#I also couldn’t find the one where we was wearing the elephant shirt?

[bellaajame]

Luke is trending on Twitter right now, and I was immediately struck with horror because that's never good, but then I found out that it was just because people were fawning over how pretty he is, so-

one of the only reasons he should be trending for 😤

like-

#cloey #bianca #He was looking p snazzy that day #can agree #however looking at the tag 24 hours later it is just him being used as a green screen 💀 #I also couldn’t find the one where we was wearing the elephant shirt? #luke #lh

[haik-choo]

how the haikyuu boys confess to you (on valentines day)

tsukishima:

For once, Tsukishima cares. He cares about your reaction, your words, your expression, your feelings (about him) -- just this once. It’s because of he pressure of your actions weighing down on his heart like an elephant on an orange that he plans. He made sure he got your favorite flowers, he has the specific type of desert that you like, he’s wearing the shirt he got when he thrifted with you for the first time -- the one that you said “makes him look really hot”-- and he’s at your door. He almost laughs at his reflection in windows of the shops he passed coming here, how pathetically in love he is, how hopelessly enraptured he is by you, a dork who bought him a mug with your face printed on it (”so you can see me every morning in college when you’re grumpy and won’t admit you miss me”). He rings the doorbell and knocks softly, hesitant, at the door. He hears a response come from inside the house and rapid foot steps approaching: He looks up while he’s waiting, pondering about if he’s really going to do this. He could always throw the bouquet of fragrant flowers and sweets down the railing and pretend he was bored and wanted to hang out; but when you fling open the door in your heart-pajamas, hair frizzy and sticking out everywhere, your face slack in shock at what he’s carrying, cheeks aflame and eyes glassy with a sheen of hope.... he decides it maybe isn’t such a bad idea to be so stupidly in love that he bought a bouquet the size of an elephants head.

“Do you wanna be my valentine, dumbass? If you say no this’ll be really fucking awkward. Please say yes.” 

atsumu:

He never planned on saying it. Hell, he never even wanted to hang out with you on valentines, afraid that the words he kept hidden within the trenches of his heart would surface, bubbling and tumbling clumsily out of his mouth. But your text at 9pm on february 14th ended with a little smiley face and he decided to throw his new year’s resolution of stopping hanging out with you everyday out the window. Your smile was too addicting. He knew what he was getting himself into: it was late at night and you were both laughing down the empty streets, the moon hidden and instead a sky freckled with stars hung above. It was too perfect. You were too perfect. All it took was a dumb joke (on his behalf) and your dumb, squawk-like laughter to cause his heart to freeze. He’d never experienced this feeling before, the feeling of his eyes catching onto one image, the image of your face contorted with happiness, his whole body stopping, arms loose by his side, pupils dilated so wide. The words never would have left his lips had he not been drunk on your laugh, for his sober conscious was much too afraid of the possibility of rejection, the fear that your eyes would flit uncomfortably to the side with stuttered words of a pathetic-apology filling the air, his ears, and his heart. But god, his stupid one-track-mind brain couldn’t stop his mouth from moving. He was too far gone, lost in you, that his stupid mouth just couldn’t keep still. 

“I love you, so much.”

sakusa: 

The countertops are littered with bowls of icing and leftover batter, to which sakusa scrunches his nose at. He forces you to clean them, and “clean them properly” while he finishes preparing the cookies to go into the oven. Sakusa feels content despite your loud voice and strange taste in music: for a long while he wondered why your presence both simultaneously calmed him down while sending his heart into a frenzy, but now he knows it’s because he’s caught in the web your love. He doesn’t really mind, honestly, in fact, it makes his heart warm and full. The amount of time he spends with you is shocking, and he does things with you that he does with no one else -- he thought his feelings were more than obvious. But when you glance at his cookie-shaping from your spot at the sink and laugh, saying “Sakusa! you’re really good at baking! your future lover is gonna be so happy” Sakusa can’t help but let his movements stop and eyes stare at you in disbelief. He doesn’t even bother to verbally reply, instead opting to reach over and flick your forehead and go back to putting the cookies in the oven. Your whine doesn’t go unnoticed (”what was that for?!”) but it goes unanswered. After the dishes are washed, and the cookies are living their last few moments in warmth, you and Sakusa lean against the counter, staring at the timer tick closer to 0:00. Out of the blue, your voice softly finds its way to his ears, “I’m so happy. I know you’re picky at who you let into your apartment -- i still don’t know why you let me in -- but, really, I’m so happy. Thanks for tolerating me!” Sakusa just stares. At your face, the curve of your eyelashes, the batter in your hair, the sad smile playing your lips -- and the words flow out effortlessly. Your head whips over to him, and he laughs. “You’re so hopeless, you know that?” and with that, the timer beeps.

“You know it’s you I’m in love with, right? Why else would I let you make a mess in my kitchen?”

sugawara:

He had made up his mind. It was a week before the day of love, and Sugawara had made up his mind. No longer could he pretend that what he was feeling was just friendship, no longer could he hide how he truly, genuinely felt. It makes him laugh, thinking about how he thought he could ignore his feelings and that ,miraculously, one day, they’d disappear into thin air. But now he’s at the rooftop on the school, a pink letter gripped tightly by his clammy hands, and he’s ready. Ready for your rejection, for your acceptance, for your tears, for anything. When he made up his mind a week ago about confessing, he’d also accepted all the possible outcomes. If loving you -- and telling you that he loved you -- meant that everything you two had would crumble right before his very eyes, then so be it. He couldn’t hold his heart back anymore. Every second of every minute of every hour of every day he spent wishing that you were his, and he was yours. Love was messy. Love could hurt. But the worst outcome of love is when you keep silent. Plus, if you shared his feelings, then he might just be the happiest man alive. So, when the heavy metal door of the rooftop opens, exposing your confused expression, and when the wind suddenly starts back up, flipping your hair all around like a dramatic scene from a romance film, Sugawara has his mind made up. Determinedly, swiftly, he stands up. His eyes are glazed with passion and confidence. Calmly, he sticks his hand out, the pink letter with drawn-on hearts and cursive handwriting filling the envelope. When you gently take the letter from him, realizing what this all means, and look back up at him, face flushed, his mouth opens. Sugawara had made up his mind.

“I can’t hide it anymore. I'm so in love with you, I think my heart might explode -- will you accept my feelings?” 

bokuto: 

Bokuto won’t lie -- it took him a while to understand what he was feeling was not normal. ‘Normal’ for friends is spending time together, laughing together, going over to one another’s house and drinking until late. It’s hugging each other sometimes (or a lot, if you’re Kuroo), it’s hoping you always have them by your side. But what he feels for you? it took Akaashi smacking him upside the head and explaining to him what his feelings meant for Bokuto to realize. What he felt for you, was not friendship. He wanted to wake up next to you, he wanted to be the only one who you went out on ‘friend-dates’ with, he wanted to feel your lips on his shoulder, cheeks, lips. He wanted to see you at the other end of an aisle someday, but he didn’t want to be the guest at the wedding. He wanted to protect you, even though you didn’t need protecting; he wanted to hold you, to  indulge in your warmth, to be the only one you held in his arms. He wanted to be buried next to you. “You’re in love with her, you dense idiot. God -- that’s not normal. I mean, do you want to kiss my cheek, be buried next to me?” Akaashi sighed out, Bokuto shook his head, no. “But you want to kiss them? Watch them grow old?” Bokuto shook his head, yes, but slowly. “Well, there’s your answer. Bokuto, you love them.” And that’s when everything clicked. That’s when the lightbulb flickered on, when his eyes widened. God, how dumb was he? And he’s letting you spend Valentine’s day alone? Without thinking, his hand reached for his phone, tapped on your contact (you were on speed-dial), and waited for your voice to ring through the speaker. “Yeah, what’s up, Ko?” He blurted out his words, almost insensitively, not realizing their true weight. The truth made his body feel light, and he couldn’t stop the bubbles of laughter that erupted from his throat -- he felt so stupid. How could he not have figured it out sooner? He didn’t even wait for your response before he started talking again (Akaashi nearly slammed his head on the table), which caused a small smile to break out on your face. Bokuto was so, so stupid. 

“I just realized i love you. Like, really, really, love you. Hold up -- is there a place we can meet up so I can tell you this face-to-face? Wait, where are you? I’ll meet you there! Oh, happy Valentine’s day, by the way!” 

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyuu fluff #tsukishima x reader #bokuto x reader #atsumu x reader #sakusa x reader #sugawara x reader #tsukishima #bokuto #sakusa #atsumu #sugawara #tsukishima fluff #bokuto fluff #atsumu fluff #sakusa fluff #sugawara fluff #haikyu x reader

[deluweil]

So this is a way Way overdue prompt that I got ages ago, but didn't have the time or muse-cooperation to write.

But I finally managed to write it!!

The prompt was given to me by the lovely @coffeeflavoredcookies : Chris all snuggled up to Buck as he tells him bedtime stories with Eddie standing at the door looking at them fondly.

This is fluff all the way, hope you like it ❣

-

The house was dimly lit when he got back, at this point Christopher would have usually already been in bed - post bedtime story.

But Buck has been staying the last few days with them after getting hurt on a call. Nothing too bad, mild concussion, some bruised ribs and a now relocated shoulder still stuck in a sling, so things aren't exactly on the normal side.

Buck had trouble understanding Eddie’s insistence that he stays with them, not wanting to be a burden (earning him an eye-roll from Eddie) and reminded him that he shouldn’t have to look after a grown-ass man while having an actual child of his own to take care of, (which resulted in Eddie calling Christopher and asking him, on speaker, what he thought of Buck staying with them for the next few days. Christopher cheered and Buck glared at Eddie, mouthing ‘traitor’ at him.)

The thing is, Buck seems to be unable to understand that whenever he’s hurt, physically or emotionally or just generally off-balance, Eddie is thrown to a loop right with him. Eddie would rather have him near and safe than wonder how he is, if he’s sleeping, eating - taking care of himself.

Back when his leg was crushed, so close to losing Shannon, Eddie was very close to saying to hell with Ali and then Maddie and just take him over to their place.

But Buck wasn't his to keep back then, and to be honest he's not his now, but Ali is long gone and Maddie is super pregnant, giving Eddie the best excuse to bundle him into his truck and take him home.

Sore and tired, Buck mostly slept, crashing on the couch, no matter how many times Eddie tried to get him to crash in the master bedroom, at least during the day.

Eddie got used to returning home from work to find Christopher sitting in the living room either doing his homework or playing or watching TV while Buck slept on the couch. Sometimes Christopher could be found nestled to Buck's side as they both nodded off watching some nature documentary.

Eddie has an album in his phone containing multiple pictures of his boys together. He will never get tired of snapping pictures of them, moments frozen in time, forever.

Eddie took his shoes off at the door and dropped his bag next to them. He showered at the station so he wouldn't waste time with Christopher in favor of washing the day off, he quickly rinsed his hands with soup, a habit left from crazed Covid days, then went in search of his boys.

The house was quiet, and the normally occupied couch was empty. Eddie made his way to Christopher’s room, already recognizing Buck’s low gravel voice, reading what sounded like “I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew”, Buck got Christopher the book a couple of weeks prior to his injury.

He told Christopher that Maddie used to read it to him when he was younger. They read it so many times, that both of them knew it by heart at one point. This is the first time he got to read it to him, if Eddie is not mistaken.

Eddie quietly made his way to the bedroom and stopped to lean on the door frame, taking in the sight in front of him. Christopher was lying in bed snuggled up against Buck’s uninjured side, he was already fast asleep, but Buck kept reading quietly leaning against the headboard.

“Then I dreamed I was sleeping on billowy billows

Of soft silk and satin marshmallow-stuffed pillows.

I dreamed I was sleeping in Solla Sollew,

On the banks of the beautiful River Wah-Hoo,

Where they never have troubles. At least very few.”

Eddie was so caught up in the cute picture presented before him, that he hadn't noticed Buck’s stopped reading and turned welcoming eyes on him, “Hey Eds.” he greeted with a soft smile.

“Hey Buck.” Eddie greeted back with a smile, slowly making his way inside, gently detangling Christopher from Buck to lay him properly on the pillow, and freeing Buck to rise and stretch carefully.

The blonde nodded gratefully at his friend, with a last look down at Christopher, he smiled and left Eddie to tuck Christopher in safely and say goodnight. Eddie’s eyes followed Buck as he left the room, making sure he’s steady on his feet and also because he couldn’t really look away.

When Buck was out and on his way to the living room Eddie turned around, pressed a kiss to Christopher’s forehead, turned on the nightlight and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Eddie noted Buck’s absence in the living room and followed the sounds to the kitchen, standing at the door, he inquired “Should you be without your sling?”

"Honestly, no." Buck admitted with a sheepish smile, "But my neck is killing me and doing everything one handed is driving me crazy." He complained, handing Eddie a beer and leaned back against the counter while drinking the Gatorade he started earlier.

“At least you’re not drinking beer.” Eddie rolled his eyes. Buck scoffed “I wanted to, Christopher said no.” he smiled at Eddie’s laugh.

“Sounds about right.” Eddie nodded. “Did Carla make dinner?”

Buck shook his head, “No, she had to leave early, I told her I got this.”

“Tell me you ordered dinner.” Eddie demanded.

“There are waffles and Eggs in the microwave for you.” Was Buck’s sole reply.

“You’re supposed to be resting.” Eddie protested with an exasperated look.

“I have been resting, Edmundo!” Buck rolled his eyes, “And I’ll go back to resting now that your kid is fed, ready for his day tomorrow and has fallen asleep in his own bed for a change.” Buck retorted and was about to move past Eddie when the latter grabbed the wrist of his good arm and turned him around, bringing him flush against Eddie’s body.

Faces a hairbreadth away from each other, Buck met Eddie’s eyes with a curious look, “You gonna teach me to dance Eds?”

“I thought you already knew how to dance, Ev.” Eddie replied with a soft smirk, voice barely beyond a murmur.

“Hmm.. So wha..” Buck didn’t finish the rest of the sentence because Eddie’s lips were on his, and the finally in his head was so loud, it took him a second to sigh contentedly and kiss back.

Eddie’s hands strayed to Buck’s waist bringing him even closer as he maneuvered them carefully out of the kitchen and into the living room, stopping when the back of his knees hit the couch, his palms framing Buck’s face with one last kiss before breaking apart, chuckling at Buck’s protesting whine.

“What was that for?” Buck asked as Eddie rearranged the pillows on the couch before situating himself with his back to one side and reached to gently pull Buck down so he could lie back on Eddie’s broad chest, framed between his stretched forward legs.

Buck went pretty easily, not even questioning Eddie’s tactile display, it’s been known to happen, it just didn’t usually start with a kiss. Buck turned his head to one side looking up to meet Eddie’s eyes, Eddie’s brown eyes were soft and fond, Buck couldn’t help but smile back at him when Eddie offered him a grin.

Before Buck could open his mouth and ask again what’s going on, Eddie wrapped a long arm across Buck’s broad chest and threaded the fingers of his other hand with Buck’s, resting them on Buck’s stomach. “I’m done overlooking the pink elephant in the room.”

“Is that a veiled reference of your dislike for that shirt?” Buck quipped, squeezing Eddie’s hand reassuringly.

“That too.” Eddie played along, he really did hate that shirt, but Buck kept insisting it defined his muscles, which it did, but literally most of his size-down shirts already did that. “But also because coming home to the sight of you and Christopher every night, was pretty much wearing me down.”

Buck’s face broke into a smile that was a complicated mix of self-consciousness and contentedness, which Eddie found adorable, “So what broke you tonight?” Buck asked, bringing Eddie out of his reverie “I mean, it was a pretty standard evening in the Diaz household.” He pointed out with a teasing smile.

“You made sure Christopher fell asleep in his own bed.” Eddie said, chin resting on the top of Buck’s head gently.

“Well, It felt like some normalcy was needed.” Buck replied, his voice soft. “Both of us injured and out of commission in the short span of five months seemed to be taking a toll.”

“And the fact that you’re the one who managed to find a way to stir him back into the right direction is what broke me, I guess.” Eddie admired quietly, “That, and the cute picture you two presented when I got into the room.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to Buck’s temple who was blushing endearingly.

The moment was broken by an exhausted yawn from Buck, “Sorry, been a long day, and you’re too comfortable.” he accused jokingly.

“Bed?” Eddie suggested.

“You sure?” Buck asked, it’s not like they haven’t shared a bed before but this was semi-new territory. “I've already bonded with the couch, I’m good sleeping out here until we figure this out.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Bed.” he determined with a growl.

Buck chuckled amusedly as he rose carefully to his feet along with Eddie, “Caveman.” he teased.

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, “brat.” he retorted, pecking Buck’s lips before taking his hand and leading him to the master-bedroom.

***

That's it :) I hope you like it!! 💖💖

ps. That book Buck is reading to Christopher is a story my dad used to read to me and my sisters when we were youngers, we all know it by heart, to this very day. 🤗💕

#buddie prompt #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christoper diaz #is a national treasure #short fluff #buddie #9 1 1 on fox #buddie fandom #buddie fanfiction #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #eddie and buck #9-1-1

[galaxysgal]

More Than Anything Else || Maxwell Lord

Pairing: Maxwell Lord × fem!reader

Summary: He thought for a moment, still tugging the comb through his hair. You stepped over to him, kissing his shoulder and guiding him to sit down on the closed toilet lid. You brought the comb up to his hair, gently freeing it from the gel. He groaned softly, "After Anna I told myself I'd never get married again. But Alastair adores you, and I… I am in love with you, my dove. I see myself with you for the foreseeable future." He leaned his head back against your chest, eyes fluttering closed. "Marriage is nothing but a formality. You want to get married?"

Warnings: Descriptions of thunder/thunderstorm. Extreme fluff. Unedited, so typos probably.

A/N: I just wanted a cute lil fic of Reader and Alastair bonding, and then my writing demon grabbed my soul and decided to throw in some ✨marriage proposal✨ and ✨blended family✨ elements. Let me know if y'all want a part two to this bc I think that could be fun!! also y'all this is the third fic I've posted in the past right days wtf

Wordcount: 1.9k 🥰 I'm so proud of myself

shamelessly tagging @mandoalorian bc her max fics inspired me to finish this (hii 👋 ik we've literally never talked so sorry if it's weird to tag you)

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

A knock on the bathroom door pulled you out of your comfortable haze. Alastair's quiet voice called out to you, and you checked to make sure your bubble bath was covering you before you told him to come in. His eyes were teary and he clutched a stuffed elephant tight to his chest, sniffling quietly.

"Alastair, what's wrong," you asked, but a loud crack of thunder answered the question for you. He flinched, his grip on Mr. Topper- his elephant- tightening more than seemed possible. "Are you afraid of the storm?"

"It's loud."

You smiled softly, drying off one hand and reaching out to hold his. "How about you go sit on the bed. I'll get dried off and you and me can wait for your daddy to get home."

Alastair nodded, ducking back out of the bathroom. You pulled the plug from the drain and stood up, toweling off and pulling on the sweats and sleep shirt you had left out on the counter. Maxwell was off at some fancy gala tonight, you hadn't felt like going so you offered to stay home with Alastair so he wouldn't have to go with his mom. Max's ex wife wasn't the most… attentive mother in the world, and ever since she moved in with her newest boyfriend, she barely payed Alastair any attention at all. Max was currently fighting to gain sole custody over his son. You could see the toll this took on Alastair, and your heart broke for him. No child deserved to go through this. So when you and Max were with Alastair you did everything in your power to show him a normal, healthy family was like. 

You stepped out into the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend, worrying when the bed looked empty. "Alastair? Where are you?"

"Right here," a head of dark hair poked out from under the pile of blankets at the edge of the bed and you sighed.

You held out your hand to him, "alright buddy, come on let's go downstairs. You want a snack?" 

Alastair hopped down from the bed and took your hand. He squeezed it tight as you headed down the stairs, flipping on the lights in the kitchen. "Can we make pancakes? With strawberries?" he asked.

You gave Alastair a warm smile, picking him up and sitting him on one of the bar stools at the counter. "I don't know about strawberries, but I'll see what we have."

The storm continued to worsen as you pulled out flour, baking powder and all the other things you needed for pancakes. Over on the other side of the counter Alastair was covering his ears, the thunder growing louder. The storm must have been coming directly at you, the wind was intense and you felt the cracks of thunder deep in your bones.

"I've got an idea," you told Alastair. "Stay there, I'll be right back." You headed into the living room, searching until you found your walkman. You turned it on and checked to make sure it was working, fixing the volume so it was loud enough to drown out some of the thunder, but not so loud that it would hurt Alastair's ears. When you could hear Andante, Andante by ABBA more than you could hear the thunder, you brought it back into the kitchen.

"What's that for?" Alastair asked.

"For you," you replied. "The music will help make the storm quieter, then it won't be as scary. That sound good?" Alastair nodded and you placed the attached headphones over his head, adjusting them until they fit snugly.

You pressed play and Alastair grinned, "I like this song!" he exclaimed, loud enough to make you jump a little. The headphones were definitely doing their job. "You and daddy like to dance to this."

"Yeah, we do," you replied, but Alastair couldn't hear you. You smiled, leaning over to kiss his head before continuing to mix up the batter for the pancakes.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

"If you and daddy got married, would that make you my mommy?"

You were sitting on the couch, Alastair snuggled into your side. The worst of the storm had passed and you had just finished up your batch of midnight pancakes. The question caught you off guard, he was looking up at you with wide brown eyes- his father's eyes- and you weren't sure what to say. "Well… If your dad and I got married, that would make me your step-mom, yeah." You brushed your fingers through Alastair's hair, "why do you ask?"

"I wish you were my mommy," he replied with a yawn. At that moment the front door opened, revealing Max in his navy suit. "Daddy!" Alastair jumped up and ran to him.

"Alastair-" Max caught him, giving his son a tight hug. "What are you doing up? It is past your bedtime."

"Couldn't sleep, 'cause of the storm," you piped up, stepping over to Max and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "We made pancakes." Alastair nodded and yawned again, and you reached out to smooth his hair.

"I think that it's time to get you back to bed," Max said, noting how Alastair's eyes drooped. He turned to you, "can you grab Mr. Topper?"

You grabbed the stuffed elephant and followed Max upstairs. You adored how he was with his son. He had really changed, since everything that had gone down with the Dreamstone. Max had set his priorities straight, putting Alastair and you above his oil business.

You sat down on the foot of Alastair's bed, watching as Max tucked him in. It warmed your heart to see them together. You had been with Alastair in the moments just before Max renounced his wish, when the world was crashing around you and Alastair was staring at his father on the TV screen, watching the crazed look in his eyes. You had held Alastair close, letting him hide his face in your neck as you rocked him, trying to keep him calm through all that was going on. You clung to Alastair as you watched Max on the TV, tears streaming down your face, praying to whatever god would listen that Max- your Max- would come home to you.

And he did.

He returned to your home, stumbling through the door to try and find Alastair. He was disheveled, tired and frightened, but altogether not worse for the wear. His arms were around you the moment he let go of Alastair, pulling you tight to him and still holding his son against his hip.

"My dove," he had said, tears falling from his eyes as he held you. "I am so sorry, for the hurt I have caused you. For the hurt I have caused the world. For the pain that I have put on you and on Alastair. You didn't deserve this."

You had shushed him then, your own tears joining his as you pressed your forehead to his. You were grasping at whatever parts of him you could reach, his cheek, his neck, the back of his head, anything to tell yourself that this wasn't a dream. That this wasn't just a wish come true. That this was more, and this was real. "I forgive you, Max. I forgive you. And with time, so will the rest of the world."

You were pulled back into the present when Max stood up, and Alastair reached out for you. "Goodnight Alastair," you said with a smile, leaning down to give him a tight hug. "Sleep well."

Max got the light and gently shut his son's door, pulling you to his side and kissing your temple. It was late and you were tired, so you were grateful to be able to lean on him until you made it back to the bedroom. You watched as Max stripped off his suit jacket, loosened his tie and undid the top buttons of his pristine white button up. His gelled back hair was beginning to fall at the edges, while the top remained stiff as a board. It made you smile, seeing his put-together look begin to fall a little. The bottle-blind of his hair was beginning to grow out, and you had convinced Max not to dye it again. You reveled in the brunet peeking out at his roots, longing for the day when the gold was all gone and he had returned to his natural self, the last traces of the harsh, power hungry man you'd all like to forget dead and gone, once and for all. 

"Alastair asked me something tonight," you said as Max moved into the bathroom.

"Oh? And what did he ask?"

You wrung your hands behind your back, leaning on the doorframe. "He asked if you and I got married, if that would make me his mom."

