#I drew him in a binder and pride shorts but it looks like he's in a swimsuit which is slightly bugging me but it's fine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatmultifandomhoe · 3 years

Text

Knitting You a Home - 5

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 2,745

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: None

Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Series Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

The outside world faded away from Namjoon as he sat in his studio, scratching out lines that he’d previously written, trying to find another way that explained the way he was feeling that flowed with the song.

He had been like this for the last several hours, biding his time as Yoongi and him waited for the artist to arrive and listen to the tracks they had prepared, and to give them the input they needed on that one song.

“You know, as nice and passionate as he seems to be about his music,” Yoongi murmured, scrolling through his phone like he had been for the last few hours. “I really hate it when people are late and don’t bother to call and give a heads up.”

Namjoon hummed in agreement, not even bothering to check the time. Instead, he chewed on his bottom lip, sighing as he once again drew a harsh black line. The page had slowly filled in with more crossed out lyrics than when he started rewriting it this morning.

He had felt bad leaving you in bed this morning, again. Like clockwork, he’d leave the house by seven thirty to guarantee he’d make it to the bus stop to get to work ten minutes before eight, but this morning had been different. Those few moments you shared when he did crawl into bed hadn’t happened this time, and it left him feeling off centered. You had ended your day not knowing if he came home, and were going to start it off waking up and wondering if he had come home.

Then he ended up not being able to go visit you during his lunch break, because by a stroke of luck, Yoongi had called him over to Genius Studio to go over an idea he had on the unspeakable song. They had nicknamed it that when the rapper turned down another version that they had for it this morning.

It was only a quick and short text that he was able to send to you before going over to Yoongi’s studio, feeling even guiltier. If his math was correct, then you hadn’t seen him since yesterday at lunch. Which was one thing if the two of you lived in separate houses and were only dating, but you lived with each other, shared the same bed, your paths should have crossed more than once.

Not hearing a reply from Namjoon, Yoongi lifted his head, shifting on the couch to see that his friend was still leaned back in his chair. His feet were propped up on the drawer of his desk with the notebook against his legs.

Yoongi’s tail lightly thumped against the couch – not even Namjoon’s ears flicked in his direction – and he glanced at the time. It wasn’t late like yesterday, only eight, but just like the other day he wanted Namjoon to go home. He was concerned about his friend and thought that he needed to get away from the studio and spend some time with you.

Maybe by being with you, Namjoon would realize that it didn’t matter whether there was a ring on your finger, or a Mate Mark on your neck, you were the love of his life and he was yours, and that was all that mattered.

“Mixtape?” He finally asked, curious as to which project Namjoon was working on.

Namjoon nodded, finally turning to the next clean page to write out what he had. Maybe if it wasn’t surrounded by scribbles and cross outs, he’d be able to figure out the next few lines before the chorus.

Namjoon reached out and tapped on his phone out of habit, curious if you had messaged him. The lock screen photo made him smile, taking a moment to admire it before going to his messages. It was from the morning after one of his heats and naturally, he had woken up before you. Sunlight had streamed through the curtains, highlighting your body in an otherworldly glow as you slept. The only adjustment he had made was when he brushed your hair off your neck, revealing the – at the time – Mate Mark that was only a couple days old.

It was a picture that relaxed and sent a wave of pride through him. While the day that you officially adopted him was one of the happiest days of his life, this particular moment in time was forever ingrained in his heart. He had found the one person meant for him.

When he finally pulled up his messages, he smiled as he saw an unread text from you.

From Angel:

Don’t worry about it Joonie! I have some news to tell you when you come home, so I’ll see you tonight. Love you!

He hoped you hadn’t gone overboard with dinner, but knowing you, you probably dug out the cookbooks and decided to try a new recipe. Without a doubt there’d be a plate fixed up for him waiting in the fridge for him when he came home. The gesture was sweet and while he was thankful for you thinking of him, it only made him want to come home at a normal time to eat it with you, when it was done cooking.

A knocking at the door captured his attention, forcing him to slide his notebook closed with the flyer for the underground rap battle serving as a bookmark back into the drawer when Yoongi opened the door. Namjoon hid his surprise when not only the rapper entered the room – apologizing for being so late – but a woman entered with him, her hand clasped in his own.

One inhale and Namjoon was gripping the arm of his chair, feeling like he had gotten run over when the scent of her overbearing perfume hit him, along with the rapper’s scent coming from her as well.

In some shape or form, these two were together, and they hadn’t been late due to dinner as he was telling Yoongi.

“Well,” Namjoon spoke, clearing his throat as he shook hands with the artist and then his, friend. “Why don’t we get started.”

As everyone got comfortable, Namjoon glanced at Yoongi over their heads, raising an eyebrow at his older friend.

Yoongi simply scrunched up his nose, tail flickering in agitation at the humans overpowering scents.

It was going to be a long night.

“Knit one, pearl two,” you softly murmured, reading over the knitting pattern. Dinner had long since been put away and the dishes cleaned up, a plate already made up and set aside in the fridge for Namjoon for when he came home.

Since you were officially on vacation, you were sitting on the couch with a pattern you had printed out God knows how long ago. It was for a baby blanket, and as you had been rifling through your binder of patterns, you couldn’t help but linger on this particular one. It was too soon to assume – with Hoseok leaving for a year at the end of the month it certainly wasn’t going to happen – but you couldn’t help but think that Sarah would need it. If not now then she would one day for sure. Something told you that her and Hoseok weren’t going to have only one child.

And if not, it’ll make a beautiful display for the shop, you thought, writing a check mark in your notebook next to row one, continuing on to the next one. Right now, it just looked like a long section of yellow yarn. Give it a few days and it would look like the picture, a baby blanket with a seashell design big enough to wrap the baby up in or to put in the crib.

Sighing, you glanced at the clock on the wall, not surprised that Namjoon wasn’t home. It was only nine, too early for him to even consider leaving work.

It hadn’t always been like this. He used to come home at a normal time, or the latest at least eight pm. That had been when he first started working for the music company. With Yoongi by his side guiding him, Namjoon had managed to work his way up and was able to produce music alongside with Yoongi. The promotion had surprised even you, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was that Namjoon was doing a job that he loved, and from the stories he told you with bright smiles, the hours he spent at the studio were worth all the late nights.

Of course, you missed him. You missed teasing him as he tried to help prepare dinner, and curling up on the couch when the dishes were done. Tender moments of when the two of you were in separate worlds, him lost in a story or new book of poetry and you knitting up a new project, but always connected as he pulled your legs over his lap and would run his palm along your bare skin. Those were the sweetest memories that you missed.

Tonight, was nearly identical to those precious moments. The TV was on low, your legs stretched out on the couch as the knitting needles clicked together. The only thing that was missing, was Namjoon.

Namjoon pressed down on the back of his neck, groaning as he entered the house. The night had gone exactly as he had thought, and they were still left with the unspeakable song to do. Every idea and suggestion ended up crumpled up and thrown in the trashcan.

By the time the artist and his girlfriend left, both him and Yoongi reeked of the perfume she wore, and Namjoon was growling in irritability because his studio no longer had his scent. He had spent the last hour trying to rid the room of hers, but it was no use. The only female scent that belonged in there was yours, and he was debating on having you come by one day to help restore order. Until he got a shower and smelled like himself again, scenting his studio was absolutely pointless.

He stopped short in the living room however, his thoughts hitting pause as he walked around the couch to see you asleep. The basket that held your knitting was placed on the floor next to the end table, the throw blanket that was usually over your chair half haphazardly covered your body.

The sight of you sleeping eased some of his distress, but it only raised a new worry now. Crouching down, he gently brushed back the hair that had fallen, a soft smile appearing on his face as he gazed at you. There was probably a good reason you were out here instead of in bed, but like a quick fire, guilt plagued him at the thought that you had been waiting for him. He remembered that you had wanted to tell him something, but he didn’t think it was serious enough for you to camp out on the couch.

“Angel,” he softly called out, running his knuckles against your temple. “Wake up sweetheart, it’s time for bed.”

A soft groan came from your lips, making him chuckle, but he continued on. “Come on, you know an angel like you isn’t meant to sleep on a couch.”

You tiredly smiled before opening your eyes, relishing at the sight of Namjoon. “The only angel I see here is you.” You stretched a hand out to cup his cheek, sighing at the content sound of his growl.

Namjoon ducked his head down, chuckling as he gazed lovingly at you. A wave of deja view had him taking a trip down memory lane, recalling another time when he had come home to find you sleeping on the couch in an attempt to wait up for him.

“Why weren’t you sleeping in your bed?” He hoarsely asked, watching you unfold the towel and settle it on his hair, all while being mindful of his ears. He hadn’t expected the rain and he was soaked as a result of the sudden storm.

You didn’t answer for a few moments. Instead you were focused on drying his hair and gathering your thoughts. “I was waiting for you to come home,” you finally answered, moving the towel off his head. His wolf ears lifted up, bringing a soft smile to your face despite the serious situation at hand, and began to carefully dry them as well.

His eyes burned with tears and despite biting his lip and trying to think of anything else, he couldn’t. Never before had a place been a home for Namjoon. The feeling was foreign and it scared him. The idea of there being a place where he felt safe, cared about, and loved terrified him, so he ran.

He ran until he realized there was no-where he wanted to be than with you, that the only person he wanted was you. He loved the things that you knitted him, he enjoyed starting his weekend off with you on the couch drinking coffee and watching those wedding shows.

He loved the way your house always smelled like something was being baked, and he sincerely appreciated that after he woke up from a nightmare, you were there to coax him out into the kitchen where you prepared to make tea or coffee and a late-night snack to take his mind off of his memories. You never forced him to, but he knew that you’d listen if he wanted to talk about it.

Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you closer so he was able to rest his forehead against your stomach.

The tears slid down his cheeks as he sobbed, his grip tightening the slightest when he felt you move. But it was only to set the towel on the table as you wrapped your own arms around his shoulders, gently rubbing your hands in circles on his back.

“It’s okay Namjoon,” you softly spoke. “You’re home now. It’s gonna be okay.”

Shaking his head, he gently slid an arm underneath you to help you sit up right. “Are you awake enough to tell me about that news?” He teasingly asked.

You frowned up at him but realization dawned on your features, resulting in him chuckling as you nodded. Holding your hands out, Namjoon took them in his as he pulled you up, immediately leading you to the bedroom.

“Well as of today, Grandma has declared that I’m on vacation,” you told him. He slid his arm around your waist and you leaned into him, your nose scrunching up at the citrus smell on his shirt.

“She finally got tired of you?” He joked, not noticing the way your face fell.

Licking your lips, you frowned as a headache began to form behind your eyes at the scent. “She says that we work too much and don’t spend enough time together.”

“Was there the mention of us having kids?”

“That we should be in a certain room in our house more than we are.”

Namjoon snorted, watching as you sat down on the bed before going to his dresser and pulling out a new pair of boxers. “I need a quick shower but I shouldn’t be long.” He smiled as he walked back towards you, kissing your lips briefly before heading to the bathroom.

The water was heard instantly. You were staring at the doorway, wondering if he had known. He had to know that he reeked of another woman’s perfume, his own sense of smell was heightened incredibly compared to yours but yet, he didn’t say anything. There was no explanation for why he smelled like that.

Reaching up to touch the side of your neck, you shakily inhaled as you forced yourself to dress for bed, curling up under the blankets on your side.

It was the first time that he was home before midnight. The first time in so damn long that the two of you were going to bed at the same time, and he smelled of another woman. While you figured there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, your heart seemed to hang in your chest.

By the time he crawled in behind you, burying his face in your neck and softly kissing the skin, you couldn’t erase the venomous thought that there was no other reason for why he was staying so late at the studio anymore.

Before you had wondered if…now you were wondering just who wore that disgusting perfume.

96 notes · View notes

the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

The Ingredients For Baby Making (Bucky x Reader)

Sequel to - The Cupcake Hostage Situation, The Cupcake Hostage Situation: Phase Two and Operation Little Cupcake

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

WARNINGS - Smut, Pregnancy, Swearing

Summary - It started with a cupcake being held hostage, a borrowed shirt and a possessive Bucky Barnes. Now you're on the journey of a lifetime.

Baby making was NOT sexy, which was disappointing. You were taking it like a champion though, you were impressing yourself with the levels of maturity you were displaying. Bucky did not share the pride.

“You threw your pen in the air and ran out of the office.” He said coldly.

“He said one of the words.” You whined.

“Scrape?”

“Ahhhh! NO!” You screeched, putting your hands over your ears.

You had researched everything about childbearing and rearing but managed to skip over all the gross medical stuff for a reason. There was a list of words your fertility doctor wasn’t allowed to say which had left Bucky and the doctor bemused.

“Doll, I had to sit through the rest of the appointment myself while you renamed all of the fish in the waiting room!” He said, crossing his arms and glaring at you.

“Only one of us needs to know what we’re doing though.” You argued.

“I’m not the one with the uterus.” He deadpanned.

“I’m telling you, I can’t do it. If he says secretion, mucus, scrape or moist, I’m out. You can go have a baby with Steve.” You said firmly.

“Steve doesn’t have a uterus either.” He frowned.

“How is that your only objection to that suggestion?”

“Stop it. You need to follow me now ok?” He said, slinging his arm around your shoulders and guiding you down the corridor of the fertility clinic.

“The doctor needs to take blood, urine and to do a cervical… scoop?” He explained.

“Eww.” You said, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

“Just lie back and think of England doll.” He sniggered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You: It’s time!

Booty Barnes: What?? I’m in the supermarket!!!!

You: But my mucus is sticky!

Booty Barnes: You’re right, that’s not sexy.

You: But you’re still coming back aren’t ya?

Booty Barnes: … I’m in the car.

It was time. You were off the pill and both you and Bucky were fertile according to the test results. You were still mildly annoyed that you’d had a plastic torture device prise you open so the doctor could swab your cervix with an abnormally long cotton bud and all Bucky had to do was wank off into a plastic cup. But annoyance aside, all the tests had come back with encouraging results. You were ready, you were both ready.

This was actually happening.

