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dongofthewolf · 3 years

Note

Hello! May I request a number 8 or number 11? She/her pronouns are preferred :) thx!!

I Despise That I Adore You

Abby Anderson X Reader

Prompt: 8. Hands brushing unexpectedly 11. Secret relationship

Warnings: swearing, fluff

Link to the prompt list here

A/N: I kind of decided last minute to write like 1.5k more words for this fic because uhhhh idk but I hope you enjoy (especially if you requested it) !!

A/N: I also didn’t realize you only requested one of the two prompts so I accidentally wrote both LOL but thanks for the request(s) !!

You have always had a very dichotomous view on life; you believed that you either liked a person, or you didn’t. It was a simple notion and a digestible one at that, but never did you think that a touch—a single accidental touch from someone you most definitely didn’t like, could wreck your world this way.

You were at a briefing for an upcoming mission. It was a long, drawn out process that you dreaded, but what made it even worse was Abby. Okay, maybe not Abby specifically, but the fact that she could sit there at six in the morning and look so effortlessly beautiful, annoyed you more than you could say. Her outfit was the same as it almost always was; a simple grey tank top with green cargo pants and boots. Nothing extraordinary or outstanding, but you still couldn’t help but find it annoyingly attractive when she crossed her fucking enormous arms over her chest like that. God, she wasn’t even trying and you were losing it.

You didn’t like Abby—you couldn’t like her. How could you possibly like her when every single sign told you not to? She was stubborn and closed off, always shielding herself from the world with some serious facade you knew was bullshit. Maybe Abby did flirt with you occasionally and perhaps you did participate in it sometimes, but that all meant nothing. And anyways, even if you did like Abby (which you obviously didn’t) it would hurt you too much when she inevitably left you for someone prettier or cooler or smarter, and you didn’t need that right now.

Abby was all types of wrong and you knew that, which is why you were so utterly puzzled by this small, electric touch. It wasn’t even longer than a second, but as soon as it happened your heart felt like it had just been squeezed like a fucking lemon.

The briefing was finally over and you were quick to leave so you could actually get some sustenance for your body, and then it happened. You hadn’t even noticed that Abby was there when you dashed out the small exit of the military tent until you felt the smallest brush of her hand against yours. You paused to look back at Abby and she was looking at you too, and you swear it would’ve taken a damn machete to cut through the tension between those few, fleeting seconds of stillness.

Your hand burned from where it had grazed Abby’s and you clenched your fingers into a fist to try and relieve yourself from the sensation. Promptly shoving your hand behind your back to hide it from Abby’s inquisitive gaze, you slowly backed away with your eyes still fixed to hers. And though there was a great amount of distance between the two of you, you noticed something in her stare. You weren’t sure if it was just your brain being stupid or manipulative, but you could’ve sworn you saw the slightest hint of endearment in Abby’s eyes.

You tried to back away quicker but nearly fell over because of a stray root in the ground that you definitely weren’t looking at, and you could see Abby snort as she tried to hold back her laughter. Smiling nervously, you turned around and bolted towards the cafeteria. It was way too early for this.

Hoping to find some solace in a burrito, you practically ran to the cafeteria, but before you could even smell that lovely tortilla blanket, someone caught you. Abby was breathing slightly heavier than usual when she pulled you aside, practically trapping you against the wall behind you.

“Why are you running from me?”

Abby’s arm was leaning on the wall next to your head and it took every ounce of willpower not to stare at her massive biceps. “I’m not running from you.”

“Um, I think the fact that I literally just sprinted after you, says something slightly different.” Abby used her other hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “So are we going to talk about it, or are you just going to run again?”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Talk about what?”

Abby gestured her hands awkwardly between the two of you. “Us—this. Whatever this is.”

“Abby, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about, but even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. So if you’ll excuse me, I need to grab some food now.” You ducked under Abby’s arm and began walking away but her next words stopped you in your tracks.

“I don’t understand you, I really don’t.” Abby was pacing now, her hands moving wildly as she spoke. “It’s like… sometimes you’re cold and distant and running away from me, and I just kind of accept it. I mean, even though it’s not like I’ve ever done anything to make you hate me this much, it obviously won’t help my situation if I continue to flirt with you. But then the next day I’ll catch you looking at me in that way and-”

“In what way?” You interrupted.

“Seriously?” Abby cocked her eyebrow, her mouth curled into an annoyed smirk as she rolled her eyes. “You look at me like you’re not sure whether you want to pounce me or punch me in the face.”

She said it so plainly that you were speechless for a second, was it seriously that obvious? There was so much going through your head right now, but the one thing that stuck with you was the fact that you agreed with her. Though it’s not like you could ever admit it, so instead you opted for some good ol’ denial. “I do not.”

Abby was quick to respond, like she had anticipated your answer. “You do, and you know what? I honestly have no problem with it. In fact, I encourage it! I mean if you weren’t so confusing, I’d have asked you out by now. You’re gorgeous and smart and a major badass on the field, but I just have no idea what you want from me.”

The last sentence threw you for a loop and before you knew it, your heart was doing the squeezing thing again. Did she truly think you were all those things?

Thinking about it, perhaps your problem wasn’t that you hated Abby. After all, it’s not like the reasons you disliked her were of any merit anyways. In fact, you kind of admired Abby when she wasn’t being a cocky bastard, but that still didn’t mean you could date her. Sure, she was kind of hot, and maybe you found her just the slightest bit charming, but you couldn’t possibly put yourself on the spot like that. Not only was she all types of wrong, Abby was also your superior, and Lord knows the scandal that dating her would transpire.

Finally finding some semblance of composure, you spoke hesitantly. “Abby you’re my superior and if people found out I- we just can’t, okay? I’m sorry.” You internally cringed at your words. It was such a stupid excuse but you still couldn’t help but fear the backlash you would receive for this.

Abby took a second to think before speaking. “Can I ask you a question?”

You didn’t say anything, just nodded your head slightly.

“Do you like me?” Abby’s eyes were sort of wide and almost hopeful, and you felt a slight tinge of remorse because you weren’t sure you could give her an answer. It was a simple question, but something inside you just couldn’t manage to form a proper response.

“Whether I like you or not doesn’t matter Abby, we can’t be together. I’ve worked so hard to get here and I’m not going to be belittled or ridiculed because I can’t keep my emotions in check.”

“So what you’re saying is… there are emotions to keep in check?” There was a hint of mischief in her tone and a smile on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever groaned so loudly.

“I did not say that.”

“It was implied.”

Abby chuckled to herself, taking a step towards you with every punctuated word. “Okay, let’s say that hypothetically you do have feelings for me, and that hypothetically I could make sure no one knew we were dating. Would you go out with me then?

You scoffed as you took a step towards her, your bodies now just inches from each other. “Oh yeah? And hypothetically, how would you do that?”

“It's simple, we date in secret.” Abby said it so nonchalantly that you thought she was joking. It took a few moments of awkward silence before you realized that she was serious.

“You’re kidding? That would never work.”

“Um first of all, I’m always serious, and second of all, did you forget that we are literally trained to be stealthy? I think if we can handle clickers, we can handle a secret relationship. Honestly Y/N, it seems like the only problem here is that you’re scared of going out with me because…” Abby took another step towards you, backing you against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her chest. “you’re afraid you’ll fall for me.”

You were utterly speechless. You wanted so badly to respond with a snarky comeback or a cheap insult, but as much as you hated to admit it, you were totally afraid of going out with her. Commitment is horrifying and complicated and you’ve gone your whole life trying to avoid it. But now? Abby was offering you a simple solution and before your mind could begin to consider the downsides to this, you answered.

“Fine. But if we get caught, it’s on you.”

And just like that, your secret relationship with Abby began.

It only took the first two dates for you to warm up to Abby—though you were incredibly apprehensive about all of it at first—it wasn't long before she had successfully charmed her way to your heart. And though you’d never admit it out loud, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t having at least a little bit of fun. It was thrilling running around with Abby like this; late-night dates, stolen looks during briefings, clandestine touches while passing each other in the halls, the way she seemed to be just a little bit more protective of you during patrols. You revelled in the way she held you when no one was around, when it was just the two of you.

It had almost been two months, and hiding a secret relationship with Abby was getting surprisingly more difficult. You figured it was likely a product of the fact that after your first kiss, Abby couldn’t seem to keep her hands off of you. It seemed as though someone was somehow lurking around every corner of this damn stadium, and the amount of times Abby had to sneak out of your room in the morning before your roommate woke up was honestly getting kind of absurd.

However, one major upside that’s come out of this deal is that you no longer despised briefings. In fact—now that you and Abby had this strange arrangement—you almost looked forward to mission briefings. The fondness for them was partly because you got to stare at Abby with adoration rather than anger, but mostly it was because you got to tease her like there was no tomorrow during them.

It was another early briefing and Isaac was droning on about… patrols? Or maybe it was borders, you weren’t really sure. Instead of focusing on his dull rambles, your mind was wandering elsewhere.

Abby was sitting in the seat next to you, her legs spread out while she leaned her toned forearms on the table in front of her. Keeping your eyes focused on Isaac, you brushed your knee against Abby’s just slightly before letting your hand slowly creep closer to her leg. Abby immediately knew what you were doing, quickly turning her attention towards you with a small tilt of her head. And though your eyes were fixed on the man in front of you, you knew she had a cautious look on her face.

A small smirk crept onto your lips as you let your hands make their way higher and higher till it was resting on her thigh. Letting it linger there, you traced little circles with your fingers, noting the way Abby covered her face with her hand to hide her expression before you gave her leg the smallest squeeze. Abby jumped in her seat and the whole room immediately turned their attention to her. Trying to hide her obvious freak-out Abby cleared her throat before asking some stupid question about intercepting the target while you did your best not to laugh next to her. When she finally finished rambling and the focus was off of her, Abby snuck you the smallest look, the kind of look that said “I’m totally going to get you for that later”.

At the end of the briefing, you noticed Abby making conversation with Manny near the exit of the military tent and an idea popped into your head. You made sure to look straight ahead as you nonchalantly walked out the exit before letting your hand brush up against Abby’s while you passed by. It still shocked you sometimes; somehow after nearly two months of hiding your relationship, her touch still managed to send you soaring. The familiar burn against your fingertips from your not-so-accidental accidental touch still lingering on your hand like an imprint—her imprint.

You looked back at her with a mischievous smirk on her face and she rolled her eyes before whispering something to Manny. Walking away knowingly, you were unsurprised when she cornered you behind a cement pillar with her hands on your hips and her mouth hungrily on yours. Abby spoke with her mouth still against yours, refusing to break the kiss.

“You know, for someone who was so adamant about having a secret relationship, you sure seem to enjoy attracting attention to us.”

You smiled into the kiss, your fingers moving to play with the end of her braid before giving it the smallest tug. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Abby groaned and you chuckled at her expression when you pulled away from her lips, causing Abby to nearly face-plant into the pillar behind you. You giggled, smiling at Abby teasingly before feigning an annoyed tone as you turned away from her with your arms crossed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to grab some food now.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #the last of us imagine #abby anderson #abby tlou #tlou2 #the last of us 2 #fluff #secret relationship #yes this was an excuse to openly express my desire to be cornered by a buff lady so she can make out with me in secret #no i will not be apologizing

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

illicit affair;

full masterlist

Pairings: Professor!Andy Barber x female!reader (AU)

Word count: 2,898

Warning: SMUT!!!! fingering, blowjob (male receiving), dirty talk. (MUST BE 18+)

Summary: you had been crushing on your sexy professor, Andy Barber since the beginning of the semester but he made it hard for you to focus in class. lucky for you, he was willing to give you the best lesson in your life though.

a/n: this one’s written for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817‘s shameless hoes for chris writing challenge. i picked the prompt “your professor has a different kind of extra credit in mind.” hope you like it! leave a like and comment. enjoy!

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There he goes again, captivating the entire room with that dashing suit and tie, making it difficult for you to breathe. Andy Barber was the professor of your criminal law class. To say he was attractive would be an understatement. The man is the living embodiment of every girl’s wildest dreams. When you first took the class, with the hopes of becoming a social worker, you didn’t expect it to be this challenging. You were confident in your own work ethic and in being a fast learner. No major was too onerous for you to ace.

Until Andy Barber walked into the class on that first day and you realized he was going to teach you for the entire semester.

You had never had a man spellbinding you this badly before. You had a few crushes here and there, but not once did they make you feel the way Andy Barber does. And you knew that it was inappropriate to lust after your professor but, it wasn’t a crime if he is a divorcé and the whole class could relate, right?

It wasn’t only wrong but it was also cruel and unfair that he succeeded in making you lose every bit of your focus whenever he was around. No matter how hard you try to pay attention to what he is lecturing about, your mind would always drift away to nasty places that you shouldn’t even be thinking about visiting. No matter how hard you try to simply open your laptop and type away the vital points that you would need to memorize for final exams, you just couldn’t. It’s like you were paralyzed by his magnetism and oh, how well did he do it.

Like how you currently had a pen stuck between your teeth as if you were fellating it because you were imagining what it would be like to have those plump lips of his on yours and so your pen had to take the beating.

You didn’t know whether he noticed you at all from where you were sitting, you always choose to sit in the middle row, where you could still see things clearly on the board but you didn’t have to feel so exposed because sitting on the front row means everyone who sat behind you could see every movement you make and you would have to deal with the uneasiness of the proximity between you and your professor gave you and you had no wish to make it worse for yourself.

It wasn’t only that he was insanely good-looking but he was also a gentleman. He always charmed the class with his humorous comments and witty jokes while he was doing a lecture or simply when he called out a student who fell asleep. He always made himself available for his students who were confused about the subject or needed guidance on some complex topics. He always greeted the class with a warm smile and he always tried to understand the struggles of being a college student.

You had lost count on how many filthy dreams you had about this man, and how many daydreams you had lost yourself in during his class or simply when you were wide awake. He truly got you on a chokehold. A part of you would sometimes wonder, how could anyone divorce this man? If he were your husband, you would feel like the luckiest woman on earth. You wouldn’t ask for anything else in life.

“Any question…?” He ended today’s session by allowing the students to raise their hands if they needed some enlightenment.

Several students raised their hands and presented their questions and he answered them all eloquently. When there was no more question asked, he dismissed the class and all of the students got out of their seats and exited the room. You were still stuck amidst of your fantasy where Professor Barber was devouring you like you were the last tasty meal on earth and he hadn’t been fed for a month. The thought of his mouth lapping your juices as his beard creating delicious friction on your inner thigh alone was enough to soak your panties.

You didn’t realize that the class was over until everyone had left and your professor called out your name. There were only the two of you now in the room.

“Y/N? Y/N! Class is dismissed.” He shook you out of your daydream with the gentleness of his voice.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, sir I was- I’m gonna leave now.”

“Are you alright? You zoned out a little there.”

“Yeah, I’m okay, I just- I… I was thinking… of… finals. Yeah, I was thinking of finals.”

“If you need a brief tutor, I wouldn’t mind.”

“No, no! It’s fine, really, I’ll manage. Have a good day sir.” You hurriedly pack up your laptop and stationery and you immediately ran for the door. But you were abruptly stopped by his voice that had slightly shifted its tone.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Miss Y/L/N, do you have a minute?”

Oh shit. This is it. This is where he is going to interrogate you for always being absentminded throughout his entire session and you are probably going to say something really idiotic and you are going to embarrass yourself or you might even spill your own secrets and he is going to get you suspended and then-

“Yes, sir.” You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Come here, have a seat.” He pulled a chair from one of the tables and placed it across his seat.

You nervously approached him and sat down as your hands trembled because if there’s another word to describe Andy Barber, it would be intimidating. His charisma isn’t only appealing but could also conquer his interlocutors.

“I’ve noticed that your grades have been slipping lately, why is that?”

“I just- I don’t know, maybe I’ve been really tired, sir. College can be really stressful.”

“I understand. But what puzzles me is that I did some background check on you and your grades in other subjects are doing really well. In fact, you had kept a solid 4.0 GPA for two years in a row now. So, what is the problem here, y/n?”

You gulped. Fucking hell, how the hell were you supposed to answer that? “Oh, don’t worry, it’s simply you being so ridiculously hot that you have been distracting me every time you’re lecturing. Maybe, I don’t know, if you could just bend me over on your desk and make me your girlfriend, that might help me take my mind off you.”

“I just- I’ve had a lot in my mind, sir, and it’s just- this subject is really hard,” you spoke meekly. “I promise, I will work really hard on my finals, sir. I won’t let you down.” You hoped that it was convincing enough so that you could carry on with your day and not sit here like a scared mouse.

“Final starts in two weeks,” he reminded you. “How are you going to convince me that you could wrap an entire semester within only two weeks when you have other courses demanding equal attention, y/n?”

“Um, I don’t know, maybe I’ll ask a friend to help me study. I’ll do whatever it takes to pass the test, sir. I give you my word.” Goddamnit, what the hell was he doing to you? Of course, you weren’t going to ask for anybody’s help, you were always the one who was giving help to your fellow classmates instead of needing one. Now you were just making silly excuses to get you out.

His brows furrowed. You knew he wasn’t going to buy your answer so easily. Andy took his job very seriously and it disappointed him to the extreme when one of his students wasn’t doing well in his course. It made him feel like he didn’t do enough in educating these young people. So when one of his students didn’t fulfil his expectations, he was going to address it and solve the problem together.

There was a silence that lingered between the two of you until he broke it off, “how far are you willing to go to pass this class, y/n?”

“Anything sir, I-, I care about my grades. I know I don’t show it enough but I won’t fail you this time.”

“Anything?” Suddenly, the expression on his face transitioned into something impish.

“Yeah, anything at all, sir.”

“How about I offer you a proposition?” His tone was sultry.

“You do something for me, and I’ll make sure you get an A+ on your test. You don’t have to worry about failing.”

“What do you have in mind, sir?”

Instead of giving you a direct answer, he stood up from his seat and sat on the edge of the table. His hands were folded on his propped up thigh.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time, y/n and I want an honest answer. No bullshit or the deal is off.”

You were taken aback by the word that he just used. It wasn’t very in-character of him to cuss, especially in front of a student. You didn’t know if he was a completely different man outside of the university, so this was certainly something you weren’t used to.

“O-okay…”

“Why are you failing in my class, y/n?”

You bit your lip so hard you thought it might bleed. Your lips quivered as tears began brimming in your eyes. You were scared of telling him the truth but you knew if you lie again, he would see right through you and you would end up failing his class for real and there will be no second chance. You refused to retake the same course next semester when you could be getting closer to getting your degree.

You drooped your head down in defeat. The eye contact was overwhelming you and you sucked it up and gathered every last bit of dignity you had in you to give him an answer.

“I… I’m attracted to you, sir.”

He nodded. What you didn’t see was a wicked smirk forming on his lips, as if he knew what he was going to hear when he made you confess. “Go on.”

“I can’t stop thinking about- about making love to you, sir.” you stuttered your words. You cringed at your own words. There was no way to unring the bell now. You just humiliated yourself in front of the person whose attention you wanted the most. He disclosed your dirtiest secrets and this was going to be your doom.

“Good girl. Now, we better not stall any longer, yeah? I’ve got another class in twenty minutes.” He sat back on the chair and ordered, “get on your knees.”

“Wh… What?”

“You heard me. On your knees, I won’t tell you anymore.” his tone sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t know what was happening but you were excited. You got on your feet and before you could even take a step, he stopped you. “No, no. Crawl.”

You stared at him incredulously as if he had just told you a joke. But you did what you were told to anyway, fearing that you would disappoint him before the act could even begin. You got on your knees with your hands on the floor and crawled to between his spread knees.

You waited for his next instruction with your hands on your thighs as your head hung low. “Take off my pants.”

Without further delay, you undid the zip of his pants and pulled the waistband down along with his boxer briefs, just enough to let his enormous cock spring free. “Good girl. You listen well. Now… you know what to do.” He rested his forearms on the arms of the chair and leaned back on the headrest nonchalantly whilst still maintaining his gaze on you.

Shit, you always fantasized about him using your body but you weren’t actually experienced. Yes, you’ve had a few casual hookups now and then, but it was nothing like this. Your professor who seemed to really enjoy turning you into a puddle by simply commanding you around like his own personal sex slave.

“C’mon, sweetheart, don’t act like you haven't watched porn.”

You start by doing what you had learned from a few pornographic videos which is by stroking him with your hand and then you wrap your lips around his shaft. The taste of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva made you moan. His hand then went to grab a fistful of your hair to push you forward until his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Ah, fuck. That’s better.” Then he took the wheel from there, using your hair as leverage to guide you up and down at a moderate pace. He grunted as he threw his head back against the headrest. “Shit, that’s good. Keep going, baby.” A part of you was a tad elated when he praised you for something you had very little experience in. The ecstatic look on his face amplified the dampness in your panties, your body begging for more. He kept using your face to get himself off and you felt him convulsed in your mouth. He quickened his motion and then released deep inside your throat.

