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letterstotheflre · 3 years

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i'd beg you on my knees

summary: you loved sirius's fingers, but there's something you craved more.

warnings: oral sex (male receiver), daddy kink, a bit of religious imagery (you know how it is), a bit of spitting, mentions of throat training and finger sucking, i think that's it?

word count: 2.5k

a/n: as a celebration for passing my chemistry final and 300 followers, here is the second part to the sirius corrupting you series :)

ps: i know those look like feminine hands, but pretend they are sirius’s okay i spent 2 hours looking for something to use and that’s the best i got

you couldn’t stop staring at his hands.

you had always loved them. they were big, always completely encasing your smaller ones, and full of rings, some of which you made yourself. the skin on his palm and finger pads was a bit rough, a consequence of years of holding a bat to hit the bludgers away from his teammates. but there was still a slight delicate appearance to them, courtesy of the black family genes which, despite years of slight inbreeding, somehow still managed to make some of the most attractive people in the wizarding world.

you loved the way they felt against the small of your back or your waist, always letting some warmth seep through the fabric of your clothes. you loved the way they cupped your cheeks before he leant down to kiss you, slightly squishing your cheeks and puckering your lips for him. but ever since that afternoon a few days ago, you adored the way they felt in your mouth.

you tried to be subtle, you really did, but it was impossible to stop staring at them. you couldn’t forget the weight of his fingers on your tongue nor the way they hit the back of your throat. the feeling of having them in your mouth brought a strange sense of comfort to you, it was like having a piece of him always inside you.

and sirius noticed. of course he did, you were one of the only things he deemed important enough to pay attention to, followed by the phases of the moon and any updates on the 5-year plan james had made to woo lily evans. and because he liked seeing your glazed over eyes and heating cheeks when he caught you staring, he started to show them off on purpose.

he started to talk with more hand movements, followed by always playing with any stray hairs around your face. he started to use his thumb to play with your bottom lip before kissing you, almost giving you what you wanted but then taking it away from you.

he caved in when he saw how truly needy you were for them. the teary eyes and little whines you made every time he pulled them away from your mouth were almost enough to make him hard, so he allowed you to suck on them every now and then. he watched attentively as you slightly hollowed your cheeks when he used both his pointer and middle fingers, sometimes trying to get as much of them inside you as possible.

so he started to push your limits, drawing circles against the back of your tongue before he pushed them further, not warning you before they entered your cavity, yearning to hear what other pretty sounds you could do besides moaning and whining. you had gagged violently the first time he did it, and you looked at him confused at the sudden intrusion, “remember the first time you sucked on them? remember what you wanted them to be?” you nodded slowly, embarrassed that he could recall how much you wanted other parts of him inside you. “I gotta stretch your little throat, bunny. gotta get you all ready for my cock.”

and that was that. the following days were spent with you either on his lap or on your knees in front of him, long and thick fingers prodding the back of your throat constantly until it only took you less than five minutes to get used to the feeling of something residing in it. sirius never let up, even if you had some tears in your eyes caused by the intrusion, always giving you new learning material: breath through your nose, relax your throat, open your mouth wide. his instructions ran through your brain every day, an urgent need to remember them controlling your thoughts.

and that’s how you were now, on your knees in front of him like a repentant while sirius sat on the edge of the mattress, mouth wide open as you waited eagerly for his fingers. you watched, intrigued, as his mandible moved around almost like he was collecting something. your unvoiced question was answered when his face came close to yours, his hand tangling itself in your hair to tilt it upwards, and then his spit was dribbling onto your pink tongue.

the sight of him spitting into your mouth sent a thrum of pleasure to your core. “swallow,” he said, leaving no room for disobedience. You followed his command, letting it fall down your throat as if it were your forbidden fruit, and once you opened your mouth again his fingers went in, immediately pressing on your tongue. you swirled your tongue around them, covering them in your saliva before he started to push them further. you only gagged a little, the previous lessons having already prepared you.

he let you suck on them a bit longer before removing them, watching as your hands scrambled to his wrist to keep them close. he shook his head, chuckling in amusement, “you needy thing.” he patted your head, “I think you are ready for my cock, angel, do you want it?”

you opened your eyes wide, looking like a kid in a candy shop. “yes, please!” your voice was a bit hoarse, “wanna make you feel good like you made me feel the other day, siri.” the smirk he wore on his lips when he heard your eager ‘yes’ fell into an honest smile, “oh I bet you’ll make me feel better than that, bunny.”

you watched from your position on the hardwood floor as he rose to his feet, unbuckling his belt and pulling the zipper down. he let his jeans fall to the floor, now only clad in his underwear that would soon meet the same fate and you wiggled, eager to finally see him. once he was completely naked he sat back on the bed, spreading his legs so you could kneel comfortably between them. he was already a bit hard, courtesy of the image of you suckling on his fingers so needily, but he still needed a little push before he was ready for you.

you were entranced by him, this being the first time you ever saw someone other than yourself completely naked. he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and you could see the slight ripples of muscle on his abdomen and the stray tattoos that adorned his skin here and there. he had a few scars, some of them caused by his parents' punishments and others from a few accidents during the full moon, but he was still absolutely beautiful.

and then your eyes fell lower, down the happy trail of hair that led to what you had been craving since that fateful tuesday afternoon. it was big, even though you had never seen another cock you couldn’t deny its length. there was a vein on one side that stood out a bit, and the tip was a bit red and something shiny was coating it. “can I please touch it, daddy?” you asked sweetly, wanting to remain on his good side.

the name had accidentally left your mouth a few days ago when you were suckling on his fingers. you were just so needy, so desperate for their weight on your tongue that your mind had started to feel fuzzy, and the nickname just slipped out.

your cheeks had resembled the heat of a fire, still sober enough to realize your mistake but when you saw the way his eyes had darkened and his grip on your waist tightened, you repeated it. he had cursed, voice low as his other hand cupped your cheek. “you want daddy’s fingers, hm?” he questioned, forcing you to tell him with your words what you wanted when you merely nodded. and that was a new lesson, ask for what you want and you were to only refer to him as daddy in private.

“go on, angel,” he said with a nod of his head. slowly, you moved one hand closer, still a bit hesitant with your movements. though eager to learn, you were still scared of doing something wrong and stop being his good girl as he had called you multiple times while he watched as you touched yourself for him. he would sit in a chair in front of the bed as he told you what to do and when to cum, and the rush of power he felt was extraordinary.

one finger traced the vein, the soft touch making sirius twitch. the skin was warm and actually pretty smooth, with a couple of ridges here and there. gently, you closed your hand around the base and moved it up and down, and sirius groaned. the soft touch drove him insane, your palm barely gripping him, “close your hand a bit more, puppy,” he instructed. you gripped him more tightly, “it won’t hurt you?” you asked.

sirius just smiled at your thoughtfulness, “no, baby, it’ll feel really good. just don’t add too much pressure as you did with your nipples the other day,” he slightly taunted. you blushed at his teasing, “didn’t mean to do that, daddy,” you grumbled and unknowingly thumbed at the slit of the tip, making him moan in pleasure. the sound was so heavenly in your ears that you did it again and again until one of his hands gripped your hair so you looked up at him.

“you’re teasing me now, bunny?” he said harshly, “that’s not how it works and you know it. d’ya want me to stop you from cumming again like I did yesterday?”

you shook your head quickly, or as much as you could with the grip on your hair, “no no, m’sorry, daddy, didn’t mean to.” but he just chuckled, an empty sound that wasn’t as nice as his previous moans. “oh, you didn’t mean to! like you didn’t mean to tug on your nipples. like you didn’t mean to wear that tiny skirt the other day. like you didn’t mean to cum without my permission three days ago.” he started to list all of your accidents, “is there anything you do mean, angel?” he asked harshly.

your lips slightly quivered at his tone, ashamed at making him angry when all you wanted was to please him. “I want to make you feel good, daddy! m’sorry, I promise I’ll be better. I’ll be your best girl.” you tried to convince him, and you really did mean it. all you wanted was to be good for him.

“well, then put my cock in your mouth and show me y’can be good.” with that, he moved your head closer towards him, and then slackened his grip. you looked at him while giving the tip a little kiss, then using your tongue to collect the pearly white liquid that had collected there. it tasted a bit funny, saltier than you remembered your own cum to taste, but it wasn’t necessarily bad. then, using the flat of your tongue, you moved along the length, using one hand to keep it straight.

sirius was biting his lip as he watched you, his little angel on her pretty knees about to suck him for the first time. after a few more teasing licks, you finally took him into your mouth, and the moan that escaped sirius was incredibly sinful. your mouth was so warm and so wet that the only other place sirius could ever possibly want to be in was your pussy.

you swirled your tongue around the bit that was inside your cavity, your hand still stimulating what you couldn’t fit yet. he was big, too big for your mouth, but you wanted to fit all of him inside, so you took a deep breath through your nose and tried to relax both your mandible and your throat before taking him deeper. you pushed as far as you could, staying there for a couple of seconds before pulling apart, heaving another deep breath before repeating your actions. you gagged and choked at the progressive obstruction, yet you pushed through it, but it sounded so good in sirius’s ears that he thought about just pushing your head down without warning.

sirius threw his head back with a groan when you started to hollow your cheeks, “fuck, angel, you’re so good, taking me so well.” he praised, and it made you shiver in pleasure, the meaning of his words accompanied by his gruff voice a perfect melody. you raised your eyes to look at him. he looked beautiful like this: head thrown back, lips red from biting them, completely exposed for you and one hand gripping the sheets while the other grabbed your head.

you pulled away with a pop, “y’look so pretty, daddy,” you complimented him, and it made the tension in his stomach tighten significantly. it was such an innocent compliment in a completely unholy scenario that he couldn’t help but twitch in your hand. you had just wrapped your lips around him again when he said, “not as pretty as you with m’cock down your throat,” and it made you giggle around him as you shied a bit at his words. the vibrations of your little laugh could’ve sent him over the edge, “shit—” he cursed.

you took him deeper than ever before, your throat now used to the intrusion and barely even gagging. sirius started to raise his hips, almost face fucking you but he held back some of the strength in his thrusts. you kept your eyes on him, and fuck you looked so good with your mouth full and those watery eyes and flushed skin that after a few more thrusts he pulled you away.

you whimpered, not understanding why he stopped your movements. there was still a string of saliva that connected your mouth to him, and he sped up his hand movements as he looked at your sinful image. “daddy,” you groused, tongue out so he could put it back in.

“fuck, angel, m’gonna cum,” he moaned, “n’ I’m gonna paint your little face, d’you want that?” he asked, slightly panting through his exertion. but you shook your head, “m’mouth, want to taste you,” and that did it for him. he cursed and moaned, all at the same time, as that wave of pleasure swallowed him whole. white spurts fell on your tongue, a few others coating your cheeks, and he looked so sinful while working through his orgasm that you had to clench your thighs together.

once he was fully spent, he watched as you eagerly swallowed what he gave you, showing him there was nothing left. his hands went to your cheeks, cleaning his cum from your face and forcing you to clean them, too. it was so dirty that he felt proud of what he made of you, his cock twitching once more before softening.

“was I good, daddy?” you asked him with a slightly raspy voice. you were looking up at him as if he were your god, his opinion of the highest importance to you. he smiled proudly, his fingers now playing with the chain that had a little ‘s’ that rested just between your collarbones. “the best, angel.”

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#sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black smut #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black one shot #marauders smut #marauders fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine

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troubatrain · 4 years

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want you to want me - m. tkachuk

a/n: i’m awful at intros but this fic is my whole ass child. i started it months ago and i picked it up back and then i just couldn’t stop writing. now we’re at a whopping 10k words and i’m really happy with the way this one came out. i hope you guys like it as much as i loved writing it.

big thanks to @hookingminor @igor-shestyorkin & @tkafuckit for reading this as i wrote it and gassing me up ily all sm

warnings: smut

You were Matthew’s dream girl, and you didn’t have a fucking clue. You were leaning against the cold metal bleachers of your former high school, chatting with whatever teacher probably wanted to hear all about that shiny NWSL contract you signed right out of college with the Chicago Red Stars. It was well deserved, a few national titles in college put you in the position in the first place, and Matthew respected the hell out of you. You wouldn’t know, by the way he never seems like he actually wants to speak to you and the few snide remarks about your sport in general. That started forever ago, when Matthew royally fucked up any chance he had with you later in life because he was a competitive asshole.

It started when you were twelve, and middle school was nothing short of a mess. Matthew was growing into his own, adding a near foot to his height over one summer while his father and coaches doted on the fact that he was getting bigger. Getting bigger meant getting better, and for a few years winning was the most important thing in the world. But, becoming a hormonal preteen came with something else, feelings about the girl who sat three rows behind him in almost all of his classes.

Then third period gym class came around, and Matthew was a competitive monster. The kind of kid who took that way too seriously, and you accidentally became public enemy number one. You were the only person in his class who could even come close to beating him at anything, because you were just as much of an athlete as he was. Soccer had become your craft, and much like Matthew, you declared you’d go pro one day. So, Matthew did what any other insecure twelve year old boy would, he teased you relentlessly. It was awful, but by the time Matthew had gone off to play for the National team you had forgotten about his bullshit.

Apparently, you’d done something in a past life to warrant dealing with Matthew for longer than you ever anticipated. Jamie was your little sister, and Taryn’s best friend. Best friend was probably understatement, the pair were inseparable on and off the field. They trained together, they played on the same teams and that meant way too much time with the rest of the Tkachuk’s. You learned quickly, that the rest of their family was wonderful and Matthew seemed to be too thick headed to fall in line.

You tolerated Matthew, brushing his silly remarks off just like you did when you were younger. The thing was, Matthew didn’t want you to just tolerate him, but he didn’t know how to get you to stop hating him. You make your way over to Matthew who’d been standing next to his brother since the start of your sister’s game.

“Hi Brady,” You greet, tapping Brady on the shoulder who pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That annoyed Matthew the most, the way you seemed to love his siblings and despise him. In your defense, nobody was more supportive of your professional career than Brady, who’d made a promise to catch a game the second he could, “Hi Matthew.”

You were waiting for something from Matthew, an acknowledgement for finally achieving a dream of yours. You’d gotten the congratulations from the rest of his family, a massive celebration because Keith thought you deserved it. Matthew probably didn’t think you did. You could practically hear his smug little voice about how much his recently inked contract was compared to yours, because you’d heard it since you were kids. He used to rip on your athletic abilities every chance he could, something about how it didn’t matter how hard you could kick a ball you couldn’t hold a hockey stick so he was just better.

“You’re here!” You hear the chipper voice of your little sister approach, Jamie’s sweaty postgame arms wrapped around your waist. You’d been in Chicago, signing some paperwork and looking into finding a place to stay when you had to go for camp. You promised you’d make it back in time, and your flight landed less than five hours ago but you made it.

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself, watching his own sister push past him to see you. Taryn loved you, because sometimes she just needed a big sister and her brothers were in another country most

of the time. It was the part that killed him the most, seeing you with his family. You fit right in, a fierce athlete with drive that rivaled his own. Brady side-eyed his own brother, watching him instead of the scene unfolding in front of him. He was frustrated with his own brother for not just telling you the truth, that he teased you because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to handle having a crush on you.

But Brady was going to do it himself if his brother didn’t.

***

Matt, you don’t have a girlfriend right?

Matthew knew damn well he should not have answered his sister’s question, but when he realized her best friend had been sitting right next to her in the kitchen, his curiosity got the best of him. So he did, telling his sister he was single and sparing her details of any of the girls he’d gone on dates with the past year. That was his life is Calgary, a constant revolving door so no one would see what was underneath layers of sarcasm and angst. But every summer, he’d come home and wonder when he’d start to build a life for himself, and if he’d ever find that person to do it with. That was when his brain would start to wander, fantasies of a future that always seemed to involve you. He loved to imagine it, the years that you’d both spend supporting the other’s dream. Matthew would do anything to make sure you achieved yours, and he thought you’d do the same. Then you’d both settle down, the big house with the white picket fence and a shiny ring on your finger Matthew put there himself and years of arguing about what sport your future children would play - he’d even consider letting you have just one.

Unfortunately, none of that could be real until he figured out how to get you to hate him less. Taryn apparently had the same idea, and had been scheming with your sister for months. The two girls were looking at Matthew with devilish grins on their faces, like whatever they came up with would totally work.

“Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Your sister hums, sipping the smoothie they forced Matthew to drive them to go get, “It’s sad actually-”

“We think you should date,” Taryn explains, Matthew’s eyes went wide. His sister didn’t know the whole story, or just how far back this stupid fued went. Taryn always loved you, so Matthew just kept his remarks to himself.

“I know you know Y/N doesn’t like me very much,” Matthew explains, “So tell me how that’s going to work.”

“Apologize to her, if she can forgive me for anything she’ll forgive you,” Jamie sighs, thinking of all the times you’d shown her mercy when she didn’t deserve it.

“You’ve got to be sorry,” Brady interrupts, mouth full of food while he goes to go look for more in the fridge. He turns around, Matthew’s eyes giving him daggers, “What? You were a dick to her for years, you’ve got to fix that first.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, Taryn had already planned out what Matthew should say to you. Matthew wasn’t going to repeat those words, because he knew exactly what he’d say to you if he ever got the chance. He was trying to fix his past, because the way he acted towards you was the one thing he regrets.

So with the help of your little sister and the Find my Friends app, Matthew was pulling up to a soccer field he’d been to plenty of times. He used to run through the park nearby, catching a glimpse of your practices when you were in high school and Matthew was an afterthought. He hops out of his car, smiling when he could see you running drills alone. You were dribbling the ball, counting to yourself while you were weaving through cones you set up.

“I’ve never been good at those,” Matthew calls out, walking over to you while you stopped and caught your breath, “I kick the cones with my skate every single time.”

“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” You tease, grabbing your water and guzzling it down, “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I came to apologize?” Matthew admits, knowing his face was probably bright red. He was nervous, the good kind like he got before a big game, “I was just an insecure kid then, and you didn’t deserve what I did just because I was afraid you’d beat in something.”

Matthew left out the part where he felt like he was still that kid all the time. All of those insecurities about himself seemed to be picked up by every reporter in Canada when he was there. You bit your lip, pretending like you were trying to debate whether or not you should forgive Matthew at all. In reality, you would have forgiven him ages ago if he’d just apologized sooner. It was so long ago, and sometimes you thought Matthew’s constant taunting made you better. He was pleading, baby blue eyes staring at you sadly while he waited for your answer. He looked like he didn’t think he deserved to be forgiven, shoulders slumped while he tried to read your body language. It was something you noticed about Matthew forever ago, he could have everything in the world but when he looked at you he seemed almost sad.

“I mean I could forgive you, but only if you beat me,” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Matthew, “If I win, I don’t have to and if you win all is forgiven.”

“Really? Isn’t that why we were in this situation to begin with?” Matthew points out, crossing his arms at you.

“I thought you weren’t that kid anymore,” You remind of his own words, testing him to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was. Matthew smirks, chuckling to himself, “C’mon Tkachuk let’s see what you got.”

Matthew shook his head, laughing and lining up next to you. You both counted to three, sprinting down the field at full force. Matthew knew his height was the only thing working to his advantage while he tried to keep up with you. You were nearing your finish line, and Matthew didn’t think he was going to win. You were going to forgive him regardless, but Matthew didn’t know that. His arms stretched out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his chest. Matthew turned his body around, stepping over the line before you did.

“God, you’re such a fucking cheater Matthew,” You hit his chest, Matthew’s hands still firmly placed on your hips.

“I didn’t want to lose,” Matthew admits, all of his smug attitude diminishing immediately, “Just want you to forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you if you never pull that shit on me again,” You poke his chest, slipping out of his grip and running to your stuff before he could notice how nervous he was making you.

No. Absolutely not. You told yourself while you checked your phone, rolling your eyes at the warning text from Jamie that Matthew was on his way, you couldn’t have anything but indifference to Matthew Tkachuk. It got harder everytime you saw him, the past few years had been nothing short of kind to him, he was growing from a dumb immature boy to a man more and more every summer. You turn around, peeking at Matthew who was sitting down and catching his breath, a winning smile on his face, the same kind he had the very first time he schooled everyone at floor hockey in middle school.

Maybe you could be friends.

***

Matthew liked having you as a friend, mostly because as of right now that was all he was going to get. You definitely didn’t trust him, which was valid considering Matthew had been a dick to you for years, but he was working on it. He had to, that uncontrollable feeling that he cared about you was getting harder to shove back down with every year that passed.

“You’re friends now, you don’t need to stare at her like a creep anymore,” Brady scoffs, watching his brother gawk at you from afar. Matthew couldn’t help it, you just had a glow about you, you always did, but somehow in the summer you were golden. Tonight you looked even better, maybe it’s because you smiled at him when he walked instead of scowling like you usually did.

“He’s in love with you,” Steph giggles, sipping her drink and giving Matthew a side eye, “He’s been staring at you all night.”

“He apologized to me,” You confess, holding in that little secret about Matthew’s visit to the field even from your best friend. You had the same friends, the same group of people who’d been pushing the two of you to work it out for years. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to know that they no longer had to worry about one of you blowing up because the other was there, you just wanted everyone to let it go too. Matthew deserved a little forgiveness, you could only imagine the pressure he felt on himself back then, and while he didn’t totally deserve your protection - you were going to give it to him, “Don’t-”

“Oh wonder why, I know it’s because he looooves you,” Steph teases, “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah I mean we’re both older and I’d like to think he’s wiser, and besides our parents are way too close,” You knew this was going to be your excuse for a while. It was better for everyone that you forgave him, Jamie and Taryn spent more time together than you’d spend with anyone and you're just as close with the rest of their family. It wasn’t untrue that it was in fact for the best, but that didn’t mean Matthew’s stupid dimples didn’t persuade you before you could think about anyone else, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you once that night, especially after the way Steph downed tequila shots and convinced you to join her. You deserved to celebrate, you’d accomplished something Matthew knew was your biggest dream because it was the same as his. He was proud of you, not that he’d gotten a chance to show it.

“If you’re going to go pro Y/N, you’ve got to start keeping up,” Brady chirps, watching you stumble over your own feet to walk over to him and Matthew. Matthew had seen this once before, a level of drunkenness where you turned into bambi but that was so long ago he never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ll go pro in beating your ass Brady,” You snap back, shooting daggers over Brady who was already cracking up, “Hi Matthew.”

“Hi,” Matthew’s voice was small, a weird sound considering he was usually the loudest in the room. Brady scoffs, walking away from the two of you before he snaps at how hopelessly in love his brother was. You turn your head in confusion, your mind far too hazy to realize why Brady was so annoyed in the first place, causing Matthew to chuckle, “Want to play? Might be best if we’re on the same team.”

Matthew’s thumb shot over to the beer pong set up on the other side of the room, a mischievous smirk on face, “I mean if it’s for the best.”

Matthew’s arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to his chest while you both played pong was definitely not for the best, and it wasn’t helping that stupid crush you had on him. You could feel Steph’s stare from the corner of the room, and you look at her to mouth a don’t at her. It was nice having Matthew on your team, finally a moment where instead of arguing with each other about who’s elbow was clearly over the table - you got to do the same thing to Brady.

“Brady you’re cheating,” You call out, Matthew’s head thrown back in laughter at your seriousness.

“You heard her Brady, elbows over the table,” Matthew breathes out, his body still rumbling with laughter at his little brother’s expense.

“Oh look at you two, you’re just gonna raise some winners one day aren’t you?” Brady chirps back, both happy to see you getting along and annoyed once he realizes that means he was going to get roasted by both of you now. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, tucking your face into Matthew’s arm in hopes no one saw the way you shrunk at that stupid joke.

“We’re winners right now,” Matthew calls out, his last ball landing in the cup and sealing the game for the two of you. Matthew would raise winners with you, it was something he thought about from time to time, but those thoughts were never going to see the light of day, “Alright drunky I think it’s time to get you home.”

“You can stay, I’ll just catch a ride with someone,” You waive Matthew off, who shook his head no at you before you even started speaking.

“One, my dad would kick my ass if he knew I left you,” Matthew starts with, holding up one finger with another on the way, “Two, we’re friends now and I’d like to make sure you don’t die before you see a pro game.”

Matthew had seen you this drunk before, but what he didn’t know was that getting you home would be more difficult than he thought. You started in the direction of your house, but apparently you were a runner and a speedy one at that. Now you were barely two blocks away from Matthew’s parents place and if he could at least get you there he’d be able to call it a night - which wasn’t fucking easy.

“Alright I’ve had enough,” Matthew huffs, jogging to catch up with you and scooping you into his arms. You were hanging over his shoulder, Matthew making his way down the street with the house in his sightline. You could have cared less, laughing your ass off while Matthew walked up the stairs and finally placed you back down on your feet, “Be quiet, go up to my room and get some clothes and go sleep in the guest room.”

You weren’t quiet, not at all and Matthew was amazed not one of his parents came down to see what all the chaos was about. After Matthew had to walk you up the stairs, running back down for some water and hoping you weren’t a disaster by the time he got back - he found you in his bed. You were curled up right in the middle, an old London Knights shirt on your body, Matthew’s favorite. Matthew grabs his comforter, throwing it over your body. He sighs, leaning against his door frame and smiling to himself at how comfortable you looked, flicking off the light and retreating to the guest room.

Matthew hated the guest room. He hated how hard the mattress was and after a few hours of no sleep and tossing and turning - he gave up. Matthew hoped no one else was up, but not to his surprise his mother was already in the kitchen, and judging by the look on her face, she knew who was upstairs.

“Care to explain?” Chantal smirks, raising her eyebrows at her son. Matthew’s face got red, his landing on the back of his neck to cover the blush.

“She fell asleep before I could even get her to the guest room,” Matthew shrugs, hoping his mom wouldn’t push it any further, “I, uh, apologized the other day.”

“Good,” Chantal hums, a knowing look on her face. She didn’t like to push Matthew, her one kid who seemed to be a little rougher around the edges than the others, but that silly feud never sat right with her, “Here, bring her a coffee, I’m sure she needs it.”

Matthew nods, grabbing the mug his mother was holding out and starting to make his way up the stairs. He heard the tell her you made it from his mother and shook his head. He knew what she was thinking, especially with the way Chantal seemed to talk about you. His mother thought you were nothing short of perfect, and Matthew would be a liar if he didn’t think the same thing.

“Did I fall asleep here?” You’d woken up confused, your question only answered by the jerseys hanging on the walls, you were in Matthew’s room. You rub your eyes, the door creaking open way too loudly for how dead you felt.

“Only after you almost fell down the stairs and ran three blocks in the wrong direction,” Matthew chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the mug, “You know you’re fast right?”

“Yeah,” You muse, smirking to yourself and taking a sip of coffee, “I’m sorry I did that to you, and stole your bed - I can go.”

Matthew stopped you, telling to finish your coffee and relax and he’d drive you home after. You fell into a comfortable conversation, something Matthew never thought would happen.

And watching you walk up to your steps in his shirt still wasn’t something he thought he’d see, but it was better than he imagined.

