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yournotsolocalcryptid · 4 years ago

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Just Someone You Used to Know

part 1/? | from this ask

NEXT (Lost In Thought and Lost In Time)

Summary: Your childhood friend Billy (whom you thought was dead) turns up at a hospital and you get a call about it.

pairing(s): Billy/Four x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings/authors notes: the request was for Hurt/comfort and while there's not a ton of that in this chapter there will be elements of it and also a lot of other things. angst, fluff, a lot of emotions going on here. swearing. poor writing skills, barely proofread/edited. this will be a multi-part fic, tho I don't know how many yet.

word count: 2.3k

Your phone lit up with a call from an unknown number which you promptly ignored and continued with your day as you figured If it was important they’d leave a message, which they did. When you had a free moment you grabbed your phone clicked on the message.

“Hello, is this Y/N?” said a voice you didn't recognize “I’m a nurse and a man was just brought in having sustained some injuries. when we asked him if there was anyone we could call to be with him he said your first name and listed this number. He had no forms of identification but he said his name was Billy.”

This made you stop cold. The nurse continued but you weren’t quite hearing what she said. Your mind was reeling. Billy? Your Billy? Surely not, you must’ve misheard or maybe the nurse did, or maybe the nurse misspoke and had really said “willy” or the man just spouted random numbers in a delirium caused by his injuries that happened to make up your number. That must be it because Billy is dead. Your Billy died several years ago. You attended his funeral and had mourned him with your whole being every day since.

You relistened to the voicemail to clarify you hadn’t misunderstood and there it was clear as day Billy. You ran a hand over your face and tried to focus as the voice continued, stating the name and address of there they were as well as what floor and wing of the hospital which you wrote down. You stared at the address. The rational part of you said not to go. Not to get your hopes up because Billy will not be there. Billy is in the cemetery a few miles from where you were and yet... and yet everything else in you was screaming at you to go. You knew he wouldn’t be there and you’d be heartbroken all over again but there was a man, an injured man who may not be your Billy but who needed someone nonetheless. After staring at the address for what felt like an eternity you stood abruptly, put your shoes on, grabbed your things and swept out the door.

When you arrived at the hospital you went to the desk in the correct wing and on the correct floor (you triple-checked) you stated your name and explained how you got a call about a man named Billy. The woman at the desk checked a few things and clarified your name before directing you to the waiting room. You made your way to a chair and sat on the edge of it bouncing your leg and fiddling with your fingers. You were anxious, very anxious, and your mind was racing. After a few minutes, a nurse walked in and called your name, you stood and went to her. She leads you down a hallway and stopped outside a room.

She turned to you and said, “He has a fractured wrist, face lacerations, lots of bruising, and we had to take him to surgery to stop some internal bleeding. He’s probably still asleep from the procedure but he should be all right and should no complications arise he should be about to go home within the next few days” you nodded, your eyebrows knitted together “would you like me to come in with you?” she asked and you shook your head, no. she nodded briefly and said, “I’ll be at the nurse’s station we just passed should you need anything and please press the ‘call nurse’ button when he wakes up” then she smiled warmly and went on her way.

You turned to face the door and placed a shaking hand on the handle. You took a deep breath and opened the door.

The first thing you saw when you opened the door was the beautiful blond man you’d once known lying in the hospital bed, covered in cuts and bruises and unconscious. You went to his bedside unsure of what to feel. Your heart swelled a little when you saw him, but you were also scared and hurt and confused and angry. You reached out a hand and brushed some hair out of his face, almost as a way to confirm his existence, to confirm he was actually there and you hadn't lost your mind.

As your fingertips made contact, your eyes dropped shut and your lip quivered. You retracted your hand and collapsed onto the floor as sobs tore through your body, your mind swirling with questions. How was he alive? Why did he tell them to call you of all people? Where has he been this whole time? How could he have faked his death? How could he have put you through that? How was he back?

After a while, the sobbing and tears subsided and a certain numbness took over you as the questions faded to be replaced with memories. Memories of Billy danced through your mind as you sat on the floor, cheeks streaked with the tears you hadn’t bothered to wipe away. Billy was your best friend and your first… everything really. First kiss, first love, first sexual partner, first heartbreak, first death of a loved one- or so you’d thought anyway, the first person you’d ever mourned and now, the first person you’d ever known to somehow return from the dead. Billy and you had what seemed like a complicated history, friends to lovers back to friends but he had been your person in every way. He was the one you went to about everything and you were his. His “death” had crushed you. But now, he was just someone you used to know.

You were brought back to reality by shifting in the bed before you and the sound of a sharp intake of breath. You glanced up and saw Billy looking at you, his face twisted in pain and his casted hand holding his ribs. He had clearly tried to sit up on his own. You stood and pushed him back down. With one hand still on his chest, you reached for the button to call the nurse. As you did you felt his unharmed hand cover yours and you froze. You could feel him looking at you but you couldn't get yourself to look back. You heard the doorknob rattle and you pulled away from him, wiping your face on your sleeve and turned to see the same nurse as before entering the room. You gave her a quick, tight smile and sat in one of the chairs near the bed. Over the next several minutes as the nurse checked in with Billy you sat numbly. You saw Billy glance your way once or twice but you paid no attention. You just zoned out. When the nurse turned to leave you shot her another quick smile.

Once the door closed behind her, you saw Billy open his mouth to speak up you held up a hand to stop him. The two of you sat in silence for a long while as you wrestled with your emotions. Your heart telling you to go to him, be happy he’s back and love him, your mind telling you to scream, yell, chew him out because how very dare he hurt you like that? and your body was telling you to just break down again.

After a long while, choosing your words very carefully, you said, “did you have a good reason?”

Billy gulped, knowing exactly what you were referring to “yeah, love. but I-” you held up a hand again and he stopped again instantly

“I am so pissed at you right now. I can’t-” you took a deep breath “I accept that you had a reason but I lost my best friend, my-” you paused “I lost everything when I lost you and now you’re here. And I’m so fucking angry but also… you’re here. You’re actually fucking here and shit… I’m so mad at you. How fucking dare you”

Billy was silent, staring at his lap

You sat in silence again. Both unsure of what to say or do or feel. Both aching for each other, having missed the other dearly. As upset as you were, Billy was actually here. He was right there, just a few steps away and you just couldn’t help yourself. You stood and his head whipped toward you. You went to his bedside and gestured for him to scooch over, which he did with a puzzled look on his face, and you lay on your side next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I missed you” you whispered as you gently played with his fingers on his non-injured hand.

Billy leaned over, placed a kiss on your forehead, and said “I missed you too, love”

Before long you had both dozed off and you slept more peacefully than you had in a long while. Since Billy’s death actually, but you couldn't bring yourself to remember that just yet.

After a while, you weren’t sure exactly how long, you were woken up by Billy poking at your forehead and whispering your name. You batted his hand away and glared at him

“What?”

“I need to wee and you’re on me”

You sighed, swung your legs over the side of the small bed and sat up. You stretched and stood. Ben groaned behind you and you turned to find him struggling to sit up as he had before and once again you went to him but this time you helped him up. As he went about his business you decided to head to the nurses station for a stretch and to see if the nurse you’d spoken to before was still here. She was and for that, you were grateful as you had some questions.

You spoke to her about Billy and his injuries and care. She said he seemed to be doing well when she saw him earlier, that his injuries were not too extensive and the surgery for the internal bleeding was as minimally invasive as was possible and that while he would be good to leave the hospital very soon (tomorrow or the day after depending on her next check-in with him) he would need to be released into someone else’s care to keep an eye on his recovery and so on. Then she said,

“I assume that would be you”

“Me?”

“You”

You gulped and took a form she was holding out to you. Taking care of Billy... Living with Billy through his healing process… as much as you’d missed him and as much as your heart ached for him you were so afraid he’d leave again. What if he used your help then bailed? No, not Billy. You told yourself. Yes he left before but he’s not a user and he said he had a good reason for what he did, and because it was Billy, you believed him.

“You’ll both need to sign it agreeing that he is in your care for the hospital to feel good about letting him leave this early but of course we can’t make you guys sign it or technically make him stay”

You nodded “I’ll talk to him” and you started to drift off to his room still staring at the form

“I’ll be in shortly before the end of my shift and again tomorrow morning”

You nodded again even though you were nearly at his door already and it was unlikely she could see such a subtle movement of your head from there.

You stepped back into his room and found him back in bed.

“What’s that?” he asked pointing at the paper in your hand

“A form” you said still lost in thought and drifting toward his bed. When you got close enough he reached out and snatched it from your hands.

“Release form?” He questioned his eyebrows scrunching together “I, the undersigned, agree to be released into the care of..” he stopped reading and looked at you “what is this?”

“They think you’ll be all ready to leave the hospital possibly as soon as tomorrow providing you have someone to keep track of you, which they assume will be me”

“Well, yeah. why wouldn’t it be you?”

You opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words to express everything going on in your head.

Billy set the form down and reach out to you with both hands. You took his hands in yours and he pulled a bit so you tipped onto the bed and he pulled you into a tight hug. “I’ll explain everything, where I was, what happened to me, why I-" he paused "everything. I promise. But not here, not now. I fucked up by not telling you about all this as it happened and I’ve regretted it every day since”

You pulled away from him and grabbed the - now slightly crumpled- form from where he’d placed it on his lap and left the room. Billy watched as you left, confused and scared but then you swept back into the room, with a pen in hand and you signed the form. You handed Billy the form and the pen and said, “I’ve gotta go home, see you tomorrow” and you left again leaving Billy in a bit of a daze.

When you got back to the small place you called home, you got nervous. Billy had been your best, well… everything for so many years, he’d seen you at your worst and your best and he’d seen your home in greater disarray than it was now and yet you were nervous about him seeing your life like this. So you cleaned and tidied until you couldn’t think of anything else to dust or move and when you finally went to bed that night you dreamt of Billy. A mix of fact and fiction intertwined in your brain as you slept fitfully. Happy turned to sad, sad turned to confusing and confusing turned to scary until you awoke with a jolt.

witing tag list: @transeliot @sarah0687

want to be added or removed from my writing tag list? just let me know :)

#kallan writes #ben hardy #6 underground #billy/four x reader #x reader #x you #billy #four #billy/four #multi part fic #hurt/comfort #borhap boys #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #four/billy #multi chapter #ben hardy fic #just someone you used to know

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idreamofplaid · 4 years ago

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All is Calm

Square Filled: Impala for @spngenrebingo & Huddle for Warmth for @spnchristmasbingo

Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam mostly mentioned

Word Count: 2445

Summary: Dean been distracted by hunting lately, but he’s fully focused now. Everything is clear to him.

Created for @spngenrebingo & @spnchristmasbingo

Dean was usually so good about keeping Baby maintained and in top condition. Her oil was always changed hundreds of miles before it needed to be, the air pressure and tread on her tires was checked on practically a weekly basis along with her fluid levels. Some people might say he was obsessive about his car. You’d come to understand she was more than just a car to him, and the way he cared for her was the way he cared for anything and anyone that mattered to him.

It was one of the many admirable qualities about Dean. You had noticed this softer side of his in so many small ways since you’d met him. Along with that softness, he possessed a driven determination. That determination pushed him to keep hunting the next monster, save the next person, do what he could to make the world better. That was why Baby hadn’t been receiving her usual amount of attention lately, too many monsters in the world. That was also the reason the two of you were stuck in the middle of nowhere Montana right now. Baby had a dead battery.

That was bad enough, but it was the week before Christmas, and in Montana that meant full fledged winter. Walking out of here wasn’t an option. The last town you’d passed through was thirty miles back, and new snow was beginning to fall. Even worse, the cell signal out here was so weak Dean had barely gotten to say ten words to Sam before the line went dead. He reassured you that was enough for his tech geek brother to turn on the GPS and find you. You just had to wait it out.

Fortunately, Baby’s trunk contained not only every weapon known to humankind but also sleeping bags and blankets in the compartment beneath those weapons. Dean fetched those and covered the backseat with a sleeping bag, leaving the other covers in a pile for now, then he motioned for you to get inside with a lopsided smile, “We’re going to have to make the best of it until Sam gets here.”

Sam didn’t drive the way Dean did, but he could be fast enough when the situation called for it. Still, it would take hours for him to get here. That was a long time with the temperature dropping the way it was. You tried to sound more sure that the two of you would make it through this okay than you felt. “What are we going to do exactly?” The uncertainty was in your voice in spite of your best efforts, and you knew Dean could hear it based on his reaction. He went into joking and downplaying the situation mode.

“We’re gonna get under those blankets and sing Christmas carols. I have a fabulous voice.” He held the car door open and swept his arm gallantly toward the interior and the back seat. You climbed in and Dean followed, closing the door behind him.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been in Baby’s backseat by any means, but it was the first time you had been here with Dean. You knew it wasn’t the first time Dean had been back here either; the difference was he wasn’t a passenger when he was in the backseat of this car. Better not to think about that right now. You were in danger of freezing to death; you could think about your crush and deal with your jealousy tomorrow after you survived.

Dean reached around you, grabbed the other sleeping bag, and settled it around the two of you; then he did the same with a blanket. His final move was to put his arms around you and draw you in close to him. He rested his chin on top of your head and dropped the bravado. “I’m gonna keep you warm, Y/N. It’ll be okay.”

His body was warm, but as the last of the heat disappeared from the inside of the car, you could feel the cold gathering around the little cocoon Dean had made. You weren’t going to let yourself be scared. You were with Dean, and he would take care of you. You tried to snuggle closer to him, but you were already about as close as you could get. So, you tried to distract yourself. “What about those Christmas songs, Dean?”

He rubbed his hand along your back to create more warmth. “I kinda exaggerated that a little. I can’t sing at all.” You put your head on his shoulder and sighed, only it wasn’t the contented kind; it was much more the “I can make it through this” kind of sigh. Dean tried to redirect your thoughts with a different approach. “I can tell stories though.”

“Really?” You didn’t lift your head from his shoulder and slipped your hand beneath his jacket. Dean took it for what it was, a gesture to keep warm, but it was more than that to you. It comforted you to feel him closer. “Tell me one. Tell me a Christmas story.”

“Well...um...I don’t really have too many Christmas memories, but I’ll tell you what I’d like to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I felt your hand slide across my stomach and come to a stop on my ribs. Under different circumstances, it wouldn’t be long before I’d be kissing you. It’d be the kind of kiss that was hot and previewed what else I was about to do to you. We weren’t in those kind of circumstances. I should have gotten you in the back of this car before now and made out with you the way I couldn’t stop thinking about. I should have done a lot of things, but now here we are. You want to hear a Christmas story, so I’m going to tell you what I should have done about Christmas.

“When we get back to the bunker…” That’s it. Keep the focus on we are going to get out of here. “I’m going to get a tree, and we’re going to find some ornaments. I bet the Men of Letters stashed some somewhere in that place. Or, we’ll buy some. But we’re going to decorate that thing. You, me, and Sam. It’ll be a big one too. You can decide where we put it. Where do you think the tree should go?”

You shifted against me. You still felt warm enough, but I wish there was a way I could keep you warmer. It’s my fault you’re in this mess. How could I be this stupid? I’ve been taking care of this car since I was a kid. This is probably the biggest fuck up of my life, and there’s plenty to choose from. You answer my question, pulling me out of the downward spiral I’m in. “I think it should go in the library, so we see it as soon as we come into the bunker. And we spend the most time there. Maybe we could get another tiny one for the kitchen to look at while we eat?”

You love Christmas trees. Why didn’t I ever know that? You love them, and I haven’t gotten you a single fucking one the whole time you’ve been living with us. “Yeah. Sure we can get a little one too. We’ll make strings of popcorn to put on it like they did in those Christmas movies Sam watched when we were kids.” I realized then it was Sam who’d watched the movies and the reindeer cartoons. Sam had wanted Christmas too, and I’d just blocked the whole thing out. Christmas had probably gone up in flames on the ceiling for me the night my mother died. I regret that now.

What else was in those movies Sam used to watch? “We’ll make hot chocolate too, with whipped cream, and stick a candy cane in it. We can wrap presents together. Maybe you could teach me how to wrap them better so they look pretty good?”

Your hand felt so small on me, and your voice was quiet. “Yes, I’ll teach you how to wrap presents. There should be a lot of presents under the tree. You haven’t had many presents, Dean, and you should have. You deserve presents.” Where did that come from?

“I...I don’t know about that, but you do.” You were beginning to feel colder to my touch. I needed to do something. “Y/N, let’s lie down, sweetheart.” Hopefully, full body contact would make you warmer. I lay you down on the seat and stretched out next to you so the entire length of my body was against you. I made sure a blanket was pulled up behind you to cover the seat of the Impala because it was probably warmer than the leather.

You put your cheek on my neck, seeking out the warmth I had to give you. “You okay, Y/N?” You nodded but didn’t answer out loud. I didn’t like the quiet. It was better to keep you talking. “What do you want for Christmas this year? I’ll make sure Santa knows.”

That made you laugh. “Is Santa real too? Have you been holding out on me?”

Yeah, I’ve been holding out on you, but not about Santa Claus. “I could get a message to him. What do you want?”

You giggled, and it was a beautiful sound. “I want some Christmas pajamas.” I could picture you in something like that. It was cute and sexy. “Will you get some too? And Sam? We could have matching pajamas. Like a family.” Wait a minute. Did you just put me in the brother category? And why was I worried about that now?

“Sure, sweetheart. I’ll tell Santa to get us all Christmas pajamas.” It’s going to take one hell of a bribe to get Sam to go along with this one.

Then you surprised me because you asked, “Dean, what do you want?” I had no idea how to answer that question. The things I wanted couldn’t be put inside a box or under a Christmas tree.

Hell with it. I’m just going to be honest. “I want you and Sam to be happy.” That sounded a little like I was making you a sister which I’m definitely not, so maybe you didn’t brother zone me before.

You kissed my cheek, and it warmed me inside, making me forget how cold it was on the outside for a few seconds. “I want you to be happy too, Dean.”

It wasn’t the right time or place, but I put my finger under your chin, tilted your face up, and kissed you. It was a soft kiss, a kiss to tell you what I was afraid to say, what I’ve always been afraid to say, afraid to even admit until we’re in a situation like this, until I can’t push it away or distract myself with something that doesn’t matter nearly as much. I love you. But I can’t tell you that now because it might sound like some kind of deathbed confession, and I can’t let you think you’re going to die. You’re not; I won’t let you die.

One thing my father did that I am very thankful for at this moment was teach me how to survive. I hope you understand what I’m about to do. In this kind of cold, you need body heat. Direct body heat; our clothes are in the way. They’ve got to go. Your eyes are starting to drift closed, and that can’t happen.

I lift your head up, and you slowly open your eyes. “Hey, Y/N. Stay with me. Okay? Keep your eyes open. Let me see how beautiful they are. Look at me, Y/N.” I put my hands on your cheeks and hold your face steady to keep you focused on me. “I need to get you warmer. My body can do that if I take off my clothes. It’ll be warmer that way. Okay?” You nod at me. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest. I’m scared, but I steady my voice for you. “Then, I’m going to take yours off, so our skin is touching.” You nod again.

“Alright.” I kiss your forehead then take my jacket off, thinking I can put that on top of you later too. I take the rest of my clothes off and get back under the sleeping bag. I notice the snow is falling heavy outside. I hope Sam can find the car when he gets here. I’m careful when I take your clothes off to keep you under the covers.

When everything is gone, it’s just you pressed up close against me. I’ve got to keep you awake, keep you talking. “When we get back home, I’m going to take you on a real date. The least I can do is take you to dinner after you got naked with me.” You smile at my stupid joke. That’s good. “We’ll go to Lawrence. I’ll show you where I grew up. There’s this steakhouse there that I can barely remember, but my dad used to take my mom there. They couldn’t afford a babysitter, so I went along. They had these menus for kids you could draw on, and I always got crayons. I colored everything blue. I remember my mom laughed about that.”

This was too far down memory lane. I was probably boring you. “Do you like steak? We could have seafood instead, or Italian, or something. Anything you want.”

“I like sweet potatoes. Can you get a sweet potato with your steak?” Crap. I don’t know. You couldn’t thirty years ago, but you couldn’t get sweet potatoes anywhere then.

“You want sweet potatoes? We’ll go somewhere where they have sweet potatoes.” I kiss the top of your head again. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. We can go to a real city if you want. Go somewhere really fancy. Dallas maybe. Do you want to see the lights of the big city?”

The only answer I got was, “You’re so warm, Dean. You feel so good.”

I put my hand on the back of your head and held it. “I’m gonna make you say that under different circumstances.” My joke, that wasn’t really a joke, wasn’t working this time.

I wasn’t sure you even heard me, but then you whispered, “Promise?”

“Promise.” A single tear slid down my cheek.

The knock on the window was loud; it made me jump, but you didn’t notice. “Dean! Dean!” I have never been so happy to hear my brother. We’re going home, and you’re going to have those pajamas.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @ledzeppelinsbonzo @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @neveratease @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @maddiepants @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @oldfreakything @winchesterxfamilybusiness @deansotherotherblog

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @sammit-janet @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05

#spngenrebingo #spnchristmasbingo #dean angst #dean fluff #dean x reader #dean in love

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sukiglycerin · 4 years ago

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starless fairy tales || keigo takami, katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x reader x katsuki bakugou (gender neutral!)

* genre: it’s a sandwich: angst on the top, fluff in the middle, and angst at the end :) not fantasy DLKFSF IM SORRY

* words: 5.2k, somehow

* warnings: angsty, reader is wary of hawks at first, tokyo skytree!! so don’t read if you’re terribly afraid of heights, a reference to blood for a small metaphor, a reference to the league of villains ;P, cliffhanger ending that i’m not sure i’ll resolve

* original request from @bien-sur: hey, saw you wanted requests and I read through some of your work, really loved the Hawks one shot!! i’m a sucker for enemies who make out. i’m feeling angsty so uh maybe, if you want, a bakugo one-shot where he kind of uh cheats on the reader...? or maybe just hurts her feelings very badly? maybe the reader feels numb for a while but is comforted by Keigo, and the reader realizes they deserve better? so sorry if this is out of your comfort zone or it’s dark content(?) anyways I like your writing so i’ll read a few more of your works before going to bed :)) thank you, i appreciate u taking the time to do requests regardless of whether you do mine :)

* a/n: ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS SUPERIOR!! i was so excited to write an enemies piece with hawks. this showcases the soft, kind side of hawks so i hope you enjoy it !! thank you sooo much for being so kind in your request! this request is completely fine. i added much more plot than i’d expected, and learned sooo much about tokyo skytree. i couldn’t do infidelity because it hurts me too much and i love bakugou too much. i tried to keep the angst.,., but happy birb..,., this might become a multi-chap fic, as i do have a plot jumbled in my head because of the cliffhanger, and i’d like to develop more aspects of your request! for now, it’s up to your interpretation! biggest thing i got out of this: i now really, really want to go to tokyo skytree.