A few seconds later, he pulled himself out after his cum painted your trachea. “Get up and bend on the table,” you did what he says and pressed your cheek on the wooden surface. “Who knew a 4.0 GPA student like you would be such a dirty slut? You might fool everyone but you can’t fool me, baby.”

He lifted the hem of your plaid skirt and smacked your buttocks with both of his hands, leaving a fiery red handprint on your buttcheeks. You yelped as it echoed on the walls. He pushed aside the crotch of your underwear, and he inserted two of his fingers inside soaked holes, scissoring you wide open for him. You moaned in pleasure as you gripped the edge of the table.

“Fucking slut. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet for me?” You didn’t answer as you continued to cry out. He smacked your left bum once more, “answer me!”

“Yes! Yes, sir.” You stammered between your ragged breathing.

“Is this why you can’t get your shit together? ‘Cause you keep fantasizing about my fingers buried deep in your needy cunt?”

“Yes sir…” your voice quaked.

“Extra points for honesty.” He retreated his fingers and replaced it with his cock. The unwarned intrusion sent a jolt through your body. You squealed in shock as you closed your eyes, trying to adjust yourself to his size. “Ah fuck, you’re so tight.” His hand went to your hair once more and grabbed a fistful of it as he began driving his hips forward. The friction in your G-spot sent electricity through your veins.

He didn’t waste any time by picking up the pace as he lifted your head and brought it closer to his, making you look up to him. “Does that feel good, baby? Is this how you imagined?” He kept thrusting brutally in between his foul words. “yes… Sir. You feel so good around me.” He pecked a brief kiss on your lips and kept pounding you like an animal.

A few more violent strikes and you clenched around him, pushing him to the edge along with you. “Cum baby, show me what a dirty whore you are.” You shut your eyes as you felt the tightening coil in your belly and then it burst, your orgasm dripping all over your thighs. Andy was so close to his climax and a few more deep-seated thrusts, he reached his own and he ejaculated deep inside your womb.

You tried to regain control over your breathing with Andy still engulfed in you. A few minutes later, you both came down from your highs as Andy pulled himself out of you. He put his pants back on and threw himself back on the chair. You stood up on your wobbly legs as you felt your panties squelch with both yours and Andy’s cum blended.

You straighten your rumpled skirt and shirt, as Andy did so with his tie. “You should go, don’t you have another class?”

“I do, but… Did I pass the test, sir?” you batted your lashes at him. The fear and agitation that were there ten minutes ago had dissolved.

He chuckled at your coquettish remark. He stood up from his chair and closed the distance between you. “Yes sweetheart, you passed the test.”

You beamed as you bit your lip once more. “If you got another test for me, I wouldn’t mind…” you spoke timidly.

“You really are something, aren’t you?”

You shrugged, “I’ve got layers, sir.”

He looked at his watch and realized that he only had five minutes left for his next session. “You are dismissed… For now. I’ve got more lessons that I’d like to teach you, baby.” He winked at you and pecked your lips.

“I’ll be looking forward to our next class, sir.” You packed up your bags and exited to the hall. Looks like you just bent every rule of the university, but you had no doubt in mind that you would do it over and over and over again for your favourite professor.

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber au #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #andy barber fanfic #andy barber imagine #andy barber fic #andy barber one shot #professor!andy barber #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #chris evans imagine #chris evans #shamelesshoesforchris #defending jacob

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I the scholar interlude

💖 first time reader click here 💖

Bruce Banner angst (&POV). Because our boys are sad and writer has a saviour complex. That's about it.

For the longest time, Bruce Banner considered himself unwanted, unloveable, undesirable. He would've been just as happy to be ignored as he was content with existing only within the confines of his own lab, his presence on this planet only marked by the ever growing pile of projects and articles with his name on them.

Dr. Robert Bruce Banner. He wanted nothing to do with his father's name so he dropped it years ago but one look at his government ID still made him sick deeply in the pit of his stomach. Sometimes, being the Hulk had it's advantages, and by that he meant, it was good that people mostly left him alone.

But his life was built on exceptions and he knew that sooner or later, the carefully maintained balance would tip one way or another. The exception came in a form of a fellow brilliant scientist and innovative engineer - just like multiple times before, he'd worked side by side with Tony without a second thought, not expecting much more than the feeble attempts to make friends and subsequent abandonment once Tony got what he wanted from him.

Bruce failed to take into account, perhaps, the most obvious thing: Tony was a man who had everything and nothing. Bruce didn't expect Tony's deeply rooted loneliness to affect him; after all, he was used to being alone himself, alone was safe, for everyone, not just him. But Tony's smile was a little wicked, and it knocked and knocked on his doors until he had no other option but to let Tony in.

"PUNY BANNER ALWAYS AFRAID," Hulk mocked him inside his head. Despite wanting to blow out his brains every single day, Bruce sighed and soldiered on, focusing on his research instead of answering to his green problem. It was all pointless anyway.

Days blended into one another like they tended to do when one had no destination; achievements and professional success stacked up on top of each other but it was all a tapestry, background noise to his ever-living cacophony of problems and struggles with fighting with himself. Every day, he wanted just to lay down and die.

In times like these, the Hulk took the wheel, dipping Banner nose-first, like a misbehaving pet, into the fact that he had nothing to live for. Nothing to look forward to. The meaninglessness of his life.

"Maybe, the destination isn't that important," She was a child, a girl little out of her teens, and it alarmed Bruce how much she seemed to agree with him sometimes. It seemed wrong for someone so young to be so disillusioned with life. "Maybe it was the shawarma we ate along the way," She shrugged, not noticing how those words seemed to affect Bruce at all. These days, it seemed, children crawled out of the womb already bitter and disappointed.

It went on like that for ages. She was a contradiction, very much like Tony, with a grin that was a little wicked and a mouth that was a little shameless. She bore no expectations towards him and seemed to be slightly afraid of herself; the longer he thought about it, the less sense it made. He was a logical man, left-brain-dominant, and he was entirely sure it should have been the other way around.

The Hulk, however, didn't seem to agree with him. As usual, he wanted to say, the green beast was just making his life difficult because he - he was the anger, the grief Banner himself hadn't been allowed to express - but the more he was forced to listen to the Hulk's ramblings, the more terrified he found himself. Because he agreed.

She'd smile at him over the top of the beaker and Bruce'd smile back before he could catch himself. The guilt always came and went. It was hard to feel guilty when she refused to. The carelessness that all young people possessed was blossoming in her; only later he found out how wrong he was - there was no carelessness, there was no youthful joy, she was just as afraid and confused as he was.

"Puny Banner afraid," Hulk remarked, thoughtfully.

Yes, yes, he was afraid. He was afraid he'd tainted her somehow, but Hulk violently rebuked the thought, refusing to let him out for several hours, taking control almost pleadingly as the green beast attempted to convince Banner befriend the girl. In the end, he gave in. He always gave in.

He was afraid many times after that one, but it was a different fear. Fear of loss wasn't anything either Banner or Hulk were familiar with so the learning process took even less time than they both predicted; somehow, the woes of figuring out a friendship with an outsider united the man and the beast more than any battle against a common enemy. It was puzzling but also incredibly rewarding; the joys of a common success elevating both persons stuck in a single body.

"Banner afraid?" The Hulk asked, seeing the Asgardian trickster himself enter the lab.

No, Bruce said, because Loki looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but in the green beast's lair; something important was on his mind and if they had to guess, it was their Princess.

"The Widow asked me a favour," Loki began, eyeing the various contraptions in the lab. "Although, I must admit, I have no idea why she thinks you can do serious damage. The beast is merely a beast and you, Banner, would rather shoot yourself in the foot than harm anyone but yourself," The man's tone was bored.

"I don't understand..?" Bruce was confused, temporarily losing the guarded attitude.

"I think you do. And it's about time you stop making other people save you from yourself," Loki's green eyes caught his own and Banner's breath got stuck in his throat; there was something intimate, a very familiar expression on Loki's face. It disappeared as soon as Bruce quietly acknowledged it. "I, for one, have no desire to lose this... Sense of companionship that has been cultivated recently." With that, the god turned around and promptly exited the space, taking any possibility of explanation with him.

"Banner afraid of himself," The Hulk concluded, uncharacteristically mellow in the back of his mind. Bruce cursed wordlessly, the green beast merely laughing in response. "Princess isn't afraid of Banner, isn't afraid of Hulk," The Jolly Green boasted, feeling way too satisfied for someone who'd made their first friend.

The childlike joy was infectious, it turned out, and day after day it became easier to breathe around here. Only his darker part wasn't as under control as it used to be and continuously craved more and more; as soon as Bruce acknowledged she was no child but rather a very capable, intelligent woman who's been forced to grow up sooner than strictly necessary, the desire consumed him, turned him careless and sloppy.

It didn't help that Tony had come to the same conclusion. Hulk all but forced Banner to go out and confess and clear his conscience; it seemed that lately, out of two of them, Hulk was the adult and Banner was the child being egged on to finally grow up by a persistent, supportive parent. Hulk and supportive? More likely that you'd think, especially when the green creature itself was interested in a positive outcome.

"Banner afraid?" Hulk's quiet words provided him with the strength he needed to meet her eyes, wide and round, as she wordlessly pleaded with him to help her. No, he was not afraid, not anymore. He believed her, he believed himself. For the first time in ages, he had a reason to be.

Banner wasn't afraid anymore. That said, it wasn't as if he suddenly became careless and sloppy - more like the opposite. Turned out, he was living his life without a care in the world but his paralyzing fear of himself. It was hard to be afraid under a thousand-watt smile, it was impossible to stay invisible seeing yourself reflect in eyes that shone brighter than the stars.

He'd always considered himself to be a hopeless romantic to the point of ridicule. He'd reached a point where love songs made sense and no poet was quite skilled enough to capture the sweet storms raging behind his ribs. If anything, she returned the sentiment tenfold, quietly and shyly.

Love didn't scream from the rooftops and didn't force him to fall head over heels only God knew where; it had been next to him the whole time, quiet and drowsy, waiting, expecting. Over dinner or under florescent lab lights, the Beast and his Beauty shared the conversations, ate the soul food.

"I think, if I had to ask for a portrait of Us, I would have to request the painting twice," She said, puzzling his mind (as usual). He remained quiet, expecting her to explain. "There are the public Us, the ones that wear their suits and smiles like warriors wear armour. That's the way I want the world to remember me, pretty and smiling. I don't want people to cry at my funeral, I want them to dance and be happy because I existed," She caught his stare, smile a little too teasing and eyes a little too serious. "And then there are Us that only we see. It's intimate and I don't think the whole world has earned the privilege to see me like that. I don't think some paper shark should have the honour to see the way Tony's eyes light up for you or the way Loki gets gentle around Wanda. Things like that are earned," It was bizarre, it was strange and it made all the sense.

Perhaps, it was the fact that his Princess was just as weird as the rest of them that made her fit in so quickly, so easily. And he was afraid - it was only a matter of time until the idyllic atmosphere would turn into something heavy and difficult.

It did, but not in the way he thought it would be. For the first time in years, Banner was angry. Not Hulk - Bruce was angry, and he allowed that anger to flow, to course through his veins like molten lava. He didn't fight it, he wasn't afraid of it. Not anymore.

She took it away, too. In the end, she was the bandaid to his bleeding wound, the lullaby to soothe his fear - Banner was angry but Hulk was afraid. They both knew they were helpless, having to rely on others to make sure they will never, ever feel that way again.

So when the female-looking symbiote landed on the patio of the residential floor, Bruce's heart skipped a single beat only. Tony's prone form raised a reasonable amount of concern, but their attention quickly turned to the girl-no, woman, standing still, both terrified and fearless at the same time, as she once again took his fear and anger away.

She was beautiful, like a goddess, like a Valkyrie from Thor's tales, dropping the enemy at their feet like a cat brought his prey to it's owner; her actions screamed "love me" but her words knew it might as well be the last time she'd see them be warm towards her. Much like Banner, she was afraid of herself. Of what she's capable of.

"Bruce, don't tell me you're okay with this," Tony pleaded. Banner knew Tony, he knew how sensitive was the engineer to his personal bubble being broken and he knew, she knew it, too. If she was willing to take the risk, they meant more than life to her. It was an honour, really.

"I'm not but I have to be," He removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes. "I can't risk it, Tony. If we reject her now, we'll never see her again. She's just as terrified as we are, if not more. We've been living like this, what, five, ten years? And it never gets easier. I know it, you know it." The more he spoke, the surer he became. "She accepted us, our shit and all. For once, I'll be the better person and do the same." With that, he departed for her, hugging her from behind as Natasha and Loki stood by her side with Wanda holding onto the Asgardian.

Bruce held his breath until Tony joined in, hiding his silent tears in his shirt. Neither of them could decide what hurt more - losing her or the potential of facing the very unforgiving reality of their life. Bruce had to trust Tony to pick the right option, to do the right thing and it was terrifying, it was skin-frightening but sometimes, there was just no other way.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

#party favours #bun writes #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x you

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itswildwinters · 4 years

Text

Hello lovelies and welcome to my October 2020 fic recs. These are the fics that I read these last few months. The main pairing is Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles.

This is also an appreciation post to all writers out there. Thank you for contributing so much to the fandom, for making all these incredible pieces of work for us all to read!

I’m wishing you all a happy Halloween in advance!

If you check out any of those incredible fics below, don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show your appreciation!

Enjoy!

From What I’ve Tasted of Desire by @evilovesyou

When Louis moves to the small Scottish town of Fortrose to spend some time with his father, he thinks he's come to terms with the fact that the next two years of his life will be rainy and dull. That changes when he meets the ever-elusive Harry Styles in his Biology class and he makes it his goal to find out the big secret surrounding him and his family. Louis unexpectedly finds himself in the eye of a storm of secrecy, age-old myths, friendship and romance.

Twilight AU / Vampires / Werewolves / Slow Burn / Highschool & College AU

eyes off you by @soldouthaz

“Just promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to keep us all safe while we’re in there,” Liam says.

Through the crack in the door, Louis can just barely make out the broad curve of Harry’s back, the slope of his curls as they tumble down all sleep-soft and lazy, and the sharp twist of his arm - all leading down to where he’s got his pointer and middle finger crossed over each other behind his back.

“I promise,” he tells Liam firmly, “I promise.”

or; a charlie’s angels inspired fic where louis is the brains, harry is the charm, liam is the muscle, and niall drives the getaway car - and zayn is there, too. sometimes.

Action / Pining / Assassins (kill bad people)

Walls by Travis_Crux

Following his line of sight, he frowned and shook his head, "What's wrong?"

"Wasn't your timer on your ring finger?" Liam asked, at that the Alpha immediately swapped the tumbler and looked down at his finger which sported a string of tiny blue flowers on the underside of his ring finger.

The two of them looked at one another.

"You could've touched nearly fifty people by the time you grew delirious," Liam advocated, always the voice of reason. "Comrades, nurses, doctors."

Sighing, he turned away and continued drinking the water. Literally, the only fucking thing remaining in the middle of a fucking war.

Harry has his soulmate timer stuck at zero from the beginning of time but suddenly the fates show mercy and a lovely forget-me-not takes the place of his timer. In between finding his soulmate in a war camp and solving the puzzle of the charismatic doctor who is treating him, all he can hope for is to live.

ABO / World War I / Soulmates / Angst / Hurt-Comfort

works like a charm by @falsegoodnight

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone.

One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts.

Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts.

Three: They do not get along.

So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

Harry Potter Setting / Porn With Plot / Enemies to Lovers

(quiet like a fight) fingers laced together by @letthemkissyou

It’s a thin hope, frail and as thin as the silver strands of a spider web, desperate in the way Louis keeps clinging onto it even when he’s already expecting and preparing for the worst. Maybe one day, he’ll have a home, a place where he can feel safe and sound, tucked away safely from the world that has the tendency to treat him horribly and then even worse, that maybe there will be someone in his life who cares for him, even if in the smallest of ways, and does not just use him for whatever they tend to need at the moment.

Or, the one where Harry is gifted a hybrid and it's a whole new world for the both of them.

Hybrid Louis / Past Abuse / Fluff / Angst

We’ll Cast Some Light (You’ll Be Alright) by fondleeds

There’s tense silence, the whole room completely hushed. The other teams on surrounding tables look between each other. Then, Louis pushes himself away from the table noisily, chair scraping. His face is angered and crumpled, red at the ears. The door slams behind him as he rushes out. The surrounding teams look at Harry simultaneously.

“God, Simon is going to kill us if we don’t die on this mission first,” Niall moans into his hands.

There’s a standard procedure for this. Scan, track, kill. But with a solar eclipse and a Greater Demon with unfinished business looming, the path to keeping England safe from harm becomes complicated and shadowed by mystery and secrets. For Harry and his team, times have never been harder, especially when a few old friends turned foes show up. Harry is left with just over forty days to overcome the hurdle of tension between them and reconcile their past, and figure out just what Louis is hiding from him before it’s too late.

Demons / Enemies to Lovers / Violence / Angst / Fluff / Demon Hunters / Smut

Three Days in February by @mercurial-madhouse

“We have to get out of here, outside,” Harry whispered, turning his hand in Louis’s grip to hold on and pull them both to their feet. “And how do we fucking do that?” Louis hissed, carefully rising and pulling Harry to his feet before Harry could do it. His gaze darted to the front then back of the arena. “None of the doors are where they’re supposed to be.” “What?” Harry looked around again too, couldn’t see any doors, only knew that they must be there, somewhere. “How do you know?” Confusion slid over Louis's features. “Because we’ve been here before, Haz. It’s the O2.” The show. It must be the first night of their tour. They were too late; they were out of time.

Louis is cursed after a night out with the lads and the five have just three days to figure out what happened and how to break it before Harry and Louis both lose their sanity and maybe something more. Louis can hear everything Harry thinks and Harry isn’t sure he can keep his feelings for Louis a secret from his own mind.

Ridiculous amounts of banter and angst, a lot of Harry and Louis alone together, a healthy dose of OT5 friendship, and one very magical weekend.

Friends to Lovers / Fluff / Angst / Action / Adventure / Magical Realism / Hurt-Comfort / Slow Burn

Soaked In The Blood Of Angels by @crazyupsetter

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

Explicit Sexual Content / Vampires / Incubus / Dubious Consent / Blood / Violence

The Compulsion to Find Love by Toomanytears

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

ABO / Omega Louis / Alpha Harry / Worldbuilding / Slow Burn / Fluff / Angst

Just a bit of work by missyoutoosweetscheeks

It was quite painfully pathetic, really. Twenty five, stable job, stable flat, stable mind (well, quite), a painfully non-existent love life with an even more painfully intact virginity.

Marcel didn't think his life was going to get better with his painfully aparent sociopathic tendencies to block anyone who showed interest in him.

Until, of course, he became Louis Tomlinson's next prey.

In which Marcel is a virgin, and becomes his office's amorous co-worker's next big conquest.

Top Harry / Bottom Louis / Office Sex / Dubious Consent / Porn Without Plot

Fuck U Betta by @jacaranda-bloom

There’s something about having Louis like this, exposed and desperate, that makes a primal urge bubble up from deep inside Harry’s chest. Desire mixed with something else, something unquantifiable. It’s the thing that makes them want this, need this. Nothing else will satisfy them or quench their thirst.

OR the one where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end.

Porn Without Plot / Light BDSM / Top Harry / Bottom Louis

push you out, pull you back in by @behisoneandonly

Harry grips his head in his hands helplessly, yanking the base of his dark curls and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the strands of his hair.

“Hey, hey,” says the petite stranger in front of him, quickly standing up. “Stop, you’re hurting yourself.”

–

Or Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.

College/University AU / medical student Harry / Fashion student Louis / Strangers to Lovers / Pining / fluff / slight angst / Hut-Comfort / Anger Management

might we be stardust stories by ryanreynolds

"It was easier being at war."

In which werewolves and vampires have been fighting each other for a century, and Harry and Louis' marriage is what's gonna bring peace to the realm. Hopefully.

Werewolves / Vampires / Arranged Marriage / Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Pining / Fantasy

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?” “Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?”

(Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

ABO / Fake-Pretend Relationship

until this blood runs cold by @soldouthaz

In a town as small as Louis’, everybody knows everybody and gossip spreads faster than the wildfires that rage on just outside their backdoors in the sweltering heat of summer. When something happens here everyone knows about it within seconds. Neighbors call neighbors and notes are left on doorsteps, old telephone lines ringing until there isn’t a single person who is left in the unknown.

So it’s definitely hot gossip when a vampire moves in across the street from him, the very same one who’s just become Louis’ boss.

Vampire Harry / Frottage / Blood Drinking

call you mine by @falsegoodnight

“I have a request.”

That’s what Louis Tomlinson says to Harry when he opens the front door a bit too aggressively. The latter feels justified after a round of annoyingly incessant knocking that was much too loud in the drowsy sludge of early Saturday morning.

