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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 4 years

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Imagine being Tenzin's eldest daughter and dating Bolin which Tenzin isn't very pleased with. So Tenzin makes it his mission to keep you and Bolin apart which just means the two of you find sneakier ways to be together.

Part Two here

Tenzin got back to his house and for once it was quiet, confused where the small army he shared his house with was he approached his second eldest daughter Jinora. "Where's korra?" Tenzin asked. "With Asami". "And Ikki and Meelo?". "With uncle Boomi". “And your mother?”. “Out with Aunt Kya”. Tenzin smiled everyone was taken care of and he could finally relax. "And y/n and Bolin?" Tenzin asked relaxing into his chair. "They'e in y/n's room" Jinora shrugged and Tenzin jumped up "with the door closed? Y/n" he bellowed pushing the door open with air bending. "Okay okay im sorry" he heard you yell and Tenzin sighed having your boyfriend stay here was making him age faster.

You and Bolin were in your room relaxing on the bed preparing to watch a movie. For once you didn’t have to babysit your younger siblings or train so had rushed off for some privacy with Bolin and your dad almost kicked the door down. Your dad was insanely worried about leaving you and Bolin alone despite the fact you were dating and Bolin was the sweetest guy in the world. Bolin had been trying to show you the mover he was in for week but you never had a spare moment where you could be alone with him. So when your dad had gone out and left you and Bolin with no task it seemed like the perfect time. You were determined your dad wouldn’t stop another one of your dates but of course he managed to. When your door flew open you sighed and called back you’d leave it open as per your dad’s many rules about you and Bolin. You looked to Bolin worried this would ruin the date but Bolin didn’t seem to mind. The movie started and you moved closer to Bolin to lean against him and he accomodated you hugging you against him. You and Bolin were just getting into the movie, despite the noise your family was making throughout the house when your father knocked on the open door and walked in. "Y/n its getting late, i think you and Bolin should get ready to go to sleep soon so he should go do that in his room soon". You nodded at your dad in reply so engrossed in the film you didn’t realise he hadn’t left. Tenzin coughed and you both looked up to see he didn't look impressed. "Ow you mean now?" Bolin asked and Tenzin nodded "well yes i think that'd be best". You blushed as Tenzin stood waiting glaring at Bolin. Bolin jumped up obediently while you pouted annoyed. Bolin paused the film and gathered his things and smiled "we can finish the movie tomorrow". You nodded "i suppose" and Bolin went to step towards you when Tenzin actually growled. A literal noise escaped his throat at Bolin daring to step closer to you. You sighed but Bolin just smirked and left shooting you a smile. Tenzin watched him go staring into his back and then turned to your door and fixed two bells around the door handle. "Dad!" You cried "what is that?". "Nothing just a decoration...". "You're doing it so you’ll know if i leave my room! Do you not trust me?". "I trust you y/n but i do not trust teenage boys! And i have to do my duty as your father! Having your boyfriend under the same roof..i have to take precautions". "But you didn't do this for Mako and Korra!". "Yes well Korra is older than you and Mako is more responsible than Bolin". You groaned and Tenzin coughed "you weren’t going to break the rules so this shouldn’t be an issue for you". You rolled your eyes "fine whatever...can i go to sleep now?". Tenzin nodded "i am only doing it because i love you y/n, if you have children you’ll understand". You huffed and Tenzin frowned "well goodnight y/n". "Goodnight dad" you said exasperatedly as the door closed but you didn’t plan on sleeping. Your dad hadn’t put bells on your window so as soon as you heard him go to bed you got ready. You gathered what you needed and climbed out of your window before airbending onto the roof. You carefully climbed across the roof to Bolin’s room and landed outside his window. You knocked on Bolin’s window film projector in hand and saw the curtains swing aside as Bolin realised it was you. "Y/n" Bolin grinned hanging out of his window "what are you doing here?". "Well we didn't get to finish the movie because of my dad so i figured we could now without him knowing?". Bolin hesitated for two seconds before grinning "yes come on it!". It had only been lightly raining but Bolin still wrapped a blanket around you before bringing you back to your prefered spot on the bed. He bustled around getting the movie ready and the secret snacks Tenzin didnt know about before jumping down next to you.

The film finished and Bolin looked at you anxiously "so what did you think...i wasn't sure if it was too far fetched and could you tell i couldn’t do my stunts properly and i didn’t look that great in that scene with the royal guards...". "Bolin" you said grabbing his shoulders "it was great! You were great in it, your stunts were amazing, your acting was really good and you looked well..." you trailed off blushing "basically it was amazing and i really enjoyed it!". "Really?" Bolin asked and you nodded. Bolin seized you in a hug and it made you blush he valued your opinion so much. "Im so glad you like it" he smiled putting you back down "your opinion means a lot to me" he blushed and you smiled. "Yours too Bolin" you told him "you're one of the most important people to me". Bolin's blush grew and he looked down his eyes slightly glazed. Bolin smiled and took your hand "you're pretty important to me too y/n" and kissed you softly. Bolin was always so caring and affectionate he just always made you feel loved and safe. He never pressured or rushed you, he was the best man you'd ever met. You broke away blushing and smiled at him before sighing "i should probably go". Bolin frowned "are you sure i mean it's not even that late...plus it's raining really heavily outside you could get a cold or get blown off the roof! Or lost". "Lost? My rooms practically across from yours!" you smirked but Bolin shrugged "i still don’t think you should risk it". You smirked "so what i stay here until the rain stops...that could be all night". Bolin shrugged "i just think it’d be safer it probably won’t be all night" he argued but his tone told you he hoped it would be. You smirked and nodded "fine..i guess i can stay for a bit longer and see if it stops". Bolin grinned "that's a very good decision y/n i must say". "Stop it" you pushed him before blushing as he grabbed your hand. You smiled and leant into him "i might nap while im here for a bit, if that's okay?". Bolin nodded "of course" and gathered even more blankets to keep you warm. You smiled getting into the blankets and Bolin got in beside you. With a bolt of lightning the rain came down ever harder. You noticed and Bolin pretended to look away. "i didn’t do anything!" he said when he felt you looking at him. "Mh hmmm?" You asked laying beside him but you were smiling. "Promise" Bolin smiled putting an arm around you. Bolin was so broad you fitted against him easily and curled up against his side. Bolin wrapped his large arm around you and you felt do safe and warm with the rain pounding against the window. "Goodnight y/n" Bolin smiled kissing your forehead and you smiled closing your eyes. "Goodnight Bolin".

You vaguely heard voices and groaned trying to sunk further into the warmth and Bolin. You buried your head against his chest and fell back to sleep when suddenly Bolin’s door was thrown open. "Y/n" Tenzin screetched and you and Bolin jolted awake. Bolin let out a yelp as Tenzin stared his eyes bulging. "You didn’t put bells on my windows?" you offered and your father turned even more red. "I’ll be putting bars on your window young lady if you dont stay in your assigned room!" He yelled and to your dismay others flocked to the room. "Did you find her?" Asami asked before smirking "ow...i see". "She's in here?" Mako asked "but thats Bolins room" before trailing off as Korra stumbled in too. "Well you did want Y/N to help rebuild the air nation" Korra smirked before she halted as Tenzin spun on her making the avatar gulp. "Is there something funny about my little girl growing up?" Tenzin yelled at them "no? Didn’t think so! Y/n get out of there right now and march yourself to your room this instance". You distangled yourself from Bolin and all the blankets and stood up red faced. "Sir it wasnt y/ns fault..." Bolin tried but Tenzin silenced him with a look. "You are grounded young lady and if i ever find you in his room again i'll...i'll take away your bison!". "Dad...." you groaned but he shook his head "no buts now to your room". You rolled your eyes but did as he said.

Later you sat in your room avoiding your dad's wrath when you heard someone near your window and opened your suprisingly still unlocked window to see Pabu. "Pabu?" You asked as he scampered in and dropped something on your bed. You grinned to see it was a note from Bolin with a wild flower attached "so guess you're our go between huh Pabu" You asked the fire ferret as you fed him a treat as payment. Pabu made a happy noise and you smiled before turning to Bolin’s note. "Sorry i got you in trouble but it was worth it" he wrote "think your dads gonna have us under surveillance for a while but i'm sure we can work around it. I'm game if you are and next time we wont get caught. Love Bolin". You smiled hiding your note and wrote a quick reply before handing it to Pabu who ran off to give it Bolin. You picked up the flower Pabu had also brought and smirked, you had the best boyfriend ever. Father be damned you’d find a way to see him.

#Bolin #lok bolin #bolin x reader #avatar bolin #bolin imagine #legend of korra bolin #legend of korra #tenzin #lok tenzin #air nation #lok mako #lok korra #lok asami #lok imagine #legend of korra imagine #avatar korra #avatar mako #avatar asami

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

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A Very Hexley Birthday

A/N: Seeing all those beautiful edits on my dash for the birthday of my favourite twins in the Potterverse (I said what I said), I knew I couldn't possibly do any better. So instead, let's have a look what Ethel and Jim are up to on their birthday, shall we?

This is for you, Bestie! @the-al-chemist

Happy Birthday, Jim and Ethel! 💛❤️

Naturally, Ethel and Jim Hexley and Héloïse Perrault belong to my favourite person in this world @the-al-chemist. The attending guests belong to @slytherindisaster (Lysander Mercury), @kc-and-oc (Siobhan Llewellyn, Bradford Pendleton, Oliver and Eliot Gerard, Ivy Anders), @hogwartsmysteryho (Vinny Raymond), @that-scouse-wizard (Cledwyn Ironwood), @cursebreakerfarrier (Galen Stagg), and @unfortunate-arrow (Anthony Rosen).

Even though the golden arrows of the September sun were showing themselves on the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Jeremiah Hexley was in a rather glum mood when he reached for the huge bowl of porridge at the Hufflepuff House table.

It was just out of his reach and his fingertips only grazed the rim; he simply would have needed to stand up to get it, but that would only draw attention to the tall, lankish boy, which was something he generally tried to avoid, but especially so today. So Jim sat straight again and reached for a slice of toast instead.

“I wish you the finest of mornings,” he heard a voice call out to him, “isn’t it a wonderful day outside? You should have seen the colours of the sunrise; no one can paint anything as beautiful as that.”

The voice belonged to Lysander Mercury, another Hufflepuff boy from his year, and undoubtedly Jim’s best friend. He had a spring in his step as he walked up to Jim, and his thumbs were hooked under the straps of his suspenders; he hadn’t bothered putting the black jumper of their school uniform over them yet.

He sat down opposite Jim with a graceful motion, grabbing the porridge bowl in the same instance and pushing it over to Jim. Giving Lysander a grateful look, Jim helped himself to a healthy portion and drizzled a teaspoon full of dark golden honey on top, just the way he liked it. But even the prospect of his favourite breakfast wasn’t enough to lighten Jim’s mood, and it wasn’t lost on Lysander.

“Why such a long face, old fellow?” he grinned, and his stress on the word ‘old’ wasn’t lost on Jim, quite the contrary. “It’s not a day to be brooding!”

Jim opened his mouth to explain himself, but was interrupted by the sound of quick footsteps approaching from behind him; a moment later two pairs of arms were flung around his neck and Jim almost knocked over his bowl of porridge in his attempt to not be thrown off the bench.

“Happy Birthday, Jim!” two girls shouted into his ears in perfect unison, of course they did. The sound of their excitement cut through Jim’s eardrums and he winced as he pushed them away.

“Uhm, thank you,” he muttered, “Happy Birthday to you as well,” he said in the direction of the smaller of the two.

Ethel Hexley, his twin sister and complete opposite and in every aspect imaginable, grinned and clapped Jim on his back so hard he almost lurched forward. “Thanks, kiddo. One more year of making sure my little brother has at least some fun in his life.”

“Like a proper big sister should,” her best friend Selene Fraser added with a knowing nod. Not even the Sorting Hat had been able to separate these two, and sometimes Jim wondered who out of them three actually were the twin siblings.

“But, er, you know Effy’s only older by a few minutes... so she isn’t really my big sister, if you want to put it that way…”

Jim trailed off when he saw something whisk past him into the direction of the porridge bowl. Before he had the chance to dive straight into it though, Lysander had already gotten hold of the brown and white ferret Ethel and Selene shared custody of; Alan’s nose twitched as Lysander held him out to Ethel.

“Take your ferret back, Hexley,” he said, “I’d say you two are looking like the actual twins here, but seeing as it’s unfortunately your birthday as well, I’ll let it pass. Consider this my present.”

“Seeing as Alan definitely is the best looking guy I’ve spoken to today, I’ll take that as a compliment, Mercury,” Ethel immediately shot back, with that unmistakable glint in her eyes that Jim knew promised nothing but bother, very wordy bother.

Lysander had already leaned slightly forward as well, his eyes fixed on Jim’s twin sister, ready for their morning round of bickering and Jim sighed.

“Could you two, uhm… maybe, just maybe… perhaps stop it? Just for today?”

“Leave him, Effy, he’s not worth it. Not a match for you anyway,” Selene muttered to her best friend; Jim gave her a grateful look.

“True, Sels, I won’t have my birthday spoiled by a wanna-be artist in suspenders,” Ethel said indignantly, and Lysander opened his mouth in protest. Selene elbowed Ethel into the side, before setting Alan onto her shoulder and linking arms with her, quickly pulling her away before things would escalate. Again.

Selene turned around after a few steps and called over her shoulder. “Come to the Quidditch pitch after classes, Jim, will you? We have a little surprise for you!”

Throughout the whole day, Jim wasn’t sure what made him more uncomfortable: all the attention he got because it was his birthday, or the prospect of a surprise set up for him by Ethel and Selene. The sheer idea of everything these two could have been planning was enough to upset Jim’s stomach and he couldn’t even enjoy his favourite roast beef for lunch.

When their last class of the day was over, Jim reluctantly made his may over to the Quidditch pitch, as he had been told to. He had wanted to ask Lysander to come, but then again, bringing Ethel and Lysander into the same space was too much for him today; or any day, to be precise.

As soon as he stepped through the opening in the wooden perimeter of the pitch, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Ethel and Selene had laid out several red and white chequered picnic blankets in the middle of the immaculate green lawn, just like the ones their parents had at home. He could see baskets full of sandwiches, little cakes, fruit and cheese on every single one of them, alongside countless jugs of pumpkin juice.

Naturally, Ethel and Selene were standing in the midst of the people already gathered there, laughing and joking and having a wonderful time, and Jim’s heart sank a little. He saw many familiar faces; he saw Siobhan Llewellyn and her best friend Galen Stagg, who were feeding slices of roast beef to a very content looking Alan; he saw Oliver Gerard who was laughing with Ethel about a lively story she was telling; he had brought his brother, Eliot, a Ravenclaw boy Jim didn’t really know, and who was looking very comfortable talking to Selene, who was standing next to Ivy Anders and Vinny Raymond were sharing some cake; he could even spy the eternally grumpy Cledwyn Ironwood, who never got tired of proclaiming he wasn’t Ethel’s friend but, just like Jim, had obviously stood no chance in declining the invitation.

All of these people were there, but all of them were Ethel’s friends, not his. Jim sighed; he knew Ethel and Selene had meant well, but they just didn’t understand him, they never really did.

“I ‘ope we aren’t late, non?”

Upon hearing the familiar French accent, Jim’s heart skipped a beat before beating doubly as fast as before. He turned around and his eyes went wide when he saw the group of people who had quietly come up behind him.

“Bon anniversaire, Jim!” Héloïse swept in and quickly kissed him on both cheeks in close succession, before pushing an immaculately wrapped gift into his hands, the edges of the paper sharp and the bow perfectly tied. Jim tried to thank her but his words came out as a horrible stutter and he felt the heat rise to his face; it felt particularly warm where Héloïse had kissed him.

Next up came his dear friend Bradford, who shared his enthusiasm for painting; he extended his hand to Jim to wish him a happy birthday as well, and the gift he was handing over to him felt suspiciously like the elaborate sketchbook Jim had seen on his last trip to Hogsmeade.

His roommate Anthony was there, too, as always accompanied by his wolfhound Conall. Jim bent down to pet the animal and scratch his ears. He had to smile when he saw how enthusiastic Conall was at the prospect of all the attention; at least one of them was, then.

Even Lysander had been invited, or had in any case decided to show up; you never knew with Ethel and him. But whether he had actually been asked to be here or not, Jim was glad to see him.

By Brady’s side, more quiet than the rest, stood Brady’s friend - or at least that’s what they claimed to be - Carolyn Nyberg. Jim was surprised to see her here; he and Carolyn didn’t really have anything in common but Brady, but then again, they were seldomly seen without each other these days. She inclined her head and quietly congratulated him.

The question as to why Carolyn had come, though, was quickly answered when Ethel spotted the new arrivals and bounded over to them. “It’s so good you came! I’m so happy all of you could make it to our birthday picnic. Most of you, that is,” she said with a pointed look in Lysander’s direction, but before he could shoot back, her attention had already shifted to Carolyn.

“Did you manage to make what we talked about?”

Jim could see Carolyn was trying hard not to roll her eyes. “Please, who do you take me for? That was a child’s play.”

Brady gave her a pointed look. “Be nice, Caro, it’s their birthday.”

She sighed, but her face softened and she reached into the hidden pocket in her dress, producing a small, stoppered vial with purple liquid inside. She weighed it in her hands, looking at the mugs of pumpkin juice on the picnic blankets. “I’d say six drops per mug should be sufficient.” She moved the vial out of Ethel’s reach when she extended her hand towards it. “Not one drop more, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

Jim’s apprehension about Ethel putting a potion into their drinks soon vanished when he saw what it was that Carolyn had brewed on his sister’s request. After drinking from the modified juice, everyone of their guests had a distinct spring to their step that made them jump a little every time they moved. He remembered how much fun Ethel and Selene had had when they had turned the floor of the courtyard elastic with the Spongify charm; it had gotten them three weeks worth of detention and a passion for jumping as high as they possibly could.

Not being particularly keen on moving around like a bouncing ball, Jim had only taken the tiniest sip of pumpkin juice when Ethel had offered it to him; it was enough to give his step a tolerable spring, but not enough to make him bounce like the others, and that was just the way Jim preferred it to be.

Jim usually didn’t feel comfortable among so many people, but he had to give Ethel that, even he was enjoying himself. He watched Héloïse and Selene sharing excited whispers about the latest story of the Muggle detective they were so keen about, while Brady was bickering with Siobhan over one thing or the other, and Lysander was busy trying to place Alan on top of Carolyn’s head, who told him very sternly to stop it if he didn’t want a swig of Veritaserum served with his next meal.

Happy that his and Ethel’s friends seemed to be having a good time, Jim sat down on one of the blankets, partly because he wanted to eat something, and partly because he needed a step back from the hustle and bustle.

It wasn’t long, however, before Ethel spotted him. She walked over to him, jumping into the air with each step, and slumped down onto the blanket beside him.

“Aren’t you enjoying yourself?” she wanted to know. For a very brief moment, concern flickered over her freckled face. “Because I did my very best to make this fun for both of us. Look, I even invited that horrible friend of yours,” she said and pulled a face in Lysander’s direction; he stuck his tongue out at her in response before turning away.

“No, uhm, I just needed a short break,” Jim answered and set down his plate. “You, er… you did a great job, Effy, you know? I’m having fun, I think… It’s a lovely birthday party, really… so thank you. I, uhm, I didn’t expect this, to be honest.”

“But why?” Ethel asked; she looked truly baffled at his words.

“We’re just so… uhm, how do I say it… we’re just so different, you and I. I’m quiet and, er, shy, I guess and you’re so… loud and popular and we’re just not much alike.”

Ethel dipped her head back and laughed loudly. “I’m not popular, Jim,” she sniggered, “I just don’t leave people alone. Tell them you’re friends often enough and they end up believing it,” she grinned and waved to Cledwyn, who rolled his eyes and looked away. “There’s nothing more to it than that. I bet you could do it, too.”

But Jim shook his head. “I’m not really so sure of that... I think.”

Ethel nudged him into the side with her shoulder. “Give yourself more credit. You’re my twin brother after all, that has to account for something. If this is any help, we may be polar opposites, but you’re still my favourite person in this world.”

“Uhm, what about Selene?”

Ethel pursed her lips. “Okay, maybe it’s a tie.”

Jim had to smile at that. Remembering something, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a piece of parchment, tied to a scroll with a crimson piece of ribbon.

“Happy Birthday, Effy,” he said, for once without a stutter.

Ethel’s eyes went wide when she saw the picture Jim had drawn for her. It showed the two of them, laughing with each other. Ethel, despite being smaller than Jim, had his head in a headlock and was ruffling his hair while he was trying to escape, but he was laughing just as much as she was. The drawn versions of themselves were moving over the parchment in fluent motions. Jim had asked for Héloïse’s help with enchanting it; with his French still being awful, it had been one of the most awkward and complicated conversations in his entire life.

“It’s beautiful, Jim, thank you,” she said and flung her arms around his neck. When she let go, she looked a little sheepish. “Now I feel stupid for what I got you, although I’m pretty sure you can need it.”

With a wink, she produced her own gift. Jim could see she had wrapped it in her typical Ethel-style, with way too much wrapping paper and loads of colourful ribbons; one of them looking suspiciously like the hair tie their grandmother had gotten Ethel for Christmas. He blushed deeply when he read the cover of the small red book the parcel contained:

101 Foolproof Ways to a French Witch’s Heart - A Guide for Modern Gentlemen

“Effy… that… um… you… why…” Jim stuttered, his face a deeper shade of red than the Gryffindor banners hanging from the wooden tower behind Ethel.

His twin sister only sniggered. “Read it and thank me later.”

She got to her feet and pulled Jim along, motioning to the entrance of the pitch, where Selene was in the process of levitating a giant birthday cake onto the field. It had enchanted lion and badger figurines on top; the lion was throwing tiny pieces of cake after the badger, who caught it with its mouth.

“Come on now, dear brother,” she said as she linked arms with him and half marched, half dragged him across the lawn towards their friends. “We have a cake to cut.”

#ethel hexley #jim hexley #selene fraser #lysander mercury #heloise perrault #cledwyn ironwood #oliver gerard #eliot gerard #anthony rosen #bradford pendleton iv #carolyn nyberg #hphl #hogwarts legacy #oc birthday #writer besties

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awellboiledicicle · 3 years

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I feel like Columbo in the world of Ace Attorney could go two ways.

Fantastic speed bump in all the cases hes allowed to be involved in. Routinely trips up Gumshoe for hours at a time by bringing up rabbit trails until he just tells Dick to go handle the paperwork, which he does bc its easier that figuring out whatever angle Columbos on. Stalls cases out so they last a week at minimum bc he more or less figures out whose responsible and works from there. If you're a defense attorney and Columbo seems uninterested in your client beyond an initial chat, you know that the prosecution is going to be handed a report on just how the killer is actually someone related to the case but not the defendant. Edgeworth dreads having to work with him because Columbo is never automatically on his side. Hes always on the victims side, end of story. Von Karma probably only weaseled out of suspension bc it flat didnt occur to Columbo to think there was another person involved until Wright brings it up. Hes probably the only one who wasnt wigged out about the spirit medium thing. Probably offered to let Edgeworth stay with his family for a bit, because Gregory strikes me as the kinda guy Columbo would invite over for dinner. Hes probably a touch less chill bc of the sheer volume of cases and things needing looked at.

Prosecutors favorite mixed bag. Because this is a man who is very good at his job, even if his superiors really dont want him to be. One hand, if Columbo agrees with who you have on trial, your job is basically done. His reputation pulls weight in a world where you get three days max for a trial and investigation is barely longer than that, while overlapping. On the other, if you put Columbo on the stand and he DOESNT believe you're trying the right person, you're handing the defense a free win. Because he WILL have evidence and he will have walked the defense through it and might tag team with them on it in the courtroom. In normal world, the court is not his job. But in AA, a detective's job seems to largely be done while speed running with the lawyers prodding around instead. And if he knows the prosecution is content to jail an innocent to make their own jobs easier, he will flip on them. This is a man that can and will ferret out corrupt superiors and in canon succeed in doing so. In AA that's a very dangerous, but probably possible and necessary action.

Basically its "how long until someone tries to shoot him and he lives because Dog bites the potential murderer on the leg" and "how much subterfuge is happening in the background to keep Columbo being a one man publicity stunt for the police while also not having him find out EVERYTHING".

I mostly started the post bc I kept imagining Colombo doing his thing at Redd White until the smug bastard was begging to be jailed. Bc he just. Exists. Wherever the suspect is. Until he's sure.

Realistically tho, even having only played up to Turnabout Goodbyes, the in universe corruption in the legal system would probably mean he just was out of a job, or hes part of the old guard that knows what it used to be like when the process if law and order at least kinda worked.

I like to imagine he'd work with Wright as a consultant tho, just bc I like the idea of maya playing with Dog while Columbo gives Phoenix information

#shitposting #columbo #ace attorney

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pxnk-velvet · 3 years

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heart vs. mind // bolin x female bestfriend!reader

This is my piece for the atla/lok collab, hosted by @aitarose

Here’s the link to the main masterlist if anyone would like to check it out <3

===

“It’s me or her.”

The sentence clanged around in his head, thoughts churning deeply, as he sat hunched over on a bench. Body still clad with his sweaty pro-bending gear. He rolled his helmet from one hand to the other, completely baffled at the decision he had been faced with.

His girlfriend?......

Or his best friend?.....

Opal or Y/n?

It’s not like this hasn’t come up in conversation before. It has, in fact, been the topic of multiple. Which was something Bolin didn’t mind. Or at least didn’t mind up until now. How was he supposed to make a decision like this?

Ever since the beginning, Opal had always shown slight discomfort with how close Bolin and Y/n are. But who was she to break up a boy and his best friend? She had let it slide for some time now but recently she was getting more and more fed up with everything. On the other hand, Y/n had given Bolin and Opal space in the beginning, allowing themselves to each other. But now she goes everywhere with them. Something Opal obviously wasn’t too fond of but back then she didn’t have the heart to say anything that might hurt Bolin’s feelings.

