#to clarify--this man's car was PATHETIC
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merl-out · 2 years ago
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Me, mostly aroace: I don't get instant attraction. That's never been something that makes sense to me. The way people talk about relationships makes romantic and sexual attraction sound like a prank to me idk
Also me: so I fell in love with a stranger for two minutes today on the drive home because his car was so pathetic--
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its-avalon-08 · 4 months ago
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hello could I please request a Fernando x driver reader long one shot.: maybe where she’s Jules Bianchi or Sennas daughter and the whole trope of she fell first but he fell harder. It seems like he hates her or what ever lots of angst but then lots of fluff in the end please I’m dying for some nando stuff
The One That Got Away (Until She Didn’t) (fa14)
✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader
✦ genre - enemies to lovers, angst, bianchi!daughter!reader, cute, fluff,
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The roar of engines filled the paddock, drowning out any attempt at conversation. To Y/N Bianchi, that sound was home. She’d grown up hearing it from the sidelines, watching her father, Jules Bianchi, carve out a name for himself on the track. Now, it was her turn. And she was determined to do more than just live in her father’s shadow.
Y/N had proven herself time and time again in the lower categories, earning her place on the Formula 1 grid not as Jules’ daughter, but as Y/N Bianchi—talented in her own right. But there was one person who didn’t seem to care. One person who, no matter what she did, kept his distance. Cold. Detached. That person was Fernando Alonso.
She felt his eyes on her now as she adjusted her helmet before practice. His gaze was always there—burning holes into her, yet never engaging. It wasn’t admiration or respect. No, it was something darker. Disdain, maybe? Contempt?
Fernando Alonso, two-time world champion, one of the most experienced drivers on the grid, and the man she had admired since she was a child, seemed to hate her.
She wasn’t naive. She knew how the paddock worked. The comparisons to her father were inevitable, and she could deal with that. But Fernando’s icy attitude toward her went beyond mere skepticism. It was as though her very presence was an insult to him, a constant reminder of something she couldn’t quite understand.
“I don’t get him,” Y/N muttered to her race engineer, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling in her chest.
“Hm?” he asked, distracted as he went over the car’s setup for the session.
“Alonso,” she clarified, stealing a glance across the garage. Fernando was deep in conversation with his own team, but for just a second, his eyes flicked toward her, narrowing slightly before he turned away. “He acts like I don’t belong here.”
Her engineer chuckled. “Fernando’s like that with everyone. Don’t take it personally.”
But it was personal. She could feel it in the way he ignored her, never acknowledging her efforts on the track, never offering even a nod of recognition. Every interaction—or lack thereof—felt like a rejection. She’d tried to talk to him once or twice, but each time, he’d brushed her off, offering nothing more than curt one-liners before walking away.
But despite it all, Y/N couldn’t help the way her heart raced when he was near. She hated herself for it. Admiring someone who clearly couldn’t stand her? Pathetic. She’d spent her entire life learning how to shut out doubt, how to ignore the voices that told her she wasn’t enough. But with Fernando, it was different. His silence cut deeper than anyone’s words ever could.
Later that afternoon, the team debrief ended, and Y/N found herself lingering in the paddock, stretching the muscles in her neck after a long day of practice. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the scene, and most of the other drivers had already left. Except for Fernando.
She saw him leaning against the wall near his motorhome, scrolling through his phone, his face cast in shadows. Something in her snapped. The tension had been building for months now, and she was done pretending she didn’t notice his cold shoulder. She was done feeling like she had to prove herself to him.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N strode over, her boots scuffing the gravel beneath her feet. Fernando looked up as she approached, his expression unreadable, as usual.
“Can I help you?” he asked, his tone indifferent, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of annoyance.
Y/N crossed her arms, standing just a few feet away from him. “Why do you hate me?”
Fernando raised an eyebrow. “Hate you?” He pushed off the wall, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I don’t hate you.”
“Really? Because that’s sure what it feels like.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she held her ground. “Every time I’m near you, you act like I’m some kind of nuisance. You don’t talk to me. You don’t even look at me unless you’re judging me. So what is it? Do you think I don’t deserve to be here? Or is it because I’m Bianchi’s daughter and that makes me some kind of charity case?”
Fernando’s expression darkened. “Careful, Y/N.”
“No,” she shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m tired of being careful. I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you. What’s your problem?”
For a moment, Fernando said nothing. His eyes flicked over her face, and something unfamiliar passed between them—an emotion she couldn’t quite place. Regret? Anger? No, it was something else. But before she could process it, Fernando spoke, his voice colder than she’d ever heard it.
“You think I care about what you do?” he asked, stepping closer. His presence was overwhelming, and she fought the instinct to step back. “You’re not special, Y/N. You’re just another driver, trying to make it. If you think I’m here to validate you, you’re wrong. I don’t owe you anything.”
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. But instead of backing down, she lifted her chin, defiance burning in her chest. “I never asked for your validation. I just wanted to understand why you go out of your way to make me feel like I don’t belong.”
Fernando’s jaw tightened. For a split second, it seemed like he wanted to say something else, something real, but then he simply turned away, shaking his head.
“Get used to it, Bianchi,” he muttered before walking past her, leaving her standing alone with nothing but the sinking feeling in her chest.
As Y/N watched him walk away, frustration and confusion swirled within her. Whatever was going on between them—whatever tension was brewing beneath the surface—it wasn’t just in her head. But as much as she hated to admit it, Fernando Alonso was an enigma she wasn’t sure she’d ever unravel.
And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t ready to give up trying.
she tried yet another time.
“Do you have a problem with me?” Y/N stormed into the hospitality suite after another cold interaction.
Fernando didn’t look up from his cup of coffee. His jaw clenched, fingers tightening around the mug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She stepped closer, her voice cracking slightly. “Every time we’re in the same room, you act like I’m a ghost. Is it because of my father?”
At that, his head snapped up, eyes flashing. “Don’t bring him into this.”
“Why not? That’s what it is, right? You think I’m just trying to ride his coattails?” She was shaking now, all the pent-up emotions spilling out. “I’m not him, Fernando. I never will be. But I’m here because I’m good at this—because I deserve it. I’ve done everything I can to prove myself, to you—”
“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” he cut her off sharply, his voice low but dangerous. “I’m not your judge.”
“Then why do you treat me like I don’t exist? Like I’m nothing?”
There was silence. Fernando’s eyes darkened, the usual stoicism replaced with something… deeper. Anger? Pain?
“You don’t understand,” he finally muttered, standing abruptly and walking towards the door.
Y/N’s heart pounded. “Then help me understand.”
But he left without another word, leaving her standing alone, her heart heavier than ever.
time skip
Weeks passed, and the tension between them only grew. Y/N found herself dominating during races, yet her mind constantly swirling with thoughts of him. Every shared glance felt like a knife to her chest, but she couldn’t stop the feelings that had taken root deep inside.
Then, in one race, disaster struck. Y/N crashed. It wasn’t her fault, a freak incident, but the world spun around her as she crawled out of the wreckage, bruised and shaken. She couldn’t escape the memories of her father’s crash, the fear bubbling up.
She sat in the medical room, waiting for clearance, when Fernando stormed in.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he spat, eyes blazing with an intensity she’d never seen.
Y/N looked up, tears already welling in her eyes. “I didn’t—”
“You could have gotten yourself killed!” His voice broke, and that’s when she realized—he wasn’t just angry. He was scared.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, unsure if she was trying to convince herself or him.
“No, you’re not.” His hand came up to grip the back of his neck, the strain clear in his posture. “You’re reckless, Y/N. Just like him.”
The mention of her father felt like a slap. “Don’t you dare—”
“You think I’m pushing you away because I hate you?” He stepped closer, voice shaking. “It’s the opposite. I care too much.”
Her breath caught. “What?”
“You… you’re everywhere,” he continued, pacing now. “Every time I see you on the track, I think about how easily things can go wrong. About losing you. And I can’t—” He stopped, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I can’t lose you the way I lost him.”
Y/N’s heart raced, disbelief washing over her. “But… you’ve been so distant. You acted like you didn’t care at all.”
He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “That’s because I’m a coward, Y/N. I thought if I kept you at a distance, I wouldn’t have to feel… this.”
She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “Feel what?”
Fernando took a deep breath, his hands dropping to his sides in defeat. “I’ve been falling for you since the day you arrived, but I was too damn scared to admit it.”
Y/N blinked, frozen in place. “You… you’re in love with me?”
“I didn’t want to be,” he admitted, his voice soft now, almost broken. “But I am. And every time you’re out there, I’m terrified.”
She stepped closer to him, her heart aching for the man in front of her. “You never had to push me away, Fernando. I’ve been in love with you for months.”
He looked at her, something shifting in his expression—like he’d finally allowed himself to feel everything he’d been holding back. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because it seemed like you hated me.”
He laughed, the sound bitter. “I could never hate you, Y/N.”
Without thinking, she closed the distance between them, her hand finding his. “Then don’t push me away anymore. Let me in.”
Fernando hesitated, but then, with a sigh of surrender, he pulled her into his arms, holding her like she might disappear if he let go. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair. “I’m so damn sorry.”
She buried her face in his chest, tears of relief spilling down her cheeks. “You’re forgiven.”
time skip
From that day on, everything changed. The tension between them melted into something warmer, something real. Fernando was no longer the distant figure she’d admired from afar; he was hers, fully and completely.
They spent their days sneaking moments together in the paddock, quiet confessions whispered in between practice sessions. He would steal kisses when no one was looking, his usual stern demeanor softening only for her.
“You’re impossible,” she teased one evening as they sat on the balcony of their hotel room, watching the sun dip below the horizon.
“And yet, you love me,” he smirked, pulling her closer.
Y/N smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I do.”
Fernando’s arm tightened around her, his voice low but full of emotion. “You fell for me, Y/N. But I fell harder, you know?”
She chuckled. “Maybe. But I'm catching up.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, the weight of the world no longer pressing on either of them. “I’m never letting you go.”
And for the first time, Y/N believed him.
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narrators-journal · 27 days ago
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NSFW alphabet: Vash the stampede
A bit more in-depth exploration of my take on Vash. I’m not TOO happy with it, but it’ll at least flesh him out for the time being, and I can always return to this if I want to clarify some shit later. Hope you enjoy regardless!
A= Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Vash is a very good partner for aftercare. He’s always sure to dote and love on his partner after sex, and it doesn’t even have to be rough sex, he’s just always sure to check on his lovers.
B= Body part (favorite on themselves and their partners)
Vash doesn’t really like his own body. He views himself as either a monster or a failure depending on the day, so he hates himself too much for a favorite anatomical part.
Weirdly enough, Vash strikes me as someone who likes his partners eyes more than anything. They’re just so expressive and bright! Full of life!
Other than that, he’s a bit of an ass lover.
C= Cum (Anything to do with cum)
Vash doesn’t strike me as someone who likes the taste of cum, but he’d swallow if you told him to.
D= Dirty secret (Their dirty secret)
Vash seems like he’d be a top, and he can be a top if his lover demands it, but in his soul. In his core, that bitch is, and wants to be, a bottom.
He has a praise kink, even if he can’t take a compliment to save his life.
E= Experience (How experienced are they?)
Despite his flirtatious attitude, Vash is not very experienced at all. Between his distaste for his own body, fear of hurting others, and reputation, he doesn’t get a lot of action despite being pretty.
F= Favorite position (self explanatory)
Sad to say, but I do think Vash is a bit vanilla when given his way. He’d prefer probably missionary, maybe fuckin’ his lover against a wall if he’s feeling spicy lmao. That being said though, he’d try any position his partner wanted so long as it wouldn’t hurt you too bad.
G= Goofy (Are they more goofy or more serious in the moment?)
Vash is a very goofy, light-hearted lover. He’d crack jokes, he wouldn’t take it too seriously, and he’d just do whatever he could to curb the anxiety that comes with his reputation.
H= Hair (How well groomed are they? Do the carpets match the drapes?)
He is a bit in the middle of grooming levels. He doesn’t bother too much with shaving (or really washing tbh) but he keeps it in check at least. Same with his hygiene
It’s not like he’s a garbage pile, but he’s definitely bushy.
I= Intimacy (how are they in the moment? Romantically)
Vash is a veryromantic man. He’d take his time, he’d lavish you in attention, and he’d be an utter gooball if you let him during sex. Or in general, honestly
J= Jack off (masturbation habits)
Vash barely, if ever, masturbates, honestly. He’s pretty low on the sexual need scale, so the urge doesn’t hit too often.
K= Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Praise kink is probably the easiest one to pinpoint, but he also has a bit of a degredation kink, maybe a lil masochism
He might also have a breeding kink. Just a lil.
Maybe a tiny, itty bitty part of him also might get off on how feared he is. He’s the big bad humanoid typhoon, oooo fear him lol.
L= Location (favorite place to do it)
Vash is not picky at all. The desert, a car, an alley, the inns and hotels he can find, it does not matter to him.
M= Motivation (what gets them going and in the mood?)
Compotency. Compotency is probably his biggest turn on. With guns, with their job, it doesn’t matter what his partner does, so long as they’re compotent he’s into it.
Aside from that, honestly if his lover’s just. Into him, it gets him going a good number of times. Vash is not a picky man, he just has a low sex drive.
N= No (What are their turn offs)
As I’ve stated on the headcanons, Vash is pretty okay with being called a slut, but when you dip into using ‘pathetic’, ‘worthless’, and other harsh, non-sexual insults to describe him, he’s not much of a fan. Tis the horrible self image.
While Vash is a very accomodating for his lovers with a lot of fantasies, one thing he won’t play into is anything like step-brother, daddy, mommy, anything family-related.
God help you if you’re at all aware of Knives in any recognizable way, because Vash sure as fuck won’t feed into that lmao.
O= Oral (preferences on giving/getting, skill, etc)
Vash doesn’t mind either way on whether he gets or gives oral. It feels good to get, and it makes him feel good to give, so either way works for him.
If he had to pick a preference though, he’d definitely go with giving rather than getting.
P= Pace (are they fast, rough, slow etc)
Vash’s pace very much depends on his lover’s preference. When left up to him, he’s pretty medium though.
Q= Quickie (Their opinions on them, how often)
Honestly, Vash kind of prefers quickies. They give him an excuse to not strip entirely and it gives him a thrill to be so desired that you don’t care about getting caught.
R= Risk (Are they game to experiment? Take risks?)
Vash is a bit middle-of-the-road on risks, admittedly. He’s not that easy to kill or really hurt, so he’s fine with being the guinnea pig if you want to try cutting him or menacing him with a gun.
He’s a little less eager to be risky when you ask him to choke you until passing out or something.
When it comes down to the risk of being caught, he’s actually shockingly into it, so long as it’s a risk exclusive to when he’s mostly dressed.
S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go?)
Thanks to being a plant and not at all human, Vash has a wonderful stamina! He can run through the desert for an entire day, and he can go multiple, multiple rounds in bed.
T= Toys (Do they have them? Do they use toys on themselves or partners?)
Vash loves to use toys on his partner. Especially if it saves him having to expose his scars and whatever he deems ‘ugly’ about himself.
if you let him, he'd use an array of toys on you, in some pretty creative ways.
yes, he would use a remote controlled one on you throughout the day.
U= Unfair (Do they like to tease?)
While Vash is a very playful man, and he’ll edge you if asked, he tends to not tease too much.
That being said, he’s still a bit of a tease. Whether it’s with simple flirting, or quick touches or the like.
V= Volume (How loud are they? What noises do they make? Etc)
Vash can get a bit noisy if he gets too into it, but for the most part he strikes me as p good at keeping his voice down lol.
W= Wild card (Just a random headcanon about the character)
I aint got nothing sexual, so I’ll just say. I headcanon he and Knives each have odd proficiencies, and Vash’s is his skill for accuracy with projectiles.
Like, even before he honed it to the level its at now, he’s always been weirdly good at hitting targets with thrown shit.
X= X-Ray (What’s going on underneath those clothes?)
He is at least a healthy 6-6.5 inches down there
Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Sad to say to all the vash girlies, but I don’t imagine he has a high sex drive.
I lean towards he’s likely demisexual, so I don’t entirely see him being a hoe regardless. In situations where he is one, I imagine he can go years upon years between hook ups.
