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tehamelie · 1 month

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I can't count the reasons I should stay (Community 1.4)

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I got a new mouse today! Such a change, getting to click on stuff just one time instead of 3-10 times, and dragging and marking text without problems. Anyway, this post is like twice as long as any other in this series and it's all for you. Any delays in the schedule I have not in fact said a word about are because of the troubles I had without any money in the bank, and my bad mouse.

Community S1E4: Social psychology

We open with Señor Chang writing some absolutely incomprehensible squiggles on his blackboard. I think I see some traces of both Chinese and Korean writing but definitely no actual written language going on. You can tell Ken Jeong is a Doctor in real life hue hue.

Jeff goes out of his way to avoid having to converse with Shirley. Seems mean even by his default mode of trying not to be involved in the group. Or could it be that he's started caring about these people and that makes it hard to just tune them out?

A "stoner tree" is something every school needs right? There we meet Vaughn, who's got so many things going on it seems like a joke in itself, a short lived side character with honestly more personality than some main characters have shown so far. (I had to think it over hard to remember Annie was even in the last episode.) Vaughn's shirtless, triple-hello-saying, hacky-sack-champion, antioxidant-chasing hippie ways are very seductive to Britta and I guess we should be worried on Jeff's behalf. But I'm too busy giggling at Vaughn managing to somehow fall over and go flying to the ground in a casual game of hacky-sack. Okay when you go frame by frame you can see him attempting to hit the ball with a jump kick and landing on his ass, but a) that's not a move you'd generally expect in this game of gently lobbing a tiny soft ball around with your foot while standing still, and b) to a casual viewer he just appears in the background with a scream, in the middle of eating shit for no discernible reason.

Aaugh, the intro is cut down to just the final appearance of the Community title. That's not gonna work.

Annie brings us the main plot: professor Duncan's psych experiment. It may be the first time we see Annie Edison outside of the study group, but thinking about it, what we see isn't new: She's very excited, she badly wants to excel at the things she does, she doesn't seem to know how to stop talking even when she wants to, she deeply cares about people but sometimes she forgets that in all the excitement. And she's embarrassed when Duncan reveals he thinks she's hitting on him.

"I asked politely and the panda took his pants off" is all we hear of Vaughn's story. I wonder how real it is. On one hand, he seems perpetually stoned and there may not have been a panda or any pants involved except he thought there was, but on the other, he may well lead an enchanted life where something like that happens and it's just a funny story. He's an enigma.

Then Pierce proudly displays his earnoculars. I'm old enough to remember when they sold such spy devices in children's toy stores, and I wanted them then. It's such a temptation to see what people get up to when they think they're alone, isn't it? The thrill, to me, is the idea of seeing what people are like when they don't have to pretend to anyone. To see if there's something I'm missing in human behaviors. Not that you can, you know, with an adult understanding of ethics and boundaries. It's just the appeal of the idea.

Of course Pierce only wants to know what everyone's saying about him. And it doesn't work out for him because he assumes everyone's talking about him all the time and misunderstands everything cause he puts it in that context. The moral here is "a little knowledge can be dangerous."

But I'm getting ahead. At first all we're seeing is wearing a radar dish on his ear makes it hard for Pierce to hear anything reliably and to locate the source of what he can hear. Annie wants test subjects; Jeff immediately declines, Troy hesitantly agrees even though they don't "do stuff to your butt", and Abed goes along with it so they'll be Friends. And maybe they'll even be friends.

"I thought we were like Chandler and Phoebe" he says. Certainly Abed is the Phoebe, aka the kooky one, but trying to think of Annie as the Chandler, the "funny" one, is wrinkling my brain. As far as crushing these rich flawed human characters into one of the six weird stereotypes of Friends go, Annie is totally the Ross, aka the nervous one.

Vaughn seems to convert Britta to drinking green tea, which, I've tried to make it but I don't think I ever got the temperature right. It's really delicate and not that exciting to drink. But if you're paying several dollars per cup to have someone else make drinks for you I guess I could make it a habit in order to be healthy. She said, carefully rationing the last liter of Pepsi max she's going to get on this Sunday so she wouldn't run out of caffeine before the stores opened on payday.

But anyway, this scandalous news delivered by the excited Pierce who stealthily overheard it from like two whole cafeteria tables away, is such a delightful image that sums up just what we said previously about the low stakes world of Community.

Over to Duncan's indulgent, self-serving, questionably ethical little experiment that consists of the class watching a video feed of a room full of people slowly losing their shit. They should have some popcorn cause this is pure pop psychology: Telling your test subjects the test is almost ready to begin for hour after hour to see how long it takes before they give up. He even calls it "the Duncan Principle" and explains it in Freudian terms that haven't seen any clinical use in like 75 years. Duncan might not be very good at his job I think. Hey, this is the first appearance of Garret, the man who is "like if God spilled a human," and he is true to form from the start.

The subjects are getting $80 for this? I'd be sitting all day. I'm used to waiting. Used to have to wait for the bus home for over two hours after school sometimes. One time I waited for a bus I didn't even have to take, I just wanted to get into town and spend some money. It was -30°C outside and the bus was over half an hour late. I was even there too early, probably spending 45 minutes standing at the bus stop all told. Another girl showed up at a more reasonable time, and left soon, but I just waited until the bus came. She got Duncan Principled, but I didn't. A warm room with a reasonably comfortable chair? That's nothing.

I like Chang, who of course doesn't lose his shit cause he's shitless by default. But five minutes into the exercise when he gives up, he uses nine fingers to say "nuevo". That reflex of counting on his hands whenever he says a number is deep in there, considering he isn't a real teacher.

Jeff, betrayed by his shoelaces, finally has to spend five minutes alone with Shirley and he hates it so much ("Do you like green--" "You have a kid right?" "What was that?" "Nothing.") until they discover how easy it is to make fun of Vaughn.

Back in the torture chamber, yeah, with only Troy and Abed left of the test subjects the class has given up all pretense. Donald Glover (Troy) does a wonderful job of turning into an incoherent yet hilarious mess both verbally and psychically. Pure improvisation, I'm assuming.

Good thing Vaughn doesn't believe in earnoculars cause Shirley and Jeff gossip relentlessly about him while he makes out in the grass with Britta about three meters away. There follows an awkward conversation that's hilarious to me for completely unrelated reasons - a fake commercial in a Swedish comedy movie once tried to sell laundry detergent to men by asking "Do you have trouble with grass stains on your wife after coitus on the lawn?"

Such drama: Britta recognizes the awkwardness of talking with Jeff about her having a thing with Vaughn, because something something sparks of romance. Okay I may be way too cynical about this but I'm just not seeing why these two on any level think they could or should have a relationship. Maybe Britta senses in Jeff a rebel who will fight the power (for his own gain), but that has to be balanced against a 5-95% ratio of him being an authority figure in the form of a cocksure wealthy young white man. Whereas we know Jeff legitimately has no interest in relationships or feelings or other human beings in general but keeps pursuing Britta because he's read the script gotten hung up on the challenge of winning her over or something.

But when we look at the concrete situation here, team BJ. No wait. Team JB. That's even worse. Jefitta? That works as long as you don't speak Swedish. Okay, Jeff and Britta are making a deliberate effort to be friends and act with consideration towards each other even though they are dealing with some messy feelings and human relationships that they realize they don't have the tools to deal with. That's kind of beautiful.

Cut to Shirley and Jeff's gossiping frenzy. It's pretty funny how Shirley clocks Jeff's reluctance to rip on Vaughn (just because Britta likes him, aww) after Shirley says something about him and Jeff doesn't respond in literally under two seconds.

"It's not gossip if it's fact"? Come on Shirley, don't stand here and be wrong. Here's a fun educational tidbit for this episode: You can in fact commit libel even if you're only saying truthful factual things. Like, if I were to describe Joanne Rowling as an ambulatory meat tube containing several kilograms of disgusting microbes and infectious disease, that would be a fact. But a careful reader may discern it becomes an unflattering and dishonest representation for several reasons including because it leaves out a lot of things.

Over in Duncan's deranged experiment, I'm feeling a bit of Duncan's despair because I put the episode on pause for the night at an earlier point and it feels like I'm right there in the room when we learn Abed has been sitting and waiting in an empty room for 26 hours. Unexpected bonus.

Impressive stamina on the part of Abed and everyone who's still here watching after all that time. I'm going to have to amend my previous take on what I'd do in this situation: In my younger days I'd be right in Abed's shoes. But today I'm 43, I think I'm all out of all nighters, but I'm also much less worried about upsetting people I don't love with all my heart so I'd probably walk out of the room and try to get some information. The idea was to get 80 beans for being part of a study, after all. I've not been told I'm gonna be disqualified if I leave the room or anything. I don't see a problem with taking steps to discern what the delay is, what is being done to address it and if anyone knows how long it's going to take, and would it be a problem if I went to stretch my legs, have a meal and possibly sleep for nine hours?, or at the very least see how far I can go to find these things out before it puts my 80 clams at risk.

Of course, the point is just to flip the script on Duncan and have him lose his shit in the face of Abed's stoicism. Statistical outliers always ruin the day of people who think they have people all figured out and under control. His final conclusion, that Annie has "destroyed the Duncan principle" by accidentally finding one person who by demonstration contradicts his silly idea of having a soul read on the general human condition, is sort of frightening. In a Dr Frankenstein placing himself above the timid morality of society kind of way.

Or maybe he's just a drunk throwing a tantrum.

Over to Jeff making friends with Vaughn. What makes Frisbee ultimate? "Oh, if I had a nickel for every time I wished someone asked me that." I realize now I probably quote that line more than everything else from this show put together. It should be the national motto of people who are into stuff nobody else cares about.

Enter Shirley, who prompts Vaughn to take his shirt off in about 4 seconds so she and Jeff can snicker internally at his tiny nipples, although Jeff resists. Kind of telling how gleefully Shirley responds when Jeff tells her she's the Devil, in a your exclusionary religious evangelism is such an obvious front for just smugly judging people way. But we'll probably get more into to that later with Shirley.

A rare scene of Jeff reading a textbook! He seems to actually try to figure his Spanish out. He seems to even be ahead of Britta who he corrects about the days of the week. It could be she's just very preoccupied thinking about Vaughn's penis. She lapses into one of the most intensely psychosexual scenes I have ever seen in movies or TV (maybe just behind that home dentistry in the bathtub scene in The Handmaiden), where she talks about the things Vaughn says "after." Only lasts for a moment, but I'm considering making the effort to get a screenshot just to show you, dear reader*. (Really wishing I had just put the DVD in my PC.) (How did I think this was going to work?) (If you're now wondering about the one shot I show in the post for episode 1, I stole it from the draft of the last time I tried this and never finished episode 1.)

Aanyway, it's just a friendly talk about Vaughn's terrible poetry, thinks Britta, but Jeff cannot resist the gossip covertly shares it. To be fair, rhyming "did ya" with "Britta" is awful and it makes me think less of Vaughn than I already did.

Troy now learns the experiment he thought he bailed on was the experiment. So we'll just casually chalk up terrible follow-up on the big board of professor Duncan's bad psych teacher skills. Did they really just let people have emotional breakdowns and walk out without telling them what was going on in there? Yikes.

Indeed, Britta seems to feel bad about it as soon as Abed (who went through it about 23 hours longer than anyone else did) tells her he put up with it only because she said they were friends.

Now Pierce, predictably, confronts everyone about the things he's wrongly overheard. Most of the fun here is Troy in the background trying to figure out if he's still a test subject.

I think we get a first taste here of why the Greendale Seven is in the "Chaotic Neutral" square of the great sitcom protagonists alignment chart. They are in the middle of ripping on Vaughn (okay, mostly his poem, but then he obviously bared his soul in that one) with some sharp, mean-spirited, dehumanizing barbs. Without giving a care when he enters the room. We immediately see how the group's toxicity ruins Britta's relationship then and there, and Vaughn is really not happy about it. ("This is the least tight thing that's ever happened to me.")

Britta is never going to forgive me. I can't believe I showed you that poem. Oh my God, my life is Degrassi High.

The timing really makes this line. It takes Jeff no time at all to figure it out. As soon as he says the words he understands his life has become a bad high school drama TV show and he's maybe more upset about that than about letting Britta down.

But actually when I see this I can only think of the outtakes of the scene, where Joel McHale (that's Jeff) flubs his line, turns to Yvette Nicole Brown (Shirley) and screams "Fuck you!" and then has to quickly explain he was in fact talking to himself. Brown is so classy about it, just making a theatrical "are you talking to me?" face with fingertips on her chest and giving him a chance to straighten out. Must be a weird method he has, based on vocal self-hate. Anyway. Just what I'm thinking about.

Shirley feels bad, she acknowledges her gossip problem, and she does try to resist when Jeff goads her on about the group of Black women she points out who used to be her study group before they kicked her out. There's a wealth of unexplored plots about the various "other" study groups at Greendale of which we only ever see the merest glimpses. Maybe the movie will give us a taste. . .

And speaking of stories we aren't told, I want to know what Shirley thinks Jeff did wrong in his life to end up taking remedial classes at Greendale after something went wrong with his Doctor career. Yeah it's just to tell us she, and maybe the study group in general, aren't really invested in each other (yet), and Jeff isn't really much of an outlier in knowing nothing about the others, but dang it's just such a funny image.

Now that we're already buried in such levels of detail, I like the little touch where we see Jeff was holding his schoolbooks in his lap the whole time he was sitting at the table. On a first glance it may look like he's trying to hold down a boner after Shirley tells him "the ultimate gossip" - that Britta had a sex dream about him - but thinking about it, what we're really seeing is how desperately guarded Jeff is in all matters even approaching his personal life. He just didn't want to put the books on the table where people might see them!

Meanwhile, Annie apologizes to Abed with what must surely be a symbolic gesture of an Indiana Jones movie collection. (Is there any world where he would not already own those?) But he immediately forgives her because it's obvious she knows what she did was not okay and when you're Abed you process feelings quickly and think more about what you're going to be feeling towards a person after you're done being conflicted and operate from that conclusion. Okay I may be projecting here.

Jeff is also sorry for overstepping and for making Britta mad at him, if not for making Vaughn break up with her. (He's really not, but he tries to be.) Our two fated attractive white heterosexual lovers have a kind of grown up conversation where they attempt to speak clearly about what kind of relationship they want to have with each other, for about six seconds before Britta finds out Shirley told Jeff about her dream. Ah well, I guess that's an average amount of honesty for human interactions.

People (including Shirley) repeatedly refer to Shirley as a "pot stirrer" in this episode and I can't help but think the term I would later internalize is "shit disturber." I mean if you think about Malvo in the Fargo TV show, would you describe him as a "pot stirrer" or a "shit disturber"?

At a gathering of hippies (beneath the stoner tree?) Jeff misses gossiping with Shirley, but as he encounters her walking with Britta they giggle and run away. These two ought to have an amazing relationship, but we don't see any of it that I can remember. Pierce, of all people, delivers our moral about how you shouldn't talk about or try to overhear people who are not directly in front of you.

This was the one thing that bothered me in the movie adaptation of Fight Club, by the way. In the movie, Tyler just arbitrarily makes it a rule that "Jack" is not allowed to talk about him with Marla. It's so important to him, the [spoilers] happens the moment "Jack" breaks that rule. In the book, contrarily, Tyler makes the argument that he doesn't want "Jack" to talk about him behind his back. I found this reasonable. I've tried to follow this rule with people in my life ever since I read it. It wouldn't have hurt the movie to take three seconds to include that, would it?

But if you're going to live in the world with all the people in it, you have to make peace with the fact you're not entitled to know what everyone thinks. You're not supposed to listen to their private conversations. We get close here to making a thesis about the human right to privacy, but that may be beyond the scope of both this show and myself. Just trust that this right, like all the human rights, are written for a reason.

The stinger is on theme, with Troy and Abed making fun of everyone they see in the hallway outside the study room until they're told everyone can hear everything they're saying and they can only escape by pretending to fall asleep. It hurts our dignity when we ignore the boundaries of privacy, I suppose.

#Fight Club no spoilers #Community rewatch #human rights are for humans

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bbyheedeungie · 3 years

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Fluttering Machinery | Robot! Sunghoon AU

Genre: Fluff, mild angst

Pairings: Robot! Sunghoon x Reader

Warnings: Character death, little suggestive content

Synopsis: Sunghoon was a humanoid built by your father, with the sole purpose of taking care of you once he passes away. But it seems like taking care of you came with discovering emotions that wasn't necessary for cooking, cleaning, and keeping you safe. What is this warm fuzzy feeling that resonates deep inside Sunghoon's mechanism?

It's been months. 6 dreadful months since your father has passed away. The doctors have warned you that he didn't have much time left, but that didn't make the goodbyes hurt any less.

You were 4 years old when your mom left you and your father for another guy. A more successful guy. Your father was bright, with an insatiable hunger for discovery and invention. But his field of work didn't always bring food to the table. And so on most days you had to, well, compromise.

But you loved your father so much, and still do. Although you didn't grow up to be a scientist like him, you knew the basics on automation and robotics. You were 11 years old when you first saw it, the humanoid that he worked on for years came to life before your own very eyes.

He had no skin nor face that made him look human yet. Just a chunk of metal with a head, arms and legs that moved mechanically. Nevertheless, you will never forget the joy and pride in your fathers' face as he watched his creation. The humanoid was a work in progress and you knew one day he's going to change the world. Unbeknownst to you, he was going to change your world.

And now here you are, years into the present as you stood infront of the humanoid who had his eyes shut. Yep, he's a he now. He is Humanoid SH-1282. Your father made him for the purpose of serving the community, to help people. But when he discovered his illness, he started making alterations to his design. He made SH-1282 to serve as the perfect companion, but only to you.

He filled the humanoid's hard drive with everything that he'll need to help you and take care of you. He input cooking, cleaning, and even martial arts. You sighed, remembering your father's last words.

"I'm gonna leave him in your care now, err leave you in his care or whatever. Take good care of each other okay? I love you both so much."

You were such a crybaby, holding on to your father's arm as the nurses were ushering you to wait outside because the doctors are about to perform surgery.

"You'll be okay." Your father mouthed as he smiled knowingly in content.

You reach for the humanoid's neck to find the power button, finally deciding to activate him after holding it off for months.

You held your breath as his eyes open, immediately scanning his surroundings. His eyes land on you, a smile forms on his lips.

"Hi, I'm SH-1282. It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." He said naturally, offering his hand. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was a normal boy.

You let out a shaky breath as you accept his hand. He frowns, it seems like he is studying your facial expression and posture.

"You seem like you are in distress. Are you alright?" He asks in concern.

"Yeah, I am." You reply weakly.

"Will a hug improve your mood?" He asks. He was programmed to know about the benefits of physical intimacy, but he was also programmed to know consent and so he will not do anything unless you want to.

You contemplated, biting your lip.

"No, thank you." He simply nods, stepping out of his charging port.

"Will you show me around the house?" He asks and you nod.

"Damn this feels so awkward." You think to yourself.

"So here's the living room." You say as SH-1282 takes a good look around the area, his eyes falling to the dirty coffee table with tons of papers stacked messily. The couch looked greasy, with breadcrumbs stuck to the sides of the couch cushions. He scrunches his nose, involuntarily adding a new emotion to his database: disgust.

And as you led him to the kitchen, this emotion intensifies as he sees the containers of Chinese takeouts and cup ramen littered around the counter. He walks to the fridge and finds it empty except for a carton of milk that you put into your cereal for breakfast.

This awakens another emotion for the humanoid, frustration. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he contemplates on what to do with the mess, aka you.

"This won't do. You have been living unhealthily which may reduce your chances of living a long life."

You scoff, "Excuse me?" He gives you a dead stare, an eyebrow raised.

"No, excuse me while I clean up all this. I'll leave you to your own devices, thank you for showing me around today." He says sassily as he goes to find where you hide your cleaning utensils. You stood there dumbfounded.

"Unbelievable." But you let him be anyway. He wasn't wrong, you've been a total mess this past few months but that was all because of the grief. You basically had no family now.

And so for the rest of the day, you lock yourself in your room and do homework. About 5pm, you hear a soft knock at your door.

"Hello, it's me. Can you spare me a minute? I have something to ask of you." You inwardly groan, not really wanting to face the humanoid.

"Can you accompany me to get groceries? I swear this will only happen one time. It is only because I am not yet accustomed to my location. But after I mentally note the directions, you won't have to come with me next time." He didn't really want to bother you, but he knew that going out by himself and getting lost will be much more bothersome for you.

"Sure thing, just let me change into— oh no, you have no other clothes. It's kinda chilly outside today." You mentally facepalm yourself. Why didn't I go shopping for men clothes first before activating him?

"That is fine, I am immune to any temperature." He says as-a-matter-of-fact. You roll your eyes.

"I know that but people will probably get suspicious to see a man walking around in a shirt and jeans when everybody else has coats on. We need you to fit in as much as possible."

You search for your father's old coat that you refused to throw away even months after he's passed.

"Sorry dad, but he kinda needs this right now." And so you dress the humanoid in your oversized university sweatshirt (which surprisingly fits him perfectly) and your father's old coat.

"How do I look? Will I fit in now?" He asks as he scans his appearance in the mirror.

