#…I’ve been upgraded from christmas when this guy looks at me. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i-trash-about-things · 11 months ago

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a.n.: I can't believe this took me 6 freaking months to write. It definitely doesn't live up for the hype, but for some reason the words just wouldn't flow. In the mean time, I graduated! Actually went to prom! It kinda sucked, I really don't see the hype behind it!

Anyway, enjoy– and thank you for the patience to those that were interested in this story. If you're still interested by the end of this part– well, you'll know for yourself if there will be more lol ;)

Part 1!

Multiple perspectives (3rd and 1st person); Henderson!Reader; GN!Reader; use of Y/N; Billy Hargrove Survived (but he isn't a racist piece of shit); Everyone might be OOC, sorry lol; swearing; light violence; mostly fluff; English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn’t make sense :p; no beta, we die like Vecna should’ve

4.5k words.

Third Time's The Charm.

Dustin’s day has been good, in his less than humble opinion.

School sucked the same as always, but hey! Everything other than that was actually pretty awesome!

His older sibling popping by on a whim wasn’t a rare occasion, far from it. When they first moved to college, he cried the whole day thinking he would only see them on Christmas, and now it’s like they never moved in the first place!

Well, maybe it’s because of the Upside Down thing and how they almost died about a million times in the last 4 years, but Dustin liked to believe it’s because they just love him very very much.

But, one thing actually did change.

Eddie.

“Dustin, my man, my favorite nerd, what a sight to the sore eye you are right now!”

Speak of the devil.

Him and Eddie have known each other for a while. I mean, how could he not when the metal-head has been his sibling's best friend for almost all his life?

And with the time to get used to each other, plus Dustin’s natural attentiveness and attention to detail, he can read this guy like the cheap rip-off comic of spider-man he is.

Eddie wants something.

“Is that a new upgrade to your walkie? Dude, that looks sick, what does it do?”

“Nothing, it’s just a normal radio actually.”

“Oh.”

A snort leaves his nose. Dustin shakes his head, setting the walkie talkie on the library table before looking up to his friend.

“You really aren’t subtle, my friend.”

“First things first: how dare you. Secondly-” Eddie pushes the nearest chair back, giving him enough space to sit on the old table. The notebook under him crinkles, but he just pushes it aside, clearly in too much of a rush to care about a random person’s notes. “I need your help.”

“If it’s about the whipped cream on Lucas’ backpack and his basketball shoes, it’s too late. The operation is already in motion.”

“Operation- wait, did you put whipped cream on Sinclair’s shoes?”

“What? No I didn’t. You didn’t hear that from me.”

“Mhm.” Eddie just sends Dustin a look, raising an eyebrow with just a very done expression on his eyes, before shaking his head. “You know what, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear anything.”

He leans closer, likes he’s about to tell the biggest secret of his life. The notes beneath his butt crumble further.

“It’s about your sibling.”

“Y/N? What they have to do with anything?”

“I’m gonna ask 'em to prom.”

If Dustin were drinking something, he would’ve done a spit take right now.

“WHAT?!”

“SHHHH!” The other school library attendees shush him, all glaring in their direction. Dustin flushes a little, curling into himself, but Eddie doesn’t even flinch.

“I want to take your older sibling to prom, Henderson. Like, real bad.”

“Dude!”

“What?!”

“That’s my sibling!”

“And my best friend! So??”

“So–” Dustin sputters. How does he even respond to that?!

Don’t get him wrong, of all the people he could’ve picked to compete for your hand, Eddie would always be his champion. His two favorite people??? Sign him up!

Doesn’t mean his into it, tho!

“Why?!”

“What do you mean ‘why’?! You’ve ever met ‘em?! They're the coolest most beautiful, and funniest person I’ve ever known! Why wouldn’t I want to take them to prom?”

“No, not that- why the change? I thought you wanted to go with Chrissy??”

That gets a reaction out of him.

Eddie flinches, looking away. He passes a hand through his hair, half hiding himself beneath the brown curls.

“Chrissy… She’s…”

Dustin does not like the hesitation. The kid crosses his arms over his chest, squinting up at Eddie with distrust.

“Look, I’m all for you going after my big sibling–”

“Really? That wasn’t what it looked like two seconds ago.”

Dustin squints further, frowning, and Eddie groans.

“Just keep going.”

“As I was saying, I don’t mind you taking my big sibling to prom… If you actually mean it.”

It’s his turn to frown, a mirror of Dustin’s expression, but in confusion and a little bit of offense.

“What? Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

“You were just drooling over Chrissy, like, two days ago! I get you getting rejected, but don’t use them as a rebound, dude!”

“What?!”

“SHHHHH!” Strike two, the people around them shush them both again. Dustin doesn’t flinch this time, both him and Eddie a bit too enthralled in the topic at hand.

“How could you say that?! You know how much I care about Y/N!”

“I know that, but I also know how much they cares about you.”

“What does that has to do with anything?”

“Uh- Literally everything? What, you think you can just go and ask them all willy nilly to go to prom with you like it’s no big deal, and they won’t feel like it’s a big deal? Thye care, dude! What you say matters to them!”

Something in that makes Eddie pause, breath hitching on the tip of his tongue. He knew that, of course… Didn’t he?

His mind flashes back to the three years ago, just in the middle of prom season.

“Y/N Henderson, you did not–”

“Oh but I did! I did, despite it all!”

Eddie feels the bright afternoon sun on his back, the ever warming spring air making his hair and their hair flutter in the wind.

Today has been a weird day. His friends all seemed either jittery or smug, like they know something he doesn’t, a joke he didn’t get the punchline yet.

But the weirdest thing? His best friend wasn’t waiting for him by his parking spot.

At the end of class, he found a pretty envelope on his locker, attached to it a blue little flower– one of the few he recognizes. Forget-me-not’s.

“6 years sure go by fast. We’ve been through a lot in that time, didn’t we? And we will go through a lot more shit, knowing us like I do.

I was hoping you’d indulge me on a little game, just for old times sake.

Check the supply closet closest to you.”

From then on, he went on a surprisingly elaborate scavenger hunt. Passing through closets, to bathrooms, even checking in with his friends when the little clues told him to. Surely enough, each one handed him a new letter, and each one had a soft and excited smile on their lips.

After a good half hour of running around the school like a headless chicken, Eddie had accumulated enough clues to fill both his pockets and enough flowers for a small bouquet. The last letter sits on his hand as he dashes around the halls, a big smile on his lips.

“Ok, I promise this is the last one– for real this time, I swear.

This had been a rough year on you, but I was hoping to send it off with a bang. One last middle finger to the world before I have to leave you behind to fend for yourself in the lion’s den.

So, Edward Munson, meet me by the woods, in our usual spot.”

“Henderson, you absolute maniac!” Eddie all but jumps over the picnic table, practically throwing himself on his best friends arms. They don't even blink, only opening up and holding him. Firm, steady and warm. Their laughter feels like electricity and care all at once over his skin, and he breaks into goosebumps.

“Did you like it? Had any fun?”

“Hell yeah I did! How long have you been planning this, dude?!”

“Ah, who cares about that?” They flick their wrist, like trying to get rid of an annoying fly. Eddie’s way too used to their dismissive and nonchalant nature at this point, so he just laughs and hugs them close again.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what did I ever do to deserve you?”

He can’t see, but their smile softens. The hold on him tightens, and they buries their face into the mess of his hair.

“You’re you. That’s more than enough.”

After a beat, they finally pull away from the other. Eddie doesn’t even questions at their dazed gaze, used to it at this point, even if he never truly knew the reason behind it. He squeezes their shoulders, still a little incredulous at the situation. Taking his little moment of silence as an opportunity, Y/N steps back and takes one last flower from their pocket. It’s a little bit beaten up after being squashed in the hug, but it makes Eddie’s heart feel tight anyway.

“Look, I know this hasn’t been an easy year for you. You’ve been through a lot of shit, dealing with shitheads like Carver and Hagan, and that you didn’t graduate, but… But I wanted to make the end a good memory, you know? Eat junk food, dress fancy for once in our lives, pretend that we’re the protagonists for once, you know?”

They take a deep breath, eyes locked on the little flower on their hand. It’s impossible to lift their head and finally gaze into the eyes of their best friend. The love of their life.

Bah, call 'em dramatic. They're already way too deep into this cheesy bullshit to care.

“So. Eddie. Eds. Angel. Would… You, maybe… Like to… Gotopromwithme??”

Well that was smooth.

Still, it doesn’t seem like he cares about their awkward stumbling.

Instead, he just pulls them into one more hug, laughing like a maniac.

“Yes! Of course I’d like to, you dumbass! You’re my best friend!”

And those words make their heart races and breaks, all at once.

They let the little blue flower fall to the ground, unbothered by the numbness on their fingertips.

“I know. You’re my best friend too, Eds.”

Eddie shakes his head, locks brushing against his nose at the intensity. This is a crisis for another time.

“I know, believe me. But I’m telling the truth! I don’t care about Chrissy, I legitimately want them to be my date!”

Dustin raises an eyebrow, feeling the genuine longing in Eddie’s tone. It’s a surprising match to his siblings, every time they talks about Eddie. That lingering bitter-sweetness in the end of the sentence, the longing in each and every word. He’s heard them rant and ramble, on and on, about the metal-head more time than Dustin feels like counting, he knows that tone. It’s a perfect match.

So, he sighs, leaning his head back against the library’s chair to the point his cap almost falls off.

“Fine, I’ll help.”

“Yes!”

“SHHHHH!”

…

Today was… Weird.

Maybe it was the way the sun was beating down my face, too hot for a spring day, maybe it was the fact that the 7-11 I passed by didn’t have my favorite slushy flavor, but something just seemed… A little off today. Like someone just tilted the world a little bit to the left.

I take a long drag from the cigarette between my lips, watching the shining sun from my spot by my car. Sitting beside me is none other than Billy Hargrove, the same glare up at the sky as mine.

It’s always funny hanging out with Billy by the school’s grounds. We used to beat each other up in this same parking lot, about two years ago! And now look at us, sharing a can of coke beneath the spring sky like two dads waiting for their kids after football practice.

“I can hear your brain about to cook up some weird shit to say, Henderson. Please keep it to yourself.”

I don’t even blink at his harsh tone, putting a sugary sweet expression and leaning to lay my head on his shoulder.

“Awn, I know you love my commentary.”

He’s quick to brush me off, with not nearly as much strength as he used to a few years ago.

“I’d rather hear the screams of children.”

All I can do is snort, laughing slightly before taking a sip of the can between us.

Billy is one of the only people acting somewhat normal today, same snarky responses that once made me lunge for his throat and same pissed off frown.

He’s also one of the few people I trust the most, funnily enough. What can I say, he’s seen the worst in me and somehow still sticks around- probably because I’ve seen the worst in him too, but still. Maybe that trust is what made me press the halfway burnt cigarette into the ground and turn to look back at him.

“Hey, dude?”

“Hm.”

“Is it just me or is everyone kinda off today?”

And to my surprise, he doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, he raised his own cigarette to his lips, taking a long and deep drag.

“Nope, just you.”

“Pfft, weird, something tells me your lying?”

“Something? What, like voices in your head? Damn, I knew you were crazy, Henderson, but this is new ground.”

“Billy.”

“… Hmph.”

He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets, sunglasses tilting down just enough to see the look he sends me. I shake my head and he relaxes. There’s a small pause after that. He flicks the cigarette ash off, before glancing to me again.

“Look, it’s nothing you have to worry about, ok?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his words, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Last time you said that, you were possessed by a god damned spider monster thing.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m not. So chill out.”

Isn’t he sweet?

I chew on the inside of my cheek, breathing in slowly before letting out a long long sigh.

“Fine.” A pause. But then I turn to look at him again, with the most serious expression I can. “But if you are possessed again-”

“Fuck off.”

“Pfft-”

The loud ringing of the school bell quickly brings our attention back to the front doors of Hawkins High. Like clockwork, they open and the sea of teenagers roll out, flooding the parking lot. My eyes drift between faces, looking for any sign of my favorite club, but the first thing I catch is a familiar cap and a mess of red hair.

Dustin immediately runs up to me, his cap hitting me on his attempt at a dive hug. Max is not so far from him, but instead of the affection attack she just flips Billy the bird… which he quickly reciprocates, smirking.

The two types of siblings.

“Hey, Junior.” The sarcastic and rougher edge to my voice quickly melts off, turning to the normally sweeter and more relaxed tone reserved only for my little brother. Dustin immediately turns to me, smiling like he always does- but, of course, there’s something off.

“Hello there, older sibling figure.”

… ok.

I just let out a chuckle, a little weirded out. See? It can’t be just me, everyone’s acting all skittish for some reason. Did I miss the memo?

Max pushes Dustin’s cap over his eyes before he has the chance open his mouth again, her eyes literally screaming for him to shut up. Then, she turns to me.

“If he hurts you, tell me. I’ll kick his ass.”

“… What???”

The hell’s going on?

Dustin clears his throat, pushing his hat back and sending Max a half hearted glare.

“As I was about to say- Eddie told me to give you this.”

From the depths of his many pockets, he pulls a… letter? A note, better said, scribbled in a chicken scratch of a writing I know way too well.

Before I can open it, he quickly pulls me so I look at him again.

“I’m gonna catch a ride with Max today I’ll see you later ok bye-”

And he practically drags Max to Billy’s car… which she weirdly let’s him do. I look back at the blonde next to me… and he doesn’t even blink at the interaction, stepping on the rests of his cigarette before turning away from me without a word.

What…. the hell.

As the familiar camaro drives off the parking lot, leaving me to my lonesome by my truck, I glance down at the note in my hands. Crumpled notebook paper, with the little bits used to wrap around the spiral still attached, and that familiar handwriting.

After a huff of amusement, I open up the letter.

“Greetings, dear adventurer! It is I, Eddie the Pardoned (we really need to workshop that title).

This is your formal request to join in on an adventure through the ever changing land of Hawkins High school. Walk across the mighty and dangerous hallways where jocks once slammed our faces into lockers, or traverse into the terrifying lands we call the gym showers!

Follow the riddles and clues, and if you’re lucky, the gates of a whole new adventure shall open to those with brave and worthy hearts.

Good luck.”

“Dramatic dork.” I mumble beneath my breath, but the smile on my lips can only be described as disgustingly smitten.

I look over the note again, flipping it between my fingers. Surely enough, more writing in the back.

“Those who trail my path are the best liars, but also the most emotional of artists. The many nights you’ve spent between my walls, you were never quite yourself. Oh, wow, he really wasn’t kidding on making riddles, huh?”

I can’t help but let out a chuckle, raising my eyes from the paper in my hands and looking around the parking lot. There’s a lot of people walking around right now, most speeding to get home after a long long Friday, but my eyes don’t catch a single hint of anyone using the familiar Hellfire shirt. Which is definitely weird, they’re normally the first ones to leave the school. Still, no sign of Jeff, or Bryan, or Gareth, much less Ed.

I look back down to the riddle.

“The many nights you’ve spent between my walls” So it’s a place, then? One I’ve been before, if Eddie isn’t being a little shit and using “you” because he thinks it sounds better.

“Those who trail my path are the greatest liars, but most emotional of artists.” Greatest liars? And most emotional of artists. Well, if it’s a place, related to art, then the art room? But then why the lying?

“You weren’t quite yourself.” Wasn’t… quite myself. Hm.

A place, probably one at school since I doubt he would’ve gone so extra as to go around the entire city, related to art and lying. “Wasn’t quite yourself.”

…

Wait, the drama club?

Art of lying- could he mean acting? A room related to acting in which I’ve been to before.

The drama club, at D&D nights!

My feet are moving before my brain is, crumpled up note being carefully stuffed into my pants pockets.

…

Not far…

“The bird has taken flight, over.”

“Dustin, will you stop with the codenames?! Just- Just get into position! Over!”

…

How many damn riddles can this man write??? I must’ve collected more than twelve by now!

There’s a small collection of notes in my left hand, my pockets too filled up to stuff any more of them without damaging. My shoes squeak against the floors of the mostly empty school, echoing in my ears as I run from room to room, classroom to classroom.

I swear, If this is some sort of elaborate prank, I’m going to kick Eddie’s ass until Halloween comes.

I let out a groan leaning down to reach another, stuck beneath my– well, not mine, it hasn’t been mine since I graduated– seat at the iconic Hellfire Club lunch table. When I turn to the back, I’m surprised to see there isn’t a riddle this time, no little set of verses to greet me. So, after a small hum of interest, I fold it open.

“If you’ve reached this point of your quest, fair knight, I’m proud to tell you your prize awaits you! (Because I’m not like SOME people who do FAKE OUTS THREE TIMES IN A ROLL)

All that’s left is for you to come and get it. Your king awaits in our usual spot.”

-E.M.

“Pfft– my king?” I can barely pay attention to the soft laugh that leaves my lips, chest too warm and filled with cotton to notice. Dork.

Still, I just set the note with the rest, walking to the nearest exit with a smile on my lips.

I’m still have no idea what Eddie is planning with all of this. Despite the dozen plus notes, he hasn’t gave me a single of hint for the reason of this scavenger… Hunt.

…wait.

I mean, it’s not– it’s not possible, right?

He was talking about inviting Chrissy less than a week ago!

Nah, nah, yeah, it’s not… He wouldn’t. Not me, anyway.

…

Well I just made myself sad.

A groan leaves my lips as I shake my head, hair flowing around with the motion before bouncing and stopping, strands sticking to my eyelashes. Enough with the self pity. I’m better than this. Whatever it is that Eddie has planned to me is going to be awesome.

The hallways echoes with my steps, the sound of my combat boots squeaking in the shiny tile flooring being the only sound as I leave the school. It’s late afternoon at this point, the sun starting to set as everything is painted golden. The walk through the woods is longer than I remember, the late spring wind ruffling through my clothes. After a while, I’m reaching the clearing…

And there’s no one here…?

“Eddie?” I spin in place, looking in between the trees for any sign of the silhouette I know better than my own. It’s quiet here, with the exception of the singing birds and early crickets. I stuff my hands in my pockets, and my brows twitch in worry. “Did I take too long…?”

