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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

Fix You

Pairing: angsty!soft!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Words: 4173

Summary: Bucky has been working hard at getting over the trauma that came from being the Winter Soldier, and you do your best to help him through it. But a particularly painful memory almost breaks him.

Warnings: ANGST (I’m so sorry y’all), explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (F receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex), soft!broken!Bucky, fluffy ending, TW: this fic contains implications of animal cruelty in a character’s past. It is extremely vague and non-specific but I will put a warning in the text itself if you still would like to read but this particular type of thing upsets you. Please be mindful of it my soft babies!! SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: This is my entry to the Happy Hoelentine’s Day gift exchange hosted by the absolutely fabulous @chrissquares, @drabblewithfrannybarnes and @amythedvdhoarder. My giftee was @bucky-the-thigh-slayer happy v-day sweetie! 😘

Soo, apparently, I cannot just write a sprinkling of angst, I have to write cut your heart out of your chest and watch it beat in front of your face angst. This fic made me cry while writing it so if you are a big softie, you might want to skip this one. Don’t worry, I gave everyone a nice, fluffy, soft ending to soothe the pain!

Happy Hoelentine’s y’all! Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

dividers are made by the lovely @chrissquares

not my GIF

You weren’t sure what had initially roused you from sleep. Maybe it was the fact that you were used to Bucky’s frame being draped over you, smothering you with his body heat. Whatever had woken you at first, the sound of shattering glass snapped you from your dazed state immediately.

You flew out of the bed and ran towards the bathroom. The light was leaking from underneath the door and when you wrenched it open, you swore under your breath.

Bucky was seated on the floor by the tub, his head in his hands as sobs wracked his chest. The mirror over the sink was smashed, pieces of reflective glass scattered all over the counter and across the floor.

You ignored it, not even noticing as you cut the bottoms of your feet while making your way to him. You knelt beside him and drew him to you, tucking his head under your chin as you ran your hands over his back, trying to calm him down.

“I’m here, Buck.” You murmured as you pressed your lips to his hair. His breathing was coming in ragged gasps as he leaned into you, and you could tell he was still upset. “Do you want to talk about it, honey?”

He just shook his head as another sob ripped out of him, his fingers wrapping in your sleep shirt.

You knew this was all part of the process. Bucky had been working with Bruce and his psychiatrist for 6 months now on identifying and moving past his repressed memories, but damn if it didn’t break you heart every time a new one popped up. This one must have been especially painful, he hadn’t had a breakdown like this in months.

“Sweetie, I’m gonna call Bruce, ok?” He was still a mess, even with you there, and it made you worried.

“No, don’t leave me.” He looked up at you desperately as he leaned against your shoulder, his eyes a startling blue from his tears as he pleaded with you.

“Shit, Bucky.” God, you fucking hated seeing him like this. You felt so helpless. “I can call from here. FRIDAY? Let Banner know we need him, stat.”

“Will do, Y/N.” The AI chirped back at you.

You reached your arm to the sink and turned it on, running a washcloth under the warm water before bringing it back to rest against his forehead.

“Y/N? Bucky? It’s me, Bruce.” You heard Banner call from the front door.

“Yeah, we’re in the bathroom.” You called. Your shoulder was soaked with snot and tears as Bucky continued weeping against you.

“Jesus, what happened?” Bruce hissed when he found you, picking his was through the broken glass as he knelt to examine Bucky, opening his medical case.

“I dunno Bruce, I woke up and found him like this.” You did your best to straighten Bucky up as Bruce took his pulse before pulling back to assemble his otoscope.

“Ok, Barnes, I’m gonna give you a sedative, buddy.” Bruce murmured as he dug in his case again, bringing out a vial and syringe. “I called his doctor when I heard from you and she’s on her way, but she was in Chicago for a conference, so she won’t be in until later this morning. She gave me the ok to calm him down for now.”

You just nodded as you stroked Bucky’s hair, doing your best to distract him as Bruce wound the tourniquet around his arm before plunging in the needle. He released the band before pushing down the plunger, and you felt Bucky relax against you almost immediately.

“I hate this so much, Bruce. I just want to be able to do something for him.”

“You’re doing it, Y/N. I don’t think his recovery would be going so well if he didn’t have you.” He looked down at your feet and winced. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“What? Oh, fuck.” Now that Bucky wasn’t occupying your attention, the slices on your feet and knees were throbbing.

“I don’t think you need any stitches, but I’m gonna use some skin glue to keep these from opening up repeatedly.” He muttered, rinsing the cuts with a betadine solution before patting them dry with some gauze.

“Thanks Bruce. Can you help me get him back to the bed?” You asked as he finished his work, throwing a towel over the broken glass and shoving it out of the way.

“Sure.” You each put one of his arms over your shoulders and hauled him to his feet, shuffling awkwardly back to the bedroom. “Dr. Laurent should be here around 10, if you could get him to the med center around then?”

“Of course Bruce, thank you so much.”

He just waved you off as he left, closing the door gently behind him. You changed into a new t-shirt and climbed back into bed, curling yourself around Bucky as you tried to fall back asleep, failing miserably.

It had been two weeks since Bucky’s breakdown. His nightmares had gotten better, but you could tell he was still upset about things. He was barely talking to you, and he hadn’t initiated sex during that whole period. You could maybe coax some small talk out of him over meals, but you could tell he was avoiding talking to you about what he remembered. All you wanted to do was comfort him and he wasn’t letting you.

Dr. Laurent assured you that they were working through it, but that this particular memory was harder to move past. All you wanted to do was comfort him, but he wouldn’t let you close.

The two of you were sitting together in silence, you were going over some field reports with your feet resting in Bucky’s lap as he read some trash mystery novel that you would usually tease him about. Your phone rang from the coffee table and you stretched to pick it up, grinning when you saw it was your sister.

“Hey Frankie!” You said cheerily as you picked up. “What’s going on?”

Bucky smiled to himself sadly as he listened to you chat with your sister. He felt so guilty about what he was doing to you. You were amazing, and kind, but he was so worried that if he let you all the way in, you’d see what a monster he was and leave him.

“Oh my god, a puppy!?” You squealed, and Bucky felt all the blood drain from his face. “Send me all the pictures! We’ll have to come visit soon and meet him.”

Bucky stood up and walked towards the kitchen, getting himself a glass of water and drinking it down greedily.

“Hey, Frankie, can I call you back tomorrow? Great, love you!” You had picked up on Buck’s change in demeanor and followed after him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” He muttered, filling his glass again and taking a sip.

You let out a deep sigh at his attempt to dodge. You knew you weren’t supposed to push him, but watching him withdraw from you like this was killing you.

“Bucky, please talk to me.” You pleaded, fighting the urge to go to him and wrap your arms around him, drawing all his pain into yourself as you held him tight.

He shook his head at you as he set his glass down on the counter, avoiding making eye contact. “I can’t.”

You took in a sharp breath at the crack in his voice and your resolve broke. You took three steps forward and pressed your body to his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringin his forehead down to lean against yours.

“It’s ok, I’m not going anywhere.” You murmured, bringing up one hand to run through his hair, trying your best to soothe him as you watched tears leak from his eyes.

“Promise?”

“Fuck, of course I promise.” You murmured before pressing your lips softly to his. “Bucky, I’m not going to leave you. I love you.”

He buried his face in your neck and let out a deep sigh, inhaling your scent and letting the warm comfort of your body relax him. You kept stroking his back and hair, waiting for him to speak.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

“When I first woke up,” He started after several minutes of silence, still not looking at you. “They would never let me outside. It was almost a year before I saw sunlight. They eventually let me out once they were sure the brainwashing had done its job, but only for a little while. There was…”

He choked on his words and you made soft soothing sounds against his cheek, doing your best to not hold your breath as he opened up to you, worried you were going to spook him like a baby deer.

“There was this tiny stray mutt I found on the compound one day. It was hiding in a little hole in the wall with an injured paw, scared of everything. I managed to sneak out some of my rations the next day for him, and did the same thing for the next week. He wouldn’t take the food from me directly, but I would leave it for him, and it would all be gone when I came back.

“It took a few weeks before he would take the food from my hand, and a couple more before he would let me pet him. Seeing that little guy was the best part of my day. The only break I had from the fighting and the torture. Sometimes he’d crawl into my lap and curl up, and those were the days I thought about making a run for it.” Bucky finally looked at you, giving you a sad smile as he pressed his forehead to yours again before screwing his eyes shut. “I named him Vladik.

“I don’t know why it took them so long to figure out he was there. The guards were supposed to be watching my every move. I wasn’t supposed to have anything for myself, no happiness or solace. And that was all he was. Just a harmless little friend. But the Soldat couldn’t have any friends.

“When the doctor in charge of my programming found out, he told me to bring him the dog, and he… he made me…”

⚠️END TRIGGER WARNING⚠️

He started sobbing before he could finish, and you felt tears running down your own cheeks as you held him tightly, the two of you sinking to the floor as Bucky wept in your arms. You curled yourself around him, wishing you could do something to just take all of that pain from him.

It was an hour before either of you moved. You were stiff from leaning against the counter for so long, but until Bucky started to straighten up, you didn’t even notice. He drew you up after him and you moaned as you unfolded yourself, your legs tingling as blood rushed back into them.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” He whispered against your hair with a heavy sigh, drawing you into another deep embrace. “Fuck, I’m exhausted.”

“I love you too, honey.” You murmured, pressing your lips to his forehead. “I’ll be right there.”

You left him to strip out of his clothes as you headed to the bathroom, locking the door behind you as you splashed cold water on your face, trying to keep yourself from having a meltdown.

You were so relieved he had finally opened up to you. But every fiber of your being just wanted to fix all of this, and the fact that you couldn’t was killing you. You choked back a sob as you bent over the sink, bile rising in your throat. It took you a few minutes to fully calm down, but you got your emotions under control with some deep breathing.

You splashed your face a few more times before heading back out to the bedroom. Bucky was still up, sitting on the edge of the bed as he waited for you. He gave you a small smile as you walked toward him, wrapping his arms around your middle and nuzzling his face against your stomach. You moaned as he started to lift your shirt, pressing his lips to your skin softly as his fingers traveled to brush against your breast, squeezing it gently.

He held you tightly and turned his body until you were laying on the bed underneath him. He crawled up your torso slowly until his face was hovering above yours. His vibranium palm cupped your cheek softly as he gazed into your eyes before bending to kiss you, his mouth needy against yours as he bit at your lips before pressing his tongue to yours, drawing a whine from your throat.

Bucky ran his hand down your throat before his fingers started working to unbutton your blouse. He made quick work of it and his mouth moved to your neck as he slid it down your shoulders. You gasped and moved your hands to wind in his hair as he unclasped your bra and wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking softly and swirling his tongue around it until it was peaked and sensitive. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he moved to your other nipple, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he continued to move down your body.

His tongue dipped into your navel as he worked at undoing your jeans, pulling them down your legs swiftly along with your panties before diving between your legs.

He had missed this. Those soft sounds of want you made were a panacea for his wounds, soothing his heart as he moved his lips over your sex, his tongue running through your folds as he lapped up your arousal. You arched into his mouth when he pressed against your clit, your hands digging into his hair as his hands gripped your thighs, keeping you spread open for him.

He moaned against you as you wriggled beneath him, your back arching and relaxing as he brought you closer to your release. You grip on his hair was bordering on painful as you tightened it, and he relished your loss of control as you fought to close your thighs around his head and press him even closer.

“Mmm, Bucky!” You moaned as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly. He finally released your legs and you wrapped them around his neck as he pushed two metal fingers into you, making you yelp.

He scissored his fingers inside you, stretching your canal as he drew obscene squelches from deep within you. He loved the feel of your pussy clenching and fluttering around him, trying to draw his fingers even deeper inside you as he edged you towards your climax.

When he curled them against that sweet, secret spot within you, you lost it. Your heels duck into his shoulders and your back arched you off the bed violently as you clamped down on his fingers. You screamed as your release flowed into his mouth, making him moan as it covered his chin. He licked his lips as he straightened above you, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. It tasted like home.

He gazed down at you lovingly as he removed his boxers, kicking them away before bending to kiss you deeply. Bucky kept his mouth on yours as he crawled onto the bed, tucking his knees under your thighs as he pressed one palm against the small of your back, drawing you up to straddle his lap.

“I love you so fucking much.” He whispered against your lips, running his fingertips through your hair before his tongue was invading your mouth, curling against and tangling with yours as he stole all the breath from your lungs. His metal hand curved over your ass as he ground his hips into you, running his cock through your slick folds. “I need to hear you say it, please doll.”

“God, Bucky. I love you.” You panted as he positioned himself at your entrance, making you whine as he breached you with just his tip. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he pulled you onto him and you hissed through your teeth as you stretched around his length, relishing in the sting you felt each time he entered you.

“Never leave me.” He pleaded as his hips started moving, his thrusts slow and sensuous as he stared deeply into your eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure as you lost yourself in the feeling of being filled with him.

“Never.” You murmured as he buried his face against your neck. “Fuck, baby.”

Your head rolled back as he picked up the pace just barely, his pubic bone grinding against your clit with each thrust and bringing you close to your edge. He nuzzled himself between your breasts and mouthed against your soft slopes gently as you tightened one hand around the back of his neck.

One particularly forceful drive had you falling backwards with a gasp. You managed to catch yourself on one arm and you pressed your toes against the mattress on either side of his hips, doing your best to keep your balance as your pussy clenched around him.

“Fuck, right there.” You whispered, your nails digging into his neck.

He brushed his teeth against your nipple and you almost collapsed against the bed, but Bucky wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly to him as your body spasmed uncontrollably, quivering in his grasp as your pussy fluttered and your release seeped out of you, soaking both of your thighs.

“You feel so good doll.” He murmured against your chest as he kept fucking into you, still moving in rich, deep plunges that made it hard for you to breathe. “So tight and warm. I fucking lose myself in this pussy.”

All you could do was whine as you wrapped your legs around his waist and gripped his neck tightly. You took in a sharp breath when he suddenly lifted himself off his knees and pushed even deeper into you, his cock hitting a new spot inside you that had you seeing stars. He gripped his hands tightly at the small of your back as he ground against you.

He hit you at just the right spot and you came again, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his hair as your body vibrated against his. He inhaled your scent with a moan as he fell forward, catching himself on his vibranium hand before he collapsed on top of you.

You kept your body wrapped tightly around his as he held you in that position with one arm, carrying all of your weight as his hips started moving violently, slapping against the back of your thighs as soft wet sounds came from between the two of you. It only took a few thrusts before you were cumming again, screaming against Bucky’s neck as the coil in your stomach snapped, your muscles finally giving out as you rode the wave of your pleasure, your body rolling underneath him as you released his neck and he let you sink back onto the bed, your arms falling above your head and your feet coming to rest on either side of his knees.

Bucky kept one arm hooked under the small of your back, arching your body at a beautiful angle as his hips started to stutter, his cock twitching inside of you as he neared his own end.

“Gimme one more doll.” He whispered, mesmerized by the way your tits bounced with each thrust of his hips, and the way your face had that blissful, fucked out look as you bit your lip and screwed your eyes shut.

He ground his hips in a circle with his next thrust and smiled as your body tried to curl off the bed. You sobbed as you came, crying his name as your thighs squeezed his hips and your cunt milked his cock. He collapsed on top of you as he came right behind you, his spend shooting into harshly, painting your canal in thick white ropes as his hips stilled.

You held him to you tightly, refusing to let him go as the two of you drifted off to sleep. All you wanted was to rest with him inside you, and he needed to feel you around him, to let you know that you were his home, his haven against all the pain of his past. You smiled as you felt his breath grow deep with sleep, your hand resting on his back as your own slumber took you.

Bucky made a lot of progress over the next few weeks. Telling you had lifted a weight from his shoulders that he didn’t realize he was carrying. His sleep was still interrupted by nightmares occasionally, but every time he woke up to find you next to him was like a balm for his soul.

He was finally starting to feel truly happy, and that made you happy. Dr. Laurent had finally given the ok for him to start going on missions again, and that was great, but he really found fulfillment at home with you, and the best part of his day was when he walked through the front door to find you waiting for him.

You were excited for Valentine’s Day. It felt like the first holiday you could really enjoy as a couple as he had made so much progress. You were thankful that Steve had kept him occupied all day, giving you a chance to work on your present for him. He was out for a run in the rain right now as you put the final touches on the meal, reviewing the recipe a final time as you set the table, shrugging to yourself and lighting the candles.

You almost dropped your match when you heard him open the front door, cursing as you narrowly avoided setting the tablecloth on fire.

“In here baby!” You called as he came inside, shaking himself from the rain. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Aww, doll, this looks… is that aspic?” He asked, one eyebrow cocked as he eyed the meal you had set out for him.

“Sure is!” You said with a grin as you eyed the brown, gelatinous entrée, doing your best to tamp down your nausea. “Steve said it was your favorite back in the day, so I decided to surprise you.”

“Steve?” He asked, a grin spreading over his face as he ran his fingers through his hair. “You asked Rogers what to get me for Valentine’s Day?”

You studied the look on his face and looked back at the meal, considering things.

“That motherfucker.” You said as he broke down, laughing hysterically. “I’m going to murder that giant.”

“I can’t believe you thought I would actually like this!” He said, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I dunno, the 30s were a weird time!” You cursed yourself in your mind for being so gullible. “Well shit, I wasted a whole day. I’m ordering Chinese.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself doll, it’s the thought that counts.” He said, giving you a mock pout before wrapping his arms around you and kissing your hair. You yelped when you felt something move in his hoody.

“What the fuck, Barnes?” You screeched as his pocket squirmed, something inside it making a tiny squeaking sound.

“Uhh, don’t be mad.” He said sheepishly as he tucked his hand into his pocket and drew out a tiny, white kitten who was screaming bloody murder. “I found her in a ditch when I was on my run, and it didn’t seem like her mother was anywhere nearby. I didn’t want to just leave her out there.”

“Oh my fucking god, Bucky!” You reached out and he handed her to you. You wrapped your hands around her loosely and cradled her against her chest. “We need a heating pad.”

“What?” He asked confused for a second.

“She’s barely a week old honey, she can’t regulate her own body temperature, go get my heating pad from the bathroom.”

“So, we’re keeping her?” He asked, a grin spreading over his face as he rushed into the bathroom.

“Of course we’re keeping her Barnes.” You scoffed at him. “FRIDAY, we need kitten milk replacer as soon as possible, and specialty feeding bottles for newborns. And get a vet here too.”

“On it, Y/N. There’s a house call veterinarian that can be here in one hour, and the rest of your supplies should arrive within 30 minutes.”

“Thanks FRIDAY.” You were making soft cooing noises at the baby as Bucky came back into the room with the heating pad, and he practically groaned at the smile you gave him.

“Happy Valentine’s day, doll.” He murmured as he kissed your hair and wrapped one arm around you, handing you the heating pad.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Buck.” You whispered back at him. “What should we name her?”

“What do you think of Alpine?”

Tags!

@buckysnumberonegirl @slothspaghettiwrites @captain-asguard @starlightcrystalline @harrysthiccthighss @quxxnxfhxll @bonkywobble @chrisevanscardigan @chubbybuckydumpling @StanAllStarks @blackestpinkworld @fistmebuckyskywalker @wandering-spiritash h @khadineberry @shutupstevie @muzzyandbusy @slytheriin2002 02 @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @isysen en @drabblewithfrannybarnes @stargazingfangirl18 @jack-skellingtons-stuff @chrissquares

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calamitykaty · 4 years

Text

Soulmates

Reggie Peters x Fem Reader

Word count:3000+

A sweet fic for my sweet soulmate @alexpjoyner

Y/N sat tucked away in the corner of the coffee shop, her glasses perched at the tip of her nose and her eyebrows pinched together making her worry lines stand out. The yellow #2 pencil that was in her left hand was being gnawed at by her teeth. The small circle table was littered with textbooks and loose-leaf paper, coffee stains evident on her English assignment.

Her attention was broken by the loud laughter that followed a set of rowdy teenage boys. Her eyes briefly met the eyes belonging to the leather-clad boy, Reggie, before she let them fall back to her assignment, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

She knew all about Reggie, everyone did. He was only the overly confident and extremely handsome bassist for Sunset Curve, and he happened to attend her high school. Y/N like to think that she wasn’t just part of the status-quo but she too had a school-girl crush on Reggie.

“Hola, Chica!”

Y/N dropped her pencil into the fold of her book and closed the cover as her best friend, Rose, pushed her papers back towards her and sat down.

“I know I’m pretty but why are you blushing?”

“I’m not blushing…”

Rose let her eyes roam around the small room before her eyes landed on the most likely culprit.

“I don’t know why you don’t just talk to him, y/n.”

Y/N tucked a stray hair that had fallen into her face back behind her left ear with one hand while the other pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. She glanced over at Reggie, his back facing hers and his hands gesturing excitedly as he explained something to his bandmates, though from the looks on their faces they weren’t nearly as enthused as him.

“...because...he’s him...and I’m,” Y/n threw her hands up, gesturing at herself, “I’m me.”

Rose rolled her eyes at her friend’s explanation or lack thereof. “Okay, one-” Rose held up her pointer finger, “he’s not nearly as cool as you seem to think he is and two--” she lifted her middle finger, “you being you is the best, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re pretty---”

“And you’re obligated to say those things as my best friend so….” Y/N huffed out stubbornly.

Rose’s lips were stretched into a tight line as she pushed her chair back against the beige tiled floor, her eyes set on the group of noisy boys.

“W-what are you doing?” Y/N asked, panicked.

Rose ignored her friend and let her feet carry her over to the boys. She propped her left elbow up on Bobby’s shoulder. The brown-haired boy looked up at her from where he was seated and smiled, “Hey, Ro!”

“Yeah, Ro, hey!” Luke chortled, his eyebrows dancing and his eyes locked on Bobby. Alex jabbed his elbow into the shaggy-haired boy’s ribs, eliciting a quiet “Ow!”

“Anyways,” Rose rolled her eyes, “I’m gonna bring a friend to watch your band practice tonight.”

“Are you asking or?” Alex probed.

“Not really!” Rose let her elbow drop from Bobby’s shoulder and sauntered back across the cafe to Y/N’s table.

“They said you can come to band rehearsal tonight,” Rose said matter of factly, sliding back into her chair.

Y/N shook her head vigorously, “No, nope….No! Absolutely not!”

“You have to! They’re expecting you and it would be rude if you didn’t show.” Rose half-shrugged and burst into a fit of giggles at the scowl that Y/N shot her way.

‘“Stop meddling in my life….” Y/N grumbled, her arms crossed tightly across her chest and the tops of her ears tinged pink. She gathered her papers into a neat pile and placed them inside the textbook before dropping everything into her backpack.

“So...this means you’re going, right?” Rose drummed on both of her knees excitedly.

Y/N pushed her chair back and slung her backpack over her left shoulder before sliding the chair back in. She purposefully ignored the question until they both stood outside of the cafe. She stopped and turned to Rose, staring at her with a deadpan expression as the girl bounced on her toes.

“What time?”

Rose lunged at her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, squealing “7pm! It’s gonna be great!!!”

Several hours later, Y/N found herself standing outside of Bobby’s detached garage. She was an hour late and she could hear the four teens already practicing inside. She nervously wrung her hands together and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling before she pulled the doors open. She could feel her ears burning as all four boys stopped playing at separate times and stared at her. Her eyes quickly darted to Rose who was perched on top of the sofa.

Rose hopped off of the sofa and skipped over to Y/N, throwing her arm around her shoulders and pulling her into the garage.

“Boys!” Rose chirped, “this is Y/N,” she dropped her arm from Y/N’s shoulders and held both hands out showing Y/N off like a prize on The Price is Right. Y/N awkwardly threw her right hand up and waved at the four boys.

“I’m Lu--”

“You don’t have to introduce yourselves, I know who you guys are!” Y/N rushed out as Luke began to introduce himself. She could feel the red of her ears move down to her neck as the embarrassment moved through her body. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked over at Rose, pleading for her to save her.

“You guys can continue, we’ll just be over here ignoring you!” Rose pursed her lips and grabbed her elbow, pulling her over to the sofa.

Y/N sunk down into the soft cushions of the sofa and bobbed her head as the boys started from the second verse of Now or Never. She tried her best to keep her eyes on her lap but every now and then she would look up and let her eyes gravitate towards Reggie who would shoot her a wink.

“Someone can’t keep his eyes off of you,” Rose sang out to Y/N.

“Shut up!” Y/N hissed quietly and threw her elbow into Rose’s side.

“I’m just sayin’” Rose wiggled her eyebrows at the girl, drawing a rosy blush to Y/N’s cheeks.

Y/N looked over at Reggie as he set his bass guitar down into the stand before he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Go talk to him!” Rose urged and pushed against her friend's shoulder.

“About what? I hardly know him!” Y/n argued, stubbornly.

“Reg!” Rose called out, grabbing the boys attention. Reggie turned around and lifted his eyebrows at Rose in question.

Rose looked over at Y/N before looking back at Reggie and smiling, “did you know that Y/N holds the top score on Centipede at The Basement Arcade?”

Reggie furrowed his brows and crossed his arms over his chest, “that can’t be true! I just took that spot last week!”

“So you’re the RP that keeps fighting me for the top spot then?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at the boy but couldn’t stop the laugh that followed her question.