"You look—" absolutely breathtaking. You had every urge to slap yourself. Your father really didn't play around when he made the humanoid's face. He could pass up as an idol. And the cute little mole on his nose was a good addition to his features that made him even more realistic.

"Great. People won't suspect a thing."

The two of you head out. Contrary to your expectations that he would marvel at everything he sees outside, he just casually looks around. You ride the bus together, and the humanoid processes everything that you do, noting how everything works.

What caught you by surprise though, is how he immediately stands up in instinct to let an old lady sit down in his place. He sure was programmed with manners and chivalry. You smiled at the thought.

You made your way inside the grocery store, only intended to grab a basket but the humanoid insisted on a push cart.

"We have so much to buy, I've taken a mental note of everything we'll need." You simply roll your eyes and let him push the cart around as you wandered behind him. You look around as he reads the nutritional facts of every single thing he sees.

"This is definitely going to take a while." You muttered.

"Y/N? Is that you?" A voice squealed. You hissed and attempted to turn away, pretending you didn't see her. The humanoid saw how you reacted and swiftly rushed to your side in a protective stance. The stranger eyes the humanoid, her eyes sparkling at the sight of such a gorgeous man.

"Why hello there. Y/N you didn't tell me you've been busy with your boyfriend, we haven't hung out in a while." Both of your eyes widened at the misunderstanding.

"Oh, no he's not— we aren't—" You tried to explain but she just laughed out loud.

"Look how flustered you are. You know what, it's okay. But we have a lot of catching up to do!" She said, squishing your cheeks in a playful manner.

"So what's your name, handsome stranger?" She asks, turning to the confused humanoid.

"I'm S—"

"Sunghoon! His name is Sunghoon." You blurted out. Sunghoon was the name of your childhood crush when you were like 7 but that'll have to do. Unfortunately, it seems that the humanoid got even more confused.

"I am Y/N's—"

"Neighbor. He lives next door to my apartment. I was just showing him around because he just recently moved into the city." You say quickly. She can't know that you're living with a guy. Even if said guy wasn't human.

"Awww how sweet of you to go shopping with your neighbor." She said, winking at you. She's definitely not convinced.

"I'm Yeonmi, Y/N's friend." She introduced, offering her hand to Sunghoon. He took her hand reluctantly.

"You mean my super obnoxious friend." You roll your eyes.

"Shut up, you love me." She teased. Admittedly, you've been avoiding her for months now. Ever since your father passed, it was as if you didn't want to deal with anyone anymore, with the fear of being left behind again. So you shut everyone out. You know it was a very selfish move and must've made everyone worry, but you have yet to figure out how to fix things back to how it is.

You said your goodbyes not without a long, tight hug from Yeonmi and Sunghoon noticed from his scanners how your vitals greatly improved from it. This made him feel another new emotion: relief. He was very thankful for your friend who made you feel better.

You continue venturing down the aisle of food, and you find the humanoid smiling to himself. He notices your attention on him and he shakes his head, as if shrugging his thoughts off.

"What?" You asked.

"You gave me a name. Although I'm unsure if it is necessary, thank you." He says genuinely as he smiles at you, your heart skipping a beat.

"You're welcome, Sunghoon." You smiled back.

He picked up lots of fruits and vegetables, with you whining the whole time. Your whines unlocked another emotion of his; annoyance.

"No wonder her father thought she is in need of taking care of, she acts like a child." He concludes, running his fingers through his hair as he lets you get an ice cream of your choice. Oddly, seeing a bright smile on your face as you show him what flavor you got seems to put him at ease.

The two of you got home at dawn, with quickly stacking up the groceries into the cabinets and fridge, with you slumping down on the now squeaky clean couch.

It had been quite a long day and you found yourself dozing off. You woke up from the light tap on your shoulder, eyes fixating on Sunghoon with your apron wrapped around his torso.

"I could get used to this." You thought, admiring how adorable the humanoid looked but quickly pushing the thoughts away.

"Sorry to wake you, it's time for dinner." He announces and you lazily nodded, not before yawning and stretching your arms.

"Uhh, what is this?" You asked, eyeing your plate.

"It's your dinner." He says nonchalantly, expecting you to start eating. Your face shows utter disgust at the plate of vegetables.

"Please don't make me eat that." You begged. Sunghoon rolls his eyes; a trait he adapted from spending just a day with you.

"Don't be dramatic, vegetables are good for you." He states, taking the plate from you and attempting to feed you.

"Come on, say ah." He says playfully. After realizing how much you acted like a child, he researched on how to take care of children and downloaded it into his database. You scrunch your nose, leaning away from the food and shooting him a glare.

"Sunghoon, I'm not a kid." You deadpanned.

"Oh, but you won't get your ice cream if you don't eat this." He says, pouting at you teasingly. He's really good at this. With a sigh, you open wide and allow him to feed you.

"Yep, definitely a kid." He thinks to himself as he smiles in satisfaction, another emotion unlocked.

That night, you decided to move his charging port (with his help) from the lab into the spare room of the apartment.

"You know, I'm completely okay with staying at the lab." He reasoned but you quickly hush him.

"Nope. That is no way to treat a person. You deserve your own room, okay? A room that you can fill with your own stuff and decorate with your own preferences. End of discussion." You sassed as you fix his charging port into place. Sunghoon blinked at you, unable to express how grateful he is of how kind you are to him.

"She wants to treat me like a real human being." He thinks, his mechanical heart overwhelmed with gratitude.

Days went on with a routine, with him cleaning all day and you attending online classes. There were occasional bumps in the road, with you getting annoyed with how much of a neat freak he is and him getting irritated with how lazy you are at taking care of yourself. You've also taught him how to watch tv, deciding not to let him use the internet yet because he might gain too much unnecessary information online.

And so on a saturday night, you sat together on the couch as you watched figure skating competitions. Sunghoon was at complete awe the whole time, studying how the skaters moved through the ice.

"I want to skate too." He states absentmindedly, attention still on the television. You smiled, thinking how it was the first time he actually said he wanted something.

"Then let's do it, let's go skating tomorrow." You say, his head immediately shot to you.

"What, really?" Sunghoon asks in disbelief, his eyes widening.

"Yes, really. Although I'm warning you, I don't know how to skate." You laughed, with him chuckling as well.

"Then we'll learn together." He promises.

What a total lie that is. He didn't need to learn, as you watched him move swiftly against the ice, the wind in his hair as he circled around, his focused eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. He looked ethereal. You could have sworn there were tears there as you cheered him on like a proud momma. Ah, they grew up so fast.

People at the park also stopped to watch Sunghoon, whispering about how talented the young man is. His eyes caught yours, and you weren't sure if you were seeing things but you thought you saw him send you a wink and smile.

"The TV been teaching him things." You muttered, blushing but not from the cold. Sunghoon skates towards you, pulling you with him. You're eyes widened in fear.

"N-no Sunghoon I can't—" but he was already leading you through the ice, eyes never leaving yours.

"You can." He whispers, taking you by the waist as he spun you around. You giddily laughed as you threw your arms out, savouring the chilly air. You didn't even notice the people watching and cooing at you as some joined in as well.

That night, Sunghoon felt something he never felt before, and you in a long time. You felt happy.

"Say aaaah~" Sunghoon said as he fed you chicken soup. You caught a cold from skating yesterday and now you're wrapped in a super cozy blanket with Sunghoon worrying about you.

"You know I can feed myself right?" You said, swallowing the food.

"I know, but I just feel responsible because I was the one who wanted to skate. You got sick because of me, and that kinda defeats my purpose because I'm supposed to be keeping you healthy." He rambled. You roll your eyes at him.

"Colds are normal, okay? Besides, I haven't had that much fun in a while. Thank you for that, Sunghoon." You say, reaching up to tussle his hair playfully. He froze, cogs in his mind unable to process as something inside him stirred, but in a pleasant way.

"So you dance while rubbing your body on a stranger?" Sunghoon questions, but he's not sure if he wants to know the answer. Tonight, you wore a simple black dress that teasingly showed a little bit of cleavage and a decent length of fabric that hugged tightly around your upper thighs but had a daringly high slit. Sunghoon approves and disapproves at the same time.

"Yeah, it's kinda like that. But don't worry, I won't be doing that. I'll just stay by the bar the whole time." You reassured as you struggled to put on your strappy heels. Sunghoon kneels down infront of you and helps you clasp the straps around your ankles, handling it very delicately. Your heart thumps as he looks up at you.

"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" He asks for the fifth time as he follows you around the house like a puppy. You sigh, actually considering it. Although it was supposed to be a girl's night according to Yeonmi, you thought maybe having Sunghoon tag along wouldn't do harm.

But it did. It did harm to you, alright. And you wanted to harm those girls who kept on grinding their asses onto Sunghoon as slow, sexy music played. You were fuming, regretting dressing Sunghoon in such fashion that screamed big D energy. Why am I being so possessive? But then again, Sunghoon does look uncomfortable. I should go save him. Yeah, I'll do that.

"Hold my drink." You tell Yeonmi as you made your way to Sunghoon.

"You go girl! Get your man!" Yeonmi cheered drunkly.

Your train of thoughts were blurred by the alcohol as you struggled to walk straight. You had only one clear thought in mind: Sunghoon. I need to get to Sunghoon.

Sunghoon stood uncomfortably, eyeing the girls who rubbed their bossoms and derriere all over him. Is this supposed to be fun? He thinks innocently. He sees you walking towards him, swaying your hips side by side as you strode towards him like a predator.

Girls hovering around him going unnoticed as you were the only one he could see.

Stunning, beautiful. He thought.

"Hey handsome, care to dance?" You asked, pulling him to you before he could even answer. The girls spat at you, telling you to 'get in line' but you just shot them a smug look.

"Sorry ladies." Sunghoon apologized, but his smile told otherwise as he let you pull him away from them.

"You don't know how badly I wanted to get away from—" He froze in his spot as you wrap your arms around his neck, inching closer than ever before. You felt bold, but maybe that was just the alcohol in your system. And as you started moving your body against Sunghoon, you knew it wasn't just you who felt the heat. His large palms go down south, resting on your swaying hips as both of you moved to the sultry rhythm.

His mechanism was going nuts, threatening to malfunction as his sensors detected your very close proximity to him. Whatever you were playing, it was dangerous. But Sunghoon couldn't help but to want more, to desire more.

"Y/N." He whispers, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. And damn did he find you so sexy right there, under the strobe lights. No girl in the club could ever compare.

"Home?" You suggested.

"Home." He agrees.

As you got in the cab, you immediately find yourself half straddling Sunghoon's lap as you attempt to kiss him. Luckily, Sunghoon can think clearer now and concludes that a drunk Y/N is a very horny Y/N. And though the thought that it was only the alcohol that made you want him made him feel sad, he knew it was wrong to demand such things from you.

And so with your futile attempts to get into his pants, he gently lays your head on his shoulder and hugs you to keep you still. But even that couldn't stop you from squirming to get away from his hold, trying to get some action. He chuckles as he held your hand tightly in his to prevent it from landing into his crotch.

"Now now, you have to stay put. I won't be taking advantage of your state." He scolds gently. And by the time the cab had stopped in front of the building of your apartment, you were fast asleep in Sunghoon's arms.

Times like these were when Sunghoon is glad he was made of aluminum. He scooped you up in his arms like a pillow as he walked up to your apartment. You snuggled up into his chest, looking so innocent as you soaked up his warmth. Sunghoon cooed about how adorable you are, talking to you in your sleep.

He placed you delicately on your bed, contemplating whether to change your clothes or not. He decided not to, noting how your privacy is important to you. You're too drunk and asleep to give him permission right now anyway. He took off your heels and wiped your makeup off very gently, and tucked you in properly.

Long minutes pass as he studies your face, stroking your hair softly as the corners of his mouth lift up unconsciously. He really loves taking care of you. He loves you.

This realization hits him like a truck of overwhelming emotions, but it all makes sense to him now.

"I love you, Y/N." He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before retiring to his own room.

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utterlyinevitable · 3 years

Note

Hi! I really like your fics! Especially 'The Conference'. I have a fic request: Ethan x MC revealed to only the gang - not the whole hospital. It's totally fine if you don't do it! Thanks for considering my request! 💞

Sorry for taking a million years to get to this. Also sorry that it’s trash ♥

Telling Friends

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: T+ Summary: It’s sometime after the toxin incident and Becca tells her roommates about her budding relationship. Though one of them has some issues with it... Trope: Fluff, People Find Out About Them; Platonic Gang

________________________________________

Becca walked carefully into her apartment, immediately greeted by the sweet aroma of chocolate chip muffins and the sight of two of her roommates on their hideous, thrifted yellow couch that makes this place a home.

“Oh, good. You’re all here,” She sighed with a contented smile as she kicked off her shoes.

“Think we should be more shocked you’re here,” Jackie retorted, barely looking up from her phone.

Normally Becca would roll her eyes or respond with something snarky, but not today. Today the roommates had something to talk about; all of which revolved around why she’s barely been home lately.

“Where’ve you been?” Elijah added, the whites of his teeth sparkling in the midday sunshine peering through the window.

“And in yesterday’s clothes,” Jackie followed up.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

Becca dropped her bag and coat by the door before bounding across the room to take her place on the sofa between her two friends.

“There’s something you guys should know. And I need you to keep it secret.” She glared pointedly at Jackie.

“Did you pull a heist without us?”

Elijah added, “Yeah because if so, no, I will never forgive you.”

“No. I would never. It’s just…” Becca trailed, moving to settle further into the cushions. She took a deep readying breath. Exhaled. And continued; “Really sensitive and important, and I don’t want to do anything to screw it up. But I also don’t want to keep sneaking around…”

“Are you back with Raf?” Jackie questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Since he kind of imploded his life for you?”

After the incident, Rafael Aviero broke things off with his childhood sweetheart because of the lingering feelings he still harbored for her. Now he wasn’t moving away, he didn’t have Sora, and he didn’t have...

“Um… no,” Becca responded, looking down at the cushion.

Before her guilt could set in fully, the room erupted in a high-pitched, delighted squeal.

“Oh my god!” Sienna rounded the kitchen island quickly, her battered hands clasping around the wooden spoon, “Really!?”

“What?” Jackie asked at the same time Elijah questioned, “What’re we missing?”

The two girls locked eyes and Becca made the slightest of confirming motions.

Becca took a deep inhale, eyes never leaving Sienna’s. The absolute delight in her best friend’s dark eyes were giving her all the courage she needed. “I’ve been spending a lot of time at Ethan’s. We’ve been dating for a while.”

“Since when?”

“The memorial, basically.”

“Shit,” Jackie lamented. “I’m happy for you, Bec. But damn” - a coy smirk appeared on her lips - “No wonder that guy’s been friendlier than usual.”

“Finally!” Elijah exclaimed in a rush of air, like it was a breath he’s been holding in for far too long. All three pairs of eyes were on him. “Sienna and I caught Dr. Ramsey leaving the morning after her hearing.”

Jackie’s jaw dropped past the floor and into the basement.

The rest of the gang brought her up to speed on how that ended up happening and how no one knew Ramsey slept over, and of course the unfortunate ending to that tale.

“How’s that going to work?”

“Strictly professional at the hospital.” Becca affirmed the sentiment with a flippant wave of her hands and the smallest of smiles. “Nothing’s going to change.”

“Except for how soft he is around you.”

“He’s not soft on me. If anything he’s harsher with me because of our relationship.”

The roommates talked more about the logistics of her relationship and how often Ethan will be staying over. Jackie set some ground rules for that, to which Becca rolled her eyes and agreed they would never ever have sex anywhere other than her bedroom when in the apartment.

When the conversation waned Becca asked;

“I was thinking about inviting him to Thanksgiving. Unless that’d be weird?”

Elijah chuckled, “It’ll definitely be weird.”

Sienna waved him off and grabbed her friend’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’d be happy to have him, Becca.”

The two girls shared a moment. It wasn’t a question that Sienna was overjoyed at Becca’s happiness - this was everything they’ve been dreaming about happening since early intern year. Though there was something quite bittersweet - Becca got a second chance with Ethan, while Sienna will never know what could have been. In their tightened grip neither could forget Danny.

Becca’s lips parted, about to whisper condolences and affirmations that things are going to get better. But Elijah spoke first;

“Getting to know Dr. Ramsey will be a real treat. Think he’d be down to watch the MCU in succession?”

As she turned towards him a broad smile took over Becca’s features. “As long as there’s scotch I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been sneaking around with him.” Jackie lamented once more.

“What’s Dr. Ramsey even like outside the hospital? He doesn’t seem like fun.”

“Ethan’s a lot -”

Aurora emerged, cutting Becca off with a disbelieving, “You’re dating Dr. Ramsey?”

Something in her new friend’s tone threw Becca off kilter. So much so she threw up walls as quick and high as could be, ready to defend defend defend. She was afraid of her friends not taking to the news and Aurora’s tone really confirmed Becca’s worst fears.

“Uh, yeah,” was all she could respond.

“Gross. I’m happy for you but... gross. Are we forgetting he dated my aunt for years?”

“Oh shit. Yeah,” Elijah muttered from the sidelines.

Quickly Becca added, “They were never serious.”

She was going to say ‘in love’ but thought better of it. She loves him dearly and knows he feels the same way, but they haven’t said it yet. The first time she uses that word next to his name it should be to him and him alone.

The retort was swift and icy, “Are you?”

Aurora didn’t anticipate the answer, she knew her friend and thought this was just another one of her impulses. Becca had a tendency to bounce from interest to interest, heart to heart; and after everything that’s happened recently maybe she’s just finding comfort in the man who kept her alive.

Both sets of deep coffee-colored eyes met, both Aurora and Becca’s features schooled so stoic and unwavering in their position. A simple “Yes” dancing off Becca’s tongue. The word accompanied by the splendid thought that Ethan Ramsey was hers.

Aurora Emery didn’t miss the tug of a smile tugging at the corners of Becca’s mouth.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll support you, but this is weird as fuck.”

***

Later that evening Aurora was in her room, sitting on her bed with a textbook in her lap. A knock sounded from her ajar door, and not a few seconds later Becca’s head peeked through the crack.

“Hey, can we talk?”

Aurora shut the book. “I think we need to.”

She shifted on the bed to make room at the foot among all her papers.

Once settled, sitting cross-legged, Becca broke the small flits of tension. “I’m sorry this is weird for you.”

“Thanks.” Aurora forced a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sorry about the outburst. I don’t know enough about your relationship to comment.”

“I don’t know enough about their relationship,” Becca admitted shyly. She fiddled with her hands in her lap. “Ethan doesn’t really talk about it. Just that he appreciates and respects the fuck out of Dr. Emery.”

“Aunt Harper didn’t talk about it either. All I know is what I’ve overheard and saw. They go way back - I remember them together before I got into med school.”

They let that sink in for a moment. Becca chewed on her lip as she mindfully ran through the semi-apparent timeline. “So this is weird,” she stated.

“Really weird,” Aurora agreed with a chortle.

Some more time passed by on a pause. The two amicably working through this oddity in their lives. Both their thoughts taking them in many directions. Though Becca’s moving further and further into territory she knew Ethan never wanted to wander back through.

“Was he around a lot?” she finally asked in the smallest of voices.

If Aurora picked up on her friend’s insecurity she didn’t make it apparent.

“Sometimes,” she began. “He’d spend some holidays and milestones with the family. I don’t think he ever enjoyed it. A bunch of doctors eating and drinking all the time, everyone knows how much he hates spending time with colleagues.” Aurora tried to brush the last remark off as a joke to lighten the mood.

She could see the ghost of a smile hanging on Becca’s lips.

“He went for her.” It wasn’t a question

Aurora simply nodded.

“He’s a good guy,” Becca sighed. She looked up at Aurora with the most lovestruck look the young Emery has ever encountered. Right then and there she knew that this certainly was not one of her friend’s whims. It was, and had, the power of a whole new universe.

“What the two of you see in him I’ll never know,” Aurora scoffed in feigned mockery.

Becca was just about to comment - to say just how much of a different man Ethan was to Dr. Ramsey - when Aurora added;

“But you shouldn’t worry about me, you should probably talk to Bryce.”

Becca’s eyes went wide and her jaw stiffened.

If anyone was going to address the other blatantly obvious elephant in the friend group, Aurora realized, it had to be her. Might as well kill two birds with one stone whilst they buried the hatchet.

“We all know you’ve been hooking up for a while.”

If words could kill Aurora was certain she just decapitated Becca. The poor girl went stark and ghostly. It was as if she hadn’t even considered telling her booty call she’s seeing someone else.

Aurora trailed, “I don’t know exactly what went down but...”

Neither wanted her to break Bryce Lahela’s heart.

___________________

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

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lafourmii20 · 3 years

Note

That prompt list is so hard to choose from! Lots of good stuff on there!

Couldn’t go past #54 though for ironfroststrange! (Please and thank you 😊)

Thank you for the ask @knightryder24 🥰 I had a lot of fun writing for this prompt. It's probably not what you had in mind, but I hope you like it!

