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capcarolsdanver · 3 years

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A Christmas Carol

Summary: You’re left with the disappointing fact that you will likely be spending yet another Christmas without your girlfriend, Carol Danvers. Your friends offer you support, but all you really need right now is your girlfriend to return from space to be with you for your favourite holiday. Can you count on a Christmas miracle? Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader A/N: Well... it’s not quite Christmas still, but I severely underestimated how busy I would be over the holidays, so please enjoy this late Christmas fic! Feedback is always appreciated so please let me know what you think! Please do not repost any of my writing anywhere else without my permission.

The annual Avengers Christmas get together is in full swing, and your eyes sweep out across the room to all of your closest friends around you. Of course, everyone’s having a great time, and the open space of the large party hall at Avenger HQ is full of laughter and joyous chatter amongst the guests.

Thor, who still doesn’t exactly understand Christmas, just seems happy to get to spend time with his favourite people. He brought along a generous supply of Asgardian alcohol for those who have what would be classified as a very high tolerance to alcohol, so as expected everyone is in a very joyous mood.

You yourself had found a spot on one of the couches surrounding a small table and had barely moved the whole night, feeling more in the mood to spectate in the festivities rather than participate this year.

Not to say that you’re sitting on your own in some miserable slump, because you are genuinely trying to enjoy everybody’s company, but you can’t deny the Carol-sized void that is particularly evident anywhere you go. Especially during the holidays.

As if to emphasise it, Steve, who’s sitting opposite you from across the small table, catches your eye.

“So, Y/N. When’s your lady coming home?”

He asks you kindly, with a warm smile, as Steve always does. Despite this, you can’t help it when your own smile falters and everyone sitting in your immediate proximity grows quiet, regarding you with sympathy.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Steve rushes to say when he seems to realise his mistake.

“No, don’t be,” you’re quick to reassure. “I knew what I was getting into when I started dating Carol. I can’t exactly expect space crime to conveniently stop in time for the holidays, can I?”

You choose not to bring up that this will be the third Christmas in a row that you have to spend without Carol, but you still feel the pity practically radiating from every person in the group.

“Okay, who else thinks it’s time for shots?” Sam yells loud enough to be heard over the music by everyone, and the group seems to loudly agree. You remind yourself to thank Sam later for successfully shifting everyone’s attention from you.

Everyone scrambles to each grab a shot. You remain seated on the couch, and moments later Nat takes her own spot on the couch next to you and presses a shot glass into your hands just in time for everybody to simultaneously start counting down from 3.

Somewhere between shouting and cheering, everyone downs their shots, and you all seem to collectively wince. You and Nat both grimace at the burn of the alcohol and it manages to get a chuckle from you.

Nat drops her shot glass on the table before she turns to face you again.

“So. Real talk,” she raises an eyebrow as if warning you not to try to back away from the conversation. “When did you last speak to Carol?”

“A couple weeks ago,” you admit, sighing. “She left on some mission about a month ago. But you know how it is when she’s working up there. It’s so hard for either of us to contact the other.”

Nat smiles sadly. “I’m sorry.” She pats your knee and you shrug at her, though you feel like you’re able to let your guard down a bit now that everyone else in preoccupied.

“Yeah, it sucks,” you let out, feeling Carol’s absence hit you all over again. Your eyes fill with tears that threaten to spill over.

Unexpectedly, and uncharacteristically, Nat pulls you into a hug. You give yourself little time to think about her rare show of affection before you gratefully wrap your arms around her and rest your chin on her shoulder.

“Did she tell you how long the mission might last?”

You shake her head. “No, she just said she might not be able to contact me until she was done.”

“Okay, I think you need another drink,” Nat says, releasing you from her arms. “I’ll be back.”

You quickly wipe at your eyes at the chance of any rogue tears that managed to fall and smile at her before she stands up and heads towards the bar.

————————

On the morning of Christmas Eve, you wake up with a start to some kind of commotion going from somewhere outside the room. You quickly survey your surroundings, remembering that you had decided the previous night to just stay at Avengers HQ after the party, like almost everyone else had. You’re in your old room that you used to live in before you and Carol had moved out together.

The commotion that had woken you up appears to still be going on if the shouting from somewhere outside your closed door is any indiction, so you begrudgingly get up to go investigate.

You follow the loud intrusion of sound into the kitchen, where you aren’t all that surprised to find Bucky and Sam shouting and gesturing wildly at one another.

“Dude, don’t lie. You literally stole my pop tart straight from my plate!” Bucky looks livid. Opposite him, Sam throws his arms out away from his body, matching Bucky’s outrage.

“You have no proof, you moron.”

“Why do I need proof when there was no one else around? It couldn’t have been anyone else.”

You continue watching their exchange, entirely unsurprised that they are blowing up over something as small as a pop tart. You’re half considering just heating another pop tart to shut them up when Nat leans on the wall next to you, taking a sip from her steaming mug of coffee while her eyes also land on the boys.

“Bet you’re glad you don’t wake up to this kind of thing everyday in that fancy apartment of yours, huh?”

“You can say that again,” you laugh. Though, of course, you probably do prefer waking up to these regular early morning antics from the boys than to the empty silence of your apartment whenever Carol isn’t there with you.

“You’re still coming with us to look at Christmas lights tonight, right?”

To be honest, you’d completely forgotten about Steve’s plan for you all to go on some Christmas light trail that night, and although Christmas is generally your favourite holiday, you find yourself not really in the mood to celebrate it this year.

But then again, anything to take your mind off of Carol’s absence sounds appealing to you right now.

“You bet.”

————————

You trail the group, looking around you at all the incredible Christmas displays people have decorated their homes with. There was absolutely no denying how beautiful the entire street is, but as much as you try you just can’t seem to get out of your own head.

Steve’s leading the group and you can hear them all excitedly chatting, pointing out particularly well decorated houses, but you’re content to linger towards the back of the group and take everything in on your own. You know you’re lacking the Christmas spirit needed to participate with them right now, anyway.

A solid hand is suddenly falling around your shoulders, successfully shaking you from whatever broody train of thought you were on as you almost jump out of your skin. Your head snaps to the person you were now attached to, seeing Thor’s wide smile. He tugs you closer to him in an almost brotherly fashion.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is,” you manage, after your heart beat finally slows back down to a normal rate again.

“Ah, you’re yet to hear from Carol, I presume?” Thor asks. You’ve gotta give him credit. As much as he’s completely enthralled by the Christmas lights surrounding you, Thor can still pick up on your solemn mood with remarkable ease.

“You presume correctly.”

You see Thor hesitate for only a moment before he speaks. “Might I offer a few words, Y/N?”

“Sure,” you say, sighing. What could you lose from hearing what he has to say? Plus, the Asgardian usually provided you with some pretty solid advice.

“Please give Carol a little patience. I know firsthand how difficult it can be to communicate with you all while I’m not here.” You soften at Thor’s words, not even aware of how tense your body was. “You all are my family. And it hurts when I’m unable to talk to any of you whenever I’d like,” he explains. “So, please just remember that Carol is likely just as anxious to speak with you as well.”

“Right,” you say more to yourself. Thor’s words somehow do make you feel some kind of comfort in the fact that Carol wasn’t choosing to go so long without talking to you. Not that you thought she was, but the reassurance helps.

Thor squeezes your shoulder in comfort and loosens his grip from around your shoulders, but before he can leave your side again you grab his arm.

“Thank you, Thor,” you say sincerely, and he gives you an understanding smile before leaving you to your own thoughts again.

At some point a little later, Steve seems to notice from his spot at the front of the pack that you’re still lagging behind, because he drops his pace to fall into step with you.

“Are you having a good night, Y/N?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you smile. As distracted as you’ve been, it’s hard to miss how much fun the others in your group are having. “Thanks for organising this, Steve.”

He returns your smile and nods. “Well, for most of us, we’re all we’ve got. I figured it was time to start making some traditions of our own.”

“Well I like that sound of that,” you say. You really do appreciate everything Steve does for every single one of you, and he was right. You are family. Personally, if it weren’t for the Avengers, you would have no one else. You know the same applies for many of you, the man you were currently talking to included.

“Hey, listen,” Steve says in a considerably more careful tone. “I wanted to apologise again for bringing up Carol last night.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassure him, shaking your head.

“I know, but-” He shrugs. “I just feel bad about bringing her up when we were supposed to be getting into the Christmas spirit last night. I mean, what is this, your second Christmas without Carol?”

“My third, actually,” you mutter, clearing your throat and dropping your eyes to the pavement in front of you.

“Shit, here I go again,” he curses, watching you. “I’m sorry.”

“Steve, stop apologising,” you say firmly. “Seriously, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

You take a scan of your surroundings. The street sign catches your eye and you realise you’re only a few blocks away from your apartment, which sounds like an awfully appealing place to be right now. You were exhausted from your previous late night, plus, what little Christmas spirit you did have has been all but spent this far into the Christmas light trail.

“Oh, you know what? We’re pretty close to my apartment. I think I might call it a night.”

Steve’s eyes widen and his features settle into a look of guilt. “You aren’t going to come back to HQ with the rest of us?”

“Nah, I think I just want to head home. I’m pretty tired.”

“Oh man, I totally ruined your night, didn’t I?” Steve shakes his head at himself, his look of guilt deepening even further. “I can’t believe I brought Carol up again.”

You interrupt Steve’s inevitable continued apologies before he can even start.

“Steve, no. My brain was never going to turn off tonight, anyway. It wouldn’t matter if none of you mentioned Carol the entire day, I still would have thought of her.”

Steve looks fairly unconvinced, still clearly internally scolding himself. Though you notice his features soften and eventually he nods.

“Do you need someone to walk with you?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s really not far at all.”

“Alright,” he hesitantly agrees. “But we’ll see you in the morning to exchange gifts and everything, right?”

“Right,” you laugh. “Hey, do me a favour and let everyone else know I left early. Nat would never let me leave a group activity early if I told her I wanted to.”

“No problem,” Steve laughs.

You give his forearm a quick squeeze in thanks, waving to him before you make your way towards your apartment.

————————

You’ve barely even made it a block before your phone starts ringing. You fish it out from your pocket, assuming that it’s Nat, calling to berate you for leaving the group early. Without even checking the caller ID, you answer.

“I don’t want to hear it, I’m not coming back,” you say, not leaving opportunity for the person on the other line to get a word in first.

“Coming back to where?”

The voice on the other line is not Nat. In fact, it’s the last voice you were expecting to hear tonight.

“Carol?!” You practically squeal into the phone, stopping dead in your tracks.

“Hey, baby,” she says and you instantly melt, having gone weeks without hearing her voice.

“Oh my god. Hi,” you greet back, feeling like you could burst into tears at any given minute.

“You okay there?” You can practically hear her smirk and the image of it in your mind makes you smile.

“Yeah, I just can’t believe I’m hearing your voice right now.”

“Well you better believe it, babe, because it’s definitely happening.”

Your brain finally recovers from the shock enough to ask a vital question. “Wait, does this mean your mission is over?”

“Mmhm,” she confirms. “Finished a couple days ago, actually, but this is the first chance I’ve had to be able to call you.”

You can’t help the sudden hopefulness that you feel. If the mission ended a couple of days ago and she was already on her way back to Earth, then it was entirely possible that she could be back within the next day.

You let out a deep breath, your emotions almost getting the best of you. With your mind racing a million miles a minute, you subconsciously start taking some more steps forward. The snow beneath your feet crunches slightly with every step you take.

“Where are you?” She asks curiously, and you assume she’s heard the sounds of your footsteps.

“Uh, I’m on my way to the apartment.”

“Wait, you’re walking to the apartment? Alone?!”

“Hey, I can handle myself,” you chuckle. “I am an Avenger, remember? Besides, I’m only a couple of blocks away.”

“Oh yeah?” Her voices lilts slightly. “Why are you even walking the streets at night, anyway?”

“How do you know it’s nighttime? Doesn’t everywhere look like night in space?” You can’t help but tease and Carol laughs.

“Well, is it nighttime?”

“…Yes,” you admit. “But that’s nothing more than a lucky guess.”

“Uh huh,” Carol replies, and you can hear her smirk through the phone again. The things you would do to see that smirk in person at this moment…

“Anyway,” you interrupt your own train of thought. “I was with everyone up until a few minutes ago. We were out looking at lights.”

“Lights? What kind of lights are so special that you’ve gotta go out in a group to go look at them?”

You’re left dumbstruck for a moment. She surely hasn’t forgotten what time of year it is, has she? You’d only reminded her about a month ago, and she knows how much you love the holiday. You assumed she would have remembered.

“We were looking at Christmas lights,” you clarify.

“Oh. Well now it makes sense,” you laughs. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be looking at Christmas lights, though?”

You’re hit with the fact that she’s actually forgotten what time of year it is. You try to shake off the sudden disappointment, though you’re a little too aware that if she has forgotten the date then she likely hasn’t begun her journey back to Earth just yet either. Which means another Carol-less Christmas for you once more.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you eventually mutter into the phone.

“It is?” She sounds vaguely surprised at your clarification. “Huh. I guess it’s pretty easy to lose track of time up here.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“So you’re heading back to the apartment?” She continues on as if you hadn’t just revealed to her that your favourite holiday is mere hours away. You can’t exactly be mad at her, though. As she said, it’s easy to lose track of time while she’s doing important work up in space. “Why not HQ with everyone else?”

“I just felt like being home, I guess,” you explain. “I wasn’t in the Christmas spirit and we were pretty close to the apartment, so I decided to head home early.”

You hear Carol hum in acknowledgement as you use your keycard to get into your apartment building. You start up the flight of stairs leading to your apartment.

“So, when do you think you’ll be back?” You can’t help but ask. Realistically, you have known for weeks that Carol likely wouldn’t make it back in time for Christmas. Though, with Christmas Day only a few hours away, and your short-lived hopes of her returning any day now, the disappointment of her not being here is fresh once again.

“Soon,” Carol says vaguely and you frown.

“Soon? That could mean anything,” you complain. “Don’t you have at least some idea of when you’ll be back?” You can’t help the slight bite to your tone, the frustration of everything seemingly growing by the minute.

You fumble with your keys, your current conversation leaving you preoccupied enough to struggle with the basic task of locating the correct key on your keychain to grant you entrance into your apartment.

“I don’t know, babe,” you hear Carol say and you finally unlock the door, pushing it open and walking into your apartment, slamming the door shut behind you. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Her voice sounds suddenly different, louder, and you twist around on the spot until you’re facing your living room.

You gasp when you see her. Carol is standing beside your Christmas tree. Her eyes are on you and she still has her phone pressed to her ear. The only thing that rivals the bright lights of the tree is her wide grin, bright enough to light up the room all on its own.

Your wide eyes refuse to blink as you look back at her. You’re suddenly all out of words.

You watch as Carol takes one step closer, and then another, until she’s closing the distance between the two of you. The closer she gets to you, the softer her smile grows.

“You’re here,” you whisper into your phone. Carol lowers her own phone, coming to a stop directly in front of you.

“I’m here,” she returns, her own voice barely above a whisper too.

“Hi,” you say dumbly and Carol smiles adoringly at you. She gently takes your phone from your hand and drops it down onto your couch along with her own.

“Hi.”

Before you know what you’re doing, you abruptly tackle her in a tight hug. If she weren’t Captain Marvel you might have been worried about her balance, but she remains steady, wrapping you up in her strong arms.

Without even realising it, tears are spilling out of your eyes and running down your cheeks, and you let out a deep breath you weren’t even aware you were holding, pressing your face into Carol’s neck and breathing in her scent. You feel the lightest you’ve felt in months.

Carol hears your sniffling and takes a step back to look at you. She keeps ahold of your sides.

“You okay?”

“Are you kidding?” You choke out a laugh amidst your tears. “I’m more than okay, Carol. What are you even doing here?”

You still can’t believe your eyes. You can’t believe that the love of your life is standing right in front of you when only moments ago you still believed that she was in outer space.

“What, you really thought I’d let you spend another Christmas without me? It’s your favourite holiday, you know?” She lets go of her hold on your left side to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “You know how much it killed me having to miss the last two Christmases with you.”

You shake your head in disbelief, completely in awe of the woman in front of you.

“I love you so much, Carol.”

“I love you too.” She barely has time to get the words out before your mouth is pressed against hers in a kiss that’s long overdue. You only pull back for a moment when your smile literally grows too big to continue kissing Carol. You both break into laughter, giddy at the joy of finally being together again.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You say the words that repeat over and over in your mind. Carol’s intense gaze regards you and she smiles at you sweetly.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas, Carol,” you reply before your lips are meeting hers again.

————————

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of Christmas carols playing from the living room and the smell of fresh coffee drifting in through your open bedroom door. You can hear Carol softly singing along to the music, and you smile sleepily.

Nat was right. You’ve never been more glad to wake up to the sounds of your apartment than you are right now.

#carol danvers imagine #captain marvel imagine #brie larson imagine #carol danvers x reader #captain marvel x reader #brie larson x reader #mcu imagine #carol danvers #captain marvel #avengers #mcu #mine #fic

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momenacesage · 3 years

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so,, hanseo and miri am i right. the ending never happened so take this headcanon-y / illiterate fic of thoughts as crumbs !!

okay, so, i was thinking, the reason why miri and hanseo don't get together straight away when they both realise their feelings is bc miri says no. don't get me wrong, hanseo has a lot of loyalty and love to give, and he's ready to give it to her. but she disagrees, bc she pushes him to talk through his traumas and realise where he sits in all of it. she wants him to understand himself first bc he's never had the chance to put himself first. she doesn't believe that it would be healthy with his current mental state to jump into another connection so quickly. instead, they take the time, they sit and study so that he can get better at being the chairman, she strokes his hair and protects him from his night terrors whenever he accidentally falls asleep at her place, and he talks to a third party to pinpoint who exactly he is amongst all the messes he's been forced through. she reminds him that there's a little jang hanseo sitting inside of him, in a little locked room that he's kept to himself because he doesn't want to see his true self get abused when his brother has taken everything else from him. he wanted to keep that side of him to himself, at least there was something that he could protect. honestly, going through therapy, he allows himself to realise that the idea of unlocking that room absolutely terrifies him. bc what if he retreats back into that dark place again? what if he allows himself to care for miri but he can't protect them like he couldn't protect his parents, or anyone else around him? and it takes a lot of effort to even get there.

but miri takes him aside, brushes her hand against his and tells him that she loves him for the first time. mind you, this is about a year after the events of the show, but they've been growing side by side this whole time, and when miri loves, she falls deeply. she realises now that she was so absorbed in the thrill of liking someone like vinny, after all, everyone seemed to be romantically interested in that man. but she understands that there wasn't really any truth to it. she's found it hard in the past to feel attachments or really any sort of attraction to people, living a very secular life. so that's why, when she sees these very visceral reactions to the man's looks, she honestly couldn't help but internally look at him the same way. it's like the awe that one may feel when they view a great piece of art, or an amazing scene in a film. there's always a disconnect between the viewer and the subject at hand. but it was a different matter when it came to her puppy.

she'd remembered the first time that she saw him, ducking behind pillars, looking like he was trying to be some goofy spy in that smart suit of his. he'd raise a hand to swipe away a few strands that would fall across his forehead and she couldn't help but wish that she knew what it was like to run her fingers through his hair. the attraction was like a lightning bolt that shot straight through her spine - and that was terrifying to her. so the initial times, she finds that she doesn't purposefully try to interact with the man. happy to stand and observe. miri has gotten so used to being the observer. never the participator.

that changed when he got himself sent to the hospital after being shot. the residents whispered behind palms about how the young man had saved their infamous lawyer pair, but she couldn't help but curse the italian. she knows of his prowess, she knows that he has ten times the fighting ability compared to hanseo. she would stomp back to her studio, something wild spreading across her mannerisms - utterly confusing any other resident around.

in all honesty, she's never been one for hospitals. but she makes hanseo food everyday. she doesn't trust whatever they give patients in hospitals anyway, and she knows that she has a few cooking tricks up her sleeve. they never really see each other, and she has always asked another resident to take the food to him. (a different one every time. she doesn't really know how she'd respond if anyone ever questioned her actions, especially when she's not completely sure why she's doing what she's doing either ... ) it takes a couple of days, but she slowly moves to his rhythm. taking notice of the foods that he likes, the ones that he didn't. now stopping outside of his hospital room to peer through the little window, elated at the look of sheer happiness that spreads across his puppy-dog features every time he sees a visitor with an entourage of containers for him. (maybe this is where his pet. name came from). even as things become a bit more normal, and he finds himself over in the plaza more often, the two would continue to peak glances at each other. her, wanting to see him smile like that again. him, mildly hurt that the only girl who had been playing on his mind for months had not gone to see him in the hospital. it's only after he finally asks her, and she abruptly poses whether he would like to study with her every night, does one of the other residents let miri's daily cooking habits slip.

she notices the distinct shift in his behaviour towards her, but he won't ever discuss the new nugget of knowledge till years later, and she'll get flushed and embarrassed at the fact that he's known all this time.

anyways, it takes a year and a half of talking twice a week to crack down on the deepest fears that hanseo has held onto for so long. all the residents know when it's happened bc they see the visible change. he's similar to how he's always been, but it seems like there's something lighter about him. like there's something that has been finally put to rest; the man looks like he has found a little bit of the peace that he deserves, at very last. when he visits the plaza, he's gotten rid of the stiff suits in dark colours. this rigid business attire had been his method of camouflaging into a wall of corporate faces - maybe his brother would aim a sharp object at the wrong person, one of those that he had cloned himself into looking like around him. it worked on some occasions. but this experience had taught him that these clothing decisions had become survival for him, and that was surely not a sustainable way to continue living. so most residents would stop to flick their eyes over the young man as he passes. his simple caramel turtleneck and blazer combo seeming too settled in the middle of the two extremes that the male usually fell in between.

rumour has it, the man literally dipped the apple to his eye, the woman who had waited for him to get healthy for a year and a half, the only sun he sees, nearly off of her feet when he steals their first kiss. they'd waited this long for it to occur, they may as well make it magical.

( are these crumbs okay?? hes not dead!! nope, that was false!! that never happened!!)

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uponrightful · 3 years

Note

"You aren’t alone. He thought, feeling the girl’s deep breaths rising and falling under his chest. Her head turned away from the glaring sunlight, unknowingly resting her forehead against his chest where she could find shadows. Small hands slid out from under the blankets, pulling them high over her shoulders before finding a more comfortable spot flat against his stomach." I would love to know what they were both thinking here when they woke up together <3 Such a sweet moment!

Commentary Track for Welcome Company

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I'll give my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character's- when I wrote it!

*Send one in here*

Hi there anon! ☺️ This is the first request for Welcome Company, and I'm squealing at the opportunity to talk about Wolffe again!!! He's such a sweetheart, and I hate not giving him the love he deserves! 🤍🤍 🐺

***

Let's start out with our beloved Commander Wolffe, shall we?

Wolffe's first reaction is to jump out of the bed. Put as much distance between them as possible and find his bucket so he can shove it over his face. Desperation to hide his appearance.

The Commander knows that his face draws attention, and it's not always the good kind. It scares shinies into staying in line, and gives him respect amongst other clone leadership. But Wolffe isn't at drill, nor is he on a battle field. He's in the home of a woman who's made a career out of hiding behind corners and being a silent presence in her own home. Wolffe's afraid of scaring her, worried she'll think there's something wrong with him, terrified that something about him isn't worth catering to in such a caring way. He knows what it's like to be thought of as defective, and how little he means to the Republic as a whole... Had it not been for Master Plo's love for him, a decommissioning would've been the last note on his career register.

Note: I've never seen Wolffe in the "feral" way most do. He might be snarky, and a little grumpy, but that's because of his unique experience with 'failure'. He's seen death, and failure seems to follow him in many ways. I've always thought Wolffe would see his scar as a reminder of failure to others, and a reflection of his ineffective leadership. When I delved into his character, I wanted to make him less "dominant" and a little more "glass-half-empty". Not only does it fit his past experiences, but it makes him a lot more complex than simply tossing him into the "he's mean and likes to fuck hard" vibe.

The moment Wolffe actually realizes that he's not just laying with her, but touching her... It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience that he's too bewildered to get the full enjoyment of. In the back of his mind he knows she'd been the one to make this move, but he still feels responsible for not keeping his hands to himself. I mean, kriff... He's a Commander in the GAR. Saying the night was enough to have him executed by firing squad as it was, let alone finding her sharing this bed with him.

He's never seen anyone look this relaxed around him... trusting that his presence isn't harmful or scary. Wolffe had tried to pull himself away out of respect, but she's still searching him out, despite being asleep. Her fingers wrapped in his shirt and the soft heat radiating off her is already becoming an addictive feeling Wolffe didn't know he could develop, and he's trying his best to be respectful, but not cold towards her. After all, he'd went to sleep alone; So there had to be a reason she'd joined him. That's when it clicks; The reason he's slept so good... why he didn't feel like he'd been tossed from a gunship without a jetpack. It's because this girl had soothed the constant funnel of nightmares and fears that interrupted his sleep.

Note: I wanted Wolffe to experience his first moment of intimate uncertainty. He's had hook-ups, but nothing romantic. This is part of his nature. Sex is one thing; A release, either by his own doing or with the willing assistance of someone else. But intimacy; It's something Wolffe considers for civilians, and not something he can partake in. As a character, I think his moral compass runs the straight and narrow. He doesn't take relationships lightly, and in this moment, he's being challenged as to how to navigate something he's thought only happens to civilians. It's cute, and seeing Wolffe flustered like this wasn't just fun to create, it's just how his disposition would have saw fit to respond.

When she looks at him, Wolffe is internally panicking. This is when he's certain she'll wince in disgust or scream at him to leave. That panic freezes him though, and it's this reaction that forces the Commander to realize that she's nothing short of curious. No judgment, no unwanted sympathy, not a hint of disgust. Wolffe's never thought of himself as particularly good-looking, and considering there were millions like him, that didn't bode well for someone finding him in particular worth this kind of attention. She's soothing him, and whether he's willing to admit it or not, Wolffe is preening under her soft touches despite not understanding why he likes it so much.

Pup is very pretty and the Commander is trying to figure out how to keep her attention, but not scare her off. He's trying not to stumble over his words, but he can't get her voice out of his mind. Wolffe hadn't spent a day since his first visit wondering what this girl looked like, sounded like... Literally everything. He wants to know exactly what kind of woman would spend her time catering to the likes of clones. He thinks of her as this kind of deity most of the time, and interacting with her makes the dreams all the more real now that he's seen her, and she's even more beautiful that her ever could've pictured.

