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gayvillainera · 1 year

Note

Prompt: Danny/Rebecca: “You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” Also, I adore your fic! Can't wait for more!

Anon, thank you so much for this prompt!! Also I promise the next chapter is coming soon once I iron out some kinks (ha).

I had so much fun with this and oh no I think it sparked a new fic idea, please enjoy this ~1100 word scene! CW for implications (but nothing graphic) of domestic abuse and consensual light s/m

“I wonder what it would be like if Maxim were to die.”

Mrs. Danvers stared at her for a moment, as if to assess whether this was a serious matter for discussion or simply an attempt to elicit a reaction. But Rebecca’s eyes were cast down, studying the blouse in her hands as she ran her fingers over the newly repaired seams. A third option, then: she’d simply had a thought and decided to state it aloud.

“Oh?” She paused to slip a dress onto its hanger. “Does the thought worry you?”

But Rebecca was quiet. She’d had more quiet spells recently, but then, there’d been more incidents as well. First with Major Lacy, then Mr. Crawley’s rather dubious confessions to Mr. de Winter just a few months later. It had been enough to draw a cold fog over the house. Oh, Rebecca had laughed to Danny and tossed her hair. She’d denounced both men as weak, wicked men who would rather feign loyalty to wife or master than admit they’d been willing enough in their flirtations. But Mrs. Danvers could hear what Rebecca didn’t say, the small details she stepped daintily around in their conversations. And besides, the servants saw everything, and talked enough to fill two estates with their gossip.

“How would it happen?”

Rebecca met her gaze steadily, only the smallest hint of a frown between her eyebrows. Something else passed silently between them: Yes, said Rebecca’s eyes, you understand duty and obligation well enough. I’m arriving at such an understanding myself.

“Well, he hardly does anything of interest, so I’m sure it would be something awfully boring,” she replied with a sniff. “No boating accidents or foreign illnesses. And the staff are too devoted for one of them to go mad and simply attack him, nor are any of my lovers jealous enough to do the same.” At this, she considered Danny’s face, cast a casual glance over the strength of her arms, her hands. Danny watched her do it. “I’ve set their expectations too well, I suppose.”

Mrs. Danvers turned back to the laundry basket. “We train our staff too well to make the sort of terrible mistake that might cause someone to fall seriously ill or become injured. Unless, of course, we hired someone young and naïve, and what a terrible guilt they’d have to carry if such a thing did happen.”

Rebecca grunted softly. “Yes, that’s true. He hunts, he attends whichever balls and dinners and races he can’t squirm his way out of. Nothing there.” She ran her fingers over the fresh stitches again, so small and neat you’d never see them if you didn’t know they’d been put there, if you hadn’t seen the tear they’d drawn together and erased.

“But he does have such a terrible temper, you know. Not in front of the rest of them, but. Well.” She gave a terrible, soft laugh and Mrs. Danvers had to restrain herself from rushing over to her at the sound. Whether to sooth or to offer up a reservoir to store the anger that simmered under that laugh, even she wasn’t sure, but either way she held herself stiff and still and only quirked an eyebrow at her. “Anyway, they say men with tempers often have such weak hearts after all. They can work themselves up into a fit of rage so violent that their hearts can’t take it and they stop working altogether. Sometimes. I suppose there’s that, then.”

She brought a hand up to brush at the spot on her upper arm where he’d grabbed her. There was only a faint green mark there now, but it was the first one he’d given her, and so it would be forever in her mind even as it faded from her body.

Mrs. Danvers’ jaw ached, and suddenly she couldn’t keep up the pretense any longer. “It’s a pity you’d have to wait for such a chance to occur, then.”

Rebecca’s head snapped up, and she took in the trapped-animal tension in Danny’s body: the hunch of her shoulders, the skirt fisted in her hands, the wide-eyed defiance on her face, so properly terrified now that she’d quit their little game.

Usually, Rebecca liked to play a game out until she’d won or she was bored. But here was something more interesting, with a tantalizing possibility at its end.

She stood, took two slow steps towards Danny, hands out, as if she was approaching a skittish horse. “Go on.”

Slowly, her shoulders came down. Her eyes widened just a fraction further.

“There couldn’t be any accidents. No questions. I could take care of it, but you would have to play it perfectly. No cause for concern.”

“You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” To soften the accusation, Rebecca reached out and smoothed Danny’s hands, dropped the skirt back into the basket and tucked her own fingers into Danny’s fists.

“Yes.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.” Their hands tightened with every word until they stood white-knuckled, clasping each other.

“Then you’d need to be perfect too. If I’m to lose him, I can’t lose you. There’s no romance in dying, you know.”

Danny stared into her eyes and drew their hands up until they were loosely draped around her neck. How many times had they been posed like this, Danny gasping Go on, do it, you won’t hurt me, Rebecca gnashing and groaning in response until at last she collapsed in sobs, in a moment safely gathered in Danny’s arms, stroked and shushed and murmured at until at last all of the anger he’d given her was gone, until at last she would peer up at Danny and ask if she was all right, too, and things were set right again?

No romance in dying, but intimacy in violence – a bond in shelter, in willingness to take and give, in mending rather than discarding. They never spoke of it except in this way, in the glances they’d long learned to decipher.

“I have always been exceptional at my job, Rebecca. Perfection will not be difficult.” Her throat vibrated with the words. Rebecca pressed her thumbs ever so slightly into Danny’s skin to meet them.

“Of course it won’t be. Not for you. I should have expected you’d… Of course.” She smiled shyly up at Danny. “I always knew I’d only let a man hit me once. But I should’ve known you wouldn’t let him do it again either.”

Mrs. Danvers stroked Rebecca’s hair with one hand. “I am ever in your service, Madam.”

“Manage this, Danny,” she replied, placing a kiss on her knuckles, “and I will be ever in your debt. Now, don’t tell me one thing more, unless you need me to play some part in it. And soon we’ll be free.”

#rebecca das musical #rebecca de winter #mrs danvers #danbecca #my fic

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marvelmusing · 2 years

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Break In

Part of the Guilty of Love AU

Pairing: Vigilante!Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your investigation leads you to the apartment of Billy Russo, providing you with an opportunity to turn the tables.

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: My vigilante!Billy is what I think would have happened if Billy wasn’t working for Rawlins and didn’t know about the hit on the Castles. So him and Frank are both cleaning up the streets of New York one criminal at a time.

Also I haven’t proofread this fully since I’m a little ill atm, so sorry if some of it doesn’t make sense or is spelt wrong.

My Masterlist

You tug the scrap of paper out of your pocket, checking the address for the fifth time. You’re definitely in the right place. Right now, you’re twenty feet away from the front door of Billy’s apparent apartment building. The intel you’d uncovered was old, but you’re certain that it’s all the more reason why Billy would be hiding out here instead of one of his more newer properties.

Even if it is his apartment, you know he won’t be there now. At this time, he’ll be at your doorstep, leaving a letter or a gift, which makes you feel a little guilty at the thought of breaking into his apartment. But then you remind yourself that he broke into your house. With this thought in mind, you enter the building.

You knew that Billy would realise that someone had been in his apartment, most likely as soon as he returned home. So, in an attempt to reassure him that it was only you, you had brought a box full of pastries and a note. Two notes actually. One was a lighthearted remark, about giving him a taste of his own medicine. The other note was currently weighing heavily on your mind. You’d scribbled it down as you overheard some of your coworkers talking about an upcoming op. You know that Billy will want to get his hands on the man your colleagues are after. So you wrote down the radio channel code that would be used during the op. Even as you make your way up the stairs towards his front door, you’re debating with yourself, trying to decide which note to leave.

It takes you quite some time to get around all the locks, but you manage it. A rush of triumph fills you as the door swings open, and you suddenly feel almost excited.

You weren’t really sure what you were expecting his apartment to look like. After all, this was only a temporary place since his old apartment had been seized by your superiors when he was first discovered as a vigilante.

But this apartment is nice. The furniture looks rustic, probably second hand, but it suits the room. There’s a leather couch, and a cosy looking armchair, alongside a coffee table. The apartment is relatively small, so there’s no room for a dining table.

There’s a line of mugs along the windowsill in the kitchen, and everything is kept neat and tidy. You set the box of pastries down on the counter, leaving both notes in your pockets.

An almost eerie stillness follows you as you move quietly over to his bedroom. You don’t even think about touching the guns and knives scattered throughout the apartment. Billy would know in an instant if any of them had been moved even slightly.

His bedroom is as neat as the rest of the apartment. You stare down at his pillow for a long moment, trying to suppress the urge to bury your face into his scent. Your mind unhelpfully insists that no one will ever know. With a sigh, you pick up the pillow, bringing it to your nose. You frown as you’re greeted by a familiar scent - even more familiar than Billy’s cologne or even his natural musk. Because it’s your perfume. Drawing in several deep breaths, you’re one hundred per cent certain that Billy’s pillow smells of your perfume.

You know that Billy will have observed all your toiletries when he visited your house, but you’re still surprised. Placing the pillow back, you turn your attention to his cupboards, and you soon find a nearly new bottle of your perfume.

You can’t shake the image out of your head. Of Billy curling his arms around his pillow, burying his face against the soft fabric as he imagines its you. It’s how you feel when you’re wearing his sweater, as if he has his arms around you. Your mind soon wanders to thoughts of actually sleeping beside him, legs entangled, pressed against his chest with his arms holding you tight.

Taking a leaf out of Billy’s book, you pull out your phone and search the internet for a bottle of his cologne. You bookmark the website, before you continue to look around the room. There isn’t much in the way of personal items, after all he’s only been staying here for a few months. It’s likely that the things he values most have been stored somewhere else to keep them away from the authorities.

On his bedside table, there’s a small photo frame. The picture inside is a little creased, the fold lines show that it’s spent some time tucked away in a pocket. You recognise Billy immediately. A pair of sunglasses perched on the top of his head, and a dazzling smile on his face. You also recognise Frank Castle standing next to Billy, with his arm around a beautiful woman who’s smile almost rivals Billy’s. From the way Frank is leaning his head against hers, and the carefree look on his face, you can only presume that this is Maria Castle. Meaning that the little boy wrapped playfully in Billy’s arms must be Frank Jr, and the girl next to Maria must be Lisa. The Castle Family. Billy’s family.

You had heard about the massacre at Central Park. A shootout between rival gangs, with innocent civilians caught in the crossfire. Castle’s entire family had been killed, and even he should have died from the bullet wound to the head.

You know Billy and Frank’s files nearly by heart, meaning you know how much they mean to each other. That they’re each other’s family. From looking at this photo, you finally realise just how much that’s true. That Billy lost his family that day too.

The floorboards creak slightly as you make your way back to the kitchen. Pulling both notes out of your pocket, you worry your fingers over the edge of the paper.

If you give him the resources to take out his next target, you’re responsible for a man’s death. A criminal - you remind yourself - but technically Billy is also a criminal. A criminal that you’ve become far too attached to. A criminal that you should have turned in.

By placing this note down, you’re aiding and abetting in someone’s murder.

Your mind falls back to the picture at Billy’s bedside. The happy family he had once had.

You stare at both pieces of paper again, before making your decision.

»»---------------------►

Billy notices a small dent in his door frame. It’s almost unnoticeable, but he’s been living under the radar for a while now, and knows when something is up. He glances down the deserted hallway before pulling his gun out. He enters the apartment slowly, his guard up. He scans each room, frowning when he finds no one. As he returns to the kitchen he looks down at the box on the counter. He opens it carefully, and the sugary scent of baked goods fills his nose.

There’s only two people in the world who know his favourite bakery. Frank, and you. Frank isn’t the type to surprise him with pastries, which leaves only one answer. You found him. He’s impressed, and a little confused. Yes, he turned up at your house a few times, and you could have arrested him there and then. But you didn’t, which he could understand to some extent. He hadn’t threatened you, or hurt you, he couldn’t bear the thought of such a thing. He could understand you enjoying his company on occasion.

But this? You knew where he was. Instead of telling your superiors, instead of cracking the case of your career, you brought him pastries? Then he notices the note.

Channel 5-A. 155Hz. 9pm tomorrow. Please be careful.

»»---------------------►

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @restingbitchsblog @tiredbeebo @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @hummelmi @nyx2021 @skybridgerton

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #vigilante billy russo #billy russo x female reader #billy russo the punisher #billy russo fic #billy russo fluff #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo drabble #marvel au #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #the punisher #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader

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fandomlit · 3 years

Text

neutral, chap. 9 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary george presents ghostbur and tommy a letter from king eret, who offers ghostbur the opportunity of his life (or death?). the boys keep you clueless to ghostbur’s dilemma, and you’re instead distracted by an urgent letter from technoblade which leaves you needing to get to him as soon as possible. the boys assure you that they’ll be fine and they’ll protect neutral in your absence, but an unexpected visitor makes an appearance just after you leave..

warnings swearing, mentions of death and war

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gif cred belongs to @minecraftgifs

“morning, tommy,” y/n greeted when he finally dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen. “i was just about to make breakfast. any suggestions?”

“uh..,” tommy hummed through a yawn. “i dunno. ghostbur?”

“i said french toast,” the ghost muttered quietly, a cup of hot tea already in hand.

“sounds good,” tommy nodded, taking a seat next to ghostbur at the table.

“you two are tired this morning,” y/n commented as she gathered her ingredients. “stay up late last night?”

tommy and ghostbur shared a look. “yeah. i guess.”

y/n gave them a curious look over her shoulder but decided not to say anything further. “alright, keep your secrets. i’ll figure it out eventually.” she hummed to herself as she moved to preheat the stove, and tommy drew his eyes to the table.

he didn’t know if they’d ever tell her what happened the night before.

“hey, you two.” the boys looked up from the game they had been playing to see george had entered the kitchen. he held out a letter to ghostbur. “it’s from the king.”

“eret?” ghostbur questioned, taking the letter with confusion.

george nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets as the boys looked to the regal, rainbow seal on the envelope. “he said it was urgent.”

ghostbur nodded. “thanks, george.”

“no problem,” george nodded in return. “take care of y/n for me, alright?”

“yes, sir,” tommy waved before george turned and left the house. wilbur broke the wax seal. “what do you think eret wants?”

“im not sure,” ghostbur muttered, his hand pausing opening the envelope. “they’re kind of unpredictable.”

“you think so?”

“i know so,” ghostbur sighed, finally taking the letter out of the envelope and unfolding it. tommy leaned over to read it with him.

it was two simple paragraphs of a letter, the handwriting neat and the message to the point. when tommy finished, he noticed ghostbur’s grip was tighter on the page. tommy’s wide eyes whipped up to his friend. his brother.

“holy fuck.” ghostbur’s distressed eyes turned to him.

ghostbur gulped, looking back at the letter. he voiced, as if speaking it would make the idea any more real to them, “eret wants to revive me.”

“holy shit.”

“do you want a cup of tea, tommy?” y/n asked politely, snapping him from his thoughts of the night before. his head snapped up to see her gazing at him patiently. he finally registered her question.

“oh, sure,” he nodded. she handed him a warm cup. “thank you.”

she hummed in response. “you know, there are tales about what terrible things can happen to boys who don’t get enough sleep.”

tommy raised his eyebrows with a sarcastic look. “im not five, y/n.”

“i know,” she laughed as she mixed her batter. “im not either, but i completely believe in the nightwalker.”

“oh, you’re just as bad as phil,” ghostbur chuckled as he took a sip of tea. y/n gave him an amused glance.

tommy sighed, setting down his cup and resting his elbows on the kitchen table. “alright. i cave. what the hell’s a nightwalker?”

“you sure you wanna know?” y/n sighed dramatically. “i mean, you’re not five, tommy.” ghostbur let out a loud laugh at tommy’s deadpan expression.

“i can’t win with you, woman!”

she laughed out as she began to place soaked pieces of bread onto the pan atop the stove. “im just saying-” she cut herself off, looking over her shoulder as her brow furrowed. they allowed the room to engulf in silence, but tommy noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

“what-” y/n shushed ghostbur when he attempted to talk, quickly wiping her hands off. they strained their ears in the silence once more, and that’s when they heard it; the distance whooshing of distorted wind and distant calls.

“that’s the nether portal,” y/n spoke quickly, rushing out of the kitchen. the boys exchanged a look before following her down into the basement.

when they entered the portal room, a piglin was waiting for them. standing at nearly nine feet tall, tommy took an unconscious step behind ghostbur as the piglin swept his intimidating vermillion gaze over their trio. but his eyes locked on y/n, and he presented her a letter. a common theme of the last couple hours, tommy noted.

she took the letter, nodding politely to the piglin. he nodded in return with a soft snort before stepping back into the portal and disappearing back into the world beyond it, leaving only the remnants of a hot breeze in his wake.

tommy finally stepped forward when y/n unfolded the letter. “what is it?”

y/n gasped softly. “it’s from technoblade.” tommy looked back to watch ghostbur frown as y/n scanned the letter. “he’s hurt.”

“hurt?” tommy repeated, turning back to y/n.

“he’s hiding out at a piglin village,” she spoke slowly as she read, placing a stressed hand over her heart. “he says he got hit with a withering effect, took a couple bad hits to the shoulder.. he’s holding up, but resources are low.” she looked up to tommy, and he immediately saw the panic in her eyes. her hands were now shaking, her eyes wide and voice low and serious as she said, “he needs help. i..” she ran a hand through her hair as she let out a shaky sigh.

“hey, it’s fine,” tommy assured, placing a hand on her shoulder. “go help him.”

she shook her head, closing her eyes as she spoke, “no, i couldn’t leave you two-”

“y/n,” tommy cut as she looked back at ghostbur. she looked back to him. “we’re gonna be fine. i can cook now, ghostbur can..”

“tell you what to cook,” ghostbur offered.

“yeah. sure.” y/n smiled at the boys and tommy repeated, “we’ll be fine. go help our guy.”

she nodded. “i’ll go start packing.” she reached the doorway before remembering, “oh my god, the french toast!” her pace quickened.

neither of them spoke until they heard the trapdoor close after her.

“have you thought any more about eret’s offer?” tommy asked quietly.

ghostbur shrugged, his gaze drawing to the floor. “couldn’t sleep last night, if that means anything.” tommy nodded, pursing his lips. “im not going without telling y/n, though. she deserves to know.”

“i agree,” tommy voiced. “that means you have more time to make your decision, then.” when ghostbur didn’t say anything, he continued, “‘cause who knows how long she’ll be gone with techno.”

“hopefully not too long,” ghostbur grumbled as he turned his body to the exit of the room. “shall we get some french toast?”

“as long as it’s not burnt.”

...

“there’s plenty of food and ingredients in the fridge, but make sure you’re tending to the gardens,” y/n listed quickly as she filled a satchel with potions. tommy tried to internally list them off as she packed them, but he found she had a few that he was unsure of. in any other moment, he’d question her under the sun went down. but she needed to leave. “the potatoes will be ready in a few days, you just need to dig one up to see if it’s ready before you harvest all of them. just make sure you replant, since potato season is nearly over. if anyone stops by, tell them im sorry, but please offer them a meal and be kind, tell them i’ll be gone a week at most. my recipe book is-”

“in the drawer to the left of the fridge, i know,” tommy spoke. “and the gardening book is right next to it.” y/n closed her bag, offering tommy a smile as he continued, “we’ll be fine, y/n. it’s only a few days.”

“i know, just..” she shook her head and guided them to exit the small potion room in the basement, making their way to the portal room. “i worry. i hate that i can’t be everywhere at once.”

tommy shrugged. “would’ve made the war a lot easier, im sure.”

she nodded with a considering look as ghostbur joined them. “probably. i’d rather not test the theory, though.” tommy chuckled and she offered him another smile. she opened her arms to him. “be safe.”

“i should be saying that to you,” tommy scoffed, returning her embrace. though tommy could admit, he felt uneasy about her going into the nether by herself, her warm embrace and the scent of sweetness lingering on her skin brought a kind of comfort to him just before she pulled away from him and turned to ghostbur. she was going to be fine; he was sure of it.

“wanna give me the speech about potato farming?” ghostbur joked, holding his arms out to her.

she shook her head with a laugh. “i know you kill every plant you touch. tommy’s in charge of the garden.”

ghostbur’s jaw dropped in offense as she hugged him, giggling into his chest. he couldn’t help but grin down at her, and tommy had to look away before he admitted to himself that the sight was endearing.

“be good, boys,” y/n smiled, shifting her bag and quiver on her shoulder. “treat neutral well.”

“yes, ma’am,” tommy nodded, and y/n offered one last wave before stepping into the portal. she was gone in a quick flash of purple and hot air. “so,” tommy sighed, turning to ghostbur, “what do you want for lunch?”

ghostbur raised his eyebrows. “chicken tacos?”

tommy threw his hands up as they began their walk out of the basement. “i can’t only make chicken tacos! there’s no growth in skill if i make the same thing over and over!”

ghostbur let out a scoff mixed with a laugh, earning him a curious look from tommy as they reached the ladder. “you sound like y/n.” tommy rolled his eyes as he climbed the ladder, ghostbur following after he lifted himself to the floor above. “she really is becoming your mother.”

tommy gave him a curious look when he reached the main floor. “did she say that to you?”

ghostbur shrugged. “she said you’re starting to feel like a child to her.” tommy raised his eyebrows, averting his gaze from his friend. “is that a bad thing, tommy?”

“no,” tommy said immediately. “it’s just..” he felt himself flush and nearly cursed himself. “she feels like a mother to me, so, it’s fine.”

ghostbur grinned at tommy’s embarrassed expression. “aw, tommy!” he slung an arm around the blonde’s shoulder, ruffling his messy hair with his other hand. “you have a mother figure!”

“ow, cut it out, man!” tommy yelled out, feeling his cheeks heat up further.

“no, it’s cute,” ghostbur laughed out, pinching tommy’s red cheek as he tried to wiggle away from the taller man. “you and y/n are an adorable mother-son duo! it’s precious!”

“no, it’s not!” tommy groaned, trying to push ghostbur’s cold hands away from his face. “i take it all back, y/n’s my worst enemy!”

“too late now, tommy! you’ve told me too much!”

“am i interrupting something?”

all motion stopped. the boys turned toward the main entrance of the home, ghostbur’s arm still slung around tommy’s shoulder as they both came face to face with a masked, cross-armed dream.

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comment or message me if you would like to be added <3

#dream smp x reader #dream smp fanfic #dream x reader #dream fanfic #platonic!tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit fanfic #ghostbur x reader #ghostbur fanfic #alivebur x reader #alivebur fanfic #wilbur x reader #wilbur fanfic #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound fanfic #gnf x reader #gnf fanfic #technoblade x reader #technoblade fanfic

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wing-ed-thing · 3 years

Text

Mob Wife (Kakuzu x Reader, ft. Hidan) Part IV

Synopsis: The Akatsuki are in emergency mode. Kakuzu leads Hidan to the only place he knows for sure is safe to regroup.

Word Count:

Warnings/Tags: Violence, Blackmail, Language, Fem!Reader, HouseWife!Reader, Moll!Reader, Attempt at Humor, Ceremonial Drinking of Sake, Traditional Wedding

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Finale

Notes: It’s back. Writing Hidan has got me feeling a certain way rn

It rained on your wedding day: weather fitting for, and not minded by, a criminal and a deserter. As you approached the temple, he tried to tell you many times that you were going to be turned away, but as you spoke to the shrine masters, you were greeted warmly and welcomed. You were young with a warm face that offset Kakuzu’s intimidating exterior. Everyone always loved you right away, a way about you that Kakuzu could never begin to consider replicating. With your open heart, you brought a foreign concept into his world: acceptance. The few priests and priestesses at the temple on the border of the Land of Stone looked upon you kindly, a kindness that you and Kakuzu continued to repay years later. The small village of a few hundred that housed that shrine would never see a shinobi attack. Now, only you continue to repay years later.

You could tell that Kakuzu didn’t like being in the temple in the slightest. He had never been one for religion or structure or ceremonies, so you tried not to laugh the first time you saw him in his montsuki haori hakama. You wondered how much grumbling went into getting Kakuzu in such formal attire with a goofy, lopsided grin. Even as he gazed upon your amused, upturned lips, his infamous temper laid unusually dormant. Kakuzu never thought that he would see his own wedding day. Being the kind of man he was, he never thought that he’d have one. He didn’t think that he deserved it, but for once as you stood in front of him in your shiromuku, all of his jaded thoughts seemed to fade. Of course with you, all doors opened.

Kakuzu knelt next to you at the shrine, ever stoic. He put his hair up before the ceremony and secured it neatly behind his head. You remembered it when it was short. As the priest announced your marriage to the gods, you couldn’t help but glance at Kakuzu out of the corner of your eye. He held himself together better than you imagined he would.

“Well, yes. I am an adult,” he would tell you later.

But at that moment, he received the first sakazuki. The priest's vessel tipped over the small cup two times before pouring. Kakuzu brought the dish up to his lips and took three sips: pointless seeing that neither of you had parents, but traditional nonetheless. You were taught to always honor your ancestors, but you doubted that Kakuzu felt the same. You received your cup and the same sake, taking the same three sips and the ceremony went on. The second sakazuki represented your vow to care for each other. You received a slightly larger cup and once again, you each touched the sake to your lips three times. The third represented fortune and fertility.

