#got decided from that one brooklyn 99 opening
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How to: tame my Narrator
Step 1: Locate him. He is usually in a dark office or corner.
Step 2: Lure him out of hiding by throwing a marshmallow.
Step 3: Throw a blanket over him and wrap him up.
Step 4: Place the blanket on a couch and hug him.
DISCLAIMER: THIS ONLY WORKS IF YOU ARE STANLEY, OTHERWISE YOU WILL BE ZAPPED
#will draw this in the future#it’s a funny little idea#he really likes marshmallows#got decided from that one brooklyn 99 opening#tsp#the stanley parable#tspud#tsp narrator#the narrator tsp#stannarrator#stanley parable#tspud narrator
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so the thing about english is that people think it's so divorced from other germanic languages based on like. words. I've even heard people try to insist that english is a romance language. because of that whole messy business in 1066 with out-of-wedlock willy and his band of naughty normans. and now a good chunk of the vocabulary is french or whatever and they're prestigious so not using them makes you sound like a rube and this and that and the other
and yes william the conqueror will never be safe from me. I will have my revenge on him. he fucked up a perfectly good germanic language is what he did. this will be me in hell
but the thing is that most words in, say, german do have a one to one english equivalent. not all hope is lost, for those who still dare to see it. it's just that you 1066pilled normancels aren't looking in the right place
dog (en) ≠ der Hund (de) but der Hund (de) -> hound (en)
look with your special eyes. that one was easier. not all of them are this intuitive because of semantic narrowing and broadening and waltzing and hokey-pokeying and whatever else. I'll give you a few more
animal (en) ≠ das Tier (de)
aha! you think. I've got him on the ropes now.
but then
das Tier (de) -> deer (en)
nooooo!! you whine and cry in gay baby jail. the consonants are different!!! listen to me. listen, I say, putting both my hands on your shoulder. /t/and /d/ are the same sound. you just put your voice behind one of them.
nooooooooo!! you wail. deer are animals but not all animals are deer!!! listen to me. LISTEN. they used to be. animals used to be deer. that's just what we called them. it was a long time ago. it was a weird time in all our lives. it's okay.
let's try for a verb this time
to die (en) ≠ sterben (de) but sterben (de) -> to starve
same principle with the consonants, we're just changing a stop (where we completely stop the airflow and then let it through) for a fricative (where we still let some air go through. idk where it's going. maybe to its job or something.)
to starve used to mean generally to die, not just to die of malnourishment. we do that a lot. we take one word for a lot of things and make it mean one thing. or take one word for one thing and make it mean a lot of things. this is common and normal.
"okay but roland," you say, suddenly coming up with an argument. "what about tree? trees are super common. I don't think we'd fuck around too much with that. the german word is baum! what about THAT?"
"when did you learn german?" I ask, but then decide it isn't relevant right at this very moment. but fine.
tree (en) ≠ der Baum (de) but der Baum (de) -> beam (en)
beam??? you ask incredulously. beam???? BEAM?????? you continue with the same tone and cadence of captain holt from brooklyn 99.
yes. beam. like the evil beams from my eye I'm going to hit you with if you don't stop shouting.
but the vowels!!! you howl.
listen. listen to me. the vowels mean nothing. absolutely nothing. they're fluid like water. it got raised in english.
"WHAT DOES RAISED MEAN"
it doesn't matter right now. they were raised better than you, at least. stop shouting. open your eyes and see what god has given you. they're the same word.
"they're NOT the same word. they mean different things!"
we've been over this. they didn't used to. a beam was (and is) a long solid piece of wood. much like the long solid piece of wood I showed your mother last night.
FAQ:
Q: could english be some kind of germanic-romance hybrid?
A: do you become a sexy thing from the black lagoon just because you dressed up as one for halloween? english may have gotten a lot of vocabulary from norman french, but its history and syntax are distinctly germanic. that's what we base these things on.
Q: okay but what does it matter? this doesn't actually affect my day to day life
A: you come into my house? you come into my house, the house of an autistic man living in vienna austria and studying english linguistics and you ask me what does it matter? sit back down. I was going to let you go but now I have powerpoints to show you
Q: you're stupid and wrong and gay and a bad person
A: I know it's you, Willy
#I don't know what came over me#it was the devil#linguistics#english linguistics#etymology#shitpost nach sacher art
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Picnic
@me-writes-prompts
Planning a picnic and making them food even if you’re an amateur cook, in hopes you’ll impress them more🫶🏽 - Dr Ethan Ramsay x reader
You had loaded up your car with a basket full of different meals that you were hoping would impress your boyfriend, after finally accepting fate and deciding to give in to the feelings that you both harboured for one another you and Ethan had been in a relationship for the last six weeks. This was your first official date and you were nervous mainly because this would be the first time he would truly be getting a chance to taste your cooking and baking. You both had the day off, a bit of sneaky rostering on Ethan’s part so when you arrived outside his apartment, dressed in a spring dress with a cardigan over top he smiled at your appearance
“You look gorgeous Y/N” he says as he looks you up and down, as you do the same. He’s wearing casual clothes, but even then he still looks ruggedly handsome. You then reach out for his hand and he chuckles
“Hang on Y/N, I’ve got to get Jenner ready if that’s alright with you?” and you beam, excited that his dog was coming along on your date as well.
“Of course” you say and he smiles back at you, placing a quick kiss on your lips before retreating to get Jenner and his leash from the living room. When the two return you can’t help but wonder who is more excited for this outing, your boyfriend or his pooch and you giggle at the thought.
“What is it my dear?” he asks as he comes and stands at your side, locking the door as the three of you exit the apartment.
“Just thinking about which one of you two is more excited for our date, Jenner or yourself” you tease and he chuckles
“Oh I am definitely excited for our date, spending time with the two best things in my life” he says and you blush.
“Stop” you say trying to hide your face and he chuckles again
“I’m serious, now I remember you saying something about some home cooked meals and a picnic?” he asks and you smile
“Yes, and I have the perfect spot as well” you and he nods
“Alright, then let’s away”.
Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi, @jimmybpride, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy, @nikkiwierden, @samchelforever007, @kirkspockbones, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love, @haliannej, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake, @mizzezm, @genius2050, @twilight-twihard, @cullencoven2019, @wxlfgirlx, @luciferxchloeislove, @drethanramsey-ismybabe, @sawyer-oakley-is-mighty-fine, @loverofoneshots, @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen
Tag List for Pixelberry fics: @cordoniaqueensworld, @aworldoffandoms, @desiree—1986
Tag List for Open Heart: @melissagoodwill, @lady-kato, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker, @cxld-play
#pixelberry choices#pixelberry#open heart#open heart fic#open heart imagine#open heart reader insert#open heart x reader#dr ethan ramsay#ethan ramsay#ethan ramsay imagine#ethan ramsay x reader
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Full Boyle - Yandere!Charles Boyle x GN!Reader
A/N: It's funny because I got a very similar Wesker request. Also I've decided to start just quoting the request & pinging the requester when they aren't anonymous bc this is more aesthetically pleasing :)
Request/Prompt: hello!! :) could i please request yandere!charles boyle x reader? maybe reader is a new detective in the 99 and is a lot younger than boyle, but he knows reader is ‘the one.’ maybe he ends up kidnapping them or going full-Boyle, thinking he wouldn’t have a chance with them otherwise. thank you so much! i can’t wait to read it and also make a rosa request! ❤️ - @flowercrowns-goodvibes
Contains: Yandere dark shit (Obviously), age gap (LEGAL), early Brooklyn Nine-Nine time (Late S1?)
The officers had all gathered, talking about what they thought the new recruit would be like. Scully & Hitchcock expressed their desire for it to be another older man to join their duo.
"There is no way they are going to hire another old-timer," Peralta joked.
"I want another woman here, I can't deal with Jake being gross for one more second," Amy spoke up.
"You're right Amy, another woman here would be cool," Jake joked suggestively.
"Okay, that's disgusting."
The group paused as they heard Captain Holt talking. He was personally showing you around the precinct. He arrived at your new desk, across from Boyle's, & turned to the team.
"Why is everyone staring?" Holt asked with the same deadpan look he always had.
"Are they the new recruit?" Amy asked excitedly.
Holt nudged you to introduce yourself, "Hello everyone! I am Y/N L/N, I'm fresh out of the academy & I am the new recruit!"
Everyone got excited & the group began introducing themselves to you. You thought you had met everyone but your new captain was looking around, seemingly confused.
"Where is Boyle?"
"He was just here, right next to me," Jake spoke up.
"Well, he'll introduce himself whenever he comes back. Welcome to the precinct, Y/N. Come with me to my office, I'll get you your first case."
The truth is, Boyle left because he was absolutely awestruck. He was too afraid to talk to you, you captured his heart without even saying a word to him. His heart was racing & he was blushing hard.
Over the next couple of months, Boyle managed to talk to you. Jake definitely noticed the crush & tried to set you two up. Possibly a coincidence, likely somehow Jake's fault, but you were constantly paired up with Boyle. He took note of your preferred morning beverage & snacks, being sure to bring you some when you forgot. You grew to like his weird quirks & your laugh was like music to Boyle's ears. You actually started to get a crush on your dork of a coworker. Everything seemed completely fine... well.
Boyle pulled Jake away from his conversation with Amy & into the men's restroom, insisting it was urgent. He checked under each stall as Jake stood with his arms crossed, completely confused.
"Boyle, what is going on?"
Once the coast was clear, Boyle grabbed onto Jake's shoulders, "Jake, I messed up!"
"What do you mean?"
"I went Full Boyle!"
Jake let out a laugh, "Oh come on, Boyle. That's nothing new, this could have waited. Welp, we're here anyways, what did ya' do?"
Boyle fidgeted with his hands, he decided to tell the truth.
You showed up just on time, you usually preferred to show up fifteen minutes early to events but considering this was a one-on-one dinner at your crush's house... you decided to be predictable. You knocked at the door & it opened almost immediately like he was waiting for you to knock. Boyle looked you up & down quickly, jaw dropped.
"You look amazing, Y/N! Come on in," he made room for you to walk past him.
You blushed as the man guided you to the kitchen table. It was set up very romantically with roses. You were shocked to say the least, the two of you were supposedly just having a casual dinner.
"What's all this?"
"Only the best for you, Y/N. Speaking of, I'll go get the food! Please, have a seat," Boyle pulled a chair out for you as you spoke.
Once you sat down, Boyle headed to the kitchen & returned with two plates of beautiful food.
He set a plate in front of you first, "Please, dig in."
You happily obliged him & began eating the food. It tasted even better than it looked. Boyle almost forgot to eat, addicted to your reactions to something he worked so hard to give you. As the food slowly but surely dwindled & the wine disappeared from your glass, Boyle's confidence grew. He decided it was time.
"Y/N?"
"Yeah?" You looked up, cheeks rosy from the wine.
His eyes softened, his brain pulled to other thoughts, "I love you."
You were taken aback. You liked the man, yes, but this was a jump. You thought he might like you, but love you? That's a lot. Maybe he misspoke? Well, you do like him... maybe just roll with it?
"I'm sorry," Boyle spoke, dragging you from your thoughts, you hadn't noticed your weird expression as you thought about the topic at hand.
"No, Charles, it's okay. I-" You began.
"No, I'm sorry. Let me get you more wine."
Boyle took your glass & returned to the safe space that was his kitchen. In a moment of anxiety, he made a stupid decision. He couldn't lose you, not over some slip-up. You weren't leaving. He grabbed some NyQuil from the cabinet & poured it into your wine before returning to the table. He set your glass down in front of you before sitting back down. You awkwardly grabbed the glass & swirled it a little bit.
"Look, Boyle," you spoke slowly, trying to find the right words, "Love is a strong word, but hey, I do like you a lot."
Boyle's eyes widened. He misread the situation. It was too late to stop you, the glass touching your lips the moment you finished speaking.
You shook your head, adjusting to the new taste, "Was that the same bottle? That tasted... different?"
"Oh yeah, it was, um, heavier on the grapes?"
"Huh, that is odd," you were already feeling drowsy from the sheer amount of sleep meds, "I feel... off."
Your worst fears flooded your mind. Did Boyle drug you to take advantage of you? He wouldn't do that, would he?
"I should get home- before I get you sick," you struggled to come up with a believable excuse.
"Oh, nonsense," the man across from you stammered, quickly minimizing the distance between you, "You should lay down if you feel weird though. Would you prefer the couch or my bed?"
Poor guy didn't mean to make the situation worse, he just wanted to go back in time right now. You pulled away from Boyle's embrace, really only scaring him more.
"No, I should just take an uber home. This feels really bad. I don't want to be a burden. Plus, work tomorrow!" You were rambling at this point.
"Y/N, please, just lay down on the couch. I can make you some soup or get you some medicine!"
"Boyle, I want to go home," You head was spinning, staying awake becoming a difficult task.
"Y/N, please-" Boyle tried to grab your arm.
As you ripped away from his grasp, you fell back. Your head hit the floor, it wasn't a big hit. It was enough to daze you though. You looked up at Boyle before finally losing the fight against sleep. You were now out cold on the floor of Boyle's hallway.
Boyle paused as he noticed how crazy he looked, "Nothing- It's nothing."
"Oh come on man, I know how bad you can be. It's not like you kidnaped Y/N or-"
Boyle let out an obnoxiously fake laugh, "No, I wouldn't do that."
"Boyle," Jake now sounded serious, he saw through the laugh.
"What?"
"You did not."
"I didn't," Boyle nodded.
"Don't lie to me, Boyle."
"Who, me? I could never lie! Ring ring ring! Woah, is that my phone?" Boyle laughed awkwardly before running out of the room.
Later that day, Captain Holt stepped out of his office. He looked around for a moment, silently, gaining Amy's interest.
"What is it, Captain?" She asked.
"Oh, Y/N just didn't call in for work. I was checking if they just forgot to clock in & were here all along."
A/N: I am so sorry that this took so long, I have been busy with school, other requests, & being too drained to write. I finally did it! I hope it lived up to expectations!
#brooklyn nine nine#b99#brooklyn 99#charles boyle x reader#charles boyle#full boyle#yandere#x reader#request#requests are open#yandere x reader#gender neutral reader#gender neutral
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22 February 2024 - I woke up at 6:30 am in the back of the AWOL van, parked in from of my house in Henderson. I woke up to the sound of Jimmy turning his car on. I looked up and saw the house was open, and I went in and went straight to bed. I slept until around 9:30 am. I had a lazy day. I chatted with Judah for a while and played some age of empires with him. That was a blast! He told about his days with Mason. He'd had one day where he and Mason went to pickleball together, and Judah was just helping out. Judah also had a day where he and Mason volunteered together at a volunteer community garden, weeding and gardening. I was so excited to hear Judah's stories!
I drove the motorbike to the liquor store and bought two bottles of champagne to bring over to Elise's. Elise flew back to Auckland today from Wellington, where she had competed in the women's nationals spearfishing competition. Elise got the results from the New Zealand women's nationals spearfishing competition - she got third place!!! 🥳🥳🥳 The competition was the day before, but results only just came out today. So, I made sure to get some champagne so we could celebrate! I drove to Piha, and Elise wanted to go on a sunset hike to a place she called "the gap." We drove to Piha Beach south, where I'd never been before; every time I'd been to Piha Beach, I'd gone to Piha Beach North. We walked from the car to the gap, which is this really cool cave that goes through the rock from the shore out to the ocean. It looked like some fantasy landscape out of a movie! We kept walking south along the beach and passed the blowhole. We couldn't see the waves crashing at the blowhole, because the waves were hitting the opposite side of the rock, but we could see the huge spray of water when the waves would hit and shoot up through the blowhole! We hiked up from there up to a really cool viewpoint; we had the place to ourselves, and it felt like the entire Piha beach and sunset was ours. We hung out up there and had a little picnic celebration. I popped open a bottle of champagne, and we poured it into some fancy wine glasses. We sipped on our champagne and talked about the spearfishing competition, family, friends, and other stories. We laughed and talked for a long time as we watched golden hour turn into sunset.
After the sunset, we decided to pack up and head down from our viewpoint in the twilight before it got too dark. We got down to the beach and walked along the beach with a dark night sky overhead before heading back to the car. We drove to Elise's and put on some Brooklyn 99 before heading to bed.
I'm grateful for Judah. I'm grateful for good chats with Judah, and I'm grateful to hear his stories and catch up with him. I'm grateful for Elise. I'm grateful for sunset hikes and stunning views at Piha Beach.
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Dear ghost
A.k.a Mikasa dealing with a teen ghost.
Halloween special 2022: Episode 3. See masterlist for more.
Content warning: nothing, but let me know if you find something.
“Call me if you need anything! Thank you so much, Mika, you’re an angel”
“No worries, His, I’ll be fine. Be safe!”
“Thanks”
Mikasa said her goodbyes and hung up. She was still parked in front of Historia’s home and quickly made her way inside the house. The dark haired woman had never been in that particular house before, since Historia moved very recently, but she figured that it shouldn’t be a problem since Mikasa was only house sitting for one night because her friend’s pets needed some attention and care.
Mikasa entered the home, already being greeted by one of Historia’s three cats. She quickly located the other two laying on the couch, not really minding the intruder. Two very old, but sweet dogs, slowly made their way to greet the girl.
“Hello, miss you two, old ladies” she said, while petting the two dogs' heads.
It was still early in the evening, and Mikasa decided to check if all the animals had their water bowls full, since Historia had already fed them. She also made sure to check if windows and back doors were closed before heading to the kitchen and heating up the take out she had bought on the way to the house. Soon enough, Mikasa was having dinner while scrolling through her social media and thinking about what she could potentially do to entertain herself.
A meow turned Mika’s attention to one of the cats. The animal was looking at the stairs leading to the second floor, seeming curious. Mikasa didn’t mind much, she had cats of her own and they did weird stuff all the time. After cleaning up the kitchen, she went to the living room and made herself comfortable with the animals around her. The cat was still occasionally looking at the stairs, but soon laid next to Mikasa, demanding attention.
She chose to watch Brooklyn 99, just for a relaxing evening with some background noise. Everything seemed okay and soon the girl was dozing off.
thump.
She didn’t really acknowledge the noise the first time.
tump tump tump.
This time she opened her eyes, more because of how three cats decided to step on her while jumping off the couch. The dogs raised their heads as well, looking at the stairs. Now that was weird. Mikasa wasn’t really someone that jumped into supernatural conclusions, often being too skeptical. With her phone ready to dial emergency and silent steps, Mikasa got closer to the stairs, trying to see some sort of shadow.
Weird. Windows and doors were very much locked, unless someone was already in the house before. The girl thought.
A noise behind Mikasa startled the animals. She looked at the direction the sound came from, noticing that one of Historias decorative paperweights was on the floor. She looked at the cats, but it couldn’t really be them if they were still closer to the stairs and the dogs were not interested in getting up from the carpet.
Mikasa picked the paperweight up, putting it into its place.
Home invasion, a ghost, or both. Either way, I don’t have patience for that.
A quick search upstairs showed that nobody was on the house, letting go of the knife she took from the kitchen and finally letting go of the speed dial, Mikasa went back downstairs feeling a little silly.
“It’s probably a ghost, babies” She said to the pets waiting for her in the living room.
Mikasa found it weird that the animals didn’t seem to be upset about the whole situation, specially because one of the dogs was very territorial even in old age. She took her phone and opened her message app.
You: His, do u have ghost problems?
