#pretend you dont see the bits of mess scattered around look away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loving-all-for-loki · 3 years

Note

i really love your writing sm. could I maybe request something with Loki and reader being slow to realize that the feeling is mutual? if you dont mind <3

A/N: Thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoy my writing, that makes me very happy to hear. I tried my best with this, I wasn’t really sure how to go about it, but I think I did a fun little twist to it. The italics are flashbacks. ALSO, you don’t need to know the song “Stuck In The Middle” to read this, but it will make this fic a little bit cuter if you do, so go stream it! It’s by Tai Verdes (actually just go listen to his whole album TV). I hope you enjoy this, nonnie.

Stuck In The Middle

Loki x reader

Word count: 2255

Warnings: fluff, maybe swearing I don't remember lol

Tony decided to throw another one of his giant parties, but no one is really sure why. There’s no holiday, no accomplishment to celebrate. All you know is that the tower is filled to the brim with high named people and well rounded faces. Music is blaring as people lounge around drinking or casually dancing. The Avengers are all around, scattered among the faces.

You on the other hand are leaning against a wall drinking some pop and trying to ignore the creepy men that hit on you. Parties are fine, you don’t mind them, but you don't go around gloating about your business or accomplishments. You watch Tony walk around getting praised by millionaires and celebrities with a smirk on your face. Shaking your head, you look down and give your glass of water more attention than the people.

“You really should get out there.”

Steve stands next to you with his little suit on that makes you laugh. You’re not used to seeing him all dressed up.

“I’m not a boaster. I’ll dance here and there, but conversation isn’t my forte.”

“You're having a conversation with me, so what does that say?” He laughs.

“I don’t need your technicalities, Cap,” you laugh as well.

“You don’t even have to talk to people you don’t know. We’re all here.”

“Fair enough.”

“Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“No, Steve. Go have fun.”

He smiles at you before returning to his seat at the bar by Bucky and Sam. You smile at the three of them. You do truly love your friends, even if they bother you during alone time.

“Why would you enjoy them if they bother you?”

“Loki, stop reading my mind.”

“I can’t. You’re quite loud,” he jokes.

You roll your eyes as you take another sip of your water.

“Do you not like these grand parties?” He asks.

“Eh, I don’t mind them. Just not a bragger.”

“Ah, yes. One night dedicated to gloating about your own accomplishments while putting down others.”

“No, that’s the Oscars,” you joke.

“Who is Oscar?”

“Never mind. Why you go out and dance? I bet you have some moves.”

“Not without a partner. I’m more of a partner dancer.”

“Well, there’s plenty of pretty girls around you to ask to dance.”

“Why dance with a pretty girl when I have the most beautiful one right here leaning against a wall and ignoring everyone? That’s more my style.”

“Loki, I’m flatter,” you laugh, “is this your way of asking me to dance?”

“Possibly. Thor has been bugging me to ‘get out there’ and I don’t like anyone here beside you.”

“Such a gentleman.”

Loki rolls his eyes as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the dance floor. The song changes into a fun chill song you recognize as “Stuck In The Middle”. You and Loki dance together as the two of you laugh. At some point, he pulls you into him, holding him at your chest.

“Remember when we first met?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do. You were arguing with Tony and Thor.”

“I want to return to Asgard and I will no matter what you say.”

“You’re a war criminal serving time here for your attacks. If you even attempted to go back, the American army would shoot you down.”

“And good luck to them.”

“My brother is a god, Man of Iron, do not forget.”

“Shut it, point break. You can try to leave if you want to die.”

Loki scoffs at Tony’s threat. As he goes to open his mouth, he sees a girl wander into the living area and scour the kitchen. The three watch her in silent and she opens every cabinet. Loki is curious by the girl with her long black hair and sweats on, clearing not caring about the argument happening. She finally turns around with her mouth filled with pretzels from shoving them in. She looks at the two gods and Tony with a wide eyed look, clearly asking “what” in her face and shrugging.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asks after swallowing.

Tony laughs and shakes his head, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re fine, sweetheart. We’re just having a disagreement. Go enjoy your pretzels,” Tony chuckles.

Loki watches the way she submits to Tony and follows his lead, wondering who she is and why she listens to Tony without hesitation.

“I was so intrigued by you, this small little thing who looked so full of life. What happened to her?”

You laugh hard, “You got to know me, that’s what.”

Loki hadn’t seen the innocent girl in two weeks, wondering if she was even real. There had been some kind of glow to her so had he known better, he’d say she’s an angel.

Loki decided to coop himself up in the library while he was stuck on Midgard. Since he was stuck here, he thought he’d at least spend time doing something enjoyable. He’d spend hours in there until he had read every book and started to reread them. Then, as if the universe had heard him, the innocent girl had returned, putting a book away and getting a new one. She immediately walked out of the room and down to the tower’s elevator. Without hesitation, Loki got up and followed her at a quick pace, wanting to get in the elevator at the same time. As he walked in, they stood in silence next to each other and Loki realized he had no plan.

“I’m Loki. I don’t think we properly met.”

“Y/N.”

Loki feels his heart pound as she speaks to him with her heavenly tone. She sounds exactly like he thought she’d sound. It fits her so perfectly and he wants nothing more than to listen to her talk all day.

“I apologize for anything you heard the other day. Stark and I don’t see eye to eye.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughs, “He can strike a nerve sometimes.”

“That is an understatement,” Loki says, losing himself in his anger towards the billionaire.

You laugh at his comment which eases his anger. Loki is filled with joy knowing you find humor in his words, learning you’re not as stuck up as the other Midgardians.

“You read?”

“Yes, I love to.”

“What’s your favorite book?”

“Sense and Sensibility.”

“I don’t think I know that one.”

“It’s a Midgardian classic,” you say with some snark.

“I’ll have to read it. May I ask what you are doing for the rest of the day?”

The elevator opens and the two of you walk off, Loki still following you with awe.

“I’m going to spar with Steve for a little bit. You can join if you want.”

“I will not participate, but will not refuse to be of company.”

You smile at him as you walk towards the training room. Steve stands there getting ready and is surprised to see the stoic god behind you.

“Is he joining?”

“Just to watch.”

Loki sits down on the bench and leaves you to get changed and stretch. He can’t comprehend how something as sweet as you can be so willing to fight one of the super soldiers. He can’t even lie that he’s scared for you, but he’s soon proven wrong in seconds as you knock Steve down to the ground in a sweet kick. You and the super soldier go at it and you prove to be a worthy match for Steve. Loki is shocked by your swiftness and strength, clearly underestimating you.

“Well, I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t expect you to be as tough as you are.” “Wow, you underestimated me. I’m hurt, Loki,” you tease.

“I’ve learned to expect the unexpected with you.”

“How so?”

“I think we all remember your silly holiday ‘April fools’.”

April fools is one of your favorite holidays and now that the trickster god is living with you, all of the avengers are on high alert all day. No one realized he didn’t know about the special day, so Loki wondered why everyone seemed to ignore him more than usual. He walked into the living space to see you sitting on the couch with another book.

“Did I do something?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m aware I’m not well liked, but it seems that I haven’t seen anyone all day except for you right now.”

“It’s because its’ April fools and they’re scared of you.”

A little ping of pride hits Loki.

“They’re scared of me? And what is April fools?”

“It’s a dumb holiday here where you prank people and they’re worried you’re going to pull something. After all, you are you.”

“You have a whole day dedicated to messing with people?”

“Yeah, usually it’s something simple like telling people you’re pregnant when you’re not or tying the spray nozzle on the sink together so everyone gets wet when they use it. Other people go big which is what they expected from you.”

“That doesn’t shock me,” he laughs.

“Yeah, I wanted to prank them, but I think they’ve left the building entirely.”

“You say we have the tower to the two of us?” Loki can think of a couple ways he’d spend alone time with you, but the idea of messing with the Avengers with your help is too tempting. He’ll have to put his other ideas to the side for the moment. “We can still do something.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not sure, but you could think of something, I’m sure.”

“We could glue everything down so you can use anything?”

“Like stick the together?”

“Exactly, but we could use your magic so we could reverse it later.”

“I like how you think.”

About two hours later, the Avengers return from wherever they had been throughout the day and run to their rooms to avoid Loki. As soon as they noticed the two of you relaxing on the couch, they tensed up and sprinted. You pretended to not have told Loki about anything and watched them get nervous, trying to hide your amusement.

It’s only minutes later when they all run back in yelling at you about how they can’t pick anything up or open drawers. Loki looks over to you among the chaos and smiles, seeing the wide proud smile across your face.

“That was a lot of fun. You surprised me in the past though, too.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He laughs.

You had gotten hurt on a mission and found yourself with a broken arm. Every day activities became 10x harder because you have to do it with your non-dominant hand and it’s started to get annoying. You’ve been attempting to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for about 25 minutes now. Loki walked in to see you struggling with peanut butter all over your hand and a glob on the bread. There’s a giant tear in the middle of the piece you’re spreading it on and a frown on your face.

“You look like you’re struggling.”

“Thank you, captain obvious!” You exclaim in an angry tone, glaring daggers at the god.

“Do you need some help?”

“I would love some because clearly, I’m having some difficulty.”

Loki comes over and helps you finish making your sandwich. You sit down to eat but because of your bad mood, you don’t even want it now. Loki notices your distress and shakes it head, waving his hand by.

“You’re healed, now eat your sandwich.”

You look at him in confusion until you realize your arm doesn’t hurt as much when you move it. You rip off your cast and feel around to feel how your arm is completely healed.

“Thank you!”

“You can be very sweet sometimes.”

“Don’t let Stark hear that, he’ll think I have mind controlled you.”

The Avengers all sit around the bar and watch you and Loki dance. They have a big smile on their face as they see you two have fun, laughing and talking. Thor has never seen his brother look so relaxed and joyful before, it’s refreshing to see him happy. Steve and Tony don’t miss the way you look at Loki, it’s filled with more love than any friends would look at each with.

“You think there’s more there?” Thor asks.

Steve and Tony turn to look at him with confused yet amused faces. “Thor, you really are an idiot,” Tony laughs.

The song comes up to the last chorus and you and Loki have stopped talking. He swings you around and holds his body next to yours. The music get’s both of your attention.

Cause we’re stuck in the middle of lover and friends

And we’re losing every part of the benefits

You’ve hurt me more than I ever knew

But it’s shitty because I’m doing the same to you

As the lyrics set in, you remember all the things Loki has done for you. Making your PB&J, recommending books, keeping you company when the Avengers are away, dancing with you at New Years parties, giving you a hug when you return from missions, and not leaving your side when you’re hurt. Loki thinks of all the things that made you bearable. Your sense of humor, the smile on your face when you see him, the way you’ll reread books you love, the way you make fun of others with him, and how you defend him when they make fun of him.

“I think I like you,” you both say.

#loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki fan fiction #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki layfeyson x reader #loki oneshot #marvel x reader

133 notes · View notes

re1d · 4 years

Text

different lifetime | spencer reid

→ summary: “only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.” - george elio → warnings: maeve’s death, graphic descriptions of murder, mentions of depression and drug use, basically major angst but a fluff ending → word count: 4.4k (ouchie mama she’s a slow burn) → a/n: based on no.74 from the prompt list ; “let go.” “i can’t.” // cassandra stop making spencer cry in her stories challenge : FAILED // also this is my first time using time skips n i kinda dont like it :[[ i hope u guys enjoy it tho !!

Books are ripped from his shelves, and Spencer can’t see straight. Papers fly around him as he relishes in the feeling of the pages cutting into the skin of his fingers. Blood forms and begins to drip, but he can’t bring himself to clean it up. His mom would’ve chastized him in that moment for damaging the worlds with his reckless touch. However, his whole world had just been destroyed as well. Pictures of Maeve traipse through his brain at an agonizingly slow pace; they mock him and wait for him to snap. And, he feels as though it’s finally time to do so.

Spencer screeches into the silence of his apartment, undoubtedly waking up his neighbors and possibly even alerting the police. He tears through his hair with bloodcrusted hands and debates on wrenching it out from the roots. Sitting on the floor in a puddle of sorrow and anguish, Spencer sobs. It’s the first time in his life that he’s been so consumed with grief and guilt that he can’t even muster the strength to stand. He merely clutches The Narritive of John Smith to his chest and continues to fall apart.

As tears run down his cheeks, he denies everything that happened in the last few hours. Maeve is still going to meet him after work next Wednesday.You didn’t cover him with your FBI jacket after she was shot. The blood that poured from the gunshot wound in her head was fake. It was a joke—a painful, stupid, not-at-all funny joke. Tomorrow, he would enter the office, ride the elevator up, and make casual conversation with all of his work friends. Thoughts race through his mind, and he finds himself laughing. Laughing. A voice in the back of his head tells him that he’s in shock, that he’s not well. Another voice tells him that he’ll never be well.

He doesn’t know who to believe.

A rhythmic knock on his door sounds, and Spencer pretends not to hear it. He knows it’s you. Part of him is screaming to let you in, telling him to accept the comfort you’ve come to give him. But, he decides he isn’t ready. Not yet. So, you decide to wait. For Spencer, you’d wait until time itself no longer existed.

Night approaches faster than you think. The sun is a paintbrush as it dips into the horizon and paints one of the most beautiful sunsets you’ve ever seen. It’s merely a passing thought, but you hope Spencer wills himself to see the pleasant combination of warm oranges and deep reds that are smoothed across the dusk sky. Glancing down at your watch, you read the tiny numbers with tired eyes—8:02PM—and, that’s when you realize you’ve been sitting for so long that your butt has gone numb. You register the pins and needles beginning to poke at your backside, but you make no move to stand or to leave. All you do is lean back, your head thumping gently against Spencer’s door while closing your eyes.

Spencer has no knowledge of the countless baskets of goodies from Garcia or the small notes that JJ has left behind after her short visits come to a close. He doesn’t even know that you’re still outside of his apartment. He knows nothing but the monotonous whir of his air conditioning and the smell of Thai food coming from his living room. Spencer tries to focus on anything but Maeve, but his mind is scattered, fragmented. He grows frustrated at the fact that his thoughts are moving too fast to collect. Blood. Bodies. Sweat. Tears. The feeling of your hands on his shoulders. Normally, Spencer is excellent at compartmentalizing trauma, but not this time. Not when his first true love had been so unfairly stolen from him.

Rage simmers inside of him as the clock strikes twelve. He clenches his fists, resisting the overwhelming urge to scream once more. Instead, he palms for the book nearest to him. With his original, hard cover, full-Russian version of War and Peace in his hand, he swings his arm as hard as he can at his door. Specks of dust fall from the frame at the impact, and a chip is now visible in both the book and the wood. Spencer hears a small yelp from the other side, and finally, something other than grief overtakes him. Confusion and anxiety course through him as he forces himself to stand, grabbing a kitchen knife before launching his door open.

You topple over, crushing his toes under the full weight of your upper body. Profanities are exchanged as your stare flicks nervously between his face and the butcher knife in his grasp.

“[Y/N]?! What are you still doing here?!” He means to sound angry, but the rasp in his voice does the emotion no justice. The weakness in his words is easily detected, and you find yourself studying his features from the ground. You’re profiling him, but you can’t help it. His shoulders are hunched, his five o’clock shadow has turned to six, and his eyes dart cautiously around your face. It’s as if he’s making sure you don’t see the torture his own mind is subjecting his body to.

“Well,” you begin, tone gentle, “I came to see you, but you didn’t open the door. So, I thought that I would wait you out, you know? Just to make sure that if you needed someone to talk to, that I would be there—ready to listen.”

Spencer’s expression is blank, his eyes having stopped their search a long time ago. “How would you have stayed? You have work, [Y/N]. Work that we both know doesn’t stop for time to mourn.” There’s bitter vitriol in his words; he can’t bring himself to care about how they effect you for the time being. But, you don’t mind. It’s only natural. Finally pushing yourself up from the floor, you stare through him and have to fight the need to place a hand on his shoulder, to try to connect with him. The two of you are still separated by the threshold of his door, but it feels as though the Grand Canyon itself is in between.

“Spencer, I can’t even begin to fathom what you’re going through, but—.”

“No,” his retort is clipped, “you can’t. Goodbye, [Y/N].” The door is slammed once again, leaving you stunned to to silence. Sure, you had expected Spencer to be different, but nothing like that. Torrents of rain pound against the roof of his building as dread flows steadily through you at the thought of having to step into it. Nonetheless, you collect your things and head into the office hoping to distract yourself until you’re really supposed to be in for work. The time is 12:54AM, and as you attempt to hail a taxi in the storm, a chill travels down your spine. It’s hard to tell what caused it—the thought of leaving Spencer alone or the copious amounts of coffee you will inevitably be consuming later today.

────

Eight o’clock rolls around quicker than you hope. From the corner of your eye, you spot Penelope and JJ walking in together, their normally bright faces marred with concern. Eventually, the clicking of their heels comes to a halt in front of your desk. JJ takes a seat on top of the files you’re working, moving your recently emptied mug out of the way with a tight smile. Garcia’s crosses her arms with a hmph as she stares down at you. Neither of the women are hostile—it’s moreso agressive curiosity.

“So, [Y/N] ...” JJ’s voice trails off a bit, “You saw Spence?” The nature of the question is pure. Worry is evident in her words, but as you try to answer, nothing comes from your mouth.

Garcia cups your face in her hands, squeezing your cheeks to the point of discomfort. “[Y/N]. All we wanna know is that he’s okay?” She declares, “If you perhaps could comfirm if he has gotten my muffin basket, that would also be nice—but, Boy Wonder’s safety is always first!” The chipper mask she uses to hide the pain is crumbling away, and it’s easy to see.

“Honestly, guys ... He doesn’t look good. Spencer—he, uh, his apartment is a mess, like, books everywhere, three day old Thai food in the living room. I’m worried about him—and, Garcia, he hasn’t touched anything outside his door. It’s kinda like he’s trying to fight reality.” Your explanation is obviously hard for the two women to listen to. JJ’s face is turned down, her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth. Penelope’s colorful appearance seems to dim as words continue to fall from your mouth. She gapes, evidently trying to come up with something to say, but her phone chimes.

“Jeez,” Penelope drags in a sharp intake of air, “this is a bad one. Hotch wants us in the conference room ASAP.”

Sitting around the round table, you take in the information about the case. Two people, a man and a woman, bore holes in the insides of their thighs, exsanguinated. But, there is no other chatter, no normal banter, no tossing around ideas. Only silence, and you feel as though you’re falling. Once you stand, your knees wobble and your hands shoot out to grab JJ’s shoulders. Her presence itself is an ocean of calm as she works to steady you.

“[Y/N] ... maybe you should stay with Garcia on this one? I’m sure she could use the company.” Although not forceful, JJ’s words are more of a command than anything, but you make the executive decision to dismiss them with a shake of your head. As you walk up the stairs leading to the jet, your stomach churns with the intensity of a thousand tigers.

The absolute quietude on the plane is staggering, and until Garcia’s digitalized face appears on the screen, no one dares to say a word. She briefs everyone that another body has been discovered, and Hotch moves directly onto assignments. “[Y/N] and Morgan, go to the ME and see if the blood results have come back, yet. Blake and Dave, head to the newest crime scene. JJ and I will start working with the local PD.”

As you stare out at the clouds, you wish so desperately to be one of them. Oh, to be a big ball of water and ice crystals and not have a care in the world. The sun reflects off of the white, and when you turn away from the window, you can just barely see Morgan’s form sitting in the leather seat across from you. A pensive frown is present on his lips, his eyes tracing your body, looking for something to tip him off as to what you’re feeling.

Eventually, he finds that he can’t pick you apart. It seems as though each layer he tears through, another is waiting to conceal the truth. “Alright, kid,” he starts, a light air of humor in his voice, “I’ll bite. What’re you thinkin’ about so hard over here?” To be completely honest, you’re positive that he already knows the answer.

“Spence.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

Morgan crosses his arms in front of his chest. It’s a tic; he does it when he’s upset. You watch him as he racks his brain for something to change the subject to, but the sigh he omits is a signal that he’s going to try to talk to you about him. Alarm bells shriek in your head, and the sound is deafening. You force yourself to resist the urge to cover your ears, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything.

“So, kid. Even though you’re pretty good at hiding it, you need to tell me what you’re really thinking, okay? I know you saw Reid, but that’s not what I wanna know about. Something else is buggin’ you—I can tell.” He’s beating you up with each word. A punch to the gut, a kick to the face, an elbow to the side—it’s relentless. He knows something is wrong, but you can’t tell him that you’ve been in love Spencer since the third month working at the BAU. It’ll ruin you—not your reputation or your future—it’ll ruin you. Your mind, your body, your heart. Even though you ache to tell just one person, your mouth won’t let you. But, your heart seems to win the fight.

“Derek, I—,” you pause, your voice giving out, “I’m in love with him. I’ve been in love with him. And now, I don’t know what to do.” Your colleague searches for words, but he can’t bring himself to say anything. He merely stares, his mouth a thin line. Discomfort settles in the space between the two of you, its thickness is probably felt by the rest of the team on the plane. You catch JJ’s glances at the both of you, but they go unacknowledged.

────

Spencer goes through the third stage of grief alone. Bargaining. The stage where he’s in grave need to talk to someone, he is only himself. His hands shake as he pours a cup of coffee, attempting to use the caffeine to stay awake. As the sun rises, a thought in the back of his mind sounds. It tells him that he’s been wearing the same clothes for the past four days. His sweat, blood, and tears have collected on the fabric, and even still, he doesn’t care.

The only thing he’s aware of is the fact that if he wouldn’t have tried to meet Maeve, she would still be alive. He curses Blake and his innate curiosity, and he curses the fact that his first words to her were, “I don’t love you. Sorry.” He curses the feeling of your jacket over his shoulders and the immense okayness that it brought to him, even while staring at Maeve’s body splayed in front of him.

Looking around at each book on the floor of his apartment, they somehow remind him of her. Some made him want to remember her happily, others made him want to vomit up his heart and cut it into a thousand pieces. If he had only said the right thing, maybe she would still be alive. Maybe they would’ve held each other tight and moved on. Maybe they would’ve gone out for three or four years, and then maybe she would’ve gotten pregnant. Maybe there would’ve been a miniature version of him with Maeve’s smile and his eyes. Maybe he would’ve been happy.

Spencer spits up bile into his kitchen sink. Happy? He’s not even sure he knows the meaning of the word anymore. Grabbing the handle of his coffee pot, he pours and pours until the scalding hot liquid burns through his mismatched socks. Wordlessly, tears brim in his eyes. Reaching down, he plucks off the soaked fabric and merely stands at the counter, staring down into the seemingly endless mug.

His phone chirps and effectively pulls him from his trance. Although there’s plenty of time to walk over and answer it, Spencer just reads Morgan’s caller ID and lets it ring. It goes to voicemail and immediately Morgan’s words fill the empty air.

“Hey, Reid, it's Derek. Listen, I got a work question for you. The unsub's exsanguinating victims and removing their eyelids antemortem. Does that mean anything to you? Hit me back.”

Ideas are weaving in and out of the genius’ head. Trudging over to his couch, he presses the call button and waits for Morgan to pick up. It takes less than two rings before the line clicks and he’s in the presence of someone else for a change. Spencer sits in silence, not speaking until spoken to. He feels like a kid, but truthfully, he doesn’t have enough energy to say more than he needs to.

“Hey kid, you’ve got me and [Y/N].”

“Hi, Spencer.”

The sound of your voice is a drive taken at the dead of night where all you can hear is nature. It’s a thousand waves of calm. Instead of giving you both an answer, Spencer revels in the small greeting. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve fallen in love with you first.

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first. He debates on slamming the phone back into the receiver, but decides against it. “Have the cornea or pupils been harmed in any way?” Morgan says no. “If he's taking care not to damage the eyes, then line of sight is probably what's important to him.”

“So this guy wants them to see what he’s doing.” Morgan pauses and the whole line goes quiet. Spencer yearns to hear your voice just once more before he hangs up. And, by the grace of a seemingly wrathful God, he does. But, it’s not exactly a question he’s prepared to answer.

“Hey, Spencer ...” You trail off. It appears as though you’re thinking through your next words, but you settle on a simple inquiry. “How are you?”

“I gotta go,” Spencer replies.

The line goes dead.

────

The case ends up being solved with the help of your Boy Wonder. However, as you board the plane alongside him, it’s obvious that he doesn’t feel very wondrous. Plopping down into the seat across from him—similar to what Derek had done—you shoot him a tender grin. JJ’s shoulder rests above your head, and Morgan stands, taking up the whole aisle.

