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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years ago

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How’s Your Head? | Bucky Barnes x Reader

This has been in my WIP forever and I finally finished it. Once again, I am looking for a soft, kind, Bucky Barnes to take care of me and flirt with me. Is that so much to ask?🥲

This is slightly longer than my usual stuff, just FYI. The WC is 7280. And yes the title is a Drag Race reference. 😂

Warnings: reader injury (not severe), creepy men (jail), blood, vomit, flirting, fluff🫶

Bucky didn’t like the staring. The eyes that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. The old woman just a few seats down from him leered at him almost aggressively, like she hoped looks could kill. And though this was a common occurrence, it still rubbed him the wrong way.

“Another adoring fan…” Bucky thought.

He shifted side to side along with the rocking of the subway car and did his best to ignore her gaze- but couldn’t stand it any longer. He gave her a nod and a small, forced smile before heading for the adjoining subway car. Hopefully, he’d find an empty seat free from gawkers and onlookers.

But when he opened the door to the next car, he didn’t find the peace and quiet he’d hoped for.

“I’m not interested…” you said to the creepy guy sitting next to you.

“Oh, come on,” the man insisted. “Don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He rested a hand on your thigh and gave your leg a squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Fuck off, dude. Seriously?” You banished his hand and stood from your seat, “eat glass, asshole.”

But as you tried to make your getaway, the man grabbed you by the wrist. He pulled you close as you struggled in his grip, his face only inches from yours. “Maybe you should learn some fuckin’ manners,” he threw you to the ground, your head striking the floor.

Bucky flew into a blind rage. He made quick work of your assailant, nearly removing the man’s head from his body. And with the entitled dickhead desperately escaping to another subway car, Bucky made his way to your side.

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat on the floor, slightly dazed. A thick fog settled into every corner of your mind and your ears stung with a sharp ringing. “Yeah, I’m good. Didn’t hurt that bad,” you lied. Yet another interaction with an unknown man. Yes, he’d shooed away your creeper, but you wanted to be left alone. No more strange men, no more men pretending to be “one of the good guys” before showing their true self.

If you could convince this random guy that you were okay, maybe he wouldn’t bother you. Maybe you’d be able to make it home without being touched by another strange hand. “Thanks for asking, but I’m-”

“Oh- you’re bleeding”. Only then did you notice the rush of warmth running down the back of your neck. Bucky yanked the jacket from his body and reached for your bloodied skull before quickly recoiling. “Erm, can I?”

You nodded- the motion made you wince.

With cautious hands, he used his jacket to hold pressure to your wound. He stared down at you with genuine concern, his brow furrowed with worry.

After a few moments, most of the fog cleared and brought you screeching back to reality. The reality in which a man you’d never met held his jacket to your bleeding scalp as you sat on the floor of a subway car. Pain pulsed beneath his touch and shot through your head. Warm blood dripped down your neck. But you didn’t care- all you wanted was to move.

Bucky watched as you struggled to get up and instantly tried to stop you. “Hey, careful. I don’t think-”

“I don’t wanna be on this floor any longer than I have to,” you did your best to stand, but the dizziness sabotaged your efforts. “People do weird shit on the train. I’d probably sitting in someone’s pee.”

Bucky gave it a thought and instantly reconsidered his cautioning. “Ew. Yeah. You’re right,” the disgusted look on his face nearly made you laugh out loud. He thought back on all the questionable and downright nasty things he’d seen on the subway- he didn’t want you on that floor. “May I?” He offered you his free hand and got you safely into a seat.

“Which stop is yours?” He asked, settling into the chair next to you. And though he seemed like a perfect gentleman, you gave him a suspicious glance.

“Oh- I didn’t mean that in a ‘where do you live, I’m gonna follow you home’ type of way. More like, ‘how many stops do you have left before you can go get some rest?’ type of way”

You let out a laugh that sent pain pulsing behind your eyes. Maybe this stranger wasn’t so bad. “Um, I still have like five to go. I think. I’m coming all the way from Coney Island.”

“Coney Island, huh?” A rush of memories hit Bucky like a train. Riding the cyclone with Steve and watching him puke. Spending all his money to win a stuffed animal for some redhead he had a crush on.

“Yeah, I got to hang out with a girl I know from college. Haven’t seen her in a while and she’s never been out there. It was actually a pretty great day until that asshole cracked my head open…”

Bucky grimaced. He pulled his jacket from your scalp to give the wound another look, only to be greeted by a continuous flow of blood. “I think you should probably go to the ER. You might need stitches. And there’s a good chance you have a concussion.”

You shot him only a nonchalant shrug, “I’m not worried about it. Plus, I don’t feel like going into debt so they can give me two Tylenol and an ice pack”.

Bucky liked your sense of humor, your wit. How you could be cheeky and sarcastic after being accosted surprised him. But he clocked the tension in your shoulders, the worry in your eyes. You were uneasy. Your glance darted from one end of the subway car to the other every few seconds; he knew you had to be searching for your assailant. Or the next man who wanted to touch you without permission.

“Hey, would you rather take a cab home?” Bucky said, pulling you from your anxious spiral. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want to ride the train after what happened.”

“Oh, um…”

“I’m not inviting myself home with you-” Bucky shook his head. He was cute when he got flustered. “I just mean, I’ll pay for you to take a cab if you’re uncomfortable.”

How you seemed to meet both the bottom of the barrel and the crème de le crème of men back-to-back nearly gave you whiplash. But this handsome stranger had done enough; you couldn’t let him pay for your ride home. “That’s- wow, that’s really sweet. But you don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“What if I want to? You seem uneasy… like you’re waiting for him to come back.”

You nodded.

“Then let’s get you a cab, alright? Next stop, we’re outta here.” He shot you a wink before once again reassuring you that he was not going to follow you home. “Is there someone who can keep an eye on you, though? Like I said, you probably have a concussion. And if your roommate or, um, significant other can sit with you for the rest of the night, that would be a good idea. Head injuries are no joke.”

“Well, I don’t have a significant other,” you almost laughed. “And my roommate’s out of town. She was supposed to get back around sevenish, but her flight got crazy delayed because of weather- now she’s not getting home for a few hours.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. He checked his watch and saw that it was only 8:04pm. He needed someone to sit with you for the rest of the night. Just in case something happened, you’d need a friend or loved one by your side. And if you didn’t have someone there with you, Bucky knew he’d spend the remainder of his evening worrying about the cute stranger he met on the train.

Just then, the subway stopped. Bucky offered you his arm and guided you onto the platform and up the stairs- all while keeping his jacket in place against your wound. Getting away from the train eliminated your unease. No longer were you trapped in the tiny space, your blood staining the floor. You had an escort in the form of a good samaritan, and a ride that would get you home without any further abuse.

But when Bucky hailed you a cab, your anxiety resurfaced.

“Hey, um…” you eyed the car as it approached, “Would you- do you mind riding with me?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side.

“I don’t know- I’m just a little nervous and I don’t really wanna be in a cab alone with another random man,” you said. “I know it’s probably inconvenient for you- I’ll pay for your ride home from my place.” The taxi neared the curb and stopped in front of you, sending your unease into overdrive. “Do you mind?”

Bucky clocked your wide eyes and shaking hands. Sure, you made jokes and sarcastic quips about what happened. But deep down, you were shaken. And he wanted to help in any way he could. “Not at all- I get it,” he gave you a reassuring look, “and you don’t have to pay for my ride. Let’s just get you home, alright?”

He held the door open for you and helped you into the cab before sliding in behind you- his hand still attached to your bloody skull. The ride was quiet, save for the honking of horns and cursing drivers. But having Bucky with you for the duration eased your discomfort.

“So, is there anyone you can call to come look after you?” Bucky asked after a while, “A friend, a neighbor, a family member?”

“I don’t really have any friends,” you said. “But not in a ‘I’m a loser and can’t make friends’ kind of way, I promise.” Bucky laughed. You liked his laugh. “I’m just still kinda new here. And all my family lives in across the country. Plus, I only know two of my neighbors. One of them is an old man who always tell me my skin looks ‘so soft’-”

Bucky’s nose wrinkled, “Ew…"

“Yeah. And the other is this girl who told me to shut the fuck up because she thinks my footsteps are too loud? So yeah, I don’t have many connections here yet.”

He sensed a little embarrassment staining your words and aimed to make you feel better, “Well I’ve lived here for quite some time, and I don’t have any friends, either.”

That didn’t seem possible to you. He was so likable. Quiet, yet endearing. And certainly, a gentleman. He made you feel safe. You wondered how his girlfriend would react when she found out he took another woman home.

Bucky found himself wondering how you didn’t have swaths of friends. Even after your harrowing experience on the train, you were so charming. Funny. Sweet. It was even harder for him to believe you didn’t have a love interest to go home to. But after what he’d witnessed tonight, he didn’t blame you for keeping to yourself.

“What part of town do you live in?” You did your best to conceal the optimism in your voice, the hoped that he lived close by. It was embarrassing how smitten you were with this man.

“Brooklyn,” Bucky said. “I’ve lived there for a while- save for some years I spent, um, away.”

Brooklyn. Nothing a quick train ride couldn’t solve. Though you weren’t too keen on the subway after the night’s events. “Well, tell your girlfriend that I apologize for keeping you so long.”

“I don’t have one,” Bucky said. Things inside the cab fell quiet.

“Oh. Well, do you-” you second guessed yourself, but decided to push through. “Do you want to stay with me until my roommate gets home? You know, since you’re so worried about me and my possible concussion and my lack of friends.��

Bucky stopped breathing. “Oh, um. Sure. Yeah. If that’s- if that’s alright. You sure you’re okay inviting a stranger into your house?”

“Well, you’re not really a stranger, Sergeant Barnes”. You shot him a wink.

An immediate ringing filled Bucky’s ears. He didn’t know what to say, how to react.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Bucky’s mind echoed with the sound of your voice referring to him by name. He liked the way it sounded coming from you. But he hated that you knew who- and what- he was. And when the cab turned onto your street and stopped in front of your apartment, he nearly panicked. He reconsidered his agreement to stay with you. But you didn’t seem to mind having the ex-Winter Soldier so close. And he didn’t want you to be alone with a head injury.

Against his better judgement, he followed you to the front door of your building.

“My great aunt actually lived here back in the fifties,” you told Bucky as you fumbled for your keys. Bucky wondered how you could tell casual stories while dealing with a head injury and an ex-assassin. But as you continued to speak, he realized that he didn’t quite hear what you’d said. He was still reeling from your mention of his name.

And then he noticed you struggling. You were dizzy after cracking your head open, and a slight shaking rendered your hands almost useless. No matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t seem to finagle the key into the lock.

“Um, do you want some help?” He gestured to your keys and allowed you to drop them into his free hand. He pushed the old door open with a loud creak and escorted you inside the lobby- his hand still resting on the back of your head. It was quiet while the two of you waited for the ancient elevator to roar to life. And when the doors finally opened, he guided you inside and watched you press the ‘5’ button.

“So… how’d you know it was me?” He asked as the elevator slowly climbed to your floor.

“Well, when I first saw you, I thought you looked kinda familiar. But I couldn’t place you”. You laughed a quiet, bashful laugh, “Then you knelt down next to me, and I thought I was gonna pass out- but not from the head trauma. You just you have like, the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.” The head injury had you a bit loopy, a little too honest. Too confident. “I knew I’d seen those eyes before… and then it clicked. You were so chivalrous, you know? So old fashioned. I mean, who uses their own jacket to stop a stranger’s head wound from bleeding?”

Bucky shrugged. His cheeks flushed pink.

“I read a book a few years ago about Captain America and his efforts during World War II. And there was a huge portion about Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes… And that’s where I’d seen those eyes.” You flashed him a dramatic wink, “Truth be told, it was my favorite part of the book.”

A shy laugh made its way out of Bucky’s mouth, “Is that so?”

The elevator lurched to a stop and nearly sent you tumbling to the floor. You’d gotten used to the clunky machine since moving into the building, but your sabotaged equilibrium didn’t stand a chance against it. Bucky caught you in a careful, protective grasp before you could tip over. He gently righted you and searched your face for any indicators of discomfort.

“You alright?”

“All good, Sergeant Barnes.” You gave him a salute.

He rolled his eyes and escorted you into the hall, “you can just call me Bucky, if you like.”

“Okay, Bucky-” you said with a smile, “follow me.” You lead him in the direction of your apartment- with his jacket still plastered to your scalp. The man was determined to help you. You’d give him that.

You once again needed his assistance when it came to unlocking your front door. But when Bucky got the door open, he just stood there. He didn’t go inside. He held the door for you and insisted you go ahead, finally peeling the jacket from your wound. He knew he didn’t belong here.

You noticed how tentative he was about entering your home and beckoned him inside. “You can come in…” you said. “Are super soldiers like vampires? Do y’all need an invitation?”

Bucky laughed, “No. I just… I don’t do this kind of thing very often.”

“Oh, you don’t accompany injured women home from the subway on a weekly basis? I’m shocked.”

You flipped on the light and let the warm glow reveal your apartment. Bucky admired the art covering your walls, the books lining your shelves, the smell of some kind of baked goods lingering in the air. This place was cozy, welcoming. Nothing like his apartment.

While he was distracted drinking in the details of your home, you gave his jacket a once over. Blood coated the leather and smeared the lining. It was enough to make you nauseous. “Sorry about this mess… here, let me clean it up for-”

“It’s leather- I’m not worried about it,” Bucky shrugged. “I’ll just wipe it off later.”

“Ew, I think that’s considered a biohazard, Sarge.”

Bucky’s laugh echoed through your home- you liked the sound of his voice bouncing around your space. “Well, lucky for me, I’m not susceptible to biohazards. So, really, it’s not a big deal.” He shot you a wink and hung his bloody jacket on the back of a chair. “Let me take a look at your head.”

He gently moved your hair out of the way enough to expose your wound. He was as careful as he possible not to hurt you or make things worse. And using the dish towel you offered him, he wiped away enough blood to get a good look.

“It’s big, but not deep enough to warrant stitches. And it looks like the bleeding has finally come to a stop.”

“Perfect. I’m gonna go take a shower” you said. “Make yourself at home. You’re welcome to anything in the fridge, except the kombucha. My roommate will murder you if you drink her kombucha.”

Bucky didn’t even know what kombucha was. “Are- are you sure you wanna go shower?”

“Um, yeah. Gotta get the subway-floor germs off me,” you gave a dramatic shudder. “Some of us are, indeed, susceptible to biohazards.”

“That’s fair,” he laughed, “I’m just a little worried about your balance… I think it’s probably seen better days.”

He wasn’t wrong. The floor did indeed seem to dip and shift under you unsuspecting feet. The room spun on occasion. The walls wiggled. But you needed to get cleaned up. “I’ll be extra careful. Promise.” You offered him your pinky and made him link his with yours. “But I have more blood in my hair than anyone should- I need a shower.” You left Bucky alone in your living room with a promise to be back soon.

It was strange for him, being in a stranger’s home like this. He didn’t get invited places or have friends to hang out with. He had Sam- and that was it. And while Sam was great, he never felt quite like this at Sam’s apartment. Something about your place warmed him, made him feel a little lighter. Or maybe it was you. Who was he kidding? Of course, it was you.

But Bucky knew this feeling couldn’t last. In a few hours, your roommate would return and send him home. And that would be the end of it. Of course, he’d be thrilled to see you again under better circumstances. But assuming he’d get that chance would only lead to disappointment. And so, as he waited for you to finish your shower, he did his best to remember this feeling just in case it was the last time.

“I said make yourself at home and you didn’t even sit down!” you said when you emerged from the bathroom. You found Bucky in the living room with his hands in his pockets, admiring your things as though he were in a museum. Looking, never touching. “Relax a little, sarge. The couch is really comfy, I promise.”

Bucky liked the way you looked with your skin still slightly damp form the shower, your hair wet and a little messy. “Oh, yeah- I just got distracted looking at all your…” he gestured to your bookcase, “your books and your tchotchkes. You have good taste- I like that you have two copies of Fellowship of the Ring.”

“Well, my sister dropped one of them in the lake at summer camp when we were kids…” you pointed to the faded cover and worn spine of the book in question. “She took a hairdryer to it and it’s mostly fine, but my mom made her get me a replacement. I just can’t seem to part with this one, though.” You plucked your water-damaged copy of Fellowship of the Ring from the shelf and flipped through the pages, “too much sentimental value. You know?

Bucky felt a small smile creeping upward- you didn’t mind damaged goods. Maybe you’d want to see him again after all.

“Can I get you a drink or something? I have water, tea, La Croix, wine…” you looked at him expectantly.

“Oh, no I’m okay-”

“Well, I’m going to the fridge for some water anyway, so you’re not saving me a trip…” you shot him a wink and began your trek to the kitchen. He followed in your footsteps, too much of a gentleman to let you fetch him a drink. And though he didn’t know what La Croix was, he took the one you offered him with a smile.

He followed you yet again, but to the couch this time. He sat a respectful distance away- as respectful as your small couch would allow- and taste tested the blackberry drink in his hand. It didn’t taste like blackberries. But he thanked you, anyway.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to check in on you after your shower- he was too entranced by the sight of you in your pajamas. “Hey, how’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints.”

Maybe it was too forward of a joke. Maybe someone from his time wouldn’t appreciate crass humor. Bucky’s cheeks flushed red- and he burst into laughter. You joined him, ignoring the throbbing pain in your skull.

“It feels fine. I mean, it hurts, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before” you said. “Are you just gonna make sure I stay up all night?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “uh, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh…” you grew a little embarrassed. “I thought you couldn’t go to sleep if you have a concussion.”

“You can go to sleep- it’s just good to have someone check in on you now and then,” he said. “And, hey, you don’t have to stay in here with me- don’t feel like you have to entertain me, or anything. If you wanna go to bed, I’ll be fine out here.”

“Well, I don’t know about entertaining, cause I think the concussion kinda fucked up my ability to tap dance,” you laughed. “But I wanna hang out here with you- if you don’t mind the company.”

