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honeyhonest · 3 months ago

Text

minors do not interact, 18+ only

would anyone else have forced themselves into crowley's winter vacation or just me

✧˖°. a few weeks

warnings: gn!reader, reader is (ADULT) yuu, crowley sucks at flirting, oh my god it's awful, not proofread, reader is regretfully attracted to him, thigh fucking, cum?

length: medium. I'm not counting all that

"The answer is no, little Prefect. I simply haven't the time nor the means to keep you and Grim entertained!"

"I'll be fine, and I'll keep Grim entertained,"

"The answer is no!"

This had been going on all afternoon. As soon as your younger friends had vanished in a ripple of light and magic through the Dark Mirror, you had closed in on Crowley.

For all his grandeur (and height), he surely looked pathetic, curled in the corner of the room, waving a broom at you as if you were a pesky bird that had somehow gotten inside.

"Besides, if you come with me, who will tend to the fires? Who will clear the snow from Ramshackle's roof? And your homework? I'm sure I instructed Professor Crewel to give you more than- AH, I mean, to see to your education over the break!"

You roll your eyes. "There are plenty of students staying behind. The ghosts will care for Ramshackle, as they have for hundreds of years. And I can study while with you,"

"I doubt that," he murmurs, and you give him a glare.

"Ahem. It simply cannot be done. The room I've booked does not allow pets, and thus Grim-"

"They don't need to know!"

"The answer is no!"

And it begins again. Crowley, the thin bastard, slips by your side and backs towards the door, babbling about his deposit and pet fees.

"Besides, it will all be boring, dreadfully boring! I have much research and study to attend to, wouldn't you rather stay here, at school?"

"NO!" you shout, loud enough to echo off the walls of the chamber.

"You said this place may have something that could get me home. I want to be there. I'm perfectly capable of studying and researching myself!"

He grimaces. "I did say that, didn't I..."

His eyes, the golden flickers of light in the depths of his mask, vanish. For once, he seems to be giving some thought to you.

"...Very well," Crowley says, opening his eyes again. "I'll send word to Grim of the new arrangements. Be ready to leave promptly, Prefect, I don't like to be kept waiting."

You keep a firm hold on your lumpy suitcase (happened upon in a closet in your derelict dorm), and Crowley keeps a firm hold on you.

The Mirror spits you out somewhere sandy and warm, and your Ramshackle-appropriate attire suddenly feels sweltering. Crowley smiles, apparently pleased by your discomfort.

"I told you to pack for warm weather, my dear. Did I not?"

"I didn't have time to change," you sputter.

It takes but a moment for you to come to your senses, and your stomach drops. What's wrong? It's the feeling you have when you've forgotten something very important, and-

"Where's Grim?"

Crowley snorts, but doesn't answer. He takes a paper map out of his short pockets (ugh) and unfolds it.

You push it aside. "Where's Grim? You said you told him about the new plan!"

"Oh, but I did!" the Headmage chirps. "It's only that the "new plan", as you put it, did not involve him. How very sad! But I have already paid the deposit on my room, and the pet policy is very clear-"

"Crowley," you warn, fingers tightening around the weak edges of the map.

"Oh, relax, Prefect. He's in good hands! In fact, the Vice Housewarden of Scarabia, a perfectly charming and respectable dorm, has offered to care for him! I have also given him your cellular phone. If there are any problems, he knows to contact me,"

You pray that Grim remembers to contact Ace and Deuce.

As much as you want to hit Crowley with a crowbar, you know you don't have much of a choice here. You can't go back to school without him.

And he's-

"Now, where shall we start? Shall I drop you off at the local library, or the room? I have a full afternoon planned, after all,"

You can feel your teeth grinding against each other. Before you can answer (or tell him to take a long walk off a short pier), he chooses for you.

You were too mad to study, anyway.

It's a nice room. Not too flashy, but not too shabby, either. A table, a chair, a view of the parking lot. One bed.

The perfect sensible, moderate, budget room for a man like Crowley.

You're not really sure why you came here, anyway. Were you really going to study? Or were you only trying to prove a point?

Maybe raining on Crowley's parade makes you feel a little better about him flooding yours.

That's a little pathetic.

He left his suitcase in the room. You're almost tempted to go through it. What does a man like him pack for a tropical vacation, anyway? It's hard to picture him as a normal person who brushes his teeth and wears pajamas. He's always been a kind of monster in your imagination.

Well, not a monster.

Not any more of one than you are.

But something inhuman, who didn't quite think or sleep like you did. A judge's gavel, a gilded throne, a statue. Something imposing but immobile all the same. Something you talk to, because it doesn't listen.

Click.

Your fantasies of whatever mundane things are in his belongings close as the door opens.

Crowley comes in, not any less pale than before, but warm and smiley nonetheless, and holding two styrofoam boxes.

"In my bountiful generosity, I have brought you dinner!" he announces, handing a box to you. You take it.

"My, you look like you haven't been out at all. Mirror lag?"

"Sure," you say. What are you doing?

He sits at the edge of the bed and digs in. He either doesn't notice, or doesn't bother to mention, your unenthusiastic picking-about the food.

You're getting really tired of seeing his knees. Why does that bother you?

"Are you feeling tired?" he asks. "Unwell?"

You glare daggers at him, and he huffs.

"Is this about Grim? I made myself very clear! You were fortunate I so graciously allowed you to come! Break is one of the very, very, very, few things I have to look forward to in the year!"

You let him talk himself down, grumbling and griping between bites, until he's pleading.

"I can't possibly solve all of your problems, Prefect. I am trying,"

You glare. He pouts.

"Very well. Tomorrow, I'll be up at first light, and we can peruse the local library together. How is that?"

Better. "It's alright,"

Not really what you want to do.

"Excellent," he says. "And no more of this childish bellyaching! I expect more maturity from someone of your age, Prefect."

Of course. You watch him stand and take off his hat (ridiculous) and his shoes (ridiculous and full of sand). The mask and the gloves remain.

You should claim the bed now, while you still have the chance.

He shoots you a look. "And don't even think about hogging the bed. Might I remind you whom is paying for it?"

"Well, where else am I supposed to sleep?" you ask. You hate that he can tell what you're thinking now.

You've been spending way too much time together.

"I'm only asking you don't kick me out, Prefect," Crowley huffs. "I don't suppose you're tired, though, are you?"

Not really. "I guess not,"

He sits beside you. "Neither I,"

You pray this is not his way of asking if you want to play a game. The very last thing you need right now is to lose to this guy in cards.

He doesn't ask that, though. He doesn't say anything.

Crowley looks at you, he looks at his lap, he looks at you, he looks at his lap. You don't have to watch. You can feel the warmth of his eyes on you.

It's weird that you don't hate this. You're confused as to why you came, but you don't hate this.

Maybe you have heatstroke. But, then, you haven't left the room.

Something cold grazes your thigh. You stiffen, expecting to see cold rice from the takeout meal, or a leak in the ceiling, but it's-

"Crowley," you sigh, more annoyed than anything. "What are you doing."

He jolts, pulling his hand back to his side. "I-I was- I, ah- I was only-"

Man. This sucks.

He rambles incoherently for what feels like a millennia, saying random words like "time" and "bed" and "I thought-" in tandem.

Well, you're already here.

"Isn't this against some rule or something?"

"Ah," that seems to snap him out of it. "It would be, yes. But we're not on school grounds, and therefore, not under the jurisdiction of the school rules. I thought..."

"What?"

He goes quiet, as if rehearing whatever bullshit he's about to say in his head.

"...Perhaps... we may... er, enjoy each other... to pass the time,"

Awful. It's pissing you off how this is kinda turning you on.

"Well," you sigh. "When in... wherever we are, do as the... whoever do."

"What?"

"You can kiss me,"

Crowley understands that, at least.

Still, he takes his sweet time, slowly moving as if he's afraid he'll startle you. He cradles the back of your head, and you feel talons against your neck. His other hand restakes its claim on your thigh, and you both strangely maneuver around the beak of his mask (is he going to keep that on the whole time???) to kiss.

You can both tell that neither of you has gotten any action in a very, very long time.

His mouth moves against yours, awkward and slow, and you have to (annoyingly) moan to motivate him.

It seems to do the trick, though. He pushes you into the mountain of crisp, white pillows and pushes himself between your legs. He's already hard, and you can't even roll your eyes at it. You're turned on, too.

As annoying as he's been, this is the only night you've had without Grim or a teenage boy breathing down your neck. It feels like it's been years.

You should make the most of it. Even if it's with the Headmage.

He pulls away, panting, his mouth smeared plum from the rough kissing. You're sure yours is, too, but you'll deal with that later.

"Please, may I...?" he asks, tugging at your pants. Stupid things have to be drenched in sweat by now, it's so hot and humid here.

Not that Crowley seems to care.

You give him your blessing, and he undresses you, nearly moaning just at the sight of your body beneath him.

He's like, achingly hard at this point. You can feel his cock against your thigh as he sits himself there, sliding his gloved hands over your sides. He strokes your neck, threads his talons through your hair, never squeezing, never tugging, never rough.

He seems to only be enjoying the view, which is... somewhat satisfying.

"Are you ready, my dear?" he whispers, his voice weak.

Ready?? READY?

"Er... not tonight," you say, narrowly avoiding the question. "But, here, let me..."

You unbuckle his (normal, mirror-less) belt, and he moans. You can almost feel him twitching as you work him out of his shorts.

Note: He is not wearing underwear... Alright.

Using the (gratuitous, almost pornographic) amount of precum to slick your thighs, you let him push his cock between them. His entire body shudders, as if it's the greatest thing he's ever felt, and he fucks between them fast, talons dug into the crisp white sheets beside you, his body pressing down against yours with each sloppy thrust, and-

I wish I could say he lasts for more than a few seconds, but by then his cum has already painted your stomach, and he's trembling and panting as if he'd just run a marathon.

You wait for him to at least pull out from between the plush of your thighs.

"That didn't pass much time," you say. A whole six minutes.

Crowley smiles, too cheerful to even feign offense. "Ah-ah, I apologize, my dear. You were simply too beautiful to resist!"

Sigh. He can be charming... sometimes.

He even fetches you a towel himself, offering to clean you, to which you decline (he almost looks disappointed, but says nothing).

"Are you sure you would not like to fornicate-"

"No," you say, "Not tonight."

Crowley lies beside you, his chin in his palm, and he grins. "Ah... so I have something to look forward to tomorrow, then?"

"I wouldn't get your hopes up about tomorrow," you smile back. If only a little.

"We have a few weeks, after all."

#twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #dire crowley x reader

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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cold nights // part three

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is where it starts to get different (i hope!)

series masterlist // playlist

You saw two deaths in one day, and the games had not even started.

The local girl, who you didn't have the pleasure of learning the name of, had taken her final breaths in the arms of your mentor before he was dragged away. You hoped he was doing okay. And the girl from District Ten, Brandy. She had guts, you had to admire that about her- but killing an innocent was something you struggled to understand.

Coriolanus's classmate was only guilty of a cruel joke, and to you, that didn't warrant violence. However, the misdirected anger from your fellow tributes was valid. You just got lucky with Coryo as your mentor.

You spent your night reaching through the bars to pick weeds and flowers to place with Brandy while she slept. "For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause: there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life," repeating in your mind.

"It's my fault... It was my idea to get closer to the tributes but I didn't know this would happen." Coryo says, sat at the dining room table with his cousin and Grandma'am. He was sent home as soon as he was dragged out of the zoo, and he's not sure he had a coherent walk the entire walk home.

"You're just lucky your poet didn't do the same to you. Stay away. District people are a different breed, Coriolanus."

Tigris chews on her lip next to him, her cousin's arm wrapped around her back. "She's not a rebel, grandma'am. She's just a girl."

"No, I can see it in her eyes and the way she carries herself. That one hasn't been a girl in a long time." She shakes her head disapprovingly.

"You haven't met her, she won't hurt me." Coryo insists. "She's far too... gentle, unfortunately. At least Arachne's tribute would have done well in the games."

"It doesn't matter, Coryo." Tigris states. "If that's not who she is we can't force her. What do you think a change like that would do to someone?"

"I just want her to win."

"Dean Highbottom said that she doesn't have to win for you to get the prize."

"I know that." He mutters, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead with his free hand. "It's not about..." He stands up, pushing his hair back out of his face. "I have homework to do. Goodnight." And just like that, he's gone.

Come the morning, you were awoken from your slumber next to her no longer bleeding body by peacekeepers barging in with guns- one pointed at every last one of you. You backed away as they grabbed her, careless of her arms which you had delicately crossed, or the flowers you placed in her hair.

You were shackled alongside each other, and then forced back into the truck that delivered you to the zoo so recently.

"Don't be scared..." You whisper to the young girl on the bench next to you, watching as she cried, her pleas for answers going ignored by the others. "The world will be a better place tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Wovey sniffles, looking up at you as you reach up with tethered hands to brush her dark hair back from her face.

"Tomorrow." You nod, smiling at her sadly. You didn't know where you were going, but you doubted it meant anything good. You were supposed to have some more time before the games, but it's not impossible they would be moved in the fallout of the murders. Tomorrow, given your deaths today, would be a safer place for you both.

It wasn't a long ride before the doors were opened and you were all pulled out, and tied to a vehicle while Brandy's body was being hung above you. A parade? This was new, you were sure, you had never heard of such a thing before in the games as they were, although, no one from Twelve had ever returned to tell the story.

You were forced to walk alongside the vehicle as it moved, down an empty street and onto a much more populated one. You wondered if Coriolanus was there, until you reached your destination, and you heard his voice.

You didn't take Coriolanus Snow for a singer, but people shock you every day. There's a screen set up, and you can see him there. He looks uncomfortable, you can see in his eyes that he doesn't want to be there, but by now you've gathered that this is a funeral for his classmate; he likely wasn't given a choice.

You couldn't look at anything else happening around you. If you look at the casket in front of you, or god forbid the body hung above your head, you would burst into tears. This is what the Capitol deemed as justice for the loss of one of their young people- how did they think District people felt every year when their children were torn from them to face an eerily similar fate? The lack of empathy could make you ill. So your eyes remained locked on the blonde boy on the screen until the very end.