The Heavens, the Earth, and the People.

You offered Kakuzu a light smile as you moved to the next part of the ceremony, a gesture to assure him that it was almost over. He would have rolled his eyes in any other setting, but Kakuzu didn’t even have to speak for you to know exactly what he meant. You knew that more than anything, he was happy to be with you. Out of all the things that he had done as a shinobi, he could handle a stuffy ceremony.

“I thought you liked stuffy things,” you teased him later, parts of your robes slung over forearms and shoulders for better mobility as you walked through the gardens. Your hand rested in his as you balanced yourself on some raised, rock ledges. His expression could have easily been mistaken for exasperation as he scoffed, but you knew better. He looked happy. “You’re a shinobi. Now that’s stuffy!”

The priest had you stand and you received a flowering branch to offer to the gods. As you held the sprig in your hand, you glanced at Kakuzu. His eyes met your own and you quietly prayed over your offerings before presenting them together, stem first. You bowed together, the rituals vaguely familiar to you as you performed them.

With the blessings of the gods, you had received your rings. Your thumb ran over the skin of Kakuzu’s hand. They had a familiar gruffness to them and held smooth bumps from old scars. His fingernails were short. You slid the band onto his ring finger. The black suited him. He squeezed the fingers of your other hand. The space behind your eyes stung as you held back tears watching as he placed the ring on your hand.

Neither of you had family, so you thanked the shrine priests and priestesses and enjoyed their hospitality. You took a single picture. It was the same frame that you held in your hands now.

Kakuzu walked out a few hours ago, taking Hidan with him. Your kitchen was, for the most part, wrecked. Your doing. Your tears had since dried up and your trembling was beginning to fade. With a shaky breath, you brought yourself to your feet. You placed the picture face-down on the counter and reached for the broom in the corner. Your heart hurt, but the world continued on. And if the world continued on, so should you.

***

You didn’t want to eat, you didn’t feel hungry, but you stood over the sink anyway biting into whatever you could pull from your fridge. You cleaned up the kitchen to the best of your ability. Trash piled up in neat bins outside: splintered wood, broken plates, and any other particles of dust that you managed to sweep up. You could handle it later. At least the rest of the kitchen was spotless. You glanced down at the thick wedding band that sat in your hand. Twirling it between your fingers, you bit into your bell pepper like an apple. That was the kind of night you were having.

A harsh pounding came from the front door and for a split second you wondered if your husband came back. Ex-husband. You didn’t think so. You kept your eyes on the kitchen window but the pounding continued adamantly. A slight shiver went down the back of your neck. The next farm wasn’t for miles. That was definitely not Kakuzu.

You put down your pepper and rolled out your utensil drawer. Your fingers danced across the kunai strapped to the bottom as you silently hoped that your training hadn’t worn off too horribly. The banging ceased as the doorknob began to rattle. The door swung open and you launched your kunai with immense velocity and precision. It was snatched out of the air.

“Fuck! That hurts like a bitch!”

Hidan stood in the entryway with his hand still held up and wrapped around your weapon. Blood dripped onto your floors as the kunai clattered to the ground. He shook out his palm, now sporting a deep gash. All you could do was stand and blink, wondering why he was there and if Kakuzu was with him. Hidan threw his cloak onto the rack. It slid, hardly staying on as he marched over to you. The door didn’t fit into its frame the same as it did before and there was no sign of Kakuzu.

“Can you patch me up, lady?” He looked around your kitchen for somewhere to sit, but found none. He dripped more onto your floors. You quickly guided his wrist over your sink and looked up at him. Beads of water fell down his face. You didn’t even hear the rain outside.

“What happened?” you asked sternly, your voice cracking a bit with worry. Hidan groaned.

“You fucked up my hand, can you at least fix me? I’m traumatized over here.” You sighed, yanking him forward before turning the running water on over his hand. You held it there for a second as if telling him to keep it there before running off to get your medical kit.

“Hidan, you have to tell me if there is an emergency,” you said as you heaved the box onto the counter from your spare room. You cleaned his palm with soap and disinfectant before applying pressure. While you didn’t have to worry about blood loss with Hidan, you also didn’t want him passing out on your kitchen floor either. That would make one more thing to clean up. “Hidan—” You pulled the gauze extra tight. He didn’t seem to be listening to you. —“Is there an emergency?”

“No, lady, it was just cold as fuck and Kakuzu’s got a stick up his ass that’s worse than usual. But you already know what that’s like.” The atmosphere stood still at the mention of Kakuzu’s name.

You knew that you shouldn’t worry about him. As far as you were concerned, he had just divorced you a few hours ago, and even if he hadn’t, you were certain that he could take care of himself. You apparently didn’t do a great job at masking your worry.

He usually didn’t care about the effect of his words, but as you frowned to yourself, Hidan couldn’t help but consider how sad you looked. He pursed his lips, never one for comforting others. For a split second, he wondered whether or not he should have brought up his partner at all. Two fingers gently bumped the bottom of your chin and you looked up at Hidan.

“Don’t look so down. It doesn’t look good on you.” He hesitated. “He’ll come back.”

You dropped his wrapped hand, not noticing that you’ve been drawing loops around his knuckles with your finger.

“I don’t know. He’s usually pretty certain about things and I can’t dwell on that.” You shook your head, turning the water back on to wash your own hands. “You have to go. I know that you have things to do and my— and Kakuzu won’t like that you’re here.” He pouted as you moved around him. You had blood to clean up.

“But it’s raining…” he pouted, expression falling in your peripheral. “And he’s miserable right now which means I’m miserable. C’mon let me stay, I’m miserable.”

“Hidan.” You turned to him and leaned on the doorway from your kitchen to your small living area. “Your partner doesn’t live here anymore.” You flicked on the entryway light, your bucket in hand. Hidan followed behind you, now taking your spot in the doorframe.

“But that doesn’t mean that I have to leave. You know he’s being stupid, but that doesn’t mean that I need to suffer out in the rain because Kakuzu’s a crotchety, old bastard.” You sighed, resting on the handle of your mop. You shook your head.

“I’m sure by the time you get to town the two of you can find somewhere to stay.”

A silence overtook the house again, full of raging, but unspoken thoughts. You squeezed out the yarns and tended to the floors. It, at the very least, gave you something to do. Hidan’s blood already dried part way and you scrubbed harder, but not before it was snatched out of your grip. Hidan shoved you over to take your place. The backs of your knees hit the armrest of the modest couch that you almost toppled down onto. He took to scrubbing.

“So what happened?” he asked.

“Sorry?” Hidan peered at you with his bright violet irises.

“I’m trying to be nice and ask you about your problems, so you better start chatting before I lose interest.” The mop splashed back into the bucket. “Who else do you get to talk to?” You pursed your lips. You knew that he was biding his time to wait out the rain, but his words weren’t wrong. The hurt still felt fresh and perhaps you were feeling a bit desperate to get it out of your system.

“I’m not sure what happened. I asked, but, well, you know how my… how Kakuzu is.” And you found yourself retelling the entirety of what happened: the argument, the ring, Kakuzu’s misplaced comments about children. You left out the part about the wrecked kitchen. “And then he said something about ‘now letting this happen’ which had to be the last straw for me.”

“Did you want brats?” Hidan had since stopped his cleaning. Surprisingly, he listened intently to your rambling as he propped himself against the wall. You swung your feet back and forth over the side of the couch.

“I never really thought about it before and Kakuzu and I never talked about it, so I don’t know why he brought it up.”

“Because he’s a dumbass who thinks too much. I never know what’s going on in that fucked up head of his. If I had a home to come to like this with a cute little thing in an apron—” Hidan scoffed. —“Fuck the Akatsuki. I wouldn’t be hiding you out here because of some band of losers in capes.” That made you laugh.

“You’re in the Akatsuki,” you giggled and Hidan raised a slender eyebrow.

“So? I’m the best one out of all those guys.”

“The best out of some band of losers?” The corners of Hidan’s lips turned upwards into a brief smile as he rolled his pretty irises.

“Listen, I got my devilish charms going for me which is better than Ragdoll. He looks like a fucking pin cushion.” Your hand came over your mouth as you laughed. Hidan looked down at where you sat, pride swelling in his chest at the prospect of cheering you up. But your face quickly morphed into something sentimental.

“Aw, but he’s a cute pin cushion…” Your bottom lip curled into a pout, but at least you didn’t look quite as sad as before. Hidan leaned a bit forward.

“He’s a little over a hundred-eight centimeters tall and has a big-ass nose.” You let out an amused breath. “I’d hardly consider that ‘cute’.”

“But it’s a cute nose. It’s slender and has that cute little bump in the middle.” Your voice grew quieter. Another silence, the third of Hidan’s visit.

It all felt too confusing for you. Maybe Kakuzu was never that interested in you in the first place. You shook your head then and there, much to Hidan’s confusion. Despite Kakuzu’s attitude towards most everything, you knew that he cared deeply about you. Perhaps he had grown bored. Despite ninja work not being of interest to you, you knew that many found the profession very exciting. You ran many profitable operations in the surrounding area, but more money could be made elsewhere, you knew that much. Your lifespan was nothing compared to Kakuzu’s nearly a century of living. He had done everything in life that he had wanted to do and all you had little to show for your existence.

You kept replaying his words about the time that you had. That you had enough time to do more. But if you really thought about it, you were content living the way you had been. You were happy and for a split second you considered whether or not Kakuzu actually saw himself as worthy of you. You shook your head for the second time. No, if anything, you considered it the other way around. You’d imagine that you would come off as boring and childlike to an immortal.

“That’s a lot of thinking.” Hidan had taken to wandering around the room. You hadn’t noticed. “Fuck thinking. You deserve better than taking care of some place in the middle of nowhere and running numbers on boring-ass shit.” You smiled again to yourself, something else that you didn’t notice.

“I actually like it here,” you mumbled. Hidan yawned.

“Can I stay now?” You deliberated to yourself before grabbing the bucket and the mop away from him. He didn’t do a great job, but you found yourself relatively uncaring at the moment.

“Yes, you can stay,” you sighed. Hidan was already halfway down the hall by the time you finished your sentence.

“Good because I was going to crash here anyway.”

@brokennerdalert @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @krispypotato @meme-queen-1999

Notes: Reader and Kakuzu had a Shinto wedding if anyone’s interested.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#kakuzu x reader #hidan x reader #kakuzu #hidan #Akatsuki x reader #akatsuki #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto imagines #naruto imagine #naruto scenarios #naruto scenario #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #x you #x reader #reader insert

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mayfieldss · 3 years

Note

hey girl! how have you been?🤍

I think your requests are open. If they aren’t you could totally ignore this!

Ok so I read a similar fic a little while ago and I had an idea for a bucky x y/n and I thought you’d do amazing with this.

Tony is throwing a party and Bucky doesn’t want to go since he’ll have to socialize so he stays in his room. Some random girl comes in by mistake since she was trying to escape the party as well and they start talking. Bucky can’t stop thinking about her and then sees her again a couple days after the party and realizes she’s a new agent who’s working at the compound.

Ok that probably sounds so bad🙈 ahaha sorry! you could totally change it and do whatever you want lol

but thank you very very much!❤️✨

I love this idea so much and I just hope I did it half the justice that it deserves. I really hope you like it.

On party business - Bucky Barnes

Buckyxfemreader

Warnings: None unless you're Steve Rogers and coarse language is an issue for you.

AN: Don't mind me venting some of my social anxiety issues through this fic...

The party was loud and busy as would be expected at one of Tony Starks infamous get-togethers. You were only here because you didn’t feel like you could refuse the invite, and how many times could a person be invited to a Party by hosted by Tony Stark? So you went along, instantly regretting the decision as soon as you walked into the compound. It was packed with dancing men and women, some holding drinks while others were grinding their bodies together. Many were sitting on couches enveloped in conversations which you doubted you would be invited into. You didn’t know anyone. Finding the clearest route through the people you made your way to the Bar. There was no way you could get through this night without downing a drink first, if not two or three. Taking a seat on one of the stools you glanced around the room hoping the night would go by faster. - Bucky hated Parties. He hated how many people would surround him, ask him questions in their drunk states and caress his Metal arm with their sticky, alcohol covered fingers. There were also the ones that would avoid him completely as well. The ones that were still wary of him despite knowing he was no longer the Winter Solider. Those people were a part of his everyday life however, so he didn't mind them as much, having been accustomed to so many living in fear of him already. This in mind, it still hurt to think nobody trusted him enough to be around him. It made it so the Winter Solider was always with him, people only seeing him as his past. So Bucky didn’t leave his room. Nobody at the Party would want him there anyway, they wouldn’t miss his presence. He sat on his bed and read his books, cleaned his boots, wrote in his journal. This way nothing unexpected could ever happen. - You’d been at the party for no more than two hours and were already aching to leave. There were too many people around for your liking, none of them paying any interest in you as you stood in the corner next to the bar. Most were shitfaced drunk, you managing to stay sober despite the circumstances. You never let yourself over drink at parties after seeing some of your past friends making the most embarrassing mistakes during your high school years. Some got tattoos or had one night stands, others posted videos of themselves on the internet for all to see or sent an embarrassing message to their ex. Making a promise to yourself in high school you told yourself to never let yourself become like them. You planned to keep that promise. Pushing your way to through the crowd you made you way to one of the many staircases attempting to get away from the storm of people surrounding you. Some swore at you as you moved your way past them, holding onto the handrail for security to avoid any drama as people shoved you back. You weren’t trying to be rude but you had to get away. Once at the top you moved quickly down the hallway to the left of you, turning each doorknob you passed, looking desperately for a room that was unlocked to be your place of refuge. Five doors later and a doorknob twisted with ease allowing you entrance. You pushed the door open in a hurry, rushing into the room without so much as a glance around. Closing the door behind you you rested your forehead gently upon its wood with a sigh. You were so relived to find an escape from the over peopled space outside of this room, finally taking a breath only for it to catch in your throat at the sound of another's presence. It was the sound of a closing book, it wasn't being slammed shut but just gently closed and you could hear the pages slap lightly against each other. Your shoulders tensed and you reached for the doorknob readying yourself to leave. "You okay?" It was the voice of a man, deep and steady. Calming somehow. Slowly retracting your hand from the doorknob you turned to face the stranger of that you had walked in on. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here. I was just trying to get away from the crowd". Your back was pressed to the door and you hands itched to reach for the doorknob again, every part of you

wishing to get out of the uncomfortable encounter. The man gave a small awkward smile and shuffled himself to the edge of the bed he was lying on, placing his feet on the ground. He was wearing cat socks and you couldn't stop the smile forming on your lips. He looked at you confused, and followed your gaze to his feet an embarrassed blush forming on his cheeks. "I like them a lot, where'd you get them?" You asked not wanting him to feel self-conscious over something as simple as a pair of socks. He simply shrugged "Can't remember honestly". You could tell he did remember and that he probably had whole draws full of the fuzzy feet warmers but you didn't overstep any more than you already had, having been in his room and all. "I guess I should go" You point behind you to the door you were leaning against, biting the inside of your cheek anxiously. You could taste the blood in your mouth from the harsh grazing of your teeth. "I'm so sorry for bothering you". You reached for the doorknob your fingers wrapping around it tightly as you were so close to your escape. "Wait" Freezing in your place you took his words more seriously than he meant them to be. You had been so close to leaving and you contemplated pulling the door open and making a run for it. He seemed to understand your discomfort "You don't have to but if you want to stay here until the party calms down a little you can". There was a silence and you regarded his proposal before turning back around to face him, keeping a hand pressed firmly to the wood of the door. "Are you sure I wouldn't be bothering you?". The man shook his head, a short laugh escaping his lips "Yeah I'm sure. God knows I need to be more social". This made you frown, not understanding how he could say such a thing when there was a very social party right outside his door. "If you need to be social you shouldn't be out there?" You waved behind you again keeping your eyes on the man in front of you. He had bright blue eyes that seemed to stare into the deepest parts of your soul, but not in the threatening way from which it would seem. They felt safe and trustworthy. He wore a grey T-shirt over a long sleeved black thermal, jeans and of course those wonderful cat socks. He seemed kind enough and you felt your stress fade the smallest bit as you took in his features. The man with the undeniably beautiful eyes shook his head at your question "I'm not fond of crowds". You had to agree with him there. You always felt uncomfortable around masses of people especially in small spaces. You had Your social anxiety to thank for that wonderful fault. It wasn't like you could help it, You tried to but it was difficult to stand being cramped together with a bunch of strangers. "I understand what you mean" You lifted your gaze from his for a second and looked around his room. It was neat and tidy, everything organized and in its own little home where it belonged. "You are very-' you paused, thinking of a word to describe the place, "-Clean". He nodded "I've had issues with people controlling me in the past, this is just one thing I feel l can make my own". The change of tone in his voice startled you, how important this was to him and the hidden pain that appeared behind the blue eyes you had grown to adore within the short minutes of knowing him. Sliding your back down the door you sat on the floor of his room staring back at him on his bed. You couldn't deny that you didn't want to go back out into the bustling hallway filled with drunken fools. So you had made the decision and decided to stay. He looked shocked by your movements and a frown began to form on his face as he shuffled closer to the wall next to his bed. "You can sit up here if you want, I can move if you feel uncomfortable with me up here too, or I can get you a chair" He sounded so sincere and the gentleman in him pleased you. You doubted any other man you had met on this night would have been so kind but you declined his offers, already feeling like a burden in his room. "It's okay, I'm fine here". You could tell he didn't

like your answer, that he wanted to get up so you could sit on the bed or get you the chair that he suggested. You sent him a smile to reassure him you were okay where you were. After a moment of silence he spoke "So you don't like parties?" You let yourself chuckle "You could say that yeah". "Why?". It took a moment to register his question fiddling with your hands, cracking your knuckles. "Same reason as you I guess, Its hard to feel accepted around people you don't know, I feel like their judging me. It makes me uncomfortable". You had no idea why you told him that but once it left your lips you couldn't take it back. It was okay though, it wasn't as embarrassing as you thought it would be when you looked up to see his understanding eyes. "But you know people here right? Friends that know you?" His head was tilted to the side, just a little, and he reminded you of a puppy. A handsome blue eyed puppy. You shook your head "Not here no, and even if I did they wouldn't really know me" Once again you shared more than was needed but it felt so easy to say, it came out before you could think the words over and there was no shame in saying the words like you thought there would be. He didn't seem bothered by them either, more like he knew where you were coming from. "What's your name?" "Bucky". You liked that name a lot. It was a nickname obviously but it suited him so perfectly and you felt so comfortable at hearing it. It was almost indescribable, the way he seemed to be telling himself what his name was as well as you. It made you even more curious, all the unknowns about the person in front of you, Bucky, that you wanted to learn. "What's yours?" You frowned "What's my what?" as soon as the words left your lips you felt stupid, so entranced by him that you were barley thinking of the conversation at hand. A smile formed on his face "What's your name?" You could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment and you struggled for words through flustered state. "Of course um- it's Y/n" You felt so stupid and looked down at your hands trying to seem unbothered, pretending that what had just happened never did. You had never been good at dealing with embarrassment and you chose to keep your head down whenever something embarrassing happened. That had started in high school as well. How easy it was to be teased for the smallest things had brought upon you the stress and anxiety you held with you to this very day. "I like that name" Bucky's words were gentle, as if they alone, were lifting your head up to look at him, like a gentle hand under your chin. "I like your name too". He smiled again at that and you looked back to your hands squeezing them together tightly. You wanted to ask him so many questions, keep a conversation flowing to stop the awkward silence that would soon settle in but you didn't want to seem weird in any way. You tried to think of something that related to your previous, extremely short, conversation. Something to add onto it, to get to know him better. "What's your full name? I know Bucky's a nickname" You were about to stop there, and you probably should have, but thought it best to clarify some more with what you meant "Not that I don't like the name Bucky, I love it actually, I just wanted to know". Curses flowed through your mind and anxiety followed as your words trailed off into the short silence before his response. You sounded so stupid and you cringed internally at how awkward you always were. "My names James. James Buchanan Barnes". You bit your lip as a smile formed on his, making your stomach do the smallest of flips. "Well It's nice to meet you James Buchanan Barnes". - Bucky hadn't expected someone like you to come through his door and he hadn't expected you to accept his offer to stay. You talked to him like he was a real person and you never said a thing about his arm. It was as though you barely noticed it and after twenty minutes you came to sit with him on the bed, the floor becoming 'unbearably uncomfortable' in your words. He made plenty of room and kept a

respectable distance between you, not wanting to come off like he was just trying to get in your pants, but you seemed to understand that that wasn't the case. You talked for another hour, silences between different conversations as you thought of ways to keep the discussion going. You were both as awkward as each other it seemed, and as time passed you both became more comfortable with the others presence. When you finally checked the time you were surprised to see how long you had stayed and got up fast to leave. Bucky didn't want you to go but it wasn't his place to tell you otherwise. You put your shoes back on, having taken them off earlier and headed toward the door. Turning back to him as you twisted the handle you pursed your lips with a small smile. He thought it was cute. "Thank you Bucky, for letting me stay". Bucky nodded "Maybe I'll see you around, if I'm lucky". You bit your lip one last time, a thing Bucky noticed you did, before you opened the door and left, closing it behind you. Bucky sat back on his bed a grin growing on his face at the thought of you, a complete stranger whose company he had grown to enjoy. He thought over the last thing he had said, 'Maybe I'll see you around, if I'm lucky'. Bucky wasn't ever very lucky but maybe the world would be on his side this time. Maybe he would get to see you again. - A week had passed since the party and Bucky sat with Sam and Steve at the compound. An argument had ensued as a result of this the three never being a stunning trio, mainly referring to Bucky and Sam's constant bickering. "That's not how it works! Come on side with me here Steve!" Sam looked over to their blonde haired friend who simply shrugged as a response. He was smart enough not to get caught up in sides between the two of them. Bucky opened his mouth to respond but someone over Sam's shoulder caught his eye, making him pause. "Cat got your tongue? You know I'm right Buck". Bucky simply ignored Sam's teasing, eyes locked on the newcomer to the room. A woman talking to Natasha. Her back was turned and her hair was down obscuring any possible view of her features from him. But he knew he recognized her. If only she would would turn around. It took another minute and now, curious, both Sam and Steve had moved their gazes to the girl. They didn't seem to know her and soon became bored turning back to each other and starting a whole new conversation from which Bucky ignored entirely. After a period of time that seemed to last forever, Natasha waved Him, Steve and Sam over and the closer Bucky got to the girl the more he recognized her. It was then that she turned, locking eyes with him. He could tell she recognized him just as he did her. It was you. He smiled. "Hey stranger". -

AN: Happy Bucky fic Friday!!!!

TAGLIST: @characters-deserve-better @posteyymaloney @agentsofsheilds @ladyfallonavenger @buckys2thicc @justifymyfeelings @winter-soldier-vibes TAGS:

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icequeenbae · 3 years

Text

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.7k (Chapter 1)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: Yay, this is happening!!! My first BaekBaёk, oml I’m gonna-

Ok. I’ll admit right off the bat that I wouldn’t be posting this any time soon without my lovely beta @baekshoney 🖤 She’s the person I turn to when I think there’s a million little things I could’ve done better, because that’s what I always think. I had to give myself a cut-off date to finally give up editing this 😅 So, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could share your thoughts and opinions on this too. My asks, dms and comments are places where you’re always welcome! Now, let’s get into this!

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove

Chapter 1. The beginning of the end

It was all too sudden.

The words he’d said deafened you. Refusing to believe what you were hearing, you shook your head and took a step back, as if doing so could start the conversation you’d just had over. Or rewind the time and allow you to prevent the words from coming out of his mouth in the first place. But he was firm, unyielding in his stance.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It’s my fault. I should’ve known better.’

Than to start this relationship, was what he meant. That he should have avoided getting in a relationship with you altogether, and breaking up with you would’ve never become an issue.

‘Why?’ You tried to speak, but your lower lip started to tremble, silencing you at once.

This was all wrong. It couldn’t have been true, what he was saying.

He licked his lips, looking away, hands forming tight fists at his sides as he tried to recollect himself and urge his body to stay frozen on the spot.

That did not work for long – the sight of you, so small, so stunned and defeated, with tears welling in your eyes while you tried to stifle them… He couldn’t. It was stupid of him to break his act so easily, but you were too precious to him to just leave you like this.

Sighing and cursing himself out in his mind, he took a stride towards you and gathered you tightly in his arms.

‘I am sorry, Y/N,’ he continued softly, hearing you hiccup in his unexpected embrace. ‘But I have to leave. We- I should’ve stayed away from you from the start. Forgive me for being so weak.’

You sobbed at his words, shaking your head stubbornly and clinging to his broad chest as an act of desperation.

‘I can come with you!’

‘No,’ he interrupted your crazy idea. ‘I’m leaving you behind. To keep you safe.’

‘Safe from what?’ You questioned, half-annoyed now.