Just before the match ended, both of the girls had been waiting in the locker booth to congratulate the Fire Ferrets on their win.

Y/n practically bursting at the seams when the team scored, nearly tumbling over the railing she was leaning on.

Opal walking into the booth, rolling her eyes as she witnessed Y/n cheering loudly. Opal quickly switched her demeanor, putting on a a tight lipped smile and clapping along with Y/n.

“Come on, Bo! You can do it!” Y/n screamed, cupping her hands around her mouth.

Opal had no idea what was up with her today but all she knew was that Y/n was getting on her last nerve. The dormant volcano inside of her finally awakening. Getting closer and closer to eruption.

“If you win, dinner is on me tonight!” Y/n offered, screaming at the probender.

Opal could’ve sworn she saw Bolin’s strength and speed pick up a little. Did he really not tell her? Was he really going to pass up their planned date for going out to eat with her?

She had been planning this outing for weeks now. A lovely dinner for two and only two. Then hopefully he’d take her back to his place. She even bought a cute set in his favorite color. She wasn’t going to let it all go to waste because of her.

Then an idea popped into her head.....

“No, Opal. You can’t be so mean to her.....well, not that mean but a little is fine.” She thought in her head, watching as her boyfriend’s best friend cheered and bounced next to her.

“You know, Y/n, me and Bolin are going out for a date later.” Opal attempted, hoping she could follow through with it.

“Oh? Well I’m sure you and Bo wouldn’t mind if I came al-“ Y/n started, intentions completely innocent.

“I do mind! He’s my boyfriend!” She exclaimed in the girl’s face, “So please back off and leave us alone.”

Y/n stumbled back, startled, jumping a little when the winning buzzer went off.

When Y/n had first met Opal, she actually thought she was pretty sweet and a good fit for Bolin. But over time, after everyone had gotten comfortable with each other, that’s when things started to take a turn. She started noticing the subtle glares and muttering Opal would send her way. Y/n choose to ignore it in hopes that if she tried spending more time with them things would change. But it only seemed to make things worse. Which isn’t what she wanted at all.

Opal stood over Y/n, towering over her opposite. Y/n’s frame sunk into the wall it was pressed up against, the lump in her throat threatening to make an appearance, tears and all.

“Hey guys! We won! Did you see that amazing move I-“ Bolin burst into the booth, Korra and Mako trailing behind him. The tension in the room so obvious, a sword could slice through it with ease.

“Uh- What’s going on? Did something happen?” Bolin questioned, unknowing of the current feud going on between his best friend and girlfriend. Mako and Korra standing awkwardly in the background.

He took in the scene paused in front of him. Opal, in complete distress, frustration apparent on her soft features. Something he had only seen so intensely a few times before. As well as the face of shock like she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t have. Y/n standing opposite of Opal, clearly trying her hardest not to let her emotions get the best of her. He could tell by her teary eyes and trembling lip. Mako and Korra’s great escape also didn’t go unnoticed by the earth bender.

Y/n opened her mouth to speak, only for a quiet sob to fall from her lips as she turned to out the door.

“Wait, Y/n! What happened? Talk to me.” Bolin called, taking hold of her shoulders before she could leave. His heart wrenching at the sight of his best friend in such dispare.

He turned to Opal, confusion evident, “What about me? Why don’t you ask to see how I’m feeling?” Opal whined from the other side of the room.

Y/n managed to slip out of Bolin’s grasp and run out of the room. Only the did Bolin get what was going on.

“What?” Bolin responded, to which Opal rolled her eyes and turned away.

“I really didn’t want to do this, but I’m putting my foot down, Bolin. She spends every waking moment with us. I can’t take it anymore! We need some alone time, Bo!” Opal vented, showing a side he had never seen before, “I can’t have you to myself anymore! You’re my boyfriend!”

“And she’s my best friend, Opal!” Bolin retaliated, “I’ve known her for years. I’m not just going to throw that all away. We’ve been there for each other when we had no one else. Why can’t you just get along with her? She tries so hard to get you to like her!”

Opal felt a chill run up her spin as soon as her brain comprehended those words. Was he seriously choosing her over his own girlfriend? The girl that he was supposed to love? The fact that he was going beyond just defending her didn’t sit right with Opal. The fact that Opal, his girlfriend, who he was to make time for and be there for her, was being pushed aside for his best friend. The fact that she was being expected to get along with her and withstand the constant extra voice in their conversations. Then it clicked.

“You like her...” Opal choked out, barely loud enough for herself to hear as she slowly turned back to face him.

“What?” Bolin struggled, “Opal that’s not-“

“Bolin. Stop lying to yourself.” Opal spoke sternly this time, “It’s me or her.”

Bolin stood completely shocked, starring at the girl that stood a few feet away. He let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding in.

Before he could even say anything, Opal rushed out of the room in the same manner Y/n had just a few moments before. Only this time, completely tearless.

Now, sat a clueless boy in his sweaty pro bending uniform, contemplating a decision that could change the rest of his life.

#bolin #bolin x y/n #bolin x opal #bolin x reader #bolin x you #legend of korra #pro bending #opal #opal beifong #korra #avatar korra #mako #mako and bolin #legend of korra imagines #avatar the last airbender #y/n #atla #beifong

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writing-mlm · 4 years

Text

Date night

request: tooth rotting fluff, something a lil risky/ if you catch my drift or literally anything (accept angst)

warnings: cursing and smut don't mind canon, there are canonical inaccuracies in this

"Are those swim trunks?" You covered your mouth to hide the chuckle trying to escape at the sight of Mako's nightwear. The green and white boxers nearly touched his knees and were so wide you almost didn't recognize them.

"Harhar," Your boyfriend rolled his eyes before turning to face you, his face instantly lights up a bright red. It was morning so it was easy to see the blush on his pale face, not to mention his eyes instantly darted around your body and settled on the door behind you. "Shouldn't you be heading to the arena?" He stammered, taking a step back when you took one forward.

"I dunno if you can tell, but I need to get dressed," You tugged at the knot keeping the towel around your hips. Not that he saw, he was too busy looking away from you despite having seen you naked the night before. Sometimes you dreaded the fact that the self-proclaimed Team Avatar had split nearly a year ago but you learned to cherish the newly found time you could spend with him now. You even had time to move in together, although you had separate rooms.

"Right," He cleared his throat, going to leave the room when you closed the curtains to your room. "I'll be in my room, if you need me," Letting out a hum you dropped your towel on your desk on your way to the closet while he left the room. As soon as he left, you let out a sigh and ran your hand over the marks he left last night, a grin spreading across your face all the while.

Even if you loved teasing him outside of sex, you couldn't deny the fact that you were a major bottom. You loved it when he left marks or when he held you close as he degraded you. It was also fun to see him do a complete 180° when you weren't being intimate.

"We're still on for tonight right?" You asked him in the kitchen as he made breakfast. It was date night but it was also the last match of the season and your team was counting on you since your replacement was less than ideal.

"Of course," He nodded, moving over to the fridge to grab another egg, his lips catching your own on his way back. "Lin gave me the night off so I'll be able to watch your game," It was rare for him to watch games with his schedule, you both worked at the same times for the most part so it allowed more time together away from work. Though, he'd managed to catch the radio broadcast of the tournament and congratulate or console you.

"Amazing, maybe I could get a good luck kiss," You grinned, wrapping your arms around his torso, your head resting on top of his while he flipped the eggs into an omelet. Mako hummed, his hips swaying with yours to the music faintly playing from outside

"And when you win…" He trailed, subtly curving his body into yours. "You can take charge tonight," Kneading his sides, you shifted your head to his neck and pressed a slow kiss to it. His smell mixed with the food filled your nose as you pressed another kiss to his neck, that time it caused a slight moan from Mako.

"The eggs are burning," You whispered into his ear before walking away, the smell of slightly burnt eggs leaving your reach. All the while Mako grumbled about distractions. Going over to the fridge, you grabbed a jug of orange juice and poured it into the two cups set at the table.

"Hope you like burnt eggs because I'm not remaking them," He called over his shoulder, sliding the eggs onto two plates making you laugh.

"I've eaten literal trash, I'm sure slightly burnt eggs isn't going to be a bother, my love," When you lived with Korra, she often dared you to eat trash and you hardly ever said no. Not because you were afraid to, no, you did it because you didn't want to back down from a dare.

After breakfast, you checked the time and decided to head to the arena to get in a couple of hours of practice while Mako was at work. Even though you had a certain distaste for the prince, with his not so subtle flirting with your boyfriend.

"I love you," You whispered against his lips, your fingers playing with his baby hairs on his neck that he forgot to gel up again.

"I love you more," He pecked your lips, hesitant to leave but the honk of the car outside pulled him away. Dropping your hands from his hair, you grabbed the keys to his moped and tossed it towards him before grabbing your own set. It was a Christmas gift from Asami around two years ago when you both were dating- when you thought you liked girls.

Like Mako, until you realized your feelings for each other you both thought you were straight. That the feeling Asami (and Korra) gave you both was romantic rather than the familial/platonic that you were actually feeling. It took Asami pointing it out during an event for Korra for you to notice that you had a crush on Mako. It also took another five months for you to ask him out, which didn't go as planned due to the fact that he passed out since you decided to do it in the middle of a fight.

It wasn't one of your brightest moments.

°°°

"On the left side are the Fire Ferrets!" The announcer yelled into the microphone as you and your team waved at the fans in the stadium. When Mako, Korra, and Bolin gave up pro-bending you decided to take over and brought on a fire bender named Anika and an earth bender named Genji. Anika was a recent addition to the team after the previous fire bender moved and she was way better, in your opinion at least. Genji was still wary of her.

"And on the right, we have the Red Sand Rabaroos!" The all-girls team waved as you stepped off of the platform and stepped to the left while Anika took the front and Genji went to the right. You tried to spot Mako in the crowd but so many people were standing up and blocking people that it made it nearly impossible so you turned your attention back to the match.

At some point into the first round, you managed to knock Adi, their team's firebender, into the water advancing your team into their territory. With that bit of confidence, you jumped up and used your right leg to swing the water in the direction of Ula, their earth bender just as Anika finished sending a fire shot towards her stomach. The two hits sent her back a zone while Genji got hit in his side by a disc.

In most games, you ignored the announcers play by play since it took you out of the game and it helped a lot during final games but as he called time, you got hit by a disc. The pieces of rock shattered and got inside your helmet, one of them managed to scratch your cheek.

"Yellow card to Ula just as the first round finishes!" The announcer yelled as you took your helmet off and dusted your face off. "First round goes to the Fire Ferrets!" Letting out a relieved sigh, you let your shoulders slump and walked over to the extended platform with the rest of your team.

"You good?" Anika asked back in your little room in the area, a small patch of water on your check cleaned the small cut. There were smaller parts of rock inside it so you needed to get it out before you healed it.

"Yeah," You nodded, moving your fingers to start to clean it, the water glowing a light blue as the familiar tingle rushed over your face. "Just a small cut," Dropping the water back into the bucket, you fixed your hair back and stood up, Anika following you up.

"Are you-" She tried to speak but was cut off.

"Is it too late for a good luck kiss?" Mako asked from the entrance of the room, his hand on his hip and head tilted to the side.

"Maybe I need two since you're late," You teased meeting the distance and pulled him close. He placed his hands on your face and rubbed your cheeks while you played with the end of his shirt.

"Seems reasonable," He grinned as the both of you kissed twice, the second one longer than the first.

"Sorry I'm late, I got caught up with Prince Wu, he wouldn't let me leave until he found a new set of pajamas," He apologized, his hands slowly drifting to your shoulders. "I got in just as the match started, though," Unwrapping your arms from him, you were pulled away by the sound of the cabinet slamming closed.

"Hey, Mako!" Genji greeted, walking over from outside the room, and shook his hand. "Nice of you to make it, (y/n) was pouting the whole time we were training. Going on about missing you," Gasping, you smacked his arm with the back of your hand and crossed your arms.

"Don't act like you weren't complaining about the fact that you had to go against Adi," You recalled, chuckling when he struggled to say something back.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend," Anika drifted off, her eyes moving from Mako to you.

"Oh, yeah," You nodded, hooking your arm around Mako's shoulder. "Anika, this is my wonderful boyfriend, Mako. He used to be the leader of the Fire Ferrets until he started working with the cops and then he came back and now he's working with Prince Wu," You trailed and the sour look on your face quickly went away before Mako had a chance to see and point it out.

"You make it sound bad," Mako laughed but stopped when the announcer said the next round was about to begin. "I'll see you after you guys win, nice meeting you Anika!" He gave a wave to the others and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before leaving the room.

The rest of the tournament went by relatively easy, your team ended up winning with a K.O. from Anika.

"You wanna grab a bite?" Genji asked you, Anika and Mako, on your way out of the arena, his hand running through his hair that was still damp from when he fell off of the platform in the second round. "Same place," It wasn't unusual for you to go and get a victory dinner with the team, it was slowly becoming a tradition.

"It's date night," You shook your head as Mako slowly eased his hand into your grip. "next time, though. See you!" Parting ways with the two, you looked over at Mako and gently pulled on his arm to get his attention.

"How about we head home and have some fun…" You trailed off, your eyes shifting from his to your hands as you rubbed the back of his hand. "Maybe we can finally put that rope to use," A while back Mako had gotten some rope that he wanted to use in the bedroom but up until now all of your chances to use them had been a spur of the moment and the idea wasn't even in either of your minds.

"We better hurry then!" He agreed with a clearing of his throat, his grip tightened around your hand when he saw your moped knowing it would only be so long before you'd be home.

°°°

"Fuck!" You moaned as your face pressed against the white sheets of Mako's bed, unable to hold yourself up due to the fact that your arms were tied behind your back. The rope that held them also held your legs up, spreading you to be in the perfect position for Mako as he rammed himself inside of you. "Harder- ah- please!" Gripping the red robe as you felt Mako angle himself higher, your eyes squeezed shut with anticipation, and the drool that was pooling on the sheets only got bigger.

"You're so fucking hot like this, (y/n)," He whispered out, his hands coming down to get you off of the bed. His left hand was holding you by your stomach and the other was around your neck, the tips of his fingers pressed gently to the sides of your neck. "Look at you, so eager and ready for me,"

With your back to his chest, you were able to finally see him, his eyes were on the mirror beside the door that gave him the full view he was otherwise unable to see. Your legs were between his, your fingers just brushed the base of his dick that was twitching inside of you. You could feel your own twitch with every accidental thrust that came when he was admiring your body.

"Mako," You whined, dropping your head forward as you tried to bounce yourself on him. "Please, fuck me, please," Stretching your fingers as far as you could, you managed to loosely wrap them around his cock, the base was damp with lube but it wasn't as much as the rest of the shaft since he never bottomed out. His thrusts were always too fast for him to do so.

"Is that what my prince wants?" He asked coyly, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as his hand that was previously around your neck trailed down to your neglected dick. "Hmm? Want me to press that handsome face of yours against the bed and have you screaming my name until you can't speak?" Nodding, you closed your eyes as he gave you a few pumps before you gasped at the feeling of his dick bottoming out.

"God, I love you," He kissed the sides of your neck before he pushed you back down to the bed and resumed his pounding. "Come on, darling, moan for me!" With an arch of your back, you called out his name, your eyes closing as you tried your best to push yourself back on him but with both of his hands keeping you in place you couldn't move.

"Don't stop! Please-" You were cut off by another moan as he gripped your hair, giving it a tug to pick your head up enough so that you could see the mirror.

"Look at how hot you look, baby," He rasped, his eyes trailing from your ass to the mirror to meet your eyes. "Fuck, yes, keep looking at me," As much as you tried to keep your eyes on him, you found it getting increasingly harder with the tears welling up in your eyes from the pleasure.

"Why're you crying?" He asked, his pace slowing down in case he was going too far and his hand dropped from your head but you shook your head and started moving your hips to bounce on him making him chuckle.

"Feels good, keep going," You mumbled, trying to lift your head without his help but he went right back to what he was doing and leaned down. His lips grazed your back, they were slightly chapped but felt good nonetheless.

"You're ethereal," He grunted, his pace getting slower and his thrust getting sloppy. "If I saw a picture of you I'd think you weren't real," Smiling at the compliments, your eyes closed again as you felt the knot in your stomach that had been there for a good couple of seconds start to unravel.

"I'm cumming," You panted out, your dick bobbing as you came on his sheets while it took him a bit longer. But it wasn't long before he was painting your insides white, the few twitches he gave along with it nearly tipped you over again.

"We should do this more often," He grinned while undoing the rope with a single tug at a certain loop, your arms and legs fell down without a moments notice and you collapsed onto the bed. "Poor baby," He cooed as you laughed and rolled over, cum now dripping out of you and smeared on your chest.

"I love you, too," You said, hooking your arms around his neck and gave him a tired smile. "But I'm so close to passing out," Mako only hummed and hooked his arms around you before he picked you up.

"Go ahead, I'll clean you up," Nodding, you laid your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, letting the sleep that had washed over you pull you under while Mako took you to the bathroom.

#mako x reader #make x male reader #x male reader #male reader #lok x reader #mako x you

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storydays · 3 years

Text

Season 1, Episode 1, p2

You dodged an Earth disc from the opposing team's earthbender's steady hand and used two water blast toward the earthbender and the firebender, sending them into the sink below. The crowd cheered as Mako and Bolin then sent the remaining benders into the sink. "And what an amazing triple play by the Fire Ferrets! If they can win the expedition match, the rookie sensations will be moving into the championship!" You grinned at your long time friends, brothers Mako and Bolin. Bolin was a rather loud, excitable earthbender and happy go luck person in general. Mako, however was a angst filled firebender, very serious, and could be a bit of an unintentional ass.

You stumbled across them about 8 years back, while trying to track down your father with your Auntie Kya, who had been on a break from their busy lives.

*Flashback*

Your Uncle Tenzin was searching with your Aunt Lin, while Aunt Pema and Gran-Gran were staying back with a newborn Ikki and a two year old Jinora. You felt so grown up, helping the adults. Your Auntie was rambling about how her brother's were idiots, and a few not so children friendly cuss words, when you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You stopped, catching her attention. "(Y/N), what's wrong, honey?" She knelt in front of you, waiting.

You would tell her when you were ready. She knew you were listening, for something.

Your (e/c) eyes looked down the alley, before whispering into the older waterbender's ear. Kya smiled, before standing up and followed you to the alley. There you found a pair of kids, one wearing a red scarf around his neck, the other with thick eyebrows. The one with scarf, you knew was a firebender, held sadness, and protection for his brother. The other was an earthbender, and he oozed fear for his brother, and he also held sadness, but could be a different reasons. You put on a gentle smile, before holding your hand out.

"We've been looking for someone, and we found you two. We've been wondering around for hours, and I'm hungry. Do you guys want to join us,at the Rosemary Cafe?" The older brother eyes you and Kya for a moment before looking at his brother, and nodded, trusting your (e/c) eyes. Together, the four of you spent time in Republic City, until your Aunt Kya ran into the pro-bender gym owner. They were old classmates/associates and knowing how hard it was to survive, the older man, adopted the boys, and they became family.

After waving goodbye to them, you and Kya found your father making a fool of himself at a local bar. Your aunt whacked her brother upside her head, grinning as you try to stifle your giggles. That was a day, you would never forget, because it made your Aunt Kya proud at your big heart.

*Flashback end*

You grinned, after taking a sip of water as you listen to Bolin chat happily to his brother who replied bluntly. Other than your family, they were the only ones who knew you were an airbending master, and it was the biggest secret Bolin has ever held which, and it made your proud and special that he could help protect you. You finished changing, fixing your hair, so it hid your arrows again, before answering your radio that you kept on your person while off Air Temple Island. "Yes, Uncle?" You questioned, waving goodbye to your friends. "Yes, I'll meet you there, soon." You hung up, and then whistled for your other pet/friend, a polar bear dog, like Naga, but they were sister and brother. "Neo, here boy." You cooed as he sat in front of you, nudging you and looking at you fondly. "Let's go see Auntie Lin, boy."

He barked happily, and quickly ran to the police station where your Uncle was waiting. Waving down a nearby guard, you asked him to take Neo to the animal section of the station, before Tenzin began walking. "So, why are we here?" You asked putting your arms behind your head, acting nonchalantly. "We're here because of Korra, it appears she ran away, and came here to start trouble." He grumbled, leading you into an interrogation room, where Korra was flinching under the Chief's stern voice. "Let's see, multiple counts of destruction of private and city property. Not to mention, evading arrest." She slammed the file in front of the girl, before leaning in close.

"You're in a whole mess of trouble, young lady." "But there were some thugs threatening a helpless shopkeeper and I--" Korra tried to explain. "Can it." Lin growled, walking away. "You should have called the police, and stayed out of the way." "But I couldn't just sit by, and do nothing. It's my duty to help people." She pouted, before giving the Chief an awkward smile, "See, I'm the Avatar."

You snicker, seeing the unimpressed look on your aunt's face. "Oh, I'm well aware of who you are, and your avatar tittle might impress some people, but not me." Korra looked a little shocked before relenting. "All right, fine. Then I want to talk to whoever's in charge." Unfazed by her tactics, Lin sat down across from her. "You're talking to her. I'm Chief Beifong." 'And in 3,2,1..' you counted down in your head before realization struck Korra. "Wait, Beifong? Lin Beifong? You're Toph's daughter!" She exclaimed. "What of it?" Lin huffed. "Well, then, why are you treating me like a criminal? Avatar Aang and your mother were friends! They saved the world together.." Korra trailed off.

"That's ancient history. And it's got nothing to do with the mess you're in right now. You can't just waltz in here, and dole out vigilante justice like you own the place!" Your Uncle then ushered you to follow him. "All right, let's go get Korra before Lin kills her." He muttered, making you grin. "Chief, Councilman Tenzin is here." A guard called into the room. "Let him in." Lin sighed before standing up, and folding her arms behind her back. Tenzin walked in with a frown on his face, and you hung in the doorway, leaning against it and crossing your arm with an mischievous grin. "Tenzin, (Y/N), sorry. Got a little sidetracked on my way to see you guys." She shuffled nervously in her seat.

Tenzin inhaled softly, before sparing a grin at Lin. "Lin, you are looking radiant as usual." Your shoulders shake as you tried not to laugh. "Cut the garbage, Tenzin. Why is the Avatar in Republic City?" She growled at the man. "I thought you were supposed to be moving down to the South Pole to train her." "My relocation has been delayed. The Avatar on the other hand, will be heading back to the South Pole immediately, where she will stay put." "But--" Korra tried to cut in, but Tenzin continued as if she hadn't spoken a word, "If you would be so kind, as to drop the charges against Korra," He paused to glare at the shrinking girl's figure. "I will take full responsibility for today's regrettable events and cover all the damages." Lin looked back at the crestfallen teenager, looked at you who smiled cheerfully back, before sighing in resignation.

She waved her hand, unlocking Korra from her cuffs, before crossing her arms. "Fine, get her out of my city." "Always a pleasure, Lin." Tenzin complimented, before turning sternly to the Avatar. "Let's go, Korra. You as well, (Y/N)." "Wait, I need to talk to (Y/N). He'll catch up with you in a second." Lin stated, fighting a grin as the two made their way out. Korra rubbing her wrists, cast a look behind her, only to see Lin shoot her the famous, 'I'm watching you.' look before Korra replied with the same look, only mushing up and mocking the woman. Lin threw her hand up and scrunched her face in confusion before turning to a laughing you. "So, tell me what happened today!" Lin grinned, no one knew it but you, but she loved watching your matches, and tried her best to catch them when she could, or at the very least, listened to the matches on her private radio.

You grin quickly explaining everything to her, and she smiled seeing you hyped up. It wasn't often she saw you this excited and it was a breeze of fresh air, and she was happy to see a spark in your (e/c) eyes. "But yeah, and if we win the expedition match, we go to the finals and we could be the champions!" You cheered. "That's great, (Y/N)! I'll be sure to catch those two matches for sure." She smiled before hugging you and sending you on your way. "See ya tonight for dinner, Aunt Lin."

You quickly grabbed Neo, and followed your Uncle to the harbor where he was trying to get a boat for Korra to leave immediately. "Tenzin, please don't send me back home." "You blatantly disobeyed my wishes and the orders of the White Lotus." Tenzin stated. "It was actually (Y/N)'s idea!" Korra defended. You grumble, ignoring your uncle's withering stare. "It was your idea to have her come here?" He demanded. "Technically, I told her to look for the pro-bending gym, or I'd assumed she would've gone straight to Air Temple Island." Your Uncle then began lecturing you before you blurted out, "I had a vision!" They both looked at you with looks, varying between shock, awe, and surprise. "Why didn't you tell me, (Y/N)?" Tenzin asked calmly, knowing you responded better that way.

"Because I only just figured it out, what that vision meant, and I knew I had to act quickly, to try and speed things along." You fidget in place, Neo whining and gently nudging you in an attempt to comfort you. Seeing you were uncomfortable, Korra spoke up. "Katara agreed with me that I should come. She said my destiny is in Republic City." She felt successful when Tenzin turned his attention to her, face turning redder than his clothing, and you sent a grateful smile to the waterbender. "Don't bring my mother into this!" he snapped, ignoring your laugh. "You look like a tomato, Uncle."

"Look, I can't wait any longer, to finish my training. Being cooped up and hidden away from the world, isn't helping me become a better Avatar. I saw a lot of the city today, and it's totally out of whack. I understand why you and (Y/N) need to stay, Republic City does need you both, but it needs me too." Korra finished her speech, leaving Tenzin to stammer before sighing as a police officer brought Naga to the group. "Is this your polar bear-dog, miss?" He asked tiredly. You laugh before gently taking Naga to see her brother Neo who howled with glee seeing her big brother.

