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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 4 years ago

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VelvetCardiganBucky’s Recommendations 2021: Week 12 & 13 | March 14th – March 27th

Welcome to weeks 12 & 13 of my recommendations, if you would like to be featured on a future list, I follow the hashtag #VelvetCardiganBucky, message me, tag me in your future works, or reblog this post and link to your story, one-shot, Masterlist, writing challenge, etc.

Be aware some if not most stories and writers on this list are meant to be consumed by an audience of those 18+. My blog is also an 18+ blog.

✨Page breaks are made @firefly-graphics✨

«Last Week

Week 14»

My Masterlist

My Fic Rec List of Mafia/Mob Bucky/Sebastian & Steve/Chris/Andy

Stuff I Posted This Week:

Steve + Bey = 4Ever » Steve Rogers and Bey carved places in each other’s hearts, that no one else could ever replace.

I Hear A Symphony » Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader — Reader plays an important song to her for Bucky.

—Formerly The Winter Soldier » “I’m no longer the winter soldier, my name is James Bucky Barnes & you're part of my effort to make amends.”

Lee Bodecker

(Mini) Series:

*Give In by @not-a-great-writer » soft!dark!Lee Bodecker x shy!Reader — She didn’t think she was anything special. So when the intimidating Sheriff takes an interest in her, she can’t help but feel a little unsettled. Her boring life is about to get a little interesting. | This story has to be one of my all time series I’ve ever read, and I know I will weep when it’s over. The chapters are decently sized, you have angst, fluff and smut. I couldn’t ask for more, it’s simply a masterpiece.

Deadbeat Pt. 9 by @the-witty-pen-name » Lee Bodecker x F!Reader — You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room. | Cole thank you for feeding my current Lee Bodecker obsession after I watched The Devil All The Time, for the time. This story is good and I love soft!Lee, and one where no one dies. At least I hope no one dies...

SamBucky

One-Shots:

Loving You Is Cherry Pie by @river-soul » Sam Wilson x Reader x Bucky Barnes — When Sam Wilson, one of your regulars at the cafe finally asks you out, you’re ecstatic until he tells you he wants his friend to join. When you meet Bucky, you decide it might be worth your while after all. [Allusions to stalking, exhibitionism and explicit sex, 18+] | There is just not enough SamBuck stories out there and we have @river-soul to thank for feeding our love for the boys and giving us some good smut, especially to tide us over till Friday.

Nothing Good Happens After 2 AM by @callmeluna » Sam Wilson x Reader x Bucky Barnes — You are admittedly a handful when you’ve had a few drinks in you. Luckily, your partners Sam and Bucky are more than up for the challenge… maybe. | If you are looking for something to make you laugh, might I suggest reading this? The whole time as I read this I couldn’t get the huge smile off my face, it was that good.

Bucky Barnes

Drabbles:

Matching by @heli0s-writes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Reader and Bucky are “matchy matchy,” with their belly button rings. | This is adorable as well as very funny.

One-Shots:

Smooth Criminal by @bestofbucky » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Based on a dream @velvetcardiganbucky had. You’re parents told you to never give rides to strangers, but when you notice Bucky Barnes trying to break into your car, you know some strangers aren’t so bad. | Jenny did my dream justice! I honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better.

Don’t Over Do It by @whisperlullaby » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your boyfriend is an asshole. Bucky reminds you that you are perfect the way you are. | I can’t describe this anyway other than perfect, that I wish I had a Bucky like this there for me. Trust me you’ll love the ending.

Coming Home to You by @angrythingstarlight » Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your Biker boyfriend is finally home and he’s going to show you how much he missed you. With every inch he has. And you’re going to remember how much he loves you. | It’s not very often you read something that has an alternate ending and when you do you find yourself loving both endings. Both endings are hot, the smut is great, again who couldn’t love Biker!Bucky?

Won’t Let You Go by @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay » Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC!Kori — Kori met Bucky in one of his clubs, out to get shit-faced with a couple of friends to forget about her worries and maybe take home a guy to further rid herself of her numerous frustrations. Little did she know that the one-night stand with Bucky would turn into so much more than that. | Thank you so much for entering my writing challenge, it means so much. This one-shot is so good, it hit me right the feels and left me falling in love with Kori and Bucky.

Show Me How To Ride by @angrythingstarlight » Beefy Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — You’ve been keeping a secret from your biker boyfriend. He is going to get the information out of you one way or the other. | It’s hot and it makes you realize just how much you realize just how much you love Biker!Bucky.

Bubble Baths by @floatingpetals » Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU) — Even your boyfriend Bucky, needs to wind down at the end of a stressful with a bubble bath, but he doesn’t want to do it alone. | Okay, so my summary of this sucks but let me just say this is fluffy and smutty all at once. I wish I had Bucky to take a bubbly bath with.

Bad Boy!Bucky Barnes x Shy!Reader by @gagmebucky — in which there’s nowhere to sit and bucky offers his lap—then, subsequently, his cock. (bad boy!bucky x shy!reader, dirty talk, exhibitionism and voyeurism, cockwarming, unprotected sex.) | *chugs water* yeah is it a little hot in here? I probably would have failed class if Bucky had been in my class along with Steve, I wouldn’t have known who to stare at, forget learning the material.

**Greater Good by @fuel-joy » Bucky Barnes x Reader — There is a cure for the zombie outbreak but is it worth the cost. | Grab your tissues, because you are going to need them. Thanks darling for entering my writing challenge and making me feel so many feels with this one.

(Mini) Series:

A Tender Heart ♥️ Pt. 2 by @river-soul » Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader — You’ve been sweet on Bucky since you started working at the compound six months ago. Normally quiet and mild mannered, an unexpired fight with a coworker brings Bucky into your orbit. [A/B/O dynamics, brief mention of bullying and fluff] | If anyone can pull at your heartstrings it’s @river-soul making the beginning of this series look so promising and I can’t wait to see where it goes.

Run To You 🪙 Pt. 10 🪙 Pt. 11 🪙 Pt. 12 by @bestofbucky » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Bodyguard!Reader — Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard. | Jenny left me at the edge of my seat, making this such an amazing story, I always look forward to her updates, and so sad that there is only 1 chapter left.

Better than Working sequel to This by @angrythingstarlight » Beefy Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Beefy Biker Bucky shows you all the benefits of working from home. In fact what he has for you is so much better than work. | Sometimes you just need to read something hot to lift your spirits, let this do that.

Stucky

One-Shots:

*Tell Me What You Want by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader; Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mob boyfriend, is none other than Steve Rogers and he is willing to get you whatever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. And be careful what you ask for because he’s going to give it to you over and over again. | This is so hot that I highly recommend not reading this anywhere out in public. The smut in this is just *chefs kiss*

(Mini) Series:

Miracle Pt. 2 🥀 Pt. 1 by @heavenhatesme » Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader; Soft!Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — When infertility threatens mankind with extinction and there hasn’t been a baby for almost 18 years, what happens when two certain super soldiers fall for the same woman and accidentally impregnate her? | It’s not tagged as dark, sorry to the writer I tagged it that please forgive me? But I just want to tell everyone heed the tags. I do look forward to reading what happens next. The smut in this is great!

Invisible Ink by @navybrat817 » Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers — The owners of the Howling Commandos Tattoo Parlor want to make you their best girl. | I love the idea of tattoo’d Bucky and Steve, but that's because I have a weakness for tattoo’s. So this series is just right up my alley, and the start of it is so good that I know it’s good to be a great one!

Steve Rogers

Drabbles:

Chocolate Milk & Dino Nuggets by @nony-bear » Steve Rogers x Reader — Daddy Steve helps make his little girl feel better after a long week. DDLG THEMES | Had me wishing I had a Steve to make me Dino nuggets after a long day at work. It’s precious folks.

Prompt 4K Drabble Challenge by @sweeterthanthis » Steve Rogers x Reader — “Show me how deep you can take it.” | You’re going to need an ice cold bath after this one.

One-Shots:

A Cruel Tide by @writerwrites » Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader — A lost hero thinks she needs saving, but this divorcée’s needs were different, fleeting, and then full of attachment. Can they overcome the burdens on their shoulders and keep their word? | Sometimes you want to wrap the reader and Steve in a blanket and protect them while enjoying the smut. This gave me that and more.

Untitled Request by @navybrat817 » Steve Rogers x Reader — Sending Steve a naughty photo while he’s in a meeting leads to punishment that will remind you to never do it again, right? | Hi, I’m just going to drench myself in ice cold water. ✌🏻

(Mini) Series:

*Control Pt. 3 🔐 Pt. 1 🔐 Pt. 2 by @river-soul » dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — When a probationary agent asks you out on a date you learn Steve’s intentions for you have evolved. He doesn’t take kindly to someone touching what’s his. [Noncon, physical violence (biting), grooming behavior and explicit sex, 18+] | Definitely one of my favorite series to read on Tumblr so far, you know it’s dark, and the smut is great. I always look forward to the updates on this one.

*Lipstick and Crayons 🖍 Ch. 4 by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob. | This story always gets my heart a racing and leaves you with questions as to what is going to happen next. I truly love it and Soft!Dad while being Angry!Mob boss Steve all at the same time, this story just has it all for me.

This Is My Unbecoming by @river-soul » Werewolf!Steve Rogers x Witch!Reader — When the Hydra pack graduates from turning humans to swell their ranks to kidnapping and murdering witches to consolidate power, Steve knows he needs to strike. He makes a deal with a powerful coven leader for a witch of his own in exchange for destroying the rogue pack. [Magical realism, biting, blood, slightly dubious consent and explicit sex, 18+] | Okay this is so good and I would like to thank the teenage mind of @river-soul for creating this! Like seriously thank you. I look forward to reading more!

It’s been a long, long time ☕️ Ch.1 by @mostly-marvel-musings » Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve Rogers – a man who has lost too much finds himself blending into the crowd in attempts to forget his past but revisits familiar places and spends days sketching his heart out. A rainy evening leads him to find shelter in your coffee shop. Is having meaningful conversations over endless cups of coffee with a stranger the key to unlocking a heart that’s lost the will to love? | The prologue tore my heart out, it truly did but the first chapter just puts the pieces back together. I really love this and I’m honestly looking forward to reading what happens next. I can’t thank you enough for entering my writing challenge!

*Not A Team Part: 1 by @shedobewritingalittle » Steve Rogers x Reader — The Reader tries to live a normal life, but her memories won’t leave her alone. Rhodey comes to visit the reader with a proposition. | There aren't a lot of stories out there that have walk on parts with Rhodey in it and I didn’t know how much I missed out on having him in stories till I read this. This was just so well written and the characterization of Rhodey was perfect, how Peyton got the emotions written across, it’s perfect. Read this and have some tissues on hand. I will always love it.

Andy Barber

One-Shots:

Closing Arguments by @river-soul » Andy Barber x Reader — Andy and you are going out for the first time since your daughter’s birth. Anxious about leaving her behind Andy does his best to make you feel better. [Fluff with explicit sex (f recieving), 18+] | So fluffy and sweet!

Keep the Heat by @ozarkthedog » Andy Barber x Reader — Andy fucks you in the coat. | Semi-Short and the smut is oh so good.

(Mini) Series:

Homebound 🏡 Ch. 1 by @fuel-joy » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader — You witness your neighbor kill his wife. You try to gather evidence all from the comfort of your home. | Prepare to be at the edge of your seat with this one, it’s just that good.

One Night by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader — One night changes your entire life. | This is dark and exciting, with tons of angst in it. I love a real good dark!Andy fic and this is it.

Chris Evans

One-Shots:

Mirrors by @cherrychris » Chris Evans x Reader — “wanna know what i see? me owning you and this sweet little pussy” | Sometimes you read things that just blow your mind and this was one of those things.

*Work Party by @harrylovex » Chris Evans x Reader — you get drunk at a work party and chris looks after you… | This is really adorable and probably one of my favorite fluffy Chris Evans one-shots I’ve ever read.

Misc.

One-Shots:

An Act of Kindness by @stargazingfangirl18 » Jake Jensen x Female!Reader — A simple act of kindness seals your fate. | I would like to simply start of by saying that this was my first Jake Jensen fanfiction in years, or maybe my first one, and all I could was where have I been hiding from him? So good and glad I read this and so will you!

*Come Back Safe by @celestialbarnes » Sam Wilson x Reader — based on tfatws, you find out sam’s leaving for a mission, afraid to lose the man you love, you confront him, and he promises you to come back. | So fluffy you’ll want to cuddle it under a blanket fort and wish under a thousand starry night skies for it to come true.

(Mini) Series:

Fiery Friends Pt. 3 🔥 Pt. 4 by @wanderinglunarnights » Johnny Storm x OFC!Sophia Jones — Johnny invites his best friend Sophia to stay with him in his penthouse during quarantine. | I really like this story, because I find myself mentally rooting for Sophia and Johnny, also going you go girl. Looking forward to what is next for this duo.

Ensnared Pt. 2 🔗 Pt. 1 by @stargazingfangirl18 » Ransom Drysdale x Female!Reader; minor Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Reader — Robert preps you for the handoff to the smooth talking stranger who bought you, but before he lets you go, he wants to have a little fun first. | So good and hot. Honestly I look forward to hopefully finding out what happens between the reader and Ransom.

Made With Love by @ayybtch » Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader + Friends to Lovers — Wanda is an excellent cook but a terrible baker. A rough day leads her to the bakery in the Avengers compound where she meets you, the lead baker. After a dismal attempt at making chocolate chip cookies, you volunteer to help Wanda learn how to bake. Your friendship grows stronger with each successful recipe until the two of you stumble into something even sweeter than baked goods. | This story will constantly have you smiling, sure it’s only 3 chapters so far, but I started off reading it in a bad mood but by the 3rd chapter I was just so sappy and happy. I can’t wait for more!

Without Me by CuttingMyFingersOff » Legolas x OFC!Braigeth — Braigeth was an elf who has nothing but memories of Legolas to help her survive being imprisoned in the walls of Orthanc. That is, until she is able to escape and reunite with him. | I’ve been invested in this since my friend came forward to me with the idea for this story and now that it’s being written, I couldn’t be more excited to read it. I need more Lord of the Rings in my life if I’m being honest.

Forever and Ever More by @syntheticavenger » Dark Alpha!Ransom Drysdale x Omega!Reader — Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha but he has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not. | Prepared to go on a Hawaiian EMOTIONAL roller coaster with this story, there are so many times in this story you find yourself picking your jaw up off the floor. I’ve linked you to chapter 9, which has all the previous chapters, listed.

Is A Shout Out To My...

@bluemusickid in celebration of 700 followers is hosting a Holi Celebration Writing Challenge, that is due April 30th, but extension can be given. Any Marvel or MCU characters can be used in addition to Chris Evans and his characters. The theme is Holi and its colors, for better explanation visit the link provided.

@whisperlullaby in celebration of 700 followers is hosting a 700 Followers Challenge, your entries will be due May 5th. The theme is kinks, no RPF, DDLG/MMLG, bathroom related , incest, or under age kinks. This is MCU characters, Sebastian Stan, and Chris Evans characters x OFC or Reader. For more information visit the link provided. Congrats Becca on the 700 followers you deserve it hun!

@stargazingfangirl18 in celebration of 5K followers is hosting a Soft Dark Writing Challenge, which is due May 31st. Don’t let the name fool you, your writing can be soft, dark, or soft!dark, or headcanons about any Chris character. 500 word minimum with no max, but new or be read as a stand alone piece. For more information visit the link provided and be sure to congratulate Siri on her 5K milestone!

@cloudystevie in celebration of 4K followers is hosting a Mob!AU Writing Challenge, that is due on May 30th. You can use Chris Evans and any of his characters he’s played before, as well as make it NSFW or SFW. To learn more about it please visit the link below. Also congratulations Jasmeen on the 4K followers! 💗

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barzzal · 4 years ago

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between halls and thin walls → part two

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(

↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!

note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.

To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.

“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.

Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.

“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.

“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is.

Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.

‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.

“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.

“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”

He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself.

“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.

Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.

“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards.

So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier.

“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess.

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones.

Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.

“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.

“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.

You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.

Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?”

With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach.

“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”

“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage.

“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?”

Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.

Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse.

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”

Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.

“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.

“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.

“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life.

“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.

“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you.

“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.

You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.

“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand.

You were fucking unbelievable.

Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning.

“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.

With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.

Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth.

“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water.

“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.

“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?”

“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.

“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.

Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong.

“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go.

Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.

You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.

That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you.

Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him.

Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily.

You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.

“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.

You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over.

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table.

𖥸

If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice.

He was just that damn good.

As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that.

It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself.

You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning.

You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on.

The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back.

Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly.

“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.

You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”

They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice.

You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know.

In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.”

“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more.

Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods.

“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom.

“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice.

You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.

𖥸

“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed.

“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.

The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest.

Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.

The Proposal, to be exact.

You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad.

The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together.

Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times.

Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.

Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring.

Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.

When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere.

Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”

“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch.

“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago.

“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.

You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.”

Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.

Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out.

Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention.

Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.”

Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction.

“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief.

Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.

You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye.

Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.”

Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way.

Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible.

A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”

“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.

You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.

“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.”

Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.

𖥸

“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say.

Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes.

Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him.

What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you.

Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it.

However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.

All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it?

That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.

Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.

A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door.

“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.

“Hi.”

“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.

Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”

You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being.

“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.

To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”

Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame.

You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.

Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze.

Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more.

“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.”

Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.”

“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself.

“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him.

Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head.

He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”

There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air.

Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.”

You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself.

The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end?

A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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hikarimiyanaga · 3 years ago

Text

Loving You (Part 2)

Part 1

Because I just realized how short the first part was... and despite being hell week for me I'm going to give an update because I expected this fic to be just under 10,000 words but now it's double that amount... I did not plan nor expect this... so here we are! I had a solid plotline... and everything just kinda derived off that.

Oh well, I love Wanda anyways.

Warning: Omegaverse. Beta!Reader x Omega!Wanda Maximoff. Curse Words.

Taglist : @mitchiesdungeon

You yawn as you read the last chapter of your latest novel. Your phone pings and you furrow your eyebrows… Who knows your number? You haven’t given it to anyone ove-

“The goddamn bookmark.” You groan as you remember. Right. That bookmark was pretty important to you until high school that you’ve written your number on it. You finish your novel before getting your phone. It was an unknown number.

Unknown: Pretty smooth.

You: I forgot that my number was there.

You save her number nonetheless.

Wanda: Oh. Still. This works out for me.

You: Why?

Wanda: I get to talk to you even if you avoid me.

You sigh.

You: You still want to hang out with me?

Wanda: Desperately. I love talking to you.

You blush and gulp. You decide to tell her the truth.

You: I love talking to you too.

Wanda: *Heart eyes*

Wanda: See? Let’s eat lunch tomorrow.

You: No.

Wanda: Why not?

You: People will avoid you.

Wanda: Don’t care.

You: You should.

Wanda: Why should I?

Wanda groans in frustration. Why were you so stubborn? Why can’t you just fall for her charms?

You: Just because.

You: Don’t try to eat with me tomorrow.

You: I won’t be in the cafeteria.

You: Goodnight.

You charge your phone and sigh. You like her. You really do but you can’t drag her into the shitty treatment of a Beta. Moreover, she was an Omega. Omegas tended to treat Betas more harshly than Alphas did. You shudder as you think of last year. You clutch your chest as you cry silently. Never again.

You yawn as you trudge through the halls again… maybe reading a long novel into the night wasn’t such a good idea. You go to your locker and get your books for the day.

“You still haven’t told me why.” You close your locker in shock and flinch as Wanda frowns at you. You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “Did I wake you up last night?”

“No. I was reading a novel.” You answer quickly and walk away.

“Come on, tell me.” She follows you and you groan as you drag her into a bathroom.

“It’s because you’re an Omega!” You shout and grit your teeth. “The people here will eat you alive if you hang out with me.” You say more softly and run a hand through your hair. “The Omegas will think that you’ve betrayed them and settled with a lowly Beta.”

“I don-“ She reasons but you glare at her.

“Stop being a stubborn idiot! Do you want to get bullied!?” She stops as she sees the sadness in your eyes.

“They bullied you?” She whispers and reach out to you but you pull away as if she’s too hot and you just got burned. You take a deep breath and hide your trembling hand.

“Just stop trying to hang out with me. It won’t do you any good.” You leave her and she clutches her chest. What have they done to you?

You eat alone on the bleachers and read.

“Here you are.” You flinch and look down on the voice. It was Pietro. What could he possibly want? Wanda was the only one wanting to hang out with you. The only one trying to be your friend. What was her twin brother doing here? At your hiding place that you chose so she would finally get the clue and leave you alone.

“Wha-“ He hops on and sits besides you. What’s with the Maximoff siblings and never bothering to ask for permission? You glare at him and stop reading. Damn it, you were at a really good part too.

“You’re the Beta that my sister wants to hang out with.” You gulp and nod in confirmation. “She’s avoiding me and was trying to find you earlier.”

“Did she eat yet?” You ask, worry settling in your stomach. Where is she? He sighs and settles in besides you.

“I don’t know.” You stand and get your bag. You stand and jump down from the bleachers. “Where are you-“

“I’ll find her!” You shout and run away from him. What the hell was she thinking?

It took at least 15 minutes but you found her reading on a secluded bench. You sigh as you approach her.

“Why are you so stubborn?” You ask and she closes her book.

“I’m not stubborn, I just don’t want to be with Pietro and his new friends.” She looks at you and your ragged appearance. Did you come looking for her? She smiles at the thought of you running around everywhere just for her.

“Aren’t they your friends too?”

“No. Not when they judge someone based on their second gender.” You sigh and sit besides her. You hold out a sandwich. She smiles then takes it. She takes a bite of it and beams. You get your book from your bag and read.

“We can hang out.” She turns to you with shining eyes. You sigh. “Only in places like this or the-“

“Library.” You both say and you hum. You notice that there were some sauce on the corner of her lips so you wipe it with your thumb. Wanda gulps as you lick it up. She blushes even more when you look at her.

“Stop being a messy eater.” You settle in the seat. Wanda just stares for a few more seconds before eating again.

You were in your last AP Class when Wanda texts you. You sigh in relief as you don’t hear your phone ping. Thank god, you remembered to turn it into silent mode earlier. You discreetly open it.

Wanda: I’m in the library, where are you?

You discreetly reply to her.

You: Still in class. Syl.

You hide your phone in your bag quickly when you saw the teacher glance at your direction.

“Miss Y/LN?” You answer the question of the teacher and she nods as you gave the correct one.

It took at least half an hour more before the class ended. You were packing up your things when someone hovers over you.

“So you really do take all of the AP Classes.” You look up and gulp. It was Angel. “You have more than me too.” You nod.

“I-I have to go.” You quickly leave and go to the library. You go to the table that you occupied yesterday and Wanda was there. She was reading again and you sit besides her.

“Hey.” She greets and you hum.

“What are you reading?”

“One of your recommendations from the bookmark.”

“Which one?”

“Digital Fortress.”

“Ah. Dan Brown.”

“Yeah. Most of his works are in here.”

“That’s because I got addicted to his works at one point.”

“So what’s your favorite genre?”

“Definitely mystery and thriller. I read most investigation cases.”

“True crime?”

“Yep. I love watching their documentaries too.” She smiles and you get a book from your backpack.

“How about you? What’s your favorite genre?”

“Definitely Sci-fi.”

“Ah. Then you’ve read The Giver?”

“Yeah. You have?”

“Yep.” Before you knew it, the two of you have a two-hour discussion on the book.