He kept insisting that he wished to protect you, but how was leaving you all alone ensuring your security? And why would you even consider it, when you only felt safe while with him?

‘I cannot tell you. The more you know, the more dangerous it is.’

‘Baekhyunie, please,’ you wiped the tears and grabbed onto his vest as he moved to pull away. ‘You can’t just decide this on your own!’

‘Y/N,’ he took hold of your wrists, not removing them just yet. ‘I know it’s hard, and I never wanted to hurt you like this. But there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind. I’d rather break your heart than risk your life, so it’s not really a choice.’

He looked around as if to make sure you were not being watched, and then leaned in to place a farewell kiss on your temple – his favorite spot. You sniffled, realization of the inevitable setting in.

‘Just let me go, flower,’ his voice lowered to a whisper, and you sobbed at the pet name. ‘You’ll be better off without me, I promise.’

‘No,’ you protested as he freed himself from your grasp, and took a step back. ‘No, Baekhyun, don’t leave,’ you clawed at his forearm, trying to stop him. ‘We can deal with it together, we can think of something! I don’t want to be without you,’ you whimpered sorrowfully.

He shook his head, shying away from your touch, while you desperately tried to hold him back.

But you couldn’t. He gently peeled your hands off to walk away, and you missed the pained crease between his eyebrows when he turned his back on you to escape your apartment.

‘Please, don’t do this…’ You whispered, voice breaking in anguish. Just as your heart was.

Yet, Baekhyun kept walking. Leaving you to weep in the unwelcoming emptiness of your home.

Leaving you for good.

***

Your relationship with Baekhyun started almost three years ago.

Still new to university life, you found yourself in the midst of a soap opera worth of drama when a bunch of transfer students joined all at once, some even in the same year as you. All highly attractive, they usually hung out together and spent less time than needed socializing with the outside world.

Not that you cared too much – sure, the excitement going around was making you curious, but they looked too handsome, almost to the extent that you found it intimidating. Ironically, the most intimidating you found Baekhyun. His then long dark hair with strands of red and a mullet hairstyle, the sharp green eyes, the pierced eyebrow, and the lip ring that made him look like a very attractive hooligan... The piercings turned out to be just as fake as the eye color, which did not disappoint you at all.

Funny enough, you only got to know this bad boy because he took a liking to retreating to the campus library. Hiding from all of the attention, of course. While some members of his clique actually basked in it, he preferred to disappear to the remote aisles of the quiet space and read a book, or, more likely, sleep with one on his chest. You saw him like that often, since you were stuck in there yourself – essays for different classes were piling up rapidly. As a diligent student, you were determined to do well in your first year of university, so dragging yourself to the library to stay glued to your laptop was the best option.

Coincidentally, you also preferred to stay in the less lively spaces, as you tended to seek peace and quiet to focus on your assignments. Your attention span… wasn’t impressive, to say the least, so you did your best to avoid any distractions. However, you didn’t count on a certain sleep lover to be one of them.

It was not the first day you spent close enough to notice the tranquil expression he wore on his face as he was snoozing. It was, however, the first time he caught you staring mindlessly in his direction. Burning the deepest shade of red in your cheeks, you grabbed your books and quickly made yourself scarce, thanking heavens for the multiple aisles of books around. You walked around for ten minutes or so, actually placing your books back where they belonged and finding a secluded corner to check out what else was on the shelves. Squinting, you tried to read the name of the tome that had gotten your attention, and raised your arm to get it from the level that was clearly too high for you. Thankfully, someone reached over your head and helped you obtain the book. You turned around to say thank you but instead were suddenly pushed back into the shelf by the taller figure with neat red strands. Speechless, you only held your book close and gaped at him, as he leaned forward.

‘Ever heard about the cat killed by curiosity?’ He hummed, eyes piercing you from above.

You swallowed, knees getting weaker as you registered the fresh musky smell coming off of his brightly colored shirt.

To push your buttons, he decided to get even more scandalously close to you, arm holding onto the rack behind you to keep balance.

‘Nothing wrong with being curious!’ You jabbered. ‘In fact, if people preserved the curiosity they have as kids they would’ve had a much bigger learning capacity as adults.’

He huffed. You weren’t sure if he was shocked or amused, because your eyes looked anywhere but his face. In fact, they lowered enough to fix on your forearm, resting across his rib cage, and your fist pressing slightly into his pec to keep him at least at a minimal distance.

At this you gasped, eyes widening and returning to his face, only to catch an inquisitive spark in his retinas as he nudged the lip ring with his tongue. Sighing, he took a step back, finally allowing some space between you.

‘Can’t write a philosophy essay with this, little flower,’ he chuckled. ‘Or if you can… I’d be impressed.’

You looked down in confusion, understanding that the book you were holding was from a Botanics section. ‘The Oxford Book of Wild Flowers’, read the title.

But… How did he know about your philosophy assignment?

***

Only later had Baekhyun confessed that he had had an eye on you for a while by the time this incident took place, but the moment of your outburst was what got to him. When he looked down at your cornered form, holding a book to your chest so innocently, and keeping him away instinctively with one arm. He had to bite his tongue to prevent a smile from making its way onto his face. That was it for him, and even though he wanted to avoid you and keep interactions with you to an absolute minimum, he couldn’t help but find ways to draw your attention. Like that one time, when you walked out of the library because the loud noises from the outside made your concentration for the night crumble.

The source of that noise was, in fact, a certain convertible, blasting the music for the entire campus to hear. You would have come up to complain that your studying was cut short if you didn’t have perfect eyesight. It allowed you to see that there was a red-haired problem sat in the car, with a bare foot resting lazily against the panel. Ready to run the other way, you turned around, meeting a solid chest with your forehead. You discovered that it was a rather cheerful guy in the same year as you, Jongin, and the other one with him was Sehun. And those two stalled you long enough for Baekhyun to make an entrance.

It was the first time he tried asking you out. And got rejected.

However, as much as you wanted to take ownership of that and say that you were playing hard to get when you walked off and left him stunned by your refusal, that was not the case. This guy made your throat go dry at the mere sight of him! He was way too handsome, and he also looked kind of… well, he looked like he’d break your heart without thinking twice about it. And that you couldn’t allow.

But then again, good girls do tend to fall for bad boys. Or was he only pretending to be bad? You’d never heard anything that discredited him, except for the way he stared people down sometimes. That once happened to a fellow student in your class. After he sat next to you during lunch.

Actually, almost the entire week following that incident you had lunch alone because everyone kept making excuses to sit elsewhere. That was how you became friends with Jongin and Sehun. Having had a few classes together, you were more or less acquainted with each other, so you didn’t mind when Jongin suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a tray and asked you if they could join. He even had lunch with you when Sehun wasn’t around – you figured that it made Jongin even more chatty. So much so, that one day he leaned across the table to get slightly closer, and used his most clandestine voice on you.

‘You know, hyung could burn a hole in anyone next to you with his glare, but I’m immune to his ‘charms’, thankfully,’ he giggled and added, ‘Still, I think you should give him a chance. Baekhyun’s a good guy, and he’s kinda torn as it is. Asking you out was a pretty big step for him.’

Honestly, you had a hard time believing that. Baekhyun… was probably the kind of guy, who never even had to ask. You could look around and easily spot a dozen eyes that were fixed on him at this very moment. Why in the world would he want to date you, clearly not the ‘easy-going’ party type? He probably wanted to get into your pants just for sport, like the rest of the pretty boys.

‘Whatever you’re thinking, it’s far from the truth. Ugh, Junmyeon will kill me for this!’ Jongin cursed himself and continued, before you could ask. ‘Hyung looks rough around the edges, but he’s really a softie. Trust me on this.’

‘Are you his wingman or something?’ You snorted dubiously, getting a little timid from this discussion.

‘Ha, are you kidding? He’s gonna strangle me if he finds out. Like I said, he’s torn between staying away from you and persisting in his efforts to take you out. Just think about it,’ he ended with an attempted (but failed) wink.

As if to take away your chance to process the unexpected input, Jongin shoved Baekhyun in your direction the very next day. Disappearing from the cafeteria right after, of course. Envy his subtlety. But, apparently, what he said earlier had an effect, so you only nodded when a flustered figure asked for permission to sit with you. He looked quite different from the previous times you saw him up close – much less confident and intimidating. But he seemed sincere when he said he just wanted one chance.

And that was how your relationship picked up. It took a whirlwind course from the very beginning, and the hot summer before your second year of university was the most torturous time ever for the both of you. Still wary of getting played, you only trusted Baekhyun enough to get intimately close months and months into dating. And he was patient with you, going at a slow pace, letting you pull away whenever you wanted. Until you didn’t want to anymore.

That last leap of faith was a beginning in itself – a true beginning of you and Baekhyun. The final seal was broken, and you entrusted yourself fully to him, which he repaid by showering you in his affection and feelings that he himself had not come to acknowledge just then.

After a year together, you were not simply allowed into the inner circle, but also educated about the special abilities that Baekhyun and his friends had. You were first interrogated by their leader, Junmyeon, who wanted to make sure you had no ulterior motives and were not going to tell a living soul about them. He called it ‘a quick chat’ as he dragged you in a scarcely furnished room where he sat you down at the small metal table across from him. The leader asked you questions and tried reading your verbal and non-verbal cues, so it was clearly an interrogation. Junmyeon was pretty experienced in this, so he could instantly tell that you were harmless. And you also passed the test, answering the most ridiculous questions about Baekhyun – apparently, that was to make sure you were not ‘faking it’ – so, he accepted you into their family.

However, knowing too much was dangerous, so you only learned about their powers and how they came from the so-called EXO Planet when they were young (talk about dating an alien!), and that the organization they called ‘the Red’ amongst themselves wanted to hunt them down. They also used to be held hostage by these people – and that was just about as much you knew about the issue because Baekhyun kept you away from the ‘unnecessary details’. He only told you that they seemed to be hidden well in this town, surrounded by just enough people to blend in and disappear. And you worried, always, because you knew too little about the dangers surrounding the group, and even less about how you could contribute to their safety.

Baekhyun laughed when you once brought it up, finding your concern nothing but cute.

‘You don’t have to worry about it, flower. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, not the other way around,’ he then said, playing with the curly ends of your hair.

You frowned at that. Why was it not your job to take care of him? If you could help, you wanted to help. But he always brushed you off, saying that the only thing you should do to help is staying out of trouble. Like that was a challenge – you either studied or hung out with him and his friends, not much room to stir trouble. The only other person you talked to regularly was your roommate, and she was also pretty harmless.

As time went by, you got closer to your own graduation, basically, one year left before you had to figure it out for yourself again. Your boyfriend was always supportive, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he imagined your future. He was always up to something but never shared it with you since it was ‘nothing for you to worry about’. Had he not shown you his actual abilities before, you would’ve certainly thought that it was a crazy lie he told you to cover up for some kind of illegal activity. In reality, some illegal activities were going on, especially since hacking and cracking was one of Minseok’s specialties (but mostly because they needed to keep their identities out of sight). Another reason why they didn’t all go to the same school when they arrived, and also why they changed their appearance ever so often. The lucky mullet was long gone by the time you had your first Christmas together, and you had had the pleasure of seeing him in multiple hair colors throughout almost three years of your relationship. Notably, the first dozen or so make-out sessions you had with him took place when he had just cut his hair and dyed it pitch black. And he still wore his fake lip ring at the time, which was an experience in itself. He did know how to use his mouth…

Admittedly, you were kind of used to being the object of the boys’ shameless teasing every time you hung out together. The way Baekhyun kept you close and fussed about everything was, apparently, atypical for their usually chill and humorous hyung. He was their second-in-command, after all, the genius behind the strategic planning of the group, and the mind that kept them hidden for so long in one place.

Because of you.

One of the boys had previously let it slip that they hadn’t lived anywhere for that long before, maybe not even for one full year. But this time Baekhyun was determined to stay for a while, now that he had an anchor.

But the day came. When he found out that they might’ve been compromised, he got scared. The way he’d never feared anything before. And he’d been through a lot, to put it mildly. Baekhyun could maintain a cold and sharp mind at all times, that was his thing, but not when it came to you. Once he figured out that there was a real chance, that they could’ve found the EXO hideout and, thus, could connect you to the boys, he couldn’t think straight. Overwhelmed by a sudden panic, he sought advice from the leader.

‘You know it’s not me who’s supposed to decide,’ Junmyeon sighed, looking at his disheveled second. ‘I told you a relationship wasn’t a good idea. I also think that keeping her close means putting her life in jeopardy.’

His words were cutting through Baekhyun as he paced the room, long fingers grasping his own hair.

‘But it still may be a safer option than leaving her here,’ the leader added, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘We need to relocate fast, and you have the ‘better of two evils’ situation on your hands.’

‘I know I should leave her,’ Baekhyun stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the leader. ‘But what if they already know, hyung?’

‘Minseok had every trace of her erased, not a single camera in town had a glimpse of her with you. They might have found our footprints in the sand, but those don’t necessarily lead to her. I suppose they should move on as soon as they come here and realize that we’re nowhere around.’

‘Most likely, but what if-’

‘They can very well catch up to us while we run. Like I said, there isn’t a right answer, but a choice. And I think that you’ve already made it when you should give her a voice, too,’ the leader pushed.

‘I-’ Baekhyun turned away to hide the glassy eyes from Junmyeon. ‘I have to give her a chance, hyung. I cannot sentence her to a lifetime of running and danger. And I know she’s silly enough to throw herself into it if she has a say in this.’

‘And if you’re wrong? You’re going to break her heart as a precaution?’

‘She won’t die from a broken heart. Can you imagine what they’d do to her if they find out?’

Junmyeon bit his lip. This time, the choice was completely out of his hands. He thought his second was making a mistake, but it was not his place to decide. Exhaling again, he nodded.

‘Tell her in the morning. We’re moving out as soon as the rain starts.’

>> Chapter 2

A/N: So, what do you think? This is more of an introductory chapter, I know, but it covers quite a lot of their relationship with Baek. You must be excited to see where this goes and when Baёk appears? Or if Baekhyun is coming back? Me too, me too 🙈

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #baekhyun #exowritersnet #icequeenbae fics #x exo #Desert Flower #2baek #baekbaёk #exo fanfiction #baekhyun fanfic

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

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Carrots and Whiskers (JJK x Reader) 💜🔞🐾

🥕 Pairing: Rabbit!Jungkook x Wolf!Reader

🥕 Genre: Hybrid AU, fluff, smut because why not amirite-

🥕 Warnings: stereotyping, mild mentions of past bullying, fluff, oh god they’re so cute, Dom!Jungkook despite being technically food for Sub!Reader, Dirty talk, it’s sweet though he ain’t calling his baby a hoe don’t worry, unprotected sex because in this hybrid universe they’re unable to conceive due to their different species, please keep that in mind thank you, sweet sweet lovemaking, aftercare, buff boi JK, Big dick JK but what’s new I guess, yeah I’m done now

🥕 Summary: He’s the prey and she’s the predator. So why does she feel like the roles are reversed?

This is a oneshot! If you have any ideas for future content in this universe, feel free to send in asks or requests!

A reputation could easily define your entire life it it was bad enough.

Both sides knew this; Jeon Jungkook, being depicted as the cowardly prey hybrid he was, and Y/N, the bad bad wolf with always malicious intentions. However, none of these depictions were actually true.

Jeon Jungkook was an actually pretty rough and brave young man, never really backing down from a challenge, uncaring on who was in front of him. He got into trouble often as a kid, as a teenager, and now as a young adult.

Y/N was soft spoken, a caring yet quiet hybrid who liked to stay hidden, the spotlight being more of a fear than a goal for her. She loved the simple things in life, liked to be by herself or surrounded by people she trusted and loved.

And she also got a major crush on the bunny in her art and music class.

It was quite cliche really, yet it also wasn't- it was as if she was stuck in a bad joke, never to make it to the punchline. She knew for a fact that he probably didn't even knew who she was, and the worst part about it was that she couldn't even blame him. She loved to not be seen, after all.

"Uhm, excuse me?" Said the voice, forcefully hitting her as she looked up, her own eyes meeting the big brown orbs of-

wait.

"I eh, we're supposed to choose partners for this project, and I know for a fact that you can draw so eh, wanna be partners?" He asked, and she simply stared. Was he- talking to her? "I mean, Its okay if you don't want to-" He started, the squirrel hybrid girl behind him already perking up at her chance, making her swallow a bit.

"N-no, I uhm.. I'd like that." She squeezed out, voice quiet, but he thankfully still heard her. He smiled, brightly and so awfully cliche as his bunny-like teeth showed, sitting down next to her as he pulled out his sketches. "So uh, what did you have in mind.?" She quietly asked, and he talked away, as if he'd always known her.

"Well since we weren't given much other than the theme and colors, I made some small sketches. You know, I get Ideas that are pretty neat sometimes but then I forget them easily, so I have to draw or write them down right away, otherwise I'll wanna bite my own ass later on." He rambled on, gently moving the rough sketches towards her, his eyes watching her as she looked at them, carefully studying his lines.

"This- this one would fit, I think.." She mumbled, tapping on one of his more detailed drawings. He grinned again, nodding, seemingly in agreement. He attempted to say something as the bell rang, students around them both scrambling up to get out as soon as possible, either to catch a bus or to drive home on their bikes.

"Hey do you-" He stumbled, his foot catching on a stray chair as he almost fell. "Do you wanna meet up on the weekend? That way we can finish faster, you know, time to sleep in class." He said, and she simply nodded, until he held his hand out. Her head tilted to the side, ears flopping a bit as he chuckled, mumbling. "cute. Your phone, so I can give you my number?" He explained, and she blushed, stepping back a bit as she placed her bag down on the table next to her, pulling out her phone, charms on the device dangling, making him smile. She really was adorable. "Alright." He said as he took it after she'd opened the phone app, his fingers typing away, before he gave it back to her. "Do you take the bus home?" He asked, and she nodded. "Oh really? I thought the pink bike outside was yours actually." He chatted away as she walked next to him, now a bit shy.

"I actually.. well, I can't, you know, ride a bike, so.." She mumbled, and he laughed for a moment, until he went quiet, sensing that she was serious.

"I eh, I could you know, teach you, if you want?" He asked as he unlocked his own bike. "I mean, not now but like, this weekend?" He asked, and she looked a bit hesitant. "I mean, you don't have to. But I promise I won't let you get hurt." It seemed odd maybe, for a prey hybrid to say that to a predator, but for her, it seemed like the most cheesy and romantic thing she'd ever heard. So she smiled, and nodded. "I uhm.. I think your bus left-" He pointed out, making her ears droop as she watched the vehicle drive off without her. "I can bring you home. It's kind of my fault you missed it, after all." He said, scratching the back of his neck as he suddenly rumbled in his backpack, pulling out a zip hoodie, before folding it, and placing it on the bag of his bike. "My'lady." He offered, and she giggled, making his ears flinch in excitement.

She'd been unaware of him for long enough, and after a talk with his fellow friend Taehyung, he'd decided to finally act on his interest in her. Even though he did get some odd looks from his classmate Jimin, he didn't care about what she was- he cared more about who. Her drawings were always so detailed in a way that would show exactly what she'd though while creating each line, something he always found remarkable. She also had a talent for photography, a hobby he had for himself as well.

"Hold on tight okay?" He said, and she nodded, her arms moving around his waist, redness creeping onto her cheeks as she felt his toned body underneath his thin shirt and loose jean jacket. She held a bit tighter as he finally pushed the bike forward, paddling at a decent pace that made her hair flow a bit with the wind. She couldn't help but enjoy the moment; the way his smell calmed her, the scenery around her, and the fact that it seemed like everything was finally working out for her.

"I'm gonna let go now and you'll just-" He started, but she suddenly grew anxious, her wide eyes immediately finding his.

"no no don't let go I'm gonna fall-" She scrambled out, scared as he simply laughed, one hand on her back as he kept the other on the bike for now.

"I promised, didnt I?" He hummed into her ear, and she blushed at the gentle tone of his voice. He was everything she never thought a prey hybrid would be; he was cunning, brave, and confident in himself. He wasn't after attention at all, simply trying to live his life yet he pulled everyones gaze on himself wherever he went simply by nature. His ears seemed too soft to be legal in her opinion, black and white tuft of fur that was his tail seemingly completely out of place; the rest of his body was toned. It showed that he knew how to take care of himself, it underlined the way he held himself wherever he went.

He was the complete opposite of her it seemed.

She liked to hide in oversized clothing, hybrid features the only thing really giving away that she wasn't just a mouse in disguise.

To him however, it was an entirely different story.

She was so sweet, always trying to help, and always trying to not be a burden. She had so much talent, a unique way of seeing the world, and a gentle way of always looking out for others. It also didn't ease his crush on her that she was absolutely beautiful in his eyes; shorter in statue than him, surprisingly, but he was pretty tall for a rabbit hybrid, he had to admit. His mother had once told him about the different subspecies of wolves when she'd noticed his crush on the girl; her best friend having been a wolf hybrid as well when she'd still been in school. Apparently there were different subtypes for them; alphas, betas and omegas. He guessed that the girl on his bike was an omega, maybe, as it would explain all her characteristics.

"You're doing so great!" He said, bunny smile making her feel more confident as she noticed he only held her by her back; she was actually riding a bike. "See? You can do it!" He happily exclaimed as he helped her off, seat a bit high for her to get down herself. "Lets sit down there and exchange some sketches, yeah?" He offered, and she nodded with a smile, walking next to him as they both sat down on the grass, after Jungkook had put down a small blanket he'd taken with him. "Okay, hit me." He playfully shot her way, as she pulled out her sketchbook, simply sliding it towards him as he opened it, looking through the pages she'd opened for him. "Uah, these are great! I'd use a bit more color on these ones, but the rest is awesome!" He mumbled in thought as he proceeded to change the page, his eyes widening at a familiar pair of eyes, when two delicate hands held his wrist in place.

"Pl-Please uh, that's not for the project eh-" She stuttered, panic evident in her voice as her red face and tilted ears gave away her embarrassment. He simply stared for a moment, before his other hand simply loosened her grip on his wrist, freeing himself without much force. He slowly turned the page, revealing multiple rough sketches of..

Him.

It was him, not very detailed, but clearly visible. Small scenarios were drawn on the page, him staring out the open window of the classroom as he talked to friends, him at the sidelines of his basketball game as he'd taken a break, or him asleep on his desk during class. He studied the drawings, noticing how she'd not cared much about his clothing, or the background; even the desk or the window weren't really drawn very realistically, simply a fast sketch. What did stand out was.. well, his face. The way the sun reflected in his eyes, how his ears had been slightly damp from the slight rain outside, or the tiny things he would've never thought she'd notice about him, like the tiny beauty mark under his lower lip, the slight scar just above his cheek, or how the sides of his eyes crinkled when he laughed, nose scrunched up.

As he looked up she was looking down, hair hiding her eyes as her ears were flat against her skull, tail in her hands, which nervously fiddled with the fur. "I-" He started, before he began to open his own bag, ruffling around in it as his own ears lowered themselves while he tried to find something. "Hah!" He exclaimed in victory, hands sliding off the rubber band of his own folder which kept his messily organized sketches and finished works. He rummaged through them, before he started to lay some of them out in front of her, one by one. Slowly, her ears turned, attention on what he'd put down in front of her.

He always had a different way of drawing things, not really putting a lot of effort into the outlines or sketches themselves; but he had a way of coloring things, a unique style that made things feel almost alive. In every picture, he'd dedicated most of his effort to color the fur of her hybrid features almost perfectly- he also payed special attention to her postures in every picture. He never drew her eyes however- which she noticed. "I uhm.. I've never got the chance to see them up close, so I had a bit of trouble with them.." He explained. "I've noticed you pretty early when we shared our first classes together.. But I never really got around to talk to you. You and Namjoon-Hyung always seemed so close, I thought.." He revealed, scratching behind his own ear as he suddenly felt a bit bashful.

"You.. I mean, Joonie is a good friend but we uh.." She started, voice a bit low as she laughed a bit.

"I know, I know, he told me-" Jungkook answered, now chuckling. "Thats why I immediately took my chance when they'd announced the group project." He said. "It gave me a chance to you know, get to know you better. Get closer, you know?" He explained, and she nodded. "So uh.." He mumbled, before he smiled at her hopefully. "Wanna uh- get cake together today? Like a date?" He asked, and she nodded, making him suddenly jump up as he fist bumped the air, making a passerby elderly couple laugh. "Yes!"

"Carrot cake?" She asked, an almost teasing smile on her lips as he looked at her.

"What? Don't judge puppy!" He said, making her scoff scandalized.

"Hey, I'm a wolf, not a dog!" She explained as she stirred her milkshake with her pink straw before grabbing the spoon from her small metal plate.

"And I'm a rabbit, not a bunny. So guess we're even." He said, before his smile faded a bit, eyes stuck to the spoonful of whipped cream which made its way inside her mouth, tongue darting out to lick her lips clean before she noticed his gaze. He snapped out of it, suddenly the one growing a bit shy. "You uh.. wait, lemme just-" He mumbled, hand moving to wipe the corner of her mouth as he licked his finger clean himself, making her eyes widen before she mumbled a 'thanks' under her breath. He grinned.

