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beelsnack · 4 years

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Obey Me! Boys and an Insecure MC

Alternate Title: Coping mechanisms? In my demonic dating sim? It’s more likely than you think.

I honestly didn’t mean for this to be so long, but hey.

CW: Depression, self hatred, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Lucifer: It was subtle, but nothing escaped the notice of the Eldest. He saw them fidgeting with their tie before heading to class, watched the frown tug at their lips when all they managed to produce was a rumpled tangle of silk. Caught them poking ruefully at their acne scars in the reflection of their D.D.D. Heard the frustrated sigh as they tried to sit in a way that hid the meat on their abdomen. But, above all, he paid close attention to those comments.

“Wow, I can’t do anything right, can I?”

“You would have to be a professional makeup artist to fix this mess, haha!”

“It’s alright, you can say I’m ugly.”

That was it. Lucifer stood from his seat at his desk, an errant paper fluttering to the ground in his wake. The Firstborn made his way over to where they were sitting, working away diligently on their laptop. Their breath caught in their throat when they turned to face him, and Lucifer fought back a sadistic grin when he felt them shudder at the feeling of his gloved hand sliding beneath their chin. He would file that away for later.

“That’s quite enough.” his voice was low as he lifted their face. They averted their eyes, clearly uncomfortable, but he kept his hand where it was. “Self-deprecation is unbecoming on anyone, but I certainly will not have it marring that beautiful face of yours.”

Nothing escaped the notice of the Eldest. Especially not the shy smile they wore as they bade him goodnight.

Mammon: Call him an idiot all you like, but if there was one thing that a solid gambling career had taught Mammon, it was how to read a person’s tells. The way they stood with their arms folded and body turned inward said they were trying to hide. Their habit of avoiding mirrors told him they hated the way they looked. The twinge of resigned sadness on their face when they carefully deflected Asmo’s blatant flirting made it obvious that they thought they didn’t deserve it.

It must have been particularly bad one night. The two of them had made themselves comfortable on the bed in preparation for movie night, but instead of cuddling up next to him like they normally did, they sat far enough away that Mammon had to actually scoot forward to jab them in the shoulder.

“Hey, what gives, human? Why’re you all the way over there?”

“I’m just feeling a little warm.” they shrugged, pulling their knees to their chest. They were trying to pull some reverse psychology bullshit by purposefully staring him in the eye while they lied to him. Mammon snorted.

“You really think you’re going to fool me like that? You’ve got at least a millennia until you can even think of lying to The Great Mammon!” he opened his arms and his voice softened when he spoke. “Come here.”

They hesitated - eyes flicking back and forth between him and a knot in the branches that made up their bed frame, nervous - before they tucked themselves into his waiting arms.

He leaned his cheek against the top of their head, inhaling the sweet smell of their freshly-washed hair and internally purring (maybe externally, but you wouldn’t be able to get him to admit it) when he felt them snuggle in a little deeper and release a pent up sigh.

Mammon stayed silent, absently stroking the back of their neck. Words had probably done the damage, and they definitely weren’t going to fix it. He knew that from experience. But shielding his human from their own poisonous thoughts for a few moments was a good place to start.

Levi: Self-deprecating comments were one of Levi’s main forms of communication. It was a defense mechanism, a low-level shield someone would cast when the enemy was ridiculously OP but the game didn’t give you a retreat option. He knew this mechanic.

But when he heard them use it, it made him angry.

How could someone as amazing as them - smart, pretty, brave, loved gaming, made sure to feed Henry 2.0 when Levi was at a Sucre Frenzy concert - think they were anything less then perfect? No, more importantly, who hurt them so badly that they started thinking that way?

He felt like he did that one time Mammon had dropped one of his limited-edition Ruri-chan figures from a balcony. Someone damaged something precious to him, and he wanted blood.

Of course, that would involve talking about feelings and other mushy, normie stuff, and he just wasn’t ready for that. So, he did the only thing he could think of.

Leviachan: Hey, you down for a raid? There’s this new set of armor - it’s suuuuuuper rare, and you’re the only one good enough to get through the dungeon with me!! Pleeeeaaaassseee?

Satan: These little reading dates had started without him really noticing. One day, the human had came into the library seeking a quiet place to study and finish up their homework. Then, they came in with a human world book that Satan had never heard of tucked under their arm and were more than willing to talk about it. This lead to the two of them huddled on the sofa with their noses buried in the same book, and the human surprising Satan by being able to keep up with his reading speed. And here they were.

Satan had chosen a detective novel that he was positive they would like, and the both of them had taken advantage of a quiet Sunday morning to let themselves get absorbed into the story. Satan had his long arms wrapped around them holding the book, and they were leaning against his chest as they flipped the pages. An easy routine that the two of them had fallen into.

He felt them sigh heavily against him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, no, I just...” they trailed off, gazing out the window at the dusty purple sky before snapping back to the present. “The love interest in this book is amazing. I’m a little jealous of them.”

“Jealous?” Satan echoed, looking down at the small frame curled up in his arms. “Why would you be jealous?”

“They were able to do so much with their life. They’re so young, yet they’ve got their life sorted out, they’re smart, beautiful, charismatic, and they’re confident in themselves despite all the shit people put them through...” they sighed again, and this time Satan heard the note of self-hatred on the exhale. “I can’t do anything like that.”

“Now where did you get that idea?” Satan said incredulously. “In the few months you’ve been here, you have excelled in every class you’ve taken, stood up against all of us in our true forms at least twice each, solved a murder, and convinced me to stop plotting to rip Lucifer’s throat out. All while adjusting to life in a world where most of the citizens could kill you by poking you a bit too hard. I would say that goes above and beyond ‘having your life sorted out.’“

The blush that bloomed across their face was so hot that Satan was able to feel it through his shirt, right next to his heart. He chuckled softly as he bent down to kiss their hair.

“I could write for eons about how amazing you are and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Asmo: Emotions fell right into his area of expertise, and even if they were immune to his charm, Asmo still could smell their emotions like a perfume. And their low self-confidence reeked like rotten fruit. A beautiful arrangement that had been abandoned and left to decay.

The Avatar of Lust was an inquisitive soul (Lucifer would call it being nosy, but whatever.) He was also a firm believer in the theory that you can tell everything you need to know about a person by their skincare routine. So that’s what led to him sneaking into their bathroom while Mammon had dragged them out on one of his stupid get-rich-quick schemes.

“Oh, I don’t think so!” Asmo cried in alarm as he picked up the bottle of human world acne treatment. “They might as well be washing their face with snake venom!”

With a scoff, Asmo kicked the waste basket out from beneath their counter and tossed the face wash in. Bottle after bottle followed it, and Asmo was just about to dump the last bottle of what he assumed was straight rubbing alcohol when he heard the door open.

“Asmo, what the fuck.”

“Darling, we need to have a very serious discussion about your choice in skincare products.” Asmo grimaced as he glanced at the label on the bottle before unceremoniously dropping it into the bottle graveyard. “Can you even pronounce some of these?”

Ah, there it was. The sickeningly sweet smell of self-hatred. Asmo fought the urge to recoil as they practically dove for the trash can.

“Asmo, come on, I have gross skin as it is, don’t take away the only things keeping me from looking like a slice of pizza.”

The sound of glass breaking echoed somewhere in the back of Asmo’s head. That rotten smell was rolling off of them in waves, but he fought off his aversion and knelt down next to them.

They nearly hit the ceiling when Asmo clasped their hands between his own. “Now, now, none of that.”

“None of what?”

Asmo giggled. “You know I wouldn’t bother associating myself with someone unsightly.” one of his hands moved to gently cup their jaw. “You poor thing, you’ve been ruining that lovely face of yours.”

“I didn’t think I could make it any worse.” they muttered, looking away as Asmo stroked a thumb over their cheekbone.

Asmo’s heart clenched, and he leaned forward to kiss them gently on the forehead. “Oh, I can’t stand hearing that kind of talk, especially coming from you. That settles it, then.” he stood with an air of finality.

“Settles what?” they tilt their head in a manner that reminded Asmo of a very adorable puppy.

“We’re going to get you some proper skincare products, and I’m going to spend the rest of the night making you feel like the divine beauty you actually are.”

It was only for a second, but Asmo swore that overpowering smell of rotten fruit was replaced with something just a little fresher.

Beelzebub: Normally, the Avatar of Gluttony wouldn’t complain about someone not eating. More for him. But he didn’t like the way the human was pushing food around their plate without actually eating any of it. They usually loved fried bat wing, too.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, keeping his voice low so his brothers wouldn’t butt in. “Aren’t you hungry?”

They laughed sheepishly, pushing their plate towards him. “Nah, not really. I was snacking all day. Here, you can have it.”

“But I just heard your stomach growl.”

Shame flashed across their face before they looked up at him with a grin that didn’t quite make it to their eyes. “I guess, haha. Just trying to watch my figure, you know?”

Before Beel could swallow down the mouthful of bat wing - when did he even pick it up? They had stood from the table and excused themselves, saying something about having a lot of homework.

It was a few hours before they got back to their room. What had started as them doing their homework in the living room had turned into Mammon begging them to help him study, which then somehow turned to Mammon challenging Satan to a pillow fight. Finally, they had decided to give up and do their homework in their room.

Something delicious wafted out of their room when they opened the door. The source was an overly full plate of food - with extra bat wing, they noticed - sitting on their desk. Blinking in confusion, they shut the door behind them and approached the plate. When they got closer, the note tucked underneath the plate came into view.

Please eat properly. I don’t want you to starve.

-Beel

Belphegor: He never would have called himself needy or touch-starved before. But after spending so long stuck in that attic room with his only interaction being with Lucifer, Belphegor couldn’t seem to get enough physical contact. Especially with the human.

He knew he didn’t deserve their affection, not with how he took advantage of them, manipulated them, murdered them. But the human had enough room in their heart to forgive him, and he would take any ounce of affection they were willing to give.

But it still stung when they flinched.

It was only for an instant, but Belphegor could feel the instinctual tightening of muscles when he draped himself over their shoulder. Feel them jump when he bumped shoulders with them in the hall. Feel their heartbeat speed up when he decided to use them as a body pillow.

“You know you can tell me no, right?” he murmured sleepily as the moment passed and the human settled down.

“Would you stop if I did?”

“Hm...” he hummed, cracking open one amethyst eye to peer at them. “If you don’t like me touching you, why do you let me do it?”

The human sighed, scooting down from their position against their headboard so they were face to face with Belphegor, who still had his hands around their waist like they were a giant teddy bear.

“It’s more like...I can’t believe you want to touch me.”

Now that woke Belphie up - well, as up as he could be while still doing his best impersonation of a koala. “What?”

They laughed, but it sounded strained. “Come on, Belphie, look at me. I’m all...jiggly.”

“So?”

Silence. They looked at him like they were trying to solve a puzzle, and he met their gaze like he was trying to figure out why they couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s not like it matters,” he shrugged, snuggling down into the soft blankets and holding the human a little bit tighter. “I like touching you because you’re you. You being soft and warm is a side benefit.”

“Belphie - “

He yawned, and they genuinely couldn’t tell if it was fake or not. “Shh, I’m going to sleep. You’re my pillow, so don’t talk. Especially if it’s negative stuff like that.”

Honestly, that was the best nap they’d had in a while.

#obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon #honestly this was supposed to be short #I just wanted to write something quick and then this happened

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bumblebee-moreno · 4 years

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Whiskey Dating a Doctor...

Request: “Hi me again I don't know if request are closed if so I'm so sorry for this, if request are open can I request a headcanon of whiskey dating a doctor. I love your work by the way hope you have an amazing day😊” from @fandom-doctors

Summary: Agent Whiskey dating a doctor would include...

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Gender Neutral! Doctor! Reader

Word Count: 531

Warnings: I think I swore like twice or something, idk.

A/N: Send in a request!

· You wanted a second, job, right?

· Because that’s kind of what you get dating Whiskey.

· This dumbass keeps getting hurt at work

· And then he calls you

o “Babe, you busy? I need stitches again.”

o “So… I think my nose is broken.”

· And yeah, Statesman has doctors, but none of them are as cute as you.

· Real talk though, he’s so proud of you.

· He knows how hard you worked for your career, and he knows how hard you work every day

· He appreciates you so much

· And he LOVES hearing your gross stories from your job.

· He sucks at remembering self-care, but ever since you two met, he’s been working harder at it

· Because he knows it stresses you out to hear he hasn’t had any water in the last 24 hours.

· He brags about you every chance he gets

· And he’s really good at helping you destress after a tough day at work (wink wink)

· He thinks the fact that your whole career is based around saving lives is really hot

· He’s a total sweetheart though

· Like when people hear about your job and start asking you questions about their own issues even though it’s a New Year’s party and you don’t want to think about their weird rash?

· He’s there steering the conversation in another direction

· Or steering you in the other direction.

· There’s something really attractive to him about you using medical terminology he doesn’t understand

· It’s like his version of an SO being bilingual

· But bonus points if you are bilingual because that’s just as hot to him…

· When it comes to handwriting things he always insists on doing it himself because “We want them to be able to read it, don’t we?”

· Even if your hand writing is actually good

· Actually especially if your handwriting is actually good

· It’s because he likes to tease you about it.

· One of his favourite things in the world is when you come home from work and are too exhausted to do anything, so you just cuddle on the couch and watch TV.

· Speaking of TV, he loves turning on medical shows

· Because he finds it so funny at how annoyed you get at how badly it’s done

o “no, that’s NOT HOW YOU SPINEBOARD SOMEONE, YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HER, DAVID! SHE’S DEAD YOU FUCKING TWISTED HER HEAD AROUND WHAT ARE YOU DOING STOP THAT SHE SHOULD BE DEAD BECAUSE YOU JUST SNAPPED HER GODDAMN NECK, DAVID!”

· He just likes seeing you flustered

· And he does everything to see that.

· Brags shamelessly about you to anyone who will listen

· Brags shamelessly about you to people who don’t want to listen but have no escape

· Teases you about your job

· Says medical stuff purposefully wrong so you have to correct him

o Pronouncing things wrong

o Saying things that are obviously factually incorrect

o He knows the correct information, you’ve taught it to him, he just likes to see you struggle not to correct him before finally snapping and reminding him that’s not how you pronounce “aspirate”.

· As much as he gets on your nerves, you care about each other a lot and he’s so proud of you.

#agent whiskey #pedro pascal #agent whiskey x reader #kingsman golden circle

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blake-belladonna-defence-force · 4 years

Note

How about number 77 from the prompt list? 😝

Hmm... “There is nothing wrong with you.”

Alright. Have some Beacon Bees 😁

This is based on the headcanon that Blake excels in history/political topics/ art while she struggles with maths/science/engineering based stuff.

And who do we know that excels in maths/science/engineering that could possibly lend her a hand?

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Hey, you doing okay?”

Yang asked as she walked up to Blake, who was currently curled up in an arm chair in the library.

“I’m fine, Yang.”

“You’re Reading Ninjas of Love.”

“What’s your point?”

“Ninjas of Love is your comfort read.” Yang said with a quirked eyebrow and crossed arms.

Blake stiffened before she gave Yang a brief scowl and turned back to her book, ignoring her in a very pointed manner.

Never let it be said that Blake Belladonna wasn’t stubborn.

“C’mon, Blake.” Yang wheedled, kneeling next to her partner’s arms chair and crossing her arms over one of the arms and resting her chin on them. “You know you can talk to me.” She said, purposefully making her voice sound a little goofy, aiming for the familiar twitching of lips that indicated an amused Blake.

“Yang.”

And there it was. A subtle twitch that indicated a job well done.

“You are... so ridiculous, you know that?” Blake sighed, calmly marking her place in her book and lightly bonking Yang on the top of her head with said book in a playful manner.

“You like that about me, though.”

“You can’t prove that.” Blake readjusted her legs, curling them underneath her as she leaned on the same armrest that Yang was. “You remember that maths test that I had last week? The one that made up for a large portion of this semester’s grade?”

“Yeah?”

“I failed. Spectacularly.” Blake’s scrunched up lightly in distaste. “It’s actually impressive how badly I failed.”

“Oh.” Yang cringed.

“And since we’re also graded as a unit… I’ve let you all down.” Blake frowned, guilt covering her face as she turned away, ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

“What? No, it’s okay.” Yang soothed gently, moving her hand to rest it on Blake’s. “I know you, Blake. You put 110% into everything you do. It’s… a little concerning, actually.” She said with a gentle, teasing smile that shifted to a pleased grin when Blake gently cuffed her shoulder playfully with an amused smirk of her own in place. “I know you did your best. Ruby will understand, too.”

“And Weiss?”

“Eh, she says anything bad about you, I’ll fight her.” Yang’s grin grew softer when Blake giggled behind her hand.

“Oh?” Blake said, head tilted playfully at Yang. “You’re going to defend my honour? Well, aren’t you the big, strong hero.”

“Going up against that particular beast?” Yang shuddered dramatically, staring at Blake with pretend terror. “I hope you appreciate the fact that there are very few people that I would willingly go up against a Weiss who’s just learned about her dropped grade for.”

“My hero.” Blake cooed playfully, reaching up to tap Yang’s cheek. “Still, you can’t deny that my grades in maths and engineering are letting the team down. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Yang immediately frowned at the bitter, almost self-loathing tone of voice. It wasn’t the first time she had heard it and it sadly wouldn’t be the last.

“There is nothing wrong with you.” Yang said firmly, gently as she tightened her grip on Blake’s hand gently. “Your brain’s just not designed for that particular kind of work. You’re a genius in all of our political and history classes and I’ve seen you draw. Your brain’s just not wired for science and maths based stuff.”

“Unlike you.”

“Exactly!” Yang grinned up at her friend. “Which is why I’m offering to help you.”

Blake blinked at her in surprise and tilted her head in confusion, as though struggling to comprehend the idea.

“And what would you ask for in return?”

“I- wait. What?” Now Yang was confused. “Nothing? You’re not a random student, Blake. You’re my friend. Why would I ask for something in return? I’m definitely not going to ask you for lien or whatever.”

“Because there’s always an ulterior motive.” Blake muttered, looking away with distant gaze. “At least… that’s what I’m used to.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Yang said softly, tilting her head to look at Blake’s eyes. She had quickly learned that Blake needed eye contact when talking with people. “But there’s no ulterior motive here. I just want to help my friend.”

“I-“ Blake sighed wearily. “I don’t have much of a choice. I need to get those grades up.”

“I’m not going to make you take my help.” Yang said quietly. “You always have a choice, Blake.”

The surprise on Blake’s face tugged at Yang’s heart strings terribly. Wherever Blake has come from, it can’t have been a very healthy place.

“I- Um. Thank you, Yang.” Blake said, voice almost achingly soft with a smile to match. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Great.” Yang smiled softly, swallowing thickly because Blake’s smile was suddenly the most important thing in existence. “We can get started this weekend.”

Blake let out a soft, affirming hum and uncurled herself from her seat, standing stretching out her stiff body as she went before slipping her shoes back on. It really shouldn’t have looked as elegant as she made it look.

“Come on.” Blake sighed, rolling her eyes as she held out her hand to Yang and helped her to her feet, despite Yang not needing it. “Let’s go let the music play.”

“By music… you mean the Imperial March, right?” Yang grinned, slowly draping her arm across Blake’s shoulder, silently taking note how Blake’s flinch was less pronounced than it used to be.

