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writemywaytoyourheart · 4 years

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BTS Reaction: When They're Whipped For You

Requested: yEs

a/n: your bitz is back from her unofficial hiatus. Miss me?

Genre: fluffff

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KIM SEOKJIN:

"Princess, I'm home!" Jin calls the second he walks into the house. He sets his things in the coat closet, then plops himself onto the couch with a tired groan. A few moments later, you walk out from the back, a book in your hands that you're reading while you walk. You look up, and a huge smile breaks out on your face when you see him. "Jin!" You drop your book on the couch and climb into his lap, causing him to chuckle because of how cute you are.

After you give him a big hug, you pull back and smile when he leans forward to kiss you on the lips sweetly. "How was your day, sweetie?" He asks kindly, covering your face in feathery kisses. You giggle at the ticklish feeling his lips leave, "Oh it was alright. How was practice?" "Tiring." He mumbles, still leaving little kisses on your cheeks. When he eventually pulls away, he glances down and sees that you're dressed in one of his giant t-shirts, and you're basically swimming in it. "Aw, you look so cute." Jin laughs. Your cheeks turn pink at his words and you try to hide your face in his shoulder, making him laugh again. "Goodness, y/n. What am I to do with you?" Jin wraps his arms around you tighter, a smile gracing his handsome features as he listens to your soft breath. "I love you."

MIN YOONGI:

"Yoongi! Yoongi! Listen to this, listen." Your boyfriend looks up from his laptop and swivels around in his chair to face you, who has just come into his studio. "What's up, baby?" You sit on the couch across from his chair and hold your phone up, then you clear your throat and push play on your phone. One of Yoongi's songs starts coming from the speaker and he looks at you in confusion. Then it all makes sense when the rap comes on. Your boyfriend tries his best to keep it together, but when you start trying to rap along to his part, you're just too cute for him to handle. He starts to chuckle, but you're too engrossed on getting the words and tempo right that you don't even notice. After the song finishes, there's a giant smile on your face. "How'd I do?" Yoongi smothers the giggle coming up and looks at you with a serious expression before giving you a thumbs up. "You did great!" "Yay!" You jump up and wrap your arms around his neck, "Does that mean I can do a song with you sometime?" Yoongi laughs as he holds you close, "I'd love that. Let's do it."

JUNG HOSEOK:

"Hobi? Will you watch my dance and give me some pointers?" You ask shyly, your hands wringing together. Your fiance looks up and a bright smile spreads across his face, "Sure, babe!" After you've gotten the music set up, you get into position in front of the couch where he's sitting. You nervously rock back and forth, then you see him smile at you encouragingly and your worries dissapate. The second the music starts and Hoseok recognizes it as one of BTS' songs, his eyes sparkle. You're doing your best, but the nerves come back when it's Hoseok's dance break. You wanted to learn his part and perform it just for him. But Hobi is a professional, and you feel like his moves are way out of your league. When the song finishes, you bow and smile, Hoseok stands up and claps loudly, "You did amazing, love!" "Thanks." You say uncertainly, feeling a bit self-conscious about the dance break still. Hoseok senses it immediately and walks over to hug you. "I messed up the dance break, though." Hobi shakes his head, then he turns you around and holds you so that your back is pressed against his chest, then he takes your hands and holds them out to the sides. "Just go like this," He moves your hands with his, "And this. That's all there is to it." You smile as he starts to move your arms and makes you do a silly dance. Soon the both of you are laughing and dancing around the living room, Hobi smiling and watching you sweetly the entire time.

KIM NAMJOON:

Namjoon looks up from his phone, where he's been talking to their manager about a few things concerning the upcoming shows. He's pretty stressed about all the changes they're going to have to make to make sure it's perfect. But when he glances at you from over his phone, a small smile forms on his face. You're sitting on the couch with your legs crossed, your nose in your sketchbook as you glance up at him every once in a while. When you look up and see him watching you, your cheeks turn pink and you set your pencil down. Namjoon speaks gently, "Don't stop, keep drawing. Sorry, I distracted you." You shake your head at that, "You didn't distract me." "What are you drawing?" Namjoon asks, his gaze dropping to your sketchbook. "Uh, nothing." "It can't be nothing." Namjoon chuckles, then scoots closer to you, "May I see it? I love your drawings." Your cheeks turn even pinker and you clutch the sketchbook to your chest. "It isn't finished yet...but if you really want to see..." Namjoon nods eagerly, his face brightening when you open the little book and turn it to show him. On the crisp white paper, is him. Namjoon blinks, then leans in closer. "Me? You were drawing me?" He asks in disbelief as his eyes scan the image on the paper. It looks amazing, so lifelike. "Babe, this is awesome!" He suddenly exclaims, startling you. Namjoon feels his own cheeks start to heat up at the thought that you've been watching him quietly and drawing such a beautiful picture, the way you see him. "Thank you." You mumble shyly. You're taken by surprise when Namjoon pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his head into the space between your neck and shoulder. "I love you, y/n." "I love you too, Joonie." Your boyfriend sighs happily and hugs you tighter, "I'm so lucky to have you."

PARK JIMIN:

Just as you're dipping your mop into the bucket of water to get started on mopping the kitchen, the next song comes on and you smile when you hear the Disney tune start to play. The next minute, you're dancing around the kitchen and singing your heart out. You're home alone, so why not? After you're done with the mopping, you wring out the mop and put it away, still humming to the happy tunes. Then you move into the living room and start pulling all the movies out of the little cupboard you and your husband keep them in. You don't hear the front door open over the music from Beauty and The Beast that's now coming from the speakers as you sing along loudly. Jimin sets his things down and pulls off his shoes, a smile growing on his face when he hears your voice singing to the Disney song. He comes around the corner and sees you sorting through the movies and organizing them as you hum. His heart flips over in his chest as he watches you quietly. Unaware of your audience, you just keep organizing, then you get a weird feeling that someone is watching you, so you turn and see your husband leaning against the wall and smiling sweetly at you. "Oh, you scared me." You say as you get up and move to the speaker that's still playing. You pause the music and turn to see Jimin has come closer and he's reaching for your hands. You let him take them and he pulls you into a close hug. "You're so cute, what am I supposed to do with you?" He mumbles into your hair, and you smile. "Just love me." You reply cheekily and you feel Jimin laugh. "Always."

KIM TAEHYUNG:

"Tae! Tae wake up!" Taehyung groans in protest when he feels you pounce on him in your excitement. "It's Christmas! Wake up!" You squeal and start trying to tickle him. Your boyfriend laughs tiredly as he grabs your hands to stop you from tickling him, "What time is it?" "Seven." Another groan leaves his mouth, "When did you get here?" "Just five minutes ago, Jin let me in. He said to come and wake you up." Taehyung finally peels his eyes open and he's greeted with your face. He smiles sleepily, "You're so beautiful. Merry Christmas, baby." "Thank you." You say shyly, "Merry Christmas, Taetae." Then you hop off his bed, "Come on! Jin made breakfast and we'll open presents after food he says!" Then you run out of his bedroom and he hears you talking to his oldest brother. Tae chuckles as he forces himself to get up and dress. After breakfast, you and the rest of Bangtan and some of their girlfriends, are all sitting around the Christmas tree. There are presents piled up and pouring around the base. Tae watches you happily as you tear the wrapping paper from your presents and your eyes light up with every single present you get, big or small. At one point, you look over and see him watching you and you send him a big smile. Tae scoots over and places a sweet kiss on your cheek, "I think I love you too much, it isn't good for my heart." That makes you giggle and you cuddle into him, making his heart race. Tae puts his arm around you, keeping you happy and warm. He just can't get enough of you, that's for sure.

JEON JUNGKOOK:

"Do you want a bite of mine?" Jungkook holds his chocolate iced donut out to you and smiles sweetly. You nod and reach over to take it, then you take a small bite before handing it back. "Mmm! It's delicious! Wanna try mine?" You hand over your jelly-filled donut when Jungkook nods happily, then you take it back after he's had a bite. "I love food." Jungkook hums happily and you nod before taking another bite, "Me too." You say around the bite of donut in your mouth. Your boyfriend looks up and laughs when he sees chocolate icing around your mouth, "Honey, you have something on your face." "Oh, I do?" Your cheeks turn pink and you thank him quietly when he reaches over with a napkin and gently wipes the corners of your mouth clean. "There you go, all better." "Thanks, Koo." "Anytime, love." The two of you keep eating, but you don't notice the way Jungkook stares at you with heart eyes as you devour the sweet treat. Your cheeks are constantly stuffed like a little squirrel and his heart does little tumbles in his chest. "I love you." You look up at him, your mouth full. Then a smile spreads on your face from his words. "I love you too, Koo. And donuts!"

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a/n: I've missed you honeybunches

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

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Don’t Feed The Flames - Bucky Barnes x (f)reader, Natasha x platonic (f) reader

Summary: Bucky has made you angry after a tough mission with the crew, why you ask? Apparently he thinks it’s totally fine to run inside a burning building to help you complete the mission in question.

Warning: bit of angst, mostly a good time with the team, Bucky fluff shoved in ur welcome

-reader has fire powers btw, I don’t wanna confuse anyone lol

Masterlist

The mission was difficult to say the least, successful in its own right, but tough for everyone involved. All the Avengers were needed for this clusterfuck of a mission, minus Bruce and Thor who are elsewhere in the universe, lucky them.

All the team needed to do was infiltrated one of the last highly armed Hydra bases left in existence, get rid of the artillery and boom, slither right on in. Objective? Snatch valuable intel as to where the other bases are hiding, and surprise surprise, you and Wanda had to take care of some very pissed off experimentees who were unfortunately brainwashed beyond the point of helping them recover.

Ending the night in everyone quickly evacuating the premise with the essentials while you stayed back to blow up the base to nothing more then bricks and ash. Although during this, Bucky stayed back to shoot some freelancers who tried to take you the fuck out, with what would you know it; flame throwers.

Apparently Hydra is greatly lacking in weapons and functioning brain cells, among other things. Granted, you understood Bucky’s concern for your well-being when he ran into the fire. But oh dear lord were you not happy with him one goddamn bit.

Luckily Sam was able to pluck him out before anything fell on your idiot boyfriend while you were producing mass destruction in the giant airplane storage area. In the aftermath, you came out unharmed but covered in smudge marks and burnt off cloves yet again.

Bucky? Well he came away with a pissed off girlfriend and his life to say the least. And let’s just say the long four hour ride back was a tad bit awkward, even if you were too damn exhausted to show your irritation with Bucky. The team sure as hell knew he wasn’t going to be spared of your wrath when the jet landed.

It took approximately ten seconds for your man to shuffle out of your line of sight, using Steve as a shield to hide behind while they walked out. You had been distracted when Natasha asked for something picked up, then suddenly your mind was on Bucky. A moment later you stomped out of the Quinjet in pursuit of the one and only James Buchanan Barnes as he awaited your fury.

“James!” You growl fiercely, “You are the most fucking reckless person I’ve ever fucking met and I’m literally friends with Tony!” You snap while the rest of your teammates go about their business, trying to listen yet smartly staying out of everything.

“I know.” Mutters Bucky like a kicked puppy suffering his mother’s wrath, blue eyes looking at you with regret clearly visible on his handsome face.

“You know! You know!? Then why the fuck would you just run into the flames like that!” You shout while throwing your arms into the air in frustration, “You’re not fire proof Bucky!”

“Y/N...”

“Do you have a goddamn death wish!?” You interrupt, giving him a dumbfounded look as he glances from Steve to the floor then back to you again, trying to find something or someone with enough pity to help him.

He finds none, “Well....no.” Your brows raise yet again at his short and annoyingly blunt answers to make up for his stupidly daring boldness.

“Then why-ugh, whatever never mind.” You dismiss with a wave of your hand before quickly turning on your heels to walk for the metal doors into the main part of the facility, while the others keep their distance from your heated state.

“Wait Y/N, come back I’m sorry!” Exclaims Bucky desperately while you continue to ignore your reckless man, “You’re right I shouldn’t have....ugh...come on babe....shit...” Mutters Bucky as he watches you leave him in such a heated state.

“Dude just let her cool off, oh uh well....no pun intended.” Jokes Sam with a shrug as Bucky watches you stomp away in frustration, your body almost sizzling with actual flame.

“I didn’t mean to....well...ugh, shit I guess I kind of did.” Admits Bucky with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as you slam the door shut with a loud thud, “Sometimes I forget fire can’t hurt her. I should have just let her handle the burning building herself instead of going inside when she uh, told me not to.”

Steve walks out of the Quinjet with a bag in hand to greet the two, “Y/N seemed a bit...”

“Pissed off.” Adds Sam with a light chuckle as Bucky frowns at the giant glass window.

“Yeah.” Mutters Steve awkwardly as he side eyes Bucky, “Well ugh, see you guys at dinner, I think Wanda and Vision are getting takeout from somewhere.”

“See ya Steve.”

“Bye.”

Sam and Bucky watch as Steve heads for the metal doors, soon he’s gone and the two are the only Avengers left in the giant parking garage of sorts.

“She’s going to hate me for the rest of the day I know it.” Sadly mutters Bucky, already missing your beautiful face no matter what state your in.

“I wouldn’t say it’s hate.”

“She’s going to be very disappointed in me then.”

“Yeah probably.”

Bucky gives him an offended look, “You’re supposed to say something uplifting or positive.”

“Man don’t look at me for relationship advice. This is Y/N we’re talking about, just give her a couple hours she’ll simmer down.” Inquirers Sam with a friendly pat on the back before he starts walking away for the door, as casually and unbothered as ever.

Bucky keeps silent for a moment while his mind swims with what to do next, suddenly he looks up at his retreating friend, “Hey Sam!” Shouts Bucky just as Sam opens up the door, causing him to stop and give his friend a quizzical look.

“What?!”

“Fuck you!”

Sam immediately snorts, “You brought this upon yourself brother!” And with that he shuts the door leaving Bucky alone and full of regret for putting himself in danger today when you specifically told him you could handle yourself.

Why is caring for someone so hard, wonders Bucky.

——

After taking a greatly needed shower and putting on a fresh new pair of comfortable clothing for the evening, you slipped past your friends rooms and away from where Bucky may be hiding.

Until at last you made it to Natasha’s door without being caught by anyone in the hallway and stopped for a needless conversation. Soon enough you slip into Nat’s room and saunter around for a bit as you wait for her to end her shower.

“Oh shit!” Gasps Natasha as soon as she opens the door and notices you poking around her stuff, “Jesus Y/N how’d you get in here!?”

“I opened the door.”

“I thought I locked it?”

“You did.”

Natasha gives you a puzzled look as you wander over to her nightstand, nonchalantly minding your business while picking up her current novel as she watches you curiously, “So uh, how’s it going?” She asks cautiously, well aware of your irritation with Bucky earlier that day.

Flipping through the pages you answer her honestly, “I’m fine now.”

Natasha nods before turning around to search through her drawers for an outfit, “I figured that much, considering if you were still pissed you’d be throwing fireballs into the cement wall downstairs.” She quips with her usual smirk as you gently close the book and set it back in its rightful place.

“That is.....true.” You agree with a shrug, “I’m just sending a message at this point.”

“Oh really?” Laughs Natasha while slipping on a shirt, “Poor Bucky then.”

“Yeah well he was being an idiot tough guy so....it’s what I’m doing.” You add with a lopsided smug grin, “Serves him right for being reckless with no regard for his physical safety. I love him but at what cost?”

“Someone needs to tell Steve that.” Mutters Natasha as she pulls on some sweatpants.

You chuckle, “What? That someone needs to tell Steve they love him? Not a bad idea.”

“That too.” Points Natasha, “I seriously don’t know how he’s not dead yet.”

Your brows furrow in thought for a moment, “He’s built like a stone sentinel with a will greater then many, he fears nothing.” You deadpan, face stoic and serious.

“Just about.” Laughs Natasha as you begin to cackle right along with her, in the middle of your laughing fit does the door suddenly burst open to reveal...

“Hello ladies.” Chirps Tony with an award winning smile, usual old T-shirt on and hair a bit of a mess though somehow managing to keep his Stark charm.

“I really need to get an automatic lock on that thing.” Mutters Nat to no one in particular.

“What’s up Stark.” You add with an acknowledging tilt of your head, “You here to bother us or tell us something interesting?”

“Everything I say is interesting my dear sparky.” Quips Tony with a brow wiggle.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right, anyways. Foods here.” Chides Tony as he sets a hand on his hip, “Unless you’re both too cool for movie night. More for us then, I’ll have Vision drop off our half eaten tacos.”

“We have tacos?” You ask with an intrigued raise of your brow, just wanting to confirm and make sure he’s not bluffing, you fucking love taco night.

“Yep.”

“How long have they been here?”

“Wanda and Vis just arrived so you’re the first two I found.” Oh, fuck yeah!

Turning your head to a smirking Natasha you smile back before bolting for the door, “Move Stark!” You snap before shoving him to the side and cackling as you and Natasha book it down the hall with Tony trying to keep up in the background. What can you say, Natasha always makes it a competition and its taco night. Sometimes you gotta play dirty.

Soon you and your assassin best friend who you tripped up before reaching the door finally skid into the Avengers giant lounging area. The room is relatively empty with the exception of Wanda and Vision who are seated at the large metal table near the kitchen where all the various paper bags of tacos are seated. And ripe for the taking.

Smelling absolutely delicious all tucked snug in their wrapping and filled with the most divine ingredients, you could just about die of happiness. With a beaming smile upon your face and the surprised expressions from your two friends you belt out loudly, “Tacos FUCK YEAH!” Before racing for the bags and getting tripped by Natasha.

Whipping your head up to watch her snatch a bag you growl half angrily, “You bitch.” While she happily smiles back down at you, taco in hand.

“What are you doing on the floor? Foods here.” She jokes as you quickly walk over to the counter with all the bags.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious now give me that.”

After about ten minutes of eating and shooting the breeze with Natasha, Wanda, Vision, and Tony; you’re ears immediately catch the sounds of thundered running down the hallway and other muffled curses from two familiar individuals.

“Fun’s arrived.” Whispers Natasha with a friendly nudge to your arm as it lays on the flat surface of the table while you absentmindedly crumple up a wrapper.

Biting your lip you anticipate the impending commotion, “Fantastic.” And this whole evening could be more enjoyable if your hundred year old boyfriend would have used some common sense.

A second later the door swings open to reveal a panting Sam before Bucky slides in after him, equally as flustered, those two idiots. As they stand there collecting their breaths, Steve casually steps into the room, walking past them and over to the bags of tacos, “Aw sweet, taco night.” He confirms excitedly, hungrily eyeing up a particular bag.

Rolling your eyes, you slouch carelessly into your expensive swivel chair before turning to Wanda who’s seated across from you, “Hey, Red Riding Hood, you’re up.” She turns her attention away from Vision and nods before giving you a sly smirk and using her power to send a balled up piece of taco wrapping straight for your head.

In one calculably swift motion do you incinerate the paper material before its able to reach your face, “Y/N you’re going to set the fire detectors off.” Laughs Tony as he crumbles up a new ball.

“Eh, we could afford a renovation.”

Tony fake scoffs, “Rude.”

“Well Y/N, I thought you did great.” Applauds Wanda with a chuckle as the three other men walk around to the far end where no one is seated, “Alright Tony you next.”

You refrain from making any eye contact with Bucky who steals a few longing glances at your smiling face, instead he follows Sam and Steve to the opposite end and watches as you quickly turn another balled up paper to ash. The sounds of your laughter and the rest of the tables almost enough to drive him insane.

Yet he refrains, Bucky knows he’s essentially in time out, reason for almost getting himself killed today; and you’re not breaking anytime soon, or so he thinks.

Ignoring the three boys hungrily attacking their poor tacos away from the main groups theatrics, Vision suddenly gains your attention, “Well I suppose I should participate with this game or fear feeling left out....uh, what is the objective? Or perhaps the name?”

“They throw wrappers at me and I set them on fire before it hits myself or the ground.” You reply while crumbling up another piece, leaving Vision to process the possible deeper meaning to your brief explanation, though there really isn’t one. It’s just for fun.

“By the way I’ve been able to get her exactly once.” Brags Tony with a shit eating grin, causing you to scoff at that memory.

“Oh fuck all the way off you flicked water into my face and then threw the paper.”

“And it was very much worth it.” He confirms as you roll your eyes at his cheating from last taco night.

The rest of your friends fill the room with snickers and some louder laughter coming from Sam down at the far end, with a raised brow you snap your head in that direction and stand, “Something funny bird boy?” You quip in a half threatening manner.

Sam’s smirk immediately drops from his face as his expression appears nonchalant, “What nooo. That was Steve.” He mutters before taking another bite out of his taco.

“Y/N that was definitely not me.”

“Uh huh.”

“Maybe it was Bucky.” Jokes Sam as you shift your fiery attention over to a fearful Bucky who quickly shakes his head before smacking Sam on the arm.

“No.” You confirm with a knowing smirk, “He doesn’t have a death wish.”

“Well neither do I please have mercy.” Pleads Sam with hands raised in defeat, “I would like to finish my taco.”

You stare down at them for a brief tension filled moment before casually shrugging, “Yeah alright.” Before sitting back down again.

——

Opening up the trash can you quickly shove down three giant paper bags from dinner with a bit of effort considering how full it is. Natasha and Vision are cleaning up in various areas nearby while Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Steve, and Tony sit in the lounging area discussing if it was necessary that Dobby was killed off in the Deathly Hallows. You know, normal things you discuss with your superpowered friends.

Well Bucky is mostly just listening and stealing glances over to you every couple of minutes, really wishing you would just walk over to him and let him show you how sorry he was with the biggest hug he could possibly muster. Probably never letting you go again, though you wouldn’t mind.

Ignoring your own longing to be cuddled up next to Bucky, you instead fight with the damn trash can to fucking shut its dumb lid already. With one hand forcefully shoving down bags, paper plates, and banana peels you start to think if volunteering for clean up was even worth it.

A blue flame suddenly erupts from your palm and makes a big black hole through the paper bags and plates, your eyes go wide in surprise as you immediately retract your hand from the trash and shut the lid just as quickly.

Taking a single step back you let out a breath before turning your head to find Bucky watching your whole ordeal go down with a drink in hand, guess he must have gotten up to get some juice and stayed for your one on one brawl with the trash can. Rolling your eyes, you wave it off, “Completely under control.” You mutter as he slowly nods.

Well this is awkward.

Shifting your gaze from Bucky to your friends and back to Bucky again, he finally speaks, “Is that why the lid has smoke coming from under it?”

“What?” You wonder in puzzlement before looking back down at the trash can to find smoke indeed rising, “Oh fuck!” Ripping the lid off you’re kindly greeted with a burst of flame and smoke. Well, shit.

“Uh, Y/N?” Asks Bucky with an uncertain chuckle, “You’re positive everything is under control?” Quips your smartass boyfriend.

With more flames rising to an almost alarming level, though not quit yet, you glance at your oblivious friends before racing for the sink, “Yes! Everything is fucking fine!” Wanda skips to the side as you snatch a cup of something from the counter by the sink.

Running back you skid in your tracks and dump the clear liquid onto the flames which causes them to rise even higher and gain the attentions of everyone sitting down and relaxing, “Why is my trash can on fire?” Asks Tony as casually as ever.

“I don’t know maybe it looks better this way?!” You sass before giving the glass a double take, “The hell? What the fuck was in this!” You shout, holding up the glass while fire burns in the trash from behind you.

“Oh that had some Quinjet fuel in it, why do you ask?” Replies Tony, he’s gotta be fucking with you.

Squinting at him in bewilderment, you shake the empty glass in frustration, “Why the fuck would there be a random glass of fuel sitting in a clear unlabeled glass on the fucking sink of all places!”

“What did you think it was?”

“Oh I don’t know!? Water?!” You snap causing the fire to roar even higher at your outburst.

Looking almost like a demon princess standing there with flames rising from behind you, your fists ball up with blue flame, something that you don’t even realize is happening as you give Tony a (what the fuck are you actually stupid) face.

Sensing your obvious irritation and rising anger, Bucky comes to the rescue with a whole bowl full of actual water and promptly dumbs it onto the flames which causes the unless materials to sizzle and whine. Soon the oranges and reds are gone, leaving the contents turned to ash and nothing more then wet soot.