***

“Hey it’s Jamie, can’t get to the phone right now…”

You groan, tossing your phone onto your bed and continuing your pace around the room. It was well after midnight, and your sister had been out all night, and past her curfew. Usually you’d cover for her, definitely taking the prize home for the cool older sister who picks her siblings and their friends up from parties. That’s what had you so worried. Sure, Jamie was a teenager and she snuck in a few little white lies with your parents just like you’d done, but Jamie always told you the truth. She’d check in with you more than her parents, letting you know that she’s going to be out late but she’s safe and if she needed anything she knew who to call. You texted sometime around ten, just checking in since it was Saturday and you were sure she had a more riveting social life than yourself. No answer. Then eleven rolled around and you didn’t hear anything, so naturally you double texted and now it’s twelve thirty and you still haven’t heard anything. You cross your arms, looking at your phone as if you could will an answer into existence. You grab it, dialing a number you weren’t even sure would work.

“Hello?” Matthew’s voice appeared on the other side of the line, clear confusion in his voice. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping Matthew would have the answer you wanted to hear so desperately.

“Is my sister at your house?” You ask, biting your lip and throwing on a pair of sweats so you could pick her up and murder her for scaring you like that. You were sure it was innocent, Jamie slept over at Taryn’s all the time, staying up way too late watching movies or when Jamie would hide going to a party from your much stricter parents.

Matthew tells you to give him a minute, and you can hear him walking through the house. By the time you heard a door open and a small fuck under his breath, your stomach dropped, “She was supposed to be home by midnight.”

“Alright, thanks anyways,” You sigh, “Do you know where they might have gone? It’s just, Jamie hasn’t answered me in hours and she usually does even if she’s out past curfew and I’m just-”

“I’ll be at your house in ten,” Matthew says, his keys alright in his hand and his foot halfway out the door. He was more mad than worried, sure his sister was out a party past curfew. Matthew was her biggest brother, and he was far more protective over her than Brady ever could be. He hated when she did this, and Matthew was pissed. You waited on your steps, Matthew car coming into view while you sprung up and practically sprinted into his car.

“You look mad,” You observe, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. You knew why, trying countless times to remind Taryn that her brother loves her and that’s why he’s like that. You thought he could go a little easier on her, but you wouldn’t dare get in the middle of that.

“I am mad,” Matthew grits out, knuckles white on his steering wheel while he drives slowly down the street. You just drove, in hopes you’d find what was obviously a house party and hopes your sisters were inside. You squint, hoping your eyes weren’t fooling you.

“Wait, pull over I think I see my neighbor,” You yell, Matthew’s foot flying on the break and you hop out. You were right, the bright orange tuft of hair you saw was like a miracle, “Hey Henry have you seen my sister?”

“Oh yeah I think she’s still inside,” Henry points to the house behind him, music blasting and a party in full swing, “I think she’s with Taryn.”

Matthew hops out of the car, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house with him. Matthew’s fingers were laced with yours with every step he took, weaving through the crowd in hopes you’d see them. It took three bedrooms and a laundry room until you finally saw Taryn standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, and you pushed past them both to see Jamie with her head in the toilet. She was fine, well she was definitely in deep shit, but it wasn’t the worst thing to stumble upon. You throw her hair up, your attention moving to Matthew yelling at his sister in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you call someone,” Matthew yells, trying so damn hard to not completely snap on his baby sister. Taryn yells that her phone had died and then Jamie got sick and she didn’t know what to do. Of course they didn’t. You were probably more sympathetic, and you knew just how pissed off Matthew could get. You get up, pushing Taryn back into the bathroom and telling her to watch your sister.

“Calm down before you talk to her, please,” You plead, grabbing Matthew’s shoulders, “Besides, I sort of need some help right now.”

There it was. The very moment Matthew realized all along you could’ve been helping him. Your hands were wrapped around his biceps, a finger gently rubbing the skin right under the sleeve of his shirt. Every bit of anger disappeared from his body, a calm feeling replacing it. He knew you were right, and he’d be thankful for it later. Matthew knew he had to do the right thing by you, and he nodded, willing to follow any directions you gave him.

Matthew carried Jamie out of the house, getting both of your sisters in the car and finally heading back to your house. You knew he was still pissed off, a present frown on his face so you just took the chance. Just like he’d done before for you, you grabbed one of his hands from his steering wheel, lacing your fingers together. You caught the smile on his face, your thumb rubbing over his hand while his shoulders seemed to just relax. Once

Matthew finally helped you get Jamie inside, a night of laying on her floor to make sure she was okay ahead of you stood in the doorway with Matthew across from you.

“Thank you, I know we’re working on this friendship thing but you really didn’t have to do that,” You were eternally grateful, wrapping your arms around Matthew’s waist and tucking your head into his chest.

“You’d do the same thing for Taryn,” Matthew hums, knowing full well he definitely owed you for being Taryn’s replacement sibling with him and Brady in Canada for most of the year, “Get some rest okay?”

“Wait,” You stop Matthew, grabbing his hand one more time, “Don’t kill your sister, please she’s just a kid-”

“You’re way too easy on them,” Matthew chuckles, shaking his head at you. He knew Taryn was probably scared, and after he calmed a bit he understood where you were coming from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tell her that if she ever pulls that shit again - he was going to rat her out to their parents.

And when Matthew finally got back in the car, he could see his sister’s grin in the backseat, “Don’t say it.”

She held your hand, are you sure you’re not going to malfunction now?

***

Maybe you were spiraling.

You’d been waiting for this moment your entire life, now you had a few more weeks until camp started and you were afraid. You knew you were good enough, you had to be. But what if you weren’t? You could feel the anxiety settling in, a feeling you hadn’t felt since Matthew told you soccer wasn’t a real sport in fourth grace. It’d been eating at you for weeks, deteriorating any confidence you had left in yourself. So you started pushing yourself even harder. The harder you worked the less like you were to fuck it all up. Your muscles were sore, your body was tired and it was just all becoming too much.

And Matthew noticed.

You were pushing yourself too hard, even the time you were supposed to relax with your families before your seasons started was being spent training. He understood it, the term first round exit lived rent free in his head every single time his skate hit the ice over the summer, but that didn’t make it okay. You looked tired, sluggish while you moved because you were running twice a day and training in between. And he was pissed everyone seemed to be fine with it. You should start working harder then Matthew. If it bothers you so much maybe you could join her. It wasn’t that he was jealous of your work ethic, he was worried. Matthew’s eyes followed you as you ran past his house again. The third time in one day, he’d finally decided he had enough.

Matthew took the walk to your house, charming the pants off your mother for her to tell him you were upstairs because you just got back in. He knocks twice, hearing a come in from the other side.

“What are you doing here?” You question, rolling one of your ankles that just seemed to be getting more swollen every time you started to practice. Matthew noticed it, your hands freezing one you caught his gaze.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Matthew stands his ground, he knew you could have told him to fuck off because no one hates advice they didn’t ask for quite like him, “Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s rich coming from the kid who’s played with more broken bones than anyone I know,” You remind him of a few mistakes Matthew’s made playing through injuries he really shouldn’t, “I’m not fucking frail.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Matthew scoffs, it never once crossed his mind that he thought he was tough enough to play through injuries but you weren’t, “It’s about taking a break so you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m fine,” You huff, getting up and trying your best to hide the pain in your ankle when you stood on it. You fell forward, Matthew catching you in his arms and putting you back down the edge of your bed.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” Matthew asks with soft eyes, he bent down to take your ankle in his hand and inspect it the best he could. It was swelling, probably from the amount of pressure you’d been putting on your body with no breaks.

“What if I never score a goal?” You whisper, teary eyes finally meeting Matthew’s. His brows shot up, alarmed at how one of the best athletes he’s ever seen could feel the same way he felt right before his first NHL game. Matthew sits down next to you, hand on your thigh while you let out a cry, “What if I’m just a bust? Like I get there and nothing works and I suck.”

“You’ll score eventually,” Matthew scoffs, understanding how ridiculous you sounded but just how you felt at the same time, “Everyone does.”

“You scored like four games into your fucking career Matt,” You remind him, Matthew smiling a bit that you knew that to begin with. It would have been impossible not to know, or pretend like you didn’t keep a few tabs on his career. Matthew Tkachuk was a legend in the making, and whether or not you could feel butterflies in your stomach every time he dropped the gloves was a secret you’d take to the grave.

“I got suspended my first season too,” Matthew jokes, a teary eyed laugh escaping your lips, “I’d put down money you score in your first game.”

“Well good thing you have money to lose,” You sigh dramatically, the fear of fucking up still on your mind.

“You’ll find your groove, all legends do,” Matthew promises, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You snuggled into his side, a realization that he was becoming a comforting presence in your life with each passing day, “And if you don’t, you can always hide out in Canada with me.”

“Matty!” The same silly nickname Matthew introduced himself to you on your very first day of kindergarten slipped through your lips without realizing it. Matthew hadn’t been called that in ages, but it was welcome from you. You push his chest, “That’s not making me feel any better.”

“What if I told you the only reason I was so mean to you was because I was intimidated by how talented you were?” Matthew confesses, scratching your head with his fingers, “If I win a cup one day I think I owe you one.”

Matthew didn’t mention that in his wildest fantasies of raising that cup over his head, you were there. He’d owe you one and he hoped it was because you were there for him until he got there. Matthew saw it the same way every time, you’d tell him to go see his parents first but he’d fly right past them to get to you - the person who accidentally pushed him to be his best. He had plenty of daydreams about you winning too, remembering times you used to brag you’d go to the Olympics one day, and he hoped you were right. He wanted to see you succeed, more than anything, and he thought it would work.

“Legally you have to let me drink out of it,” You muse, shutting your eyes and letting yourself just rest against Matthew.

“It has to be Bud Light,” Matthew teases while watching you fake a gag. You grab his outstretched hand, letting him pull you up. His hands rested on the side of your face, eyes flickering to your lips for just a second. He wanted to kiss you, but he knew he had to wait. Wait for you to be ready. Wait for you to settle down. Or even just wait until he thought he had a real shot at forever.

Forever with you.

***

Matthew was kind of pissed off.

The press didn’t bother him, none of that mattered and at the end of the day Matthew was able to sleep at night knowing he was a good teammate and a decent person most of the time. This one got him though, some writer criticizing the A on his jersey, and how someone who plays like he does didn’t deserve a letter.

A letter he earned.

You could tell something was off, the way Matthew had been running alongside you was aggressive to say the least. He insisted he came with you, something about forcing you to take breaks. He was being your friend, even though your sisters seemed to disagree. Taryn’s words were replaying in your head, Matt doesn’t even care if I get hurt. That didn’t mean anything, those two had no idea what love was and Matthew caring about you a little bit didn’t mean he loved you. Besides, the way he was acting right now told a completely different story.

“Are you mad at me?” You finally slow down, sitting on a rock that was next to the hiking trail you were on.

“No?” Matthew stops dead in his tracks, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach that he fucked this up too, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“No, tell me what’s wrong,” You push, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at Matthew. You could tell he was pressed about something, his neck covered in a red flush the same way it used to.

“Some stupid article about my letter, don’t worry about it,” Matthew grits, repeating his words again. His defense was up, even after you confessed to him that you were scared of not being enough.

“Get the fuck out of here with the tough guy act Matthew,” You challenge him, poking him right in the chest, “If we’re going to be friends you need to cut that shit out.”

“You really want to hear it?” Matthew barks back, fully yelling at you, “I’m tired of people thinking I don’t deserve things because I threw a few bad hits. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think you’re shitty? No you don’t, because you’re so fucking perfect that my own parents like you more than me.”

You stood there, silent while you tried to figure out how to tell him that simply wasn’t true. His entire body was shaking, the anger coursing through his veins like you’d seen many times before that. Matthew looked like he did the first time you hit a homerun in gym class, except this time it was because that same pressure never got released. You couldn’t come close to understanding the way he probably felt. You didn’t have the comparables in your own family, the constant reminders of Brady’s points tally compared to his, let alone the career his father had.

“Matty,” You whisper, grabbing his hand and running your fingers over the scars on his knuckles, “Why is this bothering you so much?”

You were sure this wasn’t the first time someone’s said he was a pest, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Matthew sighed, the better part of his brain screaming at him to stop before he lost you too.

“I’ve felt like this forever,” Matthew whispers, eyes fixated on your hand in his, “From the moment I started getting bigger, there’s just been this pressure to play a certain way and act a certain way. I was a fucking kid, and while all of my friends got to go wherever they wanted all I ever did was practice. Then I finally get to where I wanted and I’m still getting shit on.”

“Except no one thinks you don’t deserve to be where you are,” You whisper, quiet words as if you were going to startle him, “And I know it doesn’t make up for things people say, but the people who love you think you deserve it.”

Matthew nods, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his words mumbled against your forehead, “I needed that.”

“I know,” You nod, smiling wide up at him, “And we need to practice more because you’re too slow, soooo catch me if you can!”

You slipped out of his arms, running away with a giggle and a smile. Matthew stopped for a second, his Neanderthal brain checking out your ass while you jogged away and his more logical one trying to process what just happened.

But what mattered most was that whatever you did worked and that meant something to Matthew.

***

Just admit you think he’s hot.

You wanted to kill your sister for making this weekend harder than it had to be. You were doing a good job at just friends with Matthew until Jamie was curled up in your bed while you packed for a lake trip with your friends. She pushed it for hours, rambling on about Matthew is actually your type and Taryn swears he’d be a good boyfriend if someone just understood him. The problem was, you were starting to see her point. Matthew had a glow up a few years ago, like one summer he’d gotten home and you were infatuated with him. It used to annoy you, because he’d been such an ass to you that you hated how attractive he was. Then things changed, and now looking at him was just frustrating you. You were terrified about the way he made you feel, like everything would be okay with one look of those blue eyes and a smirk. You felt like he had your back, a vast change from how you used to feel and it was just getting hard to hide it anymore.

Especially when Matthew looked like he did right now. He was holding himself up on the dock, shoulders broad and glistening in the moonlight above you. All your friends were inside, moving their party away from the water as the night lingered on. You wanted to run your fingers through his wet curls, the temptation was almost too much.

“I’ll be in Chicago a few times you know,” Matthew hums, enjoying the time alone he was getting with you. Anytime without Brady teasing him about what the Tkachuk’s had been referring to as the hand holding incident. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t want you, because he did, but he just needed to move at his own pace.

“You want to come see me play?” You ask, leaning back on the palms of your hands. You were surprised by the kind of man Matthew had become, it was a completely different person that he used to be. He cared so much about his loved ones, and you were starting to feel like maybe you had a place there.

“Actually thinking you could come see me play,” Matthew teases, sarcasm dripping from his words. You lifted your foot up, kicking some of the water below you to splash him, but he’d caught your ankle before you could. He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over your skin, “This looks better.”

“Don’t make you admit you were right,” You whine, Matthew swiftly pulling you into the water with him. You yelp, the water way too cold for any normal person, “It’s freezing.”

“C’mere then,” Matthew grabs your waist, pulling your body against his. His hands were splayed across your back, heat radiating off of them. One of your hands was on his shoulder, your other on his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly, his eyes locked on yours, “Middle school Matthew would be so jealous of me right now.”

“Why’s that?” You hum, running your fingers along Matthew to play connect the dots with the beauty marks on his skin.

“Because he had the biggest crush on you,” Matthew confesses, his grip on you a little tighter, as if he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers again, “But he was too thick headed to do anything about it.”

“What about grown up Matthew?” You ask, biting your lip. Matthew was practically holding you both up in the water, pressed so close together you could hear the hitch in his breath at your question, “Is he too thick headed to do something too?”

You wrapped your legs around Matthew’s waist, pressing your lips to his and tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. He pushed you up against the dock, helping you back up and pulling himself up next to you. You grabbed the back of his neck, latching your lips back on his. His hand was on your back, fingers toying with the back of your bathing suit, “Think we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?”

Matthew was cool most of the time. He never faltered under the pressure from his career, most of the time, and he definitely didn’t fold when it came to a pretty girl. You had him in the palm of your hand, every part of his brain malfunctioning in response to your words. You bit your lip, wondering if you’d read this entire situation. Matthew rubs a thumb along your lip, “When are you going to realize I’d do whatever you asked me to?”

The two of you snuck up the stairs, giggles and stolen kisses left in your wake. You open the door, Matthew’s hands still toying your bathing suit top, “Just take it off already Matty.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Matthew breathes, his lips pressed against your neck while the garment falls to the floor, “So fucking beautiful.”

You back hit the mattress, Matthew’s hands running up your body slowly. Slow wasn’t in Matthew’s vocabulary, but he was taking his time just in case he never got this opportunity again. His fingers hooked under your bathing suit bottoms, sliding the wet fabric down your legs. You looked so beautiful, spread out just for Matthew like he’d dreamed about numerous times. His lips moved down to your breasts, teeth grazing against your skin while his tongue swirled against your nipple. You let out a breathy moan, Matthew’s ego boosting from the sound. You plucked at his curls while his mouth moved down to where you were craving him most, a gentle kiss to your clit, “Matty, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to beg,” Matthew hums, pressing feather light kisses around your core. He stopped, gripping your thighs and looking up at you, “You sure about this?”

“Yes, please,” You whine, pussy dripping from Matthew’s hot breath fanning over it. Matthew chuckles darkly, fingers digging into your thighs when he flicked his tongue over your clit. You moan, completely unbothered by the blaring music a floor below you. Matthew didn’t seem to be bothered either, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit, living for the way you were whimpering above him, “Matty-”

“Close baby?” Matthew groans, slipping a finger inside of you and curling it. You back arched, his name falling through your lips was enough to answer his question. Your legs shook, pleasure washing over your body from Matthew and all of it just felt so right. Matthew’s lips were latched to your skin until he finally met your eyes again. He smiles softly, nudging his nose with yours while you caught your breath, “So good for me.”

“Should’ve known you were that good with your mouth with the way you run it,” You tease smiling against his lips.

“Not with you, not anymore,” Matthew promises, soft blue eyes looking into yours, he meant it. He didn’t know how else to make it clearer, he wanted you. You kissed him slowly, hands trailing down his abs and stopping where his shorts hit his waist. Matthew kicks off his swim trunks, cock springing free. You grab the back of his neck, pulling your lips to his and rolling over top of him and straddling his waist. It was criminal how good you looked on top of him, “Gonna ride me babe?”

You nod, lining his dick up your core and lowering yourself on top of him. You let out a whine, Matthew’s smug smile on full display once he realized it was because of how big he was, “We don’t have to if my dick’s too big.”

“Oh shut up,” You roll your hips, watching the way Matthew’s head fell back, smirking because he really thought he had control here. Matthew’s hands gripped your waist, moving your hips faster. His finger flicked over your clit, causing you to lunge forward on top of him. Matthew flipped you over, wrapping a leg around his waist so he could hit your g-spot. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails leaving scratches Matthew was going to wear pride later. You were seeing stars, noises leaving your throat you’d never even heard yourself make, “Fuck, Matty, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Look at me,” Matthew grabs your chin, pressing his forehead against yours and watching while your eyes roll back with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around him, his own cum spilling into you from the sensation, a loud groan following. Matthew pressed a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried inside of you, “I wasn’t bullshitting you, I mean every word Y/N.”

“Matthew,” You whisper, running a finger along his back, “The distance…”

You didn’t mention everything, the way that if this was real it meant it would end up ripping you both apart. You were set to live in a different city, Matthew all the way in another country. The way your dreams included a spot on the U.S. National team, and the idea that wanting to be with Matthew would hold you back was terrifying. The way his dreams probably meant staying in Calgary forever, a C on his jersey and a cup over his head. It wasn’t going to be easy, you weren’t ever going to be the doting girlfriend he probably needed. There would be years of travel schedules and games that overlapped, and a part of you thought that maybe Matthew wouldn’t be able to do it. You’d get a year in and he’d find someone who would be there more and finally you’d end it.

“We can make it work, baby I want you, I always have and I probably always will,” Matthew starts, baring his soul to another person for the first time in his goddamn life, “I want to support your dreams and have you be there for mine. I’m all in here, I don’t know how else to tell you.”

“Can I have some time?” You plead, holding onto Matthew’s shoulders because you knew he could leave and tell you to never speak to him again. Matthew sighs, understanding the way you were shitting yourself about starting your own professional career, remembering the way rookie Matthew would have died before he considered settling down that first year, “Please don’t leave me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Matthew promises, rolling over and letting your rest on his chest, “I’ll wait for you.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him. Matthew didn’t sleep a minute that night, running every single scenario that could possibly happen with the two of you. Matthew was sure it would work out, it had to, because if it didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover.

So now all he could was wait.

***

You know this is creepy right?

Matthew stares at Sam, punching his teammate in the arm lightly and telling him to shut up. He had a night off in Chicago, and after four straight hours of staring at your contact in his phone, Matthew finally just bought the tickets. He’d been good at keeping his distance, you needed space and he respected you enough to try and give it to you. He wasn’t doing so hot, Matthew consuming more soccer games than hockey games at this point. It started with your first game, because how was he supposed to just pretend like it wasn’t happening? You scored too, and it took everything in his power not to call you to tell you that not only was he right, he was insanely proud of you.

And he’d been hearing it from everyone. Your sister thought it was bullshit, Taryn and Jamie almost had Matthew on a flight to Chicago ready to show up like a terrible Lifetime movie. Brady thought it was hilarious the way Matthew was simping like this for one girl. Now, his teammates were on him, wondering why on Earth their friend who historically ran through women faster than he did mouthguards could be this hung up on someone he had a crush on in middle school.

“What number is she?” Sam asks, sipping the beer he forced Matthew to buy after making him go along with this.

“Nineteen,” Matthew smiles, pointing down at you on the field. You looked so happy, warming up with one of your teammates and a bright smile on your face. It seemed like a good fit, your team and your new city, and it made Matthew’s heart grow four sizes.

“Did she choose your number?” Sam jokes and Matthew mumbles something under his breath, “What?”

“It was her number first,” Matthew admits, not wanting to ever confess to another soul that you crossed his mind when he kept that camp number. Sam howled next to him, leaning over his seat and cracking up at his teammate.

You looked out in the crowd about halfway through the game, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t seeing things. That tuft of curls was hard to miss, not to mention you knew just how big Matthew was. He was far too into the game to realize you caught him, up in arms about a call against your team that was valid but he’d argue it wasn’t. You asked for space, and it was getting harder to stick to your guns. Especially when he was making it so clear that he wanted this.

And whether or not you went to his game the next night, was a secret you’d take to the grave.

***

You were so close you could have tasted it.

While the final seconds of your season came to a close, all you could do was hold your head in your hands and hope no one caught the tears. A semi-final loss was devastating, but a semi-final loss where there wasn’t anything you could have done differently was even worse. Every athlete had off nights, a point Keith pushed right before you left to start your season, and he was right. Unfortunately, that was this game. Your biggest fear had come true and there was nothing you could do about it now. The game was over and you weren’t moving on.

And Matthew watched it.

Matthew promised you space, and he swore he’d give you the time you needed to settle down. But, this was something he couldn’t ignore. He could tell you were off, your entire rookie season was almost perfect and watching the way you folded during this game was gut wrenching. Matthew knew better than anyone, losing sucked. So he took the chance, grabbing his phone and shooting you a text he’d been waiting to send.

Doors open in Calgary.

and I’m so fucking proud of you.

It was the very last text you saw before you went to bed that night, tossing and turning for a few hours thinking about that loss. You couldn’t stop, every bone in your body was aching and you didn’t know what to do. So you bought a flight, packed your shit and was walking down the hallway to Matthew’s apartment without a second thought. You’d left him on read, calling Brady in the middle of the night and asking for his address, who gave it to you reluctantly with a reminder that if you needed to see him this badly you should rethink the needing time thing.

Matthew let out a groan when he had a bang at his door at three in the morning. Noah definitely was trying to walk into the wrong apartment again, and Matthew was grouchy when he whipped his door open. Except it wasn’t Noah after he’d had too many. It was you, teary eyed with your shit in a suitcase and a broken heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” You admit, whispering something you never thought you’d say to anyone, “I just didn’t do enough-”

Matthew didn’t say a word, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and holding you as tightly as he could. You didn’t need to hear it from him, about how things were out of your control and you did your best. You didn’t want that right now, you wanted him, “Baby…”

“Everything hurts,” You whimper, finally just letting it all out. You were bruised and battered from the season, the physical pain alone was enough to upset you, let alone the loss you just took. Matthew carded his fingers through your hair, letting you soak his bare chest with your tears because he wouldn’t have it any other way. You came back to him. You came back to him when things got too tough because you trusted him to bring you some peace, and he was happy about it.

You passed out sometime after that, your tears finally running dry and the exchaustion taking over your body. Matthew woke up early the next day, grateful for the optional morning skate so he could stay with you for just a little bit longer. The sun was just starting to peek through the curtains in his room, a calm snowy morning in Calgary so the city was just a bit quieter.

Matthew settled on breakfast, working away in his kitchen with the only thing he knew how to make. Tell her you made it, his mom’s words from just a few months prior in his head while he cooked. You padded out his bedroom, one of Matthew’s god awful beer shirts hanging from your frame while you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his back, “It’s cold here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Matthew hums, internally pumping his fist when he felt your lips form a smile against his skin. You turned your head, pressing your cheek against his against and letting out a laugh, “What’s so funny?”

“You framed my jersey?” You ask, your eye catching a jersey that was way too familiar. It was hung up beside Matthew’s from his first all star game, both number nineteens staring back at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite player,” Matthew hums, a blush covering his cheeks, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You keep saying that,” Matthew finally turns around, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

“I’ll keep saying it long after we both retire,” Matthew speaks, words clear and sure because he’s had plenty of time to practice this one, “I’ll say it when you win a World Cup gold, I’ll say it when we have kids, I’ll say when you play at the Olympics. I’m going to say it over and over again.”

“But…” You trail off, all of those same demons you’d been fighting when it came to your whatever this was with Matthew, “What I’m not around enough for you?”

Matthew knew what you were thinking about, he’d thought about it plenty too. There were countless sleepless nights where all he did was wonder if you’d find someone in Chicago who could support you better than he could. He’d do his best, he swore he would, but in order for you to be happy, your passion came first. There was always going to be times when he couldn’t be there and it killed him.

“You’re more than enough,” Matthew promises, his lips ghosting over yours, “I want you to seize every opportunity in the world, I just want to be there to tell you that I love you and use the goat emoji on Instagram when you do.”

You let out a laugh, Matthew’s smile wide enough to see his dimples you loved so much, “I think I want to stay a little while.”

“I think you should,” Matthew agrees, capturing your lips in his, “Besides I’m playing tonight and I think I need to show off now.”

“You’re a cocky asshole.”

“But now I’m your cocky asshole.”

***

One year Later

You had a good reason to be late.

You swore Matthew couldn’t possibly be mad at you for this one. You’d missed your flight to Calgary, a few days post a second loss in the semi finals that you’d been taking much better this time around. Mainly because Matthew wasn’t there, but his stupid smile and words of encouragement where there on facetime hours later. That wasn’t the reason you were late, the reason you were late was because you’d received the most insane news of your life and it was an important phone or that flight. You’d caught the next one, legs shaking not to just call him and share the news, but you needed to tell him in person.