"So uh-" He asked, pushing down his small cake fork to pick up a piece of cake, holding it out towards her. "open up?" He asked, and she hesitated a bit, before leaning forward a bit, lips parting. He placed the piece into her mouth, watching as she closed her lips, accepting his offering of food before she nodded her head approvingly. "See? Don't judge before you try!" He exclaimed, and she giggled at that.

He was right.

"I'm absolutely beat." He suddenly exclaimed, falling down onto the mattress laying on the ground in the corner of the new, unfurnished bedroom. The wolf hybrid sat down next to his sprawled out form, gently moving his blonde tipped hair away from his eyes. He'd dyed it months ago, his roots more than visible at this point, yet he'd simply decided to let it grow. "Come here~!" He playfully demanded, hands reaching out for her as he pulled her down with him, happily humming when she was laying on his chest. "Can you believe we're actually gonna live together from now on?" He asked, and she shook her head, moving around a bit so she straddled him, sat on his thighs as he suddenly watches her with hooded eyes, hands on her hips as his thumbs move in circles over the skin underneath her sweater- his sweater. "Hm.. I mean.." He offered, suddenly moving to sit up, changing position as she's now underneath him, his hair tickling her face slightly when he begins to kiss against her pulse. "I was about to ask if we should at least put up the bedframe, but having a mattress on the floor.." He started, hands wandering underneath the clothing of his she wore as he continued in a low voice. "..means I can't break the bed this time." He said, and she giggled at that, remembering the time their time together had been roughly interrupted by the weak frame of his old bed breaking. "Oh, my puppy thinks that's funny?" He wonders, making her grin as he kissed her deeply.

Moments like these made her almost forget the stereotypes she'd grown up with during her live- since Jungkook was nothing like the typically depicted rabbit hybrids. Because right now the roles seemed completely reversed, as he mouthed at her neck, feeling her pulse race as he continued to map out her body with just his hands, no need to watch where they were, able to seemingly paint a picture of her by touch at this point. Clothes suddenly seemed to tight, itchy, as if bitten by a mosquito. She whined as he chuckled darkly, helping her out of his sweater as he immediately grabbed her breasts, kneading them before he continued to undress her, making quick work of her shorts as he pulled down her underwear as well- her already glistening center clinging to the damp fabric of her underwear as she squirmed, making him humm in appreciation. He pulled his own shirt over his head as well, revealing his body to her as the sun outside painted glowing stripes onto it, the blinds drawing patterns on her skin as well. He finally freed himself from the confines of his own underwear as well, standing proud and ready as she became restless.

"Hm, puppy wants to be filled up yeah?" He asked with a teasing undertone, proudly making use of the privilege to be able to call her that- since she hated it when others did it. It was the same the other way around however; typically, being called a 'bunny' was an absolute insult to him, but for some reason it seemed like a cute nickname coming from her. Maybe he was just whipped. Or maybe she was just privileged as well.

He entered her slowly as he sighed alongside her, not wasting any time as he fell into rhythm, hips thrusting forwards as her hands reached for his, intertwining their fingers as he felt his soul warm up at the gesture. He felt so loved, so cherished, it made him fear for his heart, as he swore it stopped every time he was close to her like this. He felt complete, like he'd found his soulmate, his other half- it didn't matter to him what she was. Sure, his parents were a bit dissapointed since they couldn't have kids naturally because of this, but they both could always adopt in the future. Thinking about it made his heart swell as he thought about her, caring for their kids, making this small apartment into a family home one day. Maybe it was instinct, but he'd already been driven nuts by the way she'd helped him choose furniture and wallpaper for the small living space they'd be sharing; the simple fact that she wanted to make their apartment into a home feeding his inner instincts to build a home to keep her safe in.

He felt her legs shake a bit as he shifted a bit, making her whine as he suddenly picked up his pace, sweat already slowly beginning to coat his skin as he didn't seem to notice how the sound of skin against skin still echoed in the almost empty room since it lacked furniture- but it didn't matter for now anyways. They'd both fill it with things and memories of the both of them, and he couldn't wait for it. He huffed a bit as he moved, leaning down a bit to rest his forehead against her neck as she bared it for him, a natural instinct of hers to submit to him even if he was of another species with no need of such gestures. He'd adapted to it however, gently biting the skin as he felt her shiver underneath him, a sign that she was getting close. "Hm my baby wanna cum?" He asked, gently beginning to tease her as she nodded, eyes closed in bliss. "You want a knot huh?" He asked, and she shook her head no, as he chuckled. He'd felt a bit insecure the first few times around as he knew how things worked for canine hybrids, worried that he maybe couldn't give her what she wanted or needed, yet she'd always reassured him. Now it was more like a teasing thing for him, and a way to tickle a praise out of her- a way of reminding himself that she loved him just as much as she did her. "No? You don't?" She shook her head again, her fingers holding his hands tighter. "What do you want then, huh?" He asked with a grin as she whined.

"You- you, only want ngh.. only need Kookie-!" She pressed out, and he hummed approvingly, his thrusts beginning to grow sloppy as he neared his end.

"That's right, only me, only mine, yeah?" He asked, and she nodded, suddenly opening mouth as her head buried itself into the mattress below her, clenching around him as he groaned out, burying himself deep inside her as he spilled. "Thats it, take it like a puppy- good girl!" He praised, making her whine as he leaned his body down, kissing her neck, her throat, and then her lips as they both calmed down from their highs, breathing slowly growing more and more even as he moved a bit to grab a box as he slid it towards him, rummaging through it before he took out a roll of kitchen towels, grabbing a few as he slipped out of her, carefully catching his release and her own juices as to not make a mess. He had a gentle smile on his face as he carefully cleaned her up before he stood, walking towards another box where he pulled out a large pillow and a few blankets, instincts taking over as he began to cover her now rapidly cooling body in soft fabrics before cuddling up next to her, pulling another blanket over his own form as he made sure his partner was comfortable. She slipped out of her makeshift blanket burrito to invite him in, making him grin his signature bunny smile as he held her close, skin on skin as he closed his eyes, the only light in the room the streetlamps outside.

This already felt like home.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts #jungkook #bts reactions #hybrid imagine #bts hybrid au

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minor-solemnity · 3 years

Text

Curiosity pt. 4

After that night, you can’t seem to escape Riddle anywhere.

You suppose you shouldn’t be shocked by that. But now that he’s noticed you, now that he’s decided that you’re something to be interested in, it’s as though he takes up all your attention. By far the worst thing, however, is the fact that Marie and Stephanie have decided that he is the best person in the world. In your more charitable moments, you can understand why. From Marie’s perspective, Riddle has protected her future by keeping her trespassing to himself and from Stephanie’s perspective, his silence is a tacit agreement that she should be allowed to continue playing on the house team. Apparently, you are somehow unreasonable for failing to join them in their support of all things Tom Riddle.

“Can we please just drop it?” You grouch as you slump forward in your seat, waiting for Dumbledore to arrive to start the lesson. “I’ve told you both, I don’t want to talk about it.” Stephanie prods you with her wand and opens her mouth to say something but you quickly cut her off, “I’m not being ridiculous. Stop telling me that I’m being ridiculous.” This is the other point of contention between you and your two best friends: you haven’t told them why Riddle held you behind that night. They’ve decided that you’re having a clandestine relationship which would be a laughable notion if it weren’t for the way that your pulse quickened whenever they brought it up.

“Fine. You’re not being ridiculous. He’s looking at you again, though” Stephanie murmurs and smirks at the low groan you emit as your head hits the desk in front of you. You know you should tell them what happened, but you’re not sure how to without making it seem as though you’re being unfairly suspicious. (Which is maybe an indication that you are, but that’s neither here nor there.) It’s just that… You know Riddle is persistent - he’s told you multiple times - and you know that you have an awful habit of refusing to let an issue drop. They’ll accuse you of being hypercritical but something about the way Riddle acts around you sets you on edge. You don’t know what it is about him, just that there’s something strange about the way he treats you compared to everyone else.

Thankfully, your interrogation is effectively cut short as Dumbledore enters the room at that moment, sweeping past you in a whirl of canary yellow robes. “If you’d all like to pair up, we’ll be practising our colour-morphing today, class. And remember: non-verbal if you can.” With a flick of his wand, a dozen brightly coloured songbirds in gilded cages appear on the desks in front of you. Transfiguring live animals is always more difficult, and transfiguring something as specific as the colour even more so. You find yourself grinning at the challenge.

Before the three of you can fall into your usual squabble about who has to be the one to find a different person to partner up with, a shadow falls across your desk and you don’t have to look up to know exactly who it is. “Would you care to partner up?” Riddle asks and next to you Stephanie all but cackles. Obviously, he hears her - she’s making no effort to cover up her amusement - but his expression doesn’t change at all as he smiles politely down at you. After a second, he raises an eyebrow expectantly and you realise with a sinking feeling that there is really no way you’ll be able to get out of this. Marie and Stephanie have already grabbed their songbird and are watching you with joint expressions of amusement.

“… Sure.” You say at last and slowly you grab your bag and follow him to where he’s stationed himself at the side of the classroom. You frown slightly. Riddle usually sits close to the front in all his lessons, but now you think of it, in Dumbledore’s classes, he seems to try and make himself as invisible as he possibly can. You settle in the chair opposite him and watch as he places the songbirds cage carefully down in the middle of the desk. The silence seems to stretch for an uncomfortably long time between you but he doesn’t seem affected by it at all. He just watches you with a mix of amusement and expectation dancing in his eyes. Ridiculously, you find yourself wanting to impress him. “So,” You say when the quiet becomes too much, “Do you want to go first, or shall I?”

A small smirk spreads across his lips and he draws his wand out from his robes. Your eyes track his movements with more interest than you care to admit. His wrist twists in an expert motion and your little blue songbird shimmers for a moment before the blue of its feather seems to melt into deep emerald green. You absolutely do not think about what else he might be able to do with such clever hands. You’re absolutely not impressed that he succeeded in the colour-morphing transfiguration on his first attempt. Non-verbally. He did it non-verbally. He looks back at you and to your frustration, he still doesn’t speak, just keeps that pleasant smile plastered on his face like there is nothing odd about the situation you find yourself in at all.

“Right. Well done, then, I suppose.” You mutter and retrieve your own wand. You pretend you don’t notice the way his gaze becomes a little more focussed. Why does this feel like a test? Why does this feel like a test you want to pass? You shut your eyes for a second, allowing your mind to go blank and still. Slowly you think of the incantation, rolling the syllables over in your mind until they reverberate around your skull. You open your eyes, swish your wand in a precise flick and watch as the bird shifts colour from green to purple. It’s not as neat as Riddle’s own casting you note with no small amount of displeasure; the change takes longer and the tips of the bird’s feathers are a lighter shade of purple than the rest of it.

However, for a first attempt, you are fairly impressed with yourself. It seems Riddle is as well, because his pleasant smile has disappeared and he’s watching you closely now, dark eyes flicking between you and the bird. He hums in something like approval and you tamp down your desire to preen. “That was… impressive. Your first attempt at the spell?” You nod, not quite meeting his gaze. “So you’re talented at Transfiguration.” He says slowly, as though he’s piecing something together. Again, you nod. “Talented enough, to say, transfigure something into a quill, perhaps?”

Fuck.

His smile returns, sharp and pleased. He opens his mouth to say something but is cut off when Dumbledore appears at your desk, smiling congenially. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you two working together in this class before,” He clasps his hands and looks down at you as though he can see right through you. Despite his placid tone, you think you catch an undercurrent of something else lurking just beneath the surface of his statement. “Have you managed the spell? We wouldn’t want to be wasting valuable lesson time chatting, would we?” You think distantly that you should be grateful for Dumbledore’s interruption except… Well, he’s never told you off for chatting in class before. And he’s never looked at you the way he’s looking at Riddle.

And you’ve never seen Riddle look as uncomfortable as he does right now. His smile has slipped from his face as quickly as it came. He stares straight past you and when he speaks, his voice is a quiet, reserved monotone. “You are the biggest proponent of inter-house cooperation, Sir.” Dumbledore doesn’t stop smiling but he does raise an eyebrow as though he doesn’t believe a word of what Riddle has just said. You find yourself wanting to come to his defence.

“We’ve both managed it, Sir. First time round.” You try not to shift under the scrutiny of your professor. “Riddle - sorry, Tom’s was near perfect.” Which is annoying to admit but also true. Riddle (Tom?) glances at you and you’re not stupid enough to mistake the look in his eye for gratitude but at least it’s better than that shuttered, flat stare. Dumbledore says nothing in response and the rest of the lesson passes unremarkably though you can’t shake the confusion over what just transpired between you, Riddle, and Dumbledore. Soon, everyone around you is packing their things and heading out the door to lunch. You’re still trying to figure out what it is about Dumbledore that makes Riddle so uneasy that it takes you a moment to realise that the classroom has emptied out entirely. You hastily grab your own things and shove them into your bag.

You’re almost at the door when Riddle’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “We still haven’t discussed what we found out today,” He calls and because your back is turned to him, you don’t bother to hide your grimace. You had really hoped you’d be able to avoid this conversation.

“Why don’t you sit at the front in Dumbledore’s classes?” You ask suddenly, desperate for a distraction.

Riddle’s eyes flash with something that you’re beginning to recognise as tamped down anger before his expression shutters. He runs a hand through his hair and your eyes don’t track the way his waves fall in slight disarray. “Dumbledore and I have a… difficult relationship. I haven’t a clue why,” He’s lying. You know he’s lying. “It’s just always been that way.” The finality in his voice signals the end of the conversation, but you don’t want to let it drop. Not now you know he’s lying and certainly not now he knows that you did find something in Larkins’ office.

“Really? It certainly didn’t seem that way to me.” You counter, sounding a lot more confident than you feel. “It seemed to me like he has a very good reason not to like you. I wonder what it could be? Maybe you should be careful poking around other people’s secrets when you clearly have a few of your own.”

His features contort with anger and he’s suddenly too close. You hadn’t even seen him move. You take a step back and unlike the time in the library, he doesn’t stop you, merely continues to press into your personal space until your back hits the door behind you. Riddle’s arm flies up to rest next to your head, his long fingers are so close that for a moment you think he might tangle them in your hair. Your stomach drops with something that is definitely not anticipation at the thought. From this angle, the shadows of his cheekbones that much more pronounced, the waves of his hair fall messily across his forehead and he stares down at you with impossibly dark eyes, breathing hard. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this close to coming undone and your treacherous body reacts to that realisation in kind. Your breath hitches in your throat and you feel yourself start to flush. You’re not sure how long you stay there, the two of you glaring at each other whilst your pulse races. Eventually, though, his breathing calms down and his arm drops to his side. He leans back and seems to collect himself.

“I’d like it if you refrain from asking me questions about Dumbledore in the future.”

“And I’d like it if you refrain from asking me questions about my own personal business, but here we are,” You retort. He blinks, evidently surprised by your reaction and then something breaks in his expression and he laughs once sharply.

“You are the most frustrating person I think I’ve ever met. Why won’t you just tell me? You know I’ll figure it out. Or I’ll make you tell me.” He’s just insulted and threatened you in the same breath and you think you should probably be irritated by that, but there’s something odd about the way he’s speaking to you. He doesn’t… sound angry? Or like he’s trying to scare you into compliance. No… he sounds… You shake your head. It doesn’t matter what he sounds like. You’re being ridiculous.

“Why do you care so much?” You ask, gesturing wildly. “I know you care as little as I do about quidditch, I know that you’re not going to do anything with the information, so why do you care so much?” And somehow you do know that. This is a game to Riddle. It’s a puzzle he hasn’t been able to solve, and, like you, he’s not very good at letting things go.

The next word he speaks confirms your suspicions. “Curiosity.”

You blink up at him and you know he’s telling the truth. (Since when have you been able to pick up on these things about him?) He doesn’t stop you when you turn and walk hurriedly out of the classroom. You don’t look back. It’s only when you reach the ground floor that you realise you know exactly what he had sounded like. He’d sounded like he’d been having fun.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #minific #tom riddle story #tom riddle fic #harry potter fanfic

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give-grian-rights · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER TWO HOUR. CHAPTER TWO HOUR. I AM SO TIRED. IT IS 6AM. TELL ME IF HTERE’S TYPOS AND THAT NORMAL STUFF

Bets Against The Void, Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Whitelist au from @petrichormeraki

Crossposted on AO3

Tubbo quietly chuckled, smiling fondly as their friend squawked indignantly. “Tubbo! I’m serious, explain some shit, fuckin’ nerd!” Tommy scoffed, prodding at their side with his elbow. Tubbo hushed him, their smirk still lingering.

“Hermitcraft is a super crazy popular server. If you’ve ever searched for examples of builds on your tablet, chances are, they’re from one of the Hermits. Or if you looked up something about redstone! Anything! You’ll find one of their instructions. They’re geniuses- just, complete geniuses. Grian’s one of them-”

“Grian’s one of them!?” Tommy exclaimed, his eyes shooting open. Tubbo’s grin widened, nodding vigorously. “Yes! He’s the newest Hermit, last I heard.. Most of the guys he’s teammates with every MCC, they’re usually other Hermits!” They’d continue explaining to the best of their ability.

“Should’ve fuckin’ started with the fact that Grian’s here! That fuckin’ dude! He killed Dream three times! Three times, Tubbo!” The blond continued with his excited shouting. Well, that certainly fixed the situation, Tubbo mused.

The brunett nodded along, chuckling. “Yeah! He, and most of the others, really- post all that much right now. The new World Client, with the axolotls and caves ‘n stuff? They’ve started posting and sharing discoveries about that. I know Grian did, at least. But considering they call themselves the ‘Hermits’ it makes sense to be a bit inactive, yeah?” Tubbo shrugged, tapping the chilly cool sandstone beneath them.

Tommy nodded dumbly, glancing around the room for a moment. Tubbo, meanwhile, had pulled their tablet up. The holographic comm system was displayed infront of them, everything on the screen they touched being read aloud to them.

Launching an accessibility app, the tablet began describing aloud the block palette, dimensions, and colors. As the tablet’s robotic voice played in his com system, reading aloud the details of his surrounding, Tubbo nodded along to an incoherent rant from Tommy.

Tubbo wasn’t too sure what Tommy was ranting about- likely MCC, and Grian. Grian got a kill on Tommy, last MCC, if they remember correctly. The brunnett wouldn’t be surprised if that was the target of the blond’s current tangent. Tommy hadn’t even been able to get a word out, when Grian began shouting vigorous apologises between matches.

The descriptions from the tablet were long, and boring. The robotic voice drawing on and on, as it attempted to describe the intricate room. Shutting down the program, Tubbo tuned back into Tommy.

“Fuckin’ am..So fucking tired. Of course we ended up here. It’d be to easy if we’d just be let back into Dream SMP, huh? Think Dream even knew we were out? I bet not. Even if he does, probably didn’t even care, fuckin’ dick. Bet that green asshole’s just sitting over his code and shit, simping over Gogy-” The blond ranted heatedly. The blind teen could hear the shifting and chustling of fabric, before the boy’s voice became muffled.

With his head pressed against his knees, legs drawn to his chest, Tommy sat there practically panting. His chest heaved, the rage draining from him. “Why is all- all of this, always so complicated, Tubbo?” Blue eyes turned to meet the scarred, burnt front of the other.

Tubbo picked at faded and torn tennis shoes, tentatively listening. The rymnatic pattern of the boy’s breathing, and the crashing overhead, offered some vague comfort. “All of what?” They’d tilt their head.

The younger of the two quietly sighed, his mouth pressed in a thin line. His hand clutched the bottom of his torn, tan cargo pants, fidgetting with the frayed ends. “Us. Shit with us, it always gets so fuckin’ complicated. Big Man, you’re president. You’re- you’re the fucking president, now, Tubbo.”

The bunnett’s brows furrowed together, as they inched closer to their friend. “Yeah. But it’s- it’s still us, y’know? If- if life was easy, then we’d be missing out on a lot of things. What if we had just never met-”

“We’d always meet eachother, Tubbo. There’s no fuckin’ getting rid of me, even in your fantasy world.” The blond nudged the teen’s shoulder, a wolfish grin evident in his tone.

That made the other crack a smile, shaking their head. “I hope so, Tommy.” They’d chuckle, shaking their head. The weight of the day came crashing down all again. Before the rushing thoughts could boggle down their mind, Tubbo slumped against Tommy’s side sigh an exhausted sigh.

“This is just, livin’ the fucking life, huh?” Tommy remarked, looking over his friend. The tall boy already shifted himself, his long legs sprawled out on the floor with his back leaned against sandstone walls.

His head leaned against that of his compaignian, half-lidded blue eyes giving one last surveillance of the room. “We’ll figure this shit out tomorrow..” Tommy mumbled, glancing down at the brunette.

Tubbo was already asleep, their expression finally one of peace. Tommy wasn’t given a moment more to appreciate the serenity of the quiet room, before he’d be pulled into slumber as well.

Both of the teens were stirred awake by the whirring noises of an active portal- the Netherportal beside them, with particles flying, gaveway to two players. Tommy kicked himself up to his feet, defensively. Tubbo stumbled along with him, pulling back away from the strangers.

Though two stepped out, only one immediately caught Tommy’s eyes.

“W- Holy shit! You’re Grian!” Tommy squawked indignantly.

Tubbo’s head immediately shot up, excitably breaking into a grin. Any exhaustion the two held was wiped away- neither was sure how long their unrestful sleep had been, but it was far more than other nights.

The target of the excitement, Grian, sheepishly stood there, nodding. “Uh, yeah! You guys are Tommy and Tubbo, yeah? I’ve seen you at most of the MCC’s I’ve been to. You both did really good last time, by the way! I’m really looking forward to the next one!”

This was easily the closest they probably ever were to the dirty blond. He also looked far more at ease, on this server. The iconic figure, ever-present in the community, had his wild mop of a fringe frazzled and framing his face.

Poking under the bangs, Tommy could now see faint, ragged lines from a scar, along with other various healed-over wounds. Another contrary to how either of them had seen Grian, at MCC, was the large circular glasses loosely sat on his face.

Seeing one of his heroes like this (The only one that hadn’t betrayed, killed him, turned against him, despised him-) in such a..Domestic state, was bizarre. Tommy was scrambling for words, starting and giving up on getting his tongue around what to say.

“This is so cool! Hi! I used to watch and- and listen, to a lot of your old build tutorials! A lot of people on our server would always say how we learned building from you!” Tubbo would blurt out, practically bouncing on their heel. Grian turned to the teen, slightly shocked but amused.

“Oh! I- well thank you! I’m glad I could be any help at all- my builds are nothing compared to some of what the other Hermits have going on..Speaking of others- this is Stress!” He’d take the opportunity to escape the small spotlight, glancing towards the brunette woman next to him sheepishly.

The woman- Stress, apparently, quietly chuckled. A fond smile grazed her face, as she looked over towards the two teenagers. “Ello there, Loves! Sorry to interrupt your fan meetup,” She teased, side-eyeing the dirty blond beside her. “We just wanted to come and check in, is all! X told us two to come visit, yeah?”

Tommy quietly hummed skeptically, surveying her. Short brown hair hung barely as low as her shoulder, a neat, white, blue, and pink flower-crown sat upon her head. The colors must’ve been very purposeful, considering they matched with her colorful outfit of the same color.

“Fine, sure..Well, we’re still fuckin’ breathing, and we’re here. So you don’t really need to be here any longer, yeah?” Tommy scoffed, slumping back against the wall. Tubbo was already standing, nudging at his side.

“Thank you, for checking in. I- I’m sure this is a bit of a strange situation. That- Yeah, that’s my bad.” They chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck. This caught Stress’ attention, turning towards the tene.

“Oh, no! This isn’t a problem at all. Dear, this happens all the time. Grian just- just appeared, one day, in our previous server. We walk out the portal for the first time- and boom! There that weirdo is!” Stress chuckled, her grin unwavering as she gave a playful nudge to the dirty blond beside her.

Grian scoffed, a smirk edging at his lips as he rolled his eyes. “Okay, but I’m not the only example of that happening- you didn’t have to pick me out specifically!”

“Sure I do, Love! You’re the first new Hermit to join, after me and Zed! I get to bully you, lovingly!” She cheered. Stress’ energy was absolutely efficacious, Tubbo couldn’t help but smile and cackle at her and Grian’s banter.

“Uh huh,” Grian scoffed, dramatically crossing his arms. “Last I checked, that was Iskall’s job to bully newcomers- oh, Gord, when you all walked out of the portal and they just decked me ? I mean, it didn’t really hurt all that bad, but it’s a matter of the principle!”

Stress seemed like she was almost gonna break down with laughter, clutching her stomach. “I forgot they did that with you, too! Iskall certainly is one that needs work with their introduction, that absolute weirdo!” She chostled, shaking her head fondly.

She then turned towards the two teens, reassuringly smiling. “They won’t give you any hard time, they’re just like that sometimes, especially in the beginning of a new season..They’re usually just incomprehensible in the beginning, I learnt!” She giggled, covering her mouth.