Bucky must have broken several speed laws to get back to you because in a very short amount of time you heard the pounding footsteps as he pelted down the hall towards your room and the door crashed open. His eyes locked onto you and you saw the way they lit up at your choice of outfit. You were clad in absolutely nothing except his blue Avengers coat, the zipper hanging open to expose your skin. He crossed the room in three large strides and picked you up off the bed, pulling you into his chest and kissing you with poorly contained excitement and passion.

“Last chance to back out.” You warned.

“Never.” He snarled, virtually ripping his clothes off.

“Then put a baby in me Sergeant.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He pushed you backwards forcefully, sending you flying across the bed to land on your back with your head on the pillows. Less than half a second later he was on top of you. His hands, one smooth metal, one rough flesh, slid under the borrowed jacket to thoroughly explore your body, much in the same way his tongue thoroughly explored your mouth.

“God I love you.” He whispered against your lips.

“I love YOHH!” You moaned as he smirked into the kiss and cupped your groin in the middle of your sentence.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” He teased.

“I love… oh god.” You tried again to say it but he ran his fingers along your slit, distracting you.

“Babydoll, you’re soaking wet.” He mused wickedly.

“Fucking fuck me Barnes.” You hissed.

“Look at me.” He demanded and you did.

He rested his forehead against yours and gazed into your eyes, letting you see all the love in them. It was overwhelming, knowing how much he cared for you.

“I love you.” You whispered breathlessly.

You felt the head of his cock push past your folds and keened softly, your hands gripping at his shoulders. He held your gaze as he slid home, his length pressing deep inside you until he bottomed out with a grunt of satisfaction. As always he held still, carefully making sure you were ready before he even thought about moving.

The knowledge of what you were doing, why you were doing it was hanging over you both, adding another layer to the passion. His flesh hand brushed gently over your abdomen, caressing it before he pressed hand palm against you and moved his hips.

“There I am, I can feel it.” He groaned.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and dragged his head to yours, your lips seeking his out. He obliged your wish, like he always did and kissed you ardently while he drove his cock deep inside you. You rocked your hips against his, your bodies working in tandem as you chased the mutual pleasure that was imminent.

“Come for me sweetheart, I need you to come.” He begged, pulling your thighs tightly around his body and thrusting as deeply as he could.

Your body happily obliged and desperate cries of his name mixed with professions of love fell from your lips. His thrusts became shallower until he was just grinding against you, letting the flexing of your walls around him pull him into his own orgasm. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his body as he came.

“I know it probably won’t happen the first time we try but I’m not ready to pull out yet, just in case.” He murmured.

You knew that it wouldn’t really effect your chances but you didn’t care. You let him gently rest his body weight on you and stroked your fingers through his hair while he splayed his hand across your belly.

“I hope she has your hair.” He said.

“I hope HE has your eyes.” You rebutted.

“I hope whatever it is doesn’t have your sass.” He smirked.

“I hope our son doesn’t have his fathers uncanny ability to be an ass.”

“Father?” He said, his eyes growing misty.

“Barnes, you realise you’re the daddy right?” You snorted.

“I know. I just like hearing you say it like that, makes it sound so real.” He admitted.

“You’re going to be a father, a daddy, dad, papa… I’m going to carry your baby and they are going to grow up with the best father in the world.” You promised.

“Lucky kid, best father and you. The best mother in the universe.”

“Meh, I kinda figured I’d pawn it off on you and just show up on birthdays. At least until the thing is old enough to talk without talking gibberish.” You joked.

“It’s got your DNA, could be a long time until that happens.”

“I can always change my mind and go have a baby with Sam, he’d be nicer to me.” You grumbled.

A low growl of annoyance vibrated in his chest and it drew your attention to the fact that his cock was rapidly hardening inside you.

“Then again, how could I be satisfied without the non-existent refractory period of a super soldier?” You said breathlessly.

~~~~~~~~~~Two Weeks Later~~~~~~~~~~

“Doll? What’s wrong?” Bucky asked softly.

You were curled up on an armchair, clutching a pillow and quietly crying.

“I got my period.” You sniffled.

“Oh.” He said, picking you up and sitting himself down so you were sat on his lap.

“We knew it probably wouldn’t happen right away, it’s only the first month so it’s stupid that I’m so upset. But I just thought, I dunno… I wanted it.” You sighed.

“I know, me too. But the doctor said it could take a few months.” He said soothingly.

“Don’t you have super sperm though?” You whined.

“Kind of, but you’re only human doll.”

“So it’s my fault?” You snapped, sitting up and trying to get off his lap.

“No, NO! That’s not what I meant.” He insisted, refusing to loosen his hold on you.

“Sure as hell sounded like it.” You snarled angrily.

“I meant, it’ll happen when it happens. You’ll get pregnant when your body decided it’s good and ready and not a second before.” He explained.

You gave up fighting and threw yourself back onto his lap with a disgruntled expression.

“I hope it happens soon.” You muttered.

“It will.” He promised, pressing his lips to your hair.

“I have some good news.” He murmured.

“It would have to be pretty spectacular news for me to care right now.” You grumbled.

“Well, we’re out of escrow. The house is ours.” He said.

“What?”

“We have the house.”

“It’s ours? Like properly? We own it? Fully?” You shrieked.

“We own it.”

In your trusty binder there had been several potential properties listed and the one Bucky had been drawn to was the one you had liked the most as well. A large, rustic cabin with six bedrooms, a wraparound porch and stone chimney. The best part was, it was less than 30 minutes away from Clint’s farm.

You had the friends and family, you had each other, you had the home, the final ingredient you needed was the baby and you and Bucky would have everything you wanted.

After that, the two of you didn’t waste a single opportunity to try and get you pregnant, and thus begun the great baby making saga. At first, it was carefully planned out and painstakingly executed. You took turns seducing and romancing each other with candles, massage oils, you wore more of Bucky’s clothes than he did at this point.

Eventually, it became less planned and more frenzied. If anyone left you alone for more than two minutes, Bucky’s pant were around his ankles and he was thrusting into you at a desperate pace. It led to you having sex in some pretty interesting places and you decided that if your baby was conceived in the back of a quinjet while Bucky held his hand over your mouth to stop the rest of the team overhearing you, then you were never ever going to admit it.

However, if your baby was conceived in Tony’s lab… You were going to print it on the birth announcement.

The rest of the team were in the dark, you and Bucky didn’t want anyone to know until it was a done deal. It just seemed safer that way. Of course, this led to an array of jokes about how you and Bucky couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, because inevitably, you kept getting caught with your pants down. Literally.

It all came to a crashing when you finally had to say the dreaded sentence, the one you never thought you would say.

“Bucky I can’t have any more sex!” You yelped, rolling away from him and crawling across the bed.

“Doll?”

“Don’t touch me!” You wailed, diving under the cover and hiding beneath it.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, though it sounded a bit muffled.

“I’m not a super soldier, I don’t have super stamina and if you try to have sex with me again my vagina is going to disintegrate.” You huffed, curling into a ball.

You felt him move across the bed and prod the blanket until he figured out where your waist was under the duvet and did his best to hold you.

“We can slow down, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He said and even through the cotton covers you could hear the sadness in his voice.

“You didn’t hurt me, I’m just worn out. I want a baby, I really do but if we keep this up by the time I’m pregnant the baby will just fall right out.”

The bed shook and you knew he was laughing at you.

“Will you come out from under there, please?” He pleaded.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m scared if I do you’ll try to hump me.” You whined.

“I’ll control myself, I promise.” He said solemnly.

You wiggled up the bed until you could peek out over the top of the cover and found yourself face to face with him.

“Can’t you just… you know, wank yourself off and stick it in me when you’re nearly done?” You suggested half-heartedly.

He looked incredibly affronted by the suggestion.

“Fine. I’ll wank you off.” You huffed, freeing your hands and going for his belt.

“You’re not serious!” He said, batting your hands away.

You snorted out a laugh and he scowled at you.

“Of course I’m not serious, I just need to slow down. Just a tad.” You assured him.

“Ok, we’ll slow down. I’m sure 37 times in one week is a record anyway.”

“I don’t care what it takes, I don’t care if we actually do break my vagina in the process, we are getting pregnant. You take every damn opportunity, every single hard on and you put it to good use Barnes.” You ordered him, putting your hands on your hips.

“Just… not tonight.” You added as an afterthought.

~~~~~~~~~~Five and a half months later~~~~~~~~~~

“Cupcake delivery for my favourite girl!” Sam announced, presenting the white box to you with a flourish.

“Whatever you’re trying to bribe me for, you can have it!” You squealed, opening the box and carefully selecting a cake from it. As soon as you bit into the cupcake your face screwed up in disgust and you rushed over to the bin, spitting it out.

“I think they dropped like six extra bags of sugar into the batter.” You grimaced.

He took the cake of with an apologetic glance and bit into it.

“Tastes fine to me.” He said, chewing happily.

“Really?” You said derisively.

“Yeah. Tastes the same as always.” He shrugged, looking at you like you’d grown a second head.

You frowned, puzzled by your sudden distaste for one of your favourite treats.

“Your taste buds are weird today but more for me a guess.” He chuckled.

Your loud gasp made him jump.

“What? What happened? What’s wrong?” He demanded.

“I have to check something!” You exclaimed, rushing out of the room.

You sprinted through the corridors as quickly as you could and practically broke the bedroom door as you banged through it. You scrabbled through the bathroom drawers until you found the box of pregnancy tests and tucked it under your arm as you shimmied your jeans and underwear down.

As you peed, your mind was racing. You were probably getting your hopes up for nothing but you didn’t think so. There was a weird feeling in your gut, a certainty.

But what if you were wrong?

What if you were right?

You were dangerously close to hyperventilating as you carefully put the test down on the vanity and washed your hands, your eyes not leaving the test for a second.

“Friday, please tell Sergeant Barnes I need him, right now. It’s an emergency.” You said loudly.

“Right away, is everything ok?”

“Yes. No. It’s ok. Just tell him, please?”

“He’s on his way, I believe he just broke the gym doors.”

You jumped up and down on the spot, freaking out. You couldn’t look at the test anymore, it was taking too long and was mocking you. So you shoved it in the drawer, but you weren’t far enough away from it. You climbed into the bathtub and huddled inside it, for what reason you had no idea.

“Doll?” Bucky yelled, crashing into the room.

His eyes were frantic, his hair flying all over the place and when he saw you curled into a ball in the bath he only grew more worried.

“What’s wrong?” He demanded, hands running over you in case there was an injury he couldn’t see hiding somewhere on you.

“I don’t like cupcakes anymore.” You whispered.

“What?” He paused, looking at you like you’d lost your mind.

��“Sam bought cupcakes and I took a bite and it was gross but Sam said it tasted fine to him. My taste buds have gone weird.” You explained.

“The emergency is you don’t like cupcakes? Really? Doll, I nearly had a heart attack!”

“Bucky?”

“I broke at least three doors on my way here, I’m pretty sure Tony is going to kill me.”

“Look in the drawer.”

“What??”

“Please just look in the drawer… I can’t.” You said softly, pointing at the right drawer.

He looked between you and it anxiously before he stood up and opened it.

His whole body trembled violently and he let out a strangled noise.

“Is it… Bucky? Is it…?” You stuttered, standing up shakily.

He turned to look at you and you pressed your hands to your mouth to contain the sob that wrenched from you. His eyes were wide and glittering with tears as he held out the test. The test, with TWO clearly visible pink lines. You reached out to take it from him and the tears spilled over, running down your face as you held it.

He staggered towards you, wordlessly pulling you into his arms and you felt his shake as his own tears fell. He fell to his knees, hands on your hips and rested his head against your stomach.

“We’re pregnant.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N - YAYYY! Baby Barnes has been conceived!

#hattersmarvelverse #Bucky x Reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #pregnancy fic #Winter baby #bucky smut

459 notes · View notes

lokisgame · 5 years

Text

A Generous Donation [2]

[part 1]

A/N angst ahead

"Why are you still up?" Scully asked hanging her coat in the closet. Will's feet dangled from the armrest of the couch, game on tv played on mute. "Extra reading from professor Mulder, due tomorrow." "Oh, you won’t have class with Mulder tomorrow." "What?" Will looked at her over the edge of the book. "You broke my professor?" "I did not break him," she said, feigning outrage, "cold did, I only refereed." "Seriously, you have to stop messing with my college education." "It was dinner, nothing more." She smiled and stopped on her way to the kitchen, to lean over him and kiss his forehead. Will coughed. “You still have that cough?" “I'm fine," he sighed, catching his breath, "it’ll pass eventually.” “It's making me worried," she said softly, perching herself on the edge of the couch, "come to the clinic tomorrow, we’ll draw some blood, do an x-ray.” “Fun but I can’t, I’ve got school.” “You have an hour to spare,” she said, brushing fingers through his chestnut mane, “humour your mother.” “Fine, whatever.” He said and picked up his book. She left him reading and went to fix herself a cup of tea.

Mulder sipped coffee from a paper cup on his way to work. It's been a while since he talked to Scully and he was starting to feel the pull again, to pick up the phone and call and take her out to dinner. He didn't think he could be friends with a woman and it surprised him, how simple it was. Watching his friends and colleagues being dragged through courts by the very women they claimed to love forever, he never once felt the need to put himself through that. He had his job, his students, an odd girlfriend twice a year, he was content with his daily run, weekly basketball game at the Y, and semi-regular poker nights with the Gunmen. It was a happy life. But! If he could add some regular time with the good doctor he wouldn't mind. She was sharp and gorgeous and fun, and he didn't mind she had a kid, at all. He liked Will, so much that his absence from class was starting to worry him a little.

The coffee grew cold as he wrapped his last lecture that week. Will's empty spot like a gaping hole in the lecture hall, filling him with irrational sense of dread. He dismissed the class and as the students filed out, he caught Will's name in one of the conversations. "We should go see him," said a cute blonde, Kimberly something. "At the hospital?" Her friend said, taken aback. "Well, yeah." "Kimberly?" Mulder called, before she stepped out. "Yes, professor?" She said, batting her eyelashes at him, as usual. "Do you know why Will isn't coming to classes anymore?" "Oh, I was just talking about that," she said, her smile fading, "he got sick, apparently it's bad." "How bad?" Mulder's blood went cold. "I'm not sure, but I heard some talk about organising a blood drive so," she sighed, hugging her binder tight. "I'm sure he's going to be fine," Mulder said, trying to keep his tone warm, despite his instincts screaming at him that something was very wrong, "let me know, if you need any help with the blood drive." "We will, thanks." She forced a smile and followed after her friend. No wonder Scully didn't call in weeks, though it wasn't as if they agreed to anything, except keeping things casual. 'Well, screw casual," he thought, finding his way through the crowd and out to the parking lot. He had an appointment at the Boston General.