Distinguishing your own flames, you hang your head low, revealing a tired heavy sigh as you mumble, “Shit.” Suddenly you feel admittedly quit drained and annoyed from the events of the day, even if they weren’t all bad.

Your friends keep silent for a moment before Steve quickly stands, “Movie night anyone?” Gaining the attention of everyone in an instant; you bless the blonde for his intuitive ways of helping you out in the smallest of moments. He truly is a great friend.

“Yeah I could watch something.” Adds Sam with a shrug, “I’m thinking Deathly Hallows Part 2.”

“Yeah it’s pretty good I’ll join.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah I’m in.”

Everyone get up and begins walking for the door as you stay standing in your spot near the wet and ash covered metal trash can, everyone exiting for the home theater except for Bucky who’s back is to you while he tells Sam you’ll be there in a minute.

Folding your arms, you suddenly feel like it’s the first time you and Bucky have ever talked one on one with each other, you’re typically a pretty damn confident and fiery person to begin with, it’s just. Being mad at your favorite human in the whole entire world and then embarrassing yourself with accidentally setting the trash can on fire can take its toll.

Also not to mention the mission many hours ago was admittedly hectic and stress inducing and then, Bucky....perhaps a moment to calm down would have been smart if taken earlier. God your life moves to damn fast.

“You are so intense sometimes.”

Breaking out of your self reflective trance, your eyes quickly dart up to see Bucky who’s giving you a soft smile, “If you wanted my attention you could have just asked.”

“Very funny.” You scoff, “I was actually too busy being mad at you.”

“Ah, right.” Nods Bucky as he mirrors your defensive positioning, deciding to cross his arms and make a pouty face like yourself, “So I guess we’ll just stay here and brood then?”

“I’m trying to make a point.” You mutter, you’re not gonna crack, you’re not gonna do it.

“I’m trying to get my girlfriend to watch a movie with me.” Admits Bucky with an affectionate head tilt as you frown, “I know they’re not going to wait for us so....uh....okay let me start over.....I’m sorry for being reckless and almost dying. And I mean it too, with all of my heart. I love you Y/N.”

Although you’d like to throw his dumb reckless ass some sass and strut away leaving him guessing and begging for more, you just can’t find it in you at this point. He looks at you with those big beautiful blue eyes full of love and adoration for you and only you, how could you possibly resist them?

You know with every ounce of your soul that he means every single word, and you also know that he’s missed you since the second you yelled at him and slammed the facility door, leaving him alone and regretting his past decisions that could have potentially ended him then and there.

“Sometimes James, sometimes.” You mutter, shaking your head in disapproval before a small smirk pulls at your lips and in that moment he knows you’re his, “Come here.”

Heeding to your wonderful command that he’s been waiting to hear all day, he swiftly makes the short distance to gather your smaller body into a giant Bucky bear hug, his strong arms wrap protectively around your back as his head falls into the side of your neck as he quickly steals a small kiss.

You pull him in even tighter and fully enjoy the sensation of himself flush against you, metal arm squeezing your rip cage and long dark hair that falls into your eyes; god you love him so much.

Giving you one last little squeeze of affection, Bucky slowly pulls away and presses his head against yours, “I gotta be honest, I have no idea what this movie is about.” Reveals Bucky as he continues to holds you close.

Chuckling you press a kiss to his lips, “I’ll tell you what’s happening. Let’s go before we miss anything else.”

Nodding, he tilts your head up to press a sweet kiss to your lips one last time before letting you go, so that the two of you can begin walking for the door. Opening up the metal and glass door for you like the gentleman that he is, Bucky quickly jogs over to your side.

“So Sam told me these guys are wizards or something? Like they can teleport and fly I think?” States Bucky in question while walking in step with you.

Looking over at him you smile at how cute he’s being right now, giving him an agreeable nod, “Yeah they can do cool stuff like change form and set things on fire.”

Bucky suddenly starts laughing much to your confusion, “Y/N does that make you a wizard?”

Shoving him to the side you snort as he keeps laughing, “Shut up.” You mutter humorously as he stumbles from your friendly push.

Making quick steps to catch up with you, Bucky pulls you into his side, “Forgive me I didn’t mean it...” Snickers your adorable idiot, “I bet you’d be the best wizard, pointy hat and all.”

Shaking your head you can’t help the smirk that tugs against your better wishes, “I’m gonna set you on fire.” You jokingly threaten him with as he affectionately squeezes your side, causing you to be pressed even closer against him.

“Wizard.” Muses Bucky as he plants a kiss to your cheek as you try and push him away.

“Bucky, shut the fuck up.”

“But, I love you.”

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x you #fanfic

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emiefaunwrites · 3 years

Note

Hi again haha! I was re reading your Scary Movie headcanon where Leon is absolutely terrified of the movie The Descent and it got me thinking. Since horror movies don’t necessarily scare Taka, would a movie with a more realistic premise scare him? Something like 127 Hours? (If you don’t know, it’s a movie based on a true story about a man getting his arm stuck in the Grand Canyon and is stuck there for at least 5 days until he finally resorts to breaking his arm then cutting it off to get himself free, very graphic btw). It definitely disturbed me and kept me up for a good while. So, maybe Taka would be disturbed by it since there is a possibility it could happen?

Heyyyy!!

I haven't actually watched that film! But I've heard of it. And yes. Yes, THAT would scare Taka for sure. I think he'll have some little irrational fears too, but films that deal with actual things that could happen would so spook him.

Since I haven't seen that film, I decided to go with another film that I've seen called Buried (man buried alive). So trigger warnings for claustrophobia and panic attacks below the stars, also spoilers for the film if you haven't seen it.

Thank you so much once again for your asks! I hope this is what you were after!

***********************

• Taka doesn't get scared by films.

• He has fears (like the dentist and other little irrational fears) but when it comes to ghosts, zombies, monsters and the like he's fine.

• He is guaranteed the one to be holding Leon during films, mentally going over all the thing that are wrong with the concelt while rubbing his frightened boyfriend's back in comfort.

• Until the day that Taka becomes frightened.

• He enjoys thrillers - kidnapping or police crime always seem a little more realistic and make for much better watching.

• So he has no issue when Leon suggests they watch the film Buried.

• As always, they settle down under the blankets - Leon resting up against Taka and the film begins.

• Now Leon is pretty good with realistic issues. There's no monsters or anything so finds himself relaxing into it.

• Taka, on the other hand, is slowly starting to panic.

• It isn't that he's claustrophobic - small spaces don't bother him.

• But being buried alive, with a lack of oxygen and no one to save you?

• That does bother him.

• The longer the film goes on, his chest starts to tighten and his head starts to swim.

• And the only way he gets through it is to tell himself that the guy will make it out alive.

• The police finally say they've found where he's been buried and they're digging him up...and Leon feels Taka's grip on his waist tighten before he's pulled flush against him.

• Glancing over, actually quite bored of the film, he sees something he's never seen before.

• Taka clutching his throat, eyes wide and chest heaving.

• He's scared...

• Leon's about to ask if he's okay...and then comes the bad news.

• It's not the right grave. The character won't be rescued.

• Oh shit.

• Taka starts freaking out, air wheezing in and out of his lungs as he suddenly spirals out of control - the walls suddenly seeming to tight and the air too thick and oh god he can't breathe...

• Leon has to physically drag him outside to breathe cold air, holding his hands as he guides him through the attack.

• 'You're okay, baby. You're doing so well. Just keep breathing. It'll be over soon.'

• It takes a good while until Taka starts breathing normally again and he's confused as to why he's in the garden.

• But the thought of going inside, back into their small living room, makes him shudder so they stay outside for a while - just until Taka's tired enough to sleep.

• But the door stays wide open tonight. And Leon is held tighter than normal.

• So yeah...maybe Taka's slightly claustrophobic, Leon thinks to himself.

• Probably best cancel the escape room he's booked as a surprise next month...

#kiyotaka ishimaru #leon kuwata #ishileon #ask request #tw: claustrophobia #tw: panic attack #yaysof11037

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nano--raptor · 4 years

Text

Getting to Know Him

- source -

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky x female reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Blood mention, language, making out, fluff

A/N: Written for the @the-ss-horniest-book-club ongoing drunk drabbles! Based on the prompt below from the lovely @littledarlinhavefaithinme, I hope I did this justice my dear! This was a ton of fun to write, and it probably won’t be the last of vampire!bucky for me

“Ah, fuck,” you cursed to your reflection in the bathroom mirror, holding your nose. Another nosebleed! It had been quite a while since your last one, and you’d thought you’d outgrown them.

Apparently not.

Whether it was from allergies, diet, stress, you weren’t sure, but you knew it was really annoying. And embarrassing! You and Bucky had been dating for a few months, and thankfully this hadn’t happened around him yet. Not that there was anything wrong with nosebleeds, but you were always afraid they were going to happen at dinner, or drip on your shirt or drip on his shirt. The thought of bleeding on his shirt was horrifying.

You’d been hanging out at his place, watching a movie, and thought you felt it coming on so you excused yourself and headed to the bathroom. You tried to slow your breathing and held your head up, pinching your nose, trying to get it to stop. Suddenly there was a knock at the door that made you jump. It sounded a little more panicked than was necessary.

“Y-yes?”

“Hey doll, you alright?” Bucky’s voice was laced with concern.

“Uh, yeah. Yep, doing okay.” Oh god, you tried not to panic. This was all you needed, for him to see you like this.

“Are you sure? I mean, uh. Do you… need anything? Can I help?” He’d started jiggling the door knob now and you were pretty sure it was already too late to try and hide what was happening so you decided to let him in. As you took a step towards the door however, it opened and Bucky burst into the room. He looked just as surprised as you felt, but he stood there staring at you, looking flushed.

“Uh, sorry.”

You tried not to panic, but could feel your nose keep going and you pinched it harder.

“It’s ok, I just. Got a damn nosebleed…” your voice trailed off and you turned away, trying to hide it. A moment passed and he hadn’t said anything, so you stole a glance over your shoulder. Bucky was still staring at you, almost fixated. “What?” you joked. “Never had a nosebleed before?” Bucky cleared his throat nervously.

“No… Um. Do you get them often?” You shrugged.

“No. Well, I used to, but this hasn’t happened in a while. I’m so…” you sighed. “I can’t believe this happened today. I’m so sorry.” He stepped closer to you and you felt him brush your arm.

“It’s ok, honest. Don’t even worry about it.” He started rubbing your arm now, which felt nice, and was comforting, if you were to be honest with yourself. You felt warmth from his touch, more so from your excitement about it than from his touch itself. You hadn’t been too physical yet in your relationship, but you were really aching to get closer to him. He was cute as hell. This nosebleed was throwing a wrench into your plans for sure. You turned to thank him, finally feeling like it was subsiding for now.

“Thanks, Bucky, I-” your words caught in your throat when you turned to face him, the concern was gone from his face, and instead he stared at you with a hunger in his eyes. Or at least, that’s what it seemed like, his eyes had darkened nearly to black and his mouth was parted slightly. His gaze made you nervous and turned you on at the same time.

“What’s going on?” You took a step backward and he followed you, keeping his hand on your arm and his eyes locked on yours. You’d never seen this side of him before, but the way he was looking at you with hooded eyes was hotter than ever.

“I’m so sorry,” he began, his voice suddenly low and smooth like velvet. “But you smell fucking delicious.” You felt your face flush and a tingle run through your body. What?? You felt your nose start to trickle again, but you were too confused and distracted to pinch it, nearly entranced by Bucky’s stare. Your brain was screaming at you as you felt a drop run down towards your lip.

To your horror, and mortal embarrassment, Bucky reached up and brushed the drop away with his thumb. Your heart stopped and time seemed to freeze. He held your gaze as he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked the blood off. His tongue swirled around his thumb slowly, he was enjoying it, savoring it, and it was almost too fucking much.

“Bucky,” you breathed. The corner of his lip turned up in a smirk.

“Sorry doll,” he said, stepping forward, and cupping your face with his hands. It was the most intense kiss you’d shared thus far. Hot and hungry, passionate and desperate, he kissed you with intention and you melted into it. You reached your hands around his neck, into his hair, and held on for dear life. His tongue licked into your mouth and you welcomed it, tasting you, licking your lips before finally pulling away. You gasped in a breath of air.

Bucky’s eyes were almost totally black by now, and he licked his lip, rolling it between his teeth and letting it out with a pop. He grinned, enjoying the taste of you, of your blood, on his tongue. It made your heart pound and heat rush to your core.

An absurd though entered your mind, and a chill ran through you at the thought. Could he be… Your heart raced, you already knew what the answer was. Your head was swimming.

“Bucky,” you repeated, grasping his hand that was still cupping your face. “Are you…” Your voice trailed off again and he simply nodded, leaning down to kiss you again. This time your tongue explored his mouth and you felt them, the sharp points of his teeth. You blood ran cold, and hot at the same time, as he pulled your body tight against his.

Bucky turned and pushed you gently up against the wall, you were both panting now, kisses hot and heated. He started trailing his mouth away from your lips, down your throat, nipping and licking along the way. You gasped. He wasn’t actually biting you but you knew he wanted to and it was thrilling. A moan escaped your throat, your body prickled with fear and arousal, and you almost didn’t know which way was up. Bucky moaned as well, a rumble from deep in this throat, and he trailed back up to your mouth, kissing you hungrily.

He pulled back now, pulling you into his lap as he sat on the edge of the bathtub. Right, you were still in the bathroom. You weren’t even sure if your nosebleed had stopped or not. Your heart was pounding, blood rushing in your ears, your body felt hot and tingly all over. Your thighs clenched around his waist and you scooted closer, pressing your torsos together, draping your arms around his neck. Bucky’s hands wandered up your sides and back, holding you close.

He was perfectly calm, relaxed, but he searched your eyes as he asked: “Are you scared?” You shook your head, no. You weren’t. But you were curious. “You came in here before like you knew… how?”

“I could smell it,” he admitted softly, brushing some hair from your face. “But don’t worry, I won’t ever… not unless-”

“I ask,” you finished. Bucky nodded, holding your gaze. You felt like you were on a deeper level with him, now knowing the truth. You smiled, honestly not feeling a shred of fear at all. He grinned back at you, exposing his fangs, and your stomach flipped. A thrill ran through your body and you leaned in, needing another taste of him; your vampire boyfriend.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #vampire!bucky #vampire!bucky x reader #drabbles #fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #hbc drabbles #hbc drunk drabbles #bucky barnes au #my writing

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blushing-starker · 4 years

Text

Having a boyfriend that's a natural rule breaker becomes even more tedious because now it's two people conspiring together, itching to shatter social norms. Sure, they won't pull the fire alarm stunt to get out of a quiz (that's more Rocket and Groot's style), place mirrors on front steps to confuse Fury and nearly give the principal a heart attack (Loki with an exasperated Thor and cackling Hela) or hire a mariachi band to follow hall monitor Alexander Pierce (Steve had joined Bucky and Sam in that one); they'd never sneak into the air vents, fill them with glitter so the haughty board of directors would be covered in pink sparkles when they cranked the ac (Clint and Nat).

Ok, they did help with that last one, buying the shimmering stuff from T'Challa's sister and slipping five jars into Clint's backpack, but they didn't actually go into the vents.

But that's not the point. The point is there are limits to their rule breaking; Tony's spot on the football team and Peter's participation in the art club too important to risk on something as silly as skipping a quiz. No, they thanked their best friends, unhooked the window lock and slithered out only after finishing and handing in the quiz. They weren't amateurs.

Still, Peter knows Tony literally couldn't have chosen a worse time for their impromptu lunch date. (Luckily, he'd expected this exact situation.)

"Tony, they don't even have bad food today. We could just wait until the bell rang to meet up and eat at the bleachers. Like we always do a day before a big game."

His boyfriend swivels around, hooks nimble fingers into his belt loops to pull Peter closer, never once stumbling even while walking backwards. The grin he shows is manic, just this side of wild to let Peter know this isn't about haunting nightmares and bouts of anxiety. This is normal, too high on a feeling Tony Stark. Which means he won't head back to school unless Peter pulls out all the stops...

He's too exhausted from last night's art project to use up energy on the puppy eyes. So he sighs, tugs on the blue varsity jacket Tony loves to show off, kisses a dimple before turning this untamed creature around.

"Come on, I found a new route to that shawarma place with MJ and Ned last week." It sounds exasperated, but Tony knows Peter will do anything to keep him happy. Well. Not anything. There's only so many times they can discuss Star Wars before simply agreeing to disagree on whether Han and Luke are pan or bi.

"What, and you tell me this now?", Tony squawks indignantly from Peter's left side, freezing nose nuzzling into Peter's neck as revenge.

Like a robber caught sneaking into a vault, he raises his hands instantly before shoving Tony away.

"Hey, you were focusing on practice! If I told you, you'd bring Rhodey, he'd bring T'Challa and then Shuri would pop up and who goes where she goes? Bucky, which means Steve and Sam, who'd already be there thanks to Rhodey and of course Clint would somehow appear with Nat. We'd be together so Ned and MJ are gonna be teasing with Betty and half the guys in our grade have a crush on Nat, or MJ or Shuri or Betty or you. So what's the end result? The entire football, soccer, basketball and swim team eating shawarma a week before the games. I am not hearing Coach Coulson scold me for you guys breaking diet again. I'm already on his list, another situation like that and I'll have to run fifteen laps around the field."

"Oh come on, you can do those in your sleep." He could, but again, not the point.

"With a weighted backpack, Tony."

"Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't want that."

"Before cycling fifteen laps and then swimming fifteen laps."

"Jesus, why would he even do that?" Tony looks at him then, disgruntled at the thought of his boyfriend doing all that.

He shrugs, doesn't want to explain Peter had done it once when it all got too much and he'd needed to release the pent up energy. He hadn't noticed Coach watching him, ready to come help if he hurt himself. They'd talk afterwards, Coulson making him promise to never do that alone. Now it became a reward and a punishment. Peter won the art contest? Fifteen everything to focus his mind and not go jumping off walls in his excitement.

His students wolfing down a thousand calories before a game? Fifteen everything so Peter would at least "time it so it's not during the season, Jesus". To be fair to Peter, Tony participated in almost all the sports teams so scheduling was hard.

"Listen, just don't eat a whole animal, ok? We can split it, eat enough," he glares at Tony, pushing through even as the puppy eyes come out, "and then head to the movies. They're showing Aliens for a few days cuz of Halloween and I already texted the guys to come during lunch."

His boyfriend, smart and sharp and witty, just blinks at him. "But we have class after lunch."

"Technically, but I convinced Mr Pym to let the class out of lab so we could all hang out. It's the one class we share so now the whole group can see it together."

Tony stops, eyes wide and mouth open.

"You, what, planned this?"

"Yeah, something fun before tomorrow to take it off your mind for a while. Or, you know, not make it stand out as much. I know how focused you get, and it's really great, having that as a goal, strategizing and taking it seriously. But I also know it can be a lot, so I thought we should all hang out since each of us has something coming up and we aren't spending much time together. Which I get, responsibilities and family and school; I just missed it and I can't be the only one, right? So yeah, this was planned. Like, two weeks ago. When MJ found the new route, it was like a sign. And I really want you to relax and enjoy the whole, I have friends that care for me and a boyfriend that loves-"

He slaps a hand on his mouth, eyes impossibly wide and cheeks flaming. Tony and Peter stand immobile, the world reduced to beat up sneakers breaking the simplicity of yellow lines on black, a flickering neon sign telling them the shawarma place is open and two hearts slowly starting to beat again after that confession.

Ned would say it's romantic. MJ would bluntly remind them it's a bad idea to stand in the middle of the road even if they're saying I love you. And with good reason, since there's the telltale roar of a car bursting with teenagers, voices howling out the lyrics to an AC/DC song. And of course Peter notices the noise of rubber swerving against gravel, the screeching of old brakes and a few terrified shrieks harmonizing with a sharp wind blasting into him out of nowhere. Before he can react, Tony is there, wrapping his arms around Peter and shoving them both into the little patch of grass that grows from a crack in dirty pavement.

There's a moment where his whole world flips, tumbles until he screws his eyes shut and prepare himself for whatever the fuck caused that noise. But nothing comes. Only a sigh blowing a stray curl away from his forehead. But a sigh? Why would?

Tony.

He gasps, jolts upright and apologizes when that just serves to jostle his boyfriend further into the ground. His boyfriend who'd flip them so Peter wouldn't be hurt. Tony is peering at him through half shut eyes, discomfort clear on the grimace he tried to transform into a sheepish grin.

"So, you love me, huh?"

It's the stupidest thing Tony Stark has ever said.

"What the fuck were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt, you could have shattered a wrist, dislocated a shoulder, torn an ACL, bent a leg-"

"This is not what I expected. Also it was a three foot leap forward on grass, I'm fine, Peter."

"Or bashed your head, or busted an arm and then what would you do for the game tomorrow? Who the hell does that?"

"The guy you love, apparently."

"That's not the point, Tony, that's unimportant because you nearly got hurt. Christ, Coulson will slaughter me if there's a scratch on you, and then your mom would be sad and I'd be sad because, what would I do without you? And don't you ever do that again, I can't take it. I am not losing you, Tony. God, why would you do that, risk so much on-"

"On you? Babe, I'd do it again. Ok, not the right thing to say based on the whole face thing you got going on right now. But just hear me out. Don't, stop hitting me, ow, why are you hitting, how are you this strong, Jesus. Ow, stop it. Peter, for fuck's sakes, I love you, you animal. Now please let go of the jacket, it'll get wrinkles."

His hands unclasp the soft cotton, Tony falling back with a groan and Peter's unhinged jaw snapping shut after fifteen seconds of letting the flies in.

It's a wonderful thing, hearing the guy he's loved for so long say it back, say he loves Peter.

It's also fucking stupid since there's even more reason to not do stunts like that.

"You're an idiot. I'm in love with a guy that has one shared brain cell with Steve. You could have been hurt, Tony. And what would that have done, huh?"

His boyfriend sighs yet again, wraps an arm around Peter to push them from the ground and heads to the car where their friends are gawking. He waves them off, offers a "Yeah, I know I'm amazing, no, I didn't break anything, T'challa, yes, I can play, Jesus, Rogers, I can read you like a book. I appreciate the worry, Bruce; Nat, thanks for calming him down. Rhodes, excellent driving. No need to hog the seats, Sam, we need to settle in. Peter, you can keep cursing me out if you, yeah, see how it's nice being fun size when you fit in my lap in a car full of people. What, I'm not walking after that, I don't care if it's til we reach the parking. Let's go, Rhodes. Pepper, I'm fine. "

Clint offers a high five. Tony responds and that's that. Out of sight, Ned gives him a fist bump and MJ keeps on reading her book. It could just be his imagination, but Tony's sure she's smiling, approval clear on her face. He preens, glad to have her blessing, and settles his head on Peter's fluffy hair.

-----

When they're all laughing in a booth, smashed together and picking food off of everyone's plate, Peter nuzzles the crook of his neck, holds his hand and squeezes it. Tony smiles, lights up and shoves at Sam's face when the trio of best friends tease him for puffing his chest out when his boyfriend ever so softly says, "I love you."

"I love you, too." The table whoops and calls for another round of food and Coca-Cola, their family grinning at them and fondly teasing the new couple. Tony grins back, high on this feeling of warmth and happiness and safety and love.

And then Peter presses ice cold lips onto his neck and he lets out a shout, pain coursing through him when a knee slams into the table. His eyes water and through the haze of agony he sees their friends exchanging cash, some grumbling and others smirking. Rhodey and MJ, he notes, are the ones that win the most. They high five before pocketing the cash and ordering dessert.

Peter kisses his cheek, smile innocent and eyes wicked. It's his own fault Tony snatches an ice cube and slips it below his Nirvana shirt. He only has five seconds to lord his victory over Peter before there's ice cream being smeared on his cheek. They battle then, accidentally sending food into Wanda's lap, Clint's hair and Bucky's face.

In less than a minute they are all covered in shawarma and participating in the fight. Peter shrieks when Tony pulls him into his lap, gets chicken on the varsity jacket and tries to wriggle away. But Tony kisses him, tastes ice cream and joy, thanks whoever decided to give him a break and find this incredible person dozing on the roof of the school with Ned and MJ one spring afternoon. Peter kisses back and, at the same time, they say, confidently, honestly,

"I love you."

This is dedicated to @drarryismyshit07

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found (Eight)

Slight TW for mentions of 40′s era h*mophobia and Tony’s thanks-to-Howard internalized h*mophobia but it’s over quick.

