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nightwishesworld · 4 years ago

Note

hello! do you think you could do a chapter with fem!reader whose afraid of thunderstorms and wakes up in the middle of the night because of it but doesn’t wanna wake alcina so she just stays awake but the storm goes on for like a week and this keeps happening until she notices and comforts you through it by like cuddles or talking you to sleep to distract you from it :)

Oh my god I hate the way this came out. My brain just could not process this for some reason. I also couldn't make it as long as a week, my apologies.

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

One dark evening at Castle Dimitrescu a storm rolled in. Relatively speaking, it was quite harmless and most of the inhabitants of the castle were unbothered by the storm.

Except you.

Late into the evening, whilst most were asleep, the storm was at its strongest - the crackle of thunder rolling through the halls as flashes of lightning illuminated the darkest corners of the room. You were trying to sleep, honest, but just as you felt the drowsiness of rest come to take you - a loud crack of thunder would jolt you awake and paralyze you with fear.

You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing rapid.

You pulled the covers up to your chest and hugged your pillow close to your chest. Resisting the urge to run and hide in the closet like you used to do as a kid was becoming more and more difficult.

Another flash, another boom.

You knew it wasn’t logical, but you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching or jumping as the sounds of the storm roared outside. It was just so loud and you could swear the castle was shaking with it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, white-knuckling the pillow held tight against your chest and humming a song to yourself in order to distract your brain.

The sound of constant rain was suddenly accompanied by heavy hail falling, and that’s when the thoughts started charging at you full force.

What if the lightning strikes the castle? What if the castle collapsed? Did it have the right infrastructure? What if-

“Stop it, God. Stop it!” You begged your brain but to no avail. Your mind kept generously providing you with possibilities and images you did not ask for.

Another loud boom and this time you couldn’t help the cry let out before clapping a hand over your mouth and diving under the blankets.

When you didn’t hear anything for a few minutes you felt it safe enough to come out of hiding. Thankfully the vampire slumbering next to you wasn’t disturbed by your pathetic cries and whimpers. She had a rough day dealing with a very pissed off Mother Miranda and needed rest and relaxation as much as she could possibly get.

You forced yourself to lay still on your back and focus all your energy on controlling your breathing. That was the key to saving yourself a panic attack. You don’t know how long you were staring up at the ceiling, but dawn eventually came and your partner stirred from her sleep.

She would have been happy to see you if not for the redness in your eyes and puffiness surrounding them, obvious signs of lack of sleep.

“Are you alright, draga mea?” She wrapped her arms around your midsection and rested her head on your shoulder, kissing your cheek.

You didn’t answer, even though you knew Alcina wouldn’t just drop the question. She was sweet and caring like that, which is probably why you never had the heart to tell her how much of a coward you actually are.

“You didn’t sleep very well, did you?”

“Nightmares,” you rasped, trying to focus on Alcina more than the low rumbling outside. “I’ll be fine after a cup of coffee.”

She looked as though she didn’t accept that answer but quickly hid any doubts behind a warm smile. “If you’re sure.”

It felt wrong lying to her. You had never felt the need to hide anything from Alcina before, but this was just embarrassing. She’d probably laugh at you told her you were still afraid of thunderstorms.

The day progressed with relative normalcy despite the occasional sounds of rumbling. Alcina busied herself dealing with the mountain of paperwork on her desk for Mother Miranda and the girls were running amuck in the basement. Depending on which room you were in you could hear their laughter below you. Their mischief down there has always been a mystery to you, even now after living in the castle a couple of years. You knew what they were doing, but couldn't fathom the idea of enjoying it so much. You did find it rather disturbing that their torturing frightened you less than a stupid thunderstorm.

You huddled in the back section of the library behind the bookshelves so you couldn’t see the lightning out the windows. The loud rumbling still had you on edge, but a good book is always a welcome distraction. It worked so well, that you didn't hear Daniela approaching. You practically jumped three feet in the air when she was stood in front of you.

“What’s wrong with you?” Daniela asked, her voice was stern, but it also had a concerning tone to it. She had dropped her bag, keeping the knife at her side. Your breathing was heavier than usual as you tried to think of what to say. It was more than embarrassing to tell Daniela the truth. You knew for a fact she out of everyone in the castle would laugh at you. "You scared me,"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Dummy, I mean what's really wrong?"

You shrug and turn the page of your book. “Nothing.”

Another boom. You couldn’t fight off flinched.

“Oh, I think I get it. You’re afraid of-”

“Don’t tell anyone.” You clenched your fists, shutting your eyes tightly. Daniela wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. You watched as she cautiously sat back down. The redhead sat in front of you, the rain somehow sounding even louder than it had before. You looked over at Daniela, feeling the embarrassment creep upon you.

Daniela started at you with a rather confused expression, resting her arms on her knees. “Out of everything we’ve been through,” she began, “everything you’ve seen us do. Everything that goes on in this castle just below your feet,” she paused. “And you’re scared of thunder?”

You sat silently and twiddled your thumbs.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you whisper. “It’s not important. You’re only going to run off and tell everyone.”

Daniela rolled her eyes and picked up her bag, headed once again for the basement. “Whatever, y/n, have it your way.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening shuffling around the library hiding from the white flashes. It was only when Daniela came to fetch you for dinner that you left. Luckily you were eating in the kitchen instead of the larger Dining Hall. The kitchen is much more manageable; marginally fewer windows to see the lightning. The meal carried on as it normally would; the girls boasted about their successes in the basement, Alcina discusses all the work she got done today and complains about the work she put off for tomorrow. It was almost enough to take your mind off the chaos happening just outside the windows. Almost.

The storm carried on just as confidently throughout the evening and into the night. It showed no signs of relenting, which in turn meant another sleepless night.

You wasted no time stripping your clothes and crawling into bed, back to the open windows. Alcina didn’t think much of it, simply chalking it up to being exhausted from the previous night’s lack of sleep. She wasn’t completely wrong, you did feel like you were ready to sleep for the next 24 hours. But you knew the storm wouldn’t allow you that luxury.

Pressure against your back and an arm wrapping around your midsection snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I hope you sleep tonight, my love.”

“Me too.”

An hour later and you were still wide awake listening to the rain being pelted against the windows. An anxious voice whispered impossible scenarios of the rain breaking through the windows and lightning striking you down in the safety of your bed. You tried your hardest to not toss and turn as to not disturb the woman next to you. She's not asleep yet, you can tell by the lack of snoring, but her breathing is starting to even out. You were curled up on your side, back to Alcina. She wrapped you in her arms, her chest against your back and arm across your waist. "Dove..." she whispered in your ear. "Y/n... "

"I'm sleeping, Al." You murmured snuggling further into the vampire’s arms, your eyes still closed.

"No, you're not." She stroked your side absently. “Are you sure you’re ok? You aren’t falling ill are you?”

You sigh. “No, I’m not getting sick. My body is just too exhausted to relax.”

Alcina hummed, burrowing her face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll stay up with you for a while.”

“You will not. Go to sleep Al, I’ll be fine. You had a long day yourself, one of us should be able to sleep."

"Why don't we go sit in the Drawing Room or the Library? I'll hold you in my lap and read to you." God no. Way too many windows. "Goodnight, Alcina." You feel her sigh against your skin, pushing a few stray hairs around. "Can I do anything?" "Stop worrying, it's just insomnia." "I'll stay up with you then. You shouldn't be up all by yourself staring at the ceiling." "I'm not alone, Love, you're right here with me. Asleep or not I'm still in your arms, and that helps a lot." You feel her smile against your neck and pull you closer against her front. "wake me if you need anything."

You actually slept fairly well; only waking up a few times to have Alcina soothe you back to sleep. Being tucked away in her embrace did a world of help, but you still woke up hours before Alcina did. Her eyes fluttered open and focus on your groggy face. She frowns.

"Did you sleep at all?"

You smile and kiss her lips. "Yes, I actually slept a lot better last night than before."

"Good," she pulls you back to kiss you again.

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

Later in the afternoon Bela and Cassandra invited (dragged you really) into the Drawing Room to play a game of cards.

Everything was going really well. You were laughing and playing with the girls like everything was as it should be in Castle Dimitrescu.

You were made astutely aware of the situation outside again when a loud crack of thunder shook the castle. There was another flash and clap of thunder, this time loud enough to make Cassandra flinch.

You abruptly shot up from the table. “Sorry. I need a minute.” You rushed down the hall into one of the guest rooms. Cassandra and Bela shared a confused glance and watched as you hurried away. They’d never seen you so flighty and nervous before. Neither could tell what was wrong.

They laid on the carpet and silently counted to sixty before following you to down the corridor.

“Y/n?” Bela softly knocked on the door. “It’s been a minute.”

There was no response. More thunder. Bela frowned. “We’re coming in, okay?”

She opened the door a crack and poked her head inside. You were nowhere to be seen. “Y/n?” Cassandra called, stepping further inside and glancing around the room. The sisters checked under the bed, then under the covers, even under the shade of the bedside lamp. Then Bela peered out of the rain-soaked window for good measure. Where else could you be?

Just as Cassandra decided she was stumped, she heard a rustling from behind her and a muffled, “I’m in here.” She turned around in confusion because the only place they hadn’t checked in that direction was…

They crept over to the closet and carefully slid open the door. The girls smiled when they found you sitting on the ground, curled up with your head between your knees. “Playing hide and seek now, are we?” Bela said. “Next round I call being the— um, y/n?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, staying right where you were. “Sorry.”

“S-Sorry for what…?” Cassandra crouched down beside you. The closet almost had enough space for the three of you to fit.

“Y/n, please. Something’s obviously bothering you, can’t you tell us?”

All three of you startled as another flash of lightning cut into the room, followed by another growl of thunder. You tightened your grip around your legs. Bela’s jaw dropped.

“It’s the storm,” she said, half a question, half a statement. “You’re scared of thunder?”

“It’s childish.”

“Oh, y/n…”

“I’m weak. Something as dumb and simple as loud noises shouldn’t make me so—”

“Y/n. Look at me.” Cassandra’s gently stern tone convinced you to move your head so your chin rested on your knees. You side-eyed the girls, trying to imitate your usual stoicism. It was difficult with red-rimmed eyes.

“A phobia doesn’t make you childish, or weak— do you know how many people have a fear of thunder, y/n? A lot of humans.”

“A lot of Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans as well,” Bela chimed in.

“And are you going to go around insulting them? No, Y/n, because that’s not nice. So don’t insult yourself for the same thing.” Cassandra waved around her index finger as she spoke. Your eyes widened and followed the movement. Both girls laughed.

“Is that what’s been giving you nightmares?”

You shake your head. “I just haven’t been sleeping; too tense.”

Cassandra giggled. “Just ask mother for extra cuddles, not like she’ll say no.”

“Or a more intimate distraction,” Bela winked.

Both sisters giggle at the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“Can we sit here with you?” Bela asked, already taking the vacant spot on your right.

You shrugged— as much as you could in this balled-up position. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s ok y/n, we don’t mind.”

They sat on either side of you, Bela holding your hand, enjoying the comfortable silence that cast over you.

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

A loud crack of thunder jolted Alcina awake. Cursing to herself she eyed the clock across the room–2:06 am. Raking a hand down her face, she jolted again when another crack of thunder echoed through the castle. It wasn’t a minute later that an insistent downpour of rain started pelting the roof and windows followed by an angry howling of the wind. You stirred next to her in the bed. You were mumbling in what sounded like a mix of Romanian and English. Alcina swallowed thickly because she knew what that meant; another night terror. She laid back down and curled herself against you, cocooning herself against your back. Alcina placed a few stray kisses on your shoulders and the nape of your neck, smoothing her hands along your hipbone in the process. You calmed after a few minutes, your mumbling returning to the steadying breaths of deep sleep. Alcina sighed in relief and closed her eyes in hopes that she could drift back to sleep.

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Alcina sat up on the bed and saw you still appeared to be sleeping, though you looked somewhat agitated. She reached over and attempted to run her fingers through your hair but all that succeeded in doing was causing you to jolt awake.

You woke up with a strangled yell and starting crawling out from underneath the sheets. You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing and heart rate rapid. Alcina crawled over and realized you were having a panic attack. “Y/n, can you hear me?” You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as tears started leaking from the corners. You clamped a hand over your mouth, and Alcina realized you were trying to silence your breathing. “Honey no, don’t do that, just focus on me,” she pulled your hand away from your mouth slowly. You shook your head and tried to take your hand back. “No no no... I can’t- I-I-I can’t wake Al-Alcina,” you gasped. “It’s alright, Dove, just follow my breathing.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths to demonstrate. You started calming down slightly. “That’s it, everything is alright, just keep breathing.” You seemed to calm down more with the breathing exercises. “I’m going to get you a glass of water“ Alcina started to say, but was cut off by you grabbing her arm. “No! Don’t-don’t lea- don’t leave, please, don’t- don’t” you closed her eyes, her breath quickening again. “Sweetheart, breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Alcina took your hand and put it on her chest. “Breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Your breathing returned to normal. After sitting in silence for a bit, Alcina turned to her.

“Another night terror?” She asked. You looked away for a minute, ashamed of yourself.

“No.”

God, you probably woke her up, good job.

Alcina couldn’t keep an amused smile from forming. “Can my little dove not sleep because of the thunderstorm?”

As if on cue, a blinding bolt of lightning crackled down from the sky. The following rumble of thunder seemed to shake the castle. You let out a whimper and shielded yourself from the sky. “How could I possibly sleep when it sounds like the sky is falling?!”

Alcina hums and pulls you close against her. “There’s nothing wrong with a healthy fear, Dove. It brings out the human in you.”

“UGH! Just-!”

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Another shriek, barely muffled by Alcina’s shoulder, had you violently trembling. You were barely holding yourself together.

Wracked with terror, eyes shut tightly, you found yourself unable to prevent the reflexive compulsion to cling to something nearby.

Which, in this case, was Alcina, who was left staring in shocked silence at the violently trembling form with arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She immediately wrapped her arms around you again and began rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Calm down. You’re fine,” She spoke softly, ignoring the buzz under her skin as she soaked in the unwitting embrace like a dry sponge in water. Soothingly, she rubbed up to your shoulder blades. “There we are, my love,” Alcina chuckled. “I’ve got you. Listen to my voice,” She rumbled, speaking soft but firm as the thunder forced smaller tremors through the floor. “You’re going to relax. I’m going to help you. Just lay here with me and close your eyes. I’ll hold you all night if you want me to.”

Gradually, the sound faded and petered off back into the loud patter of rain against the windows but Alcina held you tightly still. She could feel the flutter of your heartbeat against her own, almost impressed that you hadn’t passed out from fear alone.

“Why didn’t you say anything? The storm’s been going on for days now you must have been petrified.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” you mumbled into her neck. “It’s a pathetic fear I’ve had since I was a kid. I don’t want you to think less of me.”

“You think something as trivial as a phobia would make me think less of you?” She pulled you even tighter against her. You melted into her embrace. “Clearly I haven’t been a very good partner to you.”

“No Al, it’s not like that. Gods, you’re an amazing partner. It’s just my stupid insecurities. You’re all so fearless and brave. You’re not afraid of anything, and then there’s me; tiny, inferior, afraid of a little thunderstorm.”

She sighed and continued rubbing circles on your back. “I’m not fearless.”

“Yeah right,” you scoff. “What could the great and powerful Alcina Dimitrescu possibly be afraid of?”

“Death.”

You wriggled out of her arms just enough to turn and face her. “What? But, you’re immortal. Death isn’t really something you have to worry about.”

She gave a small smile and brought a hand to cup your face. “I never said my death, sweet one.”

Oh...OH

“The girls are clever, they can get themselves out of most situations unscathed, but still, we can be slain. And there have been some pretty close calls in the past. And you,” she rubbed gentle circles on your cheek. “Your death is inevitable. It gnaws at the back of my mind every time I look at you. Every time morning I have to untangle myself from your embrace I remember that one day I’ll wake up alone and wish I cuddled with you for just a bit longer."

"Al, I didn't-"

"I can't always be there to protect you, including the girls. If I could take the brunt of all conflict for you I would gladly do so, but that's unfortunately not how life works. I'm just left worrying until I know for sure you're all safe."

She hummed into your neck and kissed your pulse point. "How selfish of me, I'm supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around. If I paid more attention I would have known, I’m sorry, my love.”

“Don’t apologize, just hold me.”

Alcina kissed the top of your head. “With pleasure.”

Soon enough you did fall asleep again, your arms still clinging tight around the vampire’s upper midsection. Alcina found a comfortable enough position and allowed herself to drift away as well.

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady Alcina #tall vampire lady #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Text

Afterglow - Part 12

A/N: Hello! Are you all ready for some of the softest Frankie and Bee? Because yeah...it got soft! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: language, references to sex, one punch

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

1 Year Later

“Hi Honey!” an exhausted sigh escaped your lips as you dropped your book bag by the door and kicked off your shoes. The smell of something delicious cooking immediately reached your nose as you the sound of two feet and four paws met your ears. A grin spread across your face as you spied Daisy and Frankie rushing towards you.

“Hi Bee,” he beamed as he wrapped you up in his arms and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head, “you’re just in time - I just finished dinner. How was school?”

“Good,” you pressed a kiss to his lips before reaching down and giving Daisy a handful of pets, “long though. I’m exhausted! Oh, but we learned about lemurs and their evolutionary history and it was just so...interesting. They’re so cute and there’s so many species. For one of our assignments we need to go and observe primates at the zoo and I thought I could watch the lemurs! But - oops, I don’t want to bore you. How was your day, Frankie?”

“You will never bore me,” he quickly cut off any negative thoughts or ideas you had. You couldn’t help but grin at him, as he reached up and gently cradled your face in his hands, “whatever you want to tell me, you know you can. I want to hear about it all. Yes?”

“Yes,” you agreed, knowing that if this was anyone but Frankie, the outcome would have been a very different result. Especially if you’d gotten...no. You weren’t even going to let your mind go to that place. Not when your whole world was in front of you, “I love you, Frankie.”

“I love you too,” a gentle brush of noses as the two of you grinned at each other. You opened your mouth to say something but were quickly cut off by the loud rumbling of your stomach, “dinner time. Come on, let’s eat and you can tell me all about your lemurs.”

“Only if you tell me all about your day,” you took his outstretched hand and let him lead you to the kitchen. To your delighted surprise, you found a bouquet of sunflowers and daisies on the counter, “those are beautiful!”

“They’re for you,” he said simply as he pulled two plates from the cabinet. Your brows knitted together in surprise as you quickly wracked your brain as you tried to figure out if you’d missed some sort of holiday or anniversary, “they’re a just because I felt like it surprise. I saw them when I took Daisy for a walk after work. I thought you’d like them.”

“I love them,” you touched some of the soft petals, “and you - very, very much.”

“I know,” he winked as he plated up some of the pasta and sauce and you took a seat at the counter. You liked this - this simple, wonderful domesticity of getting to come home with and live with your lover. Not just your lover - but your love. The man that had had your heart forever it had seemed. You couldn’t help but spot the pictures of the two of you on the fridge, beaming and grinning from ear to ear. They’d been taken on a camping trip the two of you’d gone on earlier in the year. Frankie caught your far off look and chuckled softly, “what’s wrong, sweet Bee?”

“Nothing,” you reassured him, “I just...I like this a whole lot. Us, being together, everything. It feels so...right, natural.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he promised as he set a plate in front of you, “you were always the one, Bee.”

“Just like you, Francisco,” you leaned into his side as he brought his plate next to you. Just before sitting down, he reached into the giant glass canister that was filled with treats for Daisy. She looked at him with wide, shining eyes as he gently handed her a few treats; you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, “I imagine she’s had dinner and cannot be starving.”

“That may be, but we’re eating now and I don’t want her to feel left out,” he insisted as you broke into a fit of giggles at his silly insistence. He scoffed playfully before taking his spot next to you, “you laugh, but you know she’s very perceptive.”

“I do know,” you agreed as you nudged his side, “what a caring, considerate boyfriend I have indeed.”

You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek as you looked at him fondly. There was so much light and life behind his eyes now, so much happiness. They crinkled into the corners whenever he smiled and his one dimple made a spectacular appearance. His hair had grown out more, chocolate tinged with caramel and curling deliciously at the ends. He looked so happy and healthy, so much better than he had when you’d first reunited. It hadn’t always been easy for him, and some days were harder, but he’d never had a set back once, despite the darkest days. In the end, it had been you. You’d been the shining beacon, the light of his life, and had gotten him to have the courage and strength to get through it all. Just like on your bad days, he was there for you.

“It’s been a year, you know,” he whispered after you’d eaten in silence, using a piece of bread to scoop up that last bit of sauce. You looked at him in confusion for a moment before you realized what he was speaking about, “since we’ve been together...again.”

“It feels like it’s been no time at all,” you said softly, “and yet it feels like its always been like this.”

“I agree,” he grinned as he swallowed his last bite, causing you to giggle as some sauce clung to the corner of his mouth. His brows knitted in confusion as you leaned over and swiped your thumb over the sauce and wiped it away. Frankie grabbed your hand and licked your thumb clean before holding it against his scruffy cheek. You felt flushed at the gesture, both intimate and sweet in its own way, “I love you, Bee.”

“I love you too, you silly man,” you sighed in content.

“Now - tell me all about your day,” he insisted as he walked to the fridge to get a couple of beers, “no details spared. Hit me with them!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“This is beautiful,” you made quick work of unzipping your light sweater and tossing it onto the large, plush blanket Frankie had laid out for your little picnic. Despite having seen you in countless variations of clothing, Frankie still managed to be astounded by your beauty; he felt his heart thump wildly as he looked at you in only your sports bra and leggings. You turned and gave him a curious smile, “what? Do I have something on my face?”

"No, it's nothing," he promised with a shy smile as you walked over to him and played a lock of his hair, "you're beautiful."

"Oh my gosh," you snorted with laughter as you gently pushed his chest, "such a fool, Francisco! You've known me for how long? You can't possibly still feel that way."

"I'll always feel that way about you," he insisted with a cheeky grin, "especially when you look like that. Nice ass."

"Haha," you flipped him the bird before strolling over to the water. Stopping at the edge, you made a quick show of pulling off your leggings and bra. Luckily, you were in a very secluded area and no one was likely to stumble upon you, "have you seen yours? Nice ass! Now come on and get in the water!"

"Why?" he groaned lightly at the enticing sight as he pulled off his shirt and shorts, and came over to you. You both knew he would give in to you. He would be a fool to turn you done.

"Its a perfect day for a swim," you insisted before diving into the cool, gentle water, "come on in, Frankie! The water is wonderful!"

“It’s cold,” he huffed lightly, watching as you swam back up and broke through the surface, grinning at him. He reminded you so much of the boy you had convinced to swim with you when you were just kids. You splashed some water at him, causing him to give a jokingly stern look before he swam over to you, “I’m going to get you!”

“No!” you grinned like mad before trying to swim away, but he was quick to catch up and wrap his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest, “you’re a cheater!”

“How am I a cheater?” he laughed as he rested his chin on your shoulder, “all I did was swim!”

“I don’t know,” you insisted, but I know you did. He laughed as you quit struggling against him and let him hold you. As his grip loosened, you turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck before pressing a kiss to his plush lips, “hi.”

“Hi,” naturally Frankie took every opportunity to steal a kiss from you. You studied his face, bringing a hand to his cheek as you used a few fingers to trace over his features and breathe in him. How he was still the same boy underneath the years that had aged him to the man you now loved, “what?”

“Nothing,” you repeated his words from earlier, “I just love you a lot. Like a lot, a lot.”

“Well that’s good,” his grin stretched from ear to ear, “or else this would have been really awkward, because I happen to love you a lot, a lot too.”

You only made a small sound in your throat before you grabbed his face and pulled him towards you and crashed your lips again his, “fuck - I love you so much.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"This was a good idea," you popped a few berries into your mouth before turning your head back to soak up some soon, "what caused this spur of the moment decision?"

Except it wasn’t spur of the moment at all. But you didn't know that yet.

“Nothing really,” he insisted with a small grin, “just wanted to spend the afternoon with my favorite girl.”

“Favorite, huh? What about Daisy? I see those eyes you two pull at each other,” you grabbed the glass champagne and downed it all in one, hiccuping at the bubbly taste. He wasted no time in refilling your glass and his, trying to summon up the courage for what he really wanted to say.

“Okay, you got me - one of my favorite girls,” he laughed before clinking his glass against yours. You let out a small sigh before lying on your back and resting your head on Frankie’s thigh, “tired?”

“A little,” your yawn gave you away, “it was a long night and someone insisted I get up early and go hiking and everything. Plus the warm sun and food isn’t helping. I promise I won’t fall asleep...for long.”

“Mhmm,” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple.

It was silent for some time, only the gentle ebb of the lake and the sounds of birds in the trees and creatures on the ground meeting your ears. You could have dozed off, but didn’t quite yet...instead you soaked up Frankie’s warmth and played with his hand in yours.

“Frankie…?” you asked softly after a while. He was leaning up against a large tree, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was asleep. Frankie made a small sound, encouraging you to go on, “have you ever...you know what? Never mind, it’s silly.”

“You know you can ask me anything, Bee. If it matters to you, it’s not silly.”

“Have you ever thought about having kids?” you swallowed the lump in your throat and you were suddenly glad your eyes were closed against the sun and he had his sunglasses on, “I-I mean specifically us having kids. I know we joked about it as kids but...what about now?”

Frankie’s breath hitched in his throat and he almost dropped your hand in surprise. He was so choked up, he almost couldn’t get the words out, “I-I...ummm…”

“It’s weird, huh?” you hoped this wasn’t him easily rejecting you, “right before I was going to marry Chad, he thought I was pregnant for a moment and he just seemed so….I dunno. He told me I shouldn’t be pregnant before we get married and then we should have a kid and get it over with. Can you believe it - just get it over? I never...I would never want to have a child with someone that was only having one to be able to say they have one. It’s horrid.”

“He really was the worst.”

“In every way,” you agreed with a tense laugh, “I’m sorry for just springing this on you...it’s just been on my mind, I guess.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he insisted as he shifted you, so you were perched in his lap and facing him. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and studied you intently, “yes, I have thought about it. Many times...there’s no one else I’d want children with besides you, Bee. I-I...I would be lucky to have you as the mother of my child...or children. I’ve often thought about a little baby bee running around.”

“Baby bee,” your eyes stung lightly with tears as you repeated the words back to him; your throat constricted with emotion at the mere thought, “I love that...what about a baby fish? I like the sound of that too. What a lucky child they would be to call you their father.”

“I would never want to have a child just because that’s what society wants,” he swiped his thumb over your cheek to brush away the single tear, “I want a child because we’re in love and that’s what we decide to do. If and when you’re ready, I-I’ll be ready too.”

“Yeah?” you asked softly as his large hand rested on your neck, and he nodded, “because I’d very much like if you knocked me up, Francisco Morales.”

You raised an eyebrow at him before the two of you broke into fits of laughter. That was one of the many beautiful things about your relationship; no matter how serious and important it was, you both were able to find a laugh and look on the bright side.

“I wouldn’t mind knocking you up,” he mused playfully, “we might have to try a lot though...I don’t know if you can handle it.”

“Oh, I think I can handle it,” you insisted, “can you?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he grinned as you laid against his chest and let him wrap his arms around you, “there’s one more thing I want to do first…well not necessarily first, but I-I want to ask.”

“What is it?” you asked as you placed gentle kisses to the bare skin of his shoulder. He shifted lightly and swallowed the lump in his throat, “Francisco?”