“So,” JJ begins, “I counted—what—five baskets?”

“Seven, but I think Ms. Cavanaugh next door may have taken a couple.” Her laughter mixes with yours in a melody that brightens the atmosphere in the jet. Morgan snickers in the background, but all Spencer is focused on is your smile. A pang of warmth spreads through him for the first time in a long time, even though a frown is turning his lips down. JJ and Morgan eventually migrate to their respective spots—JJ on the couch ans Morgan with his head against the wall and his earbuds plugged into his ears.

You pick up on the scowl on his features and pat the table to attract his attention. He meets your gentle gaze with hesitant eyes. “Why the long face, Doc?” It’s supposed to be a joke, but he can’t even force out a laugh. Spencer succumbs to the monster that guilt presents itself as, cupping his cheeks and pulling down on his face. He tries to rid himself of the grime, the dirt, he feels on his body, but he doesn’t think it’ll ever go away.

“I dunno,” he slurs through exhaustion, “I was just thinking about how I acted when you came over, and I-I guess ... I just wanted to apolog—.”

“Spencer.” The severity in your tone shakes him to the core. His eyes widen as his mouth comes to a close. “Don’t apologize to me. You’re grieving, it’s only natural that you’d be angry. It was forgotten after it happened, okay? I promise you—we’re good.” There’s something you want to add, and Spencer can practically feel the words itching to come out. “And, Spence? If you need anything—anything at all—please, just ask. Please.”

His mind wanders back to his messy apartment, and he ponders the thought of asking you to help him clean. His mouth moves on autopilot, speaking before he even knew what to say. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I could use some help with something.”

“Of course. Name it, Spencer.”

When the wheels hit the ground, you and Spencer sit and wait for everyone else to clear out of the jet. Morgan and JJ squeeze his shoulder on the way out, and Blake shoots him a motherly smile. The sorrow in her eyes is blatant, but it travels to the back of your mind as soon as she passes. Standing up, you gesture in front of you, allowing Spencer an exit before you head down the stairs. He offers you a ghost of a grin, and it makes your heart bound in your chest. You didn’t remember signing up to run a marathon after this case.

The short stroll to Spencer’s Volvo in spent in a surprisingly comfortable silence. It is full of shy glances and small smiles, and you can practically feel yourself falling for him all over again. Climbing into his car, you turn on the radio to a classical station. Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat Major plays at a low volume, causing you to close your eyes and lean back against the headrest. The old car hums to life, igniting a sense of nostalgia deep in your soul. The drive to his apartment passes by in what feels like seconds, and he takes the keys and moves to open your door.

Giggling, you step out of his antique. The gravel crunches against the bottoms of your boots as you walk next to him up to his door. “So, this is the elusive Dr. Spencer Reid’s humble abode?” There’s a lighthearted teasing in your voice, “It’s cute. I like it. What d’you need me to do?” He cocks an eyebrow, looking around at the books scattered across his floor and he wonders how someone could find beauty in this. And then, he realizes that he’s standing next to you—Penelope Garcia’s closest confidant—and another question replaces it. Was there anything you couldn’t find beauty in?

“Well .... we should probably start with the books, and then, we can move on to the Thai food.” A grimace appears on his face and you laugh at the way it scrunches, “And, after that, we can talk.” The statement is more of a question, but it still makes you unbelievably jittery.

With a nod, you bend down to pick up story after story, every so often becoming enchanted by the bindings that surrounded the little worlds. Spencer crouches and pulls out a vinyl, placing it on the record player and lowering the needle. Once more, Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat Major fills the air, the static of the record scratching every once in a while. “I noticed that you liked it in the car,” he murmurs, “I’m more of a Waltz in A Minor type of guy, but Nocturne in E Flat Major Op. 9 No. 2 is always a good pick.”

“I just love Chopin, to be honest,” you say, picking up the copy of War and Peace sitting at the threshold of his door, “his pieces are all good, really. They’re all great creating pieces, you know? Like, I could just sit, listen to them, and make up stories in my head for days.”

You’re making up one right now. It’s a sunny day, as opposed to the inky blackness outside his apartment window, and you and Spencer are walking down an ambiguous dirt path. Woods surround you as well as sounds of nature, birds sing and branches snap under your feet. There is no air of danger, and all you can feel is the warm pressure of Spencer’s hand in yours. A cool breeze kisses your cheeks, forcing you to stop and take it in. Spencer comes to a halt, his gaze shifting to you. Smiling, you both move towards each other like plants to the sun. Captivation, charm, magnetism. It’s inevitable, like the meteor that destroyed the first inhabitants of earth so long ago. You move closer and closer to one another; it feels as though you’re floating, you’re gravitating towards him—.

“You know, if you’re that fascinated by East of Eden, you could borrow it,” Spencer’s weak teasing breaks you from your reverie, and you realize you’ve been staring at the front cover for over five minutes.

“Ah, uh, no thanks. Reading Of Mice and Men in high school was enough John Steinbeck for me. Personally, I think he drones on and on about things for too long,” you grin while shelving the book. He hums an acknowledgement and picks up a paper container full of week old pad thai, the smell forcing his head in the other direction.

Soon enough, there are only four, thick novels left, and you two are standing side by side at the bookshelf. You gawk at the number of collections and volumes that reside on the freshly dusted wooden panels, eyes wide. Spencer has one hard cover in his hands. It’s in pristine condition, the white of the jacket glaring at you with a vindictiveness that only the dead can muster. Maeve’s memory is held in between his palms, and it becomes hard to watch him struggle with the thought of having to put it away.

“Spencer ...” Your voice is feathery as it rides on the heavy air, “Let go.”

The words are broken as they fall from his mouth. Tears drip gently onto the glossy cover, and it seems as though The Narritive of John Smith is crying along with him. “I can’t.” A sharp pain pierces your entire being. Seeing him so vulnerable, so fractured, is agonizing. He cries over the story, repeating the tale of his whirlwind romance over and over again in his head. Reaching out, you urge his hands towards the only remaining space on the shelf. The book slips in effortlessly, and Spencer collapses to his knees in front of it. His hands are limp by his sides and his head hangs low between his rounded shoulders.

You lower yourself to meet his figure on the ground. He doesn’t move, his spirit completely dulled. As you ghost your hands over his back, he leans into your touch. After depriving himself of physical contact for so long, he wallows in the feeling of your fingers rubbing soft patterns into his skin. Spencer allows himself to sink into your embrace, inhaling the sweet combination of vanilla and jasmine.

For some time, Spencer cries into your chest. He apologizes through his sobs for the darkening spot on your work shirt, but you quiet him each time with a shake of your head. The atmosphere in his apartment lightens to the point of comfort as you do nothing but hold him. It’s poetic, really—something that you’d listen to a Chopin piece to.

“In a different lifetime,” Spencer’s hoarse whisper is barely audible over the quiet buzz of his air conditioning, “I would’ve fallen in love with you first.”

You contemplate his statement, mulling it over in your mind with a giddy optimism not quite suitable for the situation. He can tell you’re thinking over his words, but he doesn’t comment on the length of time you spend with them. A significant amount of time passes before you offer him a small nod that he feels when your chin collides with the top of his head. Smoothing a hand down his curls that are already slicked with grease, you open your mouth to speak.

“It’s okay, Spencer,” you murmur, hugging him closer, “I’ll be waiting. Always.”

#mine #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

401 notes · View notes

sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

That Be Some Good Buttercream

Summary- Steve and Bucky get your help in replicating a howling commando days battle using Christmas baking fun. But... Does anything ever quite work out the way it should? Set in the same characters I used in Night In, Looking Pretty Fly and Popping Pez and Mismatched Socks. Written for @official-and-unstable-satan 300 Follower Celebration Challenge. She still has many prompts, check it out. Prompts in italiacs. No warnings, all fluffy.

Word Count- 1.6k

A/N- so proud of your accomplishments babes, you are an amazing writer and I love getting lost in your stories and listening to your ideas. I know your just gonna keep going up from here. Love you always babygirl 💚😈💚😈💚😈💚

“Bucky, they came around from the south end”

“No they did not. I remember Steve, I was there.”

“Yea, and so was I”

You and Sam had been listening to the two super soldiers carry on at the oversized table in the compounds kitchen dining area for a good hour before you readjusted the volume on the tv once more. Sam, half laying over half the couch remained scrolling on his phone, remarking.

“Aint gonna do you no good, they just get louder.”

You sigh and hit the off button, he was right. Might as well go see what these two were up to anyways. Pushing yourself off the couch, Sam promptly stretched his legs out onto where you were sitting, making himself comfterable. “See you on the other side Kid!” He joked, settling into watching youtube.

Wandering in, you saw the two men bent over large map, Steve with pencil in hand drawing arrows to discern where they started from, stretching it across what looked like a military base. Bucky shook his head.

“No no no, Punk, I wasnt up there, I was down here”

“Bucky, I had you up on the highest point, it just looks weird on paper.”

“You know what, this is pointless.” You could see Bucky getting aggitated with there project, pushing himself away from the table. “We need like... a 3D model to get this right.”

Steve to straightened up, his arms folding as he looked down at the heavily marked paper. “Well... Tony does have some...” You interrupt in this time, moving over to the table and taking a peek at what they were doing.

“You know, I have an idea of how to make you two a 3D model.” Both the men quirked brows, curious as to what you had in mind. "Givingerbread reanatcment.”

You expected a rebuttal, a laugh, anything, since you were joking. But the two of them actually looked thoughtful, glancing at each other. “It would be easier then trying to draw it out” Steve mentioned. “And easier then trying to get Tony to set up the AI model for us.”

“Plus we get some fucking cookies... Im in.” Bucky grinned, obviously pleased in the options of snacks. What started as a joke from you became a very serious matter as the two Soldiers dragged you into the kitchen. The two of them looking at you expectedly.

“I was just joking guys, Im not making you a hydra replica gingerbread base. You know how much shit that would take.” At this point you backtracking a bit, wishing the words hadnt fallen out of your mouth so damn easily cause you thought is was funny.

“Nonsense, you wont be doing all of it. Were going to help.” Steves already moving to wash his hands as Bucky is digging through a drawer and slipping on a god damn “Kiss the Cook” apron, he found in a drawer, ties it swiftly around his back and rolls up his sleeves.

“You know you always wanted to boss us around Doll.” Bucky smirks, wiggling brows in a teasing manner. “You finally get your chance.”

You look between the two men, the two of them nodding in encouragement, Steve composed as ever, waiting for You to explain how to start, and Bucky well he was opening drawers, pulling out random stuff that he thought you might use. He held up a spatula with a smirk, slapping the utinsel against his palm. “How about we get this train moving kids.”

Relenting, you turn to your phone for a recipe. “Okay fine, since you all insist. We need flour, sugar, eggs, ginger, cinnamon....” While your listing, both men are scrambling to find everything, and piling it on the counter, yourself you bring out some bowls, cookie cutters, lets face it. You needed the actual men to decorate like howling commandos. Turning on the oven to get it preheated, you search for decorations. “Steve, store run? We gotta make this accurate you know, and Buckys all dressed up for a day baking. Hate to send him." You just kinda motion lver Buckys getup, the kiss the cook stretched over his chest, the apron a size to small for him really.

Your already grabbing paper and jotting down a detailed list of food coloring, frosting, candies and such. Steve snatched the list when you held it out, he had a general idea of it all and nodded. "Dont hesitate to put Bucky to work. He just pretends to be all intimidating."

You roll your eyes and back in the kitchen theres a "Steve your a dick" retort from Bucky whos looking over the mess of ingredients piled on the counter. Steve, seemingly joyful as he grabbed keys and left, you suspect you might not see him at least another hour or two. No worries, you had the other super soldier on hand.

Heading back in you hand Bucky a bowl and eggs. "Start cracking, separating yolk from white, and no shells." You cant help but from watching him, looking a bit like a lost child, before he he starts to crack eggs and inspect for shells. You watch from the corner of your eye as you put together the dry ingredients, and start mesuring out the molasses, talking him through the rest of the buttercream frosting ingredients.

Dipping your finger in his finished product, you lick the tip of your finger, smirking at his widened eyes. Yea Steve, hes very intimidating. You maybe took a bit to much pleasure in teasing Bucky on occasion. "Mmmhh my very favorite part.... "

He cleared his throat and looked away, it might be a bit mean, but he would give it back later, this was a dance the two of you played. "Okay, what now?" He said a bit gruff and you grab your rolling pin, holding it to him.

Eyeing it a moment, his brow arched. "Ya want me to roll the dough?"

"Yea Buck, nice and thin, since you two want to make all these outer buildings as well." Pointing to Steve's sketching, And you reached in the dough and piled it on the counter on front of Bucky. "And Steve said to put you to work."

"I notice you gave Steve the easy job." He muttered as he started to flatten the dough.

"I knew you were more capable."

Bucky couldn't hide the grin at the compliment, and afterwards you both measured, cut and got the cookie sheets in the oven. Stealing part of the couch back from Sam and watching trash tv till the oven beeped. Bucky vaulted over the couch, head back into the kitchen and pulled them out of the oven.

"Are they firm?" You ask, peeking at them, a light brush of your fingers against them. The room smelled like bake gingerbread and smooth sugar. Tempting delectables to say the least.

"Yup, now what?"

"Cool and mantle your buildings." You say as You slide them off onto wire racks. "Go get the frosting, and I will show you." Already he was rummaging in the fridge to retrieve it. Peeling off the plastic cling, you pick up one of the cooler pieces and edged it with icing. Folding two pieces together. "Easy as that. You try."

Bucky took it so seriously, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he piped that icing. His brows furrowed together in a dip right at the center. You bite back a grin and get a large dollop of icing on your finger and flick it at the man. Landing right in his face. He drops his cookie in surprise and blinks though the icing. "Fucken hell, Y/N! Whats that for?" Wiping it off, he flicks it back at you and you squeal getting hit.

That's war!

"Oh its on Barnes" smirking as you grab a cookie and crumble it, shooting it at him. Cookies fly, icing it flung, flour, and sugar is used to blind one another, you two ducked around the table, screaming and yelling insults playfully.

Bucky tried using the hose at the kitchen sink to spray you, in which you ducked and rolled right into him, the two of you collapsing in a heap on the floor among all your hard work, broken and scattered. Steve stood in the doorway, arms laden with two paper bags, his jaw hanging open at the mess. Bucky pokes you to get your attention and the two of you sit up, covered. Head to toe in frosting, flour and cookies.

"I was just gone an hour..."

"Its a long time to be left unsupervised." You shrug as you smear some frosting off your shirt and lick it off your finger, Bucky helped himself to your shirt frosting to since he had thrown half the bowl on you.

"Oh damn, thats good!" He grins.

"What about this is good?! You mean your gingerbread murder scene?!" Steve toed a dead gingerbread man with the tip of his shoe.

Bucky looked around and glared at his friend. "IT WAS HISTORICALLY ACCURATE" His voice raided to defend the mess and you promptly stuff a cookie in his mouth to shut him up.

"Come on Steve. Did the Hydra base not look like this after you two and the howling commandos were done?" You throw a cookie at him which bounced off his chest. "Eat a cookie, you feel better" next to you Bucky continued eating broken gingerbread men, grinning at his friend and nodding.

"Best damn cookies besides your mama's!" Bucky added between mouthfuls

"I just... Pick this up you two before tony throws a fit." Turning with the bags of candy he bought, passing Sam, he ditched them on the man still scrolling youtube

"You couldn't watch them for two seconds Sam?"

"And break up that little love fest? Puh-lease" Sam grinned at Steve and dug into the paper bags looking through the snacks, pulling out twizzlers.

"SCORE!"

@what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @kitkatd7 @stuckonjbbarnes @sebbbystaaan @kimisama1989 @simsadventures @that-damn-girl @imanuglywombat @jtargaryen18 @stardancerluv @princess-evans-addict

#satanoutofcontext #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #mcufam #fluffy #writing challenge #sweater writes #amber writes

136 notes · View notes

junetuesday · 5 years

Text

sweetener - [three]

The One At The Library

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader - uni AU

Word Count: 5170 ish

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, fluff, caffeine

A/N: sorry for the delay on this i am *jean ralphio voice* The Worst. I thiiiink this chapter should make up for it tho heheheh lemme know what you think!

Updates Fridays at 11pm BST

Tonight was one of those nights where it just wasn't your night. You stood in the SU toilets waiting for Liv, amid girls taking selfies in the mirrors and attempting to stick false eyelashes back on each other though they could hardly see. Another night, you might have been one of them, gleefully exclaiming "thanks, it's Missguided!" in response to compliments on your dress. Not tonight though.

There wasn't anything wrong per se - Madison was away visiting her boyfriend so it was just you and Liv with some of her friends from her course. They were nice, of course, and you liked them, but they weren't your friends so you didn't feel quite as at ease as you might have. Your pre-night out disco-nap had run on a bit longer than you had intended so you didn't have a lot of time to get ready, plus you thought you had alcohol in when you didn't, so all you had was a glass of warm, somewhat vinegary white wine while you got ready. You managed to pilfer another glass off someone at predrinks, and you'd bought a double when you arrived at the union, but all in all you were relatively sober compared to everyone else, and you weren't feeling particularly confident in your appearance, and honestly, you were bored.

You tapped through Instagram stories as you waited for Liv, neither drunken selfies nor dog photos nor influencers unboxing PR packages holding your attention for long. Your thumb hit the right hand side of the screen almost as soon as each new image came up, switching to the next one well before the full 15 seconds was up. Until this one.

A few nights prior, you, Liv, and Mads had gone on a social media binge after Liv had discovered that you and Harrison followed each other on Instagram and you hadn't told her (?!) - which had lead you to Tom's account. Madison had pressed follow for you in the end, and within ten minutes he'd followed you back. You still hadn't had the confidence to interact with him in any way, or text him for that matter, but it was a start. He'd posted a couple of stories since then, and to say you were glad that Instagram didn't show how many times someone has viewed your story would be an understatement. If it did...yikes. They weren't even all that interesting, but seeing little snippets of his life was nice, it almost made you feel like you knew him a little more. You didn't, of course, all you actually knew was that he went to the gym after work yesterday (from the picture of a protein shake with an 8:49pm timestamp with the caption "post-work gym sesh ☑") and that he'd been working on an essay this afternoon (from the screenshot of a Spotify playlist called Chill Lofi Study Beats with the caption "essay soundtrack 👌" and a location tag that placed him in the library).

And according to this post, he was still there - his laptop open with a notepad next to it, a couple of books and pens scattered across the desk, posted five minutes ago. You tapped through to the next picture, and all you could think was 'oh no'. This one was a selfie, his grumpy expression half covered by his fingers and his chin resting on his palm. His hair was a fluffy mess atop his head, white earphones in both ears and the collar of a black pullover hoodie just visible in the bottom of the frame. You didn't even realise you'd been looking at it that long until the screen skipped to the next story, and you didn't think you'd ever tapped the left side of your screen so fast. Pressing and holding on the screen to stop it timing out, you managed to actually read the caption this time - "send help and coffee 😧" - and maybe those three drinks had had more of an effect on you than you thought, because you were actually kind of considering replying, your thumb swiping up and down on the screen to bring up and hide the 'reply to story' options over and over. No, that's a stupid idea -- what would you even say?

Looking up as though one of the inhabitants of the girl's bathroom would have the answer, you spotted Liv coming out of a cubicle. She had definitely caught up with her friends at predrinks more than you had, and was bopping along to the music echoing in from the adjacent dancefloor as she washed her hands. She'd be badgering you to go get another drink, you knew, or go and dance, or something of that nature that didn't involve you sitting down and pondering potential social media interactions. You looked from her to your phone and back again, before deciding to throw caution to the wind and just say fuck it.

Vanilla latte sound good?

Closing the app and locking your phone as soon as you hit reply, you shoved your phone into your bag, as though if you didn't look at it then it wouldn't matter if Tom replied or not. Oh God, what if he doesn't reply? -- what if he does reply? What if--

"Let's get SHOTS!"

With a groan and a playful roll of your eyes you let Liv pull you back out to the bar, rejoining her friends. You ordered a shot of apple Sourz - which, yes, is a cop out shot, but you didn't particularly care to go for the sambuca shots that were lining up on the counter at Liv's request. Even if you weren't having one, though, it still made for a fun Instagram story - because even if you're not having fun it's important to make sure it looks like you are online, right? That was the only reason you took your phone back out of your bag, no other reason. You didn't even look at your notifications, not even a glance at that little red (1) in the top right hand corner, and you definitely didn't open it immediately after posting your story. No, you waited at least ten seconds while everyone took their shots, then you opened it.

That would be ideal🙏🏻

Hm. Liv tugged on your wrist again, pulling you towards a clubroom. Reluctantly, you followed, your group huddled loosely in a circle on the dancefloor. You moved your body to the beat, but your mind was less on the music and more on your phone, clutched tightly in your hand.

You knew he meant coffee, you knew it was a joke, but...Tom had been calling you Vanilla Latte until recently... But no. That's stupid, it's gone midnight and he's still studying, he definitely was just talking about coffee, he didn't mean, well, you. But still...

You glanced down at your phone, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible (though no one was watching, and if they were they wouldn't care, like, at all), and let out an involuntary squeak at the notification on the screen.

tomholland1996 replied to your story:

or a couple of those haha 😂

Not to read too much into things but... double message? You bit the corner of your lip to try and stop yourself from smiling as you unlocked your phone and tapped out a reply.

I bet haha

Your thumb hovered over the 'send' button, hesitating. What a shit reply - but what else do you say?

Tom is typing...

Oh shit. You deleted your message, but as soon as you did so he stopped typing too. Ugh. You waited a moment, and sure enough:

Tom is typing...

Anyway enjoy your night x

You almost scoffed, looking up and taking stock of your surroundings, that weird out of place feeling you get when you're the only sober(ish) one in a room of drunk people creeping over you. The music was too loud and too bassy, the lights were too flashy, everyone was bumping into you, plus your feet hurt and you were tired and you felt about fifty years older than your nineteen years.

🤷 su's actually shit tonight tbf

You tried to ignore the fact that 'seen' popped up under your message instantly.

Really? Sure its better than the library

Hm. Another elbow collided with your spine, and you decided then you were done with tonight.

Debatable

You know when youre just not feelin it?

You were barely even pretending to move to the music now, just nodding your head as your attention remained on your phone. It seemed to be getting more and more crowded anyway, so you hardly had any room to move even if you wanted to.

Fair

Think i'd just rather be doing anything other than writing this essay

Idk if id go so far as to say id rather be writing an essay but it'd defo rather be in bed 😴👵

Oh yeah thatd be my preferred choice too but i guess i'll just have to make do with coffee instead of sleep

Why dont you just go home tho?

That was a good point, you could go home. You didn't think Liv would mind, she was having fun and her friends lived close enough that sharing a cab home with them wouldn't be an issue. The only problem was, you didn't really want to go home - what you wanted to do was go and hang out with Tom. Not while he was working, or for five minutes when you bumped into him in the kitchen, but just...because. You nibbled at your bottom lip as you considered your options, flashing a smile-and-nod at Liv when she looked over at you and you lipread her shouting 'you okay?' at you. The library was just across the car park in the center of the campus, you could just pop in and say hello... and the coffee from the Lavazza branded machine downstairs in the SU was better than the weird generic one in the library.

I actually might you know

You typed out the next message really fast, taking a deep breath in before pressing send.

Could bring you a coffee on my way past?

Eyes trained on the screen, you held your breath as Tom is typing... popped up, disappeared, reappeared, then disappeared again.

You would be saving my life

Aaaand exhale.

Only seems fair

You'd almost forgotten where you were, if it weren't for the people jostling you around and the balls of your feet screaming in pain from your heels.

Haha yeah i think you probably owe me a latte or 7

Your heart was beating in your chest, and this was definitely how you saw your night going when you gulped down that glass of tepid chardonnay, but you couldn't say you were mad about it.

Exactly

So a latte then yeah?

Wait youre actually gonna ditch a night out and bring me a coffee?

Yep, that's exactly what you're doing.

Apparently so

Then yes a latte pls

Coming right up (that's what baristas say right?)

God how fucking cringe --

I think so idk im not a very good one

Youre ok

cheers

Weaving your way away from the group, you mimed taking a drink at Liv when she grabbed your arm as you passed her. You weren't really lying, you were going to get a drink, it was just going to be a caffeinated one instead of an alcoholic one. You couldn't be bothered explaining that to her right now, though, and she was already turning back to her friends and taking one of their faces in her hands to yell lyrics at them, so you didn't feel too bad about leaving her.