When I pull them back, one of them holds the last hint. It’s impossible to be anywhere else– he literally said our usual spot, and this is it, isn’t it? Unless my first suspicion was right, and he really meant to spread these around the town– wait, no, then why would he set them up around school? What am I m–

“BOO– OW!”

“EDDIE?!”

My knuckles sting, heart beating louder than a drum as I stare at my fallen best friend, cradling his own face. Immediately I reach for him, falling to my knees by his side.

“Jesus Christ, Munson, you scared the shit out of me! I’m so sorry– Oh, god dammit, sweetheart, c’mere, c'mere… Let me see…” I gently tug his hands from his face, touches practically feather light and with as much care as I can channel. He laughs all the while, completely unbothered by the forming bruise on his cheek.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson– You pack quite the punch! Holy crap, I think you dislocated my jaw–”

“Stop saying shit like that, you’ll manifest it.” I chuckle under my breath (but do check his jaw, making sure everything is in place and I didn’t punch one of his teeth in.). “Why the hell you sneaked up on me like that? What thought process made you think that was a good idea??”

“I don’t know!” He laughs, falling limp on the grass while looking up at me. His smile is almost dopey, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he said he just got baked. He doesn’t smell like weed, tho. Just smoke and cologne, the one that makes me wish I could bury my nose into his neck and just live there. “I thought it’d be a good idea? All I needed to do was distract you for a little while!”

“Distract me?” I snort, brows tilting in a playful frown. “From what?”

“Shit–” And at the sound of my brother’s cursing, I lift my eyes from my best friend’s face.

What do I find if not the rest of the Hellfire club, haphazardly stacked on each other’s shoulders putting up a huge banner on the branches of the nearest threes. Jeff has Mike on his shoulders, while Bryan has Justin– and Lucas and Gareth watch a few steps away, clearly trying to not bring attention to themselves as I turn to them.

“Michael, if you ruin my jacket with your dirty ass shoes–”

“I’m trying not to! Stop moving!”

“Guys! Guys, I’m gonna fall! BRYAN–”

“You’re not gonna fall, Dustbin– stop being a pussy and just tie the goddamn thing.”

“What the hell…?” I mumble, even more confused than when I found the kids sneaking Eleven into Mike’s basement.

Eddie doesn’t answer me with anything but a cackle, getting up to his feet and jogging up to the rest of the club. His grin is so wide his dimples are lost between smile lines, brown eyes shining in the late afternoon sun that warms my skin and cheeks. He skids to a stop under the banner, not even waiting to check if it’s tied up properly before tugging the bottom and unrolling it.

‘COME DITCH PROM WITH THIS FREAK?’

And the arrows badly painted on the bottom point directly at him, that turns around to beam my way with his smile brighter than the sun.

…

I don’t know if the guys have fallen silent or if I just gone deaf, but I don’t have the mental power to look. It’s like the whole world turned… quiet.

My heart can’t seem to choose between skipping beats or skidding to stop. I can feel my skin tingling, my knuckles going from stinging to burning. As does the back of my neck and the bottom of my gut.

I read the words, over and over again, shocked…

“Is this…” My tongue feels like it’s knotted, tied and shipped to the other side of the country. No words could ever describe– whatever the hell I’m feeling right now. “Are you… Is– Are you for real??”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, the warm orange lighting almost making it look like his cheeks are dyed a soft red. His smile is confident, almost cocky and playful as he looks down at me. “As real as a I can be.”

My mouth feels drier than a desert, and I swallow harshly. I can’t turn my eyes from him, like I’m transfixed… which, in someways, I am.

He has hypnotized me, a puppet on his strings.

I feel starstruck.

Eddie takes my silent as a go ahead, because after standing under the banner for a second, he slowly walks to me again. For some reason, I don’t even think to get back on my feet until he’s almost right in front of me, his head obscuring the sun as if he’s the only star I need.

“Henderson,” He says, the smirk on his lips almost sheepish. “I’ve got to apologize. I’ve been… kind of a shit best friend for the last couple years. You’ve been my paladin, my white knight, the voice of reason when I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t even thank you properly.”

He extends his hand, the black stone in his ring finger catching the sunlight from his smile.

“So let me make it up to you… Will you let me take you with me to not-prom?”

My throat closes up, my eyes sting, but my smile is as bright as the moon.

“Yeah, I will.”

And I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.

taglist! @eddiesgirlforever @plk-18 thx for the support and the patience!! :D

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #HD&SC #god it took me SO LONG to write this!#six months!#jesus!#hopefully next part will be easier #although it will DEFINITELY be the longest but no spoilers #on other news #i edited this while high on cold medicine and in great pain from cramps #sorry if something doesn't make sense #eddie munson #trash's writing tag o/

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unadulteratedfandomtrash · 2 years ago

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Steve Rogers x Reader ~ April Fool’s Day [Shield Adventures]

A/N: I came up with this idea after April Fool’s Day, sadly, but I figured you guys won’t mind a belated fic! There will be more “Shield Adventures” stories to come in the future.

[My Marvel Masterlist]

Word Count: 1967

“Steve!!!”

Before the Quinjet’s ramp has a chance to lower all the way onto the landing pad, (Y/n) is running straight into the aircraft, making a beeline for her husband clad in red, white, and blue. The man in question has to brace himself and the young woman all but throws herself into his embrace.

“Hello to you too, (Y/n),” he chuckles softly. “As much as I’ve missed you, I am pretty sweaty right now. I wouldn’t exactly recommend hugging until I am out of the suit.”

(Y/n)’s head lifts away from the comfortable spot between the blond super soldier’s pectorals to flash a pout. She pulls away with hesitance, but Steve promises to make it up to her with cuddles on the couch, which immediately puts a smile on her face.

“Oh yeah,” (Y/n) suddenly exclaims, “Tony told me he needs your shield. He mentioned something about upgrades and polishing it.”

“”Right now? Can’t it wait until after I settle down and finish up my mission reports?”

“I can drop it off with him. I have to head over to his lab anyway. Tony’s been working on a new design for my uniform that’ll give me more maneuverability when I move my arms around. It’s pretty neat.”

While (Y/n) continues to ramble on about the new upgrades, Steve cannot help but zone out. Rather than focusing on the conversation, his attention is on (Y/n). Ever since the beginning of their relationship, Steve has admired her ability to grow excited over every little aspect of life. Something as simple as improved mobility in a tactical garment normally does not elicit too much excitement, but with (Y/n), it is as if Christmas came early.

“Steveee,” she whines, stomping her foot all the while. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, yes. I heard you. You’re getting some awesome suit upgrades to let you flail around better on the field.”

His phrasing brings back her pout. With arms crossed in front of her chest, (Y/n) begins to explain in heavy detail about her telekinetic powers requiring calculated movements, not uncontrolled flailing.

“Don’t worry,” Sam butts with a smirk as he makes his way down the ramp. “Steve flails just as much whenever he uses the shield. You should’ve seen him today. His arms looked like those weird balloons at the car dealerships each time he threw that frisbee of his.”

The couple, scandalized by the former airman’s remark, send him a glare and threaten to assign the least-favorable task come the next mission.

“Anyway, I should get going.” Wrapping her arms around Steve, (Y/n) squeezes her husband once more in a tight embrace, only this time, her hands find their way to his shield as she pulls away from him. “I’ll see you tonight for those cuddles. Bye, Steve!!”

Steve finds himself shaking his head with amusement as he watches his beloved run off across the landing pad.

“Well…there’s no telling when I’m getting that back.”

“I got it!”

Grinning like the cat that got the cream, (Y/n) holds up the shield in triumph as she enters Tony’s lab. She nearly runs into DUM-E, but her quick reflexes, and the shield, save her just in time when the robot nearly hits her head with a fire extinguisher. Unfortunately, her safety comes at the cost of DUM-E’s mechanical arm, which is now bent and dented at a weird angle.

“I invite you to my lab, and here you are, breaking my stuff.”

“It’s fine! That’s what the shield is for,” she snickers, “And DUM-E has been broken since you made him. You have no one to blame but yourself for that one.”

“I’ll remember that the next time you come to me for a favor,” the man teases while holding up a large box. “Are you sure you wanna do this? Cap isn’t gonna be too happy in the morning.”

“He’ll be fine. You said the glue will come off with a bit of soap and water, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Tony eyes her warily. Despite his excitement to prank Steve, he will suffer the consequences if the blond super soldier finds out who lended a helping hand with the prank. He knows for a fact that (Y/n) will be left off easy for simply being married to him. Tony, on the other hand, will not. He already had a shaky start at the relationship when they first met to save New York. While their relationship has been mended since then and he and Steve are both friends and coworkers, pranking him feels like a line that should never be crossed. Especially when it involves his shield. “You better not mention my name. Tony played no part in your shenanigans, you hear me?” “Yes, sir,” (Y/n) replies as her hand comes up in mock salute. “Now, hand over the gems and glitter.”

The sun has long since set beyond the horizon. Disregarding this, Steve elects to keep the lights off in the bedroom as he lays on top of the duvet, his eyes close to just rest as he waits for (Y/n) to return from whatever it is she has occupied herself with after having run off with his shield. Being a man of his word, Steve has stayed awake in order to fulfill his promise of cuddles, yet he has no clue where his wife could be. “Maybe I should call her,” he mutters to himself once he realizes midnight is nearly creeping up. Yet, right as he decides to turn to grab his phone from the nightstand, the familiar sound of the bedroom door creaking open has him freeze.

Despite being shrouded in partial darkness thanks to the cloudy night sky keeping the moonlight from shining through the windows, (Y/n) carefully sneaks across the master bedroom. She carefully tiptoes with her uniform in one hand and the leather shield bag in the other. There is a soft clunk as she sets down the bag in its designated corner by Steve’s nightstand; the super soldier has grown paranoid of potential break-ins or emergency missions, so he has gotten into the habit of keeping the weapon within arms reach.

“Ya’ know, if you were trying to be sneaky, you’d have to try harder.” Steve watches in amusement as his beloved jumps in the air like a spooked feline. A small chuckle escapes once he notices the sour look on her face.

“Steve, you scared me! Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Well, someone was feeling clingy earlier today, so I promised cuddles, remember?”

“Oh yeah!” Dropping the uniform to the floor in favor of physical affection, (Y/n) all but dives onto the bed, landing on top of her husband’s chest and successfully knocking the wind out of him. “Snuggle time!” Strong arms wrap around the smaller form sprawled across him. The cool spring breeze is nothing compared to the heat radiating from the super soldier’s body. The warmth has (Y/n) sighing in comfort, nuzzling her head against Steve’s pectorals with a hum of delight. “So, what kind of changes did Tony make?” “I dunno. Wasn’t paying attention.” “You weren’t paying attention to your partner in mischief?” “No,” she argues, “Sam is my partner in mischief. Tony just provides the money to fuel the chaos if he approves of it.”

“I knew you had looped Tony into your shenanigans.” “Shhh. It’s late. Go to bed, old man.” “You’re married to this old man,” Steve teases, pressing soft kisses along her neck.

“Yup. And grandpas like you need sleep,” (Y/n) states with finality, leaving the blond super soldier to chuckle even more when he peers down to see her eyes fluttering shut with exhaustion. “Good night.”

“Good night, (Y/n).”

“(Y/n)!!!” The woman in question freezes at the sound of her name being yelled from the other side of the compound. She woke up early to evade Steve, and to solidify her reason for disappearing, the young woman dragged Bucky and Sam to accompany her in an extensive training session.

“Ooooh, he sounds mad,” Sam remarks with a smirk. “What’d you do this time?”

“This time? Are you accusing me of always torturing my poor husband?” “Well,” Bucky joins in, “your ‘poor husband’ always uses that voice when he’s upset. I would know. He’s been doing that since the 40’s.”

Rather than answering, (Y/n) chooses to drag the two men in front of her to hide behind them right as the double doors slam open. The two veterans in the gym are unable to contain their laughter once they realize the reason for the blond super soldier’s anger. In his hands is a shield covered with red, white, and blue glitter with rhinestones covering the star in the center.

“Goin’ to a party or something, Cap?” Sam manages to wheeze out between choked breaths. “Star spangled man with a plan? More like a sparkly spangled man with a plan!”

Steve sends Sam an unamused glare. He does not need to look hard to find his wife, given that Sam is hunched over in an attempt to catch his breath from laughing too hard. Words are not needed as he glances back and forth between the bedazzled shield and (Y/n). “Hi, Steve.” “Are you going to explain yourself, (Y/n)?”

“Happy April Fool’s Day?”

Without speaking, Steve gestures for (Y/n) to make her way to his side. But instead of listening to his silent request, she chooses to simply peek out from behind Bucky’s metal arm. Her eyes stay trained on her husband, waiting for any sudden movements so that she can panic react accordingly.

“It was just a fun little prank, Steve. No need to get upset.” “Upset? (Y/n), my shield is covered in glitter and jewels. How am I supposed to get them all off in time for the next mission?” “But Tony said the gl-” A hand slaps itself over her mouth as soon as the woman realizes her mistake. Unfortunately for her, it is too late to take back what she had said. Steve heard her loud and clear; the blond super soldier sets down his newly-bedazzled shield by the entrance in favor of using both arms to cross them over his chest. Authority oozes from his stance as he raises an eyebrow, waiting for (Y/n) to speak up. “Tony said what exactly?” (Y/n) mumbles the answer meekly, but the only person who can hear her is the two men acting as human shields, and being the cheeky person he is, Bucky shoves her towards his best friend. A gasp can be heard at the sudden betrayal. “I’m not actually mad,” Steve admits softly when he realizes (Y/n) is actually worried. “I know you were just having a bit of fun. I know you well enough to know that if you were the mastermind behind a prank, there won’t be any permanent damage.” “Tony promised that the glue he bought should wash right off with soap, water, and a bit of scrubbing.” With a quick kiss pressed to (Y/n)’s forehead, Steve picks up his shield and turns around to leave.

“Thank you. But don’t think I’m gonna let you get away with this without some form of punishment. The next mission we have, you’re benched.” “What??” “Love you, sweetheart!” Steve exits the room just as quickly as he had initially entered it, stomping away with purpose as he enters the elevator and instructs FRIDAY to lead him to a certain genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist; as (Y/n), Bucky, and Sam resume their training, they choose to ignore the distant shouting from the floor above.

The End

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vaguely-concerned · 2 years ago

Text

A post-Inquisition comic about Hawke coming home, because my heart has been aching since 2014 and I needed some catharsis at long last haha. I drew most of this over Christmas but I never intended it to become a longer thing as I was doing the first page, which is why Hawke's outfit changes completely after that. Huge plus of drawing with a ballpoint pen: forces you into an anti-perfectionist YOLO whatever-happens-happens mindstate, since once you've put the mark down on the page you just have to live with it. Huge drawback of drawing with a ballpoint pen: once you've put the mark down on the page you just have to live with it. Ah well, c'est la vie

Transcript of the dialogue under the cut/some corrections, because some of it got lost along the way to digital or fell victim to my terrible handwriting, and in some places I changed my mind about the wording but as previously mentioned: ballpoint pen and all that entails lmao

Merrill: Varric said you tried to stay behind in the Fade.

Hawke: Yeah, well, there’s some BIG potential in the housing market in there. Could’ve made a killing. Alas, it was not to be.

Merrill: Hawke, I — I don’t think you understand what you mean to us. Or… or if you do, I don’t understand how you could still think — how you could act as if…

Hawke: …As if?

Merrill: As if you don’t MATTER!

Merrill: We would follow you anywhere, if only you’d let us. You have to know that.

Hawke: Yes, I know. I think that might be part of the problem. Maybe you guys should upgrade your standards for who to follow from ‘the first and best person in the group with any sense of direction’.

Merrill: To guide those who are lost is an act of hellathen — a noble struggle. There is no shame in it.

Hawke: There is when what you’re most likely to lead them to is grim and painful doom. I seem to have an unfortunate trend on my hands. If one is to be regarded as misfortune and two starts to look like carelessness, I shudder to think what I’ve been up to.

Merrill: Is that why you sent us away?

Hawke: I never —

Merrill: Hawke, you are wonderfully clever in so many ways, but please don’t act as if I do not know you.

Hawke: It… was my responsibility.

Merrill: Was it?

Hawke: My fault, certainly.

Merrill: We were there when you found Corypheus too, you know. And we couldn’t stop it either. Does that make it our guilt as well?

Hawke: It’s not the same.

Merrill: Isn’t it? Do you think Bethany’s to blame as well, through blood alone?

Hawke: HAH! No, I don’t. And it’s very unkind of you to call me out on it, by the way. Rude.

Merrill: I do know you pretty well by now.

Hawke: You do.

Hawke: It wasn’t about that, anyway. Not really. It was good old-fashioned run-of-the-mill cowardice.

Merrill: I don’t believe that.

Hawke: It was. It had already been on my mind, but as that demon spoke I could no longer pretend… I couldn’t ignore anymore that…

Merrill: …Hawke?

Hawke: …that I would rather die than have to see another one of you — to have to bury one more — to fail you all yet ag—... I can’t…I can’t.

Merrill: Oh, Hawke. I’m so sorry.

Hawke: I can’t lead anyone anywhere, Merrill. I’m lost too.

Merrill: I know. I know. We all are. But —

Merrill: But you gave us the gift of not having to walk that path alone. When there was no other shelter in this world, you gave us a home. Please, lethallin, let us give the same to you. You don’t have to lead to anywhere. Just allow us to walk beside you. It pains me to think of you all alone.

You know, I, um — I still have that ball of twine Varric gave me. We could share it, if you want.

Hawke: That’d be great, Merrill. Thank you.

Merrill: I missed you so much. All of you.

Hawke: Even Fenris?

Merrill: Even Fenris. And his scowl.

Hawke: …I missed you too. Ah! That reminds me — I’ve got something for you! A gift.

Merrill: Oh, you didn’t have to —

Hawke: Take it as an apology for all the Wintersend presents I missed while I was away.

Merrill: A feather? Ma serannas, lethallin, it’s lovely! I’ve never seen one like this, what kind of bird is it from? Hm. It’s so big… This is going to sound so silly, but if I didn’t know any better I would have almost though it was from a griff —

…a griff…

…a…???!! :D

Hawke: Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything. Well. What tiny part of everything I actually understood, anyway. …I’m sorry, Merrill. I’m back now, I promise. And you would have made a much better Keeper than you give yourself credit for. Let’s go home.