Reggie let his arms fall to his sides and looked at her with his mouth agape, “ I challenge you! I challenge you to an arcade face off tomorrow at 6pm!”

“Okay?” Y/N agreed unsurely.

“It’s a date then!” Reggie declared before walking over to the sofa and holding his hand out to Y/N. She hesitantly placed her hand in his and laughed as Reggie gave it a firm shake.

“Okay...yeah. It’s a date.” Y/N agreed and let her hand fall back into her lap.

“Looks like my work here is done!” Rose teased and pulled herself up from the sofa. She grabbed Y/N’s hands and pulled her up as well.

Y/N said goodbye to each of the boys and was nearly out of the garage when Reggie called out

“Wait! What’s your address? I’ll pick you up!”

-------

They were surrounded by flashing lights, the sound of buzzers and pinball paddles being jammed harshly filled the room of the small arcade. Y/N looked over at Reggie as he lunged the small orange basketballs as fast as possible towards the hoop, his brows furrowed as he concentrated. A small frown formed on his face as the balls continuously hit the rim and bounced back towards him.

The clock counted down the last 15 seconds and Reggie picked up the pace, throwing the balls at increased speed in hopes of getting several more points. He hadn’t even noticed that Y/N had stopped tossing her basketballs a good 45 seconds before him or that she had sunk nearly every basket that she threw or that she was easily beating his score before she bowed out to give him a chance. She had already beaten him at air hockey, overtook his top score on Centipede, and embarrassed him at skeeball.

The buzzer on the machine rang out and Reggie anxiously looked at his score before leaning over to look at hers.

An ecstatic smile lit up his face and he threw his hands in the air above his head in triumph and shouted “FINALLY!”

Y/N burst into giggles at the boy, her right hand instinctively covered her mouth. Her bottom front teeth slightly over-lapped and she had always been insecure about it.

Reggie cocked his head and watched the girl as she laughed. His eyes held adoration at the way her nose crinkled at the top of her bridge and the way her cheeks pushed against her eyes so that they were just barely open. Without a moment of hesitation, he grabbed her hand in his and lowered it from her mouth, his palm felt hot in hers and his fingers slipped into the spaces between hers like a perfect puzzle.

“I like your smile.” The words pushed against his lips with confidence but his red-tinged ears that accompanied his rosy cheeks gave his nerves away.

He reached down with his left hand and grabbed the bucket that held their tickets before he tugged y/n towards the counter to turn the tickets in.

“You could have told me you were so good at arcade games so I wouldn’t be out here embarrassing myself on our first date, ya know.”

Y/n watched as the teenager behind the counter ran their combined tickets into the ticket counting machine. She looked over at Reggie and smiled, “ I didn’t expect you to be so bad, honestly. Maybe next time we just go play with puppies at Bonnie’s pet store, I’m positive you’d be great at that!”

Reggie dropped her hand in favor of placing both of his hands over his heart, a look of shock on his face at her words before he burst into laughter.

“350 tickets, you can choose from these three sections.” The red-headed teenager pointed at the different things they could choose from.

Y/N bounced on her toes and pointed at the small stuffed horse that would take 300 tickets. She pulled it to her chest and looked over at Reggie.

“You can have the rest!”

Reggie picked a multi-color friendship bracelet, a Rubik’s cube keychain, and a few pixie sticks. He shoved everything but the bracelet into the pocket of his leather jacket before he reached out for her left wrist. His bottom lip was tugged into his mouth, held by his top teeth as his fingers carefully tied the bracelet around her wrist.

“Your hand is cold...” Reggie stated absentmindedly as he tugged the knot securely, “you wanna grab a hot chocolate?”

Y/N pulled her wrist up to her face and examined the colorful bracelet before letting her arm drop back to her side and nodding, “yeah, that sounds good!”

The pair trekked outside and down the block where Rick’s pop up stand for hot chocolate was set up under a streetlamp. Y/N admired her winnings while Reggie quietly hummed a tune to himself that she had never heard before.

‘What is that?” Y/N finally asked as the boy started the song over for the third time.

“What’s what?” Reggie asked, his eyes darting around for what he was supposed to be looking for.

“No,” y/n giggled, “the song, what’s the song that you’ve been humming.”

“Oh...that...” Reggie’s right hand ruffled through his hair nervously.

“Two hot chocolates, please!” Y/N quickly placed two dollars down on the cart before Reggie could. Rick shook his head at the two teens and poured two cups of hot chocolate with whipped topping into two styrofoam cups and handed them over with a “you kids have fun!”

“So?” Y/N looked up at Reggie expectantly as they made their way back towards the arcade.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"I promise to try to not laugh," y/n compromised.

“I guess I can settle with that,” Reggie nodded and took a deep breath in before he quietly sang out the chorus that he had been humming.

Home is where my horse is

Riding through trees by the river

Feel that summer breeze, a smile gettin’ bigger

Home is where my horse is

Don’t need a house or a roof

I just lace up my saddle, lace up my boots

Cuz home is where my horse is

As the last word hung in the air, Reggie quickly brought the cup of hot chocolate to his lips and took a large gulp. Y/N hadn’t laughed so he took that as a good sign as he finally let his head turn to the left to look over at her.

“Sunset Curve goes country, I can get down with that movement, “ Y/N shrugged.

“R-r-really?” Reggie sputtered out, hot chocolate dribbling down his chin as he did so.

“Yeah, I mean..it’s kinda catchy.” Y/N said and began to hum the song to herself, “see, already stuck in my head!”

“You should come to the next band rehearsal and help me convince the other guys. That’s what I was trying to sell them on at the cafe the other day.”

Reggie threw his cup into a trash can at the edge of the sidewalk as they walked by. His rosy cheeks became inflamed when the cup hit the rim of the metal can and tumbled to the ground.

“Careful, if you keep making shots like that I may have to start calling you Jim McIlvaine,” Y/N joked as Reggie sheepishly chased the cup down the sidewalk before tossing it into the trash can.

“You can call me Larry Bird, though,” she said as she effortlessly tossed her cup into the trash can as she walked backwards. Reggie poked his bottom lip out and pouted as he jogged to catch up with her.

“Something tells me you let me win that last game in the arcade.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and let a playful smile play on her lips as she said “maybe you just had a sudden rush of NBA prowess in you back then and now it’s gone.”

Reggie slowed his pace as his 1992 silver honda civic came into view, the last car that sat in the arcade parking lot. It was only going to be a ten-minute drive for him to drop Y/N off at her house and he wasn’t quite ready for the night to end. He absentmindedly tossed his keys into the air and caught them several times before stopping at his car. Reggie leaned his back against the passenger's side of the car and looked up at the sky. The lights of the parking lot polluted the view of the stars.

Y/N stood in front of Reggie with her left hand wrapped around her right wrist and her eyes focused on Reggie’s black boots.

“I had fun tonight.” She finally said and looked up at the same time that Reggie let his head fall down from the stars, both of their cheeks were glowing with a red hue as their eyes met.

“I did too,” Reggie agreed, “actually, this is probably the most fun I’ve ever had with anyone outside of the band.”

“You’re not just saying that, right? You actually mean it?” Y/N implored.

Reggie cocked his head to the side with his brows pulled forward, the line between his brows crinkling.

‘Of course, I mean it, why wouldn’t I?”

Y/N let her eyes fall back down to Reggie’s boots as she shrugged, “I dunno, I mean…” she hesitated, slightly embarrassed about being vulnerable in front of him, “you’re...you’re in a band and you’re cool.... I mean...I hang out in the library and people watch. We're practically from different worlds."

Reggie pushed himself off of the car and closed the distance between the two. He took both of her hands in his and let his fingers fall into the spaces between hers. Y/N felt her heart pounding against her ribcage and prayed that he couldn’t hear it.

Reggie smiled softly at her before letting his eyes fall down to their intertwined hands for a moment while he gathered his thoughts.

“I know we don’t know each other that well yet,” he paused to swallow his nerves and licked his dry lips, “but I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you right now in this moment. Because when I look at you, it’s like finding a four leaf clover...like I’ve been searching for you for an eternity and I can’t believe how lucky I am when my eye finally catches you.”

Y/N slowly tugged her hands free from Reggie’s, the boy was taken aback by the response and opened his mouth to apologize only to find that his words were cut off by her lips crashing clumsily against his.

“I-I’m sorry!’ Y/N stuttered out as she pulled away. Reggie placed his hand on the nape of her neck and pulled her lips back to his, the kiss slower and with more intention than the first. Both teens pulled away with heaving chests and flushed cheeks.

Y/N looked down at her watch and looked back up at Reggie, “you know...we do have half an hour before Bonnie’s closes…”

Reggie moved aside and opened the passenger door for her before quickly running around the car to get to the driver’s side. He turned the key several times, the ignition switch fighting back against him before the engine finally turned over. He pushed the cassette the was popper slightky out of the slot back into the player and turned the volume up.

“you listen to Make Out Monday?!” Y/N exclaimed with excitement as the words I'm kissaphobic don't wanna get too close to you… floated through his partially blown speakers.

“They're my favorite band!” They both said at the same time and burst into laughter. Y/N reached forward and turned the volume up a tad bit more. Reggie drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove and harmonized with the vocalists while Y/N threw all abandon to the wind and sang off-key alongside him.

They made it to Bonnie’s with fifteen minutes to spare and rushed towards the pet store. Y/N quickly made her way to the counter and signed the puppy form that would allow them into the puppy play area.

Reggie watched as several puppies rushed over to Y/N, the girl fell onto her back and laughed as they nipped at her fingers and nudged their cold noses against her skin.

Reggie found himself staring at her with a lopsided smile, adoration in his eyes and a sleeping puppy on his lap.

Y/N couldn't believe that what started as a hesitant agreement to an unofficial date had turned into the best night of her life. They didn't know it then, but that date would be the start to a life long love affair.

@straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @crybabyddl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @dream-a-little-bigger-x @kcd15 @all-in-fangirl @ifilwtmfc @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody @angryknighttreeprune @bathtimejish @lanasfandoms @miranda0102 @emotionalbruv @aliandthephantoms @multifandombabies @kinda-really-lost @5sosmukefan @alexpjoyner @mo-d3ans @hannahhistorian92 @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic @sunflowerbecca @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @n0wornever

#Reggie peters #reggie peters x reader #julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fanfic

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shootingstarwritings · 3 years

Text

Eight Pleas on a Starry Night

Eight Cups a Day

Eight Memories a Minute

All that this creature knew from the moment of its "birth," was to consume. The moment it first began to understand "itself" and "the world," it absorbed whatever was in front of it. Just as babes from the womb yearn for their mother's womb, these slimes feast upon segments of their host's brains. There was no thought and no malice behind; instead, it was pure instinct. Consume and assimilate as much as the host's brain would allow until complete takeover.

The moment this creature, now male due to his host, opened his eyes, he saw the sight of another looking at him with emotion the creature couldn't quite understand just yet. However, through pure instinct and the slight connection they shared as a species, he knew that this was his brother. “Ah, hello,” he greeted with pure innocence.

“H-Hey,” his brother responded, sounding not unlike the people the creature saw in his host’s memories. How skillful was he at hiding amongst these humans? “D-Do you know who I am? Do you know who you are? What’s your name?” Now, he spoke aggressively, but alongside another set of emotions.

Not wanting to disappoint his brother, the creature said, “I do not recall,” with complete assurance. “I seem to be quite adept at assimilating my host’s memories, unfortunately. It looks as though I cannot be a unit that can infiltrate any of these people.”

His brother shut his eyes, as though he had swallowed something harsh, before saying, “You are Nolan. Your name is Nolan.”

“Nolan. Understood.”

“And I’m F-Forde. My name is Forde.” Forde took a deep breath, his hand brushing up against Nolan’s. Then, he intertwined their fingers together. “Do you really not remember me? When we looked at the stars together?"

Nolan shook his head. “Am I supposed to? I am sorry if I am not up to your standards, brother.” Squeezing Forde’s hand—was it his host’s natural response?—Nolan said, “I will do better in the future. Do not worry.”

Forde nodded as he drew his hand back to his chest. There was an emotion on Forde’s face that Nolan did not recognize, so he ignored it.

The creature inside of Alan stared up at the summer night. He had a fleeting thought of the few stars that shined despite the town's light pollution and wondered if that was where he and his kin came from. However, he quickly dismissed that line of thought. It was not important for their invasion, so it was unnecessary. He was reeling from these useless thoughts that continued to plague him ever since the day he emerged from the sea.

Most of his brothers had perished when he had managed to infect Forde. He could only convert one person and implant his sole offspring before his brothers, unable to speak to him and cry for help, dried up. All he could do now was ignore any sort of sentimentalism that burdened him and press on forward.

“I am an invader,” the invader said to himself, floating naked on the surface of the pool. “Then, why do I have these regrets?”

Regret was a sentiment that his host, Alan, was familiar with. Words left unsaid, arguments he couldn't take back, and a life that was snuffed due to a misunderstanding. The list was long but also faded. By now, the invader had engulfed most of Alan's memories, so there was very little he could recall with any clarity. All he could see was a series of faded images.

It mattered little, the invader decided. The lingering feelings didn’t matter. All that was important was to breed and infect. That was the final purpose they had.

“Alan, there’s someone at the door.”

Ah, that was unexpected. Alan swam to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out. “Do you know who it is, brother?”

He nodded. “It’s your friend—or rather, it’s your host’s friend,” said Forde. “He texted you, and I responded, and one thing left to another...” he said, nonchalantly while pointing his thumb to the front of the house. “And now he’s here. You gonna…?”

“I’ll have to infect him,” said the invader as he dried himself off. “There’s nothing else that can be done.”

“Right, well Nolan is by the door if you need any assistance.”

The invader raised an eyebrow. “Will you not help me?”

“I'm sorta tired if we're being honest. Maybe some other time?" Forde said with a shrug and a grin.

The invader narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything in response. He walked past Forde, but stopped right before crossing the doorway. “You are my offspring, and yet you are so different from your brother and myself. Why is that?” There was far too much personality, whether from the host or from the possessor itself. It was odd.

Forde’s gaze grew distant. “I wonder why myself,” he muttered. “But never mind that. Your friend’s in the front, and Nolan’s in position to help you infect him.”

“And your family? The ones who own this home?”

“Won’t be back until Monday. We’ve got plenty of time.”

The invader had suspicions rise, but he pushed them to the back of his mind. There were more pressing matters to attend to. “Please, watch over your siblings.” The invader didn’t wait for a response. He processed the information carefully and he dried off and dressed.

“Alan, hey!” Forde was right. A friend of Alan, a great deal younger—about middle-aged—stood in front of the doorway. The invader could not access much of Alan's memories, so the man was a stranger to him. However, he was knowledgeable enough to recognize the glint in the man's eyes.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Came as soon as I could,” the man said, smiling brightly as he spoke to Alan. “Said you needed my help? Say, what’s this place anyway? How come you’re here?” With narrowed eyes, the man leaned in and whispered, “Ain’t that kid a li’l too young for you? Seems kinda weird if you ask me.”

Alan shook his head. “He’s a family friend. Said he needed help moving a couch. Could you help me?”

The suspicion in the man’s eyes cleared, and he eagerly nodded. “Sure! I’ll give you hand. Lead the way.”

[LINE BREAK]

Forde was panting by the time he entered the house again. What he walked into didn’t surprise him, but he still had to fight the urge to gag.

“Hello, nngg, Forde!” Nolan greeted him as he fucked Alan’s convulsing friend. “This one has almost finished his conversion. Would you like to assist me?"

“I think I’ll pass,” Forde said, grimacing. His eyes lingered on the man before turning over to the sleeping Alan on the couch. “Alan’s asleep?”

“Yes, mmm. He-fuck—s-said creating so many offspring has left him exhausted. Will probably sleep until the party tomorrow.”

The party…

Forde took a deep breath, trying to calm his breathing. “Nolan, when you’re… finished, meet me in my room, all right?”

“Which—“

“The one closest to the bathroom. You can’t miss it.”

“Right."

Forde lied back on his bed, attempting to erase the image of Nolan happily plowing another man’s ass out of his head. There was no doubt that what he had seen was the truth, but it carried such wrongness to it that he couldn’t help to wind back to it. Nothing about Nolan seemed to have remained. The chipper friendliness and eagerness to please was something that would have disgusted Nolan and now it disgusted Forde. Not even the memories were there. At most, the one possessing Nolan could remember some family members, last name, and his street address.

Everything else, including that night under the stars, was gone.

“Is this my punishment?” asked Forde, unsure if God would answer the pleas of a parasite. “Is this what I deserve for killing Forde?" That sin would remain with him for the rest of his life. It didn't matter if he believed he was Forde and inherited the name, the body, and the memories, the original was gone. If Forde ever left this body, it would remain a hollow husk. The organs would function, but there would be no brain activity. It would be no different than a vegetable.

Yet, Forde could not deny his greedy nature—as a parasite and a man. I still want to be happy, he thought. God, Alan, and the world itself can shame and hate me for it, but I still want to live a happy life. He knew how shameless that desire was, but did not care. The pain and pleasure that he has known in his short time as a human only stroked the hungry flames that burned in his heart.

The door opened, and Nolan walked in, still naked. “I am here, brother,” he announced, as though it wasn’t obvious.

Forde drew the sheets back and scooted to the side of the bed. “Close the door, and lie with me.”

“Hmm? Will we be sleeping on the same bed?”

“Yeah. Keep me company for tonight, will ya?”

“I see no reason to decline.” Without any shame, Nolan lied right next Forde. Their bare shoulders were touching, but only one of them understood the implications,

“Nolan, do you remember what happened when we went camping that night?”

“I do not.”

“Yeah, I figured,” said Forde, preparing himself. His hand was trembling, and he was sweating all over. Why couldn’t he calm himself? “Could you… Could you do me a favor, br-brother…?” When Nolan said yes, Forde nearly sobbed. After a deep, uneven breath, he said, “Please, gather yourself in your host’s mouth. I have to show you something.”

Unquestionably, Nolan did so. He opened his mouth, the blue slime lying on top of his tongue. Even in that form, he looked completely innocent.

Forde ripped over the packet of salt and poured it on his own tongue, cringing from the taste. Then, he leaned over and kissed Nolan’s lips before swiftly drawing back, the aftertaste of the salt lingering in his now empty mouth. The effect was immediate.

Nolan’s body began to violently convulse. “Wh-What did you d-do?!” Nolan cried out, spitting out the salt and now bits of foam. “Br-Brother?!” His eyes rolled to the back of his head and spat out more and more foam—the remains of his desiccated body. Forde shut his eyes and covered his ears.

Just like snails and slugs, their species would dry out when their real forms were exposed to concentrated amounts of salt due to osmosis. Even though they originated from the ocean, the intense amount of salt would still kill them. It only due to Forde’s biology degree that he could figure that out. And because of that, he knew that there was a chance Alan didn’t know that, either. This was his only weapon… the only thing he had to stop the invasion.

And yet…

Forde jumped as Nolan grabbed his arm in desperation. He opened his eyes and the image burned itself into his memory. He was dying. Nolan, the slime, whatever, was dying. Because of him. Because of what Forde did. He’s just a parasite, a murderer, Forde kept thinking as the convulsing began to cease. “I had to, I had to...” he kept muttering to himself, even as tears trailed down his cheeks.

He was a murderer just like me.

Now, he was staring at Nolan’s still-breathing body. There was no life in his eyes, but his chest still rose and fell, and his mouth was still agape. The slime, his brother, was gone. And Nolan was gone too. Two more lives that Forde had snuffed out, and tomorrow he would have to do it again.

He tried to smile. “Nolan...” he said, embracing the brain-dead husk. “Nolan, Nolan… Nolan… I love you,” he said, caressing Nolan’s unmoving face. “I saved you, I did it… you’re okay now.” Forde pressed his face on Nolan’s left pectoral. His heart continued to beat despite how empty it was. “You’re free, you’re okay. I k-killed the parasite, I did it for you…! So, you’ll forgive me, right?” There was no response, no matter how much Forde pleaded. However, he continued. "Please, please tell me you'll forgive me. You and Forde will forgive me, right? Please, please, for the love of God, please help me...”

Neither God nor Nolan answered him that night.

#male possession #slime possession #DILF possession #eight cups a day #eight memories a minute

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bisexualcrowley · 4 years

Text

Undercover

Pairing: Harry Hart x Fem! reader

Summary: While doing surveillance at a gala, Y/n and Harry's identities are threatened to be uncovered and they take to a rather intimate method of hiding their faces

Content/warnings: smutty themes? nsfw, fluffy stuff, cursing, suggestive themes, semi-public foreplay/teasing, making out, Merlin’s still alive bc i want him to be

Word count: 3,729

“A Gala. In the middle of winter, this means I might have to fight in heels, is this really necessary Merlin?” Y/n sighed, glancing out at the light drifting of snow that had begun to flutter down from the sky. Its not that she had anything against winter, the woman mused to herself, just that it makes this sort of work so much more difficult.

The year had been tough enough already, having lost Harry to Valentine, getting Harry back, the whole issue with the Golden Circle, and the constant stress was getting to Y/n, the smallest thing now able to piss her off, and unfortunately for her, this latest mission seemed to be more than a small thing. “C’mon Y/n, i know we all could use some rest but this is important, the target is threatening to release catastrophic amounts of classified government information. I’m not asking you to be on the front line here, I just need you and Galahad on the sidelines, more as surveillance and backup than anything else.”

Y/n had been less than impressed with Merlin’s words, wanting to stay as far away as possible from field work until she had gotten a decent amount of sleep, but her ears perked up at the mention of her best friend and previous partner at Kingsman.

“You’re letting Harry in the field again?”

She asked, surprised at the man’s words. “I thought you said he wasn’t ready yet, after the problems he had while working alongside the American agents.

“Not fully, as i said, the two of you will just be keeping tabs on him from the crowd, not making contact unless absolutely necessary.” Merlin must have picked up on Y/n’s eagerness to work alongside Harry again and allowed himself a slight smile as he spoke, sliding the paperwork across the table to the younger agent. “This place is fancy, i mean really fancy, you’re gonna want to look your very best. Go over his papers today and be here dressed and ready at 20:30 tomorrow. And I mean it, y/n, be dressed to kill, in more than just the metaphoric sense”

Most of her annoyance having melted away at the mention of Harry, Y/n agreed, taking the papers and shaking Merlin’s hand before turning on her heel and jogging down the hall of the Kingsman offices, hoping to find her friend. Luckily Y/n didn’t need to search far, finding him in the actual tailor section of the building being fit for a tuxedo.

Y/n caught Harry’s eye in the mirror in front of him and she shot him a grin, leaning casually against the door frame. “Lookin’ good, Galahad. Excited to be headin’ back into it?” She asked, affection shining in her smile at the sight of Harry Hart suiting up for battle once again.

It was no secret among many of the Kingsman agents that Y/n had fallen hard for the man, her feelings becoming clear to them when Harry was shot as she had broken down in tears at the news despite being one of Kingsman’s toughest agents, however she did manage to keep the secret from Harry himself, terrified of losing the relationship they already had by revealing her feelings only to find that they weren’t reciprocated.

Eggsy and Merlin, of course, had required a fair amount of bribery to be convinced to keep their mouths shut, finding the whole situation more than amusing and wanting nothing more than to spill the beans to Harry, whom they were fully convinced shared y/n’s feelings. Y/n didn’t crack though, and eventually the men had settled on the childish teasing of Y/n and placing bets on who would make the first move. Eggsy had put 50 pounds on Y/n cracking first, but Merlin put his money on Harry, having said something about Eggsy underestimating the woman.

At the moment, despite her refusal to share her feelings with Harry, Y/n feared that Eggsy was going to be the one to win the wager as she felt her heart beat faster at the happy smile Harry had offered her in return. “Looking forward to be working alongside you again, Y/n, it’s been lonely without my partner”

Y/n felt her face heat up at the compliment, but determined not to let her resolve fail she once again held back the words she wanted so badly to tell her friend, instead choosing to push herself off the doorframe and saunter over to Harry’s position in the center of the room. “So... A gala. Haven’t done one of these together in ages, have we.” Y/n’s hand came to rest on Harry’s shoulder, still not having broken their eye contact through the mirror. “It has been a while, although luckily, I never forgot how to dance”

Y/n’s confident exterior faltered at his words, tilting her head to the side and eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “We have to dance?” She asked, voice coming out far quieter than she had hoped. Harry let out a very ungentlemanly laugh at her shock, turning his gaze from the mirror to meet his friend’s eyes properly. “I’d assume Merlin didn’t tell you for this very reason, y/n” He chuckled. “We’d stick out too much, standing in the middle of a ballroom. To draw the least amount of attention to our position, we’re gonna have to dance”

Y/n froze for a moment, weighing her options. On one hand, she thought, I’m dancing with Harry. On the other hand, i’m dancing. In public. What a terrifying thought, i should just tell Merlin i won’t do it. But if i don’t do it, i don’t dance with Harry.

She squinted slightly, fighting herself for which option was better, but in the end decided that the upside of pretending to be Harry’s date outweighed the negatives in the situation, and after another moment of hesitation, Y/n nodded, nervously drumming her fingers on the man’s shoulder.

“Alright then. If we’re gonna dance, we’re gonna do it right. I’m gonna go find a dress, i guess. See you tomorrow, Galahad” Y/n breathed, a hint of humor making it’s way into her words as she went on, which to her luck Harry picked up on, and replied with an exaggerated salute, earning him a giggle and smile from Y/n before she slung on a coat and took off again.

