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willyismybicycle · 5 months

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Title: heavy from the hurt inside my veins [3,022words] (Part 3 of the earth, the sky, the sea) Rating: Mature Pairing: Auston Matthews/William Nylander, past William Nylander/Kyle Dubas Tags: Established Relationship (Auston and Willy), Hurt/Comfort, Finding Closure, Ex-Boyfriends, light angst, Auston Matthews is a Good Boyfriend, fluff, brief mention of a past daddy kink,

Summary: November 25, 2023: They play Pittsburgh. Willy is ready to face his past and get some closure, or so he thinks.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d agree to meet me,” Kyle says quietly, like he wasn’t the one that started pushing Will away first. He wants to say neither did I, but he bites back the butter reply.

Read below or here on AO3.

“Will.”

Just a simple word — just one syllable, but it runs through Will’s entire body like a goddamn tapeworm.

“Hey,” he says, as nonchalant as possible. The restaurant, small and cozy already, feels stifling now. He sits down at the table, across from Kyle fucking Dubas. The man he’s spent at least two years trying to forget.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d agree to meet me,” Kyle says quietly, like he wasn’t the one that started pushing Will away first.

He wants to say “neither did I”, but he bites back the bitter reply. It’s not Kyle’s fault, not really, and Will knows that, it just doesn’t make it any less shitty.

“You look good,” Kyle continues, and Will almost loses it right there. Kyle’s said that to him so many times, in so many ways.

You look good. As in: you had a great start with MoDo, we want you on the Marlies.

You look good. As in: you’re playing even better than expected, you’re the star of the Marlies, Willy. We were at the bottom of the standings before you joined and now we’re in the Calder Cup Playoffs.

You look good. As in: you’re good enough to be on the Leafs, now, Willy. Look at that, you helped Auston Matthews set an NHL record for most goals scored in a rookie’s debut.

Kyle had always thought he looked good, at least as a player. One of the first people to fully, truly, undeniable and unwaveringly believe in him. That was before it became more.

You look good. As in: I can’t, Will, we can’t do this, we shouldn’t — but I can’t say no to you.

You look good. As in: You’re so beautiful when you come for me.

“Thanks,” Will eventually bites out. Then he clears his throat and forces the next words out. “You too.”

Kyle gives him that half-smile, the one that’s a little pained, a little forced, a little self-deprecating. He probably thinks Will is just saying it, but it’s really not a lie. Kyle’s one of the most handsome men Willy’s ever seen, always put together. The one the media thinks is “cute” because they don’t know how much Kyle has to hide. They don’t know all of Kyle’s secrets like Will does. Or at least, used to.

“You played really well tonight,” Kyle tells him softly. Deflecting. Putting the attention back on Will, probably in hopes of distracting him just long enough.

“I really didn’t,” he responds flatly, fiddling with his spoon, twirling it around and around, spinning just like his mind is.

“Don’t do that,” Kyle interjects quickly. He always used to do that. The first to tell Will that he had a good game, that he was great on the ice, that everything would be alright.

Except Will can’t, and has never been able to, just “not do that”. The name he carries, the legacy, he has to be better. Always.

“You’re just coming back from a big trip,” Kyle reasons — because that’s just who he is. He’ll find a way to logically explain anything, even if there simply isn’t anything to explain.

Still, he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t enjoy it. It’s nice to feel like, maybe, everything wasn’t all his fault, all the time.

“Yeah,” he responds lamely. It’s stilted and awkward and he knows that but he can’t stop himself. The wall between him and Kyle is just far too high and far too thick, and he thinks there just may not be anything strong enough to tear it down.

Kyle’s tone changes. “You looked great. Like you had a good time. Family good?”

That conversation, at least, is less stilted. He tries not to dwell on the fact Kyle said he looked good because otherwise he’d have a public meltdown. Instead, he answers the question, talks about how everyone’s doing. He has enough friends and family that he can talk for a while without thinking.

Kyle was always good at listening. He’s asking the right questions about Will’s siblings, telling him that Alex did well tonight too, which Will appreciates. If he’s going to lose to anyone, it might as well be to his brother.

“You don’t have to stay,” Kyle says, trying to hide the sigh. Giving Will an out.

He almost hates how considerate that is. But no, he’s not going to do that to Kyle, despite the mixed feelings. “I know,” he says, making a conscious effort to open his body language up. Somehow, he had felt more comfortable in a tank top in front of a giant audience than right now, with only Kyle’s eyes on him.

“But you asked me here for a reason, didn’t you?”

“I just wanted to see you. Ask you how things have been. How… he’s been.”

Will inhales deeply at that and a part of him wants to tell Kyle to fuck off, while the other part wants to cry a little bit.

“Auston, I mean,” Kyle clarifies, as if that’s what Will was thinking about.

“He’s fine,” Will answers automatically. “We’re fine.” He’d never told Kyle who it was that picked up all the pieces of his heart after Kyle broke things off but he supposes it’s pretty obvious. Surely, Kyle knows the face he makes when he feels some type of way about someone — Kyle’s seen it before, after all. When Will used to look at him like that.

“I’m happy for you.”

At that, Willy looks up, brain trying to come up with something petty to snap back with. But the thing is, he doesn’t see a lie in Kyle’s eyes. All he sees are the warm, welcoming eyes that remind him of milk chocolate and liquid amber. It’s too honest, and it shouldn’t make his stomach do somersaults but it is, it is, it is.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Kyle asks.

He shouldn’t.

“Yeah.”

✩

As soon as Will steps inside, he’s hit with everything he thought he was no longer missing.

The way Kyle’s shoe rack is always organized, by style, then colour. There’s not a single shoelace out of place.

The smell of — pine, or cedar, or some fancy thing that the bath and body place smells like.

The way Kyle takes his coat and hangs it up before guiding him inside, a gentle hand on his back. It feels like it’s searing a mark onto him, a brand, a stamp, a sign for Auston to see that says he’s still mine.

Will shakes the thought away. That’s ridiculous. It’s his own guilt for even being here in the first place, but he’s not here for that. He’s not here to do anything except show Kyle that he’s fine. He’s fine without Kyle.

“Gorgeous like this, Willy. Beautiful.” “I want — please” “Yeah, I know you do, baby, I know what you want. Just let me watch you a bit longer, sweetheart. Sit still, just like that. Okay?” “… Okay.” “That’s my good boy. You’ve always been so good for me, haven’t you? You like being rewarded.” “Yes, daddy.”

“Drink?”

The memory fades as he focuses back on Kyle — the here and now version of Kyle.

He wants to say yes, because maybe then not every single muscle in his body would be so tense but he also doesn’t trust himself to stay on track if he isn’t stone cold sober. He shakes his head and takes a seat on the couch, which is perfectly symmetrical, stupidly pristine, white throw cushions on either end and a deep blue blanket folded over the back of it. It looks so soft, he wants to run his fingers through it, but he keeps them clasped in his lap, determined to touch nothing and no one.

It reminds him of the Maple Leafs colours. He wonders if it reminds Kyle too. Of what he left behind. He wonders if it reminds Kyle of him.

“If you want it,” Kyle says, handing Will a cup of tea. It’s made the way he likes. Of course it is.

“Thanks,” he says. He’s mostly grateful that his hands have something to do. Something to hold that isn’t Kyle’s hand.

“Look, I know I… I owe you an explanation.”

“You really don’t,” Will says, even though he really wants to hear it. “It’s hockey, right? That’s how it goes.”

That’s what he’s had to tell himself for ages. It’s just business. There was nothing personal when Kyle traded Kappy, even if Kyle knew Kasperi was his best friend, his roommate, his confidant. Hell, maybe Kyle just didn’t like the thought of Will living with someone else, who knows.

He’d spent a long time in Kyle’s arms after that, which felt like a betrayal to Kappy, and yet he couldn’t stay away. He craved the comfort, too dependent on someone holding him and telling him it’d be okay.

“Yes,” Kyle agrees. “It is just hockey, but it doesn’t mean it felt good for me to leave like that. It wasn’t amicable, I just didn’t want to burden you with it.”

Will nods, even though it sounds like more corporate bullshit. He couldn’t do what Kyle does. The secrets, the poker face, the way he needs to separate his feelings from the job.

“It wouldn't have been a burden,” Will offers. He’s not sure if that’s a lie or not, but surely it was better than Kyle leaving without a word, right?

“That’s kind of you to say, but we both know that isn’t true.”

He fucking hates when Kyle is so right, but he doesn’t have anything to dispute it. He takes a sip of the tea and sets it down, tucking his legs up and wrapping his arms around them as if to protect himself even though the damage is already done.

“And you had Auston,” Kyle continues. “I knew you’d be alright.”

That’s when he finally starts to tear up. “No you didn’t. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have known because I didn’t even know.”

“I did know, b— I knew you, Willy. I knew.”

He doesn’t know why it hurts, to hear Kyle almost call him baby again. He doesn’t know if it would hurt any less if Kyle finished that thought. He doesn’t know how Kyle ended up on his side of the sofa, hand rubbing up and down Will’s back like he’s soothing a child.

That’s what he feels like. That’s what he is.

“It’s okay,” Kyle coos. “I’m sorry, Willy. I really am sorry.”

He lets the first tear fall, watches it make a dark spot on Kyle’s pants and then he just can’t stop.

“I hate you,” he says, not even meaning it.

“You have every right to,” Kyle responds, soft and gentle, just like how he is with everything else. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed or —”

“You were!” Willy protests, curling himself into and around Kyle, swallowing up the intoxicating smell of Kyle’s cologne, letting himself be enveloped at the same time.

“I wasn’t,” Kyle says after a moment, once Will’s stopped shaking from holding it all in — or letting it all out, he’s not sure what it is anymore. “I was good to you, you were good to me, and we were happy. But that doesn’t mean I was what you needed. Or deserved.”

Fucking — this conversation again. The conversation they’ve had a million times.

“I don’t care about that stuff, I just need you.” “You’re twenty, Will. You might think it’s okay now, but it won’t be, later.” “I don’t need it, the whole — going to restaurants and — all that Instagram stuff. Who cares? They don’t have to know who I’m seeing. Nobody has to know.” “Baby, that’s the problem. It’s not that nobody has to know. It’s that nobody can know. You understand? Nobody. The entire thing — you and me — it’ll all just be a big secret.” “I can do it! I promise.” “Willy, baby, you need more than this — you deserve to be happy. Free. One day, you’ll want more.” “Why can’t I have both? I can do it, whatever it is. I can do it all, have it all. You can too, I just know it.” “You've never heard the story of Icarus.”

He doesn’t know what the hell he’s supposed to see, even to this day.

“It makes no difference, I can’t be open about Auston either,” he says, almost petulantly. He’s loosened his hold on Kyle, but he lets himself stay where it’s warm and cozy.

“You can,” Kyle says, petting his hair. “If you wanted to. The world would be delighted for you two.”

Will scoffs a bit into Kyle’s shoulder. They both know that’s not going to happen. “Yeah? How do you think that’s going to go? Hey, we banned pride tape, but not to worry, we definitely fully support two dudes making out on the ice?”

Kyle stays silent. Will hates how grown up Kyle is sometimes. He’s unshakeable, always has been. “Not everything in life is about hockey,” he says after a moment.

Will tears back this time, ignoring the way the entire front of his body grows cold without Kyle there. “That’s amazing, coming from you. You’re the one that made hockey more important, remember?”

“We can’t — I can’t keep doing this, Willy.” “He didn’t see anything! We weren’t even that close, and — and it was just — it could’ve just been a talk about my contract!” “Will, please, I need you to understand, as much as we want this, I can’t. I’d lose everything. All of it. I can’t.” You’d still have me, Will had almost said. But he didn’t want to hear Kyle say that it wasn’t enough so he said nothing.

“Maybe I was wrong,” Kyle admits quietly. “Maybe there is more, but I — I couldn’t, at that time.”

There it is. It’s all Will had wanted to hear, to have Kyle say he was sorry, he was wrong, he fucked up with Will all those years ago.

But now that he has it, it doesn’t fix the jagged cracks of his heart, it doesn’t make him feel any better, it doesn’t make him feel like he won.

It makes him feel like it was a mistake coming here.

“I have to go,” he declares, standing abruptly.

“Will —”

“I have to go,” he repeats, heading for the door to shove his feet into his runners, messily.

“Take a second,” Kyle instructs him. “I’ll drive you.”

“I — it’s fine,” Will says, shaking his head. “Really, I am. Tonight was — yeah, I needed that.”

Kyle must sense something, because he doesn’t stop Will, just looks on with that concerned look of his.

“Bye Kyle.” He hopes it sounds friendly enough. feeling a rush of emotion — of an epiphany of sorts. “See you, uh, in a month, I guess?”

Kyle nods. “Yeah. The 16th.”

“The 16th,” he echoes, a part of him satisfied that Kyle, too, had like, circled it on his calendar or something. He opens the door.

“Take care of yourself,” Kyle says, with a genuine smile. “I’m really happy for you.”

Willy bites his lip as he steps out. “Thanks.”

There isn’t anything left to say.

As soon as he’s on the street he texts Auston hoping Auston is still awake. Be there in 10.

All he gets back are four words, but it settles the brewing storm in the pit of his stomach.

Okay, waiting for you

✩

The moment he enters the hotel room, Auston calls out for him and it feels like a beacon. Auston’s shoes are kicked off by the door.

He walks towards Auston's voice and he has no idea what his face says or looks like, but Auston doesn’t say anything or ask where he’s been.

Auston’s just leaning against the headboard, watching highlights from the Boston game in a loose t-shirt, opening his arms up for Will. He probably expected Will to sit down and snuggle into his side, but it’s just not enough. Right now.

Will crawls into the bed, into Auston’s lap, fully burying his face in Auston’s neck while the highlight reels play quietly behind him.

Where Kyle smells like the forest, like a weekend camping trip in the rain, Auston smells like the beach, a summer vacation. The scent of Irish Spring soap fills Will’s nostrils, along with the light minty cucumber of his deodorant that makes him think of mojitos.

“Everything okay?” Auston asks quietly, his hand running up and down Will’s back.

“Yeah.” It’s not even entirely a lie. He lays like that, straddling Auston’s lap until it starts to feel less like everything around him is buzzing.

“I saw Kyle,” he confesses.

“Yeah,” Auston replies, calm and collected. “Still wearing that Hugo Boss, huh?”

Right. Fuck. Of course Auston can smell it on him.

“Was it okay?” Auston asks when he doesn’t say anything. “Seeing him again.”

“Yeah, I guess. But sort of not really? Not at first. It was just a lot. I’m sorry.”

“Why would you have to be sorry, baby? Nothing you have to apologize for.”

Baby.

Will finally lifts his head to look Auston in the eyes.

Kyle’s eyes remind him of a warm scotch, a little gold in all that amber. Auston though — also warm but like a pool of melted chocolate, a little bit of hazelnut atop sweet, dark syrup.

Maybe that’s always been it. Kyle made him feel more grown up than he had any right to, but Auston makes him feel like a kid in a candy store. Giddy. Hungry.

“Kiss me,” he murmurs and Auston obliges. It’s different now, just like he thought it would be ever since he had that eureka moment at Kyle’s.

It feels like he’s soaring, higher and higher, straight for the sun, except he’s not afraid. Kyle may have wanted to keep him safe and tell him to stay away, but Auston will let him fly as close as he wants.

Auston — his big, beautiful Auston, will catch him.

“Jag älskar dig, älskling,” Willy whispers against Auston’s lips when they part.

“Love you, too, baby.”

#auston matthews #william nylander #auston matthews/william nylander #auston matthews fanfiction #william nylander fanfiction #men's hockey rpf #hockey rpf #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #my works #toronto maple leafs

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

Sprinkle of Cinnamon

Summary | Another dull day at your coffee shop turns much better when an unexpected visitor becomes your favorite regular.

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4k

Warnings | none

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sound of muffled voices - disjointed laughter, a few groans. The ticking of the aging clock on the wall above the front counter. Tick tock tick tock. The sound of the oven timer in the back of the shop. The scrape of pastry knives on cutting boards. The sip of coffee through a to-go cup lid.

It had all become such a stable part of your life that you could have cried from boredom. Before your regularly scheduled 3:02pm sigh, the door opened, the bell above it twinkling merrily. Your eyes peeled up from your book in surprise at the sudden break in monotony. Casting a furtive glance at the door and stashing your book away, you tried to see who the surprise intruder was.

Your breath immediately hitched in your throat as you peeked through the pastry case and noticed that it was a man - a very handsome one at that. He was tall and lithe, dressed in dark jeans, topped off with a black shirt and leather jacket. He whipped off his sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket as he looked around the small coffee shop. His eyes were a striking cerulean, contrasting nicely to his dark hair. Classically handsome and modernly well-dressed.

Shit, shit, shit. Were you really just staring at him pathetically, hiding behind pastries instead of greeting him and welcoming him into your humble little shop?

“H-hi,” your voice. It actually cracked on a one-syllable little word. You wished the ground would swallow you up whole then and there. Rolling your eyes, you cleared your throat and tried again, “hi.”

“Hello,” he shot you a quick glance, a smile gracing his features as he held up a hand and wiggled his fingers. Was everything he did, or at least the two things you’d seen him do - pulling off his sunglasses and greeting you - attractive? Or was he just the first person under fifty you’d had come through in days?

“Hi,” you repeated, already internally groaning as he laughed lightly and came over to you. He approached the counter slowly, taking everything in stride as he looked around the homely little shop. He looked like a god in this small space, making everything seem old and worn, “what can I get you?”

“Hi again,” he smiled lightly as he leaned against the counter, watching you with keen eyes. You felt a flush of warmth well up in your cheeks as you bit on your lip and stared at the top of the counter, “I don’t take anything special - but you do have a strong dark roast?”

“We do,” that much you could happily offer him. Making a cup of coffee should be an easy and simple thing, “do you take anything in it? A little bit of sugar? Some syrup or creamer?”

“No, thank you,” a little half smile, half smirk combo pulled on the corners of his mouth, “but whatever you have that’s strongest, I’ll take it black.”

“Black? N-no creamer or sugar? Why do you hate yourself that much?” you couldn’t help but blurt it out. As soon as you did, your hands flew to your face in embarrassment as he immediately broke into a fit of laughter. Oh no. This man was going to think you were an absolute clown - whatever chance you had of him thinking anything to the contrary was now long gone, “I-I-I didn’t mean it! I’m so sorry...I should haven’t-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted as he calmed himself down, “it’s not the first time, nor will it be the last, I’ve been asked that. You know, you just grow up with it a certain way, you get used to it.”

“Did your mother never let you try different creamers?”

“Something like that,” there was a huff of laughter as his tongue darted and wet his lips. You tried not to stare. It was a herculean task, “I’ll just take that - the largest cup. Ummm...any pastries you recommend?”

“I like the bear claws,” you shrugged lightly, still embarrassed by your earlier guffaw, “they’re always a good go-to. Do you like them?”

“Tolerable,” he admitted as you giggled lightly, “well then, I’ll take your largest and strongest coffee and a bear claw.”

“I thought you said they were tolerable?”

“I did,” he agreed, “but you recommended it and you look like someone I can trust. And besides that, they do actually look pretty good.”

“I do? They do??”

“You do," he nodded, “unless you’re doubting your own recommendations?”

“Not at all,” you offered up a confident smile of your own, “I’ll have it right up.”

"How much do I owe ya?" he pulled out his wallet but you quickly shook your head, playfully swatting his hand away.

"Its on the house," you insisted softly, feeling shy and nervous suddenly, "for bringing me the most amusement I've had in hours...probably days."

“I’ll get you back,” he grinned as he walked over to one of the empty tables facing the window. You tried to calm your inner squealing down as you watched him walk away, quickly facing the other way when once he sat down facing you. As you got to work on making his coffee, you could swear you could feel his eyes glued to you. But every time you sneaked a glance at him, you found him looking down at his phone, a little smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.

It wasn’t long before you finished his coffee and grabbed a fresh pastry from the back and slowly walked it over to him, a new flood of nerves welling up in your tummy. He was handsome - more so than should be allowed - and he looked slightly familiar. It was almost like you were positive you had seen him before, but just couldn’t place where.

“Here you are,” you set everything in front of him with a flourish as he looked up at you and grinned, “if it’s good, I made it all, if it’s terrible, I wasn’t here.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” he promised, shooting you a wink as you offered a small wave and turned to go back to your station behind the counter. But before you could get more than a few feet away, you couldn’t help but spin on your heel as you faced him.

“Do I know you?” you blurted out, your face growing warm as soon as the words left your mouth. He seemed taken aback for a moment and his face flushed lightly as shook his head, “I’m so sorry, it’s just....you just look so familiar…”

“I think I’d remember if we’d met before. I wouldn’t forget seeing a face as pretty as yours,” he said softly. Completely turning the table as you tried not to completely melt into a puddle on the floor. You bit your lip before playfully rolling your eyes and walking away, “hey - what’s your name, coffee girl?”

You turned around and offered him your name before giving him a little mock bow, “but coffee girl works too, coffee purchaser - or do you happen to have a name?”

“Bu-James,” he quickly caught himself as you raised an eyebrow and tried not to laugh too much. His face immediately turned a shade darker as he stared at his coffee.

“Well, Bu-James,” you teased with a wink, “it was nice meeting you. Enjoy your coffee!”

You darted away and to the back as you attended to the pastries that needed to be prepared for tomorrow. Your body was practically buzzing with exciting energy as you tried to focus on the dough and batters, rather than the nervous fluttering in your tummy. Funny how one stranger could turn your whole day around.