While waiting for a response, she laid back on the couch, noticing that the Brooklyn 99 was still playing. It wasn’t long when another thump echoed, this time it was clearly downstairs. The cats and dogs raised their heads to the noise.
“Dear ghost, I am the housesitter, you can stop trying to scare me” Mikasa said out loud, smiling at her own silliness. That’s when the paperweight just straight up fell on the ground, right in Mikasa's line of sight. Now she was intrigued, that could not possibly be coincidence.
“I’m not picking that up, it’s your mess”
The paperweight was still on the ground, the cats got up from the couch and laid down close to the armchair right beside the couch, as if asking for attention from whoever was there. Typical for a ghost to like armchairs.
“You can sit, want to watch something specific?”
No sound and no paperweights moving. But to Mikasa’s surprise, Brooklyn 99 was suddenly paused.
“Interesting” the girl got a hold of the remote “tap one for ‘yes’ and two for ‘no’, get it?”
She heard a single tap. Yep, that was proof enough of a ghost.
“What about horror movies?”
Two taps.
“I guess not all ghosts enjoy horror movies” she found that quite amusing “comedy?”
Two taps.
Mikasa continued to list a bunch of movie genres and a few famous TV shows, the ghost refused them all until Mikasa said:
“Avatar: The last airbender”
One tap.
"Alright, avatar it is”
The familiar animation started and the ghost didn’t do much. Mikasa almost thought she imagined it all and was about to turn the TV off and go to sleep when she received a message.
His: um, I promise she’s harmless, Mika!
You: I’m watching Tv w them
You: wait, she?
His: Yep, apparently I have a teen girl roomate
You: She tried to scare me off, didn’t work.
His: Exacty why I trapped you there :)
You: You lil shit
His: Love u 💕
Mikasa looked at the armchair again, it didn’t seem like someone was seated there like the horror movies like to do. The only things that indicated someone could be there were the cats sleeping close to the armchair.
You: the cats seem to like her
His: oh, they do. She is very shy, only coming forward when the cats are there
You: u ‘see’ her often?
His: not really, the previous tenant told me about her but I’ve only noticed her once or twice since moving.
You: how’s ymir dealing w it?
His: Ymir still doesn’t believe but she hasn’t seen or heard anything yet
You: she’s gonna flip once something happens
His: lol i’m counting on that
Mikasa smiled. Historia was very much like her, not really bothered by things, but Ymir was terrified of ghosts and supernatural things.
“Hey, I’m going to sleep. I can let the Tv on if you want to”
She heard one tap. Mikasa took this as her sign and made her way into the guest bedroom, noticing how the pets all stayed there, with the ghost.
“Good night, ghost”
She didn’t expect to hear anything back, closing the door and soon letting sleep take her. The next day, very early in the morning, the TV was off and all the pets were sleeping by the guest room’s door. Mikasa thought that maybe she imagined or dreamed everything, but her messages with Historia proved that it was real. She didn’t experience anything during the rest of the day, not a single noise or decorations falling on the ground.
Since Historia and Ymir were coming back to the house that same day, it didn’t take long for Mikasa to start packing her things to go home. She was making sure all the animals were fed and comfortable when she heard tapping noises coming from the stairs.
“Hi, good evening to you” Mikasa said “Need something?”
One tap and the TV was on, still on the streaming app.
“I can put avatar again”
One tap. Mikasa took the remote and opened the streaming app, seeing how far into the episodes it was.
“You watched quite a lot” She commented “can’t judge, It’s a good show”
The ghost didn’t respond, but Mikasa could see the cats already moving towards the armchair again.
“I’m leaving soon, but my friend will be here by 10 p.m.” the girl informed the ghost “can you keep an eye on the pets?”
One tap.
“Thanks, see you next time”
Mikasa left the home, seeing the faint light of the TV from the porch. She smiled, still surprised by how weird but kind of wholesome that experience was. Once she got in the car, she took one last peek of the house, this time noticing a shadowy figure behind the curtain waving at her.
Mikasa looked at the figure, a little too stunned to speak. She couldn’t really see any features, just that it was on the short side. Mikasa waved back and smiled. Eren and Armin were going to have a very fun time hearing about this.
#mikasa ackerman#pls i love her#mikasa aot#aot halloween special#mikasa x reader#reader could be the ghost i guess#aot x reader
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— 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒.
is that SUMMER MILLS? A JUNIOR originally from BEAUFORT, SC, they decided to come to ogden college to study PSYCHOLOGY. they’re THE SPITFIRE VIXEN on campus, but even they could get blamed for greer’s disappearance.
PINTEREST
TW: drug abuse, childhood neglect, knife talk
FULL NAME: summer rosalie mills
NICKNAMES: sum, s, mills
SEXUALITY: bisexual
BIRTHDAY: april 2nd, 2001
BIG SIX: aries sun, leo moon, scorpio rising, scorpio mars, aquarius venus, leo mercury
PET(S): a rosy boa snake named persephone, percy for short
OCCUPATION: full time student and part-time bartender at campus pub
HOMETOWN: beaufort, south carolina
TATTOOS & PIERCINGS: eyebrow piercing, septum piercing, tongue piercing, almost a finished sleeve of tattoos on her arm, small and scattered tattoos on her body.
MUSE INSPO: rosa diaz (brooklyn 99), fiona gallagher (shameless us), mickey milkovich (shameless us), marceline (adventure time), mickey dobbs (love), jen (dead to me) , kat (10 things i hate about you)
THREE POSITIVE TRAITS: confident, intelligent, and open-minded THREE NEGATIVE TRAITS: blunt, hot-headed, selfish
THREE SKILLS: crochet, reading people, debating (arguing, in reality)
— 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃
summer grew up in a very toxic environment. she was an accidental pregnancy, and her parents soon got into drugs not long after her first birthday. her mother was nice enough to her, but she was high off of something all of the time. her father was mean to her, and started to become abusive towards her mother. that physical abuse never carried on to summer, although her father was abusive to her in other ways — the child neglect kind. as soon as she could, summer began to learn how to take care of herself.
when she was eight years old, summer was on the front porch, waiting out yet another explosive fight between her parents — lots of yelling, lots of things being thrown and smashed. at that time, they had new neighbours; concerned neighbours, who had called child protective services on them. it didn’t really take them very long to take one look at the house, her parents, and to deem them unfit to care for a child.
and so started summer’s journey in the foster care system. she was moved around from house to house a lot -- and that was because summer had some behavioural issues that the families she was placed with couldn’t handle. she would do things like ruin their things and furniture, fight with the other kids of her foster family, cut up their pigtails and hair in the middle of the night, and just general disobedience that drove them to the point of having her leave the house and back into the system to be placed with other people. other than this being in her nature, summer played on that just get out of being stuck in one house -- she truly thought she could just take care of herself, and she didn’t need a new family. all she had to do was wait it out until she turned 18 and tough it out herself in the world. but phoebe and ben mills had other plans.
the mills became her foster parents when she was 12 years old, and she did everything in her power to go right back into the system. but they held out, and they were fucking good. summer hated that, because eventually, she softened up around them... and so began the adoption process. around her thirteenth birthday, summer officially became the daughter of phoebe and ben mills. though she was grateful for them, and happy with her new life, it still didn’t stop her from being a difficult child to deal with... up until her teens. smoking, getting in trouble with the law, drinking, sneaking out, getting into fights, stealing — but they could handle it.
when she went to ogden and chose psychology, it was expected of her to grow up and calm down a little, but she just learned how to contain it more in social settings and thought that maybe a degree could be useful to her life, so she shouldn’t get herself kicked out.
RELATIONSHIP TO GREER: no one ever really knew the nature of their relationship. they sometimes hung out in the same crowds, and ended up acquainted with each other. summer has a very strong and aggressive personality, so she kept greer in check most of the time. they argued A LOT when they first met because summer refused to submit to her, the so-called alpha queen bee of campus. however, they really were friends… when they were alone, or when greer was getting herself in some shit, summer took care of her. although people may have thought she hated her, summer didn’t hate Greer. she just knew she was loud and strong with her personality… and summer could respect that, deep down. so, tldr: friends who argued quite often.
— 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 & 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
summer is aggressive. she only knows throw hands, no talk. she’s ready for a fight any time and anywhere, and most of the time her short temper is what starts some of these fights. she’s had a tough start to her life, and so she learned how to be even tougher than life.
however, she has a soft side. but that soft side is only reserved to the people that are closest to her — she’s a ride or die for these people and will absolutely be loyal to them and fight for them till the end. but if you fuck her over once, then you’re dead to her.
she’s got a wild streak to her, she likes parties and fun times — she’s big on drinking and biiiig on smoking weed (my lidol stoner). wild child type beat!
headcanons: she has a knife kink because why not. she collects daggers and pocket knives for both her protection and for the segsy times. she makes her own lavender rolling paper. her snake is her life.
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Friday, June 8th
Holy crap coming back to life
I left off the last post at 7am so I’ll start from there I guess, I waited around until 10 and decided to start exploring. I first went to La Rambla, which is this big open street market which tbh I found kinda underwhelming. I think I went too early bc I saw people still setting up their booths and stuff but honestly it wasn’t that much to look at anyways.
At the end of the street I dropped off my first treasure spot. Low key don’t think my family is going to find them and feel like I’m essentially littering, but I also think it’s kinda cute and fun? We’ll see.
Oh also finally ate a real meal. I had only eaten like a piece of toast at noon yesterday and then left over plan snacks in between my bouts of napping so I was STARVING.
I got this thing that looked kinda like an English breakfast but Spanish style? It was okay but I inhaled it like no one’s business.
After checking out the street I walked to an empanada place that Justin recommended. The walk is when Barcelona really opened up to me. Walking around the “old city” (idk if that’s what it’s called but there’s a distinct difference between the part of the city designed for humans and the city I was in yesterday that’s very designed for cars.
Old city Barcelona is just wonderful. It’s the perfect amount of sense to provide a lot of shade and have a lot of human density without being overwhelming or dirty or urban feeling. There are big old trees planted along the streets EVERYwhere providing really great shade. There are big areas just for pedestrians every other street it feels like. Most roads are one way one lane, which makes crossing roads really easy.
There’s a really nice diversity within the city as well. Completely different vibe for me compared to yesterday. It felt very unique and European rather than just “global” (another factor that might have affected my perspective is that I was fed and had more sleep compared to yesterday tbh)
The empenada place was really good, perfectly fresh and flaky and chewy but I got a bad flavor, which was like spicy taco meat (it said picana!)
Then I walked to the National museum which I passed in the Uber on the way to the market street which looked super cool. It was kinda fun to “find” the National museum not from the internet but just walking around being like “that looks interesting!” The park surrounding the museum was also really nice
Inside the museum was nice and air conditioned and quiet which was refreshing after all the walking but also accentuated my sleepiness. The art was kinda cool but it was less fun not having anyone to share it with and comment on. While I was taking a foot break I saw Linda’s IG story where she’s traveling with Simon and it made me really jealous and wish I was traveling with Dumpling :(
I started to get really sleepy but made it to most of the exhibits. Some of the paintings were really impressive. The one pic I included really struck me bc there’s something shot it that’s so photography but when you look so the details it’s actually clearly oil and expressive. Crazy.
Outside I had a little snack with Jamon Iberico ham bc I recognized the name from Brooklyn 99. Turns out the ham is just the wagyu of perscuttio it was just really fancy flavorful salami lol. It was good but bc it’s expensive they really skimped on how much they put in my sandwich
I thought about getting real food but did not have the energy and went home and crashed.
I made it to 7pm today! And was able to sleep till 5am! So feeling more confident about being able to exist at human hours for this trip.
Renita is having a travel nightmare though, her flight was delayed and then cancelled and the airline wasn’t able to rebook her for some reason? Not a ton of info rn but she’s spending the night in’s hotel in Dallas and is hoping to be able to get to tangier a day later? At least that’s the best case scenario rn. Fingers crossed
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beep boop | jjk
“Beep boop. Repeat until not sad.”
pairing: jungkook x reader (a tongue tied drabble)
genre/warnings: neighbor au, established relationship, fluff, mild angst (mentions of insecurities and anxiety), there’s a brooklyn 99 mention 👀
word count: 2.1k
note: technically this can be read as a standalone but i would recommend reading the other tongue tied drabbles as well for more context! tbh this isn’t as edited as i’d like but it’s still gotta be one of my personal favorites 🥺 oh and it��s inspired by this infamous post lol
series masterpost | main masterlist
“Are you listening to me?”
“Huh?”
It’s not until this moment that you take in Jungkook’s appearance for the first time since you came home. He isn’t in his usual homewear nor his work attire; instead, he’s clad in dark jeans and a gray hoodie. The jacket you spot hanging from the coat rack by the door informs you that he’s heading out.
That’s when you feel a little guilty for not paying attention to him. Since you walked in the door, you’ve only greeted him with a simple hi and a quick peck on the lips before going to change out of your work clothes and settling on the couch, only to turn on the TV and stare at it blankly while you get lost inside your head.
Jungkook had texted to ask if he could use the dryer in your apartment because the one in his was acting up again, so you weren’t surprised when you came home to half-eaten snacks on the coffee table and a man folding his laundry in the middle of your home.
“The guys and I are coming over to Jin hyung’s place to watch the game,” he repeats patiently before turning to point toward the kitchen, “I got fried chicken from that place you like. Just heat it up before you eat.”
“Okay,” you say, “All the guys are gonna be there?”
“Yeah, but maybe not Hobi hyung though. Said he got a date or something.”
You confirm Jungkook’s suspicions of your less-than-pleasant mood when you only nod at the mention of Hoseok—your newfound soulmate—going on a date, a juicy detail that would’ve had you buzzing with excitement otherwise.
“What’s up? What’s bothering you?”
His eyes are already on you when you look at him. Unsure of what to say, or if you should even say it at all, you bite the inside of your cheek. It sounds trivial when you envision verbalizing your inner turmoil.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Slightly nervous at your silence, Jungkook tries again. “It’s okay if you don’t, but I’m here to listen if you do.” This time, you only open your arms wide, beckoning him to come over to your spot on the couch. When he does, you wrap yourself around him and sigh heavily. Somehow, his familiar scent always soothes you. Everything stills for a few beats.
“I think I tanked the presentation today,” you eventually mumble.
He immediately knows. It’s the presentation to pitch your creative proposal that you’ve been working on nonstop for the past two weeks. He’s not sure what happened, but his hand comes up to rub your back anyway.
“Why do you think so? Did they reject your idea?” He asks.
“No,” you say hesitantly, “They said it’s good. But they need another week to decide.”
“Did they say anything else?”
“They said they liked it, and that’s really kind of… it?” You sigh, and you’re not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know. It’s weird. I just feel like it wasn’t good enough. Like I did something wrong.”
Jungkook doesn’t exactly love the way you’re making yourself smaller and doubting yourself, but he appreciates how you’re willing to open up and be vulnerable with him. You’ve been dating for not even three months, but he’s known since before you got together that you’re not this facade you always showcase. You want people to think that you’re more confident and put together than you really are, but it has to get tiring sometimes. Nobody is perfect.
“Look at me,” your boyfriend says, and he has to repeat it more sternly before you finally do. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re so good at what you do, and I know how hard you worked on that proposal. Everything’s gonna be okay. They said they liked it, didn’t they? They probably just need some time to look it over more thoroughly and figure out the kinks and stuff. I’m serious, you’re one of the most dedicated people I know. It’ll work out, baby.”
His words of encouragement take a couple minutes to soak in. You pout before muttering a small thank you, then you’re looking away and hiding your face against the side of his neck. “This is odd. You’re usually a shithead,” you chuckle, trying to change the subject. You’ve never learned how to take a compliment.
Jungkook rolls his eyes halfheartedly, before pressing a kiss into your hair.
“Seriously though, do you want me to stay?” He says after a moment of silently holding you. “I can text Jin right now–”
“It’s fine, bunny,” you say as you place a hand on his forearm, squeezing it to reassure him, “I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine. Go have fun with the boys.”
He only hums as he squeezes you once before letting go to press his lips against your cheek this time.
“Beep boop,” he says, and taps the tip of your nose lightly.
“What?”
“Beep boop,” he repeats, like saying it for the second time helps clear things up in any way. “I read somewhere online that saying it immediately cheers you up. And I quote, “Beep boop. Repeat until not sad.” Beep boop, beep boop, beep boop.”
You laugh at the way his lips repeatedly pucker to accommodate the syllables. It’s really not that funny, but he sounds like a malfunctioning Siri and he keeps echoing it until your body is shaking with laughter and your eyes are starting to well up with tears.
Jungkook finally stops when you slap a hand over his mouth to keep him from talking. It takes a couple minutes for you to calm down; but hey, at least you don’t even remember that you were upset in the first place.
Your hand moves away from his face, but it doesn’t get very far before he catches your wrist yet he says nothing. He just stares at you—your face flushed and eyes glossy with unshed tears from laughing too hard. And there’s something about the way he’s looking at you now; it’s different though not by much, stars in his eyes are still twinkling back at you, but there’s a certain warmth blossoming behind them that softens his entire face.
Then he’s pressing you into the couch and kissing you like his whole heart is behind it. (The group chat is making his phone vibrate incessantly in the backpocket of his jeans, but Jungkook soldiers on). He takes his time, with every slow glide of his lips against yours, to make sure you know he means what he said. That you’re talented, you’re hardworking and dedicated, that you deserve so much more than you think you do.
There’s another thing that he wants to say too, but he doesn’t think it’s appropriate to spring that on you when you’re distraught. So, for now, Jungkook hopes you feel it through the force of his kiss, the delicate swipe of his thumb across your cheek, how his arm around your waist keeps pulling you closer as if he’s trying to mold you into him; all the ways his body is communicating with you in lieu of words.
“Okay, go!” You giggle breathlessly as you pull away when his hips start to move, “I can feel your phone blowing up through your entire ass.”
After Jungkook leaves, time seems to move incredibly slowly. You let yourself be comforted by his words and soothing touches earlier, but your anxiety doesn’t stay subdued for long. It comes back to gnaw on your insides while you gnaw on chicken and fries.
Occasionally, you actually say the words “beep boop” out loud and giggle quietly to yourself. Maybe it’s the sheer ridiculousness of the phrase that has you laughing, or maybe it’s the way you keep envisioning your boyfriend’s unintentionally silly voice as he said it. Either way, it works.
But it’s only temporary. Even after you’ve taken a long hot shower and put on a face mask for good measure, there’s still a growing urge to pace around the apartment and mull over everything you could’ve done better. You decide to text Jungkook.
[22:36]: are you gonna sleep there
[22:44] Koo 🐰: maybe
[22:44] Koo 🐰: why? do u need me to come back?
You suddenly feel silly, and you debate even telling him at all. Would he think you're being clingy? But you power through the bashfulness anyway; there’s no way you can sleep like this.
[22:47]: nooo stay
[22:47]: i just wanna ask
[22:47]: if i could sleep @ yours tonight :(
[22:48] Koo 🐰: mi casa es su casa
[22:49] Koo 🐰: but why tho. cuz it smells like me? lol
[22:52]: …ye :(
[22:53] Koo 🐰: oh shit i didn’t think u’d actually admit it 🤯
[22:54] Koo 🐰: i miss you too baby
[22:56]: shut UPPPP
[22:56] Koo 🐰: beep boop
You’re already packing up your electronic essentials—phone, laptop, charger—when he gives you the go-ahead. As soon as you’re in his apartment after the two-second commute, relief washes over you. His bedroom is your first destination; once you reach it, you’re immediately setting your things on the mattress and plopping your face onto his pillow. (You’d look a little crazy if someone were to see you, but whatever).
