#what do you Mean most people dont just lay down and ache after work?

[ghostwillows]

I often tell myself "well i can't be that sick I work a pretty physical job. I've seen able bodied people quit this job because its too physically demanding I'm Fine."

like I don't get home from work and collapse onto the couch and then lay down for several hours trying to work up the energy to microwave dinner.

[bubbledumbbinch]

Heya! Congrats on the 100+ followers!! Your writing is really good and I enjoy reading your works!

If you dont mind, what would be your headcanons on the TWST dorm leaders of what prefrences they have for a S/O? Like what would they want in an S/O? (Also Im sorry if this has already been asked Im also kinda new to your blog as well ;w;)

Hii!! And thank you 🥰🥺💕 that means a lot to me!! I hope you stay and continue to enjoy yourself here!This hasn’t been asked before so I hope you enjoy!!! ;w; I hope you all enjoy I had a fun time (and a difficult time) writing this out! I think I made it too long, again ;w;

I made this SFW uwu just some fluff!!!! But please keep in mind before you follow me, I MOSTLY POST NSFW works.

Warnings: slight story spoilers for episode 5, for Idia’s part, if u squint

Pairings: Dorm Leaders x Reader

I put things under a cut for length!!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle would probably want a partner who does well in school - at least someone who tries to! It would go against his own desires to do well in life if he has a partner who doesn’t have the drive to succeed like he does.

He isn’t particularly fond of people who have a lot of potential yet waste it on being lazy. Like I said before, it goes against his own morals.

I also see him wanting someone fun-loving! Riddle grew up in an environment where fun was essentially taboo so he would be drawn like a moth to a flame to someone who has so much energy in them. Remember one of his best childhood friends is Che’nya so he would probably not hate the idea of joking around and being silly once in a while!

Someone who would love sweets like him! Not too often so he could maintain his shape, but someone who would love to indulge him once in a while!

Riddle would love to see an S/O who makes time for him and the unbirthday parties that Heartslabyul hosts! He feels like a good dorm leader and seeing you make an effort to come makes him feel like a great boyfriend too!

“Ah, Y/N, I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to make it today.” Riddle sighed to himself in relief. He feared his rose would come to the party late. “Ah, sorry Riddle! I was late because I was studying for Professor Crewel’s exam but I lost track of time!” You breathed out, a bit exhausted from running.

The redhead only nodded and smiled at you. “Don’t worry about it, my rose. We’ve only just begun the party, so no need to fret.” Riddle’s gentlemanly ways never failed to make your heart soar. “No no, I’ll make it up to you! I’ll bake you a tart sometime, you’ll let me right?” You playfully nudged at your boyfriend’s arm and smirked.

Riddle could only blush furiously. “Th-that would not be a bad idea. I suppose I would accept the gift graciously, dear, but only if we can cook it together. I believe it would be beneficial to both of us to learn!”

Leona Kingscholar

Someone who loves to nap with him like all the time

Leona would definitely want someone who is willing to praise him a lot. Growing up he never really had that and felt like he was overshadowed by his big brother, so this guy needs validation like crazy. Tell him how strong he is, how much you love him, how warm he is… he’ll scoff and look away but you could see the faintest blush on his cheeks. He secretly loves it.

I feel like Leona would like bratty tsunderes, for some reason. He would be the perfect teasing type for them and I think I can just picture Leona and his S/O getting into play fights that lead to something more, if you catch my drift.

Someone who can be “refined” enough for show so that when he brings you home to his family, they can accept you fully. The last thing he wants is his family pestering him about how his potential mate isn’t a good fit.

As tough as he may be he def wants someone at the end of the day to stroke his head and calm him down after a long and stressful day.

“Oi, herbivore, come here and be my pillow.” Leona’s gruff voice broke the silence of his room. He was sitting up on his bed while you studied on his desk. Giggling, you made your way into his bed, crawling over to where he was. Leona pushed your torso down gently and started nuzzling his head on your chest, and you could feel the vibrations coming from his body that was like a low growl. Or was it purring?

“Of course, anything for my big strong boyfriend, the best Magift player in the school, my one and only love~” you endlessly praised him, smiling at him as if he were a rare diamond. Leona only huffed as he wrapped his muscular arms around your form, effectively preventing you from leaving.

“Tch…. Damn right….” Leona mumbled. “Why don’t you tell me more while I start drifting to sleep?” Leona smirked. Running your fingers through his hair carefully, you obliged, feeling Leona’s breathing become more calm as you continued.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul would ALSO want someone who praises him, due to his years of being bullied. Call him beautiful, smart, tell him he’s the most cunning man on campus. He EATS IT UP. This man will swear on his life for you.

He also would want someone who has the ability to work hard… what? The Mostro Lounge needs extra workers sometimes! Azul thinks that if he can own the lounge, manage contracts, AND study hard for school, his S/O should be able to match him!

I can see Azul absolutely praising/spoiling his S/O too. Since you give him so much happiness in his life he should pay it forward, no? What would you like, a new dress/suit? A new piece of jewelry?

Someone !!! Loyal!!! Azul wants someone who he can feel secure with in a relationship, so he probably wouldn’t want you to flirt with anybody else since his insecurities will SPARK UP like crazy!

Azul wants someone who loves him for who he is, unconditionally!

“Angelfish… hello, good evening. I’m sorry if I am a bit more tired than usual, I just finished with ordering more inventory for the lounge and dealing with some paperwork.” Azul sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You dropped your bags on one of the chairs of the VIP room and walked over slowly to your octomer boyfriend. Bringing your arms to his shoulders, you slowly begin to knead and massage his arms gently. Azul groaned at the contact, muscles aching.

“How is this, Azul? I know how hard you work, you deserve to take a break too, sometimes…” you spoke gently into his ear, kissing the shell of it. The contact gave him slight goosebumps. “Ah, I would love to but, I have so much more to do… I know it’s going to be a late night for me, so why don’t you head on to sleep?” You tsked, upset with his answer. “I know it’s late Azul, that’s why I’m here. You know, if you keep doing this you’ll get wrinkles, right?”

“Ahem! Well. Then, this might be a good place to stop if that’s the case…” Azul huffed, standing up quickly to retire to his room, you in tow.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim wants someone who is cheerful! They may not be a ray of sunshine like he is, but I honestly can’t picture him with someone smug/gloomy. Kalim might be dense but he isn’t THAT stupid. I think he would be able to notice if you were upset which makes him upset.

Someone who is down for anything, Kalim would love to take you on a ride on his magic carpet at random hours of the day so be prepared to drop whatever you’re doing if you want to appease your impulsive boyfriend!

A fun loving person for sure, who isn’t super self conscious about what people think. If he asks you to dance with him he would really love for you to join! He wouldn’t want you to say something like, “oh, but I’m a bad dancer…” Kalim would shake his head and ask you why you would say that! It’s all about having a fun time together, right?

A patient lover is what Kalim would want as well, someone who’s kind, too. At the end of the day when Kalim is ready to sleep after his crazy antics, he wants a partner he can be able to lay next to and feel like himself.

Someone who loves him even if he weren’t rich, Kalim would want someone for their personality and not materialistic things or beauty. Kalim sees someone for their heart ! (*´꒳`*)

You yawned heavily while rubbing your eyes. Was that a tapping noise coming from the window? “Ugh…. What time is it?” Checking your phone, you saw it was 1:30am. You also had a text from Kalim.

*tap tap tap*

You groggily walked over to the window and opened the curtains to see Kalim sitting on his magic carpet with the biggest grin upon seeing you. Opening the window, you giggled lightly. “Good evening Kalim, fancy seeing you here so late.”

“Hi, Y/N!! I woke up and felt bored so, you wanna join me on a night ride around campus?” Kalim practically beamed at you, even this late at night. His smile never failed to make your heart flutter. The boy’s positive energy also transferred to you, effectively waking you up.Stepping onto the carpet from your window was your answer. After getting situated, you kissed Kalim’s cheek and held his hand. “Of course Kalim, I would love to.”

Vil Schoenheit

Someone who can tough out his callous words and treatment. Vil might be a bit much, but the reason why he does this is because he does it with the goal of ultimately helping you. He only wants to see the best out of people, including but not limited to his little sweet potato!

Someone who is patient. He knows he checks who the most beautiful person is quite often and he doesn’t do it to annoy you, it’s just for his own personal validation issues. Lay a hand on his arm, back, or head to give him praises and let him know he’s beautiful to you no matter what.

Someone who is willing to pepper him lightly with kisses (not the face though, he has makeup on!). He definitely eats it up and loves it so much, he feels like you are treating him like a king. He’ll pay that back tenfold and give you beauty treatments, it’ll feel like you’re at the spa on a weekday!

Vil is constantly posting on Magicam, depending on whether you’re comfortable enough to be posted on there he would want to make sure you are okay with him constantly taking photos to be posted on there. Whether it be food you cooked, matching couples outfits, or even pictures of you without makeup, be ready to face comments of all sorts coming from his fans.

“Mira Mira on my phone… Currently, who is the most beautiful of all?” You heard Vil speak outside of his room. Currently you sat on the small chaise at the foot of his bed. Vil told you he needed to step out for a second, so you could get ready for bed now. After putting on your sleeping clothes, Vil finally came back in, seeming more irritated than before. His eyebrows furrowed and his body looked tense.

“Vil, are you alright?” You questioned him as you made your way to his bed, slipping under the covers. Vil only sighed and exchange a quick “Mm.” as he changed into his pajamas and came to join you. He was turned so his back was facing you and he was a bit distant. You knew he didn’t get the answer he wanted when he got those search results back. You didn’t know how to convince your boyfriend otherwise but you decided you needed to talk to him.

“Vil, darling…” you spoke gently as you nuzzled closer, your chest pressing into his back. Your arm wrapped around him to pull him closer, to which he responded with finally relaxing in your touch. “You’re one of the best things that’s happened to me, Vil, I don’t know if you realize how lucky I am to have such a loving, caring, and talented boyfriend like you. Your beauty is simply the cherry on top of the person I fell in love with. To me, you’re perfect. I love you.” You ended your tangent by placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder, dozing off.

You couldn’t see Vil but he trembled lightly as tears silently fell down his face. “Thank you… I love you too, my sweet potato.” Vil whispered into his pillow. With you, he always felt like the most beautiful person.

Idia Shroud

Personality wise, I don’t think Idia would be picky. He’s a shy person and honestly would be surprised he could get an S/O at all! So is Ortho!

Speaking of Ortho, Idia wants someone who is kind and loving to his little brother. Knowing his partner loves his brother would only make him fall for you harder!

Probably someone who would give Idia his own space until he finally felt comfortable and wanted to take it further, he would prob take a few days to even kiss you!!!

Idia wants someone to be his player 2 :) like actually, come over and game with him and he’ll probably be the happiest boy ever.

Big big bonus if you love anime, cosplay, gaming, etc. It’s one thing to be an otaku like Idia but when he has a partner to fully indulge in his interests with?? It’s a win-win situation for everyone! He wants to do a couple cosplay one day if he gets the courage to ask you.

Someone who won’t pressure him too much. If you remember how Riddle pressured Idia into trying to speak publicly, you know how much of a scary situation it put Idia in, even though he was able to do it. Stressing him out is just gonna make him unhappy :(

Someone who enjoys spending as much time inside as he does! I’m not talking a hikikomori but someone who wouldn’t be opposed to staying inside with him 99.9% of the time lol

“Y-Y/N-shi, would you like to g-go on a date with me soon?” Idia fumbled with his fingers, looking away as he asked you. You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Idia, this is the first time you asked me to ‘go on a date’. Don’t tell me, are we actually going out somewhere?!”

“Eek! D-don’t be ridiculous, Y/N!!” He almost screeched the words out. Suddenly he pulled out a couple of VR headsets with hand controllers, and handed one to you. “Fuhehe, I just made a bunch of simulation locations. We could go to the park, a restaurant, even an amusement park..!” He grinned showing off his teeth.

You giggled at Idia’s enthusiasm, loving the way he gets after speaking about his own creations. “What a wonderful idea, Idia. Maybe we could take Ortho to the ‘amusement park’ too? We’ll be a big family.” You mused. Idia’s face brightened and a faint pink tinge covered his cheeks.

“F-family, huh? Ah, Y-Y/N-shi…. That would be n-nice…” Idia blushed as he considered what the future would bring for the both of you.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus would also mostly not have preferences on a person’s personality. Like, he wouldn’t say something like: “I want someone shy vs someone bold.” Anything his child of man does is interesting to him and he’s entranced by you!

That being said, Malleus would not tolerate rudeness, disrespect to him, Lilia, or his fellow dorm mates, etc. He may love you but he values those bonds more, especially Lilia’s and his grandmother’s.

Malleus wants someone who is willing to teach him human tendencies, since he is curious about them. Malleus will also probably never stop asking you about your life in the previous world, and listen passionately as you describe the hobbies you had, family members, etc.

As long as you continue to love and treat Malleus like a normal person and with kindness, he will continue to love you endlessly. He’s so unused to it that he will feel so special as you only coo in awe instead of fear away, if he showed you a magic trick or maybe donned more of his draconic features like his tail or long claws.

You walked with Malleus under the bright moonlight in the woods near Ramshackle dorm. His height and charm never failed to impress you. And his face, he was so very handsome. His striking green eyes always made you feel hypnotized and his horns were so well taken care of, you almost wanted to reach out and-

“Hm, Child of Man… you do know it’s quite rude to stare, yes?” Malleus chuckled and suddenly broke the silence, making you gasp. “Ah, sorry Tsunotarou. I-,” searching your thoughts, you just couldn’t think of anything quickly enough. “I just couldn’t help myself. You’re very attractive.” You murmured, admitting defeat.

“Oh? Do I not intimidate you, my dear? Usually humans and even other fae fear my features and tend to shy away…” Malleus looked down in thought as he continued walking. You wrapped yourself around one of his arms as he walked, effectively stopping him in his place. “Well, you don’t intimidate me! I like being around you, so, let’s keep it that way. I want to stay with you for a long time so don’t get too tired of me okay, Malleus?”

Hearing you say his given name only made the fae’s heart beat harder in his chest. Surely you knew what you did to him. He smiled down at you, green eyes softening in your gaze.

“I assure you I won’t, little human.”

[krabmeat]

☊⏃⋏ ⟟ ⏚⟒ ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏? ⏃⋏⊬⍙⏃⊬⌇ ⋏⍜⍙ ⏁⊑⏃⏁'⌇ ⏃⌰⌰ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍙⏃⊬. ☌⍜⎅ ⍀⟒⏃⎅⟒⍀ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⍀⟒⎐⟟⎐⟒⎅ ⎍⋏⟒⌖⌿⟒☊⏁⟒⎅⌰⊬ ⏚⊬ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔? ⟟⏁'⌇ ⌰⟟☍⟒ - ⏃ ⍀⟒⏃⌰⌰⊬ ⏚⏃⎅⏃⌇⌇ ⏃⋏⏁⏃☌⍜⋏⟟⌇⏁ ☌⍜⎅ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ☌⟒⏁⌇ ⌿⎍⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ☊⏃⌰⌰⟟⋏☌ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ "⌇⏃⎐⟟⍜⎍⍀" (⏚⎍⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏃ ⋔⍜⍀⟒ ⌇⏃⏁⟟⍀⟟☊⏃⌰ ⍙⏃⊬ ⟟⋏⌇⏁⟒⏃⎅ ⍜⎎ ☌⟒⋏⎍⟟⋏⟒⌰⊬ ⌇⟒⟒⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒ ⋔⏃⌇☍⟒⎅ ⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⌇ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⊑⟒⍀⍜ ☊⏃⎍⌇⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⏃⌇⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬'⎐⟒ ⋔⍜⌇⏁ ⌰⟟☍⟒⌰⊬ ☊⏃⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⟒⎐⟒⍀⊬⍜⋏⟒ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⋔⟟☌⊑⏁⊬ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⍀ ⏁⍜ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⍜⟟⋏⏁ ⍙⊑⟒⍀⟒ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⟟⏁⌰⟒ ⎎⟒⟒⌰⌇ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏃⋏⎅ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⌇⟟⍀⏃⏚⌰⟒). ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⍀⍜⏃⋔⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌰⏃⋏⎅⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌇⋔⌿, ⏚⍀⟟⋏☌⟟⋏☌ ⏁⟒⍀⍀⍜⍀ ⏃⋏⎅ ⊑⟒⌰⌰⎎⟟⍀⟒ ⏃☊⍀⍜⌇⌇ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ⌰⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ☍⟒⌿⏁ ⟟⋏ ⍀⏃☌⟒ ⌇⏁⍀⍜⌰⌰ ⎎⍀⟒⟒. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⟒⋏⎅ ⎍⌿ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⎍⋏⎅⍀⏃, ⏁⊑⟒ ⏚⎍⍀⋏⟟⋏☌ ⎎⌰⏃☍⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏃⌇⊑⟒⌇ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⌰⍜⌇⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⏃⍀⌇⊑ ⌿⟟⌰⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⌇⋏⍜⍙. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⌇⏁⎍⋔⏚⌰⟒⎅ ⎍⌿⍜⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ☊⍜⏁⏁⏃☌⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⍙⍜ ⟟⋔⋔⍜⍀⏁⏃⌰ ☌⍜⎅⌇ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⋔⏃⊬ ⍜⍀ ⋔⏃⊬ ⋏⍜⏁ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ☍⋏⍜⍙. ⍙⍜⋏⎅⟒⍀ ⍙⊑⏃⏁'⌰⌰ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏? ⟟ ⍙⍜⎍⌰⎅ ⌰⟟☍⟒ ⏁⍜ ⌇⟒⟒ ⊬⍜⎍⍀ ⏁⏃☍⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟟⌇.

- ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: philza, techno, Wilbur,(next few only mentioned)Mexican dream, schlatt, dream

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fire, death, arson, betrayal mention, being used, reference to drugs, slight cursing

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: translation vvvvv

Can i be enderman anon? anyways now that's all out of the way. God reader getting revived unexpectedly by dream? it's like - a really badass antagonist god that gets pulled out of the underworld, calling dream their "saviour" (but in a more satirical way instead of genuinely seeing the masked man as their hero cause in the past they've most likely called everyone that helped them their mighty helper to the point where the title feels overused and undesirable). They roamed the lands of the smp, bringing terror and hellfire across the overworld, letting their kept in rage stroll free. They end up in the tundra, the burning flakes of ashes getting lost in the harsh piles of snow. They happened to have stumbled upon the cottages of two immortal gods that they may or may not have used to know. Wonder what'll happen? i would like to see your take in this.

 - enderman anon

AHHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I DONT KNOW IF YOULL EVEN READ THIS STILL BUT TY FOR THE REQUEST IT ISNT THE BEST QUALITY IM SORRY :[[[

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You almost don't recognize the sensation of grass against your calloused and rough hands. You were in the void playing solitaire with Schlatt and Mexican Dream, and the next thing you knew you were suddenly pulled harshly by the back of your collar, falling on your spine. The looming mask of Dream is what stood above you, but he looked different. Longer hair, smelly, wearing a stained lime green jumpsuit with ‘0001' sewn into it and covered in cuts, scars and bruises. But before you could even question why Dream was suddenly there, he stepped back into the void, the void slowly surrounding and consuming him the further he went backwards. His now bony hand is still tightly gripped onto the back of your shirt, so while struggling your body is also enveloped in darkness. All it took was one blink and there you were on a patch of grass, staring at the pale blue sky.

"Huh."

Was all that came out of your mouth. You were still shocked at the turn of events that just happened, but no longer grounded. A running river nearby stunned your senses. How long had you been dead? It felt like years, but when you look around at the familiar forest you died in, not much had changed except for a couple newly planted saplings here and there. The swirling ashes you remembered before you died had all settled and compressed into the soil.

The river showed a strange reflection of yourself- your features have clearly sunken into your skull and there's a streak of white hair coming from your scalp along with words in fancy gold letters on your arm reading,

"May thy woes and hurt of the past no longer eradicate the upwards of this lost souls future. Allow thine to be praised by Ender themselves and be granted another chance at mortality."

Scrubbing or picking at your arm did nothing, so onwards you went walking along the forest to what you remember being a bustling "community".

Each mound of dirt you saw only brought memories of your death, of the place and people who sought to treat you like you were disposable. And now that you’re alive, you hate that they technically ended up being right. Your death; alone in a forest. Running away from the unexpected attacker, ashamed and too prideful to die in the prying eyes of your enemies. It fills you with rage, all the lives taken by your hands and for what? You weren’t overreacting, you knew that for sure. And before you knew it, you stole some fresh flint and steel from a random chest and got to work. 

You had always wanted to touch the fires you set. The soothing feeling you got from watching wood burn to char and ashes satisfied you. And it made it all the more euphoric to know it was trees of your manipulator's land. Running across the land, with flames as far as you could see when you looked behind you. The heat swirled around your neck and went into your nose, but the feeling was muscle memory at that point. You were still riding your high when a voice reached out to you, luckily when you were finally calm.

