#also apparently it's hard as fuck just to buy SPACE anymore

[system-of-a-feather]

Honestly I think people on here really greatly under acknowledge and recognize the large impact / large trauma that comes from intergenerational trauma from colonization, systemic racism, and not-white America centered trauma. And I know that likely has to do with how massively white tumblr dot com is, but it really isn't until I was around my writing partner that has known me for more than half my life and talking with another peer with Chinese-Indonesian background did it really occur to me how intensely pervasive intergenerational trauma due to US involvement in SE Asia is and how it plays / impacts my life.

A lot of non-America centered trauma and abuse really doesn't fall into any of the real common ways people talk about abuse, neglect and trauma because a lot of that sort of trauma is way more complex and nuanced because a lot of the nature of HOW / WHY that abuse, neglect and trauma occurred is inherently tied a lot more into a history of community / collective trauma and abuse and the ways the individuals from those areas 1) had to survive and 2) the resources that they had available to work with and 3) the inability / difficulty for individuals who are transmitting that intergenerational trauma to realize that they are not in that situation anymore and thus not unintentionally recreate the environment / mindset / trauma for the kids going on

And I'm saying "inability / difficulty" in this case because while I agree that the rhetoric of "it doesn't matter if an abuser has trauma, they could have not continued it" is true in most cases, in my experience especially with my own intergenerational trauma, some people have systemically been stripped of basically any real resources or aid or opportunity or space to really "stop the cycle of abuse" and even at their obvious BEST attempts, they still end up in a position where they systemically really can't prevent it from passing on

It was a joke - a very real joke, but that is something I appreciate with my close friends because it reminds me to check my anxieties against reality - that I "act like I still am in Indonesia" (which for the record, I have never been in Indonesia, I'm the only one in my family that hasn't because I wasn't born when they were there) as a call back to when I was commentating on the complex and dynamic financial situation my family had growing up to which my friend told me "Yeah, but it doesn't matter if you had money or not if your dad constantly lived like he was still in Indonesia" which like... 100% true

And its honestly a really fucking hard thing to work through and overcome. Factually, ON MY OWN - ie not including my fiance who is ALSO in a similar situation on his own, I am financially pretty well off. Every month I make good savings and I have a pretty fat cushion in case things go bad, and so I very much CAN afford to buy myself a $6 fidget toy, but spending that $6 feels like fucking death itself a lot of the time.

I honestly don't know if I'll ever feel as if my financial situation is anything other than broke, not because of income or anything, but just because the factual amount of money I make isn't what controls if I feel financially comfortable / well off or not. I could probably have a half million in the bank and still be sweating about spending $6 on a fidget toy.

And honestly, I was watching 90 day fiance with my friends when I was traveling, and one of the dynamics (for those that know Ashley and Manuel) REALLY made it apparent how disconnected multi-generational Americans can be towards immigrant / immigrant families that have had to come to America for a chance at a better life. It's an experience - a trauma that a lot of people who are not an immigrant themselves or a first generation American to wrap their head around and fathom.

And honestly, I wish there was more talk about it. I wish there were more people with that history talking about it.

(I 'lowkey' start venting under here so Imma put it under the cut since it detracts somewhat from the point but its also worth stating)

I wish there were more people openly discussing how absolutely fucked it is that the US gets to come into countries, INTENTIONALLY fuck it up as a CONFIRMED and ADMITTED method to 'instill democracy / capitalism', and then the same people that from the same country that the US fucked over - for PURE survival - have to immigrate for a chance of living a life that is anything other than rough and a constant struggle.

Some people really wonder why it is that our system has such a foul taste in our mouth for America, I know some people think that because before fusing, >I< wondered why XIV was so deeply and intensely bitter about all things American, and I absolutely get it.

Indonesia was literally intentionally and systemically fucked over by the US Military. That fucking over resulting in immense trauma to my dad that not only immensely translated to me, but also made him EXTREMELY subservient in a "keep your head down, lick the boots of the most powerful person, and enjoy living under the boot of those in power because its the only way to have peace" which is something we - specifically XIV in the past - had internalized deeply which is why were were pretty far down the right wing path and why - when XIV looked at it closer and immediately saw past it - flipped to hard Anti-America values. Because its FUCKED that the US gets to come and ruin a country and then have the victims come and having the same victims "thankfully" licking the boots of the US for giving them a "better life".

Its honestly awful and literally no one talks about it and I know its not just Indonesia that has this. Its the fucking US's modus operandi and its fucking awful.

The US is a place you can come "to get a better life" largely because they fucking ruined most of the other places ability to have a good life.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Book Five: Section Seven

Jackie and Marvin have a rough time of things. Henrik comes back towards the surface, at least for a minute. Masterlist

Tws for self-hatred, past abuse, suicidal and depressive ideation, and Marvin lashing out at the audience. Tws may not be completely exhaustive - keep in mind the heaviness of the fic and look out for yourself.

Thank you to @lehhoh7822 for taking the time to compile this book!

Anonymous asked:

Happy birthday Jackieboy! How goes the end of the ballet? Or are they not quite there yet?

He pants in the darkness of the alley, his hood over his head. He flexes his fingers. Stretches his neck. Spits.

“Yeah,” he says lowly. “Apparently that one doesn't turn out so well in the end."

At his feet, a trio of bodies. He turns and walks away, shaking blood off his hands.

Got to get the anger out somehow.

Anonymous asked:

Jackie what happened?? What did you do?

“What? They’re the ones who picked a fight.” He strikes the wall beside him, hard. “Drunk fucks.”

And if he went to a bad part of town in the hopes that somebody might provoke him, that’s nobody’s business.

Anonymous asked:

Aww Jackie. I'm sorry the play wasn't pleasant and upset you. But can I ask why you needed to beat up three people over it? Did something happen?

“They were hollering at some girl. I handled it for her. I did good. I stopped it. I did!”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and trudges home, kicking at rocks.

Anonymous asked:

There are healthier ways to punch things, JBM. Considered buying a punching bag or joining a gym? Martial arts lessons? Just anything but beating up strangers unless you suddenly like the idea of jail.

“Not the same rush,” mutters Jackie, eyes dark. “He spent so long teaching me to be his killer. Learned to like the adrenaline. The control. He would always be so proud of me… and I guess I’m just fucked up enough to enjoy the power of it.”

He stares down at the ground as he walks.

“Do you remember when we all went back in time, and Marvin told me what a hero I was? And how I was a good big brother and they all loved me? I want to be that person again. I’m trying to be Jackie. But there are parts of me that will always be Red, and I’m not sure I can handle that. There are parts of me that will always be scarred by him. No matter how much I heal.”

He kicks a stone. “I just want to go home. I shouldn’t have done that. I know. I was angry before. It made me feel better, that’s all.”

Anonymous asked:

Heroism is not random acts of vigilantism, Jackie. Heroism is self sacrifice for the good of others. You don't need to pick fights to be a hero again.

“I like picking fights, though,” he says. “I’m his little killer. It’s the only thing I’m good at. Fights and tech. I can’t even make Blue smile anymore.”

Anonymous asked:

Ah yes, "all you're good at" as though you haven't been brave and powerful and strong for months now purely for the sake of your brothers, as if you havent been sacrificing every part of yourself for the good of their health and safety. You're still more of a hero than you ever were a killer.

That makes him smile a little, playing with his hands.

“They deserve better. That’s all.”

Anonymous asked:

How'd the ballet go Jackie? Also, Blue is going to need your support and encouragement when you get home, he's not doing well, and you're the only person he seems to feel like he hasn't hurt.

“What? What’s wrong with him?”

He reaches the steps up to their apartment, gripping anxiously at the bars of the staircase. “Chase might be a better help to him than me.”

Anonymous asked:

Blue asked for you specifically! He seemed to want to be comforted by you before. Maybe spending some time together would be good for both of you.

“He wants me?”

Jackie steps quietly into the apartment, locking the door behind him. Their empty living space looks back at him, but at least he knows the fridge and cupboards are stocked now.

Blue’s door is slightly open. Jackie peers inside. His twin is hiding beneath the covers, quiet. There’s a couple little packages on the bed, wrapped up in newspaper.

Anonymous asked:

Ooohh packages? What's inside? And how are you doing Blue?

Jackie pulls apart the top package carefully, finding the Princess Bride wrapped up inside. He grins and looks up to find Blue looking back at him, eyes tired.

“Happy birthday,” Blue mumbles.

“Thanks,” says Jackie softly.

“You’re coming to bed?”

“How are you?” Jackie redirects, blinking at him.

Blue pulls his covers up to his chin. “Fine.”

“Oh, good,” says Jackie, sighing. “The cameras thought you were upset.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Then you should sleep.”

Blue gazes at him, mouth tight.

Anonymous asked:

The anger and guilt and self-hate are a part of the healing process, Marvin. Chase is right, it takes time. Time and therapy and building of a support system. You can't expect to magically be healed in only a short amount of time AND without talking to a professional or taking medicine to help with your moods. You can take action to heal quicker, but you're refusing it.

Blue slides back onto his side while Jackie looks through his presents - his new jackets and shoes and the book and some candy. He’s eating Hot Tamales by the time he looks up again, and it is then, in the lowlight of their only lamp in the house, that he sees Blue shaking with tears, silent against his pillows.

Jackie crawls over him on the bed, confused, and uses his sleeve to wipe at his reddened face. It’s not like Blue to cry. He gets mad. He does not cry. Jackie is often the same way.

“Not fine?” asks Jackie.

Blue moans and buries his face in his pillow. Jackie hovers over him, hand on his shoulder, brushing away his tears.

“You can… have anything you need,” offers Jackie anxiously. “Just tell me. I can try. I’m not good at any of it but I can try. I would bring you anything.”

“Nothing’s going to fix this.”

“Fix what?” asks Jackie, bewildered. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“I wish you could just - the way that Chase always knows exactly what Henrik needs. I wish you could do that.”

Jackie chews on his nails. “But I can’t do that.”

“I know, trust me…”

“So you have to tell me.”

“I don’t know.”

“This isn’t fair,” protests Jackie, squeezing his shoulder. “Tell me, tell. You’re a liar. You said you were fine.”

Anonymous asked:

Blue, you are YOU. You are not Anti nor just what he left behind. You're an individual and you belong to yourself. Your body is yours, and your mind is yours. I understand the self hatred, it's brought on by your immense trauma and guilt. Stop, slow your thoughts, identify your strengths, learn to accept compliments and good words from yourself and others, and develop some self compassion instead of mercilessly judging and criticizing yourself for various inadequacies or shortcomings.

“Compliments, I can do compliments,” says Jackie swiftly.

“Jackie - is there blood on you? Hey!”

“Don’t worry about it, don’t worry. I love you. You’re smart, did you know that?”

“You jackass, you did not get in another fight. Come on, we’re going to the bathroom to clean you up right now.”

Jackie lets Blue pull him by the arm towards the bathroom.

“You read so fast I bet you could learn anything if you just felt like it. You know like five languages. I love how you - how you hold yourself? Like you know you’re something just a little bit unnatural. Just a little dangerous. You should because when you use your power, you look like some kind of constellation come to life.”

“Jackie…” Blue blots blood from his face with a washcloth, pushing the soft hair from his face. “I don’t need compliments. I just want to take care of you, okay?”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” shouts Jackie.

Blue slows, blinking at him. Jackie blinks back, their hands tentative in the air between them.

“You won’t let anyone do anything,” croaks Jackie. “Just angry and unhappy all the time.”

“Hypocrite,” whispers Blue.

Jackie just looks down, shaking his head. After a long moment, he slinks forward and places his head on Blue’s shoulder, hiding against his neck, and Blue is still.

“You are… you. My twin. I don’t care what name you go by. You don’t have to be anything else.”

The tears are back. Dripping down his cheeks.

“I want to be.”

“Then I want to help,” says Jackie. “As long as what you want to change is the parts of yourself that hurt you, and not the parts of yourself that just want the pain to stop.”

Anonymous asked:

Fine, okay, hate yourself forever if that's what you want. But Blue, goddamnit, you absolutely cannot treat your brothers like this. You cannot be cruel to them and take out your anger on them. You are hurting the people around you because of how much you hurt inside. Go to a therapist. Go to a psychiatrist. Get help, you have people willing to do it. Stop yourself in this tirade before you burry yourself in the dirt.

Jackie doesn’t know what to do with a crying Blue. He just… clings to him.

“I know how awful I’m being,” sobs Blue. “It keeps me awake. I feel like I can’t help it half the time. Something about them… not my Chase. It’s Dapper and Dok.”

“JJ and Schneep.”

“How am I supposed to see them that way when I saw them through Anti’s eyes?” Blue cries, clinging to his brother’s hoodie, to his hair, to his shoulders. “I beat Dok until he was screaming for me to stop, telling me he would do anything, I - ”

“You didn’t do that. That was Anti.”

“I held Dapper in my bed and forced him to lie down with me. I could have done worse. I could have done anything. That’s the worst fucking part. Anti could have done anything to him with my hands. He could have tortured him, could have made him kill, could have had sex with him, whatever he wanted. And I was in the same boat. He could have used my body for anything. And the two of us, we would lie there under Anti’s control, in that bed, for hours every night, neither of us moving, both of us trapped, helpless, helpless. Every time I look at him I’m - I’m - ”

He’s back in that bed again. Anti’s beneath his skin. Anti’s using him to beat Henrik, Anti’s using him to hypnotize Chase til he’s quiet again. Anti’s there. And Dapper’s looking back at him, just as trapped, just as despairing, and there is nothing he can do, nothing he can do, he has to do something, he has to do -

“Ow, ow, Blue!” cries Jackie, and when he comes back to awareness Blue has to tear roses out of his brother’s arms, gasping at the blood running down them.

“Oh, shit, I - Red, I didn’t mean to, I just - I’ll bandage it, I’m sorry!”

Anonymous asked:

You were violated, Blue. The others didn't deserve what happened to them, but you didn't deserve what happened to you either. You were stepped off your powers and your very autonomy, but even if it doesn't feel like it, you still have your worth. Not as a puppet but as a person and a brother and yourself.

“How do I come back from being used like that?” asks Blue. “Doesn’t it just fuck you up forever? He just… really took everything from me.”

“We’re here,” whispers Jackie.

“I look at all of you and see him. I look at myself and see him. Everything is drifting through his fog. I don’t even have the memories of a time where he wasn’t there.”

“You’re going to have to trust me on this one,” says Jackie, placing a hand on the back of his twin’s head and drawing him close. “You are a very distinct person from Anti. And I really think that we can… get better, in some ways.”

“You don’t sound all that sure.”

“I’m not,” admits Jackie weakly. “Because I think I’ve been feeling the same way. Like his killer. It helps me to talk about it because then at least I realize what it is I’m feeling.”

“I just feel bad about myself,” says Blue. “And… terrified every time I remember. Every time I look at JJ and Schneep, or something else reminds me. Then I lash out and I’m just playing his game again.”

Anonymous asked:

Start building something new, Blue. You can't heal if you keep insisting you're still Blue, but you don't have to be Marvin either. Be somebody new, make someone you can love. You don't have to hate yourself forever. Dye your hair, get a new piercing, or buy clothes that feel familiar. Be /you/. Not Blue, not Marvin. You don't have to just wallow in the hate. Change things about yourself that annoy you. Reinvent yourself, and stop pushing your family away.

“I’m sorry,” says Blue quietly. “There’s so little of me left I don’t know where to start building from. I don’t know what I want. Don’t trust myself to do anything to my own body. Like it’s not mine. I’d be scared to change it. I - ”

There’s a short sob somewhere down the hall.

Jackie stands straight up, his hand falling from Blue’s head in an instant. His eyes are wide and alert.

“Jackie - ”

“That was JJ,” he says. “That’s my little brother.”

And just like that - just one second later - he’s vanishing down the hall.

He’s gone.

Blue stands in the bathroom, mouth trembling. Jackie’s blood drizzles into the sink. Tears slip down his face, defeated and angry, and he hiccups on a sob of his own.

Anonymous asked:

Is JJ okay? And Jackie, get back to Blue as soon as you can, he's going through a lot right now, though I know all of you are and it must be hard to prioritize.

“Jamie, Jamie.” Jackie races towards him, pushing open his door. He knows what Blue says in situations like this. “Honey, love, here I am.”

His brother is gone from his room and Jackie’s heart panics for a second - he stole him away from me! - before he hears him crying from the closet. Jackie tears open the white door and kneels down beside him, gripping his shoulder. “Dapper, JJ, my little man. Look at me, pal.”

“Trapped, room, trapped, room, trapped, room,” JJ is signing, over and over again. “Trapped room trapped room trapped - ”

Jackie drags him right out of the closet, shoving the door to the room open and pulling him into the living space. He shoves open the door to their little cement balcony.

“No, no, I’m in trouble, I’m in trouble,” scream JJ’s hands, tearing at his hair.

“Not in trouble. You’re not in trouble. He’s not here. He won’t hurt you.”

“They locked my door in the psych ward, couldn’t get out, couldn’t get out! I’m trying to be good, I don’t want to go back, I’m in trouble!”

“No, Dap, no, you can stay, you’re not in trouble…”

Blue slides numbly from the bathroom, treading into the living room to listen to his twin’s loving voice soothing and reassuring JJ through his panic.

“I can’t sleep alone, I can feel him looking at me, and the bed is so cold, I haven’t slept alone in years!”

“I can stay with you if you want, just breathe, Jaimer, just breathe for me.”

Blue’s heart gives one sharp thud of pain. He clenches his fists and thorns and flame wreath his fingers, making them shake. His head swims. He hates this. Anger and guilt and despair.

Forget it.

“I’m right here, Jamie, my Jamie…”

Blue stalks back to his room and locks the door behind him.

Anonymous asked:

You aren't trapped JJ, it'll be okay. See, you can go out on the balcony! No one will take you away and no one will force you to be locked up anymore. Your big brother is letting you leave the room, letting you go out in the fresh air. You'll be okay. Never have to be trapped again.

“I couldn’t get out of my room at night at the hospital, and I was scared, I was scared, but I didn’t want - didn’t want to get stuck, had to be good to get out, had to - ”

“Breathe, Jaimer, slower for me, okay? Slower. They locked your door?”

“They can’t just let people wander at night…”

Jackie rocks them both back and forth on the floor, his brother pinned to his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me that was stressing you out?”

“I just wanted to be good so I could go home. Everybody was always watching me in that place. I’m just always a prisoner.”

“Ah, Dipper… fuck’s sake, I’m sorry this keeps happening. We just wanted you to be better, didn’t mean to reinforce anything he taught you. Were you just masking? Do you even feel better at all?”

“I do feel better, I do,” JJ answers him quickly. “But sometimes I think that coping with this - with all of this - the masking is the coping. If I can hide it I’m doing better. If I can tell that Anti’s not real when I see him across the room, if I can ignore him - that’s better than I was before.”

He’s wiping at his reddened face. Jackie rocks him slowly, watching him.

“But you still feel bad?”

JJ huffs out a sigh and places his head against Jackie’s shoulder, squeezing his knee for a second. “I just got scared, that’s all. There’s a part of me still so worried that Anti is here, in a way. That we’re going to fall back into old patterns. That you’d lock me up if I acted badly or that Blue is going to hurt me because I remind him of Anti.”

Jackie’s eyes darken. “Dude. He wouldn’t do that.”

“I can’t help my paranoia,” signs back Jamie, letting his eyes slide shut. “And I see it in his face: sometimes he does want to hurt me. To melt away the parts of me that remind him of Anti the same way he melted my knife.”

Jackie doesn’t know what to say. He rocks JJ until his brother’s breathing has slowed and his heart is jackrabbiting against the both of them, maybe ten minutes later.

“Let’s go back to bed,” he says softly.

“Don’t leave me,” pleads JJ. “When my bed is empty, he comes to fill the space beside me. His hands run over my stomach.”

“I won’t, Jaimer. I won’t.”

Anonymous asked:

Oh, Blue honey, don't feel too awfully dejected from Jackie running off... You know he's hypervigilant when it comes to the younger three, but I'm sure he'll come back to you. You deserve care and comfort just as much as they do, maybe even more right now. Believe yourself to be worthy of comfort, even though the self-hatred tells you otherwise. Jackie loves you just as much as the others, he just trusts you more to handle yourself alone. For better or worse, honestly.

Blue changes into PJs quietly, the energy gone out of him. For a few minutes, he hears Jackie pulling at the door and calling his name, confused, but he doesn’t answer, and eventually his twin slips away again.

Off to deal with his favorites.

Maybe it’s his fault. He knows how stubborn he’s been. He’s refused help for so long that the others don’t know how to give it to him anymore, or even to recognize that he needs it. He doesn’t like to be fussed over much anyway, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to be babied.

But it might be nice. Just for a minute. It might be nice to have Jackie call him little brother and cuddle up with him in their bed, just the two of them, instead of shying away from each other on either side of the mattress like they do most days. Like they don’t know what to do with each other anymore.

He wonders if Anti was what was holding the pair of them together - Anti and the need to protect their younger siblings. Red hated having a newcomer when they first met, after all. It wasn’t until Anti reset the both of them and shoved them into brotherhood that they decided they loved each other. Maybe they’re not even friends. Just survivors who were stranded on the same life boat, and now that they’re back on dry land, Jackie can go wherever he wants.

He lies in bed for a long time, but he can’t sleep. He’s slept all day. He trudges out into the hallway and peers into JJ’s room, just for a minute.

Jackie is curled around his younger brother, the pair of them asleep on the floor under blankets and each other’s arms. Jackie keeps Jameson safe.

Blue checks on Henrik and Chase.

“Dok?” he murmurs. “Why are you up?”

Henrik turns to him, blinking in the darkness.

“Do you need something?” he asks.

Henrik shakes his head. Chase is asleep in their nest, hand stretched out in the space where his twin should be.

Blue gives Henrik a kiss on the head. “Go to sleep, my darling.”

Henrik gazes up at him. For a second, his scarred hand rises to stroke across Blue’s cheek, cupping his face.

Blue thinks he would probably make everything right if he were here. Henrik would probably open his mouth and make everything in the world right.

He leads his little brother gently back to their nest and lies him down beside Chase, who readjusts instantly to hold him. They’re all magnets, clicking against each other, and Blue is just something plastic trying to fit in.

“Good night, sunshine.”

Henrik watches him leave their room, his blue eyes glittering in the moonlight. Blue closes the door behind him and goes back to bed.

.

Anonymous asked:

Blue you won't ever be anything but Antis if you keep insisting on not getting help. There's a reason you're not healing and don't feel okay, and it's because you won't talk to anyone, and you won't express how you feel, and you won't see professionals. You are sabotaging yourself. You need to see someone, get outside help. I know what it feels like to hate yourself, and taking it out on others around you is the worst thing you could do. Stop cutting people off with your hatred and guilt.

“I’m so glad you came,” Chase is telling him the next day, over and over. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thanks, I just - I’ve been worried. I love you, you know?”

He does know. He wants to be all fluffy and affectionate with him again, but he doesn’t have the energy. He doesn’t want to be here. But maybe everyone’s right.

He can’t handle this on his own.

“Mathew?” calls the receptionist.

“It’s Matti,” he says wearily, getting to his feet. “Chase, I’ll just be a few.”

“Take your time,” says Chase, squeezing his hand goodbye. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

Blue steps back into the doctor’s office and sits down in an examination room, slumping back against the wall and closing his eyes, worn.

Anonymous asked:

Tell the doctor about the unstable moods and anger you're dealing with, Blue. It might lead to you getting a psychiatrist and someone to talk to.

“So. What are we here to look at, Matti?”

Dr. Bowlan looks at him with this placid smile on his mouth, a clipboard resting on his knee. Blue sighs through his teeth, sick of this already. He knows, doesn’t he? He circled mood swings and irritability on his intake paperwork. He went through the questions the nurse asked him.

“Little interest or pleasure in doing things?”

“Every day.”

“Feeling down, depressed, or hopeless.”

“Most days.”

“Trouble falling or staying asleep, or sleeping too much.”

“Most days.”

“Feeling tired or having little energy.”

“Every day.”

“Poor appetite or over-eating.”

“Most days.”

“Feeling bad about yourself or that you are a failure or have let your family down.”

“Every day.”

“Trouble concentrating on things?”

“Some days.”

“Moving or speaking slowly or being restless and fidgeting.”

“Not at all.”

“Thoughts that you would be better off dead or hurting yourself in some way.”

“… Every day.”

“In the past two weeks, have you done anything or planned to do anything with the intent of ending your life?”

“No.”

“You’re not feeling good?” murmurs Dr. Bowlan, bringing him back to the present.

Blue shakes his head. No. He’s not feeling good.

“I’m taking it out on the others,” he says thinly. “I’m angry at all of them. It has to stop. I can’t help them like this.”

Anonymous asked:

There's definitely some problems here, Blue's clues. Please let the doctor help you find a solution without much sass or fighting it! /lh

“I’ll be as sassy as I want,” Blue mutters. Dr. Bowlan has talked him through every aspect of his feelings that he’s willing to talk about - so a whole five minutes of discussion - and he’s ready to go.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“Matti, I think it might be a good idea to try some antidepressants and see how those go. I need to see you again next week and you need to take them every day. The truth is that medication really works best in conjunction with therapy. You could get into the same place as your brother if you would like…”

He listens to him drone on about therapy. He just wants to take the pills and go. Finally, he receives a prescription, and, with a mumbled thank you, he’s gone again. Chase beams at him from the waiting room, but Blue just sweeps past.

Anonymous asked:

I'm so proud of you for going to the doctor for help, Blue!

“Yeah, that’s a good first step,” agrees Chase warmly, hastening after his sibling, not sure why Blue is heading for the alley to the back of the building instead of walking back towards the bus stop so they can get him to work on time. “Blue, the bus stop is - ”

“I don’t need your fucking approval!” screams Blue, whirling on you, and it’s then that you see his eyes are blazing blue. “I don’t want to fucking talk about it! Just leave me the fuck alone, everyone, shut the fuck up, I don’t care!”

Chase leaps back, shocked, as the ground beneath his feet grows hot even through his new shoes. Fire crackles in Blue’s hands.

“Don’t send me another fucking question or another goddamn condescending congratulations or I’m going to - ”

He spins around again, seething through his teeth as his power makes his body shake. He needs to shut the fuck up before he says worse.

“Blue,” begins Chase, and Blue hears the shake in his voice. “You can’t be using magic in the city - there’s magicians, Jackie said - ”

“Just give me a minute!” he howls.

Chase cowers back against the wall and goes quiet.

Anonymous asked:

I'm so proud of you for going to the doctor's, Blue. Just remember that you need this help, and it'll be good for you in the long run. You'll make it through, even dealing with annoying doctor visits and your irritability. Be safe and let the doctors help as much as they can. - 🎒

His heartbeat seems to pulse up into his throat and his breaths come fast and shaky. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. He hates this. All of it. Anger like a swelling of magma. Hot. It hurts his chest. He’s going to be sick. Grips his soft stomach and hates that too. Ugly and breaking down. He spits bile and weeds groan up from the cracks in the cement, twisted and back, dead by the time they’re grown.

He knows he’s scared Chase and he hates that too. His brother is hiding beside a garbage can, peering out at him like he used to peer out his broken window, on watch, hiding. Chase has learned how to live like a rat. Hates it, hates it. Flame up his back. He’s wreathed in his own fire. He glows with it - with the power, with the pain. Anger’s just hurt that doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

“We’re done talking about this,” he says through gritted teeth. “Talk to me again and I’m just going to ignore it. Just leave me alone.”

He draws himself up after long minutes. Chase curls in on himself against the trash cans, eyes big and wary. He reaches out to take Blue’s hand but won’t meet his gaze anymore. Head down, scared of him.

It’s his fault. His chest hurts from how hard his heart is beating.

Anonymous asked:

None of the congratulations were meant as condescending, Marvin. The audience is genuinely proud of you. Not everyone is out to annoy you, man. Chase, don't take anything he says personally, Blue is feeling extreme emotions and what's best right now, like with Jackie going to another room when he gets angry, is to just let him blow off the steam in a safe environment.

Chase glances up at Blue, who just ignores the message and keeps pulling him towards the bus. He wants to open his mouth to say something - I’m proud of you and I know they are too, is that so wrong? Why are you so angry all the time, why won’t you eat what I cook you, why don’t you come hang out with me and cuddle a little like we used to? I wish you would talk to me. Haven’t I been where you are? - but he isn’t going to push his buttons. He’s going to be good. He puts his head back down and keeps walking. Blue’s hand is hot in his own.

Anonymous asked:

Chase, were you scared of Blue just then? Maybe you should express that to him and clarify that you still love him despite it? I think he needs time alone once you get home, so on the bus or in this alley is your shot to talk with him about how he's making you feel.