Coriolanus couldn't look at you. He knew you were there, all the tributes were. He took one look at you shivering under the metal that encased your wrists on bare skin, and he couldn't look back. You didn't do this to Arachne, you couldn't. Unfortunately, he's certain you wouldn't hurt a fly. To him, it felt unjust to drag you into this.

As soon as he was done and returned to his seat as chief mourner for a girl he didn't even like, he couldn't help but let his gaze track you again. You had tears in your eyes. He could see it even from a distance. You were scared, or you were saddened even by the funeral of a stranger. Your emotions were a mystery to him. You clutched your hands to your chest as you followed the car you were tied to, eyes glued to the ground at your feet as people simultaneously booed at you and cheered at the tribute hanging over your head- and he thought he was humiliated by having to sing. To be a spectacle in the Capitol was to be hated, and it was his job to make sure those same people would know you.

As soon as he was free from his duties at Arachne's funeral, he was headed back to the zoo. It took him all day, and the sun was set by the time he made it. "Y/N." He whispered, unable to see you in the dark as he approached the bars of the monkey cage. "Y/N?"

You had awoken to the footsteps, hearing your name being called in hushed tones as you sat up from where you were lying on the cold ground. You had just managed to fall asleep, Jessup had given you his sweater to use as some form of blanket as you laid your head on his stomach. You missed your bed, but body heat was helpful. You didn't think summer nights were truly this cold.

You got up, following your friend's voice over to the bars that separated you. "Coriolanus." You whisper, trying to smile. "It's late."

"Are you okay?" He asks, grabbing one of the bars in his hand and ignoring the cold burning into his palm.

"I'm just fine." You assure him. "I'm sorry about your friend."

"She wasn't my friend." He whispers back.

"Still. It was hard to watch, anyone with a heart would be hurt by what happened."

He remembers seeing you cry at the funeral, taking a sharp breath in. "Are you cold?" He asks, changing the subject.

"Only slightly." You answer. "Jessup gave me his sweater, and body heat helps."

Coriolanus squints as he looks past you, seeing the form of the boy lying on the ground, rolling onto his side now that you weren't using him as a pillow. "I brought you this." He whispers, holding up an old, torn-up afghan that he slung over the top of his book bag.

"I figured in that... dress thing you must be freezing out here. I couldn't sleep knowing you'd be out here shivering." He explains as you take it, unfolding the knitted material.

"Thank you, that's very considerate." You smile, quick to drape the small blanket over your shoulders. "Did someone make this for you? It's beautiful."

Coriolanus watches you pull it tightly around yourself, already trying to pull any warmth you can from the material. "I... I'm not sure." He says quietly. "It was a gift for my mother, it was meant for my sister."

"Well, tell your sister I say thank you. I'll get it back to you before the games."

"Oh... well, she doesn't need it." He chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck to quell the goosebumps forming there. "My mother died in childbirth. Neither of them made it. So now, we've just got this blanket..."

You frown, instinctively loosening your grip on the suddenly delicate material. "I'm so sorry, Coryo. That's awful."

Coryo? The nickname falling from your lips sounds like the spoon that stirs sugar into tea- abrasive for the breakfast table, but still very sweet.

When he doesn't respond, you continue. "The distance that the dead have gone does not at first appear- their coming back seems possible for many an ardent year."

"Why do you talk like that?" He asks suddenly, eager to discuss anything other than the death of his mother.

You smile. "It's from a poem. An ancient one." You explain. "I like to read, it's all I've ever really done. My ma taught me how, gave me all these old, old books with reprints of popular stories from way back when. They just... speak to me. People back then seem to have known it all."

"I've never read anything like that." He replies.

"That surprises me." You answer honestly. "Did you know you're named after a play?" You ask, sitting down now, careful not to let the blanket touch the dirty ground.

"Am I?" He asks, sitting down across from you without thinking much of it.

"Yes." You nod. "I quoted it in my goodbye to the District. I thought that was why you came to see me."

"I had no idea." Coryo says, smile tugging at his lips. "What a coincidence."

"Pray you, who does the wolf love?" You giggle, leaning closer so he can hear you better. "The lamb."

"From?" He asks, unable to resist the urge to smile any longer.

"The Tragedy of Coriolanus."

"Why is it a tragedy?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"Well, it's about this man named Coriolanus, who gets thrust into a position of power he isn't quite suited for. It's all he can think about, he's obsessed with it. He does well, he rescues the city, but his power and pride become his downfall, and he's banished by his own people." You explain.

"Oh. He doesn't regain their favour?"

"He dies at the end, 'cause he's betrayed too many. It's sort of sad."

"Sort of?" Coryo chuckles quietly. "He did so much for his people, is his death not a great loss?"

"His death is meant to be a justice for his actions, but I disagree." You whisper. "I think he was too far gone to be changed, yes, but I think if things had gone differently for him he would have made some better choices."

"Maybe." Coryo agrees. "But with a tragedy, doesn't that mean it was always meant to end that way?"

"People say that." You reply. "But I think the aspect of human nature has been lost in it. I think people can always change. Usually, it's circumstance that changes people into villains, so I think it could change them into heroes too. How do you know so much about tragedies if you've never heard of Shakespeare?"

"There's others, more modern stuff that they teach us here. No one likes to talk about history before Panem." Coryo answers. "But I agree. I think the idea of destiny is embellished, in some ways."

You hum in agreement, looking up at the sky. "There's not as many stars here."

"No?" He asks, taking a break from looking at you to look up as well. He's never known anything different than the very few stars they get, even on a clear night.

"No." You shake your head. "Back home, if you look up at night you couldn't count the stars if you were given a month to do it and a pencil to track it all down. There are thousands."

"Sounds nice." He whispers.

"It is." You agree, voice catching. You'll never go home and see the stars again, this is the best you would get for the rest of your life. You didn't realize the last time you saw the stars light up the sky that you never would again. You wish you had appreciated it more. You let out a shaky breath, deciding to look instead at your lap. There was no use in hurting your feelings anymore.

At the sound of your unsteady exhale, Coryo snaps his eyes back to you. He realizes at just about the same time you did what you were thinking about. "I'm sorry." He says after a few moments of silence, unsure what else he could say.

You just nod, reaching up to wipe your eyes. "I'll just miss it. I didn't realize until now that I won't get to see it again."

"You might." He tries to be encouraging, but the odds of you surviving are slim and he knows that. "I'll do everything I can to help you. I want you to get home."

"You would love it." You say, ignoring his sentiment because you know if you acknowledge it you'll start bawling. "There's a big open field by my house, when I was younger my ma would take us out there with a blanket in the middle of the night and we would lay down and look at the stars."

Coryo is quiet, just nodding as he listens to your story. "Sometimes my cousin and I sit on the roof of our apartment at night. We'll just sit out there and talk for hours, it's the best part of my day when we both get the chance." He tries to relate to you, he really does, but he knows that he could leave whenever he wanted and go sit with Tigris on the roof tonight. You don't have that privilege.

"You live together?" You ask, sniffling.

"Yeah. It's just us and our Grandma'am."

"That sounds nice." You smile sadly. "What's her name?"

"My cousin? Tigris."

"Tigris." You roll the name around in your mouth. "Will you tell me about her?"

"Well, she graduated a couple of years ago. She wants to be a designer, but there's not much of a market for that these days, so she works under someone else. Her boss is just awful to her, but Tigris gives it all she's got. She's got a real talent for it."

You lean forward against the bars as he speaks, resting your forehead on the cold metal and letting your eyes close. "I'm sure she's amazing."

"She is. She took this old shirt of my father's, completely remade it for me to wear to the reaping like nothing had ever been wrong with it in the first place. She even used the tiles in our bathroom to make these tiny buttons for it. It's really impressive. I think one day when I'm president, I'll get her a better job. If she even wants to work. She's been working for as long as I can remember to take care of me, I hope to return the favour one day."

"That's very kind of you." You yawn. "She sounds lovely. I wish I could have the pleasure of meeting her one day."

"If she's free, I'll bring her to say hello." He smiles, noticing you're already half asleep. The urge to reach forward, just a little, and push your hair away from where it has fallen in your face is near impossible to resist. Instead, he keeps talking. "She would love to meet you too, I know it. You are pretty much all we talk about these days."

"Me? Why's that?"

"You're just... unlike anyone I've ever met. Better, I suppose." He whispers. "And you're really important to me. I hope you understand that."

"I don't have to win for you to get your prize, right?" You ask quietly.

"No." He replies. "But I really hope you do. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I'd like to see you when you're not a monkey in a cage. As yourself."

You smile, cheeks flushing under the mask of the darkness that surrounds you. "Come, gentle night, come, loving black-browed night, give me my Romeo, and when I shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars." You whisper, so quietly to yourself he's not even sure he heard every last word, but god, did he long to. Only so many quotes and poems and words of your own would have the gift of leaving your lips. Your words were numbered- and as he could, he would cherish every one.

"What's that from?" He asks, leaning closer.

"Romeo and Juliet." You yawn. "That's my favourite. One day, you should read it."

"I will." He promises. And he'll think the whole time of you.

taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0

if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!

#tbosas #hunger games #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #snow x reader #snow lands on top

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somefanchick · 3 months ago

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-Kalim’s Love Language-

(This story is from Kalim's perspective anytime after the events of book four, but before book five. This does somewhat allude to events within one of the anthology books. I only know information from the English server story and events so sorry if anything is terribly out of character. I own no images. This fic is platonic and is cannon for my Yuu-sona, but I do just call them (Yuu) in the story [they/them]. Hope you enjoy!)

{I have been low-key fixating on love languages so I will probably do a headcannon dump later. :) }

TWST Masterlist

“Love language?” I looked at Silver from his place across the table.

I had gotten Riddle, Silver, and Ruggie together for another study session while Jamil was practicing for his big game at the end of the week. I wasn’t the biggest fan of studying so we got off track as soon as Riddle went to the bathroom. We somehow got on the topic of ‘love languages’, something that apparently Silver’s father had mentioned to him while having the ‘partner talk’, whatever that means.

“Yes, father said that there were five of them and while people typically like all of them, many people have a strong preference for a few of them,” He leaned back, “It’s just labeling how you show and receive love and care. While it’s typically romantic, it also applies to platonic and familial relationships.”

I leaned forward, “Really? So I have one?”

“No duh,” Ruggie spoke up as he finished the pastry I had bought him, “Your biggest one is obvious.”

“Really? What is it?” I smiled in anticipation.

Ruggie just stared before eyeing the bag the pastry had come in, “Gift-giving. Duh.”

“Really?” I tilted my head, “But if I have the ability to get you something you really need or want then why wouldn’t I give it to you? I’m not doing anything special.”

“I believe,” Silver interjected, “that it’s that attitude that makes it one of the biggest ways of showing care.”

“Yeah, plus-” Ruggie began chewing on another pastry I had bought, “Is there anyone on campus you haven't given something to?”

“I mean,” I really thought about it, “I haven’t really given anything to (Yuu).”

“What are we talking about?” Riddle rejoined the group.

“Love languages,” I smiled, “Apparently these guys think gift giving is my biggest one, but I haven’t even given anything to (Yuu).”

“That’s because it’s (Yuu),” Riddle sat at the table, “You can’t just give them things.”

That captured my interest, “What do you mean?”

“(Yuu) refuses anything they consider ‘charity’,” He rearranged the stationary and homework on his side of the table, “You always have to frame it as ‘repayment’ or something like that. They're stubborn like that. The only way we’ve been able to get things to them is by saying that ‘Trey made too many’ or ‘I was just going to throw this away’ or ‘I’m repaying you for something you did’. They’d never accept anything from you, Kalim.”

Something sparked inside my stomach.

Ruggie sighed, “Now you’ve done it.”

The feeling bubbled inside me.

This caused Riddle to tilt his own head, “Done what?”

I knew what I had to do.

“By the way,” Ruggie pointed at Silver, “Silver fell asleep like two minutes ago.”

What would (Yuu) want? That was a good question. They never asked for anything other than ‘peace and quiet’ or for people to ‘shut up and stop being stupid’. None of which were gifts.

I found myself looking out for them. Waiting for them to say something about wanting or needing something. Though it never happened. They never even complained or anything of the sort. They gave most of her lunch to Grim and the only things they bought when they went to Sam’s were for Grim, Ace, and Deuce. I thought about stepping in to pay for that stuff, but that felt like a cheap way out. I was determined to get something for (Yuu) themself.

Maybe (Yuu) would want something to improve Ramshackle. From what I could tell they spent almost all of their time there. The trouble would be figuring out what wouldn’t be ‘charity’. Riddle said that anything I gave (Yuu) they would think it was ‘charity’. So what would be the difference between a ‘gift’ and ‘charity’? Maybe practicality? (Yuu) did seem to gravitate towards practical stuff.

“You’re the best henchmen ever!” I snapped to reality as Grim cheered.

The two had clearly just come from Professor Crewel’s class and were now sitting on the railing in the exterior hallways. Grim was holding a quiz paper with a large ‘A-’ circled in red at the top.

(Yuu) rolled their eyes, “All I did was tell you my method for memorizing the ingredients of a Fire-Protection Potion. You’re the one that actually put the work in. That’s not my A minus, that is completely on you.”

“So,” Grim was beaming, “That means you think I did a good job?”

“I guess it does,” They smirked, “Congrats weasel.”

“I’m not a weasel!” Despite the protest I could tell he was happy with (Yuu)’s words.

Silver appeared beside me, “Hey Kailm. What are you doing?”

“I’m still trying to figure out what to get (Yuu),” I pointed at the Ramshackle pair, “But right now it looks like Grim got an A! He’s so happy, especially when (Yuu) told him he did a good job.”

Silver shrugged, “Maybe that’s one of his love languages,” he elaborated, “‘Words of Affirmation.’ Some people really like being told that they are cared for or that they are doing a good job. And many people like to express their love verbally.”

“Oh!” I beamed, “I get it! I like hearing that too. That's why I tell others how well they’re doing. ‘Cus if it makes me feel happy, I’m sure it works on others.”

Silver smiled, “Checks out. Though I can tell (Yuu) has a hard time accepting or giving out praise.”

“Really?” I watched (Yuu) closely as she kept their eye on Grim, “Why would anyone not want to be told they are amazing?”