* synopsis: you had a fairy tale love with bakugou until your prince became the villain for vague reasons. in a moment of serendipity, you find a new prince, hawks, who just might take you high enough to reach the stars you’d so longed for. sometimes your dreams are only a train ride and a couple elevator trips away.

love was like a fairy tale. at least, that’s what you’d believed. love, with its ornate leather cover and soft golden embellishments. the pages would be worn but so cherished; the black ink printed in a pretty font, telling of charming words and whispered promises under the shining moonlight and twinkling stars. it was supposed to be your security, a castle hidden in the lush forest away from the horrors of the world. your castle would hold you and bakugou for an eternity, kept away in the pages of a pretty love story.

alas, even the strongest of castles fall, and the most beautiful of forests mangle. yours just happened to be a bit quicker. contrary to the illusion bakugou had painted in your fairy tale, your castle was not of stone nor brick nor iron. it was not of anything but sand, waiting for its turn to be washed away by the sea. your castle slipped through your fingers; the once elaborate stronghold now swept into the depths of the cerulean sea. what had once been painted seashells of wondrous hues and crystals that illuminated the night were now pebbles and corroded versions of things that had once been. it had slipped through your fingers so easily without a passing thought; now here you were, in your deserted kingdom, playing the fool.

like the sand past your fingers, love had once come easy for you and bakugou. it was always there, drifting in the air as you walked or swirling above your heads while you bickered. love was supposed to be easy, like how your hand just fit in bakugou's as if sculpted after many lives with him. love was supposed to be easy, like how bakugou aced his tests in school and nonchalantly taught you math so you wouldn't have to attend cram school. love was supposed to be easy, like how it had been for forever with bakugou. but your fairy tale was now coming to a close, velvet curtains falling and pages turning to dust.

you wondered if there were any fairy tales on the shelves of books bakugou had. contrary to popular belief at ua, bakugou was an avid reader. it was clear by the shelves that lined the wall in his dorm and the stacks of unread books on his nightstand. you never touched them, though bakugou had said you were free to pick them up whenever you wanted. the only time you’d touched a book from his bookshelf was when he pushed a book of yosano akiko’s to you.

the colored spines of the books on his shelf in your shared apartment all blurred like paint on a palette as you stared at them, bakugou’s voice becoming a fading afterthought.

“y/n? y/n, please…” the voice which had so held you in its tight warmth went cold and unfamiliar. a light flickered out in your castle, and so started the crumbling.

“say…” you started, your throat clogged with disbelief, “it again.”

“please, don’t make me…” his voice trailed off. you could feel his deep scarlet eyes trained on you. “i just…. i’m not in love with you anymore, y/n.” his voice cracked. “you’ve got to understand. please.”

your hand trembled in your lap, your vision shifting out of focus like a faulty camera.

“i tried to feel something, i really did. but…. i can’t.”

“how- how long?” your voice shook.

he paused. “a month… or two, by now?” he reached out to take your hand in his, but it no longer felt right. it was as if his hand was no longer yours to hold. you tensed, moving your hand away.

a light went out in his eyes as he understood and receded his hand. a tower fell in your castle.

“okay,” you said, turning away from him. tears dripped down your face silently and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve. you stood up from the couch. “i’ll get my things,” you hollowly said, walking toward your shared room with him.

“you don’t need to,” bakugou said. the voice emitted from his throat was no longer his, but the shadow of a stranger’s. “not this fast, at least. don’t force yourself.”

“what makes you say that?” you snapped a bit too harshly. “sorry,” you added quietly.

packing your things was a numbing process. you left the photos of him and you on his nightstand, on top of his pile of unread books. you shoved it all in a backpack you had lying around; your clothes, your phone, your books. you took one last glance around the room and left. bakugou was still sitting on the couch wordlessly, not bothering to say farewell to you as you opened the door and walked out. not that you would’ve responded anyway.

you realized you may have made a miscalculation as you stood cluelessly in the lobby of the apartment building. you had nowhere to go. you fumbled with your phone in your backpack and pulled up your contacts. you knew of no one in your contacts who’d let you stay; they were either on vacation or far away. in truth, bakugou was your closest friend since childhood. he was your map, your guide, your destination; where were you without him?

the wind brushed your cheek as you stood outside the entrance, watching cars pass. the world felt so big compared to the mere side character of you, who buildings loomed over like menacing shadows. it was a somewhat comforting moment, being an alone speck in the grand scheme of things. like this, it was for only a moment you’d forgotten why you were out here in the first place. you’d forgotten the warm feeling that once nestled itself in your heart, instead enraptured by the freeing breeze that rustled in it.

red. then a breeze. that’s all you saw, eyes widening and stepping back. a man no older than you stood in front of you, hands in his pockets. vermillion wings protruded from somewhere on his back, arcing slightly over the man.

“heyyy….” he said lazily, shadows falling on his face. you started walking backward, hands discreetly feeling for the door behind you. “wait! i’m a pro-hero, i swear! i’m hawks, look it up!” he lifted his hands up in surrender, backing away from you.

“who…. what do you want?” you asked cautiously, hand on the doorknob behind you.

he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. “i, uh…. got lost…. tokyo’s such a big place, y’know?”

“where are you from?” you couldn’t really discern anything of an accent on him, other than a slightly rougher tone of speaking.

“kyushu, fukuoka…” he gestured vaguely. that explained the slight accent. “i’m in tokyo for a bit of work. business trip, y’know how it goes. haven’t visited tokyo in a while, honestly. what’s a good place for a bite? a bird is starving.”

“uh… there’s a place down the street to the right…” off the top of your head, you pointed out a cafe you and bakugou had frequented.

“it doesn’t have chicken wings, does it?” hawks asked.

“chicken…?” you looked from him to his wings. “no, sorry.”

“don’t sweat it! ‘s fine. hey, i might as well treat you for wasting your time. where’re you heading off to? i could pay for a cab, if you gotta go.”

“ah, thank you....” you said bashfully. “i’m not really in a rush anywhere.”

“really?” he looked excited, innocently so, almost like a puppy. “can i treat you to something?”

“uh… sure,” you replied, strengthening your grip on your backpack. “sure.”

“great! off we go, m’liege!” he pointed toward the cafe and started marching. he was a sight to behold on the street, red wings standing out a mile away. you followed somewhat reluctantly, grabbing your phone to google exactly who the pro-hero “hawks” was. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but you weren’t one who knew their heroes. yeah, it was definitely him; what was your luck, meeting such a famous pro-hero on the street after being dumped by the love of your life?

he hummed a tuneless melody, turning to the cafe. he held the doorknob waiting for you, opening the door for you first. the homey cafe was decently packed for lunchtime, the quiet chatter of people filling the atmosphere. the scene reminded you of so many other times you'd gone here with bakugou; it gave you chills as you stood next to hawks.

"hey," hawks said quietly. "you okay? you seem tense."

you gulped and shook your head. "nah, i'm fine. just thinking about what to eat," you lied.

he nodded, seeming to buy into the lie. stepping toward the menu, he said, "the toasted sandwiches look good."

"uh huh," you agreed absentmindedly. your attention was on the bout of people who'd turned to look at hawks, some snapping pictures on their phones. he did stand out pretty well with his wings.

"'scuse me-!" a little girl, no more than 6 or 7, approached the hero. she had a distinctive accent; it was slightly hard to understand her. "can i 'ave a photo with ya?" her eyes got all round. "yer my big brother's favorite hero!"

"'course, darlin'," hawks smiled. his voice somewhat mimicked hers, his dialect becoming apparent.

once he'd taken a photo with her, more and more people started following suit, crowding him. you stood awkwardly to the side. some people didn't even know who he was, from what you could tell. you debated ordering a latte and leaving, but decided it'd be unfair to hawks. he was kind to everyone he interacted with, unlike most celebrities who just wanted fame and disregarded others.

after some time, the crowd finally dispersed, leaving you and hawks together.

he glanced at his watch. “ah, sorry, that took a while…” he apologized. “do you have somewhere to be? i must’ve held you up…”

“nah, don’t worry about it.” you waved him off. “i, uh, actually… was just dumped by my boyfriend…” you nervously shuffled your feet. “i don’t really have a place to stay at the moment… so i’m free the entire day, i guess.” you laughed nervously.

he blinked at you, bird-like eyes wide. “you must be starving.”

you felt your face warm and you laughed - this time, a real, genuine laugh that was a missed sensation against your tongue. “yeah. yeah, i am.”

“hey, dove.” his voice suddenly got close to you, gentler. “you’re crying.”

“oh…?” you felt your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “sorry. i have tissues in my backpack, hang on…” you unzipped the front pocket and started to rummage blindly through your belongings, groping for something vaguely feeling like a packet of tissues.

“here,” he said, handing you a tissue. you turned to him gratefully, accepting the tissue and wiping your face.

“it’s just… weird,” you said after a pause. “he’s been there all my life - my ex, i mean.” ex. such a strange name for the man you so adored; ex, crossing off the relationship you thought you’d built with him.

hawks nodded, guiding you to a booth in the cafe.

you continued, “sorry. you probably didn’t want to hear this today… you’re busy with your hero duties and whatnot.”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, feather,” he reassured you. “he didn’t kick you out, did he?”

“oh, no,” you clarified quickly. “i… left,” you said, abashed. “i shouldn’t’ve been so sudden, but… it was an instinct thing.”

“why’d he do it so suddenly?” hawks asked. “you didn’t see it coming, right?”

“no, i didn’t… but maybe i should’ve…” you think about the part couple months with bakugou. nothing seemed different - you’d gone on dates like normal and spent time together like a couple that loved each other. his interest in you never faltered and nor did the sparkle in his eyes dull; what had happened? what had gone so wrong?

you realize the silence that’s fallen between you and hawks. the hero was looking at the menu behind you intently.

“ham and cheese…” he muttered to himself. “no, teriyaki… so yummy… with coffee…” he suddenly seemed aware of your eyes staring at him. “oh, what did you want to eat?”

“i’ll probably have the teriyaki,” you said. it was your go-to sandwich choice at the cafe. you reached for your backpack to retrieve your wallet, but hawks stopped you.

“let me,” he said. “i already caused you so much inconvenience.”

“ah, okay…” you said meekly. “thank you.”

he shrugged. “what wouldja like to drink?”

“uh… orange juice,” you said.

“alright!” he saluted you. “your wish is my command.” he got up to order, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. the cashier was particularly animated talking to him, initiating a conversation about aerodynamics with the pro-hero from what you could hear.

he returned with the sandwiches (made at the fastest time you swore you’d seen them prepare food) and set yours in front of you.

“let’s dig in!” hawks said, biting into his sandwich. you agreed, taking a bite of yours as well.

“what’s your name, by the way?” he said in between bites. “i don’t think i ever asked.”

“y/n,” you said.

“pretty,” he commented. “i’m hawks.”

“i know,” you blurted. “i googled it.”

“you did?” his pupils widened. “what’d it say??”

“uhh…” you pulled out your phone, finding the tab you used to google hawks. you turned your screen to him.

he studied the screen. “not fond of that angle,” he mused to himself. “so, why’d your boyfriend dump you?”

you were taken aback by his candor. “he… said he didn’t love me anymore,” you admitted.

“all of a sudden? out of the blue?”

you shook your head. “he said he’d tried to endure it for a while.”

“how long?”

“a month or two,” you sighed, thinking about the sight of him sitting dejectedly on the couch this morning.

“he didn’t say anything before that?” hawks gasped. “the nerve. how long have you been together?”

“four… or five years now?” you’d been dating him since your days at ua, even when most high school romances - between childhood friends, no less - were especially rocky. he was your promised forever.

“and he gives up after two months?” hawks set his sandwich down. “wow. some boyfriend.”

“i think there was something more to it,” you said thoughtfully. “we’ve known each other for a long…”

“you still love him, don’t you?”

“i mean… yeah….” you hadn’t given it much thought; bakugou was a habit your heart couldn’t stop thinking about. it was like depriving your heart of oxygen: foreign and wrong. “i do.”

“i’m sorry, dove,” he said.

“your sandwich will get cold,” you said in an attempt to divert the conversation topic.

“you’re right.” he picked up his sandwich and started eating again, eyes still on you. “this place has good food.”

you hummed in agreement, distracted by the cars going by outside the window.

“where will you stay?” he asked, halfway done with his sandwich.

hawks voiced the concern plaguing your subconscious from the moment you stepped out of bakugou’s apartment building. it was definitely not the most thoroughly well-thought out plan, and you didn’t want to come back knocking on his door in the night. besides, you weren’t sure if you could stand being there again, in the presence of a liar and someone who felt so foreign to you. you wondered how much you truly didn’t know about bakugou; were there any other lies he’d blossomed behind your back?

you knew you might be able to stay at a hotel for a couple nights, but not for long. going back to bakugou’s place… as much as you so dreaded the mere thought, you knew it might be your absolute last resort.

“i’m not sure,” you finally replied truthfully. hawks appeared to have come to a conclusion of sorts.

“tell ya what,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “explore tokyo with me.” he took a bite of his sandwich. continuing, he said, “‘s not often the commission puts me in the big city. i’m off today, so…”

the offer was somewhat bizarre, but what did you have to lose? you agreed, under the terms you wouldn’t be out too late. as you walked out the door, you greeted the cool outside breeze with the hope this would help you put the past behind you.

walking through tokyo with a pro-hero proved harder than it sounded. for one, people kept approaching hawks; after all, he was like a walking light-up sign that said “LOOK AT ME!” with the size and color of his wings. after every time a fan asked hawks for an autograph, he sheepishly apologized to you, and offered two autographs to you. you always laughed and declined; the trip was a reward in itself, you supposed. each acquaintance made you appreciate all the responsibilities of a pro-hero. he was charming, though. he really was, so you didn’t mind.

“skytree! let’s go there!” was the first thing hawks had said walking out of the cafe. you’d been to the skytree a couple of times in your childhood, and it was a nice memory; the tall building stretching, touching the tip of the sky. your parents had told you that stardust flecked the very top of the skytree, for it was so tall. you’d never actually reached the highest floor; it felt like a distant fantasy, as you’d always get tired before reaching the top or circumstance would interfere.

it was a five minute walk to the nearest station, and it’d be another forty or so to skytree. hawks didn’t seem to mind, though, happily promenading down the street like a kid in a candy shop. he pointed excitedly to random buildings that you hadn’t given a second thought about and rambled about the facts he knew about skytree with an accent tingeing his words more than usual. he reminded you very much so of a child going on a field trip, and his giddiness only boosted yours.

“we’re here!” his eyes glistened with anticipation when you reached the station. you’d visited the station dozens of times, but looked at it with a new light when you realized how excited hawks was. “i’ll pay; i dragged you here,” he said immediately when you started to pay for tickets.

“really, i can’t-” you started, but he cut you off.

“let me. it’s my off day! please.” he took the two tickets he paid for. “here.”

“i don’t really have a choice, do i?”

“nope!” he was already walking away, smiling back at you and waving his ticket.

“hey- wait!” you started running after him. “wrong way!”

forty minutes later, two transfers, and one circle around the station in pursuit of skytree, you stood at the entrance of the tokyo skytree. hawks’ mouth watered at the sight of the line of restaurants in the breezeway you’d passed prior, and you had to stop him from ordering the seasonal special from mcdonald’s before turning to skytree.

“but you just ate!” you exclaimed as he stared longingly at the ice cream being advertised on a poster.

he pouted. “but i’m hungry…”

you took his hand (which momentarily shocked him) and guided him to the entrance. it was a bit crowded, but not overtly so. hawks was looking everywhere once you’d entered; darting from here to there, sometimes carrying small souvenirs or drinks when returning to you. you were out of energy by the time you’d reached floor 340, though hawks told you there were only 29 floors total and the name was referencing the height. it certainly didn’t feel like an exaggeration, your feet dragging on the ground as you stepped out of the oddly fast elevator.

you begged hawks to let you rest at the cafe you saw. the cafe felt like a little oasis of tranquility, uncrowded on contrary to the other floors. it was relaxing as you stared outside the window and up at the sky. it brought you to your parents words of stars and magic, though something as modern as the skytree must be strange to intermingle with magic. in the moment you were suspended; the still sky surrounding you and the ever-moving cars below. you swore you could just reach the clouds in front of you and float, so serenely in an eternal bubble of quietude to yourself. everything else was forgotten in that moment; things were the way they always were. it was always you, in the end.

after leaving the cafe, you watched people stand on glass flooring overlooking everything below. some jumped on the glass, while some frightenedly stuck a foot on the glass and jumped back.

“quite the view, huh?” hawks mumbled with a mouth stuffed full with chocolate cake. “i usually have to fly so far to get this view.”

you nodded. “it’s amazing...”

“so… where d’you wanna go after this?” he asked you.

“actually…” your thoughts went back to the stories your parents told you. “can we go up to floor 455?”

he showed a hint of surprise on his face. “really? i know we bought the tickets to do it, but if you’re tired, we can just go down.”

“no…” you cleared your throat. “it’s been something i really wanted to do.”

he took this answer and smiled, grasping your hand. “let’s walk into the sky!”

the train ride back did not go as smoothly as you hoped. the adrenaline of being 450 meters in the air had worn itself out, and the pitting realization that bakugou was no longer yours dawned on you. the sapphire sky in your fairy tale story seemed so far now, stars shattering and crumbling. you reached for a piece of a star, but each piece dissolved above your head, light that would never reach you.

“feather,” hawks said quietly. the intense look in his eyes looked like he was building up to something important.

“yeah?” you asked. you fixated on him.

“do you want… a badtz-maru eraser?”

you stared at the spiky-haired penguin in the palm of hawks’ hand.

“sure…?” you said. hawks happily plopped the eraser into your hand.

“feather,” he said again in the same tone. “you should visit bakugou, you know. tonight, to make things straight with him.”

that was what he was building up to. bakugou. you hadn’t dwelled much on the thought of the man; the skytree filling most of your thoughts for the day. but it was still light out.

“i know,” you replied softly, looking down at your fingers. these were the hands that held your heart as you gave it to bakugou, the hands that bakugou held tenderly for so many days and nights. they were the same hands that held your heart now, returned by bakugou shattered and clinking to the ground. the rest of the train ride was silent.

you could now hear your thoughts echoing around the train compartment, deflecting off walls and still making their way to your heart. you wondered what words were left unsaid by bakugou, painful truths untold hidden in the recesses of his heart. you wondered if he remembered how he’d first nervously asked you on a date in high school, words rough but fingers softly fidgeting with each other. it was in may, near the end of the day. he shoved a small box of chocolates towards you, muttering something about “weird hair” making him do it. he’d aggressively stuttered his way through a confession, barely making eye contact with you. the memory brought a fluttering to your heart, but with it came a sore pain for the first time. you wondered if he felt the same or if he was just numb, like how he now felt about you. what did it feel like to fall out of love?

you wondered if he remembered the many times he’d walked you home (only for your sake, of course, not anything else). you wondered if he remembered how fondly he looked at you then. his heart was on his sleeve during those times, the perpetual blush on his cheeks disclosing his very vulnerable feelings towards you.

even on the most draining of days, bakugou would always be there for you. even if his eyelids were closing upon their own accord and legs were sore from a day’s work, he made it a point to be there for you. while children might’ve had their security blankets, you had bakugou. your heart dropped realizing those days of coming home to bakugou were gone.

what had happened? now, you were alone on a train that felt so cold and without the love that had so warmed your heart. why had things ended up like this? why did you numb bakugou’s feelings so? the wave was slow at first, but once it had reached the shore, your tears fell hot and unyielding as you toppled off the edge of being okay.

hawks was by your side wordlessly, a wing around you and leaning you close to him. the feathers were soft. you cried unabashedly in his embrace, sniffling as he soothed you. you tried to say thank you, but all that came out was another sob.

your feet, on instinct, took you to bakugou's apartment without any problem. it could’ve been any other day; you, coming back to the apartment after running errands. it was your hand that hesitated as it hovered an inch away from the wood of the door, the only sign that something had changed. you liked to pretend it hadn’t. you wished that when you’d open the door, you’d hear a light chatter from the tv and a familiar voice saying, “welcome home, idiot.” you wished that the air that enveloped you as soon as you opened the door was that of liveliness and comfort, of warm orange and yellow hues. you wished that the atmosphere didn’t feel so dead, dull, and musty; you wish it hadn’t drowned in shades of blue and gray. you wished you didn’t have the key to the apartment still.

you wished that bakugou would say something, anything, rather than sit on the couch with his head bowed. you wished that you didn’t miss him so much and that you had him, all at the same time. you wished you turned back as soon as you heard the knob click and pushed open the door; you wished not to see all that you had in what was once your apartment.

you wished you didn’t revel in his presence next to you on the couch. you wished you didn’t almost lean into his touch because he was your home, and you wished your eyes didn’t well up the way they had. you wished to have sat in that silence for a while then up and gone; you wished he hadn’t said anything at all.

“hey, idiot,” was a cracky and raspy thing coming out of his mouth, words familiar but so foreign at the same time.

“hey,” was what you whispered back, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“where’d you go?” but it wasn’t a question, just a fragile plea devoid of hope.

“skytree,” and you felt you’d break the mood.

“did you reach the top?” his response surprised and killed you at the same time.

“yeah,” you said quietly. “i did.”

“alone?”

“i could never alone.”

“who…?”

“met a pro-hero by chance.”

“your true hero, huh?” it was a bitter tone, venom biting you.

“no,” and your heart sunk because it was the truth.

he scoffed. getting up from the couch, he said, “you forgot something.”

your eyes followed him as he disappeared into your once shared room. he returned quite fast, as if you’d left it on the dresser, carrying a decorated shoebox. you’d almost forgotten about it entirely, eyes wide as nostalgia hit you.

it was a memory box you’d made the last year of high school. it was supposed to be for school memories, but it really just became a box of mementos of bakugou. you could barely see the contents inside, too busy trying to hold back the tears in your eyes. you thumbed through photos and polaroids of you and him, some with his friends and some with yours. oh, what you’d give to have those times back. though it was all blurred, you could feel the moments so vividly: feel the cool summer breeze and hear the sound of people conversing with each other at a festival; hear mina’s excited ramblings and bakugou’s grumbling at the supermarket; smell caramel and vanilla at a movie night, pressed against bakugou’s body warmth. you dropped the photos back into the box and picked up a scorched pencil. a pressed rose. a neatly folded sheet of notes you’d sent back and forth with bakugou during class.

and then it was all gone, shutting the box.

“keep it.” you regretted the words as soon as they left your lips, but you wouldn’t take them back. you handed him the box, staring at the floor and wiping your wet eyes. the memories were no longer yours to keep.

bakugou was silent, taking the box and leaving to his room to put it away.

“is that all?” you tried to make your voice sound strong, impatient. like you had better places to be without him. you hoped he couldn’t tell how it was more of a beg to stay.

“yeah.” cold. emotionless.

you stood for another second, looking around. everything seemed different, as if the glass which surrounded your universe had shattered. “bye, katsuki.”

“bye.”

your footsteps were light, but each step felt weighed by metal weights. you wished he stopped you from leaving. you wished you looked back at him. you wished you weren’t crying.

you shut the door quietly, weakly, behind you. it all came out in the hallway, tears and desperate sobs. you prayed he couldn’t hear you; but you knew, even if he did, he wouldn’t care anymore. he was numbed, no longer the firework you’d known.

