#i never ever delete asks they just simmer with their friends | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koushisatori · 3 years

Text

if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #kyoutani x you #seijoh x reader #aoba josai x reader #mad dog x reader #eeeeh i hope I didn't forget anything #tw jealousy #cw jealousy #????#y/n lowly humming the you kinda smell like a baka sound and he just </3 #deserved though

303 notes · View notes

warmau · 3 years

Text

☆ko-fi au: idiots-to-lovers!au kyungsoo | tw: suggestive *this is more like oblivious-to-lovers/mentions a breakup find other exo aus: here

"do you want me to take care of him?"

kyungsoo's voice is calm as he sits across from you in the kitchen, late-night coffee untouched on the island counter

"no, it's ok. plus you know if it was legal i could right hook him myself."

you flex your arm and kyungsoo cracks a half smirk, eyes big and brown from behind his squared frame glasses

sehun appears from his room and groans, rubbing his head as he takes kyungsoo's untouched cup and swigs it down

"ew! why are you two drinking caffeine at one in the morning!"

he sputters as he slams the cup down and kyungsoo looks apathetically at the splashes of coffee that make their way onto his tshirt

you give him a sympathetic look as you tell sehun to go back to bed - he's your roommate and you know he and kyungsoo get along like a cat and a dog would

"fine. by the way - did your jerk of an ex return your stuff yet?"

you wave your hand and shrug

"no, he just texted me that he threw it all out by accident."

sehun groans with a hand on his hip, mumbling about how in between your things he's pretty sure your ex also took his copy of some video game

he makes himself a glass of water and disappears again and you and kyungsoo are once again left alone together

best friends since high school - he was the only person you could think to call when you'd gotten the infuriating text, along with a number of other rude things your ex had decided to divulge

he had no qualms about driving down here in the dead of night

he has work tomorrow, but he lies when you ask and says he doesn't

you lie and say you don't either because you want more time with him, regardless of this ex drama or not

because

well

you're both in love with each other and it's so painfully obvious to everyone with eyeballs but you two.

not even when you were voted cutest couple by your peers and brushed it off as a prank

not when all through college your partners had brought up the other as a constant wedge between your relationships

not even when your own parents would mistakingly ask if you and kyungsoo were planning on moving in together finally

if there were divine signs in this world, you and kyungsoo were recklessly passing them by

and willful ignorance couldn't even cut it at this point

not when the world seemed to be holding up a neon sign with arrows aimed at your heads flashing: soulmates!

"i just wish i could do something to get back at him though, i know revenge is the low road but..."

you huff and rest your elbows on the island as kyungsoo takes his phone out and places it in front of you

"i have an idea. you haven't texted him back, have you?"

he doesn't blink and you shake your head

"no, plus my read receipts are off."

"then i think my plan might work. it is a little bit risky though."

kyungsoo has always been the levelheaded one of you two, actually, he's outwardly more levelheaded and calm.

you've known him so well that you have seen the occasional, rare outbursts of emotion that are otherwise always hidden

so when he explains his plan - you're surprised by how sly and also how intimate it is

you had expected kyungsoo to say something about reporting your ex's instagram or tracing his IP to block it

when he'd said

"why don't we take a pretend couple photo together and post it now. your ex will think i'm at your place."

it had taken you a whole ten seconds to realize why posting such a photo at this time of the day would probably send your ex into a frenzy

kyungsoo even motions to himself and says he'll take his shirt off for added effect

"i could never ask you to post something like that on your account...."

he pushes his glasses up

"i don't care, social media doesn't impact my daily life anyway."

swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat you are aware of how tiny the walls around you two seem

like they're pushing you together by an unseen magnetic force

"o-ok."

kyungsoo gets up, he flicks his eyes toward sehun's room but the door is shut tightly, and he pads softly toward your door

he's been in your room more than any other friend, he could probably find his way around in complete darkness

and he does - sitting on your bed as you come in after him, flicking the light on

"should i - should i like mess my hair up or something?"

you mean it as a lighthearted quip about the already awkward situation, but kyungsoo pulls you toward him and in between his knees

his hands come up and tussle some of your hair to make it look disheveled.

"take off my glasses"

you reach out and notice the little tremor in your hand as you slip them off

his face is clean and unchanging

has he always been this handsome? something seems even more hot about him after he got discharged.

you place the glasses carefully on your nightstand

"so how do we do this?"

kyungsoo lets his hands splay on the back of your thighs, as quickly as you were standing you end up sitting in his lap - legs wrapped around his waist as he lifts you into a comfortable position.

you position your arm around his neck and then apologize, but he doesn't react

instead he shrugs out of the shirt with your help and loops his finger through the strap of the tank you're wearing

"you don't have to take it off, we can just push the straps down"

the moment is so clearly special, close, and personal

even if it's supposed to be some elaborate laugh in your ex's face. there is not question about the palpable energy in the room.

but you and kyungsoo keep along with the act that it means nothing

that it means nothing when you're pressed against the skin of his chest and kyungsoo is cheek to cheek with you, lips close to your temple

he gives it a small kiss, the kind that flutters something deep in the cavern of your chest, just as you take a photo with his phone

when you both look at it - you don't make a move off his lap and kyungsoo's hand that is close to the curve of your hip doesn't budge either

the picture is so realistic you blurt out

"we really look like a couple."

the silence simmers and simmers and simmers

kyungsoo doesn't try to leave, you don't tell him to go

the clock on his home screen ticks closer and closer to two a.m.

"we should be one."

kyungsoo turns his attention completely on you, your hand on his shoulder curls a little and your nails feel good against him

"we should be what?"

you ask, feeling dumber than you have ever in your life

"be a couple."

kyungsoo uses the hand that's not holding you ontop of him to unlock his phone, navigating with ease to his profile and without any warning, he uploads the photo

captions it with nothing but a heart emoji

and posts it

you think you're going to faint and fall forward into his warm embrace

his phone starts to buzz, even this late at night a photo like that catches the attention of everyone following him

he doesn't look at the notifications - looking at you instead

"what do you say?"

the words don't come to your brain - all these years of pinning in silence

all this time spent pretending you weren't destined to be together to your own annoyance, his, and everyone elses

you see a comment pop up on the post from sehun's profile

"since when does he follow you?"

you mumble and kyungsoo opens it with a swipe of his thumb

oohsehun: thank god. but ewwwww don't bang with me in the house!

oohsehun: also @real__pcy you owe me ten dollars i told you once they break up with their boyfriend these two are going to see the light and finally get together

"see"

kyungsoo hums

"everyone already thinks we're in love - so why don't we just be in love?"

you move in his lap, acutely aware of the friction you both create like this

"do you want to be in love with me?"

you murmur, heartbeat starting to ring in your ears as you wait for him to answer

kyungsoo licks his lips and takes in a deep breath

"i don't have a choice, i have always been in love with you."

you think your heart stops - just for a second - because you can't hear it anymore

suddenly everything is full of kyungsoo

and you push him back onto your sheets to press your mouth open and hot to his

beside your bodies his phone pings with more and more notifications

most of them are congratulations and exclamations that mirror sehun's.

one is an angry stupid comment from your ex, but kyungsoo and you don't have to do anything.

sehun takes care of that in a single reply for you two

(everyone agrees with him and by the time you and kyungsoo wake up later, your ex has deleted the comment like the embarrassment he is)

#idiots to lovers #oblivious to lovers #ko fi commissions #kyungsoo au #kyungsoo imagines #kyungsoo scenario #do scenario #do imagines #exo scenarios #exo au #exo imagines #exo #kyungsoo #im sehunm

272 notes · View notes

vintage-writes · 3 years

Text

I Got Jealous (Bakugo x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: None, this is a Fluff fic. The reader is also gender neutral. Bakugo is aged up though, they are no longer U.A. Students. A Reader who doesn’t take shit.

Summary: Bakugo is getting incredibly Jealous as a certain someone continues to eye you up. Unable to control his Jealousy he drags you away and to a corner to ravage you.

Word Count: 1 396

_________________________________________________

The crowds are dense as you move through the thick mass of bodies. Soft apologies being thrown as you bump into, what feels like, a million people. Right now, You and your boyfriend, Bakugo, are currently half jogging down the pavement. You're on your way to the very first Hero convention being held by U.A and you’re bursting with excitement. Bakugo’s excitement is simmering beneath the surface, he has a scowl on his face but you know him well enough to know he’s excited to see All Might, after leaving U.A.. The paths are completely packed by strangers and students alike. U.A. is buzzing with life.

However, Your excitable pace matched with the bustling crowd makes it hard for Bakugo to keep up. He’s trailing behind you at a jagged pace as you dart through the crowd.

“Oi, wait a second”, he shouts at you.

You glance over your shoulder at Bakugo who has fallen a little too far behind. You nibble on your bottom lip, feeling a bit guilty. You are well aware that perhaps you are moving a bit too fast but there’s a hero you really want to see. They’re your Idol. But some idiot decided to put their section on the complete opposite side of campus.

Right now, Bakugo’s speed just isn’t cutting it.

As Bakugo catches up, you decide move to the side, where it's quieter. You walk along the brick wall and notice as Bakugo’s mood continues to sour. Is it because you’re moving too fast? Does he not want to see your idol? A wave of anxiety and annoyance hits you all at once, unsure of what to make of the situation. Your excitement dies a little. You don’t want to deal with boyfriend issues.

Your footsteps begin to slow. You turn to watch Bakugo, however, to your surprise, he’s not paying attention to you. His line of sight is directed elsewhere. You look to where he’s currently death glaring and make eye-contact with Monoma. His blonde hair has been combed to the side. His grey eyes light up slightly as he smiles at you. He waves.

You smile and raise your hand in greeting. However before you wave, Bakugo suddenly appears behind you. One hand laces into your raised one, other hand landing landing on your hip. Monoma stops dead in his tracks as Bakugo drags you away, and rounds a corner, shoving you into an alleyway. He pushes you against the wall, trapping you between his strong arms. He leans in. His breaths are ragged. He smells musky, but the faint smell of burning sugar lets you know he’s activated his quirk. His jealousy has him practically frothing before you. He’s so close you can feel his short breaths fanning against your lips. Sparks are literally flying.

And he’s diving forward. Two lips meeting. His presence engulfs you. You’re drowning in his sweet taste. Bakugo pushes you flat against your back. He’s pinning you against the wall, you’re stuck, flush against him. He’s hot. Very hot. Your lips are dancing against each other as he devours you. Your tongues fight each other for dominance, but Bakugo’s anger has you caving into him. You let him take the lead as he completely dominates the space between you.

He pulls away, but stays close. He places a kiss on your forehead before moving to rest his head on your shoulder. He takes his arms off the wall and wraps them around your waist.

Suddenly, the angry chihuahua has receded into himself. Too embarrassed to look at you while you desperately try to catch your breath. You bring your arms up to hug him.

“Babe, what are you doing?” you ask, breathlessly. Bakugo, is normally not one for any sort of PDA, sometimes, he won’t even hold your hand. You’ve become rather accustomed to it seeing as Lord Explosion Murder melts into your hands when alone at home. Never in a million years would you expect him to drag you away during an incredibly busy convention to kiss you silly in a barely hidden corner.

Bakugo’s head is currently buried into your shoulder. Upon hearing your question he turns his head and places a shy peck to your neck.

He mumbles, “I’m sorry, I got jealous.”

Jealous? He’s Jealous?

“Of Monoma?”, you ask aloud.

Bakugo’s head immediately shoots up, as if in sudden denial. His red eyes are bursting with rage.

“That Extra was being way too cocky, eyeing you up like that!”

“He waved”

“AND HE WAVED!!”

“That’s really not what I meant”, you say.

“Is it such a big deal? Monoma and I are just friends”, you ask.

“Is he aware that you’re just friends!?”

Feeling your anger suddenly flare, you blurt out, “I’m not seeing the issue Bakugou. Can I not have male friends? What if I’m also into girls too? Should I now delete Momo’s number?”

Bakugo looks like he’s about to spit fire. His mouth opens to protest but no words come out. He huffs. He looks to the sky. He better not be asking for patience, as far as you’re concerned, you haven’t done anything wrong. You’re the one who should be asking for patience. It’s not like you told Monoma that you were single with an open bedroom door. You barely had the chance to wave at him.

“No”, he says reluctantly, “No, you’re right. I think I might’ve blown up a bit. But that extra is always eyeing you. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Love. It’s more that I don't like looking at his sleazy face sending you looks as if he has a chance.”

You laugh. Bakugo’s anger has risen significantly, his scowl is baring teeth. But God Damn you, if he’s not the most adorable you’ve ever seen him. Despite his rising anger you can see he’s really trying his best to calm down and remain calm. It’s not really working. You imagine that Monoma’s head is currently roasting on a spit in his head. Your chuckles begin to subside at his confused expression. His face is the picture of innocence.

You reach forward to grab him, pulling him into a hug. His hard body presses against your own. Despite Bakugo’s initial confusion he wraps his arms around you anyway. You couldn’t believe that he would go so far because he’s jealous. Bakugo isn’t exactly reserved but he is often reluctant to show affection. Most people are still unaware you’re even dating. He prefers to remain in his own world.

“Babe”, you say, “It’s okay to be jealous. I know I would probably bury anybody who thought they could flirt with you, but maybe next time, just tell me. I would rather you tell me, instead of going ape shit.”

You lean up and place your lips on his. This kiss is softer, it lacks the original aggression and desperation but it still feels heated. Possibly, everything that has anything to do with Bakugo, will always feel heated. This man sets the world on fire, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You pull away and move to the entrance of the alleyway. There you have a clear view of Monoma who looks over. He glares at Bakugo and looks at you with a look that simply says, “I’ll kill him if you want,”

You shake your head. Men are so hormonal. Instead you turn back to Bakugo and place your hand on his cheek, rising onto your tippy toes, you peck his lips. You make sure Monoma has a clear view.

Bakugo’s face completely whitens at your bold public display of affection. His surprise reflects on Monomas face as well. Good, that solves that problem.

You reach for Bakugo’s hand and begin to drag him away. His face is still white. His expression is still hollow. His brain is probably still processing. It’s hard to believe that this is the man who was so bold not even 5 minutes ago.

“Eh?”

You giggle up at him. Adorable.

“You know, Babe”, You say, “Maybe you wouldn’t be so jealous if you kept up with me.”

With both hands entwined you break into a sprint. Bakugo’s face finally cracks a smile as he runs beside you.

“Now we’re late!”, You shout.

“I’ll make it up to you Later!” He laughs Back.

#Soft!Bakugo #mha #mha fic #bnha #bnha fic #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #fluff #some soft shit #mha fluff #Bakugo fluff #Cute Bakugo #jealous bakugou #my hero fanfic #my hero x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

410 notes · View notes

dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Steve Rogers, The Man On Fire

Hey y'all, as Pride month draws to a close I would like to post this fic. It's been in my drafts for a month and I finally today found the motivation to finish it. This is special to me for many reasons, one of which being that I'm proudly a part of this community. Some of the anger written in is my own. I think a lot of people will resonate with it. I really hope you all enjoy this and happy Pride Month <3

This was based loosely off a headcannon and once I re-find it I will credit!

Synopsis: Steve is freshly thawed, queer, and pissed | A.k.a. Steve's experience in 21st Century America

Characters: Steve Rogers, Mentions of Bucky Barnes, (loosely a Stucky fic but Steve thinks he's dead here)

Warnings: Angst but not bad, Steve Rogers being volatile and chaotic (we love), poorly written accents (I literally read this with an accent in my head), literally a 2k monologue

Word count: 5.1k

Steve Rogers came out of the ice angry.

No— not angry— Steve Rogers came out of the ice fuckin’ furious.

He came out of the ice with his hands curled into two fists, with his jaw clenched so hard his teeth were liable to snap, and with a bone to pick with every damn reporter and historian and too loud opinion on this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

He came out simmering— no, erupting— like the serum in his blood couldn’t keep his body from hibernation all those years ago but it sure as hell won’t keep him from setting the entirety of New York on fire now. He’ll burn it all down if he has to and rebuild it the way he remembers it— the way Bucky would have remembered it— and at the end of it all no one— not the bigots or deniers or the homophobes that seem to be the only thing that came with him from the forties— will be able to say that Captain America can’t love whoever he wants.

No one will be able to say that Steve Rogers didn’t love James “Bucky” “the man I’ve loved since twelve years old” Barnes with everything he had and then some.

No one.

So he starts with the museums in Washington— because sure it isn’t New York but where else would a relic like himself belong more?

He still has hope when he enters the building. They didn’t make them like this when he was a kid— they had science fairs in the town hall and culture fairs in the backstreets near the docks but never anything this grand. No tall marble pillars or enough stairs to make him wonder if he would have been able to climb to the top when he was half the size he is now. It’s strange. It’s kind of wonderful. Yeah, the Smithsonian museums make Steve Rogers feel small for the first time in a very long time and that gives him hope.

That hope doesn’t last long, though, because soon he’s wandering through the halls, following the signs that say Captain America: The First Avenger— what the hell is an Avenger? Is that what they’re calling soldiers these days? Now he feels small and old.

Turning the corner is like landing on another planet, one devoted entirely to him. His picture is everywhere he looks, his name is in lights, even his damn uniform has been replicated and presented on a little stage and he hates it. The rage is back, sparking at his fingers— he’s a match and lucky for everyone this building is made of stone because if it wasn’t he’s sure it would be reduced to nothing but ash by now.

It only worsens as he begins reading through the plaques and the paragraphs flashing across screens on the walls— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that. The more he reads, though, the more he wonders if the stone is really, truly safe from the fire in his blood. He doesn’t think it is.

He surely isn’t at least— he feels like he’s going to explode. This isn’t him— none of this is him. War hero. Martyr. Golden boy. He has to stop reading that plaque— clearly no one did their research. Clearly no one dug up his medical files— or his police records. Brawls at the pub, disorderly conduct behind Mr. De Luca’s sandwich shop, public nudity at the beach that one time— thank you Bucky for the best night of his god damn life. Golden boy— ha.

Golden nobody with the black eye and broken hand is more like it.

For a moment he thinks he’s fine— he thinks it can’t get worse than this. Then he gets to the early life section and for an even longer moment his tongue tastes like gunpowder.

Steven Grant Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his friend James Buchanan Barnes—

He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence— not when they already got the most important part wrong. Friend. Friend? No, no, no. No! There are a million words in the english language that Steve could use to describe Bucky and ‘friend’ will never be the first one.

How about best friend?

How about partner in crime?

How about soulmate who loved Steve so much that every night for the past forty-eight days since he woke up in an era that Bucky doesn’t exist in he’s cried himself to sleep with the same cherry cola taste of his ‘friend’ on his tongue.

It’s the final straw— Steve loses it.

“Anyone got a marker?”

The museum is quiet before he speaks but when his voice— steadily rising and taking on that New York headiness that his troops used to jazz him about— cuts through the exhibit— his fuckin’ exhibit— it’s silent. It’s dead, almost as dead as Buck— Nobody dares move a muscle as he rips his ball cap off his head and throws it at the statue of himself. Everyone knows who he is— everyone is going to know who he is so help him god.

“I said—” he tries again— “does anyone have a marker?”

It takes a moment for the people around him to pick their jaws up off the floor and he allows them that moment with a smug grin starting to tug on the corners of his lips. Finally— they’re starting to get it.

He’s not a hero; he’s a supernova of every scrawny, queer kid who’s ever gotten beaten to a pulp for kissing who they want.

Maybe then it’s fitting that the marker— when it’s finally produced and placed in his waiting palm— comes from a teenage girl with a shaved head and a blue, pink, and purple denim jacket and a busted lip. She doesn’t say much— only a mumbled here you go— but her eyes say everything that her words don’t. Give em’ hell, Cap. For the first time since waking up he flashes a genuine grin back— yeah, this one’s for you kid.

Steve wastes no time uncapping the sharpie— he’ll look that one up later— and scratching out the error. The blasphemy to his unholy name. It takes him a little longer to decide what to write in its place. There are a million words, sure, but somehow none of them feel right at this moment. None of them are enough. That’s something he’ll have to come to terms with later, though— how much nothing feels like enough anymore without Bucky.

Finally Steve settles on a word and he scribbles it as neatly as he can given the fact that he hasn’t had to write anything in eighty years. When he takes a step back, feeling alive for the first time since waking up, he beckons over the girl with the shaved head and points to the place where he’s taken it upon himself to correct history.

“Hey kid, why don’t you go ahead and read that outloud for everyone here.”

He allows another moment— this time because she deserves the time it takes for her eyes to light up and the smile to stretch across her bruised mouth.

Steve laughs— a rusted, croaky laugh; another first in forever— when her head whips around, facing him as she loudly proclaims: “It says boyfriend. Steve Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his boyfriend Bucky Barnes!”

“Damn right I did—” he mutters to the kid before taking a step towards the crowd of gaping mouths. “Did you all hear that? Don’t worry if ya’ didn’t— I’ll say it one more time. Boyfriend. Bucky was my boyfriend and if he was here today he would be my husband. If any of you have a problem with that then feel free to take it up with me. I took on half of Brooklyn for that man and I’ll do it again.”

When no one says anything Steve nods, turning to hand the girl back her marker and to thank her— he may be angry but he hasn’t lost all his manners— but when he looks at her she doesn’t look back. Instead she takes the same step forward that he had, one of her hands balled into a tiny, shaking fist at her side and the other wrapped around a cell phone that’s pointed towards the crowd. He doesn’t understand the mechanics but he thinks she’s recording.

“You hear that?” She parrots the super soldier with a wavering but fierce voice. “Captain America likes men! And none of you can deny it!”

This time it’s his mouth that drops, watching as she shakily turns the camera off and spins back around. Before Steve can say anything, though, she’s talking again, this time hastier, and he can’t help but think that she sounds so much like him. All flushed and scrawny and pissed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll delete the recording if you want but, I jus’ know these bigots are gonna’ try and cover everything up and that would be a fuckin’ shame. I don’t know if you know how many kids need to hear this. I did— and I think they should too. Only if you want, of course.”

