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steddieworks · 1 year

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finally safe for me to fall - chapter 11

hi!! sorry this is so late in the day, but i've had kind of an insane weekend!

some news about fsfmtf: I've decided to go to a bi-weekly posting schedule, as the weekly one was a bit too much for me to keep up with. I'm going to try to update this fic every other Sunday from now on, but forgive me if I get off track!

Also, I just wanted to let you guys know that we're about halfway through the fic now!! can't wait for you to see what i have in store for the next couple of chapters ;)

Enjoy!

read on ao3

Summary: Steve and Eddie spend some quality time after they put the twins to bed.

Warnings for this chapter: swearing, non-graphic descriptions/references to scenes in horror films

Words: 8.3k

The girls sleep nearly the entire way back home from the baby shower. Eddie keeps glancing back at them, a little worried that they won’t sleep tonight if they sleep too much now, but Steve doesn’t seem to be concerned about this. He hums softly as he drives, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the center console, his fingers still intertwined with Eddie’s. If he wasn’t so tired and concerned about the girls, Eddie would probably be panicking a little at the new, yet already familiar, touch.

“Should we stop and grab dinner from somewhere on the way home?” Steve asks as they drive.

Eddie turns to glance at him, giving him a little shrug and smile. “That’s up to you. I can cook when we get back, if you want.”

Steve glances at him, but shakes his head. His lips are twitching when he turns his eyes back to the road. “No, I think I want us to just have an easy night. We could order pizza and watch a movie?”

“That sounds perfect,” Eddie says with a smile. He squeezes Steve’s hand, gently rubbing over the back of it with just the tips of his fingers. He marvels at the softness of his skin, the way his fingers flex as he turns their hands this way and that.

“This is okay, right?” Steve asks softly, gesturing at Eddie’s hands when he looks at him.

Eddie smiles. “More than okay,” he reassures easily. “I… it’s kind of stupid, but being an omega, I really crave physical touch sometimes… so this is really nice,” he mumbles, feeling a bit awkward after admitting to that.

Steve hums. “Well, anytime you need that… just tell me, okay?” He glances away from the road briefly, sending Eddie a searching look. “It’s kind of like scenting each other, yeah? That’s beneficial for both of us, but I need you to tell me when that’s not enough, okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie nods. He nods, but he wants to say, “it’s never enough. It’ll never be enough, it’ll just be scraps of you - scraps of what I really want.”

He doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he begins humming a song, realizing belatedly that it’s the same one that Steve was just humming a few moments before, something he’s fairly sure is by ABBA. Luckily, Steve doesn’t tease him for this. Instead, he just smiles to himself, joining in on the humming with ease.

When they get home, there’s a silent agreement that each of them will wake up one of the girls and help her upstairs, so between the two of them, they manage to get both of them out of the car and to the lobby.

“I’m sleepy,” Ivy whines into Steve’s neck as they wait for the elevator.

“I know, honey,” he murmurs back to her. “But we’ve got to eat dinner before we go to bed, okay?”

Ivy whines again, this time Jasmine joining her, so Eddie is quick to intervene. “Hey, how would you two like to pick out the movie we watch?”

Jasmine lifts her head from his shoulder a bit, looking at him critically. “And we can pick any kind of movie?”

Eddie hesitates, glancing at Steve as they step into the elevator. He’s a little suspicious of her tone, but Steve shrugs and nods, so Eddie replies, “I guess.”

“Even a scary movie?” Ivy asks, her voice full of glee.

“Um…” Eddie starts, glancing over at Steve, suddenly much more uncertain.

Steve shrugs again, but waves a dismissive hand. “We’ll see what sort of options we’ve got for scary movies and then decide,” he says, very diplomatic.

The girls don’t seem to love this answer, but they don’t complain, just giving a mild agreement.

Eddie’s relieved when they finally make it inside. It’s not like they had a particularly bad day or anything, but he’s definitely a little exhausted from all the excitement. There’s also a tingling under his skin, some energy that he hasn’t been able to get out. He almost wishes he was the type of person who actually enjoyed exercise, because he thinks that a good run might just be the very thing he needs to settle the buzzing in his bones.

“Alright, how about you guys go get some pajamas on while me and Eddie order some pizza and find a movie to watch, does that sound alright?” Steve suggests, placing Ivy on the ground so she can do just that.

“Will it be something really scary?” Jasmine asks, sounding just a bit nervous.

“It won’t be too scary, hon,” Steve says, sending her a wink. “And if you get really scared, we’ll change it to something else.”

Jasmine nods, turning to go to her room to change into her pajamas, while Ivy lingers behind for a moment. She waits until her sister is out of sight, then turns to her dad and shrugs. “I think we should watch something really super duper scary.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve asks, quirking an eyebrow at that. When Ivy nods, Steve gives her a little shrug. “Well… we’ll see what I can do about that.”

Eddie knows, realistically, that neither one of them would be able to handle something really scary, and he’s pretty sure Steve also knows this, but Eddie is definitely dubious about what movie he has in mind. Purely for the sake of the twins, of course. Not because he himself is a little nervous about watching something scary. Definitely not because of that.

Well. Maybe a little because of that.

“Pizza?” Steve asks Eddie when both of the girls have left the room.

Eddie nods, smiling at him as he tugs awkwardly at his shirt sleeves. He’s not sure why he feels so out of place all of a sudden, but he does. It’s almost like being on a first date, except obviously that’s not at all what’s happening. He’s known Steve for weeks, and has lived with him basically the whole time he’s known him. There is no reason to feel this weird all of a sudden, but with Steve’s eyes on him, he feels seen in a way that he’s not sure he’ll ever be fully used to.

“I’m gonna…” Eddie says, though he has no idea where that sentence is going. Steve pauses where he was dialing the phone, glancing at him curiously. Eddie blinks. God, he’s being so fucking stupid. “Pajamas.”

And now he can’t even say a full sentence. Great.

Steve smiles at him, a sweet, knowing little thing. “Sure.”

Eddie waits for a beat, as if Steve is going to say anything else, then forces his feet into the direction of his bedroom to actually get changed. The whole way there, he lectures himself mentally for how ridiculous he’s being. It’s silly to be so shaken up by the whole baby shower fiasco- the twins’ slip-ups, the way he felt like he and Steve presented themselves as something like mates- Eddie should not be this affected by it all. He needs to be professional, and put his stupid, childish feelings aside.

Resolved, he tugs on a long-sleeved t-shirt and his red flannel pajamas pants before making his way back to the lounge. He can hear the twins already in there, giggling and talking, and when he rounds the corner, he sees Steve crouched in front of the television, messing with something. The girls are snuggled up together on one end of the sofa, a big blanket draped over their laps, and Eddie feels his heart constrict painfully at the sight. He loves them so, so much.

“Need any help?” Eddie asks as he crosses the floor, pausing beside Steve.

Steve glances up at him, shaking his head with a smile. “No, I’ve got it. Can you go grab a blanket off my bed, though?”

Eddie nods, making a silly face at the kids as he passes the couch.

The smell of Steve overwhelms him just a bit when he crosses the threshold into Steve’s bedroom. He ignores it the best he can, making his way over to the bed and grabbing the fuzzy throw blanket folded neatly at the end. It’s ridiculous, and pathetic, but he can’t help but bury his nose in the softness, just for a minute, inhaling deeply. God. Steve smells so damn good, Eddie doesn’t hardly know what to do with himself.

Well. That’s not entirely true. He knows he needs to stop being like this.

He makes his way back to the living room, pausing when he sees Steve curled up on one end of the sofa, the twins sprawled on the other.

Eddie has two clear choices.

Either he can sit in the space they left between them, which is obviously for him, or, he could sit in Steve’s recliner, avoiding the closeness entirely. It’s practically a no-brainer.

Of course, that decision could never be that easy.

“Eddie, are you going to come sit with us?” Ivy asks, being the first to notice him standing there.

Naturally, her saying that prompts Jasmine and Steve to both look over at him, with varying degrees of smiles on their faces.

“C’mere, honey, I saved you a spot,” Steve says, patting the seat beside him.

Well, so much for making the decision on his own.

“Here,” Eddie says as he sits down, handing Steve the throw he’d retrieved from his room. Part of him laments the loss; it really was a nice blanket, and not only because of lingering scent of Steve that clung to it.

“Oh, no,” Steve says, shuffling so that their legs are pressed together. “I wanted you to get it for you.” At Eddie’s perplexed expression, Steve smiles. “I know you get cold really easily, especially at night.”

Eddie feels his face flush at that. It’s true, of course, but knowing that Steve noticed it… well, it certainly doesn’t help with those pesky feelings. “Oh,” Eddie says after a minute, unsure what else he even can say. “We can share,” is what comes out of his stupid mouth.

Steve smiles, and it’s so damn soft that Eddie feels himself melting. “Well, if you insist,” he teases before pulling the blanket up over both of their laps.

“What is this movie?” Jasmine asks, and Eddie realizes with a start that there is, in fact, a movie playing on screen.

“It’s called Beetlejuice,” Steve replies. He glances at Eddie. “Have you ever seen it?”

Eddie shakes his head, ducking his head a little so that Steve doesn’t catch the embarrassment on his face. The truth is, he’d heard about the film, and while the premise sounds cute and relatively safe, he’s always been somewhat of a baby when it comes to any movie with any hint of scariness, and he definitely doesn’t want to show that card now. “No, I haven’t,” he mumbles, tugging at a loose thread hanging from the edge of the blanket across their laps.

“It’s pretty good,” Steve says. “Me and Robin went to see it in theaters when the twins were really little.” He drops his voice, and Eddie has to force himself not to lean closer than necessary to hear him. “It’s just comedy horror, most of it isn’t scary at all, so I think they’ll be okay.”

Eddie nods. “Great,” he says, his voice a bit weaker than he intends it to be.

He startles a little when he feels a hand on his knee. “You can hold my hand if you get scared, honey,” Steve whispers. He’s got a sneaky little grin on his face, and Eddie is grateful for the dimmed lighting in the room, which hopefully conceals his blushing cheeks.

“Oh- okay,” Eddie squeaks. His fingers twitch with the urge to do just that, but he knows that he shouldn’t. Instead, he laces his fingers together over his own lap, keeping his hands neatly to himself.

The pizza arrives just as the movie starts, so Steve pauses it while he jumps up to go get the food. Eddie goes to collect plates and napkins and drinks while Steve exchanges pleasantries and payment with the pizza delivery guy. They meet back at the coffee table around the same time, Steve smiling when he sees Eddie setting drinks out for everyone. “I was going to do that when I came back.”

Eddie shrugs, going back to his spot on the couch. “I got it,” he says with an easy smile back. He watches as Steve hands out pizza, half-expecting him to go back to his armchair rather than sit on the couch. He’s surprised when instead, Steve plops right back down beside him, accepting the corner of the blanket that Eddie hands out to him with a warm smile.

The movie starts out just fine, the humor aspect more than making up for any of the minor scares they utilize. Eddie finds most of his enjoyment in watching the twins watch the film at the other end of the sofa. Their faces are slack with intrigue nearly the whole time, and the few times they do get jump-scared is quickly followed by raucous giggles when the title character makes a joke of some sort. Eddie can feel his cheeks beginning to hurt from how much he’s smiling at them, but it feels nearly impossible to stop.

There aren't any particularly huge jump scares or anything over the course of the film, but as it nears the end, Eddie does wonder vaguely if the twins will struggle to sleep without thinking about all the weird distorted characters on the screen. They don’t seem particularly worried, though, and when the credits start rolling, Eddie is both disappointed and relieved. Disappointed, because he had managed to be good and spent the whole film with his hands to himself, which meant he didn’t get to touch Steve. And relieved, because even though he’s sad that the night is ending, he’s glad he won’t have to hold himself so tightly wound for much longer, finally able to escape to his room and just breathe.

They clean up their mess from dinner, sending the twins off to brush their teeth and get ready for bed while they collect the trash and leftovers from the coffee table. It’s an easy, domestic routine by now, one that Eddie feels he could repeat in his sleep. Once they’re finished, Eddie glances at Steve where he’s stood at the sink, rinsing out the cups they’d used.

“I’ll go, um… check that the twins are in bed,” he says, fiddling with one of his rings.

Steve glances at him and nods. “Okay. I’ll be there in just a minute.”

Eddie nods back before leaving the room, following the sound of the twins chattering and giggling in their bedroom. When he gets to the door, he pauses, watching as they try to sing the song from the end of the movie, although it’s immediately clear that neither of them know the words. He watches for a moment, just silently laughing at the scene in front of him, until Ivy attempts the floating scene by climbing on top of her bed.

“What’s going on in here?” Eddie asks smoothly, grinning when Ivy shrieks in surprise.

“Mommy, you scared me!” She squeals, flopping down on her bed and beaming up at him.

His heart does that same familiar squeeze when he hears her call him that name. “Sorry, honey. So, I take it you guys liked the movie?” he asks, going to sit on the end of Jasmine’s bed and smiling when she crawls into his lap.

“It was so funny!” Jasmine gushes, her hands flailing as she describes the scene where the Maitlands make their faces all long and distorted in order to prove that they can scare the humans away. Eddie nods as he listens to her talk, Ivy interrupting every few moments, as usual.

“-And then when Beetlejuice turned into a snake-” Ivy is saying when they hear a throat being cleared.

They all glance up to see Steve standing at their bedroom door, his arms crossed as his lips twitch. “Looks like a party in here,” he teases.

Eddie’s heart bursts with affection when the twins scramble off the bed to go to their father, dragging him into the room with them.

“Daddy! What was your favorite part of the movie?” Ivy asks, tugging him over to her bed.

He sits on the end of it, mirroring Eddie’s position on Jasmine’s bed. “Well, how about you two get into bed and I’ll tell you?” Steve bargains, quirking an eyebrow at both of them.

They’re quick to obey, scrambling under their covers and looking at him patiently, clearly curious about what he’ll say.

Steve smiles at them, sharing a little knowing look with Eddie. “Well, I think my favorite part… is probably either the waiting room scene… or maybe the song at the end.”

Eddie snorts at the irony. Steve gives him a curious look, but Eddie just gestures to the twins. “Do you guys wanna tell Daddy what you were doing when I came in?”

Jasmine looks mildly embarrassed, but Ivy, ever the shameless one, just lights up, sitting up in her bed quickly. “We were singin’ the song! Well… we don’t know all the words, but we’re gonna learn them!”

“Is that so?” Steve asks with a little chuckle. He reaches out, patting the bed. “Well, how about we work on that tomorrow, okay? We’ve had a busy day today, so I think we need some rest before we do all that.”

Ivy doesn’t look thrilled with that, but she nods in understanding. “Okay,” she agrees, snuggling back under her covers. She blinks her big hazel eyes up at Eddie then, her little hand reaching out. “Can I have my goodnight hug, please?”

Eddie melts. “Of course, honey,” he says, making his way over to her bed and crouching beside it. She’s quick to roll over and wrap her arms around his neck, snuggling in closely. He pets over her hair gently, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Goodnight, sweet girl. I love you,” he murmurs. He wishes, more than anything, that these were really his children. That he could scent them like their real mother would, that he could let them call him ‘Mommy’ without feeling guilty about it.

“Goodnight,” Ivy replies before pulling away, reaching for her father next.

Steve gives him a knowing smile as they sort of swap places, Eddie going over to Jasmine’s bed next to give her a hug and tuck her in. “Are you warm enough?” he asks, smoothing the blanket out and reaching a hand up to brush back an errant strand of hair.