Lucky for her the London streets were nearly empty, most seeking cover from the bitter cold within the comfort of their homes, and the trip to her own home was quick for Y/n. Almost immediately upon arriving, she threw open the doors of her closet, flicking through hanger after hanger of clothes that Merlin would be less than happy about her wearing to such a prestigious event. It appeared that luck was still on her side, however, as Y/n paused, pulling out a dress previously hidden behind a thick winter coat. It was beautiful, a slim gown of deep green velvet with a loose, plunging neckline and thin black straps with a shimmering gold woven throughout, and y/n smiled, knowing it would be perfect for the following night.

The next day passed quickly, Y/n having to study the target’s file, shower, do her hair and makeup, fit a variety of concealed weaponry on her person, and what felt to her like a million other things, and it felt like no time at all before she found herself outside the Kingsman Tailor shop, glittering heels clicking along the icy sidewalk leading up to the building. Y/n reached for the door handle, shivering slightly in the cold but was met with the door swinging open in her face, Merlin staring down at her with Eggsy, Tequila and Harry behind him.

“Y/n, you’re late, c’mon, there’s a car waiting in the back, c’mon lets go” Merlin ushered her along, the group rounding the building to find a black towncar waiting in the alley. It took a bit of maneuvering to fit everyone into the vehicle, coats bunching up in the small space, but eventually the group situated themselves in a somewhat comfortable fashion, and they were off.

The drive was longer than Y/n had expected, but no time was spent relaxing, having found herself rather distracted by her body being pressed against a very well dressed Harry, the cramped space forcing her leg to shift up onto Harry’s so that she was sitting partially on his lap, a position that had the both of them blushing furiously and Tequila chuckling from Harry’s left.

Hoping to distract from the uncomfortable and unfortunately mildly arousing way she was seated, Y/n leaned forward to peer past Harry and raised an eyebrow at the American agent, who in return mimicked her expression, which brought a mix of annoyance and amusement to the still blushing woman. “Mind if i ask why Harry was forced into the middle seat? Last time i checked, i’d fit a fair bit better” Y/n asked, Harry humming in agreement with her statement.

“Why, you wanna sit on my lap instead?” Tequila smirked, earning a snort of laughter from Eggsy and Merlin in the front seat and a glare from Y/n, where Harry shifted uncomfortably and blushed harder.

Y/n’s snapped back, but her retort was cut short at the feeling of the car slowing to a stop and Merlin leaning over the drivers seat to run over the night’s details one last time.

The plan went smoothly from then, Eggsy and Tequila positioning themselves near the main doorways and Merlin settling himself behind a computer, leaving Harry and Y/n to shed their coats and make their way further into the ballroom. A string quartet was set in the middle of the north wall, playing what y/n recognized immediately to be a slower rendition of the seal lullaby, and she fought the urge to twirl around a couple times, instead smoothing out her dress and holding out a hand to Harry.

“Well Mr. Hart, may i have this dance?” Y/n spoke calmly, careful to avoid appearing overly enthusiastic so as not to draw unnecessary attention to the pair, but the warmth shining in her eyes was undisguisable to Harry, who took her arm with a smile and led her to their position in the ballroom.

The image of the two Kingsman agents settling into a graceful mix of a waltz and a simple slow dance was reflected off the marble floors, creating what would have been a beautiful photo had there been a photographer near them and y/n relished in the moment, hand clasped with Harry’s, his hand pulling her waist to his as they swayed to the music.

Harry caught Y/n’s eye as he caught her after a spin, a grin breaking through his character that made her heart flutter. The song slowed to it’s end and the couple for the night paused, the taller figure dipping y/n and freezing, their faces inches apart. Y/n felt her breath hitch in her chest, heart pounding at the intimate position they had paused in.

Her eyes met Harry’s again, the latter panting slightly, his pupil dilated and face flushed red, and dear god it turned Y/n on. Biting her tongue to hold back what would have been a rather humiliating moan, she rested her weight into Harry’s arms, allowing herself a second to catch her breath. As the next song began, Harry shook himself out of whatever state he was in and pulled y/n back up against him, resuming the dance like nothing had happened. Y/n, still flustered, tried to distract herself by shooting a glance towards their target, who had moved from lingering by the side entrance to scanning the crowd from a nearby refreshment table. As the song reached a peak Harry spun y/n around again, but this time around her heel caught on the seam of her dress and she stumbled, accidentally turning away from her partner. Quickly righting herself, Y/n returned to her previous stance, but not before making brief yet intense eye contact with the man they were watching. “Shit... Merlin do you have eyes on the target? I might have just fucked us over” Y/n’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper, eyes blown wide with horror at the prospect of ruining Harry’s first real taste of action since the Golden Circle incident.

“Hang on, hang on, don’t abort mission yet” Merlin muttered through her earpiece, y/n hearing the clacking of keys as the older agent fussed with the security cameras

“Fuckin hell, Galahad, Y/n, he’s coming your way. Hold your position, we don’t blow your cover unless we’re 100% sure he knows who you are. Keep dancing, but don’t let him see your face”

Merlin’s voice cut across the earpiece again, and by the way y/n felt Harry's shoulders tense she knew he heard the message too.

“Shit, what do we do?” she hissed back, watching her partner risk a glance to the left and finding the target moving smoothly through the crowd, eyes set on the couple.

“Keep dancing, stay inconspicuous for as long as possible, if we’re lucky he’ll just pass on by. Now i’ll say it again, don’t let him see your bloody faces.” Merlin’s voice was low, and Y/n couldn’t stop the nervous feeling they caused from setting in as she watched the man grow nearer out of the corner of her eye.

“Merlin i don’t know what you expect us to do here if it’s so imperative we don’t move from this spot, we can’t just-”

Y/n tuned out Harry’s urgent whispers as a solution came to mind, eyes widening at the ridiculousness her own mind had come up with, but not seeing a better solution she shushed him, placing a finger over his lips.

Harry looked confused but went along with it, cocking an eyebrow in silent questioning and giving her shoulder a soft squeeze as the man drew closer, nearly close enough to get a good look at the pair, and y/n knew she had to make her move. With a quick whisper of “forgive me for this Harry”, Y/n brought her hands up to cup her friend’s face and pulled him into a kiss. Harry froze momentarily, his jaw tensing in shock before he followed her lead and returned the kiss, their lips moving against each others perfectly in sync and y/n couldn’t keep herself from sighing into the kiss, unconsciously pressing her body closer to his.

Harry deepened the kiss, his hands moving to thread through her hair and a vague thought reminded Y/n he was just helping to conceal her face, but it was shoved quickly to the back of her mind with a particularly passionate movement from Harry which she met enthusiastically. Her hands inched upwards to tug at his perfectly styled hair, which earned Y/n a low moan against her lips, and she pressed closer again, unconsciously slipping her leg between Harry’s. She felt his cock twitch against her thigh and all thoughts of what they were there to do flew out the window, one hand clasping at the collar of his tuxedo’s jacket and the other cupping his cheek, pulling his face down to her own.

Feeling bold, Y/n made a move to nip at Harry’s lower lip but before she had the chance, they were interrupted by a more than amused Eggsy clearing his throat beside her. The pair flinched in surprise and pulled quickly out of the heated embrace, leaving Y/n wiping speared lipstick from her face and fixing disheveled hair, Harry somewhat discretely adjusting his clothing to hide the now quite sizable bulge in his trousers with a deep blush across his cheeks and Eggsy watching from the side, eyes tearing up from the effort of holding in his laughter.

“Merlin says good thinkin’, Y/n. The two’ve you were a bit busy to notice but Tequila got the guy, he went down nice n’ quiet, we’re supposed to get to the car as soon as possible” Eggsy had a shit eating grin plastered across his face as he spoke, which only got wider when Y/n gave Harry an awkward smile, which he returned briefly before shoving his hands in his pockets and staring down at his shoes.

Snickering, Eggsy escorted the pair through the crowded room and through a series of side doors, which after a seemingly unnecessary number of hallways led to a back exit where the towncar that had brought them to the gala was waiting. Dreading what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation with Harry, y/n winced at the thought of how inappropriate her actions towards her friend were, and she moved to open the passenger side door but was stopped by Eggsy once again, who flung open the door and threw himself in next to Merlin, who quite to her displeasure shared Eggsy’s smirk.

Y/n’s eyes locked with his, silently pleading to switch seats but her weak attempt proved to be in vain as Eggsy winked and pointed over his shoulder to the back of the car, where Harry was already seated. Y/n glared at Merlin but didn’t argue, and took a deep breath before sliding into the car, which to her luck was no longer so cramped due to the third agent having stayed behind with the target. The space was still smaller than she would have wished, but the cover of darkness provided a touch of comfort that y/n was endlessly grateful for.

Shadows crossed across her legs as the car rolled into gear, Merlin driving out of the alley and beginning the long journey back to the Kingsman headquarters. Y/n sighed, leaning her head against the window and closing her eyes, hoping the cold glass against her skin would help to drown out her racing thoughts.

Much to her dismay, however, they had been traveling for less than ten minutes when Eggsy turned around, leaning over his chair with the same wicked smile stretched across his face as he had worn before.

“So, you two had some fun t’night, didntcha?” Merlin let out a snort of laughter from beside him, Eggsy nodding his head suggestively between the pair in the backseat. Too tired to come up with a snarky reply, y/n simply rolled her eyes at Eggsy, and went back to working up the nerve to say something to the uncharacteristically silent figure seated beside her.

The realization that Harry was rarely this quiet around y/n outweighed her fear of confrontation, concern for her friend pulling her focus from Eggsy to the older man, and she turned to face him. Harry was sitting stiffly, hands clasped in his lap and head straight forward, but he must have been watching y/n out of the corner of his eye, as he looked to the side to meet her eyes when she turned from her position by the window to look up at him.

In that moment, the car was silent aside from the low rumble of the engine, the tension between the two growing from tolerable to an absolute peak, hanging thickly in the air between their bodies. It was thick enough, apparently for Eggsy to pick up on it, and with a chuckle about “giving you two some privacy”, he pressed a button beside his seat that caused a black divider to come up behind him, separating the front from the back of the car and leaving Y/n and Harry in silence.

Both Harry and Y/n stayed frozen in place, faces turned to each other and her eyes locked on his. Hesitantly, y/n placed a hand on Harry’s knee, a motion that years of friendship had taught him meant she had a lot to say, but didn’t yet know how to say it, and Harry nodded, the silent exchange sharing more than words would be able to.

“...I... I’m sorry, Harry, i shouldn’t have...” Y/n’s voice was low, barely above a whisper as she spoke, trailing off as the words caught in her throat.

"No, y/n, it was my mistake, i just...” Harry's voice faltered as well, fingers coming up to fuss nervously with the strap of his eyepatch, a habit y/n had noticed Harry picked up when he felt flustered.

Neither of them knew what had happened; one moment they were sitting in silence, y/n’s hand on his knee and tension high, and the next moment y/n found herself being pulled into Harry’s lap, her hands once again tugging at his hair as they met again in a heated kiss. Her dress had hiked up to her hips at this point, allowing Y/n to straddle her lover properly, and this time she didn’t hesitate to grind down against him, Harry’s hands coming to grip her smooth hips as she rubbed her barely covered sex along the bulge in his trousers, both letting out groans of pleasure at the friction.

Harry’s fingers trailed down y/n’s body as they made out like horny teenagers in the backseat, moving from her hair down to cup her covered breast, and down further to trace along the slick fabric of her panties. Y/n whimpered at the touch and moved to return the favor, her own hand coming to palm at his cock through his pants, at which Harry gasped and yanked her down onto his lap once again, hips thrusting up to grind against y/n’s cunt.

She moaned against his mouth once again, pulling away for just long enough to strip off Harry’s coat and unbutton his shirt before returning to her position on his lap. The two were so caught up in the moment that they didn’t notice the car pulling up to the curb and stopping, however they did take notice to the door flying open and the flash of a camera, followed by Eggsy’s delighted voice and a deep laugh from Merlin. Embarrassed, y/n quickly tugged her dress back into place and slid out of the car, holding out a hand for Harry to take as he climbed out, looking as red faced as y/n felt.

“Go on, buggers, we took you to Galahad’s place. I’ll find out who won the bet tomorrow, go have some fuckin’ fun.” Eggsy laughed at their dumbfounded expressions at his words, but chose not to respond, instead returning to his seat beside Merlin who drove off a few seconds later, leaving two very sexually frustrated agents on the sidewalk.

“Well then... Wanna take this inside?”

#harry hart smut #kingsman smut #kingsman imagine #kingsman fluff #harry hart x reader #harry hart imagine #harry hart fluff #wlm imagine #fanfic #oneshot #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman harry

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passivenovember · 3 years

Text

And Everyday was Overcast.

Part One : Hammers and Nails

Billy needed someplace to go when the grave was desecrated.

When his eyes unglued themselves, peeling off eyelashes in their wake, when the earth was overturned, torn and left hanging like shreds of old fabric; Steve had been there. By some miracle he had been consumed like he always was, sat thinking by a plot that had grown yellow flowers to blanket Billy in his eternal sleep. And maybe it was those small visits sheltered between morning runs and eight hour shifts stocking the horror section that Billy had come back.

From the grave. From the brink.

The Earth started vibrating, spidery cracks turning volatile, and Steve was met with ocean blue. Red rimmed eyes locked on his face, hands reaching and gripping. Nails digging in as Steve wrapped Billy's grime covered shoulders in his own jacket. Rubbed the chilled skin of his arms, looked in his eyes, and took him home.

Someplace Billy could wash the day from his skin.

The blonde haired boy who had turned from human to creature and back again deserved something more than what he was left with. He deserved warm meals, and sunshine on his skin, and soft bed sheets that opened like a celestial sky when Billy felt like shelving the enormity of what he had discovered. What waited after death.

Steve wanted that for him.

Not happiness, not closure, exactly, but something close to it.

At the root of it all, Steve knew Billy should feel safe. Welcome and warm and comfortable, in the house that Steve’s father had built for his mother all those years ago when she was plump and round with child. Steve felt like his father that day as he carried the last box over the threshold and took in the rigid, tense line of Billy’s shoulders.

He let the moment rest. Let it breathe, as his father always instructed. “Do you think you could feel safe here, Billy?”

The air sat heavy. Cold and wet and warm, somehow, like the morning after a night of heavy rain. Billy sucked in a sharp breath and pivoted slowly, face reverent, as if standing barefoot in a cathedral among gods and heroes. Met with divinity.

Instead he got Steve.

Just Steve, trying not to stare at the lone curl hanging over Billy’s forehead when he offered a tight, controlled smile. “It’s fine.” Billy said, only.

Steve tore his eyes away. Focused on the second story banister to stop his gut from falling through the floor. ”Fine? As in, I would rather eat my own toenails than live here, fine or, like. It's okay, I don't mind it here, I might even like it someday, fine?"

Billy adjusted the strap across his shoulders. “It’s just what I expected it would be.”

Steve shook his head. “What’s that mean?”

"Relax, Harrington, it's." Billy turned again, eyebrows scrunched together. “Its. Pastel. And huge. Obscenely decorated—“

”My mom had it professionally done before they—“

”It was built for a happy family with lots of kids. Lots of love, but now it's. It feels. Lost.”

Billy had started saying things like that.

Heavy, saturated, impossible things that left Steve scrambling. Wishing for the intelligence to absorb the meaning rather than question it. Steve rested the box at the foot of the stairs and offered a smile to the second story. Runoff for the pools of blue that looked on.

"That's a lot of adjectives. I can get you a hotel, maybe. Or an apartment. I could cosign, I know they gave you a pretty penny and you could probably afford your own, but. I could. I would." Steve said harshly. "For you. I would."

"It's fine here. It's okay."

Steve felt like a science experiment. Egg boy with three heads and ten legs or something. Suckers on the tips of his thumbs, the way Billy studied him. Steve counted the freckles on Billy's nose--one, two, three, four--trying to stay afloat.

Dinner was made every night though Steve never saw it happen.

The cookbooks sat alphabetized over his mother's antique bar cart on that little periwinkle blue shelf. He'd come home, every night, at six on the dot, to a set table. The mixing bowls were always clean and put away, counters wiped and ingredients stored neatly on the shelves his pantry, but the wooden spoons spelled it out for Steve, still shifting from dark to light as they lay drying on the dish rack.

"You don't have to make dinner, you know." Steve took another bite of Salisbury steak, furious that it tasted so good. Like love soaking into his skin.

Billy shook his head. "I want to."

"I know, I'm saying it's okay if you decide not to, one day. Like if you get caught up reading. Or if you can get Max to drive you to the history museum, or if you--"

"It's the least I can do."

Steve hated that. He let his fork clatter to the table. "I'm not expecting repayment for this."

"I'm not a freeloader."

"And I'm not an asshole." Steve deadpanned, lifting a finger that sewed Billy's smug lips together. "Don't say it."

"Say what?"

"Whatever you were thinking, with that clever glint in your stupid blue eyes."

Billy cracked his knuckles, clearly fighting a smile. "Never thought you noticed the color of my eyes, Harrington."

"Yeah, sure." Steve stood, gathering the plates and forks and knives from the table, his own eyes counting primary threads. "Can see those things from space, Jesus." He finally looked up, at Billy's curiously pink face.

Pink lips, cheeks, nose.

Steve gripped ceramic. Swallowed against a swell of guilt. "You don't owe me anything, Billy. I like having you here. I want you here."

Billy gave a simple, controlled nod.

Steve got used to it.

The shack wasn't built until the doctor told Billy that he'd probably wouldn't remember all of what happened. The big things would stick out, neon greens and blues against the forest head, but Billy shouldn't be too hard on himself if the important things got thrown away.

And some of those jagged little pieces were there. The bad things. Anger and hatred, both for self and world, left hanging on the cliff of who he was now. Everything that had formed Billy Hargrove--the person he was, the person Steve had pretended not to notice--were packed away. Soft, silky emotion covering knives left dull and rusted in their drawer.

Billy remembered like flashes of lightening across the summer sky--sudden and then gone. Here and away. He remembered Hawkins high and Max who'd grown six inches in three years. Dustin who had been wearing that stupid shirt when the mall burned down.

And Steve.

Always Steve, sat next to him. A foot away at first and then holding his hand, later, when Owens said Billy should be kind to himself. Gentle.

He wasn't.

And he didn't come out of his room for three days after that, after the wall was placed in front of him. The crack under Billy's door always keeping Steve at bay. Trapped behind the starting line. He paced around on the carpet, lifting his fist and letting it fall again, never breaking up the silence.

Billy was crying.

Billy never cried, anymore, but he cried that night and Steve felt helpless. Pathetic and stupid and useless, locking himself in his father's study and trying to formulate a plan, just like Owens had told him to when the sun fell on a world without Billy Hargrove and then suddenly rose again, set anew.

Set crooked when Billy stormed from the hospital room, slamming doors that echoed like rolls of thunder in his wake.

Figure out a way to help him.

Sterile, eerie white walls stared back at him as Steve shrugged his shoulders on the third day, aluminum hospital chair groaning beneath his weight.

I'm not sure how to do that.

You don't have to do anything. Owens said. Just help him get the emotion out. Let him write, draw, sing, dance, whatever he needs to assist in telling us his story.

Potato casserole and red wine bore witness to Steve's leap of faith. Billy turned away from the novel he had tucked under his arm when Steve got home from work that day, eyes curious. "Spit it out, Harrington."

"I'm not sure what you--"

"You've been giving me the side eye since you got home." Billy turned the page in his book, still managing to read both it and the room as he urged, "Tell me what's wrong."

And nothing was wrong, and.

Everything was wrong. Steve leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Do you want to come with me to the art store tomorrow?"

Billy frowned. "I don't need anything from the art store."

"It's not always about what you need," Steve reasoned, patting his mouth with a napkin. "We could get stuff you want. That's all, just pretty things. Nice things. It could be a treat."

"Paper and scissors are considered a treat?" Billy cocked an eyebrow. "I do love touching shit, it's one of my favorite hobbies."

Steve scrubbed at his mouth, swallowing down against a big, fat, crooked smile dripping with affection. "C'mon, it'll be fun. We can get whatever you want; clay, oil pastels, acrylics--"

"I wanted to check out the library tomorrow."

"You go everyday, blue, you're a regular bookworm."

"So?" Billy demanded, taking another bite of casserole. "I like to read. Just 'cause you can't doesn't mean the rest of us have to hold back." He grinned, low and slow. "Don't let your jealousy turn you into a tyrannical landlord, pretty boy."

"God, you're the absolute worst."

Billy turned back to his novel. "The art store will just inspire me to paint nudies."

"So paint them." Steve challenged.

Bait. Hook and line.

"You gonna pose for me if I let you buy out the joint?"

Steve shrugged. "Maybe once, if you look at the easels while we're there."

"No shit?" Billy leaned forward, biceps flexing in his cutoff as he stuck a polaroid of a smiling blonde woman between the pages of his novel. "The fuck is this about, Harrington?"

"I'm worried."

"That you'll take me to a crafts store and I'll put you out of house and home? Reasonable concern, I guess."

"About the diagnosis, dipshit. About you." Steve gulped down the rest of his wine. Made sure every last drop had seasoned his words before any were said aloud, where they might do damage. He let the glass rest on the table between his fingertips, stem rolling from pad to pad. He took a deep, steadying breath. "You haven't been the same since--"

"I got hijacked by a space demon or crawled out of my own grave?" Billy shrugged, picking at something in his teeth. "Be more specific."

Steve fiddled with the handle of his fork. Hand picked his words. Refined the meaning. "Yes, and. Both."

Billy didn't say anything for a while and the room finally settled. Falling fast asleep, thick with inertia and silence until the book was opened once more and Steve went back to digging through his casserole, picking at the spring onions.

Letting the moment breathe.

Until, finally. "I feel like I could crawl out of my own skin."

Steve tripped over himself to get those blue eyes on him once more. "That's understandable--"

"I feel fucking useless." Billy snapped, voice cracking in two, and. Suddenly Steve couldn't look at him. Couldn't bare to see his face. "I'm trying to replay what happened. Every second, I'm trying to figure out why. Why me."

Steve counted the primary threads in the table cloth. One, two, three. "You can't go on asking yourself questions like that."

"I can do what I--"

"It wasn't your fault, Billy. Any of it."

"I'm not talking about the Fourth of July, I'm talking about. Death. I'm talk about what comes before and what comes after and how they're the same." Billy turned the page in his novel furiously, eyebrows scrunched together. "I never thought they'd be the same. It's like I've started over."

Steve couldn't possibly understand, but.

He watched pools of blue scan the page. Took measured breaths, never pushing until Billy was ready to share more. Until he tossed the book on the counter and sighed, head buried in his hands. "I don't understand how I got here."

"Easy," Steve whispered. "That's easy. You were born from love--"

"My parents aren't in love anymore."

"But they were, once." Steve shook his head. "When you were made. They loved each other, and they loved you, and your life was full of love that never made sound but it was still there." Steve willed Billy to look at him. Willed the skies to turn blue again.

They didn't.

Billy sighed, low and slow. "Did love bring me here again?"

"I guess so."

"Who's love?" Billy demanded, leaning forward into the table and crushing his novel where it lay against light oak tabletops. "Who loved me enough to bring me back here? To wish for me."

And.

There were a lot of things Steve wanted to say. Lines he wanted to map out, directions that lead from A to B and back again, but it didn't seem useful. Didn't rest important, as Steve took the novel from its place on the table and smoothed worn pages, tucking the polaroid in its place. "I'm sorry things feel weird for you." He said softly.

Billy grabbed the book, staring down at his casserole. "'S not so bad, I guess."

And, for Steve, that wasn't good enough.

Billy worked mostly in charcoal. He painted nightmares, and doorways into the past, delicate, swirling lines telling a story that made Steve's heart ache to see. To hear, with every drag of material across fruited canvas'.

Steve asked him about it, once. Over dinner, with the lights turned low. "Why do you paint such horrible things?"

And Billy had smiled. Bright and true. "How's that?"

"Y'know. Black scabs and eyeballs melting out of skulls and sliding down the ridge of people's faces, and--"

"It's what I see." Billy replied, voice soft. Measured. "It's what follows me around."

So Billy spent every hour locked in his shed, curls tucked over a growing body of work. Fingers turned rotten with charcoal soot as he made sense of what happened.

Steve liked to watch him work.

Liked to see the tension ease more and more from the strong shoulders that travelled beside him up the stairs each night. Steve felt the dig of each pencil in the crevice between his ribs when Billy finished masterpiece after masterpiece.

Still, it wasn't enough.

Along the ridges of creation, therapy lay half buried in the sand. It was state mandated, that Billy go and learn how to deal with the things charcoal couldn't straighten out for him. Like the nightmares, and the migraines that kept him from eating dinner at the table when June gave way to July.

Steve worried. Constantly, fervently, but Billy refused to go, always wiping his hands on the powder green apron Steve got for him at the art store, and insisting, "This is a form of therapy." Billy gestured around the room. To the mountains of loose sketch papers and half finished canvases that lay strewn across every surface. "This is how I cope."

And it was.

And it happened the same way every time.

Things got bad for him and Billy would disappear into his shed. Steve would come home from the office to find that his mother's prized Thomas Kincaid collection had been replaced by Billy's work. It was haunting. Sick and twisted and so, so beautiful.