His scent feels like sunshine on your face after a season of rain. It’s not only the smell of his detergent or the lingering fragrance of his cologne. It’s him, something so wonderfully and tenderly Jungkook. You’d bottle it up and douse yourself in it if you could.
You stay in the same position on his bed until your anxiety fades from a storm into a low background noise. It’s getting late but you’re not that sleepy yet, so you pop open your laptop and put on a couple episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. The computer is set on Jungkook’s side of the bed, turned toward you, while you settle comfortably against the pillows. You fall asleep before Jake and Amy exchange their vows.
By the next time you open your eyes, the room is already filled with fresh sunlight. It’s a bad habit, but as soon as your eyes adjust to the brightness filtering in through the curtains, your hand darts out to grab your phone on the nightstand. The screen lights up to notify you of unread messages from Jungkook last night.
[00:53] Koo 🐰: u still up?
[01:21] Koo 🐰: gnite bbyyy 💜
[01:22] Koo 🐰: beep boop
It should be alarming how much the texts make you smile and butterflies erupt in your stomach. You reckon you must be grinning to yourself like an idiot for at least five minutes before you start to notice a change in your surroundings. It didn’t register when you first awoke that this isn’t your apartment, and it’s not your own bed that you’re sleeping in. The laptop is no longer sitting next to you but has been placed on the desk a few feet from where you are. There’s a heaviness weighing on your midriff, and you look to find a tattooed arm resting on your body.
Jungkook stirs to life when you turn in his loose grasp. “G’morning,” he smiles lazily at you.
“Morning,” you parrot. “What time did you get home?”
It takes a minute for him to blink the sleep away, and you’re left to marvel at him while he acclimatizes to wakefulness. Seeing his handsome face first thing in the morning isn’t something new to you, but you’re in awe every single time. With his eyes slowly blinking to adjust to the light, his lips parting to let out a yawn and soft curls falling over his eyes, it’s not a sight you think you could get tired of. There’s always an urge to spend forever with him like this.
“Like, three?” He shrugs. He pulls you closer when he notices your brows furrow in that way that lets him know you’re about to scold him. “Don’t worry, I took an Uber. Couldn’t sleep there anyway. Missed you too much.”
Gentle words of reprimand die on your tongue at his confession. There’s a stutter in the way your heart is beating, his soft morning voice sending a rush of warmth throughout your entire body. You immediately relax as you settle in his arms and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. He smells like the Downy fabric softener he always uses and he feels a lot like… love.
The mere thought has you spinning even though you’re snugly wrapped in Jungkook’s cozy embrace. Suddenly, it’s like you’ve crossed a line into something more than let’s just see where this goes, something that you haven’t known in years but somehow it doesn’t feel as scary this time. You think you know where it’s going, and the destination looks like coming home to warmth personified and a bunny smile.
You press a soft kiss into his skin as you sigh, “I missed you too, dweebus.”
⏤ as always, i would really appreciate any comments or feedback you may have :) please consider leaving a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed reading ♡
⏤ taglist (send me an ask if you wanna be tagged!): @moonchild1 @takochelle @hellojeongkook
#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts fic#bts fluff#bts angst#bts scenarios#bts x reader#jeon jungkook#fic: tongue tied
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Seven Drinks
Bucky x f!reader
Summary: There's a reason Y/N has never had more than 3 drinks around the other avengers, and they're about to find out.
Warnings: depression, thoughts of suicide, panic attacks, angst (don't worry there's fluff too)
Word Count: 4322
a/n: This is inspired by that episode of Brooklyn 99 with 6 drink Amy (I adopted that concept!) and also Halsey's album Manic. :) I hope you like it. Anything in bold is a lyric from one of the songs on the album!
Please let me know if I messed up the trigger warning tags! I've never written anything like this before, so I just want to make sure I do it right.
Masterlist
"We're having a party tonight." Tony's announcement was met with the usual groans of annoyance at having to schmooze with the typical socialites that attended Tony's party. "You know, you are so ungrateful sometimes. here I am trying to throw you a party, and you're complaining!"
"Tony, we all appreciate the effort you go to, but- at least speaking for me- I don't like people." Y/N's response was effortless, swiftly calming Tony and explaining the reactions.
"That is why-" Tony stuttered when he actually registered the words you said. "That doesn't sound like you at all. And besides, this is a party for just us. It'll be more like team building, but without any pre-planned activities. No "smarmy, rich people" to deal with." He directed his last sentence at Bucky, Steve, and Sam.
The team actually seemed excited at the prospect, albeit skeptical of Tony's motivations.
Unsurprisingly, Nat worked up the courage to question him on it first, "what's the catch?"
"No catch. Just friends, food, and lots of alcohol." His grin quickly shifted into a smirk as the entire room turned to look at you.
You groaned slightly, not wanting all the attention. "Look, there is a reason I cap myself at 3 drinks." Holding up one finger, you started to explain, "One drink Y/N is barely any different from my sober self."
Wanda quickly cut you off, "not true! You get louder." She smirked, happy to have added that tidbit of information.
"Fine." With a laugh, you admitted she was right. "I might get the tiniest bit louder." You held up a second finger to continue your explanation, but were once again cut off.
"It's not a bad thing. It's just your happy, bubbly, and slightly louder than normal personality shining through!" Nat added, seeing an opportunity to tease you for being so positive all the time.
"Thanks Nat. Anyway," emphasizing the rudeness of being interrupted twice, you continued, "two drink Y/N is more touchy feely than normal. Not in a creepy way though!"
"I love two drink Y/N. She gives the best hugs!" Thor eagerly added to the conversation, glad to have dropped by when he did.
"Thanks Thor." With a small smile in his direction, you held up a third finger. "Three drink Y/N is the perfect amount of just past tipsy to have fun without doing anything extremely embarrassing. It makes the most sense to stop there." You finished her little speech with your typical smile and a resolute nod of your head.
"Seriously, you need to relax. Just let loose this one time!" Sam tried to encourage you. With the eyes of nearly every avenger set on you, your resolve didn't last very long.
"Fine! Maybe I'll have a fourth drink." You were met with cheers as you rose from your spot on the couch, trying to prepare for the night that was to come.
--
As soon as you stepped off the elevator, you had a drink in your hand. Clearly your friends were going to make sure you got a fourth drink. even Steve seemed excited when he saw you, although his golden boy personality didn't disappear completely.
"You sure about this? I don't want you to feel pressured!" Bucky nodded, weirdly enthusiastically, before adding, "Yeah doll, don't drink more than you want to."
"You two are too sweet. Sam's right, but don't tell him I said that." You winked at the two super soldiers, emphasizing the joke. "I should let myself relax sometimes. I'm in a safe place, with friends who won't let anything happen to me. What could a few more drinks really do?" You couldn't help but smile at how true that was. You were surrounded by people who care about you.
"Oh, so now it's a few more drinks? What are we talking here, six drink Y/N? Seven?" Bucky teased.
"You'll have to wait and see, Ducky." You teased right back, knowing how flustered he got at the pet name. Steve laughed at his friend as you walked away, ready for your second drink.
--
Before long, you had your fourth drink in your hand. It was slightly odd how literally everyone was staring at you, but your were three drink Y/N at the time, so you were drunk enough not to care.
You downed the fourth drink, unprepared for the consequences.
"So, Y/N... how do you feel?" Clint braved the waters, everyone eagerly awaiting your reaction.
"That is so nice of you to ask! I feel great! I don't think I've ever been this happy." You jumped up and down, hugging Clint with a huge smile on your face.
"How did you get even happier?" Tony chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
"Do you not like it?" Like a switch had been flipped, you were nearly crying.
"What?! No!" Tony was so taken aback at the tears pooling in your eyes, he froze, unsure how to fix it. He looked around the room for help, but everyone else was just as shocked as him.
"I'll fix it!" You were at the bar, fixing another drink before anyone fully comprehended your mood swing.
You walked back up to the group, sipping from your fifth drink as if nothing happened. "What?" You questioned the odd looks, but before receiving an answer you squealed, again jumping up and down. "Let's dance!" You turned around, ready to move to the more open area before looking back over your shoulder, "Wanda! Nat! Pepper! Come on!"
The women shared a look, ultimately shrugging before joining you on the makeshift dance floor.
-
"Bucky, you've been staring at her for 20 straight minutes. When are you finally gonna talk to her?" Steve couldn't help but pester him about his feelings.
"I can't help it. I've never seen her dance so much. I mean, I know she's always happy, but this is a whole new level." He didn't take his eyes off of you, even when he was responding. "I can't tell her tonight, though. This is the most she's had to drink in years."
He watched as you moved back over to the bar, needing another drink after dancing so much.
"Here we go, six drink Y/N." Bucky gestured to the bar. Steve shook his head, but allowed the change of topic.
-
About five minutes after your sixth drink, you were somehow bounding around with even more energy. You were nearly running around the room, trying to talk to everyone at once.
"Ducky! Have I ever told you I took gymnastics lessons for 7 years when I was younger?" You were bouncing with pent up energy, excited to be sharing more information about yourself.
"No, you've actually never mentioned that." He smiled, enraptured by your childlike enthusiasm, so enraptured that he didn't notice the mischief in your eyes.
"Well, I did! Watch this." You handed a confused Bucky your now empty glass, turning and throwing your arms up. Bucky realized two late what was happening, and with both yours and his glasses in his hands, he couldn't physically stop you.
"Y/N, wait!" His shout had everyone turn and look as you flawlessly executed two cartwheels in a row.
Bucky would swear your smile got even bigger as you turned around to look at him again.
"Normally I can do more, but" you hiccuped, then lowered your voice to a really terrible whisper, "I'm a little drunk." You leaned into him, laughing as if you just told a joke.
Wanda walked up to you with a seventh drink, hoping seven drink Y/N had a little less energy, but happy to see you having so much fun. "Here ya go! One more of your favorites, just like you asked."
"Thank youuuuuu!" You shifted to hug Wanda, leaving Bucky to miss your added warmth.
-
You sipped your seventh drink slower than the rest, quickly running out of energy. Sliding the empty glass across the bar, you slipped out of the party unnoticed, making your way to the kitchen for some pickles- your favorite drunk food.
Your seventh drink hit you just after you opened the pickles. Gone was the happy, bubbly persona you showed the world. The mask slipped away, leaving you alone to contemplate your life choices.
You made your way to to the lounge just outside of the kitchen, choosing to lay on the floor behind the couch and stare out of the large floor to ceiling windows.
-
"Where's Y/N?" Bucky glanced around the room, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.
"Huh? Oh, she said she wanted a snack." A very drunk Wanda turned to look at where the food was set up, scrunching her face in confusion when she couldn't find you. "Weird. Maybe she went to the bathroom?"
Bucky, having noticed your absence 8 minutes ago, didn't think you left for a bathroom break. "Maybe." Plus, you always took the girls to the bathroom with you. His eyes flitted about the room, taking one more glance before deciding to go look for you.
He decided to head for the kitchen since Wanda said you wanted a snack. He laughed at the open jar of pickles, knowing you at least passed through this room. He put the pickles away before popping his head into the lounge area.
"Y/N?" He called out, figuring this was the most likely location for you to end up.
You hummed in response, not moving from your spot on the floor. Bucky walked further into the room, slightly confused as to why he could hear you but not see you. That is, until he realized you were laying on the floor behind the couch.
"Why are you on the floor?" He smiled when he found you.
"I'm just looking at the sky." Your voice held a melancholy air as it floated through the room. Bucky's smile faltered, not used to hearing you sad. In the three years he's known you, he's only ever seen you sad because of a movie or tv show. Otherwise, you were quite literally always happy.
"Why-" he faltered, unsure how to check on you. "Is everything okay?" he nearly choked the words out, feeling slightly stressed at your sudden gloominess.
"Yeah." You took a deep breath, slowly letting it out in a deep sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... I don't know." You sigh again, still looking at the sky.
Bucky chances another question, wanting to get you talking since you're acting so off. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel... so sorry." You words were so soft that Bucky could barely hear them.
"Sorry?" He tried to hide his confusion, matching your soft tone as he sat down a few feet away from you. "About what doll?"
"Just... because I feel so sad." Tears pooled in your eyes, but you didn't stop staring at the sky.
"What are you sad about?" It's taking everything in him for Bucky not to hold you right now. He doesn't want to make you even more upset, especially because he's never seen you like this.
"No one around me knows who I am..." He watched as a tear rolled down your cheek, shining in the light from the moon.
Bucky moves closer, just close enough for him to reach out and hold your hand. You squeeze it, instant relief flooding through him that he hasn't crossed any boundaries.
He goes to speak, but you cut him off. "I'm not breaking. I won't take it. And I won't ever feel this way again." Your voice is harder, as if your angry with yourself.
"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay to have feelings. You're allowed to feel like this. Don't push it away. Talk to me. Why don't you think anyone knows who you are? We're all here for you, Y/N." He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, trying to convey how serious he is.
You let out a dry laugh, wiping the the tears from your cheek. "My self preservation..." Bucky can tell there's more to, choosing to wait for you to continue. "All of my reservations..." You sigh again, sitting up, you scoot closer until you can lean your forehead against his shoulder. "I bottle it up. I'm my own biggest enemy." You let out another dry laugh, shaking your head without moving it from its resting place on Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky wraps his arm around you and leans his cheek against your head. "Take your time. You can talk to me." He whispered, trying to keep you talking without getting mad at yourself again.
"Well, I'd like to tell you that my sky is not blue, it's violent rain." The sounds of your sniffles break his heart. "I just pretend everything's fine because that's what I had to do when I was younger." Rather then interrupting, Bucky continues to rub small circles on your hand and your back, encouraging you to continue when you're ready. "Can I tell you a story? I... I think it'll help explain some of it."
"Of course. Anything you need, doll." He curses himself for the pet name, not wanting you to think he's joking. He just can't help it when it comes to you.
"Thank you, ducky." You chuckle, but your words are just as sincere as his. "You know I have two sisters, and I love them with all my heart, but sometimes growing up with them was hard. My older sister, she put so much pressure on herself to succeed. And, she did. She was so good at everything she did, that I felt like I had to be just as perfect.
With my younger sister, it was like it was effortless. She put just as much, if not more pressure on herself. but, she could do anything she tried to, with almost no learning curve. I always felt this crazy amount of pressure to be just as good.
My parents, they didn't really help with that. I mean, they were so supportive and I'm so grateful to them, but it was a lot of pressure. The summer between my junior and senior year of college, I wanted to get an internship. Ya know, to get some experience. It would set me up better for getting a job after graduation.
I spent months looking and applying, but nothing was working out. So, I went home for the summer. My mom would come home everyday and ask me if I got a job yet.
I spent nearly every waking hour looking for a job, even just a part time one for the summer. So one day, when we sat down for dinner and she asked if I got a job yet..."
Bucky could feel how tense you were telling this story, but he knew you needed to get it out.
"I told her, 'no, not yet' and she just seemed so disappointed. She asked if I was even applying and I snapped.
I yelled at her, something that had never really happened before. I told her I was trying. I was doing everything I could. She yelled at me for yelling and said it wasn't unreasonable to ask for updates.
I yelled right back. I kept saying I spend all day everyday trying and just when I finally get a break, she walks in and brings it all up again. I was stressed enough without her constant reminders.
I ended up running away from the table, in tears. I hid in the bathroom, there... there was a pair of scissors on the counter and I really thought about killing myself that day."
The tears are pouring out of you at this point. Bucky threw caution to the wind. He picked you up, maneuvering you to sit across his lap and lean your head on his chest. He kept rubbing circles into your back, murmuring words of encouragement.
"My younger sister tried to check on me, but I wouldn't open the door. My mom stomped down the hallway to her bedroom. I was full on having a panic attack in the hallway bathroom. I think I stayed in there for an hour before I went back to the dinner table.
My dad was in the kitchen. He put my plate in the microwave to heat up dinner for me. I ate through near constant tears, it only got worse every time he tried to ask me what happened. Why I snapped like that.
I wanted to apologize to my mom for yelling, so after I ate I went to her room. I knocked, and when she told me to come in I opened the door. I just remember her looking so angry.
I apologized. I told her I was sorry for yelling. She said something about not being unreasonable again. I cried again. When she asked what was wrong, I told her I was scared.
I couldn't put it into words though, so when she asked me 'of what?' I just shrugged. Then, she asked me if I was on my period.
God. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell at her again, To make her understand 'I only wanna die some days. But if I decide to break, who will fill the empty space?' I decided that day that I would never try to tell anyone how I actually felt."
Bucky holds you as you cry. You're not sure how long it's been when you can finally breathe enough to talk again.
"I just, so many people have bigger problems then me. I grew up in a loving household. I went to college and made friends. I got a job after I graduated. So why am I so sad sometimes? I just wanna scream but what’s the use? At night, I lay awake and I stare at the door, I just can’t take it no more."
Bucky continues comforting you when he speaks again. "Just because other people have problems, doesn't mean yours are irrelevant. You are 100% allowed to feel however you feel, even if it seems like there's no reason for it. Have you ever thought about talking to someone about all of this? I know you just said you haven't told anyone how you actually feel for years, but I think it could help." He smiled nervously when you raised your head to look at him.
"I have actually. I joked about it a lot with my roommate right out of college. I always used to say 'everybody needs therapy' as a joke. Of course, I meant it. Most people probably do need therapy." You laughed, moving your arms around Bucky's neck to hug him. "Thank you for listening to me. I like talking to you."
Of course, Bucky noticed your smile didn't reach your eyes. He was confident in his words when he spoke again. "You can always talk to me. I'll always be there to listen." He followed that with a less confident "What's been bothering you today?"
"Oh, nothing that serious. It's just all pent up inside, ya know?" You smiled again, hiding your face so he couldn't see your lies.
Of course, he could still hear it in your voice. "Y/N, you can tell me. I want to be here for you."
"I... It's just, my insecurities are hurting me." You laughed at yourself. "Here we go with the fucking riddles, again. On the plus side, I think I've cried so much I'm back to one drink Y/N."
"Well, it has been 3 hours since I left to come find you." You were grateful for Bucky's joke, needing something to lift the mood a bit. "But, don't try and change the subject. I still want to know what's got you all sad." His words were light, but you knew how serious he was.
You took a deep breath, burying your head in his neck. "How could somebody ever love me?" You spoke into his shirt, not moving your head back even an inch.
"You know I can't understand you when you talk into my neck like that." Bucky tried joking, but even he knew it would do little to calm your fears.
You moved back, lips still grazing his skin when you repeated yourself, "how could somebody ever love me?"
Bucky wanted to scream. He wanted to tell you how much he loves you. He would gladly spend every day of his life loving you, but he didn't think this was the right time. Not when you just poured your heart out to him. So he settled for the almost truth.
"Anyone would be lucky to love you. You are selfless. You put everyone else first, no matter what. You always make sure everyone has a reason to smile, even when things aren't going right. You tell the best jokes. You're great at cuddling." He squeezes you closer to him, emphasizing the point. "You are beautiful, inside and out. Everyone who comes into contact with you automatically has a better day. You are incredibly strong and independent. I've never met anyone so incredibly good. Even Steve. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."