“Zayn’s asleep,” is Harry’s tired, hoarse reply, irritation prickling at his skin. Less than a minute ago he was in bed, feeling perfectly content sprawled out on the mattress with the chilled air from the fan cool against his bare skin. And now he’s leaning up against the wooden door frame in nothing but his briefs because Zayn’s best mate decided that showing up unannounced at seven in the fucking morning was a brilliant idea.

“I’m not here for him,” says Louis curtly.

Or, Louis’ curious about how it feels to be bitten. Harry’s going to need more than just one bite.

Plot What Porn / Vampire Harry / Bottom Louis

your biggest fan by @soldouthaz

Just like everyone else, Louis has a few habits that he can’t seem to break. Guilty pleasures, rather. His nails are perpetually short because he can’t quit biting them, the bottom of his shoes scuffed from tapping his foot constantly. Sometimes his leg gets a cramp from bouncing it so often underneath his desk. That isn't too bad, he reckons, just some average teenage coping mechanisms.

And also, occasionally, minor instances of theft.

Top Harry / Bottom Louis / Porn What Plot / Nerd Louis / Jock Harry

give me love by @falsegoodnight & @soldouthaz

Despite being an omega, Louis’ always had a blatant dislike of alphas.

Or, Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.

ABO / Alpha Harry / Omega Louis / Bottom Louis / Past Relationship Trauma / Slow Burn / Angst / Fluff

The Stars Look Very Different Today by @kingsofeverything

For Harry Styles, child genius turned glorified spaceship mechanic, rescuing lost or broken down ships is a fairly common occurrence.

There’s nothing common about his latest mission, the ship, or that ship’s captain.

The last thing he expects to find in a distant galaxy is the one thing he’s been missing on Earth.

Space / Time-Travel / Science Fiction & Fantasy / Enemies to Lovers

The cat is out of the bag by 28sunflowers

Harry somehow gets himself stuck as a black cat on Halloween and needs help from Louis to change back into his human form.

The problem is: Louis doesn’t even know witches exist, much less that Harry is one. And there’s also the fact he thinks Harry is ghosting him after they had sex for the first time.

So the situations isn’t ideal. But it’s okay. Harry will figure something out.

Light angst / Witch Harry / Potions Accident / Fluff and Humour

#fic recs #october 2020 #larry stylinson

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ohwaitimthewriter · 4 years

Text

Ner naak (My peace)

Pairing : Din Djarin x earthling!reader

Warning : none

Summarize : Din Djarin meets you, an earthling, with no idea of the existence of an outer space.

Words : 1795

A/n : Hello there! So here it is, the chapter 4! I feel that this chapter is very slow, I mean, the timeframe. I don’t know how many chapters this series will have because I want to keep it like this, in a slow motion. I hope you don’t mind! Otherwise, enjoy your reading!

Masterlist. // Ner naak Masterlist.

"Welcome to my home!"

Din was observing your entrance from floor to ceiling. You could see him linger on certain features, such as the carpet under his feet or the vintage chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He seemed enthralled. Then he noticed a picture frame. Your family was there. You were there too, next to your father. He took it in his hand, looking carefully at the picture.

"This is my family." You said.

"Do they live here?" He was worried.

"No. My father died five years ago and my mother went to the mountains to get some fresh air. It's just me! "And your dog sniffed at you, jostling you slightly. "And Banjo, of course," you laughed.

He put the picture back in its place as you got rid of your jacket and shoes in a closet.

"Please make yourself at home, the bedroom is upstairs on the right and the bathroom's down the corridor, I'll make some food and..."

"You don't have to." He cut you off.

"Huh, aren't you hungry?" You asked.

"No, just for the little one." He said.

You were puzzled for a moment and suddenly you heard his stomach grumbling. You raised an eyebrow, with a slight smirk on your face.

" Your stomach said the opposite. Don't worry, I love to cook, so for two or three it makes no difference. "You said.

"No, I, huh, I can't." He said.

"You on a special diet? No problem, I can adapt, tell me..."

"That's not..." He sighed. "I can't take my helmet off."

" So, you're really stuck in there?" You teased.

"Sort of." He agreed.

It made you smile, but you understood. You invited him to venture further into your little house, offering to settle down in your living room.

"I'll prepare a tray for you." He was about to protest, but you stopped him in his tracks. "I'm going to bed early, I'm exhausted and then tomorrow I'll get up early to get all the pieces for your ship, you'll have the house all to yourself." You finished as you headed towards the kitchen.

Din felt like an idiot. An idiot because he was grateful to you for accepting his condition so easily. He didn't know how he could repay you, he had no idea, so he felt like an idiot for having to accept kindness from an earthling. Especially from an earthling, in fact. The rumors were so unfounded that they were becoming ridiculous around you. He wanted to return the favour, he wanted to thank you but not knowing how, drove him crazy.

And then you suddenly stuck your head out of the kitchen door.

"By the way, I knew I'd forgotten something... My name is y/n!"

He said nothing but nodded. You left to take care of the meal, but a few minutes later, when you didn't hear him say his name back, you put your head back in the doorway.

"I guess if I can't see your face, I can't know your name, but what can I call you?" You asked.

Your eyes literally burned with goodwill and it was the first time Din felt deeply touched by it. He laid the child comfortably on the sofa before he joined you in the kitchen.

"Mando." he said.

"Mando?" you asked back. "It's fine with me."

You were focused on the meal, a number of ingredients were spread out on the table and you seemed to know exactly which ingredients mixed perfectly with one another. Din watched you juggle with ease between the kitchen tools. It has been a very long time since he has seen someone cooking and watching you do it brought him back to the time when he was just a child. He had very little memory of the pre-war period, but he remembered the smell of a good homemade meal that was still steaming.

You took one look at him and seeing him follow your actions with such interest made you smile. You wondered if he would like to help you and as you were preparing a quiche, a simple meal, you held a knife to him, pointing the leeks at the end of the table.

"Would you mind cutting the leeks for me?" You said.

His helmet glinted with confusion. He looked at the knife, he looked at the green and white stems that you had shown then, he looked at you. Maybe you had misinterpreted his wish, but you were convinced that he wanted it. You could tell from the way he behaved. He had come closer to the table with one hand on the table and he had studied your every move carefully.

He stared at you and the knife and then decided to take it gently. You smiled kindly at him, rummaging through a cupboard and pulling out a cutting board which you put in front of him, then you grabbed the leeks and brought them closer to him.

"It's very simple," you began. "You cut here, at the edge of the green and the white part, then you cut the white part into small dice and you put them in there." You pointed to the colander.

He nodded slowly as if he was still trying to grasp what you were asking him and waited for you to lose interest in him before hesitantly giving his first cut.

Your dog had decided to join you and he sat at Mando's feet, watching him attentively. Din was so focused in his task that he had not even noticed him until he felt an insistent look on him. He looked down at the dog, who seemed to mock Din's caution with these pieces of leek, which definitely did not look like small dice.

"Stop looking at me." He said.

Your dog's tail began to wag gently against the ground, and he tilted his head to the side, listening carefully to what Mando intended to say to him.

"Go away." he added.

Din wasn't comfortable, but your dog had another idea in mind, and he moved even closer to Din, who slammed the knife against the table as he tried to move away from him. The jingling drew your attention and Mando turned to you, a question mark hanging on his helmet.

"I think he wants you to pet him." You said, with a smile on your face.

"To pet... him?"

"Yes, scratch his head, he'll leave you alone afterwards." You said.

Mando lowered his head back to your dog. Banjo was still staring at him intensely. He'd come closer again, sitting up straight at Mando's feet, and Din obviously didn't know how to do it. Mando looked at you again and you nodded to encourage him while you finished mixing the ingredients together.

Din was looking at the dog. It was a very strange thing for him. Certainly not the strangest he'd ever seen, but strange in the way it behaved. He seemed very affectionate towards you and the child, affectionate and playful. But Din had also seen the fangs in his mouth when the animal had only yawned.

He stared at the dog and slowly directed his hand to the top of his skull. Instinctively, he had tightened his fingers around the handle of the knife on the table as he hesitantly placed his gloved fingertips into Banjo's fur. He scratched it for a second before removing his hand and satisfied with the semblance of affection Mando had just given him, your dog went into the living room.

"I told you." You said, with a smile on your lips.

You took the pieces of leek that were actually more chopped than diced and added them to the preparation before putting them in the oven.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Mando apologized for the state of the leeks.

"No, thank you for preparing them." You said.

You leaned against the counter before you stared at Mando.

" Can I ask you a question?" You said.

Mando nodded. You were about to speak, but your mouth didn't seem to find the right question. In fact, you had so many that you didn't know where to start. How could you know where to start anyway? You were looking at someone from elsewhere. An elsewhere so vast, both frightening and magnificent. Mando was waiting for your question, but he could see you looking for the words you needed. He waited patiently for you to come out of your thoughts, but he noticed that you were lost in what you were supposed to ask him.

"Why the helmet?" He ventured out.

" Yeah, I think we'll start with that." You nodded quickly, relieved that he'd taken the lead.

And then you listened to what he had to say. He didn't really go into details, but you knew enough to understand why he couldn't take his helmet off and where he came from. And that was enough. At least for now.

"It must be incredible." You said.

Mando had sat in a chair during his story and you were checking if the quiche was cooked. Din didn't quite understand what you meant at first, so he kept quiet until you went on.

"I mean, to be able to travel in space. You know, everybody here dreams about it, but I don't think anybody's really ready for it. In fact, people aren't ready at all. They're so afraid of the unknown that they'd lose their minds just at the thought." You conclude.

" Still, you seem okay. " Mando noted.

"I don't count." you laughed.

"Why?"

You shrugged. Maybe it was because you never really felt at home. Maybe it was because you always felt like you were missing something, but you had never been able to put a finger on what it was.

"Maybe I'm already part of the unknown." You joked.

You finally get the quiche out of the oven. Its perfume spread quickly around the room and you noticed Mando taking a deep breath. He enjoyed the light smell of the food and his stomach growled a little more at the thought of taking a bite of this homemade pie.

"You don't sound like the rumors." Mando said.

"The rumors?" You asked as you cut several slices of quiche.

"About earthlings. There's a lot of stories about you." he said.

"How come the universe knows about us, but not us about you?"

Mando sighed. He knew why, and it saddened him that he had to tell you because you were far from what the rest of the galaxy was saying.

"Earthlings are considered pets, stupid, self-centered, haughty and highly judgmental." Mando said.

"At least that makes me feel better about one thing." You said.

"Which is?"

"Well, they're not so different from us after all."

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #mando #mando x reader #star wars #ner naak series

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

Text

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Seventy Three

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

November 30th, 2001

“You boys have a lot of explaining to do!” Grace snapped at Emile and Remy the second they walked in the apartment building.

“What? Why?” Emile asked. “Everything okay, Grace?”

“There was a woman screaming for the two of you all day on Thanksgiving,” Grace said with a scowl. “I couldn’t get a wink of sleep that morning.”

Remy paled but Emile just grabbed Remy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t realize that woman might come looking for us while we were out of town, but I should have.”

Remy was trembling as Grace muttered a dark, “Don’t let it happen again,” walking away.

“Should we file a restraining order?” Emile muttered to Remy.

“Maybe we should just move,” Remy mumbled back.

October 16th, 2002

Remy stared at the ceiling of the bedroom, eyes wide open and mind racing. Emile was curled into his side, sleeping soundly, but Remy couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. He glanced at the clock and watched the seconds tick by for a while, before turning to look at his boyfriend. Emile looked so at peace, and it made Remy a little jealous. He had a small nightmare about his mother and now he couldn’t get back to sleep.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Remy made his way out of the bed without waking up Emile, and padded out to the living room. He glanced outside the windows, just to make sure his mother wasn’t around, and let out a low breath. He was being ridiculous, of course his mother wouldn’t be here. She had gotten the message to leave him alone for the time being, and she hadn’t been back here since...the holidays, where Emile and Remy had been visiting Emile’s family anyway.

Remy moved away from the windows and to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. He felt wide awake, but he knew he needed at least a little sleep if he wanted to be functional at work later today...tomorrow? No, later today, it was past midnight.

Drinking the water down, Remy wandered over to the couch after putting the glass in the sink, and curled up on a corner of the couch, grabbing a book to read. The visibility wasn’t great, but there was just enough light through the windows that Remy could read the words on the page.

As he read, he could feel his nerves calming little by little, and the next thing he knew, he could hear snickering above him. He blinked blearily to find it was the early morning, and Emile was standing over him, staring at him with both amusement and bemusement warring on his face. “Comfy?” Emile asked.

Remy stretched and groaned. “Not really,” he said. “But I couldn’t sleep.”

Emile frowned. “What woke you up?”

“I dreamt about my mother again,” Remy sighed. “She had come back here, with Toby in tow, and the two of them were arguing that I should leave you and come ‘back home.’ And I know Toby would never do that in real life, because he cares about me too much, but the scary thing was that my mother could very well do that. And sure, we dodged her last holidays, but what about this year? We’re not heading to your family’s place, we agreed.”

Emile frowned. “I mean, if she shows up we can call the cops,” he said simply. “I know that’s not super comforting, but I’ve been planning to ask you something anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any.”

“Okay...?” Remy asked. A pit of dread was building in his stomach that he couldn’t explain.

“Would you want to move someplace bigger? With more space?” Emile asked. “Obviously, it wouldn’t be right away. But sometime soon. Would that help you sleep easier?”

“I...” Remy was embarrassed at his answer. “Yeah, probably...”

“No shame in that. We can look at townhouses in the area and see if anything jumps out at us,” Emile said with an easy shrug. “Maybe move after the new year.”

“And we wouldn’t have to pay rent anymore, just a mortgage,” Remy said with a small, wry smile.

“Pretty much!” Emile chirped. “Now, I think you need some coffee in your system, and I know you need a shower, so how about we start getting ready for the day and continue this talk when we don’t have to worry about me getting to classes and you getting to work?”

“Okay, okay,” Remy said, holding his hands up in surrender and heading to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. “One quick question, though: how much of the mortgage, in theory, would I be able to cover? Because I can cover half of the rent just fine, but a house is gonna be more expensive.”

“Honest answer?” Emile asked. “I don’t know. It’s gonna depend on the house we get, and the loans we get to get the house.”

Remy pulled a face. “Great. I don’t want you paying for the whole thing, Emile, that’s just not fair!”

“Relax, Rem. I could pay the mortgage and you could pay the bills, if that makes you feel a little more even,” Emile said. “But we’re in this together for the long haul. I don’t mind paying more of the mortgage than you, when it’s pretty clear we’re going to be staying together for a long time, if not, you know, the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, God, the rest of our lives,” Remy laughed. “That’s honestly a scary thought.”

“Why?” Emile asked. “I just assumed that was what we’d do?”

“No, no, it’s what I assume, too,” Remy rushed to assure. “I just...don’t really think about what that means too much, and when I do, it scares me. Not the thought of ‘tying myself down’ to one person, or whatever crap straight people say about getting married, but...the prospect of that not actually happening. What would happen if we didn’t stay together forever.”

“Well, if we both assume that we’re going to stay together, then there’s no worries,” Emile said. “Because I don’t want to leave you and you don’t want to leave me. So neither of us will be forced to leave.”

“I...guess so...” Remy said slowly.

“But if it’s a scary thought, I don’t want to force you to think about it,” Emile waved off. “And you still need to shower before your coffee is ready.”

Remy stuck his tongue out at Emile but went to take a shower. Internally, his mind was reeling, trying to put pieces of this puzzle together. Remy didn’t want to leave Emile, and Emile didn’t want to leave Remy. The fear of them not being together one day was unfounded, so why was he so scared?

As he stepped into the shower spray, Remy hummed and felt his muscles relax. It was a good question. Was it because that while they would stay together, it wasn’t technically permanent? They couldn’t get married, because no one would marry two men to each other. But you didn’t need the promise of marriage to love someone, right? Right. But...love wasn’t permanent, was it? Someone could say they loved someone and then turn around and dump them on the spot just because the spark wasn’t there anymore.

Emile and Remy had worked hard to make sure their sparks turned into a fireplace that kept going even when they couldn’t constantly tend to it, though, didn’t they? They had worked hard at their love. And yet Remy was still scared of losing Emile. Why?

Well...Toby and Remy loved each other as brothers. They had been inseparable for a long time. And now neither knew where the other one was. Remy had thought Vanessa had loved him, until she went off to college. And if he really wanted to go digging deep...Mom always said she loved him and then would turn around and act like he didn’t exist if he did something she didn’t like. Heaven forbid he break one of the rules, too. Then he’d get punished and have his mom say it was “for his own good” and that she loved him still. People in his life who said that they loved him no matter what were rarely telling the truth.

...That was depressing. But it also explained a lot. Remy nearly jumped out of the shower as soon as he was done, hollering, “Hey, Emile! I know where all my commitment issues stem from now!”

Emile opened the door to the bathroom just as Remy was wrapping a towel around his waist and Remy yipped. “Hey! No! Door closed!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Emile exclaimed, closing the door.

Remy walked out, dirty clothes in hand as he huffed. “There’s this great new thing called ‘knocking,’” he quipped.

“We’ve seen each other in less, I thought you wouldn’t mind,” Emile sighed, following Remy into the bedroom as Remy tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper and got new ones out. “Where do your commitment issues stem from?”

“Big shocker, you’re never gonna guess,” Remy said drily, facing away from Emile as he changed and said, “It’s my family. All of ‘em.”

“Wait. Even Toby?” Emile asked, and he sounded genuinely shocked.

“Well, Toby is a reason, but he’s not the reason,” Remy said. “He’s just...one nail in the coffin. But Vanessa said she loved me until she went off to college. Toby said he loved me and he’d never lose touch with me and then we did. And my mother said she loved me all the time and then turned around and treated me like something to be scraped off her shoe and discarded. I’ve never really had a steady sense of being loved in my life. So when someone says they love me forever, my brain says they don’t really mean forever, and I wait for them to drop me like everyone else always had.”

Emile stared at Remy in shock. “That is horrifying and insightful at the same time,” he said simply.

Remy shrugged and walked to the kitchen getting his morning coffee with a happy sigh. “Yeah. But I know the reason, so hopefully I can work past it now, you know?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Emile said. “That’s good. Tangentially related to that: would you ever want to get married to me?”

“If it was legal, yeah,” Remy said. “Sort of cements the idea that we would never leave each other into place. Why?”

“Because I might be low-key planning a wedding to invite all of your family to and promptly assassinate them,” Emile said simply.

Remy laughed. “I know you’re serious, Emile, but please don’t actually kill them? I don’t want to marry you only for you to spend life in prison.”

“Oh, all right, I’ll spare them for you,” Emile said simply. “But just say the word and they’re dead.”

Remy laughed more and Emile actually cracked a smile, which, considering their current topic of discussion, was surprising. “All seriousness, though,” Emile said. “You would marry me?”

“Emile, I’d propose to you if I knew there was a chance we could get married legally,” Remy said simply. “There’s no chance right now so I’m not planning on saving up for a ring, but that doesn’t mean I won’t in the future.”

“And that doesn’t scare you?” Emile asked.

“Hm? Oh, no, it terrifies me,” Remy said. “But I know the ‘why’ so we can work on it together. And once we have the chance to marry each other, I’ll have that existential crisis. For now, I’m just happy getting to be your boyfriend.”

Emile offered Remy a smile. “You know, when we first met I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be caught dead calling anyone your boyfriend, even if you said you were gay.”

“Well, I would have seen it as a safety issue, especially if that guy wasn’t out to everyone yet,” Remy said simply. “But I’m learning that here is safe. And that’s a good thing, you know? I won’t immediately die if I say I’m attracted to someone.”

“Always a plus,” Emile said. “So. We get a house, we hopefully get engaged and we get married when it’s legal, anything else we should plan for?”

“Should we plan for one of your sperm donor kids showing up at our door?” Remy asked.

Emile burst out laughing. “I don’t think so. The chances of anyone using that sample are so small that the chances of them existing, let alone existing in a bad home life seem infinitesimal.”

“Okay, so house, engagement, marriage. Maybe my own shop. Anything else?” Remy asked.

Emile shrugged. “Me kissing you within the next five minutes?”

Remy grinned. “Only if you’re willing to stand my coffee breath.”

Emile laughed and gave Remy a long, loving kiss. “Somehow, I don’t mind,” he murmured.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

Princess

// Part 2 • Part 3 //

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female OC

Chapter Summary: Steve asks his new friend to help his best friend Bucky deal through all the memories Hydra has left behind in his head. It's just that Bucky doesn't see how she's going to be able to do that...

Warnings: Ridiculous fluff and humor, that’s about it!

A/N: This is just a simple one-shot of an OC I'm currently working on. This is technically the first time I write anything for Marvel so we'll see how this goes. I just really had this little thing stuck in my head so I thought I might as well do something productive with it! It also features the other OC I'm writing for as well, paired with...well, you'll see ;)

The only real warnings here are a totally confused Bucky and a slightly annoyed Steve :)).