Merrill: Oh, yes, let’s! Varric let everyone know, so Aveline should be waiting outside the city, and Isabela said she’d pick up Fenris once her ship is ready again, and — and please tell me about the griffons, lethallin, I am dying to know!

(please imagine Hawke doing a frighteningly good 'no shit there I was' Varric impression and then explaining whatever the fuck went down at Weisshaupt here, THE END)

Also some clarifications: Hawke did not kill Anders, he just feels extremely bad about and responsible for everything at all times (he asked Anders to leave and sided with the mages), and Hawke has been travelling with (Circle) Bethany the whole time since Weisshaupt, so that's why Merrill doesn't mention her. She Is Okay, Baby Sister Safe and Accounted For, please do not worry.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #merrill #hawke #my art #this is not ship art but honestly if you want it to be I don't mind lol #my hawke is aro/ace and/or homoromantic demisexual. sort of (it's complicated)#but the friendship arc with merrill has always been special to me. so I made this about it

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passerine-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Silent Sparks - Volt 56

Warnings: HEAVY TALK OF S/H AND SU*C*DE Word count: 3860

Notes: Italics - Tsukare signing Bold italics - Family member/friend signing 'Italics with apostrophes' - Thoughts

Masterlist

Volt 55 | Volt 57

Over the next few days, I got a little more sleep, but not a significant amount. We kept training our ultimate moves, and I finally got my costume back, trying out the new cables and enjoying being able to swing around. It felt similar to skateboarding in a sense, it was freeing and relaxing. On the screen of my glasses, I saw a giant rock falling towards All Might, and every hero will say this, but my body moved on its own. I sprinted towards him, sending out a cable to the wall to help pull me forward. My free arm wrapped around his torso and just as we moved, Midoriya kicked it out of the way, breaking it into hundreds of tiny rocks.

"Thank you, Young Tsukare. I see you've gotten an upgrade to your costume, very nice." I raised an eyebrow but quickly tried to mask my look of uneasiness.

"Yeah, thanks. Hey, 'Zuku! Since when do you fight with your legs?" My friend sent me a smile and jogged over, I met him half way, shocked with his new moves.

"I call it Shoot Style, I actually got the idea from a girl named Hatsume in the support course."

"She's a bit out there but she seems nice, I'm glad she gave you a good idea dude. And this doesn't mean you get to go breaking your legs now. Got it?" His eyes went wide under my stare and he quickly nodded.

"Got it! So have you picked out any names yet?"

"I'm thinking Shattering Waves for when I tear up the ground and Deafening Accuracy for my pin point break on the wall." He almost lit up like a christmas tree hearing the names I was considering.

"Those are perfect!" I laughed along with his excitement, freezing for a minute before relaxing as Yoru swung an arm over my shoulders.

"Pretty nice names, and nice saves to both of you. When'd you get your suit upgraded?" I fiddled with the gloves on my hands, tucking my arms closer to my stomach nervously.

"Woah, Onryo! Is that how you moved so fast? Can I see?" Midoriya happily asked.

"Dude, Midoriya, what was that? You swooped in and wasted that rock." I perked up at the sound of Denki and saw him standing beside Kirishima.

"I always thought you were more of a puncher." Kiri tagged in.

"And Onryo? Wicked save, were those cables that you shot out of your gloves?" I nodded and awkwardly rubbed the back of my neck, hoping to hide the blush on my face as just overworking myself.

"I am. Or, I was. It's these new soles. Hatsume suggested them and I really think they'll really up my game." I finally looked down and saw what he was talking about. "Plus, Iida's been showing me how to use my body better, so my fighting style has changed. I've only just figured out what direction to go in, I still have a lot of work to do. Nothing I'd call an ultimate move yet." I laughed as Midoriya still held his foot.

"Zuku, you can put your foot down already." He flushed and quickly dropped his foot, falling in the process. I laughed and walked over to help him up. "Great balance skills."

"Oh hush." He mumbled, his tiny bit of sass peaking out.

"I dunno. Based on that kick, I'd say you're further along then you think. So, you should be ready for this test." All Might commented and I stared at him in shock.

'Is he helping?'

I rubbed my temples as I processed what just happened.

"You guys made improvements to your costumes, too?" I heard my best friend ask the duo in front of us.

"Yeah! I see you've noticed we look pretty awesome." Denki said with two thumbs up and a wide grin.

"You two aren't the only ones here with a brand-new style. We've all been making changes here and there. Nows the time to upgrade, right?" I nodded along to Kirishima's words and gave him a fist bump.

"Just wait! My new special gear is gonna blow your mind. It's a serious power boost. Wanna see? C'mon. It's totally amazing!" I smiled at Denki's enthusiasm.

"That's enough, Class A." I turned at the sound of my Uncle Seki and waved to him. "Class B is scheduled to use this training room every afternoon." Denki started complaining about their poor timing and I placed a hand on his shoulder, watching as he perked back up a bit. "Eraser, get your kids out of our way." I rolled my eyes at my Uncle's theatrics.

"You're not trying to kick us out early when we have ten whole minutes left, are you?" I watched as Dad bickered back.

"Hey, did ya hear? The license exam has a fifty percent pass rate. That means your entire class might fail." Monoma announced and started cackling.

"Couldn't the same be said for you?" He stopped mid laugh and looked at me. "Shove off already Monoma, nobody wants to listen to your senile ramblings."

"Senile? Sorry ginger, but I think you have to flunk out to go back to the basics and learn what that word means." I rubbed my temples.

"No, I got it right, senile is most commonly in the elderly and uh, based on how you dress? I'd say you're pushing it a century or so. And you seem to be forgetting a lot, like how you were the only one in your class that had to take supplementary classes during camp." He buffered for a moment until I heard a very familiar voice behind me.

"Onryo. Behave." I glared at Monoma, listening to what he had to say next. "We won't be in the same location. Our classes applied to different spots." I raised an eyebrow cockily.

"There are two exam days. In June and in September. And the tests are held in three different places. We don't want students from the same place fighting. We split you up. Each school has at most one class at a single location." I watched as Monoma sighed and I bit back a laugh.

"How sad we won't be able to face each other directly." He announced full of his theatrics.

"How sad I won't get to watch you fail." He froze again.

"You don't have much room to talk, after all, you're fifty percent of the reason camp was cancelled early." In my glasses, I watched as some of my classmates heads snapped in our direction. My brother swung down and stood beside Midoriya, clearly waiting to see if he had to intervene.

"Excuse me?" I asked in a low tone, my blood boiling as I took a step closer.

"Don't act so perplexed. We all know the truth. If you and that angry blond weren't at the training camp, then none of it would have happened. We would already have our provisional licenses if it weren't for the two of you." He said as he took two steps closer.

"You don't know a damn thing you're talking about, you stuck up, pretentious twat." He raised an eyebrow and stepped even closer.

"Oh? I don't?" He gestured to my arms. "Just like how you couldn't even finish the job they started? What a fruitless attempt." And that's what it took for me to finally reach my breaking point. I reached up and grabbed his tie tight, watching the panic on his face as I yanked him down the small bit to my height. Hitoshi, Midoriya, Kirishima and Denki rushed forward, each of them ready to stop a fight but simply stood still when I didn't swing.

"You keep your fucking mouth, shut. Happy? You hit a damn nerve. So let me make this clear, you say one more thing out of line in front of me, I'll gladly take a suspension over it. Because you're gonna be the one on the ground crying, and I'm gonna be the one standing. All it takes to get half way there," I swept his legs out from under him and held him up by the collar of his shirt, "is that much effort. Run your fucking mouth again, I dare you." I spat out, fuming at what he had to say. He kept his mouth shut and I dropped him to the ground. I turned to Dad, signing to him that I was going to take a run around the school, needing to distract my mind, before taking out my hearing aids.

I hopped on the schools track and did a few laps. But even that didn't calm me down. I pulled my phone out of my duffel bag after an hour of jogging and saw plenty of messages.

Tsukababes Pokémon

From Scraggy: So that was amarillo?

From Espeon: Yeah.

From Rayquaza: Yep

From Venomoth: Do you think he's okay? I've never seen him that angry and he's not answering the group chat

From Pikachu: I'm worried too

From Boldore: That was crazy, I thought we were gonna have to hold him back

From Scraggy: I'm surprised your dad didn't get in between it

From Espeon: He was prepared to stop Onryo from throwing a punch, however he still allows us to fall down and get back up.

From Pikachu: I've never seen him that mad, I just hope he's okay

Class A Baddies

(Turtwig - Tsu, Typhlosion - Bakugou, Machamp - Shoji, Reshiram - Iida, Clefa - Uraraka, Toxitricity - Jirou, Bruxish - Aoyama, Shaymin - Koda, Machoke - Sato, Murkrow - Tokoyami, Mienfoo - Ojiro, Diancie - Hagakure, Jirachi - Yaomomo, Espeon - Shinsou, Boldore - Kirishima, Pikachu - Kaminari, Regice - Todoroki, Rayquaza - Midoriya, Venomoth - Mina, Scraggy - Sero, Whismur - Tsukare)

From Reshiram: Tsukare, are you alright?

From Clefa: I hope you're okay, Monoma had no right to say whatever he did

From Diancie: What even did he say to get Tsukare that mad?

From Venomoth: Yeah! Kiri, what'd he say?

From Mienfoo: Should we really be butting into Tsukare's private life like this?

From Turtwig: I agree with Ojiro. It doesn't feel right to ask personal questions like that, especially after he had a rough day

From Machoke: If Tsukare reacted like that, then he must've had a good reason

From Machamp: Monoma was outta line

From Rayquaza: Shoji?? You heard?

From Machamp: I was trying to listen to Aizawa, accidentally heard what Monoma and Tsukare were arguing about

From Typhlosion: The fuck did that shitty extra say?

From Espeon: None of your business.

From Typhlosion: I wasn't asking you, mind fuck

From Rayquaza: Kacchan, it's really not our place to say. It's up to Onryo if he wants the class knowing or not

From Typhlosion: Shut your trap, shitty nerd

From Turtwig: We shouldn't push into Onryo's personal life like this, it's up to him. Those who know, know. Those who don't should wait until Onryo feels comfortable enough to tell them.

From Regice: I'm curious as to what was said, but if he would like to keep it private we should respect that.

From Drowzee: Tomorrow before training we're talking to Nedzu. Vlad and I called for a meeting with him.

From Espeon: Are you okay?

From Boldore: You okay, bro? I know how hard that was, let me know if you need anything

From Scraggy: I don't know what was said but I'm sorry for whatever he said

From Rayquaza: Monoma had no right to say that, are you alright?

From Pikachu: Hey

From Pikachu: Are you okay?

From Pikachu: I'm sorry that douche wad said that

From Pikachu: He had no right to

I sighed and tucked my phone away, heading back to the locker rooms to take a quick shower and change into regular clothes. I put my hearing aids back in for the walk, knowing plenty of my classmates would bombard me with questions. On the path, I heard someone talking behind me. Not at me, but rather tauntingly.

"He's not scary, I should've given him a taste of his own medicine, show him how to really use his quirk. Maybe he'd have better control if he didn't lose his hearing." I tensed up but kept walking, my pace slower, waiting for him and whoever he was with to catch up.

"Monoma, just shut up already. You're being a dick. Tsukare's a nice guy, plus he's right in front of us, cut it out." Kendo chided.

"Please, don't you know? He can't hear us anyways. Oh and his brother? With a quirk like that, he should just drop out and become a villain." I turned around and stopped in my tracks, watching as Kendo smacked him on the back of the head and he stared at me shocked.

"Wow, look at that, the kid with barely any hearing heard every word of bullshit that just came out your mouth. Shocker, I have hearing aids. Talk about me all you want behind me back, but you leave my friends and my family out of it. At least when I say something, I'm confident enough to say it to your face." I said as I got closer to him, barely a foot of space between us. Kendo stepped back and raised her hands in mock surrender.

"You did this to yourself Monoma."

"Please, you don't scare me. I'm only speaking the truth. Why don't you run along and finish that failed attempt, hm? Or maybe you can get even more attention and have the League of Villains do that job right?" Suddenly he crumpled to the ground and I saw Kendo's large fist raised above him.

"I'm so sorry about him. Are you okay?" She asked sweetly but all I could feel was my throat closing.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Uh, thank you, for knocking him out. But I have to get back to my dorm." She nodded and I quickly turned and sped off.

'Do it.'

'You're worthless anyways.'

'Why am I still here?'

I took a deep, shaky breath and walked into the dorms. Immediately, most of them circled around me and started asking what happened and if I was alright and it felt like a dam inside me broke. My body felt like it was on autopilot as I walked towards the first person I could, not even caring that it was Bakugou. Sobs racked my body as I hugged him tightly, tears soaking into his shirt but I couldn't find it in myself to care anymore. Slowly, his arms stiffly settled on my upper back, which only made me cry harder. I couldn't stop the tears, no matter how hard I tried, they just wouldn't stop.

"Let's go to your dorm, ear bleed." Bakugou said after a few minutes and guided me to my dorm room. Without looking, I already knew my brother was following us, Midoriya and the others probably were too. "Mind fuck and this shitty nerd can come, the rest of you extras stay down here." He snapped at everyone before we went up the elevator and to my room. I curled up on my bed, tears still streaming down my face in what seemed to be a never ending waterfall. Midoriya sat at the foot of my bed, Hitoshi sat beside me rubbing my arm and Bakugou straddled the desk chair, arms resting on the top of it. "You gonna tell us what the hell happened?" I nervously started scratching at my wrist, Hitoshi lightly dragging my arm away and handing me a fidget cube.

"Is it because of what Monoma said earlier?" Hitoshi gently asked and I shook my head.

"What'd that dumbass even say?" Hitoshi looked to me and I nodded, furiously wiping my eyes.

"He started blaming you and Onryo for us having to leave camp, he told Monoma he had no idea what he was talking about, that asshole pushed his buttons and said that Onryo couldn't even go through and attempt to finish what they started." Bakugou's eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at the ground.

"Dont fucking listen to that asshole. He doesn't know a damn thing."

"Onryo? You said it wasn't because of earlier, did something else happen with him?" Midoriya asked me hesitantly and I slowly nodded.

I don't wanna talk about it.

"No. I'm not allowing that. If you don't want to tell them, that's fine, but you're at least telling me. Fuck the family rule right now, if it's bad enough that he got you to cry in front of everyone here, then I'm not taking 'I don't wanna talk about it.' So what did he say." I shrunk in on myself as Hitoshi scolded me. I already knew he wouldn't take it, but I was shocked to see him demand that I tell him.

He told me to finish the job.

"What?" Hitoshi asked as he let out a breath.

He started talking shit about me while him and Kendo were walking. Going on about how he could use my quirk better and shit. That I couldn't hear him anyways so what's the harm of voicing it when he's behind me. Then he started talking about you and saying you should drop out and become a villain, that's when I snapped and he ended up telling me that I should just go finish the job or I could go to the League of Villains to get more attention and make sure they actually do it right.

My brothers face fell, along with Midoriya's, Bakugou looked appalled. Hitoshi pulled me into a hug and held me, another wave of tears starting. After a minute, Bakugou and Midoriya left us alone.

"Can I have some time alone, please?" He nodded and gave me one final squeeze before leaving my room.

I sat there for twenty minutes, wishing that this feeling inside me would go away. That if I hoped hard enough, then I'd stop feeling like this. It didn't happen, I only continued to feel worse as I stewed in my thoughts. I got up and opened my desk drawer, in the far back right corner I grabbed something that I haven't used in years. The small bit of sharp metal that I found while moving, glinting in the light as I grasped it.

The bandages on my legs itched but I ignored it as I pulled my sweatpants on. Every step hurt, my thighs feeling like they were on fire, but I was finally able to feel something. Something other then depression and misery and dread towards my own existence. I felt ever so slightly more alive. My phone buzzed on my bed and I saw a text from an unknown number.

From Unknown: Hey it's Yoru

From Tropius: Hope you don't mind that I got your number from Eraser

From Tropius: Can you come meet me outside the dorm building?

To Tropius: Yeah, be down in a sec

I pocketed my phone and slid on my shoes, rushing outside despite all the lingering eyes watching in the common room.

Yoru sat on the bench patiently, standing up straight once I shut the door. I stood there awkwardly and watched as he pointed to the bench, both of us heading over and sitting in an awkward silence.

"You've changed a lot. You're not the same scared little kid at the foster center anymore." I nodded stiffly.

"Yeah, a lots changed. You've changed too." He looked at me and cocked an eyebrow.

"How have I changed?"

"You're more laidback. Care free. I have a feeling you either hang out with or work with Hawks a lot, at the very least, you look up to him. You act very similarly." He looked at me with wide eyes. "What?"

"I.. I always forgot how smart and perceptive you are. I see why Nedzu wants to get your IQ tested." I blushed out of embarrassment and shrugged. "Seriously, you don't give yourself enough credit."

"So what do you mean I've changed?" He smirked and leaned back.

"Well, when you were a kid, the second that blond haired kid opened his mouth, you would've hid behind the nearest person or tried to blend in with a crowd. Let alone you grabbing his collar like that. You fought back, and you swear like a sailor now." I huffed out a weak laugh and nodded. "You aren't afraid to use your quirk anymore, either. You stand up instead of standing down. I'm proud of you." I looked at him in disbelief. "I am. It makes me feel proud knowing you know how to handle yourself. I know you don't need my protection anymore but I'm still going to protect you." I nodded and swallowed the lump of emotions down my throat. "How'd you know I'm friends with Hawks?" I smirked and leaned back beside him.

"You act a lot like him. He's the one who flew me off the roof so I've met him. He's very laid back, down to earth but also exuberant. You see how he talks in interviews and during the hero rankings each year." He hummed and nodded.

"You got a point. Didn't realize how much he rubbed off on me." I softly laughed beside him. "Do you feel ready for the test?" I shrugged and tucked my arms against my stomach.

"I don't know. I'm somewhat confident in my abilities, and I know at least some of the class will have my back if I need help at all. But we're all at an unfair disadvantage, and I think Toshi and I are the only ones in the class who fully realize that right now."

"Disadvantage, how?" He asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.