“I…" without saying a word, he reached into his pocket and fumbled around for a moment as you watched him with a mixture of amusement and confusion. When he appeared to be satisfied, he paused for a moment before inhaling and deeply, "there's something important I want to ask - that I've been meaning to ask you for so long now. I think now is the perfect time."

"Francisco," your hand was on his chest as he held his hand up and displayed a small, velvet pouch. You raised an eyebrow in question, instinctively reaching for it but stopping yourself at the last moment, "baby-"

"Take it," he whispered softly as you obliged him and delicately procured the black pouch from him. Curiously opening it up, your heart almost stood still as you pulled out the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. Your mouth dropped open as you looked between him and the ring a couple of times, "do you like it, Honey Bee? I-I helped design it and I hope you like it...but if you don't-"

You quickly cut him off with a kiss, pulling him as tightly against your body as you could, only pulling back when you were left breathless, "I love it - it's beautiful. I love you, so much Francisco. Are you...asking me-"

"Will you marry me, Bee?" he gently took the ring from your shaking hands as you offered him your left hand.

"Yes," you whispered as he slipped the ring onto your finger. You took his hand in yours and gave it a tight squeeze, "yes, a million times yes. Of course I'll marry you. That's all I've ever wanted."

"Me too," he grinned as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew, deep down, that the chances that you'd say were slim, but still, there was always that little bit of doubt, "you were always the one. Always."

"Yeah," you agreed with a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, "you're the one, my love. It was always you."

»»————-　♡　————-««

"You didn't have to do all of this," Frankie's eyes were with wonder and excitement as he looked around the exquisite restaurant. It was fancy, definitely more so than anything you'd normally consider, but you'd wanted to do this for Frankie. The man had been complaining about wanting a good steak for so long, you'd taken it upon yourself to find the best steak restaurant in town.

"I know," you promised him as you pulled out his chair for him and motioned for him to sit down, "but I wanted to, my love. You always take such good care of me, I figured we - you - deserve it. Plus, think of it as a way of celebrating our engagement!"

"I can't argue with that," he smiled lightly as he reached across the table and put his hand over yours. He knew that while excited about your engagement and wanting to tell the world, part of it had been hard on you. Your family still wasn't on speaking terms with you, by their choice and despite efforts from both of you. It wasn't something that plagued you constantly, but times like this made you wish things were different.

The silver lining in all of this was that through your reunion with Frankie, you'd gained his friends as yours as well - the infamous bee they always called you. You still had Allie and Anna, who were absolutely more than thrilled to know Frankie was your person. Plus with starting school again, you'd made friends with several people that you enjoyed spending time in and out of class with. At the end of the day, however, there was nothing better than getting to come to Frankie. He was your everything, as you were his.

"What are you thinking?" he asked as you took a sip of wine as the two of you waited for your meals, “you have your thinking face on.”

“You always knew me too well,” you teased lightly, “I was thinking about how much I love you. How lucky I am to be with you, and get to call you mine. That no matter how much we’ve been through, we get to be together in the end. That no matter what happens with my family or whatever, that I’ll have you, and so many others. That you are my family.”

“Always,” he promised with a small smile, “I’ll always be here for you. I’m not going anywhere, you know that. You are my family, my home, and my heart, Bee. You always have been.”

“I know that,” you beamed, lighting up his whole world, “I always have too...I love you.”

“I love you too.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I think I’ve got room for dessert, don’t you?” you teased as you stood up and reached for his hand. Frankie’s eyes grew wide as he realized exactly what you meant, “the pie we baked yesterday, and I think there’s ice cream in the freezer.”

“Baby-” he was somewhere between a laugh and a groan as trailed at your side, “you’re killing me.”

“Oops,” you teased, completely amused by his reaction.

"Well, well, well," your blood ran cold at the sound of the eerily familiar voice. Frankie kept walking, unaware that anything was wrong until he noticed you weren't following him. Turning on your hell, you slowly came face to face with Chad, "look what the cat dragged in. Didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"And that still would have been too soon," you lightly rolled your eyes, "and while I feel like I'd love to stay and argue and rehash everything, I'm going to be the better person here and just walk away."

"Because you have nothing to say," he chided as you tried to blow him off. But then you saw who he was with, "pity."

"Yes," you sighed, "what a pity indeed. Clarissa! I didn't think I'd see you again either. Are you together? I didn't think you liked Chad- all the time you spent talking shit about him, must not have been real, huh?"

Your friend, former friend anyway, looked at you with a scowl as pursed her lips but remained silent. It might have been pathetic and petty, but in the moment you couldn't help it.

"And just who are you here with? That pathetic looking man over there? The one that's watching you with concern...ahh, yes, an engagement ring," his eyes flicked to your left hand as you felt your blood boil. He could taunt and make fun of you all he wanted, but he would never say a word about Frankie, "its...precious. He must have spent his whole life savings on that. I don't get it...you had everything - I gave you everything - wealth, status, luxury and you left all of that...and for what?"

"Don't you dare," you held up your finger and jammed in front of his face, "don't you dare talk about him. He is a far better person than you will ever be. He is everything to me. I left you because I couldn't commit to a loveless marriage and society and people I don't care about. You never loved me, let's be honest. You loved my name, my family's wealth, their status. That's all that ever mattered to you. And yet I am the one who sounds pathetic?"

"What can he offer you?" Chad smirked as he leaned back in his chair.

"Bee-" Frankie could easily sense the tension flowing between the two of you and had come over and reached for your hand, "come on, let's go home."

"Bee," Chad almost howled with laughter as you glared at him, "how perfectly adorable. What a cute couple - the failed socialite and the...what? Some sort of kitchen boy?"

"That is enough," you almost shouted at him as seemingly half the restaurant turned to look at you, "stop this. What is the point?"

"Does there have to be a point?" there was nothing but a smug grin on his face, "you could have had it all and now you've got...him. You could have so many other choices and now what? You're going to be-"

But before he could say anything else, you swung your arm back and landed a punch, right in the middle of face. The action shocked you so much, and Frankie and Clarissa - and the rest of the establishment that you were all awestruck for a moment. The crack of his nose had surprised you most and you’d immediately recoiled and clutched your aching hand. Frankie’s hand found your shoulders as he pulled you against his chest.

"Stupid bitch!" Chad jumped to his feet and clutched his bleeding nose, “who do you think you are?”

“Come on,” Frankie’s voice was low and gentle in your ear as he pulled you back from the scene, “we have to go.”

Nodding lightly, you let him usher you away, but not before you turned around to speak your last bit of peace, “I hope I never see you again. But I do hope you find someone you love, truly love, and someone that loves you. Because there is nothing better, and even though you are horrid, you deserve it too. There is one thing I learned from you - how to be truly loved by someone and let them love you back, and for that I thank you.”

You turned around before he, or anyone else, could say anything, grabbing Frankie’s hand with your own and pulling him out of the restaurant amid quiet murmurs.

Only stopping once you were outside, you let go of his hand and sighed heavily. Frankie looked at you with something akin to a mix of awe and love as he took your injured hand and studied it. You winced slightly as pain had already settled in the joints, “that was...impressive. Where did you learn to throw a punch like that, Bee?”

“You,” you admitted with a laugh, “back when we were kids! You said it was important to always know how to throw a good punch and you taught me. I guess I must have remembered it after all these years.”

“I guess I taught you well,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle to the already prominent bruising, “so that was him, huh?”

“Unfortunately,” you agreed with a bitter huff, “could you have imagined if I’d married him? How absolutely terrible that would have been. I made the right choice, I know, and I’ve known that for a long time now. It was always you.”

He leaned over and kissed you softly, tasting faintly of the sweet wine you’d had with dinner, “let’s go home, sweet Bee. We have to tend to your hand and not let it get worse.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Frankie?” you were laid on top of him on the small bed in your dorm, fighting off sleep as he continued to read. You’d insisted on stopping for a nap, and he’d insisted he needed to finish his book that day - he was deeply invested. He made a small sound, urging you to continue you on as he played with a lock of your hair, “I have a request - it’s silly…”

“Tell me,” he insisted softly as he set his book down, “come on, Bee, tell me.”

“When we’re old and married,” you wrapped your arms around his middle as you rested your head on his chest, “I want a dog, and a house with a big yard where we can grow lots of flowers. And two kids - at least. I-I know it’s silly, to think about the future so far ahead, but I like to dream.”

“I don’t think that’s silly at all,” he promised softly, a flush of warmth rising in his chest and face, “I-I like the sound of that, Bee. Does that include a white picket fence? I was thinking more about like..shrubs...or lots of flowers, like an open concept.”

“It includes whatever you want,” you turned and grinned at him, pressing a kiss to his lips, “as long as you’re there, it doesn’t matter. None of it does, as long as you’re there. I love you so much, Francisco.”

“Of course I will be,” he promised softly, “I’m not going anywhere. I love you too, Bee.”

“Read to me?” you asked as you handed his book back to him, “I can’t think of a better thing than falling asleep to the sound of your voice.”

“Anything for you, Bee…my Bee.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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writing-in-april · 4 years ago

Text

Paint me

Laurent LeClaire x Female Reader

Summary: Reader finally has enough money to splurge on getting herself painted for the first time in her life. When she meets her painter, Laurent, she wonders whether she got more than what she bargained for.

A/N: Hello everyone- sorry this ones out a bit late tonight- I had practice and had to finish up a few things on this one after. This is my tenth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April- can’t believe we’re 1/3 through 🙈If y’all have ever seen In Secret you know what scene inspired this fic asdjksdj lol 😂 also @propertyofabelmorales fic from Valentine’s Day also inspired me 🥰 I low key probably spent more time on this than necessary considering he isn’t a very popular character but I couldn’t help myself 😅 In secret was actually the first movie (that wasn’t Star Wars) that I saw Oscar Isaac in so Laurent low key has my heart- even with his murderous tendencies 😂 I always love hearing from my followers so feel free to drop an ask or request here. Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Reader is fearful of Laurent, Reader thinks Laurent might kill her, Dubcon, Oral sex (F receiving), Unprotected sex, Creampie- if any other warnings need to be added let me know

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.2K

Being painted was an important status symbol in this life. To have your image captured for all to see, put down on canvas by paint from a brush was a way of showing off beauty to the people around you, and the people that came after.

You were elated to have your image captured on canvas for the first time, finally able to afford it on your own. A rare sight in the world that you lived in to see a woman able to pay the fee of having her portrait painted.

Such a rare sight it was that when you had chosen a painter and contacted him he had almost seemed confused. When he had asked if you had a husband you had snorted turning up your nose to then tell him no. It was not that you did not want any sort of romantic touch, but being tied down to someone for years that would probably not cherish you the way you deserved sickened you. So, with no one around to pressure you into an arranged marriage you remained unmarried.

The painter you had hired, Laurent, was sweet as honey, almost to a sickly degree. The charm had remained even after he had realized that you were alone, basically a spinster. Whether or not he kept up the act because he thought it would be easier to get underneath your skirts or because he truly did not mind an independent woman did not matter to you. You would only let your gaze linger over while he painted you, that was all. He was here to paint you, nothing more.

He had positioned you in a chair to sit in a simple position. His reasoning for that he told you was that the simpler the position, the easier it was for your beauty to shine. Painters had a way with words though, so you tried not to let your heart swell from the compliment.

You let yourself stare in each session as he began to lay out the foundation of your likeness. Each time you sat in the chair time ticked by slowly, inch by inch. It was not as if you minded as it let you look upon how his inky curls shone in the dim lighting, plus every other part your eyes were allowed access to. It was only fair in your book, considering his job was to stare at you.

This session you were in now seemed different to the others; he seemed more distant. While you both stared at the other not a single word was exchanged, only the brush on canvas got to speak today with each stroke.

It was harder to concentrate this time on staying as still as possible. You ached to move your legs over, just a bit to the side. Daring to test the waters, hoping he would not notice, your legs twitched a little over to the right.

For a while he continued to say nothing, painting with ease like he had completely missed the twitch in your legs. That was until he decided to speak for the first time in hours,

“No-“ His face twisted, morphing into a look tinged with darkness. It was this first sign of displeasure you had heard from your hours of sitting as if you had a rod in your spine. Dipping his brush back into his paints again to find his desired color was a much more rushed action than before. It was an annoyed and quick movement, trying to swiftly correct the mistake you had assumed he had made. When he returned his brush where it belonged on his canvas it scraped along it as he pushed the paint along, molding it into his image.

Another moment goes by silently and with no more words of displeasure; you begin to relax into your position again. It was already hard to relax fully while his eyes flitted from your body to his canvas; your nerves only raised higher after his outward sign of displeasure. He scrutinized every angle and curve as his eye took in every inch of you to create an accurate portrait of you. You wondered if in his fee there was an understanding that he would paint you in the highest light possible. Though, truth be told it was foolish to question that. What type of painter would he be if he displeased his clients by being honest in his paintings?

It was in his job description to lie. Painters depicted the beauty they saw and made it shine, even if that meant trying to find beauty in the darkest of corners to forcefully shed a light on them. All it took was a painter of proper skill, a canvas, and of course a set of paints. Any unwilling features that tried to fight their painters lies would be forcefully bent to their will, almost like a king, and all with a simple stroke to canvas. No, you weren’t ugly, but you accepted that it was his job to bend the truth to his will.

The darkness you had briefly observed reappeared on his face once more. He tried to be quiet in his frustration, but his whisper could not contain the anger brewing beneath. Truthfully his words were a far cry from a whisper, it was more of a shout, “It is not right!”

Naturally you wanted to question what had made the painter suddenly rise with anger, though you wisely kept your mouth shut tight. You did not know this man, nor did you know what he could be capable of underneath the sweet words. The darkness that brewed glinted in his eyes as he took his brush to canvas again, this time with more venom in his strokes.

You were not going to trust the honeyed words he had spoken to you, at least not now while you saw how the honey could possibly be sour. Even though honey never turned acrid in common knowledge, the sight before you disproved that. Each new brush against his canvas turned violent, almost as if he’d push through the canvas with how much force he was using and create a hole.

You could have left the room in a hurry, or even demanded him leave. After all, it was you that employed him. Watching honey that soured so quick intrigued you, so the rod stayed in your spine, though you knew it was naive of you. You couldn’t trust his words, but you could still listen to them.

Brush after brush splattered paint onto the canvas in front of him that you could not view. His once dexterous movements had devolved into a man you did not know, not that you truly knew him beforehand either. You couldn’t imagine he was painting anything close to your likeness; you highly doubted long irritated strokes would be good for each of your contours and curves.

Clattering noises filled the air of the room you were both trapped in, one trapped by his job and one trapped by curiosity. You hoped the curiosity didn’t kill you like the cat. He had kicked the easel that held the painting he was being paid for, which had caused the clattering. Gripping the paintbrush in his hand with fury he then separated it from the canvas and began to pace.

As he paced your mind wandered further; it was all it could do while it was stuck observing the man before you spiral. You wondered if he had forgotten your presence, even if he had been painting you- and you had even been doubting that.

Clearly he hadn’t forgotten about you as he suddenly stopped his pacing, slowly turning to face you again. His gaze no longer flitted between two things calling his attention, now fully focused on you, still with that rod in your spine.

“It is you.” He spoke with a deadly bite and you could not help but have your bottom lip wobble at his accusation. Racking your brain you tried to find why you were the one that was the source of his wrath and why you were the one that was about to receive it. “You are not in the right position.”

You wanted to protest, saying that you had not moved a muscle since he had placed you in this exact position with your spine rigid in a chair. The protest became stuck in your throat, no doubt because of the fear you now held for the darkness that brewed underneath. You remained stoically silent, rigid as ever, waiting for him to mold you into the position that he wanted you in.

He twirled his paintbrush in his hand absentmindedly while he thought. You did not know what he was pondering, though you had to guess it had something to do with fixing how you were positioned. He answered your own curious thoughts by confirming them, “You need to relax.”

Relaxing, that was hard enough earlier when you had not had fear put in you. Still, you tried to let go of the tension held tightly in your shoulders forcefully just as he did whenever he forced your features to look their best in his painting.

He then sighed, obviously displeased with your effort. Instead of letting you try again he simply gave you an order to ‘stay still’ while he began to approach you with his paintbrush in hand.

As the paintbrush approached you instead of the canvas you could not help but tremble as it came closer. It was not any sort of weapon that could do you any harm; it would take a lot to hurt someone with a paintbrush. Still, you quivered as it approached, perhaps more because of the gaze that was transfixed on you.

Laurent’s gaze was wild, a hint of madness was evident in his eyes. They were two dark pools of almost black fixed upon you as if they were set on devouring you in the oblivion in their depths. Eyes were said to be the window to the soul and Laurent did little to make you doubt that claim. He did not give you soothing words as he saw you tremble beneath his daunting gaze and the slowly approaching bristles of the paintbrush, still partially coated in the color he had last been using. Instead of giving you the soothing words you may have desired the paintbrush crept closer, like it was stalking you in the night just as the obsidian pools he called eyes.

Your quivers were not solely because of the glint of madness you could see, hiding in the depths of his eyes. It would be a lie to say that all your quivers and shivers were rooted in the fear as to what he might do to you if you dared move from the position he had placed you in hours beforehand. Something else akin to desire had found itself at home run in through your veins, unburdened by the worries of what the black pools might be hiding in their abyss.

That feeling, the one that was running through your veins in spite of the lingering fear, was soon guiding your body. You were no longer staying rigid in your position out of fear; you wanted him to touch you, even if only with the tips of his brush.

He knelt down when close enough to then reach to lift up your skirts. You were scarcely breathing now, still afraid yet intrigued as to what a man could do with a simple paint brush. Opening your legs up at the approach of his paintbrush would have been indecent to some, but you could not help yourself. Biting your lip hard enough to possibly draw blood was so you did not move into his touch, letting him come to you as you did not want to incite his wrath. You wanted him to touch you with it, despite that fear of those black pools staring fiercely at you.

The soft bristles finally grazed the inner flesh of your thigh, a small tickle running through the nerves connected to the spot it touched. You could’ve been fooled into thinking that it had been the brush of his hand if your own eyes hadn’t been fixated upon him.

You moved your position just a hair, maybe even smaller than the ones on the paintbrush used to move you.

“There.” His whisper breathless, now devoid of the darkness that had stifled any sweetness.

You ached to hear him say it again, it was not a praise for you in the strictest sense. He had been simply readjusting you, hardly any room or need for any praise. The way he had whispered it along with the whisper of the brush upon your skin made it feel like he was praising you. Before you knew what was happening or considered the consequences you chased the brush he had begun to pull back with your thighs.

The darkness quickly came back on his face when he had noticed you had moved to chase his touch. He began to bark out a command to put you back in your place, even though he was the painter, and you, the client. “Sit ba-“

“Brush me again.” Your plea was too beautiful for him to let it go unanswered, even though you had cut him off. There no doubt was still lingering fear inside you, afraid of what he might do in retaliation.

He surprisingly obliged you, you could see his curiosity meld with the darkness in him. He lifted your skirts again, holding the brush just above the spot where he had touched moments before.

When he brushed the inner flesh of your thigh again, the pressure was harder, less unsure.

That simple touch made you moan, even though he wasn’t touching any spot that normally might bring you pleasure. It was as if a dark shadow had cascaded across his face to blur your perception of who he probably was underneath it all. If it wasn’t for your curiosity and your simple desire you would have thought more critically about his next request.

“Take off your dress.” Like someone without a thought you stripped it off of you in haste, as did he with his own clothes.

In no time at all it seemed, his mouth had enveloped your own, keen on devouring all you had to offer. He picked you up with ease by the tops of your now naked thighs so he could lower you to the floor. He then allowed himself to nip and suck on any section of skin he desired to put his mouth on. Not that you could reciprocate as he had your hands held above your head.

When his fingers started to dance along the tops of your thighs just as the brush had done you instinctively pushed your thighs together. The action was quickly reversed by Laurent releasing your hands to push your thighs apart, giving him an unobstructed view of your entrance.

His mouth was soon swiftly on the places that brought you pleasure, sucking your pearl into his mouth like a sweet.

You wanted to writhe underneath him out of sheer pleasure, but he did not need to bind you to make you immobile. That fear still lingering in your mind kept your body still, even as he combined his mouth with his fingers by pushing them into your entrance.

“There?” He whispered as he crooked them upwards, trying to find the spot that would make you see stars. It wasn’t quite right though, so you shook your head side to side. You didn’t dare to speak, not that you could do anything more but making unintelligible moans of pleasure.

“There.” He whispered with finality when he hit that somewhat spongy spot inside you making you cry out louder than before. It was so nice to hear him say those words again, honeyed words that tasted so sweet even though they were tainted by darkness. Your release shot through you quickly, like an arrow sent to kill you.

He removed his fingers from you when you were finished with your first release of the night, wasting no time to push himself inside you. He was larger than any other man you had been with, stretching you blissfully and almost painfully. You were lucky he was not too cruel to not let you adjust to his size, but as soon as you had he unleashed himself upon you. All you could do was wrap your legs around his waist and let him thrust into you at a brutal pace. The sounds of skin slapping on skin were so loud they almost over took the moans you were emitting along with his grunts.

When his hand came to wrap around your neck your own mortality became evident to you. Early before you had succumbed to his touch with a simple brush, you had been afraid he might harm you, even with the desire pumping through your blood. You had not even thought of beyond a simple bruise or cut to your flesh by him. His hand around your throat while he thrusted into you made you wonder how much it would take for him to squeeze until your lips turned blue.

Desire one again took over your fear, his hand around your neck combined with the sweet nothings whispered in your ear made you fall apart again. It was a slow devastating release like honey dripping off a spoon languidly until it dropped down to sweeten the pot. Even though his own honey had turned sour, he still was fully capable of making people feel sweetness while shrouded in darkness.

He filled you soon after you had finished your own release with a grunt. Neither of you had any real care to be able to give to the possible consequences of him filling you. He rolled off of you and you were glad in the moment he didn’t crush you under his weight like most men would have done.

Silence seemed to be a staple item that constantly wormed its way in between the two of you. No one spoke for a while, truthfully it might have been an hour. Laurent was the first to break it again, with much less malice than before,

“Do you want me to continue to paint you?” He whispered into your skin as he continued to pepper his plush lips across your skin. Glancing up towards the easel that still faced the canvas away from you and then over to the bare man next to you helped aid you in your decision. You could let him leave with wasted paints, wasted canvas, and wasted potential.

The wasted potential was what stopped you from letting him paint the rest of the angles of your body. Pondering what could come of the painting, and your relationship with the man who had just made you see stars while simultaneously making you fear or your life at the same time made you frown. The possibilities were endless, but those two black pools hid something too interesting for you to ignore. You wanted to know more, even ached for it.

“Yes.” You simply replied and you then willingly fell into the abyss.

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith — grr tumblr is still being stupid

People who might be interested 🤷‍♀️: @propertyofabelmorales @sergeantkane @foxilayde

#laurent leclaire x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x reader #in secret #30 fics in 30 days #oscar isaac fanfic

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notnctu · 5 years ago

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when the snow falls | j.jh

jung jaehyun x reader genre - angst first, fluff later details - childhood best friends!au, ghost!au, platonic relationship, genderneutral!reader, ft. boyfriend johnny warnings - grieving/mourning, mentions of death, lots of crying, explicit language (swearing) word count - 8.3k inspiration - A Christmas Carol synopsis - Jaehyun visits you every holiday season since his death to bring you out of your self isolation and hatred for the one season you both once loved.

a/n - this is for my first collab ever: a taste of winter collab hosted by @dearyongs & @pastelsicheng ! again, thank you for letting me participate and i hope this fic brings more warmth for everyone during the winter!! happy holidays everyone & i hope you can check out the rest of the fics in the collab as i will be, they’re written by such amazing writers! :)))

An iridescent frost covers the tall windows of the apartment and a bright white sky greets you this morning. The fallen sheets expose your bare shoulders to the bitter crisp cold air and goosebumps rise to remind you to wear a fucking sweater for once. However, the cold isn’t what bothers you this horrid day as you’re leaping out of bed to glance out at the world. It’s the first thing that you lay eyes on: it covers the streets, it’s falling from the blanket of grey sky, it’s others’ joy when it’s your trauma. What Mother Nature has brought upon this winter season, as she always does this time of the year, is snow.

The first sign of snowfall marks the first day of your self isolation period until the holidays pass. It marks the anniversary of your best friend’s death and an agonizingly long winter, but in spite of that, it also means the appearance of a rather special guest. A guest that is only visible to you and though resembles much of your passed friend, does not share the same memories as you do.

“The snow is just so comforting, isn’t it?” Though you live alone, a sudden voice erupts from behind you and has you turning rather quickly to face the truth of this season. Your greatest treasure, yet haunting demise. “Hello, y/n. How has your year been?” Jaehyun stands with a lean at your door frame, his arms crossed at his chest and hair full of fluff.

“Hello, Jaehyun’s spirit. I happen to hate the snow, if you have forgotten.” Your hip presses against the cold glass and you’re no longer afraid of being half naked in front of what this form of imagination possesses itself to be.

“Remind me why again.” Jaehyun casually sits on your unmade bed, looking as about your age now. There is a brief silence as you examine how he’s grown with you, you’d imagine this is how he’d look if he was still alive and well.

It would be his third year in college, same as you, possibly studying engineering due to his past fascination with the mechanics of roller coasters. With such a strong jawline and a definite lean built, girls would be running all over him. Not to mention, his dimples remain one of his charms.

Kicking off the icy window, you walk carefully and slowly up to Jaehyun. A hand reaches to caress his cheek, but it goes right through him and leaves your hand to hang in mid-air. This happens every time you see him again, wondering if you can get one last touch of his dewy complexion, and you simply can’t. Despite his ability to touch you, there is no possibility for your senses to travel through to the other side of the supernatural dimension.

Jaehyun gently rests your hand back to your side and repeats his request, “remind me again why you hate the snow.”

“It’s how you died.” A small croak gets caught in the back of your throat and tears well up to blur your vision. “So when the snow falls, it brings me back to the dreadful memory of me losing you, of you leaving me.”

“I died from snow? That is so lame.” Jaehyun grumbles and rolls his eyes.

You chuckle, but the tears roll down your cheeks as if they know no happiness. “You died from a car accident in the snow. Your tires slid, you couldn’t brake … and so, you crashed. Full trauma to the head, an instant death.”

“Where was I going?” He wasn’t this curious last winter, and so you’re unaware if it’s your mind playing sick tricks on you or if his unrest spirit is this forgetful. You wish it was the latter.

Choking on your tears, the droplets hit the hardwood floors below you. An overwhelming feeling of melancholy overtakes your chest and you’re suffocating underneath an unknown pressure. Your throat is drier than your mother’s gingerbread cookies, but you swallow the frigid air around you.

You’re so choked up by your sobbing that it’s too difficult to speak. Any words you say feel like thin ice, ready to crack at the lightest touch. “O-On the way to … my house. You were coming over to tell me a secret.”

“And I never got to tell you.”

“No, Jaehyun. I’ll never know what you wanted to tell me that day.”

when the snow falls.

There has never been a time before Jaehyun and all that you knew, all the memories that fill your brain, every growing pain you could possibly share, was with him and all until it wasn’t. Had there been a time after Jaehyun, you would not have expected it to come as soon as it did.

For the months following his death, you were in denial of his missing presence because every. single. thing. reminded you of him. Jaehyun remained in his assigned seat in school, although it was clearly empty. He lived through others’ mourning stories, where they spoke of fond memories that they shared and things he liked. The worst of them all, you still texted him every day in hopes to see the tiny three dots pop up that he was typing. And the warped reality in your head, the first stage of grief flooding every possible corner, was that he has always just been slow at replying back.

