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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Masquerade at midnight

Gender neutral reader

[Masterlist]

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Word count: 3.2k

Notes: The Michael here is Michael Caine. I'm going to do my best to not make the Michaels and Toms in this story confusing.

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Chapter One - Arrival

You had fallen asleep when the plane came into landing. You had barely slept the night before, your mind filled with every possible outcome you could come up with. Why would you ever accept an invite to the middle of nowhere and hadn't been signed by anyone? This was surely an invitation to your death! What else could it possibly be.

You are woken up by a flight attendant, who you thank with a smile, and grab your onboard luggage. You make your way off the plane, through the airport, and then find yourself standing by the taxi lot. You pull out the invitation and find the next free cab. The driver asks where you want to go, you show them the invite.

The driver looks at you. You're a little unsettled, but neither of you say anything. Before anyone can say anything, a voice calls from your left. You turn to find an older gentleman looking at you. He has white hair, glasses, and is dressed formerly. Almost of that of a butler, you would say.

"Yes?"

The man approaches you and smile ever so slightly. He is formal in the way he moves.

"I am here to collect you," he states.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. If I may?" He looks at your luggage. Only able to connect this to the invite, you give him permission. The man loads your things into a sleek black car. You stare at the vehicle. It looked expensive.

The man opens the back door.

"If you would."

It was beginning to become quite daunting what was happening. You were in a country you could only have dreamt of visiting, under circumstances you had no idea about, invited by someone you didn't even know the name of.

Yeah, this was defiantly a mistake.

You climb into the car and wait as the man climbs into the driving seat. As he prepares to drive off, he glances at you through the mirror.

"Please don't be alarmed. My name is Michael Caine. You may call me Michael. I am the butler at the Mikkelsen estate. I was requested to fetch you myself. Please, make yourself comfortable, we have a bit of a drive ahead of us."

You furrow your brow. You had so many questions, and you knew he knew it too. He smiles as he glances at you again in the mirror.

"You can ask me."

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"Mikkelsen manor. The estate in which my employer lives."

"Who is Mikkelsen?"

"Mads Mikkelsen. The master," he replies. That doesn't really answer your question, but you'll take it. You would find out for yourself once you got there anyway, or so you suspected.

"Why am I here?"

"You're the esteemed guest of my master."

"I don't know your master," you confess.

"Not yet you don't, but he knows you."

You glare at the back of his head. "Clearly," you mutter.

"How did you know I was coming today? I never sent word of my arrival, and I'm a day early. The invitation says tomorrow," you say, keeping a close eye on the view outside of the window. You wanted to know exactly where he was taking you.

"My master did some digging as to find out when you would arrive. He put in a request to know what flight you would be on."

"Can he do that? That's a bit... invasive, isn't it?" You ask, not sure how to feel about that.

"My master can do as he wishes. The airport staff were ever so helpful," Michael tells you. A shiver runs down your spine and you find yourself a little concerned that this man had put in so much effort to discover when you would arrive.

"What would he have done if I hadn't shown up? I never actually said I was coming."

"He knew you would," Michael replied.

"How?"

"My master knows these things. Should you have not shown at all, he would have been very disappointed, but he had faith you be here. Here you are," he glances at you again.

"Here I am," you whisper, turning your gaze back to the window.

Something was weird here. Something unnatural. You would like to think you're overthinking the whole thing. Everything was strange about this, but you would carry onward. You would find out what this was and make a decision from there.

The drive went quiet from there, but you were aware he was checking on you in the mirror. Everything about this felt so wrong, but your choices were limited. You could get out now and walk all the way back, your stuff be damned! But no. You would not.

You feel yourself begin to dose off, but the car taking a turn had you looking up. Your jaw was on the ground. The estate was huge. It stood far out at the end of the long drive. There was so much land surrounding the mansion. A garden you couldn't believe actually existed. Hedges so green it felt unreal. Flowers in full bloom bringing colour to the grounds. The grass was lush and beautiful. You're sure you can see a lake just behind the house. The building stood three stories tall, though you assume there's a basement too. There was a west and east wing. Steps led up to the entrance of the house. It looked like something out of a fairy-tale. You couldn't tear your eyes away. Not until the car stopped.

Michael got out and opened the door. You got out and looked back up at the building.

"This is.... amazing."

Michael smiles as he admires the house with you. He looks at it fondly and proudly.

"Yes. The master is quite fond of his home. He makes sure it gets the best care."

While he fetches your luggage, you look around at the gardens surrounding you. If you stay here, you need to make sure you take a walk through them before you go. There is so much to explore, you're certain of it.

Someone catches your attention. You tilt your head curiously to the side at seeing this other person. They weren't paying you much mind, busy working on the garden. You can only conclude they're a gardener. Michael brings your attention back to him.

"This way, if you would."

You follow Michael around the car and up the steps. He insists on carrying your things for you, so you don't argue with him over it. You follow him up and over to the main entrance. He pushes the door open and leads you inside, you shut the door behind you. If your breath was taken away by the grounds, you're practically clinging to life just in the main foyer.

There were two sets of stairs, one on either side, that curved to match the shape of the foyer. They met at the top where a banister blocked off the top, stopping people from falling should they walk along there. A chandelier, looking more expensive than anything you had ever seen, including the car outside, hung above your head. Right ahead of you were two large double doors, currently closed, and doors on either side of the room by the stairs. They all clearly lead further into the house. Everything seemed to be made of fine dark wood. The floor and stairs were a lighter shade than the bannisters and the walls. The doors appeared to have gold handles.

Who ever owns this place was clearly made of money.

"Shall I show you to your room, or would you like something to eat first?" Michael asks.

You look at him.

"Oh, um. I could eat. Am I going to meet the man who invited me here?" You ask, following Michael through the doors ahead of you. He leaves your luggage by the stairs promising they will be taken to your room shortly.

"All in good time. He has been rather busy lately."

You ask no more questions and follow Michael down a set of stairs that were hidden behind a door. This clearly led down into the basement. You can hear voices as you near the bottom, and something smells wonderful. Michael takes you down a hall and you're met with a kitchen.

"Take a seat, I'll have something made up for you now. I would offer you the dining room to eat in, but it's not quite ready yet. We are preparing for the dinner tomorrow," Michael explains.

"I'm fine down here."

He smiles and had the cook make up something quick for you. You look around you while he does so. There are many people down here, coming and going. Everyone seems very busy.

"Can I ask, what is this dinner? Why have I been invited? I don't know anyone by the name of Mikkelsen, and I don't know anyone in Paris."

Michael pours you some tea.

"All will be explained tomorrow. I promise."

You hoped that was true. So far you're barely getting any answers as is. You wouldn't bother him any more. If he said as much, you would believe him in the mean time. All good things come in time.

The cook sets down a dish in front of you and you smile, thanking them, before tucking in. Michael sets a cup of tea down too, and you thank him with another smile. Both Caine and the cook stay near by as you eat and drink, keeping you company in this large kitchen. As you eat, you listen to the hustle and bustle going on around you.

There was something comforting about this atmosphere. Homely. You felt welcome here.

When you were done, the dish was taken from you and Michael proceeded to take you back upstairs, up to your room now. You followed him, looking around the house as you went. This whole place was magnificent and you wanted to soak in all the details. Following Michael up the eastern staircase, him carrying your things again, though this time you insisted on carrying something, he led you down a long hallway. Staff were located here and there, but there wasn't much going on up here noise wise. He stops in front of a burgundy door, opening it and letting you enter first.

You walk inside and stop.

A queen size bed rests in the back of the room to your right as you walk in. A dresser is located on the right side, windows on the left wall. A tall wardrobe rests to your left opposite the bed. It's empty at the moment, waiting to be filled with your own belongings, not that you brought much that needed hanging up. The bed was freshly made up, a rug complemented the bedsheets and curtains. A desk sat to right of the door, and a lone armchair rested by the window, perfect for looking out. You could see one half of the gardens from here.

Once again this felt homely and warm. It made you want to stay here.

"En-suite right through there," Michael gestured to a lone closed door by the wardrobe.

You enter properly and look around.

"Is it to your liking?"

"Very much so! Thank you."

"The master will be glad to hear that," Michael smiles.

"When will I get to meet him?"

"Tomorrow I expect. As I said. He's been very busy, and you did arrive a day early."

Michael leaves shortly after those words, closing the door behind him as he goes. You turn back to your room and can't help yourself. With a run up, you jump onto the bed, finding it very much to your liking. So far, you think you will enjoy your stay here. Yes, very much so.

If only you had more of an idea on who your host was. Plucking your phone from your pocket, you go search up the name 'Mikkelsen' realising you probably should have done this back at home. No matter.

Well, actually, all the matter.

You sit up and glare at your device.

No signal.

Fancy ass house, but no phone signal and no internet. You drop the phone on the bed and lay back down. So much for that. Your phone was useless here.

You stare at the ceiling.

It felt too early to sleep, daylight still shining in through the window, but after eating and that flight, you feel like getting some sleep. You decide an hour wouldn't be too bad. You close your eyes and get settled. Yeah, just an hour.

Then you will go and explore the house.

Only, when you woke up, it was dark outside, and you could hear voices outside of your door.

It was dark now, you noticed. You had slept longer than an hour. Though that was the last thing on your mind right now. Getting up off of the bed, you make your way over to the door and listen. The voices were male. They seemed to be talking louder than they wanted, considering you could make out when they were trying to be quiet.

You press your ear to the door, being careful not to make any noise.

"Are you certain they arrived?" The first voice asked.

"Quite sure. I can smell them," another replies, sounding rather smug and glad. You furrow your brow wondering what they were referring to. Did this have something to do with the dinner? Were they guests too? Perhaps you should introduce yourself.

"Also I saw the car arrive, so I know. As does he."

"Wouldn't Michael have told him? After all, did he not fetch them himself?"

"Eager to see them, are we?"

"Perhaps. That a problem?"

"Not yet, but the answer is no. You have to wait like the rest. Why don't you go back to your room. We can see them tomorrow," you hear this man chuckle.

"Not even a peek?"

"No. Keep your voice down. Someone could hear us."

"Like who? No one else is here."

It falls silent for a moment and you get a weird feeling someone is looking at the door. It almost feels like they could see you and you step back from the door. Only now do you realise how much your heart is racing. You place a hand over it, wishing it to calm down. They couldn't possibly know you were listening, could they? You missed most of the conversation anyway, not like you picked up anything note worthy.

The feeling that they have left settles. You didn't hear them go, but somehow you knew they weren't there any more. You waited a few more moments before you returned to the door and opened it a crack. You peek out and confirm that no one is in the hall any more. You sigh and open the door wide, stepping out into the hall.

Just as you close the door, you turn and jump. The butler, Michael stands there with a friendly smile.

"Did you have a good rest?" He asks.

"Uh, yes. Thank you. I must have been more tired than I thought. I didn't mean to sleep so long. What time is it?" You don't recall seeing a clock in your room, and you had already deemed your phone useless, therefore not thinking of checking it for the time.

"It's not long past two."

"Two? Two AM?"

"Yes."

You stand there, feeling a little dazed. You had slept way longer than you had anticipated. If it was so late now, how come you had heard others about just moments ago. Had they just arrived, perhaps?

"I hope I didn't keep your master waiting at dinner."

"He wasn't present. Very few were," Michael tells you.

"Very few?"

"Yes. Those who reside here. There were only two at dinner. Not that many reside here," he tells you. "Would you like something to eat? You have been asleep a few hours."

"No. I think I'll just go back to bed. Properly this time. I'll be up for breakfast in the morning."

Michael smiles.

"I shall come check on you before hand then. Sleep well."

You bid him goodnight and go back to bed. Though you do wonder why he was there. You hadn't seen him in the hall when you stepped out. Why was he still awake? Why had anyone been awake, other than you who had lost track of time?

You were too tired to keep asking questions.

When you woke up next, it was morning. You could tell by the light coming in through the window, of which you had forgotten to close the curtains. The sounds of birds chirping distantly in the garden made you smile. You felt well rested and all that conversation in the hall was long forgotten now.

Just as you got out of bed, a knock sounded on your door.

"Hello?" You call out, wondering who that was.

"Just me."

Michael.

"Come in."

Michael enters the room and smiles at you. You smile back and make the bed neat again.

"I came to see if you had woken yet. Breakfast will be served in an hour. My master would very much like to meet you before tonight."

Something clicks within you and seem to perk up. Michael smiles, but you think nothing of it. You hadn't wanted to be too obvious in your interest to meet him. Though it was hard to pretend you weren't eager to finally meet your host.

"Is he meeting me at breakfast?"

"He intends to. He has requested you start without him. He is currently having a meeting in his office."

You take what you can get and nod. Michael lets you get changed and then takes you down to the dining hall. As you walk, you see the staff going about their work here and there. You take a seat and Michael leaves you to go see to your breakfast.

The dining room is just as grand as the rest of the house. Half pillars melded into the walls line the room an even space apart from each other. Huge windows stand at one end, letting in the wonderful day light and making the room feel cosy. The drapes were hung back to let all the light in. A chandelier hangs above the table. A fireplace stands on the wall opposite where you're sat. Pictures hang on the walls, all paintings.

The table is pretty bare, part from some candelabras set out evenly across the runner placed on the table. Chairs are tucked along the length of the table, and there was one at each end too. There was enough space to fit maybe a dozen or so people here. It made you wonder how often this table was ever full.

You wait patiently. You don't have to wait long. Michael returns with a tray in hand. He sets your breakfast down and takes his leave. You feel a little awkward sitting at this large table on your own eating, but the master of the house did pass on a message to say you shouldn't wait on him. You take a bite. Everything is perfectly cooked. It melts in your mouth and is full of flavour. If you didn't know any better, you would say they were trying to impress you.

Before you could get too cosy, a voice speaks from behind you, and you know without looking it's the man who invited you here. It had to be.

"I'm glad to see you have made yourself at home."

@lieutenantn @ntlmundy @alex-the-rainbow @that-one-fandom-kid @mischief-siriusly-managed @madhatter2727 @gabrielapoe-16 @baronesszemo-blackwood @valquiria3000 @wannabevampire @ten-tenya-iida @crackedout @rothko-mirror @niceshadeofblue @my-fic-corner @aluehuskywolf @bdffkierenwalker @nezla @bb-skyrunner @dezzylou24 @meganlpie @casi-eternal

#masquerade at midnight

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katwritessometimes · 4 years

Text

In The Dark

Shadow Monster Aizawa x Reader

A collab piece for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten Citrus Dome Server

Read the other entries HERE

Warnings: somnophilia, dub-con, non-con, tetraphilia eeee tentaicles kind of? Monster fucking, manipulation, tiny little sprinkling of yandere if you squint.

5kish words

@bobawithpomegranate & @miscellaneous-bnha thanks for keeping me from jumping off a bridge. This was surprisingly very challenging to write so i hope you guys enjoy.

The sight of your grandmother’s old home brought comfort into your heart in a way nothing else ever could. It had taken much longer than you would have liked to get here, after almost a year of fighting with the family. Legal battles over property and inheritance, you'd finally been handed the keys to the beautiful old Victorian home your grandmother had loved so much. The outside was weathered but held strong, you were sure the inside would be worse after being empty and neglected for so long. With a sigh, you picked up the cleaning supplies you'd brought with you and made your way inside the house.

You don't notice it at first,

He’d noticed you the second you walked onto the porch.

Singing softly to yourself, you make your way through the old house, flipping lights on to make sure the electricity works. Opening up windows and doors to air the dusty old place out. Except once you set your mind to cleaning it becomes blatantly obvious. The house isn't dusty, the house is fairly clean, no dust having settled anywhere, no cobwebs hanging in abandoned corners. You think for a second maybe the lawyer hired someone to come clean before handing over the keys, but you don't recall her mentioning anything like that.

With a shrug determined to do some light cleaning anyway, you spend the day unpacking some of the stuff you brought and lightly cleaning as you went. The first time you notice it it’s dark out, dim lights illuminating the house. Christ, why did grandma have such shitty lightbulbs in, you’d think an older woman would want brighter lights as her vision faded. The thought slips from you when you hear something crash onto the floor behind you. You turn quickly, something flinting in the corner of your eye as you turn, heart rate spiking, and you freeze. You were sure you saw something going up the stairs.

Taking a breath in an attempt to calm your breathing, you pick up the painting that had somehow been knocked off its mount. A creaking coming from the second floor has your head snap in that direction. It’s an old house, you chant in your head trying to not let yourself get worked up. You don’t realize you're making your way up the stairs until the old wood creaks loudly under your weight. Your attention is drawn to your grandmother’s room, the only place you haven't been in just yet. You dig around your pocket for the master key that gave you access into the main bedroom, worried that maybe this is where all the dust and cobwebs had scampered off too. You chuckle to yourself at that and it settles your nerves a little, though you can't pinpoint why you're suddenly nervous.

Much to your surprise, your grandmother’s old bedroom was just as clean as the rest of the house had been, even though no one should have been able to access it. You almost miss the small box sitting on her bed if not for something skittering in the corner of your eyes turning your attention to it. You do miss the shadow that slinks out behind you pausing at the doorway to watch you for a second. You reach out for the ornate box, a letter sitting on top of it with your name written neatly on the front. But before your fingers can make contact with it, the door behind you slams loudly. You jump at the sound, hands coming up to clutch at your chest, curses spilling from your lips as you turn to see the door is closed now.

“Fucking old house” You yell aloud unable to control your volume after having been spooked. Your yelling makes you miss the deep chuckle that rings out in the air.

Cute

You pout upset that you’d let yourself be so easily spooked like that. Running a hand through your hair you turn your attention back to the small box and letter picking up both items before heading out of the bedroom. You look back one last time, unsure if you felt ready to disturb your grandmother’s space just yet. Opting to leave it as it was, if only for a little while longer.

You probably should have read the letter too, things would have made sense much quicker if you had.

Two weeks of dusting and cleaning out old boxes before you decided it was time to begin moving your things into the house. It had been slightly odd, something for sure was off about the house but you tried not to think about it too much. Handling most of the weird mishaps in the house with a shrug and no real inclination to question it. The last thing that came with you into the new house was your two cats. A sleek black tom who loves you and only you, and a younger larger orange tom who’s all around very friendly. You hate to say you notice a shift in the house when the cats finally settle. Both the boys took to the house as if they’d always been there, something you were struggling with. It was their presence that made it so that you could no longer pretend like you didn’t see the shadows moving.

Both cats who’d always preferred lazing in sun rays suddenly preferred the dark corners of the living room over the sunny rays leaking in through the large bay window in the house. Demanding meow’s typically indicative of wanting attention, were used in dark corners of the house. Directed at something you couldn’t see. You’d be able to ignore the behavior, except every time you went looking for them when they called.

You’d find them happily purring, rubbing up against something that wasn't there in the darkness, as if already being given the attention they were asking for. It was creepy, weird, should have creeped you out. But you’d been raised to have a healthy fear and respect towards things you couldn't understand but were not outright malicious. So you tried not to let it bother you too much, don't question the way shadows seem to move. Or when the cats' purr and flop on their backs for tummy scratches in the dark corners of the house.

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The dreams had begun the first night at the house, an all-encompassing warmth that lazily spreads throughout your whole body. Contrasted by cold hands caressing your skin, a deep rich voice whispering dirty things in your ear and working you up to a feverish pitch.

“Pretty little mouse wandering into my house” the voice coos in your ear.

And then you’re awake, panting heavily, a groan spilling past your lips as you toss and turn a little in your bed.

“Fuck.” you whimper out, bringing your arm up over your face as you try and catch your breath.

You can’t remember exactly what you dreamt about, only the deep voice murmuring nothings in your ear and cold fingers playing with your folds. You let out an exasperated sigh squirming in bed frustration seeping into your bones. When was the last time you had a dream like that, you couldn't remember? When was the last time you’d been worked up like this, and from a dream no less? You let out a frustrated huff turning and burying your face in the pillow. You could have sworn you heard a deep chuckle ring out.