Jasmine nods. “Mhm.” She holds her little arms out, and Eddie leans in to give her a hug, squeezing her tightly.

“Goodnight, honey. I love you. Sweet dreams,” he murmurs into her hair.

“Night, Mommy,” she whispers as she lays back down.

Steve finishes bidding each of them goodnight, and Eddie waits at the door as Steve gestures to the nightlight. “Nightlight or no nightlight?” he asks.

The girls agree that they would like the nightlight on, so Steve dutifully goes and flicks the button, blowing them kisses as he heads to the door. “Goodnight, girls. I love you, sleep tight,” Steve says.

“And don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Eddie adds from behind him, smirking when the girls giggle.

Steve rolls his eyes, but is clearly hiding a smile when he pulls the door shut behind them.

Before Eddie can panic about being left alone with him, Steve nods to the kitchen. “I think I could use a drink, what about you?”

Eddie would normally decline, but after the day he’s had, he can’t think of a reason to. “Sure,” he agrees before following Steve down the hall and into the kitchen. Eddie leans against the island counter as he watches Steve peruse the liquor options, wrinkling his nose up at the whiskey and bourbon he finds.

“You don’t really like whiskey, right?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder.

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t hate it, but yeah, it’s not my favorite.”

Steve hums, then opens the other cabinet, making a triumphant little noise at whatever he spots there. “Bingo. Red wine sound okay?” He asks, gesturing with the sleek bottle.

“Um.” Eddie swallows hard. Wine is a bit… romantic, he thinks. “Sure,” he says, despite himself. It’s fine. There’s nothing romantic about sharing a glass of wine with your boss after a long day of work.

Right?

Steve takes a sip of the wine first, smacking his lips as he considers it. “It’s a little on the sweeter side,” he says, glancing at Eddie. “Is that alright?”

Eddie nods. It would be even more alright if he was tasting it from Steve’s lips, his stupid, horny, traitorous mind posits. He ignores that thought entirely, smiling at Steve. “Yeah, that’s fine. I don’t mind a sweeter wine.”

“Great.” Steve nods and pours them each a generous glass, handing Eddie his before making his way back over to the sofa. “You wanna watch something else?” He asks, flopping back onto the same end of the sofa he’d been sitting on earlier.

Eddie hesitates. It isn’t that late, and it is a Saturday, afterall. “Would… would that be okay?” he asks, feeling like an idiot even as the words leave his mouth.

Steve gives him a look, his lips quivering like he wants to laugh but isn’t sure if he should. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t, honey.”

And that does make him feel a bit dumb, but then Steve is patting the sofa cushion beside him, and Eddie feels fine going to sit with him. He cradles his glass of wine close to his chest as Steve grabs the remote, clicking through the channels until he lands on something that apparently piques his interest.

“Oh, have you seen this?” Steve asks, turning the volume down a couple of notches and laying the remote back on the coffee table.

Eddie glances at the screen, frowning as he tries to recall if the opening scene is familiar in any way. “Um, I don’t recognize it. What is it?”

Steve laughs, for some reason, and Eddie looks over at him, confused. “It,” Steve answers.

“Yeah, what is it?” Eddie repeats, assuming that Steve had just misunderstood.

Steve rolls his eyes at that, but Eddie can tell he’s not making fun of him. “No, it’s - that’s the name,” Steve explains. “The movie is called It. You ever read any Stephen King?”

Eddie pauses. He has read some, actually, and the name does ring a bell, now that he gets what Steve was saying. The problem is that he actually avoided this one for a reason. Something about clowns… they just gave him the heebie-jeebies. “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of it,” he says carefully, trying not to betray his sudden nervousness.

Apparently he does well, because Steve just smiles, oblivious to the way Eddie is gulping his wine, like that’ll help. “We don’t have to stay up for the whole thing, but we can watch a bit of it, if you want?” Steve asks, taking a sip of his wine and tugging the blanket over their laps.

“Sure,” Eddie says with a nod. He can do that. He can just watch a bit of it, and then, when it gets scary, he can feign a yawn and escape to bed. Piece of cake.

Except that’s not what happens.

He actually gets sort of invested in the film, and after the first jumpscare with Pennywise in the sewer, he’s lulled into a false sense of security, thinking the film isn’t really all that bad at all. And to be honest, it probably isn’t. The problem exists solely in the fact that Tim Curry’s Pennywise is freaky as hell, and even though Eddie makes it through the whole film, he knows he’ll be hearing that creepy voice, and seeing those razor-sharp teeth in his dreams.

At one point, close to the end, Steve checks in on him with a squeeze of his knee. “You okay?” he whispers, his eyes glued to the television when Eddie glances over at him.

“Um, yeah,” Eddie murmurs back, twisting his fingers nervously. He’d finished his wine half an hour ago, and now his hands are fidgety and anxious as the movie draws to a close.

“Not too scared?” Steve asks, and this time, he’s smirking when Eddie looks over at him.

“No,” Eddie whispers, his heart thrumming with a new kind of nervousness.

Steve pats his knee, then withdraws his hand. “Good,” he says before he turns his attention back to the television. It gives Eddie whiplash, the way that Steve goes so quickly from this almost-flirting to being completely oblivious. Maybe this is why he’s going insane, he thinks absently.

The film ends with little fanfare, and Eddie doesn’t even notice until Steve leans forward, shutting the television off with a click of the remote. He sighs, standing up and stretching, his arms going high up over his head. Eddie tries not to stare at the sliver of skin the move exposes, but it’s nearly impossible, his eyes drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

“Ready for bed?” Steve asks, startling Eddie into nearly falling off the edge of the couch.

“Er, yeah,” Eddie replies, his face flushed with embarrassment.

Steve is definitely smirking at him. He grabs their wine glasses and goes to the sink, rinsing them out to be fully washed tomorrow. When he’s finished, he wipes his hands off on the towel by the sink, turning to face Eddie with a hesitant look on his face. “Do you want to…”

Eddie’s throat tightens at the half-question. He knows what he wants Steve to say, but he knows, before Steve even finishes his sentence, that it’s not going to be exactly what he wants. “To…?” Eddie prompts, raising his eyebrows at him.

It might just be the dim lighting, but Eddie could almost swear that Steve is blushing. “Can I scent you? Before we go to bed?” Steve rubs his arm awkwardly, as if he’s uncertain about what Eddie’s response will be.

And god, that makes Eddie feel like mush. “Of course,” he murmurs, already moving closer. “After all, we missed our morning shot,” he jokes, referring back to when Steve said that scenting him felt sort of addicting.

Steve shrugs, looking a little bashful as he reaches out for Eddie. “Yeah, well… I didn’t want to like… scent-mark you right before your date. Wouldn’t want to give them the wrong impression, you know,” he mumbles, sounding petulant as he tries to duck his head into Eddie’s shoulder.

Oh. Right.

“Steve,” Eddie says, his voice bordering on a laugh as he gently pushes him back a bit. “You know I wasn’t actually on a date, right?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Steve blinks. “What?”

Eddie nods, feeling brave as he reaches out, running a hand through Steve’s flopping hair. “I was just meeting up with a friend from high school.”

“Oh,” Steve says. Eddie notices a distinct shift in his scent, a sweetness that wasn’t previously there tinting the air. “So you aren’t…”

“Nope,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “Gareth is my best friend, but we’ve never been anything more than that.”

“That’s…” Steve hesitates, but then finishes his thought, though he looks a little ashamed. “That’s good,” he says, and yeah, he’s definitely blushing. “I- I just mean, like-” he says, stuttering all of a sudden. Eddie feels blessed to be seeing this so up-close, and for once, he feels like he might have the upper-hand between the two of them. “Like, it’s good that you’re seeing friends! Not that it’s good that it wasn’t a date, but-”

Eddie takes pity on him then. “Steve,” he murmurs.

Steve takes a breath, meeting his eyes again with an embarrassed smile. “Yeah?”

“It’s fine,” Eddie says. He wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders, tugging him in gently. “I would’ve told you if it was a real date,” he whispers.

He feels Steve’s arms wrap around his waist, and then that newly-familiar feeling of Steve tucking his face against his neck, breathing in deeply before scenting him. “You don’t have to,” Steve whispers back. “Your private life is none of my business.”

Eddie snorts out a laugh at that; he can’t help it. “Maybe not,” Eddie concedes. “But I wouldn’t keep something that big from you.”

Steve makes a soft noise, and Eddie could swear that he feels a brush of lips against his pulse. “Okay,” he allows, although Eddie can practically smell his desire to argue some more. “I appreciate that,” he says. “But… just know… you have a right to privacy, honey. Even though we’re… closer than most coworkers.”

Eddie definitely has to choke down another snort at that. Coworkers - it feels like the wrong word entirely for what they are, but he isn’t about to correct Steve. This thing is already so fragile, he couldn’t possibly bear to actually ruin it for real.

Instead of laughing, or speaking his mind, he tilts his head, allowing himself to be scented and held, pretending in some far corner of his mind that he’s loved by this man. This man, who never ceases to take care of him, to do everything he can to be the best father and partner a person could wish for. And even if he’ll never have that love reciprocated, Eddie will always have the comfort of knowing that Steve is the easiest person to love, and the most deserving of it.

“Can you…” Steve whispers, his breath ghosting over Eddie’s neck and making him shiver.

“What?” Eddie asks, just as softly.

Steve shifts, just a little, and Eddie realizes what he wants right before he asks. “Will you scent me, too?”

Eddie knows for a fact that he’s melting with affection as he nods, nosing against one side of Steve’s throat thoroughly before tilting his head and doing the same to the opposite side. “Good?” he asks softly when he feels that he’s done a thorough job.

“Yes,” Steve says with a sigh. “You know… you can scent me every time,” he says, pulling away slightly so he can look Eddie in the eyes. “You don’t have to wait for me to ask.”

Eddie smiles, but glances down, feeling a little embarrassed. It’s like Steve can just read his mind, sometimes. “But you might not want that every time,” he says, trying to sound reasonable and not like he’s just looking for an excuse not to get any closer than they already are.

There’s a gentle brush against his chin, and Eddie looks up when Steve’s fingers guide him to. “I’ll always want it, Eds,” he whispers. His gaze flicks down to Eddie’s lips, and Eddie feels like he might actually combust at the way his eyes flash.

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, trying to control his breathing, and his scent. “If you’re sure you’re okay with it. And that it won’t bother the girls, for you to smell like me.”

That seems to catch Steve’s attention, and Eddie feels a cocktail of confused and relieved when his gaze is dragged away from Eddie’s mouth. Steve furrows his eyebrows, looking confused himself as he says, “I don’t think they’d mind at all.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, allowing himself to pull out of Steve’s grip, slowly but surely. “I know you’ve been scenting me for a while now, but I don’t want them to feel like…” He wants to say, “I don’t want them to feel like you’re trying to replace their Mom with me,” but he doesn’t know how to say it tactfully. Instead, he stops there, watching Steve carefully for any indication that he understands.

Steve just looks more confused, if anything. “Honey, they love you. I mean,” he laughs a little, shaking his head. “Eddie, I’ve heard them call you “Mommy” several times now. I don’t think you scenting me would be the end of the world,” he says.

Eddie’s stomach clenches, and he knows his scent must go sour with the sudden anxiety, because Steve’s nose crinkles. “Oh… you heard that?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t look bothered at all. “I heard both of them say it today at the baby shower. And… and I know you probably told them not to call you that, but Eddie…” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t mind it.”

Eddie balks at him. “You don’t… mind it?” he repeats, baffled. “You don’t mind that your children refer to me as their mom, even though I’m not?”

Steve rolls his eyes, his shoulders sagging a little, like the conversation is exhausting him. “Eddie, no,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t mind that they’re calling you that, and like I’ve told you before, you are the closest thing they have to a mom. If they want to call you that…” Steve shrugs. “It’s fine with me.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. He’s not sure what to make of that. It doesn’t feel normal for an alpha to want their children to call someone who isn’t their mate by such a title, but before he can question his sincerity some more, Steve is speaking again.

“In fact,” he says, standing up a little straighter, like he’s just had a great idea. “I think that you should start scenting them, too.”

Eddie blinks. “What?”

Steve shrugs. “I scent them before school, Robin scents them every time she sees them, but they’ve never really had an omega around to scent them.” He nods at Eddie. “Until now.”

“But…” Eddie trails off. He needs to stop using the twins’ clearly absent mother as an excuse to not be close to his - Steve’s - children. Clearly Steve and the twins themselves don’t have a problem with it, so Eddie maybe needs to stop feeling so guilty about it all the time. “Are you sure they’d be okay with that?” he asks anyway, twisting the rings on his fingers.

Steve smiles at him, reaching out and twisting the rings back to their proper position. “Yeah, honey, I’m pretty sure. Ivy asked me about it, like, a week after I started scenting you. I think it made her jealous,” he says with a laugh.

And oh, that makes Eddie’s heart feel so full. “Okay,” he mumbles. “I’ll… I’ll ask them if they’re okay with that in the morning.”

“Sure,” Steve says with a nod. “Oh, that reminds me, do you have plans tomorrow?”

Eddie shakes his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. In the months that he’s worked for Steve, he’s never had plans on a weekend, except for yesterday morning. And yet, Steve still asks, almost every time. “Nope. Figured I’d just hang out here, if that’s okay.”

Steve lights up at that, just a little. “Of course it’s okay. The twins will be so excited that they get to spend the day with you,” he says.

Eddie smiles right back at him. “Same. Maybe we could do something tomorrow?”

“Sure. We can figure something out in the morning,” Steve replies, and Eddie recognizes that for the cue it is. But then, Steve turns back to him, giving him a soft smile. “Are you okay, though? The movie didn’t scare you too badly, did it?”

Damn. Eddie had almost forgotten all about the creepy fucking clown. “Er…” Eddie says, trailing off. When he sees the concerned look on Steve’s face, he’s quick to shake his head. “I- yeah, I’m fine.” He lies. He’ll probably be sleeping with one eye open tonight, to be honest.

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, his eyebrows crinkling up in worry. “You can… you know, if you’re scared, you could…” Steve pauses, gesturing to his bedroom awkwardly.

It takes Eddie a second to get it. And when he does, his whole body flushes in embarrassment. Surely Steve isn’t actually offering- “Um, what?” Eddie asks, suddenly desperate for clarification.

Steve blushes, scratching his neck awkwardly. “You could… come sleep in my room. If you want.”

Eddie blinks at him.

“Um.”

“You don’t have to!” Steve says quickly, and Eddie notices how he scoots half a step away, putting some-much needed space in between them. It gives Eddie a little room to breathe, at least. “But just, like… the offer is there, if you need it. Okay?”

Eddie nods slowly. His brain isn’t moving quickly enough for the turns this conversation has taken, so all he can manage to say is a stuttered, “O-okay. Um… I’m gonna…” he takes a step backwards, in the direction of his own bedroom.

He pretends he doesn’t notice the slightly hurt look on Steve’s face.

“Okay,” Steve says, resigned. “Goodnight, Eds. Um… sleep tight.”

Eddie gives him a weak smile. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” he finishes the little phrase, and is rewarded with a very cute smile mirrored on Steve’s face.

He gives an awkward little wave before making his way down the hall to his bedroom, growing increasingly wary of the lack of light in the apartment as he approaches his room. Like the scaredy cat that he is, he flicks his overhead light on immediately as he walks into his room, scanning every corner and crevice for anything suspicious. Content that he is well and truly alone in his room, he flicks the light off, all but jumping into his bed as soon as the lights are out.

It’s not like he never watches scary movies.