“I’m sorry, I just lost control of the power, I would never let it hurt you,” Blue tells him in one breath, sitting down on the bus and then going silent again.

Chase chews on his mouth, staring at the silver floor of the bus. Yeah, he was scared. He closes his eyes tight. He knows that heat, Blue’s heat, Blue’s flame. It was somehow different from the hot California sun. He remembers feeling it crackle against his skin, making his hair stand up, making the forest floor stink of smoking plant matter and, when Blue got really angry, smoking flesh. He can see his brother plunging the knife into Anti’s chest. Anti is screaming. Blood and ink splurt across the dirt. He smells copper and flame.

He presses his face into Blue’s shoulder and just hides. He squeezes his palm. I love you. I love you.

Anonymous asked:

Chase, it'll be okay, don't worry horribly. You're already doing good thing with small reminders you love him and being patient with him. Your fear is understandable in the face of anger given who your abuser was, but you braved through it like you always do, fighter. Blue needs lots of help right now, the problem is getting him to tell you all what help he needs.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go to work today,” says Chase. If he won’t tell him what help he needs, he can at least try to look after him. Try not to worry. “We could go for a walk. Have a day off. I want to bake a cake or cookies or something, we could - ”

“I’m fine, amata,” says Blue lowly.

Long silence. The rushing by of the city.

“Would you even be taking the antidepressants if I wasn’t around?” Chase asks miserably.

The bus pulls to a stop outside the library. Blue gets to his feet, turning his back to him.

“If I didn’t have you, I wouldn’t have anything worth taking antidepressants for.”

Anonymous asked:

For Blue: It's okay to mourn the person you could have been. It's okay to be angry or resentful at that lost chance. It's okay to be sad about it too. But i, and your brothers, want you to know that there are so many parts of you, the you that exists right now, that are beautiful and lovely and meaningful. Just because your past is lost doesn't mean your future has to be too. You deserve to heal and work through this raging fire in you until it's protective, comforting fire again. We all believe in you.

He’s just… lost all control.

He’s lost control of himself, lost control of his relationships, lost control of his magic. It’s so much easier to lash out than to admit just how… lost he is.

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He really doesn’t.

Stepping into the library, he settles in behind the front desk, accepts a re-shelving assignment from his boss, and gets to work. At least this is something he can do right - book here, book here, mark the date. But it’s so meaningless. He doesn’t know how Jackie gets satisfaction out of just pushing buttons and monitoring the audio.

This isn’t what he was meant to do.

He can sense it, the same way he can sense that this person - this person he’s acting like, this person he’s become - it isn’t who he’s meant to be either.

He doesn’t know how to get that person back.

Maybe he could try changing his jewelry or his shoes or his hair. But it’s so scary to think that maybe, even if he tries everything he possibly can…

The person in the mirror will still not be him.

He re-shelves C.S. Lewis and wipes quietly at his eyes behind the bookshelves.

Chase is chatting to someone on the other side of the library, and it takes Blue a minute to realize that JJ has brought Henrik from home. That’s right, they were going to hang out here today. At least they’re close. His little brothers. He has to keep an eye on them. He has to make sure they’re okay. Even if he only seems to be able to be a jerk around them.

The sound of their voices is the only solace he has. He takes a shuddering breath and gets back to work.

He doesn’t know if he can heal from this. But if it would help them… well, he’ll try.

Anonymous asked:

Blue are there any mirrors in the library? There could be a mirror portal somewhere within that you just don't know the password for?

“I’ve thought about that,” Blue agrees. “I think it’s likely, even. There’s mirrors in the bathrooms and one upstairs in the kids’ section. But I have no idea how to open them even if I knew which one it was. It’s just this feeling that something is here. I wish I knew. I almost feel like I - like I should know.”

But it’s just one more patch of fog in his blank brain. He scowls and tries to stop thinking about it. He wishes he had any past at all to ground himself in.

This is when he notices a head pop over the bookcase he’s shelving.

“Are we talking about magic?” asks JJ cheerily. “I’ll help you look.”

Blue sighs, a little endeared despite himself. “I guess. But how are we going to find the password even if we know the mirror?”

“C'mon, we could at least check things out.”

It feels as hopeless as everything else. Blue mumbles excuses, putting books into their places.

scunneredzombie asked:

You should go with Jamie, have a look around with someone else who has magic understanding! It might be helpful if you teamed up with someone else, Blue.

Blue glances up at JJ, who smiles back at him. Fuck’s sake, he’s a forgiving little man. Blue hopes that’s who he is and not just an abuse response.

“Okay, babe, fine. Lead the way.”

“To the bathroom!”

“What, how are we going to check both?”

“You work here. Just say you’re cleaning it.”

“I’m not a janitor.”

“But I bet you know where the ‘closed for cleaning’ signs are.”

Little shit. Blue rolls his eyes and grins frailly back at him, getting to his feet.

“Come on, then.”

Anonymous asked:

Do either of you know any old Irish sayings/idioms/song verses/poetry? You can use those to take guesses at the mirror password if you think it'd work!

“I’m sure Blue knows plenty of nerdy old poetry,” says JJ.

Blue flicks his ear. “Too much to know what would work. And I think it might be a little suspicious if I just stood around chanting poetry and Irish sayings in the bathroom.”

“It’s not any of these anyway,” says JJ, pushing out the door. “Or the one upstairs. No portals.”

“How do you know?”

“I could feel it if it were.”

“I can’t tell any difference between any of them,” says Blue, frowning.

“With all love, Blue, I’m a little more powerful. But you’re probably just not sensing anything because there’s nothing there to sense. I’m not even sure it’s in this building. Just… near.”

Blue crosses his arms over his chest, annoyed. “I can tell it’s here, alright? I know it is.”

“I’m not doubting you,” says JJ. “I agree there’s something close.”

“Well, it’s not like there’s mirrors just standing in the middle of the field where they have the farmer’s market. It’s just grass and that fountain out there.”

JJ shrugs, moving to the window of the library. There’s the field with the fountain pouring down a straight sheet of water, the bus stop, and beyond it, more buildings and streets. It’s a pretty little library in the center of town, old enough to have stood for years and years.

scunneredzombie asked:

Can mirror dimensions be made by using the reflections in water? If the fountain has water come down in straight sheets or has anything particularly glimmery, that might be a place to check!

There’s a pause between the two of them.

And then they’re pushing each other out of the way to race back out the door, darting out to the fountain in the field.

“It’s big enough to walk through.”

“You can see your reflection in it no problem.”

“It goes all day and all night and over the winter I bet the pool at the bottom freezes over and sits.”

They exchange looks. JJ picks up Blue’s hand and sticks it into the stream, his own fingers wrapped around his wrist.

And Blue still doesn’t sense the stronger magic here, and he does not magically remember a password, and he certainly does not pass through the stream to another world, and yet -

There is a faint memory right here.

And he knows he’s stood in this exact spot, and made his way through the water.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, I think this is the place.”

At the top of the fountain, carved in stone, a lapwing bird.

Anonymous asked:

Welcome home again, Magnificent, you've found them!

“Sort of,” says Blue. “If I could actually get through it.”

“We could wait for someone to show up, maybe?”

“I guess I can keep an eye out from the library or something.”

Anonymous asked:

It's a long shot, but maybe try the "I love you, farewell" password that was used on the portal to your house back before Anti? I think it was something like "Te amo, valete". Just a thought!

The recognition of it draws a sudden and brilliant smile to Blue’s mouth and laughter comes bubbling out him, awed.

“Holy shit… that was our password.”

He glances at JJ, who smiles at him.

“We… we hid a mirror in the city, I think, and we… yeah, we had a password, I told Jackie he had to say he loved me before I’d let him leave… it was just a joke, but we say it damn near often enough anyway now, don’t we…”

“I miss that place,” signs JJ softly.

Fuck, but Blue would like to find it again. A home… a real home, just for them.

“Ammo,” he says. “Vale.”

He touches the water, but nothing changes. He blows out a breath. “Well, at least we know ours.”

Anonymous asked:

Are there any Irish poems about birds or lapwings you could try? Or maybe poems or quotes from books, since you're so near the library?

“That’s another next step, maybe,” agrees JJ. “There could be clues in the library. We could go back inside and look, if you’re not, like, remembering anything.”

Blue stares up at the fountain, wishing it could all come back to him. Not just magic but… everything. Like it would fill up some missing piece inside him. Lapwings… he doesn’t know anything about them except that they have to do with the magicians, and that he must have been attached enough to have one inked onto him. He thinks he knows some bird poems, though?

“Hope is the thing with feathers,” he offers softly, but nothing happens. But Dickinson wasn’t Irish anyhow. Maybe he could find some Irish poems or sayings or songs about birds.

scunneredzombie asked:

Yes, I knew it! You guys found it, good job! Now to go about finding the password... Any other memories surfacing, Blue?

“Yeah, that would be convenient,” sighs Blue. “A good old flashback and then we can hop right over to Hogwarts.”

He touches the water again, sighing at the coolness. “A password, huh? Wait, we had a mirror dimension for the five of us. How did you get in and out?”

“You made it work for me,” answers JJ gently. “Doesn’t have to be spoken aloud.”

“What did we do instead? A sign?”

“Yeah, a sign.”

“So it could be any words or any hand motion or anything,” grumbles Blue.

“Or even images. I’ve heard it can be images.”

“Great. Narrows it down.”

“Might be easier to meet some magicians.”

“Well, they won’t show themselves, will they? I’ve been using magic to make roses for weeks now. They don’t seem to have even noticed.”

“You could do something really grand.”

“Yeah, and then they could come try and take us away like you said those British magicians did.” He pulls away from the water, dejected. “They could be just as bad as the British ones. And they told you the Irish magicians had stopped answering them anyway, right? That they’re probably gone? That’s probably it.”

It’s bitter and painful in his chest and he doesn’t even know why.

“The Irish magicians are gone. Even if we could get through, there would be nothing to find.”

“You don’t know that.”

He gives JJ a dark look, feeling himself sinking back down into the mud he’s been stuck in.

“What, you’re hopeful now? Not drowning in your own despair anymore? Guess once the moment of need is over you’re finally ready to poke your head out of your shell and try things for once.”

JJ’s face flashes with anger, and he lifts his hands to shoot back a reply, and then -

Something scared in his face.

He wraps his arms around himself, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion, his mouth going taut, slightly open, slightly unsure -

“Honey,” says Blue, suddenly unnerved.

JJ stares at the world around him, eyes huge, blinking at the sun and the grass.

“Outside,” he signs weakly. “Outside, I’m not - I’m not allowed, I’m supposed to be - ”

Blue grabs his shoulders, trying to steady him. “Dap, stay with me. Hey. You’re fine. I’m sorry, I just…”

“I’m in trouble.” His air is coming faster now, his eyes fixed dangerously on the sun. Blue grabs his chin to pull his gaze away before he blinds himself. “My room. Hurts me, throws me down the stairs. Brat.”

JJ grabs his throat, coughing and pulling at his neck like there’s something wrapped around it, shaking his head.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Blue swears rapidly at himself and wraps an arm firmly around JJ’s shoulders, pulling him hurriedly back towards the library. “I’m sorry, I’m here. I didn’t need to say that, I just… I didn’t need to say that. Come on, we’re okay.”

Anonymous asked:

Jameson, are you okay?? What triggered you, love? You're not a brat, and you're free now, free to leave the room whenever you want. Anti is dead. You're not a prisoner anymore.

“Yeah, you’re good, you’re good,” murmurs Blue, tugging him into the doors of the library and pulling him behind the desk, just grateful that his coworker is upstairs. For all that he gets after him, he knows exactly what JJ wants to do right now - squeeze into a tight space and hide. Which is exactly what he does, hunkering down beneath the computer desk and curling up like a hedgehog, panting.

“Blue? What’s going on?”

“Chase, he just - we went outside and I kind of said something that maybe - but I think it was mostly just being outside, you know, just the sun and everything, I just gave him a little sass for not helping with Anti and - he just - ”

Horrified, Chase races around the desk and falls to his knees beside his brother. “JJ. You’re okay! Fuck, Blue, you two were outside for ten minutes and this - ”

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“What did you say?”

“Just that he didn’t used to try and do stuff, you know, that he would just sit in his room all hopeless.”

“You’re unbelievable,” snaps Chase. He leans closer to wrap himself around JJ, hugging him close.

Blue rears back, pierced. What, Chase is mad? Chase is never mad. Defensive, sure, or scared, or tired, yes, but not mad. That isn’t something that happens.

“Amata, he has a million and one triggers. I was a little short with him, but he just has trouble being outside. You’re just going to pick him over - ”

“Just get out of here, Blue! JJ, can you talk to me? What was it, Jay, what was it? I swear, you and Jackie act like you’re the only ones who are big brothers sometimes! Well, I got people I’m supposed to protect too. And you’re being an ass.”

Blue stares at him, mouth open. Chase doesn’t talk to him like this.

“I’m taking him and Henrik away the second he’s calm,” says Chase, ignoring his gaze, his mouth set stubbornly even though his voice shakes and stammers more than usual, his eyes pricked with tears. “I love you so much but you just keep - you just keep - ugh! If you’re going to treat us this way then maybe you should just leave us alone!”

Blue…

Blue can’t even answer.

He turns away, then turns back. Turns away, turns back.

“You guys were going to hang out here with me today,” he offers lamely.

Where he can hear them. Where he can watch over them.

“We’re going away,” repeats Chase quietly.

He closes his eyes and wraps himself tighter around Jameson, their heads pressed together.

Anonymous asked:

Blue I know you don't want any positive praise or encouragement thrown your way. Maybe you only know the reason but maybe you've just wrapped yourself in cynicism so tightly that you have to push everything out to an arms distance, so you either sit and stew in your own negative emotions, or when you do open up, all that bitterness seeps out and you've proven your cynicism right when things boil over. The world is screwed up, and it's hard to admit that you're screwed up too. It's even harder when you feel like you're asking the same screwed up world for help of all things, but your pride and your cynicism aren't the same thing. You need your pride restored, you need your cynical self dialed back. I hope therapy helps you. I hope the antidepressants don't cause you any grief. I hope YOU believe you can dare to hope again.

Our well-wishes may seem sappy and overly sentimental, but they come from a place of sincerity. The fact is, we don't know how else to help you. We're lost. You're lost. We're all getting redirected in circles but you're going to find a path for yourself. And we'll still be along with you the whole way through.

Blue sits down numbly in one of the big green reading chairs by the window upstairs.

He reads from the corner of his eyes, trying to ignore you, his tongue wetting his mouth. He pulls on his hair and hunches over himself, feeling sick to his stomach again. All the time. It’s his anxiety. Hurts his tummy.

Now he’s made Chase mad.

Chase - Chase wrapped around JJ - picking JJ - wrapped around JJ’s little finger just like Anti was - lying in bed and the two of them are looking at each other, helpless - he feels his arms wrap around JJ and he knows from the way he squirms that he does not like it, but all Anti does is laugh, and Blue can’t do anything about it, can’t make it stop -

He shudders. Cynicism. That’s what it is. He’s lost some ability he used to have. He doesn’t know how to get it back. All that’s left are scars.

A hand on his own pulls him back from his head again. Blue looks up quickly. Maybe Chase came to find him and apologize. To be his cozy little amata again.

But it’s not Chase.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” rasps Blue, swallowing as he tries to put his front of calm back up. “You okay?”

Henrik gazes at him, head tilting slightly. He reaches up and cups Blue’s face. Blue laughs weakly and reaches down to hold the back of his head in return, stroking his fingers through his hair.

“What, are you worried?”

Henrik blinks at him, fingers playing against Blue’s palm.

“Can I have a kiss, then, if you’re worried?” asks Blue boldly, pinching his ear.

Henrik’s mouth thins, his eyes soft.

And then he lifts up and gives Blue a kiss on the side of his temple, scratching his beard for a second. He gets up and turns, and before Blue can say anything, Chase is appearing on the top of the stairs, pale but calm again.

“We’re going to go now,” he says quietly. “JJ just blanked out for a second. He’s fine.”

Blue looks away, sulking. Whatever. Of course he’s fine. What a baby. And now Chase is all on his side. Right away even. Fine, whatever.

“Your shift’s done at six?”

“Yes,” he says shortly.

Chase nods, shifting on his feet, and reaches out for Henrik, who turns to go with him.

“Take the camera with you,” says Blue, pushing your camcorder towards him. “I don’t fucking need it.”

Chase stares at him for a second, mouth pursed. Then he takes the camcorder. He’s pretty sure Jackie hid an emergency GoPro in Blue’s book bag anyway, but it hardly matters.

“Bye,” he says. “Love you.”

Blue glares out the window, simmering. Chase sees leaves budding from inside his clutched fists.

Chase turns unhappily to walk away.

“Love you too,” you hear Blue whisper, and then he’s out of your sight and your hearing.

Stewing in his own negativity, closed off and alone.

Anonymous asked:

Blue, escaping the life with Anti was never going to be a clean ending. I wish you guys could have had a clean slate to build your new lives off of, or at least revert to how things were before, but the fact is, life's not like that. It doesn't matter that you don't want to hear that change takes time, or that you need professional help, or that you can't take care of your family while neglecting yourself: all those things are true.

You can either dig your heels into the ground and insist on drowning in your own self-hatred, or you can admit that you're scared, and accept some help to leave some of that behind you, even if it's just a little. You don't have to pretend to be Marvin, you don't have to continue as Blue. But you need to let go of some of the stubbornness of each identity to move on and become whoever you feel that you are or who you can be.

Whatever the case, we can't force your decision but at least THINK on what we're saying before blindly rejecting it. We care about you, even if you sometimes don't.

It was never going to be clean.

Chase cries in the pews of the Jewish building - he doesn’t know if it’s a synagogue or a temple or just a communal place - where he’s wanted to take Henrik for weeks now. He didn’t plan to be crying when he imagined it, of course. But it was never going to be clean.

It was always going to be Jackie’s screaming in the middle of the night and an ugly burn on Chase’s hand. It was always going to be JJ talking to a monster who is no longer there and a blank stare in Henrik’s face. It was always going to be Blue’s fury and a bottle of antidepressants.

“I wish he had taken Dok and run like he said he would,” he sobs into JJ’s shirt. “That first night he tried to run. In Norway. We were in Norway? I just remember him trying to take Dok and go. I wish he had escaped that night. Then the two of them would still be okay. Not like this. Not like this, this isn’t right, it’s not how it’s supposed to be. At least they could have gotten away. But he stayed for us, I remember, I remember that much. The beach… we were on the beach… I don’t know how long ago. Just not like this.”

He’s the only sound in the whole of the little building. It’s not the most impressive religious building Chase has ever seen. There’s an open area with some fold-up metal chairs and plastic tables and a rickety old piano, and then a partition before the area with the pews and the set-up in the front. The sign on the door says the building is open to visitors but warns that there are always cameras watching, and services are Saturday at six with a community dinner afterwards, thank you very much. It smells like styrofoam and Pinesol. JJ holds Chase in the pews, hugging him wearily. Henrik stands in the corner of the building, tracing his fingers over a glass box holding a huge scroll inside.

“Blue just needs some time,” offers JJ, trying to pull away enough to sign clearly, though Chase refuses to let him go. “Henrik too.”

“He’s so unhappy,” cries Chase. “I hate it, I hate this.”

It was never going to be clean. It was always going to be ugly as fuck and messy and miserable.

Fuck, even if they were still with Anti, things would be even worse.

“He was going to cut my voicebox out,” weeps Chase, stammering so hard he’s not sure JJ can understand him. “Didn’t he say that? He kept touching my throat. Said I didn’t need it cause we can all sign. I didn’t need to talk to anybody but you and him. We were going to be pets. He would have killed the others. It took me too long. It took me so long. If I had fought sooner, they wouldn’t be like this. Still messed up, yeah, but not this much. Not this bad. I should have fought for all of you sooner.”

He lets it come pouring out. The ugliness. If Blue won’t express it, he will.

It was never, never, never going to be anything other than this. Because “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is bullshit and all Anti did was hurt them. Now they have to come clawing their way back out of the traps he laid in their heads. Maybe they’ll be a little stronger, in some ways, but they’ll also be scarred up and vigilant. It’s traumatic in the same way grief is - it never really stops hurting. You just learn to deal with it better. Every day, if you can, you learn to deal with it better. But some days you just go falling back into the abyss, and you have to start climbing again.

He kisses JJ’s head fervently, one time, two times, again, because he needs to, because he loves him, because he’s sorry. JJ lets him. He smooths tears from his face and just holds him, for a long time.

Someone’s playing Clair de Lune in the other room. Chase covers his mouth, realizing he’s been too loud. Maybe they won’t judge. Not in a place like this.

Long, deep breaths. Long, deep gasps for air. He starts to calm down again. Jamie smells different than he used to. Different than Dapper, who usually smelled like chalk and old mattresses and copper. JJ smells like green apple detergent and coconut shampoo.

“Sorry,” mumbles Chase, realizing he’s gotten snot all over his new shirt, and JJ just shakes his head and presses their cheeks together, rubbing on him like a cat for a second.

“Do you think he’s thinking about it?” asks Chase, sniffling. “About whether he’s going to get some help or not? About if he’s going to be able to get past this?”

JJ nods. Chase nods back, headachey from his crying, and squeezes JJ’s ribs.

“Don’t know how to make it better,” he confesses weakly.

JJ draws away to sign, wiping more of his brother’s tears away as he goes. “It’s not your job to make it better,” he says. “If there’s anything you can do for him, he needs to let you know. But it’s not your job to keep anyone happy. Not anymore. Just you. Just work on making you happy.”

“But I want you all to be happy.”

Jameson grins and draws him back into a hug.

“Together. We’ll work on it together. It won’t be pretty… won’t be clean. But we keep working on it.”

Anonymous asked:

It's not your fault Chase. Don't put the weight of it all on your own shoulders, you'll tear yourself apart. You need to be focused on your own and Henrik's healing most of all right now. Blue is going through a lot, but it's completely reasonable to want to have space from him with how cruel and snappy he's being lately. It's not your job to fix everything. There are a lot of things for all of you to deal with individually, and you mustn't let one of you take on all the responsibility.

“You got too used to it,” signs JJ.

“To what?”

“Trying to make him happy.” JJ looks down at his hands. “Once he got sick of me. You would try to cheer him up or distract him so he wouldn’t come after the rest of us.”

“Did I?” He wipes at his face. “I don’t remember.”

“You were always trying to keep us all safe.” JJ leans against him, looking up at the ark. “We all tried to look out for each other when we could. But now… well, nobody’s being tortured, Chase. Nobody’s dying. We can prioritize ourselves instead of spending all our time worried about one of us being in literal imminent danger.”

“What if he is in danger?” asks Chase miserably. “With himself.”

“Then he needs to start expressing that so we can help,” JJ answers. “In the meantime, we have to look after ourselves, and if we get extra time or energy we’ll try to help each other. And all of us can help look after Henrik until he’s a little more… conscious.”

“He’s my responsibility,” protests Chase.

“We can all help, Chase. Even with him, you can take a break if you need one. We can all look after him. Which, uh, does beg the question… where did he go?”

Chase turns around. His brother is no longer standing by the Torah.

“Shit!”

Anonymous asked:

Uh oh, Doktor on the run! Maybe he went to where the music was coming from?

Chase scrambles to his feet and hurries back to the community area of the building, almost tripping over his feet as he goes. Shit, then he’s probably encountered the person playing the piano, and they’ve probably tried to engage with him, and he’s probably just stared at them, and then they could be mean to him, or think he’s an intruder, or yell at him, or -

But there’s just one person in the room.

Chase stills in the doorway of the partition, staring.

Henrik plays Clair de Lune perfectly, relaxed on the stool of the piano, his fingers drifting easily across the keys.

Anonymous asked:

Woah, Henrik knows piano? Even after so long without playing he can do it perfectly, that's amazing.

“Yeah,” says Chase frailly. “He, uh. He’s a genius. Always was. Even Anti would say that. But I didn’t know he played. I guess I forgot.”

Soft laughter from the piano. Henrik’s laughter.

Chase is frozen, staring at him. Henrik glances back at him and Jameson. His mouth smiles. His eyes are clear.

“Come here,” he signs with a free hand, beckoning. “Come over here.”

Anonymous asked:

Wh- Is Henrik back??! ;0;

Chase steps up to him, letting his hand come down on his shoulder, grounding himself there at his brother’s back. Henrik plays with one hand and reaches up to pull him to sit beside him with the other. He takes Chase’s hands and positions them on the piano.

“Do you remember the scales we were working on?” he asks.

He says it like it’s so normal that it makes Chase jolt on the stool. His voice… his voice like nothing has changed.

“Dok,” he whispers.

“Show me, then, come,” says Henrik, tapping his fingers on top of Chase’s.

“No, I… I don’t remember. Did we used to play?”

“You do not practice while I am at work! You will never learn.”

He’s teasing him. He’s playful.

“Dok, look at me,” begs Chase, pulling his gaze.

And he does. He just - he does. He looks at him.

“What?” asks Henrik, and then, when Chase does not answer: “Something is the matter?”

“Dok, do you know what’s going on? Do you know where we are?”

“Yes?” Henrik’s staring at him like he’s the crazy one. “Yes, home, in the living room. Are you alright? You have not been drinking?”

The warm sun is coming through the window of their house - Henrik can feel it on his face. It’s fall and the leaves of the trees are orange in the forest outside. Queenie leaps up onto the back of the piano and mewls at him.

“Bad girl, get down,” he scolds. “Jamie, are you making coffee? Will you get me a cup?”

Jameson comes up behind him and gives him a hug around his shoulders. Unexpected, but he does not mind. He is new to their family but he already fits right in.

He’s safe and things are good. He breathes out a low, satisfied hum. All is well in the world.

Anonymous asked:

Oh, uh.... Chase, JJ, do you guys know whether you should go along with him or try to bring him to the present time? He seems alright at least

“This could be him waking up,” says Chase, reaching out to cup Henrik’s face. “Dok, Henrik, it’s me, it’s Trick. Chase. We’re in Ireland. We got away from Anti, we’re safe! You can come back to me.”

“Chase,” JJ interrupts. “He’s not in any distress. Why don’t we just take it easy and see if he’ll come back to himself gently? This means he feels safe. It’s a good first step.”

“I want to talk to him.” Chase squeezes Henrik’s hand, pulling him away from the piano. “Deutsch, it’s me. He’s gone.”

“What is happening?” asks Henrik, eyes darkening. “Why are you talking like this? What’s wrong?”

scunneredzombie asked:

Chase, remember after his shutdowns sometimes Henrik would think he was existing back before Anti or he would forget where he was/who he was? This might be a more extreme version of that. Let him come around slowly.

Chase glances at the camera, his mouth tightening, but he gives a small nod, blinking. He looks back at Henrik and Henrik stares at him, obviously confused. Henrik glances around the room, seeming to take in the brick walls and the camera in Chase’s bag for the first time, and Chase sees his eyes start to glaze -

“Schneep,” he says quickly, taking his hand. “Show me how to do the scales again. I’m paying attention now.”

Henrik looks at the piano and settles down again, shooting Chase a look. “You never learn,” he teases. “Okay, set your fingers here…”

Chase lets his brother arrange his fingers. He wishes Henrik were all the way here, yes. But he thinks you’re probably right, and he just needs to be patient, and be glad to have this part of him.

Talking! He’s talking! His heart lifts and he smiles as Henrik starts showing him how to play the scale, chattering at him while Jameson stands beside them, watching along.

“How often do you play, Henrik?”

“You know I’m out here often,” he murmurs back, his free hand beginning a melody on the right side of the piano. “Even at night, after a long shift. But I try to be quiet then. Of course sometimes my more nocturnal brothers join me.”

He clucks JJ’s chin, pinching his beard.

“Are you happy?” asks Chase wistfully.

Henrik grins at him oddly. “What’s gotten into you? Things are good, my friend. What is happiness if not peace and a place in the world where you are loved.”

Beethoven down the keys of the piano, easy and affectionate.

Anonymous asked:

Henrik, how often do you play? Do you know Hava Nagila??

“Oh, boy, how Jewish am I?” snickers Henrik. “Hava Nagila, hava…”

He plays the first few lines and breaks down laughing, shaking his head. “What, I’m Jewish so I know Hava Nagila? Okay, yes, fine, I do. But I know everything. Because I’m smarter than everyone. Checkmate.”

Anonymous asked:

Hava Nagila is just my favourtie old tune haha! Of course you knew it though, no one is smarter then Henrik von Schneeplestein

“Yes, that’s true. You are not only correct but you also have good taste in music.”

