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mrsbrookegillespie · 4 years ago

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+Homework+ Luke x Fem!Reader

(Not My Gif)

Description:When Y/N’s progress report comes out it seems as though their mom isn’t happy with the letters that follow each subject. So when they have to cancel on her friends band rehearsal to do their assignments it leads to an interesting encounter with the brunette guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms.

Warning: Stress, school, bad grades, mild angst, mostly fluff.

+Homework+

Luke is not someone to judge another for having bad grades, considering what his report cards looked like, and the fact he dropped out of high school at seventeen. But, Y/N has two more years left in school, despite her age, and frankly… She’s struggling. “What’s this?” her mother asks, showing her an email.

“Those are… My grades?” Y/N shrugs, avoiding the small letters that labeled her as dumb, and lazy.

“Y/N! You need to start getting serious about this. You’re going to flunk out!” Y/N internally winces at her mother shouting at her. “I’m very disappointed about this…”

“Well,” Y/N starts. “I’ll do it!” She bites her lip, sliding away from her desk. “Tomorrow,” she adds, looking at the time. “I promised Julie I’d watch band practice today.” Her mom gives her a blank stare.

“Y/N! We’ve been very laid back with you, you’ve never been grounded or anything, but right now I want you to stay at home, and get your missing work done.”

“But--”

“No!”

Her mom closes the door on the way out, leaving Y/N feeling the stress of school. She grabs her phone, clicking Julie’s contact. “Hey! Are you almost here?” Julie asks.

“I can’t make it…” Y/N breathes out.

“What?!” Julie exclaims. “But, you promised to be here today, we’re performing tomorrow, you know?” The disappointment radiates through the phone.

“I know! And I will be there for that, because that’s really important, but I just can’t make it today.” Y/N is too embarrassed to say the reason why. Julie has amazing grades, and is insanely talented, and she might be a little jealous of that, mostly because she gets to spend extra time with Luke who Y/N has heart eyes for. But, his eyes are for someone else. Julie.

“No, she’s not coming,” she answers the muffled voice in the background. “I don’t know!” she groans. “The boys wanted me to ask you if you’re okay, which are you?”

“Yes! I’m fine, just go rehearse, even though you guys don’t really need it, I know you’ll rock tomorrow--” Y/N gets cut off by her door swinging open.

“Y/N! Homework! Now!” her mom orders.

“I’m just telling Julie I can’t make it,” Y/N argues. “I gotta go.”

“Oh, okay, well, we all miss you over here,” she affirms.

“Yeah, I miss you all too, but we did see each other today, so… I miss the boys.”

Julie laughs. “I’ll tell them that, especially you know who.” Y/N can sense Julie’s smirk when she speaks.

Y/N chokes on a bit of her saliva. “Julie! I-I have to go.” She hangs up. “Why me?” she asks whatever higher power could possibly be listening to the teenage girl.

She plops down on her desk chair.

“What to start with?” Her eyes scan her To-Do List she’s already made, it’s not as much as she thought, but it’s definitely time consuming and very boring. Some of her teachers have already reached out to her, but she chooses to ignore their offers of help. She’s scared she’ll say something they’ll find stupid, or won’t understand.

And so she has to skip her favorite part of the day, to do Algebra, and History and Biology, and…

“So, why couldn’t she come today?” Luke asks, tuning his guitar on the couch.

“Eh, I didn’t ask her,” Julie admits.

“Why not?” Luke gives her a pointed look, his movements faltering.

“She would’ve told me if it was that important,” she claims. She looks off, before seeing him go back to his previous state. “Luke, you've been tuning that guitar for half an hour, I think it’s good.”

He rolls his eyes.

“So, Y/N really can’t come today?” Reggie asks, saddened over the news. “But, she never misses a rehearsal unless it’s family, or school related.”

Luke finally stops, setting down his guitar. “Wait,” he starts. “Didn’t progress reports come out today?”

Everyone looks at him weirdly. “How do you know that?” Alex questions, spinning his drumstick.

“Oh--uh.” He scratches the back of his head. “When I visited Julie at school the other day, I heard something about it.”

Julie turns his head towards him. “Are you talking about when Y/N said something about it to Flynn? A couple feet away from us? Yeah I heard her too, because I was facing her.” She crosses her arms. “I think someone has a crush,” she teases, smiling widely.

“What?!” A subtle blush paints over his cheeks. “I don’t like Y/N like that, she’s--she’s just a good friend.”

“Oh come on!” Alex joins. “It’s so obvious, don’t think I don’t notice when you stare at her.” He sends a wink to Luke.

“Or when you talk about her,” Reggie adds. “Which is all the time.”

“Just tell her,” Julie advises.

“Tell her?” Luke repeats, giving her a look of disbelief. “I don’t think you’ve guys noticed, but I’m dead, and she’s very much alive.”

“So?! Everyone knows you two are completely in love with each other, so give it a shot,” Julie urges, also knowing her friend's infatuation with the guitarist.

Luke chuckles. “She doesn’t like me, she rarely talks to me, to be honest I think she hates me.”

“You rarely talk to her,” Julie points out. “And ‘to be honest’ I think she thinks you hate her.” Luke’s posture caves hearing Julie’s words. “Are we going to get started now?”

Everyone nods.

Throughout practice Luke found his mind wandering back to the previous conversations the band had. A warm feeling would build in his stomach for a movement when he would think about the fact that Y/N likes him, or at least his friends think so. “Luke!” Alex shouts, snapping Luke out of his thoughts. “Practice is over,” he informs.

"It is?!” His eyes widened when an idea popped into his mind. “Well, won’t you look at that, it is over, and I completely forgot I made plans, bye!” Luke poofs out, landing in a girly room, but has a certain vibe to it.

“Luke!” Y/N shrieks, putting a hand over her heart. “What are you doing here?” she whisper-yells.

“T-the--” he snaps his fingers. “The guys wanted someone to check in on you, and Alex is hanging out with Willie, and Reggie is Reggie so… I volunteered.” He sways back and forth against his ankles. “Sooo… How are you doing?” He strolls up to her smoothly, placing an arm on the back of her chair.

“Luke… You are a terrible liar,” she asserts. “But, if you really want to know. I’m not doing too well.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“School,” she sighs. “We got our progress reports, and I’m not doing too well.” She tries to hide the paper from Luke.

“Y/N, don’t be embarrassed, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” He plucks the paper from under her arm. His reassuring smile slowly faded. “There’s… Room for improvement?” He shrugs.

“Get out,” Y/N mutters.

Luke’s heart plummeted. “What?”

“I said get out,” she repeats, harshly. “I get it, I’m dumb, and I’m lazy, and I don’t do my work. I get it. So, just leave.” Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. “I’m serious Luke.” Her voice cracks a little.

Guilt washed over him when he saw the effect his words take on her. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He reaches out to hug her, but he instead goes straight through her.

Y/N doesn’t notice his attempt of this action, instead boring her eyes at the paper in front of her. “Luke, I said just go.” She rubs her forehead.

He didn’t move though, he instead started looking over the paper she hadn't touched. “Twenty-three,” he answers.

“What?” she chokes out.

“The answer, it’s twenty-three.” He looks at her, a little self-conscious. “Look, just because I didn’t have the best grades, or didn’t do work, didn’t mean I was dumb, so stop telling yourself that. We’re not so different you know.”

She scrunches her face. “How’d you get that?” she asks. “The answer to the question.”

His eyes light up when she accepts his explanation, not asking him to leave again. “So… I just did…”

He talks through the problem, asking Y/N if she understands when her eyes widen. He noticed she does that when she’s getting confused, or is not fully processing the words. As they go through each subject, him helping her, or giving his opinion on things. She started to find herself smiling, and having fun? “Wow,” he whispers, reading a poem. “You just wrote this?”

She nods. “Yeah, I know, it’s not that great.”

“No! It’s really good for something you wrote in five minutes,” he compliments, rereading the poem in his head. “Who knew you were such a romantic?” he teases.

Y/N feels her cheeks warm up. “That’s actually the first time I’ve heard that.”

“So, who’d you write it about?” he asks. He partially dreaded asking the questions. He didn’t want to picture her ever describing someone that wasn’t him in such a beautiful context. “C’mon, you can tell me, what am I going to do? Tell my ghost friends.”

Y/N giggles. “I--uh… Someone?” It comes out more as a question.

“Name?”

“Why you want to know so bad, huh?” she blurts, with a smirk. “Why? You jealous?” She knew he wasn’t, but the thought made her whole body catch on fire.

Luke, surprised by her sudden cockiness, sends her a smirk right back. “Well, what if I am?”

She scoffs. “Yeah, right,” she murmurs.

He tilts his head. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She gives him a ‘really’ look. “Luke, c’mon…” She waits for him to say something like ‘you’re right, I’m joking’, or anything along those lines, but he just stares back with the same intensity she has.

“What do you want me to say?”

The question lingers in Y/N’s mind. I want you to say you like me. That’s what she wanted to tell him, that’s what she wanted to hear. “Nothing,” she mumbles. “Absolutely nothing.”

He cracks a smile. “Just tell me!” After that he keeps repeating it over and over again.

“I want you to say you like me!” she shouts.

His eyes widened, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable, he seemed in awe of the situation. “Why are you shouting?” Y/N’s mom asks, rushing in.

“Because I’ve gotten ten assignments turned in!” Y/N cheers trying to ignore Luke giving her a big smile, seriously, it’s scary how wide it is.

“I like you too,” he whispers, her heart dropping. It’s like he couldn’t contain his little secret for any longer, but now it leaves Y/N impatient as her mom stares down at her on the bed.

“That’s good! she assures. “Though it would’ve been better if you turned them in on time, but at least they’re in.” Y/N nods at her mom's backhanded compliment. “Anyways, dinners ready.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/N shuts her laptop. “I forgot humans have to eat.”

“Can I stay?” Luke asks.

“In my room,” she answers.

“You’re going to eat in your room?” her mom asks.

“Can you?” Luke perks up, hearing it. “Just say you want to finish your work, because you’re already in the groove, or something!” His eyes are pleading Y/N to stay with him, leaving her almost speechless.

“Y-yeah,” she stutters. “There’s a few more things I want to do before I call it a night, and I’m kind of in… ‘The Groove’,” she discreetly ridicules the boy next to her that’s invisible to her mom's eyes.

“Okay, just come down when you’re ready.”

Y/N sighs of relief when she hears the door shut quietly. “So, you like me?” She was slightly breathless from the beautiful boy so close to her.

“Yeah,” he responds. His eyes didn’t meet hers though.

“You don’t seem sure,” she judges.

His gaze locks with her. “I’m just nervous,” he reveals. “You make me really nervous. I thought you hated me just an hour ago, and now…”

She gapes at him. “I thought you hated me!”

“That’s what Julie said,” he adds, pointing towards her.

Y/N jolts her body away from him. “You spoke about me with Julie?” As if she summoned her, Julie’s contact lights up her phone. “Hello,” she answers.

“Is Luke over there?” she asks. “Sorry! Hi, it’s just the boys were worried.” Y/N sneaks a glimpse towards Luke who can’t seem to take his eyes off of her, it’s like he’s trying to memorize every single part of her body.

“He’s not, but I had a question for you.” Luke looks at Y/N confused as to why she lied. “Did you guys talk about anything earlier? He was acting weird, and you know with you being good friends with him, and us being the best of friends, I wanted to know.”

“Oh my God!” she exclaims. “He was out of it the entire rehearsal after we told him you weren’t going to be there, and he was all worried, and concerned, it was adorable. Dude is so in love with you it’s insane. I mean even Reggie and Alex were talking about how he talks about you, and how he stares at you, and how he’s so invested in you. I’d say he’s obsessed.”

Y/N lets out a victorious hum. “Good to know, well, I’ll let you know if I see him--oh wait, he’s right next to me, thanks for the info.” Y/N hangs up.

“She told you about rehearsal didn’t she?” He plays with the rings on his fingers, a nervous habit he picked up.

“Yep.” Y/N pops the ‘p’. “She said you’re obsessed with me.”

“Not true!” he argues. “Sort of…” He pouts. “Not in a creepy way though!” He tries to grab her hand, but it goes straight through. “This will be interesting.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agrees. “But, we’ll get through it…”

Luke then learned one thing about himself that night. He was touched-starved.

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kenjikutie · 5 years ago

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Back to the Future [Tamaki Amajiki]

summary: when your future child with your boyfriend arrives on the doorstep of the 3-a dorms, fluff, chaos and general panic is bound to ensue word count: 2k pairing: tamaki amajiki x fem!reader warnings: none!

most days, tamaki would thank whatever being there was above him for the mere fact that he was able to hold your hand anytime he wanted to, not that he did, of course. he was constantly overwhelmed by any little affectionate action send his way, whether it was a peck on the temple or a steamy makeout session in one of your dorm rooms. it truly didn’t matter what it was, if it involved your lips, he was sure to be a blushing puddle on the floor

however, this didn’t mean that tamaki wouldn’t cuddle with you of his own volition. the last thing he ever wanted to do was make you feel like you were carrying the weight of the entire relationship. tamaki loved you and he had to make sure you knew, even if he couldn’t untie the knot in his throat anytime he wanted to say it out loud

so, instead of that, he would let his love be expressed through how tight of a hold he had on you during the night. his arms would wrap around your waist while his face was buried in your chest, the adorable indigo tips of his hair settling on your collarbone. you swore that even if something tried to take you from his grasp, they wouldn’t be able to move you more than an inch without him waking up with a whine

but, this clingy nature only existed in the confines of your dorm rooms, due to tamaki’s shyness. because of this, the two of you were sitting next to one another on the common room's sofa, shoulders touching as the rest of the class paid close attention to the famous pixar film, up, playing on the tv. your eyes were also glued to the screen due to your childhood love of the movie, but tamaki was focused on playing with your fingers, trying to distract himself from how many people were gathered in the room

every time a joke was told, you giggled, turning to nejire to laugh some more at her comments on the scene. tamaki, however, would be too concentrated on the small crinkles on your eyes when you laughed and how beautiful your smile was. sometimes, he would overwhelm himself and turn bright red, despite you not even doing anything

a knock on the large front doors of the dorm building caused tamaki to let go of your hand and look up at you, silently wishing that you wouldn’t go answer it, just because he didn’t want you to move. his wish was granted when mirio happily ran to the doors and the rest of the class turned around to see who had paid them a visit. when mirio opened the door, his bright smile fell as he looked around before something tugged on his pant leg

when you heard the sniffling of a child, you immediately jumped off the couch, followed closely by nejire, who cut in front of you to coo at the young visitor. you stood behind your blue-haired friend, not being able to see over both her and mirio. tamaki was beginning to slowly lift himself from the couch to walk over to you, quickly realizing that none of his friends were around him anymore

“u-uncle miri! w-w-where’s m-mommy?”, every jaw in the dorm dropped and no one moved a muscle, besides your happy blonde friend

mirio awkwardly knelt down to look at the young boy, “uncle miri? have we met before? im sorry if i forgot; im not the best at remembering things!”

despite his laughter, you could tell that mirio was just as confused as everyone else. tamaki had taken his spot behind your back, resting his forehead on your shoulder to distract himself from how loud the child was crying. mirio placed a hand on the boy’s back and led him into the room while you, nejire and tamaki backed up to let them inside, still hidden behind the periwinkle of her hair

you could tell that the boy was overwhelmed but before you could say anything, he had closed his eyes and darted for the wall, burying his face into the hard surface, whispering something to himself. tamaki’s eyes widened at the familiar sight of indigo hair tucked into the corner of the room and you did the same. mirio took a step forward to comfort him, as he usually did with tamaki himself, but you beat him to the punch

resting a hand on the little boy’s back, you began to stroke his hair, “hey, i know it’s kinda scary being in here with so many older, taller strangers, but you don’t have to worry. we’re heroes in training; we’ll help you in any way you need!”

the boy tensed under your hands and for a second, you panicked, afraid you might have made the whole thing worse. but, before you could move, he had turned around and buried his head in your stomach, gripping onto your shirt so tightly you thought he might rip it. you gasped, connecting your gaze with tamaki, who looked just as shocked as you did

“mommy! i-im so sorry! i didn’t mean to touch i-it! im so sorry!”, he was sobbing now and you could feel his tears stain your shirt

“m-mommy?”, tamaki mumbled, slowly approaching the two of you, setting a shaky hand on your shoulder

you shrugged at him and lowered yourself down to the boy’s height, doing your best to lift his face from your abdomen to get a good look at him. he was a near mirror image of your boyfriend. with his indigo hair and facial structure, you were convinced the two of them could be twins in another life. meanwhile, tamaki was marveling at the child’s eyes, the same ones he loved to admire every day when you looked at him

“amajiki! y/n! you two never told me you had an adorable baby!”, nejire bounded over to the three of you, taking the boy into her arms, squeezing him close to her cheek and you resisted the urge to laugh at the shocked face he pulled

“w-we do not. i-i-i-”, tamaki’s words were stuck in his throat again and you quickly pulled his head into your shoulder, letting him breathe in the scent of your shampoo to calm down

“im gonna go get mr.aizawa. but for now, i think you two better look after him, doesn’t look like he’s gonna leave y/n’s side for a long time.”, mirio pulled nejire out of the dorm, despite her pouting and whining about how she wanted to take care of the cute baby too

within a second of being let go, the boy was attached to your leg, burying his face in it. suddenly, you were very aware of the two amajiki’s resting on your body. the rest of the class had gone back to the film, seeming unfazed by the recent occurrence

gently, you lifted tamaki’s head from your shoulder and pet the boy’s head, “what’s your name, honey?”

“a-a-akihito. akihito ama-jiki.”

---

after mr.aziawa had informed you that it was a side effect of a quirk, you were somewhat relieved. this meant that akihito would probably be back to his own time period in a few days, but, you couldn’t help feel a little disappointed. akihito was attached to your hip, not even able to go into a different room without you by his side

tamaki understood completely. the little boy had given him a hug as well when he recognized him as his father, apologizing to him as well, before immediately falling back into his mother’s arms. apparently, his son thought the same thing about you as he did. you were a safe space to him, just as you were to tamaki

but, whenever he saw his son begin to panic, he felt guilty. he was the reason why his son was so easily overwhelmed and frightened. why couldn’t he have been just like you? you were brave, passionate, and outgoing, almost shining as brightly as mirio in his mind. however, his son, just like him, was cursed to live out his days as the moon

the three of you were currently in your dorm room, all of you silently eating takoyaki that you had ordered earlier. akihito suddenly gasped, causing both heads to turn to him with concern. tamaki felt tears reach his eyes as the boy held up his hand, each finger having a small tentacle appearing out of them. you grinned. this was exactly what tamaki needed to see

the rest of the night was filled with akihito cheering at how cool his quirk was and his eyes shining at the sight of his father perfectly using his to perform all sorts of tasks. tamaki was beginning to feel better about their similarities and knew that, like himself, his son also had a sun to watch out for him. this sun, however, took the form of his mother

you went to bed that night with akihito attached to you like a leech and you laughed at the pout at your boyfriend’s face, “aww, tama, did he take your spot?”

tamaki’s face went bright red at your teasing and he quickly glanced away from you, “n-no! i, i was just thinking about h-how sad it’ll be when h-he goes back.”

you smiled and sat up, careful not to disturb akihito as you rested your head against your boyfriend’s chest, feeling his heartbeat speed up, “yeah, but just think how happy the future us’s are gonna be!”

future. that word knocked the air out of tamaki’s chest. the two of you were married. he was a pro-hero and you were currently pregnant with your second child. you two were perfect in the future. did he really deserve that? would you have been happier with someone else? someone who wasn’t as withdrawn as he was

his question was answered when you hid your face in his stomach, resting on your side while he laid on his back, akihito still on top of you. tamaki didn’t need to think about all of that anymore. because, if he kept going like this, then everything would be just fine. he turned off his bedside lamp, and pulled the blanket over the three of you, resting his hand on his son’s back, placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head

akihito was gone the next morning and were sure you’d never felt worse, but, tamaki smiled and pulled something out from his bed. you furrowed your brows then beamed at the handwritten letter from akihito, who wrote about how much he loved you and how he would miss you so much. you gave tamaki a kiss, trying not to notice his squeal of surprise but smiling when he relaxed and kissed you back

---

meanwhile, future you and tamaki were both panicking. tamaki was trying to console you but he was just as scared as you were. where had your precious son gone? was he in trouble? did he need the both of you to hold and comfort him? what if you never saw him again? it was too much for the both of you to handle

suddenly, there was a harsh pop and blindingly bright flash, tamaki quickly jumping to cover your eyes with his hand. you lowered your husband’s arm and shrieked at the sight of your son, standing perfectly safe in your living room

you raced forward and scooped him into your arms, nearly crying when you buried his face in your neck for a second then pulled back to rest his chubby hands on your cheeks. tamaki joined you shortly, placing a light kiss to his son’s head, then putting a matching one on yours

akihito began to ramble on about how he saw you, daddy, uncle miri and aunt nejire, discussing the food you ate, the note he gave you, and how cool his dad’s quirk was. you listened intently with a grin while tamaki glanced over to the framed piece of notebook paper above your mantle

the same note your son had given you seven years ago

#bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha fanfiction #bnha #tamaki amajiki imagine #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki amajiki #amajiki tamaki imagine #amajiki tamaki x reader #amajiki x reader #tamaki x reader

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2dmenenthusiast · 4 years ago

Note

I can't remember if I sent this to you already but could I request headcanons for aizawa, hizashi and Toshinori finding their s/o that has a chipmunk quirk that makes her fall into hibernation when it's too cold (kinda like tsu) but when the guys find her with her heart rate low and her breathing shallow maybe they freak a little bc she didn't tell them about that part of her quirk yet

omggggg this idea is literally so cute I got so excited when I first read it. Also thank you love for comin through with the requests, I really appreciate it! <3 I also hella struggled cuz like, what can someone with a chipmunk quirk do? Stuff their cheeks? Climb up trees? Also I legit forgot what a chipmunk even looked like I had to look it up lmaoooo im so dumb it hurts

Aizawa is an intimidating fella, okay

So when you first told him about your quirk, you were lowkey embarrassed?

Like, here’s this grown-ass man with a badass quirk who is more than capable of taking down villains and defending himself, and here you are just-

🐿️

But you know what’s great about this man? He couldn’t give less of a shit about your quirk or anything like that. He strikes me as the type to care more about personality than anything else

concealing your quirk is fairly easy. People probably wouldn’t even know you had one if it wasn’t for the small fluffy ears popping out of the top of your head, and even then you could just cover them with a hat

But that doesn’t mean you don’t experience the effects of your own quirk just because it’s subtle

You have a mutant type quirk, so you experience certain things that actual chipmunks do

Sometimes you won’t even notice that you’re stuffing your cheeks to full capacity with whatever you’re eating before Aizawa has to cut you off and just be like

“y/n. Chew.”

Or when you’re rushing, you’re usually going so fast that Aizawa can barely even see you zooming from room to room

you can also get kinda skittish at times, your ears twitching whenever you hear a noise that sounds weird or out of place, and you’ll just look at Aizawa with wide eyes until he checks out what made a noise that he could barely hear

“y/n, it was just some kids outside.”

“Oh... sorry, Sho.”

he wants to be frustrated, but he knows it’s not your fault. And honestly? He finds you so cute that he can’t really stay mad at you

So he’ll just let out a huff before patting your head lovingly, grazing his fingers over your ears (Which he KNOWS are sensitive, that asshole)

Experiencing long periods of deep sleep is also a thing. You wouldn’t call it hibernation cuz you still have to do normal, everyday things, but there are times during the winter where you’ll sleep for a few days in a row and only get up to go to the bathroom or eat

And since you can’t actually burrow into the floor of your home, you usually make a blanket fort in the corner of your bedroom and stuff all of the pillows and blankets you can in there until it’s nice and warm, ready for you to bury yourself in

and you might’ve left that little part of your quirk out when you moved in together. whoops

So when Shouta comes home and sees the living room couch void of all of its pillows, he’s not expecting to walk into your shared bedroom and see you curled up in a blanket fort

he’s a bit curious at first, just kinda looking at you like “All right, I guess this is normal?”

and he’ll crouch down and kinda examine you for a bit before he eventually wonders if you’re even breathing? You’re burried under blankets, so he can’t really see your chest moving

eventually he’ll check and see that your breathing is abnormally slow and he kinda just... pauses and checks again to make sure he’s not going crazy.

and he wont deny that he kinda freaks out at first, his immediate thought being that he needs to get you out of there, but the second he grabs the blankets to pull them off of you he’s like wait... hold up.

then it all clicks

you’re a mutant with a chipmunk quirk...

c h i p m u n k

safe to say he’s relieved, so he just lets you be and goes about his day.

When you wake up a few hours later to go to the bathroom, you come out of the bedroom with your clothes practically on backwards, rubbing at your eyes and stumbling past Aizawa like he’s not even there. And when you’re done, it’s right back to sleep you go

“Back to bed?” Aizawa would ask as he watches you with an amused smirk on his face

“Mhm.”