He found himself standing and staring at it for hours, eyes tracing over the swirling lines of purgatory.

It made Steve feel helpless, but.

Still, Billy refused to go. Still, he buried himself in his work. Still, he painted himself into a hole.

The path toward recovery was littered with charcoal drawings until it wasn't.

Until Steve came home one afternoon to find Billy talking with a little boy who had his throat cut open.

#harringrove #psychological horror #idk man i just needed to get the words OUT #for Lis <3 #happy birthday honey bee

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dannypuro · 3 years

Note

Hi! In the last chapter and the 'Combeferre finds out that the idiots got their act together' bit you wrote recently, you mention that Combeferre picks Enjy up when hugging. First of all, that it adorable and I love it. Secondly, what was Enjy's reaction the first time that he did that? Also 'ferre repeatedly bullying bakers to make strawberry cakes for Enjy is perfect. Overall, something telling is awesome! Thank you so much for writing it!

(Hello! This is Something Telling verse (aka time-zapped, 1830s Enjolras, modern-era), and takes place somewhere between chapters 6 and 7. this ask has been sitting in my inbox for months, but i..... forgot that i had the draft sitting in my documents 😬. oops. anyways, thank you for sending it!!!!! here is the first Big Hug and best friends time. also.... exr pining, because it’s something telling and that’s the way it goes. but my asks are always open!!!! i accept all forms of questions and prompts!!!!!!)

“Combeferre’s coming back home tomorrow.”

Enjolras looks up from his book. He would not truly say that he had been reading it, per se, not since Grantaire returned from a morning of boxing with Bahorel in naught but a- a tank top, Enjolras believes he had called it, but the name of it is, in his opinion, much less significant than the way in which it clings to his back with lingering sweat, the way in which he can see the edge of his collarbone, the curve of his shoulders, the way-

Well. He had certainly been looking at his book. For the most part.

He clears his throat. “Pardon?” He manages.

Grantaire, thank the Lord, does not seem to notice his momentary… distraction. He sets his phone down. “Combeferre’s gonna be back from Morocco tomorrow. Joly says his flight comes in at four.”

Enjolras does what he can to parse that--even still, after weeks in this time, he cannot shake the semblance of strangeness, of unfamiliarity, that coats the words of everyone he meets. Even Grantaire, especially Grantaire, sounds, at times, as though he is speaking an unfamiliar tongue. (He wishes--God above, he wishes--to know it as he knows his own. To know Grantaire’s words, to know Grantaire, without the boundary of concentration required, without having to ask questions that must sound hopelessly stupid to everyone else in the world. To Grantaire. But-) “His… flight?”

Granaire grimaces. Enjolras nearly wishes that he had not asked at all, aside from the fact that he does not understand. “Um. Okay. So.” He looks about himself, swears. Enjolras fights the urge to shrink in on himself, to tell Grantaire that it does not matter, to bury his nose back in his book. Only, then Grantaire sits down beside him upon the sofa, so. Perhaps he will not withdraw his question. “Um. Wait. Okay.” He draws in a breath. “Fuck.”

He flushes hot. “You need not explain if it is troublesome,” he mutters.

Grantaire swears again. Enjolras fidgets with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. “Um. So like. You know a boat?”

“A boat.” Surely, Grantaire is not asking if-

He nods, eyes wide and genuine and- and fucking caring. His shoulders are rather close to Enjolras’s own. He is still wearing no sleeves.

He forces himself to breathe in, then out. “Yes,” he says, “I know of boats.” He does what he can to keep the ice from his tone--he cannot say for sure whether or not he succeeds.

Grantaire winces. “Oh. Yeah. Fuck. Obviously, sorry, I- Anyways, it’s like a boat that’s in the sky?”

Enjolras clears his throat. “You have lost me,” he admits. He does not feel guilty for doing so, for he is fairly certain that the fault does not fall upon him, in this rare instance.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Okay. Um. Picture, like, a giant metal tube?” That means nothing. Enjolras nods, anyways. “RIght, and then imagine that, like, a bunch of people go into it and then it flies to somewhere else in the world really, really fast. And then you get out of the tube.”

And-

Ah. Of course. Grantaire is making some sort of joke, some mockery at Enjolras’s expense. He scowls. “I do not appreciate it when you make light of the fact that I do not understand your time, Grantaire. You know this.”

Grantaire sputters. He looks- not guilty, not truly, but regretful enough that Enjolras cannot help but to regret a bit of the harshness in his words.

He sighs. “It is not- It is fine. Only- I haven’t really any other way to learn these things, but to ask you, and so I do not-” He shakes his head. “It is fine.”

“No!” It is sudden, just a mite louder than Enjolras had been expecting--he startles, despite his efforts. Grantaire curses, then curses again, but softer, and then says, “Enj, no, I wouldn’t, I’m not, just-” he fumbles for his phone, prods at it for a few moments, then holds it out to Enjolras. “I wouldn’t,” he says, again.

Enjolras squints down at the phone. The glass is illuminated, showing- Well, it does seem to be a large tube, as Grantaire had said, but he still does not-

The vessel in the video lifts off of the ground. He turns to Grantaire with a start. “There- There are people within?”

He nods. “It’s a plane. An airplane. Lots of people take them.”

Enjolras feels rather as though he is going to be ill. He cannot tear his eyes from the phone. “And Combeferre shall be… inside of one? As it flies?” His hands have taken to shaking; try as he might, he cannot seem to still them. He hands the phone back to Grantaire, instead, presses his palms to the cushions of the sofa.

Grantaire nods again, and keeps talking, but Enjolras cannot- he cannot quite manage to pay mind to what he says, for-

Oh, but he does not fancy that idea at all, of a man being- being propelled through the air, as such. Particularly if the man in question is Combeferre, for Enjolras has only just met him, has only just managed to befriend him, and Combeferre is terribly kind and frightfully intelligent and funny in a way that makes Courfeyrac groan but that Enjolras quite likes, actually, and-

“Enjolras?”

“I-” his voice cracks; he tries again. “I feel I must voice my concern.”

Grantaire pauses, frowns. Enjolras feels somewhat as though he has said something foolish--but then, he often feels such, and this is too important for him to rescind, even if Grantaire does think him a fool, and- “Because of the plane?”

He nods. “I only think that-” he swallows, starts again. “It only seems as though it would be rather- rather hazardous, would it not be simpler for him to travel by ship? Surely- Surely there is much less risk of-” he breaks off, manages a jerky shrug.

There is a pause.

“Oh,” Grantaire says, soft.

He shrugs again, though he is fairly certain that it is not particularly convincing.

Grantaire is looking at him… oddly. Something squirms beneath his skin. “I mean- Enjolras, hey, he’ll be okay,” he says, but-

“You cannot know that,” Enjolras snaps, and he regrets it, as soon as he has, but he cannot seem to make himself stop, just yet, either. “I was not aware that you were an expert in- in aired plains.”

Annoyingly, relievingly, predictably, Grantaire does not even flinch, he just looks a little sadder. Damn it all. (He also presses a little closer, his arm bared against Enjolras’s own, damn it, damn it.) “People fly all the time,” he reasons.

“Foolish people,” he spits out. “Fools and- and geese, only, would elect to do such a thing.” He is being ridiculous, he knows it, but oh, he does not like this one bit, not at all. “Men are not pigeons.”

“Men aren’t fish, either,” Grantaire jostles him, gently. Enjolras fights the urge to lean into it. “We still have boats, though, dude. Continual progress, and all that?”

“And yet, if a boat sinks, its passengers do not find themselves plummeting to the earth, dude.”

Grantaire snorts a laugh.

“I do not find it humorous, Grantaire!”

“Sorry.” Grantaire draws in a breath, scrubs a hand over his face. “Sorry, yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

He huffs.

Grantaire hesitates, and then settles an arm about his shoulders. As though Enjolras would ever deny him that--as though he could ever quell that selfish, poorly-hidden bit inside of him that relishes in the warmth, the closeness, the impropriety of the act. “Want me to call him?” he offers, and again, Enjolras is selfish, and he nearly-

Nearly agrees, nearly jumps on the offer like he knows he shouldn’t, for he- he misses Combeferre, and he does not like the idea of him hurtling about through the sky, and yet-

“No,” he says, “You needn’t.” He swallows. “You needn’t bother Combeferre, when he is surely quite busy with his family. I would not wish to impose.” This is the polite thing to do, he reassures himself, Combeferre will be fine, and simply because he is one of Enjolras’s dearest friends does not mean that he does, or ought, hold similar ground in Combeferre’s heart, and it is fine.

It is fine.

Grantaire looks… sad, almost; it makes something ache deep beneath Enjolras’s ribs. “Enjolras-” he begins-

“It is fine.”

“Enj-”

Enjolras opens his book rather pointedly. Grantaire stops talking, but he doesn’t- he doesn’t actually remove his arm from Enjolras’s shoulders.

And.

Well.

Enjolras certainly shan’t be the one to remind him that it isn’t quite proper.

Enjolras is poor company the following morning, he is aware of this.

Being aware of it does not, however, quite mean that he is able to bring himself to do anything to correct his comportement. Rather, he leans his cheek upon his hand and picks at a whorl in the tabletop and does what he can not to flinch at the sound of a truck being unloaded outside the window, at the spray of grapeshot which fits so seamlessly into each echo that he cannot quite manage to convince himself that it is not real. (It was real, is real, in a way, but he cannot- he cannot think on that, not now, not when he already has so much to think on.)

Grantaire-

Grantaire is speaking to him, he realizes, from the kitchen, but he does not notice it until it is too late, until he can catch no more than “-up to you, really,” and then, because Enjolras has taken too long to speak, taken too long to parse what he would even be talking about, “Enjolras?” He pokes his head out of the doorway. (He is sleep-rumpled, soft, concerned.)

Damn it, damn it.

He clears his throat. “I apologize,” he manages. “I’m afraid that I was not quite listening.”

At times, he wishes- he wishes that Grantaire would just grow tired of him, of his horrid behavior, instead of being so endlessly kind; that, at least, Enjolras would know what to do with. (At times, Enjolras is so afraid that it will happen that he thinks he would give anything not to ever think of it again.) As it is, Grantaire frowns. “I just- I just wanted to know what you want for breakfast, I don’t- Enj, are you okay?”

Oh. He must look rather poorly. He had not, after all, gotten much sleep at all the night before; he supposes that he had been hoping that it would not show on his face. (It is a vain thought, as well, which is vaguely infuriating. Before he met Grantaire, he so rarely thought about things so inconsequential as exhaustion.) “You may cook what you choose. It matters not.”

Grantaire crosses his arms. His shirt is very thin.

Enjolras presses his wrists to the table to stop his hands from shaking as he glares back. It nearly works.

Grantaire, infuriatingly, says nothing.

He grits his teeth, then sighs. “I slept poorly. This is all.”

Grantaire pauses, at that. Enjolras takes a moment to wonder as to whether he has had any coffee, this morning--likely not. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. “This is about Combeferre,” he says, at last, once he has collected himself.

Damn it.

Enjolras should have elected to become enamored by somebody who is less perceptive.

Not that-

Not that he is enamored, of course.

He forces a quiet laugh, hopes that it is convincing enough to draw the furrow from Grantaire’s brow. It is not. “I- I am being foolish,” he admits, eventually. “As you said, Combeferre will be fine.” It does not sound particularly convincing, even from his own mouth. Especially from his own mouth. Part of him wishes that Grantaire would say it again, instead.

His hands are still shaking. Perhaps, he finds himself thinking, they will carry on this way forever; it is difficult to imagine that he could ever fire a rifle straight, anymore.

No matter.

Grantaire makes an odd noise at the back of his throat.

“It is fine,” Enjolras reminds him, for if he does not stop looking so very wretched Enjolras may- not cry, likely, but- but it stings, in any case. “I simply. Well. Combeferre is a good man, and I- Well. Ah. You see, he- He has told me that I am his friend, and I haven’t terribly many friends, aside from you, and I know that you trust these- these aired plains, but I cannot seem to bring myself to do so, and so I- I am simply rather anxious. It is nothing serious.” (Enjolras thinks of a young man, a boy, far younger than Combeferre, at his feet with his jaw shot off and his hand wrapped like a vise around his ankle, of blood soaking into the seams of his boots, of the spray of grapeshot against brick and against bone, and-)

Grantaire looks, if anything, more distressed than before. Heavens, but Enjolras is poor at this. “I should call Combeferre,” he says, resolutely. He fumbles for his phone. “Yeah, I should-”

“I would not have you do so.” It comes out just on the side of too sharp, but Grantaire does not startle, he simply winces, as though pained. “There is no need to disturb him by imposing, as such. So kindly do not.”

He returns his phone to his pocket. “Okay. Um.” He does not return to the kitchen; rather, he continues to linger, uncertain in a way in which Enjolras is not accustomed to seeing him. “Do you want anything for breakfast? Like, anything specific?”

And, well, in the spirit of absolute frankness, Enjolras does not--he is not particularly hungry at all, but-

But he is beginning to get to know Grantaire a little better, now, and he is beginning to guess that cookery means a bit more to him than it does to most others, and perhaps, perhaps, this is something that he needs to be able to do for Enjolras, right now.

Enjolras may be selfish, may be too cruel in ways that he cannot avoid, but he can give Grantaire this. He thinks on it, but he does not truly-

Ah.

Well, perhaps- Perhaps he is not completely without cravings. “Have we any more of the lamb sausage which you purchased at the market the other day?” he hazards.

Grantaire beams. (Enjolras’s heart flutters like a small, helpless bird.) “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, man, totally.”

He returns to the kitchen to make Enjolras breakfast. Enjolras tries very, very hard not to think of the way in which the soft, strong set to Combeferre’s jaw so resembles that of the boy whose hand he still feels around his ankle, before it got shot off. It nearly works.

It is not until mid-afternoon that he- that he truly cannot stand it, cannot calm his heart where it hammers out a stuttering rhythm in his chest; cannot still his hands from shaking, even for a moment; cannot bring himself to read, to write, to sit calmly; cannot manage to drive his mind from thoughts of fire and of life lost and of the sharp spray of grapeshot and of horrible, ridiculous contraptions plummeting to the earth, and-

“I would have you call Combeferre now, I believe,” he blurts out, when Grantaire has looked up from his phone to note him standing in the doorway of the parlor. “I- I believe that I- I cannot quite- I-” He forces himself to draw in a breath, but it catches in his lungs, freezes there- “I- that is, I-” He looks to Grantaire helplessly.

He had not been expecting for Grantaire’s face to drop, so. Or for him to curse, and scrub a hand over his face, and say, “Oh, Enj, I don’t-”

Enjolras does not understand what he has done wrong, but it- it is clearly something, but he does not-

Grantaire curses again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I should’ve- I should’ve told you earlier, but I can’t- Fuck. You can’t call somebody when they’re on an airplane, the call won’t go through. Everybody has to turn their phones off when they’re in the air, and Combeferre’s flight would have taken off an hour ago.”

He does not understand.

“So I… cannot call him,” he begins, for it is easier to start with something that he knows and work backwards, “That- Why?” It makes no sense. What is the use of such- such foolish devices, if one cannot even contact one’s friends when it is necessary?

Grantaire grimaces. “It’s something to do with the networks, I think? Like, the signal from the phone tower messes with the instruments and the navigation and shit. Or, like, maybe it’s too high up to get a signal, or something, but I don’t really know about…” He fades off.

Enjolras feels, oddly, as though he may cry.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire says, so softly that he does not know what to do with himself, and then Grantaire is on his feet in an instant, and Enjolras finds himself being pulled into an embrace that is warm and gut-wrenchingly close and better than anything he has ever deserved.

He draws in a deep, shuddering breath and lets Grantaire tug him in closer still, presses his nose to the curve of Grantaire’s neck and cannot even manage to think of the impropriety, not when Grantaire’s arms are so warm around his back, his shoulders.

He would apologize, but Grantaire always seems a little bit sadder, whenever he does so, so he figures that it would be rather counterintuitive, all things considered.

“He’s gonna be alright, you know,” Grantaire murmurs against his hair. “I know you don’t- I know I can’t really do anything to make you believe that, right now, but I promise he is. Planes are safer than cars.”

What a horrifying thought. Enjolras is quite glad that Grantaire cannot drive a car. He does not mention this; instead, he allows himself to wrap his arms around Grantaire in return, to clutch at the back of his shirt and be held closer still. “Okay,” he manages.

Grantaire hums; Enjolras can feel it, deep in his chest. “Wanna watch a documentary?”

“Okay,” says Enjolras, though he does not think that he can bear to do anything, aside from to stay here, like this, with Grantaire’s arm’s around him.

“Cool,” says Grantaire, but he does not move to let him go for a long, long time.

They watch a documentary.

Or. Well. Grantaire watches a documentary. Enjolras sits beside him and leans his head on his shoulder and does what he can to focus on the weight of his arm around his shoulders instead of the weight in his chest. It does very little to calm the way in which his heart races, but it serves, at the very least, as a distraction, as something by which he can mark the hours that slog by.

He would feel guilty for imposing, as such, were it not for the fact that Grantaire holds him so closely that it does not seem possible that it is for Enjolras’s benefit alone.

It helps, he thinks.

There is a crash outside, all metal and glass; there is the jolt of a carbine under his hand and the spray of gunshot against brick, against bone, and he is staring down the barrel of his rifle at a young man with soft features who is staring back at him down the barrel of a cannon, and he can feel the ticking of a pocket watch deep in his palm, and-

There is another sound, sharp and odd, and it takes Enjolras just an instant too long to realize that it has come from Grantaire’s phone. He startles; Grantaire, mystifyingly, takes the moment to run his fingers through Enjolras’s hair, as though gentling a particularly skittish horse, or perhaps a feral barn-cat. He would be rather insulted, he figures, were it not for the fact that it seems to still something frantic beneath his ribs.

“Combeferre’s flight just landed.” It is soft, blurred at the edges, as though Grantaire had been drifting off to sleep over the course of the moving. Perhaps he had--perhaps that would account for the way in which he had settled so comfortably against Enjolras. (Enjolras is not accustomed to people being comfortable around him; he finds he- he likes it. Particularly when it is Grantaire.)

He clears his throat. “Ah,” he says.

Grantaire hums.

“And- And all is well?” he hazards, and he- he does not even know how he would begin to ask more, what he would even say in a demand for more information, but he-

He-

“Huh?” Grantaire scrubs a hand over his face. (Enjolras becomes more convinced of the fact that he had been half-asleep, only moments before. His heart stutters, uneven, in his chest.) “Oh, yeah, dude, totally normal flight. Everything went fine.”

“Good.” He tries, then, to exhale, to relax, but cannot quite manage it. Damn this new constitution of his, damn that it never lets him fucking rest, damn that it does not ever leave him be. (Damn that he- that he seems to have lost, somewhere along the way, any shred of the dignity which he used to be able to hold so easily, damn it, damn it. He shall have to work on it, somehow. He shall have to, if he is to keep living alongside Grantaire, and if his heart is to continue to beat such a frantic pace in his chest at his touch.)

Grantaire opens his mouth to speak; Enjolras knows what he will say, what he will offer, before he says anything at all, and- and yes, he wants it, all of it, for he is selfish, and he wishes for Grantaire to call Combeferre, and for Grantaire to embrace him again, and for Combeferre to go out of his way to visit he and Grantaire’s apartment instead of returning to his own, and absolutely none of it is his to ask. “Do you want-” begins Grantaire, and Enjolras pulls himself to his feet despite his every impulse resisting to do so.

“I believe that I shall go read for a time in my own chambers,” he blurts out, before Grantaire can protest, and then he goes to do so.

He wants for Grantaire to follow him, too, to persuade him back to the sitting room, to call Combeferre anyways, but does not, of course he does not.

Damn it.

And then-

Enjolras makes it three more hours of his heart hammering away in his chest, of gritting his teeth against the feel of a hand on his ankle, of hearing flashes of grapeshot in the rumble of the vehicles below his window. It is a very admirable length of time, in his opinion; his hands have been shaking so hard throughout it that his forearms have taken to aching.

He ought to wait. He ought simply call on Combeferre tomorrow. There is no need for him to visit unannounced, particularly when he has been traveling, and when Grantaire has assured him that Combeferre has arrived safely, and when there is no reason for concern but for the fact that he seems to have thoroughly lost all sense of rationality, somewhere between the window and the cobblestone, back in June, and-

He sets his book down on the side-table and reaches for his jacket--he was not truly reading it; it is not truly cold. But he- he is frightened, and he is not used to this fucking century, with its- its aired plains, and its bared arms, and he understands none of it at all and he--he tugs on his shoes, does not bother to undo and retie the laces--he is tired, and he would like to see his friend, and-

“Hey, were you reading with the lights off, again?” Grantaire asks, hopelessly concerned, when Enjolras leaves his chambers--and it is jarring, sudden, and he is frozen in place in the hall, for a moment, as he runs the words over in his mind- “Wait, where are you-”

There is a knock at the door.

That-

That is odd.

On the sofa, Grantaire frowns. “Were you expecting-”

Enjolras shakes his head.

“Weird,” says Grantaire.

It is weird. Enjolras goes to answer the door, unlocks it, and-

“Hi,” says Combeferre, who is beaming and who is there, in the doorway, and who is fine, and safe, and-

“Hello,” says Enjolras, and he finds himself unable to keep the sheer relief from his voice, nor a watery smile from rising to his cheeks, and then he is being pulled into an embrace that is so tight his ribs ache.

“I missed you,” Combeferre says, presses against his temple, and then he finds himself being lifted off of the ground, feet dangling, as Combeferre holds him tight. He-

He has never been held, as such, before.

Enjolras’s heart stutters; he swallows down something thick in his throat. “I-” He swallows again.

Combeferre, then, seems to realize that he has been holding Enjolras some distance from the ground. He sets him down somewhat sheepishly. “Sorry,” he says, “I wasn’t-”

“I have missed you as well,” he blurts out, somewhat too loud, somewhat too brusque. He fidgets with the hem of his jacket, fingers twitching. “Very much so, I-” He looks to Combeferre, wills him to- to understand, to-

Combeferre pulls him into another embrace, and Enjolras presses his face to his shoulder and holds him in return.

“How fares your family?” He asks, after a long moment.

Combeferre musses his hair as he lets him go. “Good. Numerous. I’ll show you a picture of my sister’s kid, she just started walking, and it’s- Actually, have you eaten? My mom made me take some pastilla back with me on the plane and I didn’t know what to do with it, so I brought it over here with me.”

He… He has not eaten, he realizes, and he shakes his head. Grantaire must not have wished to disturb him. Which- “Did Grantaire request you visit?”

Combeferre herds him into the kitchen. “No? Should he have?” He pulls a container made of square glass from his satchel; Enjolras fetches three plates, though he does not know if Grantaire has eaten. (He has not, most likely--he has come to realize that Grantaire tends to wait, now, tends not to cook unless it is for the both of them. He does not know what to think of that.)

He shrugs. “I was… concerned,” he admits. “Because of the aired plain. I thought that perhaps Grantaire informed you.”

He frowns. “No, I-” His eyes dip to look Enjolras over, then- “You were totally on your way out the door when I arrived, weren’t you?” It is not a question.

“It is not of your affairs,” he tries, “Perhaps I was simply on my way to the convenience store. You do not know.”

“You were.” Combeferre is no longer frowning. Instead, a grin has risen to his face; Enjolras has only this as warning before he grabs for him, pulls him into a rough embrace before Enjolras can evade his grasp. “You were, you missed me. Admit it.”

Enjolras feigns struggle, hides his own smile against Combeferre’s arm. “Leave me. Release me at once.”

“Admit it, admit you missed me.” Combeferre holds him tighter, musses his hair further. “Admit it and I’ll let you go.”

“Absolutely not,” Enjolras says. He struggles a bit more, though mostly only so that he is in a more comfortable position for Combeferre to continue to hold him close.

“You’ve done this to yourself,” says Combeferre. Enjolras simply rests his forehead against his shoulder and shuts his eyes. Only for a moment. They shall eat Combeferre’s mother’s pastilla in a moment. He can hear Grantaire watching television in the other room; Combeferre’s arms around him are warm and comforting. Just-

A moment.

#something telling #exr #les miserables #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #combeferre #les mis #exr fanfiction #enjoltaire fanfiction #writing #les miserables fanfiction #Anonymous

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hoetachi · 4 years

Text

NINTENHOE + Kenma Kozume

mulan’s input; wtf did i just spend two weeks on? this shit is ASS 😭😭 anyways nintenhoe by doja inspired this for some reason summary; [College AU] kenma comes across your stream, yet stays for a different reason warnings; masturbation, slightly cursing, mention of degradation kink. genre; smut

“yo kenma, find us a stream to watch. i’m gonna go run to the store to get some more snacks”

That what kuroo said before leaving their dorm 30 minutes ago. In all honesty, he lowkey forgot he was supposed to be looking for something how distracted he got by his game he was playing.

Getting up from his bed, he stretched before reaching over to his nightstand to set his LED lights to red. He strolled towards his gaming chair that was tucked into his desk neatly and drop himself in it as he immediately typed away, entering the site’s name, where thousands of streams took place all at once.