He does.

Just… usually he only watches them when he knows someone will be around to… comfort him, if he happens to get scared. Back when he was younger, that had been Wayne’s job, and bless his uncle’s heart - the man had spent many a night sleeping in the recliner so that Eddie could have the pull-out couch, terrified of being left in his own room by himself. Things had changed when Eddie and Henry started courting, but Henry didn’t usually like to deal with him after a horror movie. Eddie remembers being called “needy” and “childish” - both of which were perfectly true, just not very helpful, in the grand scheme of things.

Eddie forces himself to close his eyes, trying desperately to relax and stay calm, despite the images that dance in his head. Sharp teeth, long crooked fingers, a smile that’s just not quite right-

Was that a noise?

If he wasn’t so petrified, he’d probably laugh at himself for how ridiculous he’s being. Instead, he lays stock-still, his eyes just barely peeking open so that he can survey the room around him once more. He realizes how absurd he probably seems, and part of him is grateful that there isn’t anyone around to see this side of him. The bigger part of him, though… that part wishes he’d taken Steve up on his offer.

It’s not like it would be weird. Well… not in a bad way, at least. It would probably just be a little awkward, but surely it wouldn’t be that bad. And it’s not like Steve hadn’t offered…

That, and the lingering feeling that something is watching him from the closet, makes Eddie’s decision for him. He throws his covers off himself, making his way out of his room as quickly and quietly as possible. He closes the door behind himself, his socked feet aiding in his attempt to sneak through the apartment.

There’s a soft light streaming underneath Steve’s bedroom door, so Eddie doesn’t feel quite as terrible when he knocks lightly before pushing it open.

“Steve?” He whispers, peeking around the door.

“Eddie? Are you okay?” Steve’s concerned voice meets him, and Eddie takes that as his invitation, slipping through the doorway quietly. Steve is sitting up in his bed, a book in his lap, the lamp on his bedside table shining dimly. He’s also wearing glasses, something Eddie has never seen him wear before, although they’re actually quite a good look. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern when Eddie meets his gaze, but something in Eddie’s face must settle some of that, because it smooths out as he speaks. “Oh, honey. C’mere.”

“I’m not bothering you, am I?” Eddie asks before he even dares move closer to the bed. “I don’t want to be annoying, I just-“

Steve interrupts him with a shake of his head. “No, no. Come here, I told you that you can sleep in here.”

Eddie shuffles over to the empty side of the bed, feeling a bit like a little kid. “I feel kind of ridiculous,” he admits through a mumble. “I’m twenty-six, you know.”

“I know,” Steve says, giving him a sweet smile as he lifts up the covers. “You can be twenty-six and still be afraid of things, you know.”

Eddie huffs as he climbs into bed beside Steve, his movements a little stiff and uncertain. “Yeah, well you certainly don’t seem scared,” he argues petulantly.

Steve grins at him, patting his knee before his hand returns to his book. “I’m not twenty-six,” Steve jokes. Eddie pouts, and something about his demeanor gets Steve’s attention. “I am scared of things, Ed.”

“Yeah?” Eddie murmurs, turning over to lay on his side, looking up at Steve with wide, curious eyes. This feels important, like sharing secrets at a sleepover. “Like what?”

Steve makes a considering noise, and Eddie watches as he puts his book away on the nightstand. Eddie doesn’t catch the title of it, but vows to check in the morning, just out of curiosity. “Well,” Steve finally says, staring seemingly at nothing as he talks. “I’m scared of spiders. They gross me out, and I despise dealing with them when they’re in my house.”

Eddie snickers at that. “Everyone’s afraid of spiders,” he argues.

“Well, there’s still enough arachnophobia to go around, evidently,” Steve replies dryly. He sits for a moment, twiddling his thumbs as he thinks. His gaze is unfocused, like he’s deep in thought. “I’m scared of something bad happening to the people I care about,” he whispers.

Eddie’s throat tightens when Steve looks down at him, blinking meaningfully. “Yeah,” Eddie manages, twiddling with a loose string on the comforter. “I get that.”

The mattress dips and creaks as Steve twists to flick off his lamp and rolls over on his side to face Eddie. There’s just enough soft moonlight filtering in through the curtains for Eddie to make out the shape of Steve’s eyes and the slant of his nose. He breathes slowly and quietly across the distance between them, and Eddie’s eyes track helplessly down to study Steve’s lips.

“Eddie,” Steve murmurs.

“Yeah?” Eddie breathes back. He’s obsessed with the way Steve’s mouth forms words in the dark, his teeth glinting beautifully every time the moonlight catches them.

Eddie feels a gentle hand rest on his waist, and he tries not to jump at the contact. “Are you still scared?” Steve murmurs, and Eddie’s not sure, but he thinks that maybe Steve has shifted closer.

“Not anymore,” Eddie whispers. He’s not sure that they’re still talking about the movie.

Steve smiles at him, or at least in the dark that’s what it appears like, and Eddie carefully nudges himself forward as well. It wouldn’t hurt anything, surely, for them to be close to each other. And if they happened to get even closer, surely that wouldn’t hurt anybody, since-

Their noses brush.

Eddie draws in a sharp breath, his hand instinctively gripping the covers in a tight fist. If he moved just a centimeter closer, they’d be kissing.

“Eddie,” Steve breathes, his voice broken and soft. Eddie stills, preparing himself for the inevitable let down and disappointment.

That’s not what happens.

Instead, Steve shifts somehow even closer, the hand on Eddie’s waist skating up to cup his jaw. “I need you to tell me no if you don’t want this,” Steve whispers.

Eddie is silent, staring at Steve through wide eyes. It’s wrong, Eddie is vaguely aware of that, but here, in the dark, it feels like it could be okay. It could be okay for them to kiss, just as long as these feelings stay tucked away in this little pocket of darkness and silence.

Even if it isn’t okay, a distant part of Eddie’s brain reminds him, he’s tired of fighting it. He’s tired of holding himself back every time he wants Steve, of pretending that he doesn’t feel something for him. And even if this is just about sex for Steve, Eddie would give him that, if it meant he got to have him in some way.

Steve is still watching him, clearly waiting for some kind of response. Eddie clears his throat and allows his hand to reach out for Steve, clutching the front of his t-shirt with ease. “I’m not going to tell you no,” Eddie says quietly. “Want this too bad,” he mumbles.

“You’re sure?” Steve whispers. “I know you said-“

“I know,” Eddie interrupts. “I… I know what I said. But…” he braces himself for what he’s about to say. He knows it’s desperate, and ridiculous, but at this point, he would do just about anything to have Steve. “It… it’ll be kind of like scenting, right? So… it’s fine.”

Even in the darkness of the room, Eddie can make out the incredulity that paints Steve’s expression. “Like scenting…” Steve trails off.

Eddie gets a horrible idea. It almost makes him sick, to think about what he’s about to say to Steve right now, the lie he’s about to let slip. But part of him knows that he won’t be able to handle it if Steve’s the one who says it first, so sparing himself that pain might be the only way he can handle this at all.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Eddie murmurs.

Steve stills.

Eddie watches him, his heart racing as he waits for any indication that Steve will argue with him, or question him, or anything that would prove that he wants it to mean something.

“Oh,” he says, eventually. Eddie holds his breath. “If you’re sure,” Steve whispers, his hand cradling Eddie’s cheek softly.

Eddie’s heart shrivels up in his chest, any hope he had left going right along with it. “I’m sure,” Eddie lies again. He can’t seem to stop lying.

Steve shifts just a bit closer, brushing their noses together. “Okay,” Steve whispers.

That’s all the warning Eddie gets before Steve is pressing his mouth to Eddie’s. It’s tentative, and somehow even more chaste than that fleeting kiss Eddie had stolen that first time. It still leaves Eddie breathless and wanting, his hand moving to clutch at the front of Steve’s shirt instead of the sheets beneath them. He can feel Steve’s heartbeat through the thin cotton, erratic and comforting underneath Eddie’s fingertips.

Steve doesn’t drag it out. It’s probably less than a minute after kissing him that he pulls away from Eddie, his expression unreadable. Eddie licks his lips without thinking, and Steve’s eyes track the movement. “Fuck,” he whispers.

Eddie’s heart, or the husk left in its place, sinks in his chest. He can’t bear the thought of disappointing Steve, but apparently, somehow he has. “What?” Eddie whispers back, afraid to raise his voice.

Steve closes his eyes, sighing deeply. “We shouldn’t have…” Eddie feels like he might cry. “I’m just going to want to do that even more now.” His voice is strained, distraught.

And, well. Eddie’s only human. And that confirmation of being desired, even if it’s just carnal, makes his heart sing. “Well…” Eddie trails off. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

Steve opens his eyes, but he looks sad when he meets Eddie’s gaze. “I know.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “But you were right… it’s really not a good idea. I won’t… I won’t corner you like this again, Eddie. I promise.”

Eddie feels like he has whiplash from all the back and forth. Every time he thinks he’s got Steve and his feelings figured out, he goes in the opposite direction again. It’s starting to make his head hurt. “Oh…” Eddie finally manages to choke out. “Okay.”

He hesitates. They’re still so close, and Eddie could probably just move back, but it no longer even feels appropriate to be in the same bed. He shifts, trying to subtly slide out from under the covers, but a gentle grip on his wrist stops him.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks, his eyes wide and hurt.

“Oh… I was just going to… I figured you’d probably want me to sleep in my own room,” Eddie explains, trying hard not to make eye contact.

Steve sits up with him, ducking his head to force him to meet his gaze. “Of course not. I don’t think we should let ourselves be so reckless anymore with…well, anyway.” He shakes his head, but his gaze comes right back to Eddie’s. ”I still want you to sleep in here.”

Eddie sighs, conflicted. As much as he wants to be close to Steve, and as much as he enjoys being wrapped up in the alpha’s scent like this, he’s just not sure his heart can take anymore. “Steve…” he starts, unsure of what he can even say.

“I promise I won’t touch you,” Steve says, his voice small. When Eddie blinks over at him, Steve is looking down at his hands, and Eddie can smell the shame rolling off of him.

That makes the decision for him.

Carefully, Eddie resettles, laying back on the pillows once again. He looks up at Steve, giving him a weak smile. “I’ll stay,” he murmurs, even as his mind is racing to a decision that he doesn’t feel he’s brave enough to make.

Steve lays beside him, keeping that promised distance between them. His hand twitches on the bed between them, as if he wants to reach out, and Eddie wishes like hell that he would. But if all this emotional motion sickness has taught him anything, it’s that he and Steve just want different things.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve whispers into the dark. “Sweet dreams.”

Eddie swallows hard. God, he’s going to miss him.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington and eddie munson #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie munson #babysitter eddie munson #single dad steve harrington #alpha beta omega dynamics #finally safe for me to fall #omegaverse #original harrington children #abo dynamics

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ur-riddikulus · 3 years

Text

You’re Worth It (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You are the resident therapist for the Avengers and Steve asks you for a favor. He wants you to have a therapy session with Bucky. Then you find out that Bucky wasn’t exactly aware of this plan.

Warnings: some cursing, Bucky’s angsty past, a couple small sexual innuendo. Also like a ton of angst but I promise that it does get better lol.

A/N: This is my first fanfic on here. I posted some Harry Potter ones before this, but I reread them and thought I could do better. So, here we are! Thank you for reading and if you want this to turn into more parts, I can totally do that. <3

You had been in your office preparing for your next patient when Steve walked in.

“Hey, Dr. Y/L/N, can I ask you for a favor?” He asked, putting his hands in a praying motion.

“Yeah, absolutely! I do have a patient soon, though.” You replied. You were glad to help, Steve is a great patient and has been improving impressively. So well, in fact, you didn’t know if he would even need to see you much longer.

“Do you know Bucky Barnes? He’s an old pal of mine. He has been against going to therapy for a long time, but you’ve helped me so much and Bucky needs some help too I think. Plus, he saw you around the tower and thought you were cute.” Steve says.

You blushed at that last part, silently wishing you didn’t. You had a rule against dating any patient or anyone in the tower, since it would just be awkward when you inevitably break up. Every relationship you’ve ever been in hasn’t lasted long, considering you’ve never been able to find someone you truly liked.

“Yeah, of course I know Bucky. You don’t shut up about him during your therapy sessions and I’ve seen him sulking around the tower myself. I would love to help him, but like I said, I have another patient soon. I will only have therapy with him if it’s his choice though. And I think he’s absolutely gorgeous but I have a rule against dating anyone who lives or works in the Tower.” You explained.

You looked at the time, Tony Stark, your next patient, would be here any minute. You were the sole therapist for Avengers Tower. There maybe should have been another one, but Tony had one session with you and said that you were the best he’s ever had and no one would ever dare be a therapist and step into his tower again. He even gave you the title of ‘Chief of Mental Health’ despite being literally the only person in that department.

Steve must have noticed you checking your watch, because he said ,”Oh, and I bribed Tony to change his appointment and give it to Bucky, so you kind of have no choice.”

You looked up, “What? Who knew that Mr. Captain America himself was a cunning little bitch.” You joked, shaking your head. You and Steve, hell, you and everyone in the tower had that kind of relationship. And, he knew you swore like a sailor, so he even ignored it sometimes.

At that moment, Bucky walked in. He looked so handsome with his shoulder-length hair and baby blue eyes. He even looked a little nervous. Well, that’s not surprising, you thought. Everyone, even you, was a tad nervous on the first session.

Steve put up one finger and said, “Let me talk to Buck alone for one moment.” You nodded and he walked Bucky out to the hallway and shut your door. You heard whispers being exchanged and was a little confused but whatever, you thought. You were sure he’s just giving Bucky encouragement.

You went over and sat down on your grey seat and picked up your chamomile tea. That was probably your favorite part of being a therapist, getting to sit down in comfy chairs all day with your tea. Besides helping people of course.

The door opened once again, with Bucky and Steve reappearing. “Thanks for doing this again, Dr. Y/L/N! Bucky will love you.” Steve said, patting Bucky on the back. You smiled and he exited, leaving only a nervous-looking Bucky standing there.

“Why don’t you come over and sit on the comfortable couch across from me, Bucky?” You motion, pointing over to the couch across from your current chair. He nods and goes to the couch. Well, at least he looks a bit more comfortable, you think to yourself.

“So, what do you want to talk about? Anything is on the table.” You say. You’ve found that not going straight to the tough topics help patients build their trust with you more.

“Well, doll, how about you tell me about yourself first.” He says, getting a bit more confident now. Doll? That’s an odd name to call your therapist. But whatever, you’re sure they used it a lot in the old days. Letting it slide, you try to answer his question.

“Well, I was born and raised here in New York City. I got my PhD. in psychology from NYU and I have an apartment in Brooklyn. I got this job after only one session with Tony Stark and now I am the therapist for the Avengers.” Sure, it was a lot of work, but you absolutely loved your job. Helping the heroes who risk their life to save yours and everyone else’s was the least you could do, you thought.

Bucky nodded and said, “I’m from Brooklyn. Looks much different now than it did when I lived there though. A PhD.? Damn doll, you must be super smart.”

You smiled at his compliment. “Thank you. It wasn’t easy, but it was definitely worth all the late nights studying.”

“So, anything else you want to know about me before we get started?” You asked, getting your notebook to prepare to write notes about Bucky and how to best help him.

“Get started? Damn, doll. I was thinking we could grab a coffee before we ‘get started.’ But it’s good with me, I guess the girls roll a little different in this time than the 40′s.” Bucky says, chuckling to himself.