She didn't pick up her phone, which could only mean she was working. Boston lunch time traffic was a murder, but the drive felt too short anyway, his emotions still reeling when he entered the main clinic. A young nurse at the registration caught the worst of it. "Sir, I need you to calm down." She said for the third time. "You don't understand," he said, trying to force the panic back down, "I need to see doctor Scully, now." "Do you have an appointment?" "No, but," her kid is sick and I need to do something, he though then paused. Who was he to assume, he just wanted to know what was going on. "Just, tell me where I can find her." "Neurology ward, but," the girl began but he didn't listen. One glance at the directory on the wall and he was heading for the elevator.

He knocked on her office door, heard her call out and pushed the door. "Hi," he said sheepishly, doubts finally catching up to him. "Mulder," Scully said, rounding the desk, "is everything okay?" She reached out for him and he knew she did it unconsciously, guiding him to the couch and making him sit. For once he didn't find the lack of space funny. "Me? Are you?" He said folding her hands in his, "I heard about Will, how bad is it." "Oh God." She choked and he noticed her sunken face, worry lines on her forehead, dark bruises under her eyes. She looked like she would ever smile again and he pulled her into his arms. "It's okay," he said, gently stroking her back. "No, it's not, it's bad, he will need a bone marrow transplant." She shuddered on the last words. "There are donor banks," he soothed, holding her tighter, realising the chances, "tell me everything." "It was just a cough," she said, against his shoulder, "but then his blood work came back and his cell counts were abysmal. It all went down hill after that." "He's a strong kid," he tried, but really, what did he know, "he'll get through this." She crumbled in silence, melting into his arms, and he didn't know what else to do but hold her up. "It’s all mu fault," she whispered after a while, "God is punishing my pride." "What?" "I thought I could do it all by myself." "You did good," Mulder whispered, rocking her lightly. "And now I will loose him." “You won’t,” he said, a little more forcefully, drawing her closer, “and you're not alone, it’s gonna be fine.” "Mulder," she sighed. "Never give up on a miracle." He said, before reason sent her under again. He held her for long minutes, breathing her shampoo and hospital disinfectant. He knew he had no power to make this right, they had dinner a few times and the kid was his student, but something in his heart broke and he couldn't sit idly and watch them suffer. "Test me," he said once her silent tears dried out. "I can’t," Scully said, looking up, "I can't ask you for that." "And you can ask strangers?" He raised one eyebrow at her, and she softened a little. "We have the same blood type." "How do you know that?" "It came up in a discussion once," he shrugged, "I'm a universal donor, 0 negative, so test me." "There's more things to consider. The probability of finding a match," "Is zero if you don't try," he cut her off and she frowned, "c'mon, I'm sure you have that sterile swab thing here somewhere." "I do," she said. "Go get it then." She pulled away and got up, and he instantly felt better. Not because she was gone, but because he was finally doing something to help them. Scully rummaged through things in the glass cabinet and came back a minute later, plastic tune and a syringe in hand. "Blood will be better," she said. "You're the doctor," he said, and shrugged out of his jacket. Scully rolled up his sleeve and tightened the tourniquet above the elbow. She prodded around the crook of his arm for a few seconds and looked up. "Are you sure you want to do this? I won't hold it against you if not." "Do your worst." He said, confident as ever and she snapped on a pair of latex gloves, broke the seal on the needle and drew blood. He didn't flinch. She was that good. "There," Scully said a minute later, pressing a piece of gauze to the crook of his elbow, not letting go. "I know it's not the time to make vampire jokes," he said, "but there's definitely one in here somewhere." Corners of her lips went up for the first time since he walked in. "You should talk to Will about that," Scully said and the smile vanished again, taking last of Mulder's humour with it. She could stop his arm from bleeding, but not his heart, not with her hands at least, so he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers, gentle but solid, making his heart skip a beat, because she kissed back. "You won’t loose your kid," he said, leaning his forehead against hers, her breath on his lips warm and sweet. "I can't." She said and cupped his cheek, brushing one more kiss on his lower lip.

#generous donation #msr mini fic #x files fanfic #sweet nothings #angst

96 notes · View notes

forestwater87 · 6 years

Text

Gwenvid Week Day 5

Day 5: Community Appreciation / Favorite AU

To celebrate the amazing Gwenvid community, I took the really fascinating Ghoul AU that @color-theorist (or @color-theorist-art ) created, which has no explicit Gwenvid as of yet, and then somehow accidentally created several pages of momgwen with very little Gwenvid in it. Oops. And probably fucked up the lore. Double oops. Oh well, I hope y’all have fun anyway! :)

It wasn’t anything like Buffy, was the first thing Gwen realized about fighting monsters.

For one thing, it was a lot less fighting -- she wasn’t exactly built for dealing out pain -- and a lot more researching. And not in weathered tomes blanketed with a thick layer of dust with crinkled pages full of secrets. Sure, there was some of that, but ghouls in particular seemed to be a relatively new phenomenon, or were just so uninteresting to the ancients that they didn’t bother writing about them. Mostly it involved trawling internet forums and trying to arrange interviews with the leads who seemed the most promising. Which in itself required a great deal of convincing paranoid heroin addicts that she was neither a ghoul intent on devouring their flesh or a member of the government who would haul them off to Super Guantanamo. All that work, only to have her work dismissed by every publisher she’d recommended it to, and a pointed recommendation by the History Department chair that it would be best for her career at Sleepy Peak Community College if she found another subject to focus her studies on.

“‘It’s really all about the branding,’” she mimicked quietly, shifting her weight in a futile attempt to get comfortable. ”’Just call it “folklore.”’ That’s academically dis-fucking-honest, Mr. Bishop.” Gwen grabbed her bag from where it was dangling off the arm of a marble angel and hauled out a binder and a flashlight. “I’m the only professor under thirty who hasn’t gotten the fuck out of here after three months, Mr. Bishop. This shitty school wouldn’t even have a goddamn newspaper if it wasn’t for me, Mr. Bishop. Fuck, this is cold,” she muttered, glaring down at the polished granite with distaste before sliding down onto the grass, leaning back against the tombstone she’d just climbed off of. “I’m doing important work, here.”

Gwen opened the binder, eyeing the hand-drawn map of the Long Sleep Cemetery and tracing the scraggly line of bright red X’s that marked out fourteen ravaged graves, then flipping to a map of the entire city, which was covered in yellow dates around the church, hospital, and veterinary clinic. She glanced from these to the mausoleum she was staking out, like the ghoul would just appear there if she looked hard enough.

“Come on, asshole,” she said, flopping back against the tombstone and turning off the flashlight. “I know I did this right, so just show up where you’re supposed to.”

It was crazy, she knew all that. Knew her meticulous tracking of local robberies and vandalism looked from the outside like the scribblings of a madwoman fraying her last nerve. It was why she took so much care in repackaging every piece of evidence into a series of respectable, ponderous, academic -- boring, if she was being perfectly honest with herself -- books.

A series of respectable, academic, unpublished books.

Because this was all crazy. Believing in undead monsters that needed to consume the living (or recently-dead) was crazy. Objectively, she was probably rather crazy.

The thing was, she was right.

She just had to find a way to prove it.

“You’re not good at this, are you?”

Gwen jumped at the voice and whipped around, brandishing her flashlight in one hand and her binder in the other -- before she overbalanced and had to drop both, catching herself before she fell flat on her back in the dew-drenched grass. “Whaatherfucke --”

So. Not much like Buffy at all.

Her attacker was thin, stretched out and lanky like a very short Slenderman. As he stepped around the gravestone and moved towards her, his eyes reflected the light from a nearby streetlamp like a cat’s, gleaming out from underneath the dark hoodie that obscured most of his features.

Human eyes don’t glow like that.

She snatched up her flashlight and flicked it back on; she tried not to shine it in his face, but he flinched away from it anyway, hunching his shoulders and shoving his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. The light revealed a narrow brown face that was sickly yellow underneath the eyes and nearly gray in the hollows of his cheekbones. “Kids aren’t supposed to be out after ten pm,” she said, narrowing her eyes. She took in the teenager’s slouchy grace, the way he walked as though every movement was both naturally easy and indescribably exhausting.

“No one’s supposed to be in the graveyard after it closes, but that didn’t stop you,” he replied, slumping against the marble angel and watching her with those unnerving catlike eyes.

She’d found her ghoul.

Gwen drew herself up, standing so she could look down at him. “I have permission,” she lied. “I’m conducting research on the series of grave-robbings in the last few wee --”

“My dad’s a cop with really shitty password protection. You don’t have permission for shit.” He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. “You’re one of those nuts who wants to hunt vampires.”

“Ghouls aren’t vampires,” she corrected before she could stop herself, the pedantic need to be right temporarily overpowering her common sense. “Blood is evidently not an essential component of their diet, and -- you know what, this is a stupid conversation and I’m not having it.” She settled back against her tombstone and turned her gaze to the mausoleum her ghoul was supposed to be raiding instead of making snide comments about her profession. “Go get your dead person snack.”

The kid jolted, and she watched his look of horror out of the corner of her eye. “How the fuck --” He shook his head, a shock of floppy black hair escaping the hoodie and falling over one of his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

She pulled her binder back into her lap with a small grunt of effort. Christ, this thing was getting heavy. “Whoever’s been raiding the cemetery’s been really smart about it,” she said, refusing to look up at him. “Always hits it just as the attention is beginning to die down -- pardon the pun -- and always far enough from the others that the area is totally isolated. But they do it without making it look like a pattern.” She glanced up at him, a little gratified to see him leaning over her map curiously. So this was what validation felt like! “I’d been wondering how they knew when to sneak back in here, but . . . having a dad in the police force might do it, if the cop was dumb enough.” She turned to another section of her notes, an alphabetical list of everyone in the SPPD. “I knew I should’ve paid more attention to their families,” she mumbled, flipping through the officers. “Which of you is the idiot with an undead son?”

“Hey, fuck you!” he snapped, stepping away from the binder and back to the marble angel. “You can’t just go around calling people monsters because they’re wandering around a graveyard. Hell, that makes you sound just as much like one of those things as me.”

Gwen ticked off on her fingers without looking up from the police directory: “Alarmingly thin, glowing eyes, a bit of a nasty undead pallor -- bet people are constantly asking if you’re sick --”

“Again, fuck you.”

“-- and a tricky-but-predictable pattern of raiding cemeteries, morgues, and . . . have you been eating dead animals?” She glanced up at him then with a frown. “I didn’t know ghouls could do that.”

“They can’t,” he muttered, kicking at the grass, “but it was worth a shot.”

She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride. This was her first legitimate monster sighting! She wasn’t crazy! “It’s all circumstantial, of course. You never really know if you’ve got a ghoul or just someone with, like, lupus. But the cat-eye thing was a big tip off. Also, you know, hanging out in the cemetery when no one in their right minds would go anywhere near the place.” He looked at her for a long moment, and she cringed. “Yes, fine, I heard it.”

“So you’re like an expert in useless information no one gives a shit about, huh?”

She thought about getting offended, but he was kind of right. At least, a boatload of publishers would agree with him. “Yeah . . .”

He looked back over at the mausoleum thoughtfully, and she couldn’t help but be curious. “Does it taste good when it’s been dead for a while?” she asked. She was sorely tempted to grab her pencil and notebook, but that might scare the kid off. “I’ve read it’s not supposed to be as . . .” Nutritious just felt gross, in this context, so she let the sentence trail off.

He shrugged. “A little bland, but I kinda like it better. Got this weird kind of . . . cheesy aftertaste? Not like I’ve had cheese since I was a kid, but like that really smelly stuff rich people put on everything.”

“That’s pretty disgusting.” She couldn’t quite keep the note of appreciation out of her voice. (She’d always been a sucker for gory movies.) “So what’s with the change?”

“What’re you talking about?”

That was in her other binder. Gwen rustled through her backpack until she found the right one and opened it up to a spread of newspaper clippings. “All the killings. Two this week, three in the last two months. I haven’t put a map together yet --” and god, she already felt tired thinking about it, “-- but they don’t seem to have any sort of pattern. I figure it can’t be you because, well, all my research suggests that if you were eating fresh kills you’d be a lot more . . .” She gestured vaguely at him. “Alive-looking.”

He bared his teeth, and if they were sharper-looking than normal she was almost positive that was just her imagination. “You don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”

She didn’t, but that was beside the point. “So do you know who’s doing this?” she asked, scrambling to her knees and finally giving in to the urge to grab her pen. “Can you tell me? I interned as a police sketch artist, so even if you just describe them I bet I could --”

“You expect me to narc?”

“They’re killing people!”

“Eh, I --”

“Max?”

They were both blinded; squinting past the flashlight, Gwen could barely make out a male figure. The newcomer lowered the light, stepping forward. His eyebrows drew together as he took in the scene: a kid lounging on a tombstone, having a conversation with a woman kneeling in the damp grass surrounded by open books and binders. “What are you doing out here? You know it’s past curfew!”

The ghoul -- Max, it seemed -- rolled his eyes and sighed. “It’s not like you’re gonna arrest me. I just saw this weird lady sneaking into the graveyard and wanted to see what she was doing.”

As surreptitiously as she could, Gwen glanced down at the list of police officers in her lap, comparing the smiling photos to the grim-faced man shaking his head at Max. Officer David E. Greenwood. On the force for about ten years. According to some gossip she’d scribbled in the margin, he’d turned down the opportunity to become a detective a few years ago, holding onto his lower-paying desk job for the sake of his --

His son.