You were laughing with Wanda when you notice the clock on the wall and pale.

“Shit.” You quickly stuff your novel into your bag.

“What’s wrong?”

“Come on.” You both get outside and you sigh. “Mom is going to get angry if I’m late.”

“Oh. Okay. Sorr-“

“Don’t be, It was fun hanging out with you.” Wanda beams at that and you give her a smile. “Do you have any ride? Or should I walk you home?” Wanda crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at you.

“What? Because I’m an Omega?” You roll your eyes and huff.

“No. Because you’re my friend, you idiot. I worry if I leave you here alone and your house is too far away.”

“What if my house is close?” You smirk and turn away from her.

“Then I’ll be goi-“ She grabs your bag and pulls you. You turn to her with a smile and she flicks your forehead.

“Idiot.” You rub your forehead.

“So what is it?”

“I’m waiting for Pietro to finish his Track and Field training. He’s my ride.”

“Oh yeah. Your twin is an omega too, right?”

“Yep.”

“Any other siblings then?”

“No. Just us two.”

“How do you handle heats then?”

“Why?”

“Just curious. Both of my older sisters are Alphas and Mom always take care of Ma so I-“ You blush and look away. “I don’t know that much about Omegas.”

“Ah. We typically use a jacket of dad’s and drink suppressants.” You scrunch your face at that.

“How many times do you take it?”

“Typically, twice a day but if it gets bad then thrice, if it’s really bad we double the amount.”

“Damn, that’s a lot of chemicals in your body.” She shrugs.

“The price of a heat.”

“What about your scent?”

“My dad’s clothing.”

“Ah. That’s it?”

“Typically, yeah. Why?”

“Nothing. Just sometimes I can smell some Omegas that have heat even though they’re already wearing an Alpha’s clothing.”

“Whoa. Betas can’t usually smell them.” You shrug.

“Wanda!” Pietro calls out and you two turn at him.

“And that’s my cue.”

“See you again tomorrow?” You smile at her and nod.

“Send me a text again.” You wave her goodbye then leave.

When you get home, your mom is waiting with her arms crossed and you gave a nervous laugh.

“I’m home?”

“Where have you been? It’s-“

“Zale.” You Ma calls out and both you and your mom turns to her. “Don’t pressure Y/N.”

“I was hanging out with a friend and lost track of time. Sorry.”

“A friend?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Alright, then. Go get changed and come back in fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks, Ma.” You quickly go upstairs, and Dahlia sits beside Zale. They look at each other and sigh in relief.

“She’s making friends.”

“Thank god, I thought she would be a loner for all of her high school days.”

You sit down beside Zale and Dahlia gives you a plate of food.

“Thanks, Ma.” You smile at her and she gives you a pat on the head.

“So, who’s your friend?” Your mom asks after a few minutes and you stop. Dahlia hits Zale but Zale just shushes her.

“What?”

“You’re friend that you hung out with?”

“Ah. Her name’s Wanda. She’s new in town and a sophomore just like me.”

“That’s good, Y/N.” You nod and Zale pats your head.

“She sounds like a nice friend.” You grin at them.

“She is!”

You’ve been watching a docuseries again when your phone rings.

“Y/N?” You sit and furrow your brows.

“Val? Why are-“

“Can you come pick me up? Please?” You assure her that you will and you wear your jacket. You can’t help but worry, why was she there? What happened? Why did she want you to pick her up?

“Where are you?”

“Club Prestige.” The defeat in her voice only makes you quicken your actions.

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thank you.” You hang up and get your mom’s car keys. Both of your parents are watching a movie and looks at you. You inform them before leaving.

“I’m picking Val up.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I don’t know either. I’ll go to her.”

“Drive safely, Y/N, please.”

“Okay. Thanks!” You quickly go to the garage and open the gate. You get inside of your mom’s car and drive after the gate opens up. You got to Club Prestige in under 8 minutes.

“Val? Whe-“ You hear soft sobbing from an alley and see your sister sitting on the ground while hugging her knees. “Val?” She looks up to you and sniffles.

“Y/N?” You kneel besides her and nod.

“It’s me.” She hugs you and wails.

“S-she was kissing another girl, Y/N. I-I thought she wa-was my soulmate.” She stutters and you rub her back to comfort her.

You drive your sister back home after calming her down. Your parents, thankfully, have gone to bed already. And even though, you technically still have school tomorrow, you decide to stay up late to comfort Valerie.

“You want anything? Ice cream? Cake?”

“Oreos and strawberry ice cream? Do we have them?”

“I’ll look and even if we don’t I’ll bike to get some.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” You smirk at her. “You’re my sister, Val and I happen to take broken heart seriously.” She gives you a smile and a nod.

“Thank you.” You go to the refrigerator and sigh in relief. The two things she wanted are both there and while you really would ride your bike to get them, you preferred to just stay inside. You get them and two spoons. You give her them and get the remote.

“The Owl House?”

“Please.” She gives you a grateful smile then turns to the tv. You spend all night marathoning the series.

“Y/N.” Zale shakes you to no avail. Both you and Valerie slept on the living room. “Little one! You still have school in an hour.” That woke you up and you look around, confused at your surroundings. This isn’t your room.

“Honey, you’re in the living room. You slept here with Val.” Dahlia fixes Valerie’s position on the couch and you stretch your body.

“What time is it?”

“6 am.”

“Okay. I’ll take a shower then.” You get up and Dahlia goes to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Zale cleans up the mess that you and Valerie left on the coffee table.

“Morning, little one.” You give a kiss to Dahlia’s cheek as you move pass her and sit on the chair besides Zale. She gives you a plate of pancakes and you thank her before eating.

“Sis still isn’t awake?” You look at the living room and can faintly see her arm.

“Afraid not. She’s going to miss her classes.” You scrunch up your face.

“It’s Thursday, Ma, she doesn’t have classes today.” Your parents look at you and you raise an eyebrow at them. “Did you two forget?” They look away and blush while you smirk at them. Dahlia sits beside you and pat your head. You finish eating breakfast and get your jacket.

“Bye, Mom, Ma!”

“Bye, Y/N!” Your sister stirs but stay asleep. You leave your house and go to school.

You were getting books from your locker when a voice interrupts you.

“Whoa! You smell like an Alpha!” You glare at Jason, one of the Betas who are friendly with you and would sometimes talk to you. “Good for you, Y/LN!” Wanda frowns at that. You really do smell like an Alpha. You did spend the whole night wearing it while you were with Valerie.

“Asshole. It’s my sister’s scent.” You close your locker and Wanda sighs in relief at your words.

“But we don’t get heats?”

“So? Can’t I spend time with my sister without it being her protecting my scent?” Jason holds up his hands in surrender and you roll your eyes. You get to your first class.

Lunch rolls around and you buy some breads and a couple of juices before going into the courtyard. You head to the secluded bench and she was there reading.

“Have you eaten yet?” Wanda looks at you and smiles. She shakes her head and you sigh. You give her half of the things you bought. She thanks you and she puts her book in her bag before getting her wallet.

“How much do I owe you?” You raise an eyebrow as you open up the bread you bought.

“For what?”

“Lunch?” You give her a flick to the forehead and sigh. She rubs the spot you flicked before hiding her wallet.

“Nothing. Go buy tomorrow.”

“And you’ll wait here?” She asks with shining eyes and you sigh.

“Yes.” You eat with her and she smiles.

Classes pass by and you meet Wanda again in the library.

“Hey.” You greet as you sit on the chair besides her. She looks at you and catches your sister’s scent… how long will it last?

“How long does an Alpha’s scent last?” She asks and you shrug.

“No idea but as long as someone’s scent isn’t too overbearing or too much then it can last long.” You see her look at your jacket. “Can you still smell my sis?”

“Yes. It’s faint now, unlike this morning.” You hum.

“Betas’ scents are like that. Not overbearing or too much.” She nods.

“I like yours much better though.” You gulp and blush at her words.

“What?”

“Your scent? It’s more calming and soothing to me.” You get even redder. Nobody has ever told you that. Hell, most Omegas and Alphas ignore you because your scent is just average. Nothing special like theirs. Wanda is the first one to ever compliment it.

“T-thanks.” She smiles as you clear your throat and read your book. You really are falling for her charms.

A/N:

Hell week is coming after me. Send help.

After I die from my finals maybe someone can summon my soul to hopefully finish this.

Jokes aside... I had another motivation to post this... since one of my favorite authors just followed me and... my heart died? I just really love their stories then they followed and I just.

Thank you, really.

#Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader #Omegaverse #Omegaverse fic #Marvel #Marvel Fanfic #Scarlet Witch x reader #Wanda x you #wanda x y/n

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reinerispretty · 4 years ago

Text

warm hands. (mako x f!reader) rewrite.

hello everyon!! a while ago i wrote a request called warm hands that got deleted by tumblr when i tried to edit the post on mobile :/ i’ve been on this hellsite for years and it still sucks but ANYWAY. as a thank you for supporting me and also as an apology for not updating lmao i wanted to repost a better version i wrote <3 much love to u and to mako

She turned to the man standing just a few feet away from her, surprised at how familiar his face had looked. His jet black hair, thick eyebrows, and golden eyes were from somewhere, but (Y/N) couldn’t place if she had dreamt about someone like him or had actually met him.

It would bug her the rest of the day if she didn’t say anything to him, so she had. “Excuse me,” She said, lightly touching his arm to get his attention. “Sorry to bother you, you just look really familiar to me.”

He had stared down at her silently, his brows furrowed, and in normal circumstances (Y/N) would have felt absolutely mortified...

There were dozens of libraries within Republic City, yet so far none of them had what (Y/N) was looking for. She had spent her entire day off trekking through the busy streets and bustling sidewalks, hailing cab after cab until her resources ran just low enough where she would have to be very picky about what groceries she picked this week. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck as she walked toward her destination. Summer was in full swing and it felt like the sun was after her specifically. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. So far, she had visited fifteen libraries, and was walking up the steps of the very last, hoping that someone inside would be able to help her with her request.

She passed through the double doors and was met with a rush of cold air that sent a chill down her spine. She must look ridiculous, she thought, as she approached the information desk. An old woman was positioned behind it, her back hunched over a book. She hadn’t heard (Y/N) approach, so the young girl rang the bell that set on the counter. The old woman jumped back, a startled expression on her lined face.

“I’m sorry!” (Y/N) exclaimed, then clasped a hand over her mouth. This was a library, she had to watch her volume in here. “Sorry,” She said again, her voice lower. “I was wondering if you could help me with something? I’ve been looking all over town for books on firebending and I can’t seem to find any.”

“We’ve got some!” The woman chirped, seeming to have recovered from her startle. She rose slowly to her feet and grabbed her cane. “Although they’re not technique books, if that’s what you’re looking for. My grandson has a great firebending academy just down the street if you’re interested.”

“Oh, no,” (Y/N) said as she followed the old woman through the enormous stacks of bookcases. “I don’t need any training, I’m just looking for a fact book or something like it.” The woman nodded and silently led (Y/N) to a very dimly lit section of the library. Just as (Y/N’s) feet began to ache from walking, they stopped, and the librarian pointed her cane up at the top shelf. It was out of her reach, but just within (Y/N’s).

“That’s the one you’re looking for,” She said, smiling pleasantly. (Y/N) looked up and found an enormous book, bound in red cloth with the Fire Nation emblem on the side. She reached up and took it into her arms, nearly toppling over at its sheer weight.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) strained herself to say. The librarian nodded once more before disappearing into the stacks of books. (Y/N) waddled herself over to a table in a more well-lit section of the library and sat down.

She had never cared much for bending. Being a nonbender herself in a nonbending family, she had watched indifferently as some of her classmates developed their bending skills. (Y/N) was always able to get through life without bending, so she had never thought of it as something important. Even probending, which rocked the city with its competitions, had never interested her.

(Y/N) sighed as she turned to the first page. To think, she was going to all of this trouble for a boy.

(Y/N’s) older brother had known Mako first, when they were just kids. Both worked for the Triple Threat Triads for a number of years. (Y/N) had remembered Mako as the serious (and slightly intimidating) friend of her brother’s that would stand outside waiting while her brother tried to convince her to cover for him. He might not have been a bender, but he was as strong as a platybus bear for a boy of fifteen, so the Triads made great use of him. (Y/N) had never liked it, but she always lied to their parents on his behalf. Sometimes, she had glared down at Mako from her bedroom window, and it seemed like some nights he frowned right back up at her.

This was all years ago, of course. Once her brother went off to join the United Forces, (Y/N) had forgotten all about Mako. It wasn’t until this past spring that she had seen him again. They had been waiting for their food outside of a soup shop. It had been the lunch hour, so (Y/N) had known they would take a while, but she didn’t mind, because she liked to people watch in order to keep herself occupied. She turned to the man standing just a few feet away from her, surprised at how familiar his face had looked. His jet black hair, thick eyebrows, and golden eyes were from somewhere, but (Y/N) couldn’t place if she had dreamt about someone like him or had actually met him.

He had stared down at her silently, his brows furrowed, and in normal circumstances (Y/N) would have felt absolutely mortified to be having this exchange with a total stranger, but something about him was different. She felt calm around him.

“I know you from somewhere, too,” The man said then, a small smile appearing on his face. “Did your brother used to work for-“

“The Triads!” (Y/N) finished, whispering the words excitedly because you couldn’t just shout the name of one of the leading gangs in Republic City in a crowd full of people. “You’re…Mako, right?”

“You must have a great memory, it’s been years since I’ve waited outside your house for your brother to come down.” (Y/N) laughed. “If I remember correctly, you used to give me the evil eyes from your bedroom window.” She smiled.

“That was me!” She extended her hand. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Same here,” Mako said, shaking her hand. “How’s your brother doing?”

“Very well, I think! He’s with the United Forces now, so I don’t hear much from him, but his last letter sounded very promising.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“How are you doing? I’ll have to write to him about you, I’m sure he’ll be so excited to hear it.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Joined the Republic City Police, so I guess I’m arresting the people I used to work with.” He shrugged.

“Beats getting arrested,” (Y/N) offered, and Mako cracked a smile.

“It sure does.” Her order was called from the counter, and (Y/N) scurried over to pick it up. When she returned, Mako had his own food in hand.

“Before you go,” (Y/N) started, and it was like the words would come out of her mouth before she had the chance to stop them. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me sometime? I’d love to give my brother a detailed description of what you’ve been up to.” She was never this bold, but it was like something else entirely had overcome her. He was handsome, and it was just a cup of coffee. Nothing too scary.

Mako had agreed to the cup of coffee that week and one cup had turned into three before turning into dinner. It had been nearly eight months since they met and the majority of their free time away from their jobs was spent together. Things were surprisingly easy with Mako. He was a fantastic listener and offered her the advice that she needed to hear. He had a bit of a rough shell on the outside, but (Y/N) worked tirelessly to break through it and revealed a man capable of so much love that she came to learn very few had ever actually given him it in return.

She was always completely lost when he talked about his probending days, but she enjoyed hearing him talk about his youth so much that it had set her on a course of research. (Y/N) was at the library today to better understand firebending. It was part of Mako, and she loved Mako (even if she hadn’t admitted it), so she would learn to love firebending as well.

She read for hours, until the sun had set outside and lanterns were lit within the space. (Y/N) looked up from her book, eyes heavy and dry from reading so many pages. She had only made it about halfway through the book, so she checked out the heavy title from the librarian at the front and made her way home. Mako would be working the night shift that night, so she didn’t have to worry about any interruptions.

---

Mako wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into his girlfriend. (Y/N) couldn’t bend. Not that there was anything wrong with that of course, Mako respected nonbenders just as much as benders (except for, y’know, the Amon thing), but lately (Y/N) had become a walking fountain of knowledge on firebending. At first he hadn’t thought anything of it, but as it continued on he started to sense that something was up.

The first time it had happened was on one of Mako’s days off. He had slept in late even though (Y/N) had promised to wake him up. With disheveled hair and his eyes squinting at the bright late morning light, he shuffled into the kitchen to give his girlfriend a very soft piece of his mind. She was scrambling eggs in front of the stove, turning to look back at him with a smile brighter than the sun. Mako allowed himself a smirk before his face turned stern.

“You were supposed to wake me up,” He had said, his voice gruff from having not been used. (Y/N) shrugged.

“I don’t think an earthquake could’ve woken you up,” She said in her defense. “Plus, you deserve extra sleep.” She had poked him in the stomach. “Firebenders can’t firebend if they’re exhausted.” Mako had chuckled. It sounded like the sort of thing mothers told their children in order to get them to go to bed.

But a few days later, she had mentioned something similar. They had been walking down the streets of Republic City, on their way to go visit Korra and Asami for lunch, when (Y/N) stopped suddenly in front of a store display. Mako jerked backward, unaware that she had paused.

“Do you know what that is?” She asked, looking up at him with an expression that indicated that she was testing him. Mako stared at the storefront.

“A clearance sign?” He questioned. (Y/N) had rolled her eyes.

“Not that,” She sighed, and pointed her finger at the tapestry that was hung in the back of the store. How she had spotted that from the corner of her eye, Mako had no idea, so he shrugged. “It’s the symbol of the Sun Warriors,” She explained. “They were the first firebenders, after the dragons, of course. They’re extinct now, I think.” (Y/N) smiled up at him while he raised an eyebrow at her. He cracked a smile before tugging at her hand.

“I’m about to go extinct if we don’t get some lunch.”

The biggest indicator by far had been the other night, when he was getting ready to leave for work. (Y/N) had sat on the bed as he stood in front of the mirror and buttoned up his uniform. He kept spares at (Y/N’s) place now, since he spent nearly every night there anyway.

She was looking at him with an expression he had never seen before. It was like she was analyzing him. Mako turned around as he finished the last button, but before he could speak, she beat him to it.

“How do you do it?” She asked, and Mako furrowed his dark brows.

“Do what?”

“Bending.” She looked into his eyes at this point and Mako had felt his heart swell. He had a hard time transmitting the emotions that he was feeling inside to his appearance outside. If he could, he would have melted into a puddle on the floor for this girl. In a matter of a few months she had become something to aim toward, to strive for. Catching criminals and solving cases mattered to him, but not nearly as much as returning to her apartment in one piece.

He cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t understand it, you know? How does it happen? Do you just think about it and it happens? Or do you have to focus?”

“A bit of both, I guess,” Mako said. “When you’re first learning, it takes a lot of focus to master a new move. But once you’ve got it, it kind of becomes second nature.” He sat on the bed beside her to put on his work boots. “It’s like writing something. When you were little, you had to think about how to hold the pen, how to form the letters, what the letters meant. Now you just know.”

“Do you have to think about using lightning rather than fire?” Mako shook his head.

“It’s different movements.” She hummed, staring down at her hands as she contemplated what he just told her. Mako checked his watch for the time. “I’ve got to head out.”

“Okay,” She said as she turned toward him. “Be safe! And don’t forget to invite Bolin over for dinner this weekend.”

Mako let out an exaggerated sigh, at which (Y/N) frowned. “I’m serious Mako,” She continued. “I’ll call Bolin myself to make sure you ask him!”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Mako asked as he packed his badge and wallet.

“It’ll mean more if it’s coming from his big brother.” Mako leaned down and cradled the back of her neck with his hand, leaning for a kiss to which she happily obliged. Mako had many favorite things about (Y/N), but perhaps his most favorite was how she smiled into every kiss he gave her.

“I’ll be sure to let him know,” Mako had said as he ran out of her apartment. If he was late again, Chief Beifong would kill him.

Mako contemplated these instances as he walked back to her apartment. (Y/N) had never expressed very much interest in bending, pardoning recent weeks. He wondered what had gotten her so curious. Perhaps she listened to a new radio show that talked about it. Mako never really listened to the radio anymore—he used to, but Bolin talked over all of the stations so he just turned it off whenever he was in the car.

He hadn’t told her that he would be coming back to her place tonight. He hadn’t entirely been planning on it, but one of the rookies was somehow put in charge of the schedule and put Mako and a kid named Lee on the same shift. Considering Mako had the seniority, he had gotten the night off, but not before completing the copious amounts of paperwork that had piled on his desk. It was nearing one in the morning, so (Y/N) would be fast asleep, but he figured she would enjoy seeing him again. Or at least, he hoped so.

To improve his chances of not facing the wrath of disturbing her slumber, Mako stopped by a late night dessert shop and picked up some of her favorites before returning on his way. When he finally opened the door to her apartment, Mako was unsurprised to find that every light was off, save for the light that peaked underneath her bedroom door.

Mako took his shoes off at the front and dropped the desserts on the kitchen counter before quietly making his way to her bedroom. (Y/N) lay curled up underneath her covers, fast asleep, with the biggest book Mako had ever seen lying beside her. He lifted the heavy book into his arms and thumbed through the pages. Each and every chapter was about firebending. Its origins, its practices, and its faults. Mako smiled to himself. So that’s how she had become a walking encyclopedia.

He changed into his pajamas and slid into bed beside her. Startled, she opened her tired eyes and furrowed her brows at him. “Chief let me go early,” He whispered to her, reaching over her body to turn off her lamp. “Go back to sleep.”

Instead she moved closer to his body and took his hands in hers. “I was reading,” She whispered slowly, as if her brain was cranking back to life. “That firebenders can control the heat in their bodies.” She placed his hands just below her bellybutton. “My cramps are really bad tonight, can you—”

Mako pulled her into his body and kissed her shoulder, spreading his hand wide so that it would cover as much surface area as possible. She hummed as she felt the warmth emanating from his hands. “Thank you.” After a few minutes, her even breathes indicated that she was asleep.

Mako wondered then if he had been the reason that (Y/N) had a newfound fascination with firebending. While he was a great detective, he was absolutely clueless. She had gotten a whole book about firebending, had shared her knowledge to let him know that she cared about something that she had never cared about before. Mako pressed his face into the crook of his neck to hide the wide smile that no one would see.

(Y/N) wanted to know more about firebending because it was part of who he was. No one had ever taken such an interest in Mako’s passions. He had figured before, but was now certain, that he loved the girl in his arms so, so dearly.

---

TAG LIST

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#mako x reader #lok #legend of korra #korra x reader #asami x reader #bolin x reader #bolin #mako #korra #asami #writing #fanfiction

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years ago

Text

Cupid

MASTERLIST

This was requested by @sundippedprincess I’m pretty sure! Oh man, don’t we all love some daddy Spencer? I couldn’t resist writing this cute little fluff piece. Hope it’s a good start to all of you guys’ Mondays. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 4,773

For as long as you could remember, you wanted to be a teacher.

Apparently, after coming home from your first day in kindergarten, you had announced to your parents that you wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Twenty years later, you were living your dream.

Your kindergarten kids were your whole life. You always loved seeing them, watching them grow and learn. You typically dreaded summer vacation because you missed your kids and teaching so much, despite the few months of break.

This was only your second year of teaching, but you were enjoying it just as much as your first. It was tough saying goodbye to the first group of students, but it made it worth it when you saw them in the school halls and some still ran up to greet you.

School had just let out for another day and you already missed the bright young minds of your students. You were cleaning up your classroom before working on some grading when you heard a small voice coming from your doorway.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned and saw a little girl with light brown curls and a turquoise blue backpack standing in your doorway, looking hesitant. She was one of your best behaved students, Ayla Reid.

“Ayla! Did you forget something?”

She shook her head, her ponytail bouncing with the movement.

“My daddy is late and they told me at the office to come stay with you instead of waiting outside by myself. Is that okay?”