“hawks,” it came as a quiet plea as you felt for your phone and dialed his number. he gave it to you right before you walked into bakugou’s apartment.

“please pick up, please pick up,” you muttered, trying to wipe the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they came.

“hey, birdie? are you okay?”

“hawks,” you sobbed. “hawks, no, i’m not.”

“hey, are you still at the apartment building? i’ll be right there, chickadee, alright?”

you nodded, sniffed, then said meekly, “yeah.”

“stay on the line. talk to me, birdie.” his voice was soothing.

“hawks, it hurts, everything.” you felt as though you were pouring out your heart, spilling scarlet on the carpet. “hawks.” tears dropped onto the carpet. “hawks.” your knees almost gave in.

“what floor are you on, dove?”

“third,” you hiccupped.

“i’m right there, feather.” you saw hawks emerge from the stairwell. his hair looked windblown. he looked relieved to see you at first, then his face fell to that of sympathy. “oh, birdie,” he said softly, running up to you. “i’m here now.’

you weren’t aware bakugou was listening to you cry on the other side of the door as you sobbed into someone else’s shoulder, not his. with dark eyes and trembling hands he couldn’t calm, he dialed a number on his phone.

“well, tomura? i did it.”

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou angst #bnha angst #hawks fluff #bnha fluff #hawks imagines #hawks scenarios #keigo takami fluff #keigo takami imagines #keigo takami scenarios #katsuki bakugou #keigo takami #luna's writing

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holidaywishes · 4 years ago

Text

Ravage Me

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: Ahh you’re the best! So basically I was thinking a super angsty fic where the reader is friends with Auston, like around his age, has tattoos, dresses on the edgier side, and Freddie has a massive crush on her but doesn’t think he can compete with Auston because he’s not as interesting?? I adore you 💕

Warning: angst as requested, little bit of fluff, language (but that’s par for the course -- I have a tiny bit of a sailor’s mouth), maybe a hint of smut near the end?

Author’s Note: I love this request so much. It’s not super angsty but I hope it’s angsty enough for ya! I’m sorry that I’m just getting to it now, I had planned on doing it last week but just couldn’t, anyway, I’m writing it now and I think I like the way it came out. I tried to make this character the cool alter ego I wish I had -- instead my alter ego is a Southern Belle named Daisy. I had fun writing this and I hope you enjoy it! Stay Golden, loves! <3

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Freddie’s P.O.V

The first time you met her, you were a bit taken aback by her boldness. For only being 23, she was incredibly sure of herself and she was one of the only people you knew that knew who they were; it didn’t take long for you to fall for her.

“So, Fred!” Auston yelled over the loud music in the bar as (Y/N) hung off his shoulder, “what do you want to drink?” You looked between the two of them and scoffed before heading to the bar yourself to get a beer, “or you know.. do that.”

“Can I get anything for either of you?” you asked, looking back to your friend and the girl you were falling for

“I’ll grab a beer” Auston laughed as (Y/N) walked toward you

“Get him the worst beer they have,” she joked, “I’ll just have a tequila soda.” You smiled at her response, ordering the drinks and following behind the two as they found a table to sit at. (Y/N) and Auston sat across from you, laughing about something that you weren’t in on and you just sat there drinking your beer trying not to look too awkward. When she got up, you found your eyes wandering across her body, finding new tattoos hidden beneath her ripped and tattered clothing.

“Dude,” Auston said, bringing your attention back to him, “stop staring!”

“Sorry,” you replied, shaking your head, “how many tattoos does she have?”

“She’s going on like 11 or 12?” he smiled, “I keep telling her she should just get a sleeve but she likes having them in ‘secret spots’ she says”

“I wouldn’t exactly call her wrist or her neck a ‘secret spot’” you smirked

“That’s only two, Fred,” he chirped, “think about where the other places could be...” Before you could respond, (Y/N) sat down and, as if it were planned, Auston stood up, leaving you alone with his friend. She shifted in her seat, her long hair cascading over her shoulder, forcing your eyes to wander to examine her outfit; her faded plaid shirt had small tears in it lending the perfect peekaboo for the black lace underneath while her shorts only covered half of her thigh, exposing a sun and moon tattoo. You realized neither of you had spoken when she changed seats to sit in front of you before taking off her unbuttoned plaid shirt and tying it around her waist

“So Fred...” she started, forcing you to look up at her and smile awkwardly, “why are you friends with Auston?”

“What do you mean?” you scoffed

“I don’t know,” she chuckled, “you guys are just so... I think it’s the age difference for me”

“Because he’s younger?”

“Yeah” she laughed

“He’s a good kid, he needs a little guidance,” you joked, “and I guess I need to get out of my comfort zone a little”

“Oh yeah?” she smiled and you felt your face flood with heat, “how exactly has he helped you do that?”

“You two talkin’ about me?” Auston asked as he sat back down, his hand creeping around (Y/N)’s waist, pulling her close to him

“Don’t be so vain” she joked

“We were just talking about (Y/N)’s tattoos” you countered

“Is that right?” Auston smirked

“Yeah...” you hesitated, trying to figure out what to say

“Yeah, he was just asking me about the sun and moon on my thigh,” she replied, “what it meant...” You were surprised that she was going along with your fib but you weren’t complaining

“She was just about to tell me when you interrupted us”

“Well then... don’t let me stop you” he said, taking a sip of the beer he’d left on the table and gesturing to (Y/N)

“It’s for me and my brother. My parents used to always say we were like night and day but that we complimented each other,” she answered, “he was this bright ball of energy that seemed to light up every room and I was... a little on the darker side. He was really important to me, so, when he passed away last year, I wanted to have something to remind me of him...”

“I’m so sorry,” you sighed, “I didn’t mean to ma--”

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled, “it’s okay. I’m okay. It’s good for me to talk about him.”

“Why don’t you tell him about this tattoo on your spine” Auston interjected, tracing his finger down her back

“and miles to go before I sleep...” she said softly, “it’s from a Robert Frost poem. I wouldn’t say it’s my favourite poem but this line, the last line, always kind of stuck with me. Like, there’s so much life to live before we all ‘sleep.’“ She smiled as she air quoted the word sleep

“What about this one on your arm?” you asked as you pointed to the back of her bicep, near her elbow

“It’s a lotus flower,” she smirked, “it was my first one actually. I thought I was being so original but then I saw literally everyone getting a lotus flower tattoo and suddenly, I just felt... Do you have any tattoos Freddie?” she suddenly asked

“Me?” you questioned, “no, none”

“Yeah, tattoos aren’t really Big Red’s thing”

“I’m sure they could be..” (Y/N) said, “if he tried. We should take him to get one, just a small one. Like.. a piece of LEGO or something.” You chuckled at her suggestion, preparing yourself to say something, “I can always use another tattoo...”

“I don’t know..” you faltered

“I can hold your hand if you’re scared” she teased

“Oh yeah, definitely. We’ll both hold your hand” Auston added before rolling his eyes and you scoffed

“I’ll think about it” you joked just as (Y/N) stood up

“I love this song,” she yelled, “let’s go dance!” You and Auston looked at each other before she eventually dragged you both out to the dance floor with her, standing in between the two of you as the music compelled her hips to sway. As Auston wrapped his hands around her waist, (Y/N) brought her hands up to your shoulders to pull you close to her; you felt your breath stop in your chest as her eyes met yours and the music continued to pump through your body. Before long, you noticed Auston move his lips closer to (Y/N)’s neck and you couldn’t handle it anymore

“I.. I have to go...” you stammered before taking off

“Freddie!” (Y/N) called out

“FRED!” Auston shouted but you just continued walking, tearing your coat off the back of the chair where you sat until Auston finally met up with you, “What’s going on?” he asked

“I can’t... this isn’t what..” you growled as you tried to find the words to say that you didn’t want to watch the two of them make out with each other all night, “I need to go”

“Why?” he asked again

“Because of you, that’s why!” you finally blurted out, forcing your way through the crowd to dart out of the bar

“What are you talking about? What did I do?!” he exclaimed, forcing a scoff from you

“You know that I...” you tried, unconsciously gesturing to the girl inside, “and you are just...”

“Freddie, nothing is happening. We were dancing,” he sighed, “I was trying to be your wing man!”

“That was you trying to be a wing man?” you huffed

“I don’t get what your problem is. You could’ve made a move, you didn’t. She’s not going to wait around all night for you to inch closer to her”

“So what?!” you yelled, “you decided you would? Because you’ve had her before and you wanted her again?”

“What?” he sneered and you noticed (Y/N) rush out of the door, finding the two of you fighting on the sidewalk and as much as you didn’t want to say it, you needed to, at the very least, see Auston’s reaction

“How would you know where all her ‘secret spots’ are? Where all her tattoos are if you haven’t been with her already?” His look told you everything you needed to but when you looked back at (Y/N), you felt a little ashamed of yourself for acting the way you were

“Freddie...” Auston said quietly

“It’s... whatever,” you sighed, “I’ll talk to you later.” You called for a cab but before you could close the door, she snuck in.

The look on Freddie’s face nearly broke your heart but you weren’t sure why he was so upset. He had spent time with you before, you knew him, you liked each other but he had never really had a conversation with you. You couldn’t deny that when you saw him that night, you kept imagining his hands on you, but this... was not what you were expecting to come from the night.

“SO WHAT?!” Freddie yelled at Auston outside of the bar and you furrowed your brow at the interaction, “you decided you would? Because you’ve had her before and you wanted her again?”

“What?” Auston replied and you took one step forward to hear Freddie’s response, expecting it to be a whisper

“How would you know where all her ‘secret spots’ are?” Freddie asked and you blushed at the implication, “where all her tattoos are if you haven’t been with her already?” You caught Freddie’s stare for a second before your gaze dropped to the concrete, hearing Auston try to ease the tension but Freddie wasn’t having it. When you heard the cab pull up, you knew you had to jump in so that at least one of you could help the situation, “(Y/N).. what are you doing?” he asked and you sat beside him in silence while the driver waited for an address

“I don’t know what happened...” you started quietly, “but I didn’t want you to storm off upset”

“I’m fine” he snapped

“Clearly, you’re not” you replied

“I’m fine” he repeated

“You’re upset...” you sighed, “I don’t want you to be upset”

“Why does it matter?” he asked

“What?” you replied as the car came to a stop and you quickly followed Freddie out of the cab to his door

“Why does it matter if I’m upset or not?” he asked again as he called the elevator and the two of you waited

“Because,” you returned, turning your body toward him, “despite what you might think, I care about you.” Just then, the telltale ding of the elevator rang and you two stepped in. You waited for him to say something but when he didn’t, you bit your lip and thought about what he said to Auston back at the bar, ‘if you haven’t been with her before?’ There was almost disdain on the words, causing your forehead to crease as you thought about them, “do you really think so little of me?”

“What?” he replied, turning his head to you and furrowing his brow

“That I would just sleep with Auston?” you questioned

“He just... kept talking about your tattoos..” he stammered

“Sure,” you countered, “he was with me when I got most of them.”

“Well...” he hesitated again, “you two were hanging all over each other...”

“We were dancing,” you argued, “all of us!”

“So you’ve never slept with him?” he asked

“No” you answered as the elevator door opened. You followed Freddie to his door, still not sure what he was feeling

“You can go home. I’m fine”

“I don’t get why you’re so upset over this?”

“It doesn’t matter”

“It does. I wanna know!” you shouted

“He clearly wants to fuck you” he bit

“Fuck you!” you snapped back

“AM I WRONG?”

“YES!”

“OH COME ON”

“YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” he shouted before you noticed that the two of you had become so close that your chests rose and fell in sync

“Why do you care so much?” you said quietly, “if it doesn’t matter what are you so... bent out of shape?” His eyes moved slowly across your face before landing on your mouth, leading your eyes to do the same

“I’m... not like him” he whispered

“What do you mean?“ you replied

“I like you, (Y/N),” he admitted, gently placing his hands on your hips, “but I’m not like Auston...”

“What? American?” you scoffed, “a bit of a narcissist? An overly competitive self-assured mama’s boy? Good.”

“No... I’m not 23, I don’t have tattoos, I d--”

“Good.” You repeated simply, “Why would you want to be him?”

“Because he’s a better fit for you” he sighed, walking to his couch and slumping down, dropping his head to his hands and you were left standing in the middle of the room, flustered and confused.

“I’ve known Auston for... so much of my life,” you replied, “you think he’s a better fit for me because we’re the same age and we both have tattoos? I don’t want someone who’s a different version of me...”

“Even if it makes sense?” he grumbled, earning a head shake from you before your feet decided to move toward him until you were standing in front of him, waiting for him to look up at you from where he sat, “what are you doing?” he asked, his elbows resting on his knees as a smirk crept across your lips.

“Not everything needs to make sense...” you replied, “not if it feels right.”

“What do you mean?” he stammered, seeming almost afraid of you all of a sudden

“I’ve seen you looking at me,” you smiled, moving his arms down so you could straddle his lap, “staring at my tattoos, my hair, my clothes...”

“I..I--”

“I don’t mind,” you interrupted, moving your hands around his shoulders, “I like when you look at me.”

“You do?” he countered and you nodded, beginning to move your hands down his body before moving your lips close to his

“I know that I have to look my best when you’re around...” you whispered, lips caressing his without touching them, “I want to look good for you”

“You always look good,” he hummed as his hands found your waist and his eyes trained themselves on your chest. “God I want you...” he growled, digging his nails into your skin before looking up at you, only to find you smiling down at him

“So take me...” you breathed, pushing your chest against his as your fingers hooked onto the loose fabric of his shirt when he stopped you, pushing you off so he could stand up, “Freddie, what the hell?!” You whined

“You only want me because you can’t have him!”

“Are you fucking kidding me with this?!” You shouted, marching to where the tall, Danish goaltender stood, “if I wanted him, I’d have him. If I wanted to be with him, I wouldn’t be here with you. But I don’t, I’m not. When I know what I want, I’m pretty damn good at getting it. I want you, Freddie. And I know you want me too.” You let your angry breaths fill the space as Freddie stared at you hesitantly; if he wasn’t going to do anything, you weren’t going to waste your time. You turned and began walking to the door, intent on storming out and never speaking to Freddie again, when he grabbed your arm, stopping you from leaving. He waited until you looked at him, so you could see the intensity of his stare, before he pulled you into him, fumbling into a nearby wall, kissing your lips harshly before he moved down to your neck and further to your chest. Standing back up to kiss you softly before removing your shirt, letting his hands glide back to your bare skin once the fabric had disappeared

“Are you sure?” He asked, leaning his forehead against yours as your arms circled his neck

“I’m yours, baby.” You smirked, kissing him quickly before jumping up and wrapping your legs around his hips, “take me, kiss me, ravage me...” you giggled at your own words and Freddie smiled in response, quickly carrying you over to the couch, only so he could set you down and tear of the remainder of your clothes. As he picked you up once more and his lips discovered new spots on your neck that garnered sounds you’d never heard yourself make, you dug your nails into his back, scratching a trail down his sides.

“You’re not as intimidating as I thought you were” he chirped, throwing you onto his king sized bed and you were forced to smile before shrugging in response

“And you’re not as safe as you seem.” You returned before biting your fingertip, waiting for him to remove his clothes

“Let me show you what I can do...” You raised your eyebrows at his words, knowing that you were in for a long, glorious night.

#Freddie Andersen #Frederik Andersen #Frederik Andersen fic #Frederik Andersen imagine #Freddie Andersen fic #Freddie Andersen imagine #masterlist #the other masterlist #nhl #hockey #tml

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 4 years ago

Note

wait a minute. So I've read your bits on civil war 2008, and I have a question for you: all the characters in the civil war event, at least the major players(like stark, Cap, Spidey, FF), do you believe that they are acting OOC, or that the writers chose to bring out the character's worse qualities to create drama?

And do you think that if the writers had written them In Character, or at least written them to be more balanced, would it have improved the story? Actually, do you think that Civil War could have been... at least A not Bad Story under an intense rewrite? or that the whole concept should have been thrown away?

The OOC talk is tempting and also partially justified. There is a batch of previous stories scattered through the years with the Fantastic Four dealing with similar scenarios where Reed is pretty much anti-government.

1) In one Social Services sue the FF4 for endangering Reed and Sue Kids by keeping them in the Baxter Building despite it being blown up once every 2 weeks. They ask them to "register" them and put them in a safe government facility, so to spearhead a new law where they can get pre-teen superhumans "out of harm way" or some shit.

Keep in mind Franklin is still a Mutant in this story (And still is right now because FUCK YOU SLOTT). Anyway, Reed seemingly agrees,only to set up a dummy facility and "register" his kids there. He doesn't even announce it he literally only writes it in the Government's documentation and shit.

The facility is razed to the ground a couple hours later. Because yes the Baxter Building can explode at any time but AT LEAST they are there to protect the kids from the countless people.

2) In another story, Reed is asked by Congress to create a device that outs mutants and "abnormal" humans, so the government can better individuate them for "reasons." Reed agrees, and makes a device SO POWERFUL it detects every deviations from the supposed norm, so when he gives a demonstration in Congress, he reveals half of its members would qualify as "Mutants" if they kept that line of inquiry, which makes them hastily drop the whole thing. This was intentional, because who the fuck are they to decide who is or isn't not normal?

3) Compare and Contrast with Civil Ear Reed Richards, who is a McCarthy apologist who goes "Logically speaking, we need to listen to the government on this one otherwise we might get burned just like my (gay coded) artist uncle was by the McCarthy Trials in the 50s when he told the court to shove it and his life was ruined as a result. It's the rational way to do it."

4) (The three main proponents of the Registration Side being Rich, White, Heterosexual Men in positions of powers, with jobs in the science field that justify their decision with "Facts and Logic" was PROBABLY unintentional, but is also a great unintended allegory for this kind of shit. The ones who are hurt the most but these kind of laws are the ones who can't afford it after all, and who is ever going to go after the rich and powerful first? Especially if they come with little repercussions on their lives (Tony, Reed and Hank where all already outed as Superheroes after all))

5) Peter is OOC in OMD mind you, Civil War goes pretty much how you'd expect him to go (gets manipulated by authority figure into it, MJ and May are supportive of him because they see only half the facts, the SECOND Peter realizes that those people are monsters he drops them and gets the shit beaten out of him for it, unlike Reed or Tony who can AFFORD having their identities public Peter barely has the money to survive which ends with May getting shot for it). It's an incredibly poignant scenario that I wish was used to TELL A MESSAGE rather than just a backdrop to shoehorn OMD in.

6) Which is to say Civil War could indeed be written better under the same premise. If they want to keep the Patriot Act Allegory, they should be aware of what that would entail for the characters that support it.

We are currently seeing a similar scenario going on in Marvel in the Champions comics where the registration side is pretty much spearheaded by an unambiguous evil corporation and shit. In light of Civil War I existing the whole thing kinda loses its impact (Like that one joke scene where Tony goes "Maybe we should register them" with a smug look on his face as if he isn't responsible for so many deaths), but at least they are trying to shift the conversation? The villain is not the Government of course it's Evil Apple, but at least it's not a "Both Sides are equally ok" centrist bullshit take like they did in Civil War or in Skyrim.

Like, fuck, it's literally called CIVIL WAR to invoke the American Civil War in the context of the "brother kills brother" interpretation some bastards are so fond off, I wouldn't call THAT a "Both Sides are valid" scenario by a long fucking mile, yet here we are.

7) I think the best way to put it would be to set up the same scenario but make it realistic to the setting and shit.

Hank and Tony still support the Government because one is a Skrull Chaos Agent the other is misguided, Carol takes Reed's place in the Triad because Women can be War Criminals too (She was leading the equivalent of a child soldier program during Civil War so she is one already at least). Steve is also anti government because this is happening during the fucking BUSH ADMINISTRATION and he goes "When will Washington decide who the villains are?" Like he did in canon but in, like, a poignant moment.

Speaking of Reed he will keep his family neutral and go "I admit superheroing does need failsafes and some kind of oversight mind you, I just don't this this country's government has demonstrated their right to be that."

Let's not put the "Cap you are out of touch because you don't know what MySpace is" or "Luke every time I see a Sentinel that's like seeing a Burning Cross" rants in the story too because those were some raw shit.

Tony, again, lives in privilege, so it wouldn't exactly affect him, and is genuinely trying to do good, so we need to put him as the "Patsy" who gets duped by Skrull Hank Pym for it, the government is the one with the secret prison for Superheroes, Hank is the one recruiting Nazi Scientists and starting child soldier programs, clones Thor, sets up with the Government a Super Prison in the Ocean (can't use the negative zone without Reed), outside of US Jurisdiction so the government can ship then there with no trial and torture them. When Skrull Hank Pym is confronted for it, and the blame is attempted to be pinned on him and him alone, he goes "Are you earthlings daft or something? I did almost nothing, it was your government who did most of the work in their desire for security and safety, I just sped up the process for them, they would have done all of this with or without me."

Around the ending Tony finds out and is devastated and drops the whole thing."

When someone tries to comfort Tony over it because he didn't know any of this he goes "Oh, that's were you're wrong Peter. I knew. Deep down, I knew things weren't right, unjust, but I did nothing, because I could make things better from the inside, because it didn't affect me, because It would have been inconvenient to me to stop this. This is on me for passively accepting it as it is on the ones who enforced it." Which leads him to make amends, that way he is not as much of a awful character here.

The scene where The US kidnaps Ororo so they can strong arm Tchalla into getting registered happens but is treated as a international crisis as it deserves.

The Prison Break finale happens because Namor discovers the prison in HIS FUCKING DOMAIN and just goes ham on it with the help of the Anti Registration side, he drops a line like "I've seen shit like this before, I've seen what happens when man declares another man a criminal for things out of their control, for what they've been from birth, and I say NOT IN MY KINGDOM!" or some shit (He is a WWII veteran after all).

Since Steve isn't pummeling to the ground Tony in this scenario there isn't the dumb as fuck Everyday Heroes scene and he doesn't get shot by Sharon later on..

We have instead the scene from Secret Invasion where Skrull Hank Pym kills Steve (In SI it was Skrull Queen killing Janet Van Dyne) on national television, which leads to the anger of everyone involved who rush him, only for Tony to be the one who pull the trigger.

Tony is put in charge of SHIELD, which leads to Iron Reign (Dark Reign equivalent), and the story ends with him going "Let's see if things can reach change from the inside this time" as he actually reforms Shield from his position of power. The Registration Act becomes unpopular due to Steve's death and Alien Interferences, so that helps, and leads to actual protests in the streets after Namor reveals to the UN the war crimes the US is committing. It's a slow process, but is something.

OMD doesn't happen, The Peter storyline remains pretty much the same, but instead of Tony bragging about his private prisons for Superheroes in hell, it's the Punisher who shows up to him and reveals some troubling shit he discovered, Peter Confront Tony for it who dismisses it as fake news because he doesn't want to believe, Peter drops the registration side out of disgust, which then leads to the government sending villains after him rather than Tony. Tony is then seen strongly arguing with Maria Hill for this since Peter almost died from what he got from his suit readings (which he never hijacked or deactivated), but the Skrull Hank Pym shows up and supports Maria Hill for it, and Carol is busy with her child soldier program to comment.