He’s like a crocodile in that way lmao.
Z= Zzz (How quickly do they fall asleep after?)
Vash technically doesn’t even really need to sleep regardless of activity beforehand, so I imagine it’s a bit hit or miss with him.
Some nights he takes a few hours to sleep, others he’s out like a light, basically on command.
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hairmetal666 · 2 years ago
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cw: blood, a lot of it; this got away from me a bit 😆
Eddie comes back from the Upside Down but he's wrong.
No one notices for the first few days, except that Henderson has been quietly watching, cataloging.
Eddie's sensitive to bright sunlight, he has trouble eating, doesn't seem to use the bathroom, doesn't drink anything and never gets dehydrated. And, okay, maybe the most obvious things should be that Eddie doesn't have a beating heart and he surely isn't breathing, but he'll forgive the kid for not noticing. It's not like he does either.
And then Harrington--Fucking Harrington--gets a goddamn paper cut fighting with Robin over a day-old copy of The Hawkins Post, and Eddie fully blacks out at the sweet copper scent, the essence of Steve.
When he comes to, Hopper has him flat on his back, and Steve is all wide-Bambi-eye startled.
"Well, that clarifies a few things," Dustin says. He's sitting at a barstool in the Harrington kitchen, kicking his little feet like he didn't almost watch one of his surrogate parents eat the other one.
Eddie doesn't hate being a vampire. It's actually pretty fucking cool. Vampires, Eddie thinks, are hot. And like, sure the craving to drink his friends sort of sucks, but Hopper hooks him up with donated blood bags, and mostly he can deal.
But there's something about Steve. There's always something about Steve.
Honestly, Eddie should've known. He's had a stupid, pathetic crush on Steve for years. It was bad bad, like hopelessly infatuated with King-fucking-Steve, bad.
So, Eddie comes back and he comes back wrong and god help him, but he can't stop staring at Steve's jugular, at the faint beat of his pulse in his throat. He's always been unable to look away from Steve, only now Eddie has fangs and the longer he looks at the sweeping lines of his friend's neck, the more they extend from his gums.
Like, maybe Eddie could cope with his unrelenting desire to taste, consume, own Steve, but his senses are changing. He doesn't tell anyone. Doesn't explain how he knows when Steve's had a bad day at work, when he's brimming with happiness after playing with Robin, when memories of the Upside Down plague him.
He doesn't tell anyone the first time he realizes that he can sense Steve roughly five minutes before the man walks in the door.
It's not a big deal. Just like it's not a big deal the way Eddie wants to be next to him always, share his space, his body, his blood, everything.
He could have gone on not acknowledging it forever, basically, until the day Steve's five minutes from home and Eddie's sense are bombarded with blood pain rage. Steve smells like an electrical storm, and Eddie can't stop to think.
He runs out to the driveway--huh, apparently he does have vampire speed--nearly ripping Steve's car door off its hinges to get to the man inside. The man with the busted up mouth, actively dripping with blood; the man with the oozing cut on his forehead and the rapidly blackening and swelling eye.
There are thousands of things Eddie should do, should say, and instead he gapes down at Steve gaping up at him, the smell of all the blood hitting his tongue like a fucking hard candy.
Steve is hurt. Someone hurt him. And all Eddie can think of is licking the blood from his skin, no better than an ill behaved dog.
"Eds?" Steve slurs. He twists, to get out of the car, but Eddie doesn't--can't--move out of the way. Instead, he falls to his knees between Steve's legs, palms cupping his friend's face, looking at where it's hurt.
He gets blood on his hands, and the scent is in his nose, at the back of his throat; Steve the only thing he can see, think, feel. His fangs pop, that now familiar pressure in his gums, and there's no hiding it. They distend his top lip, force his mouth open, tips gleaming.
"Eddie," breathless this time.
It brings Eddie back, just a little bit, but Steve isn't afraid. No, under the injuries Steve's face is flushed, his pupils blown, his heart pounding. His scent is molten and sparking, something Eddie doesn't have words to describe.
"I'm sorry," Eddie says, finally. He tries to move, but Steve grabs his shoulders, holds him fast.
Steve places his blood covered thumb on Eddie's bottom lip, smearing a line of red there like lipstick.
The first taste makes him groan, his eyes roll back in his head. He's totally gone on it. It's Steve's blood on his lip, in his body. Steve's taste in his mouth. He wants more, all. Distantly he knows they should talk, that Steve is hurt, that someone caused it, but his entire being is devoted to the need to taste, possess, consume Steve Harrington.
"Inside?" Steve whines. Eddie is eons away from being able to say no.
He scoops Steve up, does his new vampire zoom thing, and they're in the foyer, the front door slammed behind them. He presses Steve to the wall, lapping up the blood on his face.
"Eddie, please, please," Steve begs. It's so pretty and perfect.
"What do you need, beautiful boy?" He presses kisses to Steve's jaw.
Steve turns, exposing his neck, the vein Eddie couldn't stop staring at. "Bite me," he whines.
"Steve--" Eddie puts distance between them. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispers.
"Please, I want it. Need you to taste me."
And fuck if Eddie can say no to that. He runs his nose along Steve's throat, breathing in the glorious scent of him, before licking and kissing along the same path.
"Want to taste you, baby. Haven't been able to stop dreaming about it."
"I know," Steve rotates his hips, grinding himself against Eddie. "Want you to have it. Have me."
Eddie can't resist. He places another kiss to Steve's skin before sinking his fangs down. Blood floods his mouth and all he can think, all he knows is Steve Steve Steve. He tastes like movie nights, lazy breakfasts on Sunday mornings, like Eddie's favorite song.
Eddie's teeth pierce Steve's skin and he finds forever.
He pulls away, mouthing gently over the pinprick marks of the bite, cleaning away the last of the blood. Before he can move, start to regret his actions, Steve kisses him. His mouth is all busted up, his blood still lingering on Eddie's tongue, and they're fucking kissing like they need it to breathe. Bloodied spit smears on Steve's lips, around his mouth, and they kiss and kiss until it's all gone, shared between them.
"Mine," Eddie growls. Can't help it. Tears slip down his cheeks.
"Yours," Steve gasps. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair, holding him tight. "Yours always, Eds." He's crying too and Eddie can't help licking the tears away.
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justplainwhump · 1 year ago
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Waterfront
Adrian and Bea drive home after the Noor-incident.
[Pet Safety]
Content: BBU, recovery, setbacks. Short reference to (recovery) dubcon, and references to sex.
On their ride home, silence was hanging over them like a wet blanket, all-absorbing and suffocating, punctuated only by Bea slowly tapping her fingers to the passenger window as she looked outside. It was a little foggy, early in the morning, but the fog would dissolve soon and give way to a sunny day. Adrian was pretty sure that what happened between them would not dissolve that quickly.
"I asked him," Bea said to the window pane, so quietly Adrian only heard it because there was no other noise in the car.
He frowned. "What?"
"Noor," Bea clarified. "Before I went down on him. I asked him, if he wanted it."
Adrian flinched, his hands clenched around the steering wheel, gaze glued to the street in front of them. He forbid himself to render the images of what she'd just said.
Of Noor and Bea.
Of himself and Bea.
The memory made him nauseous.
"That's..." He cleared his throat. "That's... good. Consent... Consent is important."
"You didn't want it," she said.
Adrian's hands were sweaty. "Yeah," he replied stiffly.
"You didn't want both of it." The tapping of her fingers on the window pane had stopped. "You didn't consent to me fucking you, and that hurt you. Noor consented. And that hurt you, too. I... Did I.. Did I do it wrong?" Her voice trembled a little on the question.
"No," Adrian said, focusing on the road in front of him. "You did great, Bea."
He felt her gaze on him for long seconds, before she tilted her head. "You are hurt, Adrian Delgado," she insisted, voice soft with sadness. "Because of me. Again."
"It's not because of you. It's... It's complicated."
Her jaw tensed. "I'm not stupid."
"I know." Adrian exhaled sharply. "But I am."
He was. It was stupid being jealous, it was stupid falling for her, it had been stupid taking her in in the first place.
Bea glared at him. "You aren't allowed to be stupid."
"Why not?"
She paused for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line, before she shrugged and turned away.
Adrian bit back a curse.
He was stupid, but he was decent enough at reading body language.
Bea was crying.
She was doing her best not to show it, keeping her shoulders straight, her head up high, but Adrian knew it anyway.
He drove the car onto a parking lot. One of the touristy ones, right by the water front. It was near empty at this time of the morning. Someone with neon pink shorts was jogging past them, while at the far end of the lot a lady set up a coffee stand.
Apart from them, they were alone.
Adrian turned off the ignition.
"Bea?"
She shook her head.
"I'm sorry." Adrian said.
Bea pushed open the car door and walked away. She kept her shoulders straight still, moved her hips with the casually sensual sway all Romantics mastered. It didn't work as well with Converse chucks as it did in heels.
"Bea!"
He got out as well.
She didn't stop.
Adrian hissed the curses audibly now. She was too far away to hear him. Fuck. He wished Marta was here.
But she wasn't. This was his to deal with.
He pressed the lock button on his car key, and once he heard the loud click, fell into a jog past her.
"Bea!"
A man with a tiny dog and barely veiled interest in anything unusual during his morning walk passed them, not without gawking at Bea's collar and then at Adrian. "I thought one paid for them to not act like the wife."
"Fuck off," Adrian hissed, and at least the man flinched.
He picked up his dog, pressed it to his chest and brushed past them, shooing and loudly whispering, "You're the only decent sort of pet anyway, Cesar" into the dog's fur.
One shove would be all it took to send this pathetic man and his dog stumbling into the cold water.
Adrian banned the thought. Bea didn't even seem to have noticed. At least she'd stopped. She looked over the fog in the bay, arms crossed, hugging herself.
"I'm not a pet." She spoke quietly, without turning back to him. "Or, it's not all that I am. I'm a person. You taught me. I'm a person." She swallowed, and he could hear the sobs still clinging to her voice. "If you are stupid, Adrian Delgado, then how can I know this is true?"
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Pet Safety tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @gottawhump @flowersarefreetherapy @whumplr-reader @highwaywhump @tauntedoctopuses @pigeonwhumps @whumppsychology @labgrowndemon @whumpinggrounds @somewhumpyguy @whumpzone @tragedyinblue e
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arvalisintravenous · 1 month ago
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Blog entry #1, Regarding my stalker of almost 4 years.
I don't expect or necessarily want anyone to read this blog. I am creating this exclusively to document and analyse my own behaviour and the behaviour of my stalker - who, coincidentally, I have began stalking back.
It all started just about 4 years ago, when I met a man older than me by about 6 years (I hadn't yet even reached 18), incidentally, I have come to understand and realise that this man was what I would categorise as "defective", distinct in his innate inability to emotionally relate and connect with women his own age.
Do I think this man was a pedophile? No, I don't 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 think he was. I believe that quite simply he lacked maturity and was not considered attractive enough to be a worthy competitor to women his own age. That being said, while I like to believe he is not actively seeking out girls for the sole fact that they are very young, I am adamant in the theory that he was no less a 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿.
He seeks out impressionable, willing girls. Dazzled by the fact he has a car and a job - often teenagers with little life knowledge and low standards, easily susceptible to manipulation and love bombing. He is used to the power being forever in his favour, why wouldn't he be? A doting mother who is forever spoiling and idolising him, a family who continues to infantilise him - he is by definition, raised a brat. Never told no. I hated him for it.
The harsh truth was he meant nothing from the beginning. While I am ashamed to admit, during a difficult patch with my (now) ex lover, my eye had drifted and I came upon him. His distinct and interesting aura waned on one simple fact: he never showed his face in photos. He was always clad in full motorcycle gear, helmet firmly on in every. single. photograph.
Admittedly, I was curious and I imagined the face that could be hidden underneath - the uncertainty and mystery intrigued me, so I directed my attention onto him. He was reciprocal, desperate - it was evident that our interaction was organic and thrilling to him. We hadn't met on tinder, we were a chance coincidental encounter. I had sought him out after glancing at his profile on mutual friends. This made him feel special and important, I could tell.
The trouble was, my then lover was indifferent, and although I was filled with hate and anger at the months of preceding injustices, I was utterly and innately obsessed with him. During the millionth departing and breakup (which, was never really a breakup as we always reconciled days later) I gave into impulse and decided to direct my attention back to the other man. I figured I could finally find a new object of desire and infatuation, that was significantly more disposable, to dampen my unbearable attachment to my lover.
In layman terms, I was intending to entertain myself with this man until I no longer cared so deeply for my lover, thus being able to discard him and, shortly after, his replacement. But of course my plan went wrong.
I met the man and upon seeing his face I was slightly disappointed, I had envisioned various faces he could wear, but the one he came with was not what I had expected or wanted. I did not find him as attractive as my lover, but I persisted, as although he was comparatively pathetic, he was evidently keen and it stroked my ego.
During the few days we got acquainted, I did not kiss or engage sexually with my companion. I addressed him by pet names of affection and lightly twirled his curls, saw his face crumple and melt in mock adoration and I made him feel like he was the centre of my universe.
I was not stupid, I was aware he too was playing a game. Mimicking intense love and attempting to lovebomb me, while unintentionally being the victim himself. Eventually, my lover and I reconciled, and I coldly withdrew from the man, deceitfully clarifying my intent of exclusively friendship which he obliged with hope I would change my mind.
Everytime my lover and I would break up, I would redirect all my attention and adoration onto him, each time he fell further and further. My lover and I eventually departed ways for good and I decided in a desperate attempt to distract myself from the heartbreak by finally investing in a non committal relationship with my companion.
This did not go well, as I eventually discovered he had undesirable and repulsive interests that did not align with my own sexual proclivities. To specify, he liked feet. After an evening of discussing his interest, he lamented a little too much of an ex who never cleaned her feet or changed her socks and how repulsive this notion was to him - his feigned disgust gave him away, it was obvious his fetish entailed more than he was comfortable divulging. This man began to revolt me.
Despite the drugs and constant indulgence of vices, food and drink he became more insufferable by the day, and by the time my interest had almost entirely dwindled a convenient (and abhorrent) secret had revealed itself. A girl had come forward to detail how he had (very recently might I add) travelled over 100 miles to see her for sex, the disgraceful thing? She had only recently turned of age during the interaction, revealing that he had intentionally groomed her for this very purpose.
I was disgusted and thrilled - disgusted that he had crawled as close to the line of being a pedophile as he legally could... and thrilled that I finally had a reason to detach. He took it poorly, insisting he was going to commit suicide shortly before disappearing. My solution was to block him and call the local authorities, leaving them to deal with him. What little empathy I possessed for him initially was snuffed out after my discovery of his barely legal pal.
He was found a mere days later, sleeping in his car. A concept that made me positively cringe at his pathetic descent into obscurity. Shortly after I began to officially allow myself to grieve the loss of my tumultuous original lover, coming to terms with his inadequacies and infidelity, which I came to understand I had reciprocated.
This concludes the initial introduction and swift departure of the man that started it all.
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sayhelloanimalfriends · 1 year ago
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a pep talk isn’t about solving anything. it contains no advice. it is not about finding a solution. a pep talk is reminding a person that they are capable of solving their own problems.
this starts with validating that the struggles they face are indeed challenging. this communicates that you understand the gravity of what they are going through without claiming to know what they are feeling. if you usually use humor in hard situations, hold off on that for now. this is the moment for genuine sincerity.
“this situation is really shit”
“this is unfair to you”
“this sounds like a hugely difficult task.”
“i’m sorry” - (this one seems like it wouldn’t make anyone feel better it seems like such hollow words but it works every time for me! just hearing that makes me feel like the person cares. idk why!)
now validate their efforts and maybe restate the situation in your own words to show you listened and understand the situation.
“you’re trying your damndest at this job and they just keep fucking you over.”
“you’re practicing every day, devoting so much time to get better snd you’re hit with this injury. that sounds frustrating.”