"You already know, you lived through it. U.A. students are targeted first, everyone saw us in the sports festival. It's a battle strategy, pick off the weakest and strongest that you know about so they can't get you when you least expect it, then go for the unknown variables." He smirked, pride radiating from him. "What?"

"I'm glad you realize that. Do you got a game plan?" I shrugged, still not fully sure on what it is.

"I'll probably end up sticking with Toshi most of the time."

"Not that blonde haired kid?" I looked at him confused before letting out a breath.

"Denki and I are.. just friends. What about you? Do you have a significant other?" He blushed and I elbowed his bicep. "C'mon, spill."

"There's.. this girl. But she's interested in someone else." I gave him a half frown and patted his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Yoru. What's her name?" He shook his head and leaned back.

"Nah, I'll leave it a mystery for you." I sighed dramatically and looked at the stars. "So, a meeting with Nedzu tomorrow, huh?" I nodded slightly.

"Yeah, and Dad, Uncle Seki and that douche canoe." He snorted at my language.

"Douche canoe? C'mon that isn't even a thing." I shrugged and leaned back.

"Eh, if I can put the words together, I'll probably use it at some point."

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cleostoohot · 2 years ago

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*A confusing success story*

Hi Cleo. I’ve never done one of these before but something odd happened to me about three weeks ago and I was hoping you could help me understand. So I’m African and I attend a university in Europe. I flew home for summer and on the 2nd of this month I had to fly back to school. And I’m probably flying back home for Christmas this December. It’s a long flight about 7 hours from my country to Dubai and then 5 hours from Dubai to my final destination. So because I’ve been having to do long flights from home to school I’ve been desiring flying first class. It seems so comfortable and luxurious than sitting in economy for hours on end. Even in the airport, all the privileges that you get from being a first class passenger are so great and I wanted that to make travelling easier. But of course it’s really expensive and it’s not something that I was actively going to manifest because being able to afford a ticket to go home is a privilege in itself and I’m fine with that. Anyways so on the first flight to Dubai I was on the double decker plane where it’s business and first class on the top and economy on the bottom. And I kid you not I spent the entire flight sort of complaining to my self and just wishing to be in the top deck all comfortable and shit. Just basically doing all the things you’re not supposed to do when it comes to manifesting. And again I wasn’t trying to manifest first class or business class so I didn’t care. And even though I was uncomfortable I was sort of happy that people get to be comfy in first class I was happy for them and wishing I was them. So I get to Dubai wait 5 hours to connect and as I was boarding the plane the guy checking the boarding passes goes “Hold on one second you’ve been upgraded so let me change your boarding pass” HUH?! I was so confused and I asked him why I got upgraded and he just shrugged, he looked confused as to why I would even ask him that but hello???? this is Emirates are they really just upgrading random college kids to business class? So yes I got upgraded to business class and it was magical (I’ll dm you pictures of proof) It was everything I wanted and expected it to be but I don’t see why I was upgraded when I did the exact opposite of everything you’re supposed to do in terms of manifesting. Yes I have first class on my mood board and all but still I was in such a lack mindset so why did I manifest this still?

well first of all.. congrats😭 hope you enjoyed ⬇️⬇️

and as for why it manifested. i honestly think it had to do with you constantly visualizing being in first class. because you could say something as simple as “i will never go on a rollercoaster” and by you saying that, you envision it. that’s my best explanation 😭. hey i just do the manifesting shit okay go ask sammy😂🤷🏽‍♀️. BUT! with that situation you should start affirming that things always work out for you and you always get what you want so that more things like that happen.

y’all better not inbox me worrying about “so if i envision what i don’t desire it will manifest 😧” NO! that’s all imma say.. i don’t wanna hear it

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nkatr84 · 2 years ago

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Scrooge: Old Vs New

There’s a few posts I wanted to make. The new Guardians Of the Galaxy Holiday Special. Disenchanted. Slumberland. Wednesday. That one Moon Knight fan fic sitting in my drafts. But I’ve got to talk about this.

Scrooge: A Christmas Carol on Netflix came out this year in 2022. While Critics haven’t been too kind to it (I’ll get to my theory why in a second) y’all on Tik Tok and Tumblr have been losing your minds. You’re falling in love with the music (particularly Later Never Comes). But mostly…many of you have this reaction.

The surprising hottie in question being this rendition of Ebenezer Scrooge.

And I get it. As is tradition in animated takes of Dickens immortal classic, the animators clearly took inspiration from their voice actor Mr. Luke Evans. And Mr. Evans is a very handsome man. So I’m right there with you guys simping over an old man with a sexy voice.

But! I would be remiss if I failed to educate my fellow fangirls, fanboys and all between that this movie…is technically a remake.

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Directed in 1970 by Ronald Neame, Scrooge was nominated for Four Academy Awards and won a Golden Globe. Quite an achievement in a time when movie musicals were fading in popularity. And it’s composer Leslie Bricusse (who also helped bring Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory to life) was an executive producer and helped write the screenplay for this new version. And since he passed away last year, the animated film is dedicated to him.

Of the original eleven songs, five were carried over to the new movie. Happiness. I Like Life (with updated lyrics). Beautiful Day, Thank you Very Much and I Will Begin Again. Yet while the original movie received generally positive reviews from critics, the new movie only holds a 40% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. What’s the difference? I mean the animation is very nice. Sometimes downright gorgeous. Obviously the music works. I’ve heard people praising both the new songs as well as the older ones. And they actually add depth to the original story.

Well if I had to guess, the new version is very much catering to kids versus families. The Ghost of Christmas Present has cute little Minion like critters. They cut the line of Scrooge saying, “If They (the poor) would rather die then they better do it. And decrease the surplus population!” I guess because it’s too mean? Speaking of, they give Scrooge a dog named Prudence. I guess to show the kids that he’s not all bad. He has a cute doggy! He’s kinda indifferent to the dog but hey! Don’t look at the scary imagery of Scrooge watching his own ghost rise from his grave! Look at the puppy! Look at the puppy! I mean Mr. Magoo kept the mean lines in as did the Muppet’s. Plus they trusted kids with the scary stuff.

Yeah as cute as those reindeer antlers on her looked at the end, Prudence was definitely a studio note and serves no purpose. She could be cut and you wouldn’t miss anything. Plus I’m not a fan of the opening number. Too peppy and modern. I wished they had done an update of the song that opens the 1970 movie, “A Christmas Carol “

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Plus I love this song from Cratchit. It’s so Christmas… I wish this one made the cut.

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But I do like the new version. Later Never Comes goes way harder than “You” and Luke Evans really balances out Scrooge being an old curmudgeon and a man who knows and regrets his choices. Plus the whole thing is animated like a dream. I love Luke Evans singing “I will Begin Again.” It’s a song of hope, passion and joy. And when Albert Finney’s Scrooge sings it …well… he tried…I can’t post it here but trust me. Luke Evans is a major upgrade. They make up for it with the finale in the 1970’s version where they almost reprise every song in the movie. Plus my parents always like how they made Albert Finney up to really look like a miser than doesn’t cut his hair or even clean his nails or his house. And technically Albert Finney was a sex symbol back in the day. Where he played both the old and young versions of Scrooge. So having a sexy Scrooge is technically precedent…

So give the original movie a watch if you like this one. It can be it’s own kind of goofy at times, but it’s definitely worth a yearly viewing. As is the new version on Netflix.

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#netflix #netflix scrooge #scrooge 2022 #movie thoughts #movie review #scrooge 1970 #Youtube

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stagefoureddiediaz · 3 years ago

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Hi friend!

Since I consider you the costume expert around here, I was wondering what you think about Buck’s immaculate white sneakers? Are shoe choices as important as the rest of the clothes when it comes to wardrobe? Do you think they have any particular meaning at all since he wears them almost constantly, or no?

Hey there back at you friend. Firstly I feel honoured that you consider me the 911 costume expert, it feels so good to have found a new use for the filing cabinet in my brain that has been storing all this knowledge for years without a place to share it and explore it, although now i’ve opened it, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to shut the drawers again! 😎🤓🥰

I’ve finally finished Bucks full costume plot, which was no small task, but will prove useful for some many things and it means I’m now I’m in a much better place to answer your question.

I’m going to apologise in advance for my screen shot skills (blurry is my default😱!!) but they do what I need them to, and for the fact that the answer is a long one - I tried the short version, but it felt unsatisfying to explain without more detail and going through each appearance, hopefully you’ll agree. On with the show!

His super clean white sneakers have been stomping their way through my brain for a fair while now and I couldn’t really decide what it is that the designers were trying to say with them, other than the fact that its currently a fashionable thing to have the whitest trainers possible and Buck is a fairly fashionable guy, especially within the context of the 118!) but things became so much clearer when I went through every single one of Bucks costumes episode by episode. I should say that doing this has made some interesting things come to light about Buck that I may expand upon in another post about him, it did however, reaffirm my previous posts on what he’s wearing (so yay for that 😂). I will say it became obvious that Buck is not really a wearer of jeans (the type of trousers most people would pair high top white sneakers with), he is very much a, more formal, slacks kinda guy and they’re almost exclusively black or navy blue, with only a few exceptions!

The first appearance of a pair of white trainers for Buck is a pair in his locker during a chat with Bobby about trauma. these are not the white sneakers we’ve all come to know and wonder about and he isn’t actually wearing them.

The actual high top white sneakers (which are like all white leather converse but not actually converse and I’m guessing as Oli is vegan, they’re not actually leather either!) make their first appearance in season 2 episode 8, Buck actually and the really interesting thing is they only appear after Buck has upgraded to version 2.0 - when he finds Tay Kay to apologise for ‘behaving like a pig’ (his words not mine). we see them again this episode when he meets up with Ali for their first date.

The next time we see them is in S2E10, merry ex-mas at the Christmas tree lot - when her is talking to Chim about Eddie ‘having an affair with his wife’ because ‘he’s sleeping with her but lying about it’.

S2E13 fight or flight - we see the trainers twice, although, Buck actually only changes the top half of his outfit, and that’s because his shirt has Chims blood on it. he’s returning home from a date with Ali (its implied but not actually confirmed) and then chasing after Doug to find Maddie. we don’t see them again in season 2!

in season 3 they appear in the first episode - kids today - Buck is wearing them at his surprise party, where he coughs up blood on ends up in hospital with blood clots and then again at the pier, which means they obviously mare there throughout all of Episode 2, Sink or Swim and Episode 3, the searchers (although for Tsunami reasons they’re not looking in there usual pristine condition and we barely see them!!)

S3E4, Triggers, we see them when he’s at the firehouse dropping off the paperwork from the fire drill

S3E5, Rage, we see them at the Lawyers office when Buck finds out about the settlement the city is offering and again at the rage room when Bobby lays out the terms of his return to the 118

S3E8, Malfunction, we see them when Eddie is explaining his impulse purchase of the new truck

S3E14, The taking of Dispatch (as an aside can I just say I love that Chim is a slipper wearer!) we see them while he’s on the phone to Chim talking about something being wrong because of her saying I love you.

S3E16, The one that got away, we see the trainers a couple of times - when Buck meets Red at the bar and then take him home, and again when they go over to see Cindy and that’s the last time we see them in season 3

in season 4 we don’t see them until episode 3, Future tense, when he is baby proofing the Madney apartment, and then at his conversation with Maddie back at his apartment about his therapy. we then see them very briefly at the Diaz house when Buck and Chris are playing video games

in S4E5 Buck Begins we see them towards the end of the Episode when he’s talking to Maddie about them having each other

S4E6 Jinx we catch a glimpse of them as the team (minus Eddie) are heading off for breakfast

S4E11 First responders he’s wearing them at the dispatch centre with Maddie and Josh and because he’s in the same shirt we know he must still be wearing them when he meets up with Tay Kay to trying get her to do a story on Sue’s hit and run

S4E12 Treasure Hunt he’s wearing them in his apartment with Tay Kay and Eddie when they team up to find the treasure

S4E13/14 Suspicion and Survivors we all know he’s wearing them during the shooting - all of those scenes are imprinted on our collective memories, but he is also wearing them in E14 when he’s (again) with Tay Kay packing to go back to the Diaz house

in Season 5 the trainers have already made a few appearances, the first being in episode 3 (not surprising as he spent all of E1&2 and most of 3 in uniform) when he’s flopping onto the bed (I will never be ok with him putting his shoes on the bed fyi!!) alone, but he must’ve also been wearing them when talking to Eddie in the locker room.

S5E4 we see them twice, once in the punch scene and then in the balcony scene - which is probably an extension of the punch scene as he’s also wearing the same slacks, so he’s probably only changed from the pink jumper into the blue/grey one (for comfort!)

The reason I’ve taken such a long winded way to get to the point is that all of these scenes have a complex commonality - they are all scenes about love, trauma and the trauma of love/ trying to find love - both romantic love and familial love (and the reason I mentioned that it was interesting they don’t appear until Buck becomes the 2.0 version of himself, is that that is when he really kicks his search for both into gear!). Even in scenes such as his trip to the lawyers office, he is trying to get back to his family.

With all this in mind, for me the pristine nature of his white trainers is a metaphor for his continuing search for both those things, the great romantic soulmate love he’s been searching for since we met him in season 1 and the love of a family, something he has never felt like he had. Of course he has always had Maddie, because she is his family, always will be and always has been, but what I mean here is the concept of a large extended family that accepts him and that he feels part of and cherished by and its hard to feel like a family if there is only two of you (the concept of family implies more than 2 people), and this is also something Maddie has been searching for as well. The Buckley search for family makes me both sad and joyful - sad because its depressing they never had it with their blood family, but joyful because they’ve found it with their found family of the 118. All of this cycles back around the whole purpose and heart of the show - Mitchell sums it up so well in Buck Actually - saying ‘you don’t find it, you make it’ to Buck. Buck has achieved familial love - in two places - the 118 and with the Diaz’s, even if both fractured at the moment and I’m not sure he realises he can trust that he’s found it in both places and I don’t think he will until he finds the second part he’s still searching for - the great romantic love of his life.

For me the fact that they’re white is all about purity - the purity of true love and isn’t that just the most beautiful thing! 🥰

If you’ve made it to the end of this I give you all the hugs and awards, because this ended up being an epically long answer to a simple question 🤣 and hopefully I’ve been successful in my endeavour to answer it!

#sorry this got so very long 😳😳#super long meta #costume meta #Kym answers her asks!#white trainers #Bucks white trainers #gold stars for anyone who made it all the way through #buck #evan buckley#evan buck buckley #the search for love #it’s what 911 is all about #911 #911 on fox #firefam #found family #911 fox

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airsignss · 2 years ago

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Hbo War Fluffy Holiday Prompts Day 4

Title: I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm

Prompt: Slow Dancing to Christmas Music

Pairing: Baberoe

Rating: T

Word count: 769

Author’s note: This one is on a technicality tbh. The songs referenced are ON a Christmas-type album. So,, it counts to ME. Lets see what else, its modern au (if you follow tumblr user @bitch-butter you will have seen a semi-recent prompt from the same universe) and its very near and dear to MY heart, so i hope you enjoy. Songs referenced are “I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm” and “June in January” both versions by Dean Martin. [prompt from @almost-a-class-act]

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Sundays are for slowness; on Sunday you’re supposed to roll out of bed slowly, watch the coffee drip at its own pace. Sunday is for “chores” that bring you comfort, changing sheets or making dinner for someone you love. Sunday was Gene’s favorite day.

The flurries outside the window made the apartment feel like the inside of a snowglobe, their darkening blue-gray sky in opposition to the warm golden glow of the living room. Babe hummed a few feet away, some song he heard on a commercial earlier in the week as he organized the boxes of holiday decorations to go back into storage until they were needed in January.

That Sunday had been spent in two distinct phases: frantic cleaning in the morning to ready the space, and peaceful post-shower (together) decorating. After a dinner of hearty chicken and dumplings, they worked in perfect sync; Babe on tree duty, and Gene on… Everything Else duty until Babe decided he didn’t like how Gene did it and would end up completely redoing it.

That was precisely the reason Gene was reorganizing his record shelves for the 900th time, after having been chased away from the mantle. Apparently, if two candles are even an inch too close it can ruin the entire display. So he decided that he would try arranging his music by decade, and if he could the exact year which was a categorization he hadn’t attempted before.

He ghosted his fingers over the 1950’s, perusing the titles he had before he stopped over a Dean Martin he wasn’t sure he had listened to yet. He didn’t remember when he got it exactly, it wasn’t his usual find when he visited music stores. Reading the tracklist on the sleeve, he got an idea.

Babe reentered the living room and flopped onto the sofa, letting out a huff. Gene smirked to himself, carefully removing the protective cover and gently laying the disc on the turntable. Babe had gotten him a whole setup complete with new speakers and everything the year before, upgrading him from the little Victrola he had. He flicked on the system, and Babes head popped up when he heard the tiny scratch noise. Gene found the spot on the record he wanted to begin at and turned to Babe who gave him a puzzled yet intrigued look.

The song began, the light jazz tune filling the space, Gene stood in front of Babe and offered his hand.

“Dance with me?” He asked softly, his voice hopeful. Babe let out a small laugh, but did not hesitate to take the hand offered to him. Gene helped him stand and just as soon wrapped Babe in his embrace.

Soon the lyrics began to swirl in the air and Dean Martin’s voice came from the speakers, but Gene sang them to Babe, his lips close to the shell of the redhead's ear. The pair swayed in the room, their interwoven fingers resting on Babe’s chest.

“But what do I care how much it may storm? I’ve got my love to keep me warm.” His voice was like warm honey in Babe’s ear. Gene never thought he was much of a singer, but he would record a whole album for Babe if that was what he wanted.

“I never took you for a Dean Martin guy.” Babe said, his voice teasing. Gene chuckled quietly, and Babe felt the vibration of his body against his own which made him press tighter to Gene.

“Well we have to keep it interesting somehow, don’t we?” He retorted with a wink. Babe rolled his eyes dramatically, but his smile widened. “No honestly I don’t know when I got this, but I’m glad it came in handy.” He told Babe who nodded before nuzzling his face into Gene’s neck as the song began to wind down.

They continued to sway as the song changed, June in January floating through the speakers. Neither were very familiar with the song, but danced anyway; gazing into each other's eyes silently telling each other everything the lyrics meant.