You were in the middle of getting to the correct page in the notebook but paused when you heard what he said. What did he think you meant when you said ‘get started’? It sounded very different from your meaning. And getting coffee? It almost sounded like he thought this was a date? You shook your head at that thought. No way could he possibly be that confused. And Steve said he thought you were cute, but you seriously doubted that the Bucky Barnes would even consider going on a date with you. So no, it definitely couldn’t be that. But whatever he thought this was, there was obviously a miscommunication that you had to clear up.

“Uh, Bucky? I think you must be confused. Steve told me that he convinced you to have a therapy session with me this afternoon. What did you think this was?” You ask, a little scared of the answer.

At hearing this, Bucky seemed very confused. “What do you mean, Steve told me that we were meeting here before going out on our date?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused. What does he mean by ‘our date’?

“Uh, Steve never said to me that we were going on a date. He told me that he convinced you to have a therapy session with me...” You said, shaking your head in confusion. This made no sense, what was going on?

Apparently that was the conclusion Bucky just got to as well, because he looked up, a little embarrassed and said, “I’m so sorry. Steve told me that you wanted to go on a date with me and that we were going to meet in your office before going out. I never would have agreed to this if I knew what he was really doing. I’m just going to leave, I’m so sorry for wasting your time.” Bucky raced his hand through his long hair and stood up, walking to the door.

At first, you were a little stunned. The Steve you knew, the world knew, would never pull a trick on anyone, especially his best friend. You knew him enough through your sessions to know that he would only do this if he absolutely had to. Which means he must be desperate for his friend to get the mental help he needed. Also, Bucky was just so damn cute and you have had the biggest crush on him ever since you went to the Captain America exhibit in the local museum for a school trip. You always saw him in the pictures with Steve, his heart-stopping smile still doing wonders on you despite the worn black and white photo.

So, you jumped up right when his hand touched the door handle to leave and probably never see you again. “W-Wait!” You said, hating your stutter but just cringed and kept going when you saw him turn around curiously. “While you’re here you might as well just talk to me. If you hate it, you never have to see me again and can just ignore me in the halls. But, if this session does help you, maybe we can schedule a bit more and see where it goes. I really think I can help you, Bucky.” After you finish your awkward speech, you just smiled and waited for his definite and irreversible no. Well, at least you got the chance to help him, you thought.

He just sighed and shrugged saying, “Well, I’m already here I guess. But are you sure this could end at any time and that you even want to help me after my dumb friend tricked me into embarrassing myself?”

You smiled and that last part and smiled, just grateful for the opportunity to help someone so burdened and has done so much for the world.

Bucky walked back over the his chair and said, “So, Doc, how do we start this?”

You grabbed your notebook again and turned to the right page again. “This is your session, it can start with however you want. But it might help to start from the beginning. How did you feel when you got drafted into a World War when you were only 18?”

He looked deep in thought and said, “Wow, no one ever asked me that.” He sighed before adding, “Of course it was my duty to fight and all that, but I was angry at the world for forcing kids who just barely turned adults to fight their wars for them. I knew it was going to be an adventure, but honestly I was scared shitless, doll.”

You nod, your empathy for him skyrocketing even though you guys just started.

And that’s how your bi-weekly sessions with Bucky would usually go. You guys talked about a whole manner of things, like his past in the 1940′s, his brainwashing with HYDRA, Steve saving him, and his nightmares from everything included. You two were closer than you normally let yourself get to patients. You didn’t know if it was because of everything he had gone through, or maybe even that you finally got to talk and help the Avenger who needed you most, but you honestly didn’t care. Your sessions with him really seemed to help him and now he hasn’t had a nightmare in over 2 months. Bucky seemed a lot happier and waved and talked to you in the halls. Steve even said that he hasn’t seen Bucky like this since the 40′s. You thought that with all things considered, he had a ton of improvement. You two had only been meeting for about 6 months and his progress was truly great;

You tried to forget that in your first meeting he thought you were going on a date and even apparently called you pretty. You knew that nothing romantic should ever come out of your patient and therapist relationship since it was obviously wrong. Every therapist knew that under no circumstances should you date your patient. It would always hurt the patient’s mental health even more and that was the opposite of your job. You suppose it could technically happen if you stopped being his personal therapist but it wouldn’t be worth it. All of his hard work would have been for nothing.

But you couldn’t help but think what if? What if it ended up working out? What if he got another therapist and you could date him? What if he was the one? But no, you were getting ahead of yourself, you thought. Bucky was great and handsome and so, so perfect. He was honestly everything you wanted in a partner. And still, you couldn’t take the leap. If it didn’t work out and you were possibly the reason his mental health got worse you could never forgive yourself. So every appointment with him you just smiled and tried to ignore that pressing need, even though you were beating yourself up for either being a coward or for being so selfish that you wanted to take that chance.

One day you were in the middle of researching new ways to help a client’s recent mental health issue and trying to (and failing) ignore a certain issue when Bucky walked in with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a nervous look on his face. You stood up, very confused but nonetheless making yourself known.

“Uh, Y/N? Could I maybe talk to you for a minute?” He asked. You’ve never seen him dressed so well. Normally he just wore either workout clothes or sweatpants. You two even often joked together that he owned no normal clothes.

“Yeah of course. I’m sorry I didn’t know we had a session today.” You said, cursing yourself for making such a mistake. Usually you were pretty good with schedules, even though working with the entire compound was a bit much to remember.

“Oh, we don’t. I just wanted to ask you a question.” Bucky said, biting his lip. A nervous tick that you soon discovered in one of your early sessions together.

“Sure, ask away.” You replied. You were getting a little worried. Surely he didn’t want to end your appointments together, right? Did you do something wrong?

“First of all, these are for you.” He said nervously as he handed you the flowers. You smiled, surprised that he remembered you telling him your that your favorite was y/f/f while complaining that the local florist didn’t have them during one of your bi-weekly meetings. “Thank you, these are absolutely beautiful. I love them.” You smiled and walked over to a window ledge with a vase on it and put them in, admiring how they looked in the sunlight.

When you were finished admiring them you walked back over to Bucky. “Thank you again, they really are beautiful. I don’t even remember the last time someone was so nice and got flowers for me.” You said and hugged him. You knew he wasn’t that great with personal touch but surprised you when he hugged you back pretty quickly. For a moment you just focused on being in his arms but then soon thought of how inappropriate it would look to an outsider and reluctantly pulled away.

“So, what did you want to ask? Is everything okay?” You ask, quickly remembering that something could be wrong with him.

“Yeah, of course everything is fine. You truly are a great therapist, Y/N. You’ve got a gift.” Bucky said. You blushed at his words and hated that your color would give away your inappropriate feelings possibly. His words did calm you down though. But if it wasn’t about therapy, then what else could it be about?

Feeling your blush go down finally, you nodded and urged him to go on, now too curious to wait it felt like.

He sighed and nervously ran his hand through his hair. “You have to promise me that if this goes wrong, our relationship won’t be ruined. It’s too important for me to ruin by being an idiot.” You immediately promised. Normally you would be cautious about such a thing but you have never trusted anyone this quickly and this much with Bucky.

After he saw your quick agreement, he went on. “So, these past couple weeks, well since we’ve started meeting actually, I was interested in you. I was never going to act on it in a million years but you’ve helped me so much and I think we could really be great together. And Steve might have noticed me staring at you and telling me I should do something about it.” He chuckled. “So, want to go on a real date? I would go the whole 9 yards, nice restaurant and everything. But I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do and know that our relationship isn’t necessarily the easiest to become romantic. I just think you're worth it, doll. You're worth all of it.” He stopped and bit his lip again, waiting for your response.

Your heart soared when you heard his speech. No one had every made you feel this way. You were about to say yes, so close in fact, but then you remembered the real truth. You are his therapist, his doctor, his advocate. That was special and meant something to you. You knew he wanted this but it was your responsibility to make the hard choice, to do what you honestly hated to do but thought was right.

“No, Buck. I’m sorry but I can’t. I just think it could ruin all your hard work and that’s the last thing that I want to do. It just shouldn’t be risked.” You said. Telling him that felt like vomit was coming up and you felt even worse when you saw him look dejected and lose his smile so quickly because of you.

You moved your arm to touch his and try to support him the best you could within your boundaries but he saw you trying to do it and moved before you could touch him. And that really hurt.

You opened your mouth to try and say that you wanted to say yes, that it wasn’t him and just your job but he put up his hand to stop you and said,”No, I shouldn't have asked, I’m sorry.” before walking out.

After the door shut you just closed your mouth in surprise of how this could all go so wrong before falling on the ground and just sobbing. You were hyperventilating soon and snot was going everywhere but you just didn’t care. You were the therapist, the one who knew all the mental health tips and tricks but you were too broken to think logically and it felt good to just let yourself cry.

This stayed the same for two straight weeks. Bucky rescheduled every meeting and put himself into more missions, especially the more dangerous ones. You would cry yourself to sleep nearly every night and by the morning, your eyes were really puffy and swollen from the night before. Everyone in the tower knew something was going wrong and you could feel their stares of sympathy and worry. You felt terrible but what felt even worse was that you weren’t even speaking with Bucky anymore. And as bad as you felt, you couldn’t help but be even more worried for him. You were prepared to just wallow in your own self-pity and cry for the nth time when Steve knocked on the door and walked in when you were in your office, just drinking chamomile tea and looking at the flowers Bucky got you.

“Hey Doc, how’s it going?” He asked, sitting down and looking worried. You just looked up at him and decided to finally cut the shit and get right to what you were worried about. “Steve, how’s Bucky? And tell me the truth, I’ll find out eventually.” Steve sighed and said, “Honestly he’s not doing great. He looks like crap and is throws himself into missions. Bucky also keeps taking stupid risks that could leave him wounded or even worse. We’ve all spoken with him and he just ignores it. I think the only thing that would really fix him is talking with you. he’s never been like this before, I just don’t know what to do.”

You knew that he would probably tell you the last part, that he feels out of control. Control issues was what you most talked about with Steve during your sessions. Not that you could blame him, you would definitely have them too after everything he has gone through. But that could be discussed in your future sessions with him. Right now, you just wished everything was back to normal.

You nodded sadly, even more worried for him now. But Steve talking to you changed something. You needed to talk to Bucky. And right now. Your fear of rejection was high and you knew there was a fairly high chance that he was too hurt to trust you and that he would probably say no but you didn’t care. Even if he rejected you, you didn’t care. As long as he would be better and your relationship went back to normal, you could live with it. Even if it would take a long time to get better after this, he would be worth it.

So you just looked up, your mind set on what you had to do. “Where is he? I need to find him right now.”

Steve looked up surprised and said, “Uh, in his room I think. He just signed up for another hard mission and we asked him not to but he insisted. He’s probably getting ready since he will have to leave soon.”

After hearing this, you jumped up frantically while yelling “Thank you so much Steve!” as you ran out, not even caring to stop the door from slamming.

Now, even though you worked in a tower full of superheroes, you were only the therapist and still haven’t ran in a while. So you ran and ignored all the stares of the workers and Avengers. When you finally got there, you were out of breath and breathing hard. But still, you worked through your mini heart attack and knock on the door, still frantic.

You heard some rustling behind the door and a few mumbled curse words when he began saying loudly, “Steve, I’m fine. I’m going on that mission whether you think I should or no-” Bucky opened the door and once he saw you, a probably sweaty, red, and gross you, finished with a confused “-not?”

You put up one finger to signal for him to give you a moment to catch your breath. After that, you joked, “Guess I need to workout more.”

“No, I think you look great. Uh, n-not that my opinion matters or anything. If you think you need to work out then that’s what you should do.” He said, nervously stuttering but nodding at his final sentence like by catching it he saved himself from saying something wrong.

He cleared his throat before continuing. “So, how can I help you? I do have to leave on a mission soon though.”

It broke your heart how formally he was speaking, almost like you were complete strangers.

Maybe you should go, you thought. But no, you had to. Bucky was worth the embarrassment you could possibly face, whether you two were going to date or not. Forcing yourself to remember that, you steeled yourself and said, “I’m sorry Bucky, about everything I said. That date sounded amazing, it really did. I wanted to go and I still do. I was just worried about how inappropriate it would be for a therapist to date their patient. I didn’t want your mental health to backtrack and I honestly thought that I was doing the right thing. But I miss you, Buck. I miss you terribly. And you're worth all of the risks to me, you outweigh them all. So please don’t go on that mission, let someone else take the dumb risks. From what I’ve heard you have taken enough for a while. Please, just stay with me and we can talk?” You looked up at him pleadingly and saw him pull out his phone before shutting the door in your face.

That shut door hurt you, but you were prepared for it and sighed. It was too good to be true, you guessed. The fairytale ending, the white picket fence, the handsome husband. You turned around, prepared to walk away with the thought of going back to your apartment and drowning your sorrows in chamomile tea and tissues when you heard the door open behind you and felt a hand grab yours to turn you around.

And there was Bucky, smiling like an absolute idiot. And at first you thought that he was making fun of you, but even then you still thought he looked handsome with that smile. “Sam’s in. He’ll take the mission for me.” He said.

“What?” was all you could muster. You had no idea what he was talking about it sounded almost like... That’s when you heard Sam on speaker phone, “Yep, that’s right sweetheart. I’m gonna do the dumb mission. Kiss Bucky real good for me, sucks I can’t be there to do it myself.” Then you heard Sam make a bunch of kissy noises and that’s when Bucky said, “Enough of him.” And ended the call. Then he grabbed your hand once more and shut the door behind you. He backed you against his door with him so close to you that your chest was touching his.

You were still in shock of your luck when Bucky leaned in and kissed you. You were a little shocked but soon kissed him back, and hard. It was like you were underwater and he was the oxygen. The kiss soon turned rougher and you did not mind at all.

A couple hours later you were both laying on the bed, snuggling and watching a dumb movie that both of you weren’t even paying attention to. You were both just too wrapped up in each other’s presence. “Hey, I think you got some of that exercise you mentioned needing. Maybe we could even do some more if you want.” Bucky said, looking down at you and laughing.

You hit him lightly but couldn’t help from laughing hard as well. Only hours ago you thought that you wouldn’t get anything with Bucky. No happy ending, white picket fence, and with Bucky, the whole package. But no, you got much more than that. So much more.

#bucky x y/n #bucky #bucky barnes #x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel #mcc fanfic #mcu #firstfic #love

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rostovs-lover · 4 years

Text

roy rogers

brian may x reader | cursing, some suggestive language, a little bit of anxiety, alcohol consumption | she/her pronouns | fluffy? slow-burn?? | wc.3667

i’m low key tempted to make a part two,,

anon : Can I request a super cute fic where Bri needs more money for uni, so he starts offering guitar lessons and the reader has a little brother who really wants to learn how to play, so she signs him up. Maybe her brother is extremely good with a guitar and he has a lot of lessons with Bri. He also sees the reader a lot and he catches feelings HARD. Maybe the reader’s little brother spills something to both of them with the help of the rest of the band and they end of together. I just need major FLUFF

your younger brother thinks his guitar teacher is perfect for you and he’s adamant about getting you together. requests open!!

A Roy Roger’s is a nonalcoholic drink made of cola and cherry grenadine and topped with a maraschino cherry.

Your younger brother, David, practically lived in your apartment. For a fourteen year old he was brilliant and very, very sneaky. Sneaky enough to creep out of your mother’s house in the dead of night and crawl up to the fire escape of your second story apartment.

When you’d stumbled to the kitchen, half asleep, he’d been at the table thumbing through a cookbook. He’d also had the audacity to laugh when you screamed, thinking he was an intruder. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last either.