“you’ve been trying to train your cat to hiss at your friend’s boyfriend for months now and Pipu still refuses to do it even once!”
at this point, they may interject to correct you or clarify or just talk about their situation. never ever ever grandstand during a pep talk. this isn’t about you. a pep talk isn’t something you do so that you can feel good about yourself. this is about the person you’re talking to. if they interrupt you, they have the floor. if you aren’t comfortable with that then just shut up entirely. you don’t have to give anyone a pep talk, and if you can’t handle putting other’s needs truly before your own then you’ll just make things worse anyway.
now, next is the part where you tell the hero er— your friend that they have the tools to accomplish their goals. you gotta take what you see in them and build them up with it. Now, a note about this: don’t lie to them. Don’t tell them that they’re smart if they’re stupid. Don’t tell them that they’re resourceful if they’re short-sighted. don’t tell them they’re the best singer you’ve ever heard if they can’t hold a tune in a bucket. we want the truth. Here you can be funny to lighten the mood.
“But you know what man? I’ve never met anyone who can get hit by a car as hard as you can.”
“Be that as it may, you’re still a goddamn good photographer, and people with way less talent than you have worked weddings”
“And while this must be hard for you, I know you can figure out how to solve this. You’re one of the most persistently annoying people i know.”
ideas of traits to name
• you’re a grown-ass adult
• responsible
• resilient
• capable
• look how much you’ve accomplished so far
• look at what you can do when you try
• i’ve seen you succeed before even when it was hard
• if they can do it you can too
• if you keep trying this will without any doubt at all get easier
• you don’t have to do this but you want it so bad and that alone can carry you through this difficult moment
Now you tell them the emotional bit. You tell them that you believe in them. That you know they can succeed. That you’re here to help them.
Reiterating here: don’t lie to people. This isn’t about you. If someone is struggling and you don’t think they can do something, do not give them a pep talk. This is something you do for someone you genuinely care about. Don’t do this for your own feelings of altruism. That is so nasty and pathetic and people who do that are narcissists. you’re not a narcissist are you? then don’t do that.
finally: you tell them that everything is going to be alright. And that they’re going to reach their goals. and that they can make this happen if this is what they really want.
this is another one of those things where it sounds so trite but man. sometimes people just need to hear it.
final notes:
• again: don’t bullshit people
• if the person doesn’t seem like they want a pep talk just shut the fuck up sometimes people just want to be left alone this isn’t about you
• do not ramble. do not go on and on. keep it fuckING snappy. validate their struggle. validate their efforts. remind them they’ve got what it takes (cite examples). tell them you believe in them. everything is gonna be fine. done. you get in, you do your pep talk, you’re done. if they interrupt you a lot LET THEM in fact if they’re interrupting a LOT they may not be ready for a pep talk and once again just shut the fuck up and listen.
• if this starts to feel like too much work then just stop! don’t get frustrated omg. if you are getting frustrated you’re just gonna cause problems abort abort abort. this should be easy breezy. if they feel better great if they don’t whatever. you tried.
thanks for coming to my pep talk ted talk now get the hell out of my house
i give such good pep talks i think
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ziorre · 3 years ago
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A little background on how Hope ended up in “Eden’s Gate”
❗❗❗❗ the post contains NSFW art. You are warned ❗❗❗❗
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How did it all start? Well, it all started literally with a rise from the dead. But not with epic and dramatic ones, like in the movies, but with disgusting and nasty ones. The first thing Hope remembers is the realization that she can't move. Completely. Only with her eyes. The whole body is mute and completely paralyzed. The lack of understanding of what’s happening, where she is and who she is mixed up with the feeling that she's like a living corpse. The darkness of the forest. Heavy breathing. A miserable mumbling in an attempt to call for a help. Hope was able to move her arms and neck only after a few hours, and after some time she was able to sit by her own, suppressing a strong panic attack. Cold. Pain. The body is sticky. She has nothing, except a pin in her hair. Her head is empty. What to do? Where is she? Where to go?..
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So, gathered remains of strength, Hope decided to go in the direction, which the rare sound of passing cars was heard from. And yes, indeed, the track wasn't so far from her "spawn point" (I like this definition, it fits her precisely). It's been some time since Hope walked along the road, suppressing a huge desire to just hide, curl up in a ball somewhere in the bushes and die there, where no one would see her like this.. pathetic and god-forsaken. Oh, how strong was that desire.. A couple of cars passed by her, but none stopped. However, one woman on a huge truck honked after her, shouting with a strong Texas accent "hey, kid, need a ride?". The woman was an usual trucker who was heading to North Dakota, and couldn't pass by a person who definitely needed help. She didn't immediately question her, but only gave her some water, food and clothes. When the girl calmed down a little, the woman started a simple conversation about herself and her life, which smoothly turned into an attempt to figure out who the girl is and where she need to go. After clarifying the situation a little and making some assumptions, they decided that the most reasonable solution would be to drop her off at the nearest settlement with a police station there, so that the girl could ask for a help. What a relief that the nearest town was comparatively not so far away - in Hope County. Yeah, what a relief.
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Once in Hope County, our lost girl with severe amnesia went to the sheriff's office, where, frankly, officers weren’t eager to help her, referring to the assumption that she probably was just another stoned junkie. However, all the procedures necessary for her identification were carried out, photos were taken, a protocol was drawn up, documents were sent, but.. it didn't help at all. The fact is that all the information was spinning in local news(papers) - in the vicinity, within the borders of the state, but not beyond. Maybe no one responded because she's not local? 🤔
(P.S. There probably were no time for the info to disperse, since after Hope joined "EG", one man politely asked to hush up the matter, making sure that no one will be looking for her)
Anyway, while she was waiting for results, she had to stay homeless and spend the night in all sorts of abandoned places, since she was basically driven out of the police department. Lucky, it was the beginning of summer.. she couldn't have made it in winter. This hell lasted until she met a girl named Taylor, who was the one who brought her to “Eden’s Gate”.
*On the art, Hope is in the clothes that the trucker gave her.
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raggaraddy · 4 years ago
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Little Lie
Summary: You just wanted to go to a party, but Jimin is determined to make sure everyone knows you are his.
Trigger warning: Smut, yandere themes, non-con, abuse, facial.
Jimin
Yandere! Jimin Playboy! Jimin
"Jimin," you whine, both from pleasure and from frustration. You were trying to be mad at him, but right now you were struggling to remember your own name.
You had been getting ready to go to your friend's party this afternoon. It would be the first time in months you'd be going out without him because he has a family event tonight that you were not invited to. He wasn't thrilled about the idea but after much convincing, he agreed to let you go.
While you were almost ready to leave, Jimin had started pawing at you, groping you. You had dealt with this mood of his 100 times before and it was always easier and quicker just to give him what he wanted than to argue with him.
Soon, he was rocking his hips against you, pressing you hard into the kitchen table. You were moaning and moving with him. The both of you pushing the other to climax. Crying his name and clinging to him as he filled you.
As he pulls out of you you need to clamp your thighs shut. He came so much that you can feel it flowing down your thighs and onto the table in an instant. Kissing you again and again he stretches your dress lower, helping you back onto the floor. The movement further making his release drip from inside you, the top of your thighs becoming slick.
Noting your discomfort, he has a striking grin plastered on his face, looking calmed and euphoric in the afterglow while he watches you run your hands down your outfit.
"Come on, let's go.  I'll take you to see your ex-boyfriend." He suddenly says taking your hand.
"What?" you mutter, looking across his face for an explanation.
"He's going to be there, right?" he smirks.
"Ah," you stutter, searching for a response.
Of course, you knew your ex would be going, but you had decided it was best to lie just a little to avoid any conflict or trouble. Not even really a lie, just omitting certain facts. Plus, it's not like you had feelings for your ex anymore. You more than likely wouldn't even talk to him during the night. But you knew Jimin wouldn't like it and you didn't want to risk not being allowed to go tonight.
Unfortunately for you, since your friends had started getting ready early, they were already posting pictures online. Whether it was out of curiosity, boredom, or because he was checking up on you, while you were showering Jimin was scrolling through their feed when he saw your ex-boyfriend in a few of the pictures.
And as he often did, Jimin pushed rational thinking aside and assumed that you were lying to him because you had feelings for this other man.
"Let's go. I'll drop you off," he says again. Nervously you accept his hand, unable to read his mood under the bright smile he has on. Right away he starts leading you towards the front of the house.
"I'm not going to talk to him. I'm going for everyone else, not him." You try to reassure him.
"Okay," he unexpectedly shrugs it off. Sounding unbothered.
"You're not mad?" You ask tepidly receiving a shake of the head.
"Nope. I want you to have fun, Y/n." 
You can't believe how decent he is being. You were certain the night was about to be ruined for you. But here he is adverting your expectations. Letting you go off by yourself, even after everything.
Stopping at the entrance toilet, you pull from him only to have your arm snatched back and to be held in place.
"Nuh-uh." he draws you towards the front door again.
"Huh?" you tug back fighting through your confusion. Forcing a small smile to match his energy. "Jimin, I need to clean up," you explain with a small glow of embarrassment on your cheeks.
"No, you don't. You're perfect like this." he chuckles, leaning into you kissing you softly.
"But," You look up at him with a pout and furrowed brows. "there is cum running down my legs," you whisper.
"Good." His arms wrap around you tightly, his fingers digging into your skin. He kisses you again, grinning with a chuckle.
"What?" You're sure he can't be serious. There has to be some kind of misunderstanding.  "No, I'm going to get cum on my dress, and it's too short. People will see." you try again to clarify, looking up at him utterly puzzled.
"Good," he repeats.
You're flustered. You don't want to go out like this. There is no way he can mean it. It would be so embarrassing if anyone noticed.
"Stop! I know you're just trying to make me stay home." You scold.
Out of space to resist, you reluctantly let him push his tongue into your mouth. You're certain Jimin has to be angry. He is being so stubborn and crude right now. However, he is also being very affectionate and bubbly. Which is not just making you confused but also frustrated by his unreasonableness.
Breaking the kiss, he keeps peppering small ones along your jaw until his mouth comes to your ear. "No, I'm not. I'll take you there right now."
"Jimin. I'm not going there like this!" you yell, shaking your head trying to make him listen to you.
Laughing, he ignores you, only continuing to yanks you and drag you out the front door, crushing your hand and forcing you to take large steps to keep pace with him.
By the time he shoves you into the passenger side, your dress, thighs, and now his car seat are a sticky mess. You yank on the door handle as soon as it shuts, but it doesn't open. Jimin had flicked on the child lock when he pushed you in.
You're starting to panic. You have to get him to stop. He is going to humiliate you. And on top of everything you haven't even got your jacket, purse, shoes, or underwear. It's just you and your thigh-high black dress. He is really about to put you out there, in front of all of your friends, while you're exposed like this. Even if you were to rush to the bathroom right away, you'd have to get there first. Which means there is too high a risk that someone would notice.
"Jimin! Stop being a dick!" you snap as soon as he opens his door, trying to sound authoritative. "Let me out. I am not playing anymore."
He slides in beside you, slamming his door loudly, smacking his hands against the steering wheel. Remaining determined, you do your best not to let his aggressive movements intimidate you.  Honestly, you'd almost rather he hit you right now because you know he wouldn't let you go out with a black eye.
"You wanted to sneak out and see your ex, Angel. So let's go see him." the smile in his eyes goes cold. His tone becoming distant.
"Oh for the love of-" you roll your eyes. "So what? Your plan is to mark your territory by making me see him with your cum all over me? Stop being pathetic!"
"Pathetic?!" he hisses.
His eyes go dark as he lunges at you across the centre console. You jerk back, banging into the door and window to try to avoid him. But you don't have a chance. Pressing his body weight into you, he keeps you trapped in the corner by digging his forearms across your throat. You thump your palms into his side, into his face, hoping to get him off you but no amount of struggling seems to phase him.
Prying his free hand between your thighs, he forces his fingers into you roughly, pushing them deep, curling them inside you.
"Ji-" you gasp from pain as Jimin pumps a third finger inside you. "Stop, it hurts!" you scream.
"Let's see," he pauses, pulling out of you. "if any of them," he brings his wet hand up and smacks it to your cheek, rubbing and smothering his cum over all your face. "want you after this."
Finally, he lets loose your throat, dropping back into his seat with a snicker.
Frozen, panting in the corner, you're staring straight ahead in shock at what he just did. At what he just said. Tears spring to your eyes, horrified by his plan.
He can't make you go out like this.
Yanking on the handle again, trying to lower the power windows, you have no better luck than before.
He starts the car, pulling on the road. A satisfied smirk smile on his face.
You wipe at your cheeks, your lips, your forehead. But the more you try to clear, the more it spreads and drys on your skin.
You had been trying so hard to hide from your friends how badly Jimin treats you. You'd gotten questions here and there about some of the bruises you had on your arms and legs, but you'd always managed to explain them away. But after this. After he kicks you out of the car looking like some kind of abuse victim, they'll never look at you the same.
"Jimin." You cry. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry baby." you lean over the seat stroking his arm, trying to get him to lighten up. To change his mind. "Please. Please don't make me go. Please." you beg, tears pouring out of you. 
But your pleas fall on deaf ears.
"Don't worry Angel," he turns to you, once more with a dazzling smile on his face. "we're just gonna show you around for a little bit. Then I'll bring you home."
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pricklynoodle · 3 years ago
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real or not real
Itadori Yuji/Fushiguro Megumi pairing | Squid Game AU | Rated T | warning: implied character death | ANGST
( yes, writing instead of doing school lol, squid game ruined me so if you want to read this then be warned of SQUID GAME SPOILERS. There's no graphic death, but its sad as hell either way TT)
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“The player who takes all ten marbles from your partner wins.”
Megumi had always kept to himself, never saying anything unless spoken to, never stuck to groups, and never took the choice to attach himself to something. Everything had an expiration date. Unnecessary things like friendships had never appealed to him. He only needed his sister, and it wasn’t like she had the choice to have him as her brother. But the fact that she still stuck around caring for him until she worked herself to a coma.
So honestly, it’s a surprise why he feels his heart drop when the announcement tells him he has to go against … whatever 310 is to him.
He hardly knows 310, and doesn't know anything about his life actually. Other than that he’s crazy strong, has an impressive pain tolerance, but also the loudest kid he’s ever met. He's always around him, sticking to Megumi like a persistent piece of gum stuck to his shoe. But he doesn't dislike him, but he can't say he's thrilled with him either.
But would Megumi kill him?
Stupid, he tells himself.
“Oh, fuck, I honestly didn’t see that coming,” 310 says with a grimace, looking at Megumi guiltily as if he was the cause of Megumi’s inner turmoil. He sits down on one of the stone benches. The whole setup was supposed to mimic a typical neighborhood, something Megumi wasn’t fortunate enough to grow up in. The bastards even made the effort to add in the sounds of cicadas from the fake trees, as if this was a completely normal summer for a couple of teens.
Megumi doesn’t say anything, he feels dizzy. He drops down to the bench, away from 310 as possible.
“I’ve always wanted to say this,” 310 says as he rests his elbows on his knees, looking at Megumi seriously, “This whole thing reminds me of Hunger Games.”
Megumi looks at him with furrowed brows.
“You know, Jennifer Lawrence?” 310 pushes. Megumi says nothing. “...Tall girl, big ass? The one with the arrows?”
“Can you shut the fuck up,” Megumi deadpans, then he shakes his head. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He counts to ten, then glances down at his hand. 10 marbles. “Just tell me how to play this game.”
“I don’t know either,” 310 admits, sounding sheepish. He shrugs carelessly, “This is more of the games my gramps used to play, but he was too busy being sick to teach me though.”
Megumi looks up at 310. He looks tired, but nostalgic. Like he was thinking of a good memory.
310 perks up, grinning at Megumi brightly, “though they said that we can make our own rules. I’ll think of something.”
Megumi nods solemnly. The silence stretches until 310 lets out an ‘aha!’.
“Let’s bet everything and just play one around,” 310 says, even dropping his fist down onto his hand as if it were the best idea ever.
Megumi freezes, staring at 310, was he going to trick him? He doesn’t even know him. They’re not friends. Of course, everything still is a death tournament at the end of the day.
310 seems to pick up Megumi’s reluctance, he jerks his head to the side. He points towards the pair of men competing against each other, looking frantic and panicked.Their faces are sheened with sweat, t-shirts drenched in sweat. It’s… it’s a pathetic sight.
“Fine,” Megumi relents. “What are we playing?”
“Calm down,” 310 chuckles, “are you that excited to kill me?”
Megumi stays quiet.