Anonymous asked:

Is Henrik... back? Has he woken up? It seems at least part of him has!

Watching Henrik switch through a variety of songs - mostly at JJ’s request, Chase feels a little bit better. Here’s a part of him. Here’s… him, just a little lost. And aren’t they all?

Chase has been thinking more about Dok than Henrik for a long time now. But Henrik isn’t so different than his Dok that it makes any difference, it seems. Henrik is just a more egotistical, less scared, happier Dok. Chase snickers as Henrik melds two songs together within five seconds of JJ’s request and then congratulates his own intelligence. Isn’t this what he’s supposed to be like? Isn’t this what safety looks like on him?

He doesn’t mind. If Henrik is a little confused, he doesn’t mind.

It’s still him.

Anonymous asked:

Anti always said that you were just a more anxious Chase and he was just a quieter Henrik... Maybe you guys didn't change so much after all, hm.

Chase tentatively plays along as Henrik shows him Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. “Maybe we didn’t. Are we good friends, Henrik?”

“Course we are. Who else help you look after the children and pick you up from the party when you are dumb enough to go somewhere there is probably beer? And then you must cook me cheesecake as payment, is only fair.”

“Ah, is that what you like?”

“It’s what I demand.”

Chase laughs. He wonders how Blue and Red and Dapper can seem so different to who they used to be while Henrik doesn’t feel so different from Dok at all. Maybe they just… had each other to hold onto for longer. Someone who always knew that secret name - that secret person they used to be. They never had to be alone.

Chase and Henrik play a timid lullaby, laughing over the keys of the piano.

Anonymous asked:

Do you have any memories of where you are, Schneep..? Would you still feel okay if we told you you're not at home?

“Of where I am?”

Queenie meows at him from the couch. He glances over, but she isn’t there. The house is cool for a moment, and then growing warmer.

Henrik blinks. Looks around.

Something not quite right.

A smell of smoke in the air.

Where’s your hero now? Where’s Jack to save you and your little time traveler now? I’ll burn everything you love to the fucking ground. Just try to run, I’ll find you anywhere. I’ll stalk you til you collapse at my feet.

Henrik stares. A fire has caught along the edges of the door of their home. Outside, the trees are burning.

Chase grabs his shoulders, speaking to him, though Henrik cannot make out the words. He lays his head down on Chase’s shoulder almost on instinct, staring as everything around him begins to change. He hears the cat scream. His head hurts.

“Oh,” he murmurs, as Chase’s hand rises to touch his cheek. “Oh, who did this to you? Why did you not call me?”

He examines Chase’s hand. There is a marred, puckered section of skin, burned badly, maybe down to the bone. Henrik feels sorrow and then fear. He can hear Chase crying. He closes his eyes. He needs to hide. He needs to - needs to go away, needs to - survive this somehow, survive this somehow…

“Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you,” a dark voice growls. “We’re done. You’re useless to me. And that means I’m finally going to slaughter one of you little fucking bastards like I should have done a long time ago.”

“Anti - Anti, n-no more, no more… I want my brothers, I want…”

“No cameras, Dok, no siblings, and no more fucking pretending. I’ll show you just how much of a monster I really am. Just you, me, and a length of barbed wire. I’ve heard that Jews believe you die twice - once when your body gives out and one when everyone forgets you. I’ll be the one who kills you both times, Henrik.”

A line of wire clatters across the floor.

“That’s a promise.”

scunneredzombie asked:

Henrik, stay calm. Anti is dead. Anti is dead and you're free. You have a home with all of your brothers again, an apartment where you all live safely. You have Noodle and Chase and all your siblings who love you and regret not being there to protect you. You are safe and loved still, even if you aren't in the mirror portal you remember.

Henrik doesn’t shake or cry out as his memories swallow him up.

“Dok,” calls Chase, holding his shoulders tight. “Look at me, stay with me. You’re okay. I promise. We been looking after you. It’s okay now. It’s okay.”

His head just sinks down until his chin hits his chest, his eyes sliding shut and his posture curling, like he can hide himself from everything in the world. Chase tries to be gentle with him, tries to ground him at the same time. Soft hands on him. Murmuring to him. Trying not to let him know he’s scared.

After a while, Henrik’s breathing steadies out again. Chase soothes his finger across his chin, trying to draw his gaze, and Schneep looks up at him with big, sorrowful eyes.

Chase sighs and lays his head down on his twin’s shoulder. JJ pecks at the keys of the piano, and after another minute, Henrik takes an interest. He puts a hand out and plays a shy scale, sniffling a little and sitting up, calm again, but silent.

Anonymous asked:

"And just as there is wonder in / every new life created / there is sadness and regret / for the unsaid and unfeted / Just listen for the music / that your ears cannot hear / just strain yourself for the melody / that's so far and yet so near"

Henrik goes back to Clair de Lune, slower now, sweeter.

JJ and Chase sit in silence beside him. When he’s finished, Chase rubs his back until he glances over at him.

“That’s okay, man,” says Chase quietly. “You can just hide a while longer if you need to.”

Henrik gazes at him.

“Ready to go?” Chase asks his brothers, trying not to be sad.

JJ nods. “Maybe if he wakes up in the apartment, he’ll feel safer there. With the cat and your bed and everything.”

“And I can bring him back for services sometime.”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be okay?”

“Yeah. It’ll all be okay.”

“Okay. Come on.”

immabethehero asked:

You did it! You’re out the woods, I’m so proud of you guys! You deserve to relax and enjoy your peaceful lives.

JJ laughs quietly, watching Chase talk to Henrik quietly on the bus, the pair of them pressed close together.

“Out of the woods… well, the trees get thinner every day, at least. Yes. Let’s go home and relax a little.”

[master-of-fluff]

Bit of a rant

Istfg I just stepped in dog crap again because no one wants to train the dog or take it out long enough to crap or whatever it is that it needs and I'm so tired of it and so pissed both because of m poor sock and for the dog

Because I knew this would happen when my dumbass sister said she wanted a dog I freaking told my stupid parents not to get he damn dog.

she didn't take care of her rabbit and her guinea pigs so what in the hell made them think she'd take care of, train, and clean up after a dog?

Her? The same person who threw a crying screaming on the ground tantrum because my brother threw a damn 'party' in the same roblox server as her at the same time as her at fucking 11 years of age? The same intutled brat that throws a fit when asked to do any chores now at almost 13? And you thought this would be a good idea?

How can anyone be this stupid????

Oh and they wanna complain about her animal neglect now?

Where was this when she didnt wanna take care of the other pets anymore? Oh wait they probably didnt even notice because instead of being responsible parents and fixing the mistake of buying an animal for someone who wasnt ready for one like most parents would via taking the animal on as their own they just made their eldest, me, do it.

And i knew it was an especially bad idea since they didn't even bother to learn enough about those last three pets or this one, or any of our pets to know what they needed and then got sad when the dang rabbit and pigs died earlier then they should've even though i and my friend told them they need better cages and bedding but we were "just kids and they were adults so we didn't know better then them and what we were talking about" (wtf was my dad on when he said that he's literally never had a pet before cuz my grandma on that side is literally scared of animals)

And now that iv made it clear that I'm not going to be the one to do it again (I mean ofc ill take him out sometimes if asked I'm not gonna be cruel to the poor thing it didn't ask to be here anymore then I did but there's no way in fuck I'm gonna go out of my way to take care of it like I tried to with the others like iv been down this path quite a few times and I'm not going down it again) they have to deal with it and surprise, surprise! they like it just as much as raising their kids (barely tolerating it)

Istg I wanna give that dog to someone else that'll actually take care of it, hell even my sister wants to give it to someone that'll do a better job but my mom is like

"no we take time care of him fine and the toddlers are too attached to teddy it would hurt them" it'll hurt even more when we're all in the hospital for breathing in too much dog poop bacteria that's probably permanently imbedded into the carpet and then animal services or whatever take him by force since no one but me actually cleans it up and only if its in my room or a communal space like seriously I'm not cleaning it up if its in my brothers room istg that is as much my responsibility as the dog itself is my responsibility.

he should keep his door closed since he's lucky enough to both not have the dog's cage in his room and also have a door.

And you know what else? The easiest solution would be to fix the backyard fence and put in a doggy door - with a lock to keep the raccoons out ofc - but fat chance my dads gonna fix the fence or ask any of our family to do so, like literally you just have to fix the 2 gates not even the whole fence but that's apparently too hard so ig I'll have to figure that out myself after getting a job or whatever ffs

[frogsandfries]

My sister is lowkey killing me

She saw I had strawberries in my drink and she asked me if I asked to use her strawberries.

._. Are you fucking actually kidding me? If you were staying in my home for going on three weeks, I'd buy you food. You'd be welcome to anything in my pantry unless I told you no. I can communicate "hey, don't drink my cocoa until I can buy more" "don't go in the candy box unless you're going to use caution" "don't drink the alcohol".

What the fuck kind of person accuses someone in their home of stealing food? It's not like I'm couch surfing or invited myself for three weeks.

Her place is a mess. I guess I understand that she's moving, but a) she hasn't done anymore organizing or made any apparent moves toward further packing, and b) the place is only a tiny bit more neat than it was than when I got here..........through my own voluntary actions and her bullying.

I want even ready to move and my place was neat and organized. Even if I'd torn all of my furniture apart, it would've just looked like I was doing a furniture assembly gig. I'm having a hard time contemplating how an absolute mountain of clothes is ready to go. She also doesn't have any boxes or containers. The place just is a mess. And I've seen her rooms in college. While the main living spaces have been neat while living with others, her personal space is always a mess.

The point being, I know this isn't my house. I'm not walking around leaving dirty dishes and food packaging and used tissues wherever I feel like. I'm so stressed, my shoulders are wrapped up somewhere near my ears. I'm on edge. I'm surrounded by four cats who are not mine. I was left on charge of them, plus four guinea pigs, a hedgehog, and a house-training puppy.

None of which I agreed to. Not the four guinea pigs. Not the trying to help house-train a puppy. Not the cats all constantly hissing at each other. It's exhausting. I have a job. I'm earning money. I just paid three leases by myself. I'm not the one buying more fake nails and junk jewelry than I could ever use. I'm not the animal hoarder.

I think it's deflection. If you focus on everything I'm doing less than perfectly, maybe you can deflect from how you're falling short on your frankly unrealistic standards. I don't usually like to hit below the belt like this, but I think this is really demonstrative of why she doesn't seem able to hold onto relationships. I don't necessarily agree that it has anything to do with her fuckability.

I never should've accepted to live with her. I should've told her, well, this is what you get for taking out a mortgage you can't actually afford.

She just came in here and turned off the fucking light and I can't fucking argue with her; I'm at work, on the phones. We're in this dark ass room and I know it looks like I'm just on my fucking computer, but I'm at work.

I've worked a certain way for nearly four years: Absolutely quiet to my own ears, with a sound baffle and as close as I can get to industrial lighting without fluorescent lights.

This environment is incredibly noisy. Even with the windows closed, it sounds like I'm working right outside on the road. There's no sound baffle, so despite my best efforts, I end up yelling. I'm doing my best to get through this short period and go back to virtual isolation where I don't have to be woken by the sudden uptick of traffic at four in the morning, or someone scrambling to get to work at four in the morning. Where I don't have to deal with anyone telling me how to use their space as my workspace.

I'm supposed to be working with her, but it feels like she doesn't have to work with me, she can just tell me how to do and be and I'm just sick of it and I just want to get through these next two weeks and go back to as close to life as normal.

I can't even whine to our middle sister because she'll just stir the fucking pot like she's not nearly thirty herself with two kids.

[magizombi]

Posting this for my reference bc the vent app is dying its a long rant sorry

I was up til 3 am so I am probably gonna pass out again soon but I had a lot of fun last night

But also like that was. In spite of my roommate

So like last weekend, when I tried shrooms for the first time, this roommate(fiances ex-ish)had a whole Problem basically where they violated my fiances boundaries and space by biting them super hard and then repeatedly trying to pressure them into giving them a kiss so my fiance was like I need to not try shrooms for the first time with this person bc they make me feel unsafe and they communicated that with the person. Then when my fiance and I took the shrooms my roommate was sitting in the living room crying loudly for almost the entire night and made me have a pretty bad trip. Like there were good and fun moments but most of my trip was spent trying to stave off anxiety so I wasn't ruining my fiances trip worrying abt the roommate and then when my fiance came down before me I literally spiraled jnto a really intense panic attack and like roommate was told I got sent into a panic attack bc I was worrying abt them

So tell me why. Yesterday. I had an lsd tab left and was planning to take it and have fun with my fiance for the night(we did in spite of this it was great). And bc my fiance hadn't hung out with roommate all day(fiance has chronic fatigue which is exacerbated by stress so they've been sleeping a lot of the time lately)and then didn't do a group smoke with me and them when I got home from work they were like loudly crying at night once again. And like they sent my fiance a message asking if they weren't coming out anymore last night and my fiance was clear that like I had just dropped acid and th3y were watching over me and stuff and TELL ME WHY this bitch started crying LOUDER and I almost started freaking out again(luckily acid isn't as strong as shrooms to me or I would have had a horrible fucking time!!!). My fiance took me outside to smoke more and I was able to get it under control but like when we came back inside to like. Resume what we were doing I literally had to take a few minutes to get myself back into it even tho I really wanted to do it bc while we were getting back into it my mind was legit starting to race and be anxious again abt roommate so I'm just upset at them.

On one level I feel guilty that they came out here and their relationship didn't work out and I feel like they blame me for it bc I was reacting unhealthy to them moving in bc I never wanted them to. But on ANOTHER level this person gave me bad vibes the second I talked to them the first time. They have a huge lying problem. They don't respect my fiances boundaries. They lied abt being okay with noise so they could sleep in our living room and now i gotta tiptoe in the main areas of the house all the time which sets me off bc of the violent trap house I used to live in. They lied abt coming up here to help my fiance and take care of them and instead are incompetent at everything and want my fiance to do everything for them. They also are fucking weird abt food they won't put their name on food they want to save and will say it's for everyone but then they'll be upset that people eat the stuff they said was for everyone and didn't mark??? They keep tallies of everything like that and apparently they were bitching to my fiance abt how I never buy popcorn bc I've eaten some of what they bought BECAUSE THEY LITERALLY SAID THEY BOUGHT IT FOR ME TOO AND PUT NO FUCKING EXPECTATION OIT THERE THAT I COMPENSAT3 THEM OR ANYTHING so I'm just not gonna eat it anymore idk I'm anxious about what I eat I'm anxious about what I do with my time bc this person has decided my fiance and I are the only sources of social stimulation they'll ever seek out I literally feel guilty for wanting quality time with my fiance

Like we had planned for last night a few days in advance and I was really looking forward to it and then I just ended up feeling guilty abt doing it and being like oh no we didn't warn them when it's like they aren't. A PART OF MY FUCKING RELATIONSHIP. They don't need to know what we're doing!!! I'm so sick of them dude and I feel like I have no right to be bc the first bit of them living here was hell bc I was so toxic and having emotional regulation problems from being forced to live with someone I didn't know and then found out I didn't like but I'm in therapy now and have been really improving myself a lot and they're just. Talking to their therapist about TV shows and wanting to avoid therapy altogether otherwise. My fiance took a break from their r3lationshop bc this bitch is so codependent and wanted way more from my fiance than they could give - which they literally told them- and now whenever there's even the slightest hint at them acting like they're in a relationship again they think it's a free for all t disrespect their boundaries and try to act like they're dating again without them ever having worked on their shit. I'm worried and I'm stressed and I don't trust this person in my house. There's no feasible way to get them the fuck away from me for AT LEAST another fucking year so idek what I'm supposed to do here! I hate living like this and I hate feeling like I'm being held hostage by this person's emotions and codependency issues and I hate feeling like I can't feel this way bc I'm working through my own issues like maybe I deserve to have them ruin my trip every time I have one lmao

Now they're hungover apparently and I'm like u really drank a bunch of alcohol and made yourself super fucjing sick because my fiance didn't hang out with you for one. Fucking. Day.

[icemankazansky]

heeeeeeeey the server I've been using for at least ten years told us they were closing in february, which sucked on its own, but surprise they deleted everything at the end of October! this is definitely a thing I wanted to be dealing with right now when I have eight million other things to deal with and the fortitude of a shipwreck victim washed up on the beach

[zhanyes]

Tianshan dating headcannons because i also love these two dumbasses too

Also dedicated to @el-mundo-real who requested tianshan headcannons 🖤

. . .

- Literally no one knows whether they’re dating or not. Not even themselves because they don’t talk about it

- Jian yi thinks they’re dating already and Zhengxi says they’re still getting there (somehow they’re both right) and they make a bet

- He tian likes staying over at Mo’s and he’s gotten pretty close to mama Mo

- Mama Mo teaches him how to knit !! He tried to knit a scarf for Mo but it came out a little messy and tangled. Mo still wears it anyway saying it’s a waste of yarn if not used (He’s actually really touched)

- He eats dinner there about 5 times a week and sleeps over thrice a week. He’s a permanent fixture in the house now, he has his own plate and mug, utensils, toothbrush, a spare key, and more than half of his closet migrated to Mo’s closet

- Sometimes Mo “accidentally” wears He tian’s sweaters and He tian dies a little bit every time

- Sometimes He tian deliberately wears Mo’s clothes and it’s always tighter and a bit shorter on his body so when he moves his arms the shirt rides up. Mo guanshan shouts at him to change and to stop contaminating his clothes but his ears are red anyway

- They bicker A LOT. Over the smallest things because He tian loves riling him up and Mo gets riled up too easily

He tian, for the 7th time in 5 minutes: “What does this thing do?”

Mo guanshan, losing his mind: “THAT’S A FUCKING MICROWAVE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK IT DO?!”

- There are times when homicide is the best option

Mo Guanshan: “I acknowledge that I can be mean sometimes-”

He tian, in the bathtub: “Sometimes?”

Mo Guanshan: “Shut the fuck up. So I brought you a bath bomb as a peace offering.”

He tian: “That’s a fucking toaster.”

Mo guanshan: “Exactly. A bath bomb.”

- Contrary to what his actions say, Mo guanshan is actually relieved that He tian spends most of his time in their apartment. He tian never told him but he can see how lonely the other teenager is

- Mo guanshan tries to teach He tian chores because He tian knows nothing about cleaning or doing everyday things

Mo guanshan: “How the fuck do you not know how to wash dishes where the hell do you eat?!”

He tian, drinking milk straight out the carton: “Obviously on plates, Momo. I just throw them away after.”

Mo guanshan, sputtering: “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THROW OUT PLATES?!”

- The first and only recipe that He tian managed to cook successfully is instant noodles with boiled egg that’s not quite cooked enough. Sometimes he brings Mo noodles as breakfast in bed and he looks so proud of it Mo has a hard time saying that the noodles are overcooked and that noodles aren’t exactly breakfast food (he eats it anyway)

- Mo sometimes, only sometimes, brings He tian grocery shopping because he needs to learn how to buy food for himself. Somehow He tian always ends up in the miscellaneous section where he has a pack of ballpens he’ll never use, 2 journals he’ll also never use, a couple of scented candles, various dog clothes and leashes for the dog he doesn’t have, a couple’s mug, and a vase in his cart

- He tian stopped trying to barge into Mo guanshan’s bed and sleeps on the futon on the floor beside it. It’s not the most comfortable and he had a hard time sleeping on it at first but he likes being in Mo’s company even while sleeping

- Sometimes Mo would move in his sleep and leave his arm dangling on the side of the bed, He tian grabs it of course and Mo wakes up to sweaty palms. He still leaves it for a few moments before harshly slapping away He tian’s hand

- Mo’s hands aren’t smooth at all because of working all the time and practicing the guitar but He tian loves them all the same. He likes to feel the contrast in textures with his slightly smoother hands

- He tian has a thousand pictures of Mo guanshan sleeping in various angles and poses. He has his favorites framed and keeps it on his bedside table in his apartment so when he’s sleeping there he still feels like they’re sleeping together

- Mo guanshan has a few of He tian sleeping but he swears up and down that he'll never do anything as disgusting as that. He makes one of them his wallpaper.

- Sometimes when they don’t feel like sleeping yet they stay up talking and arguing about random things

Mo guanshan: “Why would aliens be in space? The ocean is definitely the way to go.”

He tian: “But why would they be in the ocean? They’ll drown.”

Mo guanshan: “They’re aliens maybe they have gills or some shit.”

He tian: “I’m telling you they’re not in the ocean, Mo.”

Mo guanshan: “And I’m telling you you’re wrong, bastard.”

- On rare days they would stay up talking about their pasts and about life in general, with the lights closed and the only source of light is the moonlights from the window

- One of these nights, Mo told He tian about what happened to his dad and their restaurant, why they’re in so much debt over it and He tian holds Mo’s hand tightly throughout

- He knew better than to say that he could pay for that debt so Mo doesn’t need to worry anymore (He still says it anyway and Mo blew a fuse) but he swore to help Mo through other means

- The next day he orders a whole carton of mangoes, apples and peaches in his apartment and learns how to peel properly through youtube and Zhengxi

- He goes to Mo’s part time job in the grocery and helps him peel fruits, Mo guanshan doesn’t mention anything when he notices the bandaids on the other’s hands but he does cook him beef stew for dinner

- As expected He tian’s presence brings more customers and the manager asks if he wants to work there permanently but he said he’s only working for Mo so the manager can give Mo a raise instead

- Once, Mo got sick so he missed his part time job for the day (He was supposed to give away flyers on the streets) and got extra pissy because He tian didn’t visit him and wouldn’t answer his phone 

- Apparently He tian took over his job for the day and he only finds out when he goes to the manager and the manager asks when his ‘boyfriend’ can come back to work again because the customers love him

- He tian almost never talks about himself but once he talked about the puppy who disappeared after he saves it and then found out that it’s still alive after all these years

- Mo keeps quiet about it the whole time he was talking and the next few days he takes time to knit a small dog plushie and leaves it on He tian’s futon

- He tian didn’t cry, he didn’t (he did), but he hugged Mo and whispered a sincere thank you. For once, Mo lets it happen

- Mo quickly regrets his decision when He tian names the plushie “Chicken sandwich”

- He tian brings Mo in a lot of not-dates (according to Mo) like arcades, ocean parks, festivals, and fairs because he didn’t get to go as a kid and he wants to experience it for the first time with Mo

- They get crazy competitive in every game. Every. Single. One. If it’s a co-op shooting game they would compete on who kills the most enemies, if it’s a harmless crane game it becomes a competition of who can get the most plushies

- They both each have a photobooth strip. Mo keeps his as a bookmarker in a journal, and He tian has his in the back of his phone.

- They go on a double not-date with Jian yi and Zhengxi and it ends up in almost getting chased by a police car at 2 am in pokemon onesies and holding a bag of chips 

- Sometimes Mo would visit his dad in prison and just rant to him about He tian

Mo guanshan: “The nerve of that guy to do something like that in front of a teacher urgh.”

Papa Mo: “Your boyfriend sounds like a fun guy, son. I want to meet him soon.”

Mo guanshan: “BO-BOYFRIEND?!”

Papa Mo: “Yes???”

Mo guanshan: “No??? That bastard isn’t my boyfriend??”

Papa Mo: “Are you sure about that?”

Mo guanshan: “...Yes?”

- Enter gay panique because he doesn’t actually know whether He tian is his boyfriend or not

- They don’t call each other boyfriends and they never talked about it so no??? But they’re also not just friends so maybe??? Do they go on dates?? Can grocery trips be considered dates??

- He rings up Jian yi and the blonde just laughed for 5 minutes straight without stopping and he wonders how he’s still breathing

Mo Guanshan, after hearing Jian yi laughing for 5 minutes: “Are you fucking done?”

Jian yi, trying to catch his breath: “Man this is some top-tier entertainment.”

Mo guanshan: “WELL?!”

Jian yi: “Look bro literally no one knows whether you’re dating, fucking, planning each other’s murder OR planning a murder together.”

Mo guanshan: “What if it’s all of the above?”

Jian yi: “Then congratulations…? Please don’t murder me?”

Mo guanshan: “Urgh you’re fucking useless I should have called Zhengxi.”

Jian yi: “Wait don’t, I don’t wanna lose the bet. How about this, there’s a festival upcoming for couples and families, if He tian asks you then you’re probably, maybe, dating?”

Mo guanshan: “That’s stupid. AND WHAT BET?!”

Jian yi: “Ah woops gotta water my dog.”

- Mo tells himself that it’s stupid and there’s no way he’s falling for that...but he feels disappointed anyway when He tian doesn’t ask him the following days

- He tian asks on the last day before the festival, but he asks mama Mo first and Mo guanshan second cuz he wants to celebrate with both of them. He confessed that he’s never actually went to a festival with a family before so he was trying to build up courage to ask

- Mo guanshan is an absolute goner after that

- On the day of the festival, they find Zhanyi there on a date but decide to leave them alone. While they were leaving Jian yi kept throwing Mo guanshan so much winks that Zhengxi thought he got something in his eye

- The festival was fun but Mo couldn’t take his eyes off how happy and content He tian looks

- Queue cliche fireworks scene but it’s He tian being amazed by the fireworks and Mo looking mesmerized at him thinking, “Ah, I want him to look at me like that.”

- The next day, he drags He tian to visit his dad in jail

Papa mo: “Oh this is a surprise, you’ve never brought someone before?”

He tian, trying to introduce himself: “Hello, sir. I’m He tian, Mo guanshan’s fri-”

Mo guanshan, cuts him off: “Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend, dad.”

He tian:

[r0zyp0zy0zy]

✾❃S.H+D.K- A Bisexual Mess✶

Make a request!

Master list

Warnings: Smut, threesome, spit roasting, suggested poly relationship

Words: 3407

Pairing(s): Kaminari Denki x Sero Hanta x FEM!reader

Summary: Being attracted to your friend is weird, and your boyfriend having a crush on him too is even weirder. 

Ok so I might’ve gotten carried away and prepared a basket instead... oops. Enjoy!

Part two

===NSFW UNDER THE CUT===

Sero Hanta always bragged about you to his friends, which wasn't a secret by any means. Well, not a secret to anybody except you. What can he say? You're perfect to him, and who's he to keep that information to himself? He would spew everything he loved about you and more, infuriating Bakugo and making Kaminari jealous.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, really! Well, not at first. Buuut... your pretty little boyfriend mentioned your name in his conversation with the Bakusquad, and you couldn't help it. You stood quietly outside of your home office— the only place in the house you allowed Hanta to smoke —and leaned as close to the door as you dared.

"She's just so perfect," you broke into a smile at Sero's words.

"Will you stop bragging about y/n-chan?" Kaminari groaned dramatically from within the room, "I almost can't take it anymore! You know that I like her. Stop making me jealous on purpose because I can't have her!"

Your eyes widened slightly at Kaminari's words. He did? Since when? Well, that was a silly thing to think; Kami has probably had a crush on everyone in high school at one point or another. But the fact that he just admitted it to Hanta was straight-up bold.

"Yeah I know," you heard Sero smirk, "ever since you've heard about her magic mouth you've wanted a piece."

"-wha? Wrong. I've had a crush on her longer than that!" Kaminari argued. You could hear Mina in the back cracking up.

"Will you two shut up?!" Bakugo yelled, rattling the door. "Every fucking time I'm here is all 'y/n this' and 'y/n that' ok we gET IT, THE TWO OF YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH HER!"

You stood in their silence for a moment, trying to process that holy shit, the Mega-Virgin Kaminari has a crush on you, even before you sucked Hanta off for the first time! What was happening?

"K'mon, bro," Kirishima chided, and you heard the slap of his hand land on Bakugo's back. "Chill out, take another hit. Y/n-san might pop in if she hears too much noise."

"Whatever, 'tch," Bakugo huffed, "kinda wanna go home anyway, you nerds don't have anything interesting to talk about."

You quietly hurried away to your shared bedroom at the sound of footsteps, pretending that you hadn't just heard Hanta openly talk about your 'magic mouth', and Kaminari's confession. You could still feel the flustered blush on your cheeks as Kirishima and Bakugo walked down the hall to the front door, the latter grumbling about "those damn nerds".

"Wait, guys," Mina called to them, "I don't want to be stuck with those love-sick idiots!"

After Kiri offered to buy the pink girl an Uber home and the front door was shut, all you could hear was the muffled conversation a room over. You snuck back to the office door, and pressed your ear against it.

"-s-stop!" You heard Kaminari stutter.

"Never! It's so fun to make you flustered over my girl," you playfully shook your head at Hanta's words. Typical Sero move.

It was silent for a few minutes, broken soon after with a, "dude! What the hell?" From Hanta.