"What- Y/n? Hold on, is that really you Y/n..?"

You spin on your heels to the familiar manipulative British voice of a person you haven't seen in a long time. 

"Wilbur?! Man, I haven't seen another person's face other than those two addicts in a while- you look different." 

His eyes much like yours are sunken deep into his skull, purple-pink bags under his eyes and dull skin. Wilburs shocked lips fade into an opened mouth smile when he walks up to you with his hands momentarily confused on what they should do. Eventually, his right hand settles on clasping your left shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“Y/n it is so good to see you! You look quite different yourself, wouldn’t you think-? Oh, look! We’re matching!”

The grey streak in your hair seems to make another appearance when Wilbur briefly smacks it with his middle and pointer finger. 

“Ay, it’s nice to see you too Wil, but back up for a second alright? I've got something to ask you by the way…”

Wilburs head peaks in interest, urging you to go on.

“I’m guessing that little streak in your hair wasn’t a fashion choice- and if it was it’s a bit strange- but how’d you get it? You died when you blew up L’manburg! I mean c'mon, people don’t just, well…REVIVE!”

He starts to walk. You aren’t quite sure where, but stumbling along with Wilbur while his arm is draped lazily atop your shoulders seems to suffice. 

“Ahh Y/n, you’d be surprised. The most WONDERFUL thing happened, actually! Years and years in my hell of a train station; do you know who was at the subway door when it finally opened, Y/n? Dream!”

“Wh- Dream?!”

Appalled, you try to stop in your tracks but fail when wilburs arm is still pushing forward. His storytelling voice dies down to curiosity and excitement.

“Wait, did he save you too? He did, didn’t he? Oh, this is wonderful!”

Wilbur emits eagerism and you suddenly realize what you could do with his desperacy to be socially accepted. Putting on the most exaggerated and animated voice, you speak. 

“Oh my god yeah! Gosh, that Dream guy is my hero! Thanks to him, I get to have another chance at living again, and isn’t that just…swell.”

In all honesty you didn’t really try hard to sound sincere but by the look of Wilbur, it seemed to work just fine. 

“Right?! I’ve been meaning to visit him in the prison if you’d like to tag along with me the day I go? I’m sure he’d love to see you, since he revived you and all.”

Oh, you were sure Dream wanted to see you. He wants a boon- a trade. Why else would he revive two of the most historically significant people on the server if not to make some sort of deal with them? Sure, Wilbur is as gullible and carefree as ever but you at least still had scraps of mental stability and level-headedness that made you all the more a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention Wilbur doesn’t know that Dream killed you, but telling him that now would blow your act. You decide to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Yeahh, sure! I’d love to go, just tell me when.”

And that’s the end of that conversation. The two of you walk to wherever Wilbur is going. It honestly surprised you how he couldn’t see through your apathy. From what you remembered, he was keen on being wise about people and their intentions but you guess years and years in hell do things to a person.

Somehow, you’re stuck in your mind for long enough that only now do you feel the sharp winter air making the hairs on your arms and legs stand straight up. 

“Wait, snow?”

The tundra was a drastic contrast to the void you were once in with schlatt and Mexican Dream. Instead of black as far as you could see, it was a blinding powdery white. 

‘Mexican Dream would’ve liked it here, probably would have tried to snort the snow like coke.’

You weren’t built for the snow, though. Hell- you didn’t even have a memory of anyone living in a tundra when you were alive! Why was Wilbur even in the tundra? You didn’t have the energy to ask, still feeling brittle and tired, back aching from laying on the dry dirt longer than expected earlier. 

“Yeah, just figured I’d show you around! Plus I already need to grab a couple things from an ender chest and this was the closest by. I’m a very busy man, after all.”

But why were there so many footprints in the snow? As far as you knew, Wilbur was the only one who lived out in the tundra- and he didn’t seem like the active type at all. There were strange shapes as well, large hooved footprints. However, all thinking comes to a halt at the same time Wilbur does.

“We’re here! You might see some familiar faces cause I live with people.”

Well, that answers the footsteps as well as the tall red-caped piglin hybrid giving leftover bones and raw meat to a polar bear.

“TECHNO! TECHNO, HEY!”

He tenses up for a second, you could tell he wanted to be left alone but that didn’t really bother Wilbur. But you recognize him. The name and the apparel- that guy is Technoblade. The same Technoblade who stood by your side while the two of you blew L’manburg up for the last time, and now the Technoblade who resides in a cottage shrouded in snow.

“Technoblade?!”

Hearing your voice being carried by the crisp winter air, he turns around immediately to see you and Wilbur a few feet away. Techno stood there dumbfounded, but he didn’t know why. He wasn’t particularly joyed or ecstatic to see you, but he was at the very least happy to see an old ally back. 

“Y/n? Oh my god, now we’ve got TWO of you? We don’t have room for another one, alright?”

For some it might be hard to see the meaning behind his words. Luckily you’ve talked to him enough to where you can tell he’s being playful.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just build directly on top of your house. Besides, who WOULDN'T want to be near me 24-7?”

“Me-“

“Oh f*ck off.”

You would’ve thought that that was Wilbur due to the similar accent, but there was something off. The slight gruffness and age, yet still succeeding in sounding mellow.

“Phil! How’s my favorite old bird doing?”

He gives you a face. Not a happy one like you expected, rather a face that says ‘really?’ Probably because of the old comment. The two of you briefly hug, Phil’s tattered wings stretching out slightly.

“I’m doing alright, are you okay? Here, would you like to come in? It’s pretty cold outside, you probably haven’t seen snow in a couple years.”

He wasn’t wrong after all. You were freezing your toes off and were itching for lemon tea. The kind Phil used to make when he, Technoblade and Dream discussed plans on destroying L’manburg. Ah, the good ol days…

“Of course! We’ve got a lot to talk about- you still have that old chess board?”

“Yes, but first you have some explaining to do about the fire over in that tree, Y/n. You just got back and you’re already burning down forests?!”

“Did someone say fire?”

Techno has an eager stride in his step once he also looks back to see the raging lights of orange and red in the nearby forest.

“Don’t worry Phil! It’s just- ahh, a controlled burn..?”

Your tone of voice is unsure when a black crow shoots down from the sky into the snow in front of you. It’s left wing is charred and has smoke dancing from the burn. Philza looks at you with a stern glare.

“Oh my f*cking god…that’s it! We’re all going inside now, you too Techno. I don’t want you and Y/n going on a rampage.”

[sailorhyunjinz]

What do you think first kiss with skz be like?

aAWH SOME FLUFF T-T OK BUT KEEP IN MIND- fluff is not my strongest pursuit hence why im not a fluff writer hahsah but HEY ITS CUTE!! and anon,,, im so sorry this took such time IM SO SO SORRY AAAAAAAAH- 

also this makes me wanna know my anons first kiss story, AAAH SPILL THEM 

warnings; none?? fluff,,, wow,, rare to say that LMAO- also gn!reader and also suggestiveee??

Bangchan

~gentleman~

will only kiss you if you are REALLY ready for it and if the two of you are dating

doesnt want to rush you into things (even if its just a kiss) because he doesnt know how comfortable you are and such

basically a sweetheart

i imagine its like a cute little date

 night where you guys are stargazing, lying on a blanket on a grassy hill with his arm as a pillow for your head

“chan, look! its a shooting star! make a wish” you giggle to which he smiles, looking at your pretty features that are lit up by the moonlight

“hmm,,, dear star, i wish that y/n would kiss me” he says, laughing directly after but soon being interupted as you attach your plushy lips against his

its probably the most romantic event in your life

him smiling into the kiss as your tongues danced around softly

when you pulled away you laughed, saying; “wishes do really come true, huh?”

poor baby is blushing, his ears red but thankfully for him its too dark for you to see

Minho

the “evil roommate that secretly has feelings for you”

“lee minho i swear im gonna rip your hair off if you touch my plants again”

minho got out of his room, looking at you standing in the living room and rearranging the plants on the windowsill 

“they are all scattered, it’s ugly” he says rudely

“dont call my children ugly” you spit back at him 

there was always a weird tension between you and minho. you were glad to have found a roommate that made a good friend eventhough he was a pain in the ass sometimes

minho liked you,,, and therefore he did everything the opposite of what he felt. if he wanted to compliment you on your outfit he would instead say that you looked “overdressed” or “too much” but you always rolled your eyes towards his snarky comments

you pecked your plants, giving them the love they needed and minho just stood frozen in the doorway, without thinking he spoke

“how come you never do that to me?”

silence

you sneered, placing down the plant you held and streched out your arms

“c’mere if you dare” you said jokingly, not expecting the boy you always thought was so devilish to run into your arms, lips touching and your eyes widening at the unexpected action

the two of you held each other, breathing shaky as wet tongues collided, the sun beaming upon your figures

“m-minho,,, it was a joke!” you laughed, slapping his arm playfully as you pulled away

“but to me it wasn’t” he remarked cockily, licking the inside of his cheek

Changbin

very much giving me like “we dont like each other but we have to work with each other”

like you two are co-workers, working in a boring office and you were assigned to put together this one report and,,, lets say Changbin wasnt your favorite in the office

there was nothing wrong with him,,, its just his vibe that was off putting but sigh,,, work is work

you started compiling information, sitting in a seperate room and drawing graphs on the whiteboard, projecting some other type of research onto the board

“do you think we will need to stay late?” he asks, ruffling his hair in frustration

you sigh and nod, this wasnt going to get done anytime soon.

dawn set on horizon and the others workers packed up their belonging one by one and left until there was only you and changbin left in the now quiet office

you sat next to him, yawning as you typed something as you felt him looking at you

you looked back with a questionable expression, confused when he uttered his words

“do you hate me, y/n?”

“i mean,,, you are a dick sometimes but i dont hate you, at least you do your work”

he shrugged his shoulders, loosening his necktie as he leaned back into the office chair

“a dick, huh? maybe i try to push you away so you wont catch the same feelings i have for you”

you snapped your head towards him. you couldnt lie, he was attractive and at this point you were desperate 

“kiss me then” you said simply causing the boy to immediately cup your cheeks, latching onto your lips as if he’d waited for this moment for forever

more tongue, wants you to feel him ;))

lets just say,,, he made it up to you

Hyunjin

i get this like,,, youthful vibe,,, like the two of you were childhood friends

and,,, eventually you catch feelings for him which you hate because,,, you dont want to ruin this friendship 

every time somebody mistook you for a couple the both of you would make retching noises, mocking each other

“you think my standards are that low?” hyunjin says pointing at you to which you raise your fist

“hwang hyunjin, you’re dead meat”

but,,, he was only in denial, it was his childhood friend afterall

probably happened at one of those night where your mom was working late and you invited hyunjin to keep you company, him bringing kkami as well. 

“dont fucking burn the pizza, hyunjin” you say, petting kkami until the little rascal ran away from your lap

“if you helped it wouldnt be burned” he replies as he comes out with two plates with the pizza burned on the edges

“but if they taste bad you can always taste my lips” he jokes and you look at him with a disgusted facial expression before laughing

“i bet they taste even worse then your mess of a pizza, i would like to see you try to even get me to peck you” you scoff and hyunjin rolls his eyes, sitting next to you on the sofa

“try it then” he taunts but is taken aback when you actually kiss him, your nose accidentally brushing against his as you purse your lips, hyunjin timidly using his tongue to test the waters

he wanted it so bad and he finally got it >:(( he could swear that he heard fireworks going off in his brain

a moment of silence appeared until hyunjin cockily uttered:

“so,,, did they taste better?”

Jisung

the “i met you at a party and made out with you drunk”

he stared at you the entire night, catching glances while you looked away and the music blared in the nightclub that was packed with people.

you ordered a drink at the bar, tapping your fingers on the oak surface where you rested your arms, suddenly somebody bumped into you

turning around you saw jisung and you sighed, thinking his behaviour was starting to get annoying

“oh its you again” you said loud for him to hear as he sat down next to you, having a annoying smirk plastered on his lips

“looks like you are having fun, let me guess,,, you’re trying to get over your ex” jisung says, leaning his elbow against the bar and you glared at him because it was true

you scoffed, avoiding his question and instead sipping on the sour drink you had in your hands, trying to forget everything

he was attractive which only pissed you off even more, as if you hadnt had enough pretentious assholes in your life

the glass slammed against the table as you put it down harshly, gazing into the boys dark brown eyes

“alright, deal. make me forget then since you think you know everything about me” you stated to which jisung raised his eyebrow

the palm of his hand was firmly placed on the bar as he leaned in to kiss you, feeling the bitter liquour hitting his tastebuds as your tongues crashed against each other

it felt,,, freeing. you swung your arms around his neck, wanting him closer to your body

by the way he was kissing you, you could tell that he was there for the same reason as you. a sloppy and heated kiss to fill your thoughts with something other than your ex

safe to say that the kiss progressed ;))))

Felix

aaah cutie boyfriend that is just too shy to even give you a kiss like 3 months into the relationship (OK DONT ATTACK ME NOW, TAKE YOUR TIME, NO RUSH YOU GUYS)

he is shy with pretty much everything, it was only recently he could hold your hand without his heart jumping out of his chest.

it was a simple date night! takeout and games at his place

you layed your head in his lap as you watched him finish up the game that you had given up on a long time ago

he shifted awkwardly in his seat, not used to being so close to such a pretty person before

“ah- fuck! i lost again,,,” he says in defeat, his head rolling backwards before a frustrated sigh escaped his lips

“you did well felix! look how far you got!” you say, pointing towards the score on the screen but not getting his attention. 

you sat up, looking at him for a moment as his eyelashes lightly draped over his closed eyes, cheeks speckled with freckles

you couldnt help yourself, he looked so angelic despite being defeated and so you leaned in, lacing your fingers with his and softly placing your lips against his

he opened his eyes in panic before being swallowed by the fluffy feeling of having your lips to himself, he giggled before stroking your cheek as he tilted his head, almost setting a rhythm to the sweet kiss

felix started laughing shyly, cheeks tinged with red as he hid his face with a pillow

“but you won my kiss!” you said through a smile causing felix to blush even more

Seungmin

its like,,, maybe,,, your third or fourth date??

this one is more chill than the previous ones that were at like some fancy restaurang because hello dandy puppy boy wants class

but this one was like a stroll down the night streets and eating ice cream in the middle of the summer

both of you were casually dressed, holding hands as butterflies bubbled in your stomach from the contact

his hand is all warm and it engulfs yours >:(

you look at all the pretty sights of the night, eventually climbing up to some like high point and looking down at all the lights that blinked

after a good 1 1/2 hours of walking your legs were starting to ache and so you both sat down on the swings of a desolate playground, swinging gently with your legs dangling

“i dont understand how you’re able to,,, even be friends with me,,, or whatever we are,,”

seungmin hummed, looking up into the night sky

“i promise y/n, i will be your,,, friend but,,,”

you looked at him as he said “but”, imagining the worst 

“i dont wanna be friends, i wanna be more than a friend to you”

his eyes twinkled as he stood up and stood infront of you, grabbing your hand

you slowly looked up at him, his figure standing in the way of the moon as the two of you shared a long gaze, his eyes as sweet as honey, dripping with pure adoration

you pulled him closer by the hand and slowly he inched to your lips, the distance between you minimizing as his face tilted to the right, a delicate and sugary kiss landing on your tastebuds from the ice cream from earlier.

your heart skipped a beat, the slightest sound of lips smacking

“i think i love you y/n” he whispered close to your lips after pulling away. 

Jeongin

like,,, uni buddies! 

both being med students meant late study night, usually in school 

there’s papers and diagrams laid out all over the tables and floors along with a bunch of energy drink cans, some scribbles on the whiteboard 

the two of you were friends and met in uni and everyone had always nagged at you for not going after him since he was everything someone ever wanted

you always said that you were friends and that you couldnt imagine being in a relationship with jeongin

but studying with him alone into the deep night felt different, many times you couldnt concentrate when he looked so cute sitting right beside you

being close friends, there was nothing weird about hugging or leaning against each other and so you leaned against his shoulder and yawned as the cozy boy was rewriting some notes. 

“one hour left y/n and then- then we can go hoooome!”

you giggled as you looked at him and he diverted his attention from his papers to you, his lips only mere inches from yours

you didnt know what the fuck you were doing and neither did jeongin, it was late and the both of you were tired from studying for finals

and so your lips drew closer until they clashed, feeling a tension that you’ve never felt with him before

he’s definitely a shy,,, kisser?? not too much tongue since he doesnt know how LMAO so its like soft >:((

didnt know what to do when he pulled away, looking around the room or covering his blushing face with his hands but when you hug him he hugs you back

maybe even coming to terms that he does have feeling for you,,, and so do you~ 

[h2bakugou]

hi love! can i request an angst to fluff with bakugo? maybe where he cheats and reader catches him. we dont go back to cheaters so maybe kiri and reader end up together and bakugo just regrets. i dont have any specifics in mind so feel free to let this play out however you want! just hurt me.

if this is too much or you dont wanna write this feel free to just ignore it! love you, have a great day!

a/n: hii hun!! ooo this is something i don’t think i’ve done before. i feel like i don’t write really good angst but this is a good prompt so i hope i write it well!! thank you for the request hun!! 

summary: you thought things were going good with bakugou until you catch him cheating on you. distraught, you find comfort in the arms of your closest friend, and something blossoms much stronger than before.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, cheating/mentions of cheating, established relationship with bakugou, bakugou’s a dick, kirishima is a real bro of the people and straight up puts his ass on blast

word count: 3.1k (so- i got carried away...god i hope this is good if not im so sorry angst is not my strong suit please-)

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

It was the day after your three-month anniversary with Bakugou. You’d spent all day together yesterday, and for the most part, everything seemed normal.

Perhaps it was because Bakugou wasn’t texting the girl he’d been secretly hanging out with behind your back all day, or maybe it was because he’d planned to meet up with said girl after you finally left him alone.

Bakugou wasn’t interested in you anymore, but frankly stringing you along for his own benefit was a lot easier. Breaking it off would leave a bad image on his part, and the last thing he wanted was a smudged reputation.

Which was why he kept quiet about this other girl, and only met with her when he was certain he wouldn’t be caught. Sneaking off when everyone went to sleep because they assumed he was asleep.

It didn’t help that they lived fairly close to each other so taking time to leave school meant they could hang out with one another at their homes and suspicious eyes would be none the wiser.

Bakugou had lied to his mother about still being with you and claimed that you’d just moved on and left, making you look like the bad guy. So Mitsuki welcomed this newer girl, and showered her in affection much like she had done with you.

Except you were still with Bakugou. And he’d just told you he loved you again. Kissing the top of your head, seemingly unphased as you yawned, ready for bed.

“Goodnight.” You spoke quietly, wishing Bakugou a good night’s rest as you headed off down to Kirishima’s dorm, where you planned to watch him play a new game he’d recently gotten.

“Hey, Kiri!” You smiled, giving him a big warm hug. Kirishima’s heart ached at the little nickname you’d given him, squeezing and wrenching inside his chest as he smelled your sweet-smelling shampoo, your arms squeezing around him as you hugged him.

“Hey (Y/n), is that a new sweater?” Kirishima asked, smiling as he admired the crimson color.

“It is! I’m glad you noticed. It kinda reminds me of your hair now that I think about it.” You giggle, reaching up to ruffle his soft hair. He’d recently washed it and it currently laid down, unlike his normal hairstyle, his large pointy spikes were nowhere in sight.

Kirishima’s little heart only began to beat faster as you entered his room, sitting beside him as he loaded up the game. Resting your head on his shoulder, you would cheer him on as he played, currently whooping ass against Sero and Kaminari who he was playing with.

“Kaminari asked why you couldn’t come watch him play.” Kirishima chuckled, glancing over at you, noticing how tired you looked.

“Well, maybe I’d go watch him play if he didn’t suck.” You joked, hearing Sero ‘ooh’ over the burn you just slapped over Kaminari.

“Damn Kaminari, they got you good.” Kirishima teased, nudging your side as you giggled, sitting up. You stretched your arms and yawned. Kirishima quickly muted his mic and paused.

“You tired, let me walk you up to your dorm.” Kirishima was ready to tell the boys he’d be back in a few but you shook your head.

“I’ll be alright, keep playing. Kick some more ass for me.” You ruffled his hair once more and patted his head before heading out of his room, waving as he waved back.

You made it back to your room and got ready for bed, nearly falling asleep without realizing you didn’t have your phone.

It’d been maybe three hours, before you rolled over, curious about what time it was when you noticed the blank space on your nightstand, where your phone would usually charge.

Sitting up tiredly, you rubbed your eyes and glanced around. You’d completely lost it, you couldn’t find it anywhere, in your dorm at least. You were unsure if you’d had it when you visited Kirishima, but your only thoughts went to Bakugou.