Korra sighed seeing the boat come closer to the port. Tenzin was really making her leave. You stood next to your Uncle as he studied Korra. "You know she's right. It'd be helpful and beneficial for everyone involved, if she stayed. It's going to happen anyways, so it'd be better if she was here under good tenses, instead of her constantly sneaking off." Your conversation was cut short, as the 3 Airbender kids landed in front of your group. Meelo hopping off of Jinora's back, and the kids hugging her legs and waist. "Korra!" They cried happily. "Are you coming to live on the island with us?" Ikki asked, as Korra knelt in front of them. "No, I'm sorry, Ikki. I have to go home now." She felt her heart break at the kids disappointed cries.

"Aw." Tenzin watched the scene with sad eyes. Ikki then hopped on your back, and snuggled into your back. "I don't want Korra to leave." She murmured, sadly. "I know, she doesn't want to leave either." You said, clearly, before sharply elbowing your uncle. He looked into your (e/c) eyes, and then looked at the sad faces of his kids, before sighing in defeat. "Wait." He walked forward to a surprised Korra. "I have done my best to guide Republic City towards the dream my father had for it. But you are right, it has fallen out of balance since he passed. I thought I should put off your training in order to uphold his legacy. But you are his legacy." He put his hand on Korra's shoulder, and smiled softly at the girl.

"You may stay here and train airbending with me." Korra gasped excitedly as Tenzin continued. "Republic City needs its Avatar once again." "Yes! Thank you! You're the best!" Korra cheered as the Airbending kids cheered with her. She grabbed the airbenders in her arms, giving a giant group hug, and making Tenzin groan at the girl's strength. You laugh as Naga snuggled Korra's back, happy that her girl was happy. You smiled softly from atop of Neo, as Nevermore found you and curled in your lap. "Hey girl, didja miss me?" You coo, running your fingers along her scales, before looking into the stars, smiling. 'Things are going to get crazy, aren't they, Mom?'

--The Next Day--

You stood behind your Aunt Lin's stern figure as Korra was at a press conference. The Avatar didn't know where to look with all the flashing lights, but a quick glance to you, made her get her confidence back, she cleared her throat, before speaking. "Hello, I'm Korra, your new Avatar." "Does this mean you moved to Republic City?" An older reporter called out. "Were you trying to send a message to the Triads yesterday?" A green eyed woman asked."Will you be fighting crime, the anti-bending revolution, or both?" Another cried. "Will you be working with Chief Beifong and the police?" A final question rang out. "Uh, yes, I am definitely here to stay, but honestly, I don't have a plan yet. See I'm still in training, but all I know is Avatar Aang meant for this city to be the center of peace and balance in the world, and I believe we can make his dream a reality, and I look forward to serving you! I'm very happy to be here! Thank you, Republic City!" Korra then walked off with Tenzin, as you stood by Lin's side. "That's all, no more questions." Lin demanded, before tugging you along with her.

You grin finding Neo and Naga playfully wrestling, before sitting next to Korra while Tenzin and Lin were talking quietly. "Good job, Avatar. I know things will start to get better now that you're here. Just promise me one thing." You refused to meet her eyes, but you knew she was listening. Turning toward her, you raised your pinky to her, "Promise me, we'll do this together." You beg as she studied you. Korra sent you a gleaming smile before hooking hers around yours.

"I promise."

#legend of korra #legend of korra x reader #x male reader #lok x reader #male reader x legend of korra

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dreams-got-dimmer · 4 years

Text

New Girl Pt. 2 (Bolin x reader)

Okay here’s the thing I haven’t seen enough steamy Bolin fanfics yet and while I would rather be reading them, I thought maybe I’ll just write one and help out the others who desperately want to read about their fav thicc earth bender.

Summary: multiple part fic?? + AU kind of

(The reader is 18, Bolin is 18 and mako is 20)

Reader desperately needs a place to live and finds an advertisement for two brothers who need a roommate. Maybe more than just living arrangements may come out of this deal... (reader x Bolin) (slow burn)

Disclaimer: I’m changing the story from first person to second as it would make more sense to the reader. If I ever plan on doing POV for Bolin, which I want to it will be in third person. I know it’s a switch up, but I think the story will flow nicer using second and third opposed to using first

Word count: 2399

Warnings: slight angst?

PART 1 PART 3

“so uh, yeah, this is your room,” Bolin rubbed the back of his neck, “I know it’s not much, but hey it’s something right?” he started to fidget on the balls of his feet.

“So bashful, now are we?” you couldn’t help but notice Bolin’s nervousness now that you two were alone. Mako was only on his break when you had arrived and had to get back to work so he left Bolin to show you where everything was in the loft, especially your room. Red heat started to seep into Bolin’s cheeks at your words. As much as you wouldn’t have minded teasing him more you decided to save him the embarrassment.

“I’m just joking,” a small laugh escaped your lips, “I know how hard it can be to meet someone new, especially when you end up alone together,” started to walk around your new room taking in everything it had to offer, which wasn’t much. But that was the best part about it. It was simple and you could make it your own in no time. The poster wasn’t lying when it said the loft had a view of Air Temple Island. Even being a fire bender, watching the wave push and pull was always calming to you. You could see yourself spending hours just drinking in the sounds of the ocean. You turned back to Bolin and smiled, “You seem pretty outgoing, but I can understand how it can be easier to meet new people when your brother is around,” saying that reminded you of all the times you’ve been on your own meeting new people. Sure, it was going just fine now, but it hasn’t always been this way.

“Y-yeah of course, definitely because my brothers not around, heh,” Bolin went back to rubbing his neck. He didn’t do a great job at assuring you that his brothers’ absence was why he was nervous, but you weren’t going to pry. “Anyway, how do you like the loft. I hope it becomes your home as much as it became mine and Mako’s,” The warmth in Bolin’s cheeks finally started to fade as he smiled at you, “It’s better that I could have ever dreamed of,” you admitted. Your parents house was nothing too extravagant, but it was able to hold you and your family somewhat comfortably. The shelter did it’s best to be welcoming and you couldn’t be more grateful to have a warm place to stay, but it couldn’t beat what you were looking at now. Thinking of the shelter reminded you that there were still items of yours at the shelter. It wasn’t much, but you still didn’t want to leave them behind.

“Do you want to come with me to the shelter so I can pick up the rest of my things?” you changed the subject. Bolin seemed nice, but you weren’t too sure how willing he would be to help you with your things, “I would love to go!” he nearly shouted it, “Then you can tell me more about yourself and I can show you my favorite restaurant,” He broke out into the same smile you saw earlier when Mako agreed that you could move in. It was genuine and precious, and it made your stomach tie in a knot.

Bolin might singlehandedly be the sweetest and goofiest person you had ever met. He insisted on going out to eat first and as you both walked and made it his mission to keep you laughing. The nerves he had before were practically non-existent now. He told you all about pro-bending and even though you’ve been to matches and knew the rules you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything because of how enthused he was to talk to you about it. He even promised to bring you to practice and matches. And even though he was an earth bender he wanted to show you moves you could use in a match and maybe he could even get Mako to show you something too. You happily agreed to everything Bolin offered because 1. It did seem really fun and 2. You couldn’t wait to show Bolin what you were actually capable of with your bending. It’s not like he was trying to be rude, but maybe Bolin assumed you didn’t know how to do much since your parents restricted it. The thing is strict parents cause sneaky kids and you were the sneakiest of them all. You had been sneaking out since the young age of eight and you had learned a lot more than anybody even knew. So, maybe it was a good thing that your parents were that way. If they weren’t you may have never had the knowledge of bending that you have now.

Even though you were going to pick up your things the day was starting to feel like a date. Bolin had brought you to Narook’s, which he happily told you had the best noodles in all of Republic City then proceeded to eat three bowls to himself. You were beside yourself that you had never gone here before. Bolin wasn’t joking that these were the best noodles in all of Republic City and you almost wanted to get mad at him because he just introduced you to your newest money pit. It would be so worth it, though. Especially if you got to have days like this with Bolin. He even refused to let you pay no matter how hard you tried to get the waiter to take your money. If it was a date, you wouldn’t have been angry in the slightest. He was charming you by the second and the way his eyes would shift from jade to emerald within seconds did nothing to stop you from being lost in everything that Bolin was.

The sugary sweet feeling you had in your chest soon turned sour. The feeling wasn’t even caused by the two of you facing the shelter it was what Bolin said that made your insides curdle and all the happiness of the day went numb.

“I can’t wait to introduce you to Korra! She’s the avatar and everything about her is amazing,” he looked at you with lovesick eyes and it made you wish that you were Korra, “She’s beautiful and talented and she’s even on the Fire Ferrets with me and Mako,” a blush crept back onto Bolin’s face and you wanted more than anything that it was you who was making him blush. You wanted to slap yourself in the face for thinking this way. You just met him. He wasn’t anything to you. You tried not to think about how he himself helped you have the best day you’ve had in years, maybe in your life. You’ve been with guys, but none of them have ever made you feel this happy, especially within the first hours of meeting and you and Bolin hadn’t even kissed. You weren’t about to let some boy you just met control your emotions like this, even if he was impossibly adorable.

“I’m thinking of asking her out. I’m just so nervous,” Bolin confessed as he began rubbing the back of his neck, which was oddly attractive by the way. No, stop you can’t keep thinking like that. You tried your best to shake away any thoughts of jealously and the minute attraction you had for the earth bender, “you’re a girl, what would be the ideal date for you?” He pleaded as his lip jutted out into a pout. You gulped. If it wasn’t bad enough that you misread this day so far, this day was the best answer you could give him. Scraping together every ounce of courage you had, you decided to be honest, “My ideal date,” you pretended to muse even though you didn’t even have to utter a single thought to know what it would be, “Honestly just do what you did today and I’m positive she’ll love it,” you breathed out as Bolin’s eyes widen. That was enough honesty for the day. You looked away from him quickly trying to ignore his lips parting.

“We should go get my stuff now,” you shrugged, “There’s not much anyway, so it should be easy,” you didn’t wait for his answer as you rushed into the shelter. Bolin trailed in moments after you and you kept your head down not wanting to talk to him yet. Maybe you just ruined whatever friendship you had with Bolin by telling him the truth. Your thoughts came to a halt as you crashed into something, actually someone.

“Spirits I’m sorry,” you sputtered looking up. You eased when you saw it was just Anzu one of the volunteers at the shelter. Not only that, she also had become one of your close friends during this month stay. The two of you were complete opposites and it was hard to understand how the two of you clicked so well. She was everything you weren’t. She was perfection and grace. Anzu embodied everything that was ethereal. She was golden and her strawberry blonde hair flowed in a way that made it seem like she was underwater. Anzu grabbed your arms to steady the two of you and began to smile.

“Always so clumsy,” Her laugh tinkled in your ears, “and who is this?” curiosity lined her voice as her eyes shifted to look at Bolin.

“shut it Anzu I am not,” you grumbled crossing your arms, “And this is Bolin he’s my new roommate along with his brother Mako,” happiness spread through you again, “Bolin this is Anzu she’s my best friend, but she also volunteers here,” You motioned between the two and Bolin waved enthusiastically. “No way!” Anzu exclaimed, “You found a place to stay?!” She grabbed a hold of you nearly shaking you, “I’m so so so happy for you. I’m going to miss you, though,” She frowned a bit pulling me into a hug, “Please visit all the time, how am I going to stay sane without you?” you pulled away from each other.

It was a bittersweet feeling because Anzu was right. She had made staying at the shelter bearable and not only that, she had gotten you out trouble too many times to count. She’s even responsible for you being able to stay at the shelter even though you burnt part of the living quarters down out of anger and frustration when you first showed up.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to survive, but I’ll make sure to visit as often as I can,” you assured her.

You both hugged again not really wanting the moment to end, “I’ll let you two get your things, It was nice meeting you Bolin, I hope to see more of you soon,” Anzu breathed out as she glided away down the hall.

You started down the hall thinking about how much you were actually going to miss not seeing Anzu every day. “what happened here?” Bolin stood wide eyed as you approached your room and you didn’t even have to look at what it was, “I did that,” you muttered, glancing at the burnt hallway. Your parents had the audacity to show up at the shelter after a week of staying there. They had more to say about what a horrible monster you were. How they wished you were never born. It was a disgrace to them that a bender was born into their family. The staff was kind enough to force them out of the building, but it only did so much to aid your already broken heart. That interaction was the last straw for you and it precedented the substantial breakdown that caused the burning of half of the bedrooms. No would could get close to you no even Anzu. You had no idea what to feel. It was too much the hate, frustration, and brokenness of it all. It caught up to you and the only outlet you could use was destruction. The next day you apologized profusely to everyone at the shelter and promised that once you started making steady money you would help pay to rebuild that section of the quarters.

“You,” he paused, “Did that?” Bolin was in utter disbelief. You were desensitized to the area having to look at it for the past weeks, his words made you look at it with fresh eyes. There was no denying that it was a gruesome sight. Most of the walls were charred through and there were tarps to keep the outside elements from getting in. All the furniture was pretty much disintegrated and looking at it too long just made your stomach sick, “can we just get my things?” you pleaded feeling small, “I don’t really want to talk about it,”. You pushed your door open and before you could take a look for the last time at the place you had been staying, Bolin pulled you into a hug. He bowed his head into the crook of your neck and let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry for whatever happened,” He drew back and looked at you earnestly, “Me too,” his hug felt like warmth and hot tea on a bad day. He was surprisingly gentle for how muscled he was and even if you didn’t want it to end you plastered a smile on your face, “Let’s get my things so we can get the hell out of here,” You motioned towards you room. It didn’t take long to gather your extra clothes and odds and ends and before you knew it you were spending your first night in the loft. You looked out at the ocean and let the sounds of the tide help you mull over what happened during the day. You were able to close a chapter in your life that you didn’t think was going to end and as for Bolin he was your roommate and hopefully friend and you weren’t going to jeopardize that just because there was some semblance of attraction for him. Besides, he seemed to really like Korra and that’s what mattered, not the inconsequential feelings you might have for Bolin. You were sure you’d wake up in the morning and the tiny crush would dissipate, for you had bigger things to worry about, like finding a job and actually making friends with Bolin and Mako instead of pining over them.

-------

a/n: wow guys I'm amazed at myself that I have written this much. But if you have made it this far thank you! I wanted to do a slow burn for this fic and it’s actually a lot harder than I thought, but I am trying my best. I’ve never really wrote fiction before so if you guys have any advice on how to improve my writing, please let me know! again thank you so much for reading this far (: I hope to see you again soon

-S

Taglist:

@yellowoctvber @doubtedbus409

#lok #legend of korra #atla #avatar the last airbender #thicc boi bolin #bolin #bolin x reader #slow burn #mako #asami #korra #bolin au #au

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missbeautyandherbeast · 4 years

Text

By Any Other Name

Draco Malfoy X Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: You hated Malfoy and he hated you and you were okay with that. It was natural. The Malfoys and the Lupines hating each other. It was fine by you... so then why did you care when he got hurt?

A/N: Alright y’all. Here it is! A small piece to what I have coming for you guys. At the moment we’re gonna keep it in book 4 because... well I want to. A few notes: 1. I gave the Reader a last name (and something very close to my own) 2. Because I’m American, so is the reader (it’s explained) 3. Yes, I am a Gryffindor (but I have a problem with the House system, but I won’t get into that now) Please let me know what you think! Do you guys want a seperate blog dedicated to this?

HP Tags: @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog

Fourth year at Hogwarts and of course Malfoy stood right there on the train as we shipped off. I didn’t say anything as he and Ron and Harry got into it again, though I wanted to. It had been four years and the only person that Malfoy hated as much as Potter, happened to be me.

Our families had been rivals for... centuries. In a desperate attempt to break the cycle, my parents moved to America, with me. I had no contact with Malfoy or his family... until I got my letter to Hogwarts. Then the time came to go back and be who I was meant to be.

When first year came, there was a blond-haired stood beside me in line alphabetically, and though he didn’t talk to me, and scared off other students, I did manage to get a smile from him. I knew his nerves matched mine. We had reputations to live up to. It gave me hope that I wasn’t alone.

Then I found out he was a Malfoy.

And I was a Lupine.

Slytherin and Gryffindor.

I guess it started then. Every class we had together we had avoided each other. Shunned each other. I refused to rise to his bait, and I suppose he grew bored. We hated each other in silent. Unlike Harry, Ron, and Hermione—who I was quite close to, but not completely taken with—I sighed and shook my head.

That was, until third year and the entire Buckbeak incident happened. Then I wasn’t quiet anymore. I was almost worse than Harry about making snide comments to the ‘Slytherin Prince.’ I hated injustice and I was tired of being quiet about it. And Harry wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and Hermione wasn’t the most vocal... I on the other hand was both, and it infuriated Malfoy to no end. Because there was one thing that I had on him:

I was a pure blood. And he couldn’t do anything about that.

Our rivalry grew. Every day it was something different. Every class we had together we challenged the other. I won most, but the few he did win he wouldn’t let me live down. Our duels left him angry and brooding and me grinning and smiling all day.

Maybe I could see why our two families didn’t get along. He was too easy. It was almost fun. It also helped me in my classes—to beat Malfoy at his game I had to be smarter than him.

_________________________________

The Fourth Year

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a pure blood,” He sneered as I got off of the train.

I snorted a laugh and rolled my eyes, Harry and the other two had gone on ahead, leaving me with Malfoy and his two goons.

“Careful Malfoy, I don’t think I’m a mirror,” I quipped, a wicked grin on my face.

I could see him grow red as he looked for a comeback. I simply walked off.

“You won’t win! No matter what you do!” He shouted.

“I don’t have to win!” I turned around, still making my way towards the school. “I just have to beat you!” A smile stayed on my face for the rest of the night.

_________________________________

I watched as Harry turned away and Malfoy rose to cast a spell against him. I drew my own wand to counter him, but there was no one to cast a spell on but a small silvery ferret, where Malfoy was standing.

I stared at the small thing, a smile growing on my face. This was almost too easy.

Moody came then, started scolding the little ferret Malfoy, holding him by his tail and I itched to tell Moody that’s not how you’re supposed to handle any kind of animal—even if it was Malfoy—but McGonagall beat me to it.

Something, that was beyond any rivalry, gripped my heart when I saw Malfoy, now human again, curled up on the floor in pain and fear. I was about to reach my hand out to help him up, but Hermione gave me a nudge. A reminder.

“Don’t talk to me,” Ron said quietly as we sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

I was almost to lost in thought to notice that he had said anything.

“Why not?” said Hermione in surprise, drawing me from my thoughts.

“Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,” said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret . . .”

Harry and Hermione both laughed, and a smile touched my lips as I ate quietly. I didn’t quite agree, and I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I should be laughing at his misfortune. It was almost too easy. The entire situation was a gift from my ancestors, and yet something was... off.

“He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,” Hermione said. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it —”

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I didn’t like the idea that he had gotten hurt... or could have gotten hurt worse than he already was. But why did I care again? We were enemies. That was that. And yet...

I tuned out Ron yelling at Hermione at her comment.

“Hermione’s is right guys, it could have hurt him,” I muttered.

I looked up from my plate and Ron and Harry were staring at me like I had three heads. Hermione was indifferent, the look on her face like she knew something.

“Any why do you care? You hate him more than the rest of us.” Harry pointed out.

“I compete with him yes, and he’s a pain, yes, and I wish I never had to see him again... but he doesn’t deserve to...” I trailed off knowing I was fighting a losing battle.

“I’m off to the library,” Hermione stood, pushing her plate away.

“I’m gonna go too,” I stood, pushing away my half-eaten plate.

“But why? You don’t have homework!” Ron complained.

“I’m not doing schoolwork,” Hermione said in passing as we left.

As we walked down the hall Hermione didn’t stop looking at me. I sighed and kept to my own thoughts, trying to unravel the dilemma that the situation presented.

“You like him,” she nudged me.

“What? No! I don’t!” I deflected. “Me!? Like a Malfoy!?”

She laughed.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell the boys. But if you want to check on him, he’s probably in the infirmary complaining.”

“Why would I—”

“You really think I believe you want to go to the library?” She raised an eyebrow. “You hate the library. You study in your room at all costs,”

That was true, I preferred my own space and to study in the comfort of my own bed and room. It was hard enough focusing, let alone focusing on things in a place I wasn’t comfortable in.

“I just... I don’t know Hermione... seeing him like that. No one deserves that. I know Malfoy is... Malfoy... but injustice is still injustice?” I offered. It was some sort of explanation.

“Go,” She ordered. “I’ll see you later.”

I debated a moment more then decided.

“Thanks, Hermione. I owe you one,”

“Just go!” She shoved me off and I changed directions heading towards the infirmary.

Thinking that this was the stupidest thing I ever had done, I, for once, shoved every preconceived notion about Malfoy that I had and went to go and see if he was... okay.

Ugh.

I could hear him complaining as I entered the hallway that held the infirmary. A smile touched my lips as I neared the door. Some things would never change.

“Can I help you, dearie?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Here as a visitor,” I smiled sweetly.

“For who? Mr. Malfoy?” She raised an eyebrow at me. She had seen both of us in here as a result of our little rivalry.

“Against my better judgement, yes.” I sighed.

She let me in and immediately his eyes snapped to mine. His eyes were puffy and red, like he had been crying. He looked pitiful. I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t have it in me.

“What are you doing here? Come to make fun of me?” He snapped, crossing his arms.

“Where’s your posse?” I asked, folding my arms as well, cocking my head back. “I thought sure they would be with you.”

“Am I their keeper?”

“I thought so.” I smirked.

“Whatever, Lupine,” he rolled his eyes.

We remained quiet around another as time stretched out. There were so many things that I wanted to say but didn’t. I wanted to ask if he was okay, if he needed anything, if he was still hurting. But I also wanted to laugh and make fun of him. I wanted to put him down and never let him live this down. I wanted to write a letter to my parents so that they knew...

And I did none of that.

“You make a cute ferret,” I noted and turned to leave, wondering why I went in the first place.

Part 2

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chaoticowlpost · 4 years

Text

A Strange Addiction

It was a strange addiction, Harry had to admit. But in his defense, it was completely Molly Weasley’s fault.

It all started during their last year of Hogwarts, when Molly had gifted Draco a sweater once she found out that the two of them were dating and, out of politeness- as he claims- he continued to wear the sweater constantly whenever he had the chance.

The thing about it was that, well, it was huge. Molly seemed to have gotten the measurements wrong, so whenever Draco wore it, he would practically be swimming in the soft wool she used to create it. The neck could reach up to his nose while the sleeves were much too long and extended past his hands and the entire thing just poofed up around him, making him look much smaller than he really was.

Needless to say, Harry found him absolutely adorable.

“Another one? Harry, really?” Hermione asked as Harry made his way back into the 8th Year Common Room holding another bag that contained yet another sweater for Draco to wear. It was, as the rest of the ones he bought were, much too large for Draco’s size.

“Yes,” was Harry’s short reply. He couldn’t even be arsed to hold back his enormous grin as he imagined Draco wearing it.

“At this rate, your pet ferret is gonna have a sweater for each day of the month. Possibly year,” Ron rolled his eyes, silently cursing his mom for having ignited Harry’s addiction to seeing Draco in oversized sweaters.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but he suddenly heard a soft voice call his name out.

“Harry,” it came out sounding very gentle, but also like Draco had just woken up. And just as he had predicted, once he turned around he was greeted with the sight of a rumpled, sleepy Draco that was wearing one of the large sweaters Harry bought for him.

“Hello, love,” Harry greeted immediately, getting up to wrap his arms around his sleep-addled boyfriend, who gratefully returned the action by burying his face in the crook of Harry’s neck.

Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him over to where his friends were seated, just as Draco asked, “where were you?”

“Just bought something from Hogsmead,” he replied. The only response he got in return was a drowsy nod, and a yawn that Draco attempted to cover with one of the huge sleeves.

“It’s another sweater. Surprise surprise,” Pansy said with delight, peeking into the paper bag Harry brought it. Completely unbothered, Harry then proceeded to wrap an arm around Draco and pull him into his chest so he could lean on him.

A house elf appeared in front of Harry, prompting Draco to sit up and lean away from him, much to Harry’s displeasure, before getting something from it and returning to his previous position while cupping a warm mug of...cocoa? And mallows, with both of his hands and taking a long sip.

“Draco, what did we talk about with using the house elves for things we could do ourselves?” Hermione asked, none of the venom she normally spoke with present when it came to house elf rights.

“S’cocoa,” Harry’s boyfriend mumbled into his mug. “Marshmallows. y’want some?” He lifted the mug and offered a sip to Harry, who grinned at Hermione’s exasperated expression while taking a sip of Draco’s drink.

“Oh c’mon,” Ron groaned as he watched the two of them. “At least Hermoine and I weren’t as bad as you guys when we started dating.”

“Excuse me, Weasley, but you were,” Blaise Zabini’s voice interjected from the other side of the common room. “We all saw it. Even the Hufflepuff’s felt sick.”

“Sod off,” Ron groused, glaring at the carpet before turning his eyes to his girlfriend while pleading, “Hermione!”

“You’ll live, Ron,” she laughed, ruffling his hair. “Anyway, we’re going to head out to the Lake to study. Do you guys want to come?”

Draco, never one to turn down his academics no matter how tired he was, nodded, tickling the side of Harry’s neck with his soft hair. Despite his answer, though, he made no notion to get up.

“C’mon, love,” Harry sighed, not really in the mood to study. But Draco wanted to study, so he supposed it wouldn’t be so bad. He could probably just spend the time trying to distract him from his readings.

“M’gonna change,” Draco mumbled, downing the rest of his cocoa and licking the excess from his lips before getting up. Or at least, what looked like an attempt to get up.

Really, he just threw himself on his front before groaning and using his hands to push himself up from the ground, practically crawling as he attempted to force himself to stand up.

“Hey, ‘Mione,” Ron said, “Remember that picture you showed me? The one of the monkey getting up slowly and evolving into a human? I think I see it.”

Draco flipped him the bird before finally standing up and making his way to his room to change into a new set of clothes.

“You don’t have to change, you know?” Harry asked, not really wanting Draco to get out of the sweater. Somehow, the idea of seeing Draco struggling to attempt to flip through the pages of his book through his sweater because he couldn’t be bothered to pull the sleeves over his hands appealed to Harry, possibly even make the whole studying thing more bearable.