“Okay. Goodnight, y/n”

“Mm’night.

Listen, when he first heard of your quirk, he thought it was the cutest shit ever

“Your quirk is Chipmunk?! That’s SOOOOOOOO CUUUUUUUTE!”

No he’s legit your number one hype man. If you think your quirk is lame, he’s literally shouting at you how cool he thinks you are.

“You can stuff so much food in your mouth, y/n! And that’s pretty dope if you ask me! I’m totally jealous!”

speaking of food, he’ll just randomly ask you to shove as much as you can of one thing in your cheeks until they’re at full capacity.

“Hey y/n, think you can shove this whole pack of jumbo marshmallows in your cheeks?”

“But... I just bought those :(”

“I’ll buy you more, LET’S DO THIS!!!”

also asks you the dumbest questions omg. You don’t know if he’s genuinely curious or if he’s just doing it to piss you off

“So do you just eat nuts all day?”

“You’ve seen me eat, Hizashi. No.”

“Do you prefer to sleep in trees?”

“That would be extremely uncomfortable.”

“Ooh you’d probably be great frieds with Kamui Woods then.”

“Did you not hear what I just said?”

He also REALLY likes your ears. Like an unhealthy amount? Whenever you’re around he literally wont stop touching them and even tugs on them playfully until you’re swatting at his hands and telling him to go away

He can’t help that they’re so cute :(

so on a particuallry cold day in winter when he has to go to work at the school, he leaves your home while you’re sleeping, only to come home hours later to find you... still sleeping?

You haven’t moved an inch the entire time he’s been gone, so needless to say, he’s a litle concerned.

and when he checks to see if you’re still alive only to discover your heart rate is super slow, he’s A LOT concerned

His brain just goes to the most dramatic thing he can think of, which is that you’re in some weird coma and need to wake up

so rather than, i dont know, gently shaking you awake like a normal person, he grabs you buy your shoulders and starts shaking you violently while shouting your name loud as fuck

“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN”

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”

you literally wake up so violently, you sit right up and shove him off of you before asking what’s wrong with him, pretty sure you’ve officially gone deaf

He then explains that he thought you were in a coma or something cuz your heartbeat was so slow, and at that point you just roll your eyes because of course he would come up with this ridiculous conclusion

“Hizashi, my quirk is chipmunk and it’s a mutation quirk.”

He doesn’t even get what you’re getting at, just tilting his head in confusion as he squints at you.

“What do chipmunks do in the winter, babe?”

Cue more confused squinting

“Oh my god, they hibernate, you headass.”

it finally clicks and the look on his face makes it seem like he just learned the secret of the universe, and afterwards he’s going on about how cool that is while you just roll your eyes and lay back down to try and go back to sleep, bringing the blanket over your head to try and drown him out

He eventually gets the hint and leaves, but after a while, you kinda feel bad for blowing up on him. He was just concerned and didn’t fully understand your quirk

so letting out a huff, you pull the blanket down and call out his name, to which he immediately runs to you at the sound of, asking you what you need

you just wordlessly lift up the blanket to expose the empty side of the bed, and oh boy, the size of the grin he gets on his face is unmatched

immediately throws off his hero costume so that you can both be comfortable and jumps into bed with you, holding you impossibly close

you fall asleep in a matter of minutes while he just looks at you fondly, hand soothingly rubbing your back.

Just like the other two, he finds you incredibly cute. Like mans is in love, okay?

everytime he sees your little ears twitch, he just gets the strongest urge to touch them, but he never does without your consent becuase he knows how sensitive they are.

“Uh... y/n, do you mind if I... touched your ears?”

Baby probably feels so awkward asking ugh PLEASE REASSURE HIM

“Oh? Yeah, of course, Toshi. Knock yourself out.”

oooh he’s excited. He’ll be super gentle about it, just lightly grazing them with his fingers before gently rubbing them between his thumb and forefinger

and at that point you’re littlerally melting, practically falling into him because him caressing your ears like this feels absolutely amazing

When he sees how it’s affecting you, he immediately becomes a blushing mess and apologizes, but you just hug him and tell him it’s okay and that you liked it

yeah he definitely rubs your ears whenever you’re feeling stressed or anxious because it’s become a quick way to relax you

only when he does it though. If anyone else randomly touches your ears, you get kinda uncomfortable

Just because they don’t look human doesn’t mean they still weren’t a part of you, dammit

Anyways, one day when you’re waiting for Toshi to come back home, you’ve got yourself wrapped up like a burrito in your blanket, sitting on the couch as you watched tv

it had been snowing all day, but luckily Toshinori had turned up the thermostat before he left, remembering how you mentioned that you’re not a huge fan of the cold

unfortunately for you, the harsh weather had no trouble taking out the power, leaving you in the dark and the cold

it didn’t take long for the cold to start seeping in through the cracks in the windows, and you quickly began to grow tired before you inevitibly passed out on the couch, still wrapped tightly in your blanket

When Toshi gets home and sees you on the couch, his first reaction is “aw, how cute.”

but then when he comes up to you and starts calling out your name to try and wake you up and you just won’t, and then he notices how much your breathing has slowed down, he quickly growns concerened.

He’s not in full panic mode yet, but he’s getting there, and he’s quick to crouch down to your level and grab your shoulders to start shaking you to wake you up

which you do, blinking groggily at him like you weren’t just in full hibernation mode

“Oh... Hey, Toshi,” you mumble, and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down so that you can nuzzle yourself into his warm chest

He’s not able to ask you about what happened to you before you’ve already fallen back asleep, and when the power comes back on a few minutes later, he does a quick google search on chipmunks and mutant quirks before putting two and two together

Now he’s thinking of all the ways he could make you something to burrow into during those especially cold winters

#mha headcanons #mha x reader #all might headcanons #toshinori headcanons #toshinori x reader #aizawa headcanons #shouta aizawa x reader #present mic headcanons #present mic x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #bnha headcanons #eraserhead headcanons #eraserhead x reader #request #ask

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miracleonice87 · 4 years ago

Text

juliaswinterwriting challenge, pt. 2

1. “Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” with Mathew Barzal

a/n: finally! my second of two submissions for @wondershawns winter writing challenge. 6.6K. also features Mat’s boyfriend Beau lol.

summary: Mat has been falling for Beau’s cousin Genevieve since the day he met her. the main thing standing in his way? her.

warnings: swearing. alcohol. a smattering of angst. mentions of sex (not explicit). a healthy dose of fluff.

_____

Mat couldn’t have heard his best friend correctly. Convinced of that, he shook his head and tried to snap himself out of his stupor.

“Wait, Beau… what?”

“Yeah, Genevieve’s moving in with me,” Beau repeated casually, slapping a puck into the back of the net. “Finally convinced her. She just broke up with that idiot and she’s gonna go to NYU.”

The guys were on the ice at the practice facility for the first time since arriving back in New York after a long summer. They were conducting an informal skate to get their feet under them again, but most of the time had been spent simply catching up with one another — shooting pucks, yes, but also shooting the breeze. Mat had enjoyed the laidback nature of the on-ice session thus far, but he felt an undeniable jolt of electricity in his every nerve when Beau said that name — the one that elicited a thousand different feelings all at once.

Genevieve.

The girl who shared her cousin Beau’s big blue eyes and endless charm, but had a sassy wit and tender heart all of her own. The girl who was more like his teammate’s sister than a more distant relative. The girl who Mat had fallen for the very first day he met her, when Beau invited him to his family home in Quebec for a visit, now three summers ago. The girl who he’d been hopelessly, helplessly entranced by ever since.

Suddenly, a rubber disc was flying at Mat’s feet, the product of Marty dishing him a pass from the opposite side of the zone, expecting Mat to tap it into the goal as they’d already done a dozen times that afternoon. Instead, Mat let it whiz past him, only giving the puck so much as a glance when it bounced off the half-wall.

“Barzy!” Marty yelled from the far boards with a surprised chuckle, smacking his blade on the ice repeatedly. “Fuckin’ pay attention, kid!”

“You hockey much?” Beau teased, furrowing his brows at his teammate’s blank expression. Beau thought to himself that it looked as though Mat had just seen a ghost. “What’s’a matter with you?”

Mat turned to see Marty, Beau, Ebs, and Anders all looking at him as if he were a creature from a different planet. He cleared his throat and hunched once more overtop his skates, gliding in a tight circle before he faced them again.

“Nothin’,” he said nonchalantly, with a sniff. He put his stick to the ice and readied himself, trying to push Beau’s revelation to the back of his mind and focus on the task at hand. “Let’s go again.”

“Wait,” Marty said, putting a gloved hand up to halt the skating men around him. “I forgot. Isn’t Barzy, like, in love with that girl?”

Beau slowly turned his head toward Mat, who swallowed hard, trying to will his cheeks not to redden. Anders and Ebs chuckled, hands resting atop the knobs of their sticks.

“Shut up, Marty,” Mat nearly pleaded, anxiously tapping his stick on the ice. “Just... let’s go again. Come on.”

_____

In the three years since they’d first met, the math broke down pretty simply: Genevieve had had a boyfriend for all of those three years, until a month ago; Mat had kissed her exactly once on the forehead after putting her drunk ass to bed during a weekend visit to Beau’s; and they had made exactly zero progress toward becoming what Mat had always wanted them to be. Together.

One more number was soon added to the equation, not long after she moved to the city — the number one. Sponsored by the number of times they’d now had sex.

Genevieve’s twenty-first birthday fell right after she started at NYU as a junior transfer, when the Isles boys had just started camp. After a night at the club celebrating her, in a vodka-induced haze, with Tito’s attention wrapped up in a pretty blonde, Mat and Genevieve snuck away from the group, into an Uber, and off to his apartment in Brooklyn.

Mat realized immediately that he’d never felt a high like the one he did when she was kissing him, and he chased it all night long. He lost himself in her in every way as they melded together between his sheets.

He truly thought that her birthday was going to be the start of something between them. Something real. More than just a childish crush, stolen glances, and timid, blushing stares.

Which is why his heart broke when he awoke the next morning, after their passionate night gave way to dawn and the effects of the alcohol had faded, to hear Genevieve speaking quietly on the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I went home with someone... No, you don’t know him. Just a guy from class.”

Mat felt a tightness in his throat and tried to swallow it.

“Shut up, Anth,” Genevieve said with a lighthearted groan.

Shit. Of course it was Beau.

“Brunch? Uh... yeah. Yeah, I can do brunch. I just have to come back to your place and change first... No, no, I’ll just grab an Uber. Yes, I’m sure.”

She was leaving. She was trying to sneak out of his place, while he was presumably still asleep. Despite that, pathetic as he felt for it, he didn’t want her to go. That was the last thing he wanted.

“Okay. Yeah, that’s fine. Okay, see you then. Bye.” Genevieve ran a hand through her dark locks and blew out a long breath.

“Who was that?” Mat muttered in a sleepy voice, making Genevieve jump. Despite trying to ignore it, he couldn’t help but notice the way she pulled his sheets tighter around her naked body at the realization that he was, indeed, awake. His chest clenched at the sight. Genevieve cleared her throat, stalling, before answering.

“That was Anth,” she said, tossing her phone on the bed in front of her. Mat watched the way her bare spine hunched as she sighed and then looked at him over her freckled shoulder. It took everything in Mat not to lean over and pepper her soft skin with warm kisses.

“He wants to go to brunch. The three of us. He’s gonna text you and invite you. He doesn’t know I’m here...” she spoke, wringing her fingers.

“Okay,” Mat said quietly, sitting up on an elbow. “Well, I’ll drive you back to his place—“

“No, no. I’m just gonna order an Uber,” she said hastily, followed by another long sigh. He wrinkled his brow, confused.

“We can’t tell him, Mat,” Genevieve said sadly, tossing him a forlorn glance, her fingers pressing into her temple. “We just... I can’t. I’m sorry.”

His heart broke a bit right then. In his mind, they would admit the truth about last night to Beau this morning, he would chirp them about it endlessly but be happy that they were happy, and they would all live happily ever after.

Evidently, Genevieve had different plans.

“So I’m gonna go, and then you can meet us at the cafe. Okay?” she asked, turning to face him straight on, seemingly so that he saw as little of her nude form as possible, despite having seen all of it last night.

Mat nodded, swallowing again. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

They both knew he wasn’t talking about the Uber. He was referencing something much more consequential than her ride home.

Genevieve pressed her lips together, looking down at her lap before meeting his eyes again. She nodded slowly.

“I just... I don’t think this is a good idea, Maty. I just got out of a relationship, and I don’t know how Anth would feel about...” She gestured between the two of them. Mat tried not to flinch, though he nearly did just that.

He nodded. Genevieve noted the pain in his eyes and averted her own to avoid being crushed by the knowledge that she had singlehandedly inflicted it upon him. Eventually, he found his voice again.

“Okay. Fine. I understand, I guess. I think you know how I feel about you, especially now, but it’s... it’s whatever you wanna do, G,” Mat said.

Genevieve blinked at him a few times, and for a fleeting moment as she opened her mouth, he thought she might change her mind.

His hopes crashed down in front of him as she shifted uncomfortably under the covers and requested, “Can you maybe just... look away while I get dressed?”

That time, Mat flinched.

_____

Mat couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw who was calling as he made his way home from the rink after practice on a snowy Monday nearly three months later, in early December. He pressed the green button on his dash display, said hello, and her fluttering voice filled his car.

“Mat… hi! Are you busy?”

Even if he were, Mat would’ve lied.

“No, no, not at all. What’s going on, G? How are you?” he asked as he switched lanes, fingers suddenly drumming on the steering wheel as nervous energy coursed through him.

Since the morning after they’d hooked up, the most they had communicated directly was texting half a dozen or so times, with Genevieve congratulating Mat on a good game or Mat asking if she knew where Beau was. Occasionally they’d bump into each other after a game, the ones she could actually make it to given her insane class schedule, or at the bar, and they’d both hug awkwardly and inevitably blush like schoolchildren. Mat missed her like hell, and he gently reminded her of that each time they touched base, but he respected her decision, even if he wasn’t fully convinced it was the right one.

Little did he know, Genevieve wasn’t fully convinced, either, but she willed herself to stand her ground, despite the sway he still held over her, without him even realizing it.

“I’m good. I’m good. Listen, um, I know this probably seems out of the blue, but… would you wanna meet up for coffee?” he heard her ask.

Mat’s brows shot up at her inquiry. He had long ago written off any chance at spending alone time with her and was caught off guard by her invitation.

“Sure,” Mat answered, though somewhat hesitantly. “I’d love to, you know that.”

She must have heard the surprise in his voice because she followed up with, “It’s just, I really miss you… and besides, there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

Mat couldn’t keep the smug expression from his face. “Oh yeah? Other than just how much you miss me?” he asked arrogantly. He could practically hear Genevieve roll her eyes as she huffed into the phone.

“Just shut up and come here, you egomaniac,” she giggled. “I’m at my usual spot.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in fifteen. See you then. And, G?”

“Uh huh?”

A smile twitched at Mat’s lips as he replied.

“I’m glad you called,” he said, sincerity dripping from his words.

He heard the smile in her voice when she remarked, “I’m glad you answered. See you soon.”

_____

When Mat walked into the coffee shop minutes later, Genevieve was holed up at a corner table, notebooks and loose papers alike strung before her in a mass of organized chaos. She touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip and squinted at her laptop screen through her thick, tortoise-shell framed glasses.

Mat had never seen her wearing glasses before. Though he didn’t even think such a feat was possible, he fell a little more in love with her and became a little more tortured by her right then and there.

He approached her slowly so as not to startle her. As he came nearer, she didn’t even look up, deep in concentration as she typed. When she finally glanced away from her screen and toward a notebook across the table from her, Mat playfully crouched into her line of vision, tilting his chin upward as he waited for her to spot him.

Eventually, her eyes met his and immediately glimmered. She flushed slightly, putting her hand to her forehead with a groan.

“Oh, god, Maty, how long have you been standing there?” Genevieve asked, an apology in her tone.

Mat smiled and tried not to dwell on the way his pulse quickened when his nickname fell from her lips. “Long enough to observe that you might need your glasses prescription changed. You’re not supposed to squint at your screen like that, G,” he warned, approaching her and scanning the multitude of documents before her. “What is all this?” he asked, letting his gaze drift back to hers.

“It’s for my event this weekend. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Genevieve responded tentatively. “But first, coffee,” she said, reaching for her wallet tucked inside her bookbag.

Mat reached for her hand, pushing it away and shaking his head.

“No, c’mon,” he insisted. “Let me. What can I get you?”

Genevieve looked at their touching fingers as he slowly pulled his away, then she gave him that killer half-grin of hers and breathed a sigh, giving into him since she knew trying to protest was useless.

“How ‘bout a peppermint tea? I think I’m overcaffeinated at this point anyway so I should probably take it easy on the coffee,” she admitted with a chuckle as she tucked some hair behind her ear. Mat nodded.

“Smart girl. Tea coming right up,” he promised with a squeeze of her shoulder. Genevieve thanked him and watched as he sauntered to the counter to stand in line.

His hair was longer, and she thought it made him look even more handsome, if that was even imaginable. He caught her ogling at him as he turned the corner to wait for his order, and she simply pursed her lips into a tight smirk and tried to refocus on her notes. He tried to refocus on anything but her. They both were clumsy in their attempts.

When he returned, he placed a large paper cup before her and she wrapped her hands around it with an appreciative hum.

“You’re the best,” Genevieve praised. He waved her off as he took a sip of his cappuccino.

“So why have I been summoned here, G?” Mat then asked, teasing in his question.

Genevieve bit at her full bottom lip and Mat tried to force his eyes not to linger there as she snapped her notebook shut and readjusted herself in her chair, clearing her throat.

“Okay, so you know I’m taking this event planning class this semester? It’s part of my major. And our final project is to plan a large-scale event,” she began, and he nodded as he sipped at his coffee, amused by her bubbly mannerisms as she spoke. “Well, so… a friend of mine in class kind of accidentally let slip that I’m Anthony’s cousin, and it turns out that the prof is friends with some Isles execs. She suggested that I plan a gala to benefit the team children’s foundation, and obviously since the professor fed me that idea, I couldn’t really say no. Especially since it’s 50 percent of my final grade, and obviously because it’s for such a great cause.” Mat nodded again, already seeing where this was going, but not exactly minding it.

“So since you guys don’t play this Saturday night, Anth had originally told me that he would go and kinda be the face of the team for me, but he backed out this morning,” Genevieve said, playing absentmindedly with her fingers in her lap. Mat was getting ready to take another swig when she added that last little tidbit, and he narrowed his eyes at her as he lowered his cup.

“What do you mean he backed out? What the hell else does he have to do?” Mat didn’t try to hide his annoyance — Beau had practically begged this poor girl to come and live with him and go to school in New York, and now he was jeopardizing her academic future?

“I don’t know,” Genevieve shrugged. “He said some girl he’s been talking to bought him tickets to the Nets game on Saturday night and he—“

“Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me...” Mat spat, then noticed the disappointment in her features, and immediately softened. “So, what can I do to help?” he asked, deciding that he would deal with the Beau issue later.

She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, and drew a deep breath as she summoned the courage to make her request.

“I was wondering if... if you’d go with me?” she eventually mumbled.

Mat was certain he had misheard, just like that day months ago on the ice. He licked his bottom lip quickly and sat back in his chair.

“Say again?” he deadpanned.

“I was wondering if you’d come with me,” Genevieve spoke, clearer and faster this time. “I know I don’t even deserve to ask you a favor like that, and you probably already have plans anyway, and I—“

“G, stop,” Mat interrupted dryly.

“It’s not like you’re my second choice or anything,” Genevieve continued, talking with her hands just like Beau did when he got flustered. “I wanted to ask you — really, I did. Trust me. It’s just… I was afraid Anth would be weird so—“

“G, stop,” Mat laughed, his voice firmer this time as his hand moved to rest on her knee. “I don’t need an explanation. Of course I’ll come with you. I’d be honored.”

Genevieve finally exhaled, throwing her hands over her face in sheer excitement and shaking her head back and forth.

“Ugh, Mathew Barzal, I could kiss you right now!” she exclaimed before she could pay a second thought to her words. She covered her mouth then, eyes bugging behind her glasses. Mat couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he quipped softly as he raised his coffee to his lips once more, smirking pompously at Genevieve as she breathed a laugh.

As she launched into the details of the event — what he should wear, what she would need from him, when he could pick her up — he found himself spacing. No detail she shared much mattered to him — not really. It didn’t affect his decision. No matter what this would cost him, literally or figuratively, he was all in.

All in on the gala, all in on Genevieve. All in.

She was letting him in, however little, and he planned to take full advantage of the opportunity.

Mat insisted on giving Genevieve a ride to Beau’s apartment after they’d finished their drinks, convincing her that she needed to take a break from working and get a change of scenery. Surprisingly, she complied. He realized as she sat in his passenger seat just how much he had missed the way he felt in her presence. The world seemed to be in full color only when Genevieve was by his side.

Sadly, the drive was a short one, and soon Genevieve was hurriedly pulling her bookbag into her lap as Mat pulled over to the curb near the building’s entrance. Preparing for her to jump out of the car without giving him a second look, Mat was surprised when he felt her fingertips grasp his jaw. She placed a lingering kiss to his cheek, closer to his mouth than could be called chaste, and smoothed her thumb across the stubble on his chin.

“I really have to go, even though I don’t want to, but thanks a million, Maty,” Genevieve said, beaming at him as she pulled the straps of her bag onto her shoulders. “I can’t wait for this weekend. Bye.”

With that, she was scampering off, throwing him one last smile before disappearing through the doorway.

With a pursed exhale, Mat rested his forehead against the steering wheel and tried to talk himself down from the clusterfuck his brain had just launched into at her actions.

_____

The week dragged on for Mat. When Saturday finally arrived, he took far longer than usual to get ready, even FaceTiming his sister for her recommendations on the best tie and shoe combination to match his navy suit.

When Liana furrowed her eyebrows, curious why he cared so much about what he wore to what seemed to her to be a fairly routine team event, Mat knew what was coming and braced for it as she opened her mouth.

“Is this like a date or something—“

“Goodbye, Liana. Thank you,” Mat said curtly, cutting her off and quickly ending the call. Of course, it rang again immediately, but Mat chose to ignore it and tucked the device in his pocket as he gave himself one last glance in the mirror.

When the phone rang yet again, he huffed, prepared to answer and then immediately hang up on his dear, annoying baby sister, when he noticed it wasn’t Liana this time.

Stepping into his closet to choose an overcoat, he smiled and tapped the green button.

“Don’t tell me you’re cancelling on me now, G,” Mat said, half in jest, half in masked terror. “I just got dressed.”

To his dismay, Genevieve sounded panicked on the other end of the line.

“Uh, no, quite the opposite, actually,” she said nervously. “I’m kind of — okay, well, completely — freaking out over here, and I was wondering if you could maybe come over early and convince me not to call my professor and tell her I’m sick so I don’t have to see what a complete disaster this night turns out to be?”

Mat had pulled on a coat and flicked off the lights in his closet while she was talking, and he shifted the phone to his other ear to respond once she stopped rambling.

“Don’t do that,” he said firmly. “I’m leaving now. Sit tight. I’ll be right there, okay?”

Mat heard her breathe a sigh of relief. “You’re the best, Maty,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

His smile widened — he was always happy to play the role of knight in shining armor, but it meant more to him to be able to play it for Genevieve. His chest puffed with each word of her gratitude.

“You’re welcome, love,” he said before he realized the pet name that fell from his lips. But he couldn’t regret it, refused to even try, so he bid her goodbye for now and headed for the parking garage to ride away on his white stallion — er, Cadillac.

Ten minutes later — after navigating a route that should have taken at least fifteen — he was on her doorstep, the dozen red roses he had bought that morning in hand. Mat tried to act as though he wasn’t surprised to find her still in a set of Beau’s Isles sweats, donning her glasses, with her makeup half-finished and her hair not yet fixed. He glanced at the clock above her head that indicated only about forty minutes until they needed to leave the apartment, but decided to ignore that minor detail.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mat said charmingly, extending the flowers to her. “These are for you. For good luck.”

Genevieve’s lips turned up momentarily into a grin, then folded into a frown, and she looked as though she may burst into tears at any moment. Forcing his way in the door, Mat set the bouquet on the entry table and gathered her into his chest, resting a hand on the back of her head and rubbing small circles on her back with the other.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “What’s goin’ on, G? Talk to me, baby.” Oh, shit. Another pet name. He really had to stop doing that.

Genevieve seemed unaffected by the term, though, and drew a shaking breath before squeezing his waist tightly and stepping away.

“Everything! This event is gonna crash and burn and it’s all my fault,” she cried, flinging her hands skyward for dramatic effect.