MASTERLIST HERE

*************

“I think there’s an issue with connectivity.” Tony chewed on the end of a pen as he watched James go through a series of repetitive motions with the prosthetic arm. “Which makes no sense at all, because obviously I did everything correct. Are you sure you’re doing that right?”

“Touchin’ the tips of my fingers together?” James raised his eyebrows and tried to touch the ring finger of the metal limb together with the thumb, gritting his teeth in frustration when the joints hitched and froze. “Yeah Tony, pretty sure I remember how to move my hand.”

“Okay fine, maybe I screwed up somewhere.” Tony huffed out a breath, blowing messy hair off his forehead. “Hold your breath, this will probably feel weird.”

The twist and pop of the arm disconnecting certainly did feel weird, the tug and strain at the plates in James’s chest when his shoulder weighed heavy for just a moment and then lightened in the next alien and uncomfortable. He flinched more from the awkward noise than from any actual pain though, grimaced away from a flash of nightmare that felt like being strapped down and hurt, and when Tony paused to ask, “Alright?” he simply nodded.

Sure. He was fine.

“This will only take a few minutes, hang tight.” Tony carried the arm back to another table and James reached up to feel gingerly along his shoulder, tracing the scars from the hard stump over to his collarbone.

Seeing himself reflected in the large mirror tilted above the chair was… well it was worse than James thought it would be. Tony had suggested that seeing what was happening might make the process a little easier but all James could see was damage, ruined skin and twisted muscles and a deathly pale pallor the sun never seemed to touch.

It was awful. He was awful and the situation was made all the worse for the way Tony was distant today, this morning, last night and every night since James had blundered into the not-kiss at the Expo.

The surprisingly easy laughter from just last week was gone, the quick smiles and nearly shared thoughts non existent. Tony wasn’t being cold, but he was stiff. He wasn’t avoiding spending time together, but movie nights happened with either man sat on the opposite side of the couch now, and attaching the new prosthetic arm was the closest Tony had been to James in days.

Everything was awful and James didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t know if Tony wanted to try and fix it, or if there was even something to try and fix--

--James was right back to not knowing anything at all except his name.

My name is James and he wanted to know so much more than that.

Awful.

“You asked if I watch the news.” he tried to break the silence when he just couldn’t take it anymore. “The other day, I mean. A few days ago. Before the Expo. You asked if I ever saw you on the news?”

“Yeah.” Tony looked up only briefly and went back to fine tuning the input of the arm.

“Sometimes the uh-- the counselor that came to the shelter would sit and watch with me.” James cleared his throat, discouraged by the lack of response. “I couldn’t ever watch the news, it about killed me to see some of that stuff but Sam said most of our memories are locked into references and not-- not concrete ideas. So maybe TV would help bring some of them around.”

“Sam Wilson.” Tony stated. “Pep’s mentioned him a few times, says he does good work. Did watching TV help with your memories.”

“No.” James dug his fingers into his thigh to combat the flush of failure at the back of his neck. “No it never did. Only confused me. Would watch game shows or documentaries and it wouldn’t be right. The name of countries, you know? I would see a map or something and think I knew it, then my answer would be wrong.”

Tony cocked his head, the first real sign of interest he’d shown all day. “Huh. Can you give me an example?”

“Well there’s--” James hesitated, searching his memory for one that had stood out with Sam. “--There’s a whole lotta places where the Soviet Union used to be. Names I don’t know and cities that used to be called something else.”

“Soviet Union.” Tony readjusted one more thing on the arm, then turned to face James fully. “What did Sam say about that? Anything?”

“He told me it could be something as easy as me havin’ watched a history movie or reading a book before my accident and those are the names that stuck with me afterwards.” James’s heart picked up when Tony smiled a little. Was it possible to miss a smile after a few days? “That never sounded right to me, though.”

“The Soviet Union collapsed in December of 1991.” Tony folded his arms and leaned back against the table. “I remember that entire month vividly. If you know for certain you remember it being the U.S.S.R, then you were at least high school age studying geography before it fell. Interesting.”

James wasn’t following Tony’s thought process at all but he was so happy the beautiful genius was talking to him again, he didn’t even care. “Why is that interesting?”

“Based on that fact alone, I’d suggest you were pushing thirty which means we could narrow down search parameters and maybe get a better lead on who you are.” Tony explained, his smile growing just a little bit more. “There’s other ways to figure it out too, but nothing easy or very concrete.”

James made a ‘go on’ motion and Tony scratched through his goatee as he thought it out.

“Well, I could run some tests if you’d like, but seeing as how we’re only barely managing getting the arm on in a La-Z-boy recliner cos the other chair upset you, I bet you don’t want me poking and prodding with needles and electrodes. Totally fine by the way.” he waved off James’s objection. “I don’t like it either. It’s fine. No tests, we don’t need to do that.”

“The easiest way to find you in the system is fingerprints.” he continued. “But I ran your fingerprints the first time you came through the lab as a precaution-- don’t look like that, I do it to everyone-- and yours aren’t in the system, or at least not anything recognizable. Not a big deal, fingerprinting tech is still fairly new, it wasn’t an electronic database till the 1980’s and AFIS wasn’t halfway usable till about 2000. There’s a thousand reasons why you wouldn’t be in there, even with your military service.”

“Fingerprints.” James looked down at his hand curiously. “What else?”

“We could always do DNA testing, but I wouldn’t do it without your permission. I know some people that track you down quick but DNA testing always seems a little… invasive.” Tony tapped at the reactor casing a few times. “I’m not a fan of anything invasive. And you know, finding results would hinge solely on the idea that your DNA is already registered somewhere and if your fingerprints don’t come up…”

He let the sentence trail and shrugged. “If you really want a definitive answer of who you are beyond a guess at your age based on when the Soviet fell, I’m happy to try. There isn’t a whole lot I can’t find out once I start getting nosy, but I figured if you wanted to know, you’d ask.”

Tony waited a beat, “Do you want to know?”

No.

I don’t know.

What sort of man dreams the things I do?

“I’m okay with just James for now.” is what James said instead of everything else burning on his tongue. “Maybe the memories will come back on their own.”

Tony nodded absentmindedly and turned back to the prosthesis, so James took his slightly raw feelings and tried to distract himself by picking up a nearby photo book. All the what-if’s of who he had been were colliding with all the what if’s from the Expo and circling round in his mind, round and round until he actually felt a little nauseous, so he cleared his throat and forced the thoughts away and flipped idly through the photos.

The pictures were at least twenty years old, snap shot after snap shot of a young Tony draped all over a younger James Rhodes, laughing hysterically at a joke between them, clearly wearing each other’s clothes and other costume pieces, a picture of Tony dead asleep on thick text books while Rhodey drew various genitalia on his face in marker.

Some of the photos were dated and placed at MIT, others were at what looked like the Colonel’s home, his family scattered in the background of their antics. Only one was a formal picture, Tony and Rhodey in fit suits standing solemn at the top of the stairs but in the very next frame the boys were wrestling and pulling at each others hair and then in a third picture mid-tumble down the stairs while a woman who looked remarkably like Tony threw her hands up in clear exasperation.

It was years of friendship, years of happiness and pranks and love and James found himself smiling as young Tony’s hair got higher and fluffier style changes, the clothes got more and more ridiculous, even the cap and gown graduation picture complete with fake mustaches and crossed eyes for the portrait.

There were pictures of vacation-- Tony in hilariously printed swim trunks, a floaty around his waist and over sized goggles on his face, Tony tripping over the flippers and face planting into the pool, Tony looking slightly drowned rat-ish as he struggled back onto dry land--

“Wow.” James didn’t mean to say anything out loud but the next picture of Colonel Rhodes didn’t match the silly theme of the book at all. It was an artistic shot, all pretty angles and purposeful shadows, a whole lot of skin and muscles on display and while it wasn’t obvious if Rhodey was actually sleeping or just posing, it was clearly obvious that whoever took the picture had had only one thought in mind.

Sexy.

“Didn’t realize the Colonel was so good lookin’.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud either and after the Expo, James should have made a better effort to not blurt things out in front of Tony, but it was too late now, the words were out there and Tony was staring at him in surprise.

“What’d you say?”

“The-- the Colonel.” James put the book down and swallowed, looking away from it and from Tony. “He’s damn good looking. You and he ah-- you’re real close?”

“Rhodey is my best friend, and yes he’s a total hottie.” Tony carried the re-adjusted arm back to James and set it aside to pick up the book too, flipping through the pictures and chuckling when he got to the shirtless one. “Oh man, he hates this picture. I tried for days to convince him to submit a photo to some ‘hotties of spring break’ calendar and he refused, so I got him blasted on tequila and then took the shot while he was passed out snoring.”

“That--” James hesitated. “That seems creepy, Tony.”

“Yeah, in retrospect, one of the creepiest things ever but eh, what’s a little creep-on between besties?” Tony’s laugh was fond and maybe even a little melancholy as he set the book down again. “I labeled the picture as ‘Honeybear in the Near Nude’ and I really thought he was gonna kill me. Really did. Actually feared for my life the rest of that semester.”

“...That was the last spring break we had together before graduation.” Tony added after a minute. “Maybe the best week of my life.”

“Did he win--” Bucky stopped when an alarm chimed somewhere in the lab, and the first few lines of Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy started playing. “-- I know this song. What is this?”

“The Andrews Sisters.” Tony snapped his fingers and the music turned up a few notches. “How do you know it?”

“How do you know it?” James returned, his mind spinning with lyrics he knew and a beat he knew and holy shit he’d definitely danced to this before, suddenly James knew he loved dancing.

“It was my Auntie Peggy’s favorite song.” Tony took one of those nasty smoothies from Dum-E. “She taught me to dance to this kind of music and I set it as my alarm because it’s such an unusual sound these days that I couldn’t ever ignore it.”

“I know this song.” James said again, and it was incredible to know something beyond how much pressure it took to snap a man’s collarbone and whether or not the walls were thick enough to stop a bullet. “I love this song.”

“I don’t know if I love it-- hold still, please.” Tony set the prosthesis up to James’s shoulder and notched it in with a few clicks. “--but it makes me think of Peggy, which makes me happy and means that I’m not as cranky when I have to drink this green stuff. How does the arm feel?”

“Bout the same as last time.” James mouthed along with a few of the lines as the song played in the background. “Should I do the same sorta stuff to check it out?”

“Yeah, touch your thumb to each finger and flex your wrist as you do.” Tony instructed around a mouthful of smoothie. “If we can get past that part this time around we’ll move on to something else.”

“Sure.” James went through each motion as Tony directed, touching his finger tips together and rotating his wrist, unable to help a smile as the left hand responded perfectly to his every thought. “Feel great, Tony. This is amazing.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.” Tony’s dark eyes were glowing with excitement, and James’s concentration faltered when Tony leaned in even closer and ran his hand up the metal limb. “All the things I’ve built, and bionic man never made it to my list. I can’t believe what I was missing out on.”

Tony tried to close his hand around the bicep of the left arm and scrunched his nose in delight when his fingers didn’t come anywhere even remotely close to touching. “Alright, you can’t actually pop the knuckles on this hand but make the motion anyway, holding each finger down with your thumb like you’re trying to crack the joint. It’s a weird gesture and not one that everyone can do but it will test the dexterity of the prosthesis as well as prove how well it connects to your mind.”

James hummed along to the music as he followed the easy instruction, laughing in quiet disbelief when the new arm did everything he wanted.

I have two hands again.

I’m whole again.

I’m me again.

“All that looks good, so what we’re going to do now is--”

“Dance with me.” James interrupted and Tony stopped, mouth open. “C’mon there’s all sortsa things we can do to test this thing out but dancing would take care of most of them, right?” he glanced up at the speakers and then back down at Tony. “I love this song, Tony. Dance with me.”

“You want to dance with me?” Tony’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, expression shuttering just like it had at the Expo. “James, I don’t think--”

“I’ll go easy on you.” James tried for coaxing, for teasing, for anything besides fear of another rejection. He might not know a whole lot of anything these days but he knew this song and he knew he really really wanted another chance at whatever had almost happened at the Expo, and damn it Tony’s smile was so pretty he almost couldn’t stand it.

He felt like him all the sudden, two hands and an easy smile and even though the sight of metal gleaming along his left side triggered warning bells somewhere deep in his subconscious, James ignored them for the sake of holding out his hand and curling his fingers hopefully. “Dance with me Tony.”

Spend time with me when I feel human.

“Promise not to step on your toes?” he offered almost desperately now-- please please see me as me, I’m so close to me right now-- but his heart sank when Tony stuttered, “Uh James listen. About-- about the Expo and when we almost--I mean, that’s something we should talk about, right? Before you suggest anything like dancing?”

“Never mind.” This time it was James pulled away, who cleared his throat and blanked his expression and let his words get clipped and a little frosty, unease and insecurity warring with a little bit of self loathing for being so fucking dumb to try and fail again. “Forget I asked.”

“No wait--”

“Tony, I don’t really want to hear all the reasons why you didn’t want to kiss me.” James could almost feel himself fading away, disappearing back behind the gates in his mind as the warning bells about the metal arm started to get loud again. “Or all the ways I was misreading everything I thought I saw. Guess I’m more outta practice with this than I thought I was and I don’t want you saying yes cos you feel bad for me or anything, just leave it be.”

Silence, and James cleared his throat, tried not to let the misery and feeling of failure seep too far into his voice. “What else do I need to do to test this thing out?”

“No, don’t change the subject, we should talk about this.” Tony scrubbed his hand over his mouth and closed his eyes. “Fuck me, I’m bad at this but I’ve been working on talking things out and trying to say what I mean instead of being sarcastic all the time so here we go. James, about what happened at the Expo--”

“Tony don’t.”

“--Do you think Rhodey is hot or not?” Tony burst out and James’s mouth fell open. “Do you?”

“...He’s a good lookin’ fella, sure.”

“Okay.” Tony nodded a few times. “Okay, because I think he’s hot too but it’s taken me twenty five years to be able to say that out loud. You know what I mean?”

“I--” James hesitated. “No. Sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”

“It means I’ve been pretending for twenty five years that I don’t notice anything remotely attractive about Rhodey and this is the first time in my life I’m not lying about it.” Tony’s eyes were wide, a streak of red painted high on his cheeks. “My Dad was flat out against anything like that and I don’t know if my Ma knew or not, but it’s been twenty five years and I’m just now comfortable saying it.”

“...okay?”

“And then you went and almost kissed me at the Expo and it all sort of--” Tony made a crazy motion with his hands. “-- I didn’t handle it very well and I’m sorry, but it wasn’t you, it was me and my Dad’s voice right here--” a finger to his temple. “--saying a whole lot of things. You get it?”

James wet his lips and clenched his fists and Tony kept staring, kept hoping James understood even a little bit.

“Twenty five years.” he repeated, chewing at the inside of his cheek and pressing his palm to the reactor to ease the anxious balling up inside. “And it sucks that I made it to over forty before I managed to stop listening to all that crap about who I am and who I’m supposed to be attracted to, but it is what it is. I promise you’re not reading anything wrong on my end, but I’ve never been brave enough to do this before so I gotta know-- am I reading it all wrong on your end?”

And after a quiet, shaky breath, “Do you hear all that shit in your head saying this is wrong too, or is it just me that’s a ball of goddamn conflicted?”

“Goddamn conflicted.” James repeated, and his mind went back who knows how many years ago to all the things he used to hear when he tried to hide, when he went to church in secret and tried to confess, when he gave in a few times and quit pretending to be just like the other fellas.

C’mon now, you know better than to think like that. We like dames, don’t we? Stop starin’.

The Good Book wholly condemns those who engage in perversion, James. Ask for forgiveness and move on from such sin.

Look, what we do here at night is one thing, but don’t go talkin’ bout it in the day time, I’m not a queer, you just got a pretty mouth.

Stay away from that side of town, don’t you know that’s where the fags go?

Tony was asking for understanding and for another chance, for forgiveness because of his reaction and offering an explanation that sounded an awful lot like what James heard in his head every time he thought about how beautiful Tony was.

“I’m so bad at this.”

James must have been quiet too long, because Tony muttered a curse and sat back in his own chair. “Shit. I am so damn bad at this. You know what, maybe we should call it a day and try again tomorrow, I’m clearly not up to dancing or working or putting together sentences or making any fucking sense so--”

“Tony.” James made up his mind and held out his hand again, eyes hopeful and voice as soft as he could make it. “I love this song. Dance with me?”

“Okay.” Tony’s fingers shook just a little as he placed them in James’s palm. “I love this song too.”

*****************

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy wasn’t a slow song by any means, and Tony was several years past his last dance lesson with Peggy, but after a few mis steps and playful arguments about who exactly was going to lead, James finally flexed his left arm and lifted Tony right off the ground to announce, “If you can lift me up, you’re welcome to lead, Tony.” and Tony laughed in surprise and kept right on laughing as JARVIS started the song over and James took him out between the desks for a dance.

“You’re doing it wrong.” James chuckled and dragged Tony forward into the right steps, left hand secure at Tony’s hip and right hand clasped around Tony’s fingers lightly. “Come on, it’s swing not a waltz. Loosen up for me.”

“You don’t remember your own last name but somehow you remember how to swing dance?” Tony was out of breath already, but game to try and keep up step for step, easing his body towards pliant so James could lead them through the familiar patterns. “How’d you get so good at this anyway?”

“I know this song.” James repeated, concentrating on the give of Tony’s waist soft beneath the hard fingers and not on the headache coming along with thoughts of dancing and maybe even watching the Andrews sisters up on stage as they sang the song which-- that didn’t make sense because the song was seventy something years old at this point wasn’t it? No way he saw them perform.

“I just know it.” he decided, and then teasing, “Or maybe I’m just a better dancer than you.”

“I could ballroom dance your socks off.” Tony announced, and barked a startled laugh when James spun him out into a quick twirl. “I didn’t take six years of lessons with Madame Laurent for nothing. Swing dancing just isn’t exactly my forte.”

“Well next time I give you a lesson, make sure you’re wearin’ a twirly skirt so I can get ya above my head and take a peek, huh?” James grinned, and there his voice went slipping soft and flirty and so damn Brooklyn Tony stumbled and nearly fell when his heart jolted in his chest.

Twenty five years it took to even admit out loud that Rhodey was a damn hottie and now Tony was faced with a soldier right out of his musical-themed day dreams who could dance and smile and talked like all his favorite characters from movies he’d watched enough times to ruin the tapes.

Twenty five years to admit something as dumb as his best friend being attractive and now James was laughing with him and teasing and the mis-step at the Expo seemed ages ago, almost impossible with the way the soldier’s pale eyes were lit up right now and the way James’s fingers held just a little tighter at Tony’s waist and pulled him in close through a turn and ohhhh their bodies brushed together and Tony closed his eyes when a bolt of heat went straight to his core.

Was he so touch starved and miserably horny that a silly dance to his Auntie’s ancient music was going to get him hard?

Another turn and another touch and James’s hand slipped lower along Tony’s waist and he nearly passed out.

Yep. Yep he really was that touch starved and miserably horny.

Except not really miserable. Tony was having the most fun in the world dodging lab tables and chairs as James got more confident with his steps and JARVIS kept the song playing around them. A few banged ankles and stepped on toes were worth feeling the heat pouring off James’s chest, the steel like security of the left arm contrasted with the drugging warmth of the right hand when James cupped the back of Tony’s head to hold him steady through a quick turn and two step.

The music went on, the dance got easier, and then their legs tangled almost to the point of catastrophe and James caught Tony laughing as they crashed together--

--and Tony bit his tongue to quiet a moan when he felt James’s body reacting against his own.

“J-James?”

“Tony.” This time James knew he wasn’t reading anything wrong, this time he wasn’t going to second guess himself and this time Tony was definitely leaning in and standing on his toes--

“Shit!” James jerked away at the last second, jerked away and recoiled when everything seized along his left side and lit up painful, sparks popping behind his eyes. “Ow! Tony help!”

“Damn it, come here and sit down so I can get it off.” Moment temporarily stalled, Tony slid right back into inventor mode and pushed James down onto the closest chair so he could get to work disconnecting the new arm. “I don’t know what’s going on with this thing, I really thought I could just connect it to your shoulder but I might have to go a little deeper into your chest to fix it, maybe even do something with adjustable plates since this piece doesn’t really move, then everything could re calibrate individually as needed….”

Tony trailed off into mumbling as James lay back and tried to breathe through the pain shooting across his chest. Everything on his left side felt like it was on fire, like it used to those first few months after waking up beneath that bridge, phantom weight dragging his shoulder down and the feeling of needles in his skin.

It hurt and he growled a rough curse when Tony pushed at his shoulder experimentally.

“Sorry.” Tony said immediately. “Sorry about that. I can fix this, I definitely can. JARVIS run some simulations on using individual pieces instead of one solid on like the armor-- the arm. Not long lines like muscles but horizontal plates instead. A hundred small calculations to adjust as he moves, not three or four major ones.”

“Yes sir.”

“One two three, off.” Tony pulled the arm off and hurried it back to the fabrication station so JARVIS could take the appropriate scans and start working on the changes. “Okay, you still with me? James?”

A bottle of water pressed into James’s hand, and Tony hesitated before resting his palms on James’s thighs. “Feeling okay?”

“Feeling like shit for ruining our dance.” James grit out, honest because there was no reason to lie to Tony, no reason to hide his disappointment when he knew Tony had been having just as much as him. “Sorry about that.”

“Rescheduled doesn’t mean ruined.” Tony said the words lightly but his heart was in his throat, waiting to see if James would acknowledge the clear invitation. “Right?”

“Right.” The corner of James’s mouth crooked up into a smile. “Rescheduled.”

A smile meant good things, the invitation to another dance meant lots of very good things so Tony gathered every bit of his courage, every bit of determination he had about completing his bucket list, all the hope he’d gotten every time James smiled at him or flirted a little and all the butterflies in his stomach from their dance and said softly, so softly,--

“James, I-- I’d like to take you to bed.”

And James’s eyes opened wide and incredulous, “...what?!”

****************

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****************

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nostalgiabones · 4 years

Text

Without Me // M.C

This is for @sadistmichael’s Michael event! Thank you so much for holding this Jex — I’m always here for as much inclusive Michael content as we can get so I’m so glad to be a part of this! Please check out the other writers blurbs/fics who have written for this event too, under the tag #michael2020 ♥️

The idea for this is based on this text post! I also made a side blog where i’m going to be reblogging inspo for writing, so follow me at @loveroflrhwrites if you’re interested in seeing that!

Content — singledad!Michael x non-gendered reader

“Hey, I’m home. Where are my two favourite people?”

Michael’s loud voice calls out from the door to his apartment — his black boots squeaking against the wooden floor as he enters the place he calls home. The scent of a familiar dish instantly fills his senses; Levi’s favourite chicken and vegetable pasta. He spots his own dinner plated up on the kitchen counter, and his stomach rumbles at the sight.

He drops his keys in the dish next to the door, before removing his boots and jacket. He wonders why the apartment is so quiet — definitely out of the ordinary.

Michael is confused as he moves through the apartment, yet he doesn’t have to look far until he solves the mystery of the quietness. His gaze softens as he spots you on the sofa, Levi tucked up to your side — his head on your shoulder as the two of you have an evening nap. He knows Levi shouldn’t really be asleep at this time, but since he’s already had dinner, he hopes he can just move him to his bed and let him have an early night.

“Hey, bud.” Michael kneels down next to the sofa, ever so gently pushing Levi’s hair away from his face. He stirs, a hand lifting to rub at his eyes, as he realises he’s fallen asleep in the lounge. He gives him a minute to wake up and to get his bearings. “I’m here. Shall we go to bed, huh? Are you sleepy?”

He’s met with a small nod, and Levi cuddles up to you a little more — wanting to retain the warmth radiating from you and the thick fluffy blanket you’re tucked under. He holds his arms out to Michael, letting him pick him up, and curling into his chest to stay warm. Michael kisses his forehead as he holds him for the first time that day, feeling content with the weight of his son in his arms.

“I missed you so much today, bubba. I’m not going to the studio tomorrow so we can do whatever you want, okay?” Michael speaks quietly to his son, not wanting to disturb him anymore than he already has. He feel as though he hasn’t spent anywhere near as much time as he should’ve with Levi this week and it makes his heart ache. After another long day working on the album, he told his bandmates that he needs tomorrow off, that he needs the time to spend with his son and partner. They understand — they always do.