Sorry it took me so much time to answer. I hope that the fact it is 2k long (which is way more than my other answers to the intimacy prompts) will make up for it.

~~~

frostironstrange, tony stark, stephen strange, loki, morgan stark, fluff and awkwardness, chaste kissing, getting together

~~~

Date night was awkward. Well, what was he expecting, really? He invited Loki and Stephen to have dinner with him. The God of Mischief and the Sorcerer Supreme, together, in the same room with mere mortal Tony? Yeah, it was a sure recipe for trouble.

“More dessert?” he asked with not a small amount of unease.

“Oh, I would love to take your dessert, darling,” Loki purred suggestively, with glinting eyes and smirking lips, and there was no way he was talking about the chocolate cake offered to him.

Tony gulped.

“Thank you, Tony,” Stephen replied softly, taking a piece for himself and another for Loki, thankfully cutting through Loki’s aggressive flirting.

Tony lost himself for a second in Stephen’s mesmerizing blue-green eyes, took a little strength from the wizard’s calm demeanor, then shook his head. No, this was still a terrible idea. What was he thinking inviting them in his house?

Well, truth be told, it wasn’t his idea. Stephen suggested it, and Loki approved. So really, if anyone was to blame for the poor night they were all having, it wasn’t Tony.

But maybe it wasn’t such a bad evening. Sure, there were awkward silences, uneasy glances and shy blushes. But there were also good wine and great Asgardian ale. They talked about magic and science and technology, Asgardian customs that should be abandoned forever, and others that would do great to Earth societies. They discussed life, love, family and relationships.

They talked about their relationship.

Their weird relationship wasn’t exactly a new thing. They’d been dancing around each other for months now. Since Thanos, they had been getting closer and closer together. Tony just had to meet the Sorcerer who orchestrated everything and helped them to win. After screaming at him with all the strength of his lungs for not telling him what the plan was, Tony understood and tried to get to know the man better. They got along far better than he ever dared to imagine.

Tony met Loki in totally different circumstances. With a whole ass alien nation now settling on Earth, Tony got involved in the smooth integration of New Asgard. That was where he got to know Loki, and the mischievous God carved a place into his heart scarily quickly, if he were honest.

What he discovered with these two men was beautiful, just as broken as Tony was, but glorious (as Loki would love to say). It was a deep friendship that slowly evolved into something else, into something more.

Tony would never forget the day he held Stephen’s hand for the first time, carefully cradling his trembling fingers between his own. The trust in Stephen’s eyes took his breath away.

The strong hug he shared with Loki one afternoon, was also etched into his memory, a fond time and a show of vulnerability like no other. It was truly glorious.

Tony also knew Loki and Stephen exchanged a chaste kiss at the Sanctum, even though he didn’t know the details. He just found it infinitely endearing. But it brought some difficult questions to his mind.

“Why would I have to choose only one of you, when I adore you both?” Loki had asked incredulously one day, when Tony broached the subject of their weird three-way relationship. Then, the Asgardian seemed to remember. “Oh, I see. Your Midgardian’s customs limit your view on the matter. In Asgard, a relationship is only what the people involved want it to be. Be it between a man and a woman, or two men, or two women, or more than two people and all the combination you could ever imagine.”

“So what do you want?” Tony had asked.

Loki only answered with a broad devilish smile.

Stephen suggested the dinner date the next day, and Loki approved immediately. And there they were. In this awkward situation, navigating the troubled water of a brand new relationship. Tony was about to embark on a relationship with not only one, but two magical men, and his head was spinning. In anticipation. In fear. Elation. Love too.

Double the love, who would have thought, uh?

“How about we move this to a more comfortable location?” Loki asked, bringing Tony back to the present. “The couch, maybe?” He arched his eyebrows suggestively again, and Tony lost his words (again) turning bright red. The God of Mischief was really good at making Tony blush these days. Damn. Tony was losing all his smooth flirting when he was with them.

“Sure,” he said. Jeez, that was so lame. He definitely was losing his cool with them. “You go there,” he gestured toward the living room, “I’ll make coffee and tea for Stephen. Our good doctor can’t end an evening without his chamomile tea, the fiend. I’ll take care of it.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, but simply smiled at Tony’s antics, and he left the table with Loki, guiding him through the house with a gentle hand on the small of his back.

The gesture was overwhelmingly delicate and tender, and fondness surged through Tony’s heart.

Too much, it was too much.

Finally alone after all the awkwardness and tension, Tony breathed out, paused for one second, before getting in motion again. He couldn’t stay still and let his brain do his overthinking thing. Except, he couldn’t stop thinking as he made the drinks on autopilot, too focused on his own thoughts (and the two Sorcerers casually sitting on his couch) to care about what his hands were doing.

What the hell was he doing? After all the hardship in his life, he couldn’t settle for a simple retirement plan in his cabin by the lake, with Morgan, and Pepper? Well, Pepper wasn’t exactly here anymore. They couldn’t make it work together and that was sad, but it was life, right? Life sucked. But they had found a balance, between her new job in New York and his simple life by the lake, and their amazing daughter to raise. It wasn’t ideal, but it seemed to work for them.

And now, Tony wanted to complicate all this delicate balance with this new and weird relationship?

What was he thinking?

“Hey.” Stephen’s gentle voice interrupted Tony’s spiraling thoughts, and a shaking hand landed on his shoulder.

Tony turned to face the other man. The hand, still on his shoulder, calmed him a little, silenced his thoughts.

“Hi,” Tony whispered.

Stephen’s lips curled into a tender smile that warmed Tony’s heart. Red tinted his sharp cheekbones, from the wine and the Asgardian ale they shared earlier. His eyes glinted, maybe because he kissed Loki again on the couch while waiting for Tony. Oh, how he would love to join them and shut the voices in his head telling him this was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” Stephen asked in his deep voice. “Is it too much, for you? We can leave if you want to. We would understand.”

“No!” Tony immediately blurted out. His hand came up to hold on to Stephen’s wrist. He was careful not to grip the fine bones too tight, and to avoid the delicate scarred fingers, but he couldn’t let go, couldn’t let Stephen (and Loki) leave him. He wanted them here, with him. Forever.

“Stay, please,” he finally said. “It’s just… It’s a lot. But I want you here.”

Tony’s heart fluttered at Stephen’s answering smile, the softest and loveliest curl of his lips. And his eyes shone so bright with affection. Maybe love?

Tony gripped Stephen’s wrist in his hand, drew him closer while getting on his tiptoes. There, he left a gentle kiss on Stephen’s cheek. A surprised yet pleased sound escaped Stephen’s lips and Tony couldn’t wait to hear all the beautiful noises he could get from this man. Loki would probably be impossible to shake, but maybe he might help Tony to fluster Stephen? That would be lovely. Tony couldn’t wait to have both men with him, in his bed, and suddenly he wasn’t so afraid of this whole situation anymore.

“Let’s go find Loki, before he burns my house to the ground,” he said.

“Absolutely,” Stephen laughed before putting his arm around Tony’s waist, and making his way to the living room.

Which was empty when they arrived.

“Lokes?”

Tony’s heart dropped. Did Loki leave? Did he already get tired of them and just left?

But then, Tony heard a high-pitched giggle and a low voice from the bedrooms. He frowned, then hurried upstairs, Stephen on his heels. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Loki. But he wasn’t sure how the God of Mischief would handle his daughter, and Tony wasn’t ready to take any risks with his sweet little Morgan.

But when he peeked through her bedroom door, Tony’s heart melted. Morgan was in her bed, carefully tucked under the covers. Loki sat on the floor beside her bed, a book on his lap, his soft voice lulling her to sleep with a story. Except, every few sentences, he stopped, made a comment about the improbability of the tale, or how his own adventures were far more interesting, and Morgan giggled with him. It seemed like she was getting less and less sleepy, completely defeating the purpose of the bedtime story in the first place.

Tony melted.

“What are you doing up, little miss? It’s past your bedtime, you should be sleeping.”

“Loki is reading me a story.”

He could see that. The great God of Mischief felt utterly out of place on the floor of the little room painted in all sorts of bubblegum-pink shades Morgan loved so much.

“The little munchkin wanted a bedtime story. I thought it would amuse her greatly to hear the story of how I defeated the great enemies of Asgard, but she wanted me to read this book instead.” He showed them the title and Tony repressed a giggle of his own—it was just too hilarious to imagine Loki reading a children’s book.

“This little red riding hood story is particularly gruesome. I love it,” Loki commented with a wide and devilish smile.

“It’s great,” Morgan commented from the bed. “But he’s not doing the voices.”

Loki pouted and this time, Tony truly laughed.

“Come on, darling,” Stephen said joining Loki on the floor. “You have to do the voices. I’ll be the wolf, you’ll be the grandma.”

Loki looked disgusted.

“Tony can be the grandma.”

“Sure, I’ll be the grandma. I have a mug that says ‘Best Grandma in the world’ in the kitchen’s cabinet, anyway.”

“Come here, Grandma,” Stephen gestured to him laughing.

Tony joined them on the floor. They were truly ridiculous, three grown men sitting on a pink carpet, with a children’s book between them. But Morgan was smiling with all her missing tooth and Tony was feeling all fuzzy inside. Like he was at the right place.

Finally.

Maybe the three of them together wasn’t such a bad idea.

Reading a fairytale with three opinionated men was a disaster. They were all reading atop of each other, commenting on the other voices — ‘The grandma isn’t that weak, Tony.’ ‘Yes she is, that’s why she gets eaten.’ ‘Spoiler alert!’ ‘Oh come on doc, you don’t have to make your voice so deep.’ ‘Show off.’ ‘Lokes, you’re cheating.’ ‘I’m not.’ ‘Using magic is cheating.’ ‘It sets the atmosphere.’ ‘Show off.’ ’Shut up, wizard.’

And yet, Morgan was smiling, Tony too, and when his daughter eventually fell asleep—by some miracle even his genius brain couldn’t explain—he was smiling even wider.