Your feet hurt a little less (only a little though) as you made your way down the stairs, and you only got a few weird looks as you got two lattes from the coffee machine. You got rather more weird looks, however, when you walked into the library. There was hardly anyone there at this time, just a handful of zombie-like students dotted around and a couple of security staff at the door keeping an eye on things, but every single one of them looked at you at least once as you meandered over to where Tom had told you he'd be. You couldn't really blame them though, it was gone midnight and there you were, clip-clopping through the university library in absurd heels and a dress that showed rather more of your skin than you would normally have exposed in that setting. You felt a little self-conscious, but with a cup of coffee in each hand you couldn't pull it down, so you had to make do with taking short, shuffling steps to try and minimise how far up your thighs the fabric would ride as you walked.

Just as he'd said, you found Tom at a table in the group study area. Books, balled up sheets of paper, pens and empty drinks cans littered the desk, looking rather more disorderly than his Instagram story had depicted. He hadn't seen you yet, and he looked to be deep in thought. Hunched over his laptop, the glow of the screen reflected in his glasses, his fingers were spread out across the keyboard as though he was about to start typing. In the time it took you to walk over, however, he didn't press a single key, and when you set one of the cups down beside him he jumped slightly, taking a sharp breath in like you'd startled him. Less 'deep in thought' and more 'in a deep trance', perhaps.

Tom groaned when you giggled, pulling his earphones from his ears and blinking rapidly to try and reawaken his eyes.

"You're a lifesaver, thank you."

He gave you a small smile as he reached for his coffee, his face tired but eyes still bright as he looked up at you. You could feel his gaze scanning over your body, making you feel a different kind of self-conscious - the kind that made you smooth out your dress to sit nicely across your thighs now that you had a free hand, rather than tugging it down as far as it would go like you wanted to when you walked in.

"No worries."

Hovering awkwardly beside the desk, it only then occurred to you that Tom probably wanted you to leave so he could get on with his essay and get out of the library as quickly as possible. He seemed to sense this train of thought from you, because he hummed something incoherent through a mouthful of coffee and scrambled to move some of his crap aside so there was space for you to sit at the table.

"Sorry--"

"Oh, um-"

You did a sort of half-laugh, stepping back out of the way to let him push papers and books aside. There were about six chairs dotted around the table, but as he'd cleared a space at the one closest to him, just around the corner of the square table, you picked that one.

"How's it going?" You took a sip of your own coffee, nodding towards the laptop between you. "-or should I not ask?"

"Ugh, don't ask." Tom groaned, leaning back and bringing his leg up so his foot rested on his chair, bent knee exposed by the rips in his faded black jeans. "S'not even due 'til next week but I thought I'd just get it done and out of the way 'cause I've got work and shit to do but..."

He trailed off, shrugging.

"Not happening?"

"Not happening."

You hummed, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You knew the feeling, no stranger to complete lack of motivation yourself. Looking around at the books scattered across the table, you realised you didn't actually know what Tom studied, but it seemed like he didn't really want to talk about uni work, so instead of asking about his degree, you said:

"I didn't know you wore glasses."

Nice nonsequiteur, good one.

"Hm? Oh, yeah," Tom took the frames off and set them down on his laptop keyboard, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes with his knuckles. "Just for computer stuff, you know?"

"Oh, cool." You looked down at your cup as you brought it up to your lips. "I like them. On - on you."

Your eyes flicked over to him as you took a sip, darting back to your cup before he could catch your eye.

"Thanks."

You just smiled, hoping the general feeling of '!!!!!!!' in your head wasn't evident on your face.

"So, SU not living up to your expectations tonight?"

Shaking your head, you set your cup down before launching into an explanation of everything that had contributed to your less-than-satisfactory night. You didn't mean to go off on one, but Tom was laughing at how exasperated you were getting about tiny inconveniences, and before you knew it, you'd been rambling for God knows how long, which lead to Tom ranting about all the annoying things he'd witnessed people doing in the library that afternoon, and before long an hour had passed and the conversation had turned, as it often does with millenials, to memes.

"Wait you haven't seen that one? It's fucking hilarious, I've got it saved on my phone so I can look at it, like, daily."

You opened your bag to take out your phone, your smile freezing on your lips as a thought crossed your mind. Unzipping the inside pocket, your fingers skipped over the contents one by one - lipgloss, lash glue, gum, tampon - until your suspicions were confirmed.

"Oh fuck."

Tom hummed a question mark in response, eyebrows raised at your sudden shift in temperament.

"I haven't got my house keys," you frowned, trying to remember the last time you saw them.

"Shit - d'you reckon you dropped them in the union?"

"Nah," You shook your head as it came back to you - you were in a rush to shove your stuff into your bag before leaving for predrinks, and you distinctly remembered thinking 'I need to grab my keys from my backpack', but then Liv asked to borrow a lipstick and you immediately forgot about your keys.

"I know where they are, they're at home. It's cool I'll just text Liv and see if she's still out or what, maybe get a cab home with her."

After tapping out a quick text to Liv, you looked back to Tom, setting your phone facedown on the table. He was looking at you questioningly, glancing between you and your phone. You blinked at him uselessly, mind drawing a blank when you attempted to remember why exactly you opened your bag in the first place.

"Uh, you were gonna show me..." he trailed off, gesturing to your phone.

Uhhh duhhhhhhhh. Jesus girl, get it together.

Re-engaging your brain, you pulled up the screenshot, hoping he couldn't feel the heat radiating off your cheeks or notice the way your fingers were trembling ever so slightly as they gripped your phone. Either he didn't or he declined to comment on it, showing you a vine compilation video on his laptop instead. You ended up burrowing deeper and deeper into a meme-rabbit-hole, shifting closer to the edge of your seat with each embarrassingly loud laugh, and for a little while you forgot about your key dilemma.

"I think-" you began, interrupted by your fifth yawn in as many minutes. "I think I need to go to bed."

"Same - hey did Liv text you back?"

"Shit. Uhh-"

You checked your notifications, and sure enough there was one from Liv, received twenty-five minutes ago.

No lmao debrief tomo xxxxxx

You didn't realise Tom was reading over your shoulder until you heard a soft 'ah' in your ear. Your eyes scanned the rest of the screen in a panic, but thankfully found no incriminating evidence of your growing interest in the boy beside you, or of Liv's in his best friend. Making a slightly strangled 'hmm' sound, you tapped the phone icon at the top of the screen.

"I'll call her and see what-"

You'd barely brought the phone to your ear before a cool voice welcomed you to O2 voice mail. You knew it all too well - Liv was notorious for letting her battery die, preferring to use that last 2% on Snapchat than saving it in case one of her housemates gets locked out.

"Bollocks."

"She alright?" Tom leaned back in his seat, concern ghosting over his tired features.

"Yeah yeah, she was with a load of her friends so they've probably gone back to one of theirs to smoke or something. She'll be fine. I'm kinda fucked, though."

A beat of silence passed while you tried to come up with a solution that didn't involve you sleeping in the library, but with Madison miles away and Liv MIA, you were coming up blank.

"You can stay at mine?"

Sorry, what? You blinked at Tom, certain you had misheard him.

"If-if you want. I could sleep on the sofa or something and you could have my room."

Yep, no, that's what he said.

"Oh, I-"

"Just, um, you know, if you can't go home-"

"Would, uh, is that okay?"

"Yeah," He nodded, a soft smile in his voice. " 'course."

You bit down gently on your bottom lip, your own smile threatening to spread across your face.

"Thanks."

Your voice came out as barely more than a whisper, a squeak really. He was still so close, your shoulders almost touching where you'd been looking down at your phone together. This felt much closer though, face to face, your eyes able to count the freckles smattered across his nose and cheeks, see the indent of a chickenpox scar near his right eyebrow, another one on the left side of his nose. You didn't dare let your vision travel any further south than the bridge of his nose, not sure of what you'd do if you looked down and saw that easy smile that he wore so well.

But then again, maybe you could just sneak a glance...

Tom cleared his throat, the sound making both of you jolt back ever so slightly into your seats.

"Um, should we-"

"Yeah, yeah-"

Silence settled over you as you gathered up Tom's stuff off the table, stopping to shove your coffee cups and all his other rubbish into a bin on the way out. By the time you got to Tom's car though, conversation had started to flow again, and he gave you free rein over the music, so the short drive passed with only mild awkwardness between you.

Tom's bedroom turned out to be behind the locked door you'd seen that first night at predrinks, the mystery room on the ground floor at the front of the house. Unsure of the social protocol in situations like this, you hovered by the door as Tom turned on the lamp on his bedside table, dumping his stuff on the floor by his desk. The lamp didn't provide too much light, most of the room still shrouded in darkness, so you focused your attention on the carpet by your feet, fibres frayed where they met the skirting board.

"Do you want Super Noodles?"

Your head jerked up, a laugh spluttering past your lips because what? But then, also, yes, yes you did want Super Noodles.

"Yeah, actually."

"D'you wanna put something on TV and I'll..." he trailed off, pointing in the general direction of the kitchen.

"Sure."

You perched on the end of Tom's bed while he fiddled with his TV and PS4 that sat atop a chest of drawers opposite you, bringing up Netflix and passing you the controller.

"D'you know how to..."

"Mmhmm."

"Cool."

You flicked the edges of the shoulder buttons with your fingers, the soft clicks the only sound beyond the hum of the TV as you looked up at Tom from the edge of his bed, nodding his head slowly as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He cleared his throat again, taking a jerky step away from you.

"Okay, uh, I'll just- yeah."

Letting out a deep breath once he'd left the room, you started to flick through the options on the screen. You eventually settled on Friends - everyone likes Friends, plus then it wasn't a whole movie or hour long episode you'd have to sit through if it got awkward. You hoped it wouldn't be awkward, things had been getting progressively less awkward between you, but this was different. You were in his room at two in the morning, sat on his bed in a rather revealing dress, more of your bare thigh in contact with the soft cotton of his sheets than you had expected when you left the house earlier that evening. That reminded you - were you going to sleep in your dress? It wasn't very comfortable so you'd really rather not, but were you going to ask him for something to wear? Were you bollocks. So, you'd resigned yourself to being uncomfortable and hoping that nothing popped out in the night when Tom returned from the kitchen, backing into the room with a bowl of noodles in each hand.

"Thanks," you gave him a shy smile as you took one of the bowls from him, the heat of the ceramic almost as hot as the flush that crept up the back of your neck when he smiled back.

"Do you want something else to wear?" Tom's eyes widened as soon as the words left his mouth, realising how they sounded. "Not that you don't look- it's just it doesn't look that comfortable, and-"

"Yes, please."

"Okay," he breathed when you cut him off, nodding. "Um..."

Setting his bowl on top of his chest of drawers, he rummaged through for something to give you. His figure was obscured by the light of the TV screen, the bright white of the Netflix logo blurring the edges of your vision. You had to blink a few times after he turned around before you could see properly again, as though you'd just looked directly into the sun.

Stop blinking so much, he's going to think you've got a twitch, or an eye infection or something.

Trying to keep your eyes open as long as possible (without looking shocked), you swapped your bowl for the t shirt and pair of blue checked pyjama bottoms he handed you.

"I'll just go, uh, get changed then."

Shutting Tom's door behind you, you darted upstairs to the bathroom. You had no idea if Harrison was in or not, but you would really rather not bump into him just then, knowing he'd be insufferable. After changing into Tom's clothes (definitely not noticing how they smelt innately comforting, fresh but still warm) you peeled off your false eyelashes, popping them into your handbag. That was about all you could do in terms of make up removal, so you just had to hope you had remembered to put on setting spray earlier and that you wouldn't wake up with panda eyes and a stained pillow case.

Tom had turned the light off and changed into a pair of joggers when you got back to his room, settled at the head of the bed atop the covers with just the glow of the TV lighting the room and reflecting off his glasses. Placing your bag and folded dress beside your heels on the floor by the door, you sat cross-legged beside him, taking the bowl he handed you with a quiet thanks. You munched your way through your noodles as the first episode played, sneaking glances at the boy beside you every now and then.

By the time the second episode started, two empty bowls were stacked on the bedside table, and you were getting sleepier and sleepier, pulling the covers up over your legs. You slipped further and further down the bed as the episode went on, your eyes growing heavier and heavier until you were almost asleep.

"I'm just gonna..." you sighed, rolling into your side and curling your legs up closer to your chest.

"I'll uh- I'll go."

The mattress dipped as Tom pushed himself up, moving to get up, but you shook your head, eyes still closed.

"Mmmno."

Tom froze, a nervous laugh stuttering from the back of his throat.

"What?"

Half-asleep, you looked up at him, sliding your hand across the mattress and under your cheek beneath the pillow.

"Stay."

You thought you heard him make a sound, but your eyes were already closing again, your mind too sleepy to comprehend anything beyond the fact that his body was warm beside yours and you didn't want him to leave. The whys and hows weren't too important just then.

The bed shifted a few more times as Tom reached for the remote to turn off the TV and set his glasses aside, letting out a low, deep breath as he lay down next to you. You were all but asleep, so you weren't sure if you imagined it, but you thought you felt his hand brush against yours as he mirrored your position, lying on his side with an arm curled up under his pillow.

Hm.

You stuck out your little finger to test, just to see - and sure enough, it bumped against his. Still half-asleep (or at least, that would be your excuse if he moved away), you lifted your finger up to lay it over his, feeling his digit flex as he hooked it around yours. That, you were pretty sure, you didn't imagine.

You really were tired, honestly so so close to being asleep, but now all you could hear was your breathing, and Tom's breathing, and the hammering of your heart in your chest, and it was all a bit much.

You opened one eye, and from the slither of light coming in around the curtains from the streetlamp outside you could just about make out one side of Tom's face - enough to know he was looking at you.

"Hi," he breathed.

"Hey."

Your eyes closed when he'd repositioned, you hadn't realised quite how close your faces were, only the width of your hands between you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you glanced between his eyes, fixed on yours, and his lips, slightly parted.

Is he getting closer??

You tried to regulate your breathing, but he was definitely getting closer, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as you swallowed harshly.

"S-sorry you didn't get to finish your essay."

Tom chuckled softly, and your noses were almost touching, and suddenly his hand was gone from beside yours under the pillow, a finger hooked under your chin instead.

"It's fine."

Nudging the side of your nose with his, he tilted your face up and away from the pillow, the quiet 'oh' dying on your lips as he captured them between his own.

Oh, indeed.

⋘TWO | FOUR⋙

taglist:

@starksparker @bi-writes @softspideys @thwippeter @cutiehollands@loserparker @madmadmilk @hollandlovely @spiderboytotherescue@hollandbaby @dtftomholland @cabbagebag @iknowisoundcrazy@spiderman-n @luvnyuh @parkerpuffwrites @thwip-it-real-good@positiveparker @ap93mcu @popculture-parker @bilkyrie @pineapplwz@thequeensardine @hollandroos

@mikalaka @awkwardfangirl2014@booksaremylife @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mcuspidey @summernykole@smashley816 @unicorn-princess-1999 @uwu-peter-parker-uwu @shawnraulparker@curlyhairedparker @curlytoms @darlingxholland@smexylemony @musiclover1263 @hueppily @therealcap@alwaysafanficwriter @timelock97 @trustfundparker @bon-travail98@babyplutoszx2 @xxtomxo @que-es-life @spider-babes @expcto-ptronum @rosieredcheeks @laucontrerasv @sweet-baby-cakes @mismatchingsocks @rxsesinjune @toomuchdaegu @baebeepeach@killer-barnes @hauntedbysilence @fratboievans @splashofbi @nicole-lynne@whydidichoosebiochem @parkerindustrys @parkersvibes @tomhollandsbitch @summertime-acoustic @solarspidey@enchantingkittengaditor @hcneybugs @queenofthefangirls7 @fabtasticass@driftingtonystark @txmhoelland @applenter @little-hoseok @mayaisntfunny @toodeeptowake @dangerousluv1 @chubby-cheek-calum @awwyeaahh @aussie-mantle @spiderkat1248 @underoosjae @ultrunning @stormyparker@supernatural-girl97 @petersfreckles @tiny-parker@madeinthemidnightmemories @iamcalledsteph @bellsclarkee@iamscribby519 @captainsteverodgersgirl @jessjesstotherescue @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @littlebookbengal @danicarosaline @xplodingsocks@yourwonderbelle @tommyhollandaisesauce @spiderrpcrker

@mellow-delight@danny-the-coolest @gennyld-blog @parkerstylesperalta @spidey-waffles11@wisdomsprydexparker @hannahholland1811 @hufflepuff-wanda @what–you–egg @lexshead @thisismyblogthing @i-stan-brie-larson @ohmyquackson@tiny-friggin-human @deathofmissjackson @stop-wonder-think @alexs-mardy-bum @marshmallow-babe @smolholland56 @relise-thefury @stretchkingblog97 @1022bridgetp @nedthegay @jurassicparker@fairydustparker @altuniverse @rekrappeter @sofiarasines @misslexilouwho @kissykissykissykissykissy @tomshufflepuff @theideasofa-troubleminded @bearsbeetsbarnes @lala-florez @plxstic-rose @cancerous-lizard666 @quinjetboi

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland uni au

807 notes · View notes

nastyboyluke · 5 years

Text

ARE YOU OK? - calum hood

words: 1.2k

warnings: curse words & mentions of drugs

based off ARE YOU OK? by daniel caesar

“are you ok?”

he looked at her with this gaze. he didnt even really hear what she said but whatever it was, it made him giggle a little.

“calum? whats wrong with you?”

“nothin’” he answered. “im perfectly fine.”

she gave him a concerned look before staring at the bottles scattered across the house and even some drugs. she looked back at calum, shaking her head.

“you’re crying.”

“no im not, you are.” he smiled. however, there were tears streaming his cheeks. she was the girl that broke his heart and she thought she could come up into his house and simply ask: are you ok?

a sigh left the girls lips, running her fingers through her hair before picking up empty bottles. calum watched her carefully before picking up the bottle of beer he was currently working on and taking a sip from it.

“is this all you’ve done since i’ve been gone?” she called from the kitchen, throwing the bottles in a trash bag.

“maybe.” he answered quietly, pushing himself off the couch to follow her.

she dropped the trash bag, standing in front of him. her eyes were warm, comforting. and so was her touch. she brought her hand up to his cheek, her skin baby soft and still smelt of the perfume he bought her ages ago in paris.

“calum, this needs to stop. its not healthy, mentally and physically.”

he shrugged, chuckling a little. “i seem pretty okay.”

“well its not..” she replied, her eyes getting watery. she pulled and it made him sad seeing her sad. she turned away from him, continuing to pick up more bottles, sniffling a little every few seconds.

“i miss you y/n,” calum spoke up. “come back.”

she scoffed, dropping the bag again, leaning against the counter looking at him. “calum we can’t work if you’re like this. and correct me if i’m wrong, but you’re the one that fucked up; going around and messing with women behind my back.” she spat, biting down on her lip quickly after. calum frowned, walking over to her, arms wrapping around her.

“i told you i’m sorry..”

“yeah will sorry doesn’t always fix things.” she mumbled, pressing her cheek against his chest even tho she wanted to punch him at the same time.

“stay the night,” he whispered. “please, baby.”

her stomach did a little flip at the pet name, her arms squeezing his sides. sighing, she nodded stiffly before pulling away to go back to cleaning up the house a little. while she did so, calum wandered back to the couch, just gazing into space. it wasn’t until she finished cleaning, she sat next to him.

“when was the last time you showered?”

“i dunno, a few days ago?” he shrugged, grabbing his pack of cigarettes, pulling out a cancer stick and shoving it between his chap lips, lighting it.

however, he didn’t get to smoke it for long as she grabbed it from of his mouth and putting out in the ashtray full of old ashes and cigarette buds. “go shower.”

“but i dont wanna,” he groaned, still getting up anyways. she pointed toward the bathroom, calum sighing as he went.

while calum stood in the shower, the hot water trickling down his back as he stared at his feet, sighing. he knew his actions were wrong. he knew that the reason they fell apart was him. yet he still pretended to ignore it just so it didn’t hurt him even more than it already did.

once he was cleaned and washed, he stepped out, drying off and putting on fresh clothes before walking out to see her sitting on the couch still. when she heard his footsteps, she turned and looked up at him.

as much as she didn’t want to miss the maori boy, she still cared about him dearly. she missed waking up to seeing him smile, the smell off his cologne that stuck to every article of clothing he owned & driving around town at stupid hours in the night.

“don’t you feel better?” she gave him a small smile.

“nope.” he sadly smiled back at her.

“c’mon cal,” she sighed. “quit being like this.”

“being like what? depressed?” he shot her a look before looking at the coffee table. a cigarette or a blunt? he chose the one that made him feel the most numb.

just as earlier, he lit the blunt, letting the smoke fill his body before letting the thick smoke fall past his lips as he fell back on the couch. she watched him do this and she just felt anger bubble inside her.

“quit fucking being like this calum!” she finally snapped, making him jump. “you act like you havent done shit, when it was all you. to be honest, i wouldn’t even be here unless it was for ashton because you wanna know why?” she leaned forward, tears building up in her pretty eyes. “because i knew you were such a mess and it hurts me to see you like this. but i did it anyways because i care about you but how can i help you when you cant even care for yourself?”

calum saw a tear slip from her eyes as she got up and wandered somewhere in his house but didnt know where. a lump began to build up in his throat, now realizing he has once again messed up hurting his girl. he sat there for a minuet or two before getting up and looking for her, calling out her name.

there was no answer. but he heard her.

when he pushed open the door to his bedroom, he saw her, sitting on his sheets, crying and wiping her eyes. calums heart was racing and he felt so bad for hurting her. for hurting them.

slowly, he stepped forward, sitting in front of her, putting her chin up. she looked at him with her glossy eyes as she looked back at his bloodshot ones. while he continued to gaze at her, calum brought his hand up to her cheek, causing her to lean into it, his thumb running across her skin.

“are you ok?” he asked her this time. she shook her head, letting out a sob, shutting her eyes as tears fell into the palm of his hand.

calum knew it was a stretch but, his other hand held her face, kissing her lips. everything felt gentle. the way he held her pretty face in his hands, the way his lips molded with her own, even his breathing. he felt as if he was on a high. but one that was different than one he normally felt and he was pretty sure she felt it too because she melted at his touch.

she leaned backward, letting herself fall onto his pillow as he hovered over her, reconnecting with their lips, causing a soft moan to slip from his girl at the feeling. he pulled from her lips, kissing her jaw, her shoulders and down her arms to her hands before back to her mouth.

she was no longer crying but her heart was beating out of her chest. in that moment, she felt a little bit more than okay, being taken to back to old memories and stolen kisses when the two weren’t so toxic.

“calum,” she whispered, pulling and opening her eyes. he looked at her, eyes sparkling, looking for a glimmer of hope for the two of them. maybe they can learn to love each other again. maybe they’ll be okay. maybe they can he happy again.

“i cant do this.”

and just like that, he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces like the first time.

#5sos #calum hood #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5sos writing #calum 5sos #calum hood blurb #calum hood writing #calum hood imagine #calum x reader #calum hood smut

183 notes · View notes

saizoswifey · 5 years

Note

Helloooo. I'm not even sure if you're taking requests at the moment but if you are can I ask for some smutty headcanons for our loveable and slightly scary Nobuyuki? Or Ieyasu? Or maybe both? hehehe 🙈♥

The thirst for this soft Yandere is real! And I love it so much! Alright, my friends! Here we go, thank you for the requests and sorry it has taken me a while to get to this one~

Just warning this is…the longest one yet lol.

{Nobuyuki} {N//SFW HCs}

The first time you have sex, the entire scenario had been manipulated and crafted and designed by Nobuyuki himself, with you none the wiser.

When he felt you were ready, cleverly, he began to pull away from you. He began to work later into the evenings, he would be curt in the halls as you passed each other, and he no longer touched you or held you when you lay together in bed. All while knowing this would drive you to concern over his affections for you, and lead you to miss the comfort of his touch.

He wanted to drive you to be the one to reveal your desire to have sex and beg him to take the next step

When you finally brought it up, and the fact that you were worried he might have had a change of heart about you and didn’t desire you in the same way you desired him, he feigned shock and heartache.

“It would seem I’ve been rather neglectful of you and your feelings. And in turn, given you the impression I did not desire more intimate relations with you when that is quite the opposite…I’m ashamed, can you ever forgive me?”