“Well,” Silver tried to hold back a yawn, “Maybe that’s just not how they like it. (Yuu) is hard to read.”

“Well I understand that much,” I sighed, “it’s been two days and I couldn’t tell you a single thing they could want.”

I had almost forgotten that Jamil was coming to pick me up, “Come on Kalim, you’ve got a housewarden meeting.”

“Alright,” I smiled, “Keep an eye on them for me Silver, if they want anything I’ll need you to tell me.”

Silver had fallen asleep.

Maybe I needed to take a more direct approach. However, I still wanted to reserve some surprises. So I decided to approach Ace and Deuce. (Yuu) spent so much time with them that they had to know something they would want.

“Ace! Deuce!” I ran over to the freshmen while they laid in the courtyard, “Glad to catch you when (Yuu)’s not here. I have a question.”

“Why when (Yuu)’s not here?” Ace snapped his fingers as he sat up, “Oh is this about the love language thing Riddle mentioned?”

“Yeah, getting (Yuu) a gift-” Deuce sighed, “If you could figure out how to give it to them without tricking them then I'd be in your debt.”

Ace rolled his eyes, “They're stubborn. They’ll only take snacks from us if we bring them to movie night.”

I tilted my head, “You all have movie nights?”

“Oh yeah,” Deuce smiled, “We spend as much time at Ramshackle that Trey will allow us to. I think they enjoy the company, though they’d never say it. Plus it gives us all kinds of opportunities to try and slip them something they need but won’t get themselves.”

Ace pointed at his friend, “Remember when you tried to get (Yuu) to take one of your winter coats so you left it in the dorm over winter break. Only for them to give it back to you completely untouched when we came back?”

“You say that as if you didn’t do the same thing,” Deuce crossed his arms, “And then you decided to rent a horror movie to get back at them.”

“No! I just wanted a horror movie,” The redhead was almost pouting, “Besides, I didn’t see you complain when (Yuu) agreed to play a boardgame with us afterwards. What was your excuse again? ‘So I keep myself from having nightmares’.”

Deuce pouted, “Shut up Ace.”

I couldn't hold in my chuckle, “You have boardgame nights too? And (Yuu) likes them?”

“Yeah, I mean they stay,” Ace smiled, “Besides, I’d be able to tell if they were really bothered by us hanging around them all the time.”

Silver walked over, “I believe father called that one ‘Quality Time’.”

“Silver?” I smiled, “‘Quality Time’?”

“Basically means you like to be around the people you care about,” He sat on the well wall, “Could be talking with them about random things or simply sitting in silence. It’s just the fact you’re spending time together.”

“I love spending time with people,” Deuce stood up, “Makes me feel happy.”

Ace joined him standing, “You are such a sapp.”

“Oh shut it,” Deuce shoved him lightly, “You say that like you don’t like it too.”

“You mentioned they needed a coat?” I tried my best to focus, though it wasn’t easy, “Maybe I could get them one.”

“No point,” Ace shrugged, “If they wouldn’t accept one from us, there’s no way they’ll take one from you. Plus, now it’s not even cold enough to need one.”

“Right,” I bit my lip, “I’ll keep thinking about it. Thanks for your help.”

“Sliver down!” Ace rushed to catch the boy before he fell in the well, Deuce right beside him.

(Yuu) spent the next week working on some project for the headmaster. He had instructed them to take photos of some of the clubs in their ‘uniforms’. When they came to my club I took it as an opportunity to see if I could figure out what they might want.

“Kalim,” (Yuu) interrupted my train of thought, “Let me fix that. You don’t want to look like a mess on camera.”

They began fixing my collar and beanie, focusing mostly on the collar.

“Alright,” They finished with my collar and turned, “You’re next Cater. Once I get you all sorted I’ll let you play a few sets and snap some photos.”

They moved to work on Cater on the other side of the room.

Lilla appeared at my side, “Now that’s a good example of ‘Acts of Service’.”

“Oh,” I smiled at the junior, “did Silver tell you about those love languages too?”

He giggled, “We did have a conversation about them.”

“What does ‘Acts of Service’ mean?” I sat on my drum throne.

“Well,” He grabbed my drumsticks and handed them to me, “It means showing your care through helping others. Big things, like helping in dire situations. Or even small things, like making sure you look good in a picture.”

“So like how they were fixing my collar?” I lit up, “Or helping with Jamil’s overblot?”

“I’m sure some of that might have been out of necessity,” He put his hand to his mouth to hide his smirk, “But (Yuu) does let some of their care slip through the cracks. I’d reckon that ‘Acts of Service’ is one of their main love languages,” He then focused on me, “Say, Silver mentioned you were trying to find a gift for (Yuu).”

I leaned forward, “Do you have an idea?”

“Personally I’m a fan of catering to the other person’s love language, but when that can’t be done,” He closed his eyes to smile, “Then maybe try just giving something from the heart. They can’t say no then. Though I suppose that’s pretty cheesy.”

“Hm,” I watched (Yuu) as she finished working with Cater, “Yeah. Maybe.”

I picked something out. I honestly don’t know if they’ll like it. I just saw it in town when I went out with Rook and Epel. I just locked eyes with it and thought of (Yuu). So I bought it. That leads me to now. Jamil was at Basketball practice, so I thought it would be the best time to visit them alone. I knocked on the door.

“Hello?” (Yuu) opened the door looking dead on their feet, “Kalim? What are you doing here?”

“(Yuu)!” I kept smiling, “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” They opened the door, “Grim’s not here. It’s just me.”

“Well that’s good,” I came in, “Because I came here to see you.”

“Me?” (Yuu) led me towards the lounge, “What could you possibly want with me? If it is a favor then I’ll have to ask you to take a number. Crowely has me booked.”

“Oh it’s nothing like that,” I had kept the box behind my back, “I just wanted to-”

“Shoot, I forgot I have to-” suddenly (Yuu) stumbled, I immediately dropped the gift on one of the plush chairs and grabbed their shoulders.

“Are you okay?” I guided them to sit on the sofa with me, “Is now a bad time?”

“It’s fine,” they were struggling to keep their eyes open, “I’ve just been working hard with class and Crowely. Plus my insomnia’s been flaring up again. Don’t fuss over me. I’m fine.”

“I don’t think-” before I could finish my thought, I heard a light snore from my side.

(Yuu) had fallen asleep. Their head soon landed on my shoulder and their snoring faded into the sound of breathing calmly. I had never seen them so peaceful. They almost seemed like they were leaning into my touch so I slowly shifted them rest in my arms.

I had almost completely forgotten about the box on the chair. It was a book about the history of the Scalding Sands. I had seen them reading random history books and other non-fiction in the library or around campus, so I thought they might appreciate it. Plus I was going to give it with the promise to let them visit some time. I’m sure they’d want to see as much of the world as possible, seeing as they weren’t from here.

That seemed unimportant now. They seemed much too tired to do anything except stay in my arms. I remembered the last love language Sliver had explained to me, ‘Physical Touch’, showing care through physical affection or touch. I think I realized in that moment that despite how prickly (Yuu) seemed, that was probably their biggest love language. Just like how gift giving is mine.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst mc #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland drabble #twisted wonderland x reader #kalim al asim #twst kalim #twisted wonderland kalim #kalim x yuu #kalim x reader #kalim twst #kalim twisted wonderland #love langauges #platonic fic

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yuurivoice · 2 months ago

Note

Does sweet Pete exist in evalas cuz I can’t shake the feeling that evalas charlie works for him in some way shape or form 😭

There's literally an answer to "was x, y, or z character in Evalas" but y'all ain't done the homework or have not digested what Finneas is talking about.

But what I can say is...I haven't given two shits about Sweet Pete since I voiced him for a gag in Lost & Found. He would be an Easter egg at best. Sorry to rain on your parade, but I think I can do Charlie better than having him destined to work for Pete's goofy ass in every lifetime. 😂

Anywho...the explanation is alluded to in the content!

youtube

#yuurivoice #echoes of evalas

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intotherumiverse · 1 year ago

Text

★ ૮₍ ≧ . ≦ ₎ა 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 !!

ღ. synopsis ; one peice characters and the majors and trades they're in !

ღ. featuring ; luffy m. ; zoro r. ; sanji v. ; ussop ; robin ; nami ; chopper ; brook + bonus !

ღ. cw ; weed mention, cursing, shitposting

ღ. notes ; i haven't written in so long I forgot how to so this.... bare w me on this one !

luffy

luffy is an international relation major

all the professors love him and its defintely the only reason he's passing his classes

he has not one clue what going on (most of the time), head empty

also has really good finals grades

like its so surprising to see him pass with a low b high c average

he's really likeable, everyone and they momma wants to hang out with him

usally hanging out with sanji (bc he cooks) or zoro (caus he thinks he's cool)

he tutors with nami and robin sometimes (they're the only ones that can deal with him on the regular)

he's so silly and goofy i love him your honor

zoro

bussniess major but is never doing what he needs to do

classes? not in them. Homework? What's that? he is no where to be found and that should scare you.

he's somehow doing well in class and no one can figure out how he's doing it.

he's the captain of the fighting club (first rule of fight club? no talking about fight club) and he's good with members and running them

he hates the idea of hazing in his club and will kick you out if you try it

he has a special bond with one of the advisors given to him and he defends him like hell

he hangs around luffy bc he thinks of him as a little brother and wants to make sure he's alright

fights with sanji because he thinks its sooooo fucking funny

he's a regualar at the local bar to the point they don't even I.D him anymore they're just like "there's zoro."

sanji

definitely a food science major

he loves trying out new recipes and helping in the kitchen

sometimes when money gets low, he'll have a bake sale and they always do really fucking well

sometimes he'll take apprentenships for "fun" and so he's just racked up expirence in working in different places

his dream job is to have his own resturant where he can create his own dishes and not take any shit from anyone

also (because my sanji is a weed smoker not a cig user) will sometimes make weed pastries and they do so well when he sells them

would be outside on a smoke break but somehow never smells like weed its so crazy

would be the type of student to grumble and complain about homework but still do it anyway (he's just like me fr)

ussop

went to a shopworking trade school (his momma didn't want him to learn nothing after high school so she made him)

he found out later that he like working on different things and keeping himself busy

he also like gardening in his spare time

he's like really good at it and sometimes when his garden is too much for his family, he'll either give it to his neighbors or sell it in the farmer's market

his most frequent customer is sanji because sanji likes the freshest products avaliable

sanji askes him to hang out and try his recipes from time to time and eventually he makes friends with everyone

nami

earth sceiene major with minor in accounting

she is the the most ruthless student you'll ever meet

she don't take any shit from no one regardless of who you are, which is why she makes such a good tutor

she makes sure all her students get a good grade and because she tutors both zoro and luffy, she makes BANK

she also is the pretty girl on campus and all her friends pretty too !

hair done, lashes done, lashes done, face card don't decline, body tea !

she loves hanging out with the group but she'll never tell you that but everyone knows she cares about her people

she's lowkey scary

she isn't afriad to curse you the fuck out when you piss her off

fiercely loyal my girl nami is badddd

robin

history major with a minor in english

knows everything about everything and is one of the best tutors of the campus

she's kinda shy (mostly cause she doesn't like people but she's trying)

luffy thought she was cool and just kept bothering her until she reluctantly accepted

she's a real history buff and can debate her history like no one else

once got into it with zoro for a peice of random history

chopper

struggling medicene major

he looks stressed at all times and somehow is keeping a 4.0 gpa

luffy and zoro will come over with brusises and he just takes one look at him and sighs deeply

he helps in the nursing home with the doctors because he feels happy when people are treated

he doesn't like when people treat him or others differently so he's such a big advocate for anti discrimination against anyone

he likes helping people that most doctors would ignore and people hate him for that

he's not good at taking compliments so its funny to see him react to the compliments

he loves sweets and he loves when sanji makes them so he's always first in line at sanjis bake sale

he's so cute and small your honor

frankky

mechanic (trade school)

a literal grease monkey

he's always making something in his garage and

he makes custom peices for his friends and even sold some to some of the rich kids

besides that he's really cool about things

he's co chill about everything and help fix things whenever the crew needs it

all in all a cool dude

brook

old ass music head

he's one of the best musicains and he's so casual about it

he's a allumi for the school and he takes students every year to train them and teach them what he knows

he only takes like 5 students a year so the spots are very competative and very hard to get into

hes so chill otherwise

the type of mentor to call you out on your bullshit but still

extra little bonus scene!

the gang goes to Jinbe's resturant every week after all they're classes. Luffy had stumbled upon it one day and he just slowly started to get his friends to go their and that's just become their hangout spot since then. Jinbe pretends to hate when they come over but in all actuality, he loves talking to them and getting to know them as a group and as individuals. he loves their energy and will make sure they eat well and they're getting good grades.

no tag list for now but make sure you're supporting the people that are spending time making works for your entertainment !

@rynfiles ; @strawhatkia

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ultralightpoe · 29 days ago

Text

Past Sorrows - Bucky Barnes

Authors Notes: Y'all I have a HUGE folder of works that I haven't published because I feel like they suck and I just sit in this never ending battle of rewriting and rewriting and.... Okay y'all get it. -Ultralightpoe

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: None> Maybe a bad word.

Description: Inspired by Meet The Robinsons

Main Masterlist - - Marvel Masterlist

Past Sorrows - - Next part SOON

[Thank You For The Gif @sniktya ]

Enjoy! [I HATE THIS BUT IT'S GOTTA ESCAPE MY DRAFTS Y'ALL]

“I've about had it with this same conversation over and over young man.”

The words probably would have held a better punch if James Buchanan Barnes hadn’t heard them nearly every week since the school year had begun, they probably woulda stung a bit more if he had actually liked the person that was currently speaking those recurring words. But truth be told he was tired, and bored, of sitting in the wooden chair across from the principal of his school. He was tired of getting crammed into detention nearly everyday in punishment.

Bucky Barnes was tired.

It wasn’t even his fault, none of this was, not that any adult around him actually seemed to give a damn about his predicament.

It had been a year since his father died, a year since his mother had forced herself to go back to work so that her and her children could afford food and clothes. A year since Bucky had picked up morning duty for his sisters in order for his Mother to make it to the job that fed them on time. The only problem was….. well his sisters ran on their own time. They acted as if the clock on the wall was non-existent when it came to their mornings.