His words brought more tears to your eyes, pooling in the corners. "Then how come everyone that I’ve dated says they hate it cause they don’t know what to do with me? I feel broken."
"They were all idiots. You're not broken. Not even a little bit. You're learning how to express your feelings. You just need someone who would take it slow." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, struggling not to tell you everything.
"I wonder if you’d take it slow." Your eyes go wide when that slips out. You hadn't meant to make things uncomfortable. One look at Bucky's face has you freaking out. He looks stunned. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out! Oh god, you've been there for me all night and I go and fuck it up by admitting I'm in love with you."
Your eyes grow even larger. You would move out of his lap, but his arms are still holding you in place. "Shit! Maybe I'm still drunk because apparently I have no filter." You say the last part more to yourself, but he can still hear you.
"Y/N?" Your name comes out of his mouth in a soft whisper.
"Yes?" You cringe internally at messing everything up.
"I would take it slow." He smiles, leaning his forehead against yours while he waits for you to absorb his words.
"Yeah?" You whisper back, a smile ghosting your lips.
"Yeah." You both lean in, exchanging soft, slow kisses and sleepy smiles.
--
The two of you ended up falling asleep leaning against the back of the couch. The sun streaming through the windows, combined with the noise of the other avengers in the kitchen, wakes you up.
You nudge Bucky, grinning when he pulls you closer.
"C'mon. Let's get some breakfast." He groans again, but eventually stands up.
The two of you walk into the nearly full kitchen, surprising everyone by coming from the lounge rather than the elevators. They share amused expressions, unaware of the emotional hurdles you jumped last night.
You head right for Sam, hugging him tightly before moving on to hug everyone else.
"I just wanted to thank you all. For encouraging me to live a little last night, but also for being there for me." Tears spring to your eyes again, shocking everyone but Bucky. "You're all like a family to me and I'm so glad I have you all to lean on." You made your way back to Bucky, leaning into his side while he poured both of you some cereal.
You smile when you look at him, kissing his cheek before sliding into the stool next to his.
As if broken out of a day dream, Sam sputters out a question. "What the hell did seven drink Y/N do last night?" Thrown off both by your behaviour with Bucky and the short emotional speech.
"Oh, seven drink Y/N is an emotional little bitch. I think I cried eight years of suppressed tears." You laughed, grinning at Bucky when he squeezed your hand. "Also, I think I need a therapist." Your casual admission has Tony spitting out his breakfast.
"What the hell happened last night after you disappeared from the party?" He guffaws, trying to put the pieces together.
"Also, why aren't you even a little bit hungover?" Nat chimed in, upset at missing out on seeing you anything but cheery.
"Well, to answer Nat first, I don't get hungover. Never have, even the one time I blackout out." You shrugged at everyone's slightly jealous expressions. "To answer Tony, I had an emotional breakthrough. Bucky helped me talk through it, something I never thought I'd be able to do. Long story short, i'm going to learn how to share my feelings instead of suppressing them all."
"Suppressing them? What are you talking about? I've literally never felt anything but happiness from you before?" Wanda questioned the new development.
"Well, that's because I'm really good at hiding how I feel. I'd rather not go through it all again, so just watch the security footage from the lounge last night, yeah? I want you all to know, even if it took seven drink Y/N to share it." You quickly finished eating, pulling Bucky to the doorway.
"While you do that, we're going out. Bye!" Before they could question anything else, you ran to the elevator, dragging a very willing Bucky behind you.
"We're going out?" He questioned when the elevator doors shut.
"Yep. Get dressed, I want to see all your favorite places in New York. Even if they're different now. Take me to all your favorite spots." You both smiled, sharing another soft kiss before parting to change for the day.
"Hey," Bucky called, causing you to turn over your shoulder, "I love you."
"I love you too."
#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes one shot#tw: suicide#tw: depression#tw: panic attack
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One of Those Nights
@ficsandgiggles You deserve a cheer up, so I hope with all my heart this makes you smile.
Description: You’re struggling with the weight of sadness tonight, but the women who know you and love you are determined to find your smile.
It was one of those nights. You know you’ve made progress and had just hit some real milestones in life. You just found a new place, graduated, started a new job, and yet...there was this impending sense that either it wouldn’t last or that you’d be stuck on a plateau of mediocracy. Or something of the like. You weren’t totally sure.
All you knew now is you lay staring at the ceiling for long enough that you weren’t sure when the tears stopped or started. You knew who you wanted around, but you didn’t want to bother any of them. You’d met Natasha, Yelena and Wanda at a small concert a while back, connecting immediately in your passion for the band that changed your life, as well as some other common interests. You and Wanda both loved sharing TV shows with one another and bingeing them together. Nat loved that you could bounce sarcasm off of one another and how you loved to go on little adventures just exploring the world. And you and Yelena loved getting into heated discussions about the other Avengers, Nat’s poser status, and various other comic book and cultural icons.
And yet when the phone rang with Natasha’s name flashing across the screen, you almost jumped out of your skin. You debated answering for about five rings before you finally decided to, knowing she would bust in with her gun drawn if she thought anything had happened to you.
“Hey,” You answered flatly, trying to hide any emotion.
“Aren’t we going to London this evening to explore some sights?” The ex-spy asked, noting but not calling attention to your tone.
You froze where you stood, “I...don’t know. I didn’t realize that was today.” You stammered for a moment, “I think I’m just tired from work,” you brushed it off.
Nat hummed, “Why don’t I swing by till you’re too tired to have me round?”
You pondered before saying, “Yeah I guess that would be alright.”
“Alright, I’ll be there in 30.” She said and promptly hung up.
You bit your lip, both grateful for the distraction and concerned you’d be a burden. Little did you know the resourceful redheaded had also managed to round up her little sister and favorite witch, hop a bus and appear at your door faster than a takeaway pizza. When you opened your door to find all three of them, you were more than surprised but too overwhelmed to react.
Wanda stepped in first and hugged you immediately, “Nattie said she was swinging by when we checked in to see her plans for the evening and we missed you-”
“So we tagged along,” Yelena finished, popping in right behind Wanda and tussling your hair as Wanda began to let you go. You realize she’s got a bag in her other hand.
Your mouth stood agape at Nat, whose lips simply turned up ever so slightly at corners as she shrugged and stepped where Wanda just was, hugging you tight. “I figured a girl’s movie night might do you some good and help you sleep for work.”
You nod, “Thank..you. You guys... are amazing.”
Wanda smiled softly, “Brooklyn 99 for you tonight?” She mused. Your eyes went wide as you nodded, almost smiling. Yelena set all your favorite snacks across the counter, unearthing them from the bag she’d been holding. Nat raised her eyebrow, “You really didn’t smile over B99? And your Rosa? Well that’s going to need some fixing, because with y/n that means your check engine light is on.” She playfully booped your nose before pulling you to her side and plopping on the couch. Wanda sat on your other side and Yelena filled the remaining spot, cuddling in, which ended up shifting you to sit basically in Nat and Wanda’s laps.
Wanda played with your hair softly, “I like this color in your hair,” she mused, commenting on your latest color change. Nat nodded, “I agree, but her smile needs finding. I think the button is hidden again.” She teased as you tensed, knowing what was coming, “Nono, Nat, it’s fine. I’m fine!” You protest, your voice going up an octave as you tried to keep your cool.
Her smirk only widened, but it was Yelena who actually made the first move, “Smile button? What is that and where would it be?” She prodded at your belly and ribs, but you couldn’t tell if she knew the game Nat was playing or not as her attempts to examine you seemed semi-genuine within the playful tone. She hit just above your hip before you let out a squeak, and her eyebrows raised in surprise, “I didn’t know she had a squeak button,” the blonde chuckled.
Nat broke into a devilish grin, “Oh, she has giggle and smile and squeak buttons,” said the redhead as she began wiggling her fingers above you as you shrunk away, doing all you could not to smile or giggle. But Wanda’s red whisp fingers began coming toward you too, and Yelena’s hands joined them. You suddenly had two sets of fingers kneading into your ribs, two magical hands fluttering into your belly, and two strong hands squeezing into your thighs.
“NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” You shrieked and fell into a fit of giggles, unable to take this many tickles with a poker face as you tried to wiggle away.
Wanda was the one two smirk now, “Magic word with this little one is just, ‘Tickle,’” she teased, nudging Yelena.
“Tickle? Why tickle?” Yelena asked as you began squirming.
“Nohoho stohop sayhing thahat!” You blurt.
Yelena exchanged mischievous looks with the other two women whose faces also showed nothing but mirth. Nat teased you, tracing and skittering over your ribs only to suddenly drill her thumbs in with just enough pressure to get you arching your back.
“NAHAHA RIHIHIBS!” You shriek.
“Ha, I got her good!”
Wanda used that opportuning to slip her spidering fingers under your shirt and flutter along your lower belly and waistline, sending you into another octave of laughter.
“GAHAHAH WAHAHAAHAN!”
Wanda smirked, “Ha, she’s begging me to stop.”
Yelena frowned, “Hey, no fair!” She looked you over before raising an eyebrow and deciding to drive her thumbs right into your hips, which sent you into the highest octave of laughter, “NAHAHA AHAHANYWHEHEHERE BUHUHUT THEHEHERE!”
The blonde smirked, “Ha, I win.”
Wanda and Nat roll their eyes fondly at Yelena’s victory smile as they all let you go before you went into silent laughter. You can’t stop smiling as you giggle quietly, now you’re practically laying across the three of them. Nat runs her fingers through your hair and Wanda rubs your back, Yelena tracing affectionate shapes on the side of your leg.
“I think we fixed her smile, and that’s what counts,” Nat smiles down at you fondly and you blush, “Thank you guys...for everything.”
“I had fun,” Yelena said bluntly with an impish grin.
Wanda chuckled, “Anytime, little one.” She cooed as she raked her nails soothingly up and down your back.
And that night, you fell asleep with your smile feeling loved and protected by a sisterhood you’ve only dreamt could be reality.
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smoke and fire (11)
word count; 12,58
summary; following the tragic events of your last call, Vince has given the team a few days off, covered by other shift rotations, and coping alone can be hard.
notes; prepare for a few tears, but a lot of smiling and blushing.
warnings; reference to death, mentions of a funeral service, mentions of panic attacks, reference to injury, fire & arson.
The first tear fell the second your front door closed behind you. It was like a weight had been sitting on your chest, crushing you slowly for hours, from the very second you’d woken up this morning.
It had all been numb, seeming detached from who you really were, meeting members of Chuck’s family, introducing yourself, answering questions from the medical side of it all as they all stood confused as to what had happened to their son, and having to remind yourself on a mantra that you hadn't been at blame, as the unwarranted guilt threatened to topple over you at any given moment.
A beautiful ceremony of life, words that made the back of your throat sting as you sat in the church pews and listened to tributes, and the slight smudge of mascara under your eyes that you’d tried to clean up as your eyes watered, but you’d held strong throughout the entirety of the funeral. The dress sticking to your body felt too tight, like it was clinging to every inch of your skin, pushing in on you and crushing you from the outside.
He’d had a fireman’s funeral, the team deciding that despite never getting the chance to pass his exams, he would be sent off the proper way, and Vince had offered no argument. The morning started at the firehouse, nine o’clock sharp, the lights on the van flashing silently with the sirens turned off. The hurst had guided the pathway, lines of firemen along the edges of the cemetery as his family had arrived, and Newt’s hand had found your own to squeeze tightly as the black car had rolled to a stop.
His father, his uncle, his brother, a childhood friend, his best friend, and Thomas. Those six men carried the wooden box holding your friend to the front of the church for the gathering, respectful and calm, his mother offering a speech dedicated to the team, and you’d almost broken on the spot. There was something mentioned about all of you, about how proud Chuck made them all every day, and how much he loved what he did. Apparently, he spoke about you all to his family, at every chance he got. You felt like they were an extension of the team by the end of it.
Your social battery was drained; the simple small talk and polite exchanges you’d shared with everyone, but it had been overwhelming. You were no stranger to funerals or death, but you’d never lost someone so close to you before. It was utterly terrifying, to care so deeply for a group of people, to allow your walls to come down and let them in, only for the ever-looming threat of losing them to always be hanging over your head, and yet, somehow, it only made you stronger.
You suspected Chuck himself had something to do with that.
You’d placed a rose the same shade of red as the fire engines down on the top of his coffin, and whispered your thanks to him, for being your first friend in firehouse ‘21. You wouldn’t be who you were without him, you weren’t even sure whether you would have been able to stick it out there without his support, and without him, you certainly wouldn’t have the family you did today. You had him to thank for all of it, and you’d never be able to repay him.
You were invited out with them all, the family had booked a small conference room to go to, to share memories and chat, but the idea of it seemed like it might throw you over the edge, and you didn’t feel like having any more public breakdowns for a while. Your team had seen enough of you crying in recent weeks, and you felt like you’d done enough of that. You knew that Chuck wouldn’t want you to cry, he’d want you to make a cup of herbal tea - something stolen from Gally - and to watch a movie with Adam Sandler in or a rerun of Brooklyn 99, and he’d want you to smile, because that’s what he’d encouraged every other time you’d been sad.
He had never wanted anyone to do anything but smile, he was a ray of pure sunshine, warm and friendly and enough to light up any room or mood. You’d been sure to tell his mother that, and she’d held you in a tight hug that left you feeling weak, like you were being pulled down to the ground, the emotions overwhelming.
And so, you’d denied their request to join them as respectfully as you could, because you didn’t want to mourn surrounded by people. You didn’t want to do your mourning in a formal black dress that was smart enough for the occasion and heels that made your feet ache, watching as Newt pulled at the collar of his dress shirt, and the rest of your team wander around in the formal firemen’s uniform that was usually reserved for special occasions with a happier undertone, breaching on being tarnished, and you wouldn't let that happen.
So, you’d driven yourself home, eyes blurring a little and the clock tickling just past midday before the dam finally broke and you were slamming the front door shut a little harder than necessary. One gasping breath as you stood still, a second to follow, and then you were kicking off your shoes. The tears fell freely, hot and salty and unending as you sobbed, shoes abandoned and soles aching as you reached up to try and roughly jerk the zipper on the back of your dress down.
As you peeled it away from your body, you felt like you could breathe again, the pressure having been the opposite of soothing and you worry you were going to tear it in your haste to get it gone. It was chucked across the room, haphazardly into the laundry basket in the corner, and your stockings did rip as you tried to shed them from your skin. Elegant and professional, your appearance had been perfect, but you had felt the opposite. You felt broken, damaged and wounded and messy, like your emotions and inner feelings were leaking out for everyone to see, your deepest and darkest fears on display to be gawked at, your innermost worries open for public viewing.
It was a churning pool in your stomach, one that chilled you from the core, blood running cold in your veins, and you shivered a little. The smell of your perfume felt wrong where it lingered on the air from where you had sprayed it before, and you collapsed down in the seat at your dresser, hating the face that was staring back at you in the mirror.
It was wrong, you looked so professional, pointed eyeliner and a flick of lipstick, more makeup than you’d worn in a long time, but it was a mask, a shield to hide behind as you put up your defences against the pain you were experiencing, armour to wear to hold the pain at bay for long enough, but now it felt heavy. You grabbed for a makeup wipe, two coming loose and then a third, before you were scrubbing at your face. Flawless skin and artful designs were scrubbed away, your flesh blotchy underneath and flushed from the day’s events already, and it was only growing sorer as you scrubbed your skin clean.
The tears kept running, silent and slow as they flowed, and you struggled to even find the strength to push yourself back to standing up. The cold air in your apartment made you shiver, the simple but comfortable underwear was already feeling uncomfortable on your skin, everything did, now. Your fingers were shaking as they turned on the tap, trembling as you washed your face free of any remaining grime until you felt fresh, and you managed to get a handle on your tears.
They stopped somewhere between brushing your hair up out of your face and rubbing some moisturising cream onto the skin that was red and raw from salty tears. Tugging on your sweats and rolling them at the ankle away from your feet. Unclipping the bra from behind your back, it felt like the final restricting garment that was binding you to the pain of the day. It was left dropped to the floor, alongside torn stockings, kicked into the corner. You were fishing out a long-sleeved shirt from your dresser, the comfortable maroon coloured one with the hole in one sleeve for your thumb to slip through, when there was a knock at the door.
Nothing too startling, it wasn’t too quiet with the traffic outside, neither was it dark as light poured in from the sun outside, but you were one edge, and so the sudden intrusion on your quiet was shocking. Tugging the fabric over your head as you walked, and adjusting it across your front, you stuck your thumb through the hole and wiggled your fingers a little to grow comfortable, before you were opening the front door.
You were a little surprised to see who was on the other side. You had expected a neighbour, possibly the grumpy woman that lived a floor below, but you hadn't expected the towering frame of a familiar firefighter. He’d changed too, smart navy uniform swapped out for some jeans and an oversized jumper that would make him look smaller than he was if it wasn’t for broad shoulders and tall stature you knew lived underneath. Soft brown hair was freed from a white cap, and his face held equally as much sorrow as yours did.
“Thomas.. what are you doing here? How did you even know..?”
“I remembered. From the night we went to the vets. You pointed out which window was yours, I counted the floors, and tried to work it out. The resident two doors down told me where to find you.” Pink tinged his cheeks at the confession, and you laughed lightly, his hands rubbing together as he moved to stand up fully from where he’d been leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. “I thought you might need a friend right now.”
“You didn’t want to go to the little get together his family arranged?”
“Absolutely not.” He grimaced, shoulders sagging a little more. “I loved Chuck, I did, but I don’t think he’d be mad at me for not being able to handle another few hours of his crying relatives looking at me like I was the one who failed them, because I was supposed to be his lieutenant.”
“You’re not allowed to blame yourself if I’m not.” You whispered, his eyes sparkling a little in amusement as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, before his gaze was dropping down again.
“Look, I know my presence is unannounced, and that I am crossing all kinds of boundaries right now, but you were the first person I thought of when I got home and started feeling alone, and so I got changed and drove here without really thinking about it. I know it’s wrong, and you probably need time for yourself, and so I can go if you want me to, b-”
“Don’t go.”
He let out a relieved sound as you cut off his rambling, rubbing a hand over his forehead, and daring to look you in the eye. “Are you sure? I mean, my company right now, are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure about ninety-nine percent of the things going on in my life right now, but I’m pretty sure you’re one thing I’m absolutely certain of.” He smiled a little at your words, something soft and adoring flickering over his features, and he held his arms out a little wider for you.
“C’mere, sweetheart.”
You didn’t wait, letting yourself topple forwards into his grip as your hold on the door to keep you steady and upright in your weakened state moved to him, letting him support you as your arms wrapped around his neck, his around your waist to pull you flush up to his body for support, and you felt like you’d finally found your comfort as his warm breath washed over your cheek, before his face was burying in your neck, and a sweet kiss was being pressed to the skin there briefly.
His hands dipped a little lower, no doubt feeling you tremble against his hold, knees buckling as you relinquished the last of your self-control and stability to him, to hook under your ass, and lift you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him hold you a little tighter as he stepped blindly into your apartment, kicking the door shut and leaning back against it as he held you, and the presence of wet tears and muffled sniffles against your shoulder wasn’t missed.
You raised a hand, brushing through his hair gently, and taking the time to comfort him this time. You pressed a kiss to his temple, and again, before squeezing yourself around him a little tighter and letting him reciprocate the actions in silent acknowledgement of your comfort, as he let himself break down now he was behind closed doors, much like you had.