May still gets shot and dies right as Peter and MJ discover MJ is pregnant with their second Daughter, which is ripe for lots of good stuff.

Maria Hill will therefore have to take even more of a role as a Government Plant and shit, but what's new.

Johnny Storm still gets hate crimed on but not by black people. Maybe confirm him as Bi while we're at it? You know, to get topical and all.

Ideally No More Mutants never happened so mutants are still a thing and most of them are vehemently anti registration. Emma Frost appears neutral at first glance, but ultimately she is playing the long game, secretly helping militant mutant groups and shielding the school from unwanted attention. She still has a restraining order filled for Tony Stark, she still points out to Carol how fucking dangerous a mutant life can be if outed via mind powers.

Can't think of much else for now, maybe Felicia helping MJ and May while they are in hiding? MJ is nauseous and all and she goes "must be the nerves" and Felicia agrees but May knows. This could lead to the polycule post May death since Felicia blames herself for it for not being fast enough, and MJ now is pregnant and scared and the Registration Act is getting repealed by the future is still glum and Peter is depressed so they all comfort each other and then 69 issues later we have a two parter maxi event where they face their fears and BANG we get the polycule.

Aunt May still poisons the Chameleon while he was posing as Peter. She actually actually poisons him rather then just drug him this time, because she knows of that one time he tried to force himself on MJ while posing as Peter which lead to MJ beating the shit out of him with a baseball bat, and May is a nice old lady but there are things she really can't stand you know?

Felicia and MJ help her hide the body. Peter never finds out.

And that's it?

#anti civil war #marvel

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unlocktxt · 4 years ago

Text

a step on the right path | c.y.j

Choi Yeonjun

❦ description: you tag along with your boyfriend yeonjun on a hike, which happens to be a little bit more of a struggle than you originally thought.

❦ genre: fluff

❦ word count: 2,185

++••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••++

The birds had finally started to chirp outside the nearest window, where the bright light was currently shining through. The light highlighted your lazy form, phone in hand, on the couch. You woke up slightly earlier than usual today, meaning your boyfriend was still asleep in the bedroom. This had led you to where you are now, scrolling through Instagram in envy of all of your friends who were traveling. This wouldn’t have been a problem if those same friends hadn’t convinced you that your life was boring. Sure you spent most of your free time at your house, but that was only when you weren’t at work, out with friends, or with Yeonjun. However, you let them get in your head and decided you wanted to prove to them that you could be active.

You could hear the alarm that was currently going off inside your room, signifying that it was now 7 in the morning and time for your boyfriend to get up. The shuffling of the bedsheets could be heard, which shocked you as Yeonjun typically slept for at least five more minutes. You concluded that he got up earlier today just to go on his weekly hike, which sparked a brilliant idea.

“Yeonjun!” You scrambled off the couch as you stumbled your way towards Yeonjun with a big bright smile. Yeonjun looked towards the door frame, where you stood wearing your famous ‘I have an idea’ face. “Well good morning sunshine.” You seemed extra giddy today, which warmed Yeonjun’s heart. The sight of you in the morning always managed to give his day a nice start.

“Okay I know this may seem out of the blue, but I have a great idea that may or may not-” You rambled on growing less confident before Yeonjun cut you off, “What is it baby?” His words stopped you in your tracks and you decided that it’s too late to back out now. Yeonjun continued to get ready as he looked at you, waiting for what you needed to say. “Well I thought that you know... since I’m already up... I could go hiking with you this time.” Your weight had shifted between your two feet as you stretched your fingers. You knew that his answer would likely be yes, but you also knew that you were never one to perform any type of exercise.

With your head hung low, you could hear his feet that made their way towards you. Yeonjun thought you were cute like this, but he could tell that you were embarrassed by the way you subconsciously shrunk, probably trying to make yourself invisible. In attempt to reassure you, he gently took both of your hands in one of his, as the other reached your chin. After Yeonjun slowly raised your head, you were met with a warm comforting smile, sending butterflies to your stomach. While looking at him like this you could see right through his chocolatey eyes. The man infront of you truly loves you with all his heart, you knew that not just from his actions and words, but his eyes. You couldn’t deny the overwhelming yet beautiful feelings you had towards him, you were head over heels in love with him too.

“Of course baby. How about hiking four miles?” Yeonjun had usually hiked at least eight miles two times a week, so you figured four miles would be easy. Your mistake was that you failed to remember that Yeonjun makes everything sound and look easier than it actually is. His yes was enough for you to hurry to your closet and change into a more appropriate outfit.

++••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••++

When you first got to the hiking trail, you were filled with excitement and confidence. It was kind of like that feeling you get on New Years, thinking that you are actually going to change something. The giant green trees around the trail seemed really calming, giving you a sense of peace. The nature surrounding the two of you gave you a break from the many buildings that surround you everyday. You could tell why Yeonjun preferred hiking over a walk in the city. Before actually starting the hike, you made sure to get a few pictures to prove to your friends that you were indeed doing something on your break. As you posed by a tree with your hand in a peace sign, you noticed Yeonjun’s tiny gasp. Just when you were about to head over to him in confusion he told you not to move. “Y/N don’t freak out... there’s a snake right beside you.” Although the way he said it seemed calm and collected, you could hear the panic in his voice. Hearing your name and snake in the same sentence did not sit well with you. With your face visibly paling as your heart seemed to beat quicker, you froze. “Where?” You asked in a panicked state as you looked around the ground.

Checking the ground for any stick looking figure, you didn’t see any sign of impending doom. In a hurry to get away from the danger zone, you basically leapt towards Yeonjun, only to be met with laughter. When you looked at Yeonjun, confusion was written all over your face, while his face showed mischievousness. The smirk plastered on his lips had you slowly put two and two together. “You should’ve seen your face!” The prankster’s laughter proving that he enjoyed your reaction, came to an abrupt stop as he took one glance at the look on your face. With arms crossed your eyes were burning in fury, giving Yeonjun the hint that he fucked up. At this moment, all you wanted to do was punish the person who made you fear for your life.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Yeonjun managed to screech out as you jumped onto his back. Trying to remember all of the self defense videos you’ve watched, you put him in a choke hold. Yeonjun, now fearing for his life, was spinning repeatedly in attempt to throw you off. It didn’t take long for Yeonjun to pry your arms off, causing you to fall to the ground. Sensing freedom, Yeonjun made a run for it, sprinting down the trail. “Forgive me!” His plea was heard through the endless laughter, which turned out to be contagious. Running after him you were laughing at his fast figure, “Get back here Choi Yeonjun!”

++••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••++

Having to run after Yeonjun turned out to be a major set back, as you were now only a mile and a half in and completely exhausted. Your heavy breathing was hard to hide and you felt like a heater with the amount of heat radiating off of you. Luckily, Yeonjun seeming to sense your exhaustion, starts to slow his pace. This gave you a chance to at least try and catch your breath.

“Why don’t we take a little break? I’m in need of a drink.” Those exact words lifted the weight of your body up, being grateful to finally take a break. Unlike you, Yeonjun hiked often and showed no signs of struggling, so you knew that he was stopping just for you. None the less you were not about to take this moment for granted, and let your wobbly legs rest as the cold water eased your dry throat.

You happened to glance at Yeonjun while gulping down your water. His grey sweat-stained tank and blond hair that stuck to his wet forehead only made you stare in awe. With any other human being you would easily be disgusted at the wet substance, but on Yeonjun it just seemed to sparkle. I must of done something ground breaking in my past life to deserve someone like him, you thought.

Noticing your staring, Yeonjun takes a look at your tired and sweaty figure. He found this sight of you adorable, pushing back his dirty thoughts that he could deal with later. “I think you need a shower.” He teased with a smirk on his face. It took less than a second for him to flip his water bottle towards you and pull another prank. The water squirted at you was cold and unavoidable, so you decided to join him in the fun. “Oh it’s so on!” You began to squirt him nonstop until he was soaked, of course getting soaked by Yeonjun in the process. You would never forget his reaction to the water hitting his beautiful face.

It was only until both of your bottles were empty that the two of you decided not to waste anymore water. After pouring the last of the water in the bottles, Yeonjun’s hands found their way to your hips, resting there. The sudden contact sent a spark throughout your body. When your gaze lifted from his gentle hands to his eyes, you noticed the way his brown eyes shimmered in the sunlight. As you observed his eyes, that were focused on your lips, you had to bite back your smile.

Biting your lip in anticipation for a kiss, you realized he had other plans once his gentle hands started poking at your sides. Your body seemed to be screaming at you to get away as you squirmed around. It had only been a few seconds and you were already falling to the floor yelling out, “Yeonjun! Baby! Stop before I pee my pants!” You had to slap at his hands for him to finally get the hint that you were indeed about to piss yourself. He stopped right in time with his hands raised in the air. “It’s not my fault you let your guard down! I saw my chance, so I took it.” He shrugged wearing his signature smile. “Oh... well if that’s the case then yeah go ahead and tickle me.” Sarcasm was laced in your voice as you rolled your eyes, but none the less decided to get back on track.

“Come on you goober, let’s finish up.” You lightly punched Yeonjun on the shoulder and started walking once more with newly found energy. “Uh... wrong way baby.” Quickly turning around, you pretend nothing happened, still walking with newly found energy. “Only a few more miles to go.” You could hear Yeonjun snort, “Unless you want to go down that trail you almost went on. Then we’d add 5 more miles.” You decided to ignore his teasing, smiling as you continued to walk down the correct path.

++••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••++

Seeing the half a mile sign made your stomach drop. You’d think that it would motivate you, but having learned how long that 1/2 could take, it managed to do the opposite. You swore your soul was long gone after this four mile hike. If it wasn’t for Yeonjun, who turned out to be your literal savior, you probably would’ve dropped dead by now. You didn’t have long left, but you couldn’t stop stumbling. Yeonjun, having seen this, offered his back, which you gladly took. You still managed to feel bad because you were the one who suggested hiking together in the first place. However, Yeonjun took some of your guilt away by saying things like, you’re not heavy and I love having my baby rely on me.

Your head was rested against Yeonjun’s shoulder as he continued to try and convince you to sleep. The idea of falling asleep was tempting, but you could at least stay awake for your hardworking boyfriend. In order to stay awake, you had to focus on the many things surrounding you, which is when you happened to see the gravel that signified the end. Seeing the parking lot was like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, it filled you with hope. The joy that was previously gone, returned to your eyes. You tapped Yeonjun in excitement, ready for him to let you down. “You can let me down now.” Yeonjun, laughing at your sudden energy, complied and set you down.

As soon as your feet hit the ground, you took your first step to bolt to the car. However, before you could build up speed, Yeonjun softly grabbed your wrist to stop you. Quickly spinning you around, he surprised you with the feeling of his soft plump lips against yours. The sudden feeling sent your heart flying. His lips lingered there for five seconds before he pulled away and rested his head against yours. “You did amazing today Y/N, and I enjoyed hiking with you.” His words made your heart flutter. You were scared that he would be disappointed with how exhausted you managed to get, but his kind words filled you with relief.

“Thank you for letting me tag along,” you smiled taking his hands in yours, “I love you.” Pecking his lips, you were confident that he makes you the happiest you could ever be. Before giving him a chance to comprehend what you were doing, you ran to the car. “Last one to the car is a rotten egg!” You yelled, making sure Yeonjun wasn’t about to catch up. Laughter filled the forest air as Yeonjun complained about you getting a head start. “You cheater!”

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

Text

Take a Minute

This is another case of me just indulging myself. It took longer than expected and ended up at around 2400 words, none of which really go anywhere.

Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom for the read through and cheering.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

The hatch creaked as the hydraulics let it down to the dry hard packed dirt. A small puff of dust billowed up around the hot cahelium and it caught in his nose, tickling in the heat.

The horizon was flat and the earth iron red as it disappeared into the ominous grey of the cloud blocking the sky.

Virgil’s boots made their own puffs of dust as he stepped off the hatch and emerged from under the shadow of Two. The puffs followed him as he walked the length of his ‘bird. The dirt gritted under his specialised soles as he avoided the heat of her cooling VTOL and the scorch of her now quiet thrusters.

His landing was precautionary. A warning light had come on during the flight home and dumping himself in the middle of the Outback for a mechanical check was preferable to taking a swan dive in the middle of the Tasman.

Outside appearances gave no clue to the issue and unfortunately, he would have to wait for her engines to cool off before attempting to access the thruster that was the problem.

A sigh and he turned back to look at the horizon.

He truly was in the middle of nowhere.

“Thunderbird Two, status report.”

Typical Scott. His brother was hip deep in a rescue on the other side of the planet, but his brother radar still managed the range.

“Status a-okay, Thunderbird One. Just taking a moment to gaze at the scenery.”

“John says you have a mechanical fault.”

“Quite possibly. Fine for the moment. Just need a little cooling time. I’ll keep you updated.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Two.”

And then it was back to the silence.

True silence.

There was no wind.

No water.

No birds.

Just the heat of a dying day leaching out of the sand, the creak of his cooling ‘bird, and the potential energy in the air.

It was going to rain.

The Kansas farm boy could tell that much. Even in another country and an entirely different environment, he could feel it.

He didn’t need fancy instrumentation to predict that.

The impending storm raised the hair on his arms under his uniform. It itched at his skin and spoke of change.

Ants crawled across his boots, winged queens and drones launching to join a cloud of them off to his right.

It was eerie.

He shifted where he stood, unsure of what to do next. He wasn’t one for killing time. Time was a valuable thing and needed to be used to its upmost. But this stop was unplanned and there was little he could do while waiting.

Sure, there were tasks. There were always tasks, nitty gritty maintenance jobs. He was never short of work.

But the air was still. The sense of building atmospheric release buzzed across his senses.

It was tantalising.

He shivered.

There were still a couple of hours before sunset, but the air was dark due to the heavy cloudbank looming over the landscape.

A thought.

A flash of guilt followed by stubborn determination.

He turned and climbed back on to the hatch and retracted it, only to lower it again a few moments later with a folded chair and a box in his hands.

He parked it in the sand.

The silence was a physical presence.

He opened the box to reveal a portable watercolour kit – a neat palette of half pans, a fine brush and a small block of high-quality paper.

It was an indulgence he kept aboard his ‘bird. One he had yet to use, so this was definitely an opportune moment. A tiny amount of time to throw down some colour and capture this red-on-blue-grey intensity.

It didn’t take him long to realise he had forgotten a couple of things. A muttering step back into his ‘bird and he returned with a small table and a cup full of water.

He finally managed to settle himself. Painting while wearing his uniform wasn’t the most comfortable. It was bulky and in the way. He did shed his gloves, which meant he had to take off his wrist controller. Scott would frown enough to dent his nose, but he couldn’t paint with his gloves on.

There was heavy lifting, but there was also sensitive and tactile manipulation. He liked to think he was capable of both.

A dip of his brush into clear water, a dab of cadmium red, and colour spilled onto the paper.

Payne’s grey filled the sky in soft billows with just a hint of ultramarine. He tried to keep his touch gentle. Watercolour was so unforgiving. Fast and delicate, the colours could easily be overdone and unlike acrylic or oils, could not be undone satisfactorily.

It took all his concentration to sketch out the worn landscape.

The parched air dried the colours quickly and it wasn’t long before he was flicking strands of yellow ochre spinifex in the foreground, the little painting almost done.

In the distance, the clouds rumbled warning.

He dabbed in a second layer to bring up the contrast, the greys echoing the thunder on the horizon. Just a touch of green brought out the red of the iron in the sand.

“I really don’t know how you do that.”

Virgil nearly fell out of his chair.

“Scott!” His heart thudded in his ears and he clutched the drying painting in his hands as it tried to slip from his fingers. “What the hell?! How did you…?” He shot to his feet and turned to find his brother standing behind him. Beyond, at a respectable distance, sat Thunderbird One.

Scott held up both hands, taking a step back. “Hey, I saw you were painting, so I parked back a ways. Figured you wouldn’t want VTOL messing with your paints.” But then his brother was smothering a grin. “You were kinda zoned out there, Virg.”

“You were in Prague! How did you get here so fast?” It was a stupid question. He was Scott Tracy. Fast was part of his genome.

But his brother frowned. “It’s been over an hour since I last contacted you. The situation is resolved. I was on my way back and thought I’d check in. John said he hadn’t had an update.”

Virgil stared at his brother. An hour? He brought his wrist up to check the time, but his controller was on the little table beside his chair with his discarded gloves.

Oh.

Scott arched an eyebrow at him.

Virgil grunted before putting the painting down carefully and retrieving his equipment. A moment later, his gloves were on and his wrist controller back in place.

It was indeed over an hour later.

Thunderbird Two would have cooled down enough forty-odd minutes ago.

“You were lost in your painting, weren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. His brother sighed, walked over to the table and picked up the piece of art. Blue eyes scrutinised it. “Nope. I don’t have a clue how you do that. It’s great, Virg.” He handed it over and somewhat numbly, Virgil took it.

He stared at the strokes in which he had been so absorbed earlier. The landscape stretched into the paper, reds bouncing off blues, the stillness captured in pigments.

Okay, so he had to admit, it was working quite well. He had muddied the colour a little in one corner and there was a patch where he’d left more white paper than was probably necessary because he was too worried about over doing the paint, but overall it mostly did what he wanted it to do. Oh, his wash hadn’t quite worked in that bit. Damn.

But…

He could get away with it.

“Earth to Virgil? You okay in there?”

Scott was smirking.

Virgil glared at him before cradling the watercolour block in one hand, picking up the palette with the other and packing it away. He stomped his way back to his ‘bird.

He ignored the laugh behind him.

He was stashing the paints in their locker when Scott joined him in Two, both the table and chair folded up in his hands. “Where do you stash these?”

Virgil gestured in the direction of the utility store and his brother put the equipment away.

Back in the cockpit, Virgil pulled up the suspect control and found the red light still glaring accusingly as Scott entered behind him.

“Give me ten. I need to inspect her starboard thruster.” He grabbed a safety line and threw back the overhead hatch. The gloomy atmosphere crept into the cockpit, but he ignored it and elevated the himself up so he could climb onto the top of his ‘bird.

“Virgil, you do know there is a storm coming in. You’re standing on the highest point for miles.”

“I’ll only be a minute.” Keep your pants on.

But his brother was right. His dawdling with his paints had cost him time and the weather was moving in.

He hurried across the back of his Thunderbird sliding carefully onto her starboard intake, and making his way down to the access hatch. He hooked in his safety line, prodded his controller to release the security, and hauled the hatch open.

Five minutes later, with several profane words that had Scott even more concerned, he yanked an obstruction out of her secondary intake valve.

It was a bright yellow, now somewhat grimy, Thunderbird Four.

No more than four inches long.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Virg? What? Who?”

“Gordon.” He didn’t elaborate. The sky was well and truly rumbling now and he needed to get inside.

Tightening the valve, he gave it a good once over to check for damage. Another poke at his controller and the dash confirmed the issue resolved.

Access secured, he unhooked his line and made a run for the main hatch just as the landscape lit up white with lightning.

He leapt into his ‘bird as if he had that lightning on his tail.

His boots hit deck plates. Virgil reached up and threw the hatch closed and sealed away the angry sky.

Scott was staring at him.

Virgil met that gaze before walking past his brother towards his pilot seat. He casually chucked the little Thunderbird Four to his brother like the grenade it was.

Scott caught it. “What the hell?”

Gordon was dead twice over and he didn’t even know it.

“You better get back to your ‘bird. The sky’s going to open up any minute and we should probably be above it rather than below it.” Virgil poked at the weather read out. It was only a weather front, nothing compared to the cyclone forces the Thunderbirds were capable of tackling. “You might get wet.”

Scott was still glaring at the model in his hand. A distracted grunt.

Gordon was definitely dead.

Possibly more than twice.

“Okay, less imaginary brother murders and more getting back to your ‘bird.”

“Huh?”

Yeah, so now who was zoning out?

Virgil nudged his brother onto the hatch platform and stepped on himself, lowering it onto the red dust again.

He stepped off the deck plates just as the first fat rain drops started to hit the dust.

Damn. “Too late.” And as if he had given the sky permission, it really opened up.

Water hit dry earth in big splats, puffs of red rose only to be taken down by more rain. The stipple of water fast became patches and then the land deepened in colour. The bright iron red darkened almost to a burgundy. The spinifex he had so finely painted not half an hour earlier, shifted from a yellow ochre to a gold that almost glowed in the remnant light.

As Scott stepped up beside him, secure under the protection of Two’s nose, the landscape bleached suddenly and the sky grumbled and cracked. The air smelt of ozone and the sharp evaporation of precipitation in the heat. But there was more water than the air or the earth could take and it puddled in the indents between the rocks.

Some kind of thorny lizard darted out from a tuft of spinifex and hurried under the shelter of Two beside the brothers. At the lack of the rain on its back, it looked up as if surprised. Two reptilian eyes stared at them before darting back out into the rain.

Scott took another step forward and Virgil put a hand on his arm.

“You’re not going to try to run through that.”

“I’ve got to get back to One.”

“Why?”

“Because…” His brother trailed off.

Virgil squeezed his arm gently. “Take a minute. This is a desert storm. It will be short lived. We can wait.”

Blue eyes stared at him.

Okay, so waiting wasn’t part of Scott Tracy’s genome.

“Take a minute. Watch.” Virgil turned back to the storm and revelled in the release of the tension that had been building for the last couple of hours. He watched the rain hit the earth, the patterns, the dance of spinifex leaves. He listened to the roar, the wet splat against cahelium, the sigh as the water disappeared into the grass and the grumbles in the clouds.

Scott eventually turned to look and, for a short while there, they were just a couple of brothers staring out at the storm.

The fact they were sheltering underneath one of the most advanced technological creations on the planet was unimportant.

“This is all your fault, you know.” Scott’s voice was soft.

A grunt. “I think Gordon’s is the more likely culprit.”

“If you hadn’t stopped to paint, we’d be home by now.”

Virgil didn’t answer immediately. He took a breath. “But then we would have missed this.”

At that moment the sun finally hit the horizon and slipped through a gap in the clouds to light up the wet landscape in gold. Rain still fell, but it was as if it was liquid sunlight failing from the sky. Water glistened on everything and the clouds lit up from underneath.

Thunder rumbled in clouds turning pink in the east.

“Yeah, we would.” But the acknowledgement was distracted as Scott stared at the spectacle.

Perhaps they had something for which to thank Gordon. It was a moment that they would never have experienced if Virgil hadn’t had to stop.

He breathed in the freshened air and let it out with a relaxing sigh.

No.