“Silly girl,” you whispered to yourself, vainly attempting to ground yourself in reality. It was one stranger - albeit incredibly handsome and funny - and that was all. Nothing more and nothing less. As soon as he left he wouldn’t even remember the fool that brought him his coffee, Meanwhile, you knew he would be lingering in your mind for some time. A heavy sigh escaped your lips before you finally focused on your work.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a rainy afternoon, a completely out of the blue summer storm that had caused everyone to revel in the coolness while you were stuck working. It was even more boring than normal - if that was even possible. You cleaned over the same spot on the counter for the tenth time, glaring at it as you tried to eliminate it for good.

“Hey coffee girl,” your heart practically did somersaults in your chest at the sound of the familiar voice. Be cool, be cool, you repeated to yourself several times before slowly turning to face the door. There he was - in all his golden glory, pulling sunglasses off and sticking them in jacket pocket as he approached, “just who I was hoping to see.”

“H-hey James,” you stammered nervously, dropping the rag to the side as you offered him a small smile. He strolled over at a leisurely pace before leaning on his elbows on the counter and resting his face in his hands. He watched you with a lazy little smile, “what are you doing here?”

“At a coffee shop?” he quirked an eyebrow at you in amusement, causing you to groan before the two of you shared a laugh, “I was thinking a coffee sounded good.”

“And does it?” you turned and gestured to the grinder as he nodded lightly, “coming right up. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be outside enjoying the nice summer rain?”

“I’ve seen enough rain,” he shrugged as he watched you work, admiring your deft hands and the concentrated look on your face, “besides, there’s something I wanted to enjoy even more.”

“Oh? And what could that be?” you topped his coffee off with just a sprinkle of cinnamon, “it was the bear claw, wasn’t it?”

“That was pretty good, but that’s not it,” he promised as you handed him the coffee. He gratefully took the coffee and held it to his nose, taking a moment to smell and inhale the delicious scent, “maybe it’s the coffee girl.”

“Stop,” you grabbed the rag and playfully swatted his arm with it, “you don’t have to pretend to be all nice and what not to get the coffee. As far as I’m concerned, it’s on the house.”

“Even if that was the only reason I was here, what’s the reason for it being on the house today?” he leaned in even closer and you could practically feel the warmth of his body radiating onto you. Where his eyes even bluer up close? Was his smile really that magical? Shit. You were in deep and you’d barely even spoken to the man.

“I highly doubt the shop will dismantle because of one cup of coffee-”

“Two.”

“Fine - two cups of coffee I’ve given away,” you mirrored his position and the two of you watched each other closely, “and besides, maybe the company isn’t too bad at all, James.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” he grinned as the tips of his ears flushed red, “I-”

Just before he could say anything else, the bell above the door twinkled and a small group of people clambered in. You wanted to groan and wished you could tell them to leave, but instead you tore your gaze away from James and to the new arrivals.

“Sorry,” you murmured softly as he nodded in understanding. You straightened up and reluctantly made your way to the other side of the counter. Before he could leave, you stole another glance at your newly anointed favorite customer and shot him a shy smile.

Bucky watched you for a few moments before taking his coffee and heading for the door. He caught your eye briefly before raising his arm and giving you a quick wave. You timidly raised a hand in response and crooked your fingers, reluctant to see him go. This had to be the one time you’d had a sudden influx of customers.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been several weeks since you’d last seen James. Fifteen days to be exact. Not that you were counting or anything. Things just hadn’t been quite the same since. Days seemed to drag on and no matter how many customers you had been getting, both old and new, no one was quite the same as him. Everyone was so average.

Before the break in his regularity, he was making it a habit of coming every other day or so, even if it was just for a few moments to say hi and grab a coffee before heading out for work. You come to enjoy his presence, and getting to know little bits and pieces of him. You should have known better than to slowly fall for a regular customer. Sigh.

It was a slow evening, and you’d made your rounds and checked on the few customers that were lingering in the shop, doing things such as studying or reading. You’d cleaned the bar and counters down a couple of times by now, and decided if you cleaned any further you’d wipe them away altogether. You pulled out a book you’d been wanting to get to forever, deciding you might as well make some use of your time.

“Slacking on the job?” you almost jumped out of your stool at the sound of the familiar voice, slamming your book shut in surprise, “sorry, coffee girl, didn’t mean to scare you!”

“James,” you immediately knew who it was from his warm chuckle as you clutched at your racing heart, “y-you didn’t scare me…”

“Hmm,” he was leaning against the counter, watching intently as you put your book away, “is that why you jumped out of your seat and almost threw the book at me?”

“Yup,” you agreed with a shy smile, mirroring his position, “definitely why.”

“You can admit you were scared,” he insisted, “you’re pretty cute when you’re scared.”

“Shut up,” you bit your lip as you studied the wood grain in the seemingly ancient counter. He nudged his elbow lightly with yours, causing you to turn your attention back to him. The two of you stared at each other quietly for a few moments, “you came back.”

“Of course I came back,” he said as if it were obvious he would. You had certainly had your doubts - after all, why would he waste his time coming back to a small little hole in the wall? He tilted his head to the side and gave you a curious look, “did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I...ummm...no, I didn’t,” you confessed quietly, “it’s just, you were gone for a few weeks and then...this place doesn’t exactly seem to fit your vibe is all.”

“I was...working,” he admitted, although judging by the use of the word working, you couldn’t help but wonder what he did, “and trust me, this place is much more my style than anything fancy or whatever you want to call it. I came back as soon as I could.”

“Whatever for?”

“Really?” he laughed as your face felt warm and you hid behind your hands, “maybe it was for the excellent coffee, maybe for the coffee girl.”

“You’re too much,” you said as you reluctantly met his eyes, “you want a cup? I can make you one…”

“I’d love some,” he nodded, “but only if it’s with whatever little thing you do to it.”

“A sprinkle of cinnamon,” you confessed as you pointed to the freshly ground cinnamon you’d prepped earlier in the day. A look of surprise crossed his face as he just grinned at you, “it’s my secret little go, if I didn’t tell you, you’d never know. But it just adds a little something.”

“It makes it-” he was quickly cut off by the loud vibrating of his phone. He rolled his eyes and sighed as you laughed before fishing it. As soon as he saw who was calling him, he sighed again and gave you an apologetic look before answering, “what?”

Your eyebrows shot up as you tried to hold back your giggles at his exasperation. You busied yourself with brewing him a fresh cup and tried not to listen in too much - you were curious but not nosy. Singing quietly under your breath, you had his brew ready in no time. When you turned around, James was looking at you with a guilty little expression.

“Everything alright?” you set the coffee down in front of him as he gratefully took it.

“I have to go,” he confessed, and he actually seemed reluctant to do so, “it’s...work. It’s just...pretty important. I’m sorry...I wanted to stay.”

“Now you’re being crazy,” you insisted, although the idea that he actually came to see you, made your heart skip a few beats, “go and take care of something much more important! If you need a cup of coffee once in a while, you know where to find me.”

“Ahhh, I like you coffee girl,” he reached into his pocket to attempt to get his wallet out. As usual you shook your head and pushed his hand away, “fine. Alright. Let me give you something else instead.”

“Okay, now that sounds a little creepy,” you laughed as he realized his gaff. His face turned a light shade of pink as he reached for a napkin and the pen behind the counter. He quickly scribbled something down as you had a feeling you knew exactly what it was. But you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself…that was for later.

“Here,” he said softly as he pushed the nap towards you, “that’s my number - obviously. I...umm...if you ever want to talk or whatever, you can...yeah.”

“I’m pretty sure I can figure out what a number is for,” you shot him a wink as you grabbed the napkin and pulled it closer. Your heart was practically hammering in your chest at this point, “I'll see you around, James.”

“See you around, coffee girl,” he said softly as he waved his coffee cup at you and started to head to the door, “have a good night.”

“You too,” you said softly as he left under the twinkling bell of the door. You watched him walk away through the windows, sighing wistfully. He came back. He gave you his number. Holy shit.

You looked at the napkin and the number he wrote. It all seemed normal until you saw that he had written his name. Except it wasn’t his name.

Instead of James, it said Bucky.

Who the hell was Bucky?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You paced around your apartment as you stole furtive glances at your phone. To text him or not to text him? That was the question.

It had been almost four days since he’d given it to you. You wondered if he thought about you. If he was wondering why you hadn’t reached out to him. Your stomach churned with guilt.

After he gave you his phone number, you’d gone home and googled it, along with both the names you now knew him by - James and Bucky. With just those few bits of information, it wasn’t hard to figure out who he really was. You were almost positive that he didn’t tell you his real identity for fear of you freaking out or being afraid of him. But you weren’t afraid - you had no reason to be. You just wished he would have told you in the first place, but you understood his reasons.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you snatched up your phone and decided to just text him. Why not? There was literally nothing to lose. You might as well see where this went.

Hey James. Or do you prefer Bucky? It’s Coffee Girl.

As soon as you sent the text, a sense of regret welled up in your belly and you groaned heavily. You tossed your phone onto the couch and headed into the kitchen to get a glass of wine. Anything to occupy your mind as you tried not to think about all the possibilities of what he could say in response. Or not. Perhaps he wouldn’t text you back at all.

You weren’t sure which possibility was worse.

Pouring the rosé with a heavy hand, you slowly filled your glass. Once you were satisfied with it, you took a long drink and refilled what you had just consumed. Your heart almost stopped when you heard your phone buzz from the couch cushion.

You took another long drag from the wine and almost ran into the living room. You picked up the phone and excitedly saw that it was indeed from James...Bucky? You had saved him as James Bucky in your phone for the time being.

Opening his message, you quickly read it, finding yourself grinning from ear to ear.

Ahh, I gave myself away, didn’t I? Bucky. Call me Bucky.

You didn’t even bother to wait to send a message back: Okay Bucky. You did. Were you going to tell me or was I always going to have to figure it out on my own?

You wondered if you pushed him too far. Too much. But his reply suggested anything but.

I was going to tell you, believe it or not. I just wanted to make sure it was the right time. I didn’t want you to worry or hate me or be scared.

I’m not scared, I promise. Just wondering how I got to be lucky enough to be your coffee girl.

Now you just felt like a stupid fool at your vain attempt at flirting. Cringe. You wanted to curl up and pretended that none of it ever happened.

But to your continued surprise, he texted you back.

And then some more. Until the very late hours of the night where you reluctantly had to tell him goodnight for the time being before you fell asleep.

It was okay, because somehow you’d managed to get a date out of it. You had an actual real life date with Bucky. Shit. How on earth were you going to survive that?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bucky was nervous. Gods, when was the last time he ever felt this nervous? He couldn’t even remember. He had a small bouquet of flowers in his hands as he waited for you in front of the small restaurant you’d picked for dinner. He rocked back and forth on his heels as he looked at the time. You’d be getting there any moment. He’d been there for fifteen minutes. Wanting to be early, and also because he was nervous. Mostly because he was nervous. Ugh. He was almost tempted to run away and head home, just because he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. But he also really wanted to see you again too.

“Hey Bucky,” the sudden sound of your voice almost made him jump as he turned around to face you. A smile quickly spread on his face as he drank in the sight of you; you were wearing such a simple dress, nothing too fancy, but you still managed to take his breath away. You snorted lightly when you noticed his silence, “you alright there - cat got your tongue?”

“No, I-I...hi,” he held out the flowers to you and you eagerly told them, inhaling their sweet, saccharine scent, “these are for you.”

“Thank you,” you said softly as you offered him the sweetest eyes he had ever seen, “they’re beautiful. No one’s ever gotten me flowers before!”

“I think it’s time we change that,” he said softly as you tried to conceal some of the excitement off your face, “I’m glad you came...I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.”

“There was never a doubt,” you promised, “even if you had told me who you were right off the bat. See, I knew you looked familiar!”

“It’s a lot for people,” he admitted, “a lot of people just see the -”

“Bucky,” you interrupted him softly, “I just see Bucky. The handsome, funny man that made my day the instant he came in. That’s all.”

“You’re something else, sweetheart,” he said softly as you reached for his hand, “you sure want to do this? You can still say no.”

“I want to Bucky,” you promised firmly, “how about we get inside before you change your mind and run off on me? Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“I’m all in,” he agreed softly, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Me too. All in.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #james buchanan barnes

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gyrfa-gariadus · 3 years

Note

Hey I'm trying to figure out my little age because I dont know it and I involuntarily regress and I experience the first two stages of regression and after a while I get loud and feel super duper excited so what do you think it is..?

Hey!! While it’s okay to not know your little age or have a large range between then numbers you regress to let’s try to help anon! There are a few ways we can try to help make an educated guess on this.

Milestones and if they are something you can do(within reason)

So let’s go through some ages.

Baby regression

Less than 1 month -limbs flexed,head is heavier may not hold head up right, crying, Lots of sleeping.

1.5 months -holding head up, gurgling as well as crying,scared by loud noises ,smiles responsively,only lays down

3 months -looks at a 45° angel when spoken to,turns head at vowel sound,social smile, sad when company leaves.only lays down

6-8months sits with support for short amount of time,mouths on objects,moves objects from one place to another,turns to their name,babbles two syllable sounds,puts food in mouth,hold bottle by self

9months attempted crawling, can move around while sitting,look for fallen toys,poke with index finger ,understands “no”,plays peekaboo

Toddler regression

1 year-stands alone,crawls,walks unsteadily,pincer grip,bangs bricks together,2-3 words other than “mama/dada”,responds to “give it to me”

1y3m-walks independently,servers words,echolalia, understands siblings name,drinks from a cup

1y6m-picks up objects from the floor,walks alone steadily,scribbles!,towers bricks2-3 tall,known body parts,knows 25-50 words,takes shoes and socks off,uses spoon,indicates toilet needs.

2years-copies others actions, gets excited with others,shows independence, shows defiant behaviour,parallel play,points to things and name them, follow simple instructions, Completes sentences and rhymes in familiar books, Begins to sort shapes and colors , Plays simple make-believe games, Follows two-step instructions such as “Pick up your shoes and put them in the closet.”,Names items in a picture book such as a cat, bird, or dog.

3years -Shows affection for friends without prompting, Takes turns in games, Shows concern for crying friend, Understands the idea of “mine” and “his” or “hers”, Understands words like “in,” “on,” and “under”, Can work toys with buttons, levers, and moving parts, Plays make-believe with dolls, animals, and people, Does puzzles with 3 or 4 pieces

preschooler regression

4years-draws a person with 2-4 body parts,can tell you what they think it will happen next in a book/movie/show,shows interest in interactive games,can follow 3 step commands

5 years -wants to please friends,likes to sing and dance,is sometimes demanding and competitive,tells stories using full simple sentences,counts to 10,draw a person with 6 or more parts,can use a fork and spoon and even a a table knife when supervised,swings and climbs, shows a wide range of behaviours.

School age regression

6 years old-Show more independence from parents and family,pays more attention to teamwork and and friendship,wants to share accomplishments, most 6-year-olds will have lots of energy and will need time outdoors to burn it off. Physical activity will be important, more adept at drawing and writing letters, understand sophisticated concepts, like not hurting someone’s feelings, Loves to show off talents.

7 year olds-more confident,takes pride in sharing knowledge and fun facts, better able to handle transitions and last-minute changes, however still find comfort in a routine,may start to feel insecurities,able to describes the causes and consequences of emotions, Starts to use self-calming strategies, such as repeating phrases or taking deep breaths, when feeling distressed.

That’s where I’ll leave it as I the list is already long.However regression doesn’t stop at 7 there are older regressors. However for anon I’d look toward the end of baby regression, and more towards toddler maybe in the range of 1-4 years. But you don’t need an “age” of your regression you can just regress and be safe.

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lin-nin · 3 years

Text

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 8

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

Chapter 8: Introductions

< | Previous Chapter

At some point in the journey, you had opened the curtains to the carriage windows, peering outside of them curiously. You knew you were well beyond your territory now. All the lands that sprawled outside were Techno’s, small farms and towns whipping by as you went. You weren’t entirely sure exactly how long the two of you had been traveling, but you knew you were beyond ready to get out and stretch. Your legs were growing restless, and you were sure it showed in how you shifted constantly beneath your blanket.

“We’ll be there soon. The capital isn’t too far off now, those are the outlying villages there,” Techno spoke up, glancing from the book in his lap. He pointed out the window, your gaze following the direction. Beyond the window stood a clearly more populated town. It seemed to flourish well. At least from what you could see.

“Good. I’m tired of being in here,” You nearly whined, leaning back some. He chuckled in response, returning his attention back to his book. The two of you had lapsed into silence some time ago, but it was welcome. You took the time to watch the landscape roll by. Now, though, you were just ready to get to the castle. You knew it was definitely gonna be eventful, though you weren’t entirely sure how eventful.

The scenery slowly morphed from the flourishing outer towns to that of the capital, buildings lining the cobbled streets. People were looking towards the carriage, clearly clamoring. Were they excited to see you? Or were they unhappy that it was you inside with Techno? You couldn’t gauge that from inside, and you weren’t sure you really wanted the answer. Not right now, at least. You sunk against the seat, closing your eyes and taking a slow breath. That similar nervousness was beginning to build in your stomach again.

“It won’t be too bad. They’re not scary.” Techno reassured you from his spot, closing his book and setting it aside. He glanced out of the window instead. You shifted, giving a small nod.

“It’s hard to not be nervous. You are the only person here I know,” you murmured. Your fingers curled into the blanket on your lap. Then they smoothed it over, repeating the motion several times. As if it were the most therapeutic thing there was right now. The castle was quickly coming into sight, and you nervously chewed on your lip. Was there anything about this place that wasn't intimidating?

As if to answer your question, the carriage lurched to a halt. No sooner than the carriage's stop, you could hear an almost overwhelming clamor outside of it. "Technoblade!" One voice had called out, clearly enunciating each syllable of his name. You turned to the aforem prince, raising an eyebrow.

Before he could even comment, a much louder voice was calling out, "Oi! Techno! Took you long enough to get here!" Were those both his brothers? He sighed, standing up to move towards the door.

"Might as well get it over with before they come in here themselves." He shook his head, opening the door and stepping down onto the stone beneath the carriage. He turned back towards the carriage and where you sat, holding out a hand to help you down. You had carefully moved the blanket away from your lap, moving towards the exit. Your hand was shaking, you realized, as you settled it into Techno’s. His fingers curled around your palm, grounding you slightly as you followed him down onto the path below. Once you had landed safely, his hand was withdrawing from yours. Much to your chagrin.

Your attention was forced away from Techno, instead to the small gathering of people who had been clearly waiting. Four of them stood there, and you really wanted to shrink away from them. It didn’t help that two of them were tall. Just like Techno. Were those his brothers? There were certainly some similarities between them.

“How was your trip?” One of the men said. He wasn’t as tall as the others, but he was clearly older. Blonde hair was held in a loose ponytail, quite similar to how Techno wore his. Just without the braids. His blue eyes were framed by the faintest hint of bags. He seemed… nice. Whoever he was, Techno hadn’t told you of him.

"It was fine. Philza, meet my fiancée," Techno motioned towards you. The man turned to you with a soft smile, offering his hand out for a shake. You very carefully took it, offering a soft smile.

"Lovely to meet you. I'm these boys's uncle." He let go of your hand as he spoke. At least he was relatively nice. It helped to soothe your nerves. Of course, it still didn't stop you from sticking to Techno’s side, almost literally. He was the most reassuring thing here.

"Those are my brothers," Techno grabbed your attention, pointing out the two tall ones.

"Wilbur," he identified one of them. He was the tallest of the group. If he had been closer, you undoubtedly would have had to crane your head back. He didn't have long hair, but it was instead kept short. Soft brown curls sat messily atop his head, a few trapped beneath a thin circlet. His brown eyes looked nothing short of tired. That seemed to be a theme among the family, but you didn't exactly question it. He raised his hand, waving at you.

"Pleasure." He inclined his head, and you could only blink. This was the man your parents assumed you would be marrying. He definitely held himself differently from Techno, so you could understand their rage.

"Nice to meet you, Wilbur." You were quick to greet, turning to look at the blonde one beside him. His hair was quite similar to Wilbur’s, just blonde instead of brunette. He bore quite the resemblance to Philza. Just younger and taller. Blue eyes looked at you excitedly, not nearly as exhausted looking as his family.

"Tommy." Techno gave Tommy a very pointed glare. Almost as if to tell him to behave.

"It's about time Techno got a wife," Tommy huffed. His voice was louder than Wilbur and Philza's. You had a feeling it could get louder if prompted. Heat rose to your cheeks at the statement, and you looked aside. You weren’t married to him yet.

"I'm Tubbo! Tommy's friend!" The shortest of the bunch greeted rather excitedly. He grinned at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. He seemed kind, even with the ends of his brown locks covering his brown eyes. Techno had been right. They didn't seem too bad, and all around seemed nice. Hopefully you were able to form a friendship with them over time.

"Schlatt has been in a fit about needing you to come talk to him when you came back. I told him you would be busy, but he didn’t care to listen,” Philza spoke up once more, causing Techno to give perhaps the most irritated sigh you had heard.

“I don’t care about him. What does he even want?” Techno put a hand between your shoulders, gingerly steering you forward towards the castle. He walked alongside Philza, keeping his hand steady. You found solace in the touch, not caring to move away. You didn’t exactly want to get lost here.

“Same thing he wanted the past couple of weeks. Complaints about the marriage arrangement. You know he’s determined that this is the worst decision ever. It’s not, but he really has himself convinced it is,” Philza explained to Techno. You couldn’t help but frown at that. You had no idea who this Schlatt was, but he sounded somewhat important. He didn’t seem to like the idea of you being here, either.

“Hey, Tubbo,” Tommy’s voice rang from behind you. You hadn’t even noticed the other three following. That wasn’t exactly surprising, though.

“Yes, Tommy?”

“Have you ever tried telling your father to shut the fuck up?” You couldn’t help but snort at the words, head shaking. “Why’s he care who Techno marries?” There was a couple of seconds of silence following the questions.