“One of these days something is going to be thrown at your head,” You hissed, setting a bowl of cereal in front of David, who looked at it with the utmost disgust.

“What is this?”

“Quisp, either eat it or starve.”

He glowered at you, “I like Waffelos,”

“That's so sad, I have no money, its Quisp or nothing.” It was quiet for a while as you both ate, David still looking through your cookbook.

He closed the book, examining the cover as he spoke, “Mum said you have to sign me up for guitar lessons,”

“Mum said what?”

“You have to sign me up for guitar lessons, she’ll pay. I have a well of untapped potential in the musical realm. That's according to her coworker, Deirdre.” He sighed, exasperated, “Mum trusts Deirdre apparently because now I have to learn guitar.”

“Where on earth does mum expect me to sign you up, I mean did she give you any specifics, like a price range? Do you even have a guitar?”

“First, I have mum’s old guitar. Second, she just said lessons. I think she trusts your judgment.”

Despite how much you appreciated your mother trusting your judgment, finding reasonably priced guitar lessons with someone who wasn’t a creep was harder than anticipated. You had collected a handful of flyers and business cards, all offering said lessons. The first call you placed was to a nice old lady looking to take up some spare time by providing lessons but she lived too far away for your mother to drive every week. The next was almost promising until you told Robert MacIntere that the lesson was for your brother, not you and he hung up the phone. One woman had too many cats, another man asked for your shoe size, someone else cursed you out when you said you couldn’t do their outlandish prices. The only promising thing you had gotten was a History professor, a very nice man too. You were thrilled when the lessons had finally been scheduled until he bowed out at the last minute and you were back at square one.

You had almost given up when, one rainy Thursday evening, you found an advert pinned outside of the auditorium. Guitar lessons, not too far away, open every Tuesday and Wednesday after three o’clock. The document was typed, all except a phone number scrawled on the bottom, almost as if an afterthought. You scratched the number on the palm of your hand and called straight away when you got home.

The line wrung for several seconds, “Yo?”

“Hi. Hi, yes I’m calling about a flyer I saw posted at Imperial College? It was an advert for bi-weekly guitar lessons, and your number was on the paper. I was wondering about booking a couple of weeks?”

The person on the line snorted, “Sorry dear, that’s not me. I assume you’re looking for my mate, just one moment and I’ll gather him-” You heard his hand cover the receiver as she called for someone, “Just one sec’ lovie,”

The phone was audibly handed off, “Hello?”

“Hi, um I’m calling about the guitar lessons?”

“Oh!” His voice, “Yes, of course! That's me, are you looking to schedule one?”

You had scheduled for the following Tuesday at four, to meet at his apartment. In the car on the way there, David rambled on about everything he wanted to learn and exactly how ecstatic he was for this. He had named his guitar George, after George Harison, who he admired. On the elevator ride up to Brian’s apartment, David was practically vibrating and he bounced on the balls of his feet as you waited at the door.

The door was opened by a blond, clad in a bathrobe and flannel pyjama pants who puffed at his cigarette as he stared at you, “What brings you here?”

Before you could speak David, who the blond hadn’t noticed until just then, piped up, “The guitar lessons. I’m the one being taught, [Name] is just sitting in.”

“Oh, well come in then, I’ll go and get Brian.” He tucked his cigarette behind him and lead you inside, “Um, make yourselves at home, couch is all yours.” He howled Brian’s name and ducked into the kitchen, snuffing out the smoke in an ashtray.

David got settled on the couch, tugging out his guitar, and you set into a chair. From around the corner rushed a very frantic body, clutching his own guitar. He was very tall, and the black pants he wore made his legs seem unproportionate to his body. What caught your eye the most though was his hair, he had a thick mane of tightly wound black curls, which also added to his height.

“Hi, I’m very sorry about this, I got a touch caught up in a bit of school work.” He settled onto the couch next to your brother, “You must be David, I’m Brian.” He gestured a hand to your brother.

David, ever the charmer, shook firmly as he spoke, “Its pleasure meeting you. I wasn’t quite sure that lessons were even going to happen, no one seemed right, according to mum, but you seem nice! Your guitar is neat. Oh! That's my sister, [Name], I believe you spoke on the phone.”

“We did,” Brian leaned forwards to shake your hand as well, “Its nice to meet you,”

A better teacher would have been hard to come by. Brian was patient and soft spoken, he worked at your brother’s pace, never rushing past anything he didn’t fully understand. The lesson was only an hour long but it seemed much shorter, with a book in tow you didn’t pay much mind to anything else. That was until you caught yourself glancing over the cover to watch the lesson. Brian was attractive and he had very nice hands. You were somewhat aghast you’d never seen him on campus, he seemed hard to miss.

The lessons became weekly, and despite trusting Brian and his roommate, Roger, you still opted to stay for every one. It was always pleasant, the apartment was nice, Brian was nice, and you had begun to get acquainted with his friends. During the third week, Roger had let it slip that they were in a band. Brian’s face had flushed scarlet and he’d played with his fingers as he explained that it wasn’t anything serious. On that same visit, you’d had a conversation with Roger in the kitchen while he got you a glass of water. He was nice, only half awake at the time, but you’d realized you had an evolution class together at school. He had also given you his number, and David would absolutely not let you hear the end of it.

“Please-” Your brother cried as he threw himself onto your sofa, “You haven’t had a boyfriend in ages. The last one was, what was his name?”

You rolled your eyes, “Chet?”

“Chet Robbins! Chet the safe bet!”

“Chet the safe bet? Did you make that up?”

David smiled, very proudly, “I did! Just now actually, because it's true! Chet, the business student, trust fund child, frat boy. Why not date a drummer?”

“Because I like stability David,”

“[Name] date the drummer. I beg, I plead. He was so into you, he gave you his number!”

“If you will recall, I have his number. Because his number is the apartment number and that's what I called for the lessons. I also refuse to date your teacher’s best friend. How would I approach that, ‘Hi Brian! You’re teaching my brother an instrument, I did your friend last night. How have you been?’”

David gasped in mock disgust, “I never said a word about doing him. You foul wench, I simply implied dinner. Maybe seeing one of his shows.”

“Oh my dear, when you date a drummer it's never just dinner.” You snorted.

“Well, when I date a drummer it will be. Only dinner, no foul play.”

“Please, please keep that attitude for the rest of your life.”

It was quiet as he mulled over your words. You started off, putting away your bag and coat when he abruptly sat up, “You don’t dislike the drummer, in fact, it has nothing to do with him. You don’t like my teacher’s best friend, you like my teacher.” He grinned when your face lit up, “Oh you do, you absolutely do! I’ve never seen you blush that hard.”

“You little twit,” You hissed, “If you say a word about this I will have your head. This stays between us and us only.”

David was sneaky, very sneaky. Your conversation had planted an idea in his head like a seed and every brief glance and soft smile you shared with his teacher was water. He was growing a downright devious plan, with you directly at the center of it.

David, after quietly looking over the house and picking up on Brian’s affinity for science fiction, had been the one to recommend you start reading George Orwell’s 1984. He had also purposely disappeared to the restroom when he caught sight of Brian eyeing the cover.

Brian carefully cleared his throat, “Do you read much Orwell?”

“Oh, Orwell? No, not really. I, um- I read The Road to Wigan Pier for a book club a while ago. Are you a fan?”

“Oh yes,” He smiled, leaning forwards, “I’ve read that, actually. I was in a band a few years back by the same name,”

You cocked your head, closing the book against your finger, “1984?”

“Yes, quite silly, I know. Never was much good at naming.”

“Roger said you’re in a band now, what's that called?”

His cheeks were beginning to pick up a soft pink again, “Um, Queen. Our singer named it-”

David sat back down, “Did I miss anything important?”

Brian looked away and you went back to your book. The only noise became the guitar residing between the two boys on the couch. David had learned enough to start on a song, I Walk the Line by Johnny Cash. It was recognizable enough to draw your attention, and it was lovely at first until it was all David played. When you returned home, when you visited your mother, he played it so much you had memorized the fingering to it.

It was at another lesson, several weeks later, when you had been left by your lonesome. David had gone to get a drink and Brian had run to retrieve something from his room. All alone and with nothing to tell you not to you settled into the couch with the guitar and tried at the song. It was choppy, a bit off-key, but mostly there.

“I didn’t know you played?” Brian’s voice was soft but you still jumped, shooting around to find him. Leaned against the back of the sofa he twirled a coin between his fingers, grinning down at you.

You swallowed, “I don’t, no, not really. Dave’s just played this so much I remembered how it looked.”

He propped his chin in his hand, “I think you could be quite good. Just, here-” He slipped the coin between his teeth to reach down, softly grasping your wrist, adjusting your placement on the neck. His hands were warm and it sent a shiver up your spine as he carefully moved your fingers, “That should do nicely, I trust you’ll do well with the right placement.” He was quiet for a moment, silently pondering something, “Friday night we have a show at about ten o’clock, say you come and maybe I could show you something on the guitar afterwards.”

You considered, “Where is it?”

“The Cameo, downtown London.”

“It sounds lovely, very, but I have to admit I’m not big on the downtown London clubs. I actually don’t know where that is. Although I do have a friend whos well versed with the scene, I could ask her to show me there?”

“Wonderful,” He grinned, “It's a date!” Something else David wouldn’t let go of. Usually, all he talked about was the music he learned but now he was enthralled with the prospect of a new romantic venture. You had been informed on exactly how to dress, what makeup to wear, what drink to order. He also picked the exact shade of blue for you to paint your nails.

You called Marilla after your mother picked David up and she had agreed, enthusiastically, to show you to the club. When she arrived you had been called ‘prudish’ and were forbidden to dress yourself. In the very back of your closet was a floral dress you’d bought for a wedding reception that never happened. It was supposed to be returned but you just hadn’t gotten around to it.

“It doesn’t scream rock n’ roll,” She inspected the green fabric under the kitchen light, “But anyone can look like Twiggy with enough eyeshadow so it’ll have to do. You should invest in club clothes, you might have to if anything goes with this guitar player.” Her eyebrows wagged.

You rolled your eyes, taking the dress from her, “Hush, you’re just as bad as David.”

“Your brother?” Marilla snorted, “What's he got to do with this?”

“He's an insufferable little shit, that's what-” You pushed off your top, “At first he tried to get me with the guitar player’s flatmate but when that didn’t work he really pushed Brian and I,”

Marilla was amused, far more amused than you, “He's a cunning thing, I’ve always liked him. Oh boy, now I really want to see your guitarist, Brian was it?”

The club pulsed, dull lights glaring down against everything. It was smokey and smelled of weed and whiskey. The band onstage was far too loud and you clung to Marilla’s hand as she pulled you up to the bar.

“What do you want?” She practically had to yell for you to hear but it went through you, you couldn’t think with all the noise and lights. She sighed and patted your hand, “A Moscow mule and a Roy Roger’s please.” She shouted at the bartender, “It's alright babes, no alcohol, just fancy cherry coke.” You nodded and accepted the drink, taking a tentative sip as you scanned the crowd. The band onstage had seemed to conclude their set but it didn’t make things any quieter. It was overwhelming really, moreso as Marilla started to pull you up to the front.

“Come on, it's almost ten. Your boy’ll be up next!” She settled in front of the stage, rooting you to the spot next to her.

Brian’s flatmate came out, twirling a drumstick between his fingers and he was met with loud cheers. Marilla whooped, waving big up at him. He was followed by the bass player, Brian, and the singer. They were all enthralling, and you were enraptured. The boys on stage looked ethereal, in flowy tops and sparkly makeup. The frontman was clad in glittery jewelry and the bass player wore platform boots. Their music drew you in and eased your nerves about how crowded the club was. The last song had a guitar solo and as he played Brian’s eyes met yours. A rose of warmth bloomed into your cheeks and he grinned, fingering at the chords.

Marilla, immune to none, elbowed you in the ribs, “That's him?!”

You nodded, “It is,”

“Damn girlie! Good for you! But for the record, I think I like the drummer,”

“His name is Roger. If you come backstage with me you can meet him.”

She grinned, “I’m so proud of you, getting connections!” As they finished Roger flung one of his drumsticks into the crowd. You flinched as Marilla’s hand shot out. She squawked as she caught it, quickly tucking it into her pants and taking your hand, pulling you towards the back lounge. She pushed at the thin curtain to the side, slipping in.

It was quieter and you watched people in glamorous outfits dally about. A redhead in hot pants dropped onto the shabby leather sofa, passing glass bottles of something to both the drummer and bassist. The singer was swirling what you could only assume to be a cosmopolitan. He looked up, catching sight of you and Marilla, both looking a bit lost.

“Hello, come come!” The singer waved you over and Marilla practically dragged you.

“You are spectacular!” She raved, “All of you, magical!” She tugged the stick out of her waistband and made her way to the drummer.

You cleared your throat, “You really are amazing, you have a lovely voice.”

The brunette smiled, “Thank you! I’m Freddie by the way, our charming drummer is Roger. The lovely John plays bass and Brian should be around here somewhere, he plays the guitar.”

“It's nice to meet you, Freddie, I’m [Name]. I was actually looking for Brian,” You twiddled with your fingers, looking down, “He asked to meet here tonight. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is would you?”

“You know, he may have popped to the kitchen. I’ll show you,” Freddie stood up. He seemed to catch your hesitation, glancing back to Marilla, “I’ll keep an eye on her. Roggie really is no harm, he plays much bigger than he actually is, I don’t think he could hurt a soul. Not an undeserving one at least.” He started towards the kitchen with you in tow.

Aforementioned kitchen was small and shockingly clean. Your guitarist sat on the counter with a glass of water.

Brian seemed to be in his own world until Freddie caught his attention, “Someone’s been looking for you, my dear,”

Brian looked up, “[Name]! Hello, I’m so glad you came!” He slid off the counter setting his drink down, “Did you bring your friend?”

“I did, she’s become infatuated with Roger though.”

He grinned, “Oh Rog seems to do that to some people.”

“Well, I'll leave you to it!” Freddie called, waving and walking back to the lounge.

When the door shut Brian began to fiddle with the bottom of his shirt, “I left my guitar in the other room, I could go and grab it if you’d still like to learn that song.” He studied your face, “But you don’t look comfortable, are you alright?”

“Yes, this just isn’t really my scene. I’m not used to the noise and everything, there's a lot of people here.”

He smiled sympathetically, “I know, it's crowded. There's a nice little diner just down the road, we could walk there and talk if you’d like.”

You nodded, “Sure, that would be lovely.”

The air was crisp and it brought you back to reality from the club. Brian had lent you an extra sweater he had brought, it was warm but you had to roll the sleeves a few times. It was quiet as you walked, the occasional car rushing past. The sidewalk narrowed as you got closer to the strip of restaurants and you felt the back of Brian’s hand brush yours. You caught his fingers, lacing yours into them and nervously looking up. His expression mimicked yours, jittery and shy and totally taken.

“You look very pretty,” He murmured, thumbing over your knuckles, “That green looks very nice on you.”

You smiled, “Thank you, you look lovely as well.”

“Oh pish posh, this is just stage wear. But I’m glad you think it looks okay, Rog said I looked frumpy.”

You giggled, “Marilla, the one who brought me, called me prudish earlier.”

His laugh was soft, “Well, we can be fashion disappointments to our friends together,” He pulled open the door to MaryAnne’s Diner, holding it for you.

You were settled in a booth waiting for your order when Brian spoke, “David really has potential,”

“With the guitar? I’m not surprised, he's always been good at everything he tries. It's really quite annoying, how brilliant he is.”