"I- it's- it's your fault!" Kaminari retorted, apparently spinning around in the squeaky office chair.

"You-," Sero burst out laughing, "you got hard just from me talking about her! Bet it was the part I told you when y/n and I were at that one restaurant-."

"S-shut up!" Kaminari squeaked.

Your face flushed considerably pinker. Right here, right now, were two boys that were sexually attracted to you on the other side of the door. You felt your stomach flip and twist in excitement at the new feeling.

"It's kinda cute that you're so into her," you heard Hanta tease. "You're always a blushing mess, and just stuttering over your words."

"Damn S-sero," Denki said grouchily, "stop making fun of me."

You couldn't help but press your ear completely against the door, the two boys inside were too high to notice the shadow under the door anyway. Was Hanta... Flirting?

"I'm not making fun of you," Sero paused. "I'm just calling you cute."

You drowned out the rest of their conversation with your thoughts, trying to connect dots together. Hanta was a little suspicious at times from what you could see over his shoulder. Suspicious of what, exactly? Being gay, or at least bisexual. You saw him close tabs of soft-core gay porn occasionally, and you even accidentally stumbled upon Sero's old diary from years back. You didn't worry too much about it, but now... was he suppressing his feelings? Was he about to cheat on you?

Your heart dropped at that thought. Hanta was a nice guy and he wouldn't do that to you, right? He wouldn't lie about loving you. Not after what you heard earlier. Or was that just to fluster Kaminari? You shook your head in an attempt to clear your mind, and tuned back in on the two boys.

"-AH—! Wait!" You heard Sero panic, "I didn't- I shouldn't've-!"

".. shouldn't have kissed me?" Denki squeaked quietly so you had to strain to hear.

What on Earth did you miss while you were spaced out?

"Well- I was just thinking about h-how cute you are, and I forgot that I can't kiss someone who isn't my partner!" Hanta stressed, "god why do I have to love both of you..."

Your eyebrows raised at that, and listened in a little harder. Did you hear that right? Sero had a crush on Kaminari?

Honestly you couldn't blame him when the blond was so undeniably attractive, especially with the smudged black eyeliner on the corners of his eyes and the lightning bolt streak in his hair. You wouldn't lie that you liked him a bit too, but you suppressed those feelings for Hanta.

"I- I can go if you want," Kaminari mumbled, voice cracking slightly.

"Er- if you want. I don't mind chilling with you a bit longer. Just— don't tell y/n what happened. I- I'll tell her later when I figure out what to say," Hanta said.

"You sure she won't get mad at you?" Said a concerned Denki. "I know how much you love her, and I don't want you two to break it off.."

"Weeelll," Sero dragged on nervously, "y/n is very understanding, a-and I also need to tell her a few other things anyway."

You headed towards the living room, hearing all you needed to. You honestly didn't exactly know what to think about what just happened. Hanta kissed Denki, who likes you, and you that likes Hanta who also likes Denki. What even.

You sat comfortably on the couch, watching the last of the sun meander under the horizon. You nervously tapped on your phone after playing games on it for about an hour, waiting for Kaminari to leave so you could talk with Hanta. You finally heard the office door open, and you turned your head. Sero shuffled towards you with a sleeping Denki in his arms. The blonde's mouth was wide open and snoring lightly, drool going halfway down his chin.

"Uh," Hanta said awkwardly, "help."

You giggled and jumped up from your to help your boyfriend position Kaminari on the couch, who immediately latched onto a pillow mumbling incoherently.

"Whatta dude," you stated, fists on your hips.

"Yeah..." Hanta scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, I have to talk to you about something. It's pretty serious so we can wait until later if you want."

"Nah," you shook your head, "you've seemed off lately, and I'm guessing you just need it off your chest."

"Well, if you don't mind," Hanta plopped down on the love seat. You kneeled over to lean your head on his knee as he sucked in a shaky breath. "I- Um. I- I think I'm Bi."

You nodded your head understandingly, taking his hand in yours. "Ok, baby. Thank you for telling me."

"—there is o-one more thing I-I have to confess," Sero shook, "just please don't hit or yell at me."

"I would never, baby. I'm here for you," you looked up at him encouragingly, giving him a smile.

"O-ok. Uh, I kinda, well... I kinda kissed Kami. O-on the lips," Hanta's eyes looked away from yours, floating to the floor.

"Do you regret it?" You asked, keeping a calm exterior.

"Uh- I dunno. I do because I'm with you.. but... I- I think I don't," Sero looked incredibly guilty, and he squeezed your hand, "I love you, b-but I also have a crush on him..."

"That's ok," you reassured, reaching up to turn his head back to you, "I don't mind if you want to be in a relationship with him too, separately or not."

Hanta looked incredibly surprised, and a smile split his face, "really?!"

"Yes really," you giggled, kissing his cheek. "I can share you."

Sero, being the genius he was, suggested introducing Denki into the relationship with a threesome. Totally not skipping a few steps or anything.

"Are you sure he'd be willing to do that?" You had asked. "He's a virgin to basically everything."

"Oh, he'd be willing alright," Hanta smirked. "I'll message him about it then?"

"Mhm," you nodded, "it'll be fun. We'll get to tease him."

Denki was freaking out. Actually, he was more than freaking out. He was freaking out and jerking off. Multitasking. He could not believe his eyes when he opened Sero's text message, four glorious words: 'wanna have a threesome?'

Of course, Denki had asked if his friend had been joking or not before opening up his mind to fantasies. He got off rather quickly, though who could blame him. He swore that his libido was abnormally high, because even the thought of you, (and Sero as well), would get him flustered and he would pop a boner.

The next day when he came over, his teeth brushed and pubes trimmed, he stood outside your apartment door for at least a minute before knocking. His mind would keep circling the same thoughts: 'Sero just wants you to embarrass yourself in front of her', 'he told y/n about your crush and now they want to laugh at you', 'holy fuck is this actually happening', and 'I hope Sero actually doesn't mind sharing'.

"Sup, man," Hanta grinned as he opened the door for his blushing crush, a far too casual greeting for the situation about to unfold.

"H-hey," Kaminari grinned back, shuffling inside and slipping off his shoes.

"Y/n's just making up a snack so we can chat before uh, y'know," Hanta held back his blush, already nervous because damn, did Denki put on eyeliner or something? He looked hotter than usual.

"Take a seat in the living room, I'm almost done!" You called from the kitchen as you poured one last cup of tea. You carried the tray of tea and homemade cookies to the coffee table, and sat yourself down on the love seat. You couldn't lie— you were nervous as shit at the moment. You looked up as Hanta led a very flustered and anxious Kaminari behind him, and you gave a comforting wave.

"H-hi," Kaminari squeaked, sitting himself on the couch in front of you. He rubbed the sweat off his hands on his pants, trying to avoid your gaze.

"Hey!" You greeted kindly with a smile.

"Alright so now what," Hanta stated, plopping himself beside Denki only looking slightly nervous.

"We discuss boundaries!" You said cheerfully. You reached over for your cup and took a sip. "Any hard no's?"

"Kaminari's not fucking you," Hanta crossed his arms. "Not yet, I want it to be more special than this..."

Denki choked on his drink, sputtering on his tea.

"Kami, any hard no's?" you steered. 

"U-uh not right now," the electric blond stuttered, eyeing Sero nervously.

"Ok great!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands together, "the safe word Hanta and I use is 'soy sauce'."

"That's two-."

"Yeah same difference," you waved Kaminari off. "Anyway, my hard no's are just don't hit me, don't degrade me, and don't choke me out."

The two boys nodded anxiously.

"Holy fuck," Denki muttered as he watched Sero kiss your lips, palming his dick through his jeans. He admired your half undressed state as he feverishly threw off his T-shirt.

Without looking, Hanta held out his hand in a 'come hither' motion, and Kaminari steered over to his friend. Sero pulled away from you for a moment, guiding Denki's shaky hands to your bare waist. Once the two of you continued kissing, Kaminari hugged your waist closer and kissed the side of your neck. Your encouraging moans excited him, and he kissed your skin harder.

Denki's hips couldn't help but rut against your backside, drawing out a soft groan from him. He peered his head up to Sero, who turned to give him a gentle kiss, and Kaminari could feel your saliva on his lips. You turned to face the blonde, leaning forwards to propose a kiss. Denki filled the gap quickly, and met your lips with his. It was a messy kiss, but neither you nor Kami cared. You heard Hanta grumble in your ear, nipping at the cartilage carefully.

Honestly, Denki thought he was being spoiled rotten. You were so soft in his arms, and he swore he could stay like this forever. Sero's nimble fingers snuck to the back of your bra and quickly unclasped it, making Denki suck in a jittery breath.

"Hmmh," you sighed as Hanta cupped your breasts gently, waiting for Denki to desperately ask for a turn.

"You can touch her, Denks," Sero chuckled, leaning over and kissing his friend again.

Denki mumbled into the kiss, and shakily moved to grasp your tits from behind. His cock couldn't help but twitch in his pants as he massaged your nipples softly, his lips still locked with Hanta's. Kami pulled back with a gasp, strings of saliva still attaching them.

"Oh so good," Denki whined as he humped your ass, breathing heavily into your ear.

"Mmm, Denki~ take your pants off for us, won't you?" You licked your lips and watched as Kaminari hobbled out of his skinny jeans.

He looked at you with wide eyes as you sat on your bed, with Sero following suit. Denki moaned when the two of you started making out again, and nervously edged closer to the bed. You smiled at him encouragingly and reached out a hand to play with the elastic of his boxers. A whimper left his throat as you trailed a finger up his clothed shaft, and he eyed Hanta guilty.

"It's ok!" The smiling man replied, helping you get into a better position. "Let loose a little, dude."

Denki wasn't sure he could do that since you were slowly pulling down the hem of his underwear, his cock springing up to slap his stomach before standing straight out. He slipped down his boxers and kicked them away, having full attention on you and your beautiful e/c eyes.

Hanta was massaging your ass cheeks as Denki experienced your mouth for the first time, and he pulled down your panties, (which were soaked, by the way). You moaned against Kami's cock as Sero rubbed the inside of your thighs with his warm hands, causing Denki to let out a lewd groan. His eyes kept switching from you, to Sero, and back to you again.

"So wet for me, y/n," Hanta mumbled, "if I knew you were into this stuff I would've invited Kami over earlier."

You hummed in response, too busy indulging yourself with Denki's dick. You enjoyed making him squirm in his stance, licking over the glans of his cock and the underside of his shaft. You swore you could see his eyes start to water up.

Kaminari was wide eyed as he watched Hanta strip out of his briefs and give himself a few pumps. Denki's mouth opened in a silent moan when Sero lined up to your entrance and slowly inched inside, letting out a low groan when he bottomed out. You hummed diligently on the cock you were sucking and grabbed Denki's hand to put on your head, letting him grasp your hair like reins.

The electric blond babbled quietly as he watched Hanta pump into you, forcing Denki's cock further down your throat. The way your mouth contracted around him made Denki's legs shake, and he got red in the face trying to keep his hands from urging your head deeper.

"You look like you're having a good time, Denks," Sero commented as he admired the blonde's teary eyes. His hips rolled forwards in a new rhythm and you griped pleasantly as you fisted the sheets under you.

"Fuuuck yeah," Kaminari grumbled, catching up with his friend's rhythm. He was over the moon, and was just trying not to cum prematurely so he could enjoy this moment longer.

"Don't be afraid to fuck her face," Hanta said smugly, repositioning his hands on your hips. "She loves choking on cock, ain't that right beautiful?"

You wept in agreement, looking up at Denki with soft, pleading eyes. You bobbed your head faster in his loose grasp, gagging and sputtering on spit and precum. The man above you groaned with satisfaction and fisted your hair and forced his dick deeper into your tight throat. His thrusts came in a perfect rhythm with Sero's, and whenever you moved, you were getting impaled from either end.

Your limbs shook as you struggled to breathe with the cock in your mouth, and your pussy clenched around Hanta desperately. You felt tears stream down your cheeks as you sobbed for breath, enjoying every moment. You nearly squealed as Sero pressed a vibrator against your clit, and your vision fuzzed a bright white.

"Gonna cum, baby?" Hanta egged on, panting for oxygen. "C'mere Den, kiss me."

You whined loudly as you heard the two men kissing above you, and your stomach tightened and rolled around pleasantly. You gurgled on Denki's cock as you came, pussy pulsing with need and delight.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Kaminari moaned in tune with his thrusts, so close to the edge that you could practically taste his cum already.

"Oh shit, y/n. You're so— tigHT," Hanta groaned as he rutted against you one more time before you felt his warm cum fill your insides.

Right on cue, Denki hit his peak right after Sero, moaning about how good your mouth felt and how hot you were, "god, Hanta, she looks so fucking good like this."

Denki let out a choked whine as he finally let his orgasm take over his body, and he held your head in place as his semen ran down your throat. You choked it down before Kami pulled away, and you opened your mouth to reveal strings of saliva and cum.

"Holy fucking shit," Denki said, exasperated, "I feel like I'm not gonna go soft for a week."

"You alright, my love?" Hanta said softly as he let you fall onto your chest, ass still up.

"Hell yeah," you mumbled, your voice scratchy and sore from being face-fucked. You watched Kami stand awkwardly as Sero wiped you down with a warm cloth, taking care between your thighs.

"Denki, go get some water please," Hanta instructed as he rolled you over. "You did so good, baby. The best."

You hummed softly in response, already feeling your eyes flutter sleepily. Kaminari held out a straw to you, and you sucked down the cool substance thankfully.

"That was the best blowjob ever," Denki sighed happily, watching Hanta scoop out the cum from your cunt.

"It was your only blowjob, Kami," you mumbled teasingly, a soft smirk on your face.

You felt yourself drift into a calm state, and you could only hear the muffled voices of your boyfriend, and... your other boyfriend? You fell into a comforting, dreamless sleep, and you knew that Denki would make a great addition to your relationship.

[shoutogepi]

Catboy!Shouto

Todoroki Shouto

word count : ~2K (blurb!)

[ ☀︎ ]  fluff!! 

bio : general catboy!sho hc’s. initial meeting all the way to relationship.

author’s note : a midnight hc that got WAY out of hand. fair warning idk what the fUCK this is, whatever it is is all astrid’s fault. i decided to make this bc i suck at finding fics and i rly wanted to read something about a snuggly catboy!sho.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

in my opinion, shouto is already very catlike in certain respects.

he’s aloof and likes to watch rather than engage. he’s very intelligent and he’s driven when he wants to be. and not to mention he’s very loyal to those few that have melted through his ice-protected heart. he’ll probably also only allow physical interaction if he’s the one initiating it... 

you didn’t adopt him in human form. at some point you got a cat and you thought that was it— that it was merely a cat. a cute one at that, split down the middle like a patched together hand-me-down. he reminded you of a ragdoll because of his peculiar colors, even though his coat was sleek and shiny. he also had a very prominent air of elegance... overall, a very pretty cat.

however, he wasn’t the nicest animal at first. he was skittish and guarded. he really only interacted with you in order to get food and water, and he didn’t allow you to touch him all too much. any time you had friends over there was no chance he’d be spotted, always hiding in the shadows of your closet or the safe space underneath your bed. when your company would leave, he would slowly crawl out, watching you from a respectable distance as you tidied up before heading to bed.

even though he was kind of a dick, you spoiled him silly. you bought him his own bed since he refused to even go near you. he had his own cat tree and everything, and ample toys too. that was how he first began warming up to you. 

you had managed to pique his interest by dragging a ribbon toy across the floor and disappearing around the doorframe. you had been over the moon when he had poked his little head into the room, pupils wide as he eyed the ribbon with intense curiosity.

the morning after that, you had awoken to find him sitting on the very far corner of your bed. it was as far as he could possibly be from you while staying on the mattress, but you were elated nonetheless.

— - —

from then on, your relationship was a little steadier with the feline. he would follow you around your place, always in the same room as you but forever out of reach. occasionally he would allow you to give him a little scratch behind the ear or under the chin, but he would get up and leave after a few seconds of affection.

it wasn’t until he came down with a minor kitty cold that your relationship changed. you took him to the vet. he hated it. he was such a misbehaved boy, but when you had nearly cried as you frantically apologized for his behavior, he strangely became limp, a disgruntled expression on his cute little face.

you took him home and attempted to administer the medicine, even if he hissed and growled at you when you approached him with the distinct vial. you tried to give it to him, and he lashed out and scratched you for the very first time.

it was just a little cut, but it was enough to draw blood. you left the medicine with him and closed yourself away in the bathroom as you tended to your wound, irritated that after all you’d done for him he still treated you like shit. but he was a cat, you reckoned, and so you instantly dropped any malice that had come forth in those few minutes. when you opened the door again, he was sitting at the doorway, ears flat to his head and head lowered, the medicine vial resting before his paws.

after that he allowed you to administer the medicine without complaint. he just layed there and would blink lazily at you while you moved him accordingly, never fussing at all. it was clear that he was sick initially, but each time you gave him that medicine he became more and more like himself. he looked strong and healthy once again. you were relieved.

your relationship kept improving. he would now let you pet him from time to time. sometimes he would even jump up and settle himself into a little loaf next to you as you watched TV or typed away at your laptop. he began sleeping closer to you, sometimes on your feet, sometimes on the vacant side of your bed. the sound of his low purrs lulled you to sleep.

things started getting strange when you started going out with someone you had met. you’d given your number to them when they’d asked for it out of the blue. it was all very innocent, nothing too crazy. just a coffee here and there, really.

that was when shouto started becoming more affectionate with you. he would let out a loud meow in greeting when you came home, running to the door to meet you and promptly sticking his head into the shoes you slipped off your feet. he would sit with you as you went through the work you brought home, even nuzzle your ankles while you made yourself dinner. he would start to sit on your lap when you were watching the television.

he would even let you kiss his head , and he’d slowly blink at you when you praised him for all his handsomeness, for how good of a boy he was. he even started slipping into the sheets with you, allowing you to hold him close as you drifted off into slumber, and kneading at your blankets as the two of you fell asleep together.

but coffees turned into lunches. and lunches to dinners. you started spending less and less time at your place, and he would find himself watching the clock on the wall as he waited for your return. though when you finally would, later and later with each passing date, he was not pleased to find your scent mixed with another’s.

he had stayed in cat form for a very long time. perhaps he shifted into human form when you weren’t home, you didn’t know. you thought he was your cat, and that was the end of it. all you knew was that one morning, you woke up, expecting to have your snuggly companion curled up into your side as usual.

instead, there’s a whole ass MAN tucked into the sheets beside you, long leg slung over yours and his arm wound round your waist. what’s even wilder is that two cat ears stick out of the silky hair on his head, colored the distinct red and white of the fur you have become so accustomed to. a long, furry tail also rests on your thigh, brushing against your skin.

he’s also butt ass naked.

to say you’re shook is an understatement. thankfully he’s laying on his stomach, so you don’t see anything indecent. you weigh your options here— this man is so obviously your cat, there’s no way he’s not. but you have a cat, and this is a man!! man-cat? you can’t care to know the correct terminology.

you decide not to scream, but you shuffle backwards. it’s enough to disturb the creature, and his heterochromatic eyes peel open slowly. he sees you looking at him, and still weighed down by sleep, a mild, content smile curls his lips and a loud purr rumbles out of him. then his eyes move down and he catches sight of his own arm around you, and he scrambles off the bed, ears tucked back and tail bristling as he trips over the sheets.

after you find some clothes for him to wear, you have a rather awkward conversation over breakfast. turns out that he’s been capable of turning into this human form the whole time, but he had become accustomed to life as a cat and preferred it to being a human, as he had a hard time fitting in with his big ears and long tail. you reckoned you, too, would live as a cat if you had the option... especially with such a doting and caring owner as yourself.

now though, you can’t really refer to yourself as his owner. he’s a person, just like you— he just harbors many of his cat-like qualities.

initially it’s hard to adjust, knowing he’s also a man (and a very handsome one, at that). you buy him some clothes and start to cook meals for the both of you. what else are you gonna do, throw him out onto the street?

your interactions become a little forced... you’re just really confused as to how you’re supposed to act around him. he seems to sense your unease, and he shifts back into a cat in order to comfort you. he walks right up to you and hops into your lap, standing up to put his front paws onto your chest, and leaning in to rub his cheek across yours, finishing off with a quick lick of affection.

apparently, he has missed the attention the both of you had become so accustomed to giving/receiving. so, the moment you hesitantly begin to rub his ears, he starts to purr loudly, settling on your lap/chest. he’s really warm and soft, so you end up wrapping your other arm around him and continuing to pet his head.

it becomes routine for you to have this nightly cuddle before bed, but after you’re finished with pretending to pay attention to the tv, you tell him goodnight and shut yourself into your bedroom for the night.

no longer does he receive your praise nor your kisses, and it’s taking a toll on him. he’s needy!! you’ve conditioned him to soak up all your love and now you just stop?

so eventually he’ll sack up and knock on your door, asking why you won’t let him sleep with you anymore. he knows you’re intimidated by his human form, but he thinks the reason is because you’re scared of him. you hesitantly let him know it’s really just because you’re attracted to him. and what do ya know, he feels the same.

another reason why you’d been avoiding him that you’d rather die than tell him is that you’re embarrassed that you just straight stared at him in shock when he used your toilet like a human. eye contact and everything. this was back when you’d first gotten him but now you’re just overwhelmed with residual embarrassment LOLLLLL anyways...

from there your love blossoms !! yay!

now he will walk around your place in his human form more often than cat form. though sometimes he does like to be in kitty form so he can sit on your lap while you’re working at your desk.

snuggles become a norm. he’s very affectionate. absolute cuddle bug. 

stressed? cuddles.

happy? cuddles.

bored? cuddles.

i cannot emphasize this enough!!! hold him!! he lives for it! he is baby.

he still loves playing with all the toys you buy him. and what’s hilarious is that he can’t seem to help himself from fixating on those little aluminum twist ties that you keep in the kitchen. he doesn’t know why, but when you toss them across the room he’ll just run for it. nyoom!!

makes sure to bring it back like a good boy every time.

a really good investment is a laser pointer. human or cat, once that little red dot is spotted, you can bet he’s chasing it. this has resulted in broken furniture more than once LOL. at the end of your little play session you guide the laser over to you and he’ll pounce on you!! cue more cuddles. 

as if all the snuggles he gives you through the day aren’t enough, falling asleep is complete bliss.

he’ll slip into your covers and wrap his long limbs around you. lithe fingers will caress your skin and your hair, and if you return the favor, he’ll start to purr softly for you. he’s totally into nuzzling you, too. he’ll just nestle his face right into your neck and breathe your scent in, completely at peace. and he can’t help it when his purrs grow louder, an indication of his complete content.

more rarely he’ll come out into public with you, provided he wear a beanie or something to cover those cute perky ears of his. the tail he can tuck into his pants just fine. when he’s out and about with you, he’ll likely stay right by your side, an arm over your shoulder, around your waist, or your hand held hostage by his.

when you’re out on these rare excursions, he will often ask for a boba or a latte—he loves to indulge in those sweet milky drinks every now and then. plus it makes him happy when you’re happy, and you always get excited when you get one for yourself too.

overall 10/10 would recommend adopting catboy!sho. he will give you all the love and snuggles necessary and he’ll be more than happy to accept your affections too. 

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

so... can you guys tell i’m a cat person? 

(づ ｡◠ ‿ ◠｡ )づ <3 <3 <3

➥ masterlist  thanks for reading!! hope u enjoyed whatever... this was LOL 

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[reidyoulikeabook]

ok I literally adore the snippet you posted!

idk if this is the type of hc thingy your looking for, but I feel that spence is incapable of taking a true break (like me ngl) so when he has time off or down time he just aggressively picks up hobbies to keep himself busy (like starting multiple new hobbies and such) because he really has no clue what to do with his time if it isn't "productive" and yeah idk maybe him and reader just existing with self-induced hobby chaos?

okay well this clearly did it because i ended up writing A Lot for this thank you for fixing me bestie <3

Ship: Spencer Reid x GN! Reader

Word count: .9k

-

Spencer Reid is the love of your life. It’s something you would readily say without even thinking about it. However, with you and the love of your life - alongside the rest of the team - currently being on enforced leave? Well, it was fair to say he was also the architect of all chaos in your life.

It’d started when you’d gone to the grocery store. And in fairness, it’d been innocuous enough. Garcia had given him a crochet kit, so when you came back to yarn and needles all over the couch while he crocheted you a felt giraffe? That wasn’t too bad.

The next morning, however, crocheting had been abandoned. In favour of a much messier project.

“Spence?” You ask, padding out from your bedroom, “What exactly are you doing?”

“I’m making a model of the universe out of salt! I made one when I was nine and I sent it to Carl Sagan and I’m not sure if he ever got it. And I thought how much time went into that and how I wished I had it now so I’m making another one,” He chirps happily, sparing only the time it takes him to ramble to look away from his project.

“Oh,” You reply, coming to stand behind him and ruffling his bedhair, “That’s nice. Where did you get all the salt?”

“The grocery store.”

“It’s seven in the morning.”

“It opens at five,” He supplies helpfully, “I got you breakfast too.”

Even with salt all over the floor, you suppose it’s not all that bad.

The salt universe takes him all of a day, and then occupies quite a large proportion of your living room. Not as large a proportion, though, as his next project. One you only find out about when the mailman knocks at the door.

“Hi,” You answer, completely baffled by the frankly gigantic box he’s holding.

“Package for Spencer Reid,” He says.

“I’ll sign for that,” You say, taking the clipboard and signing your name.

What the fuck is that?

The package is huge, you have to put it on the floor and shuffle it inside. Its contents are only revealed to you when Spencer gets out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist.

“Baby what did you buy?”

“Oh!” He grins, “That’s my model train set.”

“Your what?”

“My model train set! I managed to find an exact replica of the Amtrak train route from New York City to Montreal. Did you know it was voted the most scenic train route in all of Northern America?” He smiles, “It even comes with a floor map so that you can see the relative position of the train on the map as it moves around.”

You nod, “Okay. And where are you going to put that?”

“I was going to move the couch.”

He looks too happy for you to object. And so you get roped into moving the couch and the coffee table, making way in the centre of the room. Within the space of five hours, your living room becomes the hub of what you imagine must be the biggest model train set known to man. It’s hard to begrudge it though, what with Spencer sitting in the middle of it, smiling dopily and reciting facts to you as the train makes its way on its route.

It’s worth it, even if you do have to climb across the couch to get to the bathroom.

***

The sound of out-of-tune strumming wakes you up from your afternoon nap. Sighing, you push yourself out of bed. You make your way to the living room, taking in the sight before you.

Spencer is stood in the middle of the train tracks, while the train goes around, attempting to play a guitar. Attempting being the operative word. His lower lip has disappeared inside his mouth, his eyebrows firmly pressed together in concentration, mumbling to himself something about guitar notes.

“You got a guitar?”

He jolts a bit, recovering and smiling, “No, Hotch lent it to me! He had a spare one in his basement and I thought I might learn to play it. I learned the piano in a day so how hard could guitar be?”

As you find out the difficult way, quite hard apparently.

It’s gone 6pm by the time he finally abandons the endeavour for the day, coming to rest by you on the couch. He wraps his arm around you, squeezing you tightly to him.

“Thank you,” He mumbles.

“Thank you for what?”

“For um, with putting up with all this,” He gestures sheepishly, “I um, I’m not good when I don’t know what to do with my free time.”

“That’s okay,” You reassure, squeezing his hand, “I mean, I kinda like the salt model of the universe.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The guitar playing leaves a little to be desired.”

“Maybe I should stick to piano.”

A contemplative look overcomes him, and you interrupt his thoughts, “We do not have room for a piano.”

“But-”

“We do not have room for a piano,” You reiterate, playfully tapping him on the nose.

“Fine,” He sighs, “I think I could master the guitar though, maybe if I gave the song just one more-”

As fate has it, his phone beeps at that moment. He pulls it out of his pocket, turning it over in his hand, “It’s Garcia. We aren't on leave anymore, we have a case.”

What’s bad for the people of America, is very good for your living room. And your ears.

[klbwriting]

Unexpected Allies - Chapter 1

Fandom: Six of Crows/Shadow and Bone

Pairing: eventually will be Kaz/female!Reader but for now nothing

Warnings: I mean, Kaz Brekker is involved, someone is getting maimed

Summary:  The Darkling won the Ravka civil war, defeating the Sun Summoner and taking command of Ravka. Then he went looking for ways to make his Grisha more powerful. Kaz Brekker knew this but took the job at the Ice Court anyway, getting himself and Jesper Fahey thrown into a Ravkan prison for his efforts. After getting broken out by the Darkling's second in command the trio has to find their way to the Permafrost and the resistance gathering there. And then Kaz has to figure out a way to get his crew out of this whole mess. But how can he get himself out of the mess of feelings he has for the Grisha with all the powers?