“You know he’s kind of scary, Tommy. I’m the one who has to stay with him at the end of the day.” Tubbo sounded almost reluctant, and you peered over your shoulder to get a peek at him and the blonde.

“Remember what happened last time he spoke out, Tommy. We agreed that we wouldn’t have him do anything like that again,” Wilbur had spoken up, voice level and calm. He sounded like a voice of reason to the younger.

“I know, I just wish someone would shut him up. Maybe we should give Tubbo a room in the castle. Techno! Hey, Techno!” Tommy pondered out loud before calling to the man beside you. Quite loudly. That must have been what Techno meant when he said Tommy was obnoxious. You had tuned out of Techno and Philza’s conversation in favor of the one the other three had been having, but turned your attention to the men beside you. Especially since Tommy was relentlessly dragging them into this conversation instead.

Techno sighed, not even bothering to glance at his younger brother. He must be used to this. There was no telling how much this happened. “Yes, Tommy?”

“Could we give Tubbo a room here in the castle? So he doesn’t have to deal with shitty Schlatt?” Tubbo stammered as Tommy spoke, as if weakly protesting. He was largely ignored.

“I’m not king yet, Tommy. That isn’t my call. It probably won’t be for a while.” He reasoned, leading the blonde to frustratedly groan.

“Father never sides with me. Surely you can put a word in for poor Tubbo here.” You hardly paid attention to the shifting scenery around you, only distractedly noting the warm toned walls and tile floors. A touch nicer than your own castle, but somehow that wasn’t a surprise. You were more fond of listening to the siblings bicker back and forth between each other instead.

“Depends. Does Tubbo want a room in the castle?” All attention shifted to the aforementioned male, who seemed to sweat under the pressure.

“I, uh… I mean, I’m not entirely opposed to it, no. It would be nice to get away from him…” Tubbo murmured in uncertainty. Techno nodded, pausing in the middle of the room they had entered. Subsequently, his hand fell away from your shoulders and you immediately missed the warmth of his hand there. It had been comforting. Sure, it wasn’t as intimidating now that you knew four other people at least liked you. Yet you also knew there was one person, if not more, that weren’t entirely fond of you. Or the idea of you.

“Then I’ll speak to him about it. I’m sure we have a room to spare. Now, do you three intend to follow me? I would like to do a tour of the castle,” Techno turned to the three others. You glanced over towards Philza, who simply chuckled and shook his head.

“I’ll see you around, little one,” The older blonde said. He walked by you, gently patting your shoulder in reassurance as he walked up one of the sets of stairs winding around either side of the room.

“I’m going, Nihachu wants to see me for something anyways.” Wilbur didn’t say much, instead opting to just walk away. That was fine with you, honestly. You briefly watched him go down a hall to the left of the stairs, wondering who Nihachu was. You’d probably meet them sooner or later. There were a lot of people to meet, but there was time for that.

“Oh, you hear that Tubbo? Techno wants to be alone with his woman-” Tommy had began loudly, causing Techno to groan.

“Tommy-”

“Let’s give him some privacy. Behave yourselves, you two! Don’t do anything Quackity would do!” Tommy was already leaving, dragging Tubbo alongside him. Techno sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You really understood what he meant when he called Tommy obnoxious.

“Ignore him. He’s an idiot. Let’s just go, shall we?” He turned towards you. You laughed a little, shaking your head.

“He’s certainly a character. They all are,” You couldn’t help smiling fondly though. You knew you would grow to like them. They had, momentarily, squashed all stress and worry you had felt. Techno’s hand returned to your shoulder, moving you along the way to finally start the proper tour of the castle. Without Tommy breathing down your shoulders.

Next Chapter | >

#technoblade #technoblade x reader #dream #dreamwastaken #dream x reader #reader insert #kingdom au #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois family #dream team #dream smp #t&t

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harringtonstudios · 4 years

Text

best friend’s ex. (II)

plot: he’s your best friend’s ex and you should stay away, but it seems impossible.

A/N: i’m weak for this au what can i say.... hope everyone’s staying safe and enjoying the new songs!! pls give me feedback it fuels me on <3

masterlist! part I.

Waking up to an warm arm wrapping tightly around your side isn’t normal. In far, it’s so far out of your daily routine, that for a second, you close your eyes again, will yourself to actually get up from the diluted dreamscape you seem to be in.

The same sight greets you the second time around, tuft of blonde hair resting on your chest on top of the white blanket that covers you both. There’s a head attached and it takes you a minute to place everything together before you feel yourself dry swallowing.

The Sahara Desert resides in your mouth, lines up on your tongue and you close your lips together at the uncomfortable feeling of a hangover crawling around you.

Colson Baker.

He’s still asleep, you can tell by the slow rise and fall of his body where it lies basically attached to yours. Why his head is tucked right under your chin, you can’t really explain, just like you can’t quite figure out why you’ve let this happen.

Attempting to shift a little, you hear a soft sound fall out from his lips, see his head move against the haven it rests on. Your chest feels heavy, not just cause of his added weight, but the intent behind it.

The sunlight in his room is filtering through the cracks between his dark curtains. You follow the trail of golden as it creeps over his wooden floor, tilts into the grooves of his floorboards, slides up the white walls.

It’s probably been a minute since you’ve been up, maybe two, but it feels like forever, stuck in this awful limbo.

Your phone starts ringing, tinny and harsh against the beacon of peace you’ve built up for yourself. It startles you enough that you automatically reach out to your side, only to meet empty space. This isn’t your bedroom, the table by your head isn’t there, and you have no idea where your phone is.

The ringtone does enough to wake Colson up. He grunts out something before shifting completely off of you, collapsing back into the mattress. His head is still lower than the various pillows on his bed, but he seems content, face relaxed against the sheets.

You take it in for a millisecond, trace your eyes over his parted pink lips, the faint hint of a scar prepped up between his eyebrows, the flutter of his lashes.

Not yours, the warning sign shouts. Get away.

Your phone is still ringing when you slide off of his bed, wearing nothing, hastily wrapping the blanket around yourself. He shifts on the bed again, and you watch the way his hand reaches out, down to pull at something that isn’t even there. Your chest tightens again, but he’s just mumbling, sleep dazed and his eyes don’t open.

When you reach your phone, somehow it’s ended up across the room, hidden under your jeans from last night, you’ve had five missed calls.

Domi’s name flashes on your screen, followed by a battery warning and you hiss at the predicament you’ve put yourself in. You quickly text her, a simple: Safe. Will be home soon, with someone.

You don’t specify it past that, try to leave it as open-ended as you can. She’s going to dig, claw her way to the truth, but for now, there’s other things to worry about.

There’s a charger plugged next to his bed and you move over, still clutching his blanket as you bend down to attach your phone to it, satisfied as it slightly buzzes, muttering out “Fuck yeah.”

“Good morning to you too,” replies Colson, his voice deeper, twinged with hours of sleep and the lingering effects of vodka.

You straighten up, awkwardly smile at him, feeling very warm trapped between his feather downs. He smiles back, but lets his fingers rub at closing eyes.

“Where are my clothes?” he asks. It’s only then that you actually look at him fully in bed. He’s just as naked as you, bare and on display and you blush at his lack of modesty. It’s not unusual, even when Domi was dating him, you’d been mooned enough times to recognize his ass in a line up, but it feels intimate now.

“I have no idea,” you mumble, shifting your eyes away as he stretches his arms. He takes in the sight of you, the blanket loosely hanging over your body, the way your fingers clutch at it like a life preserver, saving you from something you can’t bare to name.

“Are you-?” he starts, but you cut him off nodding quickly. This doesn’t have to be a discussion, you don’t want this to be a discussion.

“Look I’ll just get my stuff and then be out of your way,” you rush out, eager to get back to a sense of normalcy. You’ve had one night stands before, you can handle this.

“No breakfast?” he mumbles and his eyes are lighting up, mischievous in the faint morning light.

“I’d rather starve,” you mutter, turning around to walk back to where your discarded skinny jeans lay.

“Oh c’mon, I know you better than that. We can get waffles or something?” he tries again and you hear him shuffling around as you awkwardly pull on jeans. It’s uncomfortable, you have no idea where your underwear is but at least you’re clothed, which is better than Colson.

“Domi likes waffles. I’m a pancake kinda girl,” you retort, antsy to prove something. He doesn’t know you, not as well as he claims to. Instead he’s mixing up the fragments of your best friend into you, swirling two different people together to create the one he wants.

“Right,” it’s dry, dying halfway in his throat. The silence in the room grows amidst the white noise of his air conditioner.

Picking up your shirt from the corner of his room, you pull it on, awkwardly adjusting it before balling up his blanket and walking over to drop it on his bed.

“Cover up your dick man,” you blurt out, hands running through the tangles in your hair, head jerking slightly at the pull.

“You weren’t saying that last night,” he smirks and you urge to wack him hard, maybe with one of his own weirdly soft pillows.

He reaches down into the drawers crammed under his bed, pulls out a pair of shorts and shuffles into them laughing at his own joke.

You do hit him then, pick up the nearest pillow, sheathed in that same silk pillowcase as the rest before throwing it his way.

He dodges it before flipping you off and the memory of it bites, nights spent throwing things at each other, the guys all egging you two on. Domi used to scoff whenever it started, yell about being childish and irritating, but you secretly knew she enjoyed it too, watched her boyfriend and best friend fight like old friends.

You snap out of it just as fast as you fell in, a pillow coming straight to hit you in the face.

“Colson!” you shout, hand going up to rub the impacted area as he smiles.

“Not sorry,” he simply shrugs and you scoff at him, push off the bed you’d sat on after the collision and go over to where he’s standing, reaching for your phone.

He blocks your hand, shifts over so that’s he standing right in your line of sight, eclipsing any further view. All you see is him, smirk permanently resting on his lips, array of colors bursting on his skin, faint whispers of something hidden in his eyes.

“My phone,” you try unceremoniously, knowing that he won’t let you past him.

“Do breakfast with me,” he demands, but its soft, a plea more than a request.

You sigh, it’s audible and you know he hears it by the slight sag of his shoulders but he’s relentless.

“It’s just like old times, won’t be weird,” he states and you find yourself laughing at his words.

“We both know that’s not true,” you say, eyes lifting up to meet his. There’s a hardness to his gaze and a part of you wants to break through it, dive in headfirst.

But this is not your territory, not your person, not your place. Domi’s etched into his soul, written somewhere, dipped into his past and no matter what you want, there is no feasible way you can be his present without ruining a friendship.

“It’s just pancakes,” he emphasizes, but he’s stepping aside all the same, letting you bend over and grab your phone.

When you turn back around, he has a shirt on, hair ruffled worse than it was when he woke up. It’s sticking up at ends and you fight the urge to walk over, laugh and pat it down.

He’s aimlessly searching for his own phone and you spot it on the windowsill, go over to pick it up and hand it off to him, murmuring, “Okay.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles out and you can’t tell whether it’s for offering his breakfast invitation or finding his phone.

You hesitate a second too long and he gives you a pointed look and then you’re moving into his space, crowding against his front.

His hands automatically fall onto your waist, pull you in but you can the confusion flickering across his face.

“Hey,” he softly says and something breaks in you.

It’s surprisingly easy to kiss him again, to drink in those lips, still warm from the early morning haze, softer than they were last night. There’s that now familiar ringing bell in the back of your head, but it disappears as Colson’s tongue slips into your mouth.

There’s obvious morning breath mingling with rank tastebuds and as much as you want to recoil, you don’t know if you’ll ever let this happen again so you soak it in, let the feeling overwhelm you.

Your fingers travel up to his messy hair, soothingly pulling at the strands in order to attempt tampering them down. He lets out a tiny groan as your nails slightly scratch at his scalp. You push further into him, fall enough that it seems like the only thing holding you up is him.

The door slams open just as you’re getting into it, leaning heavily against Colson’s body as he props himself on the wall.

The sound is enough to make you jump back, and there’s the confused look back on his face as you hastily wipe at your lips.

“You’re still here,” a voice stresses the syllables out, and you eye Rook standing there. He’s dressed, complete with that one snapback that seems to be permanently attached to his head, but the scowl on his face is all you can focus on.

“I was- um- just leaving,” you awkwardly stammer out, putting more distance between the person you seem to be magnetically attracted to.

“We’re getting breakfast. You wanna come along?” Colson spurts out without missing a beat, he’s striding towards the door and your face hardens.

There must have been some kind of miscommunication in the mess of his words, you must have read too far into it because here he was inviting his friend who clearly wasn’t too fond of you as if this was a casual thing.

“I’m good,” Rook says, tone easing when he’s speaking to his best friend. They walk out of view and you’re left alone in the room you’ve only been in twice.

There’s a bathroom right around the corner of his room and you head straight for it, pulling out the toothpaste from his cabinet and applying it to your finger, scrubbing your teeth. It’s primal, but at least you feel cleaner, a bit more aware in your head.

That kiss was stupid. This whole thing is a disaster, Domi’s still blowing up your phone and there’s a cherry pit growing in your stomach.

You step out and Colson’s standing across by the door, tying together his sneaker laces. Rook’s nowhere to be found and you thank the universe for that, far too early to be dealing with his seemingly intense grudge against you.

“I got the keys,” is all you get before the front door is opening and you’re following him down the hallway into the elevator.

Stems from last night come back to you in flashes. The chime of the elevator doors, the apartment numbers passing by in a daze, a clammy hand clutching yours, butterfly kisses on knuckles.

You snap out of it quick as you step into the elevator, expertly avoiding the corner where you’d given in to your heart and kissed Colson for the first time. It feels like a bad omen, shadowy dark and taunting as you both stand in silence, watching the floor numbers pass by.

“Do you have gum?” he asks, and it’s crisp in the August heat, cuts through the stuffiness in the traveling metal box.

You shuffle into your purse from last night, pull out a pack of gum you’d stuck in there and offer it to him going, “You didn’t brush?”

“You hogged the bathroom and I thought you’d wanna get out of there quick,” he explains nonchalantly, popping a stick of mint into his mouth. You tuck the gum back in, try not to watch the way he twirls the wrapper around in his hands.

“Thanks,” you mutter, hoping he gets the intent of what you actually mean. He nods as the doors ding open.

The lobby is surprisingly full, people sitting on the plush couches and there’s a slight, “Fuck,” mumbled out before Colson’s finding your hand and pulling you towards the garage.

“What-“ you get out before he shushes you, head down as you two move quickly.

He doesn’t explain, but you follow along, wondering why he’s running, hiding like he’s done something wrong. The garage door opens and both of you cross to where AJ’s van’s sitting, slew of motorcycles parked beside it.

“We should take the bikes,” he says, but it sounds like he’s already made up his mind and he’s picking apart the keys in his hand, dragging you over to the motorcycles.

“No what’s going on?” you rush out, pulling your hand from his as he clicks the lock on one of the machines.

“There’s a couple of paparazzi lingering. Probably cause of last night, Tony usually calls up and lets us know to avoid the front doors but I guess they just got here,” he rashly explains, setting over the seat.

He looks good, you can’t deny it, like an action movie star in his element, hand on the bars, shoe propped on the side. There’s a smile growing, jaw moving as he chews and you take a mental picture, a secret memento just for you.

“I’m not getting on your stupid bike,” you sum out, turning away from where he’s gearing it up, sound echoing around the empty garage.

“Either you leave with me, or they take pictures of you and then you’re splashed across front pages, no longer a secret,” he states, and he’s moving the bike slowly alongside as you stubbornly walk back to the garage entrance.

The last statement is made to hit you, remind you that he did do something wrong, both of you did and there’s going to be a price you’ll have to pay.

You give him a look as he smiles, knowing he’s gotten you yet again.

“You’re famous enough for the front pages?” you crack at him and he laughs, shoulders shaking.

“Get on the bike Y/N,” he’s shifting forward, creating space on the back and this can’t be safe but the options are so limited that this is the best you’re going to get.

You swing a leg over, stumbling a little at the shift in gravity before settling onto the seat. It’s weird and he’s turning his head to make sure you’re secure before starting up again.

“Keep your hands on me,” he instructs, but you’re tired of following his rules and fold them cautiously on the sliver of seat in front of you.

It’s a mistake and you realize it as soon as he exits the garage. There’s no one on the street around and he’s gunning the speed, wind pulling your hair back, blowing straight at you.

“Holy shit,” you gasp before grabbing onto his shoulders. His arm twitches slightly as you grip the muscle and you can feel every single movement he does.

It’s a red light when he mumbles to you, “Move your hands lower.”

“Why?” you ask, finally comfortable with the way you’re holding onto him after a few streets of green lights.

“Can’t focus properly on the turns,” he says and you’re a little confused but the lights switching to green and there’s a honk right behind, startling you just a little.

You slide your hands down his back, take pleasure in the way it grounds you as he leans forward, swerving between slower cars.

He moves his back, angles it in one direction and you sort of get the hint, settle your hands on his hips like they do in all the cheesy rom-com movies. But this isn’t a movie, this is real life and there’s rules that aren’t supposed to be broken, consequences to face. The air around you turns sour, hits your throat hard and you’re closing your eyes in an effort to not vomit all over Colson.

It takes a few more minutes and he’s pulling into a barely there parking spot of some hole in the wall diner. You’ve never been here, despite living a few blocks away and you wonder why he’s brought you so close to home when that’s exactly where you should be avoiding.

The engine cuts and then he’s scooting back, your hands immediately lifting from his hips where they’d found a unfamiliar solace for the short drive.

“Think we’ll run into her?” he attempts at a joke and you want to scream, want to remind him this isn’t funny, this is seriously fucked.

“I’m gonna go home if you keep this up,” you grunt out, hopping off of the bike, feet glad to be planted on the floor.

“It’s not that serious,” he murmurs, locking his bike before walking to the entrance. You stare at his retreating back, picture punching the shit out of him, blink it away before following.

“Table for two,” he effortlessly grins, blowing a bubble with the stale gum. The waiter gives him an unimpressed look, picks up the two menus and leads you to a corner booth.

You slide in first, and he slides in right beside you, his side just barely touching your arm. The waiter attempts to smile but it seems halfhearted and you can’t help but stifle a laugh at that.

“Get on the other side. This isn’t a date,” you say after the waiter leaves.

“I like it here. You’re warm,” Colson mumbles, reaching for a menu and your heart thuds in its cavity, begging to be let out.

“Look this can’t happen. You’re my best friend’s ex for gods sake, she’d kill me if she even knew I was talking to you,” you ramble out, finger playing with the frayed edge of the table, unable to look at him.

“What is this?” he says.

When you don’t respond, he huffs before going, “Wonder what’d she do to you if she found out we fucked.”

The waiter pauses right before your table, two waters in his hand. He turns around and you stare at his back, will him to come back to save you this hell you’ve found yourself in.

“Colson I’m serious. Shut the fuck up for two seconds and think about it,” you mutter, voice lower so that the waiter can hopefully head your way again. Your throat feels parched, dust settling against your vocal cords.

“I am being serious. I don’t get why she’d care. She broke up with me, it’s been six fucking months. I thought we both moved on,” he states matter-of-factly, reaching over your hands to grab a sugar packet.

He twists it around on the table, pink packet spinning into a blur as you watch it, wondering what to say next.

“It’s messed up. We shouldn’t even have talked to each other,” you breathe out.

“Well we did. Y/N, you’ve always been my friend first. I wasn’t going to ignore you because Domi wouldn’t like it,” he stops the spinning packet with his palm, flattens it into table.

Your waters appear on the table, two straws tossed next to full cups with a, “Ready to order?”

“Give us a few?” Colson says, voice tilting up at the end posing it as question, confidence dripping into his words. There isn’t an answer but the waiter turns away.

“The only reason I know you is cause of her,” you truthfully respond.

“Doesn’t mean our entire relationship has to be based off of what she wants. She’s not good for you,” he grabs a straw, tearing the wrapper before dropping it into a glass and passing it over to you.

Your head’s still stuck on the word relationship, knows that he doesn’t mean it romantically but the thought of it still lingers.

“You can’t say that,” you mumble in response to his last few words.

“Okay. I can’t. But I can tell you that you deserve a best friend who doesn’t go around cutting off your friends because she doesn’t want to see them anymore,” his statement seems like a final word, laying itself in the open air.

The waiter’s walking back and you quickly order the first thing you see, some blueberry pancake special and pray it isn’t bad. He orders an omelet, customizes it and you listen at the ease of his words, how he sounds like he owns the place while specifying his veggies.

Your menu gets handed back over and you sip at the ice water, try not to gulp it down.

“I’m sorry if that was out of line,” he attempts, but you don’t want to hear it anymore, don’t want to break the train of thought in your head repeating his last phrase.

“Can we just- you know be normal for now?” you ask, voice small compared to his.

“Sure yeah. You like blueberries?” he switches so quick it almost gives you whiplash, even though you asked for it.

His arm’s on the booth cushion behind you head, you can feel it as you go to lean back and it feels too close to a date for comfort.

“No it was just the first thing I saw,” you say without really meaning to.

He laughs at that and you smile too, easing into a neutral state.

“What if it’s gross? You know blueberries can freeze in just four minutes,” he spits out and you feel his leg bump against yours at the fun fact.

“Why do you know that?” you huff, eyes going to watch him speak.

“Read an article once,” he seems awfully pleased with himself and you roll your eyes muttering, “Glad to see you know how to read.”

He nudges you hard at that and you fall deeper into him somehow, find yourself tucked right into his side.

“You weren’t this mean to me last night,” he says pointedly, lifting his glass up.

“I wasn’t hungover last night,” you retort, or addled with guilt your mind adds silently.

“Oh shit, I forgot,” and then he’s ruffling through his pockets mumbling, “I thought I had some Advil in here.”

“No thanks, keep your pocket drugs. I’ll just sleep it off at home,” you say, although the idea of home and Domi just makes you queasy.