“What do you mean?” Mat inquired. “And while we talk, why don’t we go to your room so you can keep getting ready?” he added, placing a gentle hand to her hip. Thankfully, she nodded, despite heaving a sigh. As he turned them down the hall, she let her swirling thoughts erupt.

“The caterer called an hour ago and said they didn’t put in an order big enough for tonight so they’re gonna have to supplement the food with basically whatever they can find,” Genevieve began as they entered her room, motioning for Mat to take a seat on her meticulously made bed, which felt far more intimate than he was prepared for, not that he was complaining. She sat on the vanity bench nearby and hurriedly applied eyeshadow to her lids, prattling all the while. As she spoke, Mat glanced down at the dress laid out on the foot of the bed on a hanger, and he swore he forgot his own name for a moment as he gaped at it blankly.

“And I specifically ordered peonies, not poppies. Like how the fuck does a florist mess that up! I just—“

“Wait, sorry to interrupt, but this is what you’re wearing?” Mat choked out, sliding the shiny fabric between his first two fingers and thumb. Genevieve nodded, hurriedly fastening on a pearl cluster earring smack dab in the midst of her blush and bronzer routine.

“Yeah, Anthony insisted on taking me shopping and made me buy the most expensive goddamn dress in the store for some reason,” she grumbled. Mat made a mental note to thank Beau profusely. “I told him I couldn’t accept it but — wait, why? You hate it, don’t you?”

Mat’s eyes bugged at her question before he swallowed hard, shaking his head furiously. “No, no, it’s just... you’re gonna look so unfair,” he chuckled. Genevieve gave him a disbelieving look.

“Hardly,” she disagreed, apparently not noticing how gone he was at the moment. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter what I wear because it’s going to be an absolute shit show.”

She threw a fluffy brush into her makeup caddy with a clatter, and Mat approached where she sat fussing over herself anxiously in the mirror. She couldn’t help but notice the way her breath caught in her throat when his long fingers came to rest on her shoulders, stretching to her collarbone as he gazed at her intensely in their reflection. She felt herself relax under his touch.

“I know you’ve convinced yourself of that,” Mat began, his voice low, slow, sincere. “And that probably nothing I say will change your mind. But even if the food is wrong and the flowers are wrong and it doesn’t look exactly how you pictured it, it’s still gonna be a success. Because you made it happen. And you’re the most organized, most dedicated, hardest-working person I know,” he said as she finished applying her lipstick and sat up straight with a long, calming breath.

“And you’re the sweetest person I know,” she admitted airily. Mat beamed, squeezing her trap muscles. “Thank you,” she added, her hand finding his and bringing it to her lips, their eyes never straying from one another’s in the mirror until she stood up to face him.

He threw her hair over her shoulders and gawked at the perfect placement of her makeup, however much she had rushed its application.

“Makeup,” Mat spoke, drawing a pretend v-shape in thin air. “Check. One thing at a time.”

She snickered a bit, her hands ghosting across his suit coat for a moment, enchanted, before she snapped back to the task at hand.

“Okay, I have to go curl my hair, and then get dressed. And then, I’m ready,” she promised as Mat nodded and slowly returned to his seat on her bed. As she pulled a pair of strappy heels from underneath the bedskirt, he smiled down at her so fondly, and she realized she wouldn’t mind having him sitting right here more often.

Certainly wouldn’t mind.

She tossed Mat a wink as she picked up the dress, too, and hustled into the bathroom, suddenly feeling much more confident than she had without his presence — his reassurance.

Fifteen minutes later, after chattering with Mat through the door while taming her hair, she pulled on the dress and smoothed her hands over the skirt of it, tugged on her heels, and pulled open the door.

Mat stopped abruptly in the middle of a story about razzing her cousin at practice and stood to his feet, neither moving an inch.

Finally, Genevieve sighed and motioned toward her attire.

“So?” she spoke simply. “Acceptable?”

Mat scoffed, literally scoffed, and repeated, “Acceptable?” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and couldn’t help the boyish giggle he let out. “More than acceptable, G. You look... wow. Incredible. So incredible.”

Genevieve could admit to herself that she was pleased with his reaction — in fact, she couldn’t quite seem to detach her eyes from his face as his stare roamed her figure. She leaned against the doorpost and smirked.

“Remember what I said earlier this week? About how I could just kiss you right now?” she asked mischievously. He nodded slowly, eyes still studying the way her dress pulled tight in exactly the right places, then finding their way back to hers. “Kinda feeling that way again right now,” she added.

He exhaled sharply, standing up straighter, as she took a couple of paces toward him.

“Is that so?” he teased. She nodded, chewing at the inside of her cheek. Mat hummed in anticipation as she came ever closer. “You sure about that?” he asked firmly, extending his arms with his palms out toward her, trying his damnedest to keep her at a distance.

She only nodded again, a gleam in her eye, and paused just a couple of feet from him, waiting for his approval.

“Take another step looking like that and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Mat warned, giving her one final out.

A small laugh passed through Genevieve’s nose, and she looked down at their feet as she daringly moved forward.

“I’m okay with that,” she whispered as she looked back to his face. Mat only quirked his brow in response.

“I think it’s time I focus less on pushing you away, and more on just…” Genevieve tenderly wrapped her arms around Mat’s neck. “Just finally letting things happen the way they’re supposed to,” she spoke.

Mat froze for a moment, then broke into an enormous grin. “Yeah?” he asked in awe.

She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded, driving him insane. He pressed her lower back into his body as she assured, “Yeah. This is what I want.”

Mat barely let her speak that last word before capturing her lips in a searing kiss — all the nerves and anxiety about avoiding this melting away in a heartbeat as she moaned softly into his mouth, eliciting a smile from him against her skin.

“You’re beautiful, G,” Mat whispered when he finally came up for air. “You know that?” Genevieve blushed and tried to hide her face in Mat’s chest, but with a roll of his eyes, he caught her chin between his thumb and index finger and angled her face toward his own.

“No, none of that,” he said. “I’ve waited this long to be with you, G. Just let me look at you and tell you how gorgeous you are.”

Mat felt the warmth of her cheeks as he caressed them with the backs of his hands, losing himself in her criminally blue eyes.

“You are something else, Maty,” she said, letting her hands rest on his taut stomach as she leaned into him. “Now we really have to go, or we’re gonna be late.” With one last kiss pressed against his lips, Genevieve spun away from him, grabbed the pearl clutch from her bed, and tossed him a particularly wicked glance over her shoulder, laughing at his dumbfounded expression as she drifted out of the room.

And as he watched her walk away from him, hips swaying beneath the satin of her dress...

Mat knew he had no choice but to follow wherever she led.

_____

Whether she was aware of it or not, the girl knew how to command a room.

As Mat watched Genevieve engage the many high-profile sponsors and potential donors in the ballroom, he found himself thinking that he really didn’t even need to be here. She had this in the bag, and he was just arm candy for the night. And he realized he didn’t mind a bit.

Even so, he couldn’t help but swell with pride when she regularly turned away from conversations throughout the evening, searching the many faces in the crowd until she found his, her shoulders relaxing and her eyes flashing with affection when she finally did.

Finally, Mat sensed that the peace he had long ago found in her, she now felt in him. Nothing could ever make him happier than that.

Despite having different food and flowers than what Genevieve had planned, the event was a smashing success. She learned from her professor near the end of the gala that they had raised a quarter of a million dollars for the Islanders Children’s Foundation in this single night — a figure which made her nearly choke on her champagne and subsequently back Mat into a coat closet to reveal privately. Only he was more excited about the triumph than she, clutching excitedly at her sides as he pulled her to himself for a fiery kiss and gleefully congratulated her, both of them trying to stay as quiet as possible to remain undetected. When they regained their composure, they walked regally arm in arm back into the ballroom to say their thank you’s and goodbyes.

As they waited outside for the valet, Mat held Genevieve from behind, his arms encircling her waist under the grand stone archways of the old building. In her ear, he whispered her praises, pressing a kiss to her temple or jaw between each adjective as they awaited their ride.

“Smart. Beautiful. Capable. Stunning. Perfect. Worthy. Mine.”

That last one prompted her to spin in his arms, unashamed of who might see, and grasp his face for a firm kiss.

“Yours,” she whispered back dreamily.

_____

Soon they were back at her apartment building, rushing down the hall hand in hand, fully prepared to take advantage of Beau’s night on the town. Mat was mouthing hungrily at the back of Genevieve’s neck, from one side to the other, as she squealed and clumsily unlocked the door — a feat which took approximately five times as long as it normally did, considering the distraction hanging off of her, snaking its long arms around her torso as she finally tumbled through the doorway. Mat held onto her hips with a laugh to prevent her from falling on her face onto the tile beneath them, pulling her upward to resume their makeout until…

“Don’t you two look cute.”

Beau’s voice rang from the couch, startling both Mat and Genevieve as she pushed him away to create some distance between them. Mat cleared his throat as he unceremoniously gathered his footing beneath him. They both stood motionless in the entryway for several moments before Genevieve blinked at the basketball game playing on the television.

“Wait. What the hell, Anth… you’re watching the Nets game on TV? What happened to your date?” Genevieve asked as she took a few steps into the living room, tossing her clutch onto the couch so that she could put both hands on her hips and aim as much attitude as possible at her cousin.

“Yeah, I lied about that. The Nets are in Boston tonight, you geniuses,” Anthony informed them casually, taking the last swig from his beer bottle and placing it on the coffee table as he leaned forward.

“What do you mean, you lied? What the fuck, man?” Mat asked, incredulous.

“I did it on purpose!” Anthony bellowed, before the two gaped at him. “You two goons haven’t figured it out on your own by now, so I figured if I ditched, forced you into some alone time, bought G a pretty dress, maybe you’d see yourselves for what you really are. Hopelessly, disgustingly in love with each other. And apparently, it worked.”

Mat ran a hand slowly through his hair, tugging on his locks with a quiet laugh. Genevieve stood still, a hand suspended in mid-air, and whispered, “You planned this?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Of course I planned this,” he confirmed. “You really think I would just bail on you at the last minute for some girl? No! I knew you’d ask Mat, and I knew he would come to your rescue, and I knew you guys would have a great night together. Win, win, win.” Anthony rested his back against the couch once more, propping his feet up on the coffee table and folding his hands behind his head as he waggled his eyebrows. “I’m good, huh?” he remarked.

Mat took four quick strides toward his best friend and made a show of grabbing Anthony’s face and pressing a lip-smacking kiss to his forehead, which Anthony giggled over and wiped away, shaking his head.

“You’re my hero, man,” Mat spoke as he returned to Genevieve’s side and tucked her beneath his arm. Timidly, Genevieve asked Anthony, “You mean you’re not mad?”

Anthony’s big eyes grew even wider. “Mad?! My best friend and practically my sister are finally making each other happy. I’d be crazy to be mad! Or I’d be the Grinch. And I’m not the Grinch!” he assured as he pointed towards them.

Genevieve beamed, walking his way and placing a kiss to his cheek, squeezing his arm.

“Merci beaucoup,” she whispered when she pulled back from his face, only to see that he was smiling from ear to ear. He gave her a solemn nod.

Genevieve extended a hand toward Mat which he accepted gladly, then she turned back to her cousin.

“Well, on that note, since your plan was such a success, and so was my event, Mat and I are gonna go celebrate,” she informed him with a grin. Anthony chuckled and lifted his beer bottle in their direction.

“Cheers to that,” he said. “I’ll just turn up the volume.”

Mat and Genevieve laughed and said goodnight before making their way down the hall. Mat couldn’t close the door fast enough before spinning her and pinning her against it as she smirked, her form melting into his as he kissed her fiercely. For several minutes they stayed there as one, with their parting lips and their breathing the only sounds in the room. Soon, Mat pulled back, both his hands holding Genevieve’s face as he searched her eyes.

“Promise me this is really what you want, G. Promise me you won’t push me away again,” he implored, his voice sounding needier than it ever had. Genevieve felt the stab at her gut upon remembering once more that she’d really almost fucked this up.

She sifted her fingers through his long, coal black hair of his and looked into his green-flecked eyes, which begged her for reassurance. Mat swallowed thickly as she cupped his strong jaw.

“I promise I won’t, Mathew,” she whispered. “I won’t. I can’t. I need you.”

With that, she squeezed his cheeks between her fingers and smothered his lips with her own. Mat tasted the sweet champagne on her skin and moaned.

“Mine,” he said again, gruffly this time, into her ear as he trailed hot kisses down her jaw.

“Yours,” she repeated breathlessly.

#juliaswinterwriting #my writing #mathew barzal #mat barzal #barzal #nhl #hockey #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal fanfic #mathew barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal fanfiction #mathew barzal writing #mat barzal writing #hockey writing #nhl writing #anthony beauvillier

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

Text

“All you have to do is ask.” Chapter 2 - [Reid x Reader]

previous chapter // main page // next chapter

Summary: After the conversation in Nebraska, there’s some tension between our favorite genius and Reader. A peace offering, a rainstorm, and some unexpected questions should clear that right up.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Rating: Mature (not all chapters contain smut, those that do will be marked)

Category: Smut, fluff, and a bit of angst.

Word Count: 2.3k for Chapter 2

Content Warning: Some slight angst for Chapter 2

A/n: I hope y’all are liking this so far! No smut in this chapter, but I more than make up for it in chapter 3. Promise.

IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTE: It was brought to my attention that the angst in this chapter appears to be something it is not. I mean, I know how the story ends, so I didn’t see it that way. But it’s a valid concern. I address it in chapter 6, but I’ve made edits to chapter 3 to address it a bit too. Reader is afraid to trust anyone, that is all. I promise.

y/n = your name

y/l/n = your last name

italicized text are Reader’s inner thoughts.

-- Chapter 2: I fucking beg your goddamn pardon? --

Once we pinned down the gender of the unsub, it wasn’t hard to help the locals close the case. Anna Marie Wilcox, 29. A pretty blonde girl with haunted eyes, betrayed by every man in her life. She just wanted to take her power back.

Cool motive; still murder.

The flight back to Quantico was quiet. Hotch spoke with Rossi before take-off, telling us that he was flying back from San Francisco after visiting his daughter and grandson and that he would see us on Monday. After that, everyone seemed to slip into their own world. This wasn't uncommon. After working day and night to save lives, digging your way into the darkest corners of a murderer’s mind, you needed to decompress a bit.

JJ was asleep in the back of the cabin, Emily sitting beside her while she reviewed some files. Hotch was writing at the small table, Morgan sitting opposite him, eyes closed while he listened to whatever played through his headphones.

And I was on the couch with Dr. Spencer Reid. I was very surprised when he boarded the jet and made a beeline towards where I was sitting without hesitation. He hadn't spoken to me or even looked at me for longer than 5 seconds since our talk at the precinct. I could tell my blunt words had an effect on him, which wasn't surprising to me. I tried not to stereotype people, I knew better than anyone else how wrong those stereotypes could be; but, if I ever had to guess a person I thought would be a submissive, I’d guess Spencer Reid.

My back was angled on the couch, pressing into the corner where the armrest met the backrest, my legs crossed in front of me. I had my phone in my head, swiping mindlessly on a puzzle game that didn't require any cell phone signal to play. I always found myself doing that after a case, it calmed me.

Dr. Reid was pretending to read.

He’s not even being convincing, I thought, trying to keep my face neutral. You read 20,000 words a minute, baby. You’ve been staring at that page for 5 minutes. Unable to resist, I shifted in my seat. I slowly uncrossed my legs, the small slit in the side of my skirt becoming visible at the movement.

Did I wear this skirt on purpose? Yes, yes, I did.

I let out a soft sigh before re-crossing my legs. I watched him out of the corner of my eye the entire time. His eyes followed my movements, his breath hitching slightly. He moved his gaze up my body until he got to my eyes, which he was surprised to find were on him. He cleared his throat before going back to his book, little splotches of red on his cheeks.

I smirked. All you have to do is ask, Dr. Reid.

Nothing happened until Thursday the following week. I had all but given up hope that Spencer Reid would finally cave and come to me. Shame, I thought. He would look so pretty when he begged.

The unit's caseload had been lighter than normal, with no cases that required us to travel. We did some consulting and wrote up some preliminary profiles for the law enforcement agencies that asked for our help. We had been traveling so much over the past few months, I think Hotch was just trying to give us a break.

A loud clap of thunder broke the silence of the bullpen. Then it seemed as if the sky opened up a second later, the heavy rain falling like a curtain outside the windows.

“That’s dramatic,” Emily Prentiss commented.

Morgan made a sound of agreement before turning his head to look at Reid. “Have fun walking to the train station in that, pretty boy.” His face split into a smile as Spencer shot him a glare. JJ, Emily, and I all laughed at their exchange. His eyes didn’t go to JJ or Emily though, those caramel brown eyes swung in my direction.

At the end of the workday, Garcia was the first out the door. She walked past the bullpen and gave a big wave. “Goodbye, my darlings. I will see you in the morning…unless there is a terrible murder!”

The team smiled and returned her goodbye. Derek was out of his seat in a flash, trailing after her. I couldn’t help but wonder about the two of them sometimes.

“Bye Spence,” I heard JJ say as she passed the boy wonder’s desk. “Try not to drown out there.” Emily laughed as she walked up beside JJ, standing just a little too close. I wondered about them too, if I’m honest.

When it was just me and the object of my attention left, I got my bag and approached his desk. “Hey, Doc.”

He didn’t look up, making it seem like putting files and papers into his messenger bag required his full attention. “Hi, y/l/n.”

Well, this wouldn’t do at all. “It’s still pouring outside. Do you need a ride? I’d hate for you to have to walk a block in this storm.”

“I’ll manage,” he muttered, still not meeting my eyes.

I let out a sigh. “Spencer.” His eyes finally raised to meet mine. “I’m sorry if I stepped over the line in Nebraska. It was unprofessional. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but I continued. “I hope that we can move past this, I really miss my friend.”

He took a moment to adjust his glasses. He never wore them anymore, and I have to admit that my heart sputtered a bit when I saw him in them this morning. “We were friends before?” He chuckled slightly, earning a smile for me. I’d only been with the BAU for 7 months, and while I was friendly with my co-workers, Spencer and I had never had a particularly close bond.

“I like to think so,” was my reply, giving him a small smile. “And if we weren’t before, I hope we can be one day.” With one final look in those eyes, I turned. “Have a good night, Doc.”

I was halfway to the elevators when I heard him. “Y/n!” I turned to see him hurrying towards me. He smiled at me; and it was his real smile, not the polite smile he gave others. It was a full-blown smile that lit his whole face up. My stomach fluttered. “If you don’t mind, I’d actually like a ride. If you’re still willing?”

Still so nervous, even now. “Of course, pretty boy,” Morgan’s nickname for him slipping from my lips without a thought. “Follow me.”

It wasn’t the thing I had been hoping all week that he’d ask me, but it was a start.

The drive to Spencer’s apartment took longer than it should have. I was driving slower because of the storm; I was also driving slower because other drivers weren’t driving slowly.

"This type of rain is so heavy it cuts the visibility more than the average storm," the good doctor said. "Under normal precipitation, it's advised that you reduce your speed by at least 10 miles to account for less traction."

“Huh,” I responded, glancing down at my speedometer.

He cleared his throat. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

I risked a quick glance at him to see him shifting in his seat. “Do what, Doc?”

“Ramble,” Spencer said softly. “I ramble when I’m nervous, and I’m trying really hard not to be nervous.”

My heart ached for him in that moment. This brilliant, brilliant, man, the smartest and kindest person in any room, was nervous about talking to me. My right hand lifted from the steering wheel before I could think better of it, touching his arm lightly. “Please don’t be nervous around me, Spencer.” His whole body stiffened at my touch. “Shit! I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t like to be touch.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “I just keep fucking this up, don’t I?” My chuckle was sad, and a little bit bitter.

“It’s not that,” he said quickly. “I was just surprised. I don’t…I don’t mind if you touch me.”

I didn’t try to hide the shock on my face. “You don’t, huh?”

I swear I could almost hear the blush in his voice. “I d-didn’t mean it like t-.”

“Spence,” I cut him off. “I know. I was just teasing.”

He let out a small chuckle at that. "Oh. Right." There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. "You know, you've never called me Spence before." I simply nodded in agreement. He was right, I hadn't. I hadn't even meant to do it then. He continued on. “Actually, you only call me Spencer when the conversation is serious. Other than that it’s always Doc…or occasionally Reid.” The chuckle that left him put a smile on my face.

“You’re right, Doc.” I glanced over at him and smiled. “Tell you what, I don’t want you to be nervous around me. At all. So, I’m giving you blanket consent right now.” I really hoped I knew what I was doing. “You can ask me any question you want. You can tell me anything. I promise I won’t judge you.”

“…Really?” He sounded almost like he was in awe.

I nodded. “Yes, really. The thought of making you nervous makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want you to feel that way in front of me.” My voice was soft, reassuring. Maybe it was the soft dom in me that recognized his submissive, but I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to feel safe.

Spencer Reid took a deep breath before he spoke again. He acted like it was no big deal, but the words he said afterward gave me a mild heart attack. "Okay, can you tell me about your BDSM experiences?"

I fucking beg your goddamn pardon?

I sputtered a bit. “…Seriously?” My eyes were wide, I didn’t risk looking at him.

“W-well,” he sounded unsure now. “You said I could ask you anything.”

“You can! You absolutely can!” I heard him let out a breath. “I’m just…surprised that’s what you went with. That’s all. But…I don’t mind telling you if you really want to know.”

“I do,” he whispered.

I smiled over at him. “Okay, Doc. What do you wanna know?”

Spencer chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Maybe just walk me through what you like to do. Or what you usually do. Or how you got into it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, that’s all?” I shook my head. “Alright. I was 21 when I first got into it. I had a…he wasn’t really my boyfriend. I guess you can say a friend with benefits.” I saw him nod his head in understanding. “And one day he asked me if I knew anything about BDSM. At that time, I only knew misconceptions and rumors; which is why I told him I wasn’t interested. The thought of someone tying me down and doing whatever they wanted to me sounded terrifying. But he clarified that he thought I would enjoy being a dominant. We tried it out a few times…and I liked it.”

Spencer cleared his throat. “So…is that the only kind of sex you have?”

I pondered over how to answer him. “That’s…a complicated question. I’m not not answering. I think I should just explain a bit more first." He made a noise of affirmation before I continued on. "What I do during a scene sort of depends on my submissive. Before anything happens, we have to have a really in-depth conversation, discussing hard and soft limits, punishments, expectations, and things like that." I glanced over, confirming I hadn't lost him. "Like I mentioned, I'm a soft dom. But, I usually can bend to what my submissive likes, as long as I’m comfortable.”

“So, what would you do? If you got to pick everything?”

You keep on surprising me, Doctor, I thought.

“Well, I like bondage, choking, degradation, but only if it’s light and done right.” I don’t know why I felt the need to explain that. “Then I’m fine with oral sex, praise, orgasm denial, overstimulation, and pegging.”

Spencer was quiet. “A-and pegging is the…”

“What the unsub was doing to her victims? Yes, Spencer.”

“…Oh,” was all the boy genius said.

I continued on, trying to provide context. “I usually like to build up the relationship a bit before I bust out a strap on, though.” I worked hard to keep my voice even. “I’ll use toys on him first, usually.”

“You didn’t say sex.”

Shit. "Beg pardon?" I asked like I was clueless about what he meant.

Dr. Reid’s voice was firm; it was the voice he used on cases, the steady voice that explained concepts that anyone else would miss. “You said oral sex. You said you’d…you’d…do that-“

“Oh, for God’s sake, Doc,” I interrupted with a laugh. “We’re less than 3 minutes from your apartment and we’re having a conversation about BDSM. You can say fuck.”

“Fine,” he huffed. “You said you fuck them. But you never said you’d let them fuck you.”

Fucking profilers. “Yes, that’s right. That’s why it was so hard for me to answer your earlier question. I don’t have traditional sex with my submissives.”

His voice was confused when he asked, “But why?”

I clicked my tongue. “That, my darling, is a conversation I avoid at all costs. And we’re at your apartment.”

Spencer glanced around, surprised we’d arrived already, despite how long the drive took in the rain. I knew what he was going to do before he did it. I was already formulating my answer when he said, “Y/n…would you want to come up to my apartment? So we could keep talking?”

“Sure, Spence. If that’s what you want.”

message/comment to be added to the series tag list! thank you for reading :)

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tokoyamisstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Betrothed Ch. 6 - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 6: Bold

Summary: Two pretty unusual family meetings, but one of them lacks a happy end.

Warnings: Angst, Family Drama.

Words: ~4300

Story Masterlist

A/N: Tumblr accidentally posted the unfinished draft a few days ago. Sorry for the confusion! As a treat, you get a very long chapter! (:

Before you were married, Illumi was rarely at home.

He had no one to come home to anyway, let alone someone who cared.

Anyway, this was only one of many things you had changed.

These times, whenever he left, it was only for a good reason like missions, training or caring for his siblings. Sometimes family conferences you were allowed to attend as well, yet not to talk.