Note: Hello!  I am alive!  I have found motivation for something else!  As much as I loved the Shadow and Bone show I have found more love in the Six of Crows books so this fic is an AU based on both.  In this the Darkling won out over Alina and then Six of Crows happened like it does, except the Darkling showed up to ruin things as he does. Also going to address the Inej sized elephant in the room, in this Kaz’s feelings were less strong towards her because I ship the fuck out of Kaz and Inej but I also ship the shit out of Kaz and myself too and I needed some self-insert.  I hope you like it, I missed writing and I’m glad to find some inspiration again.  

Kaz Brekker was known even in prison as the guy who didn't need a reason. He wanted his infamy to spread even behind bars, the better to keep those looking for a pigeon to harass away. On his first day in this hellscape he had stolen a fork from the dining hall and used it when his cellmate attempted to take the makeshift cane that he had been provided from his hand. Now he no longer had a cellmate and his old cellmate no longer had his eyes, and word spread quick of the young man willing to kill to be left alone. That had given him the time and space to start to plan his escape.

First, get Jesper as his cellmate. That was accomplished with ease. Anyone else they put in with him would be blind or deaf or crippled within 24 hours so it came down the guards asking him straight out who he wouldn't maim. He said Jesper Fahey and they allowed it if only to have a night's peace. Jesper didn't look like he was faring well. In a cell at Hellgate Jesper would have been alright but here in a West Ravkan prison near Os Alta where his Zemeni features made him stand out he had become a target. When he entered Kaz's cell rage filled the young crime lord. Jesper was thinner than ever, dark circles under his eyes and hands fidgeting constantly, almost like he needed a drug but Kaz knew it was just because he couldn't focus his energy.

"Jesper," Kaz whispered after the guard had left and his sharpshooter sat on the cot. "What do you need?" Jesper looked at him slowly and gave half a smile.

"Just my friend, s'all ok now," he said. Kaz felt the side of his mouth twitch up just a little. "But I could also use a way out of this damned place." Kaz nodded, gripping the wooden walking stick a little tighter. He wanted to put a comforting hand on Jesper's shoulder but he could not, Jordie's body, cold and wet and dead flooded his mind, and he couldn't bring himself to reach out. He hated that this place seemed to be tearing his friend apart slowly. It was even taking a toll on him. Everyday was the same, waked up with the sun, eat a breakfast of stodgy porridge and soggy bread, washed down with possibly the grimiest coffee ever made. The prisoners were then sent outside to work on either the large farm for the prison and surrounding towns or they were forced to be target practice for the Grisha guards. Normally only the worst of the worst were reserved for practice, or those that pissed off the guards. Kaz had avoided this so far but he knew Jesper had run his mouth one day, getting snarky with the yard guard and he had almost been drowned by a Tidemaker the next morning. Lunches were non-existant most days. They were shuffled from work to 'free time' which meant sitting in the hot afternoon sun either playing cards, or, if they were lucky, sitting under one of the shady trees that scattered the yard. Evening was the only decent time at this hellhole, it was dinner, and then back to the cells. Kaz enjoyed this time, he was normally alone to plan, and now that Jesper was here they could plan together. He had the beginning, how to get out of the cell, but the rest he was still working on.

"I have been planning this since we got in here, you were the first part of my plan," Kaz said, watching as another set of guards walked by. He checked the small window above their heads. "She's coming any minute now." Jesper looked at him confused for a moment before the cell door opened and a guard told Kaz to get up. Kaz nodded and stood, Jesper rising as well.

"This one should come too, he was at the Ice Court with me on that night," Kaz said to the guard. The guard looked between them and shrugged, motioning for another guard, a Grisha Corpolaki judging from the kefta he wore. They led Kaz and Jesper out of the cells and into one of the small interrogation rooms. Kaz was familiar with the room at this point, having been there several times in the past few months speaking with the Grisha Infernei who was seated at one of the two chairs in the room. She looked up as they entered and he noticed that she seemed relieved, something she hadn't shown before.

"Are there anymore of your comrades from the Ice Court in this prison?" she asked, motioning for another chair to be brought in. Jesper sat down hard while Kaz stood still, leaning on the walking stick and once again studying the Infernei. She wore a red kefta with black stitching, something different from the others and he was still not sure why. He supposed it was because she was high in the ranks. After the Darkling defeated Alina Starkov and her followers he had gone back to using his true name, Aleksander Morosova, and became king of Ravka. He used the power that he had sucked from the Sun Summoner to control the Fold now, moving and reshaping it to whatever he needed and on the night of Kaz's jurda parem heist he apparently needed the jurda parem also. Kaz and Jesper had been taken but the others had escaped.

"No, no more of us, just we two were involved," he said. The Grisha looked between them, assessing them. Kaz took another moment to look over her while she studied Jesper. He always liked to measure who he was up against, and he didn't mind studying her. She was curvy, seeming to like waffles more than Nina did, with hair a deep auburn and eyes the color of dark chocolate. The first time he saw them they reminded him of Inej's eyes except her's were more hopeful than he had ever seen Inej. This Grisha fully believed that something good could still happen in the world. Kaz was almost jealous of this, but of course, this Grisha had seen her side win the Ravka civil war. His eyes now met hers and he saw that while he was studying her she had been doing the same to him. He could tell she knew he was lying but he didn't care. He had spent the last 4 months keeping his answers vague, giving just enough information so that she would feed him information back about the current situation at the Little Palace, now the true royal home since the Grand Palace lay in ruin. King Aleksander left it as a reminder to those who would attempt to assassinate him, bodies still left scattered around the rubble, Alina Starkov's kefta in tatters on the front steps. Kaz hadn't seen it but from the way this Grisha described it, he believed it was terrifying.

"Mr. Brekker, we both know the heist you were attempting could never be accomplished with just two people," she said, a knowing smile on her face. This seeming infatuation the Grisha had with him was a plus for Kaz. He often wondered if he could possibly seduce his way out of the situation but his mind couldn't fathom the interactions involved, so he would wait. Perhaps this woman had a inclination towards criminals, she might be seduced by anyone, Jesper could do it easily, Kaz just had to get the ball rolling so to speak.

"I don't know, I think Jesper and I can accomplish anything we put out mind to," he answered, bringing himself to nudge his partner in crime with his elbow. The Grisha nodded and opened her notebook as she did at every meeting and began to write.

Y/N had noticed the look on Kaz Brekker's face when he elbowed Jesper Fahey. She could see his hesitation, she noticed the look in his storm gray eyes. He was bracing himself for impact as if the touch would somehow hurt him. Jesper's face was surprised at the touch, and he physically turned towards Kaz with shock. She opened her notebook and pretended to jot down something important as she did every day, but she mentally notated this interaction. She had been listening to others in the prison and despite his limp Kaz never let anyone see him as weak, however, this aversion to touch was never mentioned. He hid it well out in the general population but she could see something about touch bothered him immensely, that information could be useful later. Kaz Brekker was a tough nut to crack she had to admit, but eventually she would get to where she needed to be with him, hopefully sooner rather than later. Aleksander was having a tough time buying her excuses and she had to become even more convincing for him, continuing to keep his trust after the betrayal of the Sun Summoner was an arduous task. She hoped soon she could drop her facade and begin her true purpose, breaking Kaz Brekker and his cohorts out of this prison and find the gathering resistance in the Permafrost.

"Alright Mr. Brekker, we left off yesterday with you explaining to me how you came to know about jurda parem and what the Fjerdans were doing with Bo Yul-Bayor and his son Kuwei?" she said. It had taken months for Kaz to even start explaining anything to her. She had hoped that agreeing to allow his friend to be his cellmate would open him up. Luckily the gamble had worked at their last interrogation. His answers had still been too vague to really make an impact but it was a start. She hated to make him desperate but she needed the information, something to feed to Aleksander and send him on a chase for more jurda parem. Kuwei Yol-Bo had escaped from the Ice Court and that knowledge was keeping Bo from cooperating with the Second Army. He had recreated exactly one vial of jurda parem and refused to create another until his son was returned safely to him. Kaz Brekker and Jesper Fahey had been the last people to see Kuwei alive and she needed something to tell Aleksander before he decided to come here and do the interrogations himself.

"Yes, I believe I told you that a rumor had gone around Ketterdam and that I just happened to hear it," he said, making sure he was as convincing as he could be. Once again Y/N pretended to write something down, pretending to believe his lie. He was a very good liar, she could see that in the way his eyes held truth, his body language said honest, even his pulse was calm, however, the blood in his veins moved just a milisecond faster during his falsehoods. It had taken nearly a month to figure out the tell in his body but she had done it and now she used this against him.

"Must have been quite a rumor to make you put your friends in the line of fire of Fjerdans and of King Aleksander," she said, keeping her voice light, leaning a little closer to him. She couldn't lie, she was enraptured by the young man from the Barrel of Ketterdam, but she wasn't foolish enough to believe that he would ever see her as anything other than another Ravkan Grisha blindly serving her king, but she could pretend that she hoped to lure him in, get him feeling confident about her.

"Jesper will tell you, he was eager to join me to find this new drug, imagine the kruge we could make from such a thing," Kaz said, standing suddenly and poking Jesper towards Y/N with his cane. He moved towards the wall, leaning against it. Y/N watched him for a few moments before turning her attention to Jesper. He wanted to push someone else at her? Why? She could tell he liked the attention she gave him, maybe not in a way most men did, but he liked it all the same. Jesper barked a laugh.

"Eager? You came back and acted like we were going to be rolling in kruge, become kings of Kerch," Jesper said. He was also a practiced liar, following the lead of his boss as it were. Y/N smiled at Jesper then, making sure her brown eyes looked intrigued and enraptured. She noticed the Zemeni man leaned back in his chair then, clearly not interested in the attentions of a Grisha like herself. "But ya, I mean, I wanted the kruge and I was having a good run that night at the tables, felt lady luck was on my side." She saw him fidgeting near his waist, where his guns should be. She had those stored in her private quarters, along with a certain crow headed cane, waiting for the right moment. She had been watching Kaz and Jesper since they arrived, having her spies give her information on them. They were the only link she had to Kuwei and Inej Ghafa and she needed to know all she could before she continued her plan.

She tried to pry more out of the two for several minutes before one of her people, a young Squallor entered.

"The hour is late Korovsa, the king is finished waiting," she whispered. Y/N’s jaw tightened. Her eyes flashed to Kaz and she saw him take notice of the slight change in her features. Her fears were starting to come to pass. She needed to end this charade now.

"Guard, please escort Mr. Fahey back to his new cell. Mr. Brekker and I have more to discuss," she ordered. The guard grabbed Jesper's arm, hauling him from the seat. Y/N wanted to say something, tell them to lay off the guy, but knew she couldn't appear as if she cared. Once he was gone she made a motion for Kaz to sit. He still stood. "Sit, now," she insisted, hoping he heard the urgency in her voice. He eyed for another moment before he moved to sit. She leaned closer, all of her coy attitude gone.

"What's happened?" Kaz asked casually, working the top of the walking stick with his hands, the only sign of his concern. Y/N let out a breath.

"My time is up, tomorrow night expect there to be a riot, stay in your cell with Jesper, don't leave until you hear 2 bells, then leave the cell and go to your left, the door will be ajar due to the last guard through it mistakenly knocking over mop. Once you are in the corridor go right and follow it to the deserted morgue. I will join you and lead you and Jesper out, do not leave without me," she said.

"Why should I believe any of this? That you're just going to help up walk out of there?" Kaz asked, trying to read her, seeing if she was lying. She groaned annoyed. Why was it that her only hope was as distrustful as her current king?

"Because I want to see the king's body burn before he destroys all of us," she whispered, voice dripping with venom. Kaz looked a little surprised at her viciousness and he nodded. She sat back, knowing that by now the guard had returned.

"Well Mr. Brekker, you've once again been no help, tomorrow the king will be coming to personally interrogate you, I hope you are looking forward to it," she said. "Guard take him back to his cell." The guard nodded and yanked him out of the chair. "Careful, the king won't like it if he can't inflict the pain himself," she warned, more to Kaz than the guard. She hoped Kaz believed her enough, that she had shown her hand to him enough that he would do as she asked. If he didn't they were all screwed.

[flourgirl]

Sleepyhead

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter will try just about anything to help out the very pretty insomniac from his math class.

Work Count: 11.2k

Warnings: Just some sweet, pure fluff with a few curse words every now and then.

A/N: Either the tags aren’t working for me or you guys just didn’t like it, but the final part of “Even If It’s a Lie” has been out for a few days now if anyone’s interested in reading it 🥺 Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this super long piece I’ve been working on to help me get through finals <3

“Touch you softly I call you up late at night No doubt it isn't right But you could be my one and only” -Softly, Clairo

Peter had seen you around campus a few times, but it wasn’t until you started sitting two rows ahead of him in his linear algebra class that he really started to notice you. 

He thought you were really pretty, and he liked how cozy you always looked in the puffy winter coat you kept on in the perpetually freezing lecture hall. You took a lot of notes, which told him that you cared about the class, and never showed up without a giant cup of iced coffee.

You’re being a creep, Peter told himself. He had thought about switching seats to somewhere in front of you, so he could actually listen to his professor discuss permutations instead of staring at how you chewed on the end of your pen when you were thinking.

It was even worse when you started sleeping in class, your soft hair falling around your shoulders as you leaned your head against your desk. It seemed like all the coffee in the world couldn’t keep you awake, and Peter wondered if he should ask if you wanted to borrow his notes or something. But that would mean him admitting to looking at you way more than he needed to, and that was weird, so he quickly dropped the idea.

Still, he was worried about you. So when he came back from patrol in the middle of the night and bumped into you outside of the dorm kitchen, he figured it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and maybe even find out why you were so tired all the time. 

The only problem was that he had accidentally knocked your pan of banana bread out of your hands, and you were currently staring at it laying on the floor with your sleepy eyes, not saying anything.

“Shit, uh, I’m so sorry,” he told you, crouching down to scoop up the remnants of your late-night snack into the pan. “Were you really up baking at 3 a.m?”

You blushed a little, starstruck that the cute guy from your math class was talking to you. “Um, yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d come down to the kitchen while nobody else was here and make something. Baking always helps me calm down, and so here I am. And here we are. And there’s my bread, all covered in whatever kind of dust the custodians refuse to sweep down here.”

He offered a soft smile, and it made you feel better about the fact that you were rambling way more than you wanted to.

“I’m Y/N,” you continued, gently taking the pan from his hands. “You’re in linear algebra with Professor Meyers, right?”

“Yeah, you, um, you sit right in front of me. Well, not right in front of me. Two rows in front of me. Shit. I’m not creepy, I promise. It’s just… uh… My name is Peter and I’m going to stop talking now.” 

That couldn’t have possibly gone any worse, he thought. You were probably thinking he was a serial killer or something.

“It’s okay. I know you sit behind me,” you reassured him. “You answer a lot of questions.” He was cute and smart, and you hoped he couldn’t notice how flustered you were to be this close to him.

“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, which made you laugh at how ironic his concerns were, considering he was also wandering around the dorm basement at this hour.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, sitting on one of the benches that jutted out of the walls of the corridor. “I mean, you’re here too. At least I was baking. What’s up with you?”

You had a point. “I had an emergency… with my internship. I work for Stark Industries, and Mr. Stark rang me in the middle of the night to come to the lab immediately for something, so, yeah. That’s why I’m awake right now.”

“Okay,” you said, not buying his story. “So that’s why you have a black eye and you’re lurking in the basement hallway? Did Tony Stark punch you?”

Fuck. Did he really have a black eye and not notice? He didn’t think that Doc Oc’s stupid mechanical arm had punched him that hard, but apparently, he was wrong. And now he had to come up with some reason as to where it came from, although he could already tell that you were about to call his bluff.

The only solution he could think of was to change the subject. “Why are you always asleep during class?” he blurted out, causing you to give him a funny look before frowning down at your slippers.

“Isn’t it obvious,” you yawned, stretching your arms out in front of you. “I’m an insomniac. It’s actually kind of funny. I never really had any problems with falling asleep until I moved here. Maybe it’s the cold weather or the constant pressure to get good grades, but I just can’t sleep anymore. It sucks.”

Normally, you’d never tell this much about yourself to somebody, let alone a complete stranger. But somehow, you felt really comfortable around Peter. There was just something about him that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Peter caught himself staring at you again, your baby pink pajamas a far departure from how put together your usual outfits were. Even without your makeup or hair done, you were still the prettiest girl he had ever seen. For some reason, even the dark circles under your eyes were really cute to him.

“You never answered my question,” you reminded him, hoping that he’d say something to fill the awkward silence. “What’s with the black eye and wandering around in the middle of the night? Are you some kind of superhero?”

“What? No! That’s crazy. Me, a superhero,” he laughed awkwardly, wondering if you had somehow figured out his secret identity. Had you spotted him that one time he made sure that you and your friends got home safely from a late-night study session? Even so, you totally couldn’t have known it was him, right?

“Relax, I’m just joking,” you giggled, thinking about how cute he looked when he was flustered. “Although my friend did tell me she thought she saw Spider-Man a few weeks ago on her way back from a party.”

“Haha, yeah,” he breathed out, a wave of relief washing over him. It was times like these that he really started to appreciate how well-hidden his muscles were underneath all of his oversized sweaters.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, bringing your hand up to lightly brush his lip, which was bleeding. He flinched instinctively before settling under your touch, your eyes focused on the small cut. “I have a first aid kit in my room if you want some help cleaning it up.”

“Oh, no, it’s cool. I wouldn’t want to bother your roommate,” Peter told you, scooting further away on the bench, nearly falling off the edge of it. Ned hated it when he stumbled in at some ungodly hour after patrol and woke him up. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and gesturing for him to follow you. “I have a single.”

Peter looked at you in awe. Freshmen never got rooms to themselves, and yet somehow you had one. “Okay, fine. But only because I’ve never actually seen a single in this building before.”

“That’s cool with me,” you smiled, reaching for his hand so he could keep up with your pace. He noticed that you were chewing some of the banana bread, which he really hoped was from the part that didn’t fall on the floor. To be fair though, it did smell really good.

Not only did you have a single, but you lived on the first floor. Peter couldn’t believe how lucky you were, considering the building that the two of you lived in didn’t have any elevators to traverse its seven floors.

He was even more shocked when you opened your door, revealing the coziest dorm room he had ever seen. How on earth did you transform the glorified prison cell into something that felt so... comforting? From the twinkling lights that were wrapped around everything and the soft rug under his feet, Peter found it really hard to believe that you had trouble sleeping here.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you apologized, piling your many throw pillows and blankets into a basket to clear up some space on your bed. “You can sit here.”

If this was messy, then Peter and Ned’s room needed some serious help. “No worries,” he said, watching as you rummaged around your drawers in search of your first aid kit.

Eventually, you found it hidden under a bunch of graph paper and colored pencils, untouched ever since your overprotective grandparents had helped you move in. “Here we go,” you mused, now looking inside it for alcohol wipes and band-aids.

He winced as you rubbed the little cloth against his lips, and you made sure to be more gentle as you cleaned up the other cuts on his face. Thankfully, nothing was bad enough to require stitches, something you were seriously under-qualified to do.

All Peter could focus on the entire time was how close you were and what it would be like to just kiss you right then and there, but he knew that was way too forward of him. Plus, he didn’t even know if you liked him like that. Surely you were just being nice.

Still, the way he caught you staring into his brown eyes after smoothing a band-aid on his forehead made him think otherwise.

“You’re going to have to tell me eventually who beat you up,” you sighed, gathering up wrappers to throw away and tucking the first aid kit back into its place in your drawers.

“It’s a long story,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your stare.

“I’ve got time,” you replied, climbing onto your lofted bed to sit next to him, innocently brushing your bare leg against his jeans, which made his breath hitch. “Tell me about it.”

“Uh, how about another time?” he stammered, hopping off the bed and running his hand through his hair. “After class tomorrow, or something. It’s getting pretty late. We should, um, go to sleep.”

“You can stay here if you want,” you offered, his eyes widening at your invitation. “On the bean bag, I mean. It’s actually really comfortable. You mentioned something about bothering your roommate and I figured that maybe you’d like to avoid the trouble tonight.”

“Oh…” Peter hesitated, looking for a reason to say no. He knew he’d never be able to sleep knowing that you were in the same room as him. “I don’t have any pajamas.”

“True,” you agreed, a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in sticking around.

“I don’t actually even wear pajamas to sleep,” he continued, making you look back up at him instead of playing with the hem of your shirt. “It’s just… I sleep in my boxers.”

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation,” you sighed, your face hot with embarrassment.

“It’s not that! I mean, I do want to stay here. But, uh, you… well, you make me really nervous, Y/N,” he muttered, his glance bouncing around the room.

“Why?” you asked, your brows furrowing. “Did I do something?”

“No, no! Nothing at all. I promise, okay?”

“Okay. You can, um, get ready for bed, I guess. I promise not to look,” you assured him, turning on your side to face the wall.

“Thanks. Yeah, alright.” You heard him fumbling with his clothes, his sneakers making a soft thud on your floor. You did your best to resist the urge to glance back at him.

“Can I just use any of these?” he asked, although you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Peter, I’m not looking, remember? You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“The blankets. Do I just pick one, or are you particular about them?”

“Oh. You can use whichever one you want to. But the coral one’s the softest and my personal favorite.” Peter stared at the basket in confusion. To him, they were all just pink. But based on touch alone, he pulled one out that he figured was a little more orange than the others.

He walked over to the light switch and flipped off the overhead fluorescents, letting the room be illuminated by the warm glow of your fairy lights, which weren’t too bright, but still twinkly and beautiful.

“Goodnight, Peter,” you whispered, snuggling into your comforter in the hopes that your heartbeat would slow down and let you fall asleep for once.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” In a matter of minutes, you could hear his soft snoring, and you figured that it would be okay just to take a quick peek since he’d probably be bundled up in one of your blankets.

His hair was perfectly messy, and he looked so cozy wrapped up in the blanket you had recommended. Still, as much as you could stare at his adorable face all night, you were exhausted. Burying your face under the covers, you did your best to calm your nerves and get some rest before class tomorrow.

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

“Peter,” you whispered, jostling him lightly by the shoulders in the hopes of waking him up. “Uh, we have an hour before class. I was thinking that it would be enough time for you to go shower and change, and then we could go get coffee or something.”

He blinked back up at you, amazed at how well he slept on your bean bag. You had already gotten ready for the day, doing your makeup and picking out one of your many fluffy sweaters to keep you warm in the New York snow.

“Thanks, that sounds awesome,” he yawned, accepting the hand you held out to help him up. The blanket fell, and you stared at each other in shock, having forgotten that Peter was in nothing but his underwear.

You dropped his hand as fast as you could, covering your eyes. “Oh my god! I’m sorry. Shit, I completely forgot, Peter. I’m so sorry. I’ll let you get dressed.”

Peter watched as you stumbled around the room, your eyes squeezed tightly as your hands attempted to guide you away from him.

“Y/N,” he started, catching your attention as you nearly ran into your bed frame. “You can open your eyes. Really, I don’t care if you see me like this if it means I can keep you from breaking your nose.”

You hesitantly opened your eyes, relieved that Peter had already managed to pull his pants back on. Still, he was completely shirtless, and you found yourself staring at the abs you would have never expected to be hiding underneath his clothes.

Moments later, you averted your gaze, although you knew that he probably noticed you looking at where was now covered by his plaid button-down and dark blue sweater.

“I’ll, um, be right back,” he muttered, before practically sprinting out of your room and up the stairs. You groaned in embarrassment, burying your face in a pillow before attempting to take a quick twenty-minute power nap.

Peter couldn’t believe it. Sure, he had thought one time about you seeing him without clothes on, but this wasn’t how he thought it would go at all. Still, the image of you staring at him shirtless, your face flushed, made him feel like he was going to have a heart attack.

“Dude! There you are,” Ned screamed, startled at his roommate’s unexpected entrance. Peter panted, having run up four flights of stairs as fast as he could. “Wait a second. Did you finally get laid? Is this a walk of shame?”

Before Ned could praise him any further, Peter was grabbing a change of clothes and sprinting towards the bathroom. Don’t think about her, he begged himself.

The memory of your leg touching his last night immediately came to mind, and Peter was so angry at himself for being this starved for physical intimacy. To be fair, though, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and so he cut himself some slack.

Shit, he told himself, making sure the water was set to cold. He needed to calm down, but instead, his thoughts were stuck on how good you looked in your pajamas, but also how good you would look without them and—fuck it. 

Peter liked you a lot, and if thinking about you like this in private kept him from being a complete weirdo in person, then maybe he just needed to get his feelings of desperation over with.

When he came back down to your room about thirty minutes later, you were still super tired. You trudged your way towards the door, your hair now noticeably messier than earlier, but at least that meant your nap had been a success.

His hair was still damp and this time he was wearing yet another blue sweater, which made you wonder if he ever wore any other color. He had his backpack slung over one of his shoulders and a nervous smile on his face as he locked eyes with you.

“Hey,” he said, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “Are you ready to go?”

You leaned against the doorway a little bit, letting out a yawn that was literally the cutest noise Peter had ever heard in his life. “Yeah, let me get my backpack.”

“It’s so heavy,” you continued, rightfully complaining as the weight of all its contents practically pulled you downwards. “I think it’s so stupid how almost every professor bans computers from class. Like, it’s not fair that I have to lug around three textbooks every day. I don’t have time to run back to my dorm in between classes like some people!”

Peter frowned. Three textbooks were nothing to him, but he knew that you didn’t have spidey-strength and that you were also pretty tiny compared to him. It must’ve been hell on your back to be carrying all that stuff around every day.

“I can carry it for you,” he offered, holding out his hand to switch with you. “Here, you can take my backpack if it’ll make you feel better. I have a lot of programming classes today, so I’ve only got my laptop and a notebook in there.”

You gave him a look of gratitude as he traded bags with you, literally taking the weight off your shoulders. He was right. His backpack was much more manageable for you, even if the dark grey contrasted with the light colors you always wore.

In contrast, it looked kind of odd for him to be walking around with a backpack that was covered in a soft pink floral pattern, much like everything else you owned, but the sight of him carrying your books brought a smile to your face. 

It was one of the sweetest things a guy had ever done for you, and Peter wasn’t even your boyfriend. He probably didn’t even think of you in that way.

“Uh, where do you usually get coffee?” he asked, slowing his pace so you could keep up. He felt bad seeing how tired you were, no doubt due to the lack of sleep you got last night.

“The Starbucks next to Hendrie Hall,” you replied, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “You?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” he admitted. “I’m actually more of a tea person.”

“Oh,” you hesitated, wondering if it was worth it to walk all the way across campus just for a caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino. “We could go somewhere closer then.”

“It’s okay,” Peter reassured you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to your destination. “I like walking.”

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

You hadn’t really talked to Peter since that morning before class, but sometimes you would peek behind you and catch him stealing glances at you. Eventually, he had started to feel brave enough to give you a little wave whenever you caught him looking at you. Well, at least the times when you were awake.

One day, not even the loud shuffling and growing chatter of your classmates exiting the lecture hall could wake you up, and Peter figured he better do something before you got chewed out by one of the TAs.

“Y/N?” he said, leaning closer so that you could hopefully hear him. “Y/N. You gotta wake up. Class ended three minutes ago.”

He shook you a little bit, nervously hoping that you wouldn’t mind him touching you. Your eyes fluttered open, and you smiled softly as soon as you realized it was Peter. 

“Oh. Thanks,” you said, standing up to slide your empty notebook into your backpack. Your hand brushed the side of your mouth, making sure you hadn’t drooled onto yourself.

“You can borrow my notes,” he offered, glancing at you sheepishly as you gathered up your coat and fixed your hair. “If you want to.”

“That’d be great,” you sighed, wondering whether you should skip your next class and just go take a nap. At this point, you weren’t even bothering to put on makeup and you basically wore whatever clothes you had that weren’t already sprawled across your room.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, walking close to you to make sure you didn’t fall over. He knew you were an insomniac, but you looked seriously sleep-deprived today. “Have you been sleeping at all lately?”

“Nope,” you huffed, lugging your perpetually heavy backpack along. “But I’m skipping the rest of my classes today. I’d rather lie that I’m sick through an e-mail than have to explain to my professors why I was sleeping during their classes.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, stopping you in your tracks to take your backpack from you. “I’ve actually got some time before my next class. I can walk you back to your room and give you my notebook if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you told him, reaching to take your bag back from him, although he didn’t let you. 