“We have a lot of time left,” 310 says breezily, pointing towards the timer mounted on the wall. “Let’s do it at the last minute.”
“What do you suggest we do till then?” Megumi asks with a scowl. “Sit nice and pretty, twiddle our thumbs and shove these marbles up our asses?”
“Jesus, man,” 310 laughs, “no just… talk.”
“Talk,” Megumi repeats.
“Talk,” 310 smiles, looking down at his hands. Megumi looks at them too. He remembers the hard calluses on them, when they shook hands. They’re thick and sturdy, and hold a lot of power. He really could have killed Megumi before, just wrap his hands around his neck and it’s all over.
Megumi also shakes away the filthy thoughts of what else those hands could do. Get a grip, Fushiguro.
“Things we couldn’t tell other people,” 310 says, smiling wistfully. ��One of us is going to die here anyways.”
Megumi swallows the lump in his throat.
310 smiles wider. He’s always smiling, Megumi notes.
“There’s no reason to feel embarrassed if that’s the case,” 310 tells him, “I promise I won’t laugh when you blush like a tomato.”
“I don’t,” Megumi denies, but he can feel the heat already rising up to his cheeks.
“You do,” 310 says, “but I think it’s cute.”
Cute.
“So, uh, you have someone back home then?” 310 asks.
“Yeah,” Megumi says.
“...like a girlfriend or something?”
“Sister,” Megumi says quickly, “no...never a girlfriend. Impossible for me.”
“Ah, okay,” 310 says, nodding. “Just your sister?”
“I had a dad, but he … never came back.” Megumi confesses, “he was a shitty dad. He was never really home, but he gave us shelter and food. He had a bad temper, but he never hit us. He never liked to be around me especially. I … used to think he hated me.”
“What changed?” 310 asked.
“I… I became him. I understand why he did what he did,” Megumi says, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket. “Doing dirty jobs, stealing, never at home. Hiding from danger. Hiding us from danger. Protection.”
310 nodded, he slid closer to Megumi. Thighs brushing. Silence continues.
“He came here,” Megumi says, looking up at the ceiling. It’s painted a pink-orange gradient, like a sunset. “I found half of that business card in one of his jackets. The last two digits were cut off. I dialed every possible number until I got here.”
“For what?” 310 asks.
“Find him,” Megumi says, “punch him. I would have killed him, I think, if I found out that he left us to rot. Then steal all his money to pay for my sister’s medical bills.”
“Oh, she’s sick?”
“Coma,” Megumi clarifies. “Some rich bastard from work hit her on her way home. He got off easy because of money.”
“I see,” 310 says, clenching his fists. “That’s terrible.”
“Yeah,” Megumi says gruffly.
“You’re still getting money though,” 310 says. He doesn’t say but you don’t get your dad back. “What would you do with it?”
Megumi doesn’t even hesitate, “pay for my sister’s medical bills. Buy a nice house for us to live in. A car, if I can.”
“If you can?” 310 says, “where would you drive your car?”
“school,” Megumi says simply. “I would use my car to drive to school.”
310 blinks. “You know, you can do much more with that 40 billion. You really don’t want anything else? Don’t have a destination?”
“I’d go to Sendai.”
“Wh—Sendai? I’m from Sendai. Are you kidding me? Are you going to drive there with a shiny new Toyota Yaris?”
Megumi blushes furiously, “enough about me, ugh, it’s your turn anyways.”
310 shakes his head, but he’s giggling like a schoolgirl. “You really have to think bigger. Have you ever been to the beach?”
“No,” Megumi says.
“You should, one that’s got nice soft sand and blue water. With palm trees too. And you should get piña coladas.”
“What?”
“C’mon man, you don’t get to be frugal with 40 billion. I’ll teach you how to splurge once we get out—”
Ah.
“Right,” 310 breathes out, laughing to himself all silly. “Only one of us leaves.”
Megumi grunts.
Silence.
“...Ever seen a dead body?” 310 asks.
“...I’ve been answering all these questions. You haven’t answered at all,” Megumi points out, feeling far too exposed for running his mouth.
“Ah you’re right! Uh, I don’t have anyone.”
“But your grandfather—”
“He’s dead. For a while now. My mom and dad. Also dead. My brother is on the run. He’s, uh, killed a lot of people. He got the death penalty, so yeah, haven’t really seen him around.”
Megumi looks at him.
“I don’t think he counts,” 310 says, scratching his face. Megumi realizes the scars on his face aren’t from the previous games. They looked healed, puckered and faded from time.“He looks a lot like me, though. A lot of people can’t tell us apart. He hated that. He’s only a bit taller than me, and he loves to brag about it. He has a huge ego.”
“I see.”
“Yeah,” 310 says, but he doesn’t look awkward about it. Just mildly inconvenienced. “Oh, have we really been talking for that long?”
Megumi looks at the time. They have less than 2 minutes.
310 stands up, swiping the dirt off his pants. He pats around for his marbles. “Okay, so you see that wall over there?”
Megumi nods mutely. It’s quite far, maybe around 2 meters.
“Okay, we throw one marble, and the one closest to the wall wins, okay?”
“Okay.” Megumi nods, easy enough.
“Okay, you go first.”
Megumi scowls.
“added rule, we do it together,” he says, jaw clenched.
“Eh?” 310 looks at him, confused.
“I’ve been doing things first, so it seems rather fair if we do it at the same time, with our best effort, okay? I have the blue marble, you get the red one.”
“... okay.”
“Don’t give me a weak ass toss, alright, that doesn’t count,” Megumi says gruffly, narrowing his eyes at him. “Do your best.”
310 nods, giving him a thumbs up. “Okay!”
“On three,” Megumi says.
“Okay!”
“Three.”
“Two,” 310 continues, positioning his arm.
“One,” Megumi does the same.
They both throw their marbles. Megumi’s heart leaps out of its chest as he watches his marble in the air.
Clack!
Clack!
Clack!
Megumi looks down on the marble that lands right next to his shoe.
It’s red.
“Ahh, shoot, I threw it too hard,” 310 says with a pout.
Megumi sees red.
He shoves 310 against the wall. “Are you fucking with me?”
“Whoa! No, you won f-fair and square, man,” 310 stutters. “I did my best shot, like you said!”
“Any idiot would know that shit would bounce right back if you threw it like that!”
310 laughs, “I must be some one of a kind idiot, then.”
Megumi shoves him further into the wall. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“You can’t kill me if I’m gonna be dead anyways.”
“THEN I’LL KILL YOU IF YOU DIE.”
“See, that doesn’t really make sense—”
“Shut the fuck up! Why did you do that?!”
310 slumps against the wall, body lax. Not looking at him.
“Answer me!”
“You… you have a lot more to live for than me,” 310 says quietly. He looks up at Megumi, tears in his eyes, “what kind of asshole would I be to deny you for a life?”
“You have a life!” Megumi snaps.
“I don’t, not anymore,” 310 sobs, a wobbly smile on his face. “Before my grandfather died, he told me that I should help others. That when it was my time to go, I would die surrounded by others and not end up like him.
“I should use my strength to help others, that’s what I’ve been doing here. Out there, no one wants me to help them. No one wants the face of a killer to help them. No one wants me to be around them. I can’t go to places, I’ve… I’ve always hated what Sukuna did to me. Made me carry his sins, his crimes. The way people looked at me as if I was him. I can’t move forward, not like you.
“I… I never went to school either, y’know. Or I never graduated. When Sukuna became a wanted man, I became a target. I stayed in my room. The doors were locked. The curtains were always down. It was like this for years. I received no support. The only way I could get by was doing interviews with journalists, feeding the narrative. Making people hate Sukuna more, making them hate me more. That’s no way to live.”
Megumi felt the back of his eyes burn, his teeth aching from being clenched too tight.
“Even if...I had the money. I can’t erase what my brother did. I can’t erase my existence in the world. I would just keep doing the same thing everyday. I don’t… I don’t want a bigger house, not when it’s just me who lives there.”
“You and I are not so different,” he says, looking up at Megumi.. “I think that’s why… I want you to win. You get to experience all these normal things, and feel… happy. You have a chance.”
Megumi wipes his eyes harshly, “Shit.”
“That’s true.”
“... What’s your name?” Megumi asks.
“Itadori Yuji,” 310—no, Yuji says. “My name is Itadori Yuji.”
Megumi takes a shaky breath, he raises his hand for him. “Fushiguro Megumi.”
Yuji grins, he clasps his hand onto Megumi’s. “That means blessing, right?”
“I don’t fucking know.”
“I’m glad then, Megumi. That I’m friends with you even through this hell. That itself is a blessing in a disguise.”
“Shut up,” Megumi punches his shoulder.
A guard suddenly arrives, carrying a gun in his hand. Waiting.
Yuji looks behind Megumi’s head. “Ah, I wish we had more time.”
Megumi bites his lip. “I wish I’d… met you sooner. I don't know anything about you.”
Yuji jaw drops, “Okay, I’ll … summarize this in ten seconds! I’m twenty-years-old, my favorite color is green, my favorite manga is Bleach, my type is tall people with big butts! Uhh, I really like watching action films—”
“Not … whatever, nevermind,” Megumi says softly as he listens to Yuji ramble on about himself.
Yuji pauses from his ramble looking winded, “uhm, Fushiguro, can I hug you?”
Megumi freezes.
“I just haven’t had a hug in a long time—” Yuji trails off before he gets cut off with Fushiguro hugging him desperately, clinging to him.
“Idiot, idiot, idiot!”
“...Hey, Fushiguro Megumi, live a long life, okay?”
Megumi lets go.
He turns around.
Eyes burning as he stares unblinking down the path. Footsteps. Silence. Breathing. He feels something salty on his lips when he licks them. It's not sweat.
He... he got attached. He stares forward, he doesn't regret it. Not at all. He got to know Yuji Itadori, the real him, and the pain in his heart is the best he can give back. A reminder that he was more than what people saw him. Yuji Itadori didn't deserve what the world gave him, they did not deserve his cries. The fact that... no one would shed a tear for him.
...Ah.
Megumi notices the dark wet spots on the dirt.
“Thanks for playing with me.”
94 notes · View notes
arrowflier · 3 years ago
Note
Prompt: Ian goes to Ned's funeral and runs into Jimmy-Steve.
Jimmy was tired.  He had taken two red-eye flights to get here, shelled out more money than was reasonable to do it (including paying off a few of his current...coworkers), and spent the last hour trying to corral his drunk mother without letting on to their guests that she didn't care one whit about her estranged husband's demise.
And when he finally got a break, a single moment of peace in which to breathe and sneak a hit off the flask in his coat pocket, it just had to be interrupted by a late, and unwelcome, arrival.
Ian Gallagher.
In the flesh but out of his element, Ian lingered by the door as it slipped shut again behind him.  He rubbed a hand up his opposite arm, muscles flexing and easing rhythmically as his eyes darted around the room.
Jimmy cursed, and recapped his flask. Then he stormed over, grabbed Ian by the shoulder, and tried to steer him safely into an unoccupied corner.
Except that Ian was a lot more solid than the last time Jimmy had seen him, and only swayed gently on his feet.
Green eyes focused on him with alarming intensity.
"Jimmy-Steve," Ian acknowledged, lips pursed.  Then he snapped his fingers, faking a thoughtful look.
"Oh, wait, it's Jack now isn't it?"
Jimmy grimaced.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed up into Ian's face--and wasn't that a change, Ian being taller than him.
Ian raised his eyebrows, and shook Jimmy's lingering hand off his shoulder.
"Seeing off an old friend."
No.  That wasn't right.
"You weren't friends, Ian," Jimmy said.  "You were my dad's underage fuckbuddy.  And if my mom sees you here..."
Oh God, she couldn't.  None of them would survive that.
"Relax," Ian said, taking a step back.  "She won't."
He looked determined.  Jimmy sighed, and rubbed a hand over his eyes.
"Fine," he relented, reluctantly.  "Just don't make a scene, alright?"
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"And don't let Mickey, either."
Ian looked surprised.
"Yeah, I heard about you two getting married," Jimmy admitted.  "Congratulations and all, but I really don't need a Milkovich showing up at my dad's funeral."
"You could have sent a card," Ian said dryly, and Jimmy scoffed.
"And address it to who?" he asked.  "My ex-girlfriend's ex-con little brother?"  He paused, shook his head.  "I'm walking the straight and narrow now," he lied, "can't get caught up in that kind of shit."
Ian snorted.
"I'll believe it when I see it," he muttered, and Jimmy scowled.
"Like you're any better," he challenged.  "Surprised your worse half isn't in here already, stealing all our shit again."
"Please," Ian said, rolling his eyes.  "As if he would bother."  He gestured over his shoulder, to the still-closed door.  "He's still out there trying to park."
"Yeah?" Jimmy asked.  "What crazy kind of stolen car won't he trust the valet with?"
Ian smiled, sharp and toothy. 
"An ambulance," he answered shortly, then "lucky, since I think we might be needing one soon if you keep hassling me."
Well. When he put it that way.
Jimmy glanced around the room, saw his mother safely occupied by a handful of opportunistic widowers, and stepped back with a flourish to allow Ian passage up the aisle. Ian took it, eying him curiously, and made his way to the open casket.
Jimmy couldn't help but watch as Ian looked down on his father. His father had seen something in that boy, once. Something Jimmy hadn't understood. Naivety, perhaps. A need and a willingness to please. A boy that sought attention in a way that he could provide, for once.
Whatever it was he had seen, whatever it was he had taken advantage of, it wasn't there now. Ian Gallagher had grown into a man when no one was looking, a strong one with thick muscles, a solid back, and a determined posture that kept anyone else from approaching the coffin until he was done.
Anyone but one.
A heavy hand landed on Jimmy's shoulder as he watched Ian watch his father, abd then Mickey Milkovich, all grown up, was striding down the aisle with purpose.
Jimmy wasn't sure what he expected to see when Mickey reached the front. Anger, maybe, at Ian, or at Lloyd. Discomfort, at least, at having to stand by his partner's side in the presence of an old flame, dead or not.
Mickey showed none of that.
He stood silently by Ian, by his husband. Took his hand in one of his own, thumb sweeping across the back in gentle circles. Leaned his head on Ian's shoulder, and stayed there, and waited.
Ian moved first.
"Let's go," Jimmy heard him say, and he should have been relieved. But relief wasn't what he felt when the two turned around as one, walking back toward him. He looked at them, two boys that grew up nothing and seemed to have found everything, and felt something else instead.
"Hey," he stopped them, and swallowed hard at the looks they offered. "How is she?"
Ian didn't have to ask him to clarify.
"Good," he answered shortly, his hand tightening on Mickey's. "And not here."
"Yeah, I know," Jimmy acknowledged. "Heard about that too."
He hesitated, a moment too long, and Ian started to move again.
"Have you heard from her, though?" Jimmy blurted out, and this time, Ian didn't even turn to face him.
"None of your business," he stated, cold.
Jimmy winced.
"I know that too."
"Then don't fucking ask."
And he was gone.
Mickey, though, stayed behind.
"You're fucking pathetic, you know that?" he asked.
Jimmy didn't deign to answer.
Mickey thumbed his nose, and softened.
"You love her?" he followed up gruffly, and Jimmy shrugged.
"I think so," he answered honestly. "I mean, I think...maybe."
Mickey shook his head.
"That's not good enough." He sounded firm. "Don't try to look her up unless you're sure, or I'll let Ian go little brother on your ass."
Jimmy frowned.
" You mean big brother?"
"No," Mickey answered with a smirk. "Us little brothers are the real nasty ones."
Then he was moving, walking hurriedly to the door.
"Yo Ian, wait up!" he called out as he went. "I still have the fucking keys!"
The door slammed behind them a moment later. Jimmy thought about what Mickey said, about what he felt. Considered what to do.
Then his mother's voice came from behind him, snapping him back to the present.
"Jimmy, dear," she warbled, was that one of your father's whores?"
Jimmy closed his eyes, and sighed.
So much for not making a scene.
126 notes · View notes
urimaginespimp · 4 years ago
Text
Happiness (This Love pt 7)
Bucky x Reader (elemental witch)
Set during TFATWS (mostly ep 3)
Note: Angsty confrontation ahead, and some references to Mr. Perfectly Fine because its a bop.
previous part
——–
Bucky and Sam were trying to hide it, but they were fascinated with the amount of collectable expensive cars surrounding them, which Zemo claimed to be his.