Then, his funeral rolled around and his parents asked you to share one happy memory of him. There were so many, how could you possibly have chosen just one? And so you didn’t. The moment the frame of the church entered your view, your legs stuck to the ground and refused to enter. There was going to be a point when you entered the building filled with crying people and a gripping, horrid smell of death and you wouldn’t be able to forget it. That scary thought, not only frightened you, but angered you.

The large attendance of people walked past you as teary eyes blinked up at the dark wooden frame of the door, but every one of them had never visited him for more than once when he was alive. His older cousins that had forgotten about him when they flew away for college, his acquaintances from piano lessons who never bothered to remember his full name, his old friends from primary school that he had lost connection with after graduation, they were all here.

And you can’t help, but fester a fueling frustration in the pit of your stomach and as it grew into your chest in the matter of seconds, you wondered the single thought that picked up your feet to run home: where were they when he was alive?

After a year and the appearance of Jaehyun’s ghost became less of a shock during winter, you were stuck in an odd and uneasy place of what if’s. Talking to him once a year was never enough, texting his old number was never enough. It was just never enough.

Missing him grew into a dark sense of yearning, longing, bargaining. Long nights of twisting and tossing in your bed, many thoughts and endless possibilities ran through your unhealthy thoughts. The description and police report of his accident played like a reel in darkest contemplations.

The first year of college had to be the hardest to go through without him and thus, aiding in your regrets of not cherishing him enough when he was around. A rabbit hole of universe paths drove you wild, wishing and hoping that you could turn back time and stop him from coming over in the middle of a blizzard. And the one lasting thought still haunts you to your present: if only you hadn’t encouraged him that night, he wouldn’t have died.

The saddest part has barely been acknowledged, even by yourself. That this one tragedy tainted the one holiday you two loved the most --- Christmas. Every year since his passing, you locked yourself in your room for two weeks before the holiday and waited through it all. Truthfully, there was nothing in the universe that was going to allow you to enjoy the holiday when it wasn’t with him. Even his ghost, who very randomly popped up on a December day and cluelessly never brings much comfort as the live him did during this season.

Jolly holiday music lost their joyous sound and became awfully low tempo. The bright red and green signature colors of Christmas became dull and rather grey; the long strings of colorful lights that hang from houses and around large trees were absolutely drained of their color. The warmth of the fireplace went cold. The cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies no longer entertained and lost their spark.

The Christmas themed decorations that covered the windows of shops, the city, your own house, became an overwhelming sore sight to look at. The love from your loved ones… you couldn’t feel anything remotely close to love anymore, just meaningless affection. The one gift that the Earth blessed your region with, snow, became the one petrifying thing that it had to offer. And your favoritism for the holiday, the so-called ‘Christmas Spirit’, slowly died out, along with Jaehyun.

Now that it’s been three years since his passing, you’re here spending your third lonely holiday season inside your apartment discussing your yearly recap with your ghostly best friend.

“That ridiculous final exam lowered my grade and I walked out of that class retaining none of the information. When will I ever need to know about pirates in the 1800’s?” The chocolate wrapper crinkles in your fist as you finish your overly passionate recollection of the most useless class you could have taken this whole year.

Jaehyun sits by your side, facing you as he hugs his knees close to his chest. A small grin dots the dimple on his left cheek when you peer over at the huddled boy and the sad reminiscent glisten in your eye does not go unnoticed. “You used to love pirates. Dressed up like one for Halloween and went up to every house yelling,” Jaehyun clears his throat and perks up, ready to perform.

A balled fist in the air, paired with a look of utter gusto and passion, Jaehyun speaks in an attempt to horribly reenact your once embarrassing pirate impression. “Argh! You scoundrel, give me all the treasures in your possession… preferably chocolate sweets.” He holds his stomach as he bursts into a fit of his baritone laughter. His wide mouth grows into such a big, open smile that his eyelashes dance on his glowing cheeks.

“For a ghost, you sure look like someone who’s very much alive.” Naturally, you’d swat lightly at his knee or arm whenever he would joke around. However, the pain of your hand passing right through him breaks this habit and you’re left scoffing at the way Jaehyun is consumed with laughter.

“You know, for someone who is alive… you sure look a bit … lifeless. When was the last time you were happy, y/n?” Jaehyun finally settles down and gently nudges at your elbow.

His question hits you like a wall of bricks. Unexpected and completely straightforward, but that’s just always been the way he is. “This past weekend when I turned in my last assignment for the semester.”

“No. The last time you were genuinely happy, not relieved. You mentioned a boyfriend, right?”

Rolling your eyes, you grow a bit silent and annoyed at his comment. “Listen, hopeless romantic. Not every relationship is perfect sunrays and gushy unconditional love.” Perhaps, your gaze drops down to your hands and the wrinkled wrapper between your fingers has worn out from your fidgeting.

Johnny Suh. If you could move mountains for this man, you would. It all started due to an accidental happenstance of you abruptly walking into your campus’ coffee shop to seek shelter from the rain and him, the attractive barista behind the counter, chasing after you in a stained apron and an immensely strong aroma of coffee beans. Jaehyun practically swooned over hearing how you two met, hearts in his pupils and a dreamy grin resting fondly as he attentively listened.

Jaehyun has always wanted a relationship, though he did have many admirers in high school, he never had the opportunity to experience one true love and to play out every sappy romantic thing rom-coms taught him. Hearing about your love life is the closest thing he can get to it, unfortunate for him, but fortunate that his best friend still has some romance in them.

Nevertheless, it’s only been a few months together. Though Johnny has seen intimate parts of you, he’s never experienced a winter with you and frankly, he won’t ever experience one with you if you keep this up.

“Johnny doesn’t make you happy, then why are you with him?” Jaehyun knows Johnny makes you feel something that is hard for you to put into words. He also knows the type of person you are, pushing your buttons to get you to defend something you love. Boldly. Loudly. Strongly. He knows how to get you to spit out words of truth, even when they’re difficult.

“My partner is the literal definition of happiness, okay?” The defensiveness drives your assertiveness further. “The last time I was happy was when…” your eyes are frantically examining the floor for any source of focus as a highlight reel of this whole year flashes through your mind.

“... On my birthday, he planned me a picnic. Bought me roses, the whole grand scheme of romance. I started to cry, out of happiness… it was the first time in a while that the reason behind my tears was something good.” There’s somewhat of an epiphany when you finish your sentence. Your voice gets lost in your train of thought as the blissful scene plays out.

“Why were you crying?” Jaehyun snatches the distracting wrapper from your fingers, it being unrecognizable from the wear and tear. It causes you to meet Jaehyun’s round eyes: empty, but not sad. They’re lost, yet filled with purpose.

Jaehyun has always been able to open up the darkest parts of your heart. “Because it reminded me of the time when you and I walked up that steep hill over on Fifth Street… and we forgot the picnic blanket. But it didn’t matter because after the strenuous journey, all we wanted was to sit down and enjoy some fucking sandwiches, along with some hot chocolate your mom packed us.”

“y/n, you cried over the memory of sandwiches and exercise? That’s so---”

“Before you insult me by calling me lame,” you bring your finger to stop him mid-way and narrow your eyes, “I was so happy to be able to share our same experience with someone else. Even though you’re gone, I can still have these happy moments with other people.”

Then, Jaehyun gathers both of your hands to hold and brings them to his soft lips. Everything about him feels cold, like a harsh chill that bites at your skin. In spite of it all, his delicate kiss on your knuckles somehow feel warm and slightly comforting. Jaehyun peers up with kind eyes, “you’re almost there. I will do everything I can to get you there.”

Blinking at him with confusion, your expression asks the questions for you. When he sets your hands in his lap, a soft pat on the back of your hand reassures you. “Can we bake Christmas cookies?”

Rolling your eyes, you tear your hands away from him. He leaves you with unspoken words and an oddly comforting feeling, but it’s not enough to dissipate your deeply rooted dislike for this particular holiday. “You ask this every year.” Getting up, you walk towards your bedroom to get away from feeling too vulnerable.

Jaehyun watches your back intently as you’re stumbling over your feet. He whispers to himself, “and I think this year is going to be the last year I’ll ask for it.” And a hopeful smile appears joyously as he anticipates the storm before reaching still waters.

The sound of the doorbell awakens you and Jaehyun is nowhere to be seen. He comes and goes as he wishes, however, he’d usually accompany you during the mornings. You’re particularly sluggish, finding it difficult to adjust to the blinding white sky outside as snow continues to drift upon the city.

“Good morning, gumdrop.” Your boyfriend is rather chirpy today. Johnny engulfs your fragile body in his long arms and you’re lost in his scent of peppermint bark.

“This was unexpected.” His shirt muffles your tiny voice and Johnny is setting down bags of groceries on your kitchen countertop.

“I texted you last night that I was coming over to do some grocery shopping for you. Did you sleep early?” Your very helpful boyfriend starts unloading all the parcels of fresh produce and your favorite snacks. However, there is a slight tinge of annoyance and possibly it’s due to the fact you weren’t expecting to see anyone during your isolation. Johnny couldn’t have known though.

A deep sigh escapes your lips and you walk over to stop his movements. A hand holds his arm and the other intertwines with his own, but you stand under him with the sweetest smile you could wear during the holiday season. “How is it that your mom invited me to your family holiday party, but tells me that you’re not going to be there?”

Your smile automatically falls from your lips and a hand retracts from his warmth. It’s the sudden truth that you must face, the confession of your sadness that you’ll eventually need to tell your partner. Wondering how he’s going to take the news, your mom probably gave him a brief breakdown about how you’ve been this way for the past few years now.

Nonetheless, Johnny has always been bold with his statements and though you’ve adjusted to his abruptness, this one is hard to give a quick answer back to. So as you’re racking how to present your dark narrative, Johnny sets you down on the couch with the utmost gentleness. You don’t even feel the cushion underneath you when the million different answers streamline their way into your brain.

Johnny notices your frantic eyes and unfocused gaze, growing a bit concerned at how cold your skin feels at his touch. Taking off his sweatshirt, he carefully slips it over your shaking figure. When the softness of the polyester cotton blend brushes upon your bare arms, you’re snapped back facing a worried expression.

And you say the one thing on your mind, the only thing you can think of in your scattered brain. “Jaehyun died during this time of year, so it just makes me very emotionally unstable to… participate in any festive events. I’d rather be alone, the whole holiday season.”

Johnny nods, but his face remains with his eyebrows together and lips pressed into a tight line. He’s well aware of who Jaehyun was and means to you. Though you don’t talk much about him, your eyes light up with a bright twinkle whenever you do. It’s like the world spins ‘round and everything feels restored. Johnny knows enough about your good friend to deduct how hard it must be for you during the winters.

“Can I help you in any way?” Johnny peers over at you with a small smile, and you wish there is something in your decaying heart to keep it up forever.

“I hate to say it, but please just leave me alone for the winter.” Flopping on his lap, you’re burying your face in your hands to cower away from seeing your sunshine hurt. There are no more sugar coated kind words for you to pick and choose from.

While Johnny can understand how difficult it must be for you, he still holds onto a sliver of hope that you’ll come around. “Come on, don’t be such a Grinch. No one should be alone for Christmas.”

Groaning, you sit up and roll your eyes at the familiar references. “Listen, Cindy Lou Who. Don’t call me that.”

“It’s still a cute nickname, you don’t think?” Johnny snickers lightly, but your expression turns rather grim and serious. A faint overcast of melancholy washes over your expression as you’re staring off into your memories again.

In a faint voice, your voice is barely above a whisper, “that used to be one of Jaehyun’s favorite movies.” Your arms drop from your puffed up chest, but Johnny catches your hand and kisses your fingertips.

“What was yours?” Johnny keeps the atmosphere as light and playful while he still can.

“The Nightmare Before Christmas.” Ironically fitting and that’s one of the sole reasons you don’t watch holiday movies anymore. There have been too many parallels with your life and the wrenched holiday. As twisted as the joke may seem, you’ve lived your own nightmare before Christmas, except you never got the happy ending to it all. It’s like a nightmare that continues and you can’t escape it.

Having said, Johnny pulls you up to stand and draws you into the biggest hug. “I can’t leave you alone, even if I tried my very best. I still get butterflies every time you smile at me, so you think I wouldn’t be addicted to that feeling?”

“Johnny…” This man is in love with you until the ends of this Earth, until the horizon stretches so far that it’s unimaginable to see where it stops.

“I’ll respect your wishes as much as I can, but know that it’s not the best form of healing.” The final word causes a chill to run down your spine. It implies that you’re still hurting, although he’s not wrong, it’s rather disheartening to hear someone else speak it aloud. “I’ll come around less.”

“If I’m grumpy, then you’ll know why. And don’t try to shove the whole Christmas spirit act on me, I don’t want to hear a single thing about it! I can’t spend a Christmas without Jaehyun.” Johnny squeezes your shoulders at your bold declaration.

“You can’t or you won’t?” A painful tick at your heart leaves you speechless at his question.

For as long as you could remember, every Christmas was spent with Jaehyun. Picking out a tree for both of your families and getting lost together between the evergreens brought laughter and excitement. Baking cookies and drawing the ugliest faces in tacky colorful frosting always happened a few days before the holiday. Drinking hot chocolate by his family’s fireplace and watching Christmas movies were one of your favorite activities. Christmas Eve was always so special, where you and Jaehyun made it tradition to open your gifts from each other right when the clock struck midnight.

Then everything simply stopped. And when you tried to participate in those same activities, selfishness and guilt preoccupied your heart. What do any of those things mean without Jaehyun? Jaehyun was the reason you loved Christmas as much as you did. Then, his death became the reason you hated it as much as you do.

“I think that’s enough for today.” Johnny knows he’s hit a nerve, he can see it in your glossy eyes and subtle drop in the corners of your mouth. There is no protest from the taller man when he accepts his sweatshirt without a complaint. The bitter cold air bites at your bare shoulders again and you’re practically existing in its lack of warmth. Gathering the rest of his belongings, you two bid a kiss goodbye and shut the door.

It’s almost a relief that he’s gone and the tear runs down your cheek when your back hits the door. Suddenly, Jaehyun appears across the living room leaning on the door frame to your bedroom. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is.” There is a hang at the end of your sentence and Jaehyun walks toward you. A few sniffs fill the empty apartment, but you’re rubbing away any sign of sadness from your face.

“But?”

“But, he’s so optimistic about… everything. He lives by the sun and every waking day, he just lives it to the fullest. There’s nothing in the world for this man to possibly understand how sad I feel.” It’s the heaviness in your voice that has your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach.

Jaehyun’s freezing hands graze your chin and as he lets go, his stare doesn’t leave yours. “Learn from him.” Your best friend’s ghastly voice reminds you that he’s not real. He’s a ghost. He’s very much gone and not for a split second, should you be wanting to cave into his embrace or else, you’ll hit the floor hard. Nevertheless, you’re entirely vulnerable and the next few words that leave Jaehyun’s mouth causes your throat to close up.

“Keep him close. y/n, he is the sun.” It’s a moment you thought you’d never witness, your best friend complimenting your significant partner. Moreover, it hurts to think about how great of friends Jaehyun and Johnny could have been. “To be very honest, you need some heat this winter.”

“Then, what were you?” It’s the curiosity that nips at your tongue as it leaves no space for a pause. The thumping of your heart being so loud in the dead silence, but you know Jaehyun doesn’t have a heart to beat recklessly as yours.

Jaehyun smirks and chuckles fondly, despite how desperate and serious you may have sounded. “I was a pain in the ass.”

Scoffing, you break the immensely intense eye contact. “You still are. This whole haunting thing is very creepy.” Gesturing his entire being in front of you, he just looks so alive and breathing. Before Jaehyun, you always thought ghosts were floating entities with a white transparency. But your best friend stands before you, well aged and all together.

It still tosses you into shambles as to why Jaehyun exists, but you’ve given up on figuring out his purpose. He could be a form of your own imagination for all you care, perhaps you’ve grown so sad that you started to seek things.

Companionship from the one person you wish was still alive?

Like before, you’ve always spent Christmas with Jaehyun… alive or in ghost form.

It’s another one of those long days that seem to never end. The bright white sky seems unchanging, stark with a dusty and imminent endless overcast of snow. It’s blinding and you’re regretting the moment you overlooked the curtain blinds at the department store.

Your phone has already been lost somewhere underneath your bed and there isn’t a single desire to reach for it. Missed calls pile up, voicemails clutter your inbox, texts flood your messages, and your social media notifications fill your screen. Despite everyone’s effort to contact you, there is no sense of joyous cordial nature to even glance at them.

Jaehyun has been appearing more frequently and staying for longer periods of time. The conversations bring an empty comfort, most of the times you feel the need to remind yourself that you’re not actually talking to someone, are you?

“What’s that sad look in your eyes?” He startles you when you’re off looking vacantly out the window. Your mind has been completely distracted lately by meaningless thoughts and the sweetest reels of Jaehyun that have turned blue.

The more you wrap yourself in your white sheets, the less you can feel any source of warmth. And perhaps you haven’t realized that you no longer felt any heat the past few days, that you’re at a freezing point and it’s made you numb.

“Not sure what you mean.” Your voice remains dull and monotone, lifeless almost. Jaehyun takes a seat against the window and for the first time, you can see right through him.

“It’s not your fault, y/n.” Is he a mind reader too? The thought that always circles your mind when Christmas draws near is not only that Jaehyun is gone forever, but how you could have prevented it all. The guilt eats you up and no matter how hard you’re searching for acceptance, it slips away from you before you have a chance.

When you don’t answer, Jaehyun heads over to your bed and he’s alarmed at how cold your hands are. “It was never your fault.” Your best friend pulls you into a hug, but it can barely be felt. What kind of hug can’t be felt?

“I never said it was.”

“No, but you thought about it.” The chilly draft causes you to shiver and it’s hard for you to concentrate on anything else besides the night of his death.

“I should have stopped you from coming over.” Although you’ve confessed this many times to him before, it never gets easier to say. Jaehyun sighs and ultimately frowns at your tears slipping from your eyes again. Like the snow that drifts from the heavens, your tears know no end to their downfall. It’s become too natural for them to appear. The closer it gets to Christmas, the harder it is to stop from crying.

“It’s hard for me to speak about it since we don’t remember much of the same moments---”

“Jaehyun! I remember that night as clear as it was just yesterday that it happened.” There’s no reason to yell, but a strong sense of pain erupts from your chest.

He’s so calm at your sudden outburst, turning his head to face you with a deadpan expression. “You weren’t there, y/n. You were home, safe and sound as you should have been. I’m more than grateful that you’re the one alive.”

“I’m not!” But when the confession leaves your lips, you’re shaking and fearful. The entire room is stiff and silent. You couldn’t even believe what you had just said, wondering if that is anything close to truth. You look up at Jaehyun, who blinks at you with furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes. “I mean,” you clear your throat in the midst of the tense atmosphere. “I could have saved you.”

“You’re not a hero and I didn’t need saving when I was already gone.” He taps his temples lightly, “full trauma to the head. It was just my time to go.”

“The secret. I wanted to know so bad that I didn’t stop you from coming in a snowstorm!” Jaehyun pats your head in an attempt to soothe your aching heart.

“And I wanted to tell you just as bad that I didn’t care about the snowstorm. y/n, stop blaming yourself for something that happened to me. The universe is much more complex than that, give it some credit.”

“You’re even philosophical as a ghost? Give me a fucking break.” Groaning, you pull the sheets over your head to somehow run away from the conversation.

Jaehyun lies down next to you, smiling cheekily to himself and glancing over at the lump that you had become underneath the blankets. “Do you remember the time I taught you how to ride a bike?”

“I thought it was your dad who taught me.” You grumble, tossing away the sheets to glance over at him. It always puzzled you how Jaehyun never remembered the same memories as you do, and even if you did, one of you remembered it differently.

“He was probably there as supervision. I was the one who helped you take off your training wheels and strap on your impressively thick knee pads.” You’re lying on your elbows now, fists pressing into your cheeks and a fond attentive gaze upon Jaehyun’s resting figure. He’s staring up at the ceiling that protects you two above, yet can cave in at any moment.

Dimples dip into his round supple cheeks as his toothy smile comes into view, reliving the happy memory. “You rang your little bell so many times that day.”

“Because I was scared!” You protest, muttering something incoherent. “Didn’t we go downhill when I said I wasn’t ready?”

“We went downhill because you said you were ready.” His hair ruffles in your sheets when he turns to face you, and he just takes your breath away. It’s the stars in his dark eyes that sweep you off your feet, like the gleaming star on top of a tree. The color that oozes from his smile, like Christmas lights that line a rooftop, make it hard not to stare. Jaehyun looks just like Christmas, the most wonderful thing of the year. In someway, he resembled an angel or the soft sheet of snow ready to fall right through.

You’re encompassed by overwhelming effervescent emotions from listening and watching Jaehyun glow and gleam. “Then, what?”

Jaehyun’s low chuckle illuminates the room, dazzling the boring grey interior. “Little ol’ you, hurt yourself real bad that day, scrapes and wounds you thought you’d never heal from. You didn’t talk to me for a week, but you ended up learning how to ride a bike.”

“Is that right?”

Jaehyun rests on his side now, only an elbow supporting his body and he’s leaning in close to your face, you’re almost too sure you could feel a breath on your lips. “No matter how painful it gets, I’m always here to push you through it all.”

When your heart beats sporadically at his proximity, you didn’t realize that you are holding in a breath, being quite afraid that if you let it out, it would simply blow him away for the night. And you’re not ready for him to leave you again.

Christmas Eve;

It had to be a miracle that anyone got a hold of you this week when Johnny comes practically banging at your door. Though you are so close to ignoring his loud thumping, the sound of your boyfriend’s soft sniffles alarms you greatly.

“y/n, holy shit!” It’s deja vu when you’re in his arms again, a horribly warped version of it when the smell of peppermint bark tickles your nostrils disgustingly. “I thought something happened to you. You weren’t answering my calls or texts.”

“My one wish for Christmas was to be left alone and I meant it.” The attitude in your voice becomes jarringly evident and Johnny blinks back at you with a new found annoyance as well.

“Can you at least think of the other people around you?” He holds your shoulders lightly, but staring into his eyes seems to be harder to do lately. Jaehyun appears on the couch, lying flat on his stomach and a hand resting underneath his chin. This is no longer a private conversation, but you learned long ago that no one else can see him.

“Who are you talking about? My family? Because they’ve all given up on me.” This is the first time Johnny has seen you act so cold and distant, yet entirely vulnerable. You’re stripped of everything that you usually hide in --- oversized clothes, happy smiles, and a beaming warmth.

All Johnny ever wants is for you to be loved, not only by him, but by the world. And interestingly enough, he loved you for your vulnerability and your rawness. This is until he realizes, in this moment, that it stems from your trauma of losing Jaehyun.

“What about me, y/n? I’m still here.” Johnny is frantic, and by all means, hurt by your aloofness. Brushing off his hands from your body, you’re taking several steps away from him.

“And why are you still here when I kept telling you to leave me alone? Whenever I was upset, Jaehyun always gave me space! Haven’t ever thought about how that is something I need?” You’re saying nonsensical statements that are fueled by anger and annoyance.

He’s pushing your limits and for once, you’re pushing him away. But this isn’t new to you, in fact, you’ve pushed so many people away just like this and that’s why they’ve decided to just let you be.

Johnny is taken aback, “you know, I feel like I’m competing with Jaehyun and I’ve never even met him.”

You scoff and throw your arms in the air, visibly in disbelief at what your boyfriend is saying to you. May you lose your temper, you’re unsure about the future of this relationship. Yet, something in your cruel and painful heart no longer cared, snapping your wits and patience at your beloved.

“What are you saying?” You’re pacing back and forth, fuming with an inexplicable infuriation. Jaehyun catches your eye, and for a brief moment, you’re holding eye contact with him instead. “Jaehyun is dead,” facing Johnny now, you say words that jumble in your chest, regardless of their true meanings, “and even if he was alive, there would be no competition.”

“Because you were always going to choose him over everyone else in your life, is that right? Exactly like how you do now.” Johnny’s words sting like daggers at your skin, worse than the layer of frost that bites at you for the past two weeks.

“Please, don’t attack me for hurting.” With that, your voice breaks and cracks all over. Your tears hit the ground without you feeling them run down your cheeks.

Johnny is quick to wipe them away, not minding that his hands will now be wet from your salty droplets. He instantly regrets it all, the unwarranted questions, the fighting, the barging in unexpectedly. It pains him more to see you like this.

“I apologize. I’m sorry that I’m not saying the kindest words to you when you need to hear them the most.” Your partner is frowning, a true rare sight to see. “But, you’re still grieving and there is going to have to be a time that you move on.”

It’s one of those tip of the iceberg moments or when the ball finally hits the ground and a rush of cathartic enthusiasm washes over you. However, you’re not happy. You’re not even remotely close to happiness. You’re fucking sad, you’re aching with a pain so deeply rooted that it isolates you, that it rips apart anything that used to bring you joy.

And this causes you to scream your lungs out, sobs that choke you up. “I can’t! You don’t understand, no one understands! I just fucking can’t. He was my best friend and that night… he was going to tell me something.” Jaehyun can’t bear to hear your piercing wails, as he’s disappeared completely from the setting. When you’re panicked and searching for him, you only see Johnny staring back at you with a very concerned expression.

“And I will never know what he wanted to tell me.” Your tone grows soft and rather delicate, like a sad realization at the possibility that the secret died with Jaehyun that night.

“Some things are better left unknown. Do you really think you’ll feel better knowing?”

“Listen to him, y/n.” Jaehyun randomly appears next to Johnny’s stature. He stands a few inches shorter than him, but the sight of them together has you blinking in awe.

You’re darting between the two of them, “I don’t know what will make me feel better.”

“Come, tonight. Your whole family wants to see you for the one holiday that brings people together.” But when Johnny steps forward, you’re taking a step back.

“Please, just go.” With an assertive point to the door, your head does not lift up to watch your boyfriend leave. Despite every person you’ve done this to, Johnny’s hurts the most. His flame dies out tonight, providing no sense of security or heat. And with a toss of his arms of exasperation, he shuts your front door and leaves without a goodbye, without wishing you a merry Christmas.

Jaehyun calls your name, but you’re rushing to your bedroom and slamming the door shut. “Don’t you dare travel through the wall.”

Your apartment has grown so dark due to the shorten winter days. It’s pitch black all around you and the sky is no longer a deafening white. It’s the first time you notice the dark blue scattered clouds and the intricate snowflakes that drift carefully down to the streets. And, you’re all alone in the quietness. You truly are isolated every Christmas.

“y/n, let’s talk.” Jaehyun is beyond fed up with your behavior, that has to be the last straw. This is the first year since his death that he’s seen the evident spark in your eye, the hope that is hiding behind your depression. He sees it in the way Johnny looks at you, like you’re the greatest present he could receive in life. In your proclamation, as hard as it was to witness, is a spirit that wishes to be freed. There was a chance this year. There still is one.

“Jaehyun, you left me! You left all alone, and no matter how hard I try to stop thinking about you, it never works. In the end, no one is here for me like how you were.” Hands in your hair, you’re losing yourself at a rapid rate. It hurts to keep your eyes open, tears sting as they well up around the rims.

“Find a part of me in the people around you.” The door to your bedroom swings open and Jaehyun takes note of you by the window again. You want to leave, you want to be out there and he knows, before you can actually realize it yourself. You’re turning to face him and in the dark, he looks solid. He looks so real and whole.