And of course, after making up he’ll be ever the gentleman, feigning hesitancy and asking if you are quite sure you are ready to know him in that way. And after your miscommunication, you will be eager to assure him of your ready-ness.

Sex with Nobuyuki started off as nothing super fancy or intense. He didn’t want to scare you off, and thought it better to ease you into it.

Lots of slow, deep kisses, his hands caressing you gently between your legs. Exploring all the ways to make you wet. He’s careful and calculated, applying varying pressure and watching how you respond. Finally dipping a finger inside of you and reminding you with a calm soft voice that you have nothing to worry about, just relax your body and let him take care of you.

Despite the desire to come inside of you, he holds off for a while for your sake. He wants to get you pregnant but not enough to do it before you’re settled in your lives together.

Until then, he does find it pleasant to pull out and finish himself on your thighs or ass or down your throat.

He’ll “accidentally” come on your face or tits other times

“Oops. How dreadful of me…hold still, dear one,” with his thumb he wipes at the thick white come splattered across your nose and cheek and lashes, but there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looks down at you. And in the middle of cleaning you up, his hands stop to grip your face in place so he can kiss you deeply, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth with a fierce hunger. “Mmn, however, I must confess seeing your usually sweet and innocent face such a mess is…extremely erotic.”

Favorite sex position:

Gives him the best view of your breasts and pussy, easy access to caress your skin and stimulate your clit and he can see himself penetrating you

Sex gets kinkier and kinkier the longer you are together and the more he feels comfortable that you won’t be scared off

He’ll play between your legs for a moment and then push your thighs apart, sitting back from the bedding and asking if he can see you touch yourself.

“Please, I only wish to see what makes you feel good. If it makes you more comfortable, I’ll touch myself as well. Haha, don’t be shy.”

The first time he ate you out he had been simply kissing you while finger fucking you. His face trailed down your torso and he asked, while rubbing your clit, if he might be granted permission to taste you down there as well. His wet luscious lips and the way he sucked and lapped at your clit and folds had your consciousness bright white and floating out of your body. He was relentless and clearly enjoying himself, and the way you buried your fingers in his thick fluffy head of hair and pushed up into his face made him hum in delight.

“Do you like this? You’re so wet, and you’re making some incredible faces when I…suck…here…Mmn, your moan is rather sexy…as much as I’m enjoying teasing you like this, I don’t think I can hold back much longer”

Nobuyuki has a very high sex drive hidden behind a genial smile. He is CONSTANTLY watching you lustfully, he’s just extremely good at hiding it.

He can’t help but stare at your hips as you serve tea in the main hall and the way your hands wrap around the cups. The nape of your neck makes his mouth practically water. And he hasn’t been paying any mind to the words you’re speaking as you find him in the corridor, because he’s too busy watching your lips move and imagining them trailing down his torso in quiet moonlight before the tip of his cock presses through them to be enveloped by the warm wet of your tongue

Several times he has dropped something on purpose, just to be able to watch you bend over and pick it up.

“Accidentally” spills his tea on you while you’re serving him in his room.

“Dear oh dear, sometimes I don’t know how I manage to dress myself in the morning with these clumsy hands of mine. You’re not hurt, are you? Here, allow me to help.”

He’ll towel off your breasts with care, lift the layers of your kimono to expose your thighs.

“Pardon me, we must make sure you haven’t been burned, after all.”

He runs the cloth up your thighs higher and higher, kneading the plushness with his fingers and before you know it he’s removing your obi to get you out of those wet clothes so you don’t catch a cold. Trailing kisses over the injured flesh, murmuring of how you taste of tea now, until his luscious lips brush up against your pussy and his tongue draws up slowly to part your folds

Very instructive in bed. He enjoys telling you what to do, and how to do it. He is amazing at giving praise and encouraging you to endure whatever it is he’s doing to you.

He loves you on your knees in front of him. Where he can put his hands in your hair or cup your face and run a thumb along your cheek which is stretched by the tip of his cock as he thrusts into your mouth.

“Ahh…that’s good, darling. You’ve learned to take me so well in this mouth of yours But can you take me deeper?” he presses his cock farther into your throat, hips snapping more furiously. “Mmmn–yeahh, yeah use your tongue like that, I’m c-close. Keep sucking just like that. Drink it all up like a good girl.”

Extremely possessive and jealous. If he feels as though someone (Saizo, Yukimura etc) is stealing your affections and attention from him you best believe he’s fabricating some sort of task for you to do that will keep you busy in his room until he can sort it out. (By any means necessary). Meanwhile, he’ll be extra clingy and turbulent in the bedroom.

He regularly marks you during sex

On your breasts and hips and thighs, he’ll latch his lips and suck and lap at the bruises he creates with delight

But he does so in visible places when he is feeling insecure. He’ll leave a scattering of red petals across your neck and chest and then send you out the next day on errands in town or to do your daily chores in the castle. He doesn’t care who sees

“Are you alright? Your neck…” Yukimura asks you at breakfast

“Haha,” Nobuyuki chuckles, pretending to be a bit shy, “It’s alright, Yukimura. I must have gotten carried away last night, that’s all”

LOVES to whisper the naughtiest raunchiest shit in your ear in public and smile, walking away as if he did nothing at all. He’ll pull you aside in the middle of your dusting or delivering letters and speak in a soft low voice meant only for your ears

“Don’t work too hard, today. You look especially beautiful with your hair done up with the pin I bought for you, and I’ve been thinking of pulling it back in my hands and running my tongue down that intoxicating chin and neck of yours since breakfast. Would you like that, dear one? Are you getting wet at the thought of me pressing you into the floor, ripping this beautiful fabric from your body and stuffing it in your mouth as I have my way with you? Hmm, you are, aren’t you… I can see in your eyes you’re begging for it. How did I end up with such a naughty woman for a wife? Oh, don’t fret…as soon as dinner is over I’m going to fill every inch of you and fuck you until you pass out in my arms.”

Nobuyuki definitely been gifted, much to his dismay, goods such as erotic books and lubes and oils and libido driving teas and potions and ROPES that won’t leave marks from Saizo. Yukimura is always curious to see what Saizo has given Nobuyuki for his birthdays and as your wedding/anniversary presents WHY WON’T ANYONE SHOW HIM WHAT WAS IN THE BOXES (Yukkins bls you DONT wanna know)

Not that he doesn’t use some of it….of course

You never have to worry about someone walking in on you both fucking, Jinpachi is ever vigilant and no one has caught wind of what goes on behind closed doors aside from Saizo occasionally walking by the bedroom and offering to “help by looking over sick MC and administering medicine” though he knows she isn’t sick she’s just fucked out of her mind

When you’re both ready to try for kids, be prepared for Nobuyuki to fuck you several times a day/night.

It’s rare for him to go a single round. It’s his duty as a man and future leader of Sanada to produce an heir, after all

The fact that it turns him on is just a bonus

Nothing makes him shiver quite as much as the feeling of spilling himself inside of your clenching walls. He likes to hold your hand sometimes when he comes in you, kiss you deeply and grunt into your mouth as he fills you with come.

He’ll flip you over and raise your ass into the air in an effort to keep his come inside of you until he’s ready to fuck you again, kiss down your back and pull out so he can see for himself the milky white semen.

“Stay just like that, my lovely, strong, and beautiful wife. Feel what I’ve left inside of you. Ah…what’s this? Hm. That’s not good…You’ve spilled some, can you feel it dripping down your thigh? Haha,” Nobuyuki swipes at your thigh with his hand, bringing the wetness up to stroke your sensitive pussy, making you shake. His voice is soft and full of love, despite his scolding, and before you know it the tip of his cock is once again pressed to enter you. “Don’t worry, darling. You’re doing wonderfully. I’m already on the verge of filling you up again…I have no doubt you’ll be with child soon,” he pushes inside you with a sharp thrust.

Doesn’t mind playing with you in inappropriate places or pulling you aside to fuck you in the middle of your chores.

Dusting the corridor right before dinner prep? A hand will pop out from a dark unused room to cover your mouth and muffle your screams while lips kiss a frenzy on your neck and cheeks. Dragging you inside. His familiar scent followed by that low honeyed voice telling you to remain calm will give Nobuyuki’s identity away, and keep you from panicking when you feel his large hand slip inside your collar to grope your breast and tweak your nipples. His hard length pressing against you from behind.

“Shh, don’t be frightened, dear one. It’s just me. However, I’m afraid you won’t be making it in time to start dinner preparations…”

He’s got EXTREMELY nimble fingers from years and years of sewing, and he can have you unravel as easily as a bolt of fine cloth at his touch without breaking the slightest sweat. It’s his go-to when he needs to recoup between rounds. He can get you off or bring you to the brink of orgasm and down again in moments with his fingers alone. He enjoys toying with you. Pressing in different spots fast and slow while sucking your breasts and relishing the way you writhe and moan for him

If it’s late in the evening and he’s been buried in paperwork only to finally realize its past dark and you are hard at work organizing letters but exhausted and lonely looking he’ll pull you into his lap and cradle you in his arms, running fingers through your hair. Before long his lips are at your neck and his hands have become to roam, stroking your sides and thighs and breasts.

“Nn-Nobuyuki…we shouldn’t…here,”

“Shh, quiet.”

He’ll slip one of his expensive writing brushes between your teeth. Bunching the fabric to urgently pull your hem up above your hips and expose you to his fingers and his hard cock pressing from underneath you

His favorite body parts on you would be your neck and thighs

If he had to choose between breasts and ass he would choose ass. He also prefers girls that are a bit thicker. He lives for the slapping sound as he pounds into you and it just feels good and healthy to have some soft plush cushion to grip in his hands

He loves hearing you moan for him but he likes to keep his sex acts entirely discreet. He would hate for people to hear you because not only does he want to keep everything about you for himself, he doesn’t want people to know his business. Ever. So expect to be gagged often with wads of soft cloth or his hand over your mouth to muffle your voice.

Nobuyuki’s biggest turn-ons are:

The back of his neck. He loves when you stroke there softly with your fingertips in between playing with his hair. Quickest way to get him to shiver and melt. If he’s working and you come up from behind to hug him and plant kisses there, be prepared to get yanked underneath him in a millisecond.

The little things you do that show you genuinely care for him. Darning his clothes, working hard at his side, showing a genuine interest in the Sanada and his work. He loooves to see you fitting in at the castle and smiling and having fun joking with Yukimura and the others.

You, pregnant

Whispering in his ear when he is inside you. Tell him you love him. Tell him you want him to savor your body, that he can do anything he wishes to you. Say you belong to him, body and soul, and his jaw will clench with the effort to not come right then and there

Playing games with him in the bedroom. You are the esteemed Lord and Lady Sanada everywhere else, so its a huge turn on when he can come back to his chambers and really let loose with you. Be flirty and interesting. Tie yourself up and wait for him to come to bed and oh no, you’re a scared captive of the powerful Lord Sanada unable to escape from your restraints and helpless against whatever he might wish to do with you. Beg him to make you come but he’s not allowed to use his hands.

Have secrets. He’s someone who thrives on the secret and shady. He would adore having little secret sayings or signals you guys can share even if its in front of others that lets you both know you’re thinking of one another, such as a special way you wear your hair or a specific pin you use, to a phrase like “I heard the most magnificent birds this afternoon” which meant you were longing for the other yet you could say it even in the main hall as casual as can be and no one else would understand. Wake up one morning and tell him your mouth is his for the day, he owns it, and can call you for a kiss or anything he liked with your mouth at any moment that day.

He loves doting on you. Let him do it. Let him take care of you. He’s used to taking care of those he loves, and seeing as he feels sometimes it’s all he can do, it gives him great satisfaction. He loves you dearly and would move the earth for you were it possible. Let him drape you in fine colorful fabrics, let him wake up from a late night of sex and dress you himself. Wait for him wearing nothing but the fine jewels he’s recently purchased for you. Demand some exotic dessert or fruit and share it with him in bed, naked.

On that note, because of his tendency to take control of everything (and the pure enjoyment he gets out of power) he is a dom in the bedroom

Well-groomed down below. And everywhere else, he always smells pleasant and takes pride in caring for his looks.

A rather sizeable cock with a very slight upwards curve. He’s also got a really plump ass and his hip bones are hypnotic. You can basically convince him to say yes to anything while your lips are worshipping at the skin of his bare hips

He would never hurt you, but sometimes he gets so possessive and intense that it can be a bit scary. He ALWAYS has eyes (Jinpachi) on you If you go somewhere without telling him first (like to meet a new male grocer in town etc) and the guy has been hitting on you or Nobuyuki thinks you’ve been spending a suspicious amount of time with him, expect a hurricane of emotions to hit you like a ton of bricks

Usually, he can control himself, hide his anxiety under the mask of a smile or frown and ask you to please let him know where you are because he was quite worried

But other times. He’ll interrogate you, serious face but calm-voiced, what you were doing and why and where without informing him. If you knew how dangerous it was to be around some strange man who clearly has less than honorable intentions with his beloved. You’re confined to the room for the next few days, the other maids can handle your share of work for a short while. He’ll get up close to you, hold your face and look in your eyes

“You know I only do these things because I love you…don’t you? You’re the most precious thing in my life,” he pulls you close by your waist, ripping your obi from you with frightening speed and burying his face in your neck. “You’re mine…” he kisses a frenzy from your neck to your chest, where his hands are yanking at your collar to expose your breasts. “I’ll stop at nothing to keep you safe and here with me.”

And nothing can help whoever has caught the brunt of his anger when he’s in an unforgiving mood, or if they touched you or came on to you in any sort of forward way. He can, will, and has razed homes and businesses to send a message. And a single command to Jinpachi and they will disappear, and it would be no different to Nobuyuki than asking if breakfast was ready. Anyone who dare hurt or steal his dear one will be stepping into their own grave.

Jerks off a normal amount but less so since you two became intimate. He does have a few of your personal items he’s stolen (you thought you lost them) that he keeps hidden for himself. They smell like you or remind him of you and every now and then he’ll stroke himself with the item in his other hand. Or simply to the thought of you

Likes PDA and doesn’t have a problem with it, in the correct setting. He’ll gladly hold your hand walking through town, and he likes to pull you close and drape an arm around you for feasts where everyone is drinking and dancing and having fun. Plus, in Nobuyuki’s eyes its great fun to kiss you on the cheek or a quick one on the lips and watch his brother short circuit or fawn over what a lovely couple you both make

Has some mommy issues, and he’d never admit it, but it turns him on greatly when you take care of him when he is sick. Usually, when he is under the weather he just pushed through and pretended he was fine. He doesn’t like to show himself vulnerable or weak. Jinpachi would help him out if he was very very ill. But you’re so soft and kind and sweet, bringing him broth and porridge and spoon feeding him. Changing out his washcloths and sitting by his side. This feeling of comfort and warmth was something he thought he had lost long ago, and his heart was so full he was desperate to recover and spend what energy he had into ravishing you and giving back that love.

You’re not allowed to treat anyone else when they’re sick. Conveniently you always have some mountain of work to do and a team of maids is already taking care of the invalid.

On that motherly note, it really gets him going when he sees you with children or teaching chibi sasuke something new. It reminds him that he picked the right woman to be at his side, and it makes him all the more eager to get a family going with you

Has CRAZY floof sex hair. Like. Every single time even if its a quickie. Somehow the floof just poofs more and parts are going every which way, which embarrasses him greatly. But if it’s you there smiling and giggling and fixing it for him, well, that’s alright with him.

Really enjoys soft, happy, romantic sex. Waking up earlier than normal with you and the sun is shining brightly and its peaceful. The scent of spring flowers thick in the air and a few quick good morning kisses turn into deep slow makeout sessions. You both have bed head and a bit of sleep still heavy in your eyes but he thinks you’re beautiful, whispering such as he rolls on top of you, the tip of his cock entering you and the thrusting of his hips so sultry and drawn out that you can’t help but moan and cling to him

He’s talkative during sex, and usually only moans when he is close to coming. Its a deep and breathy drawn out moan, right from his chest

He is fantastic with aftercare. He likes to stay joined for some time after coming, and will advise you to stay still and relax so he can clean you up himself after he finally pulls out. With a soft cloth, he takes pleasure in looking you over as if you were a little doll and wiping you down carefully.

If you’ve been trying for a baby he’ll kiss your stomach then your lips and say an encouraging prayer that this time is the time. He’ll hold you from behind, clasping your hand in his, and talk about baby names and how Yukimura will be so annoyingly overjoyed to train if it’s a boy, and how beautiful they will be looking like their mother if it’s a girl, and how spoiled

Going to sleep still naked is very common because he likes to feel your warmth as much as he can and Jinpachi is always guarding the door.

Likes to hum while he holds you in his arms and puts you to sleep, it’s usually melodies his mother used to hum to him and its surprisingly relaxing to have your body exhausted from sex and then feel the vibration from his chest on your back and his warmth radiating through you and the sweet sound of his voice

Also gets incredibly open after sex. These are usually the times he reveals his true self and feelings, the things he keeps hidden almost always. He’ll talk to you about his mother sometimes, and his struggles to fit in his role. He also enjoys listening to you talk and unburden yourself on him

Loves to watch you sleep. It’s one of his greatest joys knowing that he alone is the one privileged enough to see you in such a vulnerable state. Leave everything to him, depending on how rough or how many rounds the night before, your schedule of work for the following day will be fixed accordingly.

#slbp #samurai love ballad party #slbp headcanons #slbp nobuyuki #nobuyuki sanada #lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa #Anonymous #n//sfw #my writing

244 notes · View notes

stories-mostly · 5 years

Text

Starks Bug

Tony Stark x son!reader

Words: 1934

As promised chapter 5! This chapter will have a thing that'll be important in later chapters. Have fun reading :D

Chapter 5

Now that you were five and a half, you knew how to write both your ABC's and numbers up to 47 flawlessly. You knew how to write your name and could solve some simple math. You could also write every word as long as someone spelled it for you and you were getting the grip of reading too.

Your dad and uncles are proud, Mr Krabs the crayfish lobster was healthy, and now? You had a new aunt! Her name is Pepper and you love her! She was so nice to you. The first time you met her she had brought ice cream. So lil young you loved her the moment you ate that delicious treat.

Currently you were drawing your family at the daycare part of the company. You were trying really hard to get each one right. With shaky writing and the spelling help of one of the teachers you completed your piece. Without telling anyone you slipped out of the room with your drawing in hand off to find your dad. You knew the route so you thought it was okay to go alone.

Walking past labs into the elevator and then up to the floor your father worked at. Pepper was sitting at her desk typing on the computer. She didn't notice you at first.

"Aunt Pepper look what I just made!" you said holding your drawing in front of you over the desk. She jumped when she heard your voice.

"Oh my god (y/n)! What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to show you and daddy my drawing! Do you like it?"

"Oh I love it. Explain it to me!" she encouraged.

"Alright! So this is Daddy, he has a screwdriver cause he's always making things. This is you, you're holding some papers. This is Happy he's grumpy because I ate all his chocolates. This here is Obi. He is on the phone talking about work. And that's Dum-E and Jarvis. Oh and this is Rhodey he's flying a plane!" you explained pointing to each shaky character who vaguely looked different from the next.

"That's so good, let's show it to your dad and then get you back to your friends shall we?"

You nodded and followed her into your dad's office.

"Look what I drew dad!" you ran over to him while he was at the phone.

"One moment." he said and pressed a button on the thing the phone was connected to. "Hey bug, what are you doing here? You drew something? Let me see."

"I came here to show you my drawing."

"Yes he came here, all on his own." Pepper said putting weight on her last words. Tony's eyebrows shot up but he was drawn back to you quickly as you crawled into his lap and explained your picture all over again. Gaining praise and a hug from your dad who kept the drawing.

Pepper brought you back into the daycare afterward and had a talk with your teacher. You didn't know what they were talking about too busy going back to playing with your friends. You only noticed later that she was gone and that the door got a new handle that was really high up a few days later.

Back home you were still full of energy since you had a nice long nap at daycare.

You were walking around the house with your lightsaber pretending to be a Jedi. You fought your way past your imaginary enemies and used the force to throw things at them like you had seen in the movies your dad watched with you.

You reached out your hand at a cup standing on the table and made a motion toward the enemy. The cup was sitting on the edge of the table and when you completed your motion you watched in slow motion as the cup slowly fell toward the ground a few feet away from the table. The crash of the shattered cup could be heard throughout the room. Out of shock you let your lights aber fall and your hands covered your mouth.

Did you really just use the force? You were happy thinking that you might have special powers, and yet you were also absolutely terrified. What had you done? What could you do? What was even going on? Was that actually you that broke the cup?

The crash brought your father into the room.

"Woah Bug, seems like your fight is pretty intense. Let's clean it up come on." Tony said once he realized that you are okay. You followed him to the kitchen not saying a word.

"You okay? It's fine. Don't worry, not a big deal." He said reassuring you. You however were just coming back out of your trance. You looked around the kitchen and then at your dad.

"Dad," you said seriously. "I'm a Jedi."

Your father chuckled and ruffled your hair.

"Of course you are my little padawan." he continued to chuckle and moved to clean up your mess. But you weren't having it. He needed to belive you. You grabbed his hand with both of yours and stared intently into his eyes.

"No daddy, I used the force. I didn't hit the cup, I used the force!" Tony was a bit confused as to why you insisted on having used the force.

"Okay Bug, lets first clean up the cup pieces and then you can show me how you did it alright?"

You nodded reluctantly and let go of his hand. While he was sweeping up the mess you got a plastic cup from the kitchen and placed it on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Before you could attempt to use the force again Jarvis interfered.

"Sir, it might be of more help to just show him the surveillance footage." he said and pulled up the footage on the screen. There you were, breaking the cup without touching it. Woah.

"Thank you Jarvis!" you said and went to drag your dad in front of the screen.

"Look! Here I told you I used the force! Jarvis play it please."

Tony looked at the screen just in time to see you throw the cup while standing a few feet away.

Once the initial shock blew over he grinned and said.

"Well I guess I'm now living under the same roof as a Jedi." he said hiding the fact that he had no idea how to deal with that situation. Or how you could even do that.

The next day the two of you talked about your "force" a bit more deeply. He told you all about why you had these powers and why you can't tell anyone that you had them. As he put it, the dark side would try and recruit you. And neither of you would want that. You barely noticed that the circles around his eyes were a bit deeper than usual.

You practiced with your force daily. It was an amazing experience for you but really tiring. Much less scared than before you were extremely happy with being able to do these cool things. Soon you would find out that it wasn't actually the force but a gene within you that gave you powers but you wouldn't stop calling it the force until you were about 10 and that was long ways away for you.

Not to mention all the attempts that would follow to build a real life lightsaber until your dad banned you from trying after you almost cut your whole arm off. 8 year old you would be left with a pretty cool scar though. And who could say they had gotten a scar from a real lightsaber.

"What are you doing?" An amused voice came from behind you.

You spun around and saw your father with an amused look on his face. There was nothing funny about the situation in your book.

You had been trying, and failing, to accurately use your force to make yourself some cereal. And by the looks of scattered cereal and your soaking wet figure, it wasn't going well at all. This was your 14th attempt and you were still messing it up. It was extremely demotivating to repeatedly fail.

"Making cereal," you said in a dissapointed tone.

"Are you part of it? Or did you just want to take a milk shower?" He chuckled and went his way to grab some paper towels. You didnt find that funny at all. With the most hate a five year old can muster to show on his face you glared at the mess infront of you. And left. Not caring about the trail of milk you left as you walked into your room and struggled to take off you wet shirt. You really hated, absolutely despised failing or losing as any child your age.

You gave up taking off your shirt and just plopped down onto the ground with your arms crossed.

A minute into your moping session a knock sounded from the door. You didn't answer still too frustrated in your inability to make breakfast. Another knock sounded followed by your dads voice.

"Hey Bug, can I come in?" You croaked out a small yes and drew your knees to your chest.

The door opened and your father walked in concern written all over his face.

"What's wrong bug? You wanna talk about it, maybe?" He sounded unsure as he said that.

"Or we can just, sit here, if you want." He continued sitting down next to you.

Your scowl slowly transformed itself into a frown and then morphed it's way into a face of an incredibly sad and frustrated young boy.

"I hate it." You mumbled shakingly burrowing your head in your arms.

"What? Do you hate I mean." Tony despite having dealt with your emotions for five+ years now was still unsure if what he said each time was right.

"I, I hate that. I dont know how to say," You said truthfully. It was hard to articulate your emotions.

"That's okay. Do you want me to guess?" He asked and you just nodded.

"Is it about, not being able to pour cereal with your, force?"