“I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can recreate an army of people… like the Avengers.” He stated, peeking out from the car where he was slouched down taking stuff, he needs for a trip.
“I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished. To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”
“Well, join a party. We’ve already started.”
“First stop is a woman named Selby.” Zemo stated, now walking out with his stuff, before pausing to face the two men’s way again.
“But before that, it would be way safer for us if you get one of your old teammates with us. Preferably the witch.” He explained.
“We haven’t been able to reach Wanda for some time now.” Sam admitted.
“That’s unfortunate to hear, but I meant the one James was so enamored with.” Zemo clarified nonchalantly.
Sam’s lips twitched, trying not to crack a smile as Bucky glared at Zemo.
“We haven’t been in contact with her too.” Bucky answered in a low voice. He was getting irritated at the fact that Zemo even suggested to bring you into this.
“Actually, I have.” Sam spoke up. “But new Asgard is not a drive away.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Zemo grinned as he led them out to his private jet.
The entire way over to New Asgard, Bucky was quiet. He hadn’t told anyone, even his therapist, but the look in your eyes when he outright rejected you back in Tony’s Lake house was the last thing he sees every night before he falls asleep.  The same set of eyes that would’ve loved him for a lifetime.
Would you even be glad to see him? He couldn’t help but feel anxious.
——–
It was already dawn when they arrived at New Asgard. Val greeted them having received a message from Sam as well after Y/N was unresponsive.
“Well, you, I expected.” she nodded at Sam. “Can’t say I’m pleased to see you, Mr. Change of Heart.” She looked at Bucky as if assessing him fully and Sam snorted at what she just called him. “And you I’m unsure of because I’ve never seen you before.” She nodded at Zemo.
“Val, it’s really great to see you, and holy smokes, Asgard looks rich as hell.” Sam was temporarily sidetracked. From what he last heard, New Asgard was a fishing port.
“This isn’t even half of how the old Asgard really was, but this is all actually because of Y/N’s effort.” She answered proudly.
“Where is she, anyway?” Sam asked. Bucky and Zemo simply assumed you were still sleeping given the time. But the light-almost silent steps on the pavement approaching behind them made all three men look behind.
Bucky felt his throat drying up when he saw that it was your form walking towards them. Here you were, lips red, hair even longer, in a small black strap dress, holding your heels on one hand, as you walked home. Your attention was set on your feet, as if they were the most fascinating thing you’ve seen, as they walk bare along the pavement. And he couldn’t help but note that there was a strong energy around you.
“Dude, stop staring. You’re gonna embarrass yourself.” Sam whispered at his side.
His low voice caught your attention, making your head snap to finally look up and slowdown from walking.
Sam was already smiling at you, undoubtedly glad to finally see you again, and you returned the grin. Then beside him, stood the man you’ve been trying to get over all these months.
His hair was shorter, reminding you of the James you’ve met when testing the time portal. Only difference is that while James was eager to talk and see you, this one in front of you wasn’t even looking up.
Looking at the third man with them, you stopped in your tracks.
“Sam, what the hell is this man doing out of prison, and on Asgardian property?” That was the first thing to come out of your mouth. Sam lightly hit Bucky on the arm to explain.
“We need him to help us find this group of super soldiers.” Bucky answered, finally looking up to meet your eyes. Turning your attention to him, he was surprised you didn’t even offer a small smile.
“Wakanda will get word of this, Barnes.” you told him, not breaking eye contact. You were mad. Wakanda owed him nothing yet they took him in and helped him. Now he was saying they not only broke their king’s killer out of prison, but is also working with him.
Behind the three men facing you, Val was standing with her arms crossed on her chest, close to losing it. She mouthed Barnes at you.
You sighed and walked up to Sam, exchanging a hug, a silent conversation of how much you’ve missed each other. Breaking away from him, you started walking past them, ready to get it over with and head to your house.
“What do you want? As you can see, I just got back and I’m in need of rest.” you asked, still walking.
“Look, you can go back to your parties right after, but we really need you for this. Please.” Bucky spoke up once again. Of course, he’d think you were merely partying your way through nights. But you were just too tired, and frankly, you didn’t feel the need to prove anything to him.
Turning to face them again, you were ready to turn them down but Sam was looking at you with the same pleading expression. How could you turn down someone who’s been nothing but nice to you? And you do feel guilty for not checking up on him as frequently as before.
Sighing, you faced Val and gave her a small nod, indicating to her that you were going. She raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“Fine. Just let me get ready.” heading into your home, you took a deep breath. You thought seeing him again would just make you feel like the pathetic, desperate woman you once were, but this time you couldn’t shake the feeling of hostility creeping up your chest every time you met his eyes.
So maybe you do kind of hate him now.
——–
You were across Zemo, catching up on the sleep you’ve missed on his private jet.
Bucky was seated just across from your left, and he couldn’t help but look at your sleeping form. You looked at peace, and it reminded him of the nights you both had in Wakanda where he’d ask you to stay with him after a nightmare, and the rare times when you’d fall back asleep first.
Then something he picked up from the conversation earlier started to cloud his thoughts. You had kept calling him Barnes. He had never heard you call him that until earlier. It sounded so… strange coming from you. It almost made him hate his own last name.
“You know, I’ve always found her of impeccable beauty.” Zemo spoke in a quiet voice to not disrupt your sleep. Bucky clenched his fist while Sam raised a brow at him. “Now, I never said I’m attracted to her. My heart is forever for my family, but I’m not blind.” he clarified, and noted the former winter soldier’s reaction.
“James, judging from your reactions every time I talk about her, I’m guessing you’re very fond of her.” He took a sip of his drink, waiting for a response – one Sam gladly provided.
“Oh yeah, if kissing her, then pushing her away and leaving her after a funeral is what you’d consider being very found, then by all means, Bucky’s crazy for her.” Sam glared at Bucky, making him uncomfortably shift in his seat.
“Now why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?” Sam shifted the conversation.
“I’m sorry. I was just fascinated by this…” He opened a book on his lap. “I don’t know what to call it, but I see Y/N’s name in here, and oh this part seems important… who is Nakajima?” and before Sam knew it, Bucky was up on his seat, with his metal arm on Zemo’s throat.
The act made you stir on your sleep, and sure enough, your eyes fluttered open, only to see Bucky threatening Zemo.
“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” He said in a low voice.
“What the hell is happening?” you broke the silence, making everyone turn to you. Bucky finally let him go, and returned to his seat, not looking at you. He felt almost ashamed that you had to see him act that way. He could only hope you hadn’t heard Zemo say your name was on that notebook.
“I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” Zemo stated, but then unexpectedly turned his attention to you. “I just can’t seem to understand why her-”
“Don’t push it.” Bucky cut him off.
“Miss Y/N. If you don’t mind me asking. How did the avengers manage to bring everyone back? We hardly get enough news in prison.” Zemo asked you with genuine interest.
“The simplest answer is through a time machine.”  you nodded at him.
“Well that I know, but how did you know it would work?”
“We had volunteers to test it out. As a matter of fact, I was one.” Sam and Bucky were now looking at you in interest. They didn’t know about this part. “The first one was Clint, and he only had a few minutes to a timeline of his choosing. When that was successful, it was my turn to go and stay a little longer to make sure we wouldn’t experience any complications if we do so.”
“Where did you go?” Bucky found himself asking, and you turned your attention to him.
“I…” you couldn’t tell them you actually went to his time as a soldier in the camp. “I don’t want to talk about it.” you shut the conversation down and excused yourself to the restroom, leaving them confused.
Opening the door slowly to get out, you paused when you overhear Bucky saying something. “I uh… I went on a date for the first time.” he told in a low voice. You decided to remain behind the slightly ajar door. You hated how it made you feel a little pang in your chest.
He was getting his life back out there while you’ve only managed to only push the hurt deep down instead of addressing and getting rid of them. Maybe once you get back home, you’d give in to Val’s pestering about online dating.
“And?” You heard Sam asked in deadpan tone. It was only followed by silence.
“How about Miss Y/N? You would’ve been perfect together.” Zemo commented.
“Shut Up.” You heard him retort.
“No, let him speak. I mean he has no idea about what happened between you, but I kinda want to hear this.” Sam interjected.
“It’s just that judging by the wandering looks you’re failing miserably to hide, and her being so… uncaring towards you, I could only assume you did something that cost whatever bond you had.” Zemo carried on.
You couldn’t listen to them any longer. You knew what he was going to say next – that he just didn’t feel the same. So you slowly shut the door close again and decided to splash a little bit of water on your face.
When you got back, they were now in entirely different conversation. “Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?” you heard Zemo ask, followed by a quick pause. “That is why we’re going to Madripoor.”
“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s skull island.” Sam asked confused.
“It’s an island nation in the Indian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” Bucky answered him.
“It’s kept it’s lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves.” Zemo explained further before looking at Bucky. “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”
You could see he was dreading having to do so. And normally you would’ve already assured him that everything was going to be fine, but this time you opted to be silent and look out the window, missing how he and Sam also turned to your attention, surprised of your seemingly lack of concern.
His heart dropped.
——–
You came in Madripoor acting as the Smiling Tiger’s most trusted henchwoman. When he had to act as the Winter Soldier and follow Zemo’s orders to attack, you had to look away, and only hope that he was fine.
You were now in Sharon’s place after she unexpectedly saved your asses while on the run.
“Here. You can use my room to get ready. There’s hot water in the shower and feel free to use anything on my vanity dresser.” She handed you a black jumpsuit similar to what she had on, only that this one didn’t have sleeves like hers.
Taking it from her, you said thank you and turned to where she pointed her room is.
“I suggest going red on the lips.” She added just before you were about to close the door.
“You’ve read my mind, Sharon.” You smirked.
——–
Sam just promised Sharon he was going to try to get her name cleared, when you stepped out of her room and into where they were, now all ready for the auction party.
“You look beautiful, Miss Y/N.” Zemo raised his glass to you.
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Why, thank you punk. Been loving the coat you got on.” Everybody looked great. Bucky was looking dignified in a well pressed suit, and it was taking everything in you to not ogle.
Bucky was gripping the couch hard. How could you converse with Zemo so freely, when you haven’t even uttered a word to him save for a few quick glances. But hew knew Zemo was far from wrong. You were breathtaking.
“Val’s told me you’ve been going out every night. You dance often?” Sam asked you.
Taking your position next to Zemo, you smiled and decided to tell them what you’ve been working on.
“Well since I’ve secured New Asgard’s future already, I’ve devoted my nights to going about the nightlife nearby. Yeah, I dance every now and then, but that’s only when I know the rest of the night will be free of any trouble.”
“What do you mean by trouble?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask.
“Any trouble, really; robberies, killings, but the most common ones are assault. So, I go out dressed just like the others to blend in, but I rarely take part in the partying.” you explained to him.  Sam gave you a smile. He was proud of you.
“Well for the rest of tonight at least, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Go dance.” Sharon smiled at you before getting up to start welcoming guests. “Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party.”
——–
The party was in full swing. You had no idea where the others have gone among the swarm of intoxicated dancing bodies in the room.
“May I get you a drink?” a man asked, appearing in front of you. He was tall, had pretty green eyes, dirty blonde hair, and a charming smile.
“You may… if I get your name first.” You smirked, which he returned.
“I’m James.”
“You’ve got be shitting me.” you found yourself whispering.
“I’m sorry?”
“Any other name I can call you, handsome?” you reached over to act like you were fixing his collar.
“How about Jay?” he smiled at you.
“Jay works just fine.” smirking, you let him lead you to the bar.
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky saw the whole ordeal. He couldn’t make sense of the feelings that kept creeping up on him, but all he knows for now is that he didn’t like what he saw one bit. And with all the smirks that’s graced your lips, he begins to realize he hadn’t seen your usual winning smile.
“Don’t break your teeth with all that clenching, Buck.” Sam was now standing beside him. “Come on, even Zemo’s dancing. What’s gotten that robot brain of yours all mad?” he pat Bucky’s shoulder.
When he was unresponsive, Sam followed the direction where he was glaring at. And sure enough, it was where you and the guy that approached you were standing close to each other, enjoying a drink and conversing.
“Okay, let me ask you something.” Sam started. “Do you, or do you not have feelings for her?”
It took him a while to answer. “I don’t know.” He finally muttered, still glaring your way. “I’m robot brain, remember?”
“Okay, fair enough… But man, you know she would’ve understood if you told her that you want to figure your feelings out first. You didn’t have to be all so casually cruel to her like that. Rhodey said she spent the 5 years during the blip mourning and waiting for you.”
The last part of what Sam just said caught Bucky’s attention.
“What did you just say?” He was caught off guard.
But before Sam could repeat himself, Sharon came with the information they need.
——-
Arriving in Riga Latvia, you got a few cuts and bruises from the fight that ensued while you joined Sharon in keeping an eye out as the guys talked to Nagel. The four of you were now walking to Zemo’s place when you spotted the first bead. You knew whom it belongs to. Glancing Bucky’s way, he was already looking at you. He must have seen it too.
“We’re gonna go on a walk.” He spoke to Sam and Zemo and nodded at you.
“You guys good?” Sam asked in concern.
“Yeah, we’ll see you guys in a bit.” You assured him. Turning away to look for other vibranium beads, it didn’t take long for Bucky to be beside you.
“It was just a matter of time, Barnes.” you said as he picked up another one placed by the corner.
Turning into an empty alley, Bucky called out into the open while holding the bead in between in thumb and index finger. “You dropped something.”
And you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you smiled at an old friend.
“I’m here for Zemo.”
——–
“He’s a means to an end.” Bucky explained. And you remained by the corner as they conversed.
“Eight hours, White Wolf. Then we come for him.” Ayo stated. Turning to you, she offered a friendly smile. “The princess misses you. She said you’re in need of some…” She glanced Bucky’s way “…comforting.”
“You’ll be expecting a visit from me soon. I’m bringing you and Okoye some Starbucks.” you promised. You’ve been in touch with Shuri through chats, and she knows all about what happened between you and Bucky.
When Ayo left to go back with the other Dora Milaje, it was only you and Bucky left in the Alley.
“Y/N we need to talk.” he said before you could even turn to head back to where Sam and Zemo were.
“Barnes.”
“Would you stop calling me that?” you could see he was irritated.
“What?”
“Quit calling me Barnes. You never called me that. It was always Bucky.” He snapped at you. “Call me Bucky.”
You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” you could hear the frustration in his voice.
“Like you’ve said that day. We can’t start fresh when we’re constantly reminded of something we’re trying to forget. Calling you that would just bring about memories and feelings I’m trying to get rid of.” you answered honestly, looking him in the eye.
Hurt flashed on his eyes from what you’ve just said, but he couldn’t blame you. “Fine. Then call me James.”
You gave him a pained smile. “That won’t do.”
“Why?”
“I actually met James.” you finally told him. Looking at his reaction, one could tell he wasn’t expecting that.
“When I said back in the plane that I volunteered to be the second test subject for the portal, Nat and Steve got me in an old war nurse’s uniform underneath the suit and sent me back to a time where you were just rescued by Steve… and you actually got me to talk to you.” This was the first time you were talking about it. You didn’t even tell Steve what happened on your time there. All he knew was that you met and spent time with Bucky.
“They suggested it because they knew how much I was hurting from losing you. And I came there with the intention to leave with closure. But I ended up promising James I was gonna wait for you.” you tried to blink the tears that was threatening to spill away.
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. He hadn’t even thought about what you had to go through after losing so many people when the blip happened. It was merely a few seconds for him.
“I don’t need your fake niceties. I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night when you had nightmares. I gave you almost two years of my time just helping you get back on your feet. I loved you, and I didn’t expect anything in return. I just wanted to let you know.” You harshly wiped a tear that escaped.
“But then you just had to fucking kiss me and for once, make me think we could be something…” you chuckled bitterly. Bucky remained quiet, just listening to you. “… only to tell me right after it was a fucking mistake and that you want to start fresh alone. How do you think that made me feel?”
“Y/N I’m sorry. Please let me make it up to you.” He started to walk towards you, and stopped when he was only one to two steps away.
