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opposums-love-arson · 7 months

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Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 4

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

Stu Macher x Reader x Billy Loomis

“Did you find them?” Sid asked, referring to mom and Neil who were supposed to have arrived at the expo today, like they told us.

“Are you sure it was the Hilton?” Dewey asked, looking between us two.

“Mhm,” She said and we both nodded to him.

“They’re not registered there.” Dewey looked at us sympathetically, “Could they have stayed somewhere else?”

“I don’t know, I guess.” Sid said as she rubbed her head for the millionth time. I pulled her hand away from her face and held it in mine.

“Don’t worry girls, we’ll find them, okay?” Dewey reassured us as he put his hand on Sid’s knee.

An officer walked by placing a paper on Dewey;s desk and saying something about the mask. Dewey said he’ll “Be right back” as he pushed in his chair and walked off. “(Y/n), what if they can’t find (m/n) and dad?” Sid asked in a sad and quiet tone with little sniffles. Smiling up at her the best I could right now I said, “Hey, just like Dewey said, they’ll find them Sid. I bet mom and Neil are okay wherever they are.” Pushing her hair back from her face she responded, “Wouldn’t he want us to know that though?” At this point I just looked away. I didn’t know what to tell her. Right when I turned my head is when I made direct eye contact with Billy, a chill ran down my spine and all over my arms. He was pleading to me with a silent voice. “Hey tell em, Sidney, come one, (y/n), tell em!” Billy finally shouted as they led him out of the room. Sid refused to look and see but me? I had a clear view of his pleas for help, part of me felt bad. Right when Billy was dragged out Tatum walked in and right to us. She rushed right to Sid’s side holding her close saying, “Oh Sid, I’m gonna getcha out of here. Okay?” Nodding in response, Sid just sniffled and cried a little.

Watching these two in front of me made me realise just how much of a family we really… aren’t. I mean the way Sidney might view it yeah for sure, we talk to each other and spend time together but when it comes down to it they’ll leave me in the background while they huddle to protect her. If this were a horror movie I know I wouldn’t be the final girl, Sidney would. I was pulled out of my thoughts when I overheard Dewey and Sheriff Burke. They’re talking about how it’s hard to track the buyer for the costume and they won’t be able to access the phone account until tomorrow. I couldn’t hear anymore after Tatum just groaned, “Ugh come on,” as she stood by Sid. I’m really hoping it wasn’t Billy, I care about him a lot even if he can be a little… menacing at times. He does his best for Sid and that’s all that matters.

“Hey Dewey, can we go now?” Tatum asked her older brother, impatience written all over her face.

“Hold on a second,” He said, pointing his forefinger up in our direction.

“What did mom tell ya? When I wear this badge you treat me like a man of the law,” Dewey basically whined out to Tatum.

“I’m sorry deputy Dewey boy but we’re ready to go!” Tatum shouted in a huff as she gathered her things, “Now, okay?!”

“Uh take ‘em out the back way, avoid that circus.” Burke said as he patted Dewey’s back and pointed towards the back door.

The whole station was laughing at Dewey and Tatum’s bickering as we rushed for the doors.

“There she is, Sydney!” Oh well I guess the Devil will always seek you out when you least expect it. “Hi, some night, what happened, are you alright?” Gale asked, shoving the microphone in Sid’s face.

“She’s not answering any questions alright? Just leave us alone,” Tatum said in a tired-of-this-shit tone.

“No no, Tatum it’s okay she’s just doing her job, right Gale?” Sid smiled and lightly pushed Tatum back towards me.

Judging by her voice, Sidney is about to throw down.

“Yes that right,” Gale nodded, still shoving the microphone in Sid’s face.

“So how’s the book?” Sid asked, a sarcastic and scorch sound to her voice.

“Well, it’ll be out later this year.”

“Oh, I’ll look for it.” Sid said, he voice cracking for the tears and sobs trying to escape.

I whispered over to Tatum, “Grab Sid. Now.” Tatum did exactly as I said.

Just in time too since Gale said, “I’ll send you a copy!”

Sid went to turn around and punch her but Tatum held her back with all her strength. This allowed me to take her place and land a clean right hook to Gale’s left cheek pushing her back and down into her camera man. Words could be heard from all the people behind her but I wasn’t listening.

Dewey ran up to us and escorted Tatum, Sid, and I to his patrol car.

“Where’d you learn to punch like that?” Dewey asked as he held onto my arm.

“Mom was a boxer before she got with Neil,” I said as I slammed the car door.

“(Y/n) why did you do that?” Sidney asked me, looking in confusion.

“What, you think I’m going to risk my sister facing legal action in the middle of this shit show? I’d rather land in the slammer than you Sid,” I said as I placed my head on her shoulder.

“See Tatum why can’t you be like that?” Dewey whined from the front seat.

“Because you’re my big brother Dewey you’re supposed to defend me!” And so the sibling bickery ensued once again.

Once we made it to Tatum’s we got dressed in our pajamas and just lounged around Tatum’s room. I guess my clothes weren’t up-to-par with the latest fashion because right when I walked in I earned an “ugh” from Tatum. “What?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning on the doorway with a goofy grin. “Well one, you always wear those ridiculous shirts, and two, change whatever you’re doing.” Standing up straight I tug down at my shirt, it was just a Pet Sematary shirt, I guess I do wear a lot of horror stuff. “I get why you don’t like the shirt but what’s wrong with what I was doing?” I asked in a genuinely confused tone. Tatum got up to cup my face and squeeze it. “You’ve been spending too much time with Billy and Stu, we need to re-acclimate you to society.” She said and she pouted her lip, feigning pity for my accidental new traits. While Tatum was shuffling through her drawers I looked over at Sid. I mouthed, “Aren’t you going to do something?” Sid shrugged and mouthed back, “What am I supposed to do?” I tossed my arms up in the arm and mouthed, “Anything.”

Tatum then threw something purple and soft right at my face. “There, go put those on then come back so I can braid your hair!” Tatum excitedly squealed. “We’re going to take cute pictures so hurry!” She shouted down the hall. Rushing to the bathroom I turned on the light, releasing a breath I held in… I’m just a little scared after tonight, I don’t know what’s lurking in the dark places anymore. I examined the set of small shorts and a smooth satin sleeping hirt. I quickly threw them on before heading back to Tatum’s room. When I came back I heard Tatum laughing.

“God I loved it! I’ll send you a copy, BAM, bitch went down!” Tatum imitated the event. Punching her stuffed rabbit.

Moving to sit up she again said, “I’ll send you a copy, bam! (Y/n), super bitch!” Tatum exclaimed shoving her arms out to the side. “She is so cool.”

I moved over to her vanity, careful not to make any noise because I wanted to bask in the fame.

Dewey walked in saying, “Thought (y/n) might want some ice for that right hook” Just had to run it Dewey.

“Over here Dewey,” I said as I sat at the end closest to the door.

Dewey tossed me the greenish ice pouch before I said, “Thanks.”

“I’ll be right next door, try to get some sleep.” Dewey said as Tatum waved him off.

I hopped onto the same bed as Tatum, I wanted to give Sid her space since she’s going through a lot right now.

Turning to me Tatum asked, “Do you really think Billy did it?”

My heart was telling me to say no but all that came out of my mouth was, “He was there Tatum…”

“He was destined to have a flaw, I knew he was too perfect.” Tatum said as she bobbed her head.

Hearing the phone ring in the other room just gave me instant chills, so did the knock at Tatum’s door right after.

“Telephone honey,” Tate’s mom walked in.

“Who is it?” Tatum asked as we turned to look at Mrs. Riley.

“It’s for the girls,” She said, making Sid turn her entire body.

“Is it my dad?” Her question was eager with hope in her voice.

“I don’t think so,” Tatum’s mom said as she gave a sympathetic smile.

Sid turned back over, having no interest in the matter anymore.

“Take a message,” Tatum said, leaning back against the headboard.

Getting up I said, “No it’s okay, I’ll answer it.” It might be something important, even if it isn’t our parents.

As I walked out I could hear the pitter-patter of Sid’s sock covered footsteps follow me to the phone.

“Hello?” I asked, crossing my fear arm over my chest.

“Hello, (y/n).” Oh no, the voice was obviously the ghost masked man from just hours ago. His words were drawn out just hoping for a reaction.

I gave him exactly what he wanted, “No! Stop, stop this now!” I wailed out.

Sidney came to my side, along with Tatum and her family.

“Poor Sidney’s Billy boyfriend, that guy doesn’t stand a chance with her.” This Ghostface said in mock gossip as if he were one of the girls.

“Leave me and my sister alone! You Jack Torrance sounding creep!” I exclaimed, shaking from the pure rage and fear that swam through my body.

“Looks like your sister fingered the wrong guy, again!” The masked murderer snarled on the other side of the line.

“What are you talking about? Who are you?” I asked in complete confusion by his words. Tatum and Sidney were begging me to hang up the phone.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough, I promise.” He said before letting his line go dead.

“What?!” Dewey exclaimed as he rushed out to us a little too late. We were already walking back to the room

I couldn’t sleep for the entire night, neither could Sid and Tatum. We tried keeping our minds off of things by doing light hearted girly stuff like braiding each other's hair, painting our nails, taking cute pictures with Tatum’s instant camera. I just wasn’t ready to leave the warm security of our friend’s home tomorrow morning.

#scream 1996 #scream fanfic #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #stu macher x reader #billy x reader #scream #scream x yn #stu x reader

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months

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LittleMouse!Series Part Six: The Hours In Between - Alden Parker x Reader

Tagging: @mandy426 @neapolitantoebeans @yezzyyae

LittleMouse!Series

Don't... - Alden hates what your doing.

Waiting - You leave your ex waiting.

In Sickness & In Health - Alden and your ex sit down to discuss you.

Bordeaux - You come home to an unexpected surprise.

Acts of Violence - Alden walks into a nightmare.

The next few hours flash by in a haze of chaos, noise and florescent lights. There’s too much commotion around you, too much activity. You can’t make sense of what’s happening because all you can focus on is the pain that emanates from the place where Kristof had stabbed you with the stem of a broken wineglass. You slip in and out of consciousness during this time, snatching at pieces of reality.

“You’re in the hospital.” Alden tells you during a brief moment of lucidity. “They’re prepping you for surgery.”

The darkness is already rushing back in again before you can open your mouth to respond.

You keep going back to that moment in the apartment, the one where everything changed. You can’t believe how quickly it escalated. There’s never been a threat of violence from Kristof before, not until tonight.

“You can’t just break into my apartment and make yourself at home.” You’d snapped at him when he tried to hand you the glass of Bordeaux.

“What else am I supposed to do?” He’d asked you, setting it down on the coffee table. “You won’t meet with me, take my calls, answer my texts...”

“You aren’t picking up the hint?” You return, running your hands through your hair in frustration. “I do not want to speak to you.”

“Not even after what Parker told you?” Kristof asks incredulously, his hands coming to rest on his hips. “Because he did tell you, didn’t he?”

You’d sank into the armchair then because you’d begun to see where this pathological desire for contact comes from. The thing about Kristof? He’s a powerful man, he’s used to other people doing his bidding and when they don’t, he acquires leverage, he forces them to bend to his will. This diagnosis isn’t something you can combat and that makes him feel helpless. You can see that he’s spiralling, he’s used to being in control and now that’s been snatched from him.

“I’m sorry that you’re sick.” You tell him, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch across from you. “It must have been a shock.”

“It was.” Kristoff tells you as he sits down. He picks up the Bordeaux, his thumb chasing along the curvature of the wine glass. “In that moment it’s like the world just stopped and everything I had done up until that point it didn’t matter. It feels like I’m staring down the barrel of a gun and I…”

He’d shaken his head then before his gaze flickered up to meet yours.

“This is the first real conversion I have had about it. You are then only one I can let see this part of me, the only one I trust to be vulnerable around. That’s why I need you…”

You see your mistake almost immediately. You’d forgotten what it was like to be around Kristof, how he manipulates the situation to suit him. He’s intentionally pulling on your heart strings, strumming them the same way he did back then. The difference is you’ve grown now, moved on, you know how to set boundaries.

“That’s not going to happen Kris.” You say firmly. “We’ve been divorced three years now and it took me a long time to recover from what you did to me. You’ve never held yourself accountable for any of it, not the games, not the women…”

“You want me to say I’m sorry?” He interrupts you, his voice filled with ire. “Fine I’m sorry, but you were sad all the fucking time. What was I supposed to do when you decided you didn’t want to put out?”

You lose your shit then because the audacity of this man astounds you.

“My friend had just died. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go down on you to help ‘relieve’ a little stress before the Congressional Dinner.”

“That’s not…” He trails off, the muscle in his cheek twitching because the reason the two of you had gotten divorced was because you’d walked in on him fucking a Whitehouse Aide in your bed after picking up his tuxedo. “That’s not what I came here to talk about. I need you to come back…”

“And I need you to get the fuck out.” You were on your feet at that point already heading back to grab your phone. “Fuck, I’ll call Metro myself.”

It’s the threat of a scandal that tips him over the edge. The idea of him being dragged out of his ex-wife’s apartment in handcuffs for breaking and entering. You suspect in that moment he saw his future, declining health, his reputation in tatters and he blamed you, the woman who refused to be controlled by him anymore.

It had become a fight for your life after that because you had no doubt that he wanted to kill you. You could see it in his eyes.

When you wake up, it’s with an intense agony in your left side and a dry mouth. You try to move your hand to pull off the oxygen mask on your face but Alden’s already intervening. His fingers gently curl around yours, guiding your hand back down as he raises to his feet so that you can see his face. You can’t describe how comforting you find his presence so instead you squeeze his hand lightly.

“Welcome back, sweetheart.” He says fondly, his lips brushing over your hairline. “Trust me, you’ve been missed.”

Love Alden? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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#alden parker imagine #alden parker x reader #alden parker #ncis x reader #ncis #alden parker x you

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

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Reflection Of You | Chapter 3

Genre: Historical!AU, Timetraveller!AU/ Different Dimension, Romance

Pairing: SUGA x Reader, Yoongi x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Idol!Suga, King!Yoongi, Guard!Seokjin, Guard!Jungkook, RoyalAdvisor!Namjoon, Servant!Jimin, Servant!Hoseok, Prince!Taehyung

Summary: Confirming you were dating the famous Min Suga of BTS, you knew you were bound to make some enemies. But what you didn’t expect was to be cursed, leading you to meet a cold-hearted, arrogant king that shares the same face as your rapper lover.

Looks like you couldn’t deal with the negativity and the scary fans on your own. But you couldn’t bear to burden Yoongi further with it.

Chapter warning(s): threatening words, death threats, name calling. Mentions of someone getting cursed through fantasy dark magic. Please do not take it seriously and only read at your own discretion.

Ever since the news, things have been... eventful. Most of the ARMY seemed accepting and supportive, most. Some ARMYs have found your social media accounts and were spreading it around. While some of the messages were nice, there were still some threatening ones.

“Have you told hyung?” Taehyung asked. You jumped, the phone slipping out of your hands and onto the floor. Taehyung had come to go through some music with Yoongi and they were working in the room the whole day.

“You scared me, Tae.” You bent down to pick up the device, tucking it into your pocket.

“So are you?” Taehyung blinked.

“Tell him what? Exactly.” You sighed, continuing with your cleaning chores of the kitchen. Taehyung stopped you, gripping your wrist, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to let this go.

“You need to tell him. He can do something, or tell the company to do something.” Taehyung said.

“Thanks for your concern, Tae. But I can handle a few young girls without having to involve Yoongi. I don’t want him blaming himself again. It’s just social media, I don’t need it. Besides, this has probably caused a lot of trouble for the company already, I’m not about to add on more.” You said softly, not wanting Yoongi to hear.

“These aren’t a few young girls, noona. They’re crazy, violent. They aren’t ARMY, you know that.” Taehyung insisted.

“Whatever it is. It’s nothing dangerous. If things get worse, then I’ll tell Yoongi.”

“Tell me what?” Yoongi appeared. He blinked when he saw Taehyung gripping your wrist, you and him having such a hushed conversation, that apparently wasn’t hushed enough.

“Nothing.” You muttered and pulled your wrist away.

“What did you do?” Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed. Taehyung shook his head, going to the fridge to get a bottle of juice before leaving the kitchen.

“I’m fine, Yoongi. Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry.” You smiled, knowing that Yoongi was still genuinely concerned for you. Drying your hands, you walked up to him and kissed the furrowed eyebrows with a smile.

“Take a break. We can continue cleaning later.” Yoongi held your hand.

“I’m almost done.” You shrugged. Yoongi sighed, giving in to you. His hands moved to hold your waist as he leaned down to give you a kiss on the cheek. Squeezing your waist once more, he poured himself a cold coffee from the fridge and left to continue working with Taehyung.

“Where was I...?” You turned to finish your cleaning. When you were done with the kitchen, you busied yourself by vacuuming the floor and dusting the shelves until the house was spotless.

“All done.” You smiled, happy with yourself. You sat down on the couch, looking back at your phone.

‘Why would oppa go for someone ugly like you?’

‘We know you’re just using him, whore. ’

‘You think we won’t find you?’

‘If BTS loses popularity, it’s all your fault. If only you died.’

With that, you decided to deactivate all your social media. You deleted all the apps from your phone, willing yourself not to think about it. Even if you acted unaffected, a part of you was creeped out by just how much these people can find out about you. Luckily, you had no family that they could track down and hurt as revenge.

RINGGGG

“Hello? Geumjae oppa?” It was rare but not odd for Yoongi’s older brother to be calling you. He owned a nice cafe in Daegu, being a chef.

“Hey, (y/n). Is Yoongi busy?”

“He’s in the home studio, working with Taehyung. He must have silenced his phone. What’s up? Can I take a message?” You went to retrieve a notepad and pen just in case.

“Oh... Don’t worry. It isn’t important, I’ll just call him. My parents told me what happened, and I read about it in the news, how is everything on your end?”

“Manageable.” You replied shortly.

“I understand. Even as his brother, I get some threats sometimes. Don’t take them to heart, alright? If it gets too much, you have to tell Yoongi. So the company can take action. Still, you should be careful if you go out. Maybe have someone follow you for now.”

“I will, thanks oppa. It’s a little shocking how they managed to find me so quickly. We’re just laying low now. I don’t want to unnecessarily stress Yoongi out even more.” You said.

“You’re always putting others before yourself, (y/n) ah. Oh, looks like I have to go. I’ll see you two when you come to Daegu.”

“You can count on it! I’ll see you, oppa.” You chuckled and hung up. Since you got a little sweaty and dirty from cleaning, you went to take a shower.

When you came out, you saw Yoongi sitting on the couch, sipping whiskey. Taehyung didn’t seem to be around anymore, his shoes from the doorway were gone too.

“Tae went back?” You asked. Yoongi just grunted in reply.

“What’s wrong? Why are you mad?” You stood at the end of the couch, putting your hands on your hips.

“How long were you going to keep me in the dark? About the fans finding your social media and harassing you, sending you death threats. Or how about that your boss had put you on indefinite period of leave.” Yoongi spoke. There was so many emotions in his voice, betrayal, sadness, anger, frustration. You sighed, looking away.

“Who told you? Tae?”

“Taehyung knows?!” Yoongi raised his voice.

“That’s what we were discussing earlier... In the kitchen. He saw my phone. Unintentionally, of course. But if it wasn’t Tae who told you, then who?” You asked.

“That’s all you care about? Well if you must know, Geumjae hyung just called me to tell me that some fans showed up at his cafe and he saw the comments on your social media before you deleted them. As for your job, your boss told me when I sent an official BigHit letter about the situation.” Yoongi explained.

“Those comments are just nothing but words. And with the job, I can just find another one. I can handle it, Yoons. It’s no big deal.” You spoke calmly, quite the opposite of him.

“Stop saying you can handle it, (y/n)! Stop saying it’s no big deal! I... Ugh...” He held onto his head in frustration.

“Then what do you want me to say?” You closed your eyes to take a deep breath.

“I know you’re doing this so I don’t feel guilty or whatever but you saying it’s no big deal makes me feel worse! It feels like I can’t even do a proper job of protecting my girlfriend, that she feels the need to hide from me just because she thinks that I can’t take it.” He hissed. Now you knew he was just saying things he didn’t mean.

“Yoongi, you know that’s not true.” You crossed your arms.

“It sure feels that way.” He replied. You bit your lip. knowing that speaking to him when he was in this state wouldn’t help the both of you. You would just end up losing your cool and screaming at him too.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.” You turned around and went to the room. Before you closed the door, you heard the door to Yoongi’s studio slam shut.

“Just great.” You sighed. After drying your hair, you put your moisturiser on and got ready for bed.

In time like these, you just needed to give him space. It was known that Yoongi didn’t express emotions well so he often said things in a fit of anger but he really doesn’t mean it.

3 am...

You hadn’t been able to sleep so you settled for a book that both Namjoon and Yoongi had recommended. The bedroom door slowly crept open. Yoongi stood there, teary eyed and red nosed. He looked at you with a slightly blank stare. You closed your book, standing from the bed to hug him.

“I... I...” His whole body shook.

“I can’t just sit... and wait for that dreaded call... that something happened to you. I can’t, (y/n). I’ll go crazy. I’m so f*cking scared.” He shook his head. You knew Yoongi was paranoid, he was always worrying about something.

“It’ll be okay, Yoongi. You’re scaring yourself.” You said softly.

“I can’t let you go.”

“No one says you have to. I’ll always be right here, Yoons. It’ll take a lot for anyone to drive a wedge between us, I promise you.” You kissed his temple.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I know I should trust you more and shouldn’t have made you feel weak or useless. It’s just, I’m scared too. This is all new to me.” You continued.

“We’ll get through this together.” He cupped your cheeks in his hands. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against yours. You grabbed a tissue from your nightstand, gently wiping his eyes and nose. Yoongi stood still, sniffling ever so often. You threw the tissues away and laid with him. If possible, Yoongi held you closer to him than any other night.

“Tell me about what you’re working on.” You changed the subject. Yoongi was always in the mood to talk about music.

“Tae’s mixtape looks like it’s coming along well, he has come very far in terms of putting his own music together. I’m gonna start working on the songs I promised Jimin and Jin hyung. ” Yoongi said.

“That sounds awesome.” You said encouragingly.

“Really? It seems that all I talk about is music. I’m even using my break to work on it.” Yoongi scoffed at himself.

“It’s your break, Yoons. You can do whatever you want with it. And I never get tired of listening to you talk about your work. You just sound so proud and confident when you do.” You confessed, blushing.