“S’fine,” the blond mumbled in response, still sounding somewhat sleepy but at least more awake than he did a while ago.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione waited patiently, talking about school while Harry made his way around the common room, grabbing both his and Draco’s books and school materials and shoved them into their respective bags.

“Done,” Draco sighed, no longer wearing the sweater Harry bought him. No, instead he was wearing one of Harry’s hoodies, which were already a bit large for Harry. More so on Draco, who was more lithe and lean whereas Harry was a bit bulkier.

The sleeves still went past his hands and the hood was pulled up over his head, leaving some strands of Draco’s soft blond hair sticking out messily.

“I don’t want to fix my hair,” Draco reasoned, sounding a bit sulky as he attempted to flatten his hair with the flat of his palm, which was covered by Harry’s hoodie, making his hair static instead.

Draco pulled his hand away and uselessly glared at it while pouting, finally pulling Harry out of his staring and breaking into a wide grin. He made his way over to Draco before wrapping his arms around him once again and placing a soft kiss onto his nose.

“Let’s go study,” Harry said softly, distracting Draco from his attempts to get his hair to submit and nodding, allowing himself to be pulled out of the dorms.

“Oh no,” Ron groaned from his spot behind them as he and Hermione began trailing after them and making their way to the Great Lake. “Another addiction for Harry.”

Harry didn’t care, though. His sudden resolve to buy Draco a bunch of oversized hoodies remain unwavered as he pulled Draco through the halls, who wrapped Harry’s arm over his shoulder and leaned into his side.

Everyone had their own quirks, after all. His just happened to be a strange addiction.

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#harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #harry #draco #fluff #short fic #hp #fanfiction #drarry fluff #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #established relationship

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brandstifter-sys · 4 years

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Bone Palace Ballet

Word Count: 1111 (Ao3)

Rating: T

Pairing: Dukexiety

Warnings: Innuendo, mild gore (Remus)

Dukexiety Week: Day 5 - Music. Virgil is a little emotionally distraught and uses music to cope, too bad he’s predictable and Remus knows what certain artists mean. He just wants to know what he did to piss off his emo.

@dukexietyweek

---

It was easy to tell when Virgil was pissed off, and easier to tell why he was pissed off. He liked to use his music as a release. If Deceit was bothering him he would blast "Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" by Set it Off. When Logan got under his skin it was "Had Enough" by Breaking Benjamin. Patton getting too overbearing would result in "Let You Down" by Three Days Grace. Roman got special treatment, Evanescence and Bullet for my Valentine—not just one song like the others. Remus was even worse—Silverstein was for when he said something to get under his skin, Parkway Drive was for when he did something to anger Virgil, but not all of that was because Remus did something wrong.

Remus was passing through the commons when the distinct sound of metal screams hit his ears. He winced knowing exactly which song he was hearing and he wondered how he upset his best friend—who he wanted to cuddle and kiss until his lips fell off—leaving a bloody trail.

"Harlot's Web?" He shouted and banged his fist on the door. He could make out two voices screaming beautifully and he tried not to swoon. When Virge didn't miss a beat, Remus composed himself and went inside.

It was just too adorable for him when he saw Virgil standing in the middle of his room with a brush in his hands and his hair in his face. He was too busy banging his head and screaming his lungs out.

"My. Heart. Bleeds. No. More! NOW! It's been turned to stone! You're—What are you doing in my room!?" Virgil yelped when he noticed Remus staring at him.

"Oh, you know, stalking you, hoping to find you asleep so I can watch you!" Remus teased, bringing a furious blush to Virgil's face. The emo paused his music on his phone and crossed his arms.

"Get out!"

"Mmm no. I know what Silverstein means so what do I need to do to make it better? I'm down for anything you want! And I mean anything!"

"Leave."

"I'm sure you can think of something better than that, Scare Bear!" Remus jeered, "At least tell me what I did this time!"

"Get out of my room and don't call me that!"

"Aw why?"

"Just don't!"

"Alright, my tell-tale heart!"

"That's even worse!"

"My wet nightmare?"

"No! Nothing that suggests you like me that way!"

"But how else can I drop hints!?" Remus groaned, "Honestly even when I'm being subtle I'm not subtle! I can't do subtle!"

"What?" Virgil questioned and dropped his brush. He was staring at Remus in shock. Did the supposedly vigilant one seriously not catch on?

"I like you, Virgil, like, like-like you. I would keep your organs on a shelf instead of selling them or eating them. I didn't think my hints were all that subtle. I want to be your boyfriend and do all the stupid things couples do but with a fun twist! I mean, I want to be your best friend still, even if my feral mojo doesn't work on you! You are a boy and I am a duke, can I make it anymore obvious?!"

"You coulda maybe said something direct without resorting to Avril," Virgil grumbled and averted his gaze, "I don't do well with hints. I overanalyze. You know that."

"Okay!" Remus beamed, "Virgil I have a major heart boner for you and I want to be all sappy and domestic with you and maybe get in your pants!"

"And you're sure you're talking to the right guy, right? I'm kinda—me." Virgil said and waved his hands around uncertainly.

"I'm positive! And you can hit me with a lightning bolt to prove it!" Remus answered with a shimmy. Virgil snorted and fought back a smile.

"You interrupted my jam session to ask me out, you are so lucky I'm saying yes."

"Really?"

"On one condition," Virgil smirked, "You have to suffer through the rest of it, without complaining."

"Scare Bear Scaring Bears," Remus laughed and flopped on the bed, "you say that as if I'm not getting the second best kind of show and a sexy emo boyfriend!"

"Do I want to know what tops me?"

"I'm a 'what!'" Remus cheered and winked.

"Only in your dreams, Pup," Virgil scoffed, "You're just a sandwich."

"A sandwich? I am a snack!"

"Not what I meant," Virgil jeered and pressed his tongue to his cheek, "You're a sub." Remus beamed and laughed.

"Okay, okay, you got me!" he giggled, "Just jam so I can nut from your voice and get all sappy and lovestruck!"

Virgil took his phone and switched to a different artist. He grabbed his hair brush from the floor. He would never admit it, but he was keen on performing. Call it being part of Thomas—as long as the audience was small and non-judgemental, namely just Remus.

Remus sat cross-legged and wiggled excitedly. Virgil smirked and held the brush like a microphone again, nervous but ready. Then he pressed play.

"Did my heart love until now? Because I've never seen–" he ran his free hand down Remus' cheek, making the duke flush and squirm, "–beauty til this night! I'm forever, yeah, I'm forever yours!" Virgil couldn't fight the grin crossing his face as Remus squirmed like a flustered ferret.

"I'm right here in front of you and I can't stop sh-sh-shaking! I can't stop sh-sh-shaking! C'mon and hold me still," he sang, tapping his foot in time with the drum as he neared Remus. The duke was vibrating in his seat.

"You're wearing your skin like it's too tight," he said with a coy, teasing lilt to his voice. Remus couldn't take it. He was so close, so tantalizingly close and open.

Remus dragged him down by the jacket and kissed his breath away. And Virge kissed back with just as much longing and need, tangling his hand through Remus' mane and dropping the brush to wrap his arm around the duke's back.

"I've been wanting to do that for ages," Virgil snickered when they broke apart, "but I was in the middle of something."

"Yeah, seducing me!" Remus jeered, "Maybe you should skip the jam session and make out with me and cuddle."

"You know what," Virgil said and paused the music again, "I think that's a good idea." He flopped on the bed and dragged Remus down with him.

As they kissed, Remus couldn't help but take a mental note. When Virgil wanted to think about him in a positive way, the emo would jam to Chiodos. Remus never expected he would want to hear that band all the time now.

---

Songs mentioned:

Had Enough

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

Let You Down

My Heart Bleeds No More

Bulls Make Money, Bears Make Money, Pigs Get Slaughtered

#dukexietyweek2020 #remus sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #dukexiety #sandyscribed #swearing tw #sex mention tw

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] Also on AO3

Chapter 11: Sasha

They all jump at the sound of the recorder clicking off. Tim sits up straighter and rubs his hands together.

“Well!” he says in what Sasha can tell is a falsely cheerful voice. “I think that’s enough earth-shattering revelations for one night. Who wants that whiskey now?”

“I refuse to get drunk around you again,” Sasha says. It’s a pathetic attempt at their usual banter, but it does get a genuine smirk out of Tim, complete with that unfairly attractive dimple.

Jon exhales heavily. He pulls off his glasses with one hand and rubs at his eyes with the other. “I should…probably get going.”

“The hell you will,” Tim says immediately. “Look at you. If I let you out the door, you’ll fall asleep at the wheel and die before you get to the end of the block. You’re staying the night.”

“Tim, while I appreciate the offer—”

“Nope, not interested in the rest of that sentence. The only thing keeping you upright is the arm of the sofa and the starch in your underpants.”

“And the stick jammed up my ass, no doubt?” Jon raises an eyebrow.

Tim grins. “See? You’re so tired you’re actually joking around with me. Stay the night, and tomorrow we can get answers out of them first thing.” He stands up without waiting for an answer. “One of you can take the sofa, the other one can have the love seat. Unless you want to build a blanket fort on the floor, but it wouldn’t be fair to leave Martin out. We’ll let the old folks fight over the bed.”

“Old folks?” Jon Prime repeats indignantly. He shoots an obviously exaggerated glare at Martin Prime, who isn’t even bothering to hide his snickers. “We don’t look that bad.”

Tim laughs. He’s the only one that doesn’t seem that tired, really. “Come on, you two. I’ll show you where the bedroom is.”

Jon Prime gets to his feet, then hesitates and glances at Martin Prime. Sasha wonders how blind Martin Prime actually is, because he seems to respond to that look; he hesitantly reaches out in Jon Prime’s direction. Jon Prime takes his arm without further comment, and Sasha watches Martin Prime’s shoulders slump in evident relief before the two of them quietly wish the rest of them goodnight and follow Tim down the hall.

Sasha watches them for a moment, then glances at Jon and Martin, who are both avoiding looking at one another. She decides to give them a little space and go gather up the spare blankets and pillows. They probably both need a minute or two to process what they just heard.

Truthfully, Sasha’s not sure what she thinks of it either. She’s impressed that Martin Prime isn’t passively rolling over and taking whatever Jon Prime dishes out, and she’s a little bit in awe of his strength. Could she have survived two weeks alone and blind, let alone in the Archives? That feeling of being watched is creepy enough when she can look over her shoulder and confirm nobody’s actually there; she can’t imagine what it would be like if she didn’t have that option. It must be terrifying, but Martin Prime hasn’t shown it.

She’s also—there’s no denying it—curious as all get-out. She kind of wants to interrogate Martin Prime, find out how he lost his eyesight, if it’s total vision loss or partial, if he thinks it’s temporary or permanent. What it’s like being blind in general, what it’s like trying to maneuver around the Archives blind. How he plans to deal with it if it is permanent.

As she passes the door of Tim’s bedroom, which is ajar, she hears Martin Prime say, evidently mid-sentence, “—put you to any trouble.”

Sasha slows her steps and hovers outside the door, eavesdropping shamelessly. It’s always been one of her fatal flaws, that urge to snoop and spy and pluck secrets out of thin air. It’s part of what drew her to the Magnus Institute over any of the other research or archival jobs she could have taken, the other part being that most of the others would have required her to go too far from London. She hasn’t said anything about that to any of the others, about why she’s so keen to stay in the city. For all she loves ferreting out things about those around her, she’s always been close-mouthed about her own secrets.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Tim says. “Like I said, we were planning to spend the night in the Archives anyway, and I don’t think we’d all have fit on that cot in the back room. My floor’s a lot more comfortable.”

“Yes, but we don’t want to turn you out of your room.” Jon Prime sounds uncertain and exhausted.

“I offered. Look. Martin’s probably going to be asleep before I get back out to the living room, he looks exhausted. And I don’t think the rest of us want to leave him alone right now.” Tim sighs. “Where did we all sleep when we did this before?”

“Hmm?” Sasha isn’t sure which one of the Primes makes that noise.

“You said this happened a lot earlier than it did for you guys, right? If we want to keep an eye on each other like this now, I bet it was even worse two months down the line. Did somebody else put us all up or what?”

There’s a short pause before Martin Prime says, “No, we—we all sort of went our separate ways.”

“Wait, seriously?” Tim sounds genuinely shocked. “No, that’s—if you were hurt—”

“I wasn’t, though. I was the only one who came out of it unhurt.”

“Physically, anyway,” Jon Prime says. “We were all a bit…it was rough for a while there.”

“All the more reason we should have stayed together, then,” Tim says. “Whose idea was it not to?”

“I think we were all just…tired,” Martin Prime says slowly. “You—our Tim, I mean—he was in quarantine for a while, so he just wanted to go home, and Sasha…she wasn’t herself.”

Somebody makes a noise that might be a laugh, but Sasha isn’t getting the joke. Tim has an audible frown in his voice when he speaks again. “And you? What did you do? Go back to the place you’d last seen when you were being toyed with by six thousand worms wrapped in a trench coat and pretend that the idea of sleeping there alone didn’t bother you, then spend the night lying in bed staring up at the ceiling and jumping at every single sound?”

Martin Prime doesn’t answer for a moment. Finally, he says, so quietly Sasha has to move closer to hear properly, “You know, nobody ever actually asked me about that?”

“You know, that doesn’t really answer the question.”

“Martin?” Jon Prime’s voice is soft and laden with concern.

Martin Prime sighs heavily. “No. I went back to the place I’d last seen when I was being toyed with by six thousand worms wrapped in a trench coat and found out that I’d missed the deadline to renew my lease, then spent the night in a waiting room at St. Pancras pretending I had an early-morning train and reading through rental notices.”

Sasha presses a hand to her mouth to keep from swearing out loud. Tim does enough of that for both of them. “When was the lease up?”

“Mid-April sometime? Mrs. Mattson is…I’d been living there for years, but she’s not a sentimentalist. Once that deadline passed, she found a new tenant and arranged to have the place cleared out.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Jon Prime’s voice sounds ragged.

“It never really came up,” Martin Prime says, sounding a bit tired himself. “By the time I saw you again, I’d found a new place anyway, and I just…nobody ever asked me why I moved and it seemed easier not to say anything. There was kind of a lot going on.”

“All right, I—I suppose that’s fair, but…” Jon Prime trails off.

Sasha hears Tim take a deep breath. “Right, well, we’ll do better than that for our Martin, don’t worry. Maybe you can help us convince him he deserves it. Anyway, you two look like you’re about ready to drop, so I’ll let you get some sleep and finish grilling you tomorrow. Bathroom’s right across the hall if you need it.”

“Thank you, Tim,” Jon Prime says softly. “I mean it.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

Sasha hurriedly steps away from the door and moves to the linen closet at the end of the hallway. A moment or two later, Tim joins her. “Need a hand?”

“I just thought I’d get the spare blankets and pillows,” Sasha says. “You know, so it feels a little more like we’re really sleeping. How were you planning to handle that in the Archives, by the way?”

Tim has the grace to look sheepish. “Okay, so it was an impulse. Sue me. We’d have probably ended up in a pile on the floor or something.”

“I suppose there are worse ways to sleep than in a cuddle pile with my two best friends.” Sasha nudges Tim, who laughs. “Like…alone, on a cot in the Archives.”

“I still can’t believe we let him do that for so long. We are horrible friends.” Tim glances over his shoulder, his expression suddenly pinched. Sasha wonders if she should admit that she heard his whole conversation with the Primes, but decides, on the balance, nah. “I mean, Jon I understand, he was still pretending he hated us.”

Sasha snorts and pulls out an armful of soft things. “Not very well.”

It at least brings a smile back to Tim’s face. “Well, I mean, you and I already knew it was an act. It’s just Martin who probably didn’t know.”

“Martin would have quit if he really thought Jon didn’t like him,” Sasha says, although she’s not altogether sure that’s true. Between the fact that he falsified most of his credentials to get the job at the Institute to begin with and the fact that he’s the sole support for a chronically ill mother, he probably would have put up with a lot worse than a boss that hated him. “Or at least asked to be transferred back to the library.”

“What, and leave us to the mercies of the Archives?” Tim grins. “C’mon, grab the spare pillows and let’s go make everybody comfortable.”

True to Tim’s prediction, Martin has fallen asleep by the time they get back into the living room, although in a way that doesn’t make it seem like he’s under very deep, or at least that he’s not comfortable enough to stay asleep easily. Jon is kneeling on the floor in front of him, carefully working his shoes off his feet. He looks up when they come in, obviously flustered and embarrassed. “I didn’t notice he’d dropped off until a minute ago,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sasha isn’t surprised, considering he was avoiding making eye contact, but she doesn’t say that out loud. “I mean, it’s been a long day, and he’s probably in a lot of pain.”

Tim dumps his load on the coffee table. “Here, you get the lever and I’ll ease the back down so he doesn’t fall too hard. Don’t want to wake him, but sitting upright all night isn’t going to help him.”

Sasha wonders, as she sets down her own burden, how much of this is Tim trying to atone for what their counterparts did to Martin Prime and how much of it is him genuinely worrying about their Martin, but she’s not going to ask because that would mean revealing she was eavesdropping. Instead, she selects a pillow and blanket and starts setting them up on the love seat while she watches Tim and Jon try to ease the footrest out and the back to a reclining position without jostling Martin awake. He must be really tired, though, because although his face screws up briefly and he makes a soft sound, he doesn’t otherwise react. Once he’s lying down, Jon leans over and carefully slides Martin’s glasses off of his face, then folds them and sets them on the end table between the recliner and the sofa.

He turns around, presumably to get a blanket, and starts when he sees Sasha making up a bed. “Here, you don’t have to—you’re taller than I am, you should—”

“Only by a bit,” Sasha interrupts. “Two or three inches isn’t going to make that much of a difference, and I sleep curled up anyway.” She also sleeps like the dead, and judging by the way Tim and Jon are fussing over Martin without making it obvious, she guesses they’re more concerned about Martin than she is. Which isn’t to say that she isn’t worried about him, only that she’s a bit more detached from the situation, for whatever reason. If anything happens to Martin in the middle of the night, she won’t wake up and hear it, and they’re more likely to jump up to do something about it anyway, so there’s no reason for her to stay near him. She doesn’t say that out loud, though.

“I…” Jon hesitates, then glances back at Martin, and his face softens in a way Sasha pretends not to notice so she won’t be tempted to pick at it. “All right. T-Tim, are you sure—”

“Yep. The floor and I are good friends. I’ve done a lot of camping and backpacking and the like, so I’m used to it.” Tim grins. “Pick a pillow and a blanket.”

Jon looks over the offerings on the table, then selects a faded patchwork quilt and unfolds it carefully. Somehow, Sasha isn’t surprised when he drapes it over Martin and tucks him in gently, almost tenderly, before turning back and taking another blanket along with a pillow. The blanket, to Sasha’s eye, looks as if it’s made of fiberglass and horsehair, but Jon runs his fingers over the pattern almost reverently. “Where did you find this?”

“California, I think,” Tim answers. “Maybe Mexico. My grandparents left me a bit of a legacy when they died, with the stipulation that I use it for a gap year in ‘the mountains’. It was that vague. I think my folks expected me to pick the Alps or the Pyrenees, maybe the Sierra Morena if I felt like being different. Something close to home, anyway. But I thought, hey, when am I ever going to get a chance like this again? Spent my whole last year of school planning and budgeting, and two days after graduation I was off to America. The start of the Pacific Crest Trail is right on the border with Mexico, and there was a market there, people selling handcrafts and the like. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra blanket. I was right, too.”

“Does it mean something to you, Jon?” Sasha asks, curious. “The pattern, I mean?” She’s seen people trace the lines of relics and books like that when touching something that looks familiar but isn’t, and there’s an oddly thoughtful look on Jon’s face.

“Sort of?” Jon looks up. He truly does look tired, which is odd, considering he wasn’t the one running from worms. “I—my mother’s sister married an American. Well, he was Mexican-American. My cousin had a blanket like this on his guest bed, he said his grandmother made it for him.”

Tim begins making up a bed on the floor with the remaining blankets. He does so with a practiced ease that tells Sasha he truly has done this plenty of times before. “You’ve been to America, then? Or does your cousin live over here?”

“No, he’s in New Mexico. Or he was the last time we spoke. It’s been a few years.” Jon bends over and begins untying his shoes. “I didn’t—exactly take a gap year, but I did take some time off and go to visit him. He and his parents, or at least my aunt, used to come over and visit for a week or two every summer, so I thought I’d repay him by returning the visit. Ended up staying through to the end of the year.”

“Didn’t make it to New Mexico when I was there.” Tim turns to Sasha. “How ‘bout you, Sash? Ever been to America?”

Sasha shakes her head. “Closest I’ve come was getting to go onto one of their military bases in Ansbach. My family was on holiday in Germany and a boy asked me if I’d be his date to a holiday party. Evidently I was the only girl his age who spoke English he ran into who wasn’t already going with someone else.”

“We’ll all have to go sometime,” Tim says. “Close the Archives down for a couple weeks, the four of us can fly over and do the tourist thing.”

“I doubt Elias would go for that,” Jon says dryly, straightening up. “I barely was able to convince him to let us have a day or two off while the cleaning crews come in and get rid of the worm carcasses. Unless we manage to somehow convince him we’re doing research and that I need all of you with me, he’d likely insist at least one of us stay back.”

“Then we’ll sneak off,” Tim declares. “Leave the Institute on a Friday night, promise to see him Monday. Slip away under the cover of darkness, take a taxi to the airport, buy tickets under assumed names and catch a midnight flight. By the time he realizes we’re not coming in on Monday, we’ll be well dug in somewhere in America. He’ll never think to look for us there.”

“And then we’ll get fired the minute we set foot back in the Institute,” Sasha says.

“Nah, not us. Who’d take our place? Especially now? He’d have to hire from the outside and lie about the conditions. Worst we’ll have to endure is a lecture. ‘I am sorely disappointed in all of you, leaving the Archives in such a state and going on holiday. We won’t discuss this further, but I will have to refuse any further time off requests you make for the remainder of the year.’”

Sasha presses a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles. “Shh, you’ll wake Martin.”

“What do you say, Boss?” Tim asks, undeterred. “Team Archives in America? Debunking ghosts and solving mysteries? Rent a technicolor cargo van and adopt a Great Dane?”

The corners of Jon’s mouth twitch upwards in a smile. “Actually, the idea of going on a trip with the three of you is, strangely enough, not an altogether unwelcome one. God knows I haven’t taken a holiday in ages.”

“Your enthusiasm is boundless,” Tim says dryly. He kicks off his shoes and sits down on the blanket nest he’s built. “Hey, maybe the Primes will cover for us. They can pretend to be you and Martin and just Sasha and I can take the time off.”

“I think it’s a bit obvious they’re not us. Especially now.” Jon looks over at Martin. “I—I am sorry. I should have been there. I should have…it should have been me. Not any of you.”

Tim sighs, the smirk melting off his face. “Well, according to your counterparts, Martin was the only one who didn’t get…wormed the first time, so maybe you not being there means fewer people got hurt.”

“While I’m not ungrateful that you and Sasha weren’t hurt, Tim, it doesn’t make me feel any better for not…being there to help. Not even knowing.”

“Yeah, well…it was spur of the moment, sort of. And I deliberately didn’t tell you. Figured you wouldn’t…I don’t know, want to stay? Encourage us to stay? I mean, like you told Martin, it is still technically where we work, even if he was living there for a while.”

Jon looks pained. “I…in truth, I probably wouldn’t have wanted you all to stay, but not…Elias thought I was overreacting anyway, having Martin living there. I’d have probably come up with some ridiculous reason why you shouldn’t stay, but really it would have boiled down to the fear that if Elias found out we were all staying, he might order Martin out, and I—I thought that would put him in danger.”

“Well, if you believe what Martin Prime apparently told him, he wasn’t really what she was after,” Sasha points out. The last couple of words are swallowed by a yawn.

“I don’t know what I believe, Sasha.” Jon sighs heavily and takes off his glasses. “Let’s…table this discussion for the morning, shall we?”

“Sounds good. Tomorrow, then.” Tim yawns and burrows into his blankets.

Sasha curls up on the love seat. She figures she’ll lie there until she’s sure the others are asleep, then get up and do some investigating on her laptop, but to her mild surprise, she drifts off almost as soon as her eyes close.

#ollie writes fanfic #the magnus archives #tma #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#in which a whole lot of nothing appears to happen #enjoy the mental image of Team Archives as the Scooby Gang #Jon is Shaggy #Tim is Fred #Sasha is Daphne #Martin is Velma #I will fight you on this

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gilmores-glorious-blog · 4 years

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Coder Boyfriends Quarantine Fic

I wrote this months ago and never finished it... so yeah take this somewhat complete work. Maybe if enough of y’all like it I’ll write more. Also I’m too lazy to come up with a real title :)

They were two weeks into quarantine, and Tobin was officially stuck with a ferret. And it wasn’t even his ferret.

“What are we going to do about this, dude?” He asked Leif one morning, flopping down at their kitchen table and staring at the stupid little creature in his cage across from them.

“There’s nothing we can do. Colin is stuck with his family in New York, and we promised we would take care of him.”

“Yeah, for a week! Not for six freaking months!”

“Tobes, you have a commitment to this thing. You have to watch out for it. So for now, you are officially a ferret daddy,” Leif said while holding back a smirk.

Tobin just glared at his friend.

“I don’t think ferrets are supposed to live in bird cages for months on end.” Leif commented from his spot on the couch. Tobin was busy rearranging the ferret’s living space to accommodate for him being a long term resident.

“Yeah, well, I don’t just have ferret cages laying around.” Tobin snapped.

“Why do you have a bird cage laying around?!”

“I-” Tobin started.

“Hold on.” Leif pulled out his phone. “I think I’m going to want this on tape.”

“For your vlog?” Tobin asked mockingly.

“The viewers need to know.” Leif cleared his throat and put on a dramatic announcer voice. “So tell us, Tobin, why do you have a bird cage laying around?”