"I don't want to," Chloe Winters said plain and flatly when she heard the 'grand' idea her friends Steve and Seren had come up with.

Seren wasn't all that surprised by the answer, but she felt for Steve who was hoping more than anything that Chloe would be able to help them out.

"Chloe, please," he started again. "Bucky really needs your help. I need your help. He's my friend, my best friend-" he gave Chloe a pointed look, reminding her she was in the same situation with Seren, "-and he could really use some of that Chloe peacefulness."

Chloe decided to nitpick what she had heard. "That's what we're calling it? Chloe peacefulness? I know we can come up with a better name than that."

"Chloe," Seren scolded. This was no time to play games nor be sarcastic, two things Chloe loved doing.

"It's what you made me feel when I first met you," Steve reminded her. God knows he was a mess in his early days after waking up in the modern world. Seren had brought in her friend, Chloe Winters, promising him that Chloe had some special abilities that would help him ease his conflicted mind. Being from the 40s, he wasn't so sure that people actually had super powers besides the serum that he had taken. But then came along Chloe who politely told him that she could indeed open his mind. She had told him that a part of her powers helped people feel like they had talked about everything bothering them without her actually listening to those words. He would basically be able to feel like he was talking about everything bothering him, all his deepest secrets and thoughts, but Chloe wouldn't be able to actually hear them, much less see the memories. Though skeptic about it, Steve had consented to the idea and saw Chloe a few times per week to help him divulge those feelings. Each time they were done, he really did feel like a wave of peacefulness had washed over him. And when he felt confident enough, he was finally able to speak those secrets and deep thoughts out loud.

He really felt like it was what Bucky needed right now. After years, and years, of god knows what Hydra put him up to, he needed that peacefulness. He just had to convince Chloe that he was no longer a threat. "He won't hurt you," he had just began to say when Chloe cut him off.

"Oh, I know that," she surprised him with. "He's not that messed up anymore but the reason I say 'no' is not for me...it's for him." She was met with the same puzzled faces from Steve and Seren. "He did a lot of stuff that I'm sure he wants none of us to know about. What makes you think he'll be comfortable letting me into his mind? Not to mention be real close to another person?" Steve admitted that those were some very good questions she was making and unfortunately she wasn't done. "He hasn't had real, consenting human contact since he fell off that train. I don't want to partake in anything that can trigger him." Chloe reached for Steve's head with her index fingers and thumbs to remind him what exactly she was supposed to do to make that 'peacefulness' happen. "You think he'll be okay with this?"

"He's been around us for a few weeks now…" Steve said, but the manner in which he had reasoned sounded more like he was going through the facts to see if he was really making the right call here.

Yes, Bucky had been around him and Seren, Chloe and the rest of the team but if he was being honest, no there hadn't been a lot of mutual contact. He was taking things slow, understandably, but it seemed like he was stuck (also understandably). It was why Steve decided to talk to Chloe in the first place. He didn't want Bucky to be stuck in that way. He needed to heal, he had a right to.

"I think that if it's just you, he'll be fine," Steve said after a long moment of thinking. He met Chloe's doubtful eyes and firmly nodded. "You can help him like you helped me."

"Difference being your mind wasn't warped…"

"Chloe," went Seren again, sighing. "Be sensitive here."

"I am," Chloe assured her with a roll of her eyes that didn't leave Seren so convinced. "Steve, if you're that sure, I guess I can try."

Steve was truly grateful when he left Chloe to go find his best friend and tell him about his idea. Seren was...unsure how this would go, but she trusted Chloe enough to be serious when the moment called for it and this moment screamed for it.

"Scared?" Chloe shot her a smirk when she assumed what Seren was thinking.

"A bit…"

"It won't last long," Chloe said, sounding a bit too certain for Seren's liking.

"Why?"

"Because I give Bucky one week before he tells me to get lost," Chloe shrugged, her smirk turning into a laugh.

Once again, Seren sighed. "Chloe!"

~0~

She was a princess.

She was the typical woman he used to date back in the old days.

Perfect tresses of blonde curls, shiny emerald eyes, and she even had the damn rosy tinge on her cheeks. Typical. She was a sharp dresser, never once did he see her in something casual (in his short time knowing her of course). Personality wise...she was hardly serious, always making a remark about everything, and she had a smirk that rarely left her face. She was an expert at making the signature 'adorable' faces complete with the untouchable pout, and a general lack of attention - she was hardly the candidate to help him heal.

'What is Steve thinking?' was the question that kept running through Bucky's head. That was the problem - he probably wasn't thinking. For all Bucky knew, Steve could've been persuaded by the redhead with dimples to give Chloe a chance. He noticed that was a pattern between her and Steve - she showed those dimples and Steve would do whatever she wanted, and he didn't even notice it! But who was he to say something about that? Steve wasn't the one who murdered countless people, Steve hadn't destroyed so many lives...no, that was him. He had to believe that there was something Steve saw in Chloe that could help him because right now, Bucky saw nothing. But right now he had no right to do nor say anything so he would let things go and see where they went.

The first day had him waiting for Chloe in one of the training rooms of the compound. He was nervous, yes he really was, and even more so when she finally arrived. With a clearing of her throat, she approached him and started explaining what would be happening. Unknowingly, he gave the same reaction as Steve had when he first heard what Chloe could do.

"You can really do that?"

"Yup," she nodded. "But I'm warning you, I need to touch you." She put her own fingers to her temple to show him exactly what it would be like. "Is that alright?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" He asked a bit too quickly, proving her point from before.

"Because the last time somebody touched you, it was to electrify you," she smiled sarcastically, only realizing later on that this would be a moment in which Seren would scold her for being too insensitive. "You want to go for it?"

"Just like that?"

"I don't see any point in delaying it. Unless you're not...?" Chloe quickly raised her hands in front of her, sending the message that she wouldn't hold it against him if he decided not to do this.

"No, let's do it." Truthfully, Bucky still had his doubts with her but he supposed he really did lose anything if he gave this a try. He motioned Chloe to show him how to start.

With a nod, she led him towards the only chairs in the room. She grabbed one for herself and waited for Bucky to do the same. He sat down and waited for her to give him the next instructions. A part of Chloe wondered if this was just something he was so used to that he did it without realizing. She scooted her chair closer to his then raised her hands to show him she would be touching him.

It did, admittedly, make Bucky slightly nervous. Or perhaps he was on edge. His mind was that scrambled he wasn't sure which one it was. His eyes were locked on Chloe's reaching fingers. Even before they reached him, he could see the perfectly styled nails. They were painted in a bright purple.

He flinched when her fingers touched his temples. Chloe said nothing about it. She was watching him cautiously, searching for any sign that he would push her away. He didn't.

"Just relax," she instructed him and it was such a novelty hearing those words. There would be no shocks, no torture, just a supposed peacefulness.

He sniffed. "What's that smell?"

Chloe arched an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?"

"There's a smell like..."

"It's hair perfume. It's called Argan Oil of Morocco and I'd be glad to send it over since you said 'no' to the haircut."

Bucky leaned away from her on instinct. "Sorry, was that not to your liking?"

Chloe rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. "I don't care. What I care about is that you don't move anymore!"

With a light huff, Bucky resumed his position close to her. Once more she reached forwards and placed her fingers over his temples.

"I need you to lean closer," she said.

"More?"

"Yes! I told you this would be-"

"I don't need the lectures, just do it."

"Would it kill you to be a little nicer?" The look on Bucky's face told Chloe she had made a very poor choice of words. "Okay, that was my bad. Just...closer!"

Bucky didn't know how much closer they could get. Their legs were awkwardly around each other's in an attempt to give more room. The real answer came to him when Chloe pressed her forehead to his. She had closed her eyes; whether to avoid the awkwardness or because it was part of this insane process, he didn't know. What he did know was that whatever 'hair perfume' (whatever the hell that even was) she had on was really strong. It did smell nice, though.

"Focus," he flinched when Chloe spoke again. Things had gone dead silent around them that even when she had whispered to him, it was loud.

"On what?" He tried to whisper at the volume that their silence asked for.

"Whatever you want. You have the freedom now, you get to decide what you want to share." Chloe hoped that these words truly meant something for him. Freedom was something he hadn't had in a long, long time. "And remember, I won't actually hear nor see anything."

"Really?"

"I promise."

Though reluctant, Bucky agreed to try it. He would start with something small - if he could find something like that - just to test the waters. He closed his eyes and thought about something completely away from Hydra. It was a simple childhood memory that every child had: he'd fallen and gotten a scrape on his knee. "Did you see that?" He asked after a few minutes. He opened one eye to see Chloe smiling with her eyes still shut.

"No," she said like she had already explained it...and she had. "What was it?"

"Nothing," Bucky smiled for the first time when she made a noise of offence.

"Well fine, move onto the real stuff."

"Fine," he mimicked her tone and closed his eyes seconds before she opened hers to narrow them on him. The next time he really did focus on the things that were most prominent in his mind. He never realized how time passed by because each memory took a while. Chloe said nothing about the time; it was frankly the most silent she had been since he met her.

To his mighty surprise, when they finished he really did feel that peacefulness Steve promised would happen. It was the first time in a very long time that he could say he was relaxed. He wasn't sure how long it would last but he was just happy that it happened. He was happy. That was new.

"Thanks," he said quietly, his expression still deciding if he was actually feeling those nice, happy feelings he was promised.

Chloe got up from her chair and smiled proudly. "Don't sound too unsure." At her words, he looked up at her. "It's okay, you didn't think I could actually help. Most people think I'm an idiot when they first meet me."

"I didn't..."

"Yeah you did," Chloe said so plainly and resigned that it momentarily took away that peacefulness she had given him. "Last week you gave me that look that everyone always gives me when I make a first impression on them. I'm very bad at them and usually it all ends up in the same way. I fall under the stereotype of a 'pretty blonde' who has all the beauty but no brains, so...I've learned to live with it," she shrugged. "I just care what people think about me after they get to know me. Maybe you can do that later on."

Bucky watched her turn to leave. Dammit. His track record for messing up was already massive and now he had something new to add to it. Great.

Lucky for him, Chloe kept true to her word and continued to help him out. She was very punctual and very serious throughout each session. It was a stark difference from how she acted outside the sessions. It was rather amusing having to explain to Steve's dimpled-friend - he may have appropriated a few nicknames without their knoweldge - that Chloe was helping him and not making sarcastic remarks. Dimples couldn't believe it.

"You don't have to lie to me because she's my friend," Seren assured him just in case he was having trouble speaking the truth. "Chloe has the tendency to mess around at the wrong times."

"I'm not lying," Bucky assured her. "She's doing a lot for me."

And speaking of the good helper, she was coming into the room with Steve and Sam hot on her trail. Well, it looked more like Sam was right behind her and Steve was trying to break whatever was going on.

"I refuse to go to that place," Chloe said flatly before spinning to face Sam. "It's all dirty and, not to mention, it has horrible customer service."

"I just need you for 5 minutes," Sam was saying, sounding like he was begging. "Five minutes so you can distract the brother and I can talk to his sister."

"Guys..." Steve sighed, shutting his eyes.

"What the hell am I? Your wing-man?" Chloe arched an eyebrow at Sam.

"Actually, I believe it's wing woman-"

"Shut up," she commanded so easily and swiftly it sounded like she was in charge of the whole place. What was more amusing to Bucky was that everyone actually listened to her.

"What is going on?" Seren dreaded to ask the trio.

"Sam wants me to distract the brother of this girl he's been trying to talk to at that little restaurant he likes going to," Chloe folded her arms.

"I just need her little angel face for 5 minutes!" Sam exclaimed. "That's what the brother says about her anyways."

Chloe's face fell flat at the chosen 'compliment'. "What am I? A doll?"

"Yes! But, you know, in an endearing way?"

Chloe looked at Seren and Bucky with an incredulous expression on her face. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You're a wing-woman-" Sam tried to add but Chloe was done with him.

"Shut up!"

Steve shook his head at the two an decided to leave the pair's side. "Seren..."

"Guys," Seren clapped her hands to get the two's attention. "Seriously? Fighting over this?"

"She's my only hope," Sam argued like it was the best defense he had, the most logical one too. "She's the only one who can do it."

"No one else is willing to step up for the job?" Bucky had asked, surprising the others in the process. He didn't really partake in conversations and since he was doing it, no one would say anything about.

Sam started listing off his fingers to answer the question. "Natasha scares him, Wanda said a flatout 'no' and we all know Seren can't do it."

"Hey," Seren said with offence. "Why can't I?"

Sam said nothing but Bucky watched as he and Chloe's eyes flickered over to Steve. His best friend's face had suddenly gained a deep frown. The idea was not very well received apparently. Of course, Bucky inwardly rolled his eyes. Dimples. But she was none the wiser about it.

Sam saved Steve the torture by telling Seren, "You just can't."

Seren pouted. Bucky noted that, while still looking pretty, it wasn't the same like the one that Chloe sported.

"This is stupid," Chloe huffed. "I'm not doing it," she told Sam with a pointed look. He was to never ask that from her again.

"You are a bad friend," Sam frowned.

"I think I'm a good friend." Chloe happily corrected him and patted his cheek. "You can do better anyways - she's so rude." She started listing off the specific reasons why said rude girl wasn't the one for Sam. She would've gone on for longer had Seren not cut her off with the suggestion that she should put her time into better use by helping Bucky for the day. It definitely sounded a lot better than arguing with Sam.

The last thing Bucky and Chloe heard as they left the room together was Seren once again asking Sam why she hadn't been considered to help be this 'wing-woman' of his.

"Watch out, Steve might blow a fuse or something," Chloe laughed lightly.

Bucky laughed with her. "Yeah, Dimples got to him."

"Dimples?" Chloe sent him a bemused glance. "You gave Seren a nickname?"

"I technically gave everyone one in the beginning. My memory's not that good with names."

"Ah, so Seren is 'Dimples', what's Sam's?"

Bucky knew she specifically asked that first because of the tetchy relationship he had with the para-rescuer. "Nothing nice."

"Well I know that, but what is it?"

"...Silly-Putty-Sam."

Chloe came to an abrupt stop. "Hold on - what!?" She turned to him completely, expecting a full explanation for that chosen name. "Why on Earth is he called that?"

"Because I can and will squeeze him if he continues to annoy me," Bucky said with an all serious face.

"Aah," Chloe nodded, "That's clever. And a bit scary, not gonna lie. So...what's mine?"

"Huh?"

"Mine! What's my nickname? I really don't care if it's mean too. I've had my own nicknames for the others when they piss me off."

"I...haven't really thought of one." Bucky wasn't sure why he just lied. He most certainly had thought of one for her right from the start. She was an utter princess.

"Really?"

"Yeah..."

Lie!

"Aw," Chloe pouted. "Why?"

"Don't know..."

Stop lying! Bucky really wished he could stop lying but he didn't even know why he was lying in the first place. Was it about guilt? If it was about guilt, you wouldn't have given Sam his nickname.

Chloe left the topic alone once they reached their usual session room. It wasn't that big of a deal...to her. Bucky was still trying to figure out where the hell those lies came from and it certainly showed in his session with her. His thoughts were a bit more frazzled than normal. Chloe noticed it once or twice but she presumed it was just because the memories weren't that nice.

Still, as days continued to pass by, their sessions started to become a little less silent. They were still serious - how could they not be given the types of memories that crowded Bucky's mind? - but there was a different atmosphere around them, between them. Because Bucky still wouldn't give up his nickname to her, whether out of guilt or some other reason, he started to take more notice of her beyond the princess aspects.

She still had the necessity to make comments about everything, but some of them were actually funny. At the very least they were amusing and God knew that he could use some amusement in his life. The best part was that a lot of her comments were directed at Sam and she was good at them. She was incredibly intelligent and he dared to say it wasn't solely because of that Hive Mind she was a part of. No, she was smart all on her own. She gave Stark a run for his money sometimes.

And perhaps one of the things he was most aware of was how nice she smelled. It was ridiculous to pay attention to such a detail but it was just so prominent. Maybe it was because how close they always were during his sessions but the fact was that Chloe Winters smelled like a sweet flowers. Violets? Orchids? Lilies? All of them. She smelled like all of them. Couple that with that stupid Moroccan hair perfume of hers and...

Oh God he needed to stop. Each session gave him the chance to think up something new about her, whether it was how she dressed or a new quirk he found...he thought of it. It came to the point that his thoughts began to shift towards her instead of the usual Hydra things stuffed in his head.

"You're not focusing," Chloe's sudden comment startled him and she noticed. With a chuckle, she leaned away from him, revealing bemused eyes. Sparkly eyes, mind you. "Did I seriously just startle you?"

"Be quiet," was the first thing that came to Bucky's mind and, unfortunately, out loud. Chloe merely rolled her eyes in response. "I have a lot on my mind."

"Clearly," she muttered. "That's kinda why I'm here, genius. I'm supposed to help you sort those thoughts out."

"Somehow I don't think you'll be able to do that." Truer words had never been spoken.

"What?" She lifted an eyebrow at him. "Are you doubting my talents again? I can help, you know. Come here," she made a motion for him to assume the usual position. She scooted her chair closer to his and leaned her head towards him.

Bucky didn't move. He was actually wanting to lean back.

"C'mon!" Chloe exclaimed. "I'm not afraid to pull you!"

"Not like you could," he countered, immediately making a frown cross her face.

"What was that?" Ah, there went the eyebrow again.

"Nothing," he mumbled. He had to get a grip or something.

"Seriously, c'mon," she motioned him to lean forwards.

With a sigh, Bucky listened. He pressed his forehead against hers. He soon started wondering if he'd always been able to feel her breath against him? His thoughts were momentarily interrupted when Chloe's fingers touched his skin. Were they tracing his temples?

"Focus," Chloe instructed him.

"Right," he agreed, or rather tried to agree with her. Where did all of this come from!? He wasn't like this, not at all, not even before everything happened.

"You're not focusing."

Bucky opened his eyes to find Chloe's staring right at him. "I'm not?" He asked, unusually quiet.

"No," she said, just as quiet as he had. She was trying to figure out on her own what was wrong with him today. Sure there were things that would clearly affect his mood when these sessions happened but she felt like there was something extra today. It worried her, actually. Why wasn't she able to help this time? She could fail at a lot of things but not this. It was too important to get it wrong. "Hey, seriously, what's wrong? I want to help you."

"I don't think you can..." Bucky said slowly as if he was just realizing this, and maybe he was. Unfortunately with little context to those words, Chloe misunderstood him.

"Oh. You don't think I'm capable of doing it."

"No, that's not i-"

"I get it. Believe me, it's not the first time. I swear I'm capable of many things. Plus, I know a thing or two about having your mind invaded." Chloe offered him a warm smile. "I have so many things going on in my head, you might as well chalk me up as insane."

"You're not insane," Bucky shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted her to get from this awkward moment. "And you've been helping me a lot, trust me."

"I do," she said with a significant look in her eyes. It was hard knowing that most people couldn't trust him because he himself couldn't trust himself not to hurt someone. She knew that and she wanted him - needed him - to know that she wasn't part of 'most people'. Oh, need? That's weird. She cleared her throat, ignoring the light warmth on her face. "Listen, we don't have to do this today. We can pick up tomorrow. Sound good?"

"Yes," Bucky quickly said. Maybe by tomorrow he could get himself under control. Yes, yes, yes, he could. He could do that.

"Alright." Chloe pushed her chair away and got up. "Oh, maybe you can use this spare time to come up with a nickname for me! You know I've been waiting for one."

"Right," Bucky mumbled. He was terrible even at that because he couldn't give her another name. Princess had somehow, at some point, shifted from a superficial name to a more...endearing one. It was hard to admit it but it was the truth. "Dammit."

He really hated Steve right now. Out of everyone he had to have Chloe be the one to help him. He got the princess and now it seemed like she had him.

Author's Note:

Okay so I'm not sure if I should add a small part 2. I'll probably think about it. But thanks for the read!