“Are you blushing?!” Yoongi’s eyes widened.

“Whaaaaaaat? I’m allowed to blush over my boyfriend. Geez. I didn’t think I would be confessing all my inner thoughts today.” You cleared your throat. Yoongi let out a soundless laugh, showing his genuine gummy smile, the one that you just love so much.

“You’re too cute, aegi.” Yoongi stroked your hair.

“Stop embarrassing me. I’m supposed to be the one to tease you, not the other way around.” You scrunched your nose, pulling away from his embrace to hide under the blanket.

“Okay okay, I’ll stop. Can you come out, please? I want to cuddle my girl as I sleep.” Yoongi persuaded. You slowly removed the blanket, letting Yoongi tuck you into the crook of his neck comfortably.

As you and Yoongi were getting ready to head to Daegu, Yoongi was told to pick up his fan gifts from BigHit. All fan gifts are sent to BigHit for security checks before the boys can collect them and open them at home. Yoongi drove one of BigHit’s borrowed cars, which is a Hyundai SUV, considering they were the brand ambassadors.

“Ready?” Yoongi asked, adjusting his bucket hat.

“Yeah.” You pulled your mask up, carrying two cups of iced coffee. You handed one to Yoongi while you locked the front door. After that, Yoongi used his free hand to hold yours.

“Should we have asked Sejin oppa to drive us?” You asked as Yoongi unlocked the car doors.

“This car was checked and approved by BigHit. The windows are also tinted so they wouldn’t know it’s us. And we use the back entrance.” Yoongi informed.

“Alright.” You got in. As you closed the door, Yoongi grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it. You smiled at him as he started the engine. You played music from your phone, ready to jam with him like you always do.

“Ready?” He turned to you. You nodded and he drove out.

“Now for a throwback.” You announced as you played ‘No More Dream’, much to Yoongi’s annoyance. You would play old BTS songs from time to time just to mess with him.

“Aegi, please.” He groaned.

“I want a big house, big cars and big rings.” You were too busy rapping his part to hear him. Yoongi burst out laughing, you rapping, especially to his songs, never failed to make him laugh. You were even throwing hand signs like he would do.

“If you can’t beat them, join them.” Yoongi shook his head, joining you in the song. He took the vocal parts while you took the rapping parts. Hearing Yoongi try to reach high notes killed you.

“To all the youngsters out there without dreams.” The two of you said Namjoon’s ending line together.

“I can’t even believe we had fans back then.” Yoongi chuckled.

“Hey, don’t shun the ARMY. They’ll love you no matter the era.” You scoffed with your arms crossed. You remember how Yoongi would come in after practice, looking so tired but still diligently picking out CDs to buy.

“I remember you bringing me your first album.” You reminisced with a small smile. Yoongi cringed.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Why? You were so cute and nervous. I think that was when I started to develop feelings for you.” You giggled. Yoongi had burst into the store, presenting you the signed album with a deep bow. He had turned so red and was so flustered that he spoke with a stutter. You found it adorable but what made your heart swell was the personal note Yoongi wrote for you.

“That’s when you had feelings for me?! Then why did I wait like 4 years to ask you out?!” Yoongi screeched in outrage. You just shrugged.

“At that time, you and the others were so unsure of where your careers would lead you, who knew what the future held. Starting a relationship wouldn’t have been the smart thing to do.” You explained lightly.

“Still, I could have had you by my side.” He grumbled.

“Whether I was your girlfriend or not, I would have always been by your side, Yoon. For you and the others.”

“Yeah but I would have preferred if you were by my side, as my girl.” He scoffed and you reached over to stroke his cheek lightly, not wanting to distract him from driving too much.

“But here we are. I don’t think waiting a few years has changed my feelings for you. Things happen for a reason.” You smiled.

“You and your philosophies... You know, you’re starting to sound a lot like Namjoon and I’m not sure how I feel about that.” He teased. You shook your head and rolled your eyes. As Yoongi drove past the front of BigHit, there were a few girls sitting on the floor.

“Don’t look.” Yoongi said, not even having to turn to you. But it was too late, you saw all the words of hate and anger directed towards you, Yoongi and the rest of Bangtan.

“I told you not to look.” Yoongi said softly.

“It’s inevitable...” You looked down at your lap. You hated that the rest of the boys were also getting the heat for this, they didn’t deserve it.

“Mr Min.” The security guard greeted as Yoongi rolled the window down. He opened the barrier for Yoongi to drive in. He entered the private, underground carpark to the BigHit building. He backed into his parking space.

“Hey, it’ll pass. Remember?” Yoongi held your chin and leaned in to give you a comforting kiss. You gave a small smile, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him.

“Let’s do this quickly. Then we’ll go home.” He said. You hummed in agreement, exiting the car with him.

“Hey.” Yoongi greeted the stuff with a bow and you followed suit.

“It’s in the conference room.” He told you as the two of you took the lift up. Yoongi held your hand the entire time. You went into the empty conference room to see a stack of gifts there. What surprised you was that there was a small stack with your name labelled on them. You blinked, turning to Yoongi, who just shrugged.

“They’re checked for dangerous items. So go ahead.” He encouraged. You opened the first box, seeing a stuffed black cat that was dressed similarly to Yoongi. You giggled, shoving it into Yoongi’s face.

“It’s you. Lil meow meow.”

“Whatever makes you happy, aegi.” Yoongi rolled his eyes and looked through some of his gifts. There were nice, heartwarming letters in most of the boxes.

“Aww, look.” There was a nice fanart of a faceless girl playing with a black kitten, presumably Yoongi. It was done so nicely with watercolour, you couldn’t wait to display it.

“That’s you.” You pointed to the kitten that was rolled in yarn.

“Wow, I didn’t even think of that.” Yoongi said sarcastically. You slapped his arm. He read some letters while waiting for you.

“What?” You opened a box to see some few odd objects inside, not something one would give as a gift. There was also a tarot card inside, The Devil. There was no letter inside at all. It creeped you out slightly but it wasn’t particularly threatening so you just closed the box.

“What’s that?” Yoongi asked.

“Some nice notes put together.” You lied with a smile.

“Let’s go home and open the rest of these.” You told him. Yoongi nodded, placing the gifts onto the trolley that was provided and pushing it back down to the carpark.

“Min Yoongi!” Someone called out just as you reached the carpark. The both of you looked up but your reaction was too late.

“Ah!” Your first instinct was to protect your face, causing the blade to slash your arm. You crumbled slightly, face scrunching in slight pain as blood began to seep out. Yoongi’s eyes widened in horror.

“Aegi!” Yoongi was in shock. Before he could pull you behind him, you felt yourself fall to the ground, a sudden weakness taking over your system.

“Yah! What did you do?!” Yoongi screamed at this intruder.

“If I can’t have Yoongi, no one can.” She smiled as she met eyes with you. You laid on the ground, shivering. Your vision blurred horribly and you felt light headed. Was that what the box was earlier? Witchcraft? Does witchcraft still exist or does it even work? Yoongi called out to you but he felt so distant even as he hovered over you.

“Time to disappear.” She grinned and clapped her hands.

“Aegi! (y/n)! Can you hear me?!” Yoongi shook you.

“Yoon-” Your vision faded to black.

Series Masterlist

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

Demon Brothers Comfort an MC with Depression

As somebody who struggles with and has seen others battle depression, I know that it manifests in everyone a little differently and what works for some may not for others. Unfortunately, there is no cure-all. But if you're like me and some relief can come from comfort/being comforted, no matter how you find it, then I hope this helps you too. Please remember there's always places and people who wish to help out. Try to practice self-love and stay safe out there.

Warnings: Themes of Depression, Angst

Lucifer

His reaction to stress is work. If he’s stressed out, then he’ll do more work. It’s not that he enjoys it, it just keeps his mind distracted and he’d rather things get done. So he can recognize when someone else does the same.

Cooking, cleaning, homework, or other chores, he’s seen the MC go around doing this and that throughout the House. At first he was thankful, his brothers so rarely clean up or look after themselves, but after a while things started to seem off…

They started working themselves to the bone. He could hear them up in the middle of night sweeping or washing dishes. It was almost like they had forgotten how to sleep at night...

One night, when he left his study to go make some coffee, he found them in the library scrubbing the floors. Their shoulders were trembling with hushed whimpers and choked sobs...

He made them put the sponge away, walked them back into his study, and sat them down despite their protests. They explained their condition to him there through tears they seemingly didn’t want to shed... They’d been unable to sleep in days and were using cleaning as a distraction...

His first instinct was to put them to bed, but if they already can’t sleep then that seemed insufficient…

He ordered them to relax in the chair and played classical music as he made them some tea. He tried to calm them down as best he could and reassured them with quiet conversation and compliments to help them stop crying. When they eventually zonked out, he carried them back to bed then set to work.

Informed Diavolo the next day that the MC was having difficulties then sought out the best treatment the human world had to offer. He personally escorts the MC there for regular services.

Would not hear a word of protest on this. If they didn’t want to go, then he would just have kidnap a therapist and bring the treatment to them.

He instructed his brothers remind the MC to relax sometimes and watch closely for signs of overworking. They could let the house fall to pieces for all he cares, just as long as they’re getting enough sleep and feeling better.

“This simply won’t do… But that’s alright. I’ll make sure things here are better for you.”

Mammon

He's been with MC the longest, he knows what's up by now.

He wouldn't say they have mood swings but he's picked up on how their mood rises and falls over time. They may seem perfectly fine for a while, a week, sometimes two. Then suddenly it's as if they pull back...

They'll stay in their room longer, be a bit more quiet at the dinner table, or look spaced out all the time. Like they're there, but not really with him anymore…

At first he thought it was something he was doing but they’d always tell him he’s fine. Great even. So why did they keep pulling away…?

He got worried enough about it that he asked Solomon if it was just a human thing. He’s the one who told him what depression was and that the MC may have it.

Honestly, he can’t say that he gets it completely, but he takes it seriously. If it’s making the MC feel this bad then he’s got to try something, right?

He’s unsure of what to do, so he settles for just being there for them. Constantly. If he notices that they’re pulling back again, he’ll go to their room and just be there. Even if he’s only checking his phone while sitting next to them on the bed.

He makes sure to remind them that since they’re his human he doesn’t like seeing them sad. If they need to talk, he’s got it. If they need a hug, he’s got that too. He won’t let them feel like they’re all alone as long as he’s around.

“Tsk, look… You know you’ve got me here, right? I ain’t goin’ leave ya…”

Leviathan

Was pretty oblivious to it until he walked into their room one day to lend them a new manga and found them curled up, crying in bed.

Panicked right away because he thought they were hurt and almost called for Lucifer before they stopped him.

After they explained the situation and that sometimes the tears just happen, he felt awful for them. He’s not exactly an emotionally secure person himself so he could relate to feeling like your mind can be against you at times.

He offers them funny manga or shows them games that make him relaxed and happy. He takes their tastes into account and tries to craft them the best “feel good” media pack an otaku can ask for.

If they’re not an otaku like he is well… He doesn’t really know what makes normies feel better, but he’ll still try there too. He’s sure there’s probably some things on Akuzon that can help. Flowers? Candy? Do crystals work on them? He’s not very equipped, but he is trying.

Asks them over for a lot more anime/game nights because he thinks if he can get them distracted, then that’s a bit of relief in and of itself. Will try very hard to make them laugh when they’re together. Every little smile is a victory in his eyes.

“Okay, I brought this, and this, and this, oh and that too! It’s a good series. We can watch it together, okay?”

Satan

Sadness is sort of new to him. When you’ve been angry most of your life you end up not very familiar with other emotions, be they your own or other people’s...

He DID know about depression though. Or at least he knew what it was. He read about it in some human medical journals after the MC came to the Devildom, just to cover his bases.

When the MC started to show signs of having it, he was hesitant to say much at first because he didn’t think his place to do so.

He changed his mind after they began skipping classes. It started out pretty minor, they’d be late for class this week then maybe leave a little early the next… But soon it seemed like they couldn’t bring themselves to go at all.

He knew this wasn’t a Belphie situation. The MC wasn’t lazy and they cared a good deal about their grades. If something was keeping them from making it to class, it had to be serious and he wanted to help.

He read enough on the subject to be able to approach it tactfully, then presented the MC with his findings. He tried to be gentle, but he was worried and when he’s worried he wants to get to the bottom of the problem as soon as possible.

When his suspicions were proven true, he did everything in his power to help them. He read up on the condition for days and asked them a lot of questions about how they doing, how they’re feeling, what makes them comfortable, etc.

He begun looking into what treatments were available/able to be smuggled down to the Devildom while still being discreet, if that’s what they wanted. His brothers didn’t need to know.

Checks up on them a lot in the meantime and tries to cheer them up if he can. He’s not the best at it face-to-face but he may send them gifs and pics of kittens doing kitten things. That usually helps him, so maybe it will help them too?

“Don’t worry, you can get through this. There’s a lot of options available. Here, let me show you what I’ve found...”

Asmodeus

Even the most beautiful people can feel depressed sometimes and Asmo knows that.

It started with him fussing over their appearance like he does with all his brothers, semi-playfully of course.

“MC, are you getting enough beauty sleep? MC, why don’t you do something more with your hair? MC, you could look cuter than that! MC? Are you listening...?”

It didn’t take long, though, for him to notice the dip in their self-care was getting steeper… And it wasn’t like them. They didn’t put as much pride in their appearance as he does (who can?) but they had a style. There was a way they liked to present themselves to other people. They just weren’t doing that anymore…

Something was wrong and he was sure of it.

When he invited the MC to his room that day, he didn’t have any ulterior motives for once. He wasn’t looking for a night of fun, only answers to soothe his concern.

He had never been more gentle or considerate of their feelings than he was right then; coaxing but never prodding until finally they let him in wholeheartedly.

He held the MC as they cried, listened to every word they had to say, never interrupted or complained, and just brushed every tear away.

Makes it his mission to take care of the MC inside and out. Spa days become a regular occurrence where he will ask how they’re doing and let them vent whatever they need. If they don’t feel like talking, then he will take over and try to make them laugh with some embarrassing gossip about his brothers.

Wholeheartedly believes that one's mental health is entwined with one’s physical, so will make them feel the most beautiful and relaxed they ever have in hopes that it might soothe that emotional pain too.

“Go on, sweetheart, and let it all out… Don’t worry. I’m listening.”

Beelzebub

His first tip off was the food. They weren't eating.

Beel's pretty perceptive to what food is around him at all times so he’s the first to notice MC's portions getting smaller… then their plates stay half full.

That worried him enough but when they started skipping meals all together he knew he needed to step in and find out what was wrong. Were they sick?

He gently cornered them one day in the kitchen when they went to grab some instant noodles. It was well past noon and that was the only thing he'd seen them eat since yesterday's breakfast. He knows they're never as hungry as he is, but that has to hurt them too, right?

When he asked about their appetite they wouldn't meet his eyes. They tried to tell him that they were fine but that wasn't going to fly. He called their bluff immediately.

He didn’t expect them to start crying... Honest.

He felt horrible and just pulled them into a hug while they let it out, rocking them gently like he does with Belphie when he’s upset.

When they explained to him what depression is and how they don’t feel like eating sometimes it makes him more worried than before. He honestly can’t process the idea of not being hungry for such long periods of time but it sounds bad for them surely…

From that day forward he keeps a close eye on their food intake. He’ll be the first to encourage them to eat and even offer his own food if they haven’t had any yet. If they’re looking a little down, he’ll offer them snacks from his comfort food stash.

He’s always down to be with them when they need it. No questions asked. If they just show up at his room or send him a text then he’ll be there. He doesn’t mind if they don’t feel like talking, he just hopes his presence helps somehow.

“Do you need me right now? Okay. I’ll order us a pizza but you have to eat some of it too, alright?”

Belphegor

It’s not an unfamiliar feeling to him. He went through his own sad spells after Lilith died… Back then he coped with it through sleeping most of the day and being with Beel.

He started to notice that the MC was sleeping more. At first he was kind of happy because then they could nap together, but it started getting worse…

They’d sleep almost all day. Humans only need 8 hours but they’d go 14 or more… Not even he can stay in bed that long...

When they were awake they’d be quiet. They’d like to hold him but they weren’t telling him what was wrong…

After a while, he got so worried that he looked up what could be making them so sleepy. When he read about depression it all clicked in place for him, not just about them but about himself too.

One night, while they were having another afternoon nap/snuggle, he gently brought up the subject and they confirmed his suspicions.

What proceeded was a long conversation between the two where he admitted to sometimes feeling the same. They compared notes and thoughts, shared pain and scars, and talked about little things that might not mean much, but made them smile and feel happy to be in the world.

He made a deal with them to start staying up more if he did the same. He skipped class less often in order to wake up and go to school with them and stayed near them while they’re there just in case they started losing steam.

He wouldn’t force them to do any schoolwork or anything, but he would try to keep them up and about by inviting them in on pranks or talking to them so they won’t fall asleep until a good time for it. He just wanted them to be happy and healthy.

Promised that no matter how long the day took, he’d still cuddle them to sleep at night.

“Hey, if I’m not sleeping then you aren’t either. Come on… We can do this together.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #belphie has depression #fightme #you'd probably win #non-confrontational

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characteroulette · 3 years

Text

well all rightie then, it’s time to analyse how DGS1 handles grief really well in my opinion

(once again, spoilers for all of DGS1)

(also some spoilers for the original trilogy games) (and a little of DGS2)

okay So my thesis statement here is that Asougi’s character in DGS1 is the vessel through which Ryuunosuke and Susato’s grief is explained. Everything about how they relate to Asougi is their dealing with their grief in a simple message: Loss hits hard, but you have to continue to live and love. Life Goes On, shaping that grief into yourself if you allow it.

We start off with Case 1 as our baseline. The set-up. It’s a routine to show what life is like for Ryuunosuke before tragedy. (Fitting for an AA protagonist to have their baseline of normal being accused of murder.) This case does a really, really good job of setting up Asougi as our friend, our partner, whom we might spend the rest of the game with.

(I mean, the death flag’s kinda obvious if you’re genre-savvy; the mentor must die so that the student may grow into their own. But Asougi’s so likeable! He’s confident, genuine with Ryuunosuke, comfortably teasing, and looks at you with the same eyes as Klavier. What’s not to love? Also that small hint of something deeper is so tantalising that for it to go unresolved is pretty unthinkable.)

It’s important for us to see how much Asougi means to Ryuunosuke, how much the two really are best friends. This set-up is pivotal to what happens next in Case 2: the drop.

The way Ryuunosuke reacts to learning about Asougi’s death is real. He tries to deny it at first, can’t bring himself to believe it. Especially since he’s been accused of the crime! But the moment he sees that photo of Asougi that Sherlock took, that’s where the truth of it hits and he can’t run from it anymore. All he can do is try to push past that biting grief to at least solve his friend’s murder and set things right.

Susato’s own grief is portrayed really well here, too. She’s so angered and clouded by it that she totally ignores the fact that Asougi and Ryuunosuke are best friends and believes Ryuunosuke to be the murderer. Really, she just blames Ryuunosuke because it’s easier that way, since the wound cuts just as deep for her.

What really strikes me, though, is how the whole case isn’t just a one-note misery. Like real life, the two slip into sadness when they remember their dear friend, but they’re still able to joke around. They still get upset or sarcastic or excited. Because, though their grief affects them immensely, the message is that life continues. It can’t just stop for them like it did for their friend; life goes on. Not out of malice, but out of necessity.

Also, the way Sherlock acknowledges their grief is pretty great. That felt hugely validating to me, how he tells them that their mourning is important and how his jovial, joking tone was never properly taking that into account. The way he continues breaking in at the end to lighten the mood, too, is his own genuine way of trying to help, exhausting though he may be. It’s appreciated, at the least, to keep us the players from breaking down into tears as the conclusion rolls with no real satisfaction at the mystery being solved.

That final conversation between Susato and Ryuunosuke, at least, is hugely cathartic to make up for that. It sounds like it should feel rushed, honestly, dealing with the majority of the grieving process in just Case 2, but it doesn’t at all. It seems properly healthy, like the two are doing their best by confiding and taking comfort in one another in order to celebrate Asougi’s goals, to keep going where he can’t. Ryuunosuke and Susato both form their resolve here to continue to live, not just for Asougi, but for themselves as well. For life’s sake.

Because, again, life goes on.

(A brief tangent: Seeing the contrast of this story versus the original trilogy is also a really neat sort of view into Shu Takumi’s growth as a writer. Or the AA series’ growth as a whole. How Edgeworth handled his grief by never really acknowledging it in AA1, how he basically ran away from it by refusing to live as a sort of punishment against himself, is really sad. Then Phoenix handling his grief in JFA by turning to anger and resentment is just as heartbreaking. Phoenix disavows himself from it, trying to spare himself the pain by denying it, which only hurt him more and he had to have everyone around him break him out of that awful mindset. Then in T&T it’s Godot’s grief which drives the plot, as he turns his anger on Phoenix unjustly. He blames Phoenix for Mia’s death and lashes out at everyone instead of allowing himself the time to properly grieve.

And then DGS1 comes along to say that maybe the answer is just that life goes on and we have healthier ways to reconcile with our grief and it’s just real neat to see!)

In Case 3 and 4, we can see through Ryuunosuke’s discussion with Lord Vortex (/Stronghart) the continuation of his handling this grief. It’s a burden, one Ryuunosuke doesn’t fully understand, but he fervently takes upon himself because we want to live for those we’ve lost. (It is the Wright way, the Naruhodou way, to take on the aspirations of the friends you’ve lost. To mimic their mannerisms, their ambitions, in order to keep them close to your heart.)

(That’s a whole other can of worms I could dive into, honestly, how their decision to give Ryuunosuke all of Phoenix’s poses for the whole ancestor vibe while ALSO making it clear that Ryuunosuke took them from Asougi to begin with, it’s just. It’s good, it’s perfect, it’s the same brand of gay the series is known for and I’m love it.)

You also see, as the trial of Case 3 progresses, how Ryuunosuke is basically just living off of ‘what would Asougi do?’ as Susato coaches him along and it’s fun and bittersweet all the way through. Case 4 is where he gains more confidence in himself, but he still defaults to thinking of Asougi’s unwavering trust in him to help him and every time it’s handled with tenderness and shows just how much Ryuunosuke loved his friend.

And, if you’re like me and take every opportunity to examine Asougi’s badge and present it to Susato (/others), you see how they continue to grow with their grief. It starts off with both of them being unable to say much, still weighed down heavily by Asougi’s loss. Though they are continuing and life goes on, it’s still a wound too fresh to approach and hard for them to properly explain.