He doesn’t answer right away— he can’t. It’s like looking at himself at fifteen. Suddenly he’s back again, his feet hanging in the water as his boyfriend paces behind him, asking if he’s ready to have him look at his knuckles yet. He didn’t get that many good punches in— the scrapes are mostly from the pavement— but Buck always worries too much so it doesn’t matter. The protective idiot.

Steve shakes his head, blinking away the sunset lingering behind his eyes. “Bucky woulda’ loved you, kid.”

The next time he loses it— the next time he turns into more flame than man— is after he saves the city he’s been trying to burn down for three months.

It isn’t long after that day in the museum when Nick Fury decides it would be best for everyone if Steve goes back into the field. Of course, no one really asks him what he wants— they pretty much just shove a new suit into his hands and tell him to get training, Captain— but what else is new?

No one really comments on his outburst besides that either. Can you really call it an outburst when you’re just trying to reclaim the parts of you that have been stolen? Sure, the press gets a hold of the story and, true to what the kid had said, tries to twist it into something more digestible, but no one actually addresses it up with Steve. Apparently when someone saves the world as good as he does no one cares that they kiss men.

Or that they don’t wanna’ to actually save the world anymore.

See, in those three months— between the training and training and even more training that Steve Rogers begrudgingly obliges— he has time to catch up on the world. More importantly, he has time to catch up on what the world thinks of him. He scours a plethora of documentaries, scholarly essays, and whole books of information about his time as Captain America. Well— his time as Captain America when it mattered. In all his scouring he learns one thing: everything written about him is wrong.

It’s all so fuckin’ wrong.

Just why the hell would he want to save a world so bent on destroying who he is?

The Smithsonian exhibition was nothing compared to what’s been written in the eighty years he spent in the ice. Better yet, nothing compared to what hasn’t been written about him. They’ve taken an eraser to every part of his life that doesn’t fit with the golden image that they constructed for him. A.k.a. every part that matters. His relationship, his past, every little thing that made him supposedly perfect for the role he was given. Gone. Erskine told him he was a good man— apparently he was the only one who thought so.

Apparently being a good man isn’t good enough.

They only wanted the perfect soldier. Yeah, well, they had one and they fucked him over too. Don’t even get him started on what they did to Bucky— Steve doesn’t want to think about what Winnifred— Winnie for short— Barnes would do if she saw the history books erasing her baby’s Jewish roots. Or his relationship. It wouldn’t be pretty, that’s for damn sure. If ever there was someone more protective than Bucky it would have been his mother. Not that there’s a damn note about her in anything either though.

Maybe that’s the final straw that does him in this time— watching the place that Mrs. Barnes loved more than almost anything else in the world crumble, while also knowing that the world no longer gives a shit about the two people she loved more.

“Mr. Rogers, this is where you grew up, is it not? Is there anything you would like to say about what took place here in your home city today?”

Maybe he pretends not to hear the last part— maybe he really does only hear up until where the reporter asks him if there is anything he wants to say. He’s been around quite his fair share of explosions; it would make sense that his hearing is a little off. Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore, though.

Scratch that— he definitely doesn’t care anymore.

And why the fuck should he? He does have something to say and propriety be damned he’s going to say it.

Steve stares into the crowd of faceless reporters and flashing cameras with a scowl on his grimey face. Around him stand the other Avengers— his ‘team’. The last time he had a team the historians screwed up the history for every single member. Dugan, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, Dernier, Sawyer, Juniper, Pinkerton. Barnes. All of them were brave men with families and sacrifices and all of them were treated like jokes by ‘reporters’ just like the ones in front of him now. He really doubts there’s a difference between old and new journalism.

The only difference is that now he’s here and this time he’s not going to let them write anything but the damn truth.

“It is—” Steve muses, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead— “I’m surprised you know that though.”

The reporter cocks his head, clearly confused, and it makes the super soldier’s blood boil. “Come again, sir?”

“I said I’m surprised you know where I was born, kid.” This time when he says the word— kid— it’s derogatory. “Ya’ know, considering how you all seem to know nothing about me otherwise.”

Steve almost smiles at the way the crowd tenses. He actually would if it weren’t for the white hot rage coursing through his veins, mingling with the last of the adrenaline leftover in his system. It gives him an extra kick— not that he needs it. Even when he was just a runt from the wrong side of the tracks he needed nothing more than an offhand comment to raise his fists. Fighting to Steve Rogers has always been intoxicating— the aftershocks of winning the battle just makes it more thrilling now.

Who knew, right?

“Sir I asked—” The reporter sputters and Steve simply holds a hand up, silencing him before he can start again.

“Yeah I know what you asked, alright. You want me to talk about the battle here in New York today and how I am more than happy to have risked my life to save it. But I can’t do that, kid. Because I didn’t save it for you. I didn’t save it for any of you.”

Steve feels his team tense— maybe were it any other time he would stop talking. He would just leave it, let the issue go, because Bucky would tell him too. They aren’t worth it, bruiser, he would say, they aren’t worth your blood. Maybe he would listen to his boyfriend because usually he was right. Bucky was always right. So yeah, maybe he would list—

Who is he kidding; he knows he wouldn’t.

Not then and certainly not now— not when Bucky isn’t here to defend himself against everything Steve has been reading about. That’s exactly why he doesn’t stop talking. Someone has to defend him and who better of a person than him? So, yeah, he keeps going, even when he hears footsteps behind him.

“You wanna’ know who I did save it for? James Barnes, that’s who I saved it for! You see, just around that corner there is a bookstore. Rickley Books. That was my boyfriend's favourite bookstore. You know, the man who gave his life to stop a train in Austria from reaching the enemies? Yeah that was him. That train was filled with supplies. Had it reached their headquarters, who knows if we’d be standing here today. If there would be a New York at all. Not that you would know that. But who cares about that dead sergeant from the 107th, right? There’s plenty just like him.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly— a move he picked up from the very man he’s speaking about— but he spits his words at the reporters with enough venom to cancel out any peace that the action brings. That’s his own move.

He keeps going. “You know who else I saved it for? His mother. Yeah, his mother Winnie Barnes. Wonderful lady. She used to run a soup kitchen a couple blocks from here. Kept the rift raft like myself from going hungry most nights— I was a brawler, you know.”

A couple of reporters in the crowd laugh at that and Steve flinches, his vision tinting red as he cranes his neck, seeking them out.

“Oh you think that’s funny, do you? You think I’m joking? I’m not. You ever been backed into a corner, son? Had people hurl slurs at you that I can’t even repeat today? Ever been beaten up for loving your best friend? No, I bet you haven’t. You weren’t a queer kid in the thirties. That’s hard— that’s borderline impossible actually. I only made it because of people like Winnie Barnes. That woman was a saint but nobody talks about her either.”

Steve has to take a deep breath, clearing the rasp in his voice that rises as he dwells on the woman he called his second mother for so long. She wasn’t just a saint, she was an angel. He can’t cry here though, not now. Not even as his throat begins to tighten.

“Winnie was the type of lady who didn’t let anyone walk over the little people. She used to sit me down and say Stevie you gotta’ fight for what you want because ain’t nobody gonna’ give it to you. She told me that I shouldn’t have to but that there were going to be people who would try to tear me down just for being me. And she was right— just like her son— because that was the era, you know? But now, here in the twenty-first century, you’re all still trying to tear us down.”

A hand lands on his shoulder, small fingers tugging at where his suit has begun to tear. Natasha Romanoff. He meets her gaze quickly, neck craning to stare down the red head, and in the few seconds their eyes meet it’s like Bucky is next to him. Somehow the blue in her irises catches the falling sun just like his used to. Steve can hear the gruff of his voice in the depths of his mind. Back down, bruiser. The sentiment is echoed across Nat’s face.

Steve shakes her hand off him, turning back to the reporters— don’t they know that he can’t?

“You all say you care about me, huh? That I’m a hero? You know nothing about me— you don’t want to. Before I was a soldier I was a kid. A queer kid. I said that already but let me repeat it. Queer. Did you write that down? None of you certainly did before. That’s how I know that you don’t care— because in an age where being queer is infinitely more accepted you still don’t bother to write it down.”

He pauses for another breath, shutting his eyes against the blinking red lights of the cameras. They’re like little demons, always watching his every move. Recording. Everything’s always recorded these days. Will he ever be used to that? Bucky was the technology guy, not him. Not then and not now.

When Steve picks up again— eyes open and shoulders freshly straight— it’s on a new note— a clear note.

“You don’t care about me— you certainly don’t care about the real heroes of the war because if you did you wouldn’t erase our history. Do you know how much it would have meant to Bucky to see our relationship accepted? The man who died for you? How much it would’ve meant to his mother? You can’t just pick which of our stories and our sacrifices are worthy and which aren't.”

He hasn’t spoken this much since he’s woken up, not all at once at least. Maybe he should have, though— maybe if he had then he wouldn’t feel like ripping the heads off everyone in front of him right now. Call it fight or flight. Call it revenge. Hell, call it whatever you’d like because it doesn’t really matter. Either way he feels like a kid again— again— backed into a corner behind the deli with his fists up and his teeth bared.

He feels feral again.

“So now you just want me to save the world like I did— like Bucky did— all those years ago— or maybe jus’ New York— as if that’s any better— and you don’t even bother to write a proper article about me? Hell, I never even asked for an article, let alone a whole exhibit! I’m just a soldier— and before that I was just a kid. If there’s never another article written about me I’ll be grateful. But now that I’m here, standing in front of you, I’ll say this—”

Just as Steve’s voice is cresting into a shout that would no doubt be heard regardless of whether or not the microphones were in front of him, Natasha tries one more time, her fingers slipping between his.

Her voice is a dull buzz compared to his, only reaching his ears by sheer will. “C’mon Stevie— we gotta’ go now.”

Like before he’s stunned but this time instead of seeing Buck— instead of hearing him in his head— he hears Winnie.

You fought good, honey. You fought good for us. You can rest now.

It’s jarring and it’s not lost on him the handful of awkward seconds that it takes for him to respond. That’s just the effect Winnie had on people though— still has, apparently. Steve shakes his head— I know, mama. But I gotta’ finish this fight.

“No, Nat— I’ve got to say this.” Steve mumbles— voice just beginning to waver despite how hard he clenches his jaw— before sneering at the crowd one last time.

“If I ever read an article from any of you that discredits Bucky Barnes, our relationship, or myself just know that I’ll come for you. I’ll come for this city. Don’t you ever forget who I saved it for. James Barnes, Winnie Barnes, and every queer kid who’s ever felt erased because of people like you. The bigots in the forties couldn’t stop me. The Nazis couldn’t stop me. Not even the Atlantic Ocean could stop me. So don’t think for a second that any of you could either. Have a good day.”

With that Captain America turns, marching off the impromptu stage and beginning the trek back to his apartment. He doesn’t bother looking at his team as he passes them— he can imagine their stunned faces well enough on his own. No doubt he’ll be getting another assignment from Fury soon enough to make up for this ‘outburst’ too. Still, he feels a little bit better. There’s an ache in his shoulder, and one under his ribs too, but he still smiles as he passes Rickman and Sons Books. That must mean something good.

The last time Steve Rogers burns he doesn’t burn the way he’s expecting to— he doesn’t vandalize his own name or blow up at a reporter. No, the third time— the final time— that Steve Rogers burns it’s with nostalgia— and with a damn good cup of coffee in his hand.

“I had no idea this place was even here.” The girl across from Steve muses, tiny hands shifting the steaming cup back and forth.

Her name is Ellie, he learned that back at the museum after asking for a copy of the video she took. He barely knew how to use his phone back then, let alone his email— hell, both still confuse him more often than not— but she had been patient. A little awestruck and a little riled up too but he took it in stride— easily. It’s not hard being nice to the spitting image of him.

“I’m glad I’m good for something other than making the news.” Steve chuckles and this time he means it— there’s no malice or ill intent, only humor. “O’Malley’s ‘s been here longer than I have. Looked a little different then—” he takes a moment to let his eyes wander the old coffee shop and it’s new appliances— a moment to feel his age catch up to him— “but I guess I did too.”

Ellie’s laughter joins in there and it’s strange— strange that he hasn’t laughed with another person in seven, almost eight, months; strange that her laughs sound so much like Bucky’s when they were younger; strange that Bucky isn’t here to hear. Here to laugh, too. Because he would have.

He would have called Steve an old man, would have wrapped his arm around his shoulders, would have asked— no, demanded— that Ellie try the plum cobbler. They always made the best cobbler. Bucky always had the best laugh. All grit and breath and him. Steve feels warm just thinking about it.

“Well thanks for letting me in on the secret, I’ll make sure to guard it carefully.” She even has Bucky’s warm sarcasm.

Maybe it’s not so much like looking in a mirror as it is looking at what he wishes he and his boyfriend could have been back then.

“And thanks for letting me interview you—” Ellie continues, setting the cup down but not before nodding at it, her eyes wide— “wow. You weren’t kidding about the joe, huh? Anyway— thanks for scheduling this. I know you’re probably super busy— and that there are more well established people you could have gone to.”

Steve sets his own mug down too— if he hadn’t there’s a possibility it would be more puddle than porcelain. “Well established means nothin’, kid. Not when you don’t have heart. They’re parasites, all of ‘em. The press couldn’t care less about me.”

Ellie nods, lifting the lid of her laptop. It’s a little bit dented and slathered in stickers, not quite the newest model— he would know, he has the newest one and it’s still sitting in his apartment in the box. Yet another testament to how little the people around him truly know him.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, can I get you a side of classism with that commercialism?”

Now she sounds like Winnie too.

“Say, has anyone ever told you that you’re funny?”

She shrugs, tilting her head, a lopsided grin glued to her face. “Once or twice— I never know if they mean it or if they just want me to shut up. I never do so I guess we’ll never know.”

Steve sputters out another laugh because; “I guess we’re the same then— never give them a moment, kid. That’s the best advice I can give you.” He pauses— again— he supposes it’s going to be a day of pausing— he supposes it’s about time he pauses— before adding, “Bucky would’ve scolded me for saying that.”

Ellie’s fingers, swift and deft over the machine— Steve hadn’t even seen her begin to type— pause too as her smile softens. “What would he have said instead?”

Her question shouldn’t catch off guard— this is why he asked her to meet him; to finally, properly write his story— their story. Still he pauses— Steve’s empty hands feel hot, his shoulders warm; bare— what would he have said? It doesn’t take long to hear his boyfriend’s voice, not there but somehow loud in his ear all the same.

Just relax— they aren’t worth it. It’s too nice out to care about anything but the water— are you coming in or not? Summer doesn’t last forever, you know?

It’s impossible but Steve can feel the sun on his back and on his ears again, like he’s there— like he’s back, sixteen and on fire. Those were the days where everything made him cold. The days where his skin burned no matter the season but especially in August which was when the ocean was warm enough to swim in. It never stopped him from joining Buck— nothing could have stopped him. His cheeks warm, too, at the thought.

Steve blinks, his own smile— perhaps a little lopsided in it’s own right— shaping over his mouth. “He would have told you to relax— and to try the plum cobbler. It’s fantastic.”

With another giggle— and a reiterated comment— has anyone ever told you you’re funny, Steve?— they fall into a conversation, just a kid and a relic, about life. It’s not an easy conversation— but then again those kinds never are. It’s real, though, and unedited. Unfiltered. Just the way Erskine and Winnie and Bucky would have liked it— the only way Steve wants it. It’s not perfect but, hell, Steve has never been perfect.

He’s never wanted to be.

Maybe Steve doesn’t know everything his boyfriend would say— and maybe he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t blow up once or twice after today— but he can confidently say that he gave Brooklyn a run for her money— twice— and lived to tell the tale. He can say then when it mattered, he burned. That he still burns. That he will until he doesn’t— until he’s extinguished.

But, hey, though Summer doesn’t last forever, not even the Atlantic could extinguish the flame that is Steve Rogers.

That’s what he writes— in Sharpie— on the card he writes to Ellie— the one attached to the computer he knows he’ll never use.

#Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Stucky #steve x bucky #Queer!steve rogers #Queer!Steve #Queer!Bucky #Queer!Bucky Barnes #Captain America #pride month #Steve angst #steve fluff #Marvel cinematic universe #Mcu #mcu fic #steve fic

63 notes · View notes

sugawara-sweetheart · 3 years

Note

Hey bby!! I saw that you lost my ask last week and I did another one but tumblr probably ate that one too:/. Anywho, just wanted to gush about blood is thicker than water. That was a masterpiece!! Was just wondering what sakusa’s reaction was to finding out you left him/town, not showing up to family get togethers. Did he have a tantrum throwing shit? Or did he just simmer in anger(fists clenched) and wait for the perfect moment. This was sooo good and everything you write is fucking perfect. Stay happy and healthy!❤️

hi!!! yes tumblr deleted a bunch of my asks :<

thank you so much for reading it! i’m so happy you enjoyed it🥺it means a lot to me hehe. i’ll answer your questions under the cut! but thank you for asking them and i hope you have a wonderful day❤️

tw incest (cousin sakusa), implied noncon, obsessive behaviour, implied violence, stalking

so i’m not sure if you mean this before or after the fic taking place but i think the reactions would be the same either way

i think sakusa would initially feel a small semblance of pride? he has this horrible sadistic thrill of causing reader fear; ever since he was young he’s always indulged in scaring her, first in little childish harmless ways and then eventually it escalates to him violating her- both a few years before the fic takes place and again during the fic. i think both of those times when you disappear afterwards sakusa would feel a little triumphant that he’s managed to hurt you. he’d probably get off remembering your little pathetic pleads and begs, how you struggled, how you cried and he’d see it as a win.

but the thing with thrills you need them more and more. they become addictive.

and then you’re gone. every time he makes the effort to show up to a family event or your family go around to his parents’ home, you’re never there. he never gets to see your wide scared little eyes struggling to make eye contact or seeing your cold hands tremble. and your brother and mum are so fucking vague- where’s your new job? where do you live? how far is it- who do you live with? what’s your new phone number? it’s like you’re a ghost and eventually when sakusa realises you’ve been too smart, you’ve not told your family anything, he will feel like losing it. he likes control, he likes the power and you disappearing out of the blue has ripped the power straight from his hands.

but he’s got an advantage. a pro-athlete, handsome, intimidating, smart- it isn’t hard to track down your friends on facebook. of course you’ve deactivated. they remember your cousin sakusa- hell, most of them had a silly crush on him that still hasn’t faded fully so it’s not hard to prise some information out of them. he’s found out the town and with your career it’s not hard to narrow down some jobs, calculate your salary and figure out where you’d be able to afford to live. his days off are spent driving around the quiet streets- it’s so boring, so quiet it’s the perfect place to hide and so quaint and cute, of course you’d like a place like this. dragging along atsumu with his handsome face and charming smile and handing him a pic of you, nobody in all the shops thinks twice about him asking ‘have you seen this girl? she’s my friend and i want to surprise her’ and in a small place like this someone knows someone who knows you.

you’re so oblivious of the person walking up the stairwell behind you as you’re going up to your apartment, humming as you carry up your grocery bags. you don’t look behind once, not even when you’re unlocking your front door and you hear the small cough behind you.

all the food spills over the old welcome mat when you turn around and fuck- sakusa has missed seeing those beautiful eyes widened in such horror, your hands shaking you can’t even force the key into the lock. it’s so much better than his memories seeing it fresh again and he chuckles as he wraps his hand around your cold fingers, helping you turn the key into the lock with his body pressed against yours.

“it’s been so long, hasn’t it? you should care about your family more rather than disappearing like that. you had me worried.” the tears welling in your eyes make the blood rush to his cock but right now he’s more focused on that searing rage rushing through him and the irresistible itch in his fists to teach you a fucking lesson.

#tw.noncon #tw.incest #tw.stalking #tw.obsessive behaviour #darkconfectionery asks #sweetheart asks <3 #sweetheart: shadowkunoichi

86 notes · View notes

quicksilversquared · 4 years

Text

More than a Match

Felix Graham de Vanily is back in Paris for the summer, determined to make amends with his cousin. While standing in for Adrien at a photoshoot, he has to deal with a most disagreeable character by the name of Lila.

Unstoppable force, meet immovable object. There can only be one winner here, and Felix is not about to lose.

links in the reblog

Felix Graham de Vanily was more than a little apprehensive about returning to Paris for his mom's summer movie shoot, and for good reason.

The last time that he was in the city, he had caused no small amount of chaos. He had threatened his relationship with Adrien over a (in retrospect) petty, poorly-considered attempt at revenge- how badly their friendship had been damaged really remained to be seen- and gotten off on the wrong foot with all of Adrien's friends, which could make finding people to hang out with more than a little difficult. During that same revenge attempt, he had truly behaved poorly towards one of the city's superheroes, and he would have to try to apologize for it if he could get close to the superheroes again without endangering his life. On top of that, he had palmed his uncle's ring, which- well, was it really stealing when Mr. Agreste had gotten them through less-than-honest means in the first place?- with the full expectation that it would be at least a year before he and his mom returned to Paris, so his uncle might have simmered down by then.

It hadn't been anywhere near a full year yet. His uncle would no doubt still be furious about the retrieval of the ring, and so Felix had to be very careful with it.

Right now, that meant wearing the ring on a strong chain around his neck, hidden under his shirt. If he was going to be spending more than the odd minute here or there in the Agreste mansion, he and his mom might end up looking into getting a safe box for them to lock the ring up in, so that his uncle wouldn't steal it back.