You’d finally gotten by the doors to the locker room entrance, out of breath from spriting there from your cab. There was Matthew, tapping his phone and staring at the clock on his phone with furrowed eyebrows. He was still in his suit, tie pulled a little looser, a nervous habit you realized he had some time ago, “Matty-”

“Don’t call me that just because you know you’re late,” Matthew huffs, already ready for the pout that would have followed so he’d forget all about the fact that you promised you’d make it on time. He holds his hand out, waiting for the handshake he made up in the car on the way to the first game you went to after he finally locked it down. You laugh, slapping your hand against his and letting him pull you closer for a kiss.

“They want me on the National Team,” You mumble against his lips, the words spilling out of your mouth when you pull away with an excited smile. Matthew stood there stunned, while you shuffled your feet in the little dance you did when you were really happy. He grabs your cheeks, pressing kisses to your lips again and again.

“We’re celebrating after this, holy shit,” Matthew cheers, still stunned by your news, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, now go score a few goals so we have even more to celebrate,” You kiss him one more time, pushing him before the door before he was late.

“Anything I do seems unimportant now!” Matthew calls out, a light laugh to his voice as he watched you walk away to go sit in the stands.

And that’s how Matthew thought it should be.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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bcdwhcre · 4 years

Note

hiii hope your having an amazing day :) do you make headcanons? if you do and if you don't mind can i request headcanons for Izuku, Bakugo, and Denki about being in a secret relationship (i really love your stories about characters being in a secret relationship) and them accidentally outing their relationship because something happened (you can choose what happened) thank you so much!! also if you dont do headcanons you can choose one from the three on the imagine ❤️ I'm sorry if this is confusing 😅

“Secret Relationships,” Midoriya, Bakugou and Denki headcanon

YES IM GLAD YOU REQUESTED THIS UGH, I gotta do my sweet baby Bakugou first🥺

Summary: having a secret relationship with one of the guys and it’s get leaked.

Each section would probably be a little short, I apologize in advance🥺

Warnings: none!

Bakugou:

The relationship between you and Bakugou was always strange but once the students had to move on campus in the dorms, it turned into a whole different story.

The secret meetups late at night in his room, turned into nothing more than a secret relationship. The way your sleep schedule was beyond screwed up from being up late in his room and having to wake up early to go back to your room before anyone noticed.

It had been going on for months so by now you were used to the secrets and sneaking around along with barely having any sleep the next day while in class.

The more the relationship progressed, the more Bakugou would steal quick glances at you and even when you were in the kitchen with the other students, he would purposely slide behind you and touching your back in the process.

One day in particular, the class had decided to have a game night and he wasn’t too thrilled about joining in. He had tried to convince you to come back to his room but you had told him it would make things obvious if only the two of you were absent.

He huffed, at this point he didn’t really care about the class nor their opinions on anything. He was a ball of fire afterall so when he saw you sitting with the class as they gathered up board games, he was over with keeping things a secret, he wanted it to be known that you were his and he wanted you upstairs in his room.

“I don’t wanna play this stupid game night.” Bakugou said in front of everyone but he was directing it towards you and you tried to ignore him.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to be here dude.” Kirishima patted his back, sitting down at the table and he huffed out a breath dramatically, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m not talking to any of you idiots.. Y/N.” He said your name sternly, like he was giving you a direct order by the look of his red eyes.

“Why are you so worried about Y/N being here with us?” One of the classmates mentioned and you had cursed under your breath, Bakugou was acting like a child.

“Because I want my girlfriend upstairs with me.” Bakugou angrily said, everyone growing quiet and you had gulped the lump in your throat, well there goes the secret.

Everyone’s eyes had landed on you and your cheeks turned a dark shade of red before you slide the chair back and stood up. You have never felt this embarasssed in your life, he could’ve done this any other time in a completely different way but of course the asshole had to make everything a big deal.

“No way,” Denki mumbled, trying to hold the laugh that was begging to come out.

You dismissed yourself, walking over to where Bakugou was and punched his arm as hard as you could, cursing under your breath and he smirked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders, winking back at the rest of the class.

“God, you’re so fucking embarrassing, Katsuki.” You muttered, following him to the elevator to go up and he tugged you closer.

“Oh shut up, you love it.”

As you two waited for the elevator, you couldn’t help the feel the classes eyes on the both of you. It was even more humiliating as you had to wait for the doors to slide open. You heard a few of them whisper about you two being a thing, some had mentioned how obvious it was and some mentioned had you two were complete opposites.

Bakugou obviously didn’t care, instead he liked to annoy everyone, especially you. So hearing people whisper about had fed onto the asshole ego he had, making his large hand grab your chin and give you a rough kiss on the lips in front of everyone.

The way your face was completely red at this point and all he did was give the classmates a evil grin before dragging you into the elevator and pushing the button for his floor.

“Why can’t you ever be casual?”

“Do you not know me? I’m far from casual.” He nudged you gently, laughing at your tomato red face and moved his thumb to brush across your cheek.

“Yeah, clearly.”

Denki:

You had a crush on Denki for what seemed like forever. Since the first moment you met him on the first day of school till now. It was pretty obvious how much you liked him. Eventually you became bold enough to ask him to hang out.

Now you two have been dating for only a few weeks, you both had agreed to keep it private to enjoy the privacy and the time alone before the classmates end up finding out.

Of course you knew Denki a little too well at this point, you knew he would end up slipping up the secret sooner or later but it didn’t entirely bother you that it’ll happen.

And you were right, after a training exercise and having to go through some obstacle course that Aizawa had set up, he had sparked a fuse and as his brain suffered a shortage, his mouth had instantly opened and talked about you.

You couldn’t help but be over protective when he did go through that shortage phase, quickly taking care of him and making sure he was comfortable was a habit you picked up.

“So pretty.” He muttered as he reached for you in front of everyone and you froze in your place until he had wrapped his arms around you, clinging onto your body.

Your cheeks flushed, grabbing onto his body and holding him up straight so he didn’t lose his balance. He continued to mutter words like how you’re so pretty and he even slipped up how he was lucky to have you.

“Aww, Denki is in love.” Sero had laughed at his state, making you roll your eyes and become more protective.

“Nothing wrong with that.” You admitted, stroking your fingers through his hair and dragged him over to sit down.

His head had rested on top of yours, his tall frame giving you a tight hug and you had choked on the air you were breathing on from how openly clingy he was acting in front of the entire class including Mr. Aizawa.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” Midoriya had teased, the smirk on his face made you grow embarrassed.

“No.”

“Yes, we are.” Denki cut you off, his arms still around yours and the goofy smile on his face only got bigger.

“Y/N is mine. Only mine, I don’t want to see- I don’t want to see any of you near... what’s mine.” He managed to stumble out, his face turning blank like he had forgotten what he was talking about.

“Jesus,” You laughed, putting your hand over his mouth, glancing at your classmates.

You stayed quiet, dragging him away from the rest of the class and forced him to drink some water and sit down on a chair to relax until he went back to his normal state.

You will admit that he was cute and the way he openly told everyone what was his, which was you, had made your heart flutter.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Denki.”

“Am I?”

Midoriya:

It had taken forever for Izuku to catch onto your hints on liking him and wanting to hang out with him more. Of course he was very oblivious and didn’t catch on for weeks, even months before you got frustrated and had been straight forward with him.

The both of you being completely shy balls made everything a lot more difficult, the hints he threw at you and the hints your threw at him had completely flew over both of your heads, it was quite ridiculous.

You knew Midoriya wasn’t going to make the first move, you knew he was too big of a anxiety nut to even be bold enough to tell you to your face that he likes you in ways that was more than friends. So you did it on your own.

It hadn’t even been a week of you two officially dating until Izuku slipped it up to Todoroki when ranting about how amazing you were and how much he loved watching your quirk in action.

Once he had revealed the secret, he had told Todoroki to keep his mouth shut and not talk about it again but later that day, Izuku slipped up to another one of your classmates, Ashido.

It wasn’t long until he had slipped up to the whole entire class and now everyone knew that you two were a fresh couple. The side comments the students would make to you both and embarrass the both you, making the shyness in you two grow and cause you to stutter to no end.

“I think you two are cute!” Ashido had mentioned, trying to assure you that it wasn’t a big deal that everyone already knew.

“You knew Midoriya can’t keep a secret for long.” She commented, making you laugh and agree to what she said.

You couldn’t blame him though, he was a little too excited to be dating his crush that he couldn’t help but talk about you constantly to all his friends. He couldn’t help but stare at you and want to talk about how pretty you are and the characteristics he liked most about you.

It was in his nature, he was proud and lucky that he just had that urge to tell the whole world about you and it made butterflies explode in your stomach and it also made you want to kiss him desperately but you decided to not do that in front of everyone.

“I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want to tell anyone right away.” He mumbled towards you, the look of guilt washing over his features and you shook your head, embracing him in a tight hug.

“Don’t be sorry! I’m glad you told people.”

ANNND finished, I’m sorry it’s short. I usually go longer when it’s one character at a time but I hope it’s good🤧

PLSSSS send in more my hero requests!! I’m obsessed

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elena-reina · 3 years

Text

You’re Done - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: Can I get a bucky imagine where the reader messes up really badly on a mission, can she have fire powers, and bucky is there for her in the end. Maybe like a friends to lovers kind of vibe? Thank you! Love you!- Anon

Warnings: none

a/n: [For the sake of this imagine my bby Pietro is alive for his two seconds of fame ;)] There will be a pt 2. Idk when, but eventually.

“I need you all to lay low,” Steve’s voice spoke through the earpiece.

“Copy,” you along with the other Avengers said into the intercom in unison.

You have gone on many missions with the Avengers, however, this one was different. Most of the ones you’ve experienced were small track and point ones. Nothing like this where it was a life or death situation.

You had to capture one of the men named Azazel. He had vital information that was going to help the team out on a lead for the rest of the mission. You were a powerful asset to the team. The only issue was how much you underestimate yourself.

For weeks you had been training your powers and learning to keep them under control. There had been many incidents where you accidentally caused the sprinklers to go off at the tower for reasons we shall not speak of. But let’s just say they were all minor setbacks in your progress.

The team loved having you go on missions with them, but most of the time Steve wanted you to stay back at the tower and continue to train. You underestimate your powers and It took you many days to convince him to bring you on this specific mission. It wasn’t until you had a one on one with him that he finally gave in.

You had all the weight of the world on your shoulders. However, the adrenaline masked all the doubts running laps throughout your mind.

“I can see four of the guards standing by the door.. and I think a couple more on the other side of the building,” Wanda said slyly moving around the compound unseen.

“Could you at least try to make an effort to stay hidden,” Tony groaned, maneuvering around in the sky. “I can literally see your red head from here.”

“Listen Stark, you’d be caught long before I am,” Wanda smirked, sassily.

You softly chuckled to yourself.

“No, you listen Maximoff-” Tony began before Pietro cut him off.

“In all honesty, you’re not that witty Tony. Sorry, not sorry.”

“You know I don’t appreciate this slander on my title,” Tony mumbled.

While they bickered back and forth, you noticed one of the guards waving at the men to go inside the building. You ducked down when one of the men gave one last look around the area and went inside.

“They’re going inside,” you announced.

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do,” Steve commenced going over the mission.

After listening to the entirety of Steve’s plan, you felt like there were some flaws in it. Naturally, you had your own plan in your head. Steve wanted everyone to go inside unnoticed and basically move around incognito. You, on the other hand, wanted to do it the old-fashioned way and all gang up together because there were more of you guys than there were of them. Or so you thought.

Sneaking inside the facility, you hid behind boxes and waited as Wanda and Pietro were the first ones to begin. Wanda would use her powers to mess with the men’s minds and make them fall asleep while Pietro would move their bodies to somewhere outside away from the rest of the Avengers. The building was old and looked like it could fall apart at any given moment.

Everything was going smoothly until one of the men, who had gone unnoticed by the rest of you, punched you harshly having you slam into the wall, sending an immediate alert to the people inside.

Clint and Natasha took awareness of this immediately and rushed by your side, but it was like the man had a vendetta on your head. He was overpowering all three of you and none of you understood how. Everyone was in full combat mode, and soon enough, almost a full army of them was coming out in groups. There was more of them than you thought there were.

Your fire powers were flowing out of your hand as you disintegrated any daggers or weapons they would try and throw your way. By this point, you were growing irritated and were having enough of this nonsense.

“Tell us where Azazel is!” you shouted holding one of the men up by the collar of his shirt. He smirked and pulled out a machine from the back of his pocket. You looked at it confused until you noticed a timer on it fastly counting down.

Your eyes widened.

“There’s a bomb in here!” you shouted into your earpiece.

“We’ll get this under control. Y/N, Bucky, and Clint get everyone out now!” Tony responded, already using his suit to find and defuse the bomb.

You were about to respond when you caught something out of the peripheral vision of your eye. You saw a door that was left cracked opened and decided to do a little digging for yourself. Looking around at the Avengers busy, you slipped away and entered the room. Silently closing the door, you moved behind a big crate to remain hidden.

Inside, you noticed a man dressed in all black with his back to you. You bet this was Azazel.

“Y/N, where are you!” Steve yelled into the earpiece.

You knew that you had to respond to Steve, but doing that would compromise your position. Without saying anything, you made a B-line towards the man.

“HEY!” you shouted, as who you assumed was Azazel, frighteningly looked up. He pushed boxes of glass out of his way and started to run. You weren’t going to leave him that easily and every place he tried to dodge into, you would blast up with your powers.

Picking up speed, you threw a firebolt at him hitting him in the back causing him to fall to the ground. You slowly sauntered over to him, a small triumphant grin on your face.

“Tell me what you know!” you fiercely shouted. Feeling bold, you had him exactly where you wanted. However, that confidence you once had faltered as his face then fell into a smirk. He pulled out a cylindrical device with a red button on top of it.

“Y/N! Do you copy!” Steve yelled again.

Ignoring Steve, you quickly extending your hand out to grab the device out of his hands but instead, you accidentally triggered your powers and blasted out an uncontrollable flame you’ve never seen or done before.

Azazel let out an excruciating scream of agony and the device slipped out of his hand. He was being burned alive.

“Oh no no no! What’s happening?!” you freaked, trying to get your powers under control. The flames emerged from your hands and began to consume everything within its path. It had a mind of its own and it was determined to burn everything to ashes.

Your screams rang throughout the room and Tony busted through the wall, frantically looking around. His eyes landed on you and the fire coming out of your palms.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Y/N STOP!” Tony yelled, wanting to get close enough to grab you, but the heat coming from the flames was too much, even for his suit. If anyone came close, they would have gotten burned as well. Pietro followed suit next to him.

You tried to stop them and bent down trying to grab onto Azazel, but this only made matter worse. It wasn’t until you felt a knife slice through the side of your arm, distracting you, that the fires coming from your hand died down.

You brought your hands up to your face horrified. His face and body were burned beyond recognition. You slumped to your knees and grabbed his lifeless corpse with one of your hands. His blood pooled out of his burnt clothes, coating your hands in warm crimson.

Looking further down his arm, you grabbed the device that was now barely holding together and looked at the odd wiring.

He was bluffing. It was a fake only to intimidate you.

“The bomb is going to go off! Everyone out-”

An ear-shattering explosion began to erupt throughout the facility before he could finish. For the most part, everyone was already on their way to the outside.

Pietro took awareness of you being out of it and quickly scooped you up into his arms and sped out of the exploding building. All of you had made it just in time before the entire building was already engulfed in flames. Pietro safely placed you down and grabbed onto your shoulders.

“Hey, are you alright?”

You nodded still shaken up.

“We almost fucking had him!” Tony exclaimed frustrated. “Let’s go.”

The ride back was silent. You had ruined the whole mission. You were mentally beating yourself up with a war inside your brain.

Why couldn’t you have just listened?

Back at the Avenger’s Tower, Steve ordered you to meet him at the office. You knew that whatever was coming wasn’t going to be good.

“Y/N, do you realize what you’ve just done?” Steve groaned, angrily placing his hands on the table in front of him. You looked around the room and at your hands that were covered in Azazel’s dried blood. You didn’t know that you were being set up. As a matter of fact, you didn’t even know that your powers had that much potential.

“I.. I didn’t mean to I was just-” you whispered, backing up to create some distance between you and Steve.

“You ruined the whole mission, Y/N! I told you that you were not ready!” he snapped, making your head jerk towards his direction. You opened your mouth to form words, but nothing came out. If you would have just had a moment to collect your thoughts, you would be better at articulating yourself.

“If you would just let me explain myself!” you shouted growing frustrated with overwhelming emotion, you felt your body getting hot. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to calm the fire inside of you, quite literally.

Steve placed his hands on his hips and disapprovingly shook his head.

“You’re done.”

Your chest felt like it plummetted twenty feet underground. Despite the fire running through you, you felt your body grow cold. You had been training countless nights just to get where you are. There were so many things you wanted to say, while at the same time, you had nothing to say.

What was there to say anyway?

“What?” you managed to breathe out.

“Just go, Y/N.”

Steve then walked past you, leaving you standing in the middle of the complex. You clenched your fists and turned on your heel. You needed to get out. To blow off some steam before you burned the whole building down.

You rushed down the stairs, down every elevator, and all the way down to the empty field in front of the Avenger’s Tower near the aircraft. You felt the flames wanting to come out of your hands, but you tried your best to suppress them. Frantically looking around, you finally spotted a metal storage container.

Running inside, you shut the door and dropped to your knees finally letting the flames ignite. You cried your feelings out, this time not holding back. The flames engulfed the entire space.

A small part of you was fearful about not being able to contain it, but you knew you had to let it go. No one in this compound listens to you. It’s like they just want to keep you here to stay out of the way.

Was it for your benefit or theirs?

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts, but you didn’t bother to turn around. Not that it would have mattered at this point. After releasing your emotions, you took a cold shower to cool off before coming back to your room at the Tower. The tower seemed empty. There was a stale stillness in the air that could be cut with a knife.

You couldn’t help but feel that everything was your fault. If you had just been able to stop underestimating yourself, maybe things would have happened differently. Or if you would have maybe just trained a bit more.

The door clicked signifying that someone was entering your room.

“Hey, mind if I come in?”

You turned around, lifting your gaze as your eyes fell on the handsome soldier before turning back around to face the window. There was nothing to be said. You and Bucky had always had this unspoken bond since the day you joined the Avengers. Whenever you were having a bad day, he was always there to talk about it and vice versa. Was there more underneath the surface than the two of you would like to acknowledge? Yes.

You watched as the trees flowed in the wind looking as peaceful as it could be, the opposite of how you were feeling.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He closed the door behind him and trudged next to you. He pulled up a chair and sat down, mirroring your actions by gazing outside the window.

“What’s there to talk about?” you dismissed.

“No one is blaming you,” he said, leaning back in the seat and crossing his arms over his chest.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Oh really,” you mumbled, “I’m sure Steve would beg to differ.”

Gossip spreads like wildfire throughout the Tower and there was no way that anyone was going to be oblivious to what was going on. There was no easy way to sugar coat it. You fucked up and Steve knew this would happen. It’s plain and simple.

“Steve is just upset right now and will get over it. The mission was already a work in progress, to begin with. I don’t know exactly what went down, but your powers are stronger than you realize and with just a little bit more training-”

“Stop!” you shouted, standing up. Your chair fell behind you with a loud thud. Bucky jerked his head at your outburst but remained seated. He knew you were overwhelmed and wasn’t going to invalidate how you were feeling.

“No one listens to me! I was doing what I thought was right! I didn’t realize what I was doing until it was too late. It doesn’t matter how much ‘training’ I do, no one is there to help me!”

“And you have every right to feel that way. No one is blaming you, things happen. We live and we learn. It a part of life, Y/N. I recognize that I will never understand the struggles you are going through, but I can try.”

“Don’t patronize me, Buck,” you frowned. Truth be told, you just wanted someone to appreciate you.

This time, he stood up and placed both hands on either side of your shoulders. “I’m not. Look, how about we go out tonight to get your mind off things. Then, when you’re feeling better, we can discuss a plan to talk it out with the rest of the team.”

“They’re not going to listen to me.”

“I’ll make sure they listen, okay? Now, go get dressed before I dress you myself. You’ve got thirty minutes,” he winked pulling you in for a hug, to which you gladly returned.

Maybe you do need a night out.

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adhd-disaster-willie · 4 years

Text

Seventeen and strung out on confusion; chapter 1/4

Summary: Just some snippets of backstory for the one and only Alex Mercer; aka my comfort character. Each moment will have a date attached so you can understand the timeline. Angst with fluffy found family moments :)

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing

---

As I’m sure you could guess, there are numerous problems that come with being the only out gay kid at your school in 1994. It’s not so bad if you keep your head down and persuade your friends not to get into a fight with everyone who throws a slur your way, but regardless. That pink hoodie that you’ve been wearing since you were 14 and is honestly too small at this point but your parents refuse to buy you another one? Well it’s a target on your back and apparently everyone at the school is now a professional archer. Or at least, they’re all very proficient in the art of unoriginal insults that cut deeper than they should. All of this is to say, don’t come out to your religious parents in 1994. Ever.

---

Alex Mercer was born into a perfect nuclear family, in a two story house with a white picket fence, brick columns, and a clean cut yard that was unsettlingly green. His parents were as religious as anyone could get; straight-laced, good Catholic parents who kept their hands tight around Alex’s shoulders. He went to church every Sunday and tried to ignore the way his neck itched from the too-tight collar and his mother swatting at his hands until he had to sit on them to refrain from drumming on the nearest surface. He was good at hiding the way he payed undivided attention to his little sister’s ballet classes, good at pretending to stare at the girls in the hallways that all his friends drooled after, and especially good at convincing everyone that he drummed and sang to… impress said girls. Right. But unfortunately, Alex was even better at accidentally outing himself a day into the New Year, consequentially losing all of his parents’ affection.

He didn’t even exist to them anymore. Maybe it would’ve been better if they’d given him a million restrictions and curfews and basically chained his hands together, because this was unsettling. And lonely. Family dinners were a thing of the past, and he’d really begun to sympathize with Reggie and his microwaved, half-cold meals every morning and night. But it could always be worse. They hadn’t kicked him out… yet.

---

January 25, 1994

“Alex, dude!”

Alex flinched upon realizing Reggie’s hand waving in front of his face. He looked up and smiled guiltily, realizing the way he’d frozen, spaced out staring at the wall and absentmindedly hitting his sticks against his legs with a beat that didn’t at all match the song they were supposed to be rehearsing.

Luke sighed, wiping the pout off his face. “Alex, come on man! We aren’t gonna get any gigs if you keep…” He waved his hands vaguely and slapped Alex’s shoulder. “Just, pay attention dude.”

“Right,” Alex replied, his voice strained. He was staring down at his shoes and he could feel his bandmates having a silent conversation above his head which he could only deduce Luke was not happy with, probably meaning they were stopping rehearsal. He didn’t want them to stop for him; it made him feel like a burden, and Luke was right, if they were gonna make it anywhere, they had to be all in.

“Alex, you okay?” Reggie asked, his eyebrows knit together in concern.

Alex nodded briefly and kept his gaze trained on his feet. His sneakers were too small and he had to curl his toes in for them to fit but he was afraid of the reaction he’d get from telling his parents he needed something.

“It’s not one of those homophobic jackasses again, right?” Bobby asked, moving closer, his eyes narrowing. “I swear, this time I will cave Josh’s fucking face in-”

“It’s not!” Alex clarified, finally lifting his head. “It isn’t…” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look it’s just my parents alright? They…”

Reggie’s eyes widened and he began fiddling with his flannel sleeves. “They didn’t… they didn’t hurt you did they?” He asked, his voice small.

“No, no they didn’t hurt me… not physically at least.” He laughed ruefully. “They’re just being stupid, alright? Ignoring me like they have for the past 3 weeks.” Alex stood up, well aware that at this point band practice was a thing of the past. He walked to the couch, the other three boys in tow.

“Hey!” Luke elbowed Alex’s side before throwing an arm over his shoulders. “That new Green Day album is coming out in like, a week.” He grinned, eyes lighting up. “I’ve been saving up to buy it, and we can use that new cassette player I got for Christmas to listen to it.”

Alex nodded, smiling softly and letting his head relax on the back of the couch. “Yea that sounds great. Promise you won’t listen to it without us?”

“Of course ‘Lex; we all gotta be there to find which songs we’re gonna cover.”

Reggie wrinkled his nose in confusion. “I thought you said we’d moved past being a cover band?”

“It’s Luke, he’ll make an exception for anything if it involves Green Day,” Bobby chuckled.

Several beats of silence passed in which the sun seemed to get increasingly lower in the sky, before Bobby sighed in resignation. “You’re all staying here tonight, aren’t you?”

Luke beamed, clapping Bobby’s shoulders. “You know us so well.”

“Sleepover!” Reggie laughed, pumping a fist in the air. “Does it count as a sleepover if we all basically live here at this point?”

“Shhh ‘Lex, don’t ruin our fun,” Luke responded.

Alex smiled hesitantly. Yea, he was okay.

---

May, 1994

Michael Williams had dark hair brushing the tips of his shoulders, eyes that were almost golden in certain lights and a smile that gave Alex butterflies. Not to mention he was in theater and had a reputation for flipping off the homophobic jocks that were constantly on Alex’s tail. Not that he did it specifically for Alex, but still. The only problem was that talking to cute boys that he hadn’t known since 3rd grade was far from Alex’s strong point.

“Come on Alex!” Luke groaned, sliding into the last open seat at their lunch table. “Just talk to him before I literally combust.” He punctuated his sentence by waving at Alex with a cold french fry.

Alex grumbled something, his face in his arms in a futile attempt to hide the red dusting his cheeks.

“Hey Luke, if you explode because Alex refuses to talk to his crush, can I have your CD’s?” Reggie quipped, a lopsided grin on his face.

Luke gasped in mock offense. “Reginald-!”

“Still not my name.”

“I will be buried with my music,” Luke said. “Both of my guitars too-”

“Even your amp?” Bobby questioned.

“Yes.”

“Seems like a waste of space. Can you even fit all that in a coffin?”

Luke shrugged. “You guys can figure it out. Don’t betray my dying wish.”

Something that would’ve been silence had Luke ever been taught how to chew like a normal person passed over the table, in which Alex’s attention drifted lazily back to Michael Williams, who was chatting enthusiastically with one of the girls in his theater class. Alex didn’t know her name but they had biology together and she never gave him dirty looks, so he liked her.

“10 bucks if you go talk to him,” Bobby said, nudging Alex and waggling his eyebrows.

“No. No,” Alex said. “Not happening.”

“15.”

“Where is this money coming from?” Alex squeaked, although the prospect of $15 was all too tempting. He could get some decent shoes for that.

“20,” Bobby continued, grinning maniacally.

“Dude!” Luke laughed. “How are your parents gonna like you asking for money to fulfill a bet?”

Bobby slapped a hand over Luke’s mouth.