"Marriage…" Max mused, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "Is that something you'd want?"

"I have to admit it does sound nice, being your wife," you replied. "But I know you went through a lot with Anna. Is marriage something that you'd want, Max?"

A soft smile found its way onto your lips and you leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Is this a proposal?"

He thought for a moment, still tugging the comb through his hair. You stepped over to him, kissing his shoulder and guiding him to sit down on the closed toilet lid. You brought the comb up to his hair, gently freeing it from the gel. He groaned softly, "After Anna I told myself I'd never get married again. But Alastair adores you, and I… I am in love with you, my dove. I see myself with you for the foreseeable future." He leaned his head back against your chest, eyes fluttering closed. "Marriage is nothing but a formality. You want to get married?" he chuckled.

"It depends," Max turned around to face you, his hands coming to rest on your hips, "are you saying yes?" He looked up at you almost shyly, and you brushed pieces of his golden hair back from his forehead.

"Maybe," you teased, but it didn't matter anyway.

"It's not a proposal. At least, it isn't yet." He stood, taking your face in his hands. "I want everything to be perfect, like a fairytale-"

"Max it doesn't-" you started to protest, but his lips on yours silenced you. He kissed you with gentle lips, caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"I want it to be perfect for you. You deserve everything and more, my love."

You smiled, knowing that this was just how Max was. He was eager to prove himself worthy, although he had nothing to prove to you. You were already captivated by him. Here was no fighting it, you were his. You leaned in to peck his lips, "I'm sure it'll be perfect, Max. Anything you do, it's already perfect to me because it's you."

His gaze rested on you for a moment longer, deep brown eyes soft and full of love. "Come on," he said, "let's get to bed."

The room was silent except the sound of the two of you shuffling about, you pulling back the covers and Max changing into his pajamas. You were nearly asleep when he joined you, the bed dipping slightly as he climbed in. You tucked yourself into his side, the warmth of his arms lulling you to sleep.

The last thing you heard before you dozed off was Max's voice, quiet as a mouse. "I do intend to marry you, my dove, because I love you more than anything else."

End.

Permanent Taglist: @thelazyhero-ttums @tinyphantomsalad @djarinsidebitch @poe-djarin @poestardust

Pedro Characters Taglist: @blackmarketmummy @agentshortstacc @coldlilheart @patriotseli @greeneyedblondie44

#maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x y/n #maxwell lord fanfic #maxwell lord fluff #:))) #ww84 #pedro pascal characters #mags writes

[thinking1bee]

When it Reigns Part 5

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Kara Danvers x Reader

Tags: Angst, Kryptonian!Reader, Parent!Reader, Parent!Kara, Estranged Parent, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Humor, Bad Dreams, Memory Loss

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover

It took some more investigative journalism, but you and Kara found out that it was Edge who was behind poisoning the kids. He orchestrated the plan to have chemicals dumped into the pool, and then to frame Lena further by dumping the same chemicals into National City’s water supply. Luckily with some saving from Supergirl, Edge was thrown behind bars and a cure was made for the families afflicted. You sighed for a day well done and you were in the process of saying good night to Angel.

“Will Luke be okay?” she asked you and you smiled.

“Yes. He should be getting better as we speak.”

You leaned down and kissed her forehead when Angel froze.

“Hey what’s wrong?”

She blinked. “You have a hole in your shirt.”

You looked down to see what she was talking about. Sure enough, there was a tear in the fabric of your blouse, and you held it in confusion, wondering how it got there.

“Oh, weird,” you said, shrugging it off. “Sweet dreams, okay?”

Angel nodded before she closed her eyes and you left quietly, smiling fondly as your daughter drifted off to sleep. As you walked down the hall, you felt at the tear in your shirt, and as you kept playing with it, something cold and metallic fell from the torn threads and landed on the floor with a sharp clang. You paused, bending over to pick up the object, and when you inspected it, you saw that it was a bullet.

You were…shot.

And you didn’t feel it.

Your hands went to your stomach, feeling around for anything unusual. You even lifted your shirt to see if there was anything wrong. There was nothing. Just the expanse of smooth and unharmed flesh. You swallowed hard as you looked up, seeing nothing but the emptiness of the hallway in front of you. You couldn’t ignore any of this anymore. You needed answers, so you went into your room and packed a small travel bag. You’d be gone for a day tops and hopefully, you would find what you needed. As you packed, you dialed for Kara, and she answered in the first ring.

“Y/n is everything okay?” she asked, and you smiled. Your darling wife, ever the worrier.

“I’m fine babe,” you replied with the smile playing at your lips. “I was wondering if you would be okay with watching Angel. I need to take a trip.”

You could practically hear Kara fix her glasses while shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Is everything okay?” she asked again.

“I think so. I just need to pay a visit to my mother.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

The question was justified. The relationship between you and your adopted parental figure was less than stable. You’d soon go to hell voluntarily before stepping foot in her house again, but this was important. Something was going on with you and you needed answers. You had to start somewhere.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Kara accepted your promise, trusting that you would be fine like you said. “Okay, just come back soon.”

You smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” you replied, and you disconnected the call.

***

Kara nibbled her lips, staring at the screen when you disconnected the call. She couldn’t help but think that something wears wrong and that you wanted her to think that everything was okay. Whatever it was, she knew that she would have to wrap this up soon. Angel was already home, and judging by the clock on Kara’s phone, was also in bed.

“…Kara?”

Kara looked up to see everyone in the DEO staring at her and she hastily put her phone back in her pocket.

“Sorry.”

“Is everything okay?” Alex asked and Kara shrugged. That was all she could do.

She was so worried about you. Ever since Angel told her about your selective memory loss, she had been so preoccupied with you that it was evoking distracting. She knew she should have followed up with that. She trusted you, as she did, but something was telling her to dive deeper into it and she ignored it. What could be going on that you felt the need to reach out to a woman that you had spoken to in years? Was everything that bad? And what about when Angel got hurt. Angel told her that it was a city light pole that fell on top of her, but she had been less than forthcoming with the details as to how she got free from under it. Things weren’t making any sense.

“Kara?”

Kara blinked and focused on everyone again. Alex had asked her a question and she went on a mental spiral.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, but everyone looked at each other with skepticism. If Kara was truly okay, she wasn’t very convincing about it.

“Are you sure?” Alex asked, mirroring Kara’s early question to you. She nodded.

“Yes. Let’s focus on what caused the earthquake.”

Alex gave her once last look, her eyes searching. Kara nodded, her eyes focused on hers, knowing that she would know what it meant. We’ll talk later. Alex nodded before turning her attention back to the giant screens in front of her.

“Go ahead, Winn.”

Winn typed on his tablet before he dragged his finger across the screen, his wrist flicking, before what was on his tablet appeared on screens for everyone to see. On them was a map, with a single dot highlighted on a specific location. From the dot came virtual shockwaves that pulsed from the single location and spread outwards.

“I was able to pinpoint the exact location of the earthquake,” he explained. “But theres nothing out there.”

Beside him, J’onn nodded and crossed his arms. “I flew from the center and covered the entire area of coverage. There’s nothing there except cracked earth and debris.”

“So, if there’s nothing there, where did the earthquake come from?” Kara asked.

“That’s the mystery,” Winn said as he turned his attention back to the pulsating dot on the screen. Kara watched as the shockwaves emanated from the point over and over, the feeling of foreboding sending a chill down her spine.

***

You pulled up to your mother’s house and put the car in park. She still lived all the way out in Metropolis and was still in the same house and everything. It was like nothing changed. Well almost nothing. She may have stayed the same, but you changed entirely. No matter what happened, you promised to keep your cool. There was a reason why you never so much as sent her a Christmas card. So, you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders, before getting out of the car and knocking on the door. It took a bit of knocking but she finally answered, and she looked at you like she had seen a ghost.

“Y/n?”

“Hello, Elizabeth,” you greeted. “May I come in?”

After some small talk and a glass of water that you still hadn’t drank from, it was finally time to address the elephant in the room. Though if it were up to you, the elephant wouldn’t need to be pointed out anyway. Just acknowledge it and move on.

“I haven’t seen you since…” Elizabeth swallowed thickly, a nervous chuckle escaping her. “Well, you know.

“I couldn’t imagine why you’d expect me to keep in touch after you kicked me out.”

“I did that to teach you a lesson!”

She still believed that? Even after all these years?

“That’s odd because that wasn’t what it felt like.”

She looked away from you, her eyebrows furrowed in hurt, and you had to resist the urge to scoff. Her little act wasn’t going to work on you. You decided that you had enough with strolling down memory lane.

“Do you know where I can find my birth parents?” you asked. At that, her head snapped up and she met your eyes.

“Why?”

“That doesn’t matter. Do you know or not?”

She didn’t answer, she only stared at you, and you could feel your irritation grow. You never asked her of anything, not since she kicked you out, and now that you were asking about your real parents, after all these years, now she wanted to give you a hard time???

“I’m sorry,” was all she said. You smirked and she looked at you.

“You have got to be kidding me. Then at least tell me which adoption agency you adopted me from.”

Elizabeth shook her head, and you actually snapped your fingers, pointing at her as your irritation morphed into rage.

“I’ve never asked you for anything once you threw me out, and this is how you want to play this?!”

“That was to teach you a lesson,” she repeated, like the explanation would make everything okay.

“That what?” you demanded. “That it was never okay for me to like who I liked?”

“You know that I didn’t approve of your homosexual escapades.”

“Oh yeah, and then I dated a guy to make you happy. Good thing for me that he knocked me up and left the moment he found out I was pregnant. I was 19! I needed someone there for me! I needed my mom!”

“Y-you were pregnant?” she whispered, horrified that she hadn’t known until now.

“Yes! And you would have known that if you had just listened to me!”

Elizabeth had thrown you to the side after finding out that you had sex with him. She wanted a good Christian daughter, one that followed every rule in the Bible. That wasn’t you, and no matter how much she tried to force you to learn, or how much she forced you to go to church, it would never be you. Even now. You were happily married and trying your damnedest with your daughter. The relationship with her sperm donor may have been a huge mistake, but Angel never will be that. She was so much more. She was the reason you never gave up, and the woman that was in front of you, was the reason why you never learned to be a good mom. You spent your whole life being what she wanted for her sake.

“Did you keep it?” Elizabeth whispered.

“Her name is Angel,” you said sternly, and you had the satisfaction of watching her flinch. “And I guess by technicality you do have a granddaughter.”

“How is she?”

You stared at her, really stared at her, incredulous that she thought that she had the right to ask about Angel.

“If you think that I would let you, with your religious, Bible thumping poison and rhetoric around her, then I must be on crack.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sorry.”

It was way too late for sorry. That wouldn’t work on you either.

“Do you know anything about my birth parents or the adoption agency that you got me from?” you asked again.

“Why do you want to know so bad?”

You had to stop yourself from screaming in from frustration. Instead, you took a deep breath and looked down.

“Things have been happening to me, Elizabeth,” you started as you looked at her intensely. I keep blacking out to do only God knows what and then I have no recollection of going anywhere or saying anything. Earlier this week, a pole fell on my daughter, and I lifted it clear above my head and threw it away as though it weighed nothing. Yesterday I was at a press conference when someone open fired into the crowd. I was shot, Elizabeth, and I didn’t feel anything. I pulled the crushed bullet from my clothes but there were no marks, no cuts, no anything. The past few weeks have been weird, and I swallowed the anger I have with you to ask you for your help. Now if you know anything, now would be the time to tell me.”

Elizabeth looked at you and was quiet. It seemed like she wasn’t going to say anything until she nodded her head, deciding something internally, before she looked at you.

“Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Part 6

#supergirl fanfic #kara danvers x reader #reader insert #kryptonian!reader #angst #injuries #blood #humor #bad dreams #memory loss #estranged parent #parents

[crimsonrae]

Cigarettes & Morning Breath

Summary: Syverson, finally home, has a rough night that leads into a productive morning.

Captain Syverson X OFC

Warning: Kitchen Sex, Breeding.

Rated NC-17.

A/N: I think that I’m just too pent up, but I hope you all enjoy! Continue with Fussin' with the Facts.

Tagged: @henry-cavill-obsessed​ @xxxkatxo​ @omgkatinka​ @clarreee​ @ginger-tiger @viking-raider​ @tinabean37​ @graceful-leah​ @worshipping-skarsgard​ @sweetdreamsofgelato​ @michellemybelles-world @werewolfonastolenbike @bichibibi @singeramg​ @a-wxnderless-mind​ @chamomilebottom @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @cavillhavoc​ ​ @promptandpros​ @multixwolf​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @vikingsbifrost​ @marswritings​ @imneonpanda​ @tumblnewby @henryfanfics101​ @lebguardians​ @agniavateira

Cigarettes & Morning Breath

He woke with the blasts of gunfire still ringing in his ears. It took a moment for Sy to remember where he was, his hand had already been reaching for the knife that he kept under his pillow...used to keep under his pillow. It was only as his dark gaze registered the person lying next to him that he recalled he was home.

Home.

He was home.

He drew a shaky hand over his face, glad that he hadn’t woken her. Some nights he screamed and thrashed, only to find that he had left bruises when he came back to reality. She never blamed him, never got angry over it or even scared. Syverson wished she would. Wished she would scream at him or even leave. Anything was better than the quiet worry that shined at him as she soothed him.

How pathetic was he?

His gaze traced her peaceful face. Her mouth was open slightly, a thin trail of drool pooling onto the pillow. He smirked at the adorable picture she made, but resisted the urge to touch her. He had ruined too many nights of sleep as it was, but he knew he wouldn’t be visiting the Sandman’s realm again. Gingerly, he eased himself out of bed, shushing her as she stirred and silently crept to the kitchen.

He got the coffee brewing and reached into the cabinet above the fridge. He had hidden a pack of cigarettes up there. A habit he had been trying to break since he had gotten back. He was more successful than not on a good day. This wasn’t a good day. He needed one. He needed something to calm the nervous energy stinging his veins that was telling him to run, to defend.    

He popped the nicotine roll behind his ear as he waited for the coffee to finish percolating. He’d smoke it outside with a cup. He didn’t want her smelling it.

Not that he had a chance to smoke it as a few seconds later a hard flick to his ear had him jerking around, “Ow, fuck! Baby!”

Her nimble fingers had snatched his cigarette and tossed it in the trash as he rubbed at his assaulted appendage. She turned to look at him in groggy grumpiness and he had to bite back another smirk. His girl was not a morning person...at all.  

He wasn’t surprised when she fell against his chest, half asleep, “Didn’t mean to wake you, darlin’. Go back to bed.”  

She grunted and looped her arms around his waist and fuck if it didn’t feel good to have her pressed against him. He relaxed a little and played with the ends of her hair until he heard a quietly murmured, “Dreams again?”

“Hmm.” He grumbled, not interested in talking about his night terrors. His fingers itched for that cigarette.

The box was knocked from his hand before he even registered that he had reached for it. He raised an annoyed brow as he turned to see her glaring sternly at him, “Really?”

“No more smoking, Jay.” She growled at him, “Rather have your morning breath than that tobacco taste.”  

Sy snorted in disbelief, “Is this the morning breath before or after a Listerine rinse?”

He dodged her swat and reached around her to pour a cup of coffee. He was only allowed a sip before she took it and pressed her lips against his. She was insistent and he had never been one to refuse her.  

His strong fingers looped under the back of her curvy thighs and hefted her up as he took control of their kiss. She would damn well take what he was willing to give. He nibbled on the supple swell of her lip until her mouth parted to grant him entrance. Morning breath was smothered by strong coffee and a distinct lack of giving a fuck as they tasted each other.  

Sy channeled all his nervous energy into that kiss. And was rewarded with breathy whimpers and searching fingers that delved beneath the hem of his boxers. He slipped her onto the counter as her little touches turned bold and she stroked him with all the talent of a high-priced hooker.  

Fuck.  

Arousal burned his veins and he pulled back enough to see it flaming up in her as well.

Growling lowly, he smacked her hands away and yanked her underwear down her legs. He could practically smell her. He didn’t have the patience to be gentle in that moment. He pulled her legs apart and freed himself in one move before thrusting sharply into her. She yelped at the sharp intrusion, but he was lost to her scalding heat as her slick tight muscles engulfed him.

He could live inside her. 

She squirmed – needing friction when he didn’t move right away. He bit warningly at her neck, but gripped her hips hard and slammed her down onto his cock over and over. 

She clawed at his shoulders and whimpered at every pounding hump, but her body was made for him. She took everything and threw it back at him as she grinded and clenched around him.  

He hammered into her until he heard the squelching of her slickness slapping against his hips as they joined over and over. Then and only then did he search out her swollen little nub.

Her head flung back as he pinched and played with her little clit. It didn’t take much before she erupted so beautifully on him. Her hoarse scream a symphony for his ears. He groaned as her muscles clamped down on him so snuggly, he wasn’t sure he would be able to leave her. It was so damn good. 

He pumped into her a few more times before her little cavern became too much and he spilled his hot milky seed into her womb.

Ragged breathing filled the kitchen and he rested his head against hers as he managed to choke out, “Doesn’t count as morning breath. Had that bit of coffee.”

She huffed a faint laugh and nipped at his chin, “Shut up, you idiot.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured, unwilling to move away from her just yet.  

She stayed like that pressed against him, on him until her fingers began to press urgently at his chest. He heard her whispered, “Fuck.”

Worry shot through his bliss as he eyed her, “What? What is it? Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head exasperated, “We didn’t use a condom and I only finished those antibiotics yesterday. I haven’t gone back on my birth control. Let me up.”

He stilled as the implications settled in his mind. His hand smoothed over her stomach with unconscious tenderness. A baby... they could have made a baby. He pictured her swollen with his child and felt a fierce flash of pride, but also contentment. He wanted that...

His sapphire eyes met her slightly panicked ones and smirked, “No.”

Her panic turned to disbelief, “No? You want a baby?”

“Yeah.” He said quietly, shyly, “Yeah, I do.”

She arched a brow at him, “You want me fat with mood swings, cravings, and cankles?”  

“What the fuck are cankles?” He asked thrown by that last item, but still unmoving.

She smiled charmed by his cluelessness, “Does it really matter?”

Sy shrugged and lightly snapped his hips against hers. She gasped and realized that he was still very much aroused. He continued his shallow thrusts, building her desire back up as he said, “You could wear a damn burlap bag and I still find you attractive, darlin’. But I’ll say right now, you’re not allowed to call yourself fat when you’re carrying my little one. I won’t put up with it and junior will feel his first tanning via his mama should I hear that word leave your lips.”  

“What about chunky?” She asked provokingly as she clenched around him.

Sy groaned, “Nope.”

“Heavy?”

“No.”

“Gross? Whalelike? Elephant?”

“No. No. And no.” He punctuated each no with a hard thrust, “Not allowed.”

She mewled before asking, “And after? We’ll have more sleeplessness nights. A screaming baby and diapers to change.”

Sy grinned at the thought, but couldn’t say he minded any of those things. He slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt, “I think we’ll survive.”

“I think so too.” She whispered and he felt something relax inside him. He knew that was her acquiescence to his desire.

He pressed a bruising kiss to her lips, “Then stop your yapping, woman. I have work to do.”

She snorted with laughter as he picked her up and carried her back to their bedroom. The coffee left on, forgotten.

#sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #sand castle fanfiction #henry cavill #captain syverson x ofc #fanfiction #fanifc

[scientia-rex]

Reporting back on this whole "how is life as a new attending" thing: well, the good news is I have money and a lot more time. The bad news is I'm still me.

So we're buying a house--it's taking forever but it's also a really great house that's not like a mansion-mansion but is light-years beyond what anyone else I know my age who isn't a doctor or the child of rich people can afford--and I'm really, really excited about it. But I'm also still depressed, on an SNRI for it, getting godawful night sweats because of the SNRI for it, and prone to severe acid reflux and chronic nausea. Also, there's a random spot in my right lower quadrant that occasionally hurts like hell for no apparent reason and deep down I'm terrified that it's my appendix thinking about getting real infected and rupturing, or an ovarian cyst that starts to torse and then de-torse, or an endometriosis explant that's going to finally burrow all the way into my intestines one of these days and give me, I dunno, sepsis or a hemorrhage or something. Any one of those could spontaneously become a life-threatening surgical emergency with no warning. So yes, I still have anxiety.

I have started to resume something resembling a normal human sleep schedule. I only took a week (technically just under a week) off after graduating from residency. I'd already passed the boards so as soon as residency was officially over and my program director submitted the final things I was board-certified. Which is fucking bananas! I'm still me! I'm still just a weird chump with frizzy hair, two to three chins at any given time and slowly developing jowls, a mustache and over the last couple of years a beard I savagely beat into submission with my favorite tweezers every fucking day, the short-term memory of a goldfish, zero ability to remember anyone's face or name but a near-godlike recall for bit-part actors in television shows based on just a few seconds of hearing their voice, a long-term obsession with Sherlock Holmes since the 4th grade back in the early 90s long before Moffat put his greasy mitts all over them, and some weird kinks I literally never talk about because I don't want to. I am such a peculiar, obsessive, hoarding, strident freak! And now I'm a board-certified physician. Jesus Christ. The only thing worse than knowing that I'm a doctor is knowing that my classmates are doctors. Not the ones from residency, they're all cool, but the ones from my actual medical school. You know! The ones who accidentally boned the same woman on an away rotation they did sequentially and then made homophobic jokes about sloppy seconds! Those ones! The ones who wore shirts with boner jokes on them to class while being devout Mormons who thought women belonged in the kitchen! The one who said awful things about Tamir Rice and then said he couldn't be racist because his nephew was black! THOSE ASSHOLES! THEY'RE PROBABLY ALSO DOCTORS NOW! I don't know for sure because I'm not friends with any of them on Facebook because they're horrible assholes and I called them all homophobic and racist and sexist to their fucking faces, but DON'T TRUST DOCTORS UNTIL OR UNLESS THEY SHOW YOU A REASON TO.

Anyway, I've been finding some solace in obsessively looking at different things I might get for our house. We're closing soon, thank God, but the current owners wanted to stay until the end of August because they're building a new house and it won't be done until then (and do I believe it will actually be done then? No.) and we wanted to be very attractive buyers in this godforsaken housing market where you have to bring an elephant's weight in gold and several wine bottles of your own blood to even get a chance, so we said sure, so we're still a month and a half from moving in. UGH. It's worth it, but it's giving me all the anxiety. I feel paralyzed, because I can't do shit about most of the planning and decorating until I'm actually in the space. And somehow I can't do any of my other hobbies, either. I can't write. I can't bake. I've been getting stoned more often than usual, but I did that on Friday night and frankly it just annoyed me because I didn't enjoy losing the ability to string my thoughts together. Sometimes I'm really in the mood to get stoned and it feels lovely and freeing, and sometimes it's just an annoying hindrance.

And I can't drink because my acid reflux is so bad right now. I doubled up on the omeprazole, which I never tell patients to do, and it did help some, but I'm still always one acidic beverage away from feeling like I'm going to die. I threw up a couple of months ago and I honestly think it was from just having too much acid in my stomach for my body to cope with. So naturally I'm worried I've got one of those crazy tumors, starts with a Z, Zollingers? that tells your stomach to make acid. Do I? Almost certainly not! Will that stop me from worrying about it? Boy howdy, no!

However, I have had some really nice moments. Last week I had a patient who had a history of migratory polyarthralgias. He'd never been definitively diagnosed, though he'd been tentatively diagnosed with gout based on presentation and placed on allopurinol. He was sitting in my office with a huge, swollen, painful knee, and I thought, well fuck it he needs a knee aspiration. Have I done one of those before? No! But I've put enough corticosteroids and hyaluronic acid into knees that I figured I had a good shot at getting something out, and it wasn't pretty but I did it. I got a good sample of knee juice all by myself. It felt great. For me. The patient was in a substantial amount of pain. However, it did give us a definitive diagnosis--birefringent monodium urate crystals! That's gout, baby! Sure, it presented a little weird, but because I stuck a big-ass needle into his knee now we know for sure and I wrote him for colchicine, which somehow no one else had???? despite the diagnosis of gout on his chart???????

I haven't really felt completely at sea much at all these first couple weeks of being an attending. I have an MA who is a sweet ray of sunshine and she is very determined to do a good job, and we get along well. I'm slowly settling in. I feel more and more like a real doctor and less like some crazed impostor wearing a doctor suit every day.

There's bad stuff, plenty of it, but overall I'm feeling pretty lucky. Mostly. Except for how today I had a bunch of caffeine and dairy, so my stomach is telling me that this was a Mistake. But! In counterpoint, the Baskin-Robbins Flavor of the Month was really delicious, and I regret very little. Not nothing, but very little.