They get more detailed, more vivid the longer you're at the house you're almost used to waking up panting and sweaty. The feeling of cool silky tendrils exploring your body lingering for a bit before slinking off as you become more alert. Groggily whining at being awake after dreaming such filthy things. The feeling of your wetness soaking through your panties frustrating you. Always waking up right before the best part of the dream, so you throw the blankets off of yourself in a huff. Spreading your legs wide you trail your fingers over the lingering sensation of someone else’s touch.

It drives him wild.

Aizawa was on the edge of insanity when you showed up at the old house. A year of solitude will do that to you, he'd been beyond madness when the old lady bought the house all those years ago. Though she's brought him back with a soft kindness only a grandmother could offer.

You,

You brought a clarity to his mind in a different way. Every little curse, every time you scold the house when something disappears. Every time you touched yourself to thoughts of him, to the lingering feeling of his tendrils and hands on you. Aizawa was able to pull himself little by little out of the pit insanity and loneliness had pulled him into. You were so easy too, subconsciously letting the shadow creature infect every ounce of your being. He'd managed to seep into your dreams easily enough, a lonely pent up girl. He liked how you squirmed in your sleep.

Desperate little whimpers spilling from your lips as his cool fingers explore your body. It was addicting, the way your warmth spread through him with every touch, every explorative lick of your body lighting a fire deep in Aizawa's belly.

“Pretty little thing aren't you.” Aizawa coos in your ear, and you always react so beautifully to his voice. Your sleeping body responding with a soft whimper, he lets his tendrils explore every inch of you. Slipping underneath the silk PJ top and skimpy little shorts you always wore to bed. You were practically offering yourself up to him each and every night. How could he ever resist when your body reacted like this to his every touch. He’d started slowly at first, only manifesting his tendrils to creep along your body as you slept.

Once you’d been there for a few months he didn’t even have to worry about you waking up. Having invaded your dreams enough to be able to keep you in a nice deep sleep while he had his way with you. Settling himself between your legs fully manifested, never happier to have this solid form as when he's trailing large callus palms up to your soft legs. It’s so easy, really he can’t help himself, your wetness quickly soaking through your panties as cold fingers rub at your clit. Heady little moans spilling from your sleeping frame and it makes him giddy, trailing a large hand up and under your shirt. Pressing against the soft skin of your stomach and trailing up to gently squeeze at your breasts. Aizawa loves the way your body reacts to him, whimpering and arching against his touch. He shifts then, leaning over your sleeping body, caging your head between his hands, leaning down to nuzzle his nose into your hair.

Can’t help himself as he trails open mouth kisses down your neck, tangling his fingers through your hair, you lean into his touch. A soft whimper of please slips through your lips and Aizawa can barely contain himself as his hips buck against your core.

“Begging for me in your sleep, sweet girl, already knows who she belongs to. Don’t you.”

You mewl, a soft pretty sound that Aizawa plays in his head over and over for days. Humping into your soaked panty-clad pussy desperately. His tendrils emerging from his back of their own accord, stroking and rubbing up against you as he mindlessly pleasures himself against your unconscious frame. Your little pants and moans edging him on until he's groaning against your neck, spilling himself onto your cute little silk PJ shorts. Aizawa lets himself bask in the feeling of your warmth against him littering your face in kisses.

“My good girl.”

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You conclude something is living in the house one night during an intense thunderstorm. Living in a house with some creature that may or may not try to eat you? Cool fine, no worries. But a thunderstorm? The loud unpredictable booms that tear through the air make you jump every single time without fail.

You flinch, once again roused by a loud clap of thunder and a harsh flash of lightning. An involuntary whimper slipping past your lips as you curl up into a ball on the bed doing your best to block out the noise of the raging storm.

You can feel it when a cool blanket envelopes you, a shift in the air that muffles all of the intense noise. The feeling of something carding its fingers through your hair comes next, ever so lightly scratching at your scalp. “It’s just a storm” A deep voice that seems to come from all around whispers and a strange comfort washes over you as your body begins to relax. You're half asleep, it's easy to lean into the gentle caress when you're not quite awake. Easy to ignore the feeling of tendrils creeping across your legs and stomach. You can't help but feel slightly comforted by them in your half-asleep state.

An exceptionally loud clap of thunder jolts you into a more awake state and you shoot up in bed. The hazy fog that was keeping you calm dispelling and you whimper as the comfort leaves you. “Please don't leave” you whisper aloud unsure to who or why you even spoke. A deep voice coos at you as thunderclaps outside again and you tremble. A yelp slips past your lips and your hands reach out towards the deep voice as if on instinct. Something safe that will soothe you if only you can reach out and touch it.

A chuckle thick like honey floats into your ears and your hands meet something soft. You're groggy, half asleep, and confident you're just imagining things, but that doesn't take away from the comfort. It feels like a million different arms wrap around you, pulling you in towards something solid and the hazy fog returns your body relaxing as the tendrils tighten almost uncomfortably around you. Wrapping you up in a cocoon that feels safe and secure, the thunderstorm outside fading into the background and all you can concentrate on is the deep voice mumbling nothings in your ear.

It's in the days after the storm when you can still hear his deep voice in your ears and feel his warm touch lingering on your body. That you remember the letter and box your grandmother had left you. You feel a little stupid for not thinking of reading them earlier, having been caught up in the whirlwind of moving you'd put them off to the side and almost forgotten entirely about them

To my lovely granddaughter,

If you’re reading this then it means you've agreed to the stipulations I included for ownership of the house. This place is special, and if you take care of the house its caretaker will return the favor. Be patient with him, it takes him a little while to warm up but he won't hurt you. I promise I haven't gone crazy with old age. Allow yourself to be open to the things in life we can’t explain. I hope the house is as good to you as it was to me in my old age.

It doesn’t explain much, but coming from a family that believed in the supernatural made it so that your grandmother's cryptic words didn't freak you out as much as they should have. They made you feel better actually, soothed the part of you that was nervous you might be going crazy. The small box held a pendant, a small but brilliant ruby ordaining the center of it delicate but practical enough for daily wear. You can't help but slip it on and admire the pretty jewel.

Aizawa is more active after that, the haze in his mind settles when he sees you wearing his necklace. You notice it too, the shadows in the house somehow softening, almost playful. He likes to move your things around so he can hear you huff in frustration. Every curse every time you yell at him, the fog in his mind clears.

He gets bolder around the house, slowly but surely, starts moving things around more obviously. Enjoys making you jump by slithering his tendrils across your ankles while you're cooking. Or shutting off the lights while you shower just to hear your cute little yelp. He likes that you’re somehow not scared of his presence but still easily spooked overall.

“That foundation was $50 and if it's not back in my makeup bag when I come back I swear to god I'll keep all the lights on for a week.” You see the shadow swirl in the corner of the bathroom, and you know it's smiling at you. You roll your eyes but the next morning your foundation is sitting right on the bathroom sink.

You begin to catch glimpses of it, of him. As if your attention is helping him manifest fully after a long time of being nothing but a wisp of smoke. Most obvious when your eyes scan the house and you can almost swear a man is petting one of your cats. Only to double back and see your cat rolling over against a dark corner of the room. You almost stop feeling uneasy, almost.

It all comes to head on a night where sleep seems unreachable. You were frustrated, panting, skin warm, and sticky with sweat as your fingers skillfully circled your clit but no relief came. You let out a frustrated ‘fuck’ throwing your head back onto the pillow and tossing a hand over your face. You’d been pent up for a while now, the weird lewd dreams working you up but never getting you anywhere. You do your best to relax into the bed, accepting defeat with a groan and hoping sleep overtakes you quickly.

The feeling of something wisping against your ankles brings you back from the edge of sleep. Cool ever so soft touches trail up your legs, you shiver at the cold sensation against your still warm and sweaty skin. Your eyes flutter open but you're only met with black, body tensing a little as cold tendrils stroke your face.

“You’re ok little one.” The voice is deep against your ear, a cold forked tongue licking up the side of your cheek. “I’ve got you” The same soothing voice you’d heard during the thunderstorm. Except for this time, it's laced with something other than softness. “I’ve been watching you, little human. Spreading yourself open shamelessly, playing with that pretty pussy out in the open. Pretending like you didn’t know I was here to watch.” Aizawa coos.

You whimper at the words, mist curling around you as a dark chuckle fills the room. “Tease” he snarls in your ear and you can’t help yourself as your hips buck up at the sound. Something solid forms between your legs, the soft smooth thing wraps around your ankles assisting in spreading your legs out wide. The deep voice tsks against your ear, cold skin and stubble rubbing against your cheek “You could at least pretend like you're not enjoying this.”

Your face flushes as he teases you, the sensation of his foreign appendages exploring your body exciting you in a way you can't quite place. They’re not hands that much you can tell, you can distinguish his hands by the callus texture as he strokes a thumb over one of your nipples. Tweaking at it gently until it perks against his fingers.

“Aren’t you scared little mouse” you can feel his tongue lapping at your neck, sharp teeth pricking the skin there and you let out a whimper. Managing only to shake your head, arching your chest up into his touch as he plays with you. “Desperate little human, willing to take just about anything if it means being satisfied.” You choke out a protest but can’t help the soft moan that bubbles out of your mouth as Aizawa presses his thigh against your sex. He coos into your ear when you begin to hump him mindlessly.

“Such simple little creatures humans. Driven by desire, and willing to fuck just about anything aren't you little one?” You shake your head in protest, but the excitement pooling in your belly betrays you. Aizawa chuckles and pulls away from you a little, tendrils pooling from him and eagerly joining the fray. The limbs have a mind of their own, each appendage going about playing with you in different ways. One replaces his hands, squeezing and pinching at your breasts. Another brings your hands up and holds them above you keeping you still with minimal effort. A few others explore your body and Aizawa watches, as one of his appendages eagerly begins tugging aside your cute little PJ bottoms.

You whine out a “No” as the cold air hits your soaked entrance “That's not what your pretty little pussy is telling me.” Aizawa chuckles watching as the tendrils gather your juices up, gently circling your clit and parting your folds. “Look at you, soaked and ready for me aren't you.” His hand replaces the tendril and you feel cold fingers press into your heat. Your pussy clenches at the intrusion but you buck into him automatically. Already worked up from playing with yourself before, your body betrays you as your mind hazes and all you can think about is pleasure.

“P-Please” You choke out tugging against the restraints that only tighten when you struggle. Aizawa cocks an eyebrow up at you as he leans down, nuzzling at your inner thigh. Tongue lapping at the juices running down between your supple ass. He hums when you beg a smile tugging at his lips, his fog finally taking hold of you.

“What was that little mouse? Did you say something” He accentuates his words with another finger and you cry out as he finger fucks you. His tongue lazily licking at the edges of your pussy and then up to rub at your clit. You whine, hips bucking up and Aizawa sighs another tendril coming to wrap around your waist and pins you to the bed.

“Be still, or I'll leave you here.” You freeze at that babbling for him not to leave you and settle your hips. The appendage keeps you still squeezing you just a little too tight.

“That's a good girl.” Aizawa hums, turning his attention back to your core. “You look so pretty like this baby girl, spread out for me to do whatever I want. You just keep giving me those pretty little noises and I'll make you feel good, okay?” You moan in response and Aizawa clicks his tongue, the tendril circling your stomach squeezing until it hurts. “Let me hear you say it.” Aizawa snarls.

You gasp as pain seeps into your pleasure “Yes, please I'll be good.” The pressure against your sides loosens and you're able to breathe again panting softly as the pain begins to fade. Aizawa doesn't say anything, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them up for a taste. He hums satisfied and then he's moving your body. Positioning you onto your stomach, cold hands lifting your ass as he positions you just how he wants. His tendrils keep your arms together in front of you, stripping you of your PJs and keeping your legs spread just enough to give Aizawa the perfect view of your ass and dripping pussy. A smile, just a bit too wide spills over his lips as he settles himself between your legs. Aizawa is hard, painfully so but he takes his time sliding a hand over the curve of your asscheeks. Trailing down your back and up to the back of your neck, squeezing gently before trailing back again.

With a hum, he lazily strokes your dripping folds, cooing as you press your ass back into him wiggling a little desperate for him to fill you. A harsh smack rings out as his palm connects with your ass “Patience little mouse.” He snarls leaning down to the opposite cheek and biting down just a little too hard. You cry out, tears pooling in your eyes and you bury your head into the pillow. Mind overcome by a lustful haze, you just want him to fuck you already.

Your wish comes soon enough when you feel something thick prodding at your entrance. You gasp as the tip of Aizawa’s cock penetrates you, gasp turns into a desperate moan as he presses into you little by little. He lets out a deep guttural moan of his own as your warmth encircles him, greedily squeezing his cock. Your warmth is addicting and it doesn’t take too long for Aizawa to start bucking into you. He sets a brutal pace, the appendages holding your waist upkeep you still, nice and steady for him to fuck into while his hands explore your body.

You curse desperate little moans and obscenities leaving your lips as he fucks into you. His cock stretches you to your limits, almost painful as the creature fucks into you desperately. There's a shift, and you feel his hands come up to your middle, pulling you up against his chest as he fucks you. You feel his face nuzzle against your cheek as one of his hands coming to rest against your belly as he fucks you. You hands are suddenly free and you reach up, feeling your fingers pass through a cool mist, before finding something solid. Soft wisps of something, that wrap around your fingers, rolling over them in waves as you entwine them into what you assume is his hair.

“Such a good girl, you take me so well darling. Letting me fuck into your womb like this.” Aizawa presses his hand against your stomach pushing back on himself as he becomes desperate.

“Wanna see” The words are a desperate whine and you don't even really register when you say them. Aizawa sputters a little pace wavering at your words. His fingers brush against the delicate necklace you wear his necklace, and for a second his mind clears. But you whimper a desperate sound that breaks whatever sliver clarity he'd found and a darkness takes over his features again. His fingers abandon the necklace and trail up to your neck fingers wrapping around it then squeezing.

“What was that you little slut.” He snarls in your ear and you can't help yourself as you cry out

“Please, wanna see you, wanna watch your cock fuck into me.” Your face flushes as you admit this out loud. A growl coming from the man, thing currently fucking your brains out and you can't do anything but tug at his hair and lean into him further as he uses you. Aizawa stills a little, and you whine desperately doing your best to bounce on his cock as he stops moving. Suddenly you can see again and he's fucking into you, go to say something but you see it, a black wispy tentacle like thing appears in front of your face. Aizawa’s hand that was wrapped snugly around your neck comes up to squeeze your cheeks and the appendage gives you a cheeky little wave before filling your mouth.

“Wanna watch yourself get stuffed, fine, we'll use all of your cute little holes. How does that sound little one.” You whine around the tentacle and then he’s picking up his pace. Hand squeezing your throat so he can feel it at his tendril fucks into your neck, you take him so well. This is it the broken part of his brain hisses she's the one. Aizawa shakes his head, the feeling of your fingers in his hair grounding him for a moment and presses your body back into the mattress.

His movements turn erratic as he fucks into your overwhelmingly tight little pussy. Pretty little moans spilling from you as he fucks you and his tentacles play with your clit and throat. You take him so well, respond so beautifully to his touch, you weren't scared and accepted your place quickly. He brings his fingers up to the little nub between your legs, replacing his tendrils and pressing fast little circles against your already abused clit. It doesn't take long after that, your body presses into the mattress, a tentacle fucking your throat, and some creature’s cock kissing at your cervix the thought alone is too much. But you spill over when Aizawa’s teeth sink into your neck, your body spasming as your orgasm bubbles over.

Aizawa grunts from above you, your body going limp as he bites into you fucking you through your orgasm and chasing his own using your spent body for his own pleasure. He spills in you soon after, his mind just a little bit hazy. Ever so gently Aizawa pulls his tendril out of your mouth, drool, and his own slick trailing from your mouth as he does so. He coos as you whimper, pressing a hand over your ass to admire the way your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Humping into you a few more times before he pulls away completely. He debates for a moment letting himself disappear back into the shadows, but he hasn't been this real, this solid in so long.

Your whimpering slices through his thoughts and before he can stop you, you're on your back looking up at him. Instinct makes him retract all of his extra limbs, making himself look half normal minus the wisps of hair that always seem to move on their own. You blink up at him for a moment body sore but satisfied and you bring your arms up to him. Aizawa is unsure, body flickering into shadows but you speak up before he can fully dissipate.

“Stay with me” You manage to croak out, throat a little sore from the abuse you endured. You weren’t scared of him, if anything he was handsome and he'd fucked you till you were satisfied. You see the hint of hesitation in his eyes but you crinkle your nose and tilt your head cutely making grabby hands at him and he can’t help himself.

Aizawa lays down and you curl into him on instinct, his body now warm against yours. Your fingers find their way up to his hair, giggling as the locks lace themselves with your fingers. He brushes some of your hair back and you whine as he touches at your neck. Small bits of blood pooling where he’d sunk his teeth into you. His split tongue peaks out automatically, licking it up and gently lapping at the tender spot on your neck as you whimper.

“I get a little nuts when I'm on my own.” it's an apology, and you don’t think about why you feel safe in his arms, or why you don't question the creature laying with you, why you're not scared. Instead, you hum softly, nuzzling yourself into the crook of his neck as Aizawa lazily runs a steadily cooling hand down your back.

“It's ok, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.” You hear yourself say and he hums into your hair acknowledging your words. A twisted smile creeping its way onto his lips as his grip tightens around you. The part of Shouta that’s fallen too deep into insanity to come back fully snickers at your words.

As if you had a choice.

Tags:

@bbygirlpastel @thewheezingwyvern

#my hero academia #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #shoto aizawa #aizawa smut #Shouta Aizawa x reader smut #monster fucking #Aizawa x reader smut #kat writes

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corysmiles · 3 years

Note

Ask and ye shall receive

Little streamer au

The day Tommy does finally get sick, he hides it well for a little while. He knows Wilbur will get overly worried so he's the last person he wants finding out.

For a few days he succeeds, saying that his weird stream schedule is because of online classes or something.

One day though when Wilbur and Tommy had a vlog planned, Tommy doesn't show up. Worried, he calls Tommy but gets no answer. He calls his mom and gets a sentence he'll never forget.

"Sorry dear, he's not doing to well right now. Hasn't got out of bed all day. Didn't he tell you he was sick?"

And you can hear in her voice that she's distressed, concerned, and sounds very tired likely from taking care of Tommy all night.

He rushes to Tommy's home and begs them to let him see Tommy.

He's surprised when his mother and father ask for Wilbur to take Tommy home with him. When he asks why they tell him that they're worried about getting themselves sick and since it's a sickness for tinies, Wilbur can't catch it and is far more capable of taking care of Tommy.

-Zeetle

Care

Little streamer au

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Notes: ZEETLE YES!! I’m only changing a little bit bc in the au Tommy’s parents are humans who adopted him but he will still end up with Wilbur :]

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Wilbur held Tommy close to his chest the whole ride back to his apartment. Every minuscule shiver from the boy made his heart stop.

Tommy had never felt so small to him before.

Even in the beginning when he was so afraid of accidentally dropping or squishing the tiny his loud demeanour made him feel larger than life.

Carefully, Wilbur picked up his fingers from above the teen and stared at his sleeping form. Every exhale took too much effort for Wilbur’s comfort, and his whole body shook.

“Fuck Tommy,” he sighed.

As a loud voice boomed over the train’s speaker announcing the next stop he quickly covered the boy, hoping he wouldnt wake up. However, only seconds later he felt the tiny shift in his hands.

As carefully as he could Wilbur lifted the tiny to his face, “Sorry for waking you up. Howre you feeling?”

His eyes studied Tommy’s dazed look with barely hidden fear. The boy looked so tired even though according to his mother he’d already slept for over half the day.

“Feel like shit, what did you expect,” Tommy groaned as he squished his face against the bottom of Wilbur’s thumb. His skin felt cold and clammy in a way that made the human’s heart shrink.

He hadn’t even expected to take Tommy back with him.

