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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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Mon 7 June ‘21

Liam’s podcast with Steve Bartlett is out and while I still don’t care about that guy I’ll give him this-- he does great at getting out of the way and letting Liam talk. And boy does Liam talk! Liam says A LOT and let’s all just pause to send him some big hugs before we get into right? And then look to the future- Liam’s routine is to say ‘things have been terrible but it’s fine, it’s fine NOW’, always, even when that is absolutely obviously not true, and today is no different but for once I actually believe some of his hopeful bits too which is so great! I hope things really are shifting for him and I can’t wait to hear this new song of his. But there’s a lot that’s hard to hear too, oh Liam. He said that he and Maya have broken up (so yes, presumably why he just moved again such a short time after they moved into their haunted house), talked about his struggles with his alcoholism (and said he’s been sober for a month right now, go babe!), shared the usual distressing stories about his time in the band and what that was like for him (and how it still impacts him), and he talked about his new song and how it feels different for him than his past solo music. Truly though there is SO MUCH more than I can get into here or then you can get from the UA highlights- I HIGHLY recommend actually watching at least parts of the video, also because the attempt to summarize so much erases all the charm and humor, of which there is much. If you don’t think you want to watch Liam’s interviews, it has to be because you aren’t watching Liam’s interviews, they’re delightful! Plus really if you care about 1D and want information about what it was like for any of them, listen to Liam, he’s the one who’s out there talking about it.

About Maya he said, that yes, he is now single, and “I’ve just been not been very good at relationships,” and “I’m a proper perfectionist… at the start of the relationship you put out this complete false character like I might as well go in in costume, I’m like putting out something that is not there... kind of like encompassing someone else’s life with your crap rather than just doing your thing and laying out your store from day one. That’s my biggest problem is that I feel like I don’t lay out my store... and then I’m annoyed when they don’t like what I like,” and “I think my problem is I struggle to be on my own sometimes... I dive in and out of relationships too quickly. I’ve not spent enough time on my own to relearn about myself.”

He laughs about his tendency to ask his manager things during interviews; “My fans think that Steve is doing something to me, they’re like liberty for Liam because he always looks to Steve, but that’s because I like him. It’s not because he’s harming me as a person. There’s like a hashtag Liberty for Liam because they think I’m some like prison child,” and he also said “my manager’s my best friend,” (and he’s said in the past he is a big support for him) and mentioned stuff they’d talked about recently around his therapeutic awakenings.

He talked about therapy being something you have to want to do and be ready to do rather than being pushed into, like getting sober, and says that this time around with his own therapy work he’s really felt that and thrown himself into it and he talked a lot about his relationship to therapy in connection with band days. “I mean one of our old managers went to therapy from being a manager of One Direction. So if you can imagine how that feels like the rest of us definitely need some.”

“We were young,” he said, “What I found was I didn’t know I was the boss until like a few months ago, I still don’t even feel like I am now, like I’m such a child. And everyone I work with now is older than me and wiser than me and I’m like what the hell am I doing here with these people. When we were 17 I thought the security guard was like in charge of me so I was like Can we leave the room? No? Oh ok then,” and “when we were in the band, the best way to secure us was just lock us in our rooms. And of course what’s in the room? Minibar. So at a certain point, I thought Well I’m gonna have a party for one and that just seemed to carry on throughout many years of my life... You know I spoke to somebody about this in child development as a teen, the one thing you need is freedom to make choices. That we could do anything we wanted it seemed from the outside but we were always locked in a room at night and then it would be car, hotel room, stage, sing, locked. So it’s like they pulled the dust cloth off, let us out for a minute, but then it’s back underneath again,” and “the day the band ended I was like thank the lord for that. And I know a lot of people are going to be mad with me for saying that, but I needed it to stop. It would kill me.” Anyway, he said, because it wouldn’t be Liam without an upbeat coda, “I don’t want any of this to get lost in translation. I’m not 100% moaning about my life... it’s had its ups and its downs, but I would rather talk about it and it’s therapeutic for me.”

And what about that exciting new song? Liam said, “We have a really cool song in the pipeline... one of the first ones I’ve actually written myself- with some other people, I didn’t write it by myself, but it’s the first one I’ve really liked. And I think I got so used used carting around other peoples songs and not embedding myself creatively in what I do because I was so scared to find out who I was,” and “I don’t really know how I would tour again. I really want to” [on discord today he said he would be touring next year] “I always said throughout my solo career I’d let my song book speak to me. And I don’t think my song book spoke to me to get off my ass. I only became a solo artist because I had Strip That Down. I wasn’t gonna do it, I was gonna leave it alone. I was like, I survived it once thank you very much- but I’m back in now. Because the song, I knew it was right. It felt right with that song, I hadn’t had that. This year, the song we have I feel really really great about. So I’d rather let the music do the talking than me come out and force it. We don’t need any more useless music in the world, it needs to mean something,” and he mentioned the new song on the discord a lot too, most notably picking out a long comment that thanked him for making the fan feel supported and safe and for “putting your heart in everything you do” and for his support of the LGBTQ community to respond to with, “I think you will really like the new song.”

A few other random bits, he said that he thinks there should be a system to make therapy available to musicians in the industry, “I think I’m definitely gonna get a dog because I need routine,” and “I recently started jujitsu,” yeah you and everyone else huh, so do him and Louis and Oli go to the same gym or ???, and he acknowledged that as an addict he may have just transferred that to working out “but there’s a lot worse things to be addicted to then looking after yourself” hmm but he does seem to say that he’s doing better around body image stuff; he talks about having put on weight during lockdown and seeing himself in the BAFTAS performance- “I saw myself... and I was like ‘oh my god I’ve completely let myself go in this’. And it was fine...I feel so much more secure in myself now.” Oh and that he’s written a comedic movie script “based around AA” and his experiences there, such as how “I had a really weird AA experience the first time that I went. My first experience was with Russell Brand.” LMAO yes! Cannot wait, bring on auteur Liam please! Anyway as if ALL THAT wasn’t enough he’s also dove into the lead up to his NFT release; he said “I'm almost ready to share my NFTs with you guys... Who wants to see them?” and posted a tiny preview that tells us its (their?) title for the first time- Lonely Bug.

Niall and Anne Marie perform on Jimmy Fallon tonight, and the hype is already a go! I guess it’s prerecorded, as we’re already seeing pictures from it; they’re singing to each other with the cute car from the video in the background. Niall signed on to a letter to Boris Johnson asking for changes to music streaming revenue rules and signed by 232 artists (including all the artists Johnson recently named as his favorites, haha). Zayn signed on to a Billboard petition to the US senate calling for gun safety laws. The bar Zayn got into the fight in front of posted “Zayn's a regular at Amsterdam Billiards and he is a true gentleman. On Thursday night he was confronted by an inebriated passer-by outside on the street and was called a homophobic slur. We support Zayn & condemn homophobia in the strongest terms!” And also PS omg again because it just isn’t going away: Harry’s beauty company is called Pleased As, his name is Harry Edward Styles so yes when listed last name first, as legal documents do, it spells SHE but it is not a “feminist abbreviation” (WHAT? even??) nor the name of the business.

#liam payne #long post #so long #the longest #ugh #yeah I think he’s mentioned the movie before but it’s amazing every time #Liam also talked about the concept of toxic productivity and feeling like you have to be doing things always to be valid #OMG YES PLEASE I want all of them to be talking about that #I notice no one’s circulating that bit where he calls out the fans’ idea that he’s a victim of his manager #I... won’t say it I guess but like… do consider listening to what they actually tell us about themselves occasionally though #rather than just fans online #the industry is fucked but also they're not children #anymore #and have all at this point managed to find people they trust as their closest associates #anyway did I or did I not just say that Liam and Maya had broken up I DID so why was she on insta saying they were still together hmmm? Lies #but the real point is that I was right lol #if you messaged me to ask about the SHE thing it’s not that I’m targeting you it’s that you were one of MANY #it’s really true debunk info just doesn’t get the traction that nonsense posts do #pleased as #should have made that a tag already oops #7 jun 21 #I hope you guys are grateful I have so much time on my hands this took forever #tw alcohol #tw substance abuse #tw alcoholism #maya henry #laya

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p---ink · 3 years

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What’s On Your Mind?

Author’s Note: Hi :) Remember me? I’ve missed you guys, and Tumblr altogether. I felt absolutely guilty about not writing, but the writer’s block was strong on this one guys. And while I’ve had lots of ideas for stories I couldn't quite put them onto paper...or screen. Anyway, wanted to try something new. So this one is about a Thor! I dedicate this one to you @swaggysposts since I know you love Chris Hemsworth. Its pretty short, but still, tell me what you think, my love!

Summary: Avenger reader has a crush on the god of thunder.

Warnings: some lite language and fluff.

Word Count: 4.7k

Part Two Part Three

“I’m sorry? Did I hear that right? You said you can what?” Mr. Stark asked, without a doubt forgetting that there were stranger things in the world.

Clearing my voice, and speaking a bit louder I say, “I can read minds, sir.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Stark voiced out loud placing a sleek pair of sunglasses on his face. He was still pretty skeptical of my claims, but another part of him was very anxious. Or would the word be embarrassed? Mortified? Yes that was definitely the perfect description.

Whatever the feeling was, I knew the cause was because he knew that if what I was saying was true, he would have to start groveling because of the dirty thoughts that raced through his mind when we first introduced ourselves.

‘Forgive me for looking Pepper, but this girl has the ass of a professional volleyball player’ was what he thought as he opened the door for me on the way in.

“I can’t hear what you’re thinking though, because It only works through touch.” I lie, as I watch his worry fade away. I needed this job, and I couldn’t be disqualified because of harmless thoughts that we could all be guilty of sometimes. Besides it wasn’t Tony’s fault: these jeans did do wonders for my bottom.

Something told me though, that if this Pepper weren’t in the picture, he’d have no problem saying what he thought of me out loud. And he was a handsome man, couldn’t be much older than 40, so maybe in another universe I’d consider him. Not this one though.

“Hey Kid,” Stark started, interrupting my own inappropriate thoughts, “just saying ‘I can read minds’, wont be enough. You’ll have to prove it.”

“Of course! Sorry—” I was cut short by the sound of the thick glass doors of the conference room being slammed against the walls.

A brown haired boy with deep chestnut eyes, that looked as frantic as the rest of his face, rushed out apology after apology as he took his seat next to the older man.

Tony, who hadn’t spared the younger boy a glance, said, “Ah, perfect. Tell me what he’s thinking.”

‘Spiderling’ was the name he had assigned him through thought. As I concentrated on his confused features, he looked from me to Stark.

“What who’s thinking? Is Dad—I mean Mr. Stark, referring to me? How could she possibly do that? Oh God, he hasn’t said a word to me since I got here. He must be really upset because I’m late. Geez, I hope he doesn’t take Karen again. I’d rather he kill me.” I repeated, after relaying all of the boy’s thoughts as fast as he could think them.

“Is she right?” Tony asked the boy. He felt both amazed and amused. Amazed with me, and amused by Spiderling for thinking of him as a dad. He would never let him live that one down.

After swallowing his astonishment, and turning his attention from me, Spiderling answered “Yes.”

“Good. And at least we both agree on your punishment. I’d rather kill you, too. Saves me less trouble in the future.” Tony stated. He was punishing him because apparently this was the third time he’s been late to the interviews he was supposed to be in charge of.

Spiderling let alarm overtake his features, but before he could say anything, Tony continued on with more questions.

“Do you have any other skills, we should know about?”

“Well just a bit of hand to hand combat. But it still needs a lot of work. Other than that no—”

“How did this happen?” Spiderling interrupted, wonder getting the best of him.

“Kid,” Tony starts, but he goes ignored by Spiderling.

“Were you bitten by some kind of radioactive insect like me? Or are you super smart like Mr. Stark? Or perhaps it was gamma radiation like Dr. Banner! Or maybe a super serum like Mr. Rogers!—”

“Don’t make me remove your batteries, junior!” Tony interrupted, then he looked to me. “I’m sorry. He’ll keep going if you don’t nip it in the bud early.”

But he didn’t have to tell me that. His own mind, like Spiderling’s, was racing a mile a minute.

“No its fine really. He’s just curious.” I reply with a chuckle. “And to answer your question Spiderling: maybe I was born with it, or maybe its Maybeline.”

I began to grow embarrassed by their silence at my terrible joke, until Spiderling stifled a chuckle. “I get it!” He said between snickers. “Wait why’d you call me Spiderling?” He asked. ‘Is she picking on me?’ He thought.

Needing to correct his thoughts to clear up any offense I say, “No! I would never pick on you, I just thought that was your name because Mr.—”

“Y/N, was it?” Tony interrupts, yet again. “I think you’d make an excellent addition to our team! When can you start?”

“Really?” I ask gleaming, ignoring the fact that he wanted me to shut for outing what he really thought of his younger protégé. “I can start right away! Thank you so much for this opportunity!”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” He hurried. “F.R.I.DAY, will prepare your room, and Peter here will show you around.”

At that Peter hopped to his feet mind racing with thoughts of excitement on the hopes of a future friendship. “Follow me!” He said, grabbing my hand.

“Not so fast, champ. I need to speak with Ms. L/N alone for a moment.” Tony stated, nodding at Peter as he excused himself from the room.

Tony cleared his throat, and relayed his thoughts, thoughts that were hard to separate from Peter’s louder ones earlier. “So Y/N,” He started towards me, leaning in close as he chose his words carefully. “I couldn’t help but notice, that you didn’t need to touch Parker nor I to read our thoughts. Care to explain?”

Flustered at being caught I stumble across my words as I try to explain, “Ah yes, well its rare, but sometimes I don’t need to touch the person.”

“Mmm.” Tony hummed, not believing a word I said, and I knew then the gig was up.

Cocking my head, and wearing a semi-sympathetic expression I say, “Don’t worry. I don’t even know who Pepper is.”

And before Stark could protest, I ran to Peter’s side, so we could begin the tour around my new home.

That was all a little over eight months ago. And so much had changed now. Peter’s hopes became true. We were the best of friends. His boy-like charm never grew old to me, and nor did my gifts to him.

“Cerulean” I’d say, when he’d think things like ‘What’s your favorite color?’. He always thought questions like that as a sort of game. I never got tired of playing along.

It seemed to never click in his mind though that he could never scare or surprise me when he hid behind corners or couches, because I could hear his thoughts before he got the chance to.

But besides the little stunts he’d try to pull by hiding his thoughts in order to frighten me, Peter was as transparent as they were. The boy was an open book, and he rarely kept a secret. It made us perfect friends, because he never seemed to get tired of me knowing every single detail about him.

Though the other avengers treated me like family, Peter seemed to be the only one welcoming of my “gift”.

If you asked Steve, he’d think something along the lines of “I’m too old for this shit” when I’d answer questions he hadn’t had the chance to ask. Then he’d immediately curse himself, for thinking a swear word when I’d tease him with one of the team’s inside jokes, like “language.”

Bucky tried his hardest to keep his thoughts in a vault, but it never worked. I knew exactly how many dead bodies he had under his belt, and where he kept his hidden stash of plums.

Natasha, however, never tried to hide her kill count. She always made it a point to up the number by one as a threat to me, every time I accidentally crept inside her head. I always made it a point to keep my distance whenever she was deep in reflection.

Banner was interesting. His mind had two voices of course, and neither one of them gave a shit about whether I heard them or not. There were the deep thoughts that I struggled to understand most of the time, then others were one-word sentences only. They were louder than the rational side of his brain.

“La, la, la, la, la”, was literally all that Sam would think whenever there was something he wanted to hide. Sometimes he’d do it just to piss me off, because he knew if I said to ‘knock it off’, he could accuse me of evading his thoughts in the first place.

In truth, I never tried to read what they were thinking. I found the process invasive, and distracting from my own feelings. I worked hard to shut it all out, doing my best to make truth of that lie I told Stark all those months ago. But it was very draining, and took more energy than my body could exert. One person was easy enough to ignore, but more than ten, proved to be a task.

Most of my entire life I spent working in order to shut out all of the world around me. I avoided crowds whenever I could, blasted my music through my headphones whenever I couldn’t, and made sure to drug my body heavily with painkillers and vitamins whenever the last two weren’t options.

It was so much work just to go out into the world. So much work until I met him.

The son of Odin was the only person whose thoughts I would pay to hear. Coincidentally, he was also the only person who’s thoughts I couldn’t read. I could never hear him, I would only ever feel him. He radiated a rare intensity I had never felt before. His thoughts, or should I say feelings, even managed to drown out all of those around him. I had no choice but to focus on him whenever he was around.

When I was with him, he literally clouded my brain. I didn’t have to work to shut him or the others out. He did it for me.

I usually thought that was refreshing. But in the time I grew to know him, I found it mostly frustrating at times.

You could say I liked him, but that would be putting it lightly.

Liking someone for me, was a rare luxury. My crushes were always narrowed down to celebrities, and other people who didn’t know I existed.

It was a pain to date people whose thoughts about you were always on display.

And if you thought dating was hard as a telepath, try having sex. Imagine being able to hear all of your partner’s most inner thoughts about the faces you make when you cum, or discovering that you have a small birthmark on your ass that you would otherwise know nothing about.

Yeah, it wasn’t the greatest experience.

I had never experienced the actual joys of feelings for someone, and wondering if they liked me back. Thor was my first. And chances are, he would never feel the same way.

He was a literal god, and he lived up to that fact. I was just an average Midgardian, with a silly school-girl crush. It would never happen.

Silly thing that Fate was. She had to make the only man I found irresistible, unattainable too. What a bitch.

“Hey. Are you ready?” Natasha asked referring to our daily training.

“Yes, what’s on the agenda today?” I ask, a bit confused that she isn’t in her workout attire.

“Well you’ll h–”

“What? Why?” I squeak, before she can finish her thought…well before she can finish her sentence. According to her thoughts, I’d now be training with Odinson.

“I think you’ve graduated from me, kiddo. You can read my thoughts fast enough to predict as well as react to all of my oncoming moves.” Natasha relayed, a hint of sadness detectable through her words. Though she behaved like an older sister to me, she would miss throwing me around on the mat. “We’ll have to see how you do against someone whose actions you can’t predict, just in case that problem comes up out in the field.” She informed me while walking away, before I could confront her.

“Can’t it be someone else?” I yell to her, but she doesn’t answer.

“You wound me, Y/N.” That deep familiar voice bellowed from behind me. “And here I thought you enjoyed my company.”

Oh you have no idea, I thought to myself, as I spun on my feet to face him. I craned my neck to peer up at his eyes. One was a pretty hazel, while the other a deep blue. Cerulean. Funny how he’s the reason I’ve grown so fond of the color after all of these months.

“It’s not that I don’t like you. I just don’t think its fair is all. You know? With you being a god.”

“You’re worried you won’t be able to handle me? Do not fret. I wouldn’t dream of giving you more than you could handle.” He said, wiggling his brows suggestively, while flashing a smile. I suppose I failed to mention that he was a massive flirt that could put even Tony Stark to shame. “I promise to take it easy on you.” He furthered, smirking and winking his hazel orb.

“Why do I feel like your idea of taking it easy is vastly different from mine.” I say, trying to settle the butterflies.

“Whatever you’ve heard about me is nonsense. I’m a merciful master.” He assured. “We’ll just do some light work today: of course we’ll start with stretching, then 30 laps around the facility to build your stamina, a few hours of work on the machines to build your muscle—because my lady you are a dainty little thing, and then we’ll end the day with an hour or two of sparring.”

At the sight of my dumbstruck face, Thor says, “I’m sorry that must be too light. How does 50 laps and three hours of sparring, sound?”

“Are you joking?”

“You’re right. I have some matters to attend to on Asgard, but I think we can squeeze in 75 laps, take it or leave it.”

Realizing how deathly serious he was, I quickly say, “I’ll leave it. Let’s get started.” Deciding to address the subject of excessive training later, I turn to begin my stretches.

Quiet. As usual. I was alone with my thoughts, which was something that only happened quite literally when I was alone. I couldn’t help but be immensely aware of his presence.

Moments like these i’d die to know what he was thinking. Especially when I could feel his stare. It burned worse than fire on my skin.

Fire couldn’t compare to his actual touch, however. The same touch I now felt on my upper back. For a man who weighed over 600 pounds, he was as stealthy as a cat when he wanted to be. His thick fingers against my spine raised goosebumps to my flesh. I would have jumped out of my body if he wasn’t there to keep me grounded.

“My apologies. It was not my intention to startle you.” He informed, through a deep hearty chuckle. “I just needed to correct your form. Your time on the field will suffer if you continue with your training like this.”

“Oh.” I replied, tensing a bit as one of his hands traveled around to my stomach and the other pushed against my spine to straighten my posture. My mind was hazy, and if I had even understood the words he spewed a moment ago, that status now changed.

“It all makes me wonder what the Lady Spider has been teaching you.” He continued, as if he didn’t notice the change in my demeanor. “Better.”

When he stepped away from me, I released a small shaky breath. “What’s on your mind?” He asked. Maybe he did notice the change.

I mentally decided that I would ask him the months-long question I had always wondered about. “What’s on yours.” I state instead of ask, trying to resume my stretches.

“Pardon?” Thor asked. “Do you wonder about what is I ponder? Or is that your answer?

“Both.” I say without hesitation. “Why can’t I read your mind?”

“I’m afraid that’s by design, my lady.”

I stop stretching and turn around to ask, “How?” He had my full attention now.

Shortly after he corrected my posture, Thor had propped himself up against one of the machines to properly examine my form while I stretched. I tried to ignore how awkward that made me feel.

“Since an early age I’ve had to learn to guard my thoughts.” He stated. “My brother is the God of Mischief, and Loki often played games of the mind. Mother took notice of how much it was ailing me, and taught me a few useful tricks on how to keep him out. I guess I’ve always practiced them, even in his absence. I don’t know if I even know how to stop it.”

“Oh.” I breathed out. Trying to make sense of his words.

While I was doing that, he asked,“May I ask why it is you wish to know? I thought you hated your gift.”

“I do. But I guess it still feels odd to not be able to use it on someone. I have no clue what you’re thinking let alone how you feel about me. It unsettles me.” I immediately regretted saying the last part as soon as it was out.

His reaction did not aid my embarrassment. A thunderous laugh erupted from his throat. It was the kind of laugh that you could feel in your abs, and I knew this because his whole torso shook as it spread through his vocal cords. He was genuinely amused.

His amusement prompted me to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“How I feel about you.” I think he mutter softly, before following a little louder to himself, “It’s weakened you.”

“What did you say?” I never had to ask someone to repeat themselves unironically, until I met him.

“Your ability I mean. It has impaired you.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I think the word is ‘spoiled’. Yes that seems to be the perfect descriptor.” He teased.

His words made me feel small and silly. Almost insignificant. “Excuse me?”

Sensing my irritation, he quickly told me, “I meant no disrespect. Its just most of your kind and some of mine are not awarded the same privileges that you have. We rely on body language and hidden meanings behind words to determine how someone feels. Well with the exception of me of course, because who would not adore me?” He joked. “But that’s beside the point. You have not yet learned how to read between the lines. Which is why I unsettle you.”

“I know how to read body language, I’m not an idiot.” I say a bit more sharply than I intended. My sense of inferiority getting the best of me.

“I’m not implying that you are, just that if it were not for your talent you would know have known what was on my mind ages ago.”

“That makes no sense. If I couldn’t read minds, i’d be in the same place I am now: unable to know what it is you think.”

“My dear, even if you could read my mind it would make no difference, for I’ve already made my feelings towards you painfully clear. One need not the aid of your capabilities.”

“Thor, could you stop the riddles—”

He ignored my pleas and kept going. “But just to be explicitly clear this time, since obviousness is lost on you—”

“Stop insulting—”

“I shall tell you how I feel about you.” He stepped and leaned in closer, as if what he was about to say was a secret meant for only my ears. “Listen closely because I will say this but once, so be wary not to misunderstand: I desire you.” He explained, words dripping with the utmost sincerity.

My brain started racing. And I suddenly realized just how close he was. “You desire me?” I repeated to myself.

“Yes. I desire you.” He stated again, anticipating my uncertainty.

If my heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. My poor ribcage wasn’t built for this.

“A-A-as a friend right?” I stutter out. “Because we aren’t, we aren’t close, like the rest of the team? Yes,” I breathe out. “That has to be what you mean.” I say that last part more to myself than to him. Clearly I’ve misunderstood his words, even though he warned me not to.

“While I would value a companionship, I’m afraid that is not all I mean when I say I desire you.”

“Eerr” Words are hard to form all of the sudden. Stammering out sounds is all that I can do.

The air around us stilled, and it was pregnant with silence. He gave me a moment to think before asking, “Would you like further explanation.”