She was the sweetest little girl. She was a bright little girl as well, having no trouble with soaking up new knowledge like her brain was a tiny sponge. She was always kind and helpful when it came to other classmates, but she never hesitated to speak her mind. All in all, she was an outgoing, bubbly little girl with a heart of gold.

“Of course, sweetie. Come on in.”

You took the chair to her desk off the top of it, setting it back on the floor so she could sit in her usual place.

You peeked over your shoulder as you headed to your arts and crafts station to see her settling in to her normal desk. You grabbed some paper and crayons and walked back to her with them in hand.

“Would you like to color while you wait?”

She nodded, smiling big.

“I love to color!”

You laughed, knowing that all too well. It was one of her favorite activities when doing schoolwork.

“Is your daddy always late when picking you up?” you asked, sitting back down behind your desk.

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s just a few minutes, but he’s never been this late,” she answered.

She’d already opened the box of crayons and was starting to draw before you’d even asked your question.

You glanced at the clock in your room to see it was nearing 3:15. School let out at 2:30–Ayla’s father was nearly an hour late.

“This doesn’t happen all the time,” she said, “‘Cause sometimes my mommy picks me up.”

You understood that. Plenty of your students had parents who worked full time and was occasionally late to pick them up.

She said nothing else as she was busy with her picture, so you started sorting through the turned in work for the week so far. You would have to log in grades and update the grades later on so it was just easier to get through this first step now.

“My daddy works a lot,” Ayla said out of the blue.

You looked up, smiling, seeing her still hard at work with her crayons.

“What does he do?” you asked, interested.

“He’s a pwofiler. I’m not quite sure what that means but he works in the FBI. That’s like the police but more important.”

You chuckled. She wasn’t one to miss much. When you’d said she was incredibly smart, you hadn’t been exaggerating.

“That sounds like a very interesting job. I’m sure you’re incredibly proud of him, Ayla,” you said.

“Mhm,” she nodded big, looking up from her picture, “He’s very smart too. He’s got a robotic memory!”

You raised a brow, not quite sure what she meant, but laughed anyway.

“Is that so? That’s impressive.”

“He a docta. But not like the ones you go to when you’re sick.”

She went back to the picture and you watched her for a moment, amused. There was so much energy and spunk in this little girl. You wouldn’t doubt for one minute that her parents had their hands full with her.

“Can I show you my picture?” she asked.

“Of course, let me see.”

You stood up, walking over to her desk, crouching to her level.

On it, there were several stick figures.

“Oh that’s beautiful,” you grinned, “Are these your friends?”

“No, these my aunties and uncles at the BAU. That’s where my daddy works.”

“I see,” you said, listening intently.

“This my daddy,” she pointed to the tallest of the group.

“This is auntie Emily, auntie JJ, auntie Penelope and auntie Tara.”

She smiled proudly as pointed at the obvious female stick figures.

“And what about these three?” you asked, motioning to a group of men.

“That is uncle Luke, uncle Dave and uncle Matt. The two on that side are uncle Hotch and uncle Derek. They don’t work with my daddy anymore but they still my uncles.”

“Wow, you’ve got a lot of extended family, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she beamed.

“Ayla, honey, I’m so sorry.”

You stood up from where you were crouching next to Ayla to see a quite tall man walking into your classroom, a tan, leather satchel slung over his body.

“Daddy!” Ayla squealed, jumping out of her seat, running towards him.

She collided into his legs, hugging him and he picked her up with a big smile on his face, kissing her cheek.

You took the moment to get a better look at him, now that he was closer.

He was undeniably attractive, but didn’t seem to be the type that flaunted his looks either. His light brown hair was as curly as his daughter’s and looked to be in a bit of disarray, part of it falling over his forehead while other curls fell in numerous directions.

He was outfitted in a work suit, a tie and sweater underneath his suit jacket. He pulled it off very well.

His eyes gleamed as he looked at his daughter and she kissed his stubbled cheek. You didn’t fail to notice his sharp jawline or his easy, bright smile either.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he apologized, whether to Ayla or you, you weren’t entirely sure.

“It’s okay daddy. I like Miss Y/L/N. She’s pretty like a princess.”

You sucked in a breath in surprise, touched by her words. You couldn’t help when your eyes immediately teared up. It was such a sweet and sincere thing for Ayla to say and knowing kids were brutally honest, you knew she meant every word of it.

You cleared your throat, composing yourself when you noticed Ayla’s father watching you, eyes squinting in concentration.

He probably thinks you’re a blubbering fool, you thought.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Reid,” you extended your hand.

“It’s docta Reid,” Ayla corrected you, emphatically.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry. Dr. Reid.”

He chuckled, setting Ayla back down and telling her to get her things together.

“It’s no big deal,” he said, shaking your hand.

You tried not to focus on the fact his hand was so large in yours as you quickly pulled back, silencing any further thoughts.

“I told Miss Y/L/N how you’re a pwofiler and have a robotic memory!” Ayla exclaimed, as she cleaned up her desk, putting her picture in her backpack.

“Uh, it’s actually eidetic,” he said, flushing a bit.

“I couldn’t remember what it was called so I just went with robotic,” Ayla shrugged.

You both chuckled at her response, before turning back to each other.

“I was wondering how smart you must be to have a robotic memory,” you smiled.

“Well she was kinda close,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair, “Eidetic is just another term for photographic memory.”

“Oh wow,” you said, surprised, “That’s impressive. No wonder you have such a brilliant daughter.”

He smiled appreciatively and said his thanks before speaking again.

“I don’t remember seeing you at the Kindergarten registration a few months ago.”

“Oh, unfortunately I wasn’t able to attend as I was sick. My teacher’s assistant Mrs. Lamb stepped in for me. Apparently she was a big hit though because she got all the kids to believe she was from Old MacDonald's Farm!”

You cringed inwardly at your spiel. You were used to talking to five year olds and other teachers, definitely not attractive dads, let alone men in general.

You chided yourself again. He was probably married anyway and you had little business drooling over a student’s father.

His smile was on full display though as he laughed at your statement.

“Come on Ayla, we need to get going. I have to head back to work for a little while but you can hang out with auntie Penelope okay?”

“Okay!” she grinned, putting on her backpack and taking his hand.

They were just leaving when something made you stop them.

“Um, Dr. Reid?”

He paused, turning back to you.

“Yes?”

“If you ever find yourself running late to pick Ayla up, I’d be happy to let her stay in my classroom until you get here.”

You’re not sure why you offered. Well for one, you really did like Ayla, she was such a sweet girl. But you tried to convince yourself that it was just a nice gesture to hopefully make things a bit easier on him. You knew sometimes your parents struggled with finding someone to pick up their child from school on time.

It wasn’t because you hoped to see him again. Definitely not.

“Oh you don’t have to. I can try to get away earlier when possible,” he protested.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured, “I’d love the company. Besides, she’s such a joy to have.”

He seemed to take a moment to think it over before nodding.

“I just may take you up on that.”

•

“Daddy, what does pwofiling mean?”

Spencer had just lifted Ayla into the car and placed her into her booster seat, where she was currently buckling the seatbelt to it.

“Well,” he paused, intrigued at what could have brought on her sudden question, “It’s just studying a person’s behavior. For example, I can recognize how you behave guiltily when you eat the last cookie in the cookie jar.”

Ayla grinned big, not in the least bit ashamed.

“But you do that with bad guys right?”

“That’s correct, baby,” he smiled, kissing her forehead.

He closed the back door and walked around to the driver’s side door, sliding in. He had just gotten his own seatbelt clicked into place when she spoke again.

“Daddy, I pwofiled you.”

“Did you now?” he chuckled, amused at his little girl’s comment.

“Yes,” she nodded, “You like Miss Y/L/N.”

“Well of course I do, she’s your teacher and she’s very nice.”

“No, I mean you like like her,” she emphasized.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“Because you’re smiling all goofy,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You only smile like that when you talk about things you know about.”

He felt himself flush a little bit. It was true, he hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d left Ayla’s classroom. There was something refreshing about her teacher and he would have to be blind to not admit she was indeed as Ayla had said, very pretty.

“Are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?” Ayla asked as he drove out of the school parking lot.

He chuckled at her brazenness.

“Honey, I don’t even know her. Besides, I’m too busy to date.”

“I’m busy too but I have a boyfriend.”

“You do?” Spencer asked, trying his best to hide his surprise.

“Of course, daddy,” she rolled her eyes, exasperated, like she was a teenager already, “I’m busy and don’t always get to see Michael but he my boyfriend.”

Spencer smiled to himself. Michael LaMontagne was his best friend JJ’s and her husband Will’s youngest son. He was a little over two years older than Ayla, but she always proclaimed that Michael was her boyfriend. The two got along extremely well and it was incredibly adorable.

He decided not to comment any further on it though because he knew she wouldn’t give up on it easily.

“Baby, you know what days daddy picks you up, right?”

“Yup. Mondays and Fridays.”

“Good. Since I never know when I might be running late, will you ask Miss Y/L/N if you could stay with her until I get there?

“Okay daddy.”

She turned to the window, watching the passing landscape, her previous conversation apparently finished.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ayla’s teacher again.

•

Ayla rushed out of the elevator when the doors opened on the floor the BAU was located on.

“There’s my favorite girl!”

Penelope has been waiting for them, excited to spend time with her goddaughter. As she was her only goddaughter, Ayla definitely got a bit spoiled.

“Auntie Penelope!” Ayla squealed, running into Garcia’s arms.

“How was your day at school, pumpkin?” she asked.

“Good,” Ayla beamed.

“Must’ve been, your daddy is 15 minutes late getting back,” Garcia said, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Uh, traffic,” Spencer said.

“No,” Ayla shook her head, looking up at Spencer, “You were busy smiling at Miss Y/L/N.”

“Miss Y/L/N?” Garcia questioned, her interest piqued.

“She’s my teacher,” Ayla explained, “And she’s really pretty, auntie Penelope. Like a princess!”

“Like a princess, huh?”

Garcia was now eyeing Spencer hardcore with a knowing grin. Spencer knew she would be all over this with a million questions before long.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go hang out with auntie Penelope now while daddy finishes up his work?”

“Alright. Come on auntie Penelope! I wanna show you the picture I drew!”

Ayla grabbed her hand, practically dragging Garcia towards her lair.

Garcia looked over her shoulder pointing a finger at him.

“Don’t think you’ve escaped my questions! We’re talking about this later!”

Spencer knew good and well they would be.

“So, a pretty kindergarten teacher, huh?”

Spencer startled, seeing Luke standing in the doorway of the BAU, his back against the glass door, holding it open. In his hand was a plastic cup of coffee that he was drinking. He’d obviously been here longer than Spencer had realized and had heard everything.

“Don’t you start too,” he grumbled.

“Hey, I’m just curious!” Luke protested, following Spencer in as he walked into the unit, “How pretty is she?”

“Very,” Spencer mumbled to himself.

Getting her out of his head would be the best thing to do, although maybe not the easiest.

•

It was the third time that you were keeping Ayla in your classroom after school until Dr. Reid could pick her up.

You found yourself counting down the hours every Monday and Friday, waiting to see his bright and smiling face.

You couldn’t believe you were looking forward to a maybe five minute encounter out of your entire day, but here you were.

“Miss Y/L/N?” you heard Ayla call from her desk.

“Yes?”

You looked up from the learning packets you were stapling together for the new week.

“Is it okay if I feed Freddy?”

Freddy was the class pet, a neon tetra fish. He was a simple fish, one that was easy for new fish owners, from what you’d researched before getting him.

He was small, but feisty. His coloring really took you by surprise when you first got him. With colors of bright red and green, red towards the end of his body and a lime green towards his front with a turquoise blue duochrome look to him, he always looked festive and bright.

He had an automatic fish feeder, but every once in a while you let one of your students throw a small amount in for him as an extra treat.

“Of course,” you smiled, getting up to help her.

You walked over to the fish tank and grabbed the fish food, opening it for her.

“Now, just get a tiny little pinch, okay?”

She nodded and did what she was told, her face serious as she concentrated on what she was doing.

Stepping up on the stool you left in front of the tank—for the small kids purposes—she sprinkled the food into the water. Freddy immediately devoured it.

“I think he liked it,” she smiled, watching him through the glass.

“I think he did too,” you agreed.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You turned, seeing Dr. Reid walk in, a smile on his face.

Your stomach fluttered, seeing him again for the first time in days.

“I fed Freddy, daddy!” Ayla grinned big, running to give him a hug.

“Did you now? That’s a very big girl task! I’m proud of you! High five!”

He was crouched in front of her, hugging her but then he pulled out of her embrace and held up his hand, which she high fived.

“It’s time to get your things kiddo, we’re having your favorite for dinner tonight,” he said.

“Chicken nuggets with sweet potato fries?”

“You guessed it! Now go,” he shooed her towards her desk.

You smiled, watching them. He stood back up, facing you with a small smile.

“I hope she wasn’t any trouble.”

“Not at all. She’s an angel. She’s probably one of my best behaved students,” you said.

“Now that’s surprising,” he chuckled.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Ayla called, coming back over with her backpack on her back, “You should come to dinner tomorrow night.”

“I-” you began, in attempt to politely turn her down, when Dr. Reid spoke before you.

“Bunny, you’re going to be at your mom’s tomorrow night,” he said.

Ayla’s reply was simple and to the point.

“I know.”

You felt your eyes widen and your face heat when you realized her insinuation. Dr. Reid looked just as flustered and thrown as you felt.

“Ayla, honey, you know daddy has to work tomorrow. Remember I told you I had to work late?” Spencer stammered, trying to say the entirety of the few sentences.

At that point, you just wished for a hole to open up in your classroom floor and swallow you. If it wasn’t awkward enough that one of your students had basically just asked you out for her own father, then it was definitely the fact that he was trying to backpedal on the “invite” and most likely because he had no interest in you, not that you could blame him.

“Daddy, you told me it’s wrong to tell a lie,” Ayla gave him a look.

You were sure at this point Dr. Reid had turned scarlet from his face all the way down his neck. You felt bad for him, but still felt the awkwardness of the situation.

“You said that when I was at mommy’s house last week. You said this week you wouldn’t have to work late.”

Somehow, this behavior from Ayla didn’t surprise you in the slightest. When she was set on something, she was determined to accomplish it.

He looked up at you, clearly uncomfortable but you spoke before he could, trying to salvage the situation.

“Don’t worry,” you chuckled, “Kids will be kids. Believe me, I know. I have 28 of them for 8 hours, 5 days a week.”

His smile eased a bit and you felt yourself relax a tiny amount.

“I hope you have a good weekend Ayla and I’ll see you Monday,” you said.

You couldn’t help but notice her pouty expression as Dr. Reid took her hand and left your classroom.

You almost had to breathe a sigh of relief after living through that awkward moment.

You had just sat down behind your desk and resumed stapling papers together when you heard your name being called.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You glanced up, seeing Dr. Reid in the doorway sans Ayla.

“Yes? Did Ayla forget something?”

You stood, ready to head towards her desk to check for a missing folder or a favorite toy.

“Actually, no, I did.”

You gave him a confused look before he began to explain.

“I was- uh I was actually wondering if maybe you’d like to get coffee sometime? With me? Or maybe ice cream or something considering it’s still pretty hot? Hot outside I mean.”

Your stomach quite literally did a flip flop at his cute, nervous, rambling.

Here was a grown man, who worked in the FBI, had a child and could probably rival a Bachelor contestant, yet he managed to adorably stumble over his words as he asked you out.

“Well, I practically live off coffee because of my job,” you said.

“So do I,” he grinned, a small, new found connection between the two of you, discovered.

“But ice cream sounds nice,” you smiled, “Whenever you’re free that is.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow sounds fine,” you concluded, “Hold on.”

You turned to grab a sticky note from your desk, jotting something down quickly.

“My number,” you smiled, handing it to him, “Just let me know what time.”

“It’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” you confirmed.

“Oh and for future reference, I’m Spencer.”

“Y/N,” you grinned.

With a smile on his own face, he walked back out of your classroom, presumably to an awaiting Ayla.

You had to hold back your laughter when you heard her next statement all the way from the hallway, clear as day.

“I think I know now why uncle Morgan used to say you got no game.”

•

It was roughly 2 pm the next afternoon as you stood outside the ice cream parlor that was near the elementary school.

You fidgeted in place nervously, wondering if he was going to show.

His actual asking you on a date was so sudden and abrupt, you’d hardly had time to wrap your head around it.

With one glance down at your outfit, you tried hard not to criticize yourself. You’d changed about six times before finally deciding on a simple, cute, sleeveless sundress in an aqua turquoise color. It would be cool, cute, casual and not trying too hard.

“You look nice and cool.”

You turned to see Spencer approaching you and you smiled, relieved that he actually showed up and it wasn’t just a dream.

“Hot enough for you?” you chuckled.

“Too hot,” he agreed, “Shall we?”

He motioned after him and you walked into the wonderful chilly air of the ice cream parlor. He even held the door open for you; this man was already amazing.

There was only polite small talk while you both ordered; mint chocolate chip in a cone for him, vanilla in a cup with numerous toppings for you.

“Vanilla?” he raised an eyebrow at your choice.

“Only if I’m in the mood for a lot of toppings,” you elaborated.

You’d ordered your ice cream with Oreo pieces, rainbow sprinkles and chopped nuts.

When you both retrieved your orders from the counter, he peeked over at yours.

“There any ice cream under there?” he teased.

“Hush,” you chuckled.

You found a shaded table outside to sit at. Despite the heat, a small breeze occasionally cooled the temperature, making it a bit more bearable.

“So, Y/N.”

“That’s my name,” you smiled.

It was amazing how up until this point, you’d been so nervous for this date, but sitting in front of him, you were much more comfortable.

He took another lick from his cone, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Why teaching?”

You raised a brow, figuring you’d get in a question of your own too.

“Why the FBI?” you inquired.

He chuckled, appreciating your challenge.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine,” he said.

“Well—as the story goes, my parents claim—I came home from my first day of Kindergarten claiming I was going to be a teacher, specifically a kindergarten teacher. I don’t remember this at all,” you laughed, “But apparently it was kismet.”

He watched you intently as you talked, eating his ice cream silently as he hung on to your every word. It was surprising at how nice it made you feel to know he was interested in knowing about you.

“I joined the FBI when I was 22.”

“Wow, that’s really young and impressive,” you said, eyes wide.

“Well to preface this, I was somewhat of a childhood prodigy. I graduated high school at 12 and managed to earn three PhDs by 20, plus two BAs.”

You stared at him open mouthed, your spoon halfway to your mouth, the ice cream on it melting and dripping back into the cup.

He looked embarrassed and a bit uncomfortable. Something told you that while he was proud of his achievements, he wasn’t one that really enjoyed bragging about them.

“That explains the title of Doctor and the robotic memory.”

That seemed to break the spell and his face broke into a grin as he laughed easily at his daughter’s antics.

“That child, I swear. She’s something else.”

“She really is,” you agreed.

There was a lull in conversation and you decided to ask him about what you were wondering from the previous afternoon.

“So...you and your wife are separated or divorced I assume?”

“Oh me and Ayla’s mom have never been together actually.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to deal with divorced, separated or even single parents of your students, but to actually know the circumstances like this was unusual for you.

He nodded.

“I wasn’t in a place for a relationship and neither was her mother, so all we ever had was a physical relationship and Ayla was the result of that. We remained friends and co-parent now. She’s got a lovely fiancé now though that’s great with Ayla. But as messed up and impractical as that relationship was, I wouldn’t change it for anything though because it gave me Ayla and I’ve never regretted her for a moment,” Spencer said.

“She clearly adores you,” you smiled, “You’re a great father too.”

“Thank you,” he smiled shyly, “I try my best. But what about you, anyone special?”

He winced the moment the question left his mouth.

“Well if there was, I wouldn’t be here now would I?”

You could help but tease him, flashing him a joking expression.

“Point taken,” he laughed inwardly, “It didn’t dawn on me how obvious the question was until I said it. I’m sorry, I’m not really good at this dating thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve done it, actually.”

He looked pained, like a teenager on his first date, but you found it extremely endearing.

“Well I think you’re doing just fine,” you reassured him, “Also, no.”

His brow crinkled in confusion.

“No, what?”

“No, there’s no one special in my life. Unless you count 28 five year olds,” you snickered.

Sometime during the conversation, you’d both finished your ice cream. You tossed your trash and returned to the table.

“I’ve got a few hours before I have to pick up Ayla. Would you like to take a walk?” Spencer asked.

“Sure,” you agreed.

The two of you walked side by side, chatting it up about a variety of different things until his tinkering chuckle made you glance up at him, curious to what he found so funny.

“What is it?”

“It just struck me funny,” he said, pausing to look down at you.

You stopped with him, waiting for him to continue.

“Who would’ve thought my five year old daughter could be such an adorable yet successful pint sized Cupid?”

You had to agree as your face broke into your hundredth smile of that afternoon. She had been persistent and it seemed like her persistency had paid off.

He was right though, you’d never in a million years imagined one of your pupils playing matchmaker for you.

But you were glad Ayla had.

How thankful you were to have her in your class.

“She was right, you know,” Spencer said, more serious now.

“About what?”

“You are as pretty as a princess.”

As you two resumed your walking, the smile now permanently plastered on your face, you could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush yours ever so slightly.

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jenseits-der-sterne · 3 years ago

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Life Update #3

Hi friends :)

The summer has absolutely flown by and I find myself excited, because in two day we’ll close on our new house. We’ll start moving in in bits and I’m planning to take the week after Labor Day off. We’ve got movers scheduled for September 9th to move All the Things.

We’re in the middle of the process of selling our condo. If all goes well, that’ll be sold by September 24th 🤞

Over the last month I’ve read the entirety of “The Broken Earth” trilogy by N.K. Jemisin! I’d highly recommend it, it’s absolutely fascinating for how it uses 1st, 2nd, and 3rd person voice. I won’t describe that that means for the narrative in that series since that would be SPoILeRS, but if you’ve read it and want to rant about it with me, please feel free to DM me!

Reading a whole trilogy has felt like a major accomplishment because I feel like I’ve been SO BAD at reading over the course of the pandemic. So... this feels like a welcome change. I’m thinking of reading more of N.K. Jemisin’s work now :)

As for writing, two things:

I’ve written some small, but important portions of Before and After. One of these parts I really, really wanted to get right and I think I have ✨🌟✨ I wrote more tonight for the first time in like... a month, so that felt really good ❤😭 Honestly, I think reading “The Broken Earth” was invigorating because I’ve got my own switching between 1st and 2nd person POV happening in B&A, so I feel some affirmation that I’m on a good track with that.

I started a modern AU summer lake cabin story back in July because I’m crazy and apparently want more WIPs. But... idk, I didn’t get very far with that and I’ve decided to just let it be for now. I’ll come back to it when the inspiration strikes again.

Anyways, my relative inactivity is probably going to persist for a while yet. I know @drsteggy tagged me in a WIP Wednesday a couple weeks ago and I totally missed it until more recently. I’m sorry about dropping the ball on responding to that, I promise I’ll have some kind of WIP to share eventually <3

#personal #long post

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horansqueen · 4 years ago

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Stuck With You - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Cruel To Be Kind

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2 🡪chapter 3 🡪chapter 4 🡪chapter 5 🡪chapter 6 🡪chapter 7 🡪chapter 8 🡪chapter 9 🡪chapter 10 🡪chapter 11

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

Oh I can't take another heartache

Well I do my best to understand dear But you still mystify and I want to know why I pick myself up off the ground To have you knock me back down, again and again

click here to be on the update list

"Are you sure you can't do anything?" I asked with a begging voice and puppy eyes.