5 minutes being on the site turned into 10 then 15 and, after clicking on a few more channels and then clicking off once they began to bore him, he sunk back into his seat once he returned to the discover page. Lazily gazing over the different boxes and seeing who he already visited and who he found boring. He was about to exit out of the website once nothing caught his attention right away until his eyes seemed to land on one box different from the others. “nintenhoey/n?” his usual monotone voice now filled with curiosity. Have he heard that name before, but somewhere else? it seemed familiar, but he couldn’t exactly remember from where.

Instead of busting his brain about it, he decided to reach for the mouse once again and kenma clicked onto your box and immediately entered your chat room. Your set up was very appealing to him along with the game you chose to play.

“Can you guys hear me? yes? that’s wonderful! anyways, welcome to the stream!” You greeted causing a few people in the chat send emojis or greets back. Kenma was caught completely off his guard when he saw his screen illuminated with your image, the live feed starting as your face lit up, noticing his handle. “Kenma? wait kenma from volleyball?” You questioned not fighting back the giddy smile on your lips. Sending a quick cat emoji before he leaned back and soaked in your recognition. Someone actually knew him as him and not as kuroo’s antisocial friend; honestly, he didn’t know how to react to knowing that but it did indeed felt refreshing for him

The reason why your handle sounded so familiar was because you’re the girl two doors down from him that always leaves little delicious snacks for him and kuroo after a long day of practice every wednesday. He never really payed attention to people who he wasn’t close with but damn, he was missing out because look at you. The hot pink lighting made your brown skin glimmer like little stars and your twists complimented you well, along with your glossy lipgloss. “I truly do hope you enjoy those watermelon bites i made you and kuroo yesterday. I was honestly just trying yesterday and my mind went you and your flirt of a teammate” for some reason that little statement made his body go hot for a second. A girl was thinking about him. but not just any girl, a very pretty and nice girl was thinking about him

“Anyways, sorry to get sidetracked with a volleyball genius. I’m so glad you guys decided to tune in again,” You leaned back in your chair, giving kenma and your audience better view of the college crop top you wore along with some shorts. You looked incredible, the very sight of your thighs alone made kenma blush from his body’s reaction. Now he had to sit and wait for kuroo with a semi-hard erection from his stupid raging hormones. “Okay that’s enough goofing around. Time to game and i truly need to focus with this one, i heard it was a rage game so please excuse my mouth in advance.” You gave the chat one last gentle smile, which made his heart beat a bit faster, before immersing yourself in your game.

During the stream, his eyes kept drifting to you. It wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose, he couldn’t help find you attractive. Your personality wasn’t too biggish like hinata’s or obnoxious like lev’s; you were easygoing with a good sense humor that he liked quite a lot.

He barely knew you, yet you were the main thing he could focus on. However he was quickly pulled from his thoughts when you decided to pause your game and get up and stretch. He truly wondered if you knew how much your shorts is showing off when you touch your toes like that while you stretch? You’re basically showing your ass off, and it was starting to make him a bit hotter in his seat.

Damn, he’s already hard. The thick lusty air causing his body to heat up was nothing compared to the heat of his blood rushing down to his cock. Kenma slowly helped himself out of his sweats quickly, freeing up his legs so he can sit sorta comfortably with his throbbing shaft.

The urge to touch himself was tempting. It only became irresistible once you resumed your game and started letting out little curses here and there with agitated groans. He wonders if you act the sane way once the camera is off and you pleasure yourself. Do you keep that same determine glared as you shift your delicious thighs away from each other so you can fit your fingers between them. Or you’re as vocal when you’re by yourself petting your puffy lips as you aim for your climax.

At this point kenma couldn’t hold back such urges. Tugging his boxers to his knees, kenma wrapped his slender fingers around his cock and slides his hand up the shaft, moving slowly to reach his draw and pour some of the lube, kuroo gifted him as a joke, on his tip so he can indulge in the slippery texture. Moving his half lidded eyes to the controller you gripped frustratedly. Your hands were small yet they look like they would stroke him so well with your tight hold you had. You probably didn’t develop calluses like him from holding your controller with such strain, so they were probably much more softer than his.. and pleasurable.

Hazily gazing over you with desire and lust, more scenarios and wonders filled his head about your body. Bunching up his shirt and biting the ends to muffle his moans from his fellow dorm mates, lebma went to work on himself. Envisioning you ride and bounce on him had panting like a dog in heat. He wanted you bad, so fucking bad he decided to use his lust clouded judgement to get you to help reach his own pleasure.

Quickly, typing in his comment and pressing send he was pleased with the response he got, “you wouldn’t be surprise if i used these same words in a different scenario? kenny, baby you didn’t hear about my degradation kink? i thought everyone in the chat knew?” you said with smug on your face. He didn’t know if you were being serious or not, but don’t think that didn’t have him stroking faster at the thought of you calling him all the names you groaned out during you gameplay

“y’all are just some sluts for my rage” you chuckled into your mic as you glanced at the chat box

Biting harder on his t-shirt his breaths became more and more ridged as he comes closer to this climax. Every little thing you were doing was driving him further and further. The voice in his head kept repeating how you would call him all kinds of names if you ever found out about doing such a disgusting act as you streamed.

After a few more strokes, he released his load. He was quite surprised by how much he came from you, “good stream or...?” kuroo smirked as he dropped a bag the desk. Scrambling to pull up his pants, he avoided eye contact with his roommate “good thing i told her you were free tomorrow”

#{👅}— 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐌𝐂𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 #haikyuu #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #haikyuu smut #hq kenma

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buckybarnesdollface · 3 years

Text

Traditions: Chapter 1

Summary: Bucky has nowhere to go for the holidays, so reader invites him to come home to spend Christmas with her family. Christmas cuteness ensues.

Warnings: None, just fluff in this chapter, female reader

“So, what are everyone’s plans for Christmas?” Pepper asked everyone as soon as the debriefing meeting had ended. The team had just gotten back from a mission in South Africa, and were in desperate need of a distraction.

As expected, Tony and Pepper were spending Christmas with Morgan at their cabin. Clint and Scott were also spending Christmas with their kids, and Peter was spending it with May and MJ. Sam was going back to Harlem to spend the holidays with his parents, and Thor would be in New Asgard with his people. Rhodey was also spending it with his parents, and Bruce was going to Germany to be a key speaker at a science seminar for nuclear physicists. Wanda and Vision were spending their Christmas in London, and Steve and Natasha – still in the honeymoon phase of their new relationship – were headed to Hawaii until the new year.

“I’ll be heading to Maine to spend Christmas with my family,” I said when everyone looked to me. “My mom would kill me if I didn’t come home for the holidays.”

“What about you, Buck?” Sam asked, drawing everyone’s attention to the supersoldier at Steve’s side who, up until now, had been very quiet and subdued. He shrugged, his face unreadable.

“I dunno, I don’t really have plans,” he mumbled. “I’ll probably just hang out here, or maybe head into the city. I always loved Christmas in New York.”

Tony stood and clapped his hands together. “Excellent, now that everyone’s had a chance to share, why don’t we all get some rest?” he said. “It’s been a long week and I’m sure we’re all exhausted.” He grinned. “Enjoy your holidays, everyone, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Pepper set a hand on my arm as I was gathering up the paperwork from the meeting. “You did good, kid,” she told me, and I beamed shyly. As Pepper’s assistant I was often in the loop of what was going on with the team, but this was the first mission that she’d given me the reins and I had been so nervous. Hearing her praise had my chest swelling.

“Thank you, Pepper,” I breathed. “Really, it means so much.”

She gave me a warm smile. “You’re officially part of the team, kiddo,” she murmured. “Have a good Christmas. I’ll see you in the new year.”

“Merry Christmas, Pepper.”

As Pepper caught up with Tony, I found my eyes scanning the conference room for a certain dark-haired supersoldier. He was just ducking out the door when I spotted him, and I quickly tucked the papers under my arm before following him.

“Bucky!” I called, and he turned and stopped, waiting for me to catch up. He gave me a small smile when I did.

“What’s up, doll?” he asked. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and his face drawn. Though his lips were still curved in a friendly smile his eyes were sad, and I frowned, fighting the urge to pull him tight to me and hug him. Instead, I shook my head.

“Are you really gonna stay here over Christmas?” I asked him, and he shrugged.

“Why not?”

I pursed my lips. “Because you’ll be alone,” I protested, and Bucky’s friendly expression faltered. Finally, he sighed and shook his head.

“What choice do I have, (Y/N)?” he said. “I have no family to spend it with, and all my friends have plans with their own families and loved ones. That leaves just me.” Again, he shrugged. “I’m used to being alone, I’ll be fine.”

Bucky was trying hard to seem carefree about it, and to most people it probably would have worked. But since becoming Pepper’s assistant eight months ago, I had developed friendships with everyone on the team, especially Steve and Bucky. So I could see the pain in the set of Bucky’s shoulders and in the depths of his eyes even if his expression and voice didn’t show it. Hesitantly, I reached out to set a hand on Bucky’s arm. He hadn’t yet changed out of his tactical gear and the fabric of his jacket was stiff under my palm.

“No one should be alone on Christmas,” I said softly. “You have plenty of friends who wouldn’t mind you joining them for the holiday.”

Bucky snorted. “Steve offered for me to go to Hawaii with him and Nat,” he said, “but I declined. I didn’t think being a third wheel would be a great way to spend Christmas.”

“I didn’t mean Steve.”

“What?” I watched as realization dawned across Bucky’s features. “(Y/N), I couldn’t… This is your time with your family, I can’t intrude on that. Besides, I can’t imagine they’d be okay with having me there…”

But I was shaking my head, having already made up my mind. “Don’t be ridiculous, they’ll be happy to have you. I’ll call my mom tonight to let her know to get one more bedroom ready.” I grinned. “Now go get some rest and pack your things, we leave tomorrow at noon.”

Before Bucky had time to argue, I headed towards mine and Pepper’s offices to dispense of the paperwork under my arm. This was certainly going to be an interesting Christmas, to say the least.

As I had expected, my mom was happy to have Bucky there for Christmas once I explained the situation to her. So, that was how him and I found ourselves in first class seats on a flight to Bangor, courtesy of Tony and Pepper. Tony had offered to let us take a quinjet, but when we both declined, he insisted to at least pay for our tickets.

Bucky was silent most of the flight, and I could tell he was nervous. Biting my lip, I nudged my knee with his.

“You keep shaking your leg like that and you’re gonna have the whole plane shaking,” I teased. A flush crept up his neck to his face and his leg stopped abruptly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just…People are staring.”

I had been well-aware of the looks we’d gotten as soon as we boarded the plane. Bucky tended to draw attention wherever he went – Even if he weren’t Bucky Barnes, his towering six-foot-two frame of thick muscle and his strikingly handsome face were hard to ignore. He had hidden his vibranium arm underneath a black bomber jacket and leather gloves, and he had recently cut his long hair short, but it seemed everyone still knew who he was.

“You’re an Avenger,” I said with a shrug. “Of course they’re staring.”

“I’m the Winter Soldier,” he corrected sullenly. “They all know what I’ve done. They’re afraid of me.”

Pursing my lips, I reached over to take his flesh hand into mine. “Don’t focus on everyone else,” I told him, ignoring the surprise in his eyes when my fingers laced through his. “Focus on the amazing Christmas vacation we’re going to have. Focus on Christmas lights and building snowmen and cheesy Christmas music on the radio.”

Bucky let out a short huff of a laugh, but some of the tension had evaporated from his features. “Sounds like the plot for one of those silly Christmas movies that every channel on television plays all through December,” he said, and I flashed him a grin.

“You haven’t met my family. When it comes to Christmas, we’re as cheesy as they get.”

As I explained to Bucky what to expect when we got to my parents’ place, the stress visibly dissipated from his body, until he was laughing at the prospect of witnessing my father wearing a Santa hat and distributing presents from under the tree on Christmas morning.

Bucky’s laugh drew the attention of a few people around us, and before he could realize that people were once again staring, I shot them a glare that could have frozen hell. They shrank back in their seats and Bucky and I continued our conversation, him none the wiser to what had just happened.

My parents were waiting for us when we got off the plane in Bangor. As soon as my mother caught sight of me, she threw her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug.

“(Y/N), I’m so glad you’re home,” she exclaimed. “Your brother and sister are already at the house; they’ll be so glad to see you.”

“I missed you too, Mom,” I chuckled, and then I turned to embrace my dad.

“Hey, kid,” he said. “How was your flight?”

“Good.” I shrugged. “Tony upgraded us to first class, so that was nice.” I turned to find that Bucky had retrieved our luggage from the baggage claim and was now standing awkwardly off to one side. Shaking my head, I went over and grabbed him by the arm to pull him into the group. “Mom, Dad, this is Bucky Barnes,” I introduced. “Bucky, these are my parents.”

Bucky shook each of their hands, making sure to use his flesh hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. (Y/L/N),” he murmured. “And thank you so much for having me. I know it was very last-minute, and I really appreciate it.”

“It’s our pleasure, really. The more the merrier,” my mom said cheerfully. “And please, call us John and Karey.”

Bucky nodded shyly, and then once again grabbed our luggage. I reached for my suitcase, but Bucky shook his head as he pulled it out of my reach. “I’ve got it,” he insisted, and I frowned.

“But it’s heavy –”

“Maybe for you.” Bucky winked and then lifted my suitcase above his waist as if it weighed no more than a purse. I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as the Bucky I knew peeked through his anxious exterior.

“Show-off,” I muttered.

“Don’t be sour, doll,” Bucky said over his shoulder as he followed my parents out to the parking lot. “Jealousy isn’t becoming.”

I wanted to respond to his comment with something sarcastic or witty, but was too happy seeing him at ease that I decided against it and instead followed him and my parents to their truck.

The drive home was spent catching up with my parents; I hadn’t seen them since June, and my mom had so much to fill me in on. Bucky sat next to me in the backseat, and although he was politely listening to my mother ramble on about my uncle’s new puppy, I could tell he felt out of place. He spent a lot of time looking out the window in silence, and although I wanted to reach across the seat to take his hand, I knew that would likely only make him more uncomfortable and invite awkward questions from my parents.

“So, Bucky,” my dad said suddenly, and Bucky’s head snapped up, shocked to have been addressed directly. “How do you usually spend the holidays?”

Bucky’s face fell for only a split second before he composed himself again and his lips quirked up the tiniest bit at one corner. “Well, sir, if I’m being honest it’s been awhile since I’ve celebrated Christmas,” he admitted ruefully, and I could see my dad’s brow furrow in the rearview mirror. Before he could open his mouth and make this situation any more uncomfortable, I spoke.

“We’ll make sure this is one to remember, then,” I said to Bucky with a warm smile, in which he returned with his own small smile.

As we turned down the lane and drove up to the house, I couldn’t help but feel excited. As much as I loved New York and loved my job at the Avengers compound, I was a small-town girl at heart and I had missed the farm that I’d grown up on.

It hadn’t changed at all in my twenty-six years of life; the same big white farmhouse with the green shutters and the oak tree out front, the large yard, and the old red barn that at one time held horses but was now just used to store tractor parts. It had just snowed the night before, and everything was covered in a thin blanket of sparkling white. My parents had already put up most of the outdoor lights, but I saw that they had saved the big red pine. A smile lit up my face.

“Are we decorating the pine today?” I asked excitedly, and my mom grinned.

“You didn’t think we’d do it without you, did you?” she asked as we got out of the truck. Bucky gave me a questioning look and I grinned.

“We’ve decorated this tree as a family since we were little kids,” I explained. “Our ceilings were never high enough to have an enormous tree so we’d always decorate this one to be as stunning as the one inside.”

“That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard,” Bucky chuckled, and I couldn’t help the blush that warmed my cheeks. Ducking my head, I motioned towards the house.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to my brother and sister and give you a tour.”

I could tell as soon as my brother saw Bucky walk through the door that he was about to burst with excitement and a million questions – He had been obsessed with the Avengers long before I had become Pepper’s assistant. Remembering how uncomfortable Bucky had been at my dad’s unintentionally invasive questions, I shot Jeremy a look that told him to keep his mouth shut and give Bucky space.

To my relief, both Jeremy and Katie were polite and friendly when I introduced Bucky to them. I could see some of the tension ease out of his shoulders now that he had met my family and they’d accepted him, and I set a hand briefly on his arm.

“I’ll give you a tour of the house and then show you the room you’ll be staying in,” I told him, and he nodded before following me out of the foyer.

“This is my room,” I told him after we’d gone through the first floor and climbed the stairs. I pushed open the door and gestured for him to come in after he hesitated. The room hadn’t changed since I moved out at eighteen to go to college; originally my parents had planned to turn it into an office but they’d never gotten around to it, and so the Zac Efron posters and constellation-patterned bedsheets still remained.

Bucky picked up a stuffed Garfield off my desk and his lips tugged up into a smirk. “Cute,” he said, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Alright, out of here before you start picking apart everything in here,” I said, ushering Bucky to the door. He laughed, turning to grin at me.

“I wasn’t making fun of you, doll,” he chuckled. “I really did think it was cute. I think I would have liked to know the (Y/N) that liked stuffed animals and had posters of half-naked men on her walls.”

I snorted and shoved him playfully away from my room. “Yeah, well, you stick around here long enough and you’ll probably get to see her,” I told him wryly. “I tend to revert back to her when I’m home for any amount of time.”

Bucky’s answering smile was warm, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m looking forward to it,” he murmured, no hint of teasing left in his voice, and for some reason it had my cheeks hot and my stomach fluttering. After an awkward silence, I opened the door to the bedroom next to mine.

“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” I said, clearing my throat. “That way if you need anything during the night…” I trailed off, but the look on Bucky’s face told me that he knew I was referring to his nightmares. He offered me a small smile.

“It’s great, (Y/N), really.” He gave me a shy look. “Thank you for all of this. I would have been at the compound by myself watching Christmas movies on TV if it weren’t for you.”

“Well we couldn’t have that, now, could we?” I teased half-heartedly, but the atmosphere in the room had changed. The air between us was heavy with a feeling I couldn’t quite place my finger on; it was certainly not something I had felt around him before. I had always felt comfortable around Bucky, from the moment we met – I could be myself around him, and he himself around me. But now I felt myself struggling to find words to say and my stomach was in a constant flutter.

Luckily, the awkwardness was shattered by Katie calling up the stairs that they were going to decorate the pine tree whether Bucky and I were ready or not. Shooting each other sheepish grins, we both made to head to the staircase at the same time and bumped into each other in the door frame. Bucky stepped back.

“Ladies first,” he said graciously, and I blushed as I ducked past him.

“A little higher,” my mom said as my dad and Jeremy were on ladders stringing lights around the top of the pine tree. Katie and I were at the bottom, each trying to keep one of the ladders steady, as my mom directed the guys on where to hang the lights. Bucky was off to one side, watching us with a slightly amused expression.

“(Y/N), hold the ladder still, would ya?” my dad grumbled and I rolled my eyes dramatically. I could hear Katie snickering from the other side of the tree.

“It looks good enough, Mom,” Jeremy groaned, after my mom had told him to hang the lights from a different branch. “You won’t be able to tell in the dark which branch they’re hanging from anyway.”

Another argument about light placement ensued, and I couldn’t help but smile; it wasn’t tradition if at least four arguments didn’t take place while we were putting up the lights. After a bit more arguing and my dad and Jeremy doing some rearranging among heavy sighs, the lights were finally strung to my mother’s satisfaction.

“What about the star?” my mom asked as the men climbed down the ladders. I pulled the big silver star out of the tote we stored the lights in and turned to Bucky with a grin.

“I think we should let Bucky do it,” I said, and a smile brightened my mom’s face.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

I carried the star over and handed it to Bucky. He looked uncertain, like he wanted to argue against it, but I was already nudging him towards the tree. His cheeks pink, he climbed the ladder after a nod of encouragement from me, and gracefully set the star atop the highest bough of the tree.

After Bucky had climbed down the ladder and taken position at my side, my dad pulled the remote for the timer from his pocket, pressing a button and turning the lights on. I had seen it over a dozen times now, but it still filled me with warmth and happiness every time and I couldn’t help but smile like a little kid.

“Alright, it’s done and I’m cold,” Jeremy said. “Let’s go inside and get some food.”

“Can’t you just enjoy it for a minute?” my mom replied.

“It’s snowing!” Katie suddenly exclaimed, and we all looked up to the sky. It was indeed snowing, snowflakes falling from the sky softly and catching in the light from the tree. I turned to look at Bucky, who had his own childlike grin on his face.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed, stretching out his left arm to catch a few snowflakes on his leather-gloved hand. The vibranium underneath the leather was cool, preserving the snowflakes long enough to inspect their intricate designs.

“We might get a white Christmas for the first time in years,” I said in excitement, and Bucky grinned.

“Y’know, there was a time when we always had a white Christmas,” he chuckled, and I scrunched my nose at him.

“Yeah, yeah; c’mon, old man,” I teased, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the house where the others were already headed. “It’s getting cold and dark; let’s go in where it’s warm and make some hot cocoa.”

My mom had already turned the kettle on by the time we’d gotten inside and stripped off our jackets and boots, and it wasn’t long before we’d all settled down in the living room with steaming mugs of hot cocoa with marshmallows. Bucky and I had settled onto the loveseat as my dad turned on a hockey game.

“You a hockey fan, Bucky?” my dad asked, and Bucky shrugged.

“I like it,” he replied. “Haven’t really had much time to follow sports for years now, but baseball was always more my sport; that and boxing.” He grinned. “Steve and I did go see the Rangers play the Maple Leafs at Madison Square Garden for one of the Stanley Cup Final games, though.”

My dad’s eyebrows shot up. “The Rangers haven’t played the Leafs in the finals since…”

“Since 1940,” Bucky finished, a rueful smile on his face. “I definitely dated myself with that one, didn’t I? Sometimes I forget that people don’t realize I’m actually almost one hundred and four years old.”

“(Y/N) told us how old you and Steve were,” my dad explained. “It’s just hard to remember, considering you look barely over thirty.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Spending most of your life in a cryo chamber does wonders for your complexion,” he said wryly, and although his tone was teasing his eyes told a different story. I sat up straighter, tucking my legs under myself, and cleared my throat.

“Has anyone heard if Uncle Joe is coming up for Christmas this year?” I asked, changing the subject and successfully diverting everyone’s focus away from Bucky. He shot me a grateful look to which I returned with a warm smile, hoping that I wouldn’t have to keep jumping in to stop my family from making Bucky uncomfortable all through Christmas.

“(Y/N), you’re twenty-six years old; I shouldn’t have to tell you not to eat raw cookie dough!” my mom scolded as I dipped my finger into the bowl of dough she had whipped up for molasses cookies and licked it clean, savouring the spicy-sweet flavour of it. I grinned sheepishly at my glaring mother.

“If I get salmonella then it’s totally worth it; this tastes amazing, Mom,” I told her, and she rolled her eyes as she mixed together the pumpkin pie filling.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

I shrugged. “Well, I tried.” Digging a spoon out of the drawer, I dipped it into the bowl and then held the spoonful of dough out to Bucky. “You have to try this, Buck, it’s so good.”

“(Y/N)!” my mom hissed. “It’s bad enough if you make yourself sick, but I’m not going to let you make our guest sick as well.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Bucky said, eyes sparkling as he took the spoon from me. “One good thing about being superhuman is that I don’t get sick.” He stuck the spoon in his mouth and his lips curved into a grin. “That’s gotta be the best damn cookie dough I’ve ever tasted.”

“See?” I exclaimed. “I told you so.”

My mom muttered something about the two of us being “peas in a pod,” and Bucky and I laughed as we began to spoon the dough onto a cookie sheet. In the past twelve hours Bucky had relaxed considerably, bonding over hockey with my dad and brother, helping my sister wrap the gifts she got me so I wouldn’t see what they were, and helping my mom with the Christmas baking. It warmed my heart to see him fitting in with my family, and reinforced my belief that inviting him to come home with me had been the right decision.

After an afternoon baking and an evening of Christmas movies – specifically Elf, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and Christmas Vacation – everyone agreed that we were going to retire early for the night. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and as I had already warned Bucky, the next two days were going to be very busy and there wouldn’t be much time for rest.

Sometime in the middle of the night, though, I woke with my throat parched and cursed to myself when a glance at the nightstand told me I had forgotten to bring up a glass of water with me when I’d gone to bed. My body had grown used to the self-adjusting climatizer at the compound, and so the dry air caused by the wood furnace in the basement had my throat aching.

With a sigh, I pushed off my blankets and slid out of bed, making my way down the creaky old staircase as quietly as possible so as to not wake up anyone else in the house.

In the kitchen I poured myself a glass of water, and the cold liquid instantly soothed my parched throat as I swallowed. The clock on the stove said 2:19; I should have been in bed, but I was awake now and instead chose to sit in the living room in the comforting lights of the tree and the fireplace until I felt tired again.

I was surprised to find that Bucky was already doing just that. He glanced up as I walked in, and although he looked sheepish at having been caught, he didn’t look surprised to see me; his supersoldier hearing would have alerted him I was awake as soon as I’d stepped out of bed.

“Bucky,” I breathed. “I came down to get some water; I didn’t expect anyone else to be up right now.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied with a half-shrug, and I frowned. I came over to sit on the opposite end of the couch, tucking my legs underneath me and nursing my glass of water. I bit my lip.

“Nightmares?” I asked hesitantly, and he gave me a sad smile and shook his head.