“Yes please.” I rush out quickly. “I think that will clear things up a bit more.”

“Right it would. Well If you wish to know what’s on my brain when you’re near, I shall tell you.” His words are teasingly slow, and he knows this.

"But I doubt,” He continues, “i’ll be able to properly convey just how bad I long to be in your presence when you are gone. Just how much I battle myself when it comes to finding any excuse to touch you. As you know, I lost one of those battles today. I don’t know if you can handle, just how much I imagine your warm embrace to be. How tender I’ve imagined your lips to feel. I just know them to be softer than rose petals and sweeter than nectar.”

“In fact,” He started. I could almost physically see the lightbulb go off over his head. And then, he began ridding us of the rest of our space, extending his long arm to snake around my waist, and pulling me against his chest at a speed faster than lighting. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to put that theory to test.”

It was like a lucid dream. I was only allowed to watch everything play out before me, without the luxury of making any actions myself. It took great focus on my part to even will my head to move. My nod was so subtle I was unsure if he could even see it. But the God of Thunder had more than enough to go off on.

He joined the hand around my waist with his other, and shortly after I could feel my feet rise from the ground. My hands that were previously glued to his chest, found their place behind his neck to support the rest of my body. His head met me the rest of the way, before he blanketed his lips over mine.

He released one of the hands around my waist, to bring it up to my face. His fingers, now fastened to my jaw, slightly parted my lips allowing him to further explore my mouth with his. As massaged my tongue with his own, I could feel his eyelashes dance across my cheeks. That’s how close he was.

Most beards are scratchy and rough, but his felt like silk against my skin. His lips were even softer, and were like velvet in comparison.

I inhaled the scent of rain on freshly cut grass. It reminded me of dewy meadows and Irish springs. His touch was firm, but he managed to hold me with care, like a bull who had trained for years with the sole purpose of entering a china shop.

He tasted like what summer felt like, if you could make sense of it. The kiss had the same intensity behind severe thunderstorms. Beautiful but deadly. I found myself teetering on the edge of a cliff: desperate to chase this thrill, but also wary of whether or not it was worth dying for.

I mentally decided that I could expire in his arms, and be perfectly content with that decision.

I got more into it. I thought that if this was a dream I’d take full advantage of it. Surely dream Thor would be fine with me taking over the kiss. It felt only natural.

I decided it was time for my tongue to do the exploring. My lips needed to memorize the feel of his. My hands wanted to study every strand of hair that lived on the nape of his neck. That was only fair right?

I was enjoying his embrace so much, that I mistook the spinning in my head for shock from kissing a god, instead of the telltale signs of an impending headache. The lack of air in my lungs was because he took my breath away in a figurative sense, instead of the literal physical sense it actually was. The ache that spread throughout my body wasn’t because of the suffocating grip he had to keep me pressed to his chest, but because our bodies were on the brink of fusing into one.

On second thought, maybe dying in his arms is more painful than I previously thought.

I tapped out, and he immediately released me, placing me gently on the ground. I struggled for air, but it was like he didn’t miss a beat. Not a drop of sweat in sight on his gorgeous face. Instead, I could see a bright smile forming.

“Are my thoughts clear enough, now?” He asked, breaking out into smirk.

But I had no time to acknowledge his joke, for I could feel reality setting back in. And reality is, I was a flustered fuck.

“I’m sorry.” I stammered. “I must be holding you from your business on Asgard!”

“What? No—”

But he had no time to argue, for in a flash I was already gathering my gym bag and heading for the door.

“What about your training?” I heard him yell.

“I’m sorry! Maybe another time!” And after that, I practically sprinted to get out of earshot before he could protest or stop me.

I raced passed Peter who was on his way into the gym. “Y/N! Are you okay?” I heard him yell. But what was strange is that I couldn’t hear him think it, despite being more than enough distance away from Thor.

“I’m fine.” I yelled back, hoping he wouldn’t follow. Maybe Peter’s mouth was faster than his thoughts.

No. That wasn’t it, because as I raced through the tower, everyone’s minds were silent, even though they were chatting casually with one another. That never happened.

I burst through the nearest lady’s room, desperate to calm my nerves, when I saw Natasha applying red lipstick. The action by itself wasn’t disturbing, but the expression she wore was.

“Don’t tell the others.” She voiced, in a threatening tone.

“Don’t tell the others what?” I asked confused. Maybe she’d be able to take my mind off of things.

She looked at me like I had grown two heads, much like the first day we met when I proved that I could read her thoughts. “I know you read them. But this is different Y/N, the guys will never let me live this one down.”

“Nat, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the date.”

“You’re going on a date?” No wonder she was so panicked. The woman was more comfortable with killing than she was with being vulnerable.

“Yes—What is wrong with you?” She half-yelled, interrupting herself as if she just realized something was wrong.

I had, had enough with trying to not think about him, because the task was damn near impossible so I decided to just say it. “Thor admitted his feelings for me. And then we kissed!” I cried.

Oh, Nat mouthed, taking a more comfortable position against the bathroom sink. She leaned against its counter, and crossed her arms,“And now you can’t take your mind off of him.”

It was my turn to look at her like she was a lunatic. “How did you know that? Are you a mind-reader too?”

Song for the Chapter: Waiting For You by the Aces: Pretty Self-explanatory lyrics. Think of the song from Thor’s POV

part II

A/N: If you made it this far, don’t be afraid to tell me what you think :)

#thor #thor imagines #thor x reader #thor fluff #thor x black!reader #avenger reader #mcu imagines #black avenger reader #fluff #chris hemsworth #black!reader #black!writer #thor ragnorak

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kiribaku-queen · 3 years

Text

The Blood King and his Queen [4]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: Thank you for all the love you have given to this series so far! As I’ve said before, this is my side blog so I can’t reply directly to your comments. But I love reading them. I love reading your tags when you reblog. It really makes my day. And if I could respond to each and everyone of you, I really would because I just appreciate you so much <3 Just know that I FREAK out everytime i get a sweet comment. Like, I could comment on my main but like... thatd be weird. let me know though if youd like me to do that?

Anyway. lets get to the chapter! Happy reading :)

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After a whole days worth of exploring this new unknown, the sun began to set in the distance and the dark, night sky was quickly approaching. This led Bakugou and his soldiers to set up camp nearby. Not far away from the town you were in was a hill that came with a very beautiful view. It overlooked the entire town and when it becomes fully dark outside, that’s where the magic comes. Lanterns and torches lit up the entire place, creating this orange and red array of beautiful sunset colors.

Bakugou’s soldiers were split into three groups: setting up camp, starting the fireplace, and making food. While everyone was doing their respective tasks, you were sitting under a tree to shade you from the setting sun. Bakugou, on the other hand, wasn’t resting like how a prince normally would. He was helping along side his soldiers; talking, setting up camp, and… laughing. It was the first time you had seen him with a genuine smile on his face.

You tilted your head at the sight. He looked kind. The way he talked to his soldiers, the way he treated them, how he looked like he could be himself… was this the real prince? How could you have made him out to be this horrible person in your mind, only for him to act like a normal person?

As you were deep in thought, Bakugou couldn’t help but take a few glances at you every now and then. You were sitting all alone at the top of that hill and he was here, actively avoiding you. How could he even approach you? Forget that he was practically with you the entire day. He didn’t know how to start a conversation with you. Or with anyone for that matter. He’s not used to having a fiancée that is also a stranger. Being raised sheltered didn’t help him become a people-person. So he opted to helping set up camp. He needs something to keep him distracted from a beauty that keeps looking his way.

“Just go talk to her,” Mina, his female soldier, finally huffed. She was tired of how shy his highness was acting. It was not a sight she usually saw and if she had to take anymore of this fluffy behavior, she was going to pass away.

“I can’t,” Bakugou gave up so easily.

“What do you mean you can’t? Nothing is stopping you from talking to her,” Mina pointed out. But still, Bakugou was reluctant to go.

“What do I even say?” he asked for advice.

“Get to know her! Ask her how her day was. Ask her what her favorite color is. She’s your fiancée, soon-to-be queen. You’re going to have to spend the rest of your life with her. Ya might as well get comfortable with her when you have the chance,” Mina pushed Bakugou slightly towards your direction. Yet, he still wasn’t budging on his own. The female solider groaned and put her hands on her hips.

“I didn’t say you had to fall in love with her. At least try to be friends!” Bakugou’s face became flushed upon hearing the god forsaken L word. He became so flustered that he couldn’t even talk straight.

“W-Who said anything about… l-love,” his voice became quiet at the end.

“Go on, your highness,” she joked, taking the wood from his hands. “Give me this, and go talk to her,” she said one last time and faced away to continue setting up camp. With a deep exhale, Bakugou finally turned to you and walked up the hill.

You saw his highness making his way up the hill to you. Your breath hitched in your throat and you became stiff. By the time Bakugou had taken a seat next to you, you had already straightened your back to create the perfect posture, as a princess should.

There was an awkward silence at first. You and Bakugou just sat in front of that tree while you watched everyone do their job in setting up camp. It took a few moments for Bakugou to clear his throat and finally talk to you.

“How are you enjoying your trip so far?” he asked. That should be a good start, he thought. He glanced at you and got a glimpse at your big, doe-like eyes. You were a bit surprised that he was talking to you in such a civil manner but also made you relax.

“I’m very much enjoying it. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had,” you told him truthfully, childish excitement twinkled in your eyes.

“I’m glad,” Bakugou replied, still flustered at your reaction. He wasn’t expecting such an innocent response from you. You definitely are different from other princesses he’s encountered. But the conversation ends there. Back to silence once again. It was until curiosity got the best of you. You didn’t think about it and went ahead and just said it.

“Your people aren’t scared of you,” you commented. You didn’t realize how insensitive the comment was until it came out of your mouth. You wanted smack yourself in the head but it already came out. You forgot for a moment that you had to pretend to be the princess. And the princess would think before she spoke. But your dumbass thought it was smart to just say whatever came to your head.

“Why, are they supposed to be scared of their prince?” Bakugou asked. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. What do you even say to that? Do you address the rumors you’ve heard?

“I-um,” you stutter. Stupid, stupid! Why did you even say that? After you thought the prince wasn’t actually all that bad, he was going to hate you now.

“I see the rumors travel far,” he says. He shifts in his seat, allowing himself to lay back on his elbows. “It’s not like my people don’t know about the rumors. Even I know about them. They just don’t know what their prince looks like.” He opens up to you. Unlike his brothers, Bakugou likes to hide his face from his people. And he does it well. He wanted to make sure that his identity was hidden and wasn’t made known to anybody. This was the only way that he was able to leave the palace and roam around freely in his kingdom without fear from his people.

“Why would you hide your identity?” you ask, curiously. You’ve never heard of a prince or princess hiding themselves from their people. It was only natural that they are bathed in glory and loved from the public. To hide your identity, you are stripped away from a certain power that only they could hold.

“Because I wouldn’t be able to do this,” he says, opening his arms up to the world. You looked out and couldn’t understand what he was trying to say. Bakugou saw the confusion in your face and chuckled.

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy this freedom. This open air. I wouldn’t have been able to see my kingdom for how it really is. I wouldn’t have been able to be here with you.” You finally meet his eye and you guys hold each other’s stare. That’s when you understood. You could see his story through his eyes. Although you couldn’t see all of it, you understood at least a little. You could see the pressures and difficulties of being the prince, the Blood Prince no less.

Bakugou opens his mouth to say something else but quickly shuts it. He decided that it wasn’t the time to tell you just yet. You caught that little act and frowned.

“What is it?” you ask. Bakugou shakes his head and disregards it.

“In due time, princess,” he says. Before you could rebuttal, Kirishima calls you both down from the bottom of the hill.

“Dinner’s ready!” he shouts. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bakugou is already on his feet to head down. You, on the other hand, take a little longer to head down. Thanks to your dress, you had to gather it, careful not to step on it while getting up. A hand appears in front of your face and you looked up to see the owner. The prince had offered his hand to you while looking away shyly.

Little did you know, Bakugou had planned on doing that. He was already heading down to where the hot food was being poured out in bowls. But Mina had turned to him furious and motioned for him to go back. Bakugou couldn’t understand what she was trying to do. So Mina had physically act out him offering his hand to you as a romantic gesture. Clueless Bakugou did just that. And that simple act made your face heat up.

You and Bakugou made it to campfire with your arm around his. His soldiers held back their snickers and smiles and handed you each your dinner. Inside your bowl was a hot serving of porridge with meat and vegetables to fill you up. The smell was immaculate. You couldn’t wait to taste it. One sip of the porridge and your eyes lit up.

“Delicious!” you exclaimed, downing more of the food.

“I’m glad it’s to your liking, princess,” Sero, another one of Bakugou’s soldiers, bowed in respect while addressing you.

“It’s the only thing he’s good at,” Denki, another one of Bakugou’s trusted soldiers, poked fun at him.

“At least I’m good at something. You’re not good at anything!” Sero bit back and a round of laughter filled the air.

“I’m good at a lot of things!” Denki tried to defend himself.

“Yeah? Name 5 things right now!” Mina joined in. There was more laughter around the campfire when Denki paused to think about his answer. Even Bakugou was giving a hearty laugh at his soldiers joking around.

It was interesting. To see Bakugou’s true self come out around his comrades, or more like his closest friends. Who knew that the angry, scary Blood Prince could smile so wide like this? If you told the girls that the oh so famous Blood Prince wasn’t actually the scary killer we all knew, they’d laugh in your face.

Not long after dinner, you found yourself yawning. Nightfall was already upon you. Since you still had a long way to go for your trip, Bakugou advised you to sleep early so you could depart as soon as possible when the sun rose. Fortunately for you, the tent was already set up. You got into the tent and waited patiently for Bakugou.

This made your heart race. This was the first time you guys were sleeping together and you weren’t wedded yet. Was this okay to do? His soldiers were sleeping a bit farther away to give their prince and his fiancée some privacy. It’s not like you two were going to do anything. Just the thought of having him next to you while you slept in this small tent was something you thought you’d never do. But it couldn’t be avoided. You just had to breath and calm down. It won’t be for long anyway.

You continuously away for Bakugou but he never comes. You peek out the tent and he’s laying out on the grass, hands behind his head and eyes already closed.

“Um,” you speak out and Bakugou peeks one eye out. “Are you not coming in?” you ask.

“The tent is for you, princess,” he says nonchalantly and closes his eyes again. You frown at this.

“Do you not have a tent?” you question.

“I’m used to sleeping on the ground. Don’t worry about me, you should get some rest,” he continues to say with eyes closed. That didn’t sit right with you. It gets very chilly at night. Without any coverage, he’s bound to get cold. It wasn’t fair that you very comfy inside this tent while he is outside in the cold. The more you’re around him, the more your image of him changes. Everything he is doing and saying is making you think differently of him.

You gather your blanket and plop right down next to him. Bakugou jumps and sits up when you get situated in your new sleeping spot.

“What?” you ask, looking up at him.

“What are you-” he couldn’t even finish his question because he is so speechless.

“I’m not going to let you sleep out here by yourself. Come,” you pat the grass next to you. “Lay down.”

Still shocked with confusion, he lays down next to you. Now you were shoulder to shoulder. Going through a roller coaster of emotion, Bakugou is now freaking out because you are so close to him. His heart is beating faster and his mind was racing. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep tonight.

You thought sleeping next to him was going to be no problem. You were so tired that you wouldn’t mind sleeping next to your ‘fiancé’ and just knock out. But it seems like any signs of tiredness was thrown out the window because now you were wide awake.

Probably an hour has passed since you laid down next to the prince. Bakugou noticed that you were restless next to him, constantly moving to get comfortable but never enough that you were able to fall asleep. Should he talk to you? What does he say? Should he follow Mina’s advice?

“Are you awake?” Bakugou’s raspy voice shocked you.

“Ah, yes,” you answer, moving to lay on your back.

“What’s your favorite color?” Bakugou took the courage to ask.

“Lilac purple,” you say. “Do you have a favorite color?”

“Red,” he says simply. “Do you have a favorite food?”

“I like simple dishes like what we ate today. Porridge, soups, stews.” Well, that’s actually all you were able to eat as a servant. But he didn’t have to know that. “You?”

“Anything meat. Favorite piece of literature?” he asked. This made you pause. As a servant, you weren’t able to read anything so how could you answer this question. You tried to think back to a time when you saw the princess studying because for the love of you, you couldn’t remember any names of those books.

“Ah, there’s so many. I can’t name one,” you made up on the spot. But Bakugou believed it.

“I guess I could say the same. Hm, how about favorite animal?”

“Let’s say it at the same time,” you suggested. Bakugou smirked.

“Alright. 1,”

“2.”

“3.”

“Dragon!” you both say at the same time. But at the same time, you both rolled to your side to face each other and that led to your faces being extremely close together. You both stared at each other, wide eyed. Though both stunned, you couldn’t look away from each other. Bakugou looks down at your lips but clears his throat and looks away. You do the same and turn away from him. You cover your face in embarrassment because you saw the way he looked at you. What was that!? Bakugou balled his hands into fists and knocked his head. What was he even thinking?

The more you got into your head, the more you started to drift into sleep. Eventually, your eyes shut completely and you fell asleep. Throughout the night, Bakugou couldn’t sleep. His mind kept replaying how close your face was to his. God, he didn’t even know why his eyes steered towards your lips. As if he wasn’t embarrassed enough, he was even more so for acting like that. He peeked at you and saw you shivering from the night breeze. That blanket was so thin, it wasn’t doing anything to help protect you from the wind. So he takes his cape and wraps it around you. When he adjust the cape to cover all of you, you moved so that you were cuddling up right next to him. You were so close that he could feel your breath on him. Bakugou froze. He was afraid that if he moved, you would wake up. As silently and as slowly as he could, he laid back down with you practically on his chest. Huh, you were so warm for someone who was shivering. It was only a minute that you were on him and he felt his eyes getting heavier with every passing second. Eventually, he falls asleep with you resting in his arms.

The next morning, Kirishima and the rest of the crew wake up early to pack and get ready for the rest of the journey. Kirishima brings Denki along to head up the hill where you and Bakugou were still sleeping. As soon as your sleeping bodies came into view, Kirishima stopped dead in his tracks. You were fully resting on top of his chest, your arm wrapped around his upper body. While Bakugou had a hand under you, wrapped around your waist and his chin rested on top of your head. Kirishima’s eyes softened at the sight. But it was all ruined when Denki got too excited and smacked the red head next to him.

“Dude! You see what I’m seeing?!” Denki whisper shouted. Kirishima rolled his eyes, grabbed his shoulders and turned him around.

“You’re gonna wake them up you idiot!” he scolded, and forced back down the hill to give you guys your privacy.

The sun hit your face just perfectly for you to wake up naturally. You stretched your arms and yawned. At the same time, Bakugou was also just getting up. The moment your eyes saw each other and saw how you were positioned, blush immediately appeared around your cheeks and you both separated from each other. Thank god you guys woke up before anyone saw you like that, you thought. But the soldiers had already seen you two together.

A/N: I’d love to hear what you have to say about this chapter! Lots of fluff so far! I literally can’t wait for the drama to begin but we gotta build up to it! Any drama you want to see happen? Let’s spice this baby up!

Also let me know if you want to be tagged for the next chapter! Spoiler: danger next chapter???? Can’t wait to see you next Monday! Thanks for all the love <3 I love you guys so much!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou imagine #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha imagine #bakugou angst #bnha art #bakugou fluff #bakugou romance #bakugou drama

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Guns Blazing, Tides Rising (Part Five)

When Kaz Brekker announces that they’ll be working with a certain Tidemaker to help with the latest heist, Jesper knows it’s not going to end well. He and Y/N L/N have a fierce rivalry, although feelings may change over a night.

previous / series masterlist

a/n: it’s finally over 😭thanks once again to @underc0vercryptid for being my muse for all of this

It’s hard for Jesper to convince himself to leave the alley, to let his hands leave Y/N and return to their places by his sides. Inej and Kaz will be looking for them, that much is true. But there’s still a sound like a sigh trapped and rattling in his lungs when he leaves, a regret that he can’t quite excuse away with knowledge of what Kaz’s vengeance would mean if he found a single Dreg disobeying one of his most enforced rules.

Y/N understands, that much is true. She’s become more involved with the Dregs as time goes on. She knows Kaz Brekker in the way that they all do- the Bastard of the Barrel isn’t one that you cross unless you wish to lose your tongue and your life. It still seems wrong to give this up, though, to let Dirtyhands keep walking all over him for the one thing that matters. In the end, they would have had to leave the alley anyways. This is just the first excuse that passes Jesper’s lips.

He manages to turn off his mind for a little while, convincing himself that it doesn’t feel harder and harder to leave, that he can be emotionless and cold. Jesper’s tone is clinical when he tells Kaz and Inej of the successful mission, his hands for once unshaking and firm when he hands over the list of names to Kaz. However, even his attempts at being fine and calm draw suspicion- Kaz hadn’t seen them rejoin the rest of the party when the guests relocated from the main hall, and he wanted to know why.

Jesper has spent enough time running with the canal rats for lies to spring easily to his tongue. There was a difficulty finding the safe, he says, they had to dodge some guards and they didn’t quite get there in time. It doesn’t really matter, though, does it? They got in, they got out, and they weren’t the reason the alarms were sounded. Kaz raises an eyebrow at this, but he doesn’t press it. Jesper might be well and truly hallucinating, but he swears he sees a tinge of unrest in Kaz’s eyes, like the boy is haunting himself over the fact that he may have made an error, one that could have gotten his gang caught like a too-clever fox in a trap.

Maybe this shift in Kaz’s usual ruthless demeanor is enough to unsettle him, or maybe it’s the gnawing knowledge that Jesper keeps walking away from the girl he might love that drives him to leave the Slat once more. It’s early morning now, dawn with its rosy-fingered hues, but a lack of sleep has hardly bothered Jesper before, and it certainly won’t now. He thinks as he walks, stretching his legs as he paces mindless circles around the city.

Jesper can’t shake the feeling that he’s been running for too long. He’s used to it, but for some reason, it feels different now. He doesn’t like this constant leaving, this weight on his shoulders like he’s holding true to a lie that will one day spiral out of control. Jesper is used to living life on the run, to being flamboyantly proud of everything that makes him, well, him. The skulking around back corners, stealing kisses only after he’s checked and double-checked that no one is watching? It feels like a noose is tightening around his neck.

In the end, Jesper finds himself climbing up a rickety fire escape and stretching his legs out over the edge of a roof, watching the golden dawn start to turn the waters surrounding Ketterdam bronze with light. It is not long before he is joined by someone else, someone with answering steps and a reassuring smile tossed his way. Maybe she could tell from how they’d left that he was still lost in thought. Regardless, Jesper is happy to not be alone.

Y/N sits next to him, carefully swinging her feet over the edge. Her heels kick up against the brick. “I like this view. I like being able to see the water. It feels like I’m more connected to it.” Jesper turns his head towards her, watching the way the early morning air toys with her eyelashes, her face. “Is it easy to be a Tidemaker here? I mean, you’re powerful enough that people don’t try to trap you with indentures. Does it ever get easy in Ketterdam?”

Y/N laughs quietly. “Not at all. I still remember when I first showed up and stepped off of the boats. My parents wanted to send me away from the disaster that was the Ravkan civil war. They guessed it would happen long before it did, and assumed Kerch would be safer. They sent me over first, saying that they’d follow soon after.” Jesper can hear the inflections in her voice, the way she casts her eyes towards the water with renewed vigor. He knows this means that they never showed up again.

She clears her throat, voice stubbornly loud as if ridding herself of doubts. “I was terrified when I first got here. Nothing made sense. In Ravka, Grisha were feared, yes, and there were always traders or mercenaries or even drüskelle out for blood, but we had a home there. If you had a home, people rarely came hunting for you. I had no such harbor here.”

Y/N looks out over the streets as if she’s never walked them before, as if she’s once more a stranger to the coal-choked airways always drenched with a spattering of rain and misfortune. “I had a friend. A girl who came with me. She was an Inferni, made the mistake of trying to summon up a small spark to keep her warm. I watched them take her right before my eyes, and I didn’t do anything at all. I vowed from that moment on that I would never be weak again, never hide in the shadows like I did on that night.”

Jesper’s heard bits and pieces of the story from here. He’d learned the most about her before he even liked her at all, actually, back when they still considered themselves to be rivals. Jesper had told himself that he was just collecting information on an enemy to best take her down the next time they crossed paths, but there was more to that, wasn’t there? Maybe that was a sign that even then, when Jesper had convinced himself that the only thing they could ever have was animosity, he still wanted something more. That was a gambler’s luck, after all- always reaching for a better deal, a shinier prospect. She was his best capture.