“How do I do that?” It’s a genuine question that you’ve pondered before, but never feeling like you had the strength to do so. You’re always dwelling on your past with Jaehyun, indulging in the sacred memories only you two shared.

“What are things that you associate me with?” He is found leaning against your door frame again, hands are shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans.

You say the first thing on your mind, “snow.” When the words hit the air, your ceiling light flickers briefly. Jaehyun doesn’t flinch, however, still focused on your crying figure. Snow, the first sign of snowfall is when he appears for the winter.

“What else?” He encourages.

“Familiarity.” The light flashes again, for a mere second longer this time before it resumes darkness. Familiarity, for he grew up by your side for as long as you could remember.

There is an odd feeling that enters the room and you’re fearful of the unknown. But, Jaehyun’s cadence doesn’t falter, he’s not distracted by the random spurts of light. And if anything, it all could be his doing. “Keep going.”

“Comfort.” Flicker. “Warmth. Love. Excitement.” With each word, the light builds stronger and stronger. You’re speaking memories into existence now, “making snow angels until it got dark, laughing until our stomachs hurt, watching movies until the clock struck midnight, dancing until our legs gave out!”

Streams run down your face and you’re yelling until your throat feels raw, but you don’t wish to stop as the light glows brighter and brighter with each spoken word.

As you listen to every listed attribute and memory, you recognize a central theme in all of them and one thing that Jaehyun embodies, the one thing he’s always been associated with.

“Christmas.” A shaky breath exhales and a loud spark pierces your ears. The light illuminates intensely all around you, lighting up the darkest corners of your room and blinding you more than the sky has been lately.

“Jaehyun?” Closing your eyes, you can see the brightness through your eyelids and you’re beyond confused as to what is happening. When you mindlessly reach for his hand, you actually feel it and your heart is soaring due to strange unquestionable physics.

Jaehyun intertwines your hand in his own and caresses your face gently. For once, he doesn’t feel cold. He’s blazing hot, melting away the long days of isolation. “Open your eyes, y/n.”

What lies before you is an incredible, marvelous sight. Snow dusts the roof of your family’s house as green, red, yellow bulbs light the frame of it. Your parents really went all out; round snowmen sit perfectly together on your lawn. A decorative wreath hangs at the front door and a distinct chuckle catches your attention.

From the window that looks into your kitchen, your mother rolls a sheet of dough on the counter as clouds of flour erupt around her. Your father is preoccupied at the stove, with the silliest gimmicks for decorating the feast they’re about to hold. Silver tinsel line the dinner table with a festive table cloth draped upon it. The remarkable tree shines in the center of the living room, a glimmering star on top.

“I know we probably won’t see y/n again this Christmas…” The sound of your mother’s voice rings a bell in your yearning heart and Jaehyun is gazing at you with a wondrous look in his eyes. The grip on his hand is tight, your breath enters the night in puffs of smoke, and regardless of this all being real or imaginary, you’re so immersed in this reality that he knows you’re anticipating what your family has to say.

“... but something about this year really makes me miss them.” Your mother puts the rolling pin off to the side and rests her hand on the kitchen counter, trying to hold back any form of her own tears from falling.

“May Jaehyun watch over them tonight, our little angel doesn’t deserve to be alone.”

Your dad walks over to embrace your mother in a long hug, kissing the top of her head gently. “Merry Christmas, y/n.” Your father speaks into the air, without the knowledge of you outside, he’s thinking of you.

Something in your heart shatters, but it’s entirely different from the pain you’ve felt over the years following Jaehyun’s death. It’s a warm, bubbly feeling that spreads across your chest and you’re covering your mouth out of pure shock at the sight of your parents.

Your parents, who you’ve neglected every holiday season, still think of you. You recognize the ingredients that scatter the table, they make your favorite dish every year in hopes you’ll come join them.

Jaehyun whispers, “y/n, know that I’m always going to be here. I may physically be gone, but I live in your heart and the joyous memories we’ve shared together. I live through the many people who love you now, through Christmas. This spirit is also very much alive in the other people around you.”

When you peel your eyes from the scene of your parents, the vision suddenly disappears and you’re facing Jaehyun right back in your cold, empty, dark apartment. But you wish the moment lasted a little longer. For the first time in a long time, you wish to be with your loved ones. You wish to celebrate Christmas with the people who still care about you, the ones that are still alive and well.

“What if I��m not ready?”

“This signifies my final push down the hill. You’re all strapped up in your knee pads, y/n. You’re never truly going to be ready, but that shouldn’t stop you from trying.” Jaehyun pats your head lovingly and mimics the motions of securing a helmet on your head.

You’re letting go of his hand, running around quickly in search for the appropriate outerwear for the snow. It’s like a switch went off in your heart and a cathartic feeling settles in the pit of your stomach.

Every Christmas since his passing, you thought it was best to be alone. You thought it was selfish to live your favorite holiday season without your best friend, that you lost the spirit of Christmas.

However, this entire time… Jaehyun’s ghost has been a reminder that the Christmas spirit has always been alive. It’s not about the enthusiastic festive events or the cheerful themed activities or the distinct colorful decorations, it’s about the appreciation and love you have for the people who have made your year so special. You’ve associated the holiday so much with your best friend, that you’ve lost sight of it in your family, your current friends, your own boyfriend.

When you’re rushing out the door, you stop in your tracks and peer back at Jaehyun leaning against your door frame, just as he appeared a few weeks ago. He has the warmest, brightest smile on his face, “y/n, I think I finally remember the secret I wanted to tell you.” You’re afraid of the answer and the outside world, but your hand doesn’t slip from the door handle. Could it really be? The long anticipated secret that has been gnawing at your conscience since his death?

Nevertheless, he’s giggling and holding his stomach slightly from the immense amount of joyous laughter. “I wanted to tell you that I... finally learned how to shave.”

At first, you’re stunned at the simplicity of the beheld secret. All this time, you thought it had been something so meaningful, something so mind blowing, that needing to know practically destroyed your mental state. Then, a wholehearted and genuine laugh erupts from inside of you and you’re lighting up the darkest parts of yourself. Jaehyun looks at you fondly, like a beauty that he hasn’t seen in awhile.

“That’s fucking it? You came out in the middle of a blizzard to tell me you learned how to shave? How lame.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “when did I ever need an extremely valid reason to see you?” The laughter falls short at his confession and in the midst of all this enthusiasm, you bid him the softest smile. His purpose has been fulfilled, as the best version of you he’s always known and loved stands before him at last.

“I guess... you’re right. What’s going to happen to you now?”

“I’ll always be here for Christmas, even when you’re old and grey surrounded by the warmth of your loved ones in front of a large, extravagant Christmas tree. When the snow falls, I’ll be here.” Jaehyun’s dimple smile is the lasting image you see, the one you’ve always hoped to remember him by.

“Merry Christmas, Jung Jaehyun… I--”

“Love you too, y/n. Merry Christmas.” He ushers you out the door with a small kiss on your knuckles.

That is the last time you ever see him again. Now, when the snow falls, it marks the anniversary of your long awaited healing, the journey to acceptance, and the beloved memory of your best friend. May you never lose the spirit of Christmas and the warmth from your loved ones.

#nct scenarios #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #neothestars #kpopscape #nct scenario #nct #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct fluff #nct angst #nct imagines #jung jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun scenario

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

Text

Revelation

Harry Potter Marauders Era-post Hogwarts

Summary: After James and Lily's deaths, you have to face secrets from your past. Secrets that caused a lot of pain are going to be brought back from the furthest corners of your heart. You have to learn to care for your nephew in the midst of a war that no one wants to deal with.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M- sensitive themes

Shout out to @regulusheadcanons for some kick ass ideas

________

Home again...it should be a happy occasion but it wasn’t. You had received word from Sirius that James and Lily had been killed. Your older brother and sunny sister-in-law and best friend were gone and your sweet nephew was an orphan.

Y/n, I have Harry but I need your help. Remus and I need you and you’ll need your family in the coming days. Please come home.”

You had read the letter multiple times on the flight from the US back to the UK and felt even more guilty with each second. If you had just stayed home and didn’t run off to the state after your break up with Regulus; maybe James and Lily would still be alive.

Whether you were home or away if James and Lily were destined to die it would happen.

Remus’ words came back to you from the night before. You had spent an hour before bed last night crying to Remus over the phone. As usual, Remus was the one person that could calm you down. It could have been Regulus but he totally shot that to hell.

Regulus was still a sore subject for you...a secretive sore subject. The two of you had dated “in private” since the fifth year. You thought that the two of you were in love but Regulus wasn’t ready to “let his parents down.” Those were his words, not yours. You were under the impression that after graduation the two of you would begin a life together as Jams and Lily did. When Regulus ended the relationship because he knew that his parents wouldn’t support it. There was no way that Walburga and Orion Black would be happy with their heir dating a Potter that was in Gryffindor.

To deal with the pain of the breakup, you packed a bag and took off to America. You had left your brother and close friends in a state of confusion. They couldn’t wrap their minds around why you would just vanish in the middle of the night with literally no explanation. You played it off as some kind of “getting to know yourself” adventure and everyone seemed to believe it.

Now here you were going back home to rejoin the order that Regulus was apparently now a part of. You were trying to think of ways that you would be able to be in the same room with him and not act as if the two of you once had a passion-fueled relationship. Did you still have feelings for Regulus? Yes, you knew that there was no sense in denying it. You also knew the first time that you laid eyes on him all of those feelings would multiply...I’m screwed.

(1 hour later)

Regulus stood beside Sirius and Remus waiting for your plane to land. He had no idea what he was doing by tagging along with his brother but here he was.

You’re here because you love Y/n and are desperate to see her. You want to tell her that you were a fool for not manning up and telling mum and dad to bugger off.

Regulus thought as he tried to calm himself. The thoughts were truthful. He never should have let his family’s reputation affect his decision on how he handled the relationship that he valued the most...but he did. Now here Regulus stood a miserable lonely bastard with a brand on his left arm that he couldn’t get off.

Life sucks.

He had no family, no prospects of a successful future, and no lover. The life that Regulus knew so well had gone down the all-mighty porcelain shit hole in the course of one year. After finding out that her “heir” switched sides, Walburga banished Regulus from the family. Lucky for him, Regulus drained his Gringotts vault before his mother could leave him poor and penniless. Regulus could deal with the whole not having a successful future part. Working for the order should provide him some kind of satisfaction (eventually...maybe) The not having a lover part was the worst of all the three.

Regulus hated the way that he felt over the past year that you had been gone. He had attempted to date other girls but it always went south. There was something wrong with every girl that Regulus went out with.

This one talks too much.

This one has no personality.

This one bit me when giving me a blowjob.

None of them was the one girl that he wanted the most. Not one of the girls was the one that Regulus knew...the one that he loved.

“Hey grumpy, are you okay over there?”

Regulus looked up when Sirius spoke. Rolling his eyes, Regulus turned to face his brother with a sneer.

“He’s so charming.”

Sirius said with a smirk as he elbowed Remus in the side. Remus was used to the banter between Sirius and Regulus. It was mostly Sirius nagging Regulus and Regulus either rolling his eyes or calling Sirius a twat.

“There’s Y/n.”

Sirius quickly said before walking out into the aisle. He smiled as you finally met his gaze. You quickly threw your bag down before running to Sirius and jumping in his arms. What you didn’t see was Regulus watching the whole thing with a furiously jealous expression on his face.

Is there something that I’m missing? Of course, she likes Sirius. Why wouldn’t she? He is sooo good looking! He has such a charming attitude.

Regulus thought bitterly as Sirius held you a little longer than necessary. Were the two of you in some kind of relationship that Regulus didn’t know about and if so why hadn’t Sirius mentioned it? Regulus would go ape shit if the two of you were dating...you were his...used to be his.

What Regulus didn’t know was the hug was purely therapeutic and comforting for the both of you. Sirius needed you as much as you needed him (in a strictly platonic way). You were as good as a little sister to Sirius and seeing you after James and Lily’s death soothing. Sirius knew that you needed the support as much as he did.

Sirius didn’t want to think about the fact that Harry and yourself were the only Potter left now. His “new” family has quickly diminished before his eyes. Sirius had been so thrilled to finally have a family that loved him and now it was mostly gone. In Sirius’ mind, he had already made a personal pledge to make sure that nothing happened to you. He would make sure that both Harry and yourself were safe until the day that he died.

You let yourself slide out of Sirius’ arms as he smiled down at you. This was the first that either of you had smiled in a few days.

“Look at you. One year across the pond and you are still as adorable as when you left.”

Sirius said with a smile You rolled your eyes. This was typically Sirius Black. He always knew how to say something to make even the worst situations a bit better.

“And you always know what to say. It's good to see you...especially now.”

Sirius nodded, his face darkening. It was no secret to the two of you that the days ahead would be some of the darkest of your lives. Sirius pulled you into another hug. Pressing a kiss to the top of your head Sirius had to fight his own tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes.

“We are going to make it. We have to for Harry.”

You nodded in agreement. James and Lily made it clear that if anything should happen to them, they wanted Sirius and yourself to take care of Harry. The two of you, a couple or not, were the ones that would be the best fit to care for and love their son the most.

“We’ve got this.”

You said in agreement. Both Sirius and yourself sucked at making your true feelings known. It would be easier to say that the two of you were devastated and didn’t know how life would ever go back to normal...but you wouldn't...you couldn’t.

Sirius finally let you go before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I have a surprise for you. I dragged Remus along with my grumpy brother. Don’t mind him, he just hates everyone equally.”

The moment that you looked up and locked eyes with Regulus, your mouth dropped. There he stood...he was so close that you could run to him.

He hurt you. He doesn’t deserve a moment of your time. Kick him in the shins if he tries anything.

The sassy voice in your head picked up as your brain went into over-protection mode. As much as you wanted to hug Regulus, you weren't. You would admire him from afar.

“Hello, Regulus.”

He nodded, not saying anything. Regulus had a feeling that if he spoke, feelings that he didn’t want Sirius or Remus to know would spill out. He would look like a fool in the middle of the airport.

Regulus wanted nothing more than to tell you that he had changed. He wasn’t the man that he used to be. If you would just give him a chance, he could prove it...or was he too late. Had Sirius stolen you from him for good? Would Regulus be able to watch the two of you as a couple? Hell no! Regulus would rather be killed or just die in some tragic way than watch you be his brother’s lover.

Sometimes dead is better.

Before Regulus was able to make a comment, Remus stepped in and pulled you into a hug. Regulus put his head down with an insolent frown. What he didn’t see was Sirius watching him with a suspicious frown. Why did Regulus suddenly look like a jealous lover?

Arriving back to Sirius’ house, you were thrilled to automatically be greeted by Marlene and Dorcas. Both of your friends took turns hugging you and cradling you like a baby.

“You look so pretty! Dorcas, doesn’t she look pretty?”

Marlene squealed. Dorcas nodded.

“Of course, she looks pretty. We’ve missed your face.”

“Um, you two are kind of hurting my face.”

You squeaked. Both Dorcas and Marlene backed away as Sirius stepped into the room with Harry in his arms. Your happy smile faded as you laid your eyes on your nephew that looked so much like his father.

Sirius smiled as he placed the baby boy in your arms.

“Harry, say hello to your aunty Y/n. She’s a doll, huh?”

Sirius smirked as he noticed Regulus step into the room. The younger brother immediately locked his eyes on you.

Crap….

He was dreading the moment that you met your nephew for the first time. Regulus dreaded seeing your tears and here you were cuddling the baby with tears in your eyes. He hated it even more that he couldn’t comfort you like he used to. When something was bothering you before, Regulus took care of it. He knew how to make everything better. Whether it be simply cuddling you, kicking someone’s ass in “secret”, or physical comfort...Regulus did it.

“Uh oh, I think someone needs a change.”

You stated, pulling Regulus from his thoughts. Sirius pointed to the little bedroom off of the kitchen.

“That’s his room. Feel free to do whatever you need to. I normally put him down for a nap about this time.”

You walked from the room with a smile leaving Sirius and Regulus alone in the kitchen.

The moment that you were gone, Regulus sat down at the table and reached for the newspaper in front of him. Sirius, meanwhile, decided to ask questions about his suspicions.

“So, Reg, I have a curious question.”

Regulus didn’t look up from the newspaper. His dark eyes were focused on reading. The less that he had to deal with his brother the better off he was. He was too busy trying to control his emotions over you and didn’t have the strength or patience to deal with Sirius and his nonsense.

“The answer is yellow and you are not a woman.”

Regulus replied with a small smirk. Sirius gave his brother an annoyed sneer.

“I’m aware of that fact and I have no idea what yellow has to do with anything. My question is what happened between Y/n and yourself?”

Regulus looked up, obviously surprised.

“Excuse me?”

Sirius glanced over his shoulder to make sure that you weren’t listening.

“I saw how the two of you look at each other.”

Regulus resumed his “cool as a cucumber” attitude. Turning the page of the newspaper, he went back to reading.

“I should ask you the same question.”

It was Sirius’ turn to look confused.

“Huh?”

Regulus snorted.

“The way that you two go gaga over each other. It's disgusting. I wish James would come back from the dead to kick your ass.”

Sirius blinked. The way that the two of you acted at the airport was typical “Sirius and Y/n” behavior. Anyone that knew the two of you would agree to that. It was playful fun between friends. Sirius didn’t look at you like…

Oh my god, Regulus is hot for Y/n!

Sirius’ mouth dropped at the thought. He quickly pointed at his little brother.

“You like her! Have you two...done dirty things?”

Regulus looked up. He placed his elbows on the table to place his chin on his hands.

“To answer your question, yes we have done dirty things. If you think that you are going to be half the lover to her that I was, you are sadly mistaken. I bet she hasn’t called you daddy before.”

The words left Regulus’ mouth before he could really think about what he said. Normally, Regulus typically was very calculating with what he said. This comment, however, just came out leaving Regulus feeling like a jealous 13-year-old girl who was deciding who could sit with him at lunch and who couldn’t.

“Huh?”

Sirius questioned. Regulus didn’t blink or move.

“What?”

Regulus replied, with a sneaky smirk. Sirius, meanwhile, stood with his mouth wide open as he realized exactly what his brother said. Regulus didn’t make any facial expression as Sirius scratched his head. How long had you been sleeping with Regulus? When did this happen and where was Sirius? How did he not pick up on this and you called Regulus “daddy.”

Sirius would never think about his little brother in that particular context. He still saw Regulus as his innocent quiet brother who he assumed was still a virgin but obviously wasn’t (and he was apparently good at doing the “deed.”)

Regulus-fucking-Black is a kinky dude... it's always the quiet ones.

Sirius thought before speaking gibberish when he tried to question his brother on when and where this all started and how did he miss the memo?

“Y-wh-she-where…”

Regulus smirked before going back to his newspaper leaving his brother to question everything about a world that he thought he knew so well. He only looked up again when you stepped into the room with Remus behind you. The two of you were talking quietly and stopped at Sirius’ strange actions.

“Sirius, what’s wrong?”

Remus questioned as you looked between both brothers. Sirius motioned to Regulus then to you and uttered a strange slew of words that were mixed together so much that no one could understand. Had you not been so confused, you would have found Sirius’ over the top dramatic motions to Remus amusing. He clearly expected Remus to understand what he was talking about but Remus just blinked and scratched his head.

“Uh-huh.”

Remus politely replied and decided that he was not going to try to decipher what Sirius was freaking out for the moment. Once Sirius got himself together, Remus was sure that he would hear about whatever it was.

Regulus stood up with a pleased smile on his face.

“My work here is done.”

You had a feeling on what happened. Sirius was just let in on the “big secret” and was having the reaction that you expected. If James was still alive he would either be doing the same thing or he would have Regulus in a headlock...it would be a real toss-up. Hopefully, somewhere in heaven, your brother wasn’t giving Lily too hard of a time.

Waiting a moment longer, you turned and followed Regulus outside onto the front step. He was in the middle of lighting a cigarette when you stepped out with no coat on. Rolling his eyes, he didn’t want to let his attention linger too long but couldn’t help it.

“Go back inside. It's cold out here.”

Regulus commented. He felt bad that the first thing that he said to you was an order. The last thing that he wanted was for you to get ill. You crossed your arms over your chest as the cold autumn air surrounded you.

“So the first words that you say to me is an order. Is that how it's going to be?”

You questioned as Regulus took a drag on the cigarette before turning back to you. He groaned before tossing the half-smoked cigarette into the waiting ashtray. Pulling his coat off he gently wrapped it around your shoulders.

You were clearly surprised by his action. Surprised and heartbroken was the exact feelings that you had going through you. The coat smelled just like Regulus always had from the time that you had gotten to know him. That comforting scent that always made your overly anxious nerves relax anytime that he was near you.

“Um...sorry. Hello, sorry that I’m an ass.”

Regulus offered, clearly confused as to what you wanted from him. You sighed.

“You told Sirius about our relationship didn’t you?”

Regulus shook his head.

“Not exactly. He asked if we did dirty things and I simply said that I bet you haven’t called him daddy before.”

All of the thoughts came to a screeching halt in your mind. Regulus had actually said that to Sirius and now Sirius knew! You blushed at the realization that you would have to explain this to Sirius soon. There was also the annoyance that Regulus didn’t seem to mind letting his brother in on the secret but he couldn't open his mouth to his parents. Maybe you were right all along? Perhaps the relationship was just about the sex to Regulus and when he said “I love you” he didn’t really mean it.

“You’re comfortable telling Sirius what we do in the bedroom but you don’t have the balls to tell your parents anything...lovely.”

Regulus’ face was unreadable for a moment.

“I don’t talk to my parents anymore. You would have known that if you hadn’t run off to America.”

“You broke up with me. I had nothing to stay for. As far as I knew, you were stuck on being a death eater and wanted nothing more to do with me. Did you honestly think that I was going to wait around for you to walk all over me again? I’m not dirt under your shoe just because I am not some member of some super elite club of pureblood morons.”

Regulus didn’t expect the venom to ooze out of your mouth the way that it did. Now here he stood looking at you with an annoyed expression.

“It looks like you’ve moved on just fine with my brother.”

You laughed at that comment...hard.

“Sirius and I? Wow, you must really be fucked in the head if you think that I would date someone who is like another brother to me.”

“I'm fucked in the head? Did you really say that?”

Regulus snapped. You nodded.

“Yep. Sure did. You know what, maybe I should date Sirius. At least, he was there for me. He wanted to make sure that I was okay and even offered to come to America to get me. You didn’t. In this whole year that we have been broken up, how many times have you tried to contact me? I’ll answer that...none. All that I have to say to you is, Regulus Black you aren’t getting your coat back.”

You turned on your head storming in the house and slamming the door behind you. Regulus stood looking at the place that you once stood with an annoyed frown.

“Fuck!

________

@amelie-black @regulusheadcanons @truly-insatiable @fandomsxxregulus @realgaytrash @quuenofblacks @lucasfilms77 @fific7 @hazncalsgal @teletubiswszpilkach @exhsle @acciosiriusblack @whymyparentscheckmyphone @criminalyetminimal @bennyberry @mimisparkle12 @jessyballet @knreidy1 @rubyroscoe1 @spiderxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @summer-novak @hankypranky @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @stuckinsaudi1 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @deanwherescas @wontlookaway @shitfaceddaniel @mycuddlycorner @marichromatic

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imagine-lcorp · 5 years ago

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Call You Mine (One Shot)

Request

Yay you're taking requests! Lena x reader where reader is constantly being hit on by other men and women day after day. Lena doesn't think too much of it at first but slowly it'll start to irritate her. One day Lena is fuming with jealousy"I seriously can't take you anywhere! It doesn't matter where we go there are always some idiot flirting with you!" R jokes about putting a ring on her finger to make her invisible to other single people. Lena takes the idea and decides to propose to R.

A/N: Hello my dear beans, long time i know, I know, I just hope you’re doing good and that u are taking care of yourselves. I know these are hard and complicated times, things are uncertain and the world seem in utter chaos, just know that I’m here. Try your best and reach out if u need. You’re important and I’m here for u. I know this isn’t much but pls enjoy this little piece. Love u guys.

Lena Luthor x Fem!R//Word Count: 1,729

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There was something about you, Lena knew, that drew people like moths to the flame. It was the energy that radiated from your body every time you met someone new. It was the warmth in each on your smiles that could disarm an entire army. It was the light that was instantly conjured inside every room you stepped in. Lena had experienced this and much more and she knew she couldn't blame the others for looking at you, or approaching you, in searching for that light.

She, unfortunately, didn't expect the kind of approach that involved lingering looks and flirtatious tones some strangers used when talking to you. Like that bartender you were talking to.

She could notice it from far away as you ordered your drinks. The way he smiled at you, the way he talked making jokes trying to coax a smile from you. The lingering touch of his hand on yours as he handed you the drinks over the table. In the grand scheme of things, that was nothing, a simple exchange and interaction that would lose all meaning once you left the beach in that marvelous summer day. Lena had tried to repeat herself as much as she observed you and the bartender, with her eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

She had tried not to think too much about it, but when you were being hit on by others, once or twice or more, day after day, Lena finally had to admit it was something she didn't enjoy. What frustrated her the most was the fact that, objectively speaking, she could say nothing about it. It was not as if she could put a sign over your head that could read 'Lena Luthor's Girlfriend. Do Not Tresspass' or stop people from even looking or talking to you. But she also couldn't help the sting of possessiveness that struck her every time she had to witness that.

This time, however, she couldn't seem to hold it anymore. She left her chair and walked towards the bar as the bartender kept trying to keep the small talk going between you two.

"There you are, darling. Are our drinks taking too long?"

"Hey, babe. Sorry, I'm the one who is taking too long." You innocently apologized, unaware of the hint of annoyance in Lena's voice.

"Johnny here was telling me about this surfing event the beach is gonna be having this week. It seems like a big thing."

"Yeah, it is. I'm gonna be there too so, if you wanna see a good show, you can just come and see me." The bartender replied with a grin.

"What a shame." Lena replied before you could. The mock clear in her words. "I mean, we are leaving tomorrow."

"Oh, that's right." You said nonchalant.

"I guess it will have to be another time. Now, we should go, (Y/N). He probably has a lot of work." The mention of your name finally made you realize something was off with Lena. That and the forced a smile she was trying to pull at the bartender. "Nice meeting you, Johnny."

"Likewise." Lena saw him wink at you unaltered by the interaction, and felt herself almost losing it.

Instead, she took her cocktail from your hand and, without another word, she strode back to where you had been taking your sunbath.

You had to blink a few times before muttering your own goodbye and catching up with Lena who, by the looks of it, wasn't having any more fun.

"I seriously can't take you anywhere!" Came the exasperated response.

"Hey, what has come over you?" You asked a bit worried this time. You had never seen Lena this irritated before.

"It doesn't matter where we go there are always some idiot flirting with you!" Lena stopped and turned to look at you. Even with the sunglasses, you could see the little frown in her face.

You were slightly surprised by it but now you understood what it all was about. "Wait, are you like... jealous?"

"No, I'm-" Lena turned around with a huff and walked towards your little spot on the beach, taking a seat again. "Never mind, it's nothing."

"Babe?" You called, taking a seat next to her. "Lena?"

"Mmh?" She was trying to hide her face by drinking from her cocktail.

"Look at me." You asked softly.

Lena left her drink on the little table beside her and took off her sunglasses. A bit reluctantly, she did as you said.

You had never known Lena to suffer from jealousy but, of course, there was still a lot of things you didn't know about Lena Luthor, and not for lack of trying.