“When it comes to our very own Ice Queen?” Blake smirked up at her as she curled an arm around Yang’s waist and leaned into her. “Absolutely.”

“I’m totally playing it when she starts lecturing you.”

“Good!” Blake snorted. “Think we can get your sister to film Weiss’s reaction to it?”

“Of course!”

She may have called Blake a lost cause when they first met, but with each day that passed, Yang was quickly learning that there was so much more to Blake than she first thought.

Brooding and dark at first, yes. But she was also bright and playful, with cheekiness and feistiness to match Yang’s own. She was compassionate and dedicated and fought and worked with a fiery passion that Yang never even knew could exist.

Yang could feel herself becoming finder of the girl each day that passed them by.

And she couldn’t bring herself to stop it.

#yang xiao long #blake belladonna #bumbleby #rwby #fanfic

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lostinshawnsmemory · 5 years

Text

Figure You Out: Chapter 4 - Shawn x African OC

A/N: I would like to apologise for how long it’s been since you saw Shawn and Tolani. Life just gets in the way you know? That being said, they are back with a vengeance.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning(s): None

MASTERLIST

Series Masterlsit

Fic Playlist

“How was the date with coffee boy?”

Tolani stopped, her fork halfway to her mouth. Desire had insisted that she joined her, Nicole and Kyle for lunch on campus during their collective free period and there was no way she could get out of it. “We haven’t hung out as a group since that night.” she had whined. “That was a week ago. I mean we all live together.”

“Umm. Coffee boy is fineee.” Tolani shrugged drawing out the ‘fine’. “Just fine?” Desire asked with a raised eyebrow. “You looked so excited before you left yesterday and we didn’t catch you at the cinema so it must have been good.” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“You’re dating!” Nicole squealed. “Nope.” Tolani shook her head. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“What’s wrong with dating?”

“Firstly, one coffee date doesn’t mean I’m ‘dating’. ” Tolani said raising her hands to put the words dating in air quotations. “Second of all, I didn’t come all the way here to meet a boy. I have shit to do.” Tolani huffed, signalling the end of the conversation.

“You know we didn’t ask you to come out just to ask about your coffee date right?” Nicole looked at her. “We want to hang out with you and get to know you.”

“Yeah.” Kyle added. They’d crossed paths a few more times after ‘liongate’ as she was calling it. After that comment, she’d been incredibly wary of him and even though she wouldn’t call him a friend anytime soon, he was someone that Desire spent a lot of time with and because of that, she was willing to give him a chance. “We want to be here for you.”

The sentiment was sweet if not a little premature. Tolani knew that they were being nice and wanted to get to know her, but she just didn’t feel 100% comfortable around them yet. It took a while before she warmed to people, save for a certain curly-haired singer who knew more about her than anyone in the city, though that wasn’t saying much when she took into account how many people she actually knew in Toronto.

“The date with coffee boy was good.” Tolani smiled thinking back to her coffee date with Shawn and the subsequent car ride date if you could call it that. “We talked about life and music. You know casual first date stuff.” “You said the word date!” Nicole observed winking at Tolani “And you were clearly out of your comfort zone and I for one am happy about it.” she sipped on her drink. “It was…. nice.” Tolani muttered staring at her meal as if the answers to the universe’s deepest questions were in her pasta salad. “He’s cute.” she shrugged.

“Look at you divulging information” Desire said with a raised eyebrow, “I thought I would have to threaten you for you to tell us anything.” Tolani playfully elbowed her. “I share things with you guys.”

“Yeah right.” the two girls scoffed in unison. “You actually have to be around to share things with us.” Desire noted, “And to add on to what I said earlier, it’s been donkey's years since we’ve seen you.”

“Shut up!” Tolani rolled her eyes, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. It felt good to have banter like this. This was what making friends and building relationships looked and felt like. The only other person she felt like this around was Shawn and while she liked having banter with him, she knew that she couldn’t rely on that alone. She needed her own friends, people she could joke around with and be herself around.

“Oh, I was going to tell you!” Nicole screamed startling everyone at the table. “You know how you were flirting with Shawn Mendes that night?” For the second time in less than an hour, Tolani’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. “Yeah...” she said trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible.

“Apparently he was seen riding around with a girl in his car.” When the words hit homeTolani’s stomach dropped and she was flooded with numerous emotions, the primary ones being anger and jealousy that Shawn was with someone else. "What?!” Her and Shawn were not involved romantically and he had a right to do whatever he wanted. Tolani knew that but she couldn’t deny that the feelings were there. “When?” she asked with trepidation.

“A few days ago, here I’ll show you the photo.” Nicole took her phone out of her bag, it took a few seconds for her to pull up the photo but those seconds felt like hours. Eventually, she turned her phone around and showed everyone the photo in question. When she saw the photo, Tolani was immediately filled with relief, but that feeling was then taken over by a new one, dread. The photo Nicole was talking about, was a photo of the two of them when they were out driving, but you couldn’t tell it was her due to the angle of the photo. The comments under the photo were full of conjecture. Everyone wanted to know who the girl was. Some speculated that the girl in the photo was someone on his team, others were sure Shawn had a girlfriend, while others stated that she was just a friend. And some people were certain they knew who it was and kept name-dropping her.

The saving grace was that no one had mentioned her name. ‘Hopefully, everyone has moved on from me.’ Tolani thought making a mental note to check her Instagram comment section and DMs that she’d been purposefully ignoring.

“This is from a fan account.” Kyle noted, “You follow Shawn Mendes fan accounts?”

Nicole nodded “It’s all over social media. Shawn is notoriously single and whenever he’s with a girl, the internet goes wild. That being said, I’m a huge fan. I’m actually seeing him in a few weeks.” She then turned to Tolani “You should come with me!”

“I don’t knowww” Tolani shrugged dragging her words. “Won’t it be sold out?“ “I’m sure we’ll figure something out. Maybe you’ll run into him again.” Nicole winked, referencing their initial meeting. “Still can’t believe that happened.” Tolani felt her cheeks warming. “Yeah, it would be crazy to see him again after that night.” She hadn’t told her friends about the two separate times she’d met Shawn. She wracked her brain for anything she could use to change the topic of conversation and was eternally grateful when her phone beeped letting her know she had to leave for a seminar starting 10 minutes. “Sorry guys, I’ve got to go, I have a seminar on microeconomics in 10.” ‘Saved by the bell.’ she thought as she picked up her bag and walked away.

——————————————————————————————-

Tolani walked into her first seminar of the school year feeling a little nervous. Lectures were easy to manoeuvre, you sat there in silence and left when it was over. Seminars were different. As far as she knew they were much smaller groups that encouraged talking. This was where she struggled. Tolani was the kind of person who only spoke when she was comfortable and there was no way she was comfortable enough to speak freely in a room filled with people she didn’t know. These were the times she wished she had a friend she could go with, alas none of the friends she did have did the same degree as her. So she sat in the back row, hoping that the class would go by without consequence and she could go about her business.

A little while later a woman walked into the room and stood by the board. “Hi my name is Kirsty Morten, but you guys can call me Kirsty and I’m going to be your seminar tutor.” she was a younger woman, much younger than Tolani anticipated, with kind eyes and a warm smile. “Okay so before we dive into microeconomics and what that is, I’m going to go over the register and try to put some names to the faces. Okay?” Her statement was met with an unenthusiastic “okay” from everyone in the room.

Kirsty then proceeded to read out the names on the register without consequence until she came to Tolani’s name. “Oh, we’ve got a hard one. Okay. Umm. Toh- Tow- Wow this is hard to pronounce.”

“I usually go by T” Tolani’s voice rang out from the back of the room. She felt everyone’s eyes on her as Kirsty said “That’s so much easier to pronounce.” ‘I’m sure it is’ she thought mentally rolling her eyes. She knew that her name being butchered was to be expected but it didn’t make it any less jarring or cringy.

Tolani zoned out while Kirsty read out more names, that was until she heard a name she was familiar with. Her head snapped up when she heard Kirsty’s interpretation of the name. “Oh, we’ve got another difficult name here.” she chuckled nervously “Tow- uh- Toh- wow.” “Tomiwa.” he said deadpan, clearly displeased by the situation.

She scanned the room to see where the voice came from. Her eyes landed on a fade in the middle of the room, 3 rows ahead of her and even though she couldn’t see him, she felt a kinship with him. Having someone butcher your name was not fun.

The rest of the class went by without incident, it was also incredibly boring. Introduction to Microeconomics was just that, learning about Supply and Demand and Consumer Behaviour, all the things she’d learnt about already. That meant she spent most of her time staring into space, so much so that she didn’t notice when class was over till she felt someone tap her on her shoulder. Tolani turned to find Tomiwa smiling at her, she knew it was him because she recognised his hair. He was the only one in their class with a fade so it was definitely him.

“Hi T” his voice was husky, his accent familiar. It was a lot like hers but lighter as if it was fading. “Hi. Tomiwa right?” He smiled when she pronounced his name the right way. “You don’t know how good it feels to hear someone other than my immediate family and a few friends pronounce my name correctly.”

“I know what you mean. That’s why I just go by T. It’s so much easier than having people try to pronounce your name and fail woefully.” She hadn’t told anyone why she introduced herself as T and it felt good to have someone who understood the sentiment.

“What does T mean?” he asked.

“Tolani.”

“Tolani.” he repeated nodding his head. “Tolani and Tomiwa, T & T. Now we have to be friends, I mean we're both Yoruba and the first letter of our names are the same, it’s in the constitution.” “Slow your roll.” Tolani laughed holding up her hand. “You haven’t passed the test yet. I have numerous questions.” “Oh shit! There’s a test. Alright then.”

A few minutes later the two of them were seated on one of the many conveniently placed park benches littered on the York University campus. “Are you from Lagos?” Tolani asked placing her backpack by her feet.

“I am, but I moved here a few years ago just before high school and haven’t been back since. What about you?”

“Born and raised all my life. I only moved here just before school started.” she paused “Do you miss it?”

“Lagos?” he asked, there was a touch of sadness in his voice. “Yeah, I do. I love living in Toronto don't get me wrong, but there’s no place like home you know?” When Tolani nodded he continued “It’s hard to explain but there's something about living in Lagos. There’s this indescribable energy, almost like a sense of-”

“Chaos.” they said in unison.

“Exactly!!” Tomiwa cheered. “You get it.”

“I had to describe what Lagos was like, to someone who’s never been there and I struggled. It’s so hard to accurately describe. You have to go there and see it to understand.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me, I get it.”

“It’s nice to talk to someone that does.” Even though they’d just met, Tolani felt a connection with Tomiwa. She’d felt out of place since she’d arrived in Toronto and it felt really good to talk to someone who understood where she was coming from.

“Okay. I have a serious question. Where can I get Nigerian food cause it’s been a hot minute since I’ve eaten Jollof rice and I need it.”

“You can’t make it?” Tomiwa said with a raised eyebrow and a sceptical tone.

“I can!” Tolani replied sounding defensive, her Jollof rice was amazing if she did say so herself. “It’s just that it takes a while and I live with other people in a pretty crowded kitchen soo.”

“Fair enough. There a restaurant called Mamaland on Lansdowne Ave. Their food is amazing. We should go some time.”

“Yes please!”

“And if you ever want to make it, you can always come round to mine.” He gave her a small smile.

“One day I’ll take you up on that offer.” Even though his invitation was definitely on the forward side, Tolani appreciated the offer and stored it away. “Emphasis on ‘one day’ though,” she added.

“So can we consider ourselves friends now.?”

“Like is said” Tolani replied with a smirk “There’s a test.”

“Hit me”

—————————————————————————————

“I can’t believe you have never been to EatDrinkFestival* you’re cancelled!” Tolani exclaimed, shock evident on her face. “How can I be cancelled for that!” Tomiwa rolled his eyes at her. “Cause I said so.” Tolani fired back. The two looked at each other before laughing. They were currently walking out of their microeconomic seminar. They’d been spending a lot of time together since they met, having coffee together before class and even sat next to each other. It felt really good to finally have someone Tolani could truly call her friend. She considered Desire and Nicole friends but there was a disconnect there, while Tomiwa understood her from the jump. It felt like they’d been friends for years rather than a week.

“I just never got around to going before I moved.” Tomiwa shrugged. “It’s amazing!” Tolani replied. “You get to go and try so much incredible food. I’ve gone the last few years and had a great time.” There was a sense of sudden melancholy in her voice. She didn’t know when she would go home next, she hadn't talked about it with her parents. The thought of not going home for a while made her sad.

“I’m sure there’s a food festival in Toronto we could go to.”

Tolani looked at her friend and snapped out of her funk. “True, even though it won’t be the same, it’s bound to be amazing.”

Before Tomiwa could reply her phone rang the name on the screen making her smile. ‘Shawn’

“I’ve got to go.” Tolani started gathering her things. “My mum is calling.” That was the second time she’d lied to someone where Shawn was concerned and while she did feel bad about lying, there was a part of her that felt like the lies were warranted. It had been over a week she’d seen him, and communication between the two of them had been pretty sparse and seeing a call from him was a welcome surprise.

“Hi Shawn.” “Hi honey.” his voice sounded as in her ear as melodic as ever. As if she needed a reminder that even Shawn Mendes’ voice was attractive. “Honey? That’s new.” she thought. “So we’ve graduated from texts to phone calls now?”

“I mean we’ve shared music. We’re basically married.”

Tolani couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Speaking of music, how’s the playlist?” She’d been updating it constantly, adding more songs that she thought he would like.

“No word of a lie, I’ve pushed it on all of my friends. I can’t stop listening to it.” That was hard to imagine Shawn and his friends dancing to any of the songs in the playlist, seeing as Shawn was so against dancing as a whole. Tolani couldn’t deny that it would be hilarious and she would willingly pay money to see Shawn and his friends attempt to dance to a Davido song. “Yeah, Afrobeat has that effect on people.” she shrugged even though he couldn’t see it. “As much as I like our talks and you know I do, is there a reason for this phone call?”

“How about I just wanted to hear your voice?” Even though she couldn’t see him, she could tell that he was smirking. Tolani felt her cheeks getting warm. “Thank you Shawn, but I’m pretty sure that’s not why you called me.”

“You’re half right. I really did want to hear your voice, but I also wanted to invite you to a party I’m having on Friday night.”

“Oooh, a party.” Friday night that was two days from now.

“Whenever I’m home I like having a few people over at my place just to hang out. Nothing too crazy. Would you like to come?” Two words struck a chord with her, ‘My place’ meaning his house. If she went, she would be at his house. In his space. Her heart started beating quicker at the thought of being in his house. He was speaking but the words had blended into white noise in her ear until she heard the words “If you want.” which snapped her out of her reverie.

“Huh?”

“I said you could bring some friends I’ve if you want?” The thought of her friends being in the same space as him for an extended period of time stressed her out further, but she couldn't deny that the idea wasn’t a bad one. Tolani looked up at the sky considering the question until an idea popped into her head. “I’d love to bring a friend.” “Great!” Shawm sounded excited which in turn made her excited. “See you on Friday. Bye honey.” “Bye Shawn.”

She cut off the call and turned to Tomiwa, “How would you like to go to a party on Friday?”

——————————————————————————————-

By the time Friday had rolled around, Tolani was nervous. She didn’t know what to wear, so she decided on a black tank top and blue ripped jeans with a dark red lip, emulating a look she had on when they met.

Shawn had texted her his address and told her to come over at 9 o’clock. It was 8:45 and she was in an uber heading towards downtown Toronto. She made polite conversation with Tomiwa in the back but her mind wasn’t fully there. She was thinking about Shawn. Even though it had only been a week since she’d seen him, she was nervous to see him again, especially when she took into account the fact that she would be on his turf. Every time they’d met it had been on slightly neutral territory, even when she was in his car she felt comfortable, but being in someone’s home and car were not the same thing. She also had to take into account the fact that he would be with his friends and people had a tendency to act differently around their friends and she hoped that Shawn wasn’t like that.

Shawn lived in an apartment building close to the entertainment district. ‘Fitting,’ Tolani thought as she got out of the uber. Her and Tomiwa walked into the building and greeted the concierge and let him know that they were headed to Shawn’s apartment on the top floor. In the elevator, Tolani could hear her heart in her ears. She felt like she was going to throw up. She knew that there was no reason to feel that way but she couldn't help it.

By the time they got to Shawn's door, they could hear music, evidence that people were already there. When they got to Shawn’s door, she heard Tomiwa whistle under his breath, clearly impressed by what he’d seen of Shawn’s building. Tolani knocked on the door and they waited. While they waited, a thought crossed her mind, Tomiwa didn't know that the friend she was coming to see. He may be Shawn to her but he was still Shawn Mendes uber-famous pop star to everyone else and that was something she probably should have taken into consideration when she invited him. They waited outside and when there was no response, Tolani knocked on the door, louder than before, this time they only had to wait for a few seconds before the door opened and Shawn filled the doorway.

One thing Tolani had learnt in the short time she’d known Shawn was that he was a smiley person, that was why she wasn’t surprised when he beamed at her. He looked as gorgeous as ever in a black shirt, jeans and Chelsea boots. He wasn't even trying and he looked good. “T! I’m so glad you’re here!” he exclaimed, as he pulled her into a hug, ‘Great.’ Tolani thought, ‘He even smells good.’ They hugged for a few seconds even though it felt like it was closer to a minute when they broke apart. Tolani turned and indicated to Tomiwa and introduced him. “Shawn, this is my friend Tomiwa, Tomiwa this is Shawn.” It was then that Shawn turned to acknowledge her guest a look flashing across his features so fast she couldn’t decipher what it was. “Hi. Thanks for coming.” he said indicating that they should both go inside.

Walking into Shawn’s apartment felt like taking a look into Shawn’s mind. It was spacious, which in and of itself wasn’t surprising when she considered where he lived and how much it probably cost. He had a piano tucked into the corner and next to it was a guitar rack that held 5 guitars which again was not surprising. Apart from that, it was a pretty standard apartment, anyone could have lived there, the colour palette was pretty neutral with shades of blue and grey scattered around, but there were elements that were obviously Shawn. He had photos that she assumed were his family as well as photos of friends that she could recognise in the room. The thing that did surprise her was his view. Shawn had a balcony with a stunning view of the Toronto skyline. She stared at it for a few seconds before the noise in the room pulled her back. It sounded like a Post Malone song.

Tolani looked around and was catapulted back to the night she met Shawn. She’d awkward and out of place with her housemates and that was how she felt surrounded by Shawn’s friends. There were easily 50 people in the room and even though that number wasn’t very high, it was enough to make her feel uneasy. She knew that bringing a friend she was comfortable around was the right move.

The two got drinks and found a quiet corner to sit on Shawn’s huge white couch, Tolani with a coke and Tomiwa with a Corona. “You didn’t tell me you knew Shawn Mendes.” he stated looking at her with a shocked look on his face. Tolani took a sip of her drink and wished that she had something stronger. “Umm, yeah we met a while ago.” “How?” “We met at a coffee shop.” It wasn’t a total lie, they had met at a coffee shop, albeit a few days after they met at the bar but she didn’t feel like that part was relevant.

“That must have been a chance encounter, especially for you guys to be so close that he invited you to his house parties.” Before Tolani could answer she heard Shawn’s voice from across the room.