About three days before, he’d caught the teen trying to hide that he was sick, so he’d gotten a train over to Tommy’s house as soon as he could. He’d brought some snacks and a new blanket for him, but he really just intended for that to be it.

He certainly wasn’t expecting Tommy’s mother to ask him to take him back to his own apartment.

“We have my sister coming here next week,” shed sighed, “Shes been planning to come for months now but it’s not safe for her with Tommy sick.”

“Shes a tiny?” Wilbur hummed.

The older woman nodded, “If you could, would you take him. There’s not much we can do but wait it out, but I think he’d feel better to be with his friends.”

That’s how Wilbur ended up with the sick teen snuggled up in his hands as he took him home.

“Just try to rest Tommy,” Wilbur sighed, “I’m sorry it’s so loud in here.”

With almost no pause Tommy’s head lulled back against his hand as he fell back asleep. Wilbur couldn’t push down the dread that clawed up his throat at how fragile he seemed.

As soon as the train slowed to a halt he jetted out to his apartment. His hands cupped around his tiny friend protectively the whole time. He shivered a bit against the frigid air, but all his mind could focus on was if Tommy was cold too.

His hands wrapped around the boy a bit tighter.

As soon as he go to his apartment he turned up the heat and laid Tommy down against the softest pillow he had. The teen groaned a bit, but his eyes didn’t open to Wilbur’s dismay. Half of him was still hoping this was a joke, and that any second Tommy would burst out into laughter about how gullible he was.

“Hey,” he whispered as he gently shook the pillow, “I’m going to make you some soup okay?”

After a few seconds one of Tommy’s eyes blinked open lazily. All he got was a short thumbs up from the tiny before he was asleep again.

With nervous hands Wilbur readied soup for the boy. The faster his hands worked the more he could try to avoid the poisonous thoughts threatening to get into his mind.

There was nothing he could do to help him

Wilbur let out a shaky breath, slowly stirring the soup in the pot. The thick comforting smell of the chicken broth filled his kitchen.

Tinies who get sick don’t make it

Quietly he dug through his cabinets until he found the small set of tiny utensils he had. He dug out a bowl and a spoon barely the size of his finger nail.

He was going to die

Wilbur felt his heartbeat stutter as he brought the small soup bowl back to his couch where the tiny was resting. From afar Tommy looked so helpless. His small body was curled up into a fetal position as his hands tried to grab onto the pillow below him.

“Hey Toms,” Wilbur kneeled down, “Here eat this. It’ll help.”

The boy’s eyes blinked open before he tiredly reached out for the bowl. His hand shook as he tried to bring a spoonful to his mouth.

“Thank you,” he whispered before he was sent into another coughing fit.

Wilbur’s teeth dug into his lip to stop himself from crying. However, the pain was only a slight distraction from the tiny.

As soon as he finished the bowl Wilbur scooped it up and threw it onto his counter. He could clean it later, but he didn’t want to spend any longer away from his friend. Slowly, trying not to wake the boy, he moved to lay down beside Tommy. Yet as soon as his head touched the pillow the tiny snuggled closer to him.

His small body pressed up against his nose searching for the warmth of the human. From so close he could feel how every laboured breath shook his best friends body. Tommy’s hands were freezing to the touch.

“Night Tom,” Wilbur sighed as the boy’s lungs racked with coughs again, “I’ve got you.”

Later that night once he was sure the tiny was asleep Wilbur let his tears falls.

“I love you,” he whispered over and over, barely louder than a breath, as he hoped to any god there was that Tommy would make it out okay.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #zeetle ask #ZEETLE MY BELOVED #ANGST TIME #angst #hurt/comfort #but mostly hurt #little streamer au #t!tommy #g!wilbur #corywrites

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

So...Misery style, how would you make Tomione work? (Or how would you do a Tomione story?)

Thanks, Anon, this might be harder than the Dramione one.

Well, again, to please my deranged captor, I'd likely follow the plot of your standard Tomione fic and hope it passes muster. "Oh yeah, Hermione's back in time and she's doing back and forth mind games with Tom and it's really intellectual." With any luck, my feet aren't smashed into oblivion.

But I think you're trying to get at what I would really do if I really had to write Tom/Hermione and I had to make it something I would read. At least, that seems to be the spirit of this ask.

So, we're going the thriller route people. A lot like Misery, actually.

Instead of Ginny, twelve-year-old Hermione picks up the diary. Like Ginny, Hermione quickly becomes besotted with Tom Riddle trapped inside. However, unlike Ginny, Hermione goes straight to the library and starts asking pesky questions.

Hermione's never heard of memories stored in objects before, the theory behind portraits and pensieves are completely different, what spells did Tom use and where did he find them? Did Tom Riddle invent an entirely new branch of magic at the age of 16 without anyone noticing? What was Tom's special service to the school?

Tom starts sweating when it becomes clear that Hermione's stumbling a bit too close to the truth (that this is not ordinary magic and highly dangerous shit) and that she's clearly going to start asking around about Tom Riddle (to Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Hagrid, who were all near Hogwarts at the same time Tom was going to school).

Tom confesses that he may have created the diary using something very... illegal. Hermione is appalled and asks if it was gasp dark magic! He admits it is but points out it's a bit late now, like it or not, he's stuck in the diary and running to Dumbledore isn't going to make that go away any time soon. And it wasn't like Tom asked to be shoved in a diary either.

Hermione's very conflicted, on the one hand, Tom's the first real intellectual friend she's ever had. Harry and Ron are nice, but they're morons and they thinks he's a nerd. Tom encourages her intellectual pursuits and confirms her concern over various what not and what have you happening in Hogwarts.

Eventually, Hermione decides that Tom in the diary can't help being a diary (though the other Tom, the real Tom, she'd have words with), and decides that she'll try to help him get a body.

Great, that's great, Tom says.

But it keeps getting worse.

Tom tries to possess Hermione, but unlike Ginny, Hermione knows that Tom is a dangerous, dark, artifact. If she's suffering negative health effects, losing her memory and ending up in the girl's lavatory, she's going to research this and decide that either a) she's suffering ill effects of using dark magic b) she just got possessed by Tom.

Either way, she tells him she can't use the diary anymore, it's affecting her health and she must research. Well, Hermione researching does Tom no fucking good, but he can't stop her.

The Chamber of Secrets, as a result, is never opened.

Instead, Hermione continues researching, and Harry and Ron... begin to get on her nerves. It's not like last year, there's no Flamel to research, no over-arching mystery, and they seem to be growing tired of her. In turn, Hermione's getting a little tired of quidditch, getting detention, etc.

She's a little tired of Hogwarts, if she's being honest with herself.

Hermione's now had a taste of having a friend who isn't there to simply use her brains. And it's very addicting. She decides not to tell Ron and Harry about Tom, they'd just get needlessly concerned (the irony of this isn't lost on her but what can you do)

In the end, she opens back up the diary, and point blank asks what Tom needs to get a body. Before Tom can tell her, Hermione lists out her own theories. Life cannot be created from nothing, golems and puppets cannot last in the long term, to get a real body... human sacrifice is on the table, isn't it?

Well shit, Tom thinks to himself. He tries to assure Hermione it isn't but ends up confessing that, well, yes, it kind of is.

They have another huge row about it, Hermione slams the diary shut, but the wheels in her brain are spinning.

Does anyone deserve to die?

Hermione, at first, adamantly tells herself the answer is no. No one deserves to be sacrificed. Tom's fate is cruel, but the original Tom made his bed and should lie in it. It's unfortunate, but that's just life. Not the diary's fault, of course, but nothing that can be helped.

But then she keeps thinking about it.

Malfoy struts through the school like a peacock, sneering every time he sees her, laughing every time Snape deducts points from her in Potions for being a 'smarmy know-it-all'. Every time he can get away with it he's shoving her in hallways, calling her a mudblood, and assuring her that she's worth less than the dirt beneath her feet.

She watches as Malfoy torments and bullies Harry, she looks at Draco's father, and she asks herself if the world would really be so much worse off if Draco Malfoy were to disappear?

Draco Malfoy's being groomed to use dark magic, he practically brags about it at every opportunity, why is his life worth more than Tom Riddle's, someone who has paid the price for dark magic?

Isn't Hermione, in a roundabout way, only giving Draco what he deserves? The fate he'd meet at some point in the not so distant future?

Draco does something phenomenally cruel and stupid to the trio, likely to Harry, and that settles it. Hermione's going to murder that motherfucker and get Tom Riddle a body.

Hermione tells Tom the plan, she's passing off the diary to Draco, she has her full blessing, her permission, and whatever help he requires from her to eat Draco Malfoy alive.

Tom is unwillingly impressed, he was a vicious gremlin as a twelve-year-old, but even he wasn't committing murder in cold blood.

Tom's not sure how he feels about murdering a Malfoy, that's bound to get noticed, but Hermione's unyielding. Draco Malfoy, or Hermione goes to Dumbledore.

So, Draco Malfoy it is.

The rest of the year is spent with Tom Riddle murdering Draco Malfoy and coming up with some excuse for his disappearance. The chamber isn't opened as Hermione reminds Tom that this would make it entirely too obvious who is behind this. Instead, Tom likely has Draco partake in increasingly erratic schemes to humiliate Harry Potter that end up endangering himself.

Near the end of school, Draco disappears into the Forbidden Forest to find acromantulas to put in Potter's bed and... never comes back.

A huge search is put on, Draco Malfoy is never found, and the acromantula infestation in the forest is now actively battled by ministry employees. Dumbledore is sacked as headmaster, Hagrid fired for having been responsible for the acromantulas in the first place, and Hogwarts is closed the following year.

Hermione is... conflicted about all of this. She certainly didn't mean to fire Hagrid (had no idea he was even remotely involved with the acromantulas) and certainly not Dumbledore. It wasn't Dumbledore's fault at all.

Tom, who is now a free man but has no idea what to do with himself, meets up with Hermione and points out that Dumbledore should have been sacked ages ago: he let kids get away with this stupidly dangerous shit and the year before actively endangered his students and lured a dark wizard into the castle. As for Hagrid, he raised a dragon illegally on school grounds, did release his pet acromantula into the wild, and more. They were terrible at their jobs.

Hermione, ever so reluctantly, agrees.

It's too bad though, Hagrid was very nice and Dumbledore's a great wizard (don't even get Tom started).

As for Tom, well, he had such dreams. Of course he planned to either meet up with his glorious self or (upon learning that Voldemort was blown up by a toddler) take the mantle of Voldemort for himself. But now that he's out, he has no idea where to start. Murder Harry Potter, certainly, but after that?

Tom only has the vaguest idea of who the original Death Eaters were, and they seem to have effectively scattered. More, how does he go about this? Sure, Tom had ideas when he was in school, but they were just ideas. He's never led a revolution before, has no idea how to impersonate an older, more knowledgeable, version of himself. He barely understands the political climate in this new, post-Voldemort, Britain.

Tom keeps hanging around Hermione because, well, inertia. He has no idea what else to do. (Hermione, while still torn over the consequences of her actions as well as the distant thought that she enabled murder, is quite delighted to have him around).

Tom tries to wheedle Harry's address out of Hermione and gets a lot more information than he bargained for. Harry lives with abusive muggle relatives, Dumbledore is apparently keeping him there, all of this sounds bizarre. Tom is officially weirded out.

Still wants to murder Harry, of course, but also wants to dig into this a little further...

And before this becomes a full on fic outline, eventually this will lead to the murder of Dumbledore, probably the murder of Ron when Ron inadvertently discovers 'the truth', Hermione telling Tom they're now an item, Tom trying to escape the relationship, only to learn there's no escaping Hermione.

Hermione becomes the next dark lord. Tom has no idea how this even happened.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #harry potter shipping #hermione granger #anti hermione granger #tom riddle #hermione/tom #anti hermione/tom #meta #headcanon #opinion #shipping

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nanatsumu · 3 years

Text

HIGH SCHOOL!SUKUNA x F!READER

thinking about bad boy itadori sukuna who all the kids at school try to steer clear from because they know he’s bad news and if you get involved with him then you’re bound to be tied with bad luck for as long as he lives. well, that is everyone except for the president of the student council who so happens to be his childhood best friend turned lover.

this is mostly written for my own self indulgence and to project my fantasies of having a boyfriend onto sukuna but feel free to treat this as any other headcanon! ps i am pretty sure canon sukuna would kill a baby at any given situation, but this is going to be a revamped version of sukuna written by yours truly ;) and its a high school au so sukuna won’t be a complete menace to society and will actually have a heart heh

also i didn’t realize how long this was going to be??? this is kind of all over place too because i just wanted to throw all of my thoughts onto this post so there might be some plot holes in this LOL

i feel like sukuna would be the type of bad boy who isn’t necessarily a bad boy but everyone at school just paints him as some kind of delinquent because of all the tattoos and piercings he has.

he actually shows up to school more often than you think he would (but that’s only because you’re in most of his classes so long story short: you’re his only motivation for attending class)

“forgets” to bring his work books to class more than usual (in reality he does this on purpose so he has an excuse to be near you) so he requests to sit next to you the entire class period so he can share with you for the meantime but whenever the teachers not looking he’ll go back to admiring your face.

his older twin brother, itadori yuji, is very fond of you since you three grew up together and you both had your chances of being a victim to his antics!

exhibit a: in middle school when you and yuji were watching tv together, the show you two were watching would keep switching to some wrestling match broadcasting on a sports channel and no matter how many times you turned the tv on and off, it just would not stop. but it wasn’t until you heard snickering from the kitchen that you realized sukuna had a spare remote and was the mastermind behind the whole thing.

exhibit b: sukuna and yuji’s mom was the owner of a bakery so every now and then she would have either one of the twins come deliver freshly baked pastries to your household! oh how wrong was she to trust her youngest. sukuna was now a freshman in high school, and by now you would’ve thought that sukuna would have grown out of his childish phase, but WRONG! sukuna was still a menace in your life even past childhood. so when you bit into one of the macaroons, instead of being hit with the overwhelming taste of [favorite flavor], all you could feel was the burning sensation of wasabi kicking into your tastebuds.

yeah after the whole wasabi macaroon freak accident, you stopped accepting everything sukuna offered to you and opted to only eating pastries out of the boxes that yuji delivered to you. (sukuna eventually caught onto this and was just TEENSY bit upset but he would rather down a whole tube of wasabi than to tell you upfront)

now, how did you two even end up dating??? oh boy now that is a story

you see, yours and sukuna’s dynamic growing up was similar to that of tom and jerry’s— you being jerry and sukuna being 10x worse than tom of course

but it wasn’t until a confession after school behind the cherry blossom tree that was known for bringing good luck to successful confessions that sukuna finally realized that maybe he really did like you just a little lot bit

sukuna overheard the boy who was planning on confessing to you talking to his friend group about how “sweet and caring” you are (although sukuna could argue otherwise, you were a little brat. *LIKE HELLO?!&:&:& YOU WEREN’T THE ONE WHO ATE A MACAROON FILLED WASABI**) and obviously his ears perked up at the mention of your name. he grew up with you after all so naturally he would be interested in a conversation that revolved around you.

but then the boys started going on about how “you looked like an easy catch” and how “your body was bangin’!” yeah no, that’s where he drew the line. sure sukuna was an ass and talked shit about you most of the time (in his defense it wasn’t like he was doing it behind your back) but if he ever caught someone else talking about you like that then he would be sure to give them a hard time.

he hid behind one of the bushes near the cherry blossom tree while the boy was professing his love for you. funnily enough, for a moment sukuna forgot why he was originally there because he was too busy trying to stifle a laugh as he watched the boy stumble over his words.

“okay shows over” sukuna thought as the confession was reaching its conclusion, but just as he was about to step in and give the poor boy a piece of his mind, he stopped in his tracks when he heard you roaring with laughter.

“did you really think that i wouldn’t hear about what you and your friends said about me earlier? you’re really pathetic if you think any girl would be easy enough to fall to her knees for you because news flash! you’re a disgusting pig and you deserve to rot in hell for speaking about a girl’s worth like that.”

“it’s kind of sad too, i thought you were a nice boy and i probably would have given you a chance but it seems like you’re even worse than scum! damn it, to think there was somebody out there who’s even worse than sukuna.”

of course sukuna was not pleased to hear that last bit, but he did have a proud grin forming on his face as he watched the boy run away, flustered from your rejection and the embarrassment he was put through.

“sukuna i know you’re hiding behind the bush.”

“huh? i came here way before you got here, there’s no way you could have seen me.” he said as he stood up to his full height.

“well, your laughter isn’t exactly the quietest, plus i can spot that hair of yours from a mile away.”

lets just say, sukuna was glad you didn’t ask him what he was doing there because he wasn’t sure if he could spare the embarrassment of telling you that he was planning on ruining the confession.

after that whole fiasco happened, sukuna started to feel(!&:&::&) things

like he started to notice how you styled your hair differently one day and how you switched to a new perfume that smelled like spearmint (was that weird? for sukuna probably not. he just excuses it as being highly observant)

you weren’t dumb either, you had a feeling sukuna was there that day of the confession because he too had overheard the conversation between the boy and his friends as well (you knew he was prideful and if you brought it up then he probably would��ve denied it)

so from there on out it was just mutual pining at the point except... well.... not really??

i feel like it was just an unspoken agreement between you two that you guys were “together” but not “together together” because he started to treat you differently than he would before. like for example, he’d carry your bag for you whenever you guys would walk home (yuji was confused by this at first because if anything, it would have made more sense to see sukuna make you carry HIS bag, but he eventually caught on to sukuna’s feelings for you because they were twin brothers after all), he started walking you to class more often even though his class was all the way on the other side of the school (you asked him why but he just shrugged and said he was just “killing time” so that he wouldn’t have to go to class and then you ended up scolding him), and there was also that one time you miraculously found a $20 bill in your backpack after mentioning to sukuna that there was this cute top you saw at the mall the other day but didn’t have enough money at the time to purchase it (you asked him about this but he said it was probably yuji, but you didn’t want to pry any further since you wanted to cherish the fact that sukuna cared that much)

but eventually you got sick of this whole push and pull game that you physically had to tug the collar of his school uniform and pull him in for a kiss (he was visibly shocked at this because he never would’ve imagined you as the assertive type. not that he was complaining though)

“oya? didn’t think you liked me this much kitten.” he said laughing while you rolled your eyes.

“as if, i got tired of you being a wuss so one of us had to wear the pants in the relationship.” you snorted, causing him to irk.

to be honest, your relationship with him is smooth sailing because you both were pretty chill people and you didn’t have to worry about him sneaking behind your back to see other girls because 1. literally all the girls at school are terrified of him and 2. he knew what you were capable of doing to him if you were to ever catch him cheating on you so he wants to stay on your good side

jealous and possessive don’t exist in his dictionary because he is the epitome of those two words. remember what i said about how your relationship is smooth sailing? i kinda lied.

he’s easily jealous like for example: when you were in english class and the teacher had you guys jot down some notes, you realized you forgot to ask for your pencil back when you lent it to your friend last period.

so you asked sukuna to borrow a pencil but instead of giving you a pencil, he called you an idiot for being so forgetful.

this makes you mad so you turn to your male classmate since he was sitting on your opposite side and ask him for a pencil instead.

sukuna was practically fuming the entire class period and once the day ended and you two were back at your place, he made sure to mark you real good. (oh he also went out to buy a pack of mechanical pencils to sneak into your backpack so that next time you forget your pencils, you’ll have 10 extra pencils sitting in your backpack as backup)

he’s not a big fan of pda in public, but on the chances he will show some of it, the most he will do is wrap an arm around your shoulder or waist whenever some dude is trying to hit on you.