You knew that from a young age, and ever since Lena had become part of the Luthor family, she had to learn to keep her true feelings to herself. Having a heart of your own was a dangerous thing to have among the Luthors, who prided themselves on being methodical, analytical, always in control. The image she gave to the world was that of an ever composed, always calm, collected prodigy and business woman. Everything that was expected from her to be.

It was hard some times to really know what Lena was feeling when most of her life she had been conditioned to compartmentalize her feelings. Putting them in tiny boxes and shoving them to the darkest corners of her mind so they would not affect her rational thinking. It was even harder for Lena to change that and relearn how to navigate and not to hide her emotions.

There were some occasions, like this one, when you were unaware of Lena's true feelings until you noticed she wouldn't talk much, or until you started to fight over trifles and trivialities. Only then you would realize there was something bothering her and try to talk to her about it. You knew it wasn't an easy feat, for either of you, but you were making progress.

"It doesn't matter how many idiots try to flirt with me because, hear me out, they got nothing on you." You assured her in a soft voice, pulling yourself closer to the edge of your seat, so you could reach her hand with yours. "I don't even think it is possible for me to care about anyone but you."

The frown in her face dissolved as she looked at you with a little pout.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, I do. I'm sorry." Lena said caressing your hand with her fingers.

"It's alright, just remember I love you and only you." You pulled yourself forward, planting a quick kiss on Lena's lips. "But if that keeps bothering you, I don't know, you can make me an invisible cape or ring to keep them at bay." You said smiling and winking at her.

Although Lena was still annoyed at the whole situation, she couldn't help but smile. Unaware of it, you had given her something to think about. "I love you too, (Y/N)."

Lena loved you with every fiber in her being and that was a matter of fact. There was no easy way for her to deal with all the attention you sometimes received. She didn't want to make you invisible to the world, as that would mean depriving it from your beauty and kindness, but she did want for it to know you were, somehow, off limits. If someone else wanted you, they would have to go through her first.

So, after your little vacation, Lena put her mind to work, to design a device that could be able to repel the people around you, particularly those who tried to make unsolicited advances on you. She knew it wasn't exactly a good idea. She wasn't sure you would agree to what she had in mind and she needed to talk to you about it, but she was already on the making.

It was almost a month before she could come up with a proper idea that was viable, practical, and with at least ninety percent changes of working. Unfortunately, she discovered this device wasn't something she could do by herself. But once she had it in her hands and was sure it was the thing to do, she didn't wait long to show it to you.

"Wait, are you serious?" You asked with raised eyebrows.

You had been in her office, seated in the couch and in conversation after lunch, when the conversation turned to the topic. When you had suggested Lena for an invisible cape, you had not expected her to actually pull it off or consider it as a real possibility.

"It's exactly an invisible cape but I'm sure it will do the work." Lena shrugged.

"But you have made, in fact, something to keep people away from me?" At that moment, you couldn't decide between being impressed or worried about it.

"Sort of. Also, I didn't make this one. I had to call someone to help me with it." She pulled a small black leathery box from the pocket of her coat, and you imagined it would be one of those nanotech devices she was very fond of lately. "Since I'm no goldsmith or jeweler, I had to leave it to the professionals."

Her words didn't make sense to you until she opened the tiny box, and even then your brain was slow trying to understand what was happening. The box held inside a silver ring with a small diamond at the center of it, accompanied by two other tiny diamonds at the sides of it, with an intricate design carved on the ring that made it look as if it was wrapped in vines.

"I know this wasn't in our plans yet, and it may seem a bit of an extreme measure from my part wanting to keep people away from you. But when people ask me, I want to tell them I'm yours." She took the ring out of the box and put it in front of you. "Will you do me the honor of calling you mine? (Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you marry me?"

"You're unbelievable, Lena Luthor." It took some time picking your jaw from the floor.

"Is that a yes?" Lena asked hopefully, she was getting nervous.

"Yes, it is. Yes!" You launched yourself towards her, wrapping your arms around her, almost falling from the couch.

#lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #lena x reader #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x female reader #fem reader #Female reader #fem!reader #call you mine #one shot #request #lena luthor x you

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scarletdawnxx-blog · 4 years ago

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Nightmares Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes Reader Insert.

AN: This one will be more of a short story with multiple chapters.

It started shortly after Bucky arrived at the compound upstate. You were asleep in bed when the screams pierced through the quite of the night. You shot up quickly tumbling out of bed as the sheets tangled at your feet. Grabbing the gun from your bed side table and rushing into the hall. It was quiet and dark, then you heard the screams again. They were coming from Bucky’s room. Creeping quietly towards his door, opening it slowly, gun at the ready as you looked over his room. He was laying on the floor. Bed made neatly except for the pillow he had beneath is head. He was tossing and turning, having a nightmare. You could feel the fear seeping off of him. Lowering your weapon and placing it on his dresser, you knelt down trying to wake him, instead you were met with a metal hand right around your throat.

“Bucky” you chocked out but realized he was still asleep. His hand an involuntary reflex. Your heart broke for this man. Taking as relaxing breath as you could you placed a hand gently on his cheek and allowed your power to flow from you to him. Taking his fear and pain and replacing it with a calm, safe feeling. Soon his hand released your neck and he stilled, falling into a deep peaceful sleep. You stared at him for a few moments. You knew the stories, of what he had done, or you should say what had been done to him, what he had been forced to do. Your fingers lightly traced the scars where his metal arm met flesh, sighing and picking yourself up off the floor, grabbing your weapon and making your way back to bed. You laid staring at the ceiling for a long time before you finally found sleep again.

The next morning you woke, feeling exhausted despite sleeping later than usual. That’s how it always was though. Opening yourself up and using your power was draining to say the least. When you were younger you had always found crowds of people exhausting, never really understanding why until one day, when working a shift in the E.R. You were stitching up a young child that fallen from a tree and had a nasty gash on their forehead. You could tell how scared they were, placing a reassuring hand on them and felt their fear moving up your arm as if you were physically pulling it from them, he was instantly calmed. You pulled your hand back quickly as if it had been burned. From that moment a switch had been flipped and you could feel EVERYTHING. It was overwhelming, you thought you were losing your mind. Like you were drowning and couldn’t get your head above water. A very long road later, and a few break downs learning about this ability you had, you joined the Avengers. Your powers had developed from being able to just take people’s feelings, to being able to manipulate them. You could calm, confuse, take pain away or cause it, and even make people trust you so much they would tell you their darkest secrets. Which came in handy with interrogations. You had learned to not have it on all the time. Allowing you to function somewhat normally around people. It was just so damn draining.

You groaned rolling out of bed, making your way to the bathroom, your throat dry and in desperate need of water. Turing the faucet on and filling your hands with water bringing it to your lips. You wiped your mouth and looked at yourself in the mirror. Dark circles under your eyes, hair a mess, and a very bruised throat. Bucky’s grip has been tighter than you thought. Your fingers traced over the bruises wincing slightly at the tenderness. Not having the energy to try and cover it with makeup, you crawled back into your bed and picked up your phone and sending a text to Nat, knowing she had a high necked tank top that you were hoping she would let you borrow.

Yeah, sure, everything good. She responded. You told her everything was fine but could she please drop it by your room.

A few moments later, a knock came at your door and Nat walked in, seeing you still laying in bed.

“Y/N, is there a reason we are hiding today” she asked coming over to sit on the edge of the bed. You sat up and took the shirt she offered. Her eyes widened when she saw your neck. “What...the....hell?”

“Sorry, I didn’t want the whole team seeing this,” you motioned to your neck. “Barnes was having a nightmare, he didn’t know what was happening. I calmed him down, didn’t know he had such a tight grip.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t crush your windpipe,” she said examining your neck. “If you need the day to recover, there isn’t much going on today. I’ll bring you something by to eat.” She placed a gentle hand on your knee and gave you a soft smile.

“Thanks, but I should get up and move around.”

“Alright, don’t push yourself though.” Nat got up and you nodded thanking her again for the shirt. Natasha had taken on the role of caretaker when you arrived at the compound. She was your closest friend and confidant.

You finally managed to get yourself presentable and made your way to the kitchen. Sam, Steve, and Bucky sitting around the table. You said a quite hello to them before pulling a cup for coffee down and rummaging through the cabinets for something to eat.

“How you settling in Buck?” Steve asked sipping from his own coffee mug.

“It’s been fine.” He said “First couple of nights were rough, last night seemed to be a turning point, best sleep I have had in a while.” You looked over at him from the corner of your eye. Trying to make it look like you weren’t paying attention. He did look more rested. A light coming back to his vibrant blue eyes. You tugged at the neck of the shirt Nat had given you, making sure it was fully adjusted still and hadn’t shifted to expose your discolored neck. Collecting your food and coffee you made your way towards the hall.

“Not joining us?” Sam asked seeing you go.

“Oh no, it’s ok. I don’t want to interrupt.” You said with a small smile, trying to sound pleasant and not utterly beaten.

“Stay, Bucky needs to get to know more of the team,” Steve said getting up and pulling out a chair for you. You took a deep breath and put a pleasant face on before turning and heading to the seat Steve had pulled out. “Y/N here has been a key addition to our take down of hydra.” Steve boasted making you blush as you sipped from your coffee. You could feel Bucky looking you over. He may no longer be under Hydra’s control but he was still a trained assassin and sharp shooter. Always being alert, considering everyone a threat at first. No wonder he was so uptight.

“Please, you guys go out and do the real work,” you said pushing your food around.

“So what do you do then?” Bucky asked leaning back in his chair crossing arms.

“Oh no, you gotta see it, shit is way cooler than a metal arm or super soldier serum,” Sam said and you just stared at him, like really, why does he have do that all the time.

“Don’t oversell me Sam,” you said with a slight warning tone. But he wouldn’t let up, so you placed your hand on his sending a jolt of pain up his arm.

“Damn, I meant for you to do that to him,” Sam groaned as he pulled his arm away quickly. You just sipped your drink again, and couldn’t help but feeling a little smug, you loved Sam but sometimes he just wouldn’t shut up.

“So you can cause pain?” Bucky asked amused.

“Kind of,” you said with a shrug.

“She can control emotions and brain waves. Its impressive to watch her work.” Steve added giving more and an explanation. “Speaking of which, I think Stark is inbound with a Hydra agent today. You’ll get to see Y/N in action.”

“When did this happen?” You asked, Nat had said there would be nothing today. You already felt drained from the night before.

“Early hours of the morning, I thought you knew, I saw you heading back to your room shortly after the intel came through.” Steve said, getting up and gathering his dishes.

“Uh, No, couldn’t sleep and I had just gone for a walk,” You lied gathering up your things and putting them in their proper places, Stark liked everything in the compound to always stay tidy.

You started to make your way to your room, when you felt someone walking up behind you.

“Why were you in my room last night?” Shit. Bucky.

“I wasn’t,” you said continuing on.

“Your scent was lingering when I woke up this morning,” He whispered in your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

“Really, I don’t know what you are talking about, and I don’t have a scent,” You fired back feeling a little offended. He chuckled at your annoyance.

“Sure doll, whatever you say,” he said leaving you at your door cursing yourself. Next time he can just lay on the floor and scream, you thought to yourself knowing deep down you wouldn’t let that happen.

Entering your room you put you head phones on and started your interrogation playlist to get you in the right mind set. Closing your eyes and losing yourself in the music. You must have fallen asleep because you were rudely awakened with Stark tossing a file on to you.

“What the hell Tony” you said sitting up quickly ripening the headphones off.

“No time for napping, you’re up kid” Tony said walking out and giving no explanation for his behavior. Typical Stark. You picked up the file and started to go over the intel as you walked to the interrogation room. You had all kinds brought into you, but this one was different. A higher up from deep with in Russian Hydra, the same cell that had created the Winter Soldier program. You felt anger swell in you, hot and red, thinking that these were the people who had tortured and brainwashed Bucky. The man in the room just down the hall from you that now screamed from the memories turned nightmares and couldn’t even stand to sleep in a normal bed. You were going to have fun with this one. This one would know Bucky’s pain and fear. It still clung to you from the night before, ripe and ready to use against him.

“You brought me a good one to play with today,” You said looking in to the interrogation room through the two-way window. Tony, Steve, and Bucky also looked in. Nat was in there warming him up, playing the good cop. That was usually your go to, make them feel safe and comfortable, and their secrets spill from their lips, but today, today you would be their worst nightmare.

“I don’t like that tone Y/N,” Steve said side eyeing you. You just kept staring ahead at the man in the room. He was large, muscular, he had seen his fair share of fights you could tell. Even from where you stood his arrogance seeping off of him and it disgusted you. He wasn’t scared or worried at all. Like he wanted to be caught, and you didn’t like that. You looked over at Bucky, gaging his response. Outwardly he was stoic, but you could feel his uneasiness, anger, fear. Pressing the intercom to tell Nat to come on out you made your way to the door, lightly brushing your fingers against Bucky’s hand, giving him a sense of calm before entering the room. You calmly placed the file on the table in front of you and took a seat.

“Send the red head back in, she at least looked like she knew what she was doing,” The man said in a thick Russian accent.

“Не суди книгу по обложке” (Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.) you responded catching him off guard with your Russian. Good.

“You think because you know a little Russian I’ll open up to you,” he scoffed.

“Not at all, I am curious though, how someone so high ranking could get taken so easily,” you said coolly opening his file. “You come from a long line of Hydra thugs, but your predecessors were much more impressive than you. Other than being brute muscle, what good have you really been to them,” He was getting angry and defensive, no matter how much training someone has, ego always gets in the way. “Maybe Hydra doesn’t have a use for you anymore, I’m guessing even for your high rank you don’t really know what’s going on. A curtesy rank and title, for your families long service.” You picked at his pride more, it was always the downfall of men like these. He however just sat in his smugness. Which you were very over. Your powers usually required you to be touching the other person, but sitting across from this real POS in front of you, your powers began to leak out from you, moving like long tendrils from you to the man across from you, worming their way into him. You could see the change in his eyes. You never broke eye contact with him. “We could let you go I guess, turn you over to the authorities, since you aren’t going to have anything useful for us.” You picked the file up and stood.

“Wait,” he said, and you smiled to yourself. People can only handle so much fear before their fight or flight kicks in and the amount you were feeding to his man would make even the hardest criminals wet themselves.

“Did you have something you wanted to share?” you asked sitting on the edge of the table you were both sitting at.

“Yeah, go fuck yourself,” he said before launching himself at you, fight is then just like you had hoped it would. You dodge him easily using his momentum against him, you sent him sailing into the wall. You heard a crack, probably his nose, followed by pain. It was nothing compared to what you were about to unleash on him. His own fear now mingling with what you had forced on him was almost intoxicating. He turned and swung wildly, you grabbed his arm and easily got him to the floors, straddling him you grabbed his face and sent waves of pain into him, his screams echoing off the walls filling the room in terror and he clawed at your arms trying to pull your hands off him. You pushed everything Bucky had felt under their years of torture into him, and then multiplied it. You had never felt this strong in your power before, melting this man’s mind into madness. Your nails dug into his skin causing small halfmoon cuts that began to bleed. It wasn’t to long before he was a broken whimpering mess under you. He had even actually wet himself, you really hated it when they did that. You stood looking in disgust at the man on the floor. Your adrenaline leaving you and looking up. Bucky standing in the doorway, Steve behind him with shocked looks on their faces, not realizing Bucky had burst through the door thinking you were in danger.

“He’s all yours,” you said beginning to sway from exhaustion. Everything started to go black, and the last thing you remember were strong arms catching you as your legs gave out.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel #the avengers #steve rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #y/n #reader #reader insert

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willownoir1112 · 4 years ago

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Hello beautiful people of Tumblr! Wyn here with day one of White Rose Week 2021 to break my silence! I hope everyone enjoys, and I'll see you tomorrow with day 2!

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Love Bites

Summer Rose vanished, and Ruby suffered.

All her life, all Ruby has ever wanted was to belong. She tries so hard to fit in, first with her older sister's friends. But, they all told her to go away. That she's a baby compared to them. "Why would I want to bring you too?" Yang would always declare. "You're still just a baby!" Her friends would laugh with her, call her names as well, and leave her behind just like Yang did.

Her sister's words hurt her, and destroyed any chance of them having a sisterly relationship.

She tried so hard to be a good daughter. But, her father spent more of his time worrying about his troops, his responsibilities, his duties to Goddess and Country. "One day you will understand, Ruby." He would always tell her. "One day, you'll have to make the same sacrifices for a family of your own." His words never changed, nor his actions. He would be gone constantly, leaving her and Yang alone for weeks or even months at a time, meaning she had to grow up far too quickly.

Her father's priorities hurt her and robbed her of her childhood.

She tried so hard to be a good student. But, subjects like english, history, anything really to do with reading simply didn't make sense to her. She could stare at the page of a book for hours and all she could see is a jumble of letters. Everyone called her simple, stupid, a waste of time. "Oh look, it's little Stupid Ruby!" Cardin Winchester would declare every day at school. He and his cronies would torment and belittle her, and once even cut her long hair off. She suffered in silence, her arms the only evidence of her inner pain. Arms she always kept covered even in the worst heat of summer.

Her peers hurt her with their words, with their actions, and made her withdraw further into herself.

She finally stopped being a good sibling. She shut her sister out of her life first, Yang never noticing that Ruby stayed closeted in her room constantly. She was the bright shiny sun of everyone else's lives, with her outgoing and boisterous personality. Everyone's but Ruby's. If Yang is the bright sun, then Ruby has become the darkest moon of the family, and she likes it that way now.

She finally stopped being a good daughter. She did her chores without complaint and without needing to be told, save late at night when her father would already be in bed or Yang too preoccupied with her latest significant other. He never noticed that his younger daughter dresses in nothing but blacks and reds, or that she never let her hair grow back longer than above her shoulders. The career he chose to continue to support his family had a long ago casualty, and Ruby keeps it that way.

She finally stopped being a good student. She kept going to school, despite all but failing in everything. She went through the motions, ignored everyone when they called her things like Queen of Darkness or Salem's heir, or even worse. She ignored the shoves, the bullying, everything done to her until they all finally grew bored of it and her. She was finally left alone to sit in the deepest corner of all her classes, doodling to pass the time until she could return to her room and her solitude.

But then Ms. Peach, the choir director, invited the secretly shy and lonely girl to her class one day and encouraged her to sing. From the moment she heard the piano play, her soul became exultant, and her voice rose in response. Even Principle Ozpin, who was walking by at that moment stopped and listened as the shy, moody, rather dark girl who kept to herself was in possession of a voice that could bring even him to tears. Peach was enthusiastic in teaching her how to read music, how to project her voice, how to truly appreciate her hidden talent for music.

But, Taiyang finally noticed when he was forced to retire. He noticed the true state of his family, and decided to take firm control. He destroyed her growing dreams when he declared she and Yang both were to join Beacon Military Academy to finish school. That they needed discipline and not freedom to thrive like he once did. That neither of his children will follow in his long disappeared wife's footsteps, and lack the discipline needed to succeed where she obviously failed.

He was furious when Glynda Goodwitch admitted her as Ruby, allowing her to keep that one small bit of freedom.

She suffered like never before at Beacon. She was admitted two years early as a favor to her father, and she hated it. Her hate translated itself into her becoming a powerful fighter with her chosen weapon, a red and black fifty caliber sniper scythe she named Crescent Rose, and soon where she was once either dereided or ignored, she was now feared. Even her own sister fears her now, and that makes her happy.

She is the Darkest Reaper of Vale, and she hates them all.

But one person did not fear her. One person saw past her pain, her grief for her denied life. Weiss was from Atlas, a mysterious, inclusive land far to the north, where they say even the Grimm do not tread. A land of dark magic, of creatures even fouler than the enemy of the world. A land even the demiurge Salem has forsaken. Weiss did not fear the Darkest Reaper, and took an odd delight in hearing the whispers about her, about them both.

She has her own secrets, secrets Ruby will know all too soon.

She cannot help but to feel an attraction to the white haired girl from the north. Her porcelain skin is always smooth and cool to the touch. Her brilliant blue eyes are like the clear blue skies she would once sit under with her long departed mother while they laugh and imagine whimsical beasts and imaginary places. Her long white hair moves like the finest of silk curtains as she walks from class to class, her nose turned up to their peers as if they are all beneath her. All except for her. She treats the Reaper with respect, with courtesy, and after a time, holds out a hand of friendship to her, one she takes willingly.

She finally has a friend, a real friend. Someone who cares for her, Ruby Rose.

But certain things stand out to her as well. The way she barely eats anything but meat, and even then almost bloody and nearly raw. The way she approaches every mock battle with the cunning of a predator on the hunt. The skill with which she wields her rapier, a dust revolver styled weapon she has named Myrtenaster, with near lethal intent even during the simplest of spars against anyone willing to challenge her. She is the only one who can stand against her, her own formidable rage and loathing a match for the heiress's feral cunning and ferocity.

But one late night, during a restless night they both secretly shared, a truth is told, and their lives are changed forever.

She herself couldn't sleep. It was the one thing she could always count on being able to do. It was her refuge from the reality of her world, and she retreated to it every chance she could. But tonight, she tosses and turns, she begs and pleads with the treacherous brain that won't stop thinking, and finally surrenders and gets dressed. Taking up her scythe, she easily steals away into the Emerald Forest, the guards ignoring her out of fear. She runs deeply into the darkened woods, no fear for the Grimm that hide in the shadows as well as whatever other creatures may dwell within.

She never realizes that a pair of blue eyes follow her, belonging to the single person who doesn't fear her. The only person who is beginning to secretly adore her.

She finally stops near the old temple to the Brother of Light, which has been long abandoned when he left Remnant to it's fate. Sitting down, she begins to cry deep tears of pain and sorrow. She hates her life now, she hates being taught to kill, to end the lives of others. She despises the fact that she is good at it. She never wanted this. All she ever wanted was to be a good sibling, a good daughter, a good student. All she ever wanted was to belong, to love a certain white haired girl and be loved in return.

She almost screams in terror when the great white furred head lays in her lap, with sad blue eyes that reflect her pain.

She stares at the great beast, marveling at the fact that a wolf has appeared here. One of the few things she has managed to remember from her poor studies is that the Grimm killed all the wolves when they first came to Vale. None were spared, and somehow she knows this one knows that. To her surprise, she begins to pet the wild creature, smiling softly at the way it's tail begins to wag as it whines. And then she begins to talk to it. She talks about her mother, her father, her sister, her life. She is soon sobbing in grief at the sadness of her life thus far, and is surprised to see tears in the white wolf's eyes as well.

But she forgot that sorrow is a feast for the Grimm, and they soon gather around her and the white wolf both.

She makes her decision. She throws her scythe to the ground and gives in completely to her sorrow. She is so tired. She is so tired of being turned into someone she wants nothing to do with. She's so tired of hoping people will finally love her instead of hate her or fear her. She is so tired of dreaming of a pair of blue eyes that will never look lovingly at her. She is ready, and the Grimm will feed well on her. But she doesn't expect the snarling, the sudden sounds of battle. Opening her silver eyes, they widen as she sees the once four legged wolf has vanished, a naked Weiss snarling in her rage as she wields Myrtenaster against the foul creatures.

"YOU KILLED THEM ALL!"

She stares at the rage filled young woman. She's never seen her fight with this much savagery, this much hate. Even in battles in which she is outclassed or outnumbered, she is still controlled. She uses superior tactics, the icy calm she is infamous for, and her obviously hidden rage to still rip victory from the jaws of defeat.

"ALL THE PACKS OF VALE ARE DEAD!"

She picks Crescent Rose back up. The white haired girl is beginning to frighten her, and she does not frighten easily. She watches in growing terror as an Alpha Beowolf appears, howling in challenge, Weiss's answering howl frightening her to her very soul. She watches as the white haired woman tosses her sword to the side and begins to growl as she grows. She listens to the popping of bone and sinew as fur begins to spring from her bare skin. She stares on in horror as the one friend she has ever made turns into…

A werewolf. A creature from Remnant's darkest stories has come to life before her, and is defending her while taking vengeance for the long dead wolves of Vale.

"You will not hurt my Ruby…"

She screams as Weiss leaps towards the Alpha, her fangs bared and her still hand shaped front paws slashing at the creature of darkness. The Alpha charges her as well, it's own jaws wide open to bite and tear at the white werewolf, it's own claws slashing at her unarmored and exposed flanks. She hears her friend's scream of pain as the Alpha strikes harder than she can, and causes more damage than she can possibly manage in return, and she finally leaps into action. Weiss is the first person to be her friend. She is the first person to treat her like a person. She is the first person she's allowed herself to start having feelings for in her short life.

She may be ready to die, but she will not let Weiss die for her own selfish desires.

Crescent Rose strikes the Beowolf quickly, breaking the Alpha and the werewolf apart as the Grimm leaps back to avoid the deathblow Ruby aims at it. But Ruby is enraged now. She sees the bright red blood upon the moonlit ground, and it adds to her fury. She hears the whimpers of the injured wolf, and it increases her rage. She roars in her righteous anger as her scythe becomes a blur, the Alpha soon howling in pain before Ruby's final blow comes in her scythe hooking around its neck before she pulls the trigger, decapitating the beast with one final roar of triumph. It takes her a moment to calm herself, a long moment in which she has forgotten her anger, her sorrow, her self loathing. And then she finally remembers Weiss. In a panic, she begins to look for her friend, desperate to ensure that she is safe.

It doesn't take her long to find her, and her scream of anguish can be heard back at Beacon.

Weiss has managed to get back to a small cave, her clothes as well as some supplies stacked neatly in the back. She herself is panting heavily as blood flows steadily from her injuries. But her tail thumps on the ground weakly as Ruby slides to the ground in front of her. She doesn't hesitate, but begins to treat the slashing wounds, bandaging them carefully while doing her best to ignore the pain filled shrieks from the badly injured werewolf.

"Oh Goddesses, I'm so sorry, Weiss. I'm so so sorry!" Is her litany as she keeps at her work, until the blood finally stops. Until the white wolf goes silent save for her panting.

The sun rises, then sets once more, but Ruby has yet to leave the white werewolf's side. Weiss has slept the entire time, but she has stayed awake. She is too scared to close her eyes, terrified that if she relaxes her vigil for even a moment, she will lose the most important person in her life. But her body's needs will not be denied, and she finally falls asleep, the large canine head still in her lap and her grip firm on Crescent Rose's handle.

She dreams of white fur and sky blue eyes. Of days spent watching the skies and laughing. Of feeling loved once more, and being confident in being able to return that love.

She moans as she feels the urgency of the lips on her own. Of the feeling of cold skin upon her own now bare skin. Of cold hands exploring her body and her own hands wandering across smooth, uninjured skin in return. She moans in longing as lips caress her skin with feather light kisses. As her own fingers discover places on the other willing body that bring moans of pleasure from a voice she has come to adore since beginning at Beacon.

But she moans loudly as teeth sink into her collarbone, a tender, almost loving bite from the woman she knows she loves deeply.

"Ruby…" Her voice is husky as she releases the love bite, full of longing and need. She can feel a certain heat against her leg that is foreign to the cold that the rest of her skin belies. She herself feels so hot, so needed. She has never felt like this before, and she wants more. She needs more. But her eyes widen as she catches her lover's hands as they grab at the hem of her panties, her face full of fear once more.

"Weiss… I…"

"I know, Ruby." Weiss smiles softly at the Reaper. "I know what you are. But I have wanted you for months now. Since I saw your strength for myself. Since I got to know the real you, and not your mask of anger and self loathing that you hide behind."