Tobin rolled his eyes. “A few years ago, I got a pet bird. After two weeks of having said bird, I decided I wasn’t cut out for bird ownership so I… I gave the bird away.” Tobin hoped his hesitation wasn’t visible on camera. He hadn’t actually given the bird away. He let it free, but moments after realized it was definitely not a native species. It’s haunted him ever since.

Tobin snaps out of his bird-guilt to see Leif cackling on the couch. “I had forgotten about that! Dude, you were so bad at taking care of that stupid thing, I’m suprised it didn’t just die.” Leif glances over to where Greyskull the ferret was sitting. “Let’s hope the same thing won’t happen with the ferret.”

“It won’t.” He’s determined to make certain of that.

“Good.” Leif turns off the camera and puts his phone away before leaning back and watching Tobin continue to move ferret equipment around. Tobin could feel his eyes tracking him, and he had to fight back a blush. He glanced over at his best friend, who was watching with a smile smile that Leif reserved only for Tobin.

Tobin quickly turned around as he felt his cheeks warming. The beginning of months of quarantine probably wasn’t the greatest time for your best friend to find you’ve been in love with him for years.

“Tobes hurry up!” Leif called. “The work call starts in five minutes!”

“I still don’t see why we can’t do this from two different computers.” Tobin replied from his bedroom, rushing to make himself look presentable.

“Because it’s stupid, bro. Everyone knows we live together, and it’s going to get annoying if we’re just talking over each other from different rooms.”

“Okay, fair.” Tobin slides down the hallway and collapses on the couch. He very nearly crashes into Leif, but he manages to stop himself, luckily.

They log on to the zoom meeting, and Tobin has to stop himself from thinking about how couple-y they look on the camera. Jesus christ dude, you need to stop pining, he tells himself.

Joan lets them onto the call, and there’s an awkward minute where it’s just her and the two of them. Leif is staring at the ground and Joan staring at her wall. Against all better judgement, Tobin makes a sarcastic comments.

“Lover’s quarrel, huh?” He regrets it as soon as Leif turns to look at him with hurt in his eyes. He’s about to apologize when Zoey and Max join the call.

“Hey guys!” Zoey says, and suddenly Joan and Leif perk up.

“Hi Red, ‘sup Max!” Tobin says, ignoring Leif’s stiff body beside him.

“So Tobin, I hear you’re stuck with a ferret.” Max comments, holding back a laugh.

Tobin whips around, staring at Leif. “Max watches your vlog?!”

Leif just shrugs. “I gave him the password a while back, figured it couldn’t hurt.”

“Now the whole office gets a glimpse into my private life!” Tobin didn’t know why he was upset about this. He was a pretty open person, he barely shut up about his private life at work anyway.

“Hey, it’s my private life. You just happen to live with me. Why are mad about this?” Leif’s eyes flicked briefly to the computer screen, where it was still just Max, Zoey, and Joan, staring awkwardly at the interaction.

Just as the boys were staring daggers at each other, ready to keep fighting, Joan spoke up.

“Lover’s quarrel, huh?” The sarcasm and pride in her voice was obvious.

“Wh- I- no!” Tobin stammered, not daring to look at Leif. He stared at the screen, where he saw Max mouth lovers? to Zoey, who promptly elbowed him in the ribs.

Luckily, right then, a bunch of the other SPRQ point employees joined the call, and the five who were previously there ignored the argument from before as they talked about work things.

Tobin payed no attention to what was happening, he was too busy staring at Leif from the corner of his eye. Leif didn’t seem mad anymore, just his normal awkward and nerdy self as he talked about the coding projects they were planning to start from home. He laughs at something Max says, and Tobin fights back a smile. Nothing makes him happier than hearing Leif laugh. He notices that his friend’s hair is already getting longer after three weeks stuck at home. It’s curlier, more floppy in the front. He also hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his mini-beard is adorable. Tobin briefly thinks about how much he wants to run his hands through that hair, but then remembers they’re on a work call and he should probably stop that train of thought right there.

Before he knows it, the call is over. Hopefully he didn’t miss too much, but if he did, he can always ask Leif.

Leif, however, gets up silently and moves toward the kitchen. Suddenly Tobin remembers the argument they were having. He shoots up from the couch and rushes towards the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, bro.”

“Sorry for what?” Leif asks, clearly playing dumb.

“For saying that thing about you and Joan. For getting upset about the vlog thing. For…” Tobin pauses before finishing, “... for what Joan said about us.”

“Ah,” Leif says, holding tight to the glass he’s grabbed from the counter. Neither of them say anything for a moment, and the silence is deafening to Tobin.

“Look dude, I’m really sorry. I know I shouldn’t have brought up the thing with Joan, I know you’re still pining over her or whatever-”

“I’m not,” Leif interrupts.

You’re not? There’s a flutter of hope in Tobin’s stomach, but he pushes it down. “Well, regardless, I shouldn’t have said that. And I don’t know why I got so upset about Max watching your vlog. I guess I’m just self-conscious sometimes, no matter how much I act the opposite. And I like having moments that are just between the two of us sometimes.” Tobin really hopes Leif didn’t read into that last part the way he just did as he said it.

“That makes sense.” Leif bites his lower lip before adding, “what about the last part?”

“What?”

“The last part of your apology. About what Joan said.”

“Uh, I guess she just said it because she was mad at me for saying it about you guys? She saw an opportunity and she took it. She probably only said it because we were arguing like an old married couple. Not that we act like an old married couple. We don’t. It’s just, y’know, we live together, and we were arguing, so we’ve got those two key ‘old married couple’ traits down. But not any of the other ones, not like being in love or married or a couple-”

“Jesus, Tobes, take a breath.” Leif chuckled. “It’s totally fine that she said that, I just was wondering what you thought about it.”

“Oh?” Tobin fights the urge to melt into the floor as a way to forget everything he just said.

“Yeah. Like you said, we live together, plus we’re both bi, so there’s not really any offense in the joke.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, totally.” Tobin still feels like melting into the floor. He’s saved from doing that, however, when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

“It’s from Zoey.” He says, mostly to himself. He’s a bit confused. Zoey doesn’t text him much, and when she does it definitely not to say We need to talk. “I think I should answer this.” Tobin walks into his room and locks the door, leaving a confused Leif behind him.

“Hey?” Tobin had barely begun to dial the phone when Zoey answered.

“Hi Tobin.”

“Hi?” Tobin’s even more confused than he was before.

“How are you doing?” Zoey’s voice is strained.

“I’m fine?” Tobin can deal with a few more polite greetings before he snaps and asks Zoey what the heck is up.

“How are things with Leif?” Zoey asks, sounding nervous, which makes Tobin nervous. What is she thinking about me and Leif?

“Good, good. Just chillin’ in quarantine, y’know.” Tobin’s started to pace around his room now.

“Cool.” There’s a long silence from Zoey’s end.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, you know, sometimes when people, uh, spend a lot of time together…” Zoey trails off and Tobin can almost picture her gesturing vaguely.

“Yeah?” Tobin prompts.

“When people spend a lot of time together… sometimes feelings can develop.” Zoey finishes.

Tobin ignores the pit in his stomach and decides to play dumb. “I’m not going to murder Leif, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“What?! No! I mean…” He can hear Zoey take a deep breath. “Tobin are you in love with Leif?”

Tobin hangs up.

She calls again.

He declines.

She calls again.

He declines.

She texts him.

He blocks her number.

Tobin collapses on his bed. How the hell did she know? It’s not like he and Zoey are best buds. There was that one time she helped him out with the Spelliversary drama, but that’s the extent of their close conversations. And now she hasn’t seen him in weeks, and it only takes one zoom call for her to figure out he’s been in love with Leif for fifteen years?! He screams into his pillow before flopping over and staring at his ceiling. His eyes trace the stars stuck to the wall, flitting over the sharpied-in constellations, and trying desperately not to think about Leif or Zoey.

There’s a knock on his door. “Tobes?”

Tobin just groans.

The knocking intensifies. “Tobin, please open the door.” Tobin really doesn’t want to, but there’s a desperation in Leif’s voice that he can’t say no to.

He flops off the bed and unlocks the door. “What is it, bro?”

Leif hands his phone to Tobin. “Zoey ne-”

Tobin slams the door in his face.

Before he has time to lock it, however, Leif tries to open it again. Tobin makes a worthy fight against his weight and the door, but eventually his taller friend manages into the room. Leif closes and locks the door and hands the phone to Tobin.

“Talk.” He says.

Tobin sighs. “Fine.” He gestures to the door. “Leave.”

“What? No! Dude, you think I trust you to be alone with my phone? I don’t want you seeing everything that’s on there. Plus, you’ll just hang up again, and I for one don’t want my manager’s number blocked on my phone.”

Tobin tries desperately to think of something to say, any reason for Leif to leave other than the truth. But he can’t. And the longer he waits, the more suspicious he seems. So he puts the phone to his ear.

“Oh hey Zoey, what’s up?”

“Ok I really want to take the time to be mad at you for blocking my number, but I don’t have the time and Max is mouthing at me to get to the point.”

“Uh huh, okay.” Tobin is trying to act nonchalant.

“So… are you in love with Leif?” She asks and Tobin prays to any and every existing deity that Leif can’t hear through the phone.

Tobin isn’t sure what to do. He’s strangely scared of Zoey, in all of her five foot tall, quarantined miles away from him, glory. Something about her is making him want to tell the truth. Time for Tobin to pull out those rusty acting skills from when Leif convinced him to do the high school play.

“Uh, yeah, I love watermelon. Why do you ask?” Tobin tries not to cringe as Leif looks at him confused. Watermelon?!

“Tobin, what the-”

He interrupts her. “Leif’s here too, do you wanna ask what he thinks?”

He hears Zoey gasp through the other line. “Ohhh. Um, so, you love Leif. Watermelon. Whatever. How long have you liked him? Are you gay? I didn’t know you were gay. I’m asking too many questions. Sorry. This is hard to do over the phone.”

Tobin sighs. “I’ve been a fan of watermelon since high school.”

“High school?! That’s a long time.”

“It sure is.” Tobin tries not to stare at Leif, now distractedly fiddling with trinkets on Tobin’s cluttered desk. “Oh and since you asked, I don’t just… love watermelon. I’m also a fan of… grapes.” Tobin hopes this isn’t too confusing of a metaphor for bisexuality for Zoey to grasp.

“So you’re bi?” Zoey asks, catching on. Guess she’s smarter than Tobin thought, although considering she manages their company, he probably should have figured that out.

“Yeah.” Tobin can’t believe he’s coming out to Zoey Clarke, of all people. And in the worst possible way, too.

“Cool, cool. So are you planning on telling Leif?”

“No. Too much work, dude. Don’t want to fuck things up, y’know?”

“I know it’s not my place to say so-” Tobin scoffs. It wasn’t her place to ask about this in the first place. “- but I really think you should tell him. It might make things easier, you wouldn’t have to hide your feelings. Then you can… you can love him with no strings attached.”

Tobin freezes for a moment. That sounds familiar. But he can’t remember how right now, and he’s too concerned with other more pressing issues to think of it.

“I’ll think about it.” He says, lying. He won’t even consider telling Leif. He’s gone on pining for fifteen years, where’s the fun in stopping now?

“Good. That’s good, Tobin. I’m glad you told me.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” He mumbles. Zoey chooses to ignore this.

“Hey, how about you unblock my number and we can talk some more when Leif’s not there. Only if you want to, of course.” She adds the last part on as an afterthought, seeming to remember that forcing people to talk about their secret gay crushes probably isn’t the smartest idea.

“Sure. Thanks, Zoey. Bye.” He hangs up. Scared, he looks up at Leif, now sitting on Tobin’s desk (that gay disaster).

“What the hell was that about, bro?” Leif asks.

“Oh, just… y’know… girl things.” And with that, Tobin leaves his room.

Leif doesn’t bring up the phone call again until after dinner, when Tobin is preparing popcorn for their movie night.

“So dude,” Leif calls from the couch. “What was that call with Zoey about?”

“I told you already.”

“No you did not! ‘Girl things’ is not a valid answer.”

Tobin brings himself and the popcorn to the couch, sitting down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Please…” Leif turns to Tobin and rests his head on his shoulder, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Tobin shoves Leif off of him. “That’s not fair, man, you know I can’t resist you when you give me that face.”

Leif smiles. “Exactly. Come on, man, it can’t be that bad. And no matter how good of an actor you think you are, I know that it wasn’t about watermelon. There’s no way you blocked our boss’ number over watermelon.”

Tobin tries desperately to think of something believable that’s not the truth. “She wanted help with relationship advice.”

Leif looks concerned. “Is everything ok with her and Max?”

“Oh yeah, they’re fine it was about… her brother.”

“I thought her brother was married?”

Damn Leif for knowing so much about Zoey’s personal life. “He is! Her older brother, that is. Her younger brother is unmarried and struggling with dating.”

“And she asked you about this?”

“Don’t look so surprised, bro. There’s just something about me that makes people want to open up to me about romance.” Tobin waggles his eyebrows at his friend.

“I’ve known you since third grade and I’ve never once wanted to open up to you about romance.”

“That’s bullshit, man. I was the one who helped you realize you were bi. That’s helping you with romance if I ever saw it.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to. You were just my only friend, and therefore my only option. If I had a choice I would have chosen someone way cooler than you to open up to.”

Tobin glares at him. “Just shut up and watch this movie with me.”

***

Leif knew Tobin was lying. He knew Tobin, and he knew Zoey, and he knew that there was no way the two of them would join forces for relationship advice. But he also knew when Tobin was getting anxious, and he could tell his friend was not ready to tell Leif the truth. So he doesn’t press it.

Leif has an interesting relationship with movie night. On one hand, he loves it. Curling up on the couch with popcorn and his best friend to watch a cheesy movie? That’s basically heaven to Leif. Although heaven might have a few more sketchbooks, and Bob Ross videos, and cardigans, and pretty people complimenting his genius.

One the other hand, movie night was hell for Leif. Tobin always made obnoxious commentary, and threw popcorn at the screen, and laughed way too hard at funny scenes, and cried at emotional scenes.

And it was simple things like this that made Leif fall more in love with Tobin. So movie night was basically a weekly reminder for Leif that he was absolutely whipped for his best friend and had done nothing about that fact for over ten years.

Halfway through the movie, Leif starts feeling tired. In all honesty, he’s only a little bit tired. But he always plays it up so that every movie night he’s overcome with exhaustion and has no choice but to fall asleep on Tobin’s lap or shoulder.

Okay, so maybe he has a bit of a problem. But hell, this is the only opportunity Leif has to cuddle with Tobin and he will exploit it to the best of his ability, damn it!

So Leif lays his head on his friend’s shoulder, smiling as he doses off, lost in the smell of Tobin’s hoodie.

“Tobes, I’m going fucking insane.” Leif announces, collapsing on their kitchen table.

“Ok. What else is new?” Tobin asks him from where he’s sitting eating cereal.

Leif lifts his head a bit. “I’m not kidding. It’s been six weeks of this shit and it’s still only the beginning. I’m way ahead in work so I have nothing to do, I’ve been drawing more than I ever have and my hand is cramping from filling two sketchbooks already, my hair is longer than I’ve ever wanted it to be, and this damn ferret is driving me crazy!”

Tobin nods. “I see. Well, this will take care of the hair problem for you.” He hands Leif what appears to be a hot pink sparkly scrunchie.

Leif takes it tentatively. “What on earth is this?”

“What does it look like? It’s a scrunchie. I’m already rocking one, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Only then does Leif look up fully and realize that Tobin is, in fact, ‘rocking’ a scrunchie. His long brown hair is half-tied up in a weird Sokka-from-Avatar-the-Last-Airbender type look.

“You look absolutely ridiculous.” Leif says. And cute, he thinks, but would never admit out loud. Because it’s weirdly true- the neon green hair tie look somehow makes Tobin even cuter.

“And you can too! Just wear it, at least your hair will stop falling in your eyes.”

“I’m not wearing it. Why do you even have these?” Leif hands the scrunchie back to Tobin, who puts it around his wrist.

“Believe me, bro. You do not want to know.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Leif stands to get himself a bagel.

“Oh and by the way, don’t you dare disrespect my son, Sir Greyskull the Brave.” Tobin stares lovingly at the ferret.

Leif rolls his eyes. “I miss start of quarantine Tobin, who wouldn’t shut up about how much he hated the ferret.”

“Leif, don’t be rude. He’s grown on me, and he should grow on you too.”

“I’m never going to let a ferret grow on me.” Leif remarks as he returns to the table with his bagel. “But seriously, dude, I need things to do.”

“Okay…” Tobin looks contemplative. “How about after we both finish work for the day, we play some old-fashioned, kids-sleepover party games, just the two of us. You know, truth or dare, two truths and a lie, never have I ever, stuff like that. But since we’re not kids, we can play it the fun way: with booze.”

Leif realizes the endless ways this could go wrong- getting drunk with your crush and playing truth or dare? That’s a high-school level bad decision right there. But he’s too bored to say no.

“Sounds good to me.”

Leif, of course, finishes work around four in the afternoon. Tobin, on the other hand, has been procrastinating his work for weeks and still isn’t done by seven. So Leif decides to fix dinner. Might as well have a nice meal together before they get absolutely wasted and Leif admits things he doesn’t want to admit.

Tobin finally comes out of his room a little before eight, just as Leif is setting the stirfry he made on the table.

“Oh, sweet, food!” Tobin sits down and starts eating.

“Yes, I figured I might at least do something with the hours I’ve spent waiting for you to finish.”

“Hey!” Tobin says with a mouth full of food. “At least I did the work!”

“That’s true, but if you had done any of the work throughout the week, you wouldn’t have to spend so long on it.”

“Yeah, well, where’s the fun in that?”

Leif sits down and takes a bite. “Oh, of course, how could I forget. Nothing screams fun like putting work off until the last possible minute.”

“See, this is why you went to some fancy college while I went to jail!”

Leif stares at him. “One of those things is considerably better than the other, and I’ll tell you right now, it’s not jail.”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? We both have the same job, and you’re only a little bit higher ranking than me. But let’s be real, that’s probably only because you fucked the boss.”

“Shut up.” Leif says, and he means it. He hates when Tobin brings up his whole fling with Joan. It’s been over a year, and Leif has made it abundantly clear that he’s over it and doesn’t want to talk about it, but Tobin doesn’t listen. Nothing’s worse than the guy you love constantly bringing up your bad past relationships.

“I’m not wrong though-”

“Tobes.” Leif looks up from his plate. “Please just drop it.”

“Okay! I’m sorry I brought it up, I was just trying to make a joke.”

“Whatever. Just… don’t do it again.”

They eat in silence for a while, and Leif’s worried that he’s crushed the vibe of the evening.

“So, Tobes, how much are you planning to drink tonight?”

“All of it.” Tobin replies.

“All of our alcohol?” It’s not that it’s that much- they don’t keep a lot of drinks at home, since they usually just go out to bars. But they can’t do that anymore.

“Yep. It’s been too long since I’ve been drunk.”

“Okay, you make a fair point, but I raise you this point: if you drink all we have right now, you have to suffer however many more months we’re stuck in here sober.”

Tobin pauses for a minute- he clearly hadn’t thought of that. “Ah, fuck that. We can buy more online or something. Live in the moment, bro.”

Right. Live in the moment. Leif gulps. This isn’t going to end well.

Well, Leif was definitely living in the moment. At least, that would explain why he’s opening his mouth and asking Tobin, “ok, ok. What’s… what’s a secret you’ve never told anyone before?”

Leif lifts his head from where it’s laying on the couch so he can judge Tobin’s reaction. It’s three hours after dinner and they’re both plastered.

“Uh…” Tobin takes a while to respond, and Leif can’t tell if he’s nervous about the question or just too drunk to think.

When Tobin still doesn’t respond, Leif starts to panic. He may be drunk but he can still remember how stupid a question that is to ask your crush.

“Oh! I’ve got it!” Tobin finally answers. “So… y’know the bird I had? For two weeks?” His words are slurred.

“Yeah?” Leif is both relieved and disappointed that the answer is about a bird.

“I didn’t give it away.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t give it away like I said I did. I set it free.”

Leif pauses for a moment, then bursts into laughter. “You set it free?! Dude, that’s an exotic bird!”

“Well I realize that now!”

“Tobes, what if you accidentally created a mutant species of a tropical bird and a-whatever birds live in San Francisco! You could be famous but for, like, a really bad reason.” Leif can’t stop laughing.

“I know that! I’ve been haunted by my actions for years! That’s why I’ve never told anyone!”

“Bro, how are you sober enough to say haunted by my actions? That’s fancier than you usually talk, let alone after however many drinks you’ve had.”

“Maybe the alcohol powers me. I should have it more often.”

“Yes, do, maybe you’ll admit more bird-related crimes.” Leif says, still through fits of giggles. He slowly sits up and flops on the other side of the couch, his head almost touching Tobin’s legs.

“I really hope you don’t remember this tomorrow morning.”

“Oh I will. Trust me, I will.”

“It’s my turn to ask a question, right?” Tobin asks.

“Yeah, though I doubt you can get me to admit something that will top your bird confession.”

“Well, what about you?” Tobin asks suddenly.

“What about me?”

“What’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?”

And maybe it’s just for Leif, maybe the drink is going to his brain, but it seems to him that the whole mood shifts dramatically as Tobin says that.

He has an answer, of course. And the part of his brain that’s still sober knows he can’t say it out loud.

But a much larger part of his brain is drunk, and drunk Leif tends to speak impulsively. Drunk Leif tends to do things like sing an Air Supply song to his ex.

Drunk Leif is opening his mouth.

Drunk Leif is saying, “I’m in love with you.”

There’s a long pause, and the realization of what he just did is setting in. Leif sits up and turns so he’s face to face with Tobin, who has a blank expression.

Finally, he speaks. “... well that tops my bird confession.”

“Tobin, I-”

Leif doesn’t have time to finish before his friend is kissing him.

Sober Leif would pull away. Sober Leif would talk through his feelings, and ask Tobin how he felt, and take things slow.

But Sober Leif isn’t here.

Which possibly explains how the next thing he knows, it’s morning, and he’s still on the couch. And Tobin is sleeping on top of him. And neither of them are wearing a shirt.

Well, shit.

Leif tries to move out from under Tobin without waking him, because he’s currently far more concerned with his throbbing headache than the fact that he made out with his best friend last night.

Of course, Tobin wakes up anyway. He stares sleepy-eyed at Leif, who’s putting on his crumpled up shirt.

“Where- what-” Tobin looks around before running his hand through his bedhead. “Fuck, did we-”

“I’m going to get some food and water.” Leif says, not looking at Tobin. He goes to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water, but Tobin is still talking despite Leif’s obvious signs that he doesn’t want to talk.

“Dude, come back here, we should tal-”

“I’m going to check my email.” Leif says, rushing into his room and locking the door behind him.

Leif falls on the bed and screams into a pillow.

Fuck!

He’s tempted to just close his eyes and fall back asleep, ignoring the pain and the consequences of his actions.

And he may have done just that, had it not been for the incessant knocking at his door.

“Go away!” Leif shouts, still muffled by the pillow.

“Dude, just open the door. You’re acting immature.” Had Leif not been so hungover, he would have laughed at that. He’s the immature one?!

He continues to ignore Tobin, and once again almost dozes off but then he hears the door swing open.

He sits up very slowly and turns around. “How did you get in here? I locked the door!”

Tobin holds up a paper clip and grins. “I hacked into the CIA, do you really think I wouldn’t know how to pick a lock?”

“Well, you’ve never done it before, how was I to know?”

“That’s because,” Tobin sits on the corner of Leif’s bed. “I usually try to give you your privacy. But I thought that this situation was more important than your privacy.”

“Gee, thanks.” Leif sits up a bit more, clutching to the bedsheets to avoid getting dizzy. “You seem surprisingly sober.” Leif remarks.

“Yeah well, I handle my alcohol better than you. Plus I’ve been hungover way more than you, so I’m more used to it. Plus-” Tobin stops talking abruptly and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Plus what?” Leif asks, suddenly also feeling a lot more sober. Tobin doesn’t respond, and the longer the silence between them grows, the more Leif remembers last night’s events. “Tobes, plus what?” He asks again, more desperate this time.

Tobin takes a deep breath. “Plus having the love of your life say he likes you too and kiss you back tends to clear your mind.”

“The… I… what?” Leif can’t process anything that Tobin just said to him.

Tobin looks up at Leif with fear in his eyes. “Okay, well maybe love of my life is a bit dramatic, but it has been fifteen years, so it’s not that far off.”

Leif still doesn’t respond.

“...Oh.” Tobin says in a small voice. “Well, if you don’t actually- if you- if that was just a drunk Leif thing, if you… didn’t mean it… that’s fine.” The way his voice cracks shows that it’s clearly not fine.

Leif thinks his brain is broken.

Tobin stands from the bed and shakily moves towards the door, but luckily Leif’s mind and ability to move kick back in right then.

“Wait!” He tries to stand up but falls on the floor. So much for that ‘ability to move’ thing.

Tobin turns around and despite the hurt expression he’s still wearing, he laughs a bit. “Bro, are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just hungover. And in shock.” Leif stands up again and rubs his head. “But please, wait. Sit back down.”

Tobin does so, even though he still looks like he desperately wants to leave.

“Tobes…” Leif starts. This would be a lot easier to do if he wasn’t in immense amounts of pain. “It wasn’t just a drunk Leif thing. I mean, sober Leif wouldn’t have done it, but that’s just because he’s a coward. It doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it.”

Tobin looks up, a small smile on his face. “Yeah?”

Leif smiles too. “Yeah.”

They both look down, smiles still on their faces, blushing.

“So…” Leif says after a while. “Fifteen years, huh?”

“I… uh, yep.” Tobin says. “Ever since eighth grade, when you showed up to that stupid school dance in that stupid baby blue suit, and tiny Tobin just went ‘shit, do I like guys?’ and then tiny Tobin grew into slightly larger Tobin and went ‘yep, I definitely like guys, specifically the guy who’s been my best friend since third grade’ and then slightly larger Tobin grew into an even bigger Tobin who decided that fact was very embarrassing and he should never tell it to anyone and then even bigger Tobin grew-”

Leif cut him off with a small kiss. “I think I get the point, Even Bigger Tobin.” He says, laughing.