Whenever he got home, it felt so cozy and peaceful.

Like he was welcomned and safe here - unlike anything he knew before.

Your home would always smell like scented candles, the many flowers you had planted at the balconry, and whatever you were cooking at the time.

It was very lovely and kinda cheesily decorated by now. Most of the things were stuff you asked Illumi to bring home from his missions, but lately he got you anything he thought you'd like.

Of course you were grateful for everything. It meant he took the time and actually think about what you'd appreciate!

Occasionally, you’d bring home injured animals you found in the forrest surrounding Kurokoo mountain. Sometimes your husband reluctantly assisted you, even though he found kindness futile - he just couldn’t say no to your begging eyes, so be it.

From you, he got love and care in return for his efforts. But a wild animal? Well, if he thought about it, he consdiered himself lacking a real consciousness just as much as the pets you kept.

One day, he’ll understand why people help each other without wanting something back - you promised him. Even though he always emphasized that saving such small lives won’t redeem him anyway.

Yes, the weight of his sins was sure massive - especially now that it all broke down on him, suffering under his newfound sympathy.

You swiped through your phone, adoring all the photos you persuaded him to take together.

It filled your heart with joy to notice every small change he underwent:

He'd run himself a bath from time to time, buy sweets or other things to try out, and spent his free time reading or wandering the estate's forrest instead of thoughtlessly staring into the void.

And for the more nasty things, well...let’s just say Illumi is a quick learner. And you were glad that he began taking the initiative and try out things he may enjoy.

Your husband was more and more developing a personality.

"She's so pretty!"

"Yeah, right?" you proudly commanded the owl to come back, and she immediately landed on your lap. "Her name is Luna."

“She was a gift from big bro Illumi, right?” Your familiar had grown strong very fast, yet it's claws never hurt you. Sometimes you almost forgot that Luna was a dangerous animal rather than a cuddly pet. “Yes, she is!”

"Maybe we can play in the forrest some day. I just need some time to convince your parents."

Alluka was sitting on a chair next to you, cheerfully petting the patient bird. "Thanks, big sis!"

Illumi's little sister was probably the only normal person in this building. No nen, no assassin training either, and a loving nature.

If only there wasn't-

"Y/N!" Oh no. Your husband was back earlier than you expected. "Did you bail her out again?!"

"Big bro!" the little girl cheered, jumping down the stair and wobbling to his direction.

There was not the slightest hint of hate inside of her. Even though she was alone all the time, she was blissfully unaware about her own family resenting her.

"Illumi!" That was the first time you actually raised your voice against him. "Take.down.the. needle. Right now!"

You kept Alluka from getting closer to Illumi, defendingly wrapping your arms around her.

God knows what he'd do...

"Then get that thing out of my face."

Actually, you didn't want to fight in front of a child, but Alluka needed constant superveilance . "How can you be so cruel? She's your sister!"

"Did you make a wish?"

"Of course not! I used my nen to get her out unnoticed, so she could spent some time like a normal child. I would've brought her back tonight. That's all, really! I promise!"

Suddenly, you felt a foreign, powerful aura under your palms.

Damn it.

You forgot her last wish was a hug, which was exactly what you gave her right now.

"Aye."

"That's enough." Illumi already had his needles prepared, infusing them with nen. "I'll end this right here."

You knew he didn't mean it like this. He was afraid of Nanika's powers, and even if this wouldn't end in a disaster, his parents would punish you for your reckless actions.

"Nanika?"

The girl answered, her blackened orbs obediantly glaring at you. "Aye?"

"Y/N" Illumi almost growled, still hesistant. "Know your place."

"Give Illumi a hug."

Baffled, Illumi's needles disappeared into thin air. The girl didn't even reach up to the tall man's thorso, rather embracing one of his legs.

She was so small and weak and fragile - and for the first time, Illumi was able to acknowledge the affection his sister felt for him.

"See?" you calmly explained, now hugging him as well. "Nanika is not evil. Only the people's wish are."

"...she's all alone" he spoke to himself, trying to at least logically understand the situation. "Just like you when I'm gone."

He didn't get it.

Hard enough to understand why you were caring so much about him, but Alluka? The sibling he always despised, insulted, abused, and locked away?

There were still so many things he didn't know yet.

"Well, if it's only the two of you, and I'm supervising..." he mumbled, kneeling down to the girl's height, "Then I guess I can promise you a few liberties."

Alluka's face and aura were back to normal, her glimmering eyes blinking happily at her brother, who was absentmindedly petting her hair.

"Great!" You clasped your hands together, disappearing in the kitchen. "Let's make a hot chocolate for you guys!"

Quickly, you reappeared to the two sitting on the sofa with an awkard distance, until you wrapped them in a blanket.

Illumi sat in middle of you two, deeply buried in thought while you and Alluka were watching TV until she fell asleep.

"I'll bring her back now" you whispered softly, but Illumi already cradled the snoring girl into his arms. "No. I will."

For a second, you were taken aback, unsure about his intentions - but you wanted to believe in him, so you stayed quiet about your apprehensions.

"She's cute, right?" you noticed as Illumi got a strand of hair out of her face. He held her with such great care and insecurity, it was a truly cute sight.

"Dunno. I know the definition of cute, but I don't think I really understand it."

"You are cute, for example." Placing a wet kiss on his cheek, you waved him goodbye as he walled out the door - but in the frame, he stopped.

"You're changing so many things at once."

"For better or worse?"

Illumi wouldn't turn around to look at you, instead watching Alluka's soundly sleeping face.

"I don't know. We'll see."

When Illumi took longer than expected, panic began to rise inside of you.

Did his parents find out? Due to your powers this should basically be impossible, but still-

"Alluka wanted me to stay and play with her" Illumi's voice appeared behind your back, making you jump a little.

So that's why he took so long.

"Was it fun?"

"I'm not a good brother" he murmured, "Not to her or any of them."

He remembered the time he got Kalluto a kimono you picked out for him, as a gift.

“You’ve changed” the boy said back then, and the confusion in his eyes made Illumi painfully aware that the child was close to become just as inhuman as he was.

And he was the one who teached his siblings to be that way.

Your husband sat on the edge of the bed, with you already laying inside. He buried his face into his hands, seemingly distressed.

Yes, it was fun. Even though he didn't know how to properly entertain a child, Alluka seemed to enjoy her brother's attention inconditionally - just like you did.

Was that love?

"You just tried to protect your family, Lumi" you cooed, massaging his tensed shoulders.

"What about yours?" he suddenly asked, turning to you with a stony expression.

"I, uh-"

"Do you miss them?" Seems like he was afraid to lose you.

You tugged on his arm until he'd finally let himself fall into the bed, and you put an arm and leg around him, effectively trapping him into your hold.

"Of course I do. But this is my home now."

"And they're nice people?" he wondered, since your parents were assassins too.

He laid his head onto your chest, trying for your heartbeat to lull him to sleep.

"They are...special. Strict but loving. I think all parents fuck up their children somehow. But I still love them."

Both of you had already closed your eyes, his cold skin feeling refreshing on your warm one.

"Then let's meet them" Illumi suggested as his hand ran across your bodyline, before he stopped himself with a tender kiss on your skin.

"I want to know what other families are like."

Only a week later, you were allowed to leave the Zoldyck estate for the first time. Wether it was because of Illumi’s curiosity or maybe that he knew you missed your family, it didn’t matter.

Two different worlds.

Your family was living in the midst of the small town, loved by the inhabitants. Being honorable head hunters who mainly killed wanted criminals and acting as protectors of the city, you had kind of a reputation.

So it was no wonder everyone you saw greeted you with great respect, yet also as if you were never gone.

That was what a real home must feel like, Illumi thought as he watched you casually talk to anyone who recognized you while both of you wandered the main street.

“They sure think highly of you” he deducted out loud, seeing how anyone was smiling and cheering at you.

“Well...” Flustered, you rubbed the back of your head as you kept on walking, “I’ve grown up in between those people. Of course they know me! That’s all.”

“Mhh” he murmured, still eyeing everyone quite suspecting. This was your first day outisde the manor, and your husband would be damned if something would happen to you.

“There it is!” Already running ahead, you pointed at the tallest building of the town - your birthplace.

“Y/N Y/L/N” a familiar voice behind you spoke, trying way too hard to keep a straight face.

Turning around, you saw all of your siblings gathered at one spot. Of course you knew they had followed you this whole time, due to your nen - but it was still a pleasant surprise. “You guys!”

Giving each one of them a wholeheartedly hug, you immediately began to chatter about all kinds of things. You haven’t seen each other for a while, and you wanted to know everything.

“Better tell me next time” Illumi abruptly cut you off, and only now you realized the needles in between his fingers. “I almost killed them.”

Oh. So he noticed them too.

Well, your family had it worse, so they just laughed it off.

“So this is your husband, huh?” They didn’t dare speak his name - the family was too infamous, and not in a positive way. it wouldn’t really gain you the good kind of attention. “I thought you’d be more...intimidating.”

All of your siblings got way too close to Illumi, aving hands in front of his face and eyeing his appearance, at least trying to make the stoic man react in any way.

“Nice to meet you!” One of your brothers offered his hand for your husband to shake, yet Illumi decided on staring him down instead.

“Pleasure is all mine” he retorted in his robotic way, sounding way too fake for anyone to buy it.

At least they were not afraid of him. Your husband was very talented in hiding his bloodlust, after all - even though it was constantly there, not even a skilled nen user would notice.

“Mother and father are awaiting you at the usual spot.” Your brother’s voice was more serious now that he had assessed the situation.

It was clear from the very first moment that they didn’t only come to greet you - their main goal was the eldest Zoldyck.

“Seems like he’s now our leader” you pondered as all of them dispersed into different directions.

Things had changed. Of course they did.

Back then, you declined your fate of becoming the clan-leader, even though it had been the centre of all your ambitions up until now.

Meeting Illumi made you question anything you expected from life.

You didn’t even know why: What would it matter if you left an assassin family just to join another one?

Even your youngest sister was different. You could feel her steady aura, meaning she had completed her training.

The situation made you both nostalgic and anxious.

“Do you regret it?” Illumi’s blank stare turned to your form, black orbs interrogating you. He knew you were meant to be a leader, yet you gave up on that dream and had laid down all your independency.

“Not really.” Shrugging, you quickly linked arms with your husband, leading him to the secret entrance of the headquarters. It was sealed with nen, just like back then.

At leas that didn’t change, and so you’d soon find yourself in the middle of the hall where you’d plan all of the operations back then.

“You’re home.” That solemn tone was fitting for your father: Hard to detect his emotions, but easy to understand. “Welcome home.”

Illumi took a few steps back, almost withdrawing into a dark corner of the room as if he wanted to disappear from this earth. He was more likely to be a mere bystander or observer than to be in social situations.

“My little angel of death!” your mother almost cried out, both incredibly happy and sorrowful. “You’ve returned to us!”

“And that handsome young man over there?” After she was done smothering your face in kisses, she directed her welcoming nature to Illumi was well. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Take a seat!”

That’s right. She’s never seen him before. He was here exactly once to propose in front of your father - god knows how he even got inside. Obviously it wasn’t really a big deal to him.

Your family was so insignificant compared to his heritage - not that it mattered to you, it was just an observation.

“When we heared your wish to bid our humble fort a visit, we were greatly honored” your father declared as all of you sat down at the great, round table. Now everyone was there: Siblings, uncles and aunts, even your grandparents and great-grandparents. “And we are glad of your safe arrival.”

Illumi didn’t really seem to be impressed, being able to silence the room with a single gesture of his hand. “Don’t go out of your way. I am here because Y/N wished to see you.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his polite manner, even though he wasn’t very talkative. Trying to get a hold of his hand under the table, you’d spend the day just like that.

Hours just flew by as your family held a great dinner to honor ‘the happy couple’, with Illumi absorbing every little detail like a dry sponge: Daily conversations about irrelevant topics, tales about the past and especially the childhood.

He even managed to show a lopsided smile when he realized something made you particulary happy.

Yet everytime someone of your family tried to get close to you, all of you noticed how tense he became.

Of course he was very possessive, and didn’t want to share you with anyone. But it was so damn sweet that he at least tried to get himself together...

“I’ll be waiting outisde. Might give the town a visit.” Even through all of your objections, your husband was gone faster than any of you could comprehend. “Take all the time you need.”

“He’s amazing” you thought to yourself, not noticing how much you were trembling due to your excitement. Being here together with him was such a huge progress, and he was doing so damn great.

“Y/N?” Your father was the first one to take the word, clearing his throat before continuing. “Now that we’re alone...”

Of course he knew they weren’t. Illumi was supervisioning everything somehow. But they waited for so long, and needed to let it out.

It was ‘speak now or stay silent forever’.

“Tell us about life with the Zoldycks.” Your sister once again let her hand run up and down your arm, and you realized this wasn’t just loving closeness - they were searching for injuries. “Are they harsh on you?”

“His family is pretty crazy, but it’s nothing wild, really. I manage” you stated, pulling away from the touch of your siblings.

All of the eyes were on you now, dropping the act. Everything left was sympathy and...guilt?

“So...what’s your point?” You didn’t know why, but their glares made you furious somehow. Maybe because you knew what they were hinting at. “Just speak your mind.”

“Y/N, dear...” Now your mother was the one taking the initiative, squeezing your hand ever so slightly. “We’re so, so sorry! You need to understand why we did this, okay?”

“Did what?” When they didn’t respond, you repeated the question with a much weaker, almost broken voice. “Did...what?!”

“Isn’t it obvious?” your brother now spoke, almost disgusted by what he was about to say. “Giving you away to this...freak.”

“Huh?”

Your mother now clung to you, as if you were about to disappear if she was to ever let go. “There was no other choice!” she exclaimed, while your father dramatically swung his balled fist on the table. “The Zoldycks are dangerous! We knew your fate was sealed when he came asking for your hand in marriage...”

“Of course we despise that sick weirdo. Who would wish for their child to be with someone like him?!” your father continued, his explanation wrenching your heart dry. “But if we hadn’t complied, they would’ve taken you by force. You know they would’ve killed all of us. It was to protect the family, so we had to give you up! My sweet, sweet child-”

“-shut up” you whispered as you felt tears burning in your eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/N” your sister was trying to wipe them away, letting her thumb run over your cheek. “We’ve grown stong now, Y/N! You don’t need to protect us anymore, we’re-”

“You still don’t stand any chance against them.” You got up from your chair, slamming your palms on the table. “But that’s not the point!”

“What did that monster do to you?”

“Oh, he? Nothing!” you now screamed, slamming a plate to the ground to release some of the built-up tension. “In opposite to you, who abandoned their daughter to save their own skin!”

You didn’t know. How could you have missed that fact? Those people weren’t glad you married him, they just weren’t honest with you.

And they were selfish - for all they cared, they would’ve given you away to die if Illumi had been that way.

“My husband-” you choked on a sob, feeling as if the love you felt for Illumi was crushing you, keeping you from breathing freely. “He’s been here with you, wanting to understand what a normal family is like. But only now I realize this one is just as fucked up!”

“Don’t say something like tha-”

“I’m not done!” Suddenly, an outburst of your aura shook the whole room. “Illumi is a kind and confused person. He was benevolent with you, against all of his teachings. And you are talking behind his back? How cowardly of you. I thought we were a family of proud warriors!”

All of them were looking at each other, nodding in unity as they all thought the same.

“Illumi Zoldyck is probably the most dangerous of them all. Maybe not the strongest, but the most mad of them all.” You grid your teeth, almost snarling at your grandfather’s words. “Don’t fool yourself, Y/N. Love is a foreign concept for him. The word has spread across the whole continent: Even his own family, those bloodthirsty monsters fear that young man!”

“You don’t know him like I do.” Turning around, you prepared to leave - but your siblings blocked the way. “As if I’d listen to the opinions of people who gave me away just like that.”

“Listen to us, Y/N. Maybe you can free yourself. He might’ve placed a needle-”

“That’s enough.”

Your eyes widened in wonder. How did Illumi get back in without any of you noticing?

Yet here he was, and his aura had turned purple, stained with black from all the disappointment, hurt and anger he miraculously contained without breaking down.

“I think Y/N is tired and wants to leave.” His voice was as unaffected as always, yet one look of him was enough to make your siblings freeze in terror.

“You’re Y/N’s family, so I won’t kill you” your husband declared in an absentminded tone, grabbing your wrist and turning towards the exit without anyone daring an attempt to stop him. Just after he shoved you out of the door, Illumi would turn around one last time - a threatening ember sparkling in his eyes.

“But consider this a warning: Y/N belongs to me.”

“Why?” your father asked with an almost begging undertone. “Why did it have to be Y/N?”

“Because your child is important to me.”

Illumi had carried you all the way out of the town, only getting to a hold when you were at a mountain far enough away. Not that your family would follow you anyway.

After being done crying to your heart’s extend, your husband let you down in the slightly wet grass, and you were able to see the dim lights of the city far away at the horizon.

“We’ve played here very often” you sniffled, trying to get a hold of yourself. “My siblings and I.”

“Ah.”

You appreciated moments like these. Illumi was a very good listener, even though you weren’t even sure that he actually cared about what you were saying.

It just felt good to have him near when you were sad.

“I’m so terribly sorry, Lumi...they shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay.” No, it wasn’t You knew he tried to hard to be the best version of himself today, to try and respect boundaries and to trust people, and yet- “I am aware I’m a repulsive person.”

“Not to me.” Gently stoking his face, you could feel him rubbing his cheek on your palm in return.

“That’s enough for me.”

For a while, you just sat there, enjoying your closeness and the absence of anyone else in silence.

“So this is what family is like” Illumi cut through the nature’s sounds, “They protect you. And they only want your best.”

“They only ever thought of themselves.” You pulled your knees onto your chest, burying your face in them.

“I refuse to believe that.” Your husband wanted to pat your back, but decided against it just at the last second. “They seemed to be in great pain because of their actions. Can’t this only be because they cared about you?”

He was right, of course. The man with the heart of stone was great at knowing other people’s feelings, apparently. What an irony.

But you were too angry at that moment to listen to his rational explanation. That was only human, too.

“You know, when I was a child, my parents-”

“Please.” You wanted him to stop right there and now. “Don’t elaborate.”

Every time Illumi would complete a story about his childhood, it usually ended up with you having a crying fit. Then he was the one having to console you instead of the other way around, and it made you only feel guilty.

Of course you were happy that he’d finally open up a little, but...no. Just not now.

“You defended me” he changed the topic, quietly adding “Even though they were right...”

“That’s only natural. You’re my husband.”

Back then, you didn’t know Illumi’s intentions when he asked you to become his. But truth was, you didn’t regret it - not even for a second.

Illumi on the other hand was as overwhelmed as always.

“I was afraid you’d stay with them.” His voice sounded impassive, yet you knew him better than that. “But now-”

Listening to you passionately defending your husband’s honor was satisfying, obviously - yet knowing you broke with your family left a foul aftertaste in his mind.

No one ever stood up for him like that.

What a day.

His mind was racing, still trying to catch up with everything that had happened today: You did all of that, no - gave up so many things, just because of him.

His entire life was going one set and predetermined way, revolving around his family. Yet meeting you had changed both of your fates in a completely different direction.

And this meant he now had to learn with the consequences of actions he did out of his own, free will.

What for? And was it good or bad?

Now that he was with you, he had liberties. Choices. But freedom felt wrong and made him feel...scared? Not even he could decipher his emotions very well.

All that was clear from now on that - to a certain extend - you were free to draft your own ways - and together, it didn’t seem all that bad for him.

_____

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anxietysroomsupport · 3 years ago

Note

Hypermobile anon here. First, thank you so much. It's just nice to know there's someone here for me. And to give a little more info, I have a serious problem where if I'm not currently in pain. I don't remember how bad it was. I know everybody does this, but my brain literally checked out as I was going to bed recently and I fell on the floor. I nearly forgot to tell my physical therapist.about it because it didn't really hurt. So, I can't do the pain scale very well, and I never remember (1/2)

(2/2) It just makes it sort of hard for pain relief when I don't know I'm going to need it and don't have the energy when I do. Also, on the vitamin subject, I know that I've had vitamin d issues before (bad heat exhaustion and allergy scares = going outside less), bad enough that I was close to being diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I'm not sure about the others, but I do know I'm not amazing healthy, so? I take calcium pills for the vitamin d, though. Again, thank you guys for all your help.

We just got a bill from my PT place that says we owe money that we can't pay. They told us up front how much it would be with our insurance, and my mom's been paying each time, but it says we owe 177 dollars. Sure, it's not a lot, but we're not rich and trying to send a sibling to college. If we can't get this sorted out. I can't just not go. 10 exercises I can do at home and 5 appointments is not enough to help a chronic disorder. I cant focus and I have practice in 30 mins. -Hypermobility anon

Same day but later when I'm feeling a little better (my director was very supportive though so that's nice), I'd seen the letter and heard my parents talking a bit, but my mom told be as we got to school for rehearsal about PT. I got upset, and I felt bad because I could tell she felt bad because she didn't expect me to be upset, and in the heat of the moment I said "chronic illness" in front of my mom for the first time. She loudly (not quite yelling) (1/?) - Hypermobility anon

said to me "That is the most self-pitying thing I've ever heard. Chronic illnesses are like cancer". Sure, I probably should've said disorder and not illness, but I'm scientifically right. Then I said "It is, it's chronic pain, I am always in pain" and she said "Well then clearly PT isn't helping anyway" - I??? When I went in after 15 minutes after another girl, since we were both there for an hour and a half, I decided to stop trying too much to hide my crying (useful masks) (2/?) -HSD anon

since the other girl was in the hall to eat, and when I managed to explain to the director, she was understanding and nice, and when I said chronic, she said that I should never have to live with that, especially at my age. And when I mentioned not being able to sing at that moment from my crying, she pointed out how I was singing an empowering song that was about standing against the bad stuff in life, and I was perfect for it. I know my mom was just mad, but it just drained me.

Sorry I keep sending asks so often, I just feel like telling someone this. I decided to put 'zebra' in my bio. It's a thing that people with EDS and HSD sometimes like to call themselves. I like it, so even though I just have my name and pronouns, plus a random joke, in my bio, I added it. It just feels like a step in the right direction to remembering that I don't need google to tell me I'm dealing with this every 5 minutes. Accepting it, I guess. :) -HSD anon

My sleep schedule just keeps getting worse and I think it's my ADHD combined busy days and pain but I just never want to sleep anymore. I can't, I don't want to, and it hurts physically and mentally to just lie there and see if I can fall asleep. 80% sure my circadian rhythm changed to sleep at about 2 am but I get up at 7 and have a chronic disorder that's getting worse because of this I *need sleep*. And I'm so scared I'll mess up, want to make a side blog for it but want to make one (1/2)

for something happy first because I always figured that if I had side blogs they would be ask blogs or for fandoms or whatever. But I got a little better at not caring what other people think, so I haven't really needed one for fandom. But I looked through the tag and felt so comforted by some of the stuff that I just think it would help me. Maybe I'm just extra bad tonight because I went outside but also talked about it a fair amount with a friend I hadn't seen recently who didn't know. -HSD

I wanna talk to my physical therapist about hip braces because I tried a knee one we have and it honestly helps, but my hips are worst so I wanna see if it would help, but they're pretty expensive. It's hard to find dual hip braces, from what I've seen in my research, and even though one more than the other, both cause me issues. Idk, I'm conflicted, because it could help but is it worth all the effort? Also, even if it's under clothing it's still physical evidence (1/2) -HSD anon

(2/2) of my "invisible" disorder. Also, stopping exercises for a few days because of not feeling well from my covid shot reminded me of just how much time I spend on them, so it's another thing to deal with this. . . Idk, sometimes I just wonder if it would be better to just deal with it. I still have pain anyway, though it might be a little better. Less often, maybe? I don't really remember. It's not stressing at the front of my mind all the time, but the back of it. I'm just conflicted. -HSD

HSD anon here, idk if I mentioned it in an ask already, but recently I had a small breakdown because I was watching something where a character was in a car accident, as was trying to push through having trouble walking even with a hip brace. After a minute, I registered it and just thought "That could be my future". My joints had already been acting up and then they got worse, so I don't know if it was cause and effect? But I don't exactly know what to call it other than a trigger. (1/2)

Physical and emotional effect, at least I'm assuming on physical because I've had a bad reaction to something similar before, but like, I don't have trauma, I think it's more fear of the future. And I don't want to use trigger incorrectly, it's insensitive to those who actually have triggers. I'm just so confused.

Forgot to sign the last ask with 2/2 and HSD, whoops.

Hfnsiwk I'm not ready to walk into PT tomorrow and say that I don't think months of PT have been helping but I have no way to be completely sure because for all I know it's the weather since this is the first year I've known/it's been noticeable. Maybe it's just change, I don't know, but it just feels like such a waste of time if it really didn't help. Plus, I'd stop, and while that'd be great, I do enjoy being stronger, even if it didn't help pain. I have 12 hours and a bad pain day idek. -HSD

Hi Hypermobility Anon,

I think I found all your asks and got them in the correct order. And found your last ask!