#signed sincerely doctor rex

[ultimatetrashyfanfic]

I’m just gonna say Non-despair AU cause I want everyone to be happy. I freaking LOVE Gundham so much, he’s wonderful and I’ve been wanting to write him for a while (but stalling cause of his DIALOGUE. It’s so hard). Buuuut I decided to finally give it a shot. And to kind of vent a little cause he used to stress me out in his dark coat and scarf in tropical heat. With Kazuichi because I want them to be friends, and because I seem physically incapable of not putting Kazuichi in every fic. COULD be seen as pre-soudam if you prefer, I didn’t write it like that but it could be if that floats your boat. I do like that ship, I just like other ones with Gundham and kazuichi more. Anyway, hope you enjoy - Circle

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33543364

Warning: descriptions of overheating, sickfic. Nothing really bad here.

Kazuichi wasn’t shocked to wake up sprawled across a towel with sand in his hair and a dry mouth, completely alone on the beach. This wasn’t even the first time it had happened. When his insomnia was really bad he’d always doze throughout the next day - for some reason he couldn’t sleep in his warm, comfortable bed at night but could drop off in seconds with his head on the breakfast table or against Hajime’s shoulder. His classmates never bothered to wake Kazuichi if he was somewhere he wouldn’t be in the way, so the beach was a frequent napping spot. They always made sure to leave him in the shade with a water bottle for when he woke, so Kazuichi didn’t mind. It was normal.

What was very much not normal was waking up to Gundham grasping the front of his t-shirt, shaking him violently and yelling some weird gibberish that Kazuichi was still too woolly-headed to understand.

“Wha..?” he muttered, trying to wake up properly. For a second he wondered if he was having a weird lucid dream, because Gundham never usually touched people, especially him - though he was shaking him by the shirt instead of the shoulders.

“You’re gonna stretch out my clothes,” Kazuichi whined, sitting up and scrubbing his eyes.

“As if your tattered garments are a priority right now! Answer me with honesty, lest the demons tear your tongue from your very mouth. Have you encountered the wrath of my Crimson Steel Elephant?” Gundham cried, far too loudly.

“What?” Kazuichi mumbled. “Gundham, I can’t decipher your witchy language when I’ve just woken up.”

“Foolish mortal! This is a dire emergency!”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“I shall repeat myself just once more, so listen well. Have you encountered one of my Dark Devas of Destruction? Maga-Z appears to be missing,” Gundham said. Despite the grandeur and fancy words, Kazuichi could see he did look pretty distressed, holding the three remaining hamsters in his hand as if he was scared they’d dash away too.

“Oooh, okay. You’ve lost a hamster. That’s all you had to say, Gundham. One single sentence and I would’ve understood,” Kazuichi said.

“Do not talk so disparagingly! My Devas are far more powerful than mere hamsters. And Maga-Z has an independent spirit and often attempts to cause chaos alone. I have my concerns for the safety of everyone on this island if Maga-Z wields his destructive power without my guidance.”

Gundham was completely serious, but Kazuichi had to bite his cheeks to stop himself laughing, picturing a hamster storming across the island in a tank, decimating everything. But Gundham was clearly frantic, and Kazuichi was trying to be nicer to him recently, so he sighed.

“Okay, I’ll help you look for him. We should try to get the others to help too.”

“Indeed. You were the first mortal I came across,” Gundham admitted.

“Right, what does Maga-Z look like?” Kazuichi asked, taking a long drink of water. He felt like he’d be running around in the hot sun for a while now and wanted to drink while he had the chance.

“Your memory is abysmal.” Gundham seemed irritated that Kazuichi didn’t know the hamsters by sight.

“Look, I’m not exactly on nodding terms with your ham- Devas, am I? How am I supposed to know which is which? I only recognise the chubby one.” Kazuichi pointed to Cham-P.

Gundham reeled back like he’d been slapped, spluttering in outrage. “How dare you mock his corporeal form! If Cham-P was not so patient, he would obliterate you where you stand for such cheek.”

“Look, I wasn’t trying to body shame your hamster,” Kazuichi said irritably. “I wasn’t mocking. He’s just bigger than the other ones.”

“He is of the Golden variety, of course he is larger in stature. It has nothing to do with his nutritional intake.”

“Are we going to search or not?” Kazuichi snapped. God, talking to Gundham for more than five minutes was exhausting. “Do you know if Maga-Z has favourite places to go or something?”

Kazuichi let Gundham lead and did his very best not to talk to his strange companion as they searched through bushes and inside cupboards, asking any of his classmates they encountered to look too. Gundham muttered to the remaining hamsters, but didn’t try to talk to Kazuichi much either except to order him around - though his grandiose tone was quickly becoming softer and more anxious.

“Maga-Z has never disappeared from my influence for so long,” he mumbled, pulling his scarf to cover his mouth. “I cannot contain this feeling of dread.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Kazuichi said, surprising himself. “We’ll find him. He’ll be okay.”

Gundham blinked, then stood up straighter. “I assure you, I fear for the inhabitants of the island. Maga-Z will come to no harm.”

But he was worrying, and even Kazuichi could see it. His searching was becoming frantic, his usually careful hands clumsy, so he knocked things off their shelves and forgot to tidy up or close doors behind them. He started running between buildings and bushes, long coat billowing, calling out for his lost hamster.

“Gundham! Hang on a second,” Kazuichi gasped. “I can’t breathe!”

Surprisingly, Gundham did as he was told, leaning against a palm tree in the shade. He wrapped his arms around his chest, pale fists gripping his dark coat. His carefully styled hair was starting to droop in the heat, and his face was very pink. Kazuichi had never seen so much colour in his cheeks before. The three remaining hamsters cowered inside Gundham’s scarf, sensing his anxiety.

Kazuichi went to lean beside him, wiping the sweat off his own forehead. He didn’t know how Gundham managed in his black clothes every day.

“We’ll find him,” Kazuichi said again. “Ibuki and Twogami and Mahiru said they’d look. And Miss Sonia looked like she was going to cry when I told her Maga-Z was missing. She said she wouldn’t rest until he was found.”

“She has a good heart,” Gundham said softly.

“Yeah…” Kazuichi paused. “Hey, you didn’t say anything nice like that about me. I’m the one who’s been running around with you in the baking sun for hours.”

Gundham didn’t respond. He’d been talking a lot less in the past twenty minutes or so, though he’d originally been giving incomprehensible orders to Kazuichi every two minutes. Souda assumed he was just growing more concerned for Maga-Z the longer he was missing - so he was caught off guard when Gundham slumped over and fell limply against him, almost bringing them both to the floor.

“Dude!” Kazuichi managed to catch hold of Gundham. “What are you doing?”

Perhaps Gundham didn’t know what he was doing either, because he had a look of sheer bafflement on his face. He tried to pull himself upright, clinging to the rough bark of the palm tree, but each time he wobbled dangerously and Kazuichi had to grab onto him again.

“What is this..? I appear to be reacting negatively to your mortal world’s atmosphere.” His usually forceful speech came out laboured and slow, and Gundham placed a hand to his lips in surprise.

“What? You’ve been surviving in this atmosphere for ages already,” Kazuichi argued. “What’s up with you? You sound drunk. Can you tell me in plain English?”

“The temperature in this godforsaken land exceeds even the fiery bowels of hell,” Gundham hissed, having to cling to Kazuichi to stay upright.

Kazuichi took a second to disentangle Gundham’s web of fancy words. “Sooo… you’re too hot. I guess that makes sense. Who wears a black coat and a scarf in this heat? And I know you haven’t had any water since we started searching. I’d better take you back to your cabin,” he sighed.

“Unhand me this instant, you fiend!” Gundham growled, though he was the one using Kazuichi like a walking stick. “I could never rest while one of my Dark Devas of Destruction is unguided.”

“Well they’ll all be unguided if you get heatstroke and drop dead,” Kazuichi said. “Half the island is searching for Maga-Z - and I’ll go back out to keep looking as soon as I can, okay?” As much as Gundham might get on Kazuichi’s nerves sometimes, he didn’t want him to get really sick or hurt. He hoped Maga-Z had enough sense not to wander into the sea or something; Gundham would be crushed.

“Hmm.” Gundham didn’t look convinced.

“Your other three ham- I mean Devas probably need to cool down a bit too,” Kazuichi tried.

Another pause. “Very well,” Gundham sighed. “I shall retire to my artificially cooled domain until the effects of this oppressive atmosphere wear off. I trust you to ensure the search continues.” He turned on his heel and tried to walk on his own, staggering alarmingly.

“Hey, careful!” Kazuichi ran to steady him. “I told you I’d help you.”

Gundham slapped his hands away. “Fool! Have you forgotten I am cursed with poison?”

“Oh for God’s sake! Could you just give an inch for once! Why do you make everything so difficult?” Kazuichi cried exasperatedly.

Gundham stuck his chin in the air and started berating Souda again - but before he’d even finished the first sentence his words died away. He blinked several times, looking dazed, swaying where he stood.

“Gundham..?” Kazuichi said nervously.

Gundham didn’t respond. He took another few staggering steps towards his cabin, then crumpled as his knees gave way under him. Kazuichi cried out and hurried to catch him, their foreheads bashing together painfully. Gundham’s skin was clammy and damp, his face looking much more… alive than usual. Kazuichi realised it was because his pale makeup was running.

“Fucking hell, Gundham,” Kazuichi groaned, hauling one of Gundham’s arms around his shoulders. “Just hold onto me, okay? Try not to pass out.”

Surprisingly, Gundham nodded, staring down at his feet like it was taking a huge effort to make them move. It was clear he was trying to be helpful, but Kazuichi had to carry a lot of his weight and they were both breathless by the time they reached Gundham’s cabin. Kazuichi breathed a sigh of relief as the wall of cool air conditioning washed over them.

“Thank God for that,” he mumbled, dumping Gundham onto the bed. It was carefully made, which Kazuichi had never understood; why bother making your bed when you were just going to mess it up every night? The entire room was neat, though the giant cage meant it rather smelled like hamsters. “Right, get your coat and scarf off.”

Gundham glared at him viciously.

“Oh, that’s the thanks I get, is it? Well, no matter how annoying you might be, you’re overheated. No wonder, wearing that stupid dark coat. So get it off.” Kazuichi grabbed Gundham’s arms and yanked the coat sleeves off like he was undressing a sulky toddler. Gundham hissed a series of furious curses at him - one of which sounded like Latin, which was actually pretty impressive - and the three remaining hamsters hopped out onto the bed, startled.

“There. Was that so hard?” Kazuichi said silkily when Gundham was lying on the bed in his shirt and scarf, glaring. Kazuichi tried to take the scarf off too, but Gundham’s hissed threats became more vehement and he gave up. “Fine, keep it on then. Though I don’t think the gothic look is very sustainable in a tropical climate, man. Right, I’m going to get you something to drink.”

Gundham didn’t respond until Kazuichi had returned with a cup full of water from the bathroom. “I shall take advice from one with such abysmal fashion sense as yourself with a grain of salt, fiend,” he said, with as much dignity as he could muster while tomato-red and damp with sweat on his bed.

Kazuichi had to fight very hard not to pour the glass of water directly over Gundham’s head, but he just about managed to help him drink it instead. Then he grabbed the little fan from the bathroom and placed it by Gundham’s bed, dampened a cloth and slapped it rather unceremoniously on his forehead. Gundham yelped and glared again, water trickling down his temples. Good. Serves him right for that earlier comment. “There. Keep your head back or you’ll smudge your eyeliner. And don’t move. I’ll try to find Mikan while I’m looking for Maga-Z, okay?”

Gundham turned his face away, cupping one hand over the Devas protectively. He mumbled something into the material of his scarf.

“What?” Kazuichi asked.

“I said I am grateful for your assistance…”

“Oh.” Kazuichi was surprised. He’d never heard Gundham acknowledge he needed any help before - though maybe that was Kazuichi’s own fault. He’d been the one to start up the whole stupid rivalry thing (which wasn’t ever a rivalry in the first place since the girl wasn’t remotely interested). Maybe this was a step towards a reconciliation.

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna leave you to die,” Kazuichi added awkwardly.

“You are far more tolerable when you do not echo the Dark Queen like a parrot. I once believed you had no real mind of your own,” Gundham said bluntly.

Kazuichi flushed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You made yourself an extension of the Dark Queen. You never disputed her or challenged her. You agreed with her every word.”

“Well… I wanted her to like me,” Kazuichi mumbled. “Look, you don’t need to lecture me about all this. You know I’ve left Sonia alone.”

“Indeed. But you still wish to befriend her?” Gundham asked. Even weak and overheated as he was, his eyes were burning into Kazuichi’s with such a fierce intensity he had to look away.

“That’s her choice. Why are you asking all this?”

“If you still seek a friendly companionship with the Dark Queen, you should not forget she is a mere powerless mortal,” Gundham said. “She does not wish to be treated like she is extraordinary. She does not wish to be around those who only agree to please her.”

Kazuichi stared at him. Was Gundham really offering advice? Was this a weird way to repay him for helping out? It was pretty embarrassing to be given advice on how to make friends from Gundham, who openly distrusted everyone - but he was friends with Sonia. Maybe even something more, Kazuichi honestly didn’t know. He’d tried to stay away from Sonia as much as possibly, partly because he wanted her to be more comfortable and partly because he was pretty fucking embarrassed by his past behaviour. But he would like to be her friend. Nothing else - he knew that wouldn’t ever happen - but friends was good.

“Now make haste!” Gundham suddenly cried, making Kazuichi jump. “Continue the search! I shall rejoin you as soon as I am able.”

“No, rest. Don’t move and especially don’t put your coat on again. I’ll find Maga-Z,” Kazuichi said quickly. He dashed outside before Gundham could protest, groaning as the sticky heat wrapped around him once more.

He started searching again, after taking a quick detour to Mikan’s cabin to ask if she could go check on Gundham and make sure he hadn’t gone out into the sun again. Almost everyone on the island was searching now, splitting off into little groups to cover more ground. Nagito was one of the last to join in - and Hajime and Kazuichi watched in astonishment as he shifted the very first box he touched in the storage room of the old building and pointed. “There he is.”

“WHY didn’t I ask him first?!” Kazuichi practically screamed.

“Ultimate Luck seems a pretty useful talent,” Hajime murmured to him, not wanting Nagito to hear. It’d only start him off on a long self-deprecating rant. “Go on then, Kazuichi. Get him.”

Kazuichi peered behind the box on his hands and knees. Maga-Z was cowering in the corner, fur dishevelled and standing on end. He didn’t look too friendly. “Why do I have to grab the stupid hamster?” Kazuichi whined. “You grab him, Hajime. I don’t like them. They look like they know too much.”

“What are you on about?” Hajime sighed. “It’s just a hamster. You can’t be scared of a hamster, Kazuichi.”

“They’re Gundham’s hamsters. They probably like… worship the devil or something.”

“Hamsters don’t worship anything. They’re just hamsters.”

“Can I go now?” Nagito asked, looking like he was losing braincells just listening to this conversation.

“Yeah, thanks, Nagito. Unless you fancy grabbing this hamster,” Kazuichi said. He looked hopeful, but Nagito left without another word.

“I’ll do it,” Hajime said, exasperated. He reached behind the box to ease his hand underneath Maga-Z, but as soon as his fingers brushed fur, the hamster made a mad dash forward. Directly towards Souda. He squealed and hastily cupped both hands around Maga-Z, holding him at arm’s length. “Oh my God, oh my God, I got him… Oh God, he’s gonna bite me, I know he is,” Kazuichi whined.

“Hey, good job,” Hajime said, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d catch him.”

“I’m not a baby, Hajime,” Kazuichi huffed. Then he whimpered in a very childish way. “Ugh, he’s wriggling around. Can I… put him somewhere? A bag or something? I don’t trust him.”

“Just shove him in your pocket and let’s go. It’s boiling in here. And Gundham will be stressing about Maga-Z. Do you know where he is?”

“I had to put him to bed because he nearly fainted. He was running around in his black coat all day.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “Nobody on this island has any self-preservation skills.”

“At least Maga-Z is okay.” Kazuichi studied the little ball of fluff cupped in his hands. Somehow his little ink drop eyes did look menacing. “Hey, he really does look like he wanted to go off and cause chaos on his own, doesn’t he?”

Hajime gave Kazuichi a look. “I think you’ve spent too much time with Gundham today.”

Thankfully, Gundham was still in his room and looking a lot better, though still very visibly agitated. His colour had returned to ghostly pale (he must’ve reapplied his makeup) and his eyes were far more focused - they snapped to the door right away when Hajime opened it. When he saw Kazuichi, his hands still full of wriggling hamster, his brow cleared.

“Take him, quick!” Kazuichi said, hurrying over to the bed. “I’m sure he wants to bite me.”

“You fiend,” Gundham murmured, taking the hamster. For a second Kazuichi was offended, thinking Gundham was calling him names when he and Hajime had been nice enough to bring the hamster back, but then he realised Gundham was talking to Maga-Z. He spoke to them in exactly the same way he spoke to his classmates, no silly mushy voices like most people did with cute animals.

“I can only pray you have not caused too much destruction while unsupervised,” he murmured, smoothing Maga-Z’s fur. The hamster sat up to greet him like a little puppy, and Kazuichi noticed for the first time that Maga-Z’s cheeks were bulging.

“Did he really run off just to steal food?” Kazuichi groaned. “We’ve been so stressed and he was just eating!”

“Ah yes, a feast befitting the magnificent Crimson Steel Elephant,” Gundham said, gently placing Maga-Z with the other hamsters. They circled him joyfully, happy to be reunited too.

Kazuichi threw his hands up exasperatedly. “I give up. You’re all nuts.”

Gundham turned to Kazuichi, his face solemn. “I am deeply indebted to you, as is everybody who resides on this island. I cannot speak of the terrors that may have occurred if Maga-Z was without guidance. I shall spread the story of your triumph to every other mortal here so they can show you due gratitude,” he said.

“Oh… Thanks, man.” Kazuichi could see he meant well, but the thought of Gundham telling everyone Kazuichi saved the island from a hamster’s destruction was pretty embarrassing. He could already see Hajime smirking out of the corner of his eye.

“You should stay inside a bit longer though,” Hajime said. “Just in case. You need to make sure you’re totally cooled down.”

“Indeed. I have had ample excitement for one day,” Gundham said.

“Me too,” Kazuichi mumbled.

“If you’re feeling better, you can tell everyone about Kazuichi saving the island over dinner,” Hajime said, grinning. Kazuichi glared at him.

“Asshole,” he muttered as soon as they were outside Gundham’s cabin.

Hajime burst out laughing. “Maybe he’ll make you sound really gallant and fearless when he tells it.”

“Then everyone will know it’s a lie right away. And anyway, Nagito saw what happened. Even if you don’t give away the real story, he’ll definitely tell.”

“Probably. But you did save his hamster, even if you weren’t that fearless about it. Is there a truce between you two now?”

“I suppose so. He’s not so bad. Crazy and dramatic and difficult… but okay,” Kazuichi admitted. He paused. “I don’t know what half of the words he uses mean though.”

“Yeah,” Hajime agreed. “I don’t either.”

#super danganronpa two #danganronpa 2 #kazuichi souda #gundham tanaka #four dark devas of destruction #overheating #Gundham’s lines were ridiculously hard #mod circle

[dat-town]

catch me if you can

Characters: Eric & You

Genre: fluff, comedy

Setting: spy au, gang au

Summary: Eric Sohn got the mission to catch you but you always managed to slip through his fingers. Little does he know: rather than him catching you, he would get stuck into your web.

Words: 3.3k

For @lily-blue​. See? I warned you I’d write you something with this Eric. You’re welcome. (Don’t worry he’s cute because I know you’re a sucker for his cuteness.)

Inspired by the Chase promotions and Eric’s rap in The Stealer: “Is it an addiction? You’re not an easy mission. Losin’ my mind. The fire’s ignited and I run to catch you.”

Eric Sohn would have liked to think he was no fool. Yet, you made him feel like one.

He stood flabbergasted at the dead end having no idea where you had gone when he was clearly chasing you close enough, this time almost catching you. But you slipped through his fingers. Again. The boy ruffled his hair in frustration and groaned in his annoyance, knowing all too well the teasing he would get from his team mates for going back to the headquarters empty handed. Again. He had been put on the task of retrieving you for weeks now and the closest he got to you was to see your cheeky smile and triumphant looks before disappearing. He started calling you Black Widow in his head. That way it hurt his pride less. You were just that good.

Eric sighed in defeat and after looking around in the dirty alley he indeed turned back to go back to the HQ where he could already feel Sunwoo’s curious eyes on him as soon as he stepped inside. That meant that Haknyeon, their IT guy who monitored his movements, didn’t tell about his failure yet.

“What’s with the long face?” Sangyeon patted their youngest on the shoulder when he walked past, oblivious to the elephant in the room that Eric didn’t want to be reminded of.

“That girl from Alpha got away again, I guess~” Sunwoo singsonged and grimaced childishly when Eric’s nose scrunched up and lifted a hand threatening to hit him. Friendly competition was an everyday occurrence at their base but sometimes Eric really hated how Sunwoo, only a few (okay, more than like six) months older than him, managed to do everything perfectly on the first try.

“Ah, is this the girl whose know-how would be crucial in order to take Alpha down?” the senior agent asked since he managed a different team with different missions this time around. Eric pouted as he nodded, admitting that his lack of professionalism held back the whole team.

His so-called Black Widow used to be a member of Alpha but a few weeks back, just before he got his newest mission, she went stray. It looked as if she was running away but not from the police but from her own gang. She was considered a traitor which would have come handy for their agency in order to deal with Alpha if they could use her knowledge about her previous team.

“You got this,” Juyeon told him kindly, encouraging but it didn’t really lift the boy’s mood. It was easy for Juyeon to say with his wide shoulders, long legs and piercing look, he was one of Cre.Ker’s top agents. When could he ever?

“Yeah, we still have time. Maybe you should approach her differently? It seems like she knows our usual tactic,” Sangyeon mused out loud and the boy nodded, agreeing. Maybe he should have changed his strategy, he just didn’t know how. But he was determined, so he didn’t give up.

Okay, so Eric’s usual tactic was to lunch onto the scene as soon as Haknyeon let him know that he spotted you somewhere. He wore all black to dissolve into the shadows more easily. He had his earpiece in and everything ready for work, so maybe that was the problem: he was being way too obvious. Aish, of course, you knew you were being tailed. So this time around he tried to take a step forward, to get ahead of you: he wandered around the neighbourhood where you usually hang out hoping to catch a glimpse of you while you wouldn’t spot him. So he didn’t wear his usual baseball cap, nor the black turtleneck, instead he opted for a printed sleeveless shirt, a leather jacket and skinny jeans. Something casual but sexy enough to not be the odd one out in the clubbing area of Itaewon. For someone who was on run you seemed to prefer this neighbourhood, so Eric took his chance and looked around.

Everything seemed ordinary that day: teens whining when bodyguards didn’t let them inside the bars and drunken people being a bit too loud. Nothing really doubtful, so Eric was very much taken aback when he was pushed to the wall in an alley and blinking his surprise away he saw you looking at him with furious eyes.

“You don’t know when to give up, right? Don’t you think you’re being suspicious by walking around the block for the third time?” you scoffed at him and it sounded so scolding that Eric’s ears burnt red.

“Well, I still got lucky, don’t you think?” he grinned, happy that he could lure you out and using this chance, he grabbed on your wrist to turn their position around and pressed your back against the brick wall, holding your hands steady. 

“You’re ruining my incognito, you stupid, it’s not luck,” you scrowled, not happy at all, and your words made the boy furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“What incognito? Is it because of Alpha?” he raised a brow and you rolled your eyes at him as if it should have been obvious. Well, maybe to you. For him, you were a mystery and it should have been his job to get info out of you. If you were hiding because of your ex-team, Cre.Ker’s plan would have come in handy for you, too. Working together could have been a win-win, only if you listened to him! “Look, we are not on opposite sides.”

“You’re seriously telling me that?” you asked pointedly looking at him holding you down which made him momentarily flustered and hesitant whether he should let you go or not.

“If I let you go, you would run away...”

“If you don’t, then we both might end up dead,” you hissed at him and a dumbfounded what? left his mouth before he noticed a shadow towering over you on the wall and turned around just in time to block the attacker. Or at least one of the bunch of gang members who decided to come at you with metal bars and baseball bats.