“Okay, dad.” Levi is trying to hold onto the sleep he had fallen into. There’s nothing he loves more then spending the day with Michael and you (and Milo), especially when he’s given the choice of what to do. Levi is usually chatty — especially when Michael has just gotten home, and he hasn’t seen him all day. Not in his current sleepy state though. “Can we go swimming please?”

“If that’s what you want to do buddy,” Michael replies, carrying him through to his bedroom. Levi has done a few swimming lessons so far, and he loves it — especially when Michael is there to get involved.

Michael leans down, pulling back Levi’s planet themed duvet (following his latest obsession — space and everything to do with it) and setting the four year old down into it. He kneels down next to the bed, watching as Levi curls up against the soft sheets, lying on his front, his hands above his head. He’s slept like that ever since he was a baby and Michael loves that he still does it now.

“Good night, Levi. Have a good sleep so we can have a fun day tomorrow,” He whispers, tucking the covers over his back and running his fingertips through his hair. “You know where we are if you need us. I love you.”

“Love you, dad.” He murmurs sleepily in response, and Michael’s heart melts at the sound — he still remembers the first time Levi told him that he loves him, and it still provokes the same reaction every time.

Michael stays there for a moment, rubbing his hand over Levi’s back gently until he knows he’s fallen asleep once more. He stands up, switching on the moon and stars nightlight on the dresser, illuminating the room with a soft yellow glow. Levi hasn’t quite defeated his fear of the dark yet, and Michael wasn’t going to rush him, although they were working on it.

He softly closes the door behind him, heading back to the lounge where you were still asleep on the sofa. It’s then he notices the Disney + home screen on the TV, and it’s clear the two of you had fallen asleep watching a movie.

“Hey, you,” Michael gently shakes your shoulder, sitting on the edge of the sofa. All he wants to do is to get under the soft blanket and cuddle up next to you, yet he knows he should help you into bed instead, where you’ll be more comfortable. “Wakey wakey sleepy head.”

You furrow your eyebrows at the disturbance, slowly opening your eyes to find Michael in front of you. You realise Levi is no longer next to you and whatever movie you were watching has finished, and that Michael is home from the studio.

“When did you get back?” You ask sleepily, stretching out your arms and shoulders from where you’ve been laid on the sofa for so long. He smiles at your voice, heavy with tiredness — it makes him feel soft and warm inside. “And why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“How rude of me.” He murmurs, leaning forward to drop a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, before he brushes his lips against yours in a greeting kiss. “I’m sorry, baby. Also I got home about five minutes ago, I just put Levi to bed.”

“I made you dinner,” You tell him, sitting up a little so you can cuddle into his side. His hoodie is warm and soft and smells like him, a subtle scent of fresh cotton that always reminds you of him. His arm wraps around your shoulders and his hand lands on your side, thumb rubbing little circles. “It’ll need heating up, I can do it if you want.”

He shakes his head, turning to press a kiss to your temple as you attempt to stay awake.

“I got it babe, thank you.” He replies, deciding he’ll eat it in bed. He knows if you stay out here you’ll fall asleep again, and he can’t think of a better way to spend the rest of the evening than having an early night with you. He playfully slaps your thigh to coax you to stand up. “Come on, let’s get in bed.”

“You’ll get crumbs in the bed.” You yawn as you stand up, rubbing your eyes once more as he rolls his.

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael replies, knowing that you’re right, and even in your half asleep state you’re still aware of how messy he can be. “If it annoys you so much you can go to your own bed next door.”

His touch lingers on your hip as you sleepily rest your head on his shoulder, furrowing your eyebrows and pouting at his words — mumbling a “you’re so mean to me” as you head to his bedroom. His bedroom, that recently, had felt more like your own since you spent so much time there. It would take you less than 30 seconds to go next door to your own bed, but why would you when there’s no Michael in there to hold you? Even Milo’s bed has ended up in his room.

“Time to tuck my second baby into bed.” Michael comments, pulling back his duvet so you can climb into the bed. The room is cosy and familiar — it’s so easy to feel at home there, especially since spending so much time in his apartment. “Did you have a good day with Levi?”

You nod, yawning as your head hits the pillow. You gravitate towards the middle of the bed, your face pressed against Michael’s cushion as he changes out of his jeans and hoodie into a pair of shorts. He silently gestures for you to move over as he gets into the bed next to you, holding his arm out so you can lay on his chest.

“Yeah, we did some reading. He’s getting much better with the spaceman book we started,” You reply, cuddling into his side as his fingers lightly trace circles on your back. His skin is warm against your face as you lay against him, your head on his shoulder. “I think it helps that it’s space related. I swear you could get him to do anything if astronauts are involved.”

Michael smiles at your words, his heart aching with how he misses his son, even though he’s only in the room across from you. He never thought he’d be away from him so much, not until he met you — since he had so much anxiety about finding a babysitter for Levi. He didn’t have to worry about that now, yet the guilt of spending more time at the studio eats at him.

“My little space nerd.” He chuckles, his bottom lip forming a pout as he thinks about his son. He also thinks about how grateful he is to have you and how glad he is that Levi has a positive influence around him, when he’s not there. “Thanks for watching him, babe. You know how much I appreciate it.”

You lift your head to kiss his scruffy jaw, his skin scratchy against your lips due to his facial hair growing out a little longer than he usually leaves it.

“You’re welcome. He’s a sweet boy, I love hanging out with him.” You reply, pulling the duvet up over your shoulders to get comfortable against him. “Now, are you gonna eat dinner before I fall asleep again?”

“I’m too comfortable now,” He groans, although he knows he should eat since he hasn’t had the chance to all day. His lips brush over your forehead a few times before you roll over onto your own side of his bed, letting him go and get his dinner. He stands up from the bed, yawning before heading to the kitchen. “Be right back.”

“Hurry, Michael.” You call out behind him. “The bed isn’t the same without you.”

***

Feedback is always very appreciated! Please let me know of any other requests you have for Michael & Levi 💘

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

Birdy (Green Eyes / 2)

Read the first part, Green Eyes, here! :-)

Blurb Synopsis: After finally meeting the mysterious Mr. Styles you subbed for, you take a job at the same school, right across the hall from him. You’re unsure how much longer you can hide your feelings for him as you’ve grown to become best friends.

Genre: Teacher Harry, fluff, romance, angst, and a little sad.

Warnings: None

Word Count: Nearly 8k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Blackbird by The Beatles (click to listen)

Your desk was covered in Twix wrappers, multicolored gel pens, and empty cans of Coke. The new school year hadn’t even begun, and your desk already looked like a tornado had come by. Not to mention the fact that school started in almost three weeks and you hardly had any classroom books. You kept telling yourself it’s a high school English classroom, not a third-grade classroom. There’s a library down the hall for a reason, but the classroom barren of books drove you nuts. Your desk wasn’t shy to books though, as favorites of Harry had found a home on the dark wood.

Leaves of Grass.

Catcher in the Rye.

The Sun Also Rises.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Walking into your classroom on this sunny morning, the thought makes the smile on your face grow wider. Finally, you can say that you have your own classroom. The sight of the week-old books leaves the smile there on your lips. A laugh dances off of them at the sight of the Roald Dahl book, bringing you back to the memory when you found it there one morning.

You had asked Harry why he included it in the occasional stack of books he loaned to you. He said it’s required reading, because so few people know the movies are based on a book. You’re just wondering when he’s going to slip The Outsiders or Stuart Little under your door next.

The rows of ancient cream desks stare back at you, and you wonder just how you’re going to command a classroom in a few days. Well, seven of them to be exact. Then you try to remind yourself, for the twentieth time, that you’ve done this before. It won’t be so hard, then. Perhaps you’ll even have some past students, and that should help. Right?

You’ve barely gotten a few steps into your classroom, because of the thoughts muddling your mind. Sighing, you slip off your bag to leave on your chair. One that some days you don’t even sit in, because your legs are walking miles around your classroom, setting up. Thumbtacks are scattered across the expanse of your desk, reminding you of the unfinished walls. Before you can think about the posters sitting in the corner, a flash of pink catches your eye. Furrowing your brow, your eyes flit back to the flash of color.

It’s a hot pink Post-It note with messy handwriting in black ink.

Should I get us burgers or subs for the meeting we have today?

PS: You’re officially a teacher now with your own pad of Post-Its ;)

You’re sure that the insane happiness painting your face would look more at home on that of a teenager. Nonetheless, you can’t get rid of it, and you wouldn’t want to. This rings even more true when you see the note is stuck to a copy of Matilda. A warmth blossoms in your chest as you pick it up, running your thumb along the weathered edges. Ones you haven’t touched in ages, it seems. Within seconds you’re stepping into the hallway, thoughts knitting together in your mind. They’re from the love you have deep down for this story, a favorite book, and movie of yours as a child. The elation budding in your mind stops when you find his door closed, just as you had minutes ago. Unable to hide your disappointment, a pout tugs at your lips as you turn around.

“Ya gotta verdict already? Dat was quick,” a voice drawls from behind you. Your pout is a thing of the past, and a grin is making its way to replace it. Spinning around, your summery dress follows your twirling body.

A couple paces away, Harry stands at the top step of the staircase. His trademark brown leather backpack is slung over one shoulder. A black Fleetwood Mac t-shirt hugs his upper half, a black and blue flannel covering his arms. His old skool Vans echo down the hallway as he walks towards you.

“Well, I’ve already read it,” you inform him, observing his content smile turn into a confused one. “A couple of times actually. Once when I was 8, then some other times through the years.”

“Ah, so I got lucky and happened upon a lifetime favourite, have I?” he smirks, only a few steps away now.

“Mmmhmm,” you nod, your growing hair tickling your chin before you move it away. “When are you going to tell me what your favorite book is?”

“When ya finally guess it right,” he quips, stopping in front of you. A dimple falls into his left cheek as he shows off his sparkling teeth. Okay, sir, it is too early in the morning to be looking this attractive.

“I’m going to have to ask you to stop being so chipper when it’s only nine in the morning,” you tell him firmly, but it’s all for show. Poking his chest, your finger just hits pure muscle. Swoon.

“Then maybe wake up, already, birdy,” he chirps, the Raybans in his hair moving when his head goes from side to side. Chuckling, he grabs hold of your finger and tries to bite it, but you pull away in time. The mention of the recent pet name slows you down, but you haven’t gotten bitten yet. “Ya betta not fall asleep in today’s meetin’ like ya did last week.”

“I didn’t fall asleep, I was just resting my eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands into the air. His amused giggle greets your ears as he unclips his ring of keys from his blue jeans.

“Yes ya did, ya don’t getta lie t’ me, love,” he responds in between laughs, seemingly finding this more amusing than it really is.

“Oh, so John can fall asleep at meetings, but I can’t?” you ask, your voice raising with laughter and faux annoyance.

You watch Harry pluck his sunglasses from his head as you walk into his dark classroom. The streams of sunlight speckle desks and pictures donning his walls. As you flick on the light, the smell of oranges wafts over you again. The red bowl sat upon his desk filled with the citrus makes you feel at home, albeit his mere presence does that without fail.

“No, ya can’t. Sorry, love. I don’t make tha rules ‘round here.”

“Lame,” you sigh, paging through the book mindlessly as you fall into his new chair. He finally splurged and bought a comfy leather one that you steal every chance you can get.

“Want a Bit-O-Honey, honey?” Harry offers, pulling your eyes away from the familiar pictures. Grinning, you take the wrapped candy from his outstretched hand, trying to ignore the pet name. You find it hard to forget as you half look through the book and half watch him peel off his flannel. A sight, indeed.

“Wait, how’d you put this in my room if the door was locked? The other books you sneaked in when I stepped out,” you ask suddenly, working on the piece of hard candy in your mouth.

“I tol’ Marty tha janitor I forgot sumthin’ in yer room.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice even though his back is to you. A broad one at that. When he turns just the slightest to peek at you, you find crinkles around his glimmering eyes.

“Harry!” you scoff, your jaw falling to your chest, although not quite.

“Oh stop it, ya know ya like it.”

Groaning, you cross your arms over your chest in annoyance, but it doesn’t last very long.

“I don’t like all of these meetings,” you complain, throwing your head back onto the headrest. You flip to a page that makes you smile at the sight of cartoon Matilda.

“Get used t’ it, ‘s one o’ tha big differences between bein’ a sub an’ a salaried teacher. Shoulda just stayed a sub then,” he jokes, driving you to pick up a Bit-O-Honey and throw it at his head. Turning away from the things he’s unloading from his backpack, he whines. “Heeey! Watch dat arm o’ yers, ‘s a scary one. Maybe ya should be teachin’ gym class instead.”

“Sports are ew,” you reply, ducking when he throws it back at you. “Harry Styles, you stop it!” you manage in between giggles, finally closing the book.

“Oh ya, and what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it in t’ose heels, huh?” he teases, his hands leaving the pockets of his oversized backpack. “Ya gonna fly over t’ me, li’l birdy?”

Huffing, you set down the book on his neat desk. Placing his hands on his hips, he turns to you and sticks out his tongue.

“Oh, that’s it! You’re going to get it!” you threaten, standing from the chair as his laughter fills the room.

“‘m soooo scared, boohoo,” he teases with a fake sob, his fists mimicking wiping tears from his cheeks. Snickering, he returns to his backpack. “Go hang up yer posters in yer room and leave me be fer once.”

“You’re no fun,” you proclaim with a final whimper. Grabbing the book, you come up from behind him, softly hitting him with it on the shoulder.

“I warned you,” he retorts. Before you know it, he gently grabs your wrist and pulls you over to stand in front of him.

“Warned me about what?” you jest, a giggle wedging its way into your sentence as you drop the book onto a desk. You know that you’re getting on his nerves now. It’s the only time you’ve heard his teacher voice come out, but hey, you’re not complaining.

His thick eyebrows above those eyes raise, wrinkling his forehead tan from your days at the beach the last few months. Harry pushing you off a rope swing into the water, him bitching about doing all of the paddling during your canoe trip, not so accidentally drenching your back with water from his paddle, and head dunking competitions while swimming. The tan looks far better on him, you think, as you admire the sun-kissed freckles peppering his face.

“I told ya one time dat yer good at pushin’ me buttons, and here ya are doin’ it. I know I shoulda neva told ya dat,” he mutters, the curls atop his head dancing as his head rocks back and forth. The nervous laughter bubbling inside of you finds its escape, and you know that you’ve done it now. “But I guess ya jus’ don’t listen, do ya, bird?”

You can’t stop yourself, and there you are poking his dimple with your finger. This time, you squeal when it finds its way between his nibbling teeth. His name leaves your lips in a near shout which only grows worse as his fingers dance along your ribs.

“Stop, stop!” you cry out, but with no avail. His other arm comes around your middle to trap you with your back against a desk, despite your squirming. His other fingers dig into your sides before finding the soft flesh of your tummy.

“Stop bloody screamin’, yer gonna make e’rybody think ‘m murderin’ ya or sumthin’,” he titters. You almost give in at the sight of his crinkly eyes and the smile stretching across his face.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I might jus’ hafta find a way t’ shut ya up, my li’l bird,” he coos from above you, a brunette brow raising.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really,” he hums, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your side now.

His bubblegum lips relax, falling into a knowing smirk. The laughs disappear from the both of you as his fingers still, resting on your side. The seconds tick by as your heart hammers in your chest, because his face is closer than it was a second ago. You gulp, suddenly finding the gold flecks in his eyes you didn’t know were there. Or the smattering of tiny freckles along his nose. That all becomes a thought of the past when his lips become the only thing you can think about as they near you. “Shall I?” Harry says in a breathy whisper, and you’re nodding even before his last syllable hits the air.

Your skin feels hot and prickly all over as your eyes fall closed, waiting for what happens next. The very thing you’ve dreamed of since that day you dropped the books in front of him. When he took off his shirt at the beach, revealing his toned chest covered in black tattoos. The charisma and kindness he carried at your very first meeting after you were hired, the beginning of you two being joined at the hip.

His lips are soft when he presses them against yours, and warm. He surrounds your lips with his slowly, as excitement rushes through you. A woodsy smell engulfs you when your nose brushes against his prickly cheek. His lips feel like velvet against yours with the slightest taste of Carmex chapstick. You’re sure he can feel the smile hiding on yours as his top lip fits between yours like a puzzle piece. His thin beard you’ve never seen him without tickles at your skin as your lips mold together. You can still feel the tingle on your lips after he’s pulled away. As well as the one that spreads across your body when those green eyes look into yours.

“See, I was right. It did get you t’ shuddup,” he mumbles, the blissed-out smirk on his face covering every inch of his skin. You’ve seen his nervous smiles and everything in between, but you’re certain you’ve never seen that smile before. Not that your face is any better, because right now it’s a competition between whose smile is bigger. It might just be a tie, and you wish there could be a tie-breaker.

“You should do that more often,” you smile, an uneasy laugh bringing an end to your risky words.

“I think ‘d be happy with dat.”

You try to tell yourself you’re glad his hands didn’t stray to your face, because he would’ve felt the heat of your tomato likened cheeks. There’s no use, because you want them there, but on your sides, as they are is better than nothing. It fills your stomach with multitudes of butterflies just to have your hands on each other.

His hands draw shapes into your back when you wrap him in a hug. The fresh smell of his citrus body wash fills your nose, your skin touching the fabric of his shirt.

“Ya gonna get all soft on me now, are ya?” he whispers above you, his cheek against the side of your head.

“Mmmhmm,” is all you can muster as you find yourself dragging the tips of your fingers along his side.

Raising your head to peek up at him, his eyes drop to you. “Good, I like ya dat way,” he murmurs, running his thumb along the roundness of your cheek. His tongue peeks out of his lips, held between his teeth. “Verdict?” he almost laughs, causing the butterflies inside of you to stir.

“I don’t know. I think I might need um, another sample,” you smirk, watching a corner of his mouth meet his cheek.

“Tha’s fair,” he agrees before dipping to plant another kiss to your lips. His lips are even more decadent a second time, and you quickly realize how addicting this could become. You realize it’s the only addiction you’d be okay with having as the tip of his nose caresses your cheek.

Your lips part with a soft smack, much too soon for your liking. “We should prolly get back t’ work,” Harry snickers, his breath against your face sweet from the caramel candy.

“Yeah,” you agree aloud, much to your dismay. “I’d give it an A, by the way.”

“Hmmm,” he thinks aloud, quirking his eyebrows in response.

“A long overdue one.”

“‘d say yer right there,” he echos, pinching your cheek between his fingers. Giggling, you pull away as your laughs mix with each other’s.

“Hey, Harry!” a voice calls, sounding far away.

You separate quickly, like two magnets repelling each other. It saddens you, but when a colleague steps into Harry’s classroom a moment later, you’re met with relief as you grab the book off the desk.

“Hi, Trent. Ya ready t’ see who falls asleep first in t’day’s meetin’?” he quips, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly leaning against a desk.

“My money’s on John, for sure,” Trent jokes, pressing his red glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Oh hi, Y/N,” he says, greeting you. You wave with a small ‘hi’ as you stand at the edge of the classroom near the windows uneasily.

“I dunno, my money feels pretty good on her,” Harry teases, pointing a finger at you before winking.

“Whatever. I better go take my nap now that you reminded me,” you return, sauntering out of the room and into the hall.

Out of his presence, the butterflies take flight inside of you. A warmth fills your body all over when you reach the safety of your classroom. Closing the door, you fall against it with happiness jumping from the smile on your lips. Squealing with your hands held to your chest, you soon sigh at the thought of his lips. His lips soon being on yours again, and again, and again.

Exhaling, you step down from the chair and stare at your hard work. Nodding in approval, you straighten the skirt of your patterned mustard dress. The happy face of Anne Frank looks back at you from the enlarged poster of her autobiography. Dragging your feet over to your desk, you plop onto your brown spinny chair, ignoring your heels forgotten on the floor. You bask in the new ambiance of your classroom, feeling the pleasure from the new posters donning your walls.

The Diary of Anne Frank.

Ross from F.R.I.E.N.D.S saying ‘you’re means y-o-u a-r-e.’

The quote, ‘Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not’ - Tyrion Lannister.

A funny grammar poster that makes you feel like an even bigger English nerd.

Frowning, the last poster in the corner sits there begging to be shown off, but you need help with it. After the events of earlier, you’re nervous to approach Harry. A sweet kind of nervousness, but nonetheless it’s there. Huffing, you grab the edge of the desk to pull you closer. Pressing play, the Queen song crawls from your laptop’s speakers, slowly filling the room. Clicking through your open windows, you finally find the unit plan you’ve been working on.

Voices carry down the hallway outside your door, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. Squinting, as if it will help your hearing, you then tilt your head to look out your half-opened door. Jackson from the nearby history wing walks by, laughing at something somebody said.

“Dis betta not be a bloody heavy desk, Jack,” somebody responds, amusement laced in their voice.

“Hey, I know that voice,” you softly whisper to yourself, your lips curling at its sound.

“You’re the one who agreed to help me! You can’t get out of helping me bring it in now, Harry!”

You hear the melodic sound of his laugh, perhaps one of your favorite sounds. The butterflies return when you let yourself think about getting to hear it as much as you’d like in these walls. 5 days a week for 9 months out of the year- well, something like that.

A couple seconds later, Harry zooms past your door saying, “Get t’ work!” in a mocking deep voice, winking.

“You!” you shout back, giggling to yourself with hot cheeks. You attempt to return your attention to the document open on your screen. It’s difficult, you find, because the thing consuming your mind is how nice Harry’s bum looked in those jeans.

Chatter pecks at your ears as you swivel in your chair, watching your new colleagues converse around the table. Your new boss laughs with somebody standing at the room’s front by the projector screen. Reaching forward, you pluck another carrot from your plate to nibble on nervously. Once again, you pull out your phone to busy yourself, only making you feel guiltier for not mingling. You’ve already said at least a ‘hi’ to everyone in this room already, and you have the rest of your career to get to know them, you tell yourself. Bouncing your leg, your eyes drift to the clock on the wall. Impatience spreads like a hot wave throughout your limbs, bringing your eyes yet again to the back door to the conference room. When is he going to get here, you guess fervently, counting down the minutes until the meeting starts.

A thud! surprises you when a white paper bag lands on the table in front of you.

“Hmm, I didn’t know ya were a jumpa,” a voice snickers, its owner soon coming into view in front of you. Harry. “Why ya lookin’ like a lost puppy, bird?” he coos, pushing out his bottom lip as he pulls out the chair to your right.

“I’m not,” you retort, continuing to scroll through Instagram, stopping when you see a picture of a Goldendoodle puppy.

“Yes, ya do. What, were ya wonderin’ what’d ya do if I didn’t show? Can’t have ya missin’ yer security blanket now,” he teases, poking you in the ribs with a glint in his eye.

“Stop,” you giggle, placing your phone face down on the table. Sitting up and eyeing the food, you pinch his thigh for good measure.

“Hey, watch those fingas, missy. They keep gettin’ ya into trouble lately,” he warns, tsking as his head goes from side to side. Opening the bag, he pulls out a familiar wrapped burger to hand to you.

“Thank you, I’ll pay you back.”

“Shhhh, ya can pay next time. Sound good?” Harry hums, flitting his eyes to you with an eyebrow raise.

You give him his answer with a nod before taking a bite of the cheeseburger. Your boss starts to tell everybody to find a seat so they can begin the meeting. Out of the corner of your eye, Harry sets a packet of fries in front of you. Shooting him a smile, he returns it as he feeds one between his happy lips. Chairs squeak and whine as they’re moved and sat in around the long table. Somebody nudges your foot, and to no surprise, you find it’s Harry. He holds out a covered paper cup, a red straw poking from the top. A ‘thank you’ is held in your smile and he just nods, slipping off his sunglasses to set down. Your attention is stolen by his fingers raking through his curls to put them back in place.

A thought pops into your head unwarranted, and consumes your attention as the principal speaks. I wonder if this means now I get to run my fingers through those curls, you ponder as you grab a fry. At the most inconvenient time possible, your mind starts to dig around. Doubts soon fill your thoughts, along with questions about what this will be with him. You try to push them away and lock them in a box, but they’ve done their job. Any smile left on your lips is gone now, and you continue to eat your burger quietly.