He gave you a shy smile, “I don’t mind at all.”

Bucky wasn’t anything like the tabloids said. He wasn’t cold or scary or threatening. He sat on your couch, sipping a La Croix and admiring your throw blanket. He was the farthest thing from intimidating. He had a quiet calm about him that brought you peace. Never did you think you’d invite a man you met on the subway to accompany you home. But Bucky made you feel safe. He was sweet, he clearly cared for your well-being. He was, by all definitions, perfect.

“So, what do superheroes do in their downtime?” you asked. “Like when you’re not saving the world, what do you do for fun?”

Bucky shrugged. He didn’t do anything for fun. “Um, I have court mandated therapy appointments,” he gave an awkward laugh. “I read. I hang out with Sam when he’s not in Louisiana visiting his sister. And I have lunch with a neighbor of mine every Wednesday- this old man named Yori.”

“I’m sure he could say the same about you- that he has lunch with some old man named Bucky.”

Bucky’s head fell back in a laugh, “yeah, you’re right. He’s- he’s about twenty years younger than me.” Bucky didn’t bring up the fact that Yori didn’t know his real age or anything about his past. About how the Winter Soldier killed his son. “Um, what about you?” He quickly changed the subject, “what do you do for fun?”

You thought it over for a moment. You hadn’t expected him to ask; most guys never asked what you liked to do for fun. They didn’t ask you anything at all, really. “Well, I also go to therapy,” you said. “My therapist’s name is Angela and I love her. And when I’m not ‘hanging out’ with Angela, I like to read. I like to go on walks. Oh, and I do a lot of baking- there’s a Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies on the island if you want some.”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide. He was off the couch quicker than you could comprehend and returned with the entire Tupperware in hand. But before he could dive in, he offered one to you. He was a gentleman, after all.

“Oh, shit, these are so good”. Bucky wiped a stray crumb from his lip, “seriously, maybe the best I’ve ever had.”

His praise made your cheeks hot. Bucky Barnes called you ‘the best he ever had’- it was enough to make you sweat. “Oh, I’m flattered. The recipe’s been in my family for generations, though, so I can’t take full credit, but I-”

“I’m giving you full credit”, he said as he finished his second cookie. “These things are incredible.”

You smiled so hard it hurt. “Well, I make at least one batch a week, so…” This was it, your excuse to see Bucky again. You could simply say that you wanted to bake him some cookies as a way of saying thank you, and then you’d ask him out. It was a perfect plan, really. A flawless, surefire way to guarantee that you’d see him at least once more. But as you tried to suggest baking him a ‘thank you’ batch, your mouth flooded with saliva.

Bucky clocked the way you grew suddenly quiet. He dropped his third cookie and inched closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? Do you need something?”

You did your best to push past the wave of nausea. Breathing in your nose and out through your mouth, you willed your body to cooperate. You made a valiant effort, but it was no match for the clear and present threat of vomit. This was happening- now. You scrambled to your feet and made a beeline for the bathroom, swearing to yourself you wouldn’t puke in front of the James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky rushed after you and found you kneeling in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of your stomach. “Oh, shit- here, let me,” he carefully moved your hair out of your face, holding it behind you in an imitation ponytail. His touch was gentle, cautious. He didn’t want to pull too hard and hurt you- you didn’t need any extra pain.

He watched your body lurch as you wretched over and over, voiding your system completely. It was harsh, almost violent. And when you finally sat back on your heels, black and white spots danced through your field of vision. You were empty. Spent. Exhausted.

“Hey, do me a favor and sit against this wall, okay?” Bucky guided you backward until you rested comfortably like he asked. “I’m gonna go get you some water, and I don’t want you tipping over while I’m gone.” Even in your despondent, miserable state, he still made you smile. And when he was certain that you wouldn’t injure yourself in his absence, he rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He returned moments later with ice cold water in hand. “Thanks,” you croaked, your throat raw. Small sips of the cool water eased the burning. And a few more swigs rid your mouth of the unpleasant aftertaste. “I’m sure you weren’t planning on watching a stranger puke tonight,” you laughed. It made your head pound. “But I appreciate the water. And you holding my hair.”

Bucky plopped down next to you with a “sure thing” and a “don’t worry about it.” But you’d heard those phrases before. You’d heard them from people who were never a sure thing, people who made you worry about everything they did for you. They’d throw their rare acts of kindness in your face and use them as ammo in an attempt to disprove the pain they caused. It was condescending. Manipulative. Hurtful. But Bucky meant what he said. All he wanted to do was help. You could tell.

He watched you catch your breath. Watched you drink your water in small sips. But he kept an eye out for another wave of nausea. He wanted to be ready in case he needed to hold your hair again. And he found himself thanking the universe that you’d invited him in; imagining you going through this by yourself broke his heart.

“How do you feel?” he asked after a while.

“Not the best... but I’ll probably survive.”

Bucky’s laugh filled the room, “well, that’s very good news.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence. Bucky’s hand rested near yours. Your thigh bumped against his a few times. You swore electric currents passed between the two of you each time you touched.

“Hey, if you don’t mind, could you grab me some Tylenol?”

Bucky was up in an instant, ready to fetch you what you needed. But he found himself lost with no idea where he was going. He was so intent on helping, on making you feel better, that he was ready to run off without a map.

“In the cabinet to the left of the fridge,” you laughed.

He shot you a wink and sped off. And while he rummaged through your cabinet, you made an embarrassing effort to stand. You rose on wobbly legs, determined to brush your teeth. There was no way you were going to have vomit breath around Bucky- absolutely not. He was the handsome stranger of your dreams. And you couldn’t screw this up; not that you thought he’d kiss a random concussed woman he met on the subway. But you wanted to leave the very best impression possible.

Bucky came screeching own the hall, bottle of Tylenol in hand. “I didn’t know how many you wanted, so I brought the whole thing”, he shrugged. You shot him a smile in the mirror and gave him a muffled “thanks”.

He stood patiently in the doorway, waiting for you finish brushing your teeth. And when you banished the rank taste of bile, you accepted the Tylenol. You tossed back four pills, and before you could reach for your water, Bucky retrieved it for you. He was one step ahead of what you needed.

With the pills washed down your throat, you gave Bucky an expectant look. “Back to the couch?”

“Yeah, I mean, only if you’re feeling up to it,” he checked his watch. Noticed the yawn you tried to keep concealed. “If you wanna get some rest, please, don’t mind me. You can go to bed- I’ll be fine on my own.”

“No, I’m good. I’m fine,” you took him by the hand and led him back to the living room. “I’m having a good time.” Bucky didn’t say a word; he just let you guide him. He hadn’t held hands with someone in- he didn’t know how long. And holding hands with you- a stranger he’d grown rather smitten with- was enough to stop his heart.

The two of you sunk back into the couch- closer this time- and kept the conversation going. Your thigh rested against Bucky’s; his arm curved around the back of the couch. You could’ve sworn he was playing with a piece of your hair as he talked. But you didn’t want to ask and ruin the moment.

As the night continued, Bucky was shocked. He couldn’t believe you’d only heard of a few of his favorite movies. And he’d never heard of any of yours. “Make me a list,” you said, handing him a pen and a scrap of paper. “And I’ll make one for you. A person’s favorite movies say a lot about them.”

“Yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. “And what do mine say about me? The ones you know of, that is.”

A sly smile pulled at your lips, “they say that you’re a hopeless romantic.” It almost sounded like an accusation, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is that so?”

“That is so!” you told him. “But I’m gonna tell you a secret…” You lowered your voice, beckoned him closer, scanned the room as though in search of any eavesdroppers. “I’m the same way.”

Just as you finished your list of movies for Bucky, you considered writing down your number. It would be so smooth, so perfectly timed- but what if he thought it was too forward? What if he didn’t want your phone number at all? You scratched out your area code and handed him the list with a smile.

The two of you continued teasing and joking and learning about each other. You found out that Bucky loved peach cobbler. He learned about your passion for animals. And eventually you asked the question you’d been curious about all night.

“So, where were you headed?”

“What?”

“Well, you were on the subway. I’m assuming you were going somewhere.” You thought he was probably going to some fellow hero’s house for Super Movie Night. Or maybe a meeting with Captain America and Company. He had something much cooler to do than anything you planned for the night, that was for sure.

“Oh, right…” he cringed. “Um, I wasn’t actually heading anywhere. I was just riding the train to, well, ride the train.” It was embarrassing. More embarrassing than anything he’d ever done or said in his hundred years of life.

You cocked your head to the side, “Hmm. Interesting. So, is that like a hobby of yours?”

He wished he could take his answer back. He wished he would’ve said he was going to dinner. Or Target. Or literally anywhere. But no, he just had to be honest. “No, it isn’t a hobby. It’s more like… exposure therapy.”

“Shit. Sorry,” you threw him an apologetic look. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“It’s okay, no big deal. I just- I don’t really like confined spaces. Or spaces with a lot of people. It’s a- it’s a long story.”

You nodded.

“So, my therapist told me two combine the two and force myself to take the train- which isn’t great for my fear of trains,” he let out an awkward laugh. “Anyway, I was just trying it out. Seeing how it made me feel.”

Your heart broke for him. He had so many problems, so much trauma to deal with. And while you weren’t a psychiatrist, you didn’t think combining three of his fears into one nightmare was very sound medical advice. “And how did it make you feel?”

“It wasn’t great- this lady was staring daggers at me for ten solid minutes. But I did get to teach that creepy guy a lesson, so at least there’s a silver lining.”

You laughed. He loved the sound- wanted to hear it all the time.

“Thank you again, by the way, Sarge. You really rocked that guy’s shit.”

“I don’t like hurting people-” he shrugged, “It’s just something I’m good at. I try not to engage in violence unless absolutely necessary, you know? But that guy deserved it. Probably deserved a little more, but…” He gestured to you, “priorities.”

A warm rush flooded your cheeks. James Buchanan Barnes referred to you as a priority.

The evening continued as the two of you swapped stories. You couldn’t believe how funny he was, how many ridiculous things he did back when he was young. In the comfortable safety of your living room, he came alive. You asked for more tales of young James Barnes and his antics with Steve Rogers.

But as time passed, Bucky clocked the way you sank deeper into the couch. You nodded along with his stories and made comments here and there, but there was no mistaking your exhaustion. You leaned against his body more and more until your head rested on his shoulder.

And then, you were asleep. Completely out.

But Bucky didn’t mind. He sat still and quiet. He silenced his phone and yours. After the night you had, you needed the rest. And he was more than happy to help you get some sleep. He held in his laughter as you muttered nonsense under your breath- something about crepes and trench coats. It was perfect. Not the night Bucky expected, but the night he needed. And he’d stay in that exact position for hours if he had to.

But after only forty minutes, a loud crash scared you awake.

Two large pieces of luggage fell to the floor inside your front door. “Fuck Delta airlines and FUCK LAX!” your roommate, Emma, yelled. “I swear to god, there’s a curse on that fucking airport and Delta is the devil’s airline.”

She eyed the room for a moment, taking in the unexpected scene. “Ew, why is there a bloody jacket in the kitchen? And who the fuck are you?”

You stood, begrudgingly leaving your spot next to Bucky. “This is Bucky, that’s his jacket. Some asshole attacked me on the train. I split my head open. He brought me home and kept an eye on me till you got back.”

Maybe she was just in a shit mood because of the travel nightmare. Or maybe she recognized Bucky. But either way, Emma wasn’t having it. “Okay, well, thanks for bringing her home. But I’m back, so you can go. Now. And don’t forget your nasty jacket.”

Bucky gave an awkward laugh. He mumbled a “nice to meet you” and stood from the couch. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and you wished telepathy came with the serum. If he could only read your mind, he’d know how sorry you were. How horrified you were by Emma’s behavior. You couldn’t believe how rude she was being, how utterly unkind.

But your mind and body weren’t quite working together. You were still groggy, lost in the haze of sleep. And your head injury only made things more difficult. You did your best to formulate a response to Emma and an apology to Bucky. But before you could say anything, Emma was at it again.

“Seriously, dude. It’s time for you to go, get out of my house.”

Bucky was so flustered, so uncomfortable that he left without saying goodbye. Without getting your number. He shut down. He simply snagged his jacket from the kitchen and bailed. He heard you arguing with Emma as he walked down the hall. Heard you near-tears.

He wanted to turn around and say goodnight. To protect you from Emma’s wrath. Comfort you. More than anything, he wanted to get your number. Maybe ask you out. But he was too thrown off by the whole thing. He didn’t expect such a response- he didn’t even get to tell Emma that you needed looking after. He just ran. And it made him feel like a coward.

He pressed the button for the ancient elevator once. Twice. Five times. And when it finally arrived, he got in and slammed the button for the first floor. Ruining his chances of ever seeing you again. Sure, he knew where you lived. But he couldn’t just show up. You’d already dealt with enough creepy shit from weird men- he wasn’t going to stalk you.

Bucky spent the entire elevator ride heartbroken. He knew he’d have to go home to his empty apartment; knew he’d think about you for way too long. You’d probably forget about him after a day- maybe two at the most. And he’d spend months trying to get over the stranger from the subway.

But when he stepped out of the elevator, he found you waiting for him.

“Hi, um… what?” He was more than a little confused. “How did you- how’d you get down here so fast?”

“Stairs,” you breathed. “Faster.”

Bucky couldn’t believe you. It was romantic; it was something out of one of his favorite movies. But it was stupid. “That was… that was a terrible idea- you could’ve gotten hurt. You almost fell over earlier when you were just standing still. Why’d you run down the stairs?”

“Cause I didn’t get to say goodbye…” your voice was soft, heartbroken. “And I didn’t get to give you my number.”

Wordlessly, Bucky handed you his phone. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to chance ruining such a perfect opportunity. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, of all people. That you actually wanted to see him again.

When you finished, you extended Bucky’s phone in his direction- but recoiled as he tried to reach for it. “Promise me you’ll call?”

“On my life,” he said. The answer brought a warm smile to your face- a smile he wanted to see again. As soon as possible. And when you gave his phone back, he took a moment to stare down at your number. This had to be a dream.

“Do me a favor and go get some rest, okay?” He extended his pinky and linked it with yours, “Drink a lot of water. And even though she seems like she’s in a bad mood, ask your roommate to check in on you every now and then.”

“Yeah, like she’s gonna go for that-”

“Tell her that if she doesn’t, I’m coming back to look after you myself. And I’ll drink her, her um…”

“Kombucha,” you whispered.

“Right, I’ll drink her Kombucha!” He laughed and shot you a wink, “That’ll do the trick.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiggled your pinky with his, and stepped into the still-open elevator doors. “Thank you for everything. I’m really happy I met you.”

Bucky blushed. “So am I. Not under the best circumstances, but-”

“Worth it,” you shot him a wink. Just as the doors began to close, the two of you exchanged waves. And just before Bucky vanished from view, you threw a quick “call me” his way. And then he was gone.

You made it back to your apartment, nearly tripping over Emma’s luggage. She apologized as you grabbed a glass of water and nearly cried when you told her the story of your evening. And though you wanted to hear about her airport nightmare, you needed to sleep.

You got settled in bed and realized- you missed Bucky already.

And just as you decided to go to sleep for the night, your phone buzzed:

“Wanted to call but figured it might be too soon- seeing as it’s only been about four minutes. I’ll call you in the morning. And just so you know: even without the tap dancing, I found you very entertaining. I’m really glad I met you.

If you need anything at all, let me know. Feel better.

-JBB”

—————————————

Taglist: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl l @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll l @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi i @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo

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imaginejamesandsirius · 4 years ago

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I love the way you write James and Sirius so much. I was wondering if you could write a soulmate au where you see bits and pieces of your soulmate in your dreams (fav color, hear their laugh, see things they like, etc) and James is pretty sure Sirius is his soulmate but isn’t completely sure. If not, don’t worry about it but if you can, thank you!💕💕

Soulmate dreams were different from regular dreams. Regular dreams were weird, often nonsensical, and evaporated the next day after being awake for long enough. Soulmate dreams lingered. There was still a dreamlike quality to soulmate visions that couldn't be shaken, but they were more memorable than normal dreams. Soulmate dreams were weird for a lot of reasons, but mostly it was because they were so random. You never knew what you were going to get from one or why. Sometimes it was stuff they saw or were thinking about, and other times it was them.

For example, James knew that his soulmate had hair that went down at least to their chin, probably a little bit longer. He knew that because that day at Hogwarts, they'd been playing with their hair, and that night, he dreamed about it. He'd been aware of the professor at the front of the classroom during the dream, but after he woke, the only detail that remained was the hair.

Obviously that was just an example of a single dream. The dreams didn't come every night, but James had been dreaming of his soulmate for his entire life. He had a few details of his soulmate and how he could identify them, but most of it was stuff that his soulmate liked.

That's why James thought that his soulmate was Sirius. Sirius had the long hair, he had a laugh that warmed James to his core, and he had deep grey eyes that James had caught glimmers of from time looking in a mirror.

Soulmate dreams never showed the full face or let your hear someone saying their name. Hearing a laugh was pretty good, as far as identifying features went. If James could actually remember how it sounded instead of the way it made him feel, he'd know for sure if it was Sirius.

Another reason that he wasn't one hundred percent about it being Sirius was that most of his soulmate dreams were about food. Sodding food. Sirius was his best mate and all, and he knew him better than anyone else in his entire life, but Sirius's appetite seemed to change based on the planet's position and how late he'd stayed up the night before. James couldn't make heads or tails of it. Sometimes, Sirius said that he couldn't stand scrambled eggs and how dare he have to smell them on an otherwise pleasant morning. Two days later, he was wolfing them down like there was no other food in existence. And he did that with everything. Shepherd's pies, treacle tarts, beans and toast, soup... everything. Absolutely everything.

So it didn't really mean anything that one night James dreamed of mashed potatoes, and the next week, he dreamed of candied plums. He tried to connect it to Sirius's eating habits, but it was no use. Half the shite James's soulmate dreamed about wasn't food that Hogwarts had, anyways.