By Case 5, though, the two of them are more conversational. They’ve found their words, they’ve mended that wound as much as possible so that life won’t leave without them. It still hurts, of course, but it’s easier to think about. It’s easier to reconcile when they’ve been working hard and making friends and continuing to live. It’s small, but the progression is there and I really appreciate it.

Speaking of Case 5, though, everything about this one, in regards to Asougi, is pure catharsis. It really is like they’re looking their grief right in the face and accepting it as a part of themselves. Ryuunosuke looks back on his friend not just with fondness, but with gratefulness that Asougi could make such a big impact on his life.

(This is similar to the whole Phoenix and Mia thing, I feel, since Phoenix often thought of his mentor with the same sort of tone. At least, I think so. Remarkable how Phoenix’s grief can mirror the finalised version of Ryuunosuke’s with the help of spirit channeling! /joke)

Ryuunosuke and Susato have etched Asougi into their hearts and their persons and it’s just really, very good I like it a lot.

(okay time for a few paragraphs on DGS2 and Asougi)

Case 1 one DGS2 is a neat look into Susato’s mind and thought process. You can definitely tell she’s still just a 16-year-old with the mistakes she makes and how she tries to handle her own arguments, which is very cute. We also get to see her actually talking to Asougi’s grave and then see how her own relationship with Asougi has influenced her style (/poses) and aspirations. (Ryuunosuke, too. It’s cute to see how she’s ended up a mixture of both of them.) And it’s a great rug pull moment for the player, since the way that the grief is handled in DGS1 is so good and (almost) final that hearing Asougi might not actually be dead is a bit like digging up old wounds. I mean, we went the entirety of the first game coming to terms with his death, what do you mean his body went missing??

(Case 2 serves as a reminder. Like haha remember how Susato and Ryuunosuke both love Asougi and are sad about his death? Here’s the baseline again, get ready to have it wrecked!)

And Case 3 is phenomenal, too. The way Van Zieks is so understanding in his response to showing him Asougi’s badge is just. It’s perfect, he’s so gentle and empathetic that it shocks Ryuunosuke (even though Ryuunosuke did the same understanding and concern for Van Ziek’s situation Ryuunosuke please). Then the way that Ryuunosuke sees Asougi, disguised in a cloak and mask, and immediately recognises him. To me, that really shows how much he loved his friend. He knew Asougi for about a year and it’s been about nine months since Asougi’s death, yet Ryuunosuke recognises him just by the way he carries himself.

But, to him, Asougi is dead. He’s made peace with that. So, even if it plays on his mind, he can’t allow himself to think that. He puts it out of his mind completely and doesn’t think on it again.

At least, until Susato (who reacted very realistically by shutting down the possibility that Asougi might still be alive because that means Sherlock lied and she couldn’t take having that hope break her worse than before) sees the exact same thing just as immediately and shouts after him. The fact that they both see this disguised man and know it can be no one besides Asougi is insane. It’s love. It makes me cry, I wish they could’ve hugged him during the big reveal (though I know Japanese culture’s just not like that).

Anyway, DGS2 diatribe over. Back to the conclusion.

The whole of DGS1 is just a masterful example of how grief doesn’t have to destroy you, of how life can go on and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing, and how channeling that grief into motivation to keep their memories alive can be powerful. That it’s okay to still feel grief even as you heal, that it’s okay to have fun and keep living even as you mourn. Life is a mixture of levity and tragedy and, to me, DGS1 nails that mixture with perfection.

Absolutely legendary. Join me next time when I dive into the main theme of DGS2, which is literally ‘the dead will come back to life to haunt you’ thanks for coming to my essay talk

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Tainted

*gifs not mine*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this is inspired by a hc @sweater-daddiesdumbdork once wrote me and gave me a frigging murder kink. Life ruiner😡😡

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Steve saves you and plans on never letting you go again.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), kidnappings, being held hostage, murder, blood, non descriptive violence, captain kink, slight murder kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 6.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

One of the most amazing thing about living with you was that Steve never had to come home to an empty house. He was now responsible for you, he’d have to shoot you a text message, he had gotten pretty good at texting, thanks to your guidance, or call you, he definitely liked calling and hearing your voice better. He’ll always be old school.

You’d get that slight waver in your voice as you tried to pretend that you weren’t sad, he could see your cute little pout through the phone. And while he would never want to cause you any sort of pain, knowing that you’d be waiting for him, that you’re missing him when he’s away, made him feel wanted.

That even someone like him deserved love and happiness and a safe, boring life. That may be there was a reason he died only to wake up again in a strange new world.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t come with your own set of challenges. You were messy if anything, leaving clutter everywhere and putting off doing your dishes and laundry for days. Maybe not the most practical but definitely the cutest roommate in the world.

He’d learn to put up with it because it was worth it. Maybe, he could even learn to 'let loose' a little as people always recommended to him.

At first, he couldn’t wait to ask you to marry him. He had even impulsively bought a ring with your birthstone, he knew you were obsessed with them and astrology and maybe even dark magic. But then you surprised him with a date to an old diner and introduced him as your boyfriend to your friends.

He liked your friends quite a lot, he couldn’t really understand what they were talking about half the time. From what he could tell - by their fascination with his muscles and all the touching and squeezing to his biceps, them wanting to hear about his life before the ice - it seemed that they liked him too.

But hearing you call him that, your guy, your boyfriend, your beau, as your friend Stacey had put it, he decided that he wasn’t quite ready to let go of this blissful courting period. He was rushing things.

He needed to live in the moment and just enjoy being your boyfriend for now, he had all the time in the world to wife you up - preferably not to late though.

He was so unbelievably happy, ecstatic to see you, to surprise you, his mission ending a week early he got home as soon as he could. He thought of maybe taking you to Vermont for the weekend, he had never been but Nat told him it’d be a nice little getaway and that you’d love it.

His wide smile slowly fade away as he looked at the state of his door - the latch broken. Forced entry. Somebody broke his door in. He pushed the door wide open and made his way in.

He knew what was to come next but he willed that thought away. Maybe you kicked it in yourself, maybe you forgot your keys. He kept telling himself that because he was terrified of thinking the alternative.

He stepped in as soon as he was able to shake himself out of his haze. Looking at the state of his, and your, apartment. A broken vase, and the coffee table smashed in.

Crouching down to take a closer look he saw some blood on the ceramic. Whoever did this to your home, better hope that it’s wasn’t yours.

He got up, directing his simmering rage towards his new mission. He didn’t panic, not yet, he couldn’t give himself that kind of luxury. His mind coming up with ten different to find you and make the bastards who did this pay.

NOBody can hurt the people he loves, especially his girl, and get away with it.

***

Your eyes fluttered open before scrunching shut to adjust to the harsh fluorescent light. You blinked, looking around you while squinting.

Some sort of empty grey room... a window to the side but it was dark outside. You dress sticking to your skin as your whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Three men in a corner, one for them shouting at the others in a foreign language.

You felt a yip of pain radiating in your arms and then realised they were tied up behind you - strapped to a creaky chair.

You tried to shake free of them, by wiggling your wrists but then winced at the burn it caused, capturing the attention of your kidnappers.

One of them smiled at you, walking towards you.

“Finally awake, are we?” he asked in an abnormally chirpy way. “You were out for quiet some time. Did you sleep well?”

He squatted before you, you could see his face, his cold grey eyes betraying the warm smile that graced his lips. Many white scars littered over his jaw...

And then you remembered.

How you rushed home when you felt someone was following you. Locking the door, you tried to call Steve but couldn’t get through to him.

And then your stalker broke into your home. You tried to smash his head in with a vase but couldn’t really do any real damage. Everything was hazy after that. Maybe he drugged you - you couldn’t recall.

You exhaled shakily when you realised he was watching you both from the corner. You could never forget his dark hoodie and hair. Or fresh cut on his forehead. You had never so much as hurt a fly or even slapped anyone. How you managed to smash his head in you’ll never know.

You looked at the man before you again when you heard him calling out your name, his smile haltered for a moment as he looked back to your stalker.

“I’m sorry about that, he’s a rookie. He’ll be reprimanded soon enough. This wasn’t exactly our plan but we’ve decided to improvise.”

You tried to speak but with your throat and mouth dry and your mind in shock the words wouldn’t come out.

“Oh, that’s alright, don’t struggle. We don’t want anything to do with you, you’re just a normal plain Jane going about your life, aren’t you?”

You could only give him a weak nod, still trying your best to shake yourself free of your bounds without him noticing.

“That’s right. You haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t deserve to have anything bad happen to you, do you?”

You nodded again. Your breath hitched when he got closer to you, in your face, his hands planted on your bare thighs with your skirt pooled just below your hips.

“But we don’t always get what we deserve. You’re close to the Captain, that’s right Michael’s told me all about how taken he is with you. I mean... I never would’ve imagined Captain America would pick someone like you but to each their own,” he cupped your cheek, the cracks in his palm harsh against your soft skin.

“What do you want?” you asked, not looking away from him.

“I want justice. For things to be in the right order. You’ll have to suffer for it, but know that it’s for a good cause.”

“You’re wrong,” you shook your head, “he’ll come for me.”

“We’re counting on that,” he snickered.

You’re not sure what came over you, all you knew was that you wanted his disgusting hands off of you, “He’ll come for me, and then you’ll regret ever touching me.”

“Uh, I don’t know about this,” you pulled on a thread from your skirt with your right hand, your other hand in Steve’s as he held onto your waist, pulling you into his side. “It’ll be inside me?” you shuddered.

“Yes, but,” Bruce scratched his head, he was adorable like that. You never would’ve imagined him to be the hulk, a 'rage monster’. “it’s not as bad as you think. You won’t even feel it. All shield agents and Avengers have one. Except Thor, because that wouldn’t be of any use. The radius is only on earths surface. You would’ve thought that would be enough,” he chuckled.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, looking at the chip, smaller than an acrylic nail, watching Bruce load it up.

“I know it’s not ideal, doll. But I’ll feel much better knowing I can find you, in case something goes wrong.” He kissed your temple, as you braced yourself.

“Will it hurt?” you gulped as Bruce lined the shooter or gun, by the looks of it, to your forearm.

“Just a little. You’ll barely feel it.” He gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Look at me, pup,” Steve gripped your chin, moving your head till you looked into his blue eyes, he pressed his lips to yours, massaging your tongue with his to distract you.

“Mm,” you winced and moaned into his mouth when you felt the piercing pain. It was like getting a flu shot but you had never having been a huge fan of needles either.

He released his hold on you as Bruce worked on cleaning your the blood seeping through your pierced skin. “You did good.” Steve said.

“Do I get a sucker?” You asked Bruce and he chuckled - as if you were joking, you do not joke about candy, “No I really want one.”

“Let’s keep this between us.” Steve told you both.

“Of course,” Bruce nodded, “I can keep tracker dormant till we need it but are you sure?”

“I’m not sure who I can trust.” But he knew he could trust his teammates.

You sniffled, keeping your tears at bay because really something so little shouldn’t make you cry, rubbing your hand over your wounded bicep as Bruce handed you some gummy bears.

“They’re Tony’s. He leaves snacks everywhere, it’s annoying.”

“Thank you.” You blinked up at him and offered some to Steve.

You never thought you’d need it. Until now, you were sure your friends or your mother would notice that you’ve been gone and Steve will find out and track you down. You knew he would. He had to.

He frowned, his nails digging into your cheekbones, pluckering your lips, “Where’s all that confidence coming from?” he quirked a curious brow up, “He’ll walk right in and pay for everything he’s done,” he snorted.

“You’re way underprepared to take someone like him on,” shut up, shut up, shut up, why the fuck are you egging him on? “He’s strong, he’s a survivor.” Even without the serum, he survived an abusive household, being bullied, being sick, and you knew how protective he could be. To the point where it was downright irritating.

“We’ve got all the time in the world to prepare, you should be worrying about yourself,” he spat.

You had always been bold, even in the most inappropriate of situations. Like when you lectured a boy for over an hour on respecting boundaries for throwing spitballs at you, in kindergarten. Steve even said that he fell for that ‘spunk' in you.

‘Well-behaved women rarely make history’ your mother had told you.

And really, you liked that about yourself as well. You liked that you found a man that would encourage that side of you instead of calling you ‘difficult’ or ‘bossy’.

However, you immediately regretted everything you had said. Not because it was untrue, but because your captor took out a sharp pocket knife, a dark glint in his eyes.

“We only need you alive,” he said as you gulped, “I suppose, it wouldn’t matter if you’re missing a finger or two.”

You frantically shook your head, choking on a sob. “No,” you pleaded, “you’ll... he will find me and you will - ”

“Go to prison at best. It’s a risk we’re all willing to take,” he put the blunt end of the knife against your cheek, “We have to do something to kill the time.”

You couldn’t breath, your heart hammering in your chest, what if he doesn’t come for you? You won’t be able to do anything about it. It wasn’t like you could protect yourself, at least in this situation, all you could do was wait for him.

You shut your eyes, and braced yourself for the pain. Except... it never came, you simply heard someone fall down, some sort of clattering sound.

Upon opening your eyes you saw one of his friends face down before your in the corner, the other guy, your lovely stalker, drawing out his gun, looking at the only window to your left. You swore you a saw a glimpse of a flying disk knocking your stalker out.

The man before you cursed under his breath, “Get. Up. Come on!” he ordered.

“Yeah, if I could do that I probably would’ve,” you snarked, still trying to get your aching wrists free.

You barely even registered - who could only be your Captain - sneaking up behind him, snapping his neck with his hands in a matter of seconds. He collapsed on the ground and you could finally see Steve.

His clenched jaw and cold eyes softened up on seeing you, you couldn’t help but let out a sob as you realised you were going to be free.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he soothed you, kissing your forehead before swiftly free your hands.

You stood up on wobbly legs, holding onto his arms for support, “Steve,” you breathed out, “you came for me.”

“Of course I did,” he sighed, gently pushing your face against his chest as he hugged you close to him. “As if I’d ever abandon you,” he smoothed a hand over your back and decided to not dwell on your comment. This wasn’t about him, you were in shock.

“I was so scared,” you sniffled, “he said, he - ” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you broke down in a fit of sobs and hiccups.

“You’re safe now,” he promised.

“You - did you kill him?” you pushed away from him to look up at his face so you could take him in.

You had never seen him in his uniform. Only ever seeing him on the news but he had his cowl on and a suit that was much more on brand for ‘Captain America’ than the darker one he had on now. It made him look bigger - if that was even possible. Bigger than the shield now strapped to his back.

His usually clean shaven face had the faintest shadow to it while his hair was slicked back. He looked beautiful, so soft and innocent, definitely not someone who’s capable of hurting anyone.

“He hurt you,” he replied, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised wrists, “and so many others, he got what was coming to him.”

“You knew him?”

“Yes. He got away the last time we tried to catch him - but we don’t have to talk about that right now. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m just thirsty and I really want to lay down,” you murmured, resting your head on the star in the middle of his chest.

He pressed a hand to his ear, letting his team know that he had found you. You vaguely saw agents clad in black gear storm the room.

“We did a sweep of the place. No one else is here,” Natasha said. “How you doing?” and then frowned when you didn’t respond.

“She’s tired. It’s okay, love,” he kissed your temple, snaking a hand under your knees and picking you up with ease.

You weakly nodded, wrapping your hands around his neck, glad to be babied by him because you didn’t have the strength to stand.

“They didn’t give you anything to eat?” Nat scoffed as you shook your head.

“How long have I been here?” you looked at Steve, struggling to stay awake.

“A day and a half. We’ll get you fixed up,” he swore, carrying you towards the quinget.

“Where are we?” you nuzzled your nose against the rough kevlar of his suit.

“Bermuda,” he said.

“Oo, I’ve always wanted to come here... just maybe not like this,” you chuckled but Steve didn’t find it all that amusing. You cupped his cheek in your palm, hoping to maybe calm him down a bit before falling asleep.

***

You vaguely heard a familiar voice calling out your name, you’d recognise it anywhere, it was one of your favorites, one you’d known your entire life.

“Mom?” you muttered, opening your eyes and looking around the room to look for her. You smiled when you saw her sitting on a chair just beside your bed, the faint, annoying beeping told you that you were probably in a hospital.

“Hey there, honey,” she smiled back at you, her eyes misty as she pressed her lips to your cheek. “Do you have any idea how much you scared me?”

“I’m sorry,” you tried to sit up as she fluffed your pillow up to support you. “I was... um... kidnapped.” Saying it out loud made it feel so ridiculous. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought.

“Yes, Steve filled us in on everything. So, Captain America, huh?” she raised her brows.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. Doing a once over to your large, mostly white room to look for him. He wouldn’t just up and leave you, would he?

“How long has it been going on?” she asked.

“Um, three or four months?” you winced when you realised just how much trouble you were in.

“And, you live with him. Linda filled us in on everything. You’re quitting your job too now.”

“It’s - it’s not as bad as it sounds...”

“Never mind that, you need to rest. Then you won’t have to worry about all this. I’m taking you home with me. And you’re never coming back here again.”

“What? No! I still have over two years of school left.”

“You can do it online! You can find just as a good a job in Queens.”

“No! I’m not coming,” you whined.

“Well, you’re not living with a man you barely know either.”

You were interrupted by a knock on the door. A doctor entering, apologising for disturbing you and Steve right behind her. He still hadn’t changed out of his suit.

He stood at the end of your bed, squeezing your foot to let you know he was there for you as your mother glared daggers at him.

“Looks like you’re doing good. Blood sugars back to normal as well...” the doctor said, “You’re free to go home.”

“Really?” you smiled. So done with everything. Sleeping in your own bed sounded like heaven.

“Yes, let us know if you need anything.” She looked over your chart again and then left.

“Good then, you can come home now.”

“No! I’m going to my apartment in Manhattan, the one I share with Steve.” You rolled your eyes. Pleading Steve to back you up with your eyes.

He cleared his throat, “Um, ma'am, you can come stay with us, if you like.”

He held your mothers gaze, to let her know that he was serious and earnest.

He knew he wasn’t perfect by any means. He had a million flaws and cuts that ran deeper than anybody would ever know but he always thought, or maybe arrogantly assumed, that if nothing else he was someone ‘you take home to mama’ as Clint had once put it. He thought that your parents, like most, would like him. That he’d easily get their blessing to be with their daughter. He was known to be America’s golden boy after all.

But your mother had ripped him a new one as soon as she saw him. Accusing him of abusing his power to woo you. That you were here because of him. That he’s not worthy of you.

And all he could do was stand there and take it because everything she had said was the truth. He didn’t deserve you, you were captured and possibly traumatised because of him.

At the same time, he couldn’t just let you go. Not till he gets to the bottom of who had hurt you and makes sure that you’re safe from now on.

“No, thank you.” She scoffed, looking back at you and shaking her head. “What are you doing with your life?”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes but being with Steve definitely isn’t one,” you looked over to him, he looked just as tired as you, “I just want to go home. My home with Steve.”

“Fine, I’ve always let you make your own decisions.” she sighed, finally giving in.

“And I’ve never disappointed you.”

“That’s debatable,” she snorted, “I’ll come check on you tomorrow then. Maybe send me your address. You know? Something you should’ve done months ago.” She returned to glaring at Steve.

“I’ve only been living with him for a month!” you tried to defend yourself.

***

“I can take off my own clothes, Stevie,” you giggled, him kneeling before you to help you out of the sweets the med bay gave you. Your dress was dirty and ragged now. “I really liked that dress though. I don’t have many like it. You think we can get it back?”

“Maybe, I’ll see what I can do, doll,” he kissed your bare thigh before rolling your panties down your legs.

“You’re kinda dirty too,” you remarked, sniffing him. He didn’t smell bad, as if Steve would ever smell bad to you. Just a bit of gunpowder, like that of firecrackers, a bit pungent instead of his normal piney and woodsy scent.

“Thank you,” he deadpanned before cracking a smile, “I was just excited to see you. Or I would’ve showered before coming home and then I didn’t get a chance to.”

He worked on unbuttoning your shirt He insisted on you getting a button up instead of a t-shirt considering how sore your arms were from being toed up for so long. Tied up... like an animal.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, caressing his cheek, “come back to me.”

“Sorry, I’m just... I don’t know,” he shook his head. He couldn’t let you know the guilt and despair he felt, you’d end up comforting him instead of the other way around. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Yeah. Still can’t believe any of this was real.” Running your hands up and down his suit, the feel of the material almost soothing to touch. “You wanna shower with me?”

“Don’t know, doll. That showers pretty small.”

He did have a pretty generous salary but opted to live in a more modest apartment, he never took more than he needed anyway, with a small shower. Not too small, but definitely not big enough for you both.

“We’ll make do, come on. I’ll make you squeaky clean.”

He took over ten minutes to get rid of the suit. You watched intently as he removed more latches than you could count.

“Is it bulletproof?” you wanted to know.

“Yes. But probably not as good as a vest. I’ve never been shot so I wouldn’t know.” He answered, taking off his undershirt.

“It’s funny because I always thought y’all were naked under there,” you chuckled, and then your jaw dropped as he took off his briefs.

You had never seen his cock while it was soft before. He was always more than excited when you got to him. It was amazing how pretty he looked either way.

“You and so many other people,” he almost shuddered at the thought of having been asked the same question so many times.

After making sure the water was hot enough, you both stood under it.

You took some of the lavender wash you had bought from lush, squeezing it on your sponge. Steve, bless him, was amazing at so many things. Shopping - it seemed was not one of them. All he had in his bathroom was a bar of soap, one toothbrush and a vintage straight razor.

Which just won’t do for you, so you took it upon yourself to stock the whole place up with your favorite stuff. The lavender being Steve’s favorite, you remembered how flustered you got when he told you that you smelled good. And then tried to explain that you always smell good while turning redder than a tomato.

You did his front, asking him to bent his neck a bit so you could wash his hair because he was almost a foot taller than you. You were about to do his legs, you’d take any excuse to feel up his thick thighs but he told you he’d do the rest himself.

Taking the sponge from you, he ran it under some water, working on cleaning you thoroughly. Under your arms, your breasts, your stomach, between your legs and then your legs.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - he knew that since the moment he had met you. But something about washing you up like that felt so intimate even though there was nothing erotic about it.

After washing you thoroughly he wrapped you up in a towel, “My cute lil' burrito,” he booped your nose.

You puffed your cheeks out, you weren’t sure if you liked that nickname. Observing just how gentle he was with you, helping you into a cotton nightie, as opposed to drying himself off hastily and carelessly before pulling some sweats and briefs on.