Tubbo awkwardly laughed, nodding. “Yeah- they, they sound like something.” It was..A strange environment, to be sure.

Sure, they knew of the Hermits, their reputation impossible to avoid- but most outsiders didn’t know much about the actual Hermits. They went by that title for a reason.

Tommy was having similar thoughts, he felt as if he was completely imposing on, everything. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care- it frankly was..Warming, almost, to see this. He missed being able to have that, on Dream’s server.

The blond in particular seemed to have tuned out, because by the time he snapped out of those thoughts, Grian was speaking again.

“We’re glad to see you’re both alright, but, I don’t think we’ve been exactly great hosts. You both have gotta be hungry- I know the last thing you two seem to want is help, but..We’d be happy to help you however we can. We can go get you fresh, real food. Or- you both come with us, and we take you to our central area, the Cowmercial district.”

Tommy stared blankly at Grian for a moment, brows knitted together in bewilderment. “The… Cow..merical district?” He’d repeat, squinting.

Grian snickered, nodding. “Yeah! The name just stuck. It’s our shopping district. We have a bakery- it’s never, ever too early for cake. There’s Doc’s shop, but that’s all villager-bought, if it’s the rare occasion that it’s stocked at all- so the Bakery may be the only option, for today.” He glanced back at Stress, who nodded in agreement.

“Only if you’d want to,” Stress would interject. “Either of us could come bring you food here- but, we figured you might want to just..Get out. You’re allowed to leave here whenever you want- but, navigating our server by yourself, for the first time? Not the easiest.”

The two teens glanced towards eachother. Tubbo looked like they were practically buzzing in place, at the idea of exploring the Hermits’ world. Tommy watched them for a moment, before quietly scoffing.

“..Yeah, okay, sure- how the hell do we even get out of here though, for starters?” Tommy crossed his arms, inching closer towards Tubbo. He, for one, was really not a fan of having to fly out.

Stress cheered excitably, pulling open her inventory. The woman promptly dropped a stack each to the two teens. “I came prepared, just in-case!” She grinned. With a swipe of her arm, the digital screen dissipated.

“If you know how to use elytras, X already said he’s more than happy to lend out two from the back-up system. I have some to spare, as well. But- you two never seemed the most comfortable in the air, during flight-based games.” Grian would add awkwardly, adjusting his own wings behind him.

Tommy didn’t pay much attention to the words- instead, he promptly threw open his inventory, gawking at the full stack of pearls. “What! I don’t think i’ve ever had this many pearls! Holy shit!” He pulled out the stack of sixteen.

One pearl manifested in his hand, while a holographic icon hovered beside him. The pixel-image of an enderpearl, with a large 15x in the corner in white font was projected for only his vision. The blond couldn’t remember a time he had so many enderpearls.

“Thank you! Wow- yeah, pearls aren’t really common in our server! This- this is really nice!” They felt giddy, as they pulled their’s out as well, the action muscle-memory.

“Well, I’m glad you two can put them to good-use, then!” She chuckled. The idle question of how can a server lack pearls skimming through her head for a moment.

Within seconds of her saying that, Tommy had already blindly tossed one of his pearls- promptly falling down from the ceiling, and landing on the floor with a short shriek. Tubbo straightened up from the sidelines, tilting their head.

“Tommy! What did you do?” Tubbo called out accusatorily, as they quickly popped their surrounding descriptor back on.

“Nothing!” Tommy quickly yelled back, lunging to their feet with a stumble as they dusted themselves off.

At the sidelines, Stress and Grian cackled, watching in lighthearted amusement. Tommy could feel his face flushed red with brief embarrassment, quickly attempting to play it off.

“Truer answer; I was being awesome. That was what, Tubbo. Are we eating or what? I want to throw pearls and go places. And eat, that too.” He quickly turned towards the two Hermits expectantly, narrowing his eyes at them.

Grian grinned, nodding. “Yes, yes we are! I have boats. Go ahead and pop up with your pearls, and we’ll fly out to you.” He explained briefly, pulling the boats from his inventory. The thin, digitized object manifesting in his hand.

Tommy turned expectantly to Tubbo. “You got this, Toob?” He tilted his head, watching his friend. Tubbo had immediately nodded vigoriously, running over towards the center of the room, the ceiling above open to the water.

“Yeah! I’ve got this, Big Man! No sweat!” They gave a toothy grin, shifting the enderpearl in their hand. Arching their arm back, the teen cautiously stepped back.

Their communicator had continued reading off the details of the room into their thin earpiece, primarily the dimensions. All they had to do was hit the wall leading up to the surface to get out. They could do that, surely.

With a huff of effort, they chucked the pearl. They heard it break through the under-surface of the water, and then they were submerged. Breaching the surface, they gasped for a moment. The ocean rippled, clothes heavy and soaked. They were certainly glad they had been in their casual clothes, rather than their presidential outfit.

Within a moment, Tommy was up beside them, quietly gasping as well. The blond pushed his hair back, lightly nudging Tubbo away from the gaping hole in the water beneath them- and then Grian and Stress flew out.

The sound from the rockets were deafened from beneath the ocean, thankfully. Only a thin trail of smoke followed them, the sight certainly unfamiliar to the fireworks the two teens had been accustomed to.

Both Hermits had dived straight into the shallow water with a splash, before the dirty-blond dropped down two boats.

“I want to drive! Tommy, i’m driving us!” Tubbo cried out, at the sound of the wood hitting the water. Beside them, Tommy scoffed.

“Tubbo! I’m not gettin’ motion sickness! We just woke up, no way. Your idea of ‘driving’ is no one elses, my friend.” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he pulled himself into the boat. Beside him, Tubbo whined.

“C’mon, man! Nothing like a bit of motion-sickness to get the day started!” They playfully remarked. Despite that, they had already accepted their defeat, pulling up into the boat.

Stress and Grian watched the teens carefully, with Stress laughing lightheartedly at the banter between them as she pulled herself into the boat, behind Grian.

Grian, on the otherhand, was mostly quiet. A thin wisp of a smile was present, conveying one of bemusement. Tommy didn’t get a good look, but, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the look from Grian. He didn’t like it.

“Alright,” The older Brit at hand started. “We’re real close. No one should be at Looky Looky At My Cookie- and it should be early enough that there aren’t any real occupants at the Cowmerical District.” He explained, turning the boat as he got a small start ahead of the teens.

“Sure, then! That sounds g- wait, what’s that name?”

“C’mon, then!” Grian wouldn't answer Tubbo’s valid question, before boating off. Tommy quickly following behind, shouting indignantly after them.

It certainly was odd. It felt..Comforting, here. Certainly not relaxing. The opposite of cf relaxing- Tubbo had nothing but the craving to do something. But it was..Welcoming. It was strange. They hadn’t felt so- so unbothered, since..Ever, really. They liked it.

Tubbo wondered if it could stay this way.

Tommy wondered what the hell they were about to get themselves into.

#bets against the void fic #whitelist au #mika-posts #mcyt fic #mcyt au #dream smp au #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft fic #dream smp fic

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tratserenoyreve · 3 years

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I'd love to hear your thoughts about Little Nightmares 2. I'd also love for you to have a nice day :)

there’s like. a lot of layers. first off, the devs don’t want people to treat the events in game as being a dream, in universe this stuff is very much tangible and real and not simply a dream state, so that alone makes me sit here goin thru progressive galaxy brain stages attempting to comprehend that.

given the type of storytelling it is, visually driven with just some sound cues, it takes some replays to fully catch on to just how many little things are going on around you. they really upped the amount of just. stuff in this game compared to the first.

with that, one thing that got me good was how very early on it’s six who invites mono to help them resolve a puzzle/issue. initially, mono has scared six terribly breaking their room’s door like a re-enactment of the shining, but when six is then stuck unable to get into the attic to get a key she knows is there, six calls to and gestures for mono to help. it isn’t the player who initiates this, it’s six.

there are other moments like this too, while mono has times where he is gesturing for and calling to six for help with something, it seems just as often six is doing the same thing. jumping on an object to show mono it can fall, calling to him from another room to let him know she’s ready for him to activate a lift, there are even points where six will see mono is stuck and actively go to help him (in the school, there is a moment where mono is trying to get a key from one of the bullies. six sees this thru the grate and goes to make a distraction on her own by hopping onto and running across the piano in the other room) and i think that builds up the impression of how six and mono are mutually keeping an eye out for eachother. it’s not just for progressions sake either, six is fully capable of outrunning mono and at many points she instead stops and prepares to catch him.

the game also presents a ton of imagery that isn’t just body horror and physical harm, but also implications of mental/emotional harm, neglect and otherwise, that is being inflicted on these kids. when you first find six, she’s stuck in a small room that looks like she’s attempted to get out from at one point (the door is already damaged, the wall has scores of days), there are drawings on the ground that refer to the first game, likely made by her. the entire school experience, the city near the end where you see lines of bottles and the only living people are glued to screens, who react with unbridled rage if mono interrupts them. mono spends nearly the whole game hiding/obscuring his face.

it’s like. very much multiple tragedies. oh, and i’m in the boat that the game is very much a sequel, and not a prequel, as there are too many things that suggest six has already been to/through the maw by the end. i also think that the name of the series, little monsters, is apt and pretty sad, when you have children growing up in such a cruel world, they have to become a bit monstrous themselves. i don’t think there is a time loop going on so much as instead a cycle of abusive behavior. without getting into the ending too much, note how six is initially just. scared and trying to self-soothe, and mono’s calling to her is initially the familiar soft whispering “hey”, but as you continue to do what the game demands, mono’s calls become abrasive and painful echoes and six becomes more frantic.

all in all, very neat moody game, would like to give these kids marshmallows and warm clothes.

#tratser replies to stuff #tratser talks about stuff #little nightmares #little nightmares 2

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whentheynameyoujoy · 3 years

Text

So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

youtube

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

#atla #atla movie #zutara #anti bryke #dev patel #the last airbender #anti-kataang

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munamania · 3 years

Text

happy hawkins holiday hiatus to @mikewheelerthepaladin !! here’s a lighthearted fic + a playlist of songs i listened to a lot while writing, i hope you enjoy 🥳

& a big thank you to @sevensided for putting this together, it’s been super fun <3

It’s the first time he’s been in over a year, really, but he’d entertained the thought of asking Will over the summer, for one last challenge before he left. It never happened, everything went by too fast; and, honestly, Mike didn’t know how to talk to him with the goddamn weight of everything - hi, we’ve barely spoken in the last year and we just almost died, again, and now you’re moving away forever - wanna hang out?

It’d never been that hard.

And it sucked. The whole thing. Now that Will is gone, it gnaws at him daily that they could have had more time together. Or a proper goodbye, at least. Instead, he spent a lot of time last summer sitting around, figuring out how to approach El and his feelings toward her, and most of all, alone.

But now the Byers are coming home for Christmas. And staying with The Wheelers, on top of it all.

So, seeking some sort of cryptic universal answer to his life problems, Mike returns to the place of a lot of younger memories, of crowding around machines with Lucas and Dustin and Will, a conglomeration of shouting and booing and cheering when one of them topped a high score, of frantically patting down their pockets for a few extra coins.

All of these wistful memories come to halt, however, when he finds a familiar redhead occupying one of their favorite games.

Max glances at him through the screen. “What do you want?”

“Uh, to play?” Honestly, he doesn’t care; he’s not sure he could focus enough to win much anyway. “Kicking your ass would be a plus.”

“Yeah, as if.” Her gaze fixes back on the colorful pixels dancing in front of her face.

Okay, well, she’s not moving anytime soon. He could probably just walk away, but a part of him wants company, even if it’s from someone hellbent on disagreeing with him.

Even when the Party hangs out now, Mike finds himself bickering with Max over what movies to see, where to eat, nearly anything, even when he doesn’t really give a shit. It’s the principle of the thing, and she gets under his skin.

Maybe it’s a good thing.

Mike sighs, leans against one of the neighboring games, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t really know why I’m here.”

“Well, if you’re looking for me to throw pity money at you, it’s not happening.” After a beat, and losing the level, she kicks at the machine and turns to him. “Now look what you made me do. All your moping and talking - I could’ve beaten that if you would just leave me alone.”

He offers a quarter.

“Forget it.”

“I’ll buy you a pop, then.” She glares at him. “Seriously, okay, this is the first and only olive branch. Take it or leave it.”

After a moment of scowling at him, her arms folded, she slowly concedes, a smug look taking over. “Okay. I’ll take it, Wheeler.”

“So, you’re stalking me at the arcade because… of nothing?”

Mike presses his lips into a line. “I’m not stalking you,” he says, “and it’s not - it’s not nothing. I was gonna ask Lucas or Dustin to come, but… I felt like I needed to be here alone.”

Max sips on her drink. “That didn’t work out.”

“Guess not.”

“So you did need to talk to someone.”

“Guess so.”

God, this is borderline painful. Sitting in a shoddy little booth across from Max, whom he never once intended to have a heart-to-heart with, is a new level of desperation. But here they are.

With the most grandiose sigh he’s ever heard in his life, Max straightens in her chair. “Well, I don’t love giving advice to annoying teenage boys, but I’ve been told I’m good at it. Advice, you know.”

Mike raises an eyebrow. “Was it El who said that, by chance?”

“Bite me.”

Amused, Mike smiles, and he slides the near-empty cup between his hands like a little game, something else to focus on. “Okay, fine, give me some advice.”

Max frowns at him like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Maybe give me a situation to work with?” She mutters something under her breath that he doesn’t bother with.

“Well, the Byers are coming home and staying with us, and I wanted to come up with something really nice to do, you know. I know that they’re really nervous because it’s… the holidays have been rough, the past few years.” He finishes his drink and stares at the lid. “They almost refused. So, I dunno, I figured I could do something to make them feel like it’s still home.”

“Oh,” Max nods, finally breaking into a slight smile, “well, cool, you could set up something really romantic for El! She’d love it.”

Right. The girlfriend.

He had no clue where the hell they left things when the Byers moved. About a month ago, Mike called to tell her the distance was confusing and they might need to take a break. He figured she would’ve told Max because, from his understanding, they spoke on the phone on an almost daily basis.

“Sure - yeah, yeah, that’s - it’s a good idea. For sure.”

Max falls back into a confused squint. “Was there something else you had in mind?”

Mike isn’t sure how to get it out without sounding like a total airhead. So he copes with it the best way he can. “You know what, this was dumb. I’ll figure it out myself.” He grabs his jacket and stands to leave.

“No, no, Mike - I want to help.” She’s looking up at him with a genuinely nice expression, holding out a hand to stop him from fully up and leaving. “I’m really good at this stuff, just let me know what I can do. No judgment. I swear.”

“I have to get home tonight anyway,” Mike says cautiously. “Told my mom I’d help with dinner.”

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

He frowns, and something digging at his stomach makes him respond with, “Why do you care?”

Max’s jaw sets. She stands up to meet his eye level and sets a look on him. “Even if I didn’t, even if I couldn’t care less about you, Mike, I care about El. And Will. And I want to be a part of their homecoming. So maybe you could figure out a way to not be a dick about it.” She snatches her drink cup and storms off from the table, leaving Mike to scramble after her with more apologies.

He’s gotta get better at this whole ‘girls’ thing.

He catches up to her outside. “Okay, listen - come over after school tomorrow. We can meet outside by the stairs.”

She barely turns to him, says, “Fine,” and then hops on her bike and rides away.

That’s how Mike ends up with Max in his basement, slowly walking and examining his things, but not touching any of them, thankfully.

It’s going alright, thus far. A part of him feels like he should reach out to Lucas and Dustin, too, since they’re also Will’s best friends. But something about this… works. He and Max can’t seem to stay entirely civil in each other’s company, but she gets something. And she hasn’t brought up El even once since yesterday.

“So, I’m gonna come up with a really cool campaign - well, I’ve been working on it, and I can tell you about it - “ Max lifts herself on tiptoe in his peripheral vision, “ - but anyway, we can pull an all-nighter, if everyone’s up for it, and make snacks and drinks and stuff, and we can have movies on for you guys, and I thought I might even look for some costumes because I really think Will would get a kick out of it. I can put lights up, too - “

“You draw?”

Max’s back is to him, as she’s looking over his wall of posters and pinned pictures. As he steps closer, he realizes her eyes are fixed on a sketch that definitely bears some resemblance to him.

“No, Will sent me those,” he says quickly, not wanting to seem like a giant narcissist, because Will’s drawing is - how can he say it - beautiful. “He’s been using charcoal a lot recently, he told me he got some new art stuff. I think he wants to send one of all of us.”

Max turns to him, and he can’t tell if she’s tearing up for some reason, but she quickly wipes any sign of tears away. “That’s so neat,” is all she says at first. There’s a small silence between them, and she’s just looking at him, and he has no idea what the hell he should say. “He’s such a good person,” she adds quietly, “I wish I got the chance to really know him.”

Mike’s breath hitches for a few seconds. “Yeah. I mean, he mentioned hanging out with you a few times.”

A smile lifts the girl’s cheeks. “Yeah, to bitch about you, mostly.”

“Hey!” he protests, but he can’t help but smile too, this time. This might just be their most pleasant interaction to date. “He never mentioned that.”

“I don’t know how he could, all you freakin’ do is talk.”

“Whatever.” Mike messes with some Christmas crafts on the table, holding them up in his vision to see where they might fit in the basement. He clears his throat. “You know, El and I, uh - we split.”

Max nods slowly. “She said you guys don’t call much.”

“No, we didn’t. I mean, I don’t even call Will, we just write.” He leans against the table, eyes glazing over as he looks over years of memories, dorky craft nights, and shitty school projects that he or his mom made a point to keep. “It’s too hard to talk - to either of them, you know. I didn’t think I could hear their voices without…”

Max cuts him off. “I get it.” She crosses over to the table, helping him pull apart old paper snowflakes. “I’m just the opposite. I’m scared if I don’t talk to them, I’ll convince myself it was all fake. And maybe it’d be for the better, but I’m glad I knew them. Even if only for a little while.”

Mike bites down on his lips, attempting to bury all the emotion threatening to spew out of him. “Yeah.”

Max finally looks up at him, and though they seem to have shared a moment, she snaps back out of it. “All offense, Mike, these are ugly as shit. I’m helping you make new ones, okay?”

“It’s for the memory!”

“No more living in the past.” She raises her eyebrows at him, and he pinches his face in annoyance, so she says, “Okay, you can put them up, in like, little corners, but we’re making new ones. Surprise. Work with me here, Michael.”

“It’s my basement, Max.”

“Did you or did you not ask for my help?”

Mike blinks. “Not really.”

She throws a crafty paper star at him. “Shut up, you’re glad I’m here.”

He shakes his head and moves on, but though he may never admit it, a part of him really is glad.

Weeks pass in what feels like a span of days or maybe hours, with Mike and Max sorting out their surprise plans with a typical amount of bickering - but hey, they get it done. Max has lots of opinions about decorations and music that make Mike roll his eyes, but she’s got a good eye and she offers to help with baking, which is not a strong suit of his. Yes, they throw a lot of streamers at each other, and threaten to storm out every other hour, but it gets done.

And the day is finally here.

Mike pulls himself into his best festive sweater and eyes himself in the mirror. He messes with his hair, though the long, wavy curls never seem to fall exactly into place - maybe growing it out was a mistake - and tugs at the creases of his sweater, letting out a huffy breath. None of it is working with him. When he can’t stand looking at himself anymore, he dashes down to the kitchen to help his mom with desserts.

She smiles when he plops into a seat. “You okay, honey? You seem a little tense.”

Mike jolts. “Uh, yeah, just excited.”

“Good! Joyce said the kids haven’t stopped talking about the trip for weeks.”

Great. “I hope we live up to the hype.”

“Oh, Mike. You know you don’t have to try that hard.” Karen stops frosting for a moment to look at him. “Will’s your best friend. El is excited to see you,” she nudges at him, and he coughs out a nervous laugh, “and Joyce thinks you’re an angel-”

“God, mom-”

“I’m serious. Don’t worry so much.” She leans forward on her forearms. “I know you think every problem in the world is on you, but it’s not. It’s enough just to be around the people you love. If anything, you’ve gone overboard.”

Overboard. Hopefully, it’s not too much.

Finally, he caves, exhaling slowly with a simple, “Okay.” He stays beside her, tapping his fingers, and eventually ruining a gingerbread man’s face until she notices and smacks his hand away.

There’s a knock on the door, and while Mike hops to his feet, his mother calls out, “Come in!” earning a panicked look from him. She mouths, ‘Chill,’ but he still half-jogs to the door and throws it open.

Nancy calls down the stairs, “Who is it?”

It’s Max, brandishing a few small wrapped gifts.

“Hello, sunshine,” she says. After a moment, “It’s great to see you too, Michael, allow me to invite myself in.”

“It’s just Max,” Mike calls back. He steps aside, and Max brushes past him, dropping her gifts by their tree and running into the kitchen.

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler!”

“Hey, Max, Merry Christmas!”

Mike’s mom seemed to think Max was one of the most charming people on the planet, something they frequently disagreed on, but he can’t be mad at their pleasant chatter right now.

Especially not when the next knock comes so soon.

Probably just Lucas and Dustin, dragging their feet as usual.

Mike opens the door, prepared with a quippy remark for his friends, but his stomach drops immediately.

It’s Will. Holding a bunch of luggage.

Mike is caught up in everything about him. He’s taller. New, floppy hair, tousled and messy in the biting snowy winds. His forearms exposed as his bags push against his jacket. Will.

The boy smiles at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mike manages.

Will looks past him with a tiny wave, and Mike turns to see Max beaming and waving back, and then Max slips back into the kitchen and Will returns his gaze to Mike. “Can I come in?”

“Hey, Mike!” Joyce interrupts from the car, straining to grab something in the backseat. “Merry Christmas, honey!”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Byers!” Mike, finally catching up his brain-to-movement reactions, moves to let Will in. “Yeah, come in. I’m gonna, uh, go help your mom.”

“Cool.”

He immediately forgets why he’s moved and attempts to step out as Will crosses the threshold, almost knocking him over, so Mike grabs his arms to stabilize with a, “Sorry - uh - whoops, haha, don’t fall,” and Will chuckles and shifts a bag to his shoulder, saying, “It’s alright,” and Mike spends his walk to the Byers’ car trying not to curse himself out.

“Oh, Mike, thank you, sweetie,” Joyce grunts, pulling a heavy tote bag from the floor of the car. “Can you carry this?” Mike nods and takes it from her easily, offering his arms out for extra luggage. Together, with Jonathan, who greets him with a, “Merry Christmas, man,” they manage to get everything inside in one trip. Mike hardly notices El rummaging through the trunk until she comes stumbling along with a basket full of gifts.

Finally, they’re all inside, and only a beat goes by before Nancy comes bounding down the stairs to greet Jonathan, and Joyce is grinning around at everybody, and then Karen rushes in from the kitchen with excited greetings.

“It is so good to see you,” Joyce says, opening her arms up to Mike for a hug. “You’ve grown so much-'' she looks at Karen and mutters, “-so much-” then looks back at Mike. “We’ve missed you all.”

“I’ve missed you guys too,” Mike says, “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“We couldn’t miss it. Figured it’s best that we’re together, you know.” Her expression falters, but she takes a breath and carries on with moving bags and ‘Merry Christmases.’

Joyce and his mom wind up chattering, and Karen takes off her apron to help transfer some luggage to the spare room. Nancy takes Jonathan’s hand and heads upstairs, grabbing one of his bags from the ground.

Will seems to have disappeared into the kitchen with Max, leaving his things behind, so it’s just Mike and El.

Mike takes in a deep breath.

It wasn’t an ugly breakup; honestly, El seemed unfazed. Their calls were little more than small talk about their days, most of the time, and even though he thought they might hold onto their past, everything they’d been through… it seemed to work best that they didn’t.

“Hey, Merry Christmas.”

El smiles easily. “Merry Christmas, Mike.” She lifts the basket slightly for acknowledgment. “Can these go by the tree?”

“Yeah, yeah, go for it.”

El nods and slips by the couch over to the tree, carefully laying out the gifts. After a few moments of Mike awkwardly leaning against the couch arm, thinking up something to say - thank god she didn’t seem too focused on him - Max walks in, her mouth stuffed with a truffle.

“El!” She darts over to the tree, and El jumps up, eyes bright, immediately throwing her arms around the girl’s shoulders. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” El giggles. “I brought you a gift.”

“You too. I can’t wait for you to see it. But first, you have to try one of these sweets Mrs. Wheeler’s making. They’re like frickin’ heaven.” She holds out the last bite of her own, and El takes it from her hand, eyes lighting up mischievously as she bites into it.

“It’s amazing.”

“I know. I think we should go sample some of the others.”

Mike calls out to their backs, “You guys better leave some for later on,” and in response, hears Max mimic him. He rolls his eyes and stands up from the couch.

And then it’s just him and Will, who’s beaming at him, seemingly amused by their banter.

Okay, Mike, now or never. “Uh, I’ll show you downstairs.”