You bit your lower lip and nodded, tears forming in your eyes.

"Can I tell you something?" He asked waiting for confirmation before continuing. "I don't think your all that bad at it. And I dont think you should give up just yet. Look sometimes when you try something new, you'll fail. You'll make mistakes and maybe even break stuff. But you know what will happen after you've failed and failed and broken stuff? You will end up winning. Because you learned while you were making mistakes," he pause to look at your reaction. You hadn't moved. He sighed.

"Maybe, let me just say it like this. How long did it take you to make an object float for more than a few seconds? Because I know that you didn't just do it on the first try. It took you about a week to just make an empty cup float mid air for more than 10 seconds. And then you learned how to move it and that took you long as well. And you just now started trying to make cereal. And it wasn't even that bad. A few weeks ago you couldn't even lift the milk jug and now you're moving it too? That's a lot of progress and you'll continue to make progress and failing, that's just part of it. God knows how often I failed to make Dum-E work." He had rambled along as he was trying to encourage you but that was okay. Because despite the amount of words he said the message was clear to you.

Within a week you could make yourself cereal with both eyes closed.

Tags: @shannonr2003 @art-estrange @nicholasbich @tater-thottie @tonystanktheirondad @gaylemonshark

#tony stark x son!reader #tony stark x male!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark #m!reader #marvel reader insert #male reader #male!reader #marvel #reader instert #child reader #child!reader #starks bug #starks bug chapter 5 #chapter 5 #reader #x reader #son reader #son!reader

192 notes · View notes

zayashmaya · 5 years

Text

Gods and Monsters - 10 - Because of You.

Tagora x Reader; SFW

You catch up with Lynera, and an outing with Tagora gets interrupted by Zebruh.

It was a mad world, we lived for fun And we got shit for free Had a face like an angel, but inside my heart was as black as a broke movie screen … But then I saw you standing there, like a millionaire Give me a number, call me before I get stupid Make me uncrazy like you did

Look at me now, I have everything You gave to me and my heart can sing I was a kid who could only drink Dance on tables, makin' deal with devils like a drunk beauty queen Fighting the fantasy, hooked on the scene, but you brought me to my knees And it's all … because ... of you

- Lana Del Rey

You weren’t quite ready to head home just yet. With the fire of determination burning in your soul, you hunted down Lynera — her craziness was exactly the sort of personality you wanted to bounce your new high off of. She was lurking in her hideout, focused on some sort of paperwork scattered across her desk. At your warm greeting, she instantly perked up, momentarily abandoning her work to excitedly buzz about your arrival and launching into a million rants about the other jades as you made yourself comfortable on her couch.

Dear, sweet Lynera. You let her run hot and cold with her monologuing so she got everything off her chest, because you owed her a lifetime of perfect friendship for not chasing after her when Lanque had told her off.

You hoped that bastard was fuming after your beautiful payback. Maybe you should have given him your Chittr handle, just to laugh at whatever angry insults he would have sent to you.

“So.” You began with an air of utter discreteness, checking your nails inconspicuously. “I heard you’ve been giving Lanque a hard time lately.”

Lynera had slipped back into looking over her papers before you spoke. She whirled around to face you, her pupils narrowed into thin slits and her cheeks tinted jade. “ - !!! who told you that !!!"

Oh boy. A flustered Lynera was a dangerous one. You plotted your next move carefully and hoped her knife was stashed far away somewhere. Or even disposed of, as you had recommended to her one time. “He told me,” you confessed. Lynera’s eyes widened. “He was keeping an eye on me earlier at the grub nursery and just started venting. And you know what?” You flashed her a thumbs up. “Keep up the good work.”

She blinked in astonishment before meekly fidgeting in her seat and glancing away. “ - i just couldnt let him get away with what he said to me you know.“

“It was pretty fucked up,” you said in agreement.

“ - !!! and !!! “ Her eyes lit up once more. “ - !!! i dont want him thinking that im a weak little pushover because im not !!! - !!! he has no idea who he messed with !!! - !!! that rude pathetic slut !!! “

You quietly regarded her. “Holding a grudge, are we?"

“ - !!! I — I … !!! “ Lynera bit her lip and flushed brighter than before. You furrowed your brows at her odd response. “ - im going to prove to him that im not a weakling who runs from fights and if he has a problem with how im treating him then he can come see me instead of gossiping.” She shook her head. “ - funny how hes doing exactly what he criticized me for.”

“ … it sounds like you want him to confront you again.”

“ - !!! you know what yes i do !!!” She squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest, hands clenched into fists. “ - !!! lanque probably thinks i cant take him on because i ran away last time but !!! - !!! i am stronger than he thinks and i want him to know that !!!”

“Lynera?” She calmed down momentarily and glanced at you. “Do you … Is this some sort of pitch flirting?”

Instead of the sort of vehement opposition you knew only she was capable of — volcanic outbursts and graceless flailing — Lynera merely deflated, hanging her head as her eyes swam with unshed tears. “ - … i just really hate him ok.”

Fuck. Of course she would take his challenge in stride. It was so difficult to keep up with what trolls consider platonic or not.

Guilt pierced through you as though Lynera had personally slid her knife deep into your chest. How could you have missed the signs? It’s not like Lynera was known for being subtle.

And then you remembered the sort of person Lanque was. Toxic, rotten, and completely in control of his vices. Lynera would not survive his manipulative scheming. You were anxious just thinking about how swiftly and efficiently he would break her down.

“Is he really someone you’d want to get involved with?” you asked.

“ - what why.” Lynera narrowed her eyes at you. Uh oh. “ - !!! why wouldnt i he is so hatable and and — !!!” She pushed up her glasses and rubbed away her tears. “ - maybe it could help me get over bronya i dont know.”

“Lyn, come here.”

She looked at you questioningly, and when you patted the open space beside you, she mustered up a weak smile and made her way over to you. You pulled her into a tight hug as soon as she sat down, and she squeaked in surprise, her hands hovering in the air before settling hesitantly around your waist.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” you spoke through her curly hair tickling your nose. “Hooking up with an asshole isn’t going to magically make your love for Bronya disappear. The challenge might be enticing, but you and I both know you deserve someone better.” You pulled back slightly and met her stare. “Only idiots fall for someone like Lanque. And you are not an idiot.”

Lynera sniffled, and this time, her smile was more genuine. She nodded and said, “ - maybe youre right."

“Just think on it, okay?”

“ - yes i will.”

“And will you think more on what I said before about throwing out these torture devices? You know Bronya would be horrified by the stuff in this room.”

She glanced at the iron maiden, panic blossoming on her face.

Oh, sweet Lynera. What were you going to do with her, you wondered fondly.

“You did what?!”

“You heard me.”

Tagora looked at you with beaming pride as he sipped his drink. “We’ll have to celebrate this, you know."

You giggled and waved dramatically around the cafe. “What do you think we’re here for?”

“No no, you deserve far more than a coffee for your sleazy efforts.” He placed a hand on top of yours. “I mean it, that was some top-notch payback. Clearly my influence is finally rubbing off on you.”

“Oh, Gor Gor.” You laced your fingers with his and smirked. “You should know by now that the student always surpasses the master.”

He eyed your connecting hands and blushed lightly, yet made no effort to pull away. Progress, you told yourself. “You wish," he teased. “This sort of talent is in my blood. Your intentions are ruled by something far more … concupiscent.”

“Mhm.” You took a gulp of your coffee. “What does that word mean?”

Tagora looked at you like he swallowed sour moobeast milk. This time, he retracted his hand, opting to rest his head against it. “Will you ever cease to amaze me?”

You smiled. “Never. And by the way, there’s been a new development that I may or may not need some advice on.”

“My counseling services don’t come cheap,” he snarked, and you lightly kicked him under the table, earning a disgruntled look as he wiped away the nonexistent dirt from his trouser pants.

”Anyway — pretending I did not just hear that — I realized that I might have stepped on some toes, so to speak.” Tagora quirked his head in question. “It looks like one of my friends is pitch for Lanque.”

“And why is that your problem?”

Damn, leave it to him to be so blunt. “Because she’s my friend, and I don’t want to accidentally get in between whatever fuckfest is brewing? But I also feel like I should. I don’t want her getting hurt by him.”

“What, do they have some sort of history?"

“I guess? She’s the friend who brought me to the hive party and got told off so harshly that she left in tears."

“Hah!” Tagora fell back against his chair in a fit of sharp laughter. “That’s gold. She couldn’t handle the heat then, and so what makes her think she can take him on now?”

You pursed your lips. “The girl has torture devices in her hideout, Gor Gor. Another very good reason for why I don’t want to cross her.”

He simply waved you off and snorted. “Please, like you haven’t survived worse. If you want my opinion, then I suggest you keep doing what you’re doing and let her wallow in her misery. With the stunt you pulled on him, I guarantee you have nothing to worry about. Or better yet, bulge block her, piss her off, and get with her instead.”

“That advice is the exact opposite of what I expected, and also makes no sense."

“What’s there to not understand? It’s a perfect set-up, a win-win situation if you play your cards right.” Tagora steepled his fingers and leaned forward, diabolical intent etched all over his face. “You either reveal your elicit escapades with the slutty bottom feeder and get on your pal’s bad side, or you continue this ongoing battle. It’s quite the beautiful situation, really. You have all the power here."

“This is really weird,” you admitted weakly. “You … want me to have an enemy? Wouldn’t you want me to be free from this drama and let Lanque deal with his own bullshit?”

“Uh, no? Why wouldn’t I want you to be in a kismesissitude? Especially when it’s off to such a passionate start.”

You tried several times to offer a rebuttal, but the words just couldn’t come out. “What do you mean kismesissitude?" you shrieked, earning a few glances from nearby patrons and a smarmy smile from Tagora. You blushed and toned down your outburst. “That is a relationship. What Lanque and I have is explicitly the opposite of a relationship. We — this is, i — it’s platonic hate!”

“Right. And it was also very platonic when you were slobbering all over his bulge."

“Tagora. Disgusting."

“Fine! Be in denial all you want. That’s how it starts, anyway.” He sighed and leaned back. “You owe me another drink for this headache.”

You mentally thanked him for switching the subject, because you were about to lose your mind from his ridiculous assertions. “Sure thing, just put it on your tab."

“You mean your tab.”

“Nah. I’m not exactly on a payroll here."

“Weren’t you the one who recently mentioned lavishing me in expensive chocolate and creating a pile of luxurious ablution robes? I think there was some serenading being offered as well."

“Yeah, but where do you think I’m gonna get the funds to do all of that?”

“You’re planning on wooing me with my own hard-earned money?”

You cheekily grinned and held up your drink for a toast. “Is it working so far?”

He rolled his eyes and lost the battle to return your smile, clinking his cup to yours. “I’ll decide once I see that pile.”

“Assuming that you won’t be the one to make it for me.”

“If you come back to my hive with me right now, I can guarantee a very comfortable pile made from a mountain of spreadsheets detailing your massive list of debts to me."

“And you say I lack a sense of romance — “

“ ♥ Did someone say romance?♥ ”

Oh no.

A hand settled over your shoulder, uncomfortably close to the bare skin of your neck. Tagora was staring above you with an expression of frozen civility, laced with an undercurrent of panic that only a highblood could evoke from him. And as Zebruh settled into a stool right in between you two, flashing you a toothy smile and over exaggerated wink, you wondered if Tagora would be able to take this monstrosity in stride.

“So nice of you to join us, Zebruh,” you weakly said, offering a half-assed smile.

He ignored your obvious discomfort, as usual. “Imagine my surprise when I noticed you while I was taking a stroll! ♠ Not that I was actively looking for you, though. ♠ ♣ That would be a very inappropriate thing to do, because it would seem like I’m trying to take control of your lowblood autonomy for my own selfish gain. ♣ “

“Um, w — well I am sort of on a da — “

Zebruh whirled around to face Tagora, who had noticeably straightened out as though someone had shoved a rod up his ass. He leaned in unnaturally close, forcing Tagora to inch back ever so slightly. “ ◆ Hello there, I don’t believe we’ve met! ◆ “ He held out a hand in greeting, and Tagora immediately met his handshake with vigor, as though spurred by an instinctual pull. Zebruh did not let go. “My name is Zebruh, although you’ve probably heard a lot about me already through our lovely mutual friend here. ♥ It’s so admirable to see a midblood of your stature forgoing commonplace laws to protect an alien! ♥ “

Then, and only then, did Zebruh withdraw his hold, grinning pleasantly all the while. Tagora looked absolutely murderous behind his customer service smile. “The law means everything to me — “ he forced out through gritted teeth, and before he could launch into a scathing attack, your foot darted out beneath the table to rub up against his lower leg. He met your heavy handed stare and seemed to catch the meaning behind the subtle shake of your head, because his breath escaped him like a deflated balloon as he loosened the tension in his frame and weaved his hands together in front of him. This time, his poker face was spot on. “ — and that is why I offer equal representation to all people, regardless of their blood color or species,” he finished off. “Oh, but where are my manners. I am Tagora Gorjek, legislacerator-in-training.”

Usually, Tagora finished off his introductions with the offer to call him by his nickname. He always told you that breaking the ice while networking was of utmost importance to him. The absence of such a peace offering was very telling, at least to you. And you could not be more proud, or more relieved. Zebruh would definitely have taken it the wrong way otherwise.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,“ Zebruh said, and turned to look at you with a contemplative expression. “ ♠ I didn’t know you had teals for friends. ♠ ◆ I hope you’re protecting yourself from exploitation, because they are a really ruthless bunch. ◆ “ He glanced at Tagora, the corner of his mouth curled up. “ ♣ Not that I blame you at all, of course; it’s just a teal’s nature, you know? ♣ “

Tagora sat in silence for a moment. You were starting to grow concerned before he smoothly replied, “I commend you for being so socially aware of my caste’s shortcomings. It is rare to meet an indigoblood who is capable of introspection.”

Zebruh nodded sagely. “I take this sort of stuff very seriously. ♣ Fighting for lowblood rights is an honor and privilege that very few can boast about, but I am willing to sacrifice my standing to protect the weak. ♣ “

You reluctantly patted his forearm that rested on the table in an effort to get his attention away from Tagora. It worked splendidly — Zebruh’s eyes lit up at the contact, and he scooched his stool a little closer to your side before throwing an arm around the back of your seat. “He’s really such a good friend to me, Gor Gor,” you forced out, discretely inching away from Zebruh until you sat at the edge of your chair. “Your drink is getting cold, by the way!”

Tagora brought the mug so rapidly to his face that he nearly smacked himself with it. You taught him this trick a while ago, to hide his expression if he was getting too riled up in the presence of someone who would cull him for his disobedience in an instant.

With that taken care of, you poked Zebruh’s side and said, “You don’t have to worry about Tagora. He treats me better than most!” His pleasant grin faded a little. “But not as much as you, of course.”

“ ♥ Your safety has always been my top priority, sweetheart. ♥ “ Tagora choked on his drink. “ ◆ If I don’t look out for you, then who else will? ◆ ♥ And considering how close you and I have gotten, I say this as someone who is as invested in developing our potential quadrant as you are. ♥ “

Tagora was openly glaring daggers at the back of Zebruh’s head. Your Gor Gor Panic Meter was lighting up with the intensity of the Alternian sun — you could sense a meltdown coming soon.

“That’s really so kind of you!” you squeaked. “But remember how we decided to just be friends? Very, very good platonic friends with no pale feelings whatsoever? Remember that, Zebruh?”

“I’m fairly certain her quadrants are being filled these days,” Tagora pipped up, his claws digging into his cup as his diplomatic grin took on a darker undertone.

“ ♠ Really? ♠ ” Zebruh glacially asked, retracting his arm from around your seat. “By who?”

“By me,” he replied with slight bite. “And various other individuals. Surely you must have heard, given that you are so close to her.”

Oh, your indigoblood friend did not appreciate that. “ ♣ Well that’s pretty damn presumptuous of you to say, considering you didn’t let her answer for herself! ♣ “ He shifted in his seat to face you and grasped your hands in a pleading gesture. “ ◆ My dearest companion of unspecified nature, please see this toxic situation for what it really is! ◆ ♥ You deserve to be treated like the queen you are, not silenced into submission. ♥ ”

You stared at him with a deadpan expression. “It’s really not that serious, dude.”

Zebruh sighed dramatically and shook his head. “ ◆ I can’t bear to see you beaten down like this and remain so unaware. ◆ Do you see what I mean about teals now?"

Tagora slammed his drink down on the table none too gently. “I’m terribly sorry for having given you such a poor impression of my character,” he hurriedly said. “And I wouldn’t dare presume that you are capable of ever being wrong about these things, but with all due respect, that is my moir — my associate you are speaking to, and I must politely request that you — th — that you unhand her.”

Oh my gods he almost called me his moirail and now he’s going to die after talking down to this crazy fucker —

You were frozen from an onslaught of emotions as Zebruh obliged Tagora’s demand in favor of leaning into his personal space. “You know, I’m sensing very strong hostility coming from you. ◆ I can vibe with that! ◆ ” He tugged on his bowtie and winked. “♠ If you wanted a formidable kismesis, you could have just said so. ♠ ”

Tagora looked like he was ready to faint on the spot from the suggestion. You have never seen him look so pale and scandalized. “Regrettably, I am entirely unavailable in that regard!"

“Oh. ♠ Then you’re just trying to piss me off. ♠ ” He folded his arms in an attempt to appear intimidating, yet his petulant expression made him look utterly pathetic instead. “I came all the way out here to see my best friend, so it’s kind of rude of you to lead me on with pitch flirting and leave me hanging like this!”

You needed to salvage this shitshow immediately. “Didn’t you say you were just passing by?“

Zebruh flushed indignantly. “W — well, whatever! ♣ You should be thankful that I’m even giving you the time of day — either of you! ♣ “ He pointed at you. “In fact, I’ve been nothing but kind and supportive to you, so I think you owe me for my efforts.”

Tagora sputtered in his haste to reply, but you cut him off with a sharp look. He inhaled deeply and slumped back against his chair, his eyes taking on a concerning shade of darkening yellow as he roughly carded his fingers through his hair. “What do you propose I owe you?” you asked lightly.

Zebruh’s eyes widened and he tilted his head in confusion, as though he did not expect you to be so agreeable. He tapped his chin thoughtfully until a smug look overcame him. “I’m feeling pretty hurt by all of this rude treatment. ◆ I wouldn’t mind a chance for you to join me back at my hive for a relaxing feels jam session to discuss how much this exchange has affected me. ◆ “

To you, the statement was utterly harmless — it’s not like you haven’t had a sit down with a friend to talk about personal issues before. But to Tagora, Zebruh may as well have thrown his drink in his face and pailed you right on the tabletop for all to see. His face was practically fluorescing teal, a stark contrast to the eerie orange glow of his eyes. And with the way his teeth were digging into his bottom lip to hold his outburst at bay, you suspected he was about to draw blood soon. Thank the gods Zebruh was turned away from him.

You shot out of your chair and slammed your hands down on the table. “We! We really need to get going, don’t we, Tagora?!” you exclaimed in a wavering voice. “We have to meet with Tyzias soon for your study session!” Zebruh frowned, and you hastily added, “I’m so sorry, we really lost track of time. To answer your earlier suggestion, I’ll have to say no to that, but I am very flattered by the offer! Why don’t you walk us out?”

Zebruh tisked, languidly getting up and stuffing a hand into his pocket. “Fiiine. ♠ It’s not like I was serious anyway. ♠ "

You expertly sidestepped his attempt to wrap an arm around your waist to guide you to the exit, quickly coming up to Tagora as he silently stood and watched the spectacle with no small amount of distaste coloring his sneer.

“We’re almost rid of him,” you whispered conspiratorially, ignoring his sour mood and looping your hand through the crux of his arm.

He nodded stiffly and kept you as far away from Zebruh as possible, situating himself between you two on your way out. You smiled secretly to yourself as you felt him press up against your side, presumably to keep himself away from Zebruh as well. Even in the throes of anger, Gor Gor was still a wimp around highbloods.

The crisp air filled your lungs with much-needed calmness once you stepped outside. Tagora radiated tense energy beside you, staring straight ahead as though in an effort to forget the situation he currently found himself in.

You put yourself between him and Zebruh this time, hoping he would have the chance to cool down while you handled the indigoblood. “Which way are you headed?” you innocently asked.

Zebruh pointed towards the downtown area, where the suburban streets quickly morphed into seedy-looking buildings lit up by neon advertisements. “I was on my way to a hot new club that opened up recently, before I so graciously decided to stop by and see you. ♥ I heard that the owner is a pragmatic rustblood, and I just have to meet him! ♥ ◆ Would you be interested in joining me? ◆ “ He eyed Tagora critically. “I’m sure your friend can get his homework done without you."

You heard a barely-restrained growl beside you as Tagora grasped your hand in his own with a vice-like grip. “I’m sorry, Zebruh, maybe next time,” you said with an apologetic smile, angling your body towards the opposite direction. “Text me all about it later though!”

He pouted and grumbled about not seeing you enough these days, but finally relented in the end, throwing a careless wave as he walked off. You wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t follow you, but Tagora jerked you forward and stormed towards an aimless direction.

“Tagora, slow down!” you huffed, tugging on his hand. “We’re in the clear. You don’t have to power walk us to another continent.”

“There is no place far enough away from that creature," he hissed, coming to a full stop and releasing his hold on you to stare down at his hands in livid contempt. "That disgustingly sweaty palm of his ruined my skin!” He curled them up into fists as they trembled, and his voice began to take on a hysteric edge. "And to add insult to injury, he had the fucking audacity to assume that I would break the law? Like you’re some kind of charity case to me!” he ended in a screech.

“Gor Gor, he’s gone now,” you said in a hushed whisper, hoping to quiet him down as you flushed at his outburst. To your surprise, passersby paid little to no attention to him, going about their day as though this was a normal scene. Considering the violent nature of trolls, you suspected that to be the case.

Tagora groaned and shook his head as he buried his fingers in his hair and pulled so tightly that you rapidly grew concerned for him. You gripped his shoulders and shushed him down, but he barely acknowledged you, throwing his head back as he stared wide-eyed up at the sky with a disturbing expression. “That fucking highblood thinks he can walk all over me,” he seethed, before cutting himself off with a high-pitched giggle. “And he can! He fucking can! Because I’m just a lowly ruthless teal who he feels the need to protect you from, while thinking I would spread my strut sticks for him!"

You balked at the crude statement. “Tagora, no — “

He sucked in a sharp breath and suddenly stilled. Your momentary hope of him finally calming down promptly evaporated as his eyes darkened to an alarming shade of red, his pupils narrowed into thin slits. You flinched when he finally looked at you. “That piece of shit lowlife just couldn’t leave you alone, could he?” he muttered in an eerily quiet tone. “And right in front of me, too. And I couldn’t do anything about it.” He broke off into another round of freaky giggles, no longer looking at you, but looking through you. “I may be just a weak teal, but I can still show him how gogdamn ruthless I can be, because when I sic the drones at him, he’ll be nothing but a pile of fucking ash by then!"

You stepped back as Tagora doubled over in a fit of vicious laughter. Yep, he was absolutely incomprehensible now.

It was your time to shine.

You have prepared for this moment for quite a while, considered all angles of approach and optimal spots for papping. The traditional seated frond hinge shooshpap was standard protocol, considering how squeamish he got whenever you dared to touch his face, but you have kept a killer technique hidden up your sleeve.

You had his lusus to thank for the bout of inspiration. Tagora had overworked himself into a frenzy one evening and ended up borderline passed out on the couch at his lusus’ behest, laying obediently as the ferret meticulously groomed his hair and dug his little paws into tense muscles. You had watched with curiosity, seated off to the side so as to not disturb their bonding moment. Just as you had prepared to slink away, the lusus lightly chittered at you to sit back down, and with a knowing look cast to you, he scritched at the nape of Tagora’s neck.

He had melted into absolute putty for the rest of the early morning. And if his lusus had bequeathed Tagora’s weak spot to you for a purpose, then you were obligated to carry out his wishes.

So while Tagora continued to rant and rave into the night sky, you sneaked up behind him and snuck your way under his long hair to touch the nape of his neck. Tagora froze instantly, like a prey caught in a predator’s grasp. You gave him no time to react, gently raking your nails along the exposed skin in a meandering pattern as you quietly shooshed him and petted his upper arm with your other hand.

Within a split second, all the tension in his frame melted away. His arms dropped to his sides and his head fell forward as he let out a deep sigh, giving you better access as you curled your hand around the back of his neck and stroked it with your thumb. You peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face, and you were stunned to see how relaxed he looked, eyes closed and mouth slightly open, and a substantial blush coloring his cheeks.