“Ya eat jus’ like a bird with t’ose li’l bites,” Harry whispers, scooting closer to the table to retrieve the packets of ketchup from the bag.

Turning to look at him, he holds a glowing smile in his eyes for you. His shoe knocks into yours and he leaves it sitting on top of yours. Take that, stupid brain, you announce to your thoughts as you affectionately bump your knee against Harry’s.

Reverting your thoughts to the towering figure speaking at the front of the room, a smile buds on your lips at the feeling of Harry rubbing his knee against yours.

Rubbing your hands across your eyes, you feel the breath leave you in a whoosh. Tapping the board with your electronic marker that’s a pen, highlighter, and an eraser in one, you drag it in zig zags. The scribbles on the board disappear in a flash. Suddenly, it falls from your hands when you feel a pair of arms surround your waist.

“Hiya, bird,” a voice says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Their warm breath tickles the nape of your neck, and so does the collar of their shirt. Spinning around, you find Harry standing there, a pout forming on his face. The adorable Starry Night tie you bought for him hangs loosely over his cornflower blue button-down. “What, why won’t ya lemme hug you?”

“Harry, anybody could walk in,” you insist, prying his arms from your waist. Bending down, you pick up the pen and place it back in its holder with a click.

“All tha students are gone by now, babe. ‘s half past 3, and any dat are around are at practice. Tha last place they’d wanna be ‘s back t’ a classroom afta their first day o’ school,” he murmurs, wedging his way back into your good graces as he pulls you back into his arms. “I wanted t’ see how me birdy’s first day went. Sooooo, wha’s tha verdict?”

“It was good. A little overwhelming, though,” you hum in return, letting your head fall backward to fit against his cheek.

“It ‘s fer e’rybody, love, so don’t worry. It’ll get betta, jus’ hang in there. Tha first month ‘s nothin’, that’s tha honeymoon period befo’ e’rythin’ goes wild.” His lips brush against your cheek with every word, the feeling of his ticklish stubble something you’re not yet used to.

“Harry!” you scoff, turning your head to find his hairy cheeks creased with a devilish smile behind you.

“‘m kiddin’, well not really, but hey, ya got me t’ help ya through it all. Don’t fret, love,” he tries to assure you, brushing the back of his fingers along your side. “What was yer favourite part o’ yer day, hmm?”

“Seeing some familiar students from when I used to sub. It was nice to catch up with them and hear stories,” you reveal, looking down as you cover his hands settled on your tummy with your own.

“Mmm, that’s good. Familiar faces are always nice,” Harry mumbles, the point of his nose dragging along the expanse of your cheek. “Did I tell ya yet ya look really pretty in yer new dress?”

“Yes, you did. About three times, but thank you again.”

“Welcome, bird. I hope no teenage boys are crushin’ on ya now,” he jests, planting a loud kiss on your temple. The remnants of his minty piece of gum cover your face in a silent cloud as he laughs at his own joke.

“Yuck! Oh and like there aren’t dozens of girls fawning over you in your classes?” you chuckle, bringing a whine to his lips when you squirm in his arms. “Put that lip away.”

“Or what? Hmm, what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it? Ya can kiss it away like all tha girls in me classes wanna do, if ya want,” Harry smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you turn around. Lifting a hand from his arm, it lifts to brush back the brown ringlets falling onto his forehead.

“You’re gross sometimes. It makes me wonder how I can kiss that potty mouth.”

“Well ya do, and ya sure seem t’ like it,” he winks, dramatically licking his lips with a loud slurp.

“Stop!” you exclaim, collapsing into laughter, your head returning to his chest. His hands clasp over your back, his thumb brushing your skin through the jade dress you wear. You’re grateful for your face hidden away in his chest for when you feel his lips pepper kisses from your temple to your neck. He leaves your skin tingling from his magical touch, and his growing curls leave a trail down your neck.

“I think dis year’s gonna be a good one,” he coos against your ear, letting his smooth nose brush against its lobe. “I got tha reason right here.”

“Can we do this though?” The words jump from your lips without a chance to catch them and shove them back in their safety.

“Do what, love? Kiss? ‘Course, ya jus’ take yer lips and my lips, and put ‘em togetha’ like dis,” he wisecracks, lifting your head to show you the humor painting his face. Puckering his flushed lips, he closes the space between you to press a peck to your waiting lips. Pulling away, he quirks an eyebrow at you in silent questioning.

“That’s not what I meant, Harry,” you continue, your words falling short of the thoughts buzzing around in your skull.

“Then what’d ya mean?”

“Can we, I don’t know . . ,” you begin, but you lose your footing. Leaving his arms regrettably, you almost lose your footing quite literally when he tries to hold on. A sound leaves his lips at your departure, but you try to ignore it. That’s easier said than done, you realize as you fight with yourself, wondering if you should say that word or not. “Date . . as colleagues?”

They they are, free to the wind. It feels like coming home and your heavy book bag leaving your shoulders, although this time it’s far less trivial. The similarity doesn’t ease your anxious mind as you stop in front of your desk, fingering at the note that greeted you this morning. A pink Post-It note smattered with his sometimes unreadable handwriting, resting on top of a box of novels he gifted to you for your classroom.

To my favorite teacher - I know you’ve been dreading this day for months, and looking forward to it, too. You’re going to do great. They’re going to love you. You’re not going to mess anything up. You got this, bird. Remember that. Take it easy on yourself. Remember, you have to take care of yourself, so then you can take care of them. You’ll learn from each other too. Just keep remembering pizza at the beach with me tonight to celebrate your first day.

Harry xoxooxoxoxo

“‘Course we can, as long as it doesn’t bleed into our work life. What d’ya mean?” Harry says, trying to inject lightheartedness into his words. You both can hear the failed effect they have, and they only make his words sound sadder.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to like, get in trouble, or something. I just started this job.”

“Oh,” is all he mumbles. Mumbled or not, you hear the finality in his one word. As well as all that it says with that single syllable.

Looking over your shoulder at him, you find the confirmation you needed knitting together his features. “Harry,” you say, turning the rest of your body to face him. He takes a step back, and now you know you’ve done it. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then how’d ya mean it?” he retorts, coolness playing in his voice. He knows he’s done it, too. “Hmmm, bird? Ya only care ‘bout dat part o’ it - if we get caught and what people would think? Only wanna keep me a secret?” His words bite as he spits them into the air. They hit your face with a sting, but nothing compares to how he threw your nickname into the mud. The nickname you love, that happened all because of the first meal you shared together.

“Harry, don’t. You know that’s not what I meant- Y-you’re being ridiculous,” you press, stepping forward. It’s like one step forward and two steps back, because he continues to walk away from you. Quickly, your hands grow shaky as the feeling consumes the rest of your body.

“No, I know what ya meant. Or ‘s there mo’ ya want t’ say? Want t’ say dat ‘Oh, ‘s too risky, so maybe we shouldn’t do dis anymo’, even tho’ it makes us happy,’” Harry persists, his right hand lifting in question, before it falls with a slap to his thigh.

“We never even said what this was,” you try to say, but before you get any further, you know you’re just making it worse. You know that he’ll read into your words incorrectly and assume the worst, despite your true meaning. At the realization, your heart pounds harder in your chest. The look on his face like you just slapped him tells you all you need to know. “Harry, wait.”

“No, yer right. We neva said what dis was, but apparently ‘s nuthin’ worth labelin’ or takin’ risks fer,” he grumbles. His head falls with a spiteful smile, but when it lifts again something shatters in your chest. With wet eyes, he continues in a croaky voice, “Then why’d ya take tha job knowin’ I was mad ‘bout ya?”

Your lips wobble with his name dangling from them. When you try to walk over to him, you’re only two steps in when he holds a hand up. “No, don’t. ‘m glad ya told me early on. ‘m happy I didn’t already start fallin’ fer ya or anythin’. That’d be real shitty, wouldn’t it?” he wheezes, a strange smile tugging at his lips dealing failed sarcasm. Sniffling, a tear falls down his tanned skin and he brushes it away. With a shake of his head, he turns to walk out of the door. You know that you shouldn’t, but you let him, because you know you have to.

Collapsing at your desk, your head falls into your hands. Tears splash into your palms as your chest shakes, wondering just how you turned the best first day into the worst first day.

You know that a note won’t be there, but you continue to wish as your heels clack down the halls of lockers. You know that you’ll see his face no matter how hard you try to avoid him, and that it’ll hurt more than you thought it would. Although you prepared yourself, unlocking the door to your classroom and finding no notes from him hurts more than you suspected. The hurt only stings worse when you pass each other in the halls with your students trailing behind, eyes falling away instantly. The spark in the air is lost when he huffs, passing you on the way to the vending machine in the lounge, leaving as soon as he came. Although the hurt grew as the attacks came and went, nothing could prepare you for the absence of his notes that week. That was an eventuality you had dreaded thinking of since the day you found the first one, back in his classroom.

You tried at the very least, albeit an understatement. Notes dropped into his mailbox went unanswered, as well as texts and phone calls. Even the bag of Bit O Honeys failed at their messages of apology. A few times you thought about trudging into his classroom after the bell rang, and hashing it out. Each time you mustered just enough courage to do so, a staff meeting got in the way. Or, within 5 minutes of the bell, his door was locked and he was gone. Speaking of staff meetings, you suffered even worse at those. No longer was he your security blanket at your side, because he no longer saved you a seat. Slowly, the young and pretty visual arts teacher grew to get on your nerves as you watched her be a little too nice to him. He didn’t entertain her taunts and turn to you with a smirk to rub it in your face. No, he was a good guy, and you had to go and ruin it, or what was becoming of it.

He ignored you - at staff meetings, in the copy room, in the staff lounge, in the halls, when both of your classes were in the library - basically everywhere and anywhere. It was an understatement to say you suffered because of it. You had to buddy up with Jen, the poetry teacher. She took the brunt of your questions, whether technology-related or English related. You became fast friends, but unlike the easiness with Harry, you quickly felt you were a nuisance. That was something he never made you feel like, well, until now that is.

You made the mistake of getting your hopes up when you found a bag of Bit O Honeys in your mailbox one morning. That is until the white note on it told you in his writing to stop plugging his box with them. Instead, you tossed them on the counter in the staff lounge to share, never wanting to see those yellow and red wrappers again. Quickly, what you thought had become your dream job morphed into a nightmare. His face filled your thoughts day after day, and it especially distracted you when your mind chose the tear-stricken memory. It bled into your lectures and although it stung less when you saw him, without fail every day, it was messing with your mind. It didn’t help when you were beginning a unit on Romeo and Juliet and a student joked you could play Juliet and Mr. Styles could play Romeo, quite literally.

You had been staying after school every day to finish lesson plans, grade tests, reflect on teaching, and plan for the next day. The October chill that arrived this week only made you want to stay in your cozy classroom with the Autumn decorations you hung up. Soon, it would be Halloween and costumes would fill the halls. The thought pours memories into your mind, but a particular one sours the enjoyment for you. The memory of planning a matching costume with Harry. Jay and Daisy from The Great Gatbsy, like the English teacher nerds you are. Were.

Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you reach for your water bottle. A groan finds its way past your lips when you pick it up, only to find it's empty. Standing with it in your hands, you cross the room to your door. After a few steps into the hallway, your movements freeze at the sight of his open door. Biting back any hesitations, your hand shakes when it presses against the wood.

Something thrilling washes over you when you find his head bent over his desk. His left hand covered with varying rings props his head up as he marks the page with his favorite red pen. A Micron pen, but only you would know that. Pausing, he fiddles with the tan braces strapping his shoulders clad in a handsome white and gray checkered button-down. Words stick together inside of your mouth, and when you hear the click of your shoe, regret surges inside of you.

“I made a mistake,” you say, testing the waters, although you know they’re stormy. Clearing your throat, you hope the subsequent ones will come out louder and stronger, before he can stop you. Your galloping heart jumps when he lifts his head to look at you, a question painting his face. “I fucked up, and I could never say how sorry I am. I said the wrong things, and I didn’t mean them that way- that’s not the point . . . I miss you, Harry. You’re all I think about, even when I’m thinking of other things, or when I’m teaching. That’s how I know it’s bad, because even though it’s only been a month, it still hurts like it was yesterday,” your voice screeches to a halt. You take one step at a time as he watches you.

A curl tickles his bearded cheek, making you want to tuck it back into place, but you can’t. A crumb from a chip sits on his chin, making you want to brush it away, but you know you can’t. And neither can you whisk away the worry lines forming around his eyes.

“I need you, not just to help me figure out how to use a projector or what a conjunction is again. But I need to tell you about the good parts of my day, and even the bad parts. Because even though we haven’t talked for like a month, my mind still goes to you when something good happens, or even bad. Even my students tease that we should be together, so that says something,” you try your hand at joking, but he turns his attention back to his desk. “Harry, please. I’m sorry,” you plead with him, tears catching the last of your words.

“Sorry doesn’t jus’ make it all go away, bird,” he returns cooly. His head lifts ever so slightly, only to fall. As if he changed his mind a few seconds into a decision.

“I know, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll buy you Bit-O-Honeys for the rest of your life, grade your papers, check your mailbox, or buy the next meals for a month. Anything.” The apologies run off of your lips, but he doesn’t say anything, nor do his actions. An exhale whooshes over your pursed lips as your nails dig into your clenched palms. Defeat covers your body as you turn to leave.

“None o’ dat takes away what ya said,” he announces painfully, the new fabric of his chair squeaking with his movements.

“I know,” you say automatically, a battle waging its way inside of you of whether to look at him. As if his words laced with hurt didn’t already leave you breathless. “So tell me what I have to do.”

“I can’t do dat, bird. Ya should know,” he sighs, clucking his tongue in disbelief.

Your eyes fall shut and your jaw clenches in anger, but the sweet smell of oranges brings you back to the moment. “I’m sorry that I made it seem like it wasn’t worth being with you, because it was, and I realized that even more after . . what happened. I’m sorry that it didn’t seem like I was dedicated enough, but I want to be a- I want to show you that I can be, and I want to be that to you. I’m sorry that I care too much about what other people think, because I only care what you think. It’s ripped me apart lately knowing that you hate me, and how you can’t even be around me, and . . ,” your string of words breaks off, stolen away by your onset of tears. They rumble through your chest with tremors, and the embarrassment brings your hands to your face streaked with them.

The howling of the wind hugs the windows, masking any other sounds. If there were, you can’t hear them, but you do feel something. His fingers wrapping around yours, pulling your hands away from your face.

“Ya gonna stop now befo’ ya make me cry too?” he hums, one corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly. With raised eyebrows, they pose the question to you. Nodding fast with hiccups stealing your words, he kneads your hands between his own. “Are ya gonna shuddup or am I gonna hafta make you?” Harry softly laughs.

“You’re going to have to make me,” you return, stumbling over your sobbed words.

“Good, was hopin’ ya’d say dat.”

Smirking playfully, he steps forward to cup your face in his hands. The callused tips of his fingers make quick work of the tears staining your face, as well as his lips. “Don’t cry, and don’t ever say dat I hate you,” he coos in between pecks to your wet skin singing with his kisses. “Don’t want me pretty birdy t’ cry no mo’.”

“Your bird doesn’t want to cry and be sad, and miss you anymore,” you whimper, trying to hold it all in, but it comes pouring out.

“Baby bird,” he pouts sadly, his rose lips round and extended. His brow presses into a sad line as the same emotion carries his words. “Lemme make it all betta.”

Nodding, you hiccup again as you cover his hands with yours. His subsequent smile warms your insides cold and aching from the long days without him. His lips bring a respite when they touch yours, ending the harsh drought. Kissing him back, you revel in the feeling of his unkempt scratchy beard against your face. Just one more thing you missed. Severing the kiss, you mumble an ‘I’m sorry’ against his chapped lips.

“Shhh, ‘s okay, love. I know ya are,” he tells you before bringing his lips back against yours. They move together slowly, welcoming the return of the other.

Your mouth falls to envelope his bottom lip in between yours, his facial hair feathery against your mouth. Hungrily, you kiss him and savor his familiar taste and smell. Fingers drifting to his hair, they return home to his buttery curls. His lips pull away only to plant another kiss against your mouth. Too soon, he breaks the kiss with a breathy laugh against your lips.

“My goodness, lemme breathe, love.”

“Sorry . . I missed you.”

“Ya sure did, bird. Think I missed ya a li’l more, though,” Harry chuckles as your hands fall from his locks. His thumb steals the last hint of a tear from under your eye. The amusement creasing his features disappears swiftly. “‘m sorry too, y’know. I overreacted, and I shouldn’t have put meself over yer job. It wasn’t fair o’ me t’ do dat. D’ya think I can have those Bit-O-Honeys back, or were ya serious ‘bout buyin’ me a lifetime supply?”

Groaning, you playfully shove at his chest, only to have him wrap you up in his arms. “I guess I was serious.”

“Hmm, ya don’t sound too serious ‘bout it, bird. But that’s okay, I got all tha honey I need right here,” he replies, planting a kiss atop your head nuzzled into his neck, swaying you back and forth. Nodding, you finally let yourself relax for the first time in weeks at the greeting of his sweet smell. One that feels like home to you. “Wait, yer students said we should be togetha? That’s funny, cuz so did mine.”

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kafka-ish · 4 years

Text

crying my heart out for you | b.d.

y/n’s boyfriend, bill denbrough, breaks it off with her but y/n just can’t seem to figure out what she did wrong.

word count: 1,809

warnings/included: inference of sex, angst(?), fem!reader

a/n: loosely based off of this song. also pls enjoy my attempt at an angst fic

“I j-juh-just think we sh-shu-hould take a break. Th-tha-that’s all.” Bill’s stutter had gotten exponentially worse as he tried to voice his thoughts. He never intended for this to happen, but y/n knew that phrase was bound to fall from his lips sometime. Whether it be when they both were headed off to different colleges or right now.

y/n had no difficulty processing the scene taking place in front of her; the situation made to be crystal clear. But before her, stood what was once a daydream. Her daydream. Which was now shattered; the sound of her breaking heart was what brought her back to reality.

The two stood in silence for a while. A certain tenseness persisted between the two and y/n’s brain was still racking up different ways to say ‘i love you’ to a boy who didn’t feel the same.

A tear raced down her cheek and that was the last thing she needed. y/n wanted to stay strong and look just as unbothered as Bill did. But it was no use. A shudder possessed her being. Her heart thumped rapidly despite the fact it felt like it would never work again.

“Hey...” Bill reached out to grab y/n’s hand but she quickly yanked it away. “This is- this is ha-hard fo-for me too, y/n.”

“You like someone else.” y/n’s words were venom. She couldn’t stand to look at the boy who broke her heart anymore. Her eyes drifted to study the soft overgrown grass at her feet, a sorry replacement for Bill.

“Wha-what muh-makes you say th-that?” A look of skepticism washed over Bill’s face. He squinted in disbelief at the girl standing in his presence.

“I see the way you look at her.” y/n tried to swallow the sadness apparent in her voice.

“Who?”

No response.

“Wh-who’s her?” Bill grew impatient at the lack of response but before he could ask again, y/n finally spoke up.

“Beverly Marsh.” y/n sucked in a deep breath then proceeded to erupt in a pool of tears.

“Why wuh-wuh-would... Why would yo-ou assume th-that?” Bill’s pressing questions that somehow felt like an interrogation didn’t help.

“I should go.” y/n’s voice was a whisper.

And at that, she left, not giving the boy she still loved an answer.

Quite frankly, y/n didn’t know how to reply. All she knew was that Bill loved someone and it wasn’t her. And whether Bill knew it or not, y/n did.

The last few days were spent in y/n’s room. Occasionally, she’d leave for a meal or two. Otherwise, she’d stay locked in there like a vampire in its coffin during daylight. Every day a memory of her and Bill replayed in her head. Regret and doubt clouded her mind as the scenes repeated themselves.

Bill’s breath tickled the shell of y/n’s ear and her heart thumped out of her chest at the sensation.

He lay bare in front of her, her the same. y/n admired his toned chest and pale skin. Her fingertips traced the outline of his skin conscientiously. Her mind screamed at her. Go faster, faster, faster. But her motions kept at a slow and steady rate.

“Ar-are you shu-sure you wuh-wuh-want this?” her boyfriend asked. He looked deep into her loving eyes, reading her like a book. His hand reached over to brush a strand of loose hair that fell in the way of her face—he wanted to see every edge of her features.

“Of course.” y/n gazed back at him with the same adoration. “Anything for you.” At these words, Bill enraptured her lips in a romantic kiss, leaving her breathless and craving more.

y/n’s eyes puffed and grew red at the thought of them. How they used to be. She wanted everything to forget him but, at the same time, she couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.

“You can’t keep yourself locked up in here forever,” Ben Hanscom said. The edge of the bed dipped slightly from where he sat. His attempts to comfort his friend were frantic, but he was unsure if she was even listening. “I know what it’s like when the person you love doesn’t feel the same way,” he continued. “It sucks at first..”

y/n clung to every word Ben had to offer. Shallow breaths left her stilled figure as she laid buried under the covers.

“...But you’ll get over it, y/n. I know you. You’re strong. You’re beautiful. You’re-”

y/n cut him off. She shoved the covers away from her figure and pressed an abrupt kiss to his lips. But it wasn’t the same with Ben.

He pulled away fast and stared at her blankly.

“Sorry,” y/n squeaked. Her demeanor was small and she wanted to curl up into a ball until she became one with the air.

“I know you’re hurt, y/n/n.” Ben gave her a sad look which resonated with her. “What do you want?” Sincerity graced each word, but y/n assumed he already knew the answer.

A shaky breath left her lips and all y/n could do was lean into the boy; staining his oversized sweatshirt.

A week had passed when y/n eventually conjured up enough courage to face Bill at school again. Whenever she passed him in the halls, her stare lingered and a bubble formed in her throat.

Whenever she looked his way, Beverly’s fiery red hair also struck her eye line. She always saw the pair together. Bill’s arm either wrapped around her or he’d be caught in a laugh while looking wistfully into her eyes.

Once, their eyes interlocked with each other, but the contact ended just as fast as it happened. y/n could only hope that he still remembered the times they shared together.

y/n waited outside of the Aladdin theatre. Her posture was slightly hunched and she was nervously fiddling with her thumbs. This was her and Bill’s first date. They planned to see some cheesy horror movie that y/n had already forgotten the name of and the girl was downright anxious.

Sweat stuck to her palms which she rubbed off on her floral sundress before checking her watch. 3:42. The movie started at 3:55.

“H-hey!” Bill shouted at her from a few paces away. y/n lifted her head and smiled at the sight laid out in front of her. He was jogging towards her and waving his hand to get her to notice him.

“Hi!” y/n’s voice was filled with the same enthusiasm. The two had only recently confessed their mutual likeness for one another, but Bill made y/n feel as if she were on cloud nine with every simple action.

Bill paid for both of their tickets and offered his arm for her to hold onto before walking into the building. “R-ready?”

Her heart swelled at his gentleness. She leaned closer into him only to be met with the faint scent of his deodorant and the fabric softener that stuck to his flannel.

y/n still knew Bill’s scent just as well as she knew the back of her hand. But while she watched Bill who was now replacing the books in his locker, she could only hope Beverly made him happy. She hoped Beverly gave him the same joy Bill used to bring her.

The draft that enveloped her felt balmy against her chapped skin. y/n’s feet dangled at the quarry’s edge. She hadn’t planned on swimming today; just admiring the shine of the water as it reflected against the sun.

“y/n.” Goosebumps formed at the sound of the voice.

“Hi, Bill.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

“I wuh-wan-ted t-to talk to you.” What could Bill possibly want to say? And how did he know where to find—

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” y/n said, interrupting her own thoughts.

“y/n, puh-please.”

“What could you possibly have to say to me?” y/n was barely able to croak the words out. The sentence sounded pitiful against the warm air surrounding the two.

Bill sat down next to her. Just his presence warmed her body. No matter how hurt she was, she still felt a sense of comfort from him. His shoulder brushed hers and his stare seared her skin. y/n couldn’t bring herself to face him regardless of how much she longed to. She continued to examine the water down below them, not having the audacity to give in to her desires.

“I doh-don’t like Beh-Beverly.”

“And it took you this long to realize?” y/n wondered incredulously. Disbelief crossed her face, contorting it into an expression of anger and confusion. She wanted to get the message across that she was mad. Furious. Heartbroken. But the girl stayed silent and still didn’t let herself face him. “Why did you want us to go on a break in the first place?” The harshness in her words had softened and her shoulders slumped even more.