"Don't let on that you're nervous," his mom coached as their train pulled into the Paris stop. "Be confident, don't react to questions about the rings. With a little luck, perhaps your uncle will assume that he misplaced it. Emilie always said that he would mess with his ring when he was designing and she was worried that he'd end up taking it off and misplacing it for good. He's already called me once demanding the ring back and I told him that we didn't have it and maybe he had just lost it."

Which meant that Felix could just act bored about the accusation instead of being surprised. That was useful information.

"I also got us an apartment that's a bit further outside of the city center," his mom continued after a moment. "Both to stay out of the way of the majority of the akuma attacks, and to give us some space from your uncle. We're near a subway line, though, so it'll be easy enough to go and visit."

Felix nodded. His mom had already mentioned that, and he knew that there was a third reason, too: apartments of a decent size close to the city center were expensive. Their family might be wealthy, but (largely due to his father's influence, Felix suspected) they still had never be people to throw money around without due consideration first. "But Uncle Gabriel won't bother to come out and bug us?"

"Of course not. When was the last time that he left that house of his? And if he does- well, I have no problems with kicking up a legal stink. Gabriel would do well to remember that the only reason he has connections to the Mayor's family is because of Emilie and I, so he has no advantage there." Amelie sniffed. "Not that he'll bother to remember that. If anyone asks him, I'm sure he would say that he worked himself up from nothing and made all of his connections himself with his superior bargaining skills."

"Ah, yes, the scowling and yelling and refusing to meet in person is very persuasive, I had forgotten."

Amelie laughed. "Yes, exactly. Emilie was the one who handled more of the PR and meetings with investors, really. If Gabriel had been trying to do it himself, he would have failed miserably." She shrugged, turning back to him with a large smile. "Don't let your uncle ruin your summer, Felix. He roars and rages a lot, but he's always been all bark and no bite."

Felix nodded, taking a steadying breath as the train came to a complete stop and they got up, reaching for their bags. "Right. Of course."

Somehow, he got the impression that that would be easier said than done.

Really, it- it wasn't as terrible as Felix had thought. The summer had started out slowly- he had seen Adrien at dinner shortly after arriving in Paris, and then Felix had spent a week and a half entertaining himself while his mom started filming on the movie and his cousin finished up his school year.

It wasn't bad, really. He found a small bookstore that was cool and quiet, and he settled down there in a corner to read. It was nice and it was peaceful.

Alas, it was not to last. His mom expected that he would go hang out with Adrien, and so... Felix did. The first three times that he went over, the two of them simply hung out in Adrien's room for part of the day and played some of the video games that Adrien had around. His cousin seemed on high alert at first- Felix certainly noticed fewer things lying around his room, and there were several things with locks on them that hadn't had locks before- but willing enough to try again. By day three, their conversations were far more relaxed, and Adrien spent nearly an hour telling Felix about all of his friends. He wasn't bragging about having them, Felix could tell, but was just genuinely happy to have them and wanted to share that with him.

...unfortunately, Felix knew that it was more likely than not that a large number of Adrien's friends would not be very thrilled to meet him. He had not made a particularly good first impression, to say the least, and they- unlike Adrien- had not had any other interactions with him to go by. Felix didn't resent them for their judgement of him (after all, he rather deserved it, he could admit that much) but it would make meeting them a bit awkward, particularly if Adrien hadn't had a chance to mention how things were going now first.

Or if Felix hadn't done anything obvious to make amends for his earlier behavior. Thankfully, an opportunity to both put off the inevitable meeting and to make things up to Adrien properly practically fell in his lap after Nathalie scheduled a photoshoot right when Adrien was hoping to get together with his friends.

Or, rather, when Adrien had put a meet-up with his friends on his schedule and Nathalie deleted it last-minute to replace it with yet another photoshoot, because apparently she didn't know the meaning of fun. Or being nice, or kindness, or not being a terrible human being, really.

"Are- are you sure that you want to model, Felix? It's not exactly the most fun thing in the world."

Felix nodded resolutely, glancing towards his cousin's door and hoping that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. "You want to be with your friends, and I would like to make a good impression this time around before meeting them anyway. It's no big deal. I can sit and make clothes look good for an hour or two."

At last, Adrien nodded in agreement. "I- okay, if you're sure. I'll text you the time and location, so you have it, and-"

"Won't your bodyguard be expecting to drive you there?"

Adrien paused. "...oh. Oh, yeah."

Felix tried not to sigh. Oh, yes was right. Clearly logistics weren't his cousin's strongest point.

"Well, I can ask him to bring me there early, so that I can have some time to relax in the park!" Adrien said after a moment's thought. "And then we can meet and swap outfits there- or I'll bring an extra, actually, it'll be less hassle. It'll be harder for me to get to Marinette's place from there, but I'll manage it. There's a bus line nearby that'll get me close enough."

"Your father actually lets you out enough for you to know how to take the bus?" Felix inquired, unable to help feeling a little incredulous. His cousin hadn't been allowed to walk to his collège, which was only a few mere blocks away, so he had assumed that his uncle had required use of the chauffeured car for all of his other travel. "Count me impressed."

A quick grin flashed across Adrien's face. "He doesn't let me out, exactly. I tend to sneak out. And then, of course, I need to know how to get where I'm going fast, or else I'll get picked up by the Gorilla right away before I have a proper chance of escape."

...that was just sad.

"Anyway, I should probably coach you if we're actually going to do this. You know, give you some pointers and all. Uh." Adrien twisted his ring around, glancing up at the ceiling as though that was going to help him any. "Um."

Felix rolled his eyes. "I hardly think that I'll need extensive coaching to be able to sit in front of a camera and pose."

"Yes, but-"

"Will I need to know several dozen poses to do in rapid-fire succession? I've heard that some models do that."

Adrien sighed. "No, Simon prefers to take more organic shots. I've been learning the fast poses on my own, in case I ever get a photographer who needs that or if I end up branching out and start modeling for catalogues instead of just ads, but Father prefers Simon's artistic vision. So he'll tell you what he wants in general, then give tweaks. Like, there's some moving my head around, maybe, but..." He trailed off, shrugging.

Well. If Felix actually needed any advice to pass off as Adrien during the photoshoot, he was pretty certain that he would be more or less out of luck. With advice like that, it would be a wonder if he wasn't left completely unprepared when he arrived.

"I've not had, like, professional training as a model or anything," Adrien added after a moment. "It's all been informal, which is maybe a bit unusual considering what father's like the rest of the time, but maybe it's good for publicity somehow or something." He shrugged, looking remarkably unbothered by the prospect of his father basing his decision on how to treat Adrien during photoshoots on what would sell best. "So just listen to Simon and don't forget to look towards the camera unless he tells you otherwise, and don't be too stiff but don't slouch, either, and-"

Felix tried not to sigh.

"If- if Lila's there, just- ugh. Just don't agree to anything she says, and- well, she still tries to lie to me all the time, even though I know better than to trust anything she says. She loves manipulating people, so..."

Adrien's comment about his sometimes-coworker- probably the most intriguing and useful part of his "advice" for the photoshoot once he actually managed to think of something to say- ran through Felix's head as he arrived at the site for the photoshoot, a lovely little park in a less busy part of the city. This Lila character sounded like trouble, and he wasn't much interested in trouble. Or in being manipulated, for that matter.

How very fortunate, then, that Felix had more than a little experience with manipulation. He would be able to spot any attempts coming from a mile away. From what Felix could gather, this Lila person was a sloppy manipulator at best, relying on flashy stories and crocodile tears to keep her influence. They were things that would perhaps work in the short term but would wear off and become ineffective in the long run, particularly once people started picking up on inconsistencies. Eventually, things would backfire on her, and then she would be left alone and hated.

Felix preferred more subtle manipulation, and (unless he was not thinking clearly) only when a situation warranted it. A little nudge here and there to increase the odds of things going his way was rather different than Lila's graceless shoves to make everything go her way, to get the kind of popularity that Lila clearly wanted. His technique was sustainable- after all, infrequent manipulations were less likely to be picked up on- while hers was not.

His cousin hadn't really said much about Lila other than to mention that she might be there and to not fall for her lies, but Felix already disliked her.

"Felix! You got here all right, good!"

Felix pushed away his thoughts and smiled as Adrien ran up. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, presumably with an identical outfit to the one that he was wearing. "Yes, I've had sufficient down time to figure out the system. It wasn't hard to puzzle out."

"Oh, great." Adrien glanced around, clearly making sure that he wasn't being followed, and then passed his bag off to Felix after pulling a smaller bag out from inside of it. "I have an identical outfit in here. Are you good, or...?"

"I'll be fine," Felix assured him. "Go on, go hang out with your friends." He paused and considered Adrien. "Ah, are you going to wear a disguise or something? You know, in case anyone takes pictures of you and posts them?"

Adrien nodded, pulling- surprise, surprise- a baseball hat and a large pair of sunglasses out of his bag. "Yeah, this will work fine! There's plenty of guys in France with blond hair, so as long as my hair isn't visible and they can't see all of my face..."

Felix hoped, for Adrien's sake, that that actually somehow worked and he didn't run into any of his more fanatical fans. Maybe the most basic of disguises would work against most of the population, but there were a few weirdos who probably prided themselves on being able to identify his cousin with the smallest of clues.

"Anyway, hopefully it'll work," Adrien finished after a moment's pause. He glanced back at Felix. "Are you sure you're good?"

"Positive. Go."

Adrien went. Felix watched him for a minute, then made a beeline for the public restrooms building that he had seen earlier. He hated the idea of changing in it, truth be told, but he hardly had a choice.

...well, maybe he could have coordinated outfits with Adrien yesterday and only had to fiddle with his hairstyle at the park instead, but hindsight was 20/20.

Despite Felix's worries, the bathrooms weren't bad at all. He changed quickly and did a fast brushing of his hair into Adrien's hairstyle- it was a little difficult to account for the difference in their hair length in a few places, but he managed it well enough- before leaving the restroom and tracking down the plaza where the photoshoot would be taking place. It was a fairly basic set-up, honestly- a small trailer with the outfits to be worn in it, an equally small tent for changing, a couple chairs for touch-ups to makeup and hair with a screen nearby to block the wind. A few things for lighting and the photography equipment were scattered around, but otherwise it was incredibly minimal.

He had to wonder what normal shoots- ones that weren't solely for the boss's son- looked like. Surely not everything that Gabriel did was so low-budget.

"Ah, Adrien, you're on time- early, even!" A man with a camera hanging around his neck- Simon, Felix assumed- appeared behind him, clapping him on the shoulder and making Felix startle. He chuckled. "That's a nice change from the past couple shoots, hmm?"

Felix only nodded, not sure what to say. In all honesty, he hadn't been expecting the photoshoot's staff to be talking to him much, other than to issue directions for the shoot itself. If he had known that they were likely to be chatty, he would have asked Adrien more questions.

Thankfully, Simon seemed willing enough to move on, immediately turning to the job at hand. The first outfit that "Adrien" was supposed to wear was already in the tent, so if he could just go ahead and change so that they could get started...

Felix was more than willing to comply. The sooner they started, then maybe the sooner they would finish. And while Felix didn't exactly have anything else that he wanted to do- hanging out at his cousin's house while Adrien wasn't there didn't sound like fun, nor was he particularly interested in crashing Adrien's friends' get-together- it was hot outside and changing into a dozen different outfits in quick succession and getting poked and prodded at wasn't Felix's idea of a good time.

Three outfits in, and Felix noticed a girl lingering around the edges of the photoshoot area. She wasn't getting shooed off by security, which meant that it was incredibly likely that she was meant to be there. And sure enough, a minute later, the girl headed into the second half of the changing tent.

That must be the Lila that Adrien had warned him about. Felix had rather hoped that he would get lucky and not have to deal with the liar, but apparently luck wasn't on his side today.

Or was it? Felix gave that a minute's thought. He had been a bit bored thus far, and doing a bit of manipulative sparring might be just the thing to spice up his afternoon. Little Miss Terror wouldn't be expecting it- after all, Felix didn't doubt that Adrien's approach to Lila was rather on the tepid side- and it might be amusing to throw her off her game. Going too far might alert her to the fact that he wasn't actually Adrien, though, and she might tattle, so that added another level of complexity, another thing to think about.

He was so busy trying to figure out how strong he would want to come off that he completely missed Lila snaking up behind him until thin arms slid around him in an entirely unexpected (and unwelcome) hug.

"Adrien! I'm so happy that we get to work together again!" Lila cooed, leaning forward to try to press a kiss to Felix's cheek. She missed when he dodged, just enough to get out of her path but not so far that it would look obvious. Lila pouted, but didn't make more of a fuss. "Aren't you?"

"Mmhmm," Felix murmured noncommittally, disengaging himself from Lila's groping hold smoothly to step away and move into the next pose that Simon had wanted. Lila was forced to back off for the remainder of Felix's solo shots, and then he could escape into the tent to change while she did a few solo shots of her own.

And then came the duo shots, aka the absolute longest forty-five minutes of Felix's life.

(Well. Okay, maybe there had been some other instances when time had stretched out far longer, but as far as normal everyday situations went- well, then this ranked waaay up there.)

Things had gone smoothly when Felix was on his own. Despite never having done photoshoots before- or at least clothing photoshoots, he had posed for a few family portraits over the year- he had gotten the hang of it right away. He followed Simon's instructions with little need for further correction, and the photographer had been beaming.

With Lila added to the mix, though? All of that was completely shot. She was completely unprofessional, and quite handsy to boot. Felix managed to get away from her hands most of the time, dodging where he could and stepping smoothly away to make it look natural, but it was absolutely aggravating.

Thankfully, he got a bit of a reprieve when he loudly complained that she had wrinkled the sleeve of the light coat that he was modeling with her vice grip on his arm and she got scolded.

Unfortunately, that reprieve only lasted for five minutes before she was right back at it. She didn't hold on nearly as tight as before when he had longer sleeves on, sure, but other than that there was no real change. If anything, she was brushing her hands over his shoulders and arms more often than before.

Needless to say, by the time the last picture of the last set of clothes had been snapped, Felix was more than eager to be done, change back to his- well, Adrien's- normal clothes, and be rid of the Italian pest for good.

But Lila clearly had other ideas.

"Oh, I think we could pose for a few more minutes, don't you, Adrien?" Lila purred, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Felix could see where her fake eyelashes were starting to come detached. Clearly she had no idea how to apply them correctly, considering that they had been crooked to start with. "Maybe some, ah, closer poses? Oh! I know! Summer romance always sells, right?"

Felix raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Slick, she was not. Her attempts at manipulation couldn't be any more heavy-handed. Or more distasteful. "I'll pass on that, thanks."

Lila's pout grew. "You don't want to? I think it would be fun! I thought that we were friends." The last word was bitten out with a bit of an edge to it, an unspoken threat. Felix had no idea what it was meant to be.

Forget his cousin coaching him about modeling, clearly Felix had needed more insider info on how to interact with Adrien's friends and classmates.

"It is far too hot outside to be close to anyone," Felix countered tartly, refusing to let himself pause in the conversation. "We have a number of photos already. I see no need to risk heat stroke for more. Additionally, this is a clothes company, not a manufacturer of cheap romance novels, and there was nothing about summer romance in the shoot briefings."

Lila's eyes narrowed. Felix refused to back down.

"Adrien is right," Simon said, glancing over his notes. "And if the shoot goes much longer, we'll go into overtime, and Mr. Agreste hates that. It costs the company money, you know. So we're done for the day. Thank you for your work."

Felix murmured a quick thank-you in return. Lila looked as though she had maybe swallowed a lemon. Before she could recover and come up with a new ploy, Felix turned and strode off to the changing tent to switch back into Adrien's normal outfit as fast as he could.

He made sure to keep a suspicious eye out for any unusual ripples in the fabric of the tent. Felix didn't trust Lila to not try to sneak a peek of him changing. She seemed to have a complete lack of respect for normal boundaries and more than a slight fixation on him (or, rather, his cousin), so Felix wouldn't put it past her to try to look or even snap a picture.

A picture would probably be the more appealing option to Lila, if he was reading her right. Properly hidden so that no one else would discover that she had it, it would make valuable blackmail to get Adrien to play along with her little games.

One final change later, Felix exited the tent to see Lila talking with Nathalie. From the look of it, she had been the one to approach Nathalie rather than the other way around- after all, Nathalie had been standing in the same spot for most of the shoot- and she seemed to be trying to persuade Nathalie of something. And- odder yet- Nathalie actually seemed to be listening.

Felix frowned at that. Nathalie actually listening to someone who wasn't her boss? That was unusual, not to mention incredibly suspicious- and so was the entire inclusion of Lila in the Gabriel photoshoots, honestly. Why would Nathalie- and by natural extension, Mr. Agreste- want to bother working with someone like Lila? She was hardly a talented model. Even though she had had more experience with photoshoots than Felix had, and it was Felix's first time modeling to boot, she had needed more direction (and redirection) than he had. She rarely did exactly as the photographer asked, particularly with several shots alongside "Adrien". She preferred making her poses more flirty and having her hands on "Adrien" whenever she could, even arguing with the photographer about the poses he wanted. Lila was hardly any great beauty, either, and her atrocious hairstyle wasn't doing her any favors. And she was hardly rich or famous to start with, despite what she reportedly liked claiming.

Surely Mr. Agreste and Nathalie wouldn't fall for her lies. Maybe they weren't the sharpest tools in the shed, but they had enough experience to navigate what his father had always referred to as shark-infested waters of the business world. They should be able to pick up on the lies and manipulation without a problem.

...so why was she here? What was Mr. Agreste getting out of their arrangement? Besides higher bills from photoshoot staff because of Lila holding things up, of course.

Felix didn't like this. Not at all.

Nathalie finally nodded, making a note on her tablet, and then she and Lila parted ways. Felix glanced away at once- he didn't want to appear to be inviting her over, after all, he had already had more than enough of her for the day- but he could see her making a beeline for him regardless. Felix deliberately stepped away, headed for Adrien's bodyguard. He would very much prefer to go back to the house now, but Lila was faster.

Faster, and had very sharp nails.

"Surely you weren't about to run off without saying good-bye?" Lila crooned, her voice so sickly sweet that it nearly made Felix gag. "How rude."

"If you put holes in this shirt with your nails, my father will hear about it," Felix warned her instead of replying with a cutting comment about how hypocritical it was of her to call anyone rude. Lila only scoffed and tightened her hold, ignoring his words just as he had ignored hers.

"I feel like you're forgetting about our arrangement, Adrien." Lila's voice had dropped to a hiss. "Or do you want everyone to turn on Marinette, hmm? Think about it."

She didn't give him a chance to respond before giving his arm another painful squeeze and flouncing away, trailing her fingers across his chest as she went. It was probably just as well that she left, really, because Felix really wasn't sure what to say about that.

What kind of arrangement his cousin had with that wretched girl, Felix didn't know, but he didn't doubt that it was neither a good one nor a smart one. Considering that it apparently involved threats against one of Adrien's friends- the friend Adrien had gushed about the most over the past couple of days, coincidentally- there really was no way that it could be a good arrangement.

He brought it up with his mom that night, bringing up the fact that Adrien had thought to warn him about Lila and her lies, but he hadn't mentioned the harassment- the sexual harassment, really, considering the fact that Lila had tried to kiss him and rub her hands all over his chest- that was clearly normal for her interactions with him. That seemed like a rather important thing to mention, and the fact that he hadn't...

"Adrien's probably been raised not to raise a fuss," his mom said once she was done ranting and raving about shameless harlots and the adults who enabled them. "Or- you mentioned some sort of deal. Adrien might have decided the best way to protect his other friend was by just tolerating this monster, because no one's taught him better."

Felix blinked. He had heard his mom criticize her sister before, but not since her disappearance. It was a bit strange to hear, honestly, no matter how the indirect the criticism was, but he wasn't going to point it out.

"Emilie wouldn't want someone harassing Adrien," Amelie said after a minute of angry muttering under her breath. "I'm sure she would have taught him about exceptions to the whole politeness rule after he started attending school and running into less savory people. And she would want me to step in now." Her fingers started tapping against the table, an angry staccato as she thought. After a couple minutes, she spun to face Felix with an eager clap of her hands.

Felix, who was more than used to this sort of behavior by now and who had resumed eating his dinner while she thought, merely raised an eyebrow and set his fork back down on his plate neatly.

"You said that Adrien has regular photoshoots with this girl, correct?" Amelie asked eagerly. Felix nodded at once, raising an eyebrow at how hopeful his mom sounded.

"Yeah. And he mentioned that the start of his summers always has a higher concentration of photoshoots, to make up for not having them during exams and studying. That's why I offered to go for him today, because he's been kept so busy that he's not been able to see his friends. And because he had scheduled something with his friends, and then Nathalie just knocked it off of his schedule to put the photoshoot there instead and that didn't seem fair."

Amelie muttered something uncomplimentary about that, too, then her determined expression returned. "Well, that works in our favor. Tell Adrien that you'll do his next photoshoot, too- if you're willing to, of course," she added hastily. "And then I want you to tell this girl no. Tell her to back off. Enforce your boundaries- which I know you're good at doing."

Felix hesitated. He could see where his mom was going with her plan and why it would make more sense for him to be the one to confront Lila instead of Adrien, but- well, another Lila-filled photoshoot really wasn't that appealing.

But it sounded like he wouldn't have to deal with Lila's nonsense this time and could cut it off like he normally would, abrupt and sharp. He could see her downfall in person, see her expression go from overconfident to uncertain to crushed.

Maybe it was a bit petty and vindictive of him, but... well, Felix was a bit petty and vindictive, so what.

So he nodded. "I can do that."

Amelie lit up, clearly excited. "If I'm reading this girl right from what you've said, your no will mean next to nothing to her and she'll persist. To press charges and win, we'll probably need audio- and I can set you up with something that can hide under your clothes without showing."

Felix couldn't help the grin that flashed across his face. "Very nice."