“Oh no, I’m not even bigger Tobin, I’m biggest Tobin. Even bigger Tobin was sometime around college.”

“Of course, my bad.” Leif laughs. He nudges Tobin with his knees. “You’re smitten, you loser.”

“Well you don’t seem very… whatever the opposite of smitten is yourself.”

Leif smiles at him. “I’m not. It’s been a bit over ten years on my end.”

Tobin does a double take. “Over ten years?!”

“Yes?” Leif answers, confused.

“You’re telling me I could have been gettin’ some of this for over ten years?!” Tobin gestures to Leif’s whole body, and Leif tucks into himself, self-conscious.

“I’m not quite sure I would word it like that, but… yeah? I guess?”

“Jesus.” Tobin shakes his head, looking disappointed. “I should have just said something.”

“I should have too.” Leif says quietly. “But hey, it only took me ten years, quarantine, and copious amounts of alcohol.”

“I should get you drunk more often.”

“You don’t need to get me drunk anymore. You have me.”

Tobin smiles. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Tobes?”

“What?”

Leif leans in and kisses him. “Let’s make up for lost time.”

***

“Hey,” Leif starts, sitting down at the table where Tobin is already eating. It’s the day after The Big Confession™, as Tobin has decided to call it.

“Hey?”

“Don’t think that just because we’re dating now it means I’ve forgotten about your secret life as a bird criminal.” Leif smirks at him.

“Oh, geez.” Tobin forgot that he admitted that.

“And I will turn you into the authorities if need be.” Leif adds with a faux-serious face.

“Really? And betray your own boyfriend like that?!” Tobin doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to using that word.

“Sorry, babe. I care more about the good of bird-kind.” Leif stands to get food and stops to kiss Tobin’s forehead. It takes all of Tobin’s self control not to melt.

“Hey, you know we have a work call in an hour, right?” Tobin asks, leaning his head back over his chair so he can see Leif.

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Well, I was just wondering how we act. Y’know, now that… yeah.”

“You have such a way with words.” Leif says sarcastically, returning to the table. “But since you asked, I wasn’t planning on saying anything. They’re our coworkers, they don’t need to know about our dating lives.”

“I just thought I should tell Zoey.”

Leif raises an eyebrow. “Zoey? Out of all the people we work with, Zoey would be the last one I would think to tell.”

“It’s just, she…” Tobin pauses. “Remember the watermelon call?”

“Of course.”

“It wasn’t about watermelon. And it wasn’t about her brother’s dating life, or whatever bullshit excuse I came up with. It was about us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. Zoey asked if I liked you. I still have no idea how she knew, or why she thought it important enough to call me about, but she did. So I feel like I should tell her.”

Leif sighs. “If you want to tell her, go ahead. But I’m never sharing anything with Zoey Clarke unless I’m forced to.”

“Dude, she’s not really that bad, you know. When you and I were in that weird fight, she was actually pretty nice to me, in her own awkward way.”

Leif sighs again. “Yeah, but it’s been fun to have a workplace rivalry for as long as I have. I don’t want to give it up now.”

“Geez, babe, you’re petty.”

“And you’re pretty.” Leif says, staring at him with fondness in his bright blue eyes. Tobin blushes.

“That was barely an opening.”

“And yet…” Leif grabs Tobin’s arm and pulls him in for a kiss. “I took it.”

Tobin doesn’t know why he’s nervous for the call. There’s nothing obviously different about the way he and Leif are sitting or how they look in the camera. It’s the same as last time, squished together awkwardly in front of the camera. Maybe that’s the difference. They don’t look awkward anymore. They look happy to be this close. Is it obvious to others or is Tobin just overanalyzing the situation?

“Tobes, chill out, I’m about to join the call.”

“I’m chill!”

Leif gives him a look. “No you’re not. You do realize it’s going to be way more obvious that something’s up with us if you’re visibly panicking.”

“Fine.” Tobin gestures at the computer. “Start the call.”

Leif does, and this time the only people on are Zoey and Max, since Joan’s not involved with this particular meeting.

“Hi you two!” Zoey says, stopping whatever secret romantic conversation she was having with Max and paying attention to the new members of her call.

“Hi Zoey.” Tobin says tensely, and Leif nudges him subtly, another message for Tobin to chill.

“Hey.” Leif nods at them.

“Anything new with you guys?” Max asks, and Tobin mentally smacks his head, remembering that Max heard him and Zoey’s call, too.

“Uhh…” Leif turns to Tobin and cocks his head.

Tobin knows he said he wanted to tell Zoey about them, but he’s currently regretting saying that.

He decides to go for a subtle approach.

“Not much.” Tobin says, winking, and taking Leif’s hand. He plops his head on Leif’s shoulder and feels his boyfriend relax.

Zoey’s smile is wide. “Not much on our end either.” She says, although she presumably means it.

The rest of the call goes fine, Tobin lifts his head from Leif as soon as someone else joins, and although they keep holding hands under the view of the camera, no one seems to suspect anything.

“Hey,” Tobin says, once again putting his head on Leif’s shoulder as soon as the call is over.

“Hey what?” Leif asks.

“I just thought of a new way we can pass the time.” Tobin says with a smirk.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“This.” Tobin says, moving so he’s sitting on Leif’s lap.

“Oh?” Leif says again, blushing.

Tobin kisses him passionately. Like Leif said, they have a lot of time to make up for. And maybe, just maybe, they can make up fifteen years worth of missed kisses, and soft glances, and tender touches, and exploring each other’s bodies in the dark over the course of months stuck at home together.

***

“Two and a half months. Two and a half months!” Leif shouted to no one in particular. Tobin sticks his head out of their room- yes, their room. A week or so ago they decided it was pointless to have two rooms so Tobin’s room is more of a guest room/office now- and hollers to Leif.

“I swear to god, if I come out there and you’re making more baked goods, I will throttle you!”

Leif smiles to himself. “Is that a threat or a promise?!” He calls back.

He can hear Tobin say. “There’s a time and place, dude.”

“Not in quarantine, there isn’t!”

“You are quite purposefully avoiding my baked goods accusation and I’m coming to the kitchen, so you better be hiding all evidence of cookies!”

Leif doesn’t bother trying to clean up the mess of a kitchen in front of him.

“I knew it!” Tobin shouts, startling Leif.

“I’m sorry, ok! It’s just, baking is fun, and very few things are fun anymore and I need something to do otherwise I’ll go crazy!”

Tobin puts his hands over his ears. “I’m not listening! If I have to clean up flour from this kitchen one more time I’m going to lose it.”

Leif just crosses his arms. “What about that promised throttling?”

Tobin faux-lunges at him, and Leifs arms flash out and pull him in for a kiss.

Tobin pulls away after a moment. “You taste like cookie dough.” He kisses Leif again. “Could be worse, I guess.”

#TAKE IT!!#I AM SO GLAD TO FINALLY BE POSTING THIS #i'm actually pretty proud of it overall #obviously there are a.. lot. of flaws. but considering i wrote it so long ago and still like it?? not bad #coder boyfriends fic #coder boyfriends #coder bfs #tobin batra #leif donnelly #leif x tobin #tobin x leif #zoey's extraordinary playlist #zep #eli.writes #usermickey #this one's for you mickey

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heli0s-writes · 5 years

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V. The damn truth

Summary: What is the damn truth?? AKA time to get those feelings out and stop being weird y'all. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes A/N: So I thought this was the last chapter, but it looks like we got one more, kiddos. More Cincy adventures and another further away. And more Steve time.

Foot in Mouth Syndrome Masterpost

In the morning, you brew coffee and pour it into one mug set out next to two others. You’re surprisingly the first up, senses dulled and head lightly rickety with a loosened brain from last night’s whiskey. Venturing to the garden, you sit cross-legged on a chair and watch Buckeye roam across the grass, rubbing his back over the silky blades still damp with morning dew.

It’s all green and lush under the summer sun as your eyes trail over to the steps leading down, disappearing into the glass sliding door of the lower living room. The tablet tucked under your arm gets propped up on the glass table and you begin to work. Even in summer, it never ends.

I’m a way, you’re glad for it because it keeps you busy and tethered to something resembling a schedule. Would you rather lie in bed with Buckeye eating pretzels watching Netflix? Yeah. But your therapist keeps telling you its not healthy .. so…

Your fingers are clicking away, focused on one window, typing notes into another when the rattling doorknob draws your attention to Steve exiting the house with a mug in his hand, blowing gently on the surface.

“Hey.” He calls, looking up, then greets Buckeye with a scratch on his wet rump.

You give him a smile because you don’t quite know what to say, choosing instead to watch your dog pad off again, as if him sniffing the same spot in the yard is more interesting.

Steve sits down in the bench next to your chair, freshly showered in jeans and a grey t-shirt-- too small, as always. You’re fresh, too, changed into a pale blue jersey romper. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” You reply, but can’t help the way your eyes return to his chest where you rested your head just five hours before.

Last night ended on a solemn note. The two of them went back to their room and you and Buckeye upstairs, all heavy-hearted and tired of reality. You remember dancing, and crying, and kissing. You remember feeling so shredded, thinking about them. You remember Steve’s warm lap and Bucky’s beard rubbing against your palm.

“C’mere,” Steve calls softly, reaching his hand over and tugging on the waistband of your outfit. You comply, carefully balancing the cup in your hand and sit down in his lap again. Your tummy is flipping, because Steve Rogers nuzzles his nose into the back of your neck and wraps his arm around your waist. The denim of his jeans rubs against your thighs as he shifts and sets your coffee cup down.

Change flutters all around you now, after taking flight last night. It hovers and clings, seeping into your skin like the humidity of morning. You’re not sure where or how to begin talking about this strange relationship, because you’ve never entertained the possibility of its arrival.

Yes, Captain America is a thicc ass bitch and you’re hot for him, but Steve Rogers is your friend and you care for him more than you want to see if he’s actually a smooth-crotched Ken Doll. You can’t even start to think about Bucky right now, or else you might cry again.

And certainly, to probe the intricacies of their relationship in order to carve a space for yourself is something so unbearably selfish you would never dream of doing it.

“What—um, what is—” You pause because the rest of this sentence could push your friendship in any way and you’re fearful of every way.

“Don’t think about it too much.” Steve comments as you tense inside of his grasp, “We try not to.” Then, he laughs, “I suppose that doesn’t help you feel better, huh.”

Your arms wrap around yourself and they come to rest on his forearms. “I like what we have. I don’t want to get between what the two of you have. It’s… a massive, wonderful thing-- deep, and—”

Steve shushes you, “Buck and I really do like you. You’re not intruding on anything.” And then, he turns you so that he’s facing your side and not your back. One hand slides up your face and then his mouth is on yours … and is it too stupid to say that when Captain America kisses you, fireworks pop off in your brain and some patriotic tune starts blasting itself in the background?

He tastes like coffee and freedom. Breath warm and sweet like a breeze on the 4th of July— saltwater taffy��and the outdoors. There’s an eagle screeching proudly in the distant void of your mind.

Suddenly, Steve pulls away and you’re sure your face is stuck in some tragically half-frozen mask of sheer dumbstruck.

“Are you humming America the Beautiful right now?” He asks, incredulous.

“Huh.” You respond, dazed, “I thought that was just in my head.”

He tilts back laughing and takes you along with him, your shoulder crashing into his chest and your head knocking into his as you flail, trying to catch yourself. Steve holds on tightly, fingers digging into your arm and thigh—and when the hell did he get fresh and put his hand there? Sly fuck.

“Wanted to do this for a while now.” He grins as he pulls your face down onto his once more. It is a shock to you that Captain America, the Star-Spangled sunofabitch, can kiss like it’s his damn job. His tongue is in your mouth. Your heart feels like a gerbil spinning wildly on a wheel and might burst out of your chest any moment until—

The rattling of the doorknob for a second time this morning catches you off guard. You yank back, fearfully aware that Steve’s spit is glistening on your lips. And goddamn, it is hot.

Bucky joins with a mug of coffee in hand and slides the door shut. He steps past the doormat and plops down on your old seat, crosses his left ankle on his other knee and stares off into the yard as if he’s there alone. As if you’re not pitched over and crushed against his partner’s chest while one of his hands is so high up your thigh it’s practically on your ass.

“Morning,” he grunts, taking a sip of coffee.

“Mornin, Buck.” Steve replies breezily, and you can feel his mouth twist into a smile against your collarbone. “How’s your coffee?”

Bucky takes another sip impassively, “Pretty good. A little burnt. How’s your lap?”

You shoot up and nearly knock the whole table over as you brush your clothes off with a nervous laugh, “Well! I’m going to… Jesus. Christ. Uh. Let’s uh. Meet me at the car in fifteen minutes and we can go get breakfast. Or church. Fuck me with a broom.” Your brain is a bag of ferrets thrown into a dumpster fire.

The door slams shut as you nearly break the entire frame running inside and Steve sends Bucky a shit-eating grin before patting the thigh you were just on top of.

“You gonna come take her place over here, or what?”

—

Breakfast is weird. It’s weird like The Twilight Zone is weird.

You’ve opted to leave your hair down for today, letting as much of it cover your face as possible because if either one of them looks at you, you think you might just combust. You’re ready to go back to being a bastard at any time now, but your nerves are wringing themselves into knots. Another pancake gets cut into a triangle by your fork.

And then Steve steals it right off your plate.

“You candy-ass mother-!” You yelp defensively.

“There she is!” He replies, stuffing it in his mouth and pointing at you with the prongs. Bucky only raises his eyebrow behind a glass of water. “I thought we were past this.” Steve urges.

No, making out on the patio is not equivalent to a conversation about joining a relationship as the fucking third partner, you think. Your eyes say as much as you glare at your plate and then up to Bucky, pleading with him to help you.

“Don’t look at me,” Bucky shrugs, “I wasn’t the one playing tongue hockey with ya.” The fork in your hand clatters as you shove your face in your palms with a groan. Absolute filthy bastard. He’s chomping on hashbrowns open-mouthed as he looks at you expressionlessly. Could anyone be more annoying? Probably not.

“Well, she did tell you she loved you twice.” Steve points out, “So maybe I’m not the one who should be playing tongue hockey with her.” Never mind, apparently Steve can be more annoying. Figures.

The neckline of your romper is now pulled completely over your face until only your hairline is visible. Inside of your albeit thin, but somewhat safe space, you groan as your entire body rises to sweltering degrees.

“You guys are bullies.” You complain.

“What’s that, hon?” Steve asks— and you can just hear him smiling. “Didja say somethin’?”

“I think she called us bullies, Stevie.”

“Bullies?! Sweetheart, you made us listen to Sad n Sexy Santa for two hours on the drive here and would not stop screaming until we let you sing along.”

You’d never imagine Steve Rogers as someone who would so easily distribute pet names like this, but apparently once you cross the bridge of sucking on each other’s face, they don’t stop coming.

Your stomach is fluttering unbearably, but you snark back anyway, “Sad n Sexy Santa is a true effort of musical talent,” you proclaim, still glaring at the darkness under your romper. “Christmas songs sung in a minor key changes both the tune and the connotation of their lyrical content. Have you ever thought that “All I Want For Christmas Is You” could be so unsettling? Didn’t think so!”

A sharp tug is all it takes for your head to return to the world and Bucky’s arm fixes the wide collar so that your bralette isn’t exposed for the entire café to see. “Stop being a baby.” He scolds.

“You !! Baby !” Nice.

They both sit back against the opposite booth, arms crossed, smirking, as you pretend to enjoy your meal under their scrutiny. Oh, how the tables have turned, you lament. This is just divine punishment, after two months of being the most infuriating person to them, now they’re giving you a double dose of your own medicine.

“I love eating breakfast by myself.” You announce out loud, reaching over to take some of Steve’s bacon, “Love getting three plates just for me.”

Bucky’s laugh makes your ears go bright pink the same time your teeth crush the sliver of meat in your hand.

The Cincinnati Zoo returns you to sweeter childhood memories of elementary field trips where the kids went ballistic and the adults spent most of their time counting heads. Your parents never partook in chaperoning, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it.

Today, the weather is overcast, and upon the first drop of rain, Steve goes inside a merchandise store to buy two umbrellas. He returns just a bit too late and there is already a huge downpour, soaking half of Bucky’s arm who’s standing over you, acting as a shield when the awning of the building across the store isn’t enough.

“Get over here!” You’re yelling, tugging on Bucky’s sleeve and stomping your foot, “What’s the point of you getting wet just so I don’t get wet? You’re so stupid!”

Steve watches him relent with a smile as he opens his umbrella and tosses the second one to Bucky. Then, the three of you trek through puddles and make your way to the covered exhibits.

Fiona the hippo is asleep in a little alcove of her aquarium, head tucked away. You explain to them the majesty of Fiona’s sonogram, birth, and her subsequent celebrity, but they don’t understand her like you do. They can’t even see the damn creature, Bucky scoffs, but you glare at him and he rolls his eyes away.

You coo and tut, waggling your finger when her tail flops side-to-side and her back legs kick. When she has a bowel movement in her sleep and it disperses into the very water she’s resting in, you back up and gag, pushing Steve and Bucky away.

“Alright, let’s go look at some other chonkers.” You proclaim as you lead them to the manatees.

Three enormous, alabaster, and smooth-skinned sea cows float serenely in the murky blue. Two of them have green heads of lettuce clenched between their flippers and are chomping away, bits of leaves floating around their heads like vegetable halos.

You press your hand against the glass and sigh. Steve and Bucky step closer, looking down curiously when you wipe at the corner of your eye. “Look at these giant fuckers.” You whisper, “I haven’t known peace like that since I was a fetus.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “God, you’re dramatic.”

It’s quiet in the chamber with only the faint splashing of the rain falling on the water outside and plunking drips from your umbrella onto the concrete floor. Between a family’s departure and before the next one’s arrival, Bucky pushes you up against the glass and kisses you in front of an audience of marine mammals and Steve Rogers’ smirk.

“How’s that for peace?” He mutters, mouth still pressed against yours. Your heart is thumping in your ears like a battle-drum. Bucky snags your bottom lip with his teeth and licks the sting away.

“I think you—” you gulp, feeling your bottom lip snap back into place and giving it a slow suck just to see if it’s still there, “maybe need to consult a dictionary. But—you know, good try...”

They are relentless.

In the café while eating greasy cheese and ham sandwiches and cold vegetables, they take turns knocking their knees into yours, grazing your thighs and legs.

Between the big cats and the painted dogs, Steve squeezes your waist and rests his hand there until you shuffle away.

Under the shelter of a tree by the elephants, Bucky blows on your ear and laughs when you shriek in surprise. Good God Almighty. There are goosebumps all over your skin even though you are burning.

Bucky drives home after deftly fishing the keys out of your bag. He could have thrown a grenade in there and you wouldn’t have noticed, being too distracted by the big and daunting reality of being… whatever it is you are now.

Currently, Steve rides shotgun, glancing back to you once or twice every few minutes as you gaze out the window. The rain only let up a couple of minutes ago as all three of you exhausted every open exhibit at the zoo. Your feet are blistered from the repeated chafing of your toes against the wet front of your sandals, and the bottom of them hurt like the devil.

A tiny buzz alerts you to the phone tucked away in your pocket.

Natasha: So, you guys fucking yet?

Your heart leaps into your mouth.

You: What the fuck!!!! Did you plan this? You have cursed me, Natasha. I am broiling in the deepest layer of hell and they are feasting on my bones you asshole!

Natasha:That’s too kinky even for me. Enjoy being feasted upon. Later.

Steve twists his head around like a goddamn owl and looks at you, “Everything okay?”

You refuse to meet his gaze, “Uh-huh.”

Bucky finds your eyes closed tightly the rear view. “Are you actually shy ?” He ponders, grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. When you say nothing, he continues, “I would have never guessed if I hadn’t seen it first-hand. Today.”

“Be quiet.” You groan.

“Don’t be like that, princess,” he chides, pulling into the driveway. “You’re a pretty good liar.”

“You’re a pretty good liar! Heh!” You sneer back, imitating the way his voice might sound if he inhaled a lungful of helium. When the car stops and Bucky shuts off the engine, he turns around through the middle console and sends you a fanged grin, reminiscent of the way he snarled at you the first time he came to your apartment.

Then he’s out the door, closing it with a quiet bang. Steve whistles lowly and looks over his shoulder, “You’re in for it now.”

Bucky throws you into the pool.

He at least has the decency to take your phone out of your pocket before he chucks you in like a dead fish. Since it’s drizzled all day, the water is cold as all fuck and when it hits your back the shock stifles the scream wrenched from your throat.

You resurface with a shriek, teeth chattering as you break the water and try to swim to the edge. You can barely get your hair out of your face before an enormous splash creates a wave that slams itself on the top of your head. Another cannonball goes into the blue and by the time your eyes are dry enough to see what the fuck is going on, you’re sandwiched between them and the cold slips right out of your skin.

Steve’s hands have faithfully returned to your legs where the opening of your romper floats around in the chilling water. The tips of your toes are pointed, and your mouth is barely above the splashes of chlorine licking at your chin. Bucky and Steve are standing flat on their feet, barely wet at their collarbones.

“Better hold on, ‘less you’re interested in drownin’.” Bucky teases. A mouthful gets spit out onto his neck and for a second you think maybe that point is worth it until Steve picks you up by the waist and dumps you two inches left and the water goes right over your head.

You scramble and splash, regretting not taking those swimming classes seriously because all you can do is (sort of) float on your back and doggy paddle for about three minutes. Bucky chuckles when you finally relent and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your burning face into his sopping hair.

“Is this your idea of getting me wet.” You mumble as your cheeks scorch against him. Steve is behind you, kissing your nape until you lean back onto his shoulder too, both inflamed and anxious by their rapt attention.

“Is it working?” Steve asks, and your silence is enough of an answer all on its own. You feel as if you might be brave enough to look up into Bucky’s eyes, maybe kiss him again, but a third and final cannonball crashes into the tranquil waves and then Buckeye breaks the water with a series of grunts and pants.

His fat head bobs up and down as he paddles about, tongue hanging limply from his jaw. As he makes his way past the three of you staring blankly at him, Buckeye gives Steve’s face a long, slow lick.

You swear you can hear Captain America faintly call your dog a “goddamn cockblock”.

Steve is in the shower when you snuggle up with Buckeye on the couch. A thick wool blanket covers your bare legs as you lean over, placing your head on your dog’s coiled body. He’s still a little damp from pool water, and the velvet grey of his coat is speckled with dark splotches. From downstairs, Bucky arrives, wet hair behind his ears and quietly lifts your dog up and places him on the sofa couch across from the coffee table. He smells like peppermint body wash.

The sudden thought of him wearing red and white and kissing you under a mistletoe wriggles into your brain and you could scream. Instead, you steel yourself, scold the fantasy until it leaves.

Your head lays on Buckeye’s former seat, dampening the leather, staring up into the ceiling.

Bucky wordlessly smooths the blanket over your legs, sits down on the floor, and props his head up on his arms until he’s looking into your eyes. “Hey,” he says, biting on the tiniest bit of his bottom lip in a way uncharacteristic of him—nervous, careful. “Y’know, if this is too much—say somethin’—I’d rather be your friend than nothing at all.”

A smirk tugs the corner of your lip and he huffs at the sight of it, waiting for a comment but still, he feels uneasy. You’re not looking at him, not yet, at least. It’s still up in the air if you’ll laugh or cry; your emotions have become overwrought when thinking of them. The quips here and there have been tiny little bandages over the aching wound.

“C’mon,” Bucky whispers, “Thought you were gonna be bastard about it.”

“Sorry…” You mutter, turning to face him. A single tear drops out and rolls over your nose bridge, plunking down onto the leather. “I think I am... feeling both overwhelmed and…” You close your eyes, trying to find your words. “I think I’m also feeling inadequate.”

Bucky’s brow furrows, creating fine creases on his forehead.

“I guess as a normal person, now faced with something … very serious-- two entire lives that have started way before me and will last long after me, I’m just wondering how exactly I will fit? It’s certainly selfish... ”

“It’s not.”

A jerk of your mouth catches his gaze, “I can’t stop thinking about you.” You laugh, knowing fully well that the statement sounds silly because he’s right in front of you now, as he’s been for the past few days. And your comment makes it seem like he’s leagues away. “I want you to be happy. I think you‘ve spent so long not being, I just want you to be happy.”

Against your better judgement, you turn until your entire body is facing him and brush your fingers along his chin, then trail up until you are holding onto the side of his neck, thumb under his ear. Bucky smiles that lopsided boyish smile at you, set in the angular, firm face of a man, and closes his eyes.

“Thanks.”

He opens them, letting the gray-blue dance over your features. You feel brave again, because Bucky Barnes is inches away, looking at you like you could be part of his world. Leaning forward, you press your lips to his softly. He is already a part of your world, more ingrained than you ever thought could be in the short time you’ve known him.

You kiss him again. For good measure. And then again, for luck, maybe. “You know I meant it, last night.” You sigh against his mouth, “I do love you two.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky dismisses it playfully as he lifts himself up just a little more to hover over your face, turning so that his mouth slants on yours just right. “No time to talk now, darlin’.”

He scrubs his beard against your neck, and you start giggling uncontrollably at the way it tickles. His nose brushes against your ear and his tongue traces your jaw before he peppers kisses up to your mouth. His fingers tap a staccato of morse code up and down your sides as you squeal.

Who knew The Winter Soldier could be so... cute?

“I’m ready for a nap!” Steve calls from the hallway, stopping short of interrupting the moment. “Think all of us can fit on the bed?”

“Steve, man, it’s like evening time.” Your voice is muffled against Bucky’s face once more as he takes the opportunity to kiss you again.

“I’m trying to find an excuse to lie down,” Steve grumbles. You hear his footsteps stop behind Bucky as he peers over his shoulder and into your upside-down face. “Will ya come to bed or not?”

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you hide behind Bucky’s hair. “Well, fuckin’ twist my arm...”