Maybe—definitely—this relationship wasn’t such a bad idea. So instead of ushering Loki and Stephen and their awkwardness from the beginning out the door, Tony led them to his bedroom. And what they did behind the closed door was only the beginning of their relationship.

~~~

Inspired by this intimacy prompt list (my ask box is still open for prompts (or anything else), just know that it might take me some time to answer prompts because I have other projects I need to focus on right now)

Prompts filled: 3. touching foreheads (ironstrangefrost) 7. kissing scars (ironstrange) 23. wearing someone’s clothing (ironstrange) 29. kissing while mad (ironstrange) 30. being protective (drpepperony) 47. cuddling under blankets (ironstrangefrost) 54. reading a book together (ironstrangefrost) 59. height difference (ironstrange)

Currently working on:

#ironstrangefrost #loki #tony stark #stephen strange #intimacy prompts #fluff

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adorehs · 4 years

Text

12/12/12

Here’s my spooky-ish Harryween fic (a day late, which I apologize for!) This is one million percent not proofread and definitely very rushed and for that I am sorry.

Summary: Detective!Y/N has trouble cracking Suspect!Harry. But he seemed to have cracked her. (4k words)

Warnings: violence at the end (this includes blood), mentions of death and murder, angst if you could call it that. I am probably missing some but PLEASE do not read this if you are not comfortable with the themes that are portrayed above.

They tried to pin a murder on him, little old Harry who couldn’t swat a fly. Not in his right mind, anyway.

He was quite confused when they called him in with the intent of asking him questions regarding the night of December 12th. He doesn’t remember anything about that night at all, in fact. He was seemingly blackout drunk in the corner of his best friend’s apartment with a bottle of vodka in his hand and a hat fell on his face as his mouth fell open and soft snores fell out as everyone around him danced into the early morning.

December twelfth.

The day his mom died, the day he tries to forget every year, the day he takes off from work, the day he does everything but think.

He sat silently in the room- the walls a bleak grey and the lights dim. There were no windows except the small piece of glass that sat at the top of the textured door and in each corner of the room there sat a small security camera that followed Harry intently.

His fingers tapped in a calming rhythm of threes and his leg bounced lightly in anticipation for his interrogation. His eyes darted from his hands that were splayed out in front of him to the camera directly across from him as he leaned father back into his chair and stretched his legs out fully.

He let out a sigh as he sat in silence- he was bored and ready to go home. It was an utter waste of time in his mind- there was nothing he could give away. He wasn’t there, as much as he could match the description of a white male with brown hair with a few extra inches off the top of his head.

The door squealed as it opened, a woman scurrying in with a folder of files in her arms and a navy pantsuit hugging her figure as she sits down at the table across from him, “Hi, Harry, I’m Detective Y/N Y/L/N,” her hand reached out calmly to meet Harrys.

He watched her as they shook hands and he pulled his hand back and folded it into his harm, “Uh, just to be clear, there’s a microphone right there,” she gestured across from her where his hands once rested, “It’s quite small and you should refrain from putting your hands over it, unless you want to come back for a day of interrogation,” she chuckled softly.

Harry nodded silently as she continued to stumble through her opening lines, “There are cameras in each corner so this is being recorded. Do with that as you will,” she sighs before opening her file and sitting up straighter than before.

“Well, uh, Harry, I appreciate you coming in today. I know it’s a bit harder with cases like this… we try to refrain from declaring someone as, uh,” she paused to find her words.

“Mhm,” Harry hummed in understanding.

“As not being alive until we have evidence that they’re not, so we uh, we’re treating this case as an emergence.”

“Absolutely, yeah,” Harry commented with a small frown falling onto his face.

“Okay so, uh, we’ll be fast forwarding through some details that we would finalize later and we will have this be a bit more thorough of an interview so we don’t have to keep calling you back again,” she trailed off into silence. “Theresa read you your rights earlier and I just want to reiterate that you can walk to the lobby if you ever feel uncomfortable and I will treat you with respect and have the same expectation for you.”

“‘Course,” he nods in understanding.

“So uh, would you agree that there is a, a connection, uh geographically, with you and your mother Anne’s death and her, uh, supposed murderer Russell Williams?”

Harry’s face fell slightly, “Uh, sure, yeah, geographically,” he was in a state of shock. He didn’t expect his mother to be brought up.

“Alright so to be quite frank, uh, that’s a bit of why you were more of a suspect- matched the description from Miss Canaue, uh, Mr. Williams’s neighbor, and uh, your obvious connection with the man,” Y/N informed the man before him. Her eyes met his for the first time since she walked in and he appreciated the contact. He nodded as a response, urging Y/N to continue.

“So, uh, let’s backtrack. Why did you miss work on the tenth? Your log reported you called in as sick, is this true?”

“Yes, that is true. I had been getting over a stomach bug that weekend. Called in sick to finish my recovery,” Harry confirmed.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, “And had you contacted your doctor because you had felt, uh, sick that weekend?”

“Not necessarily,” Harry trailed off, “I called so I could have him prescribe me more promethazine… but besides that, I did not speak to him about my symptoms.”

“Alright,” Y/N glanced at the file that was open before her, “Were you bedridden for the majority of that day?”

“No, I went to the grocery store that night and I picked up my prescription from the pharmacy round the corner from my apartment,” Harry explained. He stretched his legs out further, a nervous tick he had developed when in school. Y/N’s demeanor intimidated him- he felt his body trying to move at every opportunity to create distance between himself and the woman before him.

“And do you remember the route you took to the grocery store?” Y/N asked with a slight quirk in her eyebrow.

Harry’s brows furrowed at the odd question, “Probably went down Main Street and went to the Publix off 86th.

“And you’re aware that Mr. Williams lives off of 86th?”

“Sure,” Harry nods.

“Alright, and I’m assuming you’re unaware that Miss Canaue saw a man with a similar appearance the night of the tenth?” Y/N’s eyes watched Harry’s carefully as he decided his next words carefully.

“No, I did not know that, but I go down that route every day. Don’t see how that makes me a suspect.”

“Yes, but you were sick,” Y/N pressed.

“Yeah, had a bug,” he repeated.

“Right, so you were sick and left your apartment once- possibly twice- that day and still managed to be around his home?”

Harry let out an obnoxious groan and ran a hand over his face, “It’s the fuckin grocery store off the largest street here. If that makes me a suspect better get everyone who has brunette curls,” he argued.

“Harry you’re not the only suspect. And you’re not on trial.”

He let out a scoff at Y/N’s ironic comment, “Yeah but if you don’t believe me, I will be,” he said, “Falsely,” he muttered.

It was a wonder that he hadn’t taken up the offer to leave whenever he felt uncomfortable considering Harry was repeating a string of curses towards the poor girl in his mind like a mantra.

He had been sitting in the uncomfortable fold out chair for two hours and Y/N’s posture has deteriorated significantly in their time- though she was just as scary as the first moment she strode into the room.

Harry was deciding if it was the confidence that surged from her body or if it was the navy pantsuit she wore that made her seem like a lawyer going into the courtroom with a billionaire- she just had a way about her that screamed power and Harry loved it- he was intrigued and distracted by her, though he also wanted to shove her out of the room.

“Mr. Styles?” she asked with a sharp tone, “On the twelfth you were out partying?” she asked, confused.

Harry nodded, “Correct.”

“Then why did you take off work?”

“It was the day my mum- Anne died. Take it off every year and go to my best mates house. He throws a party and I get drunk.”

“Mr. Horan, yes? He’s a suspect as well,” Y/N mumbled.

“What did he get too close to 86th? Is it because he’s embracing the natural brown of his hair? Told him he should’ve stayed blonde,” Harry snapped back. He was impossibly tired and more than ready to be headed home- he didn’t do anything- that he was certain of.

Y/N’s eyes trace her file and slowly find Harry’s, “If you don’t want to continue you are more than welcome to come back another day but I do not appreciate the tone you are using. You are not on trial and Mr. Horan is not on trial. We are just trying to find information.”

Harry’s eyes diverted quickly. He felt like he was being scolded by his mum after getting a bad grade on a math test; ‘It’s not my fault my teacher sucks!’ he would defend.

“It just seems like I’ve been here for ages and we aren’t getting anywhere- am I really just a suspect or are you lot convinced I’m the murderer of another murderer?”

“It seems you have strong feelings towards Mr. Williams and it seems as though we are not reaching when we assume you had something to do with it- whether that be hiring someone or doing it yourself we don’t know,” Y/N sighs out.

She uncrosses her legs and folds her arms above the table. Leaning into her own body, she comments with just low enough of a volume to be deemed seductive, “Am I incorrect with my assumption, Mr. Styles?”

Harry mirrored her body language, “Extremely. I had nothing to do with this. Wasn’t even conscious.”

“Am I incorrect in my reasoning?”

Harry takes a long pause knowing he has to choose his words carefully, “No but that reasoning can be applied to far too many people for you to make a definitive conclusion.”

Y/N tuts softly while reading over her evidence, “Alright fair enough.” She maintains eye contact with Harry for a short moment before putting the papers back into the manila file folder.

“What’re you doing?” Harry perks up, straightening his posture and pushes his chair back slightly.

“We have been going in circles for two hours. I think we are in need of a break, no?”

“Uh- sure yeah,” Harry left a pregnant pause before he spoke again, “Do you- uh- do you want to get food?”

Y/N stood from her chair with a relieved sigh. She checks her watch before looking at Harry, “I think that’s a conflict of interest,” she sent him a soft smile.

“What if we just conveniently end up at the same restaurant?” Harry asks, “Then maybe our tables are right next to each other so we just decide to sit at the same table to save space.”

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle and glances at the microphone that sat at the table. Harry eyes the microphone and stands up, his jacket dropping on top of it.

“I’ll be at the café down the road in ten minutes- please don’t be late,” Y/N whispers. Harry sends her a smile before nodding slightly and picking up his jacket, making his way to the door, leaving in a hurried motion.

Y/N smiles to herself before following him, leaving at a leisurely pace. “We’ll be back in an hour, Theresa. Keep the room open, please.”

Y/N was purposefully vague with her location- she didn’t know if he was just fucking around or if he genuinely wanted to have lunch. So, she settled on telling him it was a café- one of four that was down the road from the station. She said not to be late so she knew that if he found her, he was being serious.

It was an odd precaution to take, but she was not going to allow Harry, a supposed murderer, seduce her into relieving his suspect status. She was careful and calculated for that reason. She wanted to ensure that he wasn’t using her in the many ways he could.

Y/N was a beautiful woman and Harry was not blind to that. She sat prim and proper and wore clothes that fit her body just right. Her face, though seemingly free of makeup, seemed to be the most attractive one he’s seen in ages- though he would never let that slip. As much as he could deny his involvance with the case, he was a suspect and getting lunch with his interrogator is all too suspicious to begin with.

“You found me,” she smiled once she saw Harry’s curls in her peripheral vision.

“Honest to god, it was the first place I looked. And I used to come here all the time. Food’s the best,” he said, settling in across from her.

She looked up from the menu she held in her hands, “Used to?”

“Am I still under interrogation?” Harry asked while setting his coat across his chair.

“Are there still cameras here?” Y/N countered.

“Probably,” Harry shrugged, “You can never be too sure.” He nodded in appreciation as a waiter passed him and handed him a menu of his own. “I stopped coming when my mum passed. We would come here for brunch every Sunday with my sister. Haven’t really been here all too often in the past few years.”

Y/N hummed in understanding, “Makes sense. I only come here after a long shift. Not exactly my favorite place to eat but it’s close. And good enough.”

“What do you mean not the best,” Harry’s jaw dropped dramatically.

“What have you not been to the diner downtown? Maybe three blocks from here?”

“Uh, no?”

“Well that’s why this is sufficient for you,” she jokes, “Nothing compares to that place.”

“What does it have sentimental value to you?”

“A bit. Used to go there all the time when I was in school. I did everything there- studied, talked,” she paused, “ate.”

“Yes, the most important. Eating.” Harry countered.

“Okay, so what do you recommend from here?”

“Well, for breakfast, I’d say the tofu scramble, for lunch I’d order the meatball sub- marinara and melted cheese of course,” Harry looked up at the girl in front of him to see she had a wide smile.

“Of course.”

“For a snack I’d get any pastry- they have new ones all the time so I just try what sounds good. They’re always unbelievable. And for dinner,” Harry hums while scanning the menu, “For dinner I liked the french onion soup,” Harry concluded.

Y/N’s face scrunched together in disbelief, “French onion soup? God, you are crazy.”

“I’ll be honest I don’t like it from anywhere but here. It’s just done so well,” Harry confesses.

“I won’t take your word for it. Sorry,” Y/N says, “But I will try that meatball sub. Can you order for me? I don’t know what exactly to say,” she trailed off, her lower lip jutting out slightly with that request.

Harry hummed a yes before getting up to fulfill the request. Y/N’s eyes followed his body diligently. He walked with a sense of purpose and carried his body easily- it was almost scary to the girl who sits across from his empty seat. What was his purpose?

He stood watching the chef make their two identical sandwiches in a comforting silence. He was taken back to his youth where this was a regular occurrence- watching the older man as he puts the subs under broiler so the cheese could melt just right- something he always found fascinating. He could probably make the sub from memory after watching it be made so many times.

He nodded in appreciation, paying for the subs in exact change before bringing them back to their table, “Two meatball subs with melted cheese and marinara.”

“Of course,” Y/N smiled, beginning to eat the (surprisingly) amazing sandwich.

Harry ended up going back to a station for another hour before leaving back to his studio for the night. He had a great lunch with Y/N and was filled with a lifetime of regret for not getting her number. He knew if he called the station for it, the call would be recorded and she would get in trouble. So, he was stuck.

It was less than a day since their last meeting and there he was, sitting in front of a bare wall with his eyes locked on the texture that could be seen over the white paint. He found himself in a fit of fury with himself- maybe he should say he has more information so he could see her again? But he knew that wouldn’t bode well for the case.

He had no way to contact her, but then again, he wasn’t in a position to speak to her outside of the case anyway. He was still a suspect and she was still his investigator, even if she was a funny, uplifting girl who he had found himself thinking about constantly.

The only way they could make contact would be if she went into his file to find his number, or in other words, their reconnecting lies on the flimsiest threads. And that devastated the man.

He was apprehensive to go out drinking again. He always seemed to black out; not remembering a single detail from his previous night's adventures. But, he found that not remembering was the key to getting over the girl in the navy pantsuit, so he decided to forget.

He had gone out with Niall, going bar hopping for a few hours before Harry couldn’t stand anymore and he passed out in a bar bathroom. Niall was busy with a girl he had seen when he walked in so Harry was alone. He felt the world revolving around him as he laid against the bar countertop with his head on his arms.

Y/N didn’t notice it was Harry when she walked into the bar. In fact, she didn’t even see him. His back was slumped over his body and the poor guy seemed to be out of his mind. It was a wonder that she had a feeling she knew the man.

She stood next to him as she asked for a scotch on the rocks with a twist- her usual. She glanced at the man a few times, trying her hardest to not be rude, “I’m sorry, is he okay?” she asked the bartender who just shrugged in response before moving to another customer.

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh before gently bringing a hand to his shoulder, “Sir?” she called to him.

He let out a few grumbles before moving his head up slightly, “I’m alright,” he slurred together before dropping his head back down.

“I don’t think you are,” she muttered to herself before sitting down in the seat next to his, “Do you have someone who can take you home?”

“I have two working legs.”

“I don’t think they are working very well tonight,” she chuckled at him.

He groaned before moving his head to look at the girl who was sitting next to him, “My friends somewhere ‘round here,” his eyes shut even tighter than before.

That’s when Y/N recognized the man who sat next to her. Her eyes widened in realization, “Harry?” she asked in shock.

Harry’s eyes opened instantly at the sound of his name. He let out a sigh when he saw it was just Y/N. “Thought I heard my mum’s voice. Don’t do that to me,” he tells her.

“Why are you here?” she asks as Harry sits up.

Harry paused before answering, “I have my reasons.”

Y/N chuckled, “Well alright. I’m going to head out. Stay safe tonight, Harry,” she told him.

Harry was quick to reply, “Wait!” he called after her.

Y/N turned around, slightly unimpressed with his timing, “Yes?”

“Can I- can I get your number?” he asks, his syllables hardly pronounced.

Y/N glanced at her friends who were off dancing before looking back at Harry, “Sure,” she responded.

Harry’s face was quick to become one of pure excitement, looking exactly like a kid in a candy shop, “Alright,” he fumbled a bit while handing her his phone.

It was routine for Niall to be gone into the night with a random girl- truly it was routine for Harry to be gone too. But, he had a change of heart recently so he began wandering the streets on his own before finding his way home in the depth of the night.

He wasn’t fully sure of where he was going but he knew he would find his way back eventually- just an overpriced uber ride away from his home. He began by walking to his mother's grave. It wasn’t a new thing that he did but it hurt just as much each time. He would go sit with her and grieve silently as the night washed away from him.

Old habits die hard and there he was at the graveyard’s entrance looking to see if anyone was there. It was three in the morning but he knew the night was just beginning. People were still out and people, alike from Harry, were grieving.

He sat there at his mother's grave for a while, his thoughts racing. He felt as if he wasn’t in control of his own body. The whole world was speeding by and his legs carried him in circles around the town, always leading back to the graveyard, as Harry’s brain was extremely detached from his actions.

That probably explains why what he did next was so shocking to him.

He wasn’t fully conscious- he couldn’t tell you anything that has happened since he left the bar. Harry was out of it. That was a fact. He stood at his mother's gravestone, a knife in hand (the one he kept hidden under a pile of slowly rotting flowers that he would bring once a week).

He stood to his full height when he saw the headlights approaching the lot next to him. Out stepped a young man white rich, red hair. He was tall, taller than Harry, and he had a devastated look on his face.

Harry guessed the man was in his very early twenties. He looked like a university student who got to go off campus for the weekend. There seemed to be another person in the car but it was hard for him to see properly, ‘If I can’t see them, they can’t see me, right?’ he told himself.

Harry watched the man approach a grave a bit farther from where he stood. He waited exactly two minutes before walking towards him with a sinister smile masked on his face.

The man’s eyes flickered to Harry’s before going back to the grave, “I’m sorry for your loss,” Harry speaks lowly to the man.

He looked directly as Harry and mustered up a small smile before his eyes widened in realization. Harry’s hand made contact with his chest, the knife slicing through his body readily. The color of the crimson blood made him grin- he felt justice when he saw the blood oozing off another human: first his mum, then her murderer, and now an innocent.

Harry was very satisfied, ready to walk back to his home and wash the blood off his hands, quite literally, when he heard a few footsteps crunching the dead leaves that had fallen on the ground in the dead of winter.

And that’s when he heard her angelic voice calling out his name. He could only imagine the expression on her face while her voice, as smooth as honey, called out to him, “Harry?”

He turned expectantly to the woman he had grown infatuated with, “Hello, Y/N.”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #Harry Styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles oneshot #harry styles oneshots #harry styles fanfic #harry fanfic #harry imagine #harry imagines #harry styles imagines

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lizhly-writes · 3 years

Text

i do not have anything very new for you this week. i do, however, have this revised version of the first chapter of the ‘villainess’ side of my heroine-villainess isekai bodyswap story, which is, essentially, a full rewrite. i have made some changes that have brought our pov character a little more in line with my mental image of her. to quote someone that i had look at this: ‘Before mina seemed more refined like she kills u by poisoning u thru ur tea and then "ohoho"ing as u slowly lose consciousness and die, and now mina seems like she kills u by straight up ripping ur spine out lol’

i always did wonder why i never saw the ‘original’ villainess in otome isekai stories do some major physical damage for funsies, y’know?

warning: this thing is 2k+ words long.

Why’s it so fucking loud. Who’s screaming bloody murder in here? Shut up, I got the worst headache and whatever slick steaming pile of shit you think you are, you ain’t making it better. If you won’t keep that hole in your face quiet, what if I just heal it closed? You won’t get a choice then, how about that?

I’m laid out flat on the floor, too. It’s wet, there’s something soaking in my shirt and my hair. It better not be vomit. Three fucking faces of Knight, how much did I drink last night.

I crack an eye open. “Th’ fuck’s goin’ on.”

There are people with the dumbest fucking faces staring down at me. “You’re awake!” one of them exclaims, like everyone else has useless holes for eyes. Course I’m awake, that something you really feel you gotta tell the world?

“Shit, really? Wow! Never woulda guessed,” I say as I drag myself to my feet. Urgh, feels like I drank my way through the entire bar. Did I get run over by a carriage or something too? I’m real fucked up — balance off, arms and legs ain’t landing right, everything aches, and I got clothes on that look like I stole them from a crackpot fashion student.

Though, hey, looks like everyone here is dressed like that. Maybe it’s the crackpot fashion student side of campus. I’m in some really shiny cafe, by the looks of it. The aesthetic here is… really something. Didn’t know we had this kind of place at the university.

Let’s put that aside for now. I crack my neck and ignore everyone talking at me as I give the entire place a once-over. No sign of Emily or Asher, which doesn’t sound right. If I’m this messed up, normally Asher’d be right there with me. Emily, at least, would’ve tracked me down and tried to kick me in the head or something. Not that I’d need a kick in the head, it hurts bad enough as it is. Maybe enough that I can say that I’ve knocked something loose. Hearing’s definitely off, it’s doing funny things to my voice. Not liking that very much at all.

“How much is a drink ‘round here?” I say, because while alcohol got me into this, I’ve heard great things on how alcohol can get me out of this.

“I don’t think you need a drink,” says an absolute fucking killjoy from somewhere behind me.

“‘Scuse me?” I say as I do an about-face. The killjoy in question looks boring enough that I’d forget him instantly if it weren’t for the eyes. Real pretty shade of blue, nice enough that probably some asshole’s tried yanking them from his skull. It’s a wonder he still has them! Maybe he’s a good enough fight that people don’t bother, huh?

He doesn’t react when I step in for a closer look — yeah, there we go, left eye, the scars are barely there, but it looks like someone’s been using their nails to make an attempt. Honestly, you’d think he’d flinch a little with me getting that close to his face, it’s not like his glasses’ll be any good at protecting him. But no, he just stands there and says, “I think you need first aid. You might have a concussion. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re bleeding. A lot.”

…Hmm.

“Am I?” I say. I reach for the bits of me that I’d hoped hadn’t been sitting in vomit and… yeah. My fingers come away red.

Trace a little further up to the back of my head, and there’s the head wound. Not as deep as I’d think, but it’s there, along with a very long braid I don’t remember getting.

Maybe I am concussed. Should’ve noticed both of those things a lot sooner.

“Yeahhhhh, okay,” I say. “Lil later, then.” After I fix myself up, maybe.

“I think you’re actually supposed to avoid drinking after a concussion altogether,” says Absolute Fucking Killjoy.

“Fuck you,” I say. Of all things, that’s what gets him to flinch. Interesting priorities he’s got there.

About the drink, though. He ain’t wrong. I know how head wounds work. But those rules on what to do with them? That’s for other people.

“You need a doctor—”

Please. Last time I needed a doctor was years ago.

This kind of thing, it’s easy enough to take care of. So easy that it should be already healed up, but whatever. Just a little concentration, and —

And.

...What's this?

“That’s new,” I say, squinting at the crackling light running over the palm of my hand. Real fancy, real nice to look at. Doesn’t feel like much, but I bet I could make something like this hurt if I wanted to. Nice little add-on, this. I like what I got — I’m the best with what I got — but power is power. Nothing wrong with having a little extra in your punches.