Gordon was still dead.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy

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visionsofus · 4 years ago

Note

i just binge read ur scarlet vision mixtape collection n i am in lov w it. is it possible to request me and my husband by mitski? thank u xx

anon thank you SO much for requesting this song - I’d never listened to it before! It fit perfectly and I hope you like the direction I took <3

Track #14: Me and My Husband by Mitski

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

Synopsis: Vision is reminded that it is Valentine's Day and decides to show up at Wanda's safehouse to surprise her. Fluff ensues and Wanda's fugitive teammates realise exactly how close the pair have become.

“So, when are you leaving?” Tony asked around a mouthful of egg and bacon. They were sat at the dining table, Tony eating his hastily prepared breakfast while Vision perused the news on the tablet in front of him. Many a morning was spent this way, just the two of them. Occasionally they were joined by Happy and other times it was just Vision on his own.

“Leaving? To go where?” Vision asked looking up in surprise.

Tony raised his eyebrows but finished chewing before he spoke again. “To rendezvous with your lover?”

“Oh,” Vision said setting the tablet down, they usually didn’t speak about the weeks he disappeared from the compound to see Wanda. It had become something of a taboo, out of sight out of mind, which he supposed helped Tony cope with the risk Vision put himself in every few weeks. “We don’t have plans to meet up until the end of February.”

“You’re missing Valentine’s day?” Tony asked, surprised.

“Oh yes, that is today isn’t it?” Vision murmured folding his hands before him in contemplation. “Well, we didn’t speak about needing to spend the day together, it never really came up…”

Tony looked aghast.

“I mean I don’t think it’s important,” Vision continued hesitantly but Tony had begun to shake his head.

“No, no, no that’s not gonna cut it,” he said wiping his mouth on a napkin and standing up. “C’mon you’re going to Canada.”

“Canada? Why?”

“Because I am not going to let you stand her up on the most romantic night of the year.”

That was how Vision ended up taking the quinjet up to Canada, arriving in the late afternoon. Tony had given him obscure coordinates taking him somewhere north of Calgary. With the jet safely cloaked and hidden off the main road he began to short walk towards the nearby converted barn that the rest of the team were reportedly residing in. In the afternoon light the fields turned a golden green and seemed to stretch on for miles.

The barn was fairly unassuming from the outside, the only evidence it was lived in being the wide windows on the second floor and what appeared to be a recent coat of paint. He hoped that they wouldn’t have to move on for a while, that this would be isolated enough they could spend some time not running for their lives.

A thin path had been carved out through what would usually be a wild assortment of plants in the front garden, though it was now scarce thanks to winter’s frosts. Set in the middle of the front of the barn was a Dutch door and Vision stepped up to it, rapping the door knocker sharply. The house was silent inside and the only sign that anyone was home was the car sat dormant in the driveway. A distorted head shape edged into view through the frosted glass, and it floated there for a moment before the door swung open to reveal Sam Wilson.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked in disbelief.

“Very nice to see you as well, Sam,” Vision said smiling, “is Wanda in?”

“Is Wanda in?” Sam shook his head and looked over his shoulder. “Can’t think of anywhere else she would be, we are fugitives you know.”

“I am well aware.”

Sam sighed when the sarcasm didn’t hit. “Yeah sure, c’mon in. You weren’t followed here?”

“I cloaked the quinjet through the Air Defence Identification Zone and used a secure flight path,” Vision assured him as he stepped inside, immediately noting how warm it was.

“The others are through in the living room and I think Nat is out shopping,” Sam said shutting and locking the door behind him. “Why are you here though? Anything we need to be aware of?”

“Of course not,” Vision said trying to be assuring, suddenly realising how his presence could be misleading, “I’m just here for—”

He was cut off by the welcome sound of Wanda’s voice. “Vis!” she cried in excitement running around the corner, her sock clad feet slipping on the floor and sending her careening into his arms.

Vision laughed and dipped to catch her in a tight hug. She was wrapped up in a woollen sweater that he was quite sure had once been his, but that she must have commandeered on one of their trips in the last year. She had to stand on the tip of her toes to reach but pressed several kisses on his cheeks.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda demanded, leaning back to take him in, her eyes glowing happily.

“I thought I might surprise you,” Vision said quite conscious that Sam was staring open mouthed at them.

At that precise moment Steve walked in to join the group coalescing in front of the door. He was about to bite into an apple but paused when he saw who had joined them, disbelief colouring his newly bearded face.

“Captain,” Vision nodded, “sorry for dropping in unannounced.”

“Vision,” said a dumbstruck Steve, “you’re here… not in America…”

“Yes,” he said holding his arms out to demonstrate he was indeed, physically present.

“I thought we agreed to end of the month in Venice?” Wanda asked turning to him suspiciously.

“Well, you can’t expect me to not show up on Valentine’s day,” Vision said as though it were obvious, though it had not too been obvious to him mere hours ago. The other three stared at him blankly.

“Huh, 14thof February already?” Steve said to himself.

Wanda looked surprise and laughed in disbelief. “You’re right I had no idea you’d show up for Valentine’s day.”

Vision suddenly felt a little out of place. He always met Wanda alone, never with company. They hadn’t been around the other Avengers as anything more than friends, and by now they were much more than that. It had made so much sense to come for Valentine’s day when Tony had been explaining its significance, but perhaps he had overstated the day’s importance. Feeling like a bit of a fool Vision fished around in his pockets for an apt distraction his hand landing on a bar of chocolate. “I suppose you wouldn’t be wanting any of this chocolate then?”

“Not that I need bribery to have you near me,” she said more quietly taking his hand even as Vision withdrew the Sokovian chocolate she was so fond of. It was challenging to get a hold of thanks to limited imports since the Sokovia incident. Vision made sure to buy it at any opportunity and had since amassed a small collection back at the compound for times like this. She grinned as she accepted the chocolate bar and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Well chocolate and Valentine’s day wishes delivered, I suppose I should leave,” Vision said looking around to see that Sam and Steve were having a silent conversation that was mostly raised eyebrows and shrugged shoulders.

“What are you talking about?” Wanda asked. “You’ve come all the way here you’re at least spending the night. Come on, I’ll show you the house.”

Secretly glad, he let her lead him around. She started at the floor they were currently on, showing him the quaint kitchen at the back of the house and the interconnected living room complete with cosy armchairs and a crackling fireplace. Upstairs were several bedrooms, not particularly large but it meant that they could each have their own spaces. Her bedroom was cast in a warm orange glow as she led him in around a small bed and pointed out the view that she had come to love over the last few weeks. It comforted him to know that she was able to have a space in this way, where she could keep things on a bedside table and put her clothes in a closet instead of the living out of a bag she did when they travelled together.

Back downstairs Natasha had returned, and Sam and Steve were unpacking the shopping in the kitchen as she unwound a scarf and removed her beanie, which had apparently been in the interest of protecting her identity.

“Good to see you Vision,” Nat said grinning at him, and he found comfort in her reaction. It wasn’t that Sam and Steve hadn’t been friendly, but it was as though they didn’t know why he was here and that made him nervous, it made him doubt.

But Wanda was his grounding force and she continued to act as though nothing were different. And so, Vision chose to follow her lead, focusing on his most important person instead of his worries.

They didn’t leave each other’s side for the remainder of the afternoon and he helped Wanda prepare the dinner when she explained it was her turn to cook for her fugitive housemates. She’d decided on a stir fry and he diligently set about slicing up the vegetables for her.

“You travelled here ok?” She said leaning her head against his shoulder as she cooked the noodles and Vision slid a responding arm around her waist.

“Of course,” he said kissing the top of her forehead.

“There was no trouble with Stark even though this wasn’t in the calendar?”

“It wouldn’t matter even if there was,” he replied and knew it was true. He was glad that Tony was so supportive of his relationship with Wanda but equally understood that nothing would have stopped him continuing to see her.

Steve and Sam came bustling through the kitchen collecting plates and cutlery for the dining table. Vision made to draw back but Wanda grabbed his hand and kept it pressed to her side, giving him a reassuring smile that said all he needed to hear, he ducked his head to kiss her once more. On the way out Vision heard Steve loudly whisper “I think they’re really cute”. Sam’s exasperated response was, “Of course you do”.

“Who would have thought Captain America was such a sap when he wasn’t working,” Wanda said quietly to Vision as he drowned out the bickering now taking place in the other room. “He watches more rom-coms movies than all of us put together.”

It was nice to share a meal with the teammates he had grown so close to but hadn’t seen in so long, even if Vision wasn’t actually eating. They told him stories of their travels in the last eighteen months, mostly sticking to the good times though he was aware there were difficult sides to every anecdote they shared. Vision had heard stories from Wanda of the early days on the run where they took turns sleeping and keeping watch, no matter where they were or how strong the locks might be. It was a time of constant strife from what he understood. It was a relief, then, to see them in a place like this and though he knew it would be hard to stay here for ever, he was glad to hear they had plans to stay until Wanda returned from the Venice trip in April.

Afterwards he hung behind with Steve in the kitchen and helped wash up.

“It’s good you’re here,” Steve said handing him a clean plate to dry up, “it’s nice to see her so happy.”

Vision smiled at the acknowledgment, wiping the plate dry with a tea towel and setting it on the counter. “She is the strongest person I know.” Then, softer, “but I wish I could be there more often to help shoulder her burden.”

Steve hummed in agreement. “It sort of came as a surprise to all of us when she told us she’d started seeingyou. Sure, we assumed things, but I don’t think it was really clear until tonight. I’m happy for you both.”

Vision was aware that Wanda had never really sat the rest of her teammates down to hash out the specifics of what she was doing with Vision when they were away. She was content in knowing that they supported her in pursuing the relationship they now had and had never seen reason to share more than she needed to. She’d confided that there were times when she wanted to boast about their relationship, taking pride in the bond they shared which made him happy. But they both shared the feeling that the intimacy they had couldn’t be explained simply, it was uniquely theirs and he was content to not share it with anyone else if Wanda was as well.

“It’s a relief for me, knowing that she has you,” Steve went on, “the loneliness is hard on all of us, all this moving around. Wanda had only just begun calling the compound home when we had to leave, so I’m glad she has you to come back to.”

It warmed Vision’s heart to hear how highly Wanda was appreciated in Steve’s mind, and it reassured him that she had a strong friendship with her team that could keep her afloat when they couldn’t be together.

The evening was growing late by the time they reconvened in the living room with the rest of the house’s inhabitants. Sam had stretched himself out on the couch and was starting to nod off. Nat sat in raptures over the program on television, which, by the sound of the narration, was a David Attenborough wildlife documentary.

Wanda rose from where she had been curled up in a comfy armchair and took Vision’s hand, pulling him over. Her eyes glowed with such open happiness that he couldn’t help the feeling that he was falling more and more every time they were near. It had been happening for months now, or years more likely, but at times like this it hit him just how in love he was.

He sat down in the chair, sinking into its comfy embrace and held his arms out for Wanda who didn’t hesitate in climbing into his lap, settling against his chest and dangling her feet over the arms of the chair. He closed his eyes sighing in content, if only every night could be this way. They didn’t need a fancy dinner out, and the chocolates he gave her had been more than those little heart shaped ones he saw on tv, they’d shared a dinner with her closest friends and now settled down in a space she felt comfortable and safe in. It was his perfect evening, and he did his best to capture it in his mind, saving it to pour over and relive in the moments when they were separated, and he missed her most.

As he opened his eyes, he found her gazing at him and she scrunched her nose up happily when their eyes met. She kissed him once quickly, but he managed to tease one more longer kiss out of her before she settled into his arms fully and closed her eyes.

Vision had expected some sort of sarcastic comment regarding their affection, but the living room was comfortably quiet aside from the calming voice over of David Attenborough on the tv. A quick look over his shoulder showed that Natasha was the only one paying them real attention, she smiled at Vision and gave him a slight nod. He smiled back, a moment of gratitude for each other for being such constants in Wanda’s life.

One by one Steve, Sam and Nat trickled off upstairs, Steve pausing to whisper that he’d checked all the locks and the security system and to just turn the lights off when they went to bed. Wanda was asleep against Vision’s chest and had been for a while now, but she was so peaceful that he couldn’t bear to move her.

So, she slept on and Vision peered outside the windows into the desolate fields that spanned out from the property. He could just see the rising moon peeking out from behind the clouds, casting a strong milky glow on the fields. The fire popped and crackled more quietly now, nearly out, its last embers of warmth keeping the room nice and toasty against the February chill outside.

It was sat there in the old leather armchair with his lover gathered in his arms, miles away from any of the problems they faced in the real world that Vision stole a few breaths to let his thoughts wonder. Thinking of all the time they had been together, all that they had been through and with more challenges no doubt in their future. How he had, against all odds, fallen in love with the remarkable woman asleep in his lap, and that she had returned his affection so fervently. He often thought about the different kinds of love, wondering what he had with Wanda. Initially, when they’d lived at the compound together, he had been sure it was just curiosity, that he was only responding to how she treated him. As someone normal, a friend, a companion. Then, as time went on, he thought it might be infatuation, the desire he’d felt to be near her, to be the reason she smiled but ultimately, a short term attachment. That had all changed in the polarising events of the Accords which he had been sure would tear them apart, but here they were, over a year later and he was still very much in love. Perhaps it was as the Greeks said, six different kinds of love for different relationships. Of all the renditions, Vision supposed Pragma was closest to how he felt, the love that was not only about falling but learning to stand up and keep walking. Beyond this, Vision felt a strange certainty that they’d always be together, in some shape or form and that, when separated, they’d always find their way back to each other.

The fire finally seemed to have given all it could, and so Vision shifted slightly, rubbing Wanda’s arm to rouse her. “I’m going to take you upstairs, Wanda,” he said quietly.

“Alright,” she smiled raising her arms up sleepily which he laughed at, winding them around his neck before he lifted her up.

Upstairs he pulled the covers aside and lay her down, brushing her hair out of her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Get in bed,” she hissed covering her eyes against the overhead light which he quickly switched out.

“So demanding,” he chuckled but relented, going around the other side and changing into lighter clothes for sleeping in.

“Is there anything else you need?” Wanda said absentmindedly, still playing the host. “Another pillow? Blankets?”

Vision sighed and instead pulled her closer so that he might press his chest to her back and wrap his arms around her waist. He kissed her cheek and felt her smile into the cosy room. “I have you, my love, what else could I possible need?”

——————————————

Updated taglist open on request (dm or ask me and I’ll tag you when I update)

#wandavision #wanda x vision #Wandavision fanfiction #scarletvision #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #sweet Vision #Scarletvision valentine's day #soft Vision #Wanda just wants him to be with her all the time

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helpinghanikan · 5 years ago

Text

Stay outside the Line

X-men x Reader

Sum: Just because a mutation is a gift, doesn’t mean it’s not a curse.

an: the mutation is anyone within certain distance of the reader will start to die. Could not think of an eloquent way to say that.

Charles Xavier:

Sitting just within the shadow of one of the massive trees you lean back into the sun. The breeze is comfortable, and the grass is soft. If it weren’t for you company it’d be too easy to lean back and nap right there and then.

Although you’d never know the touch of his hand you were still connected to your man. A long stretch of twine, twenty-one feet exactly, is tied around your wrist. The other end was connected to Charles. Tied in the same fashion around your wrist but holding the string between his fingers. Without even meaning to he was caressing it; thumb rubbing up and down the length while the other hand held his book.

Closest you would get as physical contact from Charles was mirroring his movements. Running your own thumb over your other hand, not looking down lest your break the illusion.

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

Erik Lehnsherr:

At first he was just another face staring at you behind bullet proof glass. Both he and the other guy were talking to your host, mouths moving but nothing coming through on your end. Had it been a year or even a few months early you would have sat on your bed with knees to the chest. Wait for them to leave before being comfortable again.

Now you just keep reading, barely glancing without interest to the glass.

“What have you done to be locked in here?” The tall man’s voice could be mistaken for God’s by how it comes down from above. The speakers placed so you’d never be able to pretend like you didn’t hear anything.

‘Accidentally killed a bus load of people.’ Was the answer but you wouldn’t say it.

“It’s safer for everyone. They’ll make sure I won’t hurt anyone while I’m in here.” You say instead, nodding to your host.

“Did they tell you that after they locked the door?” He asks.

Supposedly you weren’t in a prison. The incident on the bus was labeled a ‘possible gas leak of unknown substances’. You being the only survivor was sent to this facility to help with the trauma, and to find out how the same incident happened in the hospital.

You had yet to stare at him right on. His gentle knocking “You don’t belong here, you will never belong here. We can help you, We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

There was nothing else to do with your life but to agree. You wouldn’t be able to leave on your own. But the moment you’re out, how could they ever get you back in?

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

Raven/ Mystique:

Over time you’ve learned how to push the poison deeper inside of you. Spending most days imaging it as a physical type of sand that covered you head to toe. Pressing and forcing that down into your shoes. Walking on it and keeping from spreading any further then a foot from your own body.

Even with that amount of work there was still times that it slipped. When Pressure in your head and behind your eyes starts to push out, and a migraine seems preferable, you have to make a quick exit.

Most people understand and don’t look twice when you run from the room. Others will give each other looks but only verbally ask what’s up in a whisper later on in the night. Then there was the few that understood but still followed. How do you tell the woman that you love to fuck off for a night? Probably in much nicer words, but for now you make an exit from the mansion, Raven keeping her distance but following anyway.

“Get to the trees, little faster!” She almost yells the encouragement.

“Please, Raven, Please stay back!” You yelled, both hands holding your head.

It’d be romantic to think that you made it thanks to Raven’s encouragement. Whatever length of your nails, they dug into your scalp. The pressure was the definition of insanity at this point, stepping into the tree line and screaming without a sound.

Thank whoever was up there that Raven knew better then to comfort you. Staying far enough away that the released poison never touched her. The poison obeyed it’s own laws and stayed within the twenty feet. In the dark of the night green grass turns brown and trees creak instead of scream as they die. Only one of said trees was small enough to be completely overtaken by it.

You’re still drawing blood from your own head when that tree falls.

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

Peter Maximoff:

The best way to describe Peter is like a kitten who just learned it could climb things. Try as you might to explain that it’s not a good idea to climb the drapes it will never listen. It will keep trying to climb no matter how many times you pull it away and tell it “no”.

It’s not until there’s crashing in the middle of the night and few meows of pain that the little idiot will learn. This it the same situation you were in with Peter. No matter how many times you tell him to not get too close he always breaks the rule. Thinking that he is faster then the poison to run close enough to give a peck or a little slap on the backside before making it into the safe zone.

Little kisses and touches were always nice, but it was playing with fire. Eventually he got too cocky, assuming he was faster than poison that tries too hard to protect you. He started to slow down to make the kisses longer and touches more frequent. When that didn’t come with real repercussions, he started going even slower. When his hand lingers too long on your back the repercussions hits him full force.

It was hard enough to see the symptoms when you were younger. But as an adult, watching your man clutch his throat and fall to his knees was so much worse. With his head bowed you wouldn’t see the blood until he’d completely fall on his side, something that no one wanted to happen. Without thinking to you reached down to him, both hands open trying to do anything you can.

You name is yelled from across the lawn. An overly harsh shout from your mentor who had never honestly yelled at you before. “Back away!”

Charles could see the fear and shock in your eyes. But he also had the rest of his students to think about. ‘You have to go, now.’ The whisper in your mind is a world away from the panicked shouts, but it might have been better if he had just yelled at you.

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

Hank McCoy:

You had to be used to secluded rooms by now; at least this one was less like a cell and more like a square fish bowl. The stool in the center and the little slot on the side were the only things giving off prison vibes.

For most of the afternoon Hank has been focused on either his desk or a microscope or a computer. Every time he moves from one to another you look from your book, wait a few seconds to see whether he was looking at you, then return to the paragraph that you now had to restart.

There was no one to blame but yourself for this problem. Hank had told you it was going to be boring, when he would have results he’d get you himself. Instead you went with him. “Not like I’m doing anything anyway,” You had said, telling him to wait a few minutes to step into your little security fish box.

“It’s good enough for a trial run.” He says, probably to himself.

The liquid he holds up is the same shade of blue as his fur. Over the past few weeks it has changed from several different colors. At one point it looked like blood, like the same color as the blood you had given him. The he had held within a smaller containment field. Even the smallest part of you gave off at least a little poison.

“That’ll fix it? Or least tone it down?” You ask.

“Supposedly, I used my original idea and added some new things. Last time it didn’t go as well.” He says, slightly looking down at himself. He had meant it to come off as a joke, instead he says it with some sadness underlining it.

“Well with new stuff it must have improved, hand it over.” You move next to the little slot by the door.

“Considering last time, I’m gonna test it on something else, first. Make sure it doesn’t do the same thing again.” Hank says.

“What else are you going to test it on?”

“Not you,” He says shutting it in the desk. “If I make you any worse that box probably won’t hold it.”

It’s hard to pout and leave the room when you can’t leave the room. Instead just crossing your arms and pouting.

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

Jean Gray:

Over a mile separates you and your woman. Hours spent in your little cabin in the corner of the estate, mostly sleeping, mostly hiding. This time it was pretending to sleep. Acting like the monstrous thunder and lightning outside wasn’t a window away from being in your room.

The rest of the students were in the school itself. Having their thicker walls and each other to protect against the storm. The professor had offered you to stay inside the mansion during storms like this. But that safety would be in the basement, two floors below another living thing. Without any windows and set up with a less comfortable bed and none of your decorations. At least in the cabin you’d die around your things and the outside if the storm got in.

‘Hey’ Jean always had a way to find you. Mostly in your mind. ‘How are you doing?’

“If I die do you think my mutation will leave with me?” You ask the darkness.

‘Don’t say that. It’s just a storm, nothing we don’t live with.’ Her soft laugh travels with her words. It warms the cabin and keeps away the lightening for the briefest of moments. ‘Do you want to come inside?”

“No, I’m all snuggled up. I don’t think I’d make it to the mansion anyway.”

Although the darkness gives nothing there’s a soft weight on your shoulder. A matching feel covering the extension of your back. Knees without a body pressed into the back of yours, arms and no being lay over your body. Their fingers in your hair. You were alone, but Jean make sure to be with you.

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

Logan/ Wolverine:

Being around Logan was like being in another world. One where you were born without the poison smell and didn’t have to struggle to remember what another person felt like. First time you felt his hand on your shoulder it was like being slapped.

“It’s like swallowing pennies. I can taste it, but nothing is coming out.” Logan had described it to you. His healing faster than the damage your poison could give.

On the off chance that Logan is injured in your company, it’s very likely the poison would take advantage of that moment. But that didn’t stop you either of you. It was a possibility that was best not thought about.

Instead you stay your course. Turning the school girl crush into a relationship through raw stubbornness and the ability to get drunk on someone into a two party affair.

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

Kurt Wagner:

You were two people with the same want of seclusion but for different reasons. Just happening to catch a glance of each other when having the same idea of a hiding spot.

Back then you were still new to the estate, being allowed to read and work away from others. Catching a glance of anyone and your scrambling to gather your books, coming off as more then just rude when you yell at them to stay back.

Kurt was the one you didn’t have time to yell at to get away. A flash of blue, books in your arms, and he’s gone. Only a few times did he stay long enough for you to catch a better look at him. A face, blue skin and a tail that hung down from the branch he had been sitting on. That time he was far enough away to not be in danger, had you waved at him he would be. But only if he misread and took it as an invitation to come closer.