Your feet slipped back to the floor a few minutes later, when his heart had slowed and breathing calmed, and the moment of insure weakness had passed, leaving you to lean against him, staring up at red-rimmed eyes as his hands rubbed circles onto your hips, silence being all that was needed.
“Thanks for letting me in.”
“Thanks for coming over.” Your words were barely even audible, shared into the space between you both, and he nodded his head, licking over dry lips, and clearing his throat slightly.
“It was really no trouble. Like, at all.” You smiled, forehead bumping against his chin as you leaned forward, before your cheek was pressing to his shoulder, and his arms were circling more fully around you for the hushed conversation. “I was hoping you’d let me take you to lunch, or something? We could hang out, try not to think about it all for a few hours.”
“God, it is lunchtime, isn’t it?” You rubbed at your eyes, gaze flickering to the clock on the wall overhead the open-plan kitchen counter. “I haven’t even had breakfast, yet, I felt too nauseous this morning to even consider eating something.”
“You’ve not eaten yet?” He pulled back a little further, his hands coming up to sit over your jaw, allowing his thumbs to sweep gently over your cheeks as he directed your eyes back to meet his own, and you shrugged, a smile on your lips.
“Oh, c’mon, Tommy. It’s not exactly anything new for us to miss meals in our line of work. I swear, that siren waits until I make something to eat to ring.” He chuckled, nodding his head, before pulling you forwards to press a kiss to your forehead, your hands bunching up in the fabric of his jumper around his waist, holding onto him tightly and hoping it conveyed what you couldn't say with words, a silent offering in gratitude for simply having his presence. “My body would probably be more shocked at a regular eating and sleeping schedule than it would one missed meal and a day without needing to nap to get through it.”
“Well, I guess we’d better start with breakfast, then.”
“You haven’t had breakfast?” You questioned, hopping up onto one of the bar stools beside the kitchen counter, and you watched with some form of amusement as Thomas moved across the room to open your fridge, clearly making himself comfortably at home in your home as he rooted through the contents.
“No, I’ve had breakfast.” He hummed, beginning to pull things out and stack them on the counter. “Well, kinda’. I picked up coffee on the way to the.. on the way, and I got a couple of muffins to go, too.”
“Muffins do not count. I bet they were chocolate chip ones, too.”
“Only one of them was chocolate chip!” He defended himself, the fridge rattling a little as the door closed and he turned to stare at you from the other side of the counter, eyes narrowing a little, before a teasing smirk was appearing on his face once again. “They only had one chocolate one left, the other was blueberry, which is fruit, so it’s basically like eating an apple.”
“You’re so full of shit, I can’t even begin to tell you how wrong that is, and how unhealthy that is, for a lieutenant of a fire station, no less.”
“Yeah, well, I have to live life a little unhealthily. If I didn’t how would I get cute paramedics to fuss over me?” He winked, the moment slipping away from you both for just a second as you gaped at him, feeling a warm blush race over your skin to find a home on your cheeks, and he chuckled to himself cheekily at his ability to make you so flustered, your eyes rolling but it was out of fondness as your head dipped. “So, pancakes? I’m really good at making pancakes.”
“You sure? Something about you just screams ‘I-cannot-cook-for-shit’.”
“I take that as a raging insult. I’m an excellent chef. An excellent and usually healthy chef, actually. I mean, I’m a lieutenant at a fire station, I’ve gotta’ stay in shape.” You scoffed, your words used against you again, and your eyes trailed along broad shoulders and arms for a second, taking in the muscles you knew to exist there that were hidden under a baggy jumper. “Are you checking me out right now?”
“No.”
“You totally are, you’re checking me out.” He gasped the words, reaching up to grab at his pecs like a woman would grab her tits, and you grinned at his actions, lips pursed together to try and contain it as your heels ached, and his jaw dropped, as though he was utterly modified and disgusted at the idea. “I feel so violated right now. Take your eyes off of me, this is disrespectful, my eyes are up here, you know.” He pointed up to his face, and you raised a brow, hopping down from your seat to around the counter, his gaze following you as you moved past him.
Pressing the button on the small countertop coffee machine and placing a mug underneath, you turned back to him, hands wrapping around his wrist to bring them down, your eyes dragging purposefully slowly over his chest, up to his face, and he there was a more serious look on his face as you did this time. Leaning up a little, his breathing hitched, eyes fluttering to sit hooded as he leaned in enough to bump his nose against your own, and you let out a breathy laugh. “It ain’t nothing I haven’t already seen, big boy.”
You pulled back, laughing at the shocked look on his face as he blinked to clear his mind, and you turned away to face the coffee machine, the man behind you stuttering a little bit. “You little tease.”
“Not a tease, maybe I’m just playing hard to get.”
You replaced the mug, making him a freshly brewed coffee too as soon as yours was finished, and Thomas was rooting through your cupboards to find the equipment he wanted. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or excited. Insulted, because, after all we’ve been through, I figured I’d at least have a place in the runnings, but excited, because you just admitted that I at least have a shot.”
“I thought you already knew you did.” You blew the steam from your coffee mug gently, and he found the mixing jugs he was looking for, his eyes twinkling a little as he glanced at you, turning back to the pile of ingredients he had made.
“Yeah, maybe, but it’s nice to hear you say it.”
“Hm.” You took a sip, settling yourself back in your seat, and watched as he began to crack eggs, clearly working on mental estimates rather than an actual recipe as he created a batter. “Well, for the record, you have a really great shot. Good ranking in the runnings, or whatever. Go for the gold.”
“Are you my top prize?”
“I could be.” You tried to convince yourself the blush on your cheeks was simply a bodily reaction to the heat steaming from the mug.
“Then I’m in it to win.”
“I hope so.” You whispered, the coffee machine beeping again as another cycle came to an end, and you nodded towards it, letting the moment be carried away, left on a high note, and not allowing yourself to overthink it or start to become doubtful of your decisions. “That coffee is for you, I made you a cappuccino.”
“I love cappuccinos.”
“I know, you like the foam on top so you can lick it off your upper lip.” He paused, glancing up at you, something you were unfamiliar with flickering across his features, before he was nodding his head.
He didn’t say anything, and for a second, you worried you had messed up somehow, that you’d done something wrong or freaked him out, or made an error, but you were certain you were right, you remembered Thomas telling you about his love for the frothy drink a few months ago when the station coffee machine had broke and you’d all had to make coffee from a kettle, and you’d seen him lick the froth from his upper lip with a grin every time he had one of the drink, when he thought nobody was looking, and he could be a child again for just a few seconds.
Then, though, you caught sight of the smile he was trying to hide, the way his face was lit up a little as he stared into the recipe, beating the eggs with a fork, a variety of other utensils laid out before him. He turned, placing a pan over the hob and starting it up on it’s lowest flame, before dropping a large wedge of butter into the pan to start melting, the lump sliding across the metal surface slowly as it began to heat up.
“So, these pancakes might be a little off. I normally use protein powder instead of flour, so, go easy on me.”
He added a large scoop of flour to the mix, milk being splashed in by eye-measurement only and some butter added, the pan popping a little behind him as it heated up, and you raised a single and slightly judgey brow at the unusual mix of quantities he was adding before mixing it. It seemed to work out for him, because somewhere along the line, it had formed a decent batter, and he was scooping out enough to slowly drop into the pan.
It sizzled at it cooked, his back to you as he worked at the hob, and you twisted a little more in your seat, facing forwards to the counter and resting your elbows on it, to be able to balance your chin on the top of your hands. Scanning your eyes over Thomas slowly, your cheeks flushed with heat a little as you realised you were very definitely checking him out, but you couldn’t help it.
His broad shoulders couldn't be hidden, no matter how big his jumper was, filling his frame widely. The muscles of his back became evident occasionally as he moved, the soft cotton of his jumper pressing to them but never becoming stained, and he’d rolled his sleeves up to cook as butter and oil in the pan popped, the veins along his forearms becoming a little more prominent each time he flipped a pancake over, or served it up onto a plate.
He was humming a song to himself, hips swaying a little as he occasionally mumbled a word or two, barley even audible to you as you listened in and you didn’t recognise the song but it sounded like something that would have been made in the 70s, your lips sneaking up into a soft smile. It was unusually domestic, it had been years since you’d ever had anyone to cook for in your own home, and you couldn't remember ever having anyone cook for you.
Well, bar when you’d been living at home, and a child, but that didn't count.
You weren’t blind to how attractive Thomas was; he was attractive in a beautiful kind of way. Soft chocolate-coloured locks and golden eyes that seemed to change shade with his mood, skin imperfect with constellations of pretty moles that only made him seem more like a piece of art. Of course, being the lieutenant of a firehouse team had its perks, he was often fitting in workouts at the firehouse on slow days between calls and you’d seen the stretch of his shirt across biceps and lean pectorals, and you’d been caught staring when he had comforted you after Chuck’s death. You’d been close enough to him so many times now that you were no stranger to the hard muscle under his clothes and soft but warm skin to cover it, or the long fingers on calloused palms that often found their way to you.
You’d just never really allowed yourself to be affected by any of it before now, putting up walls meant shutting out anything that might cause you to connect to someone, including physical attraction. Now, though, you’d been forced to take those walls down. You were happy about it, even if you weren’t happy today, but it meant noticing the more intimate things. It meant you noticed the scar on the side of his nose, almost indistinguishable until you’d been allowed close enough to see it, or the way the moles on his face continued all the way down along his flesh, but were more heavily grouped on his left side.
He turned, a plate for both of you in hand as the heat had been turned off, pan sitting there to cool, and he wandered over, pushing the condiments he’d assembled from your cupboards into the middle of the table, and you chuckled at the small collection of fruits he’d chopped on a separate plate; strawberries and apples, all you had, but he’d slipped something healthy in there.
“You want me to get the cutlery?”
“I found it. Third drawer across from the fridge.” He smiled, turning, and grabbing a matching set of knives and forks for each of you, before settling himself on the opposite side of the kitchen island, and you were already reaching for the syrup as he placed a piece of apple into his mouth, a satisfyingly loud crunch sounding out as he chewed it. Grabbing the knife and fork from the counter, your hands hovered over the plates, holding in mid-air before your first cut, and you could feel Thomas’ eyes on you. “Is it okay? I can make something else.”
“It’s perfect. Nobody has ever really cooked for me before.”
“You and Fry cook at the house all the time! He’s always making you meals.” He looked confused, brows pulling together and he sliced off a piece of pancake, stabbing it through a strawberry and sweeping it through some syrup, before chewing happily, and waiting for you to explain.
“No, that’s different. I mean, nobody has ever cooked for me before. Just made me food, in my own kitchen, for the sake of it. When I cook with Fry at the firehouse, that's cool, but we’re making lunch for everyone and he’s testing recipes. This is different. You didn’t have to come over and see me, or cook for me, or comfort me, but here you are.”
“Here I am.” He whispered, a sweet expression on his face as he chewed, eyes flicking between you and his food, and you finally chopped off your first piece, bringing it to your mouth.
You didn’t need to thank him, he already knew, just from your words, how much it meant and the message you’d been trying to convey had been shared. Every experience you made with Thomas was like something entirely new, you weren’t sure why or how it had happened, he was never someone you thought you’d end up in such a situation with, and if someone had told you six months ago that he was the person you’d be turning to in your grief, you’d have laughed.
It was good food, the two of you sitting quietly for a few moments, a grin on his face as you approved of his cooking, warmth spreading over his cheeks at the compliment, and it was well-deserved. You wondered why he didn’t cook at the house more often. The fruit between you was dwindling, though he had eaten the majority of it, and you were at least a third of the way through your food before he spoke again, this time, his eyes fixed on his plate, voice barely above a whisper, but it seemed to fit the delicate mood. “You looked beautiful today.”
You paused, swallowing your mouthful thickly, and Thomas’s fingers were tapping at the counter as the other one navigated his fork around his plate, watching it intensely as though it was the most intense action in the world, but he seems to sense your gaze, his lips pursed as he looked up, one shoulder rising and falling in a shrug.
“I think you always look beautiful, even right now when you want to cry, but you looked really beautiful today. Sad, heartbroken, but beautiful, too. In an epic Ancient Greek tragedy kind of way.”
“So did you.” You murmured, heat washing over your face and burning at you as his brows raised a little, and you let out a frustrated exhale through your nose. “Handsome, I mean. You looked really smart. And good. In your formal suit.” The word vomit was starting again, the beginnings of a smirk forming on his lips as he stared at you, but the hole was already being dug and you were just falling deeper, unable to stop it. “Not that your normal fireman stuff doesn’t look good, you look really good in that, too. Fuck, are you going to shut me up any time soon or are you just going to let me continue embarrassing myself?”
He grinned, toothy and wide, a sight that made your guts twist a little, and your stomach feel like you’d lost gravity for a second, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “I think it’s cute when you ramble.”
You were even more flustered now, cursing a little under your breath, and staring back down at your half-eaten meal, poking the top pancake angrily with your fork like it was to blame for your embarrassment.
“I also think it’s pretty cute when you get embarrassed about rambling, and you blush, and you get all flustered because of me. I like knowing I can make you flustered.”
“Shut up.” You scowled, and he chuckled, but gave in, quieting his laughter with another mouthful of his food, and silence took over again.
It was a few more minutes before the heat bled away, and you were able to look back up to meet his eye, finding the amusement in the situation now that it had passed, but the dark cloud of the day was still hanging over you both.
You poked at your food, stirring it around the plate for a while, and eventually, you had finished your meal, moving on to snacking on what was left of the fruit in the middle of the table. You appreciated the gesture, because you were certain that had you been left to your own devices you wouldn’t have eaten, you probably would have spent the whole day moving around in some kind of daze, wallowing in your pity before eventually dropping into bed. Tomorrow would have been a mess, and yet, it was looking a little more promising now.
“So, do you want to talk about how you’re doing?”
You paused mid-chew, looking up to face him as you felt more like you were choking down the bite of apple, rather than swallowing it, and you sighed, your bottom lip finding itself being worried between your teeth as you thought about it, before eventually shrugging. “There’s not much to say.”
You stood, moving around him, breaking away from the bubble you had created together in order to start loading up the dishwasher, any kind of menial task to avert yourself from the conversation, but he clearly wasn’t letting it go that easily. He stood, his empty plate following, slipping it onto the rack beside your things, and reaching for the pan next. “I know you’re not okay, but you’re not alone, because I’m not really okay either.”
“Tommy, it’s different.”
“No, it’s not. Don’t shut me out.” You closed the machine, loading it up with a capsule and pressing a series of buttons, the machine humming to life, and you turned around, leaning against it, arms crossed as you stared at the floor. It was more like a glare, as though the tiles of the kitchen had personally offended you, but it softened considerably when a finger hooked under your chin, dirty sneakers filling your vision as he stepped in front of you, forcing you to look up at him. “Stop blaming yourself, sweetheart. You can’t, because it’s not your fault. It was a whole load of unfortunate incidents that all came together, and you couldn't have known any of them. You did your best, you did everything you could, and sometimes even when you try your hardest, bad things still happen, but that's not your fault.”
You sniffed lightly, a soft sob leaving you before tears were beginning to slip free, and he wiped them away gently with his thumbs, both hands now cupping your cheeks, and you allowed yourself to once again be weak with him. Your hands were shaking, finding his forearms, smoothing along until you reached his wrists, the back of his hands, pulling his touch away from your face until you could wrap his arms around yourself and press your face into his chest.
He didn’t resist, instead, he lifted a hand to cup the back of your head, his cheek coming down to press softly to your crown as the other slipped around your waist to hold you close, and your cries were muffled as you clung to him. As you did, as you sought comfort from him and let your pain out, you couldn’t help but settle, decide that you were far too comfortable in his arms and with this team, too comfortable at this house to ever let it go. You’d always wanted a family, the bond that came with finding a group of people you could bare your very soul to, to find someone who would see you in your worst state as well as your best and still stick by your side, and you’d found it all.
Holding him a little tighter, you found the tears were slowing, misery was still weighing heavy on your heart, but it was a little easier to carry when you let them help you.
“Can you stay?”
“Stay?” He echoed, letting you pull back to wipe at damp cheeks, before you were nodding, and giving him the best smile that you could muster in that moment.
“Like, here, with me. If you don’t have anything else to do today.”
“Only thing I have to do today is you.” He smiled, and you knew there wasn’t supposed to be an innuendo in the words, but he seemed to realise the same moment you did, a laugh breaking free from your lips as his face flushed with a pink blush, sitting up on his cheekbones and spreading right to his ears, a shocked look forming. “That didn’t come out the way I wanted it to.”
“I gathered that.”
“What I meant to say, is that I don’t have any plans except being with you, for as long as you want me to be here.” You smiled, letting the moment go rather than teasing further, because the colour on his cheeks was already too much.
“Wanna’ watch a movie? I’m pretty sure we could get all the way through one without any distractions, there’s no alarm going off today. Hopefully.”
“Knowing our luck, your building's fire alarm will go off.” He teased, his arm lifting up to tuck you into his side and settle back over your shoulders, guiding you through the space to the couch and living room only a few metres away.
“Well, if it does, I know that I’m the safest I could possibly be since I’m here with you.” You tapped the tips of his nose as you settled down, Thomas slumping into the cushions and spreading out a little as you sat beside him, legs crossed under yourself as you reached for the remotes, trying to reset your emotions as you scrolled through the comedy section, deciding that it was definitely the time for something light-hearted and fun. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Whatever you want is fine by me.” His hand found a place on your thigh, just above your knee, casual and relaxed, and you paused for a second. Glancing down at it, you realised your pause hadn't been from insecurity or anything unsure, but simply from the overwhelming shock of being so comfortable in the action. You didn’t feel put on edge, or tense, it just felt right, and you rested your hand over the top of his, his fingers spreading out to lace loosely with your own, and turning over to hold onto you properly. Pulling the appendage a little closer, your joint hands sat connected in your lap as you scrolled the movies.
You settled on something easy, something with a lot of laughs and giggles, and enough to boost your mood without even having to think about it. You shifted, spending a while sitting up, playing with the fingers of a hand that didn’t belong to you, before he’d seemingly had enough of that. Thomas lifted that arm about thirty minutes in, forcing you to settle back into the couch but wrapping that arm around your shoulders and pulling you backwards, tucking you into his side.
His fingers played with your hair, and you let a hand splay out over his stomach, and he felt like he was a permanent part of your life. It wasn’t a comparison to a piece of furniture, he wasn’t an essential but taken-for-granted piece of house-ware like a frying pan or a kettle, but instead, he was a comfortable addition that you didn’t feel like letting go of.
He was like a throw pillow or a blanket that went on the end of your bed, something for comfort and accessorising, something you could live without but would fight to have taken away if someone tried. He’d wormed his way in, you weren’t sure when or how, but he’d gone from hating you, to tolerating you, to accepting you, to caring for you, to something else. His nose brushed along your hairline every so often, soft smiles and muffled laughter as he kept his voice low, like the comments he made would shatter the mood if spoken above the whisper.
You never moved away from him. He never made you.
Rather, he held you close, and if there were a few times when the emotions all became a little too much, when the tears came again, when the crushing guilt you were working on dismantling threatening itself again, you would let the edge of his jumper soak up the tears and he wouldn't say anything, simple holding you close, and tracing patterns onto your skin as his fingers ran up and down your arm or held onto your shoulder, and if he got a little emotional partway through, or if at the only point in the movie when his arm unwrapped itself from around you, it was to wipe at his cheeks, or cover his face as he tried to protect what he had left of his emotional stability, you only squeezed him a little tighter.