“He seems so, a very nice kid. Does he live with you?”

“No no,” You smiled, “No he lives with our mum, he just sneaks out to see me more than he should. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for letting me sit in, I know it's not common practice. I just worry about him, he seems so much older than he actually is and I’m worried it’ll get him in trouble one day.”

Brian patted your hand, “Oh darling, I understand. I really don’t mind at all, I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I’ve met you as well.”

He had walked you home, contently explaining the story behind one of the constellations he saw.

He stalled at the door, keeping your hand in his, “So I suppose I’ll see you next week?”

“Absolutely,”

He moved one hand to push a piece of hair out of your face, “Well until then I suppose,”

You leaned up, closing in on him. You felt his hot breath against your cheeks, “Is this okay?”

He nodded, “More than,” And pulled you into him.

He was as gentle in kissing you as he was in everything else, carefully nudging his nose against yours. His mouth was warm and he stroked your mandible, easing deeper into the kiss. He relished in the taste of maraschino cherry from the Roy Roger’s you’d had earlier. You gasped softly as he nipped at your bottom lip, pulling away. The lipgloss he had been wearing was smeared against the corner of your mouth and he carefully wiped at it with his thumb.

David would never let you hear the end of this either.

#Brian May #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #Queen #queen imagine #queen x reader #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagines #queen #lennie writes

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stars-trash-18 · 3 years

Text

Home II

I’m thinking of doing weekly to bi-weekly updates since that seems to fit my schedule better. I’m in the process of moving so between packing and getting my house ready to sell I’ll use my spare time to write. Also as many of us know the well of writing goes dry leaving us in a writer’s block.

I hope you enjoy the second installment to this series. Reminder that if you see any errors, or mentions of race or gender to let me know so that I can fix it. I want this fic to be for everybody.

You didn’t speak to them for weeks after that, wanting them to come to you when they were ready. Until Big Blue decided to disturb the peace.

He flew in when you were re-thatching the roof of the barn, you clutched your hat to your head as the wind picked up as he was landing. He sent dirt everywhere and blew several stacks of thatch off the roof, the chickens running around in panic, and Tusker went into an overprotective tizzy. The Tusk Cat circled the man warily with a low growl, but stopped when Paz held his hand out, concluding that the man half the size of a Bantha was no threat.

Paz looked up at you and you swore you could feel his apologetic look as he hoisted a few bundles of thatch into his thick arms. You would’ve been impressed if you weren’t sweating like a TaunTaun on Tatooine. Paz carefully climbed the ramp up to your spot and set the thatch down next to you, lowering himself to his knees to help.

“I’m here to let you know the clan agreed to repay you in labor, a few of us are able enough to help you work the land and the rest have skills that you’d benefit from,” he explained as he tightly weaved the long reeds and grasses together. You were slightly impressed, you had him down as a plain warrior not a craftsman.

“Alright, just know I won’t treat you like slaves, I've helped too many escape so it’ll be fair pay for fair work,” you said as you fixed a few of the strands.

“The most I’ll ask for is basic repairs, some help during harvests, and maybe some help gathering the herd when winter rolls in,” You rattled off handedly , “it might take awhile since it is a big piece of land but you'll have more use than I did so you should work it off in a few years,”.

You glanced up at the giant to see his visor pointed directly at you. You quirked an eyebrow at him as you stabbed a wooden pin into the weave, he flinched slightly at your sudden move and refocused on weaving.

“That’s kind of you more than we can ask for, pretty sure you’re one of the only decent beings left in the forsaken galaxy,” he huffed as you finished one section of the roof. You stood up and dusted your hands on your pants and held a hand out to help him up. He took it and with a grunt pulled himself up .

“If we’re going to be working together I'd at least like your name,” you said as you walked carefully down the ramp, Tusker waiting patiently at the bottom for you. You used him to help balance yourself after walking down at such an angle, leaning some of your weight onto him.

Paz seemed to have better footing than you did because he was able to walk in a straight line down, sending a chicken scurrying out of his path with a squawk of protest.

“Paz, my name is Paz and who has my clan put themselves in debt to?” he asked, though his tone was joking you didn’t miss the thinly veiled threat behind his words. You knew that anyone who messed with the clan had to answer to this blue mountain.

“Y/N, and don’t consider it debt, consider it an exchange with delayed payment,” you teased slightly as you heard your son’s scream getting closer. You pivoted in the direction of Attila and had a blaster in your hand and held at your thigh primed before Paz could even react.

“ZAZAAAA,” he cried as he launched himself into your legs. You nearly toppled over but a strong hand on your back kept you upright and a quick glance in the corner of your eyes proved that it was Paz who kept you upright.

“What is it, my little womp rat? Don’t tell me you were up to your antics again,” You scolded lightly as you placed a hand onto your son’s hair and softly ran your fingers through it to calm him, bending down to be closer to his height as you spoke. Attila reeled back from you hold and lightly battered your hands away from his hair, running his own hands through to keep it in place.

“Zaz I'm too old for that, I just wanted to show you my project,” he grumbled, his eyes glancing from you to Paz who leaned against a hitching post. You blinked at your kid for a moment, forgetting he’s almost a teenager. He may love your attention most of the time but when people are around he acts like every other preteen, wanting to impress others.

You only sighed and lightly shook your head, “sorry kid, I forget you’re older now, but what is this project you were so excited to show me,” you said. You stood up again and watched as Attila reached into his back pocket and brought out one of your broken blasters.

“I know you hate me messing with weapons zaza, but I read blaster repair and wanted to try it out for myself, and look it works again!” he exclaimed, holding it out to you. You tried not to get angry with him, he was intelligent for 10 and always liked taking things apart to see how they worked. But you didn’t want him messing with weapons until you could find him a mentor, too many incidents from a blaster being rewired wrong flashed through your head.

“You know I’d normally ground you for this Attila and you’re lucky I’m in a good mood, so let’s see how this’ll work out,” you sighed defeatedly, taking the offered blaster from his hands. You carefully inspected it for anything out of order while it warmed up, glancing at a few of the components to find anything amiss. It was when you felt a large presence behind you that you glanced over your shoulder, having forgotten about your guest.

“If you’d like I could fire it for you, the armor protects me better if anything goes wrong, besides I’m a weapons expert and I've been blown up by a few of my own projects,” Paz offered, almost shyly at the mention of his own projects. You gave it little thought before dropping the blaster in his waiting hand, you’d rather he take the hit to his armor than you in nothing but your work clothes.

“Of course, there’s a can up on the fence post across the yard that I use for practice,” You mentioned offhandedly, taking Attila by the shoulders and moving yourselves back a few paces. Attila giggled in excitement as he kept his eyes glued to Paz’s armor, your son obviously taking a liking to him. Paz nodded in your direction and placed himself in a shooting stance, lifting the arm with the blaster up as he lined his shot. With a loud pop you saw a bolt send the mentioned can flying several yards away, and Paz let out a pained grunt as electricity flowed through his arm, causing him to drop the blaster into the dirt.

You rushed to his side and placed an arm around him to steady the man as Attila stood stock still in shock. Paz leaned heavily into your side before straightening up and letting you guide him into your house, kicking the door open and settling the man onto your dining chair.

“Attila, run and grab my kit from the bathroom, then put on my electrical gloves and get that blaster out of the yard,” you ordered as you wrangled Paz’s glove off his hand. Paz seemed to protest at first but relented when you glared at him and removed the glove, seeing slight burns on his fingertips and his hand stuck like he was still holding the blaster.

“I’m fine, it’s just a little shock, kid put too much power into the firing module and it backfired, I’ll be fine in a few hours,” Paz lamented, gritting his teeth and balling his good hand into a fist to try and distract himself from the pain.

You only huffed before grumbling about his stubbornness, “what I see is different, you have some nerve damage in your hand and if I don’t get some Bacta on it now you won’t have use of your hand for the next week,” you retorted. Digging through your kit for the bacta spray, pulling it free and popping the cap off with your teeth, spraying a generous amount onto the burns and surrounding nerves. You started to massage the hand, trying to get that bacta deep into his skin to better heal.

Attila came running in and set the blaster down onto the table, wringing your gloves between his hands as he stared at Paz’s hand, his eyes slowly filling with tears.

“I’m sorry mandalorian, I should’ve listened to zaza and now you’re hurt, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” He sniffled letting a few tears roll. Paz seemed to relax and extended his good hand out to Attila, moving the boy closer to him so he could rest his arm around Attila. You watched on in caution but refocused on wrapping his hand in bacta infused bandages when you saw how Paz softened at the crying child.

“It’s alright little one, accidents happen, this is just a lesson that needed to be learned,” He soothed, rubbing Attila’s shoulder comfortingly, “Now you know to listen to your Buir better and that I need to shock-proof my armor better, I’ll be alright,” he continued. This seemed to soothe Attila as he wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and nodded, scurrying to his room to curl up with Tusker to calm down.

You sighed and watched him until he closed his door, turning back to your patient as you secured the glove back onto his hand, “thank you for that, it normally takes longer to soothe him, he hates failing,” you said, watching as reached for the blaster on the table. Turning it this way and that to inspect it.

“I told him he can mess with blasters when I find him proper training, but out here it’s hard to find a weaponsmith without an apprentice already,” you lamented softly. Paz turned his visor towards you and extended the blaster out to you to take before settling back into the chair.

“I know what it’s like, I was the same way when I was his age shortly before I joined the fighting Corps, I'm just glad I took the hit and not you or the boy,” he explained, running a hand down his thigh plating. It drew your attention briefly, knowing it was probably a scar from a similar incident, but you quickly looked back up at Paz as your face started to heat up.

“Kid’s good I’ll admit with his limited knowledge, if you ever find him a mentor I think he’d make something of himself,” He added, before standing up and heading towards the still open door, pausing briefly to look back at you.

“If you need anything you know where to find us,” he said before closing the door behind himself. A minute later you heard his jet pack fire up and you heard him disappear towards the bunker.

You sighed heavily and cradled your face in your hands to breathe deeply and decompress from all the activity. Rubbing your hands harshly down your face before you stared at the seat Paz had occupied a minute ago. What had you gotten yourself into.

#paz vizsla x reader #paz vizla imagine #Paz x reader #paz imagine #Paz viszla #home II #Paz series

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endexe · 3 years

Text

GENERAL ROLEPLAY STYLE & PREFERENCES

BOLD : applies to you. ITALICS : only applies to you sometimes. STRIKETHROUGH : does not apply to you. elaborate on any points you’d like with an *

TYPES OF ROLEPLAY / HOW I DO THREADS: i don’t. i just do whatever is on my dash when i’m online. mainly asks. i do little short things mostly. i do my threads on discord. long - running threads that slowly build upon the muses.

PLOTTING PREFERENCES: wing it. get a general idea ooc, run with it and plot further if need be. long expansive thought out arcs.

TYPES OF THREADS I DO / PREFER: one - liners only. whatever dash shenanigans i’m online for. para or multi - para. literal novels.

REPLY SPEED FOR THREADS AND CONSISTENCY KEEPING THREADS: i lose threads all the time and usually get back to them. i tend to lose threads but please tell me if i have and i’ll reply. i drop threads pretty quickly. i’m really slow but i will get back to you. i reply on a schedule / queue. i usually reply within a week. i reply every day. i reply almost instantly.

* ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL SHIPS: i don’t do these ships. i’m not against them happening but it is not the main point of my blog. ships will have to be discussed a lot ooc. super chemistry based. i love doing ships, hmu i probably already ship it so just ask. i ship really quickly. autoship or ship within a few interactions. i mainly rp for the cute ship fluff or angsty smut.

** SMUT: i do not do smut at all. i’m very selective about it. i only go it on a separate blog / on discord. i mainly only do asks relating to nsfw headcanons on sundays. i write it a medium amount. i write it all the time and love to. i am comfortable with foreplay and fade - to - blacks but nothing further.

ACTIVE HOURS: mornings, 8 – 10. midday, 11 – 1. afternoon, 2 – 5. evenings, 6 – 8. night, 9 – 12. ungodly hours of the day, 1 – onwards.

ACTIVITY SCHEDULE: super slow and sporadic, like once a month or so. slow and sporadic, week - long gaps between activity. bi - weekly ish. weekly activity. daily activity. i’m online nearly all the time.

STARTERS: i don’t do starter calls. i want to do starter calls but often don’t have time. i do selective calls. i don’t do calls but always feel free to ask me for one. i post calls rarely, regularly, often.

AUS: i don’t do aus. my blog is an au but outside of that i don’t do them. i sometimes do them but only with a lot of plotting. i have a couple of aus already, feel free to request them. i have aus coming out of my ears, please interact with them. i love making aus, hmu to plot if you think of one. there are some aus i won’t do.

CROSSOVERS: i don’t do crossovers. i’m selective with crossovers. i love crossovers.

* Romantic / sexual ships:

1. I have been becoming a lot more selective with them recently because I've been getting the energy from - actually - quite some former mutuals before who wanted to ship with R solely because of their previous main faceclaim ( D.an S.tevens ) and / or of their ' soft uwu ' personality when they're obviously more than their faceclaim and ONE side of them, and now especially because I changed their main faceclaim to a more... I don’t know for a lack of better word but??? iconic??? figure ( S.hane M.adej ), I'm a lot more wary with who I interact with just in general. If I get a slightest sense that someone is interested with R in general more because of their faceclaim and / or only that one softest uwu part of their personality, I’m fucking booting them out instantly.

2. I talked about this before that a lot of my mutuals were supportive about ( not in terms of shipping but in general ) but I had noticed recently that I have a LOT of issues with communicating with literally everyone on this site because I have trouble forming and sensing connections with people I interact with here and in real life when I had been constantly fucked over by a lot of former friends and partners outside of the rpc and the fewest former mutuals who I DID manage to somehow connect so well with - something would go wrong in the end so I'm quite emotionally distant despite my usual cheerful demeanor. I say this because I am fully aware out of character communication is a very important aspect to shipping ( as it is in roleplay general, but there’s a thing where people would expect more communication when it comes to shipping than general dynamics, at least in my own personal opinion ), so this is more of a warning that I’m very quiet on my end if you ever want to ship with me. I rarely set up a shipping call or suggest a ship because of this as I don’t want to disappoint anyone lmfao, but, don’t be shy to ask me if you want to ship because there’s a chance I’d be on the same boat!

** Smut:

I actually have never written smut with and for ( via prompts ) anyone before, so I don’t really know where my line of comfort is when it comes to writing it, but I am more than okay with having out of character communication about our muses’ sexual interests and whatnot!

#› ˚ ༘ .˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ 0UT 0F CH4R4C73R .#( ok and off I go to do the rest of my college work scREAM S )

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garlicillo · 3 years

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animal crossing direct thoughts

I should have posted my wish list for the direct -_- but I was pleasantly surprised that they finished adding the basics 2 years later before they added dlc ...

but then again, I’m very easy to please and don't really think about things until I see someone with big brain energy thinking...

also my serious thoughts are at the very bottom

Brewster

Glad he’s back, after almost 2 years...

Hopefully Celeste gets her observatory to make the museum symmetrical but after this being the “Last Major Free Update,“ I don’t see that happening

No cafe job shown but I hope we do get one

Hopefully NPCs that show up are on a constant schedule for when they show up at the cafe (not daily but like weekly or even bi-weekly)

Glad you can invite friends and amiibo but i don't have any :(

Kapp’n

No Kapp’n family in sight

1000 nook miles!!!!!????? (that kind of expensive...)

Vines are interesting !! and pretty.