What the heck? How rude, Eric thought but before he could have joked that it wasn’t a nice way to say hello to a lady a.k.a you, you had already punched a guy in the face, so for a moment he just stood and stared, impressed. Then he realised the seriousness of the situation and that this time there won’t be a team back up, so he got to fight back these bad guys.

The two of you did well on your own but against like seven bulked up guys, it was almost impossible to get away without a scratch, not to mention you were also better at hiding and disappearing than fighting for your life, so you realised pretty quickly that it would have been wiser to break into a run. For a moment, you pondered over the thought of going alone, leaving this random guy who had kept following you in the past weeks behind but you got curious why he said you were on the same side and knowing Alpha, they would have tortured him if he didn’t manage to leave too. So, in the end, you let out a deep sigh and after kicking a guy hard in the stomach, you run to the boy, grabbing his elbow.

“Let’s go,” you panted and ran into a sprint, Eric following you a moment late.

The two of you were running like crazy, chased by the big guys through the Itaewon crowd. In a way it made your job easy because it was easier to blend in but also harder since there was a higher chance someone would tell where you went. You couldn’t run forever though, you needed a hideout, you knew that, so you made the decision in a split second turning unexpectedly right and then instead of running forward, you pulled the boy behind you into the first building that was there, crouching down to hide from the thugs running along.

You waited for a few moments before standing up, straightening your back and looking around only to find curious eyes on your figure. You elbowed the agent in the side to turn around as you awkwardly bowed towards the receptionist of a motel or so it seemed.

“Would you like to get a room? Or do you maybe need me to call the police?” The woman looked at your duo in suspicion already reaching for the phone on the counter.

“No need. We… we will take a room,” Eric stepped forward. He wanted to talk with you anyways, at least this way he would have a proper place to do so, without anyone eavesdropping. He glanced at you, a part of him expecting you to protest but instead you stepped forward.

“Please if my brothers come and ask about me, don’t let them know,” you dropped your voice and slid more than enough cash to the lady at the counter. If she noticed how wide Eric’s eyes had gotten, she didn’t comment on it and just gave you a key for the room in the very back. From the way his muscles get tense, you could tell the boy didn’t expect you to half-hug him to keep on the act but he swung an arm around your shoulder quickly and laughed it off when you shoved him off as soon as the door shut closed behind you.

“The fight you put up back there was impressive,” he hummed and you found it amazing that he was so casual and open about it. You rarely got compliments like this one from guys. They were too busy trying to impress you.

“I just know how to live in this harsh world,” you shrugged and shut the blinds closed after staring out of the window for a short minute.

“Bad childhood?” The agent questioned you which left a bitter taste in your mouth. It wasn’t a fresh wound but still.

“Fucked up life.” A scoff left your throat as you looked him in the eyes. He got pretty ones, like melted chocolate, it made you muse for a moment too long before the cruel words slipped through your lips:  “You wanna know why I left Alpha? Well, I didn’t really have a choice. They want me dead. That’s just the cherry on top.”

The laughter that you forced out was a dry one but the guy at least attempted a smile. The gesture froze onto his pale features though when he moved his arm and you heard him hiss when he shrugged his jacket off him. You might have made a comment on not being interested in his biceps if you didn’t notice the huge lilac bruise blooming on one of his shoulders. It looked like he crashed into the wall pretty damn hard.

“You got hurt because of me,” you pointed out, apology in your voice even though you knew he wasn’t your responsibility.

“It was my decision to follow you around,” he shook his head observing the injury like a kid blinking at the torn skin after falling.

“Still,” you huffed and walked into the small motel room’s even smaller fridge and pulled out the ice pack to toss it over the guy. Lucky for him his reflexes were good enough to catch it before landing. After a moment of silence watching him apply pressure on the bruise with a grimace you called for his attention with a question. “What’s your name?”

“Eric,” he answered too quickly, too easy. You clicked your tongue.

“The real one.”

The guy, Eric or whoever, cracked a mischievous smile at that.

“It’s as real as it can get. My Korean name is Sohn Youngjae if that’s what you’re curious about,” he said and the tone of his voice sounded genuine, though it could be a well made up lie that he used for a long time. Sohn Youngjae, codename: Eric, you made a mental note to yourself to not forget it in case you needed the info later on.

“Who are you working for?” you questioned next, another tick in your mental checklist which made the boy chuckle.

“Is it an interrogation?” he raised an eyebrow playfully, his smile lacking any of the previous pain, as if he forgot so quickly that he got hurt. He sounded surprised even though your curiosity was only natural.

“You told me we aren’t on the opposite side,” you explained in a more serious tone and Eric nodded at your words. After seeing what you were capable of, it was a lot more probable that he would convince you to take their side than to take you to the HQ with force or anything like that.

“Right. I can tell you my story if you tell me yours,” he suggested and reached out with his right hand for a handshake, as if it could have sealed your deal. You stared at his calloused fingers for a moment, nibbling on your lower lip before taking his hand in yours. 

“Okay,” you said knowing fully well that there was no guarantee either of you told the truth but after all it was a game of trust.

So eventually you ended up sitting on the floor with the pillows stolen from the double bed, taking turns. You learned about Eric’s hometown and the explanation behind his English name, about how he came to Korea for an internship and ended up joining a spy agency. In exchange you told him about your shitty family, the drug and alcohol issues, how you ended up on the street at 17 and stumbled into your troubled ex. You got into Alpha because of him and for a while it wasn’t that bad, just dealing for easy money. But he’s got some serious issues, so you broke up and you wanted to leave but it wasn’t so easy. And about a month ago, you saw one of the uppermen kill someone and as a witness now you were their newest target. Too bad for them: you were too good at hiding. That even Eric admitted.

“We are planning to take them down, you know. With your help, we could,” he spoke up quietly as he turned on his side to look at you from his place on the floor. You stared back at him without blinking or avoiding his intense, honest gaze. With your experience it was hard to put your trust into anyone’s hand. It was nothing personal.

“I’m not sure I trust you enough for that yet,” you told the boy, straightforward as always. He didn’t take it to the heart, based on your observations he never did.

“Well… what can you lose?” he hummed looking you straight in the eyes and his question rendered you speechless.

You in fact didn’t have much to lose. You were on the run anyways, you had no ambition to stay in the gang work but getting involved with a spy agency? What if you ended up in jail even if you helped them? You should have earned mercy at least for your help, shouldn’t you? Or maybe it was just wishful thinking to have a fresh start, a new normal life. Though you weren’t sure what was normal anymore. You liked the adrenalin, you liked the excitement running in your veins, just not the idea of having a target on your head.

So you sealed your lips and turned onto your back, staring up at the dark ceiling as if that could have answered your questions and by the time you glanced sideways at the boy to ask about his agency, you saw him asleep. His eyes closed, pouty lips slightly apart, breathing evenly. Huh, he really trusted you to fall asleep like that. You faced him to keep an eye on him but after a while you felt dreamland pulling you into the dark as well and before you knew you fell asleep on the floor next to a boy whom you barely knew.

It was you who woke up earlier, startled by the closeness and peaceful sleeping expression of Eric. His head fell off the pillow sometime during the night and his hair was quite messy, cheeks having imprints of the carpet. It was kind of cute.

Especially when he eventually woke up and rolled away from you with wide eyes as if he was afraid of you hitting him or something. You just giggled at his antics as you sat up.

“Get up. We need to leave before sunrise,” you told him and Eric reminded you of a kitten as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stared at you dumbfounded.

“What? We?”

“I’m saying I can help you catch the Alpha guys if I can get amnesty,” you let him know about your ultimatum and you had never seen a guy get up so fast after waking up. Eric seemed super enthusiastic and pretty giddy for a spy talking about getting rid of one of the most dangerous gangs of Seoul.

“I’m pretty sure that can be arranged,” he said, already grabbing at his leather jacket before turning to the bathroom. But before he would have stepped inside, you looked back at you, uncertain.

“Chill, I’m not going to run away,” you rolled your eyes and got ready to leave as well. The new receptionist was basically half asleep when the two of you eventually checked out, blending into the shadows of the pretty empty streets. Only a few early birds were out there which made you more nervous than crowds and it didn’t help that you had no choice but to trust Eric as you followed him through metro stations. Neither of you talked too much but you saw him on the phone texting with someone and when you eventually got into the elevator of a fancy office building, you turned to him, questioning.

“So where are we going?”

“To meet my team leader,” he explained so casually you raised a brow at him, hands on your waist, almost scolding.

“You’re taking me to the HQ? How can you trust me like that?” you called him out on his naivety but Eric had the audacity to laugh at you. His mouth pulled into a laugh as he turned to you and took a calculative step closer as you backed up until the elevator’s wall cautiously eyeing each of his movements.

“Look, you’re pretty deadly but I doubt you can take us all down in the heart of the organization but try your best if that’s your evil intention,” he smirked down at you, tilting his head, trying to seem intimidating in his big boy look with the leather jacket and you had the urge to pinch him on the shoulder just to see him flinch. But actually, you had a better idea.

“Do you want to know my most evil intention, Eric Sohn?” you whispered standing on your toes and you took your time with the pause on purpose, letting your gaze wander to his rosy lips before looking back into his chocolate eyes. “Seeing you blush again.”

Ding.

The elevator’s door opened and you whipped your head towards the office on the other side.

Crash.

Eric was too dumbfounded to see Haknyeon fall off his chair or Sunwoo stare at you with his jaw dropped while the boiling water Changmin was pouring into his mug started to overflow as all eyes were fixated on your duo. Casually as if nothing happened you patted Eric on the cheek, asking sweetly: 

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

You pretended not to hear one of the guys yell that Eric brought his crush to the base.

#the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz eric #tbz eric #eric sohn fluff #stories

[mammons-sugarbaby]

Hmmmm... What about a hc about the brothers visiting a zoo?

(I'm also going to reference the paws and claws event which was when I started playing....at the tail end of it lol)

MC's begging finally paid off and Lucifer cracked, agreeing to go on an outing to a human world zoo for the day, and of course the other brothers wanted to go where MC was going!

(this got suuuuuper long so I put most under a read more)

Lucifer

⦁ At first he would see it as something that cut into his busy scedule running errands and doing paperwork for Diavolo, but after getting there and seeing MC so excited, of course he'd soften up.

⦁ He'd tease them about acting like one of the kids running around but would 100% enjoy their enthusiasm. He'd take an interest in the wolf exibit, reading the information plaque about wolves and their familial bonds and feel a sort of kinship.

⦁ Of course he's also heard stories casting wolves in a negative light, in one case humans killing many in a particular area to protect their livestock, and an experiment reintroducing them to the area. The experiment went on to show how vital wolves were to the ecosystem and public opinion changed. They were misunderstood, Lucifer knew that feeling well.

⦁ At the end of the visit, Lucifer and MC were in the gift shop and MC picked up a stuffed wolf and showed Lucifer, saying how it reminded them of him. When they put it down and went to look at something else, Lucifer picked it up and bought it, surprising MC with it on the way home.

⦁ "So you'll have something to remind you of me when we're apart." He told MC, giving them a sly smile and causing them to blush. But Lucifer didn't fail to notice how they clutched the stuffed toy to their chest the whole way back, as well as noticing it sitting on MC's bed whenever he would pay them a visit. He'd never admit it, but it made him happy as well as a little jealous that MC slept with it every night. At some point he'd suggest MC could sleep in his room if cuddling the wolf plush wasn't enough.

Mammon

⦁ He wouldn't get why MC would want to walk around in the hot sun and look at animals all day, but once they get there, he gets just as excited as they do.

⦁ He'd ask all sorts of questions about every animal, and make plans on how to steal some and bring back to the devildom, surely they'd sell for a ton of grim!

⦁ Satan has to remind him human world animals wouldn't survive long in the devildom, and Mammon would dismiss him saying as long as he made a profit, who cares about some dumb animal.

⦁ This upsets MC and they scold him and tell him all about exotic animal smuggling, circuses, and other places that used animals for entertainment even if it caused the animal distress. Mammon feels bad and apologizes for upsetting MC.

⦁ But as soon as he sees the tiger, he is once again thinking of ways to get one, not for profit this time, but for himself. He admired the way they excluded a sort of quiet power, a regality, something beautiful and dangerous. He wondered if he could find the devildom equivalent and just how he'd be able to smuggle it into the house of lamentation.

⦁ At the gift shop he sees MC admiring a tiger keychain and when they walk away he pockets it, planning to give it to them later. While leaving he hands it to MC. "I saw you checking this out and I thought you'd like it." He says, cheeks flushing red as he tried to act nonchalant.

⦁ MC is surprised and brings out a matching one and gives it to him, explaining that they saw HIM looking at it and thought how nice it would be to give him a souvenir. MC laughs and says they have a matching set now, causing Mammon to lose what little control he had and he turns into a blushing, stammering mess. He starts rambling about how they shouldn't have spent so much money on something like that, but inside he was over the moon that MC had thought of him and that they now shared matching keychains.

Levi

⦁ He complains about having to go to such a "normie" activity, he has game events going on! And anime to review!

⦁ He's pouty through the first half hour of being there, until MC's constant attempts to include him in their fun finally win him over. He focuses on enjoying his time with MC, taking note of everything they find particularly interesting.

⦁ They reach the exhibit with the zebras, elephants, gazelles, and giraffes and he notes MC's smile drops when they don't see the long-necked herbevore. However he notices a sign that says "Feed the Giraffes!" with times underneath, he checks his limited edition Ruri watch and sees that it's feeding time.

⦁ "Hey, follow me MC." He says quickly, not wanting them to notice the sign. MC gives him a confused look but follows. The crowd gets thicker and MC falls a little behind, and when Levi notices, he grabs their hand and pulls them along, not wanting to miss surprising MC with feeding the giraffes. ⦁ Thankfully they're able to get there before the line got too long, and the take their place. While standing in line, Levi realizes he was still holding MC's hand and quickly lets go, blushing and stuttering out an apology. MC tells him they don't mind and if it's okay with him, they would like to keep holding hands. This makes Levi blush even harder and he holds out his hand for MC to grab.

⦁ "So what are we in line for?" MC asks, bringing Levi back from his inner thoughts about how it was just like that dating sim 'I took my crush to the zoo and we got separated so when I found them I didn't let go of their hand for the rest of the trip and eventually they kissed me in front of the panda exhibit'. Levi tells MC it's a surprise and they'll see in a little bit.

⦁ When they get to the front of the line, a park worker gives them a large cup of feed and explained how to feed the giraffes and ushered them up the platform. MC looked excitedly at Levi and was practically bouncing with excitement.

⦁ After feeding the giraffes, MC throws their arms around Levi and hugs them tight, jumping up and down and squealing about how he was the best and how it was such an awesome surprise.

⦁ Levi thought it would be the perfect chance to kiss MC like the protagonist in that anime, but MC beats him to it and plants an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek, making the shut-in otaku completely lose his composure and become a blushing, stuttering mess.

Satan

⦁ He actually is interested in going to the zoo, he reads a few books about zoos, what makes them good or bad, and about some of the animals that the zoo may keep.

⦁ As soon as he clears the gate, he grabs a pamphlet for himself and one for MC. He starts pointing to places on the map, explaining what order they should view the exhibits so that they would have time to see them all.

⦁ Halfway through MC's stomach growls and they apologize and ask Satan if he minded grabbing a bite to eat at the cafe with them. ⦁ He agrees and they head into the cafe, and to Satan's delight it was big cat themed. The barista was wearing tiger ears, their coworker wearing cheetah ears and when they turned around, MC notice they also wore a matching tail.

⦁ MC and Satan got their food and drinks and sat at a nearby table, while MC ate, Satan filled them in on various facts about the animals they'd seen that day.

⦁ When they get up to leave, Satan notices a souvenir stand and goes to investigate. MC points at a shirt that reads "Big Cat Cafe" with an image of various large cats curling around a mug below, and tells Satan they think it would be fun to get matching shirts. ⦁ Satan happily agrees and buys the shirts, then he suggests MC should try theirs on and MC tells him they both should change and wear the shirts for the remainder of the visit. So they change, and for the rest of the trip Satan can't stop smiling and thinking how cute MC looks and feels slightly smug thinking about how his brothers would react, especially Lucifer.

Asmo

⦁ He didn't really want to go, walking around in the sun for long periods of time was so bad for his skin. Not to mention the smells, he told MC he'd never be able to get it out of his clothes.

⦁ Nonetheless, MC convinced him and being Asmo, he's pulled out all the stops, wearing a gaudy explorer outfit to "fit in", as well as carrying an umbrella.

⦁ He cooed over various animals, saying how cute they were. Not as cute as him of course, but they had their charm.

⦁ It was then they came to the black bear exhibit, the massive creature lumbering over to the edge of its enclosure before flopping down. I seemed to look up then at Asmo and MC did a wave motion with it's paw.

⦁ Asmo went wild, pointing and dramatically exclaiming that "It recognizes my beauty!! No other animal here acknowledged me! This is obviously a creature of intelligence, class, and culture!"

⦁ MC couldn't help but laugh and after Asmo gave them an offended look, they explained that bears sometimes mimic people in that fashion, usually to get treats. ⦁ Asmo waved them off and continued to fawn over the bear. Eventually the bear wandered back inside, presumably to get out of the heat, and Asmo blew it kisses and waved until it was out of site.

⦁ On their way out, Asmo insisted on stopping at the gift shop, where MC bought Asmo a small teddy bear, since "he loved the bear so much". Within the week, a huge box arrived from akuzon addressed to MC and when they opened it, they were surprised to see a gigantic pink teddy bear that was covered in ribbons and bows. Asmo waltzed in and dramatically called "Ta-dah~~!!! Just a little thank you present for my favorite human~"

Beel

⦁ Beel was happy MC asked him to go to the zoo with them, he enjoyed hanging out with them.

⦁ Once through the gate they picked up (more) snacks so Beel wouldn't get too hungry while walking around.

⦁ Beel asked tons of questions about the animals they saw, and what kinds of animals MC liked best.

⦁ When they came to the lion exhibit, the lions were being fed and MC could hear Beel's stomach growl. He apologized and Mc told him not to worry about it, that if he'd like, they could go grab so more food.

⦁ Beel nodded but told MC he wanted to watch the lions for just a while longer. After a few minutes, his stomach growled again, even louder this time. The male lion's head turned towards them and he let out a bellowing roar.

⦁ They both burst into laughter and had to find a quiet area to calm down. Wiping tears from their eyes, MC asked Beel if he wanted to go to the restaurant now, Beel nodded and took MC's hand and they headed off to find out where the restaurant was.

⦁ While they waited for their food to arrive, Beel chatted excitedly about the various animals they had seen and MC asked if there was a devildom equivalent to a human zoo, Beel replied he was unsure. MC asked what his favorite exhibit was and Beel eagerly replied the lions, because of the moment they shared together.

Belphie

⦁ This boy complained the whole time MC was trying to convince him. At first he was extremely opposed to going to the human world in the first place. Besides, animals usually didn't like demons, unless it was the kind they were connected with.

⦁ Then he'd complain and ask what the big fuss was about looking at some animals in cages, it sounded pretty miserable for the animals. It's just like humans to not care about something unless they got entertainment out of it, even at the expense of what ever was entertaining them.

⦁ He complained even while walking around, though did secretly enjoy seeing MC happy. ⦁ After another round of complaining, he saw MC's smile slip ever so slightly, become a little more forced, it not quite reaching their eyes. 'Damn it, I went too far and now their upset.'

⦁ From then on he tried to keep his bitching to a minimum, though he was getting so sleepy. He didn't see how MC thought he could make it through the whole trip without falling asleep.

⦁ Eventually they came to a sort of petting area where various employees showed off various animals and let visitors touch them while explaining about the animal.

⦁ Belphie saw a bench in the corner and made a beeline for it, he sat down and leaned against the wall, promptly falling asleep.

⦁ He woke up to MC's voice calling his name and he reluctantly opened his eyes before he noticed a weight in his lap. Looking down, a fox had curled up on his lap, sleeping soundly. He was surprised and accidentally moved, causing the fox to wake up and look at him.

⦁ But it just sat there, staring at him as if saying "Why did you wake me up?" He knew that feeling all to well. "Sorry for waking you..." Belphie muttered, then slowly brought his hand up and gave it head scritches. The fox seemed to enjoy this and Belphie ran his hand along it's soft fur, noting a kind of harness on it.

⦁ He was so content he didn't realize a zoo employee come up and apologize for the fox's behaviour, that one was always slipping off somewhere. Belphie shook his head and told them it was no problem, but then the employee brought out a leash and clipped it to the fox's harness and clicked their tongue, causing the fox to jump down.

⦁ MC was bubbling over with excitement and envy on their way out of the park, saying how lucky he was that he got to pet the cute fox. Belphie only heard half of what they said before a fox plush outside of the gift shop caught his eye. He turned and headed towards the shop without warning, catching MC off guard. They soon followed after him and saw him looking intently at a row of fox stuffed animals, he seemed to find one he liked more than the other identical ones and picked it up.

⦁ He then asked MC if they could buy it for him, since he didn't have "human money". The laughed and agreed, buying it for him and smiling at how cute he was clutching at the stuffed fox.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me levi #obey me lucifer #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #answered #sorry this took so long! #msb writes

[fairylightsandchai]

The Internship - Part 1

A/N: Hello! I know I usually don’t post fanfiction to this blog, but I really wanted to participate in @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​‘s Pre-Code Challenge! Just ignore this if you follow me and you’re not interested. 

Pairing: Dark!Professor!Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: >10K

Summary: You are a student in the former-Captain America’s American History class, and you soon notice that Professor Rogers has been paying more than a professional amount of attention to you. But when he approaches you with an internship opportunity that’s too good to be true, how can you say no? 

(A/N: This fic contains non-con elements, stalking, and manipulation, and in later parts it will inclue rape, breeding kink, and kidnapping. It is also inspired by The Wild Party, a film from 1929. I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think.) 

           You had always wanted to be a writer. When you were a little girl, you’d spent most of your time with your nose in a book and your head in the clouds, dreaming of the day when you would tell stories of your own, stories that connected with people all over the globe.

           And then the Battle of New York had happened.

           You had been in high school during the attack, a shy freshman who had only wanted to blend in and disappear amongst the rest of your classmates. You’d still had your dreams of being a bestselling author someday.

           But, like so many other things in your small, sheltered world, all of that changed the day the Chitauri invaded. You hadn’t been in the city at the time; you’d grown up in upstate New York, about an hour away from the busy metropolis, but it had still shaken your small town to its foundations. It was too close to home, too huge for you and your neighbors to comprehend.

           After it had happened, you spent less time dwelling on fiction and more time focused on the truth; the nonfiction isles of your school’s library became your second home, and you were always the first one in your family to read the Sunday paper. You followed current events almost obsessively, imagining one day having your name printed on the New York Post under a ground-breaking story that would define the rest of your career – the rest of your life.  

           You had not, however, counted on having one of the Avengers as your professors in college, and yet here you were, stood outside the history building of Columbia University with binder in hand, a syllabus and class schedule tucked inside of it.

You hadn’t realized that you would need to take classes on subjects other than writing – you’d known about the needed electives for your course, obviously, but most of them were somehow linked to writing, be it creatively or informatively. Your required history credit had surprised you, though, and your surprise only doubled as you’d scrolled through the available history courses on your student Blackboard account and found a name that stood out amongst the rest. American History (157) – Professor Steven Grant Rogers.

At first you’d chuckled at the coincidence and signed up for it without thinking, but after you’d been accepted into the course, after you’d read and studied its syllabus, you’d started researching your various professors only to find that Professor Steven Grant Rogers…was actually THE Steven Grant Rogers. As in, Captain America himself. As in, one of the people who had fought against the Chitauri and inspired you to seek out journalism.

           And now you were about to walk into his class.

           Letting out a deep sigh, you pushed a strand of your hair out of your eyes and adjusted your cardigan before pushing open the door of the classroom and stepping inside. Looking around, you only noticed a handful of other students, but then again you had arrived fifteen minutes early for class. Your eyes scanned each of their faces before finally meandering to the front of the classroom, immediately picking out the shape of your professor sitting at his desk.

           Even with him sitting behind his desk, you could tell that he was huge. His shoulders were broad, and the fabric of his light blue shirt strained against them as he hunched over, jotting something into a leather notebook. His hair was neat and trimmed, and he had grown out a beard since his retirement from the Avengers. It looked good on him, you mused, but in the middle of your thoughts he turned and looked at you, his piercing blue eyes looking directly into yours, and you froze where you stood.

           You saw his eyes widen for a split second while he took you in, but before you could register the shift in his expression he had put on an easy smile, giving you a small nod.