"If my schedule allows, I'll be there too," his mom added. "As close by as I can be, so I can step in as needed. If Nathalie thinks that she'll be telling Adrien- you- to simply endure the harassment, she has another think coming."

"I like that," Felix said at once. "I mean, I don't like the idea of having to tolerate any more of Lila's company, but I can do it."

"Fantastic." Amelie leaned forward, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Now, as for the rest of the plan..."

Convincing Adrien to let Felix take over for his next photoshoot was easier said than done, particularly after Felix told him about the brief face-off that he and Lila had had after the photoshoot. Adrien wanted to step in and work to smooth things over before Lila could lash out at Marinette in retribution, but Felix pointed out that Lila wouldn't be able to lash out at Marinette if Felix carried out the photoshoot like his mom wanted him to. She would be completely and thoroughly discredited, and if she turned into an akuma for it- well, so what? Better her than Marinette, surely, or Adrien.

Adrien hadn't considered that, obviously. After another moment's consideration, and the reassurance that it was Amelie's plan and not Felix's, he had given in and sent a screenshot of his photoshoot schedule to Felix so that he could show his mom and they could plan. Thankfully the next photoshoot wasn't too far out, so Adrien might not have to deal with keeping Lila happy in the meantime so that she wouldn't try to smear Marinette's reputation.

(Apparently Marinette was the only one of Adrien's friends who had been told about Felix's stepping in for a photoshoot thus far, and the only one told about Felix's plan to knock Lila back. He hadn't seen her again in person, but from what Adrien told him, Marinette had already forgiven Felix for the fiasco he had caused during his previous time in Paris.)

(Marinette was also the person that Adrien was going to be spending his time with while Felix was doing the photoshoot. Apparently most of his other friends were going to be busy, but Marinette wasn't, and she had been plenty happy to spend some time with Adrien.

Adrien had been pleasantly surprised by that, since he had been sure that she would be busy, too, but Felix hadn't been. After all, Marinette was in love with Adrien, wasn't she? Of course she would make time to spend with Adrien, that shouldn't have been a surprise.

Or had she not confessed to Adrien again in the months since Felix was last in Paris? He would have thought that she would have.)

"Remember to turn the recorder on," Amelie reminded him as they pulled up near the school, where Adrien was finishing up with a fencing lesson. He and Adrien were hoping to make the swap earlier than they had the previous time, since the photoshoot was pretty much right after Adrien's fencing lesson got out and it would be hard for them to swap without risking someone noticing. "And be very clear vocally about your objections, so that the recorder will pick them all up."

"Will we be able to use the recordings, do you think?" Felix asked, a thought occurring to him last-minute. "Or is it against the law here? I think it's fine back at home, but…"

"I'll deal with it if there's any legal issues," Amelie assured him. "I have connections, and I'm not afraid to use them."

That didn't quite answer Felix's question, but he supposed that it was as good of an answer as any. With one last check to make sure that he looked like Adrien and had everything he needed, Felix hopped out of the car and slipped into the school, making his way to the locker rooms. The fencers were finishing up their last matches, so it was easy enough for Felix to head to the bathrooms and text Adrien to make sure that he would know to come into the bathrooms, too. They wouldn't see each other face-to-face before the photoshoot- after all, Adrien's teammates might question how he had somehow doubled himself if they ran into the two of them in the bathroom- but it would make the trade much easier.

It wasn't long at all before Felix heard someone else enter the bathroom. He straightened in his stall, listening closely and keeping an eye on his phone. That could be Adrien, but it could just as easily be one of his teammates.

Luck was on his side. His phone buzzed, and a message lit up the screen.

Adrien: In the bathroom. Left my fencing bag on the chair near the door- you can take it so that the Gorilla doesn't wonder where I left it.

Felix nodded and shot back a quick message.

Right. See you later.

After another pause, Felix stepped out of his stall, heading for the sinks and washing his hands before claiming the fencing bag that was sitting on the somewhat out-of-place chair near the door. One glance- or rather, one whiff- inside assured him that it was Adrien's bag, and so Felix slung it over his shoulder before heading out into the locker rooms. A few good-byes to Adrien's teammates later and Felix was in Adrien's car, being whisked efficiently away by his bodyguard to the photoshoot.

Trade-off: smooth as butter.

Now that he had been to a photoshoot once, there was far less hesitation in Felix's step as he headed into the small tent to change, then out to hair and make-up for a touch-up. He had to wonder why Mr. Agreste would schedule a photoshoot for right after fencing in the first place as the stylists teased his hair to perfection. Surely the real Adrien's hair would be sweaty and messy after fencing and it would have made more sense for him to have some time for a shower first?

Maybe this was a one-off thing, just happening because they were trying to catch up on photoshoots after exams and they also had to work around Lila's schedule. If she even had one, that was. Something made Felix guess that Lila simply spent a lot of time holed up in her room, scheming and plotting. Maybe she pretended that she had a packed schedule in front of her friends, but in reality...

Well, one had to be really uninteresting to go to the same amount of effort that Lila was to get attention, and that generally suggested a lack of real activities to do.

Just like the previous time, the photoshoot started with individual shots. Felix went through the motions, posing and adjusting his expression as requested. It all went very smoothly...

...and then Lila showed up.

While Lila did her first individual shoot and Felix changed into his next outfit, he pulled the recorder that his mom had given him out. It was small and discreet, easy enough to hide until his shirt or in a pocket without creating any lumps. He got it set up to start recording, then headed outside, resigned to at least a few minutes of dealing with Lila and her grabby hands.

And as expected, Lila started clinging to him the second that Felix got back outside.

"Positions, please!" Simon called. "I want you back to back, but not quite touching, just next to each other-"

"Don't you think that we should be closer, though?" Lila asked immediately, wrapping her hands around Felix's bicep. "We could play a couple!"

"Not for these outfits," Simon told her. "Backs to each other, please-"

"Oh, but I think-"

"I think my sleeve is getting wrinkled," Felix commented, trying to step away from Lila. "And if you don't let go, you're going to bruise my arm."

Lila scowled and finally released him. Felix readjusted his shirt- there were no wrinkles, of course, the lovely light fabric that the shirt was made out of wasn't the type to get creased up by a minute's clinging- and then slid easily into position.

"Good, Adrien, perfect!" Simon called. "Lila- no, not like that, I want your arms crossed- if you stand like that, it looks like you're trying to cop a feel, and no one wants that."

...Felix wasn't even surprised.

The next few shots went the same way. Lila was clingy, but not as incredibly forward as she had been at the end of the previous shoot. Maybe getting her off required several reprimands and comments about how she was messing up his outfit, but she did get off. Eventually.

And then they changed outfits again, and Simon consulted his shot sheet. His eyebrows raised, and then he glanced between Felix and Lila. "The top suggested theme for these outfits is, ah, summer romance."

Felix blinked. That... was not what he was expecting. It sounded like something that Lila would have suggested, not something that Adrien's stick-in-the-mud father or his secretary would come up with.

And then it hit him like a brick. He would bet anything that this was what Lila had been talking to Nathalie about at the previous photoshoot. She had been the one pushing and pushing for a 'Summer Romance" theme for an excuse to get close to him in the previous shoot, and now she had gotten it.

"Oh, that's lovely, isn't it, Adrien?" Lila trilled. She attached herself to his arm, plastering herself against his side. "There's so much to work with there! Hugs, kisses- we'll be so cute together!"

"I'm not comfortable with that," Felix said at once, looking to Simon. "You said that was a suggested theme. Would it be possible to go with another theme?"

Simon nodded, referencing his sheet. "Yes, of course. One of the other suggestions was-"

"Oh, I think we should at least try it!" Lila insisted. Her grip got tighter, and her nails dug in. "Here, let's just start now and not overthink it!"

With that, she bounced up on her toes and tried to press a kiss to Felix's cheek, aiming for close to his mouth. Felix leaned back as fast as he could, dodging her completely in one quick movement.

Maybe he had complained about taking gymnastics as a child, but sometimes it really did come in handy. Perhaps he should consider picking it back up again.

"I'm not comfortable with that," Felix told her clearly, ignoring Lila's scowl and the way her nails dug in even deeper. "And since I said no, we're not doing it."

"Well, I want to!" Lila insisted. "Come on, Adrien! We're friends, aren't we?"

There was that edge again. This time, Felix knew what it meant: by the time the photoshoot ended, she was probably going to start her attacks on Marinette's character. It was an attempt to bring Adrien back under her control.

Too bad she was dealing with Felix, not Adrien.

"That doesn't mean that I'm comfortable doing romantic shots," Felix said firmly. "Particularly if you're going to try to spring unwanted kisses on me. Now kindly let go of my arm. Your nails are digging in."

A scowl flashed across Lila's face before she pasted on her happy face again. "How can you know that you aren't comfortable with it until you've tried it? At least a few shots-"

"Remove your fingers from my arm or I will remove them for you."

Lila's grip only got tighter. "Stop complaining, I'm hardly-"

Felix didn't let her finish. Before she could break any more skin, he grabbed two of her fingers and bent them back sharply. They gave with a (satisfying, Felix had to admit) crack, and Lila snatched her hands back with a cry.

"My fingers!"

"I told you to let go," Felix told her tartly, stepping away and rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal the dents and cuts from Lila's nails. "Simon, would you mind snapping a picture of this? I have a photo from when she did this during the last photoshoot, but this is far worse."

Simon nodded at once, getting in close and snapping photos from all angles. Across the way, Nathalie finally noticed the commotion and hustled over, glancing between Felix and the sobbing Lila.

For once, Felix was willing to bet that the tears weren't fake.

"He broke my fingers!" Lila sobbed, clutching her hand close to her chest. "Adrien, I can't believe that you would be so mean-"

"Nathalie, I think you should look at this," Simon told Nathalie, pulling her over next to Felix. "Adrien has commented numerous times during photoshoots that Lila is holding on to his arm too hard. He asked her to let go several times in a row before he pulled her off, and- well, I can't blame him, she's drawn blood."

Nathalie's lips pressed together in a thin line as she inspected the injury, and then she pulled out her phone. "I'm going to call Lila's mom, and then I'll call Mr. Agreste. I think it's safe to say that Lila will be fired. This is unacceptable."

Felix could barely hide his smile.

Twelve minutes later, Mrs. Rossi rushed into the park, her wide eyes locking onto the still-sobbing Lila almost immediately. She rushed to her daughter's side at once, kneeling down beside her.

"Mio caro, what happened?" Mrs. Rossi asked, reaching for her daughter. "Ms. Sancoeur said that you got your fingers broken!"

"What happened is that Lila learned the consequences of sexual harassment," Felix cut in coolly before Lila could speak up, and Mrs. Rossi's head swung to the side, her eyes wide. "Some of the consequences, at least. I will be pressing charges, and she'll be lucky if I'm the only one."

"Se- sexual harassment?" Mrs. Rossi exclaimed, glancing between him and Lila. "Surely that's an exaggeration, Nathalie, how on earth would Lila do anything that could be considered sexual harassment to her boyfriend during a photoshoot? Surely this was just an overreaction to a lover's spat-"

"I was not aware that your daughter was dating anyone, least of all me," Felix told her, since- well, it was true. After all, Adrien wouldn't touch someone like Lila with a ten-foot pole. "Frankly, considering how often Lila lies, I'm surprised that you believed her at all. No one wants to be dating a liar, particularly a social-climbing liar with no respect for personal space."

Mrs. Rossi reeled back. "A- a liar? No, Lila's a sweet girl!"

"They're just trying to frame me, Mommy!" Lila sniffled, and Felix rolled his eyes. Of course she would pull out the mummy card now. "Adrien just a-attacked me out of nowhere, we were just modeling-"

Felix snorted. He had abandoned his Adrien act for good now, and from the looks he was getting from Nathalie, she had caught on to the switch. He held up his injured arm, deciding to ignore Lila completely. She clearly wasn't going to admit that she was in the wrong, so entertaining her at all was a lost cause. "A 'sweet girl', hmm? She's given both me and my cousin bruises from clinging so hard, and now she's broken my skin. And she's been threatening to destroy the reputation of one of my cousin's classmates, all because she's a petty brat who hasn't been properly contained."

Mrs. Rossi shook her head, her eyes wide as she took in the injuries. "No, that doesn't sound like her at all! Why- why would she want to destroy anyone's reputation, that makes no sense!"

"Because I haven't-"

"Because Marinette called her out on her lies," Felix told Mrs. Rossi tartly, raising his voice over Lila's whine. "The lies about knowing all sorts of famous people personally, because she 'saved their cat' or was personally helping them with songwriting or was running a million charities, or the lies about going on a- what was it, a three-month trip out of Paris during the school year, when she was actually here the entire time?"

Mrs. Rossi slumped on the ground. "No, no, I can't- I can't believe this-"

Lila shuffled closer to her mom, still clutching her hand to her chest as she made another effort to squirm out of the situation. "They're lying, mama, don't listen to them-"

"Well, you had better start believing it!" Amelie snapped, appearing out of the nearby trees and striding up to the group. She waved her phone. "I have pictures of your little hussy of a daughter trying to force a kiss on my son, and we have evidence of her refusing to let go of my son's arm. You should be ashamed, really! I don't know how I would be able to show my face in public if my son acted the same way that your daughter has! Lying and manipulation and sexual harassment and threats for months and months and months on end, and what have you done to stop it? Nothing, by the sounds of it!"

"I didn't know-" Mrs. Rossi started, but Amelie cut her off with a scoff.

"You didn't know? Oh, excuse me for not being very impressed there. I've been busy as anything quite often with my projects and modeling and films and charity and events, but you had better bet that I made the time to check in with Felix's teachers! If I didn't have the time to go in before or after school, I emailed them. I made sure that I met his friends. I knew the instant that he started acting out, and I could talk to him about it. Have you done any of that?"

"No, but-"

"And this whole business with Lila being 'out of the country' for months! How did you miss that she wasn't going to school?" Amelie demanded.

Mrs. Rossi flinched. "I- she said that the school was closed because of akuma attacks-"

"For three months? That's not even a good lie! Do you live under a rock? Sometimes the akuma attacks drag on for a bit, but it's just hours, not- not even days! All you would need to do to disprove her ridiculous lies would be to turn on a TV! Or do a Google search, that only takes seconds!"

"I-" Mrs. Rossi swallowed hard, and her voice got quiet, nearly inaudible. "I was busy at a new job, and I- I thought that I could trust her."

"Clearly not!"

"In any case, Lila is fired as a Gabriel model, and we will be plenty transparent with the media as to why should they ask," Nathalie told Mrs. Rossi, consulting her tablet. "Adrien has confirmed that he's been grabbed at just like Felix, and that is unacceptable. Mr. Agreste expects that his son be able to work without being sexually harassed by other models."

Mrs. Rossi only nodded, all of the fight drained out of her. Lila whipped her head back and forth between her mom and the rest of the group, panic starting to spread across her features.

"Mama, you don't believe them, do you-"

"Quiet, Lila," Mrs. Rossi snapped. "I've heard enough. I've seen the evidence. I know that you're lying now."

Lila's face screwed up, and then she suddenly lunged to her feet, right at Felix. "How dare you! I had everything going my way, and you've screwed it up! When- when I get akumatized, you'll regret this, Adrien!"

Felix stepped neatly out of the way, extending one foot just enough to send Lila sprawling back to the ground with a wail of pain but not enough that it would be obvious that it was completely on purpose. "Boo-hoo, cry me a river. Also still not Adrien. Try his stunt double instead."

Lila only sobbed on the ground, clutching at her fingers. Her mom hauled her up, looking completely ashamed as she hustled her daughter away.

"Well, I think that's the end of this photoshoot," Nathalie said as soon as the duo was out of sight. She sighed, massaging her forehead in clear exasperation. "Felix, can I ask that next time, Adrien actually shows up like he's supposed to?"

Felix raised an eyebrow at her. "Why? It's not like anyone will be able to tell the difference."

"Gabriel would be most unhappy-"

"Gabriel is unhappy about most things most of the time, so I don't see how it makes any difference," Amelie told her tartly. She looped her arm through Felix's. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I think that Felix and I have a lawsuit to go file. Good-bye."

As it turned out, Gabriel didn't even have to tell the press why its newest model had been abruptly dropped. An Adrien fan had been hidden nearby and watching the shoot, and had taken video of the entire Lila downfall. It had been uploaded at once, and spread across the internet by other fans.

Fortunately, it meant that- at least in Paris- no one would ever believe Lila Rossi again. The outrage over everything that she had done- and especially the attempt at a forced kiss and the clinging to Felix hard enough to break his skin- was enough that Felix was pretty sure that no one would even try to be her friend out of pity. There was no way that any of Adrien's classmates would miss the news, either, which was really what they were most interested in.

Unfortunately, Adrien's fans were over the moon at the idea of an Adrien stunt double, because it meant that there were two of them.

...and unfortunately for some particularly avid and over-eager fans, Amelie Graham de Vanily was none too thrilled about her son and her nephew getting chased around Paris and was still riding high on the success of her lawsuit against Lila. One dinner with the Bourgeois family later and it was officially against the law in Paris to chase after teen celebrities and to form what amounted to search mobs, and there was going to be further investigation and adjustment as needed to prevent other future harassment. Also- and on a completely unrelated topic- Audrey Bourgeois would be in charge of the wardrobe department on the next Graham Films production.

And as for Felix... well, all of a sudden, Adrien's friends all became a lot more receptive to the idea of inviting him to their get-togethers. Some were still a little wary of him, but that didn't bother Felix at all. After all, Felix was used to people regarding him with some trepidation at home, and he was hardly going to make himself comfortable by acting all warm and cuddly. But several of Adrien's friends were fine with that, or perhaps they just were accepting because they knew that it would make Adrien happy.

Felix didn't suppose that it really mattered either way. He wasn't trying to form lifelong friendships in Paris, just trying to enjoy his summer as well as he could. And with Lila firmly out of the picture- she had been shipped back to Italy to attend boarding school, mostly to keep her away from akumas- and with outwardly friendly company...

Well, the summer was looking bright.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #adrien agreste #felix graham de vanily #the gremlin child returns

367 notes · View notes

christinesficrecs · 4 years

Note

Hiii Christine I’m finally sending in my question again, based on this post beacon911(.)tumblr(.)com /post /611564394952916992 /princehairhoechlin-derekandstilesdotcom do you have any post-S4 fic recs? (Sterek keep in touch, Derek comes back, Stiles meets up with him after graduation, etc etc) ily and appreciate all your hard work!! You’re a rockstar! 💕💕💕

Maddie really meant to say that I procrastinate like a rockstar! 🤦🏻‍♀️

Not Quite Lost (Not Quite Found) by alocalband | 25K | Explicit

A year after the nogitsune is defeated, Derek is living a quiet life in the mountains above a small town in Colorado.

Then Stiles shows up.

Gracious In Defeat by yodasyoyo | 18.1K | Mature

Stiles needs to get away from Beacon Hills after the end of his senior year. Derek offers to let him stay with him in São Paulo, and they finally act on the tension that has always simmered between them.

The thing is, when it's time to go home- Stiles doesn't want to leave.

Pretty Melody by thepsychicclam | 30.5K | Explicit

Stiles hasn't seen Derek in six years, so when he shows up at the bar where Stiles works, claiming to be some indie rock star, Stiles can't believe it. Stiles has even more trouble believing that he and Derek are about to have a one night stand.

Soon one night turns into two and three, and seeing Derek causes old wounds to open for Stiles. As Stiles reconnects with Derek, he finds himself painting things he's been avoiding, and he thinks maybe he'll finally start to heal.

That's New by alisvolatpropiis | 2.4K | Mature

Stiles missed out on seeing Derek's transformation, so a few days after Mexico, he goes to see for himself.

The Only Thing by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 4.2K

Derek had said, “You can come if you want. Live here. With me. You can come, Stiles.”

Saying no had been the hardest thing Stiles had ever done. Because he wanted out. He wanted out so bad, and to have an offer, to have the guy he’d not-so-secretly been crushing on for years be the one to give it to him, had been almost more than he could handle. His fingers had typed out the ‘yes’ and he’d sat there for close to an hour, just staring. Because he wanted it so badly. To run, to escape, to leave all this behind him.

But he eventually erased the word and wrote, “Thanks Derek. Maybe some time, but not now.”

And that had been that. Derek never brought it up again.

And neither did Stiles.

A sudden simple twist of fate by heydoeydoey | 14.5K

Stiles still has Derek's number saved in his phone, and he tells himself he's going to delete it, but he doesn't. Instead, he sends Derek a text. Okay, four texts.

Smoke is Just the Air Remembering Fire by alisvolatpropiis | 8.4K | Explicit

Derek has cried three times in his adult life: when his sister died, when the alpha pack used him to kill Boyd, and when Stiles Stilinski broke his heart.

In My Veins by thepsychicclam | 7.4K

Derek drove away from Beacon Hills once before.

Sense of Home by siny | 53K | Explicit

Home can be a place, but it can also be a person.

After the events with the Nemeton, Stiles starts suffering the consequences of their sacrifice. A journey he attempts to make on his own, but only becomes worse with every step he takes. In the process he seeks comfort in an unexpected place and it draws him toward an unexpected person.

Good Intentions by yodasyoyo | 6.4K

In which Stiles thought he fake wolf-married Derek twenty-six years previously. Turns out it wasn't as fake as he thought.

lodestone by llassah | 5.4K

We could…we could be something, couldn’t we?” Stiles murmurs, eyes slipping shut. Derek looks at the IV line in his arm, the bandages covering his chest, his leg. His hand, pale against the hospital sheets, palm up. Derek waits until he’s sure Stiles is asleep before he responds.

It takes Stiles eight years to ask the question again. It's okay. Derek can wait.

The Start of Our Forever by Cobrilee | 20.5K | Explicit

Stiles is ready to get out of Beacon Hills and start his new life, free of the supernatural. A random discovery in an antique store in Denver proves you can never leave it all behind... and encourages him to find it again. What ensues is four and a half years of pining, self-discovery, personal growth, a whole hell of a lot of love, and a realization that nightmares can still become fairy tales (happily-ever-afters included).