“To muh-make sure—”

“Make sure of what?” y/n shot back. Annoyance manifested itself into her speech, but Bill’s reply was only calm and considerate.

Bill’s eyes watched her carefully. He placed his fingers under the girl’s chin, forcing her to look at him. y/n could almost dissipate at the sight of his pupils; glossed over and blown with admiration. She relaxed at his touch, the way she used to, and things almost felt like how they once were.

The boy leaned in, placing a tender kiss on her rosy lips. It was light, barely brushing against hers, but y/n could still tell how soft they were even from under his faint touch.

“I love you,” he whispered into her mouth. The murmur was barely audible and if y/n weren’t so close to him she may not have heard the declaration.

y/n was too enthralled at his confession and enamored in him to notice he spoke without a stutter.

She pulled away, looking at Bill with the same fascination and wonder in her eyes just like the night they had explored each other. Her eyes were wide and concentrated on his every move. Her skin glowed under the sun’s sweet rays. And her features seemed to be brighter under Bill’s fixed stare.

“I love you too.” She spoke in a breath just as soft as his when he was the one uttering the words. “I’ll love you until the end of time.”

Bill removed his hand from her face. It found its place holding hers instead, and he rubbed circles against her cool skin that he wanted to feel against his forever. He was sure of it.

#it 2017 #it 2019 #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it x reader #it imagine #it fanfic #it fic #bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough fanfiction #bill denbrough fic #bill denbrough fanfic #bill denbrough angst #bill denbrough fluff

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nightfurmoon · 5 years

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HIGHLIGHTS OF THE VILLAINOUS LIVESTREAM

I’m jumping right into it because there is SO MUCH STUFF. THANK you puppy again for sending my ask to them to draw BH in his car aahhh

- Black Hat’s favorite book is The Necronomicon. - Demencia basically made up an entire fanfiction in her mind about her life with Black Hat and their kids. You can see a drawing of them up there. They have names but Alan didn’t specify. - Alan has ‘profiles’ of all of the characters, including birthdays, their zodiac signs etc. He was asked when Flug’s bday is but he can’t remember it, and asked us to remind him next stream because he’ll have those profiles at hand. - Alan compared Dem’s love for Black Hat to a teenager’s love for a boy band, it’s that type of obsession. - Demencia yanks at 505′s flower a lot and it’s very painful for him, emotionally and physically. However, the flower grows back, and it doesn’t grow with water but with love and affection. - When Alan gets writer’s block, he goes to a room alone and acts the scene he wants to write, with voices and everything, even Flug and Demencia’s. He also uses music to get out of it too. - BH’S ROOM!! Thank you @lazarel-3000 for asking it for me!! <3 I knew long time ago Alan said nobody’s ever entered BH’s room and he confirmed it again! Not even the HatBots are allowed inside. That’s the perspective from the window, and he described it from Flug’s view, you should check it out in the stream itself to get every detail because some things aren’t quite clear and even Flug himself is confused. - Flug in his room when he has free time makes model planes and reads books to himself or to 505. - Black Hat greatest gift to Flug was letting him live, LMAO - 505′s favorite dessert is one he can share with his friends. He really is the kindest thing on Earth. - Black Hat doesn’t sleep, he stands by his window and watches his subordinates cry and suffer. He said this in the stream with much joy. What a lovely bastard. - Black Hat is fun to write when he’s interacting with other characters, but it’s a bit difficult writing him when he’s alone. Nevertheless, Alan said they’re planning to do an episode just with him and he said it’s going well. I’M HYPED FOR THAT!! - Black Hat sang poor unfortunate souls in spanish at 1:20:37. - Demencia is no longer 19, she’s now 20 or 21, so they do age with us. - If Black Hat ever loses 505, Flug and Dem, he says he can replace them easily, but Alan said something he said in the very first conference: they work for him for a reason. And it seems important with how seriously he said it. - ‘What does BH do in his office all day?’ ‘None of your business, but maybe you can join me one of these days…’ Honestly after seeing that dead body in his room, that can’t end well. - Just like I said and I always thought, Black Hat’s clothes are a part of him, but he can take them off as well. - SUPER INTERESTING. They MAYBE do a comic series based off the darker side of Villainous they can’t show on TV. YES PLS. - Black Hat hates 505 but he doesn’t kick him out because he’s a good stress relief toy. - They asked if BH had organs/a heart or not. Alan answered saying that Black Hat took out his own heart from his chest once to scare 505, dropped it afterwards and left. - Flug is a mechanical engineer but never actually got a degree for that, he instead got an evil science degree at BH’s school. - At 1:44:50 Black Hat sang the all star song. Im. - Demencia sees Flug as an older brother and a competition to get BH’s approval. So sorry FlugxDem shippers x’D - Flug actually likes working there, but like everyone, has thoughts about escaping whenever BH gets real mad at him because who would want to deal with that LMAO, like that one discarded short where they all escape on a boat after messing up the manor. - ‘Can BH swim?’ He can walk on the bottom of the ocean, does that count? - If there ever was a live action Villainous movie, Black Hat would be Tom Hiddleston (I literally screamed so hard at this I LOVE LOKI OH MY GOD), for Demencia Kaya Scodelario, for Flug he doesn’t know but someone young and skinny, and for 505 Markiplier. - Black Hat eats gory and nasty stuff but Alan said ‘he doesn’t know’ if BH needs to actually eat, but he does eat a lot. - More people live on Hat Island, they’re villains but Alan won’t tell what they do there. - ‘BH, do you miss ruling the world, like before you helped villains?’ ‘Who says I’m not ruling the world?’ - A theme song is likely to happen in the future. - When you make deals with BH, there is always a catch. - The little phone might have someones soul inside of it, that’s why it moves around. - And to end this, something nice. Miguel and Alan are planning to do charity stuff, they gave the example of a hospital that treats children with cancer, and they said they’ll draw stuff for them and give them art supplies to keep them entertained <3

WOW. YEAH. It was packed! I really hope people read this stuff it took me so long to do dgsd

#villainous #black hat #villanos #cartoon #dr flug #flug #505 #demencia #villainous livestream #livestream #villains #theres star there so #star vs the forces of evil #cartoon network

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hollandsmoose · 5 years

Text

better than sex

A/N: I've been writing on this for ages, holy shit. This is based on that thing Shawn said about performing being better than sex lmao. @particularrose basically wrote this one with all the ideas she gave me tbh so special shout-out to her for being so incredible! So here you go, dudes, here's 6k of some flirty sub!Shawn with a guest star appearance by Niall Horan himself!

part 2 in masterlist

-----------------

Summertime in Los Angeles is positively scorching. When the sun is high in the sky, it can feel a bit like you’re boiling. Niall’s house thankfully has stellar air conditioning, but it doesn’t stop things from getting a little heated at times.

When Niall had suggested that you could spend your summer with him in his Hollywood home, you hadn’t even hesitated to accept the offer. The prospect of spending several weeks alone with one of your best friends was almost too good to be true. And, of course, it was.

What Niall hadn’t told you when he made that offer was that he’d also made that same offer to someone else. Shawn. And it’s not that you don’t like Shawn; it’s more that you perhaps like him a little too much.

You’d met Shawn through Niall, and you’d initially been a smidge smitten with the curly-haired and brown-eyed boy who was nothing if not cute. But the more you got to know him, the more you realized that he wasn’t just cute; he was hot.

It’s even worse now, to be honest. The heat means that Shawn is never wearing too much clothing, and every goddamn time you see him, he’s got some part of his body on display. When you’ll be trying to read a book by the pool, for example, he’ll come out in nothing but swim trunks, his glorious torso on exhibition. The amount of times you’ve caught yourself fantasizing about running your hands over those defined abs or biceps or that back of his is astounding and almost worrying.

You don’t ever want to make it too obvious that you’re staring. Niall is much like a brother to you, you treat each other like siblings, and openly thirsting for one of his best friends seems like a bad idea.

You catch Shawn staring too, though. When you’ll go to take a dip in the pool in nothing more than a bikini, his eyes will linger a few moments too long. When you’ll walk around the house in booty shorts, the looks he gives you when he thinks you’re not looking are definitely indecent.

Almost subconsciously, it develops into a game of who can be the biggest tease, and it’s exhausting. Your only break from it is when Shawn goes off to the studio to write, although he always comes back frustrated, annoyed with the writer’s block he’s going through.

Niall does his best to help him, but there’s not much to do. Niall says it’s just something that happens every once in a while and that Shawn just has to let it pass. Shawn is not one for patience when it comes to things like these, however. He tells you that he’s looking for inspiration, and about two weeks into your stay is when he finds it.

-----------------

It’s a slightly colder day than usual, yet it would be a lie to say that it’s actually cold. LA is never cold. Not to you, anyway. All it really means is that you eat your dinner inside in the kitchen.

Niall has cooked tonight. It's always either you or him who's responsible for food because Shawn is absolutely hopeless in the kitchen. Therefore, he's often the one in charge of loading the dishwasher as compensation.

Niall has made you fettuccine alfredo which is cooked to perfection. He's picked up a couple of bottles of good white wine, a type that has certainly not been cheap. You suppose the price doesn't mean much to someone like him, though. He doesn't exactly lack money.

It doesn't take long before you've finished eating, but you remain at the table, drinking the rest of the wine. And that is when the topic falls to Shawn and his writer's block.

“I just really wanna finish this album, you know?” Shawn says, a little frustrated, and you both give him sympathetic nods. “Like, as soon as I'm done with it, I can start planning tour and shit. And I can't wait to get back on the road,” Niall raises his eyebrows and nods, knowing exactly what Shawn means. “Performing is just… the best fucking thing. Even better than sex.” The noise that leaves you is not one you can hold back.

“Ha!” you exclaim, giggling to yourself. When the two men give you confused looks, you smile. “I'm sorry, it's just…” You lock eyes with Shawn. The wine is making you too brave. “What kinda sex are you having?”

At this, Niall bursts into laughter, a laugh you would recognize anywhere, and he actually slaps the table. You can't help but laugh at your own comment too, but when you take in Shawn's expression, he doesn't seem amused.

He squints a little. “What does that mean?”

You pick up your wine glass. “Well, I'm just thinking that you must be having some pretty boring sex to be able to say that,” This only makes Niall snort out loud, now resting his forehead on the hard surface of the table.

“Maybe I just really like performing,”

“Maybe you do,”

“I do,”

“Great! Then that's settled!”

“I don't have boring sex,” Shawn bites back with a smirk, not willing to let it go. “I just think performing is better.”

“So performing is better than having your face buried in pussy?” you ask, incredulous. Niall is practically dying at this point in the conversation, gasping for air, and Shawn's face burns bright red. “Or being balls deep in one?” The wine's influence has made you too confident, and you know you should probably keep your mouth shut, but it's impossible. “I'll need to show you a good time, then.”

Niall doesn't seem to hear what you said, and you're glad. Niall may not be your real brother, but he is as overprotective as a real brother would be. Shawn, however, does hear.

He chokes on nothing, coughing desperately, and his eyes are wide. Niall gives him a confused look, but he doesn't give an explanation, and neither do you. Thankfully, the older man soon finds himself distracted, and no questions are asked. Not unless you count the silent one that Shawn is asking with his eyes.

-----------------

It's not until a little later that you find yourself alone with Shawn. Niall goes upstairs, to the living room there, after dinner to pick a movie to watch, still quite fond of an old-fashioned DVD, and you stay behind to make some popcorn. Shawn, of course, is in charge of loading the dishwasher.

There's a great deal of tension in the kitchen as your words from before hang in the air, and you watch from behind as he puts the things into the dishwasher. His back muscles flex under his tight T-shirt every time he bends down to put something in, and you have to rub your thighs together. The microwave hums, and the kernels start to pop as you eye Shawn, leaning back against the chair behind you.

“You're watching me,” he states and turns to look at you. Of course, he's smirking. “Like what you see?”

“Hmm, maybe,” you tease, deciding to make this even more fun. Maybe it's dumb to even go along with this. You know you should probably shut him down, but this has been a long time coming, and you will never forgive yourself if you give up this opportunity. “I mean, I've seen better.”

Shawn tilts his head, arrogant smirk still playing on his lips. “You sure?”

You squint as he slowly approaches you. “Are you always this cocky?”

“Only when I have reason to be,”

“And you do now?”

Shawn comes to a stop in front of you, right as the microwave beeps. You're frozen to the ground, unwilling and unable to move. Your bodies are maybe a bit too close, and it's actually hard to breathe, every breath of yours shaky and laboured.

“Yes,” he confesses, his fingers stroking your upper arm. “‘Cause you think I'm hot.” Busted. You can’t let him win, though. Resting your hand on his hard chest, you smile.

“Well, how cocky am I allowed to be, then?” you retort, meeting his confused eyes. “‘Cause you think I’m hot too,” When Shawn blushes profusely, confirming your suspicions, your smile just grows even wider. “Thought as much.”

He gulps and bites his lip. “Y/N, I-” He doesn’t get to say more.

“You guys ready?” Niall says, walking into the kitchen, and you and Shawn jump away from each other, hoping to get as much distance between you as possible. Your heart starts to race with the thoughts of what Niall will say, but he is too busy staring at his phone that he thankfully doesn’t take much notice of the situation unfolding in front of him. “I picked a movie. I think you’ll like it.”

And then Niall finally looks up, but you and Shawn are far apart, looking perfectly decent. There’s no reason to suspect a thing.

-----------------

It’s hard to focus on the movie when you’re sat right next to Shawn who keeps glancing your way, meeting your eyes with sin in his own. Upstairs, it’s slightly colder, and therefore you’ve picked up a few blankets, something you’re very grateful for.

Because when your hand purposefully finds its way onto Shawn’s thigh, the blankets over your bottom halves manage to cover it up. There’s no covering up the surprised gasp that leaves his mouth, but when Niall looks at him questioningly, he just excuses it as a cough.

“You’ve been coughing a lot tonight,” Niall asks, and the worry he feels for his friend is more than clear. It almost makes you feel a little bad, but when Shawn blushes anew, you can’t help but feel just a bit pleased with yourself. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“No, no,” Shawn protests, and as your fingers trace circles into his skin, pushing a little at the hem of his gym shorts, the flush on his cheeks only deepens into a dark red. He gulps. “Just had to cough, that’s all.” And with that, Niall’s attention goes back to the TV.

Shawn’s shallow breaths are a good indicator of the effect you have on him. You revel in how his eyes screw shut every time you venture a little too close to where he really needs your touch, his hand on yours urging you to continue. You play with the idea of actually giving him what he wants and putting an end to your teasing, but you’re having too much fun to stop, and with Niall right next to you, it doesn’t seem like the best idea. That’s a decision you come to regret, though. Because when you pull your hand away with a confident, shit-eating grin, Shawn is quick to get revenge.

The first thing you feel is the tips of his fingers tracing circles on the side of your thigh, and you know exactly where this is going. Payback time. You don’t dare to take a look at him, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen in front of you.

A shaky breath leaves you when his hand moves to rest on the top of your thigh, and when Shawn squeezes your skin ever so slightly, you have to bite your lip to keep a whimper from escaping. You hear the small chuckle that comes from him. He knows what he’s doing to you.

A heat is definitely pooling low in your stomach. A part of you is praying for him to give you some relief, but you know it’s not likely - not after your teasing. From your calculations, you figure that there is still a whole hour of the movie left, and you sigh. It’s gonna be a long hour.

The movie ends just before midnight, and you can honestly say that you’ve only understood about 10% of it. You and Shawn have not been playing nice, and you’re terribly worried for your underwear, surely soaked by now.

“Great movie, huh?” Niall says as he gets up to take it out of the DVD player. “What did you think?”

“Uh, yeah, it was…” you stutter, forcing a smile, meeting his eyes. “It was good.”

Niall tilts his head, squinting. “You okay, sweetie? You just seem a little… off,”

You gulp. “Just tired, that’s all,”

“Yeah, maybe we should head to bed,” Shawn suggests, his tone even more suggestive. Oh God, yes. No matter what happens now, you need to be in private. “I’m pretty tired too.” Niall agrees, and so do you.

You’re not tired in the slightest, though. You’re quite the opposite. You and Shawn’s little game has left you on the edge, and you’re practically bustling with energy. It’s endlessly funny to watch Shawn as he gets up, leaving the cover of the blankets, and tries to conceal the tent in his shorts. Niall, thank God, remains oblivious.

Soon, you’re all walking to your rooms, and you bid each other goodnight. Niall’s master bedroom is in one end of the house, whereas the rooms you and Shawn are occupying are on the same hallway in the other end. The distance between you and Shawn’s rooms and then Niall’s makes you feel a little safer.

Niall wouldn’t notice. It’s this thought that goes through your mind when you stand in the doorway to your room, and you turn to look at Shawn in the doorway of his. There’s a look in his eyes that is hard to decipher, and, for a moment, you consider asking what it means, but then there’s a noise from the living room, distracting you.

“Sorry, guys,” Niall says, chuckling to himself, and he picks something up from the coffee table. “Forgot my phone.”

When Niall has gone back to his room, you decide to do the same. Biting your lip, you give Shawn a look too. You both linger in your doorways for a few moments before you enter your rooms.

-----------------

Just about an hour has passed since you started getting ready for bed, and you're wiggling around on your mattress, trying to get comfortable, but you know very well that, even if you wanted to sleep, it wouldn't be possible.

There's a distinct ache between your thighs, and it needs relief. Your fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear. Shawn hasn't tried to get in contact, and you're almost at your breaking point. You need relief.

But right when you're about to dip your hand under the elastic, a thought crosses your mind. What if Shawn's doing this right now too? It's enough to make you clench involuntarily, only furthering the ache. Making a hasty decision, you throw the covers off and plant your feet on the floor. You're going to walk down the little hallway and knock on his door. Damn the consequences.

You've only just exited your room and shut your door when you hear another door open. Just down the hallway, Shawn emerges from his room, and then your eyes meet.

Whatever confidence you had before has left you. Had it stayed, you would have marched right up to him and kissed those pretty lips of his, but it's different now. None of you say anything, but, almost subconsciously, you both start to approach each other. It's slow - agonizingly slow, to be honest, but you do end up within touching distance.

“Can't sleep?” Shawn asks in a whisper, and there's a certain breathlessness to his voice that tells you all you need to know. When you shake your head, he swallows. “Me neither.”

The ache you're experiencing is not helped by the sight of his bare torso, barely visible in the dimly lit hallway. It's visible enough to have you rubbing your thighs together. He catches the movement, and you're expecting a smirk, but what you get from him is more like a whimper.

Even Shawn looks surprised by the sound. It’s hard to see much, the only light coming from your room, but you can see how his cheeks redden. Without a word, you lift your hand to rest on his chest, feeling the soft patch of hair there. He sucks in a sharp breath at your touch.

“Do you want this?” you whisper, establishing eye contact, and you pray that he’s down for this because you need him, and you might just cry if he turns you down. “Do you want me?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Shawn answers, the words rushing out from his mouth. “I want you so bad.”

You give him a coy look. “Then take me,”

Shawn doesn’t hesitate. He pushes his mouth on yours with such passion that you actually stumble back, but he has lightning reflexes and places a strong hand on your back to keep you from falling. The hand manages to press your bodies flush together, no space left between them.

His other hand cups your cheek, a delicate touch compared to how you're kissing. You're unsure of what to do with your hands at first, but they end up gripping his shoulders, trying to get him impossibly closer. It's not that you can't already feel almost every bit of him, though. There is an unmistakable hardness pressing against you, and if you weren't in a fucking hallway, you would have dropped to your knees by now.

Shawn doesn't seem to care much about the whole hallway thing nor about the fact that Niall could walk out and see the two of you at any time. Instead of leading you to one of your rooms and to privacy, he guides you backwards until your back thuds against the wall. The whine is impossible for you to keep in when he detaches his lips from yours.

Moving his hands to under your ass, Shawn squeezes a little. “Jump,”

You eye him skeptically, but he seems confident in his ability to carry you, and you're confident in his confidence. So you jump.

You wrap your legs around him, but he holds you up as if you're as light as a feather. Shawn doesn't go back to your lips, yet you don't complain. Because shortly after, his mouth is on your neck, kissing and licking - no biting or sucking, though. You would have no chance of hiding the hickey that that would leave behind. Your fingers have tangled themselves into Shawn’s curls, and when you pull on them, impatient, he gets the clue and tears himself away from your skin. Instead of giving you what you want and kissing you, he shakes his head slightly and smiles.

“Oh god,” Shawn says, still quiet. “Niall’s gonna kill me.”

Sighing, you roll your eyes. “Don’t mention Niall right now,” It’s bit of a mood killer, really.

Shawn raises his eyebrows, his expression undeniably cocky. “Giving me orders now, baby?” That gives you an idea.

“Yes,” you answer with no hesitation, seizing control. “Yes, I am,” You tug on his curls with more force than before, and he hisses. The atmosphere changes. You can feel it. The ball is in your court now. “Your room.”

Shawn is more than pliant. He carries you, only putting you down when you’re inside his room. He leaves you for a moment to close and lock the door, but then he’s back. It is different now, however. He doesn’t reach for you or try to kiss you; he awaits your command. So when you tell him to lie down on the bed, he does it in an instant.

He’s left the lamp on the nightstand on, so you’re able to see much better than in the hallway. You can so clearly see his flushed cheeks, his toned abs and his brown eyes, darker than usual. You can so clearly see the way his lips part when you crawl onto the mattress and between his legs, sitting back on your knees.

“What do you want, Shawn?” you ask as you run a finger up his thigh, and your tone is deceitfully sweet and innocent. You’re fully expecting him to beg for your mouth or hands around him, but he takes you by surprise - and not in a bad way.

“I wanna taste you,” he tells you, voice shaky and absolutely wrecked. “Want you to sit on my face.” Fuck. You have to fight to keep a whimper from leaving your mouth. How can you possibly say no to that request? It takes a fair bit of manoeuvring, but you manage to pull off your teeny-tiny, exposing shorts and your underwear, leaving you in nothing else than your camisole. You tug his grey sweatshorts off, and his already prominent bulge just becomes even more prominent when he’s just in his boxers. Unconsciously, you lick your lips.

You crawl up his body, but you don’t waste any time, going straight for his face. Settling over his face, you shiver when his hands come up to grab ahold of your thighs. Shawn stares up at you, wanting reassurance that he’s allowed to touch you, and you nod. In fact, you might just die if he doesn’t touch you. That may be an exaggeration, but it doesn’t feel that way to you.

You pull your camisole over your head, and that leaves you naked. Shawn’s eyes widen, and you don’t even think he’s aware that he’s moving his hands until they’re cupping your breasts. You don’t tell him off for not asking for permission, though. You’re far too consumed by the fire that his touch ignites inside you. When his thumbs brush against your nipples, you emit a keen noise that you can’t even believe comes from your own mouth.

Shawn groans beneath you, and when you glance down, you see the conflict in him. His eyes flicker from where his hands are to your dripping heat. You know he wants to please you, but it seems he can’t decide on where to start. So you decide for him.

You move his left hand down, back to the back of your thigh where he grips your flesh, bringing you closer to where he needs you. When you lock eyes, it’s almost overwhelming. There’s a hunger in them, yet he still waits for affirmation that he can go on. Such a good boy. You nod.

And then his mouth is on you. You moan, and Shawn groans. There’s a relief in it for both of you. His tongue runs up your slit, spreading you out so he has better access to all of you. You desperately need something to hold on to so you grab the headboard of the bed. His fingers pinch your nipple, just as his tongue touches your clit for the first time, and you gasp, rocking your hips against his mouth.

The noise that leaves him can’t be described as anything else than a growl, and the vibrations from it are utterly thrilling. Shawn’s other hand comes down and grips your other thigh, and he pulls you even closer, even further down onto his face. You’re almost worried that you’re drowning him, but, to be fair, he seems quite happy to drown.

Everything you’ve dreamed of for these last two weeks is coming true. Shawn wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. Instinctively, one of your hands reaches down and goes into his hair, running through it. He almost moves into your hand, almost like he’s seeking your touch. He really is fucked for you.

“So good for me,” you purr. “So good.” The praise seems to please him; it seems to encourage him further. His tongue definitely becomes a little more forceful and pushes down on your clit with even more pressure than before. The pleasure shoots through your body, and the fire within only intensifies.