“We’re not staying in your room?” Will asks simply, crossing over to retrieve his duffel bag.

“We totally can, I just have something I wanted to show you.”

Will nods. “Oh, okay, cool.”

Mike assists with a smaller bag and leads him to the basement door; before he runs down the stairs, he catches Max’s eye, and she gives him a thumbs up and mouths, ‘You got this.’ Deep breaths. At that moment, he’s incredibly thankful for her presence.

He watches as Will follows him down, slower, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. His eyes catch on everything Mike and Max put together over the past few weeks, and his footsteps grow slower as he takes it all in.

Streamers of all festive colors and off-balance fairy lights hang along the corners of the basement, phrases of ‘Welcome home,’ hand-cut and pasted on the front wall; at the table, a game mat and figures sit in wait, silly hats placed in front each chair; even the TV is prepared with a Santa hat, the couch covered in blankets and pillows, a few sleeping bags folded on the floor.

“Mike,” Will says quietly, stepping in a small circle, “what is all this?”

“Your homecoming party.” Mike is all jitters; he leans against the wall and shoves his hands in his pockets to disguise any visible shakes. “You like it?”

Will finally looks straight at him, an indiscernible look painted on his face. “Yeah,” he says, nodding rapidly, “yeah, it’s great - but we, uh,” he swallows and shakes his head, “we don’t, um, have to play D&D. I mean-”

“I don’t know, Will,” he ventures to step away from the wall, taking slow steps over to the table. Will follows every move. “I mean, I was really excited to have you back, even just for a little bit. We all were.” He reaches the table and leans back on his hands. “Figured having our cleric back warranted some festivities.”

Will shakes his head, runs his hands along his face, and turns away. The bit of confidence Mike has slowly starts to trickle.

“Is it okay?”

Will shakes out of his stupor and chuckles. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You’ve truly outdone yourself, Michael.” He lifts himself on tiptoe to look at decorations on top of Mike’s shelves. “Are these from our big craft night, like, years ago?”

The horrible crayon work makes Mike smile - they made half of the snowmen evil, citing a Great Abominable Snowman War, and gave them wicked frowns and smiles, claws on their stick hands. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you kept them.”

“I keep everything.” An awkward chuckle breaks from his chest. “Not everything, like, a hoarder or whatever, but - “

Will simply smiles and pushes himself forward toward the back wall, brushing past Mike, to his different pinups. He fixates on the sketch of Mike that he’d sent about a month back. “You know, you should probably take this down. I don’t think you’ll hear the end of it from Lucas and Dustin if you don’t.”

“Screw ‘em.”

“Right.” Will quirks his eyebrow and moves to sit in his designated chair, right next to where Mike is currently resting. “So, they know about D&D?”

“They know.” Mike smiles, and looks at the floor, right where their legs brush up against each other. “They seem pretty excited to have the party back together. To remind you of how badass your first one was,” he adds.

Will peers up at him for a moment before quietly saying, “I never joined another one.” Mike meets his eye for a moment, then, threatened by the silence that follows, clears his throat and distracts himself with a particularly interesting notch in the wood paneling. “Did you guys find someone else?”

“No, no,” Mike assures him. “We haven’t touched any of this stuff. It’s not the same.”

A silence settles between them, one that neither seems to know how to navigate. But Will keeps his gaze steady on Mike, trying to breach some barrier, to fall back into their usual ways.

Something is different, though; it’s not uncomfortable, it never could be, but it’s something intimidating. Will seems more comfortable, at least; he’s not shying away from anything Mike throws at him.

And he tries to break the silence first. “Y’know - “

“Will,” Mike cuts him off, and he’s not sure what he’s saying, or where he’s going with it, but he knows he’s supposed to say this. His name. “I need you to know that I missed you.”

Will blinks at him, cocks his head. “I missed you too,” he says matter-of-factly.

The words are eating at him, right there on the edge of his mind, and Will looks almost concerned and now Mike just wants to drop it because that’s not what he wanted. But he can’t, not now. “I missed you the most.” It sounds so juvenile. “More than everyone else. I missed you before you even left. I just didn’t know how to say it.” He breathes in and out, focusing on Will’s cheeks, the tip of his nose, anything but his eyes. When Will doesn’t say anything, the rest just spills. “I missed you when our first first day of school apart came and passed, and I didn’t even call. I missed you at homecoming. And,” he licks his lips, not really sure where his speech is heading, “I know you had to go, it’s fine. We’ll figure it out. But I feel like we haven’t been on the same page in a long time. So, I missed you, and I love you, and that’s that.”

Will looks at him funny, and then his face softens into something like laughter, and Mike is genuinely about to run and throw up somewhere, but then the boy closes his eyes and says, “I love you too.”

Mike blanches. “I don’t think I said that.”

“Oh, you definitely did.”

“Oh,” he nods, mind spinning, “well, you know…”

Will stands to be at Mike’s level, leans forward on his knees. Mike stops breathing. “I do,” he says, “but tell me again.”

Mike swallows down a breath of courage and suggests, “I think I might like you.” His eyes flit to Will’s lips, then back to his eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll allow it,” Will says, a bright smile causing lines near his eyes. Mike smacks at his arm, nervous laughter coming out with a quiet, ‘Shut up.’ Will moves so he’s resting his fingertips on the table. Inches away.

“Same page, then?” Mike asks.

“Same page, yeah, for sure.”

Mike nods absently, distracting himself with the strings on Will’s sweatshirt. “So I don’t sound crazy?”

Will laughs. “I dunno. I always counted on us going crazy together. Figured we might have a few extra years, but hey, I’m all in.”

And then Mike is flashed back to a night on his couch just over a year ago. Knees knocking together, shared smiles. A promise.

So much has changed.

He wants to know what Will meant. A future of being in each other’s lives, maybe, getting old and senile and batshit crazy. Always being there.

He never dared to think about it before.

“So what now?”

Will shrugs. He dips his head to meet Mike’s eyes with his own. “What do you want, Mike?”

And finally, he thinks he might know.

Or maybe he’s always known.

He scoots forward, takes Will’s face in his hands, and kisses him. It’s just a quick press of their lips, but in that moment, he knows a few things for sure. His heartbeat is going a mile a minute, and Will must be able to feel it; it’s absolutely exhilarating, surreal, insane that he’s kissing his best friend; and, he is definitely in like, or maybe love, with Will Byers.

He’ll probably love him forever.

When Mike pulls back and his eyes flutter open to see Will, flushed, blinking back at him, slightly dazed, he doesn’t want to pull away at all. He did that. Mike’s hand remains on his jaw, lax, and he runs his thumb along Will’s bottom lip, curious to see his reaction, curious about a lot, now.

Will lets out a breathy chuckle. “Wow,” he mumbles, “that’s new.”

“Yeah.” Mike exhales shakily, takes one of Will’s hands, and says, “Merry Christmas, Will.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas.”

The world doesn’t seem to fall apart like Mike thought it might if he ever got to this point, so, that’s nice.

“So…” Mike begins carefully, “you’re gonna have to be slow with me here. This is sort of a lot for me.”

“Me too,” Will replies simply. He squeezes Mike’s hand. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“Totally.”

Will takes his cheeks in his hands and smiles into a very gentle kiss, his fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Mike’s neck. It’s soft and sweet and lingering - but not for too long, as moments later the door upstairs busts open and shouts of, “BYERS!” from their dear friends sound through the air, and Mike and Will jump apart, equally startled and laughing.

“Down here!” Will calls out. He looks at Mike, smiles, offers, “To be continued?” and as he walks past, he leans in, just to leave a quick peck on Mike’s cheek.

And all Mike can do is laugh and shake his head and run after him to meet their friends; Lucas and Dustin are horribly late to the surprise, but they collide into Will the second they see him, shouting over each other, ‘What’s going on, dude?’ ‘Merry Christmas!’ ‘You’ve missed so much,’ and everyone is grinning and chattering, and it’s awesome.

Max approaches him, watching all of the madness, smacks a hand to his shoulder, and says, “You did good, Wheeler.”

“Yeah, I did.” She punches his arm lightly, laughing, so he adds, “thank you for everything. Seriously.”

“I think we should work together more often.”

Mike scoffs into a laugh, and says, “Yeah, guess so.”

Max rolls her eyes, but at least now they’re actually laughing in each other's company. It’s great progress from just a few weeks ago.

After a minute of watching the boy’s shenanigans, Max smiles. “Well, Merry Christmas, anyway.”

“Merry Christmas,” he responds, and he watches as she jumps up onto a kitchen stool, chatting and giggling with El.

With everyone back together again, finally, Mike feels really alive; so, he jumps in with all the excited shouting and group hugs and bickering, and celebrates the merriest Christmas he can remember in a long time.

#stranger things #hawkinsholidayhiatus #tuserjake #byler #byeler #mike wheeler #will byers #fanfiction #playlist #ik it might be a lil cheesy/dorky BUT i hope it makes u smile it was written w a lot of love <3 #mine

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halcyonstorm · 3 years

Text

The Girl at the Library Chapter 2

Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoe

Themes: College AU, Library, Fluff, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Female Hange Zoe, Student!Levi

Word Count: 5870

Summary: Levi visits Hange in her dorm. He misses his family but is too busy to drive. Hange has a car.

Chapter: 2/3

Warning: Mild Language

Read on AO3 here

Levi went back to his dorm room after the encounter with Hange. He seemed to be walking a bit faster.

The skip in his step, unfortunately, quickly dissipated once he walked in his room. His roommate was hanging out with a few friends, two he recognized were the guys who fucked up his laptop. As soon as they saw Levi, their conversation came to a halt. The two brats nervously gathered their things and rushed out of the room. Levi shook his head in annoyance, shutting the door behind them. He placed his wet bag on the floor. Right. He was soaked from the rain.

“Levi, good to see you,” Erwin --his roommate-- said, slightly annoyed. There was a card game set up on the small table in their dorm. Levi didn’t respond and walked past them. He always had friends over. Levi was always pissed about it. The least he could’ve done was ask. The room was small enough as it is. Also, Erwin and his friends always left a mess.

Levi’s and Erwin’s dorm room was small. Would Hange’s room be this small? he asked himself. He felt himself get hot. He grabbed a fresh change of clothes, went to their bathroom and changed. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. He hung up all his wet clothes in their shower. Levi took a deep breath, leaving the bathroom. He spent the rest of the night thinking of his new friend, and his mood was restored.

The next day couldn’t come fast enough. He woke up at 8am that morning to go on a run and to get some of his physical homework done. He also showered, spending an extra minute than usual. He wondered if he should bring something for Hange.

“Erwin, what snacks do you have?” He asked, starting to dress in the bathroom. He put on a pair of black jeans and an olive green t-shirt.

“Uh,” he shuffled through his ‘secret’ stash. Levi knew where it was. “I’ve got chips, granola bars, ramen, peanut butter…”

What the fuck am I gonna do with peanut butter? He asked himself.

Levi shook his head and rolled his eyes. He finished getting dressed and grabbed a few bags of chips and stuffed them in his bag. He made sure to pack his notes too.

It was finally 10:45 and he decided to leave to go to her dorm. He brought his phone, keys, wallet, and backpack with him.

“Be back later,” Levi called out before closing the door behind him. Levi began walking to her room. He had to take the elevator up four floors, making stops along the way, but he made it. 506… On his left side, there it was. On the door were two drawn cut-outs of the two residents. He recognized Hange’s drawing right away. It was colored in with colored pencils. The character had her same brown hairstyle; closed, happy eyes; oval glasses; and a big toothy smile. She wore a green long sleeve and brown pants. Her character was waving. Under her character, it has the name “Hange” in big green block letters. The other character was of a girl with short blonde hairstyle and blue eyes. Her character was smiling but had her eyes open. That must be her roommate. The name written underneath the drawing was “Nanaba” in blue bubble letters. Levi hesitantly knocked at the door after admiring the drawings.

Hange opened the door. “Hey!” “Hi.”

She invited him in. One half of the dorm room was messy and the other was averagely neat, at least in Levi’s eyes. She shut the door behind him.

“Ehh, I’m sorry my side of the room is kinda messy,” She confessed. She had the messy side of the room. Her bed was made, but her desk was a mess. Papers, books, and food wrappers were spread out on the desk and migrated to her bed. There were at least four empty ramen containers on her desk, which she clumsily grabbed and tossed away. Hange grabbed the papers off her desk and moved them to the side, clearing the spot for him. She lazily crumpled some food wrappers and threw them in the trash, one wrapper missing and falling on the floor. Levi shuddered. How did she live like this? The foot of her bed met the left edge of the desk. Her desk was big; It had many drawers and an overhang where she had small knick knacks including small comic book figurines, plants, and books. She had a figurine of a character with a green hooded cape on who looked like a soldier. He really liked that one.

“Let me just log you on.” She bent over the chair to use the computer. Levi put his bag down next to the desk. “Thank you.” Levi said.

“Oh, It’s nothing,” she said. After a few moments, she stood upright, backing away from the computer. “Alright! You’re good to go. If you need my help, I’m here. I have some work to do too.” He nodded, sitting down in the very comfortable desk chair. He let out a relieved sigh. Hange chuckled.

“Comfortable, right?” She asked, jumping on her bed and crossing her legs. Levi agreed. It was comfortable. It was one of those gaming-like chairs with cushions and lower back support. He noticed she had a bunch of bookmarks tabbed which were disorganized. He began to type in “Addison’s Disease” and as he did, he noticed it was recently searched. Before he could ask about it, Hange began to speak.

“I found some articles for your paper,” she explained, not looking away from her books. “I printed them out for you.”

Levi was pleasantly surprised. He hid a smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She shrugged. “Pfft. Shush. I wanted to.” There was a pause. “Oh! I made sandwiches for us. I know it’s kinda early for lunch, but I’ve been up since 6 this morning so I’m starving. I hope you like PB&J.”

Fuck! Levi thought. Erwin’s peanut butter. I could’ve made sandwiches. He mentally smacked his forehead.

“I brought some chips,” Levi added. “Take whatever you want.” He grabbed some bags from his backpack and placed them on her bed. He grabbed a blue bag of Doritos, she grabbed a bag of Fritos.

“Thanks,” she said, popping the bag open by squeezing it. Some chips flew out of the bag, falling on the bed.

“What?” Levi asked, bewildered. Why did she open it like that?

“I’m not good with pulling the seal open…” she admitted, chuckling. Levi found it weird. Levi locked eyes with her and opened the bag by pulling the seal open with ease. Hange pouted.

“No fair.” She laughed. He was never going to get any work done if she kept distracting him. He grabbed a sandwich and ate it. He really enjoyed it, especially since she made it.

“Thanks for lunch,” he said. He was kind of hungry anyways.

“No problem!”

The two began to work.

About three hours passed before Levi finished his paper. He ended his final sentence with a loud tap of the period on the keyboard. He took a deep breath and looked Hange's way. She was prone, resting her chin in her left palm. Her feet were in the air, crossed at the ankles. She was reading a textbook and had a pen and paper on her right side, probably answering homework. She looked very studious and attractive.

“I’m finished with my paper…” Levi said aloud. “Can I read it to you?”

Hange quickly wrote something down on her paper, dropped the pen, and pushed herself up to sit criss-crossed.

“Yep! I’m all ears.”

He began to read through his paper. He realized during his speech that this was probably the most he’s said to Hange. He felt guilty in a way. He was bad with words, so he felt it was better if he kept his mouth shut. Hange didn’t mind, though. She enjoyed hearing him talk, as she found it very soothing. As he read, he felt her eyes on him. He finally finished reading his paper.

“I have a few suggestions on some wording, but besides that, I think it’s great,” Hange said, getting out of bed. She walked to Levi’s right, then squatted. Levi felt himself get nervous. She was really close. He thought she smelled good.

“Scroll up a little…” she said, gesturing to him to scroll up. He did as she asked. “There. That sentence: ‘Medications used to treat Addison’s Disease include mineralocorticoids and glucocorticoids, such as fludrocortisone and hydrocortisone.’ It is kinda wordy. They’re both corticosteroids, so I think you should shorten it. You can mention the classes of the drugs in the next sentence, if you wanted to. Also, ‘A big teaching point includes following the steroid regimen exactly as prescribed. Abruptly discontinuing this medication will result in adrenal suppression.’ I think there is a better word to use than ‘big’. What about ‘important’, or ‘essential’ or ‘paramount’...”

He turned his head to look at her. Hange’s sentence had trailed off the moment he looked at her. She was stunned by his eyes. She hadn’t been this close to him, so that moment was the first time she could admire his eyes up close. They were a beautiful, piercing steel blue. When she realized he was staring back at her, she stood up, shaking out her legs nervously.

“‘Paramount’ will do,” Levi said after a moment passed. He typed it in.

“Good job, Levi. You’ll score well with your paper,” Hange said, trying not to stutter. She meant it. She was proud of what he wrote.

“Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without your help, though, four-eyes.” Hange liked the nickname. She smiled and patted his shoulder before going back to sit on her bed. She grabbed her phone and realized she didn’t have his phone number. Did he have a phone? He must have. She thinks she saw him use it once.

“If you need my computer again, or just wanna text, I can give you my number,” Hange blurted out. When Levi looked at her, he realized she wasn’t looking at him when she asked. He agreed, handing his phone to her.

“Go for it,” he said. He was attempting to sound ‘cool’ (and it worked). Hange reached to grab his unlocked phone. She found his contacts and put her name and number in. She sent herself a text message from his phone. She was hoping he would text her more. When she closed out to the home screen, she noticed his background was a photo of him and a small, dark haired lady.

“Is this your mother?” Hange asked, handing his phone back to him.

He looked down at his phone and nodded. “Yeah. This photo is from my first day at the university.” He had swiveled the chair to face the bed and her. “I remember she was sad to see me go, but happy too. She was proud of me.” Hange’s heart swelled. Levi seemed to remember her with a bittersweet smile. Hange frowned a bit.

“Is something wrong?” Hange asked.

“I just… haven’t seen her in a while. I’ve been so busy with assignments and exams that I haven’t had time to go visit her. Every time I have free time, I’m studying or catching up on sleep...”

“I can take you,” Hange offered instantaneously. She didn’t even have to think about it. She wanted to help her friend.

Levi’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You have to get stuff done and I have a car on campus and a license Let me take you.” She explained. Before he could bud in, she continued. “What day would you like to go? This weekend? I’m free this weekend.”

“I’d never get any studying done if we did that,” Levi said. We.

“You didn’t say no,” Hange retorted with a smirk. “I’ll be good. I won’t distract you. Promise.”

Levi took a deep sigh. He really wanted to, more than he let on. “Saturday morning works for me.”

A few days passed by and now Friday came along. Levi’s paper was due in three days, so he wanted to go to the library to revise it before printing and submitting it. He knew Hange worked on Friday’s too, so he had another motive.

His class had ended, then he was on his way to the library. When he entered, he heard laughter. Don’t people know they’re supposed to be quiet in the library? He wondered, but he didn’t pay much mind to it. There was a blonde woman standing at the front of the counter, leaning over it. He heard Hange’s voice and laugh and felt his heart skip a beat.

“I gotta see if the patron needs help,” Hange said to the girl without noticing who walked in.

“Zoe, since when do you actually care about your job?” The blonde said playfully. Hange smiled and rolled her eyes. Zoe? Hange made her way around the desk and saw Levi standing, looking at some books in the entryway.

“Levi! Good to see you,” Hange said, pleasantly surprised. She held her hands behind her back. “Computer?”

“Yeah.”

“Very good, come here.” Hange walked towards the desk, then around it. Levi stayed on the opposing side. “Levi, this is Nanaba. Nanaba, this is Levi. Nanaba is my roommate.”

“Nice to meet you, Levi,” Nanaba said, smiling at him. He nodded, exchanging pleasantries. Hange wrote his name down on the paper. “Okay, Levi. You’re all set.” He muttered a “thanks'' and then set his stuff down by the computer. He heard Nanaba whispering something to Hange. She shook her head, waving at her to follow her towards the back. Hange didn’t want to disturb Levi, and she also didn’t want Levi to hear what they were talking about.

Hange and Nanaba sat down at the table in the break room. Hange sipped on a can of soda.

“That’s Levi?” Nanaba asked, punching Hange’s shoulder playfully.

“Yeah. He’s just my friend. I don’t know why you care so much.”

“You two were in our dorm… alone?! Do I need to clean the room again?”

“No! He just had to work on his project. My side of the room is messy, though.”

“Uh huh… I can tell by the way he looks at you that you two aren’t ‘just friends’ like you claim,” Nanaba concluded, leaning back and crossing her legs.

“I told you it’s nothing,” Hange reinforced, getting flustered and annoyed. “Besides, he wouldn’t even be attracted to someone like me anyways. I am extremely messy and clumsy. His shirts are never wrinkled, and he is always extremely clean and neat.”

Nanaba rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you heard of ‘opposites attract’?” Hange made a “pfft” sound.

“That’s such bullshit.” Hange felt like Nanaba was giving her false hope.

“Well you wouldn’t be asking me for advice on your crush then if you thought the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing was bullshit, would you? No.”

The small bell above the entrance dinged, so Hange stood up. “Nanaba, I’ve got work to do, you know. That’s what you do at a job. Also, he is not my crush. ” Nanaba sighed and stood too. “I’ll see you at home.” She waved before walking ahead. “Bye, Levi. Nice to meet you.” She said in passing. Levi said “see you” to her. The patron who walked in was the same blonde guy with a big nose from last week. Levi recognized him.

“Mike!” Nanaba exclaimed, kissing his cheek. “Good to see you. Ready to go?” Mike nodded, taking her hand. “See you later, Zoe!” She called out before the couple left together. Hange and Levi were alone again. Hange came to the front of the library where Levi was. She sat down in the chair next to him. He turned to face her. Her cheeks were red.

“What time do you want to leave tomorrow?” Hange asked, crossing her legs.

“Is 9 good? I wanna make sure I spend enough time with her.” Levi suggested. Hange smiled.

“That’s fine. Just let me know when you want me to pick you up then. I can stay in the area, just send me the address.”

“You can stay, you know,” Levi offered. “You… don’t have to leave.” Hange looked shocked. She was very grateful for his offer.

“Are you sure? I mean, that’s very generous-”

“Don’t question me,” Levi said, looking back at the computer. That means ‘yes, I’m sure’.

“Thanks, Levi,” Hange said, standing up. “I’ll meet you at your dorm at 9 then we can get on the road.”

“Sounds good, Zoe.”

Hange woke up early the next day. She wanted to make sure everything went perfectly. She even got up early to clean out her car, which was a mess. It was full of junk. She had a pre-owned black four-seater that was well loved. She made it as clean as possible, making sure to wipe off the seats of any crumbs. It looked acceptable, and Hange went back inside. She realized at this point how long of a walk it was from her dorm to the parking lot. Nonetheless, she took the extra trip. She wanted to make a good impression. When she got back to her dorm, she packed a small backpack. Levi had texted her the address, and it was about an hour away. It was in the city, however, so it would probably take more time. She kept reminding herself to keep her mouth shut during the car ride to help him study.

She arrived at his dorm room a bit late, around 9:10. She felt really bad about this, but Levi didn’t seem to mind. Levi wore a grey university hoodie with black jeans. It was supposed to be cold today. Hange wore a black zip-up jacket with a pair of blue jeans and white sneakers. Her hair was half-up and half-down. Levi liked those colors on her. They headed for the elevator and walked to the parking lot. Hange omitted the part of her morning where she cleaned out her car as they talked about their mornings. They reached her car. She opened the trunk. He put his bag in the trunk and shut it.

“Don’t forget to keep your books in the front so you can study. I packed snacks. If you want any just let me know,” Hange said, unlocking the front door and getting in the car.

“Thanks,” Levi said, getting in the car. He closed the door. Hange locked the car and opened her phone. She began searching his mom’s address on the GPS. It ‘dinged’ when it found her house, and she propped her phone up in the holder.

As Hange began to drive, she noticed how Levi murmurs to himself when he studies. She can hear him repeating medications to himself and reciting the cards. Hange smiled. She found it endearing. The roads were pretty busy. They had left by 9:30am. Hange enjoyed driving, however, she wasn’t the most safe driver. She would make sudden stops, jerking Levi and Hange forward in their seats. Levi was grateful his seatbelt worked. She would make sharp turns and didn’t allow the wheel to return when the turn was finished. With one of the stops, it threw the cards that were in his lap on the floor. Levi took a deep sigh, packing up his cards.

“Sorry, Levi.”

“I’m taking a break,” Levi said, closing his eyes. “I have this exam coming up and it’s all about antihypertensive medications. There are too many, I think I’m going to develop hypertension.”

Hange laughed out loud. “They aren’t that bad. You’ve gotta come up with songs and mnemonics to remember them, then it's easy!” Levi scoffed.

“Do I look like someone who comes up with songs to remember things?” Levi asked, crossing his arms.

“No,” Hange quickly replied. “But you happen to be sitting next to someone who does. Read some of the meds to me.”

“Oh, god. No,” Levi moaned, opening the window. The breeze made his hair blow in the wind. Hange was lucky enough to catch a glance. She caught a whiff of his shampoo.