Y/N glances over at him like she can sense his thoughts. “That’s when you entered the picture, actually. I stopped being scared to hide my powers and started using them in bloodlust. I took up jobs, found this one really annoying sharpshooter who kept getting in my way.” Jesper presses a hand to his chest in mock indignation. “I think you can do better than just ‘really annoying’. Dashingly infuriating, maybe. Devastatingly attractive. A charming enemy who-”

Y/N cuts him off, laughing. “You’re awful. Utterly awful.” Jesper goes to protest, but she leans in, pressing a kiss to his lips that makes his heart swoop in his chest. Y/N raises an eyebrow at Jesper’s sudden silence. “Am I that good of a kisser? I don’t think I’ve seen you that awestruck in a while.” Jesper scoffs. “I can do better than that.”

He lets his hands find hers, lets the rising sun light the way his lips meet hers. They don’t leave the rooftop until the sun has fully ascended to its place in the sky, until the clatter of feet on cobblestones is the only reason for an exit. Not a gang, not its fearsome leader. Just the two of them, drowning out the whole world until there’s nothing left at all.

He is eventually found out, of course. All stories repeat themselves, all beginnings follow suit. When Kaz calls Jesper up to his office, he finds that he isn’t worried at all. Before, he might have felt his shoulders tense, hesitating at the door. When Jesper faces the oddly terrifying wooden paneling, however, all he can think about is the sun shining through Y/N’s eyes, the smile on her lips as his fingers laced around hers. If loving her is wrong, well, Jesper’s already been a criminal for quite some time. Why not add one more misdeed to the list?

Kaz waits for him in the office. He stands up, black gloved hands tapping on the familiar crow’s head cane. It’s all meant for a threatening display- Jesper’s seen this very posture used successfully on many a nervous trainwreck of a failed business partner or lackluster goon. However, Jesper’s still filled with the giddy rush of seeing his girl and he can’t quite force himself to care.

Kaz clears his throat, the metal hull of a ship scraping against jagged rocks. “Y/N L/N.” He doesn’t have to say anything else, just the name. Jesper nods. “Yes.” Kaz raises an eyebrow. “You’re not going to deny it?” Jesper shrugs. “We both know your information is good. Yes, I’m seeing her.” Kaz’s fingers still on the head of the cane. “You know how I feel about that. It’s a weakness.”

Jesper should take it as a possible sign of insanity that he’s considering the path before him at all. He knows what Kaz expects of him- an apology, maybe, a promise that he won’t stray from the rules again, or at least not so long as they interfere with Kaz’s master plan for the Dregs. He’ll see Y/N out, do his best not to cross paths with her again. He might return to the gambling halls once more just to stave off some unsightly emptiness inside of him, and then he’ll be as good as gold.

Jesper, however, does not intend to do any of this at all. What good are the odds if he doesn’t have his girl? He’s stepped inside the Crow Club over the past couple of days. The rattle of Makker’s Wheel doesn’t have that same fervor, the excitement doesn’t spread over him in the same delicious rush. Simply put, it isn’t worth it. It isn’t a gamble worth his time, and Jesper’s lost mightier fortunes over lesser odds.

So Jesper shakes his head. “Not her. Not like this.” Kaz tilts his head just slightly, eyes calculating, looking for loopholes to exploit. “So you’d willingly break the rules?” Jesper leans forward. “We’re Dregs, Kaz. It’s what we do.” Kaz returns his level gaze. “Not like this. Tell me, what is it that makes Y/N L/N worth this much to you? You were enemies before, were you not? Is it the power? The chance that she may be like you?”

Jesper lifts a shoulder. “It’s not always about finding the best possible advantage, Kaz. We work well together. It was only a matter of time before it was more.” Kaz Brekker might understand. Dirtyhands does not. “Your goal was not to find some pretty girlfriend in the Barrel, Jesper, it was to complete the mission and move on. I knew from the second you held her bleeding body in your arms that this wouldn’t be worth my time or my energy.”

Jesper doesn’t realize he’s standing until he is. “Then say it. I’ve spent my time playing your games, Kaz, and Saints know I’ll keep on turning your tables, but not on this. We all break the wheel at some point. I’m willing to do it for her.” Kaz is silent for a time, a time that seems to stretch on into such an eternity that Jesper finds himself tapping his revolvers again, feeling that same itch for a fight. It’s well and good to go into a battle of the bullets and feel the adrenaline kick in, he could handle that. This, however? Waiting for Kaz to do something, anything? You can’t fight that, only wait for it to end. And Jesper’s never been particularly good at waiting.

At last, Kaz speaks. “Then stay with her.” Jesper almost thinks that he’s started hallucinating. “What?” Kaz inclines his head. “She’s good for you. You’ve been more focused.” Jesper stares for a second, then shakes his head, fighting back the impossible urge to break into manic laughter. “Honestly, if it takes you considering the potential business opportunities to approve of us, I’m not about to challenge that.”

Something almost like a smile appears on Kaz’s face. Jesper is most certainly going insane. “I’m not completely heartless, Jesper. You’re a useful sharpshooter.” Jesper’s eyes widen. “That’s practically a compliment. Do you need me for a heist later? I can’t think of anything else to cause this.” Kaz tilts his head in acknowledgement of this surreal situation, pausing for a second as if listening to a voice that no one else can hear.

Then he gestures towards the door, allowing Jesper to leave. As Jesper walks towards the door, though, Kaz says something else. “Inej just left the roof.” Jesper nods in understanding. “Look at you. Dishing out the compliments for your Wraith to hear.” Kaz’s brow furrows, and Jesper decides to leave the office now before Kaz decides to take back his approval of Jesper and Y/N and hit him with his cane or something else overtly Kaz-like.

Despite his best efforts, Jesper is still teeming with anxious energy after the meeting, so he goes on a quick stroll around the crooked alleyways of the Barrel to calm the restless ticking of his hands and legs. When he comes back to the Slat, however, he notices that his door is slightly ajar. Jesper enters his room slowly, relaxing at the sound of voices.

The window is open, showing the faint drizzle of the streets outside. Y/N sits on the floor next to Inej as both girls consider a makeshift target of a few rags at the far end of the room. Inej tosses a knife up and down in her hand, then flings it towards the target. She hits it in the center, to no one’s surprise. Y/N’s eyes follow the path of the blade, and then she extends her hand towards the window, letting drops of rain fly towards her palm. She curls her fingers around the water, shaping it into a perfect replica of the knife Inej had just thrown, then directs it towards the target to slosh around Inej’s blade, another direct hit to the center.

Inej makes a scoffing sound. “That doesn’t count. You got to control the knife instead of just throwing it.” Y/N shrugs absentmindedly. “You got to pick a knife, I had to make mine myself. I think it evens out.” Inej glances up towards Jesper, smiling slightly. Somehow, it comes to no surprise that she’d known he was there all along. “Jesper, come tell your girlfriend that she’s cheating at target practice.”

Jesper shrugs. “As long as you hit the target I don’t think you can cheat. Also, I thought I locked this door.” Y/N grins up at him. “That’s the unbiased support I love to hear. And your door was locked, we just wanted to go in so we did.” Jesper nods. “That clears up everything.” Y/N laughs. “Good to know.” Inej stands up, stretching, and goes to retrieve her knife. She goes to climb through the window once more then pauses, turning to face them.

“I’m glad Kaz let you two stay together. I certainly did my arguing for you.” Jesper frowns. “How long have you known?” Inej sighs exasperatedly. “Practically since the start. You two are terrible at being secretive, you know that?” She doesn’t give them time to protest, just slips out the window and disappears into the roofline before you could even blink.

Y/N walks over to Jesper, a half smile on her face. “I suppose she’s right. We haven’t exactly been the most discreet, have we?” Jesper shrugs. “Maybe not. But we don’t have to hide anymore. We don’t have to leave.” Y/N smiles at him now, a true smile. “I like the sound of that.” Jesper hums thoughtfully, leaning down to kiss her. “So do I.”

guns blazing, tides rising masterlist: @kaqua, @amortensie

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creativewritingpracticestudio · 4 years

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The Whole Damn World, And More(Current!Axl Rose x Reader) [Smut]

This wasn’t requested, but I love current day Axl, and I really wanted a fic like this.

Description: You’re Axl’s much-younger girlfriend, and the media has had a field day with your relationship. Every article is a false speculation that you’re a gold digger, that Axl’s paid you to date him, that it’s a fake relationship for publicity. It’s not doing much for Axl’s self-esteem, and you’ve noticed. No matter what the media says, it doesn’t change how you feel about Axl, and you’re determined to prove it.

Warnings: Smut, Age Gap Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Low Self-Esteem

Guns N Roses Taggers: @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @curly-hudson @ubernoxa

Permanent Taggers: @smokeandmirrorz @holyjunkie @overlyobsessedfangirl @slashevilsister @julessworldd @comawhxte666 @agroupiewhore

Older Axl Rose Taggers: @frankillol @assassin-canary

“This is bullshit. Utter. Fucking. Bullshit.”

You stared down at the trashy gossip magazine that was tightly clutched between your fingers, a look of pure disgust on your face. The press weren’t even trying to hide their opinion of your relationship with Axl, anymore. A picture of you and Axl was the front cover. The picture itself was incredibly manipulative; they had snapped the photo while you were distracted, so Axl was smiling at you lovingly while you looked off somewhere else, appearing uninterested.

Along with the picture, the caption read, “Axl Rose has a new girlfriend-or is sugar baby a better word? (Y/n) (L/n), seen pictured here alongside the singer(who just turned 59)while out at a local festival, appears to be completely uninterested in her supposed lover. Maybe the money just isn’t enough?” You could feel your face going beet red. Fuck, you hated the fucking press so much sometimes. You tossed the stupid magazine onto the kitchen floor and stood up from the table, kicking it aside.

God, why did the press hate you so much? You’d known there would be talk, considering how much younger you were than Axl, but this was just plain ridiculous. They were grasping at straws just to drag you through the damn mud. “Everything okay, baby? Heard you throw something.” You glanced up to see Axl standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. You smiled. “Hey, baby. I’m fine. Just a magazine.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “What did the magazine do? Do I need to beat it up?”

You giggled, and walked over to give him a hug. “Don’t worry about it, baby. It’s dumb.” He kissed you on the cheek, resting his forehead against yours. “Is it really, or do you just not want me to know what you’re upset about?” Damn it. Axl could always tell when something bothered you. You sighed, leaning your head against his chest, and looked up at him. “The media’s such a bitch sometimes.” A look of understanding crossed his face.

“What was the headline this time?” You stomped over to the magazine and picked it up, smoothing out the wrinkles as you handed it to Axl. He glanced down at it, and a look of hurt crossed his face that made you feel awful for even showing it to him. God, he didn’t deserve this bullshit. “Sugar baby, huh? You put up with way too much of my bullshit to just be in it for my money, isn’t that right baby?” He tossed the magazine back on the floor and wrapped you back into his arms for another warm hug.

You accepted the hug, but pulled your head away from his chest long enough to give him a pointed stare. “You know those magazines are bullshit, right? I love you, not your money.” Axl smiled, although somewhat unconvincingly, and nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I know, baby.” You knew he was lying, but decided not to pry. You kissed him on the neck and rested your head on his chest again, and he sighed, stroking your hair. “Let’s not look at these magazines anymore.”

You hummed in agreement, the both of you gently rocking back in forth in the embrace, and he suddenly pulled away. “Let’s go watch some TV, baby.” You smiled and followed him into the living room, knowing he was more interested in cuddling on the couch than in actually watching anything. He plopped down on the couch, and you crawled into his lap, letting him wrap an arm around your waist as you rested the back of your head on his chest. He flipped quickly through the channels, and you saw a flash of his name on the screen.

Evidently, he did too, because he stopped on that channel, which turned out to be a trashy talk show. It was a group of middle-aged woman sitting around a table; the bar at the bottom of the screen read: ‘Axl Rose’s Gold Digger Girlfriend.’ You felt Axl tense up, and looked up at him. He looked pissed, but didn’t change the channel. The women were talking about how “obvious” it was that you were using him for his money. “I mean, let’s be honest with ourselves. She’s a young, pretty girl, and Axl Rose hasn’t been attractive since the nineties. There’s nothing in it for her except his money.”

The host who had said that received a round of applause from the audience, but you had already snatched the remote from Axl and turned the TV off, breathing heavily from how pissed off you were at the girl’s words. You could tell from how tightly he was gripping your waist that Axl was upset, and you quickly got off of his lap and turned around to pull him into a hug, pushing his head against your chest and stroking his hair as you whispered in his ear. “Baby, I’m so sorry, don’t listen to them, they don’t know anything.” Axl mumbled something into your shirt. “What did you say, baby?”

He pulled away and repeated himself. “Guess we’ll have to throw the TV out, too.” You smiled, but you knew he was only joking to hide how hurt he was. “I’ll burn it for you, my love.” You took his hand and pressed it against your cheek, kissing his knuckle. “We can just find something else to do, anyway. Actually, I can name a couple of things right now that we could do instead of watching TV.” You smiled suggestively and ran your hand down Axl’s chest, expecting him to get excited and carry you upstairs to the bedroom like he always did, but to your surprise, he shook his head and pushed your hand off, standing up.

“I think I’m just going to call it a night, baby. I ordered a pizza a while ago, it should be here soon. Eat as much of it as you want.” He went upstairs without another word, and you felt a stab of guilt. It was only 8:30; there was no way he was actually tired. Or, maybe he was. You couldn’t blame him, seeing as this constant media bashing would exhaust anyone. Worst of all, it seemed like he was genuinely starting to believe what the media was saying about how you were only with him for his money. That he was an ugly, fat, worthless rock star, and you were just pretending to love him for his cash.

The thought of him believing that was enough to make you want to cry. He was such a sweet man, and he loved you so much, and people couldn’t just leave him alone and let him be happy for once in his life. As you sat at the table, waiting for the doorbell to ring for the pizza, a terrible thought occurred to you: what if Axl was crying upstairs, all alone and feeling used? The image of him curled up in the fetal position with tears running down his face, like a scared little boy, was the final straw. Fuck the goddamn pizza, Axl was way more important.

You hurried up the stairs, almost tripping from how fast you were going, and stopped in front of your bedroom door, pressing one ear to the door to see if you could hear anything. It was deathly silent, which worried you way more than anything else would have. After a moment, you hesitantly knocked on the door. “Come in.” It was so quiet, you almost didn’t hear it. You opened the door, and closed it behind you as you came in. Axl was laying on the bed, facing away from you. His shoes and jeans were still on, and there were no blankets on him. He was just laying there, staring at the blank wall.

“Baby? Are you okay?” You walked around to his side of the bed, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. He hid his face in the pillow, and you reached out to take his much-bigger hand in your own. “Axl? Honey, look at me please. You can talk to me, you know that.” His shoulders relaxed a little bit, and he moved his head so his cheek was against the pillow. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but you could at least see his face now. “Tell me what’s wrong, my love. I hate seeing you like this.” He sighed, squeezing your hand, and shook his head. “It’s so fucking stupid, baby.”

You leaned down closer to him and stroked his hair, eyeing him sympathetically. “What’s stupid, baby? Talk to me, I’m here for you.” He was silent for a moment, seemingly getting his thoughts together. “I feel like I’m not enough for you.” You felt a pang of guilt in your chest, heartbroken at how sad he sounded. “Not enough for me? Aw, baby, I’m so sorry, how have I made you feel like that? I promise I didn’t mean to, you’re more than enough for me.” Axl shook his head, finally sitting up enough for you to see his face. “I don’t mean you at all, baby, you haven’t done anything wrong. If anything, I think you’re just about the only person who hasn’t acted like I’m not enough for you.”

Confused, you crawled into Axl’s arms and wrapped your own around him, pulling him closer to you to make him feel safer. “Then who’s been making you feel that way, baby?” You gently scratched his back with your fingernails, and felt him relax under your touch. “The media, talk show hosts, people on fucking Twitter, my friends, the entire general public, I could go on and on. It’s like I’m finally happy and I’ve finally met someone whom I’m head-over-heels for, and it feels like everyone’s against it. All this shit..as far as the newspapers are concerned, you’re a gold digger and I’m a fat, ugly loser who’s paying you for sex.”

You felt your heart rip in half. Did he really believe that you were only in this for the money, like how people were saying? “Axl, baby, I don’t know if me saying this will help anything, but I promise you I’m not with you for your money. I’m with you because you’re kind, and you’re funny, and you’re so, so handsome, and so talented, and because I love you so much. You could lose all your money tomorrow and I’d still be right here beside you when you woke up the next day.” Axl looked genuinely touched, and he leaned over and kissed you on the lips. “Maybe I really don’t deserve you. You’re the sweetest fucking angel on earth, you know that, baby?”

You grinned and stroked his face, happy he was cheering up. “We deserve each other, baby. But you really do know I’m not a gold digger, right?” Axl nodded. “I never thought you were, baby, I’ve just been worried that those people are right. That you do deserve someone better, and that you’ll realize that and leave me for a younger guy who’s actually attractive and more in shape than me, you know? I guess I wouldn’t blame you if you did, though, I know I’m not exactly the most sexually appealing guy on the planet. Far from it, actually. I’m sorry for that.” You frowned and kissed his forehead. “What? Baby, where did you get that idea from?”

He laughed, and leaned his head back against the pillow, clasping his hands behind his head. “Haven’t you seen all the talk shows and the headlines and the memes, baby? I think it’s pretty clear what the general public thinks of me. Not to mention, we have mirrors.” You narrowed your eyes and, without warning him, straddled him and pinned his arms down on the bed, leaning forward so that your lips were just an inch away from his. “You really think you’re not attractive enough, baby?” He looked a little surprised, but nodded. You leaned even closer until your lips brushed his own. “Guess I’ll have to show you how wrong you are, then.”

You kissed him roughly, gripping his shirt in your fingers and running your hands up his chest. When you pulled away, his lips were swollen and red, and he looked shocked out of his mind. “What do you say, Ax? Want me to show you? I won’t do anything else unless you want me to.” He nodded quickly and pulled you back down to kiss him again, running his hands down to squeeze your firm ass. You could feel him getting hard beneath you, and you ground your hips down against his, feeling it harden even more as he moaned against your lips.

You pulled away and tugged at the hem of his shirt, hinting to him that you wanted it off, and he hesitated. You immediately stopped and looked up at him. “What’s the matter?” He smiled weakly. “Maybe I should keep the shirt on this time, baby.” You frowned and shook your head. “No way! I love seeing you shirtless, baby, I’d let you walk around like that all day if you wanted to.” He still looked uncertain, so you spoke to him gently. “Do you really not want to take it off? I’m not gonna force you, baby.” He fidgeted with his shirt hem. “Do you promise that you actually like me like that? With my shirt off, I mean. It really doesn’t bother you?”

You smiled reassuringly and kissed his forehead. “It doesn’t bother me at all. I love your body, baby, you should be proud of it. Here, let me see.” You gently pulled his shirt up enough to expose his chest and tummy, and admired his body fondly. “See? Nothing to be ashamed off. It’s perfect to me.” You leaned down and kissed a line down his chest, reveling in the sounds he made as you got closer to his bulge. You kissed down his belly until your lips reached the waistband of his jeans, and then licked a stripe up his belly, making his hips jolt underneath you. You fiddled with the button on his jeans, and he sat up a little more excitedly.

You pulled his jeans down his thighs enough to reveal his boxers, and slid your hand down his waistband to rub his cock. He moaned softly at the contact, and you pulled his cock out and let it rest against his stomach, stroking a finger up the exposed underside of the shaft. Tiny drops of precum beaded from the tip, and you swiped them up with your finger and licked them up. You realized he still had his shoes on, and got off of him long enough to pull them off along with his tight pants and boxers, leaving him completely naked and exposed. Your eyes raked his body appreciatively, and you smiled.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby. God, look at that. Your cock looks so tasty. I guarantee you those bitchy talk show hosts don’t get dick like this. I’m so lucky.” Your words made Axl go red, and he smiled sheepishly as you climbed back on top of him and kissed him once again, running your hands over his chest as you did so. By now, a steady stream of precum was leaking from his tip, and his erection was so red and throbbing that it almost looked painful. “Aw, look at that. Let me take care of you, baby.” You reached out and wrapped your hand around the base, and he sighed gently at the soft touch.

You gently pumped your hand up and down his hard shaft, rubbing your thumb over his slit and spreading the precum over his head. His head fell back against the pillow, and you giggled and leaned down to kiss the tip. His reaction was to curse under his breath and push the back of your head down until your mouth was around the tip, and you eagerly sucked on the head as you attempted to slowly take the entire thing into your mouth. A low moan fell from Axl‘s lips, and he mumbled praises under his breath as he closed his eyes and laid back against the bed. You rubbed circles on his thigh with one hand.

You wrapped one hand around his base to keep it steady as you took it all the way into your mouth until your lips met your hand. You used your free hand to cup his balls, fondling them as you swirled your tongue around the tip, licking up the beads of precum leaking from his slit. Axl shivered and gently pulled you off of his dick, beckoning you to come closer to him. You did, and he kissed you desperately as his hands slid up the back of your shirt to hold onto your hips. He pulled away and smiled. “How come I’m the only naked one here? It’s not very fair.”

You grinned at him and nodded. “You’re right, it’s not! So sorry, let me fix that, baby.” You grabbed your shirt by the edges and pulled it off, throwing it across the room and turning back to Axl. “Wanna help me get this bra off?” Axl’s face lit up and he nodded eagerly, sliding his hands around to the clasp of your bra and unsnapping it with ease. “You’re a natural at this, baby!” Axl laughed. “Probably helps that we do this a lot.” You tugged the bra off and discarded it with the shirt, and then grabbed Axl’s hands and guided them to your breasts.

He gently squeezed them, rubbing his fingers over your nipples until they were hard, and then looked up at you. “Move a little closer?” You smiled, knowing what he wanted to do, and leaned close enough for him to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently on it and then gently sucking a hickey onto the space right above it. You tightened your hands in his hair and moaned softly, encouraging him under your breath. “Fuck, that’s so good, baby.” Soon enough, you pulled away and grabbed Axl’s hands again to guide them under your skirt.

His hands were warm, and you had to bite your lip to keep from gasping as he gently teased your entrance with his fingertip. Axl slowly pushed it inside you, immediately stretching out your walls as you tightened around him. “Here, take the skirt and the panties off so I can see you better.” You obediently lifted yourself up enough to slide off your skirt and thin panties, letting them drop to the floor. Axl’s eyes drifted down to your exposed pussy, and he beckoned for you to move closer. “Fuck, you look so damn perfect, baby. I don’t deserve you.” You leaned down to kiss him again, cupping his cheek.

“You deserve me, I deserve you, we deserve each other, baby. Want me to ride you?” Axl nodded, eyes widening as you grabbed his cock by the base to steady it as you lined up your entrance with his tip, placing your free hand on Axl’s chest as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, throwing your head back in pleasure as you slid down about half-way on it and then stopped to adjust to his size. “Fuck, your cock is so big baby, you stretch me out so good!” Axl moned softly at the praise, grabbing your hips and gently pulling you all the way down on his dick as your pussy tightened around his shaft.

You pulled his hands off and pinned them to his chest, deciding that you wanted to take control, and pulled yourself all the way back up off of his dick so that the tip was barely pressing against your entrance. Axl protested at the sudden lack of contact, but immediately shut up when you slammed your hips all the way back down on his cock without warning, prompting him to grab at the bedsheets with a white-knuckled grip. You developed a steady rhythm, going up and down on his dick at a face past as he kept busy by grabbing at your soft breasts as they teasingly bounced around in front of his face.

“Fuck, Axl, you feel so good. You think any of those bitchy fucking talkshow hosts get fucked this good? You think those losers that write the newspapers can fuck their wives as good as you fuck me? God, you’re so amazing, baby, I love you so much!” You leaned down to kiss him passionately as you slowed your pace, taking the time to tease his tip with your entrance as you only went as far as his tip. When you took him all the way in again, his tip brushed against your g-spot, and you moaned loudly, pushing your hips farther down to repeat the motion. After doing this a few more times, you could tell you were almost there. “Fuck, baby, I’m close!”

Axl grabbed your hips and pulled you off of his dick. “Let me eat you out, baby, I wanna taste that sweet pussy.” You eagerly crawled up until your pussy was an inch away from his mouth, and he pulled your thighs down to give himself better access as he slid his tongue over your dripping wet clit. Axl grabbed your ass and gently pushed you down so you were sitting on his face, allowing him to push his tongue deeper inside you as his lips wrapped around your sensitive clit. You gasped at the sensation, bucking against his mouth as he ate you out like a starving beggar; it only took you about a minute or so until you felt your climax coming.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum-” You threw your head back and screamed as you came, legs shaking and eyes almost rolling back in your head. Axl licked up your cum, cleaning it out of your now-sensitive pussy and gently kissing your thigh. “You taste so good, baby, thank you.” You kissed him again, tasting yourself on his lips, and then remembered that he was still hard. “Aw, baby, I almost forgot. Here, let me pay you back for that.” You crawled down until you were facing his cock, the tip even redder than before, and wasted no time in taking the whole thing in your mouth, deepthroating it roughly to help him cum as quickly as possible.