Maybe you’d left it in his dorm when you visited to study with him. Now that you thought about it, you’d brought your books and stuff back down before he went to bed and you returned to tell him goodnight, but he never let you back inside.

It was dark outside, and completely silent in the dorms. Everyone was clearly asleep. Or so you thought.

Creeping up to Bakugou’s dorm, you were surprised to see a little light peeking under the door. You weren’t one to snoop, but you certainly knew for Bakugou to be up at this hour, something would have to be up, maybe he was sick, or couldn’t sleep?

You pressed your ear to the door and listened for a few seconds.

Those few seconds, time stood still.

“So when are we gonna make it official?” A girl’s voice wrecked through you, your eyes watering as you listened.

“I’m working on it. I just need (Y/n) to fucking leave me alone. All they do is follow me around like a lost fucking puppy, it’s annoying.”

This was not happening. He’d just said he loved me a few hours earlier. Why was he being so mean?

“Good, because I don’t how much longer I can keep this a secret. I need to see you, Katsu.” You wanted to throw up. You felt so sick. So hurt.

So betrayed.

You were overwhelmed with emotions, sadness, despair, hurt, anger.

Raising a fist, you pounded on that door like your life was in danger. You could hear a few whispers and footsteps as Bakugou quickly opened the door, surprised to see you. You barged in, shooting one glance at the girl sitting on his bed in one of his shirts, the same one you’d worn earlier that week.

You found your phone laying under a few papers on his dresser. You turned to see Bakugou just staring at you.

“Hey-”

“Don’t” You say quietly as you speed-walk past him and back down the hall. Bakugou doesn’t follow you, or try to stop you, or call out for you.

He slinks back into his dorm and resumes his time with his new girl, taking that as his sign that he was officially single.

Clenching your phone in one shaking hand, you can’t help but feel utterly worthless. And somehow your feet seemed to move on their own, right down to Kirishima’s dorm.

When you felt the door open, and heard a sleepy Kirishima ask if everything was okay, you finally realized you’d trekked down to his dorm without even realizing.

“N-no. It’s not okay, I’m not okay.” You whisper as he pulls you into him for a hug. He stands there, consoling you quietly, not even saying anything. Just rubbing your back as you sob into his shoulder.

He’s concerned, that’s evident by the way his expression is softened, and his eyebrows knit together, wondering just what had happened to have landed you here.

But as he finally pulls you back into his room, the only light coming from a pink and orange glowing Himalayan salt lamp. You’re shaking in his arms as you sink to the floor.

It’s the first time Kirishima’s ever seen you like this. 

So hurt.

“You don’t have to say anything, but I’m worried about you. You tell me when you’re ready okay? Do you need anything right now?” Kirishima’s spoke quietly, and softly, his large, rough hands for once being so gentle and delicate.

You sat and thought for a few minutes, just shaking in his arms as you tried to calm down. You were overwhelmed, too anxious about what had happened, if you weren’t enough for Bakugou.

But you finally spoke up, breaking the silence that had fallen over the two of you.

“I-I’m...” You breathed, finally looking up at Kirishima. You could feel the snot as it leaked from your nose and how wet your cheeks, chin, and neck were, but Kirishima didn’t look at you any differently. 

With red puffy eyes you glanced down and opened your mouth to speak.

“Bakugou, he was, I think...” You paused.

I saw what I saw. I heard her. That girl. He was cheating.

“Bakugou cheated on me.” You whimpered, more tears beginning to fall from your eyes. Your face fell back into Kirishima’s shoulder as your frame shook from pure despair.

Kirishima didn’t respond. He sat, his hands rubbing up and down your spine as you cried, anger boiling inside him.

Never, not even once, had he assumed, or even pondered that Bakugou would ever be unfaithful. His priorities of being on top seemed to overweigh everything else.

So when he’d started dating you, he was albeit a bit jealous, but he supported you and Bakugou’s relationship, despite wanting to be with you himself. But soon he realized you were taken by someone else, and he would respect that.

He changed his usual somewhat flirty comments, and kept things strictly friendly, but he couldn’t help but notice you still made his heart race.

But Bakugou, cheating? That was something he didn’t see coming. But regardless if it was shocking or not, it wasn’t right.

Kirishima didn’t agree with his actions at all, and seeing just how hurt you had been by his actions, it made him feel even angrier.

“Kirishima, I-I don’t know what to do. I thought he loved me. Why didn’t he love me?” You looked at him with tears pouring from your eyes. Broken sobs cracked from your wet lips, and Kirishima’s heart shattered.

Kirishima closed his eyes and placed a hand behind your head, nuzzling your face into his chest as he leaned into you, burying his own face into your shoulder.

“He’s an idiot. It’s gonna be alright. I promise.” Kirishima hushed you quietly, rocking you back and forth in his hold as you finally began to calm down, eventually falling asleep as he came to halt.

Reaching for a blanket, Kirishima wrapped it around you and held you tightly against him. His blood boiled inside him as he began to doze off himself.

“You are so amazing, please don’t let anyone tell you differently.” Kirishima whispered against your hair, resting his own eyes.

As time drained on during everyone’s slumber, a storm was brewing within Kirishima.

Waking in the morning, you awoke in Kirishima’s arms, just where you remembered falling asleep. You nudged him awake but that usual morning smile you wore whenever you’d see him in the common area for breakfast was no where in sight.

“Good morning.” You spoke quietly. It was awkward. But Kirishima quickly ruffled your hair.

“Bed head.” Kirishima pointed out, smiling at the disarray of your locks. You quickly turned away to try and fix what he was talking about.

“Hey relax, it’s okay.” Kirishima chuckled.

“I’m sorry for waking-”

“Don’t apologize. We’re gonna get through this together okay? I’m here to help however you need me too. Do you want me to walk with you to school?” Kirishima offered, helping you stand up as you both began to wake up.

“I think that would be nice. Thank you.” You can’t help but stare at the ground, feeling like a burden. You’d roped Kirishima in with your problems and now-

“I’m really sorry that Bakugou did that. It’s unmanly as hell. If he was unhappy he should’ve talked to you about it, going behind your back was straight up fucking idiotic.” Kirishima’s words sort of spilled out, immediately catching your attention.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay. I agree with you. If he was upset or unhappy, I just wish he would’ve told me.” Your bottom lip quivers as you speak about it, the memories flashing through your mind of seeing that girl on his bed, him talking about you like you weren’t even together.

About how he despised you.

“Go get ready for class, I’ll meet you by the stairs in ten?” Kirishima was already pulling out his uniform and removing his shirt as you headed toward the door.

You nodded and left quickly, running to your room avoiding being seen. And just as he’d stated, you met up by the steps in ten minutes and headed downstairs.

And there he was, waiting, like nothing had happened. Kirishima’s hand shot to yours, holding it tightly as you walked in the opposite direction. He lead you through the back doors and outside where you took a deep breath of the crisp morning air.

“It’s gonna be difficult, but try not to think about him. Every time you find yourself drifting back to him, try and replace it with something that makes you happy, like uh braiding my hair! Or making paper airplanes with Kaminari and how you beat him every time.” Kirishima laughs, lifting your chin up with his thumb and forefinger.

“He did a really scummy thing, and it hurts, I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I’m gonna help however I can, and however you need me too.” Kirishima’s support was flooding your system. Your heart felt warm, despite feeling broken and cold hours earlier.

You didn’t thank him verbally, instead you threw your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly, smiling.

Kirishima hugged you back and smiled. He missed your smile. 

Days turned into weeks, and things had slowly gone back to normal. You smiled more often. You informed Kaminari and Sero about your split from Bakugou, and eventually told most your friends, but not in detail.

However, Kirishima stayed by your side the most. And as you healed, you realized how much Kirishima had been there for you through all of it. And how maybe you had possibly got tied into things too fast with Bakugou.

While a part of you did love Bakugou during your time together, now you were beginning to realize how you really felt for Kirishima, a flame that had begun to burn long before you and Bakugou had been together.

But it seemed as you healed, and began to move on, finding your own happiness outside of Bakugou and the way he had treated you, Bakugou began to miss you.

Missing the way you’d kiss him, or hug him before bed. Missing the way you left his shirts smelling like you. Or the way you would always write little love notes on his study sheets.

Seeing you spend more time with Kirishima, seeing you so genuinely happy, the kind of happy you seemed to be when you used to be with him, made him mad. It made him miss you.

And sooner or later, his anger bubbled over and he snapped.

“Aye what the fuck?!” Bakugou shouted, watching as you quickly cowered away from Kirishima as Bakugou approached the two of you.

“You got a problem? We can take this outside if we need to.” Kirishima spoke up, quickly earning most of the ears of your peers.

“Yeah why the fuck you up on them like that?” Bakugou stared at you. Your face contorted in anger as you stepped forward.

“I’m sorry?” You laughed, staring at the blonde who was now your ex-boyfriend.

“You better back the fuck up.” Kirishima commented. Kaminari and Sero quickly stood to aid, positioning themselves on either side of you, positive you could handle yourself against Bakugou, but albeit cautious.

“No. Why’re you all up on them, you fucking got a thing for them? Spit it out shitty-hair.”

“No. You don’t get a fucking say in this. You fucking cheater. Ruining something so fucking special. Do you have any fucking idea how badly you hurt them? You didn’t even care to apologize. You fucking asshole. You don’t get to be upset.” Kirishima snapped. A few gasps from students. Bakugou’s face dropped at Kirishima’s words.

“I-I was just bored! All we ever did was just hang out-but I-”

“You what, Katsuki?” You approached him. You stood right in front of him and shook your head.

“I loved you. I really did, I gave my all to you, I sacrificed time and effort to make you happy because I felt like I was nothing compared to you. I have never felt like I was so below someone while being with them until I was with you. Constantly compared to you, it was fucking awful. You’re a cheating piece of shit. And I’m so sorry that you miss me now because I certainly fucking don’t miss you.” You spoke, your chest heaving as you sighed, turning and pulling Kirishima outside, along with a few others who had sided with you. 

Bakugou stood silently, feeling the eyes of everyone on him, judging him as he headed up toward his dorm.

“That was awesome!” Kaminari cheered, patting your shoulder.

“I didn’t know I had that in me.” You smiled, hugging Kirishima. Kirishima stood silently beside you.

“Hey, you okay? Forget about him, it’s over, we won, did you see the look on his face?” You nudged his side. Kirishima groaned and pulled you into him, slamming his lips on yours.

Your eyes widened as he kissed you, but you didn’t fight it. You closed your eyes and melted into the kiss, eventually drawing your arms up over his shoulders, deepening the kiss as he leaned into you more.

Kirishima pulled away and quickly glanced to Kaminari and Sero who’s mouths were formed into small ‘o’s quickly looking away as Kirishima chuckled.

“Woah.” You breathed, smiling as you stared at Kirishima.

“Sorry I have been wanting to do that for a long time.” Kirishima apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. You couldn’t help but laugh.

You leaned up and kissed him again, smiling as he kissed back, your lips moving rhythmically against one another.

Shortly after, Kirishima made sure you were ready for a relationship before asking. Recovery from your previous relationship had gone well, and once you were ready, Kirishima didn’t hesitate to ask. He would’ve waited a lifetime for you.

And Kirishima showed you love, real love. He cherished you, brought you up when you were low, and allowed you to shine, just as you did for him. Supporting him through his highs and his lows, helping him when he needed, and loving him for who he was.

You felt whole, truly happy. The kind of happy you hadn’t felt for a while. And you didn’t think about Bakugou once during it. If you interacted, you were curt, and always handled the situations quickly. You didn’t need to focus on him.

And when you beat him during a test, it only proved you had grown stronger.

Bakugou had lost this battle. 

And you were winning by a long shot, with a happy, healthy, relationship with someone who loved you, someone who truly loved you.

And that flame inside you, burning for Kirishima, only grew.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[ssamie]

six. “friends die together”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide 

masterlist.           suicide freak!

kenma slowly opened his eyes. the dim rays of the sun were slowly peeking through his bedroom window as he stretched and rolled around his bed, wrapping himself up in a blanket burrito as he felt his eyes slowly fluttering close once again. 

it had been atleast a week since he's actually gotten sleep, and now he's just trying to relish in the feeling of rest before he completely disregards it again. 

all of a sudden, his phone rang. 

"what the.." he mumbled with a groan 

it was currently five in the morning, and he knew kuroo was smart enough not to call him. especially since kenma would usually just be gaming or would just straight up ignore him. 

"hello?" he muttered to the phone, not bothering to check the ID 

"good morning!" y/n's chirpy la-di-da voice resonated from the phone 

immediately, kenma groaned and rolled his eyes. he had to fight the urge of hanging up the phone then and there. 

"what do you want? and why are you calling me so early in the morning?" kenma asked 

"now, now! don't be so stingy kenma-kun!" she laughed "i just wanted to check up on ya, that's all" she said, followed by soft humming of a melody 

kenma blinked as he groggily listened to her words. "oh. okay.." 

"thanks for that, i guess.." he said 

"aww! your voice is all deep and gravelly in the morning! very hot." she chirped 

kenma sighed. he could practically sense the stupid flirty smile appearing on her face. "and you sound oh so happy. as always." kenma chirped back sarcastically

a small smile grazed his lips as she started laughing on the other line. 

"oh, kenma! you're so funny!" she chuckled "when have i ever been happy?" 

"wait what-" 

"anyways, kenma-kun.." she trailed off, her cheerful tone now dropped as an eerily serious and guarded one replaced it. 

"y-yes?" kenma gulped 

"im afraid im in a tight spot as we speak. its quite critical. please come to the location i will send you." she spoke in a monotonous tone 

"huh? wait!" kenma exclaimed. he sat up on his bed, subconsciously reaching for his nekoma jacket which was messily laid out on the foot of his bed. "what are you talking about?" he asked, his hands were shaking, as well as his voice. 

"its a crisis! only you can help!" she said 

"okay. i-i'll be there.." 

humming under her breath, y/n patiently waited for kenma to arrive. she didn't have so much faith at first, but once she heard the soft thumping of feet on the ground, she grinned. 

"w-what happened?" kenma asked through ragged breaths as he skidded to a halt infront of her "a-and what are you wearing?" kenma asked 

he took notice of her rather formal attire, laying underneath the sand colored coat she had. his brows then shot up as he calmed his ragged breathing. 

"is this because of your weird detective work thing? did you get trapped?" kenma asked worriedly. when she didn't answer, he simply panicked even more. "why did you call me?! you should've called those other detective people!" kenma exclaimed 

"i got in myself" she admitted with a small innocent smile 

"what?" kenma deadpanned, now starting to regret running atleast eight blocks just to help her 

"well, you see.. i heard there's a way to commit suicide by getting stuck in an oil drum. so i decided to give it a shot" she said with the same innocent smile. she then chuckled sheepishly as she started sinking deeper into the oil drum. 

"but now that i've wedged myself in this deep, i can't get out on my own" she said 

kenma simply stared her down, looking unamused, tired and annoyed. "i see." he says 

"i think i might die" she pouted as she sank deeper into the drum. 

kenma grunted and sat on the ground, sitting a few feet from the drum she was stuck in. he was kind of impressed on how her whole body hadn't snapped in two yet. 

"well, isn't that what you wanted?" kenma said with a huff of annoyance 

"i like suicide" she said with a scoff, sounding somewhat offended "but i don't like suffering and pain! why would i?" 

"i see" kenma said with a sigh. he sat up from the ground and narrowed his eyes, trying to look for a way to free her from the oil drum

"also, i learned this only after i stuffed myself in here, but it wasn't even a suicide method!" she laughed 

"but, it was actually a torture method from the-" 

before she could even finish her sentence, she was cut off as kenma pushed the oil drum over, sending her and the drum rolling off. he let out a huge breath of air as he cradled his aching hands. 

"ni-nice job, kenma-kun" she squeaked out as she wiggled free of the drum. "but now.. we have only an hour left before school starts" she said as she patted down her clothes and combed her fingers through her hair 

"and i heard from nekomata-san that he has some news that you boys would surely love" she said as she stretched her aching muscles 

"are we really gonna move past the fact that you wedged yourself in an oil drum!?" kenma exclaimed in aggravation 

". . ." she looked at him with a dumb smile before sending him a wink and a thumbs up. 

"yep! we sure are!" 

"i hate you so much" kenma muttered 

she smirked teasingly and loomed over his shoulder "hehehe~ well if you hate me so much, then why go through all the trouble to help me?" she cooed 

kenma scoffed and flicked her away. "because we're.." he trailed off "nevermind.." a small blush covered his cheeks faintly, but it was enough to get her attention. 

she chuckled lowly and poked his cheeks. she narrowed her eyes and tauntingly stared him down. "oya? what's this, kenma-kun? do you like me or something?~" she teased 

kenma flinched and covered his cheeks with his hands "no! no i don't!" he quickly denied "i just thought that.." he muttered quietly

"since we're friends and all.. i thought it'd be right to help you.." kenma admitted bashfully 

stunned from his words, she couldn't really do anything but stare at him blankly with widened eyes. "we're friends?" she asked 

kenma spluttered at her response, suddenly feeling anxious and embarrassed, thinking that he overstepped their 'relationship' 

"um- i mean.. i just thought that since we've been hanging out but.." kenma said nervously. he fiddled with his hands as he looked down at his feet, too embarrassed to look her in the eyes. 

"sorry, i guess i overstepped. sorry for misreading things" he apologised 

finally realising what she's done, she gasped in horror as she looked at his heartbroken expression  "oh my gosh." she muttered "im so sorry!" 

she frantically patted his back, and stroked his hair "i-i meant like- i didnt know you considered me as a friend!" she exclaimed  "i kind of thought you just see me as a suicidal leech or something!" she shrieked 

"im sorry kenma! kill me now!" she exclaimed dramatically 

kenma finally looked up to see her tearing some of her bandages off, only for her to tie it tightly around her neck. 

"im sorry!" she cried as she squeezed tightly, trying to strangle herself to death 

"wait! don't do that!" kenma said in panic. his hands pried the bandages off and hastily threw them away. 

"you don't have to kill yourself over me" kenma sighed 

she sniffled and crushed him in her arms "kenma! you are most certainly my most treasured friend!" she cried 

"i would die for you and with you!" 

"let's not go too far" kenma said with a small smile 

"shall we start with the double suicide now?" she asks, fully ignoring his interjection 

"no <3" 

"fukurodani?" she muttered, looking quite confused and clueless 

"yes. it seems a three-day practice match has been scheduled" nekomata said with a smile  "their coach suggested the idea and who was i to decline, am i right?" nekomata chuckled 

"this will be a good opportunity for the team to train and explore new ways of playing for future tournaments." nekomata then looked at y/n and sent her a close eyed smile. "and a chance for you to test your managing skills, y/n-san" he said 

she nodded in agreement. 

"well then, now that that's settled.. you’re free to go! rest up and eat well! you'll be playing nonstop starting tomorrow" nekomata said as he ushered them out of the gym 

"thanks, coach!" the team yelled 

as the team arrives by the gate, they started to disperse. fukunaga, inouka, teshiro, and shibayama ended up declining the offer of an afterschool hangout. they claimed they needed the rest for upcoming games, so they left them be. 

"bye guys! bye y/n-senpai! see you tomorrow!!" inouka yelled from across the street. the energetic first year was waving both his arms around while shibayama drags him along. fukunaga sends them a quick nod and a small wave before they completely disappear from sight. 

"hm, so what do you guys wanna do?" kai asks with a smile 

"let's eat!" lev suggested with a grin 

"sure. where should we go? i don't really have a particular craving right now" kai said as he looked at his friends expectantly 

"we should eat at the diner near that convenience store" yaku says "it's cheap and they serve great food" 

simply humming to herself, y/n takes a quick look at the boys who seemed to be lost in their own conversations. her (e/c) colored eyes then landed on kenma, who seemed to busy with his game. 

kuroo was holding on his bag, making sure the pudding-head wouldn't walk into oncoming traffic. she smiled at the boy, taking in his overwhelmingly beautiful features. 

yamamoto was beside her, ranting about his friends from karasuno and their 'goddess of a manager' 

"we’re here!" lev unnecessarily announced as he skipped into the said diner.  "what should we eat?" he asks 

"fish-" ; "meat-" 

yaku and kuroo freeze and look at each other. their eyes silently roam one another as they look at the other with judgment. 

"hah? are we really doing this again, yakkun?" kuroo scowled. the taller bedheaded male leaned down to get all up in yaku's face, while the latter simply did the same 

"dont call me that stupid nickname, bedhead!" yaku scowled as well "and fish? pssh, what are you a grandpa?" yaku said with a snicker 

"could you stop making comments proving you lack docosahexaenoic acid?" kuroo sneered in aggravation 

"you're ought to eat more fish to fix that.. maybe even your height problem!" kuroo taunted 

yaku scowled and gripped the taller boy's collar "your stupid face is begging to be hit!" 