How We Got Here by Areiton | 9.7K | Explicit

Against all odds and expectations, Stiles and Derek have become respectable adults ( WHY?) and friends.

#asks #sterek #ficrecs #future fic #post S3 #post S4 #how stiles and derek got together #pan-buck

162 notes · View notes

buckleysjareau · 4 years

Text

when i’m walking in my sleep

anonymous asked:

Hii, i love your writing, just finished your new buddie fic. Loved it! If you have inspiration for a storyline like the following i would be so happy to read: Eddie taking care of Buck after the screw removing surgery.

I deleted the original post due to it not showing up in the tags, so sorry if you didn’t see it, anon! But here it is again :)

trigger warnings for this: use of painkillers even though taken as prescribed, mention of an unspecified nightmare, and to be safe emetophobia as it’s mentioned

Eddie has always had the innate need to care for the ones he loves and the ones who need it. When he was five, he tried his hardest alongside his sisters to save an injured squirrel that ended up at their doorstep. He’d take care of his parents when either one of them was sick as he grew up. The need to help everyone never simmered, only grew when he joined the Army, boiled over when Christopher was born. Firefighting was the perfect job for Eddie, he got to feed his desire to help those in need and find the camaraderie within his team that he’d been missing since his Army days.

Helping people helps him, so he really can’t stop himself from jumping at the opportunity to take Buck home after he gets his screws out when everyone else’s schedules are too busy. He cares about Buck a lot -- maybe too much and not in the way someone cares about their best friend -- so making sure he’s okay and comfortable after a surgery he knows Buck was scared shitless for, it’s not a big deal for Eddie.

He finds that maybe he’s a little in over his head when Buck greets him with a loopy smile. He’s just a tiny bit in love with Evan Buckley, and having dealt with post-surgery Buck before, Eddie is sure his heart might burst with every zany grin and stage-whispered expression of appreciation.

Buck’s surgeon, who Eddie has met more times than one should have, strolls into the dimly lit recovery room with an amused smile. “Good to see you awake.”

Buck snickers. “You say that every time, Doc. Soon you’re going to have to stop acting surprised that I’m invincible.”

Eddie can’t tell if what Buck just said makes sense, a twenty-four hour shift with very little sleep does things to your common sense, but his doctor seems like he’s heard it before.

His doctor shakes his head, albeit fondly, as if it’s something he expects but can’t believe he’s hearing. “How many times am I going to have to warn you that you’re not invincible before you stop ending up in my OR?” Eddie suspects every time. “Hopefully, there won’t be a next surgery for you Mr. Buckley. The screws are out, everything should be smooth sailing after that, unless you decide to test that invincibility theory.”

Eddie can’t hold back the laugh as Buck’s face displays his disbelief. “I may be stupid, doc, but I’m no idiot.”

His doctor turns to face Eddie as he facepalms. “I wish you all the luck and patience in the world taking care of this one.” He jests.

“You know I’m always gonna need it, Doc.” Eddie grins. “There anything I should watch out for or steer clear of with him?”

“You know, the usual; don’t let him walk without his crutches, make sure he eats before he takes his next dose of pain medicine we’re sending home with him, and keep him off the leg as much as possible. Elevate it, ice it if the pain gets too much, spare some time for your own sanity.”

Buck grumbles. “I’m not that bad, right? Tell him, Eds.”

“My mom taught me to always tell the truth.” Eddie teases but relents when the pout Buck gives goes straight to his heart. “Fine. You’re a joy to be around, Evan Buckley.”

“You heard him, Doc! I’m a joy to be around!”

“Never said you weren’t, Buck, just saying your joy is here more than either of us would like.” He smirks. “Alright, alright, I’m sure Eddie wants to get out of here as much as you do so you’re free to go. Everything looks fine post-surgery and as long as you take correct care, it’ll stay fine. You know to call me if there’s an infection or it takes longer to heal than it should, you know the drill. I will see you in six weeks, Buck. Please not a second sooner?”

Buck sends him a sloppy thumbs up and thanks him, says he can’t promise anything but he’ll try his best and Eddie doesn’t want to think about waiting through another one of his surgeries. He’s fine with the aftercare, but waiting to see if Buck came out of each surgery alive is something similar to hell, he’s sure.

When the doctor leaves, Buck looks Eddie’s way. “Eddddieeeeee, my man, a little help?”

Eddie shakes his head and grabs the bag of Buck’s clothes before going to help Buck sit up on the side of the stretcher he was on.

Buck giggles. “My hospital gown is open in the back so don’t look. My ass isn’t really my best feature.”

Well that’s a straight up lie.

“Aw, Eds, thank you. Your butt’s pretty great too.” Buck grins like the compliment means the world to him. The implied compliment that Eddie definitely did not mean to say aloud.

The only thing that keeps him from hiding himself in embarrassment is that Buck is as high as a kite on his painkillers and most likely won’t remember even leaving the hospital.

He prays the blush doesn’t show on his face as he helps Buck into his basketball shorts. He couldn’t tell you why he gets flustered every time he had to help Buck this way. They were adults, it wasn’t anything domestic, really, just… intimate. He’d help whenever and whatever way Buck needed, because if Eddie Diaz was anything, he wasn’t shy. He was never uncomfortable. Just flustered beyond belief.

Buck falls back onto the stretcher dramatically after he’s got his shorts on, taking Eddie down with him. He’s laughing hysterically as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s body in a side hug.

“Hey, Eddie?” He looks up at him. “You’re strong. Can you carry me to your truck?”

Eddie lets out a surprised laugh. “I don’t think so, buddy. I can ask for a wheelchair?”

Buck snorts. “Being wheeled out is just embarrassing, man,”

“And being carried out isn’t?”

He responds with a whine. “You don’t have to be smart all the time, you know? My bones feel like they’ve been replaced by jelly, you won’t even try?”

Eddie fondly rolls his eyes. “You can lean on me, okay? I don’t have to carry you to not let you fall, Buck, I’ve got you.”

“You’ve got me?”

“Yeah, I’ve got you. Now, up you go.”

By the time Buck is settled in Eddie’s living room, foot elevated under a pillow on the coffee table and more blankets than Buck could ever need by his side, they’re both exhausted. Eddie plops down next to Buck on the couch and doesn’t question it when he leans his head on Eddie’s chest.

Eddie raises an eyebrow when Buck moans. “You alright?”

“I don’t wanna throw up.” He whines. “Make it go away.”

“You’re nauseous?” Eddie asks, already standing to get the trashcan from his bathroom for him but is stopped by Buck. “I’ll be right back, just gonna get you the trashcan just in case.”

Eddie has always hated pain medicine. He hates not having any sense of control of what he’s saying if he’s going to remember it the next day, he hates the nausea that comes with, and he hates that every time, without fail, it makes Buck cry.

His lip is quivering as he looks up at Eddie, and it’s just then that Eddie realizes how actually gone he was for Evan Buckley.

“Don’t leave me.” Eddie probably would have teased him if Buck had been whining but he wasn’t. There was real fear in his voice, like Eddie would leave out the bathroom window or something.

“So you’re not nauseous anymore?” He goes with instead, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. He remembers Buck calling it the dad stance, but if it gets Buck to let go of his shirt so he can grab something to stop him from vomiting on his floor, he’ll use it.

Buck shakes his head, stopping abruptly as he pales.

Eddie snorts. “Don’t lie to me ever again.” He reaches for Buck’s face, cupping his jaw in his hand and rubbing his thumb across his cheek. “Let me at least get you a bowl. You’ll be able to see me better in the kitchen.”

Buck finally lets go of the grip on Eddie’s shirt and turns to watch Eddie walk away. Eddie hates himself for the way he subconsciously walks to maybe impress Buck. Thanks to the painkillers, he knows that Buck thinks his ass is nice, he can feel Buck’s eyes watching the back of him, and Eddie prays that Buck is at least the slightest bit interested in him.

What is he thinking? There’s no way Buck could be interested. They’re best friends, that’s all they are, it doesn’t matter how stupidly and pathetically in love Eddie is.

Buck is half asleep by the time Eddie is back with a bowl that shouldn’t be missed.

The second Eddie sits down next to him and hands Buck the bowl, he holds it to his chest and goddamnit why is this so adorable?

“I doubt you’ll make it through the first minutes of it, let alone an episode, but you down to watch Avatar?”

Buck smiles tiredly, eyes refusing to open. “As long as you’re talking about The Last Airbender and not the creepy movie.”

Eddie chuckles. “You think Avatar is creepy?”

“You don’t?” Buck raises an eyebrow, still not opening his eyes, and gives Eddie a look that says he’s shocked no one else feels the same. “I read somewhere there’s a new one coming out in 2021, like, why?”

Eddie snickers. “I can kind of understand your fear of Child’s Play because it’s supposed to be horror, but c’mon, Avatar? I cried, if I remember correctly.”

Buck gasps. “Child’s Play is horror, thank you very much, and terrifying. End of discussion. Put on The Last Airbender so I can stop thinking about that thing.”

“That thing has a name, Buck. Chucky. He’s your friend ‘til the end.” Eddie teases but opens Netflix on his TV, quickly selecting from his Keep Watching list.

Buck doesn’t say anything after that and Eddie assumes he’s asleep, until Buck mumbles something.

“What was that?”

“Would you stop being my friend if you knew I was in love with you?” Eddie hears him loud and clear this time but he’s stunned at what comes from his best friend, disbelief that he even heard him correctly.

“Come again?”

When Eddie doesn’t get a response, he turns and finds that Buck fell asleep right after he gives him a heart attack.

Fantastic. Fan-fucking-tastic. Though he thinks he heard Buck loud and clear, it can’t be right. He dreamed of Buck reciprocating his feelings many times before, but that’s all Eddie could ever believe it was. Dreams. He hadn’t even known Buck was interested in men, let alone interested in him.

Eddie doesn’t know how long he’s in his head for, but when he notices the sweat glistening on Buck’s forehead, none of it matters. He places the back of his hand on Buck’s forehead, fearing a fever due to an infection or flu, but he doesn’t have a fever.

Then Buck jolts and suddenly Eddie knows what’s going on. It’s not the first time he’s seen Buck in the middle of a nightmare, it’s not his first time dealing with nightmares, either, so he knows what to do.

He distances himself from Buck as far as he can and still is able to shake him. He knows from personal experience to never stay close when waking someone from a nightmare, the black eye he’d accidentally given Buck one night being proof.

“Hey, Buck, you gotta wake up, buddy.” He shakes his shoulder lightly. “It’s just a nightmare, you’re not there.”

When Buck doesn’t wake up after a third try, Eddie tries a different tactic and scoots a little closer, grabbing Buck’s shoulder and shaking heavier than before. “Evan, Evan, wake up!”

Buck jolts awake, Bobby’s name on the tip of his tongue, swallowed by a scream. He can’t catch his breath, Eddie can tell he hasn’t fully grasped that wherever he just was in his nightmare was long gone and that he’s safe so he does everything he can to clear that fog.

He takes Buck’s shaking hand in his own and squeezes. “Hey, Evan, you’re at my place, on my couch, nowhere near any danger. You’re safe, okay?”

He can practically see the fog clear from his mind, taking in his surroundings and squeezes Eddie’s hand in his. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, man, I’m here. Feeling calmer?”

Before Buck can respond, he winces and muffles a scream of pain by biting on his lip. Eddie jumps into action as Buck grabs onto the bottom of his cast tightly, as to squeeze out the agony he was feeling.

Eddie checks the time. “You’re due for your next dose of your painkiller at least.”

But Buck isn’t listening to him. He’s too focused on the pain that Eddie can only now vaguely remember after getting the bullet removed from his shoulder. Before long, Eddie realizes Buck is mumbling something in between choked sobs and muffled screams of agony.

“Evan,” He tries to use his name again in hopes it’ll get him to focus on Eddie and not the pain.

Buck’s face is twisted in pain when he finally looks at Eddie and not for the time, he wishes he could take Buck’s pain away.

“I hate Freddie Costas. I hate him so much.” He sobs freely, still holding his bad leg like it’s a matter of life or death. “Fuck, it hurts.”

Eddie stands. “I’m gonna get your pain pills and an ice pack.”

Buck gulps the pill down with no water and Eddie has to stop himself from finding that oddly one of the most attractive things he’s seen Buck do. He also holds back a cringe, never one for taking pills in any way.

As Eddie unwraps the beginnings of Buck’s cast, Buck starts to calm, his tears slow, his body relaxes against Eddie’s side.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers.

“Don’t be. Trust me when I say I get it.” He looks Buck directly in the eyes. “Never feel sorry about feeling things.”

He doesn’t ask if he wants to talk about it. He knows Buck will talk about it if or when he wanted so it ends up being a useless question.

It’s quiet again after that. The only sounds that could be heard around Eddie’s was their breathing and the air conditioner running. Avatar is paused on the TV and Eddie doesn’t make any move to unpause it.

Then Eddie is in his head again.

If he heard right, why would Buck be into him? He wants more than anything for it to be true, but he couldn’t see how it would be true. But he knows he heard what Buck asked, knows he should be thrilled Buck loves him back, but the doubts eat him up. What if he was just asking in general, not personally? What if he thought he was talking to someone else? Maybe he’s exaggerating his gratefulness for taking care of him and he means it platonically?

It’s killing him not knowing.

Eddie clears his throat. “Hey, uh- earlier you asked- before you fell asleep, do you-”

He’s a stuttering mess, hasn’t stumbled over his words this much since he asked Shannon out in their senior year.

Buck cuts in, putting him out of his misery. “If you’re asking if I remember asking you if you’d still stay my friend if you found out I was in love with you, then yes, I do remember and I’m so sorry.”

Sorry for what? I’m sorry I was just loopy, it was just a question, I’m not actually in love with you?

Buck swallows hard. “Do you hate me?”

Eddie’s eyes widened completely at the question. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because I’m in love with you and continued to be your friend without telling you as such?”

His heart is racing a mile a minute because Evan Buckley loved him back and he’d had no idea the entire time. He shakes his head with a smile and unshed tears burning his eyes. “I would be the biggest hypocrite if I hated you for that.”

It looks as though Buck hadn’t heard right as he shook his head, but he hopes he understands.

“Come again?” Eddie can’t help but snort at how similar Buck and him are sometimes. “Why are you crying? Don’t cry!”

“I’m crying because I love you and I just found out it’s reciprocated, okay? Give me a second here.” He lets out a mix between a laugh and a cry. “Holy shit, you love me!”

Eddie’s mind is reeling. The more the shock wears off, the more joy and excitement he starts to feel.

“You love me!” Buck grins and leans forward, stopping to look Eddie in the eye and ask for permission -- which he eagerly grants -- and soon, what Eddie dreamed of since the Grenade Incident is happening. Their lips touch and Eddie Diaz tries not to be a cliche, but it’s a whole show of fireworks, kissing Buck. More than he could have ever imagined.

It’s an hour later, and they’re laying in Eddie’s bed, bodies pressed up against the other. Eddie hasn’t felt so secure in years, can’t even remember a time when things felt right until then. Lying next to Buck, things feel light for the first time since he doesn’t know how long, and the feeling of security is what lulls Eddie to sleep.

Until Buck starts to sniffle and then Eddie is wide awake again.

“You okay, Buck?”

Buck shakes his head rapidly with a pout. “No, I have to pee.”

He tries to keep in his laughter, he really does, but the shock and amusement outweighs his ability not to laugh at things that aren’t funny to other people.

Buck sniffles once more. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re adorable and I love you.” Eddie’s lips quirk into a soft smile. “Now, c’mon, up you go.”

Buck grumbles. “Love you too.”

When he’s done, Eddie turns back to get his crutches and gets the surprise of a lifetime when Buck reaches out to slap his ass.

“Hey!”

“What? I did tell you you had a nice ass.”

“Oh my God.”

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #soft eddie diaz #911 #buddie fic #my fics

75 notes · View notes

authenticcadence18 · 4 years

Text

Can’t Help Falling in Love Ch. 7

HI GUYS!!!!! Sorry about the wait....it has been a busy two weeks😅

I hope you enjoy this chapter!

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

AO3

(also, the formatting of a part of this chapter works better on AO3...I did the best I could to translate it to Tumblr but...yeah. lol.)

...

Take my whole life too…

...

The tears began falling as soon as Isabella was out of the Flynn-Fletcher house. They blurred her vision as she crossed the street, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. After so many years of visiting Phineas every day, she could’ve walked this route with her eyes closed if she had to.

“Just keep walking, Isabella, just keep walking. ”

She just needed to get home. Home meant safety. Home meant comfort and security.

She used to feel that way about the house she was fleeing now.

Funny how time changed things.

Isabella made it to the porch. She fumbled around in her purse for a bit, trying to find the key by touch alone because she could barely see anything at this point.

“Just have to make it inside, just have to make it inside… .”

She found the key.

“Almost there, almost there.”

Isabella opened the door with shaky hands and quietly shut it behind her.

As the door shifted into place and the lock clicked, the flight-or-fight response that had been fueling her adrenaline for the past few minutes fizzled away, leaving only a weariness that felt uncomfortably familiar and yet heavier than anything she’d ever had to bear before.

When Isabella made it to her room, she grabbed a pillow from her bed, hugged it to her chest, and sat on the floor in a daze. After a few seconds of staring numbly at the ground, her lip quivered, and the dam in her heart finally crumbled as she started to sob.

For the next few minutes, Isabella clung to the pillow like a lifeline, mourning the loss of the easy friendship she’d rekindled with Phineas over the past couple of weeks and wishing more than anything that she could go back to this morning, to the smiles and laughter and way things used to be.

...how could she have tried to kiss him?

How could she have been so reckless? So careless??

“....it just felt so real…..” she whispered, as if to assure herself this mess wasn’t entirely her fault.

(Even though it totally was.)

None of it—the tentative flirting, the soft, adoring looks Phineas had given her, the way her hands had felt entwined with his—had seemed like a daydream. It hadn’t felt like a typical trip to Phineasland, where things were always just slightly off, just slightly too good to be true.

It really HAD seemed real.

And, perhaps parts of it had been real. Maybe they’d actually been holding hands—it wouldn’t have been the first time they did so while singing.

But Isabella couldn’t get Phineas’s reaction to their almost-kiss out of her head.

He’d looked completely, totally, utterly freaked out.

This meant he hadn’t wanted to kiss her.

It also meant she’d likely imagined most—if not all—of the little ways he’d appeared to reciprocate her feelings throughout the day.

...and it meant he almost certainly knew how she felt about him now...and wasn’t particularly thrilled about it.

This was just...the worst.

Isabella had worked so hard to get over Phineas for the sake of their friendship…and ultimately to the detriment of their friendship...for years. And then, within a couple of weeks, she’d dared to open her heart again, to open herself up to freely loving him again without expectations of being loved back, to contemplate the possibility of taking small steps towards a relationship with him when it seemed he might just like her too.

But she’d gone too far without even meaning to. And she’d blown it. Phineas didn’t love her. And now he probably didn’t even want to be her friend.

“Isabella...stop it.”

She was talking to herself now, trying to speak some sense into her brain.

“Phineas is still my friend…” she articulated. “...maybe things are going to be super awkward between us now but...he’s the nicest person ever. He would never stop being my friend…right?”

It was easy to speak these words aloud, to acknowledge that they were logical...but harder to see through the anxiety plaguing her in order to actually believe them.

And it was even harder to imagine her friendship with Phineas ever returning back to normal.

Because the desire. The aching, burning, desperate desire for Phineas to love her...to tell him she loved him so, SO much. The desire she’d vowed to get over years ago, that had been simmering on the backburner ever since she opened her heart back up to Phineas...it was boiling over now. After coming so close to kissing him, to finally revealing her feelings to him (for better or worse)...she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

A part of her wanted to avoid the house across the street for forever and never face Phineas again, sure...but another part yearned to race back across the street and just tell him she was madly in love with him once and for all. Rip the bandaid off, you know?

Things couldn’t get much worse at this point, right? He probably already had a pretty good idea how she felt so she might as well just lay it all out on the table.

Yeah. Tell Phineas she loved him more than anything in the world and completely destroy what little semblance they had left of a friendship after whatever had happened in the recording studio.

…...that was a terrible idea.

But what was Isabella supposed to do now? How was she supposed to sit next to Phineas in class on Monday? And...oh gosh...they had to sing their song together AGAIN. FOR THE ENTIRE CLASS.

hOW was she supposed to get through that???

With a sigh, Isabella grasped for her phone and hesitantly opened up the “Fireside Girl Alum” group chat. She didn’t necessarily feel like roping the girls into this...frankly, she didn’t think they’d be able to understand how she was feeling right now...but she wasn’t sure what else to do. Maybe they could help her come up with some sort of scheme to get out of the performance...it would be like they were kids all over again.

(Deep down, Isabella had no desire to return to the schemes and manipulated situations of her childhood….but what other choice did she have?)

Before she even started to type, though, a new message popped up on her phone.

It was from Ferb.

“Are you okay?”

A small smile appeared on Isabella’s face.

Ferb had never minded listening to her vent about Phineas when they were kids, and she appreciated his willingness to be there for her now. Her fingers hovered over the keypad to admit she was in fact not okay at all...but then she hesitated.

Because whenever Ferb was, Phineas was probably close by.

“is it safe to text you?” she asked.

Ferb’s reply came fast.

“Don’t worry, Phineas can’t see my phone. And I’ll delete these messages once we’re done: this will stay between us. I just want to make sure you’re alright. What happened?”

To an outsider, this exchange might have appeared strange...or even foolish. Was it really smart of Isabella to ramble about Phineas and her feelings for him to his brother? Wasn’t that sort of weird?