You hollowed your cheeks around his shaft as you squeezed his balls and swirled your tongue around his head, and Axl warningly fisted his hands into your hair and shoved you all the way down. “Baby, baby, fuck I’m so close, I’m gonna cum right down that pretty little throat.” You took the hint and pulled off so that just his tip was in your mouth, and he came down your throat, tightening his fingers into your hair and keeping you on his cock as his cum filled your mouth. It was almost a minute before he was finished, and you quickly swallowed his seed and lapped up the stray drops from his cock.

When you looked up at Axl, his head was leaned back against the pillow and his eyes were shut, chest rising and falling as he slowly began to regain his normal breathing pattern. You smiled affectionately and crawled up beside him in bed, pushing the hair up off of his forehead to help him cool off. He opened one eye to look at you, a small smile on his face. “That was pretty fucking incredible, baby.” You giggled, kissing him on the forehead and cuddling up beside him as you pulled the covers over the two of you. “Damn right it was. But do you get it now? Those newspapers and shows don’t mean shit. I love you, Axl Rose, and that’ll never change.”

Axl smiled, taking one of your hands in his own and gently kissing your knuckle. “And that’s why your the love of my life, baby. I fucking adore you. You really don’t mind how I look?” You nodded. “Why would I? You’re sexy as fuck, baby, I wouldn’t fuck you so much if I didn’t think so.” Axl closed his eyes again, laughing. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. That’s a relief, cus I really like your body, too.” You playfully rolled your eyes and snuggled up closer to him. “Never would have guessed. For real, though, I love you. And I don’t care how many articles or talk shows think that’s a lie, we can just burn the newspapers and change the channel.”

Axl nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. I bet half of those talk show ladies are just jealous that they’re not as beautiful as you, anyway.” You blushed. “Or maybe they’re just jealous that their love lives aren’t as good as ours.” Axl nodded. “Or that they aren’t as sexy.” You continued, the both of you on a roll. “Or that their husbands have small dicks.” Axl burst out laughing at that one. “I have a small dick and you still love me!” You snorted with laughter. “Axl, you’re fucking huge. I’m gonna be walking funny for a week!” Axl grinned. “Guess I’ll just have to carry you everywhere, then, baby.”

He yawned suddenly, and you smiled fondly as his eyelids started to droop. The sex must have worn him out. “Tired, baby?” Axl nodded. “I know you ordered a pizza, but I’m so sleepy.” You smiled, letting him rest his head on your chest as you stroked his hair. “Go to sleep, baby, and I’ll keep an ear out for the doorbell.” Axl frowned in concern. “You sure you don’t want to go to sleep, too?” You shook your head. “I’d rather sit here and admire you.” Axl went pink, and he shook his head in astonishment as he quickly drifted off to sleep. “I don’t deserve you.” You sighed. “You do deserve me, baby. You deserve the whole damn world and more.”

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fan-girling-101 · 3 years

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Pogue Winter

Pogues x Reader x Kooks, Rafe x Reader

Summary: After almost dying on Halloween Y/N stays with Rafe. Until he surprises her with a too expensive gift.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Rafe being a sweetheart, My sucky writing, I think that’s it

Thank you @thisismynerdyself who let me use her story which was part one. This is part two there’s going to be a part three and maybe four. Please go check her out and read the original. And thank you for letting me use it. This is all my writing, also if you read the first then second chapter the writing style is completely different.

Part one here

Original part one here

Her Tumblr

Imagine he’s dressed up not sweety in awe of how you look

The next few days I’ve been quiet, not talking to many people, mostly just Rafe, I haven’t even answered JJ. I mostly stayed in Rafe’s room reading or watching any movie on disney plus. Rafe got some clothes from Sarah for me to wear, Ward and Rose had no idea someone else was in their house. I guess that would happen if you never pay attention to your son.

“Hey Pumpkin.” Rafe called making me look up from Harry Potter: Prisoner of Azkaban book in my lap. “I wanted to go golfing with Topper and Kelce, but I don’t want to leave you alone, so do you want to come?”

“Do I want to come watch the most boring sport, if it can even be called that, in the world?” I looked out the window thinking for a moment before answering with a sure.

“Ok it’s not boring.” I rolled my eyes walking over to Rafe. “You keep telling yourself that.” I pat his shoulder walking around him to grab some clothes to change into.

“It’s not!”

♛

We’ve been at the golf course for what feels like an eternity, but probably only an hour or less. The boys are golfing while I sit in the golf cart, tempted to drive away and go anywhere but here, reading my Harry Potter book. The sun makes it almost too hot to bear, It’s November for God sakes stop being so hot.

“Come, I’m gonna teach you how to golf.” Rafe grabs my hand pulling me up and over to the golf tee. Handing me a golf club, I stand there not making a move to actually golf. “How hard can it be to hit a ball with a club?” I ask, laughing and going to walk back to my book.

“Pretty hard Y/N,” Topper said, hitting a ball himself that went super far. I roll my eyes hitting the ball Rafe so kindly set up for me. The ball ended up going further than Topper’s so I smirked at him and walked away. “Beginners luck.” He muttered.

♛

Over the next few weeks Rafe has been taking my golfing with him just the two of us. He says I could be amazing if I tried. I rolled my eyes everytime but went along anyway. By now I couldn’t really remember why we ever hated each other. Well I mean I know he was always kinda mean to friends, who I haven’t spoken to in a long time, but I can’t remember one time he said something mean to me. Ever.

It was now Christmas time, I was still living in secret with Rafe and if you’re wondering where my parents are. Right when I turned 16 I got emancipated. Their idea, not mine, not that I wanted to stick around with them. So back to Christmas, Christmas in the Outerbanks means the annual Winter Ball.

“So Y/N/N what are you doing December 18th.” Rafe asks me, coming to lie on his bed with me. His smile told me he was planning something, and I couldn’t tell if I wanted to be a part of it. “Come on Pumpkin, it's not a hard question. 18th are you or are you not doing anything.”

“Well…. Let me check my schedule.” I pretend to pull out my phone. “Hmm.. well the 18th that's a Monday meaning, one o'clock, wallow in self pity. Four thirty, stare into the abyss. Five o'clock, solve world hunger; tell no one. Five thirty, jazz-ercise. Six thirty, dinner with me. I can't cancel that again! Seven o'clock, wrestle with my self-loathing… I'm booked! Well if I bump the loathing to nine I could still be done in time To lay in bed and stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness…”

“So you’re free. Good.” I shake my head at him letting him continue anyways. “December 18th is actually a Friday, also the day of the Winter Ball. So Y/N L/N will you come to the winter masquerade ball my me?”

“Rafe-”

“That doesn't sound promising.” He pouts looking at me sadly trying to get me to guilt me into coming.

“You didn’t let me finish. Why would you want to bring me? I don’t know if you’re aware but I’m a pogue, your sworn enemy. And being a pogue means I have no money, no money means no dress, no dress means no Y/N at Winter Ball. It’s really just logic.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to bring the most gorgeous girl in the universe to the winter ball.” A blush found its way to my cheeks, making me look down. “Also I already planned for you to come so…” He gets up leaving the room for a second and when he comes back he has a sparkling red dress. I was beautiful.

“Rafe-” I gasp looking at the beautiful dress. “I-I can’t take that. That probably cost you a fortune, Rafe I could never repay you for it. I mean when did you even. That cost more than my whole house and things combined.

“Y/N I don’t need to be repaid. Take it. At least try it on please.” He hands me the dress leaving the room. I reluctantly put the dress on facing the mirror looking at how the dress flowed. I couldn't help but smile. A soft knock on the door of Rafe asking if he can come in.

“If you’re making me do this I don’t want you to see me on the dress until the ball.” I heard the groan from outside the door.

“Fine but I have your shoes, mask, necklace and earrings.”

Full outfit

“Rafe! I’m gonna owe you for the rest of my life and more.”

“I don’t want anything, just take them please.” I open the door just enough to grab the stuff quickly putting it all on. “Sarah helped me find everything one night while you were asleep, the shoes took the longest, or I would have asked you sooner instead of a week's notice. Does everything fit, I was scared it would be too big, or small. Or you would hate the color. Or the style of it. It took me almost three nights to find that one, it had the prefect and I needed Sarah and Wezzie to say it looked good and you would like it.”

“Rafe shut up I love it ok. It fits perfectly, the shoes are my size, I love the color,and the style is beautiful. Stop panicking ok.” I open the door dressed back in my Christmas pajama pants and Rafe’s old football jersey. “Come on, ice cream my treat. And I’m driving your truck.”

The whole way there Rafe was acting like a scared mom in the car with their child. Telling me to slow down. I was an amazing driver, he was just paranoid. Sure I was a little reckless but I’m also too good to ever get in a crash.

We go through the drive thru Rafe ordering a plan oreo, while I got a candy cane ice cream because Chritmas time is here bitches! As I pull up pay I grab my cash going to give it to Matt a tenth grade that I go to school with. Out of nowhere Rafe reaches over to hand Matt his own money.

“Rafe!”

“I can't let you pay what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pay.”

“The kind that already bought me a dress, shoes, and jewelry.”

♛

Soon enough the 18th came, Sarah, Weezie, Rose and I were all getting ready in Sarah’s room. Rose was so excited when she heard Rafe was bringing someone, never once had Rafe brought someone to a kook event. When she found out it was me I saw the fake smile with clenched teeth.

Sarah had me sit down on her vanity chair to do my makeup. I told her to do whatever would look nice with my dress. When she finished she started my hair curling my hair and braiding some small red flowers into my hair to match my dress and give me a pogue type look with the random small braids. Rose did everything for Weezie and after the two of us sat on Sarah’s bed playing a card game while Rose and Sarah got themselves ready.

Sarah’s Outfit

Weezie’s Outfit

I knew Kie was coming of course with her parents, Pope was coming to help his dad and John B was Sarah’s date. But I had no idea if JJ was going, usually the two of us would sit around drinking and smoking while the others were at the fancy parties, or on a rare occasion we’d crash the party, while being drunk and high. I haven’t spoken to any of them in a long time. I felt bad, really bad. I mean JJ was my best friend, basically a brother to me.

We all had our dresses and me, Sarah and Weezie started taking instagram pictures all dressed up. I say I was nervous was an understatement. I mean I was going to a kook party dressed as one of them. I was going with Rafe fucking Cameron, the kookist of all kooks.

Weezie and Rose left when Ward called us down. I started fiddling with my freshly painted nails. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Sarah. “Don’t be so nervous, if you get bored of my brother and his boring friends me and Weezie will come and save you. We have a secret place we go to.” She gives me a reassuring smile giving me a small hug.

“You go down, I'll be there in a sec. I have to mentally prepare for this.” She laughs leaving the room and heading down with everyone else. I pace the room a little before heading down myself.

Rafe’s POV

We all stand in the front room waiting for Y/N. I hear heels clicking on the stairs as someone walks down. I eagerly look at the stairs waiting for the girl that’s been living with me for over a month. The one who I always thought was beautiful. The one who deserves the world and more. The one I think I fell in love with. When the person came into view the excitement fell from my face seeing Sarah instead of Y/N.

“Sorry to disappoint.” She laughs going to stand with Weezie whispering things in her ear. “This is why you don’t bring someone like her.” My dad sighed clearly, not happy with having to wait.

“What do you mean ‘someone like her’?” I ask him. “Someone who’s never been to anything important in their life. We’re going to be late. Next time invite someone with some social class. If this was some way to piss me off congratulations Rafe you’ve done it.”

I would have yelled at him, I would have told him to shut up. But I head the soft click of heels on marble. This time I knew it was Y/N. I completely forgot about what was said about her. I couldn’t wait to see her all dressed up. The only time I’ve seen her in a dress was when she’d crash our formal parties. It was always the same one, a peach sundress.

When I saw her in front of me I had no words, everything else suddenly didn’t matter. I didn’t hear when everyone else went to the car. All I could see was Y/N, she looked like a goddess. No one was more perfect. Her Y/H/C hair was lightly curled with flowers braided into it. To be fair Y/N would look perfect in anything, and nothing.

I lied before, I don’t think I’m in love with her…

I am in love with her.

#obx #obx imagine #Outer Banks #outerbanks #outerbanks imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #obx x reader #obx x y/n #sarah cameron #pogue life #pogue style #kook #christmastime

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sery-chan-13 · 3 years

Text

With The Memories

Chapter 3 to '100 Promises'

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Warnings: Swearing, violence, weapons, bullying, blood.

"Haha, come on (Y/N)! You don't want to miss this, do you?" The boy shouted excitedly. You two had gotten permission to go off to a festival by yourselves. He had been on a trip with his parents for two weeks, and it would be the first time you two saw each other since then. You giggled, running down the stairs. "No, give me a second!" You shouted back, basically jumping into his arms. He laughed as you hugged him, burying your head into the crook of his neck. "I missed you! I'm so glad you're back," you said gleefully. He smiled, letting you go to push up his glasses. "Well, let's get going," he said. You nodded, grabbing his hand as you two walked through the crowded streets of Tokyo.

"And there was this really cool arcade with tons of games! I was really surprised that they even let me go, but it was more of a way for me to let them have alone time. Well, it was more mom's idea than dad's, but still, I want to take you there one day!" He excitedly rambled about his trip. Over the past year, Niragi's mother had noticed the way she treated you and her son was wrong on so many levels. So, she apologized to you, saying that she knew what she had done was wrong, and that it was ok if you didn't forgive her. Forgiveness wasn't something that came easy to you, especially when it was someone who had wronged you so much. But once you saw that she was trying to change and making an effort be better, you did. "Aww, that's so cool Gigi!" You shouted. "(Y/N) that nickname is so embarrassing..." he muttered, the tips of his ears turning pink. You laughed softly, apologizing.

You two had walked around, going on different rides, and trying different games. You had won a lot of games, and so had Niragi. "I'll trade you 5 ring pops for your sour patch kids," you said, holding them out to him. "Hmm... ok!" He said, switching the sweets with you.

The last game Niragi played, he had decided to give the prize to you. "Oh, is that your girlfriend?" The person tending to the game stall asked. You both shook your heads. "My apologies, well, you won so pick your prize young man," they said. Niragi, being more attentive than most, saw how you had looked at one of the stuffed animals on the wall. He pointed to it, and they got it down for him. They winked at him, whispering a 'good luck', before letting you two on your way. "Here you go, (N/N)," he said, giving it to you. Your eyes lit up with joy. "You're giving it to me? But you won the game," you asked, hugging it tightly. "Because you deserve it. I left you for two weeks," he smiled, patting your head. "Thank you!" You chirped, grabbing his hand, leading him to other places around the festival.

Niragi stood on the roof after Chishiya left, remembering the memory. It had only been a few years ago, when you were both 16. Could you really be here in the Borderlands? Or did Chishiya find out about you through someone, and now was using you as a way to piss him off? Or as a way to find a weakness in him? He looked out towards the people partying below. "All so pathetic. Having a party every day, every night as if none of them die. As if none of them could die right now," he scoffed out loud to himself. He tried to make his mind think of anything else, but he couldn't. She was the only thing on his mind. The girl who had been by his side for years.

"Niragi! Where are you? This isn't funny anymore, come out!" You yelled into the darkness of the empty park. You two had started a game of hide and seek, but it had gotten late, and yous still hadn't found him. You began to worry about what had happened to him, but pushed the thoughts aside, beginning to look more. "Niragi! Niragi Suguru, if you don't come out, I'm leaving and the next time I see you, I'll beat your dumbass!" You threatened, feeling frightened of the darkness. There were a few streetlamps, which only made it creepier to you. You heard boisterous laughter and yelling, and decided to go find what was causing it. Maybe it was Niragi? You sped walk over to the noise, it getting louder as you went. You tried to walk as fast, but as quiet as you could. You walked closer, seeing it was the guys from school. You looked up the tree they kept throwing things at, seeing Niragi up there. You gasped quietly, looking around, seeing what you could do. You saw one of them had left their baseball bat over where you were, and grabbed it. You put it over your shoulder, walking to where they could see you. "Don't you have anything better to do?" You asked, looking disgusted at them. Niragi's eyes widened with excitement. He knew you were not a delicate little flower, and as much as he hated to admit it, you were braver than he ever was.

"Aw, look it's his little girlfriend," one of them taunted. "What are you? Five? And if I was? At least he would have one," you laughed. One of the boys charged at you, going to grab you, but you quickly swung the baseball bat at his arm. You heard a cracking noise, and laughed, hearing him howl in pain, rolling on the floor. The noise wasn't sickening to you. It made you feel... in control. "Strike 1!" You shouted, looking at Niragi with a smile. He laughed as well, seeing the people who tortured you two feel pain. Another one of them had thrown a rock at you, which you easily dogged. "Do better!" You taunted. Another one of them had tried to hit you, getting to close. You swung your bat, hitting him in the head. "Strike 2!" Niragi shouted from the tree, watching to see if you needed his help. He saw you smile at him again. He would help if you asked him to. But, he also knew how much fun you had putting people in their place. Well, outside of your house anyways.

You laughed, seeing as they were scared now. "You bitch!" The second to last boy yelled, throwing another rock at you. You smiled, hitting it back with the bat. It hit his nose, and he yelped in pain. You watched as blood dripped from his nose, onto his lip, and on to the ground below. "Strike three, you're out!" Both you and Niragi taunted together. The leader of the group, or as you like to call him, the biggest idiot of the group, was the last one left. He pulled something out of his pocket. "People like you piss me off. You always think you're so good until someone else has the upper hand. You've spent the last 3 years of our lives tormenting us, and now we finally have the courage to stand up for ourselves. No more defenseless little girl. No more playing nice," you said. Niragi noticed him pull something from his pocket, and quietly jumped down from the tree. He walked behind, and you saw him. Watching his movements. "You think you know it all. But I bet you didn't see this coming!" The guy yelled, pulling the pocket knife out, charging at you. 'Child's play' you thought, waiting for him to get closer before you threw the bat towards Niragi. He caught it, and you smiled psychotically, crouching down quickly. Niragi threw the bat, and it fell just in front of the boy. He didn't have time to stop his attack, so he tripped over the bat. You heard a scream, and looked over, seeing the knife had gone through his hand. Both you and Niragi laughed watching him squirm in pain. You two watched as blood poured out onto the floor bellow him. "Karma's a sweet woman!" You shouted, walking over to Niragi. He high-fived you with a laugh. "Just to be nice, I'm going to give you advice, don't pull out that knife, and go to the hospital. And don't mention us, because you will live long enough to regret it," you smirked, walking off with Niragi.

Niragi found himself laughing at the memory. "I was so useless in that instance... but her? No way. She'll survive here, I know it," he said to himself. He remembered how he thought you looked like a goddess in that moment. A saving grace for him. Not an angel, because you were far from holy, but a goddess of... well, he liked to call it karma. "Maybe... maybe I don't have to wait for a game to see her. If I know her, I know where she is," he whispered to himself. If anyone could survive these games, it would be you.

Last Boss had come up besides him. "My patrol is over?" Niragi guessed, looking at the man besides him. He only nodded. "Alrighty, well, good luck, I might be out late tonight, but don't worry because I'll be back with someone who could be highly useful to us," Niragi said. "Who might that be?'' Last Boss asked, quite curious. "(L/N) (Y/N). The most badass and clever girl I've ever met," Niragi stated with a smirk. "Is she good with weapons?" He asked. Niragi nodded. He knew you were skilled with those things. The world had let you to be. "Well, you should be telling Aguni and Hatter, not me, but she sounds interesting," Last Boss commented.

Niragi walked to the room where he expected Aguni and Hatter to be. They were there, sitting at the table, drinking some kind of liquor. "Hey, I got word from Chishiya of a talented player. I know who she is, what she can do, and have an idea of where she might be. I'm going out to find her, and bring her back here," Niragi said as soon as he went into the room. Hatter smiled his usual charming smile. "Her name? What relation she has to you and how long you've known her, as well as the skills you say she has?" Aguni questioned, keeping the stoic look on his face. "(L/N) (Y/N), I've known her for 8 almost 9 years, she's skilled in weapons, reading people, and quite intelligent as well as clever. She doesn't get attached easily, and would sacrifice others to achieve her goals, so a potentially strong player for hearts and diamonds games," Niragi stated. "Ooh, how interesting! I like her already. If you can find her bring her back, I'm sure she'd be quite good for the militals, wouldn't she?" Hatter asked, looking over at Aguni, who nodded. Niragi smirked, nodding and heading out.

Oh wow, what's this? (Y/N) isn't a scared little baby who can't do anything for herself? That's right bitches! (Your all very lovely, don't worry^_^) I got tired of (Y/N) always being a crybaby and being to weak for her own good, so we are attempting to make her a Harley Quinn type character, with the confidence of the boys at my school who thought I'd say yes when they asked me out, and the badass attitude of... well... me? I don't know, all I'm saying is, she isn't going to all like "Help me! I can't do anything for myself and everything scares me!" Kind of character. It's totally ok if your (Y/N) is like that, it's just I didn't want mine to be like that. No hate to anyone who makes theirs like what I described, you guys are amazing nonetheless!

#alice in borderland #niragi #×reader #fluff #angst #100 Promises

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pastelsandpining · 3 years

Text

Santa Baby (Christmas List)

The second prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts

Prompt List

**Note: For the stories actually involving Christmas, I and a few other authors changed the holiday to Hylia’s Day (credit to @fatefulfaerie for this) so that it’s more relevant to Hyrule

Cover Art: @neezlebums be sure to show some love to the original here!

Words: 2264

Summary: For their first Hylia’s Day together after everything that happened, Link just wanted to gift Zelda something special.

**If I don’t have explicit warnings, read with caution. It simply means there’s nothing I could think of that could be potentially triggering, but I could’ve just missed something. In that case, please let me know and I’ll be more than happy to put a warning!**

BotW, post-calamity with angry child Eggbert because I said so

Zelink-mas 2020 l Masterlist

Relearning everything about his past and about Hyrule was no easy feat. A world that was so familiar yet so foreign still left him unsettled at times, because he was a young adult trying to understand the things that nearly everyone else grew up with. It was fascinating to learn about traditions and holidays and how they came to be, and he did genuinely want to know everything he once knew and more.

It was how he’d ended up awake until the break of dawn, listening to Zelda tell stories of Hyrule’s past. She was in her element when she got to research or explore or teach. Watching her was something he felt incredibly lucky to do, much less sit so close to her on the bed while they poured over books. He wanted to be as prepared as possible.

He’d heard of Hylia’s Day before, but it would be his first time experiencing it (that he could remember). Zelda explained it as a celebration of love and giving, of friendship and of victory. She told him of the festivals they used to hold, and the balls they’d been forced to attend, and of the parties they used to have. She told him of the traditions of gift giving and of family gathering.

And when they finally settled down to sleep, Link asked her what she wanted for Hylia’s Day. She replied just as she always did—that she already had all she could ever want.

It didn’t stop him from trying, though. He brought it up at the most nonchalant of times, during breakfast or trips across the kingdom. He would listen intently every time she spoke, more so than usual, and tried to pick up on any instance of an “I want”. Only once did she give a direct answer, saying she wanted a Silent Princess.

Link was not satisfied with that. It wasn’t special enough, so he took it upon himself to fill Zelda’s nonexistent Hylia’s Day List.

He didn’t expect to feel as nervous as he did when the day actually came around.

“How does this look?” came the voice of Zelda from behind him. Link paused the stirring of his soup to turn around and answer her question. She’d been adjusting the decorations all morning, no matter how many times he’d promised her they looked fine.

“It looks perfect,” he replied. “Just like everything else.”

“Well, good, because I want this to be perfect,” she said, making her way to his side. “It’s the first Hylia’s Day we’ve had since—the first I’ve had outside of a castle. Getting to decorate and set everything up however you want is incredibly stressful. I want our friends to be comfortable and happy.”

“You worry too much,” stated Link in return, bumping her with his shoulder.

“I happen to worry a perfectly healthy amount, for your information.”

He chuckled and turned back to his task at hand: finishing up their dishes for the celebration. The traditions called for a family gathering, and their family was large in both number and size. A little extra wouldn’t hurt, even if their friends were all bringing their own dishes.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he continued. Zelda’s cheeks flushed, even after a hundred years, and it made him want to smile. He loved when she wore things that were too big for her, including the white sweater that she had to keep pulling the sleeves up on because they were too long. The golden linings made it look fancier than it really was, but she called it comfortable on more than one occasion and it was soft to the touch, so it was one of his favorites too.