You watched a second movie, one that you assumed was supposed to be a sequel to the first one you had watched, but you hadn't been able to follow the plot that much. Your mind was spinning, your thoughts like a tornado, ricocheting from every side of your brain.
You wondered how Newt was doing, whether he was still with Chuck’s family, whether he was sick of having his cheeks pinched and shoulders squeezed in a tight hug by older family members and swooning relatives. He had a way with words, he had a way with charming people; charismatic and cheeky. He was able to find a joke or a story for any situation, and something about him put you at ease just to be around. He was like medicine for the soul, patching you up from the inside out and making flowers bloom in spaces that had been cold and frozen. Maybe he’d had enough, maybe he’d gone home, or perhaps he’d called Derek for support. You hoped it was the latter, you had high hopes for the two of them.
Your mind also brushed over Brenda and Minho. You had no doubt that the two of them were together, that they were comforting each other. You would see her soon, you made a note of it. Calling people up and asking them to hang out wasn’t something you were used to, but you’d make the effort for her. You’d take her for coffee, or lunch, or simply show up with a bottle of wine and her favourite snacks, and take a girl’s night that you were in desperate need of.
You were picking at a loose thread that was dangling from the inside of his hoodie, a different colour to the pal jumper, it was more of a khaki green shade, and you suspected it wasn’t a thread from his jumper but from the t-shirt he wore underneath, and you jumped a little as you realised that there was a voice in your ear, closer and sharper than the television, which seemed or have been turned down and had become muffled, and you startled slightly, a chuckle following it as you moved to sit up.
Your eyes had been drooping a little, you’d been close to nodding off, not having even realised it as you absentmindedly toyed with a loose thread and let your thoughts take over.
“You haven’t heard a single thing I’ve said, have you?”
“Not even one.” You mumbled, glancing around, before rubbing a hand over your eyes, and noting the late-afternoon sun that was beginning to lower towards the horizon, fading light as the hours ticked on, and you sighed, shaking yourself down a little and his arm slipped free from around you to let you stand as you wobbled a little on legs that hadn't been used in a while. “I was thinking. I got wrapped up in my thoughts.”
“That’s okay, I wasn’t saying anything important, I was talking about the movie.”
“I’ll be right back, just, hit rewind. And pause. I’ll focus, I swear.” He nodded, legs popped up on your coffee table and you weren’t aware of just when he’d made himself at home, an air of domesticity that he seemed comfortable in. The image was burned into your mind as you wandered away, closing the bathroom door and taking a deep breath. The cushions were spread out around him, he was nestled among them, head lolled back against the edge of the couch, feet popped up on the table, shoes kicked off by the couch somewhere and an obviously wrinkled patch on his jumper where you’d been leaning.
You didn’t want to let it go.
You flushed, the sound drowning out the occasional shuffling noises Thomas made as he adjusted himself, the squeaky springs in your couch, and then the sound of the tap to follow, lavender overwhelming your senses as your hand wash flooded the room with the pleasant scent.
You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, red-rimmed eyes and cheeks a little raw from salt, and you switched hot water to cold, cupping your hands under the faucet and bringing your hands up to your face as you leaned over, trying to ease sensitive skin and wash your eyes, wash away where eyelashes were still clumped together, washing away the residual pain. Like a cold shock, waking you up from the hazy slumber you were threatening to fall into once again, and the emotional turmoil of the day had been just too exhausting.
You snapped the scrunchie from your hair to sit around your wrist instead, the dull ache on your scalp eased as you ran your fingers over it, your hair sitting in odd shapes that only a hairbrush would be able to truly tame, and Thomas was looking at you already. “I want to take a nap.”
“I can head out.” He rubbed his hands along his jeans, reaching from the remotes as he lifted his feet down from the coffee table to the floor and switching the television off. You padded your way across the polished wood towards him, taking his hands in your own, and his brows furrowed a little. “What?”
“I want us to take a nap.”
A myriad of emotions moved across his features. He started with confusion, before he was moving to something between bashful and shy, a sweet smile following that and his expression smoothed over until he was simply staring at you, nodding his head slowly and twisting his hands more to lace the fingers of one hand together, and letting you guide him through the halls.
He followed after you, feet scuffing on the floors, and sliding in his socks, and he paused outside of the bedroom door as your fingers found the handle, pulling you to a slight stop, and there was a nervous look on his face.
“Are you sure?” You weren’t sure what he meant, and he seemed to sense it from the shifting in your expression, because his eyes left yours, flicking up to the closed bedroom door long enough to signal what he meant. “I just, well, I mean.. your bedroom. It’s a private space, y’know, and I know there’s this thing between us, but I just want to be sure you really want it.”
You only pushed the door open, stepping into it backwards and taking him with you, and his lips inched up at the edges into a fuller smile, gaze leaving yours to take in the room. It was still a little messy, you hadn't bothered to properly tidy up from before when he’d arrived and the blankets on your bed were still pulled haphazardly tidily from when you had crawled out of bed this morning with barely enough energy to face the day. He took it all in, observing the space that was so intimate to you, taking in every detail, and he watched as you pulled the curtains shut, blocking out some of the light to cast a darker atmosphere over the room.
His fingers were running over the books on your shelf, and you settled down onto the bed, edging your way up it and tucking yourself down underneath cold blankets, shuddering a little and peeling them back to make a space for him when he was finished observing. He took the hint, turning to see you, and stepping a little closer to the bed.
He rested a knee on the edge of the mattress, a hand reaching behind his head to peel his jumper up and over his head, and you didn't even bother to hide the lingering of your eyes on the skin that was revealed, before you were watching him shake his hair free and throwing his jumper away to rest on your dresser chair.
He crawled his way up towards you, pressed a prolonged kiss to your forehead, before flopping down onto the mattress beside you. You lifted the blankets up, tucking them around him as he made himself comfortable, one hand resting under his pillow beneath his head, and facing you as his legs crooked, and he adjusted the blankets more securely around himself. His eyes found yours once he was settled, something that was both awkward and comfortable at the same time, and he sighed as the feeling washed over you both.
You waited a moment longer, his other hand resting just above the edge of the covers that were sitting around your middle, before you gave in to the temptation swelling within you, and you reached out. Smoothing your hand over the top of his own tentatively, he smiles, turning his hand to weave your fingers together once again, like magnets, your hand now only having a home as long as it was wrapped with his own.
“Was Chuck your first loss?” His words barely reached your ears; they were spoken so quietly, and you were certain that in the entirety of the day, you’d yet to actually use your voice at the volume it usually was, in fear of damaging an already fragile aura.
“No.” You mumbled, swallowing thickly, your eyes sliding shut to hold back fresh tears that may threaten to rise, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter in support. “He was the first friend I lost, though.”
It went silent for a moment after that, enough time for you to get a handle on your emotions, before you were opening your eyes back up to meet swirling honey-brown that were watching you through a somewhat sleepy gaze. “The first loss of someone I really cared about was hard. His name was Ben.”
His voice cracked a little as he spoke, and you dared to shuffle an inch closer across your pillow towards his, the bedding barely even making a sound as you moved minutely. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
“I want to. I want you to know about me.” He let out a shaky breath, and you realised that this was perhaps the first time he’d spoken about it since it had ever happened, and so it was just as therapeutic for him as talking about Chuck was for you, even if you didn’t want to. “It hit hard, I liked him, he seemed like a cool guy. He was a lieutenant candidate with me, we were training together. It was competitive but all in fun and games, nothing serious. He was better than I was, he’d been preparing longer, he was definitely going to get the promotion when our house lieutenant retired. He’d been there years, I’d only been there for three months, but it felt like three days.”
You chuckled a little at his words, his expression brightening a little at the sound, seeming to perk up just slightly, and he tugged you a little closer, your cheek pressing to the end of your pillow as his own head remained firmly planted in the centre of the opposite one.
“We got trapped, burning building, it was all coming down. Nothing new. I was trained for the situation, and I tried so hard to get to him, but I couldn’t, he took a piece of debris straight into his abdomen, he was dead before I’d even made it across the room.” He choked down a lump in his throat, and your heart cracked a little in your chest at the broken look that flicked across his features. “I blamed myself for so long. I kept going over the moment, so sure there was something I could have done, that I could have run faster, asking myself if I hesitated just because of the job I wanted that he would have gotten.”
“Tommy..”
“I did all I could. I did my best. I know that now, and I don’t feel guilty, but sometimes it just hurts to think about it.”
“Thank you for telling me.” You could see that it was hard for him, and that he was reopening old wounds just to make you feel better, and it was a silent promise, something more permanent and solid, a confirmation that he was here for you, and that he wouldn't let you fall. That he was inside of those walls now and that he didn’t plan on leaving any time soon, his thumb playing gently with your own as you fell quiet once again.
“Newt’s first loss was a guy called Alby.” He eventually spoke, and you looked up to him again, brows raising slightly. “Before I even joined this firehouse. I remember Newt telling me about him, though. It took Newt a long time to get over it. He was new, basically a candidate, if they have that thing for paramedics. Do you? Have that kinda’ thing for paramedics?”
“We call ‘me greenies. Because on their first few cases, they usually look a little green, and throw up.”
“I like that. Greenies. That’s good.” He chuckled, and you shrugged one shoulder, letting him continue when he was ready. “He was the greenie, I guess, and Alby was the house chief. He took Newt under his wing, fresh outta’ the academy, early graduate at just twenty, and they became good friends. About a year in, they got in some trouble, Newt never really told me the full story, but Alby died on the stretcher to the hospital. Newt tried to pump his heart all the way there, he was sure that if he just kept pumping, his heart would start beating on its own again. It didn’t.”
You didn’t have anything to say to that, a pang of sadness for your best friend racing through your veins, and your eyes flicked over the edge of his pillow, contemplating getting a little closer, but he seemed to make that decision for you, shuffling himself up further toward you until his face was balanced on the edge of his pillow like yours, the soft pants he let out occasionally able to felt against the tip of your nose.
“Then, of course, there’s Brenda.” Your heart sank at the mention, and you knew she had to have lost someone along the line somewhere, but you hated the tone in his voice. “Arguably, the worst of them all. She really was the candidate, at a firehouse a few miles over, with her brother. He was a couple of years older, his name was George, he inspired her to become a firefighter. Apparently, they played firemen together ever since they were little, she followed in his footsteps.”
“I never even knew she has a brother.”
He lifted your hands up, instead of stretched out between your bodies, they were folded up near your faces between you both, resting on the mattress and holding tightly. “He was on Squad, she was on Truck - of course - and the Squad team got trapped on an upper floor. Everyone but her brother made it out. She finished her candidacy, passed her exams, and transferred to a new house, our house, she needed a fresh start.”
“Not that I don’t want to know, but, why are you telling me all of this?”
“Because I want you to know that you’re not to blame, and that everybody blamed themselves after a loss, but we all moved on, because we found each other and we let ourselves grieve without holding onto it.” He lifted your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, and you watched his lips move slowly along your hand, dragging along your skin.
“My first-ever loss on the job was a patient, in my first month. A stab wound victim, he died on the way to the hospital, while I was trying to hold the wound shut. I considered quitting, it hurt, not like this does, but it hurt because I felt like a failure.” Your smile only widened as his kisses moved as far as your wrist, his face inching ever closer to your own, able to taste the sweet syrup still on his breath from your shared late-breakfast hours ago.
“I’m glad you didn’t, because if you had then I wouldn’t get you now.”
His nose bumped against your own, his lashes tickling your cheek as lids lay closed and your own followed, darkness surrounding you as every other sense went into overdrive on him. The smell of his cologne, the feel of his nose brushing against yours and his breath tickling your lips, the tingle that shot along you at the barely present brush of his lips that you wondered if you were imagining it as so light when he adjusted himself on the cushion, but the connection you were waiting for never came.
Instead, you caught the sound of a soft sigh, and his hand squeezing a little tighter around yours, before he was letting go, and begging his hand up to sit over your waist under the covers, fingers spreading out until they reached your spine.
“Tommy?”
He hummed, nose nudging a little more roughly against yours as he’d begun to fall away. “Yeah, angel?”
“You’re not gonna’ kiss me?” Something breathy resembling a chuckle left him, and the hand from your waist ran up along your body, evading goosebumps in his wake until he was cupping your cheeks. When your eyes opened, it was to find he had already taken that step, watching you fondly, pulling away enough to rest on his pillow once again.
“No.” He eventually gave in, seeming to be lost in thoughts, and you felt your features rumple with confusion and disappointment. “Oh, sweetheart, I want to. I really, really want to. Have for a while, actually, but not now and not like this. You’re sad and I’m sad. Every moment we’ve had so far that brought up the chance to kiss you has been stressed, depressed and near-death.”
“But you are going to kiss me, at some point?”
A sleepy smirk, that had way more of an effect on you than it should be allowed to have, and he seemed to know it too, because it only got wider. “Oh, definitely. But when I kiss you, it’ll be amazing, and breathtaking. When I kiss you, you’re going to feel it. It’ll make you a little weak in the knees, but that’s okay, because I’ll hold you up. It’s going to be perfect, it’ll be a kiss you’re never gonna’ forget, so I don’t want our first kiss to be when we’re sad.”
You didn’t know what to say, a long beat passing, before your lips were pressing together, and you were unable to contain your grin. “Well, okay, then.”
You moved forwards, his laughter only increasing as your face pressed into his neck, rolling him onto his back as you let your full body weight fall against him, his arms wrapping tightly around your back. You pressed a kiss to his neck, any spot you could reach, and the deep and rumbling laughter he let out was replaced with something softer and cracking, lighter pitch as he bordered on giggling, squirming a little as you kissed just above the patch, sensing a weakness in him.
You moved up, before eventually, he was giggling without restraint, squirming at the tickling feeling over the featherlight kisses you pressed to his jaw.
“Alright, alright, cut it out, before I lose all of my masculinity.” He was pink along his cheeks when you propped yourself up over him to get a better look at his flushed face, sparkling eyes peering up at you with messy hair and a dopey smile to match, and that sight was definitely something you could get used to seeing.
This was all new to you, it was ever-changing and constantly evolving, it was unsteady and unsure and it made you feel nauseously anxious and yet ecstatically excited all in one, and you leaned down, the promises he’d made were you giving you the confidence to so so as your forehead pressed to his. “Nap?”
“Cuddle?”
“Yes.” He beamed, twisting his body like you weighed nothing until you were on your side against the mattress again. He pulled you over, adjusting you on your side to face away from him, before pulling you back into his body.
His arm wrapped around you, one spread out under the pillow to support your head, and you weaved your fingers with the other, bringing it up to your mouth to kiss the back of his hand like he’d done for you. He was resting behind you, legs tangled together as your bodies sat snugly to one another and he held you tight in a gripping hug, and you were able to drift off to the steady beat of his heart against your back and the feel of his body surrounding you.
“You know, it’s rude to text when you’re having dinner with someone.” you jibed, his gaze flicking up from his phone as his elbows rested over the empty plate on the counter, lamps making his skin look more golden and highlights in his hair seeming to stand out as the light outside had faded, the evening meal being the next thing the two of you shared; chicken nuggets from the bottom freezer drawer and homemade wedges as he refused to eat curly fries.
“It’s not my fault you’re taking ages to eat.” You scoffed, swiping another nugget through some of your tomato ketchup, and lifting it on your fork to take a bite. He picked up his discarded fork, stabbing it into one of your nuggets, stealing a smear of ketchup that left a mess on the plate, and putting the whole thing into his mouth at once, winking as you protested weakly. “Besides, I’m talking to the group.”
“How are they all doing?”
“They’re good. As good as they can be. They want to meet up for drinks in a little bit, they’re headed down to the bar we like.” You finished your food, placing your knife and fork down to match his, and chewing the rest of your mouthful, considering it all, and his attention was back on his screen as he typed away.
“Can I come?”
He paused, looking at you over the device, before turning it off and putting it down on the counter, the buzzing and lighting up going ignored as he stared for a second. “Seriously? I just, I mean, you’re up for it?”
He stumbled over his words a little, he didn’t mean to come off as rude and you knew it, and so you let it slide, shrugging and smiling a little as you hopped down from your seat to put the plates in the sink to be washed later. “You said that everyone else got past their sadness by being together. I’ve never had anyone before, but I would like to be with you all now.” His seat scraped along the floor, and a second later, arms were wrapping around your waist from behind in a tight squeeze, shocking you a little as he did, and you straightened up, twisting in his hold to face him. “Is that really so shocking?”
“A little bit. We’re kinda’ used to being shut out. They’re all going to be surprised.” He tapped the end of your nose. “A good surprise, though.”
“Well, I can go change into something that isn’t sweatpants, and we can go.”
His eyes dropped down, taking in your outfit as he let you go, seeming like he’d only just noticed your attire, and you wandered away, leaving him to whatever he was going to do, confirming his arrival to the rest and getting his shoes on, while you tried to find some suitable clothes.
Once you had pulled on a pair of jeans and a more comfortable and bar appropriate top to replace your pyjamas, you folded them, resting them on pillows that had only just gone cold, before straightening the sheets out, erasing all evidence of the nap you’d taken as your bed was reset. A pair of shoes came next, hopping about a little bit to get them on, before running a brush through your hair and checking you looked presentable enough to go out. There was no doubt that Brenda would look like a supermodel, she always did, grieving a friend or attending movie night, she could put everyone else to shame, but it was just another thing you loved about her.
As soon as you stepped out of the room, there was a whistle meeting your ears. Thomas had found his jumper again and pulled it back on, his shoes too, phone tucked into his pocket as he beamed at you, and you rolled your eyes, walking straight past him to the coat rack to find your belongings as you got ready to go.
“Oh, shut it.”
“Why? You gonna’ get all cute and flustered, blush for me a little bit? Sweet and shy?” He was teasing now, and you scowled, pulling on your coat and hiding your face from him as you grabbed your keys, batting yourself down for everything you’d need and finding it already in your pockets.
“I’m kicking you out.”
He laughed, wandering past you and into the halls of the building, letting you flick the lights off before locking up, and he offered his arm to you for you to link your own through, before guiding you down the corridors to the elevator.
A short car ride, Thomas holding the door of his car for you to let you in before opening it for you again when you arrived, commenting both times about something gentlemanly, before his hand was finding yours as the car lights flashed to signal it’s locking, and a fresh wave of anxiety was washing over you.
You wanted to see your friends and be with them, you truly did, but that didn’t make it any easier to take yourself into a crowded place when you were in such a vulnerable place. The opening of the door made muffled snap into sharp surroundings, the bar filled with people, crowds weaving among one another, and Thomas took the lead, shouldering through the people milling around the entrance politely. The cold air of the outside was overwhelmingly different from the stuffy inside, the smell of liquor and sweat overwhelming your senses, but it wasn’t a smell you were unfamiliar with. The music pumping through the floor was vibrating right up along your bones, pooling in your gut, and you squeezed Thomas’ hand a little tighter as the crowds cleared once you passed the high tables and the dance floor.
You could just about see your friends, gathered around the largest booth with extra chairs pulled up, bodies constantly weaving in and out of your sights, blocking them from your view. Lips brushed your ear, a jolt of electricity making you jump, before you turned to find Thomas, his head ducked to speak to you but eyes flittering over the scene.