“T!” Shawn yelled over the sound of the music, “There are some people I want you to meet.” Tolani looked over to her friend who waved her off. “Go and mingle I’ll be fine.” She walked over toward the kitchen, it was a state of the art kitchen with an electric hob and an island that Shawn was leaning on. As she entered the space Tolani couldn’t help but think about how easy it would be to cook in that kind of kitchen and she wondered how often Shawn used it. “Here she is.” he said indicating to 3 of his friends when she was within earshot.

“Guys this is T. T this is, Brian and Jon. The one whose face is obscured by the camera is Connor.” “Hi.” Tolani waved somewhat awkwardly. “So you’re T, we’ve heard so much about .” Brain announced. He was almost as tall as Shawn and had red hair and mischievous eyes. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you.” Jon added. Much like Shawn, he had eyes that seemed to smile at her and she instantly felt comfortable around him.

The only person who hadn’t spoken was Connor. He looked like he was half paying attention to what was being said as he was more engrossed in the footage he had recorded. Connor was stunning he easily could’ve been a model and Tolani wouldn’t have been surprised if he was, he just had one of those faces.

“Shawn hasn’t stopped talking about you.” Brian teased at which point Connor nodded. Tolani turned to Shawn with a raised eyebrow and saw him blushing profusely.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah! Every single day since the day you met.” She turned back to Shawn who had gone an even deeper shade of red. “Anyway!” Shawn interjected in an attempt to change the conversation. “T is the one who made that really sick playlist I’ve been listening to!”

“I knew Shawn didn’t make that playlist on his own! He has good taste in music but its not that good!” Jon quipped. “Thanks” Tolani beamed, “I just added a bunch of songs from back home that I thought he would like.”

“And where is home?”

“I’m from Lagos in Nigeria. Currently in Toronto for school.”

“Really? I don’t know anyone from Nigeria.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you would.” Tolani laughed.

The four of them talked with Brian telling stories from his and Shawn’s friendship. They’d been friends since they were kids and seeing them like that made Tolani miss her childhood friend Folasade. She made a note to call her as they hadn’t spoken in a while.

While she was talking to Jon about his music, she heard familiar lyrics that put a smile on her face.

“She take my money when I’m in need, Yeah she’s a triflin’ friend indeed. Oh, she’s a gold digger, way over town that digs on me.”

She looked at Shawn and he also had a smirk on his face and she knew that he remembered the night they met where they had argued about what Kanye album was the best. “Don’t start with me.” she warned. “Only because you know that you’re wrong.” he stated, clearly trying to bait her.

Tolani rolled her eyes at him and decided to follow along with the song. By the time she got to the second verse, everyone in the room was screaming the lyrics.

“If you ain’t no punk, holla “We want prenup! We want prenup!” (Yeah!)”

After the song ended Tolani decided to switch her drink to something stronger. She noticed that Shawn had Hennesy and poured a shot for herself then mixed it with coke. It was a safe bet as far as drinks were concerned and she had a feeling she would need it tonight.

Shawn came up beside her. “Having fun?” She looked up at him and gave him a small nod. “Where is your friend?” “Not sure. Probably socialising which is more than I can say for me” she replied lifting the red solo cup to her mouth, the beaded bracelets on her wrists jiggling with the motion.

“You talked to my friends and now you’re talking to me, I’d say that counts as socialising.”

“Look at me being a social butterfly.” Tolani replied, holding the rim of the cup in her between her teeth.

She was about to ask him why he had invited her when the song changed and all her thought skid to a halt. A Burna Boy song was playing, more specifically, it was her favourite Burna Boy song. He was playing one of her favourite songs at his party filled with people who had no idea what song it was. She looked around and noticed that there were some confused expressions but for the most part, everyone seemed to like the song.

Tolani whirled to face Shawn her mouth agape. “You’re playing Burna Boy right now!” He smiled at her and nodded. “I am” “You mean to tell me that Shawn Mendes is playing Nigerian music at his party right now?!”

“Yes he is.”

Of all the things that she had expected, this was not one of them. She wanted to say something but someone one the other side of the room called him. He looked at her apologetically before walking off to see what the person needed, clearly in host mode.

Tolani stayed where she was swaying from side to side enjoying the music that she had introduced him to. When the song ended and another one started, Tomiwa came up to her looking just as energetic as she felt. “Shawn Mendes listens to Nigerian music?” “Apparently so!”

“Okay, we have to dance. Can you shaku shaku?”**

Tolani gave him a look that said “You have to be joking” and started dancing, in a split second Tomiwa joined her, the two of them perfectly in sync. Within seconds there was a crowd of people around them, trying to imitate the dance but failing woefully. Brian and Jon had asked Tolani to teach them and she tried but it wasn’t a success. She couldn’t stop laughing watching Brian flail his hands about completely offbeat. Jon was better nailing the footwork but he was having trouble following the song, clearly paying too much attention to what he was doing rather than the song that was playing.

Shawn had come back and was watching them a smile on his face, but the look he had on his face when he opened the door was back and just like before, it was gone before she could pick up on what it was.

Tolani walked up to him and stared up at him, looking him in the eye, “Do you want to dance?” she asked. “I already told you, I hate dancing.” he chuckled. “It doesn’t have to be that kind of dance.” she pointed over her shoulder indicating to Tomiwa who was now attempting to teach everyone another dance that clearly wasn’t working.

“Nope. I hate any kind of dancing.” he shook his head. “Fair enough.” Tolani shrugged. “Can I talk to you outside?” “Sure.” Before heading to the balcony, they stopped by the kitchen where the drinks were situated. Shawn refilled her drink and grabbed another Corona, then they made their way outside. The view from inside Shawn’s apartment had nothing on the view from the outside.

“Wow.”

“It really is an incredible view.”

“Are you used to it?”

“Truthfully? I don’t think so. I’m barely home, so when I do come home, the view takes my breath away.” he sounded wistful, probably because he was thinking about all the travel he had done and was yet to do.

“And that’s CN tower?” Tolani pointed to the sizeable structure that dominated the Toronto skyline. “Yeah it is.” he nodded. “I think it’s amazing that you’re learning about my city.” “Well it’s my city now too.” she quipped.

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, Shawn spoke “I know asked before but I’ll ask again, having fun?” She nodded again more enthusiastically than before. The change in music had upped her mood. “I am. More so because you played music from my playlist.” she paused. “That- that was really thoughtful.”

“I am super thoughtful.” he declared wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Shawn is every conversation we have going to involve your ego.?” she teased rolling her eyes playfully. “No, but I like fucking with you.” “I can tell.” she smirked.

The silence returned but this time it was different, there was an energy in the air that wasn’t there before, it was almost tangible. Shawn took a step closer to her, and her breath hitched. “T, I know I’m probably being really presumptuous right now but I wanted to tell you that I really like you.” his voice had dropped an octave and sounded huskier than usual. Tolani could feel her cheeks warming, and could’ve sworn she could hear heartbeat pick up. He was closer than he had ever been and she didn’t want him to move away. “I really like you too.” she replied. He saw a smile break out on his face as he leaned forward. Tolani’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned up to meet him halfway, she could feel his breath on her face as they closed the distance between them.

Before their lips touched she heard her name “Tolani!” Tomiwa’s voice rang out snapping them back to reality. She turned to see him crossing the threshold onto the balcony. Tolani felt her face warm and she backed away from Shawn who was looking everywhere but her.

“Hey Tolani! Hey Shawn!” Tomiwa waved clearly more than a tipsy and unaware that he had just interrupted something. “Hi Tomiwa.” Tolani said, willing her heart rate to slow down. “Great party man.” he turned to Shawn who clearly unamused but was hiding it under a mask of calm. “Thanks.” Shawn replied.

At that moment, Tolani felt like she needed to leave. Her mind was running in different directions and she knew she couldn’t sort through her thoughts with Shawn in close proximity. She turned to him and gave him an apologetic smile. “I think it’s time for me to go.” her voice sounding a lot smaller than it did prior to the interruption She saw the look on his face as he nodded giving her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I understand.”

During the car ride, Tolani couldn’t help but think about what had happened on the balcony. ‘What would have happened if Tomiwa hadn’t walked out’. Even though she was largely disappointed by the distraction, there was a part of her that was a little relieved. She knew how she felt about Shawn and was positive that he felt the same way but there was something that was stopping her from facing her feelings head-on.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and sent Shawn a text

Tolani: Thanks so much for an amazing night. I had a lot of fun. Sorry about the interruption. Maybe next time?

She locked her phone and put it back in her pocket without checking to see if he had replied.

Taglist

@justbeingoceana @rulerofnocountry @dazedshawnm @speakingofmari

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*The EatDrinkFestival is a food festival held in Lagos every year in December. It’s amazing!

** Shaku Shaku is a dance really popular in Nigeria and Africa as a whole.

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes x poc #fan fic #fanfic #fan fiction #My writing #shawn mendes x woc

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not-close-to-straight · 5 years

Text

The Stories We Write (Four)

TSWW MASTERLIST HERE

**************************

“Stevie.” Bucky reached out with one hand, flailing about until he caught the seam of Steve’s pants as he passed by. “Stevie, who’s Yoolyn?”

“I dunno Buck.” Steve switched directions the second Bucky tugged at him, more than willing to all but collapse into Bucky’s arms, stretching out on top of him and puckering his lips for a kiss. “Who’s Yoolyn?”

“Hi.” Bucky said softly, more than happy to give Steve the kiss he wanted. “But I’m actually asking. Do you know who Yoolyn is? The name keeps coming up in this fic and I dunno who it’s supposed to be.”

“Is it a crossover fic?” Steve peered at Bucky’s tablet curiously. “Sometimes the X Men crossovers can get weird.”

“No it’s a crossover.” Bucky frowned at the screen. “The characters name is Yoolyn.”

“Bucky!” Steve’s eyes widened. “Are you reading— is that a threesome happening?? You and me and Yoolyn? BUCKY!”

“What?” Bucky defended. “It seemed harmless! We’ve talked about threesomes! Can’t hurt to read them right?”

“It certainly can hurt because that’s super weird.” He declared. “It’s weird that you’re reading about us having sex with some stranger. Why the hell—“ Steve cocked an eyebrow. “What does Yoolyn look like?”

“Dark hair and dark eyes and apparently we like their ass.” Bucky confirmed and grinned when Steve suddenly looked interested. “Yeah, I know. Definitely our type and that’s why I wanted to read it. But I gotta say, having the name Yoolyn is throwing me off! Who is that?!”

“Let me see.” Steve scanned the fic for a few seconds. “This right here? Y/L/N?”

“Yeah. Yoolyn.”

“…have you googled it? I feel like Y/L/N isn’t pronounced Yoolyn.”

“Well what else it could be!?” Bucky wrinkled his nose. “And also? I’m a little shy to google after the whole mpreg incident.”

“Understandable. Yikes.” Steve thought for a minute. “Well you could google which character is named Yoolyn? That way we’ll get some context without turning up anything scary?”

“Okay.” Bucky leaned in for another kiss. “I’ll let you know what I find.”

“I bet it’s an X men.” Steve said confidently. “Yoolyn totally sounds like an X men name.”

*********************

********************

Bucky rolled up a magazine and thwapped Steve on the side of the head as hard as he could, scowling down at his boyfriend as Steve sputtered hot chocolate everywhere.

“Bucky! What the hell?”

“It’s not Yoolyn!” Bucky hissed. “It’s not Yoolyn at all! Yoolyn isn’t a real person! They aren’t an Xmen!”

“Okay, I’m not understanding why you’re so upset right now.” Steve snatched the magazine and tossed it away. “Or why the hell you beaned me with a magazine. What is wrong with you?”

“Do you know what a reader insert is?” Bucky gestured towards his tablet in what could only be consternation. “Do you!?”

“I think it’s fairly obvious that I don’t.”

“Well learn about it!” He dropped his tablet in Steve’s lap and stabbed a finger at the screen. “Read this. Read it.”

“Fine.” Steve cleared his throat and started reading out loud.

“Hi (Y/L/N)” Bucky slapped you on the back as he passed, but it was okay because Steve caught you when you fell.

“The fuck, Barnes.” you scowled.

“What?” he asked.

“I have a first name!” you shouted, crossing slender but strong arms over your bosom, smirking when Bucky’s eyes fell to where your breasts were now straining at your shirt. You might be pissed at him but that didn’t mean you couldn't tease him, right?

“Easy (Y/N).” Steve cut in, his own blue orbs trained on your more than bountiful breasts too. “Bucky don’t mean nothing by it.”

“I sure don’t doll.” Bucky winked charmingly and you went all gooey inside. “Just thought it was more professional to call you by your last name.”

“But we’re sleeping together.” you scowled again, trying to pretend you were still mad. “You can call me something besides (Y/L/N).”

“Well let me make it up to you.” Bucky backed you to the wall and you moaned when his hot stick rubbed into your thigh, an intimate reminder of how he’d taken you so passionately last night, your insides quivering with dewy arousal--

“What in the fuck am I reading?” Steve made a face. “What is this?”

“It’s called a reader insert.” Bucky supplied helpfully. “Apparently Yoolyn? Not Yoolyn. It’s ‘your last name’.”

“My last name?” Blankly, Steve obviously not getting the point.

“Yeah, so you don’t read it like, ‘Hey Yoolyn!’ like I was doing.” Bucky explained, and then added, “You know, like a dumbass? It’s ‘Hey, Barnes’ because Barnes is my last name.”

“Oh.” Steve’s expression cleared. “OH! Reader insert. The writer putting themselves into the story, like they are a part of our every day life.”

“Exactly.”

“And um--” Steve looked back at the fic. “Do all of them have you pushing your hot stick into their thigh or…?”

“I dunno, seems like a lot of them talk about your blue orbs.” Bucky shot back. “And don’t even get me started on dewy arousal.”

“And like, they know we’re gay right? So why does the reader have bosoms?”

“It’s not like we haven’t been with girls, Stevie.” Bucky countered. “I mean, we’re probably more like bisexual than gay, yeah? It’s not that far of a stretch for girls to write stuff about us.”

“Right, right, I know but--”

“And you’re one’ta talk about mentions of bosoms being weird. You got boobies bigger than Tasha, maybe it’s a guy reader who works on his pecs. Guys can have boobs, Steve, it’s the future now. These things happen.”

“Okay first of all.” Steve had to wait for Bucky to stop laughing at his own terrible joke before continuing. “First of all, please don’t call my pecs boobies--”

“Can I call them tiddy knockers?” A wicked smile. “Mebbe you’ll let me thrust wildly between them whilst wearing something scandalous and lacy?”

Steve sent him a look that was just shy of entirely disapproving in a fully Captain America way. “What the hell is wrong with you, Bucky? None of those things are happening.”

“I have been reading a lot of fics today, Stevie.” Bucky sighed. “Lots of them. Reader inserts are fascinating. The way people want to be a part of our lives is sorta… it’s sorta humbling.”

“Humbling.”

“Well yeah. I mean, blue orbs and velvet love stick aside--”

“VELVET WHAT?”

“-- I mean look at this one.” Bucky clicked back through his bookmarks until he found one for Steve to read. “Read this one. It’s a guy reader so no worries about errant bosoms waiting to jump out at you. And they don’t use the Yoolyn format, so it’s easier to get through. Read it.”

Steve grumbled under his breath, but shut up when Bucky budged up behind him on the couch and wrapped thick arms around his waist.

You woke to a light kiss on your nose, a brush of lashes on your cheek that could only be Bucky giving you butterfly kisses as the sun came up.

“You’re dumb.” you mutter and Bucky laughs quietly, the cool metal of his left arm curling tight around your waist to pull you closer. “And you have morning breath.”

“Super soldiers don’t get morning breath, sugar.” he argues, and covers your mouth in a longer kiss just to prove it. “See?”

“Damn it, you’re right.” You’re fighting a smile and Bucky kisses you again. “Super soldiers don’t have morning breath.”

“Don’t lie to him.” A warm, solid body presses up against you from behind, Steve’s voice morning-rough and growly in your ear. “It’s not some side effect of the serum, he snuck out of bed to brush his teeth so he’d be minty fresh.”

“It’s a side effect of the serum that you two are awake at this hour.” You try to hide a yawn in Bucky’s shoulder, but it turns into a shiver when Steve’s lips land on your neck, whisper soft over the dark colored hickey he’d left the night before.

“We’ll let you sleep.” he promises, tongue tracing a line around the shell of your ear. “Just wanted to say good morning.”

“You might let him sleep.” Bucky counters, and the hand resting at your waist falls to slide over your ass. “I fully intend on keeping you awake. Suns up, buns up baby doll.”

“Suns up, buns up!?” You shout with laughter, and Steve rolls away so he isn’t laughing right into your ear. “Bucky, no one says that!”

“I say it.” he argues and pulls you even closer, fitting a thick thigh between your legs and rocking against you purposefully. “Assume the position, sweetheart. Buns up. Let me get at that ass.”

“Oh my god.” Steve is back, pushing his own morning interest into your rear. “Baby, I promise that Bucky is more romantic than this. But when he’s horny…”

“He’s the only one that’s horny, huh?” you push your hips back into Steve playfully, then grind down onto Bucky’s thigh, and both the super soldiers groan in unison. “Well if it’s only Bucky who wants my buns up--”

“Aw, I want to play too.” Steve is mock pouting, and Bucky leans over to plant a solid kiss on his lips, murmuring something that you don’t catch, but that makes Steve laugh anyway.

It's more than a little unbelievable that you’re waking up in bed with Steve and Bucky. Just yesterday morning you had woken up alone, had gotten your coffee alone, had resigned yourself to yet another day pining over the two men you wanted most in the world-- two men that had each other, which meant that they wouldn’t want you.

And yet something had happened during just a regular movie night. A joke that had been a little more meaningful, Steve’s arm over the back of the couch lying just a little heavier on your shoulders, Bucky edging closer and closer as the movie went on. Hands had mixed in the popcorn bowl, a quiet but lewd comment made while you were licking the butter from your fingers, and turning to say something snarky to Steve had ended with your mouths pressed together.

It had happened quickly then, a kiss with Bucky when he turned you his way, Steve running his hands up your back, Bucky feeling up your thigh and wow it had been easy to fell into bed after that.

And now you were terrified that they would want another round for the morning and then disappear back into their own lives, leaving you pining and sad and dreaming of--

“You’re thinking too hard.” Steve interrupts your thoughts by pushing you gently but firmly back into the pillows. “What’s on your mind?”

“Um, nothing.” you lie, and those beautiful blue eyes darken in confusion.

“You’re lying.” he states. “What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now.” Bucky interrupts and you sort of definitely love him for it. “I’ll just have to give you something else to think about, huh?”

A hot mouth landing at your navel startles you, but whatever you were going to say next disappears as Steve covers your mouth in a kiss, a strong hand at your jaw, the other woven into Bucky’s hair and resolutely pushing him down your body until the feel of his tongue makes your vision white out.

They don’t have to know you already love them.

Just sex is fine for now.

“Wow.” Steve leaned his head back against Bucky’s shoulder. “That was-- that was pretty good.”

“Right?” Bucky dropped a kiss onto Steve’s ear. “And sorta sad, right? Like it really seems like they love us but don’t think we’ll love them, so they’re just going to sleep with us and hope that works? It’s sad.”

“It sort of is.” Steve checked the author’s name at the top of the page. “@youknowwhoIam. Is that someone we’ve read before?”

“Nah, I found them because another fic was listed as being inspired by them. They’re good, though, you know?”

“So we add reader inserts to the list of things we read now?”