“Y/N. Come on, you’re exhausted. At least let me carry your stuff, alright?” He had such a kind look in his eyes, and you certainly didn’t have the energy to keep arguing for no reason.

“Okay.” You crossed your arms, the cold air slowly waking you up as the wind hit your face. Your ears were super cold, but you were glad you had pulled your hair into a quick braid to keep it from flying everywhere.

It wasn’t long before you were kicking your boots off in your dorm room, your teeth chattering as you wrapped yourself in a blanket. 

“Do you want some tea?” you asked Peter, inviting him to sit down wherever.

“Sure, but I thought you drank coffee,” he reminded you, watching as you pulled an assortment of tea bags for him to choose from.

“I do,” you said, handing him the box and running to your bathroom to fill up the electric kettle. “But you drink tea.”

Peter’s ears suddenly felt hot. You had gotten tea just for him. Or maybe you were just a really good hostess and kept some around for all of your visitors. Probably the second option, he thought.

“Are you even allowed to have one of those?” he asked as the two of you waited for the water to boil.

“No,” you laughed, sitting next to him on your bed. For someone with so much space to themselves, you really needed to invest in more places to sit. “But you can’t have candles or fairy lights either, so I guess I’m just a rule breaker.”

“Guess I’ll just have to report you to the RA,” Peter teased, getting up to make himself a cup of earl grey. “Do you have any sugar?”

“Top drawer on the right,” you replied. “Do you have a sweet tooth?”

“Yes.” You watched as his lips blew on the tea to cool it down before remembering that it was weird to stare.

“You should let me bake something for you. What’s your favorite dessert?” You were kicking your dangling legs, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than this morning.

“Chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting,” he said in between sips, walking back over to you. With you on the tall bed and him standing, your faces were level with each other.

“I’ll have to make you one to thank you,” you smiled, peering into his eyes. Peter felt your heartbeat quicken, and the grin on your face as you stared at each other made him weak in the knees.

“Can I get those notes?” you asked, making him remember that people don’t just look at each other and say nothing like that.

“Oh! Yeah, definitely.” He quickly set the mug down on your nightstand to rummage through his backpack, flipping one of his notebooks open before handing it to you. “There are the ones from today, but all of the ones I’ve taken this semester are in there too.”

“Wow,” you laughed, making a worried expression form on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are they not good?”

“No, it’s not that. They’re just, uh, very thorough.” He had basically transcribed your professor’s lectures onto the pages. “You must write really fast. But thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.”

Peter nodded before nervously gulping down the rest of his tea, not even noticing how hot the liquid still was as it nearly burned his throat. 

“I should go now,” he started, looking around the room for his things. “I want you to get some rest, Y/N. Please.”

He had this look in his eyes that was so genuine—so full of care and concern—that it made you want to do whatever he asked you to.

“I’ll try,” you told him, awkwardly rubbing the top of your arm in the hopes that you could actually fall asleep after he left. “Have a nice day, Peter.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll stop by later,” he said, already halfway out the door. “For the notes, I mean! Uh, bye. Again. Okay. I’m going to go now.” 

You giggled, giving him one last wave before he left. Like magic, the more you thought about how Peter was worried about you, the easier it was for you to drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

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

You woke up later that day to Peter knocking on your door, this time standing next to some guy in a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt.

“Hi, Y/N,” Peter greeted you. You looked a lot less tired than when he saw you this morning, which relieved him. “This is my roommate, Ned. He just wanted to know who I’ve been hanging out with, so I hope it’s okay that I brought him here to prove you’re real and not a figment of my imagination.”

Ned leaned closer to you, your hair still a little messy from your nap. “Blink twice if he’s paying you,” he whispered, causing you to giggle. Peter looked on nervously, unsure of what his best friend had just said to you.

“What did you say!?” he asked, lightly pushing Ned on the arm, knowing that it was probably something meant to embarrass him.

“Ow! Okay, now I’m really not telling you,” Ned replied, rubbing the spot where Peter had just hit him.

“Y/N, what did Ned say to you?” He turned to you, a worried look on his face as you and Ned held back your laughter. Peter’s face turned as red as a tomato, making you instantly feel a little bit bad. 

“It was nothing, Peter. Really,” you said, pulling him into the room with you. “It was nice to meet you, Ned. I’ll make sure he’s back before curfew.”

Ned laughed, offering a quick thumbs up and mouthing “I like her” to Peter before you shut the door on him.

“I knew that was a mistake,” Peter sighed, his back against the door. You were still a bit giddy from the exchange, giggling softly as he slowed his breathing.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed around me,” you reassured him. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s just that…”

“What?” You could barely hear him as his voice trailed off.

“Well, uh, not all of my friends are, you know…”

“Spit it out, Peter,” you said, leaning closer so that you could hear him better.

“They’re not as pretty as you,” he muttered, making you blush at his words. Did he really think you were pretty?

“Oh. Thanks,” you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Peter lifted his head up, relieved that you didn’t think he was a creep or something.

“Your notebook’s on my desk,” you continued, stepping back a little to give him some space. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the distance between you and him grew. “I just took a bunch of pictures, so I can look at them on my computer whenever.”

“Alright, awesome,” he said, walking over to collect it before turning back to you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well, actually. The best I’ve slept in a while. I think you’re some kind of good luck charm.”

“Really?” he asked, a little surprised that he had been helpful.

“Really. You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it’d be nice if we hung out somewhere that wasn’t my room all the time,” you said, a hopeful look in your eyes. “If you want.”

Peter had never noticed it before, but the two of you really did spend most of your time together in your room. It really was a nice room, but it made sense that you’d want to get out of it every once and a while.

“I’d like that. What did you have in mind?” Play it cool, Parker, he told himself. You can freak out with Ned later.

“How about ice cream on Friday?” you suggested, which came as a bit of a surprise to him.

“In the middle of winter?” As far as Peter could remember, you were always cold.

“Yeah. I really love ice cream,” you added, smiling up at him.

“Okay, then. Ice cream it is,” he agreed. There was absolutely no way he could ever say no to you when you looked at him like that.

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

“May! No, it’s not a date. She’s just a friend. Yeah, I got it. Open the door, pay for her, don’t be an idiot!” Peter sighed into his phone, hoping his aunt’s unwarranted crash course on first dates would be over soon. “Yes, I’m wearing the green sweater. Thanks, love you. Bye!”

“I have no idea who told her I had a date tonight,” he groaned, slumping down onto the couch next to his best friend.

“I texted her,” Ned replied nonchalantly, not even looking away from whatever video game he was playing. “Knew you’d need some kind of pointers. Y/N is way out of your league.”

“Hey!” Was he right? Yes. Did Peter need to be reminded of it right before his not-a-date date with you? Definitely not.

“Come on, you know I’m right. It’s Liz Allan all over again. I have no idea how you keep pulling all of these pretty girls, but hey, credit where credit is due.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I keep it real and you love it. Good luck, man.”

“Bye,” Peter grumbled, slipping on his coat and walking out of their room. Four flights of stairs later, he was at your door.

“Hi!” you squeaked, wrapping your arms around him. This was the first time the two of you had ever hugged and Peter was not going to forget about it anytime soon. “Come in. I have a surprise for you!”

“Here,” you continued, holding out a blue and white beanie for him. “I made it for you. To match all those blue sweaters you wear all the time.” Except this time, he was wearing a forest green one, which brought out the slight hazel tinge in his eyes.

“You made this for me?” he asked, eyeing the different stitches you had used and fiddling with the pom-pom on top. It looked store-bought.

“Well, yeah, silly. I just said that,” you replied, hoping that he liked it. With all the time you didn’t sleep, you were knitting anyway, but this was a special present for him. “Try it on.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” he sighed, pulling the hat onto his head. He looked really cute, the ends of his wavy hair peeking out from underneath the brim.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, pulling him out of your room and towards the front of the dorm building. “Getting to hang out with you is good enough for me.”

“Where’d you learn how to knit?” Peter questioned, walking alongside you on the snow-lined sidewalks. With how cold it was, and considering he didn’t have a hood on his coat, it seemed like perfect timing that you had given him a hat.

“My grandma taught me,” you shared, taking in the twinkling of the streetlamps and how they bounced against the snow. In New York, that was practically the closest you could get to stargazing. “My, uh, grandparents actually raised me.”

“Oh. I was raised by my aunt and uncle,” Peter confided. It made you feel not so alone to find out that he didn’t grow up with his parents either, even though you knew firsthand just how hard it was.

“Do they live around here?” you asked, stealing glances at him and how rosy his cheeks were in the cold air.

“Yeah, my aunt lives in Queens,” he told you, staring at his feet to both avoid eye contact and make sure neither of you accidentally slipped. Not that he wouldn’t catch you, but he wanted to be safe. “My uncle actually passed away a couple of years ago.”

You stopped walking, immediately feeling a sense of regret. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. There was no way for you to have known that,” Peter reassured you, his warm breath coming out in clouds, and he reached for your hand to run his thumb across your knuckles. He gently pulled you along, keeping you from dying of embarrassment in the middle of campus.

“What about you? Are you from around here?” he asked, hoping to break the silence and make you feel a little bit better.

“No, I just moved up here for college. I grew up in Texas but moved to North Carolina when I was 13, so I finished school down there,” you explained, Peter suddenly noticing a slight Southern twang to your voice. “I just really wanted to go to school in a big city and not next to a farm for once in my life.” 

“That makes sense,” he laughed, wondering what it would be like to live somewhere else. “I’ve only ever lived in New York City.”

“Do you like it here?”

“I love it. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, to be honest.”

“Me either,” you sighed, squeezing his hand tighter as the two of you enjoyed your walk in the snow.

It seemed like forever before you reached the ice cream shop, but you didn’t mind. That just gave you and Peter more time to get to know each other better. Turns out you both competed in academic decathlons, although you were more of a math person and he preferred science.

“Okay, you’re wrong. Night at the Museum 2 is so much better than the first one. I mean that kiss between Ben Stiller and Amy Adams? The Jonas Brothers as little cherub angels? Name one thing from the original that tops that,” you ranted in between spoonfuls of peppermint ice cream.

“I just really like when the little cowboy and gladiator are driving that toy car around,” he reasoned, subtly admitting defeat.

“Don’t even get me started on why the second Shrek movie—”

You were interrupted by the sound of Peter’s phone ringing, and you immediately recognized his ringtone as the Coconut Mall theme from Mario Kart. He peered down at his phone screen, sighing and mouthing an apology to you as he accepted the call.

“Uh, hey, Mr. Stark. Did you need something?” Well, at least you knew he wasn’t lying about his internship at Stark Industries. “Toronto? Tonight? I’m kind of busy.”

There was a long pause as Peter mentally kicked himself for talking back to Tony, resulting in an earful about how being an Avenger should always be at the top of his priorities.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be right over… but I need a favor. Could you send Happy to pick my friend up? Yeah, it’s the ice cream shop on 1st. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. Bye.” He frowned at you, and you could tell from what you had heard that he had to go.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just, something came up last minute and Mr. Stark really needs me to go on this business trip with him,” he apologized, pulling his coat on. “But, uh, he’s sending a car for you. So don’t worry about walking back alone, alright? I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay? Bye!”

“Oh, okay. Bye!” you managed to call out before he was running out the doors and down the street. Lots of customers were staring as you awkwardly gathered your things and went to go wait on the sidewalk.

A few minutes later, a shiny black car had pulled up to the curb in front of you, a man rolling down the window.

“Miss Y/N? I’m Happy Hogan. Mr. Stark sent me to drive you home,” he called from the driver’s seat, before getting out to open your door for you. You stepped in, a little starstruck at how nice the car was. You had never been in anything this expensive before. 

The two of you were sitting in silence until you finally got the courage to speak up. 

“Mr. Hogan,” you started, causing him to turn down the smooth jazz that had been playing on the radio. “Do you know why Peter has to go to Toronto?”

“Yes,” he replied, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “But I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh, okay,” you accepted, shifting to look out the window at all of the places in the city that you hadn’t yet gotten the chance to explore. 

Eventually, he was dropping you off in front of your dorm, and you were trudging inside to your room to sulk about how your not-a-date date with Peter had gotten interrupted. You stared at your ceiling all night, wondering when the next time you’d see each other would be, and whether or not he’d come back with the same cuts and bruises as when you had first met.

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

Peter had been gone for six days and counting, and you were starting to worry that he might never come back. You had already started missing him the night he left, and now it was just some agonizing waiting game for him to return.

You must have spent hours in the basement kitchen before deciding to visit the fourth floor where Peter lived. You knocked on the door and was quickly met with Ned’s shocked expression.

“Uh, hi, Y/N. Peter’s not here right now. Did you need something?”

“I know,” you acknowledged, holding up the plate in your hand. “It’s just, well, I’ve been baking a lot and I didn’t really know who to give all of these cookies to, so I was wondering if you wanted any.”

“Oh, in that case, sign me up!” You watched as his face lit up as he noticed the assortment of chocolate chip, sugar, and snickerdoodle cookies all still warm from the oven. He offered his hands out to take the plate from you, which you happily relinquished. 

“These are really good,” he complimented, his mouth full of a sugar cookie. “Can I keep the rest of them?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered, doing your best to smile despite how much you wished it had been Peter opening the door. “I’ll see you around, Ned.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he called out to you, making you turn around on the stairwell. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s going to be back any day now.” You nodded, offering him a wave and walking back down to your room.

Turns out Ned had been right. The strange noises outside of your window were masked by how loud you were jamming out to We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel, jumping around and listing off the lyrics that had never made much sense to you. Peter knocked louder on the glass, startling you as you quickly switched off the music to investigate.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, squinting your eyes to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. “Spider-Man? Is that really you?”

You fumbled to push up your window, extremely confused as to why one of the Avengers was outside your bedroom this late at night.

“It’s me, Y/N,” he explained, his voice suddenly becoming extremely familiar. Your eyes widened as you realized who was behind the mask.

“Oh my god! PETER?” you screamed as he slipped through the window, pulling off his mask and clapping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t freak out. It’s okay. It’s just me, okay?” he stammered in an attempt to get you to calm down before an RA heard. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really wanted to tell you, but we were in public when I left, and I couldn’t risk it. And I didn’t want to text it or do it over the phone because it’s kind of a big deal, so I figured I’d just come to see you as soon as I got back and Mr. Stark said that you have to promise—”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into the very weird material of his spider-suit. “I won’t tell anybody.”

He softened under your touch, resting his head on top of yours. “I like your dance moves,” he whispered, making you glare up at him, your face suddenly very red.

“How long were you watching?” you groaned, dramatically throwing yourself onto your bean bag, your face covered by your hands.

“Only for about a minute,” he answered, pulling your hands down so you could see him grinning at you. “I especially liked how you used your hairbrush as a microphone. Plus, I thought we agreed to stop being embarrassed around each other?”

“Well, that was before I knew you were freaking Spider-Man!”

“Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, nudging you to scoot over and make room for him.

“So, that’s what that whole Toronto thing was?” you asked as he sat next to you, your knee touching his.

“Yep. There was this thing about aliens and these guys that could shapeshift. It’s a lot to explain.”

“Are you going to keep that thing on all night?” you asked, gesturing at his outfit, which was very tight and very distracting from whatever alien story he had to tell.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged. “I don’t have anything on underneath it.”

“How scandalous,” you teased. “Not so family-friendly after all, huh, Spidey?”

“Oh, shut up,” he quipped, rolling his eyes as you let out a long yawn.

“Have you been sleeping much?” he continued, suddenly remembering the issue that had brought the two of you together in the first place.

“Of course not. I’ve been too busy worrying about my classes and, oh, just some idiot I know that abandoned me in the middle of an ice cream shop. Pretty sure he said he’d make that up to me, by the way.”

“Okay, okay. Message received. What would you like?” Please say a kiss. Please say a kiss. Please say a—

“Can I meet them? The Avengers, I mean. It’s not like anyone else really has a secret identity except for you.”

“Oh. I mean, I’d have to ask Mr. Stark and the rest of the team and see if they’re cool with it, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome! You’re the best,” you chimed, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek.

It was then that Peter decided he would just never be able to wash that side of his face again, his heart nearly skipping a beat.

“Peter,” you said, breaking the silence he had left the two of you in. “I’m tired.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “I should head up to my room. Gotta make sure Ned knows I’m still alive.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, standing up to see him out. “Aren’t you worried somebody will see you, though?”

“Y/N, it’s 4 a.m. I’m pretty sure that you and I are the only people on campus that are awake right now.”

“Oh, right. Still, be careful, okay?” you told him, slightly worried at his secret identity being found out by some college kid that just couldn’t stay off Twitter.

“Will do,” he said, smiling and giving you a little salute before leaving.

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

A few days later, before you could even greet him, Peter was already walking into your room. It was 10 p.m., a little earlier than when he usually came over, but by now you were used to him showing up at your door unannounced.

He was already wearing his pajamas, a t-shirt with a science pun and some flannel pants that he had invested in to avoid any more awkward moments between the two of you. You were dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, the clothes you usually threw on after class just in case you fell asleep on accident. There had been more times where you had woken up sweaty with your jeans stuck to your legs than you were willing to admit.

“Okay, so I asked Mr. Stark about your request and he told me he doesn’t think now is a good time, but…” he grinned, holding out a giant cardboard box with some kind of minimalist home appliance on the front for you to look at.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” you blinked back, trying to figure out what the hell you were staring at, considering that all of the text written on it was in a language you didn’t know how to read.

“It’s some fancy white noise machine from Japan. If I remember correctly, Mr. Stark said he made Pepper order it because I wouldn’t shut up about you, and it would be in everybody’s best interest if you got some sleep, so I could stop annoying him and the rest of the team.”

“Oh. That’s pretty thoughtful, I guess,” you said, gathering things off your floor to make space for it.

He set the box down on your rug and got to work opening it. Meanwhile, you were busy translating what exactly Tony Stark had so generously gifted to you.

“Peter, wait. This thing is like $300. Doesn’t he know that you can just look up whale noises on YouTube for free?”

“Yeah, but this one adjusts its volume based on the noises around it, has a light that simulates the sun rising, and has an alarm noise that’s supposed to support healthy cortisol levels.”

Peter peered up to see your arms crossed and brows furrowed, it suddenly becoming clear to him that the things he had just listed meant very little to you.

“Plus, he’s a literal billionaire, so I don’t think it was that big of a loss for him,” he added.

“Fine. Let’s just hope this thing works,” you sighed, watching as Peter leafed through the instruction manual before tossing it behind him. “It’s a little early to go to sleep, though.”

“Y/N, plenty of people go to sleep at 10. Not everybody is nocturnal like you.”

“I guess you have a point,” you agreed, kneeling down beside him as he fiddled with all the settings.

“I know,” he said with a smirk as you rested your chin on his shoulder to get a better look at what he was doing. “What time do you want to wake up? 7 a.m. would give us time to go get breakfast before class, but we could do 8 if you wanted to sleep in.”

“We?” you mused, liking the sound of that. “I guess that means you’re staying here tonight?”

“Well, yeah. I’m not letting you have all these overpriced rainforest noises to yourself.”

“Do 7. We can go get those blueberry muffins that you like,” you decided, standing up to get Peter’s makeshift bed on your bean bag ready. “Do you actually like sleeping on this thing, or were you just trying to be polite the first time I asked?”

“Dude, that thing is awesome. It’s like I’m on this little cuddly cloud, and then you add all those warm blankets and the twinkly lights and it’s the perfect recipe for me to fall asleep.”

“Wow,” you nodded, looking around your room to see all of the things that Peter was talking about. “I wish it worked that way for me.”

“Maybe it will, tonight.”

It didn’t. You were tossing and turning for nearly an hour to the agonizing sounds of birds cawing and the occasional monkey chatter, all set against the backdrop of a heavy thunderstorm. To be honest, it was something that would’ve given you nightmares when you were little.

“Y/N?” Peter whispered from the floor. “Are you sleeping?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“Could you turn that thing off? It’s really distracting me.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, leaning over to switch the noise machine off. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

He hesitated, not really sure if he should ask the question that he had been thinking about for a while now. “How old were you when your parents died?”

You had to think for a moment, not really sure about the answer. For as long as you could remember, you just lived with your grandparents. “Um, well my mom left when I was a baby. And I think my dad passed away when I was four.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a parent leave you, but he didn’t want to pry just in case it was a sensitive topic. “Are your grandparents from your mom or dad’s side?”

You rolled over to rest your head on the edge of your bed so that you could see him better. He looked so cute bundled up in all of your blankets, his hair already a bit messy. “They’re my mom’s parents. It’s weird. I see a lot of pictures of her from when she was growing up, and I look so much like her, but she’s basically a stranger to me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but there was a long pause and he decided not to.

“What about you? How old were you when your parents passed away?”

“Five or six. They met while working at the C.I.A. together, but most of my memories are from the stories my aunt and uncle told me when I was growing up.”

For a moment, neither of you could find the right words to say to each other.

“Peter,” you spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m really glad I met you.”

“I’m really glad I met you too.”

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

Peter’s next plan of action involved even more advice from his fellow Avengers, and you were not looking forward to trying out any of their suggestions. 

“Okay, so, Steve—I mean Captain America—said that when he was little, you know, in the 1940s, all he had to do was drink a glass of warm milk before bed.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” you groaned, crossing your arms.

“I just saw you eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s in one sitting the other day.”

“Regular milk has almost 15 times more lactose than ice cream. You’d think a science nerd like you would know that.”

“I’m a geek,” he scoffed, clearly a little bit offended. “Not a nerd.”

“Yeah, I can see that now. It’s okay, though. At least you’re pretty,” you said, pinching his cheek.

“Just try it,” he grumbled, handing you the warm glass and waiting impatiently for you to take a sip. If anything, the milk did a better job at keeping you up that night than putting you to sleep. Not even thirty minutes after you had gone to bed, you were feeling sick to your stomach.

“I hate milk,” you gagged, Peter holding your hair back as you kneeled over the toilet bowl. “My grandpa could never get me to drink it as a kid.”

“Is that why you’re so short?” he laughed, helping you up. You glared at him as you moved to the sink to wash the acidic taste out of your mouth.

“Shut up, Parker,” you quipped, tired and grumpy from how terrible you felt. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

“Alright, munchkin,” he smiled, pulling you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed.

Somehow, the warm milk wasn’t even the worst of Peter’s ideas, because a few days later, he was standing at your door with a bottle of some Asgardian sleep aid from the lightning god himself.

“Are you sure this is safe for me to drink?” you asked, your eyes widening as you stared at the silvery liquid that was almost shimmering.

“Uh, I’m about 87% confident you’ll live,” he said, “But I’m 100% sure that it’ll work.”

“Gee, thanks. Now I really want to drink this weird alien potion,” you sighed, looking at him nervously.

“Just drink a little bit and see if you feel anything,” Peter encouraged, leaning over your shoulder. You nodded, hesitantly bringing the drink up to your lips to take a sip.

“This stuff tastes amazing,” you mused, taking a bigger gulp this time. “Like a blue raspberry slushie.”

“Whoa, that’s enough,” he warned, taking the bottle from your hands before you could drink any more of it. “We don’t want you to go into a coma.”

“I don’t feel anything,” you shrugged, frowning back at him. “Maybe I should—”

You stopped mid-sentence to let out a loud yawn, the potion starting to take effect. Peter caught you as you slumped down in your chair, helping you into bed.

“Okay. I definitely feel it now,” you admitted, already half asleep. Peter tucked you under your blankets, placing a kiss on your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered, turning off your lights and softly closing the door behind him. 

For a moment, Peter had thought he had finally found a solution to your insomnia. At least before you slept through class the next morning. And then the day after that. But it wasn’t until the third day that he really started to freak out.

“Where’s Thor!?” he panted, having run all the way from his class over to the Avengers Tower. Wanda and Vision stared back at him from the kitchen, very confused at what he was so panicked about.

“He’s in his room,” Bucky called from the couch, his mouth full of popcorn as 13 Going on 30 played on the big screen. “What’s going on, kid?”

“No time to explain. Gotta go!” Peter called, sprinting up the stairs towards Thor’s room. He knocked frantically until the door finally swung open.

“Greetings, young Spiderling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Thor smiled, his long, golden hair shiny as ever.

“I think I killed my almost-girlfriend!” Peter blurted out, practically sweating from how stressed out he was. “She drank that stuff you gave me and she hasn’t woken up in three days now!”

Thor chuckled, patting Peter on the head. “Do not worry, my brother. I’m sure she will wake up given time. It was a very potent drink, after all. Calm yourself.”

“Okay,” he sighed, relieved to know that he hadn’t poisoned you to death. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. She’s fine. Everything’s fine. Thanks, man. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

“Farewell, Peter. May we meet again soon,” he grinned before closing the door in Peter’s face.

On the way back down the stairs, Peter figured he’d give you a call and see if you were still sleeping.

“Hello?” you groaned, your throat dry from just waking up. “Peter, what the hell happened to me?”

“THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE!” Peter yelled into the phone, making you recoil from the volume of his excitement. “You’ve been asleep for three days, Y/N. I thought you were dead.”

“I am very much alive,” you laughed, slowly feeling the potion wearing off. “Where are you?”

“Uh. I may have run all the way to Midtown to ask Thor if I had killed you,” he admitted, feeling you roll your eyes through the screen. “I was worried, okay?”

“Now you know how I feel whenever you leave for a mission,” you countered, glad that Peter couldn’t see how much you were blushing. “Hurry up and get your butt back over here. I have the weirdest dream to tell you about.”

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

Even if you still weren’t getting a full eight hours of rest at night, it was obvious that all of Peter’s efforts had vastly improved your sleep schedule. Over the past few months, you had gone from staring at your ceiling all night to actually being able to stay asleep for small periods of time.

“Your eyelashes are so long,” you mused, playing with Peter’s hair. He was sitting in between your legs and How the Grinch Stole Christmas was playing on your TV.

“Really?” He tilted his head back to look at you, batting his eyelashes and making you giggle.

“Yes. It’s not fair that boys get all of the pretty eyelashes,” you pouted, watching as the Grinch explained his plan to steal all of Whoville’s presents to his dog.

“I think yours are pretty,” he replied, a soft smile on his face. “But there’s a rogue one just hanging out on your face right now.”

“Can you get it?” you asked, your eyes still glued on the TV screen. Peter nodded, twisting around to gently brush the eyelash from your cheek.

“Do you want to make a wish?” he laughed, holding the little eyelash on the tip of his finger in front of you.

“Okay,” you agreed, squeezing your eyes shut and blowing it away. When you opened them, Peter’s face was only inches away from yours.

“What did you wish for?” His gaze shifted downwards to look at your lips for a split second, before returning to look into your eyes.

“I can’t tell you, dummy. Then it won’t come true.” You weren’t about to tell your best friend that you wished for him to kiss you. At least not now, while the two of you were stuck in this really weird “not dating, but more than just friends” limbo.

“Fine,” he frowned, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that you recognized had been mimicked after you.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you said, mirroring his stance. Your puppy dog eyes were definitely a lot more convincing than his.

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh, sure. You smell really good, by the way. Well, your hoodie does. I could just wrap myself up in it and fall asleep.”

“How come you’ve never mentioned that before? You could’ve been out cold every night months ago!”

“Guess I was just too distracted by your dreamy face,” you teased, causing Peter to blush.

“Whatever. Seriously, though. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I think it took me a while to realize how sleepy I got whenever you were really close to me,” you shrugged. “You’re not mad at me, right?”

“Of course not. But if I had known sooner I would’ve just given you one,” he said, slipping the hoodie over his head and handing it to you. “Here, put it on. You better fall asleep instantly or I’m calling bullshit.”

“You caught me, Peter. This was all some elaborate plan for me to steal one of your hoodies.”

“Just put it on. The suspense is killing me.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hoodie on. Just from looking at Peter and how slim he was, you never would have guessed that it would be this oversized on you.

“How do I look?” you asked, striking silly poses in front of him. Peter involuntarily licked his lips and he knew he’d be replaying this image of you in his head for the next few weeks.

“You’re going to have to keep that,” he stammered, doing his best to hide how much he really liked seeing you in his clothes. “It looks a lot better on you. I, um, have to go do my homework. And call my aunt. And walk my roommate.”

Peter stumbled to his feet, staring at his wristwatch to maintain his act that he was late for something before grabbing his things and heading out the door, making sure to hold his backpack in front of him. “Let me know if the hoodie thing works. Bye!”

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

Brushing off Peter’s strangely abrupt departure from last night, you nuzzled into your pillow, the warm morning light spilling through your curtains. Last night had probably been your best sleep in months, and you even got to wake up late since it was Saturday. Things probably couldn’t have gone any better.