“I’m gonna regret this,” Alex sighed, already moving to stand up.

Reggie giggled like a child and offered a shit-eating grin to Alex, who promptly flipped him off before heading across the cafeteria.

---

December 17, 1994

Alex was screwed. No. Alex was completely fucked. Alex Mercer was likely seconds away from living in a ditch. Because of course it had to be his sister who caught him making out with a guy after school. And of course she was too young to understand why she couldn’t tell Mom and Dad. Because she would’ve done the same if he’d been kissing a girl because kissing is gross and it’s funny to tell your parents that your big brother was kissing someone.

“Hey Mom, guess what Alex did today?” Angie asked, giggling. She was perched on the counter, licking frosting from her fingers while their mother brushed cookie crumbs from her dress. And Alex was frozen at the top of the stairs, crouched down, his heart pounding so loud he was sure it could be heard downstairs. He dug his nails into his palms and prayed that his mother would pretend he didn’t exist when he wanted her to. It was one thing, them knowing. But this? This was something else. Alex’s parents lived on the philosophy that homosexual thoughts got you an eternity in hell, but homosexual actions got you shunned and thrown out. So yea, he was screwed.

“What did Alex do today?” His mother asked, plastering a false smile onto her face, her voice sounding like she was already packing his bags. Alex wanted to get up and run. He wanted to go to his room and jump out the window and fly away. But it was like the sweat on his palms was superglue keeping him stuck to the carpet, and his brain had short-circuited.

Angie laughed again, trying to get it out through her snickering. “Alex was kissing someone today.” She sang, her small feet swinging back and forth, the noise of her heels against the counter like knives in Alex’s ears. “That boy Michael that used to go to our church.” The innocence in her voice made Alex ache.

“Angie.” His mother’s voice was cold now. “Leave please.”

Angie’s brow furrowed in confusion, but she scurried up the stairs anyway, giving Alex a tearful hug on the way because even at ten, she knew that that voice meant trouble. “Sorry ‘Lex. I shouldn’t ‘a told your secret,” She whispered, before sprinting to her room and leaving Alex wondering if he’d get to see her after tonight.

“Alex Mercer, please come downstairs.” Her voice chilled him to the bone, like shards of ice penetrating his skin and seeping into his blood. But he walked down anyway.

Alex tightened the muscles in his hands and feet, willing himself to stay still and planted to the wooden floor, facing his mother head-on, as if the look in her eyes wasn’t terrifying him to the point of tears. But he wouldn’t let her see that she was getting to him, he wouldn’t. So he bit his tongue and counted down from ten inwardly.

“What is this nonsense?” She hissed, reaching out and gripping his forearm, her nails a millimeter away from digging into his skin.

Alex swallowed roughly. “I- I don’t know. Angie’s just… she’s-”

“Don’t lie to me!” His mother snapped. She brought her hand back, curling her fingers in with a look of disgust, as if she’d been touching fire. And then she was speaking again, but Alex couldn’t hear her over the pounding in his ears. He tightened his jaw and shut his eyes momentarily. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Get out.”

His eyes snapped open. Alex stood still in front of her, searching her eyes for the slightest bit of remorse. But there was nothing but ice. So he left. He left with tears running down his face and he couldn’t even bring himself to say goodbye to Angie. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the block when he realized that he had nothing but the clothes on his back and a backpack full of everything he could fit, and no where to go. He collapsed on the ground, the cold night air finally hitting him, seeping into his bones. He looked up and wiped his eyes, sniffling. It was odd, the way that the Christmas lights were able to look so beautiful when he felt so broken inside. It felt almost unfair that everything outside of him was moving at a normal pace like nothing had changed. But Alex knew better than that. Everything had changed.

---

These are the people who expressed interest in reading this when I posted about it a few days ago :)

@edgeofgillespie @herequeerandcantdrinkbeer @lookingthroughmirrors

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #can you tell i wasn't born in the 90s lmao #alex mercer #alex mercer jatp #jatp fic #jatp fanfic #reggie peters #luke patterson #bobby wilson #trevor wilson #willow writes

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

this is the life

ole miss rafe x reader

you and your boyfriend deal with your ~futures~

literally no one asked for this lol, i’m sorry

(warnings: cursing)

Your animal and dairy sciences seminar had a report due that you’d stayed up very late making last minute edits to because you were stressed it was really bad. The next morning was brutal. Not only was in an 8 a.m. lecture, but your coffee machine was out and you overslept, barely giving yourself enough time to get to class before the professor checked attendance.

You slid into your seat, out of breath, just as started scanning the seating chart for attendance. The boy who sits next to you turned to ask, “Library was backed up this morning?”

“What?” you asked, halfway paying attention, still scrambling to get your notebook out.

“Since you’re running late, I’m assuming it’s because the library was busy when you went to print your report.”

Your stomach dropped and you swore, “Fuck. I forgot to print it. Fucking fuck. I submitted it online but I forgot we needed to hand him a physical copy too. Oh god I can’t afford to fail this class.” You were getting worked up and the boy was starting to look more and more like he regretted talking to you in the first place.

“I mean he’s pretty chill, so I’m sure if you explain he’ll let you bring it by his office later.”

The boy had a point, but you were already too far gone. For the rest of the class, you were unfocused, and if someone asked you what he lectured on, you’d have no clue, so preoccupied with rehearsing how you were going to beg him for an extension. You only had one other class, and you’d definitely be able to print it out and run it to him between them, but that was depending on if he let you.

Just as class was ending, your phone vibrated in your hoodie pocket, and you checked it, immediately calmed at seeing a text from your boyfriend. Rafe sent Can’t wait to see you this weekend and whatever had a grip on your chest loosened enough for you to take a full breath for the first time since waking up.

After speaking to your professor and his reassurance that you didn’t really need to worry much about the written report, that it was just to ensure everyone had it turned in prior to class, you left, much happier, but the exhaustion hitting you straight in the gut.

Thankfully, all you had left that day was a communication elective and then to drive to Rafe’s apartment in Oxford. He’d convinced you to make the trip because he wanted to show you around the place he’d called home for four years after leaving behind his “hometown trauma.” His words.

Your class flew by, people were giving speeches and you’d given yours Wednesday, so you sat there mindlessly, half asleep, until she dismissed the class for the weekend. Stopping back by your apartment to pick up your overnight bag, you decided to last minute check your PO Box, it had been a while. To your shock, you actually had mail, and when you saw the return address, the sick feeling returned to your stomach.

There was about a two-hour drive to Rafe’s apartment from Starkville, and you had the option of opening the letter containing either the best news or the worst news of your life before the drive or at Rafe’s apartment. Part of you wanted to know then, but a stronger part of you wanted to be with Rafe so he could comfort you if necessary.

Instead of making a decision, you felt your tired brain could not, you called Rafe. He answered before the second ring and you couldn’t help yourself.

“I see that receptionist job taught you some useful skills.”

“What?” he asked, sounding confused.

“Answering my calls fast, that’s good because my time is money.”

Rafe sighed, “Can I help you?”

“Someone’s mad. But, yes, should I open the letter from the vet school now or wait until I get to Oxford.”

You heard some shuffling around before he answered, “You think you can wait? I actually have something to tell you too.”

“Yeah, um, sure,” you were a little worried, “Is everything okay?”

“I think so. We just need to talk.”

“Right, talk, are you sure everything’s good?”

“Yeah, stop worrying. Just drive on over.”

You had been excited to go visit, but after that phone call you wanted to go back to bed. With a deep sigh, you rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands and slumped backward. Blinking away the spots, you buckled up, pit in your stomach, and drove to your favorite coffee shop in Starkville. If shit was going to go down in Oxford you were going to have your comfort drink.

StrangeBrew’s drive-thru was packed and you tapped your fingers anxiously on the steering wheel as you waited to order your blueberry cobbler cold brew with soy milk. Right as the barista handed you the to-go cup, your phone vibrated and Rafe had sent drive safe!! <3. The fuck did that mean in the context of your earlier phone conversation?!

The drive to Oxford was boring as hell. You’d made it before, a band you liked had played there one night, and you and some friends had made the reluctant trip to see them. Turning on your podcast, you focused on nothing but the drive, pushing aside relationship doubts and the growing anxiety about the letter sitting in your passenger seat.

You called Rafe when you got close, and he was waiting outside his building when you finally found a visitor’s spot. He jogged over to grab your overnight bag and bent down to give you a quick kiss, before greeting you with, “Hey, baby, how was the drive?”

“Boring as fuck, nothing new.”

“Went smoothly?”

“About as smooth as possible. I’ve had to pee for the last like 40 minutes though, so it’d be great if I could do that now.”

He laughed and turned to walk to his building, motioning for you to follow him. You did, scampering a little to keep up with his long strides, and he unlocked a door on the first floor, holding it open for you, “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.”

Rafe was sitting on the couch when you made it back out to the living room, and you finally took a good look at him. His laptop was on the coffee table and he was wearing a pair of Ole Miss sweats, a worn-out t-shirt, and a pair of glasses you were unaware he needed.

“Take a picture,” he interrupted your train of thought and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up, Cameron. Now, tell me what you want to talk about so I can open my letter.”

“No, open your letter first and then we’ll talk.”

You weren’t sure why he was so insistent or why your heart rate tripled, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t the coffee. With shaking hands, you held up the letter from the MSU Vet School. All of your undergrad work came down to that letter, whether you’d have to take a gap year and try to find work to apply again or whether you could move forward in your career path.

Rafe watched on eagerly as you carefully tore it open and started reading. Eyes jumping across the page, unable to focus, you barely made out, Congratulations and We welcome you and We look forward to seeing you next fall.

With a gasp, you launched yourself at an unprepared Rafe and latched on, arms wrapped around his neck. He ran his hand up and down your back soothingly and asked, gently, “Good news?”

“I’m going to Vet School,” you whispered, voice cracking in the middle of your sentence.

“Fucking right you are, my little Rockstar.”

Your face heated up and you buried it in the crook of his neck, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. Only to come crashing back down a few seconds later as you remembered Rafe wanted to talk. Pulling back slowly, you asked, “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

His face lit up and he leaned forward, hanging on to you so he didn’t accidentally dump you onto the floor, and grabbed his laptop. Clicking to his email, he showed you the message he had pulled up from Mississippi State University Department of History Admissions.

“So, you know I’ve been interested in teaching,” he started, “and I’m debating whether I’d like to teach college or not.”

“Yeah, last we talked, you were leaning toward college professor, right?”

“Right. Well, I applied to a few schools that had a PhD program I was interested in, and I heard back from my top choice.”

Your mind was racing, still not connecting the dots, until he motioned at his laptop. Looking back down, you skimmed the email, telling him that he’d been accepted into MSU’s PhD in European History program and gasped, turning back to him in excitement, “No way?!”

“Way,” he told you, wide grin on his face.

Jaw dropped, your mind raced to put together a coherent thought, “How long have you been planning this?”

“The program is good, this isn’t a new thought, but MSU obviously jumped up my preference list to the top after we got together.”

“Fuckin whipped,” you teased and he tilted your chin down to kiss you.

Pulling away he brushed some of your hair back, “Only for you.”

As he leaned in again, you were the one to pull back, “Wait, we have to celebrate!”

Rafe groaned, “No, let me kiss you.”

“No! I want food, I spent the entire ride thinking I was going to get dumped when I got here.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“We need to talk,” you quoted, “that’s one scary fucking sentence, Cameron.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, sweetheart, I just wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“Well you did.”

Rafe leaned in to kiss you again and pulled back to add, “You really think I’d make you drive all the way here, just to break up with you. I’m wounded you think that lowly of me.”

“You are an asshole.”

Rolling his eyes, he pinched your cheek gently, “Be nice to me, I’m sacrificing my dignity and lowering myself to Mississippi State’s standards.”

Blinking a few times in surprise at his sudden switch, you told him back, “Fuck off, I’m sure you were last choice as soon as they saw where you got your undergrad degree.”

Without saying anything else, he kissed you again, gripping behind your knees and shifting so your back was on the couch. As he lowered himself down on top of you, you decided that food could wait. You had your future to celebrate.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fluff #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe obx #outer banks fic #outer banks #obx #college rafe #ole miss rafe

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theleakypen · 4 years

Note

OYZZ/A-Qing, AU where they meet while she's alive, kiss meme?

(uhhh so this accidentally turned into a full-on fic. Unfortunately, it's only a fix-it for A Jing, not for Songxiao 😭; I’m going entirely by book canon here, except my brain has settled on CQL aesthetics for OYZZ and A Jing, hence the “burgundy robes.”)

Kissing prompt

"Excuse me, are there any powerful people around here? Powerful people who cultivate?" Ā Jing swallowed hard as yet another passerby shook her off. She wouldn't cry! Her dàozhǎng needed vengeance and so did Song dàozhǎng; she had to keep trying to find someone.

"Excuse me, gūniang," came a voice from behind her—a young voice, a boy about her age. "I'm a cultivator. Perhaps I can be of service?"

It took some doing to convince first the boy — Ouyang Zizhen — and then his father that Xue Yang was indeed in Yi City and not dead as he should have been these last many years, but in the end Sect Master Ouyang had reached out to his patron, the master of the Jiang sect, who was known for his hatred of demonic cultivators, and the full might of both Baling Ouyang and Yunmeng Jiang was brought to bear against Xue Yang. Ā Jing insisted on being allowed to accompany them — she had to see this through.

Ouyang Zizhen seemed to have decided that she was his responsibility and he stuck close to her while his seniors prepared for and then fought the battle. "I'm not allowed to night hunt unsupervised, anyway, so I will be your protector, Jing gūniang!"

Ā Jing wasn't going to say no to protection. Ever since she saw her dàozhǎng killing people under Xue Yang's guidance she had felt an overwhelming terror. It was lessened now that she had an entire army between her and Xue Yang, including this strangely earnest boy, but until she saw Xue Yang's dead body with her own eyes, she wouldn't feel able to truly rest.

She took one look at the dead bodies laid out in a row, the two Daoist priests and their murderer, and flung herself weeping into Ouyang Zizhen's arms. He stroked her back, while she shook and wet his burgundy silk robes with her tears, and murmured soothingly in her ear. She liked that he called her "Jing gūniang," as if she really was somebody, and not just an urchin with no family name to speak of.

"What will you do, now that it's over?" he asked, when they were all seated in an inn, waiting for food to be delivered to their table. He kept his arm around her and seemed to be daring his seniors to say anything. Ā Jing was still feeling shaky and uncertain, so she wasn't going to complain. She clutched the little pouch that the cultivators said held Xiao Xingchen’s soul close to her chest, afraid to let it out of her sight even for a moment. They said his soul was shattered into little bits, but that it might heal with time. The least she could do was take care of it until it did. Every time she thought about her poor dàozhǎng, shattering himself to pieces because of his horror at what Xue Yang had made him do, she felt fresh tears prickling her eyes.

"I don't know," she said. "I was traveling with Xiao dàozhǎng so long, I don't think I know how to travel alone anymore." This was probably not true, but all these people knew that she was sighted — she had to play up her helplessness somehow!

"You can come with us to Baling," Ouyang Zizhen suggested. "You could learn to be a cultivator, like us."

"Aren't I too old?" she asked, looking at him sidelong.

"You'll probably never be exceptional," he agreed, "but that doesn't mean you can't learn to use a sword the way we do."

It sounded appealing. It sounded like a lot of work. Well, if she didn't like it, she could always leave. Traveling alone in Baling couldn't be any different from traveling alone in Shudong.

Baling was nice. They let her call herself Xiao Jing, to keep her dàozhǎng's name alive, even if he was now dead. They gave her a room and nice clothes and they didn’t try to take away the two bags that held everything that mattered to her in this world — the wallet she had stolen from Xiao Xingchen, and the Spirit Capture Pouch that held his soul. They added her to the rolls of junior disciples. She had to practice next to seven year olds, and it was hard work, but she never had to worry about her next meal and Ouyang Zizhen came by all the time to see how she was settling in. One time a couple of his big sisters came by and told her to tell them if he was bothering her.

"We'll beat him up for you, don't worry," said the second young mistress of Baling Ouyang. Xiao Jing thought that maybe that was backwards — shouldn't they be threatening her on his behalf? After all, she was a swindler and a thief. But, then, they didn't know that part of her past.

Everyone knew she was a tragic orphan, victimized by the horrible Xue Yang, and she'd played that up as much as possible. Pity was good — people mostly didn't want to hurt you if they pitied you. Mostly people were patient with her uneducated speech and her inability to read and that she picked up cultivation concepts slowly, except the physical ones. The exercises came easily — she'd had to be deft to steal without people noticing, and that came in handy now.

"He's not a bother," she said aloud. "I like Ouyang gōngzǐ."

"Oh?" The fifth young mistress pounced on that, smiling like a cat. "And in what way do you like xiǎodì?"

Xiao Jing blushed at that, and did her best to deflect.

"Your sisters came to see me today," Xiao Jing told Ouyang Zizhen. She pulled a couple of sweets from the wallet she still kept close by, the one she stole from Xiao Xingchen all those years ago, and offered one to him. Their fingers tangled briefly as he accepted the sweet and she flashed back to Ouyang Ruoyin's question. In what way do you like our little brother? She shook herself, willing her cheeks to stop blushing. Back to doing the teasing; that was way better than being teased. "They said they'll beat you up if you keep bothering me."

"They told me the same thing," Ouyang Zizhen laughed. "Am I bothering you, Jing gūniang?"

"Obviously not," Xiao Jing retorted. "I don't give sweets to people who bother me."

"Well, that's a relief, then," he said, smiling at her as he popped the sweet in question into his mouth. He had a very nice smile, distractingly nice. She realized she was staring at his lips, which was definitely inappropriate, and dragged her gaze up to his eyes, which were crinkled in that same smile. Hell.

“Jing gūniang, I—” he began, before she cut him off. Oh well, it wasn’t as though she hadn’t been impulsive before.

“Ouyang gōngzǐ, do you like me?”

Now it was his turn to blush and stammer, which filled her with an obscure satisfaction. “I— yes, I— yeah?” he said. His voice steadied as he took up his thread. “I like you a lot. Your courage in the face of extreme adversity, your devotion to your dàozhǎng, the way your eyes flash in the sun when you train—”

“Okay, okay,” Xiao Jing cut him off again. There was no stopping Ouyang Zizhen when he got poetic. She wasn’t anticipating the danger of letting him get poetic about her, the way it made her skin feel hot and prickly all over. “I get it, you think I’m admirable. Do— Would—” She swallowed hard. Get it together, Ā Jing. “Would you like to try kissing?” she asked, the words coming out all in a rush.

Ouyang Zizhen stared at her, mouth falling open in a pretty silly-looking way. Xiao Jing almost laughed at it, except for how her stomach was turning somersaults. Did she misread things? Ouyang Zizhen did get poetic about all sorts of things, but she did think he showed her particular attention! She scuffed her foot on the floor of the pavilion. “I only meant...” She looked down. “I like you, too, and I thought...”

“Yeah.” His voice was breathless and Xiao Jing looked up with new hope. He was still blushing, and his eyes seemed almost to sparkle as he stepped nearer to her. “Yeah, can I kiss you?”

Xiao Jing smiled and took one of his hands and tilted her face up to his. She’d hit a growth spurt recently—probably all that good Baling food—but he was still taller than her. He tilted his head consideringly, and then lowered his face until their lips met. She felt his nose brushing her cheek and the little sigh of his breath on her mouth. His lips were soft on hers and just the slightest bit sticky. He tasted a little of the candy they’d both just eaten. His hand tightened its grip on her hand, even as his other hand came up to cup her cheek, and she felt that same heat and prickle on her skin as she did when he had been complimenting her.

When they parted, Xiao Jing stepped forward and buried her face in his collar, hiding her flushed cheeks. Ouyang Zizhen wrapped his arms around her almost automatically. “That was nice,” he whispered into her hair.

She nodded and then murmured, “Yeah,” in case he couldn’t tell what her movement meant.

“Do you... want to do it again?” he asked.

“Give me a minute,” she said.

He chuckled quietly; she felt the wind of his breath ruffling her hair. “As long you need,” he said.

#fanfic #puck answers #puck writes #mo dao zu shi #魔道祖师 #ouyang zizhen #欧阳子真 #a qing #a jing #阿箐 #my oyzz has a million older sisters agenda continues #my sense of timing might be off here but i'm pretty sure they're like 14 in this #i haven't written young teens in a while so i hope this reads true for them #huanglaoshu

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pilyarquitect · 3 years

Text

3 “What happened to your hand(s)?”

I've a few more requests wrote that will soon be updated, but unfortunately after publishing them all, I'll close requests for a while. Sorry, life is taking me a lot.

As the last time, since the person who requested those one-shots said he didn't care if they were in English or Spanish, I decided to do half and half, and this one is in English.

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

Leo woke up at dawn. He could feel his heavy eyes, trying to close themselves against his will. But Leo forced himself to keep awake. He had this feeling, a feeling Mikey named bro-needs-superdetector…

Honestly, Mikey needed to work more in the name, since Leo wouldn’t admit loudly, but Mikey’s ability to name all the creatures they found during all the time since they went to the surface for the first time, was admirable. And actually, all the names were quite accurate.

But returning to what woke Leo up, it was true every time one of his brothers needed help, Leo had this feeling. So, after tying his mask, he left his bed and his room, the older brother headed first to his youngest brother’s room. He put his ear on the door and listened carefully. He could hear his little brother inside, snoring peacefully and muttering “pizza”, “pepperoni”, “candies” and similar words. So Mikey wasn’t the one who needed help, he was dreaming with pizza, nothing strange in that.

Next door was Raph’s. Leo knew he had to be careful. Raph wasn’t as easy as him to wake up, but if he made the mistake of wake up Raph, Leo was sure he could end up with one of his wrathful brother’s sai nailed somewhere in his body, totally accidental, of course, Raph would never do it on purpose – at least Leo hoped he wouldn’t – but the second older brother had a very bad awakening, and if he wasn’t careful, he would surely pay the consequences of it.

The blue-clad turtle repeated the action he did with Mikey’s room, and fortunately, he heard hard snoring coming from the inside of the muscular turtle. Raph was alright too. That left only one option, Donnie was the one who needed help.

Using his ninja training, Leo went as silent as possible – to not wake up Raph – from the red-clad turtle’s room to his genius room. And once in front of the door, for the thirst time that night, Leo repeated the operation of listening inside. But unlike the other two times, Leo could hear nothing coming from Donnie’s room. It seemed as if it was empty. Leo frowned. He saw the tallest turtle walk to his room. Why was it so quiet now? Carefully, the older brother opened a little bit the door’s room.

“Donnie?” he whispered “Donnie, are you there?”

Silence.

The oldest brother opened the door a little more and looked inside. To be honest, he wasn’t surprised upon seeing his genius brother’s room empty. It wasn’t the first time Donnie sneaked out of his room in the middle of the night, and Leo knew perfectly well where did the genius turtle went every time he did this.

Leo immediately headed to the lab. He was convinced Donnie would be there. The big doors were opened and the light was opened, making Leo be sure his hypothesis was right. Leo was glad that his brother didn’t close the door. This made his job easier. Carefully and silent, the older brother walked to the lab. As he got close, he could hear his genius brother muttering to himself as he seemed to be looking for something.

Leo looked inside and saw his brother next to the first aid supply cabinet. Seeing him there made Leo fear his brother was injured, so before he could stop himself, he was entering to the lab.

“Donnie? Are you okay?”

The oldest brother heard an instant scream for his obvious surprised brother, and what he had at his hands fall to the ground. Fortunately, what fall down was a pack of gauze. Leo moved his eyes from his brother to the table and immediately noticed the broken glass on it. Alarms raised on Leo’s mind, and he took a better look on Donnie and soon realized.

“What happened to your hands?”

Donnie’s eyes widened, but soon he tried to cover the fact he had been caught by making it seem something not worthy to worry about.

“Oh well, that’s… not as bad as it seems.”

“Donnie, this isn’t what I asked!” Leo replied with a hard expression.

The oldest brother’s look along with his tone weren’t enough to make Donnie stop pretending.

“Well, you’ll see…”

Leo knew his brother was trying to avoid the fact he would have to explain what was he doing, but on the other side, Leo noticed his brother knew with a little bit more of pressure there wouldn’t be any possible scape way, so Leo made sure to give the genius turtle the pressure he needed.

“Donnie.”

The purple clad turtle sighed. He was defeated and he had no other choice than explain everything to Leo.

“I was trying to find a retro-mutagen, but while mixing different chemicals, suddenly it produced an exothermically reaction and before I could even realize, it exploded.” Donnie giggled. “Fortunately, by instinct I protected my face, although, since I was wearing my lab glasses my eyes wouldn’t get damaged, but I couldn’t tell the same for the rest of my face.”

Leo nodded in understanding.

“So, you got hurt on your hands instead of your face.”

“Exactly.” Said Donnie nodding too.

Leo sighed. He expected something like this actually. He looked at his brother, especially his hands. They seemed to hurt. Leo sighed again. He knew what to do.

“Come on, let me help you.”

He made his brother accompany him and started to heal his hands. While working, an awkward silence set up on them. Leo looked discretely at Donnie’s face, but the genius turtle avoided to look at him or his hands, he was looking to an unspecific zone of the ground. There was something bothering Donnie, Leo was sure of that, and it was his job as older brother to find it out and help him in the best way possible. For that reason, Leo cleared his throat.

“So, what were you doing here so late?” he asked in the most casual way possible.

Donnie stared at him adopting a surprised look. He was looking at him as if Leo had two heads.

“I’ve already told you, trying to find a retro-mutagen.” The purple-clad turtle answered sounding a little annoyed.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know that.” Leo took a deep breath. “What were you doing here when you were supposed to be sleeping?”

“Oh that… well, it’s true Sensei told me to go to sleep, and I really tried to, but I just couldn’t.” Donnie admitted. He closed his eyes and shame was perfectly reflected in his attitude. “Because of our negligence, there are a lot of mutants out here, and to help them all – April’s dad included – to recover their normal lives, I’ve to find a retro-mutagen.”

Leo looked at his brother with a sad expression. He knew perfectly well that, from them all, Donnie was the one who blamed himself the most for what happened. Specially since April decided not to talk to them anymore after finding out they were responsible of his dad’s mutation.

Leo feared Donnie’s inner self-blame could end up destroying him, and he wasn’t going to allow this happen. Not in his watch.

“Donnie, do you feel guilty that all the mutagen fallen from that Kraang ship?” he asked directly while looking his brother reaction.

Donnie immediately looked at him with a surprised expression.

“What? No, well, maybe yes…” he admitted “I could have done something to prevent all those cans to fall, but I failed, and innocent people is paying for it.”

Leo sighed. His assumption was right, but he had to stop it before it went to far.

“Donnie, it wasn’t just you,” Leo put a hand on Donnie’s shoulder “it was our fault, the four of us. You cannot bear the sole blame for what happened.”

Donnie looked away, unable to keep eye contact with his oldest brother.

“You may be right Leo, but we both know I’m the only one capable to find a retro-mutagen, and if I don’t find it, we won’t be able to do anything else.”