“Did you get it all out of your system?” you softly asked.

“Yes,” he meekly whispered.

“Will I need to resort to more shooshpaps in the near future?”

“No."

You sighed and released your hold on him, coming around to stand in front of him with folded arms. “You’re an absolute nutcase sometimes, Gor Gor.”

Tagora blinked at you, eyes finally settled back to their normal yellow hue. He huffed and looked away, still lightly blushing. “Well. I might have a bit of a problem regulating my temper. If you know a better way to deal with a lifetime of pent-up anger and humiliation brought on by the complexities of Alternian society, let me know.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to smoke a blunt once in a while.”

Tagora glared at you. “It would kill me, and I will kill you if you bring that shit anywhere near me. Bad enough that you come to my hive smelling like that garbage.”

You giggled and smiled impishly. “Looks like I won’t need to.” You wiggled your fingers. “My shooshpaps are an effective tranquilizer, apparently.”

He bit his lip. “How did you think of that move?”

Should you out his lusus as your partner in crime? Better not — you might get some more insight from the ferret at a later date. “I guess I just know you that well. It took a while to figure out your preferences, since you’re so weird about being touched.”

“So you’ve put a lot of thought into it … ?”

“Sure have,” you cheerily admitted, and Tagora’s blush reappeared with a vengeance. “Wow, that’s quite a reaction.”

You expected him to lash out at you in denial, and yet he simply shuffled in place as he rubbed his shoulder, his bang obscuring half of his face from your view. You cocked your head in confusion at his sudden silence —

And you were promptly pulled into a tight hug. Your heart thumped as you stood frozen in shock as he briefly nuzzled the side of your face before pulling away with lightning speed and settling his arms behind his back.

Tagora briefly cleared his throat before saying, “That was … a thank you. F — for caring, and … and doing that for me.”

You thickly swallowed and nodded, slowly succumbing to the realization of what your shooshpap had meant for your friendship. A while ago, you had done the same for Polypa. You recalled how strange her reaction had been, reminding you that she needed to remain professional as she fought back her flustered blushing. And the way she had melted into your touch …

It looked eerily like an orgasm, quickly followed by post-coital relaxation.

Gods, did you just …

“I, um, I’m sorry,” you blurted out, wringing your hands nervously.

He furrowed his brows. “For what?”

“For … you know, not warning you in advance? I’m just now realizing that I should have asked for your consent to do that. I never really considered how intimate a shooshpap was … “

Tagora’s eyes widened, and he softened his expression. “I don’t. I don’t mind."

“You’re not upset with me?”

“Of course not. It’s not like it w — wasn’t, ah, unwanted.” Tagora held out a hand for you. You shyly complied, and this time, his hold on you was tender as the two of you resumed your walk. “Anyway, aren’t you afraid of me when I get like that?”

You tittered. “What the heck is there to be afraid of? I know you would never hurt me. Besides, I’m pretty sure I can lift you with one arm.”

”Hilarious."

“Oh, and by the way, I figured out how I’ll fund your expensive taste.” Tagora quirked a brow, and you grinned sneakily. “I’ll be pilfering your swear jar. You owe it a hefty fee after your meltdown.”

He chuckled. “It’s still my money.”

“Not when I tell your lusus about your uncouth, boorish behavior.”

“So you know what those words mean, but not ‘concupiscent��?”

“I can only listen to Galekh for so long before my mental thesaurus gets filled up for the day.”

“Ugh.” Tagora rolled his eyes fondly, and you squeezed his hand without thought, simply basking in how happy he made you.

#self indulgent fluff #marvus next chapter with more fluff #friendsim #homestuck #hiveswap #tagora gorjek #tagora x reader #tagora/reader #lynera skalbi #gods and monsters #zebruh codakk

66 notes · View notes

tangyss · 6 years

Text

have some leakira/akandro hcs bc i love them and miss kl... boooo :’( also lmao my hcs jump from rival leakira to dating leakira to “just friends” leakira and it’s a lil bit of a mess but probably not as much a mess as some show we know huh

if the team needs akira, they always call leandro’s phone first bc they’re usually an arms distance away from each other at all time like the love struck dorks they are

if they’re looking for leandro in between missions, they’ll go to akira’s apartment, bc after leandro and akira start getting along leandro gradually moves into akira’s apartment lmao

(leandro says he likes being at akira’s apartment bc it’s clean compared to his own (he hasnt seen the carpet in four months), but really it’s bc he feels safer around akira and enjoys his company. also, he’s obliviously pining.)

if leandro and akira dont have a domestic-roommate-oblivious-pining phase then idk what to say apart from that these reboots are Over

also euhgisgjsigs hardcore pining but...... despite the fact that leandro doesnt actually live there and has his own apartment, akira builds them a little shelf/hook thing area where they put all of their weapons and stuff

i love the thought of akira, this tough, scary looking guy biting his lip to conceal his smile as he carefully places his knives beside leandro’s pistols, and nearly passes out from giddiness every time he sees how leandro’s favourite scruffy trainers have been toed off and left tucked in beside akira’s own boots

akira’s apartment was pretty empty before hand. there wasn’t much decorating the apartment bc to him, it was just a room he was staying in for the time being.

when leandro unofficially “moves in”, akira starts to see little bits of leandro’s belongings scattered around his apartment, and akira doesnt realise how good it feels to see leandro acting as tho akira’s apartment is his own home

hmmmm i want so many throw backs to the OGs but instead it’s just shading them siugdhsdiugsg

leandro, exhausted from a battle and falling asleep on akira’s couch: ...ki...

akira, chuckling: what, did u forget my name?

leandro: ... i havent forgotten ur name...!!!

leandro, softly: ... dont think it’s possible to forget anything about u, akira...

akira, staring w wide eyes at leandro as he watches him drift off to sleep: i couldnt forget u either, leandro

the next morining

akira, in his friendly teasing voice: moring sleepy head

leandro: wh.. SLEEPYHEAD?! u’re the sleepy head here, i piggybacked ur ass home after ur impulsive fight w the galra last week!!!

akira: sure, but am i the guy who’s wearing spongebob pjs, has bad breath and bed head and is currently eating coco puff on my friend’s couch at 1 am

leandro: i nearly died yesterday

akira: then u should be resting, not 2 hours into a new skyrim save

tangent but.... i like the idea of them calling each other sleepyhead as the weakest, worst teasing-nickname possible

they pretend it’s mean but really they love calling the other sleepyhead bc they think the other is a really cute sleeper sdgjisigs

im too lazy to write out another one of these, but lmao i just love the idea of them unintentionally vagueing a different version of themselves. like

“what the fuck, when would i ever doubt ur shooting skills, leandro? i saw u shoot a gd wasp w a rubber band last week, these galras should be fucking terrified”

“woah... kiraaa! i didnt know u could draw so well....... heheh do u think u could draw me-” “No.”

after one battle, when leandro thought he was about to die only to be saved by akira, they drive home in silence. they’re accustomed to driving like this by now, akira steering his bike with leandro’s arms looped around his middle, watching the world whizz by in neon colours through his goggles. leandro blames the tremor rattling his body on the rumble of motorcycle, yet both he and akira are aware of what it really is

they’ve been teammates for a while now, caught up in the alien buisness for a little under two months, yet no one has come close to dying before. not by a galra like sendak. akira didnt kill him, but leandro was accutely aware of how desperate akira was when he was slicing at the galra, yelling for leandro to get to safety while blocking sendak’s attacks from hurting leandro any further.

akira is surprised when he feels leandro’s arms wind tighter around his middle, slumping himself over akira’s back, fingers curling in his shirt. leandro’s never touched him more than necessary when they’re riding like this, yet now, leandro is resting his forehead on his shoulder, face burried in the crook of akira’s neck w his curly hair whipping softly against his cheek in the wind

somehow, despite the quietness of leandro’s voice, he hears him over the whistle of wind and roar of the engine as he whispers: thank you, akira

akira doesnt reply. just twists the handle a little tighter, feels the air hit a little harder as he shortens their journey back to his apartment

they dont talk about it, because somehow, whatever happened today, both in battle and the strange development between them, already feels resolved

when leandro and akira wake up the next days, it’s to wide grins and friendly taunts over breakfast, and the unspoken, mutual feeling that the friendship they’ve just started was a little different to any other they’ve had before

#nat chat #this was such a fuckin mess oh my GOD #but i love them and i hope u love this too smoochies <333 #im planning on doing a blue lion and allura/alzina one after this btw #i want to them next but i have to spend a while thinking her over bc there isnt much content out there yet ://#want to do*#i cut some hcs out of this bc it was getting long but i'll probably but them in a pt 2 if ur interested lol #leakira #akandro #dot #vld reboot #klance #im not proof reading this either cause ive been writing this for an hour now isghsugiehs christ #long post//

162 notes · View notes

ambwimagines · 6 years

Text

Pocket Chocolate: Chapter 3, Please See me.

(Flashback)

Boy 1: You want your glasses back little weirdo ? huh ?

Boy 2: Or do you want this stupid little notebook ?

Minhyung: Hey give that back ! (reaching for his notebook)

Boy 1: And if I dont ? (Pushes him back on the ground)

Suddenly he looks and sees you out of his peripheral

Minhyung: Or I’ll tell everyone how you wet the bed at his slumber party last weekend.

Everyone: Oooooohhh!!!!

Boy 1: Shut up, mommy said I had too many glasses of milk

Everyone: *Still pointing and laughing at the boy*

Boy 1: Here take your stupid book ! you loser ! (runs off crying)

Mark gets off of the ground and dusts himself off and gets up jogging to meet you half way across the school yard.

Y/N: What?.... was that?

Minhyung: Power...(throws his arm around you as you both walk into the school)

*PRESENT DAY*

Walking into the doors of the facility. A bright sunny day. People scattered all across the lawn and inside the building of the University. Serving their purpose, fulfilling their duties one way or another. You walk through the doors hastily with no time to waste. You we're 30 minutes late for your first class and did not wanna make it 31. Your friends from Accounting 101 we're waiting by the door along with a group of other kids. You ran up to them with a puzzled look on your face. "What's going on ?" You asked the congregation of people. "Apparently ,Mr. Jung is not in today." One of your classmates spoke up calling for your attention. "Why ?" You ask walking over to him. He shrugs his shoulders and walks away. Your friends from the same foreigner exchange program and class Valerie and Erin came over to you.

Erin: Yeah we don't know we just got here and saw the note on the door.

Y/N: Well do you think he's okay ?, what if he got beat up on the way home or mugged or something ?

Erin: The man is 6'4 with a permanent scowl, I don't think anyone wants to mess with that.

Y/N: Yeah, you're right (laughs) but what about our assignment?

Erin: He's not here to give it to us sooo... Not our problem

Y/N: Okay you guys can maybe afford to miss assignments but I can, this is my sixth and final year, I have to write my thesis in less than 3 months, I don't have my FFB project done and-...

Valerie: Shhhh... do you want a repeat of last semester ?

Erin:Oh yeah they took you to the in-house mental institution

Valerie: It is called the Student mental retention center its for students who are stressed out and feel like they are on the edge of a mental break.

Erin: In house...nut house.

Y/N: Guys I get it ! okay I get it. I’m not trying to make a scene I just feel like I won’t succeed and I’m just wasting money

Erin: As dedicated as you are ? You have an A in his class right now.

Y/N: An -A Erin, I have an - A . People who come out of this program and get offers from corporate giants don’t get an -A.

Valerie: You need a break, I need a break, Erin needs a break. We all need a break. Maybe it’s a good thing Mr Jung is not here today. We all just need a little reset before the end of the semester.

Y/N: Maybe you’re right...maybe I do deserve a break

Erin: Yeah you know,...or some Valium

Y/N: Sorry Erin...(Sticks your tongue out at her)

Erin: (nonchalantly flips her off)

Y/N: You know it would be good, I can catch up with my friend, I haven’t seen him in a long while.

Valerie: Friend? Him? When did you see him?

Y/N: I saw him at the convenience store last night, Minhyung.

Valerie: Wait wait. Minhyung as in Lee Minhyung as in Mark Lee ?

Y/N: Yeah that’s him

Valerie: How come you didnt tell me Mark was your best friend ?

Y/N: I didnt know, we spent like 10 years away from each other. I know he always said he wanted to write but I didn’t think it meant he wanted to write songs for a group.

Valerie: Well you know you should have told me as soon as you found out.

Y/N: Everything isn't about you Val

Erin: I tell her that and she just hits me (blocks valeries incoming hand) See ?

(All laughing in unison)

Y/N: Guys let's go have fun today. Let's go make memories.

It was settled you guys decided to enjoy the rest of the day together. Seeing everything this great city you just when to college in had to offer. Hours of goofing off, eating and laughter had passed you by and you end up on the second floor of a store. In the home section. Looking at pillows for your dorm because you brought yours from home and they were getting worn out really fast.

Y/N: What about this black and white one that says vibes and it has fringe on it.

Erin: Nah, too conventional

Y/N: okay....what about this one ? Erin: Seriously are you even trying ?...(laughs) Y/N: It says botong ( 보통) Sleepy, which is usually sleepy, which is a giant mood.

Erin: Okay well you’re botong basic as fuck (laughs)

Y/N: Erin how did we even become friends ? Erin: You got me a C average in Mr. Jung’s class I had to repay you somehow (loudly sips her iced fruit tea)

Y/N: Ha-ha very funny (rolls her eyes) You know you actually like being around me

Erin: (pats you on the head) Yeah, keep telling yourself that kid. As Valerie snickered at the both of you this guy walked in staring at the three of you. None of you noticed him. But he noticed you guys though. He continued to stare hard as he pretended to scope out a couple of stools and coffee tables across the room. At one point you and the creep even made eye contact. You were staring at him staring right back at you and it didnt even bother him. You turn away shaking your head in disgust. You look up and see Mark walk in and you call out his real name to get his attention.

Y/N: Minhyung ! Mark: Hey Y/N hows it goin ? Y/N: It’s goin, Just lookin for some pillows. Oh these are my friends (gesturing towards the two girls) Erin and Valerie. Erin: (throws up peace sign) Sup (smiles) Valerie: Oh my god I know exactly who you are. I thought the only time I would ever get to see you would be in concert, if I was even that lucky. Mark: I take it you’re a huge fan of NCT Valerie: The biggest, I know all the songs and dance movies and for my birthday. I even got a comforter with the Pixel animation Taeyong teaser photo !!! Erin: All I got were a pack of black socks and some tin foil last year Y/N: (Holds back laughter) Mark: You have some very interesting friends Y/N: They kept me sane these past few years. Mark: I can imagine (snickers)

As you and Mark watch Erin and Valerie argue about Valerie getting her a crappy gift last year because she simply forgot. The strange man in the room went undetected and unnoticed. He got dangerously closer inching closer to your section of the room. Erin: We live together ! you said and I quote (Imitates Valeries voice) “ Hey guys if you want a gift from me just put your name under the date on this tiny pink magnetic calender I just bought, I promise I won’t forget.” Valerie: God Erin, I was busy! Erin: So busy you went to the store and got me socks and tin foil at one in the morning the day before. Valerie: In my defense I had no idea what to get you, you barely talk to anyone about the things you like. They kept on arguing and no one saw the man come on the same aisle as you four. Your back was turned to him and so was Mark’s. Erin was in mid-sentence naming off the things she liked to Valerie and that was when it happened. The man came up behind you and snatched you from the spot you were standing in. Hoisting you into the air about to take you away with him. But your friends quickly charged toward him. Grabbing the closest leg or arm of yours they could get their hand on. They pulled for their life against the abnormally strong perv. Mark grabbed the guys hands which were wrapped around your waist while you were still in the air. he pulled them apart effortlessly fumbling his grip with you. Dropping you on to Mark for him to catch you. Causing the man and your two friends to fall on the floor. Mark Gently pushes you aside walking towards the man slowly as he backs away further and further looking up at Mark. Mark grabs him yoking him up by his collar in the air and then slams him back down on to the ground. The man blunders back up to his feet and runs away.

Erin: Guys Security ! (Whisper-yelling) All four of you crouched down simultaneously behind a white shelf with vases and other decorative glassware. Crab walking and putting a finger over you guys mouths reminding the person next to you to be quiet. You all safely make your way to the other exit at the back of the store and leave. Mark walks you and your friends home walking a few steps behind you three making sure no one else tries to put their hands on you. You walked huddled between your friends in the middle of them. They both rest their heads on your shoulder. You’re holding your wrists and looking back at Mark every once in a while to make sure he’s still there. When he sees you he gives you a small reassurance smile turning up the corners of his mouth. You return a brief smile to him. You arrive at the steps of the dorms still holding hands with Erin and Valerie. They try to go ahead but you gently pull them by their hands which are in yours to get their attention.

Y/N: Guys I’m gonna talk to Minhyng for a bit is that okay ? Erin: Will you be okay ? Y/N? Erin asks with the concern seeping from her voice. Not to be dramatic but she real life almost lost you today. Only god knows what would have happened if Mark wasn’t there and your friends couldn’t fight him off or weren’t strong enough to pull you back at least. Y/N: I’ll be fine. Promise. Erin and Valerie step down a step and hug you again before the ascend the steps and go to the shared dorm. They were so worried, something told you they were gonna be this way from now on and truth be told. They had every reason to be. You step back down a step and come face to face with Mark. He turns to face north and you both walk the other way.

Mark: Are you okay Y/N ? Y/N: I’ll be fine I’m sure...won’t really trust any other guy except you from now on but, I can live with that. Mark: You know I’ll never let anything happen to you right ? Y/N: Obviously Minhyung, with what you did back there. You know it’s kinda like...it’s kinda like that day that Jack Whitaker was picking on you and you told the entire 3rd grade class he peed on himself at Tommy’s slumber party and he ran away crying (laughing as you talk) Mark: He should have never took my notebook. Y/N: (Laughs) But seriously it’s like you were an entirely different person that day and in the store. What was it ?... Mark: You want the answer ? Y/N:(turns her head to look at Mark and nods yes) Mark: You. Y/N: (Stops walking and looks at Mark wide-eyed) Mark: Yeah that day when I was getting picked on, I was feeling defeated. Then I looked up and I saw you. The day of our 5th grade graduation I was extremely nervous. Then I looked up and I saw you. When I see you I get braver. When I see you I get more strength to carry on and do what needs to be done. And when I wake up and put my feet on the floor. I grab my phone, I go to my pictures, and I look at you. Y/N: Minhyung....That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I’m speechless and I don’t know what to say. Minhyung... you’re amazing Mark: You’re ethereal Y/N: (Hugs him tight) Mark:( Hugs her tighter)

*LATER ON THAT NIGHT*

The boys were settling in to go to bed. They were washing up brushing their teeth, and putting on pajamas. Mark is just coming in the door feeling on top of the world. The load is lightened and he felt weightless. He felt like a feather. He closed the door behind him and exhaled with the utmost glee.

Doyoung: (coming out with a towel over his shoulder brushing his teeth) Last one in is the last one to the Showers. You have like 3 or 4 people in front of you. Taeyong is one of them and he likes to take long showers. Mark: Okay Doyoung,hyung Mark dances to his room sliding and moving his feet rhythmically. Today was a perfect day. Today was the day of all days. Unfortunate were the circumstances that brought it about but for him was an amazing day none the less. Johnny pops up out of nowhere leaning against the door post of his room.

Johnny: I haven’t seen you this happy since the first dance practice for our comeback. Mark: Ha-Ha very funny Johnny Johnny: What’s the occasion? Mark: (takes out his phone looking at a picture of you he made his lock-screen) I took the opportunity to let someone know where my strength truly comes from. Johnny: Oh...where? Mark: It’s a secret Johnny: Well you know a good magician never reveals his secrets Mark: (clicks his teeth and makes finger guns at Johnny) Johnny:( Does the same to mark)

Mark laid back in his bed and stared at the ceiling. It was something he didnt really do unless he was saddened by something. But in this case he was happy. He was ecstatic. But he came to a realization, to let someone know the power you have over them is a gift and a curse. Depending on what they do with the knowledge obtained. How they act, what they think of you, the decisions they make in light of you. It effects you. He silently says to himself while he closes his eyes his one wish, his one prayer. If god never gave him anything or did anything ever again....Just one thing. Just one Mark: I trust Y/N with my heart, please don’t let her break it.

Postscript: If it’s not too much trouble please shoot me a quick message or put a lil’ something in my inbox giving me your honest opinion on this chapter, the series so far or whatever as long as it Pertains to Pocket Chocolate only . I really want to know what I can do to make it a better series and a better reading experience for you all and I won’t know what you want unless you tell me. Some writers think they are above criticism and you should just accept whatever they put up. Not me. Let me know what you might want to be talked about in the next chapter perhaps, if anything, even my writing style. My spelling, my egregious use of slang or the Korean-Romanization of words or mis-use of Korean words. Whatever you feel just slightly keeps you from enjoying my writings the way you want to. Tell me and I’ll fix it, tweak it, whatever I need to do. As always I love you all so very much. Thank you for reading and supporting. -Kayla

#lee minhyung #mark lee #ambw fluff #kpop ambw #NCT #NCT 127 #love #happiness

20 notes · View notes

worldsandwonders · 5 years

Text

I glanced down at my phone, staggering down the dark, lonely street away from joes, and smiled. Noah. He was offering to pick me up, an offer of which I gratefully accepted and decided that it'd be best to find a dry spot to wait as the heavens opened. I stood in the start of an alley under a metal staircase to keep out of the rain, pulling Noah's scarf tighter round my neck, covering my ears and wishing I'd remembered a hat this morning.

The scarf I wore was the same one I always wore when it was cold out, grey and covered in these cute little owls and foxes pulling funny faces, which may be childish but at that time of year there were constant storms and it was freezing most of the time, and that was the warmest scarf my boyfriend owned

clouds swirled above the empty streets, they looked dark enough without a storm brewing above them. Most of the street lights around this part of town were either smashed or pretty much dead, providing little to no comfort in the dying light. With the little light they did give off, they only unveiled the piles of rubbish and empty beer bottles nestled at their base.

Neon lights from the strip club across the street were the only other source of light. They flickered every now and then, as the door opened and slammed to girls in red high heels and tiny dresses skipping out with drunken married men in tow, back to empty cars or back alleys, if I didn't know any better I'd say the girls were just happy for an excuse to do something even vaguely warm. I watched for a while, one of the girls I saw- I think she lived in the same building as me, helped me with my shopping once- looked barely over 16, petite with pale skin and short brown frizzy hair. I could've been certain she'd had a nice smile last time I saw her but this one looked wide, scared almost, too many teeth... Bile rose in my throat, I diverted my attention. That man looked about 70.

Rain splashed into the gutter in front of my feet, as I lazily traced patterns into the grime on the floor with my boot, watching the occasional car pass at the end of the road. Hoping every time that it was Noah coming to get me. I could've sworn by that point that my lips were blue, as I felt a drop of water from my drenched hair hit my face. I just needed to get home. Off of this damn street.

That's when a familiar car pulled up next to my little hiding spot, it wasn't big or expensive, a bit battered but it was warm and smelt like home somehow, and had the only thing I really cared about right now in it. I shuffled round to the other side and pulled on the stiff handle, my boyfriend throwing me a gentle smile and a blanket as I sank into the seat next to him.

"I brought you some clothes to get into" His eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Thanks" my voice trembled as I reached for the warm pair of black joggers and one of his many Queen t-shirts he brought for me.

It took a bit of shuffling but I was, eventually, in suitably warm clothes, wrapped up in a thick blanket that Noah brought from home. It was the one we usually curled up under when someone had a bad day and needed to be able to attempt to subtly cry into something whilst pretending that the other person couldn't see them. It had come in handy a few times since the attacks had started, for both me and Noah

"You look like a Pokémon" my boyfriend commented fondly as he started the engine,

"Swadloon?" I couldn't help but laugh a little at that, I guess I kinda did. Noah nodded, a grin spreading over his face

"Nerd"

"Says the guy with a degree in both chemistry and biology. But sure, IM the nerd here"

The rest of the drive home went by in mostly comfortable silence with him occasionally glancing nervously in my direction and asking if I was feeling okay. I would simply nod, staring out at the buildings we past, the raindrops on the window contorting the shops and houses.

When we pulled up outside the block of flats we live in, Noah was quick to get out and scurry round to my side of the car. Opening the door he picked me up bridal style, despite all of my protests, announcing that we would come back for my clothes left in the car tomorrow morning and carried me inside.