"Weiss…"

"Ruby, I am the last of my pack." The werewolf informs her sadly. "I came to Vale seeking the packs that once roamed here, hoping to join them and be safe." She sighs sadly, her blue eyes dimming. "I am beginning to fear I am the last of my kind."

She sits up and pulls the werewolf into her arms. She knows all the signs of sorrow, being well acquainted with them herself. "I… Weiss I'm damaged. Why would you want someone like me?"

Their eyes meet, quicksilver staring into sky blue. "Because I have been alone since I was a child. But you make me feel like I am home now." She cuddles deeper into the Reaper's arms. "I feel safe with you, and I know I can trust you with my secret."

Ruby takes a moment to think, to gather her thoughts while considering everything she has been told. But her thoughts always return to a pair of sky blue eyes she loves to look into. Coming to a decision, she lifts the werewolf's face by her chin with a single finger and kisses her deeply, while her free hand pulls her even closer.

This may be a mistake, but it is going to be the best one she ever makes.

The cavern is soon filled with their moans, their cries of pleasure, their whispered words of love, their need for one another. Their lovemaking is tender at times, frenzied at others, and intense throughout. Morning found them once again asleep, this time in each other's arms and in a tangle of limbs, a part of Ruby still inside the white werewolf, who smiles as she sleeps deeply. They wake upon that glorious morning and decide that Beacon has nothing left for them, and decide to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Someplace where no one knows either of them.

Someplace where their future children can grow up safely…

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Weiss declares her love for her, and for the werewolf, she will throw everything away for a future with her...

Ruby opens one silver eye, smiling at the blue eyed pup staring back at her eagerly as she whines. Sitting up, she yawns as she stretches, her mouth opening wide as her fangs gleam in the light of the morning sunlight. Bowing her head down low, she nuzzles the white haired silver eyed pup tenderly before the two of them leave the comforts of the small, modest home she and Weiss have built together. It has been a decade since she and the white werewolf left Vale far behind and traveled to Mistral. To their surprise, as they explored the deepest parts of the wilds of Anima, they encountered a village full of others like Weiss, led by a lioness named Pyrrha Nikos and her own mate, a human woman named Nora.

She had heard of Pyrrha, who had been reported killed in a massive battle at Haven Academy. A report fabricated by the woman herself so she too could escape with her own mate and their hard won freedom...

They had met so many others, who had fled the destruction of their own packs and prides, their own groups and hutches. They met Velvet, who was a kind and gentle soul of a wererabbit and her mate Coco, who was the heiress of Mistral's largest corporation and their secret benefactor. They met Blake, a panther who loves to read, and her chameleon mate Ilia. There had even been a tearful reunion between Weiss and her older sister Winter, who had also barely survived the destruction of their pack and had also fled. They even met a pair of birds who squabbled constantly, an overly violent Raven and her dusty, drunken Qrow of a brother.

But the biggest shock comes when they reach one small cabin in particular, where a lonely woman lives. A lonely woman long thought vanished by the young woman, but who in truth had been forced to leave by the man she thought loved her.

Ruby sobs as she rushes into her mother's arms, Summer Rose holding her tightly as she too weeps in joy. A mother and her daughter are reunited to their eternal joy, and Weiss cheers in her happiness for them both.

They talked late into the night, the white werewolf asleep in her mate's lap as mother and daughter catch themselves up on years of their lives. Summer is livid at how Ruby has been treated, how she has suffered for so long because of her absence. Ruby had been furious to discover that her mother had been driven off due to a twist of fate, as she had been bitten by another werewolf during a mission. She had been bitten to save her life, and had been punished for it.

Ruby made her own decision that same night, and smiled as her beloved sank her fangs into her skin in a love bite that would change her forever. She turned willingly, determined that Weiss, her sister, and her own mother will not be the last of their kind.

She quietly cheered her mother onward as she found the courage to move on with Raven, who adored her and treated her with kindness, respect, and love. She had happily held her baby sister when she was born two years later, Weiss still at her side and a smile on her own face to match the look of peace in her eyes. She and Weiss had themselves celebrated the birth of their twin pups a year later, naming them after both their mothers.

But the biggest surprise is still to come.

She still checks her scroll from time to time, she and Pyrrha both agreeing that they cannot remain ignorant of the outside world. There is still danger out there, both from the humans and faunus as well as the Grimm, and all while quietly offering safe haven to others like them, as well as their families. They as well as Raven and Nora are the defenders and leaders of their small community, and they take their responsibilities seriously. But Ruby had been surprised to find an email waiting for her one day, when she had travelled far to the south before turning it on, a feat she can accomplish with ease thanks to her semblance and now enhanced senses and superior stamina.

She never expected to hear from her sister ever again.

Downloading it, she returns to the village and her mate, asking her to read it for her. Weiss of course does so, having been the one who finally helped the Reaper figure out that she was not stupid like everyone in her life claimed, but struggled with severe dyslexia. She and Summer have been helping her learn to finally read and write, but it is a slow process, one she still finds herself getting frustrated with as well as embarrassed. Opening it, she soon stops to summon Summer, the two of them sobbing at the state of the brawler's life since they fled. Tai has placed his blame on his eldest for her disappearance, and she has suffered greatly for it. Her life is a disaster now, and she has already been in a failed marriage. She begs Ruby to at least reassure her that she is alive, that she is at least doing well, that her suffering is worth it if it means that the sister she long ignored is finally happy.

That they have traded places, and that her sister is finally whole in spirit and at peace.

Pyrrha does not hesitate to give her permission to bring Yang back. To allow them to reunite, so that she can see for herself that her wishes are indeed true, and that Ruby is happy and thriving. She goes and meets Yang at Mistral's airship port, where the two of them meet in a long overdue hug between sisters, and not the strangers they have been all their lives. They return together, where Yang is also overjoyed to be reunited with her own mother, Raven. Ruby herself nods in satisfaction that her sister is on her way to a peace of mind she now enjoys, and is grateful that she too settles into life in their village, calling it home as well.

Only she and Weiss bear witness to Winter sinking her fangs into Yang's flesh, the two of them falling in love in this place they too call home.

Summer and Luna play happily with the other children, who include their cousins and their aunt. They are gentle with their younger brother, and fiercely protective of their newborn sister. Ruby and Weiss have slowly become the leaders of their still growing safe haven, and lead both by excellent example as well as with hard learned wisdom and knowledge. They share a deep, beautiful commitment to one another that many envy, one forged in mutual understanding and undying love.

Weiss Schnee came into Ruby's life, and she has prospered...

#White Rose Week 2021 #white rose #ruby rose #weiss schnee #Day One #werewolf Weiss #Trans Ruby #here we go!

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msmarvelwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Vienna Waits

Summary: The reader has a hard time around the holidays because it brings up a lot of unhappy memories. Bucky knows trauma all too well and he’s always there to lend some Christmas cheer.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: mentions/flashbacks of assult, ptsd, 18+, swearing, but truly a fluff piece...

Word Count: 2.5k

Authors Note: Hi again! It’s ya girl, back at it again with the plot all to based on her own predicaments. Please read the warnings because the last thing I’d ever want to do is trigger anyone- but at it’s core I wrote this as an aid. Like My Girl, this was written to bring us together, because we are so much stronger that way! This is also my first submission to the Merry Hoemas Challange, so with that please enjoy! Sending love and light to all you beautiful holiday babies.

Thank you to @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes @pumpkin-and-pine and @starlightcrystalline for hosting this holiday challange!

It was, of course, the most wonderful time of year. Christmas Eve at the Avengers Compound.

The snow cascading from the dark sky acted as a sheet of white as you nervously sipped on your tea, checking the time once again. Your best friend was supposed to be back from his solo mission hours ago, and yet here you were, alone and completely overwhelmed.

He was always better at these things. Always knowing how to avoid the holiday slump with ease. Bucky was who you turned to when you needed a quick coping mechanism.

Christmas with the world's mightiest heroes had its perks for sure, but this was certainly not one of them. The joyous holiday music echoing through the Avenger hq living room was doing nothing to settle your nerves. In fact, quite the opposite. It lingered around you, pulling memories you buried deep down in the back of your mind.

“I really think it’s better if I just head home… It’s getting really bad out there and…”

His lips cut you off, lazily trailing down your neck as the taste of bile rose into your throat. He was just drunk, you thought. So were you. You had given him the wrong idea. If you just explained you didn't want him to touch you…

He would understand, you thought… You really did.

“Honey, I’m home” Bucky called, cackling to himself as he shook off the snow caked to his winter coat. His voice shot you back into the dimly lit living room you now resided.

You lunged from the recliner, spinning around the corner to find Bucky, hands full of gift bags and a candy cane dangling out of his mouth as a goofy grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Where the hell have you been?” You tried to sound angry, but he was just so damn cute.

“Okay, first of all, you're welcome.” He scoffed sarcastically, gesturing to the gift bags as he placed them on the floor. “And second, you're the one who sent me out in the middle of a snowstorm for last minute christmas presents… So, you get what you get.” He chuckled.

“No, no, I appreciate you- it… I appreciate it so much Buck.” You stumbled, though you didn't let the blush creep onto your cheeks before you spoke again, “You know how I get this time of year.” You sighed, crossing the room to help him with his bags of gifts. It wasn't lost on Bucky that the holiday season was difficult for a lot of the team, including yourself. Though he didn’t know everything about your past and how it brought you here, to the team, and one of the most ruthless fighters the Avengers had ever seen, he did know it was rough and dark and definitely off limits to talk about. Bucky didn't mind, however. As long as he had you by his side.

“Ya know, if you help me wrap these gifts there might be a Christmas movie marathon in your future.” He wiggled his brows causing you to laugh.

“That really sounds like a lose-lose on my end here, Buck.” you giggled.

“Are you by any chance at all into hot chocolate?” he bribed, though you would have caved regardless. Any time spent with Bucky was all you wanted for Christmas.

Once all the presents were wrapped, Bucky was true to his word, puttering into the kitchen, whipping up his famous hot chocolate recipe. Honestly, if the world knew the famous Winter Soldier was as jolly was he is, they probably wouldn't believe it. Something about Christmas just brought out the best in him.

“So,” You started as you sipped on your whip cream topped hot chocolate. “What is it about this holiday?” You pried, looking up at Bucky as he wiped a dollop of cream off the tip of your nose.

“I don’t really know. Getting my memories back after all that time, Christmas with my Ma and sisters was always so clear…” He paused, his eyes fixing themselves on the floor. “I guess it’s one of the only really decent memories I have.”

You only stared at Bucky for a moment as you let the words sink in. He never really spoke about his family and what, if anything he remembered. You never pushed him, thankful that he respected you the same. Though you had only been friends for a year now, those things just aren't privy to your relationship.

“You never told me that before.” You finally spoke, watching as his eyes met with yours.

“Yeah well, it’s hard to talk about sometimes. But… I don't know. I trust you, doll. More than anyone, I think. You kind of pull it outta’ me.” He sighed into that goofy smile you loved so much. You wanted to tell him that there was no one in this world that you trusted more, that you could and would be an open book for him, if that's what he wanted… But you supposed it went without saying. Instead, you rested you head on his shoulder, sinking back into the couch as you watched whatever sappy Christmas movie Bucky had picked out for you to watch.

It wasn't long before the compound started to buzz with disembodied voices and echoing footsteps. A team was getting back tonight, and soon the living room would be filled with your friends booming laughter.

You let your mind wander, tiptoeing into the darkest parts of your unconscious as the movie faded further and further away…

Your body shook, hard. You heard yourself plead, begging him to stop. Could feel the tears wet and hot as they rolled down your cheeks pooling onto your chest as he wiped them away. Such an act of kindness in such a nauseating scene. Your whole body ached with how hard you were trembling. So weak. You knew it, and now he did too-

Wanda was the first to round the corner, plopping herself down on the couch between you and Bucky, almost sitting right on your lap.

“Good evening!” She chimed, resting her head against your shoulder in a complete and utter disregard of yours and Bucky’s closeness. Wanda was always the best at diffusing tension you hadn't even realised was there. Though now, as she sat there, it was very apparent that's exactly what it was. However you were thankful for her halting your train of thought.

“Hello, darling.” Bucky chuckled as you wrapped your arms around her.

Tony rounded the corner next, snickering when he saw the three of you bundled up on the couch together. “Well, isn't that sweet. The trauma triplets are back together.”

“Dont hate us cause’ you ain’t us, Tony.” You sang, watching as he rolled his eyes and puttered off to his lab.

“So, any plans for this evening?” Wanda asked, grabbing your mug of hot chocolate without a second thought and taking a sip.

“This is kind of it. Most of the team is back home with their family.” You explained, looking behind Wanda's head to Bucky, “Do you have any plans with Stevie?” You asked.

“Nope.” He popped the P. “Just us tonight. Steve’s out on a solo mission until tomorrow morning.”

“About that… Nat is actually setting me up tonight. A double date, I think? So, it's just you guys tonight.” Wanda spoke sheepishly.

Bucky and you both gapped at her before you finally spoke, “Traitor.�� You glared while she only chuckled, shoving you playfully.

“You guys will get along just fine without me. Just don’t watch The Holiday until I’m back! You guys know that’s my favourite”

As the compound quieted down for the night, you and Bucky fell into your daily routine of comfortable silence. It was just like every other day, or at least that's what you tried to tell yourself as the end credits of another holiday movie started rolling onto the screen.

“So,” Bucky finally spoke, shifting in his seat to reach for something out of your eyeline. “It’s technically christmas now… And, I know we said no gifts, but I saw this and it was just so you. I had to pick it up.”

Your eyes landed on the small velvet box in his hands, your breath hitching in your throat for a moment as your brain forze. You could feel your body trembling as he held it out, waiting for a reaction, but all you could do was stare.

“Such a good little thing.” He finally spoke. Your eyes were so glazed over you couldn't quite tell where his voice was emulating from. You could hear his belt, feel his hands on either side of your face as he whispered in your ear. “Happy Christmas, baby.” He chided, dropping the small velvet box in your hands as he left the room.

You couldn't bear to touch it, whipping it across the room as it shattered open, the small diamond necklace rolling across the hardwood floor as it tumbled to the ground with a harsh crack. Your fingers burned where the rough velvet had been, and you remembered thinking you'd feel this way forever.

“Y/n?” Bucky spoke your name and it shocked you back to reality. You blinked at him, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at him. He looked absolutely terrified and it broke your heart. Absolutely tore you apart that you could ever be the reason for that face.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m so sorry, I was so far away there for a moment.” You reached out but before you could take the small box, his hands covered your own and he let his thumb stroke your skin, sending a shiver up your arms and all around your neck.

“You know I would never judge you, right?” He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “God knows you've never judged me. I’m here. Whatever it is, it’s not your fault.”

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. ‘Not your fault.’ Did he know? There was no possible way. You had Fury burn your physiatric evaluation from when you first started a year ago. No one knew. This was a fresh start, and there way no way that-

“I can see your mind turning, and I just want to assure you, we are good. Okay? You and me, that's easy. It’s always been that way. Whenever you're ready, if you ever want to talk… I’m here, alright? Always.” His voice melted over you like a warm bath, calming you as you met his gaze. There was a sweetness you haven't seen before. It was new and yet there was something familiar about it. Had he always looked at you that way? Surely you would have remembered as it sent butterflies to explode in your stomach.

He dropped the rectabled box in your hands and you finally felt the weight of it. Definitely heavier than a necklace, though you guess that wasn't really Bucky’s style anyways.

You slowly clicked the box open, your eyes falling on the small black object resting on the pillow inside.

“It’s a knife?” You spoke, just above a whisper as your hands traveled over the cool metal looking up at Bucky in surprise.

Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he explained. “Remember that mission a year back? I think it was one of our firsts.”

“Vienna.” You chimed, the memory coming back to you now.

“You stole my knife.” He laughed, shaking his head at the memory. “I remember, I had it in my hand, you ran out of ammo and in a flash it was in your hands. Those Hydra punks didn't see you coming. God, doll. That had to be the hottest-” He blushed, clearing his throat, “I mean, that was the coolest thing I've ever seen. Been trying to find you one like it ever since.”

“Oh, Buck.” You signed, gripping the knife in your hands and effortlessly flipping it through your fingers as it sparkled in the dim lighting.

“Do you like it?” He hummed.

“Like it? I absolutely love it… I feel like such an ass for not getting you anything.” You confessed, averting your eyes to the floor.

You flinched as Bucky’s cool metal fingers tipped your head up, and he tried not to notice, though the reaction wasn't lost on him. He really didn't know about your past, but trauma knew trauma.

“Darling, this…” He motioned to you, “This is all I need for Christmas.” His voice was like honey in tea, warm and sweet and so smooth.

“You flirt.” You giggled, shoving him playfully as you placed the knife back in its box and resting it on the coffee table.

“I would never.” He sarcastically gasped, causing you to laugh at his dramatics. Bucky wasn't truly himself around the others, but you wished sometimes they could see his goofy side. Though it warmed your heart he reserved it for you.

“What do you say? One more movie before we call it a night?” You asked, relaxing into his shoulder as you clicked through the options. Bucky’s silence caught your attention, pulling you back to his gaze. He stared at you as if startled by your words.

“What?” You chuckled nervously, raising a brow when he didn't speak.

“You're willinging requesting we watch a Christmas movie? Are you feeling okay?” He jested, lifting his flesh palm to your forehead as if to check your temperature. You swatted him away, rolling your eyes as you did so.

“I’m fine. I just…” You watch him carefully as his laughter faded and he focused on you. “I never really thought I could enjoy Christmas. Someone stole that luxury away from me a very long time ago, but with you… With you it comes so easy. I know it must be hard, but you never let it show. I honestly can't tell you the last time I’ve properly laughed like that during the holidays. God, it's been years and yet here we are. You just pull it out of me.”

Bucky smiled softly, holding his hands out for yours and you quickly accepted the gesture. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned pulling you into his chest as he hugged you. It was something that was very new, and yet just felt right. Like this was how your bodies were meant to be, fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Doll, I’ll pull it out for you whenever you want.” He cooed, sarcasm lacing his words and your head fell back, laughter bubbling out of your chest.

“God, I love you.” You finally got out, but as soon as the words left your lips you knew how impulsive you had been. Bucky stilled beside you but you kept your eyes trained on the ceiling above, terrified to meet his gaze. It wasn't a big deal, just two friends admiring each other. You knew, however if you were honest it was much more than that. Bucky felt it too.

“Darling,” He murmured, so low you almost didn’t hear him. Your eyes slowly returned to his as your heart nearly jumped from your chest. “You’ve had me wrapped around your finger since Vienna. You’re it for me. Always have been, I think.”

You stared at him for a moment, unsure of where your voice went as your mouth ran dry.

“As if I even need to say it, I love you too.”

Divider made by the wonderful @chrissquares

Thank you 3000 to my amazing friends @cutie1365 and @sweeterthanthis for their endless support and constant grammatical corrections. I’d be forever dyslexic without you guys... (I kind of will I think, but ya’ll make it a hell of a lot easier on me)

Taglist:

@sweeterthanthis@cutie1365 @whateveriwant @drabblewithfrannybarnes @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @pumpkin-and-pine @starlightcrystalline @kalesrebellion @projectcampbell @calwitch @sycochick @sassy-pelican @mollygetssherlockcoffee @amateuratheart @officialmarvelbaby @a-really-bi-girl @fairislesheets

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes reader #bucky holiday challange #marvel holiday challange #merryhoemas #marvel fanfiction #msmarvelwrites #viennawaits #marvel fluff #bucky fluff #bucky angst

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not-poignant · 4 years ago

Note

hello! *peruses unasked flower asks* ummm, if you could give me a Canna, Cock’s Comb ehheeh, Common Boneset, Norwegian Angelica and Rosemallows please! :)

(Okay I love that little eheh at cock's comb tho)

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?

I do! A giant 'RESIST' in capital letters down the inside of my right wrist, that I actually got long before any actual 'resist' movements over the past few years. I got it around my 21st birthday (actually like a year later) mostly to mark all the things that I'd already survived at that point, and how much of my life philosophy is based off a position of resistance - resisting wanting to kill myself, resisting the darkest paths, resisting my own body when it grows tumours, and so on.

As it's aged, its lost some of it's sharp corners and stuff, but I still like it, though I mostly forget its there now. I'd like to get more tattoos at some point, but money is a big barrier, they're not cheap! (Which is good, because hopefully it means tattoo artists are being paid well).

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

I don't really know. I use Times New Roman the most while writing (I know, I know), so I guess that's my favourite because I'm voluntarily staring at it for hours and hours every single day. I hate Calibri and often have to force-change documents to another font to be able to edit them, if they come to me in that font. But I also used to write in Calibri, until I had the revelation that I hated writing in Calibri, lmao.

When I was a teenager, and had far less fonts to choose from, I was a passionate fan of Courier New and that's still my favourite font to set poetry in, which I think is an 'old habits die rather hard' thing, lmao.

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

I'm looking forward to thunderstorms, whenever they next come.

I'm looking forward to going down south with my mother, though I'm apprehensive about it too, and hope it goes well. I expect it will be exhausting, and an experience, and worthwhile. That's the end of July.

I'm looking forward to a week to myself and I'm not sure when I'll get one.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow (at least right now).

I'm looking forward to the next time we go to Kumo and have more of those Japanese souffle pancakes because souffle pancakes.

I'm looking forward to going to bed tonight.

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

I've always had...an interesting relationship with my mother. Though it's very good now. But there are lots of long stories I'm going to cut short here and say that around 11 or 12 years ago I was fed up, and sent Mum a lengthy email (because I couldn't trust I'd be able to speak clearly in person without breaking down and crying) saying that if she didn't get on board with acknowledging the PTSD and where it came from, and didn't confront her own demons in that, I was going to walk away from her and our relationship for good, and I already had my estranged relationship with my father to prove that I wasn't bluffing.

In retrospect, this probably sounds like an incredibly cruel thing to do, but I can't describe to you the years before that, my childhood, the things that led to me making this decision. Only that when I made it, I didn't know what else to do.

But then the most amazing thing happened, and unlike about anyone else in my family at the time, Mum got therapy, and she got help, and she faced her demons, and she decided that she was going to learn about her child instead of doing what she'd been doing in the past. And from there we grew a real relationship. And quite a few years ago now, we started catching up once a week, every (usually) Friday morning.

She's one of my best friends now, I love her to pieces, her bravery and courage in being willing to face up to some hard truths (including - among others - that my father and her husband was abusive), as well as her sheer strength recently going through breast cancer with such humour and grace only a short period after I went through my own cancer journey, like, she's such a role model to me.

I could never have expected that. I loved my Mum growing up, but I never felt like she knew or saw me as a person, which I don't actually blame her for, she sure was Going Through It herself, in a way that I could not appreciate fully as a child, because she protected us from those realities that she experienced and suffered through as best as she could. And now I think she really does try, as I try to meet her where she is in turn. And we see each other as people, not as family roles, and that to me...has an ineffable, lovely quality. Which is, incidentally, why I'm taking her down south for her birthday, so we can spend even more time together.

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

I don't know that I have one. Oh wait, I think...I do, so let's just preface this first though.

The problem I have here is that I've had a life full of depression and PTSD (no literally, my post-trauma started showing in early childhood), and both things can actually cause memory loss or poor memory coherence (unless the memories are traumatic! Do not recommend).

However, I have a glimpse of a memory between me, Glen and Putu, shortly before Putu was bound to leave for Melbourne (for good, he hasn't come back except to visit), where we spent the whole day together, except a break in the afternoon for me to sleep, because true facts - I cannot get through a day without sleeping for several hours in the afternoon.

There was something so golden and perfect about that day. I remember startlingly for me, sitting on the couch and tired and sore (we'd spent the day going to dim sum and then later walking around Kings Park) basking in a feeling I couldn't recall having felt before, and then I think I turned to Putu and Glen and said with some amazement, 'I think I feel content.' And Putu and Glen were like '...yeah...and?' and later I had to admit to Glen I'd never felt the feeling before. Golden and soft, like a cloud.

I think I've felt it once more since then, but I don't remember when. And I don't think I'd felt it before then, either. I would not wish my brain chemistry on anyone. But I'm very glad I got to share that moment with Putu, who is a very close member of my chosen family, for all that I don't get to see him very often anymore.

I can't strongly recall the feeling of the emotion itself. I remember describing it to myself in my head, in complete sentences, and those are the sentences I'm sharing to you now, because my verbal memory is much better than my emotional memory (I have quite serious alexithymia, which would surprise no one, but it's better than it used to be).

And I am relieved that my brain did actually hang onto the moment, mostly because I chanted to myself like a prayer: please don't forget this please don't forget this please don't forget this remember your position on the couch remember where Putu is sitting remember where Glen is sitting remember what you said and remember the time of day and remember what came before.

And, now, I do.

From the flower asks meme!

#asks and answers #memey goodness #personal #incidentally telling myself to snapshot a memory like that doesn't work #i remember words far better than feelings #and my memory formation is like #REALLY good in medical settings #and really not great if i'm just having a good time #though that being said i believe i've only felt contentment a handful of times #amazingly it's enough to mostly keep me going until the next time #it's just that 'the next time' has been a few years now #and i'm starting to think it won't happen again #but here's hoping it does #five lights on a very long string #are sometimes all it takes to keep you looking for the next one

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nbrook29 · 4 years ago

Note

152 for Sobbe, hope you're doing okay 💖💖

45 for Sobbe 💜💜

based on dialogue prompts

152. [text]: So I might be in a hospital right now…

45. “Don’t tempt me.”

💓 💓 💓

“Wow, you’re really useless today.”

Jens flips him off lifting himself gingerly from the pavement and kicking the skateboard in frustration as the boys laugh at his petulant expression.

“Come here then and try it yourself, smartass.”

Robbe raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, I wasn’t the one claiming to be the master of skateboarding! I’m just sitting here patiently waiting for the “master” to teach me his apparently superior skills,” he says cheekily to rile him up, the boys high-fiving him for the burn.

Jens just rolls his eyes and goes back to the bowl, switching to easier tricks for now. Moyo and Aaron join him shortly after realizing that the show’s over while Robbe hangs back for now, stretching his body on the bench contentedly and enjoying the breeze coming from the river doing wonders to his overheated body.

Antwerp has been experiencing a heatwave for the past 2 weeks and as much as Robbe loves summer weather, he’s kinda over being sweaty 24/7. His house doesn’t have air conditioning so the skatepark located next to the river is his favorite retreat in the evenings when the sun goes down. That and the heaven that is Sander’s deliciously cool room, kept at 17 degrees at all times thanks to the recently installed AC. Robbe enjoys it so much that Sander jokingly accused him of being with him only for this particular privilege. When Robbe didn’t deny, too occupied with moving his head left and right to catch the cold drift on his cheeks while standing directly under the device, Sander grabbed him and tickled him into submission until he was satisfied with Robbe’s wheezed out confessions of his undying love.

Good times.

Robbe is deep into thoughts wondering what kind of pizza they should order today and how to convince Sander to let him order one with pineapple on when his phone pings with a messenger notification.

Sander: So I might be in a hospital right now…

He sits up so fast he gets dizzy, his vision swimming for a few seconds while his mind is helpfully suggesting to him all the darkest scenarios of what may have happened. He doesn’t waste his time typing back, his hands way too shaky at this point anyway so he just picks Sander’s number and waits impatiently, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and trying to calm down his beating like crazy heart.

His boyfriend makes him wait for five unbearably long signals and Robbe swears he’s going to kick his ass for that.

...as soon as he makes sure he’s alright, and in one piece, and that everything is just fine.