Leo lowered his head, what Donnie said was true, but Leo didn’t want all this pressure on his brother, he didn’t want him to believe he was carrying all the weight of the world to a point where he’d start forgetting his own health in order to save everyone.

“I know Donnie, but I also know you’ll find a way to cure all those mutants, I trust you. But right now, to be more productive, you need to let your brain rest.”

Donnie giggled and looked at his brother with a tinny smile in his face.

“Where did you get that from?”

Leo adopted a thoughtful expression, and pretended to think for a while about it.

“Honestly, I don’t know, but I think it’s a good thing to say.”

Donnie shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“Just maybe?” asked Leo crossing his arms over his chest.

“Fine, it is, I’ll may take your advice and ‘let my brain rest’.”

“That would be good.”

The two of the laughed at this until they remembered everyone else was sleeping.

#prompt list #requests #TMNT2012 #leonardo #donatello

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omiscurls · 4 years

Text

prom queen

sakusa kiyoomi x reader

word count: around 12K i apologize profusely

"Did I just hear Sakusa Kiyoomi say my ass? Oh god the world's end is upon us!"

i’d just like to add that english is NOT my first language so i apologize for the simple constructions and mistakes every now and then, although i did check it all before posting

"Quit smiling at me, I can't stop messing up my sentences if you keep looking at me like that" you heard him say, almost embarassed, but still not quite, going back to explaining something to Komori, after the comment.

"I wasn't smiling at you" you responded, crossing your arms at your chest, pulling out the best pout face you could. You almost heard Sakusa's eyeroll.

You, in fact, were smiling at him, for two very simple reasons. One, volleyball was one of the things you geniuenly adored watching him talk about, and two, you knew how rattled it made him and enjoyed his face turning bright red as he tried to ignore you, but failed miserably and loosing the subject he was talking about.

Even when he finally figure out that you were doing it on purpose, he still couldn't seem to get over your wide smile. But what he truly couldn't get over was people, mostly Komori, teasing him about it all the time.

Sakusa's one weakness — your smile. And the germs, of course, that too, but it made the quote so less romantic.

"You were saying, Sakusa?" Komori asked, smiling as well, watching him being all miserable, and knowing that question will push him off his tracks even more.

"Nevermind, you meatheads, you aren't worth my time" he cut him off by pulling out his headphones and then proceeding to plug them into his phone like he was alone.

"Hey, I know you're a douchebag, but be pleasant to your girlfriend!" his friends intended on hitting him playfully, but he dodged it in absolute shock. Then, when the words finally hit him, he turned even redder and looked at Komori with disgust.

"She's not my girlfriend". he just added, leaving, but grabbing your sweater, so you'd follow him.

"Sure she isn't!" the other boy yelled as you two were walking away. Sakusa showed him his middle finger without even turning around.

You were still laughing while leaving the school campus, with him holding a scrap of your sleeve between his fingers, eyes glued to the phone.

"Would you mind stopping already?" he finally lifted up his head.

"Oh, I'm sorry Omi, it's just fun seeing you all so flustered"

"I'm not! And enough with the Omi already" he said coldly, it would almost hurt you didn't know him long enough to know being unpleasant was just his coping mechanism.

"Oh yeah? Then let go of my sweater, Sakusa-san" you said in the most chilly way you could, before jerking your hand away and walking in a different direction than the one you two usually took when going home. Both ways leaded to the same train station, cause you needed to take the same train to get to your block, only after leaving your station did you need to part. The route you took now was longer than the usual one, but you didn't care, you didn't need to make it before Sakusa's train if you weren't coming home with him, right?

"Oh god, don't get offended!" he said while you were already leaving, even tried to catch you, but gave up. After coming across a turn, you looked behind you to see if he was following you, but he wasn't.

It kinda hurted, how fast he gave up. Made you feel as if it didn't matter to him whether you went home together or not. Maybe it truly didn't, sometimes you had no clue what was happening in his head. Did he truly get embarassed when Komori called you his girlfriend? Or was he just annoyed? Maybe he ment it every time he insulted you in some way, and you just tried to explain it to yourself in other ways so you wouldn't lose him?

Maybe, just maybe, he was as much of a douchebag as everybody described him to be.

Meanwhile Sakusa was still looking in the direction where you disappeared a couple of minutes earlier, letting the crowd of students pass him by.

Did she really leave like that? Did I offend her?

Oh, whatever, girls were so easy to offend, anyway. You knew how much you ment to him, right? There was no need to say it.

Right?

Komori interrupted his thinking, by running up to him and slapping his back, much to Sakusa's displeasure.

"What're you still doing here? Aren't you walking with Miss Girlfriend today?" he asked unbothered by the murder look on his face.

"She's not— No, no I'm not" he gave up on trying to convince Motoya you weren't his girlfriend. Or maybe he didn't want to convince him?

"Why's that?"

"Well, she left and went the other way" he explained, starting to walk. He and Komori lived almost next door to each other, so even after leaving the train station, they'd still be going together, and Sakusa already predicted that this conversation is going to haunt him all the way until reaching his door.

"Oh my, what did you do now to piss her off? She never gets annoyed with your shit"

He wanted to yell at him that he did nothing, and you're probably just in a bad mood, not by his fault, but words couldn't seem to get out of his mouth.

"I might've accidentally hurt her on accident"

"You said accident twice"

"No I didn't!"

Komori laughed, suprising his friend. How could he be laughing right now, when you left him just like that, and he didn't know what to do next?

"Anyway" he finally said, and suprisingly caught Sakusa's attention "I'm not the one you should be explaining yourself to, so let's shift the subject a bit. Saku, your my socially awkward friend, and you know I'd do a lot to help you out once you actually found somebody who keeps up with you, but I can't be dropping her hints forever. How're you gonna ask her to prom?"

If Sakusa were drinking at the moment, he definitely would've choked.

"I'm not asking her to prom" he denied. What kind of an idea was that? Did he loose his mind? Sakusa? To prom? Hell no.

"What do you mean you're not asking her to prom?!" Komori stopped in his tracks, putting both of his hands on Sakusa's shoulders, so he'd stop as well. "Are you dumber than I already preassumed, Saku?"

"Are you? I'm not going to prom at all." he replied before starting to walk again.

"Why?!" Komori tried desperately to keep up with him.

The black haired boy stopped once more and threw a deadly glance at his friend.

"Because, you idiot, I hate crowds, I hate people, parties, shared drinks, dancing, highschoolers and not being able to talk, because the music is so loud it could be heard from the fricking moon. Because prom is everything I am not. Because it's gross and overrated and not that fun at all, it's an old custom that parents use to tell their kids they need to have a boyfriend or a girlfriend at eighteen or else they'd waste their teenage years, and the popular kids use to mock the less recognizable ones. The thing that makes both girls and guys loose sanity and adds twice as much complexes to their mental health than they had before. And besides, she would've said no anyway. Satisfied, you moron?"

Only after finishing the sentence did Sakusa realize his hands had started to sweat uncontrollably, and a hot feeling flooded his insides, causing his heart rate to increase significantly. It took him a minute to catch his breath, even though he was standing in place, not even walking.

Komori was looking at him with a dumb expression, not really sure how to respond to that outburst of frustration.

"Well that part with saying no isn't certain, is it? he finally mumbled, but Sakusa only snorted sarcastically and speeded up. "You never know unless you—"

"Komori! I'm not fucking asking! Do you understand, or is it too difficult for your peanut sized brain? Well let me spell it out for you: I'm not. Asking. Her. To. Prom. Understood?" he didn't even realize he was yelling, and two or three old ladies were staring him up and down from the distance, with disgust. He was so shaken up he didn't care.

He noticed the other boy wasn't walking beside him anymore, but standing in place and only looking at him in disbelief. He slowed down as well. Komori's normal and bubbly expression and aura suddenly shifted, and the taller boy noticed that he looked like a serial killer when he didn't smile.

"Well, now that you're done with that pathethic little whining, let me tell you something as well" the boy trembled at the coldness of Komori's voice, as he was walking up to him. "And you better listen to me carefully, Sakusa fucking idiot Kiyoomi."

Now, that was unnecessarly direct.

"Prom isn't the only dumb tradition this school holds. You know what happens a week before the party? A game. "Honours Homecoming Match". The team that has the most successes on it's account by the end of the semester has a game. And what is our school so famous for? Volleyball. So who's gonna have a game, for the third years to show off one last time before graduation? Us. And you know who's the most awaited person on the prom night, besides the prom queen and king? The athletes. The captains, the aces, especially of the teams that are popular right now. And who's the ace of our most significant team?"

Silence fell upon them.

"That question isn't rhetorical, Kiyoomi. Who's our volleyball ace?"

"I am" he responded, now regretting ever getting into volleyball.

"Exactly. Now get your act together and acknowledge the fact that coach is probably going to FORCE YOU to go there, and you're going to be way more miserable all alone with Cap and his girlfriend, than you would've been if you took you precious little friend along with you."

"I gue—" Sakusa tried to agree, although, he still hated the idea, but Komori cut him off once more.

"And if that's not enough for you, then fine, I'll paint you an even worse picture. Go on about how you are not interested in her in any way, but I see the way your eyes light up when she shouts your name from across the hallway. I see how you smile every time after telling her you don't care about the compliments she gives you. I see how focused you are when she's watching our games."

"I'm always focused"

"Shut up, did I finish? It's a different kind of focus. You really think I don't notice you constantly checking whether you got notifications, even though you never did that before meeting her? And even though you tell her it's annoying when she randomly texts you? Well, I do. I see how important she is to you and I see how much you try to hide your feelings, even from yourself, because you're scared, which is understandable, you never felt like that before. I get it all, really, I do, Kiyoomi. But imagine this. Imagine how she would feel if everyday, while hanging out with you, she'd wish for you to ask her that one simple question. Maybe sometimes you'd even unconsciously lead her on, and then at the end of the day not say it, imagine how she'd go home with her hopes crushed, only to hope for the same the next day. And imagine it going on and on until prom week, when she'd suddenly stop wishing for it to happen anymore, because everything around her seems to say it won't? And then some lame ass guy's gonna ask her two days before and she'll eventually say yes, because well, it's better than going alone, right? And then she'd dress up the best she can, do her make up, all that, all for a guy she doesn't care about, but she still wants to have prom memories? Then she'd go, and see you there, alone, which wouldn't even mean you have someone else, no, it would only mean you didn't want to go with HER."

"Stop! That's not why I'd be alone!"

"Did I say it was why you'd be alone? No, I say she would've thought that, because well, that's how it would've looked like. And imagine her waiting for that lame ass guy to ask her for even one simple dance, but she'd be busy trying to get attention from a girl that already rejected him. And even though she didn't give a single shit about him either it still would've hurt her, because she'd feel objectified, someone only wanted to go out with her because it would be a shame to go alone. Imagine her not taking it anymore and running of to the bathroom, all her carefully done make up flowing down her face, but she wouldn't care anymore. It's not like anyone wanted to see her all pretty, was it? Imagine her crying in the bathroom, hearing the slow song playing and only wishing she'd dance to it with you, but she'd know that was impossible, since you didn't even respect her enough to tell her you ARE going, but alone.

Sakusa's face was all pale, his eyes not able to focus on one point. Wait, would it really hurt you like that? Does a girl's mind really work like that? Was he really such an asshole?

"Am I really this bad of an asshole?" he asked, not realizing it was out loud until he heard Komori laugh. He raised his eyes to see his face back to normal, a smile across his cheeks.

"Yes. Yes, a thousand percent you are"

"There can only be one hundred percents"

"That's exactly what I'm reffering to. Thousand percent." Sakusa rolled his eyes, but Komori knew something big was on his mind, much bigger than his puns.

He was silent for a good three minutes, during which he'd start going in circles, running his hands through his hair in distress, looking up at the sky as if he was blaming god for the fact he was ever born, and of course facepalming like a crazy person, until he finally looked up at the other boy, chest puffed, shoulders raised and a confident look on his face.

"Alright, you won. How do I ask her?"

Komori jumped in excitement, hugging his friend.

"You have two seconds to get off or I'm reporting abuse to the police"

"Sorry, bro, I got carried away. You're growing up so fast"

"Call me that again, I dare you."

"No, sir."

"So, how're we going to do it?"

"Oh, man, get ready, this will be some serious Mean Girls meets Disney shit"

***

Never once before a game has Sakusa been this nervous. That's because he always knew that he had only his abilities to depend on, but now, there were so many unknowns, so many possible outcomes.

"'Supp, Omi-Omi?" he heard a giggle behind him, and someone touching his shoulders.

"I told you not to say that cursed nickname. It's Sakusa for you" he replied, turning back to look Komori in the eyes while he said that.

"Someone's in a bad mood"

"Only because you made that someone not only step out of the comfort zone, but fricking jump a hundred metres below it" he mumbled, crossing his arms at his chest, and looking down at the floor, a distressed look on his face.

They were already waiting in the back of the gym arena, dressed in their tournament uniforms instead of the practice ones, as it wasn't a normal practice match, but the last one they'd ever play with this squad. It was Honours Homecoming match, after all.

But that wasn't what worried Sakusa.

It wasn't the team they chose as opponents, either. He was in fact, happy to see a familiar face on the enemy team. His concerns that day didn't regard the game itself, but whats was to happen after it.

And the fact that for it to happen, they really REALLY needed to win.

They heard a voice of the commentator, (again, honours match, all the fancy stuff needed to be there) through the walls.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the students of Itachiyama Academy, the teachers, and all our dear guests. It is my pleasure to welcome you to this year's Homecoming Match. It has been a productive and succesfull year for our volleyball club! They returned from Tokyo National Gymnasium as victors, after the Interhigh..."

Clapping and cheering.

"... and won the silver cup at Spring National Tournament! Today, some of them are here for the last time, so please, do your best in cheering on our dear soon-to-be-graduates, and the rest of the team as well! But first, let me introduce the guest team to you. Ladies and gentlemen, I request a warm welcome for the team of Shiratorizawa Academy of Miyagi!"

Sakusa smiled ever so slightly, as sudden motivation flooded his mind. He was going to crush Ushiwaka-kun that day, and you were going to watch it happen.

"Let me introduce the starting order. Number 14, libero, Yamagata Hayato! Number 12, Kawanishi Taichi! Number 10, Shirabu Kenjiro!"

"Oh, so it's the same order they had against Karasuno" Sakusa whispered. Komori looked at him in disbelief, once again forgetting he was able to watch EVERY match his opponents ever played when nervous.

"You're unbelievable."

"...Number 8, Goshiki Tsutomu! Number five, Tendou Satori! Number four, Ohira Leon! And the ace and captain, ladies and gentlemen, number 1, Ushijima Wakatoshi!"

"Now, they needn't have added that. That's unproffesional, it's the commentators job to call someone an ace, not the official speaker." Sakusa complained.

He heard "Ushijima-kun!" coming loudly from the audience. Oh, so they came with their support team?

Even better, said his competetive side. Damn, am I turning into Miya?

"Now now, ladies and gentlemen, our dear Itachiyama students! Please welcome..."

He was going on and on, reading the names of every single one of his teammates that were assigned for that match, and Sakusa was forced to high five all of them while they were leaving for the court.

"Do your best there, Sakusa-san" he heard some of the first years say, and managed to smile at them a bit, which turned out to be so out of character for him, the first years were more scared that encouraged.

"...and lastly, our own ace, please welcome, number 10, Sakusa Kiyoomi!"

He heard cheers while running out of the gate, waving slightly at the crowd. Damn, Komori didn't lie when he said a lot of people will be watching. Never once had he seen the gym so full. People were sitting on the stairs, Standing next to the doors and some even out of the stands, near the court.

He even heard his fans shout, his fans who's existence he frequently denied, shouting "Omi-kun" as loud as the girls who were screaming Ushijima's name.

Don't you have anything better to do, he thought, but then he heard a familiar voice yelling on top of everyone else's.

"Omi-omi! Do your best!"

It was obviously you who was shouting, and you noticed him smile a bit, which suprised you a lot. You always yelled that, but he never EVER payed it any attention. But now he was looking directly at you, noticing even the Itachiyama colours painted on your cheeks.

And then he waved? What was up with that boy, did the aliens finally take him home, where he belonged, and replaced him with another one?

Ushijima went over to the net to shake hands with Itachiyama's captain, Tsukasa, a third year, so for the both of them it was the last time they ever did that.

Well, not for Ushiwaka, he was promised a career. But you were certain so was Sakusa, even though he was only in his second year, he was already a better spiker.

"Pleased to see you again, Kiyoomi-kun" Ushijima said louder, for him to hear. Everybody was even more suprised when he responded, with a smile on his lips.

"Any opportunity to crush you is a good one, Wakatoshi-kun"

"And now you sound like Miya" he replied before returning to his team.

Oh. Well, not like I care.

They lost the first set, 23 to 25, so they almost won, but it was still enough to make Sakusa's hand sweat like crazy from stress.

"Sakusa-kun" he heard captain Tsukasa behind his back. He turned to face him and notice a deadly expression. "It's my last time being able to scold you like that, so don't mind if I will. I don't know if you care or not, probably not, but we need to win that.

Oh he cared. He cared loads.

"To be honest, it doesn't matter to me what kind of motivation caused you to bite back at Ushijima like that, but I need that energy back for the second set. Drop the act for once, and try your best like it was Tokyo Finals. Like it was the fricking Olympics. I know you don't care, but I really do, and even if it's foolish of me to hope you'll actually liste—"

"You got it, captain." he cut him off and notice his pupils widen and mouth open in disbelief "I'll do my very best to win. I can be humble all I want, but I am the best, after all. No, we're the best. We defeted Shiratorizawa not once, not twice, and we'll beat them again. You'll leave like the true champion you are."

"Sakusa-kun I— I didn't think that would actually work on you..." Tsukasa lost his words.

He just shrugged his shoulders and turned away, as Ushijima came to say something to him.

"What's up with you, Kiyoomi-kun? Are you not at your best today?" he asked. Sakusa would've been annoyed if he didn't knew he was actually honestly concerned, in his own, weird way.

"I am, Wakatoshi. You'll see"

"I hope to"

Well, I hope to, as well. He looked at you in the crowd, checking your phone. A spring of jellousness stung him in the heart. Look at me, his eyes screamed, watch me, I need you to look closely as I win this foolery for you.

He was on fire, it seemed like the ball was his and his only once he touched it. It was beautiful thing to watch, really. They won the second set and were already near the positive end of the third one, going 22 to 20.

You noticed that Sakusa's newly found enthusiasm really tired him, as he was standing there, catching his breath, with both his hands on his knees, facing the gym floor. What has gotten into that boy you knew, always distanced, only showing his best when it was obviously needed, freaking everybody out. Here he was, giving his heart out, but in a different way than usual. Like he was actually invested emotionally in that game, not only wanting to win out of competetiveness.

Minutes later you watched him getting ready to spike the final point, as did the commentator describe it.

"...ladies and gentlemen, we're here to give a warm goodbye to the third years, but as an unwritten rule says, the last point belongs to the ace! Will Shiratorizawa's block use that information? As you can see, now near the net we have the undefeatable Ushijima Tendou duo, I'm sure Sakusa's frustrated by that fact, they might interrupt his glorious point streak!"

"Undefeatable my ass" said Sakusa, causing Komori to break into laughter.

"Did I just hear Sakusa Kiyoomi say my ass? Oh god the world's end is upon us!"

"Did I ask?" yelled Sakusa, focusing his eyes on Tendou. Ushijima just had strong arms, but Tendou, he was truly a blocker to be feared.

Shut up, Kiyoomi, you're the ace here, not Tendou Satori.

He checked quickly if you were looking. You were. And that was all he needed.

He clapped, telling the team to start already. Shiratorizawa's pinch server, Semi Eita was serving, but that was no suprise to Itachiyama's block, and the ball got passed on to the setter. Captain Tsukasa tossed it with a slight spin, but that wasn't a problem for Sakusa at all.

Now it wasn't a question of his abilities, but strenght. He wouldn't outjump Tendou and Ushijima, both tall as towers, they obviously left no room for a spike, but he felt reassured. Tsukasa could toss to anyone else, knowing they'll focus on Sakusa, but he still believed in his ace. And he didn't plan on disappointing the captain on his last day of duty.

"And that's not even my best, Wakatoshi!" he yelled as he took all the energy left in him to spike the ball right into Ushijima's fingertips.

If he didn't give it so much power, Ushi could've easily blocked that, but that was truly an ace's spike. Worth someone called "Japan's best".

He fell on his knees, feeling as tired as ever, catching his breath, but noticed the ball fall into the enemy field.

They won.

You shouted, alongside everyone else, yelling Sakusa's name.

You knew he didn't like the attention, but well, what could you do, you were proud. And he managed to suprise you yet again, when he actually checked whether you were scanding "Sa-Ku-Sa" along with the whole gym. He actually checked, he really looked worried you wouldn't, but how could you not?

What happened to him today?

The Itachiyama team, as well as Shiratorizawa's came to their side of the stands to bow to the people cheering them on for the last two hours, and then they all started to walk towards the coach.

"Now, Sakusa, while you still have the adrenaline"

Oh right, he was supposed to do it now.

Just like in the movies.

He nodded, feeling the stress rise inside him once again, already feeling saltiness in his mouth, as if he was about to throw up.

You were suprised when you saw him walk back to the edge of the court, looking in a different direction.

Other people around also noticed him walking over and were now silently watching.

That stressed him even more, but well, what can you do.

"Hey, Smiles!" you were suddenly so shocked, hearing the nickname he only used when you were alone, and even so, with embarassement, now using his full voice, with a confident look on his face. You raised both your eyebrows and bent over your seat to hear him better. "I have something important I need to ask you?"

Well, couldn't you wait? Your team is waiting, you thought, but nodded.

"What is it, Sakusa?"

Something itched inside his heart. Why, though? He liked his last name.

"First of all, never call me that again. It's Omi for you." he said, completely serious and official, making you pinch your arm to check whether this wasn't some kind of a weird dream. He hated that nickname, didn't he?

"And second, Smiles, will you maybe... I mean, if you're not busy or anything..."

"Sakusa fricking idiot Kiyoomi! That's not how they do it in the movies!" you heard Komori yell, making you even more nervous.

"Right! Right." He shook his head. "Smiles, go to prom with me" he said super fast and super loud, making people around you gasp for air in shock and then clap their hands. He looked embarassed, hearing the cheers. Right, other people were there. He didn't think that through.

What?

Well, you'd love to, but... what? You thought he'd never ask! You thought he wouldn't go at all...

"I mean, don't you hate crowds, Omi?" you asked, concerned.

"Smiles!" he yelled, getting more and more comfortable with calling you that. "That's a yes or no kind of question!"

You noticed everybody around looking at you, as well as the Itachiyama team, waiting for Sakusa to join them.

"I— well, uhm... I'd love to, actually" you answered, your smile couldn't be cointaned anymore and painted your lips. You felt heat coming to your cheeks. You weren't prepared for that.

"Great!" he laughed, so geniuenly, you were even more suprised, if that was possible. "Now if you're excuse me, I have to get my ass kicked."

You waited for him outside his gym room for good fifteen minutes after the last member of his team left, and were starting to worry he somehow escape not wanting to face you. But you were so, so happy, you didn't let that thought bring you down. However, you started to get a bit impatient. You decided to knock.

"Omi? You there?" you asked gently, and waited for the response.

On the other side of the door Sakusa looked at his displaced finger and wonder why didn't he feel it hurt before. Was that from his last spike? He knew it was kind of unproffesional and coach already scolded him for that, but well, he put so much strenght into it that the form he was so famous for somehow disappeared. He didn't care about it, only wanting to score and win, and now the painful consequences got to him.

Then he heard you say his name and started packing up rapidly.

"Coming!" he only responded, tears forming in his eyes as a piece of his shirt got over the hurting finger, causing it to bend and hurt even more. "Fuck" he whispered, clenching his teeth. He put the sports bag over his shoulder and left.

You noticed that he had just showered, which was rare, because you knew he'd rather die than set his foot into a public shower. But there was no doubt, he smelled like his coconut shampoo and the cologne was fresh, you knew he wouldn't spray cologne onto a sweaty body, because he personally despised people who did that. His curls were still a bit wet and were closer to his face than normally, weighted down by the humidity.

"Did you shower, Omi?" you asked straight forward.

"I never want to speak of that again."

You noticed his sports bandage wrapped over his feet. Oh, so that's how he went into the shower. Understandable.

"Look at you overcoming your fears. Did you hit your head or something, now that you're acting so different?"

He giggled, letting down his guard at once, with what he satisfied you to the point a proud feeling filled up your chest.

"No seriously, you could've just waited until you got home, like you always do, why'd you do the one thing you hate the most?"

No, the thing he hates the most was only just coming for him, he thought, looking down at his finger. Then he lifted up his head and looked at you.

"How could I invite you over if I was still sweaty? That would've been disgusting"

"How could you WHAT?" you shouted, which really took him off his tracks, confusing him.

"Uhm... yeah, unless you don't want to, then I guess I'll be going then" he explained quietly, and rushed to get in front of you, but before he could you already noticed the blush forming on his cheeks.

"No wait, Omi, I was just suprised!" you caught up with him and grabbed him by the hand, which caused him to curse underneath his breath.

"Fuck"

You let go instantly, not knowing what you did wrong.

"I'm sorry?"

"No, no it's nothing, it's just... my finger hurts a bit. Forget about it." You stood in front of him, not letting him keep walking.

"Show me" you said in a demanding tone. He hid his palm behind his back, but you managed to grab it anyway, looking at the fingers in shock. "That looks concerning, it's not supposed to look like that."

"What're you, a doctor?"

"No, but I'm taking you to see one."

"What? No, no you're not!" he yelled, and you saw fear in his eyes.

"Yes I am! Omi, we need someone to look on this, for the sake of your future career! Do you know how easy injuries like that can ruin it?"

You had a point, but he was still not sure about it. When you tried to lead him out of the building, he froze in place.

"Omi! Act reasonable, please" you said, but he still wouldn't move, only shaking his head.

"I don't need a doctor, I don't need to go to a hospital, it's nothing serious, I can just rest it and it'll go away! I don't need anything else, I'll take a pill and it'll stop hurting so much, I'm a big boy, I can handle it like a grown up, no need to make a bit fuzz about a hurting hand, come on, hands hurt after every match, that's just how it goes. You wouldn't understand, you don't play volleyball! They're just gonna charge me for saying nothing, anyway! Or maybe they won't even agree to see to it without my parents and they aren't home, they're away visiting my aunt in South Korea! See, we can't go!" his breathing became very laboured and short, he started to get red, hands fidgeting and head shaking constantly, he started to speak very fast, you had trouble understanding.

You smiled at him.

"Omi... are you scared of hospitals?"

"What? No, I'm not, they're just so... full of sick people, and IV's and needles, and serious illnesses, and sadness and death, I just don't like them, who normal likes hospitals?!" he took a step backwards, almost falling of the stairs.

"Omi. Sit down."

"On the floor?"

"You showered in a gym locker room and have trouble sitting on the floor?"