“Don’t wear a shirt,” you pleaded, he looked amazing shirtless, but that wasn’t the only reason, you really liked feeling his skin on hours, pressing kissing on his perfect, smooth, golden skin, ”pretty please.” Right now, he’d give you anything you wanted and you intended on milking that as much as you can.

“Alright, doll,” he replied, pulling you up in his arms again as if you were his bride, as you giggled so sweetly, “now, what would you like to eat? No take out, it has to be healthy. And remember my culinary skills are limited,” he said, carrying you to the living room and putting you on the couch as he started working in the kitchen.

“Stevie, I’m not hungry. Well, that’s not true, I’d like some ice cream,” fluttering your lashes at him, “Mint chocolate chip? I’m pretty sure we have some.”

“Of course, puppy,” you smiled, at the prospect of getting a sweet treat and the nickname, “as soon as you eat something.” He added and you huffed in annoyance.

He whipped up a sandwich for you, two for him because he was starving, some peach iced tea so you wouldn’t eat his ear off while complaining.

You only picked at your food, giving more than half of it to him. You truly didn’t feel like eating, instead craving some cuddles with him.

You tried striking up a conversation with him multiple times. Not because you didn’t like silence. You did when it came to him, you could go hours without talking and it would feel so serene and perfect. You never had to talk just for the sake of it when you were with him.

But you had come to read Steve pretty well. He seemed distant and closed off. The air around you both thick with tension. You tried to ease it while telling him about how brave you were while quitting and didn’t cry at all, how Tony dropped by and was apparently stalking you - which was a bad idea because it seemed to make him angry, clench his jaw tight, his brows furrowed as he placed your plates in the sink.

Unsure if you had done something wrong or were mean to Tony, who was technically his boss, you twiddled with your fingers, “Um... I - I’m sorry,” you stuttered, trying to hold back tears. Spending the night at your mom’s house sounded like the better choice now.

“Hm?” he looked back at you, he could do the dishes tomorrow, “what for?”

“I shouldn’t have been snarky with Tony. I know he’s your boss and all that but he’s kinda cocky... And I got really mad when I found out he did like a ‘background check' on me. I mean I get why he would but still. I can apologize to him.”

“No no,” he shook his head, kneeling before you, taking your hands in his, “you misunderstood, love. I’m not mad at you, I could never REALLY be mad at you. It’s Tony I’m angry with, he went behind my back, ambushed you at work.”

“To be fair, you did the same when you asked me out,” you snickered as a blush crept up his neck.

“Right.” He finally cracked a genuine smile placing feather light kisses on your knuckles and the to the bandages on your hands.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you asked, running your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails.

“It’s probably better if we don’t talk about it,” he said, laying his head on your lap. Your slight scratching massaging his never-resting head.

“I think we should. My mom said I don’t know you. And to some extent, she is right. I don’t. Maybe I’m just imagining things but... sometimes it feels like you’re holding back.”

He gathered enough courage to look up at you, your almond shaped eyes looking down at his and he knew that he could talk to you about anything. He did. But there will always be that little voice that tells him that he shouldn’t. He would only trouble you.

“Don’t you pride yourself on being honest?” you caressed his scratchy cheek.

He snorted. He really was dense enough to think he was the perfect son-in-law package.

“I just, the way you looked at me, when I killed that man, I’m afraid that you’re scared of me now. That’s the last thing I want. It’s my worst nightmare really.” He leant into your touch.

“Steve, that wasn’t because I’m scare of you. It was because I’m fond of you. You were so strong and brave and you saved me. I liked being the damsel in distress more than I thought,” He chuckled at that, his doubts a bit relieved, “that’s... not all though.” You murmured.

“What is it?” he wanted to know.

“You, um, the fact that you would do that for me... it’s just. I never thought anyone would love me that much.”

“I only regret doing it in front of you. I’m sorry you had to see that or go through any of that.”

“I’m not a child, Steve,” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course not, but you’re you. You’re pure and an angel. I - I’m tainted - tainted by blood, tainted by war - ”

“Steve, that’s not true. You’re not, you’re the pure-est person I know. War and - that doesn’t define you.”

“You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew about all the things I have done, sweetheart.” The sweet nickname he had for you, which now he used in a patronising tone, “I let my best friend die. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“What’re you talking about?” you frowned. You heard about Bucky from him and your history textbooks but you don’t remember reading anything like that.

“It’s... something I’m not ready to get into.” He put his forehead on your knee. He knew you loved him but there was only so much baggage you would be willing to accept.

“Okay. You can take your time and tell me if and when you’re ready, baby.” You went back to idly playing with his, “But I need you to know that I love you. Nothing you could ever say will change that. To think that... for a second I thought that you wouldn’t come for me.”

He snapped his head back up, “What?”

“I thought, that you’d be busy with your mission. You wouldn’t even find out I was missing or... you just wouldn’t care enough to come yourself. I mean, I knew you would come, obviously. But you have other more important work...”

“No,” he shook his head, “How could you ever think anything's more important to me than you and your life?”

“Yeah, I was being stupid.”

“You can be a bit silly sometimes, doll.” He nuzzled your tummy, making you giggle. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I was so scared I’d never see you again,” he confessed against your nightgown.

“That’d be a bit hard to do. Keeping an eye on me like that. But if it means I get to spend more time with you then I’m down.”

You convinced Steve to let you have some ice cream. He only let you have half a scope, telling you that you’d have trouble sleeping otherwise.

“I’ve been sleeping for most of the last two days.” You tried to argue but it was hard to change his mind once he had it set on something.

You both brushed your teeth together and he stared at you as you went about your night-time skincare routine.

Cleanse, serum, moisturize, sleep mask.

All he did was wash his face and he still looked fucking perfect.

He stayed true to his word, sticking by your side to the point where you had to kick him outside to have some privacy to pee in peace. He was right there waiting for you when you opened the door.

Finally, you were in your cosy bed. Light’s off and cuddled tight with your boyfriend. Your stuffed unicorn and your Captain America plushie to your other side.

With your legs tangled together, you rubbed your feet up and down his legs. Which were unfortunately covered with his sweats.

“Steve,” you whined.

“Yes?”

“Take off these damn pants. They’re hurting my skin. So friggin' prickly.”

“Sorry, doll. I know how precious your skin is.” He sounded like he was mocking you but he followed, pushing his pants away.

“Good?” he asked holding you close to him again.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed against his naked chest. “Let’s sleep like this everyday, please.”

“Sure.” He replied. He liked being a ‘human furnace' for you.

He wasn’t going to fall asleep. Not after everything that happened. He hadn’t slept well in the past week but he was afraid that if he’d shut his eyes for a single moment and you’d be gone. This time, he wouldn’t be lucky enough to find you.

He hadn’t been to crunch or even prayed in a while. Losing his faith a long time ago after all the terrible things he had seen. But he had prayed when he came back found his home to be wreck. He prayed that you’d come back to him because there were some things he just could not control. Nobody could.

After a while he lowly whispered your name. “Are you awake?” he asked.

It was silly but he missed you. Even though you were laying right next to him in his arms - the safest place you could be.

“Yeah. I can’t sleep. Even though I’m so tired.” You yawned. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” You snorted. “You’re not a good liar, Steven.”

“Can I ask you something? And you can say no if you want I won’t mind.”

“Sure, shoot.”

“Can I, um, have you? I just need to feel you, sweetheart. After everything – I need to know you’re really here.” he was cut off by your lips crashing on his.

You winced when your teeth clamped together but he soothed your upper lip by nipping at it with his tongue.

“Steve,” you panted as he broke awake, shifting under the sheets and pushing the helm of your gown up.

He placed quick open mouthed kisses all over your thighs, over your stretch marks, spreading your thighs further to accommodate his broad shoulders, he made sure to check in with you again.

All you did was push his head towards your heat, begging him to eat your pussy - as if he needed to be told twice.

Swirling and spreading your glistening juices of arousal around your weeping lips, he dove in for his prize. Drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves before sucking at it harshly, he plunged his tongue inside. Lacing his fingers with yours and pinning your hands down by your hips.

You kept desperately pushing your hips up, wanting more. Arching your back up and holding onto his hands tightly as he lightly grazed his teeth over your clit.

“Say my name, sweetheart,” he demanded against your heat, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

Your orgasm washing over you in waves, electrifying every nerve in your body as you clamped your legs around his head, holding onto him.

He kept lapping you up through it, taking everything you’d give him.

He loved worshipping you - spending as much time as he could between your legs - because you were his goddess but right now, he just needed to feel you.

He climbed up the bed, hovering over you, he pushed two thick fingers inside you mouth till the second knuckle.

“Get them nice and wet, doll.” He instructed.

You moaned around him, making loud suckling noises, “Yesh, Captain,” it came out muffled, what with your mouth full.

“Captain?” he smirked. You had only ever called him that as a joke, he never knew being called that in a salacious way could stroke a fire inside him. Making him them painfully hard in the confines of his tight briefs. He pulled his fingers out of you, pushing his hand down till it was between your legs. Nudging your entrance with them.

“Sorry, it slipped out.” You were too unabashed to feel guilty.

He scoffed, “Say it again.”

Pushing his fingers inside you. Pumping them at a fast pace before you even had a second to think. It was desperate and fast so unlike how it is usually between you both. He needed to be inside you but your needs would always come before his.

“Captain,” you mewled, chewing on your lower lip and holding onto his face. You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you still need to look at him. “I told them my Captain would come for me. And you did...” he swallowed your screams with his mouth as you clenched around his fingers.

“That’s right,” he groaned, sucking your slick off of his fingers, “I’ll always protect you. I’ll do anything for you.”

Shaky fingers working on taking his cock out of the hard confines of his uncomfortable underwear. He didn’t waste a single second before sinking inside you, as deep as he could. He moaned into your neck, “So fucking tight, doll. Like you were made for me,” he bit your neck.

Drawing his hips back he thrusted inside you, brushing against your g-spot, making you keen.

He stopped immediately, propping himself up on his elbows he looked down at your hooded eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, “Yes, it’s just so good,” as if to prove it you clenched around his length, to make him feel all of you just as he was doing to you.

He groaned at that, his balls already tightening, aching for release, “What’s the safe word?”

“Mm... buttercream.”

“That’s right, good girl,” he cooed as you whimpered at his praise as he withdrew his hips again, loving you in a slow soft way.

Pushing your gown up till it was above your breasts - he didn’t really have the patience to properly take it off. He sucked a spot just above your breast, so you’d remember his love every time you looked at it. Your nipples pebbled and goose bumps painted your skin, with your cunt tight around him he knew you were close.

Wrapping his mouth around one bud, He pulled and pinched at the other. He stopped his ministrations, he needed to look at you as you climaxed. To know that you needed him at least half as much as he needed you.

Your face scrunched up as you met your bliss, your nails drawing blood from shoulders - not that he cared in the slightest.

His hips retracting and thrusting as he lost all sense of rhythm and finesse chasing his end as you laid boneless beneath him. He kept fucking into you, filling you to the brim.

He heaved above you, making sure not to collapse on top of you. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of you.

Pulling you close to him, his lips pressed up against the crown of your head, he whispered sweet nothings to you. “My brave girl.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “You’re so strong, sweetheart.”

“Stronger than the hulk?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replied, tracing the bandages wrapped around your wrists. “Now try to get some sleep.”

“Oh, I’ll sleep alright. Thanks to you.” You giggled.

***

tags will be in the reblog.

this was my longest fic!i know it wasnt the best conclusion to something i drew outover 4 chapters but its the best i could do. sorry for weird format tumblrs mad i had too much fun lol. comments and reblogs are really appreciated!!

#the donut series #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #berry writes

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frattsparty · 3 years

Text

My Heart Needed You Part 12

An: I’ve had this written for a bit and then rewrote it again, so enjoy. I’m in Florida on vacation so I might do some extra writing this week.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, language, Nestor being a sad boy. Nobody under 18!!

Tag List: @nessamc @withmyteeth @redpoodlern @lexondeck @thegirlwhowritesfics @chibsytelford

The weekend with the boys was exactly what you needed, and being able to talk with Wendy and Venus surprisingly made you feel a little lighter.

You aren’t quite ready to share everything with Nestor but you knew he loved you, and that once you are comfortable telling him you won’t lose him. What Jose did won’t change his love for you like you thought it would all those years ago.

Loading your bag into the car, you turn around and give Nero a tight squeeze, “Thank you for taking care of them, keeping them safe.”

“They’re family to me, just like you, I’m always here for you.” Kissing the side of your head he releases you.

“I’m going to miss you, Hailey!” Wendy says as she pulls you in. “Next time bring that man of yours with you.”

Chuckling, “I will, he will love how peaceful it is here.”

Next up are the boys, leaving will be so hard but you are already planning your next visit. “Okay boys, be good, I love you both so so much!” You are all squeezing each other as tight as you all could.

With another look back you see their little hands waving, “Love you guys!”

“We love you too. You are welcome here anytime.” Wendy yells as she picks up a crying Abel.

Once you’re in the car and on the road, you give Nestor a call letting him know you are on the way back.

Pulling into Miguel’s house you see Nestor waiting on the steps for you, a big smile on his face. He jogs over to open your door before you do,

“Hey baby,” he says as he pulls you from the car and into his arms.

“Hey,” standing on your tiptoes you leave a lingering kiss on his lips, “I missed you.”

Humming, “I missed you too.” Leaving one more kiss, he lets you go and grabs your bag from the back. Taking your hand he leads you inside going straight up to the room. You planned to leave your bag and change your clothes, but before you can do that Nestor has other things in his mind.

He drops your bag the second you shut the door and grabs the sides of your neck smashing his lips with yours. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Your hands have found their way under his shirt scratching his back with your nails, getting a hum of approval from him.

He grabs your ass, lifting you up and into his arms. “You can’t go on any more trips without me,” he says between open mouth kisses on your neck, as your fingers work on the buttons of his shirt.

“I promise.” Shoving his shirt off his shoulders, you run your hands over his bare tattooed chest.

You grab his face and capture his lips in a searing kiss. “Show me how much you missed me, Nes.”

“Gladly, baby.” He quickly carries you and drops you in the bathroom right in front of the mirror. “You want a show, you’ll get a show.”

Before you can respond he’s pulling at the hem of your shirt urging you to lift your arms. Then found his way to your shorts pushing those down too, groaning loudly in your ear when he realizes you had no panties on. “My girl was ready wasn’t she?”

“Always am, Nes.” Your head rolls back resting on his shoulder as his hands roam your body, gently touching and squeezing every inch.

“God you’re so beautiful, Hails.” His kisses are soft along your shoulder. You can’t help but smile at his words, as you lift your head your eyes meet in the mirror.

“You have too many clothes on, Nestor.” Reaching back you grab his covered ass, “you should change that.”

Smirking, his hands leave your body causing you to whimper at the loss of his touch, causing him to let out a quiet laugh. “Patience baby.”

“I’ve never been good at that…”

“Mm I know, you’re pretty demanding.” You can hear him unzipping his pants.

Before he can stop you, you turn so you are facing him, grabbing his face and pulling him into you. The kiss is sloppy, the sounds he’s making are primal, causing your insides to stir. “I need you, Nes.” Slowly your hand finds its way into his pants, squeezing and tugging, until you get what you want.

He pulls your hand away, “turn around, spread your legs.”

Without another word you turn, bracing your hands on the counter. He pushes his pants and boxers down and immediately grabs your hips, squeezing them tightly causing you to gasp.

Situating himself behind you he lines himself up, “you ready?”

“Yeah.”

Your confirmation was all he needed to push inside of you, his forehead landing on your shoulder, both of your moaning loudly.

“You feel so good, Nes.” You breathe out.

Gripping your hips he starts thrusting into you, slow at first and then deeper and faster. Spreading your legs wider giving him the ability to go even deeper. “That’s my girl, you take me so well.”

You can’t speak, you’re barely able to catch your breath as he moves in and out.

“Open your eyes..I want to see your beautiful face…watch what I can do to you…let you see what you do to me.” Each point emphasised by a harder thrust than the last.

Like it always has watching Nestor show his love for you does you in, you are so close, and he can feel it.

“Come on baby, let go, let me feel you.”

“Mmm don’t stop Nes,” your voice comes out more like a whine, but you could care less in the moment. Reaching your hand around you, grab his arm to ground yourself.

Holding him tightly, he can't hang on any longer and releases deep inside you.

“I missed you, Hails, and I meant it, you can’t leave me again.” He whispers while leaving kisses on your neck.

“I won’t, the boys want you to come next time.” You move from his embrace so you can face him,wrapping your arms around his neck. “I missed you.” Reaching up you kiss his lips, soft at first, but he pushes to deepen it.

Picking you up bridal style he carries you over to the bed, laying you down and then moving over you kissing down your body.

Settling between your legs he begins kissing and sucking while his fingers explore your body. You are arching into him, holding his head right where you need him. Just as his fingers found their way between your legs there was a knock in the door.

“Hailey, are you back yet? I was hoping to talk to you.” Emily’s voice came in from under the door.

Nestor’s forehead lands on your hip, while you try to catch your breath. “Think we can act like we aren’t here so we can keep going?”

He shakes his head, “she’s been asking when you were coming home. Should probably get it over with.” He slowly begins kissing up your body.

“Fine…” you roll your eyes. “Yeah, Em, I’m back, give me like 15 minutes and I’ll come find you.” You respond to Emily.

“I’ll be in your office,” she responds back.

Making his way to your neck, nibbling under your ear, “we’ll have to be fast this time.”

“I’ll take what I can get from you,” giggling. You grab the chain hanging from his neck and pull his mouth to yours and you wrap your arms around his shoulder and widen your legs for him. Adjusting he enters you slowly.

“I love you so much, Hailey.” He grabs your hands and holds them next to your head, as he kisses you slowly.

“I love you, Nes, so much.”

As you both cum together, you hold each other sharing kisses and light touches as you catch your breath.

“I guess I should go.” Scratching his neck softly, “how about tonight I can show you how much I missed you?”

“Hmm that sounds good to me, baby.” Pushing himself off of you, he leaves one more kiss to your lips and gets off the bed.

***

Making your way down to your office, you see Emily has papers spread all over. Internally you are screaming, mess, clutter, and disorganization in your office does not work for you.

“What’s up, Em?” She’s sitting in the chair moving papers around. You’re trying to hide your cringe at the chaos that is your office.

“I have an idea on something to get back at the rebels.” She rambles the words out, not taking a breath.

“I can’t know about any of this, I have to be completely dumb to anything you do, Emily.” You sit in the chair across from her, you see her face fall. “It’s not that I don’t want to help you, but I’m here to protect the family, and to do that I have to be unaware of anything you’re involved in so I can easily fight tooth and nail to keep you out of jail, I have to know you're fully innocent.”

“If you have an idea tell them, you’re smart, so smart, you’ve clearly researched, have faith in your plan, present it with confidence.” Giving her a reassuring smile, “Trust me, Miguel will listen. You can do this, Em. Just bring your research and be confident.”

“Thank you.” Giving you a genuine smile she asks about your trip and how the boys were. So the two of you spend some time chatting before you help her get everything in order to meet with Miguel.

The rest of the day went by as normal once you got your office back.

Since Nestor was out you took some work to the bedroom and began researching everything you could about the rebels and how they function. The fact that they could hack the accounts tells you they are skilled and resourceful.

You're not sure how long you've been going over these documents and videos, but you are still awake when Nestor walks in, clearly surprising him.

He kicks his boots off at the door and makes his way over to you. “What’s all this?” He gestures towards the papers you have spread all over the bed.

“Trying to figure out how the Rebels do what they do.” You look up at him, “a group like this shouldn’t be able to hack systems or intervene in what we do, they are bigger than a small time group. I just don’t know how they do it, they have to have a major network.”

“Well there is no way your brain is working at this hour, why don’t you pack it up.” He’s gently rubbing your back and you are starting to feel how tired you are.

“You’re right.” Getting up you both start to get ready for bed, you remove the clothes and pull on one of his shirts and cuddle into your side of the bed. He scoots in behind you holding you tightly to him.

You can feel his breathing relax and his heart rate slow down, you love how peaceful he is when he clocked out of Cartel mode.

“Nes,” you say softly, not sure if he was already asleep.

He hums in response. “Baby I promised you I would show you how much I missed you tonight.” Wiggling under his tight grip you turn yourself to face him.

His eyes are closed, his long dark lashes resting on his cheeks, he’s so handsome. You can’t help but run your fingers gently from his temple to his jaw, you run your thumb across his lips before leaving a soft kiss there which causes him to smile. You move your hand to rest on the side of his neck, your thumb running back and forth in his jaw.

“I love you, Nes, more than you know.”

“I love you too.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders pulling you closer. “And I’ll make good on that promise first thing tomorrow.”

***

It has been a few days and Miguel and Nestor were in Mexico working and suggested you stay away, so you are at your new house meeting with the contractor picking out tile, paint colors, countertops, everything to make this house a home.

“Oh, I have one more request to add in for the kitchen,” you pull a photo from your bag. “I want the backsplash to look like this tile, I think it was hand painted in Mexico.”

“Is that you in the picture?” You nod at him.

“I think I can do that, I’ll call my tile guy in Mexico.” He took a picture of your photo so he could send it to his contact.

“We are ahead of schedule, Hailey, I think you’ll be in probably in a matter of a couple of weeks, maybe less.” He gives you a big smile.

“Really?!” You are so ready to call this place home.

“Yeah, all that’s left is the finishing touches to the bathrooms, and then the kitchen. We actually finished the outside area today,” your eyes lit up, “let’s go see it.”

“Let’s go!”

Your hands are covering your mouth, you are shocked as you step outside. “Oh my gosh, it’s so perfect” your voice is almost a whisper.

You had the patio cleaned up, a fire pit built on one side, and a small outdoor bar/kitchen on the other with chairs and couches facing the ocean taking in the view.

Sitting down you take it all in. You can’t believe that this is all yours.

“I’m glad I didn’t show you this first, we never would have gotten decisions made inside,” your contractor learned quickly that once you were out here he'd lost you.

“This really is perfect, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, I have to head out but I’ll lock the door on my way out so you can enjoy.” He nods to you in farewell and heads inside to leave.

You close your eyes just enjoying the sound of the waves below you and you’re brought back to the day Nestor left for basic training, when becoming a SEAL and law school was just a dream. Just a few months after high school graduation the two of you were preparing for major changes and being away from each other for the first time since preschool.

“What do you look forward to the most with college?” You and Nestor are walking hand in hand along a pier in San Diego, trying to enjoy those last few moments together. Staying at a hotel just the two of you before he flew out the next day.