“Uh maybe only reader inserts with male readers and no Yoolyn?” Bucky offered and Steve grinned up at him.

“What do you have against Yoolyn, Buck? Damn.”

“It’s difficult to read!” Bucky fussed. “Like my whole train of thought derails when I see it! Plus, they use weird words for sex. I feel like male readers don’t do that as much.”

“Yeah, quivering moist walls doesn’t really apply to guys butts, huh?”

“Captain America, the public would be horrified if they knew what a filthy mouth you have.” Bucky flicked Steve’s ear. “Also, never say quivering moist walls ever again, you understand?”

“I’ll say what I want, soldier, don’t you forget I outrank you.”

“Yes sir.”

“God, it’s so hot when you call me sir.”

“Yeah well don’t get used to it.”

“Have you ever actually said ‘suns up, buns up’?”

“Nah, but I gotta say, I’m looking forward to working that particular phrase into my every day conversations for sure.”

*******************

“Hey, don’t be like that.”

Bucky startled when you reached for his hand, linking your fingers with the silver ones and squeezing lightly.

“Uh hey.” he said lamely. “Sorry, I know we were supposed to leave but--”

“But you don’t want to go to the beach and are only going to make me happy?” You finish, and he flushes a dark red. “Bucky, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“You’ve been asking to go to beach for weeks now.” Bucky smooths his thumb over your bottom lip and you turn enough to kiss his palm. “Let’s just go. I’ll just… I’ll just wear a long sleeve.”

“Don’t.” You shake your head, heart breaking over the anxiety and nervousness in Bucky’s eyes. “Bucky, I think every bit of you is perfect, alright? Even your arm, even the scars, all of you.”

“Baby--”

“I’ve got scars.” you remind him, and his brow furrows at the reminder. “I’ve got shitty scars too, but I’m still going to go and people are probably going to look but I won’t care, you know why?”

“Because I’m scarred worse?” Bucky says bleakly and you cluck your tongue in annoyance.

“No, Bucky-bear. I won’t care because the only person I care about looking at me is you and Steve. And trust me, when you see my new speedo? You will ONLY be looking at me. And maybe Steve because I mean come on, who wouldn't look at that guy?”

Bucky finally smiles a little bit. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“Scars are just a reminder that we survived.” you shrug and lean in for a real kiss. “You survived and I survived, and somehow our big blonde idiot has survived everything too. That’s all.”

“Heya, Soldier.” Tony whistled and waved at Bucky and he looked up from the fic with a big smile. “Where’s Big and Blonde?”

“Out running with Sam again.” Bucky put his phone away and patted the couch next to him so Tony would sit. “Sam’s gotten real fast but Steve still feels safe slanging insults and snark as he passes him, so they keep doing it.”

He patted the couch again, raising his eyebrows invitingly and hoping Tony took the hint.

Steve had given him the go ahead to try and flirt with Tony if the right moment came along, providing Bucky didn’t quote fan fiction at the beautiful brunette and that a first kiss didn’t happen without Steve being present.

Steve had the same set of rules, but Bucky had included an extra guideline of no wrestling style flirting since Steve was in charge of the team's fitness regime and definitely wasn’t above trying to get handsy during a workout.

Steve wouldn’t use a headlock as foreplay and Bucky wouldn’t quote fan fiction and hopefully Tony would fall sway to their charms.

“You look tired.” Bucky explained when Tony only looked at him in confusion. “Come sit down, take a load off. I’m comfier than I look, I promise.”

“Comfier than you look.” Tony repeated, and maybe Bucky was reading too much into it, but the smile Tony gave him looked a little bit nervous and a whole lot excited. “Yeah?”

“Come here.” Bucky motioned for him again, and Tony managed a chuckle as he fell back onto the cushions.

“One of these days Sam’s gonna bring a dart gun and tranq Steve’s All American ass if he doesn’t let up.” He said confidently, and Bucky didn’t comment on the wobble in his voice. “Steve’s gonna wake up chained to a tree while Sam runs laps around him screaming on your left or something.”

“Aw I hope I’m there to take a picture.” Tony burst out laughing then, and Bucky smiled as he listened. Damn Tony had a great laugh. “Or at least there to watch Steve panic for a second before he remembers he can break out of handcuffs.”

“Hmm, Steve breaking out of handcuffs.” Tony sounded interested and Bucky’s eyebrows rose. “So tell me, if Spangles and Sammy are out running, what are you doing? I’ve seen you on your phone more in the last few weeks than I ever have. Find anything good?”

“Um--” Bucky coughed loudly. “I uh-- reading. Did you know there’s books online? Just blew my mind, whew. All them books. Right there online. Amazing.”

“Oh you downloaded the Kindle app?” Tony’s eyes widened the tiniest bit when Bucky put his arm along the back of the couch. “Yeah, that’s good stuff. I can get you an e-reader if you want? Who’s your favorite author? Or do you have a favorite genre? I can recommend a few things.”

“I don’t… have one?” Bucky hedged, and curled his fingers just a little bit to encourage Tony closer. “I’ve mostly been reading independent authors. Self published books, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, good for you.” Tony leaned in, then leaned in a little closer, and Bucky blew out a quiet sigh of relief when Tony was finally tucked under his arm, pressed right up against his body. “Um, independent authors definitely need support. Most mainstream literature is all the same, the independent or self published authors have some really great work though.”

“Yeah, I’ve read some pretty great things.” Bucky agreed, and tried to discreetly sniff at Tony’s head. All the fan fics talked about smelling someone’s hair and damn they were right. Tony smelled like something woodsy and maybe pine and--

“Are you smelling my hair?” Tony started to sit up, and Bucky hushed him quickly, pulling him back down.

“Uh nope, not ever. Definitely not doing that, because that’s ridiculous.” Bucky was glad Tony couldn’t see his bright red face. “Why are you so tired, honey?”

“Uh--” Tony tensed for a second and Bucky held his breath, hoping Tony wouldn’t pull away just because he’d been a dumbass and called him honey. “I’ve been in the lab working on a new suit.” he finally finished, relaxing back into Bucky’s hold. “Being picky about it, probably but I’m the one that has to fly it so it’s gotta be perfect right?”

“Oh sure thing, definitely has to be perfect. Makes sense to me.” Bucky lay a very careful hand at Tony’s back, and when the genius only sighed and budged closer, he started running his fingers up and down, over and around, drawing nonsensical patterns until Tony’s breathing started to slow down.

“You are comfier than you look.” The words were muffled into Bucky’s shoulder, Tony’s arm winding carefully around his waist. “This okay?”

“Sure thing, sweet thing.” Bucky whispered and held Tony just a little bit tighter. “Sure thing.”

********************

Steve found them almost an hour later and his eyes widened when he saw Tony snoring quietly, curled tight into Bucky’s side. “Um… what?”

“He was tired.” Bucky knew his smile was a little goofy. “So he’s napping on me.”

“I want to sit too.” Steve kicked his shoes off and sat himself on the other end of the couch, lifting Tony’s feet into his lap. “How long has he been asleep?”

“I dunno, forty five minutes?”

“Lucky.”

“Tell me about it.”

Tony stirred then, blinking up at Bucky in sleepy confusion, then down at Steve with something like alarm. “What’s going on?”

“You’re napping.” Steve said calmly. “And I just got here so me and Bucky were talking. Go back to sleep, Tony. We aren’t going anywhere.”

“I’ll just go sleep upstairs.” Tony pulled his feet from Steve’s lap with an embarrassed smile and got to his feet stiffly. “Sorry for sleeping so long on you, Bucky bear. See you guys a little bit later.”

“No, Tony it's--”

“You don’t have to--”

“Really it’s totally--”

“Tony, wait--”

The elevator to the penthouse chimed and then whooshed as it went up to the top floor and Steve winced apologetically. “Sorry about that Buck. Didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Bucky scooted over until he could kiss Steve hello. “Small steps, right? It was super sweet that he fell asleep on me, he’ll get used to us.”

Distracted by thoughts of Tony, and then by some hands on time with Steve, it wasn’t until they were in bed that night that Bucky realized Tony had called him Bucky Bear.

“Stevie.” he whispered into the dark. “You awake?”

“No.”

“Okay good.” He flipped on a lamp, and Steve muttered a curse as he hid beneath a pillow. “Stevie, has Tony ever called me Bucky Bear?”

“Not that I can remember, but probably.” Steve groaned over the light. “He’s got nicknames for everyone, you know? He’s got at least a dozen that revolve around Patriotism just for me, I’m sure he’s got a few for you.”

“Right.” Bucky nodded slowly. “I’m sure that's all it is. A nickname. Right.”

“Right. Now turn the fucking lamp off so I can go to sleep.”

************************

“I’ve got you.” Steve’s breath is hot in your ear and it seems like such a simple thing, but you’re so overwhelmed that it still makes you shiver. “Ah, baby, I’ve got you.”

He’s strong and solid at your back, holding you securely on his lap and against his chest even as Bucky spreads your legs further open, hooking your thighs over Steve’s knees so he can see all of you.

“Fuck.” You whimper, and Steve’s teeth close over your ear lobe, tugging lightly to distract you from the way Bucky is just staring at you.

“Look how smooth you are.” he whispers. “You’re so pretty for me, sweet thing, holy shit.”

If you had a drop of blood left anywhere above your waist, you’d blush at such blatant perusal, but you’d spent an entire day getting ready for this, shaving and trimming and waxing until you were clean and smooth and ready for Bucky to do-- to do this.

“I can’t wait to taste you.” he rumbles and when a thick finger presses experimentally at your entrance, you nearly come off Steve’s lap.

“I’ve got you.” Steve is hard against your lower back, his cock thick and heavy where it presses into you, but his hands are gentle, loving as they smooth up your stomach to your chest, teasing and plucking at your nipples, moving back down to your hips to hold you still. “I’ve got you baby, relax, relax.”

You’re stiff, fighting for breath, for some shred of sanity as Bucky buries his nose in your thigh and breaths in deep.

“Hey hey.” Steve is still talking to you. “Baby, breathe out and relax. I’m strong enough to hold you, strong enough to keep you together.”

“Oh.” you breath out shakily and make a concentrated effort to settle down, letting your body go pliant in his arms. “I--I--”

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweet thing.” Bucky promises, and his tongue flicks out against your rim, a low moan when he tastes you. “Want you coming apart for me, want you screaming my name, and coming all over Stevie and--”

“Fuck.” Steve grinds up into you, his cock leaking and throbbing, burning a line into your skin. “Fuck that’s so hot. Can’t wait to see you come, baby. Gonna be so pretty.”

“Ready?” Bucky’s smile is wicked and knowing, but you know he wouldn’t even touch you without permission, so you gather your scattered thoughts for long enough to nod.

“Thank you.” he leans up and kisses you hungrily. “I love you.”

“We love you.” Steve corrects, and you laugh a little when Steve shoves Bucky’s head back down. “Now get busy.”

“Stevie.” Bucky hissed in his ear and Steve jumped. “You are definitely NSFW right now, take care of that before Tony comes in to watch a movie with us or things are going to get awkward.”

“Yikes.” Steve crossed his legs in embarrassment when he realized his situation was showing in his pajama pants. “Sorry. Got distracted reading.”

“Stop reading smut on movie night!” Bucky scolded. “For fucks sake, Steve have some self respect.”

Later, as Tony was snuggled between the both of them, knees touching theirs, teasing them in turn, Steve pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text.

To Bucky: Babe. Do you call Tony sweet thing?

From Bucky: Ummmm I did the other day when he fell asleep on me, why?

From Steve: No reason. Just curious.

From Bucky: Fan fiction is making you weird

From Steve: You’re one to talk. I heard you trying to growl the other day because the fan fics say it's sexy

From Bucky: Touche

************************

“Please take the serum.” Steve’s hands are shaking as he holds yours, pressing the bottle against your palm. “Sweetheart, please. Please take the serum. There is no reason why you have to go through this.”

“I don’t want to take it.” You think you sound strong, but a tear tracks down Steve’s cheek and you know you didn’t sound as strong as you meant to. “I’ve lived my life, Steve. Lived it and loved it and I don’t need more.”

“That’s not fair!” Steve shouts and Bucky curses at him when you jump. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry but that’s not fair.” he shakes his head, gathers you closer. “Why should we say good bye when we don’t have to? That’s not fair to you and it’s not-- it’s not fair to us.”

His voice cracks then, and Bucky pulls him away, holding him in an unbreakable hug, whispering into his ear.

You feel guilty. Heartbroken of course, but more than that you feel guilty. You know you should take the serum, know that it would erase the sickness from your body and probably add another fifty years to your life and god do you want another fifty years with your husbands but--

“It might not even work.” you say quietly and it comes out like a sob. “I’m probably too weak to handle the serum and then it would do more harm than good to me. And even if it does work, I wouldn’t be young or fit or any of those things. You two would be as gorgeous as you always are, and I’d still be pushing sixty. You keep saying you want to grow old with me, but Steve it would just be me growing old. I don’t want that.”

“You’re being selfish.” he snaps and you flinch away from the anger in his voice.

“It’s his choice.” Bucky cuts in and you look up in surprise when you realize he is crying too. “It’s your choice.” he says to you this time, still holding onto Steve so he won’t break away. “I know you think the serum will kill you, will rip you apart. I know ya do, baby. I know you’re scared it will ruin you.”

Terrified, you think, but you don’t tell him that.

“And I know you’d rather go this way, than taken away sooner because of a bad reaction.” He continues and Steve makes a sound like his very soul is tearing. “I know you’re not being selfish, sugar but-- but--”

“But you think it’s the wrong choice.” you say, and Bucky doesn’t agree, but you know it’s what he’s thinking.

“Why don’t you just try it?” He is begging now, Bucky who has never begged for anything, who is usually content to let Steve be the emotional one. “Just try it, babe. Just a half dose, see what it does.”

“What if it ruins me?” you argue weakly.

“But what if it saves you?” Steve argues back. “What if it saves you and we don’t have to say goodbye for decades?”

Bucky lets him go and Steve stumbles to you, falls to his knees and puts his arms around your waist.

“Please.” he whispers. “Please don’t make me say good bye to you yet.”

“Stevie?” Bucky dropped his jacket and dove onto the bed, sliding right into full panic mode because Steve was crying on the bed, holding onto a pillow and gasping for breath through a sob and Bucky was panicking. “Babydoll what’s wrong? What’s wrong? Do you hurt? Are you sick? Did your cough come back? Is it your heart? Your lungs? The diabetes? What is it?”

“Bucky.” Steve sniffed loudly and scrubbed the tears from his cheeks. “I haven’t even had a cold since before the war, its certainly not diabetes, I’m not hurting.” He paused, then his face crumpled. “Not physically anyway!”

“Well for fucks sake what’s wrong?” Bucky bellowed, grappling at Steve until the big blonde landed in his lap. “How come I gotta walk into th’ bedroom and you’re cryin?”

“Ireadafic.” Steve mumbled and after a few seconds to interpret the rushed together words, Bucky’s expression cleared in realization, then reclouded in annoyance.

“A fuckin’ fanfic is making you bawl like this? WHY?”

“This writer!” Steve felt around for his tablet. “Whoever this @youknowwhoiam is? They wrote a soulmate fic where they’re in love with us and we’re in love with them and we’re all soulmates? But since we’re super soldiers and don’t really age…”

“We stayed young and they got old and sick and died.” Bucky finished and Steve nodded miserably. “C’mon Stevie, you know ya can’t read fics like that. You remember what happened when you read that one where they cough up flowers because of unrequited love or whatever? You were a mess!”

“I need to tell them I cried over this fic.” Steve blew his nose loudly. “I need an account so I can comment.”

“No one needs to know you’re crying over fanfic.” Bucky said firmly. “Comment anonymously cos I swear to Christ if you comment as Captain America I’ll break up with you.”

“Yeah, I probably deserve that.” He wiped at his eyes. “I just-- I feel like this author knows us, Bucky. They way they write? They get your sass and my emotions and I just--” he made a vague motion. “I dunno. Is it weird to feel like I know them?”

“Maybe a little bit.” Bucky acknowledged. “But you’re right, they write us a lot clearer than anyone else I’ve read. I’ve pretty much stopped reading anyone else.”

“I’m going to message them.” Steve decided. “Anonymously, but I’m still going to say something. This is beautiful writing and deserves a message.”

“You’re ridiculous and I love you.” Bucky rolled his eyes, but kissed Steve anyway. “Don’t come across as a crazy stalker when you write the message alright? And limit the keyboard smashes.”

“I don’t keyboard smash.”

“Aw, sure you don’t honey.”

**********************

There is mistletoe hanging above the door to the elevator and you smile when Steve and Bucky walk through it and promptly kiss.

Sure, maybe you feel a little weird watching them kiss, but they are both so beautiful, and so obviously in love and just so perfect that you can’t look away.

Steve is wearing a dark green sweater, ribbed and fitted and hugging that body in a way that makes you blush, but that’s alright because you can blame it on the eggnog.

Bucky is in a sweater of the same design, but his is red and his pale eyes seem to glow, his hair pulled back in a messy bun with jingle bells woven through it.

They are hilarious and goofy and this is the first Christmas they’ve spent together since the forties, so you don’t want to intrude on the moment.

You’ve wanted to kiss them forever, and sometimes you think that maybe they want to kiss you too. Sometimes Steve says your name in a certain tone that makes your knees weak and sometimes Bucky smiles and you want to melt, but they’ve never made a move and honestly, why would they want you when they have each other?

So you stand in the background and watch and try to pretend like seeing them together makes you happy, instead of sort of breaking your heart.

But then--

“Come here!” Steve calls for you, holding his hand out. “There’s mistletoe which means you should get a kiss too, huh?”

“Come on, sweet thing.” Bucky holds his hand out for you too. “Been trying to find a reason to kiss you, mistletoe seems like a good one, yeah?”

You blush bright red, but they don’t leave you alone, pulling you out of the shadows and underneath the mistle toe where first Steve and then Bucky tip your head up and kiss you soft and slow.

It’s your first kiss, but god you hope it’s not your last.

“STEVIE!” Bucky bolted off the bed and went charging down the stairs, shouting for Steve as he went. “STEVIE! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”

“Oh my god!” Clint shrieked as Bucky tore past him, his plate of nachos slipping from his hands and splatting on the floor. “Frosty! Damn it!”

“Holy--” Sam flattened himself to a wall when Bucky nearly ran him over. “Slow the fuck down! Where’s the fire?!”

“Stevie Stevie Stevie!” The door to the gym about came off its hinges when Bucky burst through it, and Steve stopped right in the middle of working a punching bag.

“Bucky. Everything alright?”

“I know who he is.” Bucky gasped out. “I know who--” he held up his tablet. “I know who he is.”

“You know who he is?” Steve pulled off his gloves and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Babe what are you talking about?”

Bucky handed over the fic and Steve read through it as fast as he could.

“What the hell is this?” he frowned. “Bucky, this actually happened. Our first Christmas since the war. We bought matching sweaters and kissed under every single piece of mistletoe Tony put up in the Tower. Everything about this is true right up until we kiss the Reader too. What the hell is--”

His eyes widened and Bucky started nodding. “Oh my god, is this--”

“Yes! Yes, Stevie, it's--”

“Someone’s stalking us!” Steve yelped. “Oh my god, they’re stalking us! How else would they know exactly what happened? They must have access to the Tower’s camera’s and use the footage to write self insert fics OH MY GOD.”