Two full plates are gently placed in front of you, steaming and fresh. You eye the purple blue dots on your pancakes suspiciously, hoping the taste isn’t as dark as the mosaic it creates visually.

Colson’s omelette looks incredible, cheese and vibrant red tomatoes popping off the plate and you want to taste it, see if its as good as he made it sound.

“I forgot you don’t get hungover,” you mumble, last few bits of the previous conversation slipping through before you lose yourself in the meal.

“Life of a rockstar,” he laughs out before grabbing his fork.

“Humble rockstar,” you laugh back as he clinks his silverware against yours.

The pancakes taste exactly and how they look and your tastebuds struggle in figuring out a flavor pattern. It’s bursts of sour, before buttery goodness and sugary maple. You demolish an entire pancake before realizing you’re out with a friend.

“You want some?” you mumble, chewing over a bite.

He watches you inquisitively from where he sits, fork dancing over his own plate. You will yourself not to blush under his gaze, almost choke on the piece tucked into your mouth.

He pulls off a piece, bites into it and you see his face twist up as he goes, “What is that?”

“Probably frozen blueberries,” you reply and his eyes light up at the recalling of his words as he swallows down the pancake.

“Terrible,” he mumbles, sipping on the dark coffee he’s ordered.

Colson’s a coffee freak, particular about the sugar levels, the amount of ice that goes into his drink, even the origin of the coffee beans. You’d learned this early on as he refused to participate in Starbuck runs, grunted in distaste when you would show up at his apartment, carrying a frappe, Domi sipping happily at her own.

The food finishes quick, you’ve taken bites of his omelette, trying not to praise the medley of flavors he’s somehow incorporated into an egg. He hasn’t cooked it of course, but you would never be able to combine options to come up with this type of breakfast.

He reluctantly finishes your last pancake, dousing it in syrup and making faces with every bite, mostly to make you laugh. His fingers are sticky and he lets them slide together before pulling them apart, string of maple connecting them, his eyebrows raising smirkingly towards you. You push him hard at the innuendo.

The bill comes around and goes back faster than you can react. He pays it quickly and quietly, not even letting you attempt at it. There’s a slight rush that overcomes you at that, you’ve always know he was generous, but this is different from late night McDonalds with the bros, slightly more personal.

He gets up to wash his hands after the mess he’s created and you shake your head at the pure stickiness of his hand as he walks away.

You pull your phone out, knowing you’ll regret it as soon as you catch sight of the time. You’ve been here with Colson for over an hour.

They flow of text messages from your roommate vary in subject, but near the end there’s no emojis, capital letters reflecting back at you and you know she’s mad, can feel it rolling off the screen. This is going to a bitch to hide.

“You should unblock my number while you have it out,” Colson suggests, voice startling you.

“Should I?” you wonder, more to hear it out loud to yourself than actually ask him.

He shrugs but his intentions are clear as he says, “Wouldn’t hurt now, would it?”

“What would you even text me?” you quiz this time, pointer finger tapping at the sides of your phone.

“Don’t know. Cool things. Fun facts,” he rattles off as if he’s creating a shoddy list in his head.

“Convincing,” you laugh before going to your settings. The blocked numbers stare up at you, at least five of them on that list unfairly.

You find his, the first one blocked all the way at the bottom and swipe.

Unblock? your phone asks, as if knowing you’re having trouble with this decision, second thoughts about something as trivial as a phone number.

Yes, you tap and then the list decreases automatically.

“Done,” you say, putting your phone back into your pocket.

“Good,” he hums before offering you his hand.

You take it, weirdly knowing this is the last time you will. He lets your intertwined fingers fall between the two of you, swings them just a little, hitting them against your legs as if he’s just as aware of the finality of it all too.

You take a breath, walk towards the exit. The doors open and you both step out, get down the steps and towards his bike.

You drop his hand first, look up at him, whisper, “I’m going to walk home.”

He doesn’t protest, you can’t tell if he wants to, but you secretly hope he does, in some twisted selfish way.

“Okay,” is all you get back from him and then he’s getting on his bike.

You don’t look back as his engine roars to life, or when you hear the telltale zoom of him speeding away. You feel sick, but remind yourself to keep walking, put as much distance between this mistake as you can.

Your heart aches at the word mistake, cracks the minute you can’t hear the motorcycle anymore, too far gone to even be white noise for your walk of shame home. This has to happen, you remind yourself, staring at the gum stains on the sidewalk. You’re going to be fine.

taglist: @iamdorka @no-shxt-sherl @bakerkells @findingmyths @rosegoldrichie @mayaslifeinabox @itjustkindahappenedreally @hnbtx @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @sophroniaa @enchantedamusedslightlyconfused @calum-defense-squad

#mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #mgk fanfic #machine gun kelly fluff #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly fanfiction #mgk smut #mgk lockscreen #mgk headers #colson baker x reader #colson baker fanfic #colson baker fluff #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker smut #m writes 4 mgk

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spicycreativity · 3 years

Text

Intertwined - Chapter 4

Chapter: 4/8

Additional Notes: My AO3, WizardGlick, is 3 chapters ahead on this. Critical thinking exercise: Read the following Twin Peaks quote and consider how it related to Intertwined and to post-PoF as a whole:

WINDOM EARLE: What do you fear most in the world?

MAJOR BRIGGS: The possibility that love is not enough.

Chapter Content Warnings: Again, it's a hanahaki fic.

Excerpt: "Here's what I want you to do," Janus said, and his voice was surprisingly tender given the hard look on his face. "Cook for yourself. Don't make something you can take to the others later. Don't make something to share with me. I'm giving you a free pass to be selfish."

Yesterday, Patton supposed, could have gone worse. He had haunted the kitchen after his departure from Janus, begging the mindscape for some sort of hint. Like the answer to all their troubles was lurking in Thomas’ subconscious, just out of reach.

When morning came, he returned to Roman and Logan's rooms, was again rebuffed, and so floated back to the kitchen, made himself some coffee, and sat down at the counter. Again, he reached out with his mind for some kind of reassurance. He had to fix this. There had to be something he could do.

A 5,000 piece puzzle appeared in front of Patton. The image on the box was that of dogs playing poker, captioned A Friend in Need. The subconscious was funny sometimes, in a way that made Patton feel kind of sick and hollow. He opened the box and shook the puzzle pieces put onto the counter. It was a way to pass the time, at least.

A few hours crawled by. Patton’s hands began to shake from the caffeine, and he knew he should eat something, but… It almost didn’t seem worth the effort. He was happy to cook for his fam-ILY, but, when it was just him, what was the point? He put down another edge piece and flinched at the sudden appearance of Virgil in front of the coffee pot. Virgil had made himself scarce after yesterday’s meeting, only reappearing to turn down Patton’s offer of dinner. Patton couldn’t even blame him. How terrible, to wake up after a bad day and find your friends inconsolable and enemies at your door.

“Hi,” Patton said. Finding faux-happiness out of reach, he settled for ‘not completely miserable’ instead.

“Did you eat?” Virgil asked, pouring coffee into a purple mug decorated with this logo.

Patton saw no reason to lie, not about this. “Not yet. I got a little distracted.”

“Mm-hm,” said Virgil.

“Listen,” Patton said, already getting up to make toast. “Are you okay?”

Virgil shrugged and opened up another cabinet. “Want some orange juice?”

"Um, sure." Patton got out the bread and popped a few slices into the toaster. "Thank you."

"No prob." Virgil stood on his toes and got down two glasses, pivoted to the fridge for the orange juice.

"It's just," Patton said, "You don’t seem very upset?" It wasn't that Virgil was necessarily acting upbeat , but… Well, Patton had been expecting something more intense than Virgil's baseline levels of casualty.

"I am," Virgil said. "But I also want orange juice."

"Oh." Patton fell silent. His own feelings were so big and loud in his head they didn't really leave room for anything else. In the light of everything that had happened, Virgil's response felt cold. Patton had half a mind to tell him so, except that… Well, he had no room to talk about 'proper' emotional responses to things. If this was how Virgil wanted to navigate the situation, that was his right. "Did you talk to Roman yesterday?"

"Sorta." Virgil put the orange juice back, scooted a glass to Patton, and took a seat on the counter. "He said he wasn't ready to talk, but might be soon."

"To you?"

"Yeah." Virgil's expression was cloudy. "To me."

"That's a lot," Patton said, treading cautiously. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Virgil's knuckles went white around his glass, so much that Patton was worried he might break it. "Oh, there's plenty I want to say," he said darkly. "To you and to-- to him."

"Janus," Patton said, feeling it important, somehow, to say his name.

"Yeah. To Janus."

"You can," Patton said. "To me. I won't get mad."

"I just don't understand!" Virgil said, the words exploding from his chest. "What did he say to you to make you trust him? After everything he did to Roman, to you, to Thomas! What did he say?" It was almost a plea, "What did he say?"

"I already told you, kiddo," Patton said, poking at the water droplets collecting on the side of his glass, unable to remember that they were called. Logan would know. "I made a choice to trust him."

"But why ?"

"I don't know, I just-- I felt something. I don't know if I can explain it in a way you can understand. I just got it. I understood what it was all for. "

"So, what, he just gets a free pass for treating us all like crap? Just gets to talk his way out of consequences?"

"Well, no." Patton kicked the toes of his loafers against the molding under the counter. "But I don't know that it would do any good to… punish him? Be cold, be mean, yell at him. What's done is done. I'm not asking you to forgive him."

"Good, 'cause I don't."

"But I also need you to understand that I made my choice and I'm committing to it. I…" Patton smiled sadly, gazing at the countertop without really seeing it. "I gave my word, in a way."

"Fine," Virgil growled. "But if he hurts you, if he does what he did to Roman and Logan, I swear, I swear--" Patton covered his ears briefly and Virgil seemed to get the message. "Well. I'll avenge you."

"Thanks, Virgil." Patton smiled again, happier this time, and looked Virgil in the face. It really wasn't all that long ago that he had thought of Virgil as an enemy. And now look at them. "I'm proud of you, you know."

"You are?"

"Of course I am! You've been a really good friend to, to all of us. And I'm so happy--"

"Stop," Virgil said, pulling up his hood. "Stop, stop, stop."

"Aw, did I make you blush?" Patton teased.

"Yeah," Virgil said, his voice breaking on that one syllable. He cleared his throat. "Let's not-- I'm gonna--"

"Is something wrong?" Patton asked, already reaching out for a hug. Virgil couldn't see him with his face buried in his hood, so Patton stopped short and let his arms fall to his sides.

"I just, uh." Virgil took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, swept his hood back with a jerky motion. "Sometimes I don't feel like I deserve all this."

"Oh, kiddo, of course you do!" Patton said, again holding out his arms for a hug. Virgil instead held out his hand, and Patton took it in his own, determined to communicate all the love and devotion he could through that simple contact. He smiled at the matching weave of their friendship bracelets, smiled at the memory of sitting side-by-side with Virgil as they both struggled with five-strand braids.

Virgil nodded, and his breathing was still shaky and spastic when he said, "I'm gonna go-- I'm not going off to cry all by myself, if, uh, if you're worried about that. I just need… Uh. Yeah."

Patton nodded, hurriedly snatching the half-cooked toast from the toaster and imagining it smeared with Crofter’s and butter, arranged neatly on a plate. "Okay!" He said with false cheer, passing the plate to Virgil. "Come get me if you need anything! Maybe we can watch Ghost Adventures tonight."

"Sounds good," Virgil said, slightly muffled around his hand, as he was chewing at his thumbnail. "Later." He sank out.

Patton sighed and stared at their untouched orange juice glasses. Even when he was trying to fix things, he made people upset.

A drop of water slid down the side of Virgil's glass, pooled on the countertop. Patton stared at it as another followed.

What did it truly mean to deserve something, anyway? It was something Janus would probably have an opinion on. He seemed to have opinions on most things. Maybe Patton could ask him in a bit.

“Did you need me for something?

Oh, okay, or Patton could ask him now. He turned, unsmiling to Janus. It wasn’t that he wasn’t cheered by Janus’ presence, but that he had no reason to lie. Janus had made it abundantly clear that he wasn't depending on Patton for anything. “Sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to steal you.”

“No harm, no foul,” Janus said, and sighed so heavily his breath displaced a few puzzle pieces. “As you can see, I was hard at work.” Despite this claim, he wore a hard, annoyed expression and Patton remembered with a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was dealing with a liar. "Did you need help with your puzzle?" Janus asked.

Just like that, Patton's heart leapt. "You'll stay?"

Janus shrugged. "I suppose I can clear a space in my schedule."

Patton stood to get him some coffee. The pot was empty, but it was simple enough to imagine it full again. Ordinarily, he disliked the laziness of misusing Thomas' imagination, but he couldn't deny that it was convenient sometimes. He could tell he was on the brink of annoying Janus (somehow) and didn't want to risk pushing him over the edge. "Have you eaten?"

"Have you?" Janus asked, side-eyeing the remaining slices of toast sitting in the toaster. Patton had forgotten all about them.

"I guess it slipped my mind," Patton turned around and set a coffee mug on the counter in front of Janus, then rounded it to sit down again. He tried not to notice that Janus had scooted his chair away from Patton's, that he leaned on his elbow so they were even farther apart.

"Hm," said Janus, making a face. He didn't push it, and Patton was grateful for that. "Oh, and thank you."

"Of course," Patton said.

He watched Janus for a moment. He handled the puzzle pieces with difficulty, his gloves impeding his ability to pick them up. When he realized he was staring, he turned away and started fitting more edge pieces into place.

He couldn't decide if the quiet was pleasant or awkward. It was kind of nice, kind of domestic, sitting here with Janus, but he couldn't help but feel a kind of tension in the air.

Then Janus turned away and started coughing. Patton reached out to put a hand on his back, caught himself, pulled away. The deep, jagged sound made him cringe. He was no stranger to coughing fits, none of them were, brought on by Thomas' cat allergy. But this had come out of nowhere.

"You okay?" Patton asked when Janus resurfaced. Maybe he was just projecting, but he thought Janus looked a little pale on his human side.

"It's warmer today, isn't it?" Janus said, not looking at Patton.

"Huh?"

"It's not as cold. Roman seems to have gotten ahold of himself somewhat."

"Um, yeah, I guess." Patton furrowed his brow, trying to get a good look at Janus. "But Janus, are you okay?"

"Fine," said Janus. "Just inhaled some coffee, that's all."

But his hands shook as he slid a blue puzzle piece down the counter, and Patton was already halfway out of his seat before he even realized what he was doing. "You know, I think I will make breakfast."

"A little late now," Janus said. "By the way, did you really call me all the way down here just to work on a puzzle?"

"So brunch, then," Patton said. "And to be honest, no."

"Oh, do be honest," Janus said, leaning against the counter and resting his chin in his palm.

But Patton's priorities had shifted beyond philosophical debate. He had to take care of Janus now, get him comfortable, get him honest. He had to. "It's not important anymore."

"Hm," said Janus. He cleared his throat quietly, winced. "Well, now I'm not curious at all."

"It's okay," Patton said, trying for a reassuring smile. "We can talk about it later." He spun around, trying to decide what to make. Toast sounded wholly unappealing now, and he should choose something that would be easy on Janus' throat--

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, by the way," Janus said.

"Making brunch?" Patton said with faux-innocence.

"Mm-hm. And what did you have in mind?"

"Soup."

"Patton," Janus said in a chastising tone. "I don't need you to take care of me. I need you to take care of you."

"That cough sounded like it hurt," Patton said, defeated.

Janus sat back and spread his arms out as though to show himself to Patton. "It did. It went away on its own. I'm fine."

Patton wasn't sure what to say to that. He scratched at his friendship bracelets, embarrassed. "Oh."

"Here's what I want you to do," Janus said, and his voice was surprisingly tender given the hard look on his face. "Cook for yourself. Don't make something you can take to the others later. Don't make something to share with me. I'm giving you a free pass to be selfish."

"But that's wrong!" Patton said reflexively. He regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but it wasn't like he could take them back. "Not for you," he hastened to explain. "That's your job. But me?"

"I can't very well be selfish for you," Janus said. He seemed annoyed, digging his fingers into both sides of his midriff in a way that looked decidedly painful. "Just try it. It won't be the end of the world."

And Patton wanted to. He didn't want to let Janus down, but… Where did it end? Where did it stop?

"Patton," Janus said. "I can see you catastrophizing."

"Sorry," said Patton, feeling close to tears. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I just… I don't know who I am or what I want or if I'm even allowed to want."

"Breakfast, Patton. That's all. One little thing."

"Okay," Patton took a deep breath. Calm down. Make food. He could do that.

"There's nothing else," Janus said. "Just us, right now. Just this room. No consequences."

"Okay," Patton said. Cinnamon rolls. He wanted mini cinnamon rolls.

"Good," said Janus. "You're okay." He cleared his throat again, coughed a little behind closed lips. Patton forced himself not to notice, knowing that it would make Janus annoyed if he pointed it out or tried to help.

"I hope so," Patton muttered, half to himself, as he got his ingredients together. A phrase popped into his head and he shouted it out impulsively, "Mise en place!"

"Bless you?" Janus said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no." Patton smiled. "Getting all your ingredients together. Mise en place."

"Ah," said Janus. He smiled too, his human eye crinkling at the corner. Patton almost sighed at the sight. Janus seemed to hold himself above human standards sometimes. He presented himself as something cold and pure, unbreakable and untouchable and utterly perfect. There was something so beautiful about seeing him step down from the pedestal. Janus seemed to notice Patton staring and turned away, surprisingly demure. "How about some music?"

A turntable appeared on the counter, spinning something inoffensive and charmingly lo-fi. "That's nice," Patton said. He didn't recognize the artist, but it didn't really matter. The music seemed to slide into the cracks of their conversation, filling out the empty spaces and projecting calm throughout the kitchen.

So Patton made cinnamon rolls and Janus worked on the puzzle while he sipped his coffee, and they both pretended not to notice the ragged coughs that Janus couldn't bury under the music no matter how hard he tried.

#moceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #spicywrites #spicywrites intertwined

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the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

It Happened on Sakaar Pt. 3

Mando x Asgardian!F!Reader; Loki x Asgardian!F!Reader

Rating: M; 18+ Only

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: cursing, angst, slow burn, pining, mentions of violence, 18+ in later chapters

Summary: The bounty hunter’s most recent puck sends him across the Galaxy to an unfamiliar and artificial planet named Sakaar- literally the galaxy’s trash can. Sakaar is a bizarre planet, but so is his most recent bounty. Din is chasing a man he only knows as The God of Mischief. The reader lives on Sakaar as a scrapper, a similar trade to that of a bounty hunter and has a tangled history with the man Mando is looking for. Will the unlikely duo team up to capture the mischievous Asgardian or will the reader fall victim to Loki’s promises?

A/N:

IMPORTANT UPDATE

I made a Google form to be added to my taglists, so if you want to be added, the link is in my bio. I’ll only be adding people to the list if they requested to be added by filling out the form! This way all of the requests are just in one place so I don’t miss requests! Thank you!!!

So sorry this chapter is a little short! It’s a little bit of a filler chapter to establish some things before more events start to unfold.

This is unedited and if I missed anything that I should include as a warning please let me know! Thank you y’all!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

You resolved to see Thor as soon as you could. As soon as it was light the following morning, you dressed quickly, and headed to where you thought he would be kept. There was a small hospital wing inside the same building where the gladiators were kept. You figured you would try there first and with any luck he’d still be there. The walk was short, and you kept your head down to avoid any attention to the fact a scrapper was heading to the hospital wing to see one of the gladiators.

Some of these fighters were creatures you brought to the Grandmaster. You’re sure none of them would be too happy seeing you again, and so you kept your head down as you walked past the area where they stayed. This part of your life disgusted you. You never allowed yourself to focus too much on it because if it wasn’t them, it would be you. It was cruel, and a very harsh world the Grandmaster has made. But for you, you’ve heard the rumors of what happens to female captives, and you know even though you’re leading a terrible career- it is better than any other fate you would have faced on this planet.

When you arrive, there are no one in the beds that line the walls of the room. There are a few workers, dressed in basic medical uniforms and they refuse to give you any information on Thor’s whereabouts. They claimed he was never brought there, but part of you seriously doubts them. Discouraged, you head back out to the main area of the building and decide to head towards Mando’s hotel. However, something really peculiar stops you.

“Hello there, might I just say that weapon of yours is some mighty fine-looking artillery,” said the voice. He was overly positive, and he spoke in a very unique accent, like every final syllable of each word he spoke was raised. “My name is Korg.”

You turn your head quickly towards the voice, and there he was. A tall, blueish gray rock creature waving to you like a school child behind the electric barrier. He was clearly one of the gladiators, you recognized him from the fights. Your chuckle is involuntary because his voice and his way of carrying himself does not match the stature of stone.

“Hi Korg,” you say puzzled. “I’m Scrapper 451.”

“Please to meet you, this here is Meek.” Only then did you notice the significantly shorter creature standing beside him. You couldn’t even begin to describe Meek, maybe like a walking catfish? “We heard you were looking for Thor.”

“You know Thor?” you ask, spirits lifting as you take a step closer to the barrier. “He’s my friend,” you explain, “I need to find him.”

“Ah well,” Korg explains, “You see there was a lot of disgruntlement after the fight. People weren’t sure how to call the fight, seeing as how the Grandmaster intercepted as he does. Some people were saying Thor should be the new champion and the Grandmaster was saying his Champion is the champion so for now until they know what to do with the Lord of Thunder, they are keeping in the Room of Champions.”

“They thought having them share a bedroom was a good idea?” you ask, your eyes widening.

“You know that you say it like that, it doesn’t seem like the best decision,” Korg nods, and Meek makes some noise in agreement, you can only assume.

“Why are you helping me?” you ask, looking up to meet his eyes.

“Well, all in the name of friendship,” Korg shrugs, “Thor is my friend.”