           “Welcome,” Professor Rogers spoke, his voice warm and genuine.

           You, for your part, answered with an incredibly smooth and well-thought-out response.

           “U-um…” you stammered, shifting on your feet. “Hello.”

           Feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, you ducked your head and darted to the first row of desks and sank into one, willing your heart to stop its infernal pounding. As you silently cursed yourself for being so nervous, you opened your binder and pulled out the only two sheets of paper in it along with your spiral bound notebook before reaching into your backpack and rooting around for a pen.

           He’s just a person, you lectured yourself internally. A person who has saved the world on more than one occasion, but a person, nonetheless. He probably gets tired of people acting differently around him just because he’s-            “Do you need a copy of the syllabus?”

           The voice came from in front of you, and your head popped up to see Professor Rogers standing in front of your desk holding a stack of papers. He held one out to you, but you quickly smiled and picked your syllabus off of your desk.

           “Oh, no, thanks! I printed one off last night,” you explained. “But thank you.”

           His smile grew, and he walked back to his desk, setting the papers back down.

           “You’re prepared; I’m glad to hear it.”

           The minutes ticked by after that, a slow but steady line of students filing into the class as its start time grew nearer. You gauged your peers’ reactions curiously, observing as some hardly seemed to recognize your professor while a few others stopped to ask for a selfie with him. The first time that happened, your eyes had widened their bold question, but the former Avenger bared it gracefully, simply shaking his head and giving them a smile.

           “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to hold off on that till the end of class,” he’d say. “If you still want one after we’re all done then just stay behind for a few minutes.”

           Finally the clock read 10:30 and Professor Rogers made his way to the front of the desk, right in front of the empty, clean whiteboard. He took a few moments to look out over the full classroom, taking in all of the students before him. When his eyes landed on you, you swore that you saw him linger for a moment, a curious gleam resting in his eyes before he looked away and opened his mouth to speak.

           “Well, everyone, it’s time to get started,” he began. “As you probably know by now, my name is Steve Rogers, and this class is dedicated to American History from 1914 to 1939. I’d like to just say right off the bat that I’m happy to have all of you in my class, and I hope that this course is informative and helpful to each of your personal fields of study.

           “Now to address the elephant in the room,” he said, starting to pace slowly, “yes, I was alive during most of that period of time, and I did use to be known as Captain America. But I hung up that hat a few years ago, and I’d appreciate it if you showed me the same courtesy and respect that you show your other professors. That being said, I don’t want you to hesitate to ask me any personal questions you may have as long as they relate to what we’re discussing in class. Any off topic questions should be kept to yourselves or saved for after we are finished for the day.

           “Any questions?”

           There was a moment of silence as he searched for any raised hands.

           “Is the shield as heavy as it looks?” someone called from the back row, and a few snickers could be heard from around the room.

           Professor Rogers let out a chuckle of his own and pointed to the student who’d asked.

           “That is a great example of a question that should be saved for after class.”

____________

           Steve waved goodbye to the last of his students, only minorly annoyed at how many had stayed late to take a picture with him. As he packed up his things and prepared to head to his office for the rest of the day, he mused that he should have been used to it by now. With social media so prominent in society these days, he’d been hounded for selfies ever since 2012, but they were still (and probably would always be) aggravating to him.

           He didn’t linger on that today, though; he had so many other important things to think about, after all. And most of them revolved around you.

           A smile twisted his features as he remembered how you’d looked when you’d first walked into his class – so shy and hesitant but just as gorgeous as always. He’d been so pleased to see you wearing your long green cardigan today; it was one of his favorites. Mostly because of that time he’d seen you walking around your little apartment wearing nothing but your bra and panties under it, but he had to admit that you’d looked almost just as sexy wearing it with those brown leggings you’d had on today.

           As he made his way across campus to the building his office was in, he didn’t even try to hide the smirk on his face; he finally had accomplished the first part of his plan. He’d hoped to have you in his class sooner, but it had been hard finding someone to hack into the school records to add that history credit to your list of prerequisites. Well, rather, it had been hard finding someone discreet enough to get the job done. Plenty of his friends would have been able to do it without any problem; hell, Tony probably had done that exact same thing in the past. But they would have asked questions, and he couldn’t afford to have people poking around in something that didn’t concern them.

           A part of Steve knew that this wasn’t the right way of going about having you; the Steve from before Thanos would have been disgusted with his actions, absolutely repulsed at what he was planning to do. But after the snap, after he’d watched so many people he’d cared about turn to dust, something in him had changed. He’d tried so hard, so goddamn hard, to do the right thing, but in the end it hadn’t been good enough to stop everything from happening. And even now, after Thanos was dead and the fallen had been brought back, he was still different than before. He’d done the right thing his entire life, and all he’d gotten from it was heartache.

           But now he would finally claim what he deserved. He would claim you.

           The first time he’d seen you, it had been in the campus coffee shop. He had only been teaching for a year at the time, and he hadn’t foreseen how overwhelming it could be. While the students were cramming and stressing over finals, he was clamoring to compile the perfect exam for his class, the perfectionist in him never fully satisfied and constantly worrying if he had enough questions, if they were balanced enough, if they were too easy or too hard or irrelevant to the course.

           Basically, he had been frazzled, and all he’d wanted was a small black coffee and a corner booth at the café to work on his laptop in. But then he’d seen you.

You were sitting at a table with a girl around your age, and the two of you were laughing about something; it must have been hilarious, because your head was thrown back and your eyes were closed as your laugh bubbled out of your smiling lips. It was in that moment that he knew that love at first sight existed. Every love song he’d ever heard had suddenly sounded in his ears, and he stood there as if frozen as he watched you, his eyes already straining to remember every little detail about your face.            

After that day, he’d started seeing you on campus more and more often, though that might have been because he was following you. In his mind, though, it wasn’t following. It was…researching. He had to know if he’d been mistaken, if that electric feeling he’d felt upon seeing you had somehow been something other than love at first sight.

But as days turned to weeks turned to months of him following you, of him watching you while you were none the wiser, he knew that he hadn’t been mistaken. It seemed fell for you more and more with everything he learned about you and your life. Your body, your mind, your very soul seemed to be meant for him.

There was a problem, though. On the third day of him watching you, you and your friend from the café (he’d learned that her name was Tina) had gone to the library to study together, and he’d overheard you telling her something that made his heart sink.            “So… You’ve been in college for a year now,” Tina had started, and you’d groaned, knowing where she was going even before she said anything else.

“No, Tina,” you sighed.

“What! I’m just wondering when you’re planning on finding yourself a man,” your friend insisted as you rolled your eyes.

“Is never a viable answer?”

“No – you and I both know it’s not. C’mon, you’ve talked about wanting to meet your dream man since high school!”

“Well, yeah, I’ve talked about it,” you’d said. “Talking about something and actually doing it are two different things, babe.”

“I knowww,” Tina had sighed. “But c’mon, now is the time to be looking for people to share a future with.”

You’d snorted a bark of laughter at that.

“It most certainly is not,” you’d countered. “I need to focus on my career right now, Tina. Even IF I met Mr. Right, I’m not gonna start a serious relationship until after college. I gotta put myself first right now.”

“I guess I see where you’re coming from,” she’d huffed. “I get it. But you could just, you know…fool around, right? College is the time for experimentation! Don’t you wanna get that cherry popped before you graduate?”

“TINA!”

“What!” your friend had laughed. “I know you’re dying to turn in that v-card of yours.”

Steve had had to stop listening at that point. With a muffled curse, he’d turned on his heel and all but fled from the library, feeling his heart soar and shatter all at once. On one hand, that same sick part of him that was driving his actions was all but singing; if your friend had been telling the truth, then you were a virgin. His (Y/N) really was a good girl – something that was rare to find these days, especially in young college girls. A sweet, innocent girl just like he’d always dreamed about starting a family with.

But, on the other hand, you were determined to hold off on relationships until the end of college. And even if you’d be willing to let Steve be the exception to that rule, that still didn’t change the fact that you were a student and he was a member of the faculty; he would not only lose his job if the two of you were found out, but he was sure that reporters and journalists would jump at the opportunity to write an exposé  about Captain America taking advantage of a student at the university he taught at.

No, he would have to be smart about this. He knew he didn’t want to wait for you to finish your four-year degree, but he also couldn’t risk either of your reputations with some kind of forbidden relationship, if you’d even have him. He would have to think this through. He would have to come up with a plan.

___________

You were surprised at how quickly you got used to having Captain America as a teacher. You would still get nervous when he spoke directly to you, of course, but the insight he had to offer was priceless. It was one thing to learn about a period of history from a textbook, but it was another thing entirely to learn about it from someone who was actually there.

Professor Rogers was knowledgeable and kind to all of his students, and your favorite parts of his lectures were when your classmates would raise their hands and ask him about what it was like to live during whatever part of history you were learning about. You’d learned about Captain America and his backstory in high school history classes, of course, but the way he would answer those personal questions showed a whole different side of him. But you were starting to wonder if that new side of him was as golden as his status as a hero made him out to be.

Recently, something seemed a little bit off about him, as much as you hated to admit it. It only would happen in brief little flashes, so brief that immediately after you would find yourself questioning whether or not it had actually happened, but you could swear that he’d been…staring a lot recently. Specifically, he would be staring at you.

More and more often in class, you would start to feel like you were being watched; it was if you could sense eyes on you just out of the corner of your vision, and it would make your hairs stand on end. Usually, you would turn and see nothing out of the ordinary, and you would be able to chalk it up to an overactive imagination. But every now and then, you would turn and see Professor Rogers staring at you, his jaw clenched and his eyes dark.

As soon as it would happen, his expression would clear into a neutrally polite smile, and you always tried to return it to the best of your ability. But as the weeks went by, it was happening more and more frequently. And then there were the touches.

Mr. Rogers never touched you in an inappropriate way; you were almost certain that he never would. But whenever he would collect your papers, or whenever he would pass out assignments, his hand would always seem to linger. Sometimes, he would let his fingertips drag against yours as he took whatever you were handing to him; sometimes, he would set his hand on your shoulder for the briefest of moments when you dropped an assignment off with him before leaving class.

He’d also started commenting about your appearance at the beginning of class. From the moment you walked in the door to the moment you sat down in your seat, he’d manage to make some comment on your outfit. The first time he’d said something was on one of the many occasions where you were wearing your favorite cardigan.

“You look very nice today, (Y/N),” he’d mentioned in passing, almost making you stumble on your way to your seat. You’d barely managed to stutter out a ‘thank you’. After that, it happened every time you saw him, and some part of your mind whispered that he never complimented your classmates the way he would compliment you.

“I like how you did your hair this morning,” he’d said the next time.

“Like the new jeans, (Y/N),” the week after. (How had he even known those jeans were new?)

“That’s a nice color on you.”

“Looking lovely as always.”

You did love having Professor Rogers as your teacher, but each class with him made you feel increasingly uncomfortable despite your best efforts. In your mind, you knew that you were reading too much into it, but that was never able to stop you from feeling a cold shiver run up your back when you’d see him glaring at you from behind his desk.

           Despite your growing anxiety about your history professor, though, you were settling in quite nicely to your day to day routine. Your favorite days were Fridays, though; you spent your afternoons right before the weekend with your best friend, Tina. She had been your friend since junior year of high school, and while the two of you were opposites when it came to most things, the bond you shared was strong and deep.

           This Friday, however, she’d had to cancel your weekly study session; Tina was in Columbia’s dental department, and every now and then her and the other aspiring dentists would do volunteer events to help people in the surrounding area get free dental care. You were always proud of her when she took part in events like those, but you always felt a little lonelier on Friday afternoons.

           After spending the morning sleeping in and meal prepping for the week, you set out on your way to the library without your best friend in tow; you would just have to study on your own that week, especially with the first test of the semester looming over you in Mr. Roger’s class. He was kind to his students, yes, but he was also demanding. He’d made it abundantly clear that he expected quality work out of his students.

           “This is an advanced class,” he would say. “I expect you to be advanced learners.”

           Pulling your heavy wool jacket tighter around your body, you trudged into the library and sat at yours and Tina’s regular table towards the back, opening your history textbook and busting out your favorite blue highlighter; this would be a study session of the ages, not interrupted by anything or anybody-

           “(Y/N), is that you?”

           …Maybe you’d spoken too soon.

           Looking up, you saw none other than the man whose class you were about to be studying for. Professor Rogers was walking over to you with one hand in his pocket; in his other rested a copy of The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, and you smiled as you read its title.

           “Hi, Professor,” you greeted him. You made to stand up out of your chair, but before you could he took his hand out of his pocket and set it on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

           “Oh, no, don’t get up on my account. What brings you here today? Got a big test coming up or something?”

           You forced a weak smile to your lips, acutely aware that his hand was still on your shoulder.

           “Oh, yeah,” you managed to joke. “One of my pesky teachers is giving us a test next Thursday.”

           “Who does he think he is?” your teacher chuckled. Finally, he let his hand slide off of your shoulder, and you once again looked at the book he was holding.

           “The Book Thief?” you asked, nodding to it. “Are you checking it out?”

           “Oh! Yeah. For the second time, actually. It’s one of my favorites.”

           “Really? It’s one of my favorites too!”

           Steve grinned, even though he’d already known that. He’d read most of the books you had on your shelf at home; at first, he’d done it to try and draw closer to you, to see what kind of stories you liked. But after a while he just did it because you had good taste; the only book of yours that had disappointed him was a cheesy teenager romance you’d had since high school, but even then he thought it was adorable that you found enjoyment in such things.

           “It sure is a small world, huh?” he drawled, pulling out the chair across the table from yours. “Do you mind if I join you for a little while?”

           You hesitated, looking between the chair he was already half sitting in and the charming smile he had on his face. Something about the whole thing seemed off to you, but you shook away that feeling and nodded your head.

           “Be my guest,” you finally said, and your professor didn’t hesitate to sink into his seat.

           “Thanks, doll.”

           You felt your cheeks heat up at that and quickly gave him what you hoped was more of a convincing smile.

           “N-no problem, Mr. Rogers,” you hurriedly assured him. A smirk stretched across his lips as he reached across the table, letting his hand rest on the back of yours.

           “I’ll never get used to people calling me that,” he chuckled. “How about you just call me Steve when we’re not in class?”

           Your eyes widened and you gulped, eyes flickering between his face and his hand, so warm against yours.

           “Wouldn’t that be, uh… unprofessional?” Your voice was higher pitched than usual as you said it, and it only made his smile grow.

           “Not if we kept it our little secret. You wouldn’t tell anyone, would you?”

           He arched his eyebrows questioningly at you, and for some reason you immediately shook your head.

           “No, I… I wouldn’t tell anyone, Prof- Steve.”

           Steve tried his best to keep his face neutral, but on the inside, he felt like fire works were going off in his head upon hearing you say his name. He knew it would sound sweet in your soft voice, and if it sounded good now, he couldn’t imagine how nice it would be to hear you moan it. One day, he promised himself. One day.

           You squirmed in your seat as Professor Ro- Steve, you told yourself, Steve – watched you. After a few seconds of silence you hesitantly leaned forward.

           “Steve?”

           He seemed to snap back to reality, and once more his ever-present smile was carefully arranged on his face.

           “Sorry, sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “I, uh… Zoned out there for a second.”

           “It’s ok,” you assured him. “I do that in your class all the time.”

           “Hey,” he laughed, “C’mon, that’s not nice.”

           You chuckled at your own joke and shrugged.

           “I’m just joking,” you assured him.

           “Oh, I don’t know,” he grinned. “Maybe that’s why you and Tina are always studying together.”

           You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but something stopped you from saying anything. Something about what he’d just said didn’t quite make sense, you told yourself.

           Steve furrowed his brows at the look on your face.

           “You ok over there, doll?”

           “Y-yeah,” you nodded rapidly, turning to collect your things as alarm bells kept going off in your head. “I’m fine. I actually just remembered something; I have to go.”

           “Go? So soon? I didn’t chase you off, did I?” His lips were lifted into a half-smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes as he watched you pack up your books.

           “Oh, no!” you were quick to exclaim. “No, not at all! I just… I just left one of my textbooks at home. I’m so stupid.”

           You finally slung your bag over your shoulder and made to leave, but all of a sudden there was an iron-like grip encircling your upper arm. You whipped your head around so quickly that for a moment your hair obscured your vision. When you shook it away, you saw Steve watching you with slightly narrowed eyes, his smirk still on his lips.

           For a moment, you just stared at him, feeling your heartbeat quicken as his thumb idly rubbed circles against your bicep.

           “Don’t call yourself stupid,” he finally muttered, letting his hand fall. “You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). I’m sure you’re just feeling a little…overwhelmed. From your classes, that is.”

           You nodded numbly, taking a small step backwards, taking yourself out of arm’s reach.

           “Y-yeah… That must be it. Sorry, Steve.”

           You turned and walked away, just barely catching his next few words.

           “No problem, hon.”

           You felt his eyes on you all the way out of the library, and the feeling didn’t go away until you fell asleep that night, the sound of his voice echoing in your ears and the line of his smile still etched behind your eyelids. Just before you drifted off, it suddenly came to you, the reason why you’d felt such a sudden need to leave him.

           How had he known that you were friends with Tina?

_____

           Steve sighed as he sank into his armchair, watching you fall asleep through his telescope; one day he would really have to talk to you about leaving your blinds open.

           Once he was sure you were asleep for the night, he looked around his small apartment, thinking about your little study session in the library. When you’d left in such a hurry, he’d felt angry at first, just barely able to keep himself from snapping at you to sit back down. It was rude to just run off like that, after all.

           But then he’d heard your heartbeat, pounding away in your soft, sweet chest, and he’d understood: you were nervous around him. The fact had made him so giddy that he’d excused your impolite behavior this time, letting you go and waiting a few minutes before following you back to your apartment. You were nervous around him, and he was willing to bet it was because of your feelings. He’d been watching you even closer than usual for the past month, watching how you’d squirm in your seat in class when your eyes met his, feeling your quickening pulse anytime his hand lingered on yours.

           You were starting to fall for him, he just knew it.

           He stood up from his armchair, wandering over to his tiny kitchen and grabbing a beer for himself. It would all be worth it someday – the tiny apartment he’d bought just to be closer to you, the time he’d dedicated to watching you each day, the expensive hidden bugs he’d planted in your house so he could listen in on your life. One day, when you were well and truly his, he would move out of this apartment and buy a home for the two of you, one big enough for the family you would have.

           He could see it even now as he settled back into his favorite chair, peeking through the telescope to glance at your sleeping form. One day, you would be able to quit your silly dream of journalism and be his wife, focusing on him and the children you would have. Oftentimes, Steve would imagine five or six little kids running around the house, even though he knew it was unreasonable to think of such things.

           You guys would stop at four, he’d decided.

           His cock twitched in his sweatpants at the idea of you round and swollen with his child. You would be such a good mother, such a good wife. You would be everything he’d ever wanted.

           With a sigh, he took his cock out, stroking it leisurely as he kept your eyes on your face, peaceful and oblivious as you slept on. He hoped you were dreaming about him, fantasizing about him the way he was fantasizing about you right now.

           He let out a soft moan at the idea of what your first time together would be like. You would lead him into your bedroom, hand in his as your hips swayed with your stride. He would sit on the edge of the bed as you stripped, watching as each delicious inch of your skin was slowly revealed to him. You would be wearing white, lacy lingerie, as pure and unsullied as your body.

           His hand moved faster on his cock as he imagined what you’d taste like, what it would be like to have his face buried between your legs, his tongue delving into your tight, wet heat as you bucked and squirmed against him. You’d pull his hair and moan his name, your voice getting higher and breathier the closer you got to your release.

           But he wouldn’t give it to you, oh no. Not with his tongue at least. He would pull away at the last second and hold you in his arms, his eyes not leaving yours for a second as he pushed his cock into you. He would go slow, at first. He knew it would be your first time, and the last thing he ever, ever wanted was to hurt you. A small part of him still wondered, though, what noise you would make as he pressed into you for the first time, how his cock would look coated in your cum and blood, how your face would contort in that strange mix of pleasure and pain as he took your innocence.

           All too soon, though, he was brought back to reality when he felt his cum coat the back of his hand, and as he came down from his release, he felt a familiar surge of disappointment that it wasn’t your pussy that was making him cum, that his were the only moans to be heard in his lonely apartment.

           He shoved his cock back into his pants and took one last look at you before standing up to go clean himself off. You were still sleeping, innocent and unaware of all the plans he had in store for you.

_______

           You debated skipping your next class with Steve. As each day went by, you got more and more paranoid. Whether you were at work, walking from class to class, or even at the grocery store, you kept thinking you saw Steve. You would catch a glimpse of blonde hair or broad shoulders and do a double-take, but every time you saw nothing out of the ordinary.

           Part of you still thought you were overreacting. He was your teacher, for god’s sake. And he was a former Avenger; if anything, you should’ve felt safer in his presence.

           When Thursday came around, you pushed down your desire to skip class and soldiered on, stopping for a coffee on the way and taking your seats just a few minutes before class began. The teacher you’d been so paranoid about was seated behind his desk, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he stared at his laptop.

           As you passed him on the way to your seat, his bright blue eyes darted upwards, and he gave you a soft smile like he always did when you walked into his classroom.

           “Good morning, (Y/N),” he greeted you. “That’s a nice sweater you got on today.”

           “Good morning, professor,” you’d murmured back, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Thank you.”

           You scurried over to your seat and plopped down into it. With all of your nerves, you’d almost forgotten to study for the test today. You’d only managed to cram in about half an hour last night; all of your other attempts at studying had found you without the ability to focus on the textbooks in front of you, mind wandering distractedly.

           “Alright, guys,” your professor finally sighed, standing up from his desk and grabbing a stack of papers off of it. “Before we get started with this test, do any of you have any questions?”

           When no one raised their hand, he nodded and started passing them out. As he set your test on your desk, you looked to see him wink at you, his lips curving upwards.

           “Good luck,” he whispered, and your cheeks heated as you slid the paper closer to yourself.

           After that, you made a decided effort not to make any more eye contact with your teacher as you started writing out your answers. Mr. Rogers had only ever given you guys essay questions, encouraging his students to write out their thought processes behind each of their answers. You kind of resented him for it; essay questions were always, without fail, tedious.

           The minutes ticked by slowly, the only sounds in the room behind the scratches of pens and pencils against papers and the occasional rustle when someone would flip their page over. You were amongst the first ones to finish, and when you dropped your test off with Steve at his desk, his hand once again found a way to linger against your own.

           Biting your lip, you drew your hand back quicker than usual, scurrying back to your desk and pulling a book out of your bag to read. Not that you actually read it; your eyes stayed steadily on one sentence for the next several minutes. When they finally did lift off of the page, they immediately found your teacher’s eyes, boring into you with that same dark intensity. You shivered as you snapped your gaze back to the page in front of you.

           When everyone had finished with their tests, Professor Rogers stood from his desk chair and cleared his throat, drawing all attention to himself.

           “Alright, good job guys. Feeling good about how you did?” There were a few grumbles and murmurings heard throughout the room; apparently you weren’t alone in your dislike of essay questions. “I’ll take that as a yes.

           “So I thought that I would cut today’s class short this week,” he went on, and all of you perked up at the idea of leaving early. “Before you all head out, though, I wanted to tell you about a new internship opportunity I’m spearheading.

           “For the time being, the details of the internship are being kept under wraps, but I can say that it involves travelling to New York City for a week and keeping a field journal while you’re there. What you’ll be doing in New York, unfortunately, can’t be disclosed right now.”

           You sat up straighter in your seat, interest piqued. A field journal? It sounded like whatever the internship was involved journalism skills. (Or scientific skills – you were pretty sure scientists kept field journals, at least. You shrugged that idea off pretty quickly, though; why would a history professor be in charge of a scientific internship?)

           “If you’re interested in applying for it, you’ll need to write an essay and turn it in to me at the beginning of next week’s class. The essay needs to be about a historic event that has somehow impacted your personal life, and it can be from any era of history, not just the one we’re learning about in class… Oh, and make it over 1,500 words in length. Any questions?”

           A few students raised their hands, but you tuned them out as you thought over what you would write about. That is, if you decided to apply for it. You still had no idea what the internship was for, after all. But, you reasoned, if it didn’t turn out to be something you were interested in, you could always say no, right?

           “…Alright, guys, you’re free to go. Email me if you have any questions about your test grades once they’re posted,” Steve finally said, and you distractedly started putting your things away, still thinking about what you would write about.

           When you finally stood up from your desk, you went to sling your backpack over your shoulder only to feel it hit against something. Or, if the small “oof” that had sounded upon impact was anything to go by, someone.