Except this ain't anything I can do. This ain't anything I should be able to do. That’s pretty fucking strange, isn’t it?

“What are you doing,” says Killjoy, voice sharp.

The face he’s making is probably hilarious. It’s less interesting than the way light curls over my fingers, trailing over my wrist as I twist my hand this way and that. If I let it, maybe it’d spread further up my arm. How much higher could it go, really?

I don’t get to find out, because Killjoy snatches my hand, snapping his own fingers over it until only light you can see has to fight its way out from where skin meets skin. And then it’s not even that, dying away until it goes dark completely.

Oh this bitch.

“Well, ain’t you forward, huh?” I say, baring my teeth. “What d’you think you’re doin’?”

“You’ve got a concussion,” Killjoy reminds me, like he thinks I forgot. I ain’t forgetting nothing, got it? It’s easy to take care of — just a little thought, and maybe it’s taking a little more effort, but the skin knits up just fine.

I sweep a hand lightly over the back of my head, just to make sure everything’s in order. The swelling’s gone down, the bruising’s gone, eyesight seems pretty clear. Headache and bodyache’s still there, which is annoying. There’s been some improvement, but that’s not what I’m looking for. It should be gone. Is it not physical damage, then? What, is it psychosomatic or something? That’s a shit explanation.

It’s only after my self-checkup that I realize that Killjoy is still talking. “— can take you to the clinic,” he’s saying, sounding very earnest. He’s still holding my hand.

I shake him off impatiently. “That’s unnecessary,” I say, and push open the shiny glass doors so I can find Asher or Emily or someone and go on with my life.

I don’t get more than a few steps outside before I realize I’m running headfirst into a problem. Namely, that the outside that greets me is not the university. Not even close. Not unless the mayor sent the entire city crashing down and decided to rebuild from the ground up. Not unless everyone collectively decided to take overly-caffeinated fashion students’ advice when it came to everyday wear. Not unless somebody made far too many innovations in automobile development and decided to implement them on every vehicle I can see here. Not unless all of that happened while I was passed out.

No. I should have noticed that before, too. I don’t pass out. Alcohol fucks me up, sure. But I’ve never drunk so much that I got knocked unconscious. I’ve never been able to drink enough to knock me unconscious.

…I remember now. I didn’t go out drinking last night. No, what happened was that some asshole attacked me— or, you know, tried to attack me for maybe a solid minute before I started beating the shit out of him for daring to ambush me. I was doing quite a good job, if I do say so myself. I know I broke some bones, broke his face, had my hands around his neck, and it would have only taken me a second or so more -- just one good squeeze! -- to pulp his windpipe, and he would be dead.

But I didn’t get to that part. The last thing I remember was putting just enough pressure on his throat to make him choke, and then… nothing. That’s it. That’s all I have before I woke up in the cafe.

I’m missing something. I know I am. It’s pissing me off.

That fuckwad. What did he do? Clearly I made a mistake letting him breathe for more than a minute or so, I should’ve just killed him on sight. If I find him again — no, when I find him again — I’m going to squeeze the answers out of him and grind his skull into paste, I’m gonna make him wish he was never born, I’m gonna make sure he’s in so many fucking pieces no one can tell his —

“Hey,” says Killjoy, because I suppose he followed me out or something. “We really need to get you to a doctor. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but even if it’s not a concussion, it’s safer to get it looked at, you know? You said you were on university insurance, right? So it’s not like it’s even going to cost —”

And then he shuts up, because I have him by the collar of his shirt and he’s suddenly bent over enough that he’s barely an inch away from my face.

“Please. Would you kindly keep your mouth closed,” I say. “If not, I’m afraid I’ll have to make you choke on your own teeth. Do I make myself clear.”

Killjoy doesn’t close his mouth. It’s hanging open gently, his pretty blue eyes wide and shocked. But I suppose he understands the spirit of what I’m asking for, because he doesn’t say anything, even when I let him go and kindly push him back upright.

Well, no, actually, there is one thing. There’s a name he whispers: Allison. But it’s so quiet that I can generously pretend I can’t hear it and let him keep his mouth in one piece. I leave him standing there, and set off.

Where? It doesn’t matter. I walk through black-paved streets and stone-slab sidewalks, speed past too-tall buildings and too-bright colors and hoping for — I don’t know. One familiar building. Something, anything, that I can recognize.

But… nothing. It’s like I’m an entirely different country. An entirely different world.

How long was I out? Am I missing memories? What did that sad excuse for an ambusher do?

As if this day couldn’t get any better, Killjoy finds me at the entrance of a tiny, cramped alleyway, shadowed by buildings rising tall around.

“You just never fuckin’ give up, do you?” I say, sharp smile sliding easily across my face. I don’t know where I am, but I know I’m a fair distance away from where I started. He can’t have just coincidentally run into me. He had to have either followed me or known where I’d end up. It doesn’t matter which. Either option means that he’s still thinking of me.

He starts when I turn around and face him — he probably didn’t expect me to figure out he was there that quickly, huh? Well, I have to give him credit, he really is quiet. And he stays quiet, too, even as he scrambles backwards when I start stalking towards him.

“You gonna tell me I need a doctor again, huh?”

Go on. Say it. I gave you a warning, I told you what I’d do to you, it’s not my fault you can’t listen. I’m looking forward to it, actually! Thank you for showing up just when I needed stress relief!

“… not Allison,” Killjoy says, so softly I barely hear it.

“Pardon?”

“You’re not Allison,” he hisses, and oh, is that a sight — his eyes are aglow, the light behind them illuminating their blue so that it shines against the darkness. How pretty. How valuable. Even more so than when I thought the only thing that stood out about them was the color. Really, how good of a fight must he be that he still has them?

I’m gonna find out.

#original fiction #my writing #isekai #otome isekai #writeblr #everything #violence #implied violence

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haikyuupaladin · 4 years

Text

One Day

Since today is Epilepsy Awareness day, I thought I’d write a fic that raises some awareness for epilepsy. It’s a day in Asahi’s life with epilepsy. I hope you all enjoy! See the end for some important notes!

***

Asahi groaned as he rolled over in bed and looked at his alarm clock. His eyes blew open in surprise when he saw how late it was. “Shit. I’m going to be late for practice.” He ran to the bathroom with his volleyball clothes in hand, splashing his face with water, brushing his teeth, and quickly taking his meds as he tried to get dressed as quickly as possible at the same time. Once he’d done that, he threw some bread in the toaster and scrambled to make sure he had everything he needed for the day in his backpack and gym bag. When the toast was done, he quickly grabbed everything and ran out the door, eating the toast as he ran to practice.

“Sorry I’m late!” He called out as he burst through the doors of the gym, trying to catch his breath.

“Oi, Azumane!” Coach Ukai called out and he winced. He’d only been back on the team for a week. This was not the impression he wanted to make on the new coach. “Warm up and then I want to talk to you for a bit!”

“Ok!” Asahi yelped. A week of being back and he was sure to get kicked off the team already at this rate. Coach Ukai probably thought he was being lazy and avoiding practice, never mind the fact that the rest of the team had just barely finished their warmups when he’d made it there. Their last coach had been super strict about attendance and Daichi had said that the new coach was his grandson, so Asahi was wary.

He did his warmups as carefully as possible, putting off the lecture he was sure to receive, but eventually, there was nothing more he could do to warmup. He slowly stride over to where Coach Ukai was sitting on the bench, flipping through something on his clipboard.

“Sit,” the man gestured to the bench beside him, and Asahi reluctantly joined him.

“I really am sorry I was late today coach, it won’t happen again! I must’ve slept through my alarm but I promise I’ll make sure I’m early tomorrow to make up for it!” Asahi started rambling until he was given a strange look and interrupted.

“What? No no no, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. You’re like… five minutes late, it’s not a big deal as long as you don’t make it a habit to be late every day.” Asahi let out a sigh of relief.

“What did you want to talk to me about then?” Asahi asked, wracking his brain for any other topics he should be worried about.

“The school just finally gave me your file,” Ukai told him and Asahi froze.

“If this is about that fight with Noya last year I promise that won’t happen again either!” Asahi panicked.

Ukai gave him a deadpan stare. “Will you let me finish what I’m saying before you start panicking?! You’re not in trouble, that was already dealt with and frankly, as long as it doesn’t affect the team going forward, I don’t really care. What I do care about is the fact that I’m technically responsible for you kids now. I wanted to talk to you about the medical section of your records.”

Asahi sighed, in relief but also frustration. “Oh. That. Yeah, I have epilepsy, it shouldn’t interfere with volleyball though. Well except for some of my doctor’s appointments but I can schedule those around anything major. I haven’t had a seizure in a year and a half and on the off chance something did happen, all the third years and Tanaka and Noya know and they all know what to do.” By the time he was halfway through his explanation, Asahi was no longer sure if he was trying to reassure the coach or himself. Just because his meds were working, didn’t mean there wasn’t the possibility of a breakthrough seizure at any time, and if that happened, it could interfere with volleyball, and that was the absolute last thing he wanted.

“Is there anything I should look out for?” Ukai pressed.

“Trust me, if something happens, you’ll know,” he laughed, slightly bitter.

“I know that kid,” groaned Ukai. “I meant like… before.”

“Not really,” Asahi shrugged. “My parents say they can tell by my eyes but I don’t really know what they mean by that.”

Ukai nodded. “And let’s say something does happen, what should I do?”

“Mainly just time it and get anything I can hurt myself on away from me” Asahi mumbled wanting to get away from this conversation now. He knew the coach was trying to be helpful, but talking about it like this was making him more nervous that something would happen, and that was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. “Can I go join practice now?”

“Sure,” Ukai pinched the bridge of his nose, looking frustrated. “Just… let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Asahi nodded cautiously before running off to join the rest of the team in spiking drills.

***

“What was that all about earlier?” Suga asked when they stopped for a water break.

“You’re not in trouble or anything are you? I can talk to coach if you are,” Daichi chimed in.

“It was nothing like that,” Asahi shook his head, appreciating his friends’ concern. “He wanted to talk about my epilepsy.”

Suga raised an eyebrow at that. “Really? He does know you haven’t had a seizure since first year, right?”

“I mean, it makes sense though,” Daichi shrugged. “I don’t think he has any experience with that sort of stuff, makes sense he’d be a little freaked out I guess.”

Kiyoko nodded quietly beside him.

“It was kind of embarrassing though,” Asahi admitted, whining.

“Why?” Daichi laughed.

“I’m pretty sure none of the first years even noticed,” Kiyoko said, placing a hand on Asahi's back comfortingly.

“Hinata and Kageyama definitely didn’t,” Suga said, eyes sparkling with laughter. “They were too busy fighting, I’m not even sure what started it,but Tsukishima was encouraging it.”

“And you were doing nothing to stop it,” Daichi pointed out. “I can’t believe you’re my vice captain sometimes.”

“Hey! Let me have my fun!” Suga complained. “I would’ve stepped in if it got out of control but it was amusing and you seemed to have it under control anyway.”

Asahi relaxed as the conversation turned towards the antics of the first years. Suga always knew just how to steer the conversation how he wanted to, and not for the first time, Asahi was glad that Suga used that for his benefit sometimes.

***

The rest of practice had gone by without incident, Kiyoko and Suga were right, nobody else had even noticed Coach Ukai calling him over, or if they did they’d chosen not to ask about it. The conversation had made Asahi more aware of potential auras than usual though, and it had been hard to focus in class. He had a weird headache for a bit during third period and he’d spent most of class muttering to himself and fidgeting with his hands, trying to focus on the fact that his jaw and hands seemed to be working just fine, finding reassurance in that, though he was still nervous. He’d have to ask Kiyoko for the notes later.

It was lunchtime now though, and Asahi hoped that his friends would be a welcome distraction from his worries. “Asahi! Hey!” Noya called out as Asahi exited his classroom. He chuckled fondly and shook his head.

“Hey Noya, what’s up?”

Noya regaled Asahi with stories of his day as they walked to meet up with Daichi, Suga, and Tanaka. How Noya always had so much to say, Asahi would never know but he was grateful for it right now, the conversation kept him from getting too stuck in his own head. He grinned as they spotted the others and joined them, the rest of his worries melting away for the moment as they fell into easy conversation, Daichi scolding Noya and Tanaka for their antics as Suga egged them on.

After practice, Daichi, Suga, and Kiyoko walked home with Asahi for their weekly movie night. He’d been avoiding them during his time off the team, but it was nice to see how quickly they fell back into these old habits with him. He’d missed Daichi and Suga’s teasing and their laughter and how they would jostle him around, and he’d missed how Kiyoko would giggle at their antics despite her halfhearted futile attempts to get them to behave.

He was even more grateful for how easily they fell back into old habits when the movie they chose ended up having more flashing lights than he remembered. On another day he might’ve been able to brush it off and keep watching, but despite having calmed down from earlier, he was still being more vigilant than usual, so he covered his eyes and looked away. Suga noticed and paused the movie.

“Shit, sorry Asahi, we forgot how bad this part can get. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Asahi mumbled, a little self conscious about how nervous he was. On any other day he’d be able to handle this so it was a little embarrassing to be avoiding them right now.

“So how are we doing this?” Daichi asked casually. “Different movie or do you want us to narrate for you?”

Asahi laughed. He’d almost forgotten how easily his friends adapted to these situations for him.

“Narrating’s fine. We all like this movie and if we have to pick a new one we’ll have to reschedule movie night with how long it’ll take us to decide.”

Daichi laughed. “That’s true. Ok then, you ready to start back up?”

Asahi nodded, and soon the room was filled with more laughter than before as Daichi and Suga humorously described what was going on, with Kiyoko chiming in with quiet corrections or details that the other two were forgetting to mention. Asahi couldn’t help but laugh at some of the descriptions his friends were using and his heart filled with warmth as his friends did their best to make sure he didn’t miss anything about the movie, even throwing in some of their usual jokes about the movie in their descriptions.

***

Later that night, Asahi’s friends escorted themselves out and headed home. He still lay on the couch, too tired to move, but groaning as he knew he had to. He wanted to pass out on the couch, but he had to go take his nighttime dose of his meds. He lay there for a few more minutes before finally deciding if he didn’t get up now, he wasn’t going to be able to and dragging himself off the couch. He walked drowsily to the bathroom, blearily took his meds and then stumbled to bed. It had been a long day, but a good one, he smiled to himself as he fell asleep.

***

Notes time! First I want to make it clear that the medical side of things depicted here is based on my personal epilepsy and should not be read as a one size fits all type of deal.

Second, Ukai’s assumption that it will be noticeable when Asahi has a seizure is accurate for Asahi, but not for everyone. Some types of seizures are barely noticeable on the outside, if at all, and even then you have o know what you’re looking for.

Third, Asahi’s explanation of seizure first aid is not a complete explanation, for more on seizure first aid please look at https://www.epilepsy.com/living-epilepsy/seizure-first-aid-and-safety (I’m not making it a link so it will show up in the tags, but I have provided the entire url).

Fourth, an aura is a warning sign or set of warning signs leading up to a seizure. Not everyone has one, and it can be hard to recognize it if you do sometimes.

And fifth, Please take today as an opportunity to learn more about epilepsy. www.epilepsy.com and www.talkaboutit.org are my personal favorite starting points to recommend, as well as reading through some of the blogs in the epilepsy community here on tumblr.

#Epilepsy #epilepsy awareness #asahi azumane #karasuno third years #daichi sawamura #sugawara koushi #ukai keishin #kiyoko shimizu #actually epileptic #haikyuu!!

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buckthegrump · 4 years

Text

IBTHNTTTY - 10

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Y/n hates Bucky Barnes. Absolutely loathes him what makes it worse is that she has to share her office with him. Now with a promotion on the horizon she has to find a way to work with him and not against him.

Word Count: 1464

Warnings: this one has a lot of fluff, swears, sickness stuff, your welcome

A/n: this fic is just the gift that keeps on giving

The next time Y/n opened her eyes, there was an obscenely beautiful black man with his face directly in front of her. She squinted at him.

“How are you feeling?” The strange man asked.

“Like everything is on fire,” she answered, “Who are you?”

“I’m Sam. I’m a doctor.”

“What kind of doctor?” Y/n flipped onto her back. “Because with my luck, you’re some kind of ass doctor.”

She hadn’t realized that doctors still did house calls.

“I’m a physician, so I’m equipped to handle almost everything. So no, I don’t specialize in asses. But I could make an exception for yours.” Sam smiled at her.

“Even if I wasn’t sick, that line would make me gag.” Speaking of which, her stomach lurched again.

“C’mon, Sunflower,” Bucky spoke from her other side. He was still on the bed, his hand now on her hairline. His thumb was gently stroking her forehead. “You gotta sit up so he can check you out.”

“Oh, so he can also specialize in my boobs?” Y/n teased as she sat up.

“Making jokes even with a fever of 104,” Sam said, nodding, “I like this one, Barnes.”

“Stop flirting with your patient,” Bucky grumbled.

Sam took her temperature and looked at her throat. While he was doing all this, Y/n’s eyes were trained on Bucky. His eyes were bouncing between her and Sam, he never actually made eye contact with her, but he looked at her.

As she looked, no, gazed at him. Because that’s what she was doing, gazing up at him like a lovesick fool. And she was decidedly not in love, she was however sick. But she was trying to remember why he called her sunflower. He’d been doing it since their first week together.

Had he seen the tattoo on her upper thigh? No, there hadn’t been an opportunity for that. Except for last night. This morning? When had she gone home from work?

“What day is it?” She asked, completely forgetting about her other question. She laid back down, not having the strength to sit up for much longer.

“It’s still Friday,” Bucky answered.

She opened her mouth to make a snarky remark but closed it and gagged again.

“Bucky claims that your temp spiked to 104, but it’s dropped back to a cool 102. So unless it spikes again and stays at 104 for longer than thirty minutes, you should be fine,” Sam said. “Barnes, flush her with fluids. Don’t let her die from dehydration.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Bucky said. He was obviously trying to rush him out the door, but Doctor Sam wasn’t having it.

Sam turned to Y/n smiling. “Give me a call once you’re better. I’ll take you to a fancy restaurant and let you order anything off the menu.”

“Goodbye, Samuel!” Bucky ordered.

“Gesh, I’m going.” Sam sent her a wink over his shoulder. “Tony says to stop ignoring his calls!”

“Tell him I’m not ignoring them, I’m a little busy. And he doesn’t have to call me all the time.”

The door slammed, and Bucky turned his attention to Y/n again. This time, he made eye contact with her.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Better, but I’m cold again.”

“That would be the fever,” Bucky sighed. He sank down, so he was lying next to her. She snuggled into his right side, he stilled at the movement. He took a deep breath and unfroze.

“Why do you call me sunflower? And why does Tony Stark ‘check-up’ on you? Are you some sort of genius?” She mumbled into his side.

“The first day we worked in the office together, there was a bouquet of sunflowers on your desk -”

“They were from my parents. Sunflowers are my favorite,” she whispered.

“Yeah, I know. The fact that your family sends them to you every year on your birthday or any other significant day kind of gave you away. And if that hadn’t been a giveaway, your tattoo would’ve clued me in.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“How did you -” That’s when she realized that her shirt and sheets had been changed. “You’ve seen my boobies.”

“No, you changed your own shirt,” he chuckled, “You didn’t even wait for me to look away. Luckily, I have quick reflexes. But your little sunflower did peek out a few times. It’s cute.”

“Have you ever wanted to see my boobies?”

“Do you really want to know the answer to that? Because if I say yes, you will think I’m a pig who only ever thinks about women to sexualize them. On the flip side of that, if I say no, you might be offended that I wouldn’t want to see your bosom.”

“Well, knowing that you are the kind of person that says bosom, I’m leaning towards you saying no,” she chuckled.

“I just edited a romance novel. It was the first thing that came to mind that wasn’t tits,” Bucky said. Y/n laughed, a little obnoxiously for someone who was sick, but she couldn’t help it.

“Well, I forgive you for not saying tits while I’m all sweaty and gross.” She draped her arm across his stomach. “I’m sorry that I’m getting you all sweaty. And thank you for changing my sheets.”

“It’s no problem, sunflower. Now, go to sleep.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” Her body was exhausted, her eyes already closed.

“I’d never leave you,” he whispered, but Y/n wasn’t sure if she’d heard him correctly or if she would remember this when she woke up.

* * *

Y/n went in and out of consciousness. Oftentimes, Bucky was still there by her side. At one point, he’d changed into different clothes, not ones she recognized but definitely not the ones he’d worn to work on Friday.

There were a few times when Bucky hadn’t been in bed with her, but she heard him in the kitchen fussing about. He’d returned before she fell back asleep and made her take some sort of medicine and force-fed her broth. Ok, maybe he didn’t force-feed it to her, but there was absolutely him spoon-feeding her like an infant.

“I can feed myself, ya know,” she said. He made an oh-my-apologies-your-majesty face and held out the spoon for her. “No, I don’t want to.”

“Then quit complaining,” Bucky said. He returned to feeding her quietly. They sat there in silence; the only sound in the room was the occasional clink of the spoon hitting the bowl. “When you called yourself unloveable. . . Do you believe that?”

“I have no proof that it’s wrong,” she wiped her chin of a dribble that almost ran down her neck, “and that was more about romantic love than any other type of love.”

Bucky stared at her after putting the now-empty bowl down. Y/n, who was feeling better, was still a little sick and still a rambler. So she stupidly opened her mouth so more words could fall out.

“That time I told you about the corn maze? It’s the one and only date I’ve ever been on, until recently. But I don’t really count that as a date, given the outcome. And no one’s ever tried to kiss me. Not that I haven’t kissed anyone, but it was never in a romantic sense. It was once or twice for a play. And then once while I was drunk at a party, and that was the quickest of pecks.” She gasped, preparing herself to continue.

“Am I not attractive enough? I know I’m not a classic beauty or very hot. . . I just want to be desired by someone.” Y/n looked down at her lap. She was unable to look at him; she couldn’t risk the pity that was undoubtedly in his eyes. Hit with another wave of exhaustion, she laid back down, mumbling thanks to Bucky before drifting back to sleep.

* * *

Being asleep while sick had always been weird for Y/n. It was almost as if she was never truly asleep for most of it, at least after the first day.

Which is why she wasn’t sure it had happened. It was definitely a dream, but a small part of her had hoped it was real.

“I think you’re beautiful and very desirable. I don’t get how you’ve gone this long, thinking that no one will ever love you the way you want to be loved. It blows my mind that no one has even tried.” Bucky’s fingers lightly traced shapes across her arm that was still over his stomach. Or it had returned to his stomach. In her dream, and probably in real life as well, she pressed herself closer to him. “One of these days I’m going to have to tell you that.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au

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husbandograveyard · 4 years

Note

oh can i send in a request? What about Killer and Law (seperate) trying to set up a special date night for their fem!s/o?

Hi love! I had way more fun than I thought I’d have writing these. I don’t necessarily picture them as the most romantic people, but with the right person, under the right circumstances, magic can be made! I hope you enjoy these!

slight suggestive themes. only a little. They’re also super long (especially Killer’s)! Sorry/You’re welcome? (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

Preparing a date night HC - Killer, Law

Killer

You've been together for quite some time now, but well, dates and such don't really fit into a pirate's life, especially not if that pirate's captain is Eustass Kid.

There's been plenty of occasions where you had tried to get some quiet time, some privacy, but alas, Kid was always there to interrupt, needing Killer for the most unnecessary things, but with Kid shouting outside your door there are only so many romantic things you can do.