“Hmm probably all the boys…” he all but growls at that. “I’m kidding baby, you’re it for me.” Bringing his hand to your lips you leave a gentle kiss. “I’m mostly excited for the beach, I plan to do all of my studying on the sand…and in a few months you’ll be back here too.”

He hummed in response, he’d been quiet leading up to his departure.

“You okay, Nes?” You spun to stand in front of him, stopping his movements and wrapped your arms around him. “Talk to me.”

“Do you think I’m making the wrong decision? Going into the Navy.” He looks down at you, “my parents aren’t being very supportive…” you can feel the hurt “they haven’t really talked to me much. I don’t think they even plan to come to the airport with me when I leave.”

You could see the sadness in his eyes and it broke your heart.

“Nes, being a SEAL has been your dream for years. You’ve always wanted to do this.” You squeeze his middle tightly, “I hate the thought of being away from you, for what this career can bring, it scares me. But I am so proud of you and I’m excited for you to go after this dream.”

You take his hands in yours and continue, “you’ve supported me with wanting to be a lawyer, all the crazy classes and college courses I took in high school, the SAT prep, all the college applications, the amount of break downs I’ve had from stress, law school is my dream and you have and continue to support me in everything. Whether or not they are there for you, I always will be.”

He quickly moves his hands to your face and bends down leaving a gentle kiss on your lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you grab his hand and you continue on your walk to the end of the pier. “And I can’t wait to see how fucking good you look in uniform.”

Smirking, “oh I’m going to look fine, baby.”

“Mmm I know you will, and I’m going to have to fight the bitches off of you.” He couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s my girl, ready to fight for her man.”

You made your way to the end of the pier, and you found a bench to sit on so you could watch the sunset.

You're curled up together, your legs across his lap. He gently ran his fingers up and down your legs as you rubbed the back of his neck.

“You haven’t even left yet and I miss you already.” You say as you move to rest your head on his shoulder.

“It’s going to be hard being away from you, but once I can be here I will be.” Running a hand through your hair he leaves a kiss to your forehead. “Promise me you’ll be here when I get back.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Nes. I'd wait forever for you.”

“Let’s head back to the hotel, I want true alone time with you for once,” standing he grabs your hands and helps you up.

“Carry me, I’m too tired to walk back.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes hoping to win him over.

Chuckling, “hop on.” he squats so you can climb on.

“Honestly Nes, I know it’s going to be a hard few months but I can’t wait to live here with you.” He gave your thighs a squeeze as he held onto you.

“I know me too, Hails.” He smiled over at you.

“We can really have our own life together, no parents to tell us what to do,” you lean forward leaving kisses along his jaw, “no brother keeping us from alone time.” You mumbled in his ear knowing he gets annoyed with his brother.

Chuckling, “Niko will probably move here to keep an eye on you.”

“You’re probably right.” Giggling, “I really can’t wait to have our life here together. You’re all my heart needs, baby.”

“You’re everything, Hails. Just a few months and it’s me and you here!”

You’re brought out of your memory by a phone call, realizing that you’ve been out here long enough for the sun to go down. It was Nestor

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Em got hurt, we are heading to the hospital in Santo Padre, meet me there.” Nestor hurried out, hanging up before you could respond.

#nestor oceteva #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva x hailey teller #nestor oceteva x oc #nestor oceteva smut #mayans mc smut #nestor oceteva imagine

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

And Many Happy Returns

a sequel (or companion piece) to Inseparable, my childhood friends AU. chapter 1 of 2.

“Next week?” Jon shrieks, slamming a hand down on his desk and startling the nearby students. “That’s not nearly enough time to prepare!”

Martin does that blinky-eye thing that means Jon’s being too loud, but he can’t help it! Martin’s turning eight in six days (less than a week!) and didn’t think to tell him. They’re best friends, he should know these things. He curses himself for not asking about this at the beginning of their relationship, when he was collecting Martin facts. Favorite color and book seemed more important at the time.

And while Jon doesn’t think birthdays are that important, it’s still a fact he ought to have known. Well, his Nan doesn’t consider birthdays important. These past two birthdays he’s gotten one new (!) book and a dessert after dinner, but that’s about it. Nan doesn’t have money to spend on frivolous things, and Jon’s never needed much, but he wouldn’t mind a bit of fanfare. His mum always made sure he felt very loved- he got plenty of hugs, a fun cake, an outing where they would do his favorite things. But maybe that’s something only mums do. Nan, with her rare, stiff hugs and general stand-offishness was never one to put up much of a fuss.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Martin mutters, his pencil twitching in his hand as he refuses to meet Jon’s eyes. He doesn’t like it when Jon starts fretting about him. “We never do anything for it, anyway.”

Martin’s mum isn’t anything like Jon’s, that’s for sure. It’s not every day you turn eight. It’s a nice number, very even and divisible. Much better than boring old seven. When Jon turns eight, he’s going to get fifteen extra minutes added to his curfew, and he’ll be able to walk to the corner store all by himself. He’s already walked there several times, but it’ll be nice to have permission. That’s the real treat.

“So you’re not going to bring in cupcakes for the class?” he asks, remembering the last birthday they celebrated- it was Lydia’s, a quiet, unassuming girl that Jon doesn’t mind but also doesn’t think much about. As soon as Jon asks it, Martin gets that sad look in his eyes again, the kind that’s always followed by an “I’m sorry” or something equally nonsensical. Jon hates that he’s the cause of it, him and his stupid mouth. Think before you speak, that’s what Nan always says. She says that for most anything he talks about, though, so he takes her advice with a grain of salt.

He reaches out to pat Martin’s arm consolingly, giving him his best sympathetic head tilt. “It’s alright. I’ve never brought any in either. Just thought I’d check in case you needed help bringing them to school.” Jon’s not very good at carrying things, but for Martin he would make an attempt.

“That’s nice of you,” Martin replies, though it’s not really nice, it’s just a normal thing a friend would do. Jon’s read books about it, he ought to know. “But yeah. I don’t think Mum’s planning anything, much less making cupcakes. She’s really busy.” Martin’s always saying how busy his Mum is, but Jon’s pretty sure she doesn’t do half the things around the house that she’s supposed to. Martin already knows how to cook and make tea and do the laundry without hurting himself. It’s very admirable. The last time Jon attempted to do laundry, he flooded the cellar.

“Do you like cupcakes, though?” Jon asks, scooching closer to Martin’s desk. “Lydia’s mum brought some for her birthday, but they were all carrot cake. Blegh.” He makes an exaggerated face to get Martin to laugh. It works.

“Carrot cake’s not so bad,” Martin says, poking lightly at Jon’s hand with the eraser of his pencil. Jon flinches back dramatically, putting on his most wounded look. “You just don’t like it cause it has the word carrot in it.”

“I don’t like it cause it has actual carrots in it,” Jon sniffs, turning away from Martin to show his displeasure. He decides not to talk to him for the rest of the day, or at least until he has something else to say to him. He’s got a lot on his mind now, and he needs to be left alone with his thoughts. Besides, Martin will poke him again once he gets bored enough.

Jon flips open the school planner that he’s never used for actual school work and starts to write. He’s got a birthday to plan, and he’s going to give Martin a Mrs. Sims birthday special.

______

It’s a Thursday, which means Martin can’t play on account of his many, many chores. Jon hates Thursdays.

But this time it works in his favor, as he’ll actually have time to plan without Martin thinking something’s up. Jon very rarely cancels on Martin; he’s his most important (and only) friend. But he does on occasion get a little mixed up. One time, he thought it was a Wednesday instead of Thursday, and wound up at Martin’s flat when he didn’t show up at the park. Martin was very nice about it, though, and gave him a cup of tea to ‘calm down’ to drink in the hallway, before he went home. Martin thinks a cup of tea is calming. It doesn’t really do much for Jon, but it is tasty, and Martin gives him extra sugar just the way he likes.

But today is most definitely a Thursday so he scurries on home, slamming the door open and screaming a greeting to Nan that goes unanswered. She must be off at the shops, otherwise she’d be giving Jon an earful for being too loud. He kicks off his shoes and gazes at the picture of him and his mum on the wall. If his mum were here, she would know exactly what to do to make Martin’s birthday extra-special. But she’s not, and Martin’s mum seems like kind of a jerk, so it’s Jon’s responsibility. “I won’t let you down,” he solemnly tells her smiling face, and turns to take the steps two at a time.

After grabbing his planner and throwing his backpack into the corner, he pulls out the chair to his messy homework desk, which is usually only used for doodling or writing stories or reading when he wants the activity to feel more official. He flips open his planner to next Wednesday, Martin’s birthday (!!!) and taps his pen impatiently against the page.

What do birthdays need? Food. Presents. Happiness. The first two might be a bit difficult to pull off, considering his lack of money and cooking skills. Martin deserves a lot more than stale discount biscuits from the grocery. He can get those any day.

But a whole cake is going to be hard. If Nan won’t make one for Jon on his birthday, she most certainly won’t do it for ‘his little friend,’ even if she thinks he’s a good influence. Martin is always very quiet and polite when he sees her, and Nan always gives him a smile in return for his good manners. She doesn’t smile at Jon like that. He tamps down his jealousy and gets back to birthday thoughts.

He thinks he had a purple- or was it pink? - cake on his fifth. It saddens him that he can’t remember. He thinks he’d forget his own mother’s face if he didn’t look at it every morning and night. Memory’s fickle like that, as his Nan likes to say.

Maybe, if he’s very nice and good tonight, Nan will take him with her on the weekly shop and he can convince her to get Martin a cupcake, a good one. One that doesn’t have any carrots in it, even if Martin says they’re alright. He must like them so much because they’re orange, like his hair. Unsurprising.

He stops wiggling in his chair and straightens his back, as if Nan can see him in his room right now. It’s good to practice, he thinks. If he can sit still all through dinner and not make a mess, she’ll come round.

Next, an essential part of any birthday: a good present.

His mum never really showered him with gifts, but she always gave him something good, something from the heart. The last present he received - Augustus, an orange cat plushie- still sits on his bed. It’s kind of babyish to sleep with a stuffed animal at his age (or so Marcus declared during recess one day) but Jon doesn’t really care. It helps him sleep.

Unfortunately, Jon can’t buy Martin a stuffed cat. He doesn’t have much money except for what he’s found on the ground and in sofa cushions. And he’s supposed to give that to Nan if he finds it (which he does, mostly).

He could be creative. Make him something. Jon’s not very good at crafts, though. And he doesn’t have a lot of supplies. But he has almost a week to figure something out, minus the times he’s playing with Martin. Well, even then he can stare at him and hope it jogs a good idea.

Lastly, he’s got to make it the happiest, most special day he can. Martin should feel special all the time, but Jon knows how hard that is, especially when you go home and you’re lonely and it seems like you’re the least special person there is. But if Jon is very nice to him and makes the day as fun as possible, maybe he’ll be able to keep that happiness all night, even when Jon leaves.

That’ll be the hardest part, Jon thinks. He’s not the type of person to make someone happy. Sigh in aggravation, maybe. Roll their eyes. But Martin does neither of those things, so Jon might have a chance. He’ll try and ‘tone it down,’ though. His Jon-ness can be too much at times, and he doesn’t want that to get in the way of what should be Martin’s day.

Everything’s going to be perfect.

________

And then it’s Saturday, and Jon still doesn’t have a present for Martin.

He somehow managed to get Nan to agree to the cupcake bit- he’d asked very politely, ate all of his dinner and didn’t spill a thing. Though he thinks it has more to do with her liking Martin. She always acts surprised when she sees him over, like she’s shocked Jon kept a friend for longer than a week. He’s not that bad. But Tuesday she promised to take him to the grocery with her, so it’s fine. One part of his plan is done.

But the present.

Actually buying something is clearly out of the question- he already exhausted his Nan’s good will in that department. And Jon, for all his usual creativity, is plum out of ideas. He could give him one of his books, but he does that already without prompting. He doesn’t have any good toys, and Martin certainly isn’t getting his best pen, the one that glides real smoothly on the page.

“Are you alright?”

He’s been staring at Martin too long. “Of course,” Jon snaps. “I just like your shirt today, that’s all.”

Martin looks down at his worn t-shirt. It’s not Jon’s favorite, but it’s Martin’s, so he likes it. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

They’re out in the woods behind Mr. Fletchley’s house to investigate what Jon thought was an ancient ruin but just turned out to be a couple of crumbling cinder blocks. It was an incredibly disappointing find, but Martin wasn’t discouraged.

“We don’t know where they came from, or why someone dumped them here,” he reasoned, a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “What if they were stolen? What if they’re part of a...a crime, or something?”

Jon doesn’t know what crime would need a cinder block, but he intends to find out. They’ve been walking down the relatively short path (it’s not so much woods as it is a cluster of trees) and haven’t seen anything suspicious, besides a few empty wrappers and a particularly sharp stick that Jon’s been whacking against the ground. He thinks it could’ve been used as a weapon.

“What are you going to do when you’re eight?” he asks, nudging Martin in the side. He hasn’t mentioned his birthday since the first time, so he’ll be in for a real treat come Wednesday. Jon just hopes he can think of something good in time.

“Mm, I don’t know.” Martin slows down to a mosey, and Jon tries to match his strides no matter how much he wants to jump ahead. Martin’s a real ‘slow down and sniff the flowers’ type of guy. Jon’s more of a ‘run ahead and accidentally trample them’ type. “Probably the same as I’m doing now. It’s not like it’s an important age. I can’t drive or anything like that.”

“It’s a very important age!” Jon insists, though he doesn’t have much to back that up. He’s mostly just excited because it’s Martin’s very first birthday with him. “You should look forward to something.”

“I dunno, I don’t want anything to change,” Martin says, his face going a little red as he stares at the ground. “I’d just like to spend more time with you. Have fun. That kind of stuff.”

Jon blinks. “We do that now, though.”

“Yeah. It’s the best.” Martin gives him a toothy grin, the kind that Jon puts away and thinks about later when he’s at dinner with Nan or getting ready in the morning. People don’t smile at him like that, only Martin. He does it all the time when Jon tells him a good joke, or shares his food, or passes him a particularly funny doodle.

And now Jon’s got the perfect idea for a present.

part 2

#my writing #inseparable #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #cw for jon and martin's typical shitty childhoods #but this is all fluff my friends #pt 1 of 2

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Rest, Now

Prompt: I absolutely love your protective knights/protective Arthur works. Would you write your take on the aftermath of the Lamia episode? I'd love to see Arthur's reaction once he finds out what happened to Merlin. Bonus points for protective Gwen as well, and them knowing about Merlin's magic.

Ah yes, love this prompt. Protecc™ the Merlin pls

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, just a sad Merlin

Pairings: gwen/merlin/arthur

Word Count: 2096

The second he sees the walls of Camelot, Merlin slumps in the saddle. Cara nickers in warning and he just manages to right himself before Arthur looks over.

“Are you sure you don’t need to be cured too?”

Merlin suppresses a shudder and shakes his head. Arthur gives him a once-over before turning back around. Gaius gives him a look.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, “just ready to get back home.”

“You and me both, Merlin.”

“Merlin?” Gwen reaches over to touch his arm, stopping when he flinches. “Whoa, Merlin, are you alright?”

“Yes, fine, just—“ he shakes his head— “little jumpy.”

He sees Gwen’s mouth harden a little as she shoots a glance at Elyan. She nods. Camelot’s door can’t close behind them soon enough.

The knights dismount first, each patting their horse as they lead them to the stables. Gwaine looks over his shoulder and reaches for Merlin. Merlin manages to hold still as Gwaine takes his arm.

“Are you sure you’re alright,” he asks in the soft voice normally reserved for dark nights when Gaius is out and Arthur is crueler, “do you need anything?”

Merlin shakes his head.

“Will you tell me if you do?”

He nods. It seems to satisfy Gwaine but not Elyan, who narrows his eyes.

“When was the last time you got looked at? Did Gaius check you out too?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Is that Percival too? “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

There are too many of them. Too many. They could be hurt. They could still be susceptible to magical influences. Merlin’s magic could—he could—they’re still vulnerable.

They could still hurt him. He could—she could still have some hold on them. It wouldn’t be the first time Gaius’s magical knowledge has failed them.

“Enough!”

Gwen? Is that Gwen?

“You’re hounding him,” she scolds, pushing through the tangle of knights to put her arm protectively around Merlin’s shoulders, “knock it off. You’ve all had a rough go of it recently so go rest and let Merlin do the same.”

As Merlin watches the knights shuffle like scolded puppies, despite everything a corner of his mouth tugs up in a slight smile. Never let it be said that Gwen can’t make people do what she likes.

The only one standing in between him, Gwen, and getting as far away from here as possible is Leon. He looks at Merlin, splits him in two, peers into the very being of his soul. Then his eyes soften almost imperceptibly and he bows.

“My Lady,” he says, “Merlin. May you rest well.”

Thank you, Leon.

By the time Merlin’s shepherded away from the knights under Gwen’s wing, he looks up to realize that Arthur’s gone. A rush of worry slaps him in the chest.

“Shh,” Gwen whispers as she guides him through the halls, “we’re almost there. It’s alright.”

Arthur turns when they push open the door to the massive chambers, already out of his armor—how long was Merlin down there?—and coming around the table to take Gwen into a hug. Right. Merlin gives himself a shake and starts moving to get their food, do his chores.

Only to be thwarted by a strong arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him into a shoulder that smells light sunlight and metal.

“Where are you going,” Arthur mumbles, absentmindedly nuzzling into Merlin’s hair, “I’ve not had the chance to see you properly since this mess started.”

At the mention of what just happened, Merlin tenses. No. Arthur was never hurt by the Lamia. Arthur was never caught. Arthur is fine. Arthur is safe. Arthur isn’t hurt.

“Merlin? Merlin!”

He blinks, only for Arthur’s concerned face to swim into view in front of him. Next to him, Gwen wraps her hand around his, squeezing gently.

“Hey,” Arthur murmurs, tilting his head, “what’s the matter? You went somewhere for a moment.”

Merlin can’t do anything but blink.

“Come on,” Arthur teases gently, “surely it takes more than a hug to daze you?”

Something cold settles in the pit of Merlin’s stomach.

“They—they were—all she had to do was kiss them.”

“What?”

“All she had to do was talk to them, touch them, kiss them,” Merlin mumbles, “and they were hers. They changed, they didn’t care, they were—it was just a kiss.”

“Hey, hey—“ Arthur starts to hustle him toward the bed— “sit, Merlin, you look like you’re about to fall over.”

Gwen fetches a goblet and wraps his hand around it. “Drink, Merlin.”

“What is it?”

“Pear juice, your favorite.”

“Oh.” Merlin raises it to his lips. What’s wrong with him? Why is he acting like this? He’s fine.

“You just watched some of your closest friends succumb to powerful magic,” Gwen points out when he voices that, “you watched their minds change, that’s enough to shake anyone.”

“But they’re alright now, Merlin,” Arthur promises, “you’re all safe now. It’s dead, I killed it. You, and the knights, and Gwen, and Gaius, you’re all back here now, you’re safe.”

But was Merlin ever in any significant danger? He has his magic, there’s no way he would’ve been as easy a target as the others. Did he—did he draw attention to them by being himself and being there? Did she take the others because of him?

“Whatever you’re thinking,” comes Gwen’s stern voice, “stop it. Stop blaming yourself for things you can’t control.”

She gives him a pointed look and gestures to their entwined hands.

“Even you can’t fix everything, Merlin.”

“But I should’ve been able to fix this,” Merlin argues, his face contorting, “I should’ve—I—“

“And what would you have done, Merlin,” Arthur asks softly, “what could you do?”

Merlin’s blood runs cold. Next to him, even Gwen makes a little noise.

“No,” Arthur says firmly, “what could you have done? If you’re so intent on blaming yourself, what could you have done to make a difference?”

“Arthur!”

“Come on, Gwen, don’t tell me it doesn’t hurt you to see Merlin try and carry the whole world on his shoulders!” Arthur folds his arms and leans against the poster of the bed. “Tell us, Merlin, why should you be held accountable?”

“Arthur enough.” Gwen’s voice rings in the chamber as Merlin hides his head shamefully. “He’s already upset, he doesn’t need you to make it worse.”

“Don’t—“ he swallows heavily— “don’t fight, please. Don’t fight, not now.”

“We’re not fighting, Merlin,” comes Arthur’s soft voice again, followed by a warm hand cupping his cheek, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Why don’t you go get dinner then,” Gwen says, only a little less frosty, “as part of your apology.”

Arthur only sighs and does as bid. As soon as the door closes, Gwen leans forward and wraps him in a tight hug, letting him gasp heavily into her shoulder.

“Shh, shh,” she whispers, carding a soothing hand through his hair, “shh, Merlin, it’s alright, I’d never give up your secret, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“He—he asked, Gwen, I—I can’t—what if he knew?”

“I would never let anyone hurt you,” she promises fiercely, “you know I wouldn’t. That includes Arthur.”

“I won’t be able to keep from telling him someday, Gwen!”

“And when that day comes, I will be by your side and he will get down on his knees and thank you for all that you’ve done.”

“He won’t, Gwen. He’ll be so angry.”

Gwen pulls back enough to take his face in her hand. “He may be. For an instant. And then he will thank you. And you know he cares for you far too much to truly be angry at you.”

Merlin’s lip wobbles.

“Oh, Merlin—“ she pulls him back into her embrace— “I’ve got you, honey, it’s alright.”

“Alright, so I’ve got dinner, how are we—Merlin?”

There’s the sound of plates clattering to the table and rapid footsteps before another strong set of arms surround him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” comes Arthur’s warm concern, “what’s so bad? I’m sorry if I pushed too hard, I worry, shh, it’s alright, don’t cry.”

Gwen presses a kiss to his forehead as Arthur’s arms slip lower to wrap around his waist.

“We’re right here, Merlin, we won’t leave you.”

“You’re safe, sweetheart, I’ll look after you, we both will.”

“Shh, shh, honey, it’s okay.”

Merlin buries his head in the crook of Arthur’s neck and sobs. Arthur lets out a comforting noise and his hand comes up to cup the back of his head. He strokes gently, finding the soft spot that makes all of Merlin’s muscles relax on cue. Arthur moves the boneless pile of Merlin to the bed proper, scooping the man into his lap and letting Gwen shift close enough to lay her head between both of them.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Gwen promises, her hand wiping away one of Merlin’s tears, “you can cry, we’ll be right here.”

Arthur’s chin comes to rest on top of Merlin’s head, creating a little bubble of intimacy here, in his arms, sheltered in the lea of him. Merlin is taller than him—a fact he never lets Arthur forget—but the way he’s curled in on himself lets Arthur wrap protectively around him.