“Miss?” Greenwood waved the flashlight, dragging her attention back to the conversation. “I’m going to need to ask you to leave the --”

“Yeah, fine,” she grumbled, shoving her work back into her bag. “You know, I should get a special pass or something for doing research,” she said, more to herself than to the officer.

He cocked his head to the side, looking for all the world like a big puppy wearing a police badge. “Well, I’m afraid we can’t do anything like that, but I’d be very interested in learning what you’re researching!” He frowned. “Actually, you look familiar . . .”

“I used to be the department intern,” she said with a shrug. She was a little older than Greenwood, so it wasn’t like he’d have been working there to remember --

“Oh, Gwen! Yes, of course I’ve heard all about you!” He took a step forward, like he was about to wrap her up in a hug, before his smile dimmed a bit and he coughed lightly into his fist. “Mr. Campbell speaks very highly of you! He’s been saying he wishes more people would be willing to work for no money, but I’m sure he just meant that you did such a fantastic job! You work at the college now, right? You know, I’ve been meaning to take some classes but I just haven’t had the time --”

“Dad,” Max interrupted, “it’s cold as fuck. Can we just go?”

“Right! Sorry, Max.” He shot his son -- though they really looked nothing alike -- an apologetic grin before turning the smile toward her. “If you’ll just follow me, ma’am. Goodness, isn’t it lovely out here at night? Sometimes I wish . . .”

When they were outside, Max broke through Greenwood’s stream of pleasantries. “Hey, can I talk to her for a second before we go?” When they both shot him a confused, surprised look, he shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket, hunching his shoulders defensively. “What? We were in the middle of a conversation.”

Greenwood hummed thoughtfully, glancing between the two of them. “Well, I suppose there’s no harm. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Gwen.” He shook her hand enthusiastically.

“You too, officer.”

“Please, call me David!” He winked, then strolled along the outer cemetery wall until he was well out of earshot, his hands clasped behind his back like a military at-ease. Max scuffed his shoe along the asphalt; Gwen had dealt with enough students to know not to push him, so she watched the clouds slide like molasses along the sky and waited.

“You know a lot about this stuff, huh? Like, it’s useless, but you still have a lot of research.” She nodded, watching curiosity wage war with misanthropy across his face. Finally he blurted out, “So can I read some of it sometime? I mean, it’s probably mostly bullshit, but . . .”

She’d given up on carrying copies of her books around with her, on the off chance that someone might be interested if it came up in conversation. “I’m usually on campus at noon,” she said. “Stop by my office. I’ve got a couple things you could borrow.” She fought to keep the eagerness out of her voice, but the thought of her self-bound books actually being read by someone was way too exciting.

Even if that someone was a moody undead kid with the most improbable home life she’d ever heard of.

He nodded, a little awkwardly, and started to walk away before she put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, are you gonna be all right without eating?”

He shrugged. “Isn’t the first time.”

Gwen hesitated. It could get so so fired, but . . . “Listen, I work some nights at the hospital morgue. Just like, processing bodies and stuff.”

“I thought you were a professor.”

She sighed. “Adjunct,” she admitted. “Only part time. Anyway, I can’t always . . . like obviously we’d have to be really careful, and there’s no real good way to . . . but if there’s actual murderous ghouls around you probably shouldn’t be so hungry they’ll kick your ass or something --”

“How did you make offering help come out so insulting?” Max sounded impressed. He glanced over his shoulder at David, then raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. “We’ll work something out, yeah. Beats digging up coffins all night.”

David meandered back in their direction. “Would you like to be walked home, Miss Gwen? It’s not safe to be out alone at this time of night.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, sure.”

She knew how dangerous it was. Had written hundreds of pages on the subject, in fact.

But it was nice, for the first time in her life, to feel like she’d actually accomplished something useful.

“Dad wants you to come over for dinner again.”

Gwen jumped; Max had an infuriating tendency to just appear in doorways without a sound, usually when she was deep in concentration doing something else. She thought maybe he enjoyed scaring her. “I have class tonight,” she said, taking the book he held out, “but tell him thanks.”

Max slouched into the chair on the other side of her desk, watching her dig through her books for the next one in the series. Over the past few weeks he’d been going through her research, and while his habit of writing corrections or commentary in the margins -- with pen, no less! -- was unbelievably annoying, she was making more progress in two months than she had in years. “Second time this week,” he observed.

It took her a second to realize what he was saying. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I appreciate it. Seriously, make sure you thank him for me.” Dinners with Max and David were a little awkward, mostly because only David seemed to really want to be there, but it certainly beat microwave dinners in front of her computer.

“I think he likes you.”

She made a dismissive noise. “He likes everyone,” she said. In fact, she’d made it a personal goal to hear him say something unkind about somebody. It was unsuccessful so far, but she had faith. She handed him the next book, watching him turn it over in his hands appraisingly with something almost like nervousness. It was one thing to have someone read your life’s work -- it was quite another when the person reading your work was also literally the subject of it.

“So you’re gonna stop by after class, right?”

“I -- no?” Sure, sometimes Gwen did, if she’d forgotten to give Max something or if David’s texts had seemed especially plaintive; she got the sense that his life wasn’t as sunshine-and-rainbows as he tried to make it seem, and watching TV or sitting out on the porch after Max had disappeared into his room wasn’t much of a sacrifice. But it wasn’t a habit or anything. “Maybe I have shit to do.”

He snorted. “No you don’t.”

She didn’t, but she didn’t need to be reminded of the life she didn’t have by an obnoxious kid who literally had no life.

When she didn’t respond he stood up, tucking her book under his arm. “So I’ll tell Dad you’ll be by after class. And I’m gonna be at Neil’s tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“Ugh, don’t make me say it. It’s fucking gross.”

Gwen watched Max lope out of her office, wondering if he was aware that he’d just told her his father was lonely. And that it worried him.

“For fuck’s sake, just go out already!”

Her pen jerked a scraggly line across the paper, jagged and uneven like the sudden spike in her heart rate. “Why can’t you knock, you shitty excuse for a Halloween monster?” she growled, shoving her notebook aside and glaring up at him.

He set her book on her desk with surprising gentleness for someone who reportedly didn’t care about anything. “First, Dad is so goddamn annoying, and if I have to hear him talk about how ‘sweet that Miss Gwen is, don’t you think so, Max?’ one more time I’m gonna eat him. Second, it’d probably be easier to sneak me food if you were dating, since it’d be less weird for me to hang out with my stepmom.”

“I’m not going to ask David out so it’s easier for you to feed,” she said, bristling at “stepmom.”

“No, you’re gonna do it because you keep staring at him like a creep whenever you think he’s not looking. That’s third, by the way,” he continued, holding up three fingers. “The only thing more annoying than him being all moony and stupid is you being all moony and stupid.”

“That . . .” is not true was on the tip of her tongue, but somehow she just couldn’t bring herself to say it. The problem was, she’d gotten accustomed to spending more evenings a week at the Greenwoods’ house than her own, and had started to find it more comforting. Which didn’t mean that she was interested in David, of course, but she’d been . . . surprised, by him.

By his genuine interest in her, and his support of her research even though it clearly made him uneasy. (Which was fair; “hey I think those murders you’re investigating are undead monsters” was a pretty uncomfortable thing to talk about, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to listen.)

By how he remembered stupid little things, like her favorite foods, and how even when he was thoughtless and absent-minded it never seemed to piss her off the way it should.

By his horrible sense of humor and his worse taste in TV shows. By how his eyelashes were longer than hers, and framed his eyes so prettily. By the freckles she could only see when they were sitting thigh-to-thigh on the couch, or when he pulled her in for a goodnight hug. By --

Well, fuck.

“Everyone I know is a fucking idiot,” Max groaned, tugging her out of her heart-attack-inciting epiphany. He ran his hands through his hair -- glossy and sleek because he’d eaten last night; everything about him was glowing and lively compared to usual, making him look almost human -- and stood. “Don’t even bother getting me the next book. You can drop it off with Dad tonight.”

“But he didn’t invite me to dinn --” She cut herself off at the look of pure exasperation he gave her, one that implied he couldn’t even deign that with a response.

“Fucking idiots,” he muttered, slipping out of her office.

“Okay, I know I basically made this happen because you’re both too dumb to function, but I’m hating every second of this. I take it all back.”

David practically leapt out of Gwen’s chair, almost knocking her out of his lap and face-first into a concussion courtesy of the corner of her desk. “M-Max! What are you doing here?!”

She just sighed, adjusting her position so she wasn’t in danger of falling and brushing her hair out of her eyes. “He does this.”

“I’m a student, Dad. I belong here.” He held up the binder -- Gwen’s most recent book in the making -- with a sharp, sarcastic grin. He was looking a little gray and drawn, and she made a mental note to grab him some intestines or something that wouldn’t be missed at work that night. When he was looking sick like this, his inhumanness stood out in stark relief, like the crisp lines of his teeth that were too big and too pointy for his supposedly-human mouth.

“In high school! Why aren’t you in class?”

He shrugged. “Lunch break,” he said. Gwen and David exchanged a look, because neither of them knew if that was true. It’d been a while since either of them had been students, after all. Dropping the binder on Gwen’s desk, he retreated to the door like he was afraid to coming too close to them. “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

“Um . . . lunch break,” David replied weakly, his face flushing.

Gwen picked up a stress ball and lightly tossed it at Max’s head. “Get out of here, you little shit.”

“I hate you both. See you at dinner,” he said casually, ducking out of the office and letting the door bang shut behind him.

David sighed, shaking his head. “Do you think he looks sick, Gwen? I’m worried he’s coming down with something.”

She winced. “Probably a 24-hour bug. Bet he’ll be fine tomorrow,” she said, ducking her face into the crook of his neck and kissing behind his ear. Sometimes she couldn’t fathom how someone who knew about ghouls could miss the fact that his own son was one.

But then again, David wasn’t an academic, and he certainly wasn’t trained in this kind of thing. And he had a tendency to ignore red flags when it came to people he cared about.

It was one of the things she loved most about him.

#campcamp #camp camp roosterteeth #gwenvidweek #gwenvidweek2018 #cc gwen #cc max #dadvid #momgwen #christ this is awful #and that ending is very half assed bc I got worn out #but uhhhh #sorry ct #you deserve better #but have this instead

84 notes · View notes

hetalia-text-messages · 6 years

Text

My Pride Story

Trigger warning: Mentions of self-harm and suicide.

This is hard to talk about, but here I go.

I started middle school in August of 2012 after a horrible two years. In 2010 I had been diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome and anxiety. In 2011, I was diagnosed with depression. I contemplated suicide daily and planned so many things. I wrote my note. Obviously I ended up not going through with it, thank god I’m here today.

My reason? Bullying. So much bullying. I had no friends after I lost my only one in 2008. She moved away without telling me. No friends made me an easy target, I suppose. No one could protect me or tell people to leave me alone.

I didn’t care about anything. I was an emotionless, hollow shell. I didn’t smile or laugh, or find anything stimulating. No hobbies. School was just hell. I passed everything, but it all moved so slowly. That’s also how I moved; slowly. Just trying to get through each day.

Loser, idiot, slut, whore, creeper, worthless, waste of space, I was called everything you can think of. We were ELEVEN. Kids can be horrible. I’m not sure everyone realizes that. It’s a problem.

“Kill yourself.” That was one I heard a lot. I turned to self-harming, but only twice. I didn’t like it. I still heard those two words every day. I came so close to listening multiple times. But I didn’t do it.

Back to middle school. I was quiet and painfully shy, but I made my first friend in years within two days. Her name was Sarah, but I now know him as Allen. He had been homeschooled until that year, so I helped him.

My second friend was Emma. There were so many students in my gym class, two people would have to SHARE lockers. Guess who I shared my locker with? She showed me her passion for writing and drawing, which reminded me of my old passion that had burned out. I picked up a pencil again and worked.

I drew and drew, and we traded pictures at sleepovers. “What should I draw?” Emma would ask. “Draw Tamama!” I shouted. We went back and forth until we got tired and her playlist full of Passenger and TØP ran out. We slept in the same bed. We were so close, people thought we were sisters.

It was seventh grade when I realized people saying that made me feel hurt.

Now, I didn’t really know anything about the LGBT+ Community. Hell, I hardly knew what it meant to be gay. I was ten when I first saw shonen-ai (which I mistakenly referred to as “yaoi” for many years), and I just thought “aw cute” and moved on. No one ever taught me about those things.

All my past crushes had been boys who never returned the feelings, so it confused me when I felt like that for a girl. I thought it was wrong, because I viewed Emma as a good little Christian girl who would never sin. I wasn’t religious, so I didn’t know how correct or incorrect I was.

One day she asked me who my crush was when I was at a club meeting. I couldn’t lie to my best friend, so I decided to tell her to wait until I got home. I locked myself in my room and just dropped hints for a while, getting more and more frustrated as she got more and more confused. I finally said “Emma” but she thought I was talking about another Emma. I was typing the words so hard as my hands shook.

“It’s YOU!”

“What?”

If you guys want some dramatic confession from her and us living happily ever after, too bad. That’s not what happened, life sucks. Get over it.

Emma is straight as a board, while I’m straight as a board broken in half with nails sticking out of it.

In 2014, I was starting to get a grasp on sexuality. Around the same time, I was given a warning by, guess who, Emma.

“Hey, Anna? I know you get into fandoms easily and become obsessed with them, so please don’t watch this anime called Hetalia. Okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.”

LIES!

I became intrigued after reading her crackfic. I needed to learn more. Stupid me accidentally saw World series first, then Axis Powers.

Then I realized there was a dub the whole time.

I like dub, shh.

Holy crap who is this adorable boy?! Japan, huh? Cool. Then who’s that cute boy? Russia. And-fuck it, they’re all attractive.

I think the first thing I wrote was USUK, since I finally had shipping down. It was called Libertea, and It SUCKED. I deleted it, so you can’t find it. The second thing I wrote was FrUK crack, which is still available. Not linking it, go find it yourself.

So I’m browsing the tumblr as usual when I saw a blog called aph-texts. Then I saw aph-texts-from-nordics. They were hilarious, and a thought came to mind.

“Holy shit, I wanna do that!”

So I stole borrowed the concept like an asshole a good person and made a couple on my main blog. When they blew up, I realized I had something. Boom, this blog was born.