The building was old, with creaky floorboards that you had to avoid to make sure you didn't wake up that crazy drunk guy next door, and there was always atleast one grumpy looking cat sat waiting on a chair sat by the front door. That damn chair must've been dumped there at some point, though I couldn't for the life of me tell you when, and was left so long that the cats claimed it as their own. Tonight it was an old tabby cat with patches of grey fur and half an ear missing. It was of my assumption that we had both a drunk guy and a crazy cat lady living in our building, because fuck knows where all of those damn cats come from if not.

After the treck up four flights of stairs (the elevators been out of order for ages, I'm pretty sure some teenagers did something to it, though I can't prove anything) we arrive outside our door. Reaching out I grabbed the keys, of which Noah had stuffed in his back pocket in favour of carrying me, and turned to unlock the door.

He only let me down once we were safely inside the flat, with the lights on and with me on the bed. I watched intently as he changed his clothes and wandered over to me, clambering under the covers. Shifting my position, I layed my head on his chest and looked up at him. He grabbed his book off of the nightstand and busied himself with that, as I admired the way his lip curled up slightly, and his adorable freckles, scattered across his his cheeks and how his intelligent, gentle, dark eyes reflected the light on the bedside table. How his brow creased slightly when he focused, and his head tilted slightly.

I hadn't realised I had been staring, but apparently he had, as he smiled down at me, one eyebrow raised. I felt heat creeping up my neck, despite us having been together for so long now, I never got over the embarrassment of being caught admiring him.

"You should get some rest babe, I don't want you getting ill" he trailed his fingers in patterns on my lower back, just underneath my shirt. Placing his book on the side, he ran his hand through my still damp hair and pulled me closer. I wanted to argue and tell him I wasn't tired, but I felt my eyelids start to droop, before I could even get my words out, and relaxed against him. Maybe I did need some rest....

I awoke to the smell of waffles wafting in from the kitchen, the corners of my mouth twitching up into a smile, waffles were a privilege we didn't often get now, it was mostly toast and rice. As I moved, I became very aware of the way my limbs ached, my head throbbing, and my throat burning. Shit.

"Babe" I called for Noah, my voice coming out as an awful croak. I pulled my legs up to my chest, already too warm, as I heard him come shuffling into the room, bringing the smell of waffles with him. Managing to open my eyes, I looked up at him placing the plate of waffles onto my bedside table, his other hand was occupied with a cold rag, kinda like he had predicted this.

"Urgh, how is it even possible to even get ill this fast" Noah simply smiled and pecked my pouting lips gently, pressing the cold cloth to my forehead.

He fussed around me for another hour, taking my temperature 4 times for accuracy (despite my protests) and made stupid jokes about taking my temperature from "other places" which I politely ignored. Whilst my boyfriend went through every possible illness I could have and then requested that he be allowed to have a bit of blood to look at through a microscope (which I, again, protested against, joke or not). Coming to the conclusion that I had the flu and that I wasn't going to die, he shuffled off to the kitchen, leaving me alone in our shared, and slightly messy, bedroom. It had been a while since I had resigned myself to domestic life, something I would've scoffed at a few years ago. The flat was filled with pictures of us, all of his favourite science books neatly stacked on a shelf in the corner, blankets piled up by my side of the bed, an overflowing washing basket that could be "sorted later" next to my record and comic book collections piled high; they were most likely going to topple and make a mess at some point.

At the time, me and Noah had been discussing getting a dog, for purposes of completing our tiny happy family, however we never seemed to get around to it.

He entered the room again about a half hour later, all dressed up to go to work, and plonked down on the bed. His face was carved with lines that made him look like a completly different person and he was refusing to look me in the eyes. I knew what that meant. Someone else was either missing or dead.

"Who was it this time?" His raised his eyes wearily, twiddling his thumbs "Noah, come one"

"The girl from next door, the young one" I felt bile rise in my throat. The one I'd seen last night. I should've said something, I knew she was young why didn't I say something. Guilt swirled in my stomach and it must've showed on my face as Noah raised an eyebrow at me, "you saw something." It wasn't a question.

"I saw her coming out of that club across the street from Joe's, with some rich old white guy, looked like 70" I turned my head away and sank down in bed, "Jesus. This is so fucked up." Noah just nodded.

"They found her body down that alley by Joe's under a pile of rubbish, I tried figuring out what was going on but everyone's telling a different story, some say she had her guts ripped out, some said she was shot... I dont- I honestly.... Fuck."

I shifted forward in bed and wrapped my arms around him. We may not have known her very well but she was young and kind, and that was enough. The list of bodies and missing persons was getting longer and longer every fucking week but nobody thinks there's a pattern, nobody has noticed a pattern, and it was getting closer to our front door too, 3 people from our building, dead or missing.

"Maybe we both need a day off today" Noah let out a breathy laugh and leaned into my arms

"I fucking wish".

I spent the rest of the day dozing, waiting for Noah to come home and thinking about how long it had been since I'd seen my friends. At 2:30 I ventured to the kitchen in barefoot (Noah wouldn't have approved) to make Mac n cheese (you know the really crappy stuff out of a can?). Our kitchen was filled with pots and pans we never actually used, Noah couldn't cook and I was a lazy bitch so we never really bothered, but as more and more people went missing or died, the more jumpy Noah got around people. Anxious and paranoid, he'd decided that we would just have to figure cooking out, cause anyone could be a threat. There was no blaming him for his fear though, as far as the public was aware, there were no suspects, no evidence, no witnesses. Whoever the fucker was, they knew what they were doing.

Being home alone had started becoming increasingly scary, so I checked locks, behind doors, in cupboards, under the bed. Like when I checked for monsters when I was little. Except this time the monster was real.

Around 6:00 Noah got home, his face slightly pale and with bags under his tired eyes. I opened my arms for a hug, which he gladly accepted, basically melting as he sagged.

"I am so glad this week is over" he shifted, pulling me towards the sofa, groaning as his bones cracked "two days of worrying about things that aren't science, before it's back at it again"

I smiled sadly, slumping into the sofa with him. My entire body was still aching like hell and my throat felt like someone had taken a flame thrower to it, but I could cope(kind of).

Our sofa was comfy and soft, covered in blankets at my own request, ready for that kind of situation( and also ready for the colder seasons as the heating had stopped working ages ago but the guy we hired to have a look never turned up). Also a billion different scented candles for as many different situations and moods as I could think of. There was a small TV that we never used perched on a stand in the corner (we were considering selling it)and the rest was essentially books that we'd collected since we moved here. Noah always said we should move somewhere nicer. But that place felt like home. Maybe that's why we stayed as long as we did.

I demanded that Noah go get changed so that we could cuddle, and despite all of his protests of "no, I'm too tired", he did. Coming back 2 minutes later in a pair of shorts and a pink Floyd t-shirt, and slumped into my arms as I pulled 3 or 4 blankets over him. His head found my lap, as I crossed my legs underneath me, holding his hand and petting his hair. Clinging to both me and the blankets he started to sob, heaving and crying into blankets, and my chest ached. I wished there was something I could do. I wished I could help him.

#writers #writing #writers on tumblr

1 note · View note

virmillion · 6 years

Text

Waves

alternatively, i dont know how to title this but hey @leesacrakon remember that nerd anon who said they wanted to write stuff after reading your story? i was the nerd oops // i dont love this one ive definitely done better and had a different angle at first but i think it turned out ok // its kind of angsty? definitely more so at the end just fyi

Words: 4.2k

Song: Waves by Dean Lewis

Pairings: platonic moxiety, morality (it might be romantic? idk i dont know how to write romance)

Warnings: smoking, let me know if there’s more

There is a swelling storm And I’m caught up in the middle of it all And it takes control Of the person that I thought I was The boy I used to know

The moon rises proudly in the sky, shining against the dark night and illuminating a pair of brown eyes. Patton grips the edge of his windowsill, gritting his teeth sharply as the sound of a pen pressed too hard pounds through his ears. Logan, scribbling away with his research. Again. What he wouldn’t give for Virgil’s headphones right now. Rather than mourn the loss of peace in his room, Patton slips across the hall to Logan’s room, knocking softly on the door.

“Enter,” Logan calls back, his writing not pausing for one second. The handle, cool to the touch, turns easily as the door swings open in silence, as if Logan oils it every day to avoid creaking. Frankly, Patton wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. The room beyond is jarring in its contrasts—a perfectly made bed beside a fully stocked wardrobe, out of which no rumpled clothes are hanging. Against this pristine organization is a scene of utter chaos, crushed papers strewn across the floor between dozens of pencils split down the middle, twins to the dismantled pens with their ink sprayed everywhere. Wading through the sea of trash, Patton arrives at the black desk chair in the corner, above which a tuft of purple hair peeks out. Scattered around the desk are more crumpled papers and broken pens, along with several burn marks on the wooden desk, as well as more than a few cigarette butts.

“I thought we talked about this,” Patton murmurs, picking one up and rubbing it between his fingers. Logan doesn’t seem to hear, one hand buried in his hair while the other is poised with a black pen over a piece of paper, which is covered in scratched-out words. Ink stains his skin everywhere, and creates splotchy patterns on the desk where it bled through the papers, intermingling with the burn marks. Some even reached his tie, staining the blue irreparably. With a nudge, Patton tries again for Logan’s attention.

Logan mutters a string of curse words before slamming the pen down on his desk, balling up the paper and chucking it across the room. More ink gets on his hands, and as he turns around to face Patton, his face turns out to have even more from running a hand over it in distress. “What? What is it? I’m busy.”

“Whatcha workin’ on?” Patton scrapes a few of the cigarette remnants into a garbage can, then sets about fixing up the rest of the room’s mess.

“Thomas has this big presentation in a week, and no idea how to do it,” Logan sighs, watching Patton putter about like a Roomba. “Virgil’s in overdrive, detailing every last thing that can go wrong, and Roman’s absolutely no help at all. He won’t stop insisting that I add some sort of dramatic flair, to make it seem more impressive.” Logan rubs his temples gently, smudging more ink across his face.

“Well, what’s it on?” Patton conjures up a paper towel to pick up all the pens, a practical foresight to avoid being covered in ink.

“Nothing you’d understand,” Logan says. He turns back to his work, pulling a fresh sheet of paper from a stack on the floor. Conversation over, apparently. The angle he grabs the paper at is too sharp, ripping it down the middle as it comes free of the pages above it. An infuriated Logan tears the remainder to shreds, feeding his anger even more. As the bits rain down like confetti, he snaps his head back to Patton, who’s still cleaning up after his research problems. “What are you still doing in here? Get out!” Quite unaccustomed to ever hearing Logan raise his voice unless a falsehood was uttered, Patton freezes, splintered pen in hand. “Are you waiting for a formal letter? I said get out!” Patton scurries out the door, tugging it shut behind him. He couldn’t have moved any faster if you had told him there was a puppy on the other side. The sound of viciously scrawling pens resumes in full force, even angrier.

Back in his own room, chased by the sounds of Logan’s furious writing, Patton sits on the edge of his bed with a box. A box of old memories, a box of what used to be, a box of before. He rifles through pictures, trinkets, collectible nothings that should have been thrown away years ago, before he grew an attachment to them. When he calls them memories, he isn’t kidding—each individual object is reminiscent of the moment it came from, cherished times for Patton to look back on and smile. A star sticker from when Logan helped Thomas get his first perfect score on a test. The certificate from when Thomas bought and named a star on Logan’s behalf. A conch shell from when Logan argued with Patton over whether the roaring was the ocean calling, or just the blood roaring in his ears. What happened to the Logan that argued in good fun, instead of yelling at Patton? This Logan, the angry one, he has no place in this box. Not until Patton adds in the cigarette butt, cementing the time that Logan yelled at Patton. Actually yelled, not just pretending for fun. A cold shiver, like icy fingers, skitters across Patton’s skin as the memory gets locked down in the box, and locked down in his mind. He can’t say he likes the bad times, but bad times are better than no times at all. Usually.

But there, is a light In the dark, and I feel its warmth In my hands, and my heart Why can’t I hold on?

A week comes and goes, Thomas survives his presentation, Virgil takes a much-needed break, and Logan cleans his room up. Everything should be fine now. Everything should be solved, just a little bump in the road. Nothing Patton can’t handle. Nothing at all. Not entirely nothing, but mostly. Just one thing. One little something that he can’t ignore. Those burn marks on Logan’s tie, the tie he refuses to change or replace, emitting a heavy smell of smoke that grows stronger by the day.

“Again?” Patton asks, grabbing Logan by the wrist after recording a long video. He plucks the small white cylinder from between Logan’s fingers before it can be hidden away. “I am bently jegging you, Logan, please drop this habit before it starts hurting Thomas.”

“Bently jegging?” Logan remarks, avoiding the question.

“Gently begging, same difference,” Patton says with a wave of his hand. “Just, can you try? For me?” Logan gnaws on the corner of his lip, considering for a moment. One look in Patton’s eyes, and he’s pretty much sold.

“I’ll try,” he relents, relaxing into a slouch. “I suppose it isn’t the best habit to indulge in. For Thomas’ sake.” The cigarette is passed between hands, after which Patton promptly tosses it in the garbage. Sure, he knows Logan has more, and can always conjure extras, but it’s a step forward.

“Maybe a hug?” Patton asks, opening his arms. Logan curls his lip slightly before embracing Patton loosely. The same can’t be said of the latter, who squeezes his arms together like a boa constrictor. Through the thick sweater, Patton feels something flicker, a little bit of warmth melting Logan’s cold shell. Progress.

They only break apart as Virgil passes, giving a weird look at the logical side willingly hugging someone. Logan pushes Patton away quickly, straightening his shirt and mumbling something about getting back to work. Patton gives a soft smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, where the hurt resides. With a matching smile at Virgil, Patton returns to his room.

Hours later, Patton will sneak out of his room to peek into Logan’s, to which the door is left open. He will peer inside at the clean space and feel relief, but only for a second. He will look closer and see the tiny plume of smoke over the desk and gasp. Logan will hear, and snap a finger to close the door in Patton’s face. Logan will not turn around to watch. Patton will sit in his room with a single light on, and he will wonder what happened to the nice, curious kid from when they were younger. And Patton will be alone.

It comes and goes in waves It always does, it always does We watch as our young hearts fade Into the flood, into the flood

The clinking of glass is what wakes Patton a few nights later. He hasn’t asked about the smoking, and Logan hasn’t offered anything. Maybe a good sign, since he at least isn’t doing it so openly now, but Patton isn’t so sure. At least a little suspicious, he eases open his door to glance across the hall—lights out in Logan’s room. The other two doors are dark as well, not unusual at—a check of the watch—three in the morning. Patton leaves the lights off and heads for the kitchen by the light of his phone screen, feet padding softly on the carpeted floor. The only bright spot in the house is the bare lightbulbs in the kitchen, made ever brighter as they bounce off of the coffee mugs on the table. Behind those mugs are Logan, Roman, and Virgil, all of whom look like little kids that got caught swiping candy before dinner.

“Are you kidding me?” Patton asks, his voice cracking.

“Hey, it’s not what it looks like,” Roman says. “We were just talking, and—”

“And what?” Patton whispers. “And you didn’t want me here to talk?” He tosses this out like a joke, as if there’s no way that could be the case, but his eyes fill with horror when none of the other three meet his imploring gaze. “Seriously?”

Logan opens his mouth, certainly about to offer some excuse or another, something completely empty and intended to mollify, not soothe, but Patton isn’t having any of it. He turns on his heel and walks out, leaving silence behind him as the door to his room slams shut. The sound of his memory box crashing to the ground is echoed by the soft noises of clinking coffee mugs down the hall.

In the dark of his room, Patton smiles to himself. At least they’re bonding, right? Even if it’s not with you, they’re having fun, and that’s the important part. He wipes his cheek, and his fingers come away wet. Funny, he didn’t remember turning on a humidifier.

That night, Patton does not dream.

The next morning, Roman does not apologize.

The next day, Virgil does not look at him.

The next week, Logan does not care.

Patton corners the logical side one morning, cutting him off before he can escape to his room for research or something.

“I just want you to explain one thing,” Patton pleads. “Why are you cutting me off?”

Logan is quiet for a moment, cleaning his glasses off on his shirt. “It’s not that I want to,” he sighs, pressing his glasses up his nose. “Thomas is just growing up, and we need to grow with him. I’ve moved past the whole childish thing, and it’s high time you do as well.” Leaving Patton stunned, Logan slips away to his room, locking the door behind him.

He never used to lock the door.

The freedom, of falling A feeling I thought was set in stone It slips through, my fingers I’m trying hard to let go It comes and goes in waves

It would be so easy to stop caring.

It would be so easy to let Logan’s friendship slip away.

It would be so easy to stop trying to hold everything together.

But that’s not what Patton is about.

Instead, Patton sticks to Logan’s side like glue, there for every possible memory he could make. Despite all of Logan’s protests, Patton can feel him wearing down, can feel at Logan’s core that the childlike curiosity that once blossomed in Thomas is still there somewhere, still fighting to reach the surface. That’s the Logan Patton remembers, and that’s the Logan Patton intends to bring out. Not this new one, acting as if nothing is important and he doesn’t have feelings. Patton was there for the late night talks, and he knows how Logan really feels about emotions, how the logical side actually gets hurt when people think of him as cold and unfeeling. Shutting down is the worst plan, but evidently it’s the one Logan is going with. Giving up on Logan is the second worst plan, and you can bet your bottom dollar that Patton will not go that direction if he can help it. Of course, that always leaves the lingering fear that he won’t be able to help it, and Logan will outgrow him without a second thought.

It comes and goes in waves And carries us away Through the wind Down to the place we used to lay when we were kids

“Come on, I wanna show you something,” Patton insists, tugging on Logan’s arm. Fast enough to make his tie flutter, the moral side pulls his friend into his room, not waiting for the door to close.

“What is it? I have very—” Logan begins, immediately cut off by Patton.

“Very important research, I know, I know.” Patton waves his free hand, sitting on the edge of his bed and leaning down to grab something from underneath it. As Logan carefully arranges himself for optimal comfort, Patton sits back up, memory box in hand. “I just really want you to see this.” He plucks out a yellow flower petal, smiling at Logan’s comments about attracting bugs and interrupting the flow of nature and all that stuff Patton doesn’t need to know but loves to hear. “I’ve never tried this before, but I took some liberties from Roman’s room, so just hold the petal and shut your eyes.” A bit dubious, Logan complies, nearly brushing Patton’s finger on the tiny petal.

When the pair open their eyes, they’re back in a big green meadow, dotted with daisies and sprawling under a softly clouded blue sky. “How did you—” Logan starts, running a hand over the grass.

“Like I said, liberties from Roman,” Patton replies. “Not as good, since I’m not exactly the creative one, so everything is gonna feel a little artificial. Still, do you remember it?” Logan glances around the memory carefully, taking in all of the fake sights.

“Yeah, I think I lectured you on cloud types while you just pointed out what shapes they looked like,” Logan says. “Why did you need to show me this?”

“Thomas was only twelve when we were here. Don’t you remember how fun it was, to sit and talk and share our thoughts without all the stress of being an adult with responsibilities?”

“Hm.” Logan shrugs noncommittally, rubbing the flower petal between his fingers.

“I just miss when we had fun. We didn’t have pressure or isolate ourselves in our rooms or yell at our friends instead of asking for their help.” Patton looks down at the same petal, the petal touching a hand connected to an arm attached to a shoulder growing off of Logan. “Can’t we go back to that?”

Logan looks up at Patton, something blossoming in his eyes. It fills Patton with hope, maybe they can really go back, maybe they don’t have to grow apart, maybe Patton doesn’t have to be alone anymore, but Logan speaks and the hope shatters. “No. We can’t.” He releases the petal, disappearing from the memory and leaving Patton by himself. The racing grass blades and vibrant flowers and dashing clouds seem more like taunts at what Patton once had than the peace they used to represent. He drops the flower petal on the fake dirt, opening his eyes back up to his room, Logan gone and the petal on the bed. It goes in the trash.

Memories, of a stolen place Caught in the silence An echo lost in space It comes and goes in waves

Patton only goes back to the flower field once, but the grass is all overgrown, interspersed with weeds, the flower petals all blown away with forceful wind gusts. Even the clouds are no longer a puffy white, instead turning into an overcast grey sky, angry and heavy. One of his happiest memories, with Logan of all people, and it’s been snatched away from him. This time, Patton throws the flower in the sink’s garbage disposal before heading to the far end of the bedroom hall that he normally leaves alone.

“Hey kiddo,” he calls with a knock on the door. The light is out on the other side, but the music playing is loud enough that the room shouldn’t be empty. The door creaks open a bit, enough for Patton to slip inside, pulling the door quietly shut behind him.

“Hey,” Virgil says from the floor beside his bed, headphones on and loud. His legs are bent at the knee, calves and feet resting on the mattress.

“What’re you doing on the floor?” As Virgil mutters something about falling off and being lazy and comfortable, Patton plops down on his rear to join him.

“Why are you in here?” Virgil asks. “You never really hang out in my room anymore. You’ve always been busy with Logan lately.”

“You’re not wrong,” Patton sighs. “But he’s kind of the problem, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m not the feelings department of this mindscape.”

“I know, and that’s not why I’m here. I just didn’t want to be alone.” The pair sits in silence, the only sound in the room coming from the heavy bass in Virgil’s headphones that he’s pulled down from his ears to his neck.

“I get it. I’m here for you.” Virgil’s hand trails along the carpet, finding and linking with Patton’s. He squeezes back, staring at the ceiling and enjoying the escape. His other hand finds a scrap of paper on the ground, stashing it in his pocket for the memory box. Patton shuts his eyes, thankful for the chance to let his mind wander, and not worry about what’s happening outside of the room.

I watched my wild youth Disappear in front of my eyes Moments of magic and wonder It seems so hard to find

When Patton later returns to his room to put the paper scrap in his box, it’s substantially lighter than it used to be. Peering inside, he finds several trinkets slowly vanishing before his eyes, just becoming less opaque until they aren’t there at all. As Patton rifles through the box in horror, he compartmentalizes each memory in his head—all of Virgil’s are still there, along with the new one, all of Roman’s are still there, and only Logan’s are going. Not even all of his, just the old ones, from when they could enjoy each other’s company without the strain of Thomas having an adult life looming over them. All the happy times of the pair in their youth, disappearing into the wind. He runs a hand across some of the keepsakes as they fade, recalling them with a weak smile. A pop bottle lid from the time they pulled an all-nighter simply because they could, going on a wiki walk to learn a bunch of nonsense about bees and flowers. A small books from when they decided they would take up bullet journaling, then promptly abandoned it for more exciting pastimes. The SD card from when Logan wanted to learn computer programming. So many good things, just dissipating to make space for new ones. The crumb that caught in his sock when he saw his three closest friends talking without him. A shard of a splintered pen from when Logan had to prepare for that presentation. A cigarette butt from when Patton caught him again.

Patton swivels in place, stretching for his mini trash can, and holds the box over it, ready to dump all of the contents and forget about them forever. Something stops him. Maybe a spark of hope that it can still work, maybe an inner recognition of the fact that he’ll regret it later in a moment of self-pity.

The box is returned to its place on a high shelf, and Patton falls back on his bed. That little voice that doesn’t want him to give up? It’s fading with the memories.

Is it ever coming back again? Is it ever coming back again? Take me back to the feeling when Everything was left to find It comes and goes in waves

“You’re being unreasonable!”

“And you’re being unsympathetic!”

“I’m being rational and giving Thomas the explanations and solutions he needs!”

“Well I’m the one considering how all of your plans are making him feel! Did you ever wonder if all of these schedules and decisions are overwhelming him? Have you even looked at Virgil lately?”

“Does it look like I have the time to check in on our resident whistleblower?”

“How. Dare. You.”

“Okay, wait, that wasn’t—”

“How dare you? You know how Roman’s jabs affect him, and now you’re adding your own in? Insult to injury, is that it?”

“It isn’t my fault he’s always overreacting to everything!”

“And it isn’t my fault that you’re being an inconsiderate jerk, yet here we are, me trying to fix your problems so this whole family doesn’t fall apart!”

A slamming door.

Angry footsteps.

Loud pen scribbling.

Cursing.

Patton turns and heads for Roman’s door, knocking a few times to get the fanciful side out of whatever fantasy his room might have concocted at the moment. Roman pulls the door open after a few seconds, only a few stray hairs out of place. He pulls them back up on top of his head and steps back, allowing Patton to come in.

“What can I help you with?” Roman asks, straightening his red sash.