"Hey, Sirius?" James asked. They were in the library, doing homework. History of Magic would be a lot easier to pass if the professor actually looked at them every once in a while, but it meant that when they had an essay they needed to write, they had to actually go to the library if they wanted good marks.

"I'm not done with this yet," Sirius said, assuming that James was going to ask to see the book he was currently reading.

"Not that. Just- do you know who your soulmate is?"

Surprised, Sirius glanced up at him. "Why are you asking?"

"Do you know?"

"What does it matter?"

"Why are you being so weirdly closed off about it?"

"I'm not being weirdly closed off; I'm being normal closed off, and it's because I don't think you'll like the answer you get."

"So you do know who your soulmate is," James said. There was no other reason why Sirius couldn't tell him. 'No' was an easy answer. Lots of people didn't have enough details to figure out who their soulmate was-- and even if they did have plenty of details, there was nothing they could do if they hadn't met them.

Sirius scowled at him.

"Who is it?"

"Are we really doing this?" Sirius asked. "Right here in the library? You've never asked about it before but you're going to try and squeeze if out of me while we're in public?"

"The library doesn't count as public; there's no one else in sight."

"Maybe it's not public, but it's definitely not private. Do we really want to have this blow up right here? It'll be fun-- everyone can hear it and call it a domestic."

"We're not going to have a domestic," James said, rolling his eyes. "Just tell me who your soulmate is."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

James glared at him. "Because I won't shut it and let you finish your essay otherwise."

"You won't let me finish it if I do tell you."

"I will."

"Liar," Sirius said. "You always think you'll be calm, but you never sodding are."

"When have I ever tried to claim that I'll be calm and not followed through?"

"Normally, you're calm because you don't give a shite. You'll care about this, which means you won't be calm about it."

"You're overthinking this," James said. "Unless your soulmate is buggering Snape or- it's not Snape is it?"

"Ew, no."

James relaxed again. "Then we're fine."

"Why do you even care? You haven't cared in the past six years."

"Not bothering you about it isn't the same as not caring."

"So why do you care?"

James didn't feel like admitting to something so revealing, especially when Sirius had already admitted that he knew who his soulmate was, so he shrugged.

"A shrug isn't gonna cut it, Prongs."

He hesitated. "How about this: I'll tell you why I want to know after you tell me who it is."

Sirius didn't accept right away, which was enough to make him nervous. Then he sighed. "Fine, but you don't get to freak out. We're not going to be able to finish this essay on time if you freak out."

"We've worked under tighter time constraints."

Sirius stared at him flatly.

"Fine, fine, I promise. No freaking out." If Sirius's soulmate was James, then he could just be happy-- no freaking out required. If it wasn't James, then he'd be too sad to move. He was going to sit here and mope until curfew, if that was the case. "So?" he prodded, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"You shouldn't do that; it makes you look like your glasses are about to fall off."

With a huff, James let his face return to normal. "You're stalling."

"It's you."

"No, it's not. Do I look like I'm the one stalling?"

Sirius threw a quill at him. "You're my soulmate, you absolute arse."

"Oh." James blinked, then threw the quill back at him. "You could've told me that the first time I asked, tosser." Shaking his head at Sirius's particular brand of ridiculous, he turned back to his essay.

"That's it?" Sirius asked, so incredulous that James looked up at him again.

"Erm. Yes? I mean, obviously there's stuff I want to talk about, but I promised I'd let you finish your essay if you told me."

"Actually, I think what you promised was that you wouldn't freak out."

"I can do both."

Sirius stared at him for a long moment. "Did you already know that I was your soulmate?"

"I had my suspicions."

"How the hell did you only have suspicions? I knew it was you after we were dormmates for a week."

"Okay," James said, pointing a finger at him, "you don't get to judge me. I was only ever dreaming about food! You're so buggering weird; couldn't you have just picked two foods you liked and stuck with that? I dream about red curry, and then the next day, you refuse to eat it. Talk about mixed signals. I've been guessing at your favourite foods for sodding years."

"It's not my fault that sometimes I'm in the mood for something that stinks," Sirius muttered petulantly.

"So you're in the mood to eat it, but you refuse to because it smells bad?" James asked. He wasn't judging, but he couldn't really relate. He had a couple foods that he didn't like, but everything else was fair game. Comparatively, Sirius was the most picky eater in the world. Not that James really cared, except for the soulmate thing. "And you couldn't have explained that to me earlier?"

"I didn't realise your sanity was on the line," Sirius said dryly, but his expression was still that touch of vulnerable that he only got around James.

"My sanity is always on the line when you don't tell me things," James said, flashing him a grin that helped soothe Sirius's nerves. "Look, it won't take us that long to finish this, so let's get it done with and..."

"And?" Sirius asked, quirking a smile at him.

"Well," James said, trying to push down the warmth bubbling in him-- if he let it do its own thing, he'd never be able to focus on finishing this essay. "We can figure that out later."

The fond look on Sirius's face made it clear that he knew exactly what 'figure that out later' would end up meaning for them. They'd snog for a while, fall asleep, then wake up, snog some more, and then talk about it. That talk would probably go along the lines of 'soulmates? cool', but at least they would've done it. "Alright," Sirius said. He picked his quill back up and looked at the book he'd been reading before James interrupted him.

It would almost be like nothing had changed, except Sirius now had a faint smile on his face, and James couldn't ignore the happy butterflies in his chest if he tried. Without looking up, Sirius nudged his leg with one of his own feet. James glanced at him, and Sirius's smile widened, eyes still stuck to the page. James chuckled and turned his attention back to the essay, but he kept his leg where it was, pressed up against Sirius's.

#prongsfoot #marauders #fanfic #james potter #sirius black #filled #hogwarts time #getting together #no voldemort au #soulmates #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

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shipmistress9 · 4 years ago

Text

Sex Toy Advent Calendar: Day 5: Clearly Weird Lube

Fandom: HTTYD

Rating: M

Pairing: Hiccup/Astrid

Words: 2325

Read on AO3

Summary: Day 5 of the Sex Toy Advent Calendar. Today's gift leaves a lot to be desired. Just good that Hiccup is good at improvising.

AN: This one... I don't even know. *scratches head* They did most of it on their own?

. o O o .

With curiosity and anticipation tingling in her belly, Astrid waited for Hiccup to pull out the box of the day from their calendar. It was yet again a black box with the golden number ‘5’ printed on the side. What made this one exciting, though, was the fact that it was the biggest box they’d had so far. And even though she knew that size didn’t matter… much… she was still burning with excitement. Initially, she’d thought little of this calendar, had only seen it as an expensive joke. But after the last few days, her expectations were rather high. She only had to work a few hours in the morning today, and then they were both free to enjoy today’s gift for hours.

“Come on, Hiccup, don’t keep me in suspense here,” she demanded, bouncing impatiently. “What is it?”

“Oh, now I’m not supposed to do that?” He had a teasing glint in his eyes, and Astrid groaned.

“You know exactly what I mean! You can suspend me like that whenever you want. As long as you finally open this box and show me what's inside!”

Chuckling, he complied. “All right, all right, let’s have a look. It’s pretty heavy in comparison. I wonder… Oh.” A slight frown appeared on his forehead.

“Hiccup!”

“Yeah, I know, I know. No suspense.” He let the box’s content roll into his large hand, a plastic bottle with some clear gel inside. “It’s… it looks like… lube?”

“Lube?” Puzzled, Astrid took the bottle and inspected it. “You’re right. It’s really lube. Heh… I wouldn’t have thought lube counts as a sex toy, though. More like… essential equipment for comfortable sex?”

Thoughtfully, Hiccup nodded. “Agreed. Although, this seems to be some special lube. What does it say on the label?”

Astrid took another look at the bottle, and couldn’t hold back a snort. “Oh, yeah. Special lube, all right…” She held the bottle out for him to read the label, too. “Special fragrance, fitting for the season. Backed Apple.”

Hiccup’s nose twitched. “For real? Okay… erm. Weird! But, hey. It’s free lube. What are we going to do with it?”

Throwing him a bemused glance, Astrid opened the bottle and raised it to her nose. “Well, I can always peg you if you feel up to—Ew!” Grimacing, she held the bottle away from her. “Yeah, no, not when you smell like that though. Esh, that’s some penetrative stench.”

With a slight frown, Hiccup took the bottle and sniffed it, too, but only to grimace and firmly close the lid a moment later. “Oh, that’s horrible,” he agreed, shuddering. “Have these people ever smelled baked apples? How… how…” He looked baffled, and honestly, Astrid felt the same.

“Can lube turn bad?”

Hiccup shrugged. “Possible? That would at least be an explanation.” He placed the bottle onto a sideboard and threw it a disdainful look.

“Yeah… Disappointing, though.” Astrid’s shoulders slumped. “Not that we can’t entertain ourselves without these toys, but…”

“I know what you mean. It’s not quite the same.”

After throwing the bottle of awfully smelling lube into the waste bin, they ate breakfast. Sulking, Astrid shovelled porridge into her mouth, and the fact that it was poorly flavoured as apple and cinnamon didn’t exactly help to improve her mood. “It’s ridiculous,” she exclaimed a few minutes later. “Even this porridge is out to annoy me now.”

Cocking his head, Hiccup’s eyes brightened. ”I might have an idea.”

. o O o .

By the time Astrid had finished her work for that day, her mood had calmed down—but not yet improved. It was ridiculous. It shouldn’t matter. She and Hiccup were together for so long now, not knowing what to do with a free afternoon definitely was not a disaster. They could make a video game contest, or maybe there even was some interesting film in the cinema. Or, if it truly was the sex she’d expected, then they had enough toys and options to choose from. They could simply use their usual lube instead and see where it led them.

But that just wasn’t the same… Damn anticipation!

Sighing in annoyance at herself, she let herself into their flat—and paused right there in the doorway. That scent… was that…?

“Ah, perfect timing.” Hiccup greeted her with a warm smile and a peck to the corner of her mouth. “It should be done in a matter of minutes now.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, but didn’t really need an answer. The scent that wafted to her nose the moment she left the entrance room was telling enough and made her mouth water. “Did you seriously make baked apples?”

With a small smile, Hiccup shook his head. “Not quite. I was thinking about it, but since I had enough time today…” He trailed off as they entered the kitchen, just as the oven made a demanding beep.

Astrid’s eyes went wide, her lips splitting into a huge grin. “You made apple pie?”

“My Grandma’s recipe,” he confirmed. “I thought it would be a good way to make up for the disappointment this morning.”

“Mmm, perfect!” She stretched to give him a quick kiss. “And you are, too.”

The cake was indeed perfect, but Astrid had no genuine doubts about that, anyway. Hiccup’s cooking skills were amazing, and he was passionate about his baking as well; which was something Astrid happily and regularly indulged in.

After eating a couple of slices each, they were both too full to even think about eating dinner anytime soon. Or doing anything else, really.

With a satisfied groan, Astrid leaned back in her chair. “That truly was a fantastic compensation for the Baked Apple disaster this morning. Kudos to you for coming up with an equally pleasant alternative.”

Hiccup snorted. “What? Are you trying to say that my cake is just as bad as that lube? Wow… and here I thought, you’d enjoyed the cake.”

“Noooo!” She threw a small piece of leftover cake at him; barely more than a crumb, really, and it didn’t even reach him. “Muttonhead. I meant that I’m too full for sex now. And I don’t even regret it. Much.”

“So, you’re saying that my cake was as good as sex?” He took a moment to exaggeratedly think about her words, bis long finger tipping against his chin almost comically. “Okay, that’s something I can live with.”

Laughing at her dorky, wonderful boyfriend, she stood up to carry their dishes to the kitchen, stealing a kiss from him on her way.

“How about we get comfortable on the couch and watch a movie or two?” she called back to him. “I think that would be a great way to wrap this day up.”

Hiccup agreed, and they moved to settle comfortably on the couch.

“Do you want to take your prosthetic off?” Astrid asked before she sat down.

Hiccup looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be better. Could you get my crutches from the bedroom?”

She did as asked and placed the crutches in their usual spot next to the couch, within easy reach. There was no need for her to offer that she would help him, too, if he needed to get up. Hiccup knew and appreciated that, and regularly relied on her help already if his amputation site acted up on a bad day. But he preferred to be independent if possible, and Astrid respected that.

A little while later, they both sat on their couch, comfortable side by side and wrapped in a soft blanket. They'd put glasses, a bottle of water, and even a bag of chocolate-covered nuts on the low table in front of them—in case they got hungry later. But for the moment, they were both happy to just let the cake settle.

Even though the film, Pirates of the Caribbean, was one of her favourites, it didn’t take long until her full stomach made Astrid sleepy. At first, she only leaned against Hiccup's shoulder and enjoyed the cosy comfort of his arm around her shoulders. Too often, life got so hectic lately, so moments like these were precious to her. However, even sitting became too demanding after a while, and she shifted until her head rested in his lap, humming as he absentmindedly caressed her hair.

She must have fallen asleep like this. The next thing she remembered, the film had jumped to a point much later in the story, and outside, the sky had turned from dull grey to black. Groaning, she shifted into another position, intent on making herself comfortable again, when a familiar hand on her shoulder shook her awake again.

“Astrid? I’m sorry, but I need to get up.”

Accepting the inevitable, she let him move. She cracked one eye open to make sure he could reach his crutches, but then quickly drifted off again, the low noises coming from the TV lulling her in quickly. She barely noticed how Hiccup came back, only heard his quiet chuckling before he crawled onto the couch behind her.

The next time she awoke, it was to Captain Jack Sparrow and Bootstrap Bill talking to each other. Had Hiccup put on the second movie? Had she slept through the first one entirely?

With a sleepy moan, she shifted around until she could look up at Hiccup. He lay behind her, propped up on one arm and the other loosely around her waist. He was watching her now, eyes soft with fatigue.

“Hey, there. Had a good nap?”

She nodded, humming. “Looks like I needed that.”

He accepted her words without comment. In fact, he didn’t react at all and simply watched her, his gaze so intense as if he was looking deep inside her, not just at her eyes but at her soul as well. It made her feel warm, cradled, cherished, as if there was nothing in the entire world that mattered except being here at this moment, together. She acted without thinking, turned her head and stretched a little, breached the small distance between them until their lips met.

It was a slow kiss. Just lips moving together, melting, searching. It was simple but so good, sensual and meaningful. When she reached for him to pull him closer, the stubble on his jaw were rough against her palm, making her shiver. He wa so… so real. Everything about him, his warmth seeping into her body, his hand on her waist drawing her toward him, his breath ghosting across her skin, it was so intense. Irresistible. She wanted for this moment to never end, to keep kissing Hiccup and feeling him so close for the rest of eternity.

And for a while, her wish was granted. Time lost all meaning as they kissed, their bodies moving as one. Shifting, turning, grinding; even sleepy as they were, they always knew what the other wanted and followed their motions. Hiccup's fingers combed through her long golden tresses, his fingernails dragging across her scalp and making her tremble. Her own hands wandered over his back beneath his shirt, exploring his shoulders, the scars from his accident, and every single ridge of his spine down to his rear.

She loved how he ground against her, the motions so strong and natural and reaching so deep despite the clothes that still separated them. It was wonderful, knowing bodies nearly working on their own to bring each other to completion.

Her orgasm was building slowly, and when she came, it surprised even herself. Her muscles seizing deep inside her belly made her spasm beneath him. She mewled, and her fingers dug deep into his flesh as her grip on his backside grew firmer, holding him close. Her still sleepy mind went blissfully empty as pleasure surged through her in one powerful wave, and she barely registered how Hiccup’s arms shook at her side or how he muffled his groan against her neck.

When he rolled off her to lie next to her again, Astrid shifted too until she faced him. “Mmm, I liked that,” she murmured, then chuckled. “But so much for a day without sex.”

Hiccup snorted. He sounded as tired as she felt, his eyes closed and a lazy smile on his face. “Is that a complaint I’m hearing there? About too much sex? From you?”

Now, she laughed for real, low but true. “No, definitely no complaints here.” She burrowed against his chest and deeply inhaled his scent, leather, fire, and sandalwood. Home.

“Aye. I didn’t think so.”

His arms closed around her, holding her, and they both basked in this moment of sleepy closeness, vulnerable but safe. Astrid was close to drifting off into sleep again when Hiccup stirred once more.

“Mh? What’s up, babe?” she asked sleepily.

“I need the bathroom.”

“Again?” She lifted her head, again reflexively looking for his walking aids.

He chuckled. “Yeah, well… I made a bit of a mess of my boxers, and I need to clean that up before I fall asleep.”

Astrid blinked, then giggled. “Ah, right.” She sat up and rubbed at her eyes. “Do you need my help?”

He paused, considering her offer, but then shook his head. “No, I’m good. But we should move over to the bed, it’s more comfortable than spending the entire night here on the couch.”

Grudgingly, she had to admit that Hiccup was right. She waited until she heard him leave the bathroom, then went there herself to use the loo and brush her teeth. After retrieving Hiccup’s prosthetic from the living room for the next morning, she happily crawled into bed next to him. And as she was about to fall asleep for real, she thought that maybe today’s gift from their advent calendar hadn’t been that much of a failure after all. If nothing else, it at least had served as a reminder that they didn’t need extravagant toys or accessories to be happy.

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

#Hiccstrid #fanfiction #httyd #Modern AU #Sex Toy Advent Calendar #not for children #nsft #romance #fluff

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painting-wings · 4 years ago

Text

SCANDAL | 4 |

Words ~ 1k

Masterlist

Chapters ~ Three | Five

A/N : Chapter 4 is here! Hope you guys like the story so far and things are starting to heat up... 👀 If you are enjoying this story please give it a like :)

*All characters / events in this story are completely fictional*

It had been a week since you told Taehyung about the picture and he still talks about it to you, teasing saying that you will be in trouble. What really sparked your anxiety was when you sat in one of the practice rooms with them and Cho-hee came up to you.