“Not this time.” He paused before continuing, his gaze drifting to the fireplace. A cozy little fire was burning brightly, making me wonder how long he had been awake – The fire should have been dying embers by now. “I’ve just…got a lot on my mind,” he finally said, eyes still fixed on the flickering flames. I shifted, fingers twitching to reach out to him but deciding against it.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

I watched Bucky’s jaw tighten, and then he reached up his flesh hand to run it through his hair before meeting my eyes with what almost seemed like embarrassment.

“Your family has been so kind,” he started, “and I am incredibly grateful that you asked me to come and spend Christmas here. But…” He trailed off, his eyes dropping to his lap. “Being around your family and seeing how happy you all are and how much you love each other…I can’t help but miss my own family.”

I had never once in the time I’ve known Bucky hear him speak about his family. He would talk about his early days with Steve, but had never mentioned his parents or siblings, at least not around me. I knew his parents’ names were George and Winnifred, and that he had two sisters named Rebecca and Alice and two brothers named Thomas and David, but only because Steve had told me about them once.

And seeing the look on Bucky’s face, and hearing the waver in his voice, I now knew why he hadn’t ever spoken of them before. It hurt him to speak of them, even all these decades later. His eyes were dry, but the pain and sadness they held was enough to have a lump forming in the back of my own throat.

“Christmas was always a big deal to us,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We didn’t have a lot of money – It was especially hard in the thirties, during the Depression. But Ma and Pa always made it special for us anyway. We’d get a tree and decorate it with homemade ornaments, and on Christmas Eve every year Pa would read us A Christmas Carol; it was tradition. Then we’d wake up Christmas morning and open presents – Ma made us each a new sweater every year – and we’d always get an orange and some chocolate in our stockings, every year.” Bucky grinned ruefully. “It seems silly now ‘cause we eat oranges and chocolate all year ‘round, but back when money was scarce finding those things in your stocking was like finding gold.”

Bucky was wrapped up in his nostalgia, but his eyes were still sad. I gave him a small smile. “It sounds nice,” I murmured, and he nodded.

“It was. We may not have had a lot of money, but we had each other.” His eyes fell back to his lap. “Our last real Christmas was in 1940. Christmas in ’41 was a write-off because the U.S. had just joined the war, and I know it broke my ma’s heart when I enlisted but she understood why I did it.”

“So…1940 was the last time you celebrated Christmas?” My eyes were wide as I regarded Bucky.

“Guess so,” he chuckled humourlessly. “No one really felt like celebrating in ’41, and it’s hard to celebrate when you’re deep in enemy territory during a world war. After that I spent the next seventy Christmases in cryo, one in Bucharest by myself when I was a war criminal, one in cryo in Wakanda, another in Wakanda that I didn’t bother celebrating, and then after the snap, well…” He trailed off and shrugged. “This is the first Christmas since 1940 that I really have the chance to properly celebrate.”

It broke my heart that so many of Bucky’s Christmases were taken from him. He’d been through more in his lifetime than likely anyone else on this planet, and yet he managed to stay so strong. Even now, as sad as he was, his eyes remained dry. His jaw was still tight, though, and I bit my lip before setting my glass of water on the coffee table and reaching out a rest a hand on his arm.

“If I could give you even one more Christmas with your family, Buck, I would,” I murmured softly. Hell, I would give him anything right now if it would take away his sadness. “What I can give you, though,” I continued, “is a Christmas with a family that will do their best to make you feel like you’re one of their own.” I gave him a small smile. “My family adores you, Buck; I know you miss your family and no one will ever replace them, but you can have more than one family. You of course have the team, but you also have my family, and…and me, if you need it.”

The atmosphere in the room had changed; sadness no longer lingered in the air, replaced with something unfamiliar that felt charged with electricity. I was suddenly very aware of how hot Bucky’s skin was under my hand, and in the light of the fireplace and the Christmas lights his sharp cheekbones and strong jawline were even more prominent. I tried to divert my gaze, my cheeks hot, but Bucky had my eyes locked in his.

“(Y/N)…” he murmured, and my heart started to race.

“Yes?” I squeaked.

“I…” He swallowed hard, and then shook his head, a small smile curving his lips. “Thank you. For all of this. You have no idea how much it means to me to be here.”

The electric feeling in the air disappeared and I could focus again. I smiled and squeezed his arm before retracting my hand. “I’m glad you’re here,” I told him, and his face softened.

“Sit with me for a bit?” he asked. “That is, if you aren’t too tired –”

“I’d love to,” I assured him, and Bucky’s smile was dazzling. I may not be able to give him a Christmas with his family, but I would be damned sure to do everything I could to give him the best Christmas possible.

#bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes #smut #james buchanan barnes #christmas #fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky reader #cute #angst

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writemydaydreams · 3 years

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Work In Progress Wednesday

So! I’m releasing the first chapter of a new fic tomorrow so how about a preview? The first 4 and a half of 6 (or possibly 7) chapters are written so I’ll do a chapter a week. I’ll put the preview below the cut.

Rating: M

Chapters: 6 or 7

Title: In This Lifetime or the Next

Pairing: InuKag

Summary: The dreams have started. Inuyasha knows what it means, knows what comes next. His soulmate is alive and she’s ready to be found; but this time, he is not ready to find her. Because he is cursed. Because every time he finds her, she dies. Because she’s never lived more than a year after the first dream.

It shouldn’t be possible to get a demon this drunk.

“What do you mean you’re not going to look for her?” Koga asked, leaning over the bar and eyeing the woman serving drinks, again. His speech wasn’t slurred but he had no volume control and he was swaying dangerously on the flimsy barstool.

“Will you keep your eyes in your fucking skull for five minutes?” Inuyasha asked, snapping his fingers in Koga’s face to draw his attention. “Aren’t you seeing someone?”

Koga scowled and turned back to his friend, swatting at the offending hand. “She kicked me to the curb. Said I wasn’t spending enough time with her or some shit. Whatever, you didn’t answer my question.”

The bartender came over to check on them and gave Koga the stink-eye when he tried to wiggle his eyebrows at her. When she walked away, Inuyasha said, “No wonder you dragged me out tonight. And seriously, the bartender isn’t interested. She can probably spot an asshole a mile away and you’re a giant flashing sign that just screams ‘asshole.’”

Koga scowled. “Fuck off and answer my question. You’ve done this, what, like five times now?”

He sighed, trying not to think about the specifics and failing. “Seven and I can’t fucking do it again. I’d rather be alone than-”

“Oh, cry me a fuckin’ river,” Koga growled and downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp. He slammed his glass back on the bar, drawing a few angry looks from other bar goers and the bartender. “What if this time is different?” He swayed dangerously on his stool and Inuyasha tensed, waiting to see if he’d have to play catch.

“You’re really fucking drunk,” Inuyasha pointed out. “Which is amazing for a full demon. And what if it isn’t? Why the fuck would it be any different this time around?” He put a hand up for the bartender to settle their tab. The wolf had had enough.

“You think...fuck. I should call her,” Koga mused, his mind jumping topics at a speed only achievable when shit-faced.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, knowing where this was going and asking anyway. “Call who?”

“My woman.” Koga started to tilt and Inuyasha shot a hand out to steady him. He should have just let the asshole fall. Luckily, the bartender was already there, taking Inuyasha’s credit card.

“Fucking hell, wolf shit. You’re not drunk calling your god damn ex.” One hand on his drunk friend’s shoulder, Inuyasha fished two 20s out of his wallet to throw to the bartender. She earned it dealing with Koga the last few hours. She took it with a grateful smile, handing his card back.

“Good luck with him,” she said, pointing at Koga without taking her eyes off Inuyasha. “Be safe and enjoy the rest of your night.” She shot one more look at him before sauntering off to wait on other customers. He was used to the looks his silver hair and gold eyes earned him. Even among demons he was exotic, an attractive novelty with fluffy fucking ears.

“Let’s get out of here.” Inuyasha stood and dragged Koga out of the bar.

When they were safely outside, he pulled out his phone to call for a ride. Carrying an inebriated demon halfway across the city was not high on his list of things he wanted to do on a Friday night. He debated who his best option would be. Miroku was spending the night with his girlfriend, probably being gross, so that was a no-go. Jinenji would be up but the guy was way too nice to put him through drunk-Koga hell and his wife would give Inuyasha an earful for dragging him out. Ginta or Hakaku would be ignoring calls, knowing how Koga got after a break-up. Shiori would do it but he didn’t want a woman for Koga to focus his attention on. Fuck.

He was gonna have to call the fox.

He popped in his custom-made earpiece (because it’s impossible to find earbuds that fit when you have dog ears) and scrolled through his contacts until he found who he was looking for. Shippo answered and it was clear he had been informed of things that Inuyasha had not. “Yo. Lemme guess: Koga’s break-up hammered and you need a ride?”

“How am I the last to hear about him getting dumped?” He growled and scowled at Koga. It was definitely a conspiracy.

“Someone had to deal with it and you seemed like the best option.” He could practically hear the fucker smirking. Yep, they’d set him up.

“Just get your ass down here.” He gave Shippo the address, keeping one eye and ear focused on Koga. At least Shippo was close by.

Turning his full attention back to Koga, he noticed the phone in his hand a little too late.

"Listen, I’m not even mad about that anymore. How about I come over there now and we can make up. I learned this new trick with my tongue and-" Koga didn't get to finish his sentence because Inuyasha snatched his phone away.

"First, gross. Second, what'd I fucking tell you? No drunk calls to your fucking ex." He glared at Koga, contemplating murder and the best place to dump a body, until a quiet voice distracted him. The ex was still on the phone.

"Hey, anyone still there?"

Shit.

“Hey,” Inuyasha said, holding the phone so they could hear each other more clearly. It was awkward at best with his ears on top of his head but his half-dog-demon hearing made up for it. “Sorry about the asshat, I wasn’t paying enough attention.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I was kinda expecting it anyway,” she said and sighed. “I shouldn’t have answered my phone in the first place so it’s partially my fault.”

Inuyasha growled, fighting the urge to punch Koga in the throat. The woman’s voice was soft and sweet, gently caressing his sensitive ears. The thought of Koga getting anywhere near someone who sounded so...so pure made Inuyasha’s blood boil. “Keh, not your fault he’s an asshole.” Said asshole was making grabbing motions for his phone but Inuyasha swept a leg out casually, Koga’s ass meeting the ground hard enough that Inuyasha heard his teeth clack together. “Don’t worry, I’m not giving him his phone back until he’s sobered up a bit.”

“How much has he had to drink? It takes a lot to get a demon that drunk,” she commented.

“Too much, clearly. I can’t promise he won’t try to call you again when I’m done babysitting his ass. Want me to delete your number from his phone?”

“Hmm, it’s tempting but no.” She sniffled and he wondered briefly if she’d been crying. Just because she was the one doing the dumping didn’t mean she couldn’t be upset about it. “Is he...well, really upset? It wasn’t a...a nice breakup. I kind of...um...well, I accidentally shocked him with my reiki when he wouldn’t leave and I uh, I feel kinda bad.”

Inuyasha couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that escaped his throat. “You what? I mean, I’m sure he deserved it.” Koga grumbled from the ground beside him but Inuyasha ignored him.

“Don’t laugh,” she said but he could hear the amusement in her voice and the poorly stifled giggle. “I never trained beyond keeping it in so sometimes it just...escapes.”

He shook his head and chuckled but reigned in his mirth quickly. “You, uh...are you alright?” he asked, genuinely concerned for the woman even though he’d never met her.

“Oh, yeah.” She sighed and sniffled again. “I mean, I’m as good as I can be after something like that. Thank you though, for asking. Um...what was your name?”

“Oh, uh Inuyasha.” Should he have been on the phone this long with his friend’s ex? Absolutely not. Did he care at the moment? Also absolutely not. His brain was scrambling for a way to keep her talking so he could hear more of her melodic voice. His instincts were shouting at him to comfort and protect the woman on the other end of the phone. He needed to put a stop to that and soon.

“Well uh Inuyasha, my name’s Kagome. Thank you and, um...it was nice to meet you, kind of. Oh, I mean, it was nice to meet you but we only kind of met. Not ‘it was kind of nice to meet you’...um, shit. I’m rambling, sorry.” She giggled and he could feel his ears twitching at the sound. It was fucking adorable.

The awkwardness of it all made him chuckle. “I get it. You too, Kagome.” He liked how it felt saying her name. “And if asshat bothers you again, just let me know and I’ll deal with him for you.”

She giggled again and it just wasn’t fair what it was doing to him. “Will do. I...um, I gotta go. Bye, Inuyasha.”

“Bye, Kagome.” He was sure he was grinning like an idiot by the time he hit the end call button. Hopefully, Koga was too drunk to notice.

“Gimme my phone back, shit-breath.” Koga had managed to get himself back to his feet at some point and was making a more focused grab for his phone. His scowl was a good indicator that he’d heard a good bit of the conversion. Inuyasha didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed when Inuyasha finally let the smile fall.

“Here, fuckface.” He tossed the phone in the air, Koga catching it with ease despite his drunkenness; he was already starting to sober up.

The blare of a car horn made them both jump. “You two assholes call for a ride?” Shippo yelled out the window. “Hope you know, I charge by the minute.”

Inuyasha pushed Koga into the car, trying and failing to not think of Kagome, thoughts of his soulmate forgotten for the time being.

#inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fanfic #WIP Wednesday #wip #ITLOTN #fanfic preview #inukag

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

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Grandma Knows Best

Masterlist

Summary: Three months and you were still on edge ready to run at a moments notice and Clark is beside himself with worry, it was time Martha nipped this in the but once and for all. Grandma always knows best.

Warning: Angst, Swearing, Past Trauma, Panic attacks

A/N: so this one is very angsty the next chapter should be happier and a little humor but I wanted to have this final 'melt down' I hope you enjoy it xxx

Taglist: @sofiebstar @thefangirlsblog @gooseyhouse @charliestufff @harrysthiccthighss @loserrlauraa @cheeseman

The potting shed was old and rickety, Clark and Konner were going to fix it up over the weekend well fix it up; they were going to knock out all the panels and put perspex glass over it making a humongous diy green house, they were going to home depo to order the glass tomorrow, but for now it was perfect shelter for the older plants. Around six weeks ago Martha had dragged you in here to plant your first ever plants. It had been fun, poking tiny holes and planting the seeds you were out here everyday watching,waiting for a shoot! But after a week you had gotten bored and stopped looking until she had told you of the first few leaves of spinach had popped through...It seemed within days of that all your plants had sprouted, none had died and to say you were proud was an understatement. You loved watching them grow something about caring for the fragile plants watering and feeding them pellets and tending them was soothing in a way. Whenever you got to overwhelmed you'd come out to the shed and take care of them, it was a place you could escape all...Except grandma. Martha had all but exiled the boys when she noticed Clark pestering you inside. she could see that gardening was becoming a solace for you, something you did without a care and she was pleased. You moved slowly behind Martha as she showed you how to dead head some of the plants and curb the tomato's so that you got less leaves and more fruit. You watched fascinated as she made quick work of the tall tomato plants plucking the new budding stems that would only produce leaves that would shade the fruit so it couldn't ripen. She turned looking to you concerned today she planned to air out a few things with you it was high time you had a little heart to heart.Three months. Three long months and still you held back Martha was worried, you hadn't settled, well you had but you were still skittish ready to run at a moments notice. They hoped you'd be more relaxed but it would seem you were the opposite more guarded and secretive and not once had you referred to them as family. It saddened her, konner had let slip that you were frightened of hurting someone...Namely her. But the woman trusted you. Clark was beside himself he didn't understand what he needed to do he was a father...Your father and he hadn't a fucking clue! Martha had decided it was time to nip these silly fears in the butt herself something tells her you needed a female touch. Clark had come to her a few days ago in floods of tears he had tried to take you shopping for clothes and you'd refused so then he offered to get a meal and when you turned that down it was coffee even though he didn't even let you drink it...He just wanted some one on one time with you he had been so excited for you to come home, he wanted a daughter...But you didn't seem to want a dad? He couldn't understand it he was lost and confused he desperately wanted you to open up to him, wanted to wrap you up in his arms and fight off all your doubts but...He didn't want to rush things, Bruce had called him out for being overbaring at first and said things take time but still he was impatient. What if you thought he didn't care because he was now giving you space? He hated the idea of you fearing being abandoned and alone again. You seemed happy on the face of it but when no one was looking your face was blank a mask hiding everything below. The longer you stayed here the more he could see you pull back you were fighting it, fighting being safe secure and happy. He couldnt get through to help neither could konner he had been trying to hard and you'd shut yourself off from him, Clark didn't want that to happen with him. It crushed him knowing you were still frightened and had decided that it would be an idea to just stay at the farm. He wanted to give you stability but he wanted you to come to him to open up and talk or or at least treat him like a father even if you didn't call him dad.

Martha moved slowly around you discreetly positioning herself between you and the door. She knew you'd try to avoid this and if you had the chance you'd run off and hide and that was not happening...Not again last time you'd been gone for a whole twenty-four hours the Clark had found you sleeping at a bus stop at two in the morning scaring the daylights out of everyone. She turned to face you a small smile was on your face as you prodded the leaves on your prized cucumber plant the first cucumbers just starting to form. "You know your dad was thinking of helping you design your room... I got a few catalogues of wallpaper and stuff...Ideas for designs from the home depot" You looked up at her blinking with a soft smile then moved slowly stepping up beside her placing your hands on the wooden Table in front of you. "He shouldn't...No point we're moving to the city again so...Yeah" Martha tilted her head letting out a breath placing the ant powder over your the cucumber plant to keep away the earwigs. "Well that was the plan...But your dad thinks it might be best to keep you and konner away from it... So your all staying here its not like he has to worry about getting to work~" she gave a sly smile and nudged you softly then frowned at your sour expression. "I didn't realize" Martha eyed you cautiously and stopped tending to the veg and turned. Then dipped down to your level you met her eyes for a second. What she saw broke her heart you were hurting and unsure still so lost. "Well now you do...So tell me what do you think you'll do to your room...I'm sure it won't be pink!" You took another deep breath poking a finger in the soil drawing a line in it. And shrugged. Its not something you thought about kids in the system didn't decorate, everything is temporary. "Don't know....Shouldn't bother...Only two years" Martha turned a placed a hand on he hip unimpressed. But you couldn't help feel she already knew that'd be your answer. "Now what the hell makes you say that? You think were gonna what? Kick you out at eighteen? Honey no that’s all behind you now...I mean christ Clarks still here and he's what thirty seven? Thirty eight" You flicked your gaze to her then back down to the spinach shoots in front of you moving the spritz them with a mix of water and dish soap helping keep away bugs. You arched over to the small container that held a mix of rock salt and crushed egg shells it helped keep away the slugs and snails. "I...Its hard I forgot what its meant to be like...In the system you just get thrown out...Go to the streets....Always weed to run or something or you can go to the sewers" Martha frowned at that "So that was your plan? You were going to be a drug runner? Or go Live in the sewers?" She asked none to impressed you felt scolded and skittish under her gaze and you didn't even see it. A mothers; in this case grandmother's disapproving gaze was felt. "I...I was a drug runner on and off...Then well I made a delivery to the Joker...He was...Frightening and I called it quits after that...Didn't want to be near the big leagues...Big people let their little people die" Martha crossed her arms this was new you never really spoke about how you survived normally brushed them off. "You ever try these drugs?" The question was meant to be casual but didn't quite hit the mark, you shook your head truthfully. "Couldn't risk it...If I reacted bad I could of...Well killed people so it just didn't seem like a good idea" she eyed you carefully and nodded she believed you. "Right well don't let you dad find out... But seriously you should think about what you want to do with your room everyone needs their own personal space" you heaved a deep breath smoothing out the layer of eggshells on the dirt covering the pot. Martha said dusting her hands off leaning on hand on her hip the other palm was flat on the table next to you.

"Okay right out with it...Come on whats going on in that mind of yours?" Her voice wasn't irritated she seemed more worried, wanting to know what was going on so she could fix it rather than to berate you for it. You swallowed moving our arms shrugging at her with a heavy sigh. "Just...I- it only been a few months not that long- things are going well now...But they might not be-I'm still dangerous my power can react at anything at anytime-" you were cut off by a clump of moist dirt hitting your cheek splatting across your lips making you spit and retch. Ew. You growled looking at her with a scowl. "Hey-what the fuck?-ugh ew no stop it!" Martha scoffed and flicked another small clump of mud at your face making you splutter spitting out the small flecks of dirt in your mouth. You looked up appalled at her wiping your tongue and she just hummed chuckling nodding a playful smile. "Yes I see it has incredible reflexes, nothing gets passed it~" you glared at her as she chuckled louder then flashed your eyes playfully and pulled at the water in the watering can urging it up the spout sending a large slosh of water over her croc covered feet she jumped back giggling lightly but stepped back to the table moving the pots back turning around leaning back on the table patting it. "Up you go darling time for a little chit chat" you frowned Your laughter dieing...This was it, they'd grown bored of you...You bit your lip preparing for the inevitable still wiping your face wanting the dirt off but obeyed sitting on the table looking down. She didn't let you for long stepping in front of you tilting your face up and pushed away a few locks of hair. "You always hide behind these curls...I wish you'd pull them out of your face and let me see my beautiful little granddaughter..." Martha spotted the eye roll and pinched you chin making you look at her. "I'm not your grand-" she frowned moving the hair to stay behind your ears then smiled. "Hush....Ah and there it is..." you frowned not following her trying to avoid her all seeing gaze "There’s what?" You bit out still expecting to be told to pack up and leave. These types of talks are never good, your being shipped off. Back to the tower not that you'd stay fuck them you never needed them. You don’t need anyone! "The doubt of a scared little girl, you hide it or you try to...But its there your eyes are a window we all see it...You think your poker face is perfect but...You Y/n L/n Kent are an open book...Clark sees it to he wants to help he loves you, I love you and so does konner" You furrowed you brows and tried shaking your head wanting to look anywhere other than her. You couldn't look her in the eye with whats coming, they stutter when you do makes it harder for them to be rid of you. "I-I don’t know what- Look I don’t need an excuse just say what you need to say!" she shook her head tutting and continued butting in before you could talk yourself into a panic. "Don’t give me that crap...You still think we're just gonna dump you off somewhere eventually...Well you better think again missy...You are my granddaughter, Clarks daughter and Konners sister and that is the end of it we love you! And nothing is going to change that y/n..." "W-What? Your...your not getting rid of me? But that’s what they do...When they want to talk" you asked heart clenching but Martha gasp seeing you trying to bottle up your devastation and anger. She turned cupping both sides of your face shaking her head looking mortified you'd think such a thing. It was then she truly saw just how much damage was there. You thought you were disposable and could be thrown away at anypoint. "No! No no of course not...Oh god sweety no listen I just-This is exactly why we need to talk my love...We are never ever abandoning you...My god your ours! And you are never going anywhere! We love you but we...We don't really know what you need you never ask for anything love...But your here and that's it you belong here with us" you blinked rapidly you couldn't help but buy it, believe maybe foolishly that this time it was the real deal. You whimpered trying to save face wiping away the tears before they shed. "B-but my power-" you started to argue but was quickly shushed as she held a finger to your lips and rolled her eyes with a light hearty chuckle. "Makes you no more dangerous then Clark or Konner now enough...I don't care, and I don't want to hear it anymore...You hear me? You are not going to attack me at all we all know that by now...Your breaking your fathers heart, he knows you still feel unsafe here and your just waiting to be abandoned again and its not happening...Now this afternoon you and your dad are gonna sit down and look at some ideas for you room which you are both going to redecorate together over the weekend. A few days bonding with him will do the world of good and might make you finally accept that you are going no where" you looked down with a deep sigh and picked at the loose splinters of wood on the table pulling thin strands of the wood.

"He loves you, you silly girl we all do...I know you still have your original bag packed stuffed between the desk and wall, it's how we found you last time" you snapped your head up to her what? Your bag gave you away? She shrugged to you with a cheeky grin. "Oh what you think that phone's been magically charging itself for three months? I've been charging it and your uncle Bruce may have tracked it for us to find you quicker...Having your dad flying all over smallville in the state he was when you went missing wouldn't have been very subtle...He'd have ripped the place to shreds and terrified the locals" you blinked at her. He was actually worried? You thought it'd been an act. you flushed heart tingling and warming when the thought of someone caring enough about you to worry when you vanished. "I hope that soon you will unpack it...Clark is...He is at a loss he wants to get to know you but doesn't want to push he is frightened he would chase you off...Just please talk...Whatever it is we can help we just want you to be happy and safe" you looked down sadly unsure how to express yourself. The Kents had been brilliant but you just...Something made it hard for you to let go of the past. Your Mum and Dad the ones you couldn't save who died whilst screaming...They had called out for you! for you to save them but you couldn't you were weak...Defenseless even with this gift you couldn't protect them...A life time of guilt a life time of being alone, telling yourself that you can't lose people if you don't have them around you. How could you explain that? how did you explain it wasn't what you'd do necessarily it was also what if you couldn't help? couldn't save them? tears welled in your eyes at the thoughts and you sighed shuddering a breath. Martha moved closer standing between your knees and hugged you pulling you to her shoulder holding you tight rubbing your back hushing you and suddenly for the first time you cried. You sobbed gut wrenching cries into her. Until then the only other person to hold you had been Clark and that had been to prove a point. You moved trying to pull back apologizing for snotting all over her but she was having none of it she held tighter petting your hair softly kissing your head. "Hey?...Its okay...I got you baby we got you...You don't have to be frightened anymore...Or alone we are here for you...We are my love I promise" you shook your head still weeping into her the flood gates opened and you let loose. Martha was happy and gutted, she knew you needed to get this out but at the same time it was difficult to hear you shatter like this. A normally stoic sarcastic unshakeable and frankly stressed out teen finally cracking masks dropping and finally opening up, showing the true terrified little girl she really was. "But its bad!...I shouldn't-youll just!? and like the rest I cant-I wont!!" You fought to maintain an even voice but failed miserably spitting out the words rushing them with broken sobs. Martha was quick to ask she needed to know whats going on, needed to reassure you to fix the issues if she could. "Whats bad pumpkin? What's wrong sweety?" Her voice was calm a gentle lull that aimed to sooth you and draw the truth from you. "...M-My parents they-they died!...I tri-ed they y-yelled for help-to me THEY CALLED OUT TO ME! and I didn't...I couldn't and on the beach...It was my fault! mine...If I'd held on they could have made it!! and-and now with you guys! I wont be able to...I can't.? Youll die! And itll be my fault! Its always my fault...And then its- I don't want to replace them-my real parents" You shook your head no. you tried pulling back again this time Martha let you and moved holding either side of your face as fat tears still streamed down your face. You cried harder coughing and hyperventilating choking on your own sobs panicked looking for a way out. She held steady holding both hands firmly on your face well aware of the earth beneath her feet moving sifting like sand but she ignored it, her grandbaby needed her and so she began talking you through the attack.