Several hours of teasing has left you sensitive, and when his lips close around your clit again, you’re made aware of just how close you really are. God, what is this boy doing to me? Shawn doesn’t seem to have a particular method to his actions; he just eats you out like he’s been starving, lips and tongue everywhere, licking and sucking. It’s kind of rushed, but oh dear God, is it good. And, besides, you really don’t need him to go slow.

His hands travel to your hips, and you understand his hint when he pushes you a little away from him. He comes up for air, and it’s such a sight to behold when you look down at him. The area around his mouth is absolutely covered in your juices, glistening in the light from the bedside lamp.

“You taste so good, baby,” Shawn pants, placing a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. “So sweet,” Your hand strokes his curls, all tousled and unruly from your treatment. “Wanna make you cum.”

You can’t resist a smirk. “Make me, then,”

Shawn curses under his breath, and then he can’t hold himself back anymore. Hands still on your hips, he begins to guide you back and forth, effectively making you grind against his tongue, making you ride his face. You have to hold back the cries that are so close to leaving your lips, knowing very well that you can’t be too loud.

You’re so close, and Shawn is doing his very best to please you, to push you over the edge. It’s like he keeps trying to pull you closer, although he’s already buried in you. He’s groaning and moaning against your pussy, clearly finding some kind of pleasure in this too. You’re trembling and shivering with every touch of his tongue, and you’re panting, mumbling barely coherent encouragements. You can feel it building inside you, that release you’ve been aching for. It builds and builds and builds, right until you can feel yourself right there at the edge of the cliff. And then you dive in.

There are no words to describe the feeling that courses through your body when your orgasm hits you. Words like mind-blowing, sensational and extreme all come to mind, but they’re simply not enough. You honestly have to hold back your noises because you know they would be far too loud. You can’t keep in a gasp of his name, though.

Shawn leads you through your release, slowing down gradually so you can come down. His hands gently stroke your skin in an attempt to calm you down. You’re still catching your breath when you start to move down his body, settling on his thighs, your own thighs still shaking with the aftershocks.

“Good boy,” you praise, and you catch how his cock twitches in the confinement of his boxers where his precum has created a small wet spot as well. “Such a good boy. All for me,”

He nods desperately. “All for you,”

Shawn seems to get the hint when you crawl up a little further up, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. When you press your lips to his again, you’re still very much able to taste yourself. You’re not complaining, though. You deepen the kiss, your tongues meeting, and the taste of you is so strong on his that you actually moan into his mouth.

You don’t even mean to do it, but your hips grind down against his, and he moans right back. The friction is almost too much to bear for your sensitive sex, yet you need to feel it again. You grind against his clothed cock, feeling how hard it is for you.

Shawn whines when you draw away from his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth before you let go completely. He doesn’t whine when you begin placing kisses down his neck and move further down, your kisses following. You pause for a few moments when you reach his abs, and then you lean in and lick a stripe up his six-pack. His muscles contract underneath your touch, and you enjoy how he makes this strangled noise in response, obviously having tried to muffle himself.

Upon reaching the waistband of his boxers with your kisses, you smirk. “Such a good boy deserves a reward, don’t you think?” He doesn’t answer, but you’re not surprised. He probably doesn’t want to be presumptuous. When you snap the elastic waistband against the skin of his stomach, he lets out a startled moan, and then he seems to understand what you’re asking him to do.

“Please, baby,” Shawn begs. “Please, just… please.”

Accepting his plead, you crawl back until you reach the end of the mattress, You keep eye contact as you move down to the foot of the bed and down to the floor, sinking to your knees. You yank on his one leg the tiniest bit, but he understands. Soon after, he’s wiggled down to where you want him, and Shawn sits up. He clearly wants to watch. He helps you to remove his boxers, and your mouth actually fucking salivates at the sight of his cock springing free. You don’t often call things perfect, but his cock certainly is. The perfect size, the perfect color, the perfect everything.

Shawn quite eagerly kicks off his underwear, desperate to be rid of them. He stares down at you, and you stare up at him. He’s leaking from the tip quite a lot, but that only makes your job easier. You don’t even have to spit on him or in your hand; he’s already lubricated himself enough. You maintain eye contact when you wrap your hand around him, and it’s almost amusing to watch how his eyes flutter, fighting the urge to close.

You tsk-tsk. “Keep your eyes on me, Shawn,”

It’s a challenge, and you’re aware. You want to challenge him. You run your thumb over his tip, spreading the precum over the length of him. He inhales sharply at your touch, and it makes you smile. You like knowing that you have an effect on him. His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, fingers digging into it.

“Y/N,” Shawn says, voice shaky. “I’m not-” He’s interrupted by a hiss from his own mouth when you touch his tip again. “Not gonna last long.” You appreciate the honesty, although you’re not surprised in the slightest. You’ve practically been edging him for hours now.

You pump a few times, revelling in his responses, before you lean in and press a kiss to his tip. His chest is heaving, his lip between his teeth, and he’s visibly struggling to hold back his noises. You kiss down to the base of him, and you take a second to consider what to do next.

You’re in a mood to make him suffer a little. And when you lick from base to tip, he definitely suffers. He whimpers, his knuckles turning white. You make sure to keep eye contact the first time you wrap your lips around his cock. He lets out this gasp in response, high-pitched and a bit too loud, and it only makes you want to go further. You keep your hand wrapped around him, and when you start to bob your head, your hand follows the rhythm.

The sounds of your movements are absolutely obscene, and you suspect it all looks just as obscene. His cock is warm and heavy on your tongue, his precum a bit salty. Sucking dick is usually not something you enjoy, but Shawn makes it more than enjoyable. His reactions are encouraging, gasps and moans and whimpers all revealing just how good you’re making him feel.

You can see how he struggles not to lift his hips and thrust into the warmth of your mouth. Had this been a different situation, you might’ve let him fuck your face, but you’re in control now. You want to take this at your pace.

Not that you have any intention of going slow, to be honest. You even let one hand go down to his balls, making sure to stimulate him even further. It takes Shawn by surprise, though. He loses control for just a moment, and his hips move up. The accusatory look you give him when you pull out for air has him apologizing in an instant, and you soon return to business as normal.

You become sloppier towards the end, something that he seems to like. He screws his eyes shut, but you don’t bother to chastise him because you know he’s getting to where you want him to be, and you can’t blame him for not being able to control his body right now. The bobs of your head begin to quicken, your saliva coating him thoroughly, and you just know he’s approaching his release. His cock is twitchy, his breathing is unbelievably unsteady, and the words that leave him are unintelligible, although you can hear that he’s trying to say something.

Shawn does manage to get something out. “Gonna… gonna cum,”

His warning is a nice gesture; it gives you time to pull off him. But you don’t. He’s been so good for you, and he deserves a treat. You only pull away the tiniest bit, resting his tip on your tongue, while your hand keeps pumping what used to be in your mouth. His one hand finally lets go of the mattress to cup the side of your face, and it’s an oddly cute thing to do.

When Shawn cums, he almost shouts out a curse, and it’s far too loud, but you really don’t care. You take everything he gives you, and it’s only when he jerks a little away from you that you let him go. He watches you swallow, and the sight seems to be a smidge overwhelming. He groans and falls back against the bed, covering his face with his hands, his chest heaving and all flushed. Shawn only removes his hands when you’ve crawled up, and you’re face-to-face again.

“Y/N, I… fuck,” he pants. “That was fucking insane, holy shit,” You giggle, stroking a few curls away from his sweaty forehead. “C’mere.” He brings you closer, and his lips find yours. To be honest, you’re kinda impressed. He definitely isn’t too touchy when it comes to tasting himself.

“So…” you begin when he releases you again. “Is performing still better than sex?” He raises his eyebrows, giving you a shit-eating grin.

“Hmm, yes,” Shawn answers and laughs, and you scoff as if truly offended. You know he’s playing with you. “Well, I didn’t get to hear you scream for me,” He smirks. “And when I perform, I usually have thousands of girls screaming for me.”

You roll your eyes. “Honestly? I could have screamed. But Niall would’ve heard, and I have the feeling I’d have to attend your funeral, then,”

Shawn playfully shrugs. “Would’ve been worth it,”

“Speaking of Niall, though,” you start, getting off the bed. “It’s been fun, but I should be going back to my room. Can’t be found with you in the morning, you know?” There’s a sort of sadness to Shawn when he nods and watches you get your clothes back on. “Goodnight, baby boy.”

-----------------

The next morning, you wake up with a grin on your lips. Thinking about what happened last night almost makes you ache again. You get up, and while you’re getting ready, the grin falls off your face. You can’t be sure what it’s gonna be like to see Shawn again. You don’t know what he’ll say. You can’t believe you even care, but you do.

So it’s with a slightly erratic heartbeat that you enter the kitchen a little later, but to your surprise, the only person you find there is Niall, cooking breakfast.

“Morning!” he greets and offers a smile. “Sleep well?” You feel the heat travelling to your cheeks at his question. If only you knew.

“Uh, yeah… yeah, I did,” you answer, and then you make a bit of a show of looking around the room. “Where’s Shawn?”

“Oh, he left for the studio about an hour ago,”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Niall replies and shrugs. “Said he found some inspiration during the night,” Oh god. “Dunno what he meant, but good for him. He’s been looking for it for quite a while.”

You know exactly what he meant.

-----------------

@sauveteen @peachnpomegranate @yellowitsmendes @me-a-hopeless-romantic @couple100miles @rishlo @bluerroses @nervousroses @shavvnmcndcs @crxssourbones @ashwarren32

#mine #text #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes smut #did i include a reference to one of my fave movies in this??#yes... yes i did

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blazehedgehog · 4 years

Note

Now that it's all been posted, any thoughts on the Metroid fan movie concept that was uploaded to SomeCallMeJohnny's channel?

I haven’t watched part 3 yet.

There’s a reason I haven’t watched part 3 yet, and I don’t want to sound overly rude or harsh. I do think a lot of talent went in to writing and recording, and the artwork is pretty nice.

But I’ve also talked about before about things like... so, aliens, right. I personally like the idea that Ridley is this 20 foot tall space monster. He doesn’t wear clothes, we never see him sit in a chair, he can’t fit through our doors. He screeches and roars and growls like an animal. But underneath all of that is an very intelligent being, one who can operate interstellar craft. When he roars, he’s speaking a language. He’s giving commands to subordinates. But he’s nothing like a human. He’s an alien, and I like my aliens to feel truly otherworldly.

Ridley in this fan movie concept speaks human english.

So, already, I feel like it was at a big disadvantage with me personally. The actor playing Ridley does a good job, but the moment I heard Ridley saying earth words I was hit by a wash of disappointment. And it continues to swim up stream because the whole movie is effectively trying to adapt the official Metroid Manga and even parts of Other M. It does put its own spin on things to try and make it more palatable, mind you, and parts of it I do genuinely enjoy.

Like, I appreciate it spells out in no certain terms that Samus hasn’t just lost one family, she’s lost two, and is in danger of possibly losing a third surrogate family, and that’s kind of messing her up emotionally. It’s about her origin story, and why she's such a loner. I also like how they establish Mother Brain.

But where the movie loses me is in how much it jumps around in time, especially in Act 2. I don’t necessarily know if it’s confusing per-say, but does feel really disjointed. Samus is a kid, then it’s seven years later, then it’s two years earlier, then it’s back to seven years later, then it’s one year earlier, etc. Back and forth, back and forth, all these little vignettes told semi-out of order. It’s messy and a lot of it doesn’t feel like Metroid, because it’s all about Samus as a kid, or in the military, or whatever, and not enough of her in the power suit doing Metroid stuff.

I feel like this is an easy trap to fall in to. You see this lore and you think, “I have to fit all of it in.” But lately I’ve been thinking a lot about, like... book adaptations, and things, right.

So let’s take Jurassic Park for example, because that’s one of the few things where I’ve both read the book and seen the movie. If you did a 1:1 adaptation of the novel, Jurassic Park would probably be a 5-10 hour movie. So you have to cut a lot of stuff out -- most stuff, I’d argue. And true enough, at two hours, the movie is a very different experience compared to the book. So how does that work?

If I was doing it, I would identify the core theme of the story, and then pick out two or three iconic scenes. Then, write a completely new story around that theme, sticking to a simplified version of the story’s general idea, while touching on those iconic scenes.

Let’s consider instead “Into the Spider-verse”. This is based on the comic book series of the same name, but those comics span over a dozen issues of multiple different Spider-man books. So they focused on the themes (dimensions are crossing and everyone is Spider-man) and wrote a new story around that.

So what are the themes of Metroid, then? Isolation, loneliness, and feeling powerless at first but gaining knowledge and strength over time.

So we open on Samus touching down on an unknown alien world. She’s already a bounty hunter, and she’s on this planet because she’s tracking a threat. This planet once housed a civilization, but now it’s nothing more than abandoned, destroyed ruins, and in the absence of that civilization, it’s being reclaimed by the bizarre alien life at home on this world.

The whole movie is about the mystery of why Samus is here. She has a connection to this place, and the threat she’s tracking.

We see her memories. I know I just railed against the fan concept for having lots of flashbacks, but to me, it was more about their frequency and length. The first third of that movie is effectively a long flashback, and even once it jumps to present day, it keeps jumping back to various other points in Samus’s life every few minutes. That’s what made it feel like a mess. It never gives you a chance to settle in to a “present day.”

Flashbacks can be an important storytelling tool, but I think establishing what’s current and then showing a few key memories is what works best. The movie is a mystery, and we’re peeling away layers over time. We’re with Samus, seeing what she sees as she looks over the planet. We see a man and a woman killed by something unseen as armored aliens approach her. Later, we see the Chozo and their warmth towards Samus. This is their planet, where they raised Samus, and taught her about their research in to the Metroids.

As she becomes enveloped in her memories of this place, we see what she’s tracking. It’s a giant space dragon. As far as the audience ever sees, it’s just a big scary monster. Samus is chasing an animal, like hunting a bear or a tiger. But every now and then, we get a hint of something more.

Samus also spends her time in the movie just dealing with alien life on this planet. Some of it is friendly, but others are very hostile. The space dragon is always the primary threat, but there are other creatures here that give Samus trouble. Maybe she befriends something, treats it like a pet, and through that we see maybe some aliens have intelligence and others do not. It also gives her someone to talk to. But again: the alien does not speak her language.

The last flashback, in the film’s final act, is the Chozo entrusting the power suit (the armor she saw as a child) to Samus as they are slain by the same space dragon she’s been hunting for the whole movie. It’s Ridley. It’s here we learn that Ridley is more than just a monster -- he’s intelligent. He commands space pirates to raze the planet and take the Chozo’s captive Metroid. This is a big reveal for the audience. Samus is sent away in the same ship we see land at the start of the movie, her ship. As the Chozo die, we see almost a flashback within a flashback, as we finally learn that the man and woman in the first flashback were her parents, and they were also slain by Ridley and his forces. It all ties together.

This anger fuels Samus in her final encounter with Ridley. He’s back on this planet because he missed something about the Chozo’s Metroid research. Despite only stealing one Metroid, Ridley somehow has multiple now, and he sics them on Samus. Wounded from their fight, a bleeding Samus corners Ridley as he tries to escape in his ship and uses a weapon she discovered earlier in the movie (a super missile pack) to damage his ship, destroy his Metroids, and seemingly kill him. She limps back to her ship and has automated medical systems attend to her wounds as she leaves.

The final stinger is Ridley still being alive, and his shadow falling upon the Chozo central computer, codenamed “Mother Brain.”

That’s what I’d do.

#questions #metroid #movie #fan movie concept #nintendo #ideas #writing #long posts #melcodriggs

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thewitchandtheassassin · 5 years

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Coming for You (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Prompt: Hey mate, could you do one based on Senorita by Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello, with Wanda. Thanks and I love your stories~

Words: 1343

Warnings: Uhhh, none? Maybe?

A/N: This isn’t probably what was imagined, but I think it turned out alright. I’m sorry I’ve been gone for a little while. Got a new job and all, but yeah.

-X-

Lips pressed together, Wanda melted into you as your fingers dug into her hips. Sweat was dripping down your face, but neither of you minded. Working out together always left you two in such a position. Maybe it was the adrenaline; maybe it was because you were working so closely together. Either way, it ended with a passionate embrace you tried explaining away.

Despite it all, you swore you were “just friends”.

Wanda often wondered if all your friends knew the way you tasted – or if she was a special friend.

Your hands wandered under her tank top and your nails bit into the soft flesh of her waist, earning a low moan. She was bewitched by the way your tongue moved against hers, sinking into the sensations you offered freely. She loved these little moments, when you were hers and she was yours. They didn’t last long but they meant the most.

She wished she could say she didn’t need this – didn’t need you – but that would be a lie. There was something about you that drove away all thoughts of self-preservation. She would give in to you every time you came knocking.

You caught her lip between your teeth and nipped gently, smirking when she leaned heavily against you. Kissing you was such a deadly thing. It had to be terrible for her health, the way you managed to steal the breath from her lungs and how you made her brain swim, trapped amid lust and blooming love. She prayed that she wouldn’t fall for you – knew how bad of an idea that would be – but she had a feeling it would happen.

Friendships weren’t supposed to feel like this.

Pulling back, you cupped Wanda’s cheek and stared into her striking green eyes. You couldn’t admit it out loud, caught up in your “we’re just friends” mantra, but you were falling in love with her. She was special to you – and by God, this meant absolutely everything to you.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, your name sounding so lovely wrapped up in her thick accent.

You smiled, pecking her lips before stepping back. Breaking the connection was hard but being so close to her was driving you wild. All you could smell was the sweetness clinging to her hair, the taste of her mouth sticking to yours.

If you dared to lick your lips, you knew you’d taste her cherry chapstick…

Refusing to let go, Wanda reached out and grabbed your hand, marveling at how it fit in hers.

“I need to go change,” you laughed, squeezing Wanda’s fingers. “Movie night starts in like an hour and if I’m late, the others will never let me live it down.”

Wanda bit her lip, staring at your linked hands. “Maybe we could skip tonight? I’m sure they would understand…”

You shook your head, a million thoughts racing through your mind. If you did that, then the others would know the truth – and the truth could ruin everything. If you said there was nothing more between you, then no one could take it away.

“We should get ready,” you said, clearing your throat uncomfortably. Guilt welled up inside you at the sight of Wanda’s drooping shoulders and pained expression, but you were a coward. You couldn’t say all the things you wanted to.

This was fragile enough as it was.

-X-

“I don’t understand you,” Natasha chastised as you stood at the microwave, a bag of uncooked popcorn in your grasp.

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you glanced at the other woman, silently imploring for an explanation. Her arms were crossed, disapproval marring her features as she eyed you. You were bewildered; what had you done now?

“What are you talking about?” you asked when no explanation was offered.

“Wanda,” she replied knowingly, her gaze dark as she dared you to deny whatever was going on.

You looked away, shaking your head. “What about Wanda? We’re just friends…”

Natasha snorted disbelievingly. “Riiiiiight.”

“We are,” you insisted, throwing the bag of popcorn into the microwave before violently pressing the timer.

Sighing, Natasha strolled over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “(Y/N), be honest with yourself. You two have never been just friends. The first night you met her, before you even knew her name, there was a connection. We could all see it.”

You swallowed drily; you hated how observant Natasha could be. “What do you want me to say, Nat?”

“Just tell me the truth.”

Normally heart-to-hearts weren’t Natasha’s strong point, but she had a soft spot for you and she could see you struggling. It was obvious that you had feelings for the Scarlet Witch, you just needed to admit it.

“I-”

Whatever you were going to say was cut off by Tony walking into the room, immediately ending the conversation. You slipped out of Natasha’s grip and hurriedly grabbed a bowl for the popcorn before yanking it out of the microwave. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t fully cooked; you’d learn to live with it if it meant you didn’t have to continue on with this.

Natasha glared at the billionaire playboy, irritated that he’d ruined what was bound to be an admittance.

“What?” Tony demanded, watching you leave the room in a hurry. “What’d I do?”

-X-

Movie night came and went, taking with it all of your trepidations. The more you thought about what Natasha was prompting, the less you feared it. You cared about Wanda – that much was certain – and you were fairly positive she cared about you too.

So why were you so afraid?

You found yourself standing outside Wanda’s room, hand perched to knock on the door. You didn’t know what you were going to say, but you needed to say something.

Anything.

It was time for you to grow up and acknowledge your feelings, even if the idea of that terrified you. This was worth it; she was worth it.

The minute your hand touched the smooth metal, a soft, “Come in,” echoed out into the hall. Nervously adjusting your shirt, you opened the door and stepped inside, letting it click closed behind you.

Wanda peered over you from her spot on the bed, a warm smile tugging at her lips. “(Y/N).” She set her book down and rose, walking over to you. “Is everything okay, malysh?”

Malysh. It was a word you’d heard a few times before but had never asked about. You knew it was a pet name, but a piece of you had worried that it would do irreparable damage to your relationship if you asked what it meant.

You couldn’t help yourself. Surging forward, you pressed your lips to hers, pulling her as close as possible. Her arms instinctively came to encircle your neck, a squeak of surprise falling from her lips. She didn’t really know what was going on, but this time everything felt different.

“I love it when you call me malysh,” you admitted, your forehead against hers. “I don’t know what it means, but it’s nice.”

Wanda gazed at you with wide eyes, waiting to see if there was more to your quiet confession.

“I wish I could pretend I don’t need you,” you continued on, “But every touch is…” you trailed off, unsure how to finish. “I mean, I should be running, but you keep me coming for you and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to leave. Everything between us has always meant something, even if I say we’re just friends. We aren’t. We never were.”

Tears pricked in the corners of Wanda’s eyes, but her smile was beaming. “Really?”

You nodded, hesitantly brushing your lips over Wanda’s. “I’d really like to take you out sometime.”

Nodding vigorously, Wanda repeatedly pecked your lips before you brought her into a deeper embrace, keeping your mouths pressed together in a way that made you both weak in the knees. All along you were coming for her, even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it.

But admitting it might just be the best thing you’d ever done.

#wanda maximoff #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #You #reader #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader

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avengersthingsithink · 5 years

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Steve Rogers x Teen!Stark!reader Happy Birthday Cap

Requested, based on this imagine. This is a platonic fic bc reader is underage okay bye luv u btw this fic is late ik sorry and i have no facts in here lol please enjoy oh and I can’t write and this fic is long sorry :)

I was chilling on the couch enjoying my summer by watching Friends, when Steve walked in, plopping on the chair beside me sighing. “What’s up Cap?” I asked, muting the TV.

“Nothing.” he replied, but his somber expression said otherwise. “Come one you look like you just punched a dog, what’s wrong?” he looked up from the floor. He looked at me for a second before looking back down. “It’s stupid.”

I scoffed. “Steve, If something or someone made you upset it is not stupid to me, now spill.” He looked at me. “Please?” He sighed, before crossing his arms. “There was this candy shop Buck and I used to go to growing up, it was one of those one’s that you see in those movies about the 30′s,” I nodded. “ It’s just an abandoned building now, but I found out that they’re tearing it down for a hotel.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry Steve.” I said giving him a hug. “It’s okay, just a part of getting old I guess.” he laughed, but I knew it was forced. “I could get my dad to buy the land if you want? We could open a cool little shop.” He laughed again, a real one this time. “No it’s fine. Thank you for listening though, and not thinking it was stupid.” “Of course it’s not stupid! It’s from your childhood!”

He patted my head before standing up. “Why is Friends muted?” Sam asked walking into the room. “Started talking about whoop whoop and Steve got uncomfortable.” I said standing up. “(Name)!” Steve exclaimed, causing me to run into the hallway. I heard Sam teasing Steve before closing my door. “Jarvis? Can you show me the store Cap was talking about?” “Of course ma’am,” He gave you an address and the information on the company who owns it, and the schedule to demolish it.

________________________________________________________________

The next day you were at the Store with the company manager, I adjusted my sunglasses as he was currently blabbing about how the building was too old and the plans for the hotel. “And the hotel will-” “Let me just stop you there bud, I already know everything that is going to happen, I just want to look at the buildings that you will be destroying here, so if you could just stay out here I’d appreciate it.” I said closing the old candy store door in his face.