I’m so glad you kept writing in. I think you should go ahead and make your side blog - you definitely have enough material for it. Wanting to make a happy side blog also is a great goal to have, but if you don’t know what it will be yet, don’t let that prevent you from doing something you know you want to do and that will probably help you.

You are dealing with So. Much. Your mom especially sounds like she just is not ready to accept the situation. It’s not self-pity to state your actual conditions. It’s just reality.

Forgetting about pain is normal, and really all you can do is try to write it down or make some kind of note about it in the moment or immediately after, so you can refer to it later. Maybe you can track your pain events in your phone notes.

I think your idea to add “zebra” to your bio is a good one, this is part of your life and just something you have to deal with. It sounds like you’re finding a community for this.

Sleep schedules are tricky, and feeling like you desperately need to sleep can make it so stressful that it starts a vicious little cycle. Some strategies to get around this are First, remember that just resting is okay and helpful too, even if you don’t fall asleep. Letting your body lay there to rest is good for you.

Second, if you’ve spent several minutes laying down without falling asleep, its okay to get up and walk around, or any small light exercise that’s comfortable for you. The goal with this one is to get out of the bed for a bit. It will help your brain to re-learn that the bed is for sleeping only, not for laying awake. That association can help signal to your brain to start its sleep-process when you get into bed at night.

Third, it’s really common to have a changing circadian rhythm during your teens and twenties. That’s just a thing that happens and you can’t do much about it, so just try not to worry too much. Sleep when it feels right and when you can, instead of trying to force yourself to sleep when you’re “supposed” to.

If hip braces would help you, you should definitely at least mention it to your physical therapist. You might research online for any used ones as well. A physical sign that you have pain can have good and bad consequences, but I think the good consequence of being in less pain far outweighs any others.

The triggering event you described is not so much a trigger as it is just a genuinely really upsetting situation. You related really strongly to the character you were watching, because they’re dealing with similar problems to you, and to problems you could have in the future. It’s a lot to process. But while you could potentially be in a car accident, remember that television is made to dramatize events and probably made it seem a lot more difficult and scary than it really would be.

Since we know you sometimes forget your pain, it’s safe to say that the exercises are helping you manage it, and you say that they’ve made you stronger in general. Those are good things, and I would recommend you continue the exercises you can do on your own even if you end of ending your physical therapy sessions. We don’t know yet if your pain might have gotten even worse without therapy. You’ll have to find that out on your own if you stop exercising, and then decide whether it’s more worth it to you to continue exercising or to live with the pain. Whichever you choose, it’s Your choice, Your body. Take care of yourself. <3

-bun

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prettywarriors · 4 years ago

Text

Fate The Winx Commentary

Good morning internet! Today is the drop of Winx: Riverdale edition! I sure hope you're ready for my aggressive and unnecessary commentary, because it is coming for you either way!

The netflix landing page lets us know:

Fate The Winx Saga

6 episodes, 48-53 minutes each

"Genres: Fantasy TV Shows, Teen TV Shows, Italian TV Shows"

"This show is: Emotional"

As mentioned elsewhere, my Winx knowledge is limited, so I will be coming into this fairly fresh and will try to be unbiased. As I have seen trailers, the keyword here is Try.

Episode 1

'To the Waters and the Wild'

CW: Animal Death, Swears, Implied Child Death, Blood, Implied Teen Sex, Burns, Weed, Fatphobia, Whatever the term pussie falls under

Episode 1 TL;DR: We meet everyone, learn their dynamics, have the basics of the magic system beat into us, meet our monsters, and name drop Harry Potter. Standard first episode stuff.

I do want it on record before we start that I got about halfway into the first season of Riverdale, and the first season of Netflix Sabrina. They were, well, bland and boring imo? I did get through a few seasons of Teen Wolf, but that's because it was capable of Fun and Jokes. My current expectations are a few unintentionally funny lines, maybe some almost decent magic effects, and because it's 2021, one whole gay character (I did hear one of the boys (there are boys?) is bi, but also an asshole so I'm hoping for some wlw)

TV-MA LANGUAGE AND SMOKING OH FUCKING BOY Almost full moon (waxing) in opening shot- I Will be tracking moon inconsistencies if it keeps showing up that is a pet peeve but hey look a bunch of sheep That's a good start (it's ominous though. don't hurt the sheep) Swears count: Feckin' 2 Mystical portal barrier. Oh yeah s5 of the magicians is on netflix now WELP THOSE ARE SHEEP GUTS RIGHT OUT THE GATE HUH For CW it's up a tree, and the dripping blood is a good warning of what's about to be seen :( oh and then the man who was looking for the sheep dies offscreen save for a spray of blood. THIS ISN'T YOUR CHILD'S WINX CLUB it seems to say. I assume. How much blood was in the original winx because this is already at least a full cup. (Also the monster noises for whatever was chasing the man (werewolf it was a werewolf trailers are bad guys) were not very good)

Opening credit scene is 5-6 different blooming elemental wings. They're pretty, but it's unclear if the last one is secret 6th member wings (because the second to last ones are fire which is the main character's element right?) so maybe we'll get a late 6th addition? (I am in I.T. please give me the most relatable character you cowards)

KIDS IN THE CORNER BY AMBER VAN DAY PLAYING I like where they shot this but that might just be european woods pretty. The opening location was nice and mossy save for the sheep blood Fancy big stone school establishing shots (it's nice, and huge) and we land on a red head who seems less than pleased to be here Courtyard shot of... whatever the name of the replacment plant girl is, holding a tray of various potted plants for an older man (father? first day of school send off maybe?) Aisha(?) walks by, not talking to anyone, Stella(?) is taking Magical!Selfies with at least 3 other girls, Musa(?) has a suitcase and headphones and smiles at a passing girl Oh boy a boy with a pocketknife doing little tricks with it! Nothing says edgy like an actual knife edge. Gonna take this moment to point out I have some level of face blindness and while the girls all look fairly different from one another, if there is more than one tall blonde white boy as I fear there may be, I WILL NOT be able to tell them apart. Not through maliciousness, just general incompetence, so anything I say about the boy characters (I want to say they're the knights to the girl's faeries? is that right? this whole thing smacks of gender) should be taken with a heap of salt I've come to accept tv just. displaying text messages on screen as a storytelling method. It's never my favorite but it just Is a modern story element. Also Bloom needs to meet stella at the alfea gates Alfea I presume is the school- does the name mean something? It sure feels like the word elf and therefore fae but I don't feel like googling anything this early in Oh look two more blondish tall white boys. Pocketknife was wearing something else i think, one guy has a brown jacket and pink shirt (bad combo), the other looks old even by tv highschool/college standards and his jacket has a jock vibe. Jock jacket also has an earring? Is this the bi character who is an asshole? From this one second of him, only in profile, I will assume yes, he is an asshole I like Bloom's backpack Pink shirt looks at Bloom from across the quad. I am already tired of this romance Cool he walks up to someone he has identified as lost, and is 'impressed with [her] confidence in the face of complete ignorance' COMING OUT OF THE GATE WITH A NEGG HUH PINKY He even states he wasn't offering help Then Why Are You Talking To Her Jackass Subs are going with the fairy spelling, and Bloom confirms she is a fairy and we confirm this is College. Unless this is a european thing where they call schools different things. I think that's just for public and private? And maybe just england? I'm American all they teach us is 1492-ww1 over and over for like. 10 years sorry Rest of the World 'What Realm are you from?' 'California' Speaking of ameri-centric, I'm gonna Guess that original Winx, the italian cartoon, didn't have their main character be from cali usa? I am presuming this is a side effect of making this property for a more global distribution than I'm guessing winx was originally conceived as back in the early 00s The Otherworld. I assume this is the fairy realm and whatnot? And the magic school. Seems to be located behind a magical barrier in the earth realm?? If that's right it seems weird if basically everyone who goes to the school is from the otherworld Pinky doubles down on his rudeness but in a Fun and Cute way because :/ and the Specialist hall is Very Pretty, oh and there's a fairy hall. Are specialists the boy...things? magi knights? bros of the blade? guys who wear those 'here come a special boy' sneakers from that one comic? Stella sees this conversation which is great because they drop the term mansplain. why would otherworlders know that term even??? Edgey(?) sees Pinky and they hug it out Stella knows Americans are the type to wander off so I guess there's a lot of inter-world connections?

Miss Dowling- is this teacher going to be like the pedo in riverdale who got *checks notes* killed off by one of multiple serial killers later on? Dowling is the headmistress, gotta keep the otherworld a secret from earthers, time and place for portal making. all standard fantasy stuff so far, nothing to make this stand out Stella has a gateway ring, and frankly isn't too nice? all the backgrounders clothing is Bland and very normal 7 realms of the otherworld, Solaria is where Alfea is, i like magic globe Incase you forgot this was a modern tale, people update their insta stories here. 'I was kindof bummed I didn't see a single pair of wings' YOU AND ME BOTH BLOOM 'We had wings in the past, transformation was lost, tinkerbell was an air fairy' This is either a cop out for your glittery cowardice, or a set up for the main girls re-finding transformation magic later. I did like the Tink bit Bloom is a fire fairy and the subtext of this conversation is that bloom's magic did Something bad. I hope it was burn down her old school's gym a la buffy movie I like miss Dowling but in the I wouldn't Be Surprised if you turned out to be Evil way, and I guess Alfea is a very privileged upper crust school. What types of college do normal fairies go to then huh? damn privileged fairies 'our students have gone on to do amazing things like re-discover long lost magics' We Get It. You will give me Wings, but Only If I'm Patient Dowling throws a jab at Bloom about power control, but I like her necklace so It's Fine

Bloom video calls her parents while unpacking in the dorm, which may have come pre-fit with a heck ton of board games? Love it. Or new plant girl brought them along with her many plants Stella has a fancy mirror and lots of jewelry and fashion photos and makeup, Musa has a laptop and apparently not much else, gotta get those establishing personalities down I guess 'Ladies of the Flies honey don't be sexist' Bloom's dad for feminist of the year (these jokes are bad but i guess we can call it a dad joke as justification) Asiha gives Bloom a look and saves her from the call with her parents- yay friendship step one achieved Blooms parents think she's in the alps because magic secrets and what not Aisha asks bloom if she's never read harry potter and I guess Bloom is a potterhead (that's the term right?). Is this self awareness that all magical school fantasy series have the same basic bricks? Bloom is a ravenclaw sometimes slytherin, Aisha is a Gryffindor Stella is changing because she's the fashion one and has a fun pastel rainbow skirt, and uses magic to make a real aggressive lamp. She's also a mentor (maybe older than the others by a bit?) I am assuming Stella here is something along the lines of a diplomats daughter the way she talks about appearances. She better get down and dirty later on to show her growth about how some things are more important than looks yada yada Fairy magic powered by strong emotions, i am waiting for bloom's backstory to be movie x-men rogue style tragedy Terra! Which. Of course is the Plant Fairy's name. Stella is a little mean to her about the plants and she takes it with a smile and some subtle snark back using classic literature Oh that's fun Terra points out the name-plant thing, and name drops her cousin Flora. That's. The one they replaced with Terra right? Terra's dad works in the greenhouse at the school which explains earlier (and her mum is named rose) Stella is indeed a second year and Musa's eyes change for. Lie detecting magic? and loves her headphones (Overstimulation?) Aisha wants somewhere to swim and we cut to a 'pond' by specialist training. Assuming she wants to sim because she's a water fairy, why Don't they have a pool? also this pond looks. Unpleasant for swimming

Girl specialist! Does that mean we have boy fairies? Boys. Fighting. Talking about girls. All gingers are nuts. Thanks edgelord AMAZING SHAGS THOUGH 'I didn't realize your hand was a red-head' it's not truly edge if we don't talk about sex every 10 minutes Subtitles earlier only said boy 1 boy 2 but now pinky or edgy is Riv Edgy smokes weed, and pinky is a big brother figure to him, and the head? of the special boys doesn't like edgy. Me neither older guy Bit of swordplay, more girls, every specialist has black training outfits, very military Pinky is Sky who is son of Guy of Place. an important lad. without context this is meaningless to me There's a giggly boy who laughs at the idea of a war in the future and gets a talking to. I suspect this boy will be re-occurring enough to die- he has those tertiary character elements with his intro and such (and he's black so I am prepared for your standard racist murder choices) Burned Ones exist outside the barrier, which makes me wonder if dead shepard was in the otherworld? There was nothing establishing that he was in any type of Other place but :/ Oh look edgey is having a smoke cross the barrier while we learn about the creatures that live beyond it. Time to find out these creatures no one young has ever seen are still kicking Specialist leader had to kill his own pa after a burned one got him. They also. Used a shotgun when trying to fight it. Do specialists even have powers or are they just good with weapons? Edgey finds the shepards corpse. Mostly blood 'it's been 16 years since the last sighting' 'Rosalind killed all the burned ones' ahh magical creature genocide hey when is abarat 4 coming out. and is rosalind hot?

School, gossip, Aisha and Musa are snarking at Tera for thinking the guy died of natural causes because we need to have these characters not actually like each other to make it stand out when they do Aisha talks about how she eats a lot and if she didn't swim she'd be massive and we cut to the plus sized tera looking uncomfortable are we really doing this? Tera points out that Musa was ignoring her earlier and it's all just uncomfortable and not great character conflict (but I thought I saw Musa holding an honest to god ipod? it's blue but it could be a phone case. Her hand is in the way) tera and dad interaction is nice, i'm also convinced they couldn't afford more than 3 magic adults

Girl with braids and metal in her hair! There were witches in winx right? Like 3 minor antagonist girls? I assume this is one of them. Because she has alternative fashion and is therefore evil /s Beatrix. Names in this series leave something to be desired (that something is subtly. I get it, they're carry overs from a series for a younger audience, she-ra had the same issue, but i can still poke fun) Swear count: Arsehole 2 Bollocks 1 Shit 1 She's a weird ass kissing with clearly ulterior motives

Bloom is Studying and her notebook is just FAIRY MAGIC POWER = EMOTIONS LOVE FEAR? HARTED? FIRE FAIRY CONTROL? in case you weren't paying attention Oh a flashback already to the magic triggering event? Her mother had pointed out she's an introvert, and past!Bloom doesn't Party. She goes Antiquing and is a Weird Loner (her 'basic bitch' of a mom's words) Swear count: Bitch 1 Bad daughter count: 1 Bad mother count: 1 Magic glowy eyes for Bloom: 1

Bloom Hates Parties and asks Pinky I mean Sky where she can be Away from People and he fears he'll be Mansplaing to her to. vague that it's dangerous outside instead of saying 'hey there's monsters and someone was just killed by possible one of them stay in the barrier' Stella wants to talk to Sky because they have History. I did hear there was a love triangle between these three. I am bored and everyone at this party is a nosey bitch who is watching their tense conversation. Also Something? Happens when Stella gets upset [mystical warbling] Random magic effects in the (very pretty) forest Bloom is trying to practice her magic on her own, and to do that she's gotta look at sad teen pics. And look, her burnt bedroom from her first power usage The fire magic is pretty good. I think fire is like. the opposite of water when it comes to cg where it almost always looks pretty good, while I swear i've seen the actual ocean look like a shitty render Magic out of control, bloom can't control her emotions, Aisha can stop her with water magic which makes some nice steam Bloom is angry at aisha for saving her. So far 3 of the 5 girls are abrasive at best remember when people made characters likeable? Swear count: Shit 1 (but it doubles as the literal meaning because of flooded toilets) Swear count: Bitch 1 Ass 1 Taking away your teen's door is. Really shitty. Not almost burn down your house worthy but damn cheerleader mom I do not understand sleep shirts with buttons. That seems painful if you lie the wrong way? Her mom was seriously burnt by first magic usage that's a backstory Shit count +1 Main character aspect time: dormant fairy blood line? awfully strong magic for that. baby who died day after it was born and now she's here? ...I was going to say changeling thanks aisha A Barbaric practice loving hints at long term world lore Hell is a bad word for kids!! Cutting to headmistress and her secret passage after finding out bloom is secret pureblood? this really is a harry potter thing

edgelord offers giggly some booze, and says pussies twice because he's Edgey and does peer pressure Tera calls him out and knows he's a sad nerd in disguise not a 'badass' and he says she's 'three people in disguise' because fatphobia shit +1 arehole +1 tera. chokes out edgelord with a vine because she's had enough of this shit. good for her edgelord is Riv, and he lived

OBLIGATORY GOOGLE SEARCH FOR THE TERM CHANGELING REMEMBER BELLA'S VAMPIRE GOOGLE GOD I LOVE TEEN FANTASY AND THEIR INSTANCE ON GOOGLING COMMON FANTASY TERMS OH hey the lamp bloom brought with her is the one she was fixing at home that's a nice touch Stella bonds with Bloom about homesickness, and the takes a selfie Musa is a mind fairy. So she. Is a telepath with purple eye magic? Oh there's types of 'connections' Memory, thought (others but i am cut off from the lore) Stella did Something to someone who Talked To Her Man last year and now lent Bloom her teleportation ring to send her some because miss mentor really cares more about her shitty man then helping the girls she's in charge of First World- earth Old Cemetery? Very Sexy. and bloom sweetie don't leave a mystical gateway open, and how will you explain to your parents how you're back so fast Wait she's only 16? SO this really is some european college where that's a funny way of saying High School Fire guilt, bad feelings about life shattering revelations, better connection with mother. I gotta say I have low expectations of this show carrying the family connection through the rest of this. That conversation felt more like a Hey We Made These Movements Onto Other Stuff Now

Lighting choices are interesting, with green, orange and purple for creepy warehouse. THE Creepy Warehouse where she would sleep without her parent's knowledge wow right that GIRL DROPS THE DAMN RING AT THE FIRST SIGN OF burned one looked more alien than werewolf-y here Decent Horror movie looks, and dude stole her ring. Rude. Saved by the headmistress, and tera/aisha/musa are here to great her Stella can't be here though because she has to greet a half naked freshly showered sky because life is suffering and producers insist people like to see teens half naked (who. Who?) shit +1 and she dumped him. pity part of one and using it to try to get your bone on. HEY A SONG I KNOW. IT'S WHATSITCALLED FROM THE BAYONETTA COMMERCIALS WAY BACK WHEN. in for the kill la roux. I do wish netflix would either commit to telling you what song was playing or didn't tell you at all

Riv offers Beatrix a hit from his joint because what Is a Bad Kid hasn't changed in like 70 years Blowing pot smoke into someone's mouth isn't as sexy as ya'll seem to think it is Musa has cute sleep socks with little pom poms, and I love Tera's floral jammies Tera offers a bluetooth speaker so they can listen to music together Musa also calls out Tera's fake happiness this is the good shit character interaction i live for Musa Empath Mind Fairy 'somber indie music'

If you kill a burned one in the human world Something? Extra bad happens? So the headmistress knows Bloom's a changeling, and ohhh that's the last time a burned one was spotted. Is Rosalind the famed Monster Slayer the birth mother of Bloom? Tera text flirts with Giggly who IS NAMED DANE and has a thing for. Sky? Riv? I told you these boys all look the same to me so if it's a half naked pic on fairy insta i'm out of context clues. Crymeariv is the insta name that answers that. Is this the slow burn enemies to lover mlm i can't finish this sentence i don't care riv is a dick Stella and Sky are in a bed and she doesn't seem to have a top on so Implied sexy times? MYSTERIOUS HOODED AND ROBED FIGURE CROSSES THROUGH THE BARRIAR AND SHOOTS THE BURNED ONE WITH LIGHTNING MAGIC OH IT'S beatrix

alt-J – Adeline as an ending song

#fate the winx saga #text #commentary #hey tumblr thanks for deleting all my text because I resized this window #we're off to a great start #fate episode 1

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infernalrevenge · 4 years ago

Text

Extra Ordinary

Fandom: Choices - Foreign Affairs

Pairing: F!Blaine Hayes x M!MC (Magnus Quezon)

Rating: G

Summary: Blaine and Magnus sneak off to a traveling fair.

Notes: Inspired by a message from @i-cant-think-of-a-name-15 wherein he told me I could write about "a purple panda visiting Vancross" and he'd still read about it, so I was minorly inspired. This is much longer than what I've written and posted here so far, so fair warning on that.

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"A fair?"

Magnus raised an eyebrow at Dionne, who clutched her phone as she showed him her text messages from Blaine.

"Yeah, she said she got tickets the other day, arranged for you two to go, and everything! It's only in town for a week, and tonight's the last night before they pack everything up the next day."

Before he could even object -- the thought of everyone still breathing down his neck about the scandal and cleaning up his image still weighing heavily on his mind -- she interrupted, "You don't have any classes tomorrow, you’re free, and you need the break! Plus it'll be so romantic, just you and Blaine--"

"And our bodyguards."

"--Having the time of your lives at a fair! Come on, it'll be fun, Magnus! Like you're gonna say no to her."

Okay, she's got him there.

It only took a little bit of pleading to get Tatum to agree to his antics this time, rolling his eyes as if he was used to it at that point. Nevertheless, he escorted the First Son to the pier where the fair grounds were, dressed as casually and inconspicuously as possible.

Magnus adjusted his sunglasses and beanie, glancing behind him to see if his bodyguard was right behind, only to find him gone. He did say he was just going to keep a "respectable distance", but it didn't make him any less nervous being out and about like this. It wasn't that he didn't trust his date to show up, it was that he was worried that she would and so would the paparazzi. They haven't exactly relented on their quest to squeeze out every juicy detail of his story.

He tried to scan the crowd for any sign of Blaine, only to be suddenly grabbed by the arm. He stumbled back in surprise, accidentally bumping into a mother with her kids. "Sorry sorry, I'm so sorry miss!" he quickly apologized, but the lady left in a huff, and he found himself face to face with none other than the mastermind of this operation.

"Geez, I forgot how you scared so easily. Sorry about that," Blaine remarked, clearly amused. Magnus could only roll his eyes, but was nonetheless relieved to find her -- or rather, have her find him.

He had to admire her insistence on the whole plan, and the fact that she had a plan in the first place. Of course, they couldn't get away from their bodyguards and had to effectively hide any prominent features of theirs to avoid being recognized, but hey, he would take any excuse to be with her.

"We've got a lot of ground to cover if we wanna make the most of this place," Blaine said. They made their way inside hand in hand.

"I'm starting to feel bad, leaving you with all the work of planning out covert dates. I should return the favor some time," Magnus said with a small laugh, taking in the sights and smells around him. The sun was beating down on every head present, hung up on a bright blue sky. It was quite crowded, which was a security concern, but it also meant it would be harder for untrained eyes to spot them in the sea of faces. Still, it had him a bit on edge.

"Looking forward to whatever you've got cooking up there, Rutherland. I'm sure you can think of something." Blaine looked up at the rides, the screams of its passengers intriguing her to give the experience a shot. It would also help to distract Magnus, as she noticed he was rather tense. "Where do you wanna go first?"

Magnus wasn't always the type to try to impress a date, but he might have been pushing it a little when he suggested an octopus ride. "I've never ridden one before. My mom always said they would break and the cart I'd be in would fly off."

It felt that way as soon as the ride started too. Magnus held onto the safety bar in front of them for dear life, his insides doing massive flips with every rotation. It was very thrilling, but it was also a strangely ticklish sensation that had him laughing and screaming the whole time. Blaine was having the time of her life, on the other hand, raising both arms in the air at multiple points as she whooped and jokingly yelled for it to go faster. Their excited screams blended in with the cacophony of the other riders, and somehow, that made the First Son feel the most normal he had since the day started.

If you were to ask him, Magnus would deny how his hands were shaking as they got off the ride, remnants of that thrill and momentary terror still running through his body. But it helped to have Blaine take both his hands and encouraged him to breathe deeply instead of the usual teasing he expected from her.

"Do you go on octopus rides often?" he asked, sucking in another breath before exhaling slowly.

"I'm actually more of a lazy river kind o' girl, but I love the adrenaline rush anyway," she casually replied, trying her best to ground him and calm his racing heart and stomach.

The two of them decided to eat some snacks as a substitute for lunch, settling for corn dogs, cotton candy, and watermelon slices. Along the way, Magnus spotted a giant panda stuffed toy in one of the game booths, its usual black patches replaced with a bright purple. Blaine followed his distracted gaze and giggled, trying to get his attention. “See something you like?”

The Rutherlandian chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh... it’s a giant panda, kinda hard to miss.” He was trying his best not to seem too obvious about his curiosity and desire to have it. However, after passing by the same booth a few more times as they explored the grounds, with his attention inevitably drifting to the toy, Blaine took him there herself to see if she can win it for him.

“You don’t have to--”

“Just let me do this for you. Besides, not like you can keep your eyes off of it.”

A laugh escaped him, “Are you telling me you’re jealous of a stuffed toy panda now?”