“What?” Bucky wrinkled his nose. “No, no you idiot. Fuckin hell, it’s a good thing you’re hot because sometimes you’re sure dumb. It’s not a stalker.”

“Well if it’s not a stalker then who?” Steve thought for a minute. “Oh wait. Wait. Not a stalker so someone in the Tower?”

“Uh-huh.” Bucky made an impatient motion. “Which means---”

“Which means it’s someone in the Tower that likes us, someone that is there all the time.”

“Yes yes yes, get there faster PLEASE!”

“It’s got to be Tony.” Steve said confidently. “He was the one there for this kiss, I remember it perfectly. And he’s got the dark hair and dark eyes. He likes to nap on us and is super smart just like the reader.”

“Right.” Bucky made his eyes very round. “Which means---?”

“It’s Tony.” The enormity of it all hit Steve like a ton of bricks. “Bucky. It’s Tony.”

“Tony’s been writing fan fiction about us.”

“About the three of us being together.”

“About us falling in love and growing old together.”

“About us being happy.”

“And whole.”

“Together.”

“It’s Tony.” Bucky said again, and his hand was shaking as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Tony’s in love with us.”

****************************

#ncts fics #stucky #stuckony #reader insert #fan fiction #funny #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers

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langernameohnebedeutung · 5 years

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Would you have any recommendations on where one could hear/learn a German accent? I'm learning the language but my most recent teacher said that my accent/pronunciation is not very good despite being at a B1 level. I think this is probably due to I have not one, not two, but THREE separate American accents already because of how many times we moved when I was younger, so adding another accent is hell my mouth cannot keep up. Thanks for your time.

Hey sorry that I took my time answering this.Okay, first of, Josie’s personal opinion time (feel free to skip this lmao): It’s not bad to have an accent. Everyone has an accent - not just because of your native tongue but also because of the people around you, your class, family, friends or whoever you practice with. I have a German accent and probably always will have, because I learnt English from teachers with German accents, with partners and fellow pupils who had a German accent and now I study English at a German university and people around me still speak with the same accent. 90% of the conversations I hold in English are German-accented English. But at this point, I refuse to consider my accent “inferior” to...a Yorkshire accent or a New York accent just because those are “native” accents. Of course, it’s also not bad or anything to want to sound like a native speaker and I’m not going to tell you that if you truly want to speak like a native-speaker you shouldn’t pursue that interest - but it’s something few people really 100% accomplish, so pls make sure you’re not putting the actually important things like vocab, grammar and you know - enjoyment - on hold to pursue something really elusive that your teacher thinks is important. It is very hard to accomplish especially for someone not living in Germany and Germany is a country with a lot of different regional and foreign accents, so most of us have some experience with different pronunciations - so you will most likely be understood.

Now, the my actual answer to your question:

Listening to people always helps, so does talking. I noticed it when I was still in school. I started watching American shows and it strongly affected my vocabulary and pronunciation - mind you, we were taught to speak strictly British English, American English was an evil taboo - but later I discovered my love for British films and tv shows and I reverted to the English I learnt at school, for the most part (not regarding the language level but the variety). So I definitely recommend exposing yourself to native German-speakers bc otherwise, your main influence will be your fellow students.

There are a lot of German shows on Netflix - you can check if some of them have English subtitles, I know “Dark” for example does. (I’m not sure about Vorstadtweiber, but if you want to get a taste of a Viennese accent, this might also be fun to check out. “Extra3″ is a German satire show that puts all its episodes on Youtube and with a VPN you can also access the ZDF Mediathek and RTL-Now, two very big German tv channels).

It’s especially helpful to watch out for words you’ve so far only seen in their written form so that you know you struggle with. If you hear them, maybe stop the video and try to repeat it. If you’re interested in specific accents from specific regions (which might be a bit hard, mind you) you can also look for some source material from different regions. For example the German audio of “My Fair Lady” has her speaking with a very thick Berliner accent instead of Cockney, so that’s something you might find interesting bc it’s a film you might already be familiar with. Another tip: I noticed about myself that I easily start thinking in another language, even if I’m really far from fluent and miss words. And doing that I noticed that my inner monologue still has a German accent but it’s much weaker than when you know. my actual physical mouth is involved, for some reason. I can also imitate different English accents in my head much better than I can when I speak - you might try that and even talk to yourself. If there’s no one to tell you you are doing it wrong, it becomes much easier to experiment and have fun with language.

In my experience, it also helps to imitate the accent the speakers of your target language have while speaking your language: I noticed that when I was practising Russian on duolingo: Now, duolingo makes you repeat sentences to practice your pronunciation and my Russian pronunciation was horrible - until I purposefully tried to sound “Russian” - suddenly Duo understood what I was saying. So you might try to speak German with what feels like an exaggerated German accent to you, even if it feels weird at first. (I do the same when I want to sound British)Another thing that helped me (much more than teachers ever did) is to watch English people contemplate and imitate and play with German accents - because even if it’s something I made fun of a lot these last days, it’s interesting and helpful, because if done for comedic or storytelling purposes (I’m going to give an example of that later on), it often highlights the aspects that make it sound different from a native pronunciation and help you localise these aspects in your own language use. That said - the reason I make fun especially of British people playing Germans is that their accents are often based on other British people pretending to be German, not actual Germans so it sounds...very different from the way we speak English. So keep in mind that it’s not always authentic. (Personally, I still think I learnt how not to pronounce the word “convenience” from an episode of Blackadder but that’s another story)

Okay I threatened that I would add an example on how accents in media might help you understand your own accent better:

There are many examples of English-speakers pretending to speak German, but since you are already at B1 and probably speak better German than most of them (many just say stuff without knowing the words or even...just make up sounds that they think sound German), so I picked a film scene that I mentioned in a post a few days ago: the pub scene from Inglorious Basterds (which I saw on youtube is apparently popular for language teaching purposes).

It’s interesting because Michael Fassbender is half-German and knows the language somewhat so he at least knows what the words he’s saying mean. Also, he’s surrounded by native speakers which make for good comparison material. (mind you, Inglorious Basterds is obv. a film about the NS-era so while the German they speak sounds rather modern, I can understand if you would like to avoid that content. Especially since the second video ends in a shooting.) I couldn’t find the whole scene online but if you have the DVD, you might want to look into it, because it’s much longer than the excerpts I found online and maybe you can spot more of the language patterns I will point. (It also has Christoph Waltz in it and his Austrian dialect which might also be interesting to you)

Now, what you need to know is that Fassbender plays an English spy pretending to be a German officer - but when someone points out his accent, he tries to pretend to be Swiss. He does a pretty good job speaking German actually and a German would understand every word he is saying (unlike we do with some other actors pretending to speak German) - but it’s also very obvious with every word that he’s not a native speaker (and no one would actually mistake him for Swiss.) (btw if you want to check out what an actual Swiss dialect sounds like: (x) (I could imagine it’s very difficult for English speakers, because it has a lot of “ch” sounds and is very guttural.

Now, back to Inglorious Basterds:

The first thing that’s very interesting to look at is the first 30 seconds of the first video because it’s clear that they made Fassbender exaggerate his accent because in that scene it leads to a German soldier he’s talking to noticing and pointing out his strange pronunciation. At 0:35 in the first video it’s very, very obvious when he yells the word “zurückkehren” (which finally makes the soldier address the issue)- because he pronounces it “zurück-kerr-än” - a very typical pronunciation with an English accent. Whereas a German would usually say: zurück-kehr’n” (You can compare it to one of the Germans saying “zurückkehren” at minute 2:30) It is also interesting to compare how Fassbender pronounces an “r” vs. how the Germans do it - because he pronounces it like you would in English, while the German “r” sound is a bit harsher and produced a little bit further back in the throat. (Tip: If You can feel it vibrate in your mouth, you’re doing it rrrright).

When he says “rrrrrüpelhaft” it seems as if he’s trying to pronounce the “r” like a native speaker there - but overdoes it. (Fassbender does the same exaggerated “r” sound at 2:56 with the word “Regisseur” and at 2:33 with “Riefenstahl”) - which just sounds a bit off. Compare it to Til Schweiger at 1:00 saying “betrunken (oder völlig) verrückt”. btw If you compare the way Schweiger says “sprechen” in that sentence with Michael Fassbender saying “sprechen” at 2:35 you will also notice the difference in the way they pronounce the “ch”.In that sequence at 2:30, Fassbender also says “gesehen” a lot - and always pronounces it G-esehen, while a German would probably pronounce it ge-seh-’n

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Something that many German learners struggle with - that you can observe in these videos as well - is the pronunciation of infinitive verbs. German verbs, as you know, usually end in “-en” (gehen, sagen, sprechen, hoffen. etc). Now, German speakers usually barely utter the second “e” at all, it’s often: geh’n, sag’n, sprech’n - it*s something that sounds a little off sometimes when Fassbender speaks, because he often puts more emphasis on it than a German would for example when he asks “Haben Sie den Riefenstahl Film gesehen?” or at 3:24 in the second video when he says “aufsteh.en.”You can also observe the impact of the native English - at 2:50 when he says “Brüder” it comes out as “Brüddr” which sounds a lot like “brother” - while in German, the “ü” is stressed and the “r” is almost inaudible.I think the biggest challenge for English-speakers is the “ch” (which unexperienced speakers often turn into a “k” sound - for example turning “Nacht” into “nackt”, always fun). You can see Fassbender struggle a little with that a few times as well (it’s particularly important to keep in mind that there are two “ch” sounds - the one produced in the front of your mouth like in “ich” or “frech” or the one produced farther back in your mouth like in “Nacht” or “Bach” - so if you encounter a word with a “ch”, it’s best to check out which one it is.You can also see him struggle with the long words in German - he basically forces “tausendjähriges” out very quickly which sounds very strange and mechanical and at 3:20 in the second video he has a different strategy and stresses EVERY part of the world Hauptsturmbannführer: “Haupt. Sturm. Bann. Führer.” which sounds ... strange even when done for dramatic purposes. You can compare that to the way the German actor says the same word at 3:31. (especially if you pay attention to how they pronounce “Führer” you will notice the proximity issue. “Führer” is a word that many English-speakers find difficult to pronounce and I think it’s a) because many English-speakers are familiar with the word “Führer” but never heard a German pronounce it b) because of the close proximity of an “ü” and two “r” sounds. When Fassbender pronounces “Führer” it sounds very much like an English person would pronounce the world in an English context while the German guy pronounces it like a German does - that’s something else to keep in mind, that words you might be familiar with like “Volkswagen” or “Weltschmerz” or any of the others are usually pronounced with an accent when English-speakers use them (The same is, of course, true for any other loan words)

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There*s a similar scene in First Class also with Michael Fassbender sitting in a pub with Nazis (seriously that’s... a huge part of his repertoire it seems) which you might want to check out bc again, he speaks German and the other guys are native speakers so if you want to keep looking for different pronunciations and accents, it might be interesting.

(Also “Auslautverhärtung” is a big issue with English-speakers and German-speakers. The reason why German speakers tend to say things like “sayin-k” and “goin-k” and “leavin-k” is because the last sound of a word is usually spoken harsher in German than it is English. English-speakers often have the opposite problem and swallow the last sound a little. I didn’t notice particularly jarring examples of that in these scenes, but it’s still something to keep in mind)

All of that said and done and dissected, I think natural development and interacting with native speakers is much more effective and fun than just trying to avoid certain pronunciations or imitate how other people sound, especially bc I don’t want to bore you with technicalities or even worse, make you nervous about speaking because honestly? Accents are fun and everyone has them. Don’t worry too much about it

If you speak slowly, people will understand you and if you spend some time around native speakers, it will help a lot, it has a strong impact on the way you speak (so obviously i recommend listening to a lot of spoken German, watch films, shows, youtube etc.) And yes, pronunciation is important - you need to be understood after all - but having an accent is natural. Everyone has at least a regional accent and I don’t understand why foreign accents are automatically considered a flaw or a sign that someone isn’t able to communicate fully in that language they learnt.

I recommend you focus on words and grammar and listening and reading comprehension and let things grow naturally and don’t actually enjoy having an accent. There’s nothing wrong with it.

#nonfandom #languages #Anonymous

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mtvswatches · 5 years

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Jane the Virgin 2x06 Chapter Twenty-Eight

Spoilers disclaimer (please read before sending messages or writing comments.)

Click here for previous recaps!

Stray thoughts

1) I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned before but I really love how every episode begins with a flashback of a special moment for the Villanueva women. It’s a great reminder that in spite of the whole love triangle stuff, these three women are the show’s central characters.

2) So, Jane is grappling with having cut ties with Michael – how long is that going to last, anyway? – and all I can think of is maybe you shouldn’t have asked your former lover to be your kid’s godfather?

3) Okay, so Michael had contacted Nadine to get her to work with him and catch Sin Rostro.

4) I’m actually kind of surprised that Jane would agree to have Rafael be in charge of Mateo in case of her death. I mean, of course, Rafael has every right to raise his own child, but I think Jane just doesn’t trust him enough around Mateo, and I think that if it wasn’t just a hypothetical situation, she would definitely want her mom and grandma to take her of her child…

5) So, Mateo is worth 40 million… Interesting.

6) I think I haven’t mentioned lately how much I love Rogelio, have I? Well, I do.

7) Why does everyone want to abuse Petra? I’m getting tired of that shit.

8) Are Magda and Petra going all Prison Break or something?

9) Oh, the guy from Roswell!

10) I think this wouldn’t have happened if she had told her professor why she needed to take the call…

11) I wasn’t expecting to feel all warm inside because of Rafael, but here I am…

12)

RAFAEL: Let me ask you something. Do you like Mateo?

JANE: I want him to stay grounded.

RAFAEL: I just it seems pretty austere. "Money for health and education costs, with everything else left in savings - until he's 50"?

JANE: He needs to learn the value of hard work.

RAFAEL: Won't he learn that from us?

JANE: Well, yeah, but it's different.

RAFAEL: What is?

JANE: Growing up knowing that you can just buy ten backup loveys if something goes wrong.

I get where Jane is coming from and I agree that children should learn the value of hard work, but there’s a difference between teaching your kid to work hard and purposefully denying them access to certain resources in order to teach them a lesson. I think there must be a middle ground between the points of view of Rafael and Jane.

13) So… Petra wants Jane and her family to talk in favor of Magda’s release… Hmm. I still can’t get over the fact she pushed Alba down the stairs.

14) Don Juan Draper? Hombres Locos? Sign me in!

15) Oh…

DOCTOR: Mateo's got a fairly pronounced case of what we call plagiocephaly. And that sounds worse than it is. Basically, it means he's got a flat head. JANE: A flat head? RAFAEL: Why? DOCTOR: Well, he's probably spending a little too much time laying flat on his back. Because babies need to sleep on their backs, we really need to be vigilant about tummy time. Look, it's largely cosmetic. But Mateo's condition is pronounced, so there could be some visual disturbances, dental problems… Which is why some parents choose a helmet. RAFAEL: A helmet? DOCTOR: To reshape the head. It has to be custom-fitted, so Mateo would wear it 23 hours a day for about three months.

My godson had a similar issue, but he didn’t have to wear a helmet. His mom only had to make sure he wouldn’t sleep on the same side every time and she had to hold him a certain way and the head got back to its natural shape on its own.

Anyway, I hope this doesn’t mean Jane starts second-guessing her decision to go to grad school…

16) PETRA’S HAVING TWINS!

17) Magda’s out…

And she’s got her own prison tat…

18) She’s having problems writing, but…

She could definitely draw some inspiration from her own life, right? I mean, this further cements my theory that the narrator is actually Jane telling her own story.

19) What a beautiful trainwreck…

20) He makes a GREAT point…

JANE: I'm raising a rich kid. And that's just not the way I grew up. You know, and you said that your childhood was all screwed up.

RAFAEL: Yeah, but not because I had money. I was screwed up, because of my family.

But please, NOT THIS AGAIN!!!!

21) So the mommy from the mommy group wants to date Rafael, and on the one hand, Jane has no right to be jealous, but on the other hand, that mommy has some nerve! Also, I’m loving Jane’s new friend, he tells it like it is. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be evil.

22) So, she only did the telenovela so that she could make fun of Rogelio…

23) I mean, it’s nice that Jane is trying to be the bigger person by giving Rafael her “blessing” to go out with the mommy, but I think it would’ve been much healthier if they just acknowledged that yes, it is weird, but they have to find a way to deal with it.

24) And now she’s on academic probation for falling asleep in class.

25) #BIGMOOD

26) So Petra did listen to Jane and turned Milos in for committing internet scams.

27) This was nice.

28) WTF!!

WHY THE FUCK WOULD SHE GET A HOOK?! WHAT TIME OR PLACE ARE THEY LIVING IN?

29) Petra and Jane keep bonding and I’m HERE FOR IT!

30) See? It’s moments like this that make me overlook the tedious love triangle plot…

I'd like to thank my parents, of course, for instilling in me the desire to give back. Thank you to my mentors, Michelle Obama and Angelina Jolie, whose fight to make sure all girls receive an education led me to the Peace Corps and Let Girls Learn. I'm here at the UN because more than 62 million girls do not have access to an education… I'm sorry, I have to go pee-pee.

I really love how the show has found a way to organically fit social commentary into the show.

31) So Hombres Locos is going to get made. We’ve all been blessed.

32) So three months have gone by…

I guess she’s not getting back together with Michael. Yet.

33) NOT AGAIN!!

I get that “enough time had passed” in the show, but for us, it literally was just one episode when Jane was head over hills for Michael and saying how he was her forever. I’m beyond tired of this constant back and forth. Why does the show keep doing this? Is it ever going to stop? I know I’ve complained about this before, but it seriously puts me off watching the show… I LOATHE THIS STORYLINE. I just want Jane to make up her mind, EITHER WAY, I don’t really care who she chooses, but she SHOULD JUST CHOOSE SOMEONE AND STICK WITH THEM FOR A WHILE! AT LEAST TWO EPISODES, MAYBE?!

34) And of course, Michael’s back right when Jane “has moved on”…

35) Oh, you duplicitous bitch!

But this was kind of predictable considering they did the exact same thing last season when Jane befriended that girl from her writing class who turned out to be Michael’s ex. This means that no one will ever approach Jane without having some kind of ulterior motive.

36) Look at Magda, back at it again with the murdering people!

37) Will the Jane-Michael-Rafael triangle ever end? Don’t answer, it’s more of a wish than a question. BUT SERIOUSLY THOUGH.

38) Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi.Thanks!

#Jane the Virgin #Jane Villanueva #Gina Rodriguez #Petra Solano #Rogelio De La Vega #JTV recap #JTV 2x06 #mine

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were-cheetah-stiles · 7 years

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The Recruit (Chapter 14) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 75, Part II”

Characters: Mitch Rapp & Reader/OFC

Warnings: SMUT... and dirty talk and cursing and fluff and Shake Shack and ugh. this chapter.

A.N.: I redid this chapter into a one-shot for Mitch Week, and if you feel like you should skip it because you read it, you could not be more wrong. Enjoy the real version of “Day 75, Part II”.

Summary: Mitch and Y/N arrive in New York City and kill time on their first day before heading to meet Mitch’s brother for dinner.

Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen - Chapter Fifteen

"Ugh, it's so good. I'm so happy." You threw your head back in ecstasy as Mitch watched you and grinned. "How's your burger?"