As a plus, I realized who I was. A bisexual teenage girl. Things were looking great, until some people found out about that. They didn’t bug me, but they bugged Emma.

“Did you hear Anna is bi? Oh my god, does that make you bi too?”

This is why I keep my sexuality a secret. Not for me, for my friends. I’m not ashamed, I rocked that gay pride parade float our GSA Club made. It was nice to know who I was.

Except I didn’t know who I was.

I felt what I discovered was called “gender dysphoria”. I was always a bit of a tomboy, but suddenly things made sense. But I pushed it to the back of my mind and pretended it didn’t exist.

In 2017, I realized I was actually pansexual. I don’t give a shit what your gender is, I’ll love you anyways. After that, I realized I was asexual all this time. Again, things made sense. I was disgusted at the thought of sex, and the one time I tried to watch porn made me sick. But you do you.

I combined the two and made panromantic asexual, which is where I stand to this day. Something still wasn’t right, though. The gender dysphoria had grown until I couldn’t ignore it anymore, and this time I accepted it in early 2018.

I was a trans male.

I am a trans male!

Things were complete!

Haha, no. Did you really think it would be that easy?

I may go by Aaron Desmond and use he/him pronouns and have short hair, but that is hardly scratching the surface. Every day I see my breasts and get angry and sad. I need to pick up the binder I secretly ordered.

My friend Mark doesn’t approve. He’ll always see me as a girl, and find my sexuality wrong. “How can people not like sex?” Well, I just don’t. He’s going away for a while with no internet, so it gives me time to think about where our friendship will end up.

There’s still so many questions on what do do next. Bind? Top surgery? Testosterone? Bottom surgery? Packer (eh probably not)? How do I do any of this?

Emma tells me I can pass as a boy, but it seems a lot of people disagree. My voice gives it away. It was always kinda deep for a girl’s, but not deep enough.

HOLY SHIT I SOUND LIKE HARUHI FROM OHSHC

There’s really not much else to say, this is where I currently stand.

Sarah, now a boy named Allen. Emma, a girl I’m still deeply in love with no matter how much I deny it. Mark, a boy that couldn’t understand or respect me. My followers, who still support and love me.

And that’s my story that went on for way too long.

Happy Pride Month.

#trigger warning #tw #trigger warning: suicide #tw: suicide #trigger warning: self harm #tw: self harm #LGBT+#Pride Month #pansexuality #pan #panromantic #asexual #ace #transgender #trans #ftm

177 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 6 years

Text

cute boi {biadore} - imafuckinglibra

Meow meow bitches did someone ask for a biadore fic ft trans Danny? No they did not but you know what I’m a little trans boy with a crush on another little trans boy so yeah. Deal with it. Inspired by true events that’s all I’m gonna say on that enjoy tw dysphoria duh bc I’m a dysphoric piece of shit k bye

“Hm…uh-uh.” Danny protested when a loud ringing and something vibrating on his sternum woke him up.

He slapped his chest till he found his phone to turn off his alarm, rolling over with it in his fist to try and get 5 more minutes of sleep before his second alarm went off.

Once it did he noticed a notification on his screen of someone who tagged him in something and immediately sprung up.

[@ i_adore_u : @ nottodaysatan tagged you in a post ]

He rubbed his overly tired eyes a few times to get them to focus on the pencil drawing of the faceless selfie he posted the night before of himself in bed.

The beautiful thick graphite outlines framing every curve of muscle on his slender back and ass poking out under the covers of his blankets contrasting the delicate fine shading.

@ i_adore_u: You fucker! You drew me!

He quickly typed out a message in his dms towards the artist who drew him. He didn’t know much about this nottodaysatan guy except that his artwork was almost as intimidating as trying to talk to him was.

He’d been following him for some time and pretty much stalked his page non stop when he needed some inspiration for his own work.

His lines were always pristine, his way of curving every muscle of whoever he drew next so unlike any other and the way he could add so much intricate detailing to fabrics was just honestly mind boggling.

And as an added bonus he seemed like an albeit scary, genuinely nice guy. They had talked a few times, complimented each other’s work, talked about artists they admired or exchanged drawing tips but that was pretty much all he knew about the stranger.

@ nottodaysatan: Good morning to you too.

@ nottodaysatan: And yes I did, I thought it was cute so I had to

Typing…

Danny smiled at the flashing dots and reluctantly pushed himself up to roll out of bed. Scruffing his long hair up between his pale fingers as he walked towards the bathroom grabbing the black briefs with his stp neatly tucked into it laying next to his bed in the process.

“Morning.” His roommate, Tyler, sang from the kitchen of the small apartment when he passed him.

“Hm.” He nodded stepping into his underwear after he closed the door behind him.

“I made coffee!” Tyler yelled.

“Coffee…” He yawned while he peed. Looking down with a scowl at the silicone prosthetic poking out from his Rodeoh’s as he did. “I hate you.”

After insulting his crotch he stood in front of the mirror with his hands on either side of the sink examining his appearance.

His unruly dark, chin length brunette hair framing his soft cheeks and exhausted puffy eyes.

“You decent?”

“You care?” He yelled over his shoulder scoffing at the fact that his roommate would even ask at this point after seeing him naked so many times before.

“I brought the java.” Tyler placed the chipped black cup down next to him but he intercepted it and immediately took a hard swig of the hot coffee. “You have 2 minutes before we need to leave by the way.”

“Why? It’s so early.” He whined at him.

“Because you overslept you beautiful little bitch and it’s like 11 the fuck you mean?.”

“Shut up.”

He turned back to the mirror standing up straighter this time and turning side to side to examine his chest.

“Think it’s a tape day.” He groaned digging through the medicine cabinet for the bright orange packet labeled KT Tape.

“Only 2 more weeks, babe.” Tyler tickled his sides trying to get a smile from him. “Can I put your hair in pigtails while you do the thing?”

“Yes please.” He finally smiled at his friend and dumped the last 2 strips of snipped black tape out onto the counter.

While Tyler was behind him securing his hair in small braided pigtails either side of his head with chunky black hair ties he went to work snipping one of the strips in half.

Placing it an inch or 2 from his nipple he pulled it back against his ribs and secured the tape and his left breast against his side.

Tyler was right, in 2 more weeks he’d finally be getting top surgery and he’d never again have to worry about tape, binders or wearing 70 layers of shirts to hide his chest.

“You going to draw a new one?”

“Already did.” Danny answered while he secured the other strip in the same spot on his right side. “That’s why I overslept, I worked all night on it. I’ll post it later though.”

“Okie dokie. Happy 3 years.” Tyler took a break from his braiding to hug him while Danny let the significance of those words sink in.

This week marked his 156th shot of testosterone that he’s had to inject into his upper thigh. It just so happens the anniversary of it falls around the same time as pride month so each year he’d draw his body and the progress it’s made instead of taking a photo like most of the other trans posts he saw.

“By the way cute guy totally drew me.” He quickly changed the subject as he tucked his plain black shirt into his jeans before they left the apartment.

“You’re late.” Their friend Jason scolded when they opened the door and spotted him tapping his foot waiting for them while their other friends smoked on the stairs outside.

“Only by…” Tyler checked his phone’s time. “2 minutes.”

“2 minutes is still 2 minutes too late.” Jason snapped at him making them both panic.

“It’s Danny’s fault! He overslept, yell at him!”

“Hey! Way to throw me under the damn ocean.”

Tyler pulled up his shoulders but when they saw Jason still glaring at them they quickly ran down the stairs to avoid another scolding.

“I could never yell at this angel baby.” Jason cooed throwing his arm around Danny’s shoulders when he reached them on the curb.

If Danny had been paying attention he’d probably have made some smug comment to rub the special treatment he got from their unbearably anal friend in but reading the message he had received while getting ready was just far more important.

@ nottodaysatan: I wanted to ask you something. A whole bunch of other artists are doing this pride thing and I don’t really know what to draw but a friend suggested I do a piece of me kissing someone? Would you be interested if I drew you?

“Cute guy distracting you?” Tyler teased.

“Who’s cute guy?” Aaron on the other side of them asked making Danny blush.

“I don’t know if he’s cute or not, I’ve never seen his face but his drawings are super cute. He’s just this like really, really good artist that I’ve been following for like ever.” He explained trying not to give his infatuation away.

“Stalking him you mean.” Tyler scoffed making ooh’s arise from the rest of the group.

“Shut up!”

“You shut up!”

“No, you!” The roommates began bickering back and forth when Jason’s palm across the back of Tyler’s head broke them up.

“Bitch!” The shorter boy yelped. “Slap him too!”

“Never.” Jason kissed Danny’s forehead which made him giggle and stick his tongue out at Tyler.

He frowned at them and mumbled something about being unloved but was promptly shut up when Danny’s arm swept his legs out from under him and the other was placed behind his back.

He spun him around in a circle once or twice till Tyler broke face and laughed it off before they continued walking to the big college building where their class for the new semester was.

He did however refuse to put Tyler down once while they made their way across campus earning them a few glances from passing students.

It was still the 2nd week of their 2nd year and because their new classes were in a strange building Aaron and Danny, who were both music majors, asked Jason to tag along in case they couldn’t find their way back.

Since Jason was studying design he’d been in the building in question during their first year and knew his way around it much better.

Tyler didn’t actually study anything there but he worked part time in the cafeteria so he’d usually walk with them just to keep an eye on Danny. Not that he didn’t trust him or anything but he knew how easily distracted the pizza loving mermaid was and after the 5th time that he got lost on campus he vowed never to let him walk alone again.

When they all finally separated Danny and Tyler dragged out their goodbye like a mom saying goodbye to her kid on the first day of school.

Danny fake cried trying to be as overly dramatic as humanly possible even throwing his arms around his short friend’s shoulders as Tyler screamed some barely audible babbles about his baby growing up.

“Don’t die! I love you!” He shouted behind him when they finally did part as Danny watched him walking away waving at him.

“I want extra cheese on my fries for lunch!”

“I got to go too.” Jason tapped Danny’s shoulder while he was placing his order.

“Okay. See you for lunch? Pretty please?”

“Sure, I don’t think I have anything around then.” Jason smiled at him before he turned to leave.

“Bye, babe.” Danny pulled him back for a hug but let go just in time for Aaron to finish saying good morning to his first year boyfriend, Justin.

Despite their dawdling in the hallways by the time they took their usual seats way at the back by the door the lecturer still hadn’t arrived so Danny started scrolling through his favorite artist’s feed again to ease his boredom.

@ nottodaysatan: You know I’ll need a photo of you if I’m going to be drawing you?

@ i_adore_u: Right sorry.

He had completely forgotten to even reply to his crush but seems it wasn’t necessary, he must’ve read his mind or something and knew it was a yes.

Danny quickly scrolled through his phone looking for the selfie he took before they left hoping it looked decent enough to impress his crush. Even though he thought he looked down right adorable with his braids, the small brimmed hat tilted back on his head and the cute bag thrown over his shoulder resting against his hip.

@ nottodaysatan: Thanks. Not bad 😜😉😬

He bit his thumb to hide the grin forming at the corners of his mouth from the less than subtle compliment before he decided to take a risk.

@ i_adore_u: Why don’t we make it fair and let me draw you too?

Typing …

He instantly regretted his decision when he saw the floating dots and tried doing damage control as quickly as possible.

@ i_adore_u: I don’t want to you to go through the trouble and not get something in return that’s all

The flashing icon at the bottom left of the screen disappeared and Danny’s heart dropped right out of his ass.

‘I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up.’ He started internally chanting, cursing his own stupidity when his phone buzzed again.

@ nottodaysatan sent you a message

@ nottodaysatan: Seems fair. Sorry I’m in class so can’t take a better one.

Danny had to resist doing a little happy dance when he saw the message but especially when he opened it and saw the selfie he had sent.

“Cute guy.” He whispered when his mouth dropped open at the sight of the most beautiful tan man he’s ever seen.

He was in a white tank top with messy black hair and looked down at the camera with big dark brown eyes and a hint of a smile at the corners of a his gorgeously full pink lips framed by dimples and some light scruff.

@ nottodaysatan: Make me look good or I’ll kill you 😉😠😜

@ i_adore_u: Meanie ☹️☹️

Danny typed out followed by another selfie of him pursing his lips, pulling the best emoji like face he could that he quickly took just as the lecturer was walking in.

Before he could check the response Shane, his musical theory lecturer, started the presentation. Instead of paying attention however Danny took out his sketchbook and a red pencil and began drawing them.

At first he started innocently enough with a reference of a picture he and Tyler had taken over the weekend where they were on their couch together. Tyler’s arms around his neck and his lips against his forehead, perfect for an innocent enough doodle.

The longer he was looking at the picture of cute guy though the more his mind started to wander and eventually he began drawing a second one just for himself.

This time using his fantasies as reference while imagining what those puffy lips would feel like against his own or the way his fingers would caress the back of his neck.

“I open my eyes and see his head burried between my legs…I grab his hair and pull his face even closer into my cro…”

“Hey!” Someone barked followed by a very loud, very hard open palmed slap on the metal table they were sitting at which made Danny nearly jump out of his seat.

“I was singing out loud again, wasn’t I?” Danny apologetically smiled at the circle of friends sitting around the table when he realized where he was.

He had missed the entire lecture too lost in his drawing and by the time the hour was over he had finished the drawing of them kissing and was working on cleaning it up on his iPad while they sat outside for lunch. How he got there in his zombie like haze was still a mystery though.

“Yes.” They all dryly answered in unison.

Danny had a very, very bad habit of singing out loud whenever he got too lost in his work and seems like many a countless times before he ended up not only embarrassing himself again but his friends too.

“And you were singing The Wet Dream.” Aaron next to him grinned mischievously.

“Why did I ever listen to that stupid album you gave me?” Danny groaned dropping into his palms to hide his insanely flushed face.

He made a vow right then and there to never, EVER ask Aaron for music suggestions again. The last recommendation he gave was a Lords of Acid CD that only seemed to get him into even more trouble than usual. Case in point.

“Are you going to talk to us or just draw that all day?” Brian asked stealing one of his fries.