Rebecca loved to wait until the last minute for her homework, somehow managing to just get it done by the time he drags her to the door. And June Bug could never make up her mind on what to wear, anything he offered was taken as an insult and any help not given was an abandonment in her eyes. The oatmeal he made was always just a little burnt and the arguing was always just a little bitter.

But it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. They were family and these were his baby sisters. They needed him, his man needed him. And their needs trump all.

The school? They did not agree with this argument.

Matter of fact they seemed to think they were the most important thing in this damned universe.

“I already told ya’,” he snaps, trying not to show too much attitude, choosing to grip the sides of his chair instead. “My ma’s job puts us on a late start.”

“James.” Principal Figs sighs, shaking his head in the slow condescending way that sets a flush of anger through Bucky’s skin. “I’ve tried talking to you about better options. The bus. A shared ride. Calling your mother about your attendance. We need to figure out, you cannot keep missing half your English class. You hear me boy?”

Loud. And. Clear.

But it’s not like Bucky could argue, what was he supposed to say that would ease this situation? The truth?

“I can not come in early cause my Ma’ leaves 2 hours earlier than we wake up and my sisters get a later start in school.” Next thing you know the adults at the school begin to get suspicious and look into the family. Or as Garrett Figs liked to explain it, they want to see if your parents are fit to keep you.

And Bucky refused for there to be pressure on his Ma, refused for anyone to look in at the picture they didn’t understand and judge their family. He refused the risk of someone tearing them apart, putting his sisters in one of those overcrowded foster homes that ran with diseases. Serving the kids broth soup every night just to make ends meet.

It’s not like their family had done much better, no one had anything in this depression, but they had family and he would be damned if that was taken from him.

“I’ll look into it.” He amended, his voice straining at the lie as his eyes seemed to burn while he forced himself to make eye contact, wanting nothing more than to look for the exit. Wanting nothing more than to just be free of this damn office. “After losing Pa we just have struggled to find a schedule that works. I’ll see if I can share Stevie’s ride. I promise.”

And with that simple lie he was released from this damn office. His shoes hitting the wooden floors beneath him with sharp thuds as he snatched up his school books, keeping them on his hip to maintain an unbothered strut as the bells above rang out sharply and bodies filled the hallways with a speed of desperation.

It was always really easy to spot Steve Rogers in a crowd, like a flock of birds gathered around the chick. People tended to split in order to avoid damaging the smaller body.

“Stevie!” He called out, sending an awkward half smile to Tracey Potts, whose cheeks were tinged with red as she tried to step up to Bucky, her plaid blue skirt swishing a bit. Something about Tracey Potts? She always looked her best, from the perfectly bouncy hair that reached her shoulders always paired with a perfectly tied bow.

She was a real pretty dame. Only problem? Her older brother was a real scary guy.

“I’m in just a bit of a rush Doll-” He chuckles lightly, swerving a bit to avoid the hand that reaches for him right as Steve snatches his shoulder in what Bucky was sure was meant to be an annoyed grip.

“Buck. You missed half of class.” His pal scolds, moving to the side for him to follow and leave Potts behind while they walk to the exit. “Again.”

“It was important. Principal Figs was not to keen on me missing class this morning.”

“So in being mad about you missing class he pulled you out of a class you actually need to pay attention to?” Steve raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. “You wanna borrow my notes?” “This is why we were put together pal.” Bucky smiles, stopping his pace to allow Steve to pull the notes. “As my old man always says, Keep Moving Forward.”

It isn’t until Steve gives him a look of devastation that he realizes his slip up, when his friends blue eyes cloud with a sad sort of gaze and his eyebrows pinch together as his mouth twitches into a frown.

“Said…..” His voice is hoarse, which he quickly clears before standing a little straighter and swiping a hand over his gelled hair. “My old man always said.”

“Here you go, Buck.” Steve hands off the journal, buckling the book strap to keep everything together and placing his pencil above his ear.

“Means a lot, Pal.” Bucky smiles, nodding. “I’ll try not to let Junie Bug stain these ones.”

He had felt so guilty about the last packet of notes Steve let him borrow, after they had been put through the ringer by Junie and the tomato juice left in front of her. After an overdramatic bit of yelling and fighting with his ma, and a nice slamming of his bedroom door he was left to try and fix the notes only to make em worse. He had felt guilty for losing his temper on Junie, for leaving the tomato sauce on the table and for yelling at his ma. He felt guilty about Steve’s notes and being late for school and….

Bucky was just so tired.

“You know, I think the world of Junie and her art.” Steve laughs before he is roughly shoved, his chin meeting Bucky’s shoulder as they both do an awkward shuffle to catch themselves. Steve was of course the better person, mumbling out an apology while Bucky took the lead and stepped in front of his friend.

“Watch where you’re going!”

The group pays him no mind, charging ahead while Steve merely shakes his head. “You feelin alright Buck? You’ve been…. I’m just worried about ya pal.”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Was he okay?

“Do…. Stevie, you ever feel like….” The words die out, his throat tightening as he tries to form the question on his tongue. Maybe he is worried that the second the words come out then the entire world might fall apart around him? Maybe he just isn’t quite ready to admit it yet. “Do you ever feel like there is nothing worth fighting for? Just a never ending life of struggling to make ends meet with nothing to really show for it? Stuck.”

Steve had a habit of seeing too much and seeing nothing at all. He could take a look at you and see all your insecurities and everything you could be. And in the same hand he could also be staring down the barrel of a gun and not see doom in it. He was a fighter.

And Bucky didn’t think he was.

Because….. Bucky was just so damn tired.

His friend struggles for a response, but the shame and dread had already claimed Bucky’s movements. “Nevermind pal. I just think I’m in desperate need for a nap.”

It’s rough to force a laugh out, slightly pathetic how much energy it takes, and yet when he pulls his hand up to check his watch, shock and panic is all he finds himself swimming in. “Is it really 3:30. Damn it all-”

He gives Steve one last smile before sprinting off, taking the streets of brooklyn as fast as he could to get to his sisters school.

He would never make it on time, always late. Late to school, late to work, late to pick up his sisters. It seemed he’d never have enough time these days.

All he could do was run, and hope Junie Bug didn’t get too impatient by the time he arrived.

Junie Bug HAD gotten a little impatient waiting for Bucky. He managed to make it at only 5 minutes late, but she was already glaring when he came running up, completely out of breath and red in the face.

“Sorry Junie. Sorry Becca.” He panted out, hands on his knees. The apologies had fallen on empty ears, both sisters walking ahead to ignore him, just as they did the entire walk home. They ignored him while walking up the stairs to the apartment and they ignored him when they rushed to their shared bedroom and slammed the door in his face.

It stung, he hated being outcasted by his best girls, and even though he hated when they forced him to play dolls he could hear them in their room giggling over it all and suddenly that’s all he wanted to do.

But at the moment he would use their anger to complete some work, the best idea he could. So, with them giggling down the hall, he took to mopping the kitchen floor. Dusting the living room, making sure his room was picked up before doing his homework at the table. But the entire time he copied Steve’s notes all he could think of was just how…. Lost he was.

He couldn’t seem to win anything. They couldn’t afford anything, he was less brother and more a half assed parent figure to his sisters, no dames in his future and Stevie’s heart risked his health. It felt like there was just this black cloud that had clung to his shoulders and was pushing him down.

“Oh come on Buck.” He grumbles to himself, shaking his head and slapping at his cheek a bit. “Snap out of it.”

He was just being dramatic, that’s all. A bad day in a bad week. Once he got some rest it would all be better and ma would be home soon.

Keep moving forward.

The sharp trill of the phone went off, and he could hear his sisters door open down the hall, and once he picked up the handle of the phone and placed it to his ear he already knew just what he would hear.

“Buck. Baby.” His mother greets, sounding so tired even through the phone. “I gotta stay late. You think you can feed the girls and get them to bed?”

A moment of silence passes as he fights off the disappointment, closing his eyes and leaning his head on the wall of the apartment. “No problem ma.”

The words rang empty, missing the usual tone of life he tended to carry. “I’m so sorry bubs. This is the last time, I swear it.”

She had said that every day this week, but he couldn’t blame her. They were all struggling, right?

“It’s no problem, ma.” He tries to sound happier again. “Just…. Keep moving forward.”

“Thank you Bubs.” She sighs, making a kissing sound before hanging up and leaving him to turn to his sisters, both watching them from their doorway.

“Pasta?”

He would have laughed at the way they groaned simultaneously if he wasn’t so sick to his stomach.

“I just need you to be quiet.” Someone seethes, the sound waking Bucky up from a deep sleep, forcing him to blink quickly as he struggles to push the fog from his brain. Reaching a hand up to rub at his eyes, while he tries to pick up on what exactly is wrong.

Nothing is out of place in his room, he can see everything by the light of the streetlamp outside the window, and the only thing out of normal was that he almost always shut the blinds before he hit the bed. But he had barely managed to make it to his room before he passed out sprawled across the sheets. Drool stained his pillow and he was still in his school clothes.

But something was off. Really really off.

“Shhhh!” The voice rang out again, and he must have woken up to the sound of Becca and June sneaking in for snacks past their bedtime, trying not to wake up Ma. Nothing but little trouble makes, and with a shake of his head she struggles to lift himself out of the bed, heading to catch them in their act before he stops short once more. “You’re gonna wake them. Can you stop?”

There was in fact a problem after all, because that was a male voice and Bucky only lived with females. Someone was in his home.

The first thing he could think of was to grab the bat that sat in his closet, keeping a firm grip on it as he reached for the door handle, only to see that it was already twisting on its own. With his heart racing he managed to stumble back, nearly cursing himself out for the sound as the handle paused and he forced himself to hold his breath, shaking as he stared at it so hard his eyes began to water.

A pause, the handle stuck in it’s half twisted motion, and all Bucky could do was worry about his sisters. Had his Ma made it home? What if something happened to her? What if these guys already stopped in his sisters rooms? What if what if what if…..

But the moment of anxiety and stillness passed, and whoever was on the otherside must have deemed him silent enough to continue. Turning the handle and pushing the door open slowly as if afraid it might creak. Bucky knew it would creak once it passed the 8th floor board past where his rug ended, and he knew if he stayed behind the door he would be able to catch whoever it was by surprise.

And within moments the intruder took a step into his room, casting a look in the direction of the bed before going still once he saw that it was empty, only there was no time for reaction before Bucky was upon him. He swung the bat, enjoying the sound of the thud and the cry of pain that came from the intruder as they stepped back holding their side and managing to just barely dodge the second swing. By the third Bucky was beginning to lose balance, and the intruder had managed to catch theirs, snatching the bat and holding it tight and twisting until Bucky had tripped over his own rug and hit the ground.

“Oh, I’m in so much trouble.” The voice rang out, and Bucky couldn’t fight off the anger anymore.

“Hell yeah you are!” He yells, kicking at the figure's leg to trip them before launching to sprawl over them and try and get the advantage. It was a struggle, once Bucky got a hit in so did the intruder. “Who the hell are you-”

A fist comes up to meet his face, instant pain spreading through as Bucky throws his weight back and tastes the iron.

“You’re in danger- You have to listen to me here!”

“You came into the wrong house pal-” He spits out some of the blood, launching back into the figure with all his weight until they hit the bookshelf on the wall, managing to break it all.

“Damn da- dude.” The figure coughs, kicking him back and pulling out something Bucky didn’t recognize. “I don’t want to have to do this.”

“Oh buck up.” And he swings his fist, hitting them square on before rushing to grab his bat once more.

“It’s flesh….. Your hand is flesh….”

An odd thing to say, and Bucky would have had a great comeback if he wasn’t thrown back by a crazy explosion, knocking him into his bedroom wall and effectively hitting his head. And he must have hit it hard…. Because there was a green creature staring down at him with a terrifying smile. Sharp teeth and drool hanging down from his jaw as his taloned hands reach to grab something at his hip. Pulling out a jagged glowing blade.

“Doom denies this line.”

“WATCH OUT!” And just as the blade was pushed down and about to pierce into Bucky’s chest the figure managed to stop it, hand shooting out until blood was dripping down onto Bucky’s face and a cry of pain shot out in the dark of the room. But another blast of light and it all went wrong.

“You’re in so much trouble when they find out.” A voice bites out as Bucky is once again forced awake, this time nearly being blinded by a light as he covers his eyes with a hand. “Oh great. He’s awake.”

“I can see that Franklin. Thank you.” The voice from earlier quips, and Bucky manages to adjust to the light in time to see a young boy around his age slap the shoulder of the one next to him. “Okay, don’t panic.”

Panic.

“Where the hell am I?!” Bucky cries out, jumping up from where he had been laid out and pushing to run for an exit, only to realize that there were no exits. He was fully trapped in…. What the hell was this place?

“Okay da-dude. Bucky, James, sir.” The figure from earlier rushes out, moving to step in front of Bucky, which just makes him step back and trip over a chair in order to avoid him. His back hits the floor and before he knows it a black haired boy is staring down at him.

“I don’t know about you but he doesn’t seem to be enjoying this.”

“Franklin, back off.”

“Oh come on.” The kid huffs, reaching a hand out and extending it down. “Franklin Richards. And I’m assuming you are Bucky Barnes.”

“Assuming?”

“More than that. We were sent out to… This is my companion Beck Ba-”

“Barton! Beck Barton.”

“He thinks he’s cool.”

“Kiss my ass Franklin.”

“Ohhhhh I’m telling your dad you just cussed.”

“Yeah and I’ll tell your mom you stole the ship!”

“Then I’ll tell your mom you hacked into a Latverian tech-”

“And then I’ll tell her you broke the memory scanner.”

“YOU BROKE THE MEMORY SCANNER!”

“NO YOU DID!”

“LIAR! I WENT TO USE IT AND YOU SLAPPED IT OUT OF MY HAND!” Franklin yells, his hands moving with the yell. “I told you Beck, he needs his memory wiped or going back and saving him won’t matter.”

“He… he just almost died.”

“And you think your mom and dad are going to be happy about you nearly getting gutted over this.”

“What do you propose now? We don’t have your dads tech and it’s not like we can bring him back to…..”

“We have to, we can’t leave back in his time without wiping what happe-”

“Can someone tell me…” Bucky tries to intervene.