“I’m literally gonna win it for you, Rutherland, I am the farthest from being jealous. I promise by the end of the night, you'll be one panda richer.”

Basketball was the name of the game -- all she had to do was sink three shots in a row through the hoop across. Simple enough, if only she weren’t so far away from behind the starting line. Every time she threw the ball and watched it soar through the air, it was always just a few feet shy of the goal. By the time Blaine was on her sixth total attempt, she was just slamming the cash on the counter in frustration to pay for more chances, which the manager gladly accepted each time.

Magnus tried to get her to stop, insisting that it was fine and she didn’t need to waste so much money on a game “that was clearly rigged anyway.”

“Hey, I promised I’d get you that, and goddammit you are gonna get it!” she stubbornly replied, setting down another two dollars. This time though, she took a pause to rest and re-think her strategy.

Blaine furrowed her eyebrows, her focus alternating between the ball and the hoop, until an idea struck her. A wide mischievous smirk appeared on her face as she pinned the ball under her arm and climbed onto the counter, much to everyone's surprise.

"Hey, you're not allowed up there, miss!" the man behind the stand yelled, holding a hand up. The Ardonian was undeterred.

"Why? I'm still behind the line," she pointed out.

"You could fall and get hurt, you have to--" Magnus started, but Blaine was already focused on her goal, ball in hand as she lifted it up.

The height certainly gave her an advantage, taking one successful shot after another, despite the manager's and Magnus' protests. Her date still hung back right behind her, arms slightly raised to ready himself just in case. If she was so insistent on doing things her way, hopefully it wouldn't end in a hospital visit. She would hear an occasional "be careful!" between shots, but when she finally got the last one she needed, she practically threw caution to the wind after the ball.

“Victory is mine, asshole!” she yelled in triumph, throwing her arms up in the air in celebration.

She didn't anticipate how the momentum would throw her off balance though, misstepping behind her. She yelped and tried to move forward, but it was too late. One second she was falling back toward the ground, then the next... she was in Magnus' arms.

She looked up at him and laughed, "Good catch. You work out?" she commented with a wink, letting him help her stand back up.

"Let's just say you can always trust me to catch you," he replied with a hint of a flirtatious tone, before nudging her with his elbow. "But never do that again," he warned, though he was clearly just worried about her.

The Ardonian flipped her hair over her shoulder, turning her attention to the manager. "One panda, my good sir!"

He begrudgingly handed over the stuffed toy to Blaine, who then proceeded to proudly present it to Magnus. He had to wrap both arms around its fluffy torso just to be able to hold onto it securely.

"Consider this my apology for worrying you," she joked, patting the toy's fluffy arm.

"This feels a bit cliche, doesn't it?" he said, his voice partially muffled by the huge obstruction between them.

"What do you mean? It's a role reversal. It's the guy usually winning prizes for the girl, right?"

"I just mean the situation in general. Do you always win giant pandas for your dates?"

"Only for you, babe. Though I'll happily take it back if you don't want it."

At that, Magnus turned and kept it away from Blaine when she tried to reach for it. "No, you already gave it to me, so keepsies." He stuck his tongue out at her, looking more childish than ever, which earned him a boop on the nose.

"One more ride for the road?"

It was already sunset by the time they got on the ferris wheel. The sky was a gradient of pink, orange, and yellow as the sun started to set, slowly sinking in the horizon where the sky met the sea. It took some convincing for the ride manager to allow the stuffed toy on board, as long as they didn't drop it -- like Magnus was ever going to let that happen.

The newly christened Taro (as Magnus insisted on calling the panda) sat on his side, with Blaine snuggled on the other, her head settled on his shoulder. The ride moved slowly as other passengers boarded, and they were getting close to the top, just enough to enjoy the view.

"I know the rooftops at Vancross had great views of sunsets, but nothing beats being this close to it, huh?" Blaine said, her fingers idly playing with Magnus', intertwining and untwining them.

"Being in great company helps me appreciate it more too," Magnus replied, before turning to the stuffed toy next to him, sitting at eye level given its size. "Isn't that right, Taro?"

"Sorry, am I ruining your moment here?" she joked, gently nudging at his arm. Magnus simply smiled and wrapped an around her shoulders, pulling her even closer to his side.

"But seriously though, today was really fun. I'm glad you convinced Dionne to convince me to come out here. At this point, it's hard to say no to even just seeing you."

"Even if it means infuriating your bodyguard?"

Magnus rolled his eyes, looking off as the sky started to darken. "He wasn't infuriated, I'd say irritated at best, but he gets it. He's always been supportive of my 'be a normal person' agenda."

"Did I help deliver?"

"Oh definitely. You sure know how to make a guy feel normal, in a good way."

Blaine glanced up at him, "What does being normal mean to you?"

The young man blinked, not expecting such an introspective question. The lights on the ferris wheel started to turn on, giving him a view of Blaine under their soft glow. He almost lost himself in the sight and backtracked on the question.

He gave himself a moment to think, choosing his words carefully, "Just... being able to live my life away from scrutinizing eyes, I guess. I don't want the public to see me as someone or something that I'm not just because some tabloid article told them this or that."

She nodded in understanding, pulling his arm closer. "Definitely. It's like the general population seems to forget we're people too. We have our own lives and identities, and it's not something that can be toyed with."

"I wish I didn't have to act a certain way, I don't want them to change me. I wish... things were different." A bout of silence passed between them, the ride moving at its leisurely pace to give its passengers time to appreciate it.

"But if they were, then I never would've met you, so it's not all bad. You're... one of the best things that's ever happened to me, you know?" Magnus looked at Blaine, a small yet genuine smile on his face. The girl looked up at him almost with a flicker of doubt at first, but looking deeper into his eyes, she knew he was telling the truth.

And she wasn't sure how to handle that.

She could feel her stomach doing flips, a thrill running through her -- except it wasn't like she was on a fair ride. This was somehow more intense, yet she felt grounded with him by her side. She couldn't help the smile that bloomed, her cheeks darkening slightly as she took in his words.

"You're too good, Magnus. I hope the world never changes you."

The way she said his name sounded almost adoring, like she was in awe of what a genuine soul he was despite everything that's happened to him. She knew what it was like, having been expected to keep up appearances her whole life, but somehow this boy right next to her never seemed to lose touch of himself along the way. He knew what he had to do, but he also knew who he was at the end of the day.

Just hearing her say it like that was enough to melt Magnus' insides with a loving warmth. A smile spread across his face, leaning forward to press a soft kiss on her lips. He was just so relieved that he never had to pretend around Blaine, never had to prove anything to her. It was more than enough just having her there by his side, and even though he was looking forward to the day he can finally be out with her in public with pride, moments like these made their secret trips still worth going through.

(Due to Taro's size, it couldn’t quite fit in Magnus' bed as intended, so it instead resided on the couch in the suite. It didn't mean he didn't take any chances to nap on it though.

Dionne has sent many pictures to Blaine of the young man's face buried into its fluffy stomach, curled up on the small space as he rested peacefully, and Blaine has had to stifle many squeals of delight at the adorable sight.)

#choices foreign affairs #choices fa #blaine hayes #blaine x mc #f!blaine hayes #male!mc #m!mc

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clairecrive · 4 years ago

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“Comfort”- Ron Kray x reader [Requested]

the lovely @onl-you sent a while ago the prompt “Stop being a fucking dick” and I’ve also got a few requests about the Krays. So here are the two combined! I’m not 100% happy with this but oh well, hope you like it <3

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye, @mollybegger-blog, @br0ck-eddie, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @evelynshelby, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

Warning: mainly angst but got fluff at the end.

"Y/n, I'm home. You've no idea what a day I've had." Ron's voice was heard loud and clear throughout the whole house that was usually quiet. Whenever it neared the time where Ron was about to get home, y/n would always get things started for dinner. Ron would probably have to head out again to go to the club while her work tired her out so that she could never wait for him. Dinner was the only time when they could enjoy each other with no rush or time pressure and since they got together they quickly learned to take advantage of that.

"Ron? What are you doing here?" Y/n's voice came from the sitting room where Ron found her. She looked confused, or rather startled. Like she was abruptly snapped out of a daydream. He knew she did that a lot.

"What do you mean, what am are you doing here? You invited me over for dinner, last week." Hanging his coat he looked to see her shaking her head.

"Oh dear, I'm so terribly sorry Ronnie but I'm afraid I completely forgot."

"'s okay," he mumbled taking a seat on his chair. Something was off, Ron could tell, even he couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. "Are you alright?" he asked her lighting a cigar.

"Of course, sweetie. Well, get yourself comfortable while I go and put something together for dinner."She offered and stood up to do exactly what she said. "Would you like a cup of tea, while you wait?" Her voice called for him from the kitchen after a while.

"Sure," he spoke out. However, there was no need because y/n was walking his way with a cup in her hands before he had finished talking.

"Here you go," she softly smiled at him after having sat down the cup on the table in front of him. Ron looked at the cup first, took it in his hands to inspect it and then moved his eyes over her. Y/n was already walking back into the kitchen, completely clueless. If before this Ron wasn't sure what was going on, this had proved that there was definitely something wrong.

"Honey..." he called for her while joining her in the kitchen so he could show her the water-filled cup.

"Yes?"

"There's only water in here," and to back up his statement he lifted the cup under her eyes.

"Oh goodness. I forgot to put the tea in it," her eyes widened at her mistake, her cheeks red with embarrassment, "I'm so so sorry, I've my head in the clouds today." She emptied the cup and put the kettle on to make tea. Before Ron could inquire about her strange behaviour, the phone rang and when she made no inclination to answer it, he did.

"Hello?" Annoyed for the interruption, he growled at whoever had called.

"Ron? Is that you mate?" Hearing his twin's voice made Ron furrow his eyebrows in confusion. He had just dropped him off, what could he possibly want now?

"Of course it is, who else would it be at y/n's home?" but Reggie completely ignored his brother's jealousy.

"What d'you called for?"

"Oh right, I called to check in on y/n. How is she?"

"Since when do you check up on my girl, mate?" If the fact alone that his brother was calling just after he had left him hadn't upset Ron enough when Reggie mentioned y/n, he really got angry.

"Would you stop being a dick, mate? Frances told me the news so I called. Y/n's family." Ron couldn't see him but he knew that Reggie was probably rolling his eyes at him and his behaviour. He couldn't care less though.

"What news?" This new piece of information made Ron push his anger aside for a moment. Apparently, his girl was keeping something from him.

"So she hasn't told you then?"

"No, but I figured that something was up. She's a mess, forgot that I was coming over and stuff," he mentioned to his twin to demonstrate that yes, he wasn't completely clueless.

"Yeah well, it would have upset me too. A lot actually, so be nice to her, alright?"

"I don't need to be reminded of being nice with my girl." Hearing his twin growl Reggie knew that his time had run short so he got straight to the point.

"Just don't be a dick like you usually are. I'll talk to you soon, bye Ron." The line went dead and Ron was stood there, phone in hand, head a mess.

Between the two, Ron was the one who was always quiet, he would only speak if he needed to. Or if he had something to say. Y/n was more chatty, granted she enjoyed her quiet time too otherwise Ron didn't think they'd work well together but she also came always to him whenever something was wrong. The fact that she hadn't and was acting weird, made Ronnie realise that this news had upset her a great deal.

Putting the phone down, Ronnie adjusted his glasses while he went looking for Y/n. Her house wasn't that big so Ronnie didn't think it such a hard task like it was proving to be. Where could she have gone? His call with Reggie had lasted a minute long, at most. Where could she have hidden in such a short amount of time? Calling out her name didn't help either so there was only a place she could be, Ronnie realized as he neared the ladder that led to the attic.

The squeaking of the wood and Ron's groans as he climbed and tried to fit his broad shoulders through the narrow opening were more than enough to alert y/n of his presence. However, as Ron spotted her near the window, she didn't move nor even flinched a little. Straightening his shirt, Ron walked up to her to join her in the sightseeing she was doing. Not that there were much to stare outside of the window but Ron knew from experience that looking at the lined up rooftops in the distance had a somewhat calming effect.

One of the other things that Ron and y/n had in common was that neither of them liked useless words. What was the point of saying things that one knew were ineffective just so that they could fill the silence? There was nothing wrong with being quiet. They both agree on that. And so, words of courtesy were never used between them when the other was feeling low for whatever reason. They simply stood by the other, letting them know that they were there and that whenever they were ready to speak, if they wanted to, they'd be all ears. So that's what Ron did.

Y/n had never told him but she had always found his presence comforting. He had something about him, maybe that stoic composed look he was always sporting did the trick. Y/n didn't really care for pointing out why it was, she just knew that he did and was very grateful for having him in her life. Resting her head on his arms, since she was too short to reach his shoulder, y/n tried to let her gratefulness slip to him. As his hand held her, y/n sighed knowing that she had to talk. Clumming up was a tendency she had, a rather toxic one and she had made a promise to herself to try and avoid it.

"I got bad news," she started quietly and continued when Ron grunted in support, "I... my mum is sick, Ron." y/n felt her throat constrict as she let the words out of her mouth. Feeling Ron's grip on her hand helped a little, but he knew that it was not nearly enough. y/n's relationship with her mother was really similar to the one Ron had with his. So he could perfectly understand what she was feeling and actually thought that she was handling it a lot better than he would.

"What did the doctor say?"

"They said she had cancer," only the word brought tears to her eyes, sniffling she pushed them back, " they don't know how serious it is but I mean it's cancer so it must be pretty serious right?" Now y/n turned to look at him, maybe she was hoping to hear him disagree with her, to assure her that it didn't necessarily mean that it was serious. But Ron couldn't know for sure, who the hell would he know, he was a schizophrenic gangster after all, he knew nothing about these things. What Ron could do though was offer some kind of comfort, a shoulder for her to cry on, gentle caresses and affection.

As everybody in London would say, he wasn't the affectionate type. If there was another thing that Ron loved more than silence was his personal space. However, contrary to popular belief and despite his mental problems, Ron wasn't incapable of love. Maybe the fact that he saw the world in a different way and the fact that he was a lot more sensitive than the average man, was what gives him the intel about love. y/n had never complained about this side of their relationship. Ron had a way to make very clear his emotions and feelings, even without using any words. She never felt dubious about his feelings for her for that very reason but also because whenever she would doubt herself or go through a hard time, Ron would always come through and face it all with her.

Meeting her eyes, Ron gently took her cheeks in his hands. Seeing the look of absolute despair and sadness, watching the tears that she failed to prevent from falling staining her beautiful face, he felt words failing him. What could he say to make her feel better? Absolute nothing, he knew. So he didn't bother. He gave her a soft peck and engulfed her in his arms in one of his rare bear hugs that y/n was always yearning for. The intimacy of this gesture was what made her break, though. Hugging him close to her, y/n couldn't stop herself from crying anymore.

The only thing that Ron whispered to her was that there was still hope, there was still a possibility that it wasn't that bad until the doctors didn't tell them otherwise. Maybe giving her hope wasn't the best thing to do but he felt like he had to remind her of this possibility. The warmth of his body and his gentle hands on her, after a while, succeeded in calming her. Pulling back a little so that he could look at her face, Ron saw that her tears had stopped too. Still with a soft voice, he offered to draw her a nice bath, he was even willing to join her if she wanted him too. His eyes softened when he saw a little smile tugging at her lips and felt incredibly proud of himself for that. Looking at her now, he realized that this is the only thing that he could do to help here: give her comfort.

#ron kray #ronnie kray #ron kray imagine #ron kray one shot #ron kray x reader #ronnie kray x reader #ronnie kray one shot #the krays #mobile legends #ron kray angst #tom hardy #tom hardy imagine #ron kray fic

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maybemarvelbaby · 4 years ago

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Pulling Pigtails

A/N: Sorry for the inactivity! I’ve been super busy with college and haven’t had much time to write. Speaking of college, recently I had to basically free write my own story for a grade. Which, is what this is. However, the characters were different so I made some modifications so I could post this story on here. I’m really proud of this one and I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1423

Pairing: Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Reader

Warnings: none really, kinda ooc Peter Parker, Reader’s middle and last name were filled in by authour for comedic effect, Peter can sing and play the guitar now and he also has a sister

After the last class of the day, (Y/N)’s quick, gentle footsteps could be heard echoing throughout the nearly empty corridor as she made her way towards her locker. Mondays were always stressful for her, especially now that it was her senior year of high school. Needless to say, she was anxious to get home. (Y/N) quietly muttered the combination for her locker under her breath as she turned the lock dial right, left, and then right again. Then, she deposited her books back into their respective places.

“(Y/N)!” A voice spoke from the other side of the door as (Y/N) accidentally slammed it shut out of surprise. As she looked to her left, an exasperated sigh left her lips; leaning on the locker next to hers was Peter Parker. In (Y/N)’s mind, Peter was a truly terrible being who was intent on making her life as frustrating as possible for as long as he possibly could.

“Peter,” (Y/N) began, another sigh escaping her mouth. “I really don’t feel like dealing with you at the moment,” she said, despite knowing for a fact that he didn’t listen to a word she said.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N),” he taunted, “(Y/N) Rachel Greene. That’s your full name, correct?” (Y/N) ignored him, locking her locker, throwing her backpack over her shoulder, and turning on her heel, quickly walking down the hallway in an attempt to distance herself from Peter. But Peter was persistent; he caught up to her easily and matched their footsteps, slinging one arm over her shoulder.

“So, do your parents just really like the show FRIENDS or is that just a coincidence?” He teased, grabbing the notebook she was holding and flipping through the pages nonchalantly.

“I’m not sure, Peter Benjamin Parker,” (Y/N) retorted. A wave of pride flooded over her as she felt him tense up beside her. “Are you truly as stupid as everyone thinks you are?”

Finally, (Y/N) had caught him at a loss for words. Having no response, Peter shoved the notebook back into her hands and angrily marched off, muttering to himself quietly. Feeling quite pleased with herself, (Y/N) half-walked, half-skipped the rest of the way to her car. As she popped open the trunk, she heard quiet whispers come from the other side of the tree that stood right next to her assigned parking spot. Letting her curiosity get the best of her, she silently crept in the direction of the voices, using the tree as a cover.

“I don’t know, man, I really like her, but I always mess things up. I don’t think she’ll ever like me back,” said a quiet, defeated voice. She knew that voice anywhere; it was ingrained into her brain, the same brain that subconsciously memorized the way every syllable sounded when falling from his lips. That voice was Peter Benjamin Parker. Every cell in (Y/N)’s body lept with pure joy. She could use this against him. She could find out who Peter liked and she could tease him for it for all of eternity, finally getting revenge for all the times he had made fun of her name or scribbled on her homework. She would finally have the upper hand.

She speedily ran to the driver’s side of her car and hopped inside. She was so eager to begin her investigation that she nearly forgot that the speed limit still existed and realized she was going fifty miles per hour in a thirty-mile zone. Once, she called out a quick “Hey Mom!” to her mother and stumbled up the stairs and into her room, accidentally slamming the door behind her. (Y/N) sat at her desk and began making a list of every girl at her school. Then, she began to work out who possibly had caught Peter’s eye. It couldn’t be a freshman or a sophomore, they were all too young, so she crossed out the names of any girls from grades nine or ten, effectively shortening the list by about sixty-seven percent. For the next thirty minutes, (Y/N) continued crossing out names until there were only two names left: Peter’s sister Teresa and another.

“Well, by default, it can’t be Teresa, so she’s out.” (Y/N) observed to herself, “That leaves one person, meaning the love of Peter Benjamin Parker’s life is-” She stopped, realizing that the last name on the list was her own. (Y/N) was shocked. She denied it at first, thinking there was no way Peter could ever feel that way about her, but the more she dwelled on it, the more it began to make sense. (Y/N) and Peter always had the same classes. If Peter wanted something, he came to (Y/N). Peter teased (Y/N) relentlessly, only ever stopping if she was genuinely mean to him back. In fact, the only girl that Peter ever talked to besides his sister was (Y/N). She went to bed that night, feeling conflicted and unsure of how she felt about this newfound information.

The whole week, (Y/N) had been completely avoiding Peter. She asked to work by herself during group assignments, hid in the library during lunch, and refused to respond to Peter, no matter how hard he teased her. By the time Friday had rolled around, Peter was done. He was pretty sure he knew why (Y/N) was avoiding him. She had to have known, she was ridiculously smart so she probably figured it out somehow. Even if she didn’t know, Peter knew that he had to tell her soon, so he grabbed his guitar and started writing. After about an hour and a half of fiddling with chords and looking up what words rhyme with what, he was satisfied. He wrote a little note, slipped it inside of (Y/N)’s locker, and strolled off to sit under the tree by (Y/N)’s parking space. At exactly 4:03 pm, (Y/N) arrived at the tree that Peter situated himself under.

“You wanted to tell me something?” she asked, voice hardly above a whisper. She was nervous, the most nervous she had ever been in her life, more nervous than during her second-grade spelling bee, more nervous than when she had asked Luke Coollastname to the eighth-grade dance, more nervous than when she had run for class president her junior year. She was more than nervous; she was hysterical and completely afraid for whatever Peter had to say.

“No,” Peter started, and (Y/N) let some of the stress fall from her shoulders, “I wanted to sing you something.” (Y/N) tensed back up immediately. Peter was an incredibly gifted singer and songwriter, but every time he had made a song for her, it was always stupid and poked fun at whatever it was that Peter felt like poking fun at. However, before her protests escaped her lips, Peter had already begun. He mindlessly strummed a few chords for a bar or two before he actually opened his mouth to sing, and the second he started, (Y/N) was enchanted by the sound of his voice and the way the late afternoon sun reflected off of the shiny, brown guitar. (Y/N) wasn’t really paying attention to the lyrics; she was too focused on the way every word that left his lips merged beautifully with the sound of each chord he played. Once he finished, Peter took a deep breath, attempting to calm his own nerves and turned his eyes to (Y/N).

“Sorry for pulling your pigtails,” he mumbled. After a few seconds of not receiving a response from (Y/N), he began to worry. He opened his mouth to apologize for whatever it was that he did wrong, but the words never came. Instead, he felt a pair of soft lips gently press up against his own. The sensation only lasted for a second before (Y/N) pulled back, breaking the kiss. Peter looked at her in complete admiration, and she returned the gaze. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, not daring to speak, afraid that this was all a dream and it would disappear the second someone opened their mouth, but the silence didn’t last long as Peter repeated what he said.

“Sorry for pulling your pigtails, (Y/N).” A genuine look of pure affection and amusement fell over (Y/N)’s face and she quietly giggled in response.

“It’s quite alright, playground boy.”

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soulwillower · 5 years ago

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lethal combination • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

(based off the song ‘lethal combination’ by the wombats)

requested (kinda!): Id love to hear what you had about rich and reader being a party duo :)

warning: swearing, underage drinking, body shots, slight bill denbrough x reader, drunk smooching, throwing up, lil angsty, fluffy ending, unedited

[losers + reader are 18+ in this.]

2.6k words

♡

"give me another." you mutter, your speech slightly slurred by the tenth shot you'd just downed. your head was spinning. richie howls from next to you, pouring out two shots of jager with his arm around you. "y-you're insane." bill mutters with a grin. you wink at him as you down your shot.

"gimme a body to shoot off of!" a girl yells drunkenly from the other end of the kitchen, the party's noise swallowing her words up and letting them fall on few ears.

ben laughs at her words and eddie nudges his arm as he laughs as well. richie turns to look at you, "whaddaya say, sugar?" he asks, eyes lidded in an alcohol induced stupor. the others look not surprised but still slightly impressed at how the two of you are still even coherent.

everyone knows that you and richie are “the duo” - the two who ride or die together. if one of you is drunk, the other is right there with you. you were those annoying party kids who went too hard and had so much fun doing it. you were the life of every party, the center of every room. and it always has been like that.

"le's go, tozier." you slur, swiping cups and a bag of chips off a table, making ben and bev both let out nosies of indignation. you pull your dress down a bit to reveal more of your chest, laying back onto the table and taking a lime wedge from a drunk and giggling stan. you drag it quickly on a stripe up your chest towards your throat and grin as bev sprinkles salt on the line.

"alright. lick, shoot, suck." you slur to richie, giggling as bill pours tequila into a small shot glass. "cheeky." richie mutters with a grin, looking at you. you smirk back, lime placed in between your lips.

so richie’s tongue shoots out, licking straight up your chest, breath hot against your skin and making your whole body shiver. fuck.

he moves to slurp the shot, making you giggle. he then moves u to pluck the lime out of your mouth expertly. you're disappointed when his lips don't touch yours. as he spits the lime out, he leans toward you and you smell the tequila on his breath, "how was that, y/n?"

you shove him and go to sit up, flustered at his proximity. he’s making you want to kiss him again. he’s doing that thing where you want to be his.