Note: Wolffe is really experiencing old-fashioned "love at first sight". I know it's simple, but that's just how a relationship with Wolffe would come about. He's a simple man when it comes to love, even though he doesn't realize it. Wolffe only falls in love once, and he's going to know right away. The time spent getting to know her though the little interactions behind walls, his admiration/thankfulness for what she does... It shows her character, and although Wolffe isn't one to get hung-up on someone's appearance (this excludes his own) he's instantly attracted to her. I wanted him to have the "high-school hard-on" experience as well. It's amusing, but really he's never been exposed to someone he finds attractive like this. And it's a startling experience because Wolffe isn't easily distracted with more... carnal desires.

Wolffe senses that there's something different about her right away, and with every minute after this, he's just realizing that she's special. He's always a little hesitant that she's not going to feel that little connection, but it never goes away and Pup just keeps coming back to him.

Now let's get to Pup;

The first thing she does is try to keep the Commander from bolting out of the house. She knows the stories from his brothers, and this isn't the way she wanted to meet him. Her shyness is a huge complication, but she assumes Wolffe isn't too upset with her considering he'd not ran out the second he woke up. Her affection isn't really purposeful, and for the most part she doesn't really even realize she's doing it. But Wolffe is warm, and there's something about him that isn't terrifying her.

That first good look at his face is one she'll never forget. Those little sneaking glimpses of him gave her a good idea of what Wolffe looked like, but that was nothing like seeing him up this close. She's never seen cybernetics before, and although it's rude to stare, Pup can't help but think Wolffe looks absolutely beautiful. High cheekbones, full lips, a mess of curls on his head... He looks relaxed; A seasoned soldier, but relaxed nonetheless. And for Pup, seeing him look happy is a massive accomplishment. (Her own embarrassment for falling asleep with him aside.)

Note: Pup is extremely shy when the least bit embarrassed. That being said, her level of patience and the feeling of security she gives others was a purposeful choice. I wanted Wolffe to have someone soft. She's not weak by any means, but she just a wonderfully soothing person to be around. And Wolffe would really take to a person like that. I thought someone who could support him emotionally by understanding his hesitance would be an extremely interesting dynamic. But also really heartwarming to see.

Wolffe is so very kind and Pup is wonderfully captured by it. Such an intimidating man suddenly nervous to speak to someone such as herself... It's endearing, and that's gives her a confidence she'd otherwise have not possessed when talking to him. Pup makes sure she tells him this wasn't all her own doing, out of attempt to provide some reassurance that his personal space wasn't totally infringed upon, but when she chose to show him those little bruises, she'd not expected to see how upset he looked over that.

It wasn't the first time her late-night nightmare soothes had ended in a few little purple marks, but Wolffe looked almost distraught at the sight. Like he'd intentionally hurt her, instead of it being the accident of his upset that had been the cause. Pup wore them like badges of honor, and it was a little cute to see such a warrior silently fussing at himself for simply demanding attention from someone when he needed it most. At this point, her touch was meant to help soothe the Commander out of his self-punishing attitude and ease those deep wrinkles off his forehead. To her great pleasure, it worked like a charm. A commanding officer couldn't have ordered Wolffe to soften up any quicker than she'd managed to do it with a couple little rubs. It was the first time Pup didn't have the slightest inclination to move away, far too happy to see anything she did being so happily accepted.

Note: Wolffe and Pup had to have this moment. I couldn't picture them meeting any other way in a believable sense, and I'm just so happy that it worked out as well as it did. I wanted the softness, and the slight awkwardness, all while providing some soft touches and slightly teasing communication to make it memorable. They're two very different people, sharing an unusual situation that begins to shed light on a deeper connection. Wolffe is all about his buisness, and to an extent so is Pup. They work for the benefit of others, and when they meet each other, it's the first time they're presented with the opportunity to take time and do something for themselves. Love is just as much a personal decision as it is to be shared. Therefore, giving them this quiet introduction is a wonderful state of weakness and mutual amusement for that to be initially explored.

***

Thank you for requesting anon! 🤍 I hope this was to your liking! I could go on..😅 But I didn't want to overwhelm you with it. *cue my nervous laughter*

#welcome company #commander wolffe #pup #uponrightful #uponrightfulwrites #commentary track

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cobaltusami · 3 years

Text

That's what Friends are for

Hello! This Is my first Danganronpa tickle story, It's very long I'm sorry! I got a little carried away eh heh heh... It sits at 3521 words, And that's AFTER trimming It down, For future fics I will try not to ramble on as much! Anyways hope you enjoy!

Main characters: Kazuichi, Gundham, Sonia

---

It had been unusually peaceful that day, Everyone seemed to be getting along well... Much to Usami’s delight.

But Hajime knew that wasn’t going to last much longer. Normally when something was going well, Something chaotic would happen and today was no different.

It was the middle of the day, And Usami had thought It to be a good Idea for everyone to hang out at the beach. The students decided to make It a party, And that’s when the chaos started.

A group of students had gone to the supermarket to get decorations and everything they would need for the party, While another group waited at the beach to decorate.

Mostly the boys had been lumped Into bringing the stuff back, Mahiru mentioned something about them being stronger. Once that had been done they were free to relax.

Hajime was sitting by the ocean waves next to Nagito In near silence, He tried to relax but he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. He tried to distract himself by turning and looking at all his classmates having fun.

Nekomaru and Akane were “Play fighting” as they claimed, Though with how intense their spar could get, He wasn’t sure It counted as play fighting.

Kazuichi was rigging up some kind of Firework display per the request of literally all the girls.

Ibuki was setting up a sound system for music with the help of Chiaki.

Peko and Fuyuhiko were stringing up lights and Mahiru, Hiyoko and Mikan were making floral decorations and Lei’s.

Sonia was tying ribbons to the tables and placing other decorations along the beach.

And Gundham was well.. Being Gundham. He was In a spot further away from everyone else, and also further from the water. He seemed to have taken to playing In the sand, His hamsters gathered around the sand sculpture he was crafting.

Sonia decided to take a small break from decorating to approach the isolated student, Wanting to make sure he was included In the group rather than avoiding them.

“Gundham, What are you making?” Sonia asked as she sat down across from him.

The self proclaimed ‘Dark Prince’ glanced up at the Princess, Meeting her curious gaze. “I am recreating my Four Dark Devas of Destructions’ home, The Imperial Hell Palace!”

Sonia blinked as she processed what he said. “Oh, You are making a sand castle?” She smiled. “It looks wonderful so far, It will be a nice additional decoration for the party!”

“I-It Is not a mere decoration! It Is to serve as a nightmarish reminder of--”

He was cut off by a soft giggle, And stopped talking when he saw the Four dark devas of destruction crawling Into Sonia’s lap. She picked them up In her hands carefully and snuggled them affectionately. “They are so sweet and friendly! You have raised them well.” She smiled kindly at the Ultimate Breeder.

His face went red as he looked away, Pulling his scarf up to hide his blush. “You… You truly think so…?” He asked quietly. “Th-Thank you, Princess…”

“Hey hey hey, What the hell’s going on over there?!” Kazuichi asked suddenly, Startling Hajime.

“Uh, By the looks of It, I’m guessing Sonia complimented his hamsters again?” Hajime suggested, Recalling his reaction the first time she complimented them.

“He better not be making any moves on Miss Sonia! I called dibs!” He complained childishly.

“I don’t think you can call dibs on a Person, Kazuichi.” Nagito spoke up, Smiling in vexation.

“Yeah, Especially when that person doesn’t like you back.” Hiyoko chimed In, Snickering at the glare sent her way.

“If It bothers you so bad to be left out, Why don’t you just go join In?” Mahiru suggested. “Go build sandcastles with them.”

Kazuichi looked at her, Exasperated. “You aren’t possibly suggesting I go be friendly with my rival, Are you!?”

Mahiru shrugged. “Why not?”

“W-Why not!?”

“L-L-Look at I-It this way…” Mikan stammered. “I-If Sonia were t-to s-s-see you ge-getting along with him… Sh-Sh-She might like you m-m-more!”

“That’s a stupid Idea, Don’t listen to this pig barf!”

“Actually, It makes sense If you think about It.” Mahiru agreed with Mikan’s sentiment. “If you make an effort to be friends with Gundham, Sonia might be impressed.”

Hajime exchanged glances with Nagito, Who sighed quietly. Both silently saying the same thing; That’s not going to work.

“Y-You really think so?” Kazuichi asked warily, Glancing back over the two. Sonia was now helping Gundham make his ‘sand palace’. They seemed to be having fun, The Blonde giggling happily as she worked on making a mote.

“I’m sure of It.”

“Or, You could be a man and tell him to back off.” Hiyoko suggested. “If that doesn’t work, Maybe you could embarrass him and make him look like a total loser In front of her. You should know what those look like.”

“H-Hiyoko! Don’t give him any ideas!” Hajime cut In, But his words fell upon deaf ears.

“How do I even get her away from him so I can try to ‘befriend’ him?”

Mahiru hummed In thought for a moment. “I got It!” She walked back over to where the flowers were and picked up some of the decorations carefully In her hands. “Hey Sonia? I’ve got some of the decorations done!” She called out.

Sonia jumped a bit. “O-Oh my! I forgot entirely about the decorations!” She gasped out In surprise, Giving Gundham an apologetic look. “I am so sorry, I will be back!”

“It Is alright, Princess. Go tend to your Embellishing duties, The Imperial Hell Palace will be here once you return.” He played It cool and acted as though he wasn’t disappointed- Though he definitely was.

Sonia carefully put the hamsters down and stood up, Giving a small bow and stride gracefully over to Mahiru to discuss the decorations.

Kazuichi made his move, Casually walking over to the Ultimate Breeder, who seemed a bit more downcast than usual. “Hey Gundham, Whatcha making?” He asked while feigning interest, Crouching down next to the solemn student.

The Supreme Ice Overlord was taken aback at first, Why would he all of a sudden approach him? Kazuichi doesn’t seem too fond of him… Oh… Ohh. His face had initially seemed to perk up a bit at the prospect of someone joining In, But he immediately became annoyed once he connected the dots.

“Foolish mortal,” He grumbled. “Do you take me for a fool? I know what you are up to.” He narrowed his eyes at the Pinkette.

Kazuichi flinched. “W-What are you talking about man? I just wanted to see what you were doing.”

“You are merely over here to assert to me that you have claimed Sonia, Are you not?”

“N-No! Of course not! I thought It looked like you guys were having fun so I wanted to ask If i could join in.”

Gundham gave one more piercing glare before turning back to his sandcastle. “Why must you constantly chase after her, Fiend? You seem to have dedicated your existence to fawning over her.” He asked In annoyance, Unable to even look at him.

“I-I don’t!”

Gundham didn’t have many friends, In fact, Growing up he didn’t have any. Most people write him off as weird or scary and avoid him. Having someone try to pretend to be friendly with him, Was only reminding him of how few people actually care about him, thus making him irritable.

“Why?” He mumbled under his scarf. “Why must you try to chase her off? Is It really that intolerable to you for her to wish to speak to someone such as me?”

Kazuichi stammered, Taken aback by this unexpected response from the Dark Prince. He was actually starting to feel bad about his actions until…

“Foolish Mortal! I shall not let you take her away!” Gundham declared, Locking eyes with the Ultimate Mechanic.

Sonia was one of the only people not put off by the way he acts and speaks, And seemed to genuinely care about him as evident by trying to include him every chance she got. Of course, He didn’t have romantic feelings for her, Per se, He just longed for a sense of belonging.

He just wanted someone to call a friend.

Kazuichi’s face got red with anger. “I knew It! You really do like her!”

“Of course I do, Fiend! How can one not?” He shot back, Oblivious to what Soda actually meant by ‘like'.

“L-Listen here! You better stay away from her! She’s mine dammit!” He threw any attempts at getting along out the window and instead took Hiyoko’s advice.

Much to Hajime’s dismay. He watched on in silent horror.

“Fool! You cannot lay claim to someone who does not return your affections!” The Ultimate Breeder fired back. “You cannot control one such as her!”

“But I can control you… Stay away from her- Or else!”

“Fuahahaha!” Gundham burst out laughing bitterly at this threat. “That truly Is amusing, You think you can order me around!? You pathetic human! I am the great GUNDHAM TANAKA! What could you possibly do to stop me?”

That was the boiling point, Kazuichi lunged at Gundham and the two went rolling around on the beach. Soda had some decent muscle built up from all the work he does on machinery, So he expected to have an easy upper hand against Tanaka.

However, The Great Gundham Tanaka was also much stronger than he looked, Of course he’d have to be with the wide variety of animals he cares for.

Neither one of them were giving up without a fight, And both struggled to obtain the upper hand as they wrestled around.

The commotion they made had garnered the attention of the other beach goers, Most were taken aback, But someone was egging it on.

“God, Kazuichi! How are you struggling this much? Even I could win this fight.” Hyoko called out, Encouraging the Mechanic with her insults… Somehow.

“S-Soda! Tanaka! What the hell are you two doing?!” Nekomaru stammered, Shocked by the sudden fight amongst classmates.

“Should we intervene, Coach Nekomaru?” Akane asked, Both of them were unsure so they waited.

Gundham tried to pin him down to put an end to this ridiculous fight, But Kazuichi grabbed for his shirt to throw him off. In the process of doing said action, His fingers came into contact with Gundham’s sides, Drawing a sharp gasp from him as he went tumbling down beside Soda.

His arms instinctively wrapped around his midsection, Causing Kazuichi to pause. Tanaka slowly scooted away from him, Watching him cautiously as though he were a wild animal.

“What the…” Soda slowly sat up, Watching him with intense interest.

“F-Foolish mortal… Do not give me that look!” He tried to regain his previous composure.

A sharp, Toothy grin plastered Itself onto the Ultimate Mechanic’s face as he dangerously pursued the Dark Prince. “Whatsa matter? You look a little flustered there, Gundham~” His words were laced with Mischievous intent.

“Stay back!” He intended It to come out as a command, Or a threat, But It came out as panicked. Gundham could recognize the almost predatory look In Kazuichi’s eyes, And unlike with Animals, He had no way to diffuse the situation.

Before Tanaka could scramble to his feet and retreat like he intended, Soda grabbed his ankle and pulled him back towards him. “Ohhh no you don’t.” He grinned, settling himself on his hips. “It’s not like you to get scared… Could It be because you’re… Ticklish?”

Gundham, Who had previously been struggling, went eerily still. Almost as If hoping that If he didn’t move, Kazuichi wouldn’t do anything. For a moment Kazuichi could see the panic in his eyes.

Gundham glanced over to the rest of the beach, So many people were staring at them. Most likely trying to figure out If they should intervene and pull Kazuichi off or not.

All those eyes on him was making him even more uncomfortable, He had to do something to gain back a semblance of control.

He looked back up at Kazuichi, His coldness returning to him. “Mortal, If you do not get off of me In the next-- ACK!”

Or not.

Kazuichi grinned as he dug his fingers into his sides. “I’m sorry, What was that?”

Gundham tried not to react, But due to being touch starved and having no resistance to something like tickling, He was giggling within seconds. He pulled his scarf over his face to hide his reactions and muffle any embarrassing sounds he might make.

“Looks like you’re not so tough when you’re a giggling mess.” Soda teased, He noticed that his shirt rode up a bit during the last struggle and opted to dance his fingertips all across the exposed skin of his stomach.

This drew laughter from the normally stoic Ultimate, His laughter- What Soda could hear of it- Sounded different from his usual laughter. It was still deep but not quite as deep. It was also breathy and rich, The gasps between laughs he took indicated that Gundham wasn’t used to laughing.

"What’s the matter? Does the Great Gundham Tanaka really have nothing to say?” Yes, Kazuichi was quite enjoying himself right now. He liked how big bad Gundham Tanaka was reduced to a quivering pile of laughter by a simple touch. It was amusing. “Looks like I finally found your weakness.” He chuckled.

“St-Stohohop this at once!” He managed a feeble command between laughs.

What Is this feeling? He was utterly embarrassed being tickled In front of his entire class, but yet… It wasn’t unbearable. Even the feeling of his calloused fingertips slowly spidering up and down his sides right now, It tickled like hell but It still wasn’t… Unpleasant?

Gundham’s laughter shot up In volume once Kazuichi reached his ribs, He took advantage of this sensitive spot and honed in on it. “Aww, Does the Supreme overlord of... whatever, have ticklish ribs?” He cooed teasingly, Discovering that lighter touches seemed to be more effective.

The Ultimate Breeder found he was having more trouble breathing now with his scarf In his face, But he didn’t want people to see his face.

Kazuichi, Noticing how frequent the gasps for air had become, Slowed down significantly. “You might wanna move that scarf, You might suffocate yourself.” He laughed a little, But this was a genuine fear of his.

Gundham shook his head defiantly, Giggles still pouring past his lips. He’d rather suffocate than have everyone see him blushing and laughing like a fool.

The Mechanic reached with one hand for the offending article, But The black and gray haired student held on tightly to it. “Fine, I guess we’ll do this the hard way.”

He brought the hand that was still tickling him up, His fingers snaking their way into his underarm and began tickling him without mercy.

This drew a scream from the pale student, His back arching as if revolting against the sensations. He immediately brought his arm down In an attempt to protect the sensitive area.

This allowed Kazuichi to grab hold of the purple scarf and rip it away from the gasping and laughing ultimate beneath him. “Aha! Got It!” He gloated, Tossing the piece of clothing out of Gundham’s reach.

Now Kazuichi was free to tickle as much as he wanted without fear of Tanaka smothering himself.

Although now he needed to worry about making him pass out from laughing too hard. “What do you say, Gundham? Are you going to admit defeat?” He asked teasingly as he danced his fingers up and down his ribcage.

He shook his head defiantly, Bringing his hands up to cover his face. “N-NEVER FIEHEHEHEND! AHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Yeah, It’s just as I thought. You’re just having toooo much fun to give up.” He cooed as he slowed down to give Gundham a chance to breathe a little. “You’re lucky I don’t know how to undo your boots, You’d really be In for It!”

“When Ihihihihi get freehehehe you’re dehehehead!” He giggled hysterically behind his hands, His face reddening even more-- If that was even possible.

He knew that Kazuichi was just trying to fluster him with his words but… Huh. Was he having fun? Wh-- NO! Don’t be ridiculous! Why did that thought even cross his mind?! He’s GUNDHAM TANAKA, He doesn’t find joy In such childish things!

“Oh yeah? Well good luck.” Soda scoffed. “Because all I have to do to stop you Is tickle you… HERE!”

He suddenly shoved his wiggling fingers back under his arms, drawing another scream from Gundham. This one wasn’t muffled because he shot his arms down the instant he felt the ticklish sensation.

“NOO! AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!” Gundham threw his head back with loud laughter, His back arched as he kicked his legs In a feeble attempt to get free. He grabbed for Kazuichi’s wrists but he couldn’t muster enough strength to throw him off.

“You’re like, MEGA ticklish here!” Kazuichi laughed along with him, Finding his laughter to be somewhat contagious.

Sonia, Who hadn’t heard the previous commotion, Was startled by the sound of Gundham’s scream, She set down the floral arrangement she held in her hands and whipped around looking for the source of the sound. “G-Gundham?” Her eyes scanned the beach until… She saw It.

She gasped softly, Covering her mouth in surprise. “Oh my! Is he okay??” She was worriedly making her way over to the two but then she realized, He was… Laughing. Sonia took a closer look at them. “Is he… Tickling him?” She asked curiously.

“Yeah, Definitely looks that way.” Nagito sighed, Shaking his head. Though he couldn’t help but smile at the two’s antics.

Sonia giggled in delight. “That Is adorable! I never knew Gundham was ticklish.”

“I don’t think Kazuichi knew either.” Hajime whispered, Receiving an elbow to the ribs from Nagito. He recoiled quickly drawing an interested gaze from the Ultimate Lucky student.

“What? Don’t have any more threats for me?” The pink haired student grinned as he watched the pale man shake his head In response as loud laughter continued to flow freely from his mouth.

“Kazuichi, He needs to breathe!” The Mechanic quickly looked up to see Sonia approaching them. He withdrew his hands, Relenting his attack.

“M-Miss Sonia!” Soda stammered In surprise, Moving off of his winded classmate sheepishly.

Sonia knelt down next to Gundham and put her hands on his shoulders, Gently helping him sit up. Her blue eyes looked to Soda.

He was expecting her to be angry with him, But she looked amused. “It makes me happy to see you two getting along.” She beamed. “You guys looked like you were having so much fun.”

Kazuichi untensed as he realized she wasn’t angry. He and Gundham both exchanged glances. “Yeah, I guess we did have fun.” He laughed happily, Blushing and Folding his arms behind his head.

Gundham’s face flushed again as he looked away from both of them. “Hmph, Speak for yourself, Mortal! No part of that was--”

He was interrupted by Sonia lightly wiggling her fingers against his neck, Drawing a very uncharacteristic squeal from the Supreme overlord of ice. “P-Princess!” He gasped out, Quickly bringing his hands up to shoo hers away.

Sonia giggled as he fixed her with a look of betrayal. “Come on now, Gundham. Surely you cannot deny you were having fun.” She smiled.

“Yeah, You probably could’ve shoved me off If you really wanted to.” Kazuichi smirked.

“I-I did not enjoy any of that cursed activity.” He blushed, Looking down as he folded his arms stubbornly.

“Hey Sonia, Maybe we should tickle him until he admits It?”

For the second time today, He froze up. He quickly looked to the Ultimate Princess to gauge her reaction. Of course, She had a similar predatory glimmer to her eyes as Soda had earlier.

“Hmm.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe~”

“W-Wait.”

“NAGITO STAHAHAP!” Hajime’s sudden laughter drew attention away from the panicking Gundham, Who took this opportunity to grab his scarf and sneak back over to the Sand castle to reclaim his four dark devas of destruction.

It was quite an amusing sight though to be fair, Nagito was currently wrecking Hajime with tickles much to everyone’s amusement.

Gundham hesitantly returned to the two, Though on high alert for any sudden movements. He felt better now that he had his scarf back on and his Devas with him.

He did have fun, Somehow, Of course he wasn’t about to admit this.

“Oh hey, Your sand castle fell apart.” Kazuichi pointed out.

“It Is alright. We’ll help him make a new one!” Sonia smiled.

“I crafted It once, I can craft It again. I do not need assistance.” Gundham’s attempt at pushing her away however, Didn’t work. Not for the reason he was half expecting though.

“Nonsense! If we help you, You’ll be done In time for the party to start.” Kazuichi intervened.

Sonia nodded with a delighted smile. “He Is right. After all, That Is what friends are for, Is it not?”

Friends…?

“Yeah, What she said.” Soda agreed.

Hmph.

“Friends?” Gundham closed his eyes and smirked a little. “That’s a nice line.”

#tickle story #sdr2 #goodbye despair #dangonronpa tickle #Kazuichi soda #Sonia Nevermind #Gundham Tanaka #Lee!Gundham #Ler!Kazuichi #tickling #ticklish #I'm so tired #This took so many hours #I have never once been an overwriter in my life

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

American Dream

Genre: angst with a happy ending/fluff

Pairing: romantic Dukexiety

World: just-out-of-high-school AU

Content: homophobia, threatened abuse from parents (no actual violence), extreme cold, getting kicked out, minor religious talk, getting outed, AIDS and death mention, fluffy Dukexiety because my heart needs it.

Word count: 2.3k

Comments: She doesn’t have Tumblr, but I need to give a shout out to my kiddo for proof reading and beta-ing most of my fics. She pushes me to write more, and even if she won’t see this, I just need to say it.

This fic is inspired by the song American Dream by MKTO.

Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up…

The night coolness spread through Virgil like a sickness. It was unforgiving, toxic, seeped with the memories of the evening that curled through his stomach in dark tendrils. Below his bare feet, the sidewalk burned in the way that only ice does, small pebbles digging into his soles. He would do anything for socks. God, why hadn’t he grabbed socks?

Probably for the same reason he hadn’t grabbed shoes.

Please pick up, please pick up, c’mon, pick up already!

His eyes hurt. They already burned with unshed tears that he’d still been too scared to release, and the cool air didn’t help. Crying on the street was a vulnerability he wasn’t ready to face. His lungs burned. He’d been sprinting non-stop for who knows how long. His own panicked gulps for air and the all-too-loud hum of a blinking streetlight were the only sound on the silent street. Virgil had been watching the moths swarm at the fixture for who knows how long, finding odd solace in the fact that at least there was still some life in the darkness. They were still alive, untouched, same as they were yesterday and probably the same as they would be tomorrow, unfazed by the complete turmoil his life had become. And that was somewhat comforting.

“Virgie, you okay? It’s almost midnight!”

Thank fucking god. He opened his mouth to speak, to explain to Remus what had happened. Obviously, Remus would care. That wasn’t a doubt in his mind; that was the only reason he wasn’t anxious as all fuck right now… about the call, that is. He was anxious about approximately everything else. But as soon as the first noise made its way past his lips, the first utterance of a plea for help, everything that he’d been holding back burst forth like a broken dam. He clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the loud sobbing that he suddenly couldn’t contain.

“Shit. Virgil, what happened? I’m coming over. Are you at home?”

That’s the issue. “No,” he gasped, mildly surprised he hadn’t crushed the phone with the way his grip tightened, “I got kicked out.”

“What the fuck?!”

Virgil flinched. “Can… can you come p-pick me up? I’m at the corner of Jackson and Pullard. Please, please, come get me…”

“Yes. Absolutely. I’m on my way. Stay there, okay?”

Virgil hung up reluctantly after agreeing, not wanting his boyfriend to drive while on the phone, even if Remus gladly would have done it. In fact, he’d used to do it all the time; text, eat, do his makeup, all while cruising down the freeway. He’d only put a stop to it when he saw how much it affected Virgil.

He counted down the minutes on his phone, always having been nitpicky with times, knowing that it shouldn’t take Remus more than ten minutes to get there. If he remembered correctly where he was at the moment, that is. Remus had gotten kicked out of his parents’ house in his senior year of high school after a bad fight. They’d never really been great parents, always showing favoritism towards his brother (amongst other things), and he was more than willing to leave. Virgil had tried to beg his parents to let Remus stay with them, but they’d downright refused, calling him a bad influence and a string of other insults that Virgil didn’t even like to think about. God forbid what would happen if they found out the two were dating.

…Well, they did now. And God hadn’t exactly forbidden what they’d done.

But Remus hadn’t had a solid place to live since it had happened almost a year ago. He couch surfed for a while, bouncing between some old friends who had now gone off to college, or just lived in his car. He’d made it work, and had claimed to Virgil that he actually didn’t mind it that much. If he was telling the truth, Virgil wasn’t sure. He’d saved up some money and bought an inflatable mattress that filled up his back seat area, and Virgil was able to give him his family’s old camping stove by convincing them they lost it. It’s not like they’d gone camping since he was a kid, anyways. Last he’d checked, Janus was home for break and Remus was staying with him for the two weeks he was in town, but those two weeks were probably pretty close to done. Unfortunately, Virgil and Janus had never gotten along, so Remus didn’t bring him up. It was a mutual understanding.