He did as you asked. You kneeled down to him and took his face into your hands, causing him to twich a bit. Right, he didn't like that. You decided to put them on his shoulders instead.

You handed him his own water bottle and waiting for him to calm down a bit in silence.

"Omi, do you have any bad memories related to hospitals?" you asked gently, curling his hair with one finger. The one physical thing he really liked was you playing with his hair.

He shook his head yes, but didn't say anything.

"Okay. Do you consider them dirty, and that's why you don't want to go?"

He nodded again.

"Is there any other reason, besides these two?"

He shook his head no.

"Do you want to tell me what happened that made you hate hospitals? You don't have to, if you don't feel comfortable enough with me."

"I'll tell you later" he said quietly, looking away. He was speaking much slower and calmer than before, so you prevented the panic.

"Alright, now, listen, does it hurt more if I move it?" you asked, lifting his finger just a bit, and noticing tears form in the corners of his eyes. "Okay, it does. Now, Kiyoomi, I know you're a reasonable and mature person, and you understand the difficulties it might bring in the future if we don't check what's wrong now, right? It can be just hurt, but it seems like it's broken. If we fix it now, you'll be off for a month tops, and if we don't, well it may haunt you for a lot longer. That's logical, right?"

He nodded unwillingly, knowing where this is going.

"I understand your aversion, but some things are just beyond our control, right? So, you need to act like the man you are, and let me take you to a doctor. Alright?"

This time it took him a second to nod.

"Smiles... can you promise me two things?" he said so quietly you barely heard him, but as there was no one left in the hallway, you manage to understand.

"Whatever you want, Omi."

"Can you please, please not tell anyone about this? I'm really embarassed right now." He was still facing away, his eyebrows frowning.

"Of course I won't. We wouldn't like them to know you're not so tought and douchy all the time, right?" you laughed but he only smiled apologetically. "Hey, Omi, one thing. I'll like you the same, even if there's something in the world that you're afraid of. Even if there's a lot of these somethings. In fact, Omi, I'm sure there's nothing that would make me stop liking you, alright? You don't need to get embarassed in front of me. You don't need to get defensive every time you feel something. You're human, it's actually good you do. Understood, Sakusa?" you added the last part in a very demanding voice, as if you were scolding him, but you failed and giggled at the end.

"Understood." he responded, feeling a bit reassured. "Now that you've said that... for the second thing, uhm..." He started playing with his sweatpants' material nervously.

"Just say it, Omi, I already told you I'll do it all" you said comforting him, still pretending to give all your attention to his hair, so he'd feel more comfortable.

"Could you maybe... go into the examination room with me? I will freak out alone" he asked, facing the floor, but then got up quickly and turned away. "No, wait, forget I said anything."

"Omi" you sighed "Stop acting like a big baby already, of course I will, I would even if you didn't ask. Now stop pouting and give your prom date a hand so she knows you won't run away when she's not looking" you played it off cool and he turned back to you, smiling a bit.

"Right, my prom date. I never thought I'd have one"

"But I'm here, am I not? And now stop changing the subject and let your prom date take you to a doctor. Right now, mister!"

You left the school and went to the nearest train station, where Sakusa put on his face mask and pouted at you for making him do this. However heartbreaking he might've looked, you knew it was necessary and that you were doing the right thing. Your train arrived on time and after getting in, you noticed his leg was shaking unconsciously. You were really wondering what happened to him that made him hate hospitals so much, but this wasn't the right place to ask. If he wanted to, he'd tell you himself.

"So, Omi, what was that with asking me to come over before? You'd never done that." you decided to change the subject a bit to maybe loosen him up for a while.

"Well, that's a difficult question, actually" he answered very quietly, causing you to sit closer in order to hear.

"I'm only asking because, you know, many times in the past I wanted to do that but you always became practically furious while disagreeing, so it's a huge suprise for you to suggest it yourself"

"I know" he replied calmly, playing with the string of your hoodie with his one good hand. "Well I just figured, if I am to take you to prom, and there's going to be way too many people for me to be comfortable, maybe it'd be easier if I started with smaller things, like maybe show you my room, or hold your actual hand instead of the sleeve, so I don't freak out and let you down on the prom night" he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

You felt your chest fill up with a warm feeling. Did he truly care that much about a highschool party? Did he care that much about, well, you?

"Omi, you don't have to push yourself too hard just to please me, I'll be fine if you just stay yourself" you said, taking the hair off his eyes. "And besides, it would be really hard for you to let me down, don't worry about that."

"It's just that... I know I can be a total dick sometimes, but truth be told I really do... like you, and care about you, and all that stuff" he stopped to hide his face with his arms and bend over to face the floor. "Even if I say I don't. It's just a weird feeling I didn't want to face because it was new. But I'm not letting that ruin your highschool memories."

"Sakusa. Let me tell you something about girls and prom, alright? For most of us it's not the prom that matters. Of course, it's nice to have an opportunity to dance with your friends and classmates and have fun, but for that, we can go alone. That whole thing with waiting for a guy to ask you out is so, so cliché! We don't wait to be asked to prom just to be asked. We wait for that one person to show affection towards us by asking, that's what makes it so special. And you already did that! You wouldn't even be able to understand how happy that made me! Just yesterday I was texting with my friend, complaining about how pleased I would be if only you asked me, but I was certain that would never happen. And then it did, when I least expected it!"

"Did it really make you that happy?" he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Yes, yes it did, I'm a stupid teenager and silly things like that satisfy me. Got a problem with that, Sakusa?" you laughed, playfully hitting him on the arm.

"Oh no, no, please, do continue being an immature baby" he responded, in a much better mood, not trying to hide his wide smile anymore.

"You're the baby here, I wasn't the one who almost cried like five minutes ago..."

"Hey! I told you not to bring that up!"

"Sorry, sir, I forgot my orders" you saluted ironically, making him roll his eyes in amusement.

And once you said that, the train door opened and the mechanic voice inside croacked out the name of the station, which turned out to be the one you needed to leave on.

And once you did, you could already see the modern building of the hospital in front of you.

"I hate the fact that I was ever born, I'd like a receipt so I can return myself"

You somehow managed to get him inside the hospital, and even to get an examination, although he didn't even want to sit, only standed and while doing so, made sure he didn't touch the walls.

But turns out waiting for the doctor was the worst part yet. He was walking back and forth throught the corridor, hands in his hair, and eyes closed most of the time. You were constantly giving him worried looks, but he didn't seem to notice.

The doctor said he'd be back with the results of the x-rey examination in about twenty minutes, but has already been fourty and he still wasn't back.

"Smiles" you suddenly heard Sakusa next to you and flinched in shock, realising you have zoned out. "What if it's serious and I won't be able to play anymore?"

"Well that certainly would've been dramatic, considering you're the number one spiker"

"Smiles! That doesn't help, like, at all!" he looked at you with pure panic in his eyes, and you were then sure that his distress had something to do with his past memories.

"Okay, okay Omi, calm down, I'm sure it's not that serious."

"You were the one who said it was!" Sakusa shouted.

"Shh, Omi, you're being too loud. Hey, why do you keep your eyes closed like that? Are you tired?" you asked. Well, of course he was, he played an entire match, and has been under a lot of stress ever since, not to mention it was already evening.

He nodded.

"They why won't you sit?"

He shook his head.

"I'd rather have my insides bleached and washed mechanically than do that" he then added, making you burst into laughter. He also smiled a bit.

"Shh, Smiles, you're being too loud" did he just mock you? Such a baby.

"Do you mind telling me now why are you so nervous about hospitals? You're a semi-professional, you know even a broken finger can't put you away for long, and still, you're this upset."

He sighed, looking into the ceiling as if he was trying to find something there. He started to play with his fingers out of nervousness, waiting to find the right words.

"Do you remember when I said my parents went to South Korea to see my aunt? Well, they're working people, they wouldn't just leave in the middle of May, on a monday, like it was nothing. They actually went over there to celebrate my cousin's fifth death anniversary, so she wouldn't be alone on such a day. He was one of my closest friends, growing up, while they still lived in Japan, but he would get sick very easily, so we'd mostly play in his room. One day, he disappeared from his house, and my parents wouldn't tell me why for weeks. I was miserable, so finally, they decided to have a serious talk with me about why my cousin couldn't play with me anymore. They said he was really ill this time and had to be transported to a hospital. And you know what I said?" you noticed he was now clenching his fists and frowning, trying to hold back emotions. "Turns out I wasn't always such a douchebag. I said that's okay, but he must be really lonely, so I'll just come play with him there. And so, my parents would bring me to see him a few times a week until we were twelve. Then I started noticing that he was becoming thinner and thinner day by day, his complexion was as pale as the walls around, and he had no energy to talk with me anymore. I would just come there and sit by his bed for hours, waiting for him to even say hi to me, but it was rare of him to do it. One time, when I was there, it was already late in the afternoon, so my parents came back with my aunt to pick me up, but as they were talking to the doctor in the hall, I heard all the machines around start to make high pitched noises. My cousin didn't look pale anymore, I only took my eyes off his for a second, because I was tired, and he turned grey, like paper. So I rushed up to him and shook his entire body, but it seemed so weightless, I already knew something was off. And the machines, they wouldn't stop making that awful noise... I ran back to the hallway and screamed at my mother and aunt to see what was happening, so they went in there and told me to wait... I was sitting there, in the hall, for what seemed like an eternity, and turned out to be an entire night. After many hours, my mother left the room, her eyes red and swollen, and alltogether she seemed smaller than when she entered. I asked her what was wrong but well, she wouldn't tell me. She'd just hug me, but I remember it being terrible, not like these warm, fuzzy hugs she always gave, but suffocating and trapping, so I started crying. She told me she loved me and went back to get my aunt, who left the room crying even harder then I was, practically screaming. Then she looked at me with such hatred in her eyes, I could practically feel my heart shatter. My mother escorted her to a different room, and I was left there to witness my cousins bed being carried out of the room, a small figure of a boy all covered by a sheet, even his face... I even noticed a teddy bear, a birthday present from me, sticking out."

You were shocked, but to the point where you couldn't even bring yourself to move, listening to Sakusa tell this sad story with a voice washed from all emotions, but with one single stream of tears rolling down his cheek. You wished you could say something, but words couldn't get out of your mouth.

"And that's why I'm not in Korea with them right now. Not because I had a match, but because she never wants to see me again, even though I'm her sister's son. After all, I was the messenger who told her about her precious son's death, wasn't I? So what if I was a kid and didn't even understand what was going on, so what if I was heartbroken myself. It wasn't a grown up's logical decision, but her emotions speaking through her, my mother had told me, but countless times at the funeral, or after, before she finally moved, had she told me she hates me. I even remember one time at my mother's birthday party, she got really drunk, and when I went down from my room to get some water, I ran into her in the kitchen. She looked at me with no emotions whatsoever and just told me she wished it were me. Just that. And then she left." Sakusa began laughing "So yeah, you can say I hate hospitals."

You adored watching him laugh, but that scared you, that wasn't his normal, vibrant laugh, but a sarcastic one, full of venom.

"Kiyoomi..."

"I guess I just don't want to be bad news to anybody, I don't want to see any more suffering that I cannot do anything about!" tears started forming in his eyes as he smashed his fist against the wall.

Well, that was heartbreaking to watch.

What could you say to him that would make him feel better? There were no words right for explaining a trauma like that. How would you even begin?

"Kiyoomi, there's nothing we can do about that now. And there's nothing you could've done then. True, the world isn't fair. It takes away the people who had done nothing wrong when they didn't even start their life properly. And true, there are scary things waiting for us around every corner. But bad things happen, and you can't do anything about it. You just have to keep going... for the two of you. If you want to truly make a difference, and not let his short life go to waste. I'm not sure there's anything more I can say, because I know how much you hate sugarcoating. I—"

"Smiles?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really proud you consider me to be the tough guy here, but... you're a better hugger than my mom" he whispered, still facing the ceiling.

"Sure, Omi" you said, wrapping your arms around his waist. It was difficult to give him a comfort hug, considering the fact you were tiny compared to his 6,2", but what could you do. You felt him lean over and squeeze you really, really tight, his arms shaking a bit, as he put his face in your hair, making you able to feel him breathe.

"Smiles?" he said quietly, smiling as he felt you holding the material of his jacket. You only mumbled in response, so he carried on with his question. "I'm really tired."

You didn't know how to react to that, honestly. You had never seen him like this before, he was always hiding behind a cold and douchy exterior.

"Just a few more minutes, and we'll be going home" you finally responded, patting his back. "The doctor has to tell you the results and somehow secure that finger from getting even more hurt"

"We'll be going home?" he asked, and you felt embarassement rise in your stomach.

"Well... you DID say you're inviting me over, and I don't trust you not to play with the bandage you're gonna get"

He laughed, as sweetly as normal, and you sighed with relief.

"I suppose I might've said something like that."

"Well then be a man and live up to your promise"

"I never PROMISED anything"

"Oh come on, you know you want to, I'm your prom date!" You laughed, but all of the sudden you felt a movement and before you could object, you were mid air, held by Sakusa's tight grip, your face very near his.

"I suppose you are" you saw him smile behind his face mask, but were too shocked by this sudden burst of affection to be able to answer.

"Now, Sakusa-kun, I highly suggest you stop doing that to your hands, unless you want another injure to the list" you heard an adult speaking behind you, and the next thing you knew, you were falling to the ground, glaring deadly at Sakusa, who's attention was already somewhere else. "Come in, I'll show you your results"

Turns out the finger was just badly injured, but still not broken, so Sakusa only needed to take three weeks of holidays from playing volleyball, and as the season had ended, it wasn't a very dangerous threat. You were now walking home from your train station, Sakusa's eyes constantly closing, due to tiredness. Your heart was pounding it's way out of your chest, when he finally opened the gateway to his house, and stepped to the side to let you in. You felt blush coming to your cheeks while he turned the key inside his door's lock. You were looking closely at everything after entering the house. It was close to what you've imagined, designed in a modern style, the walls grey or white, black tiles on the floor.

"You must be hungry, right?" he said, leading you to the kitchen by the sleeve of your hoodie. "Wait right here, I'm sure there's something that I can make"

You sat on a kitchen counter, making him raise an eyebrow in slight shock.

"Practice, Sakusa" you laughed "I'm just helping you"

He rolled his eyes and put noodles in a pot on his stove.

"Move, I need to get my knife" he said, easily picking you up and putting you on another counter. You turned away, blushing uncontrollably.

"Oh my, okay, Sangwoo" you said, making him want to kill you with his look. "Wait, you understood the reference? Look at you, being a weeb"

"Well he was an interesting person after all" he said weighing the knife in his hand with a sarcastic grin on his lips. He then proceeded to prepare the best tomato sauce you've ever EVER eaten in your entire life. He turned as red as the tomatoes when you pointed that out, only telling you to shut up and eat already.

You helped him clean, but he wasn't so happy about it, claiming your "dishwashing habits" were different than his.

And then it was finally the time for you to see his room. You followed his up the stairs, and then entered a room you've least expected.

It was... completely normal. It wasn't clean on every centimetre, it wasn't all white and septic, no, it was just a normal teenage boy's room. His Itachiyama Team hoodies laying around on the deskchair, a big computer with gaming headphones, a small bookshelf with novels and even some mangas, a huge bed in the corner, draped with black bedding and Star Wars and Marvel throw pillows. It was clean, of course, there was no dirty dishes or socks laying around, but besides being overall tidy, it was totally normal.

But what suprised you the most, was the most beautiful being you've ever seen in your entire life, and no, not Sakusa. A fluffy, white cat.

It was a breeded cat, you knew that instantly, even having a heart as good as his Sakusa wouldn't allow a stray in his house, due to his problems with germs. From what you recognized, it was a Birman Cat. You gasped in awe upon seeing it, already kneeling down to pet it.

"Look at you, cutie, who're you? Awwe, look at your little paws, so soft!" the cat already crawled into your lap and sat on your thigs, purring with content. Sakusa laughed.

"You probably think we took in Lady because I needed a thoroughbred cat, not a stray right?" he picked up, throwing himself on his bed, leaving the jacket on top of other on the deskchair. He was now only in his grey sweatpants and yellow T-shirt, being a little loose, even on someone as tall as him. He groaned, realizing he forgot about his finger and now pinned it down weight of his body, whch caused it to hurt more. He then decided to sit, resting his back on the throw pillows. "Well, you're wrong if you think that. We actually decided on her because her breed has hair instead of fur, which my mother is allergic to.

Oh.

"The only thing I'm thinking right now is that Sakusa Kiyoomi named his cat LADY, and it's hillarious"

But what you were in for witnessing next was cuter than the cat itself.

"Well, that's because she is my little Lady, right?" he said in a sweet and high-pitched voice, deciding to ditch the comfortable bed and sit on the floor beside you, scratching the cat behind it's ear. "Who's my Lady? Who? Yes, you are!" he started to sound like a fourty year old lady with no family and nine cats. You bursted out laughing.

You suddenly stopped, when Lady decided it would be a great idea to... vomit on you. It was all happening so fast you didn't even notice, until you heard her clear her throat and then watched her walk away in shock. You looked at your dirty hoodie and then at the frightened Sakusa next to you, already as white as his walls.

"Oh... uhm... that was unexpected" you said, not sure what to do next.

"I am so, so s-sorry" he started to apologize "She must've e-eaten something b-bad while I was gone" he mumbled, getting up and walking around his room as if he was going to find something that could help him.

Normally he would get his mom, but she wasn't even in the country.

"Omi, it's okay, don't worry" you said, taking your hoodie off carefully, so it wouldn't mess up the carpet or anything else. "Just, would you show me where the bathroom is?" you asked, and he nodded, leading you to the door at the end of the corridor. "Thanks" you added, putting the material in the sink and running hot water on it. Most of it came off pretty easily, and nothing else got dirty in the process, but you noticed a big stain on the chest area.

"Shit, put it in the washer" he said, taking it from you, to your suprise, and turning on the machine. Then he went back to his room, all red, and took something out of his closet. "Here, take this, I forgot to turn the radiators on, and it's cold" and thus he handed you a black hoodie, with a single yellow stip on the side, and "Sakusa" written on the back, with smaller "Itachiyama Academy Volleyball Club" below.

You froze in place.

"Wait, why are you giving me your hoodie?" you said, after gasping dramatically.

"Just take it you idiot, before I change my mind" he answered bitterly, walking over to turn on his computer. "Do you want to watch something while we wait for it to wash?" he then asked in a much calmer tone, and you silently agreed. He put on some movie you spent twenty minutes choosing, because it needed to match both yours and his interests, and after he did, you sat on the floor, focusing on the screen. "Are you dumb?" he suddenly muttered.

"What?"

"Sit on the bed like a normal person" you were suprised, but he didn't need to ask twice. You sat there, uncomfortably, at the edge of the matterace, until you heard a sigh and felt strong arms pull you back, almost to the wall. You noticed you were now half sitting, half laying on Omi's chest, legs over his, plus, he putted his chin over your head.

"Omi, what has gotten into you?" you laughed, making him sigh again.

"Do you have some sort of a problem?" he answered, visibly nervous.

"No, no I don't sir!"

"I swear I sometimes wonder why I'm attracted to a dumbass like you"

"You're WHAT?" you said, your heart skipping a beat.

"Nothing! Just watch already!" he shouted.

You giggled.

Minutes have passed and you two were just sitting there, chilling and watching the movie. You felt Sakusa's head slip over yours. Had he fallen asleep? You smiled, looking at the peaceful expression on his face. After seeing him so tired and distressed today, you were really glad he was finally getting some rest. You adjusted his head to lay by your neck instead, so it wouldn't slip all the time. The music in the movie started playing really loudly, so you turned it down and started to check your phone, while curling his hair with your fingers.

Oh, he's gonna be so grossed out when he wakes up, you almost felt bad for him for a second.

It was oddly calming to feel his even breathing on your neck, and you suddenly realized how much has changed that day. Twenty four hours before you were wondering if he'd ever even ask you out on a date, and now you were sitting on his bed, with him asleep on your neck, knowing he was going to take you to prom.

Oh, truly, what a day.

prom night, 6:28 PM

You were still fighting with your eyeshadow, when you heard the doorbell ring. Shit, that looks awful, you thought, trying to erase your mistake and do it once more. "I'll get it!" you heard your little sister shout, and smiled to yourself. The night was finally here. You were going to prom with Sakusa Kiyoomi, somehow, you still didn't know what heavensent force made him ask you.

"It's someone for sis!" she yelled.

"Tell them I'll be right there!" you shouted back, but she seemed to have ignored you, because soon after you heard your mother invite the two boys over. (Komori's sister had a licence and a car, so she was driving you all)

"Good evening, ma'am" you heard your prom date say. You almost saw him all nervous with the eyes of your imagination.

Fine, you thought, it won't get better than this. It was time to go. You took a quick look at yourself in the bigger mirror. The dress wasn't spectacular, and you did your make up by yourself, so of course you didn't look like Hollywood's next biggest star on the red carpet, but you definitely did look better than usual.

You took your purse, sprayed some perfume, and went down the stairs, watching every step, because you couldn't seem to get the hang of walking on heels yet.

"Hi guys!" you said, still watching your feet, but got no response. It seemed like everyone was there, your mom, dad, sister, Sakusa and Komori, but nobody had said a thing. You finally looked up when you reached the bottom of the stairs, to see your parents smiling slightly, your sister pouting over how jealous she was of your spotlight, Komori watching Sakusa, and Sakusa, well...

He looked as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"What's wrong, Omi?" you asked, giggling. He was still silent, so Komori hit him on the back.

He didn't look so bad himself, all the loose curls that were always framing his pale face were now carefully styled to stay at the top, not the sides. His suit was a plain, black one, with a single yellow bow tie, matching Komori's.

"You look great, by the way" you added, upon still not hearing anything from him.

Only then did he smile a bit and take a bouquet from behind his back, then hand it to you.

"That's for you. They're your favorite—"

"Freesies" you finished, looking at the white flowers in awe. "You remembered" you added, already feeling all the emotions rushing to your head. "They're beautiful, thank you"

"Well, you're still the most beautiful in the room" he mumbled, his face red. You chuckled upon hearing that cheesy phrase.

"Smooth" Komori whispered, laughing, and Sakusa promised himself to kill him later that night.

Everything went as you'd imagine it to go, you drived to your school, saw the huge crowd of students everywhere around. You smiled at Sakusa while he opened the cardoor for you, and looked at him in shock as he took your hand into his and intertwined your fingers together.

"I thought you didn't like doing that?"

"That's what people do at proms, right?" he said, smiling at you widely "I'm going to do it all, prepare for the cheesiest night of your life" he then faced away, leading you towards the entrance.

Little did you know, inside, he was practically shaking, upon seeing all these people around. He was right, there were too many of them for him to be comfortable. He was already nervous and wanted to leave, and the night hadn't even started.

"Sakusa-san! I didn't think you'd come here!" You heard some girl said. You recognized the captain of the girls' volleyball team, smiling widely, while draped all over her boyfriend. Captain Tsukasa somehow appeared from the crowd, joining the converstation by hanging his arm on the boy's shoulders, which almost caused a shiver down his spine.

"Now, how could he miss this? He's our dear ace after all, right, Sakusa-kun?"

"Right, captain" he responded, the fakest smile you've ever seen colouring his lips.

"Enjoy the party, Saku!" said Tsukasa before leaving, heading back towards the main gym arena, from which loud music could be heard.

Enjoy, yeah, right, you idiot, thought Sakusa.

He only wished he could be enjoying the party like everyone else, because then he could just focus on you and making sure you wouldn't regret coming. But he wasn't made like everyone else, and the level of comfort he felt was descreasing at a very rapid speed.

The night was going great, at least from your point of view. Hours have passed, you laughed, danced, even watch the Prom Queen election. You didn't even wish it were you up there on that stage. You already felt like a queen.

But then it all decided to go to hell.

Komori had found his place with the kids who were spiking the drinks, and now came back to you two with a questionable grin on his mouth.

"Sup, my dear lovebirds?" he started the conversation by messing Sakusa's hair playfully, only for him to correct it with disgust.

"Good, but I seem you're even better" you responded with amusement, watching him rock from side to side.

"You know, Sakusa, I never knew why you insisted on calling her Smiles, it's such a dumb nickname"

"You're dumber."

"But! But now I get it! There's an old saying..."

"I'm sure whatever your about to say isn't an old saying"

"Stop interrupting me! There's an old saying that claims, that when a boy is in love, you see it in his eyes, but when a girl is in love, you see it in her smile. Is that why you insist on calling her that? Are you counting on that, Saku-chan? I mean, she is out of your league a bit, but, I'm rooting for you, buddy!" he said, and started to walk away slowly. "Besides, Smiles, watch his eyes up close!" he laughed, and began to dance to the music that changed suddenly when he finished the sentance. It was dark around you, but you still managed to notice Sakusa's face turning red.

"I'm going to kill you, I swear, I'll strangle you with your own vocal chords and make you wish you were suddenly Ariel and forgot how to speak!" he yelled, getting more and more nervous.

He was right, you were out of his league. And he embarassed yourself in front of you a week earlier, acting like a four-year-old, and needing your help. You probably considered him a pussy right now... So all the effort he did over the last few months was for nothing. He felt like throwing up again. Suddenly the walls around him started to get closer and closer, making it seem like there was even more people there, the music became louder and in a moment he only heard the base guitar trying to rip his ears apart. And in front of him were you, looking at him with that worried expression. He remembered himself saying, "Nothing sucks more than someone calling you a poor thing"

And your eyes were calling him that right then and there. He felt small, but furious, and overall miserable.

"Omi, are you feeling okay? He was just joking, you know that, right?" you said with a slight grin on your face.

"Oh, sure, because your little Omi is just a big crybaby for whom you're just waiting to snap and run away, right? Ever since this night started, you're all looking at me like at a fucking social experiment, counting minutes until I won't be able to take it anymore, right?"

"What? Kiyoomi, that's not—"

"Shut up! Oh my god, shut up, with your condesending tone and pretending to understand how I feel! If you so wanted to babysit someone then, I don't know, watch the neighbours kid instead of playing with me like that, you idiot!" he shouted, not noticing a couple of people closest to you watching him. "If that's what you're waiting for, then fine, have your satisfaction!"

And after saying that, he turned away and started to walk towards the exit to the patio. You knew you had to follow him, but didn't know whether he wanted you to.

You decided to go.

Once he found himself at the empty patio, he put his hands over his knees and looked up at the night sky, catching his breath.

"What the fuck was that, Sakusa?" he whispered to himself, realising he had now ruined his only chance with the one girl he actually liked. And how he did it, oh lord, like a total baby he so didn't want to be compared to. He decided to loosen up his bow tie, because it seemed like it was suffocating him, and tried to calm down. "Fuck, how stupid can you get? Oh my god!"

"Omi! Could you please, PLEASE, stop running away?" he heard your voice behind his back, and turned away as soon as he did, feeling tears rolling down his face.

"Go away" he said in an empty voice, but you just shook your head.