"Really good." He crumbled into a fit of laughter as you took another massive bite from your SmokeShack Shake Shack burger. You were sitting across the repurposed wooden table in the crowded restaurant in the depths of New York's Penn Station when you saw your phone vibrate with a text notification. You slid it over to Mitch. He didn’t have a phone and he was using yours to get in touch with his brother. "Steve is going to meet us at Cipriani Club 55 downtown in three hours. He left a key with his doorman for us to get in and drop off our stuff." Mitch read the text message on your iPhone, closed it, and slid it back over to you across the table. "What do you want to do for three hours before dinner?"

"Have sex." You said in a normal speaking tone, eliciting a look from the construction worker sitting next to you eating his own burger. You stared straight at Mitch with a smirk.

"I don't understand what we are still doing here eating burgers then..." Mitch also ignored the close vicinity of the other burger-eating patrons. You laughed hard. He loved seeing you so carefree and happy. "Should we go?" You nodded and grabbed your bag. "The cabs are upstairs?" Mitch hadn't been to Penn Station since college, and couldn't remember the layout.

"Oh, honey, we're not taking a cab. You're with a New Yorker. We take the subway."

"You are so smug right now." Mitch laughed and pecked you on the lips.

You both stood on the subway, Mitch holding on to the above railing, and you wrapping your arms around his waist, your head buried against his chest, the two of you swaying together with the movements of the train. Mitch could feel how relaxed you were in comparison to how you were when you were at The Barn and were constantly forced to think about all the shitty things that had happened to you there.

You glanced up at him, his sweet upturned nose, his pronounced jawline, the veins in his neck and his sweeping hair. He glanced down, smiled at you, kissed you on the cheek, and went back to reading the advertisements on the train. You smiled from ear to ear and buried your face back into his chest, feeling him squeeze you in reaction to your nuzzle.

You got off at the Fulton Street subway stop and began walking to Steven's building, where he was putting you both up for the week. Mitch had your hand clasped in his as you walked next to him, a smile spread across your face, leading the way through the throngs of people and getting your fast New York legs back into action. He squeezed your hand and you looked up at him, slowing down your pace.

"I'm not used to us getting to be a normal couple." Mitch said, a subtle smile resting on his lips.

"I know what you mean, talking about sex in restaurants, cuddling on the subway and holding hands in public... It’s weird getting to be with you so openly. It's nice though."

"Yea, I kept checking around us on the subway to see who would catch us or who was watching..."

"And no one was watching because New Yorkers don't give a fuck about what you're doing on the train?" You completed his sentence.

Mitch laughed. "Basically. I've been looking over my shoulder for so long that I have got to learn to relax every once in a while."

"I could help.." You said with a smirk, as you pushed him out of the current of people walking on the sidewalk and pressed your fingers into his chest. You leaned up and locked your lips to his, quickly escalating it by pushing your tongue into his mouth and massaging his with it. Mitch pulled you close to him and enveloped your with his body. Mitch pulled back and bit his upper lip.

"How much longer until we're at Steve's?" He asked, growing impatient.

He dropped both of your bags on the floor and closed the door. You walked ahead of him, looking around and admiring Steven's big New York apartment.

"Your brother really does do well for himself, huh?" You said, staring at the vaulted ceilings and floor to ceiling windows, and taking off your jacket, leaving it on a chair.

Mitch came up from behind you and pulled your wrist so you would come back to him. You stumbled towards him with a smile, and he scooped you up in his arms. You squealed as he kissed you, taking off his shoes with his feet, and walked to the couch. He laid you down, pulled your shoes off and threw them on the floor. He watched your face as he pulled your right sock off slowly, kissing your feet and ankles as he threw the sock behind him. He repeated the action with the left sock.

"You are killing me with this going slow shit." You said with a grin.

Mitch cocked his head to the side, smirked and began undressing. You followed suit and soon you were both naked and he was on top of you on the black leather couch. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your nails into his hair, lightly tugging and moaning as he kissed your jaw and neck.

"I've wanted you inside of me so badly ever since you put our bags away on the train. Your happy trail and abs.... God, you are so sexy." You whispered into his ear as he bit at your neck.

"Fuck, Y/N." Mitch pulled your body closer to his in one swift motion. "You want my cock inside you?" He asked, a smirk breaking across his face.

You shook your head. "More than anything."

Mitch didn't need further convincing. He pressed the head of his cock, dripping with precum, against your already wet opening, and moaned as he pushed himself inside. He loved how tight you were when he didn't stretch you out at all. You exhaled deeply and gripped the cushion on the back of the couch. Mitch pumped slowly in and out of you, watching your face, as you watched his length filling you up.

"You like watching me fuck you?" He asked, leaning over to sneak in a greedy and hungry kiss.

"So much. You're so big.. ahh... and so thick... ahh oh god... and you look so good when you're fucking me. ahhh Mitch, fuck." You could barely get the sentence out, because after every other word, Mitch pushed in a little deeper. He pushed down on your hips as he picked up his rhythm. He reached down and began rubbing your clit. You snatched his hand away and pulled it up to massage your breast instead. Mitch slowed and looked at you confused.

"You okay?" He asked as he came to a stop.

You squirmed underneath him, not wanting the friction to end. "You can go down on me later."

"I can get you to finish now.." Mitch offered.

You shook your head. "I don't want to wait for me to orgasm."

"I do."

You licked your lips. "I don't. Sometimes a girl just wants a good, old-fashioned fucking. I don't want to have to wait to feel you shoot a load inside of me, Mitch. I want you to fuck me and fill my pussy with your cum. Now." You looked serious and Mitch's breath hitched in the back of his throat. "Make it up to me later, fuck my brains out now."

Mitch felt the adrenaline and aggression building inside of him from you aggressive demands. He grinned mischievously and picked his rhythm back up, thrusting in and out of you as he leaned over to kiss you, and you left scratch marks on his shoulder blades. You ground roughly against his dick, wanting more of him inside of you.

"Harder." You whispered in his ear. Mitch straightened back out and began thrusting into you with more force, pushing down on your pointy hipbones to keep you in place. "Oh god, Mitch, yes. Just like that." You yelled. He watched as you reached your hands above you, anchoring yourself with the arm of the couch, and your tits bouncing with his thrusts. "Oh god, deeper, please baby. I want all of you." Mitch loved this dirty talking side of you.

He looked down and saw his dick coated in your juices and his thrusts became quicker and more vicious. He furrowed his brow and leaned down, breathing in her skin. You moaned in his ear and ran your fingers through his hair and purposefully contracted your walls around his cock.

"Oh holy fuck." He whispered as he felt your walls tighten even further around him. His thrusts got sloppy and he began panting and you could tell he was getting closer. You wanted to push him over the edge.

"I love feeling your big, thick cock throbbing and then filling me up with your cum." You whispered again between pants and Mitch straightened back up. He bit his lower lip as he thrust wildly and ruthlessly into your now raw and red pussy. "Ahh... ahh. oh god, you feel so good." You almost looked pained, like the feeling was too much. You pushed your hands against the arm of the couch, extending them and pushing yourself against him. You heard his hips smacking against your ass as he pumped into you.

He felt a knot untying in his stomach and he pushed into you with all of his might. You yelped loudly at the intense pleasure and threw your head back against the cushions. Mitch moaned and thrust into you again, this time you felt your walls become coated as he shot his load inside of you.

He collapsed to the side, propping himself up on the back of the couch and staring down at you, watching your chest moving up and down as you tried to steady your breathing. "I'm gonna die. That was so good. That was all I wanted. I jus... ugh.. thank you." You panted, and closed your eyes. Mitch smiled and leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

"Shit.”

“What?” You looked up at him with concern.

“I'm going to pull out and you are going to drip all over my brother's couch and he's going to kill me." Mitch realized that real leather left decent stains when introduced to something wet and sticky.

"Tissues." You looked around and then pointed to a box out of your reach on the coffee table.

Mitch grabbed them and pulled a handful out, handing them to you and watching you press them against your raw cunt as he pulled out. He smiled when you asked for more. He cleaned himself off and scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to Steven's bathroom, and placing you on the counter of the sink. "Do you want to get in the shower with me?" Mitch asked as he turned the faucet to 'H'.

You looked in the mirror and fussed with your hair. "Not if you're going to get my hair wet."

"I can't promise I won't." Mitch said as he stepped under the warm spray, slicking his hair back with his hands.

"Then I'll wait for you to finish." You said with a grin. "Does he have another bathroom?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"Cause I have to pee soon or I'm going to get a UTI." You sheepishly divulged.

"So just pee. I don't care." Mitch said with a chuckle.

Your eyes got wide.. "Will that be weird? Are we at that point yet?"

"I think so... right?"

".....Fine, but turn around." You yelled as you lifted the seat and sat. Mitch smirked but did as he was told. "I don't get why we're showering now, we have two hours. That's like a solid whole other quickie, a shower, getting ready and leaving here for the restaurant by 5:45." You told Mitch as he lathered shampoo into his chocolate locks.

"Is this place far or are we walking?"

"We can walk. But... oh shit, babe. You didn't bring a suit did you?"

Mitch rinsed the conditioner out and turned to you. "No.. is this place fancy?" He asked as he stepped out of the shower, leaving the door open for you. He leaned up against the tile, dripping on the floor as he rubbed a clean towel through his hair. It was the only clean towel in the bathroom so he tried to keep it dry for you.

"Yea, it's totally a suit and tie kind of place. Would any of Steven's fit you?" You asked as you tied your hair neatly up into a high bun, and then let the water cascade onto your shoulders.

"I haven't seen him in a while but unless he's gotten ripped in the last year, I don't think we're the same size anymore. Do you have something to wear for tonight?"

"Yea, but I'm going to need a steamer, can you check if he has one? I'm sure he does. He works on Wall Street, he probably wears suits every day."

Mitch looked around the bathroom, then walked into Steven's bedroom. He saw a handheld steaming device on his dresser. He ran back into the bathroom to see you wrapping yourself in the towel. "I found one. Can I help you get ready?"

You smiled sweetly at the man in front of you. "It'll take me like ten minutes to do my makeup and hair. There is a short, silk, black dress in my bag, if you hang it up against his closet or something and just steam the wrinkles out, that'd be great." He nodded, walked over to kiss you and walked out of the room. You followed him to grab your makeup bag. You saw him putting on a fresh pair of boxer briefs, and then digging through your bag. He pulled out the dress and raised his eyebrows, walking into the bedroom with it.

You walked in, about seven minutes later, a gray smoky eye, cat-eye gel liner on your top lids, a soft peachy-pink blush on your cheeks, and chapstick smeared across your lips. You were stunning. You saw him looking through Steven's closet full of suits and turn when he heard your feet against the hardwood flooring. "Wow. You look amazing." A smile breaking out across his face. "None of these are going to fit me though."

You had your iPhone in your hand and were scrolling. "There's a Brooks Brother's a few blocks away, if I throw enough money at them, they should be able to put you in something good before dinner... stop staring at me and go put on some clothes." You grinned, as he walked out of his brother’s room... "Wait, wait, no, come back. I can't reach the dress." You laughed and stood on your tip-toes, trying to grab the hangar from the top of the tall closet door. Mitch laughed and walked back, pulling the dress down, handing it to you, and pecking you on the lips. You came out of Steven's room in the black silk slip dress, your breasts peeked out the top and sides and it hugged your hipbones and ass perfectly. You reached down to grab your black stilettos and your black leather, Everlane clutch and sat on the couch, buckling your strappy heels around your ankles.

"You seriously look so fucking good, Y/N." Mitch shook his head as he stared at the woman in front of him. He watched as you stood, the heels adding a hole other dimension to the outfit, and a few inches, and still had to reach up to kiss him. He helped you put your jacket on, and you both walked out the door.

You walked into Brooks Brother's and almost immediately, every salesman, young and old, was by the front door, eager to help you. Mitch grinned at the fuss his woman could make in a simple black dress. "I need to get him in a.. either slate gray or dark blue fitted suit, white shirt, skinny tie, and some black wingtips and socks... Basically, he needs a whole ensemble in an hour... and I do mean 'fitted'." You told the sales associates.

"Oh Miss, I'm sorry, we don't usually do rush orders.."

"You're going to want to do this one, we'll be paying in cash." You lifted your clutch slightly and smiled your most charming smile.

"The tailor is upstairs, if you'll follow me."

You flashed an accomplished smile at Mitch who smirked over how fancy you were being. Instead of making a whole new suit for Mitch, the tailor measured him, fit him in something close to his size and then took in what needed to be taken in and let out what needed to be let out.

You looked for the perfect pair of black wingtips and a pair of blue and gray patterned socks. You found a tie that had the same color blue as the socks and you brought them all to the register to be rung up. You paid in cash and tipped the sales associate and tailor handsomely for their speedy efforts. You checked the time on your phone: 5:44PM. Their reservation was at 6:15 and Mitch wasn't done yet. You slumped in one of the arm chairs and waited, impatiently jiggling your foot.

"Ma'am, I put his clothes in a bag for you." The sales associate came over to give you the clothes that Mitch had walked in with.

"Can you do me one last favor, John, and just hold on to those overnight? We will pick them up in the morning if that's okay."

"Absolutely, Mrs. Rapp. I'll leave them behind the register up here and we open at 8AM." The sales associate left you with a massive grin on your face. You didn't know why you had told him that your name was 'Y/N Rapp' when he asked, but that was what you told him. You shook your head, wondering how Mitch would have reacted if he had heard it. You scratched by your ear and realized that your hair was still wrapped up in a bun, so you tugged at the hair tie, and watched in the mirror as it cascaded down on your shoulders in perfect, soft Y/H/C curls. You fixed your part and fluffed your eyelashes and hoped that Steven would be impressed with the girl that his brother was dating.

"Y/N..." You heard his low, raspy voice and turned.

The breath hitched in your throat and you felt butterflies take over your stomach. "Oh my god.." You walked up to him and pulled at the lapel of his slate-gray suit jacket. "You look even better than I imagined." You leaned up to kiss him. He gently placed his lips against yours, feeling your kiss turn into a smile against his mouth. He laughed softly.

"You are the one that looks even better than I remembered when I went in there." He ran his fingers through your curls, and you leaned your cheek into his touch. "The tailor said you paid for all of it already?" Mitch said with a frown. "You didn't have to do that. I could have paid for it too."

"You and Steven grew up in McLean, Virginia... I know you could've paid for it, but I wanted to treat you. Is that okay?" You asked, as you kept eyeing his suit, unable to stop staring at how good he looked.

Mitch sighed softly and smiled. "Yea, that's fine. Thank you." He kissed your forehead.

You smiled bashfully and looked up at the sales associate who was trying not to stare at the beautiful couple, and was fake rearranging ties at a table close by. "John, this is silly, but can you take a picture of us?" You handed him your iPhone.

"Absolutely. One of the most stunning couples I have ever had walk into my store. Maybe a haircut for the mister but still, magnificent." The older man said.

"No, he's perfect the way he is." You swiped his hair across his forehead, and smirked up at him. You heard the photo snap while the two of you were looking at each other and not the lens.

"One more. At me this time." You both looked forward, smiled, clutching onto each other's hips, and heard the camera app make a shutter clicking noise. "Beautiful!" He handed the phone back to you, who closed it before looking at the pictures because you saw the time on the clock above John's head.

"Thank you, John. We have to go." Mitch helped drape your coat over your shoulders. H buttoned the top button of his jacket, and intertwined his fingers with yours.

"We will see you tomorrow for your clothes. Have a wonderful evening, Mr. and Mrs. Rapp. Thank you for thinking of us here at Brooks Brother's."

You flashed him a smile and they headed out the door. Your face was flush red and you avoided looking up at Mitch.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rapp?" Mitch asked with a smirk.

"He must've just assumed.." You mumbled.

"Mhmm." He clutched your hand tighter in his. He didn't hate the sound of it.

Sigh. *dreamily looks off into the distance*

@chivesoup @confidentrose @alexhmak @dontstopxx @iloveteenwolf24 @surpeme-bean @snek-shit @kalista-rankins @parislight @cleverassbutt @damndaphneoh @mgpizza2001 @chionophilic-nefelibata @ninja-stiles @sarcasticallystilinski @teenage-dirtbagbaby @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @alizaobrien @twsmuts @rrrennerrr @sorrynotsorrylovesome @lovelydob @iknowisoundcrazy @5secsxofamnesia @vogue-sweetie @dylrider @ivette29 @therealmrshale @twentyone-souls @sunshineystilinski @snicketyssnake @xsnak-3x @eccentricxem @inkedaztec @awkwarddly @lightbreaksthrough @maddie110201 @hattyohatt @amethystmerm4id @completebandgeek @red-wine-mendes @snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #the recruit aa #american assassin #dylan o'brien #american assassin au #the recruit #the maze runner #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brien imagine #mitch rapp smut #mitch rapp fan fic #mieczyslaw stilinski #american assassin fan fic #dylan obrien

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bostonchungschwa · 7 years

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so here it is, my hard of hearing Ryan fic!

saddeningamountofredgummiebears submitted:

( https://goo.gl/AZ2yCn - Link to AO3)

Ryan was born with only 60% of his hearing. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to warrant him having a grand total of seven surgeries for it between the ages of four and eleven to get tympanostomy tubes put in. They worked wonderfully at the time, but eventually kept falling out and did nothing but cause Ryan’s eardrums to shrivel up like raisins. (Yes, raisins, as much as he hates comparing a part of his body to a raisin, that’s the what Ryan’s doctor used to describe it so he figures he now has no choice.)

Ryan doesn’t necessarily mind being hard of hearing, it makes it a little easier to shoot weapons on a daily basis and it means he can’t hear Gavin’s annoying voice in the living room when he’s eating in the kitchen. The rest of the crew however, don’t know about it (Ryan doesn’t want to appear weak in any way) which does sometimes cause an issue.

“Rnwrginswmm… With?” As always, Michael pops in with a prime example of his hearing, or lack thereof, being a problem. Ryan turns around to look at Michael where he’s standing with Gavin, Jeremy, and Jack a little ways from the couch where Ryan was currently sitting.

Ryan made sure he was looking at Michaels mouth before asking, “What was that?”

“Isid wreging swmm, didyouwan cm with?” Michael repeated, though it didn’t do much help to Ryan as the lad was mumbling a bit, prohibiting Ryan from being able to read his lips at all.

When Ryan first joined the crew, the others were prone to mumbling there words a bit. Not bad enough to where an average person couldn’t understand what they were saying, but bad enough to the point where Ryan had to clue what they were saying because he can’t read people’s lips if they don’t enunciate. Luckily, his reputation as the Vegabond was scary enough that when he yelled at them to stop mumbling it quickly became a habit to pronounce their words a little more exaggerated around Ryan. Occasionally, however, they forgot.

“If you’re going to fucking mumblr then don’t even bother talking to me Michael,” Ryan bit out a tad angrily. Michael barely even flinched, the others no longer being scared of Ryan in the slightest, before saying his question for the third time now.

“Sorry. I telling you that we’re all going swimming and we wanted to know if you wanted to come with,” Michael made sure to move is lips with each sound and Ryan finally understood what the hell it was he was asking. Ryan had to think about the question for a bit. Swimming has never been his favourite thing and thinking back on it, it has probably been over a year since the gent has been to a pool.