As soon as Remus’ car pulled up to the curb, ten minutes on the dot, Virgil basically flung himself into the passenger seat. The car was warm, so so warm, he almost cried again, this time in relief. Remus pulled back onto the road as soon as he was buckled on.

“Vee, what happened?” It wasn’t hard to guess, there were only so many reasons his parents would have to kick him out. He’d narrowed it down to his parent’s finally having it with Virgil’s tattoo artist dream, or… well…

“Someone at my mom’s work found my Instagram. She went up to my mom, basically started gushing about ‘how handsome I was with my boyfriend’. Specifically the picture of us at Pride from a couple years ago.”

“Ah.” Remus knew the picture well. He’d printed it out and it was pinned to the inside of his sun visor.

“Yeah. Mom called my dad, they were both waiting when I got home. Had screenshots and everything. They grilled me about ‘dishonoring God’ and ‘throwing away my life’. Said I was gonna get AIDS. Die before twenty five. Ya know. The whole lecture.”

Remus didn’t. Surprisingly, him being gay was not a concern of his parent’s. His brother was gay too, and they didn’t give a rat’s ass about that. He nodded along anyways.

“They went on for so long. It was insane. Then they dropped the whole ‘you’re not our son’ thing-” Virgil’s voice cracked, but he swallowed around the lump in his throat and continued, “I figured this is where it was leading to, them kicking me out? I thought they’d give me time to pack, though. Except my dad started getting physical-”

“HE WHAT?!” Remus was tempted to turn the fucking car around and drive to Virgil’s house, just to give his parents a piece of his mind. He was fuming; fuck, he hadn’t been this mad in a while.

“Relax, Rem. I got out before he could actually land a hit. That’s why I don’t have anything with me. I had to run.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know.” Virgil pulled his feet up onto the seat cross legged, trying to rub some feeling back into them. Luckily, they weren’t bleeding, just cold as hell. That was one less thing to worry about. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course, Vi,” Remus’ voice had taken on a softer edge that he rarely allowed anyone to see, and he reached over to take one of Virgil’s hands into his own, “Speaking of which, why were you on Jackson? That’s, what, three miles away from your house?”

“When I say I ran, I mean literally. I was scared they would follow me.” Virgil shrugged, as if the statement wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing Remus had ever heard. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, I just ran. That’s why it took me so long to realize I should call you.”

Remus sighed, letting his thumb run against Virgil’s knuckles. “You don’t have to act all brave, Vi.”

“I don’t think I ever saw you cry when you got kicked out.”

“That’s because I didn’t love my parents. I honestly didn’t. I know your parents mean a lot to you. And I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

It was the truth, but he honestly didn’t want to think about it right now. What kind of loving family kicks out their child? Virgil took a shaky breath in and mumbled, “Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Okay. Let’s talk about something else. What’s our plan?”

Virgil was quiet for a long moment, as if deep in thought. He watched the scenery fade from his suburban area of town to the darker, rural parts of the town’s edge, not knowing or caring where they were driving. The escape from street lights was nice. “Why do we need a plan?”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up at the sudden playful tone in Virgil’s words. “Oh?”

“I mean, is anything really holding us here?”

“My, my,” Remus crooned, pulling into an empty lot and parking in the furthest spot from the street, “I thought I was the impulsive one.”

“I’m serious, Rem!” Virgil laughed, swatting lightly at Remus’ hand. The happy sound was like music to his ears. “I’m dead serious! What’s keeping us here?”

“Patton? Logan?”

“Both across the country. And you know they’re considering staying there when they graduate.” Janus’ name was an understood thing. They both knew his school was barely an hour from the other two. Even if Virgil couldn’t stand the guy, he knew that Remus and Janus went far back. Judging by Remus’ slowly brightening expression, he could assume that Janus would probably be down to stay there as well.

“Work?”

“I work at Walmart. They won’t miss me. Try again.”

Remus scrunched his eyebrows almost thoughtfully, even though this was maybe the easiest decision he’d ever had to make. Plus, they both knew Remus didn’t really ‘think’ in general. “It almost sounds like you want to take a roadtrip, my little emo.”

Virgil scrunched his nose at the nickname, but let a wider smile spread across his tear stained cheeks. “I kind of do.”

Remus shut the car off, turning to his boyfriend with a shit eating grin. “I like this new side of you.”

“Well…” Virgil’s voice turned sheepish under the almost cheshire cat level expression, “Should we?”

“Let’s make up our minds tomorrow.” Remus stated, gesturing to the mattress behind him, “Sleep for tonight. You must be exhausted, coming up with ideas like this.”

Virgil grumbled under his breath, something about ‘not being a baby’, but clambered into the backseat after Remus, double checking the locks on the doors as he went. The air mattress was comfier than he thought it would be, and it was only made better when Remus pulled him in like a teddy bear, tugging a blanket over them. They both sighed in contentment, then promptly burst out laughing at the synchronicity.

“Oh my god, what have we become?” Remus gasped, pulling Virgil in closer nonetheless. Virgil snorted in response, looking up to meet Remus’ eyes through a haze of sudden exhaustion and amusement. The laughter died down slowly as they both gave in to their fatigue, finishing the day with a slow kiss that left them both breathless. Virgil fell asleep with plans forming and circulating through his mind, the rest of the evening almost forgotten.

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

His parents were at work, and Virgil knew their kitchen window didn’t lock properly, which was what led to him stuffing everything he could into a black duffel bag while Remus kept watch from his car. He wasn’t too concerned about the parents coming home, but it gave him ample time to look over the map he’d bought from the gas station that morning and plan a route. He didn’t want to admit that his leg was shaking from pure excitement. This idea had been somewhere in the back of his mind for a long time, but he knew Virgil valued his relationship with his family and liked being near them, so he never brought it up. Granted, the situation wasn’t great, but he considered this ‘making the best of it’. A twisted paradise.

He barely flinched as his trunk was thrown open and Virgil threw his bag inside before hopping back into his seat.

“Okay, so how about we drive up to Maine, apparently the sea food is legendary! Then we cut back through Ohio. There’s literally nothing in Ohio, but we can cross it off the list at least! And then-”

Virgil laughed, cutting him off, “I thought we weren’t planning!”

“Well, we need at least a rough idea,” Remus said with a pout, “What we do there and how long we stay, that’s up to impulse. I was thinking we should try to get through all the states, wouldn’t that be cool?”

Virgil could only nod, leaning forward to kiss Remus again. “Sounds amazing,” he murmured, so close they were almost touching. They’d talked to Logan and Patton earlier that morning, and they were equally as excited for the two of them. Remus had called Janus while Virgil was packing, quickly explaining the situation (and also why Remus had disappeared in the middle of the night), and Janus supported it. Made sense, since he was almost as impulsive as Remus. Plus, he was going back to school in a couple days, so it didn’t make much of a difference. That said, they still didn’t have a time limit. Their friends were just starting second semester, meaning they could schedule themselves to arrive in California for summer break, or they could spend longer on the road. But schedules are for chumps.

As they rolled out of the quaint neighborhood Virgil had grown up in, Remus reached down and took his hand again. “Say goodbye to white picket fences.” And god, the joyful expression on Virgil’s face was enough to make him melt.

By the time they hit the freeway, they were both nearly shaking with anticipation. Virgil stuck his hands out the sunroof, the wind whipping through his hair, and let out a whoop that was almost contagious. This was the start of something amazing, they both felt it.

Cali, here we come.

#lywrites #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssides #dukexiety

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onlyplatonicirl · 4 years

Text

Birfday Gorl UwU

@shandycandy278

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

“A little to the left.”

“Like this?”

“A bit more.”

“Uh… here?”

“Slime does that look even a little bit symmetrical to you?”

“You’re literally impossible right now,” said Slime, tacking the banner in place regardless of Lorel’s immediate shrieking complaint. “Since when have you become so nit-picky about decoration placement and stuff? Your room looks like an atomic bomb went off in it.”

“Well good thing it’s not my room!” Lorel replied, clapping her hands together in agitation. She rocked on her heals at a very brisk pace, her eyes darting around the room. “Listen, at least just TRY to set this up right?? Also maybe stand on a chair instead of Andrew’s shoulders because if you fall it will not only kill you but them too.”

Andrew blinked at Lorel like she was stupid, their hands on Slime’s legs as the redhead wobbled to tack everything to the wooden banister, tongue sticking out in concentration. Slime exclaimed triumphantly once they successfully had it in place, throwing their hands back in glee. Unfortunately, that also offset their center of gravity.

Lorel turned her back as both of them shrieked and collapsed to the floor, already tuning out their incessant squabbling. The decorations were all set, for the most part. Light blue balloons were floating around the room, with the tablecloth, streamers, banners and confetti to match. The confetti was assumed to be blue, but they didn’t know for sure because it was compressed into cardboard cones, and planned to pop out when the guest of honor arrived. Various other creators scurried to and fro, adding to the ever-growing gift pile, setting up the potluck and adding a multitude of dishes, as well as making small talk amongst themselves before the event started. Lorel recognized the majority of them, and waved to a few of them as she made her way into the main kitchen, ducking under a tray carried by Nobody, with tons of little confectionaries.

But before she could get there, she ran into-

“Chai! How’s everything going?”

Chai laughed in return, giving Lorel a hug. “It’s going great. I’m so excited.”

“SAME,” Lorel said, accompanied with a slouch. “I’ve ben planning this for so long, especially these things.”

She stuck a thumb behind her, motioning to the massive yellow feathered wings that started at her shoulder blades and draped all the way to the floor, the gradient becoming lighter towards the end feathers. Chai raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I was going to comment on that,” she began. “Those don’t look like your usual, uh… pointy wings.”

“That’s because they aren’t,” Lorel said, running a hand through her hair to clear her eyes. “It took me two full months of studying anatomy and transmogrification with every book on the subject in the entirety of the Council’s Library to get these to form. The number of times I attempted to summon these properly only to result in an explosion of feathers is unreal. Synthia and the others got really tired coming back to find our quarters covered in yellow fluff.”

“Well I like them, they’re soft. But, why exactly???”

Lorel smiled softly. “I don’t know, I just thought it would be kind of sweet because… She always gives the fluffiest and softest hugs. I thought it would be nice if I was able to return the favor for once, to show her how great her trademarked “Floofy Hugs” are. Give her a taste of her own wonderful medicine, haha!”

Chai laughed. “Well, I’D like a floofy hug from you.”

“Once I even figure out how to get these things to fold and move properly? Sure. You can get floofy hugs too,” Lorel replied, smiling. “But we all know that I’m not as good at it.”

“HEY WHY ARE THOSE WINGS SO DISPROPORTIONATELY LARGE?” Someone across the room screamed. Without missing a beat, Lorel whipped around, almost smacking Chai in the face with the limbs she did not quite have the hang of yet.

“I DON’T KNOW, WHY IS YOUR BRAIN SO DISPROPORTIONATELY SMALL, LO??”

“HOW BAD CAN IT BE, LOREL?”

“IT’LL GET PRETTY BAD PRETTY QUICK IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE.”

Chai was busy trying not to laugh herself into combustion, a hand over her mouth. Lorel looked at her, exasperated. “Excuse me for one moment. I need to go check up on the cake. If I stand still for long enough Lo starts trying to play paper-wad basketball with my halos.”

She and Chai gave each other a quick hug, before parting ways with “I love you!!!”’s on both sides.

Peeping her head in through the kitchen doorway, Lorel narrowly avoided a massive jawbreaker being flung across the room. Ly had been in charge of the cake, and it seemed to be going well. The ponkey girl was having a blast, a tube of icing in each hand, and letting out her more wild artistic side. Her tail curled happily in the air as she drew gravity defying shapes around the cake out of vanilla frosting. Lorel smiled and left. At least that was taken care of. But there was still a lot of other things to do. There were two many bodies in too small of a room. It was chaos, and she had signed up to oversee it all.

Lorel sighed. Why did she ever agree to running anything? The only mature thing about her was her physical age. Time to be the adult, I guess.

Climbing up a few steps to gain a slight leverage and trying not to trip over her new way-too-large wings, she clapped her hands to quell the silence. She soon had the attention of the room.

“OKAY,” she began. “HERE’S HOW THIS IS GONNA GO BEFORE MY WIFE ARRIVES—”

A single, large breath in.

“Lyn and Lynn, take watch outside for her. Blossom, make sure everyone’s got a party hat, and help Shadow and Template with the paintings if they need any. Lucky and Achro keep the streets secure, we don’t want any blockheads ruining our big day. Dey, Launch, Template, Poggers, Lily, both Alexes, Rawlyx and Zen are on exterior decoration duty. I want every corner of the roof tied with decorations. Ly’s finishing the cake, and she’ll need a handful of people to aid her in setting everything up. Smartie can attend to that, as well as Diamond. Slime and Andrew, I know I’m asking the impossible, but your job is to not be stupid for like - at least 2 minutes. AT LEAST. Everyone else find a good hiding spot and no shoving or pushing or summoning ancient celestial daggers or transforming into a five headed demons. Or you’re getting kicked out of the party. Scrub, be my monitor, would you? And Otter’s job is to keep being absolutely adorable and precious. Are we all clear?”

The whole building cheered, and Lorel finally sighed. Right next to her was Otter, who she promptly scooped up in her arms and kissed on the forehead with a very loud “mwah” to follow. Otter happily closed their eyes – a pseudo-smile.

“OKAY THEN. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ALL STILL STANDING AROUND FOR??? LET’S MOVE IT, LOSERS! GO GO GO GO GO!”

Everyone quickly bustled about, and Lorel set Otter back on the floor once again. Creators of every shape and size scrambled about, trying to find places to hide, and all the lights were shut off when the two Lyn(n)s gave the cue

“She’s coming she’s coming!”

The house went completely silent, save for the sound of footsteps approaching the door.

The handle turned-

And all the light’s clicked on. Everyone jumped up from behind the couch, and light blue confetti flew everywhere as everyone screamed in unison.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHANDY!!!!!!!!!”

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

HAPPY BIRTH SHANDYYYYYYYY ILSYM SORRY I DIDNT FINISH THIS YESTERDAY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

IM GONNA TAG THE MAIN PPL IN THIS FIC BC IM A LITTLE BIT PRESSED FOR TIME RN AND I DONT HAVE TIME TO TAG EVERYONE BUT ILL LINK IT SO AAAAAAA

Mainly Featuring:

@andrewture @156lemongummies @greetings-and-yeetings @chais-chaos-corner @puuuddiing @lookyeekiti

AS WELL AS THE AMAZING @shandycandy278 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ILYSMMM

This fic takes place in @creatorverse

#creatorverse #creatorverse fanfiction #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #IDK WHAT ELSE TO TAG #HAPPY BIRTH #OKAY I GOTTA GO IM SUPER PRESSED FOR TIME FJDSAKFJDKLAF #FLOOFY HUGS YOU BACK

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nanoland · 3 years

Text

mazikeen/eve/michael fic in progress

title: Ponder on the Narrow House

fandom: Lucifer

characters: Mazikeen, Eve, Michael

blurb: In which Mazikeen isn't finished with Michael yet.

warnings: Spoilers for Season 5.

In 2019, Fodor’s had crowned LAX the worst airport on Planet Earth, comparing it – much to Mazikeen’s amusement – to Dante Alighieri’s Hell.

She couldn’t comment on the comparison’s accuracy; she’d never read Divina Comedia. Human poetry bored her.

Up against the real thing, however? Hell was quieter, cleaner, and smelt better than Los Angeles International, and it wasn’t even close.

Granted, Mazikeen was biased. Hell was her home and she liked it quite a lot. But surely even a human – even an angel – would sooner take a stint in one of Lucifer’s loops than spend more than thirty minutes in Terminal 3.

Yet there he was, leaning against the wall, watching the bustling crowd with a faint smile on his face, like a man in the park resting his eyes on the ducks. Perfectly content.

“Do you know,” he said as she approached him, “that around forty percent of all humans are scared of flying?”

She hadn’t been sure how this encounter would go and, being innately practical, had dressed accordingly. Black satin skirt, flattering and loose enough to both conceal several demon daggers (invisible to the full-body scanner she’d just sauntered through) and not impede her reaction time in a fight. Red silk wrap blouse, easily unwrapped to serve as a garrotte or tourniquet. Hair down, curled, dyed pitch black with bronze-gold streaks – possibly a tactical disadvantage if he grabbed it, but possibly a distraction. She knew he liked her hair.

When she was satisfied he wasn’t about to lunge for her throat, she took a gamble and moved in to lean against the wall alongside him, following his gaze. “Not surprising. Think of it from their perspective. They don’t have wings. Actually – huh. I guess that’s a perspective you can sympathise with now.”

He sneered. “You’re trying to bait me, Miss Mazikeen. That’s cute. But I’m not in the mood, dollface. This? This is me time. I’ve had a shitty few days and I came here specifically to soak up these idiot mortals’ fear and chill out. Get lost. Go play with my twin if you’re so starved for entertainment.”

Mazikeen stretched. “That’s the problem. He’s hanging out with the rest of your lousy family. Gabriel. Raziel. Jophiel. Now that he’s in charge, they’re all trying to crawl up his ass. It’s pathetic. And annoying.”

His jaw clenched and she knew exactly what he was thinking: ‘That should have been me.’

“Also,” she added, after a pause, “they don’t like me. Most of them have never met a demon. There’s no outright hostility but… they talk to me like I’m some gross exotic pet Lucifer found and adopted.”

“They’re afraid of you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nope. I’m wrong about some things. Never about fear. They can tell how much you matter to him, how much he’d do for you and vis versa, and it scares them shitless. Chloe Decker they can understand – she was Dad’s gift, after all. You, though? Lucy was never supposed to love you. No one was.”

She fiddled with her earring; big, gold, shaped like a swallow with rubies dotting its tail feathers. A gift from Eve. “Whatever. Anyway, that’s why I’m here. With you. Instead of them. You’re the worst, most obnoxious, most cowardly creep ever. I mean it. Christ, do you suck. But you always talked to me like I was a person. Right from the beginning.”

Ugliness flared behind his eyes. “Seriously? Now you’re being nice? Lucifer sent his general to console me? Ha! That’s how pitiful he thinks I am?”

“Pfft – no. Lucifer doesn’t give a crap about you. I’m here because I wanna offer you a job, moron.”

“A… job.”

“Yep. Ever heard of ‘bounty-hunting’?”

He nodded. Slowly. Smirking, she pushed off the wall and twirled on her six-inch heels to face him.

“Here’s the thing, o Angel of Dread; I’ve spent centuries in Hell learning how to terrify people. I look at you and you know what I see? Potential. Sure, you’re rough around the edges. Still got some celestial baby fat clinging to you. Still a little squeamish when it comes to certain tricks of the trade. But Mikey, honey, six months under my tutelage and I think we can turn you into a bona fide fucking nightmare.”

She let the skin on her face’s left side melt away and grinned at him. “So? How about it?”

“Eh,” he said after taking one last glance around the terminal. “Fuck it. Why not? Nothing better to do.”

“Los Angeles is kinda like me,” Mazikeen told him, taking off her red-lensed cat-eye sunglasses as she strutted down the pier.

“Doesn’t have a soul?”

A withering glare. “Tough. Pretty on the outside, mean on the inside. It’s easy to make enemies around here and when you’ve made ‘em, you need to stay on your toes. Stay nimble. Stay mobile. Ready to fight or flee at any moment.”

Michael nodded. “And that’s how you justify living on a tugboat.”

“Ahoy!” called Eve, standing on the deck in a polka dot bikini and pirate hat Mazikeen had presumably stolen for her off the set of some summer blockbuster or other being shot nearby, the salty breeze playing with her hair.

“It’s a yacht,” Mazikeen growled.

“No. That’s a yacht,” Michael replied, pointing to the gleaming white MCY 70 Skylounge docked nearby. “What you have is a glorified raft that can, at best, accommodate two people and maybe a toaster.”

He should, perhaps, be trying harder to ingratiate himself with his new boss.

But he was tired.

Getting in his face, she snapped, “Hey! That’s our headquarters, asshole. Show some respect.”

“It’s covered in seagull crap. It looks older than me. There’s a very obvious bloodstain on the helm. Jesus, doesn’t Lucifer pay you?”

She pushed him into the sea.

Offering him a hand when he bobbed to the surface, Eve said, “Don’t take it personally. She’s just mad because we weren’t able to steal a bigger one.”

It was while Michael was towelling himself dry down below decks that the chunky-faced cop wandered in, took one look at him, and strode across the room.

“Mister Espinoza,” he drawled, “what can I-… oh. Oh, wow, you really thought that was going to work, huh?”

Curled up on the floor, clutching the fist he’d very mistakenly slammed into Michael’s jaw, Dan hissed, “Fuck you. You killed me.”

“Poppycock. I had you killed. That’s entirely different, buddy.”

Dan staggered to his feet and shouted, “Maze! Eve! What the hell is he doing here?”

Taking off his wet jacket and draping it over the rack alongside the towel, Michael said, “I was invited, thank you very much. No one told me you were part of the arrangement.”

“What arrangement, asshole?” Dan snapped, turning red. “I’m just here to help Maze fix her boat’s engine.”

“Oh. You don’t work with her, then? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. As we’ve established, you’re entirely too killable.”

“You sleazy son-of-a… Maze! Get down here!”

Grumbling, Michael’s new boss stalked below deck carrying a crate of beer on her left shoulder and a sleeping bag under her right arm. “Goddammit – Dan, I told you to wait. Is your hand bleeding, you big meathead? We seriously just dragged your ass out of Hell and you couldn’t go two whole days before breaking yourself again? Ugh. You’re impossible. You’re worse than Decker.”

“Maze, d’you wanna explain what the actual fuck Lucifer’s psycho twin is doing here?”

“Interning,” Michael said, cheerfully.

His face now practically purple, Dan half-yelled, “What is he talking about? This is not okay, Maze! Does Chloe know? Does Amenadiel? Why is he even still on Earth? Lucifer’s God now; can’t he stick him on Mars or turn him into a bug or something?”

“Look, Dan, just calm down-…” she began.

“I died! I actually, literally, physically died! Because of him! No, I’m not going to calm down!”

Michael scoffed. “Please. Like that’s what you’re really upset about. You’re not angry about dying. You’re not angry at all. You’re scared, buttercup. And not just of me; of her, of Lucifer, of everything, and to be honest, I didn’t even need to use the ol’ angel juice to work that out.”

Mazikeen set down her cargo, pulled a knife from her belt, and flung it. It embedded itself five inches deep in the floor between them. “This? This is not Lux, dickheads. Mortals and celestials don’t hang out here to have a good time while I sit behind the bar and tolerate them. This crummy, crusty-ass, piece of crap boat is my domain. Here, I don’t have to put up with one femtometre of your bullshit. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else. If you want to fuck, do it quick and clean up afterwards. If you want to make yourselves useful, help me get the weapons on board.”

“Wait – wait, weapons? What weapons?” said Dan to her retreating back. “You said you were going fishing. Maze! What weapons?”

“Where’s all your stuff?” Eve asked when she showed him to his tiny cabin.

“I’m an archangel. I don’t have ‘stuff’.”

(Michael had already decided he didn’t like her. She was bubbly.)

“Heh. You should travel with Lucy sometime. We went to Vancouver for a weekend and he brought seven bags, five watches, and six pairs of shoes. Okay, do you – uh, do you at least have a change of clothes? Because those look kinda soggy.”

To his annoyance – and embarrassment – she spend twenty minutes hunting down a shirt and pants that would fit him.

“They’re mine,” she said, dropping them into his lap. “But I bought them to sleep in and I like loose pyjamas, so they’re a dozen sizes too big on me. Oh! Also found you this.”

She presented a hot water bottle in the shape of a fat, cuddly sheep.

He accepted it carefully, wondering if it was booby-trapped. “You’re Lucifer’s ex, right?”

“Er… yep? Amongst other things. The Original Sinner. First Woman, First Wife, First Mother. Mother of Mankind. Second Human. First Knowledgeable Human. But sure, I was also your brother’s girlfriend for a while.”

“And now you’re Mazikeen’s. Do you also work with her?”

“Sure do!” she said, interpreting the question as an invitation to sit down next to him. “I’m The Choronzon’s captain. That’s our boat’s name. My idea. I know she’s not much to look at but she’s got so much history. There’ve been fourteen homicides on her! Plus, she’s fast; way, way faster than she looks. And I know the beds are hard, but we’ve got three hammocks stashed away and getting them set up is easy as pie.”

“Wow. Those suckers up in the Silver City don’t know what they’re missing.”

She nodded, blinking slowly. “Hmm. Maze was right. You are mean. That’s cool. I get on well with mean people. Anyway, just in case she hasn’t told you; we’ve got a job lined up and we’ll be setting sail tomorrow at dawn. You get seasick? Not a problem; we’ve got a medical kit full of antiemetics. On that note, should we pick up something for you before we leave shore?”

“No.”

“You sure? Just that – uh – I mean, my third son, Seth, the one nobody talks about – he also had pretty severe scoliosis. Wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it back then. But these days they’ve got tons of stuff; opiods and anti-inflammatories and memory foam. Science is so, so cool. And I’m going shopping for sunscreen anyway, so dropping by the pharmacy wouldn’t be a problem.”

For a moment, he reviewed a list of responses that would deeply, profoundly hurt her, responses that would ensure she didn’t approach him again.

But he was tired, tired, tired.

“Here.”

He took a folded piece of A4 paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “These are what the last human doctor I went to recommended. Getting hold of those three I’ve circled is tricky, but I know a guy. Call him on that number down there and he’ll meet you wherever. If he gives you any trouble, remind him that Michael knows about the vacuum cleaner. That’ll shut him up.”

As soon as she’d bounced out of the room, he shut the door, locked it, and laid down to sleep.

It was night when he awoke.

He went upstairs to find Mazikeen and Eve sitting on the deck, admiring what stars could be seen through Los Angeles’ perpetual light pollution and sharing a pizza.

“Mickey! Get over here,” called Mazikeen, clad in a black dressing down and slippers shaped like plump pink pigs.

“It’s freezing,” he complained.

She snickered and threw him the prickly blanket that had been resting over her knees. “Wimp. Eve told you about the job, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to use any weapons?” Eve asked. “Maze sticks with her knives most of the time. I prefer my traps and crossbow. But we’ve got guns, if that’s more your speed.”

They were clearly expecting him to sit down. Eve had even scooted to the left to make room.

He opened the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders, remaining standing. “Can I ask a question? What, precisely, is my role here?”

“For now, you’re a meat shield,” said Mazikeen, talking through a mouthful of pepperoni and violently yellow cheese. “Me and Eve are both vulnerable to bullets. I mean – I’m less vulnerable, obviously. But I don’t hate any of my relatives enough to go about finding out exactly how many bullets it takes to snuff a demon. So your job, at least tomorrow, is just to soak up enemy fire until we’ve got our hands on the target.”

Scowling, he said, “Getting shot does hurt, you know.”