“Thank you,” she replied, hugging his arm. “I dressed myself and everything.”

“Wow, impressive,” he stated, pulling his arm free so that he could take the bread out of the oven. He didn’t miss the roll of her eyes before she turned back to the tree tucked into the corner.

“I can’t help thinking something’s missing,” she said. Link placed the pan on a rack before turning to face her again, reaching for one of her hands.

“It’s perfect,” he repeated, spinning her to face him. “The only thing missing is a star at the top, but I don’t think you’d fit.”

She gave his hand a gentle swat and huffed.

“You’re ridiculous.” But she was smiling anyway, and that was enough of a gift for him. He considered pulling her closer, spinning her around and trying to get her to laugh, but there was a knock on the door before he could. Link let go of her hand so she could answer it, and he was unsurprised to see Purah bouncing on her feet at the door, with Symin behind her carrying a far too large bag, probably full of presents.

“Check it!” she exclaimed--her form of a greeting, apparently. “Happy Hylia’s Day, you rascals! I’ve been looking forward to this all year!”

“Purah,” Zelda greeted. “It’s lovely to see you again!”

“You can put the bag down here,” Link told Symin, gesturing to the area under the stairs after shutting the door, keeping the cold outside. Now that Purah had stolen Zelda away for some excited conversation about Sheikah technology, Link had an opening. “Did Robbie manage to.. do the thing?”

“Fix it up? Yeah, I heard he and Purah talking last night. He was able to restore it, but I don’t know if it’ll have all the same functions as before,” Symin answered, his voice lowered to keep anyone from hearing. Some tension in Link’s shoulders relaxed. That was one thing checked off the list—the one thing he was really nervous about.

“I’m gonna owe Robbie an entire decayed guardian for this.”

“He’ll take payments in increments.”

Link snorted and shook his head. As eccentric as Robbie was, he was positive the Sheikah would try and refuse payment. But Link didn’t exactly need his permission to haul a decayed guardian up to Akkala’s Tech Lab, so it would turn out either way. He just hoped, with a glance towards Zelda, that it was the right gift.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Symin asked.

“You could take coats by the door,” Link joked as another knock echoed through their house.

He was pleased to see Sidon, Impa, and Paya were the next to arrive. But he didn’t get much of a greeting out before Sidon, crouching to get through the door, lifted him from the floor in a crushing hug.

“Happy Hylia’s Day, Link! Lovely to see you!”

All Link could really do was pat Sidon’s shoulder in return until his feet were returned to the ground.

The arrivals began increasing faster than he expected, with Teba and his family arriving next—with Kass in tow, of course.

“I’m worried we won’t have enough space,” Zelda stated suddenly, scaring the living daylights out of him. “We could move it outside, but we’d need a fire. I’m sure the Rito are fine with the cold, but we could give everyone else some blankets and coats. Do Zora get cold?”

“I don’t think so,” Link replied, furrowing his eyebrows. “The water in East Reservoir Lake wasn’t exactly warm, and Ruta hurling ice blocks at us didn’t make it any better.” He was still bitter that he didn’t think to use Cryonsis until he’d already been knocked off of Sidon twice.

“But the Zora are used to water, so perhaps they’re used to the cold as well.”

“Why don’t we just ask?” Link pointed out, bumping her with his shoulder. “We have a Zora.”

“You say that like Sidon is a pet,” Zelda scolded, crossing her arms.

“He’s basically a huge Hylian Retriever, yes.”

“Besides, would it be rude?”

Link grinned and ruffled her hair as he said, “Nothing is rude in the name of science.”

“Except eating a frog, apparently,” Zelda bit back, swatting at his hand.

“Oh, let it go,” he laughed. “I ate tons of frogs.”

“And?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow with a smug smile.

“You were right.”

“What are you two love birds talking about?” Sidon asked, and Link jumped for the second time that day. How could someone so large sneak up on him so easy, even if there was a good bit of noise in the house?

“Sidon!” Zelda said quickly, her cheeks flushed with pink. “We were just discussing moving everything outside.”

“Brilliant idea! Do you need help moving anything?”

Link thought of assuring Sidon he was a guest and didn’t need to lift a finger, but apparently those gears in Zelda’s head were turning.

“No, but we have a few extra strings of fairy lights,” she replied, tapping her chin. “We could put lights on the tree outside!”

“You,” Sidon said as he picked her up. “are a little genius, Princess! Everyone, outside!”

Link hardly got a word in before they were out the door. All he could do was laugh at them with a warm smile. This was more than he ever could’ve wanted.

“It’s good to see you happy.”

Kass was smiling at him, just in that way where he looked like he knew all he was thinking.

“Holiday cheer,” Link replied with a shrug, but Kass hummed.

“Ah, yes. Holiday cheer and nothing to do with dear Zelda.”

“Well,” Link sputtered, glancing towards the door everyone else had gone out of. “She helps. How’s, uh, how’s your song coming?”

“Rather well, actually. I think she’ll be pleased with it. Come, we’re missing all the fun.”

And Kass was right. Riju and Teba’s son were chasing each other around the pond, occasionally being joined by other village children, and Yunobo was being used as a rock pile to climb over in the process—not that he looked to mind it much. Buliara was observing carefully from her perch on the ramp, discussing something with Teba and Saki, and he was pleased to see they were all smiling.

Impa was busy scolding Purah for something, and Robbie was coming to her defense, and whatever Symin had interrupted with made them all laugh.

And then, to his (pleasant) horror, he found Zelda and Paya up in the tree, wrapping strings of lights around the bare branches. Sidon was underneath, wrapping another string around the trunk. They were having far too much fun with it.

Zelda spotted him from her perch and waved, and he had no choice but to join them in the decorating.

A little later into the evening, they sat around a campfire that turned out to be a joint effort and swapped various stories while they ate—stories about the Champions, who were there in spirit, about troubles they’ve solved, and other funny recalls of their lives. Link tried to listen, but his attention shifted every time he saw Zelda next to him with a smile on her face.

A gathering so wonderful wasn’t complete without swapping gifts. They’d given and received so many things, but Link chose to wait until everyone was finished to approach Zelda with his gift. Upon seeing the big box, she lifted an eyebrow.

“Alright. I know a Silent Princess isn’t this big, so what could you have possibly gotten me?” she asked, sitting in front of the crate. Link only shrugged and gestured for her to open it up.

Her careful fingers pulled the ribbon apart and she took the lid with both hands. He watched her closely, nervous for what her reaction would be.

Zelda was quiet for a moment, her eyes locked on the contents of the box. When she lifted her head to look at him at last, there were tears glistening in the firelight.

“Where did you find him?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“He was in that same crate on a shelf in your study. I brought it to Robbie and he was able to restore it,” he explained as he pressed the Sheikah Slate into her hands. Zelda tapped the screen with trembling fingers, and he bit back the urge to take her hand.

A soft beep filled the air and a blue light burst from the crate. A metal claw gripped the edge of the box, then a blue eye appeared and flipped its lid in greeting.

Zelda pressed a hand over her mouth and reached the other out towards the little guardian they’d found and studied all those years ago. It beeped again, pleased with her recognition, then scuttled out from the crate.

“It’s in near perfect condition. How did it get..?” But she decided she didn’t care and instead wrapped her arms tightly around Link, whispering out a million thank you’s. All he could do was press a kiss to her head and hold her close.

There were so many things he’d wanted to give her. There were so many things he wanted to say. But he knew of her love for the ancient technology, and he knew of her love for him.

Even if her list hadn’t truly existed, he wanted to give her something special. He wanted to give her everything and more, but for now, he was okay just giving her comfort that he remembered.

He remembered her, and he remembered their adventures, and he remembered her interests.

He remembered.

And by the kiss she’d given him, to the delight and cheering of the others, he thought it turned out to be the perfect gift after all.

Well, until the little guardian butted in with its opinion in not so polite beeps, but some things simply couldn’t be helped.

#zelink #botw link #botw zelda #botw zelink #christmas prompts #zelink prompts #my writing #eggbert said this was supposed to be his reunion dammit link #stop stealing his thunder

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weasleyslag · 3 years

Text

i’m not coming home | p.w

summary: A collection of letters between Percy and his girlfriend Penelope Clearwater following his estrangement from his family.

pairing(s): Percy Weasley/Penelope Clearwater

wc: 6.2k (lol I’m sorry)

warning(s): heavy cursing, hella toxic relationship, no happy ending

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30644294

Dear Percy,

See, I told you I would write! I really am so proud of you and your new job. I hope you’ll allow me to come visit your new apartment soon. I know you’re very busy, but maybe not too busy for me? My dad told me he’d pay for my stay in London if you invited me, but I think it’d be more fun for me to stay with you and go to a show or something. I heard there’s some good muggle performances down there, I’d be interested to see that sort of thing. It’d be an good change, I’m up to my head with wizards that think they’re so talented.

Please tell me all you can about your job when you write back! I know it must be super under wraps, being the Junior Assistant to Fudge himself, but I would be interested in knowing the most mundane of things you can tell me, it would most certainly be more enthralling than the highlight of any of my days. I was hoping I’d be promoted to something more dignified by now, but they’ve still got me watching over some of the Ministry workers’ children. You know I like kids, but I’d rather not be a glorified babysitter. There’s not even many learning activities I can do with them, I’m pretty much instructed to do puppet shows and other silly tasks for them all day. Hopefully someone recognizes my potential soon. Maybe since you work with Fudge now, you can say something to him???

I hate to turn this letter sour but Fred and George have gotten into contact with me this week. They’re really worried about you. They said that they’ve all written to you and the letters are always sent back, unopened. You must know this hurts them, why don’t you at least read the letters? You know they love you and I know that you really are kind at heart; you must still have love for them. I know it must have been hard for you to hear that after all your efforts, your dad doesn’t believe you’re capable of receiving such a prestigious job on your own merits. But of course they are all paranoid, what with all that happened last Spring. I hope you can find it within yourself to be the bigger person and reconcile with your family. Maybe they’ve even apologized in their letters, you’ll never know unless you read them. Don’t read Fred’s though, he’s more mad than the rest of them. I’m sure he’s thrown every name in the book at you.

I hope my next letter will be in better spirits. I hope Hermes is doing well and I hope even more so that you will adjust to life in London well.

With Love,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I cannot express with words how excited I was to receive your owl. I hope you don’t mind that I kept her for a few days, Hermes adores her and she reminds me of you. However, I also had to keep her back because it took quite some time to give you an adequate response to everything you said in your letter.

Hermes and I are well. He hasn’t adjusted as well as I have, but I understand. The air is polluted and there’s not much room for him to roam. There’s no forests in sight, only a bunch of buildings. If I wasn’t taking your letters, I would send him back to the Burrow. He was happier there and besides, the ministry has provided me a new owl for business letters.

I, on the other hand, am doing the best I ever have been. I am extremely efficient with my work and I appear to be pleasing my superiors. In my off time, I watch live shows and read. I have been getting into some Muggle classics, like War and Peace. Their culture is quite interesting, although ours is clearly superior. I am glad I am nourishing my mind as much as I can, I only wish there wasn’t so much noise outside my apartment. Jackhammers and traffic is all l I hear all day. It gets old fast. I’m not sure if you would like it here, but I would be happy to have you if you wish to visit. Although, I thought about your proposal to stay with me and I must decline. I would love to and I am sure my hormones would have a field day, but your father wants you to stay somewhere else and merely visit me during the day, trying to trick him would be wrong. I am sorry, but rules are rules, even when it comes to you.

I will speak with Fudge about your employment. I am a bit nervous to do so but I think he likes me, so I will certainly try. You’re a very smart girl and I believe if they just took notice of how you applied yourself, they’d move you up the ranks swiftly. It would be a shame to let such an academic be reduced to a daycare worker. That seems like something my mum would do if she worked. And you certainly surpass her when it comes to brains and ambition.

Dismayed is an understatement for how I feel knowing that my family has taken advantage of our relationship to try to shake me. I do not wish to speak to them now, I will only speak to them when they realize that I am right, which I hope won’t be much longer. You’re right, of course, I do have love for them, even Fred and George, but I can not continue a relationship with people that discount my accomplishments and constantly laugh at my expense. Reading their letters is pointless. I read the first letter I received from Charlie and although he tried to be eloquent, he still wasn’t seeing things my way. He was basically just regurgitating everything my dad had said, just in a kinder way. He and Bill have always been the most sensible so I see no point in attempting to read the other letters, they will only be worse versions of Charlie’s. I will admit that curiosity got the better of me, however. A letter from Fred came in the same day as yours. You were right, it was awful. I shouldn’t have expected anything more, however, that boy is barely literate. Here is a snippet of his abomination of a letter (I have fixed the spelling mistakes, there’s no reason to subject you to that):

“You are a massive cunt, you know that? After all mum and dad have done for you. Seriously? I can’t even call you a prat anymore, that’s just an insult to prat’s. You’re a slag for Fudge and we all know it. If you wanted to give him a good rimming, you could have just said so instead of causing us all this grief. Well not me, I don’t give one fuck about you. You could be in a ditch tomorrow for all I care. And maybe you will be, Fudge and his friends would just as well see you there as in an office. How could you choose him over your own mother? I hope you’re happy that you make her cry every night. I hear that you get paid three times dad’s salary and you have sent home not one knut. But twats like you don’t care about their family, huh? Enjoy your cushy apartment, I hope when you open the windows, a pigeon flies in and takes a shit on your head.”

Isn’t it just terrible? And it’s all one huge paragraph too, with unbearably non-flowy sentences. He is a right idiot if he thinks I’d ever want to respond to that. And why would I want to send money to people who treat me like that, anyway? I can’t put myself into his pea brain so I guess I will never know. Please make me take your advice next time so that I won’t have to subject myself to that kind of torture.

As for what happened this Spring, I’d rather not talk about it. The Ministry says that you-know-who is not back, so I’m afraid Harry must have been lying. Perhaps he had a fever and hallucinated the whole thing. I don’t hate him, by the way. I know my family must be trying to convince you of that but it is just not true. I think he is foolish and many adults are using him as a pawn. It’s sad, really. My family has gotten so desperate that they made Hermione and Harry write me letters too. I had already been informed by Fudge himself to turn over any correspondence from Harry, so of course I did that. I do wish I had the forethought to read the letter first, I’m very curious about it now, but oh well.

I care for you very much and hope we can arrange a visit soon.

With Even More Love,

Percy

Dear Percy,

I was hoping this letter would be more positive than the ones we have exchanged lately and that perhaps we could even arrange my trips to London, but I have gotten some terrible news. And I will not believe it until you confirm it.

There is a nasty rumour going around that you are to be court scribe for the Wizengamot in Harry’s trial. Say it isn’t true, Percy! I know it’s such an honor to work so closely with the Wizengamot, you’d be the youngest person in all of history to work as a scribe for them. But at what cost? Harry is your friend. I’ve been spending more and more time with your family and I consider Harry to be a friend now, too. I know the details of the case, and I’m sure you must since you’re apparently working it. Even if you don’t care for him, you must understand that objectively, Harry is in the right, at least morally. He was saving his cousin. The cousin that he grew up with and besides the kid being an absolute terror, he was basically his brother. Wouldn’t you cast magic to save your brothers or sister? How can you work for a case like that when you know you’d do the same as Harry?

I love you, I really do, and that’s why this breaks my heart so much. You’re turning into something that you aren’t for the sake of ambition. Please don’t do this. Come home and if Fudge truly does value you as much as you think, he will continue working with you even after you are on good terms with your family again. You must be missing them, aren’t you?

I will have to postpone the trip to London until you get all this figured out. I hope you understand. I am always open for you to come back here to visit me. We could all meet for dinner at the Burrow, where you belong.

I don’t have much else to say. I’m scared about what’s happening in the world and I’m nervous for you. I miss you, but I’m not sure if the you I miss is still you.

P.S: Tell Hermes I love him.

xxxx,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

You have heard right, at least about the Wizengamot. I beg of you not to let my family poison your mind. Clearly, they want everyone to think I’m a terrible person. If they had it their way, we wouldn’t even be together right now. It’s not their fault, really, they suffer from cognitive dissonance, but they only think with their heart. That’s not sustainable and most certainly not how the world works. The court specifically wants me to be scribe and like you acknowledged, that is a huge honor. This is really going to help me get ahead even further. You know I have big dreams. I’d like to be the Minister one day and having all this under my belt would be a big help.

I really am not allowed to be discussing the case with the public, but I suppose I will make a tiny exception for you. I can’t help but have a soft spot for you; I musn’t make bending the rules for you a habit. You’re lucky I’m even physically able to say anything. The Ministry is heavily monitoring all the mail that comes in and out from high ranking members, but they haven’t done that with me yet (as far as I know, at least). I guess it must be because I’ve been so loyal and I won’t even receive my family’s letters, so they trust me. Little do they know that I have a weakness for you.

As of right now, I’m not too worried about Harry (of course, they might change when court is in session and I get all the details). I think his case makes sense. I’ve poured through court cases similar to this one, although the defendants were never as much of a public figurehead as Harry (but that shouldn’t matter, the Wizengamot is totally unbiased and will not take Harry’s fame into account when deciding a verdict), and every court case similar to this ended in a not guilty verdict. I am not sitting as a court scribe to try to lock Harry away, it’s just my job. I don’t approve of him, but let’s not pretend like I never want him to see the light of day again. Anyway, I was surprised that someone that possesses your caliber of intelligence relied so hard on pathos to convince me that being a court scribe is wrong. Everyone knows emotion is a flimsy argument and certainly has no place in the courtroom. The fact that he saved a muggle’s life will definitely be brought up in court, but it won’t be because it’s someone he cares for. It’ll be because we have all sorts of laws about self defense and protecting each other, even a few about protecting muggles. I fear you might not have a place high up in the ministry if you continue preferring pathos to logos. And anyway, you trying to my emotion by bringing up my family makes no sense. My family are wizards, so if it came down to it, I could protect them and it wouldn’t be against the law. It’s not my fault that my family is better than those Dursley’s.

I really must beg of you to stay away from my family and especially from Harry. That will probably not end well for you. Do not mistake that for a threat, I’d never hurt you, but I’m being realistic. Harry is off the rails and my family blindly believes him. In my opinion, Harry needs to be in a mental hospital, not roaming around as a public figure where everyone hangs on to his every word. He clearly suffers from PTSD after all he went through as a child between his parents being murdered in front him, a very powerful dark wizard trying to to murder him, and the muggle abuse he endured. And that’s not even mentioning all the pressure the world, especially Dumbledore, has put on him. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just insane. If the adults around him cared as much as they say they do, they’d put him away for a while until he can heal. But they won’t, that’s the problem. And now I hear that little Ginny is in love with him. I have never in my life been so in despair. I can’t help but think how bleak her future will be. Maybe I should write a letter to her. I doubt she’ll listen, but I do need to try.

I really do hope you decide to come visit me. Maybe I can speak with your father and come to an honest agreement about you living with me soon enough. I am really lonely here and I’ve been thinking a lot about the future. It seems my family and I will never get along again and I have no one else besides you. I have all this extra income so I think it might be practical for me to marry you. Then, you wouldn’t have to hear all this rubbish from my family in order to feel close with me. I will speak with him about it soon. It’s not really all that bad here and even if you’re not good enough to have a real job in the Ministry, that’s okay. I make enough money and I do want a lot of kids anyway. It wouldn’t be practical for you to have a demanding long term job.

Love,

Percy

Percy,

Maybe I am a sensitive fool but I found much of your letter to be highly offensive. You essentially called me unintelligent throughout the letter, then didn’t ask but rather told me that you would be marrying me (only caring about what my father would say, not me). And to top it all off, you told me I was to be your personal incubator while you get to have an actual job. It’s insulting, really. What if I don’t want to do that, did you even consider that? I care for you and I believe I always will but I am not in a place right now where I fancy marrying you. I think I’d rather tie the knot with one of twins or Charlie. Besides, I felt unsettling how you alluded to muggles being lesser beings. They most certainly are not, they’re just different than us. I don’t know how I can be with someone that sees a whole group of people as lesser than them.

I must not have too much respect for myself. After all, I felt all those things that I wrote in the first paragraph, yet I’m still writing to you. What terrible damage love can have to the brain. I think I know how this whole thing will turn out, yet I still hope against my better judgement that we will end up together. I will try to put this past me if you can promise to not be so cruel.

Things are the same as always in my life. Spending most of the time with Mother and Father and the rest tending to children. I think I might die of boredom. I have been thinking about becoming a Hogwarts teacher, at least it would be less degrading than playing babysitter for a bunch of toddlers. Curiously enough, I received a letter from Snape about receiving a position, not Flitwick. He liked me well enough back in school, but I definitely didn’t think he would ever think about contacting me for a teaching role. I didn’t think he ever thought much about any student that wasn’t a Slytherin. I think maybe he sees himself in me. You know I was treated pretty horribly throughout school and something tells me he might have gone through a similar experience. That aside, however, he wrote me a letter requesting my presence to a meeting in a few weeks. It’s a meeting with all the current teachers, so I’m quite nervous about it. They want to speak with me about a new class, I think, it wasn’t any sort of curriculum I was familiar with. Still, I’m heavily considering it. It would be a big step up. I am a little worried about moving out there, but I think I’ll be alright.

I know you act like you don’t care about how your family is doing, but that’s all it is, an act. So I will at least tell you the good parts. I’m sure you’ve seen by the addresses of the letters that they’re still sending you (because they care), they have moved. The Order has been restored, we’d all love to have you there, although I don’t have much hope that you would consider joining. Even Charlie and Bill have come back and joined. They miss you and I think they’re more than a little disappointed. Ginny is dating a kid named Michael Corner, not Harry. I’m sure you’re over the moon about that. Ron and Hermione have become prefects. That’s really good news, yeah? I’m not quite sure how Ron snagged it, but he did.

I promised myself I wouldn’t talk about any more conflict with you, so I won’t even bring up what you said at Harry’s trial. Just know I’m disappointed. What, I will say, however, is that it was so cruel that you didn’t even speak with your own father once court ended. I know you knew he was there. Look, I have a really bad feeling about the future and I can’t help but fear that something bad is going to happen and you’re going to regret being such an ass to them.

This letter was all over the place, I apologize. I just have all these emotions and you don’t seem to understand. Or if you do understand, you don’t care. I don’t know which is worse.

Take care,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I apologize for my behavior in my last letter. You’re right, I was only thinking of myself. I’ve just been by myself so much that I guess I find it hard to think about what other people want. I hope you can forgive me. Truly though, I think we could reconcile easier if you met me out in London. Of course only corresponding through letters has led to a strain.

Please brace yourself, because I know if you do not prepare for what I’m about to tell you, you will be very mad at me. I consulted with Fudge and we have decided that you shouldn’t become a teacher at Hogwarts. It’s not a good look for me and it’s safe for you. Dumbledore is off his rocker, I’m not going to allow you to be put in harm's way. Fudge has sent a letter to Hogwarts, strongly suggesting that they find a new candidate for their position. I agree that the role is important, kids need to learn, and you would have been a great teacher. But it’s not the right time for you. I know you will probably be royally pissed for a while, but you’ll get over it. I did it for your own good. I hope you will be happy to hear that I have talked to Fudge about you having a proper job in the Ministry and he agrees. He will be writing to you with an offer soon enough. All’s well that ends well, you get a safer, higher paying job. And you can be near me!

Yes, I knew that my family had moved. I hope they move back soon, it’s not safe for them there. You’re right, someone is going to get hurt. I can feel it in my bones. And of course I will be utterly inconsolable, but it will not be my fault if something happens. It will be Dumbledore’s and inadvertently, Harry’s. I would love to give my family advice, but I know they will not listen. Therefore, there’s no point in writing letters. Besides, even if I did want to write to them, I think Fudge would catch on and have someone start monitoring my mail. I trust the Ministry completely, but I still find it’s in my family’s best interests if the Ministry doesn’t know their exact going on’s.

I heard Ron became prefect. I’m very proud. I wrote him a letter, which the Ministry read (and unfortunately a few unkind edits to, but I’m sure it was for good reason), congratulating him. Unfortunately, I don’t think he’s received it. He hasn’t written back. Maybe Dumbledore has started screening letters? I’m proud of Hermione too, although I didn’t write her a letter. You seem to speak with the lot of them often, so please send her my congratulations. She’s such a smart and sweet girl, she’s a good match for Ron (I can tell he likes her). I would have preferred a Pureblood but oh well, she’s better than most muggles. Oh and speaking of people dating, yes I am very pleased that Ginny has found a nice guy that’s not Harry.