“Thank you, Korg,” you say earnestly, and he nods in response, rolling his shoulders back like he just won some sort of war hero.

“Anything for the cause!” he shouts triumphantly, as you walk away. You check the time on the time piece on your wrist. It was getting later in the morning and you needed to find Thor before the day began. You took the nearest lift in the building and rode it up to the top floor to the penthouse where they kept the Champion.

As you approached the room, you saw the large green figure was sleeping soundly in the very large bed. You saw how gaudy the room was, painted starkly in red and white. It was a little bit of an eye sore, but it was decorated with the Grandmaster’s eye, no doubt. You walked up to the doorway and you saw Thor, sleeping on the ground, as a few girls tended to his wounds. You waited until they were done and he was awake before you made yourself known.

“Your majesty,” you whispered, hoping he would hear you. The man turned his head and his eyes widened and his booming voice echoed through the whole room. You rolled your eyes at his inability to be subtle. Did he not realize he was his own worst enemy? He called your name happily and ushered you to enter. He engulfed you in a grizzly hug. It was honestly very comforting. You had missed your friend.

“You won’t believe the past few days since you’ve left,” Thor tries to quickly explain.

“Wait. Wait. What do you mean?” you ask puzzled.

“When you went through the Bifrost a few days ago,” he began again, trying to hurriedly fill you in on the details of Hela, and all that was happening back home.

“Thor, what do you mean? I’ve been on Sakaar for the past two years,” you explain.

“You left two or three days ago,” Thor states, his confusion evident on his face.

“Loki has been here for a few weeks,” you add.

“I don’t have an explanation, but you need to understand that Loki and I were thrown from the Bifrost by Hela at the same time. Loki thrown out only seconds before me. Time obviously works different here. You need to believe me that to us, you haven’t even been gone a week,” Thor says. You don’t know how to process this information yet.

The whole time you’d been here, thinking they’d all just chose to let you leave. You thought they didn’t care enough to come find you, after all you did for the throne. Now, after two years of sitting with this, you learn for them it’s been two goddamn days and somehow the Goddess of Death has returned the day after you left?

“Loki was going to follow you,” Thor explains, “but I made him come with me to find our father. I needed him to show me where he had left Odin. I know you can understand that.”

“Of course,” you say, “But Loki has been here for weeks, and never sought me out.”

Thor scoffs, muttering how it was typical of the god of mischief. He looks at you apologetically, and you can see tears welling behind his eyes, from all he has gone through since the last time you had seen him. He mutters something about his hammer before burying his face into your neck to hug you again tightly.

“There’s something I need to do,” you tell him, as you try to comfort him by rubbing his back.

“When I’m done, we’ll get you back to Asgard,” you insist.

“This can’t wait,” Thor interjects. “I need a way to leave now. Actually, I have a wrench in the plan as well,” he continues, looking over to the sleeping monster on the bed. “He’s got to come with me.”

“What why?” you ask, stepping forward to sneak a peak at the sleeping green creature.

“He’s one of the Avengers, he’s trapped here too,” Thor explains.

“The ones you told us about from Earth?” you ask. “I didn’t realize Midgardians could look like that.”

“No, no it’s just the one,” Thor explains, “I think.”

“What about Loki?” you ask, your mind returning to the promise you made to Mando.

“He seems content to stay here,” Thor sighs, and you scoff. Seemed like a simple enough plan for you and Thor to manage, you’d help Mando with the bounty, Thor and the Hulk could secure a ship. Everyone can win.

“In the meantime,” you say not wanting to dwell on Loki, “You help your friend and try to secure us a ship, I’ll take care of what I have to do and we can find each other after that.

“Okay,” Thor agrees, and you hug him tightly one more time before heading off to meet with Mando. You check the time, and you hustle to make it, not even saying a hello to Scrapper 142 as you pass her in the hallway.

Mando sat in him room anxiously. He had let is emotions get the better of him, and he was spiraling in his own state of paranoia you would betray him. He was worried you would have gone to Loki, and told him of the fact a bounty hunter was here and after him. Perhaps, you reunited with him and you fell back into a relationship with him. He chastised himself. He shouldn’t care what you do, and it’s his own fault for trusting you with information about his job.

He stayed up late with the kid last night, this planet was no place to be traveling with a child, and he knew he was not being fair to him. The little guy had a hard time sleeping last night, and Mando stayed up with him, and even stayed awake long after the kid had fallen asleep just in case, he woke up again.

The knock on the other side of the door, took him out of his thoughts and he felt guilty for thinking you wouldn’t show. You arrived only a few minutes later than he was supposed to expect you and he blames himself for how he took your tardiness as a sign of disloyalty.

“Sorry,” you say a little out of breath, “I needed to talk to Thor and I received more information about why they are here. It has nothing to do with who hired you or why you were sent here.”

“That’s alright,” Mando says, looking at you. He felt flushed under the helmet, embarrassed like you had caught him thinking of you as a traitor.

“But I don’t need to bother you with any of that,” you say, sounding like you are trying to cover your own distress. “We should talk about the plan regarding Loki.”

“Yeah,” Mando agrees, but he wants to ask you what is wrong. Clearly whatever happened with Thor has you upset and he wants to help you.

“There’s a party coming up,” you say, “similar to the one you infiltrated before. I’m sure Loki in his attempts to get close to the Grandmaster should be there. I have to be there anyways. Same reason.”

Mando can’t help himself when the image of when he ran into you before enters his mind. Whatever crush he had he needed to get over it. For his own sake, yours, the kid… Letting his emotions and his own attraction to you affect his decisions was going to be detrimental. It wasn’t fair to put his own feelings first. He needed to keep them at bay, at least until the bounty was caught. He tells himself its because you’re helping him and not looking for anything in return, and the fact that his last relationship was with a deranged twi years ago. He’s not used to niceness with no strings attached. It also doesn’t help that you’re probably the most beautiful being he’s ever seen- no. He’s not letting himself go there.

“Thor told me that Loki had wanted to come for me,” you continue, “I think that’s something we could take advantage of.”

“Wasn’t it years ago?” he asks.

“Apparently not to them,” you sigh, taking a seat on a chair that was opposite him. The child fussed and tugged on your pant leg. You looked to Mando for permission before scooping up the baby in your arms. He cooed happily and you stroke his ears gently. “Time must work differently here,” you try rationalize, “Thor said I only left two days ago. He said Loki wanted to follow me, but Thor needed him.”

“So, two years here, has been the equivalent of two days back on your home planet?”

“Basically,” you sigh, “But I think I can use that to my advantage. Loki hasn’t had the time to get over things between me and him like I’ve had. If Thor was telling the truth, maybe Loki thinks he has a chance of getting me back and I let him think he can. Maybe I can get his guard down.”

“Are you sure?” Mando asks, concern evident in his tone. You manage a half smile, appreciating that at least he seemed to care. It was sweet, and something you had gone without for the past two years. Which for your lifetime, that wasn’t that long, but a year on Asgard with your friends, the richness of that life, is much shorter than the grueling day to day of your life on Sakaar.

“Yes, we capture Loki, and then I’ll return to Asgard with Thor,” you resolve, although you actually aren’t sure you want to return to Asgard. It was your home planet, but the place hadn’t felt like your home in a long time. However, you can’t just stay here forever, you are starting to realize. Maybe you’d go to Earth, or maybe some other planet. Somewhere a little kinder than this one. Hell, maybe you could manage a ship and be a nomad- just go where ever the galaxy sent you. Maybe you could hitch a ride with Mando? In exchange for helping him capture Loki. “Maybe I’ll go somewhere else. I’m not sure.”

Mando bites his tongue to keep him from inviting you with him. That was not something he thought would be something you’d want. The child cuddled up in your arms, he takes the opportunity to look at you, closely. You’re so good with him and it makes him wonder if you and him could continue to work together after this job. He could take you away from this planet and the people from your past that keep showing up to haunt you. You could help him raise the child until he’s able to return him to the Jedi. The time he’s traveled in isolation is weighing heavy on him, and he knows he will do better with a partner. He needs you.

Taglist:

@msclifford @doctoreuphoria @gloryekaterina @sassy-kassaay @oh-oh-oh-its-magic @letsfly-andbe-free

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

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Always in a hurry, damit. Language warning on this one.

For @soniabigcheese cos she did it.

-o-o-o-

All three brothers sat down on the lounge, Scott directly next to Virgil and Gordon one seat over.

They were hovering.

He shunted the reason why aside.

Staring up at his holographic brother, he found himself missing John in the flesh. Instinct wanted to draw his family close and keep them safe from whatever the hell was going on, but John, as always, was far, far above them.

Alone.

“Can I tell him now?”

Well, maybe not quite alone.

“Eos!”

“It’s not fair to Virgil. You tell me to be honest and open and yet you treat your brother like this? Not very consistent at all.”

Virgil stared at John and his brother suddenly appeared uncomfortable.

Turquoise eyes darted to Virgil’s left...and back.

On Virgil’s right, Gordon sat up straight. “What is going on?”

Already barely composed, Virgil continued to stare up at John as the astronaut fidgeted before sighing and letting his shoulders drop. His eyes darted once again to Virgil’s left and the engineer knew who was truly hiding something.

Honestly, he had had his suspicions. Scott had been acting weird since London and the roof.

Hovering.

Was it logical to avoid looking at his eldest brother? As if not seeing eye to eye could avoid discovering something he knew he really didn’t want to know.

But he did.

“What did you find out?” The words were pushed through his larynx and his vocal cords creaked.

“Virgil-“

He spun where he sat. “For fuck’s sake, Scott, what is it?!”

Shocked silence as blue eyes widened. One advantage of being the sensible and stable one was when you did crack, it had impact.

Calmer. “What are you hiding from me?”

Young and flippant. “It’s quite simple really-“

“Eos!” John’s tone was sharp enough to cut cahelium.

Virgil turned back to his holographic brother. “No, John. Let her speak.”

“Virgil-“

He cut his brother off. “Eos, report!”

“Okay.” Her high-pitched voice was almost eager with glee. “I found something. It was quite a challenge. Triple layer encryption, hidden, not even on a hard-wired network. I had to sneak in on a mobile connection and decode onsite.” She was obviously quite proud of herself. “John was impressed.”

John obviously wasn’t quite as impressed right now, his arms folded across his chest, his expression both sad and pissed off at the same time.

Virgil forced what little calm he had left. “What did you find, Eos?”

“Notes. From a meeting. Not very legible. Her handwriting is atrocious.”

“Whose?”

“Councillor Wainwright. Honestly, her phone is a mess.”

“You hacked a World Security Council phone?”

“Hmph. Hacked is such a human concept. I simply visited.”

He refused to look at Scott. Refused. “What did you find?”

“A photo of notes. A short list of International Rescue’s vulnerabilities.”

“Vulnerabilities?” Gordon was definitely stoking a fire. Virgil was unsure whether the note-taker or a couple of brothers were going to be the ones roasted. “What vulnerabilities?”

A photograph of scrawled notes appeared beside John. Paper was rare and obviously used for security reasons, but to then photograph it and turn it digital…someone was an idiot.

Virgil frowned at the barely legible handwriting. The letters ‘IR’ were scribbled at the top, Five Tracy names scrawled below, each crossed out except for Virgil. Scott’s and Gordon’s name had the word military in capital letters next to them. ‘Space’ was written next to John and Gordon.

Further down the page, almost at random in relation to the rest of the scribble, was the word ‘Vulnerabilities’. Underneath was a list. A very short list.

1. Popular opinion

2. Political standing

3. Virgil Tracy

Something else was scrawled next to his name, but it was illegible having been crossed out quite vehemently.

Virgil swallowed. “Who wrote this?”

It was John who spoke up, his voice wary and a little hesitant. “Handwriting matches Wainwright’s.”

“Why?”

“It’s bullshit, Virgil.” Finally, Scott said something.

Virgil turned to face him. “Yet, you hid it from me.” The hovering. The visit to Jack.

Jack.

“You told Jack.”

“Of course, I told Jack.” Scott threw himself to his feet, obviously unable to contain himself any longer. “It’s a threat from the government. Our own government, Virgil.”

John cut in. “No, it is from one councillor.”

“One bitch.” Gordon was on his feet now, echoing his eldest brother with his furious energy, unable to keep still. “Wainwright obviously has an agenda. An agenda that doesn’t care about those sixty-three people!”

Virgil flinched.

“We have no proof that Wainwright is connected to today’s incident.”

“Circumstances disagree, John.” Gordon was glaring up at his holographic brother. “I find it hard to believe that Thunderbird Two’s scanners being messed with and the resultant media shitstorm is not related to this. Too much of a coincidence. They’re targeting Virg to take us down!”

“Gordon!” Scott’s voice cut across the room.

Virgil let it all wash over him. He was being used, he was a vulnerability, but that wasn’t the important thing.

Not important.

He pushed himself to his feet. Gravity seemed more of an opponent than usual. He straightened up, looking up at his holographic brother as if he was some deity offering answers.

“Why?”

“You’re not a vulnerability, Virgil.” John’s voice was soft and concerned.

Virgil had no patience for it and waved it away. “No, why are they doing this? Why does someone, Wainwright or whoever, want us out of the picture?”

“Because they want to replace us.” Eos’ voice was far too chirpy and bright for the topic of conversation.

“Eos, tact.”

“What? Oh. Sorry. Please let me rephrase.” A moment that allowed John’s lips to thin just that touch more, the tightly strung muscles in his shoulders prominent enough to stand out in relief despite his uniform. “There is a possibility that the World Security Council is seeking expressions of interest from business entities interested in providing first responder services for the government.”

Virgil blinked.

Beside him, Scott shifted. “What? John? Explain.” Virgil didn’t have to look at Scott to know the frown would be cavernous.

Their space brother sighed. “Eos has tracked a number of gaps in calendars, meetings that didn’t happen, several coincidences that are far too coincidental to be genuine. Lady Creighton-Ward Senior contacted me about half an hour ago with some information that confirmed my suspicions.” There was something in John’s expression.

Scott frowned. “What aren’t you telling me?”

John looked down a moment as if steeling himself. “You know Lady Penelope identified several upper echelon GDF suspects following the Janus incident.” His eyes latched onto Scott’s as if in challenge. “What you don’t know is that we have had them under surveillance since that time.”

“We?” Scott’s tone was cold.

“IR security.” John’s tone was unapologetic. “Kayo, Lady Penelope and myself. There were things we needed to know.”

“And I didn’t?”

“Not at the time.” John shrugged, but Virgil could see it was forced nonchalance. There would be discussions later, but to be honest, Virgil hadn’t expected anything less.

Virgil ignored Scott. “Who is involved?”

“Wainwright, General Strond and the CEO of Robotics Industries, Jim Lucas. Eos has only just now collected enough data to confirm the connection. Lady Creighton-Ward’s advice backed up the conclusion.”

Scott was a pent-up explosion waiting to happen beside him.

Virgil just felt numb. He held out a hand. “So, these people want us replaced. They’ve found our...weaknesses...” Gordon literally snarled beside him. “...and they have succeeded in shutting us down. The question remains...why?!” And if that last syllable came out louder and a little more desperate, so be it.

John shrugged. “As Parker said, ‘Power’.” His brother frowned and looked off to his left, a hand poking hidden buttons. “And, I suspect, control. We are free agents, not under any direct chain of command. We are an unpredictable variable. You do realise how much power we can wield, Virgil?”

Virgil let his shoulders drop. Power, other than to help people, really wasn’t something he cared about, but John was right. The IR logo inspired a lot.

Or it used to.

He sat back down on the sofa and rubbed his face with his hands.

His military brothers remained standing. Gordon started pacing, the aquanaut’s furious energy spilling over onto the floorboards.

Scott looked like he wanted to stab someone.

Virgil was busy not thinking about the sixty-three people he had killed just because some asshole wanted to control-

“So, what do we do?” Gordon was standing almost on Scott’s toes. “We can’t just sit here.”

“I’m aware of that, Gordon.”

“Then what’s the plan?” Russet-brown eyes stared up at their eldest brother and Virgil found himself hoping to god that the commander had an answer.

“We shutdown, lick our wounds and bide our time.” Gordon opened his mouth and Scott held up his hand. “For now.” It was firm and declared no argument.

Gordon let out a disgusted sound, but deflated.

Scott turned back to John. “Thunderbird Five, you will send me a full report...immediately.”

“FAB.”

“Gordon, contact Brandy. Enquire with caution, but find out if WASP has any information on the topic. We do not want to alert those involved that we know what we know. Be subtle.”

Gordon grunted. “I can be subtle.”

Scott’s mutter was non-committal. “Virgil, you need rest-“

“No. I’ll be in the hangars repairing Two.” He stood up and turned towards the elevator.

“Virgil-“

“NO!” Both his hands were up, defensive. “No, Scott, I’m...I’m just going to fix my ‘bird.” He didn’t give his brother any more time to protest, spinning on his heels and stalking out of the room.

He didn’t bother to look back.

-o-o-o-

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

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dokidokivisual · 3 years

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Gochiusa BLOOM episode 9 impressions

Previously: 8 - 7 - 6 - 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1

That’s right, the long-awaited review of episode 9 is finally here! I haven’t managed to finish it last week and kind of lost motivation since almost nobody reads these anyway, but there we go. Not sure what I’m going to do with the remaining episodes at this point, maybe I’ll combine 10 and 11 together?

The episode starts with a flashback from Chiya and Sharo’s childhood which shows the origin of Anko’s crown. The scene is “shot” in widescreen aspect ratio, a technique that I don’t remember being used before in Gochiusa anime, such as during the previous Chiya/Sharo flashback in Season 2 Episode 9.

I’d like to bring the attention to the opening shot of flowers, which are periwinkles (Vinca major). As you might know, Japanese media often uses the flower language, or hanakotoba which assigns specific meanings to various flowers. The meanings of greater periwinkle are “pleasant memories” and “childhood friends”, which seems to apply rather well here. In fact, if you see a shot of flowers in an anime, there’s a very high chance they have a relevant meaning in hanakotoba.

Of course I couldn’t help but look up chamomile as well, and its meaning seems to be “patience in the face of adversity”...

It seems that Chiya has now lost the crown, but it’s honestly surprising how it stayed on Anko all this time considering he has been carried away by crows and dropped from the sky more than once. Also, I feel like revealing the crown is lost so early in the episode deprives the viewers from being able to spot it on their own, just by seeing crownless Anko in various scenes (as has been done in the manga chapter).

In Chiya’s class there’s an election for picking the candidate from the class for the student council president position. The only two people competing are Chiya and the class president (who doesn’t have a name and referred to only as Iincho). In a surprising turn of events, Chiya gets 16 votes versus 14 votes for the prez (refer to the tally mark chart in episode 3 review), which means there are at least 30 people in the class.

Imagine losing a popularity poll to Chiya. The prez is a tragic character...

Cocoa volunteers to be Chiya’s “producer”, but Chiya calls her “First Lady” which totally means she wants to marry her. By the way, it was Cocoa who nominated Chiya for the election, which I don’t think is mentioned in the anime. In general, this particular chapter has been rearranged rather heavily for the adaptation with things happening in a completely different order, so it’s quite interesting to compare the two versions.

For example, when we see Chiya coming up with the names of various student committees, it seems like a completely natural and Chiya thing to do. It’s hard to believe that in the manga, it is Sharo who comes up with the idea of renaming all the committees. In fact this particular Chiya/Sharo tête-à-tête is not in the manga at all. However it’s an important scene to establish Sharo’s feelings towards Chiya’s presidential ambitions and she doesn’t seem too happy about them, in fact she doesn’t even congratulate Chiya.

Next we have another anime-original scene where Chiya goes to accessories store (from episode 6) to find a replacement for Anko’s crown. It should be pointed out that the design of the crown itself is not completely arbitrary. It features a moon crescent, which symbolizes night (the last character 夜 of Chiya’s name) but is also associated with Arabic world. The closest thing to Anko’s crown I could find is this heraldic crown of the King of Egypt. Anyway, this is also a reference to Chiya’s name, namely it being derived from Japanese name for 1001/Arabian Nights 千夜一夜物語 (Sen’ya Ichiya Monogatari).

Meanwhile Rize is trying to change image to be more like a college student, notices Chiya and asks to make her an adult (phrasing?). As a result, we get an appearance from Rize’s alter-ego Rose for the first time since season 1 episode 9.

The interesting thing about Rose is that despite being featured in only a small number of chapters, she gets a mention in Rize’s character blurb in Manga Time Kirara MAX until this day. It literally takes like a third of her character description!

Anyway, this scene is just a prelude for the adaptation of chapter 2 of volume 7 which is named after a Rize character song 鏡合わせのアンビバレット. In the song, Rize tries on outfits in front of a mirror and tries to convince herself that it’s still her. The illustration for this chapter also shows Rose as a mirror image of Rize.

We see Sharo looking through a bookstore window, which I think also appears in the following episode, and this is a foreshadowing that she works here too. The bookstore is named “Dreamy Books” which is seen later in the scene.

Chiya and “Rose” appear and at first Sharo doesn’t recognize Rize, and only does after Rize points a finger gun at her. Well, it’s not like there is anyone else in this town having purple hair or anything.

By the way you might notice that compared to the last episode the characters are dressed much more warmly, which reflects the fact that it’s already December. Looking back at the scene in episode 8 where Rize and Chimame cross the bridge at night, it’s quite shocking how lightly they’ve been dressed there.

Chino and Cocoa come by, and recognize Rize as Rose. It’s lampshaded that the last time they’ve seen Rose was more than a year ago, so it’s quite impressive that they still remember her, as well as her promise to visit Rabbit House (in s1e9 she only visits Ama Usa An). Rize thinks it’s a good chance to “infiltrate” Rabbit House to see what the others think of her when she’s gone.