“I will stop this car right now,” Hange threatened playfully, raising her voice. She made a jolting stop at a light. Levi jerked forward again and groaned.

“Fine.”

He pulled his cards out of his backpack again, finding the medication cards. “First are the ACE inhibitors. These medications include the -prils… Lisinopril, enalapril. These help lower the blood pressure by inhibiting the action of angiotension converting enzyme, which causes vasoconstriction. Adverse effects include high potassium, orthostatic hypotension, angioedema, persistent coughing…”

“Hmmm… ACE,” Hange said proudly. Levi shook his head in confusion. “What?”

“ACE: Angioedema, Cough, hypErkalemia.” Levi was shocked. “Thanks…” He murmured.

“Give me another one,” Hange challenged. Levi shuffled through his stack. “What about Beta blockers?”

“Ah…” Hange sighed. “Tell me about them. I only know so much, you know.” You can’t say you know then say I know that you only know so much. You are confusing, Levi thought.

“Beta blockers act on beta1 and beta2-adrenergic receptors, which can affect the heart, lungs, and bladder. These will lower blood pressure, as well as cause bradycardia, hypoglycemia, fatigue, and bronchospasms in patients with respiratory issues such as asthma and COPD,” Levi explained. Hange was so happy. She was helping him, and got to hear him talk. She decided at that moment that she loved his voice.

“Beta blockers seem to slow everything down,” Hange began. “Beta blockers make everything low and slow, right? They lower heart rate and blood pressure, they lower blood sugar, quote en quote ‘lower energy’ by causing fatigue… That’s what I would try to remember.”

Levi was impressed, and he isn’t impressed easily. She was extremely clever with her mnemonics, and she wasn’t even a pharmacology major.

“You are…” Levi began. Hange looked at him for a moment while they stopped at another light. He felt woozy, but in a good way. She looked nice. “Such a nerd.” Hange beamed.

“I’ll help you more later but I gotta focus on the road now. Levi smiled, putting his cards away. Hange noticed this, and turned the radio on. She got distracted trying to pick a channel, which made Levi frantic.

“I will pick a channel. Focus on the road, four-eyes,” He decided, shaking his head. His heart almost fell out of his chest. He made a mental note to never let her drive him anywhere again. Hange sighed, submissively agreeing, putting both hands on the wheel. They got into the city. Hange hadn’t been to the city often, even though it was not too far away. Levi disliked the city. It was too loud for him. Being out at the Uni didn’t make it as easy for him to sleep as he had originally thought. He was used to hearing the hustle and bustle of the city, that his ears buzzed with silence at night time on campus. Levi attempted to give Hange directions as they weaved their way through the busy roads. She almost got into two car accidents. She just laughed it off, but Levi was frazzled.

Finally, Levi thought. Out of the main city. Levi took a deep, deep breath. His mom lived on the outskirts of the city, which was very convenient. They were almost there. Hange finally found the house and pulled into the driveway. The house was small and a dark navy blue. Hange parked the car, and opened the trunk. She handed Levi his bag and they headed to the door. Hange was standing awfully close behind him which made him nervous. He knocked on the door.

A few moments later, the door opened. A beautiful lady opened the door. She had raven hair, steel blue eyes, and a beautiful smile.

“Levi!” She exclaimed, smiling wide. She hugged him. Levi patted her back, and Hange saw a smile creep on his face. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“Good to see you, mom. I wanted to visit.” They broke away and his mom peered over his shoulder.

“Who’s this?”

“This is my friend, Hange,” Levi said, introducing Hange. She smiled and put out her hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Ackerman.” His mom shook her hand.

“Call me Kuchel,” She insisted. She invited them in.

“Hange actually drove me today,” Levi began, setting his bags down on the side. “I needed to study so she offered to drive…” He wasn’t sure why he told his mom this information. Maybe he felt he needed an excuse as to why he came with a girl.

“That’s so lovely! Well I’m glad the two of you decided to come down. Uncle Kenny will be stopping by later. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. Miss Hange, are you staying for dinner?”

Hange blushed, scratching her head. “I’d love to, if that’s okay.”

“Great! Make yourself at home.”

Hange admired his house. It was very cozy and extremely neat. There was a big open living room area when they first walked in, a kitchen and dining room to their left, and other rooms to the right. It smelt of clean laundry. She liked it a lot. There were assorted pictures hung on the wall. She shoved her hands in her pockets as she admired the photos. Kuchel had a photo of Levi hanging, which Hange stared at for the longest. It was a photo of Levi with his mom at an event, most likely high school graduation. The photo was taken outside on a sunny day. He wore a blue cap and gown. Kuchel’s arm was around his shoulder, smiling wide. Levi wore a small smile. She saw another picture, which was of Kuchel and an older man with long hair. Hange suddenly felt a tug at her sleeve. Levi.

“Take your shoes off,” he said. Hange slipped her shoes off and put them on the rack.

“Levi! Hange!” Kuchel called. “Would you like some tea?” They both agreed. They wandered into the small dining room and sat across from each other. Hange liked how Levi looked that day. He looked comfortable. His grey sweater made his eyes stand out. He almost caught her standing. Kuchel carefully brought over the steeped pot of tea and sat down at the head of the table.

“I boiled some earl grey tea, I hope that’s okay. That’s Levi’s favorite,” Kuchel said, cupping both her hands around the teacup. Levi picked his tea cup up by placing his fingers around the rim, taking a slow sip.

“Hange,” Kuchel said, smiling at the girl. “How do you guys meet?”

Oh great. Here she goes.

“Well, Levi happened to come to the library I work at to work on his project. I was able to help him out… Although I study botanicals, I read a lot so I know a lot about different topics. One of them happens to be drugs. Medications, I mean. So, anyways, he and I started talking and hanging out and whatnot. And here we are,” Hange explained. When she finished, she looked at Levi. He was staring at her. Her eyes lit up again, and Levi couldn’t look away. Doesn’t everyone know they shouldn’t stare into the sun?

“That’s lovely!” Kuchel exclaims. She sips her tea. “Levi usually doesn’t ask for help. But I’m glad you were able to help him. I remember back in elementary school, he would always insist on doing the projects himself. My stubborn boy. He gets that from me, you know. I can be so stubborn sometimes.” She took a pause, and Levi jumped in.

“Mom,” Levi intervened. Kuchel looked at her son. Kuchel could tell she may have been embarrassing him. “I’m gonna go study.” Come with me, Hange, he wanted to add. Hange finished her tea, and stood up. “Thank you for the tea, Kuchel. I’d love to hear more of your stories, but I offered to help Levi study.” Kuchel smiled, squeezing Hange’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, go on ahead.” The two nodded. Levi led her down the hall, and opened a door. It looked like Levi’s bedroom. It was extremely tidy. He also had a desk. It wasn’t too big, but did the job. He had some drawers with some photos on top. He kept the door open.

“You can take the desk chair. I’ll sit on the bed,” Levi concluded. He sat on the bed, pulling his knees up. He took out his drug flash cards.

“Levi, do you have a white board? Or poster board?” Hange asked.

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” Levi remembered he had an easel in the back of his closet. He stood up to retrieve it. He finally set it up. It was wide, which was perfect. It’s spotless, Hange thought. It’s like he never used it.

“My mom got this for me but I have yet to use it,” Levi said. Did he hear me?

“Okay,” Hange began. “So, we talked about ACE inhibitors and Beta Blockers, right? So, let’s go through the rest and compare them all.” She took out a purple marker, beginning to write on the board. In the center, she wrote “Anti-HTN Meds”. She drew an arrow to the left corner, writing “ACE Inhibitors” and writing all its information. She did the same with Beta Blockers.

“What’s next?” Hange asked, looking at Levi.

“Thiazide diuretics,” Levi sighed. “This is HCTZ. It helps lower blood pressure by removing fluids from the body, resulting in diuresis. Side effects include hypokalemia and hyponatremia, orthostatic hypotension.” Hange wrote as he spoke. He was surprised she can write so fast.

“Okay! So, it seems that a common theme is orthostatic hypotension, no?” She questioned, not facing him. She grabbed a red marker to write “orthostatic hypotension” and replaced the other one written. As Levi read off multiple classifications of medications, Hange created the web. She made a map that connected the similarities of the medications, while making it organized enough to understand the differences. Levi was impressed for the second time that day. Hange was sincerely helping him conceptualize and comprehend the information. Then, he realized Hange hadn’t sat down since they began studying.

“Oi, don’t break your back,” Levi said.

“Haha! I’m fine! I’ve only been standing since around 11 am...” She took her phone out of her pocket and turned it on for the time. “...it’s almost 3 now! Wow! We really pushed through for hours! That’s fantastic!” She smiled wide at him, but Levi could tell she was exhausted from standing.

Levi hopped off his bed. “Lay down,” He ordered. Hange furrowed her brows, but didn’t protest. She sprawled supine on his bed, sighing. “Thanks, Levi,” She exhaled, closing her eyes. His bed was still a bit warm from when he was occupying it. It was lower than her bed at her dorm, but she liked it.

“Let’s take a break,” Levi decided. He had a small flatscreen TV mounted on the wall in his room. He walked to the TV to grab the remote, and turned it on. He admired Hange for a brief moment as he passed her to sit in the desk chair. She looked tired. He put on a crime documentary. Hange perked up automatically. Her eyes widened with interest.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised you like these,” Levi assumed. She chuckled and replied: “I guess we’re both freaks after all.” It made Hange’s heart happy that they had something in common. She was worried Levi wouldn’t like her since she was so different from him, but maybe she had a chance now. She was so absorbed in the show that she didn’t realize Levi left the room to grab something to eat. Levi greeted his mom.

“Hi, honey,” Kuchel responded. “How’s Hange?”

“She’s fine. I wanted to get us something to eat.”

“Oh! You’re in luck,” Kuchel cheered, opening a cabinet to grab two bowls. “I just heated up some soup for myself. Would you like some? It’s wild rice.”

“Sounds good,” Levi replied. Kuchel filled two bowls.

“She’s pretty, your friend Hange,” Kuchel said. She wasn’t facing Levi when she spoke. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you two ended up dating. You seem to like her a lot.” Levi felt his face flush bright red.

“Thanks for the food,” He ignored her comment, taking the bowls to his room. He made sure to keep his face out of his mother’s sight. Kuchel giggled softly to herself. She knew he wouldn’t dare to reply to a comment that he knew was true.

He came back to the room with the two bowls. “Here’s lunch,” He said, handing her the bowl. Hange was sitting with her knees to her chest, intently staring at the screen. She looked toward him when he spoke, accepting the bowl in two cupped hands. “Thank you!” She smiled wide. He smiled too. He loved her smile. “When did you get this, anyways?”

“I left the room to get it. I said, ‘Hange, I’m getting us lunch.’ You didn’t hear me?”

Hange chuckled in embarrassment. “I guess I was too absorbed in the show. Sorry.” Levi shook his head lightly and sat down. He attempted to move the chair closer to the bed without her noticing. He was successful. Hange was sitting up on the bed with her legs criss-crossed, bowl in her lap. Levi was cross-legged in the desk chair, which was right next to the bed. Hange didn’t seem to mind or even notice until she had turned to look to her right, and she realized Levi was so close to her. His face was really close. He felt her staring, but couldn’t dare to look back. His heart would’ve exploded.

“You’re staring is creeping me out, four-eyes,” Levi said, startling Hange.

“Oh, yeah?” Hange chuckled. She suddenly grabbed his chin and turned his head towards hers. His wide eyes were staring into hers now. He felt like his heart was about to explode. “What about now?”

“...Creep,” He murmured. The tone of his voice changed entirely compared to his previous statement. Hange noticed this. His voice was soft and nervous. Levi felt his whole body start to heat up. He felt his heart throbbing in his head. He felt his breath hitch in his throat. He gently placed his hand on her cheek. She accepted his touch. He leaned in hesitantly, closing his eyes. Hange did the same, and finally there was no space between them anymore. Their lips collided. She kissed his lips softly, as if she was nervous to kiss too hard. Levi had kissed girls before, but it was never like this. Never so emotional. Never so breathtaking. Never so soft or warm or gentle. He never wanted it to end. He was smitten by her. Their lips parted. She wasn’t extremely close after they parted, but she kept her eyes focused on his. Hange felt her heart pulsating in her chest. He looked into her rich hazel eyes again. He swore he fell in love with her in that instant.

#aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #levihan fic #levihan oneshot #levi x hange #levi x hanji #rivahan #fluff overload

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piccolini-cuscino · 4 years

Text

Getting to the truth.

You’re Bruce’s assistant, but more than that, you’re his friend – his only friend. So, naturally, when he arrives at his own party injured and looking worse for wear, you’re worried. But there’s more than one truth-bomb in store for you!

Note: I had no idea how to finish this one, so it’s a bit garbage (you have no idea how much I wanted to change it up and have it basically be the fic version of Secretary, but alas, this is boring and smut free), but I’m so here for an emo millennial Bruce Wayne and a lil but of humour with my angst.

“Why am I organising a ball for all of Gotham, when Bruce won’t show up?” you sighed, turning to Alfred.

“Listen, I’m just the butler. How am I supposed to know what Master Bruce gets up to at night?”

“You live here, Alfred.”

Alfred leaned in close, peering at you from above his round spectacles. “And you’re his very beloved assistant.”

“Don’t remind me,” you huffed. “They’re only showing up for him, you know. They don’t care about the Wayne Foundation. Orphanages and education. He’s the richest man in Gotham, and no one’s seen him in years. The press would kill for a glimpse too.”

Alfred was fond of you. He always had been. He reckoned you brought a little bit of light to the place the second you walked into Wayne manor, fresh out of college. So, you knew his words were sincere when he spoke, with a gentle pat on the arm. “Well I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”

“Good enough for me,” you said, turning towards the door. “I’m going home to get ready. There’s a new Dior suit hanging in the wardrobe. Tell the boss to wear it, will you? And remind him to tuck his shirt in. That’s if he decides to show up.”

It was a night of your own making, and you watched it unfold from the lobby. Checking off names. Stopping drunken high society snobs from vomiting into 17th century vases. Directing everyone and their dog towards the bathrooms. But, for the most part, you found yourself alone, dancing with yourself in the cracks of pale moonlight that streamed like silver ribbons on to the sparkling checkerboard floor. No sign of your boss.

Until something caught you off guard. Quiet, shuffling footsteps over by the study at the foot of the staircase. A dark figure emerged from the shadows, hobbling, ascending. Step by step.

“Hey! You can’t go up there!” you called.

The figure moved faster, breaking into a pained jog.

With nothing else to do, you threw off your heels and sprinted after the intruder. Taking the stairs two at a time. They were heading for Bruce’s bedroom. No one, not even the various women he liked to entertain – not even you, as close as you were – went in there. He was a tremendously private man.

Finally, reaching out, you managed to grab their arm.

The figure flinched away in pain, then they turned to you.

“Bruce?” you gasped, feeling your heart race at the sight of him. His dark hair, unkempt and dishevelled; jet black rings around his eyes. His whole body seemed to tremble and heave. “What happened to you?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. Then he broke out into a witter. “Go back downstairs, I’ll be there in a minute, I’d hate to miss out on all of your hard work. I just need to–”

But you pulled him back, swiping your thumbs through the muck beneath his eyes. They were blue, but they always looked so dark. Like a pained void. “You need to clean yourself up. Let me help you.”

“You don’t need to see me like this. Go and enjoy your evening. I’m speaking to you as your boss. Please. Go.”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne.” You straightened up at his words and turned away. But before you reached the stairs, he called your name. If looks could kill, Bruce might have been a heap on the floor. But those eyes, again, dulled any hurt you felt about the distance between you.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

You couldn’t look him in the eye. It was a battle even just to thank him politely for the compliment. And your legs shook all the way back to the lobby, through a strange mix of worry and giddiness.

You kept yourself to yourself for twenty minutes, alone with your panic, before Bruce returned. Gone was the darkness around his eyes, and his hair was neatly slicked back. He cut a strong, proud figure as he walked towards you in his suit. Even if he was sporting a limp and clutching his side with every step.

“I thought I told you to enjoy the party?” he smiled.

“Sorry, Bruce. There’s just no one to watch the door and show people where the…” You trailed off as he gently took your arm, leading you through into the reception hall. A warmth radiated from him, soothing but stoic. Nothing like the frantic panic from before.

“Help me get through this,” he muttered as the room fell silent. All eyes on you and Bruce.

The party quickly resumed; music played and the chatter of the guests around you echoed through the hall. Occasionally, beneficiaries of the Wayne Foundation would introduce themselves to your boss, or business bigwigs would try to bend his ear about trade deals and contracts and bureaucracy. But one thing was constant throughout the whole ordeal – Bruce’s hand never once left its place on your waist.

You could feel it there. The way his fingers would trail through the material of your dress as people talked and talked and talked to him. And the tension, when he balled his fingers up into a fist when faced with people that he just didn’t have time for. All those little cues forced the question from your lips. “Would you like to dance?”

You knew he didn’t dance. He hated it, in fact. But in that moment, the gratitude was evident on his small, weak smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Something was wrong, though. He flinched when your hand draped over his shoulder. His gait was unsteady. And no amount of makeup could disguise the bruise underneath his left eye. You kept glancing up at it as the two of you daintily spun circles around the room. And he kept glancing down at you, knowing now that you had noticed.

The song ended and Bruce’s hands dropped to his sides. “I think I’ve had enough for one night,” he said with another defeated smile. “People might begin to talk.”

“I think we need to talk, Bruce.”

His eyes darted over his surroundings before they returned to you; his lower lip pinched between his teeth.

“Please,” you pressed.

“Come with me.”

You and Bruce slumped into two cosy armchairs in his study, with a roaring fire, a coffee table and two glasses of scotch between you. “Don’t think Alfred and I haven’t noticed you sneaking off all the time.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and stared at the flames. “I’m your boss, remember?”

“You’re also my friend. And you also looked like crap earlier. Who did that to you?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, shifting in his chair, letting out an audible groan.

“They obviously hurt you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“No you can’t. I think me being here says that much. C’mere,” you said, beckoning him.

“When you’re right you’re right.” Bruce might have been your boss, but he still knew better than to defy you; he slumped to his knees and shuffled over to you.

“Let me take a look at the damage.”

For the second time that night, Bruce recoiled from your touch as you gently pulled up his shirt, exposing a galaxy of bruises along his ribcage and a large, makeshift dressing on his lower abdomen. “Easy,” he said, swatting your hand away.

“How did you get that?” You peeled it away from his skin as gingerly as you could manage. Rather than concern, your voice grew cold. Serious, even. “What have you been doing?”

“I’m a little disappointed,” Bruce remarked through gritted teeth.

“How so?” you asked, running your fingertips over the slap-dash stitches that held together the vivid red gash.

“I thought this was something else.”

“Something’s eating you, though. And who did these stitches?”

“I did,” Bruce said, his jaw clenched.

“Can I redo them?”

Bruce was growing breathless by the time you finished inspecting his wound. “First aid kit’s in the top drawer of my desk,” he wheezed.

“Rubbing alcohol, too?”

“It’s all there.” Bruce wearily watched from the floor as your pale outline trailed its way across the study. His heart growing faster. “You really do look beautiful,” he said, his voice quiet and spiked with hope. He couldn’t meet your eyes when you looked up from rummaging in the drawer, so he stared down at the rug, finding interest there instead, with one hand clawing through his hair. “What was it that you wanted to ask me, by the way?”

“I really don’t like repeating myself, so cut the bullshit, Bruce.” You were so matter of fact, breezing back over to him and joining him on the floor. “I wanted to know where you go at night.”

“If I told you the truth, then you’d have me shipped off to Arkham.”

You poured some of the alcohol on to a cotton swab, keeping your eyes on Bruce. There was always something so defeated about him when the two of you were alone, that no one else ever got to see. And something always got in the way of him being honest with you. “Want to bet on that? How do you know I’m not already considering it?”

Bruce almost chuckled, but the sting from his side made him draw a sharp breath. He studied you out the corner of his eye. “Do you really… want to know?”

“It’d be nice to not have to spend my evenings with Alfred, who worries like a mother hen.”

Bruce choked out his next string of words in quick succession. “Can I tell you something first?”

“Before I cut you open?” you quipped.

“Preferably.”

Before Bruce reached the end of that word, you had already snipped through his self-administered stitches, revealing just how deep the wound actually was. Your feeble attempt at being jovial quickly switched to a reserved kind of worry.

“You’re the first person who’s ever really understood me. You never pry or say too much. You’re always there. And you have such a low tolerance for bullshit. You don’t coddle or bow down because I’m Bruce Wayne. Plus it’s nice to be around someone who isn’t in their sixties or who knew my father…”

You hummed in acknowledgement, neatly weaving the wire through Bruce’s skin. Too focused on the job at hand to really get what he meant. Until his fingertips brushed over your jawline.

“You’re my only friend in this godforsaken world.”

“Besides Alfred,” the pair of you said in unison.

Biting back a fit of laughter, you stroked his cheek and he keened, like an animal craving affection. “What are you trying to say, Bruce?”

Every fibre of Bruce’s being tensed with renewed panic and a tinge of awkwardness. His wide eyes searched for something, anything, to focus on, as long as it wasn’t you. “I’m…I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I’m–“

With a mental fuck it, you threw caution to the wind. You couldn’t stand hearing him bumble on like this. Closing the gap, your lips crashed on to his. He tasted like scotch and cigars, and this much of him was never going to be enough for you. Just when your hands tangled through his hair, Bruce pulled away.

“I’m the Batman.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Bruce nodded.

“I would’ve settled for ‘I’m in love with you’ you know.”

He sighed, sitting back so casually now that the difficult part was over. “That, too.”

“You can’t lie to me anymore, you know that, don’t you?”

He nodded again.

“So,” you said, glancing around the study, “which bookcase is actually a revolving door?”

“Huh?” Bruce asked, pulling down his shirt.

“Secret lair… a bat cave, if you will.”

“Oh,” he said with a chuckle. Then he pointed towards the bookcase behind you. “It’s that one. Pull out Ulysses and it’ll… spin right round. Be careful not to let the bats out, though. They’re kind of like my pets.”

“Fuck you, Bruce.”

“I can show you if you want?” he said, hopefully, as he scrambled to his feet.

“I’ll settle for another kiss. And you getting some rest.”

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“What, the bat part or the other part?”

Bruce chuckled and planted a small, soft kiss to your forehead. “Both.”

“I had my suspicions. One thing’s for sure though…”

“What?”

“You might need a few pointers with your eyeliner.”

#bruce wayne x reader #battinson #robert pattinson #bruce wayne #the batman

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i-am-dead-inside-666 · 3 years

Text

Apologies

Steve/Tony(+Bucky)

Summary: Steve and Tony make up and a cute stuckony moment. Wow that’s a crap summary.

Warnings: some angst I guess but mostly fluff. Bad language.

Please don’t post this on other platforms without my permission. Thanks 😊

Nobody cared. Tony knew that, he'd been hiding in his lab for six days now, not coming up for showers or to sleep, barely eating. The only regular schedule he kept to was the hourly coffee renewal. Cold coffee reminded him too much of lazy mornings with.. Steve... soft cuddles and whispered nothings, mugs forgotten on their side tables.

He hadn't seen another human in over a week. He'd passed out in the lab several times, from lack of food and drink, or just pure sleep-deprivation, he didn't know.

Nobody had been to check on him, because that had always been Steve.

He'd always been there to pick him up, striding into his lab with confidence that only Captain America could hold. Sweeping Tony's exhausted body against his chest, he'd carry him up to their bedroom, where he'd hold him tightly in his arms until Tony felt a little bit less broken than before.

But Steve wasn't there anymore, no one was.

So he huddled in the tiny gap under his desk, his stomach twisted into so many knots that he could barely breath. His hands pulling at his hair, as though they had a mind of their own, his nails clawing painfully at his scalp.

His chest was hurting so badly, and he wasn't sure whether it was from where Steve had slammed his shield through the arc reactor, or the fact that it was Steve that slammed his shield through the arc reactor.

He loved Steve so much, and the pain at him abandoning him, like everybody else in his life, it made him feel completely worthless.

A low whirring noise dragged him from his thoughts, forcing himself to relax his hands, he loosened the grip he had on his hair and looked up. Through teary eyes, he watched as Dum-E nudged his chair out of the way and rolled closer to him.

"hey Dum-E." Tony managed to whisper, a small smile stretching his cracked lips. The robot cocked his claw, almost like someone would do when they were confused, then he pushed forwards until Tony reluctantly lifted his arm up and let the robot nuzzle against his side.

"...I know.. I miss him too." His trembling voice was barely heard audible over the blaring music that he was definitely not using to try and drown out his self-destructive thoughts.

Squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to stop anymore tears from escaping, he twisted his fingers back into his hair and tucked his head back between his knees.

————————————————————

"I don't want to be here long, I'm just grabbing some stuff." Steve muttered, more to himself than to Bucky as he hurriedly grabbed clothes from the wardrobe he and Tony used to share.