“Hey.”

It’s just one short word but it makes Robbe breathe again. And maybe he’s overreacting because Sander texted him so obviously he’s well enough but he just can’t help it - Robbe’s heart belongs to him, it beats for him, so any sign he may be hurt just makes it stop or go crazy.

“Sander, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he must be looking a bit frantic because the boys take notice and skate closer to him to figure out what’s going on.

“I’d been better but I’m mostly fine. I-, umm, I might have been hit by a car?”

Robbe feels his knees buckle a little and he sits back down, taking in a few shaky breaths. “What?!”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t that bad, I just have some bruises and I’m sore-”

“Oh thank god.”

“-and I think I have a broken leg?”

“Shit, fuck, what? Where are you? Which hospital?”

The guys stand in a circle around him with worried faces.

“At Sint-Elisabeth. Are you gonna come?” his voice sounds so small Robbe’s heart breaks a little.

“Of course, I’m on my way, babe.”

He doesn’t waste much time on explanations, just briefly tells the boys what happened before running to the nearest bus station. It takes him agonizing 30 minutes to get to the right street and then another 5 to finally set his foot in the hospital building. A nurse directs him to the ER once he explains the situation and then he’s in a room full of just brought in there patients. Each bed is separated with a screen and he finds Sander on the bed number 3.

His green eyes immediately find his and he smiles at him with relief. “Hey.”

Robbe looks all over his body to check for damage, takes in the small cut above his eyebrow, the bleached hair that is in total disarray, the t-shirt torn on his shoulder with edges stained with what looks like dried blood, the scrape on his forearm, and of course, the broken leg, covered with cast from foot to middle thigh.

He feels nauseous when he takes all that in, swallowing hard to calm down his stomach and not throw up all over the floor. Closing quickly the distance between them he drops into his arms, trying to me mindful of all his injuries.

“Shh, I’m okay,” Sander runs his hand back and forth on his back when he notices his unsteady breathing, whispering assurances in his ear. Once Robbe gets in under control, he presses a few kisses on his neck and then disentangles himself from his arms, resting his forehead on Sander’s. The boy hisses when Robbe accidently touches the cut above his eyebrow, smiling a little when Robbe apologizes profusely and kisses him to shut him up.

“So what happened?” Robbe asks, sitting appropriately on the bed and entwining their fingers because he just needs to feel him right now. Sander doesn’t comment on the way he basically clings to him, and Robbe knows he would be the same if the situation was reversed.

“I was walking through the crosswalk and the guy didn’t notice me soon enough. But he hadn’t been driving fast in the first place so I think that saved my ass.”

“Do you have a concussion? Is there anything wrong besides your leg?”

“No, I’m fine, they did the scan and it’s all clear.”

The corners of Robbe’s mouth twitch a little and normally he would make a joke but he’s not really in the mood to joke right now.

“Yes, okay, go on, I know what I said, “it’s all clear” meaning my head is a void with no brain,” Sander chuckles but when he sees the sad puppy eyes Robbe is giving him right now he gets serious and sighs. “I’m okay. Really. Just sore. And to be honest, glad it’s not my right hand that’s broken. Can you imagine?”

“I can imagine worse than that actually, you could’ve...”

Sander tsks and shakes his head. “We’re not gonna do that, okay?”

When Robbe doesn’t say anything and just sits there with his eyes downcast and playing with Sander’s fingers, he tips his chin with his left hand.

“Okay?”

He finally nods, unconvinced, his treacherous mind full with what ifs. The whole situation is making him feel vulnerable and he just can’t shake it off like that. And he knows Sander is trying to make him feel better, that he’s alive and breathing next to him but he needs the closeness now more than ever. So he toes off his shoes and not paying attention to anyone that may look at them lies down next to Sander on his uninjured arm curling himself around his side and burrows his face in the crook of his neck.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he mumbles while Sander pets his hair, the touch grounding him and providing much needed comfort. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Robin, shh, it’s okay, hey, it’s okay.”

He nods against his neck and works on calming himself down.

“Did you call your parents?” he asks after a minute.

“My mum is here, she went for coffee and to bring me some snacks. She should be back any minute now so she can drive you home.”

“You’re staying here?”

“Yeah, they want to keep me overnight. It’s a normal procedure though, so don’t worry.”

Robbe nods again and gives him a gentle squeeze.

“Oh hello darling.”

The voice of Sander’s mum makes him flush in embarrassment because he’s still glued to her injured son. He scrambles off the bed and straightens out his clothes making Sander chuckle but the woman only smiles at him and doesn’t comment at his state. She cups Sander’s cheek and asks him how he feels before turning to Robbe who still holds his hand.

“So, has he already told you I told him off because I had warned him once it’s going to happen?”

Robbe looks at her confused while Sander rolls his eyes behind her back.

“Yeah, I told him someone is gonna hit him with their car if he doesn’t wear something reflective on his dark clothes! But did he listen to me? No, of course not!” she shakes her head at Sander with disapproval, hands on her hips, ignoring his groans.

“Oh my god mom-”

“Don’t “mom” me, I’m not in the mood, my precious baby boy is hurt and I’m upset.”

Sander rarely blushes but when he does, Robbe feels an immense amount of satisfaction because usually he’s the one going on red in the face thanks to Sander himself. And Sander’s mom referring to him this way in Robbe’s presence never fails to make his cheeks pink in embarrassment. It does lift Robbe’s mood a little and he grins at him cheekily over her shoulder, Sander’s blush deepening even more.

“I actually fully agree with your mom.”

“What, you’re gonna stick reflective strips all over my wardrobe now?”

“Don’t tempt me. I’m actually seriously considering it. Ugh, you and your abundance of black clothes.”

Sander’s mom is very pleased with Robbe's support and she gives her son a triumphant smile.

“See? Listen to your boyfriend, baby. Also, I think you’ve just been outvoted.”

Sander looks at them bemused, a pout forming on his lips so Robbe leans down and catches them in a short kiss, still conscious of Sander’s mom standing right next to them.

It’s getting late so they need to go while Sander is transported to a different room for the night. He gets painkillers for the ache in his broken leg and it quickly makes him sleepy, his eyes fighting to stay open when they say goodbye. It’s difficult for Robbe to leave him out of his sight but he doesn’t really have a choice so he waits until Sander’s mom says her goodbyes, telling him she’s going to wait for him in the car before he kisses the life out of him, the boy falling asleep minutes later. He places the last kiss on his forehead as he watches Sander breath in and out evenly, his face scrunching a little in his sleep at the touch.

Then he quietly closes the door to his room, already preparing himself for the night full of nightmares.

#wtfock #car accident

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asscreeds · 5 years ago

Text

Heila - Chapter 2

(beautiful screenshot by @freyastrider!)

You start the long road to recovery, albeit shadowed and full of doubt. Promises are made.

TW Graphic descriptions of blood/treating & stitching wounds, mentions of dismemberment (not of the reader). Also some elements that could potentially trigger EDs; you can skip “She then grabbed the bowl of stew…” to “Valka shrugged on an overcoat” if you like. If I ever miss something, please let me know! Read on AO3 | Masterlist

What you could see in your blurred vision was both a worry and a comfort. You were in some sort of healer's place, though where you were exactly, you did not remember. Combing your memory for what happened the night before made your head ache, and you felt like your entire head was submerged in water. Laying on your side, you could feel the cooling presence of a soaked cloth on your forehead and smell the herbal scent of whatever balm had been applied to your wounds. At some point you had been bathed by the smell of soap on your skin. All at once, it was too much, and you took a rattling breath that made your entire body ache.

You were not the only one surprised to see you alive. From the corner of your blurred vision you saw movement - a woman, dressed in an assemblage of fine clothing, fur and bones, noticed your eyes opening and the change in your breathing. She approached you slowly, and spoke calmly.

"Hello, y/n," she said, and in your fever-addled state you thought she had the prettiest accent. "Can you hear me?" You tried to nod your head but the motion made your vision flicker & your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. A soft grumble emerged from the back of your throat at the sensation. The woman's brows furrowed, and she quickly turned away and began to make something. The clatter and clink of ceramics, even as gentle as they were, made you feel as though your head was splitting in two. A minute later, she returned with a cup of something herbal-smelling and warm. Tea.

"Please, drink this. It will help you," she said, gently lifting your shoulders so you could press your lips to the edge of the cup. Whatever tea it was it tasted like heaven and filled your belly with a warmth that spread across your body, collecting in your fingers. Even though you'd faced the darkest part of your life the night before, it still made you smile, and your vision slowly ebbed back. You could see much clearer now and found yourself examining the multitude of bone chimes, dried herbs & various other decorations in the strange woman's home. She gave a small chuckle upon seeing your smile. "I know you must be afraid, waking in a strange place," she paused, and your brain filled in the blank with 'after what you have been through.'

"But you do not have to be," she said, gently setting the cup down on the bedside table. "My name is Valka. I am the völva of the Raven Clan. Tell me, do you know where you are?" Remembering anything still hurt, but you had an idea of where you were. "England?"

"Yes, we are in England. A village named Ravensthorpe. Eivor told you, remember?" No, you did not remember. The last 24 hours or so of your life were a blur of sensation, already locked behind something in your mind to protect itself. Who is Eivor?

You had your answer readily enough. Another woman turned the corner, looking worse for wear, blonde hair falling out of a messy-side braid. Something in you stirred, you did recognize her, but… it felt off, in a way, as if you'd known her forever yet forgotten about her still, like some old childhood friend or a distant family member. She stood there awkwardly in the shadows for a moment, the large woman endearingly nervous & fidgeting with her hands while giving Valka a nod.

"Ah, there you are. Hello Eivor," the seeress said, greeting Eivor in her own way with a small bow and a friendly smile, though you could tell she immediately caught on to Eivor's nervousness. "Are you well?"

"Yes, Valka, I…" she began, and as you sat up on the bed a little to try and squint to see her better, her ocean blue eyes snapped to your form as if she'd completely forgotten about you, too. She paused for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose. "...I am well." A lie. Valka hummed, then turned back to you.

"You must rest for now, y/n. I will come back later to change your bandages," she said, feeling your forehead again and swapping the now slightly-warm strip of cloth for another cool one. Then she turned back to Eivor, gesturing towards the door on the far side of the hut, and the two left you to your fevered delirium on the bed. Your head swam with questions as you slowly remembered the ride to Ravensthorpe. Is Eivor okay? Did she find who she was looking for? Are my friends okay? What happened to the arrows in my back? Hmm, what was that tea that Valka made, it tasted good…

The soft embrace of sleep came quickly to you.

Eivor took too much shit. She was practically a doormat at this point.

Between that snake bitch Fulke turning on her and Basim at the last moment to sell her brother to King Alfred, then Eivor chasing her across what felt like the entire damn continent to try and get Sigurd back even after he'd insulted her and her late family in some sort of manic state rambling about being 'something greater' and only finding dead ends. Mortifyingly, one of those was a literal dead end; Sigurd's amputated arm. And of course there was Dag, who'd begun to refuse to sail with her on account of her 'not looking for their Jarl while she chases glory.' When she came back from Cent and dropped you off at Valka's hut he'd cornered her in the Longhouse, accusing her of 'bringing back the wrong person,' that she'd somehow forgotten about her brother, as if she had not spent the last six months searching. Dag would have to wait a little longer, just as Eivor would have to wait for another letter from Basim.

It was a miracle she had not unravelled, nor burst at the seams from the amount of stress rolling underneath her skin. She grew anxious, reading too far into the looks of Ravensthorpe's denizens, even the slightest downturned glance sending her into a state where she did not know if she wanted to take it out on destroying something, or cry, or both. Despite it all she was still kind. Your rescue had been enough to prove to herself that there was still something human in her. Now she just had to hope you would stay alive, and that the vikingr she gathered to free your kin would not think too lowly of her for even trying while Sigurd was still missing.

To be honest, after a fitful night of barely any sleep, she'd completely forgotten about you. She had gone to Valka for guidance, and for the seeress to give her a chamomile & lavender tincture for restful sleep, and was caught off guard when you roused, already awake and seemingly coherent. You were your own blessing and she'd been grateful to the Gods that you had not passed on overnight. Seeing you suffer at the hands of the Saxons last night had nearly broken something in her mind, especially after Fulke's bloody gift. She had to force herself to stay her hand and not go on a berserked rampage in the middle of the city. She has seen her fair share of blood, war and torture, but for them to take you, something so clearly small and defenseless, and leave you to die an unjust death, alone, left a cold feeling in her bones.

She took a deep breath of the chilly morning air to clear her mind once she and Valka left her hut, and the two of them walked to the small pond behind. Valka stayed quiet, and sat at the water's edge, motioning for Eivor to join her. The Wolf-Kissed did so, slowly, avoiding the seeress' gaze and stared into the clear waters of the pond, how the morning fog hung over it like a blanket of the fae.

Valka spoke first, looking towards Eivor with a soft expression. She could see the bags under her eyes even in the dim morning light. "Tell me, Eivor. What troubles you? Is it in regards to your brother?"

Eivor continued to stare at the waters for a moment, contemplating on what to say. Yes, her brother's capture has troubled her greatly. How was she to convince the people of Ravensthorpe that she had not abandoned him, nor her quest of seeing him returned to his people? There was something else. Between her brother's ramblings of being 'something more,' Fulke's notes on him painting a vivid picture of his torture at her hands and that something was awakened within him, even just momentarily, and Basim's cryptic speech towards her for the entirity of it, she felt like she was… left out of something. Out of the loop. There was some connection between all of them that she could not see, nor comprehend. For now, anyway. And between her strange dreams (or maybe memories, she was not sure, they felt so real ) of Asgard and Jötunheimr, and the vision of the wolf-dragon, the blizzard and Sigurd's lost arm (that she now scarcely remembers) when she drank the potion in Rygjafylke, she did not like the inkling of what she thought was the truth. She was not ready to face that part of her. Not yet.

Her speech was quiet, with the hoarse sound of sleep at the back of her throat. "Everything," was all she said. She looked at Valka with an unreadable face, though Valka could see the pain behind her eyes. The Seeress simply nodded in understanding, turning from Eivor to pick at reeds growing along the bank.

"I do not claim to know what is running through your mind, Eivor, but I do feel your pain. The Nornir work in strange ways. Not everything is presented in clear light, as I have told you before," she began, beginning to weave the plants together in a braid. "I understand that your continuous failure to find Sigurd has taken its toll on you. But I do not believe this is the end of your saga , though now it may feel otherwise. What is important is to keep moving forward so that you may find him. Cast away any worry you may have, of what others may think of you. It is your fate to find him. I know so." She finished the braid with a twist, then used another, thinner reed to tie it into a circle; a bracelet. A small, if fleeting, gift. She held it out to Eivor, who gently took it and held it in her palm, running her thumb over the texture of the braid.

"I do not believe the betrayal of your brother lies here, while you strengthen Ravensthorpe and make alliances with the people of England. You are doing what you must for your people. To keep them safe, and fed, though some may not recognize your efforts."

The pair fell silent then, and the sun rose higher into the sky, warming their backs. Eventually, Valka rose. "I should change y/n's dressings." Eivor stayed there for a while longer, still fidgeting with the bracelet in her hand. Mulling over Valka's words, she found it difficult not to ruminate; if this was not her betrayal to Sigurd, what was? Would it be even worse than failing to save him from torture?

Her thoughts were cut off by a long wailing sound coming from Valka's hut. Immediately, she rushed to the Seeress and you, her body seemingly moving without a mind. The reed-bracelet dangled from her left wrist.

The sight that greeted her was not pretty. In removing your dressings, the lacerations along your back had become greatly irritated and were oozing fresh blood all over one of poor Valka's cots. You shook from the pain, seizing up as if struck by lightning when Valka removed the last strip of cloth. Eivor must have made a shocked sound, as Valka swung her head around to look at her with a pleading look.

"Please, Eivor. Her wounds are too dire now that I may see them clearly, they are too large and must be sutured. Help me to restrain her," she pleaded, setting the strips in a pot of water to be boiled later and milling about, searching for her iron sewing needle and the catgut thread given to her by Yanli.

Eivor moved to your side, where you were huffing like an injured animal (you sure felt like one) on your belly, eyes unfocused and unmoving. Gently, she brushed your hair up and out of your face and out of the way of your back, and moved to put a portion of her weight on the cot, her thigh resting against the back of your legs and on a portion of your forearms. Too delirious to react, you could only stare forward.

Valka returned quickly. "The arrow-wounds are older, and have been untreated for some time. I removed the heads last night and have drawn out the infection as best I could but I am afraid that they were too close to her spine and have already caused damage. I do not think she will ever truly recover," she said, grabbing a cloth to gently wipe away the blood that had seeped down the length and sides of your back, setting it down on the bedside table. Eivor felt dazed, seeing so much of your blood soaked up by the cloth, even though she'd seen - and lost - much of it before. Despite Valka's words she hoped that you would recover; despite being a complete stranger, your death would do a number on her mind.

When the needle pierced your flesh, you let out another strained wailing noise, and Valka pulled back as if she'd been burned. She grabbed a jar of some cool-smelling salve off of a shelf and quickly rubbed it into the sides of the first laceration. It was completely alien to you, at first burning hot in a way that made you nearly break your teeth clenching them and then tapering off to a much cooler, nicer, numbed feeling. Your mouth hung open as you took rapid breaths, drooling onto the furs and squeezing your eyes shut.

Valka quickly yet expertly sewed your flesh together, trying to make the experience as painless and as brief as possible for you, though there was only so much she could do. You'd black out at some points, began shaking again at others, and even with the cooling burn of the balm you could still feel the pierce and pull of the needle stitching you together. All the while Eivor kept a firm, grounding presence, the weight of her at your backside preventing you from squirming and injuring yourself further during the process.

After what felt like an eternity, Valka was finished, and she stood back for a moment to wipe at sweat on her brow. The brand new spool of catgut had almost been used up completely. You'd passed out completely by now, your body too fatigued to endure the last five or so minutes. Eivor had checked your wrist for your pulse again, and felt somehow even more relieved than the last time. She and Valka shared a weary look.

"Will she be alright?"

"I will give her new dressings, and change them each hour as needed… but it is now out of my control if she survives this battle. Her life is in the hands of the Nornir." Eivor looked down at your raw sutured flesh with a mixture of pity and frustration. Of course. Stay strong, little one.

Eivor hummed, and bid Valka farewell with a nod. As soon as she stepped into the cool spring air of Ravensthorpe, she felt something cold against her thighs and forearms. Looking down, she apparently did not realize the volume of your bloodloss, and there were small - yet very noticeable - stains in the cloth of her tunic and pants. There goes brand new tunic number thirty three. Sighing, she rinsed her hands and her fingernails of your blood in the pond, and made to go to her room in the longhouse to change. As she passed the curve of the building, she spotted Dag storming away from the shipyard towards her, a scowl on his face. Not wanting to deal with his disrespect, she speedwalked as inconspicuously as she could into the longhouse and promptly slammed the door to her room just as Dag entered the building. She felt like a teenager, running away from a responsibility and locking herself in her room, but she supposed that was a sacrifice she'd have to make if she wanted to relax.

She leaned back against the door, listening to the rustle of Dag's armor and footsteps grow closer, then disappear as he decided to leave her alone, and she let out a long, slow exhale, closing her eyes for a moment, just breathing.

When she opened her eyes she was greeted by a goofy grin from Mouse, the wolf she'd saved from starving in a cellar. As the settlement grew and seasons went by, she noticed she had a tendency to… collect animals. And people. You were an example. She gave Mouse a little smile.

"How's my boy?" she chuckled, the wolf nosing her palm, smelling your scent. She reached over with her other hand to scritch behind his ear, making the wolf tilt his head in a funny way to lean into it. She looked at the way the sunlight streamed in through the windows high on the wall, and realized she'd forgotten to feed him on time. Reaching into her bag she procured some dried meat, holding it out to the wolf. "Hungry?"

The wolf sniffed the meat, then oh-so-gently took it from Eivor's hand, as if he was afraid he would hurt her, and trotted off to eat it beside her bed. While he ate, Eivor rummaged through the trunk at the foot of her bed for a new, cleaner set of clothing, changing and throwing the bloodied tunic and pants in the designated 'do this later' corner.

Sitting down on the edge of her furs, she rubbed at her eyes and only then did she feel the true effects of last night's broken sleep. Yawning, she reached into her bag for the chamomile tincture, pouring two or three drops of the bitter-tasting liquid underneath her tongue before swallowing, then washed it down with the last bit of mead in her cup from last night. I hope Randvi will not think less of me for taking a day or two to rest.

Laying down and pulling the furs up to her chin with Mouse quickly climbing onto the bed beside her, she quickly fell asleep with the help of the tincture, though she would be plagued with yet another vivid dream.

She was in a clearing, surrounded by wood and bark and foliage, from what she could see lit by moonlight. The quiet drone of crickets filled the air, and no other sound could be heard. Then Eivor's gentle exhales echoed against the bough of every tree, and she willed herself to stop breathing, if only to stop hearing the quiet sound turn deafening within moments. The crickets quieted as her breathing stopped, and the forest was silent for what felt like an eternity. And then a long, baleful cry split the silence, and the once blue shades of the moonlight boughs took a red, bloody hue. Eivor moved towards the sound against her will and against her fear of the suddenness of it, still unbreathing.

A second cry rang out against the trees, and as Eivor progressed they began to look less like trees, and more like angular cut stone, and they blurred together in her periphery. The ridges of the bark began to glow and formed strange, unreadable glyphs. She was still not breathing.

A third and final cry was heard closer by, and a distant flock of cawing crows was startled by the sound, and Eivor could hear every single beat of their wings and their hearts. Finally she came upon another clearing, and found a fox ensnared by a trap, whimpering, red vibrant blood running down the creature's leg to form rivers in the soil. It looked to her with wild, slitted, pleading eyes. As Eivor reached into the jaws of the trap to disarm it, the fox cried out again and again and struggled until Eivor had finally broken the trap in half. Instead of being grateful like she expected, the fox clamped its jaws around her hand and pulled with a force that should not have belonged to such a small creature. Crying out in pain, Eivor cradled the hand to her chest, watching the blood curl around her fingers and drip onto the forest floor, and wherever it dripped bright patches of red moss grew. When she looked up again, she did not see a fox, but saw you, dressed in a sheer white gown with the same slitted, now guilty, eyes and a bloodied mouth. You opened your mouth to say something, but the only sound that came out was a pleased moan.

She awoke with a gasp.

The next morning came, and when you stirred you were greeted by the savory smell of stew. There was a constant dull, radiating pain coming from your back, and though you could not remember what happened clearly, you knew that your split skin had been stitched together. Blinking rapidly you tried to raise a hand to wipe at the sleep in your eyes and the simple motion caused a new wave of pain as the muscles in your shoulder screamed and you hissed, forcing your body to relax and rest your arm again. This would not be an easy thing to recover from, but you knew that you would adapt.

Valka took notice of your sound, and moved to stand by the bedside. "Good morning, y/n. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," you said with a hoarse voice, gently pushing yourself to lean more of your weight on your side than your stomach. The seeress pressed her palm to your forehead, and hummed, pleased. "Your fever has gone down a bit."

She then grabbed the bowl of stew on the side table and held it towards you. "Are you hungry?"

Your body answered the question, your stomach growling and mouth watering at the smell of the hearty stew. You'd forgotten that the last time you ate was four nights ago, and it'd been only stale bread and water. Maybe eating a savory, hot meal was not the best decision but right now you'd kill for it. You eagerly accepted the bowl and spoon held out for you using your slightly less painful arm. It was amazing , melting over your tongue and perfectly spiced, and as you expected far too much for your belly after being empty for four days. You took three spoonfuls before a wave of nausea hit you, and you had to set it back on the table.

Valka had turned away to make another numbing salve and let you eat in peace, then heard you set the bowl down. She did not look up from the mortar and pestle for a moment, but still acknowledged you. "Are you well?"

To be honest, no. "I will have to eat slowly," you said, sitting up slightly in the cot and fidgeting with your hands.

Valka, kind soul, was all-accommodating. "Would you like something simpler? Bread perhaps? Tarben bakes the best loaves, and I am sure he would enjoy a new patron," she said, sending you a gentle smile. Bread would be gentler on your stomach… you nodded, and settled back down in the cot for now.

Valka shrugged on an overcoat made of raven's feathers and thick bear fur, and bid you farewell with "I will return within a half hour," leaving you to blissful solitude in her hut.

With your fever quelled, you could think more clearly than before and remembered much more. The raid, Franklin's cowardice, being captured, being tortured… all in a few days, the life as you'd known it had been turned on its head, and here you were, half-dead in a town you didn't even know existed. All thanks to the mysterious woman that had saved you from a worse fate. And then your mind turned to Frederik, and despite being injured, your blood boiled with a new fury as you thought of all the ways you would confront and kill him for what he'd done not only to you but your clan as well. You could only hope that Gunnar, Vilmar and the rest of your friends were still alive.

Your furious thoughts were cut short when you heard footsteps from the entrance of the home, though they were not Valka's. Curious, you peeked around the corner to your ability, and were greeted by the figure of the giant Norse again. Eivor. She appeared rested, though worrisome, playing with the sleeves of her tunic. "Valka, are you here? I had another vision," she said, keeping her gaze to the floor… troubled by something.

You chose to speak up. "No, she left to get bread from Tarben." This startled the mighty drengr, and she almost comically jumped from the sound of your voice with wide eyes before forcing a much more stoic front, furrowing her brows. It almost made you giggle. Trying to spare herself from more embarrassment, she turned to leave. "Thank you."

"Wait!" you yelled out, a bit too loud and a bit too harsh, making you cough from your throat's sudden use after days of scarcely speaking above a whisper, and the action filled your ribs with fresh pain, making you wheeze. Eivor had stopped in the doorway, looking back at you with a puzzled and concerned expression. "Wait, I…" you began, clearing your throat and taking a deep breath.

"I wanted to thank you," you said, feeling suddenly small and anxious. "For saving me." The floor did indeed look very interesting.

Eivor blinked. "Of course," she started, facing you fully now. "It was the least I could do, after what the Saxons did." You slowly sat up in the cot again, oh how the floor was so interesting, and there was a long pause between the both of you, as if you'd wanted to say more yet could not find the backbone to do so.

You spoke again first. "I remember why I was there," you said, running your fingers over and through the fur blanket. "What happened before I was captured." Eivor walked a little closer, leaning back on a table with her arms crossed. "Why?"

You met her strikingly blue eyes. "My Jarl betrayed me. My clan. Left us to die," you explained, voice laced with bitterness and remorse. Eivor stayed silent but held your gaze.

"He had a choice, of doing the best for his people, or for himself. He broke the only oath he promised to us. Left us to die at the hands of the Saxons after we'd raided Raculf monastery. Things went smoothly at first, then reinforcements came… there was no way we would have fought our way out. And instead of negotiating, even attempting something, he ran."

Eivor hummed. "...what is his name?"

"Frederik Mikkelsen."

She took note of this, filing it away into her memory. Another long pause. "Why did you raid Raculf?"

You sighed. "For supplies. Frederik made it out to be some sort of conquest. We'd been sailing to Normandy to establish a new settlement for his father but were thrown off course by a storm, landed here in England. We were still fucking drying our clothes when he sent us off to raid. Couldn't wait a damn week for assistance from another Dane camp. I swear something snapped in his head as soon as he saw that storm," you said, reaching over for another spoonful of the stew, though your stomach still complained.