Rize’s infiltration goes relatively smoothly until Maya and Megu barge in and immediately recognize her. Chiya manages to get them to play along in time, however Megu makes up a ridiculous backstory painting Rose as a ballet kempo practitioner who fights an evil organization.

Aoyama Blue Mountain also backs up Rose’s existence, by mentioning that she is in her literature club and also does food reviews. She gives Rize a cheat sheet which seems to parody the tendency of food reviews to describe food as “melting in your mouth” (for example wagyu beef).

Later Rize ends up having a conversation with Chino where she reveals that Rize’s been taking more days off than usual and it gets lonely without her. She has also started lazing about in the sun, just like Cocoa does, which wouldn’t have happened if Rize has been around upholding the discipline. In the anime Rize doesn’t really react to this, but in the manga she seems a bit disappointed in Chino.

This scene is a callback to the very first episode of the show, where Rize pretends she can’t easily carry these bags of coffee beans, because they’re too heavy for a “normal girl” according to Cocoa. Soon after, Rize’s cover is blown after she reacts to an intruder who is just Takahiro.

It turns out that Cocoa has already recognized it’s Rize. One thing that Cocoa and Rize have in common is that they change hairstyles a lot compared to the other characters, so it makes sense that Cocoa would not be fooled by a simple hairstyle change... or would she? Shortly after Cocoa has a realization that Rose has always been Rize, which makes her feel really stupid... until she finds that Chino is still completely in the dark about everything. Maybe Chino has propagnosia, or inability to recognize faces? Anyway, Rize is quite supportive about it and asks Chino if she’s ok if she does image change in the future.

But there’s still one more twist in this chapter, since Cocoa’s sister Mocha makes an appearance! Considering she appears in the opening, this season hasn’t really done anything with her yet. But it turns out it’s just Cocoa in a wig (why does she even have a Mocha wig???), nevertheless she successfully fools Rize and Chino for a second. Maybe the last episode of the season will have real Mocha (I’m assuming she won’t be in the Christmas arc).

And we’re back to the student council election storyline. The “sandwich” composition where one story “wraps” another seems to be used a lot this season. In this case the stories have almost zero relation to each other so I don’t know why the episode had to be structured like this.

Chiya’s election poster (aside from Cocoa’s scribbles) follows a traditional Japanese election poster design, featuring a closeup photo of a politician, her name and a slogan (which implores you to vote like a shiratama dumpling for some reason). I feel like a poster like this prioritizes the looks of a politician over their policies or whatever, but maybe there’s some sort of election law that these posters have to follow.

Cocoa and Chino also wrote letters of endorsement for Chiya, although Cocoa’s was mostly written by Aoyama and was basically a food review. Chino not only made Chiya almost explode from praise, but also presented a verbal takedown of Cocoa on the fly. Later, Chiya makes a passionate speech trying to emulate Rize, but maybe Chino should’ve written that too.

Next I’d like to point your attention to the name of the dish that Chiya made to celebrate the occasion:

Aki no sora (in the autumn sky) Todoroku oto wa (a thundering sound is) Omedetai (auspicious)

If you count the syllables, you’ll find that it is actually a haiku. and it even includes a kigo (season word, “autumn in this case”). The final line is a pun, as tai indicates the presence of taiyaki (a bean paste filled cake shaped like a bream fish) in the dish.

Another anime-original scene appears to flesh out the episode’s “moral” and show how Ama Usa is where Chiya really shines. A bunch of old ladies (who seem like they starred in a Kirara manga a long time ago) enter the teahouse to celebrate the birth of a 5th grandchild for one of them. Cocoa also helps Chiya, donning the Ama Usa uniform once again.

Chiya sprinkles gold dust on her dish, doing her best “salt bae” expression. Pure gold is inert and as such can be safely eaten. In Japan, gold leaf is even added to tea, which might explain why Chiya has it.

As everyone is about to go home, Chiya’s grandma appears through a rarely-opened sliding window and offers some manju as a treat. In the anime this is how Sharo eventually discovers the lost Chiya’s crown, which her grandma uses as a hairpin (the hairpin functionality explains how this crown doesn’t fall off Anko). Surprisingly she doesn’t appear at all in the manga chapter, and Sharo just randomly finds the crown “outside”.

By the way, the text on the manju box says “congratulations on winning the election”, which might’ve been a bit premature.

Sharo goes to return the crown back to Chiya, and Chiya repeats Cocoa’s reaction from part A, which sounds like breakup song lyrics. This dialogue wasn’t in the manga in either scene and I think it was included to somehow tie the two parts together, and make the inability to notice something obvious that was around you the whole time the unifying concept of the episode.

For Chiya the crown was the symbol of ambition, and her dream to become the director of Ama Usa An and conquer the world. Sharo has a lot of drive to work multiple jobs, but doesn’t seem to have a goal she aspires to. When she finally gets an opportunity to move up the ranks, by becoming a student council president, she declines it. Living side by side with Chiya forever (zutto issho) seems to be the extent of her ambitions. Sharo feels betrayed by Chiya being ready to “leave” her and spend more time with student council than at her own restaurant.

After the ED we see the conclusion of this conflict. Sharo sees the preparations for celebrating the winner of the election, and begrudgingly congratulates Chiya. We see Cocoa, Rize and Chino helping out, but Sharo wasn’t even invited...

But it turns out class prez was the winner, after Chiya has declined the nomination. She probably had all the posters and speeches at the ready just in case, and didn’t have to prepare at all. In the manga, this is also where she returns Sharo’s uniform that she borrowed back in episode 4.

Meanwhile Chiya and Sharo have a talk and agree that it was the best for them to decline their nominations and they should stick with what they have. Not sure if that applies to Sharo though, she wasn’t really shown to be “shining” but more like “barely getting by”. There was also another reason in the manga for Chiya to agree it was the right choice: Chiya’s classmates totally trashed her menu names, which means they probably wouldn’t like her committee names either. Most of the classmates dialogue was cut out in the anime though.

So that was episode 9 and all that’s left for this season is a 2-episode Christmas arc and the season finale. Hope you enjoyed this review and until next time!

#gochiusa #gochuumon wa usagi desu ka?#is the order a rabbit?#review

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supertweetycherry · 4 years

Text

TRAPPED || [Part 1 - The Past]

--Pairings: Jung Hoseok x Reader (You)

--Genre: Mafia au! Childhood Friends au! High school au! — Romance, Angst, Slight Fluff, Friends to Enemies.

--Ratings: Strictly Pg18

--Warnings: Slight Possessiveness, Slight Depression, Lot of Sadness, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Sexual Harassment and Mentions of School Bullying.

--Summary: Trapping a fish in a hook takes time. You have to wait for hours before the creature takes the bait. But once they are hooked, there is no un-doing it. Isn’t that what happened with you?

--Word Count: 6.2k

Navigations -> Masterlist || MASTERPOST >> Part 1 >> Part 2 >> Part 3

Part 1 - The Past

To catch a fish, the fishermen had to set his trap from the beginning. He had to bait the fish, tempt her to take his sweet offerings and then wait for her to come to him. It’s a long process but he had to be very patient. What happens when that waiting period turns into hours? Will the fish ever take the bait?

For you, it started from the very beginning.

You first met him when you were a toddler. Your mother had placed you into the same sandbox as him. Apparently, you and your family were on a vacation in Jeju Island. Over there, your ever loving mother had found herself an invite to a Mom’s weekly play party. It was held in one of the resorts owned by the island.

Your mother being the party goer herself, instantly accepted the invitation. On that morning, she had woken up early and dressed you up in a pink frock and white sandals before making her way to the resort with you in her arms. Upon reaching there, the women had dropped you off by the play area for kids like you.

At that time, you barely had any sense of direction. Your 15-month-old toddler mind couldn’t filter what’s right and what’s wrong. Not to mention, you had a very strange habit of hugging anything or anyone that comes in your sight. So, when your mother had placed you, next to a crying chubby toddler and a group of giggling female toddlers, you had defied the laws of the society and went after the crying baby.

He had looked so cute to you that day, that you couldn’t help but stare at him for few minutes before making your move. Especially with his little beady eyes and small heart-shaped lips, you had no problem in stretching your arms out and engulfing the little elephant in your supposed hug as a way to sooth his cries. Initially, it didn’t work out but, as you continued to scoot closer to the boy, you had managed to catch his attention.

The little boy had looked at you like you had cooties. But you didn’t care. You just wanted to hug him. Your beaming smile was evident enough that you had no plans of leaving him alone, especially with his eyes puffy and red. You just wanted to shoo away all his worries. And maybe that’s why, you didn’t let go when he tried to shift away from you.

“Geee off... orff!” You remember giggling when he had made those jabs at you to leave him. But being a stubborn baby yourself, you refused to release the little elephant from your grip.

“Huggies.” You whispered the word, burying your head in his chest. It was one of the only few words you knew at that time.

And maybe that’s why, he eventually gave up and let you hug him out.

It was your little stubborn gesture that turned this meeting into a blooming start of your long friendship.

From that day on, as your mother received more and more invitations to ‘Moms Only’ clubs, you kept meeting the boy again and again. And like always, you wouldn’t let him go until he eventually grew fond of you.

“Gu Gu Ga Ga... Yu Yu Ga Ga.” Yeah, that was your toddler language when you couldn’t remember the big words.

Few weeks later, when it was time for your family to return back home in Seoul, you shared a tearful goodbye with the chubby boy. You had grown to care for him. His warming smiles, his shinning eyes, his soft soft skin... you had grown so fond of them.

You still didn’t know his name but, your mother had called him ‘Hopie’ once. Atleast that’s what you thought she said.

“Hopie... cess miss you.” You babbled at him as he hung tightly against your frame. He was a bit reluctant to let you go. After weeks of being together, the boy didn’t want you to be separated from him. Not even for a second.

And so, to calm him down, you had placed a little toddler kiss on his nose before slipping out of his slippery fingers. It was short and cute, but also satisfying.

Time passed, and you missed the toddler dearly. You missed his rare smiles, the occasion shinning glint in his brown beady eyes, and the little touches he made towards you.

And the hugs. Definitely the hugs.

You dearly hoped that you would meet him one day again.

Luckily, that day came when you started your pre-school. You found him in the same way again, sitting to the side and away from everyone else. His features were so recognisable that he stood out from all the normal ones. You had no trouble at all.

That aloof aura was still around him. He was still giving the bad vibes to anyone who came within ten feet of his vicinity. He still looked chubbier than ever, and you had no problem when you jumped at him from behind, latching onto his big back like a monkey.

“Hopie!”

The sound of your loud voice had startled him a bit, and you almost feared that he might drop you. But luckily, he had recognised the familiar vanilla scent wafting off you. And that was enough for the boy to pull you up in his arms and never let you go.

You had been so happy that day, that you ended up ignoring everyone else around you.

You paid attention to no-one except your long lost toddler friend. The two of you seemed so comfortable that most of the time, you were snuggled up against him, just enjoying the warmth from his big arms. Even when the day ended, you hadn’t left your Hopie’s hand. Not even when your father tried to bait you with an ice-cream.

As more days passed, the both of you became closer. You spent most of your time with him, alienating yourself from others just so you could make him feel comfortable. Its not like he hated everyone around him, its just no-one really looked past his chubby body. Every kid in their class would point him out for being ‘fat’ and it enraged you whenever they did.

So, to prevent any fights from happening, you only spent time with your soon-to-be best friend, Hopie.

“It’s Hoseok, Y/n. Not Hopie.” He whined for the tenth time that day as he pronounced his name with correct syllable and right sound.

“Ho-sook.” You tried. But he was nearly 15 months older than you, which means he had more experience. So, when you kept getting his name wrong, he eventually gave up and stayed as ‘Hopie’ for you.

That is until, you guys started your major schooling years and you finally got his name right.

As young teenagers, you both had matured a little. Your friendship has bloomed into an unbreakable bond. Not even the bias views from other kids around your age could deter you anymore.

“Why do you even hangout with him, Y/N? He’s so weird.” One of your elementary school friend mused when she saw you consistently bringing Hoseok into their ‘friends only’ conversations.

You had noticed a strange frown on her face.

“Because he’s my best friend.” You happily replied with a big smile before continuing to put gemstones into the friendship bracelet you had created for Hoseok.

“But I’m your best friend.” The girl had slightly hissed. “He’s just some fat weirdo with no friends.”

Her words had instantly pissed you off. You instantly gave her a heated glare before taking your pencil back from her slimy fingers.

“He’s not a fat weirdo. He’s just a cute chubby boy. And he’s a completely normal guy with a completely normal behaviour.” You retorted before gathering up your supplies. “And FYI, he does have a friend. He has me. I’m his best friend.”

And with that, you stalked off to a another table.

As the elementary schooling passed, you became more and more connected to Hoseok. He became the best friend that you never had. You both equally supported and protected each other.

Even at the high school age, you guys never felt ashamed to be hugging or seeking out each other’s touches.

You still considered him as your little elephant while he still considered you as his spoilt princess.

You both had promised to be with each other forever and to never let go.

He was special to you, because he was a ray of sunshine in your life. He brightened you up like a star.

You had grown so fond of him that when the time came... you fell hard for him.

Few years later, you reached your sophomore year and you had started to develop hard feelings for him. Every touch, every smile, every gesture that he made, became more and more prominent as your feelings heightened.

“What’s this?” You asked, looking up at him in question. He had a gentle smile on his face. His shinning brown eyes were boring into your dark ones as if he was amused.

“It’s for you, princess.”

Your insides quickly warmed up with that little pet name of his. He had started using it just few months ago. It had taken you a moment, but you were able to push down that faint blush that was creeping up on your cheeks. Quickly raising the velvet box to your eye-level, you unwrapped the large ribbon on it and opened the box, to find something you hadn’t expected from him.

“Happy Birthday, Princess.”

You were stunned at the gift. Your mouth hung open as you looked at him and back at the box.

He had given you a pair of simple diamond stud earrings with blue exterior.

And they seemed fucking expensive.

“Do you like them?” He asked with a huge smile on his lips. He had somehow brought his face closer to you.

“I love them.” you whispered, feeling a little dizzy at the stare he was giving you.

“I’m glad you liked it. I had specially ordered them to be custom made for you.” You shyly smiled at him.

Hoseok has always showered you with gifts. Not because he was rich and wealthy, but because he wanted to. Atleast thats what he claimed. You just nodded and believed him every single time, because you knew he would never lie to you.

Usually his gift didn't affected you much, but these days, every one of his presents were becoming more and more important, and meaningful to you.

“May I?” He asked, holding up his fingers for permission.

You nodded and let him fix them in your ears.

“How do I look?”

“You look amazing as always.” This alone made you blush like hell. But you managed to cover it up behind your arm.

The next thing you know, he was hugging you from behind, just sniffing in on your vanilla scent. You let him.

It was a friendly gesture, right?

At the start of your Junior year, Hoseok has changed and morphed into one of the most handsome boys in your school. The sudden body weight drop was so quick that you had failed to recognize him when he came back from his summer holidays that year.

He had to physically twirl you around in his strong arms to make you realize who he was.

Apparently, during that summer, you had stayed behind to work on your extra curriculum activities while your best friend had went out for a family vacation.

It was the only vacation where he didn’t invite you in for. And the only vacation he hadn’t bothered to explain. Whatever happened during that time, it has changed him. His height has increased, his shoulders had broaden, and his features have became more sharp.

There was a new sense of style in him. He seemed more relaxed, lean and on the edge all at the same time. There were also a stack of mini muscles that he has gained. You had felt them when he had hugged you on the day of his return. You also noticed the roughness of his hands and the strong hold he now possessed.

It all seemed so strange to you. But you didn’t question it.

Instead, you used that time to focus on your feelings. They had increased in volume so much that it became hard for you to tune them out. Sooner or later, you came in terms with them. But you refused to say it out loud to anyone. Your rich family of lawyers and policemen didn’t approve of Hoseok anymore. They rejected the boy two years ago when they met his parents. They had labeled him as dangerous and immature, and had concluded that your best friend was unfit to be around you.

He was a bad influence.

And maybe he was. After all, you were ready to defy all your family’s rules for him. Your bond with him was so close that you couldn’t leave him even if you wanted to. You had given him your full trust.

And maybe, that was your first mistake.

That boy didn't deserve your trust. At all.

Things took a turn when the school year started. See, unlike previous years, Hoseok has risen up the social ladder while you had been toppled off due to your intimate friendship with your handsome best friend.

Everyone envied the bond between you two. The girls could not see their chance of grabbing Hoseok slip away to a nerd, while the boys couldn’t wait to bang the said nerd.

It was a sticky situation for you. The teasing in the halls and the leg trips here and there, has increased for you.

You became so depressed and lonely during that time, not even the three chipmunks could cheer your mood up. The three young boys who had been with Hoseok and you since the beginning. Hoseok had introduced them to you when you guys were in the 5th grade. They latched onto you like little kids, begging to have your attention from time to time.

They were babies. And they needed an older female figure in their life. You became that figure.

You loved them like your little brothers.

“Noona, you should confess to hobi hyung soon. He’s going crazy these day.”

You literally chocked on your water as the youngest chipmunk in your vicinity smirked at your reaction. You were wheezing and coughing as you tried to get the water out of your lungs.

“Ya!” You scolded the middle child, hitting him on the back of his head. “Kim Taehyung, you cheesy sneezer! Who filled your head with this nonsense?”

“Oh please, Noona.” The eldest of them scoffed, shoving his mochi hands in your face. “We’re not blind. We can see everything. You and hobi hyung has the hots for each other.”

“Yeah, just go and kiss it out.” Needless to say, you were not surprised when the younger of them also joined in. “You guys act like little toddlers on their first date.”

At those words, your cheeks were instantly dusted with a pink hue. Sighing, you slumped down your shoulders in defeat. These boys were crazy. Nothing get past them so easily.

“Hoseok and I are just best-friends, kookie. Nothing more than that.” You said quietly, hoping that they wouldn’t pry too much on it.

“Keep thinking that and one day you’ll loose him for good.” It was meant to be a joke but it affected you with a sharp stab to your heart.

“Jungkook shut up!” The other two berated the young kid. You just shrugged, refusing to show anything.

“Don’t go on the makane’s words, noona. Just confess to hobi hyung now before things get ugly.”

You didn’t know what they were talking about, but you sure knew that these three had crazy imaginations. So, you shut them up with a little ‘Shut up’ before slumping down next to them in the grass.

If only, you had taken heed to their warning....

“Listen here tramp, let me make this easy and clear for you.” Park Soo-bin, the typical queen bee of your high school has managed to corner you against the ladies toilets, once again. She was one of the most prettiest girls in the school, but she had a personality of a wicked villain. You have tried to avoid her on so many occasions recently, but that girl is so persistent at getting her message across. “Stay the fuck away from my Hobi. He doesn’t need a gold digger like you coming in his way to greatness. He’s part of the popular gang. And popular people don’t hang out with dirty little rags like you. I’m sure you are aware of the hierarchy, right?”

You didn’t reply. Your eyes were already filling up with tears at her blunt statement. The hierarchy difference between you and your best friend was too big. You had always known that.

“Speak when spoken to, nerd!” The girl hissed, taking your hair into her hand and pulling on them. You heard yourself whimpering at the sudden pain, but you hadn’t replied one word to her.

You refused to.

You maybe helpless in your love life, but you were not the one to take an order so easily. Hoseok didn’t raise you like this. All those years, he had told you to stand up against people, even if its him.

Not to mention your family line of protective lawyers and policemen, you were capable enough to handle these girls.

And that’s how you ended up in the principle’s office with your hair pulled into a mess, various scratch marks covering your arms, a busted lip and bleeding knuckles. The two other girls who joined in the fight were in a similar state while the main one, the typical bitch of this school, was crying over a broken nail and a red cheek.

If you were being honest, it was the two younger girls that were behind most of your injuries, while the queen bee had watched from the sidelines until you had managed to land a hit on her. Needless to say, you felt so satisfied when your palm had come in contact with her smooth, powdery cheek.

“She needs to be expelled! She doesn’t deserve to be here!”

“Look at my child. That girl has no manners.”

“My poor Soo-bin.”

The accusations went flying past your head like baseball. You rolled your eyes and stood leaning against the wall, glaring at the main bitch of the room. She was mouthing the words of your demise, by sliding her thumb across her neck, to show how much trouble you were in. But you didn’t care. You just raised an eye-brow at her attitude.

Maybe, listening to all the words she was saying, you could maybe smack her again, right in front of the principle and her parents. But because of your parent’s disapproval looks, you stepped back.

When all the shouting was over, you had slipped away with a small warning. All thanks to your uncle, who had used his law to corner the parents into an agreement. But even then, your own parents were not happy with you.

You had clearly seen the disappointment flashing in their eyes. It hurted you a bit, but you managed to survive it. You were more worried about Hoseok who still hasn’t returned from his week long vacation to an unknown place that only him and his family knew about.

You were a little dejected by his so called ‘special family plans’, but you had figured, it was some sort of family thing that the Jungs have. Unlike your own parents, Hoseok’s family had no problem with accepting you in the family as one of their own daughters. You were close to them from the beginning, especially to Hoseok’s older sister, Jung Ji-Wo.

“Stay away from him, Y/n. This is my last warning to you.” Those have been your father’s orders when he discovered the reason behind the whole fiasco with the school’s queen bee. As usual, he had grown angry at the revelation and had warned you before walking off.

You just shrugged at his words in return. You can never stay away from Hoseok, whether he likes it or not.

As more days passed with no news from your best friend and Park Soo-bin growing impatient with your aloof behaviour towards her, the eldest chipmunk’s warning started to ring in your head. It was clear that during those two weeks of separation from your best friend, has seemed to alert the whole school of your isolation period and they all ended up using this to their advantages.

Main one being Park Soo-bin—the ultimate dare devil in your high school life.