Glad for new fauna.

Different times and seasons for the new mystery islands are exciting but I hope they’re going to be mini games!

Harv

Hariiiiiiiettttt

Reese and Cyrus are back !!!!

Katrina !!!!

Tortimer!!!!

I wish you can only get these new hair styles from Harriett

Happy to see some sort of main street come back to animal crossing

We got exercising back from Population Growing!!

Motions controls too!! it sound fun!!!!!

Ordinances - i wasn't really missing them but i’m glad they're back for those who wanted them

More customization and expansion always welcomed

Cooking DIYs/Veggies

Cooking finally being implemented into the game

Love the new crops tho

But nowhere to put them, i need to terraform again :(

Woah the foods!! And you can make flour and sugar

I’m glad that this is going to be before Harvest festival

Design and Customization

Accent walls, oooohhh

Glad to see things from HHD being implemented, nice

Custom fencing -- white fencing that everyone wanted

Everyone can make there white fence suburbia now!

New reactions !! hopefully Shrunk Funk Shuffle is in there.

Camera Updates: Reactions from characters that are in the photo are cute!

Custom designs we can wear, i feel like we should have been there this whole time?

It seems like in other games the ability to wear/decorate with custom designs was always there

Again, there should have been hairstyles exclusive to harriet just so we have something to go back to her for

New fencing! they look sooo cool! and more bridges and ramps!

External storage shed, glad it’s there now

Should have been implemented with the first storage expansion.. but super convenient

ADB - Super convenient

New K.K. singles dropped and cute music box(es)

The ladder set up kit is really neat!!

I hope there’s no limit to how many ladders you can have

I love that it’s less bulky than the staircases/ramps

Squeezing into tight spaces is sick - Didn’t HHD have this feature?

House visits - They’re back!!

Finally!

and new villagers! woahh

Gyroids

Watering fragments is super cool

Gyroids, my beloved

The new designs are super cute

Love that you can customize

Hopefully Brewster can store them this time

What I wanted but didn’t see

No Nook Shop updates

No Celeste observatory

No bananas in sight or the other tropical fruit

No returning furniture sets

Last free update *distress emote*

But we take away everything that was already set up in previous games what exactly is new to ACNH?

All this to say Nintendo added what should have been there from day a year and a half later. I really don't want to hear people say “Oh they finally listen to us!!” because they started working on ACNH close after the release of New Leaf so they pretty much had this all planned out but for what? Why release (what is now considered) base game updates almost 2 years later?

also i change my mind about being happy about HHP being 25, it should have been like the welcome amiibo update because these “free updates“ should have been in the game since day 1

#animal crossing direct #animal crossing spoilers #acnh spoilers #garlicky thoughts #i hate dlc

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bronanlynch · 3 years

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(bi)weekly media update

apparently I just. do these every two weeks now huh. sorry to the tuesday again no problem extended universe crew for being unable to keep to a consistent schedule

listening: Curses by The Crane Wives, a band that I just started listening to but I like their sound, nice and fun and folksy, lots of songs with ominous lyrics that are good on fanmixes

youtube

honorary mention to the new Lil Nas X song because we are all love the new Lil Nas X song, it’s a bop, it’s been stuck in my head on and off ever since I heard it, and I am not immune to sexily blasphemous music videos

reading: finished Smoke & Ashes, the most recent book in the Kate Kane series that I talked about last week, and I enjoyed it a lot but there sure is a cliffhanger and afaik no set release date for the next one. it’s pretty angsty but does have lots of nice moments of hope, and some discussion about recovering from both depression and alcoholism that I appreciated.

also read more romance novels, and I appreciate that Cat Sebastian, like KJ Charles, knows how to write about rich characters while making it incredibly clear that hoarding wealth is morally indefensible. it’s like the “wow, cool robot” thing where I want to be told that I’m right for disliking capitalism/imperialism/the military industrial complex, but also I do very much want you to show me the cool robot (hot rich prettyboy in nice clothes)

also finally started Harrow the Ninth today, so I’m sure I’ll have more to say about that next time

watching: speaking of “wow, cool robot,” watched a little bit more Turn A Gundam, which sure does have some cool robots. also some gender. the main character crossdresses to like, hide their identity for fun complicated spy reasons and it’s not treated as a joke or anything? it’s just a thing that they do? and no one comments on it beyond when they were like “hey you have to wear a dress to this event because the people from the moon think our mech pilot is a woman and they can’t know it’s actually you because they still think you’re working for them”

absolutely hate that the guy on the right is just wearing a normal boring suit though like. c’mon man

Zan and I have been watching The Falcon and the Winter Soldier aka the sambucky show each week and my review so far is. well it’s about what I expected. the first episode was incredibly slow and kinda disappointing (Sam and Bucky never interact! the fact that Bucky might maybe miss Steve is never brought up, not even by his therapist, who tbh gives me incredibly bad vibes! if my best friend and the only person I knew from my past fucked off and left me alone to deal with my trauma in favor of ruining the life of a woman who’d moved on from him, I’d be pissed!) (for the sake of not being angry all the time I pretend Steve died instead of did That).

the second episode was more fun, more happens, there’s some incredibly heavy-handed corporate queerbaiting mixed in with some actually nice emotional moments (this article and this thread by the same person have a pretty good summary of All That). the handling of race, uh, could be better tbh. I appreciate what they’re going for, and to be fair the whole show isn’t out yet so it could get better (since some of the problems are tied to, y’know, the overall political problems, i.e. the fact that the villains are a group of people, led by a Black woman, who hate borders and illegally deliver medication to refugees which is somehow a bad thing, I kind of doubt it). but there is something about the way they’re making a Black man the mouthpiece of American imperialism, and the way that the new (white) Captain America who takes the shield when Sam doesn’t want it has a Black girlfriend and a Black best friend who, so far, have mostly just given him motivational pep talks, that doesn’t really inspire confidence. (this article and thread are a good overview of that aspect of the show)

also, I think it’s very funny when people are like “well you can’t say anything about the show yet, only two episodes are out” like. first of all lads it’s a six episode show, a third of the content is a decent chunk to use to form an analytical opinion, and second of all, if something strikes you as Not Great, you’re allowed to feel that way and say that, you don’t have to wait to see if there might be some twist or context that makes the thing you didn’t care for great and fine, actually,

that being said,

(when we watched the first episode, the immediate next thing we did was watch Winter Soldier and I was pleasantly surprised how well it holds up. not perfect obvi but still a solid movie, and the music does fuck)

also watched this very neat little video essay on Victoriana costuming and like, why so much media is set in the Victorian era, and started the c-drama Word of Honor which I’m sure will either be in a future post or just. something I start blogging about normally

playing: the weekend before last was the Beam Saber season finale, which I’ve already posted about quite a bit because it was fun and I love to play games with my friends. played a very fun game of Things, Eldritch and Terrifying by S. Gates this past weekend. it’s a very fun game, with very easy-to-follow rules and lots of helpful adjectives and scene starters, and also just conceptual it slaps (one person is an eldritch terror, the other person is the human that they’re courting. there’s a variant where you play as a vampire. it slaps). we made it uh, more of a rom-com than a horror story but I had a very good time, we told a very cute love story, and we’re gonna try again to make it more horror-y next time.

also I finally started Brigmore Witches and it’s very good and fun. my one complaint is that I want the Whalers to have names, because I enjoy the bit at the beginning where you can eavesdrop on them and some of them are concerned for you and some of them are fucked up about the Overseers invading their home and some of them want to fucking betray you. also, I didn’t realize that the very beginning when you fight Corvo is a dream sequence so I spent the whole fight being like “wait why does he get a gun and I don’t, where are my powers, wait aren’t I supposed to lose this fight for Plot Reasons why is he dead.” also, fucking love the favor that lets you dress up as an Overseer to get into the prison. I do love a good disguise mission

making: citrus chicken (from a cookbook so no link), plus some citrus-y root vegetables. very good if you like orange.

writing: nothing I can share yet for ~zine reasons. yes I have several fandom event weeks coming up that I want to participate in, no I haven’t written anything for any of them yet

#dreaming.txt #pictures of food below the read more

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cherryonigiri · 4 years

Note

helloooo! i’d love to know what you think ushijima would be like with an artsy s/o!! express whichever way you feel suits (hcs, a drabble etc) rlly love your handle name and writing x

A/N: hiiiiii omg thank you for the complement on my handle name - I love cherry blossoms and onigiri is one of my favorite foods (+ onigiri miya is CANON now yayyyyy) as previously stated i always have a soft spot for Ushijima I decided to do a bunch of headcanons. Enjoy :) P.S. I’m planning to do a part 2 with a small scenario - probably will post that soon.

FYI this is an Aged-Up AU where both the reader + Ushi are done with university!!!

Part 2 is here!

You are well on your way to becoming a professional musician, but you also have a soft spot for visual art / DIY

Sometimes you do commissions for paintings/crafts - it’s a great way to destress whenever your musical career starts becoming very high pressure

Your shared apartment with Ushijima is filled with paintings, sketches and watercolors that you’ve created and little DIYs that you’ve made throughout the years

Overall it has a very cozy/homey vibe - and its soothing for you to return home after hours upon hours of rehearsal, lessons and practice

Over the years you’ve lived together you’ve filled the place with plants and little trinkets & momentos from dates you’ve gone on with him (think ticket stubs, seashells from beaches you’ve been to, etc.)

There are also some paintings/sketches you’ve done of your athletic boyfriend - using midair shots taken by sports photographers as reference

Ushijima’s favorite thing in the entire apartment is the t-shirt quilt you made - using his old jerseys from middle + high school, U-19, university, the olympics etc.

You gave it to him on one of your anniversaries and he definitely didn’t cry had such a big smile on his face awwwww

You both lead very busy lives - you’re often out until very late because most concerts/performances happen in the evenings

However, your schedule is slightly more flexible during the day - and you take advantage of that to watch some of his games/practice matches/practices

Although you aren’t the loudest cheerer, Ushijima always appreciates the cute homemade banners/posters you bring to his games

Will always make sure he sees you face to face after his games - either to give you a quick hug before you have to zip off to rehearse/perform or waiting for you so you can both go home

Ushijima makes every effort to attend whatever concerts he can, sometimes he can’t help it if he’s at an away game or overseas for volleyball, but you bet your ass he does is absolute best to be there and support you

I mean he’s super rich mans is in the v-league after all and doesn’t mind spending the $$$ on tickets to support his s/o’s career

Whenever you have a late night because of a performance he always cooks for you when you get home (or prepares food in advance) - it’s probably something super healthy + delicious

When you work from home - you have your own little music studio that you two invested in soundproofing + an art/DIY room

Ushijima helped you soundproof your music studio + surprised you by converting the study/extra room into a DIY/art space for you (inspired by Zach from the Try Guys when he surprised Maggie with a DIY room)

Domestic Ushijima is my shit so you both take turns doing chores/cleaning up etc. If he’s coming back from an away game you always make sure to have a hearty meal waiting for him + pick him up at the airport

Bi-weekly couple days - you two always make sure to set aside 2 full days each month that are reserved for each other

Sometimes you’ll surprise each other with reservations to a fancy restaurant or day trip to the countryside

Other times it’s a stay at home day - netflix and chill ;) and you two will cook/bake together

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu hcs #hq imagines #hq hcs #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #shiratorizawa #schweiden adlers

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archived-gtronpa-account · 4 years

Text

I just,,, wanna offer my contribution to @sam-cant-function 's borrower Makoto AU so,,,

Borrower!Ultimate hope !!

Word count: 2100

Summary: Naegiri, but Makoto is a borrower and Kyoko isn't easy to fool.

(based on this post)

___

Pins, needles, paperclips; it was hard not to notice those missing for someone as sharp as Kyoko.

The mysterious crumbs on spotless countertops were also a giveaway. She would have thought of vermins and pests running in her walls had it only been for the crumbs and missing foods, but the odd ustensiles and knick-knacks that frequently went missing eventually lead the detective girl to an odd conclusion; there was a small, intelligent being swiping from her.

She considered investigating the place to see if she could understand what kind of being she was being faced with, but decided against it as the creature might see her in the act and flee off, so she opted for a more sublte approach.

Everyday, she kept a drawer cracked open, an unfinished plate out, some pencil leads carefully scattered on the floor; any small thing she'd notice were it to disappear. Later at the academy, where the creature couldn't spy on her, she would take out her notebook and make a list of what had been taken that day.

Looking at her notes had her more and more impressed every time. The little creature seemed to have a concept of habit and schedule; taking necessities weekly to bi-weekly according to its needs rather than stealing whatever was available. Kyoko also started to make tests to try to understand the nature of the creature, leaving animal foods out now and then, small mechanical parts, crafting materials, fabric, seeds...

Gradually, it became clear that the little being had a tendency to steal the more humane things she left out. That piqued her curiosity, and lead her to notice things she hadn't seen before, like bits of soap missing, or a small trail of shampoo under her closed bottle.

Kyoko found herself amused and eager to investigate about the small humane being. Everyday, she was so excited to see what had gone missing that she found it hard to keep the smile off her face.

After school, she went to her room and knelt down, feigning to pick up a discarded paper when she was only counting the paperclips on the floor.

"...four, five..." She muttered under her breath. There was one missing. Usually, that also meant some yarn would be missing as well.

She stood up and headed to where the roll of yarn was left, when she heard shuffling.

Her eyes snapped in the direction of the sound. There was a lone can of white paint on a shelf, but nothing unusual about it.

She kept her gaze fixated on the can, silent and motionless. There was no mistaking that sound, something was hiding behind that container.

Kyoko saw something, a flicker of movement or her eyes tricking her. It was so small she would have missed it had she blinked, but she was certain it was movement.

Runts and pests don't hide and stay silent. Chances were, the little thief was hiding behind the paint can. It seemed like it didn't have anywhere to flee from there. Kyoko bit her lip, uncertain about the situation. She had done her best for weeks to stay out of the creature's business, only investigating from the shadows, but at that moment she had the perfect opportunity to finally get a good look at it and confirm some of her suspicions. Still, she risked scaring it off and never seeing it again. She could leave the room, and keep watching from the shadows forever.

But she wanted more than that.

Kyoko shook her head, stood on her tip toes and made her way to the shelf, quiet as a mouse. Thankfully, the lamp at the end of the room played in her favor, as her shadow wouldn't give her away if she looked from above at the right angle.

She stood still and listened for any movement, any shifting, breathing. She thought she had heard something, but she couldn't place it.

Kyoko leaned above the can, and her eyes widened at the sight. Maybe she had expected some animalistic creature, with some sort of anthropomorphic characteristic at most. She had not expected the creature to look so unsettlingly human.

Two hands and two feet, a human face and head with a tuft of brown messy hair on top, clothing, shoes and a bag. It looked exactly like a human boy, aside from some small furry tail on its back.

It jumped in surprise and it's head shot up in her direction. Dammit, she must have lost her focus and breathed out.

Purple eyes locked onto brown ones. The detective noticed the small boy's face contorted in fear, it's whole body shaking and it's arms clinging onto its bag. He looked so human, and it radiated off terror. Kyoko felt a pang of guilt at the sight. Her curiosity had lead to that outcome, and who knew what would happen after that encounter?

Kyoko turned around and left the room, eyes fixated on the ground. Hopefully, if she left fast and let the tiny boy escape, he would come back again and not run away to where she would never see him again.

____

The boy must have understood her trick

For days, she didn't find her stuff missing anymore. The pins and needles didn't bother her as much as the crumbs remaining on her counter every morning. Either he had found a new source of food, or the tiny boy had left for good.