I knew it probably wouldn't change anything but I was ready to try anything to get an other room. I had waited over an hour to talk to someone who was in charge and then had to wait an other half hour to get an answer. Apparently, I was on a waiting list and they couldn't tell me when they would be able to assign me a new room on the girls' side. It all depended on when there would be a spot available, meaning that a girl had to move out, and obviously, they couldn't tell me when it would happen.

"I'm very sorry." the woman replied, making me sigh.

I could read in her face that she felt sorry for me, but she probably thought it was making me uncomfortable to be in the boys' building. If I wanted to be honest, I didn't really care if I was with boys or girls, I just wanted to be far from Niall. The longer I stayed near him, the more I realized that I actually liked him more than I should. I couldn't even think of what a whole year would do to my feelings.

"Alright, well thank you anyway." I replied, sending her a sad smile and turning around to leave.

It was horrible to think I was still stuck in the same room and I was pissed at myself for even mentioning it to Niall. He probably expected me to leave the room very soon and I was scared he'd be pissed at me for staying.

I walked out of the building as an other idea popped in my head and quickly, I took my phone out of my pocket. I started checking if there were rooms to rent off of campus but still close and I got very excited when I found a few. Unfortunately, they were expensive and I put my phone back in my pocket with a sigh after added them to my bookmarks. Perhaps, I could get myself a job to pay for a room, at least until a room in the girls' building would be available. The thought of moving out over and over made me grimace but at the same time, I knew it would help me not fall in love with Niall, and I was also well-aware of how bad he wanted me out.

I stopped in front of my room and stared at the door for a few minutes. The truth was, I was tired to fight with Niall but I knew it was inevitable. I knew that one of us would say something to annoy the other on purpose. We were both quite good at this game, and I was not in the mood for it. I was also a bit scared that I'd catch him naked on top of a girl again and although I knew it would probably help me with my goal of hating him, I also knew it would hurt me and I was even less in the mood for that. Slowly, I brought my hand to the knob but I felt my heartbeats accelerate and pressed my lips together before putting my palm on the door gently. I took a step closer, turning my head and trying to listen to what was happening on the other side. It seemed to be quiet and I breathed in before quickly turning the knob and walking in.

Niall was not there and the room was quiet. I blinked a few times and closed the door slowly as I was getting a notification. As I grabbed my phone, I realized how sweaty my hands were and how stressed this whole thing was making me.

'Dev, where are you?'

'Can I crash in your room tonight?' I just typed and sent, ignoring his question.

I watched the three dots move for a few seconds before I sighed of relief as I got his answer.

'Of course'

As Louis had mentioned to me, I was lucky that his roommate had recently got a girlfriend and was often gone a few nights in a row because we weren't sure if he would just accept to share the room with me. I had been crashing for two night already in his room, making sure that Niall was out whenever I needed to get something in our room.

When I received a text message in the morning, I groaned, a bit mad that I kept the sound of my phone on. I started late on wednesday's and I could really use more sleep. It was true that I spent my free time with Louis in his room, but most of the time, we were busy with studying and school projects. I was starting to think I was getting a bit on his nerves but I had a job interview in a few days and hopefully, I would get it and be able to rent a room. I hadn't talked to Louis about it because I knew he would try to talk me out of it and somehow, I knew he would succeed.

'7pm at the library'

I sighed when I read Daxia's message and closed my eyes again before sending her a thumb up and putting my phone away again. I lied down on my back, my head on Louis' pillow and I heard him groan next to me. Poor Louis, I was invading his room and invading his bed. It really was time I would give him his space back and find a new place to live.

"Sorry If I woke you up." I whispered, my eyes fluttering open.

"No, it's cool." he said in a husky voice. "Is everything okay?"

"Yea, It's just that project..." I shook my head a bit and shrugged. "I'm dreading this."

"No, you're stressed to see Niall again. You've been avoiding him for two days and knowing you, you'd keep doing it for months." he pointed out before clearing his throat. "This can't be mentally healthy, you know that, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Louis sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes before sending me an annoyed face. "Are you kiddin' me? Dev, trying to hate someone that you actually have feelings for is not a healthy way to deal with this."

"What's the right way? Letting him hurt me over and over again?" I frowned, sitting up slowly. "Anyway, it's just a few hours, I've got this."

Rolling his eyes, Louis got up and searched through his stuff for a towel. "Okay, do as you please." he let out, shrugging a shoulder, but I could read a bit of anger in his voice. "If it changes anything, he likes you too, and he's trying to fight it too. You two are oblivious. And obvious. Oh you know what? You're also both obnoxious!"

"Any other adjective that starts with an 'O'?" I asked a bit rudely, making him turn his head quickly in my direction.

"Yes! Obstinate! And... and... overbearing!" he continued a bit louder. "And obscene, but that's a different story."

My eyes got bigger and a smile drew itself on my lips, making him chuckle. I grabbed one of his pillow and threw it at him, making him laugh even more as he turned a shoulder to block it.

"Shut up!"

"Heyyy, be nice!" he joked, raising his nose up. "I'm letting you sleep in my room so you owe me!"

I knew he was joking but my amused smile turned into a fond one. "I know, thank you Louis. Thank you so much."

I walked to the library a few minutes late and immediately noticed Daxia, sitting at a table a bit further, her books spread on it as she scribbled something quickly. I walked up to her but it took her a few seconds to notice me and she just sent me a small smile as she gathered all her books.

"Good, you're finally here." she whispered, getting up. "Come on, I reserved us a room so we don't bother everyone and we can talk a bit louder."

I nodded and followed her for about half a minute but when I stepped foot in the room, my smile fell and my heart sank. Niall was already there, sitting at the table with Asher, and I had no idea that seeing him again would make my heart drop in my stomach. He looked up at me, the same damn lock of his hair falling on his forehead before he passed his hand in his hair, pushing it back. I held my breath when out eyes met until I realized Daxia took a seat next to Asher and I was the only left standing up. I cleared my throat and took the only seat left, which, of course, happened to be next to Niall.

After a bit more than two hours, we had managed to put both parts of the project together (the one Niall and I had worked on, and the one Asher and Daxia wrote), and we were working on a conclusion.

"Devon, you can not seriously tell me that Dali was the most important surrealist painter of all times!" Niall argued firmly with a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Without Breton, surrealism wouldn't even exist!"

"That is the most stupid thing I've heard today!" I let out, feeling slightly insulted.

"He's the founder of it all!" Niall continued, getting his back straight and frowning at me. "Argue with that!"

"He founded the movement!" I corrected him. "And being the first doesn't mean being the best!"

"This is ridiculous, you're delusional!"

"Now, that's an argument!" I replied with sarcasm. "And Dali was the only one who didn't need drugs to paint!"

"So he was insane even sober? Big deal!"

"SHUT. UP!"

Niall and I stopped immediately at Asher's voice but we kept looking at each other, and something in my stomach stirred. Despite the fact that I believed in what I was saying, I would normally have a calm conversation and probably even agree on some of the things he said. But it was Niall, and I had to do everything to hate him, right?

If I wanted to be honest, though, I had enjoyed our discussion and it would have been near perfection if we hadn't almost yelled at each other.

"You know what? I'll just finish the last few sentences by myself." Daxia proposed with a sigh before getting up. "I think we're all a bit tired."

Asher did the same and finally, Niall and I got up at the same time. We walked out of the library and when I heard my name, my heart skipped a beat. Why did it sound so special in his mouth?

"Need a ride?" he added after I turned to look at him.

The left corner of my lips raised up and I nodded once as we walked together to his car.

"Thank you." I told very low, glancing at him.

"No problem."

We remained silent until he parked his car and he finally turned to me, raising his eyebrows. "You know there's actually no proof that Dali didn't do drugs, right?"

"He used other methods." I shrugged.

"Doesn't mean he didn't also do drugs." he explained, making me tilt my head. "Besides, painters were the worst. They were always drunk or high, especially surrealist painters. You just like Dali's methods because they were... well, they were insane but unique."

I sent him a small smile and shrugged. "Maybe."

"Did you ever try?" he asked, raising his eyebrows with a smile. "Like, staying an hour on your head or, that spoon thing?"

This time, I chuckled and shook my head. "No, I don't work with dreams or images. I mostly work with my feelings."

"That's bold, don't you think? That means people can literally see your soul."

My heart skipped a beat and i lost my smile before swallowing hard. "You do it too with your music." I pointed out in a whisper. "People can hear your soul."

"Touché." he breathed out with a sad smile. "It's a big deal to share that with the world, isn't it?"

"Yes."

I leaned my head on the seat, my upper body turned his way, and when his eyes met mine, I remembered that time he drove Louis and I back to our room. I remembered the kiss and the way he was gentle and sweet. I wanted him to always be like that with me.

"Where were you for the past two nights?"

"I was not even sure you noticed I wasn't there." I chuckled.

"I did." he replied, glancing at his hands on the wheel before looking back at me. "I thought maybe you took a break and went to your parents' or something. I mean you were pretty pissed."

My smile vanished and this time, the image that came back in my head was Niall naked on top of a girl. I swallowed the lump in my throat and cleared it, looking away.

"I was not... I was not pissed." I just replied, a bit scared that he'd ask more about it. After all, I couldn't tell him I was jealous and hurt, right? "I was not very far, I was in Louis' room."

Silence. I finally looked up at him and his face had completely changed. He stopped the car and opened his door as I did the same and followed him.

"Good, well you should sleep there tonight too." he let out rudely, not looking at me.

"Why?"

"You said to tell you when I'd have a girl over?" he added, raising his eyebrows as we walked up the stairs. "Well there will be a girl over in our room tonight."

"Oh."

He unlocked the door and threw his keys on his bed, turning swiftly to me and crossing his arms on his chest. He looked mad and it hurt me more than I wanted to admit. That was exactly why I had to hate him, but it was probably one of the hardest thing I tried to do in my life.

"Grab your stuff, alright? Louis is probably waiting for you."

I stared at him for about a minute, remaining motionless, and finally grabbed a few things. He didn't move and when I was ready to go, I stood in front of him but he was avoiding my eyes.

"Well, goodnight I guess." I murmured and shrugged. "Thanks for the ride, too."

Without thinking, I took a step closer and got on my tiptoes. His eyes finally met mine and his angry expression turned into a surprised one. I kissed his cheek softly, my lips barely touching his skin but I still could feel his stubble scratch my chin anyway. I felt my heart jump in my throat at how bold I was and got back on my feet quickly.

"That was a nice discussion."

I could tell him that I hoped he'd have a great time, but it would be a lie, so I pressed my lips together and took a step back.

"When we didn't yell at each other, yea, it wasn't so bad." he added.

The left corner of my lips raised up in a sad smile and I nodded. It was nice to see a soft expression on his face instead of anger and I breathed in, turning around and leaving. I closed my eyes right after I closed the door and tried to hold back the tears inside. What the fuck was I doing? I was supposed to hate him, and not let my emotions invade me and get the best of me.

Why was I trying so hard not to cry that my throat actually hurt from it? Why did it matter if Niall was going to have sex with an other girl? It's not like I was an option in his mind anyway. But the question that echoed in my head over and over again was, why did it hurt me instead to make me hate him?

I jumped and got out of my thought when my phone made a sound. I knew it was Louis and I just breathed in and out a few times, trying to get back to my senses. I didn't want to bother Louis with my feelings again, and I was not in the mood to have a discussion about Niall. Daxia was right, we were tired. In fact, I was exhausted. I had no idea how I'd manage to go to class, study, work on project, paint and work all at the same time. There had to be an other option but I couldn't seem to find it and I just took a few steps before knocking softly on Louis' door. I could find a solution tomorrow, and anyway, it was not like my brain was functioning properly anyway.

I couldn't stop thinking about Niall and what he was about to do, and my heart ached every single time I thought about what I had seen before. It was one thing to imagine it, but when it was an actual image from an actual memory, it was even worse.

Louis was almost already asleep when I step foot in his room. I just put sweatpants and a hoodie on and joined him in bed without a word. I was tired but I couldn't seem to fall asleep and when I did, I couldn't stop the nightmares from taking over my mind. Maybe I should actually paint from my dreams, too, just like Dali. But then, my painting would only involve a broken heart and two naked forms.

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan au #niall horan college au #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan uni au #my fanfics #swy

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lowkeyorloki · 4 years ago

Text

A Study In Suit, Part II

Summary: You’ve worked too damn hard to get into Professor Laufeyson’s advanced course, and you’re not about to let your pesky attraction to him get in the way. Your professor, however, has other plans...

+ Part I +

-> Read it on ao3

Chapter Summary: In which Professor Laufeyson lends you his shirt.

Taglist (taglist is open! message, dm, or reply to this post to be added!): @myraiswack @lucywrites02 @uada-animus @theatrelove3000 @crystal-28 @country-cowgirl-101 @wallywaffle @girls--girls-boys @maze-lt101

A/N: I have decided to update this story every Thursday, because who doesn’t need a middle of the week pick-me-up? Hope you’re all doing well and enjoy this chapter!

There were a lot of things you liked about your university.

The campus was gorgeous, for one. Despite being a fairly prestigious school, living off-campus was affordable in the area. The professors were some of the best in their fields.

But your favorite aspect of college might just be the libraries.

There were three on campus, each with a focus, and you currently had your setup in the one typically frequented by English students. You were on the third floor, which had posters and reminders everywhere you looked that this was the quiet section of the library. Group projects could head back down to the lobby.

Whenever you can’t focus at your apartment- whether you were scrolling endlessly through your phone or keep getting up to grab a (sad, almost expired) snack from your kitchen, there was always something at home to keep you from work. But not the library. Something about being around other students working and rows and rows of books inspired you.

And right now, you needed to be inspired.

Your paper for Professor Laufeyson’s class was getting somewhere, just not fast enough. It wasn’t that you were worried about the due date. You just wanted to give yourself lots of revision time, a good week or two to go through each and every word. Make it perfect. Tailor it to Professor Laufeyson’s taste.

...Not that you were trying to impress him. You just wanted a good grade, and after class earlier this week, he would be paying more attention than he normally would. You were just taking extra care to remain in the class with a good grade. That was all.

Tailoring your paper to Professor Laufeyson’s tastes… Your mind wanders, thinking back to your professor’s tongue tapping his teeth.

“That’s it.” You say out loud. A few heads snap up to glare at you. You shrink down in your seat. Oops.

You check the time on your computer. 12:30. You have about a half hour until your next class starts. You know you won’t get anywhere if you stay here, so you begin to pack up. There’s a Starbucks in the lobby. That should distract you, and give you a much needed energy boost. You have a lab today, that’s why you dressed in an old sweatshirt and beat up converse. No one important would see you, anyway. It was your only class.

You make your way down to the student-run Starbucks, quickly ordering and standing to the side. Because the quality here wasn’t really consistent, your orders weren’t either. You usually tried something new each time, always making sure to get your extra hot. You hated lukewarm coffee.

Your name is called out, and you thank the barista as he slips a sleeve over your drink to hand it to you. As you’re walking out of the building, your phone buzzes. Without thinking, you reach into your back pocket and pull it out. Nat.

Trying 2 focus but Bruce won’t stop grinning at me with a stupid look on his face. He just ate half of my lunch and I LET him. No clue what this means.

You let out a small laugh. You weren’t sure how you felt about your two friends maybe possibly conceivably having a thing either, but Bruce would be better for Natasha than most guys on this campus. You begin to tell her that as you make your way through the door, the crisp air causes you to shiver a bit. You’re just about to hit send when -

Your coffee cup is suddenly knocked from your grasp, and to your horror, it spills directly onto your chest. You let out the stupidest sound you’ve ever heard, something between a whine and gasp of pain as your extra hot latte seeps through your sweatshirt and onto your skin.

“Fuck!” You curse, unable to stop yourself. You clamp a hand over your mouth, bending over and grabbing your shirt to hold it as far away from your skin as possible. It’s too late. The majority of your coffee is now on your torso, running over your chest and stomach in hot drips that feel like fire. It hurt. Bad.

“I’m so sorry.” you hear a voice. You nod, not really able to look up just yet, and keep your hand over your mouth so whoever did this can’t hear your chorus of ohmygodohmygodohmygod. You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder. “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Wait a second. You know that voice.

You look up, absolutely horrified to see Professor Laufeyson watching you with a furrowed brow. But not in amusement or annoyance like you’re used to: worry. Not a ton. He’s looking at you like the pain you’re experiencing is nothing more than, like, a hangnail. But still. He’s worried, and you’ve never seen that on him.

That, however, isn’t really on your mind right now.

“It’s fine.” you take your hand away from your mouth. Your voice is strained. You stand up straight, still doing your best to keep your sweatshirt from touching your burning skin. You open your mouth to say more, but shut it, unsure of what to say.

“You…” Professor Laufeyson eyes the now empty coffee cup on the pavement. “Do you need to go to the health center?”

“What? Dude, no.” in your frenzied state, you let the informal word slip out. “I’m sorry. No, professor, I don’t need the health center.” They could give you either a bandaid or a condom, neither of which would serve you particularly well right now.

If your professor is offended by your lack of formality, he doesn’t show it. He clears his throat, and takes his hand off your shoulder. It makes you shudder, the loss of contact.

“Do you have something you can change into?” he asks evenly. You’re still looking anywhere but him, trying desperately not to think about how much your chest hurts and how much of an idiot you must look like in front of one of the best professors here.

“No. Professor, I’m fine. I shouldn’t have,” you grit your teeth. Did you really have to get the coffee extra hot? “Shouldn’t have been on my phone.”

You look at your professor now. He has his own phone in his hand.

“Ah.” you say. Professor Laufeyson slips it into his pocket. You’re both quiet for a minute, until the man lets out a sharp intake of air. “Well, um… I have class in twenty minutes, professor, and I-”

“Come with me.” he turns around, and begins walking back down the steps. You don’t move, unsure of what he could be doing. “Come on.” he says, and you listen. It was a demand, one that honestly had intimidated you a little bit, and you find yourself trailing behind him. You cross your arms over the brown stain on your chest as you walk across campus, trying to wrap your head around what’s going on.

Professor Laufeyson leads you into the English building, nodding at a few passing professors as he does. He stops at an office you’ve never been in, pulling out a key and quickly unlocking the door. He ushers you in.

“What?” you watch as the professor shuts the door behind you both. The blinds on the windows are closed, and you look around. The room has very little in it, no more than a desk and bookcase with some textbooks and plaques.

“This is my office.” Professor Laufeyson tells you. “Perhaps you would know if you ever took advantage of office hours.”

“I’ve never needed to.” you grumble. You turn back to your professor. You can’t tell, but it looks like he may be smiling at your retort. Just a bit.

“Here.” he approaches you, a large cable knit sweater in his hands. It’s navy. You’ve seen him wear it before.

“Professor.” you say. “I can’t-”

“Please.” he interrupts you. “It can’t be good for you to continue wearing that. Just,” he pushes the sweater closer to you. “Take it.”

You can tell this isn't an argument you’re going to win, and tentatively, you accept the gesture. Professor Laufeyson looks relieved, and turns around so he can’t see you. You feel your heart speed up.

“You want me to…?”

“You said you have class, right? Just put it on.”

“Okay.” you say softly. Professor Laufeyson sounds angry. You drop your bookbag, slowly taking your ruined white sweatshirt off.

“What class do you have?”

“Pardon?”

“I,” Professor Laufeyson clears his throat. “I wonder, what class do you have?”

You realize this must be your professor’s attempt to make this less… awkward. You swallow.

“One of Dr. Stark’s labs.” you say. You see Professor Laufeyson’s head cock to the side. His silky hair moves with it. You try not to think about this, about the fact you’re standing shirtless in his office.

This was so inappropriate. Your angry skin prickles, as if to remind you that even if that was the case, you kind of had no other choice. You start to tug Professor Laufeyson’s sweater over your head.

“You wore white to a lab?” he asks incredulously.

“It’s an old sweatshirt.” you finish putting the navy garment on. The sweater is huge, reaching halfway down to your knees. It’s soft, so soft, and actually does something to soothe your skin. Your cheeks heat up at the realization this shirt had been on your professor’s own bare chest. Was it weird to pay attention to that? If it is, you mentally decide to forgive yourself. This whole thing was weird.

“Alright.” you say in a voice barely above a whisper. Professor Laufeyson faces you again. He looks at you, and you think you see his eyes widen. It was probably just a trick of the light.

“Well.” Professor Laufeyson checks his watch. “You have two minutes. Would you like me to email Dr. Stark? Explain why you may be late?”

“Um,” you consider the offer as you stuff your sweatshirt into your bookbag. “I’ll um, see if I need you to do that. I can email you tonight, if you want.”

“Yes.” he nods. “Please do.”

“Okay. I’ll just… Go.”

And you do.

“You look cute!” says your lab partner as you sit down. Dr. Stark glares at you. You mouth ‘sorry’ at him (it was that kind of class. If you had to be uber formal with Professor Laufeyson, Dr. Stark was the opposite. He tried once to get you to call him Tony. You refused) because you did end up being late. You stopped in the bathroom to make yourself seem more normal. Professor Laufeyson’s sweater had three buttons towards the neck, and you unbuttoned all of them. You did a classic french tuck - because you obviously had seen Queer Eye - and pulled your hair back. It wasn’t perfect, but it made the sweater seem more like yours and less like Professor Laufeyson’s.

Professor Laufeysons!

“Thanks.” You say. Wanda beams at you. You’re quickly becoming close, the two of you. Wanda was your age, a transfer student. She was smart, almost painfully so, and didn’t hang around many people. Just you and her brother.

You feel bad for your new friend as you start and proceed to continually mess up the lab. Your sleeves get in the way a few times, but besides that, you’re just distracted. By the time class is over, you’re desperate to just get back home so you can think. Or process. That was a more accurate term.

You expect Dr. Stark to call you over to his desk as you file out the door, but he doesn’t. Oh well. That lets you get to your car all the more faster, making some very questionable driving choices as you speed back to your apartment. You practically throw the door open, quickly locking it behind you and looking at yourself in the mirror.

Unreal. This whole thing, this whole day. You stare at your reflection, at the girl wearing Professor Laufeyson’s perfectly kempt sweater and just shake your head.

You walk over to your couch, not even bothering to kick off your shoes as you collapse on it. You have homework - a lot of it, you always do. But your eyes are getting heavy. You close them, letting yourself relax for the first time the day.

You take a deep breath, and you realize that Professor Laufeyson’s shirt smells like him. You didn’t even know he had a smell - how would you? But now, wrapped up in his clothing and in the safety of your living room, you’ve never been more aware of anything. It’s intoxicating, almost, the musky scent of pine and leather. There was a sweeter smell too, vanilla, you think. It’s like Professor Laufeyson is in the room with you. Even better, like he’s laying on the couch with you. You remember his strong hand on your shoulder, and think about how it must feel to be held by a man like him.

You want to keep imagining, you want to hold onto this, because it’s probably the most exciting thing that’s going to happen to you for awhile. But the exhaustion brought on by shock and pain finally takes its toll, and you slip into sleep before you can even set an alarm.

You get to Professor Laufeyson’s class somewhat early the next day. You had woken up to an email from him, one that explained he emailed Dr. Stark after all. That explained why you hadn’t been scolded in front of the entire class. You were also told to look into buying some aloe vera.