           Your hand flew up to your mouth when you turned and saw none other than your teacher standing there, having just been hit in the stomach by your bag – your very heavy bag, which contained no less than three textbooks inside of it.

           “Professor Rogers! Oh my god, I am so sorry-“ you started, but he waved it off with a good-natured grin.

           “Don’t worry about it, (Y/N),” he insisted, waving off your concern. “I’ve survived much worse, believe me.”

           You smiled a little at that and finished putting your bookbag over your shoulders.

           “Still, I’m sorry. I promise I’ve never assaulted any of my professors before.”

           “A likely story, Miss (Y/L/N),” he joked. “A likely story.”

The two of you were silent for a beat before he cleared his throat and gestured to you.

“I was just wanting to ask if you were planning on applying for that internship I mentioned.”

           “Oh, uh… Yeah, I was, actually. Why do you ask?”

           “Well… I know that I said I couldn’t go into what exactly the internship entails, but I did want to mention to you that it involves some journalism. That’s what you’re majoring in, right?”

           You nodded, feeling excited about your suspicions being correct.

           “It is, yeah! I thought it might have something to do with it when you mentioned field journaling,” you said. “Could I ask what the journaling would be about, or would that give too much away?”

           “It would give way too much away,” your teacher confirmed. “But trust me, I think it’ll be up your alley.”  

           Your mind turned it over, taking in Steve’s raised eyebrows and expectant smile. He seemed even more eager than you were about the internship.

           “Well, I’ll make sure to write my essay for it,” you assured him. “Just gotta think of what I’ll be writing about.” Your brain had already pondered writing about the Battle of New York; sure, it hadn’t even been ten years since it happened, but it was a historical event. And it was the main reason you’d wanted to pursue journalism, of course. But you almost died with embarrassment at the idea of writing an essay about something Captain America was involved in and then letting it be read by Captain America himself.

           As if reading your thoughts, Steve asked, “Any idea about what your subject will be on?”

           “Oh, uh…” you muttered, “I-I had one idea, but I don’t think I’m gonna go with it.”

           “Why not?”

           “Well…” You sighed, not able to meet his eyes as you confessed, “My immediate thought was the Battle of New York. I know you probably don’t like being reminded of it, but it just… It changed my world, the entire way I view things – it’s what made me want to be a journalist. After the invasion, the world – the universe, really – seemed so much bigger, and it made me want to tell stories about the reality we live in now rather than telling stories that are fiction.”

           You trailed off, looking back up at him sheepishly when you realized you were rambling. He was watching you with an intent look on his face, and for a second you were worried that the memory had upset him.

           “I’m so sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t mean-“

           “No, no,” he interrupted, shaking his head, “don’t be. I understand; it kinda turned my world upside down, too. I’d thought that waking up from the 40’s had been disorienting enough, but… When I saw aliens on the streets of the city I grew up in, it really made me feel like I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.”

           Your lips twitched into a half-smile.

           “Was that a Wizard of Oz reference?”

           “…It sure was,” Steve grinned. “Old fashioned, I know, but it was one of my favorites growing up.”

           “Me too,” you nodded. The man in front of you chuckled at that and you arched an eyebrow questioningly.

           “What is it?” you asked.

           “Nothing, it’s just…not too often that I have something from my childhood in common with someone else these days,” he answered.

           Your heart squeezed with compassion for the soldier in front of you, and without realizing what you were doing, you’d rested your hand on his shoulder. You didn’t know what to say, but you knew what you wanted to; you wanted to tell him that you were sorry for what he went through, that you would never be able to understand what it had been like for him but that you knew it had to have been hard. For a second, you regretted ever feeling uncomfortable around him; hadn’t he proven his entire life that he just wanted to do what was right?

           You said none of that, though, and after a second you let your hand slide down to your side.

           “I’ll have that essay ready for you next week,” you promised him, and with that you turned and left the room, not even feeling the weight of his stare on your back as you retreated.

           For several moments, Steve just stood there, glaring at the spot you’d been standing in and feeling himself fall for you even more. Because even though you hadn’t said any of what you’d been thinking, he was able to read it all in your eyes.

­­­­______

           You’d missed your study session with Tina that week again; for the next several days, when you weren’t working on homework for your other classes, you were working on your essay. You didn’t know why you felt such a sudden need to do well on it; something in you just couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing Steve. Plus, you’d never before written about your feelings on the Battle of New York and what it had meant to you.

           Even though Steve had said the word limit was 1,500, your final essay clocked in over 3,000 words, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to shorten it. You’d dedicated an entire week to making it perfect, and you finally got to the point where you didn’t want to change a single word.        

           When that fateful Thursday came around, you gave Steve a bright smile as you set your stapled essay onto his desk. Judging from the pile of papers resting on it, you hadn’t been the only one to apply for the internship, but you didn’t feel nervous about your odds; either you got in or you didn’t. You were content knowing you’d done your best.

           “You seem like you’re in a good mood,” Steve noticed, and you winked, actually fucking winked, at him, wondering a second later why you’d even done such a thing.

           “I’m just happy to be done with that essay,” you confessed, continuing on to your seat. “I spent all week perfecting it.”

           Steve grinned, knowing for a fact that you were telling the truth. He’d kept an ever-so-diligent eye on you since your last conversation, watching as you typed away on your laptop ceaselessly, feeling satisfied to know that all your work was for him. His heart soared this morning to see you so happy, and he’d felt butterflies, actual goddamn butterflies, in his chest when you’d winked at him.

           Class went by as usual, closing off with a list of chapters to be read and homework to be completed before the next class. In fact, the rest of your day went by uneventfully, and the only thing out of the ordinary came in the form of an email on Friday morning.

           You were standing in your kitchen, just wearing your most comfy pair of sweatpants and a tank top, sipping some coffee when you heard your phone ding with a notification. Opening up the email, you felt yourself gulp so fast that your coffee burned your throat as you read it.

           Dear (Y/N),

           Good morning! I know that this is last minute, but would you be willing to come see me in my office today at 11 am? I would like to discuss your essay with you. I’m in the C Building, third floor, Room 212.

           Sincerely,

                       Steve Rogers

           You looked up to the clock on your microwave and cursed when you saw what time it was – 10:34. You set your coffee down so quickly that some of it spilled on your pants as you rushed to your room, throwing on some jeans and a cream cable knit sweater before rushing to gather your phone, keys, and wallet. It usually only took you ten minutes to get to campus from your apartment, but the C Building was basically on the other side of the continent from student parking.

           You sped in your tiny, beat up car all the way to your college, power walking to the administrative building while huffing and puffing; this was the most exercise you’d gotten in a while, what with your busy schedule.

           After an agonizingly slow elevator ride, you reached the third floor and glanced at your phone as you passed by several offices – it was 10:58. You felt your lips spread into a grin.

           When you finally reached room 212, you hesitantly rose your fist to knock on its door, but before you could make contact it was opened from the inside. Steve looked down at you with a smile as you jumped.

           “Sorry! Didn’t mean to surprise you,” he said sheepishly. “I heard you walking up the hall.”

           “…Super hearing?” you guessed, and he nodded bashfully.

           He gestured for you to follow him into the room, your nose immediately flooded with the scent of something delicious. Your eyes fell on two bags from your favorite café on campus, and you could distinctly make out the smell of their turkey bacon wafting up from within.

           “I hope you don’t mind that I got some food for us,” he said, settling into the cushy office chair placed on the side of the desk opposite to you. “I know you haven’t eaten yet, and all I’ve had was coffee-“

           “How?” you interrupted him, feeling that old coil of unease wrap itself around you. “How did you know I haven’t eaten yet, that is?”

           Steve’s lips parted and his eyes widened for a split second after you’d asked, but he quickly schooled his features back into something more neutral.

           “Oh, sorry,” he chuckled. “I shouldn’t have said that I knew you hadn’t eaten; it was just a guess. I’m assuming I was right?”

           You warily nodded, slowly walking over to the chair he had situated in front of his desk. The door behind you was still cracked open, something that helped comfort you enough to reach into the nearest bag and pull out a to-go box.

           “I got you some turkey bacon and a cheese biscuit,” he said as you opened the package up. “And there’s some blueberry muffins in the other bag if you’d like any.”

           Your hands trembled as you took a bite of your bacon; it was the exact same order you usually got for breakfast.

           You were so focused on swallowing your bite of food that you jolted when you heard the man in front of you clear his throat. Your head popped up to see him watching you with an expectant face, tapping his fingertips on the desk beneath him.

           “U-um…” you stuttered, not sure of what he was expecting you to do or say.

           “It probably shouldn’t bother me, but… Back in my day, we thanked people when they got us something,” Steve shrugged, trying to pass off his words as nonchalant. You could see the way his fists were clenched, though, and it made your heartbeat quicken.

           “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry,” you exclaimed. “I, um… Thank you, Steve. For breakfast.”

           Your cheeks were on fire, and you felt your palms getting sweaty as you set down your piece of bacon; maybe you weren’t so hungry after all.

           Steve, though, just smiled gently and dug into the matching box of food he had placed before himself.

           “It’s ok, doll,” he hummed. “Bad manners are just a pet peeve of mine. Go ahead and eat.”

           The food felt like cardboard against your teeth as you hesitantly obeyed, still uncomfortable from how Steve had just spoken to you. You began to squirm in your chair as the minutes ticked on, the only sounds in his office coming from your quiet eating. Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, you cleared your throat and spoke so quietly that Steve probably wouldn’t have been able to hear you if not for his advanced hearing.

           “So, um… In your email you mentioned my essay?” you asked, sitting up straighter. “Did you want to talk with me about it today?”

           He smiled and set down the muffin he’d been working on, leaning his elbows against his desk and looking at you with a gleam in his eyes.

           “That’s right, (Y/N),” he answered, his face so bright and excited that it was almost easy to forget how harsh his tone had been just a minute ago. “I wanted you to be the first to know that you got the internship.”

           You blinked a few times, feeling surprised despite how hard you’d worked on your essay.

           “Really?” you asked, slowly starting to smile again. “I did?”

           “Of course,” Steve insisted. “Your essay was the best out of the bunch; it’s obvious that you want to be a writer.”

           “Thank you so much, sir,” you said, hurrying to say so after what had happened the last time you hadn’t been grateful for his kindness. “That…means a lot.”

           “Well, it’s true,” he assured you. “And now you get to know what the internship actually is; I know you were curious about it yesterday.”

           You nodded eagerly, watching as he leaned back in his chair.

           “A few months ago, I decided that I wanted to write an autobiography,” he began, thumbs twiddling in his lap. “I’ve never been much of a writer, but I figured that it would be nice to try and put my story down on paper. And I thought that it would be a great idea to go back to Brooklyn, where I grew up, and write down what’s changed about it and what’s the same as a sort of opening for the first chapter of my book.

           “That’s where you come in,” he added, pointing to you before setting his hands on his desk. “I wanted to go back to Brooklyn with someone who grew up in this century, someone who could help me take notes on that part of the city and who I could bounce ideas off of. After all, most of my readers would be people who have no clue about what the 40’s were like. I’d need someone to hear my ideas and tell me if they’re relevant and if they’d appeal to folks these days.”

           Your head was already turning with ideas on how he could link his past to his present in the beginning of his novel; the writer in you was salivating that the idea of this project, and you opened your mouth to tell Steve that you’d take the position.

           But then you hesitated, slowly closing your mouth again as you looked at the man seated across from you. You remembered every time he’d made you uncomfortable, every doubt you’d had about him, every time he’d made you squirm under his penetrative gaze. Would you be able to work with him one on one without feeling so nervous around him?

           “I’m…flattered that you think I’m a good fit for the job,” you started out, “And this is such an amazing opportunity, but… Um, would we the alone in Brooklyn or would there be other people with us?”

           Steve’s brows furrowed; clearly, he hadn’t expected that question.

           “Why would it matter?” he asked, voice hard as steel.

           “Well, I just… I wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong i-idea, you know?” you stammered. “I wouldn’t want them to think-“

           “No one would know,” he interrupted. “For obvious reasons, this project is being kept strictly confidential. You would have to sign a non-disclosure agreement before we left.”

           Your doubt must have read on your face, because Steve’s face softened, and he slowly stood up, walking around to stand in front of your chair.

           “Hey, (Y/N),” he said softly. “You know you don’t have to worry about me, right? I understand that you can be…shy, but think of this as a week off! I’ve already talked to the school board, and your absences with your other classes won’t be counted against you. We’ll go to the city, take our notes, maybe even have a little fun.

           “Whatya say?”

           You sighed and let your head droop, looking down to your clenched hands as they rested in your lap. You liked his words; they were kind and considerate, but they didn’t reach his eyes. No, they were dark, a stormy gray-ish blue as he watched you intently.

           “I… I’m still not sure,” you murmured weakly. “Could I have some time to-“

           “It’s a paid internship,” Steve interrupted you, his voice just barely edging to desperate. “And I would let you write the Forward to my novel. Think about it, (Y/N) – your name on the cover of ‘Captain America’s’,” he rolled his eyes at the name, “autobiography. You’ll be able to have any job you want when you graduate. A guaranteed successful start to your career.”

           You paused at that, eyes widening at the thought; he had a point. You’d be a famous writer even before the beginning of your writing career. And your bank account was laughable at the moment; you only had a part-time job at the college library, and it definitely didn’t pay much.

           Your head tilted up and your eyes met Steve’s, and he was wearing a smile that spoke volumes; he knew what you were going to say even before you said it.

           “I’ll do it.”

_______

           Steve let out a soft grunt as he came, his hand finally stilling on his cock before he tucked it back into his pants. You’d left his office hours ago, but his mind hadn’t stopped thinking of you since you’d said those three little words. He was coming close to the end of his plan; his reward was so close now. He could practically taste it – taste you.

           He wasn’t happy that he’d had to bribe you, of course. He hated the idea that you were just saying yes because of the money and success he could offer you. But if that’s what it took to make you his, then he would do it. It was worth it for your future children, for your future life.

           Letting out a soft sigh, he stood up, putting in his airpods and selecting his favorite app on his phone. With a press of a button, he could hear the sound of your soft humming as you turned the pages of your textbook. The camera in your living room showed you curled up on your couch, studying like the good little student you were. Soon you wouldn’t have to work so hard; Steve would give you everything you could ever want or need – a family, a house, a ring on your finger… He smiled at the thought.

           He shoved his phone into his back pocket, keeping his airpods in so he could listen to the sound of your humming as background noise. He grabbed his keys and headed out, tucking his laptop under his arm as he started walking out of the building. The two of you would leave for New York in a week, and he had so many preparations to make. His back-up plan still needed to be put in order, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to use it with you.

           You were different from all the others – sweet, obedient, smart… Whatever ended up happening, Steve knew that you would see things his way eventually. The two of you were meant to be, after all.

#precodechallenge #steve rogers #captain america imagine #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #professor!steve #professor!steve rogers #non-con #stalking #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine

[simsadventures]

After All: Epilogue

Summary: You try to help Bucky find a way to forgive himself for what happened.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of injuries, PTSD, smut (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THE PART BETWEEN WARNINGS), more fluff

Word Count: 3334

A/N: The final chapter is here. I’m so thankful to all of you who stuck with the whole thing, and I hope I made the story justice with this end. What was your favourite part? Did you enjoy the story? Feedback is gold you guys. Once again, thank you, and hopefully I’ll be seeing you in my other stories. xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

Mornings in Wakanda were marvellous. The way the sun hit the water and the warm rays shone through the whole country took your breath away. It was your 10th day there, and still, you weren’t used to the sight.

You were wrapped in a traditional dress that Shuri lent you, feeling a little more appropriately in the red and purple dress than you did in your leggings and tight shirt. You felt more in connection with everything around you like this, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to ever wear your clingy modern clothes.

You were watching the sheep around you, feasting on the fresh grass in front of the lake, and a sense of calmness overflew you. It was nice to just get away from the rushing city for a while and to just enjoy the beauties the nature was willing to show you.

You could hear rustling behind you, but you didn’t move. You knew exactly what, or rather who it was, and it just added to the calm growing inside you.

Bucky.

It’s been 10 days since you came and he seemed to have been doing much better. Not great, but definitely better.

The first few days, he would constantly search your face for any sign of fear or distress so that he could tell you that he wasn’t worth it and that he didn’t want to make you feel that way.

But when he found nothing over and over again, the realisation dawned on him. You really weren’t going anywhere, despite everything that happened.

It wasn’t just that he attacked you as the Winter Soldier, although that still kept him up some nights. It was all the time before that when he hurt you just by being himself, by trusting someone he shouldn’t have and almost losing one of the most important people in his life. He couldn’t even imagine life without you anymore, and the thought always made a cold shiver run down his spine.

He walked towards you from his, or maybe your common, hut but stopped a few feet away. Even though he would allow you two to spend your time together, he still kept some distance from you.

It bothered you, but you knew you had to give him time to gather his mind and to finally understand and fully accept that you were not going to leave, nor were you afraid of him. But your patience was wearing thin.

He even asked Shuri to give him another mattress so that he could sleep under the perfectly fine queen-sized bed, in case anything happened and you needed some time to escape him, or whatever it was he said.

And you were getting tired of his hesitations and weird excuses.

“Morning, Y/N. How did you sleep?” He asked, sheepishly from somewhere behind you.

You sighed and turned around to be greeted with a sight to see indeed. Bucky was also wrapped in traditional clothing, his hair in half-up-half-down, flowing around his face as the breeze went into them.

“I would’ve slept better if you were in bed with me, but, otherwise, yeah, not bad, I guess,” you shrugged and turned to face the lake again. You could hear a heavy sigh coming from Bucky’s mouth before you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You wanted to lean into his touch, to marvel at the feeling of his skin touching yours, but you didn’t have time to do it. As soon as Bucky touched you, he withdrew the hand and apologised only to walk to the sheep herd nearby.

You head dropped to your chest, and you tried hard not to break into crying. You really wanted to be the patient woman, who waits on her man during everything, but Bucky was giving you very little to have at least some kind of hope.

You knew he was working hard every day with Shuri, to be able to get the Winter Soldier out of his brain, so that what happened in New York could never happen again.

Today, Shuri asked you to come to the training, because she thought she discovered something important.

You waited for Bucky to tend to the sheep just like he did every morning before you two walked down to the palace where Shuri’s laboratory was. On the way there, you only exchanged pleasantries about the night and this morning, and despite you wanting to talk about the elephant in the room, the palace came in the view much sooner than you expected.

Shuri was cheery as ever, showing you around, and letting you try some of her newest inventions, and you, ever the scientist, couldn’t get enough of it. No offence to Tony and his gadgets, but this Wakandian technology was truly something else.

Bucky was seated on a bed, with several electrodes and other little stickers stuck to his forehead, his chest and his arms, taking note on everything that was happening in his body.

“Y/N, could you come here for a second?” Shuri asked with a smile on her lips, but her eyes were watching something on a screen in front of her.

You just nodded and walked to them, not really getting why you had to be there when Bucky was obviously against it if the constant protest was something you could judge it by. But Shuri paid him no mind, and so you wouldn’t either.

“White Wolf, I’m going to say few of the trigger words, but, don’t worry, I’m not gonna go through it all. We’ve done this before, I just need to see your brain’s reaction to them once again, and then try something new to block it. Alright?”

Bucky just grunted, his head dropped to his chest, his chest heaving.

You wanted to step closer to him and soothe him, but because this whole time in Wakanda, he scarcely ever touched you willingly, you didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable.

“Longing,” Shuri murmured in Russian, and you could see the screen in Shuri’s hand lighting up with a reaction in his frontal and temporal lobe. Shuri smirked, but the result obviously wasn’t as significant as she wanted, so she continued.

 “Rusted,” another murmur, other lights on the screen, this time a little brighter. You could see the reaction now on Bucky too. He was still himself, you could tell that much, but his pupils were slightly dilated, his fists now clenched.

But still, you were feeling no fear. You couldn’t understand it yourself, he almost killed you at one point in time, but here you were, calm as ever, patiently waiting what would happen next.

“Now, Y/N,” Shuri whispered so low you knew she tried to not let Bucky hear it. “I want you to step in front of him and touch his face. If he looks up at you, I want you to talk to him. Anything will do, really, I just need him to hear your voice. Do you understand?” You nodded, not even giving her a glance, and you walked to Bucky.

His gaze was still set on the floor, even when you were mere inches from him.

You did exactly as Shuri asked you, stretching your arm so that he could see it and lightly touching his right cheek. You could feel Bucky taking a ragged breath before his eyes snapped to your face.

You smiled lightly, biting your lower lip in the process because you weren’t really sure of what to tell him. You shook your mind and tried not to be stupid. Shuri told you to talk about anything, so you were gonna do just that.

“I still think about our date at the entertainment park. I think it was the most beautiful day in my life, just us and our friends, having so much fun and being together somewhere other than the compound. I’m actually sorry I didn’t bring the damn bear with me, so we could have a bit of the day here with us. But it’s ok, we’re together, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You finished and had to fight the urge to start crying, mainly because how much you actually loved the man sitting in front you, looking at you like you fell out of the sky.

“Hah! I knew it! Damn, I’m so good at it, I should actually make my brother pay me for this,” Shuri screeched from behind you, and it made both you and Bucky jump up a little.  

You looked at her confusedly, not really understanding what she was getting at.

“Oh, right, sorry. So, Sergeant Barnes here told me all he could remember from the last attack, and the more we talked about it, the more details came to light. He told me that he didn’t know you, but he didn’t feel the urge to kill you as much as he did with other people, and that his brain actually fought the programming in his brain when you were telling him about your feelings.

And from what I can tell, you might be the key to break it all, Y/N. His brain fights itself when you talk to him about things you two did, but I bet even if you told him the weather forecast, he’d still do that.

Sergeant Barnes, you will be just fine, I can promise you that. We will just have to work with Y/N here, to ensure that your brain won’t even go into that mode. It will take some time, but I’m confident to say I found a way to erase the Winter Soldier forever.”

You were stunned, to say the least. Your eyes were bulging, threatening to fall out of the sockets, and your mouth was hanging open.

“What if I hurt her again, just by her being anywhere near me during the process?” Bucky said, his tone harsh.

Shuri scoffed and unplugged him from all the machines monitoring him.

“You won’t hurt the woman you love, Sergeant, but if you do not wish to be better forever, it’s your call.”

Bucky sighed and opened his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“You know what? I’m tired of this, Bucky. I don’t know how I should say this, over and over again, but I’m not scared of you, I trust you, and I love you, you idiot. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if you keep pushing me away. I am not going anywhere, try and get it through that thick skull of yours. Let me know when it reaches your brain, I’ll be in the hut till then,” you huffed out and marched out of there as fast as possible.

Maybe you could’ve been more patient, but you were done playing by his rules. He needed to realise a few things if the two of you should work out.

It was a good few hours before Bucky came to your shared space, and even though you knew he was there, you weren’t willing to give him your attention. He would actually have to do something for it this time. You were done being the one always chasing him to give you a side glance if you were lucky, that was.

“I am an idiot, aren’t I?” Bucky murmured from the door, and you just hummed in agreement, still not looking at him, but looking at the primitive stove in front of you, trying to make a corn mash for dinner.

“It’s just… I’m so scared of hurting you again, that I thought it would be again if I didn’t have the chance to do so.”

You now raised your eyebrow, turning to face him.

“I swear to God, Bucky, if you want to break up with me right now, I’m gonna kick your ass harder than any alien or super-soldier ever did!”

A smile tugged on his lips, and he took a step closer to you.

“I know, baby. I’m saying what I wanted to do by walking away from New York and running here. There’s always this small voice, telling me that you must hate me for what I did to you, but every time I look at you, all I can see is the love and patience you have with me, and I don’t really get it, you know? But no more of that, if what you said in the lab is true, that is.”

“Everything I said in there was true, Bucky. And because I know which part you have in mind, Imma tell you again. I love you, you moron. And if you let me, I’m gonna love you for a very, very long time.”

Tears were shining in Bucky’s eyes, and before you could say anything more, his lips were on yours. His right hand found its way to your hair, while his metal arm was squeezing your hip, pulling you unbelievably close to him, desperate to feel you against him.

The kiss was urgent, and when he pulled your hair a little, you moaned into it. This gave Bucky the time to slip his tongue between your lips, dancing with your tongue effortlessly. You were both panting, and you knew you couldn’t go much longer without oxygen, but, at the same time, you didn’t want to let him go.

Bucky was probably feeling the same, because the second his lips left yours, he drew in a breath, but still kissing your skin on your neck, not willing to part from you when he finally decided to give in, and love you like he should this whole time.