They swayed together until the motion of their bodies completely stopped, and they stood still in the living room simply holding one another. When the next song began with a much more upbeat tempo, they finally separated looking at each other with dopey grins, their eyes swimming in the depth of their feelings,

The sky outside was inky black, lights from the city illuminated the falling snowflakes for brief moments as they flitted through. It was Sunday, and Sunday was for all the things you loved; Sunday was Gene’s favorite Day.

#HBO War Barely Coherant Christmas Chaos #baberoe #pardon if im a bit rusty BUT #this was a fun one it came super quick too #babe heffron #eugene roe #my wrtitng

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puppypeter · 4 years ago

Text

✨ All fics are complete! ✨

He Loves Me Cause I’m Cute, He Thinks I’m Pretty Funny | 2588 words 📱

He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.

Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart?

“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”

the one where bucky posts a tiktok and steve is utterly smitten.

Summer Slipped Us Underneath Her Tongue | 10712 words 🧳

Bucky is a tour guide who enjoys sharing the rich history and culture of each city they pass through with a bunch of early-20's college students who just want to know the cheapest place to get drunk.

Except for Steve, who asks Bucky for a personal tour around his hometown.

The rest is, as they say, history.

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet | 3853 words 🧑🏼‍🍳

“I made soda bread.” Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.” The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

Ollie Meets Bagel | 5517 words 🥯

He was a skater boy, Steve said let's get bagels, boy.

Steve wants to start doing this twenty-first century thing properly. He gets help in the form of skateboarding, skateboarders, bagels, and Sam Wilson.

Taxi | 5113 words 🚕

Bucky Barnes was, he hoped, a good taxi driver.

He's so good, he actually tries to return lost property that ends up left in his car and... well. It has some unexpected consequences involving a National Icon.

Enough said.

Leg Day | 12157 words 🏋️‍♂️

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Love In Aisle Four | 2127 words 🛍️

When Bucky needs to swing by the supermarket after a long, hard day of work, the last thing he expects is to meet a cute grocery clerk named Steve…

Coming Up Easy | 45515 words ✍🏻

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

Anywhere The Wind Blows | 8845 words 👨‍🚒🎖️

After a catastrophic fire that shakes him to his core, Steve Rogers quits his job as a Brooklyn firefighter and relocates to a cabin in the remote Canadian wilderness, wanting quiet and solitude and to maybe never have to speak to another human being ever again. He gets his wish, more or less, until a recently injured Bucky Barnes is discharged from the Army and rents the cabin next door.

The Safer Course | 7918 words | Part 1 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

When Steve moves to the suburbs in 2033, he intends to retire from superhero life.

He does not intend to fall in love with his pain-in-the-ass neighbor.

Every Year I Have You | 7064 words | Part 2 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

Steve set the bar pretty high, as birthday presents go.

Bucky is determined to outdo him when July 4th comes around.

Beneath The Mistletoe | 21203 words 🎄

Bucky had a bet with his sister that if he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas by the time he was 25, he had to give her $200 and go blonde for a year. But now he's 25, it’s nearing December, and not only is Bucky as single as ever, but he’s also running low on cash. He doesn’t exactly want to bleach his hair, either.

At least Steve is willing to upgrade their relationship from best friends to fake boyfriends.

The Settler | 52203 words 🍞

“What do you want to do?”

Steve pauses and looks at them.

What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.

He doesn't want to leave that.

But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.

So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”

OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.

You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory | 1148 words 🐈

"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."

He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.

To Believe In Tomorrow | 3959 words 👨🏻‍🌾

Bucky's mornings at the community garden get a little more interesting when the new guy shows up.

Maybe This Christmas | 24873 words | Part 1 of Maybe ❄️

Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

-----

Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.

Maybe This Year (Will Be Better Than Last) | 133868 words | Part 2 of Maybe ❄️

Last year, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. Well actually, he slipped and fell on him. What followed was the best Christmas either of them had ever had. But what happens when Christmas is over and life returns to normal? What happens after the Christmas miracle?

-----

Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.

Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️

Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.

-----

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.

“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.

Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.

Sadly, they’re closer than they think.

The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Steve Rogers is fine.

After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.

From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.

The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕

"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."

After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.

One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒

You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Obvious | 917 words ☕

"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."

#stucky #steve rogers/bucky barnes #bucky barnes/steve rogers #stucky fics #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #stucky fic recs #stucky fics rec #stucky fics recs #stucky fan fiction #stucky fiction #stucky ao3 #stucky complete #stucky au #adorable stucky fics

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imaginyimagines · 3 years ago

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Unexpected Reunion - Ch. 3

A/N: I was inspired by @let-me-love-you-loki and her amazing fics and I decided to write out the fictions I wanted to, for me. This is an AU pairing of my main OC Sabrina ‘Rina’ McMahon and Nick Jackson of the Young Bucks! I also tried going back and forth between perspectives for the first time!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Rina Sadly our time in Japan went much faster than I would have liked. We were back in Los Angeles, about to go our separate ways. I'd made some plans with an old friend before I knew I would become so close with AJ's new group of buds. I'd made a reservation at the Waldorf Astoria in Beverly Hills, and seeing as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I'd upgraded to their suite to have room for everyone. As we pulled up to the property, all of their eyes glazed over. I giggled as the driver opened the door and stepped out first. "Thanks again for agreeing to let me cover this. I'd made this reservation before I knew I was making new friends. I got the suite, though!" The guys piled out, still in awe. "Hello? Guys?" I snapped my fingers a few times, and Nick finally made eye contact with me.

"Wow," He said with a very grateful smile.

"I hope you enjoy some much-needed R and R with the amenities here; you guys deserve it after this tour. I've been tired for you!" Everyone laughed as they followed me into the hotel and across the hyper-polished marble floors. I checked in, and a bellhop appeared with a cart for our bags. The guys seemed reluctant, but I insisted they enjoy every part of the experience. With my open Louis Vuitton wallet still in hand, I handed the man a folded-up bill with a smile.

"Thank you, Ms. McMahon. I'll have these up to the suite shortly. Enjoy your stay with us," I gave him a nod and smile and herded the boys off towards the gleaming elevators. Once inside, I zipped up my wallet and shoved it back into my purse.

"Louis Vuitton? Fancy now, Rina," AJ teased.

"Nattie loves all things LV. These were Christmas gifts. She also got all my animals LV collars." I shook my head but smiled at the memory.

"Animals?" Matt looked up from his phone.

"I have a dog and two cats. Oh, and a tarantula." I suddenly felt five pairs of eyes on me. "What?"

"A spider? As a pet, really?" Matt seemed incredulous.

"Tempestia is a doll, I promise. She has this cute little castle that she lives in. But I keep her in my office because not everyone is fond of the eight-legged friends." The guys nodded, seemingly mollified by this. Once we reached the top, we exited the elevator, and finding the large door; I opened it with a flourish. "Welcome home for the next few days, gentlemen," They walked inside in awe; the room was large and airy. Two large sectional couches spread across the living room in front of a large flat-screen television. A daybed stood behind it and off to the side, just beside the door that led to the balcony. Two more beds had been set up near the on-suite bathroom in the other half of the room. There was also a separate bedroom that was, of course, the star of the suite. The walls were cream-colored, as was all of the bedding. Gold accent pillows dotted everywhere with brushed stainless steel hardware on the tables. The guys also didn't know what to do with themselves, so I busied myself with a routine.

I slid behind Nick and Matt, entered the suite bedroom, and put my bag down. Letting my hair down with a shake, I kicked off my shoes and stripped out of my socks. I hummed to myself as I went back into the main living area and threw open the doors to the balcony. The California light breeze hit me, and I stood there admiring the view.

Nick My brother and I had never stayed anywhere so fancy in our entire lives. She seemed at home, though, knowing how to speak to the staff and slipped cash to the man who took our bags. Of course, her wallet was designer brand, but she explained it was another wrestler who gave it to her. The look on her face when she talked about her pets, even a tarantula, was soft. She breezed us down the hallway and into a giant room. Holy crap. I stood frozen, along with Matt and AJ. Again she seemed at home, claiming a bed and getting comfortable. I looked over as she stood in front of the now open doors to the balcony, and my heart stopped before stuttering back to life. She looked over her shoulder, and our eyes met. The smile that touched her lips just about knocked me sideways, and all I could do was grin like an idiot. When her phone broke the silence, I was about to ask her a question. I soon recognized the lyrics as Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne.

"Hang on," She fished the phone out of her pocket, looking at the phone with a smile. "Hello, hello, Tommy!" She answered in a sing-song manner before wandering out onto the balcony. Whoever this Tommy was made her very happy. I pursed my lips as I was unsure what to make of this. The jealousy immediately bubbled up in my stomach, even though I had no right to be. My brother, ever the annoyingly observant older brother, smacked me in the chest. I shook my head to clear it unsuccessfully, and we both went about settling down and getting comfortable.

Rina The phone rang through the picturesque silence; of course, he was calling already. "Hello, hello, Tommy!" I greeted.

"Hello, yourself. Did you get here yet?"

"Of course I did, or my phone wouldn't be on. Staying in Beverly Hills."

"There's this amazing new Italian restaurant I know you would love. We should go; I'd love to take you,"

"Is it fancy?"

"The fanciest, just up your alley."

"The only kind of restaurant I didn't bring clothes for!"

"What do you mean?"

"I just got back from a wrestling trip, Tom. I don't have anything nice with me."

"Well, that sounds like a simple problem, Rina."

"I'd need your wife! She's my fashion consultant."

"What do you mean?" He asked with a laugh.

"I'd need her to go shopping with me; I don't know what looks good on me. I don't think anything looks good on me."

"Well, I think I can serve that role; I know what looks good on you. Think of it as a new bonding experience, I insist."

"Only if you pay for the shoes," I grinned wickedly.

"Christian Louboutin, it is; get ready; I'll pick you up in a couple of hours."

After exchanging I love yous, I hung up and went back into the suite.

"Hey, guys?" They were sprawled out, two on beds and three on the couch. "Would you be okay without me if my friend Tom stole me for a couple of hours?"

"Ooh, the infamous Tom. What's he want?" AJ asked as he walked over to me.

"He wants to take me to this Italian place, but I don't meet the dress code. Chi-chi. So he's gotta take me shopping," I brushed AJ's growing hair from his eyes.

"Hmm, I suppose we can spare you," He drawled out dramatically.

"Good because he's on his way! And I'm getting new shoes. He's paying too."

"Ouch. Tom is not even your husband, and you have him whipped," I giggled at that remark.

"Being the ex-turned-best-friend has its perks," I settled on the couch between Kenny and Nick.

Nick As she explained who this mystery Tom was, my stomach unclenched. She sat beside me, folding her legs up neatly.

"Any uh, special perks?" Kenny asked her, to which she cackled.

"Never. That ship sailed fifteen-plus years ago. Besides, Tom is married to a literal supermodel. You don't trade in a Lamborghini for a Ford," That comparison made my face wrinkle. Did she really somehow think of herself as anything less than a goddess? Did she not see what she could do to people? I reached out and brushed her arm.

"So you're saying you're built Ford Tough?" I tried to make her at least crack a smile at the bad joke.

"Something like that," She mused, half her lips cracking upward. "Why don't we hit the beach before I have to spend all of Thomas' money?" She changed the subject smoothly, resting a hand on her neck. Everyone cheered before splitting off to get ready. I put my hand on her knee and rubbed it gently.

"I think you're beautiful," I said softly. The rush of red to her cheeks was delightful to watch, and then she put her hand on mine.

"Thank you. You're pretty handsome yourself, Nick." She squeezed my hand before getting up and disappearing into her room. The boys stripped down and got into shorts, whereas she emerged later in a one-piece swimsuit and tied a cover-up around her hips.

Rina

The gang hung out enjoying some complimentary snacks while I waited for Tom to arrive to pick me up in the lobby. Once we'd finished at the beach, I changed into some comfortable jeans and a Property of New England cropped t-shirt. I was tucked up in a corner, Nick at my side along with his brother Matt. My phone pinged from its spot on the table. I was only expecting one person to message me since all my other friends were scattered around me at the moment. I pushed up on my legs and saw a simple 'Pulling up now' before hopping to my feet. I looked up at the doors and saw all six feet four inches of the California dream boy that was my best friend breeze into the hotel lobby. Before I knew it, I was taking off across the marbled floors and ran into him at full speed.

He caught me with a laugh and twirled me around. "It's been far too long, Rin."

"I'm glad we agree, Thomas. Now put me down!" I giggled, not caring how loud.

"Shall we?"

"Meet my friends first?" I took his hand and pulled him back towards the guys, frozen in the lounge area.

"Sure," I towed him along back over to the gang.

"Guys, this is Tom. Tom, this is AJ, Kenny, Adam, Matt, and Nick. Guys, this is Tom, one of my very best friends." I pointed each man out, and I couldn't help that my smile got bigger once I got to Nick's name.

"Hey, a pleasure to meet ya," Tom waved with his trademark winning smile. Everyone stared for a good thirty seconds.

"Guys? Are we alive?"

"You're Tom Brady!" Matt exclaimed, to which Tom and I both laughed.

"Excellent observation, Matt. Yes, Mr. Brady is a friend. And soon to be much poorer," I reminded him gleefully. Tom shook his head with a smile as I handed out hugs. "See you guys later, don't have too much fun without me." I saved Nick for last and didn't quite want to let go. Tom cleared his throat. I let go sheepishly, avoiding the eyes of everyone before looping my arm through Tom's and following him out of the lobby. We climbed into the waiting SUV and settled into the backseat.

"So, how long have you liked him?" Tom asked me point-blank.

#nick jackson #nick jackson imagine #nick jackson fanfiction #au #au fanfiction #wrestling x nfl #rina #oc #oc fiction #oc fanfiction

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

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Inked Up - Fred Weasley

Title: Inked up Pairing: Fred x Fem!Muggle!TattooArtist!Reader Warnings: NSFW!! Dirty talk, fingering, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, choking. There is also mention of needles!! Summary: Fred never thought he’d get a tattoo. But of course when a pretty girl offers he can’t say no. A/N: Summary is shit but again, what else is new. I had a dream about Fred getting a tattoo and couldn’t stop thinking about it so here you guys go lol. Thank you to everyone who suggested tattoo ideas!! Feedback is always welcome!! Tags: not tagging anyone as I am unsure who is 18+!

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Charlie watches Molly disappear back into the kitchen after dropping off some hot chocolate to everyone in the living room, muttering something about starting to prep the food for tomorrow’s feast. After the war he’s made an effort to come home more often, but it’s been a few months since he’s seen all of his siblings, and he’s made a major upgrade to his body that he’s been dying to show off.

“Finally thought she’d never leave.” Everyone turns to look at Charlie and he gives them a smile. “I wanna show you guys something.”

When Charlie starts to take off his shirt Fred puts his hands up. “Woah there, Char. Do I have to remind you that we’re all related to you?” he jokes. “Although some of us not yet,” he teases, nudging Harry with his foot. He and Ginny got engaged a few months ago and as her older brother Fred has taken it upon himself to tease them both about it every chance he gets.

“Oh, screw off, Fred. I got a tattoo you prat,” Charlie explains as he pulls his shirt off over his head. He turns around so everyone can see the ink on his shoulder blade. It’s a rather amazing portrait of a Hungarian horntail, and they all gasp as its wings start to flap and fire shoots out of its nose. “Sick, right?”

Fred stares at it in awe, watching it move over and over again. He’s never really thought about getting a tattoo or any real body modifications. He watched Katie Bell pierce Alicia Spinnet’s ears with a needle and an ice cube in the common room second year, and that was enough for him to decide that he never wanted to do anything like that to his own body. But now, watching the tattoo on his brother’s back move he can’t help but wonder what a tattoo would look like on his own body.

“Looks wicked, Charlie,” Ginny comments. “Does mum know?”

Charlie shakes his head with a laugh and pulls his shirt back on before turning back to face his siblings. “No, and no one in this room is gonna tell her.”

“I dunno, Charlie. Mum’s been giving me crap about my earring for years, might be nice to not hear about it for a while,” Bill teases.

Charlie throws a pillow at Bill, and everyone gets back to what they were doing before Charlie’s announcement, except for Fred, who’s still thinking about the tattoo on his brother’s back.

Like most decisions in Fred’s life, his decision to get a tattoo is impulsive. He’s been thinking about getting a tattoo since Charlie showed his off on Christmas Eve, so when he’s heading back towards Diagon Alley with coffee for him and George it seems natural for him to take a detour into a tattoo shop. Six months is a fairly long time to think about something and he doesn’t seem the harm in just merely looking around.

“Hi, can I help you with something?”

Fred pulls his attention away from the art that litters the walls of the small space towards the counter in front of him. He’d been so mesmerized by the atmosphere that he didn’t even notice the young woman standing just a few feet away. But now that he has, he can’t seem to look away.

She is by far the most beautiful woman Fred has ever seen. Her long hair cascades down her back and there’s light reflecting off of the small diamond of her nose piercing. The variety of simple, black line art tattoos that crawl up her left arm stand out on her skin, and Fred let’s his eyes trace over them for a moment. He lets his eyes trail back up to hers and he gives her his signature smirk.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo, actually,” Fred explains, stepping up to the counter. He rests his hands on the counter and leans on them, and Fred watches as the young women’s eyes trace the muscles and veins of his forearms.

“Well you’ve come to the right place,” the young woman responds as her eyes meet Fred’s once again. There’s a fresh pink tint to her cheeks and it makes Fred’s heart beat faster in his chest. “Do you have any idea of what you’d want to get?”

“I’ve got a few, I think. I dunno, I don’t want to pick the wrong thing and end up with something I hate on my body for the rest of my life, ya know?” he chuckles.

“That’s part of the thrill isn’t it?” she asks. Her eyes are bright with mischief, and Fred can feel himself swooning. “I’ve got a fair few tattoos that I picked out just a few minutes before my appointment. Sometimes life shouldn’t be taken so seriously. And if you really hate something you can always get it covered up later.”

Fred lets his eyes trace some of her tattoos again while he waits for his heart rate to calm down. He’s already become enamored by this woman and he doesn’t even know her name. “Well you’ve convinced me then. D’you have any suggestions? Being an expert and all,” he flirts.