There’s no one in the classroom yet except for Professor Laufeyson at his desk. You take a seat in the one you always sit in, taking note of the coffee cup that sits on the corner.

You eye Professor Laufeyson, but he’s distracted, reading some book with an ornate cover. Or at least pretending to. You snatch the cup, looking at the little check boxes on the side. It’s from Starbucks, and it’s the exact same drink you ordered yesterday, except this time, it’s iced.

You’re about to say something to your professor, but the rest of the students quickly start to appear, Natasha being one of them. She pouts at you as she sees the coffee.

“You didn’t tell me you were going somewhere. I would have texted you my order.” she says. You flash her a grin.

“Sorry.” you apologize. “It was, um, unexpected.” you begin to feel someone’s gaze on you. You turn to Professor Laufeyson, and feels a surge of pride when you see he’s looking back.

Your eye contact falls quickly as he stands up to begin the class. Your professor pays attention to every student but you for the rest of the period. Normally that would bug you.

But today, it doesn’t.

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years ago

Text

Brothers take care of each others

This was prompted by an amazing anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 | Character: Elijah Kamski

The ceiling above him was still clad in total darkness, the sky outside the window turning light blue only at the horizon and stars sparkling peacefully. It was an hour that demanded everyone to stay in bed and get a couple hours’ worth of sleep. Yet Gavin laid in his bed and stared up at his ceiling unable to fall asleep ever since the call of ‘Hah, it worked!’ had woken him up ten minutes to four o’clock. Since then he tried to ignore the distant sounds of tools clattering to the floor. One thing was for sure: Sleeping over these noises was far easier than falling asleep to them. he cursed, looking at his alarm that read 4:30 completely indifferent to what that time meant for Gavin. He sighed deeply. There was no use staying under the sheets any longer, he was awake now. Might as well stand up.

Not bothering with any clothes other than the boxer shorts and the loose old T-shirt he had slept with, he opened the door and yawned heartily on his way to the bathroom. ‘Oh, you are awake!’ Gavin’s lids fell in resignation, as he showed his brother the middle finger and continued walking towards the bathroom without even looking at him. Ten minutes later, he had splashed some water in his face and had readied himself for another day. Sort of. He had zero interest in trimming his stubble and trying to hide the dark rings under his eyes was of no use either. At least he felt ready to deal with his brother now.

‘Morning’, he hummed as he entered the living room, stifling yet another yawn. ‘Good morning indeed.’ ‘Says you’, Gavin commented. ‘I didn’t phcking asked to be woken up at four.’ ‘Sorry. Forgot you’re not a morning person.’ ‘Nah, I’m normal, other than you’, he huffed. ‘Okay, I need a coffee now.’ ‘Perfect! Then you can already try out my improvements!’ Gavin stopped in the middle of the kitchen. ‘Improvements?’

‘Yes! I hooked up your coffee machine with the internet! It is now able to import recipes for any kind of coffee you might like and start brewing it – if you have given it the right ingredients of course.’ Gavin looked at Elijah with a face that expressed to equal measures pain and frustration. ‘And what about a regular damn coffee, like I always make it?’ ‘I called that program a “phcking” coffee’, Elijah mocked him, tapping at the display hastily attached to the machine. Gavin watched how his favourite mug filled with his life saving drink and sighed. ‘Oh, the wonders of technology…’ ‘Oh, then you will love what I did to your microwave!’

Gavin groaned, sipping on his coffee instead of commenting. It had only been three days so far and already Elijah had “improved” half of the technology he had in the house. He would have told him to stop, but as long as Elijah was busy tinkering with his stuff, he wouldn’t become bored. And if Gavin remembered one thing from his childhood, then he knew that was about the worst state one could meet his brother in. Even with Elijah no longer being part of Cyberlife, he was still an influential and rather public person. His latest talk about the autonomy of androids had had quiet the impact, especially in the anti-android community, as they had looked up to him as the creator of these “supposedly alive” machines. It shouldn’t have surprised Eli as much as it had that afterwards, people would come to him with their hate. But since someone had broken into his heavily secured house and had killed one of the Chloes without leaving as much as a trace, his home was an active crime-scene and it was either a hotel room or Gavin’s apartment for the man.

Elijah, curious as ever, had of course taken the latter, if not to spy on police investigation, then to spend a few weeks with his brother he hadn’t seen in ages. Not that Gavin really could complain - it was fun having him around. But he was also a usually very private person and Elijah’s constant energy had quickly started getting on his nerves.

‘And? When will you drive to work today?’, Elijah asked. ‘Still time for breakfast?’ Gavin sighed. ‘Yeah, sure. Want some toast? Don’t think I have much-‘ ‘I want to come with you.’ That made even sleep deprived Gavin suddenly attentive. ‘What?’ ‘To your workplace’, Eli explained. ‘I could find out more about the status of the investigation of my home. Also, I could finally see for myself who that certain android is you put an eye on!’ ‘I don’t- Elijah, you can’t just stay at the station. You are a civilian! I will keep you updated.’ ‘I’m also one of the richest men in the world. I doubt anyone would want to stop me.’ ‘I- Elijah, you still can’t-‘ ‘Come on!’, the man just talked over him. ‘It will be fun! I’ll drive us.’ Unable to stop his brother storming out of the flat with the keys, Gavin sighed, downed the rest of his coffee and hastily got dressed. That would be the worst day of his work life for sure.

‘So this is where you work. Interesting.’ ‘You’ve been here before’, Gavin grumbled, not really sure if he was more tired or more embarrassed at the moment. ‘Promise me you’ll leave me alone for at least the first hour, okay? I seriously have to get some stuff done.’ ‘Oh, of course!’ But despite his words, Elijah followed him to his desk. Gavin decided to ignore him in favour of starting up his terminal, but Nines had never been the one to hide what he was thinking: ‘Mr. Kamski? What are you doing here?’ ‘Oh, you must be Nines! I’m just accompanying my brother to work. Wanted to take a look at the place he keeps complaining about.’ ‘You can’t be here.’ ‘Well, but I am, am I not?’ ‘That… That really isn’t a valid argument.’ ‘Listen, Nines. How about instead of talking about something you can’t change anyways, you show me around a bit?’ Nines looked at Gavin for help, but it was his partner’s silent pleading him to “yes, please, get him away from me” that let him cave in. ‘Okay, but I can’t show you everything.’

Gavin watched them walk off and praised the blissful silence. He concentrated on the screen in front of him, knowing he had to finish all the important work now before Eli would come back and annoy him further. He loved his brother. But some distance was clearly needed after all these years. He actually managed to answer his mails and find himself back into his case, reviewing evidence and the first lab results that had come in regarding blood analysis and genetic information about the murderer. Then Nines and Elijah came back. Gavin saw him passing Fowler’s glass cube and his heart sunk. But then the door opened.

‘What the hell is Kamski doing here?’, the Captain shouted in the room, effectively silencing any conversations. ‘I wanted to take a look around’, Elijah simply answered. Fowler looked at him as if he had just lost his mind. ‘This is a police station! Not some kind of tourist attraction! You can’t be here.’ Every other person would have long apologised and run for their life with Fowler this angry, but Elijah stood his ground and smiled. ‘And you can’t make my brother work his ass off like a Lieutenant and still pay him Detective money, especially after his recent achievements, yet here we both are.’ In over eighteen years of working in this precinct, Gavin had never seen Fowler speechless. The man stared at Elijah, who smiled at him in all confidence, while most of the officers in the precinct seemed ready to duck behind their tables.

‘Leave’, was all the Captain pressed out. ‘Now.’ ‘Alright, don’t want any trouble.’ Elijah grinned, winked at Nines and made his way over to the door. ‘Gonna pick you up later, bro!’ Gavin didn’t give him any answer as he knit his brows and rubbed his forehead. Too little sleep, too much early morning conversation, too little coffee and now the whole precinct’s attention. Great. He just wanted to get his work done, get home and sleep. And exactly that he was going to do.

Until his break began and Nines approached him. With a sigh of regret, Gavin turned around and waited. ‘Is it true?’ ‘Is what true, tin-can? I had a really shitty day so far and I still can’t read minds.’ Nines shifted his weight on his other leg and continued: ‘Your brother… When I led him through the building, he told me you had a crush on me.’ Thinking about everything that could have happened today, Gavin certainly hadn’t expected that.

‘This asshole! I will phcking kill him, I swear!’ ‘So… It’s not true?’ ‘Hell, of course it’s true!’ Gavin froze. Why had he said that? ‘Oh.’ Gavin looked up at the android, that was smiling to himself, cheeks tinged blue. ‘That’s… nice to hear.’ ‘Is it?’ ‘I mean, I like you a lot, Gavin. To learn it’s mutual is… very nice.’ Gavin sighed deeply, holding his head. ‘I will phcking kill him…’ ‘Are you not happy about this?’ ‘Phck, Nines, I am. I really am. But I’m tired, I have an annoying as phck brother at home that just won’t shut up and I really wanted to ask you out any other way than this.’

‘I understand’, the android nodded. ‘But it’s nice to have it out now, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah. Yeah it is. Listen, I… Let’s forget this happened for just this day, okay? I will leave early today, speak to my brother about all of this and if I’m not charged with murder tomorrow morning, how about we do this properly? Tomorrow is your free day, right?’

Nines nodded and smirked. ‘Call me if you need to hide the body.’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Elijah Kamski #I hope this isn't as bad as my brain makes me think it is and you still enjoyed it #if not let me know I can try again

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vydante · 4 years ago

Text

Restart | 12

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: multiple)

A/N: Missed y'all. I don't think I'm officially off of my hiatus, but I somehow managed to pull a chapter out of my ass after months of radio silence. I really did back myself into a corner with the last chapter, but hey, this is my story and I get to pace it however I want.

Sorry if things are worded weirdly, I'm writing them but they're going through one ear and out the other when it comes to comprehending what I actually wrote. No one will remember what happened, but that's okay. God, I really need a beta-reader... Anyways. Love y'all. XOXO.

Also, sorry if any of the formattings seems off. HTML doesn't really translate well over certain sites. (Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, and AO3 are now my main places for posting my works. Anywhere else, that's not me nor was it permitted by me.)

If you want a recap: You're in the process of jumpstarting Project Renaissance after realizing that you've just been doing basically nothing ever since you woke up in your old body. You've also taken to making video logs to report down your progress, and in the last chapter (that was in the POV of multiple video logs), it ended on a cliffhanger with Barnes being discovered and moved to a safe house.

This chapter takes place roughly after the last one.

If you're currently binge reading this story, this recap is only because last chapter was updated... Roughly more than 7 months before this chapter. So. Yeah. :D

Oh, and let's pretend that either A. Barnes doesn't have a tracking chip in his arm OR B. he did, but you got it out during the whole rescue-escapade. That's my bad, I straight up forgot about that possibility until I was like, close to 4000 words deep into this chapter. Now we're at roughly 8k+... Hehe. Whoops.

_______

You're not gonna call Barnes, Bucky.

There's a personal touch to the nickname that bothers you. How awful it sounds in your ears, to call the former husk of a man a name he no longer recognizes. There's history to that name, both on writing and in memory, though only in sparsity. Plus, it'll be difficult for you to associate Bucky to Barnes. A man with an identity to a man without.

So after the whole debacle of getting him out of the mini-Hulk playbox and into decent dry clothing, when he asks what his name is, you quietly debated to yourself what to tell him.

"... Your name is James Buchanan Barnes," you'd eventually reply.

He doesn't comment on the resignation in your tone, but you're confident that he certainly noticed it- surely, the ticks of being the Winter Soldier was still there, no matter how disoriented he must be. But whether courtesy was something that he hadn't forgotten whilst his brain was refried over and over like leftover KFC wings or he was simply too exhausted to ask, you didn't care.

Granted, for a man who should have a lot of questions on his mind, he's definitely proven himself to be a man of very few words.

An hour goes by, and in the midst of you trying your best to build a solid standing between the two of you, he's said so few words that you could probably count all of them on both of your hands.

If it weren't for the nods of affirmation, you'd think that his averted gaze from you would have meant that he wasn't paying attention at all, but honestly, you knew better than to judge him for that if he actually wasn't actually listening in the first place.

Hell, he could tear up the walls to the high heavens and you still wouldn't hold him against it, so you were just thankful that he was so docile, for someone who could snap your neck if he felt so inclined.

Though, as it turns out confusion and disorientation wasn't the actual reason why he was being so docile, you belatedly realize as you're stood in front of a blank-faced Barnes. You're in the middle of trying to give him a basic tour around the house when he quietly interrupted your monologuing.

"Mission parameters," you echoed his words, though mainly to yourself. He nods, and for once meets your eyes. There's neither confidence nor surrender in his eyes, and that makes your stomach churn. Chances are, he probably saw nothing wrong with asking such a thing.

"You want me to give you- mission parameters. Like- like your handlers would?" You laughed incredulously, but the humor was replaced with subdued hysterical horror.

You were aware of what they were. Aware of the types of hunts his Handlers- bastards- would sick him out on. Aware of what he did without a second thought. You saw those files, if only briefly. That was more than enough for you to see the type of expectations that came alongside "mission parameters".

He nods as if you were stating the obvious.

God.

You opened and closed your mouth, and for a split second, once you got past the horror of being asked to tell him what to do, a subtle realization crawled up your spine. In the midst of your impromptu introduction and briefing, you never really made a distinction as to what role you were supposed to play in all of this.

So it shouldn't be a surprise for Barnes to assume that you're his new- what? Handler? Caretaker? After all, as far as you can assume, that's probably all he knows; all he was conditioned to grow accustomed to, to expect his every move to be dictated by some outsider with no care to the wants or needs that Barnes has.

(Hell, if you were to make a reach right now, maybe Barnes thinks he doesn't have wants or needs. That he shouldn't.)

(In the background, a part of you simmer in silence.)

With your jaw clenched, you make an effort to make your voice as even as can be when you ask him, "You don't need mission parameters, Barnes. You're your own free man. You can- can make decisions on your own. You don't need me to tell you what you need to do."

Pray as you might, there's something about realizing that you said the wrong thing right after saying said words that make you wonder what you did to anger the higher powers that be to put yourself in the situation you're in right now.

Barnes doesn't say anything, but his eyes says it all. Confusion. Realization. Grief. Detachment. His metal hand clenches, and you're man enough to admit that it made your heart stutter in fear.

"I...", he mutters, "... don't understand."

You swallowed.

This...

This is gonna be tough.

_______

It's difficult to explain what self-autonomy and freedom meant to a man who is only capable of remembering being chained and held on a leash like a rabid dog.

Thankfully, it was your winter break, so you had a manageable excuse for being away from "home" for a few days, but you only had so long to try and establish to Barnes that you're not going to be able to be there with him as often as you are now (and even then, the time frame was too small to even make any sense of attachment).

You knew for sure you couldn't always be there for Barnes, so one thing was certain: he had to meet DAHLIA. And thankfully, since the whole safe house was yours, not even your father knew that DAHLIA, your own A.I., would be uploaded into the houses' built-in hardware.

(While the hardware was built with the intention of housing J.A.R.V.I.S. there as a standard, he ended up "moving out" the moment that the house became yours. Something about "not intruding on a teenager's privacy", but you're more than thankful for Tony's afterthought, even if you did end up taking slight advantage of his consideration.)

And surprisingly enough, Barnes wasn't really bothered by the concept of DAHLIA as much as you had initially expected. Of course, he didn't really talk to her, but it wasn't like he talked much in the first place.

(On a side note, it looks like DAHLIA seems to like the house, all things considered... So there's that.)

(The original DAHLIA was never installed here, instead she ended up "living" in a retirement house of sorts in a wooded area of New York. She never said anything about the house, so it's... Kind of endearing, to see that she actually might prefer this house instead. And mildly insulting, considering you personally decorated the other house.)

You ended up spending nearly the whole night trying to establish even the most basic of guidelines: use the bathroom whenever he needed to (you initially said phrased it as "wanted", but he promptly cut you off saying "The Asset does not have wants," which, rude, but also sad); whatever is in the kitchen is available for him to eat whenever, where ever; basic hygiene; and the most important one- if he had any questions, his first source would be you. And on the off-chance that you're not available, DAHLIA is always online and ready to help.

He gave a tentative nod, but you're somehow not confident that he might have interpreted it wrong. You're hoping he doesn't do anything to prove you right.

"Alright. So. Any questions?"

He stares at you for a beat too long before shaking his head.

He's still giving non-verbal answers for the most part, but it's better than nothing. You internally sighed and motioned him to follow you deeper into the safe house.

Considering that it was already pretty late by the time you managed to beat those guidelines into his head (maybe that should be worded better, but you never claimed to be a lyricist; it is what it is), he might be just as tired as you are from how long the day has been.

(Granted, this dude has been "asleep" for who knows how long, but it's the thought that counts.)

"You know where I'm taking you to?" you asked, not really expecting an answer from him.

"No," he responds from behind you. Color you surprised.

You turned into the hallway and stepped up to an unassuming door. You opened it to reveal an equally unassuming bedroom. Muted colors, modern design; it reeked Pepper's doing, knowing that Tony isn't as decoratively-inclined as she is.

Hah, bet she didn't expect that instead of housing you or your dad, it'll go to a super-solder that wasn't Steve instead.

(Not that Steve would ever have a reason to step foot in here, but in this line of work, you'd be stupid to be 100% sure about something.)

You motioned him to come into the room and tilted your head to the bed.

"This is your bedroom, pretty much where you'll be sleeping. There's a bathroom right over there," you motioned to the door adjacent to the entrance door, "and I'll be in the room right next to yours."

Barnes takes a second to process it all, and with a quick scan of the room with calculating eyes, he nods. You absentmindedly scratched the back of your neck.

"I mean, there's plenty of rooms here so if you don't like this one, just let me know and we'll probably move you to another room-" you rambled, secretly trying to get a move on so you'd finally get some shut-eye.

(What? You're not perfect, sleep is heavily slept on in this day and age. Hah.)

(God, you're definitely going to hell.)

"-and you know how to use a toilet, right?"

The raised eyebrow pointed at you definitely proves that that was a pretty stupid question, but hey, you can't take any chances. You shrugged, a tired smirk threatening to form on your lips.

"Well then. Can I leave it to you to settle down for the night, or...?" you left it open-ended.

He didn't say anything in response, only stared at the bed in front of him. There was a pregnant pause, but he nodded at you. There was a strange tilt to his eyes, but you didn't bother to think further into it as you were just thankful that you could finally rest.

"Well then, good night Barnes. I'll come by tomorrow morning and we'll continue to, er," you thought about it, "work, on your situation."

You made a swift exit out of his room and immediately into "your" room, which was literally right next to his. You immediately discarded your clothes and with a brisk shower and teeth brushing, you promptly dropped straight onto the bed with an audible grunt, wet hair soaking straight into the pillow.

Pulling the plush duvet to cover your body, you reached for your phone to check for any messages you might have gotten.

(3 from Tony; he asked where you were. You told him that you're staying at a safe house and that you needed a small break. It wasn't wrong, but definitely an omission of truth. A few days would be fine, right?)

(2 from Rhodey; it's a picture of a Goodwill's, and there's a silhouette in a nearby window of some guy. "This you?" he asks. "No ❤️," you sent back.)

(63 is from the group chat that the Avengers are in- ah, make that 64 and counting. It's just a bunch of nonsense from what you can gather, but you briefly scrolled through it anyways.)

Turning your phone off, you smushed your face into the pillow and sighed, a terrible knot forming at the pit of your stomach. With an open ear, you tried to hear any noise that could come from Barnes' room, but considering that the walls were reinforced and he was already quiet as it is, all you could hear was the AC running in the background.

"DAHLIA," you huffed, eyes drooping, "keep an eye on him, wake me up if anything happens."

"Got it," her voice echoes from the ceiling speakers.

You quietly tucked yourself in bed. As the exhaustion finally started settling in your body, the last thought that lingered in your head was "Man, I hope nothing bad happens tomorrow," before you drifted right off to dreamless slumber.

_______

The next day was, to say the least, a little disconcerting, but a bigger improvement to be sure.

Right after waking up, you begrudgingly put on some daytime appropriate clothes and stepped out into the hallway. You knocked on the door that was right next to yours, and gingerly opened it when you didn't hear much of a response.

"Good morning," you tentatively greeted. Barnes was sitting at the foot of the bed when you knocked on his door. He mumbled back a greeting and stands up to your eye level.

His clothes are still the same from last night, and judging by the clean state of his bed, he either woke up earlier than you expected or he was sat like that the whole night.

You're not too keen on finding out which was the case, but you had to.

"Sleep well?"

You stepped out of the doorway and motioned him to follow you. Briefly glancing down at your phone to see just a few messages waiting for you, you opted to ignore them for now.

"I slept."

He quietly stated from behind you. He avoided saying if he slept well or not, but at least the damn Terminator slept. You mentally deflated a little; the bar was set so low for him, you're not too sure who it's more insulting to- you or him.

(Of course, it's to him, that shouldn't be a question. Your feelings don't matter.)

"We're gonna have to wing this a little, but uh, here's the general gist of what's gonna happen."

Stepping into the kitchen, you're taken aback to last night as he tentatively stands across from you from the kitchen island. Really, you'd opt to go to the living room, but you both radiate too much nervous energy to really sit.

You opened the refrigerator and sighed when all that greeted you was water and non-perishables. Right. You just got here, it's not like there's gonna be freshly stocked food in here 24/7.

"DAHLIA, order some fresh food and get it delivered today. Charge it on my debit," you mumbled quietly.

DAHLIA doesn't say anything, but the refrigerator lights flicker a familiar green hue that keys you in that she heard you. You raised an impressed eyebrow; what an unnecessary feature for a refrigerator to have. You closed the door and turned around to face Barnes.

"I'm here to serve as, say, a guide for," you gestured to him, "your... rehabilitation, of sorts."

"For now, I can't really offer any... Professional help, on a technical level. I'm not- that's not my area of expertise. I'm an engineer at heart," actually, you really liked other things more than being an engineer, but your fate of becoming the CEO of SI was sealed the moment you decided to live with your dad, "so we're going to have to make a compromise on that."

You shook your head.

"If you were anyone else, I'd point you to a shrink," Barnes gives you a confused stare.

"Therapist," you clarified. He nods.

"But quite frankly," Zemo's face flashes in your memory, "I don't trust anyone to properly... Well, I don't trust anyone when it comes to the mental health of you, and the Avengers too, of course."

Pausing mid-rant, you raised an eyebrow at him.

"You... do know who the Avengers are, right?"

He nods and begins to rattle off a pre-scripted monologue. His eyes are blank as he started speaking.

"A group of top priority, compromised of highly skilled individuals, enhanced or otherwise specified. Threat priority ranges from 5 to 9. As of now, 6 active-duty members and 1 reserve member. The Asset is to not engage under any circumstance and reveal-"

"Alright alright, I get it- that's," you're a little offended that you're considered a "reserve member", but that's not technically wrong, "That's a lot to unpack there, but yeah. You- whew, you definitely know who the- we are."

(You've gotten into the habit of distancing yourself from the Avengers the moment that you had become CEO. You're still working on that, but the word "we" still feels wrong on your tongue.)

There's a little more life that came back to Barnes' eyes after you had snapped him out of it, and it's a bit surreal knowing that Barnes just kinda... runs on autopilot when prompted. The image of Barnes being strapped down in a chair and forced to learn and recite those kinds of things by heart is both horrifying and a little funny.

(Do you think they had a set curriculum he had to learn by?)