Steve sleeps like the dead. It’s comical how he sprawls out and snores softly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. And maybe he doesn’t, now that he’s retired.

You and Bucky have moved to one side where he lies with one arm tucked behind his head and the other one under yours. He tells you Steve usually isn’t so ridiculous, sleeping very lightly and wakes up at the slightest noise, but now there’s a conversation being carried centimeters away from his face and he’s not stirred at all.

Bucky smiles at this, says thank god, he needs it.

“He’s gonna be up at three bouncing off the walls.” You warn.

“Yeah, it’s fine. He’ll sprint fifty miles and go to bed.”

“Jesus, why?”

“Super serum bullshit, and because he’s a show-offy asshole.”

“Aren’t you... also serum-ed?”

“Yeah, but I also love my bed.”

At that, you whistle, “Man after my own heart.”

His face lights up as he turns to peer at you resting on the crook of his arm, leaning so that the top of your head is barely on his chest. “Oh yeah?” The silly conversation takes a turn when Bucky tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, finding excuse to let his fingers roam along the edge of your eyebrow, trailing down until he’s past your cheek, further down to your shoulder.

It’s his left hand that’s touching you, the cold metal of the appendage sending shivers down your back. You can’t help but gaze at the way it reflects the setting sun slipping through the cracks of your blinds.

The hand under your head is shifted until he’s propping himself up on it.

Your mouth goes drier each time he squeezes your arm, closing your eyes to concentrate on the contradicting sensations—your warm body, his cold hand, quickly losing its chill. He travels down, down, until his palm is on your hip, then your thigh, then, ghosting between your legs.

Against your back is Steve, sighing softly.

“I feel like I’m living out the thirst tweet ‘bout your arm.” You mutter, eyes closing with a tremulous shudder. Bucky laughs, fingers diving between your thighs, hand wrapping over one.

“You got a thing for getting choked, too?” It’s a joke, but he pinches your flesh and when your tummy flutters, you suddenly grow a bit afraid of your own desires.

Behind you, Steve stirs. “Don’t let him do it.” His gravelly voice pipes up, muffled by the pillow his cheek is pressed against, “He toes the line of erotic asphyxiation too closely.” Then, he turns, spooning you, and falls back asleep.

Why the fuck does Captain America know anything about erotic asphyxiation.

Bucky is laughing again, pulling you to his chest before he stills. “I wouldn’t. Unless you really wanted it.”

“Jesus would you stop.” You mumble, but peek up at him anyway, lips parting in anticipation. He gives it to you, curling his hand around the back of your neck and murmuring nonsense into your mouth. Witticisms that you quickly bite off with a teasing snap of teeth. Bucky pulls away with a sound of surprise.

“Oh, kitten. You got claws, huh?”

You show him your canines. “Always had ‘em, bee-itch.” He doesn’t know how a person can make the word bitch into two annoying—maybe endearing— syllables, but you’ve done it.

Bucky laughs joyfully, smothers his face into the pillow like he doesn’t want you to see, because Bucky Barnes’ reputation as a stone-cold motherfucker has been completely ripped to shreds in your hands and he is trying desperately to retain some semblance of it.

You grab his face, grinning, eager to see that winsome smile of his.

“Fuck, I like you.” He says with a chuckle.

“Aw, don’t be a bee-itch, Buck.” Steve calls from your back, apparently not asleep after all. “Tell ‘er the damn truth!” Your spine picks up the humidity of his breath, shivers running all the way up to your neck when he kisses your shoulder blade with sloppy presses of his mouth.

In the sunset glow, Bucky groans dramatically as you and Steve wait, smirks shared between two utter bastards, he thinks. He groans and groans and when he’s out of one long breath he picks up another.

“Fine, fine.” He relents finally, letting you bask in the glory of that gorgeous wide mouth, stretched so sweetly. He laughs.

“I love you too. Twist my fuckin’ arm.”

#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #FiMS

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angelsandacceptance · 3 years

Text

Yellow Fever

The coroner opens a body bag.

“Agents, meet Frank O’Brien,” The coroner said.

“He died of a heart attack, right?” Chase asked.

“Three days ago.”

“But O'Brien was 44 years old and, according to this, a marathon runner.” Sam added.

“Everybody drops dead sooner or later. It's why I got job security.”

“Yeah, but Frank kicked it here. Now, just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in Maumee. All heart attacks, you don't think that's strange?” Dean asks.

“Sounds like Maumee's problem to me. Why's the FBI give a damn, anyway?”

“Look, we just want to see the autopsy results,” Harley says with a fake smile.

“What autopsy?”

“The one you are going to do.”

***

The coroner cuts open Frank O’Brien’s body, “First dead body?”

“Far from it,” Dean says.

“My mum, she used to make us watch autopsies during dinner when we were little.” Harley says smiling fondly down at the dead body, “For a while I actually wanted to be a coroner.”

“Fascinating,” The coroner says, slight hesitation in his voice, “Hand me the rib cutters, would you?”

“Sure,” Harley says, handing him the tool.

Sam looks uncomfortable, shifting on the heels of his feet, glancing at the others. Chase notices, but simply ignores his discomfort.

“Is that from a wedding ring? I didn't think Frank was married,” Chase says pointing at Frank’s left hand.

“Ain’t my department,” The coroner responds.

“Any idea how he got these?” Sam asks, picking up Frank’s left arm.

It was covered in red scratches.

“You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop. Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground.” He pauses, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Huh.”

“What?” Chase asks, looking closer at what he’s looking at.

“I-I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries,” The coroner says, taking the heart out of the body.

Dean gags, looking ready to vomit, noticed easily by Harley, who rolls her eyes.

“Heart looks pretty damn healthy,” The coroner says, handing the heart to Dean, “Hold that a second, would you?”

Sam smirks. Chase has to stifle a laugh, pretending to clear her throat.

The coroner cuts the spleen and it splashes all over Sam’s face causing Dean to smirk, and earning a small smile from Harley.

“Oh, sorry. Spleen juice,” The coroner says.

***

Sam, Dean, Chase, and Harley all sit waiting outside of the Sheriff’s office. The deputy smiles at Dean and the Sheriff opens his door.

“Hell's bells, Linus, have you seen my.... Who are they?” The Sheriff asks upon seeing the Winchesters plus one.

The group stands finally done waiting.

“Federal agents. I, uh....” Linus, the deputy, trails off.

“And you kept them waiting?” The Sheriff asks.

“You, you said not to disturb.”

“Come on back,” The Sheriff says, directed towards the fake feds.

The gang began to head to the door, but were stopped at it.

“Shoes off,” The Sheriff directed.

The hunters complied, but not before Harley rolled her eyes, and entered the office.

Chase shoots a confused look to Harley, slipping her boots off carefully, so that her knife isn’t seen.

Motioning them into the office, the Sheriff gestures to a few seats. “Al Britton,” he introduces himself. “Nice to meet you all.”

“You too,” Chase says.

Al shakes each of their hands before sitting down. He grabs hand sanitizer and begins to rub a lot onto his hands. Chase recoils at the strong smell, as does Harley.

“Okay, so, what can I do for Uncle Sam?” the Sheriff asks.

Ironically, Sam is the one to answer. “Well, we’re looking into the death of Frank O’Brien. We understand some of your men found his body.”

“They did. Me and Frank, we were friends. Hell, we were gamecocks.”

Dean laughs the tiniest bit under his breath, but silences himself with an elbow from both Chase and Harley, who sit on either side of him, and a stern look from the Sheriff.

“That's our softball team's name,” The Sheriff explains, “They're majestic animals. I knew Frank since high school. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was...He was a good man.”

“Yeah, big heart,” Dean comments.

Harley has to stifle a laugh receiving another look from the Sheriff and one from her best friend.

“Before he died, did you notice Frank acting strange? Maybe scared of something?” Chase asks.

“Oh hell, yeah. Real jumpy.” The Sheriff says.

“You know what scared him?” Sam asks.

“No. Wouldn't answer his phone. Finally, I sent some of my boys over to check on him, and well, you know the rest,” The Sheriff pours copious amounts of hand sanitizer into his hand and rubs it in.

The Winchesters all look at each other while Harley facepalms.

“So, why the Feds give a crap? You don't really think there's a case here?” The Sheriff asks.

“No, no. It's probably nothing. Just a heart attack,” Dean answers.

***

“No way that was a heart attack,” Dean says as the group walks to the cars.

“No way in hell, three guys going from freaked to terrified to dead with the same red scratches. Too improbable,” Harley says.

“Something scared them to death?”

“Okay, what can do that?” Chase asks.

“What can't? Ghosts, vampires, chupacabra? It could be a hundred things.”

“Yeah. So, we make a list and start crossing things off,” Sam suggests.

“Alright, who's the last person to see Frank O'Brien alive?” Harley asks.

“Uh, his neighbour, Mark Hutchins.”

Dean was looking ahead at teenagers by the cars, “Hang on, hang on.”

“What?”

“I don't like the looks of those teenagers down there.”

“Dean, we fight monsters. I think we can handle a few teenagers,” Harley laughs.

Still Dean crosses the street and everyone else followed, “Let's walk this way.”

Chase and Harley shoot each other a look.

***

“Tyler, Perry, Kramer, and Crespo. Just like Aerosmith,” Frank’s neighbor, Mark, noted.

“Yeah,” Sam says, looking around the room, “Small world. So, the last time you saw Frank O’Brien.”

Dean backs away quickly from a large lizard staring at him through a glass case, bumping into Harley.

Chase raises a brow at him, but turns back to Mark Hutchins.

“Monday, he was watching me from his window. I waved at him, but he just closed the curtains.”

“Did you talk to him recently?” Chase asks. “Did he seem different? Uh, scared?”

“Oh, totally. He was freaking out.”

Chase notices that Dean looks a little freaked and has since earlier that day. She frowns.

“Do you know what he was scared of perchance?” Harley asks.

“Well, yeah, witches.”

The gang all exchange glances.

“Witches?” Sam asks, “Like...?”

“Well, "Wizard of Oz" was on tv the other night, right? And he said that green bitch was totally out to get him.”

“Did anything else spook him?” Harley inquires.

“Everything else scared him. Al-Qaeda, ferrets, artificial sweetener. Those pez dispensers with their dead little eyes. Lots of stuff.”

Dean casts another glance towards the fish tank.

“So, tell me. What was Frank like?” Sam asks.

“I mean, he’s dead, you know? I don’t wanna hammer him, but he got better,” Hutchins says hesitantly.

“Got better how?” Chase asks.

“Well, in high school, he was a. Well, he was a dick.”

“A dick?” Harley asks.

“Like a bully,” he explains. “I mean, he probably taped half the town’s butt cheeks together.”

Chase wrinkles her nose at the thought. Dean snickers.

Hutchins continues, “Including mine.”

At this Dean stops, looking abashed, while Chase’s eyebrows shoot up in second hand embarrassment.

“So he pissed off a lot of people,” Dean says. “You think anyone might want to get revenge?”

Hutchins looks at them all, confused. “Well, I- Frank had a heart attack, right?”

“Just answer the question, sir,” Harley says.

“No, I don't think so. Like I said, he got better. And after what happened to his wife.”

Dean perks up a bit at the last statement, “His wife? So he was married.”

“She died about 20 years ago. Frank was really broken up about it.”

Harley notices Dean eyeing the snake around Mark’s neck and shoots him a confused look. Apparently Hutchins noticed too.

“Don't be scared of Donny. He's a sweetheart. It's Marie you got to look out for,” he says nodding to the couch the four were sat on, “She smells fear.”

An albino burmese python began to crawl up from behind the couch as if on cue. Harley pet it’s head. Dean gasps and stays uncomfortably still as Marie crawls across his lap. Chase smiles in delight, reaching out to run a hand down the length of her scales.

***

The girls were in the Lincoln ahead of the Impala headed to the motel, Sam and Dean on speakerphone.

“Frank's wife, Jessie, was a manic-depressive. She went off her meds back in '88 and vanished. They found her two weeks later, three towns over. Strung up in her motel room, suicide,” Dean says.

“Any chance Frank helped her along?” Harley asks.

“No, Frank was working the swing shift when she disappeared. Airtight alibi.”

“How was Frank’s pad?” Dean asks.

Sam’s voice comes through the speaker clearly, “Clean. Searched it top to bottom. No EMF, no hex bags, no sulfur.”

“So probably no ghosts,” Chase says.

“No witches,” Harley continues.

“And no demons,” Chase finishes, her grip on the steering wheel tightening.

“3 down and 97 to go,” Harley laughs.

“Dude, you’re going twenty,” Sam says.

“And?” Dean asks, his voice irritated, obvious despite the phone static. Chase raises a brow.

“That’s the speed limit,” Harley notes as they turn onto a different road. “We’re way past you guys. Almost back at the motel.”

“What? So safety’s a crime now?”

“Dude,” Sam exclaims, causing both girls to wince and cast a wary glance towards the phone. “What’re you doing? That was our motel!”

“Sam, I’m not going to make a left turn into oncoming traffic. I’m not suicidal.”

Harley and Chase simultaneously scoff at this.

“Did I just say that?” Dean asks.

“You did, indeedy,” Chase says.

“That was weird,” Harley says as Chase parks near their room.

An odd high pitched whine comes through the phone.

“What’s that guys?” Chase asks.

“Is that the EMF meter?”

The other line stays silent, before Dean suddenly exclaims, “Am I haunted? Am I haunted?”

The line goes dead, Chase and Harley shooting each other worried looks.

“What the fuck?” Chase asks.

***

Sam is on the phone talking to Bobby, while the girls read from various books of ghost lore. Music suddenly starts and the three look over and head over to see Dean lying in the Impala playing the air drums. Eye of the Tiger blasts from the radio and Chase and Harley smile.

Dean sits up, noticing the three. “Guys, look at this!” He pulls his sleeve back enough to show red scratches on his forearms. Chase and Harley frown and look to each other, worried. Sam nods.

“I just got done talking to Bobby,” Sam says.

“And?” Harley asks.

“Um, well y’all aren’t gonna like it.”

“What?” Dean asks.

“It’s ghost sickness.”

“Ghost sickness?”

Chase scoffs. “Sounds 100% made up.”

“It’s not. And Dean has it,” Sam says, shooting Chase a look.

“God, no,” Dean says.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs.

“I don’t even know what that is,�� Dean says, his eyes widening in panic. Chase snorts out a laugh, shaking her head at the absurdity of the situation.

“Okay. Some cultures believe that certain spirits can infect the living with a disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes.”

“Lovely,” Harley comments, “So how’s it work?”

“Symptoms are you get anxious,” Sam starts, but Dean cuts him off.

“Yeah,” Dean confirms.

“Then scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out. Sound familiar?”

“Yeah, but, we haven't seen a ghost in weeks,” Dean counters.

“Pretty sure we were around a body that had it though,” Harley points out.

“Right. Now, Frank O'Brien was the first to die, which means he was probably the first infected. Patient zero,” Sams explains.

“Our very own outbreak monkey,” Chase says.

“Right. Get this. Frank was in Maumee over the weekend. Softball tournament. Which is where he must have infected the other two victims.”

“Were they gamecocks?” Dean asks, making fun of the name.

Sam gives him a stern look. “Cornjerkers.”

“So, ghosts infected Frank and he gave it to the other guys and I got it from his corpse?”

“Right.”

“So now what, I have forty eight hours before I go insane and my heart stops?” Dean demands.

“More like 24,” Harley points out.

Dean looks at her blankly. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” she replies cheerily.

He rolls his eyes. “So why only me? Why not you guys? Sam, you’re the one that got hit with spleen juice.”

Sam looks uncomfortable for a mere second. “Yeah, um, you see Bobby and I have a theory about that too. Turns out all three victims shared a certain, uh, personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two victims, one was a vice principal, the other was a bouncer.”

“Okay.”

“Basically, they were all dicks.”

Chase winces. “Wow, straight for the kill, man.”

“So you’re saying I’m a dick?” Dean asks.

“It’s okay, Dean, you’re my favourite dick...That sounded better in my head,” Harley says, trying to cheer Dean up.

“No, thanks, really. That helped bucketloads,” Dean says sarcastically.

Chase is fighting a smile, but gestures for Sam to continue.

“Well, it’s not just that. All three victims used fear as a weapon, and now this disease is just returning the favor.”

“I don’t scare people,” Dean says.

“Uh, I hate to break it to you man, but all we do with our lives is scare people,” Chase points out.

“Okay, well then you’re dicks too.”

“Apparently not,” Sam says.

“I don’t know. Harley can be a dick sometimes,” Chase teases, elbowing her friend.

“This is true,” Harley agrees.

“Whatever,” Dean says with an eye roll. “How do we stop it?”

“We gank the ghost that started all this. We do that, the disease should clear up.”

“I’ve always hated the word should,” Chase sighs.

“Are we thinking Frank’s wife?”

“We never did learn why she killed herself.”

“Hey,” Sam says frowning, “What’re you doing out here waiting anyway?”

“Our room’s on the fourth floor,” Dean says hesitantly.

Chase fights another laugh. Sam sighs.

“It’s high,” Dean adds.

“I'll see if I can move us down to the first.” Sam says.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

***

Sam, Chase, and Harley entered the boys’ room to see a broken clock on the floor and Dean on the couch, a beer in hand.

“Uh, is everything okay?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, just peachy.”

“What did it do to you?” Chase asks, gesturing to the clock.

“Made me angry.”

Raising her eyebrows, Chase nods slowly. “Uh huh, okay.”

“Find anything?”

“Yeah, Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, so I'm pretty sure she is not our ghost,” Sam says.

“Quit picking at that. How are you feeling?” Harley asks.

“Awesome. It’s nice to have my head on the chopping block. I almost forgot what it feels like.”

“Yeah,” Harley sighs.

“It’s freaking delightful.”

“We’ll keep looking,” Chase promises.

Dean starts coughing violently.

“You okay? Hey!” Sam asks, worried, “Dean.”

He starts to choke and rushes to the sink gagging until he spits a wood chip out.

“We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have, you.” Sam says.

“I don’t want to be a clue,” Dean complains.

“The abrasions, this disease, it’s trying to tell us something,” Sam points out.

“Tell us what?” Dean demands. “Wood chips?”

“Exactly.”

***

The group arrives at a nearby lumber mill. Exiting their cars, they look around at each other in hesitance. The mill is large, broken down, with ‘keep out’ signs on the front.

Dean looks at the mill, and shakes his head, “I'm not going in there.”

“You’re going in, Dean,” Sam says.

“C’mon scaredy cat, you got this. Bravery isn’t not being scared, it’s running towards what scares you,” Harley says, encouraging him.

Dean takes a large gulp of whiskey from a flask, “Let's do this. It is a little spooky, isn't it?”

“Yes Dean, it’s very spooky,” Chase sighs as Sam hands Dean his gun.

“Oh, I'm not carrying that. It could go off. I'll man the flashlight,” Dean says refusing the gun causing Harley to roll her eyes. He grabs the flashlight tightly with an anxious smile on his face.

“You do that,” Sam says.

***

The EMF meter goes off in Sam’s pocket, causing them all to jump and look towards him in surprise.

“EMF's not gonna work with me around, is it?” Dean asks.

“You don’t say,” Chase says sarcastically. “Come on,” Sam replies before crouching down in front of what looks like a dirty tissue, “Wait,” He pulls a golden wedding band out from underneath it.

Dean crouches down with the flashlight so Sam could read the engraving on it.

“‘To Frank, Love, Jessie’ Frank O’Brien’s ring,” Sam says, getting up.

“So Frank was definitely here.” Harley says.

“But what the hell was he doing here?” Dean asks.

Chase shrugs. “Who knows. Let’s just find this ghost.”

They continue on into another room, dust lining everything, from the small tables in the corner to the lockers lining the far wall. Cobwebs hang in every corner, causing Chase to stand in the very middle of the room while Sam and Dean go over to the lockers.

Sam opens a locker slowly, just for a cat to jump out. Dean, startled, shrieks loudly, jumping about wildly, flailing his arms. This action causes Chase to also scream out in surprise. She immediately notices the cat, however, and calms herself down, turning a glare to her older brother.

“That was scary,” Dean says matter-of-factly. Sam rolls his eyes and starts to walk away. “Wait!”

Ignoring the three others for a second, Chase runs after the cat, managing to catch it. She cradles it and walks back over to the group. Harley raises an eyebrow at her.

‘What?’ Chase mouths.

Harley shrugs, and reaches a hand out to stroke the cat’s head, then sneezes. Dean jumps slightly, whirling around to cast a cautious glance at Harley, then notices the cat in Chase’s arms. He backs away a step. Once Dean turns around Harley sneaks up behind him and digs her fingers into his sides causing Dean to scream and shoot her a nasty glare while Chase and Harley laugh their asses off.

Sam reaches down and picks a card off the table, only to pass it to Dean, saying, “Luther Garland.”

Dean, now backed away to the other table, points to a drawing. “Hey, this is uh. This is Frank’s wife.”

Chase lets out a low whistle. “The plot thickens.”

“Yeah, but into what?” Sam asks.

Dean suddenly bolts past the three, out of the mill. Chase starts to run after him. “Dean!”

Harley whirls around and notices a ghost behind Sam. “Sam, get down!”

Sam turns and ducks quickly as Harley shoots the ghost, causing it to vanish.

Sam turns to Harley and nods a thanks as they both head out to the Impala. Chase is gently placing the brown cat in the back of the Lincoln. Dean is drinking a copious amount of alcohol.

“Guess we got the right place,” Sam states.

***

“Dean, it’s just a small cat. You’re not even allergic!” Chase reprimands, holding the cat against her chest. It meows indignantly at Dean, who frowns at it.

“I might develop an allergy though!”

“Dean, I’m allergic, and even I know it’s fine to be around the cat, much less be around Chase just because she’s held one recently.”

Chase points at Harley, a look on her face screaming, ‘Exactly!’

Dean shakes his head, taking a stubbornly defiant step back. Sam sighs, rubbing his forehead, and exasperated look on his face.

“Guys, you’ve both held the cat. And since Dean,” Sam gives an annoyed look to Dean upon saying his name - Dean looks at him in indignation and scoffs, “And that means you guys aren’t much help right now. Just go to the motel and figure out a shelter nearby to get rid of it, take a shower, and join us later. Okay?”

Chase rolls her eyes, scoffing, in sync with Dean. They both sigh and nod. Harley laughs at the two.

“Yeah, Sam, that works,” Harley says.

Chase grumbles but agrees nonetheless.

Back in the motel room, Harley and Chase sit on the floor, the cat between them, trying to come up with ways to get the cat to a safe place.

“We could give him to Cas?” Harley suggests.

“I mean, I guess.” Chase frowns, jerking her hand away from the cat’s claws. His now clean fur bristles as he - Chase had drawn the short straw and washed him, and checked - turned away from her, wandering straight to Harley, whom he seemed to favor despite her allergies. “Cas is a no show recently, though, so I don’t really think he’d come down for this.”

“Yeah, but there aren’t any shelters nearby. So what else can we do?”

“Nothing else, I guess. I definitely don’t want to just put him back in that mill. Do you think he’d answer if you or I prayed to him?”

“I think it’s worth a shot.”

“Okay, do you want me to or do you want the honors?” Chase pauses. “We could say we found a seal?”

“Or we could just say it’s of dire importance, I mean we don’t have to lie to the guy. Just not tell him everything.”

Chase looks down at the cat, who stares at her from between Harley’s crossed legs. She sighs dramatically and leans back against the bed. “Fine, I’ll do it. But only for you,” Chase says, pointing at the cat. She then frowns. “You-you- cat. We need to name him first. Then I’ll do it.”

“Catiel.”

Chase gives Harley a side look. “How long have you been sitting on that one?”

“Since I thought about looping Cas in.”

“Of course. You wouldn’t be Harley if you didn’t make some form of pun or bad joke. Not that it’s bad. The cat fits the name. Doesn’t like me much, that is.” Chase scoffs to herself, before sighing. “I guess I’ll pray now.” Chase ignores Harley, who begins to just laugh about the name “Catiel”, while playing with the cat himself. She sighs again.

“Oh, uh, Cas. Hi, me. Chase Winchester. Look, Harley and I need you down here for something…” No response. Chase glances around the room, and frowns. “Please, Cas it’s really important to me and we kinda need your help. It’s an emergency.”

“What’s wrong?” A male voice suddenly asks. The girls jump and turn to Castiel, who looks at them with narrowed eyes.

Catiel, who’d somehow immediately jumped to be by Castiel’s side, rubbing along his legs, somehow unnoticed by Cas, meows up at him. Castiel slowly looks down, only to freeze, look up at the girls, then back down.

“What is this?”

“A cat. His name is Catiel,” Harley says proudly.

Castiel sighs. “Well, yes I know it is a cat but- Wait. You have named him Catiel? Like…”

“Like after you, yeah,” Harley says, with a tone of ‘duh’ in her voice.

“Why am I here?” Castiel asks, his eyes going to Chase. She blinks at the sudden attention and stutters when trying to answer.

“We need help with Catiel. He needs to be brought to a shelter, but there aren’t any near here. And you can just poof everywhere.”

Cas looks as though he wants to comment on several parts of that statement, but resigns himself to ignoring both the cat’s name and the ‘poofing’ comment once more. “I am a heavenly soldier of the Lord and you think I’m available to you as your errand boy?” he asks in a commanding tone.

Chase raises a brow at this. “Wow, but when you needed something done, you had no problem coming to us and asking us to help you. And Harley even named the poor thing after you, how horrible of you.”

Cas’ eyes narrow further. “You said it was an emergency.”

“This is an emergency!”

“I thought you might’ve been hurt. Or there was a seal. Or something actually worth my time.”

“Castiel, take this cat to a shelter or else,” Chase demands. She looks at Cas, all five feet four inches, sitting criss-crossed on the floor, a stuffed animal discarded to her right, glaring up at an angel, demandingly. He blinks.

“Fine.” His voice is gruff and he seems hesitant, but doesn’t argue any further.

“Thanks, Cas,” Harley says grinning, “Now we can get to the list.” “List?”