At some point Eivor had looked down at the floor again, mulling over your words. She'd send out a rescue party tomorrow. "I will see to it that your kinsmen are rescued as soon as possible," she said somberly. She knew the pain you felt, having the direction of your life turned completely around. Of having to leave it behind to wither in the past, to let your rage fester and seek revenge for wrongdoings. "And if I hear word of Frederik, I will let you know."

Eivor's kindness was blinding. You could only muster a small "thank you," and Eivor took this as the time to leave. She went to duck under the door frame, then promptly bumped right into Valka.

Valka nearly dropped the basket of bread but caught it at the last second. "Oof! Oh, my apologies, Eivor. I did not know you would be here. Is something the matter?" Eivor only shot Valka a small apologetic smile and shook her head, and bid the two of you farewell. She would discuss her dream with the seeress some other time.

You ate a bit of the bread, your stomach still not properly enjoying the sensation of being filled after days of not eating but the loaves were soft and warm and far easier on you. Valka then made you more of the sweet-smelling tea, and suggested that you rest. Whatever was in that tea blissfully knocked you out cold. You can't be in pain if you're unconscious.

#my writing #ac valhalla #f!eivor x reader #eivor x reader #ac valhalla spoilers #valhalla #eivor #lady eivor

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tinytonysnark · 5 years ago

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9 plus stony pleaseeeeeee 🖤

9. meeting online au

“Bucky, if you don’t stop calling him a catfish I’m gonna tell Nat you’re the one who put tuna in her shoes last month,” Steve says, not looking up from his phone.

Bucky pauses, hand hovering above Steve’s plate of fries. “Why would you order my execution like that?”

“She still glares at Clint every time she puts on her sneakers.”

“Yeah, well he deserves it after he covered my entire arm with Hello Kitty magnets,” Bucky says, stuffing more of Steve’s fries in his mouth.

“I personally feel like it really captured your soul,” Steve tells him, glancing up from his phone briefly.

“Alright, that’s it!” Bucky exclaims, lunging across the table and grabbing Steve’s phone out of his hands.

“Hey! Buck, don’t-”

“Look, it’s been like 2 months since you’ve started talking to this dude and he won’t give you a last name or socials or even a picture and he’s never suggested meeting even though he’s in the goddamn area, but he’s got you wrapped around his keypad,” Bucky says, typing out a message. “We’re meeting him, right here, right now.”

“Bucky, give me back my phone,” Steve says, as calm as he can.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Bucky tosses him a smirk, the jerk. “You could get it from me, easy. Nah, you want this, you’re just being a little punk about it.”

Steve doesn’t even have it in him to argue the point because Bucky is absolutely a jerk, but he’s a jerk that’s right.

He’s been talking to Tony ever since they connected in an online chat group between the MIT and Harvard students a few months ago and Steve likes to think he knows Tony pretty well by now.

He knows that Tony is pretty much a genius who got early admission into MIT because he built his first robot at 16. He knows that Tony is not a morning person and has a heavy dependency on caffeine. He knows that Tony sometimes forgets to eat when he gets too wrapped up in a project, which is why Steve always texts Tony before he starts eating. He knows that Tony doesn’t like talking about his childhood, but that he adores his mom and never ever brings up his dad.

And Tony in return, knows all sorts of things about Steve.

Yet, they’ve never seen a picture of each other, they’ve never exchanged anything aside from phone numbers. Heck, they don’t even know each other’s last names and Steve sometimes convinces himself that it’s good this way.

They’re not doing anything other than texting each other. They just tell each other about their day, their hopes, their dreams, their biggest fears and sure, maybe there are somethings that Tony knows about Steve that he’d never ever thought he’d reveal to another living soul but that’s only because of how easy it is to talk to Tony -

“OHMYGOD!”

Steve and Bucky both whip their head to the couple sitting at the booth in the corner. They make a cute couple, Steve thinks idly, though his eyes linger on the tan brunette who’s looking down at his phone with wide eyes.

He must feel Steve’s eyes on him though cause he looks up, eyes still wide, and Steve goes red at having been caught before turning back to Bucky.

“Buck, give me back my phone so I can undo whatever damage you’ve caused-”

“Hey! I object- there’s no damage. In fact, you should be thanking me.”

“Oh god- what did you-”

Steve’s phone vibrates in Bucky’s hand. Bucky looks down at it, eyes going round before turning back to the couple. “No frickin’ way,” he says, typing in a message.

Steve glares. “Bucky if you don’t give me back my phone-”

“Steve, shut up. You’re gonna owe me so much, holy shit-”

A shadow falls on their table and Steve looks up to see that brunette from earlier. He’s tugging at the sleeves of his sweater which are giving him sweater paws and Lord that’s cute - “Hi.”

“Uh, hi,” Steve replies, shooting Bucky a confused look.

“How did you already know I was here?” the boy asks and Steve’s brows scrunch together.

“Uh, sorry? I’m - I’m not too sure what you’re-”

“Steve,” Bucky says, smirking over at Steve. “Meet Tony.”

Every muscle in Steve’s body freezes. He doesn’t even think he’s breathing and he gazes up at this pretty brunette with the goddamn bambi eyes and he’s always imagined what Tony looks like from his vague descriptions, but “brown hair, brown eyes and I’m trying to grow a beard but it’s not working,” doesn’t in anyway come close to the image before him.

“How- how did you know it was me?” Tony asks Bucky.

Bucky just grins, brandishing Steve’s phone. “Fate works in mysterious ways.”

“Wait-” he turns to Steve, “It wasn’t you texting? You’re not the one who wanted to meet?”

“Yes I didn’t - I mean I did want - Bucky texted but I’ve been-” Steve gapes, brain still trying to process that this is happening, he’s meeting Tony right now, his Tony, and he can’t form sentences.

He stands, takes a deep breath, “Bucky’s the one who texted you, but I definitely have been wanting to meet. I was gonna suggest getting a cup of coffee, but burgers are a good first date too right?”

Tony’s smile could have lit up the darkest room. “A date?”

“Well, yeah, - if you want, I mean I get that -”

“Alright,” Bucky stands, chair scraping hard against the floor. “I’m gonna leave before I have to witness the rainbow pouring out of your ears.” He claps Steve on the shoulder, “You’re welcome, punk.”

“Thanks, jerk,” Steve says, not taking his eyes off Tony.

“Yeah, I’m gonna leave too,” another voice says, and Steve jumps.

The man Tony had been sitting with comes over, gives Tony a smile then glares at Steve. “My girlfriend knows where to hide bodies,” is all he says to him before walking out after Bucky.

Tony groans, cheeks pink. “Sorry about Rhodey, but I have warned you about him.”

Steve laughs, “Well then I’m sorry about Bucky and I definitely should have warned you about him.”

***

In his best man speech, Bucky takes full credit for getting them together, detailing that first meeting to their guests.

Rhodes on the other hand, in his best man speech, says the credit should go to him for suggesting the diner in the first place.

The both of them argue about it all night until Natasha stuffs tuna puffs in their mouths and tells them to shut it.

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

#stevetony #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #marvel #ficlet #a lil over 1k words #this is terrible i'm so sorry #it was supposed to be short but everything else i wrote was so unsatisfying and awkward #and somehow this is the better draft so can you imagine what the others are like???#the biggest con i'll ever pull is bambozling other people into thinking i can actually write #astralathena #nisha answers #nisha writes

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stingslikeabee · 4 years ago

Note

stalk : my muse gets caught by your muse trailing behind them, watching them. -( im sorry but lautrec stalking mel ??? uwu love u )

one word prompts . not accepting

One could never be too careful when walking around Wall Market – while most of the slums were relatively safe and the general population consisted of hardworking and honest people, there were the occasional bandit groups hiding in old and abandoned tunnels and lurking around to do no good – but in the Wall Market, the mafia ruled the place under the rule of Corneo.

And as someone who had made a name opposing the Don, Melissa knew she couldn’t afford the luxury of stepping outside the inn without being alert to her surroundings. Even routine walks to the tailor shop, or perhaps to a favorite restaurant spot – she did all these things incognito, with clothes that draw no attention to her or sometimes accompanied by a friend, one of her own bodyguards, the Turks – her tactics were varied.

On that day, she chose to go around her shopping by herself – the night before had been one of the Don’s infamous selections for a bride for himself so the brothel madame figured that his lackeys were too drunk to bother people in the district, thus making it a safer day than most. Nevertheless, she chose an old pair of jeans, sneakers and a sweater, trying to keep a low profile even if her face was known among shopkeepers and other establish owners. That was usually enough – not many Corneo men had the nerve to try and kidnap her in open daylight from well-frequented places.

And yet, she had the distinct feeling that she was being followed the moment she left the Honey Bee Inn. It was weird – the men Corneo employed were typically lazy and vulgar, and wouldn’t wait too much after she turned the first corner to announce themselves with crude words. But that hadn’t happened – not even after her first stop at the drug store (some girls had a stomach bug and she wanted some medicine for them); or at the tailor (three new dresses were ready, and some of her old clothing had been repaired); or even after lunch at one of her favorite Wutaian places.

Whoever had been tailing her – they had waited until she had finished dessert and paid the bill after catching up with the owner to continue their mission.

By that time, Melissa was nothing if not creeped out. It could no longer be Corneo, right? None of his men were that dedicated, and she started to wonder if it was Shinra (even if she had done nothing worthy of note that could be considered against company policy) even if she liked to think that someone would have tipped her off if her life was danger. Her brain was working hard, trying to pinpoint who could possibly be after her – a persistent client she had denied? A long lost family member? A member of some terrorist organiz-

And then she saw it – Melissa had been fast enough, more luck than skill on her part to capture the telltale fabric of his jacket vanishing behind a wall a moment too late. And even though the behavior was… Odd, to say the least, she was relieved that it wasn’t anyone meaning any sort of harm – rather the opposite.

The most loyal protector she could ever hope for (even if for misguided reasons).

“Lautrec, is that you?” she queried in a neutral tone, a smile on her face as she approached the narrow alleyway he had disappeared into, “Why didn’t you say hello earlier? You know I’d have enjoyed your company for lunch. But it’s good to know you have been keeping me safe during all these errands.”

Her words were apparently too enticing to the man – and he stepped out of his hiding place, his expression a mix of hunger, shame at being caught, pride at hearing her words. Lautrec was a complicated man – and someone who amplified some of her darkest desires. With him doing some of her dirty work, she felt powerful. Untouchable. Suddenly, all her past worries seemed so distant – with Lautrec trailing behind her in the shadows, any men from the Don would have been chopped to tiny pieces before they could get a nasty word out, really.

They had been lucky to stay out of the streets that day.

Melissa moved forward, linking their arms together – and as if mesmerized by her touch, Lautrec immediately moved to grab all her bags and to fawn over her like a true and dedicated servant to his queen (or rather, goddess). The smile that appeared on the madame’s lips was a little on the mischievous side – but mostly grateful. He was such a darling.

Such a devoted ally.

“Let me take you to this food stand in reward for your bodyguard duties, yes?” he nodded, looking at her with eyes shining after mako use, “And then we can talk about this arena from the Don and the prizes he has. Word on the street is that he’s offering this lovely necklace for the winner of a string of fights… Perhaps you would be willing to try and see if you could get the trophy for me?”

The sharp intake of breath by her side told her as much – yes, he would. He would die for her, and gladly so – and by Shiva, that feeling of owing someone, that raw power rush… It was more intoxicating than the best sex she ever had.

#Lautrec #amurderof-crows #v: the Evil Queen #one word prompts #replied #I like how creepy he is #and how she starts to get twisted and ignores it #all these red flags and she's like 'mwahahahaha loooovely'#'let's see how far he's willing to go for ~me~'

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omoi-no-hoka · 5 years ago

Note

Hey! I saw your blog today and I love it very much!! I see you're an open person so, I also have a question: HOW does one survive studying japanese at uni?? I'm in my first year and only my second (online haha) semester and we started out with Minna no nihongo 1 but we're supposed to finish Minna 2 by the end of this semester, same with Basic Kanji book 1 in the first sem and now Basic Kanji Book 2, all while also learning mostly of Japan's history and others in this semester. Exams will kill me

Hello! I’m glad you’re enjoying my blog! I am open to a fault lol. Let me recount my meandering journey through uni, illustrating my feelings through gifs of Noel Fielding because he is my celebrity crush.

Uni is such a difficult time for so many people, trying to figure out who you are now and who you want to be later. It wasn’t until my senior year that I realized what I wanted to do. I started writing out my university experience and it got super long, so allow me to just summarize my “Lessons Learned” here and you can read the rest if you want to know all the dirty deets lol. I double-majored in Japanese and English, so I think that my experience can perhaps be useful to people who are majoring in things other than Japanese as well.

Hard-Learned Lessons from Uni

Do not choose a course of study because it is “practical.” Choose it because it is something you love. Seriously. Nothing is more important than this point. Do not choose a major because “I’ll make a lot of money” or “My parents are telling me this is good for me.”

If you are learning multiple languages at once, you must give your brain time to organize what you learned from one language lesson before moving on to the next. You can do this by waiting a couple hours between lessons, getting up and walking around, studying one language in different space from the other, etc. Otherwise, it all becomes a terrible mess in your head.

It’s okay not to know what you want your career to be. It’s okay not to have a specific plan. Life works out one way or the other.

I know how expensive uni can be. (It’s been six years since I graduated and I’m still making hefty loan payments.) But don’t feel like you have to take a full courseload every single semester and graduated asap, particularly if the classes are hard and/or you are working. I took the maximum credit hours allowed every semester on top of working RIDICULOUS hours and it nearly killed me at one point. I’m not kidding.

It is not unusual to have an identity crisis and/or mental breakdown. Take care of yourself. Know when you are nearing breaking point. Seek out the help of professionals. Most universities have psychiatrists and therapists that will see you very cheaply.

Surround yourself with good people and look out for each other.

Do not rely on substances to ease your suffering because sometimes the remedy becomes the malady. Not saying you should avoid all parties or anything square like that, but just don’t be one of those people that parties every night and gets in over their head.

Let me preface this by stating that I’m an American, and our universities are stupid because they force us to take a ton of “general education” courses that are irrelevant to our majors, and many students spend their first couple years taking only a couple courses related to their majors and minors, and try to focus on getting those stupid gen eds out of the way.

Year 1: Oh Shit, This Is Harder Than I Thought It Would Be

I come from a town of less than 2600 people. Our high school prepared its students for the following career paths:

joining the military (boys only)

becoming a farmer (boys only)

welding, carpentry, or other practical jobs (boys only)

becoming a housewife (girls only)

So basically I coasted through high school never having to study anything because it was one great big joke, only I thought I was like super duper smart because I was in the top five of my graduating class of 48. LOLLLLLLLLL

I entered university as a German major, Japanese minor. (Japanese was not offered as a major at my uni). I had never studied German previously, but I studied Spanish and French in high school and I just had this feeling that German and Japanese were the languages for me.

The first semester, I had Japanese 101 and German 101 back to back, in the EXACT SAME CLASSROOM. I can’t stress enough how much of a mindfuck it was to go from thinking about Japanese for 50 minutes, having a 10 minute break, and then trying to switch your brain to German. IN THE SAME ROOM. It actually gave me headaches to try and make that mental jump. Managed to pull through the year with A’s in both, but German was much more of a challenge to me than Japanese. Which was really unexpected.

I also flunked several gen eds because I didn’t give a shit about them and skipped them and got placed on academic probation and was nearly kicked out of uni because of my poor grades

Basically, I was such a weeb that I had watched enough anime with subtitles and sung along to enough anime songs that I had absorbed about 90% of the first year’s worth of Japanese vocab and grammar through osmosis. I really did have the power of God and anime on my side.

Year 2: The Year of the Mid-Midlife Crisis and Mental Breakdown

There really is no gif that will encapsulate the level of turmoil I went through that year. I looked really hard for one, trust me.

It became apparent very quickly that I could not keep up with German. I ended up dropping it early in the first semester, which meant I had to choose a new major. Thinking of what would be practical to pair with a Japanese minor, I went for International Business for a semester, took Accounting, and realized that I HATE The Man, corporate bullshit, and also numbers as a concept.

All I knew at this point was that I liked Japanese but couldn’t make it a major. I also knew I didn’t want to transfer universities. So I kept taking gen eds, just barely passing them because to this day I cannot bring myself to put effort into something I do not care about, and also taking more classes related to my Japanese minor. It was the Japanese classes that saved my GPA and kept me from getting kicked out of uni.

At the same time, I took a creative writing course because that’s been a hobby of mine since elementary school, and I kinda thought about an English major, but then was like, “Eww I don’t wanna be forced to read books I don’t give a shit about. And also, what will I do with that degree?”

Also, at the same time, I was working full time, and often getting stuck working from 2 pm to 7 am (Yes, 15-hour shifts, because the overnight dude would call in sick last minute and I’d be begged to cover his shift), and then dragging myself to classes and drooling on the desks because I’d fall asleep.

Also also, I started to have possible hallucinations? To this day I don’t know what was going on, but either I was legitimately going crazy, or there was a demon following me around and being quite rude to me, making light fixtures fall and shatter inches from my head, throwing papers around my room, opening and closing doors, turning lights off and on, coming to me in dreams and doing some really, really traumatic things to me in them, and just standing in corners staring at me at all hours of the night. Had me so scared that towards the end of the school year I was waiting to sleep until sunrise, when it would go away. And no, I was not using any mind-altering substances of any sort. Not even going out and getting drunk.

So, yeah. Year Two was a hard one that I can’t believe I pushed through. Probably the darkest year of my life, I’d say. What got me through it? An unhealthy amount of energy drinks, friends, and my love of Japanese. Also Aerosmith.

Do I still see that demon? No. He vanished when the school year ended and I moved out of the dorms. Do I believe in the supernatural? Yes, to an extent. Do I think that what I was seeing was actually a demon? I honestly don’t know. I have had actual supernatural experiences verified by multiple witnesses, and a few years before Year 2, several friends and myself had seen an entity similar to what was following me around. But this one in Year 2 only did things when I was alone. So it could have all been in my head, and I will never know.

Since then, I have been diagnosed with general anxiety and also a form of insomnia that keeps me from sleeping through the night, and I know that my anxiety manifests itself in psychosomatic ways. In other words, my mind will take my anxiety and turn it into a physical symptom that feels real in every way, but is actually not occurring. So far it’s manifested as: sensitivity to sunlight, the symptoms of a stroke or heart attack, half of my face going numb, and headaches in my left eye. Once I realize that the symptom is just my anxiety, I can force myself to ignore and overcome it. But then my anxiety finds a new form to manifest, and the cycle repeats a few months later. It could be that my stress caused me to see this demon for a while.

Should I have consulted a psychiatrist and gotten help? YEP. If you find yourself struggling like that, seek help please. 💕

Year 3: Adrift But Afloat

I moved out of the dorms and into an apartment with my best friend, a Japanese girl I met in the dorms freshman year. I will call her Setsuko. Setsuko is basically the reason I graduated uni. She memorized my class schedules and took copies of exam dates, woke me up, forced me to go classes instead of skipping, forced me to go to the library and study with her, and cooked me dinner most days since she didn’t have to work like I did. I can’t express enough how much she did to improve my life outside of school and work, and how much that improved my mental health. She also acclimated me to lots of subtle things about Japanese culture just by living with her, and this helped me later when I moved to Japan. Thank you, Setsuko. 一生の恩人。

I was still doing those bullshit 15-hour overnight shifts way more than I should have, and also had the maximum courseload.

The Japanese classes got a lot more difficult in Year 3. But I loved them. They were the only classes I never skipped. I took more classes towards the minor like Buddhist Philosophy and Japanese History, which I really enjoyed. While polishing off more gen eds, I thought over what to do with my major.

My family and friends all told me that I should become an English teacher. I had always been good at words and at explaining things. But I didn’t really like the idea of being a high school teacher. I became an English major, though, because I knew that I didn’t hate English. Took grammar classes and HOLY SHIT did I hit my stride.

I realized that I didn’t like English lit. I liked linguistics. So I focused heavily on all grammar and linguistics courses, taking the bare minimum of literature courses required for the major. My GPA improved substantially.

Yet I still was consumed with this nagging fear. It was Year 3 and I still had no fucking idea what I wanted to do when I graduated.

Year 4: Clarity At The 11th Hour

Urged on by my “Don’t you dare get one of those stupid arts degrees that won’t get you a paycheck” parents, I decided that the most “practical” degree would not be “English,” but “English Education.” I began taking the English Ed classes with linguistics, grammar, and second language acquisition classes. The goal was to become a qualified English high school teacher who could also do ESL (since I had Spanish and Japanese under my belt more or less).

At the same time, I entered into Independent Study for Japanese with two other students. We were tasked with reading Izu no Odoriko, a classic short story. Independent study was its own beast. It required a lot more concentration and work on my part, obviously. But because Japanese was my first and foremost passion, I centered my efforts on those courses, and then on the others.

The process of getting certified to be an English teacher was lengthy and expensive in my state. This meant my graduation would be further prolonged, and I was worried about money, because I was already about $50,000 in debt at the time, despite working those fucking overnight shifts all the time that were eating me alive.

Then, during the summer vacation when my 4th year ended, I got a scholarship and went to Japan to study abroad. Education majors had the option to study abroad in several countries, and as luck would have it, one of them was Japan, and it was Setsuko’s HOMETOWN! The study abroad program itself was the first month of summer vacation, and Setsuko said, “Okay, just come stay at my house for the rest of summer vacation!”

Never have I said “yes” quicker in my entire life.

On the train headed from Sapporo to the town where I would be actually staying during my studies, I looked at the lush rice paddies and mountains in the distance and my entire heart just hummed with this “This is where you’re meant to be.” I knew then and there that I would move to Japan upon graduation.

What would I do there? Well, teach English, obviously.

My three months in Japan effectively aligned my entire life. My path had materialized before me. It was a roughly hacked, hard-to-see path through thick underbrush, but I could see it nonetheless.

Year 5: Let’s Hurry It Up, I’m Ready To Live

Come Year 5, all of my Japanese classmates that had been with me since freshman year were gone and I was alone. My professor taught me Classical Japanese through independent study, and it was the must grueling course I took my entire five years there. But I found it invaluable and am eternally grateful to him for teaching me, because you see Classical Japanese a lot more than you’d think you would in everyday life. Particularly in formal settings.

I still wanted to get certified to teach English in American high schools, because while I knew I wanted to go to Japan for now, I didn’t know if I wanted to spend my entire life there and I wanted a solid job opportunity when I came back to the states at some point.

However, the more education courses I took, the more I saw that the American education system was just as full of red-tape and The Man’s bullshit as corporate America, something else I rebuke with every fiber of my being. I also realized I’d need to take a 6th year of university, and that just wasn’t financially feasible for me. So I switched to a plain old English major with a heavy focus on linguistics and second language acquisition, and continued classical Japanese.

I took the remaining 3 gen eds online in the summer, graduated, popped up to Chicago to do a month-long intensive course to get the CELTA (Certificate in Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages issued by Cambridge.) It’s the most widely accepted and revered certification for teaching English as a foreign language.

So in the span of five years, I graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in English with a focus in linguistics and SLA, and what is technically a major in Japanese Studies. 40 credit hours were required for a major, and I completed 42 credit hours tied to my minor, so while it isn’t listed on my diploma as a major, I did the coursework. I also got a CELTA Pass B, which only 20% of applicants achieve and never expires. The grand total for all of this was roughly $100,000 USD in loans.

Post-Graduation

The week I came back to my hometown from Chicago with my CELTA in hand, I packed my suitcases, threw a going-away party, and then flew to Sapporo, where I began my first job after uni, teaching English to children aged 0-18 at a private English conversation school. I did that for three years before changing careers and becoming a Japanese-English translator/interpreter for a global company.

So how useful have my choices during university proven to be?

I’m sure I don’t have to explain that studying Japanese helps me tons with translating Japanese to English or living in Japan lol

Studying English grammar, linguistics, sociolinguistics, and second language acquisition has allowed me to recognize minute nuances that can make the difference between a successful and unsuccessful business negotiation when interpretation is necessary.

My background in education also means that I know how to present information clearly, concisely, and in a way that engages the audience. I am known as “The PowerPoint Pro” at work lol.

I also have a keen eye for performance evaluation, behavior analysis, and improvement action plans.

I offered English conversation lessons to coworkers for over a year, and now that is being done in other branches across the company! (Well, they were before COVID haha.)

I DO NOT RECOMMEND WORKING THE HOURS I WORKED WHILE IN SCHOOL. My grades suffered and I wish I had worked less and focused more on classes. However, by working 15-hour shifts and doing full days of classes, I developed a very good tolerance for overtime, which comes in handy in the Japanese workplace. Just last month I had three 15 hour days in the same week. Sweet, sweet overtime pay.

All of these facets have culminated in me earning a pretty nice promotion to 正社員 seishain back in February, which means I get nice benefits and basically my job is guaranteed until I die or the company goes under.

Should I decide to return to America someday, I will probably not go into the education field. Too much red tape. I will likely continue translation/interpretation for companies, because it isn’t too difficult and pays well. Though ideally I’d love to just make a living sharing cool information about Japanese and stuff, and maybe writing those stories that are bouncing around in my head when I should be working haha.

Do I think the debt is worth it?

Well, I don’t think I had any other option than to take out those loans. I didn’t have the means to learn the things I wanted to learn unless I went to university.

Unless Japanese work visa requirements have changed, you are required to have a bachelor’s degree in order to obtain my sub-type of work-visa, so I needed a degree of some kind no matter what.

Frankly, if I hadn’t gone to that university and met my best friend Setsuko, I don’t think I’d be where I am right now, living the life I am now. So just having met her is worth any price to me.

Paying off all the loans is daunting, especially when yen is weak to the dollar. There were months I had to ask my parents for help, especially early on. But now I’ve got multiple loans paid off, my salary has increased, and the “omg i have money and no supervision so I can buy whatever I want” idiocy has mostly gone away. But I did get a super sweet pair of blindingly silver Converses a couple days ago that I definitely didn’t need

Do I have any regrets regarding my time at university?

I still regret dropping Old English for a stupid English Ed class. Seriously, how cool would that have been? But I still have the textbook, workbook, and I contacted the professor last week and she was kind enough to send me a syllabus. God bless her. So now I’m working on that bit by bit, which is fun.

I wish I hadn’t been such a cocky, naive idiot my first year. Thinking I could just “show up for tests” was the stupidest thing. It messed up my GPA, and my parents forbade me from retaking classes so I couldn’t go back and fix my mistakes. I think I graduated with a 3.4 overall GPA out of 4, but my English major GPA was 3.9 and my Japanese GPA was 4.0. So it’s pretty frustrating to have those gen eds and my dumbfuckery mar my transcript like that.

I really didn’t party at all. Most all of my friends were straight-laced Japanese exchange students, and I was also working ridiculous hours so I just didn’t really have the time. A part of me feels like I missed out on that part of the college experience.

Recently I’ve been putting more effort into improving my creative writing by reading a lot of books on the subject. Not a small part of me wishes that I had gone with a Creative Writing major instead of English major, because I still would have studied all the grammar and linguistics. Then again, I do believe that creative writing can be self-taught.

I wish I hadn’t worked as much as I did. There were a lot of times I couldn’t complete assignments or I missed lectures because I was just so drained. It wasn’t even good money.

Well...I did not intend for this post to become as long as it has. I’ve been cooped up in my apartment with nothing but two goldfish for company for over a month now and I think I’m a bit stir-crazy. Thank you to anyone and everyone who bothered to read all of this and become my therapist for a bit haha. Love you all. Stay safe and well. 💖

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