“I know your secret” she whispered, your heart stopped, looking at her wide eyed, “what do you mean? I don’t have secrets” laughing nervously. She playfully hit your arm,

“Oh come on you know, your instagram”

At that moment all the colour drained from your face, the secret fan account you were done for, before you could explain yourself, Cho-hee showed you, your personal instagram that was on private. Relief washed over you “I have been wanting to follow you for a while now but I couldn’t find your insta”

“Oh yea...I didn’t think that anyone would want it so I never gave it out” you said unlocking your phone to accept her request. Looking at how many followers she has you was amazed, “you have a lot of followers”

“Yea, a lot of people mainly ask for pictures of the boys...I have done other groups as well but for now I’m here for the upcoming tour, hey! Let’s take a selfie together and post it” Cho-hee held up the camera, quickly sorted out your hair and held up a peace sign while pursing your lips together to blow a kiss.

“That was cute!” Cho-hee squealed, she posted the picture and within a few minutes your phone was blowing up of likes, comments and follow requests, turning the phone on silent, you didn’t see Taehyung hovering over your shoulder.

“y/n..your popular”

“Tae! Oh no I took a photo with-”

“Hmm I know, I saw also next time don’t take a picture in front of the mirrors”

Confused at what he said looking back onto the picture you could see the boys in the back practicing...that's why your phone was blowing up. Curious you decided to read the comments on the picture.

‘OMG! CAN ANYONE SEE THEM IN THE BACK’

‘Who is the other girl?’

‘JIMIN! YOU LOOK SO HOT 😍 ‘

‘The BTS crew feeding us TODAY THANK YOUUUU’

‘I wish I had their job…’

‘Jungkookie looks so hot’

‘ ARE THEY SHIRTLESS?!!!! 😱 ‘

‘WE NEED MORE PICTURES’

‘Post more please’

‘Ew I wanna see BTS more than these two get out of the picture’

The last comment hurt a little bit, but you knew with working with this job people are going to be jealous of you. Now you understood Tae’s words and he was right next time think about where the picture is being taken.

“Hey y/n” looking up you saw Namjoon waving you over, walking over to the boys, “did you want to come to dinner with us?”

Your brain stopped working for a second as you had to process that information...did Namjoon, THE Namjoon ask you to dinner with the rest of BTS.

***

It was weird sitting in a restaurant with BTS, everyone chatted quietly, sat next to Namjoon on one side and the other was Jin, in front of you was Jimin while Jungkook was next to Namjoon and Tae, Hoseok was either side of Jimin.

As you took a sip of your water, Namjoon was asking you about your home country and why did you want to come and work in Korea.

“Well I have always loved music and I have always been interested in other cultures' music, I fell in love with Korean pop because it spoke to me in a way other music didn’t” Namjoon was looking at you with so much interest, it felt like a dream. If you were brave enough you would’ve leaned in and kissed him right there but...you weren't.

“Also Korea is such a beautiful country” you added as Namjoon smiled at you,

“Yea it is, I do love my country, I really want to go to your country y/n”

“Really why?”

“Because I want to see what your music is like”

You laughed as he looked at you with confusion “no my countries music is so cheesy..with wannabe boy bands and girl groups also the solo artists don’t really care about their fans only the money”

Namjoon laughed too “okay...I guess I believe you but please show me some music sometime and I can judge it” you nod in agreement as the food arrives.

Steaming hot bowls of noodles, variety of meats, vegetables and the strange combination that Jungkook was eating that you didn’t want to know. You weren't very skilled with the chopsticks as you kept dropping your food, making the boys giggle at you, in the end you stabbed the piece of food with one of the sticks.

“Hey y/n like this” Hoseok said as he slowly showed you how to hold them, still looking confused Jin leaned over and held your hand, showing you were to place your fingers, that night you laughed so much, it had felt like you’d had been friends with them all your life.

***

AhnJong called you to her office, panic set in as you thought you did something bad, break into a nervous sweat as you stood at her door. Knocking hesitantly walking into the cold room, she sat elegantly at her desk but has a serious face, “Y/n come and take a seat” walking to the chair you sat down waiting to hear the worse “bts are going on tour in a months time and I need to know are all your travel documents up to date?”

‘Yes they should be”

“Good, now there are rules about tour” You mentally groaned, more rules? How many can there be?

“When on tour you have to stick to a strict schedule, no talking to anyone who isn’t a part of the crew, stadium staff. Avoid any fans, press also no leaving your room after the curfew time” you take in all this information mentally hoping that you remember.

“Yes I fully understand” you reply as you are allowed to leave, standing outside the door you sigh a relief, now going back down to the practice rooms.

On your way down you walk into Jimin, “Hi Jimin” you smile as he gives you a wave, “Y/n are you excited about the tour starting soon?”

“Of course and you must be excited right?” you ask as Jimin gives you a small laugh, “Tour is exciting and tiring. Are you heading back?”

“Yea I am”

Both of you just walk back to the practice rooms, part of your brain is mentally screaming at Park Jimin walking with you, you keep your cool as you don’t want to keep looking at him as you steal side glances at him, but that doesn’t go unnoticed, Jimin lets out a small giggle, making your cheeks flush which causes you to freak out more. “Y/n your so cute”

“Huh? What”

“aha..I said you're cute, so Y/n who is your bias?”

“Sorry?” you as in shock did Jimin really ask you this question,

“Who is your bias” his smirk grew on his face as your blush darkened,

“Erm.. I like you all equally” by this point Jimin groaned,

“Y/n come on I won’t tell the others” it was almost like he was flirting with you, in your head you knew this can’t be real and it’s some dream and you will wake up any second. Shaking your head you quickly walked away from Jimin.

***

TODAY IS TOUR DAY

It is currently 2am and you're standing outside of a plane, waiting to board. You soon learn that crew members and the group travel separately, still half asleep and not sure where you should be Cho-hee is full of energy and bouncing around you, “I’m so excited! Y/n are you excited too?”

“Yes Cho-hee I am I really need to sleep”

“Sleep is for losers” she said running off to go talk to another member of the crew, checking your phone, you see a message from Taehyung.

‘y/n why don’t you come fly with us?’

‘Tae I’m not allowed, airport paparazzi will get suspicious’

‘ :( ‘

‘Don’t worry I’m staying in the same hotel’

You finally got to board the plane and now you was chilling in your seat, looking out of the window you felt content with yourself and also super excited to be on tour, you inner fangirl was losing her mind, taking a quick picture you posted it to your snapchat as well as secret insta.

Strangely you felt like you were living a double life with the fan instagram account, which you pray that it never gets leaked that's why you log out of the account whenever you're around the crew or the rest of the boys.

After a few hours you finally landed in C/n, taking your thing you and the crew walked through the airport getting closer to the doors you felt overwhelmed by the amount of people, camera and fans standing waiting for a glance of their idol, before you got off the plane you was instructed by the other crew members to wear a mask, a hat and keep your head down.

When the doors opened it was like you were in a lightning storm the amount of lights going off at once, the fans asking about the boys, one name caught your attention, you looked out to the crowd quickly as you thought you heard your name being called but it was probably nothing.

Flopping down onto the soft hotel bed you felt glad to finally be in a safe space, laying there on the bed in the silence just gathering your thoughts. That was short lived when your phone went off reading the message form Hoseok, ‘Y/n what room are you in? We are going for food, did you want to come? :D ‘ reading Hoseok’s message was like hearing him speak it radiate positivity.

‘I’m in room 1343’

‘Okay I will be up soon!’

Smiling to yourself you decided to check your instagram, going through the feed there were the typical images that were on instagram, and you noticed that your image had gotten the normal attention, you started to read the comments.

‘Beautiful picture’

‘Are you excited for the comebacks this year?’

‘Living your best life xx’

‘Are you in C/n?’

‘Was you at the same airport as BTS?’

‘Are you a part of the BTS crew?’

The last two comments worried you as you never showed your face on this instagram or what you looked like in general but you decided to answer the comments and leave it how it was, that until one comment sent you through the roof.

‘Are you a sasaeng?’

#bts fanfic #bts x y/n #bts x female reader #bts x army #kpop idol x reader #bts writing #bts au #y/n fanfic

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drarryruinedme7 · 5 years ago

Note

Hate

I’ve had this word sitting in my ask box for forever.. time to revisit it for this little ficlet I wrote! Tagging @rockmarina, @rose-grangerweasleyisbae and @ununquadius ❤️To everyone who can’t enjoy their birthday: know you’re loved and I believe in you!❤️

Drarry | 1,7K | Rating: M | Tags: EWE, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Mention of Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Abusive Dursley Family, Neville Longbottom is a Good Friend, Mention of Hermione and Ron sleeping with Harry when he’s feeling bad, Dating, Amusement Park | Beta: @malenkayacherepakha and @bblgumbby

Harry Potter Hates His Birthday

Harry Potter hated his birthday.

If it had been his choice, he’d erase the 31st of July from the calendar.

But unluckily, as much as he wished with every cell of his body for it to disappear, every year it showed up, right on time.

He would start feeling sick on the 30th, the day before. He’d wake up, take a look at the calendar and his breath would hitch, his heart beating furiously.

The first time it happened he was six years old.

Harry had thought he was gonna die. His heart was beating so fast it was painful and he was sure his time had come. But the thought hadn’t been disturbing — it almost felt freeing, a relief.

At least, he wouldn’t have had to live his birthday once again.

But after a good hour spent panicking, his stomach churning, making him nauseous and dizzy, he realised he was still alive.

So he got up and went on with his usual life, with no one taking as much as a look at him or wishing him a happy birthday.

Harry knew nothing about anxiety, panic attacks, abusive family. He only knew he felt sick to his bones, alone, and another year older.

He’d spend the day cooking, cleaning, and then closed in his cupboard playing with his toy soldiers.

He had asked once his Aunt Petunia if he could have new ones for his birthday, for his old ones were all ruined and broken by Dudley.

Petunia had looked at him with a raised eyebrow, shaking her head.

“Next time you’ll learn to treat the toys that your uncle Vernon bought you with his own money better.”

It wasn’t true. They were Dudley’s, but when he’d grown sick of them they’d given them to Harry.

Harry didn’t own anything — all he had, it had previously been Dudley’s.

That’s how growing up, he realised he had no idea what his tastes were.

Did he like shirts or t-shirts more? Red or blue? Toy soldiers or toy cars? Nothing.

So, at the age of 10, Harry decided he hated his birthday and he’d never ask his aunt and uncle for anything else.

He decided he wasn’t worth anything good in the world, it wasn’t worth celebrating his birth, he wasn’t worth pretty much anything.

He started living as a ghost, ignoring people’s disgusted faces at his over used clothes, Dudley’s taunts, his own feelings.

By now, he had figured something out. He knew there were things he liked and things he disliked, but he didn’t think anything of that. It wouldn’t bring anything good anyway.

As always, the day of his 10th birthday, Harry spent the day thinking his heart would jump out of his throat, his lungs threatening to collapse at any moment and with an inexplicable need to cry and cry and cry until he forgot his own name.

Things changed the day of his 11th birthday.

The 31st of July, 1991 had been different.

He was curled up on the floor of the crazy refuge where uncle Vernon had brought them to escape the owls, his eyes stinging.

For a second, for a second he had thought someone, anyone, had remembered his birthday and sent him something.

It had been a foolish desire, he knew it, but in the end, he couldn’t stop the tears that started rolling down his cheeks, mixing with the dust of the floor, staining Harry’s face.

A loud thump and a gigantic man entered the refuge, bellowing something about a school where Harry needed to go because he was a wizard.

Several clocks clicked in his head, now everything made sense. He wasn’t weird, sick, or a freak, he was a wizard!

And this man, Hagrid, had come to bring him to this new school where he’d learn magic — Hogwarts — away from the Dursleys.

Away from the Dursleys!

That one, that one had been a memorable birthday.

But unfortunately, as much as Harry didn’t know anything about panic attacks and abusive family, he didn’t know a thing about ptsd and effects of trauma either.

His life had improved greatly, even with Voldemort at his heels. Honestly, anything was better than the Dursleys.

He even had new friends, and two best friends, Ron and Hermione. Life couldn’t be better than this.

Still, the day of his birthday, Harry woke up again with dread in every cell of his body, tears in his eyes, heart aching.

His friends hadn’t sent him letters, but it hadn’t been a shock. No one ever remembered his birthday.

He was still happy he had them and he’d get to meet them again in September, and he couldn’t wait to go back to Hogwarts.

So why was he still feeling like the day of his birth was a cursed day?

Harry never found an answer.

Every year, on time, his birthday would arrive and pass with wetness on his face, a sour taste in his mouth and a burning worse than fire in his chest.

He’d read his friends’ letters, eat the candies they’d sent him, flip through the photo album Hagrid gifted him and still.

Still think he didn’t deserve any of that, thinking his life wasn’t worth celebrating.

—–

The 31st of July, 1998 had been the worst of all of Harry’s birthdays.

A War had just ended, too many people had died, too many things were wrong to be happy, to even try and think his life could be different now or that he was worth living now.

Everyone had sent him something to celebrate, even strangers who only wanted to thank him for winning the War, for what he had done.

But what he had done exactly? Killed a man, let others die, died himself.

He burnt all the letters, threw away all the gifts, closed himself in Grimmauld Place, blocking everyone else out.

He’d finally cried until his throat had burnt, his head was throbbing and with the absolute certainty he wasn’t ever, ever, ever going to celebrate his birthday again in his life.

Then, luckily enough, in 1999, the day of his birthday became a wizarding National Holiday.

Not only did he have to celebrate it, but he even had to endure silly social parties, with thousands of people he had never met.

So now he had gone from ‘no one remembers my birthday’ to ‘everyone celebrates my birthday because I was brave enough to kill a man’.

What a reason to be remembered for.

At least now Harry knew.

Now Harry had started seeing a therapist, Rebecca, who explained to him a lot about triggers, trauma brain, panic attacks, anxiety.

He had now acquired new tools to keep them at bay, to endure the day and arrive at the end of it without drowning in self-hate.

Except for arriving at home every time with tears in his eyes, Hermione and Ron in the bed with him, holding him, silently telling him he was worth living and he was loved.

Five years after the War, it was the 31st of July, 2003. Harry was at a coffee shop with Neville, heartily laughing at one of his thousands of stories about his beloved plants.

Sometimes after the War, Harry had realised he shared his birthday with one of his dearest friends and from that day on, they would always spend the day together.

They’d joke during those stupid silly social parties, Neville would always say he ‘had risked being The Boy Who Lived by a whisker’, but ‘got away with it pretty well’, and that he ‘was celebrated in all of the Wizarding World but with the privilege of no gossiping and prints around’.

It had started to make Harry happier and more carefree. At last, he had a reason to be happy on the 31st of July. His best bud Neville was born!

And so here they were, drinking coffee and laughing together, when none other than Draco Malfoy entered the coffee shop, glowing blond hair and slender legs in tow.

Harry’s coffee stuck in his throat, making him cough, drawing Malfoy’s attention who turned his head and raised his eyebrows to the sky when he saw Harry.

He froze, looking from Neville to Harry several times before making a step and approaching them.

“Hello.”

Fuck, that voice. Harry thought he wouldn’t have never heard it again.

“Happy Birthday to both of you.” Malfoy’s hand stretched in front of them. Neville grasped it, thanked him.

Harry looked horrified when a thought formed in his mind. The War was over, the man standing in front of him right now had surely changed during the years, and he had remembered his birthday, of course.

It wouldn’t hurt to accept his hand, so he did. He grasped Malfoy’s hand, smiling and receiving a smile back from him too.

Malfoy had smiled, for real, to Harry. And Harry had had something like 2 seconds to realise Draco Malfoy was absolutely, undeniably, utterly, handsome.

And then he recalled every time during school, Malfoy had always remembered Harry’s birthday. To taunt him, of course, but he never had taunted anyone else on their birthday, right? It had all been for Harry.

It was such a stupid thought that Harry started laughing uncontrollably, because seriously if he was happy that someone had always remembered his birthday and not because of who he was, but to mock him, there was something wrong with him.

And Malfoy had tightened his grip on Harry’s hand and had looked worried at Neville, who shook his head amazed.

“Erm, are you okay, Potter?” Malfoy’s voice sounded amused and Harry found himself nodding, and a second after saying, “Great! What do you think of having dinner with me?”

Neville’s eyes widened so much Harry feared they’d fall down that instant, as Malfoy had laughed incredulously.

“Sure, Potter.”

But Harry wasn’t kidding. At 7 pm he was in front of Malfoy’s office — he worked as Unspeakable with Hermione, a couple of calls and Harry had been able to track him down.

They went out to dinner, had fun, went to the amusement park after, did some rides, bought cotton candy and a goldfish, named it Umbridge.

They went back together to Grimmauld Place, placed Umbridge in a fishbowl, fucked all night, laughed at their stupidity, laughed at the ridiculous situation.

Harry didn’t know how, but from that day on Draco Malfoy had never walked out of his house and life, and his birthday had stopped being so horrible.

#drarry #drarry squad #drarry fanfiction #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x harry #harry's birthday #tw: panic attacks #tw: anxiety #neville longbottom #is a good friend #mywriting

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hobrerek · 6 years ago

Text

Realizations: Writing Prompt

“Brotherly love between Derek and Scott!! Always upset me we never got to see more of them... 😫” - @veseyz

Here you go my dear, Derek and Scott brotherly love as requested! This story took a bit of a turn from where I had originally started with it, but hopefully you enjoy all 2.4K of it all the same. Let me know what you think!

Much love, Jessa

Realizations

Scott was sure in this moment, that if it came down to it, he may actually murder Stiles in cold blood if he didn't stop talking.

"Can werewolves menstruate?" Stiles was asking as he angled his body back towards the screen, typing in almost the exact phrase. "I mean, obviously there's not going to be an exact hit or anything like that, duh, but maybe we can learn something from a history book or like...a fanfiction or something that gives us an idea, you know? Scott? Buddy?"