It took weeks but you finally had the courage to wave. Just a small one that he returned. A small relationship made through small gestures.

#X-men #charles xavier x reader #erik lehnsherr x reader #raven x reader #kurt wagner x reader #jean gray x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #mystique x reader #peter maximof x reader #mutant reader #dangerous mutation #x-men imagine

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calumcest · 5 years ago

Text

masterlist

ok firstly please bear in mind most of these fics were written in 2014/15 when i was 16 so please do not judge their quality too harshly

ao3

[there are some fics on there that i haven’t put here, mainly chaptered fics but some others too]

drabbles (malum, lashton, cashton, mashton)

lashton

i can count on the sun to shine

It’s not been the easiest of days, but it’s not been the roughest either, so Ashton’s half-surprised when Luke crawls into his lap and curls up in it, looping his arms around Ashton’s neck and nosing into Ashton’s neck, breath warm and even against Ashton’s skin.

my beating heart belongs to you

“God, you’re all sweaty,” Michael adds, and Ashton snorts because that is fucking rich coming from the guy whose sweat has disintegrated two shirts so far this tour. “That’s how Luke likes me,” Ashton fires back, and Calum pulls a face whilst Michael laughs. “What’s how I like you?” Luke asks, coming up behind Ashton and wrapping his arms around him, resting his chin on Ashton’s head.

young and in love (that should be enough)

“Ashton.” Luke draws out the second syllable, pouting to add effect to his words. “Lukey,” Ashton says, stringing out the second syllable too in a softly mocking manner. “What do you want?” “A cuddle,” Luke announces, “from my favourite boyfriend.”

say you’ll never change

@Luke5SOS: It feels like we’re ready to crack these days you & I

it feels like we’re ready to crack these days, you & i [extended version of above fic]

It’s not really that pathetic that Ashton’s got tweet and text notifications on for Luke. Not really.

we gamble with desire

“Guys,” Michael says, making his way into the back lounge. “Have you heard of fanfiction?”

rules of the band

In retrospect, it’s kind of Ashton’s fault that it all starts. He’d eaten the last of the Vegemite, something he knows Michael and Calum feel very strongly about, and it had resulted in a sheet of paper pinned to the fridge by a frog magnet that had ‘Rules of the Band’ scrawled in Calum’s handwriting at the top. Rules of the Band

NOBODY WILL EAT THE LAST OF THE VEGEMITE!!!

soulmates

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

my friends are a different breed

“What’s happening?” Calum says, walking out into the living room. “Luke and Ashton weren’t kissing,” Michael informs him. Calum nods. “We weren’t,” Ashton says in what he hopes is a believable tone.

i’ve got a lot of friends who are stars

The city’s fucking beautiful at night.

dreams only last for a night

Luke prefers it when Ashton’s asleep.

happy father’s day dad :-)

@Calum5SOS: @Ashton5SOS happy Father’s Day dad :-)

my friends are everything

CH: Who’s eaten the last of the fucking vegemite

AI: wtf that was like rule number 1

my new comfort zone

It’s when it starts getting to the tense, anticipatory bit of the film where the gang of actual idiots are about to enter the house which Luke’s ninety-nine percent sure has a murderer in it, that’s when Luke whimpers and turns away from the screen, burying his face in the crook of Ashton’s neck.

as the night gets older of you i grow fonder

Luke’s eight when Ashton moves in next door. (based on the video for you belong with me)

coffee shop soundtrack

“Mind if I sit here?” the guy asks, and there’s a kind of apologetic hint to his tone. “Everywhere else is full.” Full? The coffee shop's never full- Oh. Apart from today, apparently. Every single seat is taken. “Oh, Luke says. “Uh. Sure.“

taking the long way home

“May we have your attention for flight BA8227,” the tinny voice of the announcement says, and Ashton’s stomach sinks. They never announce anything he wants to hear; there’s never any we’ve upgraded hardworking and broke session drummer Ashton Irwin to first class, he’s also been given unlimited air miles and a refund on his overpriced tuna melt. “We are sorry to announce that this flight is delayed by approximately seven hours. This is due to unforeseen adverse weather conditions. I repeat-”

if these walls could talk (they’ve seen way too many things)

The announcement comes late, at eight p.m., interrupting radio and TV broadcasts and flashing up on phone screens. Due to the current pandemic, the state is now on mandatory lockdown for three weeks. All citizens have until midnight to return to their places of residence. Those outside after midnight will be subject to severe penalties. Further information to follow. “You have to leave,” Ashton says. “You have to go.” Luke blinks. “They’re locking down the state.”

as he faced the sun he cast no shadow

Ashton doesn’t really realise he’s fallen out of love until it’s happened.

you and i were fireworks that went off too soon (soulmate au)

chapter one ~ chapter two ~ chapter three ~ chapter four ~ chapter five ~ chapter six ~ chapter seven

The tattoos appear one Wednesday night. What’s yours?” Michael demands, sounding beside himself with excitement. Luke frowns. “What’s my what?” “Your tattoo.”

fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet

Luke hates a good ninety-five percent of his job. A solid thirty percent of that comes from the fact that he works as a receptionist at a hotel, which he thinks is possibly the most thankless job humanity could possibly have created. A further ten comes from the fact that his desk is right next to the kitchen, meaning mouth-watering smells are constantly wafting under his nose, and Luke’s not allowed to eat on shift. Fifty-five percent of it, though, is Ashton.

there’s no time for running away now

It’s three a.m., and Ashton’s awake. On the surface, that might not appear to be a problem. And ordinarily, it wouldn’t be - ordinarily, Ashton would either roll over groggily, will sleep to come with every fibre of his being and maybe a quick prayer or two, or read something mind-numbingly boring like his urgent work emails to send him back to sleep. This, however, isn’t the most ordinary situation. Ashton is awake because of Luke.

-------

malum

make me a promise here tonight

“Calum,” Michael says, walking into the bunk area and stopping in front of Calum’s bunk. “Cal.” “What?” Calum asks, not looking up from his phone. “I think we should get married.”

we know this is the way it’s supposed to be

Calum’s always the first person Michael rings in an emergency. Like right now, for example. Right now’s an emergency. “What the fuck do you want, Clifford?” Calum groans, voice tinny through the shitty phone line, but he’s picked up after the first ring so Michael knows he doesn’t mean it. “I need help,” Michael says, trying to stop the phone from slipping down his chest from where it’s pressed between his shoulder and his ear. “Green, blue, or black?“

the first time i’ve seen love (and the last i’ll ever need)

“Tell me a story.” The words are whispered into the fabric of Calum’s shirt, and Calum’s arms tighten around Michael as he hums in response. It’s familiar, the situation, because it’s what Michael always asks for when he’s tired, scared, lonely, or just wants to hear Calum’s voice.

it should be criminal that you could be mine

He can’t help but get a little jealous when Ashton and Luke start properly dating, though. He can’t help but get jealous of the way Ashton’s always taking Luke out for dinner, always holding his hand, always buying him presents, always making these romantic gestures that Michael’s never had from Calum. (or calum’s version of a dinner date)

it always will be you (wherever you are)

It started off as something kind of unnecessary. Calum already had a Twitter account, and he wasn’t someone who was afraid to speak his mind. If he had something to say, he’d say it on his public account. He’d only made the account for when he was in a bit of a shitty mood and wanted to vent or when he had an inappropriate joke that only Michael would find funny.

falling asleep on a stranger

As it is, his bus is running late today and Calum had run all the way to the bus stop from his house (a good two minutes of exercise, at least, which means he’s breathless and almost breaking a sweat by the time he reaches the bus stop) because he’d thought he was late. When he realises, however, that he could have had an extra ten minutes and actually eaten some breakfast, he groans, lets his eyes flutter shut and mutters “fuck me.” “Excuse me?” a surprised voice says, and Calum opens his eyes so fast he thinks he might have accidentally blinded himself. Standing to his left, an amused look on his face, is a boy with fluffy-looking blue hair (blue).

this could be the start of something new

He pushes past throngs of tired-looking businessmen to get into the last carriage, looking around for some seats. He’s not the only one who’s had that idea, clearly, as the last carriage is nigh-on full and Calum has the choice of two seats - one next to a balding man who’s eating what looks to be a tuna sandwich (Calum balks at the very idea) and a tattooed-up-to-hell punk kid with a shock of light pink hair in a suit, jacket on his lap. Calum goes for the latter.

you’re already the voice inside my head

“Michael didn’t say anything, mate,” Luke says, confused. “Yes, he did,” Calum says, exasperated. “I…no, I didn’t,” Michael says slowly. “What the fuck, Mike?” Calum says, perplexed. “I didn’t say it, Cal…I thought it.”

i want to teach you a lesson (in the worst kind of way)

“Who’s that, sir?” Lily asks, jabbing at the window. “The new PE teacher,” Michael says. “He’s cute,” Sarah says, and a couple of the girls nod vigorously. “He’s also twice your age,” Michael says. “Go on, off to your practice rooms.” The girls groan, but one by one pull themselves away from the window and start to wander off. Michael stays by the window, one eye on the girls to make sure they actually go where they’re supposed to and one eye on the new PE teacher, who’s dividing the class up into groups and handing out footballs. He is kind of hot, Michael supposes, if you’re into muscular guys who are clearly good at sports. Which Michael most definitely is.

dancing with the demons (holy spirit, holy spirit)

“You’re kind of a shitty demon,” he tells Calum, who scowls. “Fuck you,” he says. “You’re kind of a shitty angel.” “Oh, dude, I know,” Michael agrees.

only you (and you can hear me)

“Uh,” Calum says, looking out into the crowd, and Michael follows his gaze, trying to find what Calum’s staring at. “I’m going to go to the teepee with Heather.” Michael’s stomach sinks. “Really?” he asks, before he can stop himself, looking over at Calum. “Yeah,” Calum says, turning to look at Michael, and Michael whips back around before Calum can see the look of please don’t written all over his face. “Alright.” (tiny dancer scene from rocketman but happy)

i took a walk with my fame down memory lane (i never did find my way back)

chapter one ~ chapter two ~ chapter three ~ chapter four ~ chapter five ~ chapter six

“Fucking shite,” Liam says, over the sound of the crowd’s growing murmurs. “Would’ve rather watched City fucking lose.” They all know he’s lying. Liam’d probably rather cut off his limbs one at a time than sit at home to watch City get thrashed. It reminds Calum where he is, though, as he takes a sip of his beer with slightly shaky hands. He’s in fucking Manchester, in a dingy bar with two of the biggest pricks he’s ever met in his life, watching shitty bands play mediocre songs to avoid having to watch his football team get massacred by Everton. It grounds him, shakes him out of it, makes him remember that he’s here, in England, not in Sydney, and he’s twenty, not seventeen. That was then, and this is now. But for a moment - just for a few seconds - he could have sworn that then and now were the same thing. Just for one moment, he could have sworn he’d seen Michael Clifford. - or: calum's in oasis and michael's in blur and it's the height of the 1990s britpop war

couldn’t make it more obvious could you (be any more obvious?)

“D’you think he was being serious?” he asks Ashton, who’s already engrossed in his phone again. “Hm?” Ashton says, without looking up. “‘Bout what?” “Jack.” That makes Ashton look up, brow furrowed. “What about him?” Calum hesitates. “Y’know,” he says, a little uncomfortably. Ashton cocks his head, raising his eyebrows in an I don’t know sort of way. “About them. Sleeping together.” “Oh,” Ashton says, shrugs, and turns back to his phone. “Yeah, obviously.”

love would burn this city down for you

There’s something so comforting about the city. Calum remembers the first time he’d got it, that rush of everything and nothing and beauty and reverence as he’d stared out at the brightly-lit scene before him, overwhelmed and trying his best to drink it all in. Fuck me, he’d thought, a delicious numbness licking at his nerves. I’m fucking irrelevant. (It was the first time he’d ever known peace.)

——-

cashton

‘cause all of the stars are fading away (just try not to worry you’ll see them someday)

Growing up isn’t easy. Nobody ever told him it would be. You’ll get hurt, his mum would say, eyes big and sad, and he’d shrug and say that’s life, not really understanding what she meant because he was yet to spend three nights in a row staring up at his ceiling, drunk and high and so miserable it somehow felt like everything and nothing at the same time. It’ll be difficult, his manager had warned, when they got their first tour with One Direction, and Ashton had shrugged and said isn’t everything?, not realising that what ‘difficult’ meant was sacrifice; his sleep, his home, his self, everything torn out at the roots and tossed aside for him to gather back into his arms again. The hardest part of growing up, though, isn’t when things happen to him, when someone breaks up with him or wakes him up two hours after he’s gone to bed or puts him on another plane six hours after he’s just got off one. The hardest part of growing up is when he looks around him and realises I’m not happy.

#ignore this post #also im gonna have to put up posts of the ones that i havent posted on tumblr yet soon #cos rn half of them are just linked to my ao3 #but im gonna space it out bc its annoying #and also i'm going to be very discerning #bc some of them are...to put it politely...RUBBISH #and when i say some of them i mean every single one of them #being proud of things you've written? could never be me

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artsninspo · 5 years ago

Text

PART X - The Hunt

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Author’s Note:

There are some BIG reveals in this chapter. Things are starting to heat up. Hope you’re enjoying - buckle up :)

Reconciling his feelings for Elle was a difficult task. He cared and every time they fucked he wanted more. He’d always needed a certain amount of space and she felt like the perfect intersection between his wants and needs. But he’d never been good at partnership or cared enough to go out of his way for anyone.

He’d let emotion cloud his curiosity for too long, now it was time for answers.

Tre sat in his car for twenty minutes contemplating his meeting. The Italians on the other side of town ran the casinos and a couple of strip clubs. Definitely a place a chump like Kell could get hustled but as far as he knew that kind of violence wasn’t their style. He’d toed the line expertly between the two worlds never getting in to deep to keep outsiders out. His grandmother’s best friend was an underbosses wife. He’d grown up adjacent to some shot callers. It’s how he got his liquor license for the club, equipment to start it up wholesale and an extra line of defence in case anyone tried to fuck him up.

“Tre?” Sal says once he walks in looking tired and unshaven. They were close in age - Sal being a few years older.

“What’s up Sal? Had some things on my mind wanted to know if you had some time?” He asks making note of his surroundings. Sal nods heading into the back while his people watch Tre closely. They sit in the upscale office cutting cigars to have a smoke as custom before getting started.

“Things got a little out of control” Tre speaks.

“I heard a story what’s yours?” Sal asks getting comfortable.

“Lawyers husband gets shot up during museum event. We hear he has a debt. I’m not asking it’s just not what I’m used to”

“What’s your dog in this fight?” Sal smiles, he’d known Tre forever and the whole world could be falling down - Tre wouldn’t bat an eye unless it was affecting his business or causing attention from the cops.

“Black I’ve known you since we were kids, you don’t put your neck out on the line for no one. You’ve never come around unless it’s business. You only spent an hour at my wedding” he lists curiously making black swallow. It was all true. Sal had tried to be there for his friend. His mother and father had extended their home to him when his grandmother died but he didn’t want hand outs. He just wanted to be alone.

“Alan Clarke”

“Ahh, crooked politician” Sal smiles. “What? He doesn’t know the town is impossible to take over?” Sal laughs.

“Kell is his in law, the family is good for money. I just don’t see how he’d run up a debt. I don’t see how it makes sense.” Tre explains.

“I don’t know nothing about it” Sal tells Tre earnestly. “Sounds like I should look into it. Debt gets thrown around and people start looking to us” he swallows.

“It smells bad”

“I agree, it stinks” Sal nods looking Tre over. He admired him. Especially for being mostly on his own. “Alan Clarke” Sal repeats taking a long pull. “He’s good forever and we take care of family”

“Trusting a politician, I’ve always heard the opposite is the smartest course of action”

“It is usually, no one trusts him. The fuck is a coward but he cares about career. He fucked his own daughter over for the family” Sal swallows putting the cigar down.

“Step daughter” Tre corrects.

“You’ve done your research, nice piece of ass” Sal smiles making Tre uncomfortable. He and Elle weren’t together but he wanted nothing more than to check Sal.

“Not completely up on what happened”

“His kid, well she’s a fucking star. She’s fearless and fun. Had a club by the beach. Old Hollywood style. Everyone was there it was such a good time. She could clean liquor and pockets in no time but fuck man, shit didn’t matter because it was the best few hours of your life.” Sal shrugs.

It was news to Tre, he’d heard about the club but never been.

“Anyhow Princess has a business partner, best friend. Business partner was fucking the bosses wife. That’s unforgivable but the bitch lies says it was rape because he drugged her the first time and then threatened to blackmail her the other times” Sal swallows. “Jesse was a piece of shit for screwing her but he wouldn’t rape her. But when you hear that from your wife what are you going to do?” Sal shrugs.

“So he took care of it?”

“We all got there like it was a regular night then guns were drawn. Boss got Alan’s kid and threatened to do to her what he thought was done to his wife. Or let his crew. The kid had heart and didn’t beg, she was pissed. She called Rina every name in the book for lying. We tried to stop it but then she started talking to the boss crazy. Guns were pulled on Jesse. She stopped tears in her eyes she said she’d fuck everyone in there if he didn’t shoot” Sal swallows zoning out and looking ahead.

Tres stomach stirs as he feels sick at the thought of Elle going through anything like that.

“Jesse wouldn’t allow it. Not Princess, not ever. She told the boss he was making a mistake and that his wife couldn’t be trustees she was a lying whore. She told off Jesse for fucking with her. Rina stayed quiet keeping the lie. They had to pry Princess from Jesse. He made them promise nothing would ever happen to her walked to his death like a man.”

Tre looks up at Sal feeling ice in his veins for Elle.

“All in front of the girl?”

“Yeah” he nods taking a sip of his bourbon.

“I mean, the family is tough but if I heard someone threatened to have my daughter fucked by twenty odd guys. I’m not attesting to it being a crime of passion over a rape. Jesse didn’t rape Rina” Sal swallows. “That bitch ruined the only good fun in two hundred miles. Club is shut down and there hasn’t been a party in nine months because of her shit” Sal says with distaste. It’s only his place because the boss is his cousin. “Like I said, nothings happening to Alan or his family”

Tre sits in silence, fucked up was an understatement to describe Elle’s family. They completely fucked her over.

“The girls safety is in my interest” he says shocking Sal who knew Tre was a no attachments kind of guy.

“She’s protected. Boss feels bad about how shit went down. Rina came clean. Her brothers already been here. Her pops, he’s a respectable guy that’s done us many favours in the past” Sal explains.

“I need a favour. I’m looking into it myself but I hear it’s some east side thugs who ran up on the event shooting. I was supposed to be there too. I know your girls are good at getting the truth out of people. I can pay to have two put on these two” Tre says showing pictures of two of his associates.

“Keep your money, we’re family and these idiots are using our name. It’s in our interest to sort it out before the cops do” Sal says causally.

“Thank you” Tre nods.

“Keep in touch, be careful” Sal warns as Tre leaves.

____

Elle was the only one taking the shooting seriously. Dia was back to work within a week and Kizzy back on her bullshit. Leaving Elle with the responsibilities of walking Pet. Kelly’s long haired miniature daschound. She’d been trying to piece everything together on her own with no luck. Sitting on the picnic table watching Pet run around the dog park felt like the only time she’d exhaled in weeks. Pungent cologne gets her attention and she turns to see Luca a man she’d kill in seconds of it wouldn’t endanger the people she loved. She turns looking back at the dogs at he sits, tears welling in her eyes.

“I told you I’m not selling the club and it’s not reopening” Elle swallows.

“This isn’t about the club” he says.

“I told you, we have nothing to talk about until you leave me alone with your bitch wife” Elle snaps recklessly. He could kill her right there and then.

“I’d never allow any of my men to put a hit out on your uncle” he speaks to cover his own tracks.

“What do I owe the honour of your company Luca?” Elle snaps with hostility, not understanding why he was here after everything.

“You ran, ran away to the middle of nowhere. You didn’t tell me who your father was, you always said you didn’t do serious but a man met with my second about your safety.” He explains letting her know ego was involved.

“Luca fuck off, you killed my world.” Elle snaps walking away but he pulls her back.

“I should’ve listened to you. I shouldn’t have said what I said but I am who I am. People aren’t perfect” he iterates using her line. “He had to pay for fucking my wife.”

“She never loved him you know and he adored her” Elle cries wiping her eyes. It’s what broke her heart the most. Jesse finally loved women who he thought loved him back. He was so sure he had what people searched their entire lives for - real love. “I’ve spent months going over it in my head. She knew about us, she knew that you were fucking me Luca. She knew she wasn’t enough to make it stop. She wanted to hurt me. She did. She lied got Jesse killed and made it so I’d NEVER want you again” Elle breathes taking her arm back.

“She isn’t done, she knows you’ve been here. She’s been dialling this area code. Something about a fire, off brand crooks trying to get at you. Blacks been getting between all her efforts”

“Leave Black out of it!” Elle snaps and Lucas expression sours. He tries stomaching the resentment and jealousy.

“He’s fine, he has a lot of love” Luca swallows.

“I don’t understand what her problem is. She has you and she’s still upset?” Elle contemplates enraged.

“I haven’t been with her” Luca says like its supposed to mean something to Elle - like there was a chance she could forgive him. It was never supposed to get so serious. He was a regular and Elle was feeling frisky. She’d always enjoyed games of chicken and high stakes. So what he was married? That didn’t mean much in that world. But Luca caught feelings and spent more nights with his pretty little thing. Neglecting his home. Then to rope her in he got involved with Alans business. He likes the chase as much as Elle likes running.

High risk, high reward.

Nothing else in his life was that carefree. Least of all his marriage. Business seemed easier than that. Rina had never made a fuss about his affairs before but the writing was on the wall about Elle. Her husbands attention wasn’t hers and neither was his love. She’d seen the gifts and attention and decided to fuck them all over for breaking her heart.

But now there were two women scorned.

“Luca!” Elle shouts. “Do us all a favour and either fuck her or kill her. Do me a favour and leave me alone” Elle says picking up the dog and heading to her car.

_____

Authors Note:

Hell hath no fury like a what?

Anyone see this coming when it was first revealed how Jesse was killed? Make sense now why Elles been such a wreck. There are always several sides to a story.

#pulsefc #pulseseries #trevante rhodes x reader #trevante #Trevante Rhodes #trevanterhodesimagine

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aewriting · 5 years ago

Text

Fem/slash February

So... I've been seeing posts about fem/slash February. And one of the things about this fandom that I've really valued is that it has pushed me outside of my comfort zone as a writer. I have written so many different things that I never really thought I could before, and I'm getting new kinds of ideas. This idea hit me last night and wouldn't let me go. It's not exactly fem/slash. It is intimate, though - Maria and Liz having a conversation and exploring self-pleasure together (ideologically and physically).

Warning for sexual situations.

***

“Hey. Hey, Liz.”