But Ferb and Isabella had been friends for a long time, and Isabella trusted him completely. She knew he’d never tell Phineas whatever she had to say...and she supposed he might be able to help her out too.

“I almost kissed Phineas…” she admitted. “I don’t even know how it happened, one minute we were singing and having fun...and the next I realized I was about to kiss him and pulled away because I didn’t want to freak him out. But I think I freaked him out anyway….I hope he’s alright.”

Ferb’s reply appeared a few seconds later.

“So you still love Phineas, right?”

Isabella couldn’t help but chuckle dryly at that.

Did she ever.

“Yeah...I tried to get over him but...it didn’t really work out…lol. I actually sort of thought he might like me back and was going to ask him out when we finished recording our song but...I don’t think that’s going to happen....now I’m afraid I imagined everything and that he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

She added on to that last message after sending it.

“I know that sounds silly, Phineas is the friendliest person ever but...he looked so horrified after I tried to kiss him. I’m just scared I ruined everything.”

It took Ferb a bit longer to reply this time.

“Isabella, I can’t speak for Phineas, but if I know him, I know he’d never want to stop being your friend, no matter what. He cares about all his friends, and I know he must care an awful lot about you because you two are best friends.”

Isabella’s heart swelled at that.

Though she’d told herself something similar only minutes ago, the words rang far truer coming from Ferb than they sounded in her own voice.

“Thanks Ferb. That means a lot coming from you :)”

Another text from Ferb came through after a minute or so.

“Is there someone you can talk to about all this?”

Isabella considered the Fireside Girl group chat...and then sighed.

If she messaged them, they’d probably just send assurances of, “Oh, Isabella, of course Phineas likes you! How could he not?” This might make her feel better for a moment...but not for long.

Their words would not be based in truth...they’d only be telling her what she wanted to hear. And that wasn’t what she needed right now.

“No, not really...I don’t think the Fireside Girls would understand, and my mom is at work. But thanks. Just texting you has made me feel a bit better.”

Ferb didn’t text her back after that. Which was just as well...she supposed he was talking with Phineas. (Or listening to Phineas talk, anyway.)

….she really wished she could ask how he was doing.

But Ferb wouldn’t betray her trust to Phineas, so she couldn’t ask him to betray Phineas’s trust to her.

Imagining Phineas made Isabella’s heart ache all over again.

…..why did love have to hurt so much?

...

Hey. Are you busy?

no I’m free for a bit. what’s up?

Can you call Isabella for me?

I think she needs someone to talk to right now.

sure, but why me? wouldn’t she rather talk to you or Phineas?

wait this has something to do with Phineas doesn’t it

Yup.

oh boy. what happened?

Apparently they almost kissed. And then got freaked out.

I’m with Phineas right now but Isabella is by herself.

And if Phineas is any indication, she’s probably not in good shape.

oh yikes I’ll call her now

anything in particular you want me to say?

Just remind her how much Phineas cares about her.

That’s what I’m trying to do with Phineas right now.

But you can’t tell Isabella he’s in love with her.

They have to do that part on their own.

got if.

I mean got it.

give Phineas a hug for me

Thanks, and I will...he certainly needs it.

Love you

love you too bro :)

someday when they get married we’ll remember this and smile

...I hope you’re right.

...

Isabella startled when her phone started to vibrate...and her eyes widened when she realized who the caller was.

She picked up the phone and accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Isabella!!” the voice on the other end sang back. “It’s been a long time, huh? How are you?”

“Hey, Candace...uh….” Isabella rubbed her neck. “I...I’ve been better, actually…..”

Candace remained silent for a moment.

“...in retrospect, ‘how are you?’ probably wasn’t the best question to ask to kickstart this conversation...Ferb told me a bit about what happened between you and Phineas and asked me to call and check on you. Do you want to talk about it?”

A lump formed in Isabella’s throat, and she blinked away a few tears as a wave of gratitude rushed over her.

If anyone could help her talk through any anxiety concerning her relationship with Phineas, it was Candace. She’d dealt with her own share of self-induced romantic turmoil over the years, and she knew Phineas far better than any of the Fireside Girls did.

Ferb must have known that.

...the two of them were the best.

“Oh no, are you crying?” Candace asked. “Please don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay.”

“I’m fine!” Isabella insisted. “Well, I’m not fine...but...yeah. I want to talk about it. Thank you.”

“Ok good!” Candace replied. “But, first thing’s first, it’s past one o’clock. Have you eaten lunch yet? Because if not, go eat something right now. Even if it’s just a tub of ice cream. It’ll help.”

Isabella smiled and slowly rose from the floor with a sniffle. “Ok, I’m going.”

...

“.....so do you want to talk about it now?”

Phineas shook his head. The last time he’d talked about it, about Isabella and the recording studio, it had only made it feel more real. Maybe if he just didn’t talk about it anymore, his current predicament wouldn’t seem as bad as it actually was.

“...Phineas. Come on.”

No. Phineas didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t even want to think about it.

Not how horrified Isabella had looked when she pulled away from him, not the way she’d practically flown out of the recording studio afterward, not the way he’d dared to hope she might like him too……

…..aaand now he was thinking about it.

Curse the complex workings of the human brain.

Phineas felt the bed shift beneath him as Ferb sat at his side.

“PHINEAS. Look at me. Let’s talk about this.”

Phineas stiffly lifted his head from his hands, wiping a few tears away from his face as he did so.

“WHAT, Ferb??” he exclaimed, an unfamiliar sharpness permeating his tone. “What do you want me to say? I thought Isabella liked me back, I was wrong! I got caught up in the moment and tried to kiss her and she didn’t want to kiss me and ran away!! And now I’ve probably ruined our friendship forever!! Which is just! The worst!! Because we were finally hanging out again and spending time together and I spent all of high school wanting to get that back, and when I finally got it back I MESSED IT UP. And now I’m afraid I’ll never even be able to look at Isabella again, much less sing with her at school this week. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now??”

Ferb offered his brother a small smile and patted him on the shoulder.

“Of course I’m not happy, Phineas. But that IS what I wanted to hear, so thank you. Now I have a better idea of what you’re struggling with, so I can figure out how to help.”

Guilt twisted in Phineas’s chest. Ferb was only trying to be there for him, to support him, and what was he doing? Yelling at him.

Gosh...first Phineas had jeopardized his friendship with Isabella and now he was taking his anger at himself out on Ferb?

What was wrong with him today??

“Ferb, I’m sorry….” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you….none of this is your fault, and I know you’re just trying to help...”

“I forgive you.” Ferb wrapped his arms around him. “And I get it. This stuff is hard.”

Phineas sniffled and let himself be held for a bit.

In moments like this, it was easy to remember that Ferb was a bit older than him and thus technically his big brother.

...Phineas wasn’t sure what he’d do without him.

“....thanks, bro. You’re the best.”

“Anytime…” Ferb replied.

“...this hug is from Candace, by the way…” he added thoughtfully. “She’s very concerned about you.”

Phineas chuckled and smiled softly. “Aww...Candace is the best too. Is that who you were texting a bit ago?”

Ferb twitched. “Yup.”

(Technically that wasn’t a lie.)

He sat back a bit and folded his arms in his lap. “So. You almost kissed Isabella, you’re worried she doesn’t want to be your friend anymore….it sounds to me like you’re dealing with a lot of fears right now. Am I right?”

Phineas considered this. “I mean...yeah, I guess I am. Like you said, I’m afraid Isabella doesn’t want to be my friend anymore, and that she thinks I’m weird, and that I’ll completely lose it the next time I see her, and that things will never be the same between us again, and—!”

“Ok, ok, I’m just going to stop you there,” Ferb interjected.

He was trying to calm Phineas down, not get him worked up again.

“First and foremost, Isabella is still your friend and still WANTS to be your friend. That isn’t speculation, it’s just a fact.”

Phineas raised an eyebrow at him. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

Ferb, of course, couldn’t go into specifics on how he knew he wasn’t just saying this to make Phineas feel better.

“Because Isabella’s my friend too, remember?” he countered. “I’ve known her almost as long as you have. And I know how much she cares about all her friends. That includes you. Especially you. Because you two are best friends, right?”

Phineas couldn’t help but smile fondly at that. “Yeah, we’re best friends…” A hint of sadness entered his eyes. “....at least...I hope we still are.”

“You are,” Ferb assured him. “Those kinds of friendships don’t just disappear after one awkward moment.”

“But...but Ferb…” Phineas shut his eyes and grimaced. “She looked SO freaked out after I almost kissed her….I mean, she has to know I have feelings for her now, right?”

Ferb shrugged, feigning ignorance.

He needed to change the subject. (Or at least divert it.)

“You said before the ‘almost-kiss’ happened, you thought Isabella might like you back,” he voiced. “Why?”

“Well…” Phineas’s gaze softened, and he blushed and smiled gently in spite of himself. “She kept smiling at me today. And holding my hand. And touching my shoulder. And looking at me in a way that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside….”

His smile faded.

“But then she ran away….so I think she was just being friendly.”

Ferb bit his tongue to stifle a groan. “ So close… .” he thought.

...maybe he could nudge Phineas towards the truth. Just a bit.

“You know, Phineas, in the recording studio earlier, did YOU get freaked out?”

“Oh gosh, I definitely did,” Phineas replied with a wince. “It was so awkward….UGH…..”

“So….”

Ferb had to tread verrrrry lightly here.

“If YOU got freaked out because you almost kissed Isabella even though you have feelings for her….maybe…..do you think……..”

He paused, hoping Phineas would fill in the blanks for him.

(Because he knew he was pushing it at this point.)

“What?” Phineas replied.

Ferb couldn’t take much more of this. His brother might have been nearing adulthood now, but he was just as oblivious as he’d been when they were kids.

“Maybe…...JUST MAYBE…..” Ferb proposed. “....she got freaked out for the same reason you got freaked out?”

He couldn’t flat-out give Isabella’s feelings away. But Phineas had already speculated she might like him back at this point, right?

So, really, Ferb was just nudging him back towards a possibility he’d already considered.

Phineas’s eyes widened as Ferb’s words sunk in. “But I only got freaked out because I didn’t want to mess up our friendship by kissing her...so….if SHE got freaked out for that reason….you….you think…..you think she might like me back after all? Are you sure? ...I’m just not sure…”

Ferb was going to scream. He was absolutely going to scream. This was ridiculous. Phineas was ridiculous. Isabella was ridiculous. They were both. Just. Ridiculous.

….which apparently made them ridiculously perfect for each other.

Ferb articulated his response as casually as he could.

“......I mean. Anything’s possible, right? But you’ll never know if you don’t try talking to her again.”

Phineas considered this. And he shuddered.

The thought of talking to Isabella when his most recent memory of her involved her staring at him with horror in her eyes and running away from him was just...a little too daunting.

“I….I just don’t know, Ferb…..” he voiced hesitantly. “What if—"

“No.” Ferb had had enough. “No what if’s. You love Isabella, right?”

“Well, yeah!! Of course I do, but—"

“And you love being her friend?”

“YES I love being her friend, that’s why I’m so scared to talk to her because she might say she doesn’t want to be friends anymore—"

“PHINEAS. WE’VE BEEN OVER THIS. She isn’t going to want to stop being your friend!!! And, besides, you can’t let fear stop you from pursuing what you love. In all the adventures we’ve had, every wild invention, weren’t you ever afraid?”

“Well sure I was, but—"

“But you didn’t let that fear stop you!! You pursued what you wanted anyway!! What makes this different?”

“Ferb, this isn’t an invention that will disappear when Mom gets home or an adventure that will come and go!!!!” Phineas countered. He sighed, eyes cast downward. “....Isabella is more important to me than any of that stuff…like, infinitely more important....”

It took Ferb a while to think of a suitable response to that.

Finally he took a deep breath. “....if Isabella’s that important to you, Phineas, then she’s worth the risk. She’s worth overcoming that fear.

“I know you’re scared to lose her, Phineas...but, if nothing else, she’s your best friend. Don’t you want to spend time with her? To keep being her best friend?”

“.....more than anything…..” Phineas whispered softly.

“Then you HAVE to talk to her,” Ferb replied gently. “Even if you’re worried about what she might say.”

Phineas pondered this. “I….I know you’re right, Ferb….but...I’m still scared.”

He wanted to keep being Isabella’s friend, to laugh with her and hang out with her and maybe hold her hand again because he’d really, REALLY liked getting to hold her hand today.

But he couldn’t do that until he actually spoke to her. And figured out just what had changed between them.

The thought of doing that was terrifying.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Ferb replied. He ruffled Phineas’s hair and smiled. “That just shows how much you care. But you can be brave and fight through the fear anyway.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully and added, “I think Isabella is worth fighting for, don’t you?”

Phineas’s face brightened a bit.

Did the thought of talking to Isabella and walking with her and singing with her still tie his stomach in knots?

Yes. Yes it did.

But, he still wanted to be her friend.

And he still loved her.

...he really loved her.

“....she’s definitely worth fighting for….” Phineas agreed.

Ferb grinned and patted him on the back as he stood from the bed.

“THAT’S the Phineas Flynn I know and love.”

He gave Phineas a hand and helped him to his feet.

“Now come on. It’s past one o’clock, we should eat.”

...

“...so, Isabella...let’s take a step back and go over everything we talked about.”

Isabella closed her eyes and took a deep breath, thinking over the conversation she’d had with Candace over the past hour.

“Phineas and I are best friends, and at the end of the day, that’s what is most important and it won’t change.”

“Good. Keep going.”

“I don’t have to worry about him not liking me anymore because he’s quite literally the human embodiment of a beautiful ray of sunshine who cares about everyone and is just the most wonderful person ever.”

“....alright that’s not QUITE how I worded that point but, sure, sounds great.”

“It’s okay to be anxious, it’s a part of being human, but whenever anxious thoughts get the best of me, I can remind myself of what I know to be true—like, that Phineas and I are best friends—and it will help.”

“And?”

“...AND, if it doesn’t help, I can text you. Or Ferb. Or my mom. Or...or Phineas, if I’m anxious about something that doesn’t concern him.”

“VERY GOOD. When I first started dating Jeremy...and throughout my time dating Jeremy...Stacy was always there to listen to me vent, and it helped me a lot. Never feel like you have to keep all those worries bottled up inside, no matter how silly they may seem. Ferb and I are here for you!! And the Fireside Girls are too, although I understand why you didn’t want to talk to them about this.”

“Thank you so much, Candace….” Isabella said. “I still don’t know how Phineas will react when I see him again, but...I don’t feel as worried about it now.”

“I’m glad,” Candace replied. “And I bet he’ll be happy to see you.”

Isabella blushed in spite of herself...and then frowned. “How can you be sure?” she asked. “You didn’t see his face after I almost kissed him…I told you already, he looked super freaked out.”

“Maybe he was freaked out because he wanted to kiss you but you pulled away,” Candace replied without missing a beat.

And then she flinched. And bit her tongue. Because Ferb had said she was not to reveal Phineas’s feelings for Isabella under any circumstances and she’d just sort of. Accidentally done that.

But Isabella didn’t discern the truth woven into Candace’s words. “Yeah, sure, I suppose anything is possible,” she replied with a chuckle. “I highly doubt he wanted to kiss me, though...but I appreciate the thought.”

Candace let out an inaudible sigh of relief. For once, Isabella’s obliviousness to Phineas’s feelings for her was a blessing and not a curse.

“Well, I think Amanda just woke up from her nap,” she said. “Are you going to be okay if I end the call? What’s your plan for the rest of the day?”

“My mom will be home from work soon,” Isabella replied. “So I’ll probably talk to her about everything as well. And until she gets here, I’ll do some homework.”

“Ok, good!” Candace replied. “Just text me if you need anything. And keep me posted!! And, don’t worry...all this stuff between you and Phineas, it’ll work out.”

Isabella managed a laugh and replied, “I hope you’re right…. Thanks again, Candace. You’re the best.”

“Anytime, sister! Anytime. We should totally hang out the next time I’m in town. Maybe over the summer?”

“I’d love that!! Especially if I get to see Amanda again...she’s getting so BIG!!”

“I know!!! She’s growing so fast….aaand I’d better go, because she’s screaming now. Bye, Isabella!!”

“Bye, Candace!!”

Isabella ended the call with a smile on her face.

It felt good to have someone like Candace looking out for her....almost like a big sister.

She didn’t know what the future held for her and Phineas, and there were still a million doubts and worries swimming about in her head.

But now, at least, she knew how go about overcoming them.

...

The remainder of Saturday ambled by without much fanfare. Isabella and Phineas remained in their own respective houses, completing homework and spending time with their families.

They didn’t speak or see each other at all….but they were certainly in each other’s thoughts.

Sunday went by rather similarly.

Mostly.

It took Phineas nearly half an hour to work up the nerves to send an attachment of the duet to Isabella along with a text reading, “thought you might like to hear this! I think we sound pretty great. :)"

When Isabella received the notification, she had to take a few moments to dance around her room and whisper-scream because PHINEAS WAS TEXTING HER. PHINEAS STILL WANTED TO COMMUNICATE WITH HER. HE’D LISTENED TO THEIR DUET AND THOUGHT IT SOUNDED GOOD.

She listened to the song once. As she did, she tried to focus on the musicality of it as opposed to the memories it resurfaced of dancing with Phineas, of holding his hand...of almost kissing him.

From a purely musical standpoint, it sounded amazing.

She almost laughed when the recording faded out. Ms. Chase would never guess what had happened between her and Phineas once it stopped.

It took her a bit to think of the perfect reply to Phineas’s message. She typed and re-typed it at least a dozen times, battling a surge of anxious butterflies that grew larger and larger with each iteration she wrote….until she finally told herself to just send something and try not to worry about it.

“Thanks, Phineas! I think we sound great too. And thanks for putting the finishing touches on the recording, I appreciate it. :) I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Receiving a text from Isabella was like breaking through the surface of the ocean and taking a breath of fresh air. Phineas lunged for his phone as soon as it buzzed and read her response over and over, maybe a dozen times, his smile growing wider and wider every time. He even showed the message to Ferb, exclaiming, “Ferb!!! She replied to my text!!! She thinks we sounded good!!! And said thanks!! Twice!!!!! She said she’ll see me tomorrow!!!! AND SENT A SMILEY FACE!!!!!!”

Ferb just smiled knowingly “I told you she was still your friend.”

...

Isabella hesitated before opening the door and stepping outside.

She stared across the street and waited, fingers twitching, heart perhaps beating a bit faster than normal. She, Phineas, and (usually) Ferb had fallen into a habit of walking to school together every morning, ever since she and Phineas started working on their project...but was this habit broken now?

“ ...what if he already left? Or what if he’s waiting for me to leave? Because he doesn’t want to walk with me? Or be my friend?”

Isabella shook her head firmly and remembered her conversation with Candace.

“NO. Phineas is my friend. He wouldn’t leave without me, at least not without saying something. And Ferb wouldn’t leave without me either.”

She could wait a bit longer. And if Phineas and Ferb didn’t appear within a minute or so, she could cross the street and knock on their door herself.

...

Phineas lingered behind the door, hesitant to even look out the peephole.

“I thought we’d moved past this,” Ferb quipped as he came to stand at Phineas’s side. “Don’t we always walk to school with Isabella now? She’s probably already outside.”

“No, I’m not looking for Isabella, I’m….uh….trying to build up the courage to open the door…..” Phineas admitted. “I know she said ‘see you tomorrow’ last night but...what if she changed her mind? What if she isn’t out there? What if she’s already at school? Or she’s waiting for us to leave? Because she doesn’t want to walk with me?”

Ferb crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at him, and Phineas rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Right, right...fight the fear...Isabella’s worth fighting for...I know…..”

He steeled his courage and, without even looking out the peephole, swung the door open.

And there she was. Isabella. His best friend. Standing across the street. Looking at him.

...smiling at him.

Phineas’s heart swelled.

He’d been afraid he’d never see Isabella’s smile again.

But there she was. Smiling.

He smiled back.

...

“....he’s smiling at me…..he’s SMILING AT ME! HE STILL WANTS TO BE FRIENDS!! CANDACE AND FERB WERE RIGHT!!!”

...

Isabella and Phineas met on the sidewalk in front of the Flynn-Fletcher house (like they always did). There was definitely a hesitance, a carefulness, in their demeanors...but they were together again.

And that’s what really mattered.

...

“...hi, Phineas! It’s nice to see you.”

“Hey, Isabella! It’s nice to see you too. ...how was the rest of your weekend?”

“It was good! I spent time with my mom, got started on a speech for Debate Club...caught up with an old friend...how was yours?”

“It was fine! I spent time with my family too, gave Perry a bath, got a head start on a history assignment I have due Friday…”

“Cool! How's your head doing?"

“Better! The bruise is fading a little each day.”

“Great! So....are you ready for class today?”

“Sure am! And I already emailed our song to Ms. Chase, just to be safe.”

“Oh, awesome! Thanks!”

“Well...I guess we should start walking, huh?”

“Oh! Yeah, we probably should.”

...

Phineas and Isabella settled into an easy rhythm as they started off in the direction of Danville High. Ferb fell in line beside them and listened as they chatted about their respective projects, about whether or not the history of the Tri-State Area was represented accurately in several songs written about it and about which Space Adventure season was the best.

A warm sense of relief swirled around the trio as they walked, propelling them forward into the day.

Phineas was relieved that Isabella was still comfortable walking and talking with him.

Isabella was relieved that Phineas was still comfortable walking and talking with her.

And Ferb was relieved for them (and relieved that his meddling had proven successful after all).

Isabella and Phineas didn’t dare bring up Saturday morning as they walked. (Deep down, they both knew they’d eventually have to talk about it....but for now, they were just glad to spend time together without things being awkward or unbearable. They could address the elephant in the room later.)