The flush on the woman’s cheeks deepens and Fred practically drools when she pulls her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she thinks. “Well since you’re a virgin, a tattoo virgin,” she clarifies when Fred snickers. “I’d recommend something simple and meaningful. That way if you realize tattoos aren’t for you at least the one you have means something. And if tattoos are for you, the boring one is already out of the way and your next one can be something fun.”

“Like a meaningful date, something like that?” Fred asks, a few different ideas swimming around in his mind.

“As long as it’s not an anniversary with a girlfriend. I can’t tell you how many of those I’ve had to cover up,” the young woman laughs.

“No girlfriend, so no worries there,” Fred responds, unable to miss the excited look that crosses the woman’s face. “I’m Fred, by the way.”

The woman holds out her hand, a shiver running down her spine when Fred grabs it. “I’m Y/N.” After their handshake the linger with their hands clasped together, both a little reluctant to let go.

Fred makes an appointment for a tattoo that evening, and by the time he stops at Gringotts to grab some muggle money and heads into the joke shop both the coffees in his hand have gone cold.

“Took you long enough, git. Did you get lost?” George teases, using his wand to rewarm both of their drinks. One Saturday a month they keep the shop closed and use the opportunity to rearrange the shelves, inventory the products so they can put orders into their suppliers and make up new displays. They never want the store to seem boring or stagnant, and this one day a month allows them to keep things interesting.

“I had to make a few stops on the way,” Fred explains, starting to dig through a box of whizbangs.

“Okay mister secretive,” George huffs. “You finally get a girlfriend you haven’t told me about?”

Fred doesn’t look up from what he’s doing, knowing the flush on his cheeks will only cause George to tease him further. “You’re an idiot.” He had planned on keeping his tattoo a secret for a bit, something just for him. But there are few things in the world Fred keeps from George. “I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

“Oh?” George asks in surprise. “You’ve never talked about it before.”

Fred shrugs. “Just been thinking about it, for a bit. Since Charlie showed us his at Christmas. I never thought it’d be something for me but, it seemed cool. I noticed a shop on my way back and popped in. Just to see what it was about. But I started talking to the girl in there-“

“Ah,” George says in realization, cutting Fred off. “A pretty girl convinced you to get one. I see, I see,” he teases.

Fred looks up at George this time and whips a whizbang box at his head. “I didn’t say she was pretty.”

“That blush on your cheeks does though,” George responds with a chuckle.

“You’re an asshat.”

George rolls his eyes. “So, what did the pretty girl say that made you get a tattoo?”

George seems genuinely interested, so Fred chooses to ignore the teasing tone he has. “That life isn’t so serious.”

“That’s it? This woman must be drop dead gorgeous if that’s all it took for you to decide to put something on your body forever.”

“I mean that wasn’t what she said verbatim. And it sounded better when she said it,” Fred insists, throwing another whizbang box at George. He cheers when it hits his brother in the chest and he ducks his head when George whips it right back at him. “And even though it’s none of your business and it had no bearing on my decision, she was hot as hell.”

When Fred returns to the shop that night his knees are shaking slightly, and he has butterflies in his stomach. He’s excited and scared at the same time, but all around ready for this new experience. Y/N is already waiting for him at the counter when he steps in the shop, and the warm smile she shoots him does wonders to calm his nerves.

“Long time no see,” he greets smoothly, coming up to stand in front of the counter again.

“Sorry who are you again?” she teases with a wink. Y/N has been looking forward to Fred’s return since the moment the shop door shut behind him. It’s rare someone as handsome and charming as Fred walks into the shop, and the chemistry between them had been too heavy to deny. Y/N’s one major rule is to refrain from sleeping with her clients, but one look at Fred’s muscles bulging in his thin t-shirt had her ready to jump over the counter and into his strong arms.

Fred gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Am I really that unforgettable?”

“There are many words I would use to describe you, Fred. And unforgettable is not one of them,” she responds, making her voice as sultry as possible.

Fred had a feeling Y/N had been attracted to him when he came into the shop earlier, but her confirmation leaves a warm feeling in his chest. He hasn’t stopped thinking about her since this morning and he hopes he leaves this appointment with more than just a tattoo. “Really? Care to share a few?”

“I care to share more than a few things with you, Fred. But we’ve got other things to attend to first.” Y/N bites her lip, letting her eyes rake up and down Fred’s body for a moment, before motioning for him to follow her. She leads Fred over to her station where she’d already started to get things set up. “Here’s the stencil I drew up, it’s pretty simple so I can always add more if you want.”

Fred takes the piece of paper from Y/N, letting his finger graze the back of her hand for a moment. “It’s perfect, Y/N.”

Y/N smiles at Fred taking the stencil back from him. “Great. Where do you want it to go?”

Fred bites his lip and he makes direct eye contact with Y/N as he pulls his shirt off over his head. He watches her eyes drop down to his torso for a moment and he tenses his ab muscles for a moment. “I was thinking right here,” he starts, grabbing Y/N’s attention again. He gestures to the area under his right pec. “The uh, what’s this called? Under boob area?” he chuckles.

“The pec?” she asks with a laugh, unable to keep her eyes from wandering down to Fred’s bare torso. Apart from a few random scars his skin is milky white and perfect. Obviously he takes care of his body, and Y/N can tell his muscles are hard and toned. She wants to dig her nails into his flesh, but she’ll settle with digging her tattoo needle into it first.

“The pec, right. That’s what it’s called.” As Y/N prepares to put the stencil on his skin Fred lets himself admire her. The skirt she’s wearing is short, and it exposes half of a large tattoo on her right thigh. Fred is imagining what it would feel like to sink his teeth into it, when Y/N is touching his chest lightly.

“There,” she says as she finishes putting the stencil on. “Go check it out in the mirror and see what you think. I can make it bigger or smaller if you want and we can change the placement up too.”

Fred watches as Y/N turns around to do something at her station, his eyes focused on the way the fabric of her skirt clings to her ass. When Y/N turns around and catches him looking he smirks. “Oh, was I supposed to be checking out the tattoo? My mistake.” Fred winks at her before turning towards the mirror and examining how the stencil looks on his skin.

“Look good?” Y/N asks when Fred turns back around. She sits down in her chair and motions for Fred to lay back on the table.

“Looks perfect,” Fred confirms. He feels his nerves start to return ss he climbs up on the table and lays back. He watches as Y/N pulls on a pair of gloves and smiles at her when she looks down at him. “You do have your license to do this, right? Probably should have asked that before we got this far.”

Y/N laughs. “You’re in safe hands, Fred. I promise.” She grabs her gun and turns it on before gently dips the needle into the maroon ink Fred had picked out earlier. “Let me know if you need a break or the pain is too intense, okay?”

“Roger that.” The hum of the gun is somewhat soothing to Fred and he takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it as Y/N presses the gun to the first line. “Oh,” he breathes, eyes wide. “Not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Y/N chuckles as she starts to trace the stencil, pausing for a moment to collect some more ink. “Told ya you were in safe hands.” She continues to ink Fred’s skin for a moment, trying not to pay attention to how close they are. “So why this date? You said you don’t have a girlfriend but it’s far too recent to be your birthday, unless you’re a very mature three-year-old.” she asks, trying to distract herself from how bad she wants to climb on top of him.

Fred holds in his laugh until Y/N has pulled the gun away from his skin. “It’s uh, the day that I almost died, actually,” he mumbles, wiping his sweaty palms off on his jeans. It’s been just over three years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and even though Fred’s nightmares about that night have long since stopped talking about it never fails to make him emotional.

“Oh,” Y/N says softly, starting to trace the numbers once again. “That’s um. Sorry, I’m not sure what to say. I really wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“It’s okay. That’s what all the scars are from, actually. Freak accident, a stone wall collapsed on top of me.” For a moment Fred is actually glad that he can lie to Y/N about his brush with death. Hearing that he was nearly murdered during the final battle of a war against a dark wizard is far more terrifying. “I felt powerless for a long time after it happened, which is why I wanted to get this tattoo. Take back some of the power I lost.”

“Wow, Fred. That’s really beautiful.” Y/N undeniably feels attracted to Fred, and she’s starting to realize it goes far deeper than just wanting him in her bed. He’s charismatic and charming, but there’s sincerity and softness in there too. “I got a rose for my first tattoo because it’s my Mum’s name and I figured it would make her less angry.”

Fred chuckles, thankful for Y/N’s distraction. “Did it work?”

“Not at all,” Y/N reveals. “She didn’t talk to me, for weeks. She’s okay with it now, especially since it’s my career. But yeah she was pretty pissed for a long time.”

“And that’s exactly why I don’t plan on ever telling my Mum. My older brother pierced his ear years ago and she still gives him crap about it even though he’s married with a kid now. I will never hear the end of it if she finds out about this.”

“Guess this will have to be our dirty little secret,” Y/N teases with a wink.

“As long as it’s not the only dirty think between us,” Fred fires back, smirking when her cheeks flush pink.

Y/N rolls her eyes to try and downplay how turned on she is. “Keep it in your pants a little bit longer, Fred. We’re almost done here.”

“As long as you promise to help me take it out of my pants later on,” Fred suggests with a wink.

“You’re one cheeky bastard. Has anyone ever told you that?” Y/N asks as she finishes up the tattoo. She turns her gun off and puts it down, before grabbing a paper towel to wipe off the access ink.

“Many times, though it sounds much better coming from your mouth.” Fred sits up slowly, and heads over to the mirror to examine the tattoo. The ink is the same color as his old Gryffindor Quidditch Robes and the font is simple, but Fred is completely enamored by it. His eyes trace over the numbers over and over again, like they might disappear if he looks away.

“You like it?” Y/N asks, watching Fred as she cleans her station up.

Fred turns to look at Y/N, a huge smile on his face. “It’s absolutely perfect. You did an amazing job.”

“Thank you, Fred.” Y/N feels like she’s on cloud 9, and she slowly approaches Fred so she can finish up the appointment. “Now you’ll need to wash it a few times a day with unscented soap and pat it dry with a paper towel and apply some ointment to it as well. As it heals it’ll itch like crazy but try your hardest not to scratch it. You should wear a loose shirt for the first few days, so the tattoo doesn’t stick to it.” Y/N places a piece of clingfilm on Fred’s chest, subtly feeling his hard muscles as she smoothes it out. “You have to leave this on for a few hours. Sound good?” Y/N looks up at Fred then, letting out a small gasp at how intense his gaze is.

“Sounds perfect.” As Y/N starts to pull her hands away Fred grabs them in his and brings her into his chest. He intertwines their fingers with one hand, while the other comes up to cup her cheek. “Can I kiss you?” When Y/N nods weakly Fred leans down and presses their lips together in a slow kiss.

As they kiss it starts to turn desperate and Y/N whines as Fred’s hands start to shove up the back of her shirt. “As much as I would love to fuck you right here we’d be breaking about 20 different health code violations,” Y/N pants as Fred starts to trail kisses down her neck. “There’s a staircase, in the back. It leads up to my flat. I need to fuck,” her sentence cuts off with a moan as Fred starts to suck a mark into her skin.

“I need to fuck too,” Fred jokes, pulling away from her slightly. “I’ll wait for you upstairs while you do whatever you need to down here, yeah?” Fred kisses Y/N again briefly before forcing himself away. He grabs his t-shirt and looks over his shoulder at Y/N one last time before he heads off towards her flat.

“Fucking finally,” Y/N groans a few minutes later when she’s joining Fred. She pushes him up against her front door, one of her hands grabbing his neck to pull him into a kiss, while the other goes to his crotch and palms his hardening erection through his trousers. “You have no idea how hard it was for me to not jump on you the second you laid back on that table.”

Fred moans as Y/N grips him through his trousers, her lips biting at the sensitive skin on his neck. “Do you have any idea how unbelievably sexy I find you? The second I saw you I wanted to bend you over that fucking counter and ruin you.” Fred brings their lips together again in a hot kiss as Y/N opens the door and shoves Fred into her flat.

Y/N lives in a small studio, so it’s easy for her to guide Fred over to her bed while they kiss. She pushes him back onto her bed and kicks off her shoes before climbing back over him. “Fuck I so wish you had, Fred. I spent all day thinking about your hands and your stupid arm muscles.”

“Let me show you what I can do with these hands then, princess.” Fred kicks off his shoes before flipping them over. He starts to press open mouthed kisses to the column of Y/N’s throat as his hands move under her shirt and up her torso. His hands cup her breasts, and when his thumbs rub over Y/N’s nipples he lets out a surprised gasp. “Holy fucking shit that’s hot. Take your shirt off.”

Y/N laughs as she sits up enough to pull her shirt off over her head. She tosses it away and as soon as her back is against the bed again, Fred’s hands are cupping and massaging her breasts. He’s watching her intensely and it sends a shiver down her spine. Y/N lets out a low moan as Fred’s thumbs start to toy with the silver barbells in her nipples.

Fred leans down and takes one of her nipples into his mouth, moaning when the cool metal touches his warm tongue. The tip of the tongue joys with the jewelry for a few moments before Fred’s teeth nibble at the sensitive bud. Y/N’s moans spur him on, and he starts to grind his erection against her thigh. “You are so fucking sexy, Y/N.”

“More, Fred, please,” Y/N pants. Fred’s every manipulation on her breasts is sending shocks of pleasure right to her aching core, and Y/N is desperate for more. “Show me what else your hands can do.”

Fred reluctantly gets off of the bed to rid himself of the rest of his clothes, motioning for Y/N to do the same. “Can’t wait to bury my fingers in you,” Fred growls as he settles back in between Y/N’s legs. He bends Y/N’s knees and pushes her thighs back as far as they’ll go so she’s completely spread open for him. He starts to slowly trail his fingers up her thigh watching as goosebumps erupt in their wake. “Such a pretty pussy you have, princess. And so wet too.” Fred’s thumb starts to slowly rub through Y/N’s folds, his eyes watching Y/N’s face. “This all for me, princess?”

Y/N moans as Fred’s thumb starts to slowly rub circles on her clit. “All for you Fred, fuck. Need more, please.”

“Need what?” he teases, his index finger slowly starting to trace her dripping entrance. “Need my fingers to fuck your desperate cunt?”

“Fred,” Y/N moans as he finally sinks his index finger into her. She starts to toy with her nipples as he adds another finger, slowly curling them as he pumps them in and out of her.

“Such a tight cunt, princess,” Fred coos. He watches as Y/N writhes underneath him, mesmerized by the way her teeth tug at her bottom lip. “My cock might split you in two if I try and fuck you.” Y/N lets out a low moan at that and Fred smirks. “You like that, princess? You want my cock to split you open?”

Y/N nods, too busy panting and moaning to actually answer Fred. His fingers are hitting her g-spot with every thrust and his thumb is rubbing hard circles on her clit. Arousal is building in her stomach at a rapid pace, and just the thought of Fred splitting her open on his cock nearly pushes her over the edge.

“Come on my fingers first, princess. Then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your name.” Fred focuses on bringing Y/N to her climax then, quickening the speed at which his fingers are fucking into her. He replaces the thumb that’s rubbing at her clit with his mouth, immediately sucking the sensitive bud between his lips and nibbling on it gently.

“Oh fuck, Freddie,” Y/N moans as she hits her climax, her legs shutting from the pleasure, trapping Fred’s head between her thighs. He starts to moan around her clit, sending extra shockwaves of pleasure through Y/N’s body. Her back arches as another mini orgasm rips through her body, her hips grinding down onto Fred’s face. “Oh my god,” Y/N gasps as she starts to come down, her legs relaxing so Fred can sit up.

“Such a good girl princess,” he praises, bringing the fingers that had been in Y/N up to her mouth. She immediately brings them between her lips and sucks, letting her tongue wrap around them as she tastes herself on the digits. Fred’s cock twitches as he imagines her mouth wrapped around something else, and he has to pull his fingers away to keep from coming at the sight. “You taste so good, don’t you princess?”

Y/N hums in confirmation, and she reaches up to grab Fred, pulling him down into a kiss. She lets her tongue roam around his mouth, moaning into it. “Fuck me Fred, please. Need you now.”

Fred grabs one of Y/N’s legs and hitches it over his shoulder, gripping the base of his cock to line up with her entrance. Her folds are glistening, and he can’t resist letting the tip of his cock run through them. “Such a warm cunt, princess. Gonna make my cock feel so good.” Fred starts to slowly push his hips forward not stopping until his hips are pushed flush to Y/N’s. “Oh my fuck, princess. Such a tight little pussy you have. Gripping my cock so well.”

“Move Fred, please,” Y/N begs, her own hips starting to buck up in search of friction. “Fuck me hard, please. Want you to ruin me.”

Fred leans over Y/N and braces himself on one of his hands, starting to pound into her relentlessly. “Not gonna touch your clit, princess,” Fred grunts as he lands a hard thrust. “Wanna see if I can get you to come from just my cock.”

Y/N moans and grips Fred’s shoulders with her hands to avoid touching herself. Fred is fucking into her deeply, and the head of his cock is rubbing her g-spot with every movement. “Stretching me out so good, Freddie,” Y/N groans. “Feel so full. Love being full of your cock.”

Fred leans down to peck Y/N’s lips several times before his head dips down to briefly toy with her nipple. “Fuck, princess. Making such pretty noises for me.” Y/N’s mouth is hanging open, a mixture of moans, pants and whines leaving her lips. “Can I try something, princess? Let me know if you don’t like it okay?”

“I trust you, Fred.”

Fred wraps the hand he isn’t supporting himself on around Y/N’s throat, just barely applying pressure to the sides. He groans as her walls tighten around his cock, applying just a bit more pressure. “This okay, princess? Need to hear your words.”

“Yes, Fred,” Y/N gasps. “Choke me harder.” When Fred applies more pressure Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head, her walls clenching and twitching around Fred as she suddenly hits her climax.

“Such a good girl, princess. So good for me,” Fred praises, releasing Y/N’s throat so she can breathe normally as she comes down from her orgasm. “Gonna come, princess. Can I fill you up? Wanna be full of my come?”

Y/N nods, clenching around Fred to help him reach his climax. “Fill me up Fred, please. Wanna feel your cum dripping down my thighs.”