He took a look at the four standing in front of him, the three lads in swimming shorts (Gavin’s having the union jack printed on them, Jeremy’s being that god awful orange and purple, and Michaels just being plain red) and Jack in one of her many floral print bikinis. All of them were giving him pleading looks. None of which were working until he looked at Jeremy standing on the end.

And Ryan is well aware of his inability to say no to Jeremy. Especially when said lad was looking at him with his big eyes and puppy dog pout on his face. Ryan let out a huge sigh before grumbling out a ‘fine’ and heading towards his room to change.

(He decidedly ignored the faint whoops of hooray’s he heard as he went down the hallway.)

He was almost finished getting ready, just needing to grab a clean towel, when he heard the bedroom door open and looked over to see Jeremy grinning.

“I’m really glad that you’re coming,” he whispered, hugging Ryan. Ryan returned the smile and gave the lad a quick kiss on the forehead before moving out of his grasp to grab a towel from the bathroom.

“Yea well you should feel lucky. I usually hate swimming,” Ryan attempted a joking tone but as usual Jeremy saw straight through it and heard the slight nervous tone underneath.

“Why do you hate swimming? It’s just water, and plus you take baths all the time it’s practically the same thing just cold water and without soap,” there was a huff of laugh from Ryan as Jeremy said this, and he grinned even wider at the achievement.

“It’s not the water that’s the problem. I’ve just never found it fun,” Ryan gave a small shrug of his shoulders as he pulled a towel out of the cupboard and turned back to look at Jeremy who, unknowingly to Ryan, had followed him into the bathroom.

“Well if you’re just in a normal pool I guess it isn’t always fun. But Geoff’s pool is sick, dude! He’s got a waterslide, and a zipline, and we can do flips off of the diving board, it’s tons of fun with all that stuff,” Jeremy explained excitedly. His smile quickly disappeared however when he saw the small frown his words pulled from Ryan. “What is it?” He asked concern lacing his voice.

“Nothing it’s just…” Ryan trailed off.

“Just what?” Jeremy held out the word just and poked Ryan’s middle a bit, trying to get the gent to tell him what was wrong.

“I mean yea all that stuff is loads of fun when you can actually do them,” there was a small look of jealousy in Ryan’s eyes when he said that, but if you asked him about it he’d deny it to dying day.

“What’s stopping you from doing them?” At this point Jeremy had a small frown on his face and was looking at his boyfriend with nothing but worry and determination.

“Well, the thing is…” Ryan paused for a moment, taking a relaxing breath and leaning in to Jeremy’s touch at his sides, “you have to go underwater to do all that stuff which is like, the only thing at can’t do.”

“You can’t go underwater?” Jeremy was understandably confused by the statement. Ryan only gave a small nod in answer. “Why can’t you go underwater?”

Ryan paled a bit at the question and gave out a small whine as he hid his face in Jeremy’s hair. Jeremy held his boyfriend closer and rubbed his back slowly, immediately recognising the fact that the reason is obviously sensitive to Ryan.

Ryan, not wanting to hide it from Jeremy but also not wanted to tell anyone, took a huge breath before rushing out, “I’mhardofhearingandmyeardrumsarelikeraisinsandsoican’tgetwaterinmyearsbecausethenIcouldgocompletleydeaf.”

“Ryan, babe, love, buddy. You can’t yell at all of us for mumbling even slightly, and then mumble yourself. It’s a bit hypocritical,” Jeremy’s voice was sweet even when saying the sarcastic words.

“Right, I know, sorry. It’s just difficult to say is all,” Ryan pulled back a bit to look at Jeremy’s eyes, and tightened his grip on the lads hips a little. He took a few more deep breaths before repeating himself slower, “What i said was, I’m hard of hearing. Have been all my life and I had to have some surgeries because of it as a kid. Now, however, my eardrums are damaged and all shriveled like raisins so they can’t stop liquids from passing through and into my middle ear. This means, I can’t go underwater because if I do get any kind of liquid in my ears I would not only lose more of my hearing, but I could potentially go completely deaf. It’s also why I always yell you guys for mumbling because then not only can I not hear what your saying, but I can’t read your lips either.”

After the words were out, Ryan looked nervously at Jeremy. The shorter man in the only person outside of his family that knows about Ryan’s hearing loss and he’s nervous about how he’ll respond to it. There’s many ways Ryan has thought about how the other guys would respond to finding out about his hearing.

What Ryan never expected was for Jeremy to chuckle a little before pressing a small kiss to Ryan’s lips. Ryan happily reciprocated the kiss, for a moment forgetting what they were talking about in favour of the way Jeremy’s lips tasted like cherries from his chapstick, before remembering and quickly pulling back in confusion.

“Wait why did you laugh then kiss me? That doesn’t make sense,” apparently Ryan’s confusion was funny because his question only made Jeremy laugh again.

“Because you’re the big Vagabond, feared by all of Los Santos. Little do they know, your a dork who wears dad jeans and can’t hear for shit. Like who are you?” Jeremy’s eyes were shining in amusement as he said it, but all Ryan could focus on was that Jeremy was pressing himself even closer, and he didn’t react badly in any way. Ryan couldn’t let the dad jeans joke get a pass though.

“Says the guy who calls himself Rimmy Tim and makes everything he owns fucking orange and purple. Like what the hell Jeremy?” Ryan teased back as they walked back out to join the others and take the elevator down to the pool Geoff had built into the loft.

—

Ryan has never necessarily minded being hard of hearing, considering in his line of work it rarely ever became a problem. When it does become a problem however, he knows that his boyfriend Jeremy will always be there to help him. Ryan may have been hesitant to tell him, still doesn’t want to tell any of the others, but he’s definitely happy that he did. Now, whenever one the guys mumbles a little bit, Jeremy discreetly finds a way to repeat back to Ryan so he knows what was said. If he doesn’t quite hear a bit during one the heist briefings, Jeremy always fills in the gaps for him. Ryan no longer has to come up with excuses on his own about why he has the tv up so loud, Jeremy always being there with a quick ‘shut the fuck up Gav’ with the tone that gets the message across without sounding mean, something that only Jeremy can seem to do.

Ryan decided it’s nice, having someone else know. Especially his boyfriend. It’s definitely not because Jeremy purposefully whispers all the things Ryan used to miss in his ear when they’re having sex. Definitely not, that has nothing to do with it. It’s simply because Jeremy’s the most important thing in his life, and it’s nice knowing that Jeremy now knows everything about him.

Well except his total kill count. But nobody knows that, not even Ryan. So that doesn’t really count.

this is so good!!!!!!!!! i love it thank you so much!!!!!!

#submitted fic #fake ah crew #jeremwood #disabled crew #submission #saddeningamountofredgummiebears #i love this so so much!!!!!!!!!!!

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youremyonlyhope · 5 years

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The Prince of Winterfell

Been over a year since I last watched Game of Thrones. But I’ve realized that these next few weeks are going to be overrun with spoilers... because no one I follow apparently knows how to tag spoilers... so MAYBE I’ll attempt to catch up before the actual finale of the show.

(I don’t have any GOT spoilers tags blacklisted because I don’t care THAT much, but even if I did have them blacklisted there are people who don’t put any tags at all on the posts so if I REALLY wanted to avoid spoilers, you people would not be helping me.)

Still only in the middle of Season 2. I am very behind. Wish me luck.

Amazon’s like “Skip Recap” but nooooo I NEED the recap. I forgot that all the thirteen warlock dudes died. Awww. She does care about Theon. I’ve forgotten her name. YARA! Thank you Amazon’s X-Ray. For once, you were helpful and didn’t spoil me. Thought right now I can’t remember what was spoiled for me before... but I know someone’s character name was once a spoiler since they hadn’t said the person’s full name by the time I opened the X-Ray. Oh no my baby Jon feels guilty... “‘How can a man be brave if he’s afraid?’ ‘That is the only time he can be brave’“ Amazing. I love that. I miss Ned. Jaime better shut up. My Brienne is perfect. Am I honestly supposed to ship them? Ok. Me saying that now means that I’ll probably end up shipping it and then looking back on this like “Oh... naive Hope” 99% sure this guy talking to Tywin is Dekker from Torchwood Children of Earth. Is Jaqen the creepy dude who does stuff for Arya? I literally can’t remember, I don’t think I knew his name last year either, pretty sure I called him Creepy Dude then too. Awwww my baby Gendry!

(Literally I’m watching this episode because I saw a gifset of Gendry and I was like ....ok fine I’ll start back on Game of Thrones. FOR YOU GENDRY)

I missed that entire thing Qhorin said to Jon before flipping and pushing him over so I gotta rewind that. OH OK he wants Jon to be able to infiltrate. Cool cool cool. Ok... Bronn’s smart and thinks ahead... good on him... even if he killed a bunch of people to do it... Tyrion’s look at Bronn when Varys pronounced the name his way was funny. Ahhh my baby Sam! Dragon glass... cool. Ok Jaqen is the creepy dude. Did not catch his name before. I bet you that Cersei has the wrong woman in mind... Yep. It’s my girl Ros. Still want to know her entire story. She’s really playing along.... I feel like I missed something... something about the lion necklace I guess. Did Tyrion give it to her? Or did he give it to Shae who gave it to her purposefully? Was there a scene about that in a past episode? Also, Ros is the best. But we already knew that. Wow... Tyrion really loves Shae... I don’t think we’ve seen him that vulnerable yet... I don’t think I expected Talisa to have been a noblewoman. Also, what does her brother think of her running away from that life? If he’s the reason she had the epiphany? Jaqen actually came through. I’m almost gonna miss you, Creepy Dude. I hope they meet him again. I literally can’t even remember what Arya did to make him decide “This one. I like this one. I will gladly kill for this one.” I’ve figured out that Davos was in the Cold War episode of Doctor Who. I feel like I mentioned that he looked familiar and couldn’t figure out why, and now I know what I know him from. I was wondering why I was enjoying this episode, it’s because there was no Joffrey in it... until now. Ugh. Can’t even look at his face I’m just staring at his shoulders while he talks. Why would Dany not be alive? Why would Varys not know? I’m so confused... a year long gap is not good... Oh hey Dany! Whats-his-face-Jorah-or-Jonah-whatever says Xaro runs the city... isn’t Xaro one of the warlocks... I thought all the warlocks died... I’m confused. Aren’t the 13 dudes who run the city called the warlocks? Or is the creepy bald dude the only warlock? I am so confused. I nearly forgot that Maester Luwin thought the boys were actually dead when he saw the bodies... which breaks my heart... but now he’s figuring out they’re not so yay.

Wow. Bran is gonna be sooooo messed up.

So, I followed along decently well for not having watched the show in over a year. Now I got a couple more weeks to attempt to catch up before the finale. Because otherwise I’ll be spoiled and probably not even want to finish the show.

I MIGHT go look up a summary of a few Qarth episodes to figure out the warlock thing...

OK. So the thirteen dudes are called the Thirteen. Duh. I should have remembered that. And 11 of them are dead. Xaro declared himself king ruler or whatever. Pree the undead warlock dude multiplied himself and killed the 11 of them, I remembered that much and the recap reminded me of that. I don’t know why I called them all warlocks. I was and still am very confused. But at least now I know Xaro’s alive and the undead dude’s name is Pree. I prefer calling him Undead Dude though.

#hope watches game of thrones #ignore me if you want

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imakeficrequestsandthendisappear · 6 years

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When You Say My Name CH7

Author: YoungDumbandFullofHeadcanons /https://imakeficrequestsandthendisappear.tumblr.com/

Summary: Being an Army brat means that every new town is a chance to start over. When the Criss family moves to Derry, Vicky Criss dies so Vic can start living.

Pre-IT (2017), AU: Trans!Vic Centric, Henry/Vic Slow burn

Angst  Fluff  More Angst  Smut  Even More Angst Playing fast and loose with the canon

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Major Character Death Rape/Non-Con Underage

Category: M/M

Fandoms: IT (2017) IT - Stephen King

Relationship: Henry Bowers/Victor Criss

Characters: Henry Bowers Victor Criss Patrick Hockstetter Reginald “Belch” Huggins Henry Bowers’s Gang (IT) Oscar “Butch” BowersThe Losers Club (IT) Pennywise (IT)

Language:English

Chapter 7: Henry Part 2

Summary: Henry can’t gather the air necessary to sob, so he just keeps sputtering and choking until his face turns red.

So Vic leans down and cages his arms around Henry’s head, blocking out the sound and light around him, intending on helping him breath threw the panic. But instead Henry reaches up, latches digging fingers into Vic’s sides, drags him down and screams into his chest.

March, 1986

Digging through the cupboard under the bathroom sink, Vic finally comes across the pink bag he hasn’t seen years. He unzips it and finds the contents to be exactly what he remembers always being it there. A roll of medical tape, a fatter roll of elastic gauze, tiny blister-sized invisible Band-Aids, disinfectant spray, and a host of other practical tools for on-the-spot medical treatment.

Vic dumps all the supplies into his backpack, because God knows he’s not bringing a fucking pink fanny-pack to school tomorrow.

Yesterday Henry walked around school with that limp in his left ankle more pronounced than ever. He still drug Vic around by the wrist, like always, but he was moving slowly and wincing every few steps, and when he tried to sit down his foot rolled under the pressure and he fell to the grass.

So today at lunch, as they sit in their hidden alcove beside the school building, Vic shows Henry how to tape and wrap his sprained ankle. Henry is ambivalent, or some cross between irate and panicked, about taking his shoe and sock off and rolling up his pant leg. Yes, the bruise is absolutely heinous, all green and purple and splotchy, but Vic doesn’t say anything about it to make Henry any more uncomfortable.

“How’d you learn this?” Henry asks as Vic makes sure the gauze aren’t too tight but will still support the weakened bones.

“Umm…” Vic stalls.

Don’t say it. Don’t tell Henry about dance class.

“…Like, sports and stuff.” He lies with a shrug.

Henry gives him a skeptical look, but otherwise drops the subject as he puts his shoe back on over the bandages.

Vic hasn’t been in a dance class since fourth grade. It was one of those extracurricular activities that Mom thought would be so much fun for her girls, but it turned out to be too much of a commitment and way too stressful and the bills had started to pile up. Plus, Vic’s hatred for ballet escalated to the point where he would purposefully land wrong on his feet, hoping he would break a bone and get to sit out. Hence the need for Mom to fill a fanny pack with medical tape and bandages, and of course it had to be pink.

Every day has gotten progressively better since he and Henry had started hanging out. The human contact seems to be putting some life back in them. Vic doesn’t feel as much like a ghost anymore. Henry looks a little less dead behind the eyes. The physical side hasn’t improved, both still came to school battle-worn and bloody, but being around each other gives them the chance to heal.

After their first conversation, Vic thought maybe things would just go back to the previous silent indifference they had had for one another. But the very next day after third period Henry walked right back up to Vic’s desk, grabbed him by the wrist, and led him outside again.

“Come on,” Henry says.

Vic doesn't even have to think twice.

The firm hold Henry takes on him is a little straining, and one time the hall was crowed so Henry pulled on his arm a little too hard, but every day it is a relief to feel that hand on his wrist. If Henry didn’t grab on and pull him around like that, Vic would be too afraid to follow him. Because, what if Henry got sick of him? What if he was too weird and Henry didn’t want him around? What if Henry started ignoring him? Like everyone ignores him. So Vic takes that painful grip as a sign that Henry does want to hang out with him and for once he feels wanted.

They keep tabs on each other’s new bruises and cuts, but they never talk about where they come from, because to say it aloud would mean having to face something both boys want to forget. Even only for a short time, they just want to pretend it isn’t happening.

“Where’d you move from?” Henry asks.

Vic huffs out a breath and considers the mental list.

“Connecticut, New York, Maryland, umm… Michigan for a little bit. Everywhere basically.”

Everywhere and nowhere.

“Why?” Henry seems genuinely curious, and there is a need for escape that makes him want to know about places outside of Derry. To know there’s a world beyond the town he’s trapped in.

“My dad’s in the army. We moved like every year.”

Henry regards him somberly, which seems strange to Vic because what he said didn’t seem particularly sad or anything. Moving is just what army families do.

But Henry is starting to realize that moving to a new place isn’t always an escape. Sometimes you can go everywhere in the world and still be trapped.

“My dad was in the marines,” Henry finally says, absently chewing on his thumb nail again.

And Vic starts to understand.

So they don’t talk about their bruises or their fathers, because the two subjects are essentially indivisible. But they find other things to talk about. Comic books, video games, movies, people at school they don’t like, some new trouble Henry got in, and the list goes on. And sometimes they don’t have to talk at all, they just like being around each other.

In the mornings Henry has started lifting his head from the desk when Vic would come to class, not as a proper greeting but just as a way of acknowledging his presence. If Gretta was being particularly annoying in Homeroom, and Gretta hates the both of them now, the boys give each other sneering side glances and roll their eyes. Vic would let Henry copy his answers, and they would get matching C-’s. If Ms. Donovan has caught on, she doesn’t do anything about it, because she’s just glad that there is some semblance of peace in the back of the classroom.

After a week had gone by, Vic walked into third period and went to sit down in his usual spot by the door. And then suddenly Henry was beside him.

“Vic.”

A thrilling shiver goes up his spine, but not the bad kind like when Vic hears Daddy’s voice down the hall. Something about hearing anybody say his name, especially Henry, sends a warm tingle through him like an electric current.

“Yeah?” He says, barely audible.

Henry just cocks his head to one side to gesture to the back of the class where he usually sits, and Vic follows him over.

And now they sit together in every class they share.

It took Vic a few days to realize that Henry doesn’t bring any lunch to school.

Vic pulls the paper bag out of his backpack, knowing that the tight knot in his gut is keeping his appetite at bay.

“Do you want some?” He gets up the nerve to say.

Because sometimes Henry is defensive about certain things and Vic doesn’t want to make him upset.

“No.” Henry says with a glare. So this is one of those things that set him off.

“I’m not gonna eat all of it, really.” Vic presses just a bit, cautious but well-meaning.

A few moments of silence pass, but finally Henry does take half the sandwich offered to him, and Vic decides to eat the other half to try and make Henry more comfortable.

As stubborn as he was before, Henry tears into the sandwich like he’s absolutely starving. And being around Henry eating makes it a little easier for Vic to swallow down a few bites.

Days later, they sit down and Henry pulls a lunch bag out of nowhere.

“Where’d you get that?” Vic asks, because he doesn’t believe for a second that Henry brought it from home.

“Don’t worry about it” Henry says as he rips it open, revealing a PB&J sandwich, a pack of Oreos, a bag of chips, and a half-dozen pixie sticks. “Fat-ass doesn’t need it anyway.”

And Vic does feel a twinge of guilt, but as Henry digs in Vic is reminded that he doesn’t get enough to eat as it is. One stolen lunch can’t hurt.

Despite his ravenous hunger, Henry makes Vic split all the junk food with him. And even though he didn’t think he was hungry, Vic feels marginally better after eating and doesn’t even get a stomach ache from all the sugar.

So Vic makes sure Henry has food to eat, and Henry makes sure Vic eats the food he has. And they don’t say it in so many words but that’s how they take care of each other.

Some people start to notice the two of them leashed to each other, but mostly it’s kids in their grade that know to stay away from Henry Bowers, so Vic doesn’t hear anything about it. The only person who really took issue with the situation was Vic’s sister.

A week ago Daphne pulled him aside while they were waiting for Mom to pick them.

”Who’s that boy you were with all day?” She asks with whispered malice.