“Yeah,” she replied, eyes shining with spite. “Dan sure seemed to think so.”

When the tense silence had stretched for over thirty seconds, Eve clapped her hands, smiling anxiously, and said, “So! Anyone up for rummy?”

(to be continued)

#mazikeen #eve #michael demiurgos #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #fanfic #my fic #evezikeen

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persephonesfill · 3 years

Text

choke on me—chapter four

breathe me in (prequel fic)

chapter three

chapter five

a/n: this is a pretty chill chapter, and chapter five is going to be the exact opposite so have fun with this one while you can ;) also for my bilingual readers, if i have any, please excuse my shitty Italian in this chapter, i'm literally just working off of google translate

rating: pretty gen...this time

warning(s): n/a

—————

Carmen couldn't have picked a better day for a carnival; It's not too hot out for it to be August nonetheless. A slight breeze ruffles Tony's ungelled hair, sending his bangs into his eyes. He smooths the hair back with a huff. So much for keeping it casual today. His brief irritation dissipates when he looks, truly looks, at his surroundings.

The scent of cotton candy and funnel cake and something smoky, no doubt barbecue, carries on the wind. There are two long lines of booths, rides, and rest places alike stretching for a good yard. The other volunteers are zooming about, dressed in bright red tees like the Avengers, finishing up last-minute preparations.

"She doesn't half-ass anything, huh?" Clint says. He sounds impressed and…a little excited. Tony can't lie...he's excited too.

"I'll say," Steve says, and there's no hiding the awe in his voice. "I can't believe some of these rides even exist."

Out the corner of his eye, Tony sees Thor lean down to whisper something in Bruce's ear, blue eyes dancing. Whatever he said makes Bruce laugh, a real one, not the sharp little chuckle that's usually full of self-loathing or sarcasm or both.

They're off to a good start. Even Natasha looks pleased, or as pleased as she can be, with her arms crossed in front of her. She's taking in their surroundings too, but Tony knows that a part of her isn't doing it for fun. She's looking for enemies, escape routes, any possible threats to her and the others.

"You can take an agent out of the field," he thinks. He hopes that maybe she'll loosen up by the end of the day, preferably without anyone getting hurt.

"Where's Solomita?" she asks. "I want to know what we’re doing.”

"I know where she is," Tony says and leads the way, picking out Carmen's chirpy voice, throwing out orders and praise with a megaphone, Jesus Christ.

"Make sure you're at your booths in ten minutes! The kids are going to be arriving soon!"

She's crossing things off on her clipboard when Tony and the Avengers following behind him pull up in front of her.

She hasn't changed a bit since Tony's last seen her. She's still tan, still short, shorter than Tony. Her dark wavy hair is pulled back into what she used to call her "business braid" for when she had "shit that needs to be done."

Tony clears his throat, and Carmen looks up, her big brown eyes going wide before a grin breaks across her face and—

Carmen pounces on him, full-on throwing her arms around Tony's neck. Tony catches her no problem and—Carmen's mood is so infectious—gives her a little twirl before setting her down.

"Jesus Christ," Clint says under his breath. "She almost took him out."

"Did not," Carmen says, and Clint has the good sense to look bashful. "This is normal for us. Especially when someone hasn't reached out in two. Years," she says, slapping Tony on the arm twice for emphasis.

"Ouch," he says, rubbing his arm. "I've been busy."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save the world a few times, and suddenly you have no time for your friends," she says, grinning, so Tony knows she's joking. She turns to the Avengers, who've all been standing there awkwardly like they're the new kids in school.

"All jokes aside, I'm thankful for you guys, all of you," she says. "Who knows where we'd be without the Avengers." She sticks out her hand for them to shake and for a split second, nobody moves. Maybe it was the genuine gratitude in Carmen's voice, or the others were still trying to process Carmen's everything, but the smile on her face starts to waver at their hesitation.

Steve is the first to act, taking Carmen's hand in his own. "Thank you, ma'am," he says. "I know I speak for everyone when I say that we're glad the team exists, and we'll help out any way we can."

"Thank you," Tony mouths to him, and Steve gives him a slight nod, letting go of Carmen's hand.

Thor steps up next and, in true princely fashion, bows, bringing Carmen's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her palm. "A pleasure to be here, my lady," Thor says.

Carmen's face is red when Thor straightens back up, releasing her hand. After that, it's like the others shift into gear. Clint apologizes for his comment. Bruce offers her a kind hello until it's just Natasha who steps up until she's right in front of Carmen. Even though they're the same height, Carmen stiffens up, looking at Natasha like she's about to get chastised.

Natasha simply...sticks out her hand. "It’s nice to meet you,” she begins.

Carmen takes Natasha��s hand slowly like she’s expecting some trick.

“I’m actually a fan,” Natasha says. “I saw your work this February while undercover. Very nice.”

"Thank you," Carmen says. If she blushes anymore, Tony’s going to start worrying about her health. "I was actually inspired by your suit. The leather and the bodycon silhouette paired well with Fall and Winter."

"Oh, really?" Natasha says, raising her brows. Natasha looks her up and down, and Carmen, much to her credit, holds her gaze. "I have ideas for your spring collection if you'd like to hear them."

And just like that, the Avengers have won Carmen over forever. And Tony didn't even have to make any threats. Maybe today won't be a disaster after all.

"Yes, please," Carmen says, her voice coming out high and reedy. "I mean since you're offering—"

“Carmen,” Tony interrupts before she starts melting under the full force of Natasha’s undivided attention, “what’s the game plan for today?”

"Game plan. Right. We're here to work." Carmen clears her throat, a flush still staining her cheeks, and flips through some of the pages on her clipboard. "Okay, Tony, you're easy. You're running the basketball booth."

Basketball. He can do basketball.

"Mr. Rogers," Carmen says. Natasha starts humming "Won't You Be My Neighbor" until Steve shoots her an exasperated look.

"Sorry," Natasha says, not sounding sorry at all.

"Please, call me Steve," Steve says. "She already has that song set as my ringtone."

"Steve," Carmen says. "I know you're an artist. Think you could do caricatures slash portraits?"

Steve nods. "Easy enough."

The rest of the assignments go quickly. Natasha gets the sharpshooting booth, Clint's over Ring Toss, and Thor and Bruce will oversee the sack race. Now that introductions and assignments are over, there's a thrum of excitement to the air. Or anxiety. Tony's not sure yet.

"Nervous?" Carmen says to him. She's tucked her pen behind her ear.

"Maybe," he says. "Maybe not. It could just be indigestion."

"Gross," she laughs, wrinkling her nose. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I meant what I said, you know. I'm glad you guys showed up. You know how much A Helping Hand means to me."

Of course, he does. Carmen's like him...in more ways than one. She had been orphaned at nineteen when her parents' plane had gone down over the Atlantic.

And at twenty-one, she had also found herself the sole heir to a family fortune and no family to share it with. She got the idea for A Helping Hand after Tony's own parents had died.

Tony repeats what she had told him all those years ago. "Us orphans gotta stick together."

"Damn right," she says. "Siamo famiglia."

"Siamo famiglia," Tony echoes.

"Congrats on your new additions, by the way," Carmen says.

Tony's brows furrow. "What new additions?" he asks.

Carmen tilts her head at him like she used to whenever she thought he had said something stupid. "You're telling me that those five supermodels you call teammates just came here for shits and giggles?"

"They needed a day off," Tony explains. "I offered. Nothing else to it."

"They came because you asked them, dumbass. They're your friends."

Tony's not going to argue with her, mostly since the others have stopped talking amongst themselves and are looking right at them.

"Anyway," he says pointedly, "can you point me in the direction of my booth?"

*********

For the next three hours, Tony shoves Carmen's words from his mind and throws himself into teaching anyone who steps up to the basketball booth about physics. It wasn't cheating per se; Tony simply calculated the angle the kids would have to throw the ball along with the perfect amount of force. The looks of shock followed by unabashed glee after they made a basket more than made up for any guilt he was feeling.

His break comes faster than he wants it to, but he has to take one eventually and decides the best way to do that is to take a walk. His fellow volunteer, a young man named Jake, says he'll be able to hold down the fort while Tony's gone. Maybe Tony will check on the others, see how they're faring.

“It’s a great day to fly,” he thinks. The sky is a soft pale blue that soothes his heart. Cirrus clouds, like pulled apart cotton candy, lazily make their way across the horizon. Maybe after the carnival is over, he’ll take the suit out for a ride and cruise through the skies.

He wanders without direction, letting his feet carry him wherever they fancy. Seldom does Tony get quiet moments to himself like this. There was always a fire to put out, a project to work on, kittens to rescue from trees, that sort of thing. Not that he ever doubted her, but maybe Pepper was right. Maybe he did work too hard.

The sound of children squealing pulls him from his thoughts and brings a smile to his face. Carmen had spared no expense, not that he expected any less, as he takes in the Tilt-a-Whirl lifting its arms higher and higher. The riders throw their arms up in the air, their laughter carrying on the wind. For today, they would get to fly too.

Tony continues on, the shouts and whoops and laughs fading into the background; he's made it to a quieter part of the carnival where they tucked off all of the arts and crafts booths.

There's the finger painting table where plenty of toddlers and adults alike are flinging paint onto sheets of canvas. One kid rises from the face painting table with Cap's shield emblazoned upon his cheek and a booth over...there's Steve, drawing caricatures for the kids. There's a curve to his lips. Steve's biting back a smile at the little boy trying (and failing) to sit still in his chair as he draws him. Tony's heart jumps at the sight. He's tempted to slide into the line for Steve's booth himself, but something holds him back. It could be the look of contentment on Steve's face or the kid's near infectious excitement—Tony feels like he's intruding on something private. Someone else's life. Someone else's dream.

His heart pangs in his chest as the little boy jumps as soon as his drawing is finished and throws himself into Steve's arms. Steve startles but recovers quickly, giving the kid a polite hug back.

For some reason, Tony thinks of the kid he met not even a year ago when everyone thought he was dead: Harley. Tony didn't hug Harley. He didn't have it in him to hug Harley. The kid deserved it, though, for dealing with Tony's shit. Tony liked kids well enough, but having one of his own? He would never admit it out loud, but it scared him. And Steve...Steve deserved more than a coward.

There's less energy in his steps as he turns around and walks right back to the basketball booth.

He knows he still has time left on his break, but for some reason, he can't bring himself to care.

He finishes his shift with little fanfare, the carnival-goers opting for the rides and fair food after loading up on prizes for the day.

His head's all foggy like he just got up from a nap. He's so out of it, he doesn't even realize that the others are walking up to his booth. Tony blinks slowly, trying to ignore the pressure building in his forehead, a sure sign of a headache.

"Hey," Steve says when they make it to his booth. "You about ready?"

Tony winces, prompting the others to look him up and down.

"You okay? What's bothering you?" Clint asks.

"Just got a headache," Tony says, stepping out from his booth, giving Jake a wave. Jake waves back, trying his best not to look starstruck at the sight of the other Avengers.

"Did you eat at all?" Natasha asks, and as soon as she says something, his stomach growls.

"Guess not," Bruce says.

"You must eat," Thor says gently. "A warrior such as yourself must maintain your strength."

He knows they're right, but being confronted by all of them at once has his hackles rising. Carmen's words are getting all tangled up with Pepper's, and he can't. Stop. Thinking.

"I will," he says, aware that they're watching him more closely now. He hopes that he doesn't look as unsound as he feels. "But why leave just yet? Don't you guys want to check out some of the booths or rides before we leave?"

Steve starts to object, but Natasha is one second faster. "I did want to beat Clint at Shoot 'em Up," she says with a smirk.

Steve looks ready to protest, but Clint cuts him off. "Oh, you're on," he says. "Loser has to do the other's paperwork for two weeks."

"Prepare to drown in files, Barton," Natasha says, catching Tony's eye.

Tony nods at her. A Thank you.

She flips her hair over her shoulder. You're welcome. He doesn't know when they learned to read each other so well.

Clint and Natasha make their way to the sharpshooting booth, Thor and Bruce walking along behind them.

"You sure you're okay?" Steve asks, scanning Tony from head to toe. Steve can see through him so easily, his skin might as well be made of glass.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tony says. "Come on. Let's catch up before they kill each other."

*********

Natasha and Clint tie in Shoot 'em Up. Since Tony is on a team that consists entirely of children, they extend their competition to every booth in the carnival. Steve warms up as the day goes on, even joining in on their little competition along with Thor. Tony and Bruce are just content to watch.

Thor ropes Steve into the strongman game, which attracts a crowd, but who would turn down the sight of two handsome, well-built men lifting heavy things and showing off their muscles? Tony certainly couldn't, and given the way Bruce eyes the bulge of Thor's biceps, neither could he.

Steve rings the bell easily and wins, of all things, a Captain Ameribear for his trouble.

"Aw," Tony says. "It has wings on its helmet too."

"Are we just going to ignore the fact that it came with a shield pillow?" Clint asks.

Steve blushes, but it's all in good fun. Thor, of course, breaks the game, the bell flying clean off the top of the tower. The game runner in awe (and a little bit of fear) gives Thor a prize regardless. Tony promises to compensate the man as soon as possible. Despite all of that, his headache has receded slightly. He needs to eat now, and that barbecue is starting to smell better and better.

Tony's so caught up in drooling over a rack of ribs or some trashed wings he barely notices the others walking off to the next booth, Steve lingering behind to wait on him.

"Sorry," Tony says. "Guess I'm out of it. You...you don't have to wait on me, you know."

Steve shrugs. "No one's forcing me. Spending time with you isn't a chore. This actually works out."

Tony smiles despite himself. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," Steve says. "I just wanted you to have this." Steve hands the bear over to Tony, and Tony...Tony melts because Steve is so fucking cute and sweet, and how did the hell did he end up in Tony's life?

Tony takes the bear, and maybe it's the lack of food in his system, but the urge to cry at Steve's kindness strikes him. The bear is cute with Steve's signature red, white, and blue suit and the shield to go along with it. "Thank you," Tony says. "You sure you want me to hold onto this?"

Steve looks at him from underneath his lashes. "Tony," he begins, "it's a gift. I want you to have it."

"Okay," Tony whispers, feeling like the air is closing in on him. It's hard to breathe when Steve looks at him like that, like Tony means something to him.

"Besides," Steve says, leaning in close to him. "I'm gonna clean the booths out. I'm trying to beat the super spies. Can you keep him safe for me?"

Steve's breath, cool and minty, washes over his face. Tony has to blink a few times, processing what just happened before he can even think about speaking.

"Are you guys coming, or are you just going to gaze into each other's eyes?" Clint shouts from the next booth over.

Tony jumps and hurries to rejoin the others, Steve right behind him, staring into his back.

True to his word, Steve cleans out every booth they touch, until he's practically drowning in stuffed animals. They attract a crowd as they make their way to the food court. Tony's feet are aching, and his stomach is outright roaring for sustenance. He and Thor get the biggest plate of ribs they've got to offer. The meat's so tender it's falling off the bone and smoked to perfection. The sauce they used is homemade, all tang and smoky sweetness. He eats until his stomach is about ready to burst.

Thor's singing the cooks' praises and their delicious Midgardian cuisine and rises to go get seconds, Bruce trailing after him.

Clint runs off to the bathroom, and something catches Steve's eye. Tony follows his gaze to the herd of children trying (and failing) to watch them eat without freaking out. Steve rises from the table, taking his prizes with him, leaving just Tony and Natasha behind.

"Sometimes, I can't believe he's real," Natasha says, breaking the silence. There's no need to wonder who's the "he" she's talking about. Tony thinks it himself sometimes.

It's hard not to when kids start lining up single file for their turn to receive a stuffed animal from Steve.

"Me neither," Tony says. "Howard...he'd tell me all these stories of Steve and the 'good old days'...Steve single-handedly storming a HYDRA facility. Throwing himself on a grenade to give others the chance to live. I always thought he was embellishing a little. Making war stories more digestible for a kid, you know? But seeing him, knowing him? You can't help but wonder how someone can be so good."

"He's not like you," Natasha says. He doesn't even have it in himself to be offended. She's right. Steve isn't like Tony and will never be like Tony. A little rough around the edges. "He's not like me, either," she admits, catching Tony by surprise.

"He's the best of us," Tony says. He glances at her. Natasha sits forward, resting her head upon her palm. Her face is smooth, her cheeks still tinged pink from their rowdy tramping through the fairgrounds. She looks...raw. That's the only word to describe her. Raw and real and human. Not the robot switching personalities and names and appearances like most people change clothes.

"You make him that way," she says, shocking him again. His stomach drops, and whatever peace between them quickly disintegrates. What does she mean by that? What could she possibly know about him and Steve and all the complexities of their relationship?

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tony says, his voice coming out thin.

Something in Natasha’s face softens, and she tilts her head at Tony. “I’m not going to pretend I know all of the details, but…you’re good for him. And I think he’s good for you. You’re both...softer. You look happy.”

It’s like someone’s dumped cold water down Tony’s back; he’s so in shock he can barely register what Natasha is saying. He swallows. Natasha knows. Of course, she knows, and if it weren’t her job to gather intel and pick up on context clues, he’d be a lot more worried that the others knew. But she wasn’t blackmailing him or threatening him to stay away from Steve? She...approved of them? He remembers that debriefing after they had defeated Loki, what felt like a lifetime ago, and her casual dismissal of Tony and his relationship with Steve. He wants to bring it up, to confront her, but what’s there to confront?

He brings it up anyway. “Still think he wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole?”

Natasha tilts her head at him again, and he hates how sweaty his palms have gotten, and the hummingbird beating of his heart, like his relationship with Steve hinges on her opinion.

“No,” she says slowly as if to weigh her words. “He wants you too much. I don’t think he could give you up even if he wanted to.”

As if summoned, Steve comes bounding back to their table looking boyish and vibrant in the evening sun before Tony can process her words.

"What I miss?" he says with a breathless grin, holding onto one last stuffed animal.

"Nothing much," Tony says before Natasha can say anything incriminating. His eyes dart down to the last stuffed animal in Steve's arms. It's an Iron Man bear, of course, all done up in the telltale red and gold of Tony's suit. "What's the deal, no one wanted him?" he says, nodding to the bear.

Steve looks down at the Iron Bear, and what he says next might actually make Tony melt into a puddle. "Nah. Couldn't bear to give him up."

Tony ignores Natasha's pointed look and hopes that his face isn't as red as he thinks it is.

“Clint, you’re riding with me on the Ferris wheel,” Natasha declares when everyone makes it back to their table, and Steve has successfully made Tony as red as his suit.

“A Ferris wheel?” Thor asks, arching his brow.

“It’s a carnival classic,” Clint says. “It’s a giant wheel that lifts you into the air. Perfect way to end the day.”

“It’s older than Cap,” Natasha throws in helpfully, smirking at Steve when he shoots her an exasperated look.

“Your Midgardian traditions are so strange,” Thor says. “Interesting, but strange.”

“I’m not hearing a no,” Clint says.

“Hm.” Thor turns to look at Bruce, who looked surprisingly (and thankfully) content with himself. “Would you like to ride with me, Doctor Banner?”

Bruce reddens, and Tony doesn't feel so alone because it looks like Bruce has his own beefy blond problem he needs to deal with. "Sure, since you asked," Bruce responds, leaving just...Steve.

Steve shares a look with Natasha, and Tony gets the sneaking suspicion that they planned this. Who knew that the fall of SHIELD would lead to one of the most dangerous alliances Tony had ever seen?

"Tony," Steve begins, sounding like he's about to propose, he's so serious. "Want to ride with me?"

His heartbeat quickens, and he's not sure why. It's not like it's a public declaration of love to ride with someone on a Ferris wheel.

It'd look weird if he takes too long to answer, so Tony says, "Yeah. Sounds like a plan."

They toss their trash and pick up their respective prizes they won throughout the day, Natasha with her light-up sword, Clint with his stuffed dog. Thor's lion hat from the strongman game sits proudly atop his head. Tony wants to make a joke about Hercules, but he also doesn't want to deal with the guaranteed headache he'll get when Thor replies with some mind-bending statement like he and Hercules are gym bros or other. Tony and Steve walk side by side, far behind the rest of their little group, bears in one hand, their free hands brushing with each step.

Part of him knows that if he just reached over...if he took that extra step for Steve's hand...Steve would let him. It'd be so easy…

The line to the Ferris wheel isn't too long, and by the time Tony works up the courage to take Steve's hand, the volunteers are strapping them in.

One of the volunteers lowers the bar over their heads, making sure that they're secure, and that's it. Tony's trapped. He's stuck on this Ferris wheel for the next ten minutes, and Steve is so goddamn close he can feel how hot his skin is from being out in the sun and—

"I'm not gonna bite, you know," Steve mutters when they start to ascend. He won't meet Tony's eyes. "I...I know you're afraid of me."

Tony swallows, his stomach twisting into knots at the thought of Steve thinking he feared him.

"I'm not...Steve, I'm not afraid of you," Tony says. Steve's still looking down. He doesn't know where he gets the courage, but he cups Steve's face and makes him look at him. "You hear me? I'm not afraid of you."

Steve's eyes have always been a weakness of Tony's, and right now, when they're so big and blue and so fucking sad, it doesn't do him any favors. They're almost at the top of the wheel. A stray breeze rustles a lock of Steve's hair, and Tony feels like he's on a cliff's edge.

"Then why—" Steve begins, only to be cut off by Tony's lips. Tony closes his eyes and answers Steve the only way he knows how.

It's cliche, but Tony swears he can see fireworks going off behind his eyelids. Steve's lips are warm and soft and pliant against his. Tony deepens the kiss and slides one of his hands into Steve's hair, the other remaining on his face. He can taste the remnants of cotton candy on Steve's mouth.

They break apart because, unfortunately, air is necessary to live. Tony has half a mind to invent a way for humans to survive without air if it meant he could spend the rest of his life kissing Steve.

This high up, with the sun setting behind them, Tony wishes he had at least brought a jacket.

Steve lifts his arm, "Here," he says. "Lean into me." Tony does just that and tucks his body into Steve's side, his arm is a reassuring weight around him.

The others are too far back to see Tony and Steve. It's easy up here, easy to forget that Steve's Captain America and Tony's a barely functioning former alcoholic with a slew of mental issues.

He looks at Steve out the corner of his eye, takes in his features shamelessly and selfishly, the allure of being above everyone reeling him in. He loves Steve's face, the cut of his jaw, and his long, pretty lashes and those eyes. It's painful looking at him. Sometimes it feels like his heart's gonna swell up and pop right out of his chest when he looks at Steve.

In that moment, he's glad they went to the carnival if only to forget the world for a little while.

#stony #stevetony #steve x tony #steve rogers #tony stark #marvel #mcu #stony fanfic #stony fic #stony fanfiction #superhusbands #my fic #my writing #imperialstark fic #choke on me

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Text

Study Sessions

Calum’s always wanted to go back to school and it’s the first midterm that makes him realize just how long it’s been since he’s been in a class. Thankfully, Noa’s nice, albeit a little too organized, and more than happy to help.

Who asked for a 21 page long fic about Calum, Valentine’s Day, smut, and poetry? Bc I got one hot off the presses.

There is 18+ content in this fic. Please, no one under the age of 18 interacting or reading. Thank you!

You can support me on ko-fi. I’m saving up for graduate school.

____________________________________

Noa really wants to kick herself. She always left her pencil pouch in the front zipper of her backpack. Everything had a system; everything had a place with Noa. The placement of the full-length mirror in the corner of the dorm room, the cleaning supplies, the rotation of who cleaned what, making sure her books were always in the same spot, and always, always putting the pencil pouch in the front zipper of her backpack was important to Noa. She was sure it drove her roommate up the wall in their dorm room. But Brooklyn, Noa’s roommate, could be just as anal retentive about the trash and boxes from their addictive online shopping, and keeping the room free other people past 11 pm. Their crazies matched. So things worked out well.

Maybe Noa was panicking a little too much about a pencil pouch. That didn’t really matter though. Her system was out of whack and she would have to backtrack to the science building on the other side of campus before making a loop and going to the library after class. Her printer refused to print properly and while it was annoying having to go to the library at the end of the day to type up and print out her notes to study later, it made catching group dinner with her friends easier on Thursday’s because she didn’t leave the west side of campus to go to her dorm. This did, however, mean that when Noa was going to get a lot more steps in today. Not bad, but not ideal.

This also means that she’s going to have to use a laptop. She hated using her laptop because it meant she’d have to rewrite her notes so there were no gaps in her notebook. Noa could see that it was a very contrived system--at the end of the day, all she needed were the notes. That’s it. But it mattered to the deep recesses of her mind. It had to flow from handwritten notes to her laptop, no matter how she had to backtrack

“Here, I have an extra.”

Noa blinks at the hushed voice. A black pen slides in next to her open notebook. The hand is tan and tattooed. She knows those initials anywhere. Calum. She smiles and looks up to him, even if the shadows cover his face thanks to the bucket hat. It’s a staple she’s noticed over the course of the semester. “Thanks. Promise I won’t steal it,” Noa grins.

Calum exhales his laughter. “I’d be a little upset but they are really good pens to write with. So I’d understand.”

“I’m a woman of my word, though. So you won’t have to chase me down.” Noa dates the top right corner of her blank page and then pulls out her book. She hates the book. She wasn’t able to get a copy to rent and had to kick out 50 bucks for the anthology for class, one she never really use again either.

Calum gives a hum in response, his own pen twirling around his fingers. The professor, a man in his late sixties at the youngest, with thinning white hair and thick circular glasses walks in through the doors. There’s still five minutes before class starts and the chatter amongst students quiets just a little but doesn’t stop. Calum looks to her notebook, the way she’s written the poet’s name at the top of the page, her handwriting is tight together with a lot of width for each letter. It’s pretty with a little mess to it.

He’s noticed that she normally uses purple ink for her notes and part of him feels bad for not having a purple pen for her. “Sorry it’s not a purple pen,” Calum states turning to face her.

How the hell did Calum notice that? Sure she had a color for every class she took each semester. But surely no one else would’ve noticed that. It had only been three weeks of the semester. No one could’ve known that besides her group of friends and her roommate. “No, no, it’s okay. I forgot my pencil pouch in my last class so you really saved me from having to use my laptop.”

“Don’t like it?”

Noa shakes her head, feeling some of her Senegalese twists falling from the bun she put it up into on her walk across campus. Though this part of campus was walkable the heat of summer was dry and it took no prisoners some days. “I remember everything better if I write it down in my own words instead of just typing everything down the professor says. It’s like I’m not learning anything.”

He gives another nod. Though Calum studied for his high school diploma on some late nights, on tour buses, hell even in the studio, he liked sitting in class. He liked processing things and attempting to get the right words together to understand the core of things. He liked the sense of normalcy. It was nice to be learning not just from a textbook but from everyone else in the room. Sure this is just a poetry class, and sure he hadn’t really known what to expect with a title like “Modern Poetry from 1920” but he was straddled in and was surely going to see until the very end.