“Not now.” Franklin snaps while Beck merely turns to him slowly, a guilty look on his face. It’s then that Bucky sees his left arm is bandaged and the shirt he currently wore, far too tight and must be an undershirt for a button up, was covered in blood.

“Well…. We are from another time…..” He begins, blinking slowly. “A futuristic time. And we got… intel- which means intelligence-”

“I know what it means.”

“On a man we call Dr. Doom sending out some agents- which are people that work under him-”

“I gathered that, thank you.”

“Anyways, he sent them out to ruin the timeline of our earth. You were one of the targets.”

“Why was I a target? What do you mean our earth?”

“He was aiming to split the timeline before the war hit.”

“Let me go home. My ma…. My sisters and stevie.” Bucky pleads, trying to stand up, slapping Franklin's still outstretched hand away and trying to find an exit again. But it was terrifying, there were screens lighting up just about every surface. Cushions that not even the president could afford on the chairs, and the finest metal holding it all together. And the one opening there was held…. Space beyond it. Nothing but space.

And it took all of two seconds for Bucky to get sick, leaning over to puke onto the floor as both boys stepped back.

“Okay let’s try this again.” Franklin groaned. “Here is the thing, you were targeted by Doom. He wanted to break a timeline, you don’t need to know why. All you need to know is that Beck and I saved you and our time machine is…. A bit on the fritz so we have to wait before we can travel home to get you all fixed up and this can be right as rain. You understand?”

“What’s home?”

“Home is…. 90 years…. Give or take.”

“2029.” Beck answers, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry?” Bucky was going to be sick again, he just knew it. “It’s 1938.”

“Oh….. I’m in so much trouble.” Beck sighs, closing his eyes before opening them to glare. And it’s an odd thought that Bucky gets when he stares at the boy in front of him, who should be around his age, that he was just a child. Like his little sisters. He could see the fear and the guilt eating away at every expression. Like he knew him already.

“Alright Beck Barton….. What do you need from me?”

“I just need you to know that when our parents kill us that I am gonna blame you the entire time.” Franklin seethes as he turns to look over his shoulder to where Bucky Barnes was currently staring out the window in pure shock. “Your dad more so. Oh your dad is going to be so pissed.”

“The plan is neither of our parents finds out.” Beck groans. “They can not see him, you understand?”

“Got it. Operation keep Bucky Barnes hidden from the Barnes Family is underway.”

[Oh I am already regretting this but like I said it needed to be free from the drafts. My draft folder is way too packed of stuff I keep rewriting. Someone save me pls. -Ultralightpoe]

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ros3ybabe · 1 year ago

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To Do - 3•24•2024 🎀

Today is Sunday, and my day off of work and of course, no classes today either. It is already 1pm as I've spent the morning procrastinating/planning some upcoming things. I haven't done anything that I've wanted to yet, so I figured I'd make a small to do list post to give me more motivation and some accountability.

🩷 Today I Need To:

complete kinetic prt 4 chemistry homework

pre class prep chemistry lecture

order groceries/other essentials

plan/prepare for the week

get an extension on an assignment due tomorrow night (I work most of tomorrow)

keep job searching for a new/second job (summer, etc)

🩷 Today I Want To -

wash my sheets, pillowcases, and towels

put away all my clean laundry

make dinner for the week

make a payment towards my insurance premium

clear odd and organize my desk

take out my trash

clean my bathroom minimally

I feel like I might be pressed for time, given it's past 1pm now and me and my boyfriend are having a *movie date* over video call later today (our first date of the new year, finally).

I'm also planning on beginning a new morning routine tomorrow, which I may also make a post about because it'll help keep me accountable with my efforts, give me a place to see the routine steps, and could hopefully help motivate others!

til next time, lovelies 🩷

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hippiegoth97 · 1 year ago

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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 3

Collage by me :)

Masterlist

Pt. 2

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Swearing, smoking, light smut, drug use, angst, anxiety, mentions of vomit

Word Count: 4.8k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 3: Get Nervous

Sunday, March 12th, 1989

Sunday. Fucking Sunday. You've been dreading this all weekend. It’s the final day of the Hellfire Club campaign, and you also have a paper due for biology. You didn't mean to put it off, but a certain sexy metalhead has distracted you this entire time. You don't blame him, you didn't tell him you had homework. You're sure if you just said so that he would've let you focus. Given the length required for your paper, you decide to tell Eddie you can't sit in today. You don't want to spend all night rushing your work. You could easily write a passable essay over the course of the day.

"What do you mean you can't watch the end?" Eddie asks, surprised you'd deny him your company.

"It's nothing personal, baby. I promise. I just have a big essay due tomorrow. I should've mentioned it earlier, but I didn't want to ruin our fun. Though I think I've done that now anyway." You look down at your hands, leaning against the entry to the livingroom. Eddie's standing close to you, playing about with the hem of your shirt to tease you. He lifts your chin up with his finger.

"It's no problem, angel. I understand." He smiles kindly at you, but his eyes still read as hurt. He knows you'd sit in if you could, but he can't say he won't be missing you the whole time. Even though you're just going to be down the hall, all he'll want to do is run to you and never let go. "Who knows, maybe you'll finish early, hm? And then you can come see me." He says lowly, leaning down for a kiss. Your lips meet, and you wrap your arms around him. You pull him close, moving your mouth against his gently. He's so addictive, the taste of tobacco on his tongue makes you want to never stop kissing him. But it’s already 11am, you'd all slept in late so you have to get moving.

You break away from him, and he whines. "Eddie, relax. I just need time to write a decent paper so I don't fail, okay?" He nods, pouting playfully. "Believe me, I'd rather spend the day with you. But I can't let my grades slip. If I do, Mom will have a cow. And then she might not be so keen on me seeing you." You poke a finger into his chest.

"Are you saying I'm a bad influence, baby?" Eddie asks slyly. He enjoys being a rebel just a little too much sometimes. You roll your eyes.

"You just might be, Munson. Now come on, go tend to your club. And I'll be in my room. You can come check in on me when you're done if I haven't finished yet." You give him another quick kiss, and turn away to go work on your paper. You hear him let out an annoyed sigh, rolling your eyes again at him being so childish. You walk into your room, already regretting sticking to your guns about your assignment. You close the door, but leave it unlocked in case Eddie comes to you later on. You put your record player on, music helps you concentrate. You keep it low so as not to disturb the campaign, and you begrudgingly open your notebook to begin writing your paper.

Hours go by, and it's almost 6pm. You haven't bothered to look at the clock much, you just want to get this damn assignment done. You have about two pages left, but your hand is starting to cramp up. You flex your fingers to relax your sore muscles, when you hear a knock on the door. "Y/N?" Eddie calls to you. "The game's over, Erica claimed a victory for everyone. I'm gonna take the kids home, but I'll be back, 'kay?" You jump off your bed, running to open the door. You're greeted by Eddie's smiling face. "Hey there, beautiful. How's the essay coming along?" He leans against the doorframe, looking you up and down. Your hair is a mess from running your hands through it constantly. It’s one of your nervous tics. His expression drops slightly, worried about how your assignment has been treating you. "You doin’ alright?" He asks, reaching for your hand.

"Yeah, it's just kinda stressing me out. But I only have two pages left. It's not very good, I'll probably only get a B on it. I'm having a hard time concentrating." You downplay the situation, ignoring the alarms going off in your head. For some reason, this paper is kicking your ass. You can't help your anxiety overtaking you, your body begins to tremble uncontrollably. Eddie squeezes your hand to comfort you.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to be so wound up. I'm sure it's a good paper, it'll be okay." He puts his other hand on your shoulder to steady your tremors.

"I guess. I keep reading it over, but it all feels jumbled now. And my eyes hurt." Your breath shudders, and you pinch the bridge of your nose as your eyes squeeze shut. You feel one of your infamous migraines coming on. Perfect. Those last two pages will really be a challenge now.

"Hey, hey. C’mere, babydoll." Eddie pulls you into him, holding you close. Your arms wrap around his middle, and he strokes your head. You try to focus on him so you can steady your heart pounding in your chest. But you can't calm down, you're having a full-blown panic attack. You feel silly having one over a stupid essay, but you can't do poorly on this. You won't allow it. You cannot fail. Ever. Your breath comes out rapidly, chest rising and falling as you wheeze. Eddie loosens his grip, looking at your face. You've gone pale, like you might faint. "Shit. Are you alright? What can I do?" The worry in his eyes only exacerbates your anxiety. You're hyperventilating, and your head feels light. Eddie picks you up in his arms, carrying you to the bed. "I-I don't know what to do, Y/N. I'll get your mom. Just try to breathe. Fuck." His own voice is shaky now, you've scared him. He runs out of the room to the kitchen, frantically telling your mother what's happening.

You hear multiple sets of footsteps rushing down the hall to you. Eddie, Mom, Dustin, and all the kids file into your room. Mom and Eddie help you sit up, you feel like you're going to pass out. You can't steady your breathing, it’s as if you're suffocating. Mom holds out a paper bag to you. "Honey, we gotta get your breathing steady, okay? So just try to breathe in the bag for me. And then I have a Valium you can take to settle your nerves. It'll be okay, sugarpuff. We're here for you." You take the bag, inhaling and exhaling as best you can into it. It seems to be working, your breath slowly returning to you. You hate having everyone staring at you like this, you must look like such a freak. You wish they'd all go away, and leave you alone. You put the bag down, and Mom hands you the pill and a glass of water. You down it quickly, chugging the entire glass.

"Take it easy, angel." Eddie advises, stroking your arm. Mom takes the glass from you and walks out, quickly shooing the others away. Eddie stays with you, holding you close again. You're still trembling, but your heart slowly regains its normal pace. "Do you want to lay down, sweetheart?" He quietly asks. You just nod. He lays you down, caressing your cheek as you position yourself on your side. "Is there anything I can do?" You shake your head, feeling a tear escape one of your eyes. He tuts, wiping it away. "It'll be alright, baby. Just try to relax. I'm gonna take the kids home, but I'm coming right back, ‘kay? And I'm not leaving your side for the rest of the night." He plants a kiss to your forehead before standing up to leave. He walks out of the room, giving you a caring glance before shutting the door.

As soon as he leaves, you can't hold back the tears anymore. You begin to sob, drawing your legs up to your chest. You feel so stupid, losing control in front of Eddie like that. And to have your mom, and everyone else staring at you? It’s so humiliating. And over what? A stupid essay? You really are just a scared little girl that can't handle anything. You imagine Eddie won't actually come back, because he's too freaked out by your little episode. He only says he will in order to spare your feelings. And all the kids will tell everyone and their dog about how you crumble so easily under pressure. Dustin’s bound to have a field day rubbing it all in your face. And you’ll have Mom doting on you every second of the day over this, maybe she'll even throw you in the looney bin.

You lay stewing in your thoughts for what feels like hours, and the sun had set outside your window. You never want to move from this spot again, never look at anyone or talk to anyone. It’s all too much, and you just want to hide, or maybe even die. You hear the front door open, probably Eddie stopping by to tell you he can't see you anymore. He can't possibly go out with a nutcase like you. The door to your room opens again, and Eddie walks over to you. "Hey, angel. How are you feeling?" He asks with a smile, which disappears when he sees how red your face is from crying.

"Terrible. But I don't expect you to care." You blubber, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. He scoffs at your statement, confused at your change in mood.

"What do you mean? Of course I care. Where's this coming from?" He asks, moving closer to you. You turn your back to him, you can't take that concerned look on his face. He sighs. "Y/N. Please, look at me. Did I do something wrong?" You groan, rolling back over to face him.

"You didn't do anything. I just figure you don't want to hang around me since I'm a basketcase." You reply bitterly. You know he's given you no indication of what you're saying, but you can't believe anyone would possibly want to be around you now.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He asks, shocked and slightly annoyed. "You're not a basketcase. And even if you were, I wouldn't care. I really like you, Y/N." He furrows his brow at you, trying to figure out where your head's at.

"You can't mean that." You shake your head, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Why not?" He crosses his arms, searching your expression.

"Because you can't see me like this, all shaky and pale over a stupid paper, and still want to be around me. It's so embarrassing." You start to tear up again, and you curse your eyes for working against you. "And everyone was staring at me, I'm sure they'll tell everyone they know about it. And Dustin will tease me. And my mom will worry about me all the time. She might even have me committed." Eddie's eyes widen at your words, realizing what's happening. He lays down next to you, but lets you have some space.

"Y/N, I can tell you right now that you're wrong. About all of it, 'kay?" He reassures you, and you glare at him.

"How do you know?" You cross your own arms now.

"Well, for one. I'm still here, aren't I? What did you think I was gonna do? Just leave and never come back?" He's slightly angry with you doubting his true intentions.

"I guess I did. I didn't want you to, but I didn't think you'd still like me after everything." You answer, realizing how silly you sound.

"Well, I do. I'm right here, ‘kay? Look, it scared me. But I was worried about you. I wanted you to be okay. To be honest, it felt like I caused it, since I kept you from doing your work all weekend." He explains, sounding guilty.

"No, Eddie. It isn't your fault, I didn't tell you about it, and that's my own problem." You reassure him, reaching for his hands. He lets you take them in yours.

"Well, that's good to know, princess. And another thing? You're wrong about everyone else too. Again, they're concerned for you. But the whole time I was driving them home, all the kids talked about was coming up with a way to help you feel better. They care about you, Y/N. We all do. I don't know what negative voices you have in your head telling you otherwise, but you shouldn't listen to them." You nod, and he continues on. "And Dustin? He swore everyone to secrecy about your anxiety. He said he'll smother anyone who spills your private business in their sleep. And your Mom? She told me you've been dealing with a lot for a long time. She said she felt something like this coming on, because you work yourself to the bone constantly. You never take a break, and you refuse to ask for help when you need it. Obviously, I knew some of this already, given how Friday went. But she said she hopes having me in your life will help you. She still thinks it could, which is flattering, I guess." He chuckles, and you let a small smile form on your lips. "There's that smile I've been missing today!" Eddie coos, pulling you into his arms.

You sniffle, wiping away all your tears. Your eyes feel irritated and red. "I'm sorry, Eddie. It's not fair of me to think the way I was about you. Or the others. I just...it's like I know those things aren't true, right? But, it also feels impossible that anyone would actually like and accept me as I am. You know? That probably makes no sense." You chuckle, slapping your forehead in embarrassment.