"no! kuroo-san, don't let him hit you!" lev yelled "he's feral!" 

"oi! shut up!" taketora hissed as he covered lev's mouth with his hand 

yaku turned to face lev, evidently irked and angered by his comment. "hah?! come here, you tall lampost! -" 

"wah! yaku-san i didnt even do anything!" lev exclaimed with teary eyes as the shorter boy continued to kick him 

kai and taketora then took initiative to calm their friends down. partially because they didn't want anyone injured. but mostly because they were fighting infront of the diner, and it was starting to get embarrassing. 

"ke-n-ma~" she cooed in a sing song tone 

kenma sighed and quickly glanced at her, before averting his attention back to his game "what?" he said 

she smiled and laced their arms together. she then pointed to a bridge not so far away from where they were standing. "you see that bridge?" she asked "and the pretty river under it?" 

"oh god. i see where this is going." kenma groaned. he turned off his game and followed her finger, eyeing the bridge she was talking about. 

"wouldn't it be so nice if we just jump off-" 

"how about we don't do that?" kenma cut her off with a sigh 

"but you're my friend right?" she whined childishly "don't friends die together?!" 

"how about we don't die at all. doesn't that sound better?" kenma tried to convince her with a sheepish smile 

her smile fell as she narrowed his eyes, seemingly disgusted and offended by his statement. 

"what? no, not at all." 

[peterrparrkerr]

Royal au - read on ao3

Tagging: @lokitonypeter @just-things-things @thegreenmetblue @someonepostedart @andacheesyoneliner @bluestarker @lilcoffeecup @useless-fanfictions-for-mcu @tnpt @sarcastich

Reign au!!

*-*

Peter was nervous. He hadn't seen prince Steve in years. Not since they were both children.

He hides the shaking of his hands at his back as he walks towards the castle he once spent his summers in.

It seems smaller and more daunting all at once. Before, he hadn't known about the arranged marriage.

Now he does.

And with an attempted assassination at his back, Peter's only slightly overwhelmed at the prospect of calling this place home.

There's a welcoming party for him. Servents and maids, stable hands and kitchen staff all standing on either side of the gravel pathway that leads to the castle doors.

Peter takes a deep, shaky breath as he sees the king and queen step out. The king looks much older. Deeper wrinkles along the sides of his mouth and eyes, the skin of his cheeks not as plump as before. They sag just enough to be noticeable. And his hair is graying at the temples, thinner than Peter remembered.

"Is that what I have to look forward to, when I am king?" Peter murmured quietly, nerves getting the best of him.

"Of course not," Mj spoke at his side. "King Joseph rules with an iron fist and decite. Not to mention he has lived past two quarters of his life."

"I should hope I live that long," Peter huffed, looking from the king, to the queen. "We should have postponed until after the wedding."

The queen -Sarah- was just as Peter remembered her to be. Short, fair skinned and blond, just like Steve.

"Nonsense," Ned said, giving Peter a small nudge. "The festivities will take your mind off of all that comes with being the future king."

Peter huffs again, but begins making his way towards the royal couple. Mj and Ned are both behind him, on either shoulder.

"Where is the prince?" Ned asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," Peter said, grasping his hands more tightly. It had been so long, he wondered if Steve would even recognize him.

"Is that him?" Mj asked. Peter glances from the king and queen to the left, behind the wall of servents.

Peter blinked, a quiet exhale forced from his parted lips.

"No," Peter shook his head, eyes never leaving the man that made his way towards the welcoming party, taking his spot in the crowd.

"No, that's Tony," Peter breathed. He couldn't believe how Tony had grown.

"The king's bastard?" Ned asked, aghast. "He lives in the castle?

He was no longer the gangly kid with dark hair. No, Tony had grown into his limbs. His dark hair was styled artfully, and he even had facial hair now.

Peter almost stumbled from staring.

"Oh."

Peter pulled his attention from Tony to where Mj was looking, and his eyes widened.

Steve was walking towards them. He had grown too, in ways other than his half brother.

His shoulders were broad, hair even more blond than Peter remembered, and he had grown so tall.

Peter couldn't help the giddy smile that pulled at his lips, and he nearly broke out into a run to reach Steve.

It took everything in him not to, and the two met in the middle.

"I can't believe it," Steve spoke first, looking Peter over. "You've grown."

Peter doesn't know why that makes his cheeks burn. He shakes it off though.

"So have you, your grace," he replies. "Obviously. You didn't look like this ten years ago."

He hears Mj snicker behind him and he inwardly curses. But Steve just smiles.

"You can just call me Steve," he hums.

"I'm Peter."

A smile pulls at Steve's lips. "I remember."

*-*

It takes Peter a couple days to really settle into the new routine and scenery. Mj and Ned usually keep him company in his chambers, though they've been put to work helping out around the castle when their services aren't needed.

Peter feels a little misplaced still. He's used to running through the hallways with Steve, laughing and playing and being with each other from the time they woke up to the time they went to bed.

But Steve is the future king, and he has responsibilities. They speak during meals, and sometimes Peter catches him during the day and they talk -reminiscing about their shared summers.

But for most of the day, Peter is alone. He can't help but feel a sad sort of melancholy for the months before. It just reminds Peter that he's no longer a child.

He's the future king as well, and there's been many attempts on his life since he was young and naive.

"What are you doing out here all alone, Prince?"

Peter jumps, dropping the rocks he had been picking up from around the lake.

He turns to see Tony, the reins of a black horse in his hand as he makes his way over.

Peter blushes, noting his current state of undress. His belt, shoes and stockings are all on the grass, leaving Peter in nothing but a tunic.

His feet are covered in mud, shins wet from walking into the water.

"I, uh," Peter started, brushing his hands off on his tunic, transferring the dirt onto the fabric.

"I was just exploring," he winces. Not something a future king should be doing.

Tony smirks, and Peter's heart skips a beat. He had grown into a fine man.

"I see some things don't change," he says. Peter steps away from the lake and into the grass.

"What does that mean?" Peter asked, bending down to collect his things.

Tony gives a small shrug.

"Only that I remember you used to bring in little rocks and frogs when you were younger," he said. "You always gave the prettiest stones to Steve, and the frogs to me."

"If I remember correctly, you liked frogs," Peter countered, unsure why he felt the need to get defensive.

"I did," Tony agreed. "It is good to know you haven't changed."

"You have," Peter can't help but respond. "You've grown into your legs."

That makes Tony huff a laugh. Peter blushes deep red, cursing at himself and his mouth.

"Will I see you at the wedding?" Peter asked when Tony turned to leave.

Tony smiles and gives a small nod. "It is my half sister's wedding," he said. "Of course I'll be there."

Peter can't help but smile at that, and Tony climbs onto his horse. "I would get back to the castle soon, it'll be getting dark soon."

*-*

The wedding is wonderful, and it does exactly what Ned said it would. Peter forgets all about his troubles as he dances.

At first, he dances with Mj and Ned, but Steve sweeps him off, practically pulling Peter off his feet.

Peter can't help but smile all night. He doesn't know the sister very well, seeing as she had a similar arrangement with her own betrothed. She was visiting her future husband's home in the summer months too.

As the night draws near its close, Mj grabs Peter's hand, a wide grin on her lips as she tugs Peter from the dance floor.

Ned is close behind, the three of them running down the dark halls.

Peter doesn't know where they're going, but he can't help but be relieved at the reprieve from the festivities.

The room Mj takes them to is small and cramped. Hidden behind a curtain. Peter has half the mind to ask Mj how she found it, but before he can, Mj pulls the small painting from the wall.

What lays behind it has Peter's eyes widening. Its the groom and bride, standing in a candle lit room with four other men.

There's a bed and a bath, and its easy for Peter to deduce whats happening.

"We're not allowed to see this," Peter whispered, turning to Mj. The girl rolled her eyes and nudged him.

"Dont you want to know what to expect on your own wedding night with Steve?" She asked.

Peter's already shaky resolve crumbles, and he turns his eyes back to the room, swallowing thickly.

"They have to watch?" Ned asks, on Peter's other side. Peter doesn't take his eyes off of the two newly married as they begin to pull at their clothes, soft and gentle.

Peter feels his cock fill at the sight of the man taking the princess -soon to be queen- to bed.

"They have to watch, to consumate their marriage," Mj whispered back, her eyes also transfixed.

Peter's aching in his tunic, and he can't help the flush to his cheeks, watching as the man pushes in gently, pushing out a breathy moan from the woman.

The three of them watch until the man cums, and Peter almost cums himself at the sight.

"Go, go, go," Mj whispered, quickly hanging the painting back up.

Peter does, rushing from their hiding place and taking to the stairs. He doesn't think he can make it back to his chambers. He may burst if he doesn't find a release.

He takes a right, then a left until he's so deep in the castle that the only people who might stumble upon him are the servents, and they're all busy with the festivities.

Peter gasps desperately as he leans into the wall, lifting his tunic up and pulling at the drawstring of his pants.

He closes his eyes and bites his lips as he finally gets his hand around his throbbing cock. It feels so good, Peter's knees nearly buckle.

He's so close to cumming in his pants, so focused on getting himself there, that he doesn't realize someone's walked in on him until a hand joins his own.

Peter's eyes snap open and he removes his hand, gasping as his eyes settle on Tony.

The man is close, his breath smelling like wine, dark eyes glinting and smirk tugging at his lips.

His hand squeezes around Peter's cock and he can't help but mewl, eyes rolling up into his head and hips pressing closer.

"Tony," Peter whimpered, rolling his hips. He can't help it. He's stupid on the need to orgasm, after watching the groom and bride, thinking about himself and Steve in that same position.

Its too much for Peter to handle.

"Shh," Tony murmurs, stroking Peter as he leans forward. "I'll take care of you, Prince."

Peter kisses Tony when the man's lips land on his. Hes worried he'll crumble to the ground if the wall weren't there for him to lean on.

Tony's facial hair scratches at Peter's mouth, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

Tony moves in closer, practically supporting Peter's weight as he snakes his free arm around Peter's waist.

Peter tries to warn him, but all he manages to get out is a desperate keening noise that Tony eats up.

Peter cums hard into his pants and Tony's hand, which slicks up his movements further, drawing more pleasure.

"There you go, Prince," Tony praised against his mouth before moving to his jaw, still stroking Peter through his orgasm. "Thats it."

Peter doesn't know what came over him. He leans back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Trying to collect his thoughts.

Tony removes his hand, now covered in cum, and smirks down at Peter.

Peter can't help but whimper at him, unsure of what exactly he should be feeling.

Tony grabs Peter gently by the chin, tilting his head up ever so slightly to plant the softest of kisses to Peter's kiss bruised lips.

"Good night, Prince."

[diamondcamefromhell]

I wish I were her

geralt x fem!reader [as a gender-fluid person i swear i will try to write more gender neutral pairings in the future but writing ‘straight’ is easier for me as i spent most of my life dreaming strictly ‘straight’ when i idenfied as a girl and was in fucking narnia closet even from myself, sorry guys, gals and non-binary pals <3]

A/N: A LOT of shit is going on in my life, as is everyones, so I am not making a comeback yet babes, but i did get not sober and listen to heather just now and decided to write my first ever geralt fic, say whaaaaaaaaaaaat? i made him super soft and honeslty maybe a bit out of character but let a person dream okay either way

truly, i hope everyone is doing okay. the world sucks and i know people have personal problems to deal with. i hope youre okay. i hope this fic distracts you a little. I love you all. as much as a stranger can love a stranger which i believe is a lot, i fukcing love you.

Summary: Y/N has met both, Geralt and Jaskier before, but when they visit again things dont go as she expected

Warnings: violence, self-hate, blood, nsfw [but not explicit because hey hoe im a virgin]

Word Count: 2239

There was something about him she couldn’t quite place. She got lost in his eyes before and she would do it all over again. His touch left marks on her skin that seemed to burn whenever her mind wandered back to him. He changed her life forever and then he left. Only his songs were sung by other folk, pinging at her sides, reminder of those few nights he was hers. And she was his. Nothing else mattered then.

But he was a bard. A man with purpose, a man with goals. And she was just a farmgirl, no more special than any other person on the continent. She was sure that there was nothing this world had to offer her, and those moments of bliss were the best she will ever get.

Yet, when Jaskier and Geralt were passing by again, she jumped on her mare, going to the tavern in a heartbeat. Her anxiety was eating at her insides, making her shiver as she pushed the door open. Unpleasant smell of alcohol and sweat hit her, but when she saw him she got high on a different kind of drug.

But this one had no price.

His eyes were shining as he was smirking as his friend, who was brooding. Jaskier took a moment to look around, glazing over her as if she was nobody. Her heart banged in her ears as she took a few shaky steps towards the table. Loud noises coming from around her seemed to drown out when his eyes met hers. There was slight recognition, or she tried to tell herself that.

“Hello.” She managed. Geralt glanced at her, mumbling something under his breath, but her attention was elsewhere. Y/N eyes were drilling Jaskier, who furrowed his brows, smiling.

“Hello there.” He said cheerfully. His eyes looked somewhere behind her.

“Jaskier, right?” She asked, even though she knew. She knew exactly who he was and what his lips tasted on her and how they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

“Right. We’ve met before?” Y/N heart shattered a little, but she grabbed the broken bits, not letting them fall apart, holding it together.

“Awhile back, when you and Geralt stayed here. He was here on a contract for a wraith. You wrote a song for that one.” She rambled on, finally taking a breath in.

“Oh right!” His eyes were still glassy but he pointed at the seat. “Join us.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt grumbled, but still scooted over when she sat down. His yellow eyes seized her up. “Y/N.”

“You remember me?” The girl was taken back a little, the witcher was the one who hadn’t forgotten her. Not Jaskier. She blinked twice as Geralt didn’t respond, but rather looked at the bard.

“I remember you too, Y/N!” He argued battling Geralt’s gaze.

“How have you two been?” Underneath the table she clasped her hands together, only now realizing she’s sweating.

“Good, good. Lots of work to do around here, right Geralt?” There was nothing but silence coming from his companion. “He’s a bit shy, but you know that already.”

“Right.” Silence settled between them as Geralt downed his ale in one gulp, leaning back a little. He seemed to zone out, having a thousand-yard stare, his mind traveling elsewhere. Y/N looked away from him.

Jaskier was glancing around the tavern just as a server came up to them. Y/N seized her up, in her pretty dress and golden curls than bounced behind her back perfectly behind her back. Her smile was perfect, making Y/N fill with envy as she leaned over to Jaskier, exposing her cleavage to them all.

“Can I get you anything, sweetie?” She whispered as Y/N leaned back, swallowing hard.

She suddenly became aware of her tattered dress that had, what she hoped to be dirt, on it. Her hair was tied back but she haven’t brushed her hair today, so it most likely was a mess. She shifted, smelling pigs and sheep on herself. She became aware of all her flaws as if they were broadcasted to the world.

She wanted to burst into flames this very moment, becoming aware her cheeks are burning red. Suddenly the table became the most interesting thing in this tavern as she drowned out their conversation. She couldn’t listen. She couldn’t see. But when she lifted her eyes, the woman had sat down and Jaskier had one of his hands over her shoulder. He was laughing. The woman looked at Y/N.

“Hey, Y/N!” She, however, didn’t know the servers name, so all she could offer was a polite nod and a forced smile. “You look pretty tonight.”

“You do too, Amelie.” Jaskier said, before Y/N could respond. She dropped her gaze to the table as Amelie laughed. It sounded like bells in the wind, like a bird chirping. It was perfect. Y/N took a sharp breath in.

She zoned out again, not listening to Amelie and Jaskier again. She simply couldn’t. Geralt was looking at her, his eyebrows furrowed. He could tell Y/N was uncomfortable, he couldn’t understand why she simply didn’t leave. The girl chose to torture herself.

Amelia stood up, going back to her work, and only then did Y/N look up again, her expression different from before. Corners of her lips were turned down as she watched Jaskier look after Amelie, completely mesmerized.

“Jaskier.” Geralt called but Jaskier kept his eyes on the girl. Y/N shifted in her seat again, clasping her hands tighter.

Until she felt like she was going to burst. She stood up, muttering something under her breath. She tried not to run, but she couldn’t. She heard Amelie say something, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did. Her eyes burned as her mind kept replaying Jaskier wrapping his hands around other woman. He was not hers, and Y/N knew.

But her heart ached so much, she felt like her chest was about to rip apart. Her insides were burning and her head was spinning as she untied the horse, riding it into the moonlight. Y/N didn’t realize she just took Roach. She didn’t realize the rain had come down heavily on them. She didn’t realize she was crying.

She didn’t realize she was going right into the woods. Alone. At night.

Only when a wolf howled uncomfortably close, she stopped the horse in its tracks. It neighed uncomfortably as Y/N stared into the woods, until she heard a howl.

She ushered the horse just in time.  A pack of giant wolves jumped out as they rushed forward. Her heart was beating for a different reason. The rain was making it impossible to see as she held on for dear life. A moment later she shifted in the saddle and her leg hit a sword that was mounted on the horse.

She realized the mare wasn’t hers. With adrenaline pumping inside of her she tried to unbuckle the sword with one hand, while keeping the other one on the reigns. She struggled and the wolves were catching up. Her life was flashing before her eyes and the dread was filling in, but she knew she hadn’t lived enough yet.

She remembered Jaskiers kiss as vivid as if it was happening now, finally freeing the sword. It was heavier than she expected, throwing her off balance. Roach turned right too, unexpectedly skiting off the hill. The horse took a sharp turn, standing on its hind legs and Y/H hand slipped off the reigns. With a painful thud, she hid the ground.

Roach neighed in fear, rushing off into the woods. Y/N had to blink hard before she could see again, and when she did, her heart dropped. The wolves had her surrounded, their angry growls making hairs on her body stand up. She saw the sword dropped to her right. Out of reach. She was done. There was nothing she could do anymore.

She closed her eyes, hoping her death would be quick.

She heard a thud first. Then, something heavy dropped on her. Her eyes shot open and she saw a decapitated beast on her. Warm blood was soaking through her dress, sending shivers down her spine. Y/N only then sae Geralts back, and his sword drawn, a few more wolves laying in front of him.

The rest of the pack was slayed quickly too, as Y/N stared blankly, too scared to move. All she could smell was blood. As she could feel was fear and relief mixing inside of her. She didn’t like they made together. Her vision became blurry again. And when Geralt finally turned to face her again, she covered her mouth with one of her hands, tears streaming down her face.

Unexpected kindness shined from the witcher as he leaned down, pushing the wolf corpse off of her. His hand landed on her shoulder heavily. In response, she rushed into his arms. He just held her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

He wasn’t bothered by the rain that was drowning them both or that she reeked of blood or that he had just cleaned these clothes. He just held the girl, who almost seemed like a child, shaking in his arms, gripping onto him like he was the last straw holding her together.

“I’m sorry.” She finally managed, not pulling away. His hands around her tightened.

“Not your fault.” He rubbed her back gently as she took a few shaky breaths in.

“I didn’t mean to take Roach.” She leans away, meeting Geralts yellow eyes. He smiles.

“I followed you because you did. You’d be dead otherwise.” Y/N swallowed hard again, blinking back a new wave of tears. Geralt kept his arms around the girl, which she appreciated.

“Thank you.” Her voice broke.

Silence settled between them as Roach seemed to come back to them. It neighed, shaking its head as Geralt and Y/N stayed on the ground, in the dirt. Gazing at each other.

She saw warmth in his cat eyes. There was something welcoming and inviting in them, something that made her feel safe. Like a fireplace on a cold winter night. She felt okay. Nothing could hurt her as long as she was in his arms. She was sure of it.

“I am sorry you had to follow me here.” She breaks the silence, relaxing her body.

“I’m sorry you had to leave like that.” Geralt grows serious again. “Jaskier didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” Y/N closes her eyes now, feeling the rain roll down her back. “I just wish I was enough.”

“You are. For the right person.” Her lips shake a little as she leans forward, placing her forehead on his shoulder.

“I just want to be enough.” She whispers again, as Geralt gazes into the woods. His hands tighten around her. “Pretty enough. Nice enough. Just enough to be loved. Enough to be remembered.”

“I didn’t forget you.” Geralt reminds sending a electric wave through her body. She sniffles, opening her eyes, staring at her hands.

“You didn’t.” He now grabs her shoulders pushing her away. They lock eyes, as she is suddenly drawn to his honey.

“And I wont.” Her heart skips a beat as she thinks he might lean in for a kiss. She is ready. She wants him to do it, but instead, he stands up, dragging her up with him. “Let’s get you dried up.”

She remains silent as the witcher drops her on Roach, jumping behind her. He takes the reigns, and so does she, her hands still shaking. She leans back into his chest, feeling his breathing as he guides Roach back towards the tavern.