Before Calum can respond, the professor clears their throat. He fishes his book out of his bag too and flips to the poems that he read the night before. “Hope everyone’s having a great day,” the professor starts. Even from the fifth row of the tiny room, Calum notices the shakes in the older man’s hands. The room is full of three to four gray rectangular tables pushed together to create rows. They sit two at each table comfortably. Each row sits about forty students comfortably.

“A quick reminder, your first midterm is next week. All the poets we’ve discussed including today’s poet is going to be material that I will pull questions from. I’ll be providing the excerpts if a question calls for it. I’m saving about ten minutes at the end of class for us to discuss it more in-depth.”

With a quick dab to the corners of his mouth, he finds a volunteer to read the first poem up for discussion. Once the first reading is concluded, the professor looks around for another person to read. Noa lifts her gaze and she locks eyes with the professor. A fucking rookie mistake. Something she knew better of in her eighteen years of being in school. But here she is making it. They smile at her and point at her. “Miss Noa, right? Why don’t you read for us?”

With a nervous habit of biting her pens, Noa puts Calum’s pen down and picks at her nails underneath the table. She nods and lets her eyes drift down to the page. “When over the flowery, sharp pasture’s/ edge, unseen, the salt ocean/lifts its form.” Her voice is a little shaky and though William Carlos Williams's poem is short, she becomes more confident by the end.

Calum watches her reading more than he listens. In the three weeks classes have started, she’s never read. Neither has he. But it’s already a little awkward to walk around campus, being in a classroom isn’t too bad but it’s a confined space. He knows people are looking. He knows that they know who he is. He does what he can do just blend in and even hide. He likes listening to her reading. Her insights in class have always kind of blown Calum away too, now that he thinks about it.

As discussion opens up, Calum finds himself taking fewer notes than usual and waiting for Noa to speak again. She doesn’t say much about the first poem but the second about the death of a cat she cuts in to make reference to Robert Frost’s poem. “I know there’s a literal connection of fire and ice in each poem but there’s death in both pieces too. Frost and Williams’ are on opposite ends of the same spectrum in a way. Williams is talking about fleas that couldn’t escape death and Frost mentions that nature is powerful that if it doesn’t take you with the sweeping fire then it will swallow you up with water. Williams's titled his piece, ‘Complete Destruction,’ and he details the destruction of a pet, of maybe even memories. While Frost is more metaphorical with some religious undertones too about the destruction of society and earth.”

Calum grins a little, watching the way she shrugs at the end of her thought. As much as if she weren’t so sure of herself. When she glances over to him, he nods at her, writing down a condensed version of her thought. The class goes on and the professor ends early like they stated. There are a few questions about the style of the midterm but not too many about the content. So the professor pulls up a small canvas bag. “Before you leave, feel free to grab a piece of candy. I know it’s Valentine’s Day and you guys may or may not still have classes after this. So I hope it helps your day just a little. I have chocolate and non-chocolate options.”

He upturns the bag gently, shaking the wrapped candies onto the table next to the podium. Laptops are shut, people get up to venture to the candy. Noa slides the black pen across the gray table to Calum. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Without much thinking, in the shuffle of packing up belongings, Noa lets what she intends to be just a thought fall over her lips. “I haven’t had a Valentine’s in so long, candy from a professor feels special,” she jokes.

Calum laughs a little, pocketing the pens and stands. “What’s your poison?”

Noa looks up at him, the cut of his jaw and the soft smile on his lips, puffing out his cheeks. “I’m a dark chocolate fan. But anything chocolate is fine.”

He nods and shuffles, backpack thrown up over one shoulder. Calum gets to the table and picks up what he estimates to be the two biggest Hershey's kisses on the table. He picks up one for himself too. Noa finally gets her backpack zipped and she slides out from between the tables. Calum drops the kisses into her hands when she pauses at the door to the classroom. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Her heart shouldn’t flutter like it does when Calum smiles at her. She pulls the twists down and slips the silk tie around her wrist. “I’m sure you’ve got someone to get too. But thanks, though.”

Calum pushes open the door to the English building and holds it open for her. “See that’s where you might be a little wrong on your analysis.”

Noa scuffs, attempting to bite back the smile. The kiss doesn’t last long before she’s biting into the candy. She shakes her head. The joke is cheesy but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t like it. “I won’t be won over by academic pickup lines.”

They pause at the end of the pathway that leads up to the building. Students are carrying on around them, to and fro they scuttle across the asphalt and brick. “Do you have another class after this?” Calum asks.

“No, it’s my last one of the day.”

“Since we’re both lonely on Valentine’s Day, do you mind if we study together? For the midterm? It would really seal our fates.”

Noa nods. Who is she to say no to Calum Hood? She could say no of course and it’s as the breeze kicks up another heavy and slightly stale pocket of hot air that she’s reminded of her misplaced pencil pouch. “Shit, I have to go to the science building. I left my pencil pouch there. I have no clue if there’s another class in there and like I need that.”

“I-I can walk with you. If you’d like. I don’t get to see much of the campus.” Calum keeps his schedule to Monday, Wednesday, Friday. He’s here from about eleven to four most days and then he heads back home. Hanging around campus would only serve to get Calum caught but he knows it might be awkward to offer his place to study.

“Are you sure? It’s kind of far and I’m not a slow walker.”

Readjusting his hold on his strap, Calum nods. “Lead the way.”

Noa ties her hair back. “Less scenic route to get there. More scenic route on the way back.” When she steps, it’s more like a run. Noa cuts straight across, over the grass and dodging the bushes. Calum wasn’t sure what he was expecting but her power walking like his mother when they go to the grocery store wasn’t it. He keeps up though, regrettably passing by the dogs playing fetch without cooing at them.

They cut behind buildings. A less-traveled path Calum can tell but it’s well known amongst though that have to use it to get to and from classes. He watches the others power walking past him and he’s glad he was able to keep most of his classes in buildings close together. Though parking was terrible and required him parking sometimes a block away, it was better than this walk, especially on the short time they had between classes.

His thighs start to burn just a little when they reach the towering brick building. It looks almost like every other building on campus, minus the sign hammered into the ground--it’s the only thing that denotes its uniqueness. Noa takes the front stairs two at a time. “Holy shit, how do you do this every other day and still live?” he huffs once they enter. The lights are bright against the sterile white tiles and marble. Another marker, he notes, the older buildings on campus have dimmer light, less white. This has a more modern feel to it.

“I don’t. I die about three minutes into the walk.”

He’s laughter leaves him in bursts, as he attempts to get his breathing back. Thankfully she stays on the first floor. Any more stairs and Calum’s sure he would’ve just opted to wait at the doors for her. The room she stops at does have some students piling in but she doesn’t stop for too long. When Noa ducks her head inside, she notices her pencil pouch sitting on a folding chair at the back of the lecture hall. Not where she left it. But she’s glad she doesn’t have to go sifting through some three hundred seats in the classroom.

She’s quick to grab it. She can feel the eyes of the other students looking at her. Because she doesn’t raise a ruckus, the stares don’t last long and she closes the door quietly behind her. “You all good?” Calum asks.

She holds the black pouch with roses up and grins. “All good. I just hope I didn’t kill you with that trek.”

He watches her slip into the front pocket. “I mean, I died about two minutes into it. But I’m okay now.”

Noa sucks on her teeth, a tsk falling over her lips. “Gotta keep at it. You’ll be a pro at it in no time. Is the library cool? Doubling seal our fates?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The walk back is less intense. They take the asphalt paths and go the long way around in front of buildings. They stop for a moment to just watch the dogs running on the green. They loop back around to the English building and continue on down past it. “So are you getting a degree or auditing classes?” Noa asks.

“Auditing. I thought about going back full time but it works better for me to just audit them. The whole getting grading thing still kind of gets to me.” Calum likes to fulfill his curiosity. He just didn’t want the fear of failing to hinder him. And while he had loaded his schedule at nine credits, which was only three classes, it was more than enough. He was tempted to drop one of his classes and though Calum wasn’t super fond of the intro to psychology class, he wanted to tough it out. Prove to himself that he didn’t have to avoid the obstacle but could instead tackle it head-on.

Noa gives a hum. “Gives you time to still work on music?”

“Yeah.” He isn’t shocked that she knows. He is glad though that she doesn’t treat him differently. That she hasn’t made a huge deal of his fame. He wishes he could cloak that, at least here at school. “What about you? What are you studying?”

“I was Community Health Sciences. I switched to Public Affairs last year. So I have another semester tacked.”

The trek to the library feels somehow too short and too long at the same time. Calum’s sure it’s his thighs still angry at the stairs to get inside the science building. He learns she has an older brother and that’s she the first one in her family to go to college. She worries about the extra semester and the finances but her parents have encouraged her to keep going. Noa finds out that Calum has a dog and if he had to pick something to study it would probably be in English. He could see himself in Religious Studies. Calum’s not sure though and he’s glad he doesn’t have to be sure. He can just take whatever for the moment.

Inside the library, Noa goes to make a beeline for the open computers and then stops. “We can book a study room? I’m not sure if you just want to be, like out in the open?”

Calum looks around. It’s nearing about 5 in the evening. No one is really in the library. Most people have plans. There’s no reason to sit inside the library on Valentine’s Day when one can drink in sorrows or be out celebrating. “Whichever you prefer.”

“Let’s just get a room. I doubt anyone’s going to be hanging out here on a day like this. But I doubt you’ll be back here at all. So why not go for the full experience? The only thing you're missing is final’s week and hunkering down in a study room where you pull an all-nighter and show up to your class in your pj’s and with your pillow in your backpack.”

He doesn’t want to believe that actually happens. But she says it so matter of factly. “You’re kidding right?”

“I am speaking from experience.” She walks one of the open computers and pulls out her laptop. She logs into both of them and then pulls up the scheduling system for the various study rooms located throughout the library. “We can only technically schedule in thirty-minute blocks for up to two hours. But there’s a trick around that.”

Calum logs in as he’s instructed to do on her laptop and they agree on a room. She books it, for every hour and when the blocks show up gray for Calum on his refresh, he goes in and books it for every half hour so that they have the room from 5 to 8. “So the library has pretty strict rules about noise. Generally, the higher the level you are the quieter you have to be. The second floor is as far as I go. You can talk inside the study rooms but nothing super chatty unlike the ground floor,” Noa explains on their ascent. “I have my notes from the other classes printed out. And I was going to type up the notes from today before working on a study guide. How does that sound?”

“Anything sounds good right about now because I literally have no clue how I’m supposed to study for this at all.”

Noa grins, cracking open the door to their room. It’s tucked towards the back of the floor, in a corner. It’s behind the bathrooms and not too far from the stairs so it’s not hard to navigate to and from for bathroom or snacks located in the vending machines on the first floor. “Trust me that’s my entire college experience. You kind of figure out what works best for you as you go along.”

The room isn’t big by any means. The white table sits in the middle of it with two trash cans near the door and a whiteboard that holds the left behind lettering of study sessions past is the complete setup, not including the four chairs pushed into the conference length table. Noa drops her bag into a chair and finds her pencil pouch, she pulls out a couple dry erase markers and an eraser in a plastic bag.

“Do you want to write down the different poets we’ve studied on the board? Start there at the very least.”

Calum, putting his bag down in the free chair, nods. It’s when he glances down at his phone just to check the time that he worries for a moment that he should get home to Duke but after shooting a quick text to his roommate he confirms that someone is there to take him out and feed him. Noa opens up her laptop, notebook and pulls the textbook out too from the depths of her backpack.

Calum’s handwriting is mostly uppercase and narrow. But it’s mostly neat. The markers thankfully don’t squeak on the board. He draws columns for each poet, thinking that will at least help contain the guaranteed mess of ideas during this window. He even goes a step further and creates squares for each poem, scribbling down the titles into corners

The room’s not even that hot, while Calum browsing through his notes. Noa’s been typing for a while since he finished setting up the drawing board. But suddenly from the walk around his jacket is too warm. He knew he shouldn’t have worn it but out of some sort of habit, out of routine, Calum snagged the extra layer and now he was regretting it. It’s like his body finally caught up and he slips out of it.

“I thought we were studying, not getting a show,” Noa teases. The thought slips through her lips with a grin. She’ll admit that she does find Calum attractive. Most times he didn’t really flaunt his body or even his status in class and that made him even more attractive. But she didn’t think she’d ever have a shot. She didn’t really think she had one now all things considered but he was the one that asked her for help. But he had started it and she was just going to see if it would continue.

Calum feels the heat immediately flooding his cheeks. “It’s just warm, is all.”

“Kidding, sorry.” Her gaze flicks up from her screen. Her fingers are still going, the taps echoing amongst the silence of their room.

Calum recognizes that gaze, the smirk that tells him she is joking, but she is also not joking if he’s willing to take that step. Calum goes back to his laptop, he’s on nothing right now just staring at a blank google doc. But he makes the initiative to break the tension and ask her what her school email was. “We can just use a Google doc to make things easier.”

As she rattles it off, Calum adds her. Maybe Noa completely misread this. Maybe he really only wanted to help to study. It definitely was a hit to her pride. She almost felt like a deflated balloon as she typed down the last bullet point in her notes. “I’m going to print these out. I’ll be right back.”

Calum nods, watching her leave with her laptop in hand. His brows knit together. She sounded hurt and Calum feels like he could absolutely kick himself. Of course, he found Noa attractive. He would’ve made a move and even though he wasn’t technically getting a grade for this midterm he wanted to at least feel confident going into. God, he was an idiot. Even after all the partying, and all the girls before, Calum still finds a way to fuck something up--even innocent flirty.

Standing at the printer, Noa exhales. Just a hit to her pride, a hard hit too. But she wouldn’t chicken out. That’s for sure. She’d march back up there and she’d see this study session through. She could do that much. Maybe she could convince the girl to her left to switch seats come Monday. That way at the very least she wouldn’t feel awful going to class. She couldn’t drop the class now--not without a Withdraw showing up on her record. Professors weren’t too keen on adding students this late into the semester. Withdrawing, would thankfully, not hurt her graduation credit hours.

She almost wants to laugh. Just because some guy rejected her does not mean she had to drop a class. All she had to do was keep a level head about all of this. Even though asking to switch seats would be blasphemous, she still enjoyed the class. It was one of the few classes she could take each semester that were just for fun. She would not give that up just because Calum turned her down. As the last of the pages spits out from the printer, she grabs her stack. All she has to do is go over the notes. They don’t even have to stay in the room until 8.

The stairwell is stuffy as she ascends back to the second floor. She’s always hated them in the summer, the way the air clung to the sweat and humidity of the temperatures outside. Noa wasn’t sure who designed it but it was only ever the library stairs that felt so awful in the summer and even the early fall. She can see Calum with his head in his hands from the glass walls that separate open library from the study room. For half a second, she wonders if something is wrong--like with his dog. If that were the case, he could’ve just left.

“You alright?” she asks opening the door.

Calum, not even hearing the door, pops his head up. His heart thunders in his chest. He was wallowing in his own misery a little too deeply. “Yeah-yeah, I’m good.”

With a nod, Noa pulls at the silk tie around her twist and stares up at the quadrants on the whiteboard. “So the best place to start studying is just as the beginning of the coursework. Lame I know. But professors usually start there for a reason.”

There goes his window. Gone all within two minutes to print notes. He nods and flips to the starting poet. “So we have Frost,” Calum starts, the blue dry erase marker semi firmly gripped between his fingers.

“Start with basics. The year he was born, maybe what his life was like, his most famous works.”

Calum spins his chair to face the whiteboard, attempting to recall some of the biography from memory. It’s when the lulls hit that Noa steps in. He hears the table creak but he doesn’t turn. He can almost feel her leaning into it. He can see just how the tops of her exposed thighs, not dared to be hidden by her denim shorts, would squeeze and smush against the end of the table. The weather is still warm. It’s still perfect weather for shorts and skirts.

He turns his attention back to the task at hand though, listening to Noa speak behind him. “I’ve had this professor before. He’s a kind of lenient grader. But he wants to make sure you can back your shit up with context from the poem. You can’t say someone’s trying to talk about rainbows in their poem when they’re clearly allusions to chickens.”

Calum snorts at her point but nods. “Understood. Now this is going to sound dumb--”

Noa’s quick to cut him off. “No such thing as dumb questions.”

Calum turns, seeing her leaning on her hands on the table. One knee is resting on the chair she once sat. Her gaze is stuck on the whiteboard. For a brief second, Calum lets his gaze fall. The jade green of her top nestled against her dark skin and the way her breasts are almost threatening to spill over the flimsy material almost makes Calum forget his question. She was not wearing that before. She wore a white shirt, tied in the front. There was something green underneath it--he knows that. He clears his throat. “I assume you don’t mean illusions like magic tricks and I’m a little confused.”

Noa finally brings her gaze back down, pushing back upright realizing the position she’s in. “Allusions, they’re like indirect references. So you’re talking about a thing without actually stating what it is.” She picks up a different colored marker and writes the word down in the corner of the whiteboard not holding any information.

Calum watches the way her undershirt rises a little as she stretches up to write but flicks his gaze to the floor. “Think he’ll ask about those on the midterm?”

“He could,” she says and then leans against the table again. Calum stands. She’s too close and he’s at a bad angle to keep his focus on the material at hand.

Facing the spread of her notes, their laptops, and textbooks, Calum looks out over the sea without really seeing any of the details. He wants to make a move that shows he’s interested without it being too subtle or too brazen. Resting his weight onto his palms, he shakes the thought from his head. It’s probably too late now. “So, like, for example, a question could be what are allusions in whatever poem of his choice?”

“Yeah, but he’ll probably ask something more like compare and contrast.” Calum nods. He definitely feels a bit better about going into this exam than he did before. But he still feels like an idiot with Noa.

Noa turns her head just a little. Not a lot. Just enough to see the bucket hat still on his head and the way his face is almost entirely hidden. She knows though. She knows the cut of his jaw and the way his lips are a little chapped but mostly plump. As she stares at him, she does feel the urge to apologize. At least just to let him know that she didn’t mean to cross any lines and that she hopes there are no hard feelings. She can feel her heart thumping in her throat as she gently rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry about earlier,” she whispers. His head never raises and she drops her touch before going back to the whiteboard. “That was a poor taste joke.”

Calum’s breath hitches. It catches right on his inhale and he nearly chokes on it. “You don’t have to apologize.” His voice is soft, so much so that she barely catches it before turning to grab her phone to take a picture of their notes on the board.

“What?” She’s not believing her own ears. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I thought--I was sure I had crossed a line.”

“No, it didn’t make me uncomfortable.” His gaze is soft when it lands on her. Her brows are pulled together and he has to stop his hand from raising to smooth them over with his thumb. He feels the twitch, the pull to take her hand and he lets himself to that. Just gently brushing his fingers over her hand pressed into the table next to his.

“But-what?” She could’ve sworn the way he diverted the topic was a sign that she was pressing her luck.

“Really, I didn’t mind. I don’t mind.”

Noa shakes her head, the twist slipping over her shoulder a little. “I know I’m not a math major but this isn’t adding up.”

Calum really can’t tear his gaze away from her lips. They glisten a little, dark brown and a hint of pink from the saliva on her tongue as she licks them. It’s really lame, he thinks, that he’s this hesitant to make a move on her. But she hasn’t pulled away from him just yet so that must mean something. Maybe he could show her what he meant. “Is-Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Fuck. Oh fuck. Noa nods, she’s sure her eyes are blown wide. She’s not sure however that she’s breathing properly until the whisper of “Yes” falls from her lips. They inch closer together. Like stuttering traffic that stops and starts and soon there’s no more space to be hesitant. Their lips brush, slightly parted too. He can smell the chocolate she had earlier and it’s so sweet in his nose. Before the first kiss truly ends Calum reaches for her waist, turning her into him. He leans into the table, his back facing the door, and she leans into him.

Her arms loop around his neck, nails trailing at the edge of his t-shirt and his neck. It sends a shiver down his spine when her nails scratch at his skin. Calum encases her waist with his arms, pulling her into him. Her kiss tastes like the Hershey kiss and her skin is so soft beneath his fingers. When he breathes in, his nostrils are lined with the smell of coconut. An intoxicating scent if he’s going to associate it with her at all.

The sounds of their kisses, lips meeting and pulling apart before meeting again echo slightly around the room. She reaches up, pulling away from his lips just a little. Calum stretches out for her though, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth. She laughs, mostly from her chest before she gives in and recaptures his lips.

His cologne isn’t too strong. It’s got a hint of musky to it with some more floral overtones and Noa thinks she has to figure out the exact scent because she would love to just bathe in it. She doesn’t stop her previous movements though and pulls the hat up. Calum ducks his face into her shoulder and chest.

She didn’t expect a buzz cut but it looks good and she runs her hands over the back of his head. “Can’t kiss you if your face is buried in my shoulder.”

“But I can kiss you,” he counters, gently capturing the juncture of her neck and shoulder between his lips. The touch is so feather-light, almost as if her skin were made of glass. But it makes her hot and her heart strums steadily in her chest. It’s almost sad how the softest touch is turning her own. She’s glad for the moment Calum can’t see what effect this is having on her. It’s shameful how wet her underwear is.

Noa lets her head go as Calum kisses across her throat too, his tongue trails after the places his lips have touched first. Her hair brushes over Calum’s fingers, as they start to travel down to her ass, cupping her over the denim shorts. They hardly do much to stop the imagination from running wild. His fingertips run across her skin, digging into the crevice between the line of her ass and the tops of her thighs.

A moan escapes her. Noa doesn’t even feel the shame anymore. Not as her hand reaches between their bodies and trails up his chest. She cups his throat and pushes him up. His grin is lazy on his face, eyes heavy with lust. “So I see you really didn’t mind.”

“Not at all.” The vibrations of his voice tickle her palm but she doesn’t drop the hold and Calum doesn’t duck away from it. Would Noa let herself go? She could attempt to bring Calum back to her dorm though she’s not sure if Brooklyn is in the room. If so, that’s definitely an awkward shuffle to text Brooklyn and then walk all the way back to her room.

She drops her hand from his throat, before running it up under his shirt. He tenses for a moment at her touch but grins. Noa decides not to think too much about where things go and where they wind up at the moment. Instead, she kisses at his neck, running her tongue over his adam’s apple. Calum has to bite his lip just a little to keep the groan from escaping him so loudly. He knows she knows just what she’s doing as her nail scratch at his lower abdomen right along the band of his boxer briefs.

“I have another question,” Calum asks, a soft sigh escaping his lips when she kisses up to his ear.

“Which is?”

“I can only assume we’re not studying poetry anymore. But I just want to make sure it’s okay if I study your anatomy?”

Noa snorts, her laughter shaking her shoulders as she presses her face into Calum’s chest. “I told you I wouldn’t be won over by academic pick up lines but I’ll be damned if you don’t keep trying.”

“They seemed to work,” Calum takes the sides of her face into his hands. There’s still a grin on her face when she lets him pull her upwards a little. “Is that a yes though in all seriousness?”

“That’s a yes,” she sighs, enjoying the slight roughness at the tips of his fingers as he brushes them over her cheeks.

“How likely are we to get caught in here?”

“If we don’t make too much noise, pretty low. I mean, who else is coming to the library on Valentine’s Day?”

Calum presses her in close before pushing up with his hips and spinning them around. He clears away a spot before hoisting her to the table. “I must admit, I like the sounds of those odds.”

Calum stands between her legs. She spies a set of chains around his neck and pulls them out, gently holding the gold and silver chains in her palms. She’s not sure what they mean, the symbols on the black enamel or the gold plate but they look good hanging around his chest. “Sentimental?”

Calum runs his fingers over the strip of skin just under the edge of her green tank top and the top of her shorts. “Yeah.”

The subject is dropped rather quickly and she kisses the underside of his jaw. Her fingers find the hem of Calum’s t-shirt. He pulls the black tee up without much thought and she lets her hands wander of the expanse of his chest. She lingers at his tattoos. She doesn’t question those either. Just admires them and the way the black ink stands out on his golden skin. There’s a moment, in the back of her mind, that she’s acutely aware of how much darker she is compared to him. It's a thing she’s always been aware of for sure, it’s a general fact about herself that is generally inescapable. But she’s not sure why it matters now.

Calum can see her mind wandering and he tips her chin. “You can always say no. It’s okay.” He doesn’t want her to feel pressured. It won’t hurt him at all if she backs out of this. He’d rather her protect herself than worry about him.

“It’s just--a thing, a small thing. Nothing to do about this.”

“You sure?”

Noa nods, flicking her twists over her shoulder. Calum raises an eyebrow at her, a silent question. “I’m very sure,” she says, tugging at the band of his pants.

There’s a soft chuckle he gives and nods, satisfied with her answer. “I was going to break out another taboo pickup line.”

Noa gets a grip around his neck and brings him down. Her kiss is soft and slow before she pulls back just a little. Their lips brush as she speaks. “As much as I hate those, they are effective. So I hate that fact a little more.”

Calum dares to bring his hands down, under the shorts and underwear. What he finds makes him groan into her lips. She’s dripping onto his fingers. “Very effective,” he whispers, teasing her heat with his fingers as he collects just a little taste of her onto his fingers. She watches through slightly hooded eyes as Calum licks his fingers. “God,” he huffs.

He goes back to get yank the shorts and panties. She pushes herself up to assist and Calum wastes no time slipping down to his knees. Noa reclines back, hands pressing down into the table and the edge of a notebook. Calum takes a generous lick from her. She’s sweet on his tongue and all he wants is to drown in the arousal she drips.

Noa shudders at the first touch and she’s glad she’s facing the whiteboard and not the window because the look on her face, of pleasure and also desperation is a sight for sore eyes. It’s been a long time since she’s been with anyone. Her breakup sophomore year kind of scorned her. She’s had the offers at parties or even out at bars, but never took them. Right now, the way she’s responding to Calum should be embarrassing but it’s the last thought on her mind.

All Noa wants and can think about is how Calum’s tongue flicks against her clit, the way his lips wrap around it to give it a gentle suck before planting a kiss. “Shit,” she heaves, trying to keep from being too loud. It’s not lost on her that too much noise will get them caught. But god is her rock shaking at the feeling of Calum’s tongue working at her. It’s going to be the end of her, she thinks, staring up at the ceiling attempting to keep her breathing under control.

Calum feels her thighs starting to shake and he throws them over his shoulder. She falls deeper into her recline. Every lewd slurp echoes. The first finger into her is all too easy to get inside and he works the second one in while teasing her clit with his tongue. It’s a moment, with a breathy instruction of “Back and up,” before he’s brushing over her g-spot. Her vision spots for a moment and she presses her lips together to swallow down her own moan.

“Fuck,” she whines when Calum sucks at her clit. The knot in her stomach grows, she can feel the heat radiating from the top of her head to her toes. She’s going to make a mess. She can feel it bubbling in her lower stomach but she can’t find the words to warn him as she works to keep her cries in her chest.