"I swear to God," Scott muttered under his breath as he walked down the street, ignoring Stiles' shouts from the window behind him when he clued in that his best friend had slipped out, gliding down the street quietly as he cracked his neck in irritation.

Scott was...itchy. Not physically, not as in something he could scratch, but his insides felt itchy, like his body couldn't decide if it was supposed to be human or werewolf and kept slipping back and forth between the two causing an incessant 'feeling,' like a source of friction that was driving Scott absolutely mad. Originally Scott had gone to Stiles to see if he had ever read anything about this sort of issue in werewolves, but when his best friend diverted into theories about werewolf mating rituals, Scott had decided he should probably find his answers elsewhere.

Without realizing or really intending for it, Scott found himself in front of a familiar beaten-up door, raising his hand with a sigh before letting his knuckles rap across the wooden surface, hearing no motion inside indicating someone was home, though he could also tell that Derek was standing directly on the other side of the door and was pretending to not be doing so.

"I feel like you are forgetting something," Scott said with a huff into the cold air, watching the condensed air that slipped from his lips drift away into little wisps, still sensing no movement from within. "As in the 'I am also a werewolf and know you are on the other side of the door' kind of something, Derek. It's weird, stop lurking."

"I wasn't lurking," Derek said with a grimace as he pulled the door open to reveal himself standing in dark jeans and a well worn henley. "I was waiting."

"Behind the door? While you held your breath?" Scott asked incredulously, raising a brow in judgement as he stepped into Derek's home. "You have a functioning door now. That's new."

"Mmm," Derek grunted in acknowledgement, walking back into the house and through the long hallway with the multiple offshoots, entering into the kitchen with Scott close behind him, the latter having followed the smells emanating from the large pot on the stove.

"You can cook?" Scott spoke in surprise, phrasing his words as both a statement and a question simultaneously. "I assumed you lived on rabbits."

"Why on Earth would I eat rabbits, Scott?" Derek asked in annoyance, visibly scowling and drawing attention to his own bunny teeth which Scott could just 'hear' Stiles making fun of in his head. "Oh shut up, not you too."

"You have to admit," Scott said with a laugh as he made himself at home at Derek's dinner table (also new) and eyed the delicious smelling pot on the stove, "that for a werewolf, your teeth are decidedly bunny like."

Casting him a sharp look that Scott was accustomed to and ignoring the younger man's comment, Derek reached up into his cupboard (new shelves I see, thought Scott) and pulled out two bowls, keeping the most recent one in his hand as he pulled off the top of the pot and ladled a few scoops of the stew into a bowl, before repeating the motions with the other one as Scott watched on intently.

"Dude, that smells fucking delicious," Scott said excitedly as he salivated, missing the look from Derek as he shook his head at the younger man.

"Dude," Derek retorted, grabbing his own bowl and sinking down before tilting his head with a frown when he realized he had forgotten the bread on the counter for dunking.

"Bread," Derek motioned, tilting his head back towards the offending item across the kitchen and staring Scott down until he relented, standing from his seat to bring it over, though he stopped to grab the butter on the way.

"Is there a reason you are in my house eating my food?" Derek asked after some time had passed and both men were well on their way to finishing their second bowl of stew.

"How do you know I didn't just come for a visit?" Scott rebutted, though he at least had the foresight to look down into his bowl instead of making eye contact, knowing full well what Derek was about to say.

"Hm, not sure," Derek hummed, tone dripping in sarcasm. "Maybe all the times you told me you hated me, preferred if I didn't exist or asked me to leave. And to think, somehow you managed to get that all into one sentence last time you said it."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Scott replied, clenching his eyes shut as his mouth formed into a straight line. "I was in a weird place last time."

"And the times before that?"

"I'm pretty sure that was just me being an asshole."

Derek didn't respond to Scott's latest statement, Scott more than aware that meant that the older man was agreeing without having to directly vocalize his thoughts, though frankly he had to admit that he had been pretty harsh on Derek last time, especially since he had actually been the one to save the day in place of Scott.

"You are decidedly less hostile lately," Derek tacked on after a few more moments of silence had passed, though the quiet wasn't uncomfortable. A moment later, as Scott finished his own bowl, he realized that Derek had left the question hanging in the air for him to grab onto.

"I may or may not have had some sense knocked into me recently?" Scott stated slowly, choosing his words carefully, brows furrowing as he recalled the conversation in question. "There was some other stuff mentioned too, but it got weird at that point so I tuned it out."

"What kind of weird? Stiles I am presuming?"

"Of course," Scott replied with a roll of his eyes, much to the amusement of Derek who barely kept a grin from spreading across his features. The general annoyance that was Stiles Stilinski was something everyone could agree on, regardless of their differences.

"What did he say?" Derek pushed, his gaze focusing and for the first time in as long as Scott had known him, he could see right through the older man.

"Oh ew," Scott said with genuine disgust, as Derek looked around trying to gauge what Scott's words had been in reaction to, coming up blank, eyebrow raised in a silent question. "You like him."

"Like who?" Derek questioned, though Scott could see his cheeks colouring and could smell the change in the older werewolf's hormones which only caused his disgust to deepen.

"Ew, you like Stiles," Scott said with a grimace, nose scrunched up as he suddenly got a very detailed mental image of Stiles and Derek kissing. "Jesus, please don't tell me you plan on waxing poetic about him too, I already get it enough from him."

"I, no, erm, I mean, I wouldn't, because you see, I mean, with you and him, and you know, it's just, the timing and, it's um, wait what?" Derek finally settled on asking, eyes scrunching together in confusion. "Say that again."

"You like him," Scott repeated, smiling to himself at the look of contempt Derek shot his way.

"Not what I meant," Derek grumbled, though he apparently decided not to push Scott further.

"Look," Scott said with another grimace, still trying to scrub out the mental image of Stiles and Derek making out from inside his brain, but knowing he had a real opportunity to do his best friend a solid after all the years of the roles being reversed. "I'm just saying, you should probably talk to Stiles sometime soon, like...just the two of you. If you know what I mean."

"Oh," Derek said simply, eyes blown wide leaving his face looking incredibly vulnerable as he digested Scott's words, clearing his throat awkwardly after a moment and trying to rearrange his facial features. "Good to know."

"Also, please don't make out in front of me," Scott added on after a moment, getting another flash of the pair locked in a heated embrace and willing himself to think of Kira's breasts or the way she had kissed him when he had left the night before or anything that wasn't his best friend and older brother making out.

"Oh, huh," Scott said aloud, tone coloured with surprise. "That's interesting."

"I'm really not following," Derek said with only a hint of exasperation in his tone, feeling like he was pulling teeth as he 'patiently' waited for Scott to tell him what the hell was going on in his head.

"Sorry," Scott started, still mulling something over in his head. "Stiles was just saying to me the other day that I needed to be nicer to you because you were all I had of my kind and I thought that was dumb since I knew he just wanted to make out with you and have me be okay with it."

Looking up, Scott rolled his eyes once more when he noted the pleased expression that had crossed Derek's face before he continued.

"And I was just thinking how fucking weird it is to think of you and Stiles kissing. Not like, cause you're gay or anything."

"Bisexual," Derek interrupted, waving Scott's protests away and motioning for him to continue, cheeks having gone a darker colour when he realized his words.

"But like, that's my best friend. And you're my like, Derek."

"I'm your like Derek?" the older man replied sarcastically, hands spread as he waited for Scott to explain. "Meaning?"

"I d-don't know," Scott stammered, still trying to make sense of his thoughts. "It's just like, you're not so bad anymore you know? And you help a lot with the pack and answering questions and things. And you don't try and boss me around as much anymore and you're good in fights which is handy, especially the other night."

Both men stopped briefly as they considered the wounded werewolf they had encountered on the outskirts of their territory a few nights previous, the feral nature of the wound having taken over not long after they had found the young woman.

"And like," Scott continued, shaking off the images from that night and plowing forward. "You put up with Stiles. And that's not easy. And you're friends with the Sheriff and he's like my dad so I love him, but that's also not easy. And you get all weird around Stiles and say embarrassing stuff and I've literally just realized you like him and oh my god, would you stop making out with him in my head?!"

"I-" Derek started to speak, mouth closing with an audible click as he stared on at Scott as if he had two heads growing from his neck. "Are you okay?"

"Dude, you're like a big brother figure in my life," Scott said in shock, finally coming to a conclusion in his head as Derek looked on with wide eyes and a thoughtful expression. "Dude, when the fuck did that happen?"

"I-"

"I need to go tell Stiles!" Scott cut off, standing abruptly and turning towards the door, stopping after a few steps to look back at Derek and humming aloud to himself. "You're okay with that, right?"

"Erm, sure?" Derek replied, his voice suggesting otherwise, though it was apparently enough for Scott who nodded happily to himself and continued down the hall, Derek leaning back in his chair so he could watch as the younger man got further and further away.

"Thanks Derek!" Scott shouted as he opened the door, pushing his feet into his shoes and twisting until they slipped in. "This helped a lot!"

"I-" Derek started yet again, looking back at the two empty bowls and crumbs strewn across the table as the door closed behind the younger man. "What the fuck just happened?"

"Stiles!" Scott shouted as he climbed through his best friends window some 25 minutes later. "I figured out what was wrong!"

"Hello to you too, Scott. Thank you for knocking and not just sliding through my window and scaring the living shit out of me," Stiles responded with a hand clutched over his heart from the floor as he flailed dramatically out of his bed. "Nice of you to return."

"Yeah, yeah," Scott waved off absentmindedly, going to sit at the head of Stiles' bed. "So I went to talk to Derek."

"Willingly?" Stiles asked, face frowning as he looked on at Scott questioningly. "Literally like ten minutes before you left you were going on about how annoying he was."

"Yes, but I realized that wasn't the problem!" Scott replied happily, missing the 'what the fuck' expression that Stiles was continuously shooting his way. "I was feeling all weird BECAUSE of Derek, but not BY Derek, you see?"

"Nope," Stiles said with a little head shake and with pursed lips. "I really don't see Scott, since that wasn't even English and you usually hate Derek."

"But that's the thing!" Scott exclaimed, turning to look at Stiles directly. "I don't hate him, I just realized that I'm not actually competing with him anymore because he's like an older brother right? Like, we are going to fight and stuff and he's annoying, but like, he's still family, you know?"

"That's awfully big of you," Stiles said cautiously after a long moment, eyes widening in a calculated manner as he stared curiously at his best friend. "Any particular reason why all of a sudden you don't hate the big mean bad wolf you always complain about?"

"I told him you liked him and he started blushing and then I realized that he'll probably be around a lot more if you two start dating and then I realized that he's actually not so bad when I was trying to avoid thinking of the two of you kissing and now that I realized that I thought I should come and tell you that he's not so bad," Scott replied simply, totally oblivious to the flailing and increasingly concerning colour of purple that Stiles was turning beside him on the bed. "Cool, huh?"

"YOU TOLD HIM WHAT?!"

#Scott McCall #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Sterek #Brother Relationship #Realizations #Teen Wolf #Scott McCall being...Scott McCall #Writing Prompt #Teen Wolf Prompt #Teen Wolf Imagine #Send me more prompts #See original post #Multi-Fandom Writing #Enjoying Writing Again

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brujeria-histeria · 6 years ago

Text

Deadly Dreams

a Hacy fic, warning this is a bit long.

Harry tiredly shuffled to his bed in his condo, he was extremely exhausted from today’s demon hunting and his powers were seriously depleted due to the elaborate plan Mel came up with to defeat a siphoning demon who smoked away. He also needed to regain focus before he did something embarrassing like orb 1000s of miles away again, he was barely retaining a grip on his orbing.

Ironically the cause of him being unfocused is one of the people he was supposed to be focused on. Macy Vaughn, his charge. It had been 7 months exactly since they removed the source from her body. She still had demon in her, but it seemed to have not made her act erratic as much as it did. Harry suspected since her powers had become unbound her pent up demonic side became unbound too and unlike dear Maggie’s former beau, Parker, she didn’t have years to control it enough so that she did have her evil attitude moments, which Harry would never admit he found it, in the kids terms these days, super hot.

Harry really hated the fact that once again his romantic soul found another object of affection to pine after. He really hated that it was his own charge, which is worse than before when it was just his charge’s older sister.

Harry forced himself to get out of bed and take a hot relaxing shower to get his mind off things. The hot steaming water hit his muscles and he sighed in content, he was fine until about 10 minutes into his shower a curly haired beauty popped into his imagination. Harry snapped his eyes open as he felt warm, not from the water and tried to focus on other things. Yuck like the Harbinger’s gross face or that film douchebag’s extra dudebro speech. Hm, he really needed to stop picking up the girl’s Lingo.

He finished up his shower and went to his kitchen to have a relaxing cup of tea before bed, he received a special breakfast request and goodnight text from Maggie in the group chat she made for them the “Vera-Vaughn-Vera Sisters+Brother” chat. The other sisters responded to Maggie and Mel told him to make sure he rested up and don’t mind Maggie, who responded with puppy dog eyes emoji. Harry texted back he’s up no matter what and he’d be happy to make something new for Maggie. Harry trotted of to bed and fell asleep.

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“Earth to Harry! Hello, you in there?” Mel was waving her hand in front of his face when he snapped his eyes open. He didn’t remember getting out of bed.

“I, uh, I’m sorry.” he stuttered.

“What are you sorry for? You were standing there with your eyes closed for like a minute and didn’t respond. I thought you kicked the bucket.. again. Macy would have a fit if you did.” Mel said helping herself to coffee.

“Macy? ah uh, no. um. Sorry It was a whitelighter thing, I felt one... die.” He lied.

“Aw Harry I’m sorry, I forgot you guys can feel that stuff.”

“Yes, well it happens.” Harry was very confused at the moment, and trying to act normal. Mel said her goodbye grabbing her breakfast sandwich, which he must have made, on the way out. 30 seconds later Maggie skipped down into breakfast. “Harry, aw you made those breaded eggplant breakfast sandwiches I asked for, aw you’re the best big brother ever.”

Now Harry knows they have fatherish brother and sister bond going but he only remembers her calling him her honorary sister once and brother on the group chat title. Before he could ask, in walked in Macy.

“Hurry up and eat your breakfast Maggie, I don’t want to be late dropping you off.” Macy said walking towards Harry. Maggie said a muffled ok through her munching.

“Hey you, Macy.” Said getting closer to Harry.

“Macy, hi-”

She kissed him, it was a peck on the lips. Harry stared, while she smiled at him and then he pulled her back to him and kissed her longer and with more passion.

“EW! In front of my sandwich?!! Get a room!” Maggie shrieked. Harry broke off his kiss from the eldest sister. He expected Maggie to say “when did you two get together?” or “harry stop perving on my sister” or something, but instead through Maggie’s facial expression of disgust she seemed familiar with it.

Macy on the other hand, laughed. “Jeez Harry, our weekly date night isn’t until 8 hours from now.” Harry stared at her, and smiled. “Um, I just missed you.”

“Ok.” she said grinning at him, he was being so weird. “Come on Mags. lets go.” Maggie was still protesting how gross their frenching was when the girls left. Harry needed to check his phone. The date and year looked correct, he looked the same. Then why was Macy suddenly his girlfriend? Harry felt giddy and confused now. And a date later, oh brother.

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Harry was on autopilot the whole day, everything was the same except apparently he and Macy were a couple and he was guessing by his shared calendar they have been dating for 3 and 1/2 months. He needed to figure out though what this date tonight was going to be. He decided to track down Maggie, as she would know everything about it because her and Macy talked relationships almost every day.

“Maggie?” he said as he orbed into her study corner in the library. “Harry!” she whisper yelled. “Oh you scared me? What’s up, is there a demon.”

“No, I need some advice. We can’t talk in here. I’ll buy you a salad.” he hurried.

“Cool. Deal.”

After Maggie got her cranberry walnut feta salad and dug in, Harry decided it was time to play 21 questions, without raising suspicion.

“So what’s up Harry?”

“I, erm, need advice for my date tonight with Macy.” he started with.

“Hm, you don’t really ask me for advice with Macy a lot.”

“Well don’t tell your sister but I’ve been so busy I am blanking on tonight’s date details.”

“Ah yeah, your classes and all.” she tapped her salad bowl while thinking.

“Well Macy said it’s at Algino’s Fine Italian Dining, so make sure you get a table in the back near the fireplace. My friend works there as a hostess, just call and let her know an hour before you get there that Maggie is sending you. Hm, I sound so cool, I have connections.” she mused.

Harry grinned a little, that was easy, he knows when and where, he just doesn’t know what he’s going to talk about, surely if they’ve been dating for 3 1/2 months they know each other pretty well past “what’s your favorite color” questions.

“Hm, is there anything new going on with Macy that she may have told you that I don’t know?” Maggie gave him a quizzical look. “I, erm, mean just because I don’t want the date to be boring, I want to talk to her about something new, maybe something she thought I wouldn’t think about.”

“Uhh, well, there is the fact that she was asked about assisting the forensics force for the police, but she doesn’t know because while she liked Niko she’s not really fond of the police, you know because of police brutality.”

“Understandable.” he nodded.

“Maybe you could give her advice and comfort her about it? I’m pretty sure said she’d bring up to you tonight. Oh shoot.... I probably shouldn’t have told you that.” she slumped.

“No no, it’s fine dear Maggie.” Harry needed something current to know to looked like he knew what was going on.

“Oh and make sure you compliment her tons she mentioned you guys were going to the next step tonight, which is gross to think about but she needs extra reassurance since, you know her first kind broke up with her then died on her soon afterwards.” Maggie mumbled the last bit.

Harry stared wide eyed, if “The next step” meant what he thought it meant.. he was in a lot of trouble. He couldn’t have “next step” comfortably when he doesn’t even know what’s going on.

“Oh my....” he was starting to sweat.

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“Are guys sure this dress is ok?”

“You look AMAZING, Macy, ok? Harry will have to restrain himself from worshipping at your feet tonight.” Maggie squealed.