Love,

Percy

Percy,

Before I write anything else, I must address your hilarious claim that Dumbledore is monitoring letters. Ron got your letter, read it, then proceeded to burn it. He found it very offensive. He’s not happy with you, so maybe don’t send him more letters.

Fred and George are still mad, more than everyone else. George invited me out last week, I think only because he knew it would get a rise out of you. Fred’s the maddest of them all, as you know so well from his letters, but he’s with Angelina Johnson, so he couldn’t take me on the “jealousy date”. I don’t really fancy George, don’t worry, and I don’t think he fancies me. I must admit, however, that it was a nice time. It was a welcome change to listen to someone talk to me about their interests instead of being obsessed with a job. It was even more welcome that he asked me questions back and seemed to actually care about my responses. My favorite thing, though, was going out with someone that cared so much for their family. Someone that not only understood romantic love, but also platonic and familial love. I’d been missing that part of you for a while. But like I said, I don’t fancy him. I didn’t even let him kiss me. I feel guilty about it all, of course, I’d like to come down to London and try to get things in our relationship to run smoothly again.

Also, yes, I am very upset that you had that letter written to Hogwarts. You totally crossed a line and if I had any balls, I would have broken up with you over it. But alas, I really do want to make it work. This is another thing that I think we need to work on together. In London. Please tell me your thoughts.

With care,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

Literally, what the fuck? I saw red when I read your letter. You. Went. Out. On. A. Date. With. My. Brother? And the little traitor tried to kiss you? I had half a mind to challenge him to a duel. But you’re right, he’s just trying to get me to act out and he will not get that out of me. There are so many problems with our relationship right now and I cannot bear to let you go, so we must meet and work things out immediately. And I’m not coming home, so you must come here. I’ve taken a week off at the Ministry, please arrive here as soon as you receive this letter. I will not be bested by the likes of George Weasley and a few other misunderstandings I may have thrown your way.

No need to write back,

Percy

Dear Percy,

I am so glad we had that meeting in London! I really do feel like we’ve fixed things. It makes me so happy that you have agreed not to be so unkind with your words in the future. And as promised, I have decreased contact with your family and all the other members of the Order. George has written me about a dozen letters since then, checking up on me and filling me in on what’s going on with your family. But as promised, I have not written back. If I expect you to uphold your part of the agreement, I must hold myself to the same standard.

I think I will take that secretary job Fudge offered me. It’s not all that you made it out to be, but at least I can be near you. I’m still too wary to marry you, after all it hasn’t been too long since we were falling apart, but I think it would be nice to be physically closer to you. I’ll see what I can do in terms of flats, since you’re too prudish to lend me room in yours.

Love you lots,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I don’t have much time to write at the moment, I’m very busy, so please excuse the short letter. I, too, am glad we are doing better. It was impacting my efficiency at work and I could not have that. I’m just glad there’s no more Fred and George, they were trying to hijack your mind and make it theirs. Besides, I have heard from more than one female that has come into contact with them, that they are basically a pair of incubi. I know you think I’m dramatic when I say that, but those two boys have turned evil, I know it. I should have seen the clear signs. It was so obvious from the time that they were little boys, chasing poor Ron with spiders.

Thank Godric that you are coming to join me at the Ministry! I can keep a close eye on you there, make sure you’re safe. I know the job isn’t glorious, but not everyone is as fortunate as me. You have to work your way up. I know you’ll have a very important job in no time. And I never said I wouldn’t let you live with me by the way, I said that I didn’t want your father to become cross with me. You really shouldn’t call me a prude, or do you not remember what all went in London when you came to visit? I didn’t think it was quite that forgettable, but I’ll just have to remind you when you move here.

Love,

Percy

Dear Percy,

I’m sorry for the distance between letters. I meant to write, I really did, but everything went to shit here. I know I said I would distance myself from your family, but George wrote to me and said that your father is in the hospital. So now I’m back to semi-living with them. Did you not read your mother’s letter about it, Percy? She marked it “urgent” on the envelope. Your father was utterly distressed that you didn’t even write, much less visit him. It made his recovery harder and longer. Don’t you still care even a little bit? What if he had passed, wouldn’t you have felt so guilty?

Also, your mother collapsed and fell into a fit of tears when you sent your Christmas jumper back. Why didn’t you just keep it? It would have spared her feelings, even if you think you’re too good for the sweaters now. She made me a sweater, I loved it. But oh well, please think about the repercussions of your actions on others. You’re making it very hard on all of us. Also, Fred wants me to let you know that he wants to bring back drawing and quartering just for you. George is more straight to the point, vowing to castrate you if you two ever cross paths again (by the way, they both thought your incubus comment was very funny, I think it inflated their ego).

I know you are on the Ministry’s side, saying that Voldemort is NOT back, which is horseshit and you know it. But you do know who attacked your father, yes? Surely that should be enough proof for you. You’re very smart, why are you letting an institution think for you?

With peace and love,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I am slightly dismayed that you didn’t keep up with your end of our agreement, going back to speak with my family. I do understand, though, my father’s attack was a shock and could have ended tragically. I know he’s better now, though, so please cease contact again.

On a similar note, yes, I did read Mum’s letter and know that he was in the hospital. I sent flowers anonymously, if that means anything to you. And I kept tabs on him from the Ministry. If I felt that things were going downhill and he wasn’t going to make it, I would have visited. But he was fine, so it’s not a big deal. Maybe he will learn to not poke his head where it doesn’t need poking from now on.

As for the sweater, it’s not that I didn’t want to keep it. I love her sweaters, I wear some of the old one sometimes. But keeping the sweater would have sent a completely wrong message and given her false hope. So really, sending it back was a selfless act.

I know you want me to say that You-Know-Who is back. But you just don’t understand. I represent the Ministry now. What they say goes. That doesn’t mean I don’t have my own thoughts, it simply means that I stand with them.

Just wanted to remind you that you’re very beautiful and I miss your kind heart. I can’t wait for you to move here.

Love,

Percy

Percy,

I am most certainly NOT moving to be with you in London after the stunt you pulled. Betraying Dumbledore and holding Harry in place whilst being questioned by Fudge? What a dick move. I don’t know what I expected, you provided me all the warning signs. I guess that when it mattered, you’d do the right thing. Now I see how wrong I was. I need some time to myself, and you need to think over in your heart why you thought it was okay to do what you did. You just better be glad that Fudge sent you out before you got smacked the fuck up by Dumbledore.

From the top of my head to the bottom of my toes, fuck you

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

This is the fifth letter I’ve sent to you in a row with no response, please answer. I know I shouldn’t have done what I did and I’m sorry. I’m embarrassed, really I am, but I’ve dug myself too deep. I miss you, I miss Ginny, I miss Charlie, I miss Bill, I miss Ron, I miss Mum and Dad. I even miss Fred and George. But it’s too late. I wish I had seen it before. They were right, you were right. I can’t let them know that. I feel so ashamed. I want to help them, but I also want to never bother them again. I saw You-Know-Who in the Ministry. I know all along that he was back, but I kept denying it for my job. But now I don’t have my family and I don’t have you, so my job is all I have. Please know that anything you see from me from this moment forward doesn’t represent my heart. You’re right, I don’t remember how many letters ago it was, but you said I wasn’t the person you fell in love with. You couldn’t have hit the nail on the head any better. There’s barely any left of that Percy, just his shell. So really, I shouldn’t be talking to you at all. I’m not the person you committed to. But I still love you. It’s total wishful thinking that I can have you back, but hoping is the only thing that keeps me from going insane. Bill wrote me a letter saying that he was engaged. I don’t want to face my family but I’ll go if I can see you.

Love, Percy

Percy,

I felt like I should write you one last letter because despite myself, I still care. I want to give you closure. It’s clear to me that you’re never coming home, which is clear symbolism that you are never going to do the right thing. You said it yourself in your letters, you’re digging your heels in and standing by the ministry. You’re a filthy coward.

Yes, Bill is getting married in a few months. We’re all very busy with preparations, it seems like that’s the only good thing that’s happening around here. You have an invitation, of course, but you shouldn’t come if you just want to see me. If I see you, I will make a scene and there will be more than just mashed parsnips being thrown at you (yes, Fred and George told me about how you visited just for the benefit of the Ministry. It’s pathetic, really). Your mum is convinced you will show up to the wedding and everything will be magically better. I know you better than that. I wish I was in blissful ignorance and thought you still loved us all, but you don’t. You’re not going to be able to get your head out of your ass until it’s one of us that’s laying lifeless somewhere because of the monsters of people that the Ministry have allowed to roam for so long. I know where you stand and you know where I stand. So there’s nothing else to say.

I’m sending back all the things of yours that I have. You should receive them all with this letter. Please write back if I missed anything.

Sincerely,

Penelope Clearwater

#percy weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #hp #hp fanfic #harry potter

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wingeddbaby · 4 years

Text

soulmate au

For the following characters : Bakugou Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, Amajiki Tamaki

warnings : language

“Do you think our soulmates might be in our class?” asked Ochaco, a smile plastered on her face.

You frowned. Hoping that your soulmate was in your school, least of all your class, was just a lost cause. There’s a low chance of meeting your soulmate. And even if you did, it could be possible that the two of you never figure it out. Or there could be an unrequited love.

You’re supposed to have a matching mark. It’s located on your wrist, and it disappears once - or in most cases, if - you fall in love with your soulmate.

But, right now, soulmates were the least of your worries as you walked with your friend all the way to UA; a place you thought you’d never get into.

Bakugou Katsuki -

He didn’t believe in the whole soulmate scenario. That’s why Bakugou kept his mark covered whenever he could. He didn’t want to meet his soulmate. Because he didn’t know what he would think if he did.

But when he saw you at the dorms, a small blue explosion on the inside of your bare wrist, he couldn’t process the newfound information.

“Hey, Bakugou! Are you still going to help me study tonight? We have that test tomorrow, and I really need your help!” You grabbed his arm, and Bakugou hated the fact that he became flustered from the familiar action. The two of you somehow became “friends”, even with your cheerful personality and his bad attitude.

“Whatever. Get your shit and hurry up.” Bakugou pulled away and left for his room.

You smiled and ran to your room to grab your notebook and some of the assignments you needed help with.

*-•°•-*

“Can I just sleep here? Aizawa will be pissed if he finds me wandering around the boys’ dorms at two in the morning.” You yawned and set your notebook aside.

“That’s why I told you to leave, hours ago!” he yelled, causing you to laugh. You somehow found humor in his overly-dramatic anger. “But fine, you can sleep on the bed-”

“You want me to sleep in your bed with you? I feel honored!” You smirked when he glared at you.

“I was going to say…” he tried to keep his cool this time. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Aww… that’s no fun. I promise I don’t bite!”

“Shut up and turn around while I change.”

“Why? Scared I’ll see your mark?”

He didn’t say anything.

You covered your eyes, flopping back onto his bed. “I still can’t believe I got you to stay up this late.” You peeked through your fingers, hoping to get a glimpse of his soulmate mark. And you were able to see it. When you did, you fell off the bed in shock.

“Shit! What the hell are you doing, (l/n)?!” he yelled, pulling on a sweatshirt.

“K-Katsuki! Why didn’t you tell me?!” he lifted you from the ground, ignoring your yelling.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” You saw the look of worry on his face that he tried to cover up with yelling.

You grabbed his sleeve and pulled it up so that you could see his mark. The blue explosion that was the exact same as yours. A mix of your water manipulation quirk and his ability to create explosions from his sweat.

“You’ve seen my mark multiple times! Why didn’t you tell me?!” You felt hurt, and you just wanted to forget about this situation, but it’s too late now. “Mine disappeared a few days ago…”

“I didn’t…”

“What, Katsuki?!”

“I didn’t want to see your reaction.” He sat down on the bed in defeat. What is up with him today?

You sat down next to him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I l-like you, (l/n) (y/n).”

Your heart started to race at his meaningful statement. “Aww… I like you too, Katsuki!” You smiled and wrapped your arms around him. This was one of the very rare moments in which Bakugou opened up to you. And you would accept it any day.

Kaminari Denki -

“Oh my god! (y/n), Kaminari has that same mark on his wrist! I saw it the other day!” Mina squealed, jumping up and down.

“You are very excited over this…” You watched as Mina smiled and grabbed her phone. “What are you doing, Mina…?”

“I’m texting Ochaco. She said that whoever finds your soulmate first will get a free meal from the other.”

You gave her a look of confusion. “But what if you never found my soulmate?”

“Then I’d live a very sad life, (y/n).”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone when you heard it go off. It was a message from Ochaco.

human floaty: U FOUND UR SOULMATE W/O ME???

human floaty: IM COMING TO UR ROOM RN

“Ochaco’s coming over,” you said quietly. Mina grabbed your phone from your hands. “HEY!”

“Why is there a picture of you and Kaminari as your wallpaper?” She smirked at you and scrolled through your contacts.

“What are you doing with my phone?”

“Calling him.”

“WHAT?! STOP!” You reached for your phone, a spark of electricity accidentally flying from your fingertip. That’s right. You have the same quirk as Kaminari, except you can shoot red electricity. It was caused by your mother’s fire quirk.

“I didn’t call him.” Mina tossed me the phone. “I texted him. He wouldn’t be able to hear me if I called since you keep screaming.”

A knock was heard at your door, and, expecting it to be Ochaco, you stood up to answer it. You did not expect to see your friend, crush, and soulmate - Kaminari Denki, standing at your door frame. “Denki? W-What are you-”

“Let me see your mark!” he yelled frantically, grabbing your arm.

He put his arm next to yours, comparing the two soulmate marks. A lightning bolt. Half yellow, half red.

Then it disappeared.

“You love me?!” you looked up at him in embarrassment once you saw the mark disappear from his wrist.

“You love me?!”

You both didn’t predict someone to shove Kaminari into you and cause your lips to clash together in an unexpected kiss.

Ochaco gave Mina a discreet thumbs up from her place behind Kaminari.

Todoroki Shouto -

You have two soulmate marks. So you figured it would be easier to find your soulmate with that kind of mark. You even thought of the possibility that you might have two soulmates. But that was impossible. One of them was a flame. The other was a red and blue flower. The second mark made sense, considering your quirk gives you the ability to cover the area in plants with your bare hands. It’s pretty useful in combat since you can just wrap vines around someone.

But one day, the marks just disappeared, meaning that your soulmate had fallen in love with you. That also means that you’ve met them before, which narrowed down the possibilities.

You didn’t even want a soulmate. You already heart set on someone else. So imagine your surprise when you heard Midoriya asking Todoroki about his two soulmate marks, and how they had disappeared a few weeks ago… When you realized you liked Todoroki…

You walked up to them during lunch and slammed your hands down on the table, trying to be intimidating. “Todoroki. Can I talk to you?” He nodded, waiting for you to say something. “Alone, please?”

Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka quickly left the table. “What did your soulmate marks look like?”

“One was a flame. The other was a flower. Why?”

Your eyes widened. “You’re my soulmate…”

Midoriya Izuku -

“I like you!”

“Huh?” You jumped slightly when Midoriya suddenly said this during lunch.

You didn’t figure him as the type of person to have feelings for another person at this time. He was too focused on his studies and on becoming a pro hero, but apparently, that wasn’t as true as you thought it to be.

“You… like me…?” You didn’t believe it. Honestly, who would want someone like you? You have a quirk that poisons people. You can’t be a hero with a quirk that only hurts people, yet you got into UA - under the hero course - anyway.

“Yes.” He nodded, still bowing his head to you so you couldn’t see his expression.

“Why?” you asked, picking at the food on your tray with a solemn look. He was probably dared to do it. You never thought that it was possible for someone to like you.

He grabbed your arm and showed you his wrist. “You like me too, dont you?” Both his arm and your’s were free of the soulmate mark that was a green skull.

“I do…” You smiled when he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Someone in this world - your soulmate - does like you. Love you.

Amajiki Tamaki -

You smiled at the small sun on your wrist. The other girls in your class were showing off their marks, and you had a sudden appreciation for your own.

“Your soulmate must be a cheerful person,” said Ochaco, smiling over at you.

You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Hey, aren’t you going to meet up with Nejire and her friend later?” Mina asked. When you nodded, she asked, “Can I come?”

“Sorry, no, I’m supposed to meet her at a café with Tamaki,” you said, grabbing your phone and your backpack. “I should actually be going right now.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?! We could’ve helped you prepare!”

*-•°•-*

“She isn’t coming, is she?” You sighed, leaning your head against the window of the café.

The boy in front of you shrugged, still trying to call Nejire from his phone.

“Maybe we should just go, Tamaki…” you whispered, turning off your phone and putting it in the front pocket of your backpack.

“We could s-stay.”

“I mean… If you want to.”

“I-If you don’t-”

“Tamaki, I want to stay.” You smiled and grabbed onto his hand.

“Okay…” A blush crept onto his face as you fiddled with his hand. “What are you doing…?”

You heard your phone ringing from your backpack, so you went to grab it. When you reached into the pocket, you noticed that the mark on your wrist was gone.

“U-Um… Tamaki? Do you mind if I see your soulmate mark?”

He held out his arm, expecting to see that small familiar sun. Imagine his surprise when he saw nothing.

“It was a sun… I don’t-” He was cut off by your lips being pressed against his. You felt him flinch at the sudden action, but that didn’t stop him from hesitantly putting his hands on your waist.

“Ahem!” You both pulled away, not meeting each other eyes as you scooted away from each other. “I see you two are getting along just fine…”

You glared at Nejire as she laughed at your embarrassment.

#boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #fanfic #katsuki bakugo x reader #kaminari x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x reader #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki #soulmate #au #alternate universe #mha x reader #character x reader #bnha x reader

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heirloommtomatoes · 4 years

Text

you’re in a car with a beautiful boy

I’m at least 90% sure this ask was not sent with the intent of receiving a fic as a response but. Here we are. This got way longer and more convoluted than I had intended it to be and I’m jus gonna post it at this point bc i’m losing my mind re-reading it jsksk ! The title is from part 24 of Richard Siken’s poem “You Are Jeff”. Perfect poem for their first kiss, I think! Enjoy reading! :)

Warnings: Two instances of canon-typical homophobic language; canon-typical swearing.

Word Count: 2.6k~

The day Ian Gallagher shows up at his door, red-cheeked, out of breath, and wanting, no — “I need to see you” — needing him, Mickey knows he’s done for.

What comes out is: “I thought you were working today.”

Nice, dumbshit, that’s helpful, he registers the thought somewhere in the back of his mind, but mostly he just can’t stop staring at Ian. His eyes flick over his face, and he doesn’t have time to be shocked by how much he cares.

He’s embarrassed to reveal that yes, he did memorize Ian’s work schedule because he was in fact listening to the guy when he was busy running his mouth at the convenience store. Instinctively, he casts a quick glance over his shoulder. He can’t let Terry see this gay shit, Ian all worked up about some mommy issues and Mickey trying in his own way. To do what exactly, he’s still not completely sure. Comfort him, maybe? He doubts his father would clue in, his head’s too far up his homophobic ass for that, but like hell Mickey’s gonna risk it. Nothing’s gonna touch Ian. Fucking ever, if it’s up to him.

“I’ll meet you there in twenty,” Mickey says a short while later. He closes the door and goes back inside to stand around the dining table where Terry was going over some kind of raid or bust or heist while somehow managing to boss Mandy around every other word.

Mickey can’t focus on anything. He’s going to see Ian in twenty minutes. He’s bubbling with palpable excitement and fear and feelings he has no name for. What if Ian wants to talk about everything? Does he smell bad? What could Mickey say so he doesn’t leave? So Ian doesn’t see what a miserable shit he is? He hates Ian fucking Gallagher for making him care about dumb stuff like this, for making him incapable of hearing a word his Dad is saying to him and his brothers, for making him want to do some astronomically stupid thing like kiss him.

“Mickey, why you over there starin’ like some dumb fuckin’ fag?”

He doesn’t work up the courage for over another year.

Mickey slams the door to his room after running errands with Iggy all morning. It smells stale and one of the posters is curling off the wall in the mid-summer humidity. He’d changed his sheets this morning. The same red ones from the day Ian had burst in here like a maniac demanding the gun back. From then on, the two had been inseparable; no matter how hard their South Side circumstances had tried to pry them apart, every time they came back together like magnets.

Mickey knows he can’t really hide from Ian, and it scares him as much as it excites him. Ian reads him like no one ever has. The guy even had the nerve to smile that adorable smile that makes Mickey’s chest tight when he’d told him he’d rip his tongue out back in juvie. For some reason that Mickey cannot begin to fathom, Ian seems to want to spend time with him. Seems to believe in him.

He had thought himself perfectly fine to live a life half-awake, to spend his days either in prison or in the Milkovich household (one in the same, he thinks - except that juvie doesn’t have Terry), probably die by shivs or bullets or fists, and have his body buried in some unmarked grave all before his 50th birthday. Ian had wedged his place in the timeline of Mickey’s life. There was a before, and an after, and neither of them would ever be the same. Mickey pretends that its not this thought that keeps him up at night.

As soon as he realized that Iggy and Colin and Terry looked at girls and actually wanted them, that it wasn’t just some bizarre social act they all bought into, he knew he was fucked for life. His whole existence feels like some grand joke that everyone is in on but him, and when he lays down at night and stares at his ceiling and thinks about Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, he wonders if maybe he was the butt of it all along.

Ian Gallagher, who knew him and wanted him anyway, who took the time to care about him, who sought him out to spend time with him just because he wanted to. When had their ten minute fucks turned into smoke breaks? When had their smoke breaks turned into —

Mickey’s phone dings in his pocket as he sits on the steps of the Milkovich house, a cigarette dangling idly from his mouth.

Ian

what are ur plans today

He swallows his heart back down as it leaps into his throat, almost dizzying him with excitement. Get a grip, you fuckin’ girl. He’d done all that he needed to do for the day. He’d helped Iggy with some errands in the morning and had planned on laying low, playing Halo 3, and chain-smoking his way through a pack until dinner.

He chews on his lip as he considers what to say. He texts back:

Mickey

don’t have any

He wants to say “why, what’s up?”, he wants to say “let’s go to the dugouts”, he wants to say “let’s do something”, “let’s hang out”, “i want to see you”, “i want you”. But he’s not allowed to want things. Certainly not…this. Whatever this is. He receives a response almost immediately and can’t help but crack a fond smile. Someone’s eager.

Ian

come with me to that abandoned building near the L

you know the spot

That’s how Mickey finds himself sitting atop a wooden platform, watching Ian run military drills below at 1 in the afternoon on a Sunday.

He fires his gun into the sky while resolutely pretending not to be checking out the younger boy below.

“Hey,” Ian says, breathing heavily and squinting against the sun and Mickey finds himself realizing he is made of things he cannot ever have, “You know that guy you beat the shit out of at that club?”

Of course Mickey remembers. His stomach flops at the mention of him.

“He wants me to sneak into his mansion and take all of his crap.”

“Really,” Mickey responds dryly, firing off another shot. He doesn’t want Ian to keep talking about him, “Hi-larious.”

“Can’t get it himself,” Ian continues, as if Mickey cares. And the worst part is that he thinks maybe he does — he cares about everything this alien-looking ginger has to say and he hates it and he can never, ever get enough of it, of him, of Ian, “Divorce. Says I can take whatever I want. He’s loaded. You want in?”

Mickey fires shots at the ground by Ian’s head where he’s crawling under some boards. He’s remembering seeing them at that bar in Boystown, out in the heat and in the sun and in public, cracking jokes and living a life Mickey can only watch from behind glass, from behind bars. Fuck that old guy for getting handed on a silver platter what Mickey so desperately craves but cannot have. Not just Ian — freedom. Though Mickey thinks they’re one in the same these days.

“Jesus! Use blanks, maybe?! Fuck.” Ian shouts up at him, dragging himself up off the ground.

“Bring my cousins?” Mickey asks, refusing to look at him. Every time he does he sees them together and wishes that it had been him, sun-drunk and laughing and free by his side.

“Yeah,” Ian shrugs.

“‘Aight, I’m in,” Mickey fires off another shot. He’s angry at Ian for nothing other than exercising his complete right to see other people since they weren’t really together anyway, he’s angry at that old ass man for being able to go out for drinks with him, touch him, kiss him, and most of all he’s angry at himself.

He feels broken for wanting him. He feels broken for not being able to be brave enough to admit that he wants him. He gets cut on his own self-hatred any direction he turns.

“I dunno what you see in that geriatric viagroid,” he says, forcing himself to meet Ian’s gaze, if for a brief moment.

“He buys me stuff, orders me room service,” Ian says nonchalantly, looking up at Mickey. It’s obvious how much he’s been working out. His shoulders are hard and defined, his chest chiseled through the dark green of his military shirt. Mickey feels the familiar sting of contempt rising in his throat and fires off two more shots.