Y/N is sure she hears wolves howl in the distance but she closes her eyes and feels safe with Geralt sitting behind her, steady and unmovable like a wall. Unbreakable.

Once she opens her eyes, they are back. He helps her down the horse, holding onto her as they enter the tavern, but this time, he guides her up to stairs. The room they entered was a bedroom, but Geralt guided her to a bathroom where a warm bath seemed to be ready.

Y/N looked at Geralt who had taken his shirt off. He glanced at her.

“You’re going to bathe with your bloody dress?” She felt a rush go though her body. Her lips curled.

She dropped her, standing there uncovered in front of him. His lips curled as he dropped the remains of his clothes. They didn’t stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time, but just enough for their eyes light up with hunger.

They stepped in the bath, warmth surrounding them as Geralt placed his hands on the sides of the bath, towering over Y/N, who was half underwater. His eyes were eating her up as his muscles tensed up.

“You’re pretty.” He said.

“Shut up.” She flushed, going underwater to avoid his gaze.

She didn’t expect him to follow, but he did, pressing her to the bottom. His lips found hers, breathing in the air her lungs craved. He wrapped his arms around her, dragging them both from underwater. The kiss didn’t split.

And there Y/N was, surrounded my candlelight, electricity running over her body again, drowning in honey and metal. She felt whole again, she felt safe. She felt loved and important, she felt seen when he locked eyes with her.

She wasn’t Amelia, no. But Y/N was herself.

And she was enough.

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

A/N [again]:  i lost the plot at the end im sorry i had a whole ass bottle of wine and i got super saddo towards it so yikes, hope you still enjoy, requests are open ofc but it might take me two years to get to it and im not kidding okay luvs i love yall bue

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

It’s Okay

A/N: I’m writing a self-indulgent fic due to fact that I’m feeling  ✨ insecure and ugly ✨Yes this is me projecting. I like Heaven’s Design Team, and Unabara is one of my comfort characters, and he’s also v tall, and he looks like a good hugger. So why not write him being the fluffy being that he is.

Warnings: once again another breakdown, body image talk, mild nsfw mentions, mention of panic attacks

Tag List (even tho i know none of y’all dont know the show but shh): @misskittysmagicportal,  @bisexualnathanyoung, @super-unpredictable98, @joz-stankovich, @hufflepuffheroine, @ghouls-buddy, @magic-multicolored-miracle, @seancekitsch, @the-freckled-luba, @neuroticpuppy

“What’s wrong?” Neptune asks, seeing you curled up on the corner of the bed, hands covering your face. He’d just come in from another day of work with the team. They were working on an animal that’s seen and heard from far away. It’d been going okay, and they were making a lot of progress.

  You’d been denying him an answer to how you were feeling all day. Yes, he deserves to know. But something told you that you were being a burden. And that he didn’t need to hear your issues. He has a lot on his plate. And you didn’t want to stress the poor thing out. It’d only add fuel to your emotional fire. So you bottled it up. Seemed to be working just fine. Nothing a little forgetting can fix. You were really struggling. You can’t tell anyone how you feel, or else they may think it’s their job to help you. And it’s not. It never is. But they do it somehow. You’d always felt like a burden, maybe it was due to how everything in the past had worked out for you (horribly). Or maybe it was just due to your extreme anxiety issues, as well as being atrocious at keeping friends. They always left. And never came back. And somehow, that mean-spirited little voice always said it’s your fault. You’re the catalyst. You’re why everything falls apart around you. You’re the reason everyone’s stressed and upset. So that’s your philosophy. How’s that been working out, huh?

“I’m tired. And I’m upset for no reason. I’m also not feeling the most confident. But I can’t really remember a time where I did feel good about my appearance. I just straight up think I’m ugly. ” you mutter, tears forming in your eyes. 

  You’d been waiting for your body to finally cave in and let you cry. Weeks of missed panic attacks. Days without breaking down. First it seemed fine. Then the fatigue set in. So did the muscle aches. And feeling like sitting in the corner for the entire day. Thinking of what you could be doing. And shaming yourself for not being able to make a full meal. It was just so much all of the time. Everyone has their limits, but those also change. People grow. Somehow, though, it seemed that you were left out. And that everyone seemed to be doing just fine. Except for you, of course.

“Well, it’s fine to be upset, or tired. And I’ve mentioned that if you need help sleeping, I’m glad to help you. Be it cuddling or simply letting you be. But the latter part is where I find the issue. Your appearance is fine. But I know people can see each other differently.” he whispers, sitting down near you, but it seems as if he wasn’t close enough.

“Well, I honestly don’t know how you manage to call me cute sometimes. I really don’t see it. Never have.” you state, falling back completely onto the bed, arms spread out.

“I only say it because it’s the truth. If I think you look cute, or nice, I’ll tell you. There’s no use in me lying. What is this stemming from?” he asks, putting his hand on yours.

“I saw some of my old classmates from school and just....how? How do I equal to them? I feel like everyone’s moving on, and looking good. And feeling confident. But I just can’t seem to.” you say. Your eyes floating to a specific spot on the ceiling that looked like a snowman, and you thought about it for a while.

“Everyone’s different. And I think you look perfectly fine. And some people may just be feeling better. It doesn’t make you any worse.” he replies softly, twisting to face your flat form on the bed.

“Yeah, but I fucking hate everything about myself. Every time I seem to have something good, that dumbass voice comes back and I’m right back here again. I love my hair, then it’s a burden and I want to get rid of it. I look nice in these jeans, then I think I should lose the weight so they aren’t as tight. What the fuck is wrong with me?” you ask, tears finally falling onto the comforter.

“Aw, come here.” he says, laying down so he can look you at you closer. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Sure, you have anxiety, and yes, you have intrusive thoughts, but that’s okay. It doesn’t make you any less of a person. And it doesn’t make you any less attractive.” Unabara whispers, holding you close.

  You begin sobbing into his chest, and your hands grasp at his sweater, trying to find something to hold onto before you fall from whatever was keeping you above the water. Dark, deep waters. Every part of you wants to scream, but you can’t seem to get that giant bubble from your chest. Neptune’s hand gently moves up and down your back, and you gasp for air as wave after wave of feeling go through you. It’s like you never get a break as tears fall repeatedly down your face, drowning you in a weird way. Your chest heaves as you wrap around Neptune, face hidden in his neck to get away from the reality of him seeing you like this. Vulnerable, and some would consider it torn to the ground. Somehow by your own feelings, you’d been torn to the ground and for what? Feelings were supposed to tell you what’s going on, not ponder if every person you’d met in your entire life was offended by you, and if they were it was always your fault. Never anyone else’s, always yours. That’s not true, but somehow you’d managed to get it engrained in your skull do much that no lobotomy would help.

  They never seemed to leave you be, it seemed. One moment everything’s fine and it’s all good and the next you’re on the floor again, wondering whether or not you should’ve said this, or that. Or said these things, or even simply existed in their presence. You had done nothing wrong, yet only the most harsh and cruel punishments were reserved for you with your name in bold, bright letters. Nothing could help you at this point. Not the warmest, and most inviting of baths, or the coldest bowl of ice water to dip your head in, disrupting you from the shaking you’d been experiencing. Even his strong arms couldn’t help as you trembled in his grip. You hadn’t even noticed that his eyes were closed, almost as if he was trying to forego tears. See look what you’re doing to him. You thought, but it was shut down as he opened his eyes, and looked directly at you. Throwing you off for a moment before you went back to dreading everything about yourself once more. Except the hiccups were subsiding, and the feeling in your fingers and toes had begun to come back. Unabara’s head was tilted onto yours, and you matched your breathing to his, calming down somewhat.

“Can you do something really quickly for me...please?” he whispered, deep voice echoing in your mind. You gently nodded, and he moved to get up as you still sat on the bed, the ends of your jacket crumpled and partially wet.

“You don’t have to do this, but I’m going to go from your feet to your head. List what you don’t like about the body part.” he said, and you nodded once more as he gently nudged your foot, looking at you to engage.

 You thought for a moment and replied in a quiet voice, rough from the tears.

“I don’t like how big my feet are. Sure, it may be fine with dancing, and it’s not that noticeable. But shoes my size are upwards of 70 dollars.” you reply, fiddling with your hands.

“Mm, I think they’re fine. I like the fact that we can share shoes sometimes. It’s more space for other things. Legs?”

“They’re oddly shaped. And they’re discolored too.” you stutter out, feeling goosebumps tickle your skin as his hands gently moved up your form.

“I think they’re quite lovely. And you’ve got quite a kick. Strong too. You can fit in more odd positions, may look uncomfortable. But you always manage somehow.” he says, kissing the top of your knee.

  It went on like that for a while, with you talking about how you hated the fact that your thighs don’t match in color to how the divots in your hip made you feel like you should look different elsewhere. When one part of the body was talked over, you both removed a piece of clothing, the same for each person. Somehow you’d even managed to mention that you didn’t like the fact that your stretch marks could be seen with a simple flick of a waistband. And only he got to see the secret ones. Hidden from many views. Eventually, it got to the point where you were mostly nude in front of Neptune. His eyes averted from where some would be looking most. When his eyes did, however, drifted southwards, it wasn’t one of sexual thought.

“What about here?” he gently asked, hands landing on your hips.

“I don’t think I can complain about her. So much to learn. And so many feelings, good and bad. But none to blame.” you mutter, gasping as a skilled finger made its way to where you seemed to want it most.

“I think it’s wonderful. And not in the “I think vaginas are nice because I only think of it in a sexual manner way. I think they’re neat. And there’s a lot to learn, and much more to unlearn as well. I always like how you feel on the precipice of orgasm. Almost like a vice, but not one that I’d be upset about. You’re usually the most vocal, pillow over your face, or face pressed into my shoulder. Then, you’re there. And I’m there, or close enough. You just look so peaceful and emotional in the most wonderful of ways. You’re not worried about how you look. Or how your hair looks spread across the sheets unevenly. You just feel everything at once. And I find that so amazing.” he whispers into your ear, and it took everything in you not to take him right then and there.

  Unabara didn’t give you a quickie that night. Or the ol’ suck and fuck. He took his time, even after you cried on his shoulder. And admitted your flaws to him. He made sure you were fine every step of the way. Holding your hand. Breathing into your neck as to not overstimulate his own ears. He even took the time to kiss over every last mark and scar from childhood on your legs before eating you out. I mean, yeah, you were ready to shove his entire face in your vagina. But the sheer amount of effort he went through to make sure that you were comfortable, and happy (in that moment at least). It honestly could push you to tears. How could someone care so much about another? They’d go through hours of love and appreciation, just to see you smile, or almost wake up the neighbors. 

  Tears fell down your face once more that night as you cuddled into Neptune’s chest. You listened to his heartbeat as his hands lay once more on your back. He looked at you with so much love and support. And you couldn’t help but crack under that pressure. Pressure to reciprocate. You always did. Somehow. Even in those moments where you pondered researching panic methods just to feel some relief. But you made it. And he found you worthy. Then slowly, slowly, you found yourself worthy as well.

Masterlist

[wayward-nephilim]

Before it all started // Rafe Cameron

Prompt: You finally break up with Rafe after you catch him doing coke again and you can’t stop thinking about how you guys were before.

Warnings: Drug abuse, angst

A/N: I hate Rafe and he’s kind of awful, but you also can’t deny that he’s just a boy with daddy issues and I believe that he would have been a halfway decent person if he didn’t have a shitty father and drug addiction. This is my take on what I believe he was like “before” (Ps re-reading and editing this i realized i made him like not a villain at all. Maybe i’m confusing Drew with Rafe)

“DONT YOU DARE LEAVE!!” He yelled at you, getting up from his spot on the couch. The lines of coke spread out on his table. Reflecting perfectly on the mirrored tray he had. You felt sick to your stomach and it felt like everything keeping you alive had been ripped out of you. This wasn’t the first time you caught him snorting, the first time was the worst and you voweled to help him but you had failed.

You fought back the tears in your eyes. “Rafe. I can’t do this, I can’t watch you fall down the same hole my mom did.” You loved your mom, and you loved Rafe almost as much. But you sat back and watched your mom kill herself and were watching the love of your life do that same thing.

The blue in his eyes were hardly able to be seen, his pupils so dilated from the coke. You knew how he got, you watched him start it. And at first he actually had you convinced he had it under control, he could do a line and that would hold him off for a couple days, it was a social thing. And then slowly you saw him doing more and more. You saw him stumble down into a dark and twisty hole as he battled with his mind.

“Baby, please. I can get it under control. I can fix this, I can fix us.” He sniffled, eyes glossy.

Your lip quivered as you watched the boy in front of you plead. “Rafe.” Your voice broke, “I love you, but I can’t do this. You promised me you would get a hold on it and then you didn’t. I offered you my support and I broke my back to get you help. I did everything I could to help you and I’m tired.” You sighed, disappointed in him and yourself.

“Listen, Y/N. Give me a couple of months.” He said, now crying, “I promise I can get better.” He seemed so small, gabbing the edge of his shirt and pulling it down as a nervous tick.

Your heart broke as you watched the boy you were in love with completely crumble. You wanted to believe him, you supported him and loved him when everyone else was against him and the both of you knew that you held him down and kept him grounded. “Rafe.” You sighed, disappointedly. “I can’t keep doing this with you. Why didn’t you take my help when I offered it?” You pinned the blame on yourself, thinking you could have pushed him harder.

“Look- It’s not that simple.” He looked down, refusing to make eye contact with you. “I have it under control.”

You groaned and threw your head back, “NO, YOU DON’T.” You yelled at him flinging your arms in your direction. “You don’t, Rafe. And you know it. I can’t help you this time.” This situation felt too familiar, and you needed to get out of there. Your chest rising and falling even harder and tear spilling from your eyes.

“Please.” He pleaded, noticing your change in demeanor. He straightened up and walked over to you. Trying to comfort you. “Y/N. Baby, it’s okay.” He hugged you. “I promise.”

You pulled your body away from his and looked him in the eyes. “It’s not, Rafe.” You sniffled, “You know it’s not. And I can’t ask you to get sober for me. Clearly it doesn’t work. I need you to get sober for yourself.” You sobbed, “I need you to want to be okay for you, I want to be able to live a long life with you and have kids and get married. But I’m not going to sit here and watch you refuse my help.”

“I will. I promise Baby.” He tried reaching for you and you pulled your body away because you knew that if you hugged him back you’d fall back into him. “I can get sober. I’ll do it.” You wished with everything in you that he would.

“I need to go, Rafe.” You said, turing around and letting your tears stream from your eyes. He wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t mean to you and he hardly ever got a temper and not once in the year you guys have been dating has he ever put a hand on you. He just needed intervention and therapy, a lot of it.

Every step away from him felt like another string of your heart was being pulled. You ignored his begging and continued to walk, breaking down every step of the way. Your body was sweaty and you were hyperventilating. Rafe was always the one to calm your panic attacks and now he wasn’t hear and this one had to be fought on its own. You texted Sarah,

‘please keep an eye on your brother for me. we broke up and i need to know he doesn’t do anything irrational.’ You would always care for Rafe, nothing could change that.

You turned your phone off and walked towards your home that was only a couple doors down from the Cameron’s. You glanced up at the sky, clouds rolling in. Storm season was bad this year. Rain drops started falling slowly and you were kind of grateful, hoping they would wash out your tears so your father didn’t ask questions on your way in.

You sloshed around the foyer of your house and hang your soaking jacket on the coat rack, slipped your shoes off and walked up to your room. Not bothering you turn your light on, you stripped out of all of your clothes you flopped into bed. You lay staring at your ceiling. The ache in your heart over powering everything.

“Rafe, put me down.” You giggled, he had grabbed you by one arm and a thigh and was swinging you off of the boat. You squirmed in his hands until he placed you down on the deck of your tiny sail boat.

“What’s wrong, baby?.” He smiled at you, his blue eyes filled with life and his blonde hair wasn’t slicked back as you would normally see it. It was messy and all over the place. You loved seeing him like this, he was himself and he was happy and it was just the two of you.

“You know I’m ticklish.” You pouted your lip out, looking up to him.

“Oh, that’s just an excuse.” He said, running towards you and playfully tackling you down to tickle your side.

You kicked and laughed until your belly hurt. “Rafe-“ You laughed, “Stop it.” You managed to get out from his hold and run away laughing. He caught up with you and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he placed a kiss on your lips. You moaned as he laid you down and deepened the kiss. You pulled your head away and put your forehead onto his, staring into his bright blue eyes. And felt completely lost in them.

“Rafe.” You spoke softly, putting your hand on his face, “I love you.” It was the first time you said it, but you knew in that moment how you felt about him.

His mouth fell open in shock before he closed it and smiled, “I love you too.” He said against your lips and you opened yourself up to him.

Your tears fell even harder. The beginning of your relationship with Rafe was perfect, he was every thing you could have dreamed of and treated you good. He never pushed you to do anything you weren’t comfortable and was patient. It made you miss him even more.

“Y/N.” Rafe tried to offer you a smile, but you saw through it. His shirt was unbuttoned and both his face and ribs had bruises on them.

“Rafe. What happened?” You spoke, dropping your bag and keys and rushed over to him. You fell down to where he was in the ground and cupped his face in your hands. “Baby, what happened?” You cooed, glancing around the room, you saw a shiny tray on on it was little white lines and a rolled of $50 bill. You held him close to your body.

He cried into your shoulder and held you right. “I fucked up.” He sobbed,

“Rafe. What happened to you?” You voice cracked,

“He hit me.” He didn’t need to tell me who, I knew. It was his father. Ward had a tempor, everyone knew that. Especially you.

“I won’t let him do anything else to you. I’ll protect you.”

You lay stuff on your bed, digging your palms into your eyes to stop the flashbacks of you two together. You didn’t want to see all of the intimant moments. There were too many good ones. Rafe was good to you. He cared about you and pushed you in a positive way to do better than him. You knew he loved you and he knew you loved him.

Turning over, you put your head into your pillow and screamed until your lungs couldn’t take it anymore. Sobbing, wanting to be held by someone.

One hand was on your waist, the other clasped around your hand. He spun you so your back was against his. “I love it when you dress up.” He whispered in your ear.

It was Mid-Summer and you couldn’t deny that you hated it but also couldn’t deny that you enjoyed dressing up in a beautiful light dress and wearing a flower crown. You smiled up to him and gave him a kiss on the lips.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He spoke in your ears. You didn’t take much time unwinding yourself from him and pulling him into an empty locker room. Locking the door behind you.

You eagerly kissed him and pressed him against the lockers. He moaned and put his hands in your hips, pulling you into him. You smiled and pulled away, “I love you.” You kissed him, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” You said kissing him between each statement. And you did, you loved the Cameron boy with every fiber of your being.

“I love you more.” He laughed, pulling your dress up and then lifted you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist.

“Not possible.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he undid the belt and button on his dress pants.

“It totally is.” He kissed you.

By now you were convinced that you would never find another love like his. He was a sour puss to most people, but he was real and true and wasn’t afraid to be himself around you, even if you were out in public. He wasn’t afraid to show his affection despite his reputation.

You wanted to call him and tell him you love him. But the rational part of you told you to not do it. You know it’s not your job to keep him clean, but you wanted to protect him from everything. You knew him better than anyone in his life. You know what he’s thinking right now and it’s not too different from your own thoughts.

This time, it was you two laid out on the deck of your boat. Staring up at the stars. Rafe was clueless when it came to the sky. The only thing he knew was where to find the big dipper. “That one right there, that’s Orien. He’s my favorite.” You smiled over to him, pointing above you. “Mainly because he’s the easiest one to find.”

“How exactly do you know so much?” He questioned you, looking over to you.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just into stars and stuff. It’s crazy what’s out there. Ya know?” You shrugged, feeling slightly insecure for geeking out. “I find it interesting.”

Rafe noticed your change in demeanor. “I don’t think you’re weird for it.” He said, “I dig it.”

The both of you stared so intensely at each other. Comfortable with where you were in life. You turned to face him and placed your arm around his torso, snuggling into him. Being alone and comfortable in his presence was the one thing that always made you feel better. He made you better.

Right now, you wanted nothing more but for things to go back to the way they were before it all started.

[joaquinfeed]

Love Letters (Arthur x Reader)

Prompt: You find Arthur’s journal and start exchanging notes with him. Fluff ensues. Word Count: 2,929 

— You push open the door of your Gotham city apartment building, before trudging over to the mailboxes.

“Bills, bills, bills,” you sigh, shoving the unopened letters into your bag. You turn to make your way to the elevator, but something catches your eye. A worn notebook lays on the floor at your feet, words scrawled across every inch of it. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you can’t help but reach down and grab it.

You let your fingers run over the pages, as your eyes land on what looks to be the last thing written. You almost set the journal back down, not wanting to intrude on the stranger’s personal thoughts. But something about the messy handwriting draws you in.