There is nowhere safer in Camelot.

After a long while, Gwen pulls away, murmuring something about making sure the food doesn’t spoil. As she vanishes behind the curtain, Arthur slowly shifts to sit Merlin on the end of the bed, sliding off to stand in front of him.

“Shh,” he hushes when Merlin whines in protest, “I’m just grabbing the handkerchief. I need to wipe your face off.”

Gentle fingers tip his chin up and the cloth is soft against his face. Arthur is patient, patting and dabbing up the mess and leaning down so Merlin can wrap his fingers in his tunic.

“There,” he murmurs eventually, setting the handkerchief aside and cupping Merlin’s face in his hands, “a little redder than normal, but other than that…”

Merlin swats halfheartedly at him. Arthur chuckles before he pulls away. Merlin opens his mouth to ask where he’s going when—

His mouth hangs when Arthur lowers himself carefully to his knees in front of him.

“I truly didn’t mean to scare you,” Arthur says in a hushed voice, taking Merlin’s hands in his, “earlier. I just wanted you to see that you—you don’t have to blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. You’re still human, Merlin.”

“Arthur—what—what are you doing?”

“What I should’ve done long ago.” Arthur’s mouth tugs up. “You and Gwen aren’t quite as quiet as you think you are, you know that?”

Merlin’s eyes widen. “You—you heard?”

In response, Arthur takes Merlin’s hands and presses them to his chest, squeezing lightly. His smile softens.

“Thank you, Merlin,” he whispers and the words sink deep into Merlin’s chest, “and no, this wasn’t your fault either.”

“How—how long have you known?”

“I’ve suspected since the troll,” Arthur murmurs, standing and pulling Merlin back into a cuddle, “and I’ve never been angry since the Cup of Life.”

He squeezes Merlin gently.

“So don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart,” he whispers, “or else.”

Merlin sobs out a laugh, clutching desperately at Arthur, not angry Arthur, not upset Arthur, warm Arthur, caring Arthur, safe Arthur. “Or else what?”

“Or else I’ll have to make you take care of yourself.” Arthur scrubs his knuckles lightly over Merlin’s head. “So go sit with Gwen and we’ll eat or I’ll carry you there.”

He pulls back, just enough that he can see Merlin’s face and pat his cheek.

Merlin swallows. “Is that a threat?”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “You asked for it.”

Gwen looks up when Arthur carries a Merlin to their dinner table and sits him down, reaching to take his hand and place it in hers. She giggles, pulling Merlin close enough to kiss his forehead, looking at his smile.

“That’s much better,” she notes, “now eat. You’ve had a long day.”

He’s had a long few days, honestly.

But as he starts to eat, as he and Arthur trade quips across the table, as Gwen’s hand stays warm in his, he may be able to rest tonight.

#merthur #merthur fic #merlin x gwen x arthur #don't know their ship name off the top of my head #fic #merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #dragonbabbles

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chainofclovers · 3 years

Note

Hello! You felt like the only person on the entire internet that I could send this ask to, so I hope it’s okay. I am a huge Hacks person and very much an Ava x Deborah shipper, and also a big fan of Ted Lasso without any strong shipping feelings there. While I’m not into them (and lean Ted x Rebecca but very low key), the intensely negative reaction to Sam x Rebecca just makes me think, “This is why showrunners would never consider canon Ava x Deborah in a million years,” (like take Sam/Rebecca but add audience homophobia into the mix!) and it makes me sad. Tbh, I don’t think there’s any real chance of canon Ava x Deborah, and I get why it would be near impossible to pull off, but it’s just kind of the principle of the thing: are the two ships that different? If anyone can tell me why they are, you can. If they’re not different, how are you able to ship Ava x Deborah (I’m assuming based on seeing your comments on fics). This is keeping me up at night and you’re always so incredibly insightful about fandom stuff generally, and your TL posts in particular have been very measured. Thanks for taking the time to read this!

Thank you for this ask, and sorry for the delay! Not sure you saw this post I made recently about the distinction and overlaps between viewing canon and engaging in fannish activities like shipping, but I wrote it in part because of what you sent. Anyway, I would recommend you read that post first because it will at the very least explain why I don’t tend to think of romantic relationships on TV as the result (positive or negative) of investing in ships.

(Also, I am very flattered that you felt I was the only person on the internet to send this to. I find it hilarious that this is the niche space I occupy online.)

It’s probably incredibly obnoxious to start in on my real answer by quoting some Ted Lasso wisdom, but that’s exactly what I’m going to do: All people are different people.

First, not all fans are the same. It’s true that there have been a lot of negative reactions to Rebecca and Sam’s relationship on Ted Lasso, but there are also plenty of people who are enjoying the storyline. (There are also a lot of people who claim TL has no conflict, others who claim TL has turned into a dark shell of its former show-self, etc. It’s a popular show so there are a bunch of people who’ve turned into authoritative critics overnight.) There are people who ship Sam/Rebecca because they’d like their relationship to be end game, there are people who ship them because they’re hot and having fun together even though it likely won’t be a long-term thing, there are people (like me) who don’t ship them but are still enjoying the storyline and characterizations because of the specific moment these characters are in right now, there are people who wish the writers had gone a different direction but are still along for the ride, and there are people who straight-up quit watching the show because of this and might never come back no matter how well the plot is handled in the end/in the larger context of the show. There’s no accounting for why each fan has the reaction they have, but the reactions are far from homogeneous.

Second, not all creators are the same. But! Having spent an unusual amount of time actually learning about the writers on both of these shows (this is the niche space I occupy on the internet), I do think there’s an important similarity between these two very different shows: in the case of both Hacks and Ted Lasso, the writers and creators don’t seem particularly concerned with placating fans, but they also don’t seem interested in jerking fans around with random twists for the hell of it. (We’ve all heard stories of showrunners who have decided to take a plot in a different direction simply because fans caught on to the original plan...as if it’s a bad thing that fans were invested enough to understand what was happening in the storytelling. That is not what is happening with these shows.) Of course people who work on shows want their shows to be successful and to land well with audiences, but both shows are so beautifully written, and the writing shows such a commitment to knowing these characters inside and out. Do these writers want an engaged audience? Yes. Are these writers at the mercy of fandoms? No.

That’s not to say I feel like I can predict what will happen with Rebecca and Sam or with Rebecca and Ted or with Ava and Deborah or with anyone. But the idea that people who write for Hacks would look at the (mixed, lively, and still in-progress) fan reception to the second season of Ted Lasso and choose to do something different with their characters seems very unlikely. In fact, I’m not even that interested in speculating as to whether the ship Ava/Deborah becomes canon (it might, it might not) because Ava and Deborah’s relationship is already a love story and Ava’s bisexuality (and the queerness of many, many cast members and characters) have already shown that the world of Hacks is a world in which queer people are represented.

Third, no matter what dynamics characters have in common, these particular characters don’t resemble each other very much. It’s true that Sam and Rebecca and Ava and Deborah are all in a situation with a significant age gap and an employer/employee power dynamic to contend with. For me, the similarities really end there. Ava and Deborah isn’t just “Sam and Rebecca + homophobia” even if some fans might feel that way. There are so many factors at play. Race. Gender. Money. What the characters are looking for. What motivates them. What ethical concerns they have or don’t have, and how those concerns dictate their actions.

Sam and Rebecca connect anonymously, which means the foundation of their relationship is really different from the foundation Ava and Deborah build together joke by joke, compromise by compromise, unexpected moment of connection by unexpected moment of connection. Sam and Rebecca are both in periods of significant personal change, and their connection and chemistry feel more like a place for some (sexy) refuge than a permanent partnership. No matter what might or might not happen with Ava and Deborah romantically, their relationship evolves over the course of s1 to the point that they truly respect each other’s sense of humor and consider it a shared language--basically the highest compliment these emotionally-stunted writer-comedians could pay each other. It’s true that every person we meet throughout our lives has the potential to permanently alter us, but a major part of the plot in Hacks is Deborah’s slightly subtle admission that she has a shared language with Ava unlike anything she’s experienced since she was with her former husband. That kind of realization really does change a person permanently, and no matter how you feel about Sam and Rebecca, who are two deep, thoughtful characters, I haven’t seen anything nearly that deep or thoughtful about their connection to each other.

Finally, I don’t bring the same mindset to everything I watch. The connection between Ava and Deborah resonates with me as a viewer because it’s a queer connection between two writers. I’m a queer writer, and even if my life is nothing like Ava’s or Deborah’s, Hacks’ focus on queerness and the creative process reaches me in ways that are specifically tied to what the main characters have together. Ted Lasso reaches me in very personal ways too, but that doesn’t mean I have to question my thoughts on Sam and Rebecca by directly comparing those thoughts to my thoughts about Ava and Deborah. The things I want to create as a fan, the things I feel about the way a show is written, my ethical viewpoint on different relationships, the distinction between linear canon stuff and non-linear fan stuff, my own identities and experiences...all of those are at play in what I bring as I watch distinct things.

This response got a lot longer than I anticipated, but I hope it helps in some way. If you want to come off anon I’m always happy to chat about this stuff! (Or feel free to send me another anonymous ask if you have additional questions about this...I'm not scary, though, and happy to chat non-anonymously.) Thank you again for the ask!

#asks #anon #ted lasso #hacks (hbo)#ava x deborah #sam x rebecca #ted x rebecca #fandom things #meta by me #my hacks anon #a lesbian watches ted lasso

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stillness-in-green · 3 years

Text

MVA In Memoriam (3/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party)

Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade

Chapter 229 – All It Takes Is One Bad Day

• The full first page, of Jin getting mobbed by Puppet!Jins, them tearing his mask off, and flinging it and then him away. Saved them a bit of budget, I suppose, but it’s a shame to lose the drama and the violence of Twice having his mask pulled away, since it’s decent foreshadowing (indeed, possibly intentionally so, on Skeptic’s part) for the violent bewilderment he’ll be subject to shortly.

• Re-Destro’s line, “Not when he’s using his meta-ability to puppeteer, unless you want another nagging lecture.” They didn’t keep the first nagging lecture, so of course they wouldn’t keep this. I’m still annoyed, both on general principle and at the loss of RD’s implication that these nagging lectures are a regular occurrence, especially if one tries to bother Skeptic when he’s using his meta-ability. Has RD himself been on the receiving end of one? Possibly so! But you’d be less likely to think so just from the anime.

• Re-Destro’s line, “This allowed our warriors to momentarily hold back and stay out of danger.” Because why would the audience need to know that Skeptic planned for and Re-Destro cares enough to observe something like that lol?? Obviously the MLA is perfectly content to just throw their peoples’ lives away because, whatever, more where that came from! Dammit, anime, the fandom believes this enough as it is without confirmation bias from your cuts!

• Skeptic’s “fufufu” laugh, because the anime is allergic to the MLA having fun.

• The police officer’s line, “Sure, but in a case like this, you’re still to blame.” The rest of the exchange hints at it, of course, but there’s a horrifying callousness to a police officer just saying straight to the face of a teenaged orphan facing his first offense, “Yes, you were obeying the law perfectly and this guy just ran out in front of you, but it’s going on your criminal record anyway, whatever.” A weight the anime lost, and another that makes me very suspicious of the patterns behind what, precisely, was put on the chopping block.[1]

• Jin’s narration, “That police officer couldn’t have known. Me neither.” Demonstrates that Jin doesn’t really hold his fall against the one policeman. It’s a consistent thread with Jin’s character that, while he’s very jaded, he’s not actually vengeful, nor is he looking to enact systemic change. While he’s very defensive of his friends, people who hurt Jin himself are never in any real danger of him coming to collect his pound of flesh in return; he just rolls with it as part of how the world works, in the way of someone who was never given reason to believe any different. This line is a good example of that.

• From Jin’s old employer’s angry rant, deletes the note that the client that called is angry, and that the client said, “That young punk of yours did this!” It’s nothing that wasn’t obvious from the rest of the conversation, but I do I think cutting it loses a sense that this guy is just unloading all of his frustration and fear on Jin. The length of the screed, the extra details—it clearly communicates that Jin’s boss is so angry and upset he’s not paying any real mind to filtering, but just recounting every point of contention the moment they come into his mind.

• In modern society, when you’re someone without roots… Well, not a lot of people can relate to that.” It isn’t just the police that failed Jin; it’s a whole society that’s distrustful of people who don’t have a place in the fabric, and thus are unwilling to try and bring them into it. Like Tenko, there are a thousand little places where someone could have reached out a hand, but no one ever did. The audience can intuit this, but I feel it’s better to be clear about it—it’s not just the legal system that screwed Jin over; it’s every other person that never tried to help him because they were afraid of his eyes or distrusted a guy who had no connections. When Shigaraki comes, he’s not going to be coming for heroes alone; he’ll be coming for this entire tapestry of indifference and timidity.

• Skeptic’s lines, “Hrm? Fighting back? I was sure he’d either flee or cower in place... We didn’t anticipate such unity between them.” This gets at two things. Firstly, and once again, that the MLA did their research; that they came into this with educated expectations and a definite plan. Secondly, an in-character observation of what the arc has been showing the audience all along: that the League isn’t just a disparate gang of hoodlums anymore; that they’re developing real bonds. Those bonds mark them as unusual—Re-Destro comments on it in 223, as did Overhaul in 147; even Mr. Compress remarks disapprovingly on Twice’s “habit” of getting overly attached to people. It’s striking that, even though the MLA knew from Giran’s records that the League was uncommonly well-bonded, Twice’s devotion still fell outside Skeptic’s parameters.[2]

• Again Skeptic’s line, “Now his legs.” The drones don’t actually get this far (though you can see them gearing up for it on the next page), so it’s a reasonable enough cut, but it does emphasize the ludicrous, over-the-top extremes Skeptic in particular is willing to go to in securing what he wants. If, you know, “Kidnap the doubler so we have a method to make copies of the Grand Commander at our leisure,” wasn’t bonkers enough.

• Twice’s line, “Even against Gigantomachia!” It really highlights just how much mental energy Twice has been dedicating to avoiding injury, that he was able to keep it in mind even fighting a foe as overwhelming, and for as extended a period, as Machia. And like, the anime blitzed over the Machia fight so quickly, and with so little visible wear and tear to the League, that it really could have used all the reminders it could find room for about how intense those six weeks were.

• Twice’s line, “I won’t watch a friend die!” Such an important line that the composer named an entire track for it, not that the anime gave us that track in the moment it was clearly scored for. They added in a new line later in the scene which mostly gets the important sentiments back in, but loses out in being slightly less fitting to his breakthrough. See the Additions portion of the write-up on Chapter 230, following.

Framing Shifts

• The policeman in Jin’s flashback looked up at him in the anime, where in the manga, his eyes stay down on his paperwork the entire time. I realize that anime can’t just still-frame every panel of a manga and call it an adaptation,[3] so characters will do things like move and look around in different directions just in the course of inhabiting a room, Still, in this case, it has the effect of making the officer look more alert and engaged than he was in the manga, and given that this whole chunk of backstory is about Jin slipping through the social safety net, it feels appropriate to me that the officer should be completely checked out.

Additions

• A new shot of Jin(s) in his pre-massacre doppelganger army days. Didn’t tell us anything we don’t already know—it’s little more than a new angle of the gang in the truck—but it was nice to see.

Bonus Note

• They left Re-Destro’s phrase, “My company,” alone when he was talking about the micro-transceivers Skeptic was using. That’s accurate to the manga, but I’d like to remind everyone that, at that point in the anime, viewers whose only reference is the anime itself have no idea that Re-Destro is a businessman. The show skipped the commercial, RD’s intro, the dinner scene where his company comes up, and Giran’s association of RD with Detnerat; it will further go on to skip Shigaraki recognizing him from the commercial. The news report mentioning Detnerat was ten full episodes prior to Episode 110, and was followed up on in not the faintest degree. For heaven’s sake, would it have been so hard to have Hirata Hiroaki say, “My Detnerat’s,” instead of just, “My company’s”?

Chapter 230 – Sad Man’s Parade

• Deleted the MLA members that are attacking Compress as they get pushed off by the Twice wave. Not the first time, and not the last, that the anime didn’t animate the random MLA people on the street. It’s hard to take the threat of their numbers seriously when the anime kept deleting them from what are supposed to be crowd scenes, you know?

• Mr. C thinking worriedly about Dabi as he’s mulling over Geten’s strength and disregard for catching his own people in the collateral damage. It’s just a, “Dabi—!” but it’s yet another tiny cut that shaves away at the manga’s clear depiction of Leagues’ concern for one another—even Mr. Compress, who claims that such things aren’t very villainous.

Framing Shifts

• Changed the random MLA’s exhortation to kill all the Twices to a generic, “Damn—!” I know American censors have often taken issue with the words “Kill” and “Die” in kids’ cartoons, but I was never of the impression that that was the case in Japan. And it’s not like the show made any bones about Curious planning to kill Toga. A rephrase to save a second and a half on dialogue, maybe?

• Had Skeptic give his lines about failure on the way over to the elevator instead of stalking over in silence, and then dumping the whole monologue all at once. The manga’s extended silence over three identically sized panels is much funnier and more characterful. I grow ever more confident in my assessment of Skeptic as the second-most ill-treated MLA character in this adaptation.

• The return of the Doom Choirs for the Twice Parade. I really wish the anime would lay off slathering Doom Choirs all over everything, especially a moment like this: a triumph for Twice, and, true to form for Twice, also crammed to the gills with visual and verbal gags. The Doom Choir is out of keeping with both the victory and the comedy—Mine Woman, later on, served the Parade much better.

Additions

• Gave Twice a new line, “I will protect my comrades!” It was nice to make up for his, “I won’t watch a friend die!” but the latter is more characterful, especially since a more literal translation is, “I won’t kill my friends!” Which is, you know, relevant to the fact that Twice has problems telling himself apart from things that just look like him, and he just had to intervene to stop some of those look-alikes from killing one of said friends. At least it got his use of nakama back in.[4]

• A new little cut of animation as the action went back to Geten and Dabi. I suppose the Dabi fans liked it, and it was nice to see more of Geten’s ice dragon, but I’d have much preferred they could keep the scenes we already have before adding new ones.

Chapter 231 – Path

The scene of Hawks wondering why he hasn’t heard from Dabi and his subsequent flashback to the last time they spoke were relocated to the beginning of Episode 102, the first thing the audience saw after the prior episode ended with Shouto inviting Bakugou and Deku to come intern with him at Endeavor’s. In the manga, of course, it’s not “a few weeks ago in Kyushu,” it’s “meanwhile in Osaka.” Also, the order of the scenes was flipped—the episode led with the flashback, then returned to the modern day. It really makes the timeline needlessly confusing—the viewer has no real context for what we’re seeing and when, especially since the anime neglected to specify how much time passed between the two scenes. You have to assume it was enough time for an outcry to be raised over Jeanist’s disappearance, but the random shot of a bird flying over was not at all helpful there.

Alterations included (as usual, outright removed material is in bold text):

1. Cut Hawks’ thought, “That’s why you keep calling,” and his line, “What’s the job?” I know I should give a breakdown here about Hawks’ mentality and training, but I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to complain about any lines Takami Keigo loses. God knows the anime gives him plenty enough bonus material.

2. Spliced in the flashback scene of Hawks reporting to the Commission from Chapter 243, but subtly changed it to suggest that it took place after the phonecall in which Dabi demanded Hawks kill a non-Endeavor top hero, rather than it taking place right after Hawks and Dabi’s first contact, which is what the manga implies.

3. Deleted several key shots in the Jeanist apartment scene, with the effect of making Hawks way less creepy. We got an anime-original shot of his eyes, narrow and serious, but not either of the shots of his big, off-putting grin and widened eyes as he pulls a feather-blade on Jeanist. We also lost a shot of Jeanist turning to face him, framed between extended primaries of Hawks’ Fierce Wings. It’s not like the anime dropped the fake!Dead Jeanist plot, so I’m not sure why the shift, unless it’s just that they wanted to keep Hawks likable for the merch-buying crowd, not creepy and unsettling. And while I personally never believed that Hawks really killed Jeanist, a lot of people thought it was plausible, no doubt based on how off-kilter he comes across in this scene. It loses a real frisson, to just play it straight.

• Shigaraki decaying a missile in mid-air. So Dabi can get those little animation flourishes but Tomura can’t, huh, anime? I see how it is. I. See. How. It. Is.

• Spinner’s little side comment about all the ice everywhere. A nice demonstration that Geten and Dabi’s fight really is affecting huge swathes of the city; that’s certainly apparent already in a bunch of the wide shots showing exactly that, but it’s helpful to have the more zoomed-in moments, too. Also, I do enjoy those little side quips wherever we get them, and the anime often removes them.

• Thinned out the crowd guarding the route to the tower somewhat (it’s particularly noticeable on the mid-distance rooftops) and, as best I can tell, removed Shigaraki and Spinner from the shot. Why keep all the lines harping on the 110,000 number when a) it’s not even accurate to the MLA’s forces, just the League’s assumptions, and b) the studio doesn’t even have the resources to adequately convey the numbers the manga does portray?

• Somebody in the crowd being defiant about Twice’s multiplication and vigorously declaring that the League are all just sacrifices for the MLA’s Revival Party anyway. The background nobodies? Allowed to express even bog-standard over-confidence? Well I never. How dare those people think their lives count enough for them to get dialogue.

• Spinner’s, “This keeps happening!” Of course he couldn’t have that line in the anime, since the anime cut the other big place Trumpet clearly used his power to rile up his followers. What other times were you even talking about when you said, “Every time he talks,” Anime!Spinner? That scene was the first time we even saw Trumpet since he welcomed you guys to town.

• Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. He just called him a damn moron (bakayarou) in the anime; he uses the considerably more specific baka kyouso (Google Translate gives “guru”; jisho gives “founder of a religious sect”). He uses the same term again immediately afterward—Viz’s translation gives, “More like chrome dome cult!”—which the anime also deleted.

So here’s another example of the anime doing everything it could to erase the presence of cults in the HeroAca world. The easy assumption to make is that this was tied to broadcast standards about the depiction of what Japan refers to as “new religious movements,” which—and pardon the brief swerve into real life historical horrors here—have been very unpopular in Japan since Aum Shinrikyo and the sarin gas attacks in 1995. But were these elements removed because the anime didn’t want to represent anything that smacks of new religious movements at all, or because the depiction of both the MLA and particularly the CRC are explicitly villainous and calling religious movements, even made-up ones, evil on TV leads to a lot of angry phone calls?