“I just have to finish this outline then I’ll be all yours.” He slapped Brian’s hand away and popped a fistful of cheesy fries that Tyler crisped up a little extra for him into his mouth. “How it look tho far?”

He sat back a bit so his friends could lean over and look at the drawing of cute guy’s lips brushing over his with his hand around his throat. Their lips only connected by the small string of saliva Danny added but their bodies pressed tightly together sitting in each other’s laps with their legs interwoven.

“Hey, Roy.” Jason tilted his head up to greet someone behind Danny, who at first he disregarded until the person spoke.

“It’s pretty.” An unfamiliar gravely voice commented.

“Thanks.” Danny turned to thank whoever, presumably the guy his friend greeted, it was for the compliment but when he looked behind him there was nobody there.

Instead the stranger plopped down onto the empty seat next to Danny with his crossed elbows hitting the table. His big, perfect teethed smile framed by dimples which made Danny’s head spin. “Hi.”

“Cute guy.” He whispered in disbelief feeling his face turn pale as if he’s see a ghost.

“Name’s Roy actually but that works too.” He laughed nodding his head. “I thought I’ve seen you around before. If I knew we went to the same college I’d have said hello sooner.”

“Um…” Danny’s mouth flapped open and shut for a few seconds like a fish out of water before he looked to Jason in fear.

“Danny, that’s Roy he’s a 4th year. Roy that’s Danny, he’s shy.” Jason clarified pointing to each boy as he introduced them.

“So listen, I sketched something in…”

“I gotta’ go.” Danny interrupted him and with his iPad in hand he ran off towards the other side of campus for his commercial music class.

Roy wanted to run after him but his legs locked up when he realized how desperate and uncool it would look.

“Sorry for scaring of your friend.” He looked to the students around the table, tapping the metal with his index finger to drown out the awkward silence when nobody responded.

“I know how you can make it up.”

When Danny got home after his last class, too embarrassed of his behavior at lunch but even more from the fact that cute guy, Roy, saw what he drew of them Danny decided a nap was probably the best option.

Well embarrassment and the fact that he didn’t sleep more than about 3 or 4 hours the night before and his body wasn’t taking the fatigue well.

He woke up very grumpy 2 hours later when he heard his friends in the living room chattering and making themselves lunch and walked out ready to give them an earful for so rudely interrupting his peaceful afternoon nap.

“You mother fucking cocksuckers!” He yelled swinging his door open but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a new face amongst the group of boys.

“Hey. Cute briefs.” Roy raised a hand to wave but before he actually could Danny ducked back into the room slamming the door shut abruptly behind him.

‘Fuck me running.’ He closed his eyes praying this was a bad dream. No way did the cute guy he’s been crushing on for over a year even before seeing his picture just see him without a shirt on.

He was going to laugh at his taped down chest any second now he knew it. The sooner Roy left the better that’s the only solution. He’d leave and they’d never speak again.

Or he’d leave and tell everyone what a gross freak he was.

‘Shit!’ He threw the book closest to his reach against the bed.

“Something I said?” Roy asked when Danny came back out after calming himself, this time with his shirt on and his jean half hazardously pulled up.

‘God he’s cute.’ Roy shifted in his seat at the sight of him, making sure it wasn’t too noticeable by leaning for his cup of coffee in the process.

“No.” Danny pouted walking into the kitchen before returning with a beer and making sure to stand on the other side of the room away from him.

Roy took a sip from his cup to collect his thoughts so he could perfectly and effortlessly recite the excuse he had prepared as to why he was in his apartment.

“Just came over to talk about those drawings. Thought maybe we could do a collab? You can work on the shading and color since your digital shading is phenomenal and I don’t have a tablet or anything and then I can do the fabrics and bodies.”

“I don’t want to work with you.” Danny blurted out in the coldest tone he could muster given his embarrassed state.

“You don’t?”

“I just don’t like your like energy man.”

If he had looked up from the tab of his beer can that he was fiddling with he’d have seen the hurt expression on Roy’s face.

The sting of rejection hitting a nerve straight down to the center of Roy’s being, gnawing at his ego causing his go to cold defensiveness to rear it’s ugly head.

“Right, I’m sorry what’s your name again?”

This caught Danny’s attention. He looked up from his fidgeting and stomped back into his room. “Get out of my fucking apartment.” He snarled slamming the door shut.

Danny heard some commotion outside his room but decided it wasn’t his problem, bad enough he just insulted the guy he had a crush on and told him to leave he didn’t want to face the consequences or admit he overreacted too.

“What the hell is your problem?” The door flew open and Roy barged in.

He couldn’t leave it there, he should’ve but he couldn’t. If someone was going to reject him like that they better give him a damn good reason. Actually if Danny was going to reject him like that that was the case. Anyone else he’d probably just had read them and left it there.

“I told you to leave.”

“Answer me then and I will.” The shorter man stood his ground folding his arms with a brow raised waiting for him to answer after he closed the door for privacy.

“Maybe I just don’t like y…”

“And don’t give me that bullshit answer again.”

Danny stood still for a second trying to center his thoughts before he took a deep breath and blurted out his feelings. “Fine! I have a crush on you!”

“So you’re 9?” Roy snorted. “You like me so you tell me you don’t like me? Yeah, real fucking logical.”

“No I just…” Danny looked down feeling ashamed of not only his actions but his body. “You saw, stuff. Stuff that I didn’t want you to see.”

‘Stuff?’ Roy quickly deduced what he meant and without thinking blurted it out.

“Your chest?” Roy’s harsh voice softened as he slowly approached him as if he was a wounded animal who might run any second. He placed his hands either side of Danny’s hips, looking into his eyes for permission before he touched him.

Danny’s heart began racing uncontrollably fast, the butterflies in his stomach now in a complete chaotic frenzy as Roy’s brown eyes flicked between his.

Slowly, delicately almost his hands slid up his sides underneath his shirt, lifting the fabric to reveal first his abdomen with the fuzz down the center before he exposed his taped down chest.

“You mean this?” He knew what he was doing was completely irrational and way too unlike himself but something inside him couldn’t stay away from this boy.

What he knew his words could never sufficiently express he gave over to his actions. He needed to reassure him of how beautiful his body was and that he never had to be ashamed of it.

“Yeah.” Danny nodded looking away from him. “Why do you even care if I like you or not?”

Roy tilted his head up to lean in closer, close enough that Danny could feel his nervous, rapid breathing against his lips.

“Because I like you…” Roy whispered into his parted lips before they made contact with his.

Instinctively as their lips passionately made up for every second of yearning Danny’s body melted into Roy’s.

But when his hands came up to hold onto the shaved back of Roy’s head he unexpectedly jumped away and released the fabric of his shirt.

“Shit I…sorry.”

Danny wanted to question why he pulled away so out of the blue or more importantly why he kissed him at all but before he could Roy, now a bright red, was already on his way out the door.

“Hey? Wha…what was?” He tried following the boy speeding out the apartment’s front door but for such a short guy he was actually surprisingly fast.

“I have to go.” Roy shouted never looking behind him as he ran down the steps. “Sorry!”

Danny was simply left staring at the now empty street where he swore he still saw Roy’s dust cloud like some cartoon character after a hasty escape.

“What did you say to him?” Jason came to stand behind him.

“Nothing. He just kissed me and, and ran.”

“He kissed you?” His friends all shouted and he turned around unsure who to look at or answer.

“Yeah?”

“He kissed you? Like, on the lips?” Tyler repeated the question.

“Which lips?” Aaron smiled making Justin smack his chest.

“Yeah which lips though?” He asked too.

“Jason.” Danny disregarded them and turned to his skinny friend placing his hands on his shoulders to look him in the eyes. “Tell me everything you know about him.”

“Howdy howdy.”

“I fucked up.” Roy sighed into the mic of the white headphones hanging either side of him.

“What now?” His blonde friend on the screen raised both brows hiding his mouth behind his cup of tea.

Roy dropped his head into his palm, running his fingers through his unruly black hair getting ready to explain everything, not just to Shane but to himself as well.

“Remember that artist I follow? The one with the pencil sketches that he digitally shades?”

“Sure, let’s say I do.”

“I was right, he does go here.”

“Oh. Do I know him? What’s his name?”

“Danny something. He’s really tall, real slim, long dark brown hair…gorgeous.” He tried his best to regain some form of composure but picturing him as he explained just turned him back into jelly.

“Danny Noriega. He’s in my musical theory class, really good kid.”

“You do know him…never mind then I’ll talk to you when I get home.” He tried hanging up their FaceTime call but Shane stopped him.

He took a sip from his starbucks cup and looked around at the other scattered about students waiting for their drinks in the courtyard. He knew it was preposterous but he still felt embarrassed at the thought that any of them might actually be listening and see he had a heart. A heart he never showed and had no intention on showing any more of.

“This morning I met him and he ran away, so logically I went to his um, apartment and yeah we kissed.”

He watched the grin on his roommate’s face grow insanely bright making him roll his eyes.

He was usually so in control and composed, how did he let things get so out of hand and let his emotions take over like that? Roy never even liked anyone or had hookups, he didn’t have time for feelings and romance and all that other mushy crap.

He focused on his studies and his art and that was that. He was a 4.0 student who’s never even gotten a B and made damn sure it stayed that way by remaining locked only on what was important, his studies.

Yet here he was frantically calling his roommate after running out the apartment of a boy he kissed the same way he did after his first kiss ever in middle school.

He was embarrassed? Him?

The same guy who’s life motto was ‘Never let a bitch see you sweat.’? How did that happen?

Sure this way of thinking was how he got his reputation of being the no bullshit person he was, and yes some took it as confidence and others as cocky but either way people respected him and that was all that mattered.

But Danny did something to him. He had managed to turn him into a total nervous mess with one simple kiss.

“What’s up?” He heard the last person he wanted to even think about speak on the other end behind Shane. The voice of ‘it’ only making him sink even lower into his seat.

“Roy’s sharing his feelings.” Shane smiled at his boyfriend leaning up for a kiss before both men turned back to him.

“Feelings are for ugly people.” Willam snarled but Shane hit his shoulder and told him to zip it.

“Agreed.” Roy nodded tilting his head into his hand. “So how about we forget I have them and I’ll see you at home?”

He cut Shane off mid sentence by hanging up and instead took out his textbooks and sketch pad to start working on the upcoming project he had due. Anything to distract himself from the beautiful creature that was Danny Noriega.

The less he thought about him the better.

His usual method of distraction didn’t work so great this time though, all he could do was think about those lips and the way the petite chest rose and fell when he lifted Danny’s shirt or the way the faint muscles on his abdomen flinched when he touched him.

His sketch of a boatneck gown with elegant filigree like detailing soon turned into a drawing of Danny with his hands tied above his head with the same fabric as his gown. His small chest with the black strips covered in hickeys and bites.

‘Fine! I have a crush on you!’ Danny’s words echoed in his mind as he etched the blushing around his bites in with his red pencil.

‘You saw, stuff. That I didn’t want you to see.’

Stuff.

His mind wandered further to the feel of his soft skin under his fingertips as he outlined the muscle of his pec. Honestly what stuff did Danny even worry about? His chest was so petite that Roy doubted even when it wasn’t taped down it would look any different.

‘I wish you could…’ His train of thought got interrupted by his phone lighting up making his heart skip a beat.

He braced himself first before looking down at the device, some part hoping that maybe Danny would’ve dm’d him or something.

‘Of course not.’

He felt like an idiot for ever even thinking that, if you run out on somebody after exposing something he was clearly very self conscious about why would he ever want to talk to you again?

He didn’t mean any malice by it he just truly didn’t care and he wanted to try and show Danny that. Clearly a failed lame attempt to make him feel better about himself.

He couldn’t think about this anymore though it was giving him too much of a headache so instead he turned his phone on airplane mode and turned on his music to zone out any further spiraling thoughts.

With no further distractions Roy eventually got so lost in his sketching that he worked through about 4 more cups of coffee before he called it a night and packed up his stuff.

But on his way home he couldn’t get Danny off his mind again and decided to take a chance and message him. What’s the worst that could happen right?

Danny couldn’t sleep that night, his mind was too plagued with everything that had happened that day and thoughts of his rushed kiss with Roy.

“Roy…”

Jason had told him what little he knew of him like how he was a New York native ish, unlike the rest of their friend group, and how he’d been a legend amongst the other design students for his incredible garments and impressive work ethic.

For example at the end of every semester the college would put on an exhibit of the work they did and Roy’s work has never been skipped over once in the four years that he’s been there. Apparently the other lecturers even used him as an example for what the others should stride to be.

‘No. Sleep, I need sleep.’ Danny scolded himself when he found himself halfway through Roy’s feed again. He switched off his lights, turned on some music and put his phone to one side to try his absolute best to calm his mind and actually sleep.

When he realized it was a futile attempt and that he’d probably never fall asleep at this rate he, out of habit, reached for his go to cure for insomnia, which pretty much meant reaching down his boxers.

As he closed his eyes thinking back on Roy’s lips he wrapped his index finger and middle finger around his growth, which was rapidly growing more erect the intenser his fantasies became.

“Fuck…Roy…” He moaned through broken breathing when he took his now fully erect growth between his fingers and began jerking himself off faster, rubbing his head with his thumb with every pass.

“Fuck me.” His moans grew louder when he brought his other hand up towards his nipples, squeezing the small pink nub tightly as he bucked his hips into his fingers.

He slid his feet up curling his knees up shut together as the thought of Roy’s puffy lips engulfing his growth overtook his mind.

He wanted to feel him, every single part of him. His hands on his skin, his dick in his mouth, those gorgeously full lips on his - everything.

Before he could enjoy his rapidly building up release he felt his phone vibrating next to his head about 3 or 4 times and panicked thinking it meant a call, probably from his mom since she was then only person to call him ever.

@ nottodaysatan: Sorry I ran out I shouldn’t have panicked and just left like that but I like you too

@ nottodaysatan sent you a message

@ nottodaysatan: I finished that drawing of us to make it up to you

@ nottodaysatan sent you a message

@ nottodaysatan: Okay maybe I drew 2 things I couldn’t get you out of my mind

@ nottodaysatan: Here’s my number call me when you get these so I know you still want to collab 800 - 454 - 8000

Danny threw his hand over his face to hide his squealing from the joy that he actually got Roy’s number but more of the fact that Roy actually admitted to being shy.