#ocappreciation #mcu #dailyreblogs #marvel #marvel imagines #bucky barnes inagines #avengers imagines

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spirit-shroud · 3 years

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i replayed kz again tonight and managed to beat it in 4 hrs instead of 11 !!! which is rly cool imo, i think i got a max of like 50 deaths or less for the full run ??? i was just playing regularly but usin the prism blade for the cool blood effects, not in speedrun mode for the counter, and i managed 2 drag my friend into hyperfixation hell with me :} but also i have some thoughts and opinions im not rly sure how to compile in a meaningful way, so here’s the like. pure brain-down-on-blog post version under the cut. if this gets auto-tagged into the real actual tag for this game im very sorry for my hubris im just. thinking emoji

so id like to start this with the final boss makes me SO sad :( like yeah she doesnt have much dialogue but idk she just makes me so sad. she’s so desperate and she Knows shes going to lose and im just like. no!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you’re so cool!!!!!!! Please Be My Friend We Can Work Together. I Know A Guy :c like usually final bosses are like weirdly emotional for me but she was just SO COOL and realizing like WAIT THIS BOSS OPERATES UNDER THE SAME RULES I DO was just like WOW even if as i kept dying (and i think i spent like... 3 hrs on the final boss alone lmao the first time, i killed her on my third attempt this run which was very cool of me) i finally realized that she IS pretty repetitive and got all her patterns n variables down super easy, but like, fighting another null who Should for all intents and purposes be just as absurd and powerful as i am, and eventually being able to down her effortlessly, and then the withdrawal affects of the chronos kicking in as well, and its just like. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

dont even get me STARTED on that ‘to be continued’ like yeah there’s a dlc comin but the game mentions repeatedly that its just the first act which has me like OKAY. SPECULATION TIME (what am i speculating on? literally no idea im not even rly at the speculation phase im still in the WOW COOL VIDEO GAME phase)

and i rly like the dragon/fifteen but the first time i saw him i was just like. who’s this f*llmetal alchemist looking bitch ??? what’s he doin here?? go HOME and controlling him is AWFUL i hate the dragon tape so MUCH >:C but also he’s like. cool. i want to know more about him n his plot 2 take down Juncture n the government n whatever.

but also i was listen 2 Full Confession bc it’s just. what the heart wants rn. i need to be sad and caffeinated in order to get into the Writing Zone rn and then i was THINKIN like my friend mentioned while we were playing the dragon tape that the song that plays is very similar to Full Confession (which i had sent him earlier while i was losing my mind over the final boss) and then i was like. Hm. these are very similar but have such wildly different moods -- Breath of the Serpent is much more like. ‘you’re going to be afraid of me’ while Full Confession is like ‘i’m afraid of you’ and i think that the different Vibes from these two soundtrack bits about important Null characters is just like. WOW and i wonder how a version of it that was purely Zero’s might be. would it be more triumphant? more flat? what desperation or emptiness is in there that could be drawn out by this melody??? i dont KNOW and i can’t write music unfortunately but im just like AAAAAAAAAA

i also rly wanna know what snow has going on ??? like. shes clearly important. she is a vital npc. but Why. she didnt even rly do anything except Show Up???

fuck V. all my homies hate V. the motorcycle fight was a lot of fun tho i rly liked that section even if my therapist was mad at me afterwards

also i think elizabeth/the little girl is rly cute and the fact zero was just like. ‘hm. well guess i have a daughter now’ so fast w/ her (at least, with the dialogue trees me n my pal kept going down) and im just. So Hoping we can rescue her in the dlc :( i miss her so much and im so like. worried abt that like pls give me back my daughter you dumbasses i cant even read ur dialogue without my brain being like ‘yeah these r just squiggly lines, boss. gl’

i also want to believe that the masked men arent real (bc idk, it’s just easier for me to process that they’re the result of chronos withdrawal) but the problem w/ that is like. they definitely kidnapped elizabeth, and i want so desperately to believe that elizabeth IS real n that zero genuinely wants to protect her (and by extension, the part of himself that is still human)

ALSO THE PSYCHIATRIST i was just like. Okay. I Must Get A Good Grade In Therapy. n kept being nice n cooperative and helpful to this clown ass and then THAT ENDING ??? like i didnt even get the Bad Therapist Ending i was just like. fucka you! attacka you with a rock! (i do however want to try the therapist boss it sounds like a lot of fun) but i just. i hate him! he sucks! find a better therapist zero u rly need one im sorry for ur problems disorder :( like hes clearly a guy who just works for the government n wants 2 keep a leash on our man

n the contradictions, hes like. yeah ur killing everyone related to chronos so it can no longer be produced ♥ but dw ur special we totally wont just withhold chronos from you as soon as u finish ur tasks dw about it ♥ and its like. Hm. I Dont Think Thats Right !!!!

also i wanna learn more about what Juncture has going on??? what are they like. Doing besides poisoning water n making lighters ?????? it’s clearly a lot

also the art for this game is just so GOOD,,, like. i didnt rly notice a lot of the backgrounds my first playthrough bc i was just losing my mind the whole time trying to solve each puzzle but the second playthrough im just like. AAAAA. and the soundtrack? effervescent. groundbreaking. perfect. So Good

and the GAMEPLAY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh my GOD i was SO vibing with it, the difficulty curve was kinda extreme imo but as soon as i started like. Getting It? and started looking at each room less like combat/fighting and more like a puzzle that needed to be solved it made it so much easier 2 get into the headphase of ‘okay how do i clear this’ and it was just like. YOOOOOOOO

and zero is just a lot of fun 2 play as. legitimately everything about him is just so ridiculous. his dialogue options? ridiculous. his design? absurd. the implications that hes like. 22 and just having the worst 10 days of his life? mood, buddy. this guy likes samurai movies and card games and mushroom pizza and has worn the same outfit every single day for who knows how long and hes also a war veteran, an emotionless serial killer and a drug addict. and hes 22 and 5′10. literally NOTHING about those traits make sense together but here he is, just Vibing.

i love him so much. im going to make a self insert oc that’s just giving him a friend who knows how to cook n is just like ‘oh wow, that’s rough buddy’ when hes like ‘i only feel alive when i kill people’ and conveniently knows how 2 get bloodstains out of things bc i think he needs that kind of person in his life since his like. therapist is conspiring against him n he keeps having 2 kill his friends

also, unfortunately, i want to get every achievement, which i feel like is going to become hld....2!! where i get all but 1 of them and am stuck at 96% for 2+ years >:T

#kc chirps #hello gamers i am vibrating! very vibrating. losing my marbles at this 420am on a thursday

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losingmyjustice · 4 years

Text

@nurotoxin sent;

scraTCH THAT [ everything ( minus appeal ) ] + glados

Thoughts & Feelings

Send [ word ] + a character name for my muse to talk about that character.

"Unfortunate that I ended up running into her." beat. "Or rather, that she ended up approaching me. Because, clearly, the first thing you think of when seeing a stranger sitting alone trying to get some peace and quiet is how great of a test subject they'd be. Absolutely normal."

"Also, I'm quite annoyed by how persistent she is — clearly there are more cooperative people she can irritate with her tests, yet she still sees it necessary to bother me despite how I've opposed to it since the get-go."

"Frankly, I don't get it, how she can loathe me to bits yet still be the one initiating an interaction. Sounds rather self-sabotaging, if you ask me. I'd think both of us would profit from it if we'd avoid each other."

Send [ oops ] + a character name for my muse to blurt something about that character.

"If you think about it," he spoke, while not thinking much about it, let alone how offensive it might be. "to claim she's taller than me is ridiculous."

"Her, er, vessel had been assigned by the Stars upon her arrival, right? It's not ... bound with her, so to say. Meaning, should one put her into a tinier vessel similar to the ones you find in Craft-Punk, then she'd have a new, much smaller height than she initially did, while still being the same person. Therefore, her vessel being taller could be compared to someone wearing high heels, no? It's not her, physically, being taller." he’s just salty.

"— Should she argue about this, then just put her in a 2ft tall vessel and see if she still believes it's fair to judge height per the vessel she's in. I bet she'd hate that."

Send [ think ] + a character name to know my muse’s thoughts on that character.

You squint as she took her leave. Despite having her back turned, you're rather certain she's aware of the stare piercing her, though really it'd only be all the better if she is.

All she had said is for you to wait with no further explanation. Likely bringing something, you reckon. You did scoff that you'd leave immediately just to spite her, but both of you know that it won't come to such — it's difficult to find a quiet spot as is with all these celebrations, and you genuinely don't have the energy to bother today. So here you are, grumbling; What the hell is her problem?

If you'd only go by the 'tests' she offers, you'd think of her as a joke. You still do, but — aside from amusement, what's there for her to accomplish? Granted, she does gain some info here and there about Spirale, but apart from that? If that's it, she sure picked quite the horribly inconvenient way to approach the matter. Someone who'd seek actual results wouldn't do that. What's worse; that isn't it. If it'd be just a puzzle enthusiastic scientist wanna-be would be one thing, but only a glance on her attitude and you'd argue her to be worse than the imbecile Dimitri, for obvious reasons. So why? Is she studying people and their way of thinking solely to understand them? That'd barely make sense, considering how she gives no damn about humans to be this interested. Hell, you'd not be surprised if she'd replace her test subjects with these stupid turrets if she could, considering how she reacted when you tossed it the other day. So, what is it then? You can't fathom a potential goal she might be seeking that isn't ridiculously outlandish.

... Maybe she doesn't have a goal, you think. Perhaps she truly is driven by the concept of 'doing science' alone, like she had been programmed to do — and that's all she does, despite the fact that she isn't even where the task was given to her. Gathering information just for the sake of gathering information, with no slight interest on who it aids, or who it expenses. A pointless routine, pretty much. "Despicable," you find yourself muttering, seeing her return again from a distance. You can't imagine anyone living content and happy without having an aim they're striving for in life.

You'd know.

Send [ heart ] + a character name to know my muse’s true feelings for that character.

As much as I'd love to say he's holding a front or whatever, unfortunately, beneath the disrespect is just the same thing but bass-boosted. True, he did act on prejudices at first, but his assumptions had been more than confirmed to him by now, so really he'd call it horseshit if you were to speak to him about how he's got to be open-minded and etc.

However!! While he does have more respects for a snail than for GLaDOS, it might come to a surprise to you when I say he finds her much more tolerable than Dimitri! So hey, at least she got that going for her! Even if he'd never admit that. There are several reasons that go into this — for instance, the fact that she isn't love-struck & her actions (cough, life) not entirely centered around such do make talking to her less annoying. You could claim that she's love-stuck by science, I guess, but she doesnt whine about it. GLaDOS is also far less gullible, much more observant; while it was fortunate for Clive that Dimitri wasn't alike to her in that aspect, conversing with a fool that has only one thing in mind is hardly interesting, and at some point forward even the thrill of deceiving them was gone, more alike to a ludicrously boring routine. It hurts me to insult Allen like this but, yeah — speaking to someone who's less naive is, ultimately, less tedious.

Also uh, this is sad to say but, yknow, Clive keeping up an act around Dimitri at all times was draining — smiling while wanting to strangle someone is!! not a fun thing. Neither is acting like you're a fan of a work that had your parents killed. But, with GLaDOS, he doesn't have to pretend shit. To put it bluntly, it's a relief he can be the asshole he wants to be without repressing it. And, relief makes stuff more tolerable! For him.

There's definitely the comfort of 'im having a bad day and im about to make that everyones problem' that he was unable to do all these years but, hey, you didn't hear that from me.

Regarding testing, they're not always horribly annoying to him unlike he'd claim — especially the ones you could (almost) compare to puzzles; they do catch his interest, and there's always the satisfaction you get when you got it right. However, he'll always be awfully reluctant to do the tests despite how intriguing they might be, and should he end up doing it anyway — never express that delight. Maybe a smirk might slip, but should she point that out he'd make sure in one way or another for her to take that back, or reason said smirk to be something insulting against her — yknow, the usual. Clive wants to be as inconvenient as possible as a 'test subject', and, is doing a good job at that. While yeah, the tests can low-key be temporarily nice, you won't find him miss these should she finally leave him alone. There are a lot of things he's missing, but GLaDOS and her Tests will never be on the list, really.

Send [ body ] + a character name to know my muse’s body language around that character.

So, uh. we both know he's emotionally unstable, right. Talking about his Body Language when he's acting like that is,, difficult, since it depends highly on his mood swings and I'm not about to count them all,, we'll be here forever if I do that. All I can say is that he's surely tense & sensitive whilst it.

However!! I'll ramble a bit about his usual demeanour w/ GLaDOS when things are "fine", whatever that means when talking about Clive

If he's just 'kinda there', as in low-spirited yet still well enough to talk shit (which is the 'usual' in their interactions IG) you can absolutely expect him to intentionally sit 'wrong' yet comfortably — just, y'know, to express disdain even further. Usually, it'd mean he's rather comfortable around you, but in this case, it's frankly just a lack of care of what GLaDOS thinks of him. She already knows he's got issues smh why bother giving a good impression,, Guard isn't really up either, slacking far too much to be so — just this state of "meh." where he very well can complain about the situation at hand without leaving despite it. Uhh, what else — ah and he got his hat off, likely just cast aside somewhere. shrugs

If Clive is ACTUALLY spacing out, be it to the extent where he trails off and loses his line of thoughts like all 30 seconds, or even as far to where he doesn't respond at all — if he's standing, sitting, henceforth, one thing for sure his posture would be slumped, although seeing how it's usually a thing that happens gradually, he'd stop sitting so improper (aside from the slumped posture, of course) so there's that, at least. Guard is obviously thrown out of the roof in such things. Whilst sitting there's also this habit where he'd tip with his fingers on the palm of the other hand (imagine like playing on a piano) or instead have a fist resting in it (as if you're counting for rock paper scissors) while he's spacing out— I can imagine GLaDOS would have already picked up on that to tell when he's getting lost in thought again.

Obviously, he got better days than that, where he'd care to keep up the manners you'd expect from him — but rest assured if he has the energy to act normal, he'll also have the energy to leave should GLaDOS show up. So, the next best thing is where he's irked, which. Well, that's not all too fun either, but. He'd sit upright, arms crossed, perchance even legs crossed, rather tense, you get the idea—much less cooperative too, but what else is new.

#it’s friday and the house is burning [memes]#nothing left to say [ask reply]#nurotoxin #// hands u an essay

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rorykillmore · 4 years

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it’s @spearitsandmonsters‘ birthday today!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPEAR. as a gift, they requested an au fic for a dynamic we’ve been developing quite a bit lately, which we’ve affectionately dubbed villabeth. i picked “baby assassin villanelle breaks elizabeth out of her tower instead of booker”, which is an idea we’ve only loosely talked about, but something about it STUCK with me. so i hope i did it justice and i hope you enjoy, spear!!

and here’s wishing you a wonderful birthday <3 i know basically everything is difficult right now and while it goes without saying that i wish that wasn’t the case... i know that one of the things that helps me get through it and remember the good parts is talking to you and writing with you and having you for a friend. so i hope i can provide that same support and escape for you. if nothing else, knowing you for another year is absolutely worth celebrating in my book!!!

Oksana had expected someone pampered and spoiled, who might have turned up her nose or screamed at someone as rogueish-looking as her. Instead, Elizabeth is acting like she’s never spoken to another human being before in her life, and looking at her as if Oksana has suddenly become the center of her universe.

It’s a ridiculous thought, but it spurs another excited little flutter in her chest.

She doesn’t ask what her employers want with the city in the sky, or why it’s so important to them that Comstock’s heir doesn’t live long enough to succeed him. This had been one of the first in the long list of rules Dasha had taught her: never make your employers think you are interested in their plans or motives. Makes them nervous.

It’s Oksana’s first official job on her own, too, so she’s not about to fuck things up the second the Twelve have actually stopped breathing down her neck for five minutes.

A part of her wonders, though, if they’ve changed her minds about wanting her. Because for a first official assignment, the risk involved almost makes her think that her employers are trying to get rid of her.

She’s good, of course -- good enough to sneak through Columbia and up into Monument Tower without incident, but it had been far from easy. And now that she’s in, she feels like she’s breaching the site of a nuclear meltdown, or the cage of a bloodthirsty monster. When they had told her that the city’s heir needed to die, Oksana had assumed she would have to snatch her away from a life of luxury. She had allowed herself to begin to resent the other girl without even having met her, entertaining the image of some wealthy, ultra-religious, spoiled little brat who’d enjoyed so many things Oksana had never been allowed to even touch, had dreamt about stealing into some preposterously frilly and extravagant bedroom and smothering her with a pillow in the dead of night.

But this?

This is like a prison, or a laboratory, or something worse than both. Oksana fights to keep her hackles from raising as she stealths her way towards the last heavy steel door. What sort of person have they sent her to deal with?

She draws from her bag the replica key that one of the Twelve’s Columbia contacts had provided, and hesitates, weighing her options. She’d have liked to find a less direct method of entry, but her employers have cautioned her from making too much noise or disruption, lest she alert the tower’s unique security system.

So she’s going in through the heavy, reinforced door that looks virtually impossible to open subtly. Practically blind.

She doesn’t like that.

Oksana reloads her weapon. Whatever her mark might be capable of, whatever the reason she’s been locked up so tightly, it’s nothing that a quick shot to the head won’t take care of, surely. With her free hand, she inserts the key, which seems to trigger several other mechanisms within the door to whir and unlock, and then - carefully - she steps inside.

If it is a prison cell, it is the most impressive one she has ever seen. Oksana is standing in the doorway of something resembling a well-furbished library, like the kind you’d find in old castles or government buildings. It seems empty, so Oksana supposes that her target could be in one of the other rooms. Maybe the noise from the door opening will draw her out. Hopefully. Oksana does not fancy a game of hide and seek in unfamiliar territory.

Despite her mission, though, and despite the dedication and focus she is supposed to feel, curiosity tugs at the corners of her thoughts. She is not supposed to ask questions, and yet the pieces of a puzzle are set before her, and when she tries to put them together they do not quite make sense. Why keep the Lamb of Columbia here? Why go to all this trouble? What was with all the charts and laboratory equipment Oksana had passed on her way in, and why did they make her sound like some kind of monster in need of containment?

If she’s such a monster, why do they need her?

Perhaps it’s a terribly ironic question for Oksana to be asking. But she is an assassin, a perfectly crafted weapon, and that’s one thing.

She ventures a little further into the room, her pistol lowered but still held firmly in front of her. It’s only when she passes the staircase that she realizes something is wrong. A shadow moves out of the corner of her eye, and Oksana turns before she can process anything else, instinctual and immediate the way her mentors have always praised her for as she closes her hand around the girl’s wrist.

The girl cries out, and tries to jerk away from her grip. Once. Twice -- Oksana lets go the second time, so that she stumbles backwards and falls back against the bannister of the staircase she’d just hidden herself behind. Oksana is on her again in a second, pinning her easily and letting the barrel of the pistol dig into her ribs, her free hand now clamped over the girl’s mouth to keep her from screaming.

“Shh,” Oksana tells her, and she should end it right then.

Except --

The ‘monster’ has a much prettier face than Oksana had anticipated. Her eyes are a shade of blue Oksana can’t remember ever seeing for in her life, a little brighter and clearer than even Columbia’s skies, and presently blazing with rage or fear or probably both. She might be the around the same age as Oksana, or just a year or two younger, she has lovely dark hair that’s now just a little disheveled by their brief struggle, and she seems to be trying to bite the hand Oksana is holding against her mouth. Oksana feels her lips twitch briefly, despite herself.

“Shh,” she tells the other girl again. “Do not scream.”

Satisfying her growing curiosity is a bad idea. It will complicate things unnecessarily. Oksana knows Dasha would tell her to get the job done and then get out, but...

The questions do not count if nobody ever finds out she asks them, right?

“I did not come here to hurt you. You just startled me.” Oksana continues, softening her voice. It’s a lie, of course, but she takes a little bit of pride in how earnest she makes it sound. “If I take my hand away, you promise you won’t scream?”

The girl’s pretty eyes bore into hers, but they look less angry now, less scared, more... disbelieving? As if she isn’t quite convinced Oksana is real.

“Please?” Oksana tries, all but batting her eyelashes, and finally the girl nods. Oksana supposes she will just have to trust her. She lowers her hand and steps back, putting about a meter or so between them both, close enough that she can still move in if --

“How did you get in here?” the girl asks breathlessly.

Oksana blinks at the question. Then nods to the way she came in. “Through the door?”

She would find it funny, the way the girl gapes at her suspiciously in response, if she wasn’t also so confused. “You can’t just come in through the door, there’s no way -- no one ever --”

“They put a door there, then told you you can’t use it?” Oksana widens her eyes deliberately. “Wow. Really cheap con.”

“It’s not exactly like I have a key on hand.” The girl crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes, though she also doesn’t take them off Oksana for a second. “Who are you?”

Oksana opens her mouth to answer -- then remembers herself midway.

“Villanelle. My name is Villanelle.” A name new enough that it doesn’t quite feel like hers yet, but it will. Oksana already likes the way it rolls off her tongue. “What is your name?”

“I’m Elizabeth,” Elizabeth tells her breathlessly, a bit too trusting for someone talking to a stranger who’s just broken into her home. And for someone locked up like a high-security prisoner. The longer Oksana talks to her, the more bemused she becomes. Elizabeth seems so... normal. “You -- you’re so --”

Oksana is not sure what she was going to say, but all speculation flies out of her head when Elizabeth seems to lose all impulse control and places her hands on either side of Oksana’s face. “-- Real.”

As a rule, Oksana does not like people touching her face. Bad memories, and all -- from more than just one source. But this touch is gentle (and confusing) enough to give her pause, to cause a strange flutter in her chest at the softness of it.

She should be wary, perhaps. Anna had once touched her this way, and Anna... had not been what Oksana expected. Elizabeth is not what Oksana had expected either, but in a different way. Oksana had expected someone pampered and spoiled, who might have turned up her nose or screamed at someone as rogueish-looking as her. Instead, Elizabeth is acting like she’s never spoken to another human being before in her life, and looking at her as if Oksana has suddenly become the center of her universe.