“I need a memory.”

“Didn’t I teach you how to keep those? The whole keepsake thing?”

“You did, but that’s not it. The trinkets, well, not important. I need you to bring up a specific memory, and I don’t have a thing to commemorate it.”

“Alright, no problem. Just think of the memory, and I’ll be over here in the corner by myself, not intruding on your memory at all.” A blatant lie, but Patton doesn’t care if Roman sees this. He’d prefer it, actually, so he won’t be alone in remembering.

“Can you do it in the removed sense?” Patton asks. Roman flashes a thumbs up, and Patton closes his eyes, not wanting to ruin for himself the magic behind how Roman works. When he opens his eyes, he’s in Logan’s room, looking down at himself and Logan on the floor, leaning against the bed.

“You can tell me, it’s okay,” Patton says, taking Logan’s hand. He flinches, but doesn’t let go.

“It’s just the robot thing. I don’t get it. I don’t get you. Why do your feelings rule over everything?”

“That’s just what I came to represent, you know? I’m Morality, so I’m his sense of right and wrong, too. I’m more than just emotions, and you’re more than just an unfeeling robot.”

“How can you know that?” Logan sniffles, wiping a hand under his nose before it can start dripping.

“Because I know you. You’re important to me, and I know that on the inside, you care about all of us, and about Thomas. Even if you mock us for wearing our hearts on our sleeves, there’s still a part of you that wants to join in. If that ever happens, I swear that I’ll support you.”

Logan turns his head to look at Patton, an earnest look in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“No, really. Thank you.”

“Roman, I think I’d like to leave now, please.” Patton shuts his eyes, waiting until he’s absolutely certain the memory has vanished.

“You okay?” Roman asks, taking a step toward Patton.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, tearing out the door for his own room. He doesn’t stop to explain to Roman why he needed that memory, or why he left. Patton doesn’t want to tell Roman that the old Logan is gone. He’s not coming back.

I’m trying hard to let go It comes and goes in waves It comes and goes in waves And carries us away

Patton stands before the fireplace in the commons that night, watching the flames lick the iron frame. His memory box is in his hands, still emptying itself of the happy things. It’s easily late enough for everyone else to be asleep, or at least hanging out without Patton somewhere. He doesn’t really care.

Patton upends the box over the fire, its contents spilling out and curling in on themselves, melting and mixing and falling apart, their particles drifting up with the flames to the fake chimney and through the room, scattering across the commons for anyone to happen upon, an old memory that might make them smile.

The box emptied, Patton lets the heat warm his face, soaking in the past one last time, before it’s out of his reach.

Then he tosses in the box.

Tag list:

@sakurahayasaki @erlenmeyertrash @lemonpepperpizza @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @milomeepit

#sanders sides #labhwrites #mine #virgil #roman #logan #patton #waves #cigarette tw #smoking tw #songfic #hopefully this is alright? i wasnt planning on the whole memory box thing but i thought of it and put it in and kind of liked it #i definitely also have at least nine other songs i want to do fics with #and this one was nowhere near as angsty as i wanted it to be #but thats ok i guess its still pretty alright #what was missing and taxi cab were definitely better tho in my opinion #also i love this song seriously its so good please listen to it #i cut out some lyrics bc i figured no one cared to see the same verse four times #waves by dean lewis #anyway heres a story i guess #also [at]leesacrakon i loved yours let me say seriously 12/10 #sorry if this isnt too stellar #if you dont want me to tag you in the next ones let me know and i wont #yike okey doke here we go squad

107 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

party chapter twelve - shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - here’s another pathetic apology. it’s been over a month. i am a mess and a ball of stress, and i’m very sorry. i hope you like this<3

btw, a man is mentioned in this. this man is not intended to be chad. i know who chad is. this is not chad. thank u

When Alaska woke up, the bed was empty. She could’ve lain there forever – would have if she hadn’t been alone – but her outstretched arms were grasping at nothing but cold pillows, and she wanted to be grasping at a warm body. She knew she’d fallen asleep encompassed in a warm body, one that was composed of familiar geometric shapes and sharp angles, but that body was gone now. Alaska blinked a few times and sat up, feeling groggy. She could hear voices. One sounded clear and high and female, the other low and rough and male. Part of her wanted to listen, but the other part begged her to lie back once more.

So she did, sinking back down into the pillow and closing her eyes as she listened to the voices grow louder and closer in proximity. The voices should have been instantly recognisable to her; she’d heard those two exact voices arguing and laughing many mornings when they were on tour, but fatigue made her mind foggy. All she could think about was the previous night.

Sharon had said that Alaska ‘didn’t deserve the bad publicity’ that was synonymous with her name. She’d said a lot of things, but that one stuck in her mind. It wasn’t like Alaska didn’t get bad publicity anyway, but she understood where Sharon was coming from. It was only recently that Alaska’s general public view had shifted from liked and loved to loved or hated, whereas Sharon had been a figure of strong controversy and adoration since her win, way back when. It must have been exhausting for her.

Almost absent-mindedly, Alaska reached for her phone to break the cardinal rule of reality TV superstardom. She was guilty of it, almost everyone she knew was guilty of it at some point, and even though it brought nothing but strife it was still an unshakeable urge. To know, to read, to acknowledge.

Anonymous: i know right… she used to be really sweet but then she let all the “fan favourite” fame get to her head and she’s a total snake now. I never understood why everyone loved her anyway, she was so fake on her season. And on as2 she clearly just wanted to keep detox and Roxxxy in the competition, and then she had a meltdown because she was about to be treated the way she treated everyone else. So then what does she do when everyone’s commenting snakes about her and her relevance is crashing down (because who cares about her when you could care about Katya)? She pulls out her last trick and does a show with sharon needles. Sad, really. Sad how she pretends they’re still super good friends and uses her to boost her fame and ego when she needs it. Besides the fact that sharon is a complete dick (look on reddit) it’s obvious that alaska only performs with her because it makes people excited and sharon seems to really like her… gross. Dont use another queen for your own good. Anyone else agree?

197 likes. 445 comments. 3 shares.

Honestly, that was mostly standard. Tons of people thought she was a snake for caring about her friends, and viciously defended Katya – the same Katya who would call her at midnight, giggling because a fly had landed on her baby hands and she’d managed to capture a few seconds of it on snapchat. Those were the deluded kind, and their words about being a snake or undeserving were ones she’d grown used to, and unaffected by.

Even so, the comment riled her up. She hated when fans assumed things about her life that they wouldn’t know. For one, she was friends with Katya. Secondly, how dare they assume she was just using Sharon? How dare they claim disgusting falsehoods from behind their keyboards, hidden warriors declaring that Alaska was using Sharon for her own benefit? They didn’t know that Alaska’s heart had been beating differently since they’d kissed, and how would they? They didn’t know Alaska had been falling hard for the past few months, and Sharon had fallen too, and how would they? They didn’t know that the overdose had shattered a gaping hole in her heart that bled with the worry that it would be too late for their love to survive, and how would they? How could they assume something so blatantly wrong? They knew nothing. Nothing at all.

“-irresponsible. But you already know, so I won’t keep going on. Morning, Lasky.”

Alaska sat up, forcing a smile onto her face to counteract the inevitable anger that came from reading comments about herself and the people she cared about. Michelle looked beautiful as always, her face creased with motherly concern, and Sharon’s pyjama top was undone all the way down, Alaska’s eyes instantly drawn to the sliver of exposed chest.

“I’m being lectured again about being irresponsible and taking drugs. It was an accident! But whatever.” Sharon informed her, and resumed her argument with Michelle.

The woman in question frowned. “How do you accidentally do drugs? You don’t just fall face-first into a pile of powders, Sharon.”

Sharon snorted. “No, you fall purse-first. I didn’t mean that it was an accident that I did coke. That was very much intentional.”

Even through the years of her sobriety, Alaska knew exactly what Sharon meant. It was never an accident. After so long, she still hadn’t forgotten. She never would. Memories like that just didn’t go away. It was seared into her mind forever, the way that the club lights would get brighter and the pounding of the music in her chest would spread to her head, her arms and fingertips, all through her body until she felt nothing and everything at the same time. The way she felt numb yet hyper-sensitive, seeing everything in vivid technicolour that made her ache in a painful but good way.

“She means how much she took.” Alaska said quietly. The memories flashing through her mind were scattered, frayed at the edges and missing chunks, and it made her feel sick. “It’s so stupidly easy to overdose, Michelle. You have no idea.”

Immediately, Sharon’s gaze lowered to her feet. The older queen knew exactly what Alaska was remembering, knew she was reflecting on their old club days.

“You just… you have a little and it’s fun, it feels good, it lowers your inhibitions, and then it wears off after like ten minutes. Ten minutes, that’s it. So you go get more, because you can’t feel it anymore and you want to feel it again. And then you keep doing it, because it lasts a little longer each time and you lose a little more sense every time but it still wears off. You forget that it builds up in your system and… and…”

Alaska couldn’t finish. The image of Sharon, with her dilated pupils and her quivering hands, leaning over the mattress to vomit on the carpet before falling back onto the bed, it was far too raw. Far too real. No matter what happened, no matter how she recovered or how many jokes would be made about it, that moment would never leave her. It had chilled her to the bone.

“You take too much. You overdose. You nearly die and ruin the tour and Christmas and any chance you had at redeeming your fucked-up reputation.” Sharon finished bitterly. “You worry your friends, you worry your mom, you worry anyone who bothered to care for you. It’s so easy, Michelle. It shouldn’t be, but it is.”

Michelle’s brow creased further, warmth and concern evident in her eyes. “Thank god you’re okay now. Why did you in the first place? I know you’re… partial to your illegal substances.”

Sharon bit her plumped lip and fidgeted. “Well, there is the fact that I like it, but… I don’t know. Is there ever a reason? I wanted to go out and party after stressing about the tour and arguments and all of that, and I happen to be a Ru Girl. People will give you anything when you’re a Ru Girl. Of course I said no the way a drag queen does, which sounds like ‘Sure!’ and the rest is drag. History. Her-story. Whatever. I’m alive, at least.”

Her attempt at lightening the mood, tossing in a few jokes to elicit a laugh, didn’t really work. Alaska smiled weakly, mainly out of tact, her emotions mirrored in Michelle’s face. The older woman looked as if she might tear up and hug the life out of Sharon in an instant.

“Right. Is the next rehab session soon?”

Sharon cut in before Alaska could drop a spiel that would keep Michelle happy. “Yeah, but I’m not going.”

“Oh shit,” Alaska muttered under her breath as Michelle’s face went from concerned to angered.

“Let me talk, first. Don’t look at me like that,” Sharon murmured. “I’ll go every now and then, but it’s not necessary. I know why I did it and what led me to that environment – I’m a fucking drag queen. Do I get urges? Yes, but I have Alaska by my side 24/7 to guilt me into being a good girl. I don’t need their goddamn group therapy where John the divorced father of three kids and heroin addict tells us he used to work in a bank. I can make this change on my own.”

Michelle didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. “If you think so. I’m gonna call or visit regularly, to check in. In the meantime, I know you’ve updated your social media, but I think you should speak to your friends who spent Christmas fretting about you.”

Alaska winced, knowing that the worries of their friends was one of Sharon’s biggest guilt-trippers, guaranteed to cause her mood to change. She’d already learnt how to tiptoe delicate around things that could trigger mood swings, but Michelle hadn’t been around to notice.

“Don’t fucking remind me.” Sharon grunted, but Alaska noticed that she reached for her phone from her pocket as Michelle walked out of the house. Her own phone began to buzz as Sharon typed.

-BOTS Ladies ❤-

Sharon: i’m an asshole. Sorry i ruined the tour and xmas.. cunt wait to see you all again when im allowed to be around people again

Phi Phi: jesus i thought you’d never text us

Detox: BITCH!! We were terrified!!

Courtney: don’t ever do that again, shags. I cried when i found out u were ok. Even willam bellend did

Sharon: not really planning on doing it again..

Jinkx: get better soon

Alaska: am i not a person??

Sharon: ur an alien..

Fame: are u two hanging out rn?

Katya: because what u see isn’t always a person

Jinkx: alaska are you with Sharon omg?

Jinkx: michelle told me nothing after u got out of the ER and ICU

Sharon: boo

At the same time that Sharon looked down at Alaska in the bed, Alaska shot her a sheepish smile. Her mind raced, but she really had no idea how else to relax.

Sharon vocalized Alaska’s thoughts. “You just told our friends that we’re currently in the same place, which can literally only be my home.”

Thankfully, the only undertones in her voice were ones of amusement. Sharon collapsed onto the bed next to her, a wide grin spreading onto her face as she watched Alaska try and figure out a response.

“Uh… I guess I did. Oops.” She managed.

Sharon cracked up. “You’re so stupid!” She laughed, shifting under the covers to where Alaska was still sat up. She pushed Alaska so she was also lying down and held both of her hands. “I wanna kiss your idiot face. You mind?”

Alaska chuckled, freeing her hands so she could tug Sharon closer. “My idiot face wants to be kissed.”

In an instant, Alaska completely forgot that she’d slipped up to their friends, because Sharon’s lips were connected with hers. The older queen’s teeth bit into Alaska’s bottom lip, sucking it gently as her hands roamed in her short dark curls. Her touch was soft but insistent, wantonly asking for more whilst keeping the boundaries between them. Flush against her, Sharon was cold from walking around the house, and she curled her body into Alaska’s for warmth and closeness as their tongues entered each other’s mouths. After a few seconds they pulled apart, needing air, and pressed their sweating foreheads against one another. When Alaska opened her eyes, she saw thick dark lashes and bright blue eyes watching her, the tiniest of smiles accompanying their loving gaze.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She panted, breathless. She couldn’t control the smile that made its way onto her face as she took in Sharon’s expression.

Sharon smiled wider. “Looking at you like what?”

“Like you love me.”

The blonde kissed her again, languid and luxurious, as if she had all the time in the world. A quiet gasp escaped from Alaska’s lips, but she was in too much bliss to care.

“Because I do, pumpkin. Every moment I get to kiss you is every kiss I missed out on in four years of fucking up. That’s a lot of lost time to make up for.” Sharon breathed, her gaze never once leaving Alaska’s face. Her skin was flushed red, her lips slightly swollen from kissing, her hair mussed from Alaska’s hands – in short, she’d never looked so beautiful. Alaska’s heart beat faster at the sight of her.

“Four years is a lot of time to make up for.” Alaska repeated, arching her neck as Sharon began to plant kisses along the bottom of her jaw. “Four long years.”

Sharon started concentrating on a spot just underneath the curve of her jawline, sucking at the sensitive skin there. When she was done, she kissed the red mark she’d left.

“I can handle that.” Sharon took a moment to breathe and speak, before instantly getting back to work at Alaska’s jaw and neck. Her facial hair was growing through again, the short, dark stubble, and Alaska knew Sharon had a thing for it. Back when they had been together before, although she had never admitted it out loud, Alaska always noticed the slight increase in affection – mainly kisses on her jawline – when she had facial hair.

“We should do something today.” Sharon said suddenly, nipping at Alaska’s ear.

Alaska laughed at Sharon’s imitation of what she herself used to do when they originally dated. “Like what? Isn’t the next rehab session later today?”

A hint of teasing laced Alaska’s words. She knew there was no way in hell she was going to get Sharon to go another time – at least not in the same week. Just as she expected, Sharon let out a loud whine.

“It’s Thursday! We agreed that I wasn’t gonna go today, don’t make me go back to that suicide-inducing church. They’ll make me speak to the fucking priest, I’ll burst into flames. I mean something fun! Just us.” Sharon’s plea was almost childlike, her feverish touch and hungry lips making way for wide blue eyes and a hopeful expression.

Alaska hummed, deliberately dragging her decision out. “Hmm… all I remember is you saying you’d cook if I didn’t make you go… I don’t know, Noodles.”

“Please!” Sharon begged. “Come on, I never use proper manners. Indulge me.”

“I’m gonna need some more persuasion than that. Indulge me, what? I’m missing some manners there.” Alaska taunted further.

Sharon sighed. “Can you pass me my glasses? I can’t see a goddamn thing.”

Alaska bit back a comment about Sharon’s age, choosing the path to a quiet life. Shifting over, she reached for the table where the blonde’s glasses were sat and managed to hook them onto her finger, practically flinging them at Sharon’s face. Sharon wrinkled her nose, filling Alaska with the uncontrollable urge to kiss it, and put the glasses on.

“There we are.” She said, satisfied, and pulled herself up. She positioned her hands either side of Alaska’s head, moving so her body hovered over hers. Alaska was essentially pinned into place.

“You look prettier when I’m wearing glasses.” Sharon stated, lowering herself down.

Her lips kissed Alaska’s gently, teasing her. She knew the light touch wouldn’t be enough, and Alaska would crave more as she always did. When Alaska tried to lift her head to intensify the kiss, Sharon drew back ever so slightly, so the pressure stayed tantalisingly soft. The ball was in her court.

“Are you persuaded yet?” Sharon breathed, not giving Alaska the chance to respond before resuming her unbearably gentle kiss. Alaska found herself shaking her head.

“You’re not? Okay, what about this?”

Sharon withdrew suddenly, and Alaska moaned at the loss of her warmth above her. She waited desperately for something else, something more, allowing her to get her own way and enjoy her time with Sharon.

What she received instead was entirely unexpected; a pair of strong red hands scrabbling at her sides, her stomach, under her arms, tickling her. Alaska shrieked and flailed, uncontrollable laughter escaping from her as she writhed about. Sharon knew all of her weak spots – a four year relationship had ensured that – and she abused them all, delighting in the squeals of laughter she was causing and joining in with a few joyful chuckles of her own.

“FINE! FINE! FINE! WE CAN DO S-S-SOMETHING! YOU DON’T HA-HAVE TO GO!” Alaska giggled, practically yelling the words. “FREE ME! L-LET ME GO!”

Instantly upon her surrender, Sharon laughed and leaned down again to kiss her, this time properly. Her weight on top of Alaska – lighter due to her stay in hospital – was comforting, and when they pulled apart, Alaska grinned dumbly.

“Your glasses bumped my nose.” She complained, rubbing the little red mark they’d left. “Have you got any ideas of what you want to do today?”

Sharon smiled, pushing them up with her middle finger. “Your nose bumped my glasses. I actually don’t know. We could just see if there’s anything to do and make something out of the day.”

“I like that.”

Appearing in public with Sharon wasn’t new to Alaska, especially not when they were in drag. Appearing with public in Sharon out of drag happened a few times, generally during BOTS or with friends, never really alone. Appearing with Sharon out of drag, in public, in Pittsburgh, with the knowledge that there was some kind of relationship-but-not-relationship happening behind the scenes? Alaska didn’t really know how to act.

The city had practically become a hive for fans of strange, weird, underground drag to flock to, or just fans of Sharon, Alaska and the Haus of Haunt. The two didn’t dare to hold hands or come across as too affectionate, because they just never knew who was going to see them. Not all drag race fans were skinny white twinks obsessing over Jeffree Starr, and all it would take was a single sneaky picture from a fan of the two acting differently to spark even more online drama. Alaska wanted to avoid as much of the drama as possible, even if Sharon had already added to it,

Thankfully, their walk down the streets of Pittsburgh had been fairly uneventful. No one really gave them a second look, not caring or not knowing who they were. Alaska knew the city had a great sense of pride for the two of them, but in the daytime they weren’t really stars. The true reverence was at night, in full paint, under the sweltering lights of a club. As two fairly ordinary looking guys, minus a little bit of Botox, there was no point in staring. Unlike when they were in drag, there was really nothing to see.

“This feels so weird. We worked so hard to never be seen with each other.” Sharon mused. “I spent ages wanting to be with you and now it’s happened, it feels strange. Get what I mean?”

Alaska nodded. “Completely. I was just in denial, and now-”

“We’re here.” Sharon finished.

There was something symbolic about it, simply walking through the city. It was pleasant enough to walk around, enjoying the peace, but there was more to it. Every step felt like retracing an old memory – drunkenly stumbling down the road after a long show, kissing for the first time in the shelter of the bus stop when it rained, dates back when no one cared to learn their names. They’d come full circle, in a way. They were back where it had all started.

As they walked into the lesser-populated parts of the city, the amount of people thinned. The occasional group of kids skated past, but other than that, it was mostly empty. A few people walked past, but not enough for Alaska to feel too exposed. She slipped her hand into Sharon’s, smiling bashfully as Sharon gave hers a squeeze and didn’t object. For some reason, Alaska felt her heart swell. Sharon didn’t mind her showing a little bit of affection in public. Maybe things were changing.

Caught up in conversation, Alaska didn’t even notice the man walking in their direction until they collided, momentarily leaving Alaska dizzy. She opened her mouth, ready to apologise, and stopped when she saw Sharon’s expression.

The blonde looked shell-shocked, her lips parted slightly as she and the stranger stared each other down. Alaska tried to search for something familiar about him, but found nothing in his brown eyes, ruffled black hair, and lean build.

“Aaron. Good to see you.” He said, his voice expressionless.

Alaska frowned. Hardly anyone called Sharon Aaron. In fact, Alaska had only heard Michelle call her Aaron once, and that was in the hospital after just over half a decade of knowing her. Even Alaska herself usually called her Sharon. It was strange hearing her referred to as Aaron.

“You too, Mark.” Sharon replied, her voice even. Mark turned to Alaska, and Sharon quickly filled her in. “Alaska, this is Mark… my ex-fiancé. Mark, you know Alaska.”

Mark pursed his lips, his eyes cold. His gaze fell onto their entwined fingers. “I do know Alaska. You’ve reunited?”

Sharon coughed. “Let’s not do this, Mark. I really don’t want to do this.”

A sense of protectiveness welled up inside Alaska. Sharon’s voice was quiet, totally unlike herself. She seemed stripped of her confidence, something Alaska had been trying her best to preserve and build up since the overdose.

“Funny, I recognise those words from the night you told me I wasn’t good enough. He’ll get cold feet and leave you, the way he left me.”

Mark directed the last part towards Alaska, who glared at him. How dare he?

“You know it wasn’t like that.” Sharon sighed. “Things weren’t working. I was unhappy.”

Involuntarily, her grip on Alaska’s hand tightened. Alaska had had enough.

“Back the fuck up, Mark. It’s not your place to tell Sharon what makes her happy or criticise her for pursuing her own happiness. The last thing she needs right now is you stressing her out by being an asshole.” She spat.

Mark narrowed his eyes. “Oh? You care about her wellbeing? Again, funny how we broke up, you started talking again and then she took an overdose. I’m not saying it was intentional, but I’m saying that she’s always been good at lying.”

“That’s not true!” Sharon insisted, fiercely defending Alaska more than herself. “Don’t listen to him. Come on, let’s just get out of here.”

Mark scowled. “You’re good at brainwashing people, Aaron. I never knew you could do it to the same person twice. Thank god I got free from it.”

Without another word, Mark continued walking down the street, and Alaska tugged Sharon along, desperate to distract her from what had just happened. Sharon had told her back in the hotel room months ago that she’d had a fiancé she couldn’t bring herself to marry. No doubt Alaska had been mentioned, judging by Mark’s hostility towards the pair. Alaska recalled Sharon admitting that she couldn’t bring herself to say she loved him.

“Sharon?”

“Yeah?”

Alaska hesitated, but pushed on. “I love you.”

There was a long pause. Oh, shit, Alaska thought. I’ve gone and fucked it up now. This was going to be the part when Sharon couldn’t say it back, was just enjoying their hands-free, no stress thing they had going on. Perhaps Alaska had it twisted. But no, she was overreacting. Or was she? Sharon didn’t love her. But she did! She’d spent so long saying so. What if things had changed? Alaska was freaking out. The silence dragged on for what feel like hours, each second that ticked past stabbing into Alaska like a knife.

“I love you too.” Sharon responded. “I like saying that as long as I’m saying it to you.”

Alaska pulled the shorter queen into a whirlwind kiss, wrapping her arms around her and tilting her face upwards before letting her go and smiling.

“Shall we just go home? I can call a cab if you’re gonna find it hard to walk all the way back.”

Sharon brought Alaska’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “Whatever you want. I need to start thinking about you more.” Alaska’s insides felt warm, but something wasn’t right. A gust of cold wind on the back of her neck, a mosaic out of place in a beautiful picture. Everything was perfect but something just didn’t feel right. A feeling of foreboding began to encroach.

#purecamp #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #shalaska #willam belli #courtney act #michelle visage #rpdr fanfiction #submission #party by purecamp

52 notes · View notes