Chase smiles. “Yes. List. Now, Catiel has to go to a no-kill shelter. Can not be vegan run. Preferably not an SPCA organization, since those usually pool money for themselves. Maybe one with no adoption fees, maybe vaccinations included. Spaying is probably important. Harley, am I missing anything?”

“Purina food. Only the best for our little Catiel,” Harley adds.

Castiel gives Harley a blank stare. “Of course. Is there anything else?”

“Yeah.”

Cas looks to Chase again, the look on his face quickly becoming devoid of any patience. “What?”

“You have to pick him up,” Chase smiles.

“What?”

“You have to pick him up to poof him around, Cas,” Harley repeats.

“Please, Castiel,” Chase says, bringing out the puppy eyes, a trait she shares with her younger brother, Sam. “This is really important to me. I’d keep Catiel if I could, so would Harley. We just want to make sure he stays safe.”

Castiel’s face softens reluctantly as he groans, his head tilting back as his eyes flick to the ceiling for a moment, as though praying. “Alright. Alright. Catiel will be fine,” Cas says, hesitating at the name, but seeming to warm up to the idea, if only slightly. He bends over to pick up Catiel, and lifts him awkwardly into the air, holding him away from his body, as though Catiel could cause some kind of damage.

“I mean, that isn’t how you hold a cat, but, it’s better than nothing,” Chase sighs.

“I’ll miss you, Catiel.” Harley says oh so dramatically.

***

Sam calls Chase and she puts him on speakerphone. “Dean’s gone,” Sam says through the speaker.

“What?” Chase and Harley question at the same time.

“Dean’s gone. He ran off and I can’t find him.”

“We’ll find him, Sammy, don’t worry,” Chase says, reassuring her brother.

“Did he say anything before he left?” Harley asked.

“He thinks we’re crazy, that he’s done with hunting.” Sam says.

“Dean Winchester done with hunting? Never thought I’d hear that in my lifetime.” Harley says, “If he’s done hunting he’s probably heading back to the motel or to a bar.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely not like him,” Chase adds. “Sammy, what made him leave? Did he say anything before he left?”

“Just that he was done with hunting. I think he was having a hallucination, but whatever it is, it scared the hell out of him.”

***

Harley was waiting in the boys’ room for Dean to come back while Chase and Sam are out looking for him. Dean enters the room out of breath and terrified.

“Dean! You can’t just disappear like that. Do you have any idea how worried we were? You’re not exactly in the best state of mind right now,” Harley goes off.

“I know, I know,” Dean says. “I just. I’m done with all of this.”

Once she calms down she texts Sam and Chase letting them know Dean was back at the motel.

“You might be done for now, but will you be when we cure you? Because honestly I doubt you will.”

“I don’t know, okay?” Dean exclaims. “How are you so sure you’ll cure me, huh? Cause it doesn’t look like it’s gonna happen!”

“Because I’m not letting you die of some stupid ghost sickness and neither are Chase and Sam. We care too much about you and we will find a way. We have to.”

Dean sighs, sitting himself down on the bed. “Okay.”

“Well that was easier than usual. This ghost sickness must really be getting to ya,” Harley jokes nudging Dean in the side.

Dean laughs slightly, but jumps at the sudden opening of the door. Harley and Dean turn to see Sam and Chase looking at them.

“What the Hell, Dean?” Chase demands, stomping over to him. He flinches slightly, and she softens her movements, but not her expression. “We looked everywhere for you! I was worried sick, Dean.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How did you get here?” Sam asks, worry lacing his tone.

“I ran,” Dean shrugs. “So, what do we do now? I’ve got less than four hours on the clock. I’m gonna die, Sammy.”

“No, Dean. We aren’t going to let that happen.”

“Back?” Dean asks, suddenly looking confused. The three others share a glance.

“Dean, are you okay?” Chase asks, stepping closer.

“No! Stay away from me!” Chase puts her hands up and takes a large step back.

“Dean, it’s okay.”

Harley, still next to Dean on the bed, puts a hand on his shoulder. Dean flinches away and lets out a yell, scrambling back.

“You get out of her! You get out of all of them!”

“Dean, what’s going on, what’re you talking about?” Chase asks, rushing back over to him. Sam and Harley do the same.

Sam shakes Dean by the shoulders, trying to capture his attention. “Dean! Hey, hey, hey. Dean. Dean, c’mon, Dean!”

Dean comes to, it seems, as he takes a few shuddering deep breaths, looking at the three in panic. Harley, Sam, and Chase all exchange worried glances before their attention lands on Dean again.

***

Sam and Chase lean against the Impala as Bobby’s car drives up.

“Howdy, Sam, Chase.” Bobby says as he exits his vehicle.

“Hey, Bobby. Thanks for coming so quick.” Sam says.

“Where's Dean and Harley?”

“Harley’s babysitting Dean,” Chase says.

“So, have his hallucinations started yet then?”

Chase nods. “Few hours ago.”

“How we doing on time?” Bobby asks.

Sam sighs. “We saw the coroner about eight AM, Monday morning, so, uh.”

“Just under two hours,” Chase sighs. “What about you? Find anything?”

“This, uh, encyclopedia of spirits dates back to the Edo period.” Bobby hands Sam a text in Japanese.

“You can read Japanese?” Sam asks, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Kimi ga umareru zutto mae kara dayo,” Bobby answers.

“Guess so, show off,” Sam mutters.

“Samu, kuso. Kono atari de osharena hon o manade iru no wa anata dakede wa arimasen.”

Sam turns to Chase in shock. “Bobby, I can understand. You?”

Chase scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I know five languages Sam. Grow up. Is it really that surprising?”

Sam shrugs. “A little, yeah.”

“Anyway,” Bobby interrupts, “this book lists a kind of ghost that could be our guy. It, uh, infects people with fear. It’s called the Buru Buru.”

“Well, does this say how to kill it?” Sam asks.

“Same as usual, burn the remains.”

“So, uh, is there a plan B?” Chase asks, her eyes scanning the text.

“Well, the Buru Buru is a creature of fear. Hell, it is fear. So, the lore says you can kill it with fear.”

“We’re scaring a ghost to death?” Chase asks, her eyebrows raising in question.

“Pretty much.”

“How the hell are we gonna do that?” Sam asks.

***

Dean and Harley are sitting on the bed, watching Gumby on TV. Pokey is lassoed and dragged by a car while Dean scratches his arm.

“Oh, this isn't helping,” Dean quickly switches it off.

“Stop it,” Harley says, referring to his arm.

“Stop what?”

“Scratching.” Harley says as her phone rings, “It’s Sam.” She answers the phone, “Hey, what’s up?”

“We got a plan,” Sam says.

“What is it?”

“Just a really good plan.”

“Sam.”

“We're going to scare the ghost to death.”

“Should I come with y’all?”

“No, someone needs to watch Dean.”

“Got it,” Harley says hanging up.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks.

“They got a plan.”

“What is it?”

“Just a good plan.”

“Are you going with them?”

“No.”

“Good. I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re never alone as long as I’m around….Besides you’ve got Sam and Chase. You don’t even really need me.”

“I’ll always need you, sweetheart.” Dean almost whispers.

“I’ll always need you too.” She says resting her head on his shoulder.

***

Chase, Sam, and Bobby arrived at the lumber mill.

“This is a terrible plan,” Bobby mentions.

“Well it’s the only plan we got,” Chase says.

“I know I said, scare the ghost to death but this?” Bobby says, cocking a shotgun.

“Hey, you got a better idea, I'm listening,” Sam says before he and Chase enter the mill.

“Any luck?” Bobby asks over the walkie talkie.

“I don't know what's wrong, Bobby. Last time he came right at us. It's almost like he's, uh...like he's scared.”

Chase continues forward down the hall, met with no ghosts, resistance, or danger of any kind. She turns back to Sam, confused. “Where the hell is he?”

“So now what?” Bobby’s voice asks.

“I guess we got to make him angry.” Sam says. He walks towards a table covered with Luther’s drawings, and begins to rip them up. The machinery of the mill starts up. “Come on, Luther! Where the hell are you? What are you waiting for?”

“Sam!” Chase shouts, pointing behind Sam. “He’s there!”

***

Dean and Harley hear a bang come from the motel room door. A dog barks and the door comes off its hinges revealing the Sheriff with a gun in hand.

“Sheriff?” Dean says unsure of what’s happening.

“What ‘cha doing?” Harley asks, weary of getting shot.

“Why are you looking into Luther Garland's death?” The Sheriff asks.

Harley and Dean notice the blood now visible on his forearm.

“Hey, hey, you're - you're sick. You're sick. You're sick, all right? Just -- just like me, okay? You got to relax.” Dean says.

The Sheriff ignores Dean and punches him in the face. Harley is quick to get between the two men.

“Frank O'Brien was my friend. So he made a mistake. So I didn't bust him. So what? And you're gonna bring me down over that?! No, sir.” The Sheriff attempts to point the gun at Dean, but Harley swats it out of his hand.

A fight breaks out between the Sheriff and Harley while Dean watches too afraid to help. The Sheriff ends the fight, staring into the distance petrified. He starts hyperventilating and slowly backs away.

“Get away from me!” The Sheriff shouts before collapsing.

“Well that was eventful. You know you could have helped Dean.” Harley says tuning around to face the hunter in question. He’s scratching his arm again. “Will you quit it. You’re only gonna make your arm worse.”

A few minutes pass and the damn dog starts barking again. Dean leans down to pick up nothing. That was Harley’s first clue something was wrong. The second was when Dean jumped slightly.

“You – you are not real!” Dean shouts at the air to his right. He clutches his chest in fear. “You are not real.”

“Dean? You okay?” Harley asks, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Why me? Why'd I get infected?” He asks.

Harley walks over to him and shakes him slightly trying to break his trance.

“Whu...?” Dean asks, scooting away from whatever he saw until he was on the floor freaking out.

Harley didn’t know what to do so she took a page out of her previous dog’s book and layed on Dean’s chest attempting to slow down his heart rate. Eventually he’s pulled out of his trance.

“Why are you on my chest?” Dean asks, having no clue what’s going on.

“My dog used to lay on people’s chests to get their heart rates to slow down. I hoped the same principle would apply to humans.”

***

Chase shoots at Luther, but misses, her shots not as precise out of fear of shooting Sam, who is in a close range fight with the ghost.

“Chase!” Sam shouts, “Grab the chains!”

Chase remembers the chains and sees them on the ground near Sam, having been dropped when Chase grabbed her gun. She’d been in charge of keeping track of them.

Chase rushes over, grabbing the spelled chains off the ground. She gets Sam away from the ghost and the two take off, Luther in hot pursuit of them.

Once outside, close enough to Baby for her comfort, she turns suddenly, wrapping the chains around Luther’s neck. Luther struggles, but is unable to do anything at that moment about them. Chase, still holding onto them, gets into the Impala quickly.

“Step on it, Bobby!” Sam shouts.

Bobby slams on the gas pedal and the three watch as Luther is dragged behind the car by the chains. Luther gradually begins to disappear, until he is completely gone. Bobby slows down, pulling off to the side of the road so that Chase can pull in the chain, each of them allowing their breathing to go back to normal.

***

“So you guys road-hauled a ghost with a chain?” Dean asks skeptically.

“Iron chain,” Sam says.

“Probably helped that it was etched with spellwork,” Chase adds.

“Probably,” Harley laughs.

Chase cracks a smile. “Probably.”

“Hmm, that’s a new one,” Dean hums.

“It’s what he was most afraid of,” Sam says. “Pretty brutal, though.”

“On the upside, I’m still alive,” Dean laughs, “So, uh, go team!”

“Yeah. How are you feeling?” Chase asks.

“Fine.”

“You sure, Dean? 'Cause this line of work can get awful scary,” Bobby says.

“I'm fine. You want to go hunting? I'll hunt. I'll kill anything.”

“Awwww, he's adorable. I got to get out of here. You guys drive safe,” Bobby says getting in his car.

“You too, Bobby. Hey, thanks,” Sam says as Bobby drives off, “So uh...so, what did you see? Near the end, I mean.”

“Oh, besides a cop beating Harley’s ass?” Dean says.

“I was winning,” Harley says, swatting Dean on the arm.

“Seriously, Dean, what did you see?” Chase asks.

“Howler monkeys. Whole roomful of them. Those things creep the hell out of me.” Dean answers.

“Right.”

“No, just the usual stuff. Nothing I can’t handle.”

#supernatural #Supernatural season four #castiel #dean #winchester

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mrs-mikko-rantanen · 4 years

Text

Crash

Ok, this got really out of hand (2767 words....). I'll try to get the read more added to it here soon. This is a re-write, couldn't find the original post, sorry. But! Caretaker!Nyar, whumpee!Avanda so fun stuff. Tw: car crash mention, hospitals

Nyar shook, feeling nauseous as the nurse led him out to the waiting room. His left hand wrapped in a cast, he'd been given pain medications, and his mind was foggy. Weather that was from the medication, or the concussion, or the shock, he really wasn't sure.

"My friend...the one that came in with me, where-where is she?" He asked as he sank into the chair.

"She'll still be in surgery. You can wait here if you'd like. I'm sure…."

Nyar didn't hear the rest of what she said. He replayed the crash in his head, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. What he had done, what he should have done better, what he was supposed to have done to save her.

And now Avanda was in surgery. And he had no clue what was going on. His hand shook as he dug his phone out of his pocket. He knew Avanda had been the one who was supposed to pick up Ewan's little brothers, he had to get ahold of someone to take care of that and sort it out.

He typed Ewan's name into his phone's contacts. Nothing.

He tried Adair. Still nothing.

Castor. Nothing.

MacClyde.

Adonis.

No contacts pulled up for any of them, and he frowned. So he called the only person who's name he could think of. The one person he wanted to talk to the most.

"Hey, I was starting to worry." Jace's voice was full of concern, thinly veiled by the relife that was seeping through the phone's speaker.

"Hey um. I'm...not gonna make rehearsal today."

"Yeah, no I got that. What's up?" Jace Still sounded worried.

"I um. We uh. We were. Um."

"Ny? Are you alright?"

Nyar's voice shook as he spoke again. "We um. We were in a car accident."

"Oh my God, Nyar are you ok?"

"Uh, yeah I think so? I mean I just...I broke my wrist and a few ribs and have a bit of a concussion. But um. Av…" He choked on a sob. "Av was-she took most of it, and they took her into surgery and- I don't know who her doctor is, I don't think MacClyde is working today, I don't know if she's ok…"

"Nyar, babe, it's ok. It's going to be ok. Just take a deep breath for me alright?"

Nyar nodded and took a shaky breath in.

"Ok. What can I do for you? Do you want me to come to the hospital? Do you need me to call the crew?"

"Um. I-I think you should call Adonis. Av was supposed to pick the kids up. I-I don't have his number. Or either of the MacClyde's."

"Ok. Ok, yeah. I'll call Cas and we'll get the boys and then we'll come to the hospital, ok?"

"Ok."

"Ok. Hang in there, Big Guy. We'll be there as soon as we can be."

"Thank you."

"I love you, babe."

"I love you too. Drive safe."

He sighed as he hung up the phone. He was terrified. He had no idea what to do. He screwed his eyes shut, trying not to think about the sound of the screeching tires.

“Mr. Frostbane?” He leapt to his feet when the doctor called his name.

“Yeah, how is she?”

The doctor nodded at him a little. “She’s doing better. She's a little worse for wear, but that chest wound was really the worst of it. That being said, good job leaving the shrapnel in, it would have bled more if you’d taken it out.”

Nyar picked at his cast. “Yeah...uh, well that-that was really Avanda’s doing. She’s the medic.”

“Well, regardless, she has you to thank. The bleeding has stopped now, we got her all stitched up. She’s got a pretty bad concussion, two broken ribs and a broken wrist, among a few other things that we can go into more detail with later. It will be at least a few days before we can let her go home, maybe a week. Have you called her family?”

Nyar shifted, "I'll um...I'll try to get ahold of them, they don't live in town, they'll have to get a flight. And her boyfriend…” Nyar trailed off. Ewan was on a mission with Thane. They were both pretty deep undercover for now, and he had no idea how, or if the base would be able to contact them. “He’ll be here as soon as he can.”

The doctor nodded. “Good. In the meantime, do you want to go see her? She’s going to be very sleepy, and pretty out of it, but you’re welcome to go see her.”

Nyar nodded, “Yeah, um, yes please.”

He followed a nurse down the hall to the room Avanda was in. There was another nurse in the room, hooking her up to machines and checking the IVs. Avanda was asleep, as far as he could tell. The nurse that had led him in showed him the chair, but he didn’t sit. He couldn’t. She looked so small, and so broken.

He was hit by a wave of guilt. He was her captain. He was supposed to protect her, keep her safe, make sure that this didn’t happen.

“Don’t blame yourself, Sugar.” The nurse said, looking up from her work at Avanda’s wrist. “I’ve seen that look a lot, and I can promise you that this wasn’t your fault.”

Nyar opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it and nodded instead. He reached out slowly, gently pushing a strand of hair out of Avanda’s face.

“She’s going to be ok, right?” He asked finally.

The nurse looked up, “Sugar, I’m honestly more worried about you. She’s gonna be just fine. You need to have a seat.” When Nyar shook his head, she gave him a stern look over the rim of her glasses that brooked no argument. He pulled the chair up to the edge of the bed and had a seat. She nodded and looked back to her work before finally finishing up, patting Nyar on the shoulder and leaving, with a promise to be back to check on them in a few minutes.

Nyar propped his elbows on his knees, and his chin in his hands. He was torn, he knew that Avanda needed to rest, that she had been through a lot, and that waking her up would do no good. On the other hand, he really wanted her to wake up and tell him what to do.

He finally leaned back in his chair, groaning and running his hands through his hair. “God, Av, there’s a reason this is your job and not mine.”

He jumped when Avanda coughed. “Oww.” She groaned.

Nyar shot upright again and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Av? Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Cold.” She grunted. Her hand reached up to the breathing tube and her fingers started to tug at her nose.

“Hey, you gotta leave that there.” Nyar reached up and gently moved her hand away.

“Hate cannulas.” She grumbled.

“I know, but it’s helping.”

“Bullshit.”

Nyar laughed a little. “Other than cold, how are you feeling?”

“Hungry.”

“The nurse said it’s gonna be a while until you can eat, they need to wait for you to wake up some more.”

“So? I’m a doctor, I outrank her.”

“You can’t pull rank here, Av.”

“Sure I can. I’m a doctor.”

Nyar shook his head and smiled. “Did the doctors or anybody tell you what’s...uh, what … what happened?”

She squinted and shifted, her hand gently probing her abdomen and muttering a little. “Broken ri-two broken ribs, at least, hell of a headache, so I’m guessing at least a bit of a concussion. Plus I heard a decent bit of talk about aortas, so I’m thinking at least a knick from that stupid hunk of glass?”

Nyar nodded, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Hey,” She threw a lopsided grin at him and drew out the last letter, “All drugged up and still whippin’ out diagnoses like a pro.”

Nyar nodded and squeezed her hand again. “That’s my girl.”

She hummed a little and her eyes closed again. Nyar figured she was going to drift off to sleep so he leaned back in the chair, ready to drift off himself. His eyes were just sliding shut when Avanda jolted and gasped, a strangled cry escaping her lips.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Ewan, where’s Ewan? Is he ok, he was on that mission! If he heard about this he’s gonna worry, and then he’ll do something stupid, he wont be focusing, have you heard from him?” Her eyes were wild and darting around the room, and she was straining to get out of the bed.

“Whoa, hey. Easy there, Doc. Ewan is fine. He’s with Thane, they’ll watch each other’s backs.” Nyar gently pushed her back to the pillow. “They’re the best soldiers we have, they’ll be alright.”

“But,...you haven’t heard from them?” Avanda’s lip quivered a little and her eyes were pleading.

Nyar hated himself, but he decided that maybe lying would be best here. “Yeah. I’ve heard from them. Ferret went to get them, they’re both ok.” He reached up and placed a hand on the side of her face, praying that she was on enough drugs that she wouldn’t be able to keep track of time.

Avanda sighed, and her body relaxed, “Ok. Thank you, Nyar.”

Nyar smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’m here for you.”

Avanda looked around the room, her eyes landing on the beeping monitors next to her. “What’s that one say?” She pointed to one of the screens, squinting, “In the lower left corner, what’s it say?”

“Um, I’m not real sure.” Nyar squinted, “It’s some numbers--”

“What are they?” She tried to sit back up.

“Hey, Avanda, you aren’t the doctor here, remember? You’re the patient. You need to relax, ok?” Nyar pushed her back again.

“Where’s Ewan?”

Nyar checked his phone, and his stomach dropped. Still no word from Jace.

“He’s on his way.”

“Did he say anything about the boys?”

Finally, a question he could answer. “Castor is going to pick them up from school, then bring them right here.”

“Ok.” Avanda fidgeted her fingers, toying with one of the IVs.

Nyar took her hand again and pulled it away from the IV. “You need to rest.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious.”

Avanda pulled her eyes away from the screens for a minute, a confused look on her face.

“You need to let it go. You aren’t the doctor. There are nurses and doctors here who are working hard to make sure you recover. You aren’t responsible for Peadar and Carrick right now. Castor has been taking care of them their whole lives, he can do it again today. You weren’t assigned to that mission, Ewan and Thane are ok.” Avanda blinked and Nyar saw a few tears welling up, so he moved his chair a little closer to the bed. “And you aren’t alone, right? I’m here. You don’t need to worry about anything, because I’m right here, and I won’t let anything happen to you, ok?”

Avanda sniffed.

“You’re safe.”

Avanda didn’t say anything. She just looked away from him and back at the screens and monitors.

“I promise.”

“Thank you.” Her accent was thicker than he had heard it in a long time.

“You can rest now.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s ok. That’s my job.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes were shut now, and the grip in her hand was starting to relax. “Thank you.” Her breathing was slowing down, and becoming more even. “Thank you, Ny…”

Nyar squeezed her hand. “It’s gonna be ok.”

He wasn’t sure if he was saying it more for her benefit, or his. He stayed in the room for a while longer, dosing a little next to her bed while she slipped back under. His phone buzzed and he jumped.

We're here. Out in the waiting room. Cas just got us checked in.

Nyar squeezed Avanda's hand a little. "It's ok, Av. The troops are rallying." He teased.

He made his way down the hall again to the waiting room. Jace was standing behind Carrick, eir hands on his shoulders and his backpack slung over one shoulder. The thirteen year old's eyes were red and he was staring at the floor. The scowl plastered on his face told Nyar that he was still trying not to cry. Peadar was wrapped around Castor's leg, sniffling and hiccuping as he wiped his eyes.

"Hey." Nyar's voice was raw still as he stepped closer to them.

"How is she?" Castor demanded.

"The doctor said she'll be ok. I can't get a call to her parents though, I have no idea where else to try calling."

Castor nodded. "Ok. That's fine, I can call them. She's ok though?"

Nyar chewed his lip a little, shooting a glance at Peadar. "She's….she's ok. She's sleeping now. Or, well, she was When I left the room, anyw-"

"You left her alone?" Castor practically bellowed.

Nyar frowned, feeling his cheeks flush as he opened his mouth to snap back.

"Hey! He was in the crash too, Cas." Jace reminded Castor. "Besides, we did text him and tell him to come out here to meet us."

Castor's shoulders dropped a little and he let out a pent up breath. "Yeah, yeah you're right. Sorry, Frostbane. I'll go sit with her a while. What room is she in?"

"297." Nyar said. He watched as Castor patted Peadar's shoulder and began to lead the young boy to the door. "Castor, wait."

Castor scowled at him angrily for a moment. "I just...I'm not sure she'd want the kids to see her like this." He leaned in a little as he spoke, keeping his voice as low as he could. "She's in pretty rough shape, I just...I think maybe it would be better if you went and saw her first, then you can decide for yourself after."

Castor glanced down at Peadar quickly, then nodded. "Yeah ok. Carrick, here. Go see if you guys can find something to play with, ok?"

The thirteen year old scowled and took Peadar's hand, pulling him away from Castor.

Castor nodded a little,then shot a look to Nyar. "Thank you. I'll try not to leave you with them for long."

Jace sat down next to Nyar, watching Carrick and Peadar pick through the small toy box, halfheartedly looking for something to keep them busy. Ey frowned, looking at Nyar.

"Are you ok?"

"...No." Nyar answered. "I should have paid better attention, I should have seen the car, I should-"

"Ny. She's gonna be ok." Jace promised. "The doctor said so, right?"

"I guess." His voice was raw.

He didn't say much else after that. Carrick and Peadar both came up at some point, asking some little question or other, which Jace thankfully took care of for him. Castor finally came back, waving the boys back with him. As soon as the door closed, Jace reached over and took Nyar's hand.

"Hey." Ey said softly, squeezing his hand. "It's ok."

Nyar opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Jace wrapped eir arm around his shoulders, tracing a thumb over his cheek from the side. He sniffed a little and wiped his eyes.

"What if it isn't?'' He asked quietly.

Jace let out a soft sound and leaned eir head against him. "It will be. She's in good hands. And you were there for her too. You got her here, you did a good job keeping her alive."

"I just did what she told me to do."

"You stayed calm. You followed instructions and you did what needed to get done. That's hard to do, especially in the situation you were in."

Nyar said nothing. Jace sighed and leaned against him. Ey pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then leaned away, aware that the rest of the crew would be arriving at any moment. Ey kept holding Nyar's hand, tracing a thumb over his knuckles.

Nyar squeezed Jace's hand as he leaned back as well, resting his head on the wall behind him.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Jace squeezed his hand as well. "And I'm really glad you're ok. I can't tell you how scared I was when you said what happened."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Ey pressed a kiss against his fingers. "I'm just so glad you're safe."

"Me too."

He just hoped they'd be able to say the same about Avanda.

#whump wednesday #tw hospital #tw car accident #avanda insp #nyar insp #worry #hurt/comfort #castor #jace #ask to tag #caretaker!nyar #whumpee!avanda

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