"bill, now you let y/n take a body shot off of you!" bev yells, making you grin, never one to turn down a good time. plus, a perfect distraction.

so bill grins, pulling his shirt fully off and taking your place on the table. everyone except richie cheers as you take a lime and rub it over his stomach, taking time to admire his muscular torso before placing the lime in between his lips.

you laugh the whole time, licking the salt all the way up his abs and downing the shot. it was harder than you'd anticipated because you were both drunk and bill couldn't stop laughing, but you get the lime in your mouth. but in a drunken stupor, the lime falls out of your mouth and you accidentally kiss his lips.

everyone yells in shock and bill’s laughing drunkenly under you. you laugh drunkenly, thinking of richie’s lips as you lick his bottom lip, placing a hand on his shoulder as his falls on your hip. you both pull away, laughing in shock. you meet bill's eyes and then realize what you’d done. oops.

when you pull bill to his feet, richie is gone. you don't see him for another hour.

when you finally find him, it's because you're looking for the bathroom. he's against a wall, seemingly not as drunk as you. you frown, pulling his shoulder. "where were you, rich?" you try not to sound too hurt, but he never left you at a party it was your thing, the two of you.

he looks hurt but he shakes it off quick enough that you can't decipher it. then he awkwardly gestures to the pretty girl under his arm. she smiles and waves, telling you her name that you immediately forget. you smile back but you can't help feeling a little sick.

wait, is richie going to hook up with this girl? your stomach drops, immediately going defensive. "o-oh, okay rich. i was just - bill and i, we- we accidentally kissed!" you bark, laughing at the absurdity of it. "i bet you're mad, bet you hate me kissing your friend." you say, not sure why you say that but laughing afterwards. why was this your first defense? why can’t you just be happy for him?

richie's staring at you, jaw dropped open and eyes narrowed. if you weren't so drunk, you might have realized you were kind of being a dick.

"c'mon, don't look at me like that." you grumble. he gives you another look, one of confusion. you were too drunk to comprehend what was really happening, but he looked uncomfortable... or annoyed. you gulp, wordlessly tuning back without so much as a goodbye. he doesn't follow.

you're feeling lost without richie and after ten minutes, you try to find him again, just to see him pressing that same girl up against a wall, whispering something into her ear. she's laughing sweetly, hands tangling in his hair. he starts to kiss her neck lightly and you think you'll scream.

the amount of pain, rage, and sadness that you feel wash over you is sickening and you almost double over. what's wrong with you?

all you know is that you may not be able to really tell where you're going, but you have to get out of the stuffy house. if you don't, you think you might combust.

you turn and run out the door.

the walk from the party back to your house was a lot longer now that you're drunk, lonely, and upset. you try not to mope though, because richie is single and definitely not yours and he never will be. he's allowed to do whatever he wants, it just doesn't hurt any less.

you should probably send him a quick text to tell him you left, but you know he probably won't see it. too busy taking that girl home with him. you chuckle bitterly to yourself for being such a shitty friend as you enter your house, quietly slinking into your room. who are you to get mad at him for trying to find happiness?

looking at the mirror you notice that your face is puffy from the tears you didn't know had been streaming down your cheeks; before you can start to get ready for bed, you feel a familiar tug in your stomach and you sprint to the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet.

you sit miserably on the floor holding your own hair back as you retch, watching your tears hit the rim of the toilet. you've never really been alone for this before now - richie's always with you, either holding back your hair or being the one in your current position, you brushing his back from his face.

but now you're alone.

you're still kind of drunk after you're done and you're afraid you'll fall and hurt yourself if you shower, so you just brush your teeth.

checking your phone, you see a text from ben and some from eddie, but none from who you want it to be. you drop your phone and close your eyes, wishing you could fall asleep.

when you wake up, you feel crusty and have a terrible headache. you're still lying on top of your sheets and you still have your dress on from last night.

groaning, you sit up and rub your eyes, feeling gross and very dismal. you can't remember much, so you must have been a lot more fucked up than you thought. you don't remember getting home but you can kind of recall that richie left you... or you left him... and he was kissing someone from your math class. and you had accidentally kissed bill. what the hell.

spotting your phone on the floor, you grab it and wince as you see texts from eddie, ben, bev, bill, mike, and stan. and then your eyes widen:

there are five texts, twelve missed calls and two voice messages from richie.

fuck. you drowsily text the group chat that had everybody in it that you're sorry you left early and forgot to tell anyone, not wanting to explain it to everyone individually and also effectively avoiding having to talk to richie.

you knew it was childish to ignore him and be upset, but in the long run this was better than having to explain yourself to him and confess that your feelings for your best friend.

that could never end well, so you peel off your party dress and take a quick shower, pulling on some shorts and a shirt that used to be eddie's once you're clean.

you're about to go downstairs for some coffee when a pang at your window makes you jump. you curse yourself for not shutting the curtains, because you're sure that whoever is down there knows you're in your room.

and you're almost certain as a second, third, fourth, and fifth rock hits your window that it can be none other than richie tozier.

you groan, scrubbing your face with your hands. why did you have to deal with this now? you still go to the window, ignoring the nagging part of your brain that told you that you didn't have to deal with it. deep down, no matter how mad he was, you just wanted to see richie.

"y/n!" he calls, out of breath as you slide open your window. he’s frowning, jaw clenched and hands in his pockets. you swallow down the nerves, smiling at him nervously. "just, uh, just come in." you say timidly. he disappears and not fifteen seconds later, the front door is opening downstairs.

every footstep up your stairs is a nail in your coffin.

he walks into your room and you know you're fucked. he looks worse than you - his eyes have bags under them, his hair ruffled from his hands, and he's wearing the same thing he was last night. he looks like he wants to punch a wall and you feel sick with anxiety.

"so you freaked me out a little bit last night." he deadpans, his words seeming foreign coming from his lips devoid of any kind of teasing lilt. he's mad at you and you feel like crying.

"i'm sorry-" you start but he shakes his head.

"i don't care. you couldn't have sent a text? just one?" he asks, eyes rubbing under his glasses, sounding exhausted.

you turn red, embarrassed and sad and suffering through what might be the worst hangover of your short life. your eyes fill with tears but you refuse to let them fall. "i didn't think of it. i was walking back by myself." you lie, shrugging. he gives you a look and mutters, "couldn’t even get big bill to take you home?"

that makes you mad. you scowl, "i was going to ask you to come home, since thats what we always do, but you were too busy getting your dick wet." you spit.

god, you're acting like such a child, but richie takes the bait. his eyes widen comically and he groans in anger, "says you, y/n! you kissed my best friend!" he spits back. you roll your eyes. "i thought i was your best friend!" you counter.

"well so did i." he says plainly. your heart drops and your whole body shivers -but not like the way it did when richie took body shots off of you. this one felt like you were dunked into an ice cold pool.

"okay, richie. you're right. i'm sorry, i should have told you where i was going." you say meekly. you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes. "i just had some... realizations. and my stupid drunk brain thought it would be okay to not tell anyone where i was going."

richie sighs, shifting his weight from one converse to another. "just don't do it again, i - er, we didn't sleep much because w-we spent the whole night searching the house and the neighborhood for you. you fuckin’ slept through the rocks i threw at your window, sugar."

you blush in shame, unaware that they were all so concerned. "i'm sorry. and i'm sorry if i said stuff last night, i was just n-" your voice cracks as you speak say quietly. its silent for a moment and you quickly wipe the tear that escapes your eye. richie puts a hand on your shoulder and gently nudges you down to sit on your bed.

you don't look at him but cooperate, wiping your eyes as he sits next to you. you take a deep breath, "i was just surprised that you were... with that girl. i guess i was thrown off because it's usually you and me. and i know thats not fair. guess i was just, um, jealous." you mutter, wiping your face of tears as you dance around fully admiring your feelings.

your words are heavy in the air.

richie finally speaks up after what feels like forever. "i realized last night that... uh, i think when i drink without you, it's not fun. i actually... i hate it." richie says with a shrug. you still refuse to meet his eyes. "um, i think that it's not the alcohol that makes me feel the way i get. i realized its you. like - like you and i, we're..." he trails off, and you see his hands shake as they wring together anxiously.

"we're a lethal combination." you whisper, looking up into his eyes for the first time in a while. he looks exhausted, sad, and confused. and it's your fault.

your heart pangs with this realization. he shrugs, eyebrows furrowing. "i wasn't going to say that." he admits, shoulders deflating. his curls hand solemnly around his sculpted face. "but yeah, i guess you could call it that."

you let out a breath, figuring it’s time. "i um, i feel the same way. i hate all this stuff. unless... unless i'm with you." you mutter. you meet eyes and his stormy ones hold so many unspoken words that it knocks the breath out of you.

he looks deep into your eyes and he moves so his hand slowly hovers, drifting half way between his lap and your face. it feels like a million miles between you.

“i think that i...” you start, biting your lip. you don’t know how to express this burning feeling that you feel whenever you’re with him. you’re at a loss as you stare into his forgiving, patient, wild, loving eyes. loving...

richie nods, face as pink as you feel like yours is. “me too.” he whispers, glancing at your lips. you feel an immense weight lift off your chest and you almost laugh giddily, looking at richie. he’s beautiful.

you both slowly start to lean in until you’re touching noses, but you stop. he waits patiently, his hand falling gently on a knee and a cheek.

you're still confused and afraid but having richie so close makes you feel safe. you swallow dryly, wetting your lips. "can you be the one to do it?" you whisper, feeling his breathy, soft chuckle on your lips.

he's smiling lightly as he closes the gap, his laps chapped against yours. he quickly presses into you, making your cheeks heat up as your hands land on his chest.

kissing richie makes everything melt away - the blaring headache, the anxiety, confusion, doubt - all of it disappears as his hands caress your thigh and neck. he kisses you passionately, softly and intensely, his tongue soothing your own. you love every part of it. you love every part of him.

you pull apart and you're both shyly grinning.

"can i take you to get breakfast?" he whispers against your lips, biting his as he awaits your response.

affection blooms in your chest and you capture his lips with yours, hands on his cheeks as you pull him towards you. he kisses back eagerly, chuckling lightly against you. it makes you beam.

"please. im starving. my hangover is killer." you mumbling against him, making him laugh, hugging you and pulling you to him.

"let's go then, baby." he whispers with a kiss to the crown of your head.

#richie tozier x reader #losers x reader

189 notes · View notes

stareaten · 5 years ago

Text

pynch.

~5k words.

read on ao3 instead

Adam collects things. He clings to them; he hoards them.

You wouldn’t notice it at first, not with how logical and calculating he is, certainly not within the small space of Adam’s tiny apartment above St. Agnes filled with the mismatched, makeshift furniture, and surely not in the cluttered mess of the mismatched, makeshift desk where Adam is sitting, hunched over, and scribbling some shit about some fucking thing in one of his notebooks.

But because Ronan is Ronan, he starts catching up. He is lying sprawled on his back on Adam’s uncomfortable mattress, bored out of his mind. He left his headphones back at Monmouth and can’t be assed to go back to pick them up. Adam shows no intention on paying him any attention – at least not until he’s finished with whatever the fuck he’s working on – so Ronan decides to bother him just a bit. (It’s his philosophy notes he’s working on, Ronan knows it, because Ronan clings to everything Adam tells him. That’s why he knows it isn’t so important, because Adam knows it but still insists on being a giant, pain-in-the-ass nerd.)

Ronan rolls back onto his stomach and scoots closer to Adam’s desk, peering over his arm to try to understand Adam’s chicken scratch. He grabs one of the pens lying around and goes to write something – something stupid or sweet or rude or, considering he’s Ronan, all three at once – in the margin of the open notebook. He starts to write but the pen doesn’t work so he picks up another one. This time he manages to write one big letter before it runs out of ink. He scowls at the pen in an attempt to intimidate it into working, and then shakes it vigorously. When it still refuses to work, because apparently pens can feel no terror, he chucks it away and searches for another one. This one manages two more letters before dying out. Ronan frowns again, shakes it – again – and tries to press it more firmly into the paper before Adam’s hand comes up to grab at his wrist.

“Stop it,” Adam says without looking up from finishing his page, “you’re gonna tear the paper.”

“I wouldn’t have to tear your paper if you had a damn pen that works,” Ronan replies.

Adam says nothing, just flips the page and starts writing on the left side of the notebook, effectively stopping Ronan’s attempts at delinquency.

Ronan huffs. And picks up another pen. He manages to write a big capital A on the corner of the page before Adam elbows him in the face. Ronan rubs at his chin. “I was just testing to see if this one works.”

Adam hums. “They all work.”

“Like shit they do.”

“They all work in a pinch.”

“This is a pinch. And they don’t fucking work.”

“I would hardly call your attempts at desecrating my notes ‘a pinch’,” Adam says, nose still buried in said notes.

“It’s not desecrating if I make them more fun,” Ronan says.

Adam sighs. “Go be bored somewhere else.”

Ronan scowls, but lies back on the bed. He manages some good 10 minutes before picking up a crumbled up receipt from the floor and drawing more inappropriate things before the pen dies out.

***

Adam picks up empty yogurt cups Sargent leaves lying around the Barns and washes them out in the sink. He dries them with a kitchen towel, stacks them up and puts them in the cupboard above the microwave, where neither of them will actually be bothered to reach them.

“You can’t recycle them,” he says when Ronan tries to dump them in the trash. “Doesn’t mean you can’t use them again.”

“What for?” Ronan groans. “There are plenty of cups here. Plastic cups and glasses and cups that sing and cups that curse at you and whatever kind of cups your ass desires. Fuck, Parrish, I’ll dream you up another cup, just for you, which recites pluperfect of esse whenever you drink your gross fucking no sugar coffee out of it.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “We can use them for seedlings.”

“Right,” Ronan mutters. “Fucking seedlings.” But he sees Adam putting the yogurt cups up in the cabinet anyway.

***

Ronan visits Adam at college one weekend when Adam isn’t too busy studying and Declan is too busy to chew Ronan’s ass over one thing or another.

Adam wraps his arms around Ronan’s shoulders and releases a deep sigh.

“Fuck, Parrish,” Ronan says, rubbing his hand up and down Adam’s ribs. “You know freshman fifteen means you gain those pounds, not lose them, right?”

Adam huffs into his neck. “Guess you better learn how to cook then.”

Ronan groans and for a moment considers how difficult it would be to dream up a stove that makes any meal on its own. He would probably still end up eating pizzas anyway.

Adam’s dorm room is not big and Ronan knows which side of it is his as soon as he enters. There is a corkboard above his desk and Ronan leans closer to inspect everything that is pinned there while Adam changes out of his clothes.

There are receipts from the store and scrawled reminders for papers and homework and exams. There is a single black feather and a printed out picture of Gansey, Blue and Cheng standing in front of- some fucking monument Ronan didn’t care enough to remember the name of, Cheng’s ugly mug uncomfortably close to the camera. Gansey sent it to Ronan’s phone some time ago, but giving that Ronan only started actually checking his phone once Adam left for Harvard, it sat in the messages until Adam picked it up and grinned at it so hard that, one afternoon later, Ronan cursed and kicked and glared his old printer back to life in order to print it out. There is also a postcard Sargent sent him from Bumfuck, Nowhere just recently - Ronan can’t see the message on the back, but he knows who it’s from because he has a matching one sitting next to his computer, collecting dust so he can pretend it didn’t make his insides twist when he found it in the mail. (His personalized message only read ‘miss you, asshole – blue’ and he grinned before thinking better of it.)

And then there are… other pieces of trash. A bubblegum wrap and what appears to be a torn piece of post-it and one of those paper bracelets you get on those obnoxious student parties. There is a red solo cup right underneath it with two fugly red and white pens with Harvard logo sticking out of it. Ronan silently wonders if they even fucking work. There’s also a bunch of pamphlets stacked neatly on the edge of the desk and Ronan flips mindlessly through them. Fuck, he thinks, I’m in love with a hoarder.

He is quickly distracted from that thought by the aforementioned hoarder’s arms sliding around his middle. Adam kisses the back of his neck and then the soft spot under his ear, so Ronan has no choice but to turn around and kiss him senseless.

“Hi,” Adam breathes against his lips once they part, soft and quiet. His thumb gently massages the back of Ronan’s skull, while fingers of his other hand come up to trace Ronan’s cheekbone.

“Hi,” Ronan says, soft and quiet, because he loves Adam, loves him when he gets all pushy and hungry, loves him even more so when he gets soft and gentle and private and just for Ronan to see.

“I missed you,” Adam says and Ronan gets an excellent idea about moving Adam’s fingers closer to his lips but then there is a knock on the door and Adam’s hands fall away.

To his credit though, they don’t go very far. Adam takes a step back, but stays well within Ronan’s personal space, one of his beautiful hands resting on the inside of Ronan’s elbow. Ronan still scowls at the person knocking even before they enter the room.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Adam’s roommate says poking his head inside. “I just forgot to grab my notes.”

“No problem,” Adam replies, smiling politely. Ronan elects to stay silent this time.

The roommate leaves the door open as he moves to his side of the room, rummaging through his stuff, and Ronan almost groans when he sees another person standing in the doorway.

“Hey Adam,” the other boy says, nodding. “We’ll get out of your hair right away.”

Adam waves his arm dismissively. “It’s alright, really.”

Ronan would beg to fucking differ.

“Adam?” the roommate says and makes an apologetic face. “You wouldn’t happen to have some notes from the last Doyle’s class, would you?”

“From Wednesday morning class?” Adam frowns and lets go of Ronan’s arm to search through his own pile of notebooks. Ronan grits his teeth.

He doesn’t care to hear the rest of that conversation and instead turns to scowl at the boy at the doorway when he feels his eyes on the back of his neck. “What?” Ronan presses out.

The boy seems to remember himself as he stands up a bit straighter. “Sorry, just. You’re Adam’s boyfriend?”

“Yes,” Ronan say, frowning deeper.

“You’re the farmer?”

“Yes,” Ronan repeats and stuffs his fists into his pockets.

“Huh,” the guy says and leans on the doorway again. “Sorry, you’re just. Not what I expected. But that explains the jacket.”

“The jacket?” Ronan wonders how deeply he will have to twist his face in order to get this guy to leave.

“What do you grow?” the boy asks instead of explaining himself, in an attempt to be polite or rude or nosey or fucking annoying, see if Ronan cares which one. “On your farm?”

Ronan shrugs, feeling out of his depth and hating it. “Potatoes.”

“Potatoes?” the boy repeats, frowning like he’s never heard the word before.

“He’s Irish,” Adam suddenly says, grabbing at Ronan’s elbow. He looks at Ronan and there it is again, that private smile of his. Ronan has no choice but to deflate a little. “He thinks it’s funny.”

The guy at the door breathes out a short, fake laugh and Ronan hates him. But the roommate is already pushing him out and saying to Adam over his shoulder: “Thank you so much, Adam, for the notes, and sorry for bothering you again. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiles and then they're gone.

Ronan still scowls at the door.

“Sorry about that,” Adam says and he is already putting his hands back where they belong, kissing just under Ronan’s jaw. Understandably, Ronan loses the ability to think for quite a while.

It’s only when he is finally, finally removing his shirt over his head that he remembers to ask: “The jacket?”

“Huh?” Adam says intelligently, his sole focus on the button of Ronan’s jeans.

“The other guy. He mentioned your jacket.”

“Huh?” Adam repeats, but now he raises his head to look at Ronan. “Oh!” he says as his eyes light up with understanding. “I took your jacket. The old leather one.” He shrugs. “You were going to throw it away, didn’t think you’d care. Some of the guys were teasing me, said it didn’t fit my style – whatever they think my style is supposed to be – I told them I took it from you.”

“The one with the burnt sleeve?” Ronan frowns again. “Parrish, if you needed a new jacket…”

“I didn’t need it, okay?” Adam says and rolls his eyes. “It’s just a nice jacket and you didn’t want it anyway. Can we now stop talking about clothes and get back to removing them?” To prove his point, Adam lifts the edge of his own shirt and pulls it off, and every other thought Ronan might have had flies right away with it.

***

Opal runs across the pasture straight into Adam’s arms as soon as she hears his car coming around the corner. Ronan berates her for it (“Let him catch a breath, for fuck’s sake.”) if only because he didn’t get to do it first.

But Adam just smiles and lets Opal cling to him, crouches down to be at the same eye level. She pulls out a piece of colorful candy wrapper, half-eaten and sticky with spit and fuck knows what else, and holds it out for Adam to take. Ronan watches, amused, as Adam tries not to make a disgusted face and promptly fails at it.

“Thank you, Opal,” he still says, taking it from her. Opal beams at him.

And then Adam finally straightens up and turns around so that Ronan can wrap himself around him and kiss his temples.

“I have a trunk full of stuff to take upstairs,” Adam says in lieu of hello.

“You also have two perfectly working legs and arms to match, so I don’t know how that has anything to do with me,” Ronan replies into his hair.

Adam huffs a laugh. “Asshole.” He pinches Ronan’s side and Ronan pushes him away, feigning being hurt, before turning around and heading straight for the trunk of his shit car.

It’s much, much later that Adam drags him to the laundry room. Well. He doesn’t exactly drag him there. It’s more that Adam hoists up a bag full of dirty clothes and heads towards the laundry room and Ronan wordlessly follows him there, picking up a new box of washing powder from the pantry.

Adam starts talking about the last oral exam he had and it’s a testament to how much Ronan missed him that he doesn’t even make a crude joke about it, just leans against the washing machine and watches Adam empty the pockets of his pants, clinging to his every word. And for someone who is constantly giving Ronan shit about the state of his car, Adam sure does carry a lot of trash in his pockets.

He pulls out a piece of candy wrapper Ronan at first doesn’t even recognize as the one Opal gave him – its colors shifted now that it dried in Adam’s pocket – and he doesn’t even pause his story before straightening it and putting it in the back pocket of the jeans he is currently wearing. Ronan frowns, but stays silent.

***

It was Adam’s idea to clean out the closets in the first place. Ronan, understandably, groaned and rolled his eyes and kicked the floor and used very colorful language to express his disdain. He even promised to dream up a new closet, just for Adam and his bunch of shit, really, Parrish, you won’t even have to look at Ronan’s clothes ever again, he’ll make it so that it chews and spits out Ronan’s tank tops even if he puts them there by mistake, just please don’t make him spend another summer day holed up inside.

But Adam, ever the pragmatic, just shakes his head. “Where would you even put a new dresser? The room’s cluttered enough.”

Ronan considers giving him a very imaginative answer to that particular question, but realizes that he is still going to end up cleaning the closets anyway, only this way he won’t have to deal with both of them pissed off. Not that either of them ends up happy though. It’s an incredibly uninteresting and tiring chore, especially given the fact that ninety-nine percent of Ronan’s clothes is black – the remaining one percent being dark gray or somewhat lighter gray or, very rarely, deep dark blue – and it’s hard to recognize which of his tees are the ones good to keep and which ones are too tight or too ripped even for him to wear. After an hour or so he just ends up chucking them on two separate piles randomly.

He stays out of Adam’s stuff for quite a while, mostly because Adam has significantly less stuff than Ronan (not that anyone would guess it, given their respective fashion choices), but Ronan’s fucking boyfriend is as pedantic about this as he is about anything else. Adam holds up every item, squints at it for a second or two, and if he decides to keep it he folds it carefully on one of the piles he has around the room.

“Go find a box,” Adam says after Ronan sighs for the fifth time in a minute, idly pushing Adam’s stuff around.

Ronan frowns. “What for?”

Adam doesn’t look up from his pile of clothes. “So we can pack up some of the clothes you just tossed away and I can drive it to Goodwill on my way to Boyd’s.”

Ronan considers it for a moment and nods. Okay, maybe Adam has a point, so what. Doesn’t mean he won’t be difficult about it, since he’s still bored as hell. “What boxes?”

“In the small barn, bring the sturdy ones,” Adam replies, folding another t-shirt carefully.

Ronan stomps to the small barn, kicks some stuff around, comes back empty handed. “There isn’t one.”

Adam frowns. “There has to be at least a few. I left them there months ago.”

“Oh, those,” Ronan says, sarcastically, but is immediately hit with a flashback of one very boring afternoon when he and Opal decided to set shit on fire after Adam let him know he won’t be able to come that weekend after all, and Declan called to tell him he’s coming down for some shit or another and he and Ronan should get lunch. “I got rid of those,” he says, because he doesn’t lie but also isn’t too keen on explaining Adam what exactly happened to them.

Adam closes his eyes and sighs. “Well, there’s gotta be at least one box around here somewhere.”

Ronan shrugs. “I’ll check the long barn.”

He manages to find two cardboard boxes, similar enough in sizes. He brings them all the way to the porch before thinking better of it and bringing them back so he can dust them off first. When he finally hauls them upstairs, he finds Adam frowning at a pair of jeans.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” he drawls as he watches Ronan drop the boxes at his feet, “and assume you know what kinda clothes are good for donation.”

“Fuck you,” Ronan says, which roughly translates to I’ll go through all my shit again and throw the good ones in the shittier looking box, and then he gets to it with just as much enthusiasm as before. Adam says nothing, but Ronan sees one corner of his mouth lifting into a very rude smile.