Before you knew it, you were running up to Peter’s room and banging on his door. He opened the door on your fourth knock, right after Ned had chucked a pillow at him, and you were met with his sleepy eyes and messy hair.

“It worked!” you yelped in excitement, twirling around and still wearing his hoodie. “Well, kind of. I fell asleep after about an hour, and then I slept for maybe three after that. But I had to pee in the middle of the night, and when I got back into bed I couldn’t fall back asleep until 6 a.m.”

“That’s some good progress,” he yawned, stepping out into the hallway to keep your little celebration from bothering Ned too much. “If only we could get you to sleep the entire night.”

“I know right. But I’m so happy!” you cheered, wrapping your arms around him. “We finally did something right!”

“We need to celebrate!” you continued, grabbing Peter’s hand and dragging him down the stairs. “Come on. We’re making you a chocolate cake!”

You stopped by your room on the way to the kitchen, piling a bunch of ingredients into Peter’s arms from your mini-fridge and various shelves.

“Okay, eggs, flour, butter, sugar, chocolate. Damn it. We’re all out of milk.” You side-eyed him, remembering the whole Captain America induced fiasco from a couple weeks ago. 

“I think we might have some in our room,” Peter laughed. “Ned drinks a lot of milk mixed with Milo powder. It’s some obsession he picked up when his family took a vacation to Australia. I’ll go get it.”

He set all of the ingredients you had given him on your desk and sprinted back up the stairs to raid Ned’s stash, already thinking of ways to apologize for it later.

A few minutes later he was knocking on your door, out of breath, and dressed to brave the many inches of snow that had fallen overnight. 

“We didn’t have any milk,” he panted. “But I can run to the dining hall and get a few cartons.”

“I’ll go with you.” You quickly pulled on your snow boots and layered your puffer coat on top of Peter’s hoodie, wrapping a hand-knit scarf around your neck just to be safe. “All ready.”

Getting the milk was the easy part. Making sure you didn’t die of frostbite was another story. By the time you and Peter got back to your room, your nose was super red and you couldn’t feel your toes.

“Okay,” you said, your teeth chattering. “I thought I was used to the snow by now, but that was something else.” You dropped your coat on the ground and climbed into your bed, burying yourself under your comforter.

“I thought we were making a cake,” he laughed, walking over to see you peeking out of the pile.

“Cake will have to wait,” you whined, your voice slightly muffled by the blanket. “Come here. I need some of your body heat.”

“Okay,” he stuttered, kicking off his sneakers and climbing in beside you. He had sat on your bed a lot since the two of you met, but this was the first time that he was actually laying in it. You snuggled up to him, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

“This is nice,” you sighed, nuzzling your head into his chest. “Is this one of your superpowers? Spidey-warmth?” Peter let out a soft laugh. It was silly but true. Ever since the bite, he never really noticed how cold it was outside anymore.

“Y/N,” he whispered, tightening his grip around your waist. Your head was nestled underneath his chin, and he could smell the faint citrus scent of your shampoo. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Pete?” you yawned, your eyelids heavy from how comfy Peter’s cuddles were.

“I love you.” He held his breath, nervously waiting for you to respond.

“I know,” you giggled, intertwining your legs. “Sometimes, you talk in your sleep. You’ve probably professed your love for me at least eight times by now.”

“Oh.” Peter had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that.

“Don’t worry. I love you, too,” you assured him, grinning and placing little kisses on his jawline. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Maybe you could make it a little more obvious,” he mumbled, his heartbeat getting quicker as you shifted up to kiss him on the lips, your hand running through his hair.

“I will,” you smiled, your forehead resting against his. “But after we take a nap, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, snuggling as close as he possibly could to you, never wanting to let go. In no time at all, he watched happily as you fell asleep in his arms, wondering how the two of you hadn’t thought of this sooner.

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

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[i8jisoo]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader 

hyunjin x reader | part four of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff

↬ warnings; pregnancy, lots of cursing (i have a streak), birth, n kkami bein a meanie

↬ notes; ok this might be my fav in the series | 1.5k wc

u and hyunjin actually were broken up when u found out about the pregnancy

u waited (stalled fuck off) until five months since u really didnt know what to do with the news

u kinda feel like ur insane, playing your ex-boyfriends music constantly and watching interviews of him but it kept u company and gave u a reminder that u still needed to tell him

u got this rly cute popped out bump, just rly kinda like those movies but u know its gonna get bigger and grow to have stretch marks

one day ur just sitting on the sofa of your apartment n the next thing u know ur door is being opened and hyunjin is barging in

ofc ur in a sports bras and a pair of basketball shorts cause they r comfortable and shirts r overrated

ur there with set out marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate, as well as peppermint sticks on the side just eating them together

ur in the middle of eating a smore u had put together

u swallow ur smore slowly, sucking on ur fingertips n just staring at him

“oh my fucking god- and it’s true?” 

ur honestly so confused until u remember u dont have on a shirt n ur bump is showing

ur standing up in a millisecond, hyunjin getting more upset by the second just looking at u

“why— how? how could you just not tell me?”

baby boy has those angry tears and the strained voice hes just so upset and the guilt is setting in for u

“i’m five and a half months.” 

fuck hormones cause next thing u know ur crying and u cant do anything to make it stop

u guys really can’t be mad at each-other, ur relationship was filled with nothing but kindness and it ended only because u two felt it was going no where

ofc u two argued about it and in the end hyunjin was the one who walked out

“we can try again. you can move back in right? we can stay together and put back the pieces.”

u agreed n by the next morning he was there to help u pack ur things up n take them back to his place

he ends up seeing the box of baby stuff, with unopened bottle packages and sonograms, as well as a disc that was labelled as your 3D ultrasound

u find him just sitting there, staring at the black and white sonogram with tears freely falling down his cheeks

he doesn't even notice u next to him until ur thumb swipes the tear away from his cheek

u two just smile at each-other, his arm wrapping around u n pulling u in to his side

“that’s our baby?” he asks, not removing his eyes from the little white blob that barely was the size of a jaw breaker n u just whispered, “yea, it is.”

ur relationship doesn’t exactly get back into what it was at first,,

ur both nervous and cautious around each other

at first he insists he can just sleep on the couch so u can take his bed but u insist u both can sleep together

hyunjin doesn’t mean to but he somehow always winds up with his arm around u n ur bump every morning

he will talk to the bump n tell them how they r gonna have the best mommy n daddy 🥺

“did u know ur mommy is one of my favorite people to be with? i know ur gonna hear the story one day of how we became parents but i have always loved her, even when we weren’t together i loved your mommy. i hope one day you will love someone as much as i love your mommy, i hope you get your mommy’s personality bub.”

ur fake sleeping wbk but u dont move so u can let him talk

around eight months u two are way more comfortable n are getting closer

he lets u borrow his clothes because u used to do that even when u weren’t pregnant and he figured they were more comfortable & better looking than ur maternity outfits 😣

he rly goes the whole nine yards, buying anything u can think of for the baby n he’ll sometimes wake u up from ur sleep (if he’s rly excited) just so he can show u what he bought

hyunjin is in love with u and kkami cuddling together

also when ur due date got closer u both def went out for walks with kkami or played in the dog park with kkami

(u couldn’t really be as active as hyunjin but it was fine with u just watching)

something within hyunjin changes n he just gets so shy n flustered around u ^.^

he’s crushing so hard on u and u can guess he is but then again u two were just living together for the pregnancy

it’s probably three in the morning n hyunjin had just came home

ofc u were crying

a rly cute dog ad was playing with a baby in it as well :(

u explain n hiccup while doing so

hes so s o f t at this moment

he presses a soft kiss to ur lips n ur like wow thats um—

he doesn’t even care how shocked u r this man goes back in for more kisses

“i want you, i wanna be a real family. i wanna one day marry you, have more babies or get other dogs, that’s all i’ve ever wanted since the day we met.”

enywayz u two r dating,, a g a i n

spooning half of the time during ur last few weeks of pregnancy, but the boys come over frequently n for some reason jeongin is always bringing presents?? its cute but u guys RLY didn’t need anymore toys for the baby

u guys r just cuddling n he’s got one hand on ur bump before ur like

“ow,, fuck that hurt.”

“hey don’t swear around the baby!”

u just suppose it’s a hard kick since the baby had been active a lot recently n the pains had been occurring often

kkami is very cuddly today n he’s giving u kisses

hyunjin lowkey jealous cause kkami doesn’t ever give him kisses like that  ⸜( ⌓̈ )⸝

yall ever seen the thing where dogs know pregnant people the best n they can like SENSE something goin on??

well kkami was on it 

baby kkami is sniffing u n just restless in ur lap n its a lil weird cause kkami is ALWAYS sleeping or sitting still cause kkami has turned as lazy as u n hyunjin

u have this feeling but instead u just tell hyunjin u gotta pee :P

newsflash: u didnt n as soon as u got up, boom, theres ur water breaking and running down ur leg

“it feels gross.”

ur literally whining about ur pants while a baby is coming out of ur ... hooha 😳 n hyunjin is freaking out

he’s rushing around the rooms n making sure everything is in the bag and nothing gets left behind

last thing on his mind is changing ur clothes

though he does, putting u in his baggy sweatshirt and a pair of his shorts

hes freaking out lets be honest the thought of u giving birth is fuckin scary

hyunjin is so out of it and spaced out while ur cool n talking normally with pauses everytime theres a contraction

“aish, why are you so worried? i’m the one that should be worried!!”

ur not cool after an u hit the four hours in labor mark

u do not want to be t o u c h e d

touching u is off limits ur so sweaty n ur body feels like its crumbling u cannot deal with someone holding ur hand or holding u

hyunjin just sits there

hes kinda in a different realm while he stares at the clock on the wall

hes so ready to meet the baby but apparently ur body was exactly 4 centimetres not ready :(

hes just trying to distract u by talking with the boys n his other friends, all of the face timing to talk to the parents to be 🥺

yall r wrapping up a call with jeongin when u have the built up pressure feeling again

he doesn’t even explain to jeongin hes so quickly to hang up n ask u whats wrong

“i— it feels like i have to push.”

he’s already pressing the pretty lil white button on ur bed for the nurses n doctors

they confirm that u indeed r ready to push and that the baby is in position

hyunjin trying to take a peek WHAT A WEIRDO

yall hearing ur baby has a head full of hair and u just give hyunjin this look

like WTF no wonder why u had so much heartburn its because of ur fuckin rapunzel baby daddy

here comes the cries, loud n u just heard the quietest sob from beside u which was hyunjin

“it’s a baby boy, congrats!!”

his lil puppy baby boy 🥺

he had a lil pout like his daddy n his brown locks on top of his head

it was kinda creepy how similar they looked

anyways u dont care ur lil boy is p e r f e c t and nobody could dare tell yall different

u would disagree anyways because thats ur lil pouty baby boy n hes so cute 🥺

“we got a pretty good break-up story right? one for the books.”

he’s got baby boy in his arms bundled up but that doesn’t stop u from smacking his arm before kissing him quickly

“yea, we do.”

©️ maysdiors 2020 :: all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[kaistarus]

Drunken Christmas Party Confessions

Pairing: Nishinoya X Reader

Words: 2.2K

Summary: Nishinoya and Tanaka are throwing a Christmas party and maybe he’s had too much ‘hot chocolate’, but you’re really working that ugly sweater.

Notes: This is a college au, so that’s why they have dranks. Thanksgiving is over and it snowed where I live which means it’s officially Christmas. Which means it’s time to write too many Christmas/Winter themed fics.  I don’t make the rules lol

Masterlist

 Nishinoya wasn’t the brightest crayon in the Crayola 64 box sharpener included, but he knew three things for damn sure. When given the option you should never let Shoyo DJ a Christmas party, buying Christmas trees from Amazon is only a good idea if you pay attention to the size chart, and you looked really good in an ugly sweater.

Nishinoya swayed back and forth to the tenth rendition of ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’-apparently the only song Shoyo had on his Christmas playlist-while shamelessly watching you with hooded eyes. You looked so pretty in the ugly reindeer sweater that you’d stolen from his closet ten minutes before this party started. He could practically hear your laugh from across the house as you sling an arm over your stomach, gripping onto Yachi’s shoulder for stability.

He pursed his lips. Yachi’s joke probably wasn’t even that good. Nishinoya was a million times funnier than her for sure.

“Bro, are you even listening?”

“Hah?” Nishinoya rolled his head toward Tanaka who had apparently been talking to him.

How long had he been there?

“I said I think I’m finally going to make a move on Kiyoko,” Tanaka said with a lopsided grin, gazing over Nishinoya’s shoulder where Kiyoko probably was. Nishinoya wrinkled his nose and took a sip of the spiked hot chocolate from his classy red solo cup.

Tanaka must be drunker than he was if he thought this was the first time he was making a move on Kiyoko.

“That sounds super awesome dude.” Nishinoya tuned out Tanaka again, his eyes trailing back to where you were leaning on the false-granite countertop, smiling so wide the corners of your eyes crinkled.

You were so cute. Did you know you were the cutest person to ever exist ever?

“Do you think that’s a good plan?”

“Uh-huh, yeah. For sure.” The corners of Nishinoya’s mouth quirked up when you waved your hands around, your face expressive and your lips moving quickly as you told Yachi a story of some kind. He loved how passionate you got over the littlest things.

“Dude, you’re definitely not listening,” Tanaka was close to Nishinoya’s ear now and if he had his usual reflexes he probably would’ve jumped. “What are you staring at?”

The coolest person in the whole world.

Whoa, he should definitely tell you how awesome you are. You would be so wooed at how profound and suave he was.

Without a word he exited the one-sided conversation with Tanaka, ignoring the offended gasp, and made a wobbly bee-line for the kitchen. He handed off his hot chocolate somewhere along the way to some random party-goer. He was a man on a mission and hadn’t bothered paying attention to who had been the victim.

“....guchi said he tried to pretend it was his brother’s.” Yachi was having a hard time getting through the sentence without laughing, Nishinoya observed once you both were in earshot.

“Why would it be in his closet if it was his brother’s!?” You snorted with another belly aching laugh that made his heart skip.

“That’s what I said!”

“Hello ladies,” Nishinoya slid up against the counter opposite you and Yachi and definitely didn’t miss the ledge with his elbow his first try. That would have been embarrassing.

Yachi’s hand covered her mouth and her body shook lightly. How dare she laugh at his epic moves.

“Hello Noya,” you smiled at him in the way that made his heart feel all funny. Like, when he made a really good receive that made adrenaline course through his veins except he was also wrapped in fluffy blankets on a cotton candy cloud.

He gave you a finger gun and closed one eye in an attempted wink, “I thought this was an ugly sweater party. Not an… uh…” He squinted at the tray of desserts behind you. “Good looking sweater party?”

You blinked at him, not saying a word due to what he assumed was how stunningly swept-off-your-feet you were while Yachi glanced between the both of you adorning a sly smile.

“I’m going to go,” Yachi pointed toward the living room where Nishinoya and Tanaka had placed their pathetic miniature plastic tree. “Talk to you guys later.” She winked at you when she left and Nishinoya felt like he should analyze that one, but he was not up for critical thinking.

“So,” you gave him a once-over which made him smile dopily back at you. “You look like you’ve had a good night.”

“I cannot remember the alphabet.” Nishinoya said confidently, giving you two thumbs up. Another rendition of ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ began playing and Nishinoya whipped his head toward the living room where Shoyo was standing conspicuously near the speaker. “Shoyo, I swear to god!”

“It’s a Christmas classic!” He shouted back, getting in a defensive stance in front of the speaker. “I’ll play it as many times as I want.”

“Not in my house you son of a-” Nishinoya began climbing over the counter for the quickest route to fight the orange-haired punk when you reached out and grabbed his wrist. He looked down at your amused smile with wide eyes.

“Let’s go outside.”

“But it’s snowing,” Nishinoya pointed out the obvious before his slow to process brain realized he’d be alone with you. He nearly fell on his face hopping off the counter. “Outside it is.”

Nishinoya had you walk in front of him to the front door, like he assumed a gentleman would, and behind your back he gave Hinata an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. Hinata stuck his tongue out and it took every bit of self-control Nishinoya had left to not go over there and teach him why he shouldn’t disrespect his elders.

“Here,” you were offering him his red winter jacket by the time he turned around, already having put yours on. His heart warmed that you had remembered what his coat looked like-ignore you two walked to class together multiple times a week. He still knew you were the smartest and nicest and coolest person ever for bothering to remember that detail about him.

He flung his coat on and trailed after you into the winter night. A shiver racked his body at the drastic temperature change when he stepped onto his snow dusted porch, the white fluff falling lightly from the sky.

Nishinoya loved snowy nights. More specifically he loved how the sky was lighter than it should be, a shade of pink that only seemed to exist during a quiet snowy evening where the snow was sparkling and untouched. Before it became disgustingly dirty from cars on the streets or crushed by people’s footsteps as they walked across campus to classes they dreaded.

He was also a sucker for throwing snowballs at an unsuspecting Tanaka, but that was a separate story.

He had zoned out so hard he hadn’t noticed you brushing off the front step of his porch, clearing off a place for you both to sit. You patted the space beside you and without thought he was already down.

“It’s pretty,” you admired, looking out toward the freshly covered lawn.

“Yeah,” Nishinoya said, focusing on you. Even with the porches overhang the snowfall’s slight angle caused snowflakes to collect on your hair and jacket. He wanted to reach out and touch one, but clenched his fists instead.

You glanced over and caught his blatant staring, but he was too at peace to be embarrassed. He just enjoyed looking at you, especially when your nose and cheeks were painted red from the winter’s cold. Or maybe you were blushing. Maybe you were as affected by his presence as he was yours.

That would be nice.

“I’m happy,” Nishinoya proclaimed, glancing out towards his untouched lawn. He should build a snowman… What was that little thing from that Disney movie? Sven? No that’s not it. He should build that though. That would be sick.

“I’m glad,” your voice came out barely above a whisper and oh yeah he was in the middle of something important. He felt his heart do the skipping thing again that only happened around you. He wondered if you knew the effect you had on him.

Nishinoya gave you a lopsided smile, “I like being with you.” He leaned back on the porch with the support of his hands. “But you make my chest feel funny.”

“Funny?”

“Yeah,” he rubbed his coat over where his heart was currently beating sporadically against his rib cage. “Like, when I do a good Rolling Thunder.”

“I make you feel like Rolling Thunder?”

“No, that doesn’t...” Nishinoya put a hand on his forehead. That wasn’t right at all. He tried to reach past the thick layer of fog in his mind for the right words, but it was too dense. “It’s like… when you’re sick, but then someone makes warm soup and after you eat it you don’t want to vomit anymore!”

You just stared at him which led him to believe he didn’t explain it well.

“Okay… how about when you go to McDonalds in the summer thinking the ice cream machine is broken, but it’s not!” He threw his hands up, excitedly. “So, you thought you were going to suffer, but you end up getting a sundae.”

You were still looking at him with a brow raised and this was turning out to not be his night.

“Um… Oh oh oh! it’s like when you really have to poop and you think somebody else is in the bathroom, but it turns out there’s not! That relief you feel when you finally get to just let it-”

“Okay,” you put a hand over his mouth and his eyes lit up with elation. Hell yeah, he did it. He was fucking shakespeare. A true poet. English classes would be studying this moment for centuries to come. “I have no clue what you’re trying to say.”

“What?” He pulled your hand off his mouth. “How?”

“You just told me I feel like a poop.”

“No, you feel like the relief during the poop, not the poop itself!” He rolled his eyes. It seriously wasn’t a hard concept to grasp.

You blinked several times before your eyes slowly widened in realization. “Are you trying to tell me you like me?” Then a hand flew to your forehead. “Through poop metaphors?”

“There were several metaphors actually but-”

You punched him in the shoulder and he rubbed it with a whine. He had never confessed feelings before, but that probably wasn’t a desired reaction.

“You can’t just do that while you’re drunk, you asshole.”

“Wow, name calling seems a little uncalled for don’t you-”

“I can’t kiss you when you’re drunk.” You let out a frustrated groan and buried your face in your hands. “I can’t even fully trust that you mean it.”

Nishinoya’s jaw went slack. His brain was half functioning, but kissing definitely sounded like good times. Wait, what was that last part? Trusting him for, huh?

“I don’t lie,” he tilted his head slightly confused. “I don’t care if you don’t like me back, but I would never make something like this up to hurt you.”

You peeked up at him wearily, which still made his heart drop a little, but when you nodded he felt better. All that mattered was you trusted him. He didn’t care about much else in the moment. Although that kissing comment had not been overlooked.

“I also…” Your face turned a deeper shade of red than the snowy weather had allowed and Nishinoya definitely settled on you blushing. “Don’t not like you.”

Double negatives was a trip for someone who’s brain wasn’t at full capacity, but he worked it out. He beamed at you and bounced lightly in his seat on the porch step you both resided on. He could easily work with that. More than work with that it was everything he’d wanted.

“We should probably do something about it then,” he suggested, his smile softening as he gazed at you through hooded eyes. “I have a feeling I’ll be hungover tomorrow.”

You cocked your head to the side, clearly confused at his topic change. “A genius observation, yes.”

“We should go get a hangover brunch since I’ll wake up miserable at noon,” he propped himself up by placing his cheek in his palm. “Hangover days are always best when you spend them with your favorite people.”

The corners of your mouth quirked up into a smile as you reached over, brushing some snow out of his hair and lightly trailing your knuckles down his cheeks. “Yeah, sounds like a date.”

Nishinoya hummed in agreement, wanting to do little now beside exist with you and watch the snow as it fell from the midnight sky. He was exhausted. His brain had done way too much work that night and he needed to lay down.

He peeked back over toward you, adorning a content smile on your lips and he sighed deeply.

Nishinoya had never been the brightest volleyball in the basket, but he knew three things for damn sure. After watching a movie over fifteen times he apparently was still incapable of naming the main cast, alcoholic hot chocolate was his new best friend, and he liked you.

He really really liked you.

[world-of-aus]

New Beginnings

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Mobster!Reader / Mobster!Brock Rumlow x Mobster!Reader

Word Count: 4,837

Warnings: talk of domestic abuse(it hints at it so if you are not comfortable i would recommend not reading, Brock being an ass, some wholesome Bucky Barnes content, and reader being a badass.

Author’s Note: My third request sent in by the lovely @morganclaire4​! Two more requests sit in my inbox, almost there! This was so much fun to write and i can’t thank you enough for sending this in! I’m trying daily to improve on my storytelling and i couldn’t help but to spice it up a bit and add some story for you! I hope you enjoy what i compiled for you! There will be an update for Behind the Screen Tomorrow, Family Matters the day after, and my fourth request will be out after that!

“ Hey! I have a request for Mob!Bucky. I was thinking maybe Bucky is married to the reader. Shes always been in a mob and she was married off to another man but Bucky got her out. Whenever Bucky comes home, she is always dressed up (makeup and everything) even if she didn’t go anywhere and she always has dinner made when he walks in. One day he asks her why she’s always doing that. She tells him that it was always expected of her. He tells her that she doesn’t have to do that every night.”

Find My Other Works Here: Main Masterlist

Your heels clicked against the tiled floor, a determination in your stride. The Kraft clasp envelope weighing heavy in your hand as you move forward. You passed the common room Steve and Sam spotting you. “Good morning boys,” was your simple yet quick greeting as you walked past them.

Hurried feet chased after you, Steve’s hand falling to your shoulder bringing you to an abrupt stop, “Steven let me go,” you murmured eyes falling to his hand before sliding up to meet his.

“Y/n he’s in a meeting,” he tried.

“I’m well aware Steve, but he’s also in a meeting with my father, and my scum of an ex-husband those are the ones I’m here to see, not him,”

“Y/n-”

“Steve just like you are Bucky’s right-hand man, I am my father’s, and as my father’s right hand I must inform him of any occurrences going on that could be affecting family business and or bringing harm to one of our own, now if you would please, I need to step into that office to speak with my father,”

He’s eyeing you then, before a sigh is leaving his lips, Bucky could very well have his head for interrupting them, “fine but I'm coming with, at least so it looks like I tried to stop you,”

A smile is tugging at your lips, “oh Steven there is no stopping the hell that is about to rain down on him,”

Steve shocked by your words watches you slide his hand from your shoulder before continuing down the hall. Your head is turning slightly, “You coming Steve,”

You make it to the end of the hall your manicured hand wrapping around the doorknob, as you twist it open the force in which you push it causes it to bang against the wall. Three sets of eyes fall to your calm form, “Father, James, Brock,” you hiss through your teeth, eyes turning to slits as they fall to him.

“Y/n sweetheart,” you father coughs, “to what do we owe the pleasure, we’re just finishing wrapping up a meeting, can this wait” you’ve embarrassed him, good.

Your eyes turn to your fathers a sickening sweet smile pulling at your lips, “actually father, it can’t, you s-”

“y/n sweetheart, the men are talking, I'm sure whatever meaningless thing you have to say can wait till we’re done,” Your eyes are fitting back to Rumlow the grip on the envelope tightening.

“that’s sweet,” you coo, “but you lost the privilege to so much as utter one word to me the second you laid a hand on me,” you flung the envelope at him, “sign the papers Brock!”

Your father is sitting up straighter in his seat, and you can visibly see Bucky’s jaw clenching, “excuse me,” your father speaks up, “what is this about, sign what papers?”

“I’m sorry but it seems your daughter has lost her damn mind,” Rumlow hisses eyes glaring daggers.

“oh fuck you Brock!”

“y/n,” your dad is seething, “that is enough you will not speak to him like that, that is your husband and you must respect him!”

“It’s ex-husband,” you grunt “or at least it should have been,” you muttered looking at your father, lI'm not going to be silenced anymore father, not by you, and definitely not by you,” you hiss pointing an accusing finger at Brock.

Rumlow is standing then the chair he previously occupied falling to the floor with a loud bang as he moves over to you hands gripping your face roughly. Your father and Bucky push to their feet, your father shouting angrily, Bucky about ready to leap over his desk and murder Brock where he stands. Steve is pressed up against your back, “go ahead Rumlow,” you grit, “show them what really went on behind closed doors, show them why because of you I was never able to physically present myself at meetings because there wasn’t enough makeup to cover the bruising you left behind,”

“Brock what is she talking about,” your father growled behind him, “did you lay a hand on her?” your father’s question went unanswered.

“What the fuck do you want y/n,” he hisses voice low, “did I not give you enough, was there not enough money to buy your fucking happiness,”

“Our marriage was one of convenience Brock, an agreement between our fathers so that they could continue to do shady shit without losing any more men,” you hissed, “I didn’t have a say in my future, much less the man I was to spend the rest of my days with, it wasn’t even a marriage certificate I signed that afternoon, it was a damn contract that was written up in the small office of the towns lawyer,”

“Marrying me should have been enough y/n,” he grunted shaking your chin with the hold he had on you, “you had all the money happiness could buy you,”

“Our marriage,” you growled, “should have been a deep and loving friendship, one so strong that you would give your life for me, the way I was to do for you, instead I overlooked your shady lies and “in the dark” actions opting to turn the other eye, I overlooked how you enjoyed the company of various other women more than my own, you made a mockery of me, blaming me for the beatings you would bestow on me, you abused my innocence, abused the love I tried so hard to have for you, well no more Brock,” you grunted pushing your hands into his chest roughly to send him back, Steve moved to the front of you then still leaving Brock in your sight, “I will no longer allow you to hold me bound to you, I no longer want any association with you, and if that means breaking that contract, then so be it, my father and I can find another way to deal with the likes of your men, now sign the damn papers!”

The room fell into silence, “what the hell is going on Rumlow,” Bucky questioned from in front of you, he looks absolutely deadly.

Brock is still staring you down, his tongue running along the inside of his mouth, “apparently y/n felt the need to air the dirty laundry,” a laugh escapes his lips, “bitch didn’t know how to get rid of me, guess she felt the need to go to extreme measures,”

“Did you lay a hand on my daughter,” your father is grunting moving towards the taller man,” Brock is turning to face your father than, “did much more than that,” he hissed, “had her begging me every night to-”

“chose your next words carefully Brock,” Bucky growled eyes growing dark, “unless you’d like me to unload a bullet right between your eyes.”

Four sets of eyes watched Brock move back to where he had sat, hands picking up the envelope as he tore into it. A moment of relief washed over you as he snatched a pen from Bucky’s desk black ink running over the contract. Throwing the pen back onto the desk he moved over to you crowding your and Steve’s space, “he’ll grow tired of you two you know, preparing dinner each night, and making yourself up every single day will only get you so far y/n, there was a reason I found comfort in other women, they provided me the one thing you couldn’t,” he leaned in further.