He can’t buy him anything, let alone room service. The fuck kind of response is that? More than anything, it annoys Mickey because he knows it isn’t really true. He’s bullshitting him, and that gets to him more than Ted or Ned or Fred or whatever the hell is name is ever could. He knows he’s not that superficial. Sure, he doesn’t doubt those are nice bonuses, but he knows there’s more to it than that.

He knows Ian. He knows Ian and he wishes that didn’t have to mean he loves him, but it does. He doesn’t understand how anyone could know Ian and not love him. But he’s not quite ready to admit that yet, least of all to himself.

“He isn’t afraid to kiss me,” Ian adds.

Ah. There it is.

His world has become a breathing thing with Ian in it. Before it was stagnant, stale, drowning. It has become a beast with teeth that threatens to tear him from the careful scaffolding he has built around the most fragile parts of his life.

If he kisses him, then everything he fears he is will be true.

Some dumb fuckin’ fag.

So Mickey brings his cousins later that evening and doesn’t stop thinking about Ian’s comment for the rest of the day. The van ride is full of loud music and rolled down windows that let in the warm, fresh summer air, and Iggy and Colin are endlessly bickering and hitting each other in the back of the car.

“Can you assholes quiet down when we get closer? You’re gonna wake up the old lady and everyone else in the goddamn neighbourhood before we even roll in the fuckin’ driveway,” Mickey says, swatting at them from where he’s sitting in the passenger seat. Ian glances his way with an amused smile that Mickey only just catches when he settles back. He grins in return around the cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“Oh hey, pass one?” Ian asks, holding out his hand. Mickey’s about to give him one before a car speeds around a corner and almost T-bones the side of the van. Ian’s hand snaps back to the wheel to swerve out of the way, and Mickey drops the cigarette to the floor of the van in all the commotion.

“Asshole, watch it!” Ian exclaims as he uselessly flips off the car that’s now long gone down the road. Mickey lets out a guffaw of a laugh and abandons handing him the lost cigarette in favour of placing his own half-smoked one right between Ian’s lips.

The intimacy of the action doesn’t strike him until he’s nudging the cigarette against his mouth and his eyes are tracing the outline of his lips and he can feel the warmth of his breath against his tattooed knuckles. The raw familiarity of the action and the fact that Mickey’s own lips had just been on the cigarette that’s now resting on the edge of Ian’s mouth has his heart racing so quickly he can feel it in his chest like a ton of bricks. Ian casts him a side-glance out of the corner of his eye as he parts his lips to accept it. Mickey takes his hand away and clears his throat, glancing at the rear-view mirror to an oblivious Colin and Iggy.

“Thanks,” Ian mumbles, remembering himself as he snaps out of whatever it had been that passed between them just now.

Mickey wants to kiss him. He really, really wants to kiss him. He’d tried fucking girls and had been less turned on than he was just now doing nothing other than placing his cigarette in Ian’s mouth.

Ian pulls into the drive minutes later, cigarette since burned through and discarded out the window. Mickey tries not to feel the absence of it as though it were his own lips against his and not just the ghost of them stained onto the cigarette.

Colin drags open the side door and hops out with Iggy, zipping open a duffel bag full of guns. Mickey’s grateful for the distraction, for the absolute focus violence requires that he hopes will shove his desire to do something as stupid as kiss Ian out of his head.

“Hey! Whoa, guys, guys! No fucking guns, alright? It’s just a drunk old lady in there,” Ian says, brow furrowed as he looks at Mickey.

Trust Gallagher to be the defender of drunk old ladies. Mickey bites at his lip, trying and failing to ignore the way his chest swells with adoration at Ian’s request. Soft motherfucker. He’s right, though — any unnecessary violence and this could be a way bigger deal than it needs to be. Plus, he’d rather not piss off his only and best friend. He grabs the guns back from his cousins, much to their disappointment, and makes off toward the house.

He hadn’t woken up this morning thinking that today would be the day he’d kiss Ian. Hell, even now he’s sure that if he thinks about it any more he’ll chicken out and never kiss him at all. Mickey Milkovich, with the F-U-C-K U-U-P knuckles, who wears dirt and a scowl like they’re permanent accessories, is going to kiss Ian Gallagher, the freckled boy who protects drunk old ladies and smiles at him like he hangs the damn stars. He figures he was about to storm into an old lady’s house brandishing firearms without second thought or fright. Is kissing someone really that much more terrifying?

Abso-fuckin-lutely.

But there’s nothing between them but the van and Mickey’s fear. And fuck the fear. Fuck it.

He can pretend that he kisses him for no other reason than to prove a point, than to fulfill some implied dare.

At the end of the day, he kisses him because he wants to.

He kisses him because he likes him.

He kisses him because he loves him.

Mickey’s heart is racing so badly he feels that he might throw up and well, what an impression that would leave. Every part of him is shaking as he turns and takes one step, two steps, pulls himself into the van and…

His lips are against Ian’s. They’re so much softer than he’d imagined (and he had imagined, often) and warm and Mickey can feel the breath from his nose against his own face. He tastes like smoke and freedom and something sweet Mickey can’t place -- a fucking Snickers bar? -- but loves the taste of anyway.

His brain short-circuits. He lingers longer than he had intended to, but it’s real and it’s better than he ever thought it could be. He’d kissed Sarah Perkins on a dare back in 7th grade and he’d gargled vodka afterwards to wash his mouth out.

He’d thought himself broken for it just not feeling right. But this…this feels right. Ian makes him feel right. He had expected, hoped even maybe, that it would feel wrong. That he would kiss him and feel as though he had done something terrible, something worse than stealing from an old lady’s home, but if it does he can’t bring himself to care at the moment.

On his tongue, in his touch, with his laugh, Ian has given him the vocabulary to understand himself. To put a name to feelings mostly only understood in the illuminating glory of hindsight.

He’s spent his whole life outside of himself. Is this what it is to know yourself? Is this what it is for everything to suddenly make sense? He isn’t allowed soft things. He isn’t allowed this.

But here he is anyway.

And the world spins on.

He wants to kiss him again and again and again but he remembers his cousins in the house and what he suspects was probably less than five seconds feels like an eternity and Ian’s lips are starting to respond and move and is that his hand starting to lift to touch him? oh shit what if they come back to get him and this is what they walk in on and --

He pulls back and retreats as quickly as he’d arrived, throwing up a middle finger at Ian. Afraid to kiss him, Mickey’s ass.

Fuck he thinks as he runs back to the house, and can’t think much else but fuckfuckfuck, every inch of him charged and shaking and electric.

“Forgot somethin’,” he says breathlessly to the two boys who are, as it turns out, barely paying him any mind as they bicker between themselves about how they’re going to manage picking up a cabinet heavier than the two of them combined. Mickey’s not listening to them as they end up dropping it to split up and tackle smaller bait.

He grins wickedly to himself. He did it. Mickey goddamn Milkovich made a choice that wasn’t about pain or hurt or violence. He’d made a choice that was his and his alone and it was soft. Mickey Milkovich could choose to be soft, and gentle, and maybe even caring.

And if he can kiss Ian Gallagher? He can do anything.

#reposting this in a better format i think #gallavich #gallavich fic #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #why is read more not working brruhhh this is so long im sorry #IS it working??? idk #if it isnt #sorry!!!!#my bOYS~!!!!#my writing

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abrunettefangirlnerd · 4 years

Text

Little Bird - Chapter 2

Request: wanted to ask you if you could do a Loki x teen!Reader. Where the reader meets Loki in some way and she touches him and connect their souls 'cause she has powers she doesn't know about. And then some day she's in pain or smth and Loki feels it and comes to her. And she finds out she just can connect her soul with someone she trusts. And loki is all sweet ? And angst maby. Please and thank you.

Pairing: Loki Odinson x teen!Reader

Chapter: 2/2

Chapter 1

“Loki this place is amazing!” Your voice echoes across the high ceiling of the new Avenger compound.

“I need you to be a bit quitter,” Loki gently shushes you. “There are some people here I don’t want to know we are here.”

People like your brother? you ask yourself. You don’t understand why it would be a problem for you to be here. Well, knowing exactly where the compound is could be a potential problem. But you wouldn’t dream of telling anyone anyway. These people protect the city and the world. Why would you want to muck that up? You’re afraid he may be ashamed to be seen with you. You know you barely know him. Though, there is this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that knows you would be crushed if you never saw him again.

“Ah Loki,” Dr. Banner peers around a screen full of laid out research. “This must be (Y/N), it is nice to meet you.”

You can’t help but feel a little heat rise across your cheeks. At least there is someone here that may be happy to see you here. Even if it is only to run these mysterious tests. Loki has been acting on edge the moment you two arrived. Tiptoeing around every corner, constantly looking over his shoulder.

Dr. Banner offers up a smile and a hand shake, and you politely share the same sentiment. Next he directs you to a white glowing table that he asks you to lay down on. You can feel slight nerves creep on your anxiety. Loki couldn’t really explain the test that will be performed, mostly because he doesn’t really understand it himself. The only thing he promises is that it will not hurt. But being a natural worrier, his assurance doesn’t help much.

“Okay, (Y/N). Just lay as still as you can. This machine is going to do a sweep of your vitals and scan for anything out of the ordinary for the average person. You should not feel a thing. Just relax.” Dr. Banner’s voice calms you down a bit and you focus on your breathing.

Loki and Dr. Banner have gone into another room, and have been speaking over a microphone. He assures that there is nothing harmful that would keep them from being in the room. Apparently the machine will scan any person in the room, and they thought it would be best to keep the results separate. Something about making it easier to read. You’re not a doctor, yet anyway, so you’re not going to argue.

“I don’t know why you had to sneak her in.” Dr. Banner’s voice comes over the intercom. Looks like they forgot the mic was still on.

“You now that Thor thought this wasn’t a good idea.” Loki sighs. “He told me not to go back after the first night I saw her. I’m apparently bad luck, where I’m at trouble follows. When I got Tony to give me her address he gave me the same warning.”

“Well I can’t exactly disagree with them.” You can hear a smile in Banner’s voice.

Your heart flutters in your chest. Loki wasn’t hiding you from everyone because he felt ashamed. It’s not because of you being a mortal. He went behind Thor and Tony’s wishes. Of which you are thankful for. Loki saved your life last night, and you want them to know that. Loki is your hero, not a bad luck charm.

The two come back into the room and say that the test is over. Dr. Banner says that it will take just a moment for the results to come in. He offers to get you anything and you graciously accept the offer of a glass of water. You didn’t really need it but this gives you some time alone with Loki.

Watching Loki’s demeanor, you can see that he has relaxed a bit since getting here. Though with his tightened shoulders you can still see he is on edge. You wonder of Tony visits this lab often. He expertise isn’t really in this area, but you could imagine he would pop in every once in a while.

“How are you feeling, little bird?” Loki’s voice is tender and he laces his fingers with yours.

“You’re not a bad luck charm.” You have this problem that if you can’t ease into a topic you just get right to the point. “The only reason I am sitting here right now is because of you. If Tony and Thor can’t get behind this then too bad for them. Especially if I end up having these powers you think I may have.” You can see a small smile dance on Loki’s lips at the idea of his brother’s face. “I would get to train with you. Even if I don’t, I really hope you stick around.”

Loki doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t have to. You can see in his eyes that he would really love to train with you if given the opportunity. The idea of getting to know him better makes you giddy. There is the idea that the media paints him, and an image that you have from your dreams. It would be nice to see the real him. The real Loki.

“Here you are, (Y/N).” Dr. Banner enters the room with your glass of water. You thank him before taking a small drink.

Dr. Banner reviews your vitals and anything else the scan picked up. Loki sits next to you on the table, his hand still intertwined with yours. With every passing second you can feel your anxiety come back. What if you had powers but you wouldn’t be able to control? What if they had to take you down? Would Thor like you when you officially meet? The questions bounce back and forth between thoughts of possible powers and being accepted by this family Loki has.

“Okay,” Dr. Banner starts. “Vitals look good, heartrate was a bit elevated but could have just been nerves.” You smile to yourself and Loki gives your hand a knowing squeeze. “I am seeing an odd energy radiating off of you. It is faint, obviously barely tapped into. Loki, with what you were suggesting the other day I would like to test you as well.”

As if in sync, you and Loki both nod together. You give him a kiss on the cheek and head out of the room with Dr. Banner. The dozen screens lining the walls, all moving in a dark room, begins to make you dizzy. Explaining you’d be back in a minute, you exit the room into the brightly lit hall way.

Since you’ve been a little girl you have had some trouble with motion sickness. Seeing all those screens moving and changing made you aware that you were not. The subway is not your favorite mode of transport in the city. Only way you will ride it is if you don’t have a chance. Even then you keep your head toward the floor and pretend that you’re not actually moving.

“Hey, miss. Do you need some help?”

A male voice appears a few feet ahead of you. Looking up you can see that it is nonother than Tony Stark. Shit! You think to yourself. In reality you were hoping to run into him with Loki. You suck at explaining things and Loki has a smooth silver tongue. He is perfect for this.

“I’m okay, just got dizzy. I am just waiting on someone.” You try to play it off like there is no problem.

“Oh my God, he didn’t.” Tony swears under his breath. “You’re (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N), aren’t you? And Loki brought you here didn’t he?”

Question after question rattles out of Tony. He doesn’t stop for you to confirm because he already knows. As he paces back and forth trying to get his thoughts in order you can see his face turn red. You would really hate to be on the receiving end of Iron Man. Thank goodness he doesn’t have his suit on right now.

Loki and Dr. Banner come out into the hall looking for you. Looking into Loki’s eyes you can see the worry dissipate but quickly resurface by the presence of Tony. On instinct Loki comes to your side to make sure you’re okay, but keeps an eye on Tony. You can sense the light drum of his magic beneath his skin, ready to act as a shield for your defense. Though, even seeing how mad Tony is you can’t image he would do anything extreme.

“Okay reindeer games, you have exactly one minute to explain to me why she is here.” Tony’s eyes drill holes into Loki.

“I asked him to bring her.” Dr. Banner speaks up first. “Loki has been explain to me this interesting pull toward (Y/N) among other things. I wanted to test out a theory.”

“What theory is that?” Tony’s interest has peaked. His initial rage has submitted to his curiosity, for now.

“She is giving off some sort of energy that is unrecognizable from our planet. Loki shows a smaller trace of it, like a mark or a link.” Dr. Banner paces while trying to contain his excitement. “These two have been experiencing a pull toward each other. Loki can feel strong emotions from (Y/N), and she is like a drug for Loki. I just need to figure out the trigger.”

Dr. Banner’s gaze passes between you and Loki as if he thinks the words will be spread across the air. You try to recall the day that you met Loki, the day he saved your life. How the moment he caught you, you felt instantly safe and drawn to him. If it wasn’t for him you would have been dead. Something happened between the two of you in that moment, before that this link didn’t exist. Suddenly, you have an idea.

“What if,” your voice starts off small. Honestly you aren’t sure if you should speak at all, but you clear your throat and continue. “What if we are linked because he saved me? I was so scared and when Loki saved me I was so relieved.”

“Maybe since you trusted reindeer games over here in that moment, and with untamed powers, caused you to link to him.”

“I like the sound of that.” Loki’s voice is low, only for you to hear.

In response you lightly bump into him. Hopefully he gets the message to behave. But it was too late, your face was already heating up. Thankfully the two science dorks were too engrossed in this new theory to notice.

Looks like we get to train after all. Loki’s voice filters through your mind like waves.

Loki told you about his ability to speak into someone’s mind. Normally he uses it as a suggestion for people to cause mischief. Though looks like he has a more effective way of communicating with you. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll be able to do the same someday.

“I think we have some unfinished training back at my place.” You whisper into Loki’s ear with a smirk.

And you think I’m the one that needs to behave.

A small giggle threatens to rise from your throat. Turning it into a cough it gets the attention of Tony and Dr. Banner once again. Apparently the action looked a little bit more labored than normal. It also doesn’t help that Loki has a smug look on his face that he isn’t doing well to hide.

“Maybe it’s time you introduce me to your brother.” Two can play at this game. Loki’s triumphant look vanishes within seconds, leaving you the one looking smug. Oh yes this is going to be fun.

Taglist: @drabby-abby @senpaiweird

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jbbarnesandnoble · 4 years

Text

Something Borrowed: Part One

Pairing: Teacher!Steve x SingleMom!Reader

Summary: Steve is your attractive neighbor, who happens to be daughters 3rd grade teacher. You’re a single mom with two kids, trying to balance work and raising your children. But never have time for yourself or a relationship. What could go wrong when you’re finally ready to date?

Chapter Summary: it’s the sunday before school starts at your kids new schools. And special occasions require special pancakes.

Warning(s): fluff, an intro to this little family, and a bit of motherly worrying. Warnings will change throughout the series.

Word Count: 1,604

Prompt: Teacher AU

A/N: This is my submission for @marvelfulxbabes writing challenge. I hope you all like this fully little fic of mine! This is my first series for Steve and I have to say I’m very excited about it!! We’re off to a but of a shaky start with this first part. Seeing as this isn’t exactly how i wanted to start this fic off. But i had to stuck with it. This has been a chaotic week to even find the time to breathe, let alone write. I’m sorry:( Feedback is very much appreciated, but never expected and definitely not mandatory!! Hope you enjoy it!

(this isn’t my gif)

The early morning sun peaks through the small spaces in the curtains. Pouring into your room, giving it a warm glow. Sunday’s are your favorite day. They’re peaceful, quiet, and slow paced. At least, that’s how they’re meant to be. With two kids, it makes it hard to find a quiet moment. But today, you found that peaceful -much needed- quiet.

Stretching your arms above your head, pointing your toes out. Your joints crack and pop in a delightful way. You sigh, content when your body relaxes back into the soft mattress. A few moments pass you by. While you enjoy the feeling of staying in bed a little longer today. Another sigh, your feet hit the cool wood of your bedroom floor. When you finally force yourself out of bed. Your feet guide you down the hall, through your home.

It’s a short walk to your kitchen, where your glorious, well loved coffee pot calls to you. A few scoops of coffee grounds and two cups of water later. And your kitchen already smells of coffee. The warm aroma floods your lungs, waking you up. While you wait for the coffee to brew, you take out a few ingredients out for pancakes. Your favorite breakfast food.

Once the coffee is done, your poor yourself a generous amount. Seeing as you’re the only caffeine drinker in the house. You drink it black. Not bothering with cream or sugar.

With a long sip, you feel yourself becoming less sluggish. Now that, that’s done, you focus on the pancakes. Mixing together all the ingredients you need. Throwing in blueberries and lemon zest to make them more special. A couple minutes later and they’re cooked, ready to be eaten. The only problem? You’re missing your two favorite sleepy heads to help you eat them.

Making your way through the livingroom and back down the hallway. You stop in front of your daughter’s door first. Managing to slip in without waking her up. Crossing her room, you stop next to her bed. Crouching down next to her little face. You whisper three little words you know she’ll wake up to. “I made pancakes.” You whispered into her ear, in a sing songy voice. As expected, her green eyes snap open. As wide as ever. “You made pancakes? Blueberry lemon pancakes?” Mary asks, her voice still groggy from sleep. You nod, a smile on your face. Without missing a beat, she sits up. Her blond hair sticks every which way. Wild from her nights sleep.

By the time you stand up, she’s racing down the hall. The sound of her small feet running gets farther and farther away. Then they stop altogether. Before they come racing back towards you. “Did you wake up Harley?” She asks, bouncing on her toes. Her big eyes look up at you, mischief swirls through the green of them. Her toothy smile is a playful one. You shake your head slowly. Mirroring her mischievous expression.

Without saying another word, the two of you ‘sneak’ to the door at the end of the hall. Tiptoeing down the dark hallway. Muffled giggles bounce off of the walls, as you try your best to be sneaky. Easily failing. Her eyes meet your own, both of you whisper as you count down from three. Before opening the door, the room is dark. Except for a sliver of light that peeks through the bottom of the blinds.

Tired of wasting any more time, you turn on the light. Mary runs into the room hopping onto the bed, placed against the wall. Giggles and screams flood the small room. You can’t help but laugh at the sight in front of you.

Mary is sitting on top of her older brother who is yelling, angry the two of you woke him up. Despite the chaos and noise, you feel your heart warming at the sight of your kids. Your kids who you love more than anyone, and anything. In the entire world. “All right, that’s enough. Hop down girly.” Clapping your hands together, you hold them out. Mary pouts, but jumps into your them anyway. “What was that for?” Harley grumbles, pushing his curly brown hair out of his face.

Still holding Mary in your arms. Who’s wrapped around you like a baby koala. You move closer to your son. “I made pancakes.” You smile down at him, giving him a wink. His face softens a bit. “Mary and I didn’t want you to miss out. Isn’t that right?” She nods. You continue. “By having us eat all of them.” turning on your heel, you move towards the door of his room. “But if you would rather sleep-”

“No!” He cuts you off. The excitement for pancakes evident in his voice. Clearing his throat, he continues. “I’m awake now anyway…” he says, trying to put back his facade of disinterested, moody teenager. Not that you believe it for a second. Of course you would never tell him that. For now.

The three of you make your way into the kitchen. You serve up three plates of still warm pancakes. Piled high with extra berries and whipped cream. Extra special toppings for an extra special day. Every year on the Sunday before school starts, you make special, lemon zest and blueberry pancakes. Your kids all time favorite breakfast. It isn’t exclusively for the day before school. It’s for any special occasion. Because special occasions deserves special pancakes.

Grabbing your coffee, you join your kids at the kitchen table. With Mary to your right and Harley across from you. You smile wide at both of them. Before directing a question towards them. “Who’s excited for the first day of school?” The reactions you get from them are both very fitting for their characters. Mary all but bounces up and down. Harley on the other hand looks as if someone ate his pancakes.

His reaction is only fair. It’s their first day of school at their new schools, in a relatively new town. It’s been three months since you moved them here at the beginning of summer, and your kids still haven’t made many friends yet. Mary you aren’t worried about. You wouldn’t be surprised if she became friends with half the class by lunch.

Harley on the other hand, he’s never really fit in. Usually because people tend to misjudge him upon meeting. They don’t take the time to get to know him, or see how kind he can really be. And that scares you. A lot

Monday mornings are a lot different from Sunday’s. It’s a busy, hectic blur as you try to get your kids ready for school and yourself ready for work. Double and triple checking that everyone is ready and has all of their things. You head out the door. The three of you pile into your old truck. You pray it starts. You’re pretty sure Hayley prays it doesn’t. You breathe out a sigh of relief when it does. After a couple tries.

It’s a short, mostly quiet drive. Except for Mary’s excited ramblings. First it’s Mary’s stop. Planting a kiss on her forehead, she hops out of your truck. Her red polka dot dress twirls as she spins around to wave bye. Next is Harley’s school. Glancing over your heart breaks. He’s as close to the door as possible. Staring at the floor. “Har, what’s wrong?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. With him, even if you know what’s going on in his mind. It’s best to ask, otherwise he’ll clam up. Stop talking all together.

A few minutes pass in silence. When you pull up to his school. He finally speaks. “Can’t I just stay home today. It’s not like we’re learning anything important. Just intro to classes.” He mumbles, you almost don’t hear what he says. “Ok,” you state plainly. When he looks at you, his hazel eyes stare at you with gratitude. “Really?” He says louder this time. You nod. “They’ll teach you things you already know. So why go. Right?” He nods again.

Then you look at him fully, face serious. But not angry or upset in anyway. Your eyes remain soft. “But, you can’t do that. No you’re Harley y/l/n and you love school. You love to learn. To build new things.” Pausing, you make sure he’s still listening. He is. You watch as his once hopeful eyes changes to something else. You continue to look at him, despite his eyes shifting towards the ground. You continue. “And sure, people suck. But I hear they have an awesome math and physics teacher. And don’t even get me started on the science lab.”

When his eyes meet yours again, you wink. It pulls a smile from him. It’s tiny, barely even there. But a smile nonetheless.

“Thanks ma.” Saying in the tiniest of voices, he grabs his bag off of the floor, placing it in his lap. “You’re gonna crush it, Har.” Your words are genuine. You mean it. He’s the smartest kid you know. He’s already built three robots and you know he’ll build more. Which is why the school isn’t the part that worries you. But you don’t say that. He doesn’t need to know you worry about that too.

A soft click of his seatbelt and a hand hovering over the door handle. He hesitates. “I love you.” Turning around, he wraps you in a hug. Whispering his words in your ear. “I love you too.” With that he disappears as he enters the small brown building. You head to work. Trying not to worry about your kids.