"No, it doesn't. But I understand what you mean. Listen, I'm here for you no matter what. I won't, however, let you wallow all day. You have a paper to finish young lady." He pokes your chest, making you giggle. "How about we go have a smoke outside, clear your head? Then you can finish your essay. And then, we can spend the rest of the night together. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect, Eds." You both climb out of bed, making your way outside. You bypass Dustin and your Mom, they seem surprised to see you in a better mood. They look at each other in confusion, questioning one another if they know anything about what Eddie might've said to you. But they end up shrugging, chalking it up to Eddie being the right man for you.

It isn't until you light up that you feel the effects of the pill your mother gave you earlier. You begin to feel dizzy, almost falling over. "Shit, I've gotcha." He catches you, gently leading you to sit in the grass. He sits beside you, rubbing your back with his hand. "You feeling alright, Y/N?" He looks into your eyes with concern.

You try to get your head to stop spinning, but you can't. "I'm not feeling so hot, Eddie. I'm really dizzy, everything's spinning." You groan, clutching your stomach. You lean away from him, and vomit into the grass. He tries to help you, but you push him away. You manage to stand, bending over as you throw up again. You keep yourself steady, bracing your hands on your knees. The stomach acid stings your throat, making you cough. You stay in place, waiting for your stomach to calm down. You dry heave a few times before you're finally empty. You spit any remaining bile out, wiping your mouth. You stand upright, almost falling backwards. Eddie grabs your shoulders to steady you.

"I'm sorry, angel. Have you ever taken Valium before?" He asks, stroking the sweat-soaked hair out of your face. You feel slightly better now, but also very tired. You just shake your head, before burying it into his chest. "I'm guessing you had a bad reaction. You didn't eat much today, either. I know your mom was trying to help, but I wish I had known you hadn't had it before. That shit is not for the faint hearted."

"She takes it to help her sleep, she's always had bad insomnia." You state, muffled by Eddie's chest. You can barely keep your eyes open at this point, you just want to sleep. You know your paper needs doing, but a small nap could help. You could always get up early tomorrow to finish it. "I'm really tired, Eds. Can you take me to bed?" You ask, nuzzling your face against him.

"I will, but I don't think you should sleep right now. You might get sick again and choke. And you need water, and something to eat. I'll get you something, and I'll stay with you until the pill wears off some more." He sighs, lifting you into his arms. You groan, your stomach still hurts. "Sorry, baby. I'm trying to be careful with you." He brings you inside, and your mother immediately panics when she sees you in Eddie's arms.

"Oh, God! What happened? You look awful, sugarpuff!" She says, rushing over to you.

"She's fine, mostly. She had a bad reaction to the pill you gave her and painted the yard with her breakfast." Eddie snips. He continues walking, bringing you down the hall. He plops you on the bed, making sure you sit up against your pillow. "Stay put, baby. I'll be right back." You hear him say as your eyes have fallen shut. He leaves the room to get what you need. You overhear him talking to Mom, their words swirling around in your dizzy head. Eddie calmly explains to her that she shouldn't have given you the Valium. She doesn't sound offended, more so she's ashamed that she inadvertently made you sick. He reassures her, saying it was just a mistake and that he'll help you through it. But he makes a point to tell her to never do it again under any circumstances. You drift off near the end of their talk, hearing the fridge door open as Eddie finds you something to eat.

A while later, you feel Eddie shaking you awake. "Mooooooom, just five more minutes." You whine, your eyes fluttering open. You see him chuckling at you thinking he was your mother. "Oh, it's you. Sorry, silly me." You giggle, trying to keep your eyes open.

"Hey, sleepy head. I brought you some dinner, and a nice tall glass of water." He sets a tray down next to you.

"Not hungry." You shake your head, and Eddie frowns at you.

"You have to eat, Y/N. You'll feel better, I promise." He insists, getting in bed next to you. He sets the tray on his lap. You lazily scan your eyes over what he’s brought you. A PB&J sandwich cut in half, and some apple slices. "It's not too much, I don't want you to barf it all up later. But it's enough to help you."

"Ugh, don't say barf." You wince, feeling ill again.

"Shit, sorry." He hands you half of the sandwich, and you reluctantly take it in your hand. You bring it to your mouth, taking a small, apprehensive bite. You immediately want to spit it out, but you know you have to get something down. You gulp hard as you manage to swallow it. It hits your stomach, and you start to feel hunger overtake you. You take another bite, and another. "Take it slow, Y/N." He says to you quietly, gently stroking your leg as you chew. You swallow again, looking into Eddie's eyes.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Eddie. You're a good man, you know." You smile kindly at him, taking another bite of your sandwich. "Did you make this?" You ask him as you chew.

"How'd you know?" He quirks an eyebrow at you, impressed you can tell he made it.

"Easy, Mom uses grape jelly. But I think it's too sweet. And you...used raspberry jam. My favorite. I don't know how you guessed it, though." His eyes widen, a smirk spreading on his lips. "What?" You look at him suspiciously.

"Raspberry is my favorite, too." He replies, wiping a smudge of jam from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He brings it to his lips, licking it clean. You stare at him in amazement, he really is something else. "What? Like you said, grape is too sweet. But raspberry? It makes the whole thing come together."

You don't know what to say, so you let slip the first thing that comes to mind. "I think I could be falling in love with you." You gasp at your own words, registering what you’ve just said to him.

"Over a sandwich?" He asks snarkily.

"Well, no. You're just so...." You search for the right words. "Good. To me." You gaze at him seriously, driving the point home that you care deeply for him. He gets the message, receiving it with enthusiasm.

"Well, I'm glad you feel so strongly for me, Y/N. And lucky for you, I just happen to feel the same." Eddie looks deep into your eyes, before glancing at your lips. He's breathing heavily, unsure if he should go further. He doesn't want to push you in your vulnerable state.

"Are you gonna kiss me already?" You say impatiently, his eyes snap to yours again. You can't help smiling like an idiot, closing the gap yourself. Your lips meet, both of you humming lowly into the kiss. You break away quickly, covering your mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sure my breath is terrible right now." Your cheeks heat up, but he's unphased.

"It's fine, Y/N. You just taste like sandwich. I don't mind either way, not if it means I get to kiss the most beautiful girl in the world." He pokes your nose, making the both of you laugh. You finish the first half of the sandwich, drinking some of the water to wash it down. You reach over to take an apple slice from the tray in his lap. Eddie sits with you quietly while you chew, still stroking your leg. He watches as you manage to eat everything off your plate, kissing your forehead when you finish the last bite. "That's my girl." He says sweetly, taking the tray back to the kitchen. You sip on the water, feeling just full enough for your stomach to stop hurting. You can't stop smiling, seeing Eddie care for you makes your heart swell and gives you butterflies. He comes back shortly, plopping into bed beside you once more. "Better?" He asks, holding your hand.

"Better." You reply, planting a kiss on his plush lips. You cuddle up to him, laying your head on his shoulder. You still feel pretty tired, but you just might be able to finish your paper now. "I should probably finish my essay." You say reluctantly.

"You sure?" Eddie says, worried about you working yourself up again.

"Yeah, I have to get it done. But...stay here with me, okay?" You place a hand on his thigh, caressing it gently.

"Of course, Y/N. I'm not goin’ anywhere." He places his hand over yours. Your head leaves its resting place, and you reach over for your notebook and pencil. "C’mere, sit between my legs." Eddie says calmly, and you do as he asks. You put the notebook in your lap, reading the last page you were working on to remember where you’re going with it. You feel Eddie running his hands up and down your back, and your eyes can't help fluttering closed at his touch.

"Watcha doin' there, Eds?" You ask breathily.

"I'm keeping you relaxed, angel." He replies lowly. His hands go to your shoulders, massaging them firmly. You moan at his touch, your head falling to the side. "Does that feel good, baby?" He asks in your ear, his warm breath fanning over you.

"Mhm." Is all you can manage to say as his hands continue to work your flesh. His thumbs press into your back, working the knots of stress that have resided there for who knows how long. You wince as they hurt a little.

"I know, baby. Just let me help you, you'll feel better when I'm done." He presses a kiss to your neck, setting your skin aflame. You know he's not intentionally turning you on, but you can't help leaning further into his touch. He draws small moans from you as he loosens up your sore muscles.

"How are you so fucking good at this?" You ask lustfully, making Eddie's cock twitch. Under any other circumstances, he'd be going further than he is. But he doesn't want to push you when you're not feeling well, it wouldn't be right.

"Practice, sweetheart. I'll keep going, but you have to work on your essay." He kisses your neck again, before setting your head upright so you'll concentrate.

"Alright, alright. Just please keep going." You almost whine at him.

"I'll go as long as you want me too, babydoll." He chuckles quietly. You turn your attention back to the book in front of you. You reread the last paragraph to refresh your train of thought. Once you remember where you’re going, you begin scrawling more words on the page. The ideas come easy to you, and Eddie's hands travel up to your neck. He gently rubs out a large knot that you're sure has been there for months, but you remain focused on the task at hand.

About thirty minutes later, the infamous essay is finally finished. "Done!" You clap the book shut, tossing it away.

"I knew you could do it, baby." You blush at his praise as he kisses your cheek. Eddie had stopped massaging you ten minutes earlier, but he kept caressing you in a non-distracting way. He loves touching you, it seems he'll never get enough. You leave his grasp, turning to face him. He looks so tired, and you feel bad for stressing him out today. He peers at you, raising an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

You straddle him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You look into his eyes, biting your lip. "Nothing's wrong, baby. I'm just sorry for making you so worried today. Let me make it up to you." You lean forward to kiss his neck, lightly biting down on his skin. He groans, his hands going to your waist instinctively. You look at him again, but his expression hasn't changed. "What?" You ask, scrunching your face.

He sighs, pressing into your hips with his fingers. He shakes his head. "It's nothing. It’s just...you don't owe me anything." You open your mouth to protest, but he stops you. "Don't get me wrong, you're sexy as all hell. But you should be taking it easy, sweetheart. It wouldn't be right for me to ask anything of you right now." Eddie cups your face, looking at you meaningfully. "But, what we can do is get cozy and cuddle in bed. I'm fuckin' exhausted, and you need rest before class tomorrow." He pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours passionately. You return it, grabbing the sides of his face to deepen it further. Eddie quickly catches on to what you're doing, breaking away. "Easy, tiger. Man, even when you're sick, you're insatiable." He jokes, moving you off of his lap.

"What can I say? You really bring out my appetite." You smirk slyly at him, hopping off the bed to shut your bedroom door. You both quickly discard your clothes. Eddie's in his boxers, and you're in some panties and his Hellfire shirt. You flick off the light, and climb into bed with him. You scoot under the covers, and he snatches you into his arms to spoon you. You share a quiet laugh, the feeling of his arms around you gives you a warm sense of safety. You turn your head to look at him. "Goodnight, Eds. Thank you for being here with me." You whisper, giving him a peck on the lips. He smiles kindly at you, his eyes hooded from drowsiness.

"It's no trouble at all, ‘night, princess." He slowly shuts his eyes, holding you even closer to him. He nuzzles his face into you, sighing in contentment. You face forward again, closing your eyes too. You let your mind wander off to dreamland, feeling safe, warm, and secure in Eddie's arms.

To be continued...

#fanfiction #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #into the fire #hippiegoth97

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bibliophilicstranger · 2 months ago

Note

People are always defending Ron's jealousy and insecurity because he grew up in the shadow of his siblings, but what exactly did Ron DO to try and change the way things were? NOTHING. He just sulked, and grew jealous of Harry for being famous for his parents being killed, didn't believe him when he said he didn't put his name in a cup, abandoned Hermione and Harry during a time of war, etc. Ron didnt do jack to try and change his situation, so why should anyone care if he felt insecure?

I think the answer is a little more complicated than that, insofar as I think the insecurity, if not the jealousy, is more forgivable in Ron when he is younger than when he is older.

One of the major criticisms of Ron's character is that he's lazy and rather difficult to motivate. Homework and research are things he engages in reluctantly; his main drives are chess, quidditch, and food. In a Voldemort-free world, where Harry was raised by Lily and James and they're just normal friends, there's no real issue with any of those things. Some people aren't school-people and refuse to apply themselves, no matter how intelligent they may be; I've been friends with a few of them.

Now, this behavior is what makes it difficult for him to positively stand out amongst his siblings. The three eldest were strong academically and made prefect, with two of them being head boy and one quidditch captain. (I haven't played Hogwarts Mystery much, but if you take it as even semi-canon, Bill and Charlie had their own Hogwarts adventures) Fred and George don't seek academic success but they're undoubtably brilliant. They can also be attention black holes. Ginny is the only girl, which gives her automatic status in her family, and later she manages to attain quidditch success. And then there's Ron.

One can sympathize that as the sixth son, his ways to stand out amongst his siblings are limited by what's come before. Although Molly's reaction when he becomes prefect shows that were he to have striven for academic success it would have drawn positive attention, there's no individuality in it. His character also constrains the ways that he could stand out. Being sorted into Slytherin would have made him stand out, but he feels so strongly about being a Gryffindor like all the other Weasleys (and has such negative views of the other houses) that he'd never consider such. Like Charlie, he could have specialized in a particular thing and achieved distinction that way. To a degree, one could see Chess being this thing, but it's a hobby and there don't seem to be wizard-chess grandmasters or wizard-chess tournaments in canon (Lord of Caer Azkaban invents chess school and professional chess champions in the wizarding world for Ron). Potions-Master!Ron could have been an option, or History!Ron, or Chef!Ron. Heck, a Ron who specialized in brooms and their enchantments could have dovetailed with his interest in quidditch and given him a distinction beyond "good at quidditch" (which was surpassed by Charlie and later Ginny). But he never seeks these routes or puts in the effort to carve out a niche for himself. He could have done things to become more than he was and didn't.