"shh shh calm yourself down...Thats it its okay...Your alright I've got you...I've got you baby... Good girl see thats it a little more...Deeper breaths in then out...Good" Martha held her breath as you coughed a few more times your breathing was fast but you were calmer your tears still flowing freely but it was a soft quiet crying as opposed to the borderline hysterical sobs moments ago. That was it the final piece to the puzzle, you didn't want to disrespect your real parents by accepting new ones- or in this case a new father. And you felt responsible for there deaths carrying that type of guilt wasn't healthy for anyone. "...Okay...Okay baby...Grandma understands now...It wasn't your fault...None of this was your fault and don't you think otherwise ever...Your parents loved you and were probably yelling for you to hide and stay still...And the beach that wasn't your fault the atlanteans did that...They tried to declare war honey...If you wanted to I'm sure your uncle Arthur would talk to you about it...He felt guilty when he found out" you gasped and shook your head panicked at her.

"No! It wasn't his fault" she smiled at that he'd be happy to know according to Clark the man was beating himself up over it. She'd have to mention something to Clark to get the message across. "Or yours love...You couldn't have known what was going to happen...No one did we didn't-Clark didn't" You sucked in a deep breath and shook your head and opened your mouth to argue that you should have been stronger. "No no...I'm not done love...Do you think your mum and dad would want you to be alone?...Isolate yourself and refuse to live with a new family? That they want you to be unhappy?..I'm not asking you to forget them but its been a long time and maybe its time to accept that another family wants to be yours to protect you and guide and love you in your parents stead" you frowned wiping your face in vain as the tears still poured. "B-But what about you?- what if I can't save you? or Konner or-or" Martha shook her head at you chuckling raking her hands through your hair over and over in a soothing motion. "You don't have to...You don't have to save us love...Your dad is superman there isn't a lot he can't over come and konner is just behind him...And if anything ever happens here I'll have all three of you...Please don't make yourself unhappy in fear of loosing us, we aren't going anywhere" you blinked at her but gave a small smile Martha relaxed and hugged you again giving you one last kiss on your forehead. "Really? I'm- I don't need to....I wont be alone?" she shook her head at you somehow getting this off your chest made you fell lighter, it was freeing. You nodded thoughts still racing, no one ever took the time to really listen but it- Martha made sense your parents wouldnt want you to be alone would they? even if it was your fault which you still belived it was...They probably were crying out for you to hide, they must have known what was happening and only managed your name befor everything collapsed...The beach, well that was...It was war or the start of one. Seeing that she had gave you a lot to think about she patted your shoulders and nodded to the house. "Go have a shower and relax, we can plant these in the garden tomorrow...Just chill for today okay?" you gulped and slipped off the table to the floor slowly and turned timidly to hug her taking her by surprize you moved up on tip toes kissing her cheek and pulled away. "Thank you Grandma...That-You made sense" and with that you ran off letting the door slam behind you on your way out sprinting to your room.

It took a while but after a few days of deliberation you finally come to terms with everything. Nothing else had been mentioned about it over the past few days, well things had been pretty normal but you'd been thinking alot. Martha made a lot of sense it wasn't a eurica moment but it had switched you on. Maybe it was time to move on...You'd never forget your parents you'd never stop loving them but maybe...Maybe you could love your new family to. That’s what they were...What they were trying to be a family it was just you that was the problem, to cut off and dare you say 'emotional stunted'. No one had ever just let you unload onto them like that before, by the time you were due to start therapy you were already in the hospital being sedated under the mental health act. You never had anyone to talk to and by the end of that ordeal you'd found a way to deal with it, reasoned with your own guilt and had your own take on what happened. Maybe this could be a new start...Its never to late right? Maybe you should just start interacting instead of avoiding them, you and konner got on you were friends but Clark and Martha...You'd tried not to be around them much. No point getting under their feet besides you didn't need to many attachments if you were completely honest talking to konner was just so you didn't go mad, you needed atleast one person to talk to. It was late on friday morning when Martha and Konner had left to go shopping. You woke up to Martha placing some more design magazines on your desk by the door. Grandma you mentally corrected yourself had said she was going out and would be back around dinner time with take out. She must have brought them up to try and sway you, wanting you to make the first move with..Dad. You hadn't approached him yet still nervous and every time you did get a bit of spine Konner was there to you didn't want to make a fool of yourself. She winked at you and nodded, it will be fine. Once she left you sat up skimming through the book's quickly then looked about the room you were in, it was spacious and at the back of the house...You hadn't the foggiest idea what to do with it at all, you’d never done this sort of thing before. You felt silly but it was kind of a big thing for you...The finality of making your mark on the house. It was daunting. You held the catalogues in your lap for a moment looking around...You should probably paint it your favorite color right? but what was your favorite color?...It had been so long since you thought about stuff like that you were stumped. You moved slowly to the door magazines in hand, it was time to start trying. You padded down the stairs timidly and peeked through the banister, Clark was in the kitchen sitting at the table. You sat on the step for a few seconds taking deep breaths watching him from between the wooden spokes in the banister then nodded you moved and hovered by the door. He looked tired reading the paper before him drinking his coffee. He must be tired there was an incident in india last night..Landslide he was there for a few hours digging out survivors and that says alot considering who he was. You crept up behind him and stood awkwardly curling your toes.

"Err clar-Dad?" He froze shoulders going rigid and turned slowly blinking a few times, he was shocked but happy? A grin spread across his face making his eyes practically glow. He swallowed placing down the paper he was reading. "Y-yes? Whats up?" You could see a slight tremble as he was trying to contain himself. You moved and sat next to him and placed the magazines on the table. "I err...well Grandma said that I can decorate my room...She got me these but, I've never done it and don't...I don't know what I can do or what to do...I can you help me?" He nodded quickly clearing the table he was vibrating with excitement, happy that his mother got through to you. You smiled and spread out the books. "So what do you like? Have you thought about any colors or themes" you blinked a little and flicked through the first magazine. "I like the sea" you said in a small voice sounding weird you'd never really spoke about your likes and dislikes before it was kind of irrelevant. You suddenly perked up drawing Clarks attention as you gasped seeing a few images of murals. "I...That’s cool I like the second photo...With the big mural its cool..." Clark looked over your shoulder smiling nodding it was very light and airy the room was three walls of faux white brick the final wall was a huge mural of the suspension bridge separating Gotham and Metropolis. "It is different you could have the mural on the wall across from your bed" you thought about it and smiled sheepishly nodding. "You think they have a beach one...Not like white sand and clear water...But like rocky? With forrest and stuff that sort of seaside raw and rugged..." Clark smiled as you muttered away listing off ideas. Finally you were showing your true colours a bright and happy young girl slowly peeking out from behind her curtain of curls. "Well they should if not we can always go and take our own pictures" you gasped looking up at him shaking your head. "No no we don't...You don't have to do that..." you mumbled quickly avoiding his gaze. "Its no hassle...I do work for the daily planet I have access to some of the best cameras around...Ixm sure we could get a panoramic shot..We can fly out and find you a perfect spot it won't be that hard to scale it up and have one printed" he shrugged closing his own magazine waiting for you to answer. You twiddled your fingers it did sound fun...You'd never been anywhere before by plane the idea of going somewhere even quieter then this was very tempting you could just imagine the waves. "You can't book a holiday just so I can decorate...I'll just find one online" he chuckled at you shaking his head trying to hold back his amusement, he didn't want you to think he was laughing at you. "Oh no sweetheart I meant I will fly us out somewhere...It'll take a few minuets but there’s a great couple of island's near Vancouver extremely beautiful and lush there should be some good places there " you faltered then flushed. Oh yeah he can fly...Over the past few months you kind of forgot he was superman he was just Clark to you...Now dad. You took a breath. It was weird saying dad again. But you didn't feel bad about it just uneasy, what if he was doing this just to make sure you don't loose your mind and turn on them...Was that it? There must be a reason.

"Hey honey whats wrong? Gone all quiet all of a sudden, if you don't want to I can always ask your uncle Arthur to take a photo for us...Hell he might even have a few of his buddies photo bomb for you" Clark added trying to lighten the mood but secretly he was worried. Your happy dispositions had gone and you looked ready to run off and hide again. He was a little disappointed at the prospect of not being able to fly you off and spend a father daughter day at the beach, but these things would take time. "No no we can go! I want to go! it's just...I err forgot you were...That you could...Your just normal around here and just feel a little silly...I've also never been flying like at all and its just a little daunting" Clark grinned placing a hand on your shoulder squeezing it lightly. He was relieved you did want to spend time with him you were shy that was all. "That’s not silly at all and I promise flying with me is the safest way, I wont drop you, I'll never drop you, you can count on it...How about we go tomorrow afternoon? I can go borrow a camera from the office in the morning" you smiled into your lap twisting your t-shirt in your fingers nodding quickly trying to keep your nerves at bay. "Really? That's err fast and what about konner and grandma? Won't they want to come?" Clark's heart melted and burst all in one hearing you worry over your brother and grandmother. He was finally at ease. This wasn't a ruse you did think of them as family you did already love them. He'd ask his Ma about what was said but he doubts she'll tell him. But even if she didn't he's forever grateful to her because what ever was said has finally worked and for the first time he can truly say he felt like you'd accepted him as your new father and that meant the world to him. "Well they might but I have it on good authority that whilst we are having our father daughter weekend. Ma and konner are going to have fun of there own and spend the weekend in the city 'living it up' I have no doubt in my mind that they will be making good use of my savings...I have a feeling konner is going to wrangle himself a new xbox..." you looked down nervously the whole weekend? Alone with him. He moved his hand to ruffle your hair. "Hey...Its okay like I said we don't have to go flying, we do have to go to home depo tho ma still wants her makeshift greenhouse." You frowned he sounded defeated you turned facing him eye steely determined not to chicken out. This had to work, this was your home and you had to try harder. "I want to though...A-and like you said...You wont drop me I'd rather go flying for the first time with you rather then konner...He'd drop me just to catch me again and I'd probably piss myself" you muttered akwardly. "Then its settled! Tomorrow we go to the beach and take photos for your bedroom! Do you have a swimsuit? And some summer clothes it might be hot there and pack some suncream I wont have you burning! If you forget it your staying in the shade~" you smiled meekly at him nodding you did have a few summer clothes, some cotton shorts and a vest top should be fine. "Good you can pack a bag in the morning" he added grinning ear to ear finally feeling as though he had a chance to step in. You had opened the door and it was his job to make it stay that way. You crouched over the books with him feeling more and more confident as you began pointing out things in the books that you liked with him finally relaxing with him. Then it hit you like a truck. This really was it! Your very own room, your own home and a proper family.

You felt yourself getting choked up windpipe closing tightly only managing a few small hums in agreement as he pointed out different things colors and diy ideas. You took a deep breath trying to swallow the lump away from your throat. It was when tears blurred your vision and you sniffled trying to hold it back that Clark made his move wrapping you up in his arms all but dragging you out of your chair onto his lap. You wriggled trying to be released more out of habit then actually wanting to get away but he held firm tucking your head into his shoulder shushing you. "Your alright...I've got you I promise" he didn't speak after those words letting them sink in, he didn't need to say more then that his message was clear. You'd been accepted the fear and anxiety was melting away in one huge mass of relief as he just held you close one arm pinning you to him the other moving grabbing the pen that lived on the kitchen table and a small note pad used for shopping lists. He bit the lid off the pen and began writing a small list of what you'd need to get for your room. You tucked your face into him whining pitifully for the first time in years feeling truly safe and secure.

#superman x you #superman x teen reader #superman x y/n #clark kent x teen reader #clark kent x y/n #dc x teen reader

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Official Accounts Part 29 (Bakugo Route)- Heavy

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Masterlist

You walk into your apartment somewhat exhausted. You’d spent the whole day doing hardware fixes and tinkering with some of the new equipment the commission had sent over. You greatly preferred software so days you are primarily doing hardware work are always harder. For a moment you forget you aren’t occupying your home alone, and then suddenly you hear the sound of your kettle whistling. You wander into the kitchen to find Keigo grabbing out two mugs. His wings are finally starting to grow back in earnest although they’re still too small to fly with. Seeing them reminds you of small cherub wings almost and every so often you’ll catch him fluttering them just a little bit as if to confirm they’re really there. You notice a few of his feathers rifling through your tea cabinet to find your favorite before dropping a bag in each mug. The sight makes you smile.

“Isn’t your spot typically on the counter little techie?” Keigo asks, interrupting your thoughts as he pours the hot water. You hop up on the counter and take the mug he offers you. “That it is Kei,” you smile. “You sent your friends to check on me,” he replies casually as he moves to lean against the counter just like that first time the two of you had tea together. “I did,” you confirm. “Thank you. I hated it but I needed it. So thank you.”

The two of you lapse back into silence for awhile. It’s different this time. Not uncomfortable per say, but there’s a weight to the silence. You can tell Keigo wants to say something but can’t quite get himself to. Perhaps he’s searching for the perfect wording to express his thoughts. Perhaps he isn’t sure he’s truly ready to share them at all. Regardless, you wait patiently. You wait patiently even as your tea cools. You wait patiently even as you start to drink it. You’re still waiting patiently as you finish off your tea and Keigo’s grip tightens around his still full mug in apparent frustration. You put your own mug down before carefully prying Keigo’s away from him. He waits for the moment you ask what’s wrong, a sense of failure already sinking in because even with how much he’s let his guard down around you he still can’t completely let go. He dreads the moment you ask because he just knows he won’t be able to tell you and it will break your heart again. He braces himself. And then you ask your question: “Wanna get high for the first time?”

He blinks at you, surprised, and wonders how you do it. How did you know he wouldn’t be able to handle disappointing you again? “Sure,” he finally replies. “I’ll meet you on the balcony,” you tell him with a small smile before hopping off the counter and heading to your bedroom, where Denki had left the remaining weed from the party the other night. By the time you head to the balcony, the door is open and Keigo is sitting on the floor outside, staring up at the sky. You close the door behind you as you step out to join him before taking a seat next to him. He watches as you somewhat clumsily roll a joint for the two of you. “Denki has always been better at this than I am,” you chuckle sheepishly. “I think you’re doing great,” Keigo responds. “Of course you would. You have no idea what great rolling looks like,” you tease before procuring a lighter from your pocket. “Ok, so here’s how this goes,” you start, “if you don’t want to cough here’s the trick. First bring the smoke into your mouth, hold it there for a second, and then inhale more and bring it into your lungs. Got it?” “Got it.” “Good.”

You put the joint to your lips and carefully light it. You take your time drawing it in and Keigo can’t help but think there’s something strangely beautiful about the way you do it. When you’ve finished you pass it to him and watch as he carefully follows your directions. You resist the urge to giggle at how serious he looks. “Relax Keigo, that’s kind of the point,” you tease. He rolls his eyes but does his best to not think quite so much on his second hit. After you’ve each taken a few hits, you give him a considering look and then decide to address what had made you invite him to smoke with you in the first place. “Look I’m not saying you should make weed the answer every time you’re struggling to open up. I refuse to be the reason the number two hero picks up a drug addiction. But you also looked like you were going to give yourself an aneurysm trying to say whatever it is you wanted to say. So we’re going to sit here and smoke and it will mellow you out and if you decide you can and want to say whatever it is that was on your mind in the kitchen that’s great. If not, well, that’s fine too,” you assure him. The thank you Keigo gives you is quiet but genuine, and you cherish it all the more for it.

After an hour, Keigo finally speaks. “I owe you an explanation,” he confesses, but he won’t look you in the eyes. Instead he stares straight ahead, looking frustrated. “What do you mean?” you ask. “I owe you an explanation for why I did what I did but I can’t,” he pauses gritting his teeth and your heart breaks a little when you notice his eyes are watering, “I can’t make myself say it.” “It’s ok Keigo.” “No it’s not! Don’t you think you deserve to fucking know why I broke your heart?” “Of course I do!” “Then why are you saying it’s ok?” “Because you’re my friend!” “What if I want to be more than that.” “Romantic relationships aren’t more than platonic ones Kei. They’re just different.”

The two of you lapse back into a heavy silence. “I shouldn’t have yelled,” Keigo finally sighs once the silence becomes too much. “Lay down,” you tell him and he gives you a confused look but does as told anyway, you shift so his head is in your lap and then begin stroking through his hair. “You keep having to comfort me,” he notes with a certain amount of frustration. “That’s what friends are for,” you shrug. “I’m starting to think I’m a bad friend.” “You’re just still learning.” “That’s a nice way of putting it.” “Let’s talk about something else. No more heavy stuff,” you decide. “We could talk about how aggressively Endeavor doesn’t understand twitter and internet culture,” Hawks suggests half-jokingly. “I am way too high to talk about that asshole right now,” you reply rolling your eyes and then immediately realize your mistake. You freeze a little in place, your hand stilling in Keigo’s hair as he asks “What do you mean by that?” “Don’t worry about it Kei, neither of us are in the headspace to talk about it. I said no more heavy stuff.” “So whatever it is is heavy?” he presses as he sits back up. “I’m serious Kei. You’re not gonna like what I have to say, let’s just drop it for the night and we can talk about it later,” you sigh. “Or we can talk about it now.” “Drop it.” “Tell me.” “No.” “Tell me!” “No!” “(Y/n) I swear to god-“ “Endeavor was fucking abusive alright!?” you finally blurt out.

Keigo reels back as if you’ve struck him and it hurts to see. “No. No you’re lying,” he insists. “I’m not,” you sigh. “You have to be!” “Why would I lie about this?” “You’ve never liked Endeavor.” “Yea because I was in class with one of his sons who, by the way, can still barely stand him.” “That doesn’t mean he was abusive.” “No it doesn’t.” “Then what makes you so sure!”

You know he’s not going to like your answer but it’s too late to back out now. It hurts to fight with him and it hurts to see him looking so desperate for you to be wrong but you’re in too deep now, you have to finish the conversation. “Dabi told me,” you finally confess. “Oh well, if Dabi told you,” Hawks rolls his eyes. “Oh fuck you, don’t make it seem like I’m so gullible,” you fire back, getting angry now. “Maybe you are! Of course Dabi would say some shit like that. Anything to take down Endeavor.” “And why exactly do you propose he hates his father so much? If not because he was abusive.” “I don’t know! But you’re wrong about Endeavor, I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him! If he hadn’t saved me and-“ “Just because he saved you doesn’t mean he’s incapable of hurting someone else!” “I thought you were smarter than this!” “Yea well I thought you trusted me more than this so I guess we’re both disappointed!” you fire back.

The frustrated tears you’d been holding back finally start to fall and you hate it. You hate that you’re so angry, you hate that Hawks won’t see sense, and you hate that you’re crying. Regardless your tears are what finally make him realize how ugly the conversation is getting. “Shit, (y/n), I’m sorry I-“ “Don’t,” you cut him off before he can finish. You stand up without another word and go back inside, heading straight to your room and slamming the door behind you. The guilt crawling up Keigo’s throat is immediate. You had tried to warn him that now wasn’t the time for the conversation and instead he had pushed and insisted and now everything was fucked.

Mirko is going to kill him.

He pulls out his phone with every intention of calling her for advice on how to fix the mess he’s made but he stops as his eyes fall on Endeavor’s name instead. It’s a horrible idea. He still feels raw from his argument with you and Endeavor is probably asleep anyway. He should wait until tomorrow.

He doesn’t wait.

His heart starts racing in his chest as he selects Endeavor’s number and holds his phone up to his ear to wait. The line rings and rings and for a minute Keigo is convinced that Endeavor really won’t answer but then there’s a click and suddenly Endeavor’s rough voice is answering “Hello?” Keigo could swear his heart stopped beating altogether. This was a mistake. He should hang up and just call Mirko like his original plan was. But at the same time he needs to know. He needs to know he didn’t just blow up at you for no reason. “Hawks are you there? Are you in danger?” Endeavor tries again. “Is it true?” Keigo finally manages to ask and it’s so quiet he’s a little surprised Endeavor heard him. “Is what true?” Endeavor replies cautiously. Hawks feels his grip tighten on the phone as his stomach starts to sink. “Is it true what you did to Shoto and Dabi?” Hawks tries again. The line stays silent for a long time. Too long. “I’m trying to atone,” is all Endeavor says.

Hawks immediately hangs up the phone.

He can feel his world view crumbling around him as the pieces fall into place. It explains a lot. It explains why the HPSC has been so tight lipped about Dabi being Endeavor’s son, it explains why the son of a top hero would grow up to become a ruthless villain, it explains why Shoto so rarely interacts with his father. He should’ve just listened to you. Why didn’t he listen to you? He should apologize.

Hawks stands and goes back inside, closing the balcony door behind him. He has every intention of going to apologize and talk to you but instead he watches the front door close behind you as you leave the apartment without so much as a goodbye.

Author’s Note: OOF this hurt to write but I’m very excited to get started on the Bakugo route! If you read the main route there will be some similarities between the two (as you could tell from the first few paragraphs of this part) but obviously we’re gonna see some major deviations that lead to (y/n) ending up with Bakugo instead. I hope y’all enjoy!

Taglist [open]: @maltese-sparrow @someweirdshitman

#hopelessoa #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Needy ~ JJK [M] [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 2K

↬↬↬Genre: SMUTTTTTTTTT

↬↬↬Pairing: Jungkook x ShapeShifter!Reader

↬↬↬A/n: Hope this is okay for you @nochusyn we already talked in DM about changes made so I hope it’s still okay for you

Jungkook walked into the shared apartment he had with you and instantly knew what was going on, you'd done nothing but text him all day and now he knew why. He heard you from downstairs whining about how much you missed him to someone on the phone who he assumed to be your best friend who was also like you, a shapeshifter that could morph into a cat whenever you wanted. It was amazing but it came along with having the same qualities as a cat, you would come into season and become one of the whinest people in the world so he knew he was in for an eventful night that night.

"Baby? I'm home!" You hung up the phone instantaneously and rushed down to the stairs practically jumping into Jungkook's arms and kissing him passionately, you had no time for waiting around and beating around the bush you'd needed him all day and you didn't want to wait any longer.

"I've had a bad day at work baby, maybe later." You whined as he placed you down on the ground and walked into the living room, he sat down on the sofa rubbing the back of his neck where it hurt and you began to give him a massage. You were resisting the urge to sit on his lap and grind against him, the aching in your core had been bothering you all day but he said no so you had to respect that. Even if part of you was screaming out for him to touch you in any way he could.

"I'll run you a bath." You mumbled going over to the downstairs bathroom and turning on the taps, you added bubbles and bath salts before shouting him into the room. He came in shirtless and showing off his toned body and tattoos which he knew were your weakness and you let out an uncomfortable whine, getting needier and needier with every passing second.

"Thanks, baby, you're the best." He kissed your temple and you rushed out of the room so you couldn't get drawn into him any more. Everything about him only made you want him more so you rushed up to your room to try and distract yourself, you started with cleaning out the wardrobe but your mind kept wandering to him in the tub.

Jungkook smirked knowing that the longer he made you wait for him the better it would be for you and him later when he finally decided to give into you and fuck you. He began washing himself in the bath and thinking back to when he first met you four years ago.

"Jimin, put the cat down you don't even know where it's been or who it belongs to!" He yelled as Jimin brought a small black cat into his apartment. Jimin was leaving when he found it stranded outside in a box and he was determined to keep it safe,

"I'll come back for it tomorrow. I have a date tonight so just watch her until I'm back." Without another word Jimin left his apartment Jungkook was left with a small black cat in his arms staring up at him with wide eyes.

"I know, okay...I get it. I'm scared to and look I don't want you here as much as you don't want to be here so I'll just let you go." He went to put the cat down on the floor but it curled up in his arms snuggling against his chest, he frowned watching as it began purring loudly against him.

"You are kind of cute I guess. Fine. You can stay for one night and then you're going back to Jimin." He shifted in place so he was laying down against the leather sofa and he fell asleep with the cat in his arms.