"I'm sorry I made you feel like a child"

There was silence for a long minute, as he was fighting with his emotions.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you on your big prom night"

"Silly" you laughed "It's only big if you're a part of it"

He smiled a bit.

"You know I didn't mean that, right?"

"I always know you don't mean that."

"Well, yeah, but I wish you wouldn't have to. I just felt super uncomfortable in that room with all these people, I am not that kind of person you'd want, I'm not the super fun jock guy to take you to prom and all that shit, that's just really not me, and I tried to, I really tried to become one for you but it's just... it's just not who I am" he sighed.

"Omi. For fucks sake. You don't need to change yourself at all, I like you for you, not for someone you're not! Where did you get that idea from, dumbass?"

Well, Komori, he thought.

You moved closer to him, and he sat on a stone bench, making you stand in between his legs, looking directly into his eyes. "I would never, ever, EVER, trade you for anyone else. You're perfect the way you are, and well..." you felt the heat coming to your cheeks. "You're the Omi I fell for, after all"

You heard him giggle, and felt the warmth of his hand against your own.

"Yeah?" he said, looking up at you. "Go on then" a proud grin appeared on his lips that caused you to hit him on the shoulder in embarassement. But you did eventually go on.

"Well, there is one more thing I'd like to say but I don't think I have the courage to do it" you mumbled.

"Oh, I'm sure you do"

"Oh, you know, well... I, uhm, when I look... at... no wait, that's not how i wanted to say it. You know when... no, wrong again" You suddenly heard a slow song in the distance, coming from the gym. "Oh I love that song"

"Well" he said, getting up "I believe one of the prom night traditions is a slow dance with your date, right?" he then continued, putting both his hands on your waist and starting to sway, pulling you even closer than you already were. "And Smiles, one more thing" he adden, upon leaning over to your ear and whispering a simple sentence. You trembled, not even sure if it was from the cold, or from excitement, or from his lips so close to your face. "I do, too"

You laughed, hiding your face in his shirt and breathing in the perfume.

"You really did mean it when you said you were going to do all the cheesy stuff"

"Shut up, dumbass, I really meant it"

"I know."

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eddieeatsass · 4 years

Text

Put Your Hand in Mine

Summary: "It had been two years since he'd first kissed Eddie, and Richie was still unequivocally in love with him. He'd deluded himself into believing that his crush on Eddie would fade as time passed, that the memory of those soft lips would stop plaguing his dreams. But it only got worse as they grew, and as Eddie continued to shine brighter than the fucking sun. So sue him, he was head over heels." Pairing: Reddie Rating: T Read on AO3

It had been two years since he'd first kissed Eddie, and Richie was still unequivocally in love with him.

He'd deluded himself into believing that his crush on Eddie would fade as time passed, that the memory of those soft lips would stop plaguing his dreams. But it only got worse as they grew, and as Eddie continued to shine brighter than the fucking sun.

So sue him, he was head over heels.

Eddie seemed as oblivious as ever, and Richie had never been more thankful for anything in his life. Richie could get away with pining as openly as he wanted, and Eddie remained none the wiser.

He'd settled into comfort knowing Eddie was blissfully unaware of the way Richie felt about him. In fact, he preferred it that way. If Eddie found out, they'd have to have a conversation that would undoubtedly lead to Richie dying right there on the spot. So, Richie would much rather just pine from afar and avoid that whole situation.

Eddie's obliviousness is exactly why Richie felt so secure in asking Eddie to the movies that weekend. It had been a while since they'd done something just the two of them, and even though the one on one hangouts caused butterflies to scatter about Richie's stomach, he still longed for the moments he got to savor between just the two of then

Richie sometimes let himself indulge in the delusion that they were doing these things together as a couple, that when they sat together in the dark theater, Richie could reach over and intertwine their fingers. That he could feed him popcorn and then kiss those buttery lips when no one was looking. It was embarrassing really, that Richie would spend their time together pretending it was a date while Eddie simply enjoyed his time with a friend, but Richie allowed himself these small vices.

That vice, however, was a lot harder to reign in when Eddie showed up looking far more put together than what was strictly necessary for the movies. He was wearing a brand-new button down that Richie didn't recognize, and his hair seemed freshly cut. Richie just about lost his ability to function, fighting against everything just to keep from reaching out and grabbing Eddie by the waist, allowing the line between reality and his fantasy to merge.

"Hey Rich!" Eddie greeted him with that sunny smile that made Richie's world spin on its axis. Richie thanked the gods that he was leaning against a wall for support he hadn't realized would come in handy.

"Wow Eds, looking mighty fancy for a showing of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles." Richie commented, hoping he'd been able to school his tone enough not to reveal his current state.

Eddie shrugged, looking down at himself as if to assess Richie's claim.

"I know you're used to wearing the same three shirts on repeat, but normal people actually buy new clothes every once in a while." Eddie teased.

"Touché."

"Got the tickets?" Eddie asked.

Richie's legs stopped threatening to give out beneath him for long enough to push himself off the wall and begin making his way towards the theater entrance. He held up two tickets over his shoulder in response.

"Don't say I never treat ya, kid."

Really, Richie owed Eddie money from the last time they'd gone out, so it wasn't like he was paying for Eddie exactly. If he'd given the money straight to Eddie, it would have gone towards the ticket anyway, but this way Richie got to continue the charade in his head of being the doting date to one Eddie Kaspbrak.

They stopped for popcorn on the way to their theater room. Richie got M&Ms for Eddie because be knew he liked to dump them into the popcorn, and Eddie got an extra water because be knew Richie always got thirsty halfway through the popcorn bag. With their arms full and goofy smiles carrying them down the hall, they made their way to their seats.

Richie had almost digested all the butterflies that had made their home in his stomach. There were still a few that would flutter when Eddie looked at him a certain way, or when their fingers would brush as they passed the popcorn back and forth, but Richie was feeling much more capable of taming his betraying body than he was ten minutes ago.

The previews came and went, lighting up the theater with promises of future movies that Eddie and Richie would dedicate themselves to seeing. Every time Eddie would lean over and whisper a little ‘we need to see that’, Richie’s heart would flutter at the thought of being able to do this all over again.

When the movie finally started, they sank down into their seats and turned their full attention to the screen. It was a welcome distraction for Richie, and he let himself be fully pulled into the show unfolding before them.

It was about 45 minutes into the movie when things changed. Their popcorn had long been finished, the bag sitting empty at their feet, and Richie was on his second water bottle (thank you Eddie). A fight was unfolding on screen, a battle between the ninja turtles and a new villain Richie didn’t recognize from the comics. He was so invested in the story that he almost didn’t realize when Eddie snaked his hand into Richie’s, which laid across their shared armrest with accidental invitation.

Richie jolted in his seat, having to physically hold back from letting out a noise that would probably get them kicked out. His head spun to regard Eddie whose head was still engrossed with whatever was happening in front of them.

Richie’s body felt like it was shutting down, stopping all executive functions in favor of rerouting his energy to the part of his brain that was trying to figure out what the fuck was happening.

The most logical reason Richie was able to come up with was that Eddie was a little shit.

Eddie always berated Richie for taking up the entire arm rest to himself every time they went to the movies, so this was probably his way of teaching Richie a lesson. He could almost hear Eddie’s voice saying ‘Well, I wouldn’t have to do this if somebody had learned the concept of sharing in kindergarten’.

Richie decided then that if Eddie was going to be petty, then so was he. He would hold Eddie’s hand until it got sweaty and unbearable.

It never got sweaty and unbearable. In fact, the longer they held hands, the more Richie sank into the comfort it offered him. By the time the credits were rolling, it felt like second nature. Of course they were holding hands, this was Eddie and Richie loved him and therefore he held his hand.

That’s when the realization hit Richie like a freight train. He’d allowed himself to be consumed by his daydream, convinced himself that they were on a date and Eddie loved him back and unicorns existed.

Richie suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

“I gotta go take a piss.” Richie muttered, shooting up from his seat and speed walking out the door.

His hand tingled, still warm from the heat of Eddie’s. Richie shook it violently as if he could wick off his feelings like water.

Richie took twice as long as he needed to in the washroom, dreading what was to come when he left the safety of his stall. He practiced what he was going to say to Eddie enough times that he was sure the entire male population at the theater had heard him, but he still found himself speechless when he walked out of the bathroom to see Eddie waiting for him.

“Hey.” Eddie smiled encouragingly.

“Hey.” Richie answered, mouth flapping open and shut like a fish out of water.

“So, if you want, uh, we can just forget that ever happened.” Eddie blurted suddenly.

“Do… you want to pretend it never happened?” Richie asked cautiously, trying to read Eddie’s expression.

Eddie took a moment before shaking his head. It was such a small movement Richie might have missed it if he hadn’t been observing Eddie so closely.

“It’s fine, Eds.” Richie continued nervously. “I’m no stranger to taking the joke too far. And now I’ve learned my lesson, I promise to never hog the arm rest ever again.”

Eddie’s face contorted in confusion, causing Richie’s to mimic the same.

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

Richie stared at Eddie calculatingly.

“…What are you talking about?”

“Richie.” Eddie sighed, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “What is going on in your head right now.”

“Uhhhhh, you held my hand because you wanted the arm rest.” Richie babbled dumbly.

Eddie continued to stare at him, that same amusement now accompanied by a smug little smile.

“And does that make sense?” Eddie’s tone was teasing.

“What other explanation is there?”

“That maybe…” Eddie’s hand reached forward, brushing against Richie’s delicately. “I just wanted to hold your hand.”

“That’s even less logical than my reasoning.” Richie countered with an exhausted huff.

“Why?”

Eddie’s face was completely open, but there was something vulnerable there too. Something Richie hadn’t seen in a long time, not since-

“Eds… are you… gay?” Richie made sure to ask in a hush, leaning closer to Eddie so those around them couldn’t overhear.

Eddie leaned in as well, closing the space between them until there was only a breath between their lips. Flashes of the first time they kissed clouded Richie’s thoughts. Eddie had grown so much since then, filled out into a body that harnessed all his allure in the perfect package. Richie wanted to know what it would be like to kiss him now.

“Are you?” Eddie whispered.

Richie gulped, nodding even though he had a feeling Eddie already knew the answer. In fact, it was seeming more and more likely that Eddie was privy to much more than Richie’d thought he was, and that realization was terrifying.

“Good, I’m glad we have that settled.” Eddie stated in an almost business-like fashion. Richie almost cracked a smile. "Hopefully our second date goes better than this one has."

Richie’s entire face went blank.

"THIS WAS A DATE?!" Richie shouted, earning a shush from Eddie through unrestrained giggles.

"Come on, Rich, I'm not completely oblivious. I knew you were asking me on a non-official-date date. I've known you for years, I know your tells."

"What tells? I have tells!?"

Before Richie could get an answer, Eddie was joining their hands once again, this time dragging Richie behind him towards the theater exit.

"What tells, Eddie?!"

Eddie simply looked over his shoulder, all innocent eyes and bashful smile. He seemed determined to keep his secrets for now, and to Richie's surprise, he didn't care all that much.

Because Richie was holding Eddie's hand, and it was infinitely better than that silly kiss had been all those years ago. This signified something, it was the start of Richie’s fantasies bleeding into reality, tangible in the way Eddie’s hand slotted perfectly into his.

#reddie week 2020 #reddieweek2020 #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie fic #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fluff #my writing #my posts

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queer-as-used-by-tolkien · 3 years

Note

13 right back at you! Also 15 if it doesn't get too long.

13 - explain how mesmers work!

I've actually done a lot of thinking about this and it is, of course, heavily entwined with my theory of how magic works in general, but I'll try to keep it simple.

I got this idea of magic from the Aspects of Glint - Wind, Sun, and Lightning - and so to make things simpler I went ahead and named the different types of magic, at least as far as I could see them. Mesmer magic is called the Aspect of Deception, which actually correlates to one of the schools of magic we get from Bloodstones. (That was completely accidental.)

Also, I completely agree with your idea that some mesmers are good at manipulating the physical world and some are good at manipulating your mind - I've mostly thought about the ones that are good at manipulating the physical world, so most of the following only applies to them.

But anyway, the idea is that mesmers and thieves both use the Aspect of Deception. At first I thought the difference between a mesmer and a thief was just power, but I've refined that somewhat: mesmers specialize in convincing you that you can't trust your senses. You know what you're seeing is wrong - but only half the time. You're not sure what's real and what's not. Thieves, on the other hand, specialize in convincing you that everything is perfectly normal when it isn't. The thief isn't here practicing his thievery, for example - he's invisible. Thieves do use mesmer-esque spells on occasion, which is where I got the idea they're linked - one of their elites summons three clones (which is why I thought the difference was power, because that's an everyday mesmer thing).

As for clones and illusions: well, most of this derives from what we see in-game mesmers doing - you can make a clone or illusion of another person than yourself, you can disguise a person as someone else, etc. and of course this doesn't just extend to people.

Illusions can be just visual apparitions if you want them to, with no substance, like ghosts; these of course take less power. I also believe that mesmers can manipulate the other senses, though we don't see this much in-game; a mesmer can make you hear things, smell things, etc. Each one is different, though, so it's sort of like if your field is the Aspect of Deception, there are many subschools and most mesmers specialize is visual and physical effects since those are the most useful.

By 'physical' I mean illusions that you can touch and feel, which are more common among mesmers. The idea is that you concentrate power in the illusion, more and more power until it's so concentrated it's physically there, takes up physical space and you can feel it. Clones and illusions are just highly, highly concentrated magic, given form by your mind. Then when you shatter them, this magic kind of breaks and splinters all over the place, and some of it goes into your enemies and hurts them. That is complicated and I'll leave it for another time.

But here's the thing: illusions of people are ridiculously complex, and either you need to have a very focused mind that is also capable of multitasking, or that's not exactly how it works. I think your idea of how people are shaped is a generally subconscious assumption, so if you tell your magic 'hey look like a person,' it'll know what a person is and form into the shape of a person based on your subconscious pattern. Illusions of yourself are quite clearly easier, because you have a much better idea of what you are physically than someone else, and it does take active concentration to remember that this clone is supposed to look like that guy instead.

But the cool part is that since the clones are based on your subconscious understanding of how people are shaped, these clones are perfectly viable people on their own, except that they're made of magic and have no will but yours. This means that they get sensory input, which really feeds into your brain and it takes a lot of training to separate out these various inputs. But this is how, for example, you could have a clone go spy out a place and convey that information to you; you could also control the illusion through a conversation or really any other task that most people would expect from a person. You can of course also channel magic through a clone, because this is what clones exist for in the mechanics of the game - another source of damage.

I've heard theories that mesmer illusions are more or less programmable; for example, this illusion is pacing back and forth, but it would of course take the same exact steps every time and if someone watched long enough they might notice. I haven't really thought about it, but I feel that if you were distracted enough to have to give a set of commands to an illusion that it then carries out to the best of its ability, or pre-program it - if that's necessary, you're probably not focusing enough to keep the illusion there in the first place, and also it doesn't have a mind of its own to be able to 'follow commands to the best of its ability.'

Now, on to the cool part: teleportation. I've explained clones because those are relevant to how thieves shadowstep, which is basically that they make a clone of themselves at another location, and then take the sensory input and use that to focus their whole mind through to the clone until that's where their mind is - and if you put enough magic into a clone, of course, it's no longer just made of magic but it manifests as flesh and blood (not just the illusion of feeling like flesh and blood), and since your magical core carries that kind of magic that happens naturally when you transfer your consciousness there. Of course, any given thief will have done this countless times before, so most thieves are walking around in these magically-constructed bodies, and when you switch to a new one the magic dissipates or shatters or something. That's how I imagine it, and I haven't actually thought about what happened to their original body. It probably just died from lack of a mind. On the other hand, you could totally headcanon that thieves always have to go back for their 'real' bodies, but that's less fun...

But the really cool part about the shadowstepping system of teleportation is that mesmers can't do it. Or, they can - that's what blinks are - but it's super dangerous. Thieves don't use clones all that much - summoning them is an elite skill (unless they're shadowstepping) - but mesmers use clones all the time, and since the sensory input can be used to transfer your consciousness into a clone, it can actually be very easy for a mesmer to mix up and forget which of the four identical people on the battlefield is their own self. So mesmers need to have a very concrete idea about which one is their own self, and if they make a habit of shadowstepping their minds into other clones, that's nearly impossible. Some mesmers can do it, of course, and that's why you have the blink skill, but the risk vs reward is relatively low.

What's the problem with getting who you are confused? Well, that's because it has to be very intentional when you shadowstep - you have to know where you are and where you're going. If you're just mistakenly looking through the eyes of the wrong person, and haven't actually transferred your magical core there, the real you might be in danger and die, and then you're gone. So most mesmers don't do it at all even if they theoretically have the mental capacity or skill to do it without much danger.

Mesmers just use portals instead, which bend space and time sort of like a Tesseract (if you've read A Wrinkle in Time), which brings two points in space together momentarily. I have thought that I need to think about portals just a little bit more - to figure out what exactly the process of moving from Point A to Point B is - more like an asura gate, where theoretically you could stick an arm through but not your whole self, or is more like elevators in cities that just take your whole self if you enter the field. I don't know yet, but I'm slightly leaning toward the second one.

Also: chronomancy! I have thought about this a little. (Sorry Mirages, I haven't thought about you at all...) You can't actually rewind time, of course - even some of the skill descriptions say that time 'snaps back' when you're done with the spell, causing additional effects. I've seen an ask response on this topic that says it's all in your mind, but I don't think so, at least not for the physical, world-manipulating mesmers.

Chronomancy requires a load of power, because, inside the spell radius, you've said 'turn time back to X state' or else 'rewind time until I say stop' and, like making illusions, the details of this are mostly subconscious. But what it does is it takes all physical entities and moves them backwards in order to simulate time rewinding. Chronomancy does have a mental component, of course, and that is that it makes everyone but the caster forget about the intervening time, creating the illusion (hehe) that no time has passed. Advanced chronomancers, of course, can specify this and prevent their allies from forgetting - or, if they're being particularly confusing, prevent their enemies from forgetting, or prevent one enemy from forgetting so he starts sounding like a lunatic. This can also heal! If you're moving things backwards through time, that includes healing wounds back to their former state.

Also, and I just remembered this, but you can make a non-person illusion convey sensory input. I have one character who shot a bullet (he's a thief) and, upon impact, granted him one second of vision of what was going on over there. You can also silence things like guns, you can block out all noisy distracting. Also, this thief actually set up a recording of some epic soundtrack played at inaudible volume inside his rifle and used the Aspect of Deception to make a sort of sound-proof bubble around himself, and then used magic to magnify the epic soundtrack so he could feel like a hero on the battlefield. (He has a very strong sense of drama XD... his friends roll their eyes at him.)

I also have my main mesmer character use this 'sound proof bubble' concept to have private conversations in busy places, and a sort of variant of it - catching the sound out of a person's mouth and carrying it to her ears, and throwing her own voice into their ears - to silently communicate across greater distances while trying to be sneaky. Sort of like magical ventriloquism, I guess.

So, that's all for mesmerism! I know I focused on thieves a bit, but it was significantly within the scope of the question and I fell like the spirit of the question includes them, given my headcanons.

Thanks for asking! I've been carrying these theories around in my head for quite some time and weaving them into my stories, it was nice to be able to try to express them eloquently all in one place!

Now, you said '15 if it doesn't get too long,' and the prompt mentions quaggan (...and dredge?) but I'll just tag you on a separate post. (It'll be shorter, I promise!)

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Soulbonds and Fairy Dust

TITLE: Soulbonds and Fairy Dust (rewrite) CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 36/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine one of the fae has been helping the Avengers, jumping in to help them on missions and vanishing before Shield can bring her in. Loki joins the team and convinces her to come talk to the team and consider joining before Shield takes more drastic measures. RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: This is a rewrite of the original work of the same name. Also on AO3 here

Loki looked impressed. No wonder she could truename so much stronger than the other fae. “Are you the only one with that power?” he asked. He was always so curious and that didn’t change now.

Sig nodded. “I am, which makes it more dangerous when I truename things and when oaths are sworn in my presence,”

“Why is that?”

She paused and considered how to best explain that. “Well, I can identify anyone and anything’s truename, which is dangerous enough, since that gives me at least some power over that being, as you saw me do to Jareth,” Loki was nodding along, so she continued. “The other thing very, very few people know I can do and it takes a lot of power to do so, but I can change something’s true name, change their nature entirely,” she told him softly, sharing one of her secrets with him. No one outside of Underhill knew she could do that and she wanted to keep it that way.

Loki’s brows furrowed in confusion and disbelief. “Change their nature? That shouldn’t be possible,” he protested.

“And yet, I can,” she told him with a shrug. “I’ve only done it a couple of times, and it’s not something to be done lightly, especially since it takes a lot of power to do, but I can,”

“That is quite impressive,” Loki commented and thought it over before he found his next question. “What natures have you changed?” he asked gently, feeling that it might not be an easy story.

She sighed before she started, but she had agreed to answer questions, and she wouldn’t hide her past from him. “Once by accident when I was a child, I changed the nature of one of the hunt hounds so it would be my friend instead of the savage hunter it was being trained to be. I didn’t understand what it was I’d done at the time,” she explained. Loki nodded. Accidental magic among children was common and understood. She hesitated before she continued. “The other time, I’m not proud of…,” she told him softly, letting him know how difficult this story would be to tell.

“Tell me when you’re ready, darling. I won’t force you into anything,” he reassured her quickly, making sure she knew that he wouldn’t force or pressure her to tell him things that she wasn’t ready to. He was here to support her, not pressure her.

She sighed, but pressed on. “It was when I was being evaluated for my place in the court when I came of age. One of the gray ladies had an evening with one of the lords of the unseelie court and her child wasn’t up to seelie perfection. She claimed she had been unable to see through his illusion, but that didn’t change that the child was born covered in feathers. I was told to change the child’s nature to fit the standards of the seelie court or she would be killed for her imperfection,” she told Loki, admitting what she’d done with sorrow in her tone. She hadn’t wanted to change her nature, but there had been no choice.

“What happened?” he pressed gently.

“I gave the child a new truename,” she told him simply. She’d changed her to be seelie perfect as required. It had been the only way to save her life. “The last time I saw her, she was a toddler with bright gold hair and eyes,” she told him, then sighed. “Her mother catches her staring longingly at the sky though and I know I took it from that girl. She will never fly, because of my meddling,” she told him softly, sorrow haunting her eyes at what she had done, though it was awhile ago.

“I’m sorry, love,” Loki told her gently, pulling her into his arms.

Sig let him, accepting the comfort he offered. “As I said, I’m not proud of it, but it was a choice between changing her nature or letting her be killed. I made the only choice I could,” she said with a hitch in her voice. It had been a difficult decision at best and she knew she cost the girl her wings and stripped the sky from her.

“I understand, darling,” she heard his own haunted past in his words. “Some choices are not easy but they must be made,” he told her gently.

She nodded, glad that he understood, though she wouldn’t press him for the details on how. He would tell her when he was ready. “The oath thing can have some interesting results depending on my mood. I’ve had to witness thousands of weddings since coming into my dominion. Needless to say couples who vow to remain faithful in my presence, will remain faithful,” she told him with a smirk and mischief in her eyes. The fae weren’t known for their fidelity.

“That’s amazing,” Loki told her, sounding truly impressed.

She nodded. “But it takes a touch of power and me actually feeling like enforcing the oaths, so normal everyday promises are usually safe in my presence. Usually,”

“So I should be careful what oaths I make in her presence?” he teased.

“You’re safe. I like you too much. The moron who cheated on his girlfriend and swore to eat a million beetles to prove himself to her should have been more careful who was in the room when he made that oath…” she laughed at the old memory.

Loki’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “Oh wow. Note to self: never piss off Sigyn,” he teased, laughing at the poor fool’s misfortune.

She giggled. “You’re just now figuring that out?” she asked him just as teasingly.

“No, but that really brings it to the forefront. You can be terrifying when you want to be,” he was teasing, but also shocked and awed that she’d done that to someone.

“It’s not my fault he swore to eat a million beetles!” she protested indignantly.

Loki laughed. “Did you stay and watch him follow through?” He asked, genuinely curious as to what had become of the man who had vexed Sig.

She laughed. “That was a hundred years ago. I think he’s still working on it. He was halfway through last I heard,”

“Wow. And the girl? Has she stuck around?”

“Hell no. She was never going to forgive him anyway,” she said with a shrug. He’d been moronic to think she would.

“What an idiot. And now he’s stuck eating beetles for a few centuries,” Loki mused.

She laughed. “So he is. Maybe he’ll learn not to cheat again when another girl deigns to allow him to court her,”

“If that ever happens. I’m sure rumors have spread about his infidelity,”

“They have. He keeps having to explain why he’s eating beetles, and the fae can’t lie,” she reminded him. Sig was among the exceptions to that rule and she couldn’t lie well at all. “The court also learned to watch who was in the room before making rash promises. I may have enforced some just because they sounded like fun…” she added with a hint of mischief in her voice.

He grinned childishly. He loved mischief after all. It was in his nature. “Tell me about them? I love a little mischief,”

“A young lordling promised to profess his love for his lady in front of the entire court. He had no intention of actually doing so and was just saying the words as romantic fluff,” she giggled at the memory. “The poetry he read her was awful and the queen was livid at being interrupted by a lordling demanding he be allowed to recite poetry for his lady,” she told him as she laughed over it.

Loki joined in her laughter. “He must have been so embarrassed,”

“So very, very embarrassed,” she agreed. “And then he was scolded by the queen for making such a rash promise in the first place,”

“Especially with you present,”

She nodded, then smirked when she thought of something. “You’re not going to warn the warrior boys about that skill of mine, are you?” she teased.

“Not a chance,” he replied with a smirk of his own.

She giggled. “Wonder what stupid thing Fandral’s going to say,” she paused. “Or what stupid thing you’re going to goad him into saying,” she corrected herself quickly.

Loki chuckled. “It could be anything. That man is the definition of the word imbecile,”

She paused in her laughter. “Hopefully it’s not something Mama Frigga will be too upset with me for enforcing,” no one wanted to upset Mama Frigga.

“Don’t worry, love. I wouldn’t do anything to get you in trouble with Mother,”

“No, but Fandral might. I think he’s offended I’m not swooning over him like the feather brained noble ladies,” she made a face, letting him know exactly what she thought of that behavior. She wasn’t one to swoon and she liked to believe that she wasn’t one of the feather brained noble ladies who Loki so despised.

“I would agree. Though the noble ladies love the attention,”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s annoying and as featherbrained as the rest of them. Not my type,” she made another face to solidify that point.

“I agree. I can barely stand being in his presence for a long period of time without wanting to smite him where he stands,” Loki grumbled. He hated Thor’s moronic friends. With the exception of Sif.

“Or drug him with fairy wine?” she teased with a grin.

He chuckled. “Or that,”

“Speaking of, did you want to try it?” she asked as she summoned the bottle. The magic in the wine would help her recover. It wouldn’t help much, but any little bit was helpful, especially with how worried Loki was.

Loki looked interested. He was curious about everything, including the magic wine. “Sure,” he agreed.