I just want peeple to see me. I think I would be happyer if I had someone who cared.

Your heart felt heavy for the stranger; there was no way you could pretend that you never saw this. Your hand immediately shuffled around inside your bag, pulling out a pen and getting to work on your note back.

I’m sorry you feel that way. Everyone deserves to be seen. I’m sure you have someone who cares about you, and if not, I’ll be that person.

You read over your words, nodding in approval. You drop the notebook next to the mailboxes, hoping that the man or woman who left it behind will come back for it. As you made your way to the elevator, you couldn’t help the light feeling that washed over you. For once, you felt like you actually did something worthwhile in Gotham.

—

The next day, you were practically buzzing with excitement as you rushed home from work. All you could think about was the journal you found. Had the person read your note? Did they write something back? Did they even notice that the journal was gone? So many questions were swirling through your head, but you didn’t have to dwell on them much longer.

Sitting in almost the exact same place as you left it in, the journal was open to a new page, and another messy note was scrawled across the lines.

I only have my mother. You must not have many peeple to. Why else would you be writing back to a man in a jurnal journal.

Despite yourself, you laughed at the bluntness of the stranger, who you now know is male. A few other residents of the building gave you a look as you chuckled to yourself. With your pen already in hand, you moved to draw a small smiley face on the paper.

:) It’s funny of you to say that. Very bold. It’s nice that you still have your mom. Do you see her often? P.S. My name is Y/N, what’s yours? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.

Oddly enough, you were looking forward to getting up the next morning to see if your mystery guy would write back. At first, you were sure he would, but the more you thought about it, the more you started second-guessing.

Was asking about his mother too forward? What about asking for his name? After all, this man didn’t know you whatsoever. He has no obligation to tell you anything about his life; however, he did say he was lonely in some regard. You’re just trying to be friendly, you told yourself. If he didn’t want to answer, he didn’t have to. You wouldn’t be disappointed.

—

You were right to tell yourself that you wouldn’t be disappointed. When you took a detour over the mailboxes that morning, you instantly saw a new reply sitting beneath yours from the previous day.

You think I’m funny? I do stand up comedy sometimes. I actully live with my mother here. I take good care of her. Ps I like your name. My name is Arthur. Arthur Fleck.

Your fingers traced over the man’s name.

“Arthur,” you said out loud to yourself. You liked the way his name sounded, and as strange as it seemed, you felt like his name matched his cute, scribbly handwriting.

I like your name too. Also, you’re a comedian? Now you have to tell me a joke!

You looked over the words, wondering if you should write anything else. He didn’t ask you any questions, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t tell him anything.

I think it’s great that you take care of your mom, not many people would do that.

You considered adding “you seem like a really nice guy” to the end of your note but decided against it. You’ve already been inquisitive; it’s probably best to hold back a little.

A reply was waiting for you the next morning when you checked back in. While reading it, you couldn’t help but laugh at Arthur’s response.

Why dont canibals cannibals eat clowns? Becus they taste funny.

There was a line of space between the joke he scribbled down and the rest of his note. You glanced down, hanging on to every word that was written on the page. You wondered if he felt the same way while reading what you left him.

Most peeple find it strange that I live with my mother. You said it was great. Thank you for being nice to me Y/N.

Your heart picked up at the use of your name. At the risk of sounding cliché, you can’t remember a time when the mere doodle of your name has caused such a surge of warmth to fill your body.

You felt kind of absurd for feeling like this. You haven’t even met the man. He could be any person in the building, and yet, you still felt drawn to Arthur like he was someone you’ve known forever.

You hastily wrote back to him, deciding to take a bit of a chance with your next move.

No need to thank me, Arthur. I truly think it’s admirable. Oh, and that was a hilarious joke. I’d love to hear it in person sometime.

You knew that was a bold thing to say to him. It has only been four days since you found the man’s notebook, and you’ve already given him a reason to meet with you. You’re absolutely positive you have a high chance of being the next star of a late-night murder mystery documentary. Still, at this point, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Pushing the thoughts of Arthur out of your mind, you left for work, hoping to go one day without thinking of your new pen-pal.

—

When you arrived home from work, you were nearly falling over in exhaustion. You just wanted to get back to your apartment and crash in front of the TV. As always, though, you stopped by to read any new messages that Arthur had left. You were surprised to see a rather long entry this time compared to his usual two or three sentences.

I dont understand why you want to talk to me Y/N. You know you are not forced to anser me. I know that you probly dont actully want to meet with me. Thats ok. I enjoy getting your mesages and I want to keep talking. I feel like I have somebody with you around. But I understand if you want to stop. You dont have to lie to me and tell me you want to meet. I will be fine.

For the first time, Arthur’s note didn’t make you smile. Instead, you read through it with a dull ache in your chest. You wished there was some way to prove to him how much you looked forward to this encounter every day. Honestly, it was the only thing you looked forward to these days. 

Arthur,

You doodled a little heart next to his name before scratching it out, too nervous about leaving it there.

I have never lied to you, and I never will. I would like to meet sometime, but only when you’re comfortable with that. Until then, we can talk here. I enjoy getting your messages too; they actually make me really happy. I feel like I have a friend in you. P.S. What’s your favorite color?

The notes between you both went on for another two weeks. Even though your communication was often brief and to the point, you still found yourself craving the disordered, misspelled words from Arthur. Nearly three weeks of knowing him, and you were convinced he was the kindest, funniest, and most selfless man in Gotham. With every new letter in the journal, you felt your control slip away, leaving behind a feeling that you haven’t experienced quite like this.

You liked him. It has only been three weeks, and you liked him.

You tried to reason to yourself that it wasn’t totally crazy to have a crush on Arthur. It’s normal to develop a crush on someone in such a short period; that’s how crushes work. You knew, however, that it wasn’t normal to crush on someone you’ve never even really met. Arthur was nothing but some words on a page right now, but you still couldn’t shake the thought that you knew him.

With each day that passed, you learned something new about him. From his favorite foods to his job at HaHa’s, you found yourself holding on to each fact as if your life depended on it. You briefly wondered if you should take a stop by HaHa’s on your way home from work, but ultimately decided against it. You wanted Arthur to be ready to meet you; you didn’t want to force him to.

After a particularly hard day at work, you sat by the mailboxes, writing furiously about your day.

I hate my job. I hate this apartment. I hate Gotham. The only thing I look forward to is writing with you, but I don’t even know you. Isn’t that pathetic?

You carried on for a whole page and a half about the shitty day you’ve had. You considered tearing it out so Arthur wouldn’t feel required to comfort you, but something kept you from doing so. Arthur has been somewhat open with you; it’s about time you do the same for him.

The next day, you halted to a stop by the mailboxes, seeing the journal laying in its usual location. But next to it, a single blue flower. You slowly made your way over, trying not to get your hopes up.

Y/N Im sorry you are feeling like this. Things in Gotham can be awful sometimes. I have felt like that my hole life. Im starting to feel diferently now that I have you. I hope you feel the same way. I got you this blue flower to cheer you up. Blue means comfort.

You felt your ears burn red, as you picked up Arthur’s gift. You knew how much courage it must have took him to leave something like that for you. The man has told you enough about him for you to picture his bouncing leg and racing heart as he sat the flower down next to his new entry.

This means more than you know, Arthur.

This time, you did leave a little doodle heart next to his name. You knew he would only find it endearing now.

I am incredibly lucky to have found you. You make living in Gotham worthwhile.

You took the flower up to your apartment, knowing that you were going to do whatever you could to keep it alive and well.

If you weren’t sure before, you were now. You really, really liked Arthur. And you kind of, sort of, hoped he liked you too.

—

The next night, you were off early from work. So, after grabbing something quick to eat, you walked back to your apartment in hopes of seeing a new message from Arthur.

When you got inside, you stopped in your tracks. A man with curly, brown locks towered over the journal. Your heart started thumping loudly in your chest as you took in, who you presumed to be, your month-long writing buddy.

“Arthur,” you said quietly, trying not to startle him. He still jumped slightly, almost toppling over from lack of balance. He gave you a confused look, seemingly trying to figure out if he knew you. “It’s Y/N.”

Suddenly, his eyes went wide, and he hurriedly concealed the journal behind his back.

“B-but, I only talk to you in my notebook. W-why are you here? You’ve never been here before,” he said, moving his hands from his chest to his waistline, a gesture you guessed was made to ground himself.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just, I got off work early. I didn’t know you would be here, I swear,” you told him. “If you want me to leave, I understand. I’ll just look at what you wrote later.”

“No.”

“No?”

He finally looked at you—all of you. His eyes roamed from your shoes, all the way to your face before his gaze rested on yours.

“You- you can’t read it. You can’t,” he mumbled.

“But… I’ve been reading everything in there,” you paused before quickly continuing. “Everything you’ve written to me. I haven’t read anything before that! I would never.”

He nods, staying silent.

“Were you going to stop talking to me?” you asked, a little hurt at the insinuation.

“No! I- I could never.”

“Then, why can’t I read what you wrote?”

He looks down at the floor, picking at a part of his sweatpants. “It’s embarrassing.”

“You know I’d never judge you, Arthur, but you don’t have to show me if you don’t want. I can leave, and we can continue writing like this never happened.”

“Okay,” he agrees, and you’re glad to see him meet your eyes once again. He drops the notebook onto the floor, and gives you a wave before taking off towards the elevator. You wait until he’s inside before reaching down and grabbing the book.

His writing, as usual, brings a small smile to your face. It makes your heart flutter that you have a face to put with the name and the messy scribbles.

I checked every word twice in order to get this right. I wanted to make sure I spelled and said everything perfictly perfectly.  I know we have known each other for a little bit but youre always on my mind. Just like you said… you make living in Gotham worthwhile. I have a queston question for you. I hope you still want to write after this. Will you go on a date with me to Pogos? It’s a comedy club. It’s okay to say no.

You bit your lip, nearly drawing blood. The smile threatening to take over your face grew the more times you read over the note. You couldn’t believe the man you just talked to wanted to go out with you. And poor Arthur, who was too embarrassed to tell you that, looked like he wanted to shrivel up.

You scrawled down a giant “yes” under Arthur’s last writing before aimlessly drawing a few hearts around the word. After running upstairs to grab a few things, you came back down to the mailboxes and threw a blanket down on the floor. You were confident that people were going to think you’re crazy, but you weren’t concerned about their opinions. You parked yourself on the blanket and decided to camp out until the next morning when Arthur would, no doubt, be returning.

When the sun did arise, so did your writing partner. You heard the elevator doors screech open, and before you could look, Arthur was standing in front of you gawking.

“Did- did you get evicted?”

You laughed slightly and shook your head. “I was waiting for you.”

“You were waiting for me,” he repeated, looking puzzled and a little nervous.

“Yes. I wanted to be here when you read my response,” you told him. Your heart raced as he carefully took the journal from your hands and looked at it. His brows furrowed, and he looked back at you in astonishment.

“Are you sure? I think you made a mistake,” he dropped the journal and put his hands firmly back onto his chest. “This is not real.”

Your heart sank a little as you took in the distressed man in front of you. “This is real, Arthur. I didn’t make a mistake. I like you.”

“No- no,” his hands went to his head, so you reached out cautiously and took them into yours.

“I like you,” you repeated. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

That seemed to break him out of his episode, and he looked down at your intertwined hands before he broke out into a smile.

“Really? Okay. I’ll write to you and tell you what time to meet me.”

You giggled, debating whether or not to tell him that you didn’t need to write any more now that you knew each other. However, you let him go with a smile on your face and kept your mouth shut. If he wanted to write to you, you’d gladly let him. You were looking forward to seeing what time your scribbly, disordered, writing partner would come up with in your journal. 

Your journal, you thought to yourself. You and Arthur’s journal. 

You liked the thought of that. Arthur will just have to get used to it. 

Turns out, Arthur didn’t have to get used to it. He already was.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Stay Safe (Early Years)

Summary- 3.7k Curtis Everett x Y/N. Curtis is appointed by McGregor as second and preparing for the McGregor Riots. Traumatic almost Non Con event described. Written by request for @that-damn-girl​. Thank you so much for your love of Curtis babes. This is a complete rewrite, I have another version that I might post later as a “this could have been what happened between these two” lol.

Curtis sat among the men, his back braced against the wall, listening. They were collected to hurry to Gilliams, which could only mean one thing. McGregor got word somehow about the next part of the plan, for the revolt. The revolt they been planning for the past two years, Curtis had just been allowed to join McGregors inner circle, and now he leaned forward to see a map of the train cars and McGregor had his finger on one. "The water car. This here is where we gotta get past. From what this map says, there is only one water car.” 

Curtis scanned the map, but it was so dirty and worn, it was hard to tell what else they were looking at. It seemed a good portion of the front end was sleeper cars, entertainment cars. The middle, working class. They were growing food, making goods, and what also looked like hospital cars. Then a few storage cars and finally water. It made no sense to Curtis why they would have the water car so far back, just before the prison. Shouldnt it be near the front?

“Okay, so we go take the water car, or get past it?” Another member asked, shrugging. “Its like 7 cars to get up to the water car. How much further do you want to go McGregor?” Absently McGregor scratched at his beard, thinking. “What do you think Gilliam, make it the goal to get up to at least these food cars? We need it, desperately. They been halving our rations for some time now.” 

“Tactic to weaken us.” Gilliam sighed, rubbing his face and leaning forward slightly on his cane. “They know were gonna feed our children first. Weve already proven that ages ago.” The mans rheumy eyes glanced at Curtis, who looked away from the gaze.

Curtis’s placed his palm against his arm, easily feeling the scar through the fabric of his jacket. Most everyone... The guilt of his actions in the past flashed across his face momentarily before going back to his cold demeanor. Clearing his throat, he spoke up. “Where did you even get this intel anyways? Does anyone know if this map is accurate?”

“Its accurate, I paid dearly for this, and lets leave it at that.” McGregor gruffly stated, agitated that he would be questioned. Curtis quieted his questions as McGregor continued, laying out the rest of the plan. Which was simple enough. The ones in the first row would charge the meager amount of guards who did the daily head count, and get a hold of there weapons. Keep one alive, that was the important part. They needed his accessibility to open the doors. “Remember, Keep at least one alive, prefer two though. Just in case.” He stressed to all of them. “Not a word to anyone either. This will all stay hush until were finally ready.” 

“When is that gonna be?” Curtis decided to question again, and Gilliam this time answered. “Its almost new years, and there will be more activity back here.” The whole group groaned. Every year Minister Mason brought the tail end boiled eggs, and did a long winded speech in several languages about how Wilford was the divine and merciful. “So after we cross the bridge and do the tail end mockery, we will start.” Gilliam rubbed at his face. “Okay, leave me now. I need to rest.” 

With shuffles the people started to filter out, when McGregor stalled Curtis from leaving, leaving just the three men left in Gilliams space. “Curtis, we needed to speak with you specifically.” McGregor said, and Gilliam nodded in confirmation. 

“What?” Curtis asked, his brows arching in question. 

“Im tempted to keep you from going son, simply because if something happens to me, I need you to take up this cause.” McGregor tapped on the map. And Curtis shook his head in confusion as to what he is saying. 

“I dont understand, nothing is going to happen, were going to make it to the food cars.” Curtis stated with conviction. 

“We probably will, but we also need to be realistic here Curtis. If we dont get that far, there needs someone to take right over and keep this up with Gilliam. Getting the people out of this cage is the most important. I know your young son, but people already respect you. Your cool headed and smart, I know I will be leaving it in capable hands. And its just a precaution. Plan B.” McGregor explained. “And no one but Gilliam knows, so dont go mentioning it to anyone.” 

Curtis nods, still trying to process, and he looks between the two men. “Im not sitting this out, I refuse to. Weve come to far to sit it out.” and the two other men shook there head. 

“We already figured you refuse to sit out, but your not gonna be in the very front in that initial charge, your going to bring along the rest until we at least get enough weapons in hand.” Curtis was glowering already at this news and before he could say anything, Gilliam said sharply. “Curtis its already settled. You will do this cause Im asking you to.” 

Blue eyes that were enraged shut down at those words, and he gave a nod. Turning, he ducked out, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, lost in his thoughts as he weaved around the people doing there usual activities. When a holler caught his attention, and lifting his gaze, he saw you with a whole pile of kids racing down the aisle. Grabbing one into a hug, your tickled him and he squealed, making all the kids twist back like a flock. They all tackled you, and you mocked scream, tumbling out of sight into a bunk with them. His worries temporarily set aside, he made his way down to where you all disappeared. 

“Y/N, you still alive in there?” He ducked down enough to look in, and your hand shot out to grab ahold of his, which he pulled you out, your face flush with laughter, and you grab a hold of his coat to steady yourself. “With those little hellions? Never... they make me so proud, I raised them to be ruthless.” Giggling while you are still trying to catch your breath and you wag a finger in the bunk. “You all better be hidden when I come back.” Hooking your arm through Curtis’s, you pull him away, still brushing your hair from your face and smiling up at him. 

“Where you been all day?” you questioned as the two of you walk away from the bunk, and the kids scramble out to go hide away from you, you glance over your shoulder to take notice where they are headed, not that there was many options for them to go. As long as they werent disturbing other people to much. Turning back to Curtis, you tilt your head to look up and study him, his face was clouded and agitated, you could see where he was tensing his jaw enough to tic, something was certainly on his mind. 

Giving you a side ways glance, he gave just one word and then it all clicked for you. “Gilliams.” Of course, not that you were exactly privy to it, but you heard the whispers making there way through the train. It was like a match sparked being thrown on gasoline, snaking its way among the people, giving them all hope, and restlessness. Already you seen a spike in your parents clinic of people getting into mild fights. Dabbing away at the cuts and scrapped knuckles, warning them to keep clean as possible cause infections set in so easily. 

It was a ignited fire that was only getting hotter with time. 

You press your shoulder against his to drag more words out of him. “What else Curtis?” He looks like hes about to say more, working the words up from his chest, his eyes sharp in there resolve, and before he can open his mouth to fill you in, McGregor comes up from behind, and clasps Curtis’s shoulder in greeting. “Hey you two, coming up to the front soon? They are about to hand out protein bars.” A look, one that you very well caught, passed between them. An uneasy feeling sinking in your chest. 

“Yea, we will be headed up soon.” Curtis snaps a bit at him, and you wrinkle your brow at the odd interaction. Curtis watched McGregors retreating back, and tugged you lightly off to a small cubby, you stumbling into the out of the way place between the pipework that crisscrossed in the space between some bunks. “Curtis? what is this about?” 

“Listen to me Y/N, shits about to happen. And its gonna be just what youve been hearing. Im sure you and your folks will be part of clean up, but promise me you wont leave this car till weve made it through, okay?” Curtis’s eyes searched yours looking for confirmation, anything that you were going to listen to him. A slight nod is given, and you pick at your hands before reaching out, and fisting your hands in his jacket.

“Dont fucking get killed either Curtis, promise me that, okay? I know your going to insist on going.” So matter of fact, you knew your friend, he wouldnt be able to live with himself otherwise. You watched him for years punish himself for his desperate acts in the past. That fear that anyone would hold it against him, the way he grasp at his arm when he thought it was all to good for him. You knew, Curtis still hadnt forgiven himself. 

“I wont, I promise...” Fake promises, he couldnt look you in the eyes when he said this, no one could never know if they will return once they leave this car, but your look made the man ache in his chest. How he wished he could bring back that smile you had on just minutes earlier. You shined, a softness in all this hellish darkness. You have been there for him since the beginning, you came right out of that darkness from where you were hiding with Mat and fell to your knees, trying to stop the bleeding where he tried to cut off his arm. Curtis didnt even know how to react that day, when you at 13 showed more compassion then any of the others did, then he did. Your eyes wide in your fear, and yet you refused to pull away from him “Its okay, you dont have to do this, see?” Your words still echoed through him. 

It just continued, always you were piecing him back together again, seeking him out to wrap an arm around him when he missed human touch, making sure he felt you vibrate against him in your laughter when you leaned against him, your grin seeking his to flutter for a moment on his lips, teasing voice singing his name.The times your tears soaked on his shoulder, your hug rattling in his hold as your sadness penetrated the anger. When did it all really matter that much he held onto you like a life line? His life line. At some point for him, you crossed that line as just friend. And he felt it blossom through him with a heated desire he never felt before. What would it be like.... to have you as truly his? Forever his? You were just to good for the like of him. He would be a dark mark on you,  scrubbing forever to rub out his stain. 

Curtis didnt know how it happened, but in that moment, he had to know. Had to know if you were just as soft in his arms as you were strong, and his hands moved to cup your face, your cheeks fingers pressing back into your hair, and that was just what he imagined, silken tendrils wrapping around his fingers. You went wide eyed in those seconds, and yet never pulled away as if he was scaring you in any way. Your eyes softened for him, and when he pulled you in closer, your head tipped to meet him. That first touch, a soft press of lips was innocent sweetness, soft brushes of lips and breaths. 