And thus actual date nights were out of the question most of the time. You didn’t particularly mind, and any time spent with your masked boyfriend was a good time. But sometimes you fantasized about how nice it would be to just have a moment of quiet and an actual date for just the two of you.

Killer had been meaning to actually get something done, but he had to wait the perfect time. When the Victoria Punk docked at an island that the captain did not want to burn down, the time seemed perfect. During the day, the ship would get some minor reparations, supplies would be stocked up, and after the entire crew would be on land drinking some bar dry.

They’d be up drinking for most of the night, and afterward, when they came back on ship, would soon pass out, and sleep well into the day, leaving an entire evening and night for you and Killer.

He wanted to keep it a surprise though, so he did his chores as fast as he could to get some things in order before you came back to the ship from your supply hunt.

Now, Killer is not particularly romantic, nor does he really know how to do ‘romantic’, but is not stupid. He can ask a few random shopkeepers what is romantic, and then compile his own romantic night out of it.

Nice dinner, that’s something he can do. Flowers? got it. A few candles? Sure, how hard can it be?

The hardest thing is honestly keeping you away from his room or the kitchen. Because you too, wanted to spend as much time as possible with him while the crew goes out to party, and you had also rushed through your chores.

Killer just told Kid you would be willing to help with something insanely time consuming, and Kid was more than eager to give you orders to do it. Killer felt a little bad, but it was necessary to get you to stay away so he could get everything prepared.

You were ready to barge into the kitchen all pissed off after the work, angry that you had spent some precious time that could already be spent together with your captain instead, especially since the latter had been nagging you the whole time.

All your anger immediately ebbed away when you took in the state of the kitchen. The table actually had a tablecloth on it, with a vase with some beautiful flowers that looked like they were put in rather roughly. Beautiful nonetheless.

Candles everywhere, and if Kid were here you’d probably all put them out immediately so your captain couldn’t throw any in a fit of anger and accidentally set the ship on fire. But for now, they gave the perfect atmosphere as it was slowly getting dark outside.

It smells terrific as well, and the plates suggest dinner is for two. Killer made sure the whole crew knew to go get dinner in town before their drinking adventure, and that no one had to be near the kitchen for the entire evening. No one had dared go against him.

You finally can quietly talk, enjoy some quality food, and since no one is going to be around, Killer is comfortable enough to remove his mask for a while, further increasing the intimacy of the evening.

After dinner, accompanied by some good drinks and the best talks you’ve had in a while -even though it’s mostly you talking, Killer is, even without the mask, not the type of person to lead a conversation, more of a listener- it is time for dessert.

Killer literally carries you to your shared bedroom, careful not to forget his mask and blow out all the candles beforehand. After all, an entire quiet night together without anyone to disturb you is rare and you bet that he’s gonna make the absolute most of it.

Law

Law prefers quiet time spent together, away from the crew family above actual elaborate dates. Not that he doesn't know how to be romantic, he just sees way more meaning in taking a rare nap together, a cuddle session, just the small intimate things.

But on special days, he'll make an exception, especially if you don't really think those dates are really special, such as birthdays and anniversaries.

They're nice to acknowledge, but you know very well pirate life is too busy for elaborate parties and dates. You’ll settle for a good old fashioned cuddle session.

Law, however, actually keeps track of those dates better than you do, and will sometimes surprise you, even if you have forgotten, he will make sure you remember it’s a special day.

Today was your anniversary, and you seemed to be in your usual blissful ignorance of the date, which made Law’s preparation work easier for him.

He is very lucky his crew is extremely helpful when it comes to things like this. Sachi and Penguin cooking something for the both of you, Law dares not touch the stove. He may be a skilled doctor, but put a knife in his hands instead of a scalpel, and you better keep the fire extinguisher ready for whenever he puts something on the stove. It’s usually cause he’s too busy focussing on one single aspect, as you would with an operation, but not really useful when there are multiple parts of the dish cooking at the same time. So yeah, the crew to the rescue for the food.

Bepo will help distract you most of the day, asking you for help with little problems and other things, before leading you to your room, where Law will have put your favorite heart-pirate branded outfit on the bed with a note to meet him outside.

by then you will realize what kind of day it is exactly, and when you put on the outfit and go outside, you will notice that with the help of Bepo’s navigation, probably calculated days beforehand, the Polar Tang has surfaced at a beautiful place, the moon shining brightly and the sky filled with thousands of stars.

Law will sit next to a small fire made by the crew to keep the two of you warm, a nice picnic prepared sitting next to him.

You will have dinner and some private time under the night sky. And just the sheer romanticism of it all will sweep you off your feet. The crew will respectfully stay away, Bepo guarding the door leading to the deck while not even looking over his shoulder in order to give his captain some privacy.

This is when you share some of your most tender moments, Law might even flash you one of his rare smiles as he wipes some food from your nose that you got there while enthusiastically telling him a story while eating.

After dinner, you will cuddle some under the starlight, Law amazing you with his knowledge of the stars and pointing at certain constellations to tell you their name. Even if you aren’t particularly interested, his smooth voice will calm you down and the cold night time, even with the fire, makes you huddle up even closer pretending it’s only so you can ask ‘which star exactly’ he was pointing at.

Date nights with Law are not the most special, but that makes them even more special. After all that, he will definitely put his work aside and try to battle his insomnia with you for a night. He’s so relaxed, and those evenings he finds it surprisingly easy for him to fall asleep, especially if you softly talk back to him while rubbing his back and hair, thanking him for the nice evening.

#killer x reader #law x reader #killer one piece #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law one piece #thank you bas for the proper eye color on law #youre our queen #One piece #one piece writing #one piece headcanon #one piece x reader #headcanon #reader insert #one piece HC #request #HC request #thenotsofantasticlifestory

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queensdivas · 4 years

Text

Peonies Chapter 5

This took me a little longer than expected because school has me wrapped up in papers and research projects. Someone do this work for me so I can sleep since I haven’t slept well in nights!!!!!!

But anyway. This chapter was interesting to write and I hope that y’all enjoy!!!

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Damn him. Damn him damn him! Grabbing the closest random vase to chuck it against the wall. Me! Sleeping with Peter? I would rather die in a pile of shit that had smallpox than sleep with that moron! It’s been a day and I still find those words making my stomach curl! Maybe another vase? Ah these this naked porcelain statue. Chucking it against the wall as it finally made me feel a little better.

How did I allow one man to have such control over my emotions! To flood my mind, body, and soul as if he is a flash flood in the valley! I don’t even..I’m going to drive myself into a pit of never ending darkness. That damn man with those...beautiful blue pools of his eyes that sparkle in the sunlight. I’ve never seen such beautiful eyes in my life. Those strong cheekbones that could cut someone with a knife.

FUCK!

Maybe write a letter..I imagine the family is missing me and I’ve only written two letters so far here. Father is probably worried that I’ve been converted to the Orthodox ways. (Well I’ve been breaking the laws of the catholic church but luckily these people are too busy with themselves). I sat down at my desk to begin thinking on how to send back a positive message when I’m dying on the inside.

Dear Father.

Remind me to never make allies with Russia if I ever become Queen of Italy. These people are uncultured, disgusting horny toads! It feels like I have walked into a brothel except they’re not a bunch of dirty poor people. Now it’s a vast amount of extremely broad people on the court.

I’m not asking for you to save me or come galavanting from the homeland to come save me. Catherine still needs a lot of help and it’s getting worse before it gets better. To think that I gave the Russians the benefit of the doubt because I knew Catherine would be a little sensitive to the whole situation. But this is just horrible. I literally witnessed the Emperor laying with someone in the middle of the hall!

This is definitely a reminder of what not to do when I become Duchess at least. No wild parties at court more than once a week, and no.

My chamber doors bursted open to see Marial storming in, closing the doors behind her. She turned her back and leaned against the door. A panic expression was written on her face as I was waiting for an explanation.

“Yes Marial?” Asking as I continued to work on my letter.

“We’ve got a problem?” I took a sip of my wine that I had sitting out with me.

“Don’t we always?”

“It’s Catherine.” Putting down the quill as I turned around in my chair to stare at her.

“Is Catherine alright?”

“Now that she's Leo , yes. But the ladies..they did something bad. Not extremely bad but bad.” Is this a situation where I should be extremely worried? Worried? Or just a pat on the shoulder should make her feel better.

“After we passed out the eggs to the ladies of the court, Lady Svenska invited her to the tea party she threw, they were in a dance and one of the ladies punched her in the noise and caused her nose blood.” No. NO! NOT WHILE I’M AROUND!

“Are they still at their dance?” Popping up from the chair as I walked over to my trunk.

“Yes. They will be for another hour or two.” Which means pastries and tea will be required. Did I bring it? I really thought I brought it YES!

“Please let Catherine know that I will be handling these women the way they should’ve been. Tossed back down to the station they truly belong in, not what they thought.” Ordering Marial as I rang my bell for Fernanda. She came in as I placed the bottle on the end of the desk.

“Yes M’Lady.”

“Did we bring tea dance attire?” Asking her as she nodded.

“Great. Get my full attire ready, I’m going to way these peasants.” AS before you know I hate wearing the wigs, corsets, layers of face paint, and the dress. But duty calls in this situation because no one lays a hand on my cousin!

Taking off my boots as I heard someone come running into my room as I waited to see who it was. Catherine slid in as I was still sitting there taking off my boots. If she thought she could talk me out of this then she’s surely mistaken.

“Chiara please don’t!” Catherine begged as Fernanda came in with the dress as Catherine looked like she was going to explode.

“You don’t have any idea how this country works and if you do something like this then you could ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for.” Catherine stood directly in front of me as I leaned back against the chair.

“Well your last plan turned out to be a disaster and look what they did!”

“Minor setbacks tend to happen in these situations.”

“You’d call that minor?” Pointing directly as her nose as I got up from my desk.

“Please Chiara just because this works in your country doesn’t mean the same thing here. Peter will see this as an attack and were right in the middle of a war! He would be more than happy to send soldiers just because you caused half the women of the court to suffer.” Rolling my eyes as I began unbuttoning my shirt.

“Might I make a suggestion?” Marial poked her head into the bedroom as we both turned to face her.

“There’s always smacking me down.” See we wouldn’t be in this situation if Catherine would’ve just listened to Marial and I!

“Yes! Look if you don’t smack her down then I’ll be taking this matter into my own hand. And of course it has to be in public. And you’ll really have to say something to really piss off Catherine.” She knows that if she doesn’t do it then I’ll be doing what I do best.

“The horse fucking.”

“Cause allegedly you did. Though I don’t know how you would but maybe if you sort of..”

“Fine. Tonight Elizabeth is throwing a party in honor of the archbishop being selected so I guess we’ll do it there. Can we talk privately?” Catherine whispered as I looked at Fernanda to leave the room. Marial followed suit to close the bedroom door for me to sit back down at my desk.

“Though I appreciate you willing to avenge my attack. I think you enjoy getting ahead of yourself.”

“We’re family. No one hurts la mia famiglia.” I turned away from her to walk over to the small liquor table that sits in my bedroom. Pouring her a glass of wine then grabbing mine from my desk.

“Here. Something to make you feel a little at home.” Handing it to her then she looked at the bottle.

“Gaja Ornellaia. Dark and sweet.” Clinking glasses together as we both took a sip. Motioning her to sit as she sighed.

“How do you deal with women of the court? Sucking up to them sounds torturous and there’s no way that I can stoop to their level of living.” Catherine sat down on one of the loveseats for me to sit down at my desk.

“This court is one that I won’t be forgetting till the day I die. It’s one that has been let loose to do their own bidding. For the moment I wouldn’t suck up to them, but obviously we’re on a mission to make everyone in favor of you instead of Peter. So gifts. Not like your golden eggs but something that will truly aid them in their boring day to day lives. Maybe a better doctor for instance, or even a dentist. Lord knows how rotted their teeths are and could use at least some sort of cleaning. Though they say their modern, it’s more a barbaric modern.”

“You’re the empress Catherine. You have a lot more power at your fingertips then you realize and they’re trying to make you inferior because you’re new to the court. If you really wanted to you could strip down Svenska from her station if you truly wanted to. Lord knows I would at this point in my mind.”

“The ladies are led by Svenska with the amount of money..”

“Who's the Empress of Russia? Who rules Russia? The donkey face can’t even work up the courage to hit you she sends one of her ladies to do it. I really need to find that mean bone in your body and drag it out of you. I’d hate to say it but there is no such thing as a loving Queen. Most of us who are in royal power must rule with an iron fist but that doesn’t mean to be a monster onto the people like your moron of a husband.”

“Be truthful and fair to the people. Gain their trust in the way they need it, not you.” Close enough.

“Tell me Chiara. What exactly were you going to do with the ladies if I hadn’t come by to stop you?”

“Remember that cruise two years ago?”

“Chiara!”

“What! It worked last time, why wouldn’t it work a second time.” It really would’ve and if something like that happens again while I’m around it will work again.

Catherine put her glass of wine down to then lean a little more towards me which caused me to lean back against the seat.

“You’re a lot more bitter than usual. Is everything alright?” No. Everything is not alright! How can any of this be alright! This country! These people! Backwoods! Horny toads that just do whatever they Goddamn please without respecting..Oh it’s not even that! Fucking Grigor accusing me of sleeping with the moron Emporer who has a mind of a child! How dare he accuse me! I wouldn’t have any sort of sexual contact with him if he was the last man on this earth. If the gates of hell were open and the choice for me to go into Heaven was having sex with Peter I still wouldn’t partake in it!

“Peachy. Just absolutely peachy.” Chugging the rest of my wine to then throw my empty glass against the wall.

“You know that scared me for the first few weeks of being here. But now..” Finishing her drink to then chuck it against the wall. Shattering against it as she laid down on the love seat.

“But now it’s become a permanent sound in my mental wallpaper.” Grabbing the bottle to then walk over to where she was laying then sat down next to her. Getting comfortable as I pulled the cork out with my teeth to spit it across the room. Taking a drink to then give her the bottle.

I’ve yet to look at the top of my room since I moved in. They’re cupids that are dancing around in the clouds. Not sure who exactly designed this room but those cupids...they're so masculine..Why are they so muscular? I know no baby ever comes out this muscular no matter who the father is. Zeus himself could not ever make a baby this muscular!

“Catherine. Catherine. Lookup.” Pointing directly at them as her head tilted in curiosity.

“They’re cupids.”

“Yes they’re cupids. But have you ever noticed that they’re extremely muscular. They’re babies and have more muscles than Zeus himself. Just look!” We began laughing as the bottles continued to go back and forth between the both of us. This is exactly what I think we both needed. No men, no Government, not worrying about anything and just laughing at extremely masculine cupids.

“How is Leo? How is having a lover in your life?”

“It’s..intoxicating and confusing. When I first arrived I planned to make Peter fall in love with me as I am a romantic. Then tossed into a wheel of uncertainty. Leo says that he has fallen for me and..it feels so wrong from everything I’ve once believed in.” That’s one word to describe everything I’ve gone through so far.

“Our worlds are messy. We always think that it will be easy as those before us. But the world...people..him..it’s unclear.”

What am I doing? I’m to be a Grand Duchess in the next year or two, there’s a possibility of being a Queen and I’m in a tiny crisis on how to deal with some Russian that’s just using to get back at his wife? That didn’t even feel like the case till he brought up Peter and the accusation. But...look what he’s going through in his life as I imagine he doesn’t want his wife to be behaving like this.

Grigor...Grigor...for some reason the thought of his arms being wrapped around me is helping me fall asleep..so peacefully. He does this thing with his thumb where it glides up and down where it’s placed and it brings such comfort.

After drinking for a little longer than predicted. Catherine and I ended up sleeping directly where we were sitting for more than two hours. Alcohol is such a good night medicine. Fernanda came in to wake us as we both felt like brand new people and we had to get ready for Elizabeths party.

Per usual I truly didn’t feel like getting shoved into a dress and from what I’ve gathered about Elizabeth this party will end up becoming a clothes off party. So why not just dress the part but not get involved. Besides...I want to piss off Grigor for his accusation so why to wear as little as possible for something he’s not receiving.

My beautiful crafted corset that was pink with gold floral designs all around it. My plain white long sleeve shirt was underneath the corset with my nice pair of black pants and boots. Quite the scandal some would say. (But as you know it’s me just trying to be comfortable.)

“Boot dagger.” Fernanda tossed the sheathed knife onto the bed as I placed my boot on the bed and placed it in the boot. And now we’re set.

“Feel free to let loose tonight. I should be able to get myself ready to sleep and probably will be extremely intoxicated.” She nodded as I fixed my shirt so that my chest would be a little more exposed than most times.

Wait, something is missing. Rings yes, boot knife yes, and OH! Necklace! Walking to the desk to pull out my jewelry box to pull out my pearl necklace. The first few rows of pearls were tight around the neck itself then relaxed across my chest. Oh yes. Much better.

Walking out of my bedroom to already hear the madness going down near the end of the hallway. I really need a break from this palace. I’m in Russia and I should be going into the cities to at least see them! Maybe Catherine would be up for a trip to Moscow or Saint Petersburg sometime soon. I think that it would do her some good to go out and see the people to get a complete understanding of the country that she lives in. It does no good for a rising Empress to preach about change when she hasn’t met her own subjects. At home I would constantly go out and about to see my people. Support their businesses and make sure everything was doing okay. Yes her and I are in different situations but going out every once in a while wouldn’t hurt.

Walking into the party to see people were holding snakes, animals, and...a bird? I must admit this is one interesting party. Reminds me of when we had an animal exposition a few months back and I got to see a Tiger from China! But I imagine that would be impossible here due to the fact that the tiger would eat all of them up.

Looking around to see the ladies were sitting around the fireplace laughing as I wanted to choke the donkey face till she turned a different color. Ah and George. The Emporers would be where you had the audacity to become angry when Grigor and I were fooling around. The hypocrisy that spills from her mouth is exhausting.

Speaking of Grigor, where is he? Trying not to look suspicious as I searched the room to see him sitting with Peter and children as they drink wine? They look around 10? Mother didn’t even let me touch a drop besides communion till I turned at least 12! He looked directly at me to form a smile on his face. Maybe I over blew the whole situation. Tends to be a problem of mine which I need to fix.

“These parties..so interesting.” Catherine commented as we continued into the party. A waiter passed by with one glass as I snuck it for myself.

“Remember the plan.” Winking as we both sat down with the bitches.

“So. Tell me of your lives here.”

“All is bliss in the court of Peter.”

“Of course life is bliss here. But if tiny improvements could be made, and I could help you as Empress, that would gladden my heart to be a friend and a use to you all.”

“Why don’t you stop the war?” Why don’t you stop being a child? Impossible. They all chuckled as I wanted to scream.

“I will note it down. But it is probably beyond me at this point. Maybe more immediate things.” I can’t chime in on this because I don’t really live here full full time. (Though it feels like I’ve been living here for ages!)

“Well, the carriages are always in disrepair. They do not fix it fast enough.” George chimed in. Always being helpful in gaining her own glory.

“I see. I shall look into it. How is your son Tatyana? Boris. He was unwell?”

“Fucking Chekhow saw him, but...We need better doctors than the Chekhovs. Boris coughs blood, and the fool puts leeches on his throat. I do not know doctoring but it seems ridiculous. And my dearest Boris gets sicker.” I truly can not imagine the horror of how this country would handle an outbreak of any sort of disease. Even if precautions are made to keep them at bay.

“He basically killed Raisa.”

“Exactly.”

“Indeed. We must have the most modern medicine. We shall bring a new doctor from France.”

“What a friend you are to us. How is Leo?” Is her life so dull that she must pry her big disgusting nose into Catherines love affair? Looking over to Catherine who looked uncomfortable for just a moment then smiled.

“He makes my skin tingle and my heart gladden.” They all giggled as I wanted to scream. It’s a private affair!

“Surely more detail than that. If you really are our friend, we will need you to open up to us, if it is true and we are to feel you love us.”

“Shut up, whore!” OH SHIT! Taking a sip of my wine after Marial yelled at her. In reality I’m trying not to laugh because holy shit that’s funny!

“She cannot…”

“Apologize!” Her and Catherine exchanged a look as I was ready. C’mon Catherine! Use that mean bone!

“I will see her later. Go back to your quarters, Marial.”

“NEEEEEIGH!” Catherine stood up to slap the living shit out of her to the point she almost fell down on the ground. Everyone gasped as I was sipping my wine trying not to laugh at these dumbasses.

“Do not ever do that! That goes for all of you. Am I heard?” The ladies in the circle slightly nodded as my eyes were directly on Svenska. I know the ass face was responsible for this mess and I’ll be dealing with it even after this. Oh did you think I forgot about the whole tea dance? Far from it.

“I have spoken to my husband on this, and he sees it as a sleight on him. If it is heard again, no matter what family, what wealth, they will be a servant stripped of everything and we will slap the shit out of them on a daily basis! Am I heard?” And that is how you do it!

“Marial, wipe the blood from your nose. Pour me wine.” Catherine sat down as Marial began to pour her wine.

“Now, other things you ladies need from me? Lady Svenska, can I help you in any way?”

“No Empress. I am satisfied.”

“Mmm. Marvelous. Good day then.” Catherine got up from her seat as I stayed exactly where I was for a few minutes. I’m waiting to see if ass face will say something smart right after Catherine has left.

“What are you waiting for exactly?” Svenska commented as my focus went directly to her.

“Oh just..watching..and waiting.” Svenska turned back towards Tatyana as I noticed George was staring directly at me. What could she possibly want?

“I think we need to talk.”

“Need or want? I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Her eyebrow was raised at me as I put my drink down.

“And I find it hard to believe that you’re a good woman of any sort. If you want to talk then talk. You have the floor and are ready to tell me all about how you’re the victim and everything you do is for status. Truthfully you enjoy every moment of it that you go out of your own way to spend all your time with him.”

I waited for a few moments for her to say something back against my statement but what does she have against me? Being a whore? She’s already got that covered in her department so what would that even do against me?

“The Emperor is about to announce the new patriarch to the court.” A servant told us as I got up from my chair to then walk away. Stupid woman.

We walked into a large sitting room as the new patriarch was wearing his garments as Peter was standing on top of the love seat. I stood next to Leo as I noticed Grigor was coming to stand next to me.

“The new Patriarch! Huzzah!”

“Huzzah!”

“Oh! To the Empress! She is finding her feet here, and her fists.” Took her a minute but we managed to get it out of her.

“Apparently she fucked a horse before she got here!” Damn it….

“For I am all for fucking and after Archie blesses us we will all begin!”

“Huzzah!” Glad to know that after everyone is blessed that they’re basically saying yeah God take it back. Didn’t need it in the first place.

“Can we talk?” Grigor whispered for me to raise my eyebrow.

“You and your wife truly love to talk don’t you?” Not looking directly at him as I kept my head straight forward.

“Please Chiara. I really….” Maybe he is sorry. I feel like this is becoming a usual song and dance for us these past few weeks. Nodding for the two of us to turn around and walk out of the room.