BUT IN PRIVATE? better buckle up because your in for a ride wink wink

really likes putting hickeys on you to a fault! but will never put any visible ones on your neck because he doesn’t want your parents to view him as some kind of animal (but he has nothing to worry about because your parents really like him and are grateful for the fact that he’s very loyal to you, and you guys grew up together so it’s only natural that your parents are accepting of him since they already know he has a good heart underneath that tough facade of his)

oh, and yuji starts learning how to knock whenever you come over (or shuts himself in his room for the meantime if he thinks it’s unsafe to step out of his room) because chances are, you’re probably making out with sukuna in his room or smth.

now onto the spicy stuff

when you and sukuna first started dating, the first thing you told him was that you weren’t ready to have sex yet because you were nervous and sukuna understood and told you that he was willing to wait for whenever you were ready.

but when you were ready though, it was kind of spontaneous and you weren’t even wearing a matching pair of bra and underwear that day

you two were chilling in your room watching some stupid (according to sukuna) animal documentary when suddenly you felt his hand on your thigh

dating sukuna and all, it was normal for him to have his hands on some part of your body (whether it be your thigh or your waist) while you two were in bed.

but you were feeling a bit bolder HORNEE than usual so you began to leave a hot trail of kisses starting from his jaw all the way down to his neck.

sukuna obviously got the memo but before those kisses could escalate into something more daring, he asked you once more if you were completely sure you wanted to do it and once you gave him the green light, he was quick to tug his shirt over his head and pounce on you.

he started getting really into it though and accidentally bit your thigh which made you loose your high and scold him for it, but he let out a hearty laugh and muttered a quick apology before getting back into business

sike i lied, remember what i said about it being spontaneous? yeah, you technically didn’t loose your virginity to him that day because after he finished prepping you, you both came to a realization that you didn’t have a condom.

oh well, there’s always next time!

i think sukuna is a sucker for pet names: his favorite thing to call you is either kitten or princess and that’s it LOL he finds calling you baby or babe is a bit too cheesy for him

but he likes it when you call him baby or babe ;)

date nights consist of either staying in and cuddling in his room, going out for a walk at night (but very very late though. there’s still lamp posts that guide your way through the streets but it gives you the heebie jeebies to be out walking outside so late. sukuna always reminds you that nothing bad will happen as long as he’s right by your side), or just spending time with you and your families.

but if you’re really down to do it, he’ll probably initiate a make out session that’ll lead to y’all fucking one way or another (he only ever does it if he is 100% sure that you’re feeling it because he knows you get easily embarrassed if he asks you straight up)

(this part is mainly written for me because i love the idea of sukuna being over at family functions, but it can be applied as part of the general hc heh) if you took him to any of your family functions as your plus one for the first time, all the aunts and uncles would be a bit wary of him at first due to all of the tattoos and piercings he has (sukuna swears he has never felt so self conscious before) but after they strike up a conversation with him and find out that he’s actually a good guy who knows what he wants to do in the future and is very loyal to you, they start to like him more.

your little cousins adore him and love it when he comes over because sukuna is a very tall high schooler which makes him the perfect candidate as a monkey bar

so when you noticed that all the little ones started to climb on his body and mess around with his hair, you were quick to react because you knew your boyfriend was easily irritable which prompted you to think he hated kids

but there was nothing to worry about because when you saw him playing around with them and even crack a smile, you felt your heart grow fuzzy at the sight and you knew right then and there that you wanted to stick by sukuna’s side for the rest of your life

and in the unfortunate circumstances that sukuna is too busy to make it to one of your functions, the first thing everyone asks is “where’s your boyfriend?” or “where’s ‘kuna? i wanna play with him!”

so you have to facetime him and let him know that everyone is wondering where he is (your phone is dead by the end of the night because after the adults get their turn at saying hi to your boyfriend, the kids snatch your phone and end up talking to him for the rest of the night)

but in conclusion, everyone is waiting for the day he gets on one knee to propose to you and your parents are itching to get to get call sukuna their son-in-law :))

also don’t forget that your parents want two grandchildren: one boy and one girl!

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna hc #ryomensukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen hc #jjk hc #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #anime #anime fanfic #jjk

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let-me-luve-you · 4 years

Text

Separated Cherries

Tom Holland x Sister

Summary: The reader deals with anxiety and one form of the readers anxiety is separation anxiety. She really misses Tom so he flies her to Cleveland while he’s working on Cherry. He later admits how hard it was for him to worry about her and focus on the seriousness of the character.

Warnings: anxiety, separation anxiety, angst, protective Tom, talks of Cherry (nothing is mentioned specific i don’t think, but I do mention that it was hard for Tom to film it and how it deals with difficult topics)

A/N: I’m awful. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for the late post but I hope you enjoy it!! This was for a special person and I hope they enjoy it! Also I mention a scene in Cherry but don’t go into detail but if you have watched the press tour, you may know what scene I’m talking about. Or if you’ve seen the movie, you may know what scene I’m talking about. I tried to avoid spoilers so I hope you like this story.

MASTERLIST BUY ME A COFFEE

The days leading up to Tom leaving, you didn’t leave his side. He didn’t mind though. He loved having you around. You grounded him and reminded of the normal life he left behind when he went to be The Tom Holland the world knows and loves.

Earlier this month, Tom took you with him to Utah for a convention. You had never gone to one before so Tom thought this would be a good time. Tom also was being a little selfish and wanted you there with him since he was still dealing with the news of Spider-Man leaving the MCU.

Now he’s about to leave for Cleveland to film Cherry. A movie Tom knew was going to be a challenge for him. The Russo’s fought for him to be in this movie. They wanted Tom in this role more than anybody. They even got a job for Harry. You had asked Tom, when he first learned of the filming dates, if you could go with him. Since Tom knew the contents of the movie and how dark it was, he didn’t want you around that, so he said no.

Now, it’s the night before he’s leaving. You are curled up on his bed watching him pack his bag. “Don’t forget your blue light glasses.” You said.

“Already have them packed in my carry-on with my laptop and chargers.” He said to you with a smile. “Thank you though. I do forget them all the time.” You laughed.

You turned serious, “I’m going to miss you. I know you said I couldn’t go, but I still wish I could go with you.” Tom sighed.

“I know. I’m going to miss you too, but this film is just going to be dealing with a lot of serious issues and I don’t want you to have to see me like that.” He said, honestly.

“I know. Can I still call you though?” You asked sheepishly.

“Always.” He said before turning to his dresser to get socks and underwear. “So, what are your plans for the next few months?”

“I plan on helping mum. She apparently has a lot of shoots. Probably taste test all of Sam’s food.” You laughed.

“I’m so jealous. I have yet to find something I don’t like of Sam’s.” Tom said.

“He is a great cook.” Tom agreed. “Paddy apparently has a show he’s going to be on, so I’ll help him with that in any way I can. And Dad is working on a new book, so whatever he needs me to do, I’ll do.”

“You really are great, you know that?” Tom asked as he paused his packing to come sit next to you. He wrapped you in a hug. “Are you going to do anything for you?” You shrugged. “Do me a favor? Do something for you. Learn to do more for you. You help all of those around you, but you rarely do things for you. Draw more or hide away and read. Go out to a party or go do something with your friends. Remember to take care of you. Promise me, you’ll try to do that.”

“Promise.” You said. He squeezed you tighter in the hug and gave you a kiss on your head before getting up to finish his packing.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Tom finished packing and put his bags by the front door. You both got comfy on his bed and watched a movie. You were the first to fall asleep and first to wake up the next day. Tom’s and Harry’s flight wasn’t until 10 am and it was currently 630. You decided to make them a good breakfast so they would be fine until the flight gave out their lunch.

“What are you doing?” You heard a tired voice. You looked over your shoulder to see Tom walking up to sit at the counter. You smiled at him and fixed him a cup of tea.

“I’m making you and Harry breakfast.” You said cheerfully. You walked back over to the stove and finished making the eggwhite omelet. Tom was on a strict diet so you made something he could eat, but also something that he liked. You put it on a plate and set it in front of him.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Tom said. “But thank you. This looks delicious.” “What looks delicious?” Harry asked as he sat next to Tom. “Oooh. I want one.”

“It’s coming right up.” You said as you set a tea in front of him and turned back to making his omelette.

“Thank you Y/N.” Harry said, taking a sip of his freshly made tea. “Can I hire you to be my personal assistant?” You all laughed. “When we get home, I’ll treat you to dinner via Sam’s cooking.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m holding you to it.” You said. “I’m really going to miss you guys.”

“Just a few months and then we will be home for Christmas.” Tom said standing up to put his plate in the sink.

“I know. Still sucks. I hate when you leave.” You opened up. You had been holding it in. You felt bad for dropping it on him right before he leaves, but it needed to be said. “It always just feels different around here. I don’t know how to describe it, but it doesn’t feel like we are complete.”

“I know it’s not ideal to have two brothers that are constantly traveling for work. That we aren’t here for family dinners, but we are a phone call or text away. Reach out and we will try to answer as quickly as possible.” Tom said looking into your eyes. You could see that he meant them.”

“Ignore me. I’m just in my feels this morning. I’ll be okay.” You whispered. You wrapped Tom in a hug. “I’m proud of you, you know? It’s so great to see you out there doing what you love and seeing the people’s lives that you touch.”

“Thank you y/n/n. I love you.” Tom said kissing your forehead.

“Love you too.” You squeezed him tighter before pulling away and wrapping Harry in a hug. “Love you too Hairball.”

Harry scoffed at the nickname you gave him when you were both extremely young and you were mad at him. “Don’t call me that…” He paused before hugging you back. “Love you too.”

“Now you better get going before you’re late.” You said. “I also packed you small snack bags and put them in your carry ons.”

“You’re the best.” Tom said as he walked to put his shoes on. “Thank you y/n/n.” Harry said doing the same.

You watched them grab their bags and walk out of the house with one last smile. You sighed and went back to your room to take a nap. Already missing your brothers, you decided to turn on Spider-Man Homecoming.

It is now mid-October and you were missing Tom and Harry more than anything. You tried to hangout with Sam and Paddy more to try to not feel the sadness of missing your other two brothers. Paddy didn’t want to hangout with you. He was too busy hanging out with his friends and playing football. Sam was always at the restaurant or in the kitchen at your parents house. You would stay with him and watch him cook, but it wasn’t the same.

Your sleep schedule was messed up due to the fact you were staying up late watching Netflix. Looking over at the clock, it read 3 am. Pulling your phone from your bedside table, you pulled up Tom’s contact and decided to FaceTime him. It only rang for a couple of seconds before he answered.

“Is everything okay?” Tom asked worriedly. You could tell he was laying in bed.

“Yeah. I just wanted to talk to you.” You answered honestly.

“It’s 3 am where you are! Why are you not asleep?” His eyes widened as he realized how late it was for you.

“I can’t. My schedules messed up. I’m fine. Did I wake you?” You asked, scared of the answer.

“No. I was just watching some TV before I went to bed. I have a 7am call time.” He said and you breathed a sigh of relief for not waking him.

“How was filming today?” You said looking at his tired eyes.

“It was good. We did a hard scene today, but it went really well. We have another hard, long day again tomorrow.” Tom rubbed the tired out of his eyes. He was just about to fall asleep when called.

“I’m sorry you’ve had some hard days.” You said sincerely.

“Thanks but it’s okay. Thankfully Harry’s here. He’s really helping me.” Tom sighed.

“I’d help you if I was there. I know it’s hard, but I’m proud of you.” You said with your eyes tearing up.

“Are you doing okay?” Tom asked concern noticing the change of tone in your voice. “Mum said you’ve been at the house a lot.”

“I’m doing okay. I went and got my nails done today with Chandra.” You said showing Tom the Marvel based nails. With Tom only being a year older than you, he got you into Marvel when you were younger. Spider-Man was always your favorite and when Tom got the role, you celebrated just as much or even more than he did.

“I like them. They’re pretty.” Tom said with a small smile. “How are you holding up though with me and Harry being gone? I haven’t asked in a while.”

You sighed and looked away from Tom. You didn’t want him to know how much you missed him, but you missed your best friend. “I’m good. Been hanging out with friends more and I help Sam when he’s at home. Mum, Dad, and I have had movie nights. It’s been good.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, still concerned. You felt a tear you had been fighting fall down your cheek. You looked away from the phone. “Y/N/N. Look at me.”

Shaking your head, “I’m fine Tom. I just miss my best friend.”

“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.” He said.

“I’ll be okay.” You whispered.

“How about this…” Tom said. “Let me fly you out to visit. We are about to do some of the easier stuff and you can come stay with us while the scenes aren’t so intense.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m just being weird.” You said not wanting for him to be pressured into inviting you.

“Separation anxiety isn’t you being weird. It’s an actual thing.” He said sincerely. He cared about you. You didn’t know you had this issue until Tom got the role of Spider-Man and left for Atlanta. Your mum noticed you clingy to them more or your other brothers. When Tom arrived home you stuck to him like glue. Your mum decided to take you to a doctor to see if there was anything to do for you. You learned the anxiety medicine didn’t help you and talking to a therapist only went so far. All you wanted, was to be with your whole family.

“I’ll get Harry to schedule you a flight. Pack warm clothes and at least two weeks worth.” He said.

“No, Tom, it’s okay. I’ll be okay.” You fought back.

“I’m serious. Come stay with us. Harry will get your flight.” He kept fighting back.

“If you're sure.” You said softly. Tom almost didn’t hear it.

“I’m sure. I miss you too. Plus having you here may help me.” Tom said, laying back down on his pillow. You could tell he was tired, but he was staying awake for you.

“I appreciate it, T.” You spoke honestly. “I really do miss you. I love you.”

“Love you too y/n/n.” He whispered while fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Night.” Tom said before hanging up. You smiled knowing you were finally going to get to see your brother again very soon. You laid back on your bed and finally felt the exhaustion from staying up late. You could worry about what you were going to pack tomorrow.

When Tom told Harry to schedule you a flight out, Harry accidentally scheduled it too early. Tom still had some hard scenes to film. When you landed in America, he didn’t want you to come to set, but he didn’t want to leave you at home either.

Harry showed you where you could go and couldn’t. You basically only went to Tom’s trailer, the bathroom, the food tent, and Tom’s chair. Today, Tom begged you not to come because he knew the day was full of hard things. He knew what the last scene was going to be filmed and he didn’t want you to see that.

You insisted you could handle it. You didn’t want to be alone. You wanted to spend time with your brother. Tom finally gave in after you promised you would stay in his trailer during that final scene.

Throughout the day, you stayed close to Tom. When he wasn’t filming or on set, you were right beside him. He tried to be understanding of how you were feeling, but he really needed to step away from everything he’s been feeling for filming.

“How’s your sandwich?” Tom asked at dinner. It had been a long day and there was only one more thing to film before there were four days off.

“It’s good. How’s your salad?” You asked, pointing at his plate.

“It’s good.” He said nonchalantly. You knew he was craving more food. You had asked Harry to go get him a cheeseburger with fries. You looked up and noticed him carrying a bag from Five Guys.

You smiled and Tom looked over his shoulder. “Thanks for going to get that Harry.” You said as Harry sat next to you. You grabbed the bag and pulled out the burger and fries. “Eat up Tom. I know you’re hungry for more.”

“I can’t you guys.” Tom said in a defeated tone. “I’m still on this diet. I can’t. I can’t do that to everyone that’s working on this film.”

You sighed, “Tom, you have had salads everyday for two weeks. You can have one burger. You need more food.” Tom looked at you and then looked at Harry.

“I mean, I did go get it and I agree with Y/N. You do need to eat more and it will be okay. One cheeseburger won’t hurt.” Harry said. Finally Tom agreed to eating the food Harry brought. “Y/n/n are you going to set tonight?”

“No. I promised Tom I wouldn’t be there.” You answered honestly. Harry looked over at Tom shocked. Harry figured Tom would want you there since it’s such a hard scene. Maybe have someone other than him that’s familiar.

“You can come work with me.” Harry told you.

Tom looked up at him shocked. “I don’t want her to see this. It’ll be hard enough to have her watching it in the movie.”

“I think it’ll be good for her to be there. It’s a hard scene and I won’t be able to be there between takes.” Harry said. Harry was doing a new role tonight and needed to focus on that.

“It’s okay Harry. I can wait in the trailer. I brought my book.” You said with a smile. Trying to help Tom out so he doesn’t feel like he’s being teamed up on. Tom smiled at you gratefully. Harry turned to Tom and started to whisper something to him. You watched Tom’s demeanor change. He rolled his eyes before turning back to you.

“You can come. Bring your book and a blanket. You can sit in my chair.” Tom said finally giving into Harry.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting in the trailer. Promise.” You told Tom. Tom finished eating his food before standing up to go to his trailer with you and Harry following. He walked in and grabbed your book off of the counter and grabbed your blanket. “Let’s go.” Tom said as he walked out the door towards the set.

“Tom. I’m not going.” You said. Harry shook his head and started to push you towards set. “I promised I wouldn’t go.”

“Come on y/n/n. I promise it’s okay. I don’t count this as a broken promise. I want you there.” Tom said with a sigh. You decided not to keep fighting with him about it. You ran to catch up with him and grabbed the blanket and book from him. “Thank you.” He whispered. “This is going to be a difficult scene to watch, so I’m sorry for what you have to see.”

“It’s okay Tom. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” You said with a small smile.

Later that night, Tom was in the makeup trailer getting his makeup removed. You were sitting in his trailer with Harry waiting to go home. You tried to hold in your tears. You hated seeing Tom like that.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“Great.” You said forcing a smile.

Harry looked at you skeptically and then nodded. He pulled out his phone and sent the video he got to Tom. You were exhausted and just wanted to go to sleep. You decided to lay down and rest your eyes until Tom got back. You were just about to fall into a deep sleep when you heard Tom walk in.

“Should I send this to mum?” Tom asked with a laugh.

“Do it.” Harry laughed. “But first, let’s go home. I think someone needs a bed.”

Tom looked over at your sleeping body. He smiled at you. Harry was right. Having you there helped him. This was probably the hardest scene he was going to have to film in the whole movie.

“Go get the car. I’ll bring her out.” Tom said as he started putting your stuff in your backpack. He quickly put his and your backpacks over his shoulder before he moved over towards you. He picked you up bridal style and made sure the blanket didn’t fall off. “Shhh. It’s just me. We’re going home.” He said when you started to wake.

Pulling up to the house, Tom decided to shake you awake this time. You woke and looked around confused before you unbuckled and walked into the house. You crashed on the couch and watched Tom set your backpack in the chair.

“How are you doing? Today was hard.” You said.

Tom picked your feet up and sat down before he placed your feet in his lap. He laid his head back. “Today sucked. I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.” Tom said with a sigh.

“Want to talk about it?” You asked.

“No. There isn’t much to talk about. I just need to get out of that mental mindset.” Tom said honestly. “How are you? That had to be hard to watch.”

You finally let a tear slip. “I’m okay. I just didn’t like seeing you like that.”

“I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to see the hard parts.” He said, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. I promise. It’s scary to think people actually go through that. I don’t want to see you or anyone go through this.” You whispered.

“Hopefully this movie brings light to these situations and starts a conversation.” Tom said, giving you a kiss on the head before releasing you. “Now no more talks of this. Let’s try to forget about today and watch a movie instead.”

Tom started up a comedy to try and bring the mood up. Harry joined you after changing into his pajamas. Mid way through the movie, you fell asleep. Tom looked over at you. He knew you being here helped you, but in his head he was worried about you and everything you were seeing. It was hard to focus on you and filming.

It’s now been a year since Tom finished filming Cherry. Tom invited you to come with him to film Spider-Man No Way Home. He went three months without seeing you after the pandemic due to his heavy film schedule for Uncharted. He knew those were hard days for you since you went from spending all day with him to not even seeing him.

Now Tom was doing press for Cherry since it is due to come out in a few weeks. He set up in the living room. Harry had got a ring light to make the videos look better. You were supposed to be out while Tom was doing his few interviews for the day, but you got back early. He still had one more to go. You decided to sit in your room so you wouldn’t interrupt.

Even with your door closed, you could hear Tom talking to the interviewer. What you heard made your heart stop.

“Tom, your brother and sister were with you when filming Cherry, right?” they asked.

“They were. Harry helped on the film. Even had a small role. And my sister, Y/N, came out to visit and stayed the rest of filming.” Tom answered.