Maria watches as Liz’s head jerks up. She can see the exhaustion on her face, the way her eyes are rimmed red, her jaw tight. Upon seeing Maria, Liz relaxes, minutely.

“Hey yourself,” she says, giving a half-hearted smile.

Maria glances around, takes in the scattered takeout containers from the Crashdown, the nearly-empty water bottle. “How long you been down here?”

Liz snorts a little. “Too long, probably.”

Maria casts a level glance her way. “You need a break. Out, now.”

For a moment, Liz looks like she’s going to protest, then stretches her neck, side to side, before looking at Maria. “Fine.”

***

“I’ll drive you back. Later, though.”

Liz nods. They’re in Maria’s truck, the old red one. It’s running better than ever, after her brief… thing with Michael. He’d been attentive, in certain ways. An absolute shitshow in others.

“Why don’t we go to the Pony, have a drink?”

Liz’s mouth tightens. “I’m… no.”

Maria raises an eyebrow.

“It’s just… I’m trying not to. For Rosa.”

Maria nods, looks straight ahead. “I get that. Where is she right now?”

There’s a pause before Liz replies. “Santa Fe, actually. She wanted to see the Georgia O’Keefe museum. Kyle took her.” Liz scoffs a bit, and her tone is wry when she finally speaks again. “Brother-sister bonding, I suppose.”

Maria exhales a long, low breath at that. “Our lives are fucked up.”

“That they are.”

Maria eyes Liz. “How long are they gone?”

“Long weekend, I think.”

Maria nods, half to herself. “Hmm… well I understand if you don’t want to drink, or do anything. But if you did, now could be a chance. She’s out of town, you’re out of that damn bunker. I’ve got all the tequila and weed you could want.” Maria shrugs. “Or, you know, we could just go high school style. Popcorn, chocolate, movies?”

Maria watches Liz suck in her bottom lip, worry it between her teeth. “You know what? Fuck it. All of the above.”

***

“Can you believe this is over 10 years old?” Liz asks as the credits start rolling to The Proposal.

“No,” Maria says, topping off Liz’s cup with more tequila. “You need anything? Ice, lime?”

“Maybe just an IV,” Liz says wryly. “Inject this right in.”

Maria snorts a little. “Doctor Kyle’s in Santa Fe, remember?”

Liz laughs a little. Maria watches her, expression soft. “What next? 10 Things I Hate About You? Sweet Home Alabama?”

“No,” Liz says, too fast, too emphatically. “No… no high school shit.”

Maria nods her understanding. “Yeah… yeah.”

They’re quiet for a while. “Did you ever think, back then – “

“No,” Maria says. “Whatever you’re going to say, no.” She takes a long sip of her glass. “Our lives are a fucking joke right now.”

“I dunno about that,” Liz says, slowly. “Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

And what can Maria do but take another drink, at that?

“I miss him,” Liz says, voice soft. “I miss him, and I hate him, sometimes. Like, what does that say about me?”

“You’re human?”

Liz fixes her with a long look. “He… he fucked up, you know? I want to not miss him. I want to just, like, be able to rage against him and leave everything about him, every memory, in my rearview. How I did after high school. Just get the fuck out and not look back. I mean, I still have my degree, my experience. I… I could start over.” She shakes her head. “But I can’t. I just can’t.” Maria watches Liz, watches her chin as it starts to quiver. “He had no right, none at all…” she trails off, and the tears come. And Maria puts down the glass and holds her.

***

It’s a clear night, with lots of stars and a full moon visible.

“Night like this, in high school? Rosa and I would be getting up to some shit, you know?”

Liz laughs, takes a pull off the joint, passes it back to Maria. “You’re getting up to shit now.”

Maria laughs a little, lets the smoke fill her lungs, spread its warmth. “You never came out with us. Never got into trouble.”

Liz purses her lips. “Nope. Good girl, remember?” She shakes her head. “Lot of good that did me.”

Maria looks at her sharply. “Hey, you got out, remember? Got your degrees, saw different places. Like you wanted.”

Liz’s eyes narrow. She gestures up to the Crashdown billboard. “And yet, here I am.”

Maria looks down. “It’s different. It… it’s different than never leaving. Trust me, I know.”

Liz goes quiet, then. “Did you ever want to? Leave?”

Maria scoffs, passes the joint back to Liz. “Of course I did. But it wasn’t that easy for me. I didn’t have your brains, and Mimi needed the help, at the bar. I mean, if I’d had a real, like, plan, I’m sure she’d have been fine with it, but it’s not like there was anything that compelling for me. Nothing that would make the guilt of leaving feel worth it.”

Liz is staring at her, an odd expression on her face. “You know… you know Isobel got in my head? Right after Rosa?”

Maria looks at her, sharply. “What?”

“Yup,” Liz says, matter-of-fact. “I… I know I wanted to leave, wanted it so bad, but she, she gave the final push. Sent me out of town before we even had the funeral for Rosa.”

“Holy shit,” Maria breathes. “Max?”

“Had no idea.” Liz reaches down for the tequila bottle, then. She looks at Maria before she takes a drink, looking a bit uncertain. “Um… Michael. Michael knew.”

Maria gives a half-snort. “Of course he fucking did.” She shakes her head. “You know, he’d tell anyone who cared to hear it that he hated secrets, couldn’t stand ‘em.”

Liz shrugs a little. “I guess we know why.”

Maria’s feeling loose now, the alcohol and the weed hitting her. There’s something about being up on the roof with Liz, talking about these things…

“Did you know? About him and Alex?”

Liz just shakes her head. “Shit. No. Not, like, the extent of it, you know?”

“Yeah,” Maria says, softly. “I, I mean…” She stares out at the main drag of Roswell, takes it in. “I found out a lot of shit, you know? Stuff I wish I’d known, like, ten years ago.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

They’re quiet, then, an oddly easy silence, just passing the bottle between them. The joint. Without even realizing it, their bodies are pressed against each other, ankle to hip to shoulder. Liz leans her head on Maria. “You… you realize we’ve all fucked an alien now, right? You, me, Alex…”

Maria groans, puts her head in her hand. “Shit, yes. It’s crossed my mind.”

“What a club.”

Liz just blows out a breath, at that. “God I’m wasted right now.”

“Me too, babe.”

“See, this is why I don’t, don’t do… this. I get sad. And, and introspective.” She pauses. “And horny as fuck.” Maria feels her head shake against her shoulder. “God damn you, Max Evans. God fucking damn you.”

And then Maria feels the tears.

***

She’s making Liz drink water. “You’re staying here tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Liz is saying, and she must be out of it, because she’s not even fighting Maria. And then Maria’s tucking her into her bed, getting in next to her, pulling up the sheets over them both.

“You need to throw up? Use the bathroom?”

“No,” Liz says. “Just need… I dunno what I need.” She swallows. “I need him, is all. Wish I didn’t, but, but I do.”

Maria strokes her hair. “What do you miss about him?”

Liz heaves a sigh. “I miss… miss the way he was with me, you know? How he looked at me, cared about me. He… seemed just, like, fucking delighted with me, does that make sense? I mean, I’ve been with plenty of other people, but it’s never been that… that interested, if that makes sense? Like, in me – in what I think, what I do, what I like… all of it. It felt nice, to be wanted like that.”

Maria nods.

“And… and I miss being with him. We had one time, Maria, one fucking time. If I’d have known – “

She trails off, then, and Maria holds her. “We’d have all done different things if we knew what we know now.”

“Yeah,” Liz nods, almost breathless.

“How… how long has it been, for you?” Liz shifts a bit, looks at her. “I mean, it’s been over a year since everything with Max.”

“Yeah.”

“And there’s been no one else?”

“No,” Liz says quickly. “I mean, in this town, who would I even?”

Maria shrugs a little. “Kyle, maybe?”

Liz makes a face. “God, no, after Max it would just seem… just seem wrong to me. Like, like admitting that he’s not coming back, you know?”

“Well, if I can offer any advice,” Maria says. “Don’t… don’t start anything with Michael.”

It gets the desired response, Liz groaning, pushing at Maria. “God, I should smother you for even saying that,” she mutters.

“There’ve been times I’ve wanted to smother myself,” Maria says, shaking her head. “I… He was good, though. With that. Like, working at the Pony all those years, I heard things. Rumors about him. Like, that part? It was good, really good. Sometimes I think, if things had been different…” She trails off. “But they’re not, they’re really not. And, and I don’t know if things will ever be what they were, with me and Alex.” She pauses. “I’d understand if they weren’t.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Liz says. “With Alex, I mean? He… there’s so much I didn’t know about him. Don’t know. He’s had this, like, whole other life, in the Air Force, whole other set of experiences. I mean, even before that, with his dad…” She trails off. “I didn’t know. Like, I knew it was bad, but not…”

“Yeah,” Maria says.

“You think… you think they’ll get it together? Alex and Michael?”

“Hell if I know,” Maria murmurs. “Like, now that I know, like, really know, I don’t know how I ever didn’t.”

“Same,” Liz says. “They’re… it’s not subtle. Like, once you know.”

“I’m an idiot. A psychic idiot with a blind spot about a mile wide.”

“No,” Liz says, shaking her head. “We… I missed it, too.” Her face looks grim. “And from what we know now, about Alex’s dad… well, sounds like the stakes were pretty high.” She pauses. “Michael’s hand. His whole, like, alien investigation.”

Maria’s brow is furrowed. “You know, you leaving? I understood. That’s all you talked about, for years. Like, I was prepared for that. Not for the way it all went down, of course. And the radio silence.” Liz hangs her head. “But Alex? Like, I hoped he’d get out. He wanted it, too. But he should have never joined the Air Force. I… I couldn’t reconcile that, you know?” She blows out a breath. “But it makes sense now, doesn’t it? With his dad? What a monster.”

***

It’s one of those mornings where everything is too much. It’s too loud, it’s too bright… Liz is hungover for the first time in a long time. She smells eggs cooking and wanders into the little kitchen. How many times had she slept over here and woken up to see Mimi at the stove, smiling brightly and scrambling a big pan of eggs for them? She’d always mix cheese in, and fresh herbs if she had them. It almost feels strange to see Maria there today, grown and tired-looking.

“Hey,” Maria says. “You feeling as good as me this morning?”

“Better, I bet,” Liz replies.

Maria laughs, at that. “I think you needed it, though.” She regards Liz out of the corner of her eye. “And you know what else I think you need?”

“Uh oh, what?”

“An orgasm.”

A big, bright laugh escapes Liz. “What?”

“I’m serious, girl. You don’t want to go out and get laid, that’s fine. I get that, after everything you’ve been through. But at least go home, take a shower, get your vibrator, and treat yourself. Like, I’m telling you that as a friend.” Liz is just staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what?”

“It’s just…” Liz bites her lip a little. “I don’t have one.”

Maria looks at her blankly.

“A vibrator. I don’t have a vibrator.”

“Seriously? Um, okay.” She cocks her head. “Well, you can always order a new one. Did you just not bring it here with you? When you moved?”

“No, um…” Liz looks uncomfortable. “God, this feels weird to say, but, but I’ve actually never used a vibrator.”

Maria almost drops the spatula. “You what?”

Liz’s eyes widen, almost comically. “I… I just never, never needed one, I guess?”

Maria is still just gaping at her. “I… what do you do?”

Liz sighs. “I’ve had a boyfriend since I was, like, 16. And it’s not like I was going to have a…” her voice drops, “a fucking vibrator while I was living with my dad, I mean…” Liz stares at Maria. “You know what things were like. My mom had left, Rosa was…” She trails off. “Like, the last thing I wanted was the rock the boat, give my dad any trouble, you know?” She shrugs. “I was the fucking good girl, right? And good girls didn’t have vibrators.”

Maria is staring at her. “But… but you never did?”

“It just… it never came up. Like I said, there was always someone. And you know how men are.” Maria’s eyes narrow. “Their damn egos. About something like this.”

“Not all men, Liz,” Maria says, emphatically. “Like, trust me on this.” She sighs. “Seriously, how… how do you even know what you like? I mean, do you ever… you know?”

Liz laughs a little. “I mean, yeah, but… not that often? And since Max, it’s just… I almost feel guilty. Like, feeling that way. Or taking time away from working on bringing him back. But mostly just feeling… that way, without him.”

Maria bites her lip. Hurriedly, she scrapes the eggs out of the pan into a patterned bowl, wipes her hands. “Wait right here.” Within minutes, she’s back, phone in hand. “I’m ordering you something.”

“Whoa, wait, what?”

“Trust me with this. I’m getting it sent here. So your dad doesn’t accidentally open it and have a goddamn heart attack.”

“Maria –“

“No, Liz, please. Like… please do this for yourself. Actually, wait.” She looks at Liz. “If, if you really don’t want me to do this, I won’t. Like, it’s your call. But I just… you’re my friend, and you’ve been through so much. And, and whether or not Max comes back… like, you’re still you. You still have to live with yourself, and this is a part of you, a part of you that it sounds like you’ve never really let yourself explore. For so many reasons. So… so please, if you’re okay with this, I want to do this for you.”

Liz looks at her for a long moment, then hauls her in, hugs her. “Yes.”

***

“I have something for you.”

Liz looks around the Crashdown. “Oh my god, that was fast.”

Maria nods, a little smile on her face. “It’s at my house. Figured maybe you’d want to swing by after your shift. Wasn’t sure you’d want me to bring it here.”

“Yeah, I’ll come by your place.”

Maria frowns. “Your… your dad, is he around this weekend?”

“Always,” Liz says.

“Hmm…” Maria says, thoughtful. “Would you want to come over to my place? Get some privacy?”

Liz laughs a little. “I dunno. Like, yes? But is that weird?”

“No weirder than me buying you a vibrator.”

“That’s fair. Let’s do it.”

***

They’re in the living room, opening the nondescript cardboard box.

“It looks so… benign,” Liz says.

“Well, it’s a personal massager. You’re going to be giving yourself a foot rub, right?”

“Of course,” Liz says, faux-serious. “This… this what you use?”

Maria smirks. “I mean, I have a few. But yeah, this is one of them.”

“Hmm…” Liz murmurs. “Something tells me we are going to have to have a chat sometime. Woman to woman. About what you’ve gotten up to these past ten years.”

Maria smiles. “I have a feeling you’ve got stories, too.”

“I do.” She sighs. “This… this was really nice of you, Maria. I… I’ve missed this. Us. Our lives have been just, so, so insane this last year. Even before that, really. And this… I never really talked about this, with anyone. It’s, it’s nice to know I can. With you.” Liz looks thoughtful. “I mean, I’m a scientist. But growing up… Catholic. Church every Sunday. Everything was wrong. A sin. Especially stuff like this. You don’t… you don’t just forget that, you know?”

Maria crosses to her, embraces her. “It was so different for me, with my mom. She was always so… so open about shit like this. Pleasure. The female body. It was like, like a celebration.” She smiles fondly. “I miss her so much sometimes.” Maria tightens the hug. “She always liked you, Liz. So much. She’d want this for you.”

“I want it for me, too,” Liz says, softly.

Maria kisses her, once, on the side of the head.

“Then go.”

***

Liz showers. Puts on lotion. Pulls on a robe. Lays a clean towel down – it’s not her bed, after all. Turns on some music. Looks at the vibrator. Walks around the room. Looks at the vibrator again.

“Maria?”

She hears footsteps, then a knock. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, come in.”

Maria cracks the door, steps in. She must see Liz’s stricken face, because she crosses the room quickly, sits next to her on the bed. “What is it?”

Liz sighs, leans back. “I… I’m in my head. I just can’t… like, why does this feel so hard to do? It should be easy.”

“But it’s not. And that’s okay.”

Liz sighs, so deeply. “I just keep thinking about Max, and the last time we were together, and I get so, so damn sad. Maybe I’m not ready for this yet.”

“Maybe not. Or maybe…”

“What?”

“Maybe you just need to think about it differently. Like, like an experiment. A trial. Or…”

“What?”

Maria bites her lip. “This… this might sound super weird.”

“Um, you bought me a vibrator, that I am about to use. In your bed.” Liz raises an eyebrow. “After my boyfriend, who was an alien, died resurrecting my sister. Like, I think we’re way, way beyond weird.”

“Very fair,” Maria says, firmly. “But, ah, my mom, she told me that in the 70’s, there was this movement. Pro-body stuff. Women getting together and, and looking at themselves. Looking at each other. Down there. Like, not porn or anything like that, just, like, sisterhood. Normalizing it. Like the reality of it, you know? Almost… almost sacred.”

“Sacred…” Liz murmurs. “I like that.”

“Yeah,” Maria says. “And, like, learning. Learning how to bring pleasure to themselves. For no one else. Just, like, for them. No, no pressure. And no shame, either. Solidarity.”

“Solidarity.” Liz swallows. “What are you suggesting?”

Maria reaches out. Strokes her hair. “You want me here? Like, moral support? I… I could even do it too, if you want? With mine? We could do it together. Just for us.”

Liz is quiet. Nods. “For us. Just for us.”

***

It’s a little weird. It is. Liz never imagined she’d be getting herself off in Maria’s bedroom, candles lit, Maria next to her. The smells, the sounds… it’s so intimate, maybe the most intimate she’s ever been with anyone without actually touching.

And it’s powerful, so powerful. She shakes and cries. Resists, almost, at first. Rages… how could she have never done this before? What stopped her from thinking this was something she could do, something that was okay to do? Maria hears her breathing, her noises, soothes her.

“Just focus on your body, Liz, focus on how you feel.”

And it helps. She’s out of her head, where she seems to live her whole damn life, and into her body.

“Breathe, Liz. Just breathe and feel.”

So she breathes. She feels.

“It’s different, different from being with someone else, different from your own hand. Just, just allow it. Let it happen. Just focus on the feeling and relax.”

And god help her, she does. For the first time in over a year, since she was in Max’s bed, she lets herself go. Lets herself feel.

She feels the familiar build, and that tip, that decision point where she either fights it or, like Maria says, allows. She breathes, she relaxes, and she allows.

And there it is, that feeling she’s chased for years with partners, that tightening and release, the warm surge of relief that courses through her. She can’t stop her cry, and it pulls a warm laugh out of Maria, too. Oddly enough, it’s that laugh that relaxes her the most, lets her laugh, too. Then cry.

Maria finishes not long after, glances over at Liz, and smiles. “Well… that was a first.”

Liz grins at her, so relieved. “Yes. Thank you. I… I never would have done this on my own.”

Maria gives a small smile. “I don’t know about never… but I’m glad I helped. I…I just want you to care about yourself, Liz. And it’s just seemed like, for this last year, you haven’t.”

“I haven’t,” Liz affirms. “But you make me want to start.”

#my fic #liz ortecho #maria deluca #mention of malex #femslash february #roswell nm

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astrozones · 5 years ago

Text

Sanders Behavioral Health; Chapter 5: Virgil’s Assumptions

hey gays I’m Aster and I’m actually posting woah. it’s also on ao3 which is where I post as soon as it’s out so.

uhhhh discord- Astro’s Zone

yeethaw-

ANGST AHEAD

Virgil found himself in front of the door to Roman’s house, which was, frankly, ginormous . His house was almost as dramatic as he was, for God’s sake! He shuffled around at the doorstep, working up the courage to ring the doorbell.

He just had to force himself to do it! Just reach out and press the button, no regrets!

He pushed the button.

Regrets.

Roman had probably been kidding- right? They weren’t even friends yet, why would he have invited him? Well, technically Patton had invited Virgil and Logan to Roman’s house, which was confusing in itself, but that wasn’t the point, the point was-

The door opened, Roman standing in front of him with a smile, but was quickly pushed aside as Patton launched at Virgil, trapping him in a hug.

“MY SON HAS ARRIVED~” Patton shouted, arms tight around Virgil. Roman looked amused.

“I- ok I guess we’re doing the son thing- erm, can I breathe? Please?” He wheezed out. Patton let him go, cheery disposition not faltering in the slightest.

“Patton got here about 10 minutes ago, Logan has yet to arrive,” Roman started. “You’re welcome to come in.”

“Ah, right.” Virgil skirted around the boys and into the house. He looked around.

It had a very, well, home-ly feel to it. The windows allowed a few streams of light into the room, and a viewing of the sunset. The floor was mostly carpeted, from what he could see, and he was standing on the few bits of wooden floor there were. He assumed he was supposed to take his shoes off- or, wait, what if he was wrong?

“I think I understand why you’re so dramatic, now.” He said bluntly, turning to face Roman, who looked sheepish.

“Yeah, this place is pretty dramatic. My parents work a lot and are very stressed, so they like to have somewhere nice to return to. I’m really grateful I have all this, really, even if- well now I’m rambling!” he laughed. “You can take your shoes off and we can wait for Logan before I show you around?” he offered. Virgil nodded.

Roman told him to deposit his items in the corner of the living room as they waited. None of them said anything, just stared at random corners in the room waiting for someone else to peep up.

Virgil stood and walked over to the fireplace, which had a few books on the mantel. Virgil picked up a book that was titled 'The Hospital Is No Place To Meet Future Boyfriends' by Queen_Whovian_And_Everything_Else555. Well that's a weird pen name for a professional author , he thought. He shrugged it off.

He noticed other books like ‘Waste Away’ from NicoAndTheNineGalaxies, and ‘April Fool’s (Would You Be So Kind) by TiredPanAndNotAFan. Okay, clearly either Roman or his parents had a weird obsession with weird author pen names.

“I didn’t know you could read, Roman,” he commented, looking over yet another book with a strange author. He smirked as he heard Roman splutter behind him.

“Hey! I totally read! Those’re my parents’ books though. Mine are in my room.” he explained. Virgil shrugged.

“If you insist,” was all he got to say before the doorbell rang again. Patton nearly flew to the door to greet Logan, Roman following at a much slower pace. Virgil would’ve stayed in the living room, but followed them because, well, anxiety .

Patton bounced around a very confused Logan, screaming about how ‘the whole family is here!’ Virgil was glad to be the one viewing the Magic (or Insanity, depending on who you ask) of Patton, rather than be on the receiving end.

“If we’re all a family, excluding Roman, then why don’t we share the same last name?” Logan asked, trying to prove a point. It was a futile attempt.

“Well than we can make up a last name!” Patton dragged Logan into the house. “Why not Sanders! Get it? Cause we all go to Sanders Behavioral Health!” he giggled. Logan sighed, shaking his head.

“If you say so, Logan Sanders,” Virgil smirked. Logan glared.

“Aaaaanyways do y’all want me to show you around or are we just gonna stand here?” Roman interrupted. Logan physically cringed, but nodded.

And with that, they were off.

—

“Jesus Christ,” Virgil sighed, falling onto Roman’s bed. “I thought that ‘little’ tour was never gonna end!”

Roman snickered, letting the others into the room. “Yeah, it’s pretty large, my parents kinda just want the best for me… Sorry, that was a bit rude, wasn’t it?” Roman shook his head.

“Anyway, we’ll probably hang out here for most of the day, but we only have one guest room, so I was thinking 2 stay here and the others in the guest room? I mean, I’m claiming a spot for this room, so one more here and… yeah” Roman finished awkwardly.