We started down the hallway keeping absolutely silent towards each other. Who exactly was going to start this conversation? Not me because at this moment I have nothing to say on the matter besides saying sorry for being a little over dramatic, and that’s it. He stopped walking to move in front of the fireplace to warm himself up a little. Turning towards me to let out a large sigh.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry that I accused you of sleeping with Peter because of my own personal problems. It wasn’t right and I truly feel horrible for saying that…” I could tell that he wanted to say much more but was working on it. My hands were behind my back as I waited for him to finish his statement.

“Grigor it’s not a..

“Chiara I’ve fallen for you.” He interrupted me as I was confused by what he just said. What?

“I have fallen for you Duchess Chiara.” It sent shivers down my spine. What why? We’ve only known each other for a few weeks and now he’s fallen. Oh no...no no no.

“I am not the romantic type Grigor. I am not like my cousin who will bring you a twig to show love and unity. I..I don’t care for it.” Truth be told I’ve been avoiding the whole love marriage life ever since I was born. If I marry then I lose everything. The power will go to my husband and I am left to be nothing but a baby making device for my husband.

Yet...this feels different. I feel as if I should be comforting Grigor to hold one another. If I could keep him as a lover for eternity I might be okay with this idea. But marriage is something that I plan on never happening in my life.

“I don’t expect you to have fallen because why would you have fallen for a piece of shit like myself. You’re right about me..I’m nothing but a weakling who can’t even stand up against the moron himself..” He fell to his knees as he was beginning to have some sort of attack on the floor in front of me. Quickly approaching him as I got down on my knees.

“Grigor take a breath.” Rubbing his back as he was trying to catch his breath.

“My mind is beginning to chip away right before my eyes Chiara..” Oh no..no no. Holding him close to me as I kissed the top of his forehead. Okay so me swearing off love may just be a phase like mother said! Or is this just me feeling bad. I’ll figure that out later!

“This..this is just a rocky path in the road of life. We all go through it and eventually it becomes better. Just have to go through the rough path in order to see that beautiful green field on the other...this isn’t helping is it.” He shook his head as I thought I heard a door opening.

“A weakling… I’m such a weakling..” I’d rather the court not see Grigor falling apart in front of their eyes. Laughing was echoing from the hall as I had to get him out of here.

“Let’s go somewhere else.” Telling him as I lifted him up from the ground. We were stumbling around a little as we quickly walked through the palace till we made it to the apartments. No this isn’t meant for me to tackle him and have rough sex. Rather..rather not let the court see him breaking down when he’s the most important members of Peters court.

Opening the door to my apartment as he walked in then slamming the doors shut. Locking it as he fell onto the love seat. His breathing did calm down a little bit yet he was still in some sort of a panic state. Water.

“God how am I a man? Any man would’ve killed the other man for sleeping with his wife..you 're right..” Okay now I’m feeling horrible. I poured him a glass of water to then sit on my knees next to Grigor.

“Drink some water.” He sat up to take the glass from my hand.

“How could anyone love me...I’m such a coward. I can’t even fuck my wife...she has to go to someone else in order to fill that void...that desire that I can not fufill.” Well that’s utter bullshit because being railed by him was marvelous.

“Stop that! There is no need to bring down yourself because of your wife being a total whore. Grigor I’m sorry...I’m sorry for being such a cunt towards you. We both come from completely different worlds and I have to remember sometimes that this isn’t home..You’re not a weakling or a coward. This is just a difficult situation that probably doesn’t help that I’ve been acting so horrid towards you..” His glass was empty as I took it from him to place it down on the ground. My hands cupped his cheeks as he held onto them, he closed his eyes to put his forehead against mine.

“May I stay here for the night?” Grigor asked for me to nod.

“I can’t spend another night alone. Not another night…” Sitting up to then wrap my arms around him. He picked me up to then pull me into his lap which made me giggle a little. It’s kind of fun just being hoisted up into someone's lap.

“I don’t plan on making love with you tonight Chiara.” Oh really? This is rather shocking because I figured he would’ve found a way to seduce me into the bed.

“And why is that? Got tired of me already? We’re those three days….or five..still a little blurry with the amount of wine and food

“Never. You are the only good thing that has come from my dreadful existence here.” Somehow I think he’s right.

“I’m really wanting a glass of vodka. Care for some?” Asking as he was rubbing his eyes.

“Please.” Climbing off to walk over on my refilled liquor shelf. Two of my biggest glasses filled with vodka as I imagine it’s like water to him at this point. Just like how wine is like water, just drink it like water. Sitting back down on his lap to give him the glass, clinking out glasses as we both chugged down the vodka. HOLY SHIT THIS BURNS GOING DOWN STILL HOLY CRAP!

“Still getting used to it aren’t you?” He began to laugh as I shook my head then blinked a few times.

“Indeed. But it acts fast and my fingers are already feeling wonderful. How about another?” I’m just going to grab the glass bottle so I can stay comfortable on his lap. Skipping to the bottle as I pulled the cork off and placed it on the table.

“If you would’ve told me when we first met that I would be letting you sit on my lap after our first introduction. I would’ve thought they were mad.” Good times from a few weeks ago when I had a large stick up my ass. Sitting back down to take a swing from the bottle then hand it to him.

“Or me having some sort of relationship with you after I almost beat you with my sabre. How the world changes before our own eyes.” We both nodded to continue passing the glass bottle back and forth to one another.

I could feel it coursing through my veins like water rushing down a river after a rainstorm. It feels incredible! Vodka is truly a wondrous type of alcohol that loves to scorch my throat. Oof. As much as I would love to sit on his lap for a long time, my bed looks absolutely enticing for us to crawl in. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind crawling into bed.

“Would you mind if we got into bed? Your lap is comfortable but my bed just feels so much better. Please Grigor?” Without questioning it. He sat up as my legs wrapped around his back for us to start heading towards the bed. As much as I love not being pounded into oblivion in this position..this is fun! Wait for the corset. I can not get into my sleep mindset if I’m stuck wearing this cage.

He put me down on the bed as I sat on my knees to then begin taking off my corset. Crap Fernanda really tied the bow up high to the point I can’t reach it. His fingers began messing with the string as I felt the air entering my body once again. Tossing it across the room to untuck my shirt from my pants.

“Thank you.” Turning to face him as we leaned in to kiss one another. Softly kissing one another as he placed his hand on my cheek.

“Picnic with me tomorrow. There’s a beautiful tree that the leaves just dance with the wind that is just beautiful.” Yes. I said that I wanted to get some sort of fresh air and the timing could not be more perfect!

“It’s only been one day since I’ve been away from your bed, and I’ve missed the way it feels. Warm..comforting, can be a bit rough but eventually I become in a state of relaxation.” Grigor became comfortable down on the bed as I joined him on top of the covers. He placed his hand on my cheek as I kissed his hand.

“I know you don’t love me or have fallen for me...but thank you.” He drifted to sleep as I began to scoot closer to him. He must’ve felt me move because I was pulled closer to him and tucked into his chest.

This is nice.

Very nice.

taglist!

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writing-mermaid · 4 years

Text

Siren, part 3 : Roundtable Rival

Summary : Y/N is a mutant, a Siren, the last of her kind, with deadly dangerous powers and a hidden past. If most of the Avengers likes and get along with her, Steve doesn’t, and it’s getting worse when Y/N and Bucky become close. After all what can bring two broken souls together if it’s not a dark past.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings : Language, mention of injuries, Steve is an asshole.

Word Count : 2 455

Square Filled : @star-spangled-bingo : "He’s my friend”

@buckybarnesbingo : B5 - Language

Author’s note : I have this story on my WIPs for a little time. I hope that you’ll like it. This story is also my entry for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan ‘s Little Darlin’s Mystery AU Challenge, the prompt I chose is Siren AU. Don’t forget that feedback is appreciated and really important.

Song of the title : Roundtable Rival - Lindsey Stirling

Masterlist

Star Spangled Bingo masterlist

Bucky Barnes Bingo masterlist

Siren masterlist

Buy me a ☕

Half-way to the compound, Bucky is still sleeping. I just hope that I didn’t poison him. Steve already hates me, he’s going to be mad when he’ll Bucky asleep on the ramp.

“FRIDAY”, I ask the AI who is also connected the Quintets.

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N ?”, she questions.

“Can you please let Tony know that we will need Doctor Cho when I land back at the compound ?”

“Of course, Miss Y/L/N. Who is in need of medical assistance, you or Sergeant Barnes ?”

“Both of us”, I respond, looking at my bleeding left palm, despite the bandage I put around to stop the blood. I will definitely need stitches. My right wrist hurt too, and I probably have some scratches on my face. I hope it’s not broken.

I feel tired and I’m relieved when I finally catch sight of the compound. It takes me a few more minutes to finally land in the basement. The Quinjet ramp opens to Doctor Cho, the medic team, the rest of the Avengers and of course, Fury.

“What happened ?”, Steve asks angrily when he sees Bucky laying on the floor. “He better be still alive”, he adds, glaring at me, while checking for his best friend’s pulse.

“Of course, he’s alive”, I bite back. “I just had to put him to sleep.”

The medic team rushes in the Quinjet, with a stretcher for Bucky. They lift him on it to take him to the med quarters, Steve on their heels.

“What about you, Y/N ?”, Helen Cho asks me. “Are you alright ?”

“Maybe a few bruises, but I will need some stitches on my left hand, and I twisted my right wrist. I’m sore and tired, after all, I had to drag him from HYDRA’s warehouse to the jet”, I point to the direction where the rest of the med team took Bucky.

“I’ll check your wrist after I stitch you hand”, she says, looking at my left palm, “It’s a little dirty”, she adds, “you might have some debris in it too. Let’s go.”

“Wait a minute”, Steve states, putting himself between me and the pathway to the infirmary. “I want to know what happened first.”

“Let go of her Rogers, you can see she needs medical care”, Tony steps in. “She will tell you everything you want to know tomorrow morning.”

“No, I want to know what happened and I want to know it right now”, he nearly shout.

“With all my respect Captain, my patient here needs treatments. You can ask her what happened when she’s patch-up and had some rest, not before”, Helen glares at him. “Come on Y/N”, she says to me, before taking me to the med quarters.

“You saved me from his wrath”, I murmur to her, when we’re past Steve and the rest of the Avengers.

After Helen stitched my hand and checked my wrist, which is not broken and put in a splint, she settles me on a bed next to Bucky, who’s still sleeping.

“How is he ?”, I ask her.

“Fine”, she answers. “I don’t know what happened there, but you did what you had to do”, she adds, looking at me in the eyes.

“I hope so”, I say.

“I’ll let you rest now, you need it. There is a glass of water and paracetamol on the night table in case it hurts too much”, she explains before turning off the lights and going out of the room.

I might have fallen asleep because my eyes shoot themselves open sometimes later, when I hear a growl in the bed next to mine.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty, happy to see you awake and alive”, I say, raising from my own bed and approaching him.

“How are you doing ?”, he asks me, trying to sit up.

“I’m the one who should ask this to you”, I answer handing him a glass of water, “I sort off had to knock you off.”

“What happened ?”, he questions, drinking a mouthful of the plastic glass, “because to be honest, I absolutely have no clue about why I’m here and why I have been unconscious.”

“You really want to know ?”

“Please Y/N, I need to know if I’ve done something wrong or not.”

“Ok then. When we entered HYDRA’s facility, there were a lot of casks with a sort of gas inside of it, two HYDRA’S handymen came in with one and apparently, the plug was unplugged, diffusing some gas. I think that, because of the way you behaved with me, saying I was intoxicating and starting to touch and kiss me the way you did, and as I didn’t smell anything, I think that this could be something made out of Siren blood. It did exactly the same thing that my powers do when I don’t take my pills. You acted as if I haven’t taken my medicine. And just by breathing a very tiny quantity of that gas. I had to use one of my powers on you, and I kissed you to put you to sleep and I didn’t have the choice because, if I didn’t only god knows what would have happen.”

“You kissed me ?”, he looks at me, eyes wide open.

“Just to save my skin, Barnes, not for pleasure”, I say, trying not to blush, thinking about what Nat told me just before I left for the mission. “Anyway, Steve was pretty mad when I walked out of the Quinjet, he might have thought I killed you. That man really hates me…”, I add sighing.

At the same moment, Doctor Cho enters the room, alongside Steve, who looks at me with a furious gaze.

“Y/N”, she says, looking at me. “Glad to see you’re awake, and seem better, you can leave and sleep in your room”, she smiles at me.

“Thanks Helen”, I say to her, “just on time for my pill. Have a nice night.”

“You too”, she replies. “And you Sergeant Barnes…”, she starts.

“Y/N”, Bucky cuts her.

“Yes ?”, I turn toward him.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, James”, I tell him. “Goodnight”, I add, crossing the threshold.

“Goodnight”, he whispers, and I can barely ear him, his voice almost covered by Steve’s who’s asking him how he is.

When I finally reach my bedroom, I collapse on my bed, empty of all my energy, and fall asleep again.

“Miss Y/L/N. Miss Y/L/N”, FRIDAY wakes me up.

“Hum”, I groan, “not now, let me sleep more.”

“Miss Y/L/N, your presence is required by Captain Rogers. He organized a debriefing about the mission you and Sergeant Barnes fulfilled yesterday. The meeting starts in 45 minutes.”

“What ?! 45 minutes”, I exclaim, raising from the bed, still dressed in my battle gear, in need of a hot shower and my stomach growling.

I grab my pill box on my nightstand and take one before heading to the bathroom. The hot water relaxes my tense muscles and all the dirt from the mission goes in the siphon. Once clean, I take a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt in my wardrobe and put a pair of Vans on my feet, put back the splint on my wrist. My hair still wet, I go the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat before facing Steve Rogers’ wrath. I can’t help but think that Steve will hold me responsible for what happened in HYDRA’s facility.

“Hi Y/N”, Wanda greets me when I enter the kitchen.

“Hi”, I answer back, opening the fridge, finding a bottle of watermelon juice.

“Rumor has it that you kissed Barnes”, Natasha says, also entering the kitchen, grabbing a banana in the fruit ball, and peeling it. “I knew you wanted to do it at some point”, she adds, biting in her yellow fruit.

“Haha, really funny Nat”, I tell her. “You know that I would never use my powers, and especially that one on anyone, and certainly not on one of my teammates.”

“I’m just kidding Y/N”, she puts her hand on my shoulder. “You obviously had a good reason to put Bucky to sleep, and we all know it.”

“All, except Steve”, I point. “He hates me. He might think I did that on purpose.”

“Avengers, assemble”, Tony says, passing his head through the door. “Captain’s orders, and he doesn’t seem very pleased, so you better be on time”, he adds, before walking away.

I sigh, putting down the empty glass, but keeping the bottle of watermelon juice in my hand, going to the door.

“What ?”, I ask Natasha, who rises one of her perfect eyebrows at me.

“Nothing, I think he’s already really pissed at you, he’ll be more to see you with juice.”

I shrug my shoulder and walk to the briefing room. Steve is near the overhead projector, arms crossed on his chest, speaking with Tony. Clint and Scott are laughing at I don’t know what and I can spot Bucky, on his chair, a half smile on his lips. He pats the chair next to his. As I don’t move, Natasha pushes me from behind, whispering a “go” into my ear.

“Hey”, I say, sitting down next to the long-haired soldier, putting my bottle of juice on the table in front of me. “How are you doing ?”

“Fine, thanks”, he answers. “You ?”

“I’m okay, a little tired but I think that with a few days off, I’ll feel better.”

“Good”, he says.

“Good”, I repeat awkwardly.

A few minutes later, Nick Fury enters the room, looking at all of us with his unique eye. Silence falls at the second he walks to the front of the room, next to Steve. Tony moves at the other side, taking place next to Bruce.

“So, I heard about what happened to Y/L/N and Barnes yesterday and I need some explanations.”

“I’d like to have some too”, Steve adds, looking at me aggressively. “I’d like to know what really happened there, as someone prevented me to question the Bucky and Y/N”, he says, and I know that he’s talking about Helen.

“So, who starts ?”, Tony asks.

“You probably remember more than I do”, Bucky looks at me.

“Ok”, I sigh. “When we land, we knocked out the first HYDRA henchmen we saw, we managed to go inside the warehouse. There were a lot of barrels some with colored gas, other with liquid. We heard a bang, so we hide, and two men were carrying a transparent keg containing the colored gas we saw before, one of them dropped it, and some of the gas escaped.”

I stop, in order to breathe and drink some of my juice.

“And then what happened ?”, Steve asks, impatient.

“Give the girl a minute”, Tony says, and I mouth a silent thank you to him.

“We were ready to leave our hiding place and stepped back into the warehouse when I felt Barnes’ lips on my nape and he tried to… to seduce me. Thinking quickly, I realized that that gas worked as one of my powers, my attraction one. As I couldn’t get rid of him, I kissed him to put him to sleep. I had no choice because only God knows what would have happen. When I was sure he was asleep, I just put the dynamite all around the warehouse and I pulled Bucky outside, before heading back to the Quinjet with his sleeping body and the dynamite exploded before I reached the jet, and I must have put a too big charge. I got injured and for the rest you know what happened.”

“So, you’re saying that you used your powers on one of your teammates”, Steve says, angrily.

“I had to”, I respond, getting up on my feet. “What you have happen if I didn’t ? We would have been captured or maybe worse, killed.”

“Don’t tell me what could have happen Y/N, you don’t know what would have happen.”

“I was there Rogers, you weren’t.”

“Please you two, stop”, Natasha rises from her chair. “You perfectly know it Steve that if Y/N used her powers, there was a good reason, she would never put in danger any members of the team. Plus, Barnes is a big guy, and you’re not his mother, so stop acting like a freaking mother hen around him.”

“He’s my friend”, Steve roars, turning back to me, “and you’re just…”

“I’m just what ?”, I bite back. “Another Avenger ? You’re just a fucking twat Steve, do you know that ?”

“You’re a fucking danger Y/N.”

“Language please”, Tony sighs from his spot.

“Enough”, Fury states, and I realize that I’ve never seen that man getting angry at anyone. “For now, I’m suspending Y/L/N and Barnes from missions for a few times, until I read their rapports and decide what to do. We’re finished here.”

“Tony, may I take the rest of my day if I’m not needed here, I have something to do”, I ask him, “and borrow one of the cars.”

“Yes, of course sweetheart, you can.”

“Thank you.”

“What ?”, Steve ask, eyes wide open as I defy his authority. “Tony’s not the one you should ask.”

“I ask who I want to and as Fury said, we’re finished here. You’ll have my rapport tomorrow morning”, I grab my bottle of juice and pass the doorstep.

“Well done Steve”, I can hear Bucky’s sigh when I lean against the nearest wall trying not to cry. “The poor girl is already feeling guilty of using her powers on me and you add to her guilt.”

I can’t hear Steve’s answer as I rather leave before Steve tells Bucky what he really thinks about me. I go back to my room to change into a simple blue dress and a pair of black ballet flat, before going to the garage and take one of Tony’s cars, a simple black city car one of the less flashy. After half an hour of driving, I finally reach New York and the Queens, not far from Rockaway Beach, where I spent a lot of time during my childhood. I park in front of a white building.

“Hello, miss Y/L/N”, the hostess greets me when I pass the door.

“Hello”, I smile at her. “How is he today ?”

“Fine, pretty calm”, she says. “Seems that you had a rough time”, she add, pointing at one of the bruises on my face.

“Yes, but don’t worry, nothing I can’t handle. May I go ?”

“Of course”, she smiles.

I climb the steps to the room, to find a familiar figure, back to the door, looking through the window.

“Hi, dad”, I quietly say, kissing his scrubby cheek.

Taglist :

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misssophiachase · 4 years

Text

For @klaroline-events KC Bingo - “Flower Shop” On FF and AO3

Who says the customer is always right?

You Don’t Bring Me Flowers

“She told me I never give her flowers,” he huffed. “How was I supposed to know that was a thing?”

“Who would have thought that giving someone flowers was a thing,” she shot back wryly. “You’re really asking the owner of this type of establishment that question?”

“You know what I mean,” he insisted. “I can’t do anything right hence my impromptu trip to what is, I’m sure, a very fine establishment.”

“Well, you’re here, so that’s a start,” she murmured. “And as much as I’d love to discuss the merits of giving flowers versus not giving them, it’s sort of busy in here right now so...”

“Oh of course, my apologies,” he replied, shelling over a wad of notes for his purchase.

“How about a card?”

“Why do I need a card? It’s not like she won’t know who they’re from, right?”

Caroline had to resist the urge not to roll her eyes at a customer. If this guy was her boyfriend she’d have dumped him by now. Who was she kidding? She never would have gone out with him in the first place.

Yes, maybe he was kind of attractive with those untamed, blonde locks, short stubble that demanded to be touched and lips the colour of her favourite primrose. But he clearly had no idea about how to be a decent human being.

Call her traditional but Caroline loved flowers and the generous act of giving them, hence why she started her own business five years earlier.

Wild at Heart wasn’t big compared to some shops but what it lacked in size it made up for in its artistic bouquets as well as its warm ambience from the freshly baked, pumpkin scones in the adjoining cafe to her friendly staff. Well, except when Katherine was in a bad mood or hung over.

“A card is an accompaniment to the flowers and allows you to properly convey your message.”

“There’s definitely a message I’d like to convey but not sure it is very card friendly, if you know what I mean?”

Caroline was incredibly curious at his response and had to bite her tongue from responding. The obvious question being why he was buying flowers in the first place? But she could see the long line up of impatient customers behind him and knew they wouldn’t appreciate her views on the matter.

“If that’s the case, I think it’s best we just stick with the flowers.”

Caroline wondered about his choice of flowers too. Most men, who had no idea about flowers, went straight for the roses. Beautiful, yes, but they were a safe option. Mister Sunshine, however, had chosen the namesake at the heart of her shop.

It was a combination of wildflowers. A mixture of Lavender, Daisies, Forget Me Nots and Queen Anne’s Lace to name a few. Although they were her absolute favourites, it was usually the last bouquet to sell in a day. Given it was only 9:09 am this was a first.

“No, I think you might have a point. So, what do you suggest I write?” She could hear the impatient groans from the people behind.

“Look, here’s a card that says To and From,” she gestured to the plainest gift tag they had in the shop. One she only really kept on hand for situations like this. “All you need to do is insert names, easy right? Then you won’t feel the need to share opinions which might negate the positive act of giving flowers in the first place.”

A slight smile tugged at the edges of his mouth and Caroline was struggling not to reciprocate but then she remembered he was an ass.

Before he could reply, she pushed that and the flowers towards him trying to ignore the way those crimson lips curved into a knowing smile followed by a flash of not just one dimple but two.

“Next, please?”

27 hours later

Klaus had been standing outside the shop for a good fifteen minutes. He was debating whether or not to go inside.

He looked down at the flowers he’d purchased yesterday, surprisingly still in relatively good condition given the way she’d thrown them at him.

That would teach him to buy her flowers.

Most people would take the rejection and either re-gift the flowers or throw them in the trash, Klaus, however, thought they were too beautiful for that and decided recycling was probably the best course of action.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the beautiful, sarcastic blonde who’d sold them to him. Well, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“Let me guess, you couldn’t help yourself and gave her the non card friendly version?”

He turned slightly to his left, noticing the familiar blonde watering the flower pots outside the shop. He thought she looked stunning yesterday in a blue sweater, the colour of which he’d committed to memory, but today her jeans and white t-shirt combination was distracting him even more so.

“Excuse me?”

“I couldn’t help but notice that my flowers are firmly grasped in your hand,” she noted. “If you’re looking for a refund I’m afraid...”

“Uh, no, of course not,” he stumbled. “I actually thought you might like them back.”

“I’m assuming they didn’t go down too well with...”

“Rebekah.”

“I’d apologise but given the way you were speaking yesterday I don’t really blame her for thinking you’re probably a bit of an ass.”

“Oh really? Is this how you usually talk to your customers, love?”

“Well, you’ve already paid for the flowers so I figure I’m safe.”

“You think you know me?”

“I know your type.”

“Wow, I’m a type,” he replied. “Please, tell me all about it.”