Mel rolled her eyes. “You look really gorgeous Macy. Harry is very lucky, mostly because I decided to let him date my sister without interrogating him every date night.”

“Thanks Mel, thanks Maggie.” Macy smoothed out her dress nervously again. It was a maroon color bodycon, with a deep v cut neckline, that showed off cleavage and hugged her “bootylicious butt”, as maggie described, and it ended above her knees with a slit on one side. She wore heels to match it and had her hair set in a more wavy curl pattern with her makeup to match too.

She was nervous, tonight she would try to sleep with Harry for the first time, she hadn’t slept with anyone since, well... She wondered if he was nervous too. He admitted after their first date he struggled not to become a clumsy mess.

She smiled at the memory of their first date.

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Harry was nervous, he needed to figure out was was going on, he finished getting ready for his date early just to have time to consult the book of shadows. He had just gotten to the page on siphoning demons and what he thinks might help him when he heard Maggie calling out.

“Harrryyy, your date is coming down to seee youuuu!” He quickly orbed downstairs to await Macy’s descent down the staircase, and gods she was stunning.

If a Siphoning demon was to blame, it was doing a really good job. “Oh my//” he breathed.

“Ready to go?” Macy asked when she made it to the bottom.

“Uh, uh yes, I hope you like dinner tonight.”

“I’m sure I will.”

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So far dinner was fine, for her at least. Harry couldn’t taste anything of his food, he also noticed he didn’t drink or eat all day, in fact he wasn’t even hungry and couldn’t really smell the food at all. He tried to pay attention to Macy though, even if something was wrong he wanted to savor this part at least, he wanted to have this moment. When he figures out what’s going on he doesn’t know if there’s a romantic future for him and Macy.

“So yeah, you know I don’t know on one hand I’d be helping solve crimes and could really help some innocent people stay out of jail, but I don’t want to work with an institution like the american police force, ya know?”

“Yes, Macy love, I completely understand your feelings, I feel the same way and I’ll support you no matter what.”

“Oh Harry!” Macy swooned. “I’m so glad you’re my boyfriend, you never make me feel bad or crazy.”

“Of course, love.” The couple finished up their date and Macy insisted that they talk a walk in the park. He gave her his blazer for the cool night breeze and she held his hand and cuddle up close. She stopped them under a willow tree and turned to face him.

“Harry, I’ve been so happy with you. You take such good care of me and my sisters, you’re such a good role model for Maggie, always there for her when me or Mel can’t be and you even managed to make Mel love you.” she gazed at him.

“I know it sounds corny, but I hope tonight is special for both of us.” Harry was blushing a deep red when Macy closed the gap and kissed him deeply, and that, he could taste and feel. He doesn’t remember how long they stood there kissing, but Macy broke away with bedroom eyes. “Can you orb us to your condo?” he did as she asked and they continued with their heavy make out session. He walked her to the bedroom as they both fumbled with shoes, and clothes.

He was really enjoying every feeling shivering through his body. He hitched her legs and picked her up, holding her up before plopping her on the bed. He followed her down and they were getting so hot, he leaned up to unbutton his shirt and looked down at her and stopped.

“Harry what’s wrong?” Macy asked.

“This isn’t right.” he pulled away.

“What do you mean? I’m not a virgin Harry.”

“No, this is a dream. this is, what’s going on, it’s a dream.”

“Harry I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered.”

“You’re a dream, this is all an induced dream.” He kept talking to himself. “That’s why I didn’t eat, that’s why I couldn’t taste anything at the restaurant, I didn’t have a drop of tea.”

“Harry what the hell are you talking about.” Dream Macy was starting to get aggressive with him and pulled at his body to come back.

“Siphoning Demons don’t eat human food at all, they can recreate everything for a simulation except properly simulate the taste and smell of food, and they forget their target needs to also eat. They forget we have hunger. They give their target their desires and drain the life force from them” He pulled back away. “I’m sorry, I really did enjoy this, but you’re not real.”

“No!” a voice called, he didn’t know if it was from Dream Macy or not, but he needed to wake himself up and recite the only spell he knew he could. “Excitare, attendere, daemonium relinquam meam. Potestatem Ego habeo!”

The world went black and he felt his body regain strength as he stirred awake to a puff of black smoke and a curled up half dead demon on his bed. He jumped away in disgust and shot a light beam at its weakened body as its body turned to ash.

Later in the morning he was at the girl’s home making breakfast as requested by Maggie, happy everything was normal but he felt a bit sad when Macy walked in and didn’t run to him to give him a good morning kiss.

“You ok Har?” Macy stayed behind after breakfast because she noticed her whitelighter kept looking at her with a sad and awkward expression.

“I’m- I’ll be fine. I’m just tired, I had a very odd dream.” he confessed.

“I feel you, I had a dream I went on a date with some mystery guy last night and he vanquished some dream eating demon. Hm maybe dream guy was a witch.” she laughed.

Harry stared.

“Don’t be jealous Harry, you know I only want to kick demon ass with you. You’re my real life hero.” she winked at him and left for work.

Harry decided he was going to go for the real thing, then and there. Dream Demons be damned.

#hacy #harry greenwood #macy vaughn

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kamino-ink · 6 years ago

Text

Smoke | Hwang Hyunjin

genre ⌁ high school!au, strangers-to-lovers, angsty, fluff sprinkled in loves

summary ⌁ you’re an infamous school druggie, always coming to school with bloodshot eyes, purple bags, and cracked, bloodied lips. rumors are nothing new to you, and in all honesty you don’t fight them - you don’t want to waste time on meaningless drama, after all. everything starts to change, in a way, when a quiet, easily amused boy comes to your school - and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

word count ⌁ 3.5k

warning ⌁ mentions of drug abuse, kinda heavy stuff - I can’t quite explain it without spoiling, but if you're sensitive to issues revolving around abortion, mentions of drug abuse, or anything of that matter - I highly suggest you go read another amazing fanfic in the community other than this one.

Check out my masterlist!

It is quiet in your bedroom. The tiny music box with a shy ballerina in the center of the stage no longer plays the gentle tune that you had since memorized as a small child, her stage broken and cracked from years of not being touched unless it was to be thrown angrily against a wall or your bedroom floor. The pathetic excuse of a vanity set up by one of your uncles many years ago is covered in bits of stray dust, stains of colorful makeup dried on it’s aging white surface. A lonesome eyeshadow pallet rests dangerously close to the edge of the vanity with the shattered mirror, now going on its second year of being unused; the same can be said for the foundation, the lid seeping with now dry product and dotted with old fingerprints.

It is lonely in your bedroom. There is no trace of happiness or laughter lingering in the open, chilly air being let in by the cracked window on the wall. When was the last time someone other than your dealer had stepped into that very room, now littered with blankets, papers, and old sentimentals? When was the last time you had a friend spend the night and build silly forts made of fluffy blankets and thin sheets? When was the last time your parents walked in to wake you up with a glass of water or a shake of your shoulder?

Gray puffs of silky smooth smoke billow into the dank air of your bedroom, seeping out along with a few stray ashes that drop onto your carpeted floor. It’s only your first cigarette of the day, so it doesn’t exactly do much for you - and it’s just a smaller dose of nicotine, nothing that made your cheeks flush a deep red in euphoria. But it would have to do until the end of the school day.

“-her eyes are so red, do you think all the drugs she does has made it permanent?”

“You think that’s weird? Check out her eyebags - I can’t believe the principal let’s a wild panda roam around our school!”

“Ew, look at her lips! I hope she doesn’t kiss her boyfriend with those lips.”

“Isn’t she dating that Mark Lee guy that graduated last year? I heard he’s a biker in a gang downtown.”

“No way, I totally saw her making out behind the cafeteria dumpsters with Jeno! Ugh, I would kill to kiss him-”

Mark Lee is someone you used to call your best friend, back in the days where neither of you had been addicted. While he was a good year older than you, the Canadian boy had not once left your side - not even when you became friends with a little pack of boys in your year; in fact, he had become the unofficial “dad” of the ragtag band of friends, trying to make sure none of you got into too much trouble in school.

That, obviously, had gone tumbling downhill when one of his older cousins introduced all of you to a drug called heroin. He said that it made you feel relaxed and totally stress free; and as naïve high school students who believed yourselves to be more mature than you really were at the time, each and every one of you tried it out. But only you and Mark kept going back to his cousin for more.

And then it got so, so much worse in just a couple of months before his graduation. You both had gotten high in the wee hours of the looming night, sat on top of the bleachers standing proudly on the football field where no school cameras could capture your faces, or the smoke that poured out between your lips. Mark had been using heroin just for the thrill, he said, stating promptly that he felt like a real man abusing the drug as much as he did. On the other hand, you sought false solace in the drug after long days of school and three different part-time jobs, as well as the constant neglect in your very own household. You didn’t think of this as an excuse, because you knew heroin was hurting your body and making you weaker - you hated it, but you also loved it.

After puffing out another cloud of stunning smoke, Mark subconsciously slid one of his larger hands onto your bare thigh, squeezing the cold flesh warmly in a sign of affection. It hadn’t been new to you at all, his touch - but then he inched it closer and closer up your skirt until his soft fingertips were just itching at the corner of your panties. You’d glanced at the senior in bewilderment, which made him blush and pull his hand back. He apologized, saying that his brain had been too foggy to think straight, and that he’d never meant to try and suggest anything more between the two of you. While you quickly forgave him, you noticed how he used that same old excuse for everything he did.

Got caught getting a blowjob from one of the school cheerleaders? Oops, he was high out of his mind and it didn’t mean anything. Found in possession of a firearm even though he wasn’t of age, nor did he have a permit? Uh oh, he was a bit woozy from his last puff. Joined his cousin’s little gang in Busan? That...wasn't a mistake. The second he graduated, Mark Lee packed his things and took a train to the city of Busan and never looked back, a white cigarette still burning between his lips as you and the other boys watched him board the train.

And Jeno - god he was like your brother, at one period in time, inching his way into what had been Mark’s space as your addiction got worse and worse with each passing day. He forced you to eat some of his lunch when you would pull out a miserable excuse of a sandwich from your bag, watching diligently to make sure you swallowed every single bite. He would help you brush out your rat’s nest of a head of hair in the girl’s bathroom every morning before the bell rang, ignoring the squealing girls with a cheeky grin and bright eye smile - even though he knew he could be suspended or expelled for it.

He sort of understood where you were coming from, as he himself was from a family of abusive parents that hit him so hard he’d come to school looking like he’d been in a car wreck. You would stay behind a few hours after the final bell each day, disinfecting his fresh scratches while he ranted about life at home. You didn't mind, because he was your brother, in a way - and you were his sister.

Then he left for a couple of months, early on in your senior year of high school - not returning until the first day of November. Turns out his parents had been caught abusing him by his grandma, who immediately took them to court and filed for custody of her precious grandson. She won the case, of course, and helped Jeno adapt to his new life full of warmth and love until he was ready to face the rumors back at school. After such trials and tribulation, you found that Jeno had moved on from you and instead took the reigns as the new “dad” of the group of friends that had been drifting away ever since the school year started. You didn’t blame him for wanting to break off any and all communication with someone who had a bad reputation for being high almost every single hour of the day - after all, he’d just broke apart from one toxic part of his life, why did he need to stick around and see if you were the same?

Now, you were completely and utterly alone, left to hang your head slightly as your fingertips slowly turned the locked dial on your steel gray locker.

“E-excuse me?”

With a small pop the door to your locker swung open, being caught from hitting your neighbor’s unsuspecting head at the last second. There wasn’t much use to your locker, since you barely kept anything in there besides a few extra textbooks that were rarely put to use inside the classroom.

“I-I’m sorry to bother you miss, but - but could you help me find my locker?”

You turn your head just enough to see a nervous looking boy staring down at you, and he jumped a bit in surprise when your gaze met his within those few milliseconds. “Yeah, of course. What number do you have?”

“Oh-! Um, it says... 4419.”

“That’s... actually right in front of you,” a snort of amusement escapes your lips while you point to the small sticker with his assigned locker number stuck to the middle of it’s rectangular shape, “did you maybe forget your contacts or glasses at home, new guy?”

‘New guy’ laughs softly at your teasing words, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. The sleeves of his pink knit sweater droop down to the tips of his fingers like paws and his plump lips twitch into a bit of a more relieved looking smile. “It looks like I forgot my common sense at my doorsteps, actually,” he hums, “my first day here and I’m already lost.”

You wonder if that’s how Mark felt when he left for college - did he even stick to his plans after high school? “Well, I can help you... not be lost, if you want.”

“Would you really? Thank you so much - erm, what’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, senior.”

“Well - miss Y/N, I’m Hwang Hyunjin, also a senior and the resident new kid.”

Creative writing is by far your favorite class in the whole wide world - you can let your imagination run free, touching the clouds and diving deep into the depths of the sea to your pounding heart’s content. What scribbles of your healthy brain are left untouched by the roots of heroine have bloomed into beautiful flowers of creativity and a love for writing. While your practice in the class is deemed strange to your other classmates, you find it peaceful and heart warming.

“What’re you writing about, Y/N?” Hyunjin’s already soft voice comes out as smooth as fresh, orange honey. The boy leans over a little to look at your computer screen already jumbled with ideas and bursting thoughts - class had just started fourteen minutes ago and you were still brainstorming while he’d messily put together a web of ideas that were a bit lackluster, in his opinion.

“I’m thinking of either writing a mafia alternate universe story about Park Jinyoung, or a cheesy romance ploy. Not too sure which one is better, honestly.”

You write fanfiction - or, for lack of a better term, content that involve your favorite idols in the universe; ranging from the queen herself Hyuna to Park Jinyoung of a band called GOT7, there’s no one you won’t write about. The pieces you write so eagerly are published not in a book, but onto a social media website called Tumblr where everyone in the communities you write for can read your work. You were never ashamed of admitting that you were a fanfiction creator because it made you happy and proud of what you could do; your online mutual would shower you in silly praises and jokingly scream at you in caps lock for more pain-filled scenarios. Complete strangers would leave red hearts on your posts and send you anonymous messages that made your little heart soar in joy.

Your schoolmates thought it to be super weird - I mean, writing fantasies about famous celebrities for anyone to see, quite possibly the celebrity themselves? They couldn’t wrap their heads around it, although you didn't blame them too much for their harsh critiques of your passion. You just enjoyed making up bizarre or somewhat realistic scenarios since it made you and so many other people happy - an emotion you couldn’t seem to grasp that often in the real world.

“Mafia stories are the thing these days, why not go back to the roots of romance and write about like, a cheesy badboy and a good girl plot? Nothing wrong with clichés.”

“Thanks for the input, Hyunjin.”

“No problem, Y/N - hey, make sure I get to be the first to read it though, alright?”

“Of course, don’t worry about it.”

The next two weeks, once filled with something quite similar to nothing at all, was filled with a bright light called Hwang Hyunjin. Clad in mostly just oversized shirts that would hang comically low, all the way down to his knees, or pastel knit sweaters along with plain jeans, the senior would stick by your side as if he was stuck there. Sure he made a few other friends, but he never failed to walk with you to lunch and plop down beside you at the otherwise empty table. He would offer you some of his lunch, since his mom had a habit of giving him proportions that a whole family of four could eat.

The second week of having Hwang Hyunjin around as a friend was... interesting, to say the least. He’d been a few minutes late arriving to your designated table in the corner of the cafeteria, leaving you by your lonesome to drown in your poisonous thoughts. Just earlier the same day, the vice principal had pulled you aside and expressed her concern for your disheveled hair - saying that it could be a distraction to other students. Pah, hair being a distraction? Why, you thought it was already bad enough to comment on clothes that showed shoulders - now this? Then again, you had an inkling of understanding, especially since whenever you tried to run your fingers through your hair like the blonde cheerleaders did they would almost immediately latch onto a nasty knot.

“Hey, sorry for - Y/N, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You hadn’t even noticed the stray tears dribbling down your flushed cheeks, nor the trembling of your chapped and bloodied lips that you’d been anxiously chewing on since the confrontation just hours ago in the hallway. “H-Hyunjin, do you... do you maybe have a brush with you?” The question slips through your lips like a mantra while you hang your head low in shame and glowering embarrassment.

There’s a pregnant pause, then you hear the boy shuffling in what you can only assume is his school bag. “Chin up, friend - I won’t be able to properly brush your hair if you let your pretty head droop so low.”

“I can do it myself.” The short words sound like a harsh jab, but Hyunjin thinks nothing of it. Instead your tall companion chuckles softly and helps you turn around so your back is facing his chest covered in a pastel blue material. “Hyu-”

“Shh, just relax and eat up. We only have thirty minutes, after all.” He hums cheekily, accepting your huff of defeat as a sign of encouragement to get started on brushing the tangles and knots out of your hair. His long fingers go to work first, carefully loosening up any problem areas so that when he brings a brush to your hair it won’t accidently tear any of the tendrils. “You know, your hair is really soft.”

You utter an almost inaudible, “thank you,” to the black haired boy, enjoying the way his fingers thread through your messy and tangled strands of hair. From the corner of your eye you spot Jeno, now sporting frosty white hair, leading Donghyuck, Jaemin, and Renjun into the crowded cafeteria. Somehow his eyes meet yours, then they drift over to the peaceful boy brushing through your hair. You’re too far away to see the way his gaze glimmers in remorse, perhaps even guilt sprinkled with hints of regret - though you’re too busy sending him an awkward wave to notice. The two of you had left things on not so much as a sour note, rather a mutual awkwardness.

But you don’t miss the tiny curl of his lips and the warm crescents of his eyes sending you a polite greeting back. While Jeno was likely to always stay in your past, you knew that deep down you both would always see each other as equals and something akin to true siblings.

For the person in the present, however - you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what Hwang Hyunjin was to you. Still, you hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t be apart of your past; just the present and the future.

“You know, my mom almost aborted me.”