Turned out, it was the former. Kyoko eventually started to find small dents in her food packages and boxes. The relief of that discovery was short lived however, as she realized there was much less food missing than ever, and times and times again, she didn't find crumbs missing from the same package after she found dents on it.

To think that the tiny boy must have been keeping tabs on her to see if she would trick him again, change food sources all the time not to get caught, and the worryingly small amount of food missing... Kyoko felt sick with guilt. Her curiosity had lead her to starving the tiny boy, and she had no idea on how to go about fixing her mistake.

Eventually, she decided to leave a simple note out and some food in a bottle cap, some attempt at an apology. But that didn't work. However, when she got her note back, she took time to examine it at the academy and traced footprints on it. The best result she got from that was that the boy had opened the note and stood at the bottom of the text, strongly suggesting he had read the note or at least knew the placement of Latin letters.

Given the intellect that much required, she hypothesised that the tiny boy may be able to understand her English to some extent. She considered trying to communicate with him, but decided against it for the longest time.

That option came back to mind when her belongings started being brought back.

It had been such a long time since she found the number of pins on her desk decreasing, so it came as a shock when she found it increasing, at eight instead of seven.

Later that same day, she found a paperclip in her bag that she was sure she hadn't placed.

That much was odd, and admittedly, worrying for the detective. She wasn't sure what the implications of her stuff being gradually bought back were, but in any case, she feared she might be harming the tiny boy badly. She needed to act soon.

If he decided to leave for good, then be it, but Kyoko wouldn't let him live in hunger and fear. He'd either stay and live well or leave for his own good.

Kyoko stayed up that same night and awaited his arrival. When the clock struck four, she thought the tiny boy wouldn't come that night, but her worry vanished when she heard shuffling in the kitchen.

She waited a moment and listened to the small pitter-patter of tiny feet. Once she heard it had gotten far enough from its initial source, she got up and made her way to the kitchen.

Turning the lights on could give the impression that she had an advantage, so she kept them off and carfully stepped in the dark room.

"Hello?" Her eyes scanned the counters and floor, but she didn't find anything, or anyone.

"Please, don't be afraid. I'm only here to talk," she did her best to keep her voice soft.

Kyoko was met with deafening silence. She had expected no less though, so she was fine with keeping the dialogue up on her own.

"I'm sorry if I startled you the other day," the girl took a couple steps forward and held her hands up, but after consideration, brought them behind her back. "I don't mean to interfer with your, err, business..."

She saw a flicker of movement behind a chair. Instinctively, her eyes darted there and locked onto the tiny form that had emerged, making him flinch. She cursed herself, wishing she had ignored it.

On the other hand, she was glad she was making eye contact with the little boy, at least he was willing to communicate to some extent.

"Can you understand me?" She spoke in a clear, articulate voice.

The tiny boy shook his head vigorously, but tensed up when he realized his mistake. Had the atmosphere not been so tense, Kyoko would have found the slip-up kind of cute and funny.

"Alright then." The girl took a step back, and carefully knelt down to be more at eye-level with the tiny boy. "Again, I'm sorry for bothering you, that wasn't my intention. Please, rest assured I have no intention of ever harming you in any way. I don't want you to get hurt or feel hungry or anything of the sort. So, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to come take it, and I won't interact with you if it makes you uncomfortable."

"S-seriously...?" He squeaked out, voice cracking a bit. The answer startled the detective. She hadn't even thought he would want to listen to her, let alone want answer and have the capacity to. She gave a small, solemn nod.

"Like, really, th-this isn't a trick or anything though, right...?" He was surprisingly talkative. Things were going even better than Kyoko could have hoped, she almost wanted to pinch herself in fear she had fallen asleep in the night and was just dreaming. But she kept her head clear and herself composed.

"Even though I'm only a stranger, and this might mean nothing to you, I do promise that I'm only speaking the truth," she kept her eyes on him, fiery with determination.

"Oh- I know you're the kinda person who keeps their promises though, h-hah..." He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. His mannerisms were exactly like those of any human; he was even more expressive than Kyoko herself. Her heart pounded against her ribcage in excitement, everything about the strange small person was bizzare and impressive. "Uhm, so, thanks. A-anyway, can I go now?" The tiny boy stumbled a few steps back, eyes darting around the room as if looking for an exit.

He'd been so talkative for a few seconds, Kyoko had forgotten how scared he must be in her presence and how he would eventually have to go.

"Of course." And Kyoko thought that would be the last time she'd see the tiny boy.

How wrong she had been.

The next morning, she almost dropped the mug in her hands when she found the boy on her counter, feet dangling off the edge in a casual pose.

"A-ah, heya, just thought I'd... drop by!" He'd squeaked out, nervous but still present and not fleeing. Kyoko was startled, to say the least, but she was definitely intrigued by the unexpected turn of events. So she quietly took a seat and nodded, waiting for the boy's next move.

"And, uh, about yesterday! It was pretty cool of you, so... thanks," he radiated off nervousness, yet he'd had the courage to come back, talk to her, and even force a small, polite smile. The detective girl was impressed and, admittedly, honoured. The brave gesture warmed her heart.

"It's alright. I'm glad you're confident enough to come now," a small smile made its way on her face. "My name is Kyoko." She looked away, and took a sip of her coffee.

"Kyoko, huh... Well, I-Im Makoto, nice to meetcha. So... Uh, wanna be friends?"

____

Heck yea! And now Makoto drops by now and then to chat and keep the detective girl from staying up too late brainstorming a case, and she sometimes spots him and drops a few words maybe even invites him to hangout sometimes and all in all they vibin. such good buddies!

Makoto dude you're so silly even a clumsy girl like Komaru wouldn't have gotten caught like that,, haha,, right,,,?

Hmm anyway I have a feeling I made them a lil too ooc n the end was rushed, but honestly I tried my best to fix what k could and I have no clue how to save the rest so I'll just leave it at this. I'm just happy bout borrower purest boo :ppp

#gtronpa #gt #tiny!Makoto #borrower!Makoto #human!Kyoko #giant!Kyoko #?#honestly idk #naegiri #writing #dr1 #danganronpa #Makoto naegi #Kyoko Kirigiri

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reyesstrand · 4 years

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not sure if I’m allowed to send another but, what about 85 for tarlos?

sorry for the wait for this, but this idea got in my head and it kind of got out of control — a good ending to this series, i guess!! i hope you enjoy!

prompt taken from this list. also available on ao3!!

Three weeks to the day after the solar flare, Carlos receives a cryptic text from his mom: come for lunch today?

He mulls it over; he loves his mother, and it’s no secret to anybody that knows him that he’s a total mama’s boy, but there’s got to be a reason behind her impromptu meal, and an evil part of his mind tells him it has to be bad news. She doesn’t mention anything about his sisters joining them, and Carlos doesn’t know if that should stress him out more or less. If it’s something bad, he’d assume that he and his sisters would find out at the same time — but that only leaves him more confused.

She’s a strong woman, and is a complete health-nut — ever since his abuela started having mobility issues, his mother’s been a champion for organic eating and natural sleep aids and doing yoga every morning. Carlos can’t put bad news from the doctor completely off the table, but he starts to drift towards the other countless possibilities — and so he can’t say no to her. Even if it’s his only day off that lines up with TK’s schedule, he spares a glance at his softly snoring boyfriend before figuring the man’s close enough with his own father that he’ll have to understand a shift in plans. And so Carlos finds himself more alert than he’d been when he’d rubbed sleep from his eyes and initially checked his phone five minutes ago, thumbs hovering over the screen before he sends her a simple of course, mami, and sets about getting ready for the day after pressing a quick kiss to TK’s hairline.

He’s showered and had his coffee and is trying to quietly get dressed when Carlos hears TK groan and grumble, clearly fighting between catching a little more sleep and getting out of bed. Carlos watches with a small smile as TK slowly sits up when he realizes he’s alone in bed, before their gazes catch, and his heart soars as TK’s eyes visibly light up at seeing him.

“Everything okay?” TK asks, voice still deep and groggy, and Carlos nods as he starts on buttoning up his shirt.

“We might have to change our plans today,” Carlos says apologetically. “I really—fuck, I really wanted to spend he day with you, but my mom wants me to come over and she usually doesn’t spring stuff like that on me unless there’s something wrong, and—”

“Hey,” TK cuts him off, and Carlos raises his brows at him. “It’s okay, seriously. Marjan’s been bugging me to take Buttercup to get some pampering, anyway.”

“You’re the best,” Carlos says, and TK grins at him.

“Damn straight.”

TK tilts his head up, clearly looking for a kiss. Carlos huffs out a laugh and comes in close, so their mouths are nearly touching, before he whispers, “You have no shame, do you.”

“Nope,” TK grins, eyes crinkling in the corners, popping the p before he closes the space between them and gets the kiss he wanted. “I’ll see you later, though?”

His eyes shine with hopefulness, and Carlos nods earnestly. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.”

There’s another brief kiss, before Carlos sighs as he presses their foreheads together.

“I hate just leaving on you,” Carlos admits, even though the thoughts surrounding what his mom’s intentions are with lunch are swirling around his mind.

“I’ll be fine,” TK says, ducking forward to press another kiss to the corner of Carlos’ mouth. “Say hi to your mom for me.”

It’s only half a joke — TK’s been talking, metaphorically, about meeting Carlos’ family for a week or so. He mentions it whenever Carlos talks about childhood memories or a story from one of his sisters, noting that Carlos has known his dad technically even before he knew TK. But it never evolves from a few jokes, and even though Carlos wants nothing more than to continue to make their relationship solidified through introducing each other properly to the people that mean the most to them, he doesn’t know how to seriously approach that subject.

Instead of trying now, Carlos leaves with a promised, “I’ll see you later,” before he grabs his keys and phone and makes his way out of his home.

The half-hour drive goes by mostly in a blur, because he’s too caught up in what might unfold at the lunch. They usually try to have big family dinners bi-weekly, due to everyone’s work schedules and his sister’s kids’ schedules, but he can’t remember the last time a meal like this was just dropped on him the day-of. He does have the right state of mind to stop and grab his mom a bouquet of lilies, her favourite, before he pulls up to the humble farmhouse he’d lived in his whole childhood.

“Is everything okay?”

The words are out of his mouth within seconds of stepping into the house, half-startling his mother as she pours out two glasses of sweet tea.

“Can’t I ask my favourite son to have lunch with me when I know it’s his day off?”

Carlos flushes a bit, handing the flowers to his mom as she pulls him in for a hug. “I’m your only son.”

“Still my favourite,” she grins, smacking a kiss on his cheek before she gestures toward the back deck. He follows her, taking a deep breath as he goes.

* * *

“I know something is up, baby.”

He'd been expecting something regarding her own well-being or health, or his abuela's, so when the conversation turns to him he's sort of confused. And Carlos has grown up hearing from people that he has his mother’s eyes, and as he looks into them now, he thinks he sees the similarities as she looks at him with a particular warmth laced with concern he’s been accustomed to since he was born.

“You know, I saw an interesting photo of you the other day,” she says it off-handedly, but Carlos still manages to choke on his drink. She doesn’t hesitate, going on to describe the picture he knows intimately because he posted it to his Instagram only forty-eight hours ago: him and TK, smiling as they stand close, too close to just be friendly to any onlooker, taken by Paul in the late hours of the night as they strolled around downtown after their shifts. He hadn’t even considered his family seeing the photo, and he silently rues the day his sisters made their mother various social media accounts so she could keep up with their lives. Her voice turns soft, as she squeezes his arm and asks, “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Uh, I have to pee.”

He says it quickly enough that he can run off to inside the house, where the remnants of their lunch sits scattered over the counter. Carlos beelines for the bathroom and leans against the sink as he pulls out his phone.

how do you feel about my mom knowing about you?

seriously.

Carlos sends the messages to TK and taps his phone against the heel of his palm as he waits for a response. He thinks back to his mother’s implications — that she knows about them, is okay with them — and figures that he could always lie. It’ll look suspicious as hell, of course, after he just fucked off like that, but he’s never really brought any boyfriends around before. Mainly because he’s never been in a serious enough relationship to warrant that. But he thinks — he knows that there’s something real between him and TK, and he wouldn’t hate his mom and eventually his sisters knowing about him and meeting him and welcoming him into the fold of their family dynamic. But he needs to make sure this is still something TK’s okay with, that it’s going at his pace.

TK texts him back quickly, like always. i was serious about wanting to meet her someday. maybe even soon. so if you want to talk about me i support you.

you’re sure? Carlos texts back, as he feels his nerves starting to both tamper off and confusingly grow at the same time as he walks toward the backyard again, preparing to let his mother into this part of his life.

100%. tell her only the good things, i wanna impress her, TK replies, along with a string of heart emojis. Carlos huffs a little, quickly typing out, she’ll love you no matter what, before pocketing his phone and sliding back into his seat across from his mother.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, meeting her eyes, and as he opens his mouth to continue, she quickly interjects.

“Don’t lie to me, Carlos,” she warns, though there’s warmth behind her words, a desperate plea to tell him that she wants to be included in this part of his life, no matter how new it might be. "You know you can talk to me."

So Carlos takes another deep breath, not really looking at his mother as he whispers: “I met someone, mami.”

He stares down at the ground; after a few seconds, he shifts his gaze to stare at the blooming gardens that live in clusters around the yard, various vegetables and flowers alike growing with vengeance as the summer welcomes them back into the world. When she makes a noise and he finally meets her gaze again, she’s looking at him with nothing but fondness.

“Oh, baby,” his mom is smiling, now, and she brings his face close to press a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s only been official for a few weeks but, um, I really like him,” Carlos admits, as his mother lovingly squeezes his hand. With a laugh, he adds: “I like him a lot. And I’d love for you to meet him.”

His mother leans forward and curls her arms around him, like she did when he was a kid and he felt too small to conquer the world, and he immediately feels calm wash over him. “I would love to, mijo.”

(Carlos has a flash of a memory, then, coming out when he was fifteen years old and terrified but desperate for his truth to be known. He first told his older sister Camila, and then his mother a couple of days later, and he remembers so vividly how they hugged his then-tiny frame, all knobbly bones and a height he was getting used to, both of them supportive and loving and adamant that nothing would change how much they love him. He towers over both of them now, but he feels protected in his mother’s arms, like he always has).

As they pull out of the hug, his mother elbows him good-naturedly. “Alright, tell me about this boy then.”

His mama’s grinning at him teasingly as she says it, and Carlos sits back and huffs out a laugh of his own, rubbing the back of his neck.

“His name’s TK. He’s a firefighter,” Carlos says, barely holding back a bigger smile when his mother makes an approving face at that tidbit of information. “He’s—he’s funny and beautiful and has the warmest heart.”

“I’m so happy for you,” his mother says, eyes bright with love, as if just listening to him talk about TK has made her realize how truly happy he is. And maybe it's allowed himself to look at inside retrospectively and figure out that yeah, he is happier than he's ever been. “I’m sure I’ll love him. You’ll have to bring him around.”

“I will,” Carlos promises, feeling like he’s floating on air. “Oh, and he’s from New York City.”

He says it pointedly, knowing his mother’s always wanted to travel to the Big Apple.

“Well,” his mother says, “I guess we’ll have to show your city boy how we do family dinners, then.”

She brings him in for another hug as she smiles, before she goes off to refill their glasses. Carlos sits back, considering the idea of TK being a part of his family, for good — and he finds that he wants nothing else in the world.

#tarlos #911 lone star #my fic #one shot collection #robronisendgame

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