It must have been hours, days, weeks, fucking years later that they finally manage to sort the old but wearable clothes into the donation boxes (it’s mostly stuff Ronan doesn’t want to wear and Adam doesn’t want to steal from him, and then some stuff of Adam’s that do not fit him right anymore) and the unwearable clothes into trash bags. It’s certainly been long enough that Adam decides they deserve a break.

“Come on,” he says, offering his hand to Ronan who’s sitting on the floor, his legs splayed out. “There’s some ice cream in the freezer.”

Ronan squints up at him, suspicious. “Since when?”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Since the other day when I came from Boyd’s while you were busy chasing goats away from the long barn.” He wiggles his fingers a little. “Unless you want to keep cleaning.”

“You kept ice cream from me for three days?” Ronan huffs, but still takes his hand and lets Adam pull him up.

“It’s not hiding it if you never think to check the freezer,” Adam replies, because he has to be a smartass about everything. Ronan forgives him as soon as the ice cream is out and it’s the kind that Ronan likes the best but rarely when buys because Adam prefers a different one.

Ronan fills two mugs – cause they have a shit ton of those, but no clean bowls apparently – with the ice cream and brings them out to the porch where Adam is already sitting on the stairs facing the pasture. He hands him his mug and Adam leans up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

They sit in silence broken only by soft clicking of spoons against ceramic and crickets singing in the grass. The sun is setting behind the woods surrounding the Barns, coloring the sky red and pink and orange. Adam presses his leg against Ronan’s wordlessly and Ronan leans into him until their shoulders brush. Sometimes Ronan thinks he could stay like this forever, just feeling Adam’s body calm and relaxed against his, sharing the quiet between them without a care in the world. He wishes he could somehow freeze the moment and tuck it into his back pocket to look at it later, when Adam’s away and his side of the bed is cold.

“You know we still have to put the clothes away, right?” Adam asks nudging his knee with his own.

And sometimes, Ronan just wants to fucking kill him.

Instead of dignifying that with a response, he leans forward and licks Adam’s cheek.

“Eww,” Adam says, pushing at him playfully. “Real mature.”

“You had some ice cream on your face,” Ronan replies. “Couldn’t let it go to waste.”

“Gross,” Adam says, standing up and rubbing his hand against Ronan’s scalp.

Ronan follows him inside begrudgingly.

Once the boxes are out of the way, putting away the clothes is going much faster than sorting it out, albeit it’s not any less boring – for one part because Ronan doesn’t care where exactly in the closet his clothes end up and Adam is too busy organizing his own to berate him for just bunching up a handful of tank tops and stuffing them on the second highest shelf.

Once done, Ronan looks around the room to make sure nothing is left lying around when he spots one of Adam’s tees lying on the bed. He picks it up and sees that it’s threadbare, with a hole in the front and pieces of thread hanging from the sleeves.

“Hey, Marie Kondo,” Ronan calls, “you forgot this one.”

“The fact that you know who she is takes a significant part out of the insult,” Adam says, returning back to the room.

“Everyone knows who she is.” Ronan glares for good measure, even though he knows Adam is immune to it, and balls the tee in his hand, already reaching for a trash bag with his other, before Adam stops him.

“No, wait.” He grabs at the hand holding the tee. “I’m keeping that one.”

Ronan frowns. “It’s shit.”

“So is a good portion of your wardrobe,” Adam replies. “Give me.”

“My shirts at least don’t fucking look like moths had a dinner party,” Ronan says. “I’m throwing this out.”

“It’s my t-shirt,” Adam says, frowning deeply. “You can’t throw it away.”

“Watch me,” Ronan says and raises his hand higher in an attempt to get out of Adam’s reach.

Adam doesn’t attempt to reach anymore, though. He just crosses his arms over his chest and now Ronan knows he’s really upset. “Why are you being such a dick about it?”

Ronan’s frown deepens. “You were giving me shit about tidying up all day and now you’re giving me shit about throwing away an old t-shirt?”

Adam’s jaw clenches. “Sorry we can’t all afford to have twenty Tom Fords in our closets, Lynch.”

“You have a wardrobe full of shit, Parrish. This one’s basically see-through.” Ronan raises the tee in front of his face to prove his point.

Adam snatches it away. “It’s mine,” he says and turns back to the closet.

Ronan watches him as he folds the old t-shirt, his back tense and shoulders up to his ears. “Whatever, Parrish,” he says and takes the last trash bag outside.

***

Ronan can’t sleep. Which is nothing new, to be perfectly honest. He kicks the covers to the foot of the bed and gets up to piss. On his way back he pulls his t-shirt off and throws it in some corner of the room or the other. He glances at Adam’s back before climbing back to bed next to him.

There is no way Adam is asleep while it’s hot as balls, not while the sheets keep sticking to their skin every time they move, not while his body is wound so tight he would probably jump out of bed and straight through the window if Ronan touched him.

Fine, Ronan thinks. If Adam intends to stay pissed at him for no fucking reason whatsoever, who is Ronan to stop him. Adam always does what he wants, when he wants, anyway. Leaves when he wants, can leave Ronan behind if he wants, leaves Ronan feeling like shit over something he doesn’t even know he’s done wrong.

Ronan punches his pillow into, truthfully, no more comfortable lump than before and turns to lie on his back. He can hear the owl hooting outside. There is no fucking wind. Ronan rubs the heel of his hand against his right eye, but doesn’t curse out loud.

“It’s what I was wearing,” Adam says suddenly, his voice carefully neutral, “back then.”

Ronan considers this for a moment. “What?”

Adam stays silent for a moment before curling into himself a bit more. “Nothin’,” he mutters. “Forget it.”

Ronan frowns, thinks back to the fucking t-shirt now lying somewhere in the closet. “You were wearing it when?”

He hears Adam exhale slowly. “When you first kissed me.”

Oh, Ronan thinks. He lets the words sink in, but he can’t find anything good to say. “That’s why you didn’t want to throw it away?” It comes out more as a question than an explanation.

“Yeah.” Adam swallows. “No.”

Ronan stays silent, at a loss as to what to do. He wants to reach for Adam, pull him close and kiss away whatever it is troubling his mind. He wants to hold his hand and feel at ease. But he knows Adam would only just pull away now. So he waits.

Adam takes a breath before slowly rolling over onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “I didn’t have much growing up,” he says, and, no shit, Ronan still remembers the meager backpack and a cereal box Adam carried out of that fucking trailer years ago, remembers carrying the duffel bag and thinking ‘this is Adam’s whole life here’, remembers being careful not to bang it against anything.

“I had to take care of things if I wanted to have them for longer,” Adam continues, “cause once they were gone, they were gone. And even if something breaks, you keep it, because you can always reuse it in a pinch. Like the pens.” He swallows. “I can’t write an essay with an empty pen, but sometimes I can write down an important phone number or a reminder. A broken thing is still better than no thing at all, right?”

Ronan sneaks a look at Adam and finds that his eyes are firmly closed even as he continues.

“And if you gotta spend money, you want evidence of what you spent it on, so it doesn’t just disappear one day without you noticing." He pauses. "You want to make sure that the thing was real, y’know.”

And oh. Oh, Ronan thinks, there it is. “Adam,” he whispers gently and slides his hand across the sheets to find Adam’s. Because Ronan would know a thing or two about wanting to stick to something so badly, about being so scared of losing the one good thing he has, about being terrified it wasn’t even real to begin with.

Adam rolls his head from side to side, rubbing at his forehead with his other hand, but he lets Ronan entwine their fingers. “I know it’s stupid,” he says.

“Kinda is,” Ronan says. Tries for humor: “Glad to know that I’m not the only stupid one in this relationship.” Fails.

Adam rolls his head again, doesn’t open his eyes.

Ronan shifts until he’s lying on his side. “Hey,” he says quietly and leans forward to kiss Adam’s shoulder. “You’re not planning on getting rid of me, are you?”

“No,” Adam answers and finally blinks his eyes open. “Of course not.” He sighs and turns to face Ronan. “It’s just-,” he stops himself, swallows, tries again. “I’m happy. I’m so impossibly happy, Ronan, and one part of me keeps waiting for everything to be taken away from me.” He kicks the cover off with his legs. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Ronan wants to say something. He wants to say you’ll always have me, and if it’s up to me, you’ll never lack anything ever in your entire life, and I don’t want you to worry ever again, and I want you to have everything, and I love you so much it hurts sometimes. But Adam is smart, the smartest person Ronan knows. Adam knows all this already. Some scars just take longer to heal. Some scars just never completely heal. Ronan would know a thing or two about that, too.

So Ronan just scoots closer, heat be damned, and lets Adam hide his face into his neck.

***

Ronan dreams up a pen that never runs out of ink and puts it in Adam’s messenger bag while he’s working at Boyd’s. He debates dreaming up a pencil case when he realizes Adam doesn’t have one, then debates buying one from Amazon like any other asshole would, but then decides that Adam wouldn’t let him get away with that. He got better at accepting gifts from Ronan, though. It’s more that Ronan would be compelled to buy something ugly or funny or ridiculous – like that disgusting one shaped like a dead fish – and Adam would refuse to take it to classroom.

Adam washes out yogurt cups and ice cream containers, and Ronan dries them with a kitchen towel before turning around and using it to smack Adam’s ass with it. Adam cusses him out and chases him around. They both somehow end up in a laughing heap on the floor.

One night, Adam takes a cardboard box out of the closet and sits it on the bed before beckoning Ronan over. He takes out pieces of papers and shit and tells Ronan stories for every single one. Ronan recognizes a few of the items instantly: scraps of candy wrappers and dry leaves from Opal, a flower Ronan took out of his dreams while he was still building Lindenmere, one half of a watch band with teeth marks on it, another postcard from Blue.

Then there is a piece of wrap from a chewing gum Adam’s college friend gave him on his first night there. There is a movie ticket from a screening of some boring ass movie they had to see for one of their classes, when Adam and his roommate were the only ones in the theater and they ended up laughing so hard they were sick. There is a safety pin one of Adam’s classmates gave him to temporarily fix a shirt when he accidentally tore it right before his big presentation in the class.

Ronan knows every one of these stories already, Adam telling him everything over the phone, but he still soaks in every single word Adam says. He never realized before that Adam kept mementos. He realizes that, yes, these little scraps make the stories a tiny bit more real.

There is also an old, beaten to shit notebook which Ronan recognizes as Adam’s old Latin notebook and, sure enough, when Adam flips the pages there are profanities written in Ronan’s handwriting on the margins of the pages.

Next time he visits Adam, he takes him out for lunch, and Ronan pockets the receipt before leaving the restaurant. Back in Adam’s room, he scribbles something on the back of it – having found a working pen on the first try – and stuffs it in Adam’s pocket while hugging him goodbye.

(Ronan also happens to leave his hoodie under Adam’s pillow. Adam doesn’t ask, Ronan doesn’t lie.)

Adam comes home for the winter break hauling more dirty clothes and a bookshop worth of notebooks. He spots Ronan’s addition to the room right away, but waits until he deposits the bags so he can put his hands on his hips judgmentally. “This is new,” he says.

Ronan shrugs. He watches wordlessly as Adam crosses the room to carefully slide his hand across the big wooden chest. Its honey color is still shining faintly, and its hinges are golden. (It’s the third one he’s made, but Adam doesn’t have to know that. The first two were so goddamn awful that all the evidence of them was quickly destroyed, this time no thanks to Opal.)

“And you didn’t think we have room for another dresser,” Ronan says, just to be a smartass.

Adam doesn’t fall for it this time. “It’s beautiful, Ronan.”

Ronan crosses the room to stand closer to him. “Figured you’d need something sturdier.”

“Hmm?” Adam hums, still admiring the chest.

“You know,” Ronan says, and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Your box is good and all, but it’s cardboard. It won't last much longer, not if you keep adding shit to it, and you’ll run out of space. And I know Opal keeps giving you fucking rocks, whatever, it’s your fucking fault for enabling her, but she-,”

Adam cuts him off by grabbing his face with both of his hands and kissing him, deeply and roughly. “Thank you,” he breathes against Ronan’s lips before diving in for another kiss.

***

Ronan considers the possibility that his boyfriend has some weird ass tidying up kink (and then promptly considers the possibilities of using that to his advantage) because Adam’s barely been home for three days before Ronan finds him decluttering their room. But apparently it’s just, no, Lynch, we’re already hauling stuff out so we can repaint the room so it’s only logical to go through the shit we don’t need anymore. Maybe it’s pragmatism kink. Or competency kink. (Fuck, does Ronan have competency kink?)

Ronan watches as Adam dumps a handful of pens into a trash can, follows those with candy wraps and a broken pieces of plastic from fuck knows what. Ronan joins him by throwing out three empty glue sticks, a pair of broken scissors, more fucking yogurt cups (which Ronan won’t ever admit drinking out of because he couldn’t be assed to wash out any of three hundred glasses lying around the sink). He gets bored quickly enough, and he doesn’t want to throw out anything Adam might want to keep, so he settles on hauling furniture out of the room. Adam teases him about showing off, but Ronan doesn’t miss the way Adam checks him out, his eyes catching on Ronan’s exposed arms, so fuck you, Parrish, I win.

“Hey, what’s this?” Ronan says picking up a ball-up piece of fabric lying on top of a trash can, before he recognizes it.

Adam comes to stand next to him. “You were right,” he says, and some other time Ronan might have been smug about those words coming from him. “It’s shit. And I don’t need it anymore.”

Ronan looks at the t-shirt in his hands, pokes a finger through the hole on its front. “No, you don’t need it.”

“I can kiss you whenever I want now,” Adam reasons, and leans forward to kiss Ronan’s shoulder to prove his point.

Ronan turns his head to press a kiss to Adam’s hair. “Maybe you could keep this one, though,” he says, too nonchalant to be anything but. “It kinda grew on me.”

Adam smiles up at him.

Yeah, Ronan thinks, some things are worth clinging onto.

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alirhi · 3 years ago

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Toy Soldiers chapter 1

Title: Toy Soldiers Chapter: 1/? Fandom: MCU Rating: 18+ Focus: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes Summary: Wounded and delirious but grateful (and shocked) to be alive after his fall from the train, Bucky thinks he's been rescued when he's pulled from the snow. It doesn't take long for him to realize he would have been better off dead. WARNINGS: Language, references to (and possibly graphic depictions of; we'll see how it goes) torture, brainwashing, violence, rape Notes: I don't want to give much away here, but I do want to assure you all that no, I don't ship anyone appearing in this chapter. I'm also not yaddayaddaing the arm thing. more detail on that later.

Once, he would have been grateful to be brought back home to the States. He didn't know it, really, but he was so close to home. It didn't matter, though; just like in Europe, he never left the lab.

“How-” His throat hurt. Was it from how little he'd spoken lately... Or from how much he'd screamed? Wincing, he swallowed, coughed, and tried again. “How long...?”

“Your arm should be operational within the week,” the pretty brunette with the clipboard and the funny accent told him. She looked and sounded so familiar... “If that's what you're asking. Just relax, Sergeant Barnes. You're in good hands.”

It wasn't what he was asking. He didn't even know what she was talking about.

“I trust you'll take excellent care of him, Doctor Zola.” Her clipped, accented voice was steely as she turned to face the small man in the corner that Bucky hadn't noticed. Voice softening as she laid a hand softly on the prone Sergeant's shoulder, she added, “He meant so much to...” She stopped abruptly, cleared her throat, patted Bucky awkwardly, and turned away. “Well. Anyway. Do what you can; I'll be in touch.”

Forgetting for a moment that he didn't have a left hand anymore, Bucky reached for her. He was stunned when her skirt caught on something shiny.

Even more so when that 'something shiny' turned out to be attached to him. “How... What...?”

Dark brown eyes, warm, soft, and so familiar, locked with his as she gently pried the metal fingers loose from her skirt. “Rest, Sergeant. It will be alright.” She stepped lightly out of his reach and the authority returned to her voice as she headed for the door. “Surprising level of dexterity already. Do pass my compliments on to Stark, Doctor, won't you?”

“Stark?” Why did that name ring a bell?

“Of course, Agent Carter.” The little toad in the corner, Zola, sounded so insidious. Bucky hated him already. There was something unnervingly familiar about him, too. As the pretty brunette left, Zola approached him with a grin. “Sergeant Barnes,” he hissed, “You will be the new fist of HYDRA.”

So, he was still in HYDRA's clutches. They'd moved him, he knew, but-

Stark. Agent Carter.

He gaped at the toad, barely registering the reflection of his own stunned, scruffy face in the smaller man's glasses. Zola. Son of a fucking bitch.

The little bastard was quick. He darted out of the way as Bucky surged up and made a swipe for him. He grabbed someone else in a lab coat, instead, and didn't even hesitate. HYDRA. He hadn't nearly died trying to bring them down, only to turn around and let them keep experimenting on him without a fight. The scientist's neck snapped with a very satisfying audible crunch before Bucky was pinned, subdued, and injected with something that made him woozy.

So, Howard Stark and Peggy Carter were working with HYDRA. Fucking traitors. He was still fighting, flinging people off of him and watching in vague amazement as a couple of them flew clear across the room. Apparently deciding the drugs weren't working fast enough, one of them injected him again.

As it finally took effect and the world started to slow and dim, Bucky's last coherent thought was I hope Steve doesn't know.

“How long have I been here?” he finally managed to ask in a scratchy, gravelly voice the next time he was aware.

“A few weeks,” was the dismissive answer he got from one of the younger lab coats. He noticed they stayed out of easy reach as often as they could.

Weeks. That didn't seem right, but it was a relief to hear. If it'd only been weeks, then maybe Steve was still holding out hope; maybe Bucky hadn't been declared dead yet. They'd be looking for him...

His head cleared a bit more, and his heart sank. He'd said 'here', and they'd probably interpreted that literally. “How long,” he tried again, swallowing several times when his throat still ached, “since the train...?”

“Train?” That confused the kid he was talking to, and he glanced at one of his companions.

The other man, late thirties at least by the looks of him and annoyingly familiar, stepped forward. His voice was soft when he spoke, as if he was trying to soothe a frightened rabbit. “It's 1955, Barnes. It's been ten years since you went missing on that mission. We all thought you were dead.”

Ten years?! “Ten... fucking years?” He surged up off the table, only to be caught and held back down.

“Take your hands off him,” the other man snapped, waving the lab coats back. “This man is a hero.”

“He's dangerous, Stark!”

“He's Cap's right hand, for god's sake!”

“Stark.” Eyes wide and feeling panicked, Bucky reached for him. Howard didn't so much as flinch; he let Bucky grab his arms, and even helped him sit up. “Howard. Howard Stark – I remember you. I... Where's Steve?”

The pain in Howard's eyes answered him before his mouth could. Shaking his head in desperate denial, Bucky sank back against the chilly steel. “Don't. Don't you fucking dare.”

“You've never been afraid of anything, Barnes.” Howard winced, hands twitching like he wanted to reach for him, but he didn't. “What did those bastards do to you?”

Closing his eyes against the stab of pain did nothing to ease it; all it did was bring up a rush of dizzying, confusing images. Cold. Blood. Bright lights and gleaming steel. Foreign tongues swirling around him. Pain. White-hot endless nauseating pain...

“Where's Steve?” This time his voice came out a choked whimper, and he appreciated the kindness when no one around him commented on it.

The answer, when it came, was exactly what he'd been dreading: “He's dead. I'm sorry. He went down...”

Tuning out the soft cadence of his once-idol's voice, Bucky sagged against the table. Dead. He's dead. Stupid, reckless, good-for-nothing punk...

“Is he crying?”

“You wanna mind your damn business, Johnson? He lost a brother; let the man grieve.”

“I-it's just... He's been so volatile... I didn't expect-”

“What, human emotion? Try showing some, or get the hell out.” He felt Howard lean closer, and his voice was weirdly gentle again as he murmured, “I'm sorry, Barnes. I know you two were close.”

“Get...” His throat closed. He swallowed a couple of times, allowed a tiny sliver of gratitude when the rim of a cup was pressed to his lips and he got a sip of water, and tried again: “Get out.”

“Alright, Sarge. Alright. I was just checking on the arm.”

There was a soft thunk thunk against something metallic, accompanied by an odd tickling vibration in his shoulder and chest, and then some shuffling. It sounded like someone was moving away, and someone else was coming closer. Bucky didn't bother opening his eyes to find out what was going on.

“He's overwhelmed. Let's- Is that really necessary?”

“He's dangerous, Stark.” That voice sounded too close for comfort. He felt something cold and hard clamp down on his right wrist, and heard the clack of metal against metal on his left, and then a jab on the right. “We either leave armed guards, or this. We can't just let him wander.”

“You're treating him like a crazed murderer.”

“Well, he did kill Simmons.”

“...Right. I forgot about that. Oh, whatever. Fine. Sorry, Barnes, these guys...”

Bucky faded out before he could hear the rest of what Howard had to say. It was just as well; he didn't care what he had to say. Steve was dead. Stupid punk went and got himself killed. It'd been ten years, which meant Bucky's whole family thought he was dead, too. He had no one. Did anything else really matter anymore? This time, when oblivion came, he didn't fight it. He embraced it.

“You will be the new fist of HYDRA...”

The next time he woke, he was screaming; it wasn't enough to drown out the echoes of the little Swiss toad's insidious voice in his head. Why the fuck was he so cold?

“I told you not to put him back on ice!” That clipped voice, the lilting accent... Who was she, again? “He's a human being, for god's sake! He's not an ice cream cone!”

His teeth were chattering so hard his jaw ached as a blanket was thrown over him and tucked up under his chin. What was happening? Who were these people? Who was he? Everything was so foggy...

“Doctor Zola said-”

“Ugh. I'll deal with the good Doctor. Just... Get out of my sight, you wretch! Sergeant Barnes, are you alright?”

Barnes. Sergeant Barnes. “Three two,” he croaked automatically as memories slowly began to resurface. “Five five...”

“Shhh. Enough of that, soldier.” A soft, warm hand stroked his cheek and he smiled softly, leaning into it. “You're safe now.” There was a sharp hiss, and she whispered, “You're still so cold.”

A rustle of cloth made him open his eyes, and he was somewhat startled to see the pretty brunette hastily tugging off her clothes. “Um... Hey, now, you're lovely, Doll, but...”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Half frozen to death and your brain scrambled and what little mind you've got left is still in the gutter. Typical bloody man.”

“What-”

“You need body heat,” she snapped as, down to her underwear, she slid under the blanket with him and pressed in close with a shiver. “You haven't got any at the moment. So take mine.”

“Seems like you kinda need it.” He was pleased when that comment earned him a soft chuckle from her, and he brought his arm up to wrap around her. She was so warm...

“I'll survive.”

“Thank you.” I know her... How do I know her? Punky? No. Punk loved her. P... Pe... “Peggy.”

With her face pressed against his chest, he felt her soft smile, and a little warm glow inside when she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “That's Agent Carter, thank you, Sergeant,” she teased.

Bucky managed an exhausted smile at that. It hurt; his lips were chapped from the cold, but he didn't care. It felt nice to smile, like he hadn't done it in years. “Right. Only Steve got to call you Peggy.”

They both went rigid at that, and Bucky winced as memories started to float back to him. Steve utterly failing to flirt with this woman, pining for her, talking about her, staring at that photo he stuck inside his compass... Steve...

“He's dead.” Howard's words, soft though they'd been when he spoke them, rang like a gong through his head.

“How...” He choked, shivering from more than the cold, and tried again. “How did he die?”

“Stubborn foolishness,” Peggy whispered, her voice just as choked with pain as his own.

Bucky nodded to himself, closing his eyes. That made sense.

“He saved the world.”

He smiled softly and held her just a bit tighter. That made sense, too. “Did you love him?”

She was silent for what felt like an eternity. At first, he thought she might refuse to answer, but then, so softly he almost didn't hear her, she murmured, “I always will.”

“Me, too.”

Another long silence stretched on, and then she told him, “You're all that's left in the world of him, Sergeant. The two of you were as close as any family...” She lifted her head and he glanced down at her, surprised to see how intensely her eyes shone; she was trying not to cry. “So you're forbidden to die, do you hear me? I won't allow it.”

“Then maybe you should turn up the heat in here a little,” he joked, trying to make them both smile, but failing miserably. “Feels like a morgue.”

“Yes, well...” She dropped her head back onto his chest. They were both shivering now; dimly, Bucky recalled that he hadn't been in the first few seconds after he woke, and that it was supposed to be a good sign that he was. “As long as a certain appendage doesn't suddenly get 'rigor mortis',” Peggy was saying, drawing his attention back to her, “I'm sure all will be well.”

The joke wasn't all that funny, but he was so surprised the prim and proper Englishwoman had made it that he laughed. With a rueful grin he shot back, “I'd have to find it first, Doll.”

That got a startled, tired giggle out of her, and then they both lapsed into a pensive silence.

#fanfiction #toy soldiers #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #pro bucky barnes #victim not villain #howard stark #peggy carter #captain america the first avenger #captain america the winter soldier

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