You woke up the next morning from one of the best nights of sleep you'd had in a while and you moaned as you shifted over in your sleep coming face to face with someone's chest and almost letting out a scream until you looked up to see the one who had taken you in the night before laying there asleep.

"Shit." You whispered trying to get out of his arms but they were locked tightly around you, you'd gotten stuck in your cat form the night before and you were going to stay in the box for the night until you could make your way home but Jimin, as the boy called him, found you and brought you into the warm house. It was lovely but you were back in your human form and had to get out before he woke up and found you there,

"Hmm." Your eyes widened as you stared up at the guy and you froze you didn't have time to change back into your cat form and even if you did you weren't sure if you'd be stuck again.

"What the-" You jumped out of his arms the second he woke up and you asked him not to scream,

"Who are you?! How did you get into my house?!" You looked over at the door debating to just run for it but he'd already seen your face and could get a police sketch,

"I-I er-" The doorbell rang and you panicked jumping a little bit and that's when he noticed the choker around your neck, he moved closer to you and noticed it wasn't a choker it was the collar the black cat had been wearing the night before.

"Jungkook!" The voice at the door yelled and you stared at the man you now knew as Jungkook, he held eye contact with you as he continued walking over to the door,

"Don't go anywhere." He ordered and then turned to open the front door greeting Jimin who walked into the room and looked around for the small cat,

"She ran off, I tried to get her back." Jungkook lied looking at you the whole time, you stayed silent and Jimin looked at you and glanced you up and down.

"I wasn't aware you had company, I'll leave." With that Jimin left before you could thank him for rescuing you but you thought it might have been a bit weird if you had.

"Your choker is the same as the cat, so explain it all." You stared at him not knowing where to start or if he would even believe you so you stepped forward and he stared at you.

"Just don't freak out..." He nodded and you figured the best way to tell him about what you were would be to show him somehow, you got onto your knees in front of him and he stared down into your eyes watching as they flashed from their normal colour to a bright yellow with diamond-like slits down the centre which widened as you stared at him.

Jungkook walked into the bedroom to find you laying on the bed in one of your favourite silk nightgowns and you were reading a book, facing away from him since he'd been neglecting to give you any kind of attention since he'd walked through the door that night so you were going to avoid him now out of pettiness.

"You alright baby?" You hummed in response and pretended to be interested in the book you'd picked up but you weren't, your whole body was aching for Jungkook but you were going to fight it as much as you could. He came up behind you and laid down, spooning against you and pressing his hard member against your ass but you shifted so you couldn't feel it and he frowned. You never moved away from his touch, ever.

"What's wrong?" You ignored him again and rolled over turning off the lamp and shutting your book, trying to go to sleep and ignore the yearning you had for him so you closed your eyes.

Halfway through the night, you woke up and you knew you needed him more than ever. His scent was drawing you in and you turned over to find him asleep beside you,

"Jungkook." You whispered moving over to him and swinging one leg over his, you whimpered as you bare skin came into contact with his and he shifted in his deep sleep.

"Kookie." You whined in his ear straddling him and grinding yourself down onto him to create some friction for yourself you let out a whimper as you felt him grow beneath you and you smiled to yourself. Finally relieved to get a little tension away from your needy core so you began to grind your core against his shorts let out small whimpers whenever the fabric would rub you in just the right way.

"Is my little kitten feeling needy again?" You whimpered as his cold hands came into contact with your red hot skin,

"I need you." He groaned pushing his hips up and grinding his hard cock against your ass,

"I know baby you've soaked through my boxers." You whimpered as he slid off his boxers and began kissing you roughly, you ground your hips down so you could feel him pressing against your bare core and you smirked as you felt him twitching.

"Do you want me now?" You pouted pulling away from him and lining him up at your entrance, his hip just touching you but he was already hissing underneath you.

"I've needed you since I came home, I just wanted to tease you." You whined out and sunk down onto him slowly not having the patience to wait any longer.

"Fuck." You whined out digging your nails into his shoulders as you tried to ride him. Jungkook smirked up at you knowing you weren't going to last long while riding him, you could never bring yourself to cum because the build-up was too much for you.

"You're so tight, Y/n." He groaned as he pushed up into you reaching deeper than before, you whimpered as you felt every inch against your walls making you clench tighter.

"M-Moan my name again." You begged and he smirked slowly moaning out your name and making you clench around him. He could tell you were already getting closer to your release so he pulled out of you ignoring your pleas and he turned you around thrusting back into you deeply making you cry out as he hit your hilt with every single thrust into you.

"Shit baby, you gonna cum?" You nodded as you felt your stomach tightening with each thrust into you, your nails dug into the sheets beside you and your nails began tearing holes into them.

"G-G-Gonna cum." You whimpered as he lifted your leg up over his shoulder angling himself deeper into you, you were crying out his name and he smirked hearing his name roll from your mouth repeatedly.

"Cum for me kitten." The knot in your stomach came undone and you came around him crying out his name loudly and cumming around him as he continued to fuck you through your high. Spilling into you at the same time making you whimper when you felt the hot seed falling from you. He pulled out of you and wrapped you both in a blanket laying behind you so he could spoon you but you groaned feeling gross and sweaty,

"I need to shower." You whispered to him hoping he would let you go and have a shower but he pulled you back against him tightly and kissed the base of your neck, sucking and leaving a trail of kisses up and down your neck,

"Who said I was done kitten, it wasn't just you who was left needy earlier." He growled in your ear rubbing his already hard cock against your slit again, up and down your folds so you would know what was coming before slamming himself back inside of you and making you cry out gripping onto the sheets in front of you you were both in for a long night.

tagline;

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @chimchims-stories-and-tales @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @btsiguess-kpop @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii

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broccoliboix5peepeeman · 3 years

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IDK if someone else already requested this prompt, but can I have a scenario where Eijirō accidentally becomes Izuku's secret Santa because of a misunderstanding??? That's all I wanted to say, TYSM & ILYSM 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 (Platonic KiriDeku) - btw, I've read your previous prompts & they're all sooo good!!!! My favorites are It's Always Been You, Disclosure, Forgive Me, Burning Need, The Rabbit and the Tiger, & Recipe for Disaster 😍😍😍🤩🤩🤩

*Frantically scrambles to get this done before Christmas becomes completely irrelevant* Bibbidi bobbidi boo, it is done, friendo! 😘 This is my first Kirishima POV so fingers crossed it turned out alright :’) (Also, thank you so much, I’m sobbing?! That really warms my heart - I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed them! 💖💖💖)

Eijirou never claimed to be the brightest bulb on the planet.

Granted, it wasn’t through lack of trying; some things just came easier to him than others. For example, when Ectoplasm was spouting about letters which had no right to be in maths, he felt like ripping his hair out - he always refrained though, his hair took way too long to style only for him to mess it up over algebra. However, put him in a gym and ask him about the different muscle groups and he’d be able to recite them with ease.

His strengths just laid elsewhere.

So, when Iida announced something to the class in the common room, Eijirou was too busy watching a workout video on his phone to pay attention. It wasn’t until the class rep wandered over with a bowl full of paper that he realised he probably should’ve been listening.

‘Err… Hey, Mr Class Rep!’ He laughed awkwardly.

‘Good evening, Kirishima-san.’ Iida nodded in greeting and held the bowl out expectantly. ‘Time to pick out a name. Remember, you’re not allowed to tell anyone who you’ve got. As heroes in training, it is important that we are able to keep confidential information a secret.’

Eijirou saluted, before dipping his hand in and picking out a piece of paper. He curiously opened it to find “Midoriya” scrawled out messily on the page. When he confirmed that he hadn’t picked out his own name, Iida said his goodbye and moved on to the next person.

Once alone, Eijirou looked down at the paper crumpled in his hands, the ink staring mockingly at him. He really should’ve been paying attention, but he didn’t want to ask what was happening and risk everyone being disappointed in him. Maybe he could just figure it out based on what he had already heard?

Iida had mentioned keeping it a secret. He also brought up them being heroes in training. Maybe that meant a training event was happening soon! Eijirou furrowed his eyebrows together. They usually didn’t plan things this far ahead though…

‘Hey, Iida!’ He called. ‘When’s this happening?’

‘The evening of the 24th!’ He chopped the air as he spoke. ‘The 25th would be too hectic.’

‘Great, thanks!’ Eijirou gave him a thumbs up to accentuate his point.

When the attention was directed away from him, he sighed and looked across the room at where Midoriya was talking excitedly to Todoroki.

If this was a training exercise, then Eijirou would have to up his game. Besides Bakugou and Crimson Riot, Midoriya was the manliest person he knew and had proved himself to be a formidable opponent time and time again. In order to best him, Eijirou would need to work extra hard and give it his all.

He hastily stuffed the piece of paper in his pocket and stood, excusing himself.

He needed to hit the gym.

💪💪

Six days after he had picked out Midoriya’s name, Eijirou was fairly confident that he could give his opponent a good fight. He just needed one extra push. He needed to train with someone - or someones - who knew Midoriya and his fighting style.

‘Hey Bakubro! Todoroki!’ He called.

His two classmates were in the kitchen; neither appeared to have heard him. Bakugou stood by the oven, wok and wooden spoon in his hands as he cooked something spicy, while Todoroki sat at the counter opposite, conjuring small pebbles of ice and throwing them at the blonde’s back.

‘I swear to fucking All Might, Icyhot, if you don’t cut that out, I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.’ He growled dangerously.

‘I'd like to see you try, bitch.’ Todoroki replied nonchalantly, aiming for the back of his head.

Before Bakugou could respond, however, Eijirou decided to intervene.

‘Hey guysss!’ He called out again, rushing forwards and standing between them. The two looked at him confused, but nodded in greeting. ‘I need your help with something.’

‘Why you asking Icyhot?’ Bakugou growled. ‘Ask me instead, Shittyhair!’

‘Jealous?’ Todoroki raised an eyebrow.

‘It’s important I talk to both of you!’ Eijirou laughed nervously and patted the blonde on the shoulder. ‘Well, I say talk… What I mean is… I need your help for training.’

‘Anything in particular?’ Todoroki asked.

‘Well, I’m not supposed to say, but...’ He hesitated. It would be fine if he told them, right? It wasn't like either of them couldn't keep a secret. ‘When we were drawing names last week, I got Midoriya, and you guys know his fighting style best, so I was hoping to spar with you both to improve my training for when I face him.’

The silence in the room was almost deafening, until...

'Dammit, I wanted to get Midoriya.' Todoroki whispered as if Eijirou couldn't hear him.

Bakugou merely huffed.

‘So you’re telling me that you got stupid Deku for your Secret Santa and your immediate reaction was to fight him?’ He finally asked, looking at him like he had grown a second head. 'You know what? No. I'm proud of you.'

‘Secret Santa?’ Eijirou tilted his head to the side. When Bakugou facepalmed in response, he turned to find Todoroki raising an eyebrow, clearly amused.

‘Didn’t you hear Iida explain it?’ He asked, voice even.

‘Not really, but I didn’t want to ask.’ He chuckled nervously. ‘But I assumed that if Iida had organised it, it had to be something to do with training, so I’ve been hitting the gym more because I wanted to put up a good fight, but now I realise that I have to...’

He trailed off and his smile faltered as his eyes widened with realisation. ‘Now I have until tomorrow to get Midoriya a present.’

‘I wouldn’t worry too much.’ Todoroki spoke, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Midoriya is really easy to buy for.’

‘You buy him stuff often?’ Eijirou furrowed his eyebrows together in question.

‘Icyhot has a fucking hard-on for stupid Deku, if you haven’t noticed.’ Bakugou tsked.

‘And you have a hard-on for Kirishima.’ Todoroki replied easily, before turning to Eijirou. ‘Sorry about that, by the way.’

‘Moving on!’ Bakugou exclaimed angrily before Eijirou could process any of what had just occurred. ‘Deku likes heroes and All Might. Literally get him something related to that and happy fucking days.’

‘It’s important to know what he’s already got though.’ Todoroki urged. ‘He already has the official bronze-age, silver-age and golden-age All Might figurines, including the pop vinyl figures. He also has five rare limited edition All Might-’

Eijirou’s brain was starting to do that thing again where it just kind of switched off. He was interested in what Todoroki had to say, honest, he just had trouble processing the fact that Todoroki had the capability of actually speaking more than two sentences at a time.

His eyes must’ve glazed over, because Bakugou suddenly whacked him around the back of the head to snap him out of it.

‘ugh, this is so difficult.’ Eijirou moaned, hiding his face in his hands. ‘So basically he has every single piece of All Might merchandise that a normal person can afford.’

‘I mean, when you put it like that...’ Todoroki stroked his chin, contemplative. ‘You could try and find him merch for other heroes though. As long as it’s not Endeavour, I think he’ll be happy.’

At that moment, a thought struck Eijirou. It was an idea unlike any other. He knew that in the years to come, people would ask him, 'Red Riot, what was your best idea?' and he would immediately think of this moment. It was like the first time he had discovered the beauty of hair spray.

It was a revelation.

‘I have the perfect idea!’ He proclaimed, startling both of his friends. Before either of them could respond though, he quickly thanked them and booked it out of the kitchen.

All it’ll cost me is several boxes of tea!

💪💪

After several hours of pleading with Yaoyorozu, bargaining with Jirou on her behalf, one roll of wrapping paper and way too much tape later, Eijirou placed his present in the designated bag in the common room and collapsed onto one of the sofas, ready to fall asleep. However, Iida’s booming voice soon echoed through the room, startling him.

‘All right! Now that everyone’s presents have been put in the bag, it is time for the Secret Santa exchange!’ His hands chopped through the air as Kaminari stealthily placed a Santa's hat on the class rep’s head without him noticing. ‘Midoriya-san, if you could help me hand out the presents while everyone else gets settled, I would be very grateful!’

‘Of course, Iida-kun!’ Eijirou saw Midoriya sprint over, an eager smile on his lips. However, he tried to hide his snigger when his friend's actions only prompted Iida to lecture him about running inside.

Soon enough, all the presents were handed out and everyone was settled on the sofas and carpet cushions. After opening his own present and finding an erotic Santa×Reader novella called Spanked by Santa inside, Eijirou's eyes instantly landed on Kaminari and the two sniggered to themselves.

'Bro, really?'

'I don't know what you're talking about, man!'

'I know this was you!'

When the two of them calmed down, Eijiro turned and watched as Midoriya struggled to unwrap his present. His crooked hands tried to navigate his way around the mass of tape and Eijrou felt incredibly guilty. Luckily, Todoroki was sitting next to him and helped rip the hardest parts away, only sending Eijirou an exasperated glance once, which he thought was pretty good going.

He leant forwards in his seat and waited for the moment of realisation and oh boy, he was so glad that he did. Wrapping paper torn off, Midoriya stared at the present with wide emerald eyes and let out a shocked gasp.

In his hands was the first ever hero Deku figurine - trademark and copyright Yaoyorozu Momo - ever to exist. Eijirou watched as his friend turned the figure around in his hands, noticing every detail, from the hints of red that poked out from his iron soles, to his white air force gloves, to the yellow bolts fastened to his knee pads, and to the respirator around his neck. A smile appeared on Midoriya’s face and his eyes shone brightly…

Then he promptly burst out crying.

Uraraka and Todoroki, who were sitting either side of their friend, promptly procured two buckets from behind them and held them up, catching the flood of tears pouring from Midoriya’s eyes, while Tsu came up behind him and slid a waterproof coat over his Christmas jumper.

Had they expected this?

Startled, Eijirou leaped off the sofa and ran over to them, scrambling over the mass of presents and wrapping paper scattered around the floor.

‘Midoriya! Oh my god, are you okay?!’ He grasped his friend’s shoulders and shook him slightly as he continued to openly sob. ‘I’m so sorry, do you hate it? Man, I didn’t mean to make you cry-’

‘Kirishima-kun...’ Midoriya slowly calmed himself, reducing the flood of tears down to a slight drizzle as he wiped at his eyes with a waterproof sleeve. ‘I- I love it! I love it so much! Thank you!’

Eijirou stilled, slowly removing his hands from his friend’s shoulders.

’You… You do?’

‘Really, really!’ Midoriya sniffed, eyes now dry and staring at Eijirou with so much gratitude that he had to refrain from placing a hand over his heart and wincing at the intensity. ‘You’re so thoughtful - thank you so much!’

‘No problem, dude!’ Eijirou rubbed the back of his neck and smiled nervously. ‘You’re one of the best heroes out there. It’s only fair that there’s some merch of you out there as well, haha!’

Before he could comprehend what was happening, green lightning suddenly began to crackle around Midoriya as he surged forwards and tackled Eijirou to the floor. His friend hugged his waist tightly and cried freely into his shirt. Not knowing how to proceed, Eijirou gingerly returned the hug and smiled dopily.

So manly.

#kirishima eijirou #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shoto #minor tododeku #minor kiribaku #AgarJelly writes #lovely people #christmas fic #secret santa #the SS book was a present i received back in uni haha #platonic kirideku

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gabtapia · 3 years

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Warning extra long ask lmao:

The last three chapters broke me. 😭😭😭

But the worse thing was reading first two paragraphs of ch 31 and having it go from Patroclus’s narrative to third person narrative because Patroclus is dead so he can’t tell the story anymore 🥺🥺😭

I have so much to say so i’m gonna use quotes to help:

“A prophecy,” she said. “That the best of the Myrmidons will die before two more years have passed.”

She draws down the blanket, releasing me into the air. She cups my face in her hands. “Be careful tomorrow,” she says. “Best of men. Best of the Myrmidons.” She places her fingers to my lips, stopping my objection. “It is truth,” she says. “Let it stand, for once.” Then she leads me to the side of her tent, helps me slip beneath the canvas. The last thing I feel is her hand, squeezing mine in farewell.

No. My hands flurry in the air like startled birds, trying to halt the spear’s relentless movement towards my belly. But I am weak as a baby against Hector’s strength, and my palms give way, unspooling in ribbons of red. The spearhead submerges in a sear of pain so great that my breath stops, a boil of agony that bursts over my whole stomach. My head drops back against the ground, and the last image I see is of Hector, leaning seriously over me, twisting his spear inside me as if he is stirring a pot. The last thing I think is: Achilles.

WHY??? Why does Patroclus have to be the person of the prophecy. They made it pretty obvious that it was him but my God actually reading it I-

Calm down Chiara. Say this properly.

WAIT NO THERE IS NO WAY TO SAY THS PROPERLY PARTOCLUS IS DEAD 😭 AND THE FEW PARTS WHERE ACHILLES DOESN’T KNOW HE’S DEAD YET MY GOD I JUST STARTED BAWLING IT HURT TOO MUCH

HIS GRIEF AFTER PATROCLUS DIES IS JUST SO RAW I COULD LTERALLY IMAGNINE PATROCLUS IN THE TENT AND ACHILLES CRYING OVER HIS BODY AND MY HEART-

But he cannot feel it. There is a numbness in him. The writhing field is like a gorgon’s face, turning him slowly to stone. The snakes twist and twist before him, gathering into a dark knot at the base of Troy. A king has fallen, or a prince, and they are fighting for the body. Who? He shields his eyes, but no more is revealed. Patroclus will be able to tell him.

HE SEES THE THING IN PIECES. Men, coming down the beach towards the camp. Odysseus, limping beside the other kings. Menelaus has something in his arms. A grass-stained foot hangs loose. Locks of tousled hair have slipped from the makeshift shroud. The numbness now is merciful. A last few moments of it. Then, the fall.

He snatches for his sword to slash his throat. It is only when his hand comes up empty that he remembers: he gave the sword to me. Then Antilochus is seizing his wrists, and the men are all talking. All he can see is the bloodstained cloth. With a roar he throws Antilochus from him, knocks down Menelaus. He falls on the body. The knowledge rushes up in him, choking off breath. A scream comes, tearing its way out. And then another, and another. He seizes his hair in his hands and yanks it from his head. Golden strands fall onto the bloody corpse. Patroclus, he says, Patroclus. Patroclus. Over and over until it is sound only. Somewhere Odysseus is kneeling, urging food and drink. A fierce red rage comes, and he almost kills him there. But he would have to let go of me. He cannot. He holds me so tightly I can feel the faint beat of his chest, like the wings of a moth. An echo, the last bit of spirit still tethered to my body. A torment.

I’M MAD AT BOTH OF THEM FOR BEING STUPID IDOITS FOR ACHILLES NOT LETTING HIS PRIDE GO AND FOR PATROCLUS FUCKING GETTING HIMSELF KILLED BUT I CAN’T EVEN STAY MAD AT THEM BECUASE HELL THEY ARE SO BEAUTIFUL AND THEY DIDN’T DESERVE ANY OF IT

And then Pyrrhus? I want to kill the asshole:

“When I am dead, I charge you to mingle our ashes and bury us together.”

There's is a slight pause. “Your father and his companion. Patroclus.” “And why should this man be buried beside Aristos Achaion?” The air is thick. They are all waiting to hear Menelaus’ answer. “It was your father’s wish, Prince Neoptolemus, that their ashes be placed together. We cannot bury one without the other.” Pyrrhus lifts his sharp chin. “A slave has no place in his master’s tomb. If the ashes are together, it cannot be undone, but I will not allow my father’s fame to be diminished. The monument is for him, alone.” Do not let it be so. Do not leave me here without him. The kings exchange glances. “Very well,” Agamemnon says. “It shall be as you say.” I am air and thought and can do nothing.

Pyrrhus’ hand closes on the shapeless, blowing dress of the princess Polyxena and yanks her towards the altar. “This is what my father’s soul deserves.” He will not. He dare not. As if in answer, Pyrrhus smiles. “Achilles is pleased,” he says, and tears open her throat. I can taste it still, the gush of salt and iron. It seeped into the grass where we are buried, and choked me. The dead are supposed to crave blood, but not like this. Not like this.

And then the way Achilles just becomes a cold killer after Patroclus dies reading that part felt so bad because it wasn’t Achilles anymore and i was so glad when he died. But then Patroclus didn’t get a proper bury and i freaked because why??? I thought the book might end with him not being reunited with Achilles in the underworld and i had another good cry because seriously that would be the most unfair thing. I was so, so, so happy when Thetis wrote his name.

So basically i’m not okay right now and ever time i think about them before the war happen my eyes fill with tears because they were just so happy and innocent and in love and it hurts to think of what happened during the war. I’m glad i read this book thought, but i know the pain wont go away for a while watch me punish myself by reading all the fluffy scenes 😭

@in-love-with-themoon did you finish yet? I realize i may be spoiling for you, sorry about that! 😅 tell me if your finished the book! And i will send you bunches and bunches of tissues

Sending you lots of love, hugs, ice cream, and tissues!! 💙

I swear I had to take a break after reading that book

The last 3 chapters are just pain

Tbh I was crying since they said goodbye to Chiron because Achilles told him that they were going to come back in a few days and I was like nope you are not and even Chiron knew they weren't coming back 😭😭😭

Since the prophecy said that "the best of myrmidons" I was like fuck is Patroclus and this is bad

The scene that broke me was when Patroclus said that they didn't say the words (I love you) because they would have more time to say them, like in the night when they talk about their day and I was like please tell him 😭😭😭😭😭

THE MOST PAINFUL THING IS THAT EVEN WHEN PATROCLUS KNEW HE WAS GONNA DIE, HE TRIED TO STOPPED HECTOR BECAUSE HE KNEW THAT IF HECTOR KILLED HIM, ACHILLES WOULD KILLED HECTOR AND THE ACHILLES WOULD DIE AND HE DIDN'T WANT THAT 😭😭

AND OMG I WAS SO MAD WITH THEM, WITH ACHILLES FOR BEING SO STUBBORN AND WITH PATROCLUS FOR FIGHTING EVEN WHEN HE KNEW HE DIDN'T STAND A CHANCE!!! 😭

YES I KNOW WHEN ACHILLES IS SURE THAT PATROCLUS IS GONNA COME BACK AND EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE FINE, BUT WE KNOW THAT HE IS ALREADY DEAD 😭😭😭😭

ACHILLES GRIEVE BROKE ME HOW HE DIDN'T WANT TO SEPARATE FROM THE BODY AND HOW HE JUST WANTED TO KILL HECTOR AS SOON AS POSSIBLE

AND I WAS CRYING MY EYES OUT WHEN HECTOR'S FATHER TALKED WITH ACHILLES AND TOLD HIM THAT THEY SHOULD LET THE DEAD REST, AND ONLY AFTER THAT ACHILLE AGREED TO BURN THE BODY 😭😭😭

WHEN ACHILLES DIED WITH A SMILE ON HIS FACE BECAUSE HE THOUGHT THAT FINALLY HE COULD BE REUNITED WITH PATROCLUS 😭😭😭

Don't let me get started with Pyrrhus I hate that jerk so much I was happy when thetis said he was dead!, When he was taking decisions on his father's name I was like stfu you don't even know him!!

And for real I thought they would never be reunited and that Patroclus' soul would be strand in the living world forever I was crying but then thetis appeared and for once in the whole book she wasn't a bitch!

Yes before the war they would never imagine what the fate had for them and it's so sad because they just wanted to love each other, and their love was so beautiful and I love their communication because no matter how bad the things were they always tell the truth to the other 😭😭😭

Believe me I already reread their fluffy scenes and it's never enough! 😭

I'm glad you enjoy the book too, even when it left us with a void in the heart!!

#Chia 💙#asks #the song of achilles spoilers #the song of achilles #tw caps

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