He immediately texted Roy and after that sleep definitely wasn’t an option anymore. They spent the entire night talking about everything from their majors or art to even bad hook ups and pizza.

It was like the longer they talked the more Roy’s softer side came out instead of the harsh always professional side Jason warned him about. In fact it was more like Jason had been talking about someone completely different.

Roy was sweet and charming, a great sense of humor and quick wit and he never seemed to question Danny’s transition. He never even brought it up.

Roy - 04:22

I have to go to bed now chola

Danny - 04:22

Whyyyyyyyy????

Roy - 04:23

Bc I have class at 8

Danny - 04:23

Fiiiiiiiine. Meanie.

Danny - 04:23

Goodnight

Typing …

The 3 bubbles disappeared again and Danny waited a good 20 minutes for them to return but they never did, eventually he decided Roy probably just fell asleep and gave up.

He went to work setting the alarms he forgot so he’d have more than 5 minutes in the morning before he set the drawing Roy did of his chest as his lock screen.

He heard a knock at the door and after checking the time realized it was probably Tyler coming home from his other job as a bartender. He was just as scatter brained as him and often forgot his keys at home.

“Stop losing your…Hi.” His mouth fell open and he bit his lip to hide his huge baffled grin when he saw Roy standing outside instead of his roommate.

“God I have no idea how I’m going to function on 3 hours of sleep. I mean I’m used to the long hours trust me, but this is ridiculous.” Roy casually walked in past him yawning as he spoke.

Before Danny could even register what was happening Roy had disappeared into his bedroom.

‘What the…’ He chuckled to himself till reality hit him and he made a run for it after him.

“Hey, you said you’re going to bed?” He asked standing in the doorway where he saw Roy already making himself comfortable in his messy bed beneath the covers.

Only sitting up for a second to yank his shirt off over his head revealing his stubbly chest before he fell back down into the sheets.

Danny ogled him for a minute taking in how beautiful his body was, he wasn’t well built by any means but he sure was very well defined with every curve of muscle around his pecs and biceps perfect.

“Never said who’s bed.” Roy yawned again securing a pillow beneath his head.

“Well you can’t sleep here, sorry.” Danny stated matter of factly walking towards him with his arms crossed.

“Too late already asleep.” Roy closed his eyes and started fake snoring which made Danny giggle. God how could this absolute idiot ever be the scary bully Jason warned him about?

“You can’t! Get up!” Danny grabbed the pillow from under his head and hit him with it a few times.

Roy however quickly put an end to it by grabbing his waist and pulling him down onto the bed with him. “Shh, tired. You can continue hitting me in the morning.”

Danny couldn’t put on his very unsuccessful tough guy act any longer and instead snuggled up into the extended arm under his head to nuzzle his face into Roy’s collar. “Fine.”

God he smelled good. Danny closed his eyes to take in every second of Roy overwhelming his senses and savor the moment he had longed for so long.

“I’ll make it up to you then.” He yawned a final time before pulling Danny’s hips into his with his hand on his ass. “Now goodnight, chola.”

He wanted to enjoy the moment of closeness a little longer but when he felt his chest hitting Roy’s and his bulge pressing against him his dysphoria kicked in and he panicked.

“Wait, no. I can’t.” He pushed himself away from Roy and off the bed but Roy grabbed his wrist so he’d be fall back in a seated position on the edge of the bed.

“Why not? It’s just sleeping?” Roy tried putting his hand on his waist but Danny sprung up again.

“No.” He covered his chest with his arms and looked over at his briefs laying to the side with his packer in it.

In his peripherals he caught Roy’s eyes following his which only made his anxiety burn heavier.

He was utterly vulnerable without his packer on and without his chest taped down or binded. He didn’t want Roy to see him like this and run. Sure he saw his chest when it was flattened but this was different, his chest was different.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to put my shirt back on?”

“No…” He could feel his uncertainty bubbling up along with his insecurities the longer he stood there shielding himself from the boy in front of him.

“Come closer, please?” Roy asked sitting up slightly, resting on his elbow. “So I can talk to you.”

Danny obliged stepping closer to the bed so Roy could grab his hand and guide him as he climbed with his knees onto the mattress.

“Okay.” Roy pulled him down by the waist when he got close enough so Danny would be straddling him before he sat up in a similar position to what Danny drew. “Can I touch you?”

“Why?” Danny looked into his eyes unsure of his intentions. He trusted Roy enough not to run but not enough that he knew for sure he wasn’t going to disapprove of what he saw once he looked behind the proverbial curtains.

“I want to show you something.” Roy smiled.

Fuck that smile. He couldn’t say no to that beautiful smile. “Okay.”

Roy placed his hands under Danny’s shirt on his ribs making his heart race uncontrollably again as he leaned in for a kiss.

Their lips connected slowly at first till Danny eased into his touch and their kissing intensified. The way Roy’s lips passionately locked with his distracted his frantic mind so much he didn’t even flinch when the hands on his ribs moved down to hook his thumbs into the fabric of his shirt and pull it off over his head.

“That’s not fair you’re too good at that.” Danny whined when Roy pulled away.

“I told you earlier I don’t care about this?” Roy tilted his head down to kiss down Danny’s jaw as he held his petite chest in his hands.

Roy wasn’t lying either. He didn’t care and now that he’s seen Danny’s chest without anything holding it down he cared even less. It was small, probably even smaller than his was. Small enough that he couldn’t fathom why Danny would ever be ashamed of it or even feel the need to hide it.

As Roy’s mouth continued placing kisses in a trail down his jaw and throat, nipping at his pulse point the warmth of his palms pressed against his nipples reignited the release Danny had been denied earlier.

“Oh fuck…don’t do that.” Danny moaned lifting his head to allow Roy better access to his jugular and clavicle as he kissed further down.

“What? This?” Roy smirked pushing him down so he’d fall onto his back. Danny watched him with hungry eyes as he bent down over him taking one of his nipples in his mouth.

“Yeah that…shit.” Danny moaned deeper this time, his hips lifting against Roy on their own searching for any contact to ease the familiar tingling growing in his lap.

“Why not?” Roy let go of the pink bud with a pop and moved on to the next one.

His exhaustion was being too overshadowed by the intense desire to hear those moans again, to feel more of the body pinned beneath him to even give himself time to think what he was doing through.

“Because, you already ruined it once tonight.” Danny whined.

“I did?” Roy cocked a brow letting go of his nipple to look at him containing his smug grinning to himself.

Oops.

“Maybe.” Danny blushed looking away. “I…I was thinking about you earlier and then you dm’d me and I couldn’t, um finish and then we stared talking and stuff.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Roy purred in his ear before he fell back into the same position as earlier yawning again. “In the morning.”

“But…fine.” Danny pouted crawling over the bed to lie down next to him. “But I need the blankie between us.”

“Why?” Roy looked up puzzled at him trying to figure out what was happening as Danny tried tugging at the blanket to pull it between them.

“It’s weird.”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t…I have this thing where I can’t have my hands touching my chest.” He admitted looking away. “It just freaks me out if I feel any part of me touching my chest and then I can’t function or sleep or anything.”

Seeing the vulnerability again made Roy’s heart grow heavy, he didn’t know how he’d do it but he knew that he needed to help in any small way possible.

“That’s okay.” Roy smiled swiping the blankets away and pulling him in so close against himself there was no room between them. “Then you won’t have to.”

“I hate you.” Danny pouted draping his arm around Roy’s neck so his hand could play with his hair.

“Really?” Roy asked with a hint of amusement in his tired voice. Giving him a quick kiss before he took the pouty lip poking out between his teeth feeling Danny moan into his mouth. “Because I adore you.”

#cute boi #imafuckinglibra #adore delano #bianca del rio #biadore #college au #trans!danny #tw dysmorphia #tw swearing #rpdr fanfiction #submission #m/m au #trans character

128 notes · View notes

promptlists · 7 years

Text

Lights Out - Harry Hook X Reader

A/N: I’m officially back in business! Sorry for being M.I.A for so long, I swear I’m back to stay! Word Count: 4982 Warnings: Fluff, swearing, hints at abuse Requested: Yes!

I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the reader and Harry Hook somehow end up sharing a room and they don’t really like each other but he has a nightmare and the reader comforts him and realises he isn’t as bad/mean as he seems?

“I can’t continue like this anymore Mal, I’m going to lose my mind” You were holed up in your best friends dorm room trying desperately to chug as much caffeine as you possibly could in the few minutes before you had to head to class. “Surely it’s not that bad Y/N” She replied, handing you another mug of coffee. You downed it in one. “Mal! I’ve been running solely on energy drinks, espresso’s and power naps between tutor sessions for the last three weeks. I shouldn’t be alive at this point. I have not slept in almost a month. A MONTH!” You slammed the mug on the table and scooped together a pile of notebooks and papers. When you looked at your watch you nearly had a mental break down. “Oh great! I’m late for English Lit,” you mumbled under your breath before charging towards the door, an energy bar in your hand. Mal stopped you before you could leave, pushing you back down in you chair. “Y/N, you need to sleep” “I’ll be fine,” You weren’t really in the mood to listen to her, you had a English exam to sit and you were already running behind. “I just don’t understand how he’s managed to keep you awake for this long” She was talking about your new room-mate, the infamous, hook wielding pirate who invaded your living space when he arrived from the isle a few weeks ago. Some how you drew the short straw and were forced to have the unwanted VK as a room-mate; life becoming increasingly more difficult from that moment onwards.Since Harry had arrived he had done nothing but infuriate you, using whatever methods necessary to irritate you. So far the most effective of which had been the sleep deprivation. The pirate would purposely turn all of the lights on whenever you tried to sleep and insisted on playing the sound of crashing waves at all hours during the night. You were one audio file of a seagull away from killing a man. “I just don’t understand how I’ve not strangled him yet” You replied, rolling your eyes to show you were unamused “Now will you let me go Mal?” Your purple haired best friend pulled you into a hug. “Fine. Go ace that stupid exam of yours. Then you sleep” Mal said pointedly, a stern tone in her voice that was almost motherly. “And I’m going to talk to Ben. See if we can get you another roommate” You squeezed her harder before pulling out of the embrace. “Thanks M! I really appreciate it. Now if you excuse me I’m about to go get an A” You saluted her as you headed out of the dorm room and into the English Hall, feeling oddly confident despite the lack of proper rest. Mal burst into a rare hysteric fit of giggles as soon as you were out of ear shot. She knew you’d be asleep within the first twenty minutes of the lesson.

Three words. You had written three words and your eyes were already starting to droop. Three fucking words. Maybe it was the fact that the exam hall was deadly silent or the fact that the lights had been dimmed ever so slightly but you felt the strongest urge to lay your head down on the desk and drift away into a blissful in-interrupted sleep. This was bad., really bad. The English exam was worth a stupidly large percentage of your overall grade and you refused to let some selfish pirate and his odd sleeping habits rob you of your success. “Cowgirl the fuck up Y/N” you whispered under your breath as you forced yourself to prise your eyes open. You were met by death glares from those around you. “Sorry” you mouthed before getting back to scribbling down your answers. No longer caring what the students around you thought, you continued to talk to yourself for motivation. “You’ve got everything under control Y/N, you can stay awake” Everything was not under control, there was no way you were staying awake. To be fair to you, you lasted longer than you thought you would but ten minutes into the exam you were fast asleep.

Tap Tap Tap You felt your whole body groan as you were awoken to the steady sound of metal hitting oak. You were still wrapped a foggy daze after emerging from your nap and you were still unable to comprehend where your were or what time it was. Tap Tap Tap. The noise continued, so you forced yourself to open your eyes and gently scan the room you were in. You saw the desks first, then the chalkboard, then the clock. Then it suddenly clicked. Shit. Tap Tap Tap. The exam was over, all of the other students had left the hall, and you were sat alone at the back of the room, still flat against your desk. You glanced at the paper in front of you, you had’t even finished a paragraph. Tap Tap Tap. It was in that exact moment you realised that you weren’t in fact alone. “Ye look so peaceful when you’re dreaming sweetheart” You felt your blood slowly start to boil as your eyes landed on a particular pirate, sat with his feet up at a desk directly in front of you, taping his hook against the chair leg. Still, the familiar accent sent shivers down your spine. Crooked smile, dark brooding eyes and one dangerous voice, Harry Hook was unbearable. “Don’t you sweetheart me” You hissed glaring at the grinning boy “You’re always so fucking smug aren’t you” “I have no idea what yer talking about” he continued, grinning even wider as he began to stalk towards you. “That was quite a nap ye took there Y/N” You scoffed before shuffling in your seat slightly to wriggle away from Harry’s looming presence, uncomfortable with the lack of space between the two you. “I wonder why,” You whispered under your breath, avoiding eye contact with him. Harry was now stood directly over you, his hand leaning on your desk, one of his boots resting on the edge of your chair. “Ye wouldn’t be blaming me now would ye?” The pirate began, before picking up your test paper and tutting at the lack of content. “ Oh Y/N, it seems as though you’ve lost your touch” He pouted. “Oh Harry,” you said mocking his tone, “It seems as though you’ve forgotten that the only reason I’m going to fail this test is because you won’t let me fucking go to sleep on a night!” You were becoming more and more agitated with the pirate who was pressing his face closer and closer to yours. You gulped, your confidence wavering, when the tip of his nose brushed the skin by your ear. “Ye know yer starting to blush sweetheart” Harry whispered, a cocky edge to his voice. It was true, your cheeks were starting to prickle with heat as Harry moved closer to you still. Something about him just made you uncomfortable, something unhinging yet somehow alluring. He was good looking, there was no doubt about it, and all it took was a flicker of a smile across his lips and you were practically melting. Snap out of it! You yelled to yourself internally. He was an asshole, a sly, impulsive little flirt who made you fail your English final. Yet somehow, you couldn’t stop staring at the blue in his eyes. Harry was smirking again, clearly aware that you had been daydreaming, so you quickly turned the tables in an attempt to salvage your pride. “I’m done here Hook,” You said bluntly, standing up abruptly and slamming your hands on the desk. The sudden movement clearly took Harry by surprise as his smug demeanour dropped for a second, his usual grin drooping a little. He quickly composed himself again though, the facade re-appearing as he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. “Leaving so soon sweetheart? I feel slightly offended” You were so close together now, Harry hands snaking towards your waist, his chest pressed against yours. “Let me go Harry,” you growled, trying your best not to make eye-contact with the pirate. You couldn’t trust yourself not to crumble if you looked directly at him. “Why would I do that Y/N?” Harry whispered, as you felt the cool metal of his hook rest against the small of your back. You shuddered. “Get. Your. Filthy. Hands. Off. Me” You pushed him away for good and grabbed your bag, scowling at Harry as you reached down to get it from the floor. You where starting to storm away when Harry called out to you again. “We can finish this tonight sweetheart” Harry called out, his usual Cheshire-cat smirk still plastered across his face. “I wouldn’t count on it” you began, hesitating as you got to the door frame “I’m changing room-mates. Ben’s going to sort it”