It’s a ridiculous thought, but it spurs another excited little flutter in her chest. “Yeah?” she answers belatedly, uselessly, to break the silence.

As if she’s suddenly become aware that she’s violated some social norm, Elizabeth drops her hands and steps back, slightly abashed but no less curious. “Where do you come from? You sound like you’re from far away. Your name -- it’s French, isn’t it?”

“Latin, technically,” Oksana says, composing herself and quirking an eyebrow. “Like the poem? You must have time to read a lot of poetry.”

“You have no idea.” Furtively, longingly, Elizabeth glances towards the door like she’s readying herself to bolt. Then her gaze snaps back to Oksana, like no matter how taken she may or may not be by the appearance of a pretty stranger in her tower, she’s abruptly remembered that it’s a good idea to be at least a little suspicious. Her eyes drop to the pistol in Oksana’s left hand. “Why are you here?”

This is it, Oksana thinks. The moment where she shrugs as casually as anything in the world, answers ‘to kill you’, and finishes the job point blank. But she doesn’t move. The hand on the pistol doesn’t even twitch.

“Uh,” she answers instead, grasping idly for something that makes sense. “To rescue you?”

Wouldn’t that be hilarious. If Oksana decided suddenly that she would whisk this girl away with her, and then they’d spend the rest of their probably-short lives dodging not only Columbia’s forces, but the Twelve’s if they ever made it out. Oksana knows - has been warned over and over again - what the Twelve do to traitors.

Elizabeth seems speechless beyond words, so Oksana adds quickly, “Why do they keep you locked up in here, anyway? Did you do something bad?”

Elizabeth opens her mouth uncertainly. Then closes it again. Then laughs. “You mean someone sent you here to rescue me and they didn’t tell you that?”

“I didn’t say anyone sent me,” Oksana corrects her. “I decided to.”

Has she really? She watches Elizabeth closely, as though Elizabeth is the one who can answer that for her. “The security measures outside this room -- you would think they had locked up a mass murderer, or a radioactive mutant, or something,” she adds, a humorous way of prodding for answers while she thinks.

“I guess --” Hesitation laces Elizabeth’s tone as she answers. “I guess it’s because of what I can do.”

What can you do? Is the obvious question. But the one Oksana asks instead is: “People think you are dangerous?”

Elizabeth shrugs minutely, the look in her eyes unreadable.

And Oksana feels something in her soften a fraction. “I was locked up once.” Albeit in not nearly as spacious a cell as this. “People think I’m dangerous too.”

The seconds pass as Elizabeth watches her, until Oksana almost itches under her searching gaze.

“Will you leave with me?” Elizabeth asks finally.

Oksana gives her a rueful smile. “Where do you want to go?”

This had not been the plan. Can she risk what she’s made for herself for the sake of her own curiosity? For a pretty face?

Elizabeth exhales quietly, shakily, like she still can’t believe she isn’t dreaming. “I’ve always wanted to see Paris.”

How about for someone who’s a little like she is? Who, in only the span of a few moments of knowing one another, has made Oksana feel a little less alone?

“I have been to Paris many times.” Oksana steps forward, closing most of the distance between them, her gaze intense. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Soft,” she remembers Dasha spitting at her, “You are too soft for them, still. You need to work harder, try harder, show them how lethal you are.”

Oksana grins a faint sharp grin. Dasha would never have the guts - or perhaps the reckless stupidity - to do what she is about to do. She reaches out and touches Elizabeth’s hair, tempted to pull it out of his ribbon. Instead, she simply twirls a lock of it around her finger. Despite the unchecked contact Elizabeth initiated only moments ago, she freezes under Oksana’s touch, and Oksana’s grin softens into an ever-so-slightly smug smile. “Once we leave, you know... you would not be able to come back.”

She waits to see what Elizabeth will do, but Elizabeth doesn’t flinch or pull away or even waver. Her eyes locked with Oksana’s, she just breathes, “Why would I want to?”

“You haven’t seen the world outside yet.” Oksana takes another step. It’s another challenge, but Elizabeth does not back away, and now they’re so close that they practically breathe the same air. “You might find you would prefer your cage.”

“Did you?” Elizabeth challenges her, and Oksana laughs breathily. It’s a good response. She thinks maybe she will enjoy this, no matter the consequences in the end.

“Okay,” she says suddenly, and pulls away. Elizabeth’s expression dims slightly -- maybe with uncertainty, or even disappointment. Oksana wonders for a moment if Elizabeth had expected her to kiss her. Would she have been Elizabeth’s first kiss?

She somehow likes the idea of that, but... perhaps not here. So she offers her hand instead. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Elizabeth’s hand is soft in her own as she takes it, but there’s something about the recklessness of her smile that makes Oksana wonder if it’s the rest of the world that needs a warning.

#i wrote this operating under the assumption of #'elizabeth wouldnt be as immediately hostile towards a pretty girl as she was towards booker'#i hope i was correct.#also villanelle is a useless bisexual but what else is new #guess how many times i almost typed 'villanelle' instead of oksana. it was a lot.#anyway HAPPY BIRTH!!!!#i figured i might as WELL post this early since i had it done #and i figured you might be busyish tomorrow #fic

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monicalorandavis · 4 years

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MTV’s ‘The Challenge’ is still quite good

If you are a person in your early 30′s (like me) who grew up watching Carson Daly’s TRL and got AIM around your 11th birthday, you know ‘The Challenge’. You also know that Freddie Prinze Jr and Sarah Michelle Gellar are Hollywood’s stealthiest romantic success so please keep your voice down when you whisper their sweet names (they deserve our support).

You might remember ‘The Challenge’ of yore, way back when it used to be called ‘The Real World Road Rules Challenge’. Oh how Veronica would yell at anyone! We had fun. And guess what? It’s still a good time. Even Veronica herself still pops up from time to time. She’s much older and out of shape but that’s the thing with aging reality stars, they’re just like us. Let the record state, I love my veteran players. But V just didn’t make the cut this season. It was a Veronica (and Shane!!!) free season. And you’re wondering if that left space for the realest ‘Challenge’ competitior of all time, the one, the only...Chris Tamburello aka CT aka dad-bod CT aka the highlight of the whole season. This season, though it didn’t look like it was going to, belonged to Chris Tamburello. But we’ll get there later. For now, let me sing the praises of this season’s ‘Challenge’ and drop some serious *spoilers*. Proceed with caution if the finale means anything to you.

First, a teensy bit of backstory. ‘The Challenge’ is in a very interesting global iteration that has really livened up the brand. Not like it needed livening up. I eat this shit up with a spoon. But, perhaps for the sake of international brand partnerships, it’s broadened its appeal and recruited some UK talent. Fine MTV, you might know a thing or two about business...

At any rate, it’s successfully brought in international reality stars and the show has been on an uphill climb ever since. For those of us British reality aficionado’s this has been a major win. While you’ll still gladly root on your longtime faves (Johnny Bananas, Wes, Jordan and yes, CT), you might be glad to see Theo from Love Island and Georgia from TOWIE fame. There are other international folks on the show who have no significance to me. But they make for interesting television (sometimes). For instance, Rogan’s slimy ass swindled his beefy thighs into a ‘Challenge’ final through sex appeal (and pathological lies) alone! You might argue that that sounds base and stupid and you’d be correct, sir. But what are you, the Queen of England? Why are you reading this blog?? Don’t you have a whole country to serve and more hats to buy??? Get out of here! Leave us commoners with our feeble minds (and bank accounts) alone!

I think the British contestants inspired a little British tangent there but the show does benefit from having the Brits on board. The set-up for the season was US v. England and it was not as tidy of a us versus them as you’d think. The man of the hour, CT himself got shafted and stuck on the British team from the beginning. It seemed like his weight gain and poor attitude had officially relegated him to a stud of the past. He was “dead weight” and Jordan and Paulie made the cutthroat (of many) decision to pass him over for eternal hothead, Turbo. Yes, his name is Turbo. He’s from Turkey and he’s hot. Deal with it.

That first decision by the US team to eschew loyalties and “trim the fat” set the tone for the shadiest season of all time. But the US had too many leaders and would corrode quickly. In the first episodes of the season, big time favorites Wes and Johnny Bananas got the boot. Cara and Paulie made for a weird Slytherin bid at alliance leadership and, unfortunately for everyone at home, succeeded in building the strongest team that crossed over party lines. They had swindled Rogan and his hair-brained buddy, Joss, into working for them and cutting the strongest players from the Brits’ team. All of that is well and good but it’s not actually the most interesting part of the game. The interesting part is the final episode and you have to dig through the weeks of broken promises and hook-ups to get there. And for a messy bitch like me, I’ll do it.

So fast forward, it’s the end. The US has a stupidly bloated team left of mediocre players that stayed true to the alliance and earned protection from being voted off. The Brits are Jordan, Tori (a now-engaged US defected pair) plus CT (early US cast-off), Rogan (slimeball) and Dee (Australian spineless could’ve been shero). The British team ended up being a weirdly streamlined and athletic powerhouse while the US quickly crumbled and Paulie started physically breaking down on the first lap of the final. It seriously felt as though all of his backstabbing shittiness crashed onto his shoulders and attacked his muscles. It was strange how fast he folded while everyone (even the very, very un-athletic slew of women he protected) looked on at him with growing contempt. Cara Maria, the world’s most annoying girlfriend, kept pleading for the team to wait up and let Paulie regain his will to live while Kam and Leroy (another romantic pair) made it their mission to push through. And let’s pause and discuss Leroy for one moment.

This was Leroy’s 11th season. He’s never won a final and wanted it so bad. He even patched things up with Kam as if to buoy him up spiritually. And yet, I hate to say it, we all knew this still wasn’t his year. He just doesn’t have it - the ego, ruthlessness, whatever you want to call it - to win. He’s too kind, too good-natured for the show. All his pep talks and volunteering tired him out quick whereas Ninja’s sorry ass was full of vim and vigor in the last puzzle challenges. It never pays to play the nice game. Ever wonder why Ashley and Cara do so well? They’re heartless.

Which leads us to C motherfuckin’ T. Oh baby, I saved this for last and I’ll make it quick because I could go on and on about that boy (just like the blue of his eyes seem to go on and on like an ocean...) CT played a scared game up until the episode before the final. It was uncharacteristically tentative. It was as if his early rejection had scarred him. He wasn’t the same boisterous, and frankly, terrifying man we all remembered. But as the show progressed, and UK players kept getting cut, I wondered how much longer he’d be able to vote against his team. The writing was on the wall. The final was coming but nobody knew exactly when. The British team had been decimated. All of their best players were kicked off because they threatened the US’ odds at a sure win. So when players realized that the final had to be the next challenge, their true colors emerged. Jordan and Tori plead their case. They had defected to the UK team out of spite (Cara and Paulie really made it their mission to punish them in a weird, old-world Catholic vengeance king of way) and they were sick of losing. Plus, the US couldn’t protect all their alliance members. Somebody was going to be collateral damage, but who? As soon as it was final time, it would be team versus team, just as Jordan and Tori had suspected. It was time for CT to protect himself and vote with his team and against the alliance. And up until the last second, he pretended to be a loyalist. Then, at the final elimination he voted against Cara and Paulie and boy, were they mad. Even host TJ had his wig snatched. CT, ‘Challenge’ champ and Diem’s former beau (RIP), came through with a fabulous ‘et tu Brute’ moment and Julius Caesar himself would’ve been like, “Oh shit, son...you did that.”

You might assume, incorrectly, that I keep up with MTV’s other programming but I do not. I make a strict exception for ‘The Challenge’. You surely won’t catch any ‘Floribamashore’, ‘Catfish’ or ‘Wild ‘N’ Out’ viewing around my way. I have some modicum of class left from the last season of ‘Jersey Shore’ (because of course I watch the roommies!). I hate ‘Ridiculousness’. I tried ‘Are You The One’ and it has its moments but it’s just so sad and the people are so vulnerable and clingy, and quite clearly in need of therapy. So, ‘The Challenge’ is it for me. Say what you will. I regret nothing. CT forever. Paulie is whack. Johnny Bananas is a Republican.

Peace.

#mtv #the challenge #CT #chris tamburello #johnny bananas #tj lavin

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waymorecake4me · 5 years

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Won’t you take it back? (Roger Taylor x Reader

(a/n: So this is gonna be part one of, I think to a two part (MAYBE 3 if you guys like it) series. Please let me know how ya’ll feel about it, and I’m thinking about doing requests so if anyone would be interested in that, let me know about that as well. Love you guys <3 and shoutout to my homegirl @fluffyunicornofdanger for being an amazing friend and encouraging me to get out there.)

(also let me know if you wanna be on a tag list for the rest of this!)

Based off of “i love you” by Billie Eilish

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: you might cry? Fluff and angst.

The speakers were so loud and the crowd was swaying and dancing, they almost looked like fluid. Like water, maybe the ocean, considering the amount of people out there. Adrenaline could literally be felt throughout the air, something Y/n loved about watching her friend’s sets.

Their success seemed like it happened overnight but it had truly taken years to build up a fan base such as this. Album after album, recording sessions that she was always present for, and she traveled with them on tours as often as she could, if work permitted her to do so. People often mistook her for Queen’s personal assistant but she was nothing of that sort, just a friend who supported them more than anything or anyone.

Over the years, she became particularly close with the one, the only, Roger Taylor. Y/n was best friends with all the boys but when Roger was too drunk to drive home, she would pick him up and let him crash at her place for however long he needed. They shared stories about good lays, and of course the bad ones too. Drinking at either her place or his, it felt like home either way. Home was a concept to them that didn’t have anything to do with the place they were at, but that they were with each other.

Rumors would spread that they were together but it had only made them laugh, as they felt their best friendship was so much stronger than any relationship could ever come close to being.

Y/n’s hair was bouncing all around as she was watching the concert from backstage, her y/h/c’s locks blocking her face but it all seemed to find it’s way back to it’s original place. Probably from using a whole can of hairspray on it earlier that morning. She couldn’t help but dance like nobody was watching as they played ‘Tie Your Mother Down.’ The sheer rock ‘n roll vibe of the song had everybody losing control.

Every once in a while, Roger would glance over at her and make some stupid silly face that would send Y/n into a fit of laughter that could almost make her lose her footing. Why had she chosen heels? They’re really not that practical for watching a rock concert, especially when you stayed backstage the whole time with nobody to impress.

The whole set went on like this for over an hour, and seeing as it was the last concert of the ‘A Day at the Races tour’, in their hometown of London, the boys did an encore. The sweaty girl couldn’t feel her feet so she had since kicked those bloody heels off, feeling the cold stone under her feet was more than a relief. She sighed out, still trying to catch her breath from the dancing and prancing around backstage.

The thousands of people screamed and whistled when Freddie sat down at the piano and began to play the opening notes to ‘Somebody to Love.’ This song was one that had always been a bit embarrassing to Roger, only when Y/n was watching, because she would often joke with him about his background falsetto. But tonight, she spared him of the giggles from the sidelines, the poking her tongue out of her lips at him. No, tonight she simply closed her eyes and swayed slowly back and forth with a large grin on her face, enjoying the music.

Roger had sent countless glances her way, expecting fully to, at some point get ridiculed for his ‘balls in his chest’ voice, but he was only met with a beautiful girl, feeling the music in her body from her head to her toes. He couldn’t help but make a few extra looks over since he knew she wouldn’t see him, certain thoughts pushing their way into his brain.

Once the set had completely finished, the boys thanked the crowd and blew kisses to everyone, raising their instruments in the air, followed by the four running off stage, Freddie blowing a few extra kisses in the process.

“You guys did absolutely spectacular!” Y/n ran up to her friends, hugging all of them at once with her arms spread wide.

“You think so?” Brian smiled, retreating from the hug and placing old red back into her case for a well deserved good night’s slumber.

“Oh I know so, did you see them out there?” Freddie eyed Brian and pointed with his thumb, back towards the stage. He placed a quick peck on Y/n’s cheek, “Thank you, darling.”

“Thanks a lot, Y/n.” John uttered, a bit shy, or maybe just tired. They were all covered in sweat from the strenuous activity.

Normally Roger would have been the first to pounce on Y/n for a hug, and they would hang off of each other like Siamese twins, but he was being standoffish. And that was nothing like Roger, even his bandmates were looking at the blond, silently contemplating why the loud mouthed drummer hadn’t said a single word since their thanks to their fans.

Nobody was saying anything and the air around the five was starting to become way too awkward for comfort so Y/n spoke up as the others began packing their stuff up, “What? I don’t get a hug back?” She looked at the man, puzzled, “You alright, Rog? Need some water? You rocked it out there, y’know-”

“I’m fine.” Two words. Two words that Roger had never dared to say ever. He always had something on his mind and was always the first to speak up in ANY situation. But now he’s just… fine?

Roger placed his drum sticks in his back pocket and started the trek back to the band’s shared changing room, in which Y/n had never stepped foot in. She liked to give them at least a little privacy, not that they cared, but she did.

This left the woman standing alone, contemplating what the fuck she had just experienced. Had she said or done something? She knew her best friend and he never acted like that. There had to be something on his mind that he came up within the time span of him making silly faces at her, to the last song of the set.

Y/n sat down on what could hardly be called a bench that was sat right outside of their changing room, waiting, thinking, worrying. She was startled by the door swinging open, seeing the boys and hearing them talk about which bar or club they should celebrate at, but it was only the three. Freddie, Brian, and Deacy, “Are you coming with, Y/n?” Freddie called to her as they made their way down the hall, stopping at the exit.

She stayed seated on the bench and looked at them, then back at the changing room door, with the most confused expression on her face. Y/n didn’t need to say anything, her puzzled look that she gave the men was enough of an answer for them.

“If you change your mind, we��ll be just down the street. Probably the usual spot,” Brian chimed, “we won’t be far.” In which, she nodded in reply, and that sent the 3/4ths of the band out the door.

Roger had turned up an after party? The end of the tour celebration was basically what he looked forward to most when it came to touring. Something had to be wrong and if the boys didn’t even know after being in that room with him, then what the hell?

Y/n could easily give him his space to work out whatever it was in his pretty little head, but that’s not how they were with each other. That wasn’t the type of person she was with anyone, especially her best friend. She stood up, a bit shakily from the aching in her feet, and tapped a gentle pattern on the wooden door with her knuckles. Hearing a faint grunt in response, she opened the door to see Roger sitting on a couch, staring off into space.

“Rog… are you alright? No partying?” She giggled a little, “Are you sick?” She closed the door behind her.

Roger hummed lowly, “Not sick,” not even looking up at Y/n, “just not in the mood.”

Y/n skipped over to the couch and hopped on next to him, hoping that her playfulness would shake him out of whatever mental dilemma he was stuck in, “I think you are sick, have you got a fever?” She placed the back of her hand to his forehead but he was quick to swat it away, completely taking the girl by surprise, her playful concern now turning into real concern.

“I said I’m not sick, I just wanna be alone,” He gritted his teeth.

“Well that’s unfortunate because I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong,” She quipped back. Concern could be easily heard in Y/n’s voice, and yet, Roger still hadn’t even turned his head in her direction.

Roger had his hands tightly balled into fists on his knees. His eyes were stinging, as if the room had been filled with onions. Invisible onions had to be everywhere because Roger Meddows Taylor doesn’t cry, “You didn’t make fun of my voice,” he uttered smally, as if he were a child in trouble.

“I didn’t make fun of you? That’s why you’re in here?” She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her, “I can make fun of you all you want if you’d like-” But Y/n stopped when she noticed a tear rolling down his cheek. Was that sweat? It had to be sweat. “Rog…”

“The last song, Y/n. I was expecting you to mess with me,” The blond tried to avoid her eyes, “but instead all I saw was a gorgeous girl dancing.” A tear fell straight from his left eye so that ruled out the sweat theory in Y/n’s mind. “You looked beautiful. I mean- You look beautiful.”

This wasn’t something that came as a surprise to Y/n. They complimented each other all the time. What she couldn’t figure out was why he was crying about it, trying to keep himself prisoner in this god awful smelling back room while the others went partying.

“Well thanks, Roger, but I’m not sure I understand.”

Roger huffed out a breath and covered his face with his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He mumbled something quietly but his hands kept the sound waves from reaching Y/n’s ears.

“Huh? Roger, you’ve gotta talk to me if you want me to help-”

“I love you.” He uncovered his face and met his ocean blue eyes to her set of y/e/c orbs.

It fell silent. Deadly silent. Roger’s tears had stopped flowing and they were in a never ending eye lock.

But she couldn’t help it. Y/n let out a chuckle, a harsh one, a sound that made Roger’s heart drop. Once she settled down from laughing at his obvious joke, she looked at him once more, “I’m serious, Roger, I’m trying to help here.”

“I’m serious too, Y/n. I love you.”

It appeared as if a ten ton weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, but that weight had just moved and slammed down on Y/n’s shoulders instead.