Only Mark Lee and Jeno knew that your mom had been a drug addict when she was well into her pregnancy with her first, and only, child. Neither of them had much to say, assumingly because they didn’t know what they could say without coming off as intrusive or awkward.

But, of all people, Hwang Hyunjin knew just what to say - well, ask. “How come?”

The sky is a reflection of your mood, displaying poofy gray rainclouds spilling over with cold droplets of rain that echoed on the roof of his car. Its sunset painted hue with streaks of calming oranges and pinks had been stained with the markings of a dark, looming storm. Strikes of stunning yellow lightning crashed miles away from where the car was parked on a stray mountaintop, though the bellowing roars of thunder were enough to make you jump in the passenger's seat just a little.

“The doctors were worried about the fetus - me, since she was a heavy drug addict. Not much has changed in that aspect, I suppose.” You mutter mostly to yourself, even though you’re more than aware that the boy next to you can hear just about every single word being uttered from between your lips. A cigarette had been embedded in the crevice of your lips hours before, but you refused to smoke around Hyunjin, so before he picked you up from work you’d tossed it into the closest trash bin. “Low blood sugar, premature birth, all that jazz, you know?”

“I ended up having some super shitty breathing problems for the first year of my life - from what I was told, I rarely got to go home that year. My mom wanted to abort me at first, since she didn’t even want a kid in the first place and kind of didn’t want to risk having a weak baby that she’d be stuck with. My dad talked her out of it. Now... I don’t even remember the last time either of them has made me breakfast or hugged me.”

The boy next to you remains silent for a moment, his brain processing everything you’ve just told him. For just over a month he’s known you, calling you his friend and desiring in some cases for something more - but he had never pried too deep into your private life out of respect to your privacy. He had a hunch that life at home couldn’t have been the greatest of occurrences, since he made it his duty to help you brush your hair during the first class of the day; you were unmotivated to do just about anything. Depression, you said was what is was, ate you alive with every other passing minute in his eyes.

He leans over the console, free of his seatbelt since the pair of you had been parked on the mountaintop (well, ledge filled with parking spaces for sight seers) for the past two hours or so. With one arm going to rest on your shoulder, he lets the other fall down nicely into your lap so he can intertwine his warm fingers with your cold ones that usually held a budding cigarette. “While it would’ve been the safer option to - to not have you, I want to be selfish and say that I’m glad she didn’t.”

You feel the hand holding yours lift from your legging covered lap, just to brush under your jaw. “Why is that, Hyunjin?”

His knuckles and your own are controlled by his larger hand, meaning that he was the one to tilt your head up towards his own, half of his body still leaning over the console of his car. “Because... I never would’ve met you, Y/N.” His face inches down closer to your own flushed one, his lips brushing against yours as light as a feather.

Hwang Hyunjin has been your remedy to your heroin addiction for the past month or so since he entered your life. He didn’t judge you harshly, rather he’d come into your life with a nervous laugh and a warm smile tugged at his plump, pink lips. His reassuring words were enough to make you stop smoking every single morning before school. His words of encouragement made you realize that smoking twice a day only made your eyes even redder than before, to which you rounded down to just own measly smoke each day.

And his gentle kiss was enough to make you want to stop altogether, because you didn’t want Hwang Hyunjin to remember your first kiss tasting like remnants of smoke and drugs.

#skzwriters #stray kids #stray kids au #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin scenario #hyunjin imagine #stray kids high school au #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst

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johnny-and-dora · 7 years ago

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oh, what a beautiful morning

jake and amy's egg-cellent morning adventure - or the one where jake falls asleep to the sound of amy sifiting through paperwork and wakes up to the sound of her making him breakfast, much to his great amusement and only minor heartbreak. (early season 2 fluff) read on ao3

The first time Jake Peralta wakes up in Amy Santiago’s apartment, he wakes up to sunlight streaming through floral pattern curtains, a mildly concerning burning smell heavily permeating the air, and a string of loud expletives coming from the kitchen.

For a second, as his vaguely familiar surroundings swim before him, he thinks he could be back home - he’s lost count of the number of times his mom has started their mornings together by burning every breakfast item imaginable, as if she’s got some kind of arsonist agenda he should probably arrest her for (although, to be fair, it was a blessing in disguise when she accidentally singed off his ponytail in high school).

But then his brain finally shifts into gear and, with a jolt, he realises that it’s Amy’s voice fiercely arguing with various kitchen utensils next door. It’s Amy’s usually delicately folded guest blanket that is haphazardly yet somehow also carefully draped over him - and it’s Amy’s couch that he’s presumably been sprawled all over since he fell asleep midway through working that seemingly impossible case with her last night.

The case. Right. Definitely the only reason he would ever want to wake up in Amy Santiago’s apartment to Amy Santiago making him breakfast. After they spent the night together working a case, because they are respectful and professional police colleagues and will never be anything more.

Not that he’s ever thought about being more, obviously, right? Not like it’s basically consumed every waking thought he’s had ever since that stupid bet, every second of being undercover, every weird moment they’ve shared since he came back. Not at all.

He gets up, immediately feeling like a jerk for being here in the first place - shoving down a pang of guilt for so rudely taking up her couch like that and invading her privacy. She should have woken him up and let him shuffle back to his lumpy mattress and mail tub in peace; now she’s making him breakfast and he’s inevitably going to find some way to make it awkward for them for the rest of the day. Great.

Between the brick wall he’s hit this week trying to crack this case (literally, one of his perps actually threw him against a brick wall the other day) and...other things on his mind, he’s been basically narcoleptic for the past few days and now – well, now, Amy’s going to be scrubbing the Jake off of everything in her living room for weeks.

At least he hasn’t stained or broken anything – yet.

He thinks about leaving quietly, not wanting to intrude any further – but she draws him to the kitchen anyway, because he woke up in Amy Santiago’s apartment, and he’s going to enjoy every second he can get of her shouting match with her stove before she can notice him.

And right, okay, cool, Amy is still just as beautiful as usual when she’s wearing sweatpants and an old NYPD t-shirt, that’s cool. That’s fine.

And, of course, she’s still just as breathtaking when she’s becoming increasingly frustrated with the pan of char-grilled scrambled eggs she’s currently close to either arresting or unceremoniously flinging (he theorises, making a mental note not to piss her off so much that he has to peel the great egg monstrosity off of his face later) but that’s fine. No big deal. He can deal with that.

He has to deal with that. There’s no alternative to solving this mess he’s gotten himself into with this dumb crush. That’s all it can be - she’s with Teddy, and they’re probably going to get married and have loads of nerd children and live happily ever after. Even if she wasn’t, why would she ever want to be with him?

But for now, just for this one tiny barely significant moment, he indulges himself in a stare he can’t normally risk with Charles lurking around; leaning comfortably against the doorframe, unashamedly drinking every inch of her in.

Just for one moment.

And then he ashamedly forces himself to look away, because that’s creepy and unprofessional and definitely not something just a police colleague should ever do. As beautiful and chaotic Amy is at – he checks his watch – 7:30 in the morning (an ungodly hour, might he add) he finally decides to clear his throat, stepping into the kitchen.

“Are you...making me breakfast?”

She jumps slightly at the sound of his voice, whipping around and wielding a frying pan with such force and anger it might as well be a lightsaber. For a fraction of second Jake’s genuinely worried she might split him in half before he starts to laugh and she relaxes slightly, letting her weapon drop to her side as she casually tries (and fails) to look nonchalant, leaning back against her kitchen counter.

“No! What? Maybe...I, erm, felt bad for leaving you on the couch.” “Awww, Ames – was I just too adorable that you couldn’t bear to wake me up?” “No, I just didn’t want to go anywhere near your drool.”

“Oh, ew. Gross.” Jake runs a hand through his hair, suddenly achingly aware of how much of a mess he must look – at the same time as Amy realises she’s still wearing her pyjamas and her cheeks flush a light shade of pink.

So really, he’s nailing the whole not making it awkward thing. Score.

“Sorry for...umm. Yeah. Falling asleep. Didn’t mean to intrude.” “Oh, it’s fine. You were kinda out cold and I figured you could use the rest. This case has been kicking our ass.”

“Yeah. So, anyway, what did these eggs do to you to deserve this? Must be a serious felony.” Jake gestures to the pan Amy’s been wrestling with for the past ten minutes and she rolls her eyes, smiling in the way that always catches in his chest.

“Shut up, Peralta. I was trying to do something nice.” “Are you sure you don’t want me to call in Major Crimes to make this bust?” “I will force feed you this if it kills me, and it will probably kill you.” “Should I file a report for police brutality?” “I swear to God-“

“Okay, okay, I’m done.” He holds up his hands in mock defeat as she turns the stove off, wafting the air in an ineffectual attempt to get rid of the lingering smoky scent. He’s only quiet for a minute, though, before he just can’t help himself –

“Really, I think you’re an egg-ceptional cook. I’m not egg-aggerating at all.” “...I will destroy you with this frying pan.”

“C’mon, Santiago, that’s a bit egg-streme. I’m egg – “Before Jake can even finish, she’s chasing him around the kitchen, whacking him while he half laughs, half cries in pain. They both almost collapse in laughter on the tiled floor, every inhibition or awkward moment forgotten; and yeah, it hurts that maybe they’ll never be more than police colleagues in that way.

But the way his stomach aches from laughing shows that they’re definitely friends. And for this morning, that’s enough.

It’s more than enough, really. Enough doesn’t even begin to cover how grateful he is to find someone who’ll let him sleep on their couch and make him breakfast and still enthusiastically belt him within an inch of his life with a kitchen utensil.

He’s lucky to have her. He’s way too uncomfortable with emotions to ever be able to let her know that, but he is.

“I was going to say sorry! I’m egg-sorry!” “Do you want breakfast or not, because at this point I’m more than willing to just let you starve.” “...I’ll eat the rest of the pizza if you make some coffee?”

Amy sighs and shoves her blackened amalgamation of a breakfast into the trash, wrinkling her nose in disgust as Jake helps himself to the rest of last night’s leftover pizza.

She pours herself a bowl of cereal and makes them both coffee, and it’s...nice. It’s surprisingly natural, actually, as he sits on her kitchen counter, swinging his legs back and forth and making fun of her parchment scroll length itemised shopping list tacked neatly to the fridge. Like he belongs there.

He sifts through the files that are still strewed haphazardly on the coffee table as Amy gets dressed – showing up two days in a row to work in the same clothes is pretty normal for him anyway, so he doesn’t have to worry about that. They’re both ready for work by the time Jake’s alarm normally goes off, and for once he can guarantee that this time he’s not going to be late.

He can’t wait to see the look on Holt’s face.

“Ready to go?” “Yeah. Um, thank you. For, y’know. Breakfast.”

“That’s okay.” She smiles warmly at him and he can practically feel his heart bursting out of his chest. God, he’s such an idiot. They just sort of stare at each other for a moment before her face lights up.

“Oh, by the way, sleeping beauty – I totally solved the case while you were out.” “What? No way!” “Uh huh. It was the contractor’s wife; she used two fake ID’s, a Mexican passport and the bread knife we found in the dumpster. Want to help me make the arrest?” “The wife! I knew it! Obviously I was so close, really I was just sleeping to give you a chance to –“

Her pointed look cuts him off, and she rolls her eyes as he gives her a dorky grin.

And, just for this one tiny barely significant moment, his stupid crush on Amy Santiago isn’t so overwhelmingly, well, crushing, and everything between them is so, so good.

Even if the smell of smoke around them is still lightly suffocating, and his heart still starts beating way too fast every time he looks at her, and Amy will be scrubbing the orange soda stains off of her couch for weeks.

(Of course, the next time he wakes up in Amy Santiago’s apartment it’ll be in her bed, with Amy Santiago sleeping softly beside him, and everything between them will be better than he could have ever possibly imagined.) (But he doesn’t need to know that.)

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

#my writing #i actually posted a full fic on here for once!#yay!#i honestly have no idea what this is #but i've been dying to write for months now #and this was all my poor tired brain could produce #so i hope you like it #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #peraltiago #b99 fic #amy santiago #jake peralta #fluff for the soul #and a bit of pining because #i can only ever write pining #shut up sian

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hannahsfanficsforyou · 4 years ago

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A Whole New World pt.2

I keep a steady pace walking east towards my destination, or I guess I’ll just trust Terra that it’s the right way to get out of this huge forest. I never was one for hiking but thank God it’s not too hot. Eventually I see another figure walking in a few yards in front of me. My eyes widen and I mutter a thank God before picking up my pace into a run towards them.

“Aaliyah!” I yell as I run at them from behind and skid to a halt as I accidentally run past them since they stopped. “Thank God the friend they were talking about is actually my friend and not some rando!” I say exasperated and panting a little bit from my sprint.

She laughs “So I was wondering who that creepy fire ghost looking thing was talking when they were explaining all that BS to me, really wizards? Saving the world, ultra powerful magic? Why us? This is too much like a movie, it doesn’t make sense.”

I nod as we walk together, feeling much more comfortable with an actual friend by my side in this apparently foreign world. “Yeah I don’t know it still feels too much like a dream to believe it’s real, wait have you tried using magic yet? I guess you are fire so how does that work, apparently I can control like plants and dirt and shit- not actual shit but, never mind you know what I meant. I haven’t tried doing magic yet because like I don’t know she said some shit about visualizing it in my soul and reaching and finding the magic inside myself but I’ve just been hiking to get to the damn town right now”

Aaliyah laughs “Hell yeah watch this” She hold her hand out and a flame pops up and just she grins at me “Damn! I’m failing already pfft I haven’t even tried to use any, let me try to do something ugh god hold on” I shake my head, wow we are supposed to save the world together and I’ve not even got the basics down. Okay oh god what am I doing. I close my eyes and call to the forest and for a split second I felt a tug inside me and I open my eyes and a vine is wiggling in front of me, my eye bulge and I wave my hand at a tree and the vine curls around the tree going all the way to the top. “Oh, wow, okay this is pretty sick, but I don’t think I’m ready to fight anyone, like what am I gonna do to stop the evil from destroying the world, strangle him with my vines, geez I feel like poison Ivy.”

Me and Aaliyah laugh and keep heading back in the direction of the town, as we walk it seems like the tree roots move out of my way, my mind starts wandering and I trip on a fallen branch “Shit!” I close my eyes and brace my hands in front of myself but no impact comes. I open my eyes and a few vines had come together and caught me before I fell, I was stunned and looked over at Aaliyah, she looked stunned too before throwing a small ball of flames at the vines which caused them to disintegrate and I fall to the floor with a yelp. Aaliyah is laughing but I glare at her, smirking, I control a tree branch and wack her in the back, and we both laugh as I get up.

“Wow this is kind of, really fun, in a weird acid trip type way. I mean damn this magic is really cool, isn’t it weird, it feels so natural once we’ve tried using it, I feel so connected the plants and everything here, It’s like I can feel the ground breathing under me, in sync and harmonious with all of nature. I’m sure it’s gonna get a lot crazier than this though, I know I’m not ready to fight any super powerful wizard.” I say while my hands drift over the plants and flowers. “Well I’m kinda sketched by being in this forest, who knows what weird animals are here that aren’t normal since it is a different world than ours, probably some weird human eating monkeys or some shit.” I shudder at the thought and we both pick up the pace.

“Do you feel like we are running kind of weirdly fast, and I’m not tired at all? Is this like because of all the magic, are wizards super humans here?” I ask while hopping, I focus and try to jump as high as I can and I actually jump up into a tree. “WHAT THE HELL” I look down at Aaliyah and I start laughing really loud “Dude this is actually insane, okay I’m really fucking excited about being here now, this is LEGIT CRAZY, I’m gonna try to jump down and hopefully I can land without breaking my legs, LETS GO” I say and hop down on to the forest floor. “I swear I feel like a crack head right now, I’m going insane.”

We keep walking and honestly how big is this damn forest, “Hey Aaliyah lets take a break, my feet are killing me, we must have been so deep in the forest.” I say while leaning up against a tree and Aaliyah nods sitting down on a log near me. I feel so relaxed with the breeze flowing through my hair I close my eyes. It almost feels like I’m sinking into the tree like we were connected as I leaned against it. “Hannah?! Where did you go?” My eyes snap open at Aaliyah’s words “I’m right here what are you talking about?” I look down at myself and “Woah what the hell” It’s like my body has taken on a camouflage form and my body has blended in with the tree. Aaliyah sees me as I wave my hand and I stand up but my body shifts with the scenery “Okay.. this is cool but how do I get it to stop. Oh lord.” I focus and imagine my body normal again and I open my eyes and “Wow that worked? Huh they do say to visualize what you want.” Aaliyah shakes her head “How come you get cool shit like camouflage and I get to shoot fire out of my hands” I laugh at her comment “Bro I bet you are like immune to being burned by fire though, like you can probably do a lot of shit we just haven’t found out yet, like this party is just getting started.”

After walking for what seems like miles we finally reach the tree line and we stand on top of a hill overlooking the whole city “Wow” I say breathless, the view is gorgeous, the city has classic looking brick buildings and my eyes immediately go to the gorgeous cathedral, it took my words away and I could only stare, “Damn, imagine getting married in that...Holy crap. Hehe maybe I’ll find a man in this world.” I say with a stupid smirk while elbowing Aaliyah, she just shakes her head “Maybe we both will” [rip shaun ur not in this universe]

“Look that other big building must be a guild right, it sounded pretty infamous so it must be in a big building, interesting logo... Well lets head for it then.” We both shimmy our way down the hill and make our way into the city.

My eyes wander around all the buildings, restaurants, clothing stores, bakery’s, and magic shops, book stores and houses. “Wow these houses are adorable, I bet they are expensive. Wait shit where the fuck are we gonna stay? Oh god we have no house no money oh lord crappp.” I say outwardly freaking out to my friend while we make our way through the streets towards the giant building that is the guild. “Okay, yeah but let’s just get to the guild and join and then maybe we can ask for a place to stay on a loan or something, right?” Aaliyah suggests and I nod, anxiety still at the surface of my insides.