Now, he befriends Harry at eleven. Perhaps he doesn't have a good idea at first about Harry's background, beyond the fact that he's famous and his parents are dead. He knows Harry has money, because Harry buys all the sweets on the train for the two of them, and he sees Harry immediately end up on the Quidditch team. For an eleven year old, some jealousy is understandable. Yet he knows by the beginning of book two (really, by Christmas in book one if he was paying attention), when they rescue Harry from the Dursleys that Harry's home life isn't great. He knows that Harry is still a target for Voldemort and his minions. (He also knows that being Harry's best friend is an avenue to recognition-- he gets points at the leaving ceremony in PS/SS and an award for special services to the school in CoS (an award Hermione doesn't get, though she deserves it as much as Ron if not more, given that Ron doesn't actually do much other than shift some rock and nothing would have been figured out without Hermione.) Book three ends with Harry getting his dogfather back, one wealthy enough to bestow a top-of-the-line broom, even if Sirius is a fugitive (Ron may also hold a bit of a grudge over the whole leg-thing, and Hermione and Harry's solo adventure) and he gets an owl out of it. Then the World Cup happens. Harry splashes out a good bit of gold on his friends and Ron's reminded of his wealth yet again.

So when Ron abandons Harry when his name is chosen, it's a boil over of years of accumulating jealousy. It's almost understandable. They're only fourteen, for one, and while they've had adventures, Ron hasn't seen the worst of them. Harry has the fame and wealth that Ron clearly wants and now he has a chance to gain more of both. An initial eruption of temper is not justifiable per se but excusable if it's just a quick flare up and then he apologizes and tries to do better. But it's not. Ron doubles down on everything by refusing to believe Harry and then ignoring him for a month. The initial snapping in the moment with the original assumption Harry submitted himself would be easily forgivable, if he believed Harry rather than thinking him a liar and apologized. But he doesn't do that. He ignores him and holds that grudge until Harry is a hero again, until the danger of Harry's situation finally becomes clear to him. Harry forgives him without needing the apology, but Harry is more forgiving then most. A different character would have required the words and change, and perhaps Ron would have benefited and grown from the experience. Yet, as we see later, Ron doesn't.

The betrayal at fourteen might be more easily excused, but it's reoccurrence at seventeen cannot be set aside so readily. Three years have passed and one would expect more maturity, not only because of the extra three years, but from what happened in them. He's been poisoned and close to death and fought death eaters multiple times. He's an adult in the wizarding world with experience in its darker aspects. He knows what's at stake, knows that the entire outcome of the war hinges on what they're doing. Is it reasonable to be somewhat frustrated at their circumstances? Yes, but not to take that burden out on Harry, or to lay the blame at his feet. Most of the issues with a lack of knowledge are actually Dumbledore's fault, as he was the one who dawdled over giving Harry information and then failed to ensure the Trio had explanations of their items and the real sword.

But this is meant to be a post about Ron's flaws, not Dumbledore's, so we'll save that for another day.

So let's go back to Seven, just after Headmaster Black has been returned to Hermione's bag. Harry and Hermione are enthused and eager from learning new information. They're working off of each other to put together new ideas. Ron, however, doesn't join in, doesn't apply his supposed skill at tactics and chess to get into Dumbledore's mind, instead he goes off on Harry for not knowing everything, even though Harry's always been clear about what information he had. Ron doesn't listen to Hermione about taking the Horcrux off, even though she accurately guesses it's amplifying his feelings (though even with it off, he doesn't calm down), nor does he listen when she tries to deescalate the argument. Notably, he demands Hermione leave with him after he has removed the Horcrux. Even if it was contributing to his mood, it wasn't all of it. Could Harry have been calmer, not bellowed, not told him to go home if that was what he wanted? Yes, but Ron starts the argument, stalks toward Harry, accuses Harry of not caring (when Harry has previously saved the lives of multiple Weasleys), and then says that Harry's parents are "safely out of the way." Ron is the one who goes for his wand first. Ron is the one who chooses to disapparate.

Ron shows himself to be selfish. He is cold, he is hungry, he's been injured. He's the one who's not having the time of his life, even though Harry and Hermione are sharing the same tent, the same food, the same conditions. Even before this, he's complaining about the food, even though he hasn't contributed to finding or cooking it. He ignores Hermione throughout the scene, except when he wants her to support him and take his side. Consider too that Hermione is between him and Harry when he draws his wand-- any spell he used on Harry would probably have hit her. He's worried about his family, even though Harry has often considered them as family too and Hermione is completely cut off from hers (they might be safe from Voldemort, but not from all of the other things that can happen, especially in Australia, where everything wants to kill you). He is unhappy and seems to be out to make Harry and Hermione just as unhappy as he is. When Harry is suffering pain from Voldemort, Ron cares only for news about his family, not that his friend is in pain.

It's immature. Hermione is just as cold (possibly colder, given women generally run colder than men), just as hungry, just separated from her family. Hermione has just as little experience as Ron does with deprivation, but she doesn't bring these up and complain, at least not to Harry. She knows that they signed up for this, insisted that they would come along. Harry would have gone off on his own, but Ron and Hermione were the ones to insist that they go with him. Ron blames Harry for his own choices.

Ron could have contributed to the discussion, coming up with ideas to help drive them along. He could have used his knowledge of the wizarding world to come up with ideas. He could have done the hunting or the cooking. He could have come up with ways to heat the tent, gotten firewood, learned Hermione's blue fire spell. He could have decided that they reasonably needed food and warmer blankets and clothing and stolen them out of necessity (Hermione and Harry might have thought it morally wrong, but he could have argued that the minimal effect on Tesco's was outweighed by their need to stay well so that they could save the wizards and muggles alike from Voldemort).

But he doesn't do these things. Like before, he fails to work to make his situation better and in his anger, lashes out. He is as immature at seventeen as he was at fourteen. He has just as little control over his temper. He says when he returns that he thinks the horcrux had more influence on him than on Harry or Hermione, that he was clearheaded when not wearing it to recognize the impact... and yet he didn't put that "strategic" mind of his to work on figuring out a way for them to carry it without having to wear it, or maybe suggesting they wear it for shorter periods so it has less impact. He could have asked for occlumency tips in hopes of keeping the effects down. But he doesn't try change things.

His post-return conversations imply he was insecure about Hermione's feelings, but Ron hadn't properly entered a relationship with her. If one believes (as many fans of the couple seem to) that his feelings for her existed before the Yule Ball, he first declares he wants to go with the most attractive girl possible, only contemplating Hermione as a last resort. At the ball itself, we see him behave in a truly ghastly manner, ruining her evening as well as that of his actual date (Harry's behavior isn't any better). Yet Ron doesn't make a move in book five, when neither of them really have anyone else on the table, and then in six, he rejects her before flaunting a different relationship in her face. Then he doesn't start dating her after his birthday and somehow has still not officially asked her out by the beginning of seven. He had years to attempt secure a relationship with Hermione if he wanted one and never did. Having evaluated this anew makes me think even less of his insecurities on this point.

Further, if he felt overlooked by his parents, did he ever try to engage with them on their terms? Help his mum with the cooking or her knitting, help his dad with the muggle stuff? We never see him volunteer or talk about time spent with them-- the way he talks about his dad's hobbies don't seem to imply he ever joins him in the shed and if he had learned anything domestic from his mum, shouldn't he have contributed in the horcrux hunt?

Ron could have done more on all fronts to become a better person. We see many of his character flaws show up in books three and four, and one would expect then that we'd get a more mature character in seven. Perhaps it's just bad character development, perhaps we're supposed to sympathize with a character who needs to make the same mistakes multiple times before he gets better, but personally, I don't find Ron's actions particularly sympathetic. He knows the stakes and leaves anyway.

Luckily for Ron, Harry's a more forgiving and loyal friend. As for Hermione... well, apparently escaping death eaters and an exploding erumpent horn is as good at repairing friendship as surviving a troll is to forming one.

#asks #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #anti ron weasley

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sunkissedscribbles · 10 months ago

Text

Prejudiced - Chapter Six

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here

a/n: GUYS this is my favourite one so far, i had so much fun with this. was listening to meddle about by chase atlantic while writing the first part of it. enjoy<3

word count: 3297

tw: um probably swearing, cassie getting a little carried away, mention of sex

summary: cassie finally breaks and tells kiara what’s been bothering her but as always, things only get even more complicated when she tries to apologize to mattheo.

dividers by @chachachannah

As dramatic as it might sound, I spend my Sunday morning locked away in my room in fear after what I've done. Thoughts regarding my stupidity rush through my brain, not leaving me a split second to think about anything else. If I were able to think of something else, I'd be thinking about how big of a genius I was for doing my homework yesterday. But there's no time, nor enough capacity in my brain to keep my mind off that kiss. Almost kiss — it wasn't a real kiss. It was just a little peck on the lips, wasn't it? Like a friendly smooch.

But friends don't kiss each other's lips, I remind myself.

Damnit. Why do I always have to prove no one can fool with me? Mattheo was just teasing, no harm was done by that, and I was an idiot, there's no denying that one.

An hour into me rushing into my dorm dramatically, shoving past fellow Gryffindors who must've thought I've given in to the stereotypes, declaring I'm a psychopath like my aunt and other ancestors by how I was behaving, Kiara knocks on my door. One thing is for sure about her; she does not know personal space, and she never knocks. But now, I think she knows it's different. I've pushed it too far. But wasn't I just responding to Mattheo?

No. It was outright the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life.

"Cass. I'm coming in," my best friend's voice echoes through the wooden door, seconds later she's sitting on my bed next to me, awkwardly patting my head as I cry, and unintentionally finding humour in her way of comforting people, I let out a brief laugh, followed by a big sob as I lay my head into her lap.

"I've ruined it, Ki. I-I... he won't ever-" I must stop to gather my thoughts for a moment. "He won't forgive me for this. I'll be the reason we part. Us five."

Kiara just listens for a while, gently caressing my hair as a way of comfort. "I'm so sorry-y," I sob and she immediately starts hushing me. "It's not your fault. You didn't ruin anything. If I were him, I would've enjoyed it," she reassures me. But I can only think of one thing.

"So, he didn't? He said I kissed badly?" I let out another big sob and she smacks my forehead lightly, not to cause me any pain.

"Fuck off. I bet you're a great kisser."

"But-"

"No buts. You are and you know it too. Plus, it wasn't even a real kiss."

To that, I respond with heavier cries. Because she's right.

"My first kiss wasn't even a kiss. And it wasn't real either," I bury my face into her thigh, but she makes me look at her by commanding me to do so.

"Why'd you do it?"

I shrug and shake my head, my voice trembles as I speak and it's barely above a whisper as I can feel my throat tighten with guilt, "I don't know."

After a few minutes, I sit up and start to play with the gold ring on my finger.

"I-I guess I let my frustration take the best of me," I let out a sharp, breathy exhale and run a hand through my hair before continuing. "And... he was right there. And I guess I just wanted to, you know..."

"...Kiss someone?" she helps me out patiently, speaking calmly, to that, I nod. I now realize how stupid and childish it sounds. And Ki sees right through me if I haven't been embarrassed enough for today.

"But it's not only that, is it?"

I look away and shake my head. "No."

"Talk to me. You know I'm right here."

To that, my blood starts to boil again because how would she understand? She's got everything, all the experience and what've I got? Fear of not being enough, fear of running out of time and missing out on life.

"I'm running out of time, Ki. I haven't had my first kiss yet and you have already lost your virginity-"

"It comes in different times for everyone, Cass. Don't compare us."

"I know! I know it does and that I shouldn't, but I can't, okay? Not when all of you are smoking, drinking, attending all those parties where you leave me alone, you and Theo to do that, Mattheo to dance with a girl who's not at all like me, and Enzo not even turning up! And then no one notices I've left. Not even Matt who's been there with me after you two left. Maybe I'm doing something wrong-"

"You aren't."

"-or maybe the problem is with me but I'm not feeling well, for fuck's sake," I blurt out, and my voice trembles while another tear is running down my cheek unstoppably.

Kiara just looks at me with an expressionless face and she nods. She knows. I freeze. She knew this whole time...? Does she know about my problems with my body image too?

She waits for me to continue but I don't. I just turn the conversation back to the topic.

"And now I kiss this twat. All because you three don't know when to stop teasing and because I don't know where to draw that fucking line, okay? I'm a horrible person and my actions will cost a whole friend group. I'm so fucking sorry that I can't be a better fucking person," I spit furiously. It's not Kiara I'm angry of — it's me, my unspoken feelings, and the world that got me this enraged.

In the end, she gets me to calm down. It takes some time but that's enough for me to go down to the Slytherin common room and apologize to the curly-haired boy.

I watch the scene escalate the second I step into the common room. For a moment, I freeze to make sure I'm not hallucinating. I see two boys fighting in the Muggle way, throwing punches.

"You fucking moron," I hear Enzo's voice echo through the space and his voice bounces back off the cold stone walls of the castle as he hits Mattheo back. The other students are only watching the scene before their eyes, rooting for either boy to win. Enzo already has a black eye and Mattheo bruised lips, from where Enzo's fist last found him.

A few seconds later I take the initiative and getting Blaise Zabini, — whom I learn from the fight's about some girl — and another Slytherin student to help me separate the boys, they hold a raging Lorenzo Berkshire back as I pull the other delinquent, Mattheo back. But it doesn't help at all. Where are Ki and Theo when they're needed?

Even when telling Mattheo those sweet lies of how it's alright, how it's not worth fighting, he doesn't stop but nor does Enzo. It takes all my physical strength to shove Mattheo under a cold rain of water in the Slytherin bathroom when his dark eyes don't seem to soften and my words do not look like they're helping, at all.

"Look at me!" I demand. The cold water's dripping from Mattheo's hair, hitting his face like a heavy London rain in the summer, and soaking the both of us' clothes. When he finally meets my gaze, his eyes remain darkened but now, with another emotion, apart from anger it isn't violent, it's just aggressive. Lust, desire.