Warning: smut starting

You were a mowing mess by the time he reached your exposed collarbone. You’ve been wanting this for so long, that you could hardly wait to finally consummate your relationship.

Bucky was gripping and groping every part of your body he could reach, biting and nipping at your skin with his teeth, determined to make up for the lost time.

He pulled down your dress, only to reveal you were going bra-less, and that you were wearing very flimsy lace panties. He growled under his breath, seeing you naked for the first time, and his cock gave an excited tug in his sarong. You bit your lower lip and freed him from the confines of his clothes.

As the dress pooled around his ankles, you looked up, to see his cock standing proudly almost against his stomach, pre-cum already leaking out of it. You licked your mouth absentmindedly, but before you could kneel in front of him to taste him, Bucky pushed you on the bed.

“Today is about you, my love. I’ve been an idiot, and I need to show you just how sorry I am for putting you through all that. Let me make the woman I love feel good, please,” he pleaded, his hands groping your breasts, pinching your nipples every few second.

“The woman you love, huh?” You asked, a smirk playing on your lips.

Bucky laughed and kissed the valley between your breasts. “Hell yeah, she’s kinda the only person I can picture myself growing old with, you know?”

You feigned shock, trying to suppress a chuckle. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re already kind of old, baby. I’m not sure what you really think, but you’re near your 100.”

Bucky bit beneath your navel to shut you up, and before you could stop him, he lightly kissed the pink scar on your left side, left behind after Bucky’s knife penetrated your body.

Your fingers played with his hair, trying to steer his attention from the scar to pretty much anywhere else, but it wasn’t working.

He looked at you with hooded eyes and smiled at you sadly.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

And before you could make sure he was ok, he was between your thighs, and he was nuzzling his face in your heat. The first touch of his tongue with your slit was almost ecstatic. You arched up, moaning his name loudly, not caring that the huts were anything but sound-proof and that the part of the village in which you were staying would have a pretty good idea of what the two of you were doing.

He then dived right in, switching between sucking your swollen bud and penetrating you with his tongue. He then put two of his fingers to your entrance, gathering the slick before he entered you, pumping them in and out of you rhythmically. It only took him few minutes to have you writhing underneath him, begging him for release.

And he granted you your wish by sucking in your clit and rubbing over and over your G-spot until you were seeing stars.

Bucky gave you few kitten licks, marvelling at the sight of your trembling legs and squeezing pussy, still pulsing from the strength of your orgasm.

Bucky kissed back up to your mouth, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. You intertwined your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you, to feel his chest rub against your nipples. Your whole body was extremely sensitive, but you still needed more.

“Please, Bucky. I need you,” you moaned into his mouth.

“I know, baby. I’ve got you, I promise.”

With that said, he lined his the blunt of his cock with your entrance pushing into you, few inches at a time, letting your body adjust to his size. You were gasping and gripping his biceps in your hands, both from the slight pain you were feeling and from the pleasure.

When Bucky could feel you pussy relaxing, he gave you a tentative thrust, earning a loud gasp from your mouth.

After that, the only sounds that could be heard in the one-room hut were your gasps, Bucky’s growls, and the slapping of his pelvis hitting your pussy.

With each thrust, Bucky’s pelvic bone touched your clit, sending sparkles right to your pussy, which then squeezed Bucky like a vice.

Bucky was murmuring words of adoration into your ear, and when he mumbled I love you over and over again, it finally did the deed, and you came undone underneath him.

When he felt the pulses jolting through your pussy, he bit your shoulder ever so lightly and came with a shout, painting your walls with his seed.

He was kissing all over your face, enjoying the closeness you two shared.

Warning ending

“I’m never letting you go, not out of this bed, not out of my life,” he whispered when he finally got back his voice from the ecstasy, laying on his back, with you draped over him.

“Good, ‘cause I wouldn’t go even if you asked me,” you smirked, and Bucky kissed the crown of your head.

“But your job is in New York? Won’t you miss it?”

You looked up at him and smiled at his naivety. “First of all, Tony told me my job would wait for me, no matter how long we decided to spend here. Secondly, Shuri actually asked me to come and help her with some stuff in her lab, so I can still do my inventions here. But most importantly, it’s just a job, Bucky. I can find any job in the world, as long as I have you.”

Bucky only squeezed your shoulder in response, and you didn’t even have to look to know he was being emotional, and he didn’t have words to express his feelings. But you didn’t need words. He was all you ever wanted, and if you were in Wakanda, New York, or a different planet, you didn’t care.

After all, you two were just stronger together, and you were glad Bucky finally realised it. It would be a good life by his side, you were sure of it.

You eyes were growing heavy, and your bright future let you fall into the peaceful slumber easily. Especially when Bucky was in bed with you, after all this time.

THE END

After All:

@iheartsebastianstan​ @readermia​ @kolakube9​ @ibookishqueen​ @thewintersoldierswifu @emogril​ @the-melancholyfeels​ @pinkleopardss​ @supervengerslock​ @the-soulofdevil​ @jessyballet​  @bxrnsfeyson​ @38leticia​ @sparkling-gayyyy​ @deansbbysblog​ @lustgardn​ @wantingtobekorra​ @backflip-into-a-garbage-can @thefifthmaraud3r​ @calwitch​ @lovinmcu​ @itsjaybro16​

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten​ @paradisiacalsparks​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @owlyannah​ @lassini​ @s-trawberryv-eins​ @reniescarlett​

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @lumar014​ @ptrs-prkrs​

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes smut #avengers #avengers fanfiction #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #wakanda #after all #epilogue #series #multiple chapters #smut #fluff #the winter soldier #the winter solider fanfiction #the winter solider x reader #the white wolf #the end

[gertstarlight]

Hournite + 17 (a kiss to distract)

you requested this forever ago 😬 i’m sorry it’s sooo late

summary:  Soft clash of their lovestruck smiles made the clattering from the kitchen disappear. Wait. The kitchen. But Rick… he was right here so maybe those two unsupervised teens in the kitchen couldn’t mess up too badly.

Festive smiles and an excited buzz of summer thrill rang through the air as the sun poured into the Chapel house’s messy kitchen. The members of the JSA worked in well-oiled harmony to accomplish their latest mission: “the greatest ever coolest cake my parents have ever seen,” squealed the star-spangled leader of the team.

“Don’t you think you’re setting the bar a little too high, Court?” Yolanda questions with a laugh.

“Mr.Dugan and mrs.Whitmo- I mean Pat and Barbara!” Beth corrects with her classic smile after a nudging look from Courtney, “they deserve the world’s greatest coolest cake ever.”

“It’s the greatest EVER coolest cake, Beth” corrects the amused short blonde.

“Uh Beth, timer!” Rick’s informative tone alerts Beth as he fidgets with a small dial on the oven.

A light touch from her hand on his, softens the confused emotion he wore for the last few agonizing minutes, trying to fight her oven to preheat. Complicated engines and futuristic goggles were an easy task but his girlfriend’s kitchen stove was a whole other source of bewilderment. Rick shifted aside to let Beth work the one job he had, spin a knob and wait for the ding. The easiest job and somehow he still couldn’t manage. Not on purpose of course. He would never mess up a slight task just to get close to her. Of course he wouldn’t.

“How is he making a move on someone he’s already dating?” Yolanda chuckled while holding the bowl steady as Courtney mixed the batter.

“That's what I was thinking!” whispered Courtney, she straightened her posture when she saw Beth approaching.

“Okay, the oven is all set but I’m gonna go grab my new mitts!” Beth’s optimism boomed through the kitchen.

Giving her a few affirmative responses, the others return to their baking while Beth strolls up to her room. As Rick starts laying out baking pans, Courtney and Yolanda snicker as they try to smooth out the batter. Getting a little lost in the fun of inside jokes and Courtney’s sweet humming quickened Yolanda’s pulse. The filled bowl in her hands shakes out of control as the batter spirals on to the counter.

This definitely sets them back a full 4 hours and although Beth wasn’t the type to kill, she might consider it after walking into the mess Courtney and Yolanda just made. Rick’s mind spirals as he sees the batter splattered across the counter start to drip on the floor.

Yolanda questions shyly, “how long do we have before Beth finds out?”

“She won’t! Clean this up while I go take care of Beth,” he instructs as Courtney chuckles to herself while Yolanda responds, “we can get it cleaned in about 20 minutes, or 30.”

“Fine but just figure it out!”

Slightly cursing under his breath, Rick freaks out realizing that stubborn Beth would insist on cleaning up all on her own. He rushes upstairs and knocks on her open door.

“Rick what are you doing up here?”

“Just got bored of watching Court try to woo Yolanda and wanted to stay up here for a while” Rick could hear the pace of his heart start to shake his voice.

“Well I’m headed to the kitchen anyways” Beth announced, oblivious to the mess.

“WAIT, BETH NO!” he panics.

Maybe Beth was a bit more intuitive than she gave herself credit for. If the slight change of tone in his voice could raise her suspicions then she was definitely more intuitive than she thought. Watching her boyfriend nervously swing his head around the room, she realizes he’s hiding something.

“We should just hang out here,” she hears the nervous twitch in his voice. Oh he’s definitely hiding something.

She feels his hand tug on to hers as her feet shuffle closer to his. Worries of his not-so-well hidden secret washes away as he pulls her in. Their faces tilted towards each other, as she closed the few inches of unnecessary space between their lips. Soft clash of their lovestruck smiles made the clattering from the kitchen disappear. Wait. The kitchen. But Rick… he was right here so maybe those two unsupervised teens in the kitchen couldn’t mess up too badly.

Melting into the kiss, he feels the front of his shirt get curled in her hand as they shuffle towards the bed. What started as a calculated plan turns into something he knows they shouldn’t be doing but it's very easy to get lost in the romantic haze of Beth’s lips. Rick knows this was never the plan however, the direction this was heading towards wasn’t bad either. All his mental reasoning gets tossed aside.

Losing track of time to hop around the idea of getting into more. They both reached this far before and they both know what comes after.

“Rick we can’t, not right now,” Beth sloppily mumbles since her mind is occupied at the moment.

He separates their lips to stutter an understanding disappointment.

“Courtney and Yolanda are downstairs and I don’t want them getting suspicious.”

“Yeah, they don’t need to start asking questions about us,” he said those words knowing she wasn’t willing to break their close proximity either. Maybe kissing her was more enticing than baking the coolest cake in the galaxy.

“Okay, thirty minutes is clearly not the same for them as it is for us,” sasses Courtney, drying off the last kitchen towel.

“Wait, I hear them coming down the stairs!”

“Yolanda, your senses are getting more cat-like and you’re not even wearing your suit, that’s so cool,”

Rushing down the stairs, Beth and Rick haphazardly enter the kitchen where the two girls stood.

“Um Beth, your shirt is buttoned up wrong,” Yolanda snickers as Courtney laughs into her shoulder.

“Also Rick is that a-“ Beth hushes Courtney with a quick stare as she glanced at Rick's collarbone.

“OKAY,” she declares to distract the others from the obvious elephant in the room, “we should get baking!”

#hournite #hournite fics #stargirl #stuff i wrote

[ameth18blog]

Unexpected Encounters. Chapter 10: The Search (Part 4)

Finnick is in the west of the city, unlike the others he preferred to do his search alone. At the moment he was in a bar having a few drinks that he was curious to try, since he had heard of them from Jack when they were on the plane on their way to Japan. Even before all the events happened, he and Nick had made a bet on who would last the longest drinking the alcoholic beverages that would come to this country. They were supposedly stronger than the ones sold on Zootopia. Jack and Judy weren't happy with the bet the two of them made, but Finnick knew they couldn't stop him or Nick.

Even obviously he had to search for beings from other universes, he thought to take a little break, since he had a suspicion that they would not take long to appear. Even if he didn't know it, it wouldn't take long for them to appear before him.

So far he had had four glasses: Sake Honjozo, Sake Junmai, Ji-zake and Nigori-zake. As he tasted them he realized that they tasted very different from other things he had tasted in his entire life. He would have asked for more glasses of each, but he didn't have enough money with him at the time. And he aside he knew that he shouldn't waste much time, since he still had a great perimeter to cover.

But just before he got up, three beings who seemed travelers because of the way they were dressed entered the bar.

The first was a tall yellow fox. His nose was black as were his eyes. He wore a light blue long-sleeved shirt, green pants and was completely barefoot. He wore a type of cape that had stripes of two different shades of blue on the outside, while on the inside it was purple. Also on his head he wore a cream-colored flat hat that had two holes so that he could stick his ears out. Also this hat had a rope that went towards the lower part of the fox's head, so that it could be held and did not fall off its head or fly off.

The other two beings were twin slightly smaller brown boars, which only reached the fox's waist in height. They wore open orange jackets, although they were shirtless under the jackets, they wore green pants and both were barefoot. Both wild boars carried on their backs giant green bags with swirl patterns, tied around their necks. The big physical difference between the two wild boars is that one had a spot on its right cheek, while the other did not.

They both walked over to the counter, right next to where Finnick was sitting.

"Sorry sir, but you can not bring children to this place" said the manager of the bar.

"Oh, don't worry about that, despite their sizes, they are adults" said the fox.

After that, both wild boars took out some identifications that were proof that they were adults.

"My apologies" said the bar manager bowing his head. "What do you want me to serve you?"

"A Sake Honjozo for the three of us" said the fox.

"I'll bring them to you right away" said the bar manager, leaving.

"Does that happen to you very often? Finnick asked looking at the fox and the two wild boars.

"Ummm, what thing?" asked the fox when he saw that they had asked him a question.

"I meant if their companions are mistaken for children when they see them," Finnick said.

"Oh yes, several times that has happened to us" said the fox.

"Sometimes it is annoying," said one of the boars.

"But at other times it is beneficial," said the other boar.

"Seriously?" asked the fennec fox.

"Yes, sometimes we manage to get food and money thanks to that" said the fox.

"Wow, the world is small. I do the same" said the fennec fox.

"Seriously?" the twin wild boars asked.

"Yes, where I come from I have a method to deceive people, I wear an elephant costume and I keep quiet at all times so that they feel sorry for me and give me money and food," said Finnick.

"Wow, it's a coincidence, we do the same" said one of the boars.

"Only we don't need to dress up for that," said the other boar.

At that moment the conversation stopped momentarily when the bar manager handed their drinks to the fox and the two wild boars. After that, he left his clients to continue his work.

"So where are you from?" asked the fox.

"I come from the United States, specifically from the city of Zootopia, what about you?" asked the fennec fox.

"We are from this country. We don't have a fixed home, since we travel so that I can achieve my goal" said the fox.

"And what would it be?" the fennec fox was curious.

"Well, my goal is to get a wife, have my own castle and be the king of pranks" said the fox.

"Wow, that's thinking big. What are their names?" said the fennec fox.

"My name is Zorori. But I'm also known as Kaiketsu Zorori" said the fox.

"My name is Ishishi" said one of the boars.

"And I'm Noshishi" said the boar with the mole on his right cheek.

"My name is Finnick" said the fennec fox introducing himself with the fox and the two wild boars.

"And then Finnick, how did you get here?" Zorori asked.

"Oh well, I have a friend who works for an agency where they gave him vacations to any place in the world that he chose and since he was once here in Japan, he wanted to come visit again. And since they gave him six tickets, he gave me one so I could come with him," Finnick replied.

"Wow, you are very lucky with that. Although we are from this country, the way we got to this city was somewhat unusual, but since we have experienced other things like that, it didn't seem strange to us" said Zorori.

"Unusual?" Finnick asked.

"Yes, it was because of a white light that appeared suddenly" Ishishi and Noshishi said in unison.

"White light?" Finnick told himself as he lowered his head and saw that the communicator on his wrist was blinking. He hadn't noticed when he first started blinking. These were the ones he was looking for and how ironic that he found them in a bar.

"Tell me, have you three been in this city for 3 months?" asked the fennec fox.

"Yes, why do you ask?" asked the fox.

"Well, because I partly know what that white light was," Finnick replied.

"You know that?" asked one of the wild boars.

"Could you tell us?" asked the other boar.

Finnick told them about Chaos Emeralds, Chaos Control, and Dr. Eggman. He told them everything he knew.

"Wow, this sounds like a great adventure you are living," said Zorori.

"Isn't that strange to you?" Finnick asked.

"No, as I said before, we have been through unusual situations" said Zorori.

"For example, we die once when and on that journey we visit both heaven and hell. After fixing a misunderstanding we came back to life" said Ishishi.

"Once we had to find a type of fairies known as Najō to restore color to a magical forest," Noshishi said.

"And once we had to return an electric eel that had been stolen from a forest inhabited by ghosts," Zorori said.

"Wow. They look like children's book adventures," said Finnick.

"Yes, we know. But we are used to that by now" said the fox.

"And what were they doing when chaos control brought them into this universe?" asked the fennec fox.

"Well, we were having a picnic with some old acquaintances. It was a normal day for us like any other" said Zorori.

"But suddenly a fairly strong wind began to blow. We had three friends in that meeting who are magicians, but they said it had nothing to do with magic" Ishishi said.

"It was at that moment that that white light appeared that began to envelop us. Our magician friends used their magic to create a force field to prevent the effects of that light from affecting us" Noshishi said.

"Although the force field didn't work, it does prevent us from being separated, since when we woke up we were together, on top of the Tokyo tower. You can imagine how hard it was for all of us to go down" said the fox.

"So there are more besides you in this city?" asked the fennec fox.

"Yes, you want to meet them" asked one of the boars.

"Of course, this concerns them as well" said the fennec fox.

"It's okay. We will take you with them" said the other boar.

After finishing their drinks and paying for them, the 4 left the bar in the direction of a nearby area of the city.

...

Once they arrived, it was a building that had an inspiration in castles from the Middle Ages, it was located outside the city in the middle of a forest.

"Amazing, nice place. Who owns this building?" asked Finnick.

"The owners are a prince and a princess that we have known for a few years" replied Zorori.

"Wait, there was no prime minister in Japan."

"Yes there is, but in the section where we live there are royal families who have granted them permission to govern certain areas."

"Definitely your life seems to come from children's books."

Once they entered and after having passed through several corridors that reminded Finnick of the fairy tales that he read to Nicole and Jerry when he cared for them while Nick, Judy and Jack went out to work. Finally they came to a door that after opening it gave way to a quite luxurious living room with furniture and decorations that definitely made Finnick feel as if he had traveled back in time to the Middle Ages.

In the room there was a strange mix of inhabitants of different types:

There was a black panther with pink cheeks and a light brown cat with dark brown hair who were a prince and a princess, since each wore their respective crowns and clothes that gave away the status to which they belonged.

There were two others who had traveler-like clothing albeit with a more western attire. One was tall, had brown fur and yellow hair. The other was shorter and with an orange-brown fur.

There were three others who had wizard robes. Since the two girls had witch-like clothes, while the boy had clothes more similar to that of a sorcerer. One of the girls was dressed in white and the other in magenta. While the boy wore black. For some reason each one carried a broom in one of their hands.

There were two that looked interesting. One looked like a plush doll that could be seen in any cream colored children's cartoon with a small red antenna and no nose. The other had the look of a ghost that had a kind of white scarf around its neck.

Seeing all of them Finnick for a moment thought that he was amazed by the drinks he had had, since he seemed to have been involved in a fairy tale, where there were princes, princesses, adventurers, witches, sorcerers, strange creatures and ghosts. He was silent for a few seconds.

Seeing the surprised reaction, Zorori decided to introduce them.

"Guys, I introduced you to Finnick. We met him in a bar and he gave us an explanation of how we ended up in this city, right?" said the fox.

Coming out of his shocked reaction, he told them the story of what had happened and how they ended up in this city. Once he finished telling this to beings he had just met, they came forward.

The prince and princess introduced themselves as Arthur and Elzie. The two travelers introduced themselves as Gaon and Pepero. The sorcerer introduced himself as Roger. The witches who happened to be sisters introduced themselves as Milly and Nelly. The creature introduced itself as Najō. While the ghost introduced himself as Puppe.

Once the introductions were over, Finnick's communicator suddenly began to ring.

"Hi, this is Finnick. Oh Nick, what's up? Cool. I, too, have just found an interesting group. Yes, I can take them with me. See you later".

"Who called?" Zorori asked.

"He was a friend. I wanted to ask all of you if you could join me, since the ones who sent me to look for you want to talk to you" said Finnick.

"They all looked at each other and Zorori answered for all of them "Sure we can go with you."

"Good, but I think that before going out I think they should change their clothes, since with those clothes they wear they will attract a lot of attention among the inhabitants of the city."

When they saw each other they realized that it was true. After waiting a few minutes, everyone was ready. Before leaving, Najō hid inside a backpack and Puppe became invisible as they would definitely attract attention if anyone saw them.

Once they left the building, they returned to the city and headed in the direction of Gori's apartment to meet up with everyone else.

#writing #creative writing #fanfic #fanfiction #my wrtitng #zootopia #Zootopia fanfic #zoophobia #zoophobia fanfic #aggretsuko #sonic the hedgehog #jack savage #nick wilde #Judy hopps #retsuko #haida #sonic #amy rose

[connorandersons-blog]

Little Connor!

Rating: General     Word count: 2,449       Warnings: None Ship: Connor/RK900 (Nines), RK1700     Summary: Nines scans Connor and tilts his head just slightly. "Connor?"

Connor pulls the blanket around him tighter but holds Nines's gaze. Nines's LED flashes yellow before going back to blue.

"So, are you staying or going?" Hank asks, crossing his arms. Nines blinks and looks between Hank and Connor, he can't discern any emotions on his face. That was pretty common but generally, it would be less anxiety-inducing than it was now.

There was a long pause where Connor was sure Nines would leave, then he nodded.

DO NOT SEXUALIZE THIS! This is completely non-sexual and the age regression in this is used as a coping method (something I do myself)

That being said, hope you enjoy!

~Text Messages~ Bold: Hank Italicized: RK900/Nines

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

Connor sat on the ground a soft blanket over his shoulders as he played with the bead maze. Hank had turned on Finding Nemo (which he had watched exactly 78 times already) while he made himself dinner.

Connor was content to just sit there but then Hank's phone started to ring, bringing him out of his headspace just slightly. Hank's phone ringing almost always meant a new case, and that meant Connor had to go back to his mature, adult headspace.

"Hello? Uh, yeah… no, it's fine, give me like thirty minutes, ok? No, yeah… yeah, I know. Alright, see you then." Hank said, sighing and glancing over at Connor.

Sumo slowly got up from his spot at Connor's side and went over to Hank. Connor whined and grabby hands at him but pouted when Sumo stayed near Hank.

"Hey kiddo, I need to go, Gavin needs me," Hank says, crouching down in front of him. Connor pouted again, but at least it wasn't a case. This was their day off and they both wanted to spend it at home, together.

Connor had been spending lots of time with Nines, and Hank had been spending time with Gavin. So this was their day to spend together.

Connor had woken up to thirium pancakes and all of his toys set out. Connor had grinned so widely his cheeks ached.

He easily slipped into headspace as he colored after breakfast, handing the finished product to Hank.

Hank had grinned, telling him how good it looked before putting it on the fridge.

"I can call Nines, I'm sure he'd love to take care of you," Hank suggested, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Connor quickly shook his head. "Nuh! He'll hate me." He mumbled, fiddling with his blanket.

He had wanted to bring this up with Nines but his fear of it going poorly held him back. They had been dating for almost a year now and he didn't want to ruin it because he couldn't cope like a normal android.

"Kiddo, he won't hate you. He looks at you like you hung the fucking sun. You could murder someone and he'd just help you get rid of the body." Hank said, ruffling Connor's hair.

Connor glanced down at his blanket and toys. It was rare that he got the chance to do this with how hectic his life had been. He could just play alone but it was always better and easier to stay in his headspace with Hank around.

Hank sighed and looked at Connor. "Look, I'd prefer if someone was with you but I can leave you alone. Nines could come here or you could go to him."

Connor bit at the inside of his cheek as he thought. He'd definitely prefer to have this conversation when he's not in his headspace but, maybe it would be better for Nines to see it himself.

He slowly nods his head, looking up at Hank. Hank smiles and ruffles his hair again before standing. "I'll call Nines and ask him to come over."

Conner nods and goes back to playing but this time it's more half-hearted. He didn't listen when Hank made the call, just watched the movie.

His mind was racing with thoughts of what could happen. There was the possibility Nines would get here, take one look at Connor and break up with him.

Or, Nines could pretend to be ok with it and then grow to resent him. That was definitely worse than the first option.

There was the option that Nines accepted it but didn't want to be involved with this part of him, which Connor would understand.