———

Taglist: @emmandhercoffecrisp // @imma-new-soul

#marvelfulxbabeswritingchallenge #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #teacher!au #teacher!steve rogers #single mom!reader #something borrowed series #something borrowed part one #steve rogers fluff #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #writing #rae writes

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some-writer · 4 years

Text

Bathroom Talks ft: Bill Denbrough

Bathroom talks are talks you have in the bathroom. Unintentionally you find yourselves in the bathroom together, enjoying each other’s company or comforting each other.

- You and Bill have known each other since before you two even started school.

- Your mother being close friends with his parents, often watched over him when they worked or were going out.

- Which was completely okay because the two of you were best friends and enjoyed the sleepovers.

- ANYWAY

- One day after running all the way to Bill’s house, a few houses down from yours.

- His parents were still away at work, and he had just gotten home from school

- You let yourself in, having found the extra key under the doormat outside

- You tip toe the stairs, hoping to scare Bill, a little game you two play (before IT)

- Noticing the lights in the bathroom on, you slam the door open, clearly not thinking about “what if he’s actually USING the bathroom”

- and of course he is

- The both of you scream, and you quickly get out, shouting apologies as you slam the door shut.

- ...”you scream like a little girl-“

- “S-sh-shut up i-I d-do not!”

- The both of you burst out into giggles

- And you stay, leaning against and talking through the door, until he’s done.

but that was just the beginning

- Soon the bathroom talks evolve

- Your mom eventually starts working again, and decides that you are old enough to take care of yourself for a few hours

- which you QUICKLY agree to

- You find yourself hanging over with Bill and (now) Little Georgie

- Or sometimes they just stay with you

- One day while you were showering, you heard a small knock at the door along with a small muffled shout.

- Getting slightly irritated due to not being able to hear the person correctly and knowing it was Bill or your mom

- you go ahead and give them permission to come in

- Bill is 101% shocked

- “di-did she ju-just t-t-tell me to-“

- He gets all flustered and confused, but slowly creaks the door open and keeps his head still outside not looking

- “J-just wa-wanted to t-tell you th-that w-we’re he-here-“

- you peek outside of the shower curtain and smiled at his shyness, “hey Bill, what do you want to eat for dinner??”

- and just like that he opened the door a bit more, peeking into the bathroom, smiling happily when he sees your hair sticking up in different directions from the shampoo you were playing with

- “Ni-nice h-hairstyle.”

- “Thanks it was free-“

- laughter

eventually you two get used to it

- you stomped to Billy’s house, annoyed at everyone

- Henry fucking Bowers started another rumor

- and at first you didn’t car but then you found out it was about you

- you stomp into the home, giving Georgie a quick hug and a small kiss on the forehead, because he said “hi” and you didn’t want to be mad at him.

- And then you continue your march to the bathroom

- You open the door without hesitation, ignoring Bill’s shocked cry

- “y-y/n!! w-what ar-are you do-doing I-I-“

- “HES SUCH A FUCKING DICK!!”

- Bill automatically shuts up, and bites his lip, trying to cover himself and clean up

- you pace around the bathroom and continue to rant, not looking at him for the obvious reason, but needing someone to listen to you

- And Bill does

- He sighs when he’s done washing his hands

- And by then you’re close to tears.

- Bill simply hugs you, letting you cry about how stupid Henry was and how he probably had the smallest dick ever.

- The two of you laugh at that one.

- And after that day, there really wasn’t any barriers.

then Georgie’s incident happened

- you were at home

- completely oblivious of it

- you had been home for the past days, sick in bed

- and your mom hadn’t heard the news yet, all she heard was that something happened to the youngest son of her friends

- that was it all it took to put you on edge all day

- you were in the bathroom, sitting on the ground with your head on the bathtub

- you had come down with a small stomach bug, so being next to the toilet was the safest option.

- you heard him before you saw him

- Bill let out small sniffles and whimpers as he entered the bathroom

- and your heart shattered at the sight

- Bill sobbed, quickly falling down to his knees and hugging you tightly, mumbling George’s name over again and how it was his fault

- You cried.

- Cried for Georgie, who was like a younger brother to you and was too small to be out in the world alone lost

- Cried for Bill, who loved his brother so much, too young to be going through the heartbreak.

- The two of you were stuck there for hours, just crying.

- Eventually you convinced Bill that it wasn’t his fault, that he was a great older brother, and that Georgie wouldn’t want him to feel that way.

- your mom ended up finding the two of you passed out on the bathroom rug.

because of your wonderful and awful times in the bathroom with Billy, IT used this to mess with you the most.

- you were most vulnerable in the bathroom

- and he had appeared to you in your shower

- turning off the lights

- “b-billy that isn’t funny- turn on the lights!”

- “Who’s Billy?”

- You had never screamed so loud in your life, trying to get away from the person on the other side of the curtain

- “BOO!”

- You screamed and cried, staring at the wicked clown in front of you, blood dripping from its lips.

- “why the long face y/n? you scared?”

- as he inched closer you shut your eyes tightly, a whimper leaving your mouth as the air got tense and a horrid smell filled your senses

- you gagged

- “you fucking stink-“

- and just before IT could do anything, Bill entered the bathroom, turning on the lights.

- and the clown was gone

- “Y-y/n!! W-wha— w-why we-were you s-showering wi-with the l-lights o-off?”

- you quickly wrapped yourself in a towel, shaken up about what happened

- but Bill wasn’t looking at your body, he was looking at the look of pure fear in your eyes

- “y/n..”

- you sniffled and tried to take deep breaths

- Bill stiffened and quickly sat you down on the edge of the tub, hugging you tightly, and reminding you to breathe

- you never felt more safe than in that moment.

it was safe to say that during the time the Losers and yourself were tracking down IT

- Bill was glued to your side

- Everyday the two of you would sneak out of class and slip in the bathrooms

- Not wanted to get caught by teachers in the hallway

- Eventually the two of you were caught, by none other than Richie.

- “WHAT THE FUCK- WHAT’S SHE DOING IN THE BOYS BATHROOM- but wait- WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU GUYS WERE HOOKING UP-“

- the two of you facepalmed

- the losers eventually got over it, Richie making inappropriate lewd jokes about the two of you “talking” in the bathroom

- to which, as usual, everyone ignored

- it was your guys coping mechanism

And it didn’t go away, not even after IT

- “Bill?”

- “Ye-yeah, y/n?”

- “..i like you.”

Bill’s bright blue eyes met yours, you could see flashes of different emotions in them. Bill had always been quick to read, at least for you. His mouth was agape, and he quickly stood up from his spot on the toilet. He wasn’t using it, but the two of you had stayed in the bathroom after he had been.

“I-I-“

You looked down at your hands, picking at your slightly chipped nails that you chewed on when you got anxious. “I like you. It’s okay if you don’t like me back, just.. I want you to know is all.” You shrugged and looked back at him, surprised at how neutral he looked. He didn’t have any sort of emotion on his face, he was thinking.

The only thing you saw was his baby blue eyes, how soft they had gotten. Your stomach flipped and you took a deep breath, preparing for the worst.

“You’re silly.”

You frowned and opened your mouth, about to protest, you felt a rush of annoyance. But Bill beat you to it, kissing your cheek softly, leaving you speechless.

“You’re s-silly,” Bill took a shaky breath, trying his best not to stutter, “for thinking that I don’t like you back.” He smiled at your facial expression watching it change from annoyed to surprised in seconds.

You smiled sheepishly at him, giving him a small nudge from your place on top of the counter. “What a charmer.” You gave him a quick peak on the cheek.

“You didn’t stutter that time!”

“oh s-shut up.”

“Spoke too soon!”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

so that as long- but I hope you enjoyed it!! :,) I loved writing it. Let me know what you guys think! I’m excited to write about the IT characters and cast!

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough x you #reader insert #it chapter two #it chapter one #bathroom talks #first post #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough headcanons

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mars-barssss · 4 years

Note

Hi! For the whump bingo ask, can I ask for "Apologizing right before they pass out" with Patton? Thank you.

//I’m really sorry about this being so late! Also, sorry to the two other asks for a while ago, I’m gonna finish these up before continuing. Life got a bit hectic but I’ll get back on it!

An Illogical Feeling

Pairing: Logicality

TW: Blood, Near Character Death (But not actual character death!), Stab Wounds

Type: ANGST

//College!Au and Human!Au, to let you know!

Summary: Logan gets a call from his best, no, a really close friend. He learns something new about himself.

—

Ring…! Ring…!

The ringing of the phone mixed with the loud movie that was blasting on the TV. Roman didn’t pay any mind to it, as his eyes were trained on whatever action movie they happened to be watching.

Logan himself was reading a book, however. He was paying no mind to the movie. He had no interest in it, anyways.

Roman had invited him to watch a movie over in his dorm, and he didn’t really care for the choice of movie that he chose. Truthfully, Logan just was tired of waiting for his own roommates to come home, and although he wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t want to be alone.

There was something so suffocating about being alone. It was illogical at best, he should be fine with that. But he had gotten used to the conversations and sounds that dulled the silence, that he couldn’t just avoid it! He didn’t know if that meant he was getting weak, or otherwise. Either way, he simply had told Roman he’d be over, but not to watch. Roman didn’t get much of a response to his next text, before said friend arrived at his door.

And the moment that Logan stepped inside showed just how lonely Roman was too. Or at least, bored. Pillows and blankets coated the couches and a bean bag chair was pulled up in the living room. The movie was looping on the menu screen, and there were some blankets specifically placed as like a cover. A true… pillow fort.

When questioned, Roman had shrugged it off, mumbling something about how his emo roommate not being home for the next two hours and his other being at a debate competition for the weekend.

As Logan recalled this, a loud shout pulled him out of his thoughts. The scene kid continued to shout as a lion, apparently, was hanging by the edge of a cliff, and screaming for help from the other lion.

“Mufasa, you could just like, I don’t know, climb to the left slightly, there’s a branch right there-!”

Roman continued to argue nonsensically at these characters, who Logan didn’t even know the names of, and who would also not hear Roman’s arguments, until eventually the lion fell off of the cliff. That left Roman with a loud irritated shout.

Logan scoffed slightly, smiling. He returned to his book.

Ring…! Ring…!

Oh. Right. The phone. The phone that was still ringing.

It was Roman’s phone, so obviously, he should answer it. It wasn’t in Logan’s place to answer it. It could be personal. But his that dumb drama student just wouldn’t stop whining the screen. Honestly, Logan didn’t know why it bugged him so much. Maybe because it didn’t merge with the background sound of the movie.

Maybe it was because of a strange feeling in his stomach. He didn’t even know why it was there, but earlier when it first started, he nearly wanted to take some medicine. He was probably just getting sick, to be honest. It was winter, after all.

Speaking of winter, Logan glimpsed out of Roman’s dorm window. It had actually began to snow, after Logan arrived. Something about it excited him, because he hadn’t seen snow in so long. That however, didn’t last long. The snow also made him worry for Roman’s roommates, as well as his home. The roads would be slippery, and honestly his roommate should have been home a while ago. Anxiously, Logan checked his phone, tapping his foot lightly on the carpet.

6:48 PM

Ring…! Ring…!

Logan shuffled slightly, getting to messaging app to try to contact him again. Logan did not like the idea of spamming people, it was rude. Honestly, they’d respond back when they did get the chance, but this time, his stomach was almost doing figurative flips. His stomach was figuratively flipping?

He didn’t really pay too much mind to the half-cooked metaphor as he scrolled through today’s messages and typed a new message.

___

Today

1:30 AM Patty-Cake: GO TO BED

1:30 AM Patty-Cake: I can c ur light on

Patty-Cake changed Crofters’s nickname to hey.

Patty-Cake changed hey’s nickname to LogAN gET SoME FLIpPiNG sLEEP.

1:37 AM LogAN gET SoME FLIpPiNG sLEEP: I need to get this essay done.

1:38 AM Patty-Cake: u got that essay last night, it’s due in two weeks

1:40 AM LogAN gET SoME FLIpPiNG sLEEP: Better to get it done early.

1:43 AM Patty-Cake: Comin to ur room rn

1:43 AM LogAN gET SoME FLIpPiNG sLEEP: What?

2:11 AM Patty-Cake: ILY nightt

Patty-Cake changed LogAN gET SoME FLIpPiNG sLEEP’s nickname to Stargazer.

12:34 PM Patty-Cake: Lo!!! I got a role!! SO EXCITED!!! :D

12:34 PM Patty-Cake: Ro’s gonna be so happy! He’s been trying to get me into the play for weeeeeeeeks

Patty-Cake changed Patty-Cake’s nickname to AAAAAAAA.

12:36 PM Stargazer: That’s nice. Congratulations.

12:36 PM AAAAAAAA: Emile’s calling! C u at home im gonna be making cookies

2:03 PM AAAAAAAA : Do u want burgers tonite?

AAAAAAAA changed AAAAAAAA’s nickname to Patty-Cake

2:03 PM Patty-Cake: Gotta fix my name one sec

5:30 PM Stargazer: Patton, please respond. Where are you? You should have been home a half an hour ago.

6:48 PM Stargazer: Patton, are you home yet? If you are not, it is snowing outside, please drive carefully.

Patty-Cake didn’t pick up. 0:03

6:50 PM Stargazer: You’re worrying me, please call back.

___

“Get off your electronics, Microsoft Nerd!” Ahead of him, Roman was a leaning backwards, giving him a pointed stare. His lips were pouting as he pointed at his phone. The movie was paused. “Thought you were gonna be on your book, not your phone!”

“I was reading my book. I only went to go check the time on here.�� Logan deadpanned, pocketing his phone. A small glance to Roman’s home phone made Roman shout at him again.

…

“Really? I could heard you typing! You aren’t even paying attention to me right now!” He huffed, sitting up in the chair, still staring at Logan. “See you’re just staring at my phone for some odd reason, at least give me a straight answer.”

Turning back to Roman, Logan’s expression was dulled out, kind of a tired ‘what are you even going on about’ face. “Just unpause the movie, Roman.”

“Alright, whatever, just don’t text during the movie! Puh-lease!” The movie was unpaused, and the volume replaced the silence immediately. It blasted through Logan’s ears the moment it came back on, the stark difference surprising the engineering major. He didn’t realize that the phone stopped ringing.

Everything continued as normal.

Only until a few minutes later.

Ding!…

___

6:58 PM Patty-Cake: l

6:58 PM Patty-Cake: logan

___

Logan quickly grabbed his phone, his hands shaking slightly as he scrambled for the messaging app. Oh, he was going to rip Patton a new one for scaring him.

___

6:59 PM Stargazer: Patton, why didn’t you respond to me all afternoon?

6:59 PM Stargazer: Patton

7:01 PM Patty-Cake: hlp me pls

7:01 PM Stargazer: What’s wrong?

Patty-Cake didn’t pick up. 0:01

7:03 PM Patty-Cake: guy cme up behnd me

___

By now, Logan has stood up, staring down his phone. This felt wrong, this felt so, so wrong. Glancing away for a brief moment, Roman had also gotten up from his beanbag, although his intention was different.

“Hey pocket protector! What in the world are you doing?!” Roman nudged his shoulder, although not unkindly. “You’re panicking dude, come on, breathe.” A hand landed on his shoulder, but Logan didn’t acknowledge it. He was on the screen to call Patton, consistently trying to call the other.

Roman looked at Logan’s phone nervously, before tightening his grip on the other’s shoulder.

___

Patty-Cake didn’t pick up. 0:02

Patty-Cake didn’t pick up. 0:01

7:05 PM Patty-Cake: over by th aprtmns alleyway

7:05 PM Stargazer: Why aren’t you answering?!

7:05 PM Stargazer: Why aren’t you calling the police?

7:06 PM Stargazer: Patton

You called Patty-Cake.

___

Finally one of the calls went through. As Logan looked at the video on the call, there was just black, and all he heard at first was gasps, and clearly a choking sound. The phone moved from what sounded like the ground, into the air, slightly. The phone was shaking from the place it was held, showing only concrete.

“Patton-?! Patton, are you there?”

The phone jolted again, as it sounded like he was trying to sit up. “L…Logan?…”

“Yeah, Patton, it’s me. Where are you?! Tell me where you are!” The phone uneasily shakes in Logan’s hands. He’s already walking towards the apartment door, keeping his eyes on the call desperately. As the door opened, he winced at the choke-like gasps coming from the other end of the call. Roman quickly followed after him as he rushed down the staircase, not waiting for the elevator.

“Logan… L… I…” Several more coughs came through as the phone was pulled back towards Patton. The camera jolted as he coughed. His hand came into view of the camera for a moment, and Logan stopped breathing for a moment as he stood in the front door of the dorm.

Dark red blood stained his hands and the snow around him. The arm itself was shaking either from fear, or the cold winds. Another wheeze came through, before Logan saw that Patton was beginning to drop the phone, falling forward in the process.

“Patton, don’t fall asleep! Please! Tell us where you-!”

All of a sudden, a loud thump was heard on the call, as the camera went dark. The call was still on, but Patton must have passed out on it. Soft uneven breathing came through the speaker.

“P-Patton!”

His head turned up sharply as he could hear just how much he was hyperventilating. He stared at Roman, his eyes watering from his fear how tired he was. “R-Roman.”

Roman touched his shoulder, his words fumbling right out of his mouth with how quickly he spoke. “He stayed late at the theater, and he said he was near the dorms in an alleyway, he’s probably that way-” Roman gestures to Logan’s left. “I’ll call the police to this area, call me when you find him- I’ll lead the ambulance there, okay?! You just focus on finding him!” He shoves Logan to the left, as he pulls out his own phone quickly, his boots stomping through the now-thicker snow.

Logan briefly nods before running off to the left. If you asked Roman, Logan never runs for anything, unless he is genuinely scared, which is rare. Nothing could ever get him to run, but now, he was going as fast as he could on the slippery ice and snow.

“PATTON-!”

Glancing down every alleyway there was, he held the phone close, listening to the soft, weakened breathing, to make sure he was alive. After a few moments, Logan stumbles after hearing a hitch in the other student’s breathing, before he couldn’t hear it anymore! His own breathing hitches, as tears spill down his eyes.

“PATTON!”

He sprints off again, desperately looking down every alleyway and corner, until finally, he spots Patton’s cardigan down one of them, abandoned.

Turning sharply into it, he reached the cardigan, picking it up shakily, and holding it close. A small whimper snaps his head towards the right, where Patton was laying, a few feet away. Logan stumbles forward desperately, falling to his knees beside Patton, who’s eyes were closed with a light layer of ice on them, and breathing that was barely heard.

“Patton, can you hear me?!”

He pulled the other into his lap, trying to warm him up. The moment he saw his stomach, where a stab wound festered, he shoved his hand on it, giving it pressure, despite all of the blood that surrounded them. His other hand grasped at his phone, dialing Roman’s number, the other continuing to hold the unresponsive student in his lap. Once the call went through, he quickly blurted out the area they were in, and set his phone the ground without a care. The now empty hand hesitated, before taking one of Patton’s in his own.

“Patton, wake up! Please, wake up!”

Patton didn’t know who was speaking, but someone was speaking.

He didn’t know who was shaking him, but someone was shaking him.

He didn’t know who was saving him, but someone was-

He opened his eyes to see a blurry mess of blues and blacks. A small groan forced it’s way out of him as he struggled to move, only realize the hand that pushed down on his stomach. A whimper was heard as he felt the pain that grew from the pressure, before he felt himself get moved around slightly, his back against the wall of a dorm.

His eyelids drooped slowly, as his whole body longed to be on the floor again, as he longed to sleep. Suddenly, his hearing came back and-

“-tton! Stay awake! Don’t fall asleep!”

Logan’s voice blasted throughout his whole body, it just felt so loud. Everything suddenly felt so loud, and his stomach hurt so badly. The rocks beneath him felt so cold, so very cold, and… sticky. Why… Why was it sticky?

“Pa-” His hearing went out again as he blinked over and over, trying to get a better view. Eventually, he can see who the figure above him was. Logan.

Some fellow student. Some nerd. A stoic acquaintance, who hid his emotions. A person who helped him with math homework, who didn’t care how dumb he was. A childhood friend, who tried to avoid him. A stargazing dork, who stayed late up until four in the morning to see a comet. A friend, who didn’t leave him, even if it meant he got bullied by the same kids that bullied him. His partner in crime, who begrudgingly joined him with a prank on the bullies. His only friend, who would let him ramble listlessly all night. His best friend, who took care of him when he was bedridden, and called for Roman to bring blankets and watch movies with them until he was better.

One of the most important people in the world to him, who was slowly fading away into the darkness that clouded Patton’s vision.

“Lo…” Patton’s voice whimper out through the pain, his hand squeezing Logan’s, as strong as he could. Which wasn’t that strong, but it was something. Logan’s eyes darted right back to Patton’s, and for the first time that Patton ever knew, he was crying. A sudden shiver wracked Patton’s body, and he tore his gaze away from the other to try to contain heat.

Some of Logan’s tears hit Patton in the cheek, sliding down his face. Logan’s breathing rose again as he watched Patton carefully, and held him away from all of the snow that had gathered around him. Quickly shifting his jacket off of him, he wrapped it around Patton, and held it closer once more. “Patton, stay awake for me, okay? You can hear me, right?”

Patton stiffly nodded, as another shiver made him shrink into Logan’s jacket. He looked so… small. His voice wasn’t much bigger than how he looked, rasping at the edges. “Y-Y-Y-Ye-eah. I-I can he-ear you.”

“G-Good, you’re okay, you’re gonna be fine.” Logan muttered those reassurances under his breath as he looked back at the main road, waiting. Waiting for the inevitable sirens to come down it. At any time now. “You’ll be fine.”

“Logan…” Patton felt it inside of him. Something inside of him was wilting, like a dying rose. He didn’t know if it was because of all of the red around him, or the frost that nipped at his wrists. His body felt like it falling apart, one thing at a time. His fingers, then his wrists, then his arms. Something deep down in him was fading, and he was scared, because his eyes won’t stay open, they won’t stay open, oh god, he’s falling he’s falling he’s falling-

But he’d always be there to catch him.

“Patton, come on. I’m going t-to pick you up now, is that okay?” The sound of sirens suddenly filled the absence of sound. Logan’s voice barely wavered, his ability to hold in his emotions from the outside was something Patton wished he was better at to be honest. But right now, Patton was sure his expression was only either pained, or nothing. He didn’t feel much of anything. Not emotionally, but neither the cold that tore at his limbs.

He was so tired. He was so… so cold.

He couldn’t even nod his head to let Logan know he heard him.

“Patton, can you hear me? We have to go!” Logan’s voice cracked. It was a little detail, but Patton knew just how much it meant. Logan was scared. But Patton couldn’t reach for him anymore, he was too numb. His head rolled to the side, looking at the pavement as Logan tried to move him. “Pat!”

Pat. That’s a nickname that Patton hadn’t heard for years. At least, not from Logan.

Maybe he should change his nickname to it again.

“Patton, please, don’t close your eyes, the ambulance is here! I’m sorry if you don’t want to be picked up, but I have to move you.” Logan shook him slightly, the movement only rolling his limp head around more. When he looked at Logan, he could only see beauty. He could only see his best friend, as if the whole world didn’t exist at that moment. The world faded into the background, grays and blues and whites. Snow flew around them as Logan carried him. It was a wonderful world.

Where he had no wounds and wasn’t dying right now.

He didn’t feel any pain, he could only see his best friend holding him close. And perhaps it was just the blood-loss speaking, but he knew at that moment just how much he did love the man who was saving him. The world shifted around him, and he didn’t care. He didn’t notice. His head rolling slightly, but his eyes were trained on Logan.

He looked so sad. Why was he so sad? Scared too. He didn’t like Logan when he was scared. He didn’t want him to be sad. He wanted him to be happy!

He kept looking sadder whenever he faced him as they walked forward, with snow fluttering around him. Did he do something wrong?…

If he did, he was so sorry. He felt so guilty. He felt sore, but he didn’t care. He’d feel sore all day if it meant he wasn’t sad. He had to say something, to apologize for… whatever he did. He just had to get that sad face off of him. He didn’t care about what it was, he just wanted him to be happy.

With the last of his strength, he reached up towards Logan’s face, and in return Logan’s face snapped towards Patton. His thumb weekly traced a tear as his hand shook and fell to his chest.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Lo.”

It was clear, if not raspy. And as he uttered it, he heard Logan. Not really though, the words were so muffled and quiet, it was if he had whispered it, and Patton wasn’t close enough. But he heard him speak, whatever he was saying, as his head rolled back limply against Logan’s arm, and his eyelids fluttered shut.

And they didn’t open back up.

Logan didn’t know he could cry, but almost losing his best friend taught him that.

___

//There we go! Let me know if you want a sequel to it! And I’m gonna get to work with the other asks! Have a great day!

#sandersides #sanders sides #roman #patton #logicality #logan

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