“Did having them there help you?”

“It did. This was a role I had to go to a dark place. Having them there really helped ground me and bring me back from that dark place. They definitely had my back during these times. I was actually on a strict diet throughout filming. Y/N actually made Harry go get me a cheeseburger on her first night there because she knew that I needed a little more substance. I had two weeks worth of salads and she knew I needed a little more. On nights of hard filming, we would all sit in the living room and watch a comedy because it all took us a while to calm down from the day. So having them there was very important to me.”

“That's amazing to hear.” they said. “It’s always good to have family there for you. You said there were hard filming nights. Even though it was hard, which was your favorite?”

“There was one scene that was extremely hard to film. The entire day was hard. Sadly, it was my sister’s first day there. I didn’t want her to see those scenes, but it was good to have her there. The day was a couple of scenes that dealt with something with Emily. The whole day was based on that situation. It was a variety of emotions. I had to be scared, angry, sad.” Tom said. “I actually sent my mum a video from that and she was not happy. She called me immediately to tell me she didn’t appreciate it.” He laughed.

“Can you give us a hint of what that was?” they asked.

“I don’t want to give too much away, but it’s when I’m in the truck. You’ll know when you see it because it involves Emily and it’s very hard to watch.” Tom said.

“You say it’s hard to watch and that was your sister’s first day, how did she handle it? And how did Harry handle it?” you heard them ask. They were starting to dig deeper.

“Harry was the one that filmed that scene so I could send it to my mum.” Tom laughed. He knew Nikki would give him heck for it later, but he knew it was only because she cared. “My sister actually hated watching that scene. She’ll hate me for saying this, but she cried. It scared her because she said it felt real and she didn’t want to see anyone like that.”

“That makes sense. Both of you are close in age, how are the two of yours relationship? It has to be good for you to allow her to visit during such a hard movie.”

“We are very close. She’s my best friend. I can say this because she openly talks about it and helps raise money for charities, but she has anxiety and one thing that really affects her is her separation anxiety. It was great to have her on set because she brought me back to myself, helped me get out of that dark mindset. But at times, I felt I was more worried about her and making sure she was okay. Mixing the stress of taking care of her and the stress of playing the role was hard to take on.”

You listened and felt tears build up. You made Tom’s job harder. You felt a tear fall down your face and you held back a sob so Tom couldn’t hear. You immediately went to the closest and grabbed your suitcase. You started packing your clothes. Once you were finished you set it near the door and grabbed your laptop so you could find a plane ticket. Tom walked in as you were searching.

“Why is your suitcase out?” He asked, confused.

“I’m going home.” You said shortly.

“Why?” He questioned.

“I’m just a burden to you. I don’t want you to have to worry about me while you focus on filming. I just like being in the same city as you. I didn’t mean to add stress to you.” You said as a tear slipped.

Tom sighed, “You heard?” He asked. You nodded. “Did you hear everything?”

“I didn’t need to. I heard enough.” You said honestly.

“So you didn’t hear what I said after that?” He asked. You shook your head. “I told them that it was worth it. That I would go through 20 times the stress if it meant you were happy and safe. That your anxiety wasn’t holding you back. That I used some of the stress from caring about you to help with the film. You remember the emotional scene in Morocco.” You once again shook your head. “I used the stress to make that scene. I know that sounds bad, but I think that really helped me hit the emotion I needed.”

“That was a beautiful scene. From what I saw, it’s one of my favorites for you. It’s heartbreaking, but you made the viewers feel what you were feeling. That was because of me?” Tom nodded his head.

“I’m sorry for admitting to it, but just know, if we redid all of the filming, I would have you there from day 1. I love having you around. I have all this noise around me that is trying to change me and having you here helps keep me the kid from Kingston.” Tom said. “Please don’t leave. I really do want you here.”

You looked around at your room. You then focused on your suitcase. You thought about it. “I’ll stay.” Tom smiled when you looked at him. “Only if you promise me something.”

“Anything.” He agreed.

“If I am stressing you out, in the way, or affecting your work, you tell me. I’ll stay here for a few days or I’ll go home. I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

“Your anxiety isn't a problem. It’s something you battle and I want to help you fight.” Tom interfered.

“I know. And you will. But if it affects you, it isn’t fighting, it’s a problem. So please promise me that you’ll tell me.” You begged.

“I promise. But know you are never a burden to me. You are my best friend and I love you. I want you here. Trust me on that.” Tom said as he pulled you into a hug. “Now, are you ready to go to dinner? We have an early day on set tomorrow.”

You nodded. You knew that your anxiety was a battle but you didn’t want to bother Tom. You knew he was telling the truth when he said you weren’t a burden. You knew the thought would come back, but you had to tell yourself that it was your anxiety. Now working on your separation anxiety would be worked on at a later date.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x sister #tom holland x holland!reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x sister!reader #brother!tom holland #brother!tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland rpf #cherry #tom holland sister #holland!sister #holland!reader #y/n holland #tom holland angst

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startanewdream · 3 years

Text

Use it well

Summary: Harry and Ginny discuss giving the Invisibility Cloak to their oldest son.

For @velvethopewrites! Hope you have a wonderful birthday 💖

Thanks so much for @gryffindorhealer for helping me sort out this!

______

'Al — no, stop it, I don't care what James said, you can't just take his wand — Lily, you don't fit in his trunk, get out — James, it's eleven already, just go to sleep — Al, I told you, no wand!'

There is a puff of dark purple smoke, and then silence.

Al drops the wand quickly, hurrying outside the room, Lily leaves James' trunk following her brother out, and Ginny shakes her wand to vanish the smoke.

'Thanks', James says, picking up his wand and placing it carefully on the bedside table, before lying lazily in his bed. 'Didn't fancy spending my last night here coughing that smoke.'

There is a smile in the corner of Ginny's mouth. 'Last night,' she repeats, amused. 'You are going to Hogwarts, not leaving here forever.'

James shrugs, eyes moving to watch his things, all meticulously ready for the trip tomorrow. He was never the most organized, but his enthusiasm is evident; he dreamt of Hogwarts ever since he saw Teddy going six years ago, talking about it non-stop.

And since Ginny is the last person that could judge him for wanting to do something his older brother did, she just messies with his dark red hair.

'Try to rest, James. You don't want to sleep through the journey tomorrow.'

'Did you?,' he asks curiously. 'Sleep the night before.'

Ginny remembers writing in Tom's diary the night before Hogwarts, sharing her excitement with him. That was before, when he was playing nice, when he was her friend.

But she doesn't want to damp James' mood, so she goes with: 'Not really. But my mother told me too anyway.'

He laughs a little, then he looks away, biting his lips, a telltale announcement of his embarrassment. 'Mum… before I sleep, could you call Dad?'

She feels a sudden urge to run and hug him. Eleven years, ready to start his magic education, acting all confident around his young siblings, and her first son wants his father's assurance.

But she doesn't do anything. She remembers hugging her parents before embarking Hogwarts, desperate to go after years dreaming of it, and yet a little afraid too.

'Sure. Good dreams, James.'

He smiles at her, and Ginny leaves the room.

She should check her other kids, but they are quiet in their room after that purple smoke and she will first get Harry.

But when she arrives at their room, Harry is sitting in the bed, a thoughtful look on his face, and to Ginny's surprise he holds his Invisibility Cloak in his hand, feeling the fabric.

She frowns for a moment before closing the door and sitting next to him, keeping her expression devoid of any concern.

'Crisis averted,' she announces quietly. 'Purple smoke drove the kids away.'

'Purple smoke?'

'Yeah, Albus was playing with James' new wand and this felt like a good occasion for a tiny drop of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Albus thought he did it and they all thought they were in trouble, and that was the end.'

There is a shadow of a smile on his face, but his lips stay still. 'Good one.'

'Yeah, well, I use my tricks while they work. Soon enough they will be too smart for it.'

She waits for him to say something, but Harry just keeps looking sorrowful. Her hand flies to the back of his neck, massaging it, hoping to ease his tension.

'James called you. He wants some fatherly advice.'

'He is nervous.'

'More than he admits, yeah.'

'I was on my way to talk to him — sorry for letting you handle them alone —'

'Nothing I couldn't take care of, Harry,' she says, shrugging. 'Just between us, I will miss all this noise.'

'Yeah…'

Harry's mind is still far away. She lays her head over his shoulder, her hand touching his over the soft fabric of the cloak.

'What's going on, Harry?' she asks softly.

He sighs.

'I am going to give James the Invisibility Cloak.'

She nods, quietly. They've already discussed this — how Harry doesn’t use his cloak much anymore ever since he started working as Head Auror, how they can trust James to not make too much trouble —, but it seems something else is bothering him.

‘I thought of wrapping it, attaching a note to tell him to use it well, you know, all mysterious like the card I received, and I was going to, but… it felt weird.’

‘Why?’

He bites his lip, looking very much like his son doing the same, as much as James resembles Ginny more.

‘It’s the only thing I have,’ he whispers. When she looks confused, raising her eyebrows, he gives her a guilty look. ‘That was my father’s, only his.’

‘Oh.’

‘It’s stupid,’ he adds, looking sheeplish, and she can see the bricks he is using to build a wall around him. She entwines their fingers, and Harry closes his hand, pressing her fingers as if he wants to share her strength.

‘No, it’s not. It makes sense.’

‘No, I mean, this is as much mine as it’s James and Albus and Lily’s, it’s their inheritance too —’

‘I said it made sense, not that it was right,’ she notes kindly.

He nods. ‘I know. I feel so… spoiled, like I have this shiny toy I don’t want to lend to anyone —’

'Now you are being unfair,’ she cuts him. ‘You are many things, Harry, but spoiled you never were. Too humble for that, it was always your charm.’

‘But if I can’t give it away—’

‘You are not. Giving it away, I mean. I think you are just looking at it the wrong way. The Cloak will remain yours just as it will be James’, and someday Albus’ and Lily’s too’. Ginny turns to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Just like it still belongs to James Potter and your grandfather and all the family you once saw in that enchanted Mirror.’

Harry smiles distantly. ‘The first time I saw that Mirror I was using this Cloak. It was the first time I was seeing my family, you know?’ Ginny nods quietly. This is a story that always makes her eyes tear up a bit, but she won’t cry, not now. ‘I have so many good memories of this Cloak.’

‘We’ve even made a few,’ she notes, winking at him, and Harry almost chuckles. ‘I think cryptic messages are overrated. Just show the Cloak to James. He will love it.’ She hesitates just a little. ‘And… isn’t this better this way? Sharing this moment with him?’

He smiles sadly. ‘It’s what my father would want, right?’

Ginny sighs. ‘I don’t know. This is something we can only guess. But — what do you want?’

‘Well,’ his smile is a little more normal now, ‘he will get into much more trouble if he doesn’t have it.’

‘Harry,’ she calls softly. ‘Why do you want?’

He turns to her, raising his free hand to hold her face.

‘I want him to be happy. I want him to enjoy the Cloak like I did — less walks to the Forbidden Forest, though, more late night walks to the kitchen.’

‘He will,’ she assures him. ‘We made this world so he could have fun, not use it to survive.’

‘And this is all I wish for him,’ he says, more at ease now.

‘He will cherish this moment forever,’ she assures him, and Harry nods before placing a kiss softly on her lips.

‘Thanks, Gin.’

‘Anytime, Harry,’ she smiles. ‘Just don’t mention the Marauder’s Map, or he won’t ever stop pestering Teddy.’

Harry laughs.

She walks to kiss Lily good night and to turn off the light of Albus’ room (he always forgets it), making sure the blankets are covering them and they are finally resting. Then she goes back to James’ room, pausing at the door when she hears their laughs.

James laughs like Harry in his best moments — carefree, at ease, no weight on his shoulders.

She peeks inside. Only James’ head is visible as he tries the Invisibility Cloak, looking at himself in the mirror, while Harry beams at his son. Then James sits in the bed, still wearing the cloak as if he doesn’t ever want to lift it off, listening attentively to Harry.

'It's a powerful item, James, and yet as any magical thing it's only powerful as its owner. Be smart. Remember that others can still hear you, and don't forget to avoid people as you walk with it.'

'Isn't it obvious?'

'People forget more than you'd think', laughs Harry, and Ginny has a sudden memory of the time Hermione caught them… busy. 'Promise me you will share the Cloak with your brother and sister in the future. It belongs to you three.'

'Yeah, yeah', agrees James, and even though he doesn't look concerned, Ginny knows he will do as promised in the future. He may complain, but he always does everything for his siblings.

‘And, please, James, no trips to Hogsmeade or to the Forbidden Forest until you learn how to really defend yourself.’

James grins, nodding, and Harry hugs him — looking weirdly hugging the emptiness where his son's body is still invisible.

Watching them, Ginny thinks she was partially right. It’s not only James that will appreciate this moment. And though she told Harry they could only guess, she knows James’ namesake would enjoy it too.

#T: fanfiction #Hinny fanfiction #Mah writes TNG sort of #Harry and Ginny #Potter Family #james sirius potter #Someday I'll manage not to mention James Potter in something I write

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guardianofrivendell · 4 years

Text

Dwarves Always Knock Thrice

Requested: Yes and no. @estethell challenged me to write a modern AU with Fíli and Kíli knocking at the reader’s door instead of Bilbo’s by mistake. I interpreted it as a ‘what if Fíli and Kíli end up in modern day Europe?’

Warnings: none so far, I wrote this with a fem!reader (sorry! I try to write more gender neutral in the future, I promise)

Summary: What if one day your favorite fictional characters knock on your door? A modern AU with a twist! (any similarities to what I would do in this case are purely coincidental 😏)

A/N: Yes, yes, I know. There are hundreds of fics like this one. But none of them were written by me and my weird sense of humor 😆 Depending on the response I’ll turn this into a multichapter fic, if not this will stay a standalone oneshot.

Humming a rather cheerful tune, you pressed the button on top of the coffee machine and your morning fuel started dripping into your favorite cup. You waited patiently until the foam reached the edge and then you turned the machine off. With the cup held between your hands, you inhaled deeply. Nothing like the smell of fresh coffee for a perfect start of the day.

A few minutes ago your boyfriend had left to go to work, only to see him again by the end of next week. He was going on a citytrip with your group of friends for a few days, which had been planned ages ago. You were supposed to go with them, but unfortunately, you didn’t have any vacation days left. No, it was back to work for you instead.

Not that you minded. You loved your job, and you were lucky enough to be able to work from home when you wanted to. It didn’t actually feel like work that way. At least you had decent coffee, you didn’t have to dress up and you could take a break whenever you wanted. And now with your boyfriend gone for the week, you had no interruptions and lots of quiet evenings to look forward to. Cheers to that, you thought while you sipped at your coffee.

The dinner table became your makeshift workplace, coffee within reach. There were no video meetings scheduled today so you were wearing your favorite pair of black leggings and a long oversized knitted sweater, with fluffy socks on your feet to complete your comfy outfit.

You moved your computer mouse and your laptop sprung to life. James, your Sphynx cat, hopped on the table and pushed his head in your hand, demanding cuddles.

“Another day at the office, how dreadful,” you smiled, petting him behind his ear. James purred and started to bathe himself.

He was a Sphynx cat, so there was no fur. Nothing but flawless pink skin, soft to the touch. It almost felt like petting a warm peach. You chuckled at the comparison, and James stopped his grooming to look at you.

“Oh, I’m sorry your Majesty. I’ll let you to it.”

You booped his nose and got to work.

After a day of sifting through emails, processing data and editing documents and spreadsheets, you felt utterly exhausted. A phrase your boyfriend likes to throw at you on these moments suddenly came to mind, ‘How can you be so tired when you’ve done nothing but sit down on your ass all day?’ Always the charmer.

You stood up, raised your arms above your head and stretched, groaning in the process. You froze when your stretch session was interrupted by three knocks on your front door.

“Who still knocks these days?”

It was almost 6 pm, slowly turning dark outside and you’d let the shutters down about an hour ago. It was something you did as soon as the sun was setting. It was silly really, but it made you feel safe.

But now it prevented you from seeing who was at your door.

The neighbours from down the street wouldn’t come by for a visit, they were the kind of people that liked to keep to themselves. Your parents would call first, so… a polite burglar perhaps?

You couldn’t be too careful these days, especially now, when you were alone, so you went to your intercom first to see who was at the door.

The camera didn’t show anyone. You could see a part of your front yard, but that was it. Strange… You thought you could hear voices, so maybe there was someone at the door after all. Maybe someone had driven their car into the ditch. Wouldn’t be the first time. You lived in the countryside, with roads where only one car at a time could pass, with ditches on both sides. A challenge for city people, and the occasional daredevil usually had to be towed out of said ditch.

What’s life without a little risk, you thought, and made your way to the front door. You weren’t the one to turn away from people in need. It would probably get yourself killed one day, you were too kind and gullible and people tended to take advantage of that.

Another three knocks sounded, a little louder this time and you swung the door open.

“Finally!”

Your boyfriend rushed inside and shot up the stairs. When you looked to your driveway, you saw his car with the lights on, the motor still running. He was running late again. As usual.

After a few minutes he thundered down the stairs, his hiking boots in hand.

“Almost forgot these,” he said while lifting them. He kissed your cheek and ran off. You sighed. “See you next week, sweet. I’ll miss you.”

Sarcasm was your way to cope, to learn how to deal with the lack of love and care. Because who were you kidding? He wouldn't miss you.

You shuffled to your kitchen, in need of something hot. To drink, that is. And while the coffee machine filled your cup for the second time that day, you rubbed your face with your hands trying to think of how you had ended up in this situation in the first place…

“Just try and enjoy a week by yourself,” you whispered.

You were about to take a first sip when three knocks sounded for the third time.

“Seriously?”

When you opened the door, you couldn’t stop the massive eyeroll when you saw it was your boyfriend again.

“Hand me the reservation papers of the hotel, will you? I forgot them and I need the address for the gps,” he said.

“I sent it in an email to Tom, and I put the address in the gps system yesterday. Now go, you’re late enough as it is. Call me when you get there okay?”

He smiled and kissed your cheek again.

“Bye! Enjoy your week by yourself!” “I will, don’t worry,” you smiled.

Before you closed the door there was a bright white flash. You covered your ears on instinct, something you always did when there was a thunderstorm.

“That was very closeby,” your boyfriend gasped. “They didn’t say anything about a thunderstorm tonight.” “I’m not sure that was lightning… there was no thunder?” “It’s probably nothing to worry about.”

And with those words your boyfriend left for the second time that night.

After closing the front door with a small heart, you tried to calm yourself. You were terrified of thunderstorms, and you really didn’t feel like going through one when you were on your own. Let’s just hope he was right and it was nothing, you thought.

Your coffee…! Taking a sip from the now lukewarm drink, you pondered if you would make it into an Irish or Italian one. Heaven knows you deserved it, right? With your coffee still in hand you made your way over to the liquor cabinet, only to be interrupted by yet another pair of knocks on the front door.

“I’m going to kill him,” you murmured while you walked into the hallway. “What could he have possibly forgotten this time?”

You swung the door open with a little too much force, but you couldn’t care less by that time. The small amount of patience you had left was already out of the window and you just wanted to enjoy your spiked coffee.

“What did you forg-?!”

Your voice got caught in your throat when your eyes fell on your visitors. Visitors. As in plural. Definitely not your boyfriend. You recognized them immediately, there was no doubt who they were but… it couldn’t be! This was simply impossible!

In your shock you forgot you were holding your cup of coffee and it slipped out of your hand. The cup completely shattered on the floor but you hardly noticed.

Because right in front of you, in the light of your porch light at your very own doorstep, stood Fíli and Kíli.

As in Fíli and Kíli, nephews to Thorin, King under the Mountain. As in Fíli and Kíli, characters from The Hobbit. Fictional characters. With a heavy emphasis on ‘fictional’. Made up by Tolkien.

So how the hell was it possible that they were standing in front of you, alive and well?