"Yeah whatever punk." Bucky answered, absentmindedly glancing around the room. His gaze settled on the neatly made double bed, too neat. His brow furrowed and he stepped forward, Steve was too busy rummaging through something to notice him.

He let his metal fingers trail lightly over the bed covers, concerned at the layer of dust that had accumulated there. There were two bedside tables, one on each side of the bed, in various states of disarray.

The one on the opposite side of the bed must have been Steve's, as he could see several half finished drawings scattered by the base of the lamp.

However it was the one nearest to him that drew his attention, it was much much messier than Steve's. There were several coffee stains on the surface, and Bucky couldn't help but roll his eyes, coffee was apparently the only thing the genius ever drank.

He was vaguely aware of the other objects cluttering the table, but his gaze was fixed on the nondescript flip phone, placed with almost inhuman precision so that it lined up perfectly with the frame of a picture.

The frame was facedown on the side table so that the picture it contained couldn't be seen. Glancing over his shoulder to check what Steve was doing, he had practically climbed half way inside the wardrobe, making Bucky grin despite himself.

Turning back to the bedside table, he ever so gently lifted the frame up, gasping softly at the beautiful scene captured behind the glass.

Steve and Tony, both in perfectly tailored suits, posed for the camera, the former holding the latter bridal style with ease. Bucky's heart fluttered at the dopey smile on Steve's face as Tony planted a firm kiss on his cheek.

Both of them had their left hands thrust towards the camera and Bucky's breath caught in his throat, matching silver bands glinted on their fourth fingers. Steve never told him he and Tony were actually married.

Confetti rained around the happy couple, a mix of red, blue and gold, celebrating the colours of the two superheroes. The confetti was suspended in the air around the two, reminding Bucky that that's what this was, a special moment from the past, from a happier time.

His ears pricked suddenly, detecting the slight increase in Steve's breathing, decades of living as the Winter Soldier had given him unparalleled senses.

He turned, the frame still clutched tightly in his new metal arm that had been anonymously delivered to him and Steve's hideout. The moment Steve had opened the package, he'd burst into tears and refused to leave his room for three hours. Yet he still insisted that Bucky use the arm, even if his smile strained slightly every time he set eyes on it.

Steve's face was almost as pale as Bucky remember it from the 40s, coupled with his wide eyed stare and trembling hands, he could almost believe they were the same person.

"I'm sorry I- I was just- looking." He anxiously tried to explain, gesturing half heartedly towards the messy side table.

The blonde blinked slowly, as if pulling himself from the depths of a dream, "It's.... fine." He waved away Bucky's poor attempt at an explanation, trying to hide the way his voice cracked.

"No it isn't." Bucky replied in a much more measured tone, gauging his friends reaction. Steve's jaw went from slack to so tight that Bucky was afraid he heard his teeth crack.

"Everything is fine." He ground out, stiffly turning back to his suitcase and aggressively beginning to stuff everything he'd pulled out of the wardrobe into it.

"You didn't tell me you guys were married."

The only response he got was a shrug and a murmur he could barely make out. "wasn't important."

Bucky sighed, gently placing the picture back down, upright this time. He made his way to the end of the bed and perched there, softly tugging on Steve's shoulder until he huffed and joined him, falling heavily onto the bed.

Back in the tower, back in this room, back on this bed, all the memories Steve had been suppressing came rushing back to the front of his mind. Almost without thinking, he leant his head down to rest on Bucky's shoulder.

He couldn't help but miss the feel of Tony's, softer and lower, Buck's were.... harder, tough cords of muscles beneath his shirt. Both were comforting and familiar, but he couldn't have both... could he?

The former Winter Soldier was momentarily taken aback by the sudden contact, and he stiffened. He couldn't help it, seventy years of being conditioned to fear human touch.

A pang of guilt shot through him, as he could tell he'd managed to make Steve feel worse because as soon as he realised he'd tensed up, Steve had bolted upright, like a child caught doing something wrong.

Quickly wiping his tears from his cheeks, he mumbled, "M'sorry, I shouldn't have brought you here Buck, we can leave.. I'll send Nat to grab my stuff later."

Knowing he'd crossed some sort of line, Bucky simply nodded, watching from the bed as Steve returned to rooting through the chest of drawers.

Finally, curiosity got the best of him, "Watcha looking for now?"

"My dog tags." Steve muttered, slamming his fist on to the drawers, wincing at the audible crunch. "I- I gave them to Tony." He swallowed thickly, "But they aren't here."

"Where else could they be? The kitchen? The-"

"Lab!" Steve exclaimed, finishing Bucky's sentence for him. "Fuck." He swore, clenching his fists tightly to stop himself from punching something, anything.

"Then go get 'em." Bucky prompted, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Steve's jaw practically fell open.

"Wh-what?!" He spluttered, "You- want me- to go up to my husband who I left and- and- say hey, uh- yeah, sorry to intrude, but you know that really important meaningful thing I gave you- yeah- I want them back." Steve raised his voice to a dramatically high pitch, earning another low sigh from his exasperated boyfriend/friend whatever they were.

"Do you love him?" Steve's eyes practically fell out of his head at the question, shifting slightly on the bed Bucky continued, "Lemme rephrase, do you love him more than you love me?"

"I- what?!"

"I see the way you look at him. You.. you don't look at me like that." He continued, wincing as Steve's features contorted in pain.

"Buck I-"

The brunet stood up so that the two were eye level, even that jarred Steve for a moment, his words dying in his throat, he was so used to looking down....

"-don't feel bad," Steve frowned, forcing himself to stop thinking about Tony, to focus on Bucky's next words.

"I- I've been wanting to talk to you about this anyway.." Bucky trailed off, thinking about how to phrase his next sentence, "I know we used to talk about us back in the forties, and- it really is a dream come true that we got a chance to figure- this-" he gestured between them, "out, but- you aren't- you aren't happy with me.."

Glancing sadly back at the photo, he couldn't help the low sigh that left his lips, "You love Stark- Tony." He corrected himself.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Steve pressed his palms against his temples. "You're right!" He yelled, "But you're also wrong! So fucking wrong!"

The vein in his jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth, alerting Bucky to just how annoyed he was. "I'm... wrong?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes I love Tony! But I also love you! And- and- I can't choose!"

"Well maybe you don't have to.." Bucky thought out loud, Steve's gaze snapped towards him.

"What?"

Bucky shook his head, "Nothing, it doesn't matter, just- go talk to him you punk."

A bittersweet smile creep crept up Steve's face, "Shut up jerk." He retorted, making his way to the door, he paused for a moment in the doorway, hesitating. Impatiently, Bucky waved him away, ignoring Steve as he rolled his eyes.

Thoughts raced through Steve's head at a million miles an hour as he walked down the hall, what if Tony didn't want to see him, what if he was mad at him, hell, if Steve were him he'd be mad at himself-

He was at the doors to the lab way before he was prepared, he could already hear Tony's music through the doors.

Steve didn't realise his fists were clenched until he forced himself to relax, exhaling sharply as he examined the crescent shaped indents in his palms.

Taking a shaky breath to steady himself, he cast his eyes towards the ceiling, an old habit that he could never shake. "Ja- Friday? Could- um- could you let me in please?"

"I'm sorry Captain Rogers, Mr Stark has removed you from the system. I am unable to grant you access to the lab."

Steve's frown deepened, what could he do now? Break the door down?

Friday's smooth voice interrupted his internal monologue, "Although, if the door to the lab was accidentally left unlocked, technically I wouldn't be allowing you access."

A small grin lit Steve's face up, "I knew I liked you." He chuckled under his breath, tugging on the door which slid open with ease.

"Tony? Are you here?" Steve asked hesitantly, as he stepped into the room, his words nearly inaudible over the music.

His gaze swept over the empty room, he waited a moment before moving towards the bombsight of a desk opposite him. He subconsciously kept his footsteps light, a habit he'd picked up trying not to wake Tony if he'd fallen asleep in the lab.

He reached the desk, glancing over the papers scattered across it, he paused as he recognised the blueprints for Bucky's new arm.

Tearing his eyes away, he was almost ready to pack it in and leave, but as he turned, his enhanced eyesight caught the sliver of steam rising from the coffee mug.

The line between his brows deepened and he let his knuckles drag across the porcelain, nearly hissing at the heat. Since when did Tony drink his coffee that hot?

Then it hit him. Hot coffee, Tony must still be here, he wouldn't have been able to sneak past Steve. A low sigh slipped through his lips, he knew exactly where Tony was.

Rounding the desk, he gently pushed the chair to the side, crouching down to peer into the foot space beneath the desk.

What he saw made his heart shatter and his eyes well with tears. Sure he'd seen tony like this before, huddled beneath his desk, shaking, crying, pulling his hair hard enough to keep him grounded.. and every time he saw him like that, his chest ached, but this time, this time he knew that he had caused this, Tony was in pain because of him, and that hurt.

Tony's grip on his dark locks loosened, and he turned towards the sound of Steve's voice, his watery eyes widened, "Steve?"

Hearing Tony's broken voice was the last straw and the tears he'd previously managed to hold back fell from Steve's baby blue eyes, spilling down his pale cheeks.

"You're not real." Tony finally mumbled, pressing his palms over his eyes and shaking his head. Steve barely heard his whisper, but he did, and his hand tightened, his fingers pressing dents into the desk where he gripped it.

"Friday. Pause the music." He growled, anger at himself seeping into his tone. Tony looked up at the sudden silence, his stare blank as he seemed to look straight through Steve.

His gaze sharpened suddenly, bloodshot eyes meeting Steve's with such intensity that the super soldier nearly flinched. "I know you're not real!" He snapped, "Now get out of my head."

Tony waved his hand in dismissal, mere centimetres from Steve's nose. He made an attempt to crawl out from under the desk, nearly tripping over Dum-E. Steve quickly moved backwards out of his way, watching Tony as he stood up and attempted to straighten his clothes.

The brunet refused to look in Steve's direction, he simply offered a small smile to Dum-E. Steve jumped up as Tony turned to walk towards a separate bench, picking up a small and hunching forward over a delicate piece of machinery.

"Tony- please.. I really am here." Steve tried again, desperation creeping into his voice. Tony hesitated, sure, he'd hallucinated seeing Steve before, but never like this, it never hurt as much as this.

He turned slowly, screwdriver still clutched tightly in his fist, his fingernails pressing deep enough into his palms to draw blood as he cautiously stepped towards his husband.

He was on edge, waiting for this hallucination of Steve to turn on him, slam his shield into his chest, say something horribly hurtful and horribly true or simply wait until he could almost touch him, and then vanish.

Steve's eyes flicked between the sharp object Tony was gripping like a lifeline, and his face, so full of pain and hurt that Steve's stomach twisted with guilt. Not wanting to scare the skittish engineer, he froze.

Tony bit his lip as he edged nearer, taking in Steve's rigid posture, neither of them even dared to breath.

The hand that wasn't gripping his screwdriver moved, almost subconsciously towards Steve's face, trembling as his fingers followed the sharp line of his jaw. A frown creased his brows at the rough stubble there, the screwdriver slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor, although neither of them acknowledged it.

"You're really here?" He asked, uncertainty making his voice waver slightly. Steve nodded slowly, searching Tony's deep brown eyes for any hint of forgiveness or understanding, "I'm here Tones."

"Don't. Call. Me. That." Tony hissed, withdrawing his hand suddenly. He tore his eyes from Steve's, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I don't care if you're really here! Get the fuck out of my lab!"

"Tony-" Steve corrected himself, "Don't push me away- I swear I feel so bad about- about Siberia-" he cringed as soon as the word left his mouth, leaving a bitter taste in its wake.

Shivers shook Tony's body, spreading out from between his shoulder blades as every single memory he'd been struggling to repress came flooding back.

His parents. He was looking at his parents, after so long, he'd nearly forgotten what they looked like, how beautiful his mum was.

He knew what was coming, but he couldn't help but flinch as the car careened off the road, smashing into a tree.

He watched, barely breathing as The Winter Soldier ripped his life apart. Hatred burned like acid in his stomach, but not towards Bucky, not even towards The Winter Soldier, but towards himself.

For nearly thirty years, he'd hated his father, hated him for every time he was 'too busy' to spend time with him.

Hated him for every time he compared him to Steve.

Hated him for drinking that little bit too much and slapping him around.

But all that blame for his mother's death, was completely misplaced. Tony's heart ached as he recalled his fathers last words from the video.

"Maria- my wife- please help my wife..... Sergeant Barnes?"

"-ny- breathe- come on- follow my breathing." Steve's voice cut through Tony's panic and he realised that he could feel the steady thrum of a heartbeat beneath his fingers.

Biting back sobs, Steve pulled Tony's body against his chest, moving slightly so that Tony's head could rest against his broad shoulder.

"Come on Tony, I'm sorry- you're in the lab with me. Remember. Follow my breathing." The feel of Steve's warm, familiar shape wrapped around him comforted Tony as he struggled to control his erratic heart and heavy breathing.

"I'm sorry- please don't leave me- stay please- I don't wanna.. don't wanna be alone-" Tony mumbled, eyes still unfocused and slightly glazed.

"No- I'm sorry Tony. I- I screwed up big time." Slowly, Tony's breathing evened, but he let quiet, listening to Steve's explanation.

"Me and Buck weren't exactly accepted in the 40s. So we stopped ourselves, pretended we didn't have feelings for each other. And then I went into the ice and I thought I'd never see him again."

He sighed heavily, subconsciously running his hand down Tony's side, "I really love you baby, I swear I thought I'd completely moved on. But then he came back." Steve's face twisted into a grimace, "And all those old feelings came flooding back- an' I couldn't lose him again-"

His voice broke at the end, and he dropped his head into the crook of Tony's neck, his shoulders shaking.

"I'm sorry." He cried, tears soaking through Tony's T-shirt. Blinking back his own tears, Tony carefully extricated himself from Steve's tight embrace. He didn't pull away entirely though, simply twisted himself in Steve's lap until they were facing.

He carefully cupped Steve's jaw, tilting the soldiers face so that their equally teary eyes met. His thumb rubbed small circles over the rough stubble as he contemplated his next words.

"I understand why you did it.... which makes it even harder I guess, 'cause I know I'd do the same for Rhodey." Tony sighed, "I can't forget about this, not yet... it still hurts too much." He rubbed at his chest slightly, his gaze softening when Steve's face fell.

"But I can forgive you." He finished, blue eyes meeting brown as though they were seeing each other properly for the first time.

Steve was rendered breathless for the second time in less than half an hour, as Tony's hand snaked round the back of his head, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Neither of them moved for several long, tense moments, they simply stared into one another's eyes, mapping their faces out in their minds as they recalled every reason why they fell in love in the first place.

Then Steve moved, leaning forward to capture Tony's lips in a slow and cautious kiss, his large hands sliding up Tony's side, rucking his shirt up and tugging him closer to his chest.

Relaxing into Steve's arms, Tony's eyes slid shut and he melted into the familiar feeling of Steve's lips against his own. He smiled into the kiss as Steve's tongue swept along his bottom lip, easily working its way into his mouth and pushing between his teeth.

They kissed until they ran out of oxygen, breathing heavily and in sync as they pulled away.

Tony tilted his head forward so that his forehead rested against Steve's, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath.

"I missed you." He confessed, peering through his lashes at Steve, "And I'm sorry for screaming."

The blonde chuckled softly, "I did deserve it." His face turned serious again, "I am sorry, Tony."

Just as a smug grin crept up his face, Tony chose that exact moment... to faint.

Panic gripped Steve's chest for a moment as the brunette slumped against his chest, then he heard Tony's stomach grumble loudly, and felt the ribs poking through his shirt.

"Oh Tony." He sighed, rolling his eyes as he easily scooped the shorter man into his arms and striding out of the lab.

"Wh-" Tony's sleepy mumble made a smile tug at the corner of Steve's lips, even as he had to tighten his grip when Tony attempted to wriggle out of his arms.

"M'fine- gerrof!" He growled, pushing against Steve's broad chest, "S'fine you apologised, you can go now- put me down!"

So Steve did, dropping Tony onto one of the kitchen stools so that he was sat at the island, facing Steve as he started pulling ingredients out of the cupboards.

"What are you doing?" Tony groaned, placing his chin in his hand to stare at Steve.

Steve ignored the question, asking one of his own, "When was the last time you ate?" Glancing over his shoulder, he sighed in exasperation as Tony shrugged, mumbling an off handed, "I dunno."

"Jeez Tones, have you thrown all my food away? He complained, throwing his arms up in annoyance.

Tony shrugged again, "I don't like your rabbit food." He fastened his gaze on the floor, "And it reminded me too much of you."

Steve tensed at Tony's mumbled statement, turning around to stare at him as he continued, "Didn't know if you'd be coming back anyway."

"Tony-"

The brunet sighed, "Don't, I told you, I get it." He muttered, half way off of the stool before a large hand landed on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

"Sit. Down." Steve snarled, "We are not discussing this now. I am making you some healthy, nutritious food. Then you are going to brush your teeth, get in the shower and go the fuck to sleep. Cause no offence but you look like shit."

Tony rolled his eyes but remained seated, brushing Steve's hand off his shoulder, "Language." He mocked, trying to lighten the mood.

A low chuckle left Steve's throat, and he moved back towards the stove, cracking several eggs into a bowl and beginning to whisk them.

Tony stifled his own giggle, glancing around the kitchen as his stomach growled again, his eyes drifted over the door and he stiffened.

Watching Tony's eyes widen in fear, Bucky felt guilt settle on his shoulders. He edged his way out of the doorway, avoiding eye contact with Tony as he cleared his throat quietly.

Steve whipped round at the noise, "Uh- Buck- I.. we were just..." he gave up when he saw Tony's judgemental stare from the corner of his eye, he gestured awkwardly at the omelette, "Food."

"Right, do you want me to go? Natasha sent the quinjet over." Tony's face crumpled at the mention of the red headed spy's name, remembering the sharp sting of betrayal that stabbed his chest every time he thought of her.

Steve glanced worriedly at Tony, "Ah- no. It's fine," he slid a plate across the island and Tony frowned in disgust, trying to ignore the super soldiers presence somewhere behind him.

"Steve- it's green." He pointed out, prodding it suspiciously with his fork. Steve rolled his eyes, dropping into the seat opposite Tony, "It's got spinach in it you baby, just eat it."

"Keep rolling your eyes and you might find a brain somewhere back there."

"Shut up. Not all of us are geniuses ya know," Steve shot back, his Boston accent creeping into his voice.

"Evidently." Tony snarked, stabbing his omelette again. "Oh for fuck sake!" Steve cursed, trying to hide his grin as he yanked the plate towards him and snatched the fork out of Tony's hand.

Bucky smiled at how quickly the two of them fell into what he assumed were old habits, trading sarcastic comments like sweets at Halloween.

"I don't need you to cut my food up. I'm not a baby Steve. And watch your language."

Steve frowned, shoving the plate back towards Tony with his omelette now in bite sized pieces. Tony pulled another disgusted face, but grudgingly started eating anyway.

"Buck do you want one?" Steve asked, standing up and grabbing a couple more eggs, they were large ones, but still sat easily in the palm of his hand.

Bucky hesitated, decisions had always been difficult for him after... hydra, but this one was the worst he'd ever faced.

Sure Steve, why wouldn't I wanna sit down to a nice meal with you and your husband, oh yeah, your husband, you know the guy you cheated on with me and then left half beaten to death in a freezing bunker. Could this get any more awkward?!

"Um-" he hummed, silently hoping that someone would make the decision for him. Steve smiled tightly, noticing Bucky's discomfort, he pointed at the seat next to Tony, "Sit down, I'll make you one.

Apparently it can get more awkward! Why, why would you sit me next to him, it's not like we tried to kill each other like a week ago. Bucky felt like face palming, was Steve really an oblivious asshole or was he actively trying to start a fight.

He cautiously moved towards the stool that Steve had gestured at, trying to ignore the way Stark shifted away from him, shoulders tensed.

Measuring his breathing helped calm him slightly, in, out, in, out, four even breaths later and he was sliding into the seat next to Tony.

They sat together in silence whilst Steve finished cooking another omelette, sliding it onto a plate and across the island.

"Eat up ba-" Steve blushed, cutting himself off as Tony's grip tightened around his fork, the metal grinding against the porcelain of the plate. "-ucky. Bucky." He tried to save himself, his face redder than a beetroot.

A loud yawn broke the silence that followed, and both Steve and Bucky turned to stare at the sleepy engineer. When he noticed their stares, he shot them both a cold glare, "What? I'm tired ok." He snapped.

Steve grinned, "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Stop treating me like a baby Steve. I can take care of myself." The blonds eyebrow quirked at Tony's statement.

"Really? When was the last time you actually slept in your bed?" Tony flushed, "You used to pass out in the lab, quite often if I remember correctly."

"Is this your long winded way of getting me into bed? Cause I hate to tell you, but you might wanna up the romance a bit." Tony sassed, sliding off his stool and stumbling towards the door.

Steve laughed, "Gimme a sec while I put this stuff away." He scooped the eggshells off the side of the counter and moved to put them in the bin. Whilst he was busy cleaning up, Tony continued to stagger away from them.

He'd barely made it three steps before his knees buckled and the ground rushed towards his face.

Suddenly, strong arms were wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides, caging him into a broad chest. Tony gasped softly, his nose inches from the floor, "Thanks babe." He mumbled, twisting in the tight grip so that he could look up at- BUCKY?

Tony felt heat rise up his face, "Uh- I thought you were Steve?" He squeaked, sounding more like a question than a statement, he smiled weakly as he met Bucky's deep brown eyes.

"Hmm, you're cute when you blush." Bucky muttered without thinking, staring down at the small man trapped between his body and the floor.

"Um- do you two want me to leave? Give you some privacy?" Steve cut in, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

Bucky jumped as though he'd forgotten Steve was in the room, he glanced over his shoulder, ignoring Tony as he wriggled between his arms.

"Um sorry that bambi here hasn't figured out how to walk properly yet." He stated, a teasing edge to his words, before Tony could even blink, he was cradled like a baby into Bucky's chest.

There was an arm hooked beneath his knees, and another on lower back which held him steady, the metal cool against his hot skin, even through the material of his shirt.

Tony could hear Steve's heavy footsteps follow them as he was carried into the bedroom and dropped unceremoniously onto the bed. He bounced onto the soft mattress, a low uff pushing past his lips at the shock. Bucky couldn't help but grin, pushing a stray hair out of the billionaires face and tucking it behind his ear.

Steve smiled softly at the two of them, pulling the corner of the duvet back so that Tony could snuggle beneath it.

Without thinking, he leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Lingering for several moments, he eventually pulled away, opening his mouth to ask Bucky whether he was ready to go, when a hand circled his wrist.

Tony blinked up at him sleepily, "Please stay." He whispered, tugging the super soldier back towards the bed.

Steve shot a wary glance at Bucky, who was laughing silently at the confusion on Steve's face. "It's fine jerk, I'll go meet 'tasha on the quinjet."

"Nah uh." Tony's childish pout was directed at Bucky, making the assassins heart melt at the pleading looks in his doe brown eyes and sulkily stuck out lip.

"You... want me to stay?" He hesitated, surely this was overstepping at least 100 boundaries.

"Please." Tony whined, his eyes seeming to get wider and cuter the longer they were fixed in Bucky's.

Steve chuckled, "Oh dear, you've made the mistake of looking into his puppy dog eyes. He knows they get me every time." Bucky finally managed to tear his eyes away from Tony's, to realise that Steve had stripped into his boxers and was sliding in to the bed next to Tony.

The two stared at him expectantly and he shuffled, rubbing the hairs at the back of his neck, "I dunno, is there even enough room in the bed? I-"

"I'm not going to sleep until you join us." Tony sulked, folding his arms across his chest.

Bucky sighed dramatically, his hands awkwardly fumbling as he yanked his hoodie over his head along with his T-shirt. He opted to leave his sweatpants on, and slowly edged under the covers.

The bed was plenty big enough for all three of them, with enough room for Bucky and Steve to be able to comfortably stretch out. Tony sighed in satisfaction, nuzzling his head int Bucky's chest as Steve curled around him.

Cautiously, Bucky brought his metal hand up from where it rested against the covers, he loved his new arm and he made a mental note to thank Tony for it tomorrow. He'd been working especially hard on learning to control his strength.

Now wanting to scare Tony or himself, he moved at the pace of a snail to rest his fingers in the engineers thick locks. Amazingly, he could actually feel the hair against his hand, and ever so gentle, he began to play with the soft brown hair, smiling at the content hum it earned him.

Bucky stayed awake for much longer than both Steve and Tony, the latter passing out minutes after Bucky had started playing with his hair. Steve took longer to fall asleep, but as Bucky lay perfectly still, he listened to the blonds breathing get slower and steadier.

Looking down at the two men cuddled up next to him, he couldn't help the warm feeling of hope that spread through his chest. A small smile curling his lips, he let the soft exhales of his friends lull him to sleep.

#Steve Rogers #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes #Steve/Tony #superhusbands #stuckony #stucky #CACW

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