It’s evident though when she finds the edge and falls over it. Her legs close in around Calum’s head. He works her through the orgasm, gentle licks. Calum kisses over her inner thighs before pulling his fingers from her. She’s spent above him, panting. But she stops him-- a hand tight around his wrist and brings his fingers to her mouth.

“You wouldn’t?”

Noa says nothing before licking her own arousal from his fingers. Calum shouldn’t be so turned on by her tasting herself but he swears he could nearly come from just the way she hums around his digits. It makes him wonder for a moment what else she can do with that tongue. She grins when she releases his fingers from her mouth with a lewd pop. “I would.”

Calum stays on his knees, watching carefully as she slips off the table and back into her underwear and shorts. She taps at the chair. “Take a seat.”

He pushes up and into the chair. “You really could’ve just left those off.”

Noa bites her lip at the thought. “Even though I’m young, I’m not dumb. I never re-upped on condoms in my backpack and unless you have some. I think you’ll be pleased with my compromise.”

Calum mimes zipping his lips shut and tossing away the key. He nearly forgot about that and that’s not a risk he wants to take either. No matter much the idea seems tempting he knows that the potential consequences are not worth it. Noa doesn’t waste any time, to tie her hair back or get Calum’s pants and underwear down either. She’s not really sure what she expected but he’s more than he lets on and her mouth drools at the thought.

She kisses his tip, the tip leaking just a little. Calum sighs, dropping his head back on his neck. He doesn’t really want her to tease him like this. But it does feel good. How gentle she’s being. The way she’s slow to coat him with her saliva. He exhales harshly when he slips into her mouth and when she doesn’t stop but continues on Calum groans. “Fucking hell.” It’s as if she could just swallow him whole and her mouth is so warm too.

Noa hums a little at the taste and weight of him. She looks at through her lashes and keeps her eyes nice and big, playing innocent at the way Calum huffs above her. He blinks his eyes just enough to see her batting her lashes and he’s so tempted again to pull out of her mouth and just fuck her right here. He’s sure her pussy is just as good as her mouth, if not better. Another moan is crawling up his chest and Calum inhales to keep it from falling over his lips. She pulls back from him, swirling her tongue just around the top. Her fist pumps at him. Calum knows he won’t last. His head is starting to float and he’s reaching out for anything and everything to keep ground.

He finds Noa instead, the very thing lifting his consciousness from his body. But it’s all he has to attempt to ground him. Calum lets one choked moan fall over his lips. “God,” he heaves like he’s been underwater for too long and is getting the first gulps of air again. His eyes screw up as she takes him back down and bobs her head along his length. The sounds of her slurping up her excess saliva are a little loud but he prays that they don’t echo too much before he cums.

That’s all he wants. Just release. That bliss of orgasm. His toes are curling and he’s holding a little tighter to Noa he knows. But he can’t help it. His hips raise up from the seat, bucking into her and she has to readjust her angle to keep him down. But Calum’s so fucking close. He can feel it. His thighs are tensing and he’s nearly in tears with how badly he desires to cum. She’s toying with him, speeding up to build up that pressure--that need, but slowing down just enough to keep it far enough away.

“Oh, please, please,” he begs. There is definitely a prickle of tears. Noa knows she’s playing with fire but she pulls back one last time, watching the way his jaw tense and he hisses, the air sucked in between his teeth. “I wasn’t-I wasn't this mean to you.”

Noa winks at him. Calum knows he’s going to have to do something to wipe that smirk off her face somehow. “Wanted to see how much you could take.” She says nothing else and finally takes him back into her mouth, hand and mouth pumping at him. He goes barreling towards his orgasm. He halfway expects her to pull away again when he finds his hips bucking again but she doesn’t. Calum holds her head tight and pours down the back of her throat.

Noa brings him over the edge and she’s gentle, slightly suckling to get down every drop. When she finally brings her head away, she does leave a small kiss. The air is thick and Calum exhales, attempting to bring his vision back into focus. He nearly has to make sure that it’s actually his soul that comes back to him. Noa hands him a tissue and then excuses herself for just a moment to the restroom.

When she returns, the table is clearned for the most part. Her books are neatly stacked and her laptop is sitting on top of the sleeve. The dry erase markers and erasers sit at the top of her pile too. Calum is dressed again, leaning against the table with the bucket hat back on his head. He watches her open the door with a tiny smile. The whiteboard’s been erased too. “Did you get a picture of the--” Calum nods before she finishes the full question.

She’s not sure if she should move from the spot at the door but Calum’s gaze is intense so she waits. “I’m not going to bite unless you ask for it,” he grins. “How far away do you stay from here?”

“I live on campus actually. It’s like a fifteen minute walk to the other side.”

“I’m parked not too far from the English building. How about a ride and a round two?”

“For studying poetry or anatomy?” There’s no hiding her grin as she asks the question.

Calum’s impressed at the wit. “I would say, after what I’ve seen and tasted today, I would call it poetry.”

She has to cast her gaze down. Because if not, she’s going to explode at delivery of the compliment. “Just don’t make any joke about tasting desire twice or I might nickname you Frost and I don’t think you’d appreciate that.”

Calum laughs and reaches out a hand. She takes it, stepping into him. She gazes up, the shadow of the bucket hat making the moment seem more private. “I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Of course you are.”

The ride over is nerve wrecking. But the gentle pressure of Calum’s hand on her thigh keeps her just enough on the string that it doesn’t matter. Brooklyn agrees to give her the room until 10. It’s a little after six currently. Plenty of time but still. It’s not fun being sexiled. Noa makes a mental note to grab a few snacks on her next grocery run as a thank you to Brooklyn. The AC blasting in Calum’s car is Noa’s saving grace. The slight chill is welcomed to the warmth still radiating from her body.

She directs him to turn right at the next intersection. “It’s pretty out here,” Calum notes. The buildings follow the same brick patterns as most other buildings on the campus. But there are some trees that stand tall and it feels a little cozy. Noa hums and she directs him down to a parking lot. It’s not that far down from her actual dorm. The walk feels longer though for Noa, feeling Calum right behind her. Calum follows with quick glances the way her ass shakes a little with her gait. The shorts are definitely higher than they were before and he’s sure that was done purposefully.

Noa fishes out her keys and swipes into the building before directing Calum up the flight of stairs on the side. Their shoes echo as they ascend. Her room is the first one once they step outside from the stairwell. “I apologize now if it’s a mess,” Noa says with her key in the door. She’s praying that Brooklyn’s side isn’t a disaster.

Thankfully at the first crack, the room is cool and clean. She carries past one bed to the second pushed against the wall near the window. Calum notes the white and black comforter and the posters decorating her wall. There are string lights and after a moment they twinkle off the white plaster of the walls.

“Putting on the full works, huh?” Calum drops his hat and bag next to her desk. They shed shoes. Her bed is raised so she pulls out a step stool.

“Something like that.”

Calum cups her jaw. “I’m flattered.” Their kisses are still heated but less desperate. Both of them are aware of what’s happening and what’s going to happen. Calum pulls at the knot of her white shirt and pushes it off her shoulders. Maybe it was a little insane. Maybe it was the fact that Calum was a little tired of being lonely on Valentine’s Day even though he hated the whole institution of the holiday.

Whatever it was that brought him here to peeling Noa out of her shirt and revealing her breasts to him didn’t really matter. Because he was okay with it. He cups one of her breasts, teasing the bud with his fingers and he kisses along her neck. He feels her heart races with his tongue. “Love it don’t you?”

Noa hums, pulling around his shoulders. “Maybe.”

He laughs into her skin. She climbs up onto the bed first and Calum sheds his shirt before climbing up behind her. On the corner of her desk near the bed, he spies the box of condoms. Multiple boxes actually. He reaches over her to one of them. He’s going to drag this out just to have her begging like she did with him. “This is quite the collection.”

Noa knows part of this is payback but she reaches up running her hands over his sides to get him to come back to her. Calum resists the temptation to look down and kiss her again. If she does all his resolve will break. He studies another box and she lifts her head from her pillow finding one of his nipples and sucking it into her mouth. Two can play this game. And Noa knows that while she’s aching for me, she might have a better chance of riding this game out than Calum.

Calum drops his head for a moment, letting the electricity of her touch travel up his body. One hand creeps up to his crotch, putting just enough pressure onto his growing erection. He’s so fucking screwed. Noa kisses across his chest, soft ones that barely make contact with his skin. “I’m going to be giving a pop quiz about the varieties I have. So study up,” she jokes before pulling her hand away.

His laughter is soft above her. “I won’t be won over by academic pickup lines.”

“You were being stubborn and I had to try something.”

“You teased me. Don’t dish out what you can’t handle.”

“I can handle plenty,” she retorts pushing at his shoulder.

Calum straddles her lower legs, popping the button on her shorts yet again. “Is that so?” The question is punctuated by him pulling her shorts and panties off. His fingers waste no time to part her and circle her entrance. Her back sinks into the mattress and her hips rise. Calum catches the small hard exhale of all her air leaving her lungs.

Calum hovers over her, one arm keeping his weight steady while he teases her. His lips brush over her jaw. “What was that?” His question is answered by a moan that falls over Noa’s throat. He kisses down her throat, sucking just a hair too hard at the thin skin. It doesn’t leave a bruise but when Calum pulls way, there’s a red spot for sure on her skin.

Noa lets herself be consumed by the way his stubble scratches over her skin. Calum kisses down the valley of her breasts. His teeth graze over her nipples. Maybe he’s better at the game than she thought he was. She liked to think she was tough, but Noa knows deep down the softest touch can turn her into putty. She doesn’t find it within herself to care when he flicks her nipple with the tip of her tongue.

Calum drinks in every sound. She sounds so good beneath him at the mercy of his whims. Though he knows he’s going to give in soon. Soon his own tough act will dissolve and all he’s want is her to be thoroughly fucked. Calum carries down her body, kissing over her stomach before finding her heat again. All it takes is one lick, bottom to the top and Noa shakes, her thighs quiver and Calum knows he has her.

Her hands find his neck though. She pulls him up before pushing up and Calum falls into the mattress. She works his pants down and kisses over his thighs as she goes. Her teeth are sharp when she takes a bite, nothing too hard, but it’s enough. It’s enough for Calum to know she’s serious. He’s serious too. His arm hooks around her neck once the pants are fully disrobed. “Come here,” he murmurs and she settles on his lower torso.

Noa could lose herself in Calum’s kisses and never want to find a map out. Calum traces at her skin with the tips of his fingers as if trying to etch the roadmap of her into his memory. Noa reaches behind and strokes Calum’s length, almost too leisurely, like she knows she can just take her time with him. He lets her too. What else does he have to lose? What else does Calum have to do on such a bullshit holiday than just having some fun?

He does enjoy that this isn’t rushed. He’s also glad he’s not tipsy and neither is she. There’s something about alcohol and sex that never quite worked for Calum, though he’ll admit to some days waking with hickeys and blaming the vodka almost immediately. He likes the intimacy that they share, as crazy as it sounds. Like the way Noa looks at him after they break away from a kiss. She doesn’t look crazed or greedy, her eyes cradle him almost. She traces over his tattoos.

The questions linger on her lips. Like what does ‘Choose Life’ really mean to Calum? Who was Mali? To whom did those initials belong too? But Noa knew those were questions she couldn’t ask. And she kind of liked the mystery of it. She liked knowing Calum but not getting the full picture. She had the frame. She has the beautiful man in front of her but she didn’t have his mind. She saw bits of it in class for sure. When he finally decided to speak. But that was a piece that would always linger behind the curtain.

It was still a game for sure. Calum giving away what he wanted to give of himself but keeping everything else. Noa knew better than to think she could win that game. She knew better than to assume she could even be a player. It seemed cliche to think that maybe just maybe she could be the one to change that. That had to be loneliness talking though. It always crept in on days like this. At least for the moment, she was having her own fun.

Her own fun--that’s all she needs to focus on right now. Noa reaches across Calum’s body to her desk and he uses the moment to bring the nipple and even part of her tit into his mouth, to tease her for just a moment longer. She barely keeps her grip on the box of condoms at the shiver running through her body. “Fuck,” she breathes.

Calum hums at the praise and pinches her right nipple between his fingers. “You know,” he starts, tracing the swell of her breast with his fingers. “You do this thing when you’re thinking, where you bit the inside of your lip and you kind of zone out.”

Why is Calum so fucking observant? Why did he have to go and say that? He was really digging her grave. He might as well go and build the casket for her too. “I’m not backing out of this.”

“I was just saying,” he hums.

“When you’re thinking you tend to play with whatever is in your hands,” Noa returns and then glances down her nipple, the way his fingers roll it and pinch. A moan builds in her chest--she can feel it. Calum immediately pulls his hand away. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

The grin that takes over his face is shy. Noa kisses his nose before tearing a condom from it’s foiled package. “How about a ride?” she grins.

Calum has to laugh at the smirk and corny joke. But he agrees. “I hope I’m tall enough for it.”

“More than tall enough,” she laughs, rolling the condom done him. It’s the first sink, the stretch that makes Noa’s eyes nearly roll back into her head. Calum finds her hips, exhaling hard too at the squeeze and warmth of her.

“Fuck,” they both exhale. Her pace is slow to start but Calum brushes everything inside of her, even parts that she didn’t even know could be brushed. It’s a little painful but the adjustment happens and all Noa’s concerned with is watching Calum fall apart beneath her. His fingers curl into the fat and muscle of her hips and thighs.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo about the room and Noa releases the hiss, the only thing she can do at the feeling of Calum buried so deep inside of her. It’s true bliss when her pace picks up and Calum watches her tits bounce in time. “Fuck, just like that,” he encourages.

It’s not easy work Noa will admit but it’s rewarding to hear how strained Calum’s voice is. How much he’s tittering closer and closer to the edge. Calum brings his fingers to her clit and her yelp, part surprise, part an exhalation of arousal, he hums. “That what you needed? Just a little attention for a greedy clit?”

Noa sighs, holding herself upon his chest. “But you like it, don’t you? You’re coming to cum for me and my greedy clit, aren’t you?”

He is. Not right now, but soon. It’s creeping up on him and god, will it be sweet. He brings her head down to kiss her, to swallow down every filthy sound she makes and save it for later in his chest. Calum plants his feet into the mattress and meets her bounces with his own thrust. “Oh, shit,” she whines, her voice straining at the added sensation. Time starts to lose its grip. They are just feeling bodies.

It’s soon her face down into the mattress though, curling the sheets into her fist as Calum drives into her. “God, please,” she groans, feeling the twinge of her orgasm knotting at her lower stomach.

Calum brings her up, her back into his chest with a hand tucked around her throat. It’s not tight and soon it drops to her nipples again. “Tell me what you need.”

“Just you,” she exhales. “Just you, Calum.”

His fingers dance over her sex. She clenches once, a sign of the impending orgasm that will be crashing over it. Calum kisses along her shoulders and across her back, the twists in the way don’t even matter. Not when he can feel her occasional spasms. He’s not going to last much longer. But he wants to get her there first. With a little more pressure at her clit, Noa grabs Calum's thigh. Another whine falls over her throat and she again lacks the warning.

She cums with a heavy grunt scratching over her throat. Calum bites down onto her shoulder. His orgasm follows soon after thanks to her spasms. After they clean up, she falls into her sheets and Calum lays for just a minute. Just to catch his breath and he traces over the still red marks of his teeth. “Is it too much if I offer to buy pizza?” Noa asks, curled up into his chest. “Does seal the fate on Valentine’s Day as well when you’re single?”

Calum laughs. “It’s definitely sealed the fate on many of them for me in the past. But I should probably get home. Be an adult, even if I don’t want to be.”

Noa nods. It’s a little awkward when Calum has to crawl over her to climb down off the bed but all she does is giggle before kissing his cheek. Calum finds his shirt and she tosses him his underwear from the sheets. “I should write a personal note to Calvin Klein for that underwear. Your ass is ten out ten in those.

Calum shakes his head, his laughter loud. “And out of them?”

“Seven out of ten.”

“I should be offended.”

Noa shrugs, holding the sheets to her chest. “Alas, you don’t seem to be though.”

With the bucket hat situated back over his head, Calum shrugs. “Guess I’m not if it’s coming from you. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

She nods. “Sure.” Calum’s hand doesn’t quite reach the door before she calls out her next question. “You remember how to get out of here right?”

“Something tells me it’s like the same way I came in? But I’m not too sure.”

“Smartass,” she grumbles.

Calum chews on his lip for a moment to hide the smile. He was worried him leaving would be awkward. But he finds himself not wanting to go really. He thinks he could split a pizza with her. What would be the worst that would happen? But he doesn’t want to push any more boundaries or piss off her roommate.“Bye, Noa.”

“Bye, Calum.”

***********

Now Noa is definitely worried after not seeing Calum on Monday that he freaked out about their hookup. She didn’t have his number and emailing him was out of the question. Emailing wasn’t the format to have the ‘what-happened-and-why-are-you-avoiding-me’ conversation. Everything seemed fine when Calum left. He even sent a thank you email when she sent him the notes she typed up from their study session. He had included the blowing a kiss emoji. That had to mean something. It had to. Even Brooklyn said it meant something. Sure Brooklyn was no expert. But who sends that kind of emoji unless they mean something behind it?

Though when Monday rolled around, Calum wasn’t to be seen. Today was Wednesday, the day of their midterm. Noa books it from her class in the science building but because of some rain, there is a mud spot and she slips. She doesn’t fall, thankfully catching herself on the edge of the brick wall but she knows the feeling of her pants splitting literally anywhere.

Her shirt is most definitely not long enough to cover it and she can’t be late for the exam. So she carries on, wishing she had grabbed an extra layer to help save her from the embarrassment. First Calum ghosts her and now her pants rip. Today’s really not her day. Not that she needed it to be her day, but she would’ve liked it.

Taking a quick moment to assess the damage, Noa feels behind. The hole is mostly towards her inner thighs but it does gape a little to the back and she’s mortified that half her ass is hanging out. She hopes this is the icing on her cake. She’d really rather not have too much else to her shit cake. This was more than enough shit for any one particular day.

Just a few minutes before class starts, she opens the door to the classroom. The professor stands at the podium, exam in hand. Her eyes scan the room briefly and there’s Calum. His head down and she’s sure that he had to have heard the door opening but he doesn’t look up. There’s nowhere else to sit either, except for her spot right next to him. And she’s not going to cause a scene on midterm day either.

She’s careful as she sits, to avoid further splitting, and slips off her backpack. She keeps her back turned and fishes out a pen, black ink this time. Just as she faces forward, a Hershey’s kiss and peppermint are placed in front of her. Calum grins, pulling the wireless headphones from his ears. “My mum used to give me peppermints before a test. She said it was supposed to help. I don’t know the exact science.”

Maybe Calum didn’t hate her? It definitely is a shock for him to be talking so casually. She’s happy though. She’d rather not have to shun Calum. She liked his stupid ass jokes and maybe, just maybe, she was letting herself get a little too close. That was a disaster she’d deal with later though. “Were you sick on Monday or something?” Something was going around and if Calum had caught it, she did worry that she would too,

He shakes his head. “A gig ran late Sunday. I just emailed my professors that I wouldn’t be able to come in on Monday. I realized I needed the notes from Monday but I didn’t want it to seem like I was just using you. So I’m sorry about you not hearing from me after I said I would.”

Noa reaches into her backpack and pulls out a small bag of peppermints. There was just a misunderstanding. She can handle that. “My mom used to say the same thing.” She situates the bag between them. “In case you need another one during the exam. Also, I can give you my number.” She finds a scrap piece of paper and writes it down. Calum saves it fast and sends her a text too so she has his number.

As the professor starts to hand out the exam, only a list of four questions of which they’ll pick two to respond too, Calum feels the slight jitters coming back. Noa notices and slides her piece of chocolate over to him. They lock gazes for a brief moment and smile, both reminded of the last time chocolate was involved.

The questions aren’t too hard. The practice ones Noa came up with fall right in line with what she said the professor would ask. She finishes first between the two of them and leaves the bag of peppermints. Calum notices her awkward shuffle and the hole in her jeans. He can’t use his phone to tell her to wait up but he’s almost done himself. So he scribbles down the last few sentences for his question and quickly gathers his things.

From the pocket of his backpack, he feels his phone vibrate. He hands over his exam and slips out of the front door. Noa’s not in sight so he digs out his phone, stepping out into the bright sunlight. She’s not even halfway down the path, stopped by someone else as they chat for a moment. He thinks it’s her roommate, she looks familiar and the two laugh before going their separate ways.

“Noa,” Calum calls out to her and she turns. These stairs aren’t as steep and he’s quick to get down them. Calum reaches into his backpack, revealing a sweatshirt and hands over her bag peppermints. “You can use this until you get back to get new pants.”

“I have a meeting with my advisor and then a club meeting. I was just going to tell them I’ll be a few minutes late to our meeting.”

“No, no, keep it. It’s okay. I don’t want you to be late.”

“I won’t be able to get it back to you until Friday.”

“I could come to pick it up too before then?”

Noa knows that look, the glint in his eyes as she ties the sweatshirt around her waist. “My last class tomorrow ends at 2.”

“I’ll pick you up from class. Just text me the building. We can study. I heard it’s Valentine’s Day.

“That’s about a week late.”

“I was always bad at math,” Calum jokes. “You think I should sign up for one next semester?” Noa laughs as she steps backward from Calum. Of course, he would make another joke. They get her every time too. “Is that a yes though?”

“That is a yes. To Thursday and to you needing a math class.”

“Ouch.” He holds a hand to his chest, faking pain.

She twirls before throwing a wave over her shoulder. “Bye, Calum.”

“Bye, Noa.” He wipes out his phone, watching her walk down the bricked over paths. Next time you don’t have to split your pants to get my attention.

She stops and spins around, fingers flying over the keys. I can and will take this hoodie hostage.

“That’s my favorite hoodie,” he shouts at her.

“Not my problem, sweetheart.”

“It absolutely is your problem.”

“My problem is that I’m going to be late.”

___________

Tagging: @irwinkitten @5-secondsofcolor @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @glitterlukey

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coinofstone · 4 years

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3x12 The Coming of Arthur pt 1

The title is such low hanging fruit I feel bad cracking a joke about it.

It's a quest episode! I love a quest episode. Srsly feel free to send me any and all Merthur quest fics. I can't get enough 😂

This is the episode responsible for the lovely Leon fanon headcanon that he's immortal. Always handy in an Arthur Returns fic.

Uther: you must go on this mission alone

Arthur: *brings Merlin*

I do love Merlin being being a smart alec and nagging Arthur while packing. Excellent banter.

Arthur said

Arthur threatening a young boy like this is such an ugly and uncharacteristic action it makes me angry.

Merlin tending to Arthur while he's sick and injured 🥺

Also I'm sorry but Merlin shows fuckin Gilli his magic but he's hiding it from fuckin Gwaine while Arthur is suffering? Silly.

Cenred's massive army makes me wonder if it's a result of his tolerance of magic or lower standards than the knights of Camelot, or some combination of both.

Poor Leon, though. He's just got back from near death in that forest and Uther sends him right fuckin back in 😂

Looks like they snuck in to Camelot via the dragon's cave. I doubt that was the intention but I still approve 😂

Knowing he's on a suicide mission, Arthur gives Merlin an out, knowing he'll never take it, knowing he doesn't even want him to: he still presents him with the choice.

How come literally everyone else gets a crown that fits them but Arthur walks around looking like he's wearing hand-me-downs?

Morgana might be evil but she looks damn good on a throne.

3x13 The Coming of Arthur pt 2

There's a post going around Twitter about ppl who nitpick at TV shows... this comment falls into exactly that category 100% but I'm sorry, I cannot just ignore the fact that Morgana's got these massive banners and an entire army's worth of uniforms, I mean look:

Every guard with the sigil on his uniform and half a dozen banners in the council chambers alone. That's to say nothing of the ones outside. I mean look at the sheer fuckin size of these things:

Look how tiny the ppl are next to em! They've gotta be at least 15 feet long, at least. Where did they come from? Were they all magicked into existence? Who designed that sigil? What does it represent? Is it Gorlois' banner? I HAVE QUESTIONS.

Leon isn't someone I've ever been particularly attracted to, personally, but his defiant shout of "Long Live the King" in the face of Morgana's threats, is sexy as hell.

Depressed Arthur is such a mood.

So. Gwen. Originally in 3x12 when Morgana essentially invited Gwen into the fold (insofar as a Queen's servant can be), it seems to be a set up, because Morgana has been treating Gwen like shit for ages, why would she suddenly want her friend back? Especially since Morgana knows something is going on between Gwen and Arthur - there's no way she believes that they were actually under the spell of some random sorcerer, that just doesn't make any sense. So you kind of assume - or at least I did - that Morgana is keeping Gwen close knowing that she'll be useful as bait or a hostage, just essentially as a person of value to Arthur. She's known Gwen for too long to actually believe she'd cross Arthur, there's just no way someone as machiavellian as Morgana doesn't see Gwen's 'loyalty' as a simple survival tactic. All of this is to say, when Morgana and Morgause eavesdrop on Gwen's conversation with Sir Leon, Morgana is just like, 'welp, she's betrayed me. Guess I'll kill her in the morning.' as though she was actually expecting Gwen to do anything else?!?! Like, why? It would've made so much more sense to just cut that line entirely and go straight to something like

Morgana: it's as we suspected, she's betrayed me

Morgause: yes, now she can lead us straight to Arthur

And it would've made so much more sense than the weird sort of purgatory they've implied where Morgana changed her mind about Gwen very suddenly the night before she took the throne. It's not a super important detail in the overarching story but it's another example of how carelessly their story has been handled.

Me rn:

I do love that they made Freya the Lady of the Lake, and that she kept her promise by telling Merlin how to defeat the army of the dead.

How Merlin really sees Kilgharrah:

Gwen really is the smartest of all of them.

I do love that Merlin's first undead kill with excalibur is entirely an accident lol

The subtext between Morgana and Morgause is really gross. I haven't said anything before because I generally don't approve of ship shaming but the not so subtle subtext gives me the heebies.

This is such a great shot

Everything about it, his woman at his left and his man at his right, his romantic rival opposite him on his wife's side, as directly opposite her as possible at a round table with an uneven number of placements. It's a really beautiful shot, fitting for an equally beautiful scene. It's a very moving scene, the music really adds the exact emotion you'd expect for this moment we all recognize... and I feel like the knights' oaths are very well matched. The snarky part of me wanted to make a 'call me maybe' joke about Percival, but he's so sincere I just can't do it. The moment of levity added by Merlin's banter with Arthur is really, really well paced. Honestly I think it's probably the next perfect, iconic scene since Gwen and Arthur's first kiss. Hats off to this crew.

(Don't worry dear reader, I'm sure I'll get back to complaining shortly)

Santiago is so dreamy. I'd share his bedroll any day.