“You did something wrong and you think buying this Rebekah flowers is going to fix everything. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work like that.”

“What do you think I did?” Klaus was beginning to get a complex and had no idea that a stranger, albeit a beautiful one, could make him feel so guilty.

“Something bad if you’ve still got those flowers,” she murmured, her blue eyes gazing into his intently. “Maybe Rebekah wants more than flowers, did you ever think of that?”

“How about you?”

“How about me what?”

“If I gave you these flowers, would you like them?”

“I think that’s beside the point and extremely insensitive to poor Rebekah,” she scoffed. “I think I’m starting to realise her issues with you now.”

“Rebekah is my sister.”

“Yeah sure and that guy over there is my husband.” Klaus felt his chest constrict, not realising just how disappointed he was to hear that.

When he’d made the trip, Klaus was secretly hoping she’d agree to go out with him. He knew he hadn’t made the best first impression but he truly felt like there was something between them.

“I’m sorry to hear that, love,” he murmured.

“Hang on, Rebekah really is your sister?”

“Unfortunately and you’re married, so it’s probably best I take my flowers and go.”

“What exactly did you do to your sister, you know besides not giving her flowers enough?”

“Her husband is in the Army and currently stationed in The Middle East. She’s heavily pregnant and incredibly moody and apparently I haven’t lavished enough attention on her. In my defence, she’s been like this since we were children but she’s one hundred times worse now.”

“Well, that I wasn’t expecting.”

“I’ve taken her to every doctor’s appointment even though she complained about my supposed lack of driving skills and I’ve made plenty of late night trips to the store to buy the most disgusting combinations of foods to fulfil her voracious appetite. Then I thought flowers might help but apparently they weren’t to her taste.”

“Wow, you’ve been needing to get that off your chest for a while, huh?”

“You have no idea. I love her but she drives me crazy,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry to download on you, I should really let you get back to work.”

“I’m curious, why did you pick those flowers?” He looked down at them noting the diverse array of colours and shapes. He’d found himself immediately drawn to them in the shop but not exactly sure why at the time.

“My sister, as it turns out, wanted roses, hence the tantrum. I suppose I thought these were understated, but at the same time wild and unexpected in a really beautiful way.”

“They grow not far from here actually,” she shared. “I usually go out and pick them a couple of times a week if you wanted to come with me?”

Was she asking him out? Klaus couldn’t believe it, his initial disappointment a distant memory.

“Your husband won’t mind?” She gave him a wicked smile, a slight blush crossing her creamy cheeks.

“I won’t tell him if you don’t tell Rebekah,” she teased.

When they married three years later, the bridal party carried wildflowers Caroline had picked herself. Rebekah’s daughter Florence was the flower girl and Klaus promised in his vows to always write a card to accompany his flowers even if she knew they were from him.

#kcbingo2020 #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline #my writing #you don't bring me flowers #flower shop #this was fun

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beyoncesdragon · 4 years

Text

title: tongue tip trip

➳ pairing: harry styles x reader, best friends to lovers trope but a bit different.

➳ summary: Harry eats edibles and you come to the rescue...despite almost four months of no talking and zero communication.

➳ warnings: Harry eats edibles, swearing and some fluff, it’s also fan fiction so its ✨unrealistic✨ okay, also its 1AM I wanna sleep

➳ a/n: I love this one tbh. but please don’t do drugs children

Jeff hardly ever called you. Even when Harry and you had still be close, him calling you was a rarity. But when he then did, you couldn't help but feel a bit worried at the sign of his user ID flashing up on your phone. This time was no exception, but besides worry there was also surprise and a whole bunch of uncomfortable memories and unsaid words. You hadn't heard from him (or Harry) in weeks. Sure, Jeff and you still sometimes texted a bit, you also were still in good contact with Claire and especially Mitch and you still got along. Harry and you...well, that was a different and longer story.

Harry and you used to be very close friends. Means, helping him what socks to choose before performing-close friends. You had met a year in Harry going solo, you a simple assistant engineer and him the highly praised Popstar. The two of you had quickly bonded over a few glasses of chilled white wine in the humid air of Jamaica and soon your friendship blossomed in the most beautiful ways. Well it did until you, obviously, started to feel a bit more for the singer. Now, that alone wasn't a problem itself, the fact that Harry knew (you had told him after a few weeks of awkward suffering) wasn't either. The problem was that Harry acted like a dick to anyone you brought around, up to the point where you seemingly couldn't ever date again. Of course Harry wasn't a straight up asshole to them, he still had a reputation to maintain, but he knew how to get under their skin. Just toying with their self-confidence and subtly making them feel like the biggest losers. Oh and, the absolute worst part, all whilst having a girlfriend himself. Which eliminated the possibility of him having feeling for you as a reason why he acted like a jerk. And that angered you more and more and it all escalated in a big, nasty and hurtful fight, around four - five months ago. Since then you hadn't talked, texted or seen each other.

It had been a big change of habit not to get up and first check the phone for messages of him, or simply FaceTime him to check up on his schedule. No spending time at cafes or at the studios with him and the rest of the team. Lucky thing you had other jobs running, on other albums and in other studios around Malibu than his.

He was currently recording music at the Shangri-La studios in Malibu, maybe ten minutes from your flat by car. Which had been described as a "lucky and obviously unplanned extra" by Harry himself, followed by a cheeky grin. You had just rolled your eyes, but secretly happy that he had cared about you being near during his writing process. But now it only left a sour aftertaste in your mouth.

With a sigh you pulled the key out of the ignition and picked up the phone. You figured you could also wait in the parking lot for a few more minutes.

"Hello?"

"Sweetheart? Jeff's here..." you hummed softly, leaning back.

"Hello there Jeff. Everything alright?" you could hear him cough slightly, before he answered with a weird lilt to his tone. He sounded somewhat stressed out. "Yeah, everything's fine...how have you been?" you shrugged lightly, inspecting your nails.

"Fine. Working and stuff. I guess same for you?" he was quick to agree, again with that weird cough.

"Everything okay Jeff? Something happened?" you finally asked, tired of his obvious tip toeing around the real issue. He knew that you weren't so stupid to believe that Jeff had just called you to check up on you at five in the afternoon.

"Well not...quite. I - uh...it's because of Harry. Now, listen, I know the two of you did not part in like, the best ways but..." you couldn't help but close your eyes with a slight wince, "...but you've got to believe me, it's an emergency, kinda." You just sighed.

"Kinda?" he hummed, saying nothing for a few seconds. "Do I need to talk to him?" you asked into the silence. Jeff was quick to say no however. "Uh...rather not, actually." You blinked surprised.

"Rather not? Is he drunk?" not that this would be a first, Harry being drunk caller by nature. If he was lucky he then would find himself calling someone like Paul, his old bodyguard, few months ago maybe you, just not one of his exes or someone else you probably shouldn't call anyways – especially not drunk. But this time it didn't seemed to be like that, since Jeff answered hesitantly. "Not exactly, no." your frown deepened at his words, feeling slight annoyance creeping up. "Jeffrey! What's the matter? Is he hurt? In an accident? Called his ex? Called Zayn? What is it? Just tell me already!"

Jeff sighed deeply. "He's high." A relieved huff left your lips. That wasn't half as bad, wasn't it? "That's it? Little weed hurts no body, besides I would've been more concerned if he would've drank. Besides, he almost never does weed..." Jeff interrupted you quickly. "Not exactly weed sweetheart. You remember the uh, edibles I told you about, the ones we stored in the fridge..." A deep groan escaped your lips.

"Are you kidding me?" you groaned, shaking your head. "Well no. However, he accidentally bit of his tongue tip, few minutes ago." Your hand dropped from the steering wheel and smashed down and you accidentally honked, immediately getting confused and outraged looks from the cars passing by.

"He did WHAT?" you meant to hear a smile in Jeff's voice, underneath all the layers of just mild concern. "Yeah's a little unfortunate." you just huffed. A little unfortunate, if that's what they decided to call it, then fine. Nonetheless, Harry should probably visit a doctor. "Can he still sing?" you asked, somewhat defeated. The noise behind Jeff increased, you assumed that he was entering the studio again. "Hold on a sec...can you hear him?" And oh how you could hear him.

He was singing, no yelling on top of his voice, trying to outmatch the speakers that were thumping Paul McCartney's "Too Many People", though unmistakably mumbling a little. Just the sound of his voice made your heart clench in pain a little.

"Yeah I can." You mumbled, wishing for Jeff to talk over Harry's voice again. "So his career isn't in danger right? Means I can just..." Jeff sighed deeply, pleadingly.

"Y/N, please...he needs medical care." You pouted displeased, spinning the car keys in your fingers. "And you cant drive him because...?" this time he definitely laughed. "What do you think? Harry being the only one on drugs?" you shrugged. "You don't sound like you would bite your tongue off..." he just huffed. "That's because I only had a glass of white wine, but never drink and drive..." you let out a loud laugh, starting your car. "Oh sure! And don't mix drugs with alcohol, right?" he chuckled softly. "Course not. We're that responsible, you know." you just hummed unconvinced, sighing again.

"Okay fine. I'll pick him up." Jeff released a long breath before thanking you warmly. "Thank you so much, angel...how long will you take, you think?" your eyes darted from the rear-view mirror to the road behind the parking lot, before you shifted the reverse gear again to leave the parking.

"About 10 minutes? Maybe?" you guessed, eyeing the traffic suspiciously. It wasn't rush-hour just yet, but there were still plenty of cars on the road. "Okay...oh hi Harry." You immediately tensed up, swallowing hard when you heard Harrys deep voice again.

"Who y'takin to?" Harry spoke as if he had a full mouth, trying not spit out its content. "Oh just...Y/N." Jeff answered truthfully. Harry then said something you couldn't quite understand before Jeff ushered him to go away again with the words; "She'll come in a few minutes anyways." It made you swallow heavily; had Harry asked to talk to you? You stopped the thoughts and focused on the road again. "I'll see you in five." And with that you hung up.

❦

Harry and Jeff were already waiting in front of the studio when you pulled up, Harry having a bloody cloth pressed to his mouth. They looked like father and son, right off the principal's office for starting a fight on campus. It almost made you laugh. Then your eyes met and the amusement left your body as quickly as it came. You were not ready to face him again, even after all those months.

"Thank you so much Y/N, I owe you...you good H?" Jeff asked as he opened the passenger door. "Yeh, m'fine, fanks." Harry mumbled, eyes darting up to meet yours, just to look away immediately. "We'll be back soon." You sighed, not yet ready to properly greet Harry. Or look at him, for starters. To be fair, he wasn't doing any better. "Sure. I hope he doesn't bleed on your seats." Jeff joked, well aware of the weird tension. You just shrugged, waving him goodbye. "See you in a few Jeff." Or not, but you didn't know that yet.

The ride was almost completely silent expect for the time where you asked if he was okay and he mumbled a "yeh". The radio was filling the silence and you were glad for it. The songs weren't that good at the moment, you just wanted something to be loud and talking, even if it was just the obnoxious radio host who kept cutting off the songs. That was until "Change" by RM and Wale started to play and you perked up immediately. A happy smile crept on your face as you recognised the tune. You yourself had helped with the song and you proudly acknowledged the credit they gave you. You hadn't expected it to be played over here in America, but you were happy it was. Harry had obviously noticed your change of behaviour and carefully peaked over.

"Y'know tha'shong?" you nodded, momentarily forgetting that Harry and you hadn't interacted the last ten minutes. "Helped write it. With Namjoon, aka. RM and Wale." Harry nodded slowly. "Ish Namjhoon f'om...?" he tried and you nodded. "BTS? Yeah." He just nodded again. The next second Wale already mentioned BTS in his verse and Harry huffed. "Oh."

"I've sheen - seen the pictures of you n'him." you quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah? Well, he was nice." Harry nodded again, another stolen glance into your direction. "Lishten..." he started but you cut him off. You already knew what he was about to say anyways.

"Let's not have this conversation now Harry. Please. Let's talk when there isn't blood gushing from your mouth." He nodded, but his shoulders relaxed a little bit. After all, he was glad you were up to talk, even if it wasn't just right now, but a bit later on. He had time anyways. He peaked over again, taking in the sight of you. Your hair was now longer than last time and your face somehow sharper – maybe you had lost weight. Also, there was a soft frown etched in between your brows, and there wasn't this soft glow you've always carried in your eyes. Long story short: You looked worn out and stressed, and Harry couldn't really tell if it was because you were sat in the same car as he was, or if it had to do with something else that was going on.

"How're ya?" it slowly got painful to speak, the edible was definitely wearing off now, but Harry still tried. He had missed your voice after all, it didn't matter how cold your tone had become. Just at the mentioning of that Namjoon you had sounded more like the Y/N he knew.

"I've been okay. Had lots of work...different countries and continents. S'been a busy few months." You felt unsure as how to talk to him, of you were fully honest. Should you say that you had absolutely hated working in Malibu since the fight? Should you say that you hadn't slept properly because you hated having fights with friends? Especially close friends? He probably knew anyways. Harry always knew somehow.

"I wont ask you about yourself until your tongue is patched up again, though. So you better shut up Styles." He chuckled softly, and the hint of the old Harry and Y/N relationship seemed to spark up again. The last five or so minutes were spent in silence again, but comfortable this time.

❦

Luckily Harry did not go recognised by anyone else than the Doctor. And the doctor probably only realised fully, because she asked for the name. Harry, still not fully functionable, had then looked over to you, expecting you to do the talking. Which made sense, of course, but truth behold, he had just forgotten his middle and last name. And the address of the place he was staying at (the studios) was completely wiped from his memory. He was lucky you were with him. It also turned out that he had completely bit off a few millimetres of tongue, a clean bite. You had almost gaged at those words and Harry had supressed a grin. It meant that Harry needed no stitches (apparently it was sort of possible to stitch a tongue back together), but daily check-ups and cleaning or cleansing of the mouth was mandatory.

"Check the injurie daily for changes in appearance or feel. Wounds in the mouth that are clean and healthy may appear light pink to white." She had started to almost exclusively talk to you, aware of Harry's partly delirious state, giving you all the information you needed to patch him up a bit. You nodded slowly.

"Alright. Just...how do you cleanse the mouth?" The Doctor gave you a kind smile. "Very easy. Rinse the mouth with a saltwater solution after eating to ease pain and keep the wound clean. That is very important, so the wound doesn't infect. The saltwater solution is just one teaspoon of non-iodized salt mixed in one cup of warm water." You nodded slowly. "One last thing: if the colour of the wound changes, starts bleeding again, swells up or you notice a visible deformity, immediately come back. Also, if the pain intensifies and does not improve within two hours of taking over-the-counter pain medication, such as ibuprofen or acetaminophen, have somebody call us, or better come around. That is all we can do right now."

You were almost happy when you could leave the hospital with him, especially because Harry now grew tired and needy. You weren't sure if the disappearing edible had that effect or if you had just forgotten how clingy Harry could get, but you had troubles getting him to let go of your arm and sit into the car. And your deeply hidden and buried feelings for him slowly made an unwanted comeback, and you were not quite excited for that. You should've known that they would come again, after all, you never really got over him in the first place.

Harry insisted on you staying the night. He blabbed something about risk of getting kidnapped and abused at night alone (not entirely wrong, sadly) and him not letting his friend leave at hours that late and also he apparently needed you if something happened again. He just wouldn't admit that he couldn't let you walk out the door because he feared you wouldn't come back. as if you could just do that after today. But whatever it was, you did stay. In one of the three bedrooms of the Studio you had claimed a bed, and even got some spare clothes for sleep from Claire herself. You had called her, asking for them, as they had all already left.

Just when you thought you were done for the day, teeth brushed and dressed in Claires 1975 shirt size XL, you hear a knock on your door. "Come in?" You knew it was Harry, that wasn't the part that surprised you. the part that surprised you, was that it was Harry with a tray and on that tray were cups and kettle and it smelled like camomile tea and honey. And cookies, with chocolate chips even and some grapes.

"Hi." He just whispered, embarrassment written all over his face. "Hi?" you weren't sure how to react to this but quickly patted on the bed next to you. "Wanna sit down? Or wait, sHit down, as you would say it." He giggled softly, before he nodded and carefully sat down opposite of you, balancing the tray carefully between the two of you.

"I figured it would be better to talk now in peace? If you're up to, f'course." You couldn't help the small smile that crept onto your face. "Shure." You mocked his lisp and he huffed at that, swatting his hand into your direction. "Shtop it really hurt." You just rolled your eyes at him, motioning towards the tray between the two of you. "That's very cute by the way. I love camomile tea with honey." He grinned smugly. "I know." The tea steamed softly when he poured it into the cups, his brows furrowed in concentration to not spill it on the sheets. You watched him with a fond look in your eyes. You hadn't been fully aware of how much you had really missed him in all these months. Right now it felt like the feeling was overwhelming and would crush you out of a sudden.

"Everything a'ight?" Harry's concerned voice ripped you from your thoughts and you blinked quickly. Your eyes had started to water and you looked away embarrassed. "Yeah...guess I just missed you." his eyes immediately went soft, and he set the cups down on the tray.

"I missed ye too." He said, sounding a bit helpless. You cleared your throat, shaking your head quickly.

"Okay so what happened that day; Harry I want to sincerely apologise. What I said went too far." He just smiled softly. "I should've went first. S'my fault after all, let's not beat around the bushes. I am sh-sorry. I shouldn't've said all those things, it was truly horrible. You're not clingy, you don't ever bothered me and also, the men you brought around weren't all dicks. And yes I did ruin it purposely." He couldn't even look at you anymore, shame so obvious in his face and voice and body language. "It's fine...I could've dated anyone anyways that time." You tried softly, swallowing down the "Still can't, believe me, I tried." He just shook his head. "No, really Y/N, that was extremely hurtful and inappropriate and I was the biggest...dick to do all that. I am so sorry. You had all right on earth to walk out like that. and to call me a heartless, self-absorbed douche, I guess I deserved that...that and all the other things you called me." that did make you laugh a bit.

"Arrogant son of a bitch? That one?" he grinned softly. "Exactly that one. I uh, used that, by the way. In a song, I hope you don't mind." Your eyebrows shot up at that. "You called yourself an arrogant son of a bitch?" He nodded sheepishly. "An arrogant shon of a bitch who can't admit that he is shorry, and I quoted that." you laughed now, loudly. "Bit harsh, innit?" he shrugged, coquettishly raising the tea cup to his lips. "Heard it from shomewhere." You just hummed softly, lifting your cup as well.

A deep sigh rose your chest as you looked at him again, that bright flicker in his eyes again, that lopsided smirk he wore so well. You knew that your crush was back on fully, but right now you didn't even minded it. Harry gave you a small smile, the mischief slowly draining from his green eyes. he seemed to catch on to that shift of your emotions and carefully placed his cup down on the tray, before then carefully placing the tray on the floor and opening his arms.

"C'mere?" you did, immediately.

And for the first time in months you could fully relax. Surrounded by Harry's scent in Harry's arm and listening to Harry's heartbeat. Completely absorbed and surrounded by everything you loved. "Sorry." You mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, feeling how his arms tightened around you. "Me too. I fucking misshed you." you chuckled softly. "Misshed you too, shon of a bitch." His laughter sent vibrations through your body.

"About that Korean dude..." Harry suddenly asked, making your peak up to him. "Namjoon? What about him?" he cleared his throat. "Just...did you like, date or something?" you grinned softly.

"Pretty sure he had something going on with a girl the time I was over there. Maybe he still has. Why? You wanna scare him off again?" he just laughed. "I don't do that anymore. I was just...curious you know. You've always had a thing for these Korean men." You grinned softly.

"Are you now talking Stray Kids or Bangtan or EXO or GOT7..." Harry groaned, "so what. You got something to say about that?" he shook his head. "Course not." You hummed. "And what do you mean, I don't do that anymore? Why did you even do it, like in the first place?" Harry sighed very deeply at that.

"I guess because...okay, promise you listen to the end and don't get upset with me too much, yeah?" you frowned, a bit mentally preparing yourself for whatever was about to follow.

"Okay? Promised."

"Alright, now...I think I couldn't just...let you be and date who you want because I am a very selfish person? I know I know, you probably think: but selfish about what and I can only confess...probably you? No, not probably, I am sure." The words were bubbling out of him as if someone flipped a switch and now he couldn't stop anymore. "I couldn't see you date someone else and...give them all of your attention. And I know, I myself was in a relationship during that time, I know, but I just...I can't describe it." Your eyes grew wider and wider with every hasty rambled sentence and your lips were slightly parted. "It was as if was...jealous, which is weird because I wasn't into you then, no offense please, I mean I had a girlfriend..."

"Hold on, what do you mean, wasn't into you then?" you cut him off and Harry literally froze. His eyes went wide with realisation and his mouth opened, as if he would try to reply something; but there was no sound. All he could think of, was one word, all in capital letters and blinking red: fuck.

"I uh, did I say then?" you clicked with your tongue, an amused grin flitting over your face.

"You did." A blush now covered his cheeks and he cleared his throat eagerly. You moved away from his embrace to get a better look at the man sitting in front of you.

"You did say then. Something changed?" your tone was joking but hidden beneath the layers of sarcasm there was a flicker of something else...hope.

"I...I mean I don't...would it be like...do you still feel the same?" you didn't immediately answered, trying to process what you were hearing. After weeks of pinning and then months of not talking at all, he was confessing – or somewhat confessing – that there was a chance that he now actually liked you back? How was that even possible?

Harry however read your silence as something else than confusion and being overwhelmed with the situation. His face fell from nervous to disappointed and hurt, though he tried to mask those emotions quickly. "Which is of course fine and like, obviously you don't, I mean..." he spoke, and it wasn't entirely clear if he was talking to you or himself.

"I didn't even answer H." you mumbled, tilting your head. "Of course you di- wait what do you mean?" there was this same spark of hope in his voice as there had been in your voice. "If I told you, that nothing changed, what would that mean?" you breathed after a second of hesitation and staring into his wide eyes, filled with fear, nervousness, hope and...vulnerability. At your words there was a small smile that started to tug on his lips, like a light igniting his eyes.

"It would mean that I...uhm, I would then shoot my shot?" you couldn't help it.

"Was that hard to say?" he blinked confused. "Shoot your shot..." you teased and he groaned loudly. "Oh hush, you are unbearable." You giggled, winking obnoxiously. "You decided to eat those edibles. Also, I am worth a shot, no?" he huffed, leaping forwards to pull you back into his arms. "Oh definitely..." you grinned up at him before your breath hitched in your throat at the realisation of his sudden closeness. Eyes flickering to his lips you just waited. But when he leaned in you cleared you throat softly, making him halt. "Before you do that...just please tell me why now." He never moved back just pressed his lips together for a second, thinking of the right choice of words. "In those month where we didn't talk, I had a lot, and I mean a lot of time to think and reflect about the whole situation. About you, about how I felt about you and your partners, how your confession had changed the way I saw or felt certain things...also, Jeff's talked a lot with me about it. The fight and stuff. And then when I saw you again I just...knew? I don't know..." you cut him off with a short nod.

"Okay that's good, now kiss me please." He just laughed before finally, finally closing the gap between the two of you.

And your lips on his made him feel better, lighter and higher than any fucking edible could've ever made him feel.

here are flowers for u, if u rly read this ily 💐💐💐

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