He is frozen for a minute, because Daphne hasn’t spoken to him, at school or home, for weeks.

“Um- He’s just somebody I know from class.”

Vic doesn’t want to jinx things by calling Henry his friend yet, because he’s hasn’t really had one before and definitely never one that was another boy, so he doesn’t want to ruin it now.

Daphne gives him an accusing look, and Vic feels his resentment rise.

“You get to hang out with people,” He reminds her.

Daphne already has a bunch of other girls to sit with at lunch. Lucy has her friends come over after school sometimes. Sophie is on the phone with boys when she thinks no one is around. So why can’t Vic have one person to talk to?

“I heard that he steals stuff and beats up little kids for fun.” She accuses.

“Those are rumors.” Vic tries to shrug it off, even though he has heard those same rumors float around the halls.

“If Daddy finds out then-” She half-warns half-threatens.

“You’re not gonna tell him.” Vic cuts her off with a biting tone.

For a second she looks mad enough that she would, because Vic doesn’t ever stand up to her and she wants to assert her older-sibling authority. His resolve cracks a little at the thought.

“Daph, please don’t tell?” He tries to appease her. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Henry’s just someone from class.”

And finally she seems to relent, because she sees the marks on her (Sister’s? Brother’s? She doesn’t know what to think anymore) skin from his last run in with Daddy a few nights ago. Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t say anything about this after all. And if anyone finds out, she can just feign innocence to knowing about it.

“Fine.”

“Thanks,” Vic says, but Daphne has already turned away from him and is walking towards Mom’s car as it pulls up.

And so Daphne kept quiet about him and Henry, but she occasionally shoots him a concerned look from across the hall when she sees them together.

With the gauze on, Henry has an easier time getting through the rest of the day. It still seems like it hurts, but now he can walk a little faster and the ankle doesn’t roll when he has to put weight on it. In sixth period Vic reminds him to unwrap it to before bed and prop his leg up for the night. Then they part ways, Henry walks around behind the school and through the woods to get home, and Vic goes to wait for his mother.

The night passes without incident.

The next morning is Friday, and as Mom drives them to school she lets them know she has some errands to run this afternoon, so the kids have to walk home. Mom gives Sophie the spare key, and while the girls complain about the inconvenience (it’s not even that far of a walk, jeez) Vic sort of looks forward to not having to ride home with his sisters.

But when Vic walks into Homeroom, Henry’s not at his desk. Henry isn’t here at all. For a moment Vic just stands looking at their desks, feeling lost and overexposed as he sits down alone. His mind swings between two extremes for explanation. One terrifying possibility: Henry finally got sick of Vic following him like a shadow and maybe somehow figured out that Vic’s not normal and is so disgusted that won’t even show up to school. Or equally possible and but more terrifying: Henry was hurt so awfully bad that he couldn’t even come to school, because the worst beatings Vic gets every few weeks are what Henry gets everyday, so what happens if his skull cracks or his neck brakes or his lung is punctured and no one’s around to help him?

Vic drops his head to the desk, breathing heavy pants into his palms and trying to fight back the budding anxiety attack. Henry had a sprained ankle yesterday, so if his dad came after him, he wouldn’t be able to get away.

Then Henry appears in the doorway, hanging on the door jam and leaning into his right side. For a second he just stands there, and Vic wonders if he is really there, or if this is some anxiety driven hallucination. But Henry starts stumbling forward, looking like every step hurts him all over, and arms wrapped around his middle protectively and sliding across the wall to get to his desk. It takes him a long time to finally sit down, and the other kids around try not to gawk at him too conspicuously. One girl looks at his cringing, quaking form for a second to long and Henry growls at her.

Vic wants to jump up, help Henry sit down and check him over. Because whatever is wrong isn’t immediately visible, but is looks absolutely excruciating. But Vic is frozen because Henry looks feral, spine rigid, shoulders hunched, and the anger in his hooded eyes is burning like an inferno. Vic feels a mix of pain and sorrow and empathy, but also fear. Henry looks like a puppy that survived a dog fight, but came out wounded and ready to snap his jaws and bite.

Finally, after eons of painful staggering, Henry collapses into his seat and curls so far into himself that he almost disappears. The teacher doesn’t even look twice.

“Henry?” Vic whispers, lying his head on his desk to get closer to Henry’s level.

The boy doesn’t respond, but when Vic gets real close he can hear the wheezing shallow breaths Henry sucks in and heaves out. Vic reaches out as gently and slowly as he can and brushes the tips of his fingers over Henry’s shoulder blade, and Henry flinches and trembles violently at the contact, but he has no physical power to make the touch stop. Pulling his hand away quickly, Vic feels his stomach drop and his eyes prickle.

Both boys spend the class with their heads down. Vic tries to whisper to Henry every few minutes, but never gets a response. Henry just sinks further into himself.

By third period Henry still won’t talk, he doesn’t even move when the bell for lunch rings. So Vic takes the initiative to, as cautiously as he can, grab onto the sleeve of Henry’s sweatshirt and guide Henry up and out of the classroom. He sticks to a slow pace and they take frequent pauses so Henry can choke down some air, but they eventually make it to their spot. They sit down onto the cold grass as softly as possible, but Henry still winces.

The angry inferno in Henry’s eyes is dead now, just smoldering embers are left. Vic plants himself in front him, because as scared and anxious as he is, he resolves to help Henry through the pain.

“Henry, what happened? Where does it hurt?” Vic is still whispering even though they are far away from anybody else.

Henry makes a low, whining sound in the back of his throat before finally finding his voice.

“It’s nothing” He slurs softly, eyes drifting shut.

“No it’s not,” Vic says with a little too much force.

It’s not nothing. It’s never nothing. And it’s not fair, and it’s not right, that they always have to pretend it's nothing.

Henry flinches back but offers nothing else. He’s still holding his stomach, hunched over with arms crossed tight over his midsection.

Reaching over, Vic gently but firmly tugs Henry’s arms away and tries to pull up his shirt.

“Stop,” Henry rasps, tightening his arms.

But Vic keeps at it, more assertive this time.

“Stop it,” Henry bares his teeth and says a little louder.

Vic is undeterred, pushing him back aggressively to see what Henry’s trying to protect.

“Stop!” Henry screams this time, and in an instant swings up his arm and clocks Vic in the jaw with the side of his fist.

The impact hurts and it takes Vic back for a second, but instead of freezing and crumbling like when Daddy hits him, he feels a fire light in his veins. Vic pushes Henry onto his back, even as Henry throws more blows and tries to shove him away, so Vic pins his fists to the ground. Henry is undeniable bigger and stronger than Vic, but the pain he’s in makes him malleable to the hold.

Then the fight just drops out of Henry like he’s died on the spot. For a second Vic thinks the boy has passed out, but his eyes are open and moving. It just seems like Henry has left his body and his mind is off floating somewhere else.

The sight is unnerving but Vic pushes through and finally gets a look under Henry’s shirt.

Across the whole right side of his chest and ribs is a field of black and blue, and instead of swollen, the area looks sunken in on itself. Vic studies the injury, thinking through his mental catalogue of all the marks he’s seen on Henry. Punches leave dark round Dalmatian spots, impacts (like against the wall or to the ground) leave oblong marks on skin raised by bone that fade out. No this looks like Henry was already on the ground, curled into his side, as kick after kick after kick was laid into his ribs. Until they cracked. Until something broke. Until the bent bones pressed into his lung and made it difficult to breath.

Until Henry had to give in to the pain and float off from his body, like he’s doing now.

“Henry can you hear me?” Vic tries to bring him back.

He’s still limp and unmoving, but after a second his eyes focus again and he looks up at Vic. And then tears just start to overflow from his eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Vic says softly, fingers running across the rib cage until he feels the one that dents inwards.

The tears are really coming now, in big fat streams that map out the curves of Henry’s face.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Vic says again, pulling his hands off Henry’s ribs.

Henry can’t gather the air necessary to sob, so he just keeps sputtering and choking until his face turns red.

Tears soak into his shirt as Henry cries against him. For once Henry is feeling so overwhelmed but also just safe enough to let it out. The screaming continues, muffled enough by their closeness to not draw any attention, but the anger and the shame and the pain is still in every strain of his vocal cords. Vic just stays still, letting Henry hold on as tight as he needs despite the jabbing fingers in his sides.

The bell rings for fourth period and Vic just ignores it.

Finally the convulsions and screams die down, and Henry only stutters out a few sobs like a dying engine. Henry drops his arms and Vic slowly peels himself back from over the crying boy.

“Henr-” Vic starts, not having a real direction for his thoughts.

“I’m fine,” Henry says, or tries to say through hiccupping breaths, and he slowly sits up and winces in pain.

He’s wiping his eyes, shoulders hunched in and trying to put distance between him and Vic.

“Shut up,” Henry snaps, despite the fact Vic hasn’t said anything.

After a moment of averting eyes from each other and sitting in silence, Vic at last finds his voice again.

“Do you…” Vic pauses when Henry levels a dark glare at him, “…wanna stay at my house tonight?”

And Henry sits speechless for a moment, unbelieving and skeptical, but he nods slowly anyway.

Hours later, the walk home from school is slow and painful but Henry doesn’t complain about the ache. By the time they get to Vic’s house the girls have been home for a while, Daphne and Sophie upstairs, and Lucy already left to go hang out with friends. They don’t seem to care that Vic didn’t get home as promptly as they did, but at least they left the door unlocked for him.

Vic makes sure the ground floor is all empty as they come in, and then he leads Henry over to the couch and makes him sit. Henry is breathing through the pain, but the tears have stopped and he seems less tense than he was the whole day.

With Henry settled, Vic goes to the kitchen and fills a plastic bag with ice and comes back to the living room. Making him lie against the arm of the couch, Vic sets the ice as gently as he can against Henry’s side.

The two sit in silence for a while, letting the ice numb Henry’s side, and then Vic turns on the T.V. and flips through channels until he finds some action movie playing. Despite the explosions and gun shots coming through the T.V., a calm spell is cast across the room.

Henry is struck by how quiet it is, how safe he feels despite the pain and uncertainty. He reaches over and grabs Vic’s wrist, weaker than he does when pulling him around school, and just holds in the space between them. Vic doesn’t make a move towards or away, because he’s realizing that this is the only kind of contact Henry is comfortable with. And maybe Vic likes it too.

The movie ends and another starts up, so they just let it run and watch passively. Vic thanks God for when his sister’s don’t come downstairs all afternoon. They both start to sag from exhaustion, the day being both emotionally and physically straining, and they are almost dozing when Vic’s mother comes through the door.

“Oh!” She says in surprise, waking the boys fully.

Henry immediately drops his hold on Vic’s arm and tries to sit up, looking ready to bolt like a frightened animal.

For a moment Mom just stares at them, unbelieving that she somehow now has two boys in her home when a short time ago she had none.

“Hey Mom…” Vic tries to act normal, because they can’t just stare at each other like they can make the other disappear, “This, um… this is Henry. We have class together.”

And then they snap back to normal, or well, Henry drops his head to look at the floor, Vic sinks into himself, and Mom looks overwhelmed but willing to pretend like that everything is fine.

“A-alright. So were you doing homework together…?” She tries to justify to herself.

“Yeah,” Vic answers too quickly, because Henry’s never done homework in his life and they skipped two classes today so they could sit together outside.

“Mhmm,” Mom says, clearly not believing her own excuse, but not willing or able to start an argument about the real situation. She starts to walk towards the kitchen. “Henry, would you like to stay for dinner?”

Henry looks really uncomfortable with being spoke to, and he looks over to Vic in panic.

“Okay?” He says quietly.

So Mom goes into the kitchen without acknowledging Henry’s response, and after a second Vic follows her in.

“What are you doing!?!” she hisses at him in a hushed voice when they’re alone.

Vic is already prepared to counter.

“They have friends over all the time,” he whispers back, gesturing upstairs in reference to his sisters.

“This is different Victo-”

“Shhh!” Vic hushes her before she can say it.

Mom looks angry and tired and high-strung all at once, but her resolve is starting to crumble. Maybe the best thing to do is just tell the truth, because he’s tired of making up excuses.

“Mom, Henry…got hurt really bad,” He hopes she catches the meaning in his eyes. “He can’t go home right now.”

A film of shame overtakes her eyes, because she understands the intent and why Vic wants to help the other boy. Because no one is helping him.

“Your father can’t know.” She finally says in concession.

“I know.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

And then the conversation is over. Vic goes back to the living room and sits beside Henry, who looks unsure and awkward all alone. As Mom makes dinner, Vic brushes the back of his hand against Henry’s as a silent reassurance, because with someone else around Henry won’t grab his wrist.

They get called in for dinner, as if Vic has ever been called to dinner in the last three months, and he and Henry stand and set aside the half melted ice pack. Henry silently refuses to let Vic help him to the kitchen, and his side must be numb by now because his steps are stiff but look less pained than before. Though when they sit at the table he does stutter out the smallest of strained gasps.

Mom dishes up their plates like she’s June fucking Cleaver, like she always does when company is over and she has to revert to a perfectly nice housewife. Sophie and Daphne come down and look at the boys at the table in surprise, but Mom gives them a warning look to stay quiet about it. Vic is content to ignore their probing glances so Henry follows suit. So all the kids sit in silence and eat. Henry seems to be holding himself back, because he’s picking at his food slowly but Vic knows he hasn’t had anything to eat all day. Or maybe eating with a cracked rib is more uncomfortable than hunger. Vic is eating at just the same slow pace, despite also not eating lunch today, until Henry gives him just the barest of looks and gestures to the food. So he starts eating a little faster just because Henry is concerned enough about him. And after a concerned look back, Henry obeys and eats a bit more off his plate.

But then Mom breaks their silent conversation.

“So Henry, have I met your mother yet? Is she in the PTA?” Mom says from the counter, where she’s not eating, just standing there and hovering.

Henry freezes and his shoulders stiffen.

“No.” He says quietly, unclear to which half of the question he is answering.

Vic shoots a glare at his mother. Like you even go to PTA meetings, don’t even pretend. But then he is slightly more distressed by Henry’s hand quivering as he stabs another bite.

“Oh. Well, what does your father do?” She keeps probing, like someone would poke at a bear in a cage.

Henry just sets the fork down before he can get it to his mouth, head dropping towards his lap.

Vic wants to throw his plate at his mother as hard as he can.

“My dad’s a cop.” Henry says with a shrug, and that brief description doesn’t say a thing about what his father does.

“Hmm.” Mom makes one of those conversation ending noises again.

If only the conversation hadn’t started at all.

Neither boy is interested in eating anymore.

“Mom, can we be excused?” Vic asks, hiding his disdain behind the facade of table manners.

She doesn’t really seem to care, responding with a wave of her hand as she tidies up the kitchen.

They leave their plates on the table but can’t get out of the room before Mom prods one more time.

“Do you need a ride home Henry?” She says, like she’s forgotten what Vic had told her earlier.

“No ma’am,” Henry says, standing behind Vic and trying to disappear into the wall. “I can walk.”

Coming back into the living room, Vic can feel Henry’s discomfort emanating off him, and he can hear his mom and sisters whispering to each other. Probably talking about them. Henry’s leaning into his side again as he grabs his backpack and goes towards the door. Vic reaches out and grabs his sleeve to stop him.

“Don’t I have to go?” Henry asks quietly, voice quivering just slightly like he’s on the edge of another breakdown.

Vic shakes his head, and motions for Henry to be silent. Grabbing both their backpacks, he leads Henry to the spare room down the hall. Setting their stuff down, Vic goes back into the living room and grabs some extra cushions and the throw blankets off the couch.

As he lays the cushions down Henry looks on confused. And Vic doesn’t really know what he’s doing either, because he’s never had a sleepover, and Henry doesn’t seem like he’s ever been to one, but this one is less about fun and more about safety.

The lie down in the quiet room, Henry’s just relieved that he can take the weight off his side and Vic is glad they are alone again. Henry pulls over his backpack and reveals that instead of textbooks Henry just brings a stack of comic books to school, so they spend a few hours switching issues back and forth and just enjoy being near each other in the small room.

The sun sets and the room is still warm from the last rays of sunlight. The dark, the quiet, the heat, the feeling of food in their stomachs, the safety they feel isolated off from the world, the comfort they get from each other, all finally outweigh the heavier traumas that they live with and both boys fall asleep.

They wake with a jolt about an hour later, because the front door opens loudly and heavy footsteps are coming towards the room and-

It’s okay, it’s just Daddy getting home.

Henry seems petrified still, but Vic slowly crawls over to the door and peeks under the gap between the door and the carpet. He watches his father’s shadow move across the floor, coming closer to the spare room before going up the stairs.

Vic gives Henry a relieved nod and they both relax and let out the breaths they’d been holding. Settling back down into their nest of blankets and cushions, it takes a little longer to get back into that peaceful headspace they had before, but finally they do fall back into that heavy dreamless sleep, lulled by the slowing beats of their hearts and the steady rhythm of each other’s breathing.

Woken at dawn by the front door opening and closing again as Daddy goes to work, Vic blinks slowly and it takes him a second to realize that Henry is awake too, and looking back at him. They just watch each other, all the internal walls down and insides vulnerable.

Henry reaches over in their trance, only an arm’s length away from Vic, and with only the slightest tremble and hesitation, he grabs Vic’s hand and laces their finger’s together. This isn’t a tight grip on a wrist, or a tugging hold on sweatshirt sleeve, this is real flesh to flesh hand holding. Henry squeezes just enough that Vic knows that this means thank you, but the affection is kind of overwhelming for both of them so they swiftly let go and pretend it didn’t happen.

Awake now, they sit up and Henry rolls form one hip to the other to test the pain in his ribs.

“How’s it feel?” Vic asks, wanting to feel the soft spot to check it over.

“Better,” Henry confirms honestly after a moment, so Vic resists his urge to touch.

They make their way into the dim living room, picking up the cushions and blankets and resetting them on the couch. Vic makes them bowls of cereal and they eat on the living room floor while watching Saturday morning cartoons. They don’t talk and the T.V. volume is on low, so not to wake anyone else in the house.

After a while they start to hear stirring upstairs. Henry checks the clock on the wall and confirms that his dad’s at work by now so he can go home. Vic wants to tell him to stay, but knows that he’s pushing his luck with Mom already.

So Henry grabs his bag and Vic walks with him to the front porch. The early spring morning is cold but the sun is shining bright in the blue sky. Henry steps out onto the porch and they give each other just the briefest of glances as he leaves, walking through the yard and down the side walk without looking back.

Vic watches him go from the door way, noticing that his steps still seem stilted but looks like he’s only in a moderate amount of pain compared to yesterday. Then he closes the door and wonders how he’s going to pretend everything is back to normal by Monday.

Notes: Link to AO3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/12399036/chapters/28570732

Me: I won't write an extra long chapter again.

Me to me: Add more stuff, make it even more gay.

So I know I said this was a slow burn but aren't they already the cutest little boyfriends ever!?!

Also if you haven't seen the video of logan thompson dancing to rihanna you are not living. look it up.

Required fanny pack reference: check (this fandom is so weird. i love it)

I hope I didn't keep ya'll waiting to long on this one, and I hope you like it. <3 <3 Pleaseessses leave me comments i live off them. it makes me so happy to hear from you guys. tell me what you think, tell me bout your day, tell me bout your it headcanons, call my mom a whore, literally anything. i love you all.

XOXO

YDFH

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