That does it for Fred, and his hips stutter as he starts to shoot his load deep inside of Y/N. He rolls his hips slowly as he comes down, only pulling out when his cock has finished twitching. He stays between Y/N’s legs for a moment, watching her folds flutter as some of his release starts to drip out of her and down onto the bed. He collapses on the bed next to Y/N and opens an arm for her to cuddle into his chest.

“Fuck that was hot,” she giggles, pressing a few kisses to Fred’s sweaty skin. One of her arms winds around his waist, squeezing slightly. “You can stay the night. If you want. No pressure or anything,” she rambles, embarrassment washing over her.

Fred tilts her chin up, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to her lips. “Darling, not even a fire would get me up out of this bed away from you.”

When Fred wakes up in the morning Y/N is still asleep, cuddled up under the blanket with his t-shirt on. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead before getting out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom. Before they passed out, Y/N had shown him how to properly take care of his tattoo and he starts to repeat the process. Once it’s clean and he’s applied a thin layer of ointment, Fred just let’s his finger trace over the fresh ink, watching himself in the mirror.

“So? Do you regret it?” Y/N asks, leaning against the doorway to the bathroom.

Fred turns to look at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “The tattoo? Or the sex?”

Y/N ponders his questions for a moment. “Both.”

“No to both,” Fred answers honestly. He opens his arms, and Y/N immediately presses herself against his front, winding her arms around his middle. Fred grips her waist with one hand, while the other starts to gently rub her back.

“When do you think you’ll want more?” Y/N asks, looking up at Fred.

“Tattoos? Or sex?” he asks with a grin.

“Both,” Y/N repeats.

Fred bites his lip. “Tattoo maybe in a few weeks, once this one is healed up. But the sex? I’d say right now.” He leans down to press a kiss to Y/N’s mouth, slowly walking them back over to her bed.

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley smut #fw #golden

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enigma-im · 4 years ago

Text

First Day of Christmas...

Trope: Childhood friends who remeet as adults Relationship: Orc x Human Word Count: 3,323

I wander around by the creek during a hot summer day. My mother has warned me against traveling here alone, but the chance of catching a frog to terrorize the other kids is far too tempting. With a stick in hand, pants legs rolled up, I waddle through the shallow. Little fish swim by my toes, frogs scurrying out from under the mud. The task is far more challenging than I thought. I poke the stick at every leaping creature, falling short every time.

"What are you doing," a boy asks from the other side of the creek. Startled, I snap to attention, looking at a small orc. He looks to be older than me, definitely taller, but how can I know?

"catching frogs," I answer.

"really? Why," he asks.

"I don't know," I grumble," because frogs are neat." I look to my feet, spotting a frog lazily swimming by. I ready my stick, slowing guiding it towards it's back. As fast as I can manage I push down. Crouching down I look to the stick, huffing in frustration as I'm left empty-handed.

"Why a stick," he interrupts my pity party.

I shrug," it's how Tommy Howser caught his frog."

"Well Tommy Howser is an idiot," he chuffs, bending down to roll up his pants.

"Oh yea," I snap," why is that?"

He trod through the water," because you're just stabbing the frog, so unless you want to eat them I suggest not poking them super hard with a stick."

The orc stops before me, snatching the stick from my hand with a huff. He tosses it aside before looking around. I watch him, observing his small tusks and short shaggy hair. I've never seen an orc with short hair. He catches my attention, pointing to the shore. I spot a frog resting on the bank, the water barely lapping at its body. The orc sneaks over, hands raised as he angles himself. Quickly, he strikes out, cupping his hands around the frog. He pinches the little creature by the legs, making it stretch out as he walks over all smug.

"See, Tommy Howser is an idiot," he grins. I ignore the jab, waddling over to look at the frog.

"Whoa," I reach out and pet it," you were so fast!"

"Of course I am," he puffs his chest," I am orc, orcs are meant to be quick and strong."

I don't pay him any mind, stretching out my hands," can I hold it?"

"Yea," he arranges his grip," pinch him around the legs and he can't hop away." I nod eagerly. I do as he says, pinching the legs, holding it with utter fascination. The little guy wiggles in my hand, it's legs trying to kick, but he can't get away. I admire it's dark green skin, comparing it to the orc's similar tint.

"I'm Lum, by the way," he says.

I smile up at him," I'm Thea. You think you can teach me how to catch a frog?"

"Of course I can," he thumps his chest," I can teach you anything."

We spend the afternoon waddling around the creek, catching and releasing frogs together.

The summer is spent similarly to that day. We upgrade from frogs to fish, from fish to birds. I learn a great deal about hunting from him, enjoying myself more than I ever have. I even get to teach him a few things, though nothing as useful as what he teaches me. The day I find out he doesn't know what tag is, is the day I begin my mission to play every child's game I know.

In the middle of fall, I sit down next to Lug eating lunch. He has been silent most of the day, barely saying anything even when I bait him into a conversation.

"What's wrong, Lug," I finally ask, setting my apple down. He sighs, dropping his head.

"I'm leaving next week," he pouts.

"Leaving," I ask," where?"

"I don't know, just south," he answers," my ma told me we have to follow the herd for winter."

I scoff," I don't even know what that means. Why would you follow a herd?"

He smiles, turning to me," we follow the herd so we don't starve. The land becomes barren in the winter and we need to eat a lot as orcs. So if we follow the herd, we can follow the food."

I huff, arms crossed," well I don't like it." Lug chuckles, scooching closer to give me a side hug.

"It's ok, Thea, we come back here every spring. So I'll be back, it will just be a while," he squeezes my shoulder," besides, it's not like I can teach you anything in the winter anyway. Everything is migrating or hibernating that hunting here would be difficult."

I push off his arm, pouting as I turn my back on him," I don't care, I want my friend here."

I hear him sigh, the leaves crunching as he walks around. His feet stop in front of me, crouching to catch my eye. I give in, looking at his stupid cocky face. He drops a hand onto my shoulder.

"I'll be back by the time the last snowfall melts, I swear it," he places his hand on his heart," I make an oath to always come back."

I snort back some snot," you better."

"I will. Now enough with this mushy stuff," he stands," I bet I can catch more frogs than you."

I hop up to my feet," you wish!"

The winter was sad, like many after that. As he promised he comes back every spring, meeting me by the creek with a cocky smile and slightly longer hair. He always has something new to teach me, happy to do so. My father doesn't much care for it once he found out, but I could hardly care.

My parents find out about Lug the first spring he came back. They noticed my dower mood during the winter then my grand smile in the spring. To my surprise they were alright with Lug, asking to meet him. We share a meal, my father asking way too many questions till mother shoos us off to play.

Every spring is started with a meal with my parents then a long recap on our winter. It's a lovely tradition that lasts a few years.

Lug and I are strong friends well into the years. Things hardly change between us, being close as ever. We play and fight, arguing and making up quickly. Growing into our own as we become teenagers. My father hovers around then, setting curfews and weird rules. The attitude change with my father and Lug is one I had to confront Lug about. He waved it off as nothing, distracting me easily.

It isn't till 15 that I understand why father was so uptight with Lug's and I's friendship. Weeks of build-up brings me to startling discoveries about new wants. I've been looking at Lug in a new light, noticing him doing the same. He is my first kiss, sharing an awkward chaste one near the creek. It's weird and right at the same time. That summer we learn very different things besides hunting and gathering. Kisses become way more enjoyable after a while.

My sixteenth year is the worst year of my life.

Fall approaches too fast, I've never had a reason to hate fall until Lug came into my life. The trees changing colors now puts me in a sour mood. The walk to the creek knowing that it may be the last time this year that I get to is troublesome. Though Lug has ways of distracting me from those thoughts until he has to wave goodbye that evening.

I meet Lug by the creek like usual, plopping down beside him with a huff. He seems far worse than I do today, the worry rising more and more the longer he stays silent. I grab his hand, threading my fingers between his.

"What's wrong," I bump his shoulder. He sighs, squeezing my hand in his.

"I have something to tell you that I know you won't like," he starts, his voice low and angry. It's rare to hear him angry, only truly seeing him mad once when his father forbade him from joining the hunting pack when he was a fresh teen.

"You can tell me anything, I can take it," I try to be courageous. It's easier to act strong when he needs it.

"I'm leaving for a little longer than before," he glances at me out the corner of his eye.

"W-well, that's ok," I try to be optimistic," I've waited months for you, what's a few more?"

He winces," it's not going to be just a few months."

I stutter on my attempt of cheer," a-a year? That's ok, I'll be fine. It's just one year, right?" he looks up to me, his eyes a bit red. My heart squeezes at the sight.

"It's a lot longer than a year, Thea," he answers. My throat tightens, threatening to choke me.

"H-How long," I ask, trying to fight back the stinging in my eyes.

"I don't know, I just know it's going to be a long time," he says, reaching out to cup my face," but I promise I'll be back. I will come back for you." he tugs my head down, resting his forehead against mine.

I sniffle," you better," I mimic the words I said that first time. He chuckles, lifting my hand and twisting it palm up. His hand covers mine, something cold sitting between our palms.

"I vow to you that I'll be back, and you know an orc never breaks their vows," he thumps his chest. I clench whatever's in my hand as I laugh.

"Yea, I know," a tear rolls down my cheek. He pets the drop away, pulling me in for a kiss. It's bittersweet, but sweet nonetheless.

We sit like this, holding one another for longer than necessary. He reluctantly lets me go, getting up off the ground. We part with a final kiss, neither one of us ready to let go knowing that we won't see one another tomorrow.

"I love you, Thea," he pecks my forehead.

I shut my eyes," I love you too, Lug."

He leaves me standing near the creek. I cry to myself, nearly falling back to the ground in my pain. I finally look to my hand, uncurling my fingers to see a thread with a wooden totem attached to it. I smile despite it all, admiring the little carving with care. I'll see him again, even if I have to wait a lifetime.

Fall becomes winter, winter becomes spring. It's hard to see the snow melt knowing that Lug won't be waiting for me. I still end up waiting by the creek, looking at the frogs as I remember the many failed attempts of snatching one. Every year I come back to the creek, hoping that this year would be the year. I always leave feeling a little more empty.

Time goes on as I grow into my own, no longer a bumbling teen but a grown woman. I get my first job at a bakery, working for a family friend until their son can take up the business. It's humbling work, though suitors take the chance to flirt while I cook in the back. My father is rather angry that I shoo off the young men trying to get a nibble of something more than pastries. I can't bring myself to argue with him.

I gain my second job at a bar, working as a waitress in my 20s. The lively people bring on a new level of enjoyment that the bakery didn't have. Fellows still take the chance to flirt but it's easier to cast aside as they are mostly drunk. Travelers come in, sharing tales of the adventures that make the time go by quicker. I like my job, though going home makes the emptiness inside louder.

I wipe up the bar, picking up empty glasses and litter as I go. The night is rather dull, only having the normal regulars in. it's to be expected as the winter comes to an end. Business should pick up as spring begins and the critters come out of their holes for mating season. The bell at the front door rings, catching my attention.

I look up to see an orc walking in.He is rather large, clearly strong, and proud of it. His hair is braided down his back, beads adorning a few smaller strands. He is very handsome like most orcs are. I don't pay him any mind, use to orcs quickly finding their spots and calling out their orders.

Polishing a glass I catch sight of the orc sitting in front of me at the bar. His large hands rest clasped on the bar top, a ring resting around his thumb.

"Hello," I smile sweetly at them," what can I get ya?"

He smirks, dropping his eyes to his hands," Fire Brandy, please."

"Please? Already the most polite customer I've had this month," I tease as I grab a tumbler, pouring his brandy.

"Is please such an unused word nowadays? Damn the discipline of mothers, not teaching their children manners," he jokes back. I snort, passing him his drink.

"well said," I knock on the bar," a please and a thank you can get you far these days."

"That right? The only thing it's gotten me is brandy and a word of praise from a cute barmaid," he smirks.

I fluster at his words, turning away to grab a dry rag," don't know about that last bit but I hope you know basic manners doesn't pay for your drink."

"Damn," he huffs," what's the point now, ain't getting anything out of it."

"Gets my respect," I offer.

He pretends to ponder," I'll take it."

I smile to myself, focusing on polishing the glasses. The orc watches me, drinking his brandy slowly. I pass him a few glances, blushing each time he offers me a smile. He really is cute, but I can't say that I'm too interested.

"Lovely necklace you have there, can't say that I've seen that totem too often," he says. My hand immediately grasps the little wood craving, my heart fluttering with the action.

"Yea, a friend made it for me," I answer casually.

"A friend? I don't think that's what that totem means," he leans forward on the bar, inspecting the carving.

"Well, friends is just an easier term. We weren't lovers, being too young for something like that," I blush at the idea.

"Yea? Don't mind telling me about this 'friend' while I waste some time," he asks. I can't help but jump at the offer, wanting to finally break the seal that's bound these memories away. Mother and Father didn't want to hear about Lug so often. Which is understandable.

"No, you don't wanna hear a story of lost love," I shuffle away, putting the freshly polished glasses away.

"Of course I do, what better story than one with young love," he rests his chin on his head," please, I'd love to hear it."

I watch him, nearly smiling at his devoted attention. With a sigh, I lounge against the bar.

"We met when we were like eight, at least I was eight. I was catching frogs by the creek when he just appeared across the way," I start.

"Why were you catching frogs? I thought little girls hated that kind of stuff," he asks.

I shrug," I wanted to show off to the boys that I could catch a frog too. One of them said he caught one using a stick to trap it against the dirt. I wanted to try it."

He scoffs," why would anyone use a stick to catch a frog?"

"I don't know," I laugh," he probably didn't want to get his hands dirty."

"Damn Tommy Howser," he shakes his head with a smile," such a wimpy boy."

"Yea, he was," I laugh with him," makes sense he moved out to the city then."

"He moved out to the city? Gods, his parents should have taken him there when he was a child," he scoffs. I can't help but smile, the words taking a bit longer to register. When it does, I startle.

"How did you know about Tommy Howser," I ask. He stiffens.

"Uh, I heard about him," he lies," from other people."

I cross my arms," what other people? Tommy hasn't lived here in three years." he flounders for another lie, falling short with a sigh of defeat.

"Hello, Thea," he nibbles on his cheek," I see you kept the necklace."

I freeze. It can't be, surely this large hulking orc couldn't possibly be him.

"Lug," I ask with a choked cry. He smiles wide, nodding. I can't speak, my eye stinging as I finally see the resemblance. He truly has grown into the man he always said he would be. As handsome as he was seven years ago.

Without much thought I jump over the bar, him helping me down before pulling me close. I hug him, my arms barely touching around his hulking frame. A sob rips from my throat as I cry tears of pure joy. He pets my back, nuzzling his head against mine.

"I'm sorry I took so long," he mumbles as he kisses my cheeks," I didn't expect to be gone so long. I apparently had a lot more to learn from the elders than I anticipated."

"You’re here now," I look up at him," that's all the matters."

Lug smiles like a fool before roughly pushes his lips against mine, his tusks way more prominent now than when we were kids. I cup his rough cheek, feeling the hairs prick at my palm. He is so different now, but still exactly the same. God, I've missed him.

We part, smiling like idiots in love. He wipes the tears off my face, I pet at his cheek. My heart feels ready to explode at the happiness coursing through my veins. Lug looks the same with his great toothy grin and wondering hands.

"I waited for you, I'm so glad I did," I look him over," you got hot."

He barks out a boisterous laugh," glad you think so, I got big and strong for you. And you…gods, you look amazing."

"oh stop," I blush.

"No," he tugs my hips to his," now that I finally have you I'm going to shower you with sweet praises and worship your body like a holy temple." I gulp, my insides turning to mush as he leans down to kiss at my neck.

"Whoa, let's slow down," I grab at his braid," I'm still at work."

He growls in frustration, pulling back," alright. How much longer?"

"Till close, which should be soon," I answer," you don't mind waiting around, right?"

"I've waited seven years, what's a few more hours to that," he says.

Lug keeps me company till the last patron leaves. The second I finish the last bit of cleaning he has me in his arms, kissing me breathless. He has half a mind to pull back, smiling down at my dazed face with glee.

I break out of his arms, grabbing his hand to tug him out the bar and into the cold night. I pull him down into a kiss, not able to hold off for another second.

"I love you, lug," I mumble against his lips.

"I love you too, Thea," he answers in kind.

"Are you going to take me home now," I ask with a wicked grin.

He growls, lifting me up and over his shoulder. I laugh, blushing as he palms my rear. I've missed him so much and we have a lot of time to make up.

#12 days of christmas #12 tropes for christmas #Enigma-IM #orc boyfriend #meet as children meet as adults #exophilia #monster boyfriend

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tuffduff · 4 years ago

Text

But...I Like You (Dave Mustaine x Reader)

Pairing: fluff Dave Mustaine x female reader

Words: 2,384

Summary: Dave’s never been one for the holidays or romance, not until one fateful day at the laundromat changes everything. Suddenly, he finds himself seeing The Nutcracker and wonders just what lengths he’d go for this girl.

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @rumoured-whispers

Dave couldn’t recognize himself in the mirror. His frame was wrapped in a new and unusually lavish coat, the first coat he owned that actually fit him—hell, the first coat he had bought ever. There was a scarf around his neck made of something called cashmere, something he never thought he would have adorning his body. Most notable, however, was the look of glassy fear in his eyes.

He had let go of general fear a long time ago. Fear held him back, and he wasn’t about to let anything hold him back. And who the fuck cares, really? But there it was again, that little uncertain glimmer making his eyes frown. He couldn’t decide what he didn’t like more—his outfit or the look on his face.

When he walked out to the living room of his apartment, he nearly tried to sneak back into his room, but Junior and Jeff had already caught sight of him.

“Woah there, is that you, Dave? Are you under there?” Jeff teased and Dave was already glaring.

“Man, where are you going, huh? I didn’t realize you even owned this outfit.” Junior added, to which Dave felt less anger, so he focused on him, rather than Jeff—who he still wanted to punch.

“To see a show.” He said curtly, trying to close the conversation forcefully, of course, to no avail.

“You’re not going to the movies dressed like that. Where are you actually going?” Jeff joked, glancing at Junior to be backed up.

“I never said movie.” Dave retorted, glaring at the guitarist before he gathered his wallet and looked for his keys.