He pushes me against the wall of the shower, keeping me steady sandwiched between him and the cold bathroom tiles with his hips as his fingers dig into my waist, making a small grunt escape my lips. Not even a millisecond later, his lips press aggressively against mine, not caring that they're bruised because of that punch delivered by Enzo. I need a second or two to realize what the fuck is happening right here, like damn, I'm being kissed by Mattheo Riddle, but then I warm up against his lips and reciprocate the kiss. He kisses deeply, aggressively, and not at all hiding his lust, but this is what's so beautiful about it. My hands wander up his back until they reach his wet curls — might I mention we're still standing under the cold shower. I pull on his hair here and there while my fingers rake through his locks, causing a few low growls to leave his throat and as a response, his hands travel lower onto my hips, and they slowly make their way to grab onto my butt. To this, my head snaps back, against the cold wall and Mattheo's lips trace a line of kisses along my jaw, making their way and stopping on my neck but not at all draw an end to the kissing. His one hand remains on my ass but the other finds its way to the hem of my long-sleeve and travels under it to tease the soft skin of my stomach. The second his palm presses against my wet skin I let out a gasp and Mattheo's lips find their way back to mine while he groans as a response to the pleasure and excitement that we're both feeling right now. I tug on his curls again, following his lead of aggression while his one hand starts travelling further up my body under my top. My breathing's shallow and it as well as my heartbeat are uncontrolled and rapid as a sense of euphoria washes over my whole being that is right now only dedicated to the boy kissing me. His hand, though, stops right before reaching my breasts and after one last kiss, to my dismay, he pulls back from me, and after staring at me with those chocolate eyes in which lust has just been replaced by regret, he steps away, and giving me no reaction time, he turns around and storms out of the bathroom. I stare at the shut door for a few seconds, digesting what had happened just now. Then, I turn the water off with a disappointed look in my eyes, and with a longing ache in my heart and in dripping wet clothes, I make my way to Kiara's dorm.

Disappointed, crushed, destroyed — this is how I would describe my mood after the kiss we've shared with Mattheo under the shower. Not because it happened, though, more of it ever ending; even if it sounds cliché. Over the days following the kiss, I find myself thinking about it, maybe even more than I should, as well as I find myself staring at the curly-haired boy in question over the classrooms, again, more than I should, as I'm trying to figure my feelings out. If I even like him, or it's just the mental image of us, and how we shared a moment. How he satisfied my five senses; the taste of his lips that I can still recall, being met by his lustful eyes that would make me weak in the knees, the feeling of his hands wandering, grazing my skin as they made it their personal mission to explore every inch of my body, the scent of how his cologne mixed with his shampoo as the running water washed everything together, and hearing the sound of our greedy kisses and the sounds he made, driven by pure desire. I wanted a kiss? Well, I got it. But I might have lost a friend as well. I don't fancy him — I can't fancy him.

He doesn't talk to me. Not a word is spoken between us for days, but I know for sure he's approached Theo the same way I did Kiara. "I did something bad, something extremely horrible," this is how I stormed into Ki's dorm on Sunday, clothes dripping with water, on the verge of crying and panicking.

It's one thing he doesn't talk to me and doesn't even try to get in touch. But it's another that Enzo now officially despises us both. Because I also learned it's my fault they'd got into that fight. Because I 'kissed' Mattheo. The kiss that morning that I referred to as a 'friendly smooch.' Well, this second one for sure wasn't an innocent little smooch on the lips. And why does that bother Enzo; I spent too much time thinking about it, looking for an answer. According to Kiara, Theo, and even the twins, he likes me, but in my opinion, maybe he only wanted to protect me from, well, the monster people claim Mattheo to be. But from Ki and Theo's constant teasing back when everything was alright, I doubt I'd be right with the second option. Which is bad. Horrible. Horrible, because I love Enzo, okay? But not at all romantically. Enzo is the guy I'd live together and adopt 60 cats with, taking care of them as platonic cat parents, not the guy I see myself falling for.

So, now my entire friend group is falling apart, all because of me.

And it goes like this, everyone drifting away and the only mutual connection being Theo and Ki, for three weeks. What happens after three weeks, you might wonder. Kiara and Theo, the two kind souls deciding it's time for Mattheo and me to make up ("Make ou- up, I mean. One way or another, him on top, or you, I don't care. I've had enough of this bickering," if I may quote Kiara's words) for what happened. As a solution, we arrive at the present day; they shove us into a broom closet and lock the door until we're done having a heart-to-heart.

"So..." Mattheo's voice is unsteady, so he clears his throat.

I've been thinking about this a lot; about what we should do if he ever were to talk to me again. And I've come to a sensible conclusion.

"Can we forget about it?"

"Let's be more," Mattheo says right when I blurt my suggestion out. And because we're talking at the same time and since I'm focusing on saying the right words, I hear my words louder than his, thus I don't understand what he says.

"Sorry," we mutter at the same time. "You start," I pass him the ball.

"No, you," to that, I sigh and nod.

"I said let's forget about it. We'd just ruin the whole group and there's the Enzo problem too. We were just... acting on a whim, weren't we?" I offer an apologetic smile and to that, his eyes become a little colder and his muscles tense up in his whole body, all too perceptible as I see his facial features change, his muscles twitching underneath the soft skin I'd like to touch the way I did three weeks ago.

Fuck, Cassie, stop this.

"Yeah. I was thinking the same," he nods. I'm not even able to read his expression because of the cold eyes he's giving me. He's shutting down again. Oh, I know for a fact he's a Pisces moon.

"Mattheo," I frown, "have I said something wrong?"

He shakes his head and lets out a sigh, his exterior softening. "No, you haven't."

Before I could ask him if he's sure about that, the snickering from the other side of the door catches my ear and I immediately forget that I've even wanted to ask anything. And our broom-closet-duo is supplemented by a cursing Enzo who stumbles in by being pushed in by two pairs of hands.

The second he notices us, he becomes defensive, having his arms crossed in front of his chest and his expression dark and hardened. "Am I interrupting something?" he asks coldly, clearly hurt as his sarcastic words ring in the tight space. He can't even look at me — he's only staring into Mattheo's eyes, coldly as never before. Then, after a few seconds, he looks at me and speaks bitterly. "Or is one guy not enough for you?"

The muscles in my face all tense up at his sarcastic remark. I see the twitch in Mattheo's fists — he'd jump right at Enzo and start another fistfight. Enzo's words though, in me, cut deep, and now I'm just becoming more sure that Kiara and Theo have been right about how Enzo might like me. Might. May. Must do so. And I want to shovel dirt on me and bury myself alive.

"Can't we talk this through?" I suggest in a hurt tone.

"I'm not having this discussion with this in the room," Enzo spits bitterly with a straight back, clearly referring to Mattheo. And again, I'd like to turn the time back to where I messed it all up by acting on a whim when I gave Mattheo that smooch the morning after his nightmare.

"Neither do I," Mattheo claims through gritted teeth, glaring at Enzo while trying to hold his disruptive anger back.

"If you want a threesome, not with him," Enzo shoots back and before I can even respond, a fist is thrown in his direction, followed by a grunt from Enzo.

I try to pull Mattheo back but there's no use. I make my mind up — if I can't get them off each other by my hands, I'm gonna do it by wand. I grab the vine-wood wand from my back pocket and point at them both. "Immobulus," I say in a relatively calm tone that covers my frustration, watching as a blue light flashes from the tip of my wand, freezing the wrestling boys in their movements.

"Let's keep it short," I start in an annoyed voice as I glare down at the boys, the frustrated, almost angry undertone growing upon my words the more I go on. "Have I kissed Mattheo? Yes, I have. But it has nothing to do with Enzo. I'm friends with both of you, nothing more, and less only if you two keep this bickering shit up. You are my best friends, you are my only family, but if you can't appreciate it, then I guess we should call this off. We're all hurting and I know I made a bloody mistake, but we are hurting Kiara and Theodore too with what we've been doing in the past weeks. You two have to get over this, and I have some unfinished business with both of you, but I can only do that if you finally listen to me. And if you actually have some intelligent thoughts in those shrunken brains of yours still, let me know. And stop fighting over childish nonsense, finally. We're not in nursery school anymore, for Salazar's bollocks!"

Okay, saying I'm in a mood is an understatement, I have to agree on that one. But who wouldn't react similarly in a situation like this? Or I do have gone mental — and if that's the case, I'll have to apologize to Hermione.

I'm still looking at the boys lying on the floor under the effects of the Freezing Charm, and I can only hope their brains could process my previous rant — but after a few more seconds, I do the counterspell on the arses of the bloody morons.

They sit up and do a little shake of their hands, both looking at me as if they saw the basilisk, neither of them saying a word but they get up eventually.

I cross my arms in front of me and glare at them. "Shake hands."

"What?" they ask in unison.

"Do it. Shake hands. And get over this shit."

Reluctantly, but they do it, exchanging angry, frustrated gazes, then they both look at me. I have no intention of talking about what happened between either of them and me, not like this, when they're both present — that wouldn't do much good to anyone. All I say is "Sorry," and they mutter a "Me too."

thanks for reading it, and don't foget to comment if you'd like to be on the tag list<3

tag list: @reyys-letters @mqstermindswift @inksoakedparchment

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ofstarsandvibranium · 2 years ago

Text

Tour de Richmond

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: Jamie gives you a tour of Richmond as well as gets to know you better. When you tell your cousin of his teammate's generosity, he suddenly becomes a bit hostile towards Jamie.

Meet Cousin McAdoo | Caffeine Crash

A/N: i looked up the bare minimum of the Richmond area. if anything is wrong, please let me know!

"So you've been around here, yeah?" Jamie asks, gesturing to the small shops that neighbors the cafe you were just at.

"A bit. Haven't really gone in any of these shops. But they're cute!"

"We can pop in a few if you'd like?" he suggests, pointing to a bookshop to your left.

"Another time."

Jamie shrugs, "Suit yourself."

He guides you away from the shops and towards, "The Richmond Green. The general gathering spot for people here. Kids like to play football here. There's sometimes cricket tournies here too."

You smile at the gathering of people scattered around the green acres. You see a small group of people doing yoga, three teens kicking a football around, people walking their dogs around. It's a very comforting atmosphere.

Jamie does his best not to be obvious about looking at you. He finds himself smiling to himself because you seem to find joy in the sights before you. He then turns to the view and realizes that he's never really enjoyed watching everything and everyone. He's always ran past them all during trainings and whatnot.

"Sorry, is it okay if we sit down and people watch for a little?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," he follows you to a bench where you both sit down.

You sit your drink and stare, "It's nice to just sit here and watch everything. I find it very calming. I don't get to do it much back home, though, always too busy with work and life."

"I don't think I've ever done this. I felt like I need to be on the go, ya know? Spend my time trying to get better, improvin' and all that."

You turn your attention to him, "You've never given yourself a break? What do you do during the off season? Don't you go on vacation?"

He shrugs, "I'm busy practicin'. I'll visit me mum and Simon sometimes, but they're doing their own travelin' a lot of the time," he nudges you with his shoulder, "What about you? Have you done any travelin'?"

"When my aunt married Isaac's uncle, that was the first time I travelled. They had a destination wedding in France. Wanted to be in the city of love and romance. That's where I met Isaac. We became really close through that trip. He's like my big brother. Always looking out for me." you take another sip of your drink and stand to your feet, "Okay. I'm ready to continue."

Jamie follows as you two continue to walk around the green. He points over in one direction, "Right there is the Richmond Palace. The Tudors lived there and some shit. Over there is the Richmond Theater. They do plays and stuff there."

You snort at Jamie's explanations, "Some tour guide you are! You're not going to give me a brief history on the town or these historic landmarks?" you give him a playful smirk.

He chuckles, "I'm sorry I didn't do me homework before offerin' you a tour. Here," he pulls out his phone, quickly typing something and clearing his throat, "Richmond was founded following King Henry VII's building in the 16th century of Richmond Palace. The town and palace became particularly associated with Queen Elizabeth I , who spent her last days there," he lowers his phone down, smirking at you, "Better?"

You giggle, "You're funny. Are all of Isaac's teammates like you?"

"Nah. I'm the best outta all of them. I'm the funniest, best lookin'-"

"Most humble," you add with jest.

Jamie's smiling at you. He enjoys your company. He feels at ease around you and he's only spent maybe an hour in your presence. He likes this little back and forth you and he seem to be doing. It's nice. It's fun. Maybe-

A ringing comes from your bag and you swiftly pull your phone out, answering, "Good morning, sleepy head...I woke up early and thought I'd grab a coffee," you roll your eyes, "Don't be dramatic, Isaac, I'm an adult. I can handle myself...I'm not alone. Jamie." you sigh, "Yes, Jamie Tartt. Hold on," you pull the phone away from you and hold it out to Jamie, "He wants confirmation I'm really with you?"

Jamie takes the phone and presses it to his ear, "Yeah, what's good, man?"

"You better keep her safe, bruv. If anything happens to her-"

"Oi! Chill man! We're just walking around the fuckin' park."

"I'm serious, Jamie."

"We'll be fine. She's a grown adult, man. Let her be," he hands the phone back to you.

"If you're going to be like this my entire visit, I'm getting a hotel, Isaac...yes, I'm serious! ...again, I can handle myself. I'll see you soon. Bye!" you immediately end the call and take a long sip from your coffee.

"I get he loves you and all, but Jesus. I can practically see that vein in his head ready to pop out."

You burst out laughing, "I know exactly what you're talking about! Also the way he frowns when he's all serious. Like," you do your best impression of Isaac frowning and Jamie laughs, "That's pretty good."

"Thanks," you reply with a smile, "I'm sorry about Isaac, by the way. Like I said, he's like my big brother and he sometimes takes the role too seriously. But he means well."

"I know. He's a good guy."

Another hour goes by of you and Jamie chatting, him occasionally pointing out some other Richmond landmarks. It was a very pleasant morning spent. He walked you all the way back to Isaac's.

"Thank you, Jamie. This morning was fun."

"I'm glad. Sorry again for crashin' into ya like that."

You shrug, "It's okay. It led to a fun little adventure with you."

Jamie slowly backs away from you, "See ya around."

"See ya!" you wave as he's lightly jogging down the street. You continue to watch him as he fades from view. There's a little fluttering in your chest and you feel a bit giddy.

You open the door to Isaac's and you yelp in surprise as he's standing there, arms over his chest, looking very stern.

"Uh, hi?"

"Did Jamie try anything?"

"What? No! He just gave me a tour of the town!"

"So he didn't try to kiss you or nothin'?"

You roll your eyes, "Nothing happened, Isaac. And if something did, it's none of your business! Besides, I thought you said Jamie is a better person now."

"Doesn't mean he can date you."

"Whatever," you pass him and head to the kitchen to make yourself a snack.

#jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader

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