“I get that you’re trying to make me laugh so I’ll leave you alone but-” The girl had been cut off by him, once again.

“This isn’t a joke. Is it THAT hard to believe that maybe I do love you?” His tone started to get higher with frustration, “And maybe you love me too?” He tried to read her face but he got nothing. “We’ve seen each other at our best and worst. We know everything about each other. I know you hate broccoli. I know you lost your virginity to a douchebag named Michael in Secondary School,” He stood from the couch, going into full rant mode, pacing back and forth in front of her, “Hell, I even know your mum’s favorite movie! I love you, dammit, Y/n.”

There was nothing that could’ve prepared Y/n for this. Her best friend confessing his love to her. Of course she loved him back but all of this would change everything forever. Things could never go back to normal after this. If they were to date, they could break up one day and then she could lose him forever. Their friendship was so strong. She couldn’t risk losing that.

Y/n could feel her heart beating out of her chest, her body getting hot, but still no expression on her face. Her mind was racing in a thousand different directions and the only thing she could manage to say, through all of her thoughts was, “No.”

“No? What is that supposed to mean?” Roger crouched down in front of her. She hadn’t moved from her seat on the couch. “If you don’t love me, look me in the eyes and say it.” No response again. “Say it!” His yelling could’ve made the walls shake, but it was Y/n who was shaking.

“You don’t mean it.”

Roger scoffed at that, “Oh yeah. Sorry, didn’t mean it. You’ve got to be joking right now, honestly.” He forced her to look at him, just as she had done to him just minutes before, “I’ll say it a million times if I have to, Y/n, I lov-”

“Stop, stop, stop, stop!” She extended her hand and placed it on Roger’s chest. She could feel his heart beating and it made her breath hitch a bit in the back of her throat, “Please. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to say it.”

Roger didn’t say another word, but he lifted his own hand and placed it over top of her own, squeezing it lightly. She didn’t resist the touch, but she had began crying. Roger hadn’t noticed until she was a shaking and sniffling mess.

“Hey, hey. No, no, Y/n. Why? Why are you…” Roger didn’t know how to complete his sentence. His eyes searched her face frantically, hands moving up to wipe away the steady stream of tears, although they kept getting replaced with new ones. “Don’t… please don’t cry.”

He couldn’t even take his own advice that he had left for her, as his eyes started to well up a bit. Neither knew why they were crying, but at the same time, they did.

“Take it back. Can’t you take it back?” Y/n asked him, through sobs. “Y-your words… Those three words.” She finally met his frantic blue eyes, “Can’t we pretend it didn’t happen?”

Love had been an unspoken joy for the two, since the very beginning. She loved him and he loved her, but once you put the words out there, it makes things harder. It makes it real. And those words? Coming from Roger? The man who never loved, couldn’t love, only made love, if you could even call it that. It meant more than just ‘I enjoy your company.’ In fact, he couldn’t recall a time where he ever felt the need to say those cursed words to anyone. Except for with Y/n.

“You’re telling me… that you want to make believe that everything in this room never happened?” Roger began to get defensive again, sparking a bit of panic in Y/n’s entire state of being.

“No- I mean, yes, just not in the way you think I mean.” Panic, panic, panic.

Roger couldn’t even begin to understand her thought process, “Why? Can you at least explain to me why?”

“I don’t want to lose you. You can’t love me and I can’t love you,” She had to look away from him. Looking at his soft features was far too painful.

“You’ll never lose me, Y/n. You have me. I’m right here. And you’re bloody well stuck with me.”

“Not like that, Roger,” She rolled her eyes and wiped away some of her tears, almost letting out a laugh. Just almost, at his ignorance to the situation, “I’ll lose my best friend.”

“But you’ll gain a boyfriend.”

“Rog, please,” She stood up and faced him, “It can’t be like this.” As quickly as those words left her mouth, her body left with them.

She was gone, and he was alone.

(Part two)

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redhairdontcare732 · 5 years

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SweetPea x Reader: Riot Night from Hell, Part 1

Author's Note: This one shot will be split into two parts. I just fell in love with this storyline, and the finished product turned out to be way longer than I had anticipated. There will be flashbacks interwoven throughout the story, and they're distinguished by the use of italics.

On another note, if you are enjoying my fics, please do me a solid and either favorite or comment on them so I know that someone (other than me) is interested in them. I'm a new writer, and even the simplest comment, like, or even private message would mean so much for my budding confidence!

Reader POV:

As I stood on the roof of Pop's, I internally questioned how my life had turned so far sideways in the course of just one day. Riverdale was in complete fucking chaos. My best friend was just shot and I had no idea if he was alive or dead, I had no clue where my boyfriend was, and the cherry on the top of this nightmarish day was that I was now stuck at Pop’s Diner, of all fucking places, with Archie Andrews, of all goddamned people, while Ghoulies patrolled the exterior, screaming my name. So on my list of top days, this was at the literal bottom.

The day had started out decently, I was with Sweets all day preparing for what would happen once Fangs was finally released. Sweet Pea and I had been dating for almost 5 years now, and we'd both spent the day doing everything we could to get our friend out of jail. Thing had really gotten fucked up when we went to the sheriff's office to escort Fangs out in one piece. I shivered internally as I recalled the events of today.

“IN UNITY THERE IS STRENGTH”, we shouted in unison, locking arms shoulder to shoulder. Everyone pulled away as we mentally prepared ourselves to usher Fangs out of the jail amongst the vengeful protestors. Sweet Pea was the only one who didn't pull away from me; rather, he pulled me closer into his arms and I naturally fell into his broad chest; I took a deep inhale of his familiar, comforting scent of worn leather, light cologne, and fresh soap. My hands found their way to the inside of his serpent jacket, hugging myself closer to him and shivering. Though it wasn't cold in the Sheriff's office I had these ominous chills that had racked my body ever since we'd entered. His thumbs brushed gently against the exposed skin between my ripped jeans and my white t shirt, soothing me in a way I didn't even know I needed. I sighed in contentment, briefly pulled from the swirl of anxious, dark thoughts that had plagued my mind since Fangs was arrested.

“I'm not gonna lie Y/N/N, I get why you have to come out with us, but I'm not thrilled with the idea of you out there with all those insane Northside assholes babydoll”, he murmured into my hair after a few moments. I chuckled lightly against him, tightening my arms around the handsome boy in reassurance.

“I'm not exactly thrilled that you are either Pea, but we both know that we aren't about to let Fangs go through this alone”, I replied quietly. Sweets pulled back slightly, bringing his large hands to rest against the sides of my face. His rough thumbs rubbed delicately across my cheek as he stared deeply into my eyes; I knew in that moment just how scared Pea really was. In times of stress Sweet Pea had the habit of taking my face into his hands, gently cradling my cheeks with the pads of his fingers and his eyes boring deeply into mine. I'd never really given it much thought at first; Sweets had done this since we were kids, and eventually when I pressed about it he had told me that he felt like he just ‘needed to know I was safe’. It somehow comforted him when he was able to see with his own eyes and feel with his own hands that I was indeed still with him. I brought my hands up to cover his gently. We stood like this for an indiscernible amount of time until he sighed in resolve. He brought my face closer to his with his hands and kissed me deeply. Normally, despite his tough exterior, Pea gave the sweetest kisses. His lips, though plump and rough were typically gentle and teasing against mine; Sweets preferred to initiate soft kisses until I moaned or deepened things myself. I think he began this habit when we were young and first together because he was nervous about my reciprocation, but he continues now because he just loved to watch the reaction he still had on me. And while the soft way Pea usually kissed me was one of my favorite things about him, I was surprised to find this kiss was very different. His lips were immediately needy against mine, tongue entering my mouth without warning. It was a kiss of desperation, of longing. Our mouths danced together as we both poured all of the emotions that our voices could not do justice to into our embrace. I was just as needy as him, but before too long we pulled back, foreheads resting against one another's. With one last peck to his swollen lips I nodded in resolve. Sweet Pea laced his warm fingers through mine, fitting together like pieces in a puzzle, and we headed out to the fray, hands locking us together.

I recalled how I’d gotten separated from the rest of the young serpents after Fangs was shot all because of the protesters and general pandemonium of it all. I had desperately searched amongst the crowd for the sight of the tall boy to no avail. My phone was dead, so I'd decided to search elsewhere. I ended up hopping on my bike and heading to the hospital, hoping to God that Sweets and Fangs would both be there and be okay. Adding to my growing fear and unease, it was only FP I found there, who broke the news that Fangs was in surgery.

“It's...ah... it's pretty bad kid”, FP drawled out while rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness. I felt my heart drop into the bottom of my feet. My eyes teared up at the prospect of losing my best friend. Fangs was so sweet and goofy; he should have never been in this position in the first place. My mind was flooded with picture perfect memories of summer days spent by the Quarry and late nights in Pea's trailer, surrounded by Fangs’ contagious laugh and ridiculous jokes. These memories ended abruptly as I recalled the way he'd slowly fallen to the ground, the red spot on his stomach spreading achingly fast. I remembered the sound of the gun above the screaming protestors. But most of all, I remembered Fangs’ face as he fell-- his soft features riddled with disbelief and pain as he slowly lost consciousness. He didn't deserve to go through this, and my heart felt like it was breaking into pieces because there was nothing I could do to help him. I wiped my tears with the sleeve of my shirt and steadied myself; with a deep breath, I reminded myself of my main goal at the moment. I needed to find Pea.

Despite FP’s best efforts towards the contrary, I'd left the hospital to try and find Sweet Pea. I knew that the whole town was in the middle of a full-on, apocalyptic riot, but I was determined to reconnect with my boyfriend and ensure that he was okay. Or as okay as he could be in this scenario, I guess. Knowing him for as long as I had, I knew that he was more likely than not spirling at the prospect of losing his best friend. And when Sweets spiraled, he spiraled hard and with violence. I was the only one with any chance of talking him off the ledge before he did something that he would regret later, and, honestly, I had also wanted to find him for completely selfish reasons. Even now, as I stood on the roof of our favorite diner, I desperately needed my boyfriend’s strong arms wrapped around me, his comforting scent surrounding me, and his deep voice in my ear telling me that everything was going to be okay.

So, I'd fought my way through Riverdale on my motorcycle, Mad Max style, trying to search anywhere I thought Sweets might be. I ended up at Pop's, hoping that either Pea would be there or Jughead would be and would know where he was. Pop's was an extremely important spot in our relationship; it was where he asked me out on our first date when we were 11 years old, it's where we shared our first kiss at 13, and it was in one of the booths near the back where Sweet Pea had told me he loved me for the first time. To this day the neon glow of Pop's never failed to make me happy or to give me hope.

However, the neon sign seemed dull and lifeless as I found, to my utter disappointment, he was not there. But not long after I showed up, Penny fucking Peabody and the Ghoulies arrived.

I was sitting with my head in my hands, having just been informed by Pop Tate that he hadn't seen Sweet Pea all day. The older man had his hand on my shoulders comfortingly, attempting to sooth my increasing level of anxiety. I glanced up at the kind, wrinkled face of Pop Tate and asked tiredly,

“Pop, you think I could use your phone?”. He nodded and handed me the receiver.

“ ‘Course sweetie”.

I dialed the number I'd long since memorized, praying that Pea would answer. Who knows what kind if trouble he could be in out there? My anxiety only increased as the line went dead, signaling that he hadn't answered. I slammed the phone down in frustration, returning to my previous position. Not seconds after, a giant crash hit my ears, and I heard the taunting voices that could only belong to Malachi and his Ghoulies.

“Oh Y/NNNNNNN, come out and playyyyyy”, Penny Peabody's sickening voice called out in a sing-song manner. “You and I have unfinished business DollFace”.

Penny as and I had never been on the best of terms; it was her and her snake charming ways that had nearly gotten my father released from prison, a thought which terrified me to my very core. Thankfully, the court system recognized the grave danger that would place me in and decided on a maximum life sentence. I thought that was the end of Penny and me, but unfortunately Jughead had to go and get himself tangled up with her when FP was locked up. I had taken my pseudo-brother's place in the deal he made, and once he came up with the plan to get rid of Penny I was all too eager to help. I knew she hated me, but I really thought she was gone for good.

“Okay we should be fine as long as-”, Archie started.

Another thunderous crash echoed through the small diner as one of the windows shattered.

“EVERYBODY STAY AWAY FROM THE WINDOWS”, I ordered as the burglar alarm blared.

“STAY DOWN”, someone shouted.

I ducked behind the counter, finding Archie Andrews down there as well.

“Pop do you have as gun in here?”, he asked tensely. The old man's soft face dropped.

“No. Had my fill of gunfire in the war. But I did learn a trick in the riots of ‘79. I have some liquor left over from Mr. Lodge's poker night”, he said tensely. “And if you can get to the roof from the crawlspace…”,

“I like how you're thinking Pop”, Archie interrupted. I nodded and shared a knowing look with my unlikely Northside ally.

I'd helped Archie Andrews board up the windows, and that's how I now found myself on the roof of Pop's with the ginger, liquor bottles in hand ready to fight the clinically insane gang below.

“Come on Y/N, you had to know that this moment was coming”, Penny shouted upwards at me, pulling me out of my trance. “It’s time to pay the price dollie”.

Malachai laughed, swinging his bat around teasingly. I glowered in response, choosing to stay silent. I felt Archie’s strong hand on my shoulder, offering support that I didn’t expect from the ginger boy. We'd been somewhat close as kids (friends through Jughead, my honorary self-proclaimed twin brother) but we hadn't spoken in a year or so. I wasn't overly fond of him as of late, ever since he ditched Jug for his Bulldog buddies and especially not since he'd waved a gun in Sweet's face and started his stupid Red Circle.

“Get the fuck out of here Penny, Y/N isn’t coming down and you’re not taking her any place”, he practically growled. I nodded.

“Last chance Ghoulie scum. Leave, or suffer the consequences”, I spat. Penny and Malachai scoffed.

“DO YOUR WORST! COME ON, HIT ME!”, Malachai shouted, a crazy look in his eye. Well, crazier than the usual insane look he wore. Steadying myself, I prepared the bottle. Lighting it quickly, I launched it as well as I could and managed to hit one of the ghoulies’ bikes dead on. The bike erupted in flames. This did nothing to faze the group below, and Archie lit his second bottle and prepared to throw it.

Before he could chuck the bottle, the Sheriff’s cruiser came bursting into the fray of Ghoulies, sirens blaring. Sheriff Keller and Fred Andrews came out of the car, Keller with a shotgun. He shot his shotgun in the air in warning and the Ghoulies scattered.

“This isn’t over Y/N!”, Malachai vowed as he ran away. I saw FP hop off his bike and demand that the rest of the Ghoulies leave. I smiled slightly in relief, and Archie and I shared a brief hug before heading back down into the restaurant.

Once we reached the bottom, I brought FP into a bone crushing hug as my way of thanks. He returned my affection, seeming like he needed the reassurance almost as much as I did in the moment. FP had always been there for me, especially since my own dad had gotten carted off to prison when I was 6. I'd stayed with the Jones’ on and off throughout my childhood, and it wasn't a stretch to say that FP was more of a father to me than my own. He was always there for me, and much like Sweet Pea he always tried to keep me from the less savory sides of life as Serpent. He pulled back from the hug to search my face for injuries. I rolled my eyes.

“You really think I'd let the discount Insane Clown Posse trash this beautiful mug?”, I joked half-seriously. FP rolled his eyes and glared.

“Seriously Y/N? What were you thinking taking on all those Ghoulies alone? You could've been fucking killed!”, he scolded. I scoffed.

“Okay first of all, I was not alone; our dear Archiekins was with me on the roof”, I said gesturing to the aforementioned boy who looked more like a wounded little puppy than anyone who'd just been tossing out Molotov cocktails had the right to. “Secondly, did it seem like I had many other options? And thirdly, I'm fine, so it couldn't have been that bad of a plan”, I sassed. FP sighed and ran a hand through his dark locks, eyes looking more tired than I knew he'd like to admit.

“Heard Sweet Pea is going insane looking for you Y/N; why the hell aren’t you answering your phone kid?”, he asked. I felt my heart flutter at the mention of my partner. My tough demeanor dropped instantly, and I grabbed FP’s arm.

“So he’s okay? Tell me he’s okay. My phone is dead; I'd tried calling on Pop's but he didn't answer. Where is he?”, I demanded. FP grabbed my arms gently.

“Whoa whoa slow down Y/NN. He’s fine, he’s good. He’s with Jug at the Wyrm”, he soothed. “Here, use my phone, call the boy and tell him you’re alright”.

I grabbed his phone eagerly, fingers swiftly dialing the number I knew by heart once again. My heart hammered in my chest as I heard the distinct ringing of the call being placed. I needed reassurance that my tall, dark haired other half was okay. With each ring of the phone my anxiety increased tenfold, until I heard the one thing I’d been searching for all night. That smooth, deep voice that could simultaneously calm me and send delicious tingles up my spine all at once. My mind flooded with the low rumbling chuckles and sweet sounds that comforted me as I laid on his chest in more tender moments, heart signaling sweet reassurances into my ears with each beat. My favorite sound in the world, Sweet Pea's voice

“Hello? FP, what’s up?”, I heard Sweet's soothing bass answer. Even though he sounded tense, panicked even, I couldn't help but feel elated that he was safe and able to speak to me at all. I sighed in complete relief.

“Pea? It’s me”, I answered quickly.

“Y/N/N? Oh my god are you okay? Where are you? Why aren’t you answering your phone?”, he questioned in a state of near panic.

“Sweets, it's okay, I’m okay. My phone is dead, and I’m at Pop’s with FP looking for you”, I breathed. “Are you okay? What happened to you after the Sheriff’s station?”.

“It’s a long story babydoll, I’ll tell you later. Where did you say you were? Stay there I’m coming to get you”, he replied. I shook my head before realizing that he couldn’t see me.

“No, Pea it’s not safe out there right now, and honestly it’s not safe here either. I’ll go with FP back to the Wyrm and meet you there”, I reasoned. He was silent for a beat, contemplating my words. I heard shuffling on the other line.

“Sweetheart, I know it’s not safe, that’s why I don’t want you out there”, he murmured. I could tell that he’d moved away from the other serpents; his sweet side was coming out and he probably didn’t want them to hear. “I just... I need you with me. I need to see you, hold you in my arms and know that you’re okay”.

My heart lurched at his protectiveness, warmth flooding my body at his tender words. I could practically picture his face, eyes cast downward and deep brown irises swimming with that look that he had always saved just for me. His chiseled jaw was probably locked, twitching with unease. If I were there I would run my fingers up and down his cheeks in an attempt to sooth the tense muscles, loving the way he relaxed and leaned into my touch.

“Sweets, I know. Believe me love, I want you safe just as much, but I promise I’ll make it over to you before you know it. The Wyrm is a hell of a lot safer than Pop’s at the moment, and besides I’ve been Mad Maxing my way through this nightmare of a town all night. I've got this”, I stated confidently. No matter how protective Pea could be, I was not some damsel in distress that needed his saving. There was no way on this Earth that I was going to let him go out into the riot that I’d been facing all night. He thought he could be protective but his fierceness had nothing on mine. He sighed and the line went silent for what felt like forever as I waited for his response.

“I love you”, he vowed finally.

“I love you more handsome. And I'm going to see you very soon”, I assured before we both ended the call. I turned to FP, handing him his phone.

“You down to help me get to the Wyrm?”, I asked. He nodded.

“Of course kid. You ready to ride on the back of my bike like you did when you were a tot?”, he grinned. I smiled in nostalgia for a moment, my mind wandering back to the simpler times of my life when FP would take me for rides on his bike to help me escape from the realities of my homelife, if only for a moment. I remembered fondly the day when he finally taught me how to drive my own bike that he gifted me. He always helped me take care of her, and some of my only true family memories were of Jug, FP, and I fixing up our bikes together. Surely he didn't think there was any way that I was going to leave her here in the midst of this shitshow.

“You're kidding”, I deadpanned. There was no way FP was for real.

“Dead serious kiddo. You need a way to get around, and I don't want you roaming the Southside alone even if Sweet Pea or Jug are with you”, he replied. I marvelled at the motorbike in front of us, tracing the chrome detailing with the tips of my fingers gently. I felt tears well up in my eyes and I rushed forward and enveloped him in a tight hug.

“Thank you”, I whispered. FP hugged me back briefly before affectionately mussing up my hair.

“Don't thank me yet kiddo, she still needs a ton of work. If you're up for it I mean”, he countered. I smiled my truest, widest smile.

“I'm in”.

“Think she needs a name don't you?”, he continued, heading over to the bike with his tools.

“Mhm”, I agreed, grabbing a tool out of the box and crouching down alongside him.

“She looks like a Norma to me”, I mused.

“Norma huh?”, he answered, not looking as I grabbed a tool from the box and began working.

“Yeah, Norma Jean”.