The two Durin brothers were a bit taken aback so it seemed, because they too remained silent at first. After a few awkward seconds Kíli was the one who decided to speak up instead of his older brother. He was clutching his sword and quiver, just like he did in the movie.

“Kíli,” he began. He was side eyeing his brother who was still staring at you, and smacked Fíli’s chest when he didn’t respond. “What?” “Kíli,” Kíli repeated, pointing at himself and then at his brother who finally caught on. “And Fíli.” “At your service,” they both continued, bowing deeply.

“Y/N, at yours,” you responded without a second thought. Kíli’s face split into a wide smile.

“We’re looking for master Boggins!” “Yeah, I kind of expected you to say that,” you murmured, but they heard you. “Oh, so you’re a seer?” Kíli assumed excitedly. “No! No, I’m just… me. But there is no mister Baggins here,” you said, correcting Kíli. “Are we at the wrong house?” Fíli wondered. “I’m afraid so.” “Well… can you help us find him?” Kíli looked at you expectantly.

You sighed. “I would but, I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than that.”

Both of their faces fell. They were so in character, if someone was pranking you, they did one hell of a job in finding these two actors. And their costumes were spot on, from the carvings on Kíli’s bow to the colour of Fíli’s fur coat. It was scaringly accurate… They looked so much like Dean and Aidan’s version, but not quite. You didn’t know why exactly, but you had the feeling they were real. They were Fíli and Kíli, sons of Dís.

Fíli stared at you with a confused expression. “What do you mean, my lady?”

Oh. Now, if you weren’t already a little enamored by their looks, the title he just gave you would have. You weren’t exactly used to endearments.

Not that Fíli had meant as an endearment but you wouldn’t mind if they called you my lady for the rest of your life. It just made you grow a couple of inches.

“I’m probably going to regret this, but… come in.” You stepped aside so they could enter the hallway.

The heavy boots they were wearing made scratching sounds on your tile floor and your mind immediately went to your delicate wooden floors in the rest of your house.

You were going to sound extremely bossy and uptight but you had to think of your interior.

“Could you both maybe take off your boots?”

The two brothers looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

“If you want?” Fíli asked you.

“Please.”

You took the swords and quiver from Kíli so he had his hands free and placed them in a corner of your hallway. Fíli followed your example and added his own weapons to the pile.

“I trust you not to attack us when we’re unarmed,” he winked at you.

You smiled back at him, knowing all too well he still had some smaller knives hidden somewhere. For a moment the thought of reenacting the knife scene in Mirkwood crossed your mind, but you thought better of it. He wouldn’t find it as funny as you thought it was and you’d probably lose a finger or two if you tried to take a knife from him. It was best not to challenge him. Yet.

Once their boots were placed neatly next to their weapons, you motioned them to follow you into your living room. Your eyes drifted to the shards of your coffee mug and the spilled coffee, you needed to clean it up but it simply had to wait.

“I don’t really know how to begin explaining all this,” you said, while waving your arms around you, “but it might be a good idea if we sit down?”

You gestured towards the sitting area and both brothers took a seat on your couch.

It seemed like they didn’t know where to look first. Their eyes wandered to your tv, surround system, laptop, aquarium, …

Kíli whispered something in Fíli’s ear, to which the older brother shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you want to drink anything?” you suggested. “I have water, milk, beer, …”

Their eyes lit up when you mentioned the beer, so you nodded your head.

“Beer it is, although I need to warn you. It’s Belgian beer, so it’s probably a lot stronger than what you guys are used to.”

You mentally facepalmed at your last sentence, why did you even mention that? They didn’t realize they were in a different universe, so mentioning your country would give them zero information.

“I think we can handle it just fine,” Kíli commented with a smirk. Fíli nodded in agreement. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

After another look at the dwarves on your couch, you disappeared into your kitchen. You fetched two beer glasses out of the dishwasher and two bottles of beer from your fridge, before you noticed how much your hands were shaking.

Okay, Y/N, you need to calm down first… Easy to say when you have two dwarves sitting in your living room. Dwarves! And your favorite dwarves too. How many times had you imagined this exact moment in your fantasies? In your dreams?

Of course! That was it…! You probably fell asleep at your laptop and you were dreaming. But then why did it feel so real?

Maybe someone was pranking you after all? Nah, that wasn’t likely. Nobody knew you were even in the Tolkien fandom. Let alone who your favorite characters were.

So it must be a dream... But if you were dreaming, they definitely would have been an exact copy of the movie Fíli and Kíli. As in, Dean and Aidan in costumes. The ones sitting on your couch looked slightly different, still handsome - Mahal, did they look handsome - but you would probably refer to them as discount Dean and Aidan.

Your small mental breakdown was interrupted when Kili started to scream.

“What is that?!”

Quickly snatching the bottles and glasses in both of your hands, you hurried back to the Durin princes.

When you entered your living room, you were met with quite the hilarious view. Tolkien had described Fíli and Kíli as fearless and courageous, but there was nothing courageous about their behaviour right now.Fíli was sitting with his legs pulled up and Kili half on Fili’s back, pointing at James who was trying to jump on Fili’s lap.

“That’s James, my cat.”

“That’s a cat?!” Kíli yelled. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing!” you laughed, placing the glasses and bottles on the coffee table. “He’s a sphynx cat, he’s supposed to look like that. They don’t have fur.”

You called James and he immediately ran to you, so you could pick him up. He rubbed his head against your chin and started purring, happy to get some attention.

You crouched down before the two princes.

“Go ahead, pet him. You don’t have to be scared.” “We’re not scared,” Kíli protested, puffing out his chest. You smirked and rolled your eyes. “Of course not.”

They were wary at first, but eventually both brothers were petting James. Before you could stop him, James jumped out of your arms on Fíli’s lap and curled up against the fur of his coat.

Fíli froze and tried his best not to let it show that he wasn’t comfortable with this at all. Next to him, Kíli had the hardest time keeping a straight face, biting his lip in an attempt to stifle his chuckles but his shoulders were already shaking with laughter.

You poured their beer and placed it in front of them.

“Like I said, it’s pretty strong so small sips. Do you want me to take James away?” Fíli shook his head. “I-it’s fine!”

You took a seat on your other couch and anxiously started to rub your thighs.

“So… like I said, I don’t really know how to explain this but I think I know what happened to you.” “Wait… did something happen to us? I don’t understand?” Kíli asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

Oh, right. They didn’t realise they were in a different universe right now. Maybe you should take a different approach.

“Can you tell me what happened before you knocked on my door?”

Kíli took the two glasses and gave one to his brother before he took a gulp, humming appreciatively.

“I like this,” he said. “And to answer your question, we traveled to the Shire and knocked on the door with the mark. And here we are!” “But… my door doesn’t have a mark?”

It was Fíli’s turn to roll his eyes. “Kee, you’re not telling the whole story. But you’re right about this,” he smiled while raising his glass, taking another sip. “This is good stuff.”

You chuckled when you saw some foam sticking to his mustache. He raised an eyebrow at you. “What’s so funny?”

“I have enough beer in the fridge, you don’t have to save some for later,” you laughed, pointing at your own lip to get the message across.

Fíli quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. The movement made James shift in his lap and the Dwarf went rigid again. You decided not to say anything about it, you figured maybe Fili didn’t like cats that much. Or just James.

“So what did Kíli leave out?” “Your door wasn’t the first one we knocked on. There was a round, green door in the Shire. And that one had the mark of Gandalf. He’s a wizard.”

You nodded. So far it went exactly like it should. Shire, green door, mark.

“But when we knocked on it, we found ourselves in a field all of a sudden. And your house was the only one around so we figured that was where we were supposed to be. Since Gandalf is a wizard, you never know what to expect.”

Okay, that was different. It almost sounded as if they went through a portal of some sort. Like a portkey? They touched the portkey and traveled to a different universe? But portkeys weren’t part of Middle Earth, that was Harry Potter. Did they have something similar?

“You’re not in Middle Earth anymore,” you said softly.

Both brothers stared at you with wide eyes, their beer long forgotten. Kíli looked at his older brother, and pulled at his sleeve.

“What does she mean by that?”

Fíli kept his eyes fixed on your face, searching your features to see if you were lying. If you were trying to prank them.

“It means that you traveled between different worlds. In my world, where you’re in right now, Middle Earth is fictional. A story. It doesn't exist. Just like my world doesn’t exist where you’re from.” “I don’t believe you,” Kíli said with a frown.

You had expected this. It’s not like you would’ve believed them if you were in their place.

“Look around,” you tried to explain, “you can see things you recognize. The furniture, me being a human, … But you can also see things that you don’t understand. They are from this world.”

“You said Middle Earth was a story to you?” Fíli asked you. “Yes. There are tales about Middle Earth, and Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, the race of Men, … Orcs, wargs, goblins,” you explained, careful not to mention anything about their storyline or the one with the One Ring. “But I’ve never thought it could be real.”

They stayed silent for a few moments, letting it all sink in.

“How… How do we get back to Middle Earth?” Fili wondered. “I’m sorry, I really don’t know. But I’m going to help you find your way back. We’ll figure something out.”

You played with your fingers, a telltale sign you were nervous.

“And in the meantime you can stay here... With me.”

A/N: There you go... This is the setup for a possible new multichapter fic if people are interested in it. Just think of the two brothers in a modern day kitchen and bathroom, how the reader tries to cope with her fictional crush in her home and... how will they get back to Middle Earth? Would you be interested to read that? Let me know! And of course let me know what you thought of this story :)

A/N part 2: Sometimes tumblr switches paragraphs for no reason at all, if you notice this happened, send me a message! I’ll try and keep an eye on it myself, but some help is always appreciated.

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje @kata1803 @artsywaterlily @entishramblings @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose @marvelschriss @kumqu4t @myrin1234 @dark-angel-is-back @the-fandoms-georgie @lathalea @xxbyimm @sokkasdarling @katethewriter @aredhel-of-gondolin @leethology @thepeanutcollective @elvish-sky

Kíli taglist: @elles-writing @sxperncturalimpala67

#fili x reader #kili x reader #fili and kili #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #hobbit character in modern world #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit oneshot #fili #kili #durin princes

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americasmarauders · 3 years

Text

in your eyes - Bucky Barnes

author’s note: so remember when I said I wouldn’t write Bucky anymore, only that one time? yeah, so I said, you know, like a liar. I saw the first episode of falcon and the winter soldier and that was all it took for me to fall into the ‘bucky barnes simp’ hole all over again. I made an entire one shot based on a single piece of a dialogue from the first episode. the story starts right before the first episode and ends right after the last. I spend an entire month and a half working on this please give it some love.(pls reblog i beg of you) Huge thanks to @batarella and @glorified-red for beta-ing this. ily <3 hwo knows, if people love it enough I might give a part 2.

summary: her quiet job in the library got louder when Bucky walked into her life. (Bucky Barnes x telepath!librarian!reader)

WARNINGS: i do write a bit about addiction in this, if it makes you uncomfortable, please do not interact. it’s not heavy, or graphic, but the reader does experience abstinence. be warned. no spoilers for tfatws, but i do reccomend you watching it.

words: 11,416

mastelist

It was all so loud usually. When she first discovered her ability, it was like there were suddenly a thousand voices yelling inside her head all at once. She remembered falling to her knees, clutching her ears and crying out as the voices shouted different things at her.

Then the Professor came, promised her to help control her own mind. She didn’t want to trust the guy, even if he said he had the same power as her--even if he said everything would be alright. But the headaches were getting worse, the voices were getting louder and louder. She took him up on it and left her home to live in his boarding school.

She met interesting people and--at the end of her stay--she achieved what she was there for. It took 4 years of her life, constant nightmares from reading too much of her colleagues' minds, and several isolated afternoons - more than she wanted to admit. Nevertheless, she could finally go to a concert or have a normal college class without crying from pain.

She lived a normal life after her time at the Institute. She mostly ignored how her teenage years were far from the ordinary, or how sometimes she could hear a random thought from the person sitting next to her if the thought was loud enough. There were days when everything got too much, days where she lost control. She would stay in her house with noise cancelling headphones on (even if it didn’t work like that, it somehow helped) just going on throughout her day as quietly as possible. Tom knew she would get sick, even if working at the library rarely made her go into her lockdown modes.

The library calmed her in a way. The thoughts were rarely disordered and loud, more focused and quiet. It fascinated her that even in their thoughts, people respected the quiet environment the library required. But sometimes, someone would appear with a troubled mind, something books couldn’t even soothe.

There was a regular now, he was one of those people whose thoughts were always all over the place; she couldn’t pick them apart, words would fly through her head - words she often associated with the book he was reading. She wouldn’t know, it was Nancy that talked to him most times.

He always sat at the same old, worn out armchair, talking with the older people in the library as if they were the only people he was comfortable with. Sometimes, she would be restocking the books and see him looking at old newspapers. She never got the courage to talk to him. She figured her curiosity wasn’t enough to muster up the bravery needed to utter a word to him.

Tom was on leave that day. He was stalling his doctor’s appointment, telling her his back pain wasn’t that serious, but she knew better. Every so often she would hear a whisper of pain in her head and she knew her boss wasn’t alright. It had taken her months, but she finally convinced Tom to go and get his back looked at.

So she was working the counter that day: checking books off, admitting them, and then separating them so she could reshelve the books the next day. It was pretty boring work, repetitive, and she wondered how Tom kept busy all day when she finished all of her chores in a couple of hours.

“Excuse me,” she heard, standing up as a reflex. Her eyes trailed up to the person standing in front of the main desk. It was the Loud Man (that was what she had taken to calling him). “I want to check this off.”

“Yeah,” she said, breathless. She was hearing too much from him, too many random words. It made her feel dizzy. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

She took the book from his hands, her fingers brushing slightly at his leather gloves, her thoughts suddenly got even more flooded at the slight touch. She could feel a rising nervousness in him, so much it blended with her own nerves. She quickly retrieved her hand, hoping she hadn’t seemed impolite.

She sat back at her chair, looking at the book. “The Hobbit, huh?”

“I’m re-reading it,” he said, his eyes sincere, “I read it when it first came out.”

She looked at him funnily. “You read it in 1937?”

His expression froze, the slight smile morphing into a frown, his loud thoughts got louder with a single word: ‘lie’. “That’s a funny joke.”

She smiled at him, not taking his comment too seriously. “I’m a funny gal.”

He laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was like he was only checking off a box of social convention. It quickly faded to an impatient expression, and she could tell he wanted to get out of the situation as quickly as possible.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he mentioned.

“Oh,” she muttered, “I’m usually reshelving things, Tom operates the front desk but he went to the doctor. I’m the only other person who works here, so,” she trailed off, “I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky,” he responded, his face slightly tensed. His eyes hovered over everything in the library, as if he was trying to find something wrong in it.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky," she handed the book back to him. "It's due next week. Don't be late with it.”

“I'll return it tomorrow,” the words slipped from his mouth.

“Fast reader?” she asked.

“Got nothing else to do,” he shrugged, the word ‘lie’ once again swimming in her head in the mess of thoughts she received from him.

He gave her one last smile and disappeared into the library. His thoughts got distant, but they lingered in her head. Flashes of pain, bright white lights, and screams littered her mind. She shook her head trying to get rid of them. It rarely worked, not with thoughts so persistent.

Her head started to pound as the thoughts got more intense somehow. That never happened before, usually she could only hear people that stood near her and she was sure Bucky walked all the way to the back - he wasn’t close to her in any way.

Her hand shook as she fished out her headphones. She put them on and connected them with her phone. Playing her music was a hopeful distraction, detering her brain enough to quiet down everything. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, just like the Professor had taught her. He used to say a quiet and strong mind was the key to ward off stray thoughts.

It helped clear the thoughts, the mess of words only leaving whispers of broken thoughts in the way. She grabbed those and put them away, shoving them inside a mental box of lost thoughts. She did that with all the others, it helped keep her mind organized.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes. She always took too much time clearing her mind, she would forget the outside world. Peter used to poke fun at her for that, drawing penises on her face. When she came to her senses she would always run after him, ready to tackle him to the ground. It was always useless: you can't outrun Peter.

She noticed Bucky leaning on the frame of the front door. It was getting darker outside, an orange hue illuminating his eyes perfectly. Her breath hitched for a second before recomposing herself.

“Good nap?” he asked, the smallest smirk on his lips.

“I wasn’t napping,” she smiled, shaking her head. She checked the clock and saw it was way past closing time. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he had gone out of his way to stay with her when he should have gone home. “Why’d you stay?”

“Everyone left,” he said, “and I thought it wasn’t safe to leave you in a trance alone in an empty library.”

“I wasn’t in a trance,” she took her headphones off, resting them around her neck, “I was… clearing my head.”

He looked at her funnily, “Busy day?”

“It’s been weirder than usual,” she responded, smiling. She sat back down and logged off the system.

“How weird is working in a library?”

She scoffed, lighty. “You have no idea,” she smiled mischievously.

She picked up her things, keys in her hand. She left the front desk, going to Bucky’s side. “Thanks for staying,” she said, “You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem,” his hand brushed the back of his neck with a timid smile, very unlike his general physique and stance, “I had nowhere else to go.”

She could feel his thoughts bubbling underneath her skin, wanting to come out and flood her brain with confusing images and words. Whispers of faint words echoed through her mind, soft enough that she couldn’t distinguish what they were.

“I find that hard to believe,” she said, words slipping out of her mouth faster than she could stop it. Old habits she supposed. She could always keep thoughts of other people to herself, it didn’t seem fair to them she could hear their thoughts, the least she could do was keep them to herself. But when it came to her own, they just came out of her mouth before her conscience could stop her. “I mean,” she started, “a guy like yourself - good looking and all - must get a lot of people just, um, throwing themselves at you.”

He breathed out, an awkward expression on his face. She could hear one word clearly: ‘lie’. “I don’t date a lot,” he stated, “Not really my thing.”

She changed her approach to the conversation, sensing the uncomfortable energy he oozed. “Oh,” she muttered, “It’s okay, I mean, I don’t date a lot either. I barely leave my flat actually,” she brushed a single piece of hair out of her face, “I hate crowded spaces, and I have just the weirdest habits. You know, not a lot of people are into women who work at a library and barely make minimum wage,” she mumbled, her hands in her pockets restraining her hands for gesturing too much just like she always did, “I have a lot of issues too, at least that’s what the Professor used to say to my therapist before each session, which is fair and--oh God, I’m sorry, I just rambled.”

He chuckled (an actual chuckle), a full light-hearted laugh, one that rumbled throughout his chest. “It’s fine,” he said, “I like listening to you talk.”

She heard the words ‘like’ and ‘quiet’ shoot through her mind. She smiled at him shyly, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she laughed awkwardly, “Thank you again, for waiting and being, I don’t know, just nice, I guess.”

He smiled, a slightly bigger smile then he had given her the entire time they’d interacted. “Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, “No problem.”

Both of them walked out the door. She turned and locked it, then pushed a button that activated the security systems of the building. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said whilst shrugging.

“Yeah, yeah,” he went down a few steps of the main staircase. “I’ll see, uh, see you tomorrow.”

She saw him go down the steps, listening to the faint echoes of his thoughts in her head. She felt the tips of her mouth curl up, watching him go as the sun set on the horizon. She hadn’t felt that before, that sense of mystery, of wonder and curiosity. His mind was in shambles, broken pieces of it laying in every corner of his brain, and she heard all of it. It compelled her, even if it felt completely wrong to be so enthralled by someone’s mind.

She felt inadequate for liking his mind when he didn’t even know she could listen to it. It wasn’t the first time she felt that way. She remembered a boy from the shop near the Institute, she loved hearing his thoughts. She rarely left the Institute, but when she did she would always sneak to the store to buy a popsicle as an excuse to admire him. Sometimes he would smile at her and her brain would malfunction for just a second, his thoughts flooding her and overwhelming her every time that happened.

She anticipated it was only a matter of time before that happened with Bucky again. She didn’t exactly know if that was a good thing, if she should indulge in the latent curiosity and table herself further with his mind - with him.