At one point, Isabella caught Ferb’s eye as Phineas stared ahead and gushed about why he thought the fourth season of Space Adventure was criminally underrated. She smiled warmly, glanced at Phineas and then back at him, and mouthed the words “ ...thank you… ”

(Because if it weren’t for Ferb and Candace, she probably wouldn’t be walking at Phineas’s side right now.)

Ferb smiled back and nodded his head….and then gestured first to himself, then to her and Phineas, before shrugging with a cheeky grin, as if to say:

“Turns out I was right, huh? Phineas still wants to be your friend after all. So are you going to ask him out?”

Isabella understood what he was trying to say well enough. She tersely shook her head and blushed before looking away.

Phineas still wanted to be her friend and spend time with her. She couldn’t even begin to consider asking him out right now and messing that up.

(Even if the desire to confess her feelings still tumbled restlessly her chest.)

For now, this? Walking together? Listening to Phineas ramble about Space Adventure with the same passion he used to delegate projects and motivate others? Feeling lighter and lighter with each step she took because just being close to him made her feel happier than anything or anyone else ever could?

It was enough.

In fact, it was more than enough.

It was everything.

...

Thanks so much for reading!!! This chapter was EXTREMELY therapeutic to write. 😅

I truly cannot express how thankful I am for all the support and love this fic has received. It means SO MUCH to me! You guys are just the best!!!!!

I don't have any doodles for this chapter (yet, lol), but I AM working on a Phinabella song/animatic that's unrelated to this story here on Tumblr if you want to check that out! :)

Thanks as always to @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal for being a fabulous beta AND a fabulous human in general! :)

also today is @macaronsforchat‘s birthday!!!!! she’s been supporting this fic from the beginning so I would be remiss if I didn’t give her a shoutout. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEL!!!!!!! ILY!!!

Thanks again for reading, and I'll see you soonish for Chapter 8! :D

#phinabella #phinbella #can't help falling in love #isabella garcia shapiro #phineas flynn #phineas and isabella #isabella and phineas #cadence writes #phineas and ferb #ferb fletcher #candace flynn #phinabella fic #phinbella fic #phineas and ferb fic

38 notes · View notes

nomazee · 4 years

Text

Enigma

tendou satori x reader; side ushijima & reon & reader friendship

word count: 2900+

content: slowburn (as slow as it can get in <3000 words), developing friendships, platonic relationships (this is pretty much,,,not romantic at all???), brief mentions of past bullying/exclusion, mild trust issues, fluff

cross-posted on my ao3

(WOW OKAY so first off,,,not to flex but i’m kind of really proud of this?? i hope it’s as good as i think it is right now--i’m kind of hyped up on caffeine and a lack of sleep so my perception of things might be a little off, to say the least.

i think tendou is an interesting character, and he has a personality that’s sort of,,,,malleable? in a sense? so this is my take on him! but i hope i still kept him accurate to how he’s portrayed in the show.

also !! i’m probably going to be opening up requests soon!! this is still a small blog but once i post my request rules you can feel free to stop by and leave a suggestion in my inbox :)

i really hope you guys enjoy this one!! happy reading!!)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

Making friends was never an easy process for you. You could count on one hand the amount of friendships you’d initiated yourself, and most of those occurred between the ages of five and twelve. After that, it was not smooth sailing and you found yourself sinking deeper into a pit of self-doubt and self-loathing.

Because, you figured that the only reason you couldn’t form connections deeper than surface-level was because you were… well, you. People never made the effort to approach you, so you didn’t put in the effort either. Though at first it was a tough pill to swallow, you’d convinced yourself that was just how life went as one of the unlucky ones.

Maybe you’d be a bit more content if the lucky ones would retain their distance from you.

In a way, they did. The kids with big friend groups--the typical loud, chatty ones that pushed tables together in the cafeteria to fit their whole squad--didn’t really interact with the likes of you. Not that you minded. You only started to mind when they did start to interact with you in a less-than-pleasant manner.

It started with lingering glances that you felt burn into the back of your neck during lunch. That’s what initially drove you out of the main cafeteria and into the bathroom, where you’d neglect eating in exchange for a quiet, botherless place. Then it led to too-tight smiles being sent your way in the hallways, followed by silent laughter shared among their groups. By then you’d caught on, and tried to distance yourself from them. But things never went as planned for unlucky ones like you.

They’d talk to you in class, eyes narrowed, brows raised, and smiles pulled taut against their conventional features as they chatted about their weekend with you as if you were all old friends.

It hurt more than being alone had. After a while, you learned to be alone and not lonely. You liked it, even. Knowing that these people were feigning friendship for their own sick entertainment only served to hold you back in the grand scheme of school-life.

You remembered all the jeering comments from junior high even when entering your first year of high school. You remembered the comments on your hair (“Yeah! That’s such a cute style! You should wear it more often”) that only led to you holding back tears in the girls’ bathroom during lunch and plucking out bobby pins from within your hair, reverting back to whatever style you typically wore. You remembered comments on your photos that you’d even dared to post online (“I liked your outfit that you wore on your trip last weekend. So cute”) that nearly made you delete your account after heavy consideration.

You remembered a lot of things. Maybe too many for your own good. It’s what led to you lacking trust in everyone around you and analyzing things far too deeply to be healthy.

When you entered high school, you expected things to be the same. Though the same group of people weren’t following you to your choice of school (Shiratoriawa, which you studied frantically for in what you were sure was a subconscious effort to distance yourself from whatever schools they would be attending), you figured that people didn’t change. People didn’t mature. It was still school, after all. No age or grade or whatever would change human nature.

Maybe that’s why Tendou Satori had been such an enigma to you in your first year.

You remembered entering homeroom--no daring makeup, no accessories to your uniform, and hair worn as always--and avoiding the gazes of all your classmates. You plopped yourself into whatever spare seats were in the back and waited for the day to start, quiet and mundane and tiring as always.

What you hadn’t been expecting was someone to talk to you--already, on your first day. As if you were such a visible target for those around you that they could immediately sniff out your inferiority among them.

Bright red hair that seemed to defy gravity was the first feature you noticed. His eyes were a similar color, though certainly darker, and his expression was far too similar to those you’d seen in the past for comfort.

“Hiya! I’m Tendou. What’s your name?”

The greeting went in one ear and out the other, though the general gist of it had stuck inside your head well enough to be able to process it. You averted your eyes from his. The best way to deal with someone like him was to respond, and not hope for, ask for, or do anymore than that.

You gave him your name. His smile only widened.

“Nice to meet you. I hope we can be good friends.”

You stayed silent. There wasn’t much point in saying anything. Your nails bit into the skin around your thumbs until it was red and aching.

Weeks passed and Tendou has resigned himself to a strange sort of routine with you. He’d say good morning, ask you about the homework, and make small comments during lecture which you assumed were attempts to get something out of you. Before lunch, he’d ask you if you wanted to sit with him. You’d decline, spend your break in the bathroom, come back to class, and the events from the morning would only repeat themselves with the addition of a polite farewell at dismissal as you two parted to different dormitories.

It was uncomfortable, but you put up with it because--well, what else were you supposed to do?

Tendou was a bit peculiar to you, though. He put up facades of false friendliness just like the old kids from junior high used to do. But whenever you’d catch him in the hallways, he never seemed to walk in groups like they used to. You couldn’t speak for how it was during lunch, considering that you were never really there--but when you occasionally spotted his bright red head of hair bounding through the halls, he was always alone.

You shrugged it off. To be fair, you didn’t see him often outside of class, so the conclusions you’d drawn were bound to be at least a little off.

A couple of months went by. The routine didn’t change, and neither did you and Tendou. You were both the same individuals, and just as always, you weren’t planning on twisting any of fate’s strings.

Tendou seemed to be different, though. He seemed to grow more and more curious of you as time passed. His questions became less vague and more frequent. He started voluntarily walking with you in the hallways whenever lunchtime rolled around. Thankfully, he never questioned it when you parted ways with him and walked in a direction that certainly didn’t lead to a cafeteria.

Until his curiosity peaked, early in the morning before homeroom started.

He greeted you, as always, and let you simmer in comfortable silence for a minute before he decided to prod at you.

“Hey, [Name]. I never see you in the lunchroom. What’s that about?”

You paused. No one ever really asked you about that before. You blinked once, then twice, and cleared your throat.

“I don’t like going there.” You didn’t know where your sudden streak of honesty came from. Even Tendou seemed a bit shocked at your suddenly-informative response, and seemed to make the most of this unusual occurrence.

“So, where do you go instead? Library?”

“No.”

“Then…?”

“Bathroom.”

“...oh…? Why don’t you sit with me at lunch today?”

Oh. The pattern came back. “No, thank you.”

“C’mon! Just this once. I promise. And then you can come back if you want, but you don’t have to.” You retracted your previous statement. Usually Tendou would let you do your own thing after asking once, but this was different. Again.

You took the time to consider his suggestion--again, something that was unfamiliar to you. Maybe just once. Just to analyze more of who he was and who his friends were--if he had any. You’d keep your expectations low, you promised yourself. (But a voice at the back of your head giggled in childish excitement at the prospect of maybe having an actual acquaintance.)

You agreed, and Tendou made an exclamation of victory that you couldn’t help but find a little endearing.

When lunchtime rolled around, Tendou bounded to you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you along to the cafeteria (which you’d never seen before, so you couldn’t help but stare in mild awe at the grandeur of it). He’d asked you if you were buying lunch--you said no, as you never really had an appetite this time of day and he gave a playful frown, flicking you on the forehead and reminding you that you still had to eat and stay healthy.

Since you hadn’t gone on line, he didn’t, either. You voiced your guilt and he shrugged, dragging you a long to a separate stand away from the main line and purchasing a few snacks for you to share.

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you told him. “You really don't have to get me anything, though.”

“Nonsense!” Tendou exclaimed. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn't make sure you were well-fed?”

Though the nature of his words were playful, you found a hint of something in his eyes and tone. Something that, despite your years of analyzing people’s body language and tone and words, you simply could not deduce that easily and put a label on.

You paused. It was so foreign to you, but Tendou seemed almost… genuine.

His smile became more soft rather than teasing, and he took the initiative to take hold of your wrist again and lead you to his table. Whereas you initially expected a large group of loud, coquettish boys you were met with a near-empty circular table occupied by two other boys.

“Miracle Boy! Reon! This is the girl I told you about!” Your steps faltered for a minute--he’d told them about you? Maybe he was less genuine than you thought.

‘Miracle Boy’ seemed like an amusing nickname, though, different from the ones you’d heard before. You couldn’t tell which boy had which name, though, leaving you in the dark as you and Tendou took a seat next to each other.

One boy had dark brown hair while the other had a strange olive color. The former gave you a smile, like the one you’d seen Tendou give you just moments before.

“I’m Reon. This is Ushijima.” He introduced him and his friend, and you found a wobbly, unfamiliar smile playing on your lips. “You’re [Name]? Tendou has told us abit about you.”

You didn’t know how to take that, and your hesitation must’ve shown in your expression as Reon gave you a gentle chuckle and a dismissive wave of his hand.

“All good things. Nothing to worry about.”

With introductions and mild reassurance out of the way, casual conversation proceeded amongst the four of you--well, mainly among the three of them. You didn’t really find yourself inputting anything into the conversation too often, preferring to listen and nibble on the food Tendou had offered you, nodding along to whatever discussion they had.

You realized that the way Tendou interacted with Reon and Ushijima, who you assumed were his close friends, was very similar to the way he interacted with you. It made you separate him from your initial interpretations of his character and hold him in a much better light, though still with a hesitation you simply couldn’t get rid of that easily. Reon was calm and very friendly, asking for your input at certain points in the conversation in what you saw as a genuine attempt to involve you in their group. He was observant, you thought, noticing his eyes glancing your way occasionally and taking in your body language before asking you certain questions and shooting kind smiles your way. Ushijima was quiet and seemed indifferent to your presence--which you appreciated. You’d rather have him indifferent than hateful or jeering, and you didn’t take it personally. He just seemed to have that sort of personality.

By the end of lunch, you found yourself smiling and enjoying yourself. They didn’t seem like the same type of people you knew from junior high. It was a new experience, though not an unwelcome one, and you asked Tendou once you returned to class if you could join him again tomorrow.

“Always, [Name]!” He shot you one of his blinding, playful grins and you couldn’t hold back the upwards drag of your lips.

That day you found yourself reciprocating his farewell at dismissal, giving him a wave, a smile, and a nod before making your way back to the girl’s dorms.

This was good, you thought. Very good.

Another month passed by, and you developed a routine different than the previous. You’d say good morning, and ask how volleyball practice had been the day before (which you learned he attended early on in your newly-formed friendship). You and him would chat during lulls in class, passing notes occasionally if you felt the need to talk while the teacher was still droning on. When lunch came, he’d take gentle hold of your wrist and lead you to his table--or, on certain occasions, to his volleyball practice, where he made sure you were comfortable despite the intimidating-looking coach. At the end of the day, you’d say goodbye, with a promise to talk to him the next morning or after the weekend was over.

It took you a while to get used to. But you certainly weren’t mad at it, and Tendou’s presence made it easier for you to adjust than you once thought it would be. You’d stuck to interacting with him only during school--which, in your defense, was what you thought most people did. The concept of meeting up with classmates off school grounds, actually leaving your dorms during the weekends rather than staying holed up in your room as your roommate went out and had her fun--it was even more alien than any other newly-adapted-to-concept had been for you.

When he suggested exchanging phone numbers, you blinked owlishly at him before processing the fact that maybe that was something you should’ve done a long time ago and obliging to the task. When he asked you to go to the mall with him, Reon, and Ushijima, you repeated the dumbfounded gesture once again, before giving a halfhearted smile and nodding along.

You were nervous, there was no doubt. But you sucked it up, put on a modest, but (somewhat) stylish outfit, and walked to the train station with your three friends. (It was almost amusing for you to see that number placed next to that word and used in a context referring to you--but you giggled in your room thinking about it and couldn’t find the strength to doubt yourself.)

Tendou greeted you outside the girls’ dorms, and you felt nervous as he paused on his typical greeting to look you up and down. In the middle of wishing you’d grabbed an oversized sweater rather than the cropped jean jacket you chose, Tendou gave a bright, comforting smile, and laced his fingers with yours.

“You’re pretty, [Name].”

You couldn’t help but take apart that sentence as the two of you walked to the train station, Tendou’s endearing rambling becoming a consistent buzz at the back of your head. He stated it like it was fact. He was so sure in everything he said, and this time it was no different. There was no stopping the creeping grin appearing on your face, and Tendou seemed to take notice as his hand squeezed the slightest bit tighter around yours.

To put it simply, the trip to the mall was fun. Reon gave you a gentle yet knowing look as you and Tendou approach with hands still interlocked, and you were sure you saw Ushijima crack a smile or two during the duration of your trip. Tendou didn’t leave your side--which you felt the slightest bit guilty about, but he managed to brush that internal guilt away wordlessly with simple smiles and his sheer presence.

Though the four of you barely purchased anything other than food, Tendou made the effort to drag you into a children’s accessory shop while Reon and Ushijima went to order food for all of you. At your confused expression, he leaned down to your height, narrowed his eyes, and analyzed your face before bursting out into giddy giggles.

“I think you should style your hair more often,” he’d told you. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think these clips would look nice.”

You left the store with a large, full bag in hand, filled with colorful, bright accessories that Tendou bought and made you promise to wear at least for the next week. It was a childish bargain, sure, but one you knew had deeper meaning than what was just spoken. There was something more in his eyes that you couldn’t hep but smile fondly at as you both left the store and faced Reon’s and Ushijima’s faintly amused expressions.

Tendou had started off as an enigma to you. He was someone strange--someone you assumed to be the same type you seemed to constantly find yourself tied up in, only to flip that judgement on its head and become the exact opposite.

The thing about enigmas is that they’re not good or bad--they’re just weird. They’re different, they’re confusing, they’re something new. It was the perfect way to describe Tendou, you thought. He took some getting used to. But he certainly wasn’t bad.

77 notes · View notes

bts-ficrecs · 4 years

Text

i had this ask on queue but??? i noticed for some reason my “read more” is....placed within the ask aaand i can’t take it out (like even if i delete everything and start all over again).... i’m so confused lol

so anyway, here’s my reply anon! :) ↴ ↴

this was in reference to my smutty series recs...several months ago...so y’all know the drill. idk how to keep things short. and i always take forever to reply. so here u go <3

there’s a lot of smut out there...so i’ve restricted this to only pwps. maybe i’ll do a comp for smutty fics with plot in the future.

also i’m kind of vanilla LOL so none of these should be too wild 😂 sorry if you were looking for a wild anal fisting blood play orgy adjfeajl

KEY: (*) = haven’t read yet but i’ll rec anyway cause i can

NAMJOON

.•° As The Cauldron Bubbles by @winetae

°•. Summary: What makes for a potent potion? Step one. In one room, gather two people who seemingly dislike each other. Step two. Stir in a pinch of snark and four ladles of sexual tension. Step three. Wait until everything simmers to a boil.

.•° Attitude by @fightmejeonkook

°•. Summary: Namjoon is your best friend and a quick dare quickly changes everything between you two, a kiss leading from one thing to another as pent up tension surfaces.

.•° Bitten & Knotted by @jamaisjoons (*)

°•. Summary: As different as night and day, your two lovers have many differences, after all, one is a vampire and the other is a werewolf. They have their similarities too, namely their supernaturally long life. Something you don’t share. Something they’re going to rectify tonight.

.•° Chemi-beat by @hoseokiehopie

°•. Summary: Your fun plan to seduce your boyfriend in his studio backfires when it’s broadcasted on VLIVE for the entire ARMY to see.

.•° Choke by @writingseoul

°•. Summary: You help him to relax.

.•° Feeling Good by @ethertae (*)

°•. Summary: A wonderful threesome with Kim Namjoon, and Kim Seokjin.

.•° Forbidden by @junghelioseok

°•. Summary: A dance with the devil under the pale moon.

.•° Hunger's Only Friend by @bangtanbullies

°•. Summary: Namjoon has a philosophy that while some women are prettiest with their masks of cosmetic, a slut is at her most beautiful when she is freshly fucked.

.•° His Roomate by @joondaily

°•. Summary: When your boyfriend suggested the two of you spice up your sex life, you never expected that to include time alone with his roommate. (feat. Jungkook)

.•° Peaches and Cream by @jinpire

°•. Summary: “Baby,” he says, the sheer arousal in his eyes melting most of your resistance. He shoves the laptop back onto the coffee table before grabbing your hands, his thumbs running over your knuckles. “Y/N. Give me ten minutes between your gorgeous thighs, and you’ll never want to miss out again. I swear.”

.•° Please, Santa by @floralseokjin

°•. Summary: It’s Christmas Eve and you and Namjoon are about to partake in some peculiar roleplay…

.•° Through The Phone by @imaginethisbts

°•. Summary: The sexual frustration is real when Namjoon goes on a month long business trip, halfway across the world. So when the chips are down and the tides get rough, and you can’t actually get to one another… what do you do? You go to the next best thing of course - phone sex.

.•° Under The Mistletoe by @11-ish

°•. Summary: In which you’ve met your high school lover, Namjoon in the eve of Christmas.

SEOKJIN

.•° A Saint In Her Halo by @winetae

°•. Summary: Beneath his immaculate appearance and flowery words, no one would expect such filth to spew from his lips or; Kim Seokjin is simultaneously the best and worst kind of distraction.

°•. m/n: ok, so this isn’t smut per say. Moreso sexually suggestive. But it’s good ok. So good.

.•° Charm Me by @jungblue

°•. Summary: You have a test in charms tomorrow, and you know that you’re completely screwed, but luckily your boyfriend Jin, who is an expert in the subject, offers to help—however you quickly learn that he might actually be a bit too good at them.

.•° Daydream by @dom-joonie

°•. Summary: Your literature professor has a bit of a…gift. A gift that let’s him see other peoples thoughts when he wants to. And despite the fact that he warns his class openly about this gift, one day you forget, and find yourself in a bit of pickle when Kim Seokjin reads your mind, and finds you imagining some not so school appropriate scenarios…involving him.

.•° Dr. Kim by @btsfiles

°•. Summary: He’s the hospital’s best surgeon, and you’re more than just an admirer.

.•° Green Room by @hoseokiehopie

°•. Summary: You blow your boyfriend in the green room after a concert when neither of you can hold yourselves back.

.•° Hazy by @yoonia (*)

°•. Summary: “You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into.”

.•° In the Mood by @kinktae (*)

°•. Summary: With the second world war finally over, soldiers are coming back home to their families, and famous Hollywood actor Seokjin is no different. Eager to get to babymaking with his wife but plagued by the need to re-establish himself in the film industry, Seokjin is to forced to engage in a more unconventional conception method.

.•° Pink by @tayegi

°•. Summary: “Stop undressing me with your eyes! Use your teeth.”

.•° Sehnsucht by @johobi

°•. Summary: An embarrassing run-in with your new boss is only the start of your destructive infatuation.

.•° Self-Indulgent Fantasy by @bxebxee

°•. Summary: You try your best to wrinkle Seokjin’s vest, but he’s not having it.

.•° Urs by @floralseokjin

°•. Summary: Seokjin’s been dreaming of this moment for so long…

.•° Washing Machine by @btssmutgalore

°•. Summary: Jin shows you another way to use the old washing machine.

YOONGI

.•° 1:32 AM by @mikronysus

°•. Summary: Your eyes narrowed into slits as you glared at the scene unfolding in front of you, your fingers grasping the straw of your drink as you silently seethed to yourself. You watched as the girl laughed at whatever it was your boyfriend had said, her fingers grazing his arm as she looked up at him with eyes that were clouded over in a drunken haze. Sneering at the sight, you clenched your jaw as you watched her move closer towards him.

.•° 7:30 AM by @prolixitae

°•. Summary: It isn’t often that you get to wake tangled in each other.