"So yeah. The Avengers gotta be careful when lookin' for shrinks, and so do you. There's just too many factors that go into gettin' a personal therapist. So for now," you shrugged, "you're stuck with me."

"What are they?"

"Hm?"

"The factors."

You shrugged.

"Well, for starters, you're- you were, HYDRA's prisoner," the muscle around his jaw visibly clenches when you mentioned HYDRA, but you powered through, "so they'll definitely be interested in getting their fight dog back. They're good at blending in and good at getting their musty little fingers into every nook and cranny. I wouldn't put it past them to have one of their agents go undercover as a therapist for hire. So that's one factor: trying to discern who is and isn't HYDRA."

You raised a finger.

"Then there's the fact that because you're such a... shall we say, top priority, er, asset," that word runs bitter on your tongue, "even if your shrink isn't HYDRA, they'll definitely be targeted by HYDRA if it ever came to light that they have a direct link to you. So there's reason number two: loose ends, and the risks that come with it."

You raised another finger. By now, Barnes has a hard but contemplative curl to his lips.

"And then not to mention how unique your case it. Barnes, you've been a POW for decades. Your brain- no offense buddy, but from what I can tell, it's been fried to hell and back. I don't even have to do any fancy brain scans to know. And that's not even including all the other stuff they probably did to you, only God knows."

You shook your head.

"There's too much at risk for you to get proper therapy right now. But. It's not impossible."

You think back to Shuri, and how she and the other Wakandan scientists were successful in both removing the trigger words and rehabilitating Barnes.

Well, you're not sure about the last part, since you never interacted with the Barnes of your time, but you'd assume that they did help with his subsequent mental health. You wouldn't really put it past them- T'Challa was a nice guy, from your limited interactions with him way into the future, and Shuri was buzzing with ideas and energy. If T'Challa's sympathy for Barnes wasn't enough, then Shuri's crave to help and experiment would supplement the balance plenty. Vice versa, too.

So yeah, future-Barnes' mental health was most likely addressed during his time in Wakanda. And it was almost guaranteed to have been a success.

So you're still gonna hold a torch for the possibility that Barnes' can come out of this as a relatively well-adjusted guy.

Not to mention B.A.R.F. As far as you know, the R&D team assigned to that was still progressing smoothly, but the only downside to that was that it wasn't going to be until a few more years before it's "perfected".

You were never really involved in any way with B.A.R.F. since you were both prepping for SI and finishing college. Your dad was definitely more involved in it than you were, but it's not like you could ask him to pull a few year's worths of experimentation and knowledge out of his ass and exponentially boost the rate of B.A.R.F.'s progress, so.

Helen Cho suddenly sprang to mind, but you quickly threw away that thought. Your- well, Barnes'- issue was neurological, Cho was all about cell regeneration and is a geneticist. So unless somehow the issue crosses over with Cho's line of work, she wasn't a possibility either. There was also Strange, but as far as you've heard the man was pretty... abrasive, even as a wizard. Hard to get a hold of, and very... Hard-headed.

Well, all of that was second hand since it came from Tony, but still. Maybe you could pull Tony in for some clout, but that'll just make him suspicious. God, maybe you shouldn't have kept the whole "I'm actually from the future" spiel a secret, otherwise you wouldn't have to be doing all this crap alone.

Oh well. In for a penny, out for a pound.

You sighed, already feeling the dull thump against your skull starting to form.

"So what now?" Barnes asks. He's less tentative than he was last night, but still soft-spoken when he talks.

"Well, you're stuck with me, bud. I'll do my best to get you prepped for the actual rehabilitation, but honestly, that might take a little longer than you'd expect. So, we'll just- well."

You eyed the outfit he was donning, which was literally your clothes- so it was a few sizes too small for him. He doesn't really seem bothered by it, and if it weren't for the fact that he's sort of proved himself to be neglectful of voicing his own preferences, you'd be a little more inclined to appreciate the view of one very, very beefy super-soldier.

But alas.

Life never really works in your favor, so.

"We'll need to get a few essential things out of the way. Food is already on its way, I assume you aren't allergic to anything?"

He pauses, and there goes that familiar glaze forming over his eyes. You sigh, knowing that he was probably searching through his mental "data-bases" for any allergies, but thankfully it's not long as he blinks back into attention.

"None."

"Yeah, I could'a figured, what with your super-soldier serum."

(You're pretty sure that also makes him immune to cancer, but maybe that's just you glorifying it.)

"So: the food situation is cleared. Now, we need to get you some new clothes because, uh, those don't look very comfortable."

"Comfort does not matter. I am adequately dressed."

You snorted. Maybe it's better that you don't tell Barnes that he's wearing a Sharknado tee and some sweats that have "Eat this!" printed on his behind.

(And maybe it's better that you didn't remember that yes, these are indeed still your clothes.)

"Comfort does matter, my guy. DAHLIA, take some quick measurements."

The kitchen light dims and brightens, shining lime green into the kitchen. It lingers and turns back into that white-blue that sometimes makes your eyes burn when you've been up for too late into the night.

"Seargent Barnes' measurements are now on file. You two want to see the available catalog?"

Right where the kitchen island was, a panel opens up to reveal a hologram of a bunch of articles of clothing, all of which has been adjusted to Barnes' size- or an approximate at least, since there's some that's labeled X or XL.

"Barnes? You got anything you want to do right now or...?"

You gestured to the hologram in front of you.

His face contorts a little, not too noticeable at a quick glance. He doesn't look uncomfortable per se, but judging by the downwards curl of his lips, he's definitely not excited to see the hologram.

You flicked your wrist and it disappeared just as quick as it appeared. Strangely enough, his expression doesn't loosen up as his eyes flicker upwards to yours.

"Hey, that's okay. If it's the hologram, that's no biggie, we'll just move over to the, uh, TV in the next room over. C'mon."

You jerked your head and motioned him to follow you. His face laxes and he walks behind you without a word.

_______

You two ended up getting a lot done all things considered.

Barnes seemed pretty bothered by how many clothing choices there are, but when you asked if he wanted you to just curate a list for him, he easily relented. He was hovering over you the whole time, but you weren't too bothered by it as you were too busy browsing for him.

You went from site to site searching for clothes that screamed "The Winter Soldier", but all that was coming up was clothes in fifty shades of black and with no pizzaz. You did pass by a few Avengers-related merch (especially yours), but he said nothing when you added two or three into your cart, so he probably doesn't care. You did show him a lot of clothes that you thought would fit him, and he nodded to pretty much all of them.

By the time you were done looking for clothes, the doorbell had rung.

("That was quick," you reminisced. DAHLIA was quick to respond.

"It came from a nearby Walmart."

"Huh.")

Barnes' head jerked as his eyes were trained on the entrance door. You patted his arm, and his eyes glance at you.

"Relax, it's just the food. DAHLIA ordered some groceries earlier."

You stood up to go answer the door, and Barnes followed suit. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't really seem like he's gonna back down anytime soon.

"You know... You can follow behind, but you're gonna have to be in the shadows or something 'cuz, you know... Just- if someone's still at the door, don't let them see you okay?"

He nods, almost mechanically so, and you turned around and walked to the entrance door.

Opening the door, you were greeted with a few big boxes. You raised an eyebrow and glanced out through the door; there are no cars nearby, and DAHLIA whispers in your ear that the clearing's safe- not a single life signature anywhere.

"Barnes, the coast's clear," you called out, already reaching down to grab one of the boxes. You grunt, adjusting your grip before you lifted and turned around.

Barnes, having already popped out of whatever dark corner he was in, is already a few feet behind you.

"Hey, you don't mind helping me bring in those boxes, will you?"

You were already walking past him, but you barely caught the briefest flash of furrowed eyebrows before you saw him walk over to the door. You mentally shrugged, but placed the box in the kitchen and went back over to the door to get the other one.

By the time you were done setting down the box, Barnes had already closed the door and was standing under the arch connecting the kitchen to the main hallway.

You motioned him over, and he complied.

"What is inside?"

You're almost proud that you didn't jump. He doesn't talk much, but when he does it always startles you.

"Groceries, but I don't know what specifically. DAHLIA chose all of it. And by the looks of it, she chose a lot. So. You're gonna help me unpack and we'll probably- well, I'll probably make some food. You can help if you want."

Your back was turned to him, and you started unloading the boxes and their contents. Barnes doesn't move for a hot moment, but he squats down next to you and starts unwrapping the smaller boxes that were inside it.

"You don't mind if I put on some music, right?"

You glanced at him.

"I... don't. Mind," he mumbles, tentatively glancing back at you. You gave him a brief thumbs up and turned your attention back to

"DAHLIA, play something chill. Low volume."

_______

Pretty much, the whole day consisted of unpacking all of the groceries that had been delivered. You ended up pausing, having gotten tired of being awake without food in your stomach, and made some food for the two of you.

You tried conversing with him, trying to get him to at least feel more comfortable, and it... kinda worked. There are a few touchy subjects that he doesn't really seem to like talking about (he doesn't really vocalize his discomfort, but his flinches, no matter how minute they were, spoke louder than words). HYDRA, obviously. Anything revolving the Avengers put him off as well, among other things.

Really, most of the eating consisted of small talk and eating noises, but at least some of the tension in his shoulders had lessened by the time that you two needed to get back to unpacking. Hell, by the time that was done, Barnes' clothes had arrived.

(Oh, the benefits of being insanely rich. Say it with me kids: Thank you, Tony!)

You're usually a little apprehensive about buying clothes online, but color you surprised when not only did all of them fit; Barnes didn't have a single problem with any of them.

"You like 'em?"

You whistled when Barnes came out of his bathroom, now back in your clothes that you had given him originally. He tried all of them on, and you ended up buying him so many clothes that a lot of time had passed by the time he was done. You just sat on his bed, slowly collecting all of the clothes and ripping off the tags, damned if he didn't like one of them; you'll just take it instead.

"They're adequate," he nodded. In his hand were the folded clothes (A camo tee and dark sweatpants), and he set them onto his bed with the other folded clothes.

"Did any of 'em uncomfortable? Too tight, any of the fabric feels wrong...?"

You left the question open-ended as you helped him dump it into a laundry bin. He doesn't respond right away as if he didn't hear you. His eyes flicker over to yours.

"... No. They- I..." the muscle under his eye spasms, "I liked them..."

You grinned, "Glad to hear that, guess we got lucky that none of these was a dud, huh?"

The ghost of a smile that was on his lips appeared briefly, but it was gone just as fast as it had appeared.

Really, that had basically been the peak of the day before things had started to mellow out a little bit. But that was okay, you took whatever it was that Barnes gave, and if it was just the smallest smile you've ever seen on a man, then so be it.

Afterward, the day somehow managed to blend together and pass along like an exhale. Not much happened, since you couldn't really- well, offer anything that could scientifically and medically help him. So you opted to just- try to get him up to date as much as possible.

Honestly, by the time that you had gotten through the first three decades (starting when he was born), it was already pretty late into the night.

(He had a lot of questions, and you really didn't blame him. Hell, most of the more personal information really came from DAHLIA, because as much as you sympathized with the man, you really didn't care to learn about his whole entire biography.

But, at least you answered most of the history related questions. If you had to go through a few history college classes back when you were in college, then you'll be damned if you didn't at least make an effort to learn and internalize them.)

Barnes didn't really show any signs of exhaustion if the casual leg bouncing wasn't enough, but you sure were pooped.

(What? Unlike your dad (and most of the Avengers) you actually had a normal internal clock. For the most part, anyway.)

"Well, as much as I liked talking about prehistoric times," you sounded sarcastic, but you actually did like it, "I gotta sleep, I don't run on super-soldier energy like you do bub."

You stood up, stretched, and saw that Barnes was now standing up as well.

"Should I...?"

Raising an eyebrow, you huffed in good nature, "Go to sleep? Yeah, probably. We're not done with the History101 crash course, and we'll probably be talking about other things tomorrow as well," especially about the fact that you're not gonna be at the safe house often soon, "so we both need the energy for that. So, go clean up and get some Z's, yeah?"

"Oh."

He looked a little lost but followed you back into your shared hallway. Stopping in your doorway, you turned your head to glance at Barnes.

"Good night, Barnes," you nodded, not waiting for a response as you headed into your room. It was quiet and almost inaudible, but you still heard it with your ears before you had closed the door shut.

"... Good night."

You stood in your room, a sudden wave of both exhaustion and dread flooding your body. You shook it off though; it was just the nervous jitters hitting you at an inopportune time.

But really, you trusted your guts almost as much as you trusted Tony.

So as you brushed your teeth and did your business in the bathroom, you tried to quell the anxiety that was building up in your chest.

"DAHLIA, keep an eye on him."

"Gotcha, doll."

You sighed, dropped onto your bed, and hoped that whatever it was that might happen, you'd be prepared for it.

_______

And lo and behold, it didn't even have to be the next morning before shit all hit the fan when DAHLIA wakes you up in the middle of the night (3 A.M., to be specific).

"-oll, wake up! Barnes is having a panic attack!"

It takes half a second to process the fear in DAHLIA's voice. It takes another to process her words.

Fuck.

Scrambling immediately out the bed, you thanked whatever higher being there is that you were sleeping with at least some sweatpants on as you booked it straight to your door and right through Barnes'.

(Maybe you should have joined the football team, because that would have been one wicked tackle. Ha, yeah right, you know nothing about football.)

The lights were on, most likely DAHLIA's doing, and his bedsheets were clearly mussed up. He's nowhere to be seen, so your eyes jump to the joined bathroom door, and lo and behold, there was light bleeding through the cracks.

You quickly approached the door and opened it, throwing away the worry that he might have been absolutely naked.

The good news was that he wasn't nude.

The bad news was that he was hunched over on the ground, right in front of the bathroom counter, and he's gripping his head so tightly you would have thought his skull would have caved in.

Terror shoots down your spine like a lightning bolt, and you immediately rushed to the curled over Barnes, adrenaline rushing through you as a million thoughts ran through your head.

"Barnes!"

He doesn't appear to hear you, groaning and panting as he further curled in on himself. His muscles spasm, hard, and you're at a loss at what to do. He's sickly pale, and the sheen on his skin makes you want to vomit. His panting is shallow, and if you weren't sure if the glint that shone in your eyes was the reflection off of the marble floors or a puddle of saliva coming from Barnes.

You're not sure if touching him right now is a good thing, but you'll be damned if he wasn't your responsibility now. You reach out to him, wrapping one arm around his hunched back and the other trying to pry at his wrists.

(Would you have touched him, if you didn't have the reassurance that DAHLIA has your back?)

(Shut up.)

Maybe you were tensing up for him to go all "Winter Soldier" mode on you, but he's the one that tenses, even more, when you touched him. Thankfully, he doesn't resist your pull as his arm is limp the moment you tried to pull it back, but it doesn't change the fact that he's shaking, badly, and your mind is frozen in limbo.

"DAHLIA, what-"

You're at a loss for words, but DAHLIA, sweet DAHLIA already knows what you were about to ask.

"Sergeant Barnes was displaying elevated levels of anxiety, however, it did not seem to warrant any mentions. I thought-"

She cuts herself off, almost as if she was worried that she had made a wrong call. You swallowed, knowing that despite being a baby A.I., she's never done wrong by you- both in the future and now.

"You thought what?"

You try to rub Barnes' back as if he was a dog that had needed soothing. He groans, but you're not sure if you should interpret that as a hurt groan or a relieved one. You paused and moved your hand away, hovering it just inches away from his back, and his breath hitches.

Your hand dropped onto his back once again, and you could feel the muscles on his muscles spasm a little; his whimpers aren't as loud and painful (though, they're still more than worrying).

So, on the very small bright side, back rubs don't seem to be hurting him either. It's a small win, but a win for sure.

"You- my visuals were clear in the conclusion that you saw it. His discomfort. Your body language and expression acknowledged it but you refrained from addressing it. I- acted under the assumption that it was all under control..."

Something in your mind pauses for a pregnant second before your eyes widened.

"What?"

DAHLIA doesn't even get the chance to reply as Barnes jerks his hands away from yours and pulls at his scalp again. You lurched forward.

"Hey! No!"

You bit back a growl as you grabbed his wrists once again. You yank them back down to his sides as his body jolts, a sob ripping through him. You placed a hand on his chest and tried to boost him back up so he'll have his back against the bathtub that's behind him.

He offers little to no resistance as his back makes contact with the bathtub, but he's slumped into himself. He pulls his knees forward and curls his head into them. For a super-soldier, it's almost cute how hard he's trying to take up as little space as possible if it weren't for the fact that your heart was absolutely breaking at the sight of him.

"Oh, Barnes..."

In shuddered breaths, he mumbles something incoherent.

"...-an't, I- I- I-.... -can't..."

He shakes his head, jolting as if someone had shocked him. You rubbed his arm, glancing down at what you can now confirm to be a puddle of saliva, and then over to the trash can right next to the toilet. You're not too sure if you should get it just in case he decides to vomit, but you're ready to lunge for it the moment Barnes shows any signs of gagging.

"DAHLIA," you spoke at a lower volume, "what- when was he, um, uncomfortable."

"Two nights ago, roughly 22:00, when you told Sargeant Barnes that he was his own free man. Yesterday morning, 08:00, when you asked if he wanted to do anything prior to browsing the available clothing catalog. Right after, he was also discomforted by the catalog, before you offered to buy clothes for him. At-"

"That's- that's enough," you breathlessly muttered. DAHLIA doesn't say anything else, but the air has suddenly become heavier than you remembered.

Your head was almost dizzy with not only how many instances Barnes had been anxious in such a short time, but also at how you remembered each and every instance with startling clarity.

Barnes was anxious at the idea of freedom, but you put it off and opted to just give him a nickel tour of the house.

Barnes was anxious when you asked if he wanted to do anything before looking at clothes, but looked too relieved when you brushed over it.

Barnes was anxious at the idea of shopping for fucking clothes but was okay after you took over for him.

The taste of stomach acid burned your tongue, as yesterday's dinner threaten to rise at the implication of all of this.

"DAHLIA," you mumbled, "the- the rest of those instances- do they..."

You trained your eyes on Barnes.

"Do they all- follow the same... The same- pattern?"

DAHLIA was always in tune with you, even after the time jump.

"... Yes," she lamented.

"God..."

Now, you're not sure who that trash can would be really for; you or Barnes.

"Barnes..."

You murmured quietly. He flinches, and his shaking hasn't gotten any better.

"What- what was it? Was it- was it all too much? God, I'm so sorry, it probably was, wasn't it? I should have- fuck, I should have taken it more slowly, I-"

Barnes shakes his head, stopping you in your rambling. You blinked rapidly.

"Then- was it..." you paused, "... Was it the choices?"

It's almost expected that he doesn't answer you straight away, but he nodded anyway.

"I... It was- it was too much- I couldn't- I don't know- I-"

His breath shuddered with each word as if it hurt him to just even speak right now. You shushed him, ignoring the intrusive thought that it was akin to shushing an animal.

"Hey, hey, it's- it's okay. You'll be okay."

It's not much, what you're saying to him, and it's no surprise that they didn't do much anyway.

Honestly, you didn't know what to say at this point. There didn't even seem to be any phrasing in the known English language that would be able to comfort a man with as much baggage on his shoulders as Barnes, and briefly, just briefly, you wished that you were literally anywhere in the world, but here.

You tried thinking about anything that came from your (albeit limited) interactions with him between the past days that would help ground him, before something jolts you from deep within.

("What are my mission parameters," Barnes asked from behind you.

You paused.

"Mission parameters?")

You didn't even realize that you had said that out loud, but Barnes had tensed up even more before you could even take it back. He held his breath, audibly swallowing.

("You don't need mission parameters, Barnes. You're your own free man. You can- can make decisions on your own. You don't need me to tell you what you need to do.")

("I... Don't understand...")

You spoke on impulse.

"You... You need them, don't you? Mission parameters."

Immediately, you regretted even speaking up just as those words left your mouth.

While every fiber in your being hoped that it wasn't true, there was a small inkling in your head that already knew the answer to your question. It was the only thing that was barely even logical enough to make sense.

His apprehension of making a choice.

How uncomfortable in his own skin he always appeared, despite it even being just a few days.

How relieved he always looks, when the choice was already made for him.

His body tenses underneath your hand, but it's the slight bob of his head that makes your stomach drop. You thought- what a fool you were- you thought he'd be okay without being ordered around, but that was nothing but wishful thinking.

(What was the saying? It's hard to teach an old dog a new trick, was it?)

(Yeah.)

Looking at how only a few days of what you had originally thought was Barnes' newfound freedom turned out to be much more of a nightmare for Barnes, it might just be better for the both of you to push aside your comfortability and start making an honest-to-God investment into Barnes' recovery, even if that means that you had to take a step backward.

A very, very risky step backward.

It was a shot in the dark, but it was the only thing that you could place your bets on for now.

You just hoped that your aim wouldn't fail you now.

"Okay, well... How about this, Barnes, here's your main- your main mission, okay? Become a free man. Hey, no, look at me," you swiveled his head so he could look at you. His eyes were panicked, crazed, and irredeemably sad, but you had to make sure nothing crossed through your face so he'd know that everything will be okay. Your grip on both sides of his face was firm as you pleaded with him.

"Your only 'mission' right now? Breathe," ironically, his breath hitched, "If not for your own sake, then for mine."

You swallowed, heart stuttering as you looked into his glassy eyes.

"Please," you let your desperate prayer lingered in the air.

Maybe it was being given a task to accomplish after days of trying to figure out what to do with his supposed new "freedom", or it was how non-labor intensive and just... simple, his new mission parameter was, but it was almost instantaneous how all of the tension in his body dissipated into thin air.

Witnessing the moment of mercy upon grief through Barnes, no matter how brief or temporary it may be, was almost cathartic.

Almost.

(Perhaps you shouldn't be looking for absolution vicariously. But you were never really a good person, were you?)

_______

A/N: I've read a lot of WinterIron fics. While I have read a lot of interpretations about how Barnes would have reacted when he was freshly freed from HYDRA, this is how I choose to interpret it- one that would best fit the story for now. Next chapter, since I couldn't fit it in this chapter, is a special, but it is very much important and related to the story, and Barnes as a character. If you're familiar with some WinterIron tropes, this won't be too foreign of an idea. Not too sure about other ships/ stories, but. Ah, I'm rambling. Anyways, see you next year lol.

_______

Masterlist

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Tagged: @unsolvetheheckoutofit @tonystanktheirondad @ludwigvonbaethoven @rspctot7 (if you’re not @/ fabledxmystery, so sorry for the mistag! LMK if it’s not you) @tolkoskott @klanceiscannon14 @deos-life (grr it won’t let me tag you) @kp1183 (kperla1183) @xyuriko-akamine (akabaneyuriko) @kettnerjanea @soldier-42 @daybreakmistakes @spnfanboy777 @crash-zite @jm-cy

#male reader #avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x reader #restart #reader insert

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dracoyoflam · 3 years ago

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WML Chapter 1: One Day

A/N: This is a brand new story that I just started called 'Where's My Love'. I will try to update with new chapters as often as I can. I am also writing new chapters for the HDTH sequel so stay tuned for new chapters for that. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

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Hermione was sitting at her desk working on a pile of paperwork that had been handed to her that day and of course, had to be finished by the end of the day. She loved her job most of the time but things like this stressed her out.

‘It’s going to be another late night.’ She thought to herself, annoyed.

She pulled out a purple memo pad and started writing. She needed to let Ron know that she would be working late tonight and to make dinner plans for himself.