• Re-Destro’s line, “Unlike my good Miyashita, there’s nothing charming about you.” Of course they’d cut this, having cut the Miyashita scene, but I hate it anyway. As I said earlier, RD’s invocation of Miyashita in front of two people who are going to have not the slightest clue who that is tells me that Re-Destro really does miss and feel bad about killing the guy. Cutting the reminder that RD still feels that sting makes it much too easy to assume that Shigaraki’s right about RD hiding up in his tower, uncaring of the blood shed on his behalf, when if you read Re-Destro with even the slightest of attempts at good faith, it’s clear that those losses weigh very heavily on him.

Incidentally, and not to harp on the art again, but in the manga, Stress is still visibly spread down from RD’s temple to the ridge of his brow over his eye socket. The anime returned it back to its normal resting state, again suggesting that the death toll mounting in the streets below (as well as, possibly, the new stress of confronting a quirk as powerful as Double) left RD completely unmoved. The spread was back in the following shot, so it was probably just an art error, but it would be nice to have had fewer of those, especially when they impact characterization as much as what RD’s Stress blots are doing at any given time.

Framing Shifts

• Had Machia doing this weird cannonball skim just over the ground, when in the manga, he’s still half-buried, spraying earth and stone everywhere. The manga never namedrops Machia’s Mole quirk during the story itself, but it’s important to know for later that Machia can not only tear through obstacles, he can tear through obstacles extremely quickly.

Additions

• Gave Hawks a few new lines about how too many unexpected things happened for their last arrangement, and that Dabi should have given him more warning. Largely seemed to be there to give the anime an excuse to flashback to the High End fight, in case the viewers had completely forgotten about Hawks and Dabi having a clandestine meeting and sniping at each other in the aftermath of that event. An understandable addition, but deeply frustrating in the context of all the lines that got cut.

Chapter 232 – Meta Abilities and Quirks

• Dropped a third instance of Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. I don’t know what the S&P restriction is on this, but given that the movie was allowed to create and villainize an entire international terrorist cult, it is really incomprehensible that the MLA doesn’t get to keep their designation as such. Why?? Because the movie involves going out and defeating its cult, but the series is going to engage in a more sympathetic treatment?[5] Because the self-selecting movie crowd is less likely to complain than the TV audience? Did they just not want to draw attention to how much the movie was ripping off the MLA’s whole shtick? What??

• Missed that RD’s swole arm swipe wipes out the puppets Skeptic left behind; they just vanished from the scene entirely after Twice’s arrival. It’s hard to blame the anime for this; the manga also seems to lose track of the fact that they’re right there in between RD and the elevator—they’re nowhere to be seen anywhere between the end of Chapter 231 and the aforementioned arm swipe, where you can see them getting obliterated. Both versions could have stood to be more attentive to this; indeed, the anime could have fixed it, small error though it is.

• A sort of twitchy sparking around Shigaraki’s hand right after he decays the tower. This is foreshadowing that Shigaraki’s big AOE decay attacks are hard on his body, which will become extremely apparent after he unleashes it on the city at large during the climax, and factors into his decision to accept the mysterious power Ujiko offers. The damage Shigaraki sustains there doesn’t come out of nowhere; Horikoshi is, on the whole, extremely good at layering in foreshadowing many chapters before the foreshadowed elements come fully to light. It makes the writing look much messier than it actually is—more convenient, more pat—to delete this stuff.

• Shigaraki recognizing RD from the Detnerat commercials. Well, they ditched the Detnerat commercial, so of course they ditched this. Still, it lost one of the indicators that Shigaraki is, despite not receiving a formal education, actually quite up to speed on current events—even, apparently, when those current events are happening while he’s been fighting Machia in an isolated stretch of mountains for six weeks! I already suffer enough through fanon characterizations of Shigaraki in which he’s a basement-dwelling feral manchild glued to his gaming console whom AFO bans from accessing information about the outside world, anime! I don’t need you dropping the scenes that most clearly demonstrate otherwise!!

• In the anime, Baby!Chikara’s face was unmarked, just a normal infant face—you’d never even know the kid had a meta-ability just to look at him. In the manga, the skin of his face is clearly darker, contrasted against the paleness of his mother’s hand. It’s obvious that he’s not “normal” looking, and thus equally obviously would have attracted negative attention in his era.[6] Also had his mother smiling; her face in the manga is too shadowed and vague to make out an expression, befitting the murky tragedy of her story and the fear she must have been living with.

Framing Shifts

Additions

• A little thing: they had Twice echo, “Cushion?” when Clone!Shigaraki told him to get ready to cushion Giran’s fall. If anything, Re-Destro and his little thought-bubbled question mark is probably the one who should have had this reaction line.

• Added a visual for Clone-araki catching himself on the window. A perfectly reasonable way to fill screen time while a dialogue beat was ongoing.

• Added a panning still over a reaction shot from a bunch of Twice clones when the tower came down. It had a few good faces in it.

---

So, generally, this episode was better. I definitely still had issues with it, but compared to what came before, when they were trying to cram 5+ chapters into the episodes, there were far fewer cuts, and what cuts and tweaks there were, were relatively minor. Definitely nothing that made me want to throw chairs Jerry Springer-style the way 108 and 109 did.

Sadly, I can't say the same for the remaining two episodes. Come back next time for Part Four, Episode 111: Shimura Tenko, Origin.

FOOTNOTES

[1] After witnessing the massacre that was Episode 108, I was convinced they were going to cut the policeman scene entirely, and just go right to Jin getting fired for hitting someone with his bike, letting the audience think it was his fault completely rather than cast aspersions on police and the justness of the law. I was pleased they kept it at all, but less pleased with the steps taken to soften the sharpness of its accusation.

[2] Of course, it’s not like the MLA themselves don’t understand the willingness to give everything for the people who matter. They just label those feelings Devotion To The Cause, and don’t think the League is capable of such resolution.

[3] Netflix’s Way of the House Husband, be told.

[4] Nakama is, of course, a shonen standby, but, to the best of my knowledge (which is admittedly limited; I don’t follow a lot of shounen series), it’s pretty rare to hear the word coming out of a villain’s mouth! Jin calling the League his nakama ties into how the League are both sympathetic villains in the larger story and also the protagonists of the current arc, thereby operating under a lot of protag tropes for the duration—foreshadowed by Spinner’s earlier talk of Shigaraki and his boyish, dream-chasing eyes.

[5] Sometime after the mass arrests, one hopes.

[6] This could well be a coloring error in the manga, but if so, you’d think they’d have corrected it for the volume release. Especially given that, again, the color is in a different shade/screentone than the shadow that covers most of his mother’s face, and her hand stroking Chikara’s chin isn’t shadowed at all.

#my villain academia #bnha #bnha meta #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my writing #stillness has salt

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plenaurum · 3 years

Text

What Love Is: Pt 2/2

Might be an epilogue after this. I just wanted to get this out. Sorry it’s so long. Antoine Dawson. Word count: 3k. Part 1 here. Enjoy! Feedback appreciated but not required.

It has been over a week since she cut him loose. Throughout the week, she has had to dodge phone calls, FaceTime requests, text messages, direct messages, even comments under her Instagram posts from Antoine.

Funny how he gives a damn now.

Refusing to entertain him any longer, she avoided reading any of his messages, cutting her eyes away from words like “Y/N, I’m so—”, “I love—“, “Please can we ta—“, before she could get too far and let him pull her in too deep. Again.

So she blocked him. On everything. She unmatched him on Lovelink, blocked his phone number, his e-mail, all of his socials, even going as far as to private her social media accounts. She didn’t want to give him any wiggle room to slide back into her life.

And she refused to let the pain of having to let him go, of not being able to talk to him again, to see his face again, to hear his voice affectionately call her name in a way only he can, get in the way of her anger. Because she is angry. And heartbroken.

She would weather any internal storm if it meant not having to go through heartbreak like that again.

So she persisted.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be ok?” Jake asks.

They have just finished up a movie night with their friends Grace and Jasmin. They insisted that they have one because “you can’t spend your life wallowing over a fucker that couldn’t appreciate a bad bitch when he had one,” Jasmin said.

They’ve been pretty damn upset with Antoine, and make their disdain known whenever his name is brought up. Jasmin especially.

“This too shall pass,” Grace said ominously, curled up on the floor with a cup of toffee ice-cream.

“Is that Shakespear?” Jasmin looked over at her curiously, licking the remnants of the popcorn from her fingertips.

“It’s from the Bible!” Jake exclaimed. He was sitting on the floor next to Y/N’s legs, head leaning against her lap like a cat. Y/N let out a chuckle, a grin pulling at her lips as appreciation for her friends welled up in her chest.

It’s been about 20 minutes since Grace and Jasmin took off, Grace having to work on her thesis and Jasmin having a meeting with her model agency in the morning. They each departed with a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. Jake stayed behind, however.

“I’ll be fine, Jake.” Shaking off the memory, Y/N gathers the rest of the dishes into the sink. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

Jake leans against the counter next to her, a friendly warmth radiating from him. “It’s not babysitting when it’s your friend, Y/N.” He begins to help her with the dishes, their arms occasionally brushing against each other as they move in-sync. Y/N felt a rush of affection at him for being so kind.

Jake. Always such a softy.

“Besides, I don’t have my date for another hour, so I don’t have to leave just yet.” Jake turns his head and quirks a smile at her, eyebrows dancing playfully. “I could always kick your ass in another round of Uno.”

Y/N can’t help but laugh. “You know damn well it’ll be the other way around, Romeo.” Jake shrugs, a triumphant grin still on his face. He doesn’t really care about winning so much as he does about making that sad look on her face go away.

“Besides, shouldn’t you be preparing for your Juliet?” She says teasingly.

Putting away the last dish, Jake avoids her eyes, a blush dancing on his cheeks. “They’re not Juliet. They’re just helping me film.” He mutters.

Another giggle bursts out of her chest. “You mean they’re not Juliet yet.” He rolls his eyes, a bashful grin breaking through.

“How is it going with them by the way?” She asks.

He perks up adoringly, jumps to sit on top of the counter, eyes shining. “It’s going so well!” He says excitedly. He goes on to talk about the person he met from Lovelink, ironically the same site that she met Antoine on. She listens to him talk, feeling the heaviness from her chest lighten up a little at how happy he is, how utterly smitten he is.

At least one of them can have their happy ending. She smiles softly, a little sad. “I’m really happy for you Jake.” She says sincerely. “You deserve this.”

He stops talking and just looks at her, a soft look on his face at her tone. “You deserve it too, you know.” She just smiles at him, a faraway look in her eyes.

“I’ll get there eventually.” She affirms. He slides off the counter and pulls her into his arms. She didn’t know how much she needed a hug until now. Burying her face into his neck, she sighs, the heaviness in her chest lifts significantly.

“I know you will,” He whispers.

They stay like that for a few moments until they hear a knock at the door. They pull away from each other, looking at it quizzically. “Are you expecting anyone?” He asks.

“No. It was just you guys.” Besides, it’s almost 9pm. There’s another knock at the door, this one more persistent. Jake furrows his brow. “Are you gonna get it or should I?”

“No, I got it.”

Letting go of his hand, she goes for the door, and opens it without even looking through the keyhole, curiosity getting the better of her. “What can I do fo--” Her eyes lock with Antoine’s icy blues.

An icy feeling shoots it’s way through her body. She’s frozen, staring at him, heart beating out of her chest. She can’t breathe.

Then she feels a presence at her back and Jake’s hand on her shoulder. She lets the warmth of his hand spread through her body, soothing her. He knows who it is, if the pictures are anything to go by.

She watches Antoine’s eyes shoot to where Jake is touching her.

Everybody’s frozen, waiting for someone to make the first move. Then Antoine clears his throat, shifting on his feet. “Um,” he stammers, face reddening. “Is this a bad time?”

Jake stiffens, face hardening a bit. He shoots a look at Y/N, who turns around to look at him. They seem to have a silent conversation, his eyes saying are you sure about this? To which she replies I’ll be fine. I got this. He nods.

“No. I’ll see you later Y/N,” She hears him say, still staring at Antoine. He meets her eyes, his own unreadable. She nods at Jake, turning to give him a weak smile. He returns it, then parts with a quick peck on her cheek. He shoots a sly look at Antoine, and says, “See ya.” Then, brushing past Antoine’s tense body, he’s off.

Taking a deep calming breath, she pulls herself together enough to say “Do you wanna come in?” He gives her a smile and nods. Stepping aside, she lets him in, making sure to press herself against the open door to prevent any contact between them.

Closing the door, she turns to look at him to see that his eyes have been on her the entire time, seemingly drinking her in. Ignoring the tingles that spread through her body, she crosses her arms and fixes him with a hard look.

“What are you doing here, Antoine?” She thought he was in Nepal. Probably chasing some baby animal and getting himself stuck in a cave, she thinks bitterly.

“I wanted to see you,” he replies. Giving her another once over, he smiles softly at her. “How are you? How have you been?”

“Fine. Good.” She says sharply, ignoring his flinch. “What do you need?” She repeats.

Hands shoved into his pockets, biting his lip, he looks toward his feet, obviously unsure. “I deserve that,” he mutters to himself.

Deciding to cut him some slack and be a good host to an otherwise unwelcome guest, she clenches her jaw and bites out “Do you want a drink?”

His shoulders fall away from his ears, hope all over his face. “Please.”

She says nothing else and instead, giving him a wide berth, walks to the kitchen. It must be obvious that she wants her space, because Antoine keeps a careful distance between them, following her lead. He doesn’t want to set her off and kick him out when he misses her so much.

Yanking out two glasses, she pours a glass of one for each of them, ignoring his watchful eyes, filling her own cup to the brim. She passes the other to Antoine, his fingers brushing against hers when he takes it, almost as if he can’t help himself. She yanks her hand back and takes a long sip.

She decides to take a seat. No use being uncomfortable in your own damn house. She fixes him with another hard look and says: “Sit down.” He obeys, taking the seat across from her at the counter. He hasn’t taken a sip of his drink yet.

A few moments pass in tense silence. She has a lot of questions for him that she refuses to ask out loud, like Why did you insist on keeping me around if you were just gonna keep running from me? Was I not enough for you? Why would you say one thing and then do the complete opposite? Why? Why? Why? But she won’t ask. She’s done looking weak, being weak for him.

She feels him staring at her. Looking toward the ceiling to keep the tears at bay, she takes another long sip of her wine, reveling in the warmth settling in her belly.

“Why are you here, Antoine?” She asks again quietly, looking down at her drink.

“Who was that?” He blurts out instead of answering the question. He looks almost guilty, like he knows he should’ve kept to himself.

“Who was who?” She says cooly.

“That—that guy. Is he—? Are you—?” He’s stammering, tongue not cooperating with him.

She looks at him incredulously. Is he serious?

She’s silent for a moment, wanting to be petty and reply with what’s it to you? We’re not together anymore! I’m not even sure if we were together at all! But instead, allowing herself a moment of weakness and not being able to bear the pain of him thinking that she’s moved on so fast, she just says: “That’s Jake. Remember?” She’s told him about her friends at the beginning stages of their relationship, making it clear that while she and Jake are really close, they’ve never thought about one another that way. Besides, they’re both in love with other people.

The relief he feels is painfully obvious. “Oh.” He says dumbly. “Oh.” He repeats to himself. He lets out a breath, as if he’s been holding it in anticipation of her answer.

She doesn’t say anything back.

He tries to catch her eye again. “Listen, I want to tell you something.” She cuts her eyes back to him. “And I know I’m not in a position to be making any demands right now, but I just need about five minutes, okay? Then I’ll go, no problem.” His eyes are wide, almost pleading for her to listen.

She grinds her teeth, wanting to be difficult, but also wanting all of this to be over already even more. She nods once. He sighs again, nodding to himself.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly. She tries not to scoff, head shaking tiredly. He stays strong, however.

He sets his glass down and leans closer, all of his focus on her as if she’ll disappear at any moment. “I’ve been stupid. And selfish. And an asshole.” He sounds angry with himself. Well, no shit. Good on you for realizing. I guess. She takes another gulp of her wine in response.

“Y/N, I turned it down.” She almost chokes. He shoots up and would have ran to her side if she didn’t put a hand up to let him know that she’s ok.

He sits back down gingerly, still gazing at her worriedly. “And I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t turn it down just to get you back. I mean—it’s part of it. But it’s not the only reason.”

“I love my job. I love what I do. I love being able to see all of these new places, to have all of these new experiences. I do.” Unshed tears well up in his eyes. “But I realized—none of it matters if I don’t have you.” Screwing up her face, she shakes her head in disbelief, trying to stop the tears from falling.

“No. No—”

He shoots up and speeds around the counter to kneel down next to her, looking up at her and taking her hand.

“Please listen.” He goes on further. “When you left me, I was angry at first. Frustrated. But it was with myself for—for hurting you so much. For being so selfish and not seeing what I was doing.”

“I’ve been running from my problems, Y/N. I felt like if I didn’t keep moving, that I’d—I’d spiral. What happened with my grandpa in Alaska really shook me to my core. And I noticed that whenever problems arise, I run away. I avoid them.”

“But at the same time, I met you, and I knew that I wanted you in my life. That you’d be it for me. You are it for me.” His voice shakes, but he runs a thumb over her knuckles, eyes roaming her face reverently. “I want a life with you. I do. More than anything, I want you.”

Her heart slams against her chest.

He sighs. “And I didn’t want to admit it but, that scared the shit outta me.” He sniffs, tightening his hand around hers. “I knew that one look at you and it was over. That I wouldn’t be able to run anymore.”

“Is that why you were so adamant about leaving?” She asks weakly.

He shuts his eyes, squeezing them tight. “Yeah. I—I didn’t know how to deal, Y/N. I wanted to run as far as possible, to keep going and to keep focusing on my career so that I didn’t have to.” He opens his eyes again, tears falling down his cheeks. “That’s why it was so hard for me to fly you out to see me in Columbia.”

“I thought you just didn’t want to see me.” She utters.

He shakes his head frantically, squeezing her hand so tightly it almost hurts. “No. I wanted to see you. More than anything.”

She tries to pull her hand away. “You’re confusing me, Antoine. That was the problem—”

“—Wait! Wait! Please!” He goes for her hand again, and she lets him, though she keeps her grip loose.

“I wanted to see you. But I was genuinely concerned for your safety. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He grimaces, letting out a hollow laugh. “Hell of a job I did at keeping that from happening, huh?”

“And I didn’t want you to leave again. Because I knew I’d try to follow you. And I almost did. You don’t understand the pull you have on me—I wanted to be with you more than anything, more than I wanted to run. So I pushed back against it. Tried to ignore it. Threw myself into my work so I didn’t have to face it. Because facing you, in my mind, meant facing what I’ve been through.” He tentatively reaches a hand out, gently cups the side of her face, wiping away a tear. She has to keep herself from nuzzling into his hand.

“I can’t run from you. Yet I kept trying. And I was a fucking idiot for it.” He grits his teeth, the anger at himself glaringly clear.

“Because throughout all of this, I never communicated what I was feeling with you. I didn’t try to get over my fears for you. I was only thinking about myself and what I wanted. And you...” He slides his hand under her chin, leaving a trail of fire burning on her skin.

“...You tried to keep me happy. You followed me on my whims, you let me take the lead while I made decisions about us without ever consulting you. And I hate that I made you feel like you had to do that.” She feels her face burn, more tears spilling onto her face. His breath catches at that.

“Baby, can I hold you? Please? I can’t—”

She throws herself into his arms, full on sobbing now. He catches her, tucking her face into his neck, making shushing noises despite him having a few tears of his own, as he holds her tight, stroking her back. She feels him bury his face onto the top of her head. He continues. “I’m so sorry. It took that conversation and being without you for me to realize what an ass I’ve been. I’d love to keep you with me but more than anything I want to keep you happy.”

“I’ve scheduled my first therapy appointment.” He admits. “I’m not just doing it for you but it’s also for me. It’s for us.”

She pulls away, and at first he tightens his hold around her like it pains him to let go, but he eventually lets up. “If we get back together, you better be doing all of this for yourself. I can’t be your—“ she swallows, “—your emotional crutch. Not anymore.”

His eyes are understanding, earnest. “I know that. I don’t want you to be. I’m doing this because honestly…I need it, after what went down. And I want to make you proud. I wanna support you, too. To be here for you.”

She feels her heart swell in her chest despite herself. The last of her walls crumble away, and she’s left looking at him with an admiring, but stern, smile. “I’m not going through that shit again, Dawson.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I don’t hurt you again,” he promises, holding her hand over the strong, steady beat of his heart. She knows he’s telling the truth.

“Y/N—” She cuts him off with a kiss. He starts, but soon returns it, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap, hands gripping her waist. It’s painful, longing, loving--everything that they feel for one another poured into that kiss. She pulls away, but not too far, leaning her head against his. He shifts so his lips are a whisper away from hers, sneaking in a few more kisses.

“Y/N. I love you.” And she finally believes it. “And I’m done running. Will you be with me? Please?”

Her heart flutters. “I love you too.” She feels his heart speed up where it’s pressed against her chest. He hugs her even closer. She smiles against his lips. “You have me.”

#Antoine lovelink #Antoine dawson #noah lovelink #noah cruz #lovelink #lovelink fanfic #lovelink imagine #Antoine Dawson x reader #Noah cruz x reader

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tamakissimp · 3 years

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headcanon- secretly rich s/o

request: @rayanicaraynbow Hi! This might be a little weird, but could I get headcanons for Todoroki, YaoMomo, Shinsou, and Jiro with a s/o that is the child of a pro hero/someone who's just generally rich, but they have a different last name than their rich parent, so nobody knows their rich. I'm not sure if this is *too* specific or not specific *enough*. If not, that's fine, it was just a random 1 AM thought, and I couldn't find a rules list if there was one. I love your blog btw! :)

a/n: I wrote Shouto’s differently because this boy 100% has a rich people radar. idc it’s true.

TODOROKI:

He'll probably know that you're rich before you tell him. He most likely saw you at a 'rich people' party when he was younger.

He knows how much it sucks to be judge by your parents' name so he'll ignore the topic of your family all together.

Shouto thinks it's cute and sad at the same time how much you try to hide your wealth.

He loves how nonrich you act. Going to thrift shops as dates, always sharing bills, checking price tags, not always getting name-brand stuff.

He loves how normal he feels around you. No pressure to go out to fancy restaurants. You tow can just make a nice homecooked meal.

Absolutely adores the low maintenance dates. You two can go for a walk in the park and call it a date.

You've already gone through your 'allowance' (while you have a couple hundred thousand in your bank account) and still need a sweater. He'll use this as an excuse to gift you his clothing. Seeing you in his shirts makes his heart do summersaults.