“‘m not moving from this spot for at least a day,” Virgil mumbled, fiddling with the blanket he was on top of. Patton and Logan nodded, content with this plan.

“The guest room is similar to this, with a king sized bed as well, so it should be pretty comfortable for you guys!” Roman grinned at the two. “I’ll lead you back there, and you can get yourselves situated.”

“I’m staying here,” Virgil said immediately, causing Roman to laugh. They all chatted for a few minutes before the others left the room.

And Virgil was alone with his thoughts.

Maybe they had left him on purpose, maybe they were already bored of him. He heard Roman’s laughter from down the hall, and he shrunk into his hoodie.

Distraction- Find a distraction, Virgil.

He glanced around Roman’s room. He had… a lot of Disney posters, to say the least. A lot of musical posters in general, really. A Disney poster for just about every movie they had, even the more obscure ones. And the musical posters varied, from Mamma Mia! to Avenue Q, and Chicago to School of Rock.

Damn. To say he loved musicals would be an understatement.

Virgil walked over to the bookshelf that Roman, surprisingly, actually , had. He scanned the titles, finding a huge collection of fairytales. If they weren’t actual fairytales, they were twisted fairytales, he could only assume. With titles like ‘The Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister’ and ‘My Name is Rapunzel’.

The few titles he did recognize were The Lunar Chronicles, a story following Cinder, who was essentially Cinderella if she was a cyborg, overthrowing a dystopia with other fairytale characters. The only reason he recognized that was because he had seen so many people reading it at school that he had eventually decided to pick up the book himself.

Virgil fiddled with his hoodie strings, needing to do something that wasn’t crushing his head between the bookshelf and the wall behind it. He flopped down on Roman’s bed.

He couldn’t really describe why he had the impulse to do that. It was, to say the least, disturbing. But he could hardly think when the buzzing in his head was so loud. It was like a bundle of thoughts trying to push its way out, begging to be released.

He felt annoyed that the only word he knew how to describe it with was buzzing, but he couldn’t think of anything else, just that it was there and it wasn’t right and it mentally hurt .

Virgil closed his eyes and just… well, he existed . He tried to push the thoughts and buzzing out of his head by just letting go and focusing on the world, focusing on the little things that made him happy. Like outer space, like reading, like getting into a pool at just the right temperature on a hot day. Simple things. Simple, distracting things.

He was having a hard time resisting the urge to use the harsh edge of the table beside him to cut his arm open.

He was fine, he was safe, he was okay .

And okay was an okay thing to be.

—

He was almost asleep by the time the others returned. The moment the door slammed open, he was sitting straight up and panicked.

!!!TOO LOUD!!!!!!

“Jesus Christ,” he started, rubbing at his eyes, trying not to let the panic show. His heart was going a mile a minute. “Warn a guy, yeah? I was almost asleep because you took so long.”

“Well jeez, so rry I’m not psychic!” Roman jumped on the opposite side of the bed, the impact nearly causing Virgil to fly off his end. He glared at Roman, who smirked.

“So, what are we supposed to do until we sleep?” Virgil asked. Roman shrugged, and Logan looked indifferent.

Patton, however, bounced on his feet.

“Why not hide and seek? This place is big enough to have a lot of places to hide in! It could be fuuuuuun!”

Logan sighed, “I’m not particularly interested in playing children’s games.” was all he said. Roman fixed him an accusatory stare, which caused Logan to groan, before agreeing to play.

Err… what?

Both Roman and Patton badgered him to join their game, and after a few minutes, Virgil relented, on the contract that he could be the seeker. He was not about to squeeze himself into a small space for an undetermined amount of time today, thank you.

They established a couple rules- no going outside the house, no revealing other’s spots, and they weren’t allowed to move many items, or they might break something.

They made a system where every participant would text Virgil once they were hidden, because they weren’t sure how many seconds were needed to hide in the obnoxiously large home.

Virgil had to wait in Roman’s room once more until everyone was hidden. He even had to switch his notifications on (he usually had them off so they wouldn’t ring at inopportune moments. It was a valid fear, okay? He had notifications on for a lot of YouTubers.) just for this game. He hoped to a God he didn’t believe in that he remembered to switch them off before he went to sleep.

About 10 minutes later, he finally got the notification from Roman (the last one who had found a spot) that he was ready. He waited for a couple seconds more, the bed was so comfortable, before forcing himself up and out of the room.

He walked down the hallway to a railing at the end, overlooking one of the living rooms. From his vantage point of two floors up, he couldn’t see anyone, but that still was no certainty. Years of anxiety had forced him to check every place, and it was time to finally use that for something good.

He walked into a few more rooms, overanalyzing every place one could hide, even the more obscure ones. Nothing.

Virgil found himself in Roman’s mother’s room. Roman had only mentioned it on the tour, as with most of the rooms, saying, ‘My dad snores too much so my parents sleep in separate rooms.’

It was clean, not a speck of dust to be found, not a thing out of place.

At first glance, at least.

Virgil shuffled through the room, checking under the bed, that was a lot of bottles , and in the closet, where he only found a bunch of family photos shoved into a corner.

There was an apology note for Roman, dated 4 days prior, because apparently his parents were extra, too.

He knew he shouldn’t read it, but… his curiosity told him he had to, and it was right there and there were no good excuses for it, but he did it anyway.

The letter’s contents included Roman’s mother apologizing for not being able to be there that day, telling Roman he was a good son, and that she was so, so, sorry for not appearing until the next day. It was signed with a heart.

Roman really had life going for him, didn’t he?

Virge couldn’t help but feel jealous. Roman had all of this, the whole house, anything he wanted, supportive parents, everything. While Virgil had grown up being pushed around and suffering, Roman was probably laughing and getting presents every day. It just didn’t feel fair.

Why was Roman in therapy, anyway?

It didn’t add up. He was likeable, extroverted, fit, had kind parents, rich, and if Virgil was being honest, not bad looking in the slightest. So why was he there with the kids who had extreme issues?

Maybe… maybe he had lied to get into the group, lied to get attention .

∨İгｇ¡🇱 ωαડ Ｓ໐, 🇸๏ ш🇷०በ🇬.

He pushed his thoughts away with a sigh, giving the room a final once-over before leaving, closing the door behind him.

One more down, an insane amount of rooms left to go.

—

10 minutes later, he found Patton had contorted himself into an empty kitchen cupboard. It took 5 minutes to help him get back out.

They chatted while Virgil searched, Patton was very careful not to give anyone away, to Virgil’s chagrin.

—

After searching for what felt like 30 minutes, they still had no clue where Logan or Roman were. Virgil slumped against the door to Roman’s room with a sigh, thumping his head on the wood.

“Y’think we can just hang here until one of them gives up?” he asked. Patton shrugged, causing Virgil to groan.

They chatted about nothing for a few more moments, before Virgil decided to speak up against something that had plagued his mind since he left Roman’s mom’s room.

“Not to sound rude but, do you think… Maybe Roman’s faking it? Like of course there’s a chance he isn’t, but, looking around, don’t you think it’s a ‘lil suspicious? He’s got everything he wants and he acts so happy all the time and… I dunno…” he finished awkwardly.

“I don’t know, Virgil, but I doubt it. Why would he want to fake being in therapy?”

“To laugh at us! To laugh at those of us who are actually suffering!” Virgil spat. Patton backed away a few steps.

“Calm down a bit there, kiddo… I’m sure Roman has issues of his own, just because it isn’t on the surface doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

Virgil allowed himself to be calmed down, Patton giving him an awkward side-hug once he had. 5 minutes later, they were participating in the game once more.

—

The room had thin walls.

—

Virgil eventually found Logan in the basement that Roman hadn’t shown them on the tour. Logan explained he had noticed the door and, seeing that Roman hadn’t explained it, decided to investigate.

Virgil groaned at his own stupidity.

—

When Virgil had finally found Roman, it was when he had completely given up.

“Y’know what? Fuck this,” he said, ignoring Patton’s disappointed stare. “I give up! I really do! Roman must know some weird, obscure hiding place that he didn’t show us. So yeah, I’m giving up.” Virgil threw open the door to Roman’s room and-

Roman was there.

Roman was there , lounging on his bed, phone in hand, and looking at them expectantly.

Oh, for the love of God-

“What took you so long?” he snickered, sitting up to face them. Virgil stammered to find the words he was looking for, and might as well include the right emotions he was trying to wrangle up, too.

“You- I- Found you.” He finally got out. Roman smirked.

“Nuh-uh! Thin walls!” he knocked on the wall behind him. “I heard you say that you gave up!” Virgil groaned.

“How long were you in here, anyway?” Logan asked. Roman smiled.

“I snuck in here after Virgil disappeared into another room! I’ve been chilling here ever since.”

For a reason Virgil couldn’t figure out, Patton looked concerned, and guilty.

—

After the game, Roman roped them all into watching Disney movies, which was no surprise to Virgil considering the amount of posters.

Virgil was a bit of a Disney fan himself, but he wasn’t going to let that slip out to these strangers, surely they’d make fun of him for it.

One might think that Virgil was being stupid for forgetting that the only reason they had been watching them in the first place was because Roman forced them to. But anxiety was a pull, constantly overanalyzing the most simple things and underanalyzing the more complex. It wasn’t a case of ‘this is a bad thing, I should be anxious’, it was ‘this could be a bad thing, I should be anxious. So many things can go wrong’.

And that could was warped into will, no longer a maybe, but a definite, no matter how the situation actually happened.

It wasn’t fun in the slightest.

—

It was quiet.

Near silent, if it weren’t for the crickets chirping outside.

Patton and Logan had long since left the room to go to sleep. That left Virgil laying on the side of the bed he had claimed, silently scrolling through Tumblr, and Roman to get ready to sleep.

Roman had been staring at himself in the mirror for 10 minutes before Virgil took notice.

“You must really like yourself, huh?” Virgil deadpanned. This only supported his theory.

“Wha-” Roman jumped and spun around as he spoke, hand on his chest. “Oh, um… not really- WAIT I mean- uh- mOVinG On!” He cut himself off before glancing at the mirror once more.

Wait , he thought. I’ve been a dumbass, haven’t I?

Virgil made a lot of assumptions.

Just because the mental diagnosis isn’t obvious doesn’t mean it’s not still there!

“‘s there any like… weird hidden areas you know of ‘round here?” Virgil asked. Roman turned back to him, thinking.

“Wanna hang out on the roof?”

—

“I’M GONNA FALL!” Virgil shouted, clutching onto the gutter as if it were his only hope for survival. Roman snickered.

“C’mon, I’ve done this for years!”

“ We are three storeys high you bitch!”

—

Through a hefty amount of consoling, Virgil had finally reached the top of the roof, sitting on a small part of the roof that was flat, and clutching onto the chimney.

“So you’ve done this since you were a child ?” He asked. Roman was spread out on the slanted roof, seemingly indifferent to the fact that one wrong move could send him to his death.

“Mhm. I was the more adventurous type, if you couldn’t tell.” Roman glanced at him with a smirk. “But yeah. I find it calming up here, nothin’ to disturb ya but the wind. Plus, the stars are pretty.”

Virgil wouldn’t help but agree.

“Didn’t take you for a space nerd,” he said. Roman turned back to face the sky.

“I’m not, really. It’s just pretty. The most I really know about is galaxies, because they’re beautiful, really. I recommend looking up the Rose Galaxy, it’s my favorite… sorry, I’m rambling.” Roman laughed awkwardly. “But other than that, I don’t know much. Just the names of a few beautiful places.”

“That’s better than nothing,” Virgil supplied. Roman hummed. “I like planets, personally. ‘Coulda guessed your favorite was based around roses though.” he laughed. Roman smiled.

“The whole Disney thing kinda gives it away.” Virgil added.

“I hate that you aren’t wrong. Floriography has always been an interesting topic for me. But to be fair, roses have different meanings based off of the color.” Roman sat up, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but was holding back. So, Virgil acted on a whim.

“How so?”

It was like setting off a glitter bomb. Roman turned to him, and Virgil could practically see the stars in his eyes.

“WELL! Of course red roses mean love, yellow roses are for jealousy, pink is grace and elegance! Blue’s mystery, peach for gratitude, and purple are for pride and enchantment.” Roman paused for a second, calming himself down. “And I need some christmas roses.”

“What’re christmas roses?” he asked. Roman smiled. In his rant, he had scooched over towards Virgil, not enough to invade his space, but just enough that he was able to whisper,

“Well, I thought it fit well with the whole therapy thing,” he started. “But christmas roses mean relieve me of my anxiety.”

“Bitch I need some too!” Virgil said before nearly falling off the roof by laughing.

—

“I refuse to die crawling down a roof!”

“Well how else are you gonna get down, then?”

“I won’t. This is my home now. Just throw some food up here every now and then and I’ll be golden, because I am not falling off a roof .”

“Oh my god ,”

—

The beauty of a king sized bed, he found out, was that two, maybe three people, could fit on it without even having to be close to the other.

Virgil went to bed without even changing his clothes, a nasty habit he had picked up. He stared at the wall, willing his brain to recognize that it was time to sleep.

He felt Roman start shifting on the other end, another insomniac, before he spoke up.

“And I oop- OW !”

Taglist because apparently I have that now:

@too-attached-to-fiction

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noona-clock · 5 years ago

Text

Not Tonight

If request are still open could you possible doing some Youngjae(got7) fluff please? Thank you

You sent this one in just before I closed them, anon - just in time! I hope you like what I came up with!

Genre: College!AU

Pairing: Youngjae (Got7) x You

Warnings: Mentions of drinking/alcohol and kidnapping

Words: 2,212

You were waiting for just the right moment.

It was Friday night, and you were out at a local diner with all of your friends. It had started as a casual hangout dinner, but now that the sun had gone down, the conversation had segued into talks of going out.

‘Going out’ as in going to a bar (or two or five) and getting drunk.

You had no qualms whatsoever with your friends drinking to excess, especially on a Friday night. You were all college students, after all, and it was the weekend. As long as they were responsible and didn’t get behind the wheel or make any other really terrible decisions, you really didn’t care.

...It just wasn’t your thing.

You’d never been into drinking; the first time you tried a cocktail, you legitimately almost spit it out. From all the television shows and movies you’d watched growing up, you imagined alcohol tasted like sugar or something absolutely delicious.

It was the opposite.

You were over the legal drinking age now, and you’d found your taste for alcohol really hadn’t changed. It made you shudder because it tasted so bad, and you would honestly just prefer to drink soda. Or water.

So, as your friends were discussing which bar to go to first and how many of them could fit into one Lyft, you knew this was the right moment you had been waiting for.

“Not six,” you piped up after one friend had counted everyone sitting at the table. “Just five. I’m heading home after we get the check.”

“Again?”

“Oh, come on!”

“Just once, Y/N. Once!”

“Just try it, you might have a good time!”

You knew yourself.

You would not have a good time.

You would sit in a corner drinking a Jack and Coke without the Jack, and you would be wishing you were anywhere else.

And by ‘anywhere else,’ of course, I mean at home. In your bed. Watching Netflix.

You were used to your friends giving you crap about being an introverted homebody, but you wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t totally bother you.

They thought going out to a bar and getting drunk every weekend was fun. You did not.

Did you try and convince them to stay home and have a movie marathon with you? No.

Did they try and convince you to go out and drink too much alcohol with them? Yes.

How was that fair?!

If there was one thing you could change about your life, you would want a friend -- just one -- who understood you and accepted you for who you are. Who didn’t try and make you go outside of your comfort zone when you didn’t want to.

After a few minutes of light-hearted arguing, you paid your diner tab and pushed open the glass door. The warm almost-Summer breeze skimmed over your cheeks as soon as you stepped outside, and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a soft sigh of relief.

Even though you loved spending time with your friends, you were more than glad to get some alone time. You’d just spent the whole week studying for finals, going to class, working on projects and papers. And now it was time to relax.

Rather than get out your phone and request a ride back to your apartment, you decided to walk home. The diner was right on the edge of campus, and your apartment building was less than a mile away, on the East side. Even though you normally wouldn’t feel comfortable walking alone as the sky grew increasingly darker, it was a Friday night in a college town. There were more than enough people out and about to witness an abduction -- or better yet, prevent one from happening.

You also had your phone in hand and a spray can of mace in your bag, so that helped, too.

And, for the first five minutes or so of your walk, you didn’t feel uncomfortable walking alone as the sky grew increasingly darker.

But then you heard footsteps behind you.

It wasn’t necessarily cause for alarm, of course, because it was probably just someone else walking home. Like you.

You still glanced over your shoulder, though, because -- why wouldn’t you? You didn’t look quite long enough to discern a face, but you noticed right away it was a guy.

Again -- not a cause for alarm just yet... but, still. You were glad you did have your phone and mace on standby.

Just in case.

After a few more minutes of walking, your slight worries had honestly left your head, and you had almost forgotten there was someone else walking behind you.

But then you turned a corner.

And the guy behind you turned the same corner just moments later.

Yes, it was totally possible that he simply lived near the same building as you.

Yes, it was totally possible that he was a college student just like you and not a stalker.

But you still turned around to get a better look at his face, and while you did learn he was pretty good-looking, you also learned you did not recognize him.

So... he was probably a stalker. And you picked up your pace.

To your panicked dismay, you heard his footsteps quicken, too.

Instinctively, you reached into your bag, your fingers grasping the cool metal of the mace can in case you needed to use it. And you also began walking even faster.

But, as a true stalker who is planning to kidnap you would, the guy began walking even faster, as well, his footsteps now almost more hurried than yours.

With a very furrowed brow, you glanced yet again over your shoulder, your heart suddenly pounding as you saw he was getting closer to you.

Thankfully, you were getting closer to your apartment building. Security and safety were just a couple of blocks away, so all you had to do was walk as quickly as you could until you got there.

And not get kidnapped.

That was pretty important.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your posture (to show the potential attacker you were confident and not afraid even though you definitely were at this point) and half-walked, half-jogged down the sidewalk toward your apartment.

But, of course, the thud of his footsteps became quicker, as well.

Your gaze focused on the door of your building, and you tried to ignore the rising sense of panic in your heart and stomach as the outline of the doorway became larger and larger.

When you finally became within reach, you flung your arms outward and pushed open the front door almost frantically.

You almost screamed when you felt someone come up right behind you, a pair of hands helping you open the door.

Before you could make heads or tails of the situation, the guy was practically herding you into the foyer, his sense of panic almost palpable.

But why was he panicked?!

You should be the one panicked here! He was following you, getting ready to abduct and do who-knows-what to you!

“What -- who are you?!” you cried, flattening yourself against the wall in the entryway and trying to control your breathing.

The guy had now barricaded himself against the front door, but rather than staring at you menacingly... he was staring out through the small window of the door.

“What did you see?!” he asked breathlessly.

“...What do you mean what did I see?” you replied with more than slight confusion.

“You kept looking back and then walking faster,” he explained, his nose still pressed to the window. “What did you see?”

...What was going on?

“I --” you stammered. “I saw... you!”

The guy’s head suddenly reared back, and he turned to face you.

Even though the expression on his face was one of extreme perplexity, you found your earlier assessment had been correct: he was good-looking.

“Me?” he asked innocently. “What are you --”

“I thought you were following me!”

He stared at you for a few awkwardly silent moments before his expression fell into one of great relief.

“I thought there was -- no, no, I wasn’t -- I was just walking home,” he explained, chuckling.

You blinked, shifting your gaze around the foyer to make sure you had entered the correct building.

“....You live here?” you asked skeptically.

The guy smiled nervously before nodding. “Yes, I live here.”

...Was he sure? Because you’d never seen him before.

Not that you knew every single person who lived here, but you were pretty positive you’d seen everyone at least once.

And, if you’d seen this guy before, you would have remembered him.

Obviously, he could read your thoughts on your face because his eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. “I just moved in at the beginning of the semester. I transferred here, and this was one of the only places available.”

You simply stared at him but not because you didn’t believe him... you just weren’t sure what to say. Not too long ago, you’d thought he was stalking you. And now you knew he was actually your neighbor.

So... you were kind of mortified.

To make matters worse, he stuck his hand out toward you. “I’m Youngjae, and I’m really sorry if I scared you.”

You reached your own hand out hesitantly, sliding it into his and shaking it gently. “No, it’s -- it’s okay,” you assured him quietly. And not confidently at all. “I let my -- it’s fine. I’m Y/N.”

Youngjae let out a soft breath, his smile growing and wow.

You had never seen someone with a smile quite like that.

Even though a small voice in the back of your head was telling you that sunshine smile was just a tactic he used to make his victims feel safe (and oh my god you really had to stop watching so many true crime documentaries), you instantly felt more at ease.

“I’m sorry I thought --” you began, reaching up to timidly tuck some hair behind your ear. “I watch too many true crime documentaries.”

A whisper of a chuckle left Youngjae’s lips, and you rolled your eyes to poke fun at yourself.

“Why were you walking by yourself at night, though?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern.

Ah. Here it came. The judgment.

“I... was eating dinner with my friends, and they wanted to go out, but I wanted to come home, so --”

“Yeah, me too,” Youngjae said.

You paused instantly at his words, your eyes widening with surprise.

“You... don’t like to go out and drink either?”

He shrugged in response, and your sense of ease and comfort settled even further over you.

“Really?” you asked, unable to hide your excitement.

At your tone, Youngjae looked just a bit puzzled, but he still answered you. “I would rather just watch Netflix and not wake up with a pounding headache tomorrow morning.”

“Me too!” you cried.

To be honest, you had never met someone who admitted that. All of your friends would choose a night of partying over a night of Netflix (unless it was Netflix and Chill with some dude from their Chem lab, but you weren’t particularly about that life, either).

“I’m sorry, I know I sound really excited,” you added, your lips stretched into a huge grin. “But I really thought I was the only one on the whole campus who didn’t like to party.”

“No,” Youngjae answered with a shake of his head. “You’re not.”

“Wow. This is -- I mean, this is awesome. I am so glad you’re not a stalker.”

Youngjae burst out laughing at that, and your heart leaped up into your throat. You’d thought his smile had been wonderful, but his laugh was on another level entirely. It stirred up a kind of strange feeling in you -- but strange in a good way.

It told you that you wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of your life.

But not tonight.

“Listen, please don’t take this the wrong way,” you began. “I would actually really like to get to know you, but I’m not going to invite you up to watch Netflix with me. I don’t want to be around people tonight. I mean, that’s why I --”

“I don’t want to either,” Youngjae agreed. “But I would like to get to know you, too.”

A shy smile tugged at your lips as you took a step toward the elevator, Youngjae following suit.

“Maybe... tomorrow?” you suggested with raised eyebrows. “Or whenever. Finals are coming up, so I know it’s a busy time --”

“Tomorrow works.”

As you reached over to push the button to call the elevator, you couldn’t stop yourself from -- first of all, smiling like an idiot. Second of all, from wondering how in the world your night had gone from being sick of your friends judging your introvertedness to being scared you were going to be kidnapped to being thrilled at having met someone just like you and possibly getting to know him better and hanging out with him tomorrow and potentially hearing his laugh for the rest of your life.

Strange how life works out sometimes, huh?

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