Your innocence certainly made him continue forward gently, a tilt of his head and soft nibbles on your lip, a press of his tongue made you open in surprise and he let that kiss deepen. You were clumsy in it, always a little behind, but Curtis led you with encouraging strokes, the whole sensation dragged out a moan from you, a flush of your body pressing into his. His hands tightened slightly in your hair, and breaking from you, his forehead leaning against yours with soft pants shared between you. No you werent his, but what he wouldnt give for you to be. He was still trying to calm the fire you laced through him in that kiss. 

“I promise... I will come back Y/N” Crystal blue eyed promises now, and you accepted it far better this time, your lips still tingling from the contrast of soft kisses and brush of bristling beard, to his tongue filling your mouth, laying claim to you as his. 

But havent you really been his for a while? Even when you didnt know it, he was your safety, your dark guardian. 

Always looking out for you, protecting you.  

Drawing your way out, you are sure to slide the curtain closed for your patients privacy, and start making another round to see to other people, chat with them, just see if they need anything in general. You dont notice the wandering eyes following you, weaving through the people till you got to a quieter part of the tail end. You didnt notice, not until its to late when an arm shoots out in front of you, making you pause momentarily as it blocked you. “What the... Eric, what do you want?” You try to duck under his arm, but the mans grasp on your arm pauses you. A glance his way showed a handsome young man, blond locks curling around green eyes, that glinted coldly at you, and he firmly without any choice of your own backed you against the wall. “See youve been playing little home nurse again Y/N”

“Just helping mom and dad, can you please let go?” You try tugging your arm from his grasp and his other hand came up to your face to trace the curve, obviously not ready to loosen his hold, for whatever reason you would clam up around him, your heart fluttering and your breath quickening. Some would think it was innocent attraction. But it was more fear of what he would eventually do to you if given the chance.

“When you going to let me kiss you huh? I dont see why you keep fighting me on this.” He hovered closer, his breath washing over your face and you wrinkle your nose at it. It was hot and sour to you, you tried to pull back but there was no where else to go, so the back of your head would thump against the cold metal wall.

“Im not, I dont want to and you cant change my mind.” You wriggle once more trying to get him to stop digging into your arm. “So how about you go find one of the other girls? I know there are plenty who want to be with you.”

“To easy, I rather like the one who denies me” His voice dropped deeper, making you panic sightly. His eyes, you hated the way he would stare at you, following you from wherever he was, like you were a prize to be had. "I figured it's about time I change your mind about it though." You strain out of his touch on your face and go to push against his chest to stumble him back.

"I said no! Fuck no would I ever be with you, let alone kiss you" you snap at him, turning to leave, put distance between you two, back in a crowd. Eric was to coward to try to anything with people around. He snarled though, wrapping an arm around you.

Effectively he pinned your arms helpless and your back against your chest, falling back harder then you expected, making you helpless, his hand clasped over your mouth, effectively muffling any protests you had. "What you think your to good for someone like me sweetheart. If your good enough to get Curtis's dick wet, think you can mine as well without this much of a fight." Your eyes widened at his words. I haven't, were not, stop!... Just friends, you think in as your panic is washing over you, and he manipulated your head to fall back to his shoulder, you try twisting out. Then he pressed his face in your neck, and bit you, what started as a sloppy kiss turned into a bruising bite, yelping at the shock of pain and you try kicking him hard enough in the leg behind you to drop him. The tread of your boot slid down the inside of his leg, and he pushed you away from him to crash you against the trains wall, hard enough to bounce you off, making you groan from the harsh impact.

Erics hand whipped you around, effectively pinning you with his body. No way to leverage a kick again, and hands pinned your arms down to keep from attacking. "Fucken shit head!" Your voice raised into yelling at him, where was everyone? It was eerily quiet and no one around, he smirked at your struggles, dawning on you when you saw how turned on, felt how turned on. That foreign bulge dug into your belly. "Keep struggling Y/N, just makes me hard for you, so cute thinking you don't want this."

"Your vile Eric, like those front end pigs" nothing but disgust dripping from your tone, trying to hide your fear. But he knows, it just widens his predatory grin knowing your words were masking the fear coursing through your veins. His lips hovered so close, mocking tone as he brushed them barely against yours, as you tried tilting your face away. “Come on Y/N, just one little kiss for me. Do it and I will let you go.”

You glare at him and spit, right in the fuckers face, it runs down his eyes and nose, and you smirk at him as he starts cussing and wiping his face on his sleeve. “You little fucking cunt whore! Nasty pig think you can get away with that shit?!” His hand releases you and goes to hit you when a grasp catches his wrist, wrenching it back. Both yours and Erics eyes go wide in surprise, and you see Curtis glowering behind him, firmly twisting Erics arm hard, then harder again he snarls out. “She sure as fuck is gonna get away with it. I think she told you no”

Curtis jerked Erics arm further and a crack was followed by Eric screaming and letting you go, you slid away from his grasp, Curtis jerking him forward to take where he had you pinned before. They were evenly matched in size, but Curtis had him crushed between his body and metal, his face distorted as you glanced up. It struck you in this moment just how opposite these two men were. Curtis never once raised his voice in the time youve known him,but he had to raise above Erics squealing out in pain and anger. “When a person tells you no, It fucking mean no. You owe Y/N an apology.” He pulled Eric off the wall, and kicked at the back of his knees to drop him in front of you.

Curtis loomed over him, his arm still firmly twisted up between his shoulder blades, and growled in the mans ear. “Say it, or Im going to wrench it right off your body.”

“Im sorry!” you could see the effort it took Eric to say it, but Curtis clearly wasnt satisfied.

“AGAIN!” This time he really roared, Eric cowering a bit, and remorseful, he started again.

“Im sorry Y/N, I promise to never touch you again!” Curtis glances at you and nods that its okay, he had him firmly and you stepped forward, grasping the mans hair, and tipping his head back.

“Touch me ever again, or ANYONE on this train, your dead, do you hear me Eric? I will have no problem watching you die, either by my hand or another. Am. I. Fucking. CLEAR?”

“Yes! god yes, just let me go, it wont happen again.” Eric pleads, and you step away from Eric, and circle around to Curtis’s side. Shoving him harshly away, Eric rolled to a stand and clutched his arm, racing away as fast as he could. The coward, would probably make up some lie to cover face when he made it to your father to reset the arm. You stood next to Curtis, still fuming. Your fear from earlier forgotten, now you were just enraged watching where the coward disappeared.

“Hey, he aint gonna try messing with you again.” Curtis let his hand rest against your shoulder, looking down at you.

And thats what Curtis always did, he never expected more from you, not a thank you, not any kind of favor. He simply needed you to be safe, that was all he ever asked for from you. It was something that you could give him, he so desperately needed. 

You lick your lip, they are still swollen from the kiss, and you blush just a bit at the memory of his mouth on yours. He tipped his head, letting his thumb brush lightly on your cheek and he moved to kiss your forehead. 

“Thank you for that Y/N.” and you shifted in closer to press your face against his chest, your arms sliding around his torso, just holding him, memorizing this feeling right here, cause your first kiss, shook the words right out of you. 

You didnt know what would happen in the days to come, but you knew that right now, things between you two changed, having finally crossed that line. 

Tags-  @jtargaryen18 @what-is-your-plan-today @official-and-unstable-satan @p8tn0lish @stardancerluv @princess-evans-addict @patzammit  @that-damn-girl @curtisbbq @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @thatweirdwalangpake

[iwritesickfic]

boy who cried flu

(yes I am aware of how stupid this title is leave me alone)

Peter rarely - if ever - got sick. Nobody who didn’t know him well would believe it though - he had a long track record of absences and missed assignments, despite being a 3.9 GPA student. He’s flaked from social events and parties countless times, always citing he’s not “feeling well.” It’s not technically a lie, though he does lie sometimes. 

People understand physical illness - they know what it feels like to be stuck in bed with a bad cold - but mental illness? Not so much. So...he bends the truth. A professor won’t be very forgiving if you say you spent all weekend in bed because you couldn’t find the motivation to move, but say you had a bad cough? No one bats an eye.

So most people assume Peter has an awful immune system. That or he’s just a pussy who won’t leave the house with so much as a sore throat. Everyone except a select few - Simon, Ashlynn, and Alex. 

Simon’d been his friend since undergrad, and they’d been roommates for a time, so he knows exactly what Peter means when he says he “doesn’t feel well.” Ashlynn is the type to show up unannounced with a quart of homemade soup. And Alex...Alex was there when things had gotten out of hand. 

But just because they knew he was lying when he said he was sick didn’t mean he stopped using it as an excuse. Ashlynn, despite herself, would usually not question it. Simon wouldn’t think twice about the lie, almost taking it as a direct confession. Alex would usually get pissed off and demand some kind of proof.

They were supposed to go to the beach tomorrow - get up early and take the train together to rockaway. But somehow, for the first time in years, Peter has something more than some congestion. Something way more.

It started a few days ago, a runny nose and swollen sinuses. He slept like shit, and the next morning his throat was raw and he absolutely could not breathe through his nose. But he had class, so he took the train in and sat in his lecture and tried to keep his sniffling to a minimum. By the time he was headed home, he’d long since run out of clean tissues, so he tends to his nose with a damp scrap of napkin he found buried in his bag, his nostrils red and irritated from the abuse. 

By the time he gets home, his congestion has gone from a clogged, static brick in his head to leaky, runny mess, but he’s well aware he can’t take a day off from work on his thesis, so he sits in bed working until 2 AM, one hand wiping the mess from his upper lip, the other scribbling notes in his worn out pad. 

He wakes the next morning not sure when he fell asleep, his head pounding heavily behind his eyes, sinuses throbbing and inflamed. His throat feels swollen and hot, and the relentless sneezing that started the night before isn’t helping any. The two days prior, everything seemed to be concentrated in his head, but now it’s clear it’s migrating into his chest as well. Halfway through his day at work in the library, he starts to cough, wet and harsh. 

It doesn’t help that his body aches like he ran a marathon, and chills are coursing through him like ice water in his veins. By the end of the day he can’t wait to finally sit down and rest. His body’s been screaming for it since the moment he got out of bed, and all day shelving books has really taken its toll.

Unfortunately, he’s got an hour long commute and lucky for him, it’s standing room only. He grips the subway pole like a lifeline, his head spins every time the train rocks. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the darkened window - he looks awful. Bags like bruises under his eyes that are rimmed in pink and half lidded, his nose irritated and red. A coughing fit tears through him, and he tries his best to catch it in his sleeve. His knees start to tremble as he tries to take deep breaths, and he’s startled when someone taps him on the shoulder.

“You wanna sit?” the woman asks, and it takes him a minute to realize she’s offering her seat. Normally, he’d suck it up, but he’s too miserable to refuse. He mumbles a thanks, and sinks down.

It takes all his self control not to fall asleep then and there.

By the time he’s back at his building, he’s seriously doubting he can climb four flights to get to the apartment. Part of him would rather just lay down in the lobby but he knows this is the final stretch before he can climb into bed and sleep.

He’s interrupted by several fits of coughs, and by the time he’s reached the fourth floor he’s practically gasping for air, and soaked in sweat. The chills he had all day have swapped with an oppressive heat that makes him feel almost lightheaded. 

Somehow, he’s quite sure, he manages to stumble to bed, stripping off his damp clothes, the cool air on his slick skin throwing him back into shaking chills. Just as he’s about to let himself be sucked into sleep, his eyes fly open. Tomorrow. 6 AM. He’s supposed to go to the beach. There is no fucking way he is going to the beach.

He texts their group chat with trembling fingers.

hey im real sick i cant go tomorrow

There’s an immediate reply from Alex.

don’t fuckin do this man. we’re going.

A text from Simon.

you’ll feel better if you leave the house, you always do.

He sighs, cursing himself for using this shitty excuse so much now no one will take him seriously.

im serious i feel like trash

Alex answers immediately.

PETER. youre not sick youre being a pussy. we’re going to the fucking beach and we’re having a good time.

Simon responds.

chill alex.

if youre depressed thats fine but maybe consider coming still it might help.

i mean i’d feel better if you came

Peter groans.

im sick. like sick sick. like flu sick.

Alex shoots back quickly.

ok then what are your symptoms?

Peter rubs his eyes, trying to relieve some of the throbbing. 

fever, chills, aches, cough, runny nose, headache, tired.

There’s a moment of silence and he places his phone on his bedside table with a sigh. He’s about to go under when his phone starts to buzz. Once. Twice. Three times. He swears, grabbing it. Three texts from Alex. The first is a screenshot of the symptom list that appears when you google “flu” which just happens to be in identical order.

you need to be more creative

seriously man im not letting you miss this. we planned this months ago. dont be a dick.

Finally, Ashlynn chimes in.

you dont need to lie p, its ok if you dont wanna come.

While Peter would like to further argue that he’s not in fact lying, he just doesn’t have the energy. At this point, it doesn’t matter what they think. He’s not going - who gives a shit why? He’s able to fall asleep almost immediately, but unfortunately, he doesn’t really stay asleep.

He wakes up about every 45 minutes, coughing or shivering or burning or all three. After his fourth or fifth jolt awake he can’t for the life of him seem to get any rest. Every time he’s about to drift off, another coughing fit explodes from his chest and leaves him trembling. He’s hot, but he’s not sweating, which he realizes vaguely must mean he’s dehydrated. As the night wears on and his condition continues to worsen, he wonders if he should call an uber to take him to the ER. He can’t afford it, not in the slightest, but he’s not sure he’s ever felt this terrible before. Somehow, he remembers there’s an old thermometer in the kitchen. An old roommate had bought it thinking it would work for deep frying but didn’t realize the range only spanned from 95 to 107.

He needs to take his temperature. See how serious this actually is. He can’t remember the last time he actually ran a fever, so he’s not sure if this is just par for the course or whether this level of misery is cause for alarm.

He stumbles into the kitchen, and for once he’s glad to live in such a god-awfully tiny studio. He lands heavily against the counter, and rummages through the drawer to find the small device. After what feels like an eternity, he manages to grab it with shaking hands, fumbling with the buttons for a moment before flipping on the small kitchen light. 

He sticks it under his tongue, it feels like ice. He tries to coach himself on what he’s going to do. If it’s over 100, he’ll go to the hospital. No, that’s too low. 102?Still maybe too ambitious of a goal. It’s then he realizes he’s really just trying to justify what he’s going to do anyway - save himself an ER bill and stay in bed. He’s jerked out of his thoughts when the small device beeps and he removes it carefully from under his tongue. 

The display flashes 103.2. He doesn’t really know what that means but after a quick google search it’s not exactly any clearer. It’s bad, but not bad enough to cause brain damage, supposedly. Fuck it, that’s good enough for him. He climbs shakily back into bed, the small excursion has left him absolutely exhausted. 

He needs medicine. He knows that. Some tylenol at the very least, but if he can barely walk to the kitchen he doesn’t know how in hell he’s getting out the door, down the stairs, to the pharmacy, and back again. So, he’ll just have to live with it. 

He spends the rest of the night in and out of half-sleep, each coughing fit seeming to drive the illness deeper into his lungs. His nose has started to run again, and each rub with the already-used tissue makes his poor sensitive nostrils burn in protest.

The next morning he wakes to the harsh, deafening drone of his apartment’s buzzer system. He cracks his eyes and checks the time. 6:42 AM. Whoever the fuck it is can wait, he’d like to suffer in peace. Still, as he tries to slip back into the sleep the buzzer continues to go off and after about five minutes, he sits up in bed, fighting the wave of dizziness that washes over him. He stumbles to the keypad and presses the button that opens the lobby door, and the buzzing finally - mercifully - ceases. 

He grabs a t shirt from a pile on the floor and pulls on a pair of boxers - he doesn’t know if he’d be able to stand anything more with the way his fever is raging. He sits on the edge of his bed, trying to catch his breath, quickly breaking down into another awful fit of coughs. Just as he’s finished, he hears a heavy knock on the door. Sighing, he forces himself up, padding slowly over to the door, trying not to aggravate the dizziness any further. He pulls open the door and is confused to see not an overzealous delivery person, but his three friends. 

He stares dumbly for a moment before a breath catches in his throat and he breaks into thick, wet coughs. He sniffles, wiping his nose with his wrist, before looking back up at them.

“What?” he mumbles, and there’s an awkward silence. 

“Shit,” Alex finally says and Peter sniffles.

“What do you want?” he repeats, surprised at the hoarse, broken quality of his voice. Does he really sound that bad? Ashlynn pushes forward, wrapping him in a tight hug. She’s short, so her face is pressed into his chest, and he stumbles back slightly.

“Oh Peter,” she whispers, and he swallows, closing his eyes. She pulls away, and he has to force them open again. She she presses a hand to his forehead. Her palm feels cool but uncomfortable against his oversensitive skin. “You’re burning up.”

“I know,” he murmurs, wishing the conversation could be over so he can go lie down and not have to explain himself to his friends. He sighs, and narrowly avoids another coughing fit. “Are you gonna come in or you just all gonna stand there?” They exchange looks. “Well?”

Ashlynn pushes past him, followed by Simon and finally Alex. Peter shuts the door and tries his best not to look as fucked up as he feels walking to sit in one of his kitchen chairs. 

“What do ya’ll want?” he asks Simon and Alex, Ashlynn already digging through the medicine cabinet.

“We don’t want anything we were just concerned,” Simon says.

“Then why do you look so fucking shocked?” Peter snaps, even though he knows Simon is only telling the truth.

“Because I was 100% sure you were bullshitting,” Alex says. Peter is far too tired to get into a verbal sparring match with Alex, but he tries halfheartedly anyway.

“Still sure?” before Alex can reply Ashlynn is back with a damp washcloth and the thermometer he’d used the night before. She lays the cloth on the back of his neck, and he can’t help the small whine that escapes. 

“Open,” she says, and he does. She places the thermometer under his tongue gingerly, and strokes some of his hair off his forehead. “You don’t have anything? For this?” Peter shakes his head. She presses her lips into a line. “Simon and me are gonna go out and grab some stuff, ok?”

“That’s not necessary.” His voice is almost slurred with the fever, and as if on cue the thermometer beeps. Ashlynn frowns at the reading. She shakes her head.

“Christ, Peter.” She touches his forehead again, this time with the back of her hand. “103.6 and it’s not necessary?”

“I don’wanna be lectured.”

“I’m not lecturing.” She spends another moment fussing with his hair before getting up, grabbing Simon. “We’re going to get some stuff, we’ll be back. Alex, make sure he doesn’t die, ok?” It’s clear Alex is about to protest, but Ashlynn levels him with a glare. They leave, and then it’s just Peter and Alex.

Alex stands by the door, hands in his pockets. It’s a while before either of them speaks.

“What was I supposed to think?” he finally says, and Peter tries to swallow his anger.

“I don’t know, man.” He runs a hand through his greasy, sweat damp hair. He starts to shiver again, wrapping his arms around his torso. Alex takes a careful step forward.

“You get why I wouldn’t believe you, right?”

“Yes, Alex.” The chills are now back in full force, he’s sure he must be shaking like a leaf. He wants nothing more than this conversation to be over, but Alex doesn’t seem to be getting to message.

“You never get sick. Ever. So what am I-”

“I get it. It’s fine. Just...stop talking. Please.” He’s shaking so bad he can feel his teeth chattering. He pulls his knees to his chest. He closes his eyes, praying something - anything - will warm him up. He hears footsteps and fumbling, then feels a dry, warm blanket being tucked around his shoulders. He looks up, and Alex is standing there, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Do you wanna lay down or something?” The thought of climbing back into his sweat damp sheets makes him cringe, so he shakes his head. “Why not?”

“S’gross, I sweat a ton.” 

Alex nods.

“Right. What about the couch? You can lay on the couch and I can do your laundry.” 

Getting horizontal sounds heavenly, so he nods, and Alex touches his shoulder, quickly pulling his hand back.

“What the fuck - dude, you’re like...on fire. Shit.” He tests the side of his neck and winces. “Fuck.”

“Can you just help me?” Peter is embarrassed at how small and sick his voice sounds, and the fact he’s asking Alex of all people for help, but he knows if he tries to do it on his own he’s going to fall and crack his skull.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He wraps an arm around Peter’s waist, and supports him the few feet to the couch. It’s not very far but his knees go weak about halfway there and he’s glad Alex is holding him. As soon as he gets onto the couch, he curls on his side and closes his eyes. “You’re ok?” Peter nods, and Alex pats his shoulder awkwardly. “Ok. Cool. Just...stay there, I guess.” Peter can hear him starting to strip the bed.

“I was maybe gonna go for a run,” he mumbles, and Alex laughs softly. 