You wished dearly that Hoseok would come back from his vacation quickly before things gets out of hand. Even though you had successfully handled the three girls that day, fighting off the entire school’s population would definitely be almost next to impossible for you.

Especially when your three helpful chipmunks were also MIA.

It happed just a day before his return. He had finally contacted you from his secret getaway and apologised for his silence. You forgave him the moment he had called you and just relished in hearing his voice again after such a long time, is when it happened.

The fateful incident.

Some students said you slipped off by accident. Others said you had staged the whole thing. And the more older, responsible ones claimed that you were jerking off someone.

But you knew the truth.

You had been cornered and harassed by the popular gang. The males did all the unthinkable things with you while the females watched you squirm, shout and beg for them let you go. You had remembered screaming, kicking, biting—basically doing anything to avoid being touched and tainted by their grubby hands. When you had finally managed to get away from them with parts of your clothes ripped and skin filled with bruises and marks, Park Soo-bin had smirked in your face before completing the deed with a slight push.

“Bye Bye Y/N.” Those were the last words you heard before you were pushed off the edge of the stairs. You had clambered down the long staircase like a rag doll, your screams muffled by the air being knocked out of you and your limbs flying around as they hit each and every pointy edge of the concrete and steel railings they came in contact with.

You didn’t know what happened next, but you remember waking up in a hospital bed, next to your crying best friend who had his face stuffed in the palm of your right hand, producing loud aching sobs as he kissed and stained your skin with his hot tears.

The sight was only there for few seconds before your eyes fluttered shut once again due to the meds being pumped in your veins.

The next time you woke up was to see your family entering your hospital room. Judging by their depressed and downcast expressions, you had already concluded that you were in a pretty bad shape.

There was no denying in that. Even the doctors had concluded you as a lost case when you hadn’t woken up for two weeks straight.

But somehow, you have survived. And thats what mattered.

One by one, they visited you at random times of the day. First came your mother who had littered your face with sweet kisses and promises to cook all your favourite food when you return home. Next, was your father. He had cried and apologised for not taking strict actions towards the first assault that happened to you in the school. You had just waved his apology away and smiled.

Few days later, it was your older brother, Taemin, who had visited you. He was the only brother you cared about, because the rest of your cousin brothers were A-grade assholes. Taemin had taken special leave from his special op training so he could be next to you. He had serenaded you to sleep and promised to make everything better.

The next time you woke up, you found your best friend sleeping on the small couch in front of your bed. He looked disheveled from every angle. His hair were untidy, he had dark bags under his swollen eyes, his skin was pale from the lack of sunlight and he had a slumped, sad posture to his lean body.

The boy truly looked like he had been wrecked over by a bus.

You also noticed six other guys in the room, three of them being your naughty chipmunks and the other three were strangers.

“How are you feeling?” One of them asked with an angelic smile on his face. He was one of the taller ones and one of the strangers in the room. He was dressed casually, but with the way he was hovering over you, checking your vitals and readings, he seemed to know what he was doing.

“Peachy.” You answered, voice cracking at the end. He seemed to be smiling at you before going over to your best friend to wake him up. “No, don’t.” You had barely stopped the boy. He looked at you with puzzled expressions.

“Let him sleep, please. He looks like he needs it.”

He seemed surprised by your caring nature and blinked a large smile at your face.

“I’m glad to see you care about him the way he does for you.” The words were genuine. “You know, he’s been visiting you everyday. But I guess, you were sleeping most of the time.”

“I know.” You replied, looking at Hoseok with affection reflecting in your eyes. “He cares too much for me.”

“I’m glad you think the same way as us. I’m Seokjin by the way, but you can call me ‘Jinnie Oppa’.”

That might have been the mood breaker in the room because you instantly threw him a huge grin. He was sweet and charming.

“I already have an Oppa. And he’s the best one I have.” You retorted playfully, thinking of your older brother, Taemin.

“I make a very good Oppa too, sweetheart.” He winked at you with a pout.

You had giggled and thought the man was charismatic too.

If only you knew that you were talking to a killer...

“Hoseok, I’m fine.” You assured the boy as he snuggled his crying face into your bandaged arms, producing loud sobs for the other boys to hear.

As soon as he saw you awake, your best friend broke down into literal tears, crying his eyes out as he dipped low, head buried into your arms. His sudden weight on your arms increased your pain but you didn’t let it show one bit.

He was hurt and scared at your battered figure. The least you could do was let him cry. And so, you let him as he quickly changed spots and moved onto your stomach, making your skin vibrate.

“Hosoek...” You cooed the boy, running your hand through his chest-nut hair and caressing his wet face. “Please don’t cry. Look, I’m fine.”

He looked at you with a helpless look before diving against your stomach again.

“I-I thought I l-lost you.” He said through his sobs.

You just smiled and kissed the boy’s head in affection.

“I could never leave you, Hoseok. Didn’t I promise you that?”

It took some time but you were able to calm the boy down. With the help of the others in the room, all of you managed to turn Hoseok’s loud sobs into small hiccups.

“Please, just please, don’t ever leave me, Y/N.” He said quietly, still tucking onto your hand like his life is depended on it. “I need you. I-I cant l-live without y-you.”

Something warm erupted in your chest. But you didn’t let it get to you. What if he means this in a best friend way?

“I won’t ever leave you, hoseok. Your whiny ass wouldn’t survive a day without me.” You joked.

It didn’t work.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” He gave you a look you couldn’t decipher. It made you flush.

“Sorry... I-I just meant—never-mind. Just don’t worry please. I won’t leave you.”

He didn’t look satisfied for some reason but none the less, he still nodded. You were about to question him, but the strangers in the room decided to throw a pizza party. A party where you didn't even get a single slice of pizza since you were on the hospital diet.

“Lucky bastards.”

“How long has it been?” You asked Hoseok one day. You were still in the hospital but a bit better than before. Hoseok was peeling off some apples for you.

“Nearly a month.” He said, digging the knife into an apple. You could see how clean and fast he was with a knife. The apple was cut into thin slices within a matter of seconds.

“How’s school going? You’re still attending your classes, right?” You didn’t want to touch the topic, but you didn’t want him to sacrifice his studies for you. He’s been spending too much time here during the day and you were simply worried. “Hoseok?”

He hadn’t replied you yet. Instead, a slice of the apple was shoved in your mouth before your best friend smiled at you.

“Don’t worry about anything, Princess. My studies are going fine. Infact—” This is where he pulled out some books from his bag. “—I brought these for you. I hope you are stable enough to go through them with me.”

Your face instantly brightened at the sight of your books.

“Yes, ofcourse I am!”

You were truly a nerd. That’s never gonna change.

“Yay.” You squealed slightly when he dropped one book into your lap. Your good arm was already onto it, feeling the hard, shiny cover before opening the book to see what you have missed.

Hoseok grinned at your enthusiasm.

“Nerd.” He teased.

“Elephant.” You retorted back, but it wasn’t that strong, because in the next second he bursted out into a fit of loud laughter, making you scowl. “It’s not funny!”

He still didn’t listen. So, with a slight irritated huff, you smacked his shoulder. He retaliated by pinning your limbs down and hovering over you.

You were surprised at how easily he kneeled over you, careful not to hurt you but also smart enough to completely pin you to the hospital bed.

“Don’t be a naughty girl, Y/N.” He teased with a slight smirk. “You don’t want to be punished by me, do you?”

Damn, his voice was seductive to you. He had never behaved this way before.

“As if!” You dryly mocked with a laugh before trying to push him off you. But he didn’t listen. Instead, he dipped lower and engulfed you into a tight hug while he laid over you.

“I’m serious.”

You scowled at him. Great, he going to be plastered to you for the whole night. God forbid, if you can survive his lean muscular body resting on top of you.

You were always a sucker for his touches.

Few days later, things became normal for you. With right medication and right therapy, you were able to walk again. It boosted up your healing process and in no time you were ready to face the hard part of this whole ordeal.

Your culprits.

When you saw them standing in court with tears streaming down their eyes, you felt satisfied. You were in the same place as them when they had touched you in every open spot on your skin. The four young boys who had dared to molest you were jailed the same day. Their actions recorded in a school’s hidden camera in the corridor.

The six girls involved were put to heavy charges, involving; community service, a criminal record for harassing, bullying and attempt to rape, expulsion from the school and for some, being abandoned from their family lines.

Out of all this, the only person you cared about was Park Soo-bin. For some reason, the girl got away with everything. She wasn’t even mentioned as her friends took the blame. And you felt more angry than annoyed.

But that anger turned into shock when you saw the news next day.

“—we’re bringing you live from the Han River. A body has been discovered during the early hours of this morning. It belonged to a school girl, named Park Soo-bin, who had been missing for the past few days from her home and was now recently discovered floating in the river. The body seemed to be tortured, sliced open in many places and its limbs broken in—”

You hadn’t listened to the whole thing. The graphic visual displayed on your TV was enough to hurl your insides in the nearest toilet. Your best friend stood over you, holding back your hair as he patted your back in assurance.

He didn’t seem fazed by the news at all.

“Don’t worry, princess. Everything will be alright now.”

If you were just a little conscious enough to focus on his words, then maybe, you might have noticed the hidden glee lacing his voice...

Life turned back to normal soon enough. You had started school again and this time no-one bothered you anymore. Not even the left over popular girls who would used to do anything to tease you. But this time, they didn’t do anything besides glaring. And when your three chipmunks came in to cheer you up, their glares had turned into fear.

As more days passed, you started to ponder on your classmates strange behaviors. They seemed almost scared of you. You had expected them to be angry and furious with you, but they weren’t. It made you question few aspects of your life, but those though were quickly driven out of your mind when your best friend decided to give you a more interesting topic to think about.

His growing closeness with you.

He seemed more touchy than ever these days, always looking out for you and glaring at any boy who walked passed. At first, you were confused, but as you observed him more, you started to notice the difference. He was growing protective of you. There was a untold affection in his eyes that you always hoped to see in him. It warmed your heart and made you happy.

Was he finally feeling something towards you?

“I’m telling you, noona. Hyung is going to propose to you soon.” The youngest chipmunk said one day, taking your sushi out of your hands. “After all, he can’t let the fish get away.”

“Fish?” You questioned but then shook your head at his stupid comparisons. “Just keep eating you dumb bunny.” You shut him up by thrusting another sushi in his mouth.

It wasn’t long before Jungkook’s words started to come true. Just few weeks after, Hoseok plucked up his courage and proposed to you... with a small condition.

“Do you love me, Y/N?” He asked, holding out a rose to you. Literally everyone in the corridor stared at you both. Hoseok’s eyes were shinning as he brought you slightly closer to him. “I have seen you the way you look at me. It’s the same way I look at you. If you say yes, then remember, there is no going back. You will have to accept me in every shape and size I am. Even if you start to hate me, I will never let you go.”

The words had shocked you. His confession was so sudden that it rendered you a bit stunned. But that didn’t stop you from answering him. You’ve always waited for this moment. You can’t let it get away now.

“Hoseok, why would I ever hate you? I have always loved you.” You said to him, cupping his glowing cheeks. You were so happy in love that you couldn’t see the dark intent in his eyes. “I love your lips, I love your eyes, I love your nose, I love your cheeks, I love everything about you. I have always loved you. You are still my little elephant. And you are still my ray of hope.”

As if the words that triggered something in him, he jerked you closer and met your lips with his, sealing the deal. You could hear cheering in the background, probably from the three annoying chipmunks.

“You are mine now, Y/N. Remember that. You belong to me. No matter what happens next, you cannot escape me.”

And like a foolish girl, you had nodded along to his conditions.

After all, he was your sunshine and you trusted him.

But you had forgotten one thing. He was not normal like other people. He may be your ray of hope but he was also a force to be reckon with. He may have pledge you to do his sweet biddings and trapped you in his love, but he has also permanently chained you to him.

Which is why you found yourself in this situation, over and over.

Tag List: @breadcaaat

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abuttoncalledsmalls · 4 years

Text

Take A Giant Step - Chapter 4

Warnings: Angst and Language

Pairings: Frankie Morales x f!OC

Word Count: 1.7 K

A/N: Here is Chapter 4! If you would like to be tagged in upcoming chapters, please don’t hesitate to let me know. Shout out to the AMAZINGLY LOVELY @yespolkadotkitty for beta-ing this and making my new amazing banner!! Please enjoy. <3

Chapters: 1 2 3

“Mango!” Lauren was on her front porch when I pulled into her driveway. She had invited me over on a sunny Saturday afternoon for lunch with her and her husband, Ian. I adored my younger sister dearly and always had a wonderful time when we visited. Saturday lunches were especially a very special time where we could catch up over a delicious home cooked meal.

“Lauren!” I got out of Carly and climbed up the porch steps. As I hadn’t seen her in a while, the biggest hug I could muster was in order. She was all smiles and seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood.

“I know I said we were going to have barbeque today, but things just did not pan out. So I hope that grilled turkey burgers, potato salad, green beans, and pecan tarts are okay.”

I laughed. “That sounds amazing, but do you know that there are only three of us for lunch?”

“Yes - I can count, but leftovers are the best part of any meal.”

I rolled my eyes and followed my sister into her house. She had a lovely home. It was cozy and well put together. It almost looked like something out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine. The best part though was that it was out in the country. The property was secluded. Her only neighbors were towering oak trees, diverse wildlife, and a small creek two minutes away. Whenever we would go into her backyard, I would find myself getting lost in the splendor of the outdoors.

“Ian went out to pick up beer and some lemonade. He should be back soon. In the meantime, let’s catch up in the kitchen. I still have a little cooking to do.”

As we entered the kitchen, I settled onto a wooden stool with a blue gingham seat cushion. I asked Lauren how things were going. She replied with her usual cheeriness. Her new promotion at her financial firm was going well and Ian was enjoying the good weather by fishing every week. They were just starting on long-awaited home renovations.

“Actually, we officially started the process this morning! I called your friend Frankie and had him over this morning to do some minor work on the backyard deck. He did a really good job. I’m really excited that we’ll be able to have meals and get togethers out there again.” She sighed contently.

“He’s not still here, is he?” I wasn’t exactly dressed for company outside of my sister and brother-in-law. Somehow bright red cotton red cheer shorts and a well worn white t-shirt reading “FLASH” in bold scarlet letters did not strike me as an outfit that conveyed a well put together adult. It had more of a 70’s teenager vibe to it.

“He left about forty-five minutes before you arrived. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Sure you are… I see that smile on your face. You like him. I should have known.”

“Laur -”

“I’m not judging you, Mango. He’s a cutie and your type. I know about your weakness for brown eyes. Have you asked him out yet?”

I shook my head no. “We’re just friends. Or at least I think we are. I’m not too sure. Sometimes I feel like he’s just being polite and -”

“Jesus Christ. Do you speak to each other frequently?”

“Yeah, we text almost every day.”

“Do you two have a good time when you speak to each other?”

“I think so. I mean, I know that I do.”

“Congratulations. You are friends.” Lauren exhaled and I braced myself. I knew what was coming next. My sister began her time old lecture on the importance of letting down my guard. She reiterated that I needed to be open to letting others love and care for me. That by showing my vulnerability that I may have risked getting hurt, but I also risked missing out on so much more. I knew she was right deep down, I just wasn’t ready to get to that level yet.

“This is the last thing I will say and then I promise that I’ll drop it. You are my big sister and I love you. Your last relationship was six years ago. I want you to be happy. You deserve someone who can do that. I don’t know Frankie, but I think you’d be stupid to not ask him out for coffee at the very least. He could be total garbage or the one that completes you. Either way, you won’t know until you ask.”

***

It was dusk when I left Lauren’s. I kept thinking about our conversation in the kitchen about Frankie. I did like him a lot and I would have been interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Maybe I did need to just suck it up and ask him out. A small pebble of courage was forming in my stomach. I opened up my contacts in my phone and tapped Frankie’s name. The line began to ring. I was going to do this. I was going to be confident, see this through, and ask him to go for coffee. If he said “no”, it would be okay. The world would not end.

“Hi Maggie.” Immediately I felt myself melting. Everytime I heard him say my name in his husky baritone, I turned into putty. He had a way of making two simple syllables sound like the sweetest honey dripping off of his lips.

“Hey Frankie. Am I calling at a bad time? My confidence was disappearing as fast as it had appeared.

“Never. I was just getting settled to watch tv and eat dinner.”

“Oh no. I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner. I can call back later. It’s not important.”

“It’s okay. It’s just me, a Cheers rerun, and a Hot Pocket. You aren’t interrupting anything. How are you doing? How was your visit with your sister?”

I stopped. “How did you know about my visit?”

“She told me about it this morning when I was working on the deck in the backyard.”

“Right. She didn’t drive you crazy, did she?”

“Nope. She was really nice and left me alone to work for the most part. She did offer me coffee a few times.”

Coffee! What a perfect segue. I took a deep breath and prepared myself. It was then or never.

“Speaking of coffee, one of our board members, Harvey, mentioned that one of the legs on his coffee table needs repair. Would it be okay if I passed your info along to him?” Goddamnit. My nerves decided it would be never.

“Of course. I would be more than happy to look at it.”

“Awesome. I’ll let him know,” I said weakly.

“Is there anything else you needed?”

“I’m good,” I lied. “I’ll let you get back to Cheers and your Hot Pocket. Just promise that you’ll eat a vegetable or piece of fruit as well. That shit isn’t a real dinner.”

“Yes, Mom.” I could hear a grin in his voice which in turn made me smile. “I promise to eat something with actual nutrients as well.” We shared a chuckle.

“Maggie? Are you still on the road?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Will you promise to text me when you get home? Just so I know that you got in okay?”

“Yes, Dad.”

***

Over the next month and a half, I must have given Frankie over fifteen referrals alone. That didn’t include the ones that both Lauren and Harvey sent his way. Although he was busy with this influx of work, we still were good about keeping up with each other on a daily basis. Sometimes it was a simple text reminding the other person to hydrate. Other times it was a late night phone call where we shared laughter over the eccentricities of board members he had met that day.

I was plugging away in my office on a Monday afternoon. I was pouring over numbers for the next season’s budget and was desperate for a distraction. My head was practically swimming. My phone started to play “Go All the Way” and I knew that Frankie was calling me. I picked that ringtone specifically for him. I answered my phone.

“Hi Frank-”

“I’m in the area. Could I maybe drop by the theater for a second? I have iced coffee.”

“Absolutely! I do love my iced coffee and I always enjoy seeing you. That would be nice.”

“I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

“See you then!” I hung up. The butterflies in my stomach had reappeared. When I spoke with or texted him, I’d get a little giddy. There was just something about seeing him in person that made me feel excitedly dizzy - like I was drunk. I wondered if he would look any different from the last time I saw him. Would he still have his patchy beard and adorable belly pooch? What about his soft brown curls kept in check by his baseball cap?

I heard a knock on my office door frame and looked up. I was happy to see that Frankie still looked the same, only a little more tan. His beard, pooch, curls, and hat were all present. A large smile crossed his face when he walked in and handed me my iced coffee.

“Hi stranger. Long time, no see.”

“Tell me about it! You’re so busy now. I’m surprised you still have time to talk with me, let alone bring me iced coffee.”

“I will always make time for you. I can’t stay for too long, but I did want to bring you a pick me up. You mentioned that today was budget day and I thought the coffee would help.”

“It does. Thank you so much.”

“I also wanted to thank you. You’ve been so kind and have really helped me out with all of these jobs. Really - I wouldn’t have been able to pay rent or buy groceries without your help. I just finished a huge job building a curio cabinet for your board member Stacey. It paid really well and to thank you I was thinking that maybe I could take you out to dinner on Thursday. Only if you are comfortable with it. I don’t want to put any pressure on you.”

I had lost all of my capability for language. This beautiful, reserved, and sweet man was asking if he could take me out to dinner. I somehow was able to squeak out that I would love to. He shyly looked down at the floor and blepped his tongue.

“Great. I’ve heard great things about Arianna’s on Main Street. Would 7:00 PM work for you?”

“Absolutely. It’s a date.”

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

TAGS:

@larakasser @absurdthirst @yespolkadotkitty @fioccodineveautunnale @wickedfrsgrl

#frankie catfish morales #frankie x oc #catfish x oc #francisco morales #frankie morales #triple frontier #catfish morales #frankie morales fanfic #francisco catfish morales #abuttoncalledsmalls #takeagiantstep #catfish morales fic

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twit-moonstar · 4 years

Text

i fall to pieces: chapter one - roger taylor x fem!reader

N/A: Hey! This is just the first chapter of this little mini series I’ll do. I was intending on doing a big ass one shot but I can’t force myself to finish it so I decided to post what I have and see if there’s actually any interest on reading this. It’s a 80s Roger x Stripper!Reader, in case the little banner didn’t gave it away. Let me know your opinion and reblog the fic if you liked it <3

N/A2: I edited this myself, so pardon me if there’s any grammar mistake or incoherence! (Doesn’t excuse me but) English it’s not my first languaje.

Summary: When Y/N, a dancer at the Blue Velvet stripclub mets rockstar Roger Taylor, she’s torn between mistrust and flirting shamelessly but little by little they find a way to each other’s heart.

Warnings: There’s no smut in this bc i’m not up for it but there will be a few references to sex.

Words: roughly 3K

“Bring you ass here, Laura!” exclaimed Coco and you rejected the various shots that Laura offered you before she walked to Coco with a simple gesture of your hand. Applying the deep wine lipstick carefully, you smile in different ways in the mirror to try to get into this persona you had created for the club.

Working on the club night after night was taking its toll over you, and you were in desperate need of a vacation but you wouldn’t dare to ask Mike about it. Your rent was due in a week and you still needed a few pounds to get the amount of money you needed.