She wrote a quick note and sealed it shut. The paper folded up into an airplane and took off out of her office. She had been sending him interdepartmental memos that said basically the same thing far too often lately.

She felt bad about all the extra workload, but she offered to help out the department when one of their best employees left for maternity leave. Her boss thought she was up to the task and she didn’t want to let him down.

Things would lighten up soon and until then she would just have to suck it up and deal with an angry husband. Honestly, she didn’t really care as much as she should but their marriage was anything but perfect.

On the outside, everything probably looked great and everyone thought they had an amazing relationship but on the inside, their marriage was falling apart.

Ron had been distant and started pulling away a few months ago and now that she was having so many late nights at work, she could feel him pulling even further away.

She knew that she should care a lot more, but they hadn’t been truly happy in their marriage since the first year. They married too young, and they were so naïve. They thought that because of everything they had been through that it proved something. Like it was fate for them to be together but apparently, it wasn’t.

Hermione got up and grabbed the finished half of work and walked out of her office with it. She went over to the delivery system but of course, it was still broken. She wasn’t surprised. That thing had been broken for about two weeks now and there was no sign of it getting fixed any time soon.

She sighed.

‘Well, at least I can get out of that stuffy office for a few minutes.’

She started walking and got in the elevator to take her to her boss’s office. It usually only took about three minutes to make it from her office to his… not that she timed it.

She grinned a little to herself. She secretly didn’t mind that the delivery system was broken because she didn’t mind that she had to see her boss. She would never admit it but it was becoming her favorite part of her work routine.

She would never act on any of the things she felt but she loved to look at him and talk to him. He was intelligent and could carry a conversation a million times better than Ron could dream of. He also had a way of making everything feel sexy, even in their dreary office setting.

She finally exited the elevator and walked a few steps forward before turning and entering his office. He was sitting in his chair and he was focused on writing whatever it was in front of him.

He ran his hand through his blonde hair and some loose hair fell back into his face. He was clearly stressed about something, and he obviously didn’t notice her enter the office.

Hermione gently cleared her throat to get his attention. He immediately looked up and smirked at her.

“Did you miss me, Granger? This is the third time this week.” He chuckled lightly at her.

She smiled back and walked forward to set the stack of files at the end of his desk.

“Of course, I did Malfoy..” She joked. “and also, the delivery thing is still broken.” She laughed lightly.

He raised his eyebrow at her.

“That thing is still broken?” He rolled his eyes.

Then, he squinted at her and looked her up and down.

“You didn’t curse it just so you would have a reason to come see me… did you?” He asked jokingly.

She laughed at him.

“Maybe.” She simply replied as she continued to laugh.

He sighed and sat back in his chair.

“That thing will never get fixed. I’m sorry you have to keep coming up here. I’m also sorry that you got stuck with extra work again.”

He motioned to the files she had set down on his desk.

She waved him off and smiled at him.

“It’s fine. It has to get done and I don’t mind helping out where I can.”

It was the truth and she felt less aggravated about it now that she was having the best part of her day. Draco Malfoy had been promoted to her boss a couple of years ago and they worked really hard to get on good terms with each other.

If she was honest, she was proud of him as a person now. He had come a long way from who he was in school. Even Harry and Ron came around eventually, not that they had much choice. They all worked together, and he was Hermione’s boss.

They even had evenings where they would all get together and do different things. Either to a bar or sometimes over to Malfoy’s house for drinks and games.

She went to turn around and leave when he stopped her.

“Wait, Granger. Would you mind helping me out with a special project? I know you have a lot on your plate right now but…”

“I’ll do it.” She said, cutting him off before he could finish.

“You don’t even know what it is.” He laughed.

‘He’s so pretty when he smiles.’ She thought to herself.

She had to shake the thought and hoped he didn’t see the slight blush that covered her cheeks.

“It’s fine. Whatever it is. I like to help out and I know you wouldn’t ask unless it was important.”

She smiled back and he seemed to sigh in relief to her saying yes.

“Great. Thank you. I will send you the details later when I get a chance.”

She nodded her head to him.

“Sounds good. I’ve got to get back to work if I plan on finishing the last of those reports.”

She slowly turned and started walking towards the door.

“Wait.” He stood up from his chair and walked over to her.

They were both standing, facing each other in the doorway.

“Are you sure that you’re okay to be staying late and doing all this extra work? I’m sure I could figure something else out. I mean, you do have a life and a husband to get back to.”

Hermione mentally groaned. ‘What life?’ She thought sarcastically.

“It’s completely fine. I really don’t mind and I honestly don’t have much of a life outside of work anyway. As for my husband, I doubt he even notices that I’m gone.”

It fell from her lips before she could stop herself.

Her body stiffened slightly at the surprise of her accidental honesty. She cleared her throat and avoided eye contact.

“I’ve got a lot of work to get back to. Goodnight, Malfoy.” She flashed him a quick smile as she walked out of the office and back to the elevator.

‘Oh no, did I really just say that?’ She stepped into the elevator, and she closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She was tired and now embarrassed.

She groaned. ‘I could kick myself. I can’t believe I told him that.’

They were friends in a way and they liked to flirt in a fun and obvious way that they never took seriously but to put her marriage problems out in the open like that was humiliating.

She looked down at her shoes and felt a tear escape and fall to the floor. She was thankful that she was alone. It was late enough that most people in their department had already left.

She wiped her eyes and sucked in a deep breath to calm her nerves. Then, when the elevator stopped, she stepped out and rushed into her office.

‘I’m so stupid.’ She thought angrily at herself. She was completely humiliated.

She plopped down into her chair and pulled out the next folder to work on.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

About 4 hours later…

She had just finished the rest of the assignments. She rushed through the last quarter of the stack to save on time. She was really hoping that they would still be acceptable.

She usually tried to be a perfectionist about everything but she was exhausted from all the extra hours and stress at home so she figured that maybe one time, not being perfect, would be alright.

When she walked into Malfoy’s office, she was surprised to see him still sitting at his desk. She had fully expected him to be long gone and she almost screamed out when she saw him.

She almost dropped the big stack of papers in her arms and gasped out loud.

“Oh godric! You scared me. I thought everyone had gone by now.” She said as she tried to regain her footing.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. Clearly, he found it amusing.

“Sorry, just finishing up on a few things.” He got up from his chair and walked over to her.

He grabbed the large stack from her arms and walked over to his desk where he dropped them in a pile where she had placed the stack from earlier which was now gone. He sighed and dropped back into his chair.

“I hope the documents are acceptable. I wanted to get them all finished tonight so a couple of them may have been a bit rushed.” She said.

He smiled at her.

“I do not doubt that they are all perfect. Thank you again for all the extra time and work you’ve been putting in lately.”

She smiled back.

“I hope so and of course. As I said, I don’t mind helping out.”

She tried to suppress a small yawn, but he noticed and laughed softly at her.

“You are exhausted. Go home and get some rest.” He said simply.

She nodded to him. “Okay. Good night. I’m sure I will see you tomorrow.”

Then, she turned away and waved behind her as she walked out the door. She didn’t realize how tired she was until he mentioned bed. She quickly grabbed her things from her office and gradually made her way to the entrance of the Ministry where she was able to floo home.

She walked into her living room and set her things down on a corner table. She was so tired that she didn’t notice the woman’s blouse thrown on the back of the couch.

She slowly walked down the hall to their bedroom but she stopped when she thought she heard strange noises coming from inside. She quietly moved closer and leaned toward the door to hear better.

She heard a man and woman in bed, moaning and gasping with each other. She stood straight up and her mouth fell open in shock. She didn’t know what to think or what to do.

She felt her eyes burn as tears started to flow down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away and took a deep breath as she opened the door and walked inside the room.

#dramione #wheres my love #wml1 #wml #chapter 1 #romance #fanfiction #harry potter #draco malfoy #hermione granger #post hogwarts #where's my love

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gryfon-spanish-werewolf · 4 years ago

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The Choice - Part 2

Part 2 of my elsanna Hulder/Valkyrie au :D I know I said I’d make them 1-1.5k but I guess my sweet spot is 2-3k ¯\_(^^;)_/¯ Good for y’all

I highly recommend reading Chapter 1 and/or the original concept for context because this chapter picks up EXACTLY where we left off. And I do mean exactly. ao3 and ff.net links are up too!

Shout out to @like-red-lads again for indulging me in the concept, @giuliaciulia89 bc I know you’ve been waiting patiently for this one, and a quick spike for @snowmanmelting since you asked ever so politely for a notification of publishing 💖

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The woman who still crouched naked in the water leveled a glare at the Valkyrie. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Anna felt like someone had wedged the padding of her armor directly into her skull. Her thoughts zipped too and fro, bouncing off the sides while whatever still sane part of her brain jumped desperately in the middle, trying to grab even one coherent thought.

Who are you? Well that’s easy, I’m Anna, the Valkyrie! Wait no, no, I can’t say that, humans that are still alive can’t know that.

What are you doing here? So funny story - I felt like I needed to be here and find you and I know why but I can't tell you or you won’t believe me, or maybe worse you will believe me and then we’re still stuck because-

Life or Death?

This question was causing the most trouble. Anna felt the answer gallop up her throat again, only for it to wilt and corkscrew off somewhere else as it neared the tip of her tongue. It leaped up her legs and tornado’d around her insides like a rock trapped in a gale, bruising everything it touched, but still it didn’t make itself known to her. It was a pressure, the kind that rattled the lid of a pot over-boiling above the cookfire.

Anna shook her head, feeling more than a little dizzy. The remaining part of her brain that was still running around for a legitimate answer grew tired as well and sat down, which prompted Anna to do the same, plopping down onto the rock below her feet in an unceremonious heap. The woman across from her flinched.

“I guess I mean,” Anna replied slowly as she crossed her arms over her chest, “that I really don’t know. And that’s never happened before.”

The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Which part?”

“All of them. Oh!” Anna pounded her fist into her palm. “Except the first question, I can answer that one. I’m Anna!” She grinned broadly, just like she had for the warrior in the battlefield. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” the woman groused, “but considering the circumstances, you will have to forgive me for not feeling the same.”

“It’s certainly odd,” Anna mused aloud, putting her chin in her hand. She missed the other woman’s exasperated expression entirely. “Today started out so normal but now everything is strange.”

“That I can agree with.”

“I know!” Anna threw her arms out. “First there was the fight, then my plans changed without warning and I miss my ride home, then I stumble-sprint through the forest following your voice and now you’re talking to me and--!” Anna pulled up short.

She was having a conversation with a human.

A live human.

Which meant…

“Hey, this is going to sound like a trick question but, you can see me, right?”

The woman blinked, a furrow deepening between her brows. “That… does seem like a trick question.” Anna waited patiently, and saw the moment the other woman realized she would have to answer: a defeated drop of her shoulders. “Yes. Yes I can see you.”

“Oh good!” Anna chirped. “I mean uh, not good, actually,” she frowned and looked to the side, thinking. “Well not baaaad.” Anna bobbed her hands in front of her, as though physically weighing the implications on a scale. “Just… unexpected, y’know?”

The look on the blonde’s face told Anna that she did not, in fact, know.

“I… can imagine that thinking you can’t be seen, only to be seen, would be… unexpected,” was the diplomatic reply.

But Anna had already retreated back into her own head, her mini-me having rested long enough to start picking up the pieces and sorting them into piles. Piles of Normal, piles of Weird, and piles of Highly Irregular.

Being seen by a living human was definitely Highly Irregular.

Maybe something had gone wrong with the magic today, or by leaving the company of her sisters the cloaking spell had frayed and broken with distance. Regardless, if this woman did not suspect Anna’s true nature, then she supposed it wasn’t a big deal. She still had the largest issue at hand anyway.

Again the Choice stirred under the skin of her palms, racing past her funny bone in a jolt and stinging the junction of shoulder and neck before disappearing like a snuffed candle.

“Any update on that second part,” a voice startled Anna from her thoughts, “or are we free to move on with our lives?” The woman in the water had started to shiver, goosebumps covering her arms and legs.

“I’m sorry!” Anna jumped up and reached out. “Here, let me help you up.”

The blonde looked at her hand like it was a poisonous snake. “I’m more than capable of getting out myself, thank you.” Her gaze flicked back up to Anna’s, “Especially because you won’t tell me why you’re here. Or you can’t remember, which I can’t say is any better.”

“Oh, right, well…” Anna withdrew her hand and rubbed the back of her neck instead. “I’ll let you do that then.”

A beat passed before something seemed to click in the woman’s brain. “You’re just going to stand there?”

“Huh? Yeah?” Anna cocked her head, “I mean, we’re both women.”

“We’re also strangers,” the woman responded, grinding the final word between her teeth.

“Sure but, it’s not a big deal, I’ve seen plenty of naked women.”

This time it was the blonde who blushed, making her hair stand out more starkly against her reddened skin. “Right,” she said flatly. “Be that as it may, if you’re so determined to stay I’d prefer it if you at least turned around.”

“I… of course. If it makes you more comfortable.” Anna spun on her heel, her back to the water. Throughout their conversation, the strength of the tugging had ebbed, less a riptide and more a kitten batting at a string of yarn, pulling against the middle vertebrae of her spine.

If the woman replied it was lost in the swoosh and splatter of water as she moved from the middle of the stream to the bank. Anna heard the droplets of water splash onto the rocks below, sometimes more, sometimes less. Perhaps she was wringing out her hair.

“Don’t peek,” the woman scolded.

“I wasn’t going to!”

“Prove it. Close your eyes.”

Anna nearly turned around to answer in spite, but caught herself and set her eyes straight into the trees. “I’m already facing away from you, isn’t closing my eyes a little much?” But Anna did as she was told.

“No,” came the muffled reply, as though the woman had turned away from her, also. There was a ruffle of cloth and the sounds of dressing, the clasp of a belt and the slide of shoes.

And then there was the knife.

It was nearly impossible for someone of Anna’s age and battle prowess to mistake the sound of a blade leaving it’s sheathe. And even if she had, the tether pressing against her back suddenly ignited - combusting, roaring and leaping against her like a brush fire.

In a heartbeat Anna whirled around, knees bent and legs spread apart. The woman stood before her a few feet away, now dressed, though water still dripped from her legs and soaked the fabric of her dress at the collar. Between them was a hunting knife, pointed at Anna’s heart.

“You’re armed!?” Anna blurted out.

“Isn’t everyone?” The woman called back, gesturing with the tip of the knife to Anna’s waist before aiming right back at her center. “And so are you, by the way.”

“Yes but that’s because I’m--!” Anna clapped a hand over her mouth in the nick of time. She couldn’t just say she was a Valkyrie, there had to be some kind of rule against that.

“A warrior, I know.” The woman scoffed. Anna swore for a moment her eyes flashed like the glint of sea rime at dawn but it was gone just as fast. “Come from the battle up the hill have you? Is that why you won’t tell me what you’re doing here, you’re not sure whose side I’m on? Whether I’ll run away from you or into your arms? Or are you a deserter? Tucking your tail between your legs and winding up here, caught without a backup plan?”

“Yes! No. What? Absolutely not. A-And no! In that order!” Anna straightened, rubbing a hand on her temple. Her head was starting to ache, not just from the situation (which was already far, far beyond what she’d ever imagined), but from the strain of the pull on her body. Never had it lasted so long or been so overwhelming. It trod up her sternum and into her throat, dancing along the edges of her jaw. Anna ground the heel of her forward foot into the rock below, needing to physically restrain herself from walking forward. The woman noticed her shift in posture and took a half step back. “Yes, I came from the battle,” Anna said, taking a deep breath. “But not because I was involved in it. I came here because… because I needed to find you. Because I heard you singing.”

Well that was true enough, Anna thought to herself. “Who lives and who dies is important to me,” she continued, finding her way through the half truths that would have to bear her along, like stepping stones made from clouds. “But equally important is that those who are not destined for combat are spared. That those whose lives are decided by other things are not drawn into battle needlessly.”

The woman knelt slowly, keeping her front towards Anna at all times while retrieving a bag from behind a rock. She slung it over her shoulder before speaking. “Oh, so you are a judge, too,” she said icily. “Well then decide. But bear in mind - your choice is not the only one guiding my fate today.”

Decide. Choose.

The words barked in Anna's head, bayed like hounds on the scent. The Choice bore down on her again, like the stones that crushed guilty men, one on top of another.

“My name is Anna,” she said gravely, drawing upon the power with which she made Choices before the war drums had even played their first beat.

“Part one,” the woman counted, standing tall.

“I came here to solve a mystery, to find whomever was at the end of a string… a song.”

“Part two…”

Anna felt it, the Choice zinging up her arm, raising the hairs on her neck, feeling the thrum of her heart in her chest. It was time.

“And I choose... to let you go.”

Silence passed between them, and then the woman frowned, the tip of her knife dropping just slightly. “What?”

“I mean, I never meant to keep you here, and I’m sorry that you felt threatened.” Anna placed as much compassion as she could muster into her words, which was quite a lot. One didn’t get good at comforting dead souls by being callous for hundreds of years. Besides, this woman was only human, and if there was a problem with Choosing, that wasn’t her folly but Anna’s, and something she needed to investigate on her own. “You must live somewhere nearby?” Anna coaxed. “The village southwest of here perhaps, down the hills? I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you safe. I won’t tell anyone you were here, just in case. But it’s not safe to stick around. You should go back home.”

“Home…” The word fell oddly from the blonde’s lips. “Yes I-, I’ll do that.”

Anna rocked back on her heels, hands settling genially on her hips. Despite the draw she still felt between her and this woman, it was manageable now. She wasn’t sure what she was going to tell her fellow Valkyries about this, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

“If it’s all the same to you,” the woman said, interrupting Anna’s thoughts, “I’ll wait until you leave. You’ve made yourself more trustworthy than you first appeared, but I’d not like to take chances.”

Anna smiled despite the scrutiny. “Well I was going to offer to walk you home, but you seem like you can take care of yourself. That knife has hardly lowered once.”

“I think that’s a genuine compliment, for which I’ll say, ‘thank you’.” The flicker of a smile came and went in the dappled sunlight across the woman’s face, so quickly Anna almost missed it. “Don’t take this the wrong way… Anna,” the woman spoke as Anna began walking back into the forest, “but I hope I never see you again.”

The Valkyrie’s heart trilled at the use of her name, even as sadness dampened it’s cheer. It was entirely possible they’d never meet again. Perhaps on the next morn, battle long over, Anna would wake and the pull would disappear completely. Freed from the burden of Choice until it came around next time, for someone new. Though, Anna hadn’t been lying when she said she’d arrived following a mystery. And mysteries hated going unsolved.

But for now she trudged through the trees back toward the hill, throwing a last hand over her shoulder in farewell.

With each step the tug grew lighter and lighter - a snag, a tap, a whisper across the room, until finally it was only noticeable if she concentrated.

Clear frost filigree inside a spyglass.

------

Elsa waited until the Valkyrie was long out of sight. She sheathed her knife only when birdsong came back to the wood, and with that movement went the last of her strength.

She fell to her hands and knees, trembling.

A Valkyrie. A Valkyrie had come looking for her.

In all her years, all her centuries of life, Elsa had never been so close to one. She knew who they were and to whom they were sworn. What they dedicated their life to. Reaping souls for the glory of another war and leaving the rest to rot.

Elsa breathed heavily, her brave and icy façade melting as her lungs begged for air to quell the panic in her heart. She’d made a mistake reacting to the Valkyrie's presence, even if it had been a genuine surprise. Humans couldn’t see Valkyries, and if Elsa wanted to remain hidden, she needed to keep pretending she was human.

But the Valkyrie… Anna..., had seemed distracted too. Something had been bothering her, or maybe even hurting her.

Yet she’d been armed, and knew how to use the sword at her hip. She was a woman who decided whether a person would continue on to see the sunset or not.

Even though she’d been kind, Elsa had not been willing to take the risk.

Elsa’s jaw clenched, her hands forming fists, drawing lines in the sand and loose dirt of the riverbank. She’d been clumsy but she hadn’t been caught. Her secret was safe, for now. The Valkyrie still thought she was nothing but an innocent woman, bathing too close to a battlefield.

She gathered the rest of her things, not that she had many. It was time to disappear and lay low for a while. The song she was singing before came back to her mind, but now it felt tainted so she didn’t even hum. Her malaise showed despite her best efforts however, in the irritable swish and flick of her tail beneath her dress.

That is when she had felt the most terror. Anna had not just come upon her naked in flesh, but in spirit.

Every moment she’d crouched in the water had been eons in her mind. Her muscles still ached with the effort of keeping her tail wound around her calf and ankle. Praying that the Valkyrie would have the modesty not to look, or if she didn’t, to be unable to see through the ripples in the water.

Coupled with the intense need to keep her front to Anna’s at all times, lest she see her back, left Elsa with hardly enough energy to stand.

That’s why Elsa had asked her to close her eyes, even with her back turned. She couldn’t trust the Valkyrie’s word, not when Elsa didn’t know the true reason she’d come. While her lie about following a song hadn’t been entirely false, it certainly wasn’t the whole truth. At least Anna had complied with her request. Elsa wasn’t sure what she’d have done if she hadn’t.

Probably disappear into thin air.

But that would have been more suspicious, and Elsa had known she still had a chance to ward off the preoccupied Valkyrie. Though she’d been successful, that triumph, in its wake, only made her light headed, with nerves so bundled up in her core she felt nauseous.

Elsa checked her surroundings one last time before reaching out in front of her, a little above her head. She felt for a Seam, running the pads of her fingers up and down, along divots and warps until she found one and pulled. An opening appeared before her, like a drape pulled away from a window. Inside the world was muted, duller, quieter.

Elsa took one last breath of fresh air before she stepped inside, feeling the doorway close behind her.

After all, the Hulder did say she’d go home.

#The Choice #The Choice Part 2 #my writing #mythical creature au #Valkyrie!Anna #Hulder!Elsa #elsanna #must I always publish these late at night where they won''t get notes xD #yes the answer is yes #(I'm joking I just always want to publish the moment I'm done and that tends to be late xD)

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 years ago

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You can count on me (I will be there for you)

Another week, another YCCOM chapter! It’s a long update as well, feat Alya, fake-Adrien, oblivious and melodramatic Marinette, and Chat Noir (who is also a little oblivious because it’s fun) 👀

Hope you enjoy! xx

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | AO3

---

Chapter 5

Marinette doesn’t really pay attention during the bridal party toasts. She’s lost in her thoughts, giggles when others seem to, and drowns the very present realisation that she might be sitting two chairs away from her blackmailer in champagne.

She doesn’t notice how fidgety Alya is during her Maid of Honour speech, or her sideway glances when she makes puns that earn her eye squints from Adrien. Those go unnoticed, too.

She temporarily jolts back to reality when Adrien wraps an arm around her waist and leans his head on her shoulder during a very emotional part of Nino’s speech (or so she assumes, from the audience’s aws). And then, again, when the warmth leaves, as he stands up and takes the mic.

At that moment, she can’t help but look up to him and his hypnotising smile. He’s holding her hand as he speaks, and it feels like he’s talking exclusively to her as his eyes bore into hers. Unfortunately, she’s too lost in his green glittering gaze to make out what he’s saying.