“Definitely. Then I’ll enroll at NYU for my bachelor’s.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t have all my debt.”

“You’re right. I’ve been trying to rack up some credit card bills but so far no luck.”

Peter opens his eyes to see Alex with the bundle of sheets in his arms and the bottle of detergent. He pauses for a second, shifting from foot to foot.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Peter swallows hard.

“I know man, it’s ok.” Alex smirks.

“Alright. Don’t die while I’m gone.”

[wanda-peitro-lorna-maximoff]

Part two: Morganas dream.

The two women eventually fell asleep together, with Morgana laying on Mab as Mab rests her head on top of Morganas.

It was probably a good decision, to fall asleep in the realm of the fae... well, at least for Morgana. She only dreamed sweetly. The thick magic captured by the leaves, flowers, trees and everything in between stored much more than just power from magic. Magic was feeling. Emotion. And with that emotion from your casting comes memories. Memories of what you were feeling and why, imprinted in your magic and now all around you in the smallest of ways.

That night, Morgana dreams were influenced by the thick magic all around them. The emotion and feeling leaching into her very bones...

Twigs snapped under the young girls feet. She was out of breath and her feet and legs ached, begging her to stop. But she couldnt. She had to get away from that place.

-

Little Morgana pendragon just had a fight with her brother. Siblings always faught, it's only natural. But this time his words struck her deep. She didnt care what he had to say afterwards. To little Morgana Pendragon? It was just as bad as being struck by a dagger.

"Arthur!" Morgana whined. "You've been busy all morning! You said youd play with me!" The 9 year old nagged her brother, who was trying to work on his sword fighting skills, using a wooden toy. "I told you I'll play when I'm done." Arthur told his little sister. He was 10. Which meant in his fathers eyes, that he was far past due to begin his training to be the next king. He hasn't had a real break since his birthday... 6 months ago. Hes been stressed and tired all the time. And the few times hes asked his father for a break... well, let's say it didnt go well. "You said that hours ago!" Morgana flopped down on the dirt ground a few feet away. The poor child had always been... different. Partially due to Uthers affair. Morganas mother wasnt Arthur's mother. He cheated on his own queen... and word got out. She was disliked by most of the court and the other half only pitied her. And their father?... he really only kept her because he knew what she was. What her mother had been and what Morgana is blossoming into. "Yeah and I'll keep saying it until I'm done." Arthur told his sister as he whacked his fake enemy with his wooden sword.

" But father said you have to play with me! We're family!" At the mention of their father, and the word family; all the nagging finally came to a boiling point. "Yeah? Well you're NOT my real family! You're barely even my sister! I've got better things to do than babysit my fathers cheating trophy!" He yelled. To say morgana looked shocked... was an understatement. Tears began to well up in her eyes. Her hands began to tremble as she forced herself up and ran. Sniffling as tears began to run down her face. She could hear her brother yelling after her... but she paid him no mind.

Arthur couldnt believe he just said that. To his own sister. The only family he had left that wasnt like Uther... that would understand what their father was like better than anyone else, and he just said that? But his thoughts were completely halted by Gwen's voice. "Arthur! I've been loo... what happened?" The young girl had just come from her private study lessons. "I- i... made a mistake- I did something terrible-" Arthur's heart rate sped up. His eyes started to water, he couldnt look Gwen in the eye. "Morgana!" He yelled after his sister, his voice cracking. But for now, gwen didnt ask any questions, giving arthur a concerned look before joining in his shouting after Morgana. "Morgana!!"

-

Little Morgana didnt realize how far she'd ran by the time she finally stopped. Catching her breath and falling to sit against a tree... a tree...?

Morgana looked up to see a thick blanket of trees above her, birds chirping over head... Arthur told her that before their dad made Camelot into a growing Capitol, everything around them was Forests and trees... Morgana sniffled and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her dress. Her surroundings were beautiful... calming and quiet, but not void of sound. Slowly, morgana got herself up and timidly began to walk around the wooded area. She felt... at home here. Like she belonged.

Butterflys, dragonflys, humming birds and cardinals flew all around the forest, giving the young witch a grand welcome party. Morgana couldnt help but grin, wiping her face with her other sleeve and giggling. The wild flowers tickling her ankles, the sound of a nearby stream calling her name...

But her frolicking wasn't spent alone. Up in the trees a girl watched on curiously. Hopping from tree to tree to catch up with Morgana as she explored... until she finally stopped at the river, seeing ducks and fish and on the other side a small family of deer. Morgana gasped at the beautiful sight, slowly and carefully approaching the opposite side of the stream. She watched the beautiful wild creatures drink from the river, eating a bit of grass and idling about... until their ears twitched. The family looked around, startled, trying to find the source of the noise... until they suddenly ran off. Morgana looked confused. She hadn't made a sound, just like Arthur had taught her, but they still ran away? She pouted and gave the water a gentle splash, disappointed in their disappearance... until she felt a warm breeze and a small snapping of twigs behind her.

""What do you think you're doing?" Morgana shrieked and fell over, right into this mystery persons legs. Which only startled Morgana more, scrambling to turn around and back up, completely forgetting about the water, until the girl grabbed Morgana by the front of her dress. Just stopping her short from falling into the river.

"Let me go!" Morgana yelled, immediately struggling against the strange girls grasp. "Okay. Fine." So she did. And Morgana fell into the river. The girl crossed her arms, looking down at Morgana who looked very unhappy. Couple this with the reminder that she was probably lost and the words her brother said... Morgana couldnt help but begin to sniffle. The girl immediately looked alarmed. "Are you crying? Dont do that- you asked me to let you go and I did!" She said defensively. Morgana gave her a dirty look and pushed herself up before walking out of the river. "Yeah. And some help you were!" She fired back. The girl looked a little taken aback by Morganas words. "What do you want me to say? I'm sorry?"

"Yes!" Morgana turned around to finally really get a good look at this strange girl, hands on her hips accusingly. "... then I'm sorry." The strange girl finally replied, crossing her arms. It finally occurred to Morgana... that this girl didnt look like anyone shes ever seen. She had antlers and far paler skin... covered in leaves and wild flowers with keen, cat like eyes... morganas eyes went wide. "Wait-" her brother and father had told her all about these people... "a-are you-" the strange girl finally broke out into a grin. "A faerie? One of the Fae?" She finished her sentence, circling morgana. "Are you??" Morgana urged her. "What's it to you?" The strange girl made herself appear taller, standing on her tiptoes to tower over Morgana, who's eyes now only held fascination. "So you are?? Can you fly??" The girl immediately fell back on her feet. Usually this revelation would cause people, young or old to go running for the hills or beg for forgiveness... "wh- no! I cant fly! Who on earth told you that?" She sounded a little offended. "I just figured since you were a fairy..." morgana trailed off, looking at her from head to toe.

The strange girl grimaced. "Yeah?" She circled morgana again, now picking up one of her arms, examining it, and doing the same to the other before flipping morganas hair infront of her eyes and back again. "And you SMELL like a weirdo human. Do you like eating garbage?" She asked her in return, to which Morganas face scrunched up in disgust. "What?? No! Humans dont-... okay. Yeah I get it." She crossed her arms defensively. To which the strange girl laughed. "You do smell weird though..." she got an inch from Morganas face, looking into her eyes, then moving her hair to look at her ears , before backing up to look at her head to toe. "You're a human alright, but ya just smell... like something I know." She seemed puzzled by this. Morgana smiled a little. "My dad said my mom was a witch. Which means I'm probably special too... hey! We're the same!" She told the girl, who backed up a bit. "Just cause your mum was a witch doesnt mean we're the same." She said defiantly, putting a hand to her chin. "... but I think I know a way to test it." She gave Morgana a mischievous grin.

[lady-charinette]

Envy is an Ugly Thing - Felix Fic

But you dont have a lot of friends, acting the way you do, do you?'

The words of Chat Noir still echoed in his mind, even when he was sitting on a train back to London.

He was reminded of home, of his home back in London, the quiet days when he would play piano in his room or read by the fireplace, the peaceful evenings when his mom came home earlier and they ate dinner together and shared jokes and stories from their day.

Days when his dad had been alive and they played chess in the afternoon when work would permit, when Felix would play violin and his dad would either listen with a smile or play along with him on the piano. Mom would giggle at them from the doorway and start singing off key.

His mind traveled back to school, to the kids who didn't like him and their words. To Chat Noir's words.

Felix had heard all sorts of things thrown at him, the words of some superhero from France shouldn't have impacted him as they did.

But they did.

He didn't know the superhero, but in a world where his cousin would be mean, those words might've as well come from Adrien directly.

Felix shook his head, staring at the silver ring on his finger, rotating it in slow circles.

No, Adrien had never been mean, not even as a kid. Mischevious, but never mean.

They did pranks together all the time, most of them came from him though. Adrien always tagged along because it was fun.

Felix sighed, resting his chin on his fist, a faraway look in his eyes.

'Hey Graham! What's a rich kid like you doing here? Doesn't your dad have time for you? Oops, pardon, I forgot he was dead!'

A ferocious, burning ache settled deep in his chest, the same pain he felt whenever he had to think of his dad, and the day it rained on his funeral.

The same day his mom stopped smiling quite so brightly as before, the day her voice got just a little higher and her jokes more frequent in an attempt to keep everyone happy.

'Hey blondie! You don't belong here with your posh accent and stupid dress shirts, so why don't you go where the rich ones go? Back to your golden cage!'

Golden cage...

He assumed it was fitting, but he thought his cousin fit that criteria more. Gabriel hadn't allowed him to go to public school until just a few months ago, after all. No freedom, just trapped in that mansion alone with a strict father and his servants.

He almost felt sorry for him.

'Felix, I'm really sorry, I wouldn't mind doing the project with you but...but don't you have tutors who do all the work for you?'

All the voices of his classmates rang in his head and Felix absentmindedly moved his fingers in gentle circles over a spot between his eyes.

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder and he saw his mother staring at him worriedly. "Felix, are you alright my dear son?" her warm hands framed his face and he offered the woman a small smile.

"Yes mom, I'm fine. It's probably the jet lag."

She nodded in understanding, rubbing his cheek in motherly affection. "We'll be home soon, then you can go and lay down. It's been hectic at your uncle Gabriel's." a sour expression crossed her face but it was gone as quickly as it came when she realized her son's eyes were still trained on her.

Felix offered one last smile, before he turned his head away from her, heart heavy and acidic with hatred.

His dad was dead, all he had of family was his mom. And of course, his cousin and uncle.

Gabriel didn't like him of course, not that the same can't be said for him. Adrien was just clingy, oblivious to the world around him, oblivious to what type of man his own father was.

But he had so many people doting over him.

Annoying Chloe.

Those friends that sent him those videos.

That girl that said she loved him.

He never had that.

Nobody but his parents told him they loved him.

He had no friends, Chat Noir was right, but that didn't mean Felix couldn't get his way without them.

He didn't need friends.

He needed allies to get the stolen family heirloom and bring it back to its rightful owner.

He managed to steal one of the rings, but there would be another opportunity to get the other one, he knew it.

Felix glanced down at the silver ring and felt an odd sense of awe. He'd heard the story of the twin rings from his mother countless of times and yet, he could never listen to it enough it seemed.

"Hey mom, do you mind telling me the story about the rings again?"

Amelie turned to look at her son, a clearer look in his eyes than before and she smiled. "Oh, you heard it so many times before, but alright, let me start from the beginning. Your aunt Emilie and I..."

Felix smiled, content to lean his head back and listen, for the time being, everything went according to plan.

'The rings will be back where they belong. In the family.'

Amidst his mom's retelling of the age old tale about the rings, Felix abruptly remembered another thing.

Chat Noir's ring.

Adrien's ring.

They looked eerily alike.

Free for everyone to add their ideas into it (and up for adoption!)

Also, I apologize if its crappy, wrote this in a rush and wasn't sure if I should post it or not but here we are ^_^

[thewalkingfanfictions]

Relax (Steve Rogers x Nonbinary!reader)

“Imagine taking care of Steve after a particularly difficult mission.”

Relax -- (Steve Rogers x Nonbinary!reader)

Description: Steve comes back from a bad mission, and the reader (with powers similar to Jasper from Twilight) has to help him relax.

Warning: some depressing stuff from Steve and some vague mentions of a failed mission including fire and kids or something. Probably a couple cuss words, I dont remember.

Genre: general fluff, but it starts out kinda angsty, hurt/comfort

Pairing: Hurt!Steve Rogers (Captain America) x non gender specific!reader

A/N: once again, I wrote this when I was, what, ten? So, like... don't judge. Or do, I don't really care, actually. Gif isn't mine, y'all should know that. I finally managed to post it onto the right page, be proud. I'm still leaving it up over there, though, cause I'm too lazy to actually delete it fully. Anyway...

Words without A/N: 1942

Masterlist

<—————————————>

He hadn't been able to save all of them. He should have been able to save all of them. There had been children, babies even. And he hadn't been able to save them. He hadn't been able to get them all out of the building in time.

It had been a very long, and very hard mission. He had known it would be from the start, but he hadn't realized just how mentally damaging it would've been. He could still hear the screams of the victims still trapped inside of the burning building that he should've been able to save.

All he could think about was the people who had lost their lives, and the people who had lost loved ones, as he trudged into the elevator that would take him to his floor of the Avengers Tower. He didn't even bother to go to the debriefing that was held after the mission, he just headed towards his room in some desperate attempt to escape his pain and grief and stress.

 As he made his first step off of the elevator on his floor, he vaguely registered someone speaking to him.

"Mistah Rogers? Are you alright? Well, no, uh, of course you're not alright. I can feel what happened. Oh, I'm so sorry, Mistah Rogers."

The sweet, slanted voice of (name) (last name) broke through the somber fog that had seemed to wrap itself around his mind. He usually rather enjoyed the empath's ramblings, but right now their reading his emotions was not good. He had to keep up his hero facade, if he didn't, he might as well be walking away from himself. So in an attempt to get away from them, he just grunted and kept walking.

"Mistah Rogers? Hey, did you hear me?"

'Just go away, kid,' he thought to himself. He felt his emotional support beams snap just a moment before he rounded on the empath.

"You know, for somebody who has the literal ability to read peoples feelings and emotions, you sure can't tell when your presence isn't wanted, can you?!" He growled, his voice dangerously low. He didn't mean that, of course, he just couldn't deal with people right now. He saw a flash of hurt cut across their eyes at his words, but it quickly demolished and reformed into some odd form of understanding.

"Oh I'm... I'm sorry–I'll, uh, I'll just g-go now," they replied in a stuttered mumble, before scurrying towards the elevator. As he watched their heel disappear behind the metal doors, he almost reached out to tell them he didn't mean it; but the door was too fast, and before the words could escape his lips, the (your hair color) haired empath was gone from sight.

He let out an irritated sigh and ran a hand over his face, before about-facing, and continuing the trek to his room.

The second he kicked the door closed behind him, he was taking off his clothing and slipping into a pair of baggy sweat pants, and belly-flopping down onto his too-soft bed.

He just laid there a moment, feeling himself slip into that beautifully fuzzy haze of not-full-consciousness and not full sleep. Focusing on that and not the ache in his shoulders and back or the sound of screaming that still reverberating in his mind was probably why he didn't notice the soft knock that came to his door, or the click of the hinges as it was pushed open slightly to reveal the same (hair color) haired, (eye color) eyed person that he had nearly shouted at in the hallway only a few moments before. He should have been ashamed of his lack of vigilance, but in all honestly, thinking back on it later he would probably be glad he hadn't.

The empath carried a small bag that held several different items in it. Most of which Steve would deny ever using if he was ever asked outright. Everything from essential oils to lavender scented bath soaps were held in that bag.

~~~~~~~

They knew that Stevens previous explosion was not really aimed at them, he was only stressed and in desperate need of some well deserved R&R. They also knew that what they were about to do could get them yelled at by the super soldier, but they couldn't not help him. Part of being an empath was feeling someone else's pain as if it were one's own, and right now, all the pain and anger and grief that he felt was also within them. So their doing this for him was to help them almost as much.

Hesitantly, they reached out a trembling hand and placed it upon his bare shoulder. At the initial contact he stiffened and sharply inhaled, but, as they released some of their power, he immediately began to calm down.

Another part of their power was the ability to manipulate other peoples emotions. It may not have been the coolest power, but, in times like this, they found it rather useful.

They removed their hand from his shoulder just long enough to rub some essential oils and lotions onto their hands, before replacing them on his shoulder and softly beginning to massage away the tension. His muscles were still so wound up from the mission that it took them a few moments to get through to his sore flesh, but the moment they did, he let out a small breathy groan that brought a small smile to their lips.

They worked their way all the way across his broad shoulders, and then down his back, all the way to the band of his low-riding sweatpants and back up to repeat the motion again in backwards order. Switching between soft kneading and harder circles with the heel of their small hand, continuing for the better part of an hour until his muscles were back to their previous limber flexibility.

They had noted some twenty minutes before that his groans and sighs of appreciation had morphed into soft snores and the rapid flow of rabid emotions that had cut though his consciousness before were now down to a minimum.

'Good,' they thought, 'its working.'

But now that they needed him to move, it could be possibly problematic. Gently, they moved up to his face and gingerly placed a pale hand upon it, shaking him slightly to wake him and whispered quietly.

"Hey, Mistah Rogers... he, I need you to roll over for me... Do you think you can, love?"

His beautiful blue eyes opened just a slit to see their face and he let out a rather loud, guttural moan as he pushed himself to roll onto his back, his tired muscles not quite awake enough to push himself up with much grace, as he just kind of flopped over, one arm layed across his abdomen the other still trapped under his body. They gently pulled his arm from under his body, and layed the other straight beside him, before re-applying more lotions and returning to message his front side.

Again, they started at one shoulder and worked their way across to the other, then worked their way down his chest and stomach, then back up before going to his bicep and massaging down his arm, all the way to his hand, going back up, then repeating the action with his other arm.

They left him for a moment to go to his bathroom and start the bath. Taking the correct products from their bag, they began pouring in generous amounts of bath salts and bubbles as it filled.

They quickly went back into his bedroom and softly shook him back awake, careful not to be too harsh.

"Hey, there, Mistah Rogers, come on, I've got a bath running for you."

His eyes opened ever so slightly yet again to take in their face, and process what the (eye colored) eyed empath had said. With a groan, he pushed himself to a sitting position, and allowed them to pull him into the bathroom. Once there, they turned to him expectantly before blushing heavily and turning their back to him so he could slip out of his sweats. He was far too tired to be very embarrassed at the happenings as he gingerly climbed into the bath, using the bubbles as a sort of blanket to hide his, heh, "intimate area" from view.

As soon as they knew he was covered decently, they turned back with a washcloth and poured some soap onto it, scrubbing the foam into the rag to make it sudsy.

They bent and sat on their knees at the side of the tub, leaning forward and not hesitating to begin washing him with the utmost care.

~~~~~~~

The feeling of their rag covered hand scouring over his body gave him chills, he hadn't felt so well taken care of like this since before the serum, when his oldest freind would take care of him when he was sick. And, as much as he hated to admit it, it felt amazing. To be vulnerable to someone like this had an almost orgasmic quality to it. He let his head drop back onto the edge of the tub and closed his eyes, allowing himself to fully relax against their adept hands as they swept his body.

He felt the soft rag cross his shoulders, then down his arms, then across his toned stomach, stopping before their hands dipped bellow the belt line and went down his legs, all the way down to his feet.

He felt as their unclothed hand moved down his arm and gently grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand above the waters bubbly surface and setting the wash rag in his hand. Wordlessly, they gestured to his groin area, asking him to wash himself while they left to get some dry towels.

He did as they had silently asked, and they returned quickly with two large, fluffy, white towels to dry him with. The empath helped him stand and step out of the bathtub, handing him one of the towels to dry his front while they patted dry his back.

He stood as still as he could on limbs that felt like gelatin as they finished drying him and helped him back into his sweat pants. Leading him back to his bed. They pulled back the bed spread and helped him lie down in a comfortable position.

They stayed like that for a few moment, just watching each other, before (name) smiled a small smile, squeezed his hand, and turned to leave.

But their hand didn't leave his.

He held them back until they looked back down at him with curious  eyes.

"Thank you," they said simply. "and... call me Steve."

Their answer was just a kind smile and another soft squeeze to his hand. They tried yet again to move away from him, but again was stopped by him not releasing their hand. A small blush creeped onto his cheeks as he asked quietly:

"Would you, uh, would, would you mind staying with me, for tonight?" He quietly questioned.

Yet again their responding smile answered his question as they crawled down into the bed beside him. He turned towards the empath and they pulled him towards them, resting his head on their chest and reaching up to toy with his still slightly wet blonde hair.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep in their embrace, and not much longer for them to follow suit. Their hand still buried in his soft hair.

Let's just say that it was the best night of sleep either of them had had in a very long time.