The sun set in the horizon, the orange glow fading to the blue of the night sky. Walking down the streets, she could still hear remnants of his thoughts inside her head, his imprint already set on her. She wondered how long it would take for it to fade, if it would fade and if she wanted it to. #

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was.

Tom’s doctor ordered maximum rest. Apparently, the problem in his back was more serious than both of them anticipated. The doctor ordered as much rest as Tom could have, meaning more breaks and leaving early. That also meant she had to do double the work - she wouldn’t mind at all had she not left a pile of returned books to shelve.

She put her headphones and drove the cart full of books through the library all afternoon. Usually not a lot of people came in on a Monday afternoon to check out books, most were local teens that were there to study or make out. She always pretended not to know which ones were there to actually study or not; the thoughts always flew out to her when they were there to snog, most times it was hard to contain the shit-eating grin that would want to rise.

She felt someone touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled at the touch. Turning around, she saw Bucky, his thoughts overwhelming her. She rested the headphones around her neck, pulling out her phone to pause the music. “Hey, Bucky,” she breathed out, trying to contain the images and words in her head, “What are you, um, how you doing?”

“I’m good,” he smiled at her, looking down at the ground, “Um, Tom’s not at the front desk and I gotta return the book.”

“Oh yeah,” she took the book from his hand. It was still warm from his touch, “I thought you wouldn’t come today, to be honest.”

“I said I was,” he looked at her intensely, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Well,” she smiled awkwardly and averted her eyes to the ground, “People sometimes say things they don’t mean.”

She didn’t realise what she said until it was out of her mouth. She remembered how he was uncomfortable around her, and how he would think about lies just as he told her something. Embarrassment flooded her senses, she felt heat rising to her cheeks.

He looked at her weirdly, as if he was analyzing her. The more he looked, the more she listened to his mind. Words of suspicion floated around, she swallowed dryly and nervously at the thoughts. Echoes of screams and a crushing sense of guilt came through, she wondered what had happened for him to think of that. She wondered if she was the one person that caused him to think like that.

“I’ll return it for you,” she said, motioning for the book, trying to get the attention off of her.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “D’you mind if I get another?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said, “I’ll wait for you - at the front desk, I mean,” backing away from him, she accidentally bumped into a bookshelf, “Not, um, not any other way.”

He stared at her and nodded slightly. She turned around and walked to the front desk, cringing at her inability to mutter coherent words to him without stumbling in the middle of a phrase. Something about him made her lose all of her composure, she didn’t know if it was the constant flood of thoughts and memories she listened to from his mind or just him making her nervous.

She sat down at the chair behind the front desk, and rubbed her face, as if it would rub the embarrassment out of her. Sighing, she returned the book for Bucky. Just as the day before, his thoughts lingered in her head, images that meant very little to her were calling out.

“Why’s Tom not here?” he asked. She looked up at him, his blue eyes piercing through her. It was the first time she noticed his eyes, and somehow, it made everything worse. Instead of whispers, she heard everything clearly. Fools said the eyes were the windows to the soul. She knew better: someone’s eyes told her what they were thinking, what they were feeling. And she could tell Bucky felt a lot.

“Um,” she looked back down to the book she just admitted back, moving it to the pile of books to reshelve. “He’s on leave, doctor’s orders.”

“Back pain was somethin’ serious then?” he responded, handing the new book to her.

“Yeah, I told him to get that checked out, turns out I was right,” she shrugged, getting the book, her eyes still fixated on the computer. She felt the leather of his gloves graze the tips of her fingers, and a searing pain shot through her head. She brought the book down to the table, closing her eyes hoping the pain would stop. “Brave New World? Revisiting the classics, huh?” she struggled to keep a whimper from emerging from her mouth.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She heard a whisper of concern run though his head, “Um, are you alright? You don’t look very well.”

She shook her head, faking a smile, pretending she wasn’t getting a thousand thoughts from everyone in the library- especially Bucky’s thoughts - blasted at maximum volume on the speakers of her mind. “Just a bit of a headache.”

“It looks serious,” she could hear the leather from his gloves squeaking as he rested his hands on top of the counter.

“I’ll be fine,” she gritted through her teeth. It had been years since she was last in a position like that, her head throbbing with thoughts that weren’t hers. “I have these all the time.”

She heard his thoughts of concern louder than the others. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She dismissed his question, not wanting to dwell on his concern longer. “Here,” she handed the book back to him, her other hand closed in a fist, “it’s due next week. Don’t be late with it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his tone slightly strained. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she shook her head, her eyes closed and teeth gritted, choosing not to question how he would return that book tomorrow. She fisted both of her hands, her fingernails sinking in the skin of her hands. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she whispered to herself.

She heard his footsteps moving away from her, she sighed in relief, hoping it would mean her mind was going to calm itself and the headache would fade. Instead, the footsteps grew closer to her once again and then the leather of his gloves was grazing the skin of her arm, helping her stand up and guiding her somewhere.

“Imma take you to the hospital, doll” Bucky stated, not leaving room for discussion.

“No,” she tried to shake off his hold, “My shift’s not over, I can’t leave.”

“You look terrible, and you’re clearly in a lot of pain,” he grabbed her arm again, “You need to go to a doctor.”

“Doctors won’t solve this,” she once again freed herself of his hold taking a step back from him. More of his thoughts flooded her mind, a mess of memories and guilt overwhelming her. “They never solve anything,” she breathed out, her voice breaking, “I just need to rest.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his tone temptive and careful.

“No doctors,” it was the first time she had looked in his eyes willingly. There was a sort of weird determination in her eyes, one that came with years of terrible experiences with doctors. Hundreds of appointments that left her more desperate than before, endless tests and thoughts heard that she didn’t have any fix, as if she was broken in the first place.

His jaw tightened and his intense eyes fell upon hers. Her throat dried up under his gaze, her head unbearably heavy with his thoughts and hers. “Fine,” he growled, his hands moving to the pockets of his jacket, “Fine.”

“I need to go back to work,” she backed away from him, slowly. “I--I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure why she was apologizing to him.

“It’s okay,” his jaw was still tight, his eyes were still intense lingering at her. She couldn’t even appreciate his gaze at her, and how if she was a normal person,--if she didn’t have that goddamn gene--she would have let her heart skip a beat and feel coy under his gaze. “It’s your choice.”

There was a stubbornness to his stance, something that told her he wouldn’t be backing down so easily. She couldn’t go to any doctor, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out. She didn’t want to go through the tests and the never-ending questions, whether it was out loud or not. There was only one person who could possibly help her, and she refused to go to him.

She backed away from him quickly, turning around and heading to the front desk once again. Her headphones found their way to her ears, and she started to blast her music at full volume, hoping, or rather praying, it would help ease her headache. She put her phone in her back pocket, grabbed the book she had just returned.

The cart wove between the shelves with ease under her direction. She could still feel Bucky’s presence within the library, it was like carrying an iron ball tied to her feet at all times. Unlike the day before, he was more troubled, he felt more things and more intensely. It was too much. She wondered what happened for him to be so restless.

The music hardly helped, it somehow made it worse. She couldn’t shake the tangled thoughts and think for herself, and the music disturbed even more. She dropped her headphones, frustrated. Her head pounded, desperation rose in her. She refused to call Professor, he would not help, he would only rub in her face that she shouldn’t have left. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed at the Institute, Y/N,’ she could imagine him saying if she closed her eyes.

“Are you better?” turning around, she saw Bucky, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were focused down, his shoulder slightly hunched. It looked like he was ashamed of asking her if she was alright, almost as if it was his fault that she was in pain. It was, but she didn’t hold it against him. She was certain it wasn’t his fault.

“Not really,” looking at him, she analyzed his expression. His jaw was tense, she could see his hands were fisted inside his pockets, “I just need to sleep.”

He nodded slightly. “You sure you don’t want anythin’?”

Her head tilted slightly and her mouth quirked up a little. She could tell he wanted to charm her, she heard the word bounce around her head faintly--the guilt was louder, though she could barely hear anything else--and she would lie if she said she didn’t like his attention. “I am” her hands entangled together, her knuckles tight, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Yeah, yeah” he breathed out, his hand brushing the side of his leg in a nervous habit. “I need to go,” he pointed back at the door, his face stony.

She sat cross legged on her bed, her eyes closed. There were candles around the room, the lighting dim and warm. The smell of incense was strong, it swallowed the entire room. It was necessary, she needed that to ground herself to the real world, and not lose herself in her mind.

Since calling Professor was not an option, she tried to take matters into her own hands. She was going to untangle the knot of thoughts Bucky had left in her head by herself. It could potentially be dangerous, if she wandered too far who knows what could happen. She had taken the necessary precautions, but she had only done that before under the careful and judgemental eye of the Professor. It was the first time she was doing it alone, it scared her to think what could go wrong.

She breathed in calmly and concentrated on the knot in front of her. Her head was a whole other world, it could be molded to her will, she felt safe in it. Now, it was a black empty space, the only thing filling it was herself and the pulsating mess of thoughts Bucky had gifted her.

Kneeling in front of it, she carefully picked apart superficial thoughts, setting them aside. They didn’t matter to what she was there to do, they were only random words and snippets of his day-to-day life that she was sure were not the ones causing him so much pain.

It didn’t take long for her to reach what pained him. It was surprising to see the amount of thoughts in front of her, usually it was much less. People tended to blow things out of proportion often, little things could cause a world of hurt to themselves. Bucky seemed to take a lot of pain, underestimating his grief. A typical mentality of someone who lacked the confidence, who didn’t trust themselves enough.

She picked a single memory and entered it.

The lighting was dim, a yellow glow swallowed her. The room was dirty and disgusting, the tiles that were once white tinted an yellowish gray. It looked like a room used for medical procedures, judging by the sheer amount of medical-like instruments littered around the desks. There were no calendars in sight, she had no way of knowing when the memory had happened.

There were at least 5 or 6 people in the room, all surrounding a metallic chair. She approached the scene, carefully. Standing beside the chair, she saw Bucky.

He couldn’t be much older than he was when she met him. His hair was slightly longer than it was currently, just brushing his forehead. He was shirtless, his skin glistening in the faint lighting of the room. His hand was tied to the chair. His temples bruised from something she hadn’t figured out yet. His chest moved violently, struggling to breathe properly. And his left shoulder? There was a red swollen scar there. She doubted the wound was fresh, more like reopened. Maybe they tried putting a prosthetic there and it failed. It was likely they hadn’t administered any painkillers in the procedure, and she felt anger boiling inside her at the thought.

“James Barnes, 3255...” he trailed off, muttering under his breath. His eyes were halfway closed, it looked like he barely could keep them opened.

“Попробуй снова,” try again, one of the doctors said.

Her eyes lingered on the doctor that had just spoken. He looked evil, and she felt in her bones he was. His smile was wicked as his eyes lingered on Bucky struggling to catch his breath tied to that chair. All of the doctors looked sadistic and malefic. She felt goosebumps flood her skin, disgusted by the situation.

The machine started whirling. An appendix lowered into Bucky’s left eye, another lowering to his right temple. Someone put a protection on his mouth, and she could see Bucky trying to free himself from his ties. Something told her, even in an altered state of mind he was already conditioned to know that noise and that feeling were bad news. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to hers just before everything started.

The screams - his screams - bounced on the walls and filled her soul in a terrifying way. Tears came to her eyes as she carefully studied what was happening to him. His hands formed fists, his knuckles totally pale on his flesh hand. His eyes were shut violently, his mouth open in a painful way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to hug him and take him out of that awful place, but she couldn't. It was all a memory, it already had happened and she couldn’t do anything about it.

The doctors recited words in russian repetitively. Her eyes traveled to the doctor holding a red notebook. The wicked smile never faltered, completely ignoring the man in pain in front of him. She felt a urge she had fought so hard to suppress: she wanted to invade their brains, pick them apart and tear them down from the inside. She wanted to scream and shout at them and destroy everything in the room with a single thought. The fact that she was inside a memory and couldn’t physically change anything bothered her little. The anger and sadness she felt were real.

The machine stopped humming and Bucky stopped screaming. When he opened his eyes, she saw something that utterly terrified her. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, very much unlike mere seconds before. They were wide open, focused forward, looking beyond the doctor that was hovering over him.

“Soldat?” one of the doctors asked, a wicked smile forming on his lips.

“Готовы соответствовать,” ready to comply.

The room became blurry and she was sucked out of the memory. She stood there in front of the knot of thoughts. A feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed her, and she willed herself out of her own mind. She shouldn’t have done that, not without his permission. He didn’t even know she could hear his thoughts, much less explore the memories he had left with her.

She gasped for air as she came back to her senses. Bucky was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and the guilt he carried around with him wasn’t blown out of proportion and unwarranted. He felt as if things he had done, whatever those things were, had been his responsibility. But she knew more about the mind than him, she knew that that person she had watched be tortured was not him. Those eyes told her nothing, and his eyes told her everything and more. Those eyes were from someone who was a puppet, stripped of free will and agency. So maybe his guilt was warranted, but it didn’t mean it was his fault.

She rubbed her face and laid in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Her heart raced inside her chest, the adrenaline of doing something so wrong settling on her. She would have to be honest with him. She let a shuddery breath, as she realized she was at the point she avoided when meeting people. The fear of rejection was crushing and familiar and with time she realized it was easier to push people away, not forming connections deeper than trivial than to explain what she was. But Bucky was different, she felt it in her bones. And she wasn’t willing to let him go. #

Tuesdays were fuller than Mondays, but only slightly. Maybe one or two more students came in, trying to get ahead of the curve and not procrastinate their studies more than necessary. The amount of work she had was enough to keep her busy throughout the day, even without Tom’s help.

She hummed the song in her headphones, weaving her way through the shelves, puting the few books that were returned that day back where they belonged. It was the part of her job that gave her the most pleasure. It gave her a sense of control and order, something that had lacked almost her entire life, especially while she was at the Institute. Professor had controlled everything back then. He controlled her and Peter and all the others to be something that most would not have chosen to be if given the choice. It made her feel helpless and tiny. But she had freed herself from that reality, much to Professor’s dislike. And now she could happily find her control in tiny things, like putting books back on their shelves.

“How come I always come when no one’s at the front desk?”, her headphones fell to her neck as she turned around to look at Bucky. He wore a shy smile on his face, clutching two books tightly in his gloved hands. His thoughts were quieter that day, but still present and loud. She doubted it was enough to give her a headache, but it was enough to leave a mark on her mind.

“Well, I’d say it’s just your luck,” the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Wanna check those out?” she pointed at the books in his hands.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She started walking towards the front desk, Bucky at her tail. “So, are you better?”

“Yep,” she nodded, getting behind the desk and taking the books out of his hands, “Told you I just needed to rest.”

“Doll,” his head tilted, his eyes carefully analyzing her. She heard worry bounce around his head, “you looked like you were about to drop dead.”

She shook her head, a smile creeping its way to her face. “It’s more common than you think, it’s fine, Bucky, really,” dismissing his worry, like it was the best way to earn his trust. “For whom the Bells tolls? Really diving into the classics, huh?”

“Need some comfort,” he shrugged. “It’s been 80 years since I read these, it felt like the time to re-read.”

“80 years,” she dragged, “You look a lot younger.”

His face became briefly stony, his brain going haywire for a second before he relaxed and gave her an awkward laugh. “You’re a lot funnier when you’re not in pain.”

“Aren’t we all?” she slid the book over to him. “It’s due next week, don’t b--”

“Be late with it, I know,” he completed, “I’ll return it tomorrow. Like always”

She heard words of charm and flattery from his mind. It was a timid voice saying it, if she had been distracted she wouldn’t have heard it. Her eyes trailed downwards, her smile tiny and shy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re lying.”

“How’d you know better?” his eyes narrowed at her and his head tilted to the side. She found it absolutely charming that he did that when he was confused.

“I read minds,” she said, seriously, her face impartial, very much unlike mere seconds before.

“That’s funny,” he laughed, pointing at her.

She opened an awkward smile at him, looking carefully at his expression. His mind told her he thought she was pranking him, being funny to charm him. She wasn’t. “I know you think I’m trying to charm you,” her eyes looking at her feet, her fingers entwined in a nervous habit, “but I’m not,” she finished, whispering.

She could hear confusion clearly in his thoughts. It wasn’t exactly at how she could read his mind, more to why she was telling him the fact. “I can hear your thoughts very clearly, they’re very loud,” she whispered. After all these years of experience with this power, it never got easier telling people about it. “And I didn’t think it was fair to listen to your thoughts - you think a lot you know? - all so loudly and clearly,” She couldn’t look at him, her eyes were still cast downwards in shame, “If you want to, I can explain how it is, we can go for a walk or whatever.”

She could feel his intense gaze on her skin, she didn’t dare to look up. Disappointment was one of the things she hated the most, one she had dealt with a lot. Seeing it in his face would surely break her heart, even if only a little bit. “Fine,” she heard him say it, airly, “But you’re paying.”

She looked up and his expression was impassive. But his eyes were twinkling with a sort of curiosity and wonder that could only mean good things. A weird sort of relief washed over her. She let out a sigh, her features relaxing. “Great,” she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “great,” she breathed out, “I just need to close this place.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Tell me what that boy’s thinking,” he said, pointing to a little boy by the pond feeding the ducks happily.

Her eyes trailed to the kid, trying to focus on him. It was an exercise she hadn’t done in a while, since she had left the Institute really. “He’s happy he’s with his dad,” she reported, “he doesn’t see his dad often and he misses him.”

“What about the dad?” his hands were in his pockets, his gaze locked on the dad sat on the bench just behind the kid.

“He’s guilty he doesn’t spend enough time with his son,” she added, her eyes following the posture of the man. His eyes were fixed on his son, watching his every move. It was clear he felt some sort of guilt towards his son, and it was easy to assume that by his stance alone--if you were observant enough. Bucky was, “He works two jobs to pay the child support. He can’t find time between them often.”

“How do I know that you didn’t just meet those people and they told you their life story?” Bucky questioned, his gaze intense and locked on her. They stopped beneath a tree, orange sun rays peeking from between the leaves.

“It’s the first time I've ever seen them,” she plopped down beneath the tree, crossing her legs childishly, “I barely leave my apartment.”

He stared at her, his gaze strong and judgmental. Huffing, he calmly got down and sat beside her, his legs spread out in front of him. He crossed his hands on his lap, and her gaze locked at his left hand. She wondered if the arm was still the same as the one she had seen in his memory. That arm sent chills down her spine, it was intimidating and terrifying, the red star staring at her menacingly. “Why, though?”

“I can’t, really,” she shrugged. She looked up, her head tilting to the side, considering her words. “I have these lockdowns when I’m surrounded by too many people. It hasn’t happened in years but,” her eyes closed, the memories of the last lockdown she had flooding back at her. She saw her younger self falling to her knees in the middle of the Institute’s lobby, screaming and clutching her ears, “but it happens, and I’d rather not go through that. I’m not in speaking terms with the person that can help me and I’ll do anything to not talk to him again.”

His lips formed a thin line. A hum trembled his chest, his head resting on the tree behind them. “How much have you seen from…” his jaw clenched, his voice quiet and hesitant.

“Not much,” she dragged. “I stopped after I realized that I, um, that I was…”she found she couldn’t complete the sentence under his strong gaze. “It wasn’t fair to you for me to see anything, not without you knowing.”

“What did you see?” he gritted through his teeth, his eyes watery and sad.

“I saw,” she gulped, her voice straining with emotion as she looked deep into his eyes, “I saw you, um, tied to a chair. You were so out of it,” she shook her head, tears flooding her eyes, “you were mumbling your name and some numbers. And then,” she sighed, picking up strength to continue, “and then they - they broke you.”

“What else?” he growled, his hands in fists. His eyes were no longer sad, there was a latent anger in them. It made her sad that she was the cause of his anger, or rather the target.

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “nothing else. Nothing other than random words from your day to day.”