I like that despite all the talk of equality and doing the thing Uther wouldn't approve of, Gwen still worries about the company seeing her and Arthur kiss. Like, he's planning an insurrection with a bunch of commoners and two dudes who've been officially banished from Camelot, but she's internalized the classism and the rules of royalty so deeply that even amongst friends she instinctively keeps their relationship hidden. I'm not sure how intentional that was but it's brilliant.

The fight big fight scene with Merlin just barely missing the cup while the knights are cornered, and Gaius showing up like the brilliant deus ex machina that he is, honestly makes the previous budget-slashed episodes more bearable. Because this really is great, even knowing it's great at the expense of those others.

Morgana's screeching is eerily similar to Aithusa's.

I wonder if they knew they were getting renewed for a fourth season when they wrote this. Because you know, it really could've worked as a series finale as well. An open-ended series finale, but a series finale all the same.

As a Queens kid, I cannot explain to you the joy it gives me to watch Arthur and Merlin just chillin on the steps to the castle as tho it were a stoop, which I suppose, in a sense... it kind of is. Ahhh youthful days.

Commentary is Jeremy Webb and Julian Murphy.

And this kids, is why we're watching with commentary! They've just explained that Morgana's sigil is supposed to symbolize the Rowan tree that's supposed to be at the heart of the Isle of the Blessed. That suggests she designed it herself, so there's at least one of my earlier questions answered.

They talk a lot about how Emila Fox was very pregnant when they were filming her in this season, and they shot entirely around it - and I can't help but feel anger toward Joss Whedon and his 'handling' of Charisma Carpenter's pregnancy during S4 of Angel.

One of them called the round table scene 'curiously moving' and I think that is really fitting. They'd had this in mind for about two years, which is probably why it's so extraordinary. That's a great gestation period for a scene as iconic as this.

One final tidbit: the sword in the stone was filmed in France, and made it back to Wales intact. I guess nobody wanted to take it out. That's kind of an interesting thought, like a little set superstition or something. It's kind of cute.

The DVD extras/special features will get a separate post if I feel I have comments worth sharing.

#bbc merlin #bbc merlin spoilers #merlin #merlin spoilers #merthur #3x12 #bbc merlin 3x12 #merlin 3x12 #3x13 #bbc merlin 3x13 #merlin 3x13 #the coming of Arthur #the coming of Arthur part one #the coming of Arthur part two #the coming of Arthur pt 1 #the coming of Arthur pt 2 #i cannot believe that's the actual title of this episode #onceandfuturerewatch

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claymorecut · 4 years

Text

Patrol

A/N: It's been ages since I Iast wrote a GinTsu fanfic. So, yeah. Here I am. Back with another gintsu fic I’ve been working on. I still am not very confident about my writing so...yeah. I'm sorry if the characters look too OOC. Hope you guys enjoy my somewhat average(?) writing ^_^!

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

Tsukuyo’s patrols were nothing new to Gintoki.

Whether it was before the war or after, looking after Yoshiwara and Hinowa’s safety was her first priority. Everytime he visited, for one reason or another, he would see her, talk to her, have his usual silly argument and by nighttime hear her say “I’m out for patrol” to Hinowa before leaving the teahouse.

Yeah, it was her routine. Work. Some peace of mind. And then again, work. Really, was that woman going to work herself to death!?

It was gonna be the same this evening as well when Gintoki decided to visit Yoshiwara, simply because he was getting bored in his house all alone when the kids were away and he had nothing to do, literally. Arriving, he found Seita and Hinowa alone in the teahouse doing their work.

No signs of the drunk terminator.

It had happened before, many times, when he would visit and she wouldn’t be present, running across the district to chase away criminals. After all, unlike him, she was a pretty busy woman. And yet, he couldn’t held onto his curiosity a little longer.

“So, where is she?” Gintoki asked, sipping tea from his cup.

“Who knows."Hinowa replied. "She went out during noon, telling me she had some business to attend. But hasn’t returned yet.”

Gintoki continued to eat his dango while staring at the crowded street. Even Hinowa didn’t know where she was, and even if she did he wasn’t going to dig any further. It wasn’t his place to pry, after all.

“I think she visited his grave today.”

Hinowa’s words caught his attention as he stared back at her with his usual dead eyes. “It’s been four years today you know.”

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

It was night by the time Gintoki finally decided to leave the tea house. Really, Hinowa perfectly knew how to bribe him with her oh-so-sweet smile and four strawberry parfaits. Smiles aside, he could never say no to parfaits! And so, he got stuck with Seita, helping him with his studies.

And the whole time, still no sign of Tsukuyo.

It was late already and Gintoki wasn’t really planning to stay the night there just for her sake. When Hinowa told him about her visit outside, he knew pretty well. No matter what happened that day, she still considered him her master. And forgave him for his sins as well. After all, he knew that feeling pretty well too.

Walking down the streets, he kept his gaze forward, glancing at the rooftops once in a while just to check whether she was there yet or not. Finally, he found someone standing on the rooftop of one of the high-top buildings, her figure glistening with moonlight as she took another puff from her kiseru. Without giving a second thought, he turned around that building to meet the infamous leader of Hyakka.

The least he could do was say hello.

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

A gust of cold breeze relieved the night sky as the chitter-chatter continued on the streets of the former City of Nights. Amongst the voices and laughs was the sound of a certain someone wheezing in pain as he climbed the final step of the building.

Even the great Shiroyasha was no match against one hundred and fifty stairs. Seriously, where are the elevators in this building!?

Finally reaching the rooftop while cursing and panting, Gintoki stood there with one of his hand on his right knee and other on the rooftop door as he tried to calm his racing heart. He really didn’t want to admit it but he was growing old after all. Catching up his breath, he looked at the woman standing in front of him. Her back facing him as she continued to stare at the starry night sky, with the crescent-shaped moon shining above, partially lightening their surrounding.

“Out for patrol?"Gintoki asked, after finally composing himself.

Tsukuyo turned around in surprise to find the silver-haired samurai looking at her way. "Watcha doin’ here”?

"I guess I was the first one to ask."he replied, walking towards her.

Tsukuyo glared back as he now stood beside her. "Just had some business ta take care of.” She replied anyway.

Gintoki hmmed at her response. “What ‘bout ya? What brought ya here tonight?” She asked.

Grinning, he turned around to look at her with his response prepared. “Oh, nothing. Just thought you ladies must be missing your Gin-san so here I am. Paying you ladies a visit.”

Tsukuyo just smirked at his cocky response. “Ya were alone and gettin’ bored, weren’t ya?”

Gintoki couldn’t help those red fumes warming up on his face with embarrassment as she completely saw through his childish lie. “Yeah, yeah. I was getting bored and so just came here to look for some company.” He pouted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Got a problem with that?”

Tsukuyo could just smiled at his child-like behaviour. “Not at all.”

Gintoki glanced at the smiling woman as a peaceful silence soon surrounded them.

“So, how are you doin’?” He finally decided to speak.

“Same as ever.” Tsukuyo replied. “Got a lotta work ta do."

"You’re gonna work yourself to death, woman.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Gintoki rolled his eyes at her response. “Yeah. After you end up in some hospital bed.”

Tsukuyo lightly chuckled at his concerned behaviour. “I’ll be fine. Really.”

"Fine." He exhaled in defeat. Silence soon felp over between them as both continued to gaze at the former City of Night.

It was always like this; she was always like this. Strong-willed and determined, always trying to hold up on her own while a wall surrounded her. No matter how much someone tried, she would always keep that stoic face of hers, not letting anybody to see her vulnerable side. Not even to that man who’d seen her at her most broken state. Four years and still hasn’t changed.

“Hinowa was worried, ya know.” This caught Tsukuyo’s attention. “You skipped work today and haven’t been home since morning. It’s not like you.”

Tsukuyo heard the concern in his voice as guilt rushed over her. “Yeah…I just had somethin’ to do.” She replied, looking the other way.

Gintoki could easily detect the reluctance in her voice. Of course, she would do that. Feel guilty about it. The last thing she wanted to do was make anybody worry. Especially when she was being the center of their worry. He finally turned around to look at the woman standing beside him. “You’re killing yourself, you know that?”

It was Tsukuyo’s turn to look at him. And their eyes finally met.

“You can talk about things if you want.”

She always failed, always, when she found herself looking at those ruby irises as Tsukuyo could feel all her worry escape her mind, her walls slowly crumble, as she laid exposed in front of him again. But before it got too late, she caught up again, breaking herself free from that unnamed trance. Crossing her arms, she spoke in her usual monotonous voice. "Says the man who does exactly the same.”

Really. Now she was just getting on his nerves. “You’re being way too stubborn.”

“And you’re bein’ overly concerned.”

“Well, shouldn’t I be?”

For a second, Gintoki saw her flat, cold eyes dilate, a sense of guilt and..grief clouding her vision. But soon she turned away, no more facing him. Same. Always the same.

She really didn’t want to face him now of all people. “What do ya want, Gintoki?”.

“Nothin’.” Gintoki shrugged. “Just checking on a friend, that’s all. Unless…..you wanna go on a different route.”

“Just shut up.” Tsukuyo rolled her eyes at his very suggestive joke but the little smile that curled up on her lips was hard to resist. Afterall, he was always like this; would appear out of nowhere, crack lame jokes and make her smile at times where all she could think of was running away. Four years of being in love with this lazy-ass samurai, and she always ended up thinking this must be the craziest thing she had ever done in her entire life.

“So, where were you the whole day?” Gintoki asked, facing her yet again.

Just like always, straight to the point. “I visited Shishou’s grave today.”

“Oh.”

“It’s been four years today.” Although her voice reminded cold, her eyes spoke something else.

She still blamed herself for everything. Like always.

He remembered everything. Her bruised face, the fight with Jiraiya and the promise that he once made to her.

She killed her master to protect him. Back when Jiraiya stood behind him with his kunai ready in that abandoned temple, ready to stab him anytime. He knew he was a coward, just like that man. Running away from his cursed fate, running away from that pain. Running away from that one beautiful thing that he always wanted to protect. He remembered hearing a kunai stabbing, piercing the skin while the scent of fresh blood covered the entire room. Gintoki knew it was not him bleeding; and it was not Jiraiya who threw that kunai.

He remembered that look on her face. He remembered looking at her, as if he was looking at himself. Broken. And empty.

“That wasn’t your fault.” Gintoki didn’t know what he was saying but he just wanted to say something. He knew how heavy the burden was and now that she was here, he just didn’t want her to carry that all alone. "Please don't blame yourself, Tsukuyo."

It's not like Gintoki never called her by her name but it was still so rare. Their usual banters always made him call her a "hag" or "bitch" (and she'd stick to "perm head" or "bastard") and even when they're having a miraculous normal conversation like this, he preferred calling her "Tsukki", the beloved pet name that Kagura gave her, only to rile her up even more.

He preferred calling her Tsukuyo only when he was actually being serious.

"Thanks, Gintoki." Tsukuyo replied, a sorrowful smile forming on her lips.

From the corner of his eyes, Gintoki saw the stoic woman, her gaze still fixated on the city but a glint of regret and sorrow filling her eyes. She was a lady of few words; he knew she was never going to open up in front of anyone, let alone him. She might show the world that she was holding herself together but he knew too well how much she was hurting right now.

And right now, more than anything, he wanted to see her smile. Why, he had no idea, but his mind itched to look at her smiling face. It was rare but everytime she did smile in front of him, he couldn't help but just pray to whatever Gods that existed to let her smile like this more often. He didn't know what kind of magic her smile held but for some reason, he always found himself looking forward to that one smile. And deep down, before he even knew it, he found himself wanting to make her smile.

"I envied you."

Those words slipped his lips before he could even register it properly in his brain.

At his unusual confession, Tsukuyo found herself turning towards that man.

Gintoki couldn't understand why he decided to say this now out of all times. "Back then," he continued "I envied you. For how you strong really are."

Tsukuyo couldn't help the confounded look on her face as she heared him say those words.

"If it's the teacher's duty to carry the burden of their student then what's the student's duty? To grow strong enough to help carry the teacher's burden." Gintoki quoted her words; remembering her figure as she carried her master on her shoulder for the last time. "I always pushed people away, just like that man. I didn't want to bear that burden of losing anyone anymore. There was a time when I lost everything while protecting everything. And so I blamed myself. And the world. And even at times, the people I once cherished the most. Even when I met the kids and everyone else, I still felt like running away. I was still scared. And not strong enough to carry that burden. But that night," he took a deep breath, composing himself "you taught me something. Something which I was never able to understand. Or should I say, I didn't want to understand."

He glanced towards the woman standing beside him, her eyes bewildered and questioning as a small smile curled up on his lips. "I envied you because I realised I could never become like you. And that how kind and strong you really are and how much you've taught me. Those words, they were something that I guess I always wanted to hear. And this time, I was able to understand. So, thank you. For teaching me that."

Tsukuyo didn't know what to say.

She continued to look at the man with wide eyes as her heart soon was swelled with a number of overwhelming emotions. The amount of gratitude and respect that he expressed for her and how his kind words left her speachless; she wanted to thank him too. She wanted to thank him for all that he had done for them. For her. She wanted to scream, cry, smile and even jump in his arms because she knew how much it pained him to talk about his past. But still he remained there, trying to cheer her up. He always did. And she loved him for that.

"...I see." She replied, her eyes now looking down because she wasn't able to look at that man. "It's good ta hear that."

Gintoki's words must have boosted her spirits up but it wasn't always when he'd just come out of nowhere and start showing his gratitude towards her. And she still wasn't used to getting compliments from anyone, let alone him. And now, if she did look at him now, she knew she'd turn red or maybe even start crying because suddenly, her heart and mind was a mess. She was completely exposed, completely vulnerable under his gaze. However, it was her pride which helped her gain a little composure.

"So, ya were able ta carry the burden, huh?" She asked, calming herself a little.

"Yeah." He smiled, thinking of all the events that happened. He remembered his father, his friends, the kids, all the other people who stayed by him. And then there was her, standing right beside him. "Yeah, I was."

"Good ta hear that." She smiled, taking a puff from her kiseru and exhaling lightly as she tried to regain her composure. But before she could even let the heat escape her cheeks, she found herself pulled towards a warm chest as strong, wide arms held her close.

"Ginto-" she stammered, but was cut soon after.

"Shut it."

Tsukuyo heard the man whisper softly in her ears as her hand dangled awkwardly on her sides. His strong arms were wrapped around her torso as he pulled her closer. She was too surprised to give any kind of reaction at this point.

He didn't know what came to his mind. Maybe it was the stoic face which hid hundreds of wounds behind it. Or maybe it was her ice-cold eyes which had a look of surprise when he thanked her for all she had taught him. Or maybe the fact that how she'd take another smoke from her pipe just to relax herself a little. The little changes that he found himself looking at every single time he met her; how even after all those years, she never let herself see anyone. Even when they were burying Jiraiya's body next to his sister's at the cliff, her face and eyes remained unchanged. Even when she was betrayed, even when she suffered so much, she always remained strong and kind; she carried so much weight on her shoulders all alone and yet she never let herself fall apart. Neither did she decide to run away from her responsibilities. She was a role model, the Courtesan of Death everyone respected and feared. And she never let anyone look through the wall.

However, for some reason, he found himself wanting to break those walls.

It wasn't always when Sakata Gintoki just casually goes out sprinkling compliments on everyone, let alone pull someone right for a hug. But here he was, doing something completely out of charcacter. Physical affection wasn't really her thing but here she was, wrapped around the arms of the man she had fallen for. Of course she knew that he was worried about her and was trying to cheer her up but this...was highly unexpected.

"Stop carrying the burden all alone." He whispered in her ears.

And she flinched at his honest words."I told ya, ya have no right ta say that. Stop messin' with me."

It was once again when he saw right through her. When his arms pulled her closer, she felt so vulnerable, so naked, she wanted to go and hide somewhere. Yet, her mind and heart didn't tell her to stop. As if this place was a sanctuary and she had nothing else to fear. Before she could think any further, Tsukuyo found her arms wrapping around his neck as she buried her face in his chest. "Idiot. Why're ya always here."

It was more of a statement than a question. "Told you the reason already."

She chuckled at his usual, nonchalant voice. "Yeah, getting bored at home. I know."

He didn't know when he got this comfortable with her in his arms but to his suprise as well, he found himself burying his face in her neck as his nose lightly brushed her skin. "Yup. Something like that."

At that moment, they couldn't exactly pinpoint what were they feeling. But somehow, the sense of want and intimacy through this little gesture never felt so familiar.

"Thanks. Fer everythin'." Her voice was low as she clutched his kimono tightly. "Fer always bein' there and fer always coming back."

He smiled, now gently putting his chin on her head. "Thanks for waiting." He could feel her smile through his fabric.

Tsukuyo didn't know why she was crying; whether the tears now escaping her eyes were of joy or sorrow. But even so, crying in his arms did not feel forgein for some reason. As if she had cried a thousand times in his arms.

"Now don't rub your snot on my kimono. I washed it yesterday." He teased gently as he now felt small droplets of tear drench his kimono a little.

A chuckle escaped her lips as she gently nudged him on the arm, her ears listening to his almost steady heartbeat. "But weren't ya the one who told me that I could cry with a runny nose."

Ah. She remembered. "Well, aren't you a whiny one. Fine. But only for tonight. Don't get too comfy, you drunk terminator. "

"Oh I won't, ya asshole."

"Too bad you're hugging an asshole right now, Tsu-ki."

"Oh? Well, who was it who pulled me first, I wonder?"

"Just shut it, you hag."

"Back at ya, perm."

They didn't know whether it was the night, the breeze or just their warmth that kept them holding onto each other for so long. Maybe it was the mutual feelings shared between those two. Or was it really was night and the stars that made them share their secrets, they didn't know. It might be too cliche to say that time stopped for those two but even in that little moment, they were able to found years of serendipity in each other's arms. As if that was only thing that reminded buried deep within until then.

This moment couldn't be anymore poetic.

Maybe, joining her on her patrols wasn't half-bad. After all, even fierce individuals like them sometimes need a shoulder to lean on.

-------×××--------

#gintsu #sakata gintoki #tsukuyo #gintoki x tsukuyo #gintsuki #fanfic

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wintaejk · 4 years

Text

Jungkook’s FIC REC | OS 2

I had too many links on the other post. Here is the second part of my Jungkook’s fic rec but with others themes.

Again, all those fictions belong to the amazing authors who wrote them, not me. I want to thank them once more.

(f) = fluff

(a) = angst

(m) = mature

magical au

— Trick or Treat: Howling for You (F) (M) — by @fortunexkookie

The way your Little Red Riding Hood costume lured over a fuckboy in a half-assed werewolf costume was a little cliche, but god damn was he beautiful. He promised he had plenty of big things to show you, and you took him up on the offer, not realizing that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew.

werewolf au | established relationship | +14k

— rottenfolk (M) — by @junqkook

a look was as hazardous as chemicals, a kiss as perilous as poison; his eyes and lips felt akin to a cure, but he was purely venom.

faerie au | royalty au | +13k

Commentary - If there’s only one one-shot I could recommend you to read of all tumblr, it would probably be this one. For me, it is rare to acheive such a level of mastery in fantasy fictions. Writing is already complicated, but when you have to place the readers in an unknown universe, it is even harder. However, the real brilliance of this story is the end. Because the end is supposed to satiate the reader in a way or another, it is supposed to offer what all the reader craved: a sort of closure. But here we all are, waiting for a sequel, because this story will make you want a next episode. And that is the brilliance, because you will surely never forget a story with that kind of power. So those are some of the reasons why this fiction is for me a mix of art, smartness and excellence ; and also why you would be missing something huge by not reading it.

— overdrive (M) — by @junqkook

you thought meeting jungkook was just a coincidence, but the universe didn’t deal in coincidences.

vampire au | soulmate au | enemies to lovers | +13k

— Crescent Bound - Jungkook (F) (M) — by @parkhabits

A pact bound by the moon. A secret kept only amongst themselves. Each of them experiencing their own cycles of heat.

werewolf au | friends to lovers | +12k

— Room 109 (M) — by @lavishedinjimin

Having Jungkook as your apartment buddy was a lot to get used to. But with one early day, your heat comes up much stronger than usual, and you were desperate for an alpha’s touch.

werewolf au | roommate au | alpha!jungkook | +6k

— after dark (M) — by @seokoloqy

Jungkook has served the royal family for generations, seen them live and die countless times. When it comes to you, he can’t watch you wither away too, but your lust for one another makes it harder and harder to stay apart.

vampire au | royalty au | knight!jungkook | +8k

— Life’s Blood (F) (A) (M) — by @littlenoona

You produce blood cells at an increased rate when blood is lost, effectively, you cannot bleed out. This ability has served you well so far, even gaining you a rare friend, and you’ve made it your source of income, but it also has its downsides, one of which you’ve managed to avoid successfully, until now.

vampire au | +13k

— you come in waves (A) (M) — by @angelguk

if jeongguk had a choice, he would destroy the sun. it’s not like he needed it for warmth due to his werewolf abilities making him a scorching radiator. it would also help his heart. because you look delectable in that stupid bikini.

werewolf au | friends to lovers au | 4k

— tell me your secrets (i’m all ears) (F) — by @jinpire

You’re not afraid of Jeon Jeongguk. Even if he’s probably some kind of bear or giant cat shifter, and just a hint of his irritation had your instincts vibrating beneath your skin like a live wire. Your thumb brushed over the plastic dome of mini-Levi’s head, taking comfort in the cartoon scowl and dead eyes, the tiny grey sticks of his 3DM gear. Small could be pretty fucking powerful too.

shifter au | college au | bunny!kook | +6k

drabbles: nooks and naps - foxie moxie (don’t pull my tail) - look before you leap - fluffles and kerfuffles

— Pomegranate Seeds (M) — by @taetaebaepsae

Jungkook thinks he’s found the perfect new roommate, but little doesn’t he know you’re just aching to corrupt him.

demon au | roommate au | virgin!jungkook | +4k

other themes

— Every Kind of Way (F) (M) — by @taehyungforreal

{Three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK.}

strangers to lovers | established relationship | +14k

Commentary - I remember when this fiction was posted. I read the teaser a few days before, and I was waiting for it. I remember the exact date of the release of this story, and let me tell you it never happens to me. But this is how much I liked this story. This masterpiece. This fiction is 95% made of smut. This is a warning if you don’t like that. However, what I like about Ashley’s works is that smut is not only smut (okay, sometimes it’s just pure filth but whatever). It’s not the first time I’ve read a piece of work of her and that I’ve been so thankful of reading her. Because the stories she writes are realistic. Sex is not always perfect. Sex is not always like in porn. Sex can be embarrassing. And this is why I love what Ashley writes, because she always have that realistic point of view on life. And sometimes it’s also nice to not turn everything into porn. What is very likeable - I said likeable? I meant loveable, sorry - about that story is also the three different stages of the relation of Jk and reader. This is also something I like about her writings. Life evolves, relationships evolve, and so does sex. So in this story, you will experience three different Jungkook. And it’s three reasons why you should read this fiction, three reasons why you will probably love it. One thing is sure, this chef-d’oeuvre will leave you wondering if your eyes have been burnt by the smuttiness or blessed by all the talent of this writer.

— tattooed two (ft. kth) (F) (M) — by @httpjeon

your boyfriend’s best friend joins you for a night you’ll never forget.

tattoo artist au | established relationship | poly au | +8k

— Inkling (A) (M) — by @gguksgalaxy

Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

tattoo artist au | +17k

— Freak-quency (M) — by @taehyungforreal

His eyes sparkle and he fights back a smile when he asks you why. “Is it because I didn’t give you something else to swallow like I said I would,” he questions, halfway through a much less subtle adjustment of his growing erection. Yoongi was right, he wants to be in trouble.

rockstar au | established relationship | +8k

— Boots (M) —

3000+ words of Ashley kinking on Jungkook’s boot. That’s it.

rockstar au | established relationship | part of Freak-quency | +3k

— Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold (A) (M) — by @filmflowersbangtan

It was around this time almost three years ago when Jungkook moved to LA after his band got signed to a famous record label. He told you that he’d keep in contact with you. That he’d visit as much as he could. That he loved you. But about a month after leaving, he stopped texting and calling as much. And then a mere week after the band’s first EP dropped, Burning Rabbit was a sensation.

rocksatr au | ex lovers | +3k

— Brother’s best friend (M) — by @lavishedinjimin

In which Y/n owns a smut blog dedicated to her crush and brother’s best friend, jungkook. it was all fun and games until he finds out about it and acts it out with you.

brother’s best friend!jungkook | +5k

— Sugarplum Elegy (F) (A) (M) — by @bymoonchild

You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while.

friends with benefits | college au | idiots to lovers | +17k

— The Kids Aren’t Alright (F) (A) (M) — by @sketchguk

Sneaking around with Jeongguk during your Christian retreat is complicated when you’re both dedicated to your jobs as co-youth group counselors at your father’s ministry.

friends with benefits | pastor’s kid!reader | +10k

— Gym (F) (M) — by @hobiwonder

Jungkook has a crush on you and has been watching you work out at his gym. One day you finally confront his obvious crush.

business woman!reader | fratboy!jungkook | older reader | +8k

— Gravity Check (M) — by @gimmesumsuga

The one where Jungkook is your oh-so-handsome climbing instructor.

climbing instructors!jungkook | strangers to lovers | 14k

— The Monogamy Monologues (F) (M) — by @kpopfanfictrash

The year? Some point after college. The occasion? Namjoon is getting married and the Rich Man’s Crochet Club has convened once again. Somewhere between the drinks and the laughter, everyone has the same realization: Jungkook has never been in a serious relationship. In the name of all that is holy (Overwatch and booze), the club’s mission is revived. Now though, their goal is much more perilous. Now, they aim to find Jeon Jungkook a girlfriend. (Part of The Rich Man’s Crochet Club series)

fuckboy!jungkook | wedding planner!reader | strangers to lovers | +42k

— The Virgin Volume (F) (A) (M) —

This fic exists in the RMCC universe. It takes place before RMCC and is the story of how Jungkook lost his virginity. To quote Seokjin/Namjoon: “What Jungkook doesn’t know won’t hurt him and – let’s be honest – his story is hilarious. One pump,” Seokjin laughs, sounding like a hyena. “One pump and he’s done.” // Ducking his head, Namjoon tries not to smile. “It was a rookie mistake,” he protests, defending their friend. “Jungkook was overexcited and couldn’t control himself. He got better.”

college au | friends to lovers | prequel to TMM | +6k

— everlasting (A — by @kimvvantae

being able to love the same person forever is a blessing given from the heavens. to you, however, eternity has become a curse.

reincarnation au | 18k

— Performances (M) — by @littlenoona

The same handsome guy has been appearing at your performances and you become more and more interested in who he is - now you’re dancing only for him, despite a hall full of people.

strangers to lovers | professional dancer!reader | +6k

— Matching Hearts (F) (A) — by @gukwluv

a drunk call to your ex boyfriend leads to a night of fun adventures that make you wonder why you even split in the first place.

exes au | +3k

— locker room talk (M) — by @minnpd

You end up having a rather heated talk with Jeon Jungkook in the locker room when he announces he has been chosen for the audition you both participated to.

dancer au | enemies to lovers | fuckboy!jungkook | +5k

— not quite lovers (M) — by @junqkook

hiring jeon jungkook as your personal assistant happens to have more than one perk.

workplace au | friends with benefits | ceo!reader | +15k

— By Its Cover (M) — by @gimmesumsuga

The one where Jungkook makes a very bad first impression.

workplace au | enemies to lovers | 21k

— Mind in the Gutter (F) (M) — by @kpopfanfictrash

Starting over is never fun. Especially not when you decide to take the phrase fully to heart; new job, new city, new coworkers and new relationships. When you are dragged to a happy hour by your new co-worker, Taehyung, you end up sitting beside a (very) cute, (very) shy IT worker named Jungkook. Several drinks later, he mentions he is in a professional bowling league with his friends and you rather enthusiastically invite yourself along. As time passes and you begin to grow closer, you still find it impossible to read Jungkook. Working in the same company and seeing each other so often, it is only so long before one of you snaps. But who?

workplace au | bowling au | strangers to friends to lovers | +18k

#fic rec #jungkook fic rec #bts fic rec #jeon jungkook

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aerialflight · 4 years

Text

Fic Recs

I haven’t done this in a while, recommending fics. But there were some fics these past couple of months that put a smile on my face, so I want to spread that joy to others. Seriously, they’re so good and I want to shove all these recs at people and have them appreciate them as much as I do. Everyone stay safe and I hope these recs make staying home easier for everyone!