“I’m going to go buy everyone another round. What d’you want to drink?”
“Uh..” Your words died out, a little overwhelmed at the sight before you, and he squeezed your hand reassuringly. “Just something cold and refreshing, maybe fruity. I don’t know.”
“I got you, don’t worry. Why don’t you head over to the table?” He gave you a final lingering stare as you nodded, before the two of you were parting, and you were left to try and make your way toward the table. Luckily for you, it was only a few metres upon leaving Thomas’ side that Brenda spotted you, her entire face lighting up and glass slamming down onto the table, before she was practically climbing over the men to get out of the booth, and all but pushing people out of the way to get to you.
A tight hug as she rocked you from side to side, clearly tipsy as she spoke faster than she normally would while mumbling into your ear about how happy she was to see you. The story Thomas had told you came back to mind, and you didn’t mention it, but you wrapped your arms around her just as tight and held her to you, a show of your love for her, belated sympathy for the tragedy, and comforting her as she needed it, weak inside even if she didn’t show it right now.
Newt followed, cheering a little, hair messy and cheeks flushed with warmth from the drinks he’d had and the temperature in the bar, and you were already beginning to grow overheated. He hugged you next, walking you backwards to the table as you giggled, and settling back into his seat as several other welcomes and greetings echoed in their place. You couldn't help it, the smile that broke free, the way you fitted in so perfectly, your anxiety melting away just from being with them.
“You’re here!”
“Is that okay?” You teased, Brenda shuffling back into her seat at the back of the booth, nodding avidly as she sipped at a glass of gin through a thin straw.
“Of course! We just didn’t expect you, you haven’t been answering your phone all day.” Your brows furrowed, hands digging into your pockets to find it. “I was worried about you.”
You located it, metal cold to the touch from where it had been abandoned for so long, and you realised that the last time you’d checked it had been before turning it off as you entered Chuck’s service, not having a chance to turn it back on before Thomas had arrived, and stole all of your attention solely and unwilling to share.
Turning it on at the side, the device flashed back to life, and you waited a few moments, before it reset itself, and all the notification you had missed began to flash through one by one. Multiple missed calls from various members of the team, the oldest of which begging Thomas, probably calling to let you know he was coming over, before alerts from only a few minutes ago, the groupchat you all had with recent notifications, and you chuckled at the volume of them all.
“Sorry, my phone had been turned off all day. I wasn’t ignoring you, I swear.”
She shrugged it off, and you placed your phone down to be able to shuck yourself of your coat, the heat growing stifling with the extra layer on.
“How’d you know where to find us? How’d you know we were here?” Newt piped up, and you let your cat hang over your arms, turning to face him.
“I, um, Thomas. He told me you’d all be here.”
“But I thought your phone was turned off, so-” He cut himself off, brain seeming to catch up in his slightly inebriated state, and you were grateful that the heat in the room would hide your blush as your skin was already flushed. “Were you with Tommy today? All day?”
An undeniably cocky grin split his face open, matching expressions following gasps that echoed around the table, and you scoffed, placing your coat down on the heap that had been built. “Maybe. It’s not a big deal.”
“He told me he was going to check up on you. I figured he meant, like, call you or something. He came to see you?”
You shrugged, the questions suddenly being shot at you, among teases and winks that made you stare at the floor, bombarded with gentle humour from your team. Newt was through the roof, Brenda was yelling louder than all of them about her ‘ship’, some gazes being given over to her from strangers, and Minho was trying to shush her while laughing. Gally was simply grinning like the Cheshire Cat into his beer, and your head was spinning too much to even process anybody else’s questions or remarks.
“Alright, well, I’m not drunk enough to start this conversation with you all.”
“Well, where is lover boy, anyway?” You rolled your eyes at Newt, before tipping your head back towards the bar.
“He’s getting you all a fresh round of drinks.” Your retort resulted in a cheer from them all, hands banging on the table in excitement; empty bottles, glasses, and cans rattling as the surface shook. “I’m going to go and see if he needs any help.”
“You spent the whole day with him, can’t we keep you for a little while?” Newt pouted, and you stepped away, sticking your lower lip out to mock him a little, before flipping him off, and making sure to wave the gesture at the rest of them for good measure, chuckles taking up all around.
“No, because you’re teasing me, and I need at least two shots to handle that.” He raised a brow, a mumble of ‘touché’ spoken into his beer and he smirked, before you were turning and weaving to the bar.
He wasn’t hard to find, tall and messy hair unmissable once you were set on him, and as you got closer, you realised it wasn’t the bartender he was talking to. A woman, not too far from your own height, dark curly hair and tight jeans, a blue eyes that were piercing as she spoke to him, and it seemed to be a hushed conversation as she leaned on the bar against him, two trays of drinks stacking up beside Thomas, his wallet sitting out on the bar.
You considered turning back, letting him have his privacy with whoever he was speaking to, and you paused in your path, ready to turn before his eyes were moving from her face to you, lighting up a little as he smiled, and there was no way you could backtrack now. He’d seen you, you had to at least go over and explain yourself, his attention moving back to the woman.
Her words went silent as you approached, and you smiled politely, her gaze dragging over you, before she was offering a polite smile herself upon realising you were stopping by their sides, and not just passing by.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, I just realised you might need a hand with the drinks.” You pointed to the two trays building, an empty laugh leaving you all, but the atmosphere was still tense. “You want me to come back in a few minutes, instead?”
“Yeah-”
“No, now’s fine, we’re pretty much ready,” Thomas promised, the woman by his side frowning, and you grimaced at the tension continuing to rise, gaze moving between them for a second. Thomas turned, paying for the drinks with a swipe of his card, and nudging a try toward you, while picking up the other himself. “I appreciate the help.” He mumbled, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple as you tried to balance the drinks, and you smiled softly, eyes catching his, hoping the affection was returned without you having to lean up and actually return it, risking toppling all the drinks you were holding. “I gotta’ go. I’m sure we’ll catch up or something another time.”
You stepped away from the pair, at least trying to give them a second's privacy without lingering, slow steps away from them and back to the table. “My number is the same, still. Call me, alright?”
He didn't reply, not verbally at least, Thomas falling into step with you a second later, and you couldn't bite back the curiosity on the tip of your tongue as no introductions had been made. You didn't know many other people in town, and if you were going to stay, it was probably wide that you got to know your neighbourhood; “She seemed polite. Who was she?”
He glanced at you, a complicated look on his face, and you realised it must be deeper than you thought, a list of names and suspicions moving through your mind, before he sighed away his worries and shook his head lightly. “Nobody important.”
You placed the drinks down on the table, accepting his answer, and the group shuffled up to make room for you all, greeting their lieutenant and thanking him for the refills as they grabbed their drinks. A bottle of something fruity and fizzy was placed in front of you, and it seemed satisfying enough, you weren’t overly picky about it, and it tasted fine as you took a sip. Perching on the leather booth, an arm you had grown familiar with throughout the day returned to sitting over your shoulders, and you settled into him without hesitation.
Resting your head on his shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile, feeling at home as you sought comfort with your friends, moving on together, and letting your burdens be carried by friends and not just yourself for the first time in a long, long time.
#thomas#thomas the maze runner#ff!tommy#firefighter!tommy#the maze runner#thomas/reader#thomas x reader#smoke and fire#SAF#dylan obrien thomas#dylan obrien the maze runner#dylan obrien x reader#dylan obrien/reader#dylan o'brien#dylan obrien x reader smut#dylan obrien/reader smut#thomas x reader smut#thomas/reader smut
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hii léna, congrats for reaching 300 followers! i hope you reach many more!
i'd like to participate in your match up event, please!
i am an infj-t, cancer female (think cancer sun, mercury, mars AND venus, and then we have libra moon and rising). i love to read, write, work out (both in the gym and outside like hiking or riding a bike), i love to bake too! i used to figure skate for a long time but then i got injured, and only recently i started coaching beginners at my club!
my favourite book series are Child 55 ( post ww2 soviet union, thriller), A court of thorns and roses ( young adult, fantasy) and throne of glass (also ya and fantasy). I generally love reading books that keep me at the edge f my seat. my favourite tv shows are vikings, the walking dead, brooklyn 99, and also grey's anatomy. my favourite songs are typically pop, anything i can dance to- think doja cat, ariana grande, but i also really like chase atlantic and rammstein sooo 😅
my fashion style is comfy and casual, on most days i am in athleisure, but otherwise i like neutral colours and light green. i love wearing high waisted pants and crop tops with chunky sneakers, and i love love summer dresses (that i have in all sorts of colours).
i used to be a medical student until not long ago, and i decided to start over as an English lit student. Medicine has and will always be my love, but it was too hard on me, and the quarantine didn't help a lot. Depression hit me HARD lol, so I am still piecing myself back together.
i am around 5'6, i have shoulder length wavy dark brown hair (it used to be longer but i cut it short recently), and brown eyes, i also wear glasses. all the lifting gave me a bit wider shoulders and thicker thighs, and i am a bit insecure about my stomach (it used to be more lean, now it is not the case 🥲).
For the fandom, I'd like to choose a Haikyuu guy!
tysm, and i hope you reach more milestones soon! stay safe xx
I match you with ... Iwaizumi Hajime ♡
Your relationship song : Killer Queen (Queen)
The sun may be awake, but this doesn’t mean it had to wake you up in the process. A simple glance at your phone tells you it’s way too early to start your day. Sighing, you put the phone back on the nightstand and turn around, searching blindly for the warmth of your boyfriend. “Haji…” you whine, hand patting the mattress to grasp his arm. When you only encounter the covers, you open your eyes again and realize he’s not by your side anymore.
Right, it may be too early for you but never for Hajime.
Reluctantly, you push the cover off your body, put on the first hoodie that encounter your way and open the bedroom’s door. Immediately meeting a pleasant smell. That only means one thing: your boyfriend’s cooking the breakfast.
Quietly, you make your way down the stairs, peeking from the doorway to eye him. He’s shirtless (meaning you have a perfect view of his back muscles, which is enough to make you drool), moving around effortlessly while preparing coffee and scrambled eggs just the way you like them. Before he can spot you, you make your way towards him, arms outstretched so you can hug him backwards. He doesn’t jolt nor say anything when he feels your presence, only putting one hand over both of yours.
“Morning, dove. Had a good sleep?”
You nod, grumbling about how the sun was mean for waking you up this early which makes him chuckles.
“Go sit, I’ll bring the food in a minute.” “No, wanna stay with you…” you refuse, still a bit sleepy.
“As you wish, ma’am.” He mocks you gently, patting your hand one last time before returning his attention to the stove with you clinging on his back like a koala. Another peaceful and lovely morning for both of you.
#omg you have such good taste in books i'm screaming#thank you for participating dear!! <3 stay safe too#love is in the air event#from : sunat2508
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TXT REACTION.
S/O coming out as bisexual.
//Requested//
Choi Yeonjun.
You were seated on the couch. With your phone in your hand you were scrolling through the instagram feed. Your boyfriend, Yeonjun was in the room, talking to his friends. It was something he would enjoy. Him and his friends would often have conference calls and talk about the most fun topics. He would later come giggling to you and tell you about some funny stories that definitely weren't secrets he was supposed to hide.
He did the same this evening. He sat next to you leaving no space between the two of you. He leaned to rest his head on your shoulder. Instead of telling you a funny story, he asked you a question. "Babe, I am better than all the guys you've dated, right?," he asked, expecting an immediate reply.
It was the fact that he had assumed that you had dated only guys before that made you sigh. You had never brought to his attention that you weren't into guys only. It was a topic that never came up. Yeonjun was open minded, you knew. He would be accepting of you being bi too. There was slight nervousness of things being different between the two of you by any chance. So, you thought over it before telling him. You decided it was a fact. Yeonjun needed to know.
You smiled at the man looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. The silence had made him panic a little. "You are better than the guys and girls that I've dated." It was the fact that he was better that made him feel relieved. He was afraid of the words that would follow the silence. Then he realized. "Guys and girls? You didn't tell me you were bi babe," he said to you. You shrugged. "I don't know why I didn't. It was a topic that never came up. You're accepting of it right?"
"Of course. I love you the same anyway," he said as he kept his hand over your hand. He looked you in the eyes with the most comforting look. Even his smile was comforting. He really did love you the same. Your sexuality had always been a part of you, he knew. Nothing about it was off putting or negative. "It's a fact about you babe. Knowing this makes me feel more connected to you. Thanks for telling me," he said to you. The wide smile you gave him after hearing those words made him feel happy. . He was glad you told this to him when you felt comfortable. "Also, I am better than all the guys and girls you've dated, huh?," he asked in a cocky tone. You playfully rolled your eyes. "Didn't I tell you the answer already."
Choi Soobin.
You always wanted to tell Soobin about your sexuality. He was a shy person in the beginning of the relationship. Small things would embarrass him easily. Often, he would get all awkward. You didn't want things to be like that. So you decided to not rush things. That was the best way to make him comfortable about the relationship. Now that the comfort was there you wondered if letting him know that you were bi would disrupt it.
You knew it shouldn't do that. Still there were doubts in your head. However the relationship had to be comfortable for you too. So, you decided to sit him down and tell it to him. You thought it would be an easy thing to do. It wasn't. The fact that Soobin was busy talking about what you two should get for lunch was even more distracting. You had to figure out how to get him to know that you had something important to say.
"I need to tell you something. It's important." Just saying that took effort. He kept aside his phone and looked at you directly. "Is everything okay?" "It is. It is." You were sweating. You thought it would be easier than this. "Say something," he told you in a tone that let you know he was worried. You didn't know what to do so you hugged. You hugged him tightly. "I like you a lot. I don't want this to affect our relationship," you managed to say. "I am bisexual," you added. He wrapped his hands around you as he hugged you back.
The silent hug lasted for a while. "Is that all? I was a little worried," he said to you softly. "I don't think this will affect our relationship. I just hope you feel comfortable to tell me such stuff about yourself. It's nothing to feel ashamed or worried about." His warm words made your shoulders feel lighter. When you pulled away from the hug to look at him, he placed a small kiss on your forehead.
Choi Beomgyu.
On this day, you had met a friend at the café. She had asked you to meet her because she really wanted to talk to someone. The thing she wanted to talk about was how her kind of serious relationship with a guy was over. All she did was come out to him. He couldn't handle the fact that she was bisexual. It was only because his insecurities got in the way. This story was scary to hear because you didn't want your relationship with Beomgyu to come to an end like that.
That night, as Beomgyu played the most pleasant tunes on his guitar, you sat next to him. He loved it when you did. In the dimly lit room, with Beomgyu before you, you started wondering if things would come to an end if he came to know about your sexuality. But it was only right to tell him, you had concluded. "Sweetie," you told him. Your eyes were already tearing up. "Yes?" "I want to tell you something but I am scared," you managed to say.
He kept his guitar aside and shifted closer to you. "Is everything fine? You don't have to be scared to tell me anything. It's me, your sweetie," he assured. His dark eyes looked into your eyes. His thumb wiped out a tear running down your cheek. "Sweetie, I am bisexual," you said to him in a breath. There were a few seconds of silence. "Okay." You looked at him, a little anxious of him wondering if it was time to end things. "That's all? Nothing bad happened right?," he asked you as he placed a hand on the side of your face. "That's all."
"Nice. It must've been difficult to confess. I am proud of you," he said before placing a kiss on your cheeks. "What do you think about it?," you asked him, taken back by how understanding he was being. "It's something that you are. There's nothing wrong about it. I still love you. You still love me right?" "Yes. Very much."
Kang Taehyun.
"You have something to say," said Taehyun.
You furrowed your eyebrows at the fact stating. "No. I don't."
He just sighed as he got back to coloring the picture that he had been for a few minutes now. You just sat there wondering how to break it to him. You wanted to keep it casual. Just tell it and leave kinda situation. However coming out to someone took more than just that. It needed courage.
You slowly grabbed a paper kept on the table. Then you reached out for the pink crayon. This was the most simple way to do it, you thought. You wrote down the words, 'I am bi.' Slowly you slipped the paper to the boy who was well aware that you were up-to something. He looked at it before lifting it up to read the words. He gave you a small glance before picking up another paper.
You watched him cover it as he wrote something. You were so worried about what he had to say. The fact that he was writing it down made you more nervous. A few minutes later he slid the paper to you. 'Hi bi. I am Taehyun.' You burst out laughing on reading that. He too chuckled. "What's the matter with you?," you said to him in the middle of the laughs. "I thought we were introducing ourselves." "Very funny," you said sarcastically before playfully rolling your eyes.
"On a serious note. I know that it doesn't change how much you matter to me. It's just a part of who you are and I am happy that you can admit it proudly."
Huening Kai.
The two of you were watching Brooklyn 99. Binge eating while watching Netflix was something you and Huening Kai did often. The episode playing happened to be the one where Rosa comes out to her parents. Considering how you had been feeling guilty about not coming out yet, you found yourself getting emotional over it. Huening Kai noticed it immediately. Jumping to conclusions wasn't his thing. So, he didn't do that. "You want a tissue?," he asked, gaining your attention. You nodded. He headed to the room to get you a box.
You had been waiting for the right time to come out. It was difficult. You didn't want to be seen differently. You were scared of being told that it was just a phase or anything related to the stereotypes related to bisexuality. Her parents didn't accept it. You were scared that people in your life wouldn't accept it too. You didn't want to be treated badly. You didn't deserve it, you knew. Another thing you knew was that Huening Kai wasn't the kind to do that. So, you decided to let him know.
He handed you the box before sitting on the couch. You pulled out a tissue and wiped your tears. You then turned to look at Huening Kai who was trying his best to not make you feel uncomfortable about your emotions. "Kai, I love you a lot and want to continue dating but there's just something I haven't told anyone. I am bi," you said to him. He turned to look at you. "Oh." Well, he didn't know how to react. He needed a few seconds to decide what to say to you. When he did speak, he left you feeling so happy. "I know it must be tough to confess it. Even accepting it must be tough. People can be unnecessarily mean about sexualities. They are the wrong ones. I think it's something you should never have to hide from anyone. Don't feel forced to tell people if you don't want to. You know, it's your thing. No one can tell you that it's wrong."
‹•.•›
To head to my masterlist click here.
#txt#beomgyu#soobin#txt imagines#yeonjun#kang taehyun#txt fluff#hueningkai#txt angst#txt x reader#txt scenarios#txt requests#txt reactions#tomorrow by together#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop#choi beomgyu imagines#choi beomgyu#choi yeonjun#choi soobin#choi soobin imagines#soobin imagines#beomgyu imagines#yeonjun imagines#kang taehyun imagines#taehyun imagines#hueningkai imagines
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Till I Belong To You
Carry On Countdown day 6 - Reunion/Reconnect
~2K
All my stories for this year's Countdown take place in the same universe/timeline. You can find my other fics under the tag Casey writes.
This one takes place a year after my day 2 fic, On Love's Light Wings, which you can read here. You don't need to have read it for this one to make sense but it will fill in a couple of details.
I can't really give you a synopsis without spoilers, so here's the first line to tempt you instead:
Two whole weeks Baz has been gone and I’ve been completely pathetic about it the whole time.
Title is lyrics from the song mentioned in the fic.
Content warnings: no big ones this time. A fair amount of swearing and it gets mildly ~spicy~ (really though, very mild. Not even as spicy as AWTWB).
Enjoy!