He considered her for a moment, his eyes hovering her face frantically. She tried her best not to listen to his mind, trying to focus on elsewhere, on someone else. But he was like a magnet, and she could help but to be attracted to him and his thoughts. Words of confusion, anger and infatuation floated in his brain and echoed in hers. “Can you turn it off? Your...thing?” he pointed to her head almost in disdain. She knew better than to believe his gestures.

“Not exactly,” she hugged her legs, her chin resting on her knees. “If I could, I would have, a long time ago.”

They remained in silence after that. He looked at the clouds, considering everything she had just told him. She looked everywhere but at him, trying to stray her mind from him. It felt impossible, he became her gravity center, and she couldn’t really escape it. She found that she didn’t want to.

“How did you get the…” he tried to find the right words, “the mind reading thing?”

She laughed at his silly phrasing. “I was born with it,” she looked down at her hands, her cheeks feeling hot. “Professor picked me up and took me to the Institute after I turned 13 because of it.”

“That sounds like a cute way of saying you were kidnapped by the guy,” he commented, his tone serious and his eyes on her.

“I wasn’t,” she tilted her head towards him, as if she was telling him a secret. “I went willingly, actually. The nightmares were getting worse and the headaches,” her eyes locked with his for a brief second as she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “well, headaches like yesterday’s are light ones compared to those. And the Professor, he promised to help me control it.”

“That doesn't sound suspicious at all,” she could hear him roll his eyes in disdain.

“He did help me,” she assured him, “but at the time, I didn't realize that it would come with a cost.”

“I’m guessing he wanted something out of you,” he inferred, “that you weren’t willing to give.”

“Something like that,” she responded, her voice vague and distant. Remembering the things Professor had planned for her made her scared and, most of all, angry. Angry he dared to think she would be so desperate to abide by his wishes. She had learned that following his plans brought her nothing more than frustration and loneliness, he robbed her and her friends of a stable childhood so they could become his pawns. “He wasn’t a good person.”

“I get that,” he whispered, his head down, looking at his hands. He opened and closed his left hand repetitively. The anger he had felt once she had told him what she had done came back, but directed towards someone else.

“Listen, Bucky,” she turned her whole body towards him. Her hands itched to grab his, but she knew neither of them were prepared to cross that line, “I’m truly sorry that I… couldn’t control myself. I figured that if I could decipher your thoughts the headaches would stop, but I didn’t realize how much you kept hidden,” she confessed, her fingers fiddling with themselves in a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I want to give you a chance to tell me these things yourself, that’s why I told you.”

He looked at her for a moment before responding. “You told someone who you’d only known for a couple of days your biggest secret,” he recited, almost as if he had been rehearsing the line in his mind over and over, “because you felt bad.”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds foolish,” she grumbled. “I know what’s like not to be given a choice, and I wanted you to have the choice to, you know, walk away from me,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper. She struggled to keep her tears at bay, a couple of them spilling and running down her cheeks.

“Why would I walk away from you?” he asked her, sincerity in his eyes.

“You wouldn’t be the first person,” her eyes were cast forward, looking way beyond the park. She didn’t bother cleaning the tears that were rolling down her face. “And you wouldn’t be the last, certainly.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his voice low and beautiful, “I wouldn’t.”

She could barely hear his thoughts over her own. She couldn’t think straight anymore, too many emotions flooded her own senses, it was all too much. Her hands rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “But, seriously, don’t tell your biggest secret to someone you barely know.”

She laughed at his suggestion, her smile watery. “I won’t, don’t worry,” her head tilted to the side, her eyes carefully studying his face. It was the first time she truly took him in. His face was so wonderfully beautiful. His nose and his lips were perfect. But it was his eyes that would always fascinate her. So wonderfully blue and so beautifully deep. It was impossible to not fall in love with him with those eyes.

He got up and brushed his gloves on the sides of his pants. He offered her his right hand, “How’d you say we get that coffee now and you tell me the craziest things you’ve ever seen people think?”

She smiled sincerely at him, her eyes looking up at him in admiration. She took his hand and she let him guide her.

“Doll, you need to start staying at the front desk,” he leaned casually on the side of the bookcase, looking calmly at her as she turned around to face him. “What if someone important comes in and there’s no one there?

She felt amused at Bucky’s teasing and smiled. “Tom’s supposed to be there, he must have just left to do something,” she stated, smugly. “Besides, you’re the only important person that comes here. At least, to me you are,” she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

He bit his lip and looked at her in a way that made her melt. “Aren’t you a charmer.”

She could hear clearly in his thoughts he was amused by her behavior, the word ‘charm’ levitating around her brain. “I learned from the best,” she shrugged brushing past him and walking towards the front desk.

She heard his heavy footsteps behind her. “Are we still up for tonight?” his voice had an edge that wasn’t there before. She sat down on her chair behind the counter as her eyes carefully analyzed his face. His jaw was tense, his eyebrows were furrowed and his fingers were tight around the book he meant to return.

“I’ve been up for it every day for the past month, Bucky,” she narrowed her eyes at him. His jaw clenched even more in a way she didn’t know possible. She tried to ignore his thoughts and the words that bounced around her brain. “What are you trying to say?” she asked softly, taking the book from him gently.

He sighed, resting his elbows on the counter he leaned in. “Sam needs my help,” he said, his voice low and tired. She could tell he wasn’t telling her the full truth, but she didn’t push it.

“Oh,” she muttered, typing away to return the book he brought. “So you’re cancelling?”

“Doll, I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” he stated. She could tell he was sad, his eyes told her so, and so did the words in his head. It pained her to see him give up their time together. It was cherished by both, and she suspected it was maybe one of the only moments of the day Bucky didn’t have to hold everything in. Mostly because she could see everything he was hiding.

“Don’t,” she stopped him before he could further apologize. “I understand, an Avenger’s calling you,” she whispered, a devilish smile on her lips, “how could you not answer it?”

“I can think of a lot of ways,” he gritted. He had told her his qualms with Sam Wilson, but it only seemed like friendly teasing and nothing else. Nothing too serious, that's what she judged it to be.

“Bucky,” she warned him, “there are more important people than me, and Sam is definitely one of those. Don’t feel guilty, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Y/N,” he never used her first name. He would call her ‘doll’, or ‘love’ or even sometimes ‘sweetheart’, but never by her first name. Hearing it leave his lips sobered her up quickly, “there’s no one more important to me than you.”

Her mouth hung open in complete shock at his declaration. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, before recomposing herself. She opened her mouth to respond him but he quickly beat her to it.

“I’m truly sorry, love,” he shook his head, his eyes cast downwards.

Her eyes hovered him quietly for a second before slipping the book to him. “I extended the due date. Two weeks and nothing more,” she said, sternly. “You know the drill, Bucky.”

“Don’t be late with it, I know,” he recited. His eyes lingered on hers for longer than it normally would. It felt as if he was memorizing her, studying the little details of her face, the little quirks of her personality. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, like every time she was under his intense gaze. He looked downwards for a moment, his mouth slightly opened. “I won’t be gone too long, just a couple of days.”

She got up from her chair and walked to his side. She bit her lip as he watched her go around the front desk. He leaned on his arm, casually standing there as she looked down at her feet in front of him. “You have my number, I’m just a phone call away,” she muttered shyly. She couldn’t handle this flirty interactions with Bucky. Mostly because she would have to juggle her own thoughts with his. But there was something about his demeanor at that moment that put her at ease, she didn’t feel the need to juggle both of their thoughts, only to embrace them. She let herself feel the butterflies and be fully flustered under his charm. It felt nice. “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered.

“Yeah, me too,” he looked at her eyes, deeply and soulfully. She didn’t know how she hadn’t melted at the spot. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “I know,” her lips brushed his cheek. She quickly kissed it and looked back at him. “You should probably go. Don’t wanna keep Sam waitin’.”

He smiled at her one last time before leaving her. His smile, there was something different about that. It felt sincere and genuine, unlike all his other smiles that were usually caused by awkwardness and embarrassment. She had seen something completely different in that smile, something she couldn’t exactly place yet.

She arrived quietly at her apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries and flowers for her tiny garden out in the fire-escape. Her upstairs neighbor had complained about it for months, until he joined and now she shared it with him. She had plans to make the whole building to contribute to the little garden, she was almost convincing her downstairs neighbor and she was a pivotal person.

The apartment was too quiet, unlike normally. There were always whispers of her neighbor’s thoughts echoing through the walls, the busy sounds of the streets, the shouts outside from people going by their day.

“I know you’re here,” she shouted to her apartment, “you weren’t subtle about it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t talk to me, otherwise,” Professor rolled in. He hadn’t changed a single bit since the last time she had seen him. His clothes were the same, his bald head glistened the same way it did, and his chair was just as stoic as his face. She hated him and seeing him in her apartment only reminded her of that.

“That’s cause I don’t want to talk to you, Professor, I thought I had made myself clear,” she growled, resting the bag and the flowers on the kitchen counter. “Why are you here?”

“It has come to my knowledge you’ve been having your episodes,” he said, robotically.

“I’m not having any episodes, I'm fine” she muttered, her back turned to Professor. She cursed Peter mentally for being a fucking snitch. Next time she saw him she was going to give him a piece of her mind.

“You’re not,” he corrected her. As usual, she only heard him in a tone of superiority and condencense, he always knew best. “We know what happens when you let yourself go with other people’s thoughts, child.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gripped the counter, her teeth gritted and her eyes shut. Her hands felt clammy, almost slipping from the counter. She had escaped the Institute, she had sworn she would never go back, for fucking Peter to bring Professor to her again. She knew Peter did it because he was worried. It still didn’t make it sting less. “I said I’m fine, I have everything under control.”

“How long have you been taking the suppressing pills?” he asked her, his voice judgemental and cold.

She turned around to face him for the first time. He was impossible to read, he always made sure of that. As much as she begged him to teach her how to do it, to help her block out thoughts and stop people from getting into her head, he never really did it. She had to discover for herself, and, in that, she never was as effective as him. “It’s none of your business,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I’m of any use to you anymore, Professor. I’m sure you have a brand new shiny pawn you can play with that’s even better than I was. Besides,” she added, crossing her arms on her chest, “you gave me those pills.”

“They’re for emergencies only, Y/N, not continuous use,” he shook his head at her, his piercing through hers, She looked down avoiding his gaze, her jaw tight. Her head started to feel heavy, and she didn’t know if it was his prying or something worse. “Do you remember the last time you used those same pills continuously?”

Her teeth gritted and she closed her eyes to stop him from seeing the tears accumulating in them. She looked at him, her eyes completely angry and full of hurt, “I'm a lot stronger that I was back then,” she gritted.

“Bad things happen when you repress your power,” Professor warned, leaning on his knees. “You learned that the hard way.”

“I haven't taken them in days.” she stated, trying to keep her head focused and her voice free of emotion. Professor considered her for a moment. She could feel him prying in her head, searching for traces of a lie well told. She knew he wouldn’t find any, she told the truth, even if it was half of it.

“I know you’re not telling everything,” he told her, his hands fiddling with the orange vial temptevely. “What are you hiding?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. When she was younger, she wouldn’t even consider behaving badly around him. Now, she knew better. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Professor. I don’t even understand why are you here,” she pointed accusingly at him. “You've done a pretty good job showing you don’t care all my life, I find it hard to believe you care now.”

His eyes found hers, as always completely unreadable. But she saw the little details, the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way his fingers opened and closed the cap of the bottle nervously. It was hard to tell if the tick was fabricated or not, she could never tell with him. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be in touch,” he wheeled himself towards the door.

“Please don’t,” she said clearly as he exited her apartment.

As the door closed she let a shuddery breath, laying on her couch in exhaustion. She let a couple of tears fall from her eyes, quickly drying them after. She had cried because of Professor too many times in her life, she would not cry for him one more time.

Her phone vibrated on her back pocket. She sniffed and fished out, checking what was the cause of the notification. ‘Just arrived. Call me’ from Bucky. Her heart picked up, smiling at her phone happily.

It rang a couple of times before he picked up. “You’re late,” she said, before he had the chance to say anything to her, “you said a couple of days.”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he breathed out, “it took longer than anticipated.”

“It’s okay,” she shook her head, a smile on her face. “The book, though, you’re gonna have to pay a fee for being late.”

He laughed at the other end of the line. “First time I ever return it late, can’t you make an exception for me?”

“I didn’t do anything, it was Tom,” she stated quickly. Her lips adorned a permanent smile, so much it barely seemed Professor had just left her apartment. They stayed quiet before anyone said anything.

“I missed you,” he whispered, her heart racing in her chest as he recited the words.

“I missed you too,” she replied back, her voice soft and full of emotion. She tried to contain her tears, an accumulation of feelings from just before and that moment but she couldn’t. “I was so lonely, I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too, love,” he sighed on the other end of the line. She could imagine him looking down at his feet, a silly smile on his lips. His eyes were twinkling in her mind the way that melted her, he looked absolutely beautiful as usual. “Do you want to go out? I owe you 2 weeks worth of coffee.”

She looked at the ceiling, trying to contain her heart and failing miserably. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that,” she breathed out.

“I’ll pick you up in 20.”

She hung up the phone and got up from her couch, a silly smile on her face. Her smile soon faded after she realised what she had done. She was only off the pills for 2 days, it wasn’t enough time for her powers to normalize. Without Bucky present, the abstinence wasn’t as noticeable. Sure, she could hear everything more clearly, the music her neighbor had stucky in his head, or the busy thoughts of a random person passing on the sidewalk. But Bucky always had a thousand things in his head, and that surely would be a problem.

She was telling the truth to the Professor. She wasn’t taking them continuously, only a couple of times a week, when Bucky’s thoughts were always the loudest. But she hadn’t told him that she had stopped so late, later than she should have. She was toeing the line again, just like she had done when she was a kid and the prospect of not listening to everyone all the time seemed too good to be true.

A sigh escaped her lips, her heart racing inside her chest, not for the right reasons. She hoped she could control it, keep her latent power at bay just like she did everyday. It was easy to fool herself like that. She forgot how addicting Bucky could be, how wrapped up in him she would get. It was almost an experiment: how would she deal with Bucky’s mind when her power was at the most raw. She wondered if she should be curious or scared.

Her hands sweated as she unpacked her groceries. A cold rush ran through her spine, and she remembered the symptoms she experienced the last time she was off the pills. Dread settled in her, anticipating what was about to come. She cursed Professor, her stupid mutated gene and those fucking pills. She often wondered what would have happened if she never manifested any powers, how her life would have played out.

Then, her senses were flooded by Bucky. She whipped around to the door, seeing the shadow of his feet lingering outside. Her head felt heavy and there was a pain blooming, something much worse than the ones she’d endured when she first met him. It was a side effect, she should have expected that. She leaned on her table for a moment, trying to get used to the pain. The knock echoed through her apartment. She barely registered it, his thoughts flooding her. It was all so incoherent, flashes of yellowed memories and newer ones ran through her head. She heard her name screamed in his head over and over again, his voice whispering pet names he had given her with images of their time together.

She opened the door and there he was, standing in front of her. He wasn’t wearing his traditional gloves, and he had dodged the leather jacket of a simple longed sleeved t-shirt pulled at his elbows. It was the first time she saw his arm being displayed so freely, so unashamedly. He wore a boyish smile on his face, holding a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers meant for her. “I brought you flowers,” he handed the bouquet to her, his eyes twinkling with a charm she hadn’t seen in him before. “You said you wanted to expand your garden,” he justified with a shrug, his eyes on the bouquet. The smile never left his lips.

She almost forgot about her symptoms, letting his charm encapsulate her and warm her heart. She accepted the flowers, their smell overwhelming her. She stepped aside for him to come in, he ducked his head and got in the apartment quietly. It wasn’t the first time he had been over, but it was still odd to see him in her place. It looked smaller with him in it, less lonely.

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing the door. Her hands glued to the plastic wrapping of the flowers. She wiped her other hand on her pants, gulping nervously. If before she thought his thoughts were loud, in that moment it seemed like they were being blasted in amplifiers at maximum volume. “How’ve you been?” she stuttered, her mouth dry.

“I’m good, good,” he laughed looking down, his hands on his pockets. She could tell he wasn’t lying, for the first time she asked him that question he actually answered it honestly. “How are you, doll?”

She grabbed a pot and some dirt to stick the bouquet in it from the cabinet under the kitchen island. “I’m okay,” she replied quietly. Resting the supplies next to the sunflower she had just bought, a wave of nausea washed over her. She felt the color drain out of her face, feeling lightheaded. Her hands gripped tightly around the backrest of a chair, trying to not collapse to the floor.

She heard him rush to her side, his hands supporting her. The cool touch of his metal arm was contrastant with how hot her skin felt at the moment. “You don’t look okay,” it was like he was yelling in her ear, but she knew his voice was barely above a whisper. “What happened?”

“I’m off my pills,” she gripped his forearms, her eyes shut close. She tried organizing her head, separating her own thoughts with the thoughts of others.

“Let me get them for you,” he guided her to the couch, gently sitting her down.

“No,” she reached for him, her voice dying in her throat. Her hold on his wrist was weak, her eyes closed. The light only worsened her headache, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. “There’s none left.”

“What d’you mean there’s nothing left?” he asked her, his voice strained. She knew he tried to contain his worry, but it slipped out in his tone. If she wasn’t so sick, she would have appreciated his care. “It seems like something important to have.”

“Professor took ‘em,” her words slurred, “I can’t take more, Bucky.”

“Why?” he hesitated, “what happened?”

“My powers,” her jaw clenched at the sharp pain going through her head, “I just wanted to spend time with you, Bucky, but the pain…” the tears spilled from her eyes, her eyes still closed. The grip on Bucky was tight, she was holding onto him like he was her lifeline, the only thing grounding her to the real world and not her head.

He sat beside her, his hands hovering over her, unsure of what to do. She heard a sliver of guilt going through him, and sadness overwhelmed her because of that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.

“No,” she shook her head, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s my fault. You’re amazing, Bucky, and I couldn’t stay away,” her tears wet his shirt, her head resting on his shoulder snuggly. She couldn’t help but notice the safe feeling that overwhelmed her in that moment. It was almost like it was where she belonged, safe in his arms. “Your mind… it’s just so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Bucky. And I was greedy, I wanted you to myself, even if it meant a little pain.”

“A little?” he asked, his voice laced with a sassiness she hadn’t seen before.

She laughed quietly, looking at his face. His blue eyes were sincere, full of emotion and thoughts she could never bring herself to decipher. “A lot,” she sighed, her eyes fixated on his. “I fell back into old habits.”

“I get it,” he assented, his eyes cast on hers, looking for something she didn’t quite know what it was. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay,” she whispered, her heart beating fast inside her. “Please, stay.”

And Bucky did. For the first time, someone who had met her, all of her, stayed with her. That only made her love him more. He hugged her tightly, his head resting on the crook of her neck. “I’ll stay,” he reassured her, his thumb caressing her shoulder gently, “I got you”

She mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ like a prayer on his shoulder. It was too much input, her own emotions and his blended and her tears were their escape. “I shouldn’t have unloaded this on you,” she sniffed, breaking the hug. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey,” he gently pushed her hands out of her face. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red, but she could tell he didn’t care, she heard the word ‘beautiful’ bounce around in his head. “I can take it.”

She shook her head, words unable to escape her quivering lips. “Hey, stop,” he said firmly but lovingly, “listen to me,” he grabbed her face delicately, his fingers brushing her cheeks delicately. “I can take it, doll. Trust me. I have my demons too,” he whispered, “and they don’t scare you. You don’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. The sincerity in them disarmed her completely, the little restraint she had completely gone. Her breath hitched at the sight of the glimmer in his eyes and the love in his mind. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her voice gone.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled at her, the boyish grin he had sported when he arrived back. “How about I make you some tea?” he got up, walking a few steps to the kitchen. He moved around like her tiny little flat was where he belonged. “I make a mean chamomile tea.”

She laughed quietly, her brain slowly calming down, her fever settling. “I’d like that.”

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