Maybe I should go on that date with that guy, Tate, you think. You already know him and how his crushes tended to go for the girl he had put his eye on—The fortunate chosen one would end up with a new shiny pair of brand shoes and a gold bracelet or a diamond necklace, all of that without even sleeping with him. Of course, those who did sleep with him could get a whole lot more but that wasn’t something that you were thrilled for— and he was certainly interested in you.

You walk out of the dressing room. The club wasn’t yet at its fullest, as it was fairly early yet. The lights, however, were starting to get lowered and soon the place would be bathed in blue and red.

“Busy night, Karma?” asks the new barmaid, Matt, you think. He’s been trying to get into your pants ever since he started to work, but you never pay him any attention.

“Not yet, Matthew,” you reply, passing by without looking at him and walking straight to a group of three men drinking beer and watching to one in particular.

They seem delighted with your presence as if you had chosen them for some special reason. By the end of two songs, you’re fifty pounds richer. It’s not the most you can get, but you’re tired and at this point of the week you don’t even care.

You walk to the bar and observe the club. It wasn’t the fanciest place, but it felt cheery enough for you after all this time. Sometimes it scared you how comfortable you felt there but you had to remember why you had started to work in a place like this.

A group of men enters, laughing at some joke probably, and they stumble to one of the black velvet sofas. As a dancer of the well-known Blue Velvet strip club—or as the owner preferred to call it ‘gentleman’s club’—, it wasn’t uncommon to see band members around. The almost-naked girls were beautiful and the alcohol was the good kind if you had the money, who wouldn’t be attracted to come? So when you recognise at least two of them as Roger Taylor and John Deacon, you’re not surprised.

You walk to the pole that’s right in front of them and start dancing, without looking at them at first, just to catch their attention. Bet they’re good money, you through, lucky me.

Much to your surprise, Roger requests for a private dance, just for him. That flattered you; you wouldn’t deny it. Rockstars usually picked someone else—like Ginger, with her long legs and big ass, or Coco, who had straight blonde hair and nice tits.

Of course, you had your charms, but usually, you would give private dances for rich and boring businessmen in suits. Never someone as exciting as Queen’s drummer.

With his blonde hair, mischievous blue eyes, and delicate yet strong features, he was, by far, the most attractive man you had ever met.

Despite your nervousness, you flashed him a flirty smile that he returned as you led him to a private room. He sits down on the black leather couch while you pour him a glass of whiskey.

“You don’t drink?” He says, taking a gulp and licking his lips afterward. You shake your head no with a little smile.

“I don’t drink while working, Mr. Taylor.”

He asked you then to not call him mister, to which you replied with a smile and an amused ‘yes, sir.’

“What’s your name?”

“Karma,” you replied simply, walking to the little selection of vinyl you had to play. “Do you like Pink Floyd? Or maybe Led Zeppelin?”

You know there’s a lot of magazines that gather trivial information like what’s his favourite band, or book, and even actress, but you never bother to buy them. You’re not greatly interested in keeping up with the life of any rockstar, to be honest. You’re quite busy trying to keep up with your own life.

He cocks his head slightly to the side, thinking for a moment before ignoring your question. “Why did you pick it?”

You weren’t bothered by his curiosity, although not many had asked you about it.

You had earned your nickname in your first week when you slapped a guy when he tried to undress you himself. Whereas some of the girls believed you would be instantly fired, the owner warned you against taking the matter into your own hands next time and let it slide, saying you had to call security next time—unless it was urgent.

To the exception of a few regular clients, who had already heard the story, men usually came to ogle over your body and not to learn anything about you.

“Because I’ll punch anyone who has it coming,” you reply.

“When is that?”

“When someone tries to piss me off trying to get way too handsy when I don’t allow it,” you say with a light and joyous tone. Oh, how you would be happy to throw a punch or two to some idiots that believed that could touch with no consequences because you were wearing little clothes. You had gained pretty much all of your patience just working here.

He took the glass to his mouth again to cover a nascent smile, but you notice the corner of his lips curving upwards.

It made you smile as well.

Despite the more than a generous tip that Roger gave you, you didn’t think he would come back and were pleasantly surprised to see him again two weeks later.

There was a certain lustful glow on his deep blue eyes, and you would lie if you said that the prospect of having his hands all over you didn’t send a jolt of desire straight to your core.

So you decided to end your dance by sitting on his lap, giving him a proper view of your almost naked tits, and taking his hands to slide them to your ass.

A little flirting never hurt anyone, you think.

He grinned at you. “You’re not gonna hit me, right, love?”

“Of course not, sir.”

He squeezed your ass and you grinded against him trying your best to follow the rhythm of the music.

“When does your shift end?”

You almost stop on your tracks at the question but you laugh softly instead.

“We only provide dancing services, sir. Don’t let your hands on my ass confuse you,” you replied teasingly, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. He doesn’t seem offended by the insinuation on your word’s choice but instead amused.

“I was planning on wine and dine you.”

This time you do stop moving and look at him, slowly getting out of his lap and standing in front of him. The music keeps playing, but you don’t move at all as you watch him carefully, searching for any hint of…

What were you looking exactly? Something in his eyes that gave away his true intentions, probably, since you always guided yourself by your mistrust when it came to people, especially men who were older than you.

“You did, huh?”

He’s obviously only interested in seeing what’s down the skimpy lingerie, right?

But he seems sincere, so you smile. “Fine.”

“Can I get your real name now, love? I think I deserve to know with whom I am having dinner,” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, but smiled, nonetheless.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” The way he said your name, like savouring every syllable in his tongue, made your heart give a little jump on your chest. “Nice.”

Despite Roger’s best efforts to impress you and convince you to stay a night at his place, it takes two dates more before you finally agree to do so.

It’s not that you aren’t impressed you have enjoyed very much the expensive wine and fancy restaurants, but you truly enjoy his company and there’s this feeling that if you sleep with him once you will never see him again.

Not that you can see getting involved in a romantic relationship with him, but if you can just spend time with Roger, then you would take the most advantage out of it you could.

“Sit down, put yourself comfortable,” he says, walking into what you assume it’s the kitchen and you nod.

You observe the spacious place. The walls are painted with a warm cream colour, which doesn’t exactly match the wooden furniture, like the shelving on the corner. You’re surprised to see the great number of books and before you realise you’re standing in front of the shelving, caressing delicately a book spine.

You take one out and look at the cover. On the road by Jack Kerouac.

“That’s one of my favourites,” Roger’s voice says on your ear and you jump a little on your spot, which makes him smile. “Have you read it?”

“No. I was about to buy it once, but I choose another,” you say, opening a random page and reading whatever it catches your attention.

«"I love love," she said, closing her eyes, and I promised her beautiful love.”» You smiled. Would it be just a coincidence that you had read exactly that paragraph?

“What’s so funny?” he asks and you read it out loud for him. Roger looks into the nothing, his blue gaze deep in thought.

“That’s a good chapter,” he says simply and you nod, without knowing what to say.

Had been reading something like that a too-bold of a movement? You didn’t expect anything from him, you couldn’t have the luxury to fantasize about him. A few dates can’t mean anything, do they?There’s a strange shift in the air, and you hate it. Ten minutes ago you were laughing and whispering silly things on the corridor while trying to open the flat’s door.

“Do you have something to drink?” you say softly.

“You can keep the book if you want,” Roger said and you looked at the book on your hands. It’s in good condition, which means it’s either new or he hasn’t read it that many times, but he said it’s his favourite and you feel a little bad thinking about taking it.

“Oh, no, that’s fine. I couldn’t,” you say, shaking your head and leaving the book on its place.

“If you don’t want to keep it, you can borrow it.”

“I’ll think about it. Now, what about that drink, uh?”

“Yeah, yeah. You like white wine?”

“Actually, do you have something without alcohol?” you ask, sheepishly, and he nods.

“Of course. You like Cola?”

You both sit down on the couch, facing each other, and drinking.“Y’know, we have been in three dates but I don’t think I know much about you,” he says and you bit your lower lip softly, which only brings his attention to your lips. He’s making conversation before fucking or is interested in knowing you? Men usually weren’t interested in hearing whatever you had to say, it was the sad truth and you had already gotten used to it.

“Nothing worth of telling you, to be honest,” you shrug, taking a sip of your drink.

“That’s a load of crap, and I don’t buy it,” he replies and you smile, before leaving the glass on the little coffee table. Getting closer to him, you finally connected your lips to his. It tastes of wine and the cigarette that he had been smoking earlier while driving.

“Let’s go to your bedroom,” you whisper before deepening the kiss. He pulls apart, getting up and taking your hand to lead the way. Chit chat can come later if he still wants to be around after fucking.

You’re the first to wake up the next morning so you try to be as quiet as possible as you roll out of bed and go to the toilet to refresh yourself a little. You wash your face, trying to get rid of the eyeshadow under your eye as much as possible, and after you’re satisfied you tie your hair on a loose ponytail.

You’re already dressed, so all you need to do is get your bag and coat, write him a note or say goodbye if he’s awake and leaves. You open the toilet door and go to the living. Just as you’re putting on your coat, Roger gets out of the kitchen with a water bottle on his hand and smiles at you like he’s thinking gotcha.

“Stay for breakfast?”

“I got things to do,” you lie quickly. Roger raises an eyebrow, probably questioning your answer.

You’re one to value honesty but right now, you can’t bring yourself to spend more time with him. He’ll start to ask questions and that’s the last thing you want, as much as you like his company.

“Really? I’m starting to think you’re just using me for sex,” he says, with mocking hurt and you try not to smile.

“That’s a low blow,” you accuse.“What you got?”

“Coffee, toast and pop tarts,” he recites with closed eyes like he’s mentally looking through his cupboard.

You think he probably doesn’t have a lot of food right now since it’s the last days of the months. You wondered if someone did shopping for him and when was the last time he did? Did he ever do that? Was he able to do it now, being famous and all?

“What flavour?”

“Strawberry?”

“I want two,” you demand. Roger just nods with a smile.

You walk inside the kitchen and sit on a stool by the breakfast bar and observe Roger preparing breakfast. He’s wearing a white shirt and black sweatpants; his hair is dishevelled but it gives him certain charm.

“You slept well?” Roger asks, placing your coffee in front of you.

“Yeah, I think I can confidently say your bed is the most comfortable I’ve slept in.”

“You’re welcomed in again whenever you please,” he winks, taking a sip of his tea.

“Shut up,” you reply, taking a bit of your pop tart but you’re smiling.

“I’m serious, though, I’d love to repeat that. Dinner included, of course.”

“We’ll see,” you just say.

A long beat happens before you speak again. “Why are you so interested in me?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he says, sipping on his cup.

You sigh. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t, I’m just saying it’s strange.”

He raises an eyebrow, and his blue eyes are inquisitive, looking at your face like he could find on your eyes the answer to your constant changes between being apprehensive and flirting shamelessly. “Why?”

“Because I- I thought men like you wouldn’t be interested in someone like me?”

“Someone like you?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I think I can be interesting and, maybe, a good company but you could be with anyone you want,” you state like it’s obvious like it’s the kind of thing every man with a highly successful career thinks.

“And I want to spend my time with you, guess it’s because you’re good company,” he states, matter of factly but your expression must give away that you’re not so convinced so he takes one of your hands and interlocks your fingers.

“Look, I like you and as long as you’re willing to entertain my interest on you, I’m gonna keep asking you out.”He looks at your hands for a second before looking up to see you smiling down at him.

“Fine. I like you too, you know?”

“I know,” he replies with a cheeky smile.

“But I gotta go,” you say and he lets go of your hand.

“Can I pass to the toilet?“

“Go ahead, you know where it is.”

After you’re done, you get out of the toilet to put your coat on and get your purse. However, you’re not exactly sure of how to say goodbye, so you stand awkwardly in front of him, close by the door.

“C’mere,” he chuckles, softly pushing you flush against him and cradling your face to kiss your lips with delicately.

“See ya soon, love.” He opens the door and you step outside on the corridor.

“Goodbye, Rog. Thanks for yesterday, I enjoyed it very much,” you smile.

He grins. “Well, of course ya did.”

“Don’t get too cocky now, Taylor, you lean towards him, your mouth close to his ear. “It wasn’t me begging last night, after all,” you whisper and kiss his cheek quickly, like fearing being seen, and start walking to the elevator.

He watches you with a smile until the elevator door closes.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x y/n #roger taylor x you #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor x female reader

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with-love-anu · 4 years

Text

Desiderata: The Reveal

PART: 5

WORD COUNT: 2K

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Reader

SUMMARY: You had been best friends with James, Remus, Sirius and Peter. Read your journey of love, friendship and jealousy through your wonderful years at Hogwarts. Enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST

As you moved through the train looking for the compartment and your friends, you couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious. You had always worn simple T-Shirts and jeans at school. Now, as you walked wearing a coral pink off-shoulder top and some high-waist denims, you could suddenly feel people noticing you. It made you smile, the new found attention. You finally saw your besties sitting in the second last compartment.

“Fangs!”

James hugged you as you entered. He held you at arm’s length, his hands on the either side of your shoulders as he took a good look at you. “Wow! You look so pretty!”

“Well, I take it you like my new look.” You smiled smugly cocking an eyebrow.

“I don’t know about him, but I freaking love it” Remus piped in as he came forward and practically engulfed you.

“Remus…can’t…breathe…” you choked out as Remus chuckled releasing you.

You turned to find peter as red as a tomato and Sirius beside him. He stared at you with a somewhat surprised expression on his face, his mouth slightly ajar. It took him a second before he came forward and pulled you into a tight hug and whispered, “I missed you” his breath tickling your ear. You blushed and slowly pulled away from him.

After you all settled down, you told them about your trip to India. Sirius had spent most of the summer at James’s house and the way their eyes sparkled mischievously, you knew they had done much more than have some “fun”. Remus had spent his summer engrossed in the books you’d lent him. Having read through your collection more than 3 times and knowing Remus would take good care of them, you had given them all to him for the summer. Peter had travelled to the country side with his family.

When you’d finally reached the great hall, you couldn’t wait for the sorting to get over and to dig into the feast prepared by the school elves. You were sitting beside Lily who had pulled your ear on seeing you. (“Y/n Y/l/n! You had no time to see me!”)

James who sat in front of you was continually giving you looks, pestering you to make Lily talk to him. After a while, you started ignoring him all together because you knew how infuriated lily would get if you did that just now. Lily and you talked about your vacations. You told her how your sister wanted to give you this big makeover and you just took the opportunity. Lily listened to you a small frown occurring in her eyes. You asked her about it.

“Nothing, it’s just that my own sister Petunia hates me. I wish I had same relationship you have with your sister.” Lily told you. “But anyways, I love your new look and I could already see the boy’s heads turning in you direction” she said wriggling her eyebrows.

“Lily!” you said smacking her arm.

Lily giggled and you couldn’t help but wonder about her. You two always had been close friends but you couldn’t spend that much time with each other as you had the marauders and she, Snape. Now, when she just told you about her sister, you couldn’t help but worry a little. It was the same way Sirius had first mentioned Regulus. You saw how she just mentioned her with a sad glint in her eyes before brushing it away. You doubted that Lily had someone she could talk to about this. Although she was friends with the other dorm-mates you knew that the two of you were the closest. You decided in that moment that you would at least try to strengthen your friendship with her.

When you were both ready to sleep in your respective dorm rooms, you took her into the bathroom with you so that others wouldn’t hear. You pestered her to sneak out. She glared at you but you could be persuasive when you wanted to. She put up a good fight before finally giving in.

“Y/n, if I get caught you would be responsible”

“What would teachers say?”

“I am a prefect; I am supposed to stop these things”

“Y/n you are a bad influence on me”

“Y/n are you even listening to me?”

You huffed. You could very well see beneath the annoyed façade that Lily was enjoying herself. She couldn’t even keep the small smile off her face. You wouldn’t lie if you said that she had a mischievous side to her. You smirked.

“You need to stay quiet. I know that this is your first time sneaking out, but trust me I won’t let you get caught.” You told her.

“Okay”

As you reached the fruit bowl painting you couldn’t help but put in a bit of drama.

“Lily Evans, my closest dorm mate, (Lily face palmed) I present to you my secret of bringing snacks to our dorm. Now, I am only letting you know this because you, yes you NEED to loosen up a bit and also you’ve proved yourself to be worthy to me”

You made wide hand gestures as you entered the kitchens. After Lily decided she had looked around enough, you both sat down drinking some hot chocolate. The two of you laughed and joked around talking about everything from the teachers to the portraits at Hogwarts. You were mildly surprised to find Lily having this wild side to her. She was fierce and bold and definitely not the girl who followed every single school rule. You could see how perfect she was for James, but you didn’t raise your opinions just yet.

“Tell me, why hadn’t we done this before?” Lily asked, her face as red as her hair, from laughing all the way up to the common room.

“You insisted on following the rules so much, that’s why.” You told her smiling. You both went up to your dorm plopping down on the mattress, soon falling into deep slumber.

Next morning, when you went down the breakfast table you couldn’t help but feel a little sleepy due to the last night’s endeavours. You poured yourself a large cup of coffee and piled on some toast and fruit. You saw Sirius come in flirting with some Ravenclaw girl. You huffed and felt that familiar pinch yet again. You were tired, tired of pinning after the boy who would never reciprocate your feelings. When you were going through the makeover, you thought that maybe, maybe Sirius would notice you. But he clearly never did or ever will. You mentally cursed James and Remus for putting the little hope in your head.

Your thoughts were interrupted by someone calling your name. You turned around and saw Sebastian, Ruuhaan, Alex, Charlotte and Grace smirking at you. Over the years you all had become great friends. They were all from different houses. Sebastian and Charlotte from Ravenclaw, Alex and Grace from Hufflepuff and Ruuhaan from Slytherin.

“How come we are last to know about your new look?” Alex asked smirking at you.

“What? You don’t like it?” you said twirling around so they could see your striped culotte jumpsuit.

“Oh everyone loves it” Ruuhaan said winking at you. You smiled as the group fell into an easy conversation.

“So, Sunday 2pm we start this year’s study session” Grace said as she started to leave.

“I really can’t wait to go back and study” You said in a high pitched tone, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Sebastian sniggered as Grace smacked you.

“That hurt!!” you pouted.

“We just don’t study and you know it! Anyways, remind Remus too.” Grace said.

You looked back seeing Lily sitting alone eating her breakfast. You glanced at the Slytherin table to see Snape sitting with Malfoy, Avery and Mulciber.

“Can I bring Lily too? She’s real nice outside the prefect duties and being the perfect student” You asked.

“Of course why not?” Charlotte said. “Besides Ruuhaan is bringing his crush, Candice too.” she added winking.

Ruuhaan blushed. He had a crush on Candice for years and had gathered the courage to talk to her after huge amount of pestering from you all.

“So, it’s settled then!” Sebastian cut in saving Ruuhaan from any teasing. As they slowly went their ways you plopped down next to Lily and saw James and Peter had already taken seats opposite to you and were eating. Remus always came in the last moment at breakfast being the sleepy head he was.

“Lily, are you free this Sunday 2pm?” you asked Lily.

“Yes. Why?”

“Okay so I have this study group I go to where we usually do our homework but time to time we also have fun. There are people from all the houses and honestly speaking; we get our work done earlier than most people. I mean with different views, loads of notes and research work from 7 different people does make things easier.” You explained.

“So, this is the actual reason you score at least an “E” in every class? I’m impressed. I didn’t know there were people who take their homework seriously.” Lily said an amused look on her face.

“Am I hearing a yes?” you said delighted.

“I’ll be there.”

The first day was exhausting. You had gone through double potions and herbology. Teachers were all on about how you needed to work hard for the upcoming owls and you had already got 3 essays to write by the next week. So, as you moved towards the last class, defense against the dark arts, you were hoping to get over with it as soon as possible.

You sat beside James and Sirius who were in the same predicament as you were. Professor Vane was new defense against the dark arts’ teacher. He was an old man who looked like a walking corpse.

“Settle down please.” He drowned in a monotonous voice and you knew he wouldn’t be able to handle your wild classmates. He went and sat on a high chair facing the class and remained there for the entirety of the lesson. He went on about how although you all would be practicing certain spells the main focus would be on the theory. You groaned internally. Great, just great. With Voldermort on the rise, the increasing tension in the wizarding world, you wouldn’t even be taught about how to handle yourself in a battle. You were passionate about the things you believed in and stopping this pureblood mania was one of them. So, as he droned on and on about different spells and their usage you couldn’t help but be disappointed.

While the class went on, James mindlessly writing lily on the corners of the page filling it with small hearts, Sirius winking and passing notes with Marlene (you were glaring at him, but apparently he never noticed) ; an idea struck you. When the class finished you beckoned the marauders to a small corner.

“Listen, I have an idea. I don’t think Vane is ever going to teach us anything useful and I want to be able to defend myself and be strong enough to go on missions against the death eaters.” You looked to see the boys faces darkened with a grim expression.

“What I am trying to propose is a club. Not like the duelling club where people go to have some fun. I want to learn things that would help me keep myself and others safe. I have seen the procedure for making the club and I am sure we would be allowed if we followed the rules. People can teach each other what we are best at. Remus can help us with attacking spells; Lily can with the defensive ones and I could help teach others basic healing procedures- spells and potions. That’s what it is about in the end, isn’t it? Helping each other? Staying strong together?” you spoke out.

The boys took a moment thinking about what you just said. You knew they were as eager to learn as you were. Remus spoke up first.

“I’m in” Remus said with an expression that told you he was determined to make this work.

“Me too.”

“I’m in”

“Sure. Why not?”

You were positively delighted to see them agreeing.

“But, who else would be there?” James asked.

“Oh, you’ll see. Leave that to me” You added smirking knowing exactly who you were going to call and were sure that they’ll agree.

SERIES MASTERLIST

#sirius imagine #sirius x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter #sirius #james x reader #remusx reader #black x reader #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #sirius black #desidereta #my work

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