“ENOUGH RUMLOW!” Bucky growled as he rounded the desk appearing on the opposite side of where your now ex-husband stood. Brock raised his hands in mock defense as he backed away from you, feet moving him towards the door, “I can take a hint Barnes,” he muttered as he stepped out of the room, “gentleman I would say it was a pleasure doing business with you, and I look forward to seeing you again, but that won’t be the case,” he turns to lock eyes with you one last time, “I do hope ridding yourself of me was worth it y/n.”

The room falls quiet at the sound of the door clicking closed behind him, “Steve get her home, her father and I need to have a word,” your eyes are shooting to Bucky, though for the first time since you could remember he’s refusing to meet yours.

“Bucky, I-”

“Steve now please.” Bucky gets out in a strained voice.

You don’t get the chance to argue as Steve turns his body into yours, hands guiding you out of the room.

Your quiet as Steve guides you out of the office, quiet when he tucks you into the car, quiet when he leads you into your shared home with Bucky.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Is his question from where he stands at the door.

A sigh leaves your lips, the truth was out there, no need to hide it now, “I lived in fear Steve,” you began, “I’d be lucky if there was a day or two between his lash-outs, I felt weak, alone, he really did buy my silence,”

“Why didn’t you say just say something to Bucky, he would of done something from the very start, he was taken with you from the very beginning y/n, you know that,”

How could you forget.

“Don’t stray to far y/n, I have some business to attend to,” Brock grunted low in your ear before he was removing himself from you. You made your way towards the bar, but your eyes remained  trained on his back.

“So is your husband the only one allowed to have fun at these things?”

A smile pulls at the corner of your lips but you hide it well behind a glass of wine, “do you have a death wish Barnes, or do you just like to play with fire?” You questioned eyes still trained on Brocks back where’s he crowding one of the many girls in Pierces area.

A low chuckle is leaving his lips, one that has a shiver rolling down your exposed back, “we all know this life can be short, so why not have some fun.”

“Flirting with a married woman is not my definition of fun,”  

He’s sliding closer to you his back to the scene your watching closely, “well lucky for you I’m not a woman, nor am I married,”

Soft laughter fell from your lips, “always the charmer,”

“It’s a shame, your father and my father couldn’t meet, I’d be walking you around this room like a crowned jewel,”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest, “James,” it comes as a warning.

He leans further into the bar the coat of his jacket brushing your arm, “your unhappy doll, he doesn’t treat you right, look where you are and where he is, in the arms of another women, a damn shame if you ask me,” you have no idea you thought.

“Well then it’s a damn shame your father didn’t meet with my father sooner,”

Bucky chuckled a shake of his head, “someday soon you’re going to see your worth y/n and I’m going to be the one to show it to you.”

And for the first time since Brock left your side since arriving your eyes are finally leaving his back to flit over to the man next to you, “don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep Buck,” you murmured voice low.

His eyes are finding yours in the dim room, his face illuminated by the low lights of the bar, “I’m a man of my word y/n, and you and I both now I don’t back down on my promises,” he leans in towards you, “especially if that promises involves you,”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart steadily beating away in your chest. You watch him push off the bar, fingers curling around his drink, “I’ll see you around y/n,” he murmurs a sly grin and wink thrown in your direction.

“He knew how Rumlow was, he just didn’t know to what extent, nobody knew though,” you argued, “not even my own father knew,”

“Is that why you would push him away, fight his advances,” he questions, “because if you say you weren’t taken with him from the beginning as well I’d say you were a horrible liar,”

“I was taken with him Steve and that was the problem,” you cried, “Rumlow picked up on the happiness Bucky brought me, as much as I wanted to run into his arms Rumlow had eyes everywhere!”

“goddamnit y/n,” Bucky growled, “why are you fighting this so hard, why can’t you just admit you feel it too,”

Your heart raced away in your chest, “James, you don’t know what you’re feeling, what I'm feeling,” what I'm going through you thought, “I can’t keep doing this.”

“So then why are you here?” he questioned angrily, “why do you come when I call, tell me why?”

Tears pulled at your eyes, you were hurting in more ways than one, “I don’t know,” you whispered voice wavering from the tears threatening to spill over.  

“Bullshit y/n, you know why, why do you keep doing this,” he questioned exasperatedly, “why do you keep pushing me away just tell me why,”

The first tear fell then, another, and another, “look at you y/n,” he murmured, “your hurting, and I know it’s not because of me, what is he doing to you?”

You wanted to tell him, wanted to scream it out to the world what he was doing, but who would believe you? Brock had assured you every night that nobody would believe you, so why would Bucky be any exception.

Bucky crossed the carpeted room, hands finding there way to your face where he wiped away the tears from your cheeks, “tell me what you need me to do y/n, you know I’ll do anything for you, you just have to say the word,”

More tears filled your eyes sliding down your cheeks, “you can’t Bucky,” you murmured lips wobbling, “you need to go,”you whispered hand finding its way to Bucky’s chest, heart beating steadily under your fingers.

“You don’t mean that y/n,” he tries.

Your shaking your head, the tears still streaming steadily, “please Bucky I can’t, I can’t do this anymore,”

His face falls, and it pains your heart more than any pain Rumlow could ever inflict on you, “you don’t mean that y/n, you know you don’t,”

A sob tears through you, “Bucky please.”

“Is that what you really want,” he questions quietly, “do you really want me to go, because if this is it, this is it y/n, I don’t have it in me to keep doing this back and forth with you,” your heart breaks in your chest because you don’t want this to be the end, but you need to do things right, you won’t have a man fight your battle for you, you won’t be weak any longer.

“i’m sorry Bucky.”

“He shakes his head, “I’m sorry too,” he murmurs pressing a kiss to your head, he moves away from you his feet carrying him towards the door, how badly you wanted to go with him, he turns to face you one last time, “I'll see you around doll, sorry I couldn’t hold up my end of the promise.”

More tears fall from your eyes, a choked sob of his name falls from your lips as you restrain yourself from running to him, it had to be like this, you had to do this right.

He gives you one last teary smile before the door is closing behind him.

“He was a mess you know, that night after you told him you couldn’t see him anymore, I had never seen a man more distraught, and I just couldn’t understand why, I saw the love you had for him,”

A shaky sigh leaves your lips as you wipe away at the tears you hadn’t realized stained your cheeks, “that night that I told Bucky I couldn’t do this anymore I was really telling myself I couldn’t,” you pause, “I couldn’t take anymore of Rumlow’s abuse whether it had been emotional or physical I just couldn’t Bucky had shown me what real love was, how I should be loved,”

“so then why did you push him away?” he questioned.

“had Bucky found out what Rumlow was doing, he would have had him six feet under before he could even give an explanation, much less a single word out, I didn’t want Bucky to know because this was my battle to fight, I had been weak for so long, having Bucky fight this for me would only add to it, and I wanted to go about it right Steve, I wanted to do it so I no longer had any tie to Rumlow, if I wanted to do this with Bucky which I did, I wanted to do it right,”

“so that evening you showed up to the office when I was heading out you had settled things,”

“yeah, or at least I thought I had,” you murmured.  

Shaky legs lead you to the building doors, your heart racing away in your weary chest. Your hands reach for the brass handles but the door pushing open has you stepping back. Steve appearing, he takes a look at you and you catch the moment his defenses go up, “what are you doing here y/n?”

“I need to talk to Bucky,”

Steve’s shaking his head as he steps out of the building his body blocking your entrance, “I think you said enough, I'm not letting you hurt him anymore y/n, he hasn’t been himself and it's been a month!”

Your heart is breaking in your chest, “Steve I just need to talk to him, five minutes that’s all I'm asking, I need to explain myself to him, at least give me that,” you tried.

“why should I give you that chance, when you couldn’t even give him the chance y/n, It wouldn’t be fair, you’re just going to break him further If I let you go in there,” Steve argued.

“Steve please,” you pleaded, “I promise, I just need five minutes, I'm not going to do anything to hurt him any further, I just need five minutes,”

A sigh is leaving Steve’s lips, his demeanor falling, “five minutes y/n,” he grunts moving aside to pull open the door, “but I swear if you leave him in worse condition than he already is, I won’t hesitate to send Romanoff to pay you a visit,”

Any other day you would have thrown him a sarcastic remark in regards to his threat about Natasha, but with the situation between you and Bucky you knew his words were not to be taken lightly.

“he’s in his office,” he adds as you walk past him, “I hope you fix whatever is going on between the both of you, for both of your sake’s”

“I hope so too,” you murmur the shuts softly as you continue forward. The closer you get to his office the more your legs threaten to give in from under you. You could do this, if you were able to overcome all the hell Rumlow had put you through, you could surely do this.

Bringing a shaky hand up to the door, you knocked softly, Bucky’s muffled voice calling you in. You sucked in a breath before moving forward your hand twisting the knob. The air around you grew tense as you walked into the office, the door falling closed behind you. Bucky’s eyes were unreadable, his glare intent on your unmoving form. “what are you doing here y/n?”

“I need to talk to you,”

He scoffed fingers rubbing at his eyes as he pushed away from the desk to stand from his cushioned chair, “you want to talk now, you had the chance a little more than a month ago to talk,”  

You watch him move around his desk as he gather’s his things, “Just give me five minutes to explain myself please,”

His eyes glance up at you, his expression bored, “now why should I do that, y/n when I told you this was it, I meant it, I can’t do this,” he gestured between the two of you, “anymore,”

“Bucky please,” you plead, “five minutes that’s all I'm asking,”

“why y/n, why?” he grunts, “I constantly asked and asked things of you, for you, and you never gave me the time, now why should I do it for you?”

“Because I just need you to listen, I need you to listen because I love you,”

The papers he had in his hands fall to the desk, his jaw clenching, “don’t you dare y/n,” he growls, “don’t you dare throw those words around if you don’t-” he looks away from you fists clenching as he tries to contain himself.

You breathed in deeply, if you were going to say something, now was the time, you only hoped he would hear you.

“Bucky the last time we met, I know I hurt you, but you have to understand it was hurting me to do what I had to do I-”

“Then why did you do it?” he growled, “why are you standing here right now confessing your love for me, it surely wasn’t there a month ago, what changed?”

“I had to do it because I needed to do things right” you argued, “I was going through things James, and I needed to do things right for my sake,”

“you say you needed to do things right yet you were willing to mess up the ONE thing that was going right for you?”

Your anger and frustration were boiling to the surface, this was not how you wanted things to go, “It was a risk I was willing to take,” you hissed, “You don’t know the type of man Rumlow can be Bucky -”

He scoffed cutting you off, “oh I don’t” he hummed, “I know exactly the man he is, yet you still chose him over me, you were hurting and yet you still chose him over me, over us,”

“I didn’t!” you yelled, “if you would just stop interrupting me,” you hissed, “Bucky that night when I said ‘I can’t keep doing this’ that was meant more for me than you, I couldn’t deal with the unhappiness Rumlow brought me when I would return home after being with you, I didn’t want to return to home that was so dark, so lonely, so loveless,” you paused your eyes watering, “I wanted to return to a home that was full of light, full of love, I wanted to return to a home that had you,”

Bucky lips are parting, his posture falling, “then why did you-”

“I needed to do things right Bucky, I didn’t want to have any sort of tie to Rumlow if I was going to chase my happiness with you, I wanted everything you had to offer, I wanted to be loved the way I deserved, I wanted you, but I needed to end things with Brock before I could chase after my own happiness.”

“So, did you?” his question hangs in the air because he doesn’t want to have any hope just yet, he can’t let himself fall again.

Your nodding through a teary half smile, “His lawyer spoke to mine this afternoon, and said they had been signed and sealed,”

He’s moving around to the front of the desk feet away from you, “y/n,” he murmurs shakily, “you better not be joking right now sweetheart, because I swear to-”

“I’m not,” you cut him off, “bucky it has been an unbearable month of not being in your arms, but I'm not going to waste one more second,”

Bucky’s chuckling low, his head shaking, “come here,” and you almost don’t catch his words if it hadn’t been for his arms opening up to you. You couldn’t close the distance between you fast enough as you crashed into his arms. Your arms were wrapped tightly around him, his embrace just as tight, as the tension in him melted away.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured into your hair, “there was so many days I wanted to give in and call, but I couldn’t find it in me,” He’s pulling away from you, his hands finding their way to your face, “why couldn’t you just tell me what you were doing y/n, why go through this alone,”

Your hands rest over his, “Because I knew what you would do if I told you, and this was something I needed to do for me,”

His eyes are staring deeply into yours, fingers running over your cheek, “did you mean what you said earlier?” and there's a hint of a teasing smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“I did,” you whisper.

His head is falling to yours, lips inches from your own, “say it again,” he grins.

“I love you,” you murmur closing the last bit of space left between your lips.

“So he never actually signed them till today,” Steve murmured more to himself than you, “I just wish you would have said something to Bucky earlier y/n, but I understand why you didn’t because if I were Bucky Rumlow wouldn’t have made it out of that office in one piece today,”

“I just hope Bucky can be as understanding as you are, I should have never kept any of this from him, but I was scared,”

Steve’s moving over to you then his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, “he loves you more than you know y/n, I promise you he’s going to understand,” he reassures.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips, “I hope your right Steve, I hope your right,”

Your setting the kitchen table when the front door is opening, Bucky walks through, door closing softly behind him as he makes his way over to you. He stops in the entrance of the kitchen, eyes on you, his hand stretches out towards you. You swallow the knot in your throat as you place the utensils down onto the table your feet carrying you to him.

His arms are around you in an instant, his lips pressed to your hair, “I understand why you couldn’t tell me, I just wish you would have doll, god to think he ever laid a hand on you I could have,”

Your moving your head away to look up at him, “and that’s why I couldn’t tell you, I felt weak Bucky, he took away my strength, he took everything from me, so when I finally made the decision to leave, I needed to do that for myself, you had already done so much for me, you had showed me love, love that I deserved, and I didn’t need Rumlow tainting that for me as well,”

His hands are coming to rest on your cheek, “I just wish I could have taken you away from all that pain and hurt sooner, someone like you should never know a pain like that,”

Your hands come up to rest on his chest, “and with you I never will,”

A loving smile stretches across his face, “I was going to wait off on doing this a little longer, but after the events of today, I don’t think there is a better time than now,” your head tilts in question.

His hands are sliding from your face, as he slips to the floor, a shaky hand comes up to your mouth as he pulls a black box from his slacks.

“Y/n I remember promising you that I would show you your worth, I remember telling you that you should be walked around the room like crown jewl, and I remember promising you that I would be me the one to do all this for you, well sweetheart I'm a man of my word, and I'm also a man that would love to spend the rest of my day showing you just that,” he pauses as he snaps the box open a beautiful diamond staring back at you, “will you marry me?”

A choked sob is falling from your lips, your head nodding furiously.

He’s standing then as he pulls the ring from its box, “it was my ma’s,” he whispers as he slides it onto your awaiting finger.

“Oh Bucky,” you murmur looking from the ring, then back to him, “I love you so much,” you’re laughing through your tears as you jump into his embrace your lips melting with his.

A year later

It’s in his embrace, and the eyes of your closest friends and family when he finally shows you off like a crowned jewel, the two of you swaying to your favorite song.

“you look absolutely breathtaking tonight Mrs. Barnes,” he murmurs into your ear.

You pull away to look at him, painted red lips pulled into a grin, “like a crowned jewel?” you questioned.

He’s grinning then too, “a crowned jewel finally getting what she deserves,” he murmured his lips pressing to yours lovingly.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Waking Up Alone

This is for my anon who requested something angsty and fluffy with El Phantasmo- hope you enjoy! The idea is partially inspired by the Cowboy Junkies song "Sun comes up, it's Tuesday morning". (I am the queen of sad lady songs, I swear.)

Pairing: El Phantasmo x OFC

Word count: 3.091

Content advisory: language, sexual references

Sun comes up, it’s Tuesday morning

Hits me straight in the eye

Guess you forgot to close the blind last night

Oh that’s right, I forgot, it was me

The morning sun feels like an assault on your eyes, punching its way through your delicate eyelids and right through into your nerves. Yeah, you definitely had a few too many drinks last night. Gin and tonic with the girls, which you hadn’t done in ages. It ended up with pitchers at the dive you’d been frequenting since you were too young to get into bars, the place that truly catered to everyone. Beer after liquor, never sicker; liquor before beer, in the clear. Why the hell had you switched from liquor to beer?

Doesn’t matter now, you think, wrestling yourself into a sitting position while protecting your eyes with a trembling hand. Wrestling yourself. You sigh a little as you consider the term that immediately springs to mind. You didn’t mention the breakup to the girls. It still feels too strange, too ephemeral. Were you ever really a couple anyway? You suppose that’s the crux of the problem. You didn’t know where you stood, so you’d estimated that you were somewhere it turned out you weren’t close to.

If Riley The Perfidious Bastard were around, he would have made sure to lower the Roman shade you’d fashioned out of an old curtain and some bamboo rods. He was always impressed at your ability to create homey touches from spare parts. Now that he’s not around, you realize how much you’d liked having your abilities praised.

If Riley were here, you’d also be waking up to the smell of coffee, the most wonderful thing in the world for someone in your condition. But there’s nothing. No rich, roasted scent, no happy, burbling noises from the machine in the kitchen. You have to get up and take care of it yourself, which you haven’t had to do in a long time. Goddammit.

You run one hand over the expanse of your king bed, the plump mattress extending almost all the way to the window. Sure, the thing took up most of the room but you didn’t care. The room was only going to be used for sleep anyway. Well, sleep and that other, delicious thing. That thing you missed so much. Well, you missed it the way that Riley had done it. If he was really gone, you were going to have a hell of a time finding someone who could make you want to spend all day in bed the way he had. You still hadn’t made your way back to the center of the bed. Somehow, your mind refused to accept that things were over. You were still making space for him.

With a dramatic effort that has no one to appreciate it, you heave yourself off the bed and make your way towards the kitchen. You’re halfway through the process of making coffee when you realize that you’re wearing one of his shirts, one of the ones with his logo emblazoned on it. You must have just reached for the first thing you could find when you got home and, of course, that would be something from the pile of shirts you’d made next to the bedroom door; shirts to be given to charity because you sure as hell didn’t want to look at them anymore. That pile had been sitting there for three weeks, the dried traces of angry tears still on every part of it, and you hadn’t gotten around to carrying everything to the donation bin less than a block away.

Coffee is more important than anything right now, so you focus on that. You also shove a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster oven. Bread and peanut butter will help ease the seething broth in your gut and allow you to concentrate on the day. Which would be even more useful if your day actually required concentration. Band practice had been pushed back to tomorrow because Kyle and Lily were off in the country visiting her parents. Sure, you could work on the guitar parts by yourself, but it’s not like there was anything to learn. You had a handful of gigs coming up in the next few weeks, mostly local, all focused on your last album. Practice was just a matter of making sure you all kept tight and maybe came up with some new ways to make the live experience a little different for people.

As autumn shifted closer to winter, it was always the quiet season. Students were running short on money, the weather became unpredictable, and going on the road became less and less lucrative the closer it got to the holidays. It was approaching that time of year when people started to nest rather than seek a mate. Or at least that’s how it was for most people. It just wasn’t that way for wrestlers dividing their time between North America and Japan. You cringe at how that thought makes you recall the fights you’d had in the last few days of your whatever the hell it was because apparently it wasn’t a relationship.

It’s a very different feeling than at the beginning of spring, when everything was starting to pick up, when you constantly felt excited about what the immediate future held, and when you’d agreed to go to a wrestling show because Nadia was doing makeup for it. You and Wendy had shown up already drunk and had taken advantage of Nadia’s invitation to come backstage.

You’d stolen beer from kraft services and watched Nadia attending to her work while you tried to distract her by making her laugh. You’d been surprisingly successful but she was such a pro that she had no problems. The women took the longest for her to do, but all the performers had to come in to make sure that they’re coloring and contouring was perfect for tv lighting and that was how you’d met him.

The two of you had locked eyes as soon as he came in the room and had remained that way as he settled into Nadia’s chair. You hadn’t been able to tear yourself away from those huge, shiny orbs with their saucy expression and despite your inebriated state, you could feel that stare lodging itself in your memory forever.

“This is El Phantasmo,” she giggled.

“He’s a what now?” you’d snorted in response, relishing the flare of indignation in his eyes.

“Are we letting just anyone back here now?” he snapped.

“These are my friends!” Nadia assured him, slurring her speech as she motioned to you and Wendy. You’d been feeding her the beer you’d purloined as well.

“Like I said. We’re letting just anyone in.”

At that, you’d given his seat a shove with your foot, despite the fact that Nadia had started to apply bronzer to his cheeks. He was left with a dark streak across one side of his face and nose, which had made you and Wendy crack up.

“Come on,” Nadia chided, “I need to make these guys look good.”

“Good luck with that,” you laughed.

The man you knew only as El Phantasmo flipped you off and you’d returned the gesture, swiveling on your seat a little so that your hips were thrust forward. It wasn’t that he was the most gorgeous thing you’d ever seen, far from it. But something about him just got to you. He had such an effect on you that even as you were mocking him, you let your body move and pose in ways that were intended to resonate with his basest masculine instincts.

You’d been captivated by the show, particularly by his display of athleticism, as well as his bratty defiance to what the audience wanted. You’d booed him with everything you had and you’d been so drawn to him that you’d had to restrain yourself from running to the ring and grabbing his pert ass right there.

Instead, you’d made your way backstage again and insinuated yourself into the group that was going for drinks. You insisted that Nadia come along because Wendy had headed home as soon as the show was over. You wanted someone to hang out with so that it wasn’t totally obvious what and who you were there for. It didn’t really matter, though, because everyone was so friendly and most were so drunk that they didn’t care that they had no idea who you were.

You’d kept an eye on him for a while and then approached the bar when you saw him going for a refill, elbowing your way in so that you were right next to him, bumping his shoulder hard as you got to the bar.

“You wanna buy me a drink?” you crooned.

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll buy you one.”

“Does that mean I have to hang out with you?”

“Yup. Besides, you know you want to.”

“I really don’t.”

He was laughing a little when you said it, and when you leaned over to scream your order at the bartender, ordering him a random drink since you hadn’t even bothered asking, he ran his hand down your back and gave your ass a quick slap. You’d smirked to yourself. You knew you’d seen the spark in his eyes.

“Riley,” he shouted right into your ear.

“Deaf now,” you shot back, pushing his drink at him. “You’re skinny for a wrestler.”

“Don’t need to bulk up when you’re as good as I am.”

“Anything else you’re good at?”

“Fucking women with big mouths until they can’t say anything but my name.”

The two of you had spent the night all over his apartment and, yeah, he’d lived up to his own hype. The sex had been outright feral, biting and clawing and animal-like noises until you were both too exhausted to move.

You thought about dropping a hint that you wanted to sleep there but since it was kind of obvious that this was a one-night thing, you’d waited a while then pulled your clothes back on to go. The two of you shared a surprisingly tender kiss at the door and when you made to leave, he’d looked surprised.

“You don’t want to exchange numbers or something?” He’d sounded legitimately surprised.

“Sure.”

You’d entered each other into your phones and you went home in a cab, reflecting that you did feel more of a connection than you’d realized at first.

Still, you held off calling him so as not to look desperate, but he’d called you a couple of days later. Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to admit you were broke until your next royalty check cleared, you’d invited him over for dinner. The two of you had cooked some pasta together and drank a couple of bottles of wine and then tore into each other again, gradually making your way to your bed. Once again, it had been mind-blowing, but the real surprise came at the end of the night.

“Mind if I stay here?” he asked quietly.

You’d patted the pillows beside you and grinned. You’d drifted off thinking that, yes, this was something a little special and you’d woken up thinking the same thing.

Craving the crisp air on your reddened cheeks, you grab a sweater, jeans and boots and that wonderful alpaca poncho you’d found when you and Riley went to that farmer’s market. It was a weird thing to find in a place that was supposed to be all about food but it didn’t matter because it was soft and full of deep colours and even though it had been hotter than hell outside, you knew that you were going to get plenty of use from it once the weather turned colder. At the time, you thought that you’d still be going for walks and dinner and drinks with Riley.

As you get ready, your phone buzzes. Wendy sending you a message.

“Never let me do that again.”

You chuckle, remembering that however bad you got last night, she was the one who ended up trying to dance on the bar, refusing to acknowledge that she couldn’t climb up on it. You’ll all have a good laugh about it later but right now, you can’t deal with it. And the reason you can’t deal with it is because for a second, you’d hoped that it was him texting you.

Your body immediately knows where it wants to go, turning the first corner and heading for the hipster diner you eat from too often. They make a mean breakfast burrito but today, you limit yourself to one of those extra buttery croissants you love so much.

Joanne is working the counter, which is kind of remarkable since you remember running into her late into the night, but although her face is flushed the same as you, she’s smiling warmly at every customer.

“Hey there, lady,” she chuckles. “Still walking?”

“Barely. May I please have coffee and a croissant? And may I ask why Peter isn’t working this morning?”

She prepares your order, grinning. “Well he had some of the guys over to watch the game last night and it turns out he’s in worse shape than I am.”

“The bastard.”

“He was totally unconscious this morning. I hope he’s not dead because being a widow would suck.”

Everyone is in a relationship. Everyone you know is in love. It hurts a lot to think that one of those things is still true of you.

Things had gone to shit over an instagram post of all things. Him during a trip back to Japan, posing with a woman who looked straight out of a modelling agency. Immediately, you’d felt in your gut that something was off and although you hadn’t wanted to seem like you were scrutinizing his every movement, you’d been unable to hold back.

“Is something going on with you and that girl in the pictures with you?”

“Going on?” He’d seemed puzzled. “I mean, we hook up when I’m in Japan. No big deal.”

That’s where he had been wrong. It was a very big deal for you. The two of you hadn’t talked about your status but you realized that you had been assuming that because you’d been wrapped up in the romance of it all that he was too. Apparently not.

It had led to a huge fight, then another resentful exchange, and then he was back in Japan for a week. You hadn’t messaged him at all while he was gone. He didn’t contact you when he got back. You’d come home one day to find your spare set of keys in an envelope in your mailbox. No note, nothing. No request to get his set back from you. Giving someone a spare set of keys was supposed to mean something. How many women had keys to his place?

You ponder it glumly for the umpteenth time as you make your way back to the home that always feels strangely empty to you now. You’d been in the place for five years. He’d been coming around for five months and somehow it feels like he belonged there. You see a figure sitting on the front step of one of the buildings and for a second, you think it’s him, waiting for you to get home, like he used to before he had keys and could go in and surprise you with dinner, or flowers, or-

Then you realize that it actually is him, sitting on your step, drinking a beer and staring off into space. He doesn’t even look up when you come to a halt next to him.

“Dude, it’s nine in the morning. Are you starting early or finishing late?”

He shrugs without looking at you and after a long moment of silence, you sit down next to him. You tear the croissant in half and silently offer it to him but he shakes his head.

“For the love of god, eat something.”

He shakes his head again.

“Fine, become an alcoholic and drink yourself to death for all I care.” You bite into the delicious pastry, humming in satisfaction and finally he reaches over and takes the other half from you.

“Good boy.”

“Here’s the thing,” he says quietly. “I thought that since you’d never said anything, it meant that you had other guys in your life. All the guys I work with either lie to their wines and girlfriends or they just have these open things going on and I guess after a while it starts to seem like that’s the normal thing to do.”

“Well I never said that I was opposed to that. I never said that we couldn’t work something out. But you didn’t even give me the chance. You just carried on as if I didn’t even exist.”

“I didn’t, though.” For the first time, he turns to look at you. His eyes are red and swollen and something tells you that it isn’t from drinking. “I said that I’d hooked up with that girl and I had. In the past. Nothing happened when I was there last time.”

“Then why did you let me believe that something had?”

“I have no fucking idea. And that’s been killing me.”

With a heavy sigh, you reach out and place your hand on his. He immediately grabs hold.

“I think,” he says pensively, “that I felt nervous about telling you I was serious about you. I was nervous because I haven’t felt this serious about someone before. And when you got angry, I think I just flipped out and thought it meant that I was wrong.”

“Wrong for having feelings?”

“Wrong for thinking you did too.”

Your stomach flips and you tighten your hold on his hand.

“Well I did.”

He nods and stares off, his face twitching a little like he’s trying to keep from crying.

“I still do,” you tell him.

He turns and stares at you, big eyes surprised and hopeful.

“Really? Because I’m an asshole.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, “I know.”

“I miss you,” he whispers.

“Why don’t you come in and have a cup of coffee?”

“Only if I can make it,” he grins. “You always put too much in.”

“Asshole,” you grunt, standing up and pulling him with you.

As you unlock the door, he leans in and plants a warm kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

The two of you enter your flat, hand in hand again.