“I fucking hate you, Barnes.” You found yourself saying unexpectedly, wounding him further inside. But then you shook your head. “No, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, I can’t think straight through all of my fury.”
“It’s okay. I wouldn’t blame you if you do.”
You took a deep breath, realization hitting you. “You know what, I don’t think I could make this all go away by making you a villain. I’m still hurting, yes. But I guess it’s the price I pay for being delusional for what, seven years? I could’ve stopped at one. And now I’m just trying to face reinvention.”
“I didn’t realize -” you cut him off for once.
“I heard you went out on a date for the first time. I’m proud of you.” You genuinely smiled at him. “And I realized that I want to seek happiness too.” There was a glint of relief in your eyes, maybe from finally letting it all out.
For the first time since seeing each other again, Bucky saw the old you come into the picture – soft, caring eyes, and an infectious smile with a hint of mischief behind them.
And for the very first time, the feelings that kept creeping inside him every time you were around had made themselves known.
So imagine his horror when he heard the next thing you said paired with a gentle smile.
“I’m letting you go, Bucky.”
He was in deep trouble.
——–
tags: @eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit @tanyaherondale @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul @eliwinchester-barnes
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space-helen · 4 years ago
Text
‘Split up and search’
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Words: 2524
Pairing: PLATONIC Nick x Reader x Greg 
A/N: Ok obviously I need to brush up on my proper terminology but I hope this is ok? Longest fic I’ve written in a while but I enjoyed the heck outta it
Request: Hullo could you write something with the CSI characters Nick and Greg and the reader as friends on a case. The reader gets hurt in some way and the boys try to help her out but its not easy. Thank you. - Anon
______________________
The car pulled up to the scene and the three of you jumped out. “What’ve we got here.” Nick said, clapping his hands together and looking at the fresh body on the ground. 
The three of you took a second to silently take in the scene. One body, two witnesses and a large area of the immediate crime scene taped off lit with floodlights.
“I’ll question the hikers.” Greg stated before moving over to the young witnesses stood with the attending officer.
“I’ll help David with the body.” Nick announced.
“I guess I’ll take the rest of the scene.” you grabbed your kit and got to work processing the scene. The suspect had left you some very nice footprints to process as well as other small pieces of evidence.
The body was soon on it’s way to the morgue, the police officer left to take the hikers home and Greg, Nick and yourself were left at the scene.
Standing together the three of you discussed what you’d found, filling each other in on all the details you had.
“So the suspect could have taken off in any direction.” you clarified.
“Yeah. But that makes it more fun” Greg teased flashing a smile and looking around.
You rolled your eyes “split up and search?”
You could see Nick thinking it over for a second, he knew it probably wasn’t wise to split up but he also didn’t want to be out here all night. “Ok but don’t go too far alright? We’ll wait for daylight to go further.”
You agreed with the man’s terms before switching on your torch and beginning to exit the floodlight lit area “I’ll go this way.” The other two men were soon moving off in their own separate directions.
Branches snapped and crunched under your feet as you moved away from the main area, scouting carefully for more evidence. It didn’t take long for the main scene to disappear from sight. You’d managed to pick up a couple pieces of evidence but had no clue if they would even lead to anything.
Spotting a streak of red substance on a tree you froze, snapping a picture you quickly marked the evidence and swabbed the sample before storing it away.
You looked at your watch and noticed the time, you’d been away from the main area for about 45 minutes. You knew you should probably head back soon but you’d just found compelling evidence. 
Noise in the trees made you freeze for a second. Steadying your breath you looked around and shone your torch through the trees just the breeze and darkness greeting you.
After a minute of silence you took another couple of steps forward, and grabbed your walkie talkie. What you didn’t see was the deep hole dug into the ground not that much further ahead of you as you kept your attention on the trees. 
You felt yourself falling and lurched forward to try and grab the edge of the pit but it was no use. You crashed to the floor on your leg harshly and hit the back of your head. The loud cracking as it happened was not reassuring.
You sat and tried to orientate yourself properly for a second, your head hurt but the blistering pain in your leg was worse right now. 
Groaning you looked up, your torch had fallen down with you but it was a lot dimmer than it had been, picking it up you shone it around the hole.
It was deep, much taller than you if you stood up and the night sky was pitch black above you. Putting the torch between the crook of your neck and shoulder you freed up both hands to assess your leg. Poking and prodding you quickly determined whatever it was wasn’t good but you didn’t think you’d completely broken it. On all accounts you were lucky, you could have ended up much worse from an unexpected fall like that.
You went to grab for your walkie and realised it wasn’t in the hole with you, you must have dropped it as you fell. Cursing you felt your face get warm with frustration but the cold night air soon cooled it down.
Shivering briefly you rummaged through your back pocket and found your phone, it was busted. The screen smashed from the fall, slipping it back in your pocket you took a deep breath and screamed for help. Pleading that Nick or Greg would hear you.
You screamed again. Pointing your torch upwards and flashing S.O.S. “Nick! Greg!”
You did this for a while with short breaks between. What startled you out of it was the sound of crunching.
You froze and called out softly “hello?”
A man’s head peered over the top of the hole, you certainly didn’t know him. “Who are you?” You shone your torch in his face and shuffled against the dirt wall behind you.
“You found some evidence right?” You stayed quiet. “I know you did.”
“Yeah?” your voice clearly showed your nerves.
“Yeah. I saw you taking photos.” 
Your camera was still around your neck. “I did, but the photos might be nothing.”
“Still. I’d like to take that please.”
“I can’t allow that.”
“Throw it up or I’ll start to fill in the hole.” the man held up a shovel.
You played it over in your head, you’d really like to get out of this with minimal fuss and confrontation. “Alright I’ll give it to you. Give me a second alright?”
You turned your body to face the dirt wall and pulled your leg close, balancing against the wall you quickly slipped out the SD card as you stood up the best you could. Using the wall for support but also hiding what you were doing with the camera “Alright, here.” you tossed the camera up towards the man and he caught it. 
Just as it hit his hands your walkie on the side came alive, you couldn’t quite make out what was being said but it was enough to send the man running.
You groaned and lowered yourself back to the floor. Your leg really didn’t like standing up and a dizzy spell had hit you. As you adjusted how you were sat you opened your fist and turned the memory card over in your hand, smiling at the small success you slipped it into your CSI vest pocket.
You took another deep breath, preparing your lungs to shout again. “Help! Nick? Greg? Help!”
Another five minutes passed and your throat was raw. The cool night air was properly nipping at your skin now. 
Cold and in pain a stray tear ran down your face. You weren’t sad, you knew they’d find you, there was no way they wouldn’t.
You shouted for help and shone your torch up again flashing S.O.S for what felt like another age. Defeated you stopped and let your head lull back and rest on the wall as you let your eyes rest. 
You could hear what seemed to be shouting, opening your eyes you listened harder. “Y/N!”
“Over here!” you shouted
“Y/N!” 
“Y/N”
You could hear the men taking it in turns shouting. “Help!” 
The voices got closer and you continued to shout until you could hear their feet crunching the branches faster, clearly running towards you. You shone the light out of the hole again to alert them, hoping neither of them would fall in like you.
Skidding to a halt Nick dived to the floor and was soon on his hands and knees above the hole peering over. Greg not far behind him, both panting.
“Y/N.” Nick smiled and you could see that his eyes were shiny, coated with tears of relief.
“Are you ok?” 
“No.” you admitted “I’ve hurt my leg bad and my head hurts.” out of nowhere the emotion took over and some tears began to stream down your face.
“Hey hey don’t cry.” Nick tried to comfort you “We’re here now, we’ll get you out.”
“I know. I’m not even upset.” you reassured the men giving a pathetic laugh and drying your eyes.
“Forget this?” Greg joked, he’d been scouting the area, picking up your walkie and holding it over the hole. “What happened? Fill us in.”
“I was walking and heard a noise. I used my torch to scout the trees and kept walking but… this hole came outta nowhere. I hurt my leg and here I am. The suspect was still around and threatened to bury me in if I didn’t give him my camera so I did. But I slipped out the memory card first.”
“That’s our girl.” Nick said proudly before getting serious. “Let's get you out and safe and we’ll deal with the rest later.
You nodded “sounds good to me.” the pain in your head now throbbing and chills were shaking your body.
Nick stood and Greg moved next to him “What’s the plan? Can you stand Y/N?”
“It hurts but I can for a second.”
“Alright.” Greg nodded.
“I’ll jump in, give her a boost out and you can pull her out, then you can reach in and give me a hand.” Before anyone could react to the plan Nick had slid himself down the hole and offered you his hand. Taking it you let him help you up and you instinctively hugged the man. 
“It’s alright.” the man slightly chuckled but knew how scared you probably were deep down. He looked up at Greg who had sympathetic eyes. 
Nick embraced you back, his arms comforting around you. He went to place a hand on the back of your head to make you feel safer in the embrace when a moist feeling made him pull it away quickly “Did you hit your head?”
“I think so.” You admitted. 
Greg pointed his torch directly at Nick's hand which was slightly bloodied. Nick peered at the back of your head and saw the injury.
You pulled away and saw the man's face “What?”
“You definitely hit it.” Greg’s voice came from above you.
 “Let’s get you checked out ASAP.” Nick said worried, looking up towards Greg who nodded in response, the seriousness of the situation coming back in fully.
“Is it bad?”
“It’s not nothing, let's put it that way.” Greg said hastily.
“But it doesn't look life threatening.” Nick added. “Alright get on my shoulders and let Greg pull you up.”
The man bent over and you did as instructed. Greg's warm hand grabbed your cold one and pulled you out, stumping you flopped to sit on the floor to watch as he helped Nick out. “Thank you both.”
“No problem. Don’t make a habit out of it though.” Greg teased
You smiled at Greg “I wasn’t planning on it.” the adrenaline began to wear off and tiredness washed over you.
Greg and Nick helped you up, a man on each arm as you took a could of steps, the uneven terrain making it difficult to walk. You tripped several times but the men were able to catch you.
“Y/N can we just carry you? We’re about 40 minutes from the cars and at this pace it’s going to take all night… no offence.” Greg offered, just wanting to get you checked out sooner rather than later.
“I won’t object to it but I don’t want to be a nuisance.”
“I vote carry.” Nick’s added nonchalantly, but really he was worried about you. 
“Alright I’ll go first.” Greg grinned “Piggy back or bridal style?” the man joked, trying to lighten the mood.
You rolled your eyes and laughed “Piggy back. I love you but I feel like you’d trip and drop me in bridal style.” 
The man leaned forward and let you hop onto his back, he quickly adjusted you and walked side by side with Nick as Nick shone the torch ahead. The three of you discussing your findings on the case so far. 
The warmth of Greg’s back and the cool air was a nice contrast and you couldn’t help letting your eyes slip closed for a second, just to help ease the pain.
“Y/N?” Greg repeating your name brought you out of your semi-asleep state 
“Yeah?”
“Are we really that boring?” he teased “no going to sleep” he softly jostled you.
“I’m tired.” you added, eyelids fully drooping. “I don’t know why I got enough sleep.”
“Yeah we understand, you’ve exhausted yourself with all the fun you’ve had today.” Nick knew how tired he was after being buried alive and although this wasn’t too the same calibre he still had sympathy.
“We didn’t check for concussion.” Greg commented, knowing the head injury could be a cause of the tiredness.
“Let’s swap over and we can check.”  Nick moved behind Greg ready for the swap “Alright Y/N you’re coming to me now.”
You unwrapped your arms from Greg and placed them around Nick’s neck, letting him carry you bridal style. Greg slipped his torch from his belt and turned it on. “I’m fine really.”
“We’ve got to be careful though, you do have a nice wound on the back of your head.”
You rolled your eyes “Alright.”
“Feel nauseous?”
“Nope”
Greg quickly checked you for concussion “I don’t think you have it but fight falling asleep ok? We need an actual professional opinion.” he began walking and Nick fell into step next to him.
“I’ll do my best.”
It wasn’t too long before the main sight came into view again, but you were certainly fighting to stay awake now, eyelids feeling heavier by the second and the chill having even more of an effect on you. “Hey, hey. Eyes open.” Nick’s voice came out softly.
You smiled “I’m trying.”
“We know.”
The light of the main scene greeted you and the men made a B-line for the car. Greg opened the door for Nick and he put you down right by the door. Helping you into the car he quickly moved around to the driver's seat and started up the engine. 
Greg had brought an emergency blanket, some water and snacks for you out of the trunk. He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, his hands fumbling, as you took the bottle of water from him and took some sips. 
Nick was soon gripping the steering wheel and speeding from the scene, calling in what had happened to dispatch while the two of you in the back were distracted, you with staying awake and Greg with ensuring you were ok.
“They’re sending a police unit back up just in case the guy tries to take any more evidence. D.B and Catherine are going to take the case until we’re back. He’s told us to look after Y/N.”
You shivered in the back seat, not really hearing what Nick had said.
Greg looked at you sympathetically and wrapped an arm around your shoulders bringing you into his side for a reassuring hug. “We can definitely do that.” Greg made eye contact with Nick through the rearview mirror and Nick gave him an acknowledging nod.
Tag List: (open)
CSI:
Nick Stokes:
Greg Sanders:
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helpistolethesecharacters · 3 years ago
Text
A Match Made by the Gods
Part 2
Thor x Male Son of Zeus Reader
Word Count: 1576
Hi Anon! I hope this is what you were after for part 2!
-----------
Thor leaned back in his seat, admiring Y/n as he sipped his drink. They had been meeting a couple of times a week for a drink or two ever since their encounter in the forest over a month ago now.
After the initial misunderstanding between them, Thor had felt a little unsure how to go about acting on the not-at-all platonic feelings that were developing inside him. Normally he would just go for it, after all, you wouldn't know if the other person was interested if you didn't ask, but he was wary. Things hadn't ended well with Jane, and he was hesitant to have things sour between himself and Y/n.
"Tell me more of this 'Camp Half-Blood' that you work at."
The amused expression on Y/n's face was worth more than Thor could say. He did so enjoy seeing the other man's face light up in any way.
"Well," Y/n began with a private smile, "We're all descendants of Greek Gods. We've got the big three; Zeus, Poseidon and Hades, and then the lesser known Gods and Goddesses of the Pantheon. Each one has a cabin for their children when they come through the camp. Some of them are bigger, like the one for Aphrodite's children, and they're usually located near the various things that are the most relevant to that God, like Poseidon's cabin is located right on the water."
Thor watched Y/n gesture with his hands as he got more caught up in explaining. There was so much life in this man. Thor enjoyed being someone who was allowed to see it.
"The kids are great, but things can get pretty crazy when you add in super abilities and prejudices and whatnot."
"Prejudices? What do you mean?"
Y/n took another sip of his drink and mulled the question over. He was sure that Thor wasn't asking about the word itself, more the context. He refused to buy into the popular theory that the God was totally naive.
"Well, its a pretty mixed bag at the camp. There are the kids that stick to their parents particular grudges and beefs with the other Gods and Goddesses in the hopes that if they hold the same beliefs, then maybe their parent will pay them attention or find them worthy, or something. And then there are the ones that can see their parent for what they are. Those are the ones that either make up their own minds or hold the complete opposite opinion simply for the chance to pull the finger, metaphorically, at their absent parent."
Thor bowed his head in thought.
"Those that can see their parent for what they are. What are they?"
His normally boisterous voice was lowered to account for the serious conversation he had stumbled onto.
Y/n leaned in unconsciously as he answered.
"Well, essentially they're the deadbeat parent that left the other parent with a baby and no real way to protect it from the dangers that come for them just for being what they are."
They were silent for a little while, both lost in thought.
"I think that, for the God or Goddess in question, there's an element of shame in there. More than what you would expect for having abandoned their child."
Y/n licked his dry lips and kept his eyes on his glass, now empty on the table in front of him.
"For them, we, the children they leave behind," he clarified with a quick glance at Thor, "are a symbol. We are absolute proof that they are not the perfect beings they pretend they are. We are the undeniable fact that they, the seemingly divine Gods, fell in love and laid with humans. For all their powers, they are not so different from us. The only difference is that we don't deny our faults."