“Bro we have got to go shopping after we get money some how, I honestly don’t know how this world’s money and jobs work but maybe people join guilds for jobs? So maybe we can use our magic to make money yeah? God I hope or else we are just using our magic to save the world and I would also like to eat... Money is at the top of my list right now.” I say while slouching a bit since I didn’t realize how hungry I was from that hike.

We approach the doors of the guild “So, you ready to explain this all to that Makarov dude and join this shit, cause I’m gonna get food money one way or another.” She shrugs and I shrug back and laugh “Fuck it” I open the door and we walk in. I look around and a couple people look our way but most are simply keeping to themselves and drinking with other people I assume are in the guild.

“Why do I feel like when people look at us they are staring at our crystals I mean that can’t be weird right, I mean magic exists here they can’t be weirded out by crystals on someones forehead.. Oh god” I shake off the stares and we walk towards the bar to ask for their guild leader.

“Hi” I say with a smile to the bartender with long white hair who look gorgeous, and she smiles sweetly in return “Hi what can I do for you?”

“Well we are magic- uh users, wizards yes, ehm, and we were wondering if we could speak to your leader about joining? This is Fairy Tail right..” I say while blushing a bit at my awkwardness.

She just smiles more with a twinkle in her eye “Yes, this is Fairy Tail and give me one second I’ll get our master”

I look at Aaliyah and make a face “master? We have to call him that.. Haha bruh okay kinky but I guess I’m down” I say while laughing at my own joke, I can’t take anything seriously even when I know the worlds gonna end huh.

A small old man approaches, and by small I mean good god hes walking along the bar to stand at my height, ew I hope they wash that bar. “Hello ladies, so I take it you two want to join, and you are wizards who can use magic yes, then of course you can join, welcome to Fairy Tail!”

I look at Aaliyah and make another face “...It’s that easy? Uhm okay well actually thank you but can we talk to you in private about something.” I say and he just nods and motions to follow him as he jumps down off the bar. We enter the room and explain the situation to him “Hm yes I understand the Lacrima on your foreheads better now, well I’m concerned with these new revelations especially that the four origins deemed it so concerning that they sent their own magic wielders, it is probably in relation to the dark wizard Zeref but thank you for trusting me with this information, if you go back out the same woman who greeted you will give you your guild marks.”

“Thank you so much and erm well Terra or Earth origin brought us from... lets say very far away and we don’t really have anywhere to stay or actually we don’t have anything with us at all, so is there somewhere we can stay on a loan maybe, until we can get work somewhere.” I ask shyly while feeling itchy for asking to stay somewhere for free.

He grins “Since you both are sent here for important reasons we do have dorms for our female wizards you can stay in and we will give you rent for six months for free, but if you decide or have to stay longer on this quest which we would love to have you even after this threat is gone, then you will have to pay the rent, I’m sure you will both be having money come in by then anyhow, you both seem very adaptable. I’ll come out to explain the situation to Mirajane and get you keys to two dorms you can stay in.”

We follow him out to the woman and get our dorm keys, and she hold out a stamper I assume it’s magic and going to permanent unless we leave the guild, she asks where we would like it and I choose my right shoulder while Aaliyah gets hers on the back of her left hand. When Mira stamps my guild mark on she looks shocked for a moment and stares “What- oh no whats wrong with it” I look at my shoulder and the guild mark is green but its constantly shimmering and changing shades of green, “...Is that normal” She looks and stamps Aaliyahs hand where she asked and it does the same as mine but is constantly changing shades of red.

“My, my how strange, guild marks are solid colors, they never act like that... You two are very strange indeed, not a bad strange but very interesting!” She says while giggling. Me and Aaliyah look at each other with a silent ‘so much for not drawing attention and people asking questions.’ Mira leads us over to a bulletin board with flyers on it. “These are job request flyers, most people take on jobs that their magic is useful for but some jobs don’t require magic and are just an odd job of helping retrieve or do a task for someone.” She explains and I think to myself jeez this is a lot easier way of making money than sitting in an office wasting away for fifty years of my life. “Thanks for explaining it to us Mirajane!” I say smiling “We better go get settled into our dorms and then we will probably be back to pick a job. Since we need the magic training too!” I say smiling and me and Aaliyah go to leave. She waves at us and tells us to come by for a free meal or two later.

I grin at her words and open the door to leave but as I step through I hit a solid mass and fall back a bit, Jesus Christ what the hell who put a brick wall right outside the door- oh, oh no. My face instantly goes beet red at the sight of the 6′3 no maybe even 6′4 solid man with a fluffy coat on his shoulders and blonde hair shining in the sun, his unbothered eyes meet mine and I have to look away because yikes, they are just too intense to ever hold eye contact with.

I grab Aaliyah’s arm and slide past the man before anything else could happen mumbling a sorry and then when I’m a few feet away and still internally freaking out over the damn hottest man I had ever seen or good god felt in my whole life I said “Holy shit Aaliyah I think I’m gonna stay here forever, screw our world that man is the FINEST thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” She rolls her eyes “I mean if that’s what your into I guess, you could never hit on him though, you just freak out and go full defense mode and insult whoever you like, plus he could be married.”

“BAH! You need to stop actually knowing me so well that you can call me out on my dumb way of flirting, but I seriously pray to gods everywhere he isn’t married, did you see that lightning scar on his eye oh my God I think I’m melting that big hunk of lightning is the yummiest thing, oh god I’m just gonna stop talking because you are right even if we interacted which we never will I’ll just act uninterested and probably insult him.” I shake my head as we continue walking toward the Fairy Hill’s dorms as I sigh in a dramatic way “We are doomed, we are probably gonna fail at saving the world and I won’t get my lightning hunk.” I fake cry like a drama queen and Aaliyah gives me an eye adding “Stop being a pessimist, we might be able to save the world, if we actually train our powers and not waste time drooling over men, then we might have at least a small chance.”

I make a pouty face at her comment and add “Yeah but maybe if I get hunky lightning man he can just help me fight and I won’t have to do much.” I say laughing evilly, then I sigh “yeah you are right we should train, I guess get a job or two together too. Oh lord this is gonna be a long, pfft I don’t even know how long it is till the end of the world so I can’t even say.” We both laugh as we make our way towards the dorms unknowing that a certain hunk of lighting caught the beginning of my comment.

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angstalottle · 8 years ago

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Ties That Bind Us

Part 4:

As the days went by the changes to Lance became more and more noticeable. And Keith found himself finding it harder and harder to ignore their kiss. Lance yawned as he entered the kitchen in a tank top and shorts, causing Keith to nearly choke on the food goo he was eating for breakfast. The blue freckles were splattered across his cheeks and nose, even appearing in his bare shoulders, arms and legs, glowing softly in the dim light of the hallway. His hair had started to turn a dark blue at the routes with only the tips remaining the original brown. However it was his eyes that really caught Keith’s attention. They had stayed that beautiful blue, however he had gained swirls of dark and pale greens that intertwined like a bottomless ocean. All and all Keith was completely helpless to the beautiful blue paladin. “Morning.” Lance nodded taking a seat so close that Keith could smell the clinging scent of face mask on his skin. “M-morning Lance… erm did you sleep well?” Lance just shrugged pulling a bowl towards him and started eating “I guess so. Had a really weird dream.” “Weird hmm? What was it about?” Keith asked trying to tear his eyes away from the other boy’s mouth. “I can’t really remember it, I just know it must of been weird because I felt super strange this morning.” “Strange how?” Keith asked leaning closer. Lance slowly shook his head “I don’t know… like I just feel like I’m off today…or…” Lance trailed off blinking slowly up at Keith with an odd expression. He suddenly wrapped his arms around him and moved so he was sitting on the others lap. “L-Lance!” Keith stuttered turning red “what are-” he was cut off by Lance pulling his face towards his and kissing him. Keith made a small noise of surprise as Lance’s tongue made its way into his mouth. This wasn’t like before. This was different then their last kiss this was way… Hotter. Keith wrapped his hands round Lance’s back pulling his body closer to his own. If there was a God then this moment would never end. “Hey guys wh- ew ew ew why in the kitchen!” Pidge had walked in on them closely followed by Shiro. Keith practically pushed Lance off him in surprise. “I erm.. I can explain!” Keith yelled while Lance nuzzled his face into Keith neck. Shiro coughed awkwardly “though I’m happy for you guys… but the kitchen really?” “Good morning Paladins. I hope you are all well this fine morning.” Coran chirped as he pushed past Shiro and Pidge who were frozen on the spot. Coran joined them in their state of shock when he saw the position the red paladin and his grandson were in. His eyebrow twitched as he smiled and shifted to gain a few extra inches before he walked over to tower of Keith. “Care to explain?” Coran asked with strained ease. “I swear nothing happened… ok we made out a bit but like Lance was saying he felt strange then he kissed me and-” Keith was silenced when Coran held up a hand. “Strange how?” He questioned dropping down to one knee and carefully turning Lance to face him. “I don’t know… we never got round to that part.” Keith blushed even redder from the look Shiro gave him that just screamed that he was in for a lecture later. Coran placed the back of his hand on Lance’s forehead and frowned slightly. “I do believe Lance has the start of the dizzies.” “Whats dizzies?” Pidge asked. “It’s something that young Altean get. Tends to make them very erm…” Coran gestures to the intertwined Paladins “well you can see for yourselves. But along with this it’s normal for them to lose all sense of balance, control over shape shifting, and even be a bit queasy… however… I am not sure how Dizzies will effect someone who is half human.” Coran gestured for Shiro to come over and he did as asked. “Are humans supposed to be so warm?” He asked. Shiro placed his flesh hand on Lance’s forehead “no their not. He had a fever.” Keith looked down at the cuddling Lance only now noticing the paleness beneath his blue freckles. How his brown tipped hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. How his beautiful eyes were closed, his face scrunched up in pain. Most importantly the large amount of heat radiating off him as he cuddled into Keith chest.

#langst #klance #klangst #fluff #ties that bind us #part 5 #Coran #Keith #Pidge #Shiro #altean lance #lance

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dinatlou · 8 years ago

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DO ALL 100!

Here we go… I’ve finally done it!

1: is there a boy/girl in your life?Nope, I’m a single Pringle

2: think of the last person who hurt you; do you forgive them?It wasn’t actually one person it was a group of people and absolutely not. I can’t forgive them for what they said and did (I’m not going to get into it tho)

3: what do you think of when you hear the word “meow?”My cat :)

4: what’s something you really want right now?Idk, I’m not sure I want to get too deep about it lol

5: are you afraid of falling in love?Me!? Afraid of falling in love? What would make you think such a thing (you’re totally right)

6: do you like the beach?I do! Although I don’t go loads of tbh. The beach is so calming and peaceful. I just get stressed in the summer bc bees and wasps are about.

7: have you ever slept on a couch with someone else?I slept on one half of a sofa while someone’s sat in the other half?? Does that count? Wasn’t like cute or anything. It’s family so like????

8: what’s the background on your cell?Just generic one that came on my phone. My lock screen is me, my sister and two of my cousins

9: name the last four beds you were sat on?Mine x3 and my sisters :’)

10: do you like your phone?Yeah I do!! Idk what else to say ahaha

11: honestly, are things going the way you planned?NO OMG?! It’s actually the complete opposite to what I had in mind. I never even imagined my life would be remotely like this but I suppose my minds like a little dream land or something?

12: who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts?Probably two of my friends. I never had their numbers because we would just talk on Facebook or whatever.

13: would you rather have a poodle or a rottweiler?Poodle!!

14: which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain?Emotional!! If you get a cut, it’ll scab over. If you break a bone, you get a cast. If you’re hurt mentally/emotionally/psychologically there isn’t a quick fix to that

15: would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum?Hmmm, idk. Maybe a zoo? Don’t hate me I know they shouldn’t be there but..idk

16: are you tired?Always ahahha

17: how long have you known your 1st phone contact?I’ve already answered this one and I cba to write it out again ahaha

18: are they a relative?The girl I talked about in the other ask isn’t no, she’s a friend.

19: would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes?I mean, maybe if I had an ex to even get back with?

20: when did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with?Never apparently, never kissed anyone

21: if you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?Well, one I’m single. But if I was with someone and I knew I was going to be with them forever I would marry them…but not now. I’m only 17 and I can’t fork out for a wedding rn ahaha

22: would you kiss the last person you kissed again?Again, seems impossible.

23: how many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now?0 haha

24: is there a certain quote you live by?I guess “Ohana means family” from Lilo and Stitch? I used to say it a lot as a kid. It’s stuck really. Family is really important to me but I’m also a believer that family isn’t always blood

25: what’s on your mind?lol too much

26: do you have any tattoos?No, but I think I might get one at the end of the year (hopefully school won’t notice)

27: what is your favorite color?Hmmm, probably purple

28: next time you will kiss someone on the lips?Erm….unlikely

29: who are you texting?Currently no one. The last person I text in general was my sister lol

30: think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on a couch?They’re non existent!

31: have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and you were right?Yes, think I have a sixth sense or something. I know when people are being off with me, don’t like me, I can kinda guess if they’re lying or not telling me something.

32: do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?Nope! Don’t really have many friends anyway

33: do you think anyone has feelings for you?No, probably not. But if someone out there does, hiya! Make ya self known (although a relationship is probs the last thing I need rn)

34: has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?Nope! My eyes are small and so dark brown they’re nearly black so…

35: say the last person you kissed was kissing someone right in front of you?Again, weird concept bc someone will be stood in front of me kissing no one?

36: were you single on valentines day?Of course I was? Have you noticed the pattern here?

37: are you friends with the last person you kissed?I’m going to continue to be sarcastic about this until the end you do realise?

38: what do your friends call you?My name? Mads or Maddie.

39: has anyone upset you in the last week?Idk, I’m upset a lot of the time anyway ahahah

40: have you ever cried over a text?Yep! I know ew

41: where’s your last bruise located?I’m not too sure? Probably my leg or something ahah

42: what is it from?Probably knocked it off a table or my bed lol

43: last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad?Now :) contemplating changing my plans to get awayyyy (it won’t happen tho lol)

44: who was the last person you were on the phone with?Apparently my dad last week! You can tell I like never ring people.

45: do you have a favourite pair of shoes?Any of my trainers tbh. My trainers or another pair of shoes that idk what they’re called lol

46: do you wear hats if your having a bad hair day?Na bc school. Can’t wear hats. Don’t really have any to wear anyway

47: would you ever go bald if it was the style?Probably not? Idk

48: do you make supper for your family?Nope!

49: does your bedroom have a door?It does but I barely close it?

50: top 3 web-pages?Idk. I don’t use a computer or laptop too often unless it’s for school stuff or Netflix

51: do you know anyone who hates shopping?Erm, probably. My dad likes food shopping but not like shopping shopping.

52: does anything on your body hurt?My shoulder, I pulled a muscle last night!

53: are goodbyes hard for you?Depends who it is and how long it’s for?

54: what was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?Probably Coke :/

55: how is your hair?Erm, it’s good?? Idk what this questions really asking tbh?? It’s short and thick and kinda blond now??

56: what do you usually do first in the morning?Roll over. Then go on my phone when I pull myself together

57: do you think two people can last forever?I like to think yes. That there’s someone for everyone and all that. But people change and grow naturally so it’s easy for two people to move apart.

58: think back to january 2007, were you single?OF COURSE!?

59: green or purple grapes?Either I don’t mind. I eat purple grapes more bc that’s what my parents buy

60: when’s the next time you will give someone a big hug?Idk

61: do you wish you were somewhere else right now?Erm yep

62: when will be the next time you text someone?Idk. Tonight, tomorrow? Normally it’s me texting my sister a video or smth

63: where will you be 5 hours from now?Asleep!

64: what were you doing at 8 this morning.Sleeping, I woke up just before 9.

65: this time last year, can you remember who you liked?No one. This time last year was difficult. Didn’t have time for that

66: is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?Yep! My two friends

67: did you kiss or hug anyone today?No. Did yesterday though

68: what was your last thought before you went to bed last night?“I feel so sick”

69: have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?Yeah of course I have? But then again, hasn’t everyone?

70: how many windows are open on your computer?Currently 0, I’m not on my computer.

71: how many fingers do you have?All 10 :)

72: what is your ringtone?Generic iPhone one

73: how old will you be in 5 months?Still 17…but I’ll nearly be 18

74: where is your mum right now?In the living room

75: why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love?Bc they were a twat (I didn’t love them but said person fits this question best)

76: have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?Nope!

77: are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago?Well, two people….I’m not going to get into this though

78: do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7?Yes. Kinda links to the earlier twat

79: is there anyone you know with the name mike?Yep! One of teachers hahah

80: have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?No I don’t think so

81: how many people have you liked in the past three months?0

82: has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last 3 days?Nope

83: will you talk to the person you like tonight?Nope, don’t like anyone

84: you’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with?Unlikely scenario but probably my best friend

85: if your bf/gf was into drugs would you care?Well…yeah I would if they’re killing themselves everyday?

86: what was the most eventful thing that happened last time you went to see a movie?We got given the tickets for free off a group of lads!!

87: who was your last received call from?Sadly the doctors ahaha

88: if someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you?This screams butterfly effect to me….couldn’t

89: what is something you wish you had more of?Time? Energy? Confidence?

90: have you ever trusted someone too much?I have total trust issues. So probably :)

91: do you sleep with your window open?Occasionally

92: do you get along with girls?More than boys yeah. Idk. I haven’t found my people

93: are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth?No?

94: does sex mean love?Apparently not to some

95: you’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem?Yeah? Bc I’m locked in a room by my fkn self

96: have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring?:)))

97: did you sleep alone this week?Erm yeah every night?

98: everybody has somebody that makes them happy, do you?I guess yeah!

99: do you believe in love at first sight?I think it’s more lust? Or love with their looks/vibe? You can’t love a person by just looking at them

100: who was the last person that you pinky promise?Couldn’t tell you!

#long post #ask #anon #personal #it's finally done!

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