“So, where are you really going?”

“I’m going to see a production, it’s at the Opera House, it’s a little more upscale—”

“Opera House? You’re going to see an opera?” Jeff exploded

“No.” Dave snapped, growing more annoyed.

“What does this mean for Megadeth?” Jeff just kept pestering until Dave finally yelled.

“It’s the fucking Nutcracker!” Jeff and Junior were silent before they began to laugh. “Look, it wasn’t my idea—clearly. The San Francisco Ballet Company is doing their annual show, apparently they were the first in the US to produce a full-length production, and Y/N really wanted to go…”

“Oh,” Junior realized, leaning his head back with a knowing look on his face that made Dave glare again. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, shut up about it.” Dave snapped. Jeff looked between them.

“Y/N? Who’s Y/N?”

“This girl Dave met a while back at the laundromat.” Jeff raised an eyebrow.

“Think you met ‘the one’ at the laundromat, huh?” Jeff said incredulously. Dave sent another glare at Junior before he finally saw his keys laying on the kitchen counter and snatched them up.

“You’ll never be capable of knowing what I think, Jeff. You lack the brain cells.” He snapped, leaving the apartment. Outside, he let out a breath that he could see in the air.

Was he being too harsh on his band mates? No, never that. Was he being defensive? Maybe. Was he being stupid? Yes.

Stupid for letting you actually make him have these little daydreams littering his head for the past few weeks.

It started at the laundromat, yes, but Dave wasn’t the type of man that idealized romantic prospects. The light didn’t hit you in a certain way and the angels didn’t sing like the way it always did in those cliche romance movies. Rather, you dropped your entire load of laundry on the floor in front of him.

“Shoot,” you had sighed, merely looking at the garments of clothing with disdained tiredness. As he watched it all unfold, he had imagined what he would do in that moment—probably react in some type of anger—and watched as a smile came across your face before you looked directly at him. It was just a brief moment, but Dave felt like he was confined to that chair for an hour. Like he’d never been seen before in his life until that moment, in the dimly lit dingy laundromat.

“It must be Monday.” You said, before calmly getting on your knees and beginning to put the clothes back in the basket. For some reason, he found himself next to you.

“It’s Sunday.” He corrected you, to which you laughed.

“Even worse.”

His hand landed on a Led Zeppelin shirt to which he glanced over at you. “You a fan?”

“Yeah! Love them. How can you go wrong with them?” You eyed him again longer than he expected and he nearly winced when you narrowed them speculatively. “You look familiar.”

“I’m in a band.” He admitted, before too quickly adding, “Megadeth.” He hoped to see realization light your eyes, but you shook your head.

“No. Maybe I’ve seen your face on MTV?”

“There’s a chance.”

“I was joking.” You laughed. “But clearly, you’re not, huh. You know, there’s a record store across the street. Prove it.” You smiled at him.

The both of you left your laundry to be washed and headed over to the local record shop decorated with string Christmas lights on the roof and frosted windows. He bought their latest for you So Far, So Good…So What? and briefly gave you quick insight about where he got the name of the band from, song titles, why he enjoyed music...

Okay, he spilled his guts. He couldn’t stop talking. But that wasn’t his fault—you were hanging onto his every word. You listened, really listened; you seemed to listen more than anyone he had ever spoken to. More than that, you seemed to understand. And so, he went back to the laundromat next week at the same exact time, walking as quick as he could and hating that fact that he was doing so, until he felt relief when he saw you inside again.

You remembered him too—you smiled when you saw him. “It must be Sunday, huh?”

“Got it right this time.” He replied with a smirk.

Dave was aware he could talk someone’s ear off. He had a lot to say about the world and its affairs and usually didn’t care a whole lot about other people’s thoughts—they were usually stupid. But you, he made an active attempt to listen to. He listened rather than spoke, and when he did speak, he would ask questions, trying to get to know you on an even deeper level. And just as he assumed, you kept his attention better than anyone else.

You had a way of looking at the world from a completely different perspective than him. Like it was something to be solved. Like a bad thing didn’t mean it was the end of the road. That nothing really stays dead, that every little thing has a purpose, a meaning.

“Surely that’s not true.” Dave finally said. “Not every single thing has a meaning. Some things are just the way they are and that’s the way it is.” You just smiled at him.

“If it weren’t for the fact that my washer broke, I wouldn’t have come here. And if it weren’t for the fact that I thought it was Monday—my usual laundry day—instead of Sunday, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Dave didn’t understand the way his heart pounded a little harder. He wondered if he imagined the way your eyes stared a little too long at his and felt absolutely stupid for even having such a thought. And yet, he couldn’t stop staring. He couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering down your body. He couldn’t stop himself from telling David about you.

Oh, he knew exactly what was happening. He was strapped in on a rollercoaster ride and he was nearing the drop, unable to do nothing but watch as he felt things he’d never felt before. The whole reason he pursued guitar playing was to pick up girls; he had had lots of girls. And you, you weren’t like them. You seemed to admire him for being in a band, but you were more interested in why he hated breakfast and never ate it. Or why he didn’t like Christmas.

“This doesn’t just make you automatically happy?” You questioned him, gesturing to the atmosphere that surrounded the two of you. Your meetings had upgraded to a coffee shop. Dave didn’t drink coffee, but he watched you order a hot chocolate and realized maybe that was okay and ordered the same.

“What? The crowds, the god-awful music, the annoying lights everywhere, everyone’s ugly sweaters?” You grinned and laughed, and he wished the sound could be pumped out of the shop’s speakers rather than “Jingle Bells.”

“It’s just the time of year when everything is supposed to go right.” You ignored him, smiling a little. “When I was a kid, I used to go and see The Nutcracker with my family every year. The San Francisco Ballet Company started it—they had the first full length production back in 1944. Or at least, that’s what my mom said.”

“I’m guessing they’ve got shows going on with it being so close to Christmas.” Dave wasn’t sure why he was saying that. You nodded.

“Yeah, their last show is Sunday.”

“Why don’t we go?” You were just as surprised as he was.

“What? You’re kidding. A ballet doesn’t seem very up your alley, Mr. Megadeth.”

“Try me, think I’m just some metal knucklehead that couldn’t appreciate it?”

“I don’t think you would like it.”

“Maybe I will, you don’t know me.” You chuckled, but still appeared unsure, which only made him more determined. “Look, you said you haven’t been in forever. I’m in a good place this year after the album, those tickets will be nothing. It’s on me. So, if I were you, I would just agree before I change my mind.”

“Well...alright.”

And here he was outside this damn theater, pulling on his coat, knowing his hair was out of place despite that fact that he had tied it back. He was still getting strange looks by the crowd of couples walking arm in arm into the theater, telling him without words that he didn’t belong.

“Dave?” He heard from behind him and turned. He was already thinking of some kind of dry teasing reply, but all words left his head at the sight of you, dressed nicer than he’d seen you yet, every hair in place. “Look at you! You own a scarf?” He scoffed, feeling a smirk grow on his face.

“Stole it from a guy on my way here.” He joked to make you laugh. To his surprise, you also leaned in and kissed his cheek. As if that’s just what you did. All of it was so foreign; you, this theater, this ballet show. And he was a puzzle piece that shouldn’t fit.

“Shall we?” You asked. He was still trying to find the words to compliment you, but instead, he nodded.

In your seats with the lights down, Dave alternated his time from watching the stage and the dancers to the other audience members, young and old alike. All of them seemed to fit each other’s company, each other’s social circle; he was the anomaly.

And then there was you, which he elected to watch for the rest of his time. The way your eyes quickly flitted back and forth as you took in the sight, your eyebrows raising, how you’d hold your breath for a second at the really dramatic parts.

All of a sudden, there was you, sweeter than a sugar plum, somehow embodying all the niceness everyone said Christmas was supposed to be about. Thanks to you, he was out of his element, and he felt like he was meant to be there. After all, where did he really belong anyway?

Did it matter if he could be anywhere with you?

“So?” You asked him eagerly after the show when the lights came back on. The two of you sat in your seats as everyone around you stood, in no hurry.

“You’re going to be surprised to hear this, but there are a lot of similarities between classical music and metal. Really, Tchaikovsky’s stuff isn’t so different than—”

“I meant the show! The story! Oh, did you see the costumes?” You laughed, and he smiled, shaking his head at you.

“To be honest, I was watching you most of the time.” You seemed startled by his words, and he took your speechlessness as the chance to keep going. “I couldn’t find the words to tell you earlier how beautiful you look. Really, this whole night I just kept thinking that maybe it was a mistake. That I’m not the type of guy that comes here, I’m the guy playing in the sleazy, dark club on the bad side of town. But I was wrong. And I’m glad I came; I should have done it right though. I should’ve brought you flowers, picked you up, I should’ve complimented you as soon as I saw you, I should have kissed you when you kissed my cheek—”

“Dave.” You interrupted him calmly, taking his hand in yours and giving him an ever-growing smile. “You have no idea how much this means to me. Christmas is my favorite time of the year, but this year it’s been so hectic, and I haven’t been able to really enjoy it...until now. That was all I actually wanted. I don’t care about the flowers.” He stared at you for a second before he smiled.

“That’s all?” He asked before he leaned in closer, grazing the side of your cheek with his lips as he whispered. “You don’t want one more thing?” He felt your hand rest on his cheek and turned his head to press his lips to yours, savoring the moment and realizing he had never really been kissed before, not like this.

“Well, I guess that too.” You mumbled with that sweet smile on your face before you looked up at him with big eyes. “Okay but really, was it up to your standards, or was I right all along?”

“I hate Christmas. And I don’t really enjoy the things that come with it.” He admitted with a keen smirk as he pulled back, and you giggled. He let himself enjoy the feeling of your face cradled between his hands, so used to always cradling a guitar, this new sensation—skin-on-skin—was intoxicating. As were your lips, that he leaned in again to steal another kiss from. “But...I like you.”

#gonna get this one out of my system first #Dave mustaine #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine imagine #megadeth imagine

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watermelonlipstick · 4 years ago

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Dreams, Chapter 16

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 16

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1754

Summary: Some of Sam’s efforts to ‘nest’ in their new life together reveal new possibilities.

Warnings: angst, FLUFF, swearing, s l o w b u r n

Water laps at the weather-beaten wood of the dock underneath you slowly and the rhythm feels like hypnosis with the sun beating down a blanket. You sense Dean at your side without opening your eyes.

“So…was he any good?”

You can’t help but laugh, hearing the echo go out over the small lake, and get up to your elbows. It’s bright enough that you have to squint over at Dean where he lays next to a couple fishing poles and a cooler, t shirt hitched up to show a sliver of his stomach with his arms behind his head. His smile is devilish, made even more smug with eyes closed against the sun so his lashes cast an inch-long shadow on the dusting of freckles across his cheeks. “You can’t ask that!” you giggle.

His lips flatten into a knowing line. “So that’s a no?”

“Jesus Christ, of course it’s not a n—you know what, I’m not talking to you about this,” you smile, laying back down.

“Ooh, so it’s a yes,” he teases as he turns on his side to face you. “Go Sammy. That mean you two are, like, going steady now?”

You let your head loll over to him and roll your eyes. “Are you done?”

“Not yet. Is he going to let you wear his letterman jacket? Take you to junior prom?”

“I’m giving you ten more seconds.”

Dean laughs, free and easy. “Fine, okay, I’m done. Wait—did he wrap it?”

“DEAN!” you yell, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Okay, alright, okay.” He’s still chuckling when you open your eyes to look over at him and reaches over to slip a piece of hair behind your ear. “You, ah, you seem happy.”

You search his eyes for any hidden anger and find only the softness of calm affection with a pinch of solemnity. Where his hand lingers in your hair you turn into it, pressing your lips to Dean’s palm. “I am.”

Dean smiles, straight teeth a perfect row of pearls so white you think for a second they might ‘ding’ with sparkle like a cartoon, and he looks relaxed enough as he puts his hands back behind his head that it calls up images of a kitten falling asleep in a sunny spot like this even as he keeps his eyes on you. “Took you guys long enough.”

“And you’re still okay with this?”

“Yeah, hell yeah. That’s the best I could ever ask for, you two happy. So, what do you say? Want to see if we can catch some fish?”

Spring was a blessing; clean greenness breaking through the grey and white purifying the air and breathing new life into you, Sam, and the community you’d come to be a part of. The cabin was that much nicer with the new hours of sunlight pouring through the windows and all the upgrades you had put into it, to the point that you began to feel truly comfortable there. You even invited the Kaisers over for dinner a few times, feeling more like equal partners in your burgeoning friendship with them.

You started to feel stable enough to get things; picked up a bookshelf at the combination flea/farmer’s market that happened in the K-12 school’s field every Saturday morning and got higher quality spatulas to cook with, the kinds of nonessential stuff you never would’ve bought before knowing you were going to stay in one place long enough to get good use out of them. Sam, in turn, kept building: changing the locks to sturdier ones and erecting a shed big enough to hold a lawn mower.

You’d been cooking on an early Sunday afternoon when Sam came home and crossed the cabin in a few strides, giving you a kiss on the cheek before setting a thick paper bag down on the kitchen counter. “Smells great, what’re you making?”

“Ratatouille!” you buzzed, placing a slice of eggplant carefully into its slot. “I’ve never had it, but I’ve always thought it looks so pretty. Hopefully it’s good. Where were you?”

“Hardware store. I thought maybe I could build a greenhouse; see if we could grow anything. Might be enough to work against the cold.”

You raised your eyebrows in appreciative surprise. “Look at you! What’re you thinking? Poppies? Platinum OG? Purple Haze?”

Setting a box of screws down, Sam rolled his eyes through a smile. “My plan was more along the lines of tomatoes or something, but I’ll, uh, take those suggestions under advisement.” You had a sudden urge to twist a gentle finger into the dimple that stayed on his cheek as he unloaded the rest of his supplies but didn’t want to embarrass him, instead sweeping some garlic skins into your hand to throw into the small bucket Sam kept under the sink to collect scraps for the compost pile. When the bag was empty he refolded it and took off his jacket, passing by you to put it on its hook by the door. “Want any help?” he asked, sounding about as breezy as you’d ever heard him.

“It just has to bake for about an hour. Does a late lunch work with your construction schedule?”

Sam leaned over to slip a hand around your waist and kissed the top of your head before grabbing an armful of stuff to take outside. “Definitely. Just yell when you’re ready for me.”

You giggled and waggled your eyebrows suggestively. “I’m always ready for you.”

He tried his best not to blush but bit his lip in spite of himself, looking up at you with a bashful twinkle in his eye. “I walked into that one, didn’t I?”

In response you held up a spare slice of zucchini that Sam readily accepted, opening his mouth like an obedient puppy and chewing as he went out the back door.

You loved watching Sam work on his greenhouse in the weeks that followed, getting so excited about the tiny shoots sprouting up from the soil that he sometimes woke up early to check on them before starting his day. After a few weeks he woke you up one morning with a cup of coffee, bare-chested under slightly sleep-tangled hair and the hems of his flannel pants sloppily half inside his boots. “I wanna show you something,” he said, throat still gravelly. You accepted the mug and got out of bed, following him drowsily and jamming your feet inside your shoes at the door, too tired to worry about the laces.

He led you into the greenhouse with its clear plastic walls and pointed down at a petite bud on top of a green stalk. It had the telltale waviness of a basil leaf, and when you bent down to look closer at it the plant already smelled herbaceous. “It’s so cute!” you hummed. Sam practically glowed with satisfaction, an unbridled smile the perfect accessory to the broad span of his chest where it was backlit by the fuzzy light through the greenhouse walls. You straightened and rubbed his back in congratulations, staring down at the plant together with your coffees like parents on Christmas morning. Tucked in the corner of the greenhouse behind the basil, a scattering of bitty white flowers caught your eye against the burnt umber soil.

“Wait, you already have stuff flowering in here? What’s that?” you asked, tiptoeing around the wooden stakes in the soil to get closer.

“Oh—I, uh—” he stammered behind you.

At arm’s length the flowers looked vaguely familiar and you stopped short. “Is that—?” You turned back to Sam, who seemed not to be able to come up with anything to say, his face the kind of blank surprise that indicated he didn’t know whether you were about to be upset. “Really? Where’d you even…how did you get some?”

He tucked his hair behind his ears to stall for even a half second. “I—well, I found a guy who got me—got us—some.”

“You still have an African dream root hookup?”

Sam’s lips pressed into a well-practiced silent ‘I guess?’ and he reached back to ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck, the movement stretching his side distractingly enough that if you hadn’t been so startled by the discovery of a plot of dream root literally in your own backyard you might’ve forgotten what you were talking about altogether.

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to explain.

“I made some calls, found someone in Milwaukee who got his hands on some and he mailed it here. I didn’t want to, uh, tell you in case I couldn’t get it to grow.”

All kinds of possibilities and frustrations raced through your head. “So you’ve had this for weeks? That’s why you built the greenhouse?” Sam didn’t answer fast enough. “Never mind, I don’t care,” you found yourself saying, and surprisingly, actually meaning. You took a deep breath to stop the words from jumbling together. “Do you think it’ll work?” you breathed, knowing he would understand the real question: would we be able to see Dean together?

“Only one way to find out.”

For whatever reason you’d gotten freshly showered, made up, and dressed before brewing the tea with Sam on your next day off of work. It felt like there should be some level of pomp and circumstance about it, this giant undertaking that might be able to change your whole life again, even knowing that your prep wouldn’t translate into a dream. You were giddy with anxiety and almost wished you could reasonably put it off, the idea of this new possibility being yet another dead end making you nauseous.

“Your place or mine?” you asked, trying to put a little sheen of humor on your nerves.

Sam chuckled but you could tell he was nervous too, rubbing his palms dry on the knees of his jeans over and over again. “You haven’t done it before, right?”

You shook your head. “Is there a learning curve or something?”

“Honestly it’s been long enough that I don’t really remember. Hold on—hold still.” He reached out and very gingerly swept a finger across your cheekbone, drawing back to show you an eyelash stuck to the whorl of its pad.

You straightened where you sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s as good a sign as any. Cheers, I guess.” Sam dropped the tiny hair into his mug and touched the ceramic to yours, his eyes hopeful and reassuring as you took tandem sips.

And then you were off.

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 17

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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