Till I Belong To You
Simon
Two whole weeks Baz has been gone and I’ve been completely pathetic about it the whole time. That’s what Baz would call me, if he could see me: pathetic.
I pick up my phone and open Spotify. It’s Baz’s account; I hardly ever use it. I press play on Baz’s top songs of the year. I don’t really care much for the music; I just miss the background noise of him being in the flat.
The place feels too big and too quiet with him gone. I’ve started avoiding being here on my own. I’ve stayed late at work to help Kevin lock up. I’ve been to Penny and Shep’s for dinner and to Lady Ruth’s twice. I’ve been to the pub with Jamie and had Shepard over to play Fifa – how is a bloke who calls it soccer and doesn’t know the rules so good at Fifa? – but now it’s Friday night and everyone else has plans. So I ordered pizza and ate it on the sofa watching repeats of Brooklyn 99.
A new song starts; The Beatles’ It Won’t Be Long. I know I shouldn’t, I know it’s extra pathetic, but I don’t care; he knows how pathetic I am already. I click "share" and send the song to Baz.
He starts typing almost immediately.
“Pathetic, Snow.”
“I know” I’m not even ashamed.
“I’ve missed you, too”
I send him a heart emoji. I was so proud when he got this promotion but I didn’t realise then that he’d have to travel to America twice a year. This is his first trip and I hate it.
It’s not like we’ve never spent time apart – he stays in Oxford sometimes without me – but two weeks feels like a long time; and Chicago is not Oxford. And I’m worried about him; the last time he was in America he didn’t exactly have a good time. At least he’s in a city this time so he’ll be able to keep himself fed. And it’s December, so not much chance of sunburn. My phone buzzes again.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s almost midnight there. Don’t you have to work in the morning?”
I actually don’t have to work tomorrow; I swapped my weekend off with Kevin because I wanted to be here when Baz got home. I want to keep that a surprise, though, so I ignore it.
“I am in bed. Wanna see ;P”
Am I going to send nudes to my boyfriend while he’s on a work trip? Maybe, if he wants them. Maybe that will give him a good reason to come home.
“You know I would love to see that, Snow, but I’m meeting the others for dinner in a minute.”
I decide to send him a preview anyway, for my own amusement. Nothing too revealing, in case someone sees it; just something for him to think about over dinner. I’m not wearing a shirt so I turn on the bedside lamp and take a selfie. Just me from the waist up, lying in bed. My hair’s a mess, he’ll enjoy that.
I watch the ticks appear and then turn blue. Baz starts typing. And then stops. And then starts again.
“Snow, you gorgeous fucker, I do not have time to sext with you, much as I desperately want to. I’m going to have dinner with the team. I hope the view is still as good tomorrow.”
Did Baz just use the word "sext"? How does Baz even know the word "sext"?
“You’re definitely coming back then?” I’m mostly joking.
“I will be there when you get home from work. Go to sleep. Don’t send me any more filthy photos.” And then: “Yet.”
I laugh to myself and put my phone down next to my pillow.
I lie awake for a long time thinking about Baz in America. He could be so much more free there than he could ever be here. I’ve tried to talk to him about it before but he just gets angry at me. He could really live a life out there, though. I feel like I’m holding him back from that.
That’s not a productive line of thought, so I interrupt it.
He said he was coming back, and he keeps coming back; over and over. When we argue, when he goes home to his family, when I’m depressed and hard to live with – he always comes back. He always wants to come back. I don't know why he keeps coming back, I don’t think I give him enough reason to. But I want to. I want him to know that I will always be here for him to come back to. I want him to know that I’m sorry I left when he was in Oxford that time. I want him to know that won’t ever happen again.
How do I show him I mean it?
***
I wake up late because I didn’t get to sleep until after 2am, but I did decide how I’m going to show Baz that I want to be as reliable for him as he is for me.
I shower and make coffee and I do a bit of googling while I eat breakfast; trying to find exactly what I need.
And then I get on the next train.
Baz
I shouldn’t have driven myself to the airport when I left for Chicago. I’m jetlagged and now I have to deal with pre-Christmas traffic outside Heathrow. Mind you, being stuck in a taxi with a driver full of blood wouldn’t be much fun, either.
Chicago was bloody freezing and covered in snow. It makes England in December feel temperate in comparison. I went for a walk in a park before we left for the airport, so I could find something to drink before I had to spend nine hours on a plane. I was sat in the row behind the two colleagues I was travelling with, which at least gave me enough of an excuse not to talk to them. They’re perfectly nice people but we’ve spent the last two weeks doing everything together and I am ready to not have to see anyone for a long, long time.
Well, anyone but Simon. I worried about how he would cope while I was away; December is always hard for him. Christmas is in a few days and he gets very melancholy about it. Bunce has been texting me to keep me updated on his mental state. She said that, apart from finding as many excuses as possible to not be at home on his own, he seemed fine.
He certainly seemed fine when he sent me a half-naked photo last night.
I’m going to fuck that idiot silly when he gets home. If he’ll let me.
He asked me last night if I was definitely coming back. He was mostly joking, I think, but I know he still worries, too. As if I’ve ever abandoned him, as if I could ever abandon him. I think he’s still waiting for me to get bored of him; he’s been convinced that Bunce and I would lose interest ever since he lost his magic. It was never about the magic. I keep telling him that I’m not going to leave, but he hasn’t decided to believe it yet, not fully. I don’t know how I’m going to convince him that I’m always going to come back to him.
***
I park the car outside the flat and sit in the drivers’ seat for a minute; the fatigue and the thirst and the relief of finally being home settling on me. I decide that I will shower and take a nap first; I’ll hunt later.
I carry my suitcase up the stairs and put my key in the door, but it isn’t locked. Immediately suspicious, I push the door open quietly and peer round the frame. I can hear someone moving around in the kitchen. I can smell cinnamon and bacon and fresh bread. Why is Simon here?
I leave my suitcase by the door and go into the kitchen, “Simon?”
His face lights up when he sees me. “Baz!” he hugs me so hard he lifts me off the floor slightly. He’s actually cooking bacon and I have to concentrate on keeping my fangs retracted.
“I thought you were at work?” I say as Simon hands me a hot cup of tea.
“I swapped my weekends; I wanted to be here when you got back. I’m making bacon sarnies, do you want one?” Of course I want one; he already knows that.
I sit down at the kitchen table and spoon sugar into my tea while my jetlagged brain tries to catch up. Something isn’t right here. I drink my tea and mentally shake myself. What is happening here, Basil?
Simon is making me a bacon sandwich. He was here waiting for me when I got home. He’s being sort of odd; too busy and too bright, like a children’s TV presenter. He’s wearing a shirt. An actual button-up shirt. It’s tucked into his jeans and he’s rolled the sleeves up. (What is it about rolled shirt sleeves that instantly makes men 100 times hotter?) I think about Simon’s biceps and shoulders, hidden under that shirt; I think about his bare shoulders moving under my hands…
I clear my throat as Simon puts a bacon sandwich in front of me. “Ok babe?” he asks.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m just tired.” Why is he making so much effort? Was he really that worried I wouldn’t come home?
I eat my sandwich slowly. Snow doesn’t say much; he keeps fidgeting like he’s nervous. He hasn’t made himself a sandwich. Does he think I’ve come home only to announce I’m leaving him? This is getting silly.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “I missed you while you were gone, Baz.” He says quietly.
“I know, love; I missed you, too.” I smile at him in what I hope is a reassuring way. Maybe later, when he’s calmed down a bit, I’ll sit him down and have a proper talk about this. He can’t freak out every time I go away.
I finish my tea and get up, taking my dishes to the sink. I can hear Simon fidgeting behind me. I’m washing bacon grease off of my hands when Simon says “Will you promise to always come back to me, Basil?” Basil? He never calls me that; it sounds strange coming from his lips, like he doesn't know how to pronounce it properly.
“Simon,” I sigh, I don’t have the patience for this just now. I turn towards the table to tell him he’s being stupid, but he isn’t at the table.
He’s on the floor. On one knee.
“Simon, what -” my brain knows what’s happening, but it’s refusing to believe it.
He looks really nervous now; a frankly stunning flush is creeping up his face from his neck. “Baz,” he swallows deliberately; it’s a whole show, my favourite. He takes a deep breath and looks me in the eyes; it seems to take some effort. “Will you marry me?” he’s holding a small square box made of polished wood. He opens it and inside is a gold band. In the middle of the band is a square cut sapphire, three small diamonds span the width of the band on either side of the blue stone. It’s perfect.
My mouth is dry but Snow is still on his knee on the kitchen floor, looking earnestly at me. I swallow hard. “Yes. Yes, Simon, I promise to always come back to you.”
Simon looks so relieved I think he might pass out. He gets off the floor and kisses me, fiercely. I can feel his wide smile against my own.
He steps back, still grinning like the Cheshire cat, and takes the ring out of the box. I offer my hand and he slides the ring onto my finger. Miraculously, it fits. Simon kisses me again. “I love you,” he whispers between kisses.
“I love you, too,” I whisper back.
He’s pinned me against the kitchen sink with his body, his hips against mine. He's got one arm wrapped around my waist, hand firm on the small of my back holding me against him. The other hand is on the worktop, holding him up. He's kissing along my jaw and under my ear. He’s starting to nip at me now. “Always come back, Baz,” he’s still whispering.
I’m not. “Simon,” I growl into his ear, “we are going to bed. Right now.”
He raises his eyebrows at me, grinning. “Now.” I order, pushing him backwards towards the bedroom.
Simon’s laughing. He’s so gorgeous. He takes my hand, pulls me through the bedroom doorway and down, onto the bed. I land on top of him; he’s still laughing. “God, I’ve missed you, Baz.”
#carry on countdown#coc 2021#coc entry#Casey writes#carry on#wayward son#snowbaz#simon snow#awtwb#baz pitch#any way the wind blows#simon snow trilogy#tyrannus basilton grimm pitch#fanfic
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We Dug Coal Together: Title of Your Sex Tape: Chapter 2
Brooklyn 99 x Justified Crossover
Summary: The manhunt for Boyd and Doug Judy begins.
Warnings: Police Brutality, Rosa Driving, The Gang Looking For Boyd, Rosa Opening Up About Prison, Violence, Mentions of Drugs and Prostitution
Word Count: 1923
Read the Rest of the Story HERE!
Raylan got into the passenger seat next to Diaz, grateful in part for her stoic demeanor that wildly contrasted that of Peralta’s constant chatter. He hated not knowing where they were going, every street and landmark as foreign to him as if he were halfway across the world. The busy sidewalks, raised voices and honking horns reminded him of Miami’s downtown strip, although the faces of each pedestrian that passed were more diverse. The City That Never Sleeps seemed to hold a sort of organized chaos that he could never quite settle into, no matter how hard he tried.
He took his attention off the sidewalk and alleyways, glancing over at Diaz as her onyx eyes focused on the steering wheel. She turned the ignition, her eyelids smudged in a hurried coat of black eyeshadow as a lock of hair fell in front of them.
“So, what’s with the hat?” She asked without a look in his direction, peeling out of the parking lot.
“The hat?” Raylan repeated, grasping onto the door handle for dear life. He gave himself some time to think of an answer that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete jackass. He buckled himself in as the car straightened out, adjusting the position of his seat before hitting Boyle’s knees in the process.
“Ouch!” He squealed, hitting a high note Raylan thought only dogs could hear. “My patella!”
“Sorry,” he apologized quickly, looking over at Diaz instead of him. “Didn’t know you were back there.”
He noticed her knee-high biker boots as she pressed her foot on the gas, her skintight jeans and black leather jacket. It was worn enough to convey that she put it on daily, a prayer she kept close to her heart disguised as a casual uniform. The studs on her shoulders were scratched from overuse. The leather around her neck was cracked from the oils on her skin as it shaped itself into her very own suit of armor. That jacket, much like his hat, was a part of her identity.
“What’s with the jacket?” He asked in retaliation.
She curled her lips into a smirk, those onyx eyes flashing a hint of amber. “Fair.”
“Rosa has five leather jackets, one for each occasion.” Boyle piped in. “This one is her favorite, it’s her manhunt jacket!”
“So you’ve shot Crowder before?” She cut Boyle off, shooting him a look that made him nod and sit back in his seat. “Would you do it again?”
“If I have to.” He took his hat off and set it on his lap, resting his forearms on his knees. Goddamn, he missed the roominess of his Lincoln town car. “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”
“You’re not going to let some schoolgirl crush get in the way?” She kept her eyes on the road as she questioned him, somehow making him more uncomfortable than if she were staring right at him.
Schoolgirl? Crush? Again? He scoffed, laughing a little before realizing it was best if he didn’t argue with her. “I’ll do what I have to.” Raylan confessed.
“Good,” She mumbled. “Any reason he’d break out of prison now after all these years of good behavior?” She turned a corner and tucked that strand of hair behind her ear.
“Not that I know of. All his friends are either dead or in the wind, and his kin’s all gone.” He exhaled and thought about Ava and Zachariah, deciding to keep the truth to himself just in case she would let it slip. “How about Judy?”
She shook her head, her eyes glazing over before blinking rapidly to cover it up. “No. He always seemed at peace with it.” She paused and looked over at him, taking in the image of him without his hat on. “You ever been to prison?”
“Excuse me?” He raised his eyebrows, wondering if she was capable of making a joke.
“It’s a yes or no question,” she reiterated.
“Umm… no.” He answered.
“Well, I have.” She started, driving quickly through a yellow light. “It sucks. The food is bad and you have no privacy.” She started to drive faster. “Plus everyone tries to fight you when they find out you used to be a cop.”
For the first time in his adult life, Raylan stayed silent. He got a feeling this wasn’t something Diaz opened up about often. Maybe it was because she knew he wasn’t sticking around, or maybe it was for some other reason he had no idea about. Either way, he decided to accept the gift and let her speak.
“Jake and I got framed by a dirty cop when we were undercover a few years back.” She told him, taking a hard right down an alleyway. “He had a harder time than I did, but we eventually got out thanks to Captain Holt and the rest of the squad.”
“Shit,” was all he could say. He stared at her in bewilderment, her suit of armor making that much more sense to him now.
He assumed that people would have left her well enough alone on the inside, but he couldn’t imagine Peralta being in prison. He wondered what he had to have done to stay safe, if he had to stoop down to Boyd’s level to keep the other inmates off his scent. He knew that Ava had to do unspeakable things before he got her out, so maybe all that humor was just his way of dealing with all the bad shit he’d gone through.
“I was so stressed out for them, my hair turned white!” Charles couldn’t hold his tongue any longer, leaning forward so that his face was in between Raylan’s and Diaz’s. “It wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the salt and pepper thing you have going on, though!”
“Boyle,” Diaz warned, putting her palm in his face before pushing him back into his seat. “Quit being weird.”
—————————————
Raylan got out of the squad car as soon as Diaz shifted into park. He shrugged out of his blazer, pulling his bulletproof vest on over his shoulders before securing the Velcro straps around his torso. The anonymous tip didn’t say if Boyd was armed or not, but he wasn’t going to be taking any chances today. Not with this group, anyways.
“He’s in the bar on the corner,” Peralta told him, already out of breath from his jog across the street. He pulled out his weapon and pointed to a brick building with the word ‘Lenny’s’ in neon green letters above the door.
“Tim,” Raylan looked over at his partner as he came up on Peralta’s left. “Better go up top,” he ordered, looking up at the roof across the street.
“On it,” he nodded, turning his baseball cap backwards. He readjusted the weight of his duffel bag before running across the street into an old thrift shop.
“He’s going the wrong way!” Peralta shouted, anxiety raising the octave of his voice.
“No, he’s not.” Raylan thought about explaining Tim’s credentials as a sniper, but decided to start walking towards the bar instead. He watched his new partner’s face change as he signaled Diaz and Boyle to take the back entrance before huddling in close to him.
“Okay, so, you go in first? I go in first? How do you want to do this?” Peralta’s voice leveled out, now an even-keel whisper.
“I’ll go in first,” he put his finger up, grabbing the door handle with his other hand.
“But your weapon isn’t drawn.” Peralta’s eyes darted over to his holster.
“I’ll draw my weapon when I have to, don’t you worry about that.” He waited for his eyes to meet his, a slow and steady nod synchronizing between the both of them before he pulled the door wide open.
“NYPD, put your hands where I can see them!” Peralta yelled as he cleared the room behind him. Good God, he was almost as loud as Tim.
Raylan could smell the the rancid mixture of cheap alcohol, vomit and bleach as soon as he walked into the room. The changing colors of the old television set were the only source of light illuminating the sole customer sitting at the bar.
“Boyd, it’s Raylan,” he started, his cowboy boots clacking loudly against the hard wood floor. “Didn’t think you’d have a mind to come up north, what, with the immigrants and all.”
He took a few more steps toward him, shooting Peralta a confused glance as he closed in on the man sitting at the bar. If he knew anything about Boyd, it was that he loved to hear the sound of his own voice, and this man wasn’t saying a word. He took one final step before grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around to face him.
“Bill?!” Peralta yelled, lowering his weapon. “What the hell are you doing here? And why are you dressed like a train conductor?”
“Bill?” Raylan asked, staring at the dirt-faced imposter in front of him.
“Charles, it’s just Bill!” Peralta yelled to the back of the room as Diaz and Boyle burst in, weapons drawn.
“Oh, hi Jake! It’s me, Bill!” He greeted him kindly, smiling bright against his unwashed face.
“Yeah, I know that now!” He shook his head.
Bill turned and looked at Raylan. “Whoa, who’s the sexy cowboy?”
“Goddamn it!” Raylan muttered, pushing Bill backwards into the bar.
“Hey!” Bill put his hands in the air. “If you want to get rough it’s gonna be an extra twenty dollars.”
“What?” He looked to Peralta for guidance, wondering what more there was to the story.
“Bill is a guy who looks like Charles that we hire every year for our Halloween heists to throw each other off our game. Turns out he sells his body on the side for cash, too.” He explained to Raylan as if it was a totally normal scenario to be in. He turned his attention back to Bill, whose shirt was now balled up in Raylan’s fist. “But this? Bill? Really?” He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“Hey, he doesn’t even look like me anymore!” Boyle interjected, pointing out his beard as he put his gun away.
“Yeah, and he doesn’t look like Boyd, either.” Raylan grabbed him by the groin, picking him up off the stool before slamming him down onto the bar. “Where did you get these clothes, Bill?”
“Wow, you’re really strong!” Peralta exclaimed, folding his arms across his chest with a smile. “I shouldn’t be into that, but I definitely am!”
“Hey, this is police brutality!” Bill looked around the room for help, but none of them volunteered to get in between Raylan and the answers he needed.
“I swear to God, Bill, it will be, and I’ll shove my sexy cowboy boot so far up your ass if you don’t tell me who gave you this outfit.”
“Alright, alright!” He relented, breathing heavily. “Jeez! There was a tall skinny man with beady eyes. He came right up to me off the street a few hours ago.”
Raylan tightened his grip on his shirt as he listened, squeezing his testicles. “What else?”
“I thought he was going to try to exchange drugs for sex, because he looked like that kind of guy, but instead he gave me fifty bucks to change into these clothes for him. Then another fifty to call in the anonymous tip.”
“Did he have a cool southern accent like this guy, Bill?” Peralta asked, wanting to be part of the interrogation process.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
#rosa diaz#raylan givens#jake peralta#charles boyle#boyd crowder#Brooklyn 99#justified#brooklyn nine nine#tim gutterson
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