Sig nodded and looked him over, gauging him and his magic before carefully pouring out a small glass. She handed the glass over to him and poured a much larger wine glass for herself. The wine wouldn’t hurt her and if Loki was careful, it wouldn’t hurt him. He took a small sip and she saw in his eyes that it was the sweetest, most delicious wine he’d ever tasted. On top of that it was mixed with magic, making it even better. Loki hmmed in pleasure over it. “That is exquisite,” he purred

She nodded and sipped on her own wine. “That it is,” she agreed.

Loki looked concerned as he took another sip. “How dangerous is this wine?”

“You saw what it did to the morons,” she reminded him. “It’s dangerous, especially to those without magic. It’s easy for them to get drunk on it, or addicted to the magic within it. It’s also easy to influence them while they’re drunk on it. They’ll follow whatever orders are given to them,”

He blinked and she saw his worry. “And to those with magic?” he asked, concerned, though he knew she wouldn’t hurt him, the concern was still there.

“Don’t fret, love. I wouldn’t give you anything that would hurt you. You’ll be fine as long as you don’t drink too much of it. And it replenishes magic. Worst it’ll do to a fae is get us drunk,” she added before he could ask if she was in any danger from it.

He seemed relieved but still said: “I know. I trust you,”

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #Soulbonds and Fairy Dust #chapter 36 #rewrite #nekoamamori

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years

Text

Pumpkin Disaster

Richard could almost smell the cinnamon spice, vanilla scent and cinnamon sugar in the air. The colors of the leaves changed from green to a dazzling display of red, orange and yellow. The air became crisper and temperatures dropped a bit as a chill came into the air.

Richard Grayson absolutely loved Halloween. As expected of the eldest Wayne sibling, he was the kind of person who enjoyed decorating and preparing the manor for Halloween because of his everlasting enthusiasm for holidays. He loved the cheesy and horror movies, the excuse to stuff his face with candy, the seasonal special editions of cereal, the elaborate and extravagant costumes, the creative decorations. It was his second favorite holiday. And he definitely considered it a holiday.

Halloween wasn’t just a day to him. Oh no. The whole month of October was Halloween. But with his vigilante duties, intermittent Titans training and constant Gotham crises cropping up, he had made it through two weeks of the month without an ounce of Halloween festivity. But that was about to change.

“You never carved pumpkins for Halloween?” Dick Grayson asked incredulously, pressing a hand to his chest in a move overly dramatic.

Damian exclaimed a familiar ‘TT’ in response. For him seeing people playing pretend, wearing flashy and ridiculous costumes was not particularly interesting. Thought they weren’t much different from the impractical clothing Todd and Richard insisted on wearing. It was just a recurrent reminder that he was not a normal child.

“Which part of I was raised in the inhospitable and desolate mountains you didn’t comprehend, Grayson?” Damian brusquely returned with furrowed eyebrows.

“But we cannot celebrate it without carving your first pumpkin...” Grayson sounded so downhearted it stung Damian with shadowy guilt. Out of all his adoptive siblings Grayson was the pleasant and tolerable one. Damian swallowed hard.

“I want all of us to carve a pumpkin!” Dick declared holding up his index finger in contempt. Damian raised a dark eyebrow as a go on communicating silently. “We are all doing this together as a family.”

“It’s not necessary. I’m not a small child anymore.” Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes before refocusing on his Robert Frost book, flipping another page. No. He would not acquiesce easily into this. He was self-sufficient, mature preteen. Not a child.

“Demon spawn, you are only eleven.” Jason commented before putting out a finished cigarette. Fortunately Alfred wasn’t lurking around to give him disapproving eyes for smoking inside the manor.

“Is this your way of asking for a new scar, Todd?” Damian threatened through gritted teeth and clenched fists, mind quickly calculating the damage of throwing an explosive batarang.

“You’re getting less insufferable to be around.” Jason scoffed and met Damian with a sly smirk. “Dickie, pouting is not an acceptable reaction for a full-grown adult.” Jason sing-songed as he grabbed his motorbike keys.

“This includes you Jaybird. I plan on getting you into the Halloween spirit.” Dick announced with his authoritative leader tone, letting Jason know he would be part of this wether he liked it or not.

Jason groaned dreadfully, cursing under his breath. Great. Now he was part of the Halloween circus. At least he didn’t have to take the annoying gremlin pumpkin picking. God knows what would happened if they fed him candy. The thought gave Jason chilling goosebumps.

Damian folded his arms over his chest in a sign of disagreement. “I don’t do pumpkins. It’s a waste of food. It amounts to about 18,000 tons of pumpkin, including flesh and seeds. Have you read the recent studies on how it’s destroying the environment?”

“Come on, D. You will have fun. You can carve your own Robin lantern” Dick encouraged, practically vibrating with excitement. Damian wondered what on earth he did to deserve such blinding sunshine as his adoptive sibling. “...and I’m sure Alfred will find a convenient way to make use of the pumpkins.”the last words seemed to have done the trick to convince the younger boy.

Damian considered the options carefully for a solid minute. He knew better than ignoring Richard wouldn’t get him anywhere. He wouldn’t leave it alone. Sigh. If it meant he could help Pennyworth baking a pumpkin spice pie with ginger-snag crust...

“Lead the way, Grayson.” Damian sighed resignedly.

Dick squealed in joy, bouncing to his feet and wrapping his arms around Damian’s neck.

It was just pumpkin carving what exactly could go wrong. Right?

~~~

Less than two hours later Jason Todd walked into the kitchen of the Wayne manor, initially looking for a cup of peppermint tea as the Gotham chilly autumn winds were making him crave a hot beverage.

“Would anyone care to explain why is there a whole fucking pumpkin patch on the kitchen table?” Jason muttered audibly, mouth opened in stupefaction. What in the name of Halloweentown....Where did all these pumpkins come from?

“Language, Jay.” Dick scolded him glancing up at him over a pile of massive mutant pumpkins with a provoking grin.

“I grew up in the Narrows. I’m allowed to swear.” Jason rolled his eyes in reply as he tried to avoid stepping on the pumpkins, accidentally squashing them, they were scattered on the floor, table, those fucking things were everywhere. “Dickie, are you going to explain?”

“These are from Roy.” Richard gestured the numerous orange bulbs with his right hand. “I think he got these from some illegal smuggling bust. I didn’t really ask a lot of questions. I just accepted them because I thought it’d be fun to try carving Batman lanterns with little D.”

It took Jason less than two minutes to process the information. Why was the golden boy not bothered by this?

“You mean these are contraband pumpkins.” He remarked skeptically, green-blue eyes widening still rather incredulous.

Dick simply shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d have a problem.”

Right. Only if Bruce found out about the origin of the contraband pumpkins. Then he’d be blamed for being the bad influence and his merry band of disreputable friends. He groaned as he rubbed the nape of his neck.

“And where is the demon spawn. I don’t seem him anywhere.” He questioned narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side the slightest. He had to be close to Dick, but the kitchen was alarmingly too quiet. Too quiet for his liking. This meant trouble.

Tim didn’t try too hard not to flinch as a knife flashed dangerously close to his face and flied past Jason. “This is the third time in the last hour. I’m starting to think it’s personal.” Tim spoke calmly with a sarcastic tone as he continued sipping his black coffee expressionless as usual. Getting knifed by the little demon spawn before Halloween would hav been the cherry on top of the misfortune cake.

Jason was genuinely concerned and wondered how many cups of coffee Tim has had today. Hopefully not over five.

“If he wanted you dead, you’d be already in a casket.” Jason pointed out. It was no secret Damian’s strong aversion towards replacement, but he didn’t wish the shortstack dead.

Tim just shrugged his shoulders casually. “Well, I suppose we always could use your old one.” Fuck that. He took it back.

“Low blow, replacement.” Jason feigned hurt putting a hand to his chest right above his heart in a offended manner.

“It’s juts not cooperating.” The young kid voiced his frustration and discontentment . Leaving the kitchen knife he used on the table. Tt. He was trained and raised for excellence and he couldn’t carve flawlessly a stupid pumpkin. Mother would be entirely displeased.

“Requires time and practice, Dami.” Dick whispered softly with a warm smile, running his hand up and down the preteen’s back.

“I don’t know D, to me it looks like you’re slaughtering it mercilessly.” Jason joked with a wolflike smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Head moving in different angles trying to find a figure or face in the pumpkin Damian had been carving. “Unless you were thinking of the Joker, If so then you have my seal of approval.” The little demon spawn was never the most pleasant person to be around but deep,very deep down maybe Jason had a soft spot for him. Not that he would ever admit it out loud. Never.

“Do us a favor and keep your mouth shut, Todd.” Damian barked, glaring daggers at him.

“I never did Halloween with my parents.” The words escaped Tim’s mouth before his brilliant brain registered the order. The pain wasn’t there anymore. No. There were charity Galas, social events for wealthy socialites, last minute journeys for significant discoveries. Because people often assumed there will be plenty of time later. Tim didn’t want Damian to live for the later.

“I remember trading a cheap wristwatch for expired candy once. Not a great deal.” Jason muttered nonchalantly, giving it unimportance. Tone flat and factual. His memories from the narrows weren’t memorable for being happy or enjoyable but he had what he managed to obtain and he did what was necessary in order to survive. Nothing to be ashamed of.

“There’s always a first, Timbo.” Dick placed sympathetically a hand on Tim’s shoulder in a comforting way. Tim smiled softly back. Well, perhaps this pumpkin carving experience could be fun.

~~~

“This is the grossest thing I’ve ever done.” Tim announced, scooping a handful of pumpkin guts out of his pumpkin and examining them distastefully. “Seriously. I’ve done some pretty gross things, but this takes the cake.”

Jason flicked playfully a few pumpkin seeds at him and Tim moved fast enough to evade almost all of them. “Don’t be such a crybaby, replacement.” He has been playing with the large pumpkin, stabbing it numerous times picturing the joker’s fAce.

“Look at the gremlin, he’s been doing it for like two hours. What if he’s developed an addiction?” Jason mumbled slightly concerned and half-joking to Tim.

Damian pulled the pumpkin impossibly closer to him, practically cradling the thing in his lap. His mind completely absorbed in the task of carving the perfect pumpkin. His back was pressed to the cupboards behind him, a series of knives and napkins scattered at his sides. He looked focused, impossibly focused, like there could never be a more important thing for him to pour his energy into. Because Damian Wayne even if he didn’t admit it was obsessed with maintaining perfection. Failure was not a word he accepted.

Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m fairly sure no one has ever got addicted to pumpkin carving and I can hear you, mindless fools.”

"Any behavior can become compulsive.” Tim supplied absently, eyes fixed on the small pumpkin in front of him.

Dick paused briefly from working on his Nightwing lantern to just observe Damian, not even trying to hide the smile on his lips.

Dick and Jason quietly exchange discreet glances. Quickly they picked a few pumpkin seeds out of the bowl that resided in the scented of the kitchen table, flicking them over towards Damian who squawked and tried unsuccessfully, to duck. Due to being too focused on the task assigned. “Will you stop distracting me? I have a masterpiece to finish!”

“A masterpiece?” Jason asked teasingly, glancing pointedly at his Batman lantern.

“Yes. A masterpiece, Todd.” Damian exhaled exasperated. What did anyone have to do to carve a mere pumpkin in peace?

“Come on, little D. It’s time to have some fun!” Jason threw a handful of pulpy flesh at his face. Oh. This would be seen as a declaration of war. Quickly, Damian grabbed a portion of pumpkin and aimed for Jason’s leather jacket. ‘NOT MY JACKET’ several minutes later, Drake was covered in the orange flesh from head to toes. He was in urgent need of a bath. Grayson was smart enough to grasp a breakfast tray and use it as a shield, however it didn’t work for long. Damian and Tim teamed up to caught him on the top with a surprise attack, Drake sneaking behind his back. Needless to say the kitchen was in shambles at this point. Good thing Pennyworth has been busy the whole day reorganizing the library.

“What’s all this mess in my kitchen?! Master Richard I demand a proper explanation!” A very agitated British voice came from the doorframe. Alfred very upset, furrowing his grey brows appeared looking utterly baffled by the chaos.

Oops.

“Fuck me” Jason and Richard grumbled in unison from the floor covered in pumpkin pulp. Soon they broke out in bowls of laughter all four of them. Damian genuinely laughed at his heart’s content with the innocence of a normal child. His family may have been unstable and insane, but canned if they weren’t entertaining and the best part of his new life.

Some mandatory batbros bonding October prompt 🎃 🙈🙈🙈❤️💜💜

Also I’m celebrating 1.8K followers. Thank you so much for your support and reading my stories. I appreciate it 🥺🥺

Edited here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891536

@sofiii @chromium7sky @deep-in-mind67

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kirishibi · 4 years

Text

Nights Like These | Kirishima Ejirou

Summary: You’re having a rough night struggling with your anxiety and your long time crush, Kirishima, helps you through it

Pairing: Kirishima Ejirou x Reader

Warnings: pretty vivid and possibly triggering descriptions of the physical symptoms and racing thoughts that come with an anxiety attack, non-established relationship, pining, lots of Kiri comfort, so much fluff, very very mild cursing, spoilers abt Kirishima’s backstory, (y/n)’s pretty shy in this one oops

**this fic has a lottt of comfort and fluff in it after the first quarter, but if descriptions of anxiety are triggering for you please read with caution and skip over bits if needed**

Word Count: 2.8k

a/n: chef actually writing for once??? unheard of. anyway, i was struggling really hard this week, so i wrote some kiri comfort because who doesn’t want this sweet boi to hold ur hand and tell you everything’s gonna be okay when it feels like the world’s falling apart.i legit wrote this while crying bruv if any one of my fics is a window to my soul its this one

It began with that all-too-familiar pit of dread in your stomach, an uncomfortable rush of adrenaline in your upper chest that you desperately tried to force away. Trembling fingertips, wobbling knees, the sudden urge to crawl out of your own skin. All you did was get tongue-tied while chatting with Bakugou and a few of his friends, but your fumbled words wouldn’t stop echoing through your skull, the angry blond’s mocking gaze replaying over and over again in your mind.

You barely made it to your dorm before shards of your shattered confidence gathered to form a lump in your throat, and tears stung at the corners of your eyes. You threw open the door to your room, hastily swung it shut as you entered. As heavy wood slammed into its frame, a jarring bang echoed throughout the hallway outside. You physically cringed, brows knitting together and nose scrunching in disgust at your own actions.

Damn it, you thought to yourself, everyone heard that, and now they’re all pissed at you.

This happened more times than you could count: one minor mistake drudged up what seemed like hundreds of embarrassing memories from your past, and in a matter of minutes you knew you’d wind up a sobbing mess on your bedroom floor, gasping for air, convinced that the only thing you’re truly good at is being a burden.

There was a dam inside your mind; one that held all of your regrets, self-loathing thoughts, and most embarrassing memories. The multitude of cracks in its foundation threatened to give with every little thing you deemed a screw-up, and in that moment, the dam broke.

A half-complete exam sat before you. Your left leg nervously bounced beneath your desk as a pencil twirled between the nimble fingers of your dominant hand. The eraser of your pencil caught on the surface of your desk mid-twirl, causing the utensil to fling from your grasp. It arched through the air and thumped the boy seated in front of you, Ojiro, right between his shoulder blades. No amount of rambled apologies from you, nor sincere ’it’s okay!’s from the kind-hearted blond could stop that moment from searing itself into your memory. Just another reason you should never leave your room again.

Sinking into an unmade bed, you pulled your knees up to your chest. Feeble arms hugged your legs tightly as you desperately tried to shake the unpleasant thoughts from your own brain. “No,” you pleaded with yourself, “no, (Y/n), you’re not doing this again.” Fingernails dug into soft flesh beneath your school uniform’s knee-high socks, a momentary distraction from the sheer panic swelling inside your chest. Forehead pressed against bent knees, you hoped that if you made yourself small enough, maybe you could disappear entirely.

Accidentally interrupting someone during a conversation, tripping over your own feet while walking down the hall, getting anxious speaking to your redheaded crush and forgetting what you wanted to say altogether.

You couldn’t help but gasp for air, the angry burning of your lungs only worsening with every shallow breath as hot tears trailed down the sides of your face. There was no stopping the sobs that pushed past your lips, nor the self loathing thoughts that racked your brain. You pressed your back firmly against the cool drywall beside your bed with the vain hope that the sudden chill may keep you grounded.

Nearly spitting out your tea as Kaminari cracked a joke during lunch, not realizing you took someone else’s seat in the common room, bumping into an elderly woman on the train, dropping a handful of textbooks in front of your entire class.

A knock on the door momentarily pulled you from what seemed to be an inescapable frenzy of thoughts. You stumbled to your feet, stole a glance in the mirror beside your bed. Reluctant to allow someone else to see your puffy, red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, you forced yourself to speak up, “uh- uhm,” your voice wavered with every word, but you cleared your throat and continued on, “I-I’m sorry, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Aw,” a familiar voice pouted from the other side, muffled by the wall between you, “well, think ya could let me in anyway?” It was Kirishima, the guy you’d been head-over-heels for since the beginning of your freshman year.

You refused to let him see you so disheveled, couldn’t bear the thought of willingly adding another embarrassing moment to your catalogue of painful memories.

“I’m sorry, I- well,” you wanted to lie, to make up an excuse as to why you couldn’t answer the door, but nothing came to mind. “I just can’t talk right now. Do you need something?”

“Yep! It’s really urgent, can’t wait another second!” He eagerly pleaded, and you just couldn’t find the will to say no.

Hastily drying your wet face with creased sleeves and fixing your hair to the best of your ability, you made your way to the door and cautiously inched it open.

The crimson haired boy stood before you with a box of your favorite candy in his hands and a warm smile on his face. His brows were knit together in concern, tender eyes wholly trained on you. He glanced both ways down the vacant hallway to ensure that no one was within earshot before speaking in a hushed tone, “you didn’t seem like yourself in class today. Like, you were quieter than usual, and then Bakugou was a bit of an ass earlier...“ He nodded to the cardboard container in his hands, “I’ve seen you eat this before and it always seems to put a smile on your face, so I thought maybe it could do the same today too.” His grin faltered for a moment, gaze dropping to the floor as if embarrassed by his own words. “It’s stupid, I know, but I had to do somethin’!”

Despite your best efforts, the happy facade you’d forced on for Kirishima fell, and your eyes welled with tears once again. Your bottom lip trembled as you tried to swallow the lump crawling up your throat. His gaze shifted from the floor, back up to meet yours, and he nearly dropped the container in his hands at the sight of you so close to crying.

Without a second thought, he threw his arms around your shoulders in a tight hug, “What’s wrong, (Y/n)?” His voice filled with worry, further breaking your heart, “Did I get the wrong kind of candy?”

“N-no,” you whimpered into his shoulder, unable to finish before the words caught in your mouth and tears wet the thin cotton of his shirt . Your arms wrapped around his waist, unconsciously reciprocating his hug. His warmth reminded you of just how long it had been since you’d let someone be so close. Your knees buckled under the weight of your own grief, and before you knew it, Kirishima was scooping you up into his strong arms. He carried you to the comfort of your bed, kicking the door closed as he passed.

“I knew you weren’t okay,” he muttered into your ear, tone much softer than you were used to from the boisterous man. He carefully set you down on your plush mattress, grabbed the nearest blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, then knelt on the floor before you.

“I’m f-fine,” you forced out, trying to steady your voice but failing horribly, “You can go if you wa-want. I don't want to-”

Kirishima silenced you with a tender palm rested atop your own. “I’m not leaving you, (Y/n). Whatever’s going on, I care about you too much to make you deal with it alone.”

Up until then, you had made it a point to keep your anxiety hidden from your peers. You worried that they would treat you differently if they knew, that they wouldn’t quite understand. But, something about Kirishima told you that he was different, that nothing would change if you opened up to him. Regardless of your fears, the look in his eyes and tender cadence of his voice made you feel safe, like it was okay to be vulnerable.

“I,” your eyes flicked from your lap to meet his worried gaze, “I can’t help but remember everything I’ve done wrong over the years and just hate myself. I hate every mistake, every failure, every moment I did something dumb and didn’t know how to fix it.” Your stomach clenched as yet another sob forced its way past your lips. “I have so many regrets, and I constantly feel like an awful person because of them.”

A calloused thumb brushed along your upper cheek, wiping away the tracks of fallen tears. He nodded along as you vented, as if he understood exactly where you were coming from. Then, when you went silent, he waited for a few beats to ensure you were entirely finished speaking before responding. “I’m sure it doesn’t seem like it, but I used to be someone I’m not proud of either, and, honestly? Sometimes I still don’t like the person I see in the mirror.” He paused for a moment, lips pulled in a thin, contemplative line before continuing, “can you keep a secret?”

You nodded, surprised and mildly confused by his words. Could someone as confident and lovable as Kirishima really struggle with the same anxieties that you did?

He chuckled at the quizzical look you gave him, took a deep breath to steady his own nerves. “So, I actually didn’t look like this back in middle school -- hold up, I think I actually have a picture.” Five fingers flexed around your own, holding you close as his free hand fished into his pants pocket and pulled out a red-cased phone. Within a few seconds, ruby eyes were locked with your own once again, a shy smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Promise not to laugh?”

The redhead’s grin was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile with him. Your worries hadn’t been entirely forgotten, but with every word spoken between you, every passing second with his fingers entwined with your own, a subtle calm began to wash over you. “I’ll try not to,” you responded. That seemed good enough for him, and with only a short moment of hesitation, Kirishima turned the phone’s screen toward you to reveal a photo of himself from a few years before.

Long, black hair framed a round face, slender shoulders slumped and eyes downcast as he stood alone in the courtyard of what you assumed to be his old middle school. Your head cocked to the side, brows furrowed in disbelief as you looked from the photo to the person in front of you. For a moment, you thought he must have been kidding. The muscular, seemingly self-assured man that knelt before you didn’t resemble the boy on his phone in the slightest. “You’re serious? That was you?”

He nodded, clearly amused by your reaction. You wanted to ask what changed, how he pulled such a total one-eighty, but couldn’t find a way to without sounding rude.

He seemed to read your mind, though, and answered your question without hesitation. “I realized that I didn’t like the person I was, and vowed to be better.” He powered off the device in his hand and tossed it aside, attention entirely back to you, thumb unconsciously caressing the back of your hand as he continued. “I’m not telling you this because I think you need to change. Frankly,” his eyes darted to the floor, voice lowering nearly to a whisper, “I, uh, I really like the person you are now.” He cleared his throat, a pink tinge dusting his cheeks as his gaze flicked back up to meet yours. “I’m telling you this because, like I said before, I’m like you in a way. I can’t help but cringe when I remember the way I used to be, and I still worry sometimes that I haven’t actually changed that much.”

“But you have. I mean, you’re a completely different person now.”

“Exactly. Here’s what I’ve learned: if you cringe at something you did in the past, that’s probably because you’ve matured enough to know you were being dumb back then. Being able to look at your past self and recognize your mistakes means you aren’t that person anymore.” His other hand moved to rest atop your knee, as if he wanted to hold you closer but found himself hesitant.

You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at his words, yet still one question continued to gnaw at the back of your mind. “But, what if I’m beating myself up something I did recently… like,” your voice lowered in embarrassment, “when I a-accidentally threw that pencil at Ojiro, for example…”

“I promise, you’re the only one who even remembers that.” Kirishima chuckled softly, “you’re sweet for worrying about those little things, but no one worth knowing is gonna judge you off small mistakes. I know how great you are, and so does everyone else in our class. You light up every room you walk into, I swear. It’s like you’ve got a second quirk or somethin’.” You giggled, and his smile only grew wider. “I mean it! How could anyone not fall in love with that laugh?” The boy’s face turned bright red, eyes widening in realization at what he had said, grip tightening around your own. “Shit, I mean- well-” he cut himself off, sharp teeth nervously nibbling on his bottom lip.

His words resonated with you, filled the anxious pit in your stomach with warm butterflies and heated your cheeks with a rosey blush. Still, you convinced yourself he was only embarrassed because his words had come out in a different way than he had meant them. There was no way he actually had feelings for you, you thought. He was clearly just being nice. “I-It’s okay, I know you don’t like me like that. You’re way out of my league, anyway.” You forced a nervous laugh, attempting to comfort him through words that burned as they passed your lips.

You thought he’d relax at what you had said, agree with your comment, and thank you for understanding. Instead, he rose to his feet, a look of bewilderment in his eyes as he pulled you up to stand with him. “Do you really think that?” He questioned, expression twisted in disbelief, hurt by your self-deprecating words. His hands gripped yours tightly as you stood only inches from one another. Heat radiated off of his tan skin, shielding you from the chilly air of your room and prickling your arms with goosebumps.

“Sorry to break it to ya, but you couldn’t be more wrong.” Kirishima lightly tugged you closer, closed the distance between your bodies without a second thought. You allowed your chest to press against his, listening carefully as he continued, “I was afraid of making you uncomfortable or scaring you off, so I didn’t say anything before. But, if that’s really what you think, I’ve gotta set you straight. Truth is, I’m absolutely crazy for you, (Y/n). I mean, you’re cute, and sweet, and witty -- It’s impossible to take my eyes off of you whenever we’re in a room together, and just hearing your voice makes me feel warm all over.”

Calloused fingers released one of your hands, traveled up to caress a now-dry cheek. He cracked another sharp-toothed grin at the realization that you were no longer crying. “Can you do me a favor and tell me next time you start to feel all anxious and stuff again? Regardless of if you like me back, I just want to be there for you, whatever you need. It’s not very manly to fall for a girl, then leave her hangin’ when she needs ya the most.”

An eager nod in agreement was all you could manage for a long moment as you stood entirely awestruck by his confession. All you wanted was to find your voice, to tell him how much his efforts meant to you, but the words refused to come.

So, you did the next best thing.

The box of candies he had brought as a pick-me-up laid forgotten on your bed as tentative fingers gripped Kirishima’s broad shoulders and you rose onto your tiptoes. Without allowing yourself time for hesitation, you pressed pursed lips to a flushed-pink cheek. It wasn’t a large gesture, but in that moment it felt perfect.

You’d never seen Ejirou smile as wide as he did in that moment, strong hands firmly gripping your waist as you pulled away -- as if to make sure that you wouldn’t stray too far from his grasp. “That settles it then! Tomorrow I’m asking you out properly -- with flowers, and chocolates, and way more than just one box of your favorite sweets… but you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That we’ll take care of one another. I’ll never judge you, hurt you, or belittle whatever you’re struggling with, as long as you promise the same to me, okay? From now on ‘til the end of time, I’ve got your back unconditionally, and you’ve got mine. Promise?”

“Promise.”

#kirishima ejirou #no beta we die like men #kirishima #kirishima bnha #kirishima fluff #kirishima x reader #ejirou kirishima x reader #hurt/comfort #anxiety help #kiri writes #trigger warning: anxiety #fluff #bnha fluff #kiri gives good advice from my therapist #anyway #pls forgive me if this isnt that good #its been months since ive written a full fic #lub u be good to urself #its 4 am forgive me for typos and goodnight

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