Then there was the incredibly small chance that Nines would be fine with it, and want to be a part of this side of him.

Of course, he'd love for Nines to at least be ok to sit with him, but if he wasn't then he'd be fine. He had to be. He needed this, but he also wanted Nines. He wanted Nines to accept him, wanted Nines to accept all of him.

Sometime later there was a knock at the door and Connor straightened up slightly. He is so tempted to just curl into a ball and cover himself with his blanket, but instead, he just curls into himself slightly.

Hank walks over to the door, glancing at Connor. He knows Hank will tell Nines to get lost if Connor had changed his mind. Connor swallows thickly and nods his head.

Hank slowly opens the door and lets Nines in. Nines glances around then to the living room where Connor hunches in on himself.

Connor is wearing a very large shirt (it was Hank's but it was large even on him), shorts, and soft fuzzy socks. Nines is wearing his usual outfit, a black button-up, and jeans.

Nines scans Connor and tilts his head just slightly. "Connor?"

Connor pulls the blanket around him tighter but holds Nines's gaze. Nines's LED flashes yellow before going back to blue.

"So, are you staying or going?" Hank asks, crossing his arms. Nines blinks and looks between Hank and Connor, he can't discern any emotions on his face. That was pretty common but generally, it would be less anxiety-inducing than it was now.

There was a long pause where Connor was sure Nines would leave, then he nodded. "I'll stay. Is there anything specific he'll need or want? Anything I shouldn't do?"

Connor sagged in relief. He would stay, but there was still the chance of resentment.

"Don't let him out everything in his mouth, he tries it with everything. He won't talk much, if at all if he does it's mostly just random sounds. Don't bring up cases or work, it'll pull him out." Hank says. "If I think of anything I'll text you, but if you have questions just let me know."

Nines nods and moves towards Connor, petting Sumo as he goes.

"Alright, kiddo. Let Nines know if you need something, and I'm just a phone call away." Hank says. Connor nods at him and gives him a small wave. Hank waves back, gives a pointed look to Nines before leaving.

Nines makes his way over, sitting down on the edge of the couch. "I have looked up what to do but I may still make mistakes, so I apologize for that."

Connor nodded then looked around. He crawled over to what he was looking for then back to Nines. He held up his stuffed elephant Hank had gotten him. It was the first stuffie Hank had gotten him after they had realized what was going on. It was definitely one of his favorites.

Nines looked at Connor then back at the elephant, slowly reaching out. Connor gave him a slight nod and Nines took the elephant. Connor watches him with wide eyes as Nines looked at the elephant.

Nines held it carefully, unsure what Connor wanted him to do with it. "Do… does it have a name?"

"Fleur." His voice comes out soft and small a higher-pitched than it normally would. Nines smiles softly and hands Fleur back.

"An excellent choice. So, what are we watching?" Nines asks, motioning to the tv. Connor bounces slightly as he looks back at the TV, slipping further and further into his headspace.

He rambles incoherently a mix of sounds and a few words. Nines nods his head and comments when appropriate seemingly understanding Connor.

At some point Connor had scooted over and was sitting between Nines's legs on the ground, holding Fleur in his lap as he watched. Nines gently carded a hand through his hair smiling just slightly (which is like a full grin for him).

Once the movie ended Connor was wiggling in place. "Are you alright?" Nines asks, trying to look at his face.

Connor whined and touched his stomach then tilted his head up to look at Nines. Androids didn't exactly get hungry but being able to eat did have an odd effect. Once the food was completely processed it left an odd feeling that was as close to hunger as androids would get.

"Ah, I'm assuming you keep android food?" Nines asks. Connor nods and touches his stomach again. Nines carefully gets up, moving to the kitchen.

'Lieutenant, Connor wants food, is there something specific I should give him?' Nines sends to Hank as he opens the fridge.

'just get him anything but cut it up for him. how is he?'

'He is doing well, we just finished watching the movie. I'll let you know if anything comes up, thank you for your help.'

Nines looks through the fridge and pulls out what is supposed to be orange juice (but it's blue), bread and peanut butter, and jelly. He makes the sandwich while making sure Connor hasn't out anything in his mouth.

He cuts the sandwich in half and looks through the counters for a cup. He finds where they are and grabs the one very obviously for Connor. It's a marvel cup with a lid and a swirly straw.

He pours in the blue orange juice, putting the lid on. He'll get Connor more if he asks but for now, he grabs the plate and cup and walks over.

He has to quickly put it all down when he sees Connor with something in his mouth.

"Connor, no. You know not to do that, now spit it out." Nines says, crouching down in front of him.

Connor ducks his head, trying to hide. Nines shakes his head fondly and reaches out to Connor's sides. It doesn't take much to get him giggling and spitting out the small soft cube. Nines doesn't stop his hands and Connor squeals trying to squirm away.

Connor's giggles and squeals are infectious and Nines can't help but let out a low laugh.

He finally lets up and Connor beams at him, scooting over and pulling him into a hug. Nines stiffens, even now unused to physical contact that wasn't due to violence. He slowly relaxes and hugs back.

"Alright... sunshine, it's time to eat." He reaches over and grabs the plate and drink. Connor makes grabby hands at the juice and Nines hands it over, making sure Connor has a good grin before letting go.

He fully sits on the ground making sure Connor doesn't make too much of a mess as he eats. He only managed to smear some jelly across his cheek and a little out of jelly and peanut butter on his hands.

Nines gets up and wets a paper towel, coming back to clean Connor up for him. Connor sits there and lets him, but once he's clean he's up and running over to his coloring books.

Nines glances at the tv and turns on a random kids show as Connor looks through the books.

Connor grins widely when he finds the one he was looking for, then grabs his crayons. This had been going so much better than he had hoped for and he knows what he wants to do next.

He flips through the book until he gets to the back pages that were empty so he could draw whatever he wanted to.

He looked at the crayons, grinning and grabbing the right one before starting to draw. He swayed slightly to the music coming from the TV. He didn't know the show but he didn't mind it. The music was fun and happy so he just swayed more to it.

Once he finished he crawled over to Nines and held it out. Nines looked between it and Connor before taking it with careful hands.

Nines looks over the drawing. It's better than what a nine-year-old would draw but it's obvious that Connor doesn't have practice with drawing. Nines can tell it's supposed to be him by the LED and blue eyes, other than that it's a bit hard to recognize.

"Thank you, this is well drawn." He doesn't know what to do with it so he puts it on the couch, out of the way of getting hurt.

Connor nods then looks around with a slight pout. He bangs his fists slightly with his blanket, pouting even more.

'Connor seems upset, and I am unsure why. He has eaten, played, and has drawn me an image.'

'ah, he probably wants a nap. the kid sleeps more than sloths. just get him into bed, he might fight you but he does want to sleep'

Nines nods mostly to himself and gets up, grabbing the plate and cup. Connor whines when he walks away so he leaves the dishes to be cleaned later.

Nines comes back over and bends down, easily picking Connor up. Connor squeaks and clings onto Nines, wrapping his legs around him.

Nines carries him to his room, placing him down gently on the bed. Connor looks around and pouts, huffing when Nines just looks at him.

"Fleur," Connor says, bouncing slightly on the bed. Right. Nines quickly walks back into the living room, finding the elephant before walking back.

Connor reaches out and Nines gives him the elephant. Connor grabs the elephant and hugs it to his chest, swaying once again.

"It's time for a nap. Do you want to change first?" Nines asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Connor huffs and glares at him over the elephant. Nines raises an eyebrow and Connor sinks down into the bed but doesn't fully lay down.

"Sleep," Nines commands. Connor's glare returns and Nines crosses his arms. "Do you want to sleep now with a story or without?"

Connor thinks for a second before crawling under the blankets and snuggling close to Nines.

Nines looks through his database before settling on Cinderella. Nines doesn't actually change his voice but he does make 'funny voices' as humans called them.

Connor giggles and slowly let his eyes close. Nines finished the story before pressing a kiss to Connor's head. He tucks him in and goes to the other side of the bed, sitting down.

'Connor is asleep.'

'good, I'll be home soon'

'Very well, I'll watch over him until then. I will want to talk to him about this, but I'd like to let you know that I fully accept him. I'd be glad to help whenever you want, or he needs.'

'good, if you upset him I was going to rip you to shreds.'

Nines smiled to himself, looking over at Connor. He lets himself relax as he watches over him. He hadn't imagined this ever happening but he was so glad he could be there for Connor. That Connor trusted him in his most valuable state.

"I love you," Nines whispered.

#rk800 #rk900 #rk1700 #RK900/Connor #connor x rk900 #dbh rk900 #connor rk900 #rk900 x rk800 #connor x Nines #detroit: nines #dbh nines #agere #sfw agere #dbh fanfic #connor dbh fanfic #fanfic #fan fic #dbh fandom #dbh blog #dbh ask blog #dbh fic blog #dbh fic #Connor #Connor dbh #dbh connor #hank anderson #hank and connor #hank detroit become human #hank dbh #detroit: hank

[atlas-tries]

Shatter Me Chapter 2: The Parent Trap (Thomasphere Edition)

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Summary: In which our protagonist finds himself in quite the sticky situation.

Notes: Hey hi hello I hope y’all are ready for this  >:3c And if you think this is something, just wait until you see what I have planned for next week! Buahahaha! That said, I do hope you enjoy! ^^ Thank you to all of you who have been supporting my story!

“Look, Specs, all I’m saying is something is definitely up with him. Cooking us breakfast but not eating with us? Disappearing as soon as we so much as glance in his direction? Has he even let you near him for the past few days without making some excuse as to why he has to go somewhere else?” Roman paced in the living room while Logan reviewed his notes on the couch.

“Roman, it’s been exactly two days, five hours, forty-seven minutes, and twenty seconds since Patton began showing this behavior. It’s not exactly a cause for concern for him to take some time for himself,” Logan replied, not bothering to look up at the Prince.

Roman looked indignant. “Oh okay, Dr. Jerkyll and Mr. Blind, then how do you explain those weird marks all over his body?”

Immediately, Logan perked up, a vague look of concern flashing across his face. “Marks? Elaborate.”

“I saw them on his hands yesterday. These little … jagged lines. And this morning, his onesie hood slipped off for a moment and I saw them on his neck, too,” Roman replied.

Logan tapped his chin and looked down. “It’s interesting you brought that up. Several days ago, I also noticed something on his neck, but at the time, he said it was chocolate. Could that have been a falsehood meant to cover up some sort of injury?”

“I don’t know, but it’s our only lead for now. Why wouldn’t he tell us if something was wrong?”

“Perhaps it would be best to seek that answer from Patton.”

“Yes! The best way to face any problem is to face it head on! Temporary truce?”

Logan nodded. “Temporary truce.”

The two immediately began planning the ways they might go about it, from simply asking Patton point-blank about what was going on to an elaborate Roadrunner scene that ended with him admitting his troubles in a gazebo in Prague. In the end, the two compromised on a plan that was guaranteed to work; Roman had come up with the falsehoods while Logan constructed the tools of their treachery. There was no way animal crackers and a giant Chinese finger trap would fail them now.

On day six of their truce, Roman and Logan finally put their scheme into motion. It was almost painful for them to hear Patton struggling to free himself. It took him the greater part of ten minutes before he finally settled down in defeat, softly whimpering.

---

At times like this, Patton wondered where he went wrong.

Here he was, groveling on the floor, his wrist trapped in some strange icing machine on the counter. Maybe this was divine retribution for the past few days or for not telling the others what was going on? He knew they were beginning to suspect something. At least, he felt like they were. He had been in full view of the Prince when his favorite onesie’s hood slid down a few mornings ago. He was fully aware of Logan’s eyes lingering on him for longer than normal. The hushed tones they used when they thought he was out of listening range hadn’t escaped his keen ears. Even Anxiety had popped up in his room yesterday wondering where he had been.

“Not that I was worried or anything, but … are you mad at me?” Anxiety asked, fiddling with his hoodie strings like he always did. “It’s just, you haven’t really come by these past few days and—”  

“Of course not, Anxiety! I’ve been uh, cleaning! Yeah, just cleaning my room. Definitely not hiding! I must’ve lost track of time. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, we can watch one of those,” Patton visibly gulped, “scary movies you like so much. How does that sound?” He tried not to let the dread of a horror flick reach his face.

Anxiety immediately perked up. “Really?” he asked.

Patton nodded, giving as genuine a smile as he could muster. “Really really.”

Thankfully, those awful cracks had now healed enough to where Patton was able to wear his normal clothes again. That turned out to be less of a blessing than he had bargained for; a normal trip to the kitchen quickly turned into something out of one of Anxiety’s favorite horror movies as soon as Patton spotted the traitorous animal crackers.

There was a little note in front of the bowl that looked to be from Logan. Patton, please enjoy this snack. The contraption on the counter will coat them in rainbow-chip frosting. Be sure to get them in deep and keep holding it until the frosting finishes. He looked at the macaroni noodle-shaped contraption on the counter. “Aw, that’s so sweet! I’ll have to remember to thank him for all of this later. But for now, I ani-must bring these back to ani-munch on,” he said to himself with a chuckle. “Not before trying one out, though!” He grabbed a lion shaped animal cracker and shoved it into the thingamajig on the counter, but nothing happened.

“Huh, maybe it’s just slow?” He stood there for a good minute or so waiting on delicious frosting, but he knew he couldn’t keep Anxiety waiting for too long. “Anxiety is waiting for me, so I guess yummy frosting will have to wait for me instead.” Patton tried to pull his hand out, but the contraption latched onto him like a vice. “Uh oh.” He tugged harder. It didn’t let go. He leaned his entire weight against it. Still nothing.

He wasn’t freaking out.

“Logan? Roman? Winnie the Pooh is stuck in the honey tree!” he cried. He waited and listened, but no one came. That meant Roman was probably off gallivanting in the Imagination and Logan had to be nose deep in his afternoon studies. Neither Anxiety nor Deceit were allowed in the light side’s common area.

He definitely wasn’t freaking out.

It felt like hours of pointless struggling passed by before Patton gave up, sinking down onto the kitchen floor and quietly whimpering against the cabinet doors. Which brought him to where he was now. “I didn’t even get any animal crackers …” he whined.

Finally, he heard quiet footsteps coming from the living room. “Roman? Logan?” Patton called out. He turned his head toward the doorway but could only partly see the two sides rushing in. “Oh, thank goodness!”

“Patton? What happened? Are you alright?” Roman asked.

“I’m fine, just in a bit of a sticky situation,” Patton said, getting up off the floor. “I’ve been at this for so long now, I’m surprised I haven’t sprouted gray hairs! There’s just no way to get out of this. But now that you two are here, maybe there’s hope after all!”

Logan approached him from the front. “We will of course get you out, but first, we need you to do something for us,” he said.

“Sure, anything you need, kiddos,” Patton replied.

Logan nodded. “I’m glad to hear you say that because we need to ask you some very important questions.”

Patton could see the concern behind his steely facade. Even Roman looked a little tense.

“Please, Padre.” Roman put a hand on his shoulder.

Patton looked down. “Questions?” He quickly jerked his head back up and pasted on as real a smile as he could. “As long as they aren’t about the secret ingredient for my pasta.”

“We couldn’t help but notice you’ve been a little … out of sorts lately. We just want to know that you’re alright,” Roman said, coming to stand beside Logan.

“Of … course I am. What makes you think something’s wrong?” Patton asked, feeling that familiar nervousness rise whenever someone brought his emotional status up.

Logan said, “For one thing, you’ve been isolating yourself for the past eight days, fifteen hours, seventeen minutes, and two seconds. For another, we have reason to believe that you may have incurred some injury, which led to this isolating behavior.”

Roman rolled his eyes at Logan. “Way to be subtle, you muddy elephant.”

Patton could only stare in abject horror as the two hashed out Roman’s name calling. They really had caught on. They knew.

They knew.

They knew.

“I … can’t …” They looked back at him. He couldn’t find it in him to summon any words. He couldn’t escape their eyes. He couldn’t escape them. The two became rather wobbly-looking in front of him, at least until the tears broke free. He sank back down to the floor, silent as the grave but still awash with fear.

Instantly, both sides were near him, Roman rubbing comforting circles on his back. They hurt where his fingers brushed over the cracks, but Patton did his best not to let it show any more than he already was.

Too bad they were so perceptive. “Are you wearing something else under this shirt? The perfectly personalized armor I gave you for Christmas last year, perhaps?” Roman asked, focusing on one particularly painful fissure.

“Patton, please. We want to help you, but we can only do that if you let us help you,” Logan said, releasing Patton’s wrist from the trap and resting a hand on his thigh.

You’re too naive to even see that you’re so broken. Patton stared at the hand. Maybe focusing on it would make the pain stop spreading again.

He didn’t notice Roman mouthing something to Logan over his shoulder. Not that he needed to know; he felt the cracks had extended beyond his sleeves. It was all over. He couldn’t hide. He couldn’t escape. That left only one option.

Patton’s hand was suddenly on Logan’s, leading it to the hem of his shirt. “P-promise me … nothing will change,” he whispered, letting his hand go limp. Tears fell with little plops onto his khakis.

Logan nodded. He gently lifted Patton’s shirt up, revealing those horrible cracks etched across his skin. A little bit of blue shone through over his heart. Patton closed his eyes in shame.

“What is …” Roman’s voice trailed off. He cleared his throat. “What is all of this?” he slowly said. His fingers so gently outlined the little ridges, as though one false move would make Patton shatter.

“It’s w-what happens when I’m … hurt,” Patton said. He balled his fists in his lap to keep himself from outrightly sobbing.

Logan, who was at first too shocked to say anything or react, suddenly spoke. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice full of protective vengeance.

“N-no one,” Patton replied. It wasn’t technically a lie; despite being spurred on by hurtful comments, this was something that moreso inflicted itself on him.

“But you just said this is what happens when you’re hurt. Surely this injury must have a cause. Did you … hurt yourself somehow?” Roman pleaded.

You did this to yourself just to make us coddle you.

Patton quietly cried out as the cracks split up his neck and down his limbs a bit more, and suddenly the world was on its side. He panted hard, trying to get his breathing under control. It’s not so bad. It’s not so bad. It’s not so bad oh gosh it hurts real bad it hurts real bad make it stop makeitstopmakeitstop.

“What’s happening? Why are they spreading?” Roman asked frantically.

With a shaky voice, Patton said, “R-roman … c-come closer.” Roman did as he said. “Closer.” Once again, Roman shifted nearer. “C-closer.” Roman’s face was almost touching Patton’s. “I g-guess you c-could s-say it’s … b-because I’m a little … broken up.” Patton summoned a tiny grin.

Logan groaned. “If he’s with it enough to make horrible puns, he’s probably fine, although I do wish to study this rather, um … concerning phenomenon. Are you able to stand?” he asked.

“Y-yeah, even though I m-might not’ve h-had you floored with m-my jokes, I sh-should be able to get off of this one,” Patton replied. Even Roman was reeling with that one.

“I might scream,” said Logan. He still offered a hand to Patton, as did Roman. With their help, he was once again standing. The world was still a little spinny and he ended up falling just a little bit onto Roman, but the dizziness should go away soon enough. At least the pain felt a little more tolerable now thanks to those jokes. “If you’re quite finished with your nonsensical japes, please come with me.”

“S-sorry, kiddo, I actually h-have something planned for th-this afternoon. Can it wait until, uh,” Patton looked up and counted on his fingers, “eight thirty?”

“… I suppo—”

“Why didn’t you tell us about this sooner?” Roman suddenly asked. “We could’ve helped you figure it out, maybe even addressed it in a video!”

Patton nodded. “I know I should’ve said something, but I didn’t want you guys worrying about it. You have enough on your plates as it stands with everything for videos and Thomas’s life, and I wasn’t going to add one more noodle onto that heaping plate of pasta,” he said.

“Wait, when did we begin speaking about pasta?” asked Logan.

“It’s a figure of speech, Captain Oblivious.” Roman turned back to Patton. “Don’t ever think that we wouldn’t care enough to want to know when something’s wrong. From now on, if something’s hurting you, please let us know.” He pulled Patton into a hug.

“I will,” Patton sighed happily and returned the hug. A bit of doubt still lingered heavily on his chest; he didn’t know if he would ever have it in him to tell them they were part of the problem. Shoving that thought down, he grabbed the bowl of animal crackers and once again made his way to the closet door.

---

“Logan’s log, Mindscape date 0-2-1-5-1-7. Subject matter: Patton’s mysterious injury. Subject was seen today to investigate the cause of an unknown thoracoabdominal injury resembling deep cuts radiating out from just over his heart. Nothing appears broken, skin integrity is good, albeit rigid near the injury sites. Subject’s essence is viewable from the deepest portions of the injury. It appears to be symmetrical between ventral and dorsal surfaces.

“First aid was attempted after the initial exam. All known methods of wound care up to, and including, sutures, staples, bandages, superglue, peppercorns, and army ants were all shown to be ineffective. Much of this is attributed to skin rigidity surrounding the injury site. However, the injury itself appears stable and very little essence has been lost.

“Subject was then queried on the following: date of initial injury, potential cause of initial injury, potential causes of further injury in relevance to earlier growth, pain level, and his observations of the phenomena. Subject stated that he couldn’t remember when the injury first occurred, nor did he remember what caused it. His pain levels fluctuate throughout the day. In regards to personal observation, he stated that the injury had a mind of its own, though how something like that could possibly have a mind is beyond my comprehension at this time. Further testing is needed before an answer can be reached.”

Logan clicked the stop button on the tape recorder and set it down on his desk. He swiveled around in his chair so he was facing the father figure seated squarely on his bed. “This doesn’t make any sense. Patton, are you sure this is all you can remember?” he asked. Patton nodded wordlessly. “Hmm. Well, it’s not much of a start, but I’ll start formulating some hypotheses. For now, I’d like to check up on your healing in one week. I’ll call you if I need more information before then.”

“Alright, just don’t stay up too late now,” Patton said, gently hugging the logical side. Though Logan normally didn’t care much for overt physical affection, he found himself returning the hug. It didn’t last long, but it was just as well that Patton had cut it short and left in a hurry; there were some additional observations Logan needed to record without Patton being around to hear them.

Logan sat down at the desk and picked the tape recorder up again. “Logan’s log, continuation of subject matter: Patton’s mysterious injury. I have suspicions that Patton is not telling me everything he knows about his condition. For now, I believe the most logical course of action is to observe his actions to see if I can uncover any clues and to monitor healing.”

He clicked the stop button. This, truly, was one of the only times where Logan Sanders felt truly perplexed.

---

Patton had just closed the door to his bedroom when he noticed a familiar yellow and gray-clad figure perched on the edge of his bed. “My my, I always knew you were the clever one of the bunch, Patton, but I had no idea you could pull something like that off,” Deceit suddenly said, turning his head toward Patton to reveal a smirk.

Patton tilted his head. “What are you talking about? I … I told them, didn’t I? Wait, what are you doing up here?”

“Oh, I had no idea what I was doing, honestly, and I’ll be sure to take ages telling you what I came here to tell you. But back onto you, my dear Father Figure. I just loved how you really relinquished every last little detail to them, especially the part where you told them it was all their fault that you’re even in this state.”

“But that’s not true!”

Deceit closed the gap between them with slow strides as he spoke. “Then why keep the real cause from them? Why keep handing me this beautiful undoing?”

Patton steadily backed up until his back was against the door, doing everything in his power to shrink away from Deceit’s piercing gaze. “Because,” Patton looked genuinely lost for a moment before finding his footing again, “it’s like I said before, I’m not adding another noodle to their pasta salad!”

Deceit gave him a briefly quizzical look before evening his expression out again. “I know exactly what that means.”

“I don’t want anyone to have to walk on eggshells around me. It hurts, sure, but they never mean to hurt me.”

“I’ve never heard that one before, certainly not in our last little discussion.” Deceit rolled his eyes and gave a flip of his hand. “How much longer do you intend to pander to me? At first, it was rather fun but now it’s just getting tiring. I’m definitely not getting worried at all.”

Patton eased enough to crack a small smile. “You don’t have to worry about this anymore, Dee. I think that now that they know this much, maybe things will get better and I won’t even have to bring it up,” he said, not knowing when he had begun holding Deceit’s hands.

Deceit sighed, looking down at where the two were connected and back up into Patton’s warm brown eyes. “I hope for your sake that’s true.”

He sunk out without another word, leaving Patton with an uncertain feeling in his heart.

Taglist: @celeste-tyrrell @taxicabinmemphis

#atlas writes #patton angst #sanders sides angst #patton sanders #shatter me #shatter me story #check the notes for links to the next chapter