.•° A Lesson by @btsxyou (feat. Jungkook)

°•. Summary: Maybe it was the thought, in the back of your mind, the thought that had swirled around inside, about how Yoongi could take you from the equal you were when you were with Jungkook, and turn you into a puppet. How he knew what he was doing.

.•° A Brush of Silk by @jinpire

°•. Summary: His lips curl around your neck, whispering, “I want slow today. You good with that, baby?” “You say that like you ever want anything else, old man,” you quip back, your voice a tad breathless.

.•° Between Chocolates & Candy Canes by @yoonia

°•. Summary: This day was supposed to be the best day of your life. After a long wait filled with curiosity, excitements and a bundle of nerves, you are finally here, walking between the other members in the tour group invited to visit the magnificent and renowned Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. (feat. Jimin)

.•° Boyfriend Jeans by @bangtanboysboo

°•. Summary: Yoongi is leaving for tour and he needs his jeans.

.•° Buzz by @floralseokjin (complete series)

°•. Summary: In which you’re unsure if you’ve ever received an orgasm and when you finally pluck up the courage to use the vibrator you bought that one day on a whim, Yoongi barges through the door…

.•° Chardonnay by @btsxyou

°•. Summary: You lifted your gaze, turning your head towards him, and giving him a half smile, not too nicely, but that perfect smirk that you know would eat at him the whole night. Because he wanted you, but he couldn’t have you.

.•° Diaphanous by @yoongisbbydoll (*)

°•. Summary: Yoongi has missed you more than anything. Staying away for a long time it too much on him, but he knows it is much harder on you. Therefore, whenever he can, he brings home presents you could never have imagined.

.•° Firsts by @badbhye (*)

°•. Summary: You and Yoongi had been dating for a good six months, and you had told him from the get-go that you wanted to wait until you were ready to have sex. It wasn’t as if your virginity was something you held sacred, you just wanted to do it with someone you were comfortable with and trusted completely. And Yoongi was that.

.•° Ink by @guksthighs

°•. Summary: Yoongi needs to remind you who you belong to.

.•° Jitters by @versigny

°•. Summary: Yoongi read you like an open book, and judging from your blown-pupils and faintly parted lips, he probably definitely knew what you were thinking about.

.•° Long Distance by @miss-noo-na

°•. Summary: Yoongi misses the sound of your voice.

.•° Sticky Honey by @minlattes

°•. Summary: Yoongi’s every day life with you is a gift, you’re his favorite human.

.•° True Love Cafe by @versigny

°•. Summary: Make me fall in love with you.

.•° The Honeytrap by @jamaisjoons

°•. Summary: What can you do when your bees aren’t producing the amount of honey they should be? Ask your neighbour, the honeybee king, for help of course!

HOSEOK

.•° 100-to-1 by @mytaerminology

°•. Summary: “I have an idea” Hoseok said, way too enthusiastically for your liking.

.•° Adjustment by @yminie

°•. Summary: At Kim-Jung Chiropractics, they meet your every need, and today it’s not just your back that needs aligning.

.•° All Toy, No Mercy by @prolixitae (*)

°•. Summary: As an amateur porn couple, you’VE got roles to uphold. Said roles leave hoseok at your mercy when you conjure up a sick little theme for this week’s video. Two words: Orgasm torture.

.•° Barbarian by @httpjeon

°•. Summary: Your husband, Hoseok, comes home from a raid with the need to make you pregnant with his child.

.•° Cold Showers by @chillingtae

°•. Summary: Everyone has bad habits. Yours just happens to be long, hot showers - it’s not like it’s that bad. Long showers were a habit you couldn’t break despite the fact that Hobi told you on the daily not to use all of the hot water…Which brings you to your current situation. You decide that Hobi will just have to get over your habit, and you’ve got the perfect plan thought up of how to do just that…

.•° Gumdrops & Lollipops by @winetae (*)

°•. Summary: A visit to Jung Hoseok’s chocolate factory does not turn out the way you expected it to.

.•° Hatefuck by @njssi (*)

°•. Summary: Perhaps pissing off Hobi during dance practice wasn’t that good of an idea. Or perhaps it was the best idea you’ve had in a while.

.•° Sunlit Affair by @ubemango

°•. Summary: Twenty-five is a good look on Hoseok.

.•° Take Me by @yoonia

°•. Summary: “I don’t want you to stop.”

.•° The Last Day of Summer by @whichwaytowonderlandep

°•. Summary: 365 days in a year. Three months dedicated to a summer vacation and you wasted no time to fuck around with some guy you had met at the hostel you were staying.

.•° To the Beat of My Heart by @jeonggukingdom

°•. Summary: When you walk into the studio that Sunday afternoon, all you expect is a lonely and chill practice session but, a few hours later, your programs are shattered in thousand pieces by the unexpected presence of Jung Hoseok. And nothing could have prepared you for what he had in store for you.

.•° War Game by @yoonia

°•. Summary: “You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into"

JIMIN

.•° A Bite of The Apple by @jinpire

°•. Summary: The thought of Jimin not being able to feed from someone other than you is troubling in more than one sense– there will be times, like the past week, when you physically can’t be there for him, and what would happen in an emergency, if he somehow got hurt and needed a transfusion, if his body rejected the blood of someone else. And that’s not even considering the long term implications of that….

.•° A Matter of Pride by @jincherie

°•. Summary: You make some comments that wound Jimin’s pride and threaten his standing as Best Lover of the group so he sets out to prove you wrong the only way he knows how.

.•° Barefoot And by @dovechim

°•. Summary: I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk and I have to feel your cum drain out of me until I remember how to move.

.•° Birthday Boy by @polaritae

°•. Summary: You’re the best present Jimin could have asked for.

.•° Breaking Of The Fast by @versigny

°•. Summary: “Why don’t you want me?”

.•° Class President by @btssmutgalore

°•. Summary: Class president candidate Jimin would do anything to get your vote.

.•° Clone-a-Willy™ by @dovechim

°•. Summary: “I’ve had this plug in me all day, when do I get to feel your cock instead?”

°•. Sequel: Heightened Secrecy

.•° Euphoria by @94hixtape

°•. Summary: “Let’s have a threesome when we graduate, if… uh, we’re still single that is…”

.•° Gingerbread House by @readyplayerhobi (feat. Jungkook)

°•. Summary: Do you have a sweet tooth? Or do you prefer a bit of spice in your treats? Gingerbread House has all your needs met with our large range of confectionery that’s sure to meet everyone’s tastes. For those looking for something a little more personalised, we’re always willing to create bespoke confectionery to suit you. Give us a call or visit our store, you’re sure to find plenty to sink your teeth into!

.•° Little Monster by @floralseokjin

°•. Summary: You’ve been good friends with your roommate Jimin for a while, occasionally flirting with each other, especially when you’ve had a drink, but nothing has ever happened between the two of you…until that is, he secretly listens to you and Namjoon have sex one day…He thinks you don’t know, but he’s wrong…

.•° Lower by @parkmuse

°•. Summary: After six months you finally break the sexual tension… with phone sex.

.•° Mischievous Maintenance by @dark-muse-iris

°•. Summary: Like many adults who are trying to make the best of working in a field unrelated to their degree, you greet Mondays with the same enthusiasm as an ex with shared custody. You don’t to be there, but adult responsibilities require it and you need money. And coffee. And the salacious advances from the head maintenance technician working in your office.

.•° Nursemaid by @noona-la-la-la

°•. Summary: Jimin’s crush comes over to his house to help him out after he suffers an injury that leaves him with limited use of both hands.

.•° One More Time by taepott

°•. Summary: You can’t resist Jimin, even if he is a fuckboy.

.•° Raw by @btsjeonjazz

°•. Summary: A demon and an angel are trying to win over you. But who will succeed?

.•° Watch Me by @swoonjoon

°•. Summary: Who knew watching some camboy would turn into so much more?

TAEHYUNG

.•° Bad Decisions by @94hixtape

°•. Summary: Taehyung sighs in the curve of your neck, lips roaming the soft expanse of skin as his hands can’t seem to find a resting spot in the curves of your body. It’s one am and the silence in his dorm room is as overwhelming as it is exciting; you blame on the bottle of vodka the two of you had while studying for finals. One hour ago it seemed like a good idea. One hour later, not so much.

.•° Desideratum by @junqkook

°•. Summary: You had no idea you’d fall for a Hufflepuff, especially not the seeker with a big smile and wandering hands that you spent more time in bed with than you cared to admit.

.•° Fever by @yoonia

°•. Summary: “I wish I could hate you.”

.•° Good Girl by @suga-kookiemonster

°•. Summary: You don’t really know much about kim taehyung. What you do know is that he’s your handsome coworker and that, since you just accidentally sent him a nude, you’re good and royally fucked.

.•° Heatwave by @curly-bangtan

°•. Summary: When your town is hit with a heatwave, and the air conditioning at your shared place coincidentally malfunctions, you start to go a little crazy at your shit luck because there’s nothing you hate more than clammy pits, while Taehyung goes a little crazy thinking you’re trying to seduce him with your tiny shorts and popsicle-sucking skills.

.•° H is for Hairpulling by @polaritae

°•. Summary: You continue your work, trying your best to gently untangle his hair. For the most part, you only have to give the strands a tug and they unravel, but some knots are worse than others. A particularly large mess has you yanking at the strands. Taehyung whimpers.

.•° Of Lace and Lust by @hobidreams

°•. Summary: Friendship rule number one: Don’t imagine how amazing your best friend’s cock would feel inside you. Except that’s all you can think about after accidentally discovering Taehyung’s kink for panties. Specifically, the lacy ones you’re so fond of wearing.

.•° On The Significance Of Names by @wildernessuntothemselves

°•. Summary: Despite living in a world where romantic or sexual relationships with witches could be punishable by death, you, a witch, still feel confident enough to ask your friend Taehyung, a werewolf and prince, to allow you to relieve your intense curiosity that could’ve only sprouted from years of sexual repression, and give you the chance to feel what it’s like to pleasure a man.

.•° One Night Snap by @taesjpg

°•. Summary: [23:09] Kim Taehyung: DO NOT OPEN THE SNAP I JUST SENT TO YOU FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE DON’T

°•. Sequel: Part 2

.•° The Fanmeet by @ellieljade

°•. Summary: Taehyung is jealous over Jungkook flirting with his girlfriend and decides to teach him a lesson in front of their fans.

.•° The Name Game by @drquinzelharleen

°•. Summary: You invite some of your friends over for a small party. When a tame night in turns into a dirty one. Your friend Hoseok comes up with a fun game for you all to participate in.

.•° The Silver One by @prolixitae

°•. Summary: You didn’t mean to swipe right but now you’re sleeping with a hot jewelry salesman who makes fun of bottoms as much as you do.

.•° Voice Note by @kpopfanfictrash

°•. Summary: Taehyung: did u listen [4:16 PM]

JUNGKOOK

.•° A Sip of the Grail by @jinpire

°•. Summary: You take in his expression curiously, trying to understand this new Jungkook that’s somehow both bold and shy, before tilting your chin to the left and exposing the curve of your neck. A quick hook of your finger into the collar of your sweater unveils more of your shoulder to his gaze. “Go ahead, Jungkook,” you murmur, voice just above a whisper.

.•° All I Want for Cockmas by @junqkook

°•. Summary: You tell Santa exactly what you want for Christmas.

.•° Arm Candy by @bisougi

°•. Summary: “Yes, Mr. Jeon.”

.•° CaptainAmerica!Jungkook by @hayjeon

°•. Summary: His shield clatters to the floor as he rips off his mask and presses desperate, hard kisses to your lips, sucking the breath out of you and swallowing your mewls.

.•° Desiderium by @jeonggukingdom

°•. Summary: “We’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still so horny?”

.•° Fast and Definitely Furious by @parkmuse

°•. Summary: “Car sex looks so much easier in the movies.”

.•° Heat Wave by @iq-biased

°•. Summary: As soon as the ice touches his glowing skin, it begins to melt instantly - the jagged edge moulding into a smooth surface that ghosts lightly over his flesh.

.•° Mastur-bait by @kookswife (*)

°•. Summary: You drunkenly touch yourself in front of your neighbour, hoping he’ll take notice. You can’t help but do a double take when he actually does.

.•° Soft Touch by @minnpd

°•. Summary: “Thank god you’re home. I need a favor.”

.•° Stay by @kpopfanfictrash

°•. Summary: You and Jungkook are fuck buddies.

.•° Take Me to Church by @illneverrecover

°•. Summary: You can always tell when something is bothering your boyfriend, despite how hard he tries to hide it - and you have creative ways to get him to talk.

.•° Tinder 2.0 by @tayegi

°•. Summary: In disbelief over your good luck, you stumble down the hall towards the session rooms. A 9.8?! You’ve only been here twice. The first time you had been matched with a 6.5 and the second time with a 7, and both men had been so sexy and talented between the sheets that you had been walking on cloud nine for weeks afterwards. But now you were with a 9.8? You could hardly imagine what that would entail.

.•° Tooth and Claw by @johobi

°•. Summary: Sympathetic to the plight of the werewolves your kind have culled to near-extinction, life as a human informant has never been one of safety. However, when you catch the eye of an alpha, your situation only grows more perilous.

°•. Sequel: Moonsent

.•° Zipper by @parkmuse

°•. Summary: Your best friend thinks it’s a good idea to watch porn together, he’s dumb.

#anon #bts fic recs #bts smut #yes i know #idk how to make small lists #so fite me #g recs #g replies

126 notes · View notes

striving-artist · 3 years

Text

I slipped and wrote a very sweet, sad non-powered Avengers Polycule thing that I wasn’t planning to write, and also its a strangely stylized form of prose, so who knows if I’ll ever return to it.

Everyone is Poly because Avengers, but slightly extra Bucky/Toni.

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

The four of them didn’t make sense to anyone watching from the outside. They could pretend they were all just roommates if they had to, but it was a strange snarl of people and affection and friendship, and it was easier to think of them all as a single unit and go about their day.

Steve and Bucky had been best friends since diapers, had been each other’s firsts and were mad in love to the point they weren’t bothered by it being open. Natasha seduced the pair of them on a bet in college, and never really left. Then Steve met Sam at a bar and backtalked until they ended up defiling the back of an uber, and somehow, miracle of miracles, Sam’s eyes had lit up when Steve haltingly explained the situation with the others.

After that, they just… were.

When Clint was in town, an old friend of Nat’s, he usually took her on a date, but he was a strange type of intermittently ace. It didn’t bother any of them, just like it didn't bother Clint that Natasha had needs to be met, and loved the other three.

One really excellent weekend, Nat, Steve and Clint got a hotel room and burned through four months of Clint’s sexual needs in the space of two days.

Thor, when he was in the country, was a welcome addition. Carol and Maria were too possessive to share, but they came over for movie marathons and game nights.

It was messy, and every one of them had, at one point or another, been absolutely furious at someone else, but it always simmered back down, always came back to the four of them, in a tangle on the ultra-deep couch, fitting together in a way that they loved too much to throw away.

Then they met Toni.

Bucky met Toni.

She was drunk and dancing at a club that the others had dragged him to, and Bucky knocked a guy back who didn’t understand the word no. He woke up with her face tucked into his neck, snoring a bit, one hand gripping at his shirt.

She didn't leave after that.

She kept a lot of herself hidden away, kept secrets hidden behind the sorrow she couldn’t quite mask in her eyes. None of them pushed her about it. Toni Carbonell was carrying plenty, and she didn’t like to ask for help.

But it didn’t matter.

She snapped into place with them as easily as Sam had.

She and Sam in fact, were troublemakers, even more than when Nat and Toni would get up to something. Of course, when those two got up to trouble, it usually involved lacey things, and the boys knew better than to complain about that.

All summer, all through the scorching, humid days of a New York summer in their overpriced apartment, sweltering, even after Toni did her magic and got the AC working better, they were happy.

Bucky admitted it to Nat one night, as they were languid and sticky, waiting for the others to get back from a movie. He stumbled, trying to explain that it wasn’t like he was unhappy before, but that Toni filled a gap he didn't know was empty. Nat gave him one of her best enigmatic looks, and informed him that Sam had already told her the same thing. Steve told Bucky similar a few days later.

It was good.

It was right.

They balanced each other’s scale, picked up each other’s slack, got on each others nerve in the best possible way.

It wasn’t like they were trying to build themselves an idyllic hippie commune, or a pitch perfect polycule, but they’d done it all the same.

The lease on the apartment was up that autumn and Steve and Bucky spent a few long nights whispering about how to bring it up, searching for bigger apartments they could afford, wondering how to ask Toni to stay, to really stay. Sam crawled in between them and informed them that they needed to talk to Toni, cause he wasn’t planning on letting her go.

It was a big deal though.

Bucky knew that. Nat moved in on accident, and informed Steve and Bucky she was staying, but Sam was a negotiation. Toni would be the same way. The group was too complex to think she could slot into place without a real, formal conversation about it. That was fine. It would be worth it. Once they talked to her, explained that this wasn’t just some fun for them, that they wanted her to move in, not just stick around, once they explained all that - the little whisper of concern would fade. Maybe she’d let down some of her walls. Maybe she’d let them - maybe she’d let Bucky carry some of that weight for her.

Maybe she’d let them help her, the way she helped them with anything they mentioned.

Things didn’t always work out though.

They knew that. All of them knew that.

Didn’t make it hurt less when she vanished.

After one of the rare nights when all five of them were tangled together - not that they didn’t all want each other, but the logistics of that many limbs required planning - Bucky rolled over to pull her closer, and found the space empty.

It wasn’t uncommon.

She got an idea in her head, and had to do it immediately. She could have gone for post-orgy donuts, or to buy a new type of transistor for a project. It was Toni, five am departures weren’t all that weird.

When she didn’t come back that night, though.

When Nat found Toni’s phone in the basket by the door.

When Sam realized all her accounts online were deleted.

When Steve saw the half finished robot was missing.

When Bucky reached for an empty space for the fourth night in a row.

Just gone.

Whatever she’d been running from, or hiding from, maybe it had come around again. They knew she had secrets. They’d hoped she would share them one day. It didn’t work out. None of them blamed any of the others. They held tighter, held longer. Sam kept a closer eye on Bucky for a few weeks, aware that Toni had been his the way he and Steve were with each other. Bucky let them hold him, grateful none of them pushed to pretend there wasn’t a hole punched in their hearts.

It got better. Slowly.

It didn’t hurt less, but it hurt less often.

They stopped ordering from the dim sum place she’d loved. They didn’t watch the new season of project runway. Little changes. Little adjustments. Life went on. They all saw echoes of her in strangers on the street. All four had laughed a bit when the tabloids and the entertainment channels blew up about a high profile wedding. The new Mrs Tiberius Stone did look a lot like Toni.

Except Toni never looked so hollow, or so cold. She was never so sharp and crisp, with flawless hair and makeup. She always was in motion, bubbling over with excitement, stripping the wiring from the toaster oven because she had an idea at three am, with a smear of dirt and wild frizzy hair. She was bright and brilliant and beautiful, and the woman in the tabloids looked as dull and plasticine as every other rich heiress.

Thor came to visit that winter, brought a woman named Valkyrie with him, and for a week or two, the hole in their group was easy to forget.

They were better. They were healed. They were good again, laughing and joking, tangled with each other. They rebuilt their equilibrium. They kept their apartment, considering getting a cat.

Winter melted away, flowers bloomed, the air turned hot and stagnant, and the others nominated Bucky to go to the door when someone knocked at half past two in the morning. He was closest after all. Grumbling that they didn’t pause the movie, he went, not bothering with the peephole. It was probably Mr Phillips from down the hall, annoyed that they were laughing too loud.

Bucky opened the door, expecting nothing, and found Toni.

She seemed smaller, hunched, flinching from an invisible blow. She seemed thinner, no, gaunt, like she’d not seen a real meal in a year.

She seemed lost.

Bucky didn’t do a thing. He held open the door, and the others turned, and they saw, and they had Toni inside a moment later. Nightmares whipped through his head, and he knew they were hitting the others as well. They’d talked about it. All of them. In pairs and threes and all at once, they’d talked about where she might have gone, and the fears that chased them over it. They worried about drugs and kidnappers and murderers and cruel families. They worried about everything, because she was theirs, and she was gone.

It was hot and muggy, even late at night in the city, but Toni had arrived in jeans and an oversized, ratty sweatshirt with MIT across the chest.

Nat figured it out. Nat always figured things out first.

Bucky watched while Nat pushed up the sleeves to show the bruises on Toni’s wrists. Watched, and let Sam and Steve bracket him when Natasha finally convinced Toni to lift her chin and let them see the swelling and purple mess around her eye. See how her lip quivered and she refused to speak.

She was theirs, and she was hurting, so all of them moved at once.

They brought her a bag of frozen peas, and they grabbed water and a bottle of pain relievers. Steve went to pick her up, planning to take her to the couch where they could surround her with kindness and soft touches until she was ready to talk.

Toni flinched.

Toni stepped backwards. Lifted her chin like she was going to war. Like she was afraid of them.

Toni shifted her arms in a deliberate way, effective and brilliant and painful, and let the fabric of the sweatshirt pull tighter, making the bump obvious to them. Her eyes jumped to each of them, unable to make eye contact, searching for something. Waiting for them to recoil. To yell. To push. To hate her.

She’d been gone for nearly a year.

They only had her for a few months.

She came back fractured and wounded and looked at them like she expected to be thrown aside for this.

Gently, slowly, with a long caress along her jaw and neck to ask permission, Bucky carried her to the couch. The others followed. Flowed. Sat around her, sent discreet texts calling out of work the next day, and let her cry, willing to wait to hear what she needed.

After all, she was a part of them. Things were right when she was there.

She was hurting. She was hurt.

None of them were going to let her vanish again.

#my writing #abuse tw #I thrive on the excitement of others #so if you have thoughts #share them

13 notes · View notes