It turned out Ben couldn’t sort it, so no more than an hour later you were back at your dorm-room, greeted by the triumphant sniggers of the highly amused pirate. “Back already are ye darling?” Harry teased “Couldn’t get enough of me hey?” You purposely ignored him, charging over to your bed and dumping your binders and notebooks on the quilt cover. Harry followed you, sitting at the foot of the bed and picking up one of your books. You snatched it immediately from him. “What’s wrong with ye sweetheart,” he said patronisingly, “Anybody would think ye didn’t like me” “I don’t” you said pointedly. “Come on, work with me here Y/N,” He was still smirking like a dickhead “Do ye ever stop being uptight” You stopped what you were doing to glare at the boy and throw a pencil at him. “Do you ever stop being a psychotic man whore?” You fired back, really not in the mood for his ridiculous antics. He put his hands to his face, resting his cheeks in his palms and pouted; whimpering as if he was offended by what you had said. You sucked your teeth. “Ye really don’t like me do ye?” Harry laughed “No” You replied bluntly, your mind drifting to the amount of grovelling you were going to have to do the following day to get your English teacher to let you redo the exam. “Ye really should ye know - start liking me - we could have really hit it off” The pirate teased as he inched slightly closer to you again. You huffed, you’d had enough. “Any chance of ditching the industrial lights and sound effects tonight or what?” You asked brightly, shifting your voice to make it sound more optimistic. “Nah” “Then this conversation is over”

The two of you barely spoke for the rest of the night. Well. Harry had tried to his best to flirt his way out of your bad books but quickly relented once a hardback novel went flying across the room and hit him in the head. It was safe to say he didn’t bother you for the rest of the night. Once it had started to get dark outside you changed into your pyjama’s, ditching the floral skater dress in favour of a soft oversized shirt. “Harry! Hurry up in the bathroom I need to get changed!” You yelled at him through the crack in the bathroom door. You didn’t trust the pirate enough for you to get changed out in the open of the dorm room - in fear that he may come charging through whilst you were mid-way through taking off your dress. “Ye know sweetheart it would be a lot easier for ye to just get changed in ye bloody bedroom” The bathroom door swung open and you were face to face with the pirate who was leaning against the door frame. “I don’t want to be exposed,” you huffed defensively, putting an emphasis on the last word which made Harry chuckle. “Ye strange Y/N Ye know” Harry laughed genuinely, his blue eyes lighting up at the way you wrinkled your nose. There were times, although they were rare, when Harry did this, little pockets of random happiness where the pirate simply spoke his mind. It intrigued you. But then again there were far more frequent times when Harry would deprive you of sleep and embarrass you in front of your friends just to spite you. It was unsurprisingly hard to overlook. “Just let me get changed you scoundrel” you said lightly, pushing him out of the bathroom and locking the door behind you.

When you walked out of the bathroom Harry was laid on the sofa, his arms and legs stretched out along the arm-rests as you walked past him. He smirked. “Oh Y/N!” He called softly in a sing-song voice, the teasing obvious in his tone. You ignored him as you made your way over over to your bed, unfolding the covers and clambering inside. “Y/N sweetheart, are ye ignoring me?” The pirate continued, not even turning his head to look at you. “I’m trying to sleep,’ You snapped at him, irritation making you hostile “Although, I’m sure it’s a pointless exercise, you never turn that bloody sound system off” Harry made a mock whimpering noise, before spinning around to face you, a condescending smirk plastered all over his face. He cocked his head at you. “No eye mask?” The pirate asked you with a wicked gleam in his eye. He huffed loudly. You had bought an eye mask, along with some ear buds, in the hope that you’d be able to ignore Harry at night, but you had come back to find they had all gone confidently missing. Asshole. “Do you ever give it a rest Harry?” You asked. You sound more desperate than you had originally planned. Harry only smirked wider. Then he stood up. Walked towards the TV. And turned on the stereo system.

There wasn’t much surprise that you were still awake at two am, even if your patience was wearing thin. Your whole body ached with tiredness, your eyes hollowed, your head pounding, yet there was no way you could sleep. Everything was too bright, everything was too loud. Every limb groaned. You had no idea how Harry could sleep like this, hell you didn’t even know if the pirate slept at all! You grabbed another pillow and pressed it over your head, trying to drowned out the incessant sound of crashing waves in vain, you knew it wouldn’t work, it never did. You sat bolt upright in your bed, scowling deeper than you ever had before. Enough was enough. You were stood up one, fists clenched ready to confront Harry when…

Darkness. You were plunged into complete darkness. Every light in the whole dorm room went out in one quick burst, every lamp, every night light gone, as if someone had blown out a cake-ful of birthday candles. Even the blinking numbers on the microwave had disappeared, anything remotely electrical turned off, sent to slumber But that wasn’t all. Silence. A long awaited, precious quietness fell upon the dorm room, no more waves, no more seagulls, no more sounds of the sea. Just quiet. You smirked to yourself. Saved by the power cut. “The fuck Y/N?” Yelled the pirate, leaping up from his bed and clicking the switches on the lamps beside him frantically. It was your turn to smirk, giggling to yourself as Harry tried to turn the lights back on, clearly thinking this was your doing. Didn’t they have power outages on the Isle? “Relax Harry,” you said plainly “It’s a power cut, nothing to do with me. I doubt they’ll sort the electrics out until the morning though so just go to sleep for god sake” “Ye sounding way too happy about this ye know. Just ye wait until I-” “Good night Harry” You said climbing back into bed. You couldn’t see him in the darkness but you could hear that he had stopped moving. Maybe you were actually going to sleep for once. “Ye wouldn’t get it Y/N!” He started to shout “I can’t bloody-” “Good night Harry” you repeated, cutting him off. You were smiling to yourself as your head hit the pillow, the muffled babbling of Harry mumbling profanities making you grin. It was going to be a good night.

Or so you thought. You had slept blissfully for a few hours but soon you were wriggling and writhing in your bed sheets uncomfortably. You were freezing. The dorm room was no warmer than outside, the beginning of a gale billowing, ice creeping along the window panes. “Of course” You sighed to yourself, “The power cut’s knocked off the boiler” You curled up further into a ball, the only warmth from your own body, the ice blocks that had replaced your hands buried deep within your thighs. So much for a good nights sleep. You knew then that you wouldn’t be drifting off and time soon and huffed to yourself, Harry for once could not be blamed. Wind rattled at the guttering and rain beat down against the glass window as you propped yourself upright, starting to shiver properly for the first time. You pulled the threadbare shirt over your knees as you tried to salvage any warmth you could but it was know use, you would just have to deal with being cold. You were considering going to find Mal in her room when your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of somebody unmistakeable afraid.

Your eyes had pretty much adjusted to the dark, the silhouette of Harry shooting up from his mattress unmissable. He was gasping for air, panting and holding his head in his hands as he tried to return his breathing to normal. You were stunned, even through the darkness you could see all of his muscles were tense, the moonlight leaking through the curtains illuminating beads of sweat on his forehead. Harry was a lot of things, scared wasn’t one of them. “Harry,” you called lightly, hardly daring to raise your voice above a whisper “You okay?” The pirate shot his head around so he was facing you, his eyes wide for a second with alarm before his face settled into a blank unrevealing expression, no familiar smirk in sight. Now you were concerned. He grumbled something unintelligible and the paused, as if considering whether to speak or not, before taking a deep breath and offloading whatever was on his mind to you. “I have constant nightmares okay!” He practically shouted as if he was admitting it to himself for the first time “I wasn’t being an asshole to ye, with the music and the lights, I just needed to hear the sea, it helps ye know. Ye probably think it’s pathetic but I can’t sleep without the fucking light on” He paused before continuing” Don’t ye dare laugh at me Y/N, I’ll gut ye with me hook if ye even think about telling anyone" You didn’t have the slightest idea what to do with all this new information. It stunned you, not adding up to the twisted image of the flirty pirate you had in your mind. You were baffled. “Harry you know full well I wouldn’t” You whispered earnestly. You cocked your head at the pirate at the other end of the room. Harry Hook had nightmares. Harry Hook who tried to set the King on fire when he first came to Auradon, Harry Hook who scared little kids for fun, Harry Hook who flirted with you just to make you embarrassed, had nightmares. Nightmares so bad that he had to turn all of the lights on and and play the sound of the ocean to himself. He wasn’t finished yet. “I’ve always had someone to cuddle with, usually CJ” Harry continued, as you tried to picture the pirate cuddled up to his sister. Piece by piece the arrogant intimidating persona you had come to associate with Harry was coming undone “Now, I realise we are not exactly on that level but yer the only one here and I’m really scared to go to sleep” It took a while for you to register what he was saying. He wanted to cuddle with you. Not in a flirtatious seductive attempt but in fearful, vulnerable kind of way. You both needed to sleep you guessed. “Y/N?” He called through the darkness, almost desperately. A knot was starting to grow in your stomach and before you knew it your were stood up, ambling towards the boy. “I’m warning you Hook” you said gently as you reached his mattress “I’m absolutely freezing”

He untucked the bed covers so you could climb in the bed beside him, wiggling as far as he could to the right side of the bed so you could lay on the left. You didn’t touch, you didn’t speak, you just laid there, you still shivering, him still slightly traumatised from whatever was haunting his dreams. All together, it was unbearabley awkward. “What was it?” You said eventually, you words slicing through the uneasy silence. You felt Harry turn around to face you, his blue eyes blinking at you in confusion. The bed covers wrinkled as he shifted, the crumpling sound the only thing that you could hear. He was bare chested you realised, and forced yourself to draw your eyes away from his exposed torso before he noticed you staring and focus back on his face. “What?” He asked plainly, his eyes looking tired for the first time, remnants of black eyeliner smudged across his cheeks. “The nightmare” you prompted, keeping your voice as soft as possible. Harry inhaled sharply and let out a large breath, the warmth hitting your skin. “It’s the same fucking one every time” The pirate spat, his eyes looking upwards as his jaw clenched, as if he was angry at something you couldn’t see. “I’m back on the Isle. I can’t be older than about seven and its him, it’s always him” “Who Harry?” You reached for Harry’s hand, or maybe he reached or yours, it was hard to tell. You intertwined your fingers instinctively, a jolt of electricity sparking between the two of you. You were certain Harry felt it too as he looked at you strangely an unreadable expression settling across his face. Neither of you moved your palms. Harry’s jaw was set in place now, his eyes narrowing with a kind of anger that you knew wasn’t directed at you. “My Father. He used to…he used to -” He never finished his sentence. He didn’t need to. And of course there was nothing that you could have said after that. Sometimes all the words in the whole English language won’t be enough, they won’t help. But he kept looking at you, the bluish-steel of his eyes glassed over and you knew. You knew you couldn’t just lay there any longer.

Just as another bite of cold wind swept under your nightshirt, your hands moved around Harry’s middle, his skin warm and soft. In seconds his body moulded to your own, sharing his body heat as easily as you shared your heart. “Hey,” you whispered to him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck “If it’s any compensation, you’re not half as bad as I thought” Harry chuckled lightly, but only squeezed you tighter. He had never let another close to him like this, close enough to share breaths, close enough to share secrets. “Yer quite something Y/N,” He whispered, slowly returning back to his self again. You snuggled further into him, grateful for the warmth and the unlikely comfort you found in the pirate’s arms. You wrapped yourself around his shoulders, pulling him close and gently rubbing his arm. Despite the heaviness in your stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of your body pressed against his. You sunk into the warmth of his side and Harry reciprocated, the two of you giggling at things that simply weren’t funny, both appreciative of the friendly gesture. But it was more than that. Way more than just friendly. There was something else there, a spark of something more than platonic. You had hugged plenty of friends before and it had never been like this. Not ever You hadn’t run your hands through their dishevelled hair and nearly stopped breathing when they stroked yours. You hadn’t traced the contours of the chest or stared when they bit their lips. They hadn’t nipped at your skin playfully with their teeth when you joked about thinking they were a psycopath. They hadn’t cupped your face with their rough palms and told you you were different, different and yet so beautiful. You hadn’t blushed. They hadn’t noticed and said it cute. You hadn’t wanted to kiss them so badly it almost ached. But you did with Harry. And it scared you a little. “You smell like sea salt,” you whispered, the tiredness making you act completely delirious “And metal” “Metal?” Harry asked with a raised eyerbrow, stifling a laugh. “Metal” You confirmed adamantly, before breaking out in a yawn. Harry looked at you questioningly. “What?” You defended “You do. It’s not a bad thing” Harry chuckled at you and you untangled yourself from him, twisting to face away from the pirate.

You started to snuggle down into you pillow when you stopped abruptly. Your eyes shot open. He kissed your shoulder. He kissed your shoulder. Harry freaking Hook just kissed your shoulder. And then he did it again. Before your better judgement could take over you turned around, grabbed the bottom of his jaw and pushed his face towards yours. You were staring at his lips now, doing whatever you could to resist them. Don’t do it Y/N, don’t do it. Come on. Will power, self-control, self-restraint. Stop staring at him, you don’t want to kiss him, you don’t. Resist the sexy pirate, resist the pirate RESIST! You did not resist “Just so you know Harry, I am about to punch you on the