She can tell it must be beautiful from the oohs and aahs she hears in the crowd (out of her peripheral vision, Sabine wipes her tears away, and so does Tom - there is no such emotional scene on the Agreste side), but as much as she tries to, she just cannot bring herself to listen. There’s something about Adrien's eyes that’s so familiar. She drowns in their tenderness. She can’t put her finger on it, but something hurts a little inside of her at that moment, there’s a yearning for something that she can’t deny. So much so, that it pulls tears out of her eyes as Adrien tells her, for the whole country, perhaps the whole world, to hear “I love you, Marinette Agreste. As Chat Noir and Ladybug say, it’s you and me against the world. And I am beyond honoured to be on your team.”

She isn’t sure if it counts as bad taste.

At the end of his speech, she gets up, pulls him into a hug, and nuzzles against his neck, the tears still streaming down her cheeks. He tilts her chin up gently to check on her, smiling lovingly at her, and she kisses him.

It’s what a good wife would do.

And that’s what she’s supposed to be today. Not a scheming superhero, waiting for the right opportunity to bolt bad guys behind jail bars, instead of making the most of her wedding day. Not a woman who sees the almost-too-perfect execution of a play she helped stage, which makes her question if the male lead won’t end up broken-hearted by the end of it.

After they’re done eating the delicious lunch, the catering of which was supervised by none other than Tom and Sabine, she drags Adrien off towards a balcony with a very convincing giggle (the champagne, she supposes). Adrien follows her eagerly before he notices that he forgot his phone at the table. She tells him to hurry as she steps outside. The cool air does wonders to sober her up.

Chat Noir makes it to their meeting point before Adrien does, a little out of breath. Marinette smiles at him. This will be quick. It has to be, for Adrien’s sake.

“Hey, guys, sorry to keep you waiting.” The groom says as he carefully closes the door behind him.

“No worries, dude.” Chat Noir smiles warmly. “Well done on the speech, it was really beautiful.”

“Well, anything for Marinette, right?” Adrien turns towards her and she blushes.

“Beautiful speech indeed.” She clears her throat. “Unfortunately,” well, maybe not for me, since I couldn't highlight any phrase to save my life she thinks, “we’re not here to delve into it right now.”

“Is everything alright?” Adrien frowns.

“Well…” Marinette scrunches her nose and shares a glance with Chat Noir. “We’ve had news on the blackmail situation.” Better to bite the bullet now. They’ll have plenty of time to chat later.

“Oh. Bad?” Adrien bites his lip.

“It’s really too early to tell,” Chat Noir replies. “But we have a lead, and we have to act fast.”

“I see.” Adrien nods. “How fast, exactly?”

“We have to take a quick trip somewhere. We’ll be back before you know it, don’t worry.” Marinette says. “Perks of having a Miraculous.”

“Then that’s no problem, girl!” Adrien smiles. “I’ll hold down the fort while you two are gone.”

Marinette frowns. He doesn’t usually call her “girl”. That’s more of an Alya thing.

She doesn’t catch Chat Noir shooting a thunderous stare at Rena Rouge, hiding behind curtains two windows down. The foxy lady grimaces sheepishly and mouths a “sorry” in his direction.

“Er… Sorry, I think my conversation with Alya, and then her speech, rubbed off on me.” Adrien scratches the back of his neck.

“Oh, right. Yeah, that happens to me too, sometimes.” Marinette shakes her head with a small smile, and both Chat and Rena let out a small sigh of relief as she changes the subject. “Anyway, our goal is to make it back before the first dance, so you won’t be alone for too long. I’m going to get Rena Rouge to join you, to make my absence more inconspicuous.”

“Sounds good.” Adrien and Chat Noir nod.

“So I just need to speak to Alya, and then Max before we go.” Marinette strokes her chin.

“I can go and get Alya!” Adrien’s hand shoots up, almost brushing against Chat Noir’s. The latter jumps away, afraid that the illusion might break.

“That would be great, thanks.” Marinette smiles softly.

He disappears off before she can tell him how grateful she is that he is so understanding, but not before he can shoot her a very longing look, one that reminds her of the way he used to look at her sometimes back in collège.

She sits down on the bannister, breathing in and out deeply as her fear of breaking his heart strikes again. Chat Noir joins her, taking her right hand in his.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” He asks, gently tracing circles on the back of her hand.

“Okay, I guess.” She shrugs. “Just getting a little antsy about all this. You have the Miraculouses?”

“Yep.” He pats his pocket, making it jingle slightly.

“Good.”

Her leg bounces as they wait. She seems more on edge than her partner had anticipated, but it could be because of the great performance Alya provided. As perfect as fake-Adrien’s way of looking at Marinette would have been in public, he thought it was a little over the top in this instance. And anyway, when had Alya ever seen him look so love-struck?

“Hey Chaton?” Marinette breaks her tense silence and his thoughts.

“Yes?”

“You don’t suppose Adrien might… love me, do you?” Her eyes are wide with worry, and Chat doesn’t know whether to burst out laughing, hug her, or let the melt-inducing smile he can feel coming on invade his face. None of this transpires as he stares back at her blankly, lips only slightly twitching.

“It’s just… the toasts. I didn’t catch most of it, but his feelings looked so… real.” She breathes out.

Chat Noir lets himself laugh. “You do realise that a couple of hours ago, you were worried he would bail, and now you’ve done a full 180° by thinking he might be too invested, right?” He teases.

“I know, I know, it’s stupid, right?” She lets out a tense chuckle as she shakes her head. “You’d think I could read my husband better than that.” The cheekiness of her small smile isn’t as strong as it could be, but Chat Noir will take it all the same.

“He’ll be fine, I paw-mise.” He smiles tenderly, considering whether telling her that her second reading isn’t far off at all would be saying a little too much, or if he could get away with it.

He doesn’t have time to reach a conclusion. There’s a small knock on the window pane, and Alya lets herself out on the balcony. Marinette gets up and he follows suit.

“Hey, girl! Adrien said you were looking for me?” Alya’s pace is breezy as she walks towards them, until her eyes land on him. She stops in her tracks with an audible gasp. “Chat Noir? What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes at her dramatic entrance, but smirks as she comes to stand beside him. “Hi, Ladyblogger.”

“Hey Alya, thanks for joining us.” Marinette clears her throat. “I’m going to cut to the chase. We’ve got a bit of a situation, which is why you and Chat are here.”

“Is that so?” Alya crosses her arms behind her back. She gently nudges Chat, who discreetly extends a hand towards her. Alya places the necklace in it, and he subtly slides it back into his pocket.

“Yes.” Marinette takes a deep breath and wrings her hands as she mentally prepares herself to give her best friend the information she’s been looking for for almost as long as she’s known her, completely oblivious to the silent hand off taking place in front of her. “Alya, I have something important to tell you. I’m really sorry for not telling you earlier, but I swore not to tell anyone. I promise that I really didn’t want to keep this secret from you, I-”

“This sounds serious, are you ill, or something?” Alya cuts her in her rambling, doing her best to act clueless and concerned, even though Chat Noir can tell that she’s practically buzzing with excitement.

“No, it’s nothing like that, don’t worry. It’s pretty small, all things considered.” She pauses. “I’m… I’m Ladybug.” She whispers gently, wincing as she anticipates her best friend’s reaction.

“WHAT?!” Alya’s exclamation is a little too loud, her smile a little too wide for it to be completely genuine. Chat Noir elbows her ribs to remind her to tone it down. She makes up for the lack of volume with extra theatrics. “You mean, all this time, I was so close, and you never even gave me a hint?” She clutches her chest. “You watched me dig around, for years, knowing that I was going in a completely wrong direction?” She gasps. “You even mislead me on some of my paths!”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry!” Marinette grimaces.

“I feel so stupid!” Alya fake sobs, bringing a hand to her forehead. “What else have you been hiding from me all this time? That Chat Noir is actually Adrien?”

Marinette stares at her blankly for a second, before bursting out laughing. Chat Noir knows it must be nerves, but he can’t help but feel a little offended that the thought has tears streaming down her face, struggling to catch her breath. He shoots another death glare at Alya (what are you playing at?), to which she answers by a shrug and a smirk (sometimes things are best hidden in plain sight).

“No, I’ve seen them together, so it isn't possible.” Marinette wheezes, standing straight and nudging Chat Noir. “Can you imagine, though? That would have made everything so much easier.” She wipes her tears and takes Chat Noir’s hand in hers. “I don’t know who Chaton is. We’re waiting until Hawkmoth is defeated to drop his mask. Which actually might come about a lot faster than we thought it would.”

“I see.” Alya squints suspiciously. “By the way, you two seem pretty chummy, care to explain yourself, Mrs. Agreste?”

Marinette winces. It’s one thing being called Marinette Agreste, but it feels a lot weirder being called Mrs Agreste. “Well, see, Adrien and I are just a temporary arrangement.” She pauses. “He knows, and he's fine with it, though. I think. Anyway, you would’ve found out eventually, but I’m telling you now because I actually need you for something.” She changes the subject to escape further inquiry.

She quickly goes over the circumstances of their speedy wedding, leaving out none of the details regarding the blackmail and her suspicions. Alya regularly peppers in some gasps and “no!”s, convincingly pretending all of it is brand new information to her. Her reactions become more genuine as Marinette talks her through their plan to go and investigate the Agreste Mansion while the coast is clear.

“We haven’t told Adrien where we’re going, so he’ll be staying here.” Marinette exposes.

“Shocker.”

“But we’d need you to make sure my absence goes unnoticed. I’m giving you free rein, you can do whatever you feel necessary.” She nods towards Chat Noir, who takes out the Fox necklace and gives it ceremoniously to Alya.

“Adrien is going to be hiding out in a room and I can do anything to make it credible that you two are together?” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “I thought I was supposed to give you a gift today.” She grins.

Marinette’s cheeks heat up at the insinuation.

“Just remember our- THEIR parents are around, as well as the press so… Saying Marinette and Adrien are off for a nap might be sufficient, no need to be over the top.” Chat winks.

Alya looks at him inquisitively, and mouths “our?”. He shakes his head. He can slip up, too. Marinette doesn’t pick up on any of this, again. Chat isn’t sure how he feels about her being so absentminded. If the situation wasn’t as urgent as it was, he’d probably make his identity one of her wedding presents. It would relieve the stress, no doubt.

Unfortunately, the situation is what it is, and they can’t afford to lose any time when they're running on such a tight schedule. Besides, he’s afraid the revelation might put her off her game even more, at this point.

“Wait, so if I’m in your room with Adrien,” Alya puts her hand up like they’re still in school, “and you’re at the Agreste Mansion… Who’s watching our pals Gabe and Nath?”

“Nobody, why?” Marinette frowns.

“I just think it might be a good idea to have them surveilled in case they try to make a getaway. You never know what you might find.” She rubs her chin pensively. “Something in your whole blackmail story smells kind of fishy.”

“You think so?”

“Well, let’s put it this way; what could Gabriel Agreste possibly gain from blackmailing you?”

Her question is met by silence. Marinette shares a glance with Chat Noir, before looking at her feet. Once again, she regrets how quickly the events have taken place since she received the first letters. Had it not been so rushed, maybe Chat and her would have settled down for a minute, to consider that question. Whoever the blackmailer was, he must have wanted something.

“Do you think he might be in contact with Hawkmoth?” Chat Noir’s voice comes out as a strained whisper.

“I wouldn’t rule out that possibility.” Alya continues carefully. “I mean, if he leaked your identity to the press, or used any public communication to get the info out to Hawkmoth and Mayura, then I assume you’d give up your Miraculous, right? And the city would probably grant you some kind of protection for your outstanding services during the years; if not the Mayor himself, then at least the citizens. You saw how quick they were to help on Heroes’ Day, all those years ago.”

“Right.” Marinette mutters.

Seeing that her friend is not going to elaborate more, Alya continues. “So, my bet is that whoever’s blackmailing you, be it Gabriel or somebody else, is somehow in contact with Hawkmoth, and is standing by to send him your identity if you don’t cooperate. Hand him the element of surprise on a silver plate. What does the bastard want?”

“Nothing.” Marinette whispers, hiding her head in her hands. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice earlier.”

She takes a deep, shaky breath as her heart rate picks up.

This is taking proportions she didn’t foresee. Part of her feels like panicking, what a disaster of a wedding, the other reminds her that even if everything had gone differently, she probably still wouldn’t have felt ready.

She feels Chat Noir stroking her back soothingly, and she straightens up. She’s not alone. She’s got him, Alya, Adrien, and a whole dormant team of superheroes a few feet away. They can do it, together.

“Thanks for your insight, Alya.” She takes her hand and squeezes it. “I think I- we" she glances at Chat Noir, "were a little too close to the board to see the whole situation.”

“Always happy to help, girl.” Alya smiles back.

“Chaton? We’re going to need back up.” Marinette turns towards Chat Noir.

“One step ahead of you, my Lady.” He grins as he holds up the Turtle bracelet and the Dragon necklace.

Marinette smiles at him gratefully. He sees her face change as the plan she'd come up with earlier shifted in her head to take the new elements into account, her eyes squinting to see inside the room, nose scrunched what he likes to call the Lucky Charm way.

His Lady is back, and if her confident smile as she explains the first steps of the plan says anything, she’s ready to kick some butt.

#now onto writing chapter 6 #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #mlb #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #adrienette #adrinette #fake wedding #ladynoir #marichat #i don't know at this point #alya césaire #one-sided reveal #aged-up characters #inspired by fanart #elle writes #yccom

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rocknvaughn · 4 years ago

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New Colin Morgan Interview with Edge Media Network about Benjamin - UPDATED

I am reblogging this because, after the author was made aware of an error in the posting of his article (if anyone clicked through to read it on the site, there was a whole question and answer that was repeated), the error was corrected and another three questions and answers were added! I am correcting it here, but they were very interesting, so I suggest you read the full article again!

I shall post the link at the bottom, but I wanted to type it out so that non-English speakers could more easily translate it. (This article was listed in their “Gay News” section of the site, hence the focus on the gay roles.)

British Actor Colin Morgan: How the Queerly Idiosyncratic ‘Benjamin’ Spoke to Him

by Frank J. Avelia

In writer-director Simon Amstell’s sweet, idiosyncratic, semi-autobiographical comedy, “Benjamin,” Colin Morgan plays the titular character, an insecure filmmaker trying to resuscitate his waning career (at least it’s waning in his mind) after one major cine-indie success. Benjamin is also doing his best to navigate a new relationship with a young French musician (Phenix Brossard of “Departures”).

Thanks to the truly endearing, multifaceted talents of Morgan, Benjamin feels like an authentic creation--one that most audiences can empathize with. Sure, he’s peculiar, has a legion of self-esteem issues and an almost exasperating need for acceptance as well as an inconvenient talent to self-sabotage the good in his life. But who can’t relate to some or all of that?

“Benjamin” is one of the better queer-themed films to come out in recent years, in large part because it eschews emphasis on the queer nature of the story. Instead, the film is a fascinating character study with Morgan slowly revealing layers and unpacking Benjamin’s emotional baggage.

Morgan is a major talent who has been appearing across mediums in Britain for many years. His London theatre debut was in DBC Pierre’s satire, “Vernon God Little” (2007), followed by the stage adaptation of Pedro Almodovar’s “All About My Mother” (2007), opposite Diana Rigg. Numerous and eclectic stage work followed (right up until the Corona shutdown) including Pedro Miguel Rozo’s “Our Private Life” (2011), where he played a bipolar gay, Jez Butterworth’s dark comedy, “Mojo” (2013), Arthur Miller’s “All My Sons” opposite Sally Field (2019), and Caryl Churchill’s “A Number” (2020), to name a few.

His TV work includes, “Merlin” (playing the wizard himself), “Humans” and most recently, in a very memorable episode of “The Crown”. Onscreen he can be seen in “Testament of Youth”, “Legend” with Tom Hardy, “Snow White and the Huntsman” and Rupert Everett’s take on Oscar Wilde, “The Happy Prince.”

He’s played a host of gay roles in the past on stage, screen and TV.

EDGE recently interviewed the star of “Benjamin” about the new film and his career.

Why Benjamin?

EDGE: What drew you to this project and were you part of its development?

Colin Morgan: It’s always the strength of the script for me on any project and Simon’s script was just so well observed, he managed to combine humor and poignancy in delicate measure and when I first read it I found myself being both tickled and touched. Then reading it again and from “the actor” POV... I knew it would be a real challenge and uncharted territory for me to explore. I auditioned for Simon and we tried it in different ways and then when I was lucky enough for Simon to want me on board, we began to work through the script together, because it was clear that this was going to be a very close working relationship... it was important for the level of trust to be high.

EDGE: I appreciated that this was a queer love story where the character’s queerness wasn’t the main focus. Was that also part of the allure of the project?

CM: I think Benjamin’s sexuality is just quite naturally who he is and therefore that’s a given, we’re on his journey to find meaning and love and there’s certainly a freshness to what Simon has written in not making sexuality the main focus.

Great chemistry

EDGE: Can you speak a but about the process involved in working with Amstell on the character and his journey?

CM: Simon and me worked very closely over a period of weeks, at that time prior to shooting I was doing a theatre project not far from where he lived so I would go to him and rehearse and discuss through the whole script all afternoon before going to do the show that night, so that worked out well. It’s so personal to Simon, and to have had him as my guide and source throughout was fantastic because I could ask him all the questions and he could be the best barometer for the truth of the character; a rare opportunity for an actor and one that was so essential for building Benjamin. But ultimately Simon wanted Benjamin to emerge from somewhere inside me and he gave me so much freedom to do that also.

EDGE: You had great chemistry with Phenix Brossard. Did you get to rehearse?

CM: Phenix is fantastic, Simon and me did chemistry reads with a few different actors who were all very good but Phenix just had an extra something we felt Benjamin would be drawn to. We did a little bit of rehearsal together but because it was a relationship that was trying to find itself there was a lot of room for spontaneity and uncertainty between us, which is what the allure of a new relationship is all about, the excitement and fear.

Liberating process

EDGE: Did your process meld with Amstell’s?

CM: I’ve said this a lot before and it’s true, Simon is one of the best directors I’ve worked with. Everything he created before shooting and then maintained on set was special. We always did improvised versions of most scenes and always the scripted version too. It was such a creative and liberating process. That is exactly the way I love to work. And for a director to maintain that level of bravery, trust and experimental play throughout the whole shoot stands as one of the most rewarding shooting experiences I’ve had.

EDGE: When I spoke with Rupert Everett about “The Happy Prince,” he very proudly boasted about his ensemble. Can you speak about working with Rupert as he balanced wearing a number of creative hats?

CM: Again, this was an extremely rewarding project to work on and quite a similar relationship as with Simon in the respect that Rupert was the writer/director and Oscar Wilde is so personal to him. And then we also had many scenes together in front of the camera, so Rupert and me had a real 3D experience together. It was a long time in the making. I was on board, I think, two years before we actually got shooting so I had a lot of time to work with Rupert and rehearse. He really inspired me, watching him wear all the different creative hats, such a challenging and difficult job/jobs to achieve and he really excelled--plus we just got on very well.

Playing queer roles

EDGE: You haven’t shied away from playing queer roles. Do you think we’re moving closer to a time when a person’s sexual orientation is of little consequence to the stories being told, or should it always matter? Or perhaps we need to continue to evolve as a culture for it to matter less or not at all...

CM: That’s a hard question to answer, I think certainly the shift in people’s attitudes has changed considerably for the better compared to 40 years ago, but there will always be resistance to change and acceptance from individuals and groups whether it be sexuality, religion, race, gender--we’re seeing it every day.

Evolution is, of course, inevitable, but if we can learn from the past as we evolve that would be the ideal. Unfortunately, we rarely do learn, and history repeats itself.

EDGE: You were featured prominently in one of my favorite episodes of the “The Crown” (”Bubbikins”) as the fictional journo John Armstrong. Can you speak a bit about working on the show and with the great Jane Lapotaire?

CM: I had an exceptionally good time working on “The Crown.” Director Benjamin Caron, especially, was so prepared and creative, and made the whole experience so welcoming and inclusive. It was an incredibly happy set, with extremely talented people in every department, and I admired the ethos of the whole production and have no doubt that’s a huge ingredient to its success, along with Peter Morgan’s incredible writing.

I was also a fan of the show, and it was an honor to be part of the third season. And I can’t say enough amazing things about Jane Lapotaire. We talked a lot in between filming, and I relished every moment of that.

EDGE: You’ve done a ton of stage work. Do you have a favorite role you’ve played onstage?

CM: I’ve been so lucky with the theatre work I’ve done, to work with such special directors and work in wonderful theatres in London. I’ve worked at the Old Vic and The Young Vic twice each, and they’re always special to me. Ian Rickson is a liberating director, who I love. It’s hard to pick a favorite, because the roles have all been so different and presented different challenges, but, most recently, doing “A Number,” playing three different characters alongside Roger Allam and directed by Polly Findlay, was a really treasured experience, and I never tired of doing that show, every performance was challenging as it was.

Miss the rehearsal room

EDGE: You were doing “A Number” earlier this year. Did you finish your run before the lockdown/shutdown?

CM: Just about! We had our final performance, and then lockdown happened days later. I feel very sorry for the productions that didn’t get the sense of completion of finishing a run. I mean, finishing a full run leaves you in a kind of post-show void anyway, even though you know it’s coming, so to not know it’s coming and have it severed must be even more of a void.

Memories of performing just months ago seem like such an unattainable thing in this COVID world right now. I can’t tell you how much I’m hoping we get back to some semblance of live performance.

EDGE: What was it like to appear onstage opposite Dame Diana Rigg in “All About My Mother?”

CM: Well, I think “iconic” is an apt word for both the experience of working with Diana and the lady herself. In between scenes backstage we used to talk a lot and we got told off for talking too loudly, so Diana began to teach me sign language and we would spell out words to each other, maybe only getting a couple of sentences to each other before she was due on stage and I had to get into position for my next entrance-- we did a radio play together two years ago and she remembered, she said, “Do you remember A-E-I-O-U?” signing out the letters with her hands.

EDGE: None of us knows the future in terms of the pandemic and when we might return to making theatre. I’m a playwright myself and find it all supremely frustrating but I’m trying to remain hopeful! Where are you right now in terms of the standstill we are in and what the future might hold?

CM: Yes, I’m so worried for theatre. It’s a devastating blow. I’m sure as a playwright, you know that the creative spirit in individuals hasn’t been diminished by this virus. People are creating important art in this crisis but we need the platforms to present it and bring people to some light again out of this really scary period, but it needs to be safe and it’s a worrying time. The virtual theatre approach must be looked at I think. We need to experiment and find new paths at least for the time being. I’m involved in developing some things right now and how we can work on things in both an isolated and collaborative way. It’s entirely counterintuitive to what the family-feel and close bond of a group in a rehearsal room is like-- I miss the rehearsal room so much!-- but we can’t sit still, we must create and we must act.

What’s in a role?

EDGE: Looking back on the great success of “Merlin,” what are your takeaways from that experience?

CM: Some of the most treasured memories of my life will forever be connected to “Merlin,” the cast, crew, production, everyone! The invaluable training of being in front of a camera every day! The chance to inhabit a character and live with him for five seasons! There’s too much to list and words probably won’t do justice anyway, but I’m truly grateful for everything the show gave me.

EDGE: How do you select the roles you play?

CM: I guess they select me in a way. I can’t play a role unless it speaks to me and provokes me in some way, but ultimately it’s the characters that I have a fear about playing, not knowing how I’m going to enter into the process of living them, when I don’t have all the answers it’s a good indicator of a character I must play. If I have all the answers, there’s less scope for exploration and discovery which isn’t as interesting for me.

Link here

#colin morgan #interview #14 july 2020 #edgemedianetwork #benjamin #transcription

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