Thor sat in silence, just watching the man on the other side of the booth. For all that both Asgardians and Olympians were regarded as Gods by the humans, they were apparently quite different. He, for one, was sure there was no force on Midgard that could force him to leave Y/n behind. He would even defy his own father if it came down to it. He might not have the other man in the way that he wanted yet, but he was sure that at some point in the future it would happen. Their meeting had been nothing less than an act of fate.
-----------
Something odd was happening to Thor. A few times in the last week his powers had acted up without his prompting. Specifically, the last two times he had walked Y/n back to his car, he had gathered his courage and gone to lean in to try to kiss him goodnight, but instead of either being rebuffed or accepted, thunder would rumble out of nowhere or lightning would strike down far too close for comfort.
It wouldn't affect Thor much, it was his element, but if he was this out of control at the thought of kissing the other man, he was worried that he could accidentally hurt him, or worse.
So tonight when they were standing by Y/n's car and lingering by each other with no other reason to prolong goodbye, Thor was understandably nervous. He wanted so badly to kiss Y/n, but he really didn't want to be the cause of pain for the other man.
He didn't even get close this time, as just as he made to step closer, thunder rolled across the sky warningly. Thor looked into Y/n's eyes, an exasperated look on his face.
"I am very sorry about that, I honestly don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't been this out of control since I was much younger!"
He took in the guilty look on Y/n's face and felt his own face shift to match the confusion he was feeling.
Y/n cringed.
"I don't think it's your fault."
Thor shifted slightly.
"Father." He said softly, suddenly connecting the dots from their first meeting. The look on Y/n's face was confirmation enough for him.
"Your father is Zeus, the lightning God."
Thor spoke slowly as he parsed out his thoughts. Y/n nodded with a defeated look on his own face.
"Yeah, sorry about this. I don't know what his problem is, he hasn't interfered in my life in years. To be honest with you I thought he had forgotten he had me as a son."
Thor thought to relations between the realms of the 'Gods'.
"I might have an idea about that."
--------------
'Sometimes it pays to know so many sorcerers.' Thor thought absently to himself as he stood on the top of the Empire State building. He wasn't about to walking into their realm, but he also knew that if they didn't do this now, he might never get up the nerve to do it.
It had taken pathetically little time to find out where the entrance was. Thor knew he could have asked Y/n, but he wanted to sort this out without him, and he just knew that Y/n would want to be involved if he told him why he wanted to know.
Unfortunately, he knew how the 'Gods' tended to think of humans, Y/n might only be half human but that still made him lesser than them in the eyes of those with powers and life-spans like theirs, and Thor wasn't about to put Y/n in that position if he didn't have to.
An earsplitting strike of lightning right beside him brought Thor out of his thoughts. He looked out over the skyline instead of facing the man he now knew was Y/n's father.
"Why have you come here Asgardian? You are not welcome in our territory."
"You know why I am here."
He left it at that. Zeus knew why he was there, and Thor wasn't prepared to pretend otherwise.
The other man turned to stare at Thor. He turned to meet Zeus's eyes. He wasn't about to be cowed by this man. They shared an element after all.
"You are trying to corrupt my son."
Thor rolled his eyes and turned back to the skyline. It was less infuriating.
"I have no such wishes. Your son is a good man. I wonder what stake you could have in the matter. The worried father? I think perhaps you lost that right when you gave him to his mother and turned away. Perhaps you are worried for your power base? I have no plans to sway Y/n from his position, nor any future plans you may have for him."
Zeus was staring stonily at Thor.
"Whether I was there during his childhood in person or not is not the issue here. I was always there in spirit."
He sighed, and seemed to lose his fight.
"I suppose, in the end, you are right. I have no control over who my son dates. But let me tell you. If you hurt my son, not even your All-Father will be able to save you from my wrath. There will be nowhere in any realm that you could hide where I would not find you."
With a last strike of lightning, Zeus was gone, leaving Thor standing on the top of the Empire State building alone.
The one thing that broke through the silence left behind by Zeus was the thought that if he hurt Y/n, he would deserve everything that the other God would heap on him.
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tinyboxxtink · 3 years ago
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"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 2*
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Part 1
Part 3
Y'all IDK what it is about this story but I can just write and write and write. This one ended up being 11 pages [on a google doc] And I only stopped because it's 2:15 am.
I hope you guys like this, but I just want to clarify: This isn't a Barisi fic. I'm sorry, if you're looking for that, just...this isn't it. I mean they do interact and it'll be fun, but they will not be ending up together.
That being said, enjoy this new chapter! I'm debating on how pathetic enamored Sonny is, I don't think I'm gonna go that deep. No worries, people.
As always let me know if you want to be added/deleted off the tag list!! <3
Tag List
@madamsnape921
@lolliepopsicle
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@milkshqke
@wanniiieeee
@word-scribbless
@gibbs274
@sassyada
@aprildecker-blog
@bookishfanfic
@stars-in-the-skies-world
@stars-trash-18
@omgsuperstarg
@objection-argumentative
-------
"Y/N, I'm so happy for you and Barba. You make the cutest couple," Sonny beamed at you while you were wrapped in Rafael's arms, huge smiles on all of your faces.
"Thank you Sonny, that means so much." You gave him a warm hug.
"Yeah….and you'll make the cutest couple in HELL!" All of a sudden Sonny pushed both you and Rafael off a cliff.
You were falling to your death when you woke up to your professor glaring at you.
"Have a nice nap, Miss Y/N?" He scowled at you.
"Um," You cleared your throat and straightened up at your desk. "Yes sir,"
"Good," he huffed as he headed to the front of the classroom once more. "Maybe now we can continue without your snoring,"
You heard the students around you snicker at his comments as You sunk lower into your desk and waited for class to end. It had been a long train ride home and then a drive to your apartment last night, you hadn't gotten home until around 2 am and had this 8 am class. As soon as the professor dismissed your class you booked it out of the class and out into the parking lot of your community college.
"Ugh, could this day get any--" before you could even finish your thought you got your answer. Your phone beeped with a text from Rafael:
RAFA: Hey killer, how's the bullshit county? 😉
That was the nice thing, then just as you were about to text him back your phone lit up.
SONNY BOI CALLING
"Shit!" You hissed to no one. "How does he know?!"
"Ahem….Heyyy, cuz," You answered it with your best nonchalant voice. That of course sounded totally chalant.
"Hey sunshine," His voice sounded relaxed, thank God.
"What's up?" You tried keeping your tone light as you neared your car.
"Well y'know I was just thinkin, I feel real bad about standing you up last night,"
"Oh, Son it's no big deal really," the fact that he felt guilty about anything made you feel even more guilty.
"No, I know you have a busy schedule and it takes a lot to get into the City and I just blew you off," He kept on with the guilt train.
"You didn't blow me off Son you had work. I get that--" You unlocked your car and got in, starting it so your windows would thaw. And your whole body.
"Well I wanna make it up to you," He cut you off.
"Oh?" your voice fell short. This couldn't be good.
"Yeah, my boss-- well he's not really My boss but Mr. Barba--"
Oh shit. Barba? Was Barba having a party? Why wouldn't He tell you that? Wait why WOULD he tell you that? Stupid. Wait, what was Sonny saying?
".... birthday, so you could be like my date," you caught the tail end of his invite.
"Birthday?" You repeated like a parrot. It was Barba's birthday? Oh god. You were really trying not to focus on how old he was. Don't ask. For the love of god don't say it Sonny.
"Yeah don't worry you don't need to get him anything, I got it covered," Sonny assured you.
Well, that was one way you could figure out just how much your cousin cared about his "idol". The more expensive the gift, the stronger the feelings were. You wondered whether you should ask him now or wait for the surprise. Maybe you should ask now, then his answer should tell you what you'd be getting into.
*So what did you get this 'non boss' of yours?" You asked slyly.
"Oh," now Sonny's voice dropped. "Well I, I don't wanna say,"
Fuck.
Don't panic. Do not panic.
"Oh come on Sonny," you did your best to keep a joking tone. "What am I gonna do, tell him?"
Should you joke about it? Hidden in plain sight, right?
"No I guess not, it's not like you know him,"
Whew.
"It's just kinda embarrassing…."
Oh god.
"O-Oh?" You tried to stay calm. "Why's that? Is it a gag gift?"
Please be a gag gift.
"Actually it's a new briefcase," He replied.
"Oh why is that embarrassing you goof?” You gave him a hard time. What was that in the emotional baggage department? Pun intended.
"I mean, it's more expensive than the one I own," You could hear the shrug in his voice.
Fuck. Don't ask why. Don't ask. But if you don't ask, that will be even more suspicious wouldn't it?
"Oh Son," You asked softly. "Why would you do that?"
"Well the one he has is as old as dirt, I think it's probably the first one he ever bought. I wanted him to look snazzy in court." He replied with a super eager tone.
"That's sweet," you were pounding your steering wheel in frustration. Say it.
"Seems like a lot of work for a mentor though," You closed your eyes mentally killing yourself.
"Yeah well," he laughed uncomfortably.
Say it.
"Sonny…” You didn’t want to do this.
“Yeah?” He was oblivious.
“You know you can always talk to me,”
“Yeah of course,” He assured you.
“About anything,” You scrunched your nose.
“Yeah I know, sunshine,” He half laughed.
“ANYTHING,” You reiterated
There was a long awkward pause.
“...Sonny?” You made sure he hadn’t hung up on you.
“Yeah, I'm here,” He replied softly.
“So?” You waited for the bomb to drop.
So…. He sighed. "I just want him to like me,"
Dammit.
"....Yeah," You nodded, cursing yourself.
"Yeah, its stupid. I'm stupid." He laughed again.
“You're not stupid,” you laid your head on the steering wheel in shame.” I mean the heart wants what it wants right?”
“What?! Oh my god, Y/N,” He scoffed. “I'm not gay,”
“….Sonny it's 2021,” you shook your head. “Sexuality is a spectrum,”
Right well. He laughed defensively. "I'm on the p in the v scale,"
“Ugh, Sonny,” you made a face.
“Sorry sunshine,” He apologized. “I just...why would you even think that?!”
“Uh…” You paused.
Maybe he wasn't fully aware that he had romantic feelings for Rafael. If you started pointing out the signs, he might realize it. But then you'd have a cousin going through gay panic AND then finding out it doesn't matter anyway.
"No reason," You lied.
"I just want him to like him so he'll give me a good recommendation once I graduate Fordham Law,"
"Oh" you smacked your head. "Duh. Right. Of course,"
That was completely legitimate. Maybe you had been misreading this whole thing. Now you just had the whole overprotective Gotti side of Sonny to worry about.
"Well I guess I could spend the weekend in the city," You shrugged as you pulled out of the parking lot.
“Absolutely!” He exclaimed. “My couch is always open,”
Not exactly where you were thinking of sleeping, but you weren't blowing your cover over the phone. Wait, maybe you should. Then he couldn't kill you over the phone. Wait, he's presumably at work right now. You didn't know how closely he worked with Barba, but you figured it would be a hell of a lot easier for Sonny to get to him before you could stop him from killing Rafael.
"Sure sounds good. I'll see you then cuz,” You smiled and hung up the phone.
------
Friday arrived, and you once again found yourself standing outside Forlini's. You debated heavily whether to go in or not, but you told yourself you were going to wait for Sonny outside this time, no more risking a sexy bar rendezvous.
You hadn’t really responded to Rafael’s texts the last few days, and you certainly didn’t tell him you were coming. Maybe you should have told him. You grabbed your phone to text him when you heard a familiar voice behind you:
“Y/N?”
You spun around to see Rafael dressed to the 9’s, smiling at you. He smelled delicious, mixed with the food aroma wafting out of the restaurant and the smell of freshly fallen snow in New York City.
“...Happy Birthday, Counselor,” You bit your lip nervously.
“W-What are you doing here?” He stared at you as if he thought he was dreaming.
“Sonny invited me,” You nervously smiled.
“Seriously?” He laughed.
“Seriously,” You nodded with a laugh as well.
“Did-- did you say anything to him?” He asked you worriedly.
“Are you insane?!” You hit him. “No!”
“So why did he invite you here?” He asked.
“He said it was to make up for ditching me the other night,” You shrugged.
“...The irony,” He smirked.
“Mmm,” You nodded with an amused smile.
“Well this is a very happy birthday indeed,” He smiled, pulling you closer into his coat similar to the night you had met.
“....Just don’t ask which one it is,” He warned you while staring at your lips deviously.
“Deal,” You nodded in agreement before he pulled you into a hungry kiss.
“DUDE!!” You snapped back before his lips were on yours for more than a millisecond. “Are you nuts?! Sonny’s gonna be here any second!”
“It’s my birthday, carino,” He made a pouty face. “Don’t yell at me,”
“Oh lord,” You rolled your eyes. “Alright, man child,”
He was about to go for another sneaky kiss when you both heard a voice from behind you.
“....Sunshine?”
“Oh!” You jumped ten feet away from Rafael when you turned to see Sonny standing there with a huge gift bag, staring slack jawed at the two of you. “Sonny! I um, we--”
“I was teaching your cousin a lesson in New York safety,” Rafael talked over you, his face completely stone. God he was a good liar.
“Excuse me, counselor?” Sonny raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. You just stared in speechlessness.
“She was standing on this curb holding her bag out for any miscreant on these streets to just wrestle away from her, I was just demonstrating how,” He gestured to your open purse.
“Barba I really think this ain’t that kinda neighborhood,” Sonny half laughed.
“...You never know,” Rafael shrugged. “Now let’s all get inside, I’m sure everyone is anxious to start celebrating me,”
You and Sonny both rolled your eyes with smiles; too similar of smiles, you noticed. Thankfully, he did not. You both followed Rafael back to a private room where a bunch of fancy dressed people were mingling with drinks in their hands while two long empty tables stood in the middle of the room. They all stopped and clapped when Rafael walked in.
“Oh, for me?” He feigned surprise and humility.
“Yeah right Barba,” A woman laughed sarcastically. “You’re the one who invited us here,”
“Touche, Rita,” Rafael smirked as he began making the rounds around the table greeting everyone.
“So are we allowed to eat now, I’m starving,” An older man asked.
“And I’ve got a son waiting,” A red headed woman chimed in.
“Right, right,” Rafael nodded as people began to take seats. “Sorry everyone, you know I love to make a dramatic entrance,”
“Oh trust me we know, Barba,” Another man called. “Your catwalks into the courtroom prove that. I think we have a montage of them,”
“Ha Ha,” Rafael rolled his eyes, then turned to you and Sonny.
“Sonny,” He put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit next to me?”
“R-Really, counselor?” You saw Sonny’s eyes light up like Christmas tree lights.
Fuck. You knew he was only asking him so that you would sit next to him as well. And while you loved the idea, you knew how much this was toying with Sonny’s feelings.
“A-Are you sure, about that Mr. Barba?” You gave him a look.
“Absolutely, Miss-- I didn’t catch your name?” He played it so cool.
“Y/N,” You held out your hand as you re-introduced yourself.
“Right, well--” He shook your hand then turned his attention to Sonny who was still beaming like a kid on Christmas. “I don’t know how much Carisi has told you, but he is quite the promising mentee of mine,”
“....R-Really, Rafael?” Sonny blinked in disbelief, causing Rafael’s smile to falter for a moment. Sonny had never called him “Rafael” before, it was always “Barba”. Shit, maybe he had given him too much praise.
“I mean, you know, for a lap dog,” He quickly added with a snarky tone and a smirk.
“Mr. Barba!” You tried not to raise your voice at the birthday boy. “That is my cousin you’re talking ab---”
“No, no it’s fine Y/N-- th-that’s how we work isn’t it, counselor? He just gives me jabs, I know he doesn’t mean it,” Sonny laughed nervously, staring at the floor. He knew not to get too comfortable with Barba, why did he even try it?
“Indeed,” Rafael nodded in agreement. “But, I still request you sit by me-- at least I know you don't poison my food. Which is more than I can say for many of my esteemed ‘guests’,” He eyed the tables of people before him.
“Then why invite them to your party?” You quirked an eyebrow.
“I get that Jersey doesn’t have the social classes of Manhattan, Miss Y/N,” He smirked. “But here, you’ve got to do things to keep up appearances,”
“Oh do you?” You practically growled.
“Yes,” He nodded while a waiter brought him a glass of scotch. “Even if you don’t like someone, if they serve a purpose for you than you do what you must to keep in their good graces,”
“Oh is that so? So you’re only kind to people who can ‘serve’ you?” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him.