"Shouto.". The half-and-half boy turns around at the sound of your voice. His hearts warm up at the sight of you, a big smile plastered on your cheeks while you hold a shirt in front of you. "Look how cute this is! And it's only 300 yen.".

Shouta walks over to you and presses the shirt against you slightly. He tries to imagine how it would look on you. "It's pretty," he says. "But it'll look even prettier on you.". You give his chest a playful swat as you hide your face behind the shirt. "What, it's true.".

"You are a flirt, mister," you say before twirling around and walking to the changing rooms in the thrift shop. Shouta doesn't know what he's feeling. Maybe it's love, maybe it's happiness, maybe it's longing. He doesn't know. All he knows is that he's hooked on how domestic things like going shopping together feel. How normal everything feels. He isn't Shouto Todoroki, son of Endeavor. You aren't Y/n Y/L/n, child of one of the richest family in Japan.

No, you're just Shouta and Y/n. Just a young couple wanting to spend their afternoon together.

MOMO:

She is very rich herself. Even though she should be able to recognize a fellow rich person, she doesn't.

She always pays when you go out to eat, she buys you the most extravagant gifts while yours are just average.

You even got a job, not wanting to solely rely on your parents' money.

Every time she offered to pay for something or gift you something, you had to stifle your laughter. Her intent is kind and sweet but at the same time useless. You could easily buy all the stuff she gifts you yourself.

You like to DIY stuff with her. Upcycling old clothing, tailoring thrift shop clothing, mixing broken items. You make it a bonding experience for both of you.

If she thinks that you're on the poorer side than she'll spoil you to death. Either with basic things like your favourite snacks or with that shirt she's seen you eyeing in the store.

She had no clue about your wealth so when she found out, she was perplexed.

It isn't weird for Aizawa to take attendance, though he forgot to do so most of the times. "Bakugou," he says. Bakugou grunts in response. You and Momo are too caught up in your own hushed conversation to pay attention to what the teacher is saying.

"Tanaka," Aizawa says. Fuck. Your attention is suddenly turned to the teacher. Students look around themself for the said Tanaka. "Oh, sorry. Y/l/n.". You raise your hand and drop it back down the second Aizawa acknowledges your presence.

You turn back to Momo. Her jaw has dropped and she's looking at you with wide eyes. "You're a Tanaka?". You nod at her question. Everyone knew the Tanaka's. They're the richest family in Japan, owning multiple renown hero agency.

"Yeah," you say as you awkwardly scratch at the back of your neck. "But I go by my father's name.". Momo nods. She understands the pressure of being seen as the 'rich kid'. The assumptions people make about you just because of your financial status.

"Don't worry," she says. "You're still Y/n to me.". You smile at her before continuing your conversation. God, how did you get lucky enough to end up with someone like Momo?

SHINSO:

Shinso never cared about how much money you had or how little. All he cared about is that you're with him. That you don't judge him for his quirk.

So he never noticed the few designer pieces of clothing you had mixed between your wardrobe. Or the fact that you always had the newest model phone on the market.

He thought that you were just being kind and wanted to treat him when you offered to pay the bill whenever you went out to eat.

When you were younger, you tried to hide who your mother was more but as you went older and went to the U.A, you started to accept it more.

So, when Shinsou found out you're the child of a pro-hero, saying he's shocked is an understatement.

Guest speakers come every often. At least once a week, the school arrange a pro-hero to come and give the class a pep talk or give them tips. Due to this, you knew that it was only a matter of time before your mother would be standing before your class.

"I'll pick you up at your dorm.". You read over your mother's text a hundred times. Even though you weren't the one who's going to be standing in front of a class full of hyperactive, overly excited students you're still nervous. You tap your foot against the floor as you bit your nails.

"Y/n!". You turn to your left. You see your mother standing in the elevator, waving at your happily before mentioning you to come over. You take quick steps towards her. The moment you're within arms-reach she pulls you in for a hug. "I missed you. Have you gotten taller?".

You swat her hand away as she tries to ruffle through your hair. "A little. And I missed you too.". The elevator doors close and you two start to move downwards. You tell your mother all about your class but your conversation is interrupted when the elevator stops and another person enters.

"Baby?". You look up as you see your boyfriend standing before you. His eyes wander from you to the pro-hero, your mother, standing beside you. He bows slightly to her before standing beside you.

"Is this the boy you've been telling me about?" your mother asks as she nudges your side. Your cheeks heat up as you nod your head. "He's handsome!". You look over at Shinso, who's eyes are wide. He tilts his head as you can almost see the gears in his hand turning.

You smile at him. "Shinso, this is my mom," you say. With that his jaw drops. Sure, he saw how much you two looked alike but he didn't think much of it. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times as he tries to think of what to say.

"You didn't tell him about me?". You shake your head at your mother's question. The elevator doors open against and your mother quickly slips out of the it, leaving you and a barely functioning Shinsou behind.

You lace your fingers through Shinsu's and pull him out of the elevator. "You're.....She's your mom?" he asks. You nod while keeping your eyes fixed on the ground. Will he judge you? Will he be mad that you didn't tell him? "Huh, never would have guessed.". You're taken aback by his cheery tone but your confusion doesn't last long as Shinso drags you along with him to your classroom. Well, that went smoother than you imagined.

JIRO:

Much like Shinsou, she doesn't care about your wealth. She doesn't care about your money. All she cares about is that you love her.

She'll start to grow suspicious when you buy concert tickets and new instruments for her like it's nothing but she won't bring it up.

Jiro will probably try to 'compensate' with your gifts and goes out of her way with cute dates and romantic gestures.

She doesn't say a thing about your wealth until you gift her a new guitar for the third time.

And when she accidentally sees your true last name on a letter your parents send you, she's surprised. You, her Y/n who's she's been with for so long, is filthy rich.

"Surprise," you say as you push the beautifully wrapped box towards her. Jiro quirks up her brow as she carefully rips the patterned paper of the box. She opens it to reveal a new guitar.

She recognizes the model. You've seen her eying it for a week now. Your heart warms up as you see a smile spread across her lips. "Again?" she asks. You nod.

"I couldn't help myself," you explain. "I wanted to hear you play on it.". Jiro just shakes her head with a smile as she continues to unbox the instrument.

You watch her intensively as she places the now fully unwrapped guitar next to her older ones. It stands out. It's shinier than the others. "How do you afford this?" she says. "A guitar is like 60,000 yen.". You just shrug as you pull her towards you.

"Oh, it's...inheritance.". You feel bad for lying straight through your teeth but you don't know who she'll react if she finds out about your family. You plaster on a smile.

"I saw the letter," she says. Your blood runs cold. Maybe she saw a different letter. Yeah, it must have been. "I don't care about your family.". Oh crap. She definitely read the letter.

Your smile falters a bit. Jiro notices and cups your cheeks. "Is something wrong?" she asks. Her voice calms you down a bit. You just shake your head.

"No, I just..." you say. "I just thought you might...act differently when you found out.". She shakes her head and plants a kiss on your forehead.

"God no, you're still my Y/n," Jiro says.

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lizzy-williams · 4 years

Text

𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

♡ Warnings: smut, language, bdsm...kinda?, dominate and submissive, drugs, threesomes.

♡ Requested?: NO. I wanted to do this myself

♡Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdpwA7bzrDE

Killing Me Softly With His Song by Fugees (slowed)

masterlist

((with this, I’m going more into depth of what this crazy kinky relationship is like, because I have a lot of ideas.))

HERE, read these first:

𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐮𝐱)

I N T R O ●○●○●○●○●○●○●

✧ Okay, first thing’s first, there is a hierarchy that has formed. We all know Dominic is a little chaotic, and Colson is too, but Dominic is harder to control. AND YOU. ARE. BABY. So, we all know that Colson is the ultimate dominate. Dom’s in the middle, not as dominate, but will still fuck the shit out of you any day and not even say sorry.

✧ They love when you’re compliant and submissive. They love being able to hold you like a teddy bear on their worst days (or fuck your brains out.) But they also love how innocent you seem. That is, until you get into the bedroom.

✧ They love how small you seem next to them, especially when you’re pressed up against them, clothed or not, their lanky arms wrapped around you.

✧ So fucking protective of you. You love having your independence when the boys are away, but when their with you at any time, they become mama goose.

✧ They know your body more than you do, and that what makes it better. \

D O M I N I C ●○●○●○●○●○●○●

✮ We already know that he’ll be the softer out of the two boys. He loves spending time with you, hugging and kissing and cuddling until your face turns blue. He loves your innocence, even if you technically didn’t have it anymore.

✮ He loves when you go out together, just you and him. Sure, he loves Colson, but he also loves to do things with just you, it seems more intimate. Going someplace like an arcade or the movies will make his month for sure.

✮ His favorite position will FOREVER be the cowgirl. He loves watching our breasts bounce as you use him to pleasure yourself. That is, until he’s done with you having control, then he just pushes you down, chest to chest, and drives up into you.

✮ Loves to hear you. Like when he hits the perfect spot inside you and you make a noise only he can force you to make... he’ll be on cloud 9.

✮ Finds degrading names almost impossible to use. Slut, whore, etc. He finds the attraction appalling, and would never call you degrading names. That’s Colson’s job.

✮ More of a handcuff type of guy. Don’t get me wrong, he loves seeing you in ropes and ties, but he would much rather prefer to have you wear a set of fabric covered cuffs, taking you however he wants.

✮ Loves when you suck his fingers, especially his middle ones. He loves seeing his heart tattoo appear and disappear between your lips.

✮ You do his makeup sometimes, and he loves it. It’s something special you two share, and you couldn’t ask for more.

✮ Some things that he says that are attractive as fuck:

n s f w:

- “I love your pretty little noises,”

- “Tell me how good it feels,”

- “You feel so fucking good, love,”

- “Daddy loves you... daddy loves you so fucking much.”

s f w:

- “shh, I’ve got you,”

- “So fucking beautiful, baby,”

- “I love you to the moon and back, babygirl,”

- “Such a sweet thing, aren’t ya?”

C O L S O N ●○●○●○●○●○●○●

♥ Colson loves you with everything in him. He’s never felt about this about anyone. Romantically, at least.

♥ LOVES to spoil you. Whether it’s with clothes, technology, or a new collar, he loves to watch your face light up when he hands you something new... but lemme just tell you... your birthday is insane.

♥ Likes wax play, not on him of course, but on you. He loves watching you squirm as the liquid turns solid against your exposed skin.

♥ His favorite position has to be missionary. It might be simple, but it’s his favorite for a way more sinful reason. He loves to see the tummy bulge when he rams into you so deep, he can see the outline of his shaft inside you

♥ Hates to admit it, but he gets so weak when you praise him. He like communication during sex, and when you use communication to make him feel good, it drives him to the edge so fast.

♥ Demands eye contact when you’re talking to him. If you don’t, he’ll lift your chin gently with his fingers. But if you’ve been a tease all day, he’ll simply just grab your jaw and shove you face first into a surface and take you right then and there.

♥ You KNOW this bitch likes to fuck around with knives. Knife play is essential. He won’t cut too deep, and will take care of your wounds after you have your fun. Unless you pissed him off, in that case, he’ll leave you to clean them up yourself.

♥ He hates when you’re a brat. While Dom may enjoy it, Colson hates it. Sometimes he feels so out of control of his life, and he at least wants to have control over one aspect of his life...

♥ Loves ice play. His pupils will dilate when you let out small whimpers. When it’s all melted, he’ll lick the water off of you. The heat difference between the cold water and his tongue feels so good.

♥ Smoking weed after sex is a must, as long as you aren’t too tired, and on special days, you might even trip up on shrooms or LSD. Sex on drugs is different, because some senses are enhanced.

♥ Working out together sometimes, which of course always leads to something else.

♥ Spontaneous late night car rides. You’ll be on the couch chilling and all of a sudden you’ll hear colson rushing down the stairs, “Lets go for a drive”

♥ Some things that he says that are hot as fuck:

n s f w:

- “I know, baby, I know,”

- “Look at me, princess,”

- “You love it when I fill you, don’t you...,”

- “ Such a good girl, you’re my good girl.”

- “Shhh, let daddy take care of it,”

s f w:

- “Come here, baby,” (in the context of you wanting a hug)

- “I can't get enough of you.”

- “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

- “You have my heart.”

[ Y / N ] ●○●○●○●○●○●○●

☾ You are quite the little submissive.

☾ Even though you love to please the two, you also love to provoke them. You like seeing how far you can take it before they finally snap. But if they’ve had a hard day, you’ll be the most precious sub in the world.

☾ You love being together all in one group. Sure, having one on one time is nice, but when you’re all together, your the happiest.

☾ You have your independence, but you also understand that a portion of your life is up to the people you love the most. But you’ve consented, knowing they would never do anything bad to you. You trust them.

☾ Even though you’re submissive, you love the amount of power you have over your lovers. With one strip tease, they’ll go from wanting to get a blow job to the one wanting to give you head.

☾ You don’t have a favorite. You love them both to infinity and beyond.

☾ When you truly are submissive, you feel happy and taken care of, because you are. The two boys love you more than anything, and you know it. You’ll always be with them.

☾ You take pride in your looks. Hell, if two boys couldn’t keep their hands off of you, you must have been doing something right.

☾ Always wearing one of the boy’s sweatshirts. They’re big on you, and it makes you feel warm and cozy even when their away, because their clothing always smells like them.

☾ Alone days in the house are hard sometimes. You miss the boys and want to be with them. But they have busy lives. Sometimes one will be away on a tour while the other one is at home, or one is filming and the other is home. Worst case? When they’re both away.

☾ But even when they’re gone for a long time, you’re treated so well, and the boys will make it a point to send extra money to your accounts and flowers to the house to tell you they miss you.

☾ You and Colson always have matching nails.

B O N U S ●○●○●○●○●○●○●

YOUR FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM:

DOM: Physically, you love his lips. Their so big and plush, and they feel amazing to kiss. They make your stomach do summersaults. And they feel amazing when they’re between you legs. But mentally, you love Dom’s hyper demenor. When you’re feeling sad, you love seeing the bright look in his eyes.

COLSON: You love how tall he is. His size compared to you makes you swoon, and he can pick you up easily. His looming sky scraper body type is also nice when you fall asleep together.

HIS FAVORITE OUTFIT ON YOU (NSFW)

✼ DOMINIC:

IT might seem simple, but that’s the while point. The simplicity of it makes it all the more easy to take off. It’s stunning and easy to remove? He’s all in.

✼ COLSON:

HE loves seeing you in something so lacy and subtle... the mesh makes it all the more alluring. And of course, pink is his favorite color on you. Pink is punk ladies and gentleman. Not to mention the collar... easier to pull you in.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

HIS FAVORITE OUTFIT ON YOU (SFW)

✼ DOMINIC:

HE loves seeing you cozied up, because usually he’ll be the one to join you. He loves the feeling of you bundled up in his arms as you snuggle deeper into both the sweater and his arms.

✼ COLSON:

WHEN you aren’t patting around in one of his sweatshirts and no pants, Colson likes seeing you in the clothes he would see you in before you all got together. It just makes him remember why he loves you. Not for the sex or the power dynamic, but for you. Who you are. And your clothes reflect that.

((ASK QUESTIONSSSSS!!! I would love to answer sommeee. Just be sure to put 2 before the question.))

Example: 2: Yes, Hi! I wanted to request, etc.

Thank you for reading :D

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hanibalistic · 3 years

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#890E0A | LEE MINHO.

genre | faint angst, platonic relationship, fluff

word count | 1641

warning | brief mention of toxic friendships, anger directed at oneself

note | for a good friend of mine who won’t see this, and perhaps for all the angry and neglected souls out there, i wish you great joy soon.

minho slid a piece of paper over to you when he plopped down on his seat. you glared at it, and then up at him, and you scoffed when you saw him busying himself with the container filled with colored markers.

oh, hell, he better not have dragged you out of your one-minute meditation—which was hardly meditation at all, you were simply containing the fustration your research paper was causing you—just to have a drawing session with neon-colored markers.

"why the fuck am i here?" you asked, leaning back against the chair and sighing in annoyance.

"hey," he eyed you sharply, "mind your language."

"you upset me," you said, disregarding his warning but taking it into account anyway. "you pulled me out of studying during finals week, and you have upset me. give me a reason why i should mind my language?"

he arched his brows, slightly annoyed but understanding and sympathetic enough of your situation to not throw flames at you for being rather disrespectful. he knew you would come around when all was said and done, and you would eventually make it up to him with a grumble of apology that was just genuine enough you wouldn't need to buy him an extra cup of coffee to make him feel better.

"how are your classes?" he asked instead, diverting the conversation as he picked out the bright colors within the rainbow of options and slowly set them out before him. "are you doing good in school so far?"

you pursed your lips together, feeling icky that he was asking about your business despite you hinting so many times that you were stressed about school and the upcoming exams. perhaps you felt bitter that he was the only person who decided to reach out and ask, that he was the only one who caught onto your subtle hints, while still feeling touched that... well, he was the only person who reached out to you and asked.

it has been an on-going war with yourself—you didn't want to like minho, he was obnoxious and honest. but he was also caring, understanding, fierce, and peculiarly tolerant. you should have scared him away by now, or at least gotten him angry with your seasonally terrible behavior, but he was still here, after years.

somewhere down the line, you realized, whether you like it or not, minho was your kind of people and he was not someone you should want to let go of at all.

"it's going good so far. i am not very confident in how i would do but you know me," you smiled a little, "i always end up with a good grade."

he huffed out a smile, his lips quirking up. after finally collecting all the bright colored pencils, he looked at you and reached over, dropping them on your paper. returning to his seat, he motioned toward the pencils and spoke, "you want to draw?"

"no," you immediately replied. "you really dragged me out here to do this stupid shit? when i have an exam coming up?"

"how many times do you think you can pull the exam card before i get tired of you?" he asked, grinning at you with a sense of mockery that let you know he, again, was not very happy with your tone.

"about five times ago," you said boldly, staring straight at him with a face of blank expression yet your heart beat rapidly.

you never stop. you were afraid, always, that this would be the last staw you could pull, that this would be the last of his nerve you could step on, that this would be it. you waited for him to yell at you, you waited for him to cuss and scoff at you, you waited for the scolding to happen—and it does happen, rightfully so, but it was gentle.

minho has never scolded you in a way that made you feel inferior, in a way that feigned understanding, in a way that made you feel as if your feelings didn't matter at the expense of another.

because you do matter to him, a lot. and he would hate to have you feel like your feelings have been neglected over his need to correct your misplaced anger, whether it was of the world or yourself.

"are you angry?" he asked, tilting his head and arching a brow. "do you feel like everyone is against you?"

you looked up at him, gulping down a lump of saliva. and you muttered, "not angry, just dissatisfied... and lonely... and stressed."

he hummed, his eyes softening. "why?"

"i feel neglected, like i don't belong," you said. "and it was my fault. i think the problem is me, but i hate that i am the problem because i–"

you wanted so badly to find people you could be yourself with, unconditionally, enduringly. put aside affection and love, you wanted resonance, compassion, tolerance. but you were so scared you wouldn't be able to do so that you forced yourself to stay with those you were with right now, to be okay with what you have right now, even though those were not the right things for you.

and it broke you.

it completely tore you down, like water to fire, fire to earth, like light to shadow, shadow to bones. it broke you, made you angry, made you sad, made you snap. like a child yelling at their parents after they felt as if they have been wronged. it made you hurtful, so hurtful, and everyone blamed you for the damage others have put upon you.

"pick up the red marker," minho said after your sudden pause. "i find it helpful with releasing anger."

you clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes, looking away to hide the incoming tears you refused to let fall. "what the hell am i supposed to draw?"

"oh, i don't know," he replied casually, picking up a marker and begun doodling on the paper he prepared for himself. "what does your anger look like today?"

you clenched your jaw. "i'm not angry."

"oh, but i think you should be," he said. "rightfully so, as well, with friends like yours."

you opened your mouth, and then you closed it. after a moment of thought, happy memories flashing before your head causing your heart a moment of wavering weakness, you licked your lower lip and defended, "they're not... they're not bad people."

"yet they make you hate yourself, they make you feel like you have no place with them," he said, focusing on his paper. "they make you feel as if you don't matter, and you are only there to be funny before they forget about you."

you clenched your grip on the marker—he was spot-on.

"they're not bad people. they're friendly, they're good, and you loved them. but, unfortunately, they are not your kind of people," he said, and he finally looked at you. "and that makes you irretrievably upset, because you don't want to hate them yet again and again–"

"i can't help but dislike them all," you finished the sentence for him before taking in a shuddering breath.

"and that's okay," he muttered, "being angry is okay."

you are young, and emotional, and sad, and annoyed, and giddy. the range of emotion you could feel, the spectrum of colors you could experience according to what you do, what you like, the people you are with—your choices, your words, your mistakes, your beautiful, beautiful mind.

you will hurt people, intentionally and unintentionally. you will make people love, intentionally and unintentionally. you will apologize, you will express gratitude, you will sing and dance, and you will find your people, your person.

"be angry, and let it teach you a thing or two," he said. "just don't put it on jisung next time, okay? he's fragile, and he cares about you enough to feel upset that you, out of all people, said those things to him."

your heart thumped. until the last moment, still, he cared about you more than your words. and that would be what makes your apology genuine; not out of obligation, but out of a need, for both of your sake.

"i always apologize at the end, you don't have to remind me," you said. "i knew i was being a piece of shit."

"being self-aware is good, but it is not enough," minho said. "try doing something else next time, alright?"

you nodded quietly, your eyes moving from your paper to his face. he was so nonchalant, as he always has been. you never felt pressured by him, he lets you take it all in at your own pace, and he would always make sure he gets his point across.

"minho," you called then, and you only spoke when he looked over at you. "you know i only listen to you because i never felt like you have wronged me, right?"

his lectures, his scolding—you willingly accepted them because he has no record of making you feel disregarded and expendable, he has never made you feel like you had to be annoying to get attention, and he reached out unprovoked.

and he was your kind of people. and his kindness was not for a public show and tell.

pursing his lips into a kind smile, one that you felt as if you were undeserving of, he said, "thank you."

and he picked up his paper. you squinted your eyes at it, seeing that there were a tree and a cat next to it. it was an ugly drawing, but it was very much like him to draw something like this.

"my anger today is green and yellow," he said. "and yours?"

you sat up and took a look at the markers. licking your lips, you picked up a red marker and smiled at him, genuinely.

"i am thinking red."

minho nodded in approval.

an excellent choice.

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