“I’m not leaving Norma Jean out here in this fucking dumpster fire of a town”, I countered. “I’ll just follow behind you”.

“That’s not a great idea kid”, he grumbled. “Riverdale is a hellhole on the best of days, and this is clearly not the best of days”. I crossed my arms petulantly.

“I'm not leaving Norma Jean here”, I repeated stubbornly. He sighed and rubbed his stubble ridden chin in contemplation.

“Okay, but you stay on my ass the whole way”, he countered, pointing a finger at me. “I move, you move. I stop you stop. You got that kid?”. I raised my hand solemnly.

“Scouts honor”, I stated seriously. He nodded, and we headed out of Pop’s together to fire up our motorcycles and head out.

We were speeding through the trashed streets of Riverdale, swerving here or there to avoid the dangers that littered the town’s once clean roads. I stayed true to my word and stuck close to FP as we traversed the potential dangers. I did my best to follow him, but after some rioters ran out in front of Norma I was forced to skid to a stop in the middle of the street. Among the din of the riot, FP didn't hear and he continued on. I huffed and began to start Norma up again in attempt to follow once more. But as I revved the engine I felt a pain like none I'd ever felt on the back of my head and my entire world went dark.

Sweet Pea's POV:

“Where the hell are they? She should be here by now”, I practically growled. Jughead lifted his hands up as if in surrender.

“Don't look at me man. Knowing how protective dad is over Y/N, and knowing how stubborn Y/N is, they're probably still fighting over how to get here. He's not gonna want her to ride alone, and she's not going to want to leave her bike”, he reasoned calmly. “Chill out Sweet Pea it's only been like 15 minutes, I'm sure they'll be here soon”, he continued before accepting a call and walking swiftly out of the bar to answer.

I blew air out of my mouth tensely, chest constricting tighter with each breath I took. While I knew that Jughead's words made sense, a larger more irrational part of me was still screaming that I needed to go out and find Y/N. My head was a swirl of rage and fear; my best friend was at some hospital fighting for his life, and the love of my life was out in this godforsaken nightmare of a town. There was nothing more I could do for Fangs, but I refused to stop until I knew my Y/N/N was safe. The only way I would be convinced that she was alright was if I got to hold her small frame in my arms. And to be perfectly truthful, I needed her warm body pressed against mine, her soft hair tickling my face, the sweet fragrance of her shampoo in my nose, and her melodic voice in my ear with gentle reassurances today more than ever. I needed her to keep me sane and grounded on the best of days, and this was sure as shit not the best of days. Ever since we were kids, long before I was ever lucky enough to call her mine, she'd been there to calm the ever-growing darkness that lived within me. Even once we got together I still needed her unique brand of tough love to set me straight at times.

“Pea stop!”, I heard her musical voice from behind me. I turned to see her comparatively shorter legs nearly running to keep up. I turned forward and continued on, ignoring the nagging urge to stop and listen to her.

“PEA I SWEAR TO FUCK-”, she shouted. I whipped around abruptly, stopping and standing nearly toe to toe with Y/N.

“Look, there's nothing you can say to change my mind Y/N. I'm not going back and that's it. Not everyone is cut out for this education shit, alright? I'll hit up Tall Boy, he's always got something lined up for me”, I practically snarled. I recoiled just the slightest bit at her stone cold face; her usually sweet features were scowling at me, adorable nose scrunched tight and dark eyebrows knitted together in concern and irritation. Y/N wasn't usually one to show when she was frustrated. No that was me; when I was angry everyone in a ten mile radius would know. I was like a wildfire, burning bright and scorching anything and everything in my path in a wave of red destruction. Her brand of anger was more like a blue flame, dark and understated, but more intense than you could imagine. My girlfriend could be downright terrifying at times, and to see her frustration directed at me nearly made me reconsider. She crossed her arms stubbornly.

“Give it up Sweets, you can't fool me with your ‘too cool to care’ act. I know you, and I know that you don't really want to quit school”, she growled. I huffed and ran a hand through my hair, frustration reigniting.

“Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought”, I spat. “In fact, why don't you just fucking leave? Everyone else does”.

I turned once again, walking quickly down the steps and away from the shithole that was Southside High. For a few moments I could tell that Y/N was still standing there motionless, and I felt an overwhelming amount of guilt and self-loathing overtake me. Why did I always do this? I couldn't even fathom the idea of my life without Y/N in it, but here I was trying my damnedest to push her away. But to face facts, Y/N was too good for me. She always had been. Too many thoughts swirled in my head all at once, and I quickly grabbed the helmet to my bike so I could ride and forget about them all. But just before my fingertips grazed the shiny black plastic of my visor , I felt a hand on my shoulder yanking me back. Y/N threw her arms around my waist, hugging me fiercely.

“No.”, she stated firmly, the sound slightly muffled by my chest.

“No?”, I scoffed.

“No, I'm not leaving you Sweet Pea. Not now, not ever. Get that through your head”, she replied while lifting her head slightly from my body. My heart fluttered, and I sighed in disbelief and skepticism. I tried to pull back from her vice grip, but like a boa constrictor she simply responded by squeezing my middle tighter. My hands hovered over her waist for a second or two before sinking into her embrace, grasping her as tightly as she did me.

“Sure Y/NN”, I murmured into her Y/H/C hair, breathing in deeply her familiar, comforting in an attempt to slow my racing heart. She always smelled the same: lilac scented shampoo mixed with some cheap perfume I'd gotten her for her birthday one year and a hint of cigarette smell. Normally I hated the way stale smoke smelled, especially on women, but somehow the scent was so uniquely Y/N that I couldn't help but love it.

“I'm serious Pea. Nothing you could ever say or do would make me give up on you”, she swore softly while looking up from the confines of my arms. “I love you, all of you. Even when you're so god-damned frustrating that it makes me want to strangle you, even when you do stupid and dangerous things, and even when you are so broken that you try to push me away I will still be there, loving you. I. Will. Never. Leave.You.”.

Her y/e/c swam with a mix of emotions: love, determination, sadness, desperation. I reached hesitantly up to her cheeks to rest my calloused fingers against her soft face, needing to feel her with my own hands and see her with my own eyes. With every sweet moment like this it became easier, but I too often needed to remind myself that she was indeed here. She was real, and she wanted me. Her dark fan of black lashes fluttered closer together as she closed her eyes slowly, reaching her hands up to rest across mine while her fingers traced delicate patterns across the backs of my hands. I was overcome with a feeling that I wasn't sure I could even explain. I decided in that moment that I was never going to let anything ruin this, what we had. Not even if that thing was me.

“I love you Y/N/N. I love you so much babydoll”.

With every passing moment that she wasn't here with me I felt myself becoming more and more unhinged. I paced around for what felt like an eternity. Voices swirled around me, and I couldn't have even guessed what they were talking about. When I finally tuned in, I found that FP had shown up. I immediately rushed over to him, eyebrows raised.

“FP, where's Y/N?”, I asked quickly, hope bubbling up in my chest amongst the fear that still swirled. His tired, worried face told me all I needed to know, but still I found myself asking again, panic evident in my voice. He shook his head sorrowfully.

“I don't know what happened man, she was right behind me the whole time and then all of the sudden she wasn't. I circled back and searched over and over but I don't know where she went off to Sweet Pea”, he admitted. My shoulders dropped and the fear that had been slowly building up all day suddenly contorted itself into a rock that sank into the bottom of my stomach. FP clapped a hand on my shoulder, finger pointing in my face, a determined expression in his eyes.

“Don't worry SP, she's the toughest girl I've ever known. She gonna be fine. We're going to find her man, I promise”, he spoke tersely. He sounded sure on the outside, but I could tell that he was just about as scared as me. It made sense, Y/N was practically FP’s daughter at this point; he and Jughead were the closest thing that she'd ever had to a family, other than myself. It was for that reason, and that reason alone, that I forced the anger that was bubbling within me back down. FP's phone buzzed, and he turned away to answer.

“What do we do man? I've gotta find her!”, I shouted after him. Already 5 steps ahead, I grabbed my jacket and began to head for the door. I'd been patient enough; now it was time to go and search for my Y/N/N myself.

“SWEETPEA!”, I heard a female voice shout from behind me. I turned to find Toni weaving her way through the throng of serpents with that red headed Northside queen bee following closely behind. She reached me and grabbed my arm so tightly that it would have hurt if I were capable of focusing on anything else but Y/N.

“Topaz I really don't have time for this right now. Y/N is still out there and--”, I started before the small, pink haired serpent shook her head furiously.

“No, that's what I'm trying to tell you Pea! I was held hostage by the Ghoulies, and when Cheryl and I were leaving I saw one of them roll in on Norma Jean”, she exclaimed breathlessly, eyes slightly wild.

“It's true. We would have stopped, but I'd just saved TT from those Neanderthals and we didn't have the same element of surprise on our sides this time”, the Queen Bee replied. My hands clenched into tight fists.

“So you're telling me that those Ghoulie scum have my Y/N?”, I spat through my teeth, eyes squinting shut in fury. Toni nodded. I felt my body start to quiver in total rage. A small, buried part of me was terrified at the prospect of my girl being surrounded by those fuckers. Sure, Y/N was as tough as they come, but those Ghoulies were certifiably insane. And she was probably way out numbered. My mind refused to accept the possibilities of what could being happening to her at this very moment, and my entire being chose to ignored this fear in favor of blinding fury.

“You have to take me there Topaz. Now.”, I demanded. Her pink locks bobbed with her head as she nodded grimly.

“Toni, where were the Ghoulies keeping you?”, FP interrupted. His face was grim and his mouth drawn into a straight line.

“I'm bringing SP there now, they've got Y/N”, she replied quickly.

“I know. I think Jughead just went to go save her, and now they've got them both”, FP choked. My hands clenched and unclenched with unabashed anger.

“Well what the fuck are we waiting for? Let's go”, I nearly screamed as I pulled Toni out the door and to our rides.

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cythians · 4 years

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Chiisana koi no omoi wa todoku

fuck me and my writing urge being triggered by a tweet

Yoru: I like to drop hints that I’m single to Aoi

Yoru, laying face down on Aoi's room floor, weeping: WHY AM I SINGLEEEEEE

this prompt by: https://twitter.com/incorrectnenchu/status/1220728493870284800

Fanfic under the cut uwu

It was afternoon, the lights dim and the curtains were closed in Aoi’s room. The sun slowly setting and Aoi forgetting his surroundings, immersed in the moment. Said blonde laid in his bed, a pillow propped up to the head of his bed as he sat against it with a manga in his hand.

Just some manga Koi had lying around at one of the coffee tables in the common room, the cover piquing Aoi’s interest. He smiled contently as he flipped through the pages of the mecha-themed manga. ‘I can just imagine Koi’s excitement’ He thought as he read the scenes and giggled to himself.

Aoi was reading the manga when in the distance he could hear some running footsteps. A bit after a stumble and after that a thud against his door. It made him jump a little and he closed the manga he was reading. Looking somewhat bothered at his door.

On the other side of the door was an embarrassed Yoru who fumbled with the handle of the door to Aoi’s room. Yoru was flushed in his cheeks and ridiculed himself for his trembling hands. Eventually, he got the door open and quickly entered. Turning around immediately as he got inside and closed the door again. He let out a huff as he leaned against the door.

Dramatically but also comically letting himself slide down the door until he sat on the floor. He held his knees with his hand and stared at the ground in shock.

Once he was released from his trance he decided to spare a glance towards the blonde who looked at him with curious and slightly worried eyes. Yoru sighed as he cast his head down. Aoi getting up from lying down on his bed.

“Yoru….?” He spoke softly.

Aoi became a little worried and turned to sit at the edge of his bed, patting the spot beside him. Yoru smiled at him and then raised himself to his feet again. Slumping over to the bed and plopping down beside his blonde friend. Aoi then gave him eyes that questioned ‘what’s wrong?’, a puzzling look adorning Aoi angelic face. ‘Like a prince’ Yoru didn’t know how he did it but Aoi’s expressions spoke volumes, a trait not many of Gravi or Procella’s members had.

Yoru also couldn’t help but adore Aoi’s features when he looked at him so intently…..and with his cutely worried expression.

The way his hair fell around his face, which parts were out of place, which parts he had the urge to move out of his face. How his lashes curled ever so slightly and the twitching of his cerulean pearl-like eyes as he studied him. It just made him feel so happy and warm inside.

Yoru smiled to himself before he fumbled with his hands, trying to lose his train of thought. A slight blush creeping up on him again, as if the scene from before wasn’t enough.

“I walked in on You and Arata”

Aoi’s eyes widened in shock before squinting at the other.

“You mean-”

“Yup”

“As they were-” . . . “Yeah”

Aoi groaned and put his head into his hands, experiencing the second-hand embarrassment from Yoru. Yoru hummed in accordance to Aoi’s reaction.

“I was wearing earbuds and didn’t notice”

Aoi looked at Yoru again, peeking from behind his hands.

“Oh my god……Yoru”

Aoi glanced at him with his cheeks now tinted in red, probably imagining the scene.

“Oh man, we need drinks for this”

Aoi commented as he let himself fall on his back on the bed, spreading his arms out. Yoru chuckled as he got up from the bed, looking fondly at the sprawled out Aoi.

It was nice that they were able to get along this well. Yoru remembered when they first met, it was when both groups were introduced to each other. Arata and You getting along with each other pretty quickly as they bonded over which actress had the best….ahem…figure.

Yoru and Aoi were just really stuck with each other as everyone was talking to their opposite pairs. So they ended up spending time together, first talking about Arata and You, quickly realising they were both childhood friends to the other. They both laughed at the coincidence. It also didn’t take long for them to realise they had the same hobbies and their personalities matched. But what did surprise Aoi is that they like the same kind of music, it was kind of scary really, how their recently listened to play-list was basically the same. But all in all, it was great! They could get excited about recipes and new song releases. Both Yoru and Aoi really enjoyed spending time with the other. A sort of harmony forming between them.

“They’ve only been dating for like a week and I’ve already walked in on them three times”

Yoru said with a disgusted look on his face and tone to his voice. His face displaying his thoughts quite perfectly ‘yuck’.

“Going at it like rabbits” Aoi replied in a grumble as he raised his head to look at Yoru in realisation.

“No pun intended”

Yoru actually let out a laugh at that and turned back to Aoi before leaving. Being in thought for a moment before raising a finger to his chin.

“Where do you guys keep your sake?” Yoru asked as he smiled sweetly at Aoi, as if his question was ever-so-innocent. Aoi grinned but slightly raised a brow.

“Bottom cupboard to the left, but the strong stuff is stuffed in a box underneath the sofa”

Yoru raised a brow but turned around to find his way to the Gravi common room and get them some of that i-don’t-want-to-remember-this-drug.

☾

Back at Aoi’s room, said boy had closed his eyes as he laid down blushing at the scene he was imagining. Picturing Arata and You as he couldn’t cancel out his curiosity.

‘Why am I even imagining this?’ He asked himself as he frowned. Shaking his head to get rid of the scene in his mind.

‘I need something else to think about’

Aoi bit his lip in thought as he opened his eyes again. His mind having wandered to the green-brunette that was just with him. Placing him inside of his mind, in a position completely inappropriate.

“UGH”

Aoi groaned loudly as he covered his face in frustration together with embarrassment. Slightly sobbing into his own bedsheets.

Truth be told. Aoi was having some difficulty regarding his feelings towards his white counterpart. It felt like when he looked at Yoru everything else behind him seemed to fade and only he shined. It just seemed to fit, when Yoru was in his point of view the world seemed right. ‘I can’t tell him that’ Aoi didn’t know how he should confess or if he even should.

As you would have it, Yoru chose that exact moment to return to the room. Aoi sat up straight and slapped his cheeks, looking guiltily at the other.

“I am sorry, Yoru”

Yoru cocked his head in confusion. The sincerity behind that sorry was kind of throwing him off.

“For what?”

The cute cock of his head was just too much for Aoi and he groaned again letting himself fall over on his bed. Yoru stood in the middle of the room with two beer cans in hand. Aoi then raised a hand in a grabbing motion which Yoru understood as Aoi needing a drink.

Yoru then went to sit next to the blonde again, opening his own can of beer and setting a bottle of sake to the side, which they would probably use in a bit. Yoru noticed the stare Aoi was giving him, eyeing him all over as he ended at his eyes again. He locked eyes with the other and Aoi seemed to study his face for a good few seconds, all while there was a blush present on his face, which made Yoru also blush. Thinking something along the lines of ‘Why is Aoi blushing ////’

Aoi then noticed the interlocking of their eyes and he looked away, bringing up the can of beer to his mouth to take a big gulp from it. Thinking for a second and then raising the can to his mouth again, downing all of the liquid in one go.

Yoru raised a brow at this, he was surprised, it was unlike motherly Aoi to forget about himself and just down a can of beer. But it did say something about the two. They were comfortable with each other.

Yoru chuckled as Aoi wiped his mouth and the blonde only grinned mischievously at him in return. He leaned over at Yoru and raised his beer can to his mouth, nudging him to drink. Yoru then decided to copy Aoi and drink it all in one go, only it didn’t go as smoothly for him. He had to start coughing and his throat slightly burned. He also started feeling dizzy quickly after that. Aoi pat him on the back and started snickering, to which he earned a glare from the other.

Aoi then, reached over for the bottle of sake, not even asking for the cups but bringing the bottle right to his mouth and drinking from it, turning to Yoru for him to drink as well.

“Hold…on”

Yoru said as he raised his hands and pushed back the bottle being brought to his mouth. Aoi then swallowed his gulp.

“You don’t get to see this side of you often Aoi”

“I have my reasons”

Aoi said as he pouted, nudging the bottle of sake towards Yoru.

Yoru only sighed before accepting the bottle.

☾

The sake bottle was empty, multiple empty cans of beer were sprawled on the floor of Aoi’s bedroom and the two of them were filling the space with laughter and cries.

“BUT WHY AM I STILL SINGLEEEEEE”

Yoru screamed as he laid down on Aoi’s floor, rolling over and crying about being single, and You getting with Arata of all people.

Aoi burst out in laughter at that comment and couldn’t contain himself or stop himself from laughing, eventually doubling over. Yoru frowned at him in discontent.

“Aoi, so mean” Yoru pouted.

Aoi didn’t stop laughing, instead, he just looked at Yoru’s face and laughed even harder. For which Yoru stood up and went over to Aoi, shaking the blonde to get him to stop laughing. To which Aoi did simmer down to. His laughter slowly fading as he looked at Yoru with a big smile plastered on his face. He grinned.

Yoru pouted more as he still held onto Aoi, stopping his shaking. Aoi took a breath and then regained a regular expression which quickly turned into something mischievous.

“Yoru is pretty, I would date him”

“Eh?”

The both of them had to process what Aoi just said. Aoi raised a hand to his mouth and then grinned again.

“Oops”

Yoru cocked his head, intriguing eyes looking at the blonde. Whose eyes shimmered with glee. Yoru then, as he held onto Aoi’s shoulders, moved his hands to the others’ hands. Removing the hand in front of Aoi’s mouth and putting their hands in Aoi’s lap.

Yoru felt time slow down, glancing away from Aoi before looking at the sea-blue dazed over eyes. Aoi’s grin nearly reaching his eyes. Yoru felt an impulse raise within him, something prickling his stomach and something aching in his heart. He leaned in slowly, moving his face to Aoi’s, holding on for a moment as he could feel the heat from the others’ face, but not yet letting their lips touch. Aoi’s breath seemed to stop for a second and he tensed, but as Yoru watched his reactions he seemed to wait for him.

Yoru then leaned back into Aoi as he closed his eyes, the other also gently closing their eyes. Their lips first grazing each other, hovering slightly before both of their soft lips touch each other sensitively.

They broke apart after a few seconds. Letting their eyes open half-lidded, searching the others’ orbs for a hint of what should be next. Yoru’s looked eager and Aoi’s seemed to already know what should be next. Aoi raised a hand to Yoru’s face and pulled him back into a kiss, before forming their lenient contact into a proper kiss. Yoru squeezed Aoi’s hands a little and Aoi squeezed them back. This was enough of an initiation for them both. It was Aoi who opened his mouth first, letting Yoru lead into deepening their kiss, to which he gladly complied. The taste of beer and sake present in both their mouths. Yoru couldn’t help but think he preferred the taste of sake in Aoi’s mouth. Aoi grinned into their kiss and let his hands reach for Yoru’s hair, pulling slightly at the strands in his neck. Yoru then took that opportunity to move from his position and push Aoi back onto the bed. They broke contact and Yoru raised himself to hover above Aoi, glancing down at a grinning blonde that bit his lip, his cheeks red from the alcohol, but Yoru couldn’t help but wonder if it was maybe also from their kiss.

‘That’s just too cute’

‘He’s so adorable’

It was something unexpected, something exciting, maybe even something daring. Who knew what they would think in the morning, all that mattered now, was this moment.

#Satsuki Aoi #nagatsuki yoru #haduki you #uduki arata #aoyoru #six gravity #procellarum

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