[Fullmetal Alchemist]

maestoso by novalotypo

Edward Elric is about eleven when he stands up, makes an extended effort to knock as many books off the old bastard’s shelves as he can, and says, “Fuck the military. Al, you interested in music at all?”

Everybody's got their own ideas of retirement.

The Elrics don't even do retirement, what with the world trying to blow itself up every other month, but this shit has got to take the fucking cake.

(You want a fic that’ll make you cry tears of uncontrollable laughter? I point you to this fic. The shenanigans, the fact this is a time travel fic, the fucking headaches the Elrics cause, the I-Have-No-Fucks-To-Give attitude. Legend.)

[The Magnus Archives]

we raise it up by savrenim

Jonathan Sims reads a book and saves the world; although maybe the real salvation is the friends he makes along the way.

OR: in which Jon is not the only Archival monster for very long, Sasha James is competent, Tim Stoker finds some catharsis, Helen Richardson is sexy, Melanie makes a very successful youtube channel revamp, and Martin Blackwood gets to brew a lot of new friends tea.

(This is literally the most creative, fucking inspired tma fic I’ve ever read. You literally will never be able to guess what happens next and it’s just so much fun.)(Kinda Time Travel, you’ll understand what I mean if you read it, it’s so well done and amazing.)(The characterization for Sasha makes me want to weep, I’ve never seen her characterized this way before and it makes SO MUCH SENSE.)(@savrenim you are a QUEEN and you inspire me to be a better writer.)

[Marvel]

Crash Landing by Nyxelestia

"You could've left me there," Adrian murmured, jerking his head back towards the burning beach in the distance. "For Stark and his DODC people to find me. Liz and Doris' lives would've actually fallen apart with my arrest, and all my work to take care of them would've gone to waste. You could've just left me there...but you didn't. So I'll make you another deal."

Peter clenched his hands, fists shaking hard. "I'm giving you a second chance - but if you go back to what you were doing...I can't make any promises."

"It would be stupid of me to expect you to, after all this," Adrian said. He looked at Peter, at the hints of bruises and all the blood. He had trouble reconciling this fragile-looking kid with the superhuman who's been destroying his business, his daughter's homecoming date with the boy he'd nearly killed. "That's not my deal. My deal is, we both walk away, and neither of us say a word about any of this to Liz. Anything else - we'll cross those bridges as we come to them."

Swallowing, the boy nodded.

Instead of gift-wrapping the Vulture for Happy to find, Peter lets Mr. Toomes go.

(Honestly, I’m disappointed in the fact there’s not many Vulture-centric fics out there. This was so great and Peter was wonderfully characterized here along with Ned.)(I have a deep craving now for more Adrian Toomes fics and I blame this fic for that. I don’t regret it one bit.)

[The Witcher]

all some children do is work by some_stars

It's two children, he realizes as they slowly sit up. They look about eight or nine, not that he's much judge of children's ages. One is a girl, dark-haired, in a shabby dress. The other is a boy. His clothes aren't much better, and his hair isn't much lighter than the girl's, but his eyes—

His eyes, Jaskier realizes with a distant sense of horror, are gold like a cat's. His mind makes one more valiant effort to keep from connecting the obvious dots and recognizing them, and then it finally does.

"How in the unholy fuck," Jaskier says to no one, "did this shit happen?"

(So sweet it’ll give you cavities. Break your own heart reading this, I dare you.)

of music and motion and love by WriteThroughTheNight

When Jaskier was four, he slipped his mother’s watch and went to the field to gather a bouquet of dandelions. He climbed back into the yard, as stealthy as a child really cared to be, and crept over to the barn. In the barn, lived a secret. (The man he thought his father said the secret was a monster, a plague. His mother said the secret was his sister.)

Jaskier comes from a far humbler background, and would really like to know why Yennefer never came back for her youngest brother.

(YENNEFER AND JASKIER AS SIBLINGS ENOUGH SAID. FIENOWPAFE)

to render it transparent by theundiagnosable

Geralt wakes up warm, peaceful, and utterly content, which is how he knows that something is severely wrong.

(Where Geralt wakes up in the future and Jaskier and Geralt live at the Coast.)(They are Disasters. What else is new.)(Everything’s lovely and emotionally repressed.)

[Game of Thrones]

if I give you my heart, will you promise not to break it? by janie_tangerine

Ship: Brienne/Jaime

“It’s not broken,” she protests.

“Please,” Ronnet goes on, “it’s all red. Red hearts like that are broken and their owners are either useless or more effort than they’re worth. ‘Course you would get a broken one, who else would want you?”

“It’s not,” Brienne hisses, and at that he stops talking. She realizes her voice had turned cold. Very cold. A coldness that doesn’t belong to her, she’s never sounded like that, but it seems to come from the pulsing warmth in her hands, again - “and the day I find him you’ll see he’s not broken or damaged or unworthy. And I sure as the seven hells hope no one got saddled with yours.

in which soulmates find each other through one of them having the other's heart.

or, in which Brienne gets a mostly broken one the day Jaime Lannister kills Aerys Targaryen.

(So this is a series, just want to put that out there. And I read through all of them cause I just couldn’t do otherwise. Brienne is obviously the bravest, most noble, most amazing of course. And Jaime makes me want to punch a wall because feels.)(This soulmate idea is so creatively and well done, has become one of my favorite soulmate tropes.)(There are a lot of interesting pairings in this series and the way the author went about the relationships and this expanding world has me giving all the yeses.)(Please read!!!)

[Gilmore Girls]

Weather Me by missgoalie75

Ship: Paris Geller/Jess Mariano

A year in the life of Paris and Jess.

(PARIS GELLER AND JESS MARIANO AT THEIR VERY BEST HOLY SHIT!!! I can hear their voices in every line, every thought, every damn interaction and I am so in love it's ridiculous. Paris in particular won me over, I have become incredibly fond of her and it's honestly brilliant! And Jess has a beautiful mind and I love him, I do. God, do I.)(missgoalie75 did it again.)

Living With It by thesaltyavocado

Ship: Lindsay Lister/Jess Mariano

#Future Fic, #Post-Season/Series Finale, #So Your Ex is Now Your Step-Cousin, #And You're Dating Her Ex's Ex!, #A Step-by-Step Guide to Getting Over It

(There’s no summary, it’s a series, and I’m in LOVE. I am a sucker for really, really well done rare pairs, and this is the rarest of them all. Go for it. It’s beautiful.)(Also, the author is literally the BEST, the VERY BEST at making me want to ship people I never even thought of. They’re awesome.)(check out all their fics, I went on a spree and you should too.)

[The Hunger Games]

Speechless by thesaltyavocado

Ship: Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket

Effie was kind, she was warm, she offered comfort to anyone who needed it, microphones be damned. She had a reputation for generosity amongst the Victors that Haymitch hadn't paid any attention to, because he was so paranoid about showing his hand that he barely even said her name around other people, barely even acknowledged her existence. Everyone thought he hated her, Beetee had explained. Everyone knew the stories about how he'd made her cry in the sponsor's lounge at the opening of the 61st Games, how he'd blown up at Cecelia that time when she'd asked him to pass a message onto Effie for her. Is that why none of you assholes ever liked me? Haymitch had asked. No, we didn't like you because you were a prick, Beetee told him, which was fair enough.

(The best, and I mean the best fic I’ve ever read regarding this pairing. Nothing is ever going to top this. Nothing.)(The WORLDBUILDING. FUCK.)(Literally everyone is perfectly characterized in new, heartbreaking ways and I just, fuck. Fuck.)(I don’t care if you’re not into the fandom, this will make you fall in love and see the characters with new eyes and it’s absolutely stellar.)(I want to cry.)(You don’t even have to be here for the ship, just be here for the writing, characterization, the WORLDBUILDING, fucking everything.)(Please.)(This fic NEEDS more love.)(I have fallen in love with Effie Trinket.)(This is my life now.)

[Harry Potter]

Walkabout by thesaltyavocado for teethandstars

Ship: Hermione Granger/Sirius Black

"You are always far too handsome for your own good," Hermione says, "in any timeline."

(The author strikes again when it comes to shipping people I don’t expect to love, yet here it is. Such an interesting fic where the time travel already happened and it’s the aftermath that the fic covers.)(Again, characterization off the fucking charts and I just want to wrap myself up in their words and live there.)(A story about broken people trying to find peace within themselves.)

[Stranger Things]

and you hunger for the time by missgoalie75

Ship: Steve Harrington/Kali Prasad

after the battle of starcourt, steve figured the rest of the summer would involve not working, waiting for his busted ribs and face to heal, hanging out with robin and the party, and trying to ignore the panic he feels whenever he thinks about his future. All that does happen, but other unexpected things happen too.

(Bet you didn’t see this ship coming, did you? Neither did I, yet here we are.)(missgoalie75 is the gift that keeps on giving.)(But in all seriousness this is my favorite characterization of Steve, hands down.)(This fic needs more kudos and comments and basically all the love it deserves.)(God tier characterization and relationship development.)

[Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas]

nfwmb by perennial

Ship: Eris/Proteus

The goddess of discord isn't careless enough to fall in love with a do-gooder mortal prince—unless, of course, she doesn't know it's happening.

(Okay, hear me out. I know it’s weird, I can feel the judgement coming from my screen. But I am weak in the face of rare pairings that actually work and the fact I fucking loved this movie ever since I was a kid, okay? So if anybody else loves this fandom as much as I do, stand up and take notice of this. I am here to tell you there are worthwhile fics to be read in this very, very small fandom.)

I'll keep turning down the hands that beckon me to come by deavors

Ship: Marina/Proteus/Sinbad

“Jealous?” Sinbad says, voice easily and casually mocking, but there’s something else under there, an undertone that speaks of so many things Marina isn’t even close to understanding.

“Extremely,” says Proteus, cracking a half-smile, but Marina feels like he’s not joking.

They stare at each other for a few moments. Marina’s gaze flickers between them. Sun and moon. She wishes—she doesn’t know what she wishes. Her heart is twisting again, but in a different way from before: as though it’s half-empty and longs to be full.

(You have no idea how in love I am with the idea of these three being in a poly relationship. No idea.)(I’ve been shipping all of them the moment I was introduced to the idea of polyamory relationships.)(This is THE poly ship for me.)(Nothing’s ever gonna come close. Nothing.)

[Crossovers]

Trust Me, I'm an Alchemist by metisket

Fandoms: Yuri!!! on Ice, Fullmetal Alchemist

In which Yuri Plisetsky began life with the name Edward Elric, and this has made the world of figure skating a significantly stranger and more alarming place.

“Are you saying you lived a life of crime before you began skating?” “I’m gonna have to check the statute of limitations on a couple things and get back to you on that.”

(Meme Alien Edward, Ninja Alphonse who’ll smile at you as you Perish, Disaster Gay Victor, Disaster Gay Maniac Yuuri.)(If this isn’t incentive enough, the Elrics traumatizing and delighting social media with their Life Stories and their Life of Crime.)(Feral Elrics being Feral Elrics.)(It’s the kind of fic that gets better with every chapter, cause the shenanigans just keep ESCALATING.)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Fullmetal Alchemist #The Magnus Archives #Marvel #The Witcher #Game of Thrones #Gilmore Girls #The Hunger Games #Harry Potter #Stranger Things #Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas #Crossover #Yuuri on Ice #Shipping

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murdersexual · 4 years

Note

So about that part II to that LeoPika fic? 👀👀👀

WTF, BOI THIS IS TRASH! Stop torturing me, my writing is t r a s h.

🚨Warning!🚨

-Rated MA.

-Sex, Drugs, Alcohol, Gambling and Gun Violence.

-NOT PROOFREAD! (Like I write shit on a tired 3am brain...)

-NICKNAMES: Koi Fish/Fishie/Fishy: Leorio. Smol Ram or whatever else I used: Kurapika.

-Sorry for any potential OOC bullshit- 🤣🤣🤣

-Sorry but not sorry for Melody- 👀😤🤣

Part II: The Whims of Fate:

Melody didn’t know how to feel, her eyes grew to the size of saucers as she saw how fast Leorio was moving. She backed away, now hanging her phone up, she tries to make her escape via the glass door elevator. Her tiny chubby hand desperately clicks onto the up button. Her own heart played a melody of guilt and fear. But that’s what you get when you snitch.

‘I-I gotta get outta here!’

“MELODY!”

The way Leorio’s voice projected echoed across the entirety of the sixth floor. Hearing him yell like that shook her to her core in more than just one way. She drew a shaky breath and her eyes flicker to the angry hazel eyed hunter and back to the elevator that seems to be moving in slow motion.

“Come on... C-Come on!”

Impatience coats her voice as she now stands directly in front of the door.

“I KNOW YOU HEAR ME!! HOW CAN’T YOU?!”

His voice boomed once more, his soft hair now waving over one of his eyes only for him to use his left hand to push it out of the way. Now he’s even more pissed... Why?

Because she ruined his ‘SURPRISE MOTHAFUCKAH’—in other words, his grand entrance.

Yet because she absolutely is f o n d of Kurapika, she’d do anything to protect him. How adorable. Maybe there’s something else that lingers in her actions...

“Why are you here, Leorio?!”

Finally, she projects her voice even though that nervousness is still present. Just as she asks that, Leorio steps in front of her. The elevator clicks open and he takes her by her collar and shoves her into it.

“WHY?!”

Obviously, she avoided the question. He KNEW she knew why he was there otherwise she would’ve given him a friendly greeting and not snitch. Her onyx orbs bore into his icy gaze. She could hear the anger emitting from his heart and she ended up closing her ears and shutting her eyes.

“Be-Because you shouldn’t be here!”

Her answer made him wonder... Yet, he didn’t release her collar. His hold can be compared to that of a death grip.

“Urgh! That ain’t tellin’ me shit! I oughta throw your ass in the fucking fountain for snitching!”

Leorio’s hands are rated E for Everybody. Meaning he WILL absolutely drop a woman off if necessary.

“I... I-! My lips are sealed! Now unhand me!”

The infamous saying that typically gets passed about when classified information is detailed to anyone that’s within a Mafia. Upon hearing that, he roughly shoves her away, the back of her head slightly bouncing off of the elevator railing.

“Ow...”

A hiss of pain left Melody, a glare is given to him as she now reaches inside her tuxedo jacket for her brand new revolver but she stops just as she places her hand on the handle.

“Do it if you’re bad...”

The entire scenario played in her head had she shot him. Her eyes blinked multiple times—seeing her death being played out in several different perspectives. Lowering her head in defeat, she adjusts her fedora and finally tells him...

“8th floor, Roulette Table number 403.”

Huh, does that number ring a damn bell?

Pressing the fancy gold button with the bold number 8 on it, a scoff emits from the fish as he now stands to the side with his eyes forward. Putting his hands in his pockets and standing coolly, he sighs while tapping his foot impatiently.

“Hmph... Ya could’ve just told me that shit from the beginning and I wouldn’t have to damn near rough you up.”

Staring at her shiny black small heeled Oxford tux shoes, she blinks while taking a second to realise that there’s always an easier way to do things. Why didn’t she play it cool? Could she have lied about this? Did her feelings cloud her judgment?

“And that I could’ve but had the circumstances been different? Then by all means. You really... REALLY shouldn’t be here...”

Nothing annoyed him more than to hear those words without no fucking why to follow. Deep down, he believes she’s probably the only one concerned about the type of trouble he’d get himself in. That or maybe there’s a hint of jealousy?

“I will only say this for the simple fact that your heart reflects impatience and curiosity: It’s for your own good. If you get mixed with any of the other families? Who will be there to save you? Nobody.”

A smirk curves onto his face, now recalling how he’s caused a lot of inconvenience on the second floor all the way up. He softly chuckles, his head dropping for a second. The doors chime and open as they reach the eighth floor. Walking out first and turning to face Melody, he gives a shrug before backing away.

“Who’s to say that I haven’t already stirred the whims of fate~?”

Melody’s breath hitches in her throat, her eyes widening only for her to smirk and watch him with softened eyes.

“You’re dressed like a really handsome Devil tonight, that told me enough, Mr. Leorio~”

Looking over his shoulder briefly, he waves his hand.

“Just call me Leorio! But don’t think I’m gonna forget that you’ve snitched! I’m letting you off easy because I gotta conserve energy for this fucker!”

Momentarily, she found herself chasing after that Angel in Disguise. Shaking her head quickly with a soft blush, she clicks the number six and heads back to her post.

‘I always find myself attracted to those with charisma that’s relative to that of the Devil himself~ I must say, had my looks never been deformed, I’m sure I’d play him a melody that even he would have a hard time forgetting.’

The doors closed and she was gone.

Finding himself standing just before the entrance. His hazel gaze softened as he felt some feminine hands reach up to his shoulders.

“Welcome~ Shall I take your coat sire~?”

Glancing behind him, he sees a ginger bunny babe with the sweetest of smiles. He took out his favourite pocketknife and placed it in his blazer’s inner breast-pocket. He already has his wallet and keys in his pants pocket. Slipping out of his heavy winter coat, he carefully hands it to her.

“Hello there~ And why I thank you. You’re too sweet~”

She winks now sauntering away. His eyes instantly found those well rounded and pale ass cheeks of her’s. He gave a nod of approval while reaching for a cup of vodka topped with cranberry. He sips it and stuffs his freehand in his pocket.

‘Hmm...’

“Where should I start~?”

Mischief rang as he asked himself aloud. Proceeding to walk forward, he sees the blue and violet ambience, the music is A1–fun and enticing. Hell, everything all the way down to the alcohol is excellent. His eyes found the slots and just as he did on the second floor, he walks on over and leans over an older man with salt and pepper hair. He appears concentrated...

“Say, excuse me, fine sir?”

Looking to the tall youngster, he tilts his head while taking out his fancy Cuban cigar.

“What is it, Young Buck?”

With a pleasant smile he gently leans down, taking his hand out of his pocket he points to the slot screen.

“Watch the last two reels... Those move faster than the middle ones... Why do you think it’s so hard to hit the jackpot?”

With a smile, the man nods and daps him up. He adjusts his suspenders and pulls the lever.

“Thank you, son! How can I ever repay ya?”

Shaking his head no, Leorio stands straight and chuckles.

“Oh no, there’s no need, it’s what I love to do, especially as a birthday gift to myself.”

Raising both brows at his benevolence, the old man pulls out a wad of cash and calls over some of the Bunnies.

“Well I’ll be damned! Happy Birthday my boy! Ladies! Treat this young man to the finest of drinks, on me, Don Magnifico!”

Two of the girls hook around each of Leorio’s arms, his eyes instantly finding their perked up breasts, he smiles and looks back at him.

“I won’t forget your kindness, Don Magnifico!”

Don Marcelo Magnifico, age 52, standing at 6’2, still maintaining his muscle, he is one of the many Mafia Leaders who aren’t fond of other families. He’s widely known within the Underground community for his foreign cuisine and weapons import. The man has literally built a ‘Little Italy’ within Yorknew. He sees something within Leorio and he hopes to potentially get to him. Maybe he can find him a spot amongst his ranks?

From the sidelines, there are a familiar set of eyes that’s seen the entire exchange. With a dreaded sigh, the usually lax blondie found himself making tracks to the bar. Was his mind truly prepared to deal with the aggro fish?

Partially...

He gives a few taps to one of the ladies, he whispers for her to take his place momentarily at the Roulette Table. With a nod of confidence, she hopples over to take his place. Now Kurapika’s off to meet Leorio at the bar. Caution bells tolled in his head the closer he came and just as their eyes met?

The cheery and flustered face of Leorio’s instantly darkened. His lips wore that angry pout. He took one of the shots down without never taking his eyes off of him. Nearly stopping for a second, those light grey eyes momentarily averted. He could sense that rage...

“Well, well, well... Look what the cat dragged in...”

That came out so dark...

Sitting beside the angry fish is a quietly sighing Kurapika. He leans into his left hand and uses his right to snag a shot glass only to trace the rim of it.

“So what’s the fucking excuse this time? Huh?”

“There are none...”

Taken back by his honesty, those hazel eyes searched around as he hums for he’s in thought.

“Oh that’s fucking funny because I could’ve sworn you were gonna say that ol’ excuse you always say! I was expecting that shit! Did you purposely fucking forget or what?”

The idea of being chewed out never sat well with Kurapika. Most of the time, his words were hitting him in the side of his head. Finally taking that shot down and turning to face him, he scoots closer to the edge of his seat.

“Well, go on...”

He was setting himself up to actually get hit this time around. Perhaps he genuinely saw how hurt Leorio is. Why not give him what he’s always wanted right?

“I would never forget any special occasions and I would never miss anything important... I’m honestly tired. I’m sick of the lies, I’m sick of being the one trying to hold on, I’m sick of fucking trying to be the good fucking friend... At this point, I think I’m being taken for fucking granted and I ain’t got time. I’m here to tell your punk ass that you wanna do shit alone? You wanna be okay on your own? Fine. Fine. FINE! I’m done caring...”

Hearing these words made Kurapika wonder... Is he saying this out of complete anger? Or does he truly mean it? Either way, guilt was going to eat at him. Before he could combat his words, Leorio shook his head no.

“Save your petty fucking apologies... I don’t want them. I don’t need to put up with this shit. I know it’s gonna sound bad but how the fuck are Gon and Killua better fucking friends and their younger than the both of us? Fucking children. Ya hear me? Both of them called me and told me happy birthday and they’re always checking up on me... And what the fuck are you doing? Pretending that none of us exist! So you might as well lose my fucking number. This is the last time I’m gonna ever see that pathetically sheepish face of yours.”

At the moment, the fact that any of this is being said kept anything from conjuring—thoughts, retorts and anything else. That usually stoic face started to finally falter. One of his fears was this happening but he would never come to say it.

“Oh yeah? Don’t think I won’t pass up the opportunity to knock your ass into next week!”

Cracking his knuckles then drawing back his arm, he quickly cocks it, totally not caring that he may get shot, he will land that punch.

Or so he thought...

His fist was caught! Those ombré nails instantly dug into Leorio’s soft flesh. The slightest of hisses had emitted.

“At first I felt bad, but the fact that you had the absolute audacity to question my loyalty made me retract that privilege. All you do is bitch and I don’t want to hear it. You ask too many questions... Questions that if I answer may or may not put you in danger. So sorry if I’m choosing to be distant but given my position, I don’t particularly have as much free will like you do. Am I making excuses? No, I don’t make any and never will... I hate explaining myself... but because you obviously need a frequent fucking reminder, it can’t be helped.”

Leorio felt his eye twitch. He can’t find himself agitated!

“Let me—!”

Holding a finger up with his free hand, those light grey eyes had a faint red glint. But never did they leave those icy hazel ones.

“No, you’ve had your time to speak. One thing that always irritates me is how you up and assume that I don’t fucking care... When I do! So answer me this...”

Those nails pressed further and further into his skin, he even started to bend that fist of his back. Leorio did his best not to flinch.

“What time is it? Because on my watch I have... 10:21...”

Finally releasing his fist and blinking his gaze closed for a second to recenter himself, he leans back into his left hand before slowly looking to him. Leorio saw the claw marks and he couldn’t believe he was bleeding.

“...Meaning that your birthday isn’t over yet... But since you’re here, there’s no need to text nor call... So... Happy Birthday.”

That icy gaze of his warmed up instantly. He looks away for a second, his eyes appearing to search for the words he wanted to say.

“Ahem... I... One thing I’ve hated about your ass is how you gotta explain shit to me like I’m not detail oriented! But it still sounds like you’re making excuses... I don’t care what you say! Despite you didn’t apologise, you’re still giving yourself a fucking gateway to do the same old goofy shit. Time and time again, you don’t know how frustrating it is... Hence why... I just don’t care anymore. Sure, you’ve given me the words I wanted to hear, but it only takes less than a minute to fucking text. And no, I don’t give a fuck about you’re little ‘position’.”

Downing a shot before sliding over his birthday drink in front of him. Leorio rolls his eyes dismissively, now stirring his straw before sipping it.

“Hell I could be Prime Minister for all I give a fuck and it wouldn’t stop me from checking on my friends... Buuuuuttttt I guess I’m the only one who feels like that huh? Oh correction: ‘who FELT like that’...”

In all honesty, what could Kurapika say? Was Leorio really about to give up?

Recognising his silence, that hazel gaze narrows at him. His lip turns up, a look of unimpression decorates his face. He shakes his head in pity.

“Thought so...”

Facing the still upset fishy, the blondie sees his face and wonders how will he cope without seeing or hearing from him again? Slipping out of his chair, he softly chews on his bottom lip while thinking of something that he could do or say... These kinds of situations aren't his strong suit, obviously.

“Before you leave and never come back, there is something I’d like to show you... It’s not that impressive but hopefully it’ll show you that I don’t turn a blind eye to any of your advances.”

Raising an eyebrow, Leorio saw what he thought he’d never see and that’s...

That he’s genuinely afraid of losing him.

🚨🚨🚨

Okay so that’s it for part II. 😞😞😞 I really such at writing. But it’s an escape for my creativity. Hope you guys find it slightly entertaining! Thanks for reading and remember to stay hydrated and wonderful! 🥰

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