I might have been a little rude but what kind of adult speaks of this place like a teenage girls going to invest in it? I maybe a Stark but still. “Alright Jarvis, what do we have here? Anything cool I can make out of this place?” I said scanning the room, looking at the candy containers and other knick knacks left behind. “The building has western platform framing, little damage, no termites.” “Could I use this wood to build a bookshelf?” I asked looking at the counter, the glasses scanned the piece. “Yes, the wood hasn’t been damaged.”

“Good” I looked around a little more before walking up the stairs. Looking around I found an old game machine. “What do we have here Jarvis?” “It appears to be a pinball machine.” “Anything that isn’t obvious?” I asked. “A Five Star Final Jr. pinball machine from 1932.” “Sounds like it could be worth something, doesn’t matter though cause it will be in Steve’s possession tomorrow.” I said to myself, before picking up said (heavy) machine. I struggled down the stairs and out the front door, seeing the company manager standing where I left him.

“Put this in my truck would ya? I’m weak and young” I said handing it to him. “U-Uh yes Ms.Stark.” I looked around, seeing some construction workers. I approached. “Excuse me, do one of you have a hammer I could borrow?” They looked at me before laughing. I rolled my eyes. “Typical” I said before grabbing one out of the bag next to one of them. “Hey! What are you doing?” One of them yelled. “Your job!”

I walked back into the ‘store’ walking to the counter before ripping it up, putting the wood in a pile. I looked at the door when I was finished seeing the manager and workers standing there. “You going to help me put these in my truck or get out the way. They quickly scrambled grabbing the wood and running out the door. “That’s what I thought.”

________________________________________________________________

After getting everything I needed from the building I went to an antique store, finding some vinyls and books he didn’t already have.

I finally got home, making sure I had a tarp over my trunk so no one could see what I got. Now I just had to sneak from the garage to my room without being caught by Steve. The elevator ride to the hallway was easy, but when the doors opened I listened for movement in the living room. Not hearing any I bolted from the elevator to my door.

“(Name)?” I froze turning to see Steve in the doorway of the living room.

“Where were you?” “The Dog store.” “Dog store?” “Yeah It’s like a new thing it’s separate stores of different animals so If you’re allergic to one animal you don’t have to be near them.” “Really? Where is it?”

“Oh uh downtown? I don’t remember, I was trying to go to Walgreens but found it and got distracted, because I wanted a dog.” “So is a dog in one of those bags?” He gestured to my bags. “They are dog...ceramics instead, because I am not ready to take care of a dog yet. So I’m going to put these up, bye!” I ran into my room to avoid further questioning. I sighed after closing the door.

________________________________________________________________

I woke up the next morning at 3am to make sure I finished sorting everything before Steve woke up, which usually is 5am on weekdays. I cleaned up the pinball machine before wrapping it, putting it in my room. Then I brought the wood up to the workshop where I found my dad working on something. “What are you doing up kid? And where did you get all the wood? Normal parents don’t have to asked that (Name).” He said picking up one of the planks, examining it.

“Normal kids aren’t Starks.” I replied pulling out my tools. “Touche,” He paused, sitting in the seat in front of my table. “So, what are you doing with a pile of wood at 4 in the morning?” He asked. “I am making a bookshelf.” “For Cap?” “Yeah, he was saying that he needed one so I figured I’d make one.” “Where’d you get the wood from?” “Some building that’s being demolished, went in, stole some planks, and bolted.” I answered, putting my gloves on.

“That’s my girl.” He said, standing up. “I’m going to get to bed, good luck kid.” “Thanks dad.” He turned on some music for me before leaving, while I got to work.

________________________________________________________________

After a couple of hours I finished the bookshelf, wrapping it like a pro. I saw it was 7am, and decided to pass out on the couch. I was woke up to someone shaking me. “Huh?” I rubbed my eyes, looking at the person who woke me up. “Oh, Happy Birthday Steve!” I said sitting up. “Thanks, what are you doing on the couch?” He asked, sitting next to me. “I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday, but then I fell asleep.” I said with a face that showed I was disappointed in myself.

He laughed, setting the cup of coffee he had on the table. “Don’t worry, you were the first.” “I was?” I asked excitedly, he nodded, causing me to laugh. “Yes!” Nat and Sam walked into the room, getting their morning coffee. “Happy Birthday Cap.” They both said. “hehe I was first” I said quietly, causing Steve to chuckle, before going to my room to get cleaned up for the day.

________________________________________________________________

We spent the day outside, having a true American 4th of July, because Steve didn’t to make a big deal about his birthday but I sure was gonna. BBQ, yard games, and swimming in the pool I made my dad put outside. Around dinner, we gave Steve our presents. “I’m last!” I yelled, dragging my stuff to the backyard. I put the bookshelf in Steve’s room, bringing everything else outside, setting them on the table with the other presents. “(Name), ” Everyone laughed at the amount of things I had.

“I’m last.” I said again sitting down. He opened everyone else’s gifts, and at last it was my turn. “Alright (Name) what did you do?” Sam asked as I plopped the gift in front of Steve. “I saw and I got.” I replied. “She’s definitely a Stark.” Clint said. He opened the vinyls first, then the books. “What is this?” Steve asked, grabbing the wrapped pinball machine. He unwrapped the the paper. “A Five Star Final.” “What?” Sam looked at it confused.

“It’s a pinball machine” I replied. “It looks just like the one I played with when I was a kid.” Steve said. “Welllllll, It might be the one?” Steve looked at me. “I found it in the candy store.” “You went there?” “I was curious.” He stood up, giving me a big hug. “Thank you.” “Of course.” “Are we missing something here?” Clint asked. “You kids wouldn’t understand.” I said, letting go of Steve. “Happy Birthday Steve!” I said, everyone else yelling ‘happy birthday’ too.

________________________________________________________________

I was in my room, when Steve knocked on my door. “What’s in my room?” He asked. “Oh yeah!” I ran to his room, seeing the present still wrapped. “I didn’t want to flex too hard in front of everybody.” “What?” “Just open it! Open open open open op-” “Okay okay!” He laughed tearing the patriotic paper. “A bookshelf?” “That I made, from the counter of the shop.” “(Name).” “You didn’t want me to buy the store, so I did the next best thing I could think of.”

He gave me a hug, more bear-like then the one before. “Thank you so much (Name), I don’t think anyone’s has ever put so much thought into my gifts before.” I smiled, squeezing Steve as hard as I could, causing him to let out a laugh.

“Now you have to get me the best present for my birthday.”

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behrooz-musigns · 3 years

Photo

+ Innovative, warm, witty, kind, protective, geeky +/- Intellectual, observant, horny - impatient, unreliable, outspoken, easily distracted

++ BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Behrooz Hakim Najm PRONUNCIATION: Beh-roes MEANING: Lucky ZODIAC: Pisces ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Bi SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Poly CURRENT LOCATION: Epineios OCCUPATION: Student, IT

++ BIOGRAPHY

Behrooz personally invented the saying ‘I guess luck is just on my side’, or so they would have everyone in their school believe when they got another high score in one of the games they played in the back of the school. They would do guessing games, with people asking them a number which they had written down, and Behrooz would always guess right.

Sadly luck rarely followed them home. They were raised by their grandmother, who forbade them to hang out after school, and certainly ensured they would never be seen hanging out with girls on their own. She would remind them time and time again of their father, a gambler who had made it big winning game after game, then one day showed up with a baby, only to drink himself to death a year later. She would remind them that they were the family’s burden, and they would have to behave in order to not bring another burden upon them.

And as they grew older, luck left them more and more often. Being a practicing Muslim was already a hard sell, but with the world growing more extreme around them, they found the community stifle their ambitions daily. It confused Behrooz that while their religion gave them anxiety, praying chased the demons away. It was almost as if they couldn’t have the one without the other.

Life was a constant . Bad people walking in and out of their life, bullies, racist teachers, judgemental neighbors, judgemental extended family members. Behrooz tended to lock themselves up in their room every day, listening to music or playing games of chance. A knot seemed to live inside their stomach all the time, a fear of being plucked off of the street and never arriving home.

When that actually happened, it wasn’t like they had imagined.

Being mostly interested in digits, numbers, code, etc. Behrooz hadn’t paid much attention to history class when Ancient Greek and Ancient Rome were being discussed, and as they saw a creepy creature with goat legs walk up to them, they really wished they had. There was a whole speech about being in mortal danger, gods, strange creatures on the loose, yada yada. Behrooz had a headache by the time the goat legged creature told them to follow him. Very close to sparking some lie about soccer practice or prayers, their head snapped back to attention when the creature suggested they had a mother who was a God.

The only thing driving them forward was the possibility of learning who their mother was, something in their brain sending out constant messages of: gotta meet mom, gotta meet mom, gotta meet mom. Rather than forming coherent sentences. They disappeared into some cleared out old train tunnel, and emerged on the other side of the bleedin’ ocean. All Behrooz knew to say was: “thought your accent sounded funny.” Before being swarmed by the strangest assortment of kids, some younger than their fourteen years, others older, everyone excited. Was this the right time to say they were Muslim and watch everyone slowly disappear like they had done back in school?

Nobody really seemed to care however, over the years - in which they discovered their godly parent, never got to meet her, discovered she was probably the most difficult goddess to find, got a large portion of the camp to join them during Ramadan - Behrooz stayed at the Camp the whole year round. They didn’t wish to return to the UK, and followed online lessons to keep up with their education. Of course they were bleedin’ lucky, and with time they learned how to use that luck to their advantage, and to that of those around them. Yet, Behrooz started to appreciate the balance of it all, the bad and the good.

To them, code was good. Watching others struggle with programs and computers, just made them more interested in it. Algorithms fascinated them, they could spend hours looking at code trying to figure out how it worked. When the time came for them to move out of the warm nest of Camp Half Blood, Behrooz had already set their sights on studying Programming at the University of New York.

++ HEADCANONS

++ Horny as hell, and often very lucky in love, although they can never seem to hold on to anyone for long.

++ A skilled programmer with a love for code and numbers and digits. They can stay up nights on end trying to figure out some new program or write an algorithm of their own.

++ Despite their interests in the digital, Bez spends most of their time outside if they can help it. They love forests, trees, the fresh air. They take walks a lot, driving the metro to the park and helping themselves to a huge thermos of coffee.

++ Religion is an important part of their life, without it they would be nowhere. Whenever they feel lost or anxious, they tend to be eager for it to be time to pray, something they do five times a day.

++ They’ve read the Quran, although their grandmother never taught them Arabic beforehand, so they’re currently reading it in English in between classes, thesis writing, and walks.

++ Bez is a very kind individual, who will help others whenever they can - mostly with IT stuff. As a job, or a way to get money mostly, they help teachers or partake in arranging anything that needs a programmer. They’re a regular Upwork user.

++ In fights Bez uses their ability to generate luck to get other Demigods out of trouble and make the damage less.

++ They love bunk beds.

++ Wears very loose-fitting clothing.

++ Drinks way too much coffee and black tea.

++ Doesn’t like it when people constantly nag.

++ Extremely messy, will end up finding coffee mugs everywhere.

++ Is always running from one place to the next because he has too much planned on a daily basis.

++ SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: Above average OFFENSE: Lacking DEFENSE: Main attribute SPEED: Above average INTELLIGENCE: High ACCURACY: Descent AGILITY: Good STAMINA: Fine TEAMWORK: Speciality TALENTS: Luck manipulation SHORTCOMINGS: Easily distracted, no overview LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: English DRIVE?: yes JUMP-STAR A CAR?: not really CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: absolutely not RIDE A BICYCLE?: absolutely SWIM?: decently PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: piano and guitar PLAY CHESS?: no BRAID HAIR?: one day maybe TIE A TIE?: yes PICK A LOCK?: yes

++ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: Viveik Kalra EYE COLOR: brown HAIR COLOR: brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: semi-long, wavy, thick GLASSES/CONTACTS?: no DOMINANT HAND: right HEIGHT: 1.75m WEIGHT: 65kg BUILD: lean EXERCISE HABITS: jogging in the morning, some sparring during the weekend SKIN TONE: brown TATTOOS: none PIERCINGS: none MARKS/SCARS: none NOTABLE FEATURES: three-day beard on account of forgetting to shave USUAL EXPRESSION: concentrated or dreamlike CLOTHING STYLE: loose clothing, soft fabric. JEWELRY: two rings on their right hand ALLERGIES: incense

++ PSYCHOLOGY

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral ELEMENT: earth MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: Dyslexia, slight ADHD SOCIABILITY: normal EMOTIONAL STABILITY: average, let’s not talk about it. OBSESSION(S): code COMPULSION(S): gambling, drinking coffee and forgetting coffee, hyper-focus PHOBIA(S): fear of people being Islamphobic ADDICTION(S): caffeine DRUG USE: none ALCOHOL USE: none PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: no

++ MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: quick, active, excited ACCENT: London British QUIRKS: licks teeth, uses swear words HOBBIES: coding, walking, jogging, drinking coffee, is Starbucks a hobby? HABITS: forgetting to sleep, running from place to place NERVOUS TICKS: tapping feet, sighing a lot DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: meeting their mom, finishing their education FEARS: fear of being neglected or ignored SENSE OF HUMOR: yes, mostly dark British humor. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: a lot, though they use ‘bleedin’’ and several other more British less terrible words. CATCHPHRASE(S): “must be my lucky day” “I was born lucky”

++ FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: walking/hiking in the forest ANIMAL: raven BEVERAGE: coffee BOOK: Thief Lord by Cassandra Clarke CELEBRITY: Tom Hanks COLOR: Green DESIGNER: ?? FOOD: Sharma FLOWER: Lotus GEM: Emerald HOLIDAY: Eid al-Fitr MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: Bike MOVIE: The Internship MUSICAL ARTIST: Sigur Ros QUOTE/SAYING: “No person knows what he will earn tomorrow” SCENERY: forests SCENT: freshly grinded coffee SPORT: soccer SPORTS TEAM: Manchester united TELEVISION SHOW: I, Robot WEATHER: overcast and drizzly VACATION DESTINATION: -

++ ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: to create their own algorithm that can help people choose what they want the most GREATEST FEAR: being targeted or discriminated based on their religion MOST AT EASE WHEN: at home, in their bed, with coffee, coding, or hiking in the forest, or at a mosque praying LEAST AT EASE WHEN: in a crowded place, discussing religion WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: being killed before finishing their degree BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: getting a scholarship on luck alone BIGGEST REGRET: never having known their father MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: grabbing a girl by her boobs in a hug from behind by accident BIGGEST SECRET: sometimes wishes they weren’t born a Demi-god. TOP PRIORITIES: finishing their thesis

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madamsixx · 4 years

Text

Beyond The Leather Chapter 30: I Want This To Work

Nikki's POV

Bob decided to just help me on my own instead of me going back to rehab. Fuck those people and all there God shit it wasn't for me. We spent 2 days cleaning out my closet and throwing all my syringes, drugs, and spoons away. I even called my grandparents for support. I really missed them. My Nona was sick so I couldn't talk to her but I did speak to Tom. I told him about Iman too. Hopefully I could bring her down to Idaho one day to meet them. Bob said I might want to look into hiring someone to make sure I stay clean. I'll do that when I'm ready.

Any ways, today Iman was coming over. We have been spending alot of time together since I left rehab and went over to her condo. I've been staying clean and we have been enjoying each others company. She did tell me though that we have to keep what ever it is that we have a secret. She didn't exactly say why, but for now I was picking her up down the street from her condo. It's funny how life works. When I first saw her in 1984 at the diner in New York I said to my self I've gotta have that girl. I have been chasing her around for years trying to win her over. And it just seemed like whenever I thought I had her it turns out that I didn't. But now look at us were getting along really well. She told me that she was going to come visit me at my place while I was getting clean but she wasn't able to come. However she always left me sweet messages to encourage me to stay positive and to let me know that she was thinking of me.

It was going to be her first time coming over to my place to hang out so I wanted everything to be perfect. I cleaned up the house from room to room and even tried polishing the floor. Her condo was always clean when ever I came over so I wanted my place to be up to her standards. The last time she came over was when they had they intervention. My place was a mess because I was throwing things around. So I had to impress her and show her that I keep my house in order. She's a princess and I have to treat her as such.

I didn't know how to cook so instead I just made little bolognese sandwiches hoping she would like them. I also went out earlier and bought cranberry juice. I had the pool cleaned to and the deck around it cause I wanted to go for a swim. Well actually I want to see her in a bikini. I never did forget that C magazine photo shoot. I showered twice and brushed my teeth to the point where my gums were bleeding. I wanted to make sure my mouth and body smelt good. I'm hoping that she would be open to us talking about me being her boyfriend. Ever since the night I nearly overdosed in London and saw her sleeping on the bed, something changed in me. I no longer wanted to just have sex with her. I wanted to have sex with her as her boyfriend. I want to make her mine and mine alone.

Iman's POV

Me and Nikki have been spending a lot of time together since I last saw him at my condo. He's been staying clean and we have been enjoying each others company. How ever I told him that we had to keep what ever we had a secret. I couldn't risk Tamara finding out. So on my days off when I didn't have any interviews or photoshoots I would tell Tamara that I was out with Rachel, Jade, and Mel. But mostly Rachel because she really liked her. He would pick me up down the street from the condo and we would head over to a cafe, watch movies, or just go for walks. I was going to be hanging out at his place today for the first time.

I finished one of my photo shoots and I had the limo drop me off at Nikki's place. He told me to bring my bikini because we were going for a swim. I pressed his buzzer and he opened the gate right away. I got out of the limo and he came out of his door holding his hands out for me to come and hug him. I ran into his arms and he kissed my forehead.

"Wow Nikki you really cleaned up." I said as I walked around his home. "I did." He smiled and crossed his arms.

I walked noticing that things were different. The two times I came here the place was a mess. He still had the whole gothic thing going on but that was Nikki he was just a doom and gloom kind of guy. I even noticed that the ground was polished. He's so cute, did he really want to impress me that much.

"So what do you think about my place?" He walked towards me wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I love your place Nik, it's definitely you." I chuckled.

"Ok so I got the pool ready if you want to change into your bikini in the washroom?"

"No I wore it underneath." I turned to look at him.

"Ok let's go." He intertwined his hand in mine and we walked to the back yard where his pool was. His backyard was huge and so was his pool. It was definitely better than the buildings condo that's for sure. I turned and watched as Nikki took of his shirt and through it on the ground. God he is so hot.

"See something you like doll." He said biting his lip and walking towards me.

I snapped out of my day dreaming of his body. "No but you'll see something that you like."

Nikki's POV

I watched as she slowly started taking off her clothes. She had curves that I have never seen on a woman before, she had long legs that I wanted wrapped around my body, and hips that I could hold onto while smashing my cock inside of her. She turned and walked slowly and seductively into the pool. I don't know how much longer I could control myself for. I wanted her very badly.

"See something you like?" She grinned devilishly at me.

"Yes." I said adjusting myself.

"Well then come in here rockstar." She raised a brow.

I wanted to come for sure, but not in the pool. I walked down my steps and swam over to her. I picked her up and she wrapped her arms and legs around me. We started kissing and I slipped my tounge into her mouth. I'm really hoping she considers me being her boyfriend.

Iman's POV

We both played around in the pool for a while and then got out to just sit and talk. Because Nikki didn't know how to cook he made sandwiches for the both of us to snack on he aslo went out to buy me cranberry juice. We layzed around for the rest of the day and I felt like this was the Nikki I used to know when we would meet each other at the cafe in 1984.

"Your pool is huge." I said as I leaned on his chest as he leaned on the beach chair. I was drinking cranberry juice while he was writing inside a booklet. "What are you writing rockstar?"

"I'm writing lyrics down princess. These are songs that are going to be on the next album." He says kissing my head.

"Will you let me read them?" I looked up at him. "Of course doll." He hands me the book and I start to read the lyrics on the paper.

Can't find my doctor My bones can't take the ache If ya dance with the devil Your day will come to pay

Downtown Fuel injected dreams Are bursting at the seams Am I in Persia Or am I just insane?

Downtown downtown One foot in the grave Such a foolish child For a date with death Sight the dotted line

I've been through hell And I've never goin' back

To dancing on glass Going way too fast Gonna burn and crash Valentine's in London Found me in the trash

"Wow this is deep Nikki. Is this about your drug use?" I questioned him.

"Yeah I felt like I wanted to write a song about it y'know. Especially cause I'm turning my life around and I don't want to go back to using again." He shrugged.

"Well I'm happy for you. I hope your happy too?" I turn to look at him.

"I am now." He looked at me and caressed my cheek. "So what are we?"

"Um what do you mean?" I asked with confusion.

"I mean what are we? Last time you came over to my place I asked to be your boyfriend and you didn't answer the question?" He sat up.

I turned away from him hoping that he wouldn't bring up that night. I wanted to make sure that he was really clean and stayed cleaned before I jumped into a relationship with him. Especially because if we got into a relationship then eventually I would have to tell my family and Tamara that me and Nikki were seeing each other.

"W...well I think we should take things slow dont you? I mean your only just getting clean and I just want to make sure you stay on the right path."

Nikki rolled his eyes and slowly pushed me forward. He got up and walked into his house. This was a tough situation we were in. Sure I really liked him and wanted to see where things could go between us. But at the same time I couldn't help but think that he was a heroin addict. He was literally shooting himself up. And that's a scary thing to know. I got off the chair to go and check up on him.

"Nikki!" I called to him as I entered his house.

I walked around and then heard the strumming of a guitar. I walked towards where the noise was coming from and opened his door a bit. I watched as he sat on the bed and started playing a tune on his base. He looked up at me and motioned for me to come in the room. I walked into the room and sat down in front of him. And smiled.

"Have you ever played on a guitar before?" He stopped playing.

"Never." He grinned at me. "Do you want to try?" I nodded my head and sat in front of him as he took off the guitar and placed it around me. He took my hands and placed it where it belonged on the guitar. He started using my hands to strum on it. I felt like I was in heaven and life was simple. At that moment there was no other place I wanted to be.

Nikki moved his hands from mine and moved back against the head board of his bed and leaned on it.

"Sixx what is it?" I sighed.

"I just feel like we should be more. I'm doing great and we spend a lot of time together. So what's the real problem?"

"Nikki." I sighed again. "For now I just want us to take things slow. Please." I pleaded.

I wasn't ready to actually admit to him that he would never be accepted into my life. I just needed time to figure all that out. But for now I just wanted to enjoy what we had.

"Ok we can go slow. But does that mean no sex?" He raised his brows.

"Yes it does. I'm not ready for that but we can kiss." I moved forward towards him and kissed his cheek. __

I woke up feeling Nikki's arm around me. I looked up at the time 12:20 am. "Oh no Nikki wake up!" I panicked and shook him. We watched TV series and movies till we ended up falling asleep.

"What..what?" He woke up groaning.

"You need to drop me home right now. Tamara will be wondering where I am." I got up and put my clothes back on and ran out of the room to put my shoes on. Nikki got up and came out after me putting on his shirt and boots. We got into his car and I told him to drop me off at the corner of the condo.

"You going to be ok?" He asked leaning in to kiss me. "Yeah I will I gotta go." I kissed him back and got out of the car.

"Wait doll." He got out of the car and walked towards me. "I want this work." He whispered to me. "Me too Nikki." I leaned in and kissed him again. I pulled away and ran into the Condo. I came out of the elevator and composed myself before going into the apartment. I took my keys out and unlocked the door. I slowly opened it up and poked my head in. I walked in and saw Tamara and Jess standing around the living room pacing around.

"Where the hell have you been?" Tamara yelled at me.

"Iman where have you been?" Jess exhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry I went out and forgot what time it was." I walked slowly towards her.

"So why didn't you call? You had us worried about you?" She yelled. "I had to call Jess to get her down here and try to find you?" She yelled again.

"I'm really sorry Tamara." I spoke calmly.

"Go to your room now!" She yelled again. "We'll talk about this tomorrow!"

I ran passed her into my room and shut the door. Tomorrow was going to be hell.

Nikki's POV

I walked into my closet digging around and looking for something. When I moved from Robbin Crosby's apartment, I had put a couple of papers that were important to me inside of certain boxes. I hadn't touched them since but now I felt like I could use one of the lyrics that I had written when I got Iman drunk and high at a party. I finally found the paper, I can't believe I wrote this when she was sleeping. But she really is the reason I can't sleep. I can use these lyrics for the the new album.

#motley crue #nikki sixx #vince neil #mick mars #tommy lee #thedirt #model #chanel iman #bwwm wmbw

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