What kind of Danny Zuko bullshit was this?! This was an entirely different Rafael Barba you had met the other night. He was kind, flirty, endearing. This new Barba was snarky and condescending, and you were not amused at all.
“Y/N, chill,” Sonny hissed at you. “This is just how Barba is, he’s harmless,”
“Yeah well you might not mind being his doormat Sonny, but I sure as hell won’t be,” You angrily stomped off.
“Oh my god,” Sonny muttered, wondering if he should run after you or not. “Barba, I am so so sorry about her,”
“It’s fine, Carisi,” He watched you stomping away, trying to hide the guilt in his voice. He was just trying his best to throw Sonny off the trail. He may have overcompensated just a tad.
“I-I should go check on her, She’s just a kid--”
“No, allow me,” Rafael put a hand to Sonny’s chest. “It was my faux paux, I should apologize to her myself. I was being a bit of an ass,”
“Yeah but that’s just you, Barba,” Sonny chuckled, trying not to blush at Rafael’s hand on his chest.
“True, but I forget not everyone knows me as well as you do, Carisi,” And now he was trying to be extra nice to Sonny to get on his good side, while cluelessly egging on his feelings.
“That is very true,” Sonny laughed even more nervously. “I’ll uh, I’ll take a seat and get our drinks ordered,”
“Excellent,” Rafael smiled at him, probably one of five times in the entire time they’d known each other. He gave Sonny one more pat on the back before walking after where you had stomped off to.
He found you right before you hit the front door, his hand catching yours before it could grab the handle. You turned and scoffed at him, your scowl still present after stomping off.
“Oh, come to appease me, counselor? How can I be of service to you?” You snapped.
“Please, Y/N,” He gave you apologetic eyes as he pulled you closer to him. “I’m sorry, I just-- I didn’t want Carisi to think anything was off. He already caught us being handsy, I had to make it look like we disliked each other,” He explained.
“Oh I think you’ve done that above and beyond, jackass,” You huffed. “First I’m too stupid to not get robbed in the city, and then I’m too uncultured to understand ‘high society’ manipulative bullshit?”
“I’m sorry, I may have gone a little over--” He started.
“But that wasn’t even an act, was it?” You interjected angrily.
“What do you mean?” He asked you curiously.
“Your line of you having ‘use’ of a person? I assume that is why you have a room full of powerful people you dislike as opposed to a room full of sycophants?” Yeah, you might just go to community college but you knew big words too.
“I mean, that is how it works--”
“Jesus Christ,” You shook your head with a laugh. “You know I understood for about half a second why my cousin is so infatuated by you, but I am losing that belief real quick,” You turned and started to walk away again.
“Y/N come on,” He grabbed both of your arms this time and pulled you close into him, your noses almost touching.
“Look I’m-- I’m sorry, that I’m---this,” He gestured to himself.
“But that’s just how I have to be in their world,” He gestured back towards the room. “I’m telling you, it’s a room full of sharks. If I show weakness or misstep in decorum, I’m nothing but chum to those people,”
“The guy you met the other night, that’s the real me,” He put a hand to your cheek. “I never get to be that guy, not in public. That’s why I was so attracted to you,” He put his other hand on your waist.
“I don’t have to be ‘Rafael Barba, the snarky ADA with a silver tongue,’ I can just be…’Rafa’,” He gave you an earnestly sad smile.
“I’m sorry,” You blinked in confusion. “I know I’m not helping myself but what exactly is the ‘ADA’?”
Your question brought that familiar amused grin and a laugh. “See, this is what I’m talking about,”
“Oh yeah I know, the ignorant girl you can placate--”
“No,” He put a finger on your lips. “The earnest, normal, gorgeous girl,” He kissed your forehead. “I’m sure if we took a poll in here right now the majority of the room would be with you, not knowing what an ADA is,”
“Which still doesn’t answer the question,” You pointed out.
“I…” He tried to think of a way to explain his role in the Manhattan judicial system. “Well, the DA of the county is like-- the King of Lawyers in that section. Or queen, as my boss is Rita,” He shook his head with a laugh. Oh Rita Calhoun, the stories he could tell about her.
“So, you’re her king?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Eh, I’d say Prince but she’d probably say Jester if she heard this metaphor to be honest with you,”
“Mmm I like that,” You finally let yourself smile at him.
“A Prince?” He grinned.
“The Jester,” You gave him a tongued smile, settling against his chest.
“Well, I’ll gladly take that title if it makes you happy,” He kissed your forehead. “I’d do anything to make you happy right now,”
You looked into his green eyes, they were now their usual sparkling green hue, and you remembered very quickly how you had gotten yourself in this mess in the first place. He really was a sweet, charming, gorgeous guy. And then you remembered those were probably all the reasons Sonny fell for him too.
“Ahem.” You straightened up and stepped out of his grasp. “Well, what would make me happy right now is getting back to my cousin,”
“Oh,” Rafael’s eyes softened into a sad gaze.
“Rafael, I think he really likes you,” You bit your lip with guilt. “And you toying with him just now isn’t helping!”
“Toying with him?” Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion? “I wasn’t toying with--”
“Sit by me, Carisi? You’re important to me, Carisi?” You imitated his questions in a mocking tone.
“I had to ask him that so you would--” He started to explain, but you already knew.
“I know!” You stopped him. “I know, that’s why it’s so fucked!” You put your hands over your face.
“Carino…” Rafael walked over and pulled your hands from your face and held them.
“I’m hurting him every second that I stand here with you, and I--” You bit your lip trying not to cry. “I’m still doing it! I can’t walk away!”
“So don’t,” He squeezed your hands with an even sadder look.
“This is just--” You broke free from his grasp once again and wiped your eyelids. “We need to get back before Sonny comes after you,”
“....So where does this conversation leave us, then?” He asked you cautiously.
“I don’t…” You gazed into his puppy dog emerald eyes. “I don’t know, I don’t want to think about it right now, okay?”
“Fair enough,” He put his hands down in concession. “...But we really need to--”
“Yeah, I know,” You nodded softly as you walked back to the private room, Rafael trailing behind you.
All you could think on the way back was how in God’s name were you going to make it through the rest of the night.
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on-maars · 4 years ago
Text
Parenthood
Finally took the time to write a lil something for buddie again. Hope you’ll like this  🥰
Just Bobby acting like a dad to Eddie and them having a quick chat about his (obvious) feelings for Buck.
Read it on AO3.
Bobby doesn’t usually ask Eddie to help in the kitchen. Not that he doesn’t want it, he just knows that cooking is not exactly Eddie's area of expertise. This is a widely accepted truth among the 118.
Still, when Eddie asks him if he needs a hand in the kitchen this morning, Bobby finds himself nodding and handing him the knife to chop the vegetables while he’s keeping an eye on the meat.
Bobby doesn’t need much time to realize that Eddie’s sudden burst of willingness to cook may have been brought about by ulterior motives; his hand gestures are way too hasty, too sharp and the vegetables start to suffer the consequences, looking more like some kind of puree rather than small squared pieces like he asked him to a few minutes ago.
Bobby doesn’t say anything at first, wondering if it’s his place or not, but he quickly realizes he doesn’t have to. Eddie takes that decision for him a few minutes later by abruptly letting go of the knife, a dull sound resonating inside the living-room. Both Hen and Chim look up at him, share a quick glance with each other and flee the scene without looking back.
“I think I’m gay.” Eddie suddenly says and Bobby raises his eyes at him, wondering why Eddie opened up to him of all people, surely someone like Hen or Michael would be more helpful in the matter. Still, he stays silent and offers him a small smile of encouragement. “Demisexual, too.”
“Okay.” Bobby only answers.
“It means that I-”
“I know what being demisexual means, Eddie.” Bobby cuts in.
“I- I didn’t.” Eddie says, lowering his voice. “I only just found out about it. About everything, in fact. And- there’s a lot of terms, Bobby. It’s- it's a lot.”
“It can be pretty overwhelming at first.” Bobby agrees. “I wouldn’t know half of that stuff if it wasn’t for May and Harry.” He adds.
“Yeah, May was- She was very helpful actually. She was the first person I- I told. She kept sending me these articles afterwards and after a bunch of sleepless nights, it finally started to make sense. Or I mean I- I think it does. I’m still- still trying to figure it out, really.” Eddie asks, letting out a bitter laugh. “I mean, look at me. Coming to terms with my sexuality at age 30, it’s- it’s pathetic. I’m pathetic.”
“You’re not.” Bobby says, his voice determined. “Eddie, there’s no right way to figure out your sexuality just like there’s no right age to come out. And yeah it might be easier for some people but if that’s how you feel today then that’s valid too, Eddie. And these terms… These terms you’re looking for online, they’re only here to help, you do know that right? If you don’t exactly fit in a box, that’s okay too.”
“Yeah, yeah I- I know.” Eddie says, the tone of his voice still uncertain. He picks the knife again and goes on chopping the vegetables, more slowly this time, with more patience, more precision. He doesn’t look at his Captain in his eye, though. Not after what he just said, not after this conversation. And Bobby doesn’t push. He never does. He brings back his attention on the meat instead, turning the steaks so that they cook evenly.
For a few minutes, neither of them say anything. They just sit there, enjoying the silence, enjoying the quiet.
Eddie’s the first one to break it.
“It’s just not something I’ve been exposed to before, you know.” Eddie says. “The way I was raised, the house I grew up in. It’s never been something- something I had the luxury to think about.”
“But this changed.” Bobby finishes for him, smiling softly at Eddie when this one darts his eyes towards him for just a few seconds, looking away just as fast. Bobby can see him put his fingers together into a fist, most likely trying to push through the conversation despite the fear of confiding in someone about something so personal, so intimate.
“How could it not change?” Eddie answers, and Bobby catches him looking softly at the sleeping figure of Buck on the couch.
“You know you should just tell him.”
As soon as these words leave Bobby’s mouth, Eddie looks down, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red as his right hand rubs the skin of the back of his neck. “Tell him what?” He asks and Bobby rolls his eyes at him.
“Tell him how you feel.” Bobby clarifies. “You know he’s only waiting for you to get there.”
Bobby follows his gaze and his own eyes fall on Buck. Buck who’s sleeping on the couch, his mouth slightly agape, a book in his hands.
Bobby knows the kid enough to say with absolute certainty that the book he’s holding most likely focus on whatever topic Christopher is studying at school. It’s not rare for Bobby to find Buck deeply involved in a research spree on the internet, just to be able to talk about it and exchange some interesting facts with Christopher at the end of the day.
“How can you be so sure?” Eddie asks.
���It’s Buck.” Bobby answers so simply, like it’s reason enough. “He’s my kid.”
“How- how long have you known?” He says, his expression quizzical.
“That you two love each other?” Bobby starts, his eyebrows raised. “We all had our doubts. You’ve always been joined at the hip, Eddie. Sure, Buck was more vocal about it than you... You’ve always been quieter, more cautious.” He goes on but quickly adds when Eddie looks up at him with an alarmed expression on his face. “Which is not a bad thing. It’s just the way you are.”
“How could- how could you guys have known for so long?” Eddie asks with a sigh, his eyes still focused on the sleeping form of Buck. “I’ve been… I’ve been so clueless.”
“It’s not a competition, Eddie.” Bobby reminds him. “There’s a very thin line between friendship and relationship. And it doesn’t matter how long it took you to get there, Eddie. Because when you think about it, nothing of what you guys shared and continue to share today is going to change. It’s still gonna be there. You’re still gonna be best-friends before anything else.”
“I guess.” Eddie says, still unsure.
“Nobody’s asking you to tell him now, you know?” Bobby asks. “You can take your time. Let it sink in.”
“No I’m-” Eddie starts, shaking his head. “I’m ready.” He says, his voice determined. “Turns out getting shot really put things into perspective.” He adds, letting out a nervous laugh.
As if electrocuted by Eddie’s words, Buck wakes up with a start, his entire face contorted with what Bobby guesses is fear. He looks around in alarm for a few seconds, his eyes shining with tears, until they both fall on Eddie and his face suddenly softens. The gaze is so soft, so intimate, Bobby almost wants to look away.
Buck approaches the kitchen counter quietly and sits on the chair, running his now shaking hands through his face. His eyes find Eddie again and the older man simply nods and places his left hand on the table, and Bobby realizes that’s simply another one of their non-verbal conversations.
No one in that firehouse had mastered the art of speaking without actually exchanging words more than these two.
Bobby observes Buck as he slowly encircles his best-friend's wrist with his finger, his index and his third finger resting between Eddie’s wrist bone and tendon, no doubt checking his pulse. His hand shakes for a few more seconds but a soft smile eventually stretches up his lips when Eddie intertwines their fingers together.
“You’re okay?” Eddie asks.
“I am, now.” Buck answers, lowering his eyes towards their intertwined fingers. Bobby turns around to take the plates out and give them some privacy. But he can still hear the next few words coming out of Eddie's mouth.
“What was it this time?” He asks.
“The- the shooting. You were dying before I had the chance to drive you to the hospital.”
“Well I’m here now.” Eddie says and Bobby can picture the smile on his face. “We’re okay.”
The conversation flows smoothly after that, Buck helping Bobby and taking over Eddie’s cooking, stating that “no one should have to face food poisoning that early in the day.” Eddie nudges him playfully and takes a seat, checking in with Carla to make sure Christopher is okay at home.
“Did you know that there are more than 120 pyramids in Egypt? Give or take.” He says excitedly and Bobby rolls his eyes at him, not missing the way Eddie’s face softens at his words.
“I did not know that.”
“Crazy, right? And some of their stones weigh more than an Elephant, Bobby! And you know Ancient Egyptians were very big on astronomy and researchers said that they might have used the stars to align their pyramids. Although, I guess we’ll never know for sure cause the alignment of stars is constantly changing, you know, but that’s pretty cool, right?”
“Is Ancient Egypt Christopher’s new passion or Buck’s?” Bobby asks in Eddie’s direction.
“Both, apparently.” Eddie smiles.
“By the way Eds, there’s this Egyptian Museum in San Jose, they say it holds the largest collection of Egyptian artifacts, I thought we could check it out. It’s a five hours car drive, it's a bit long but we could make it work during a week-end maybe. Chris would be thrilled.”
“Sounds like a plan, Evan.” Eddie answers and Bobby frowns, surprised to see that the Evan privileges now seem to have extended and included Eddie. For a few seconds, he wonders whether he’s been slow on the uptake about that sudden advancement in their relationship but then he can see Buck’s face light up and turn a bit redder than usual and Bobby just knows that it’s just another one of these things he will need to get used to.
“Awesome, I’ll look into it, then. I’ll text you the details, alright?” Buck asks and he’s about to reach for his phone in his back-pocket when Eddie finally says those three words.
“I love you.”
Bobby stops stirring the soup and raises his eyes towards Eddie, who seems to have lost all composure.
“I’ll… I’ll let you two talk.” Bobby says. “Buck, you mind keeping an eye on the soup?”
“Uh I- yeah I’ll- I’ll take care of it, Bobby.”
Bobby leaves the kitchen, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder as he goes past him. He locks himself in his office and tries to focus on the most boring part of the job: the paperwork. It only lasts a few minutes, though, his curiosity eventually gets the best of him. From where he’s seated, he can still see Buck, his back facing him. And Bobby is not big on gossip but he’s had to watch these two dance around each other for so long it’s only fair he gets to witness the outcome of three years of unresolved tension, right?
Buck is standing in the kitchen, and from what Bobby can tell, this one hasn’t moved for the past ten minutes, probably focused on what Eddie’s saying or too shocked to say anything. It all changes after a few seconds, though. Buck’s body straightens up but he lowers his head to the ground, and Bobby doesn’t need to be standing next to him to picture the sheepish smile stretching up his lips.
He knows he’s right when Buck raises his eyes again, changing his position in such a way Bobby can now see his face. His eyes are warm, his expression soft and the captain of the 118 finally decides to look away when Eddie appears in his field of vision, cupping Buck’s cheeks with his hands and pressing their lips together.
A small smile breaks in on his face and he opens the first top left drawer of his desk, his right hand grasping the document that’s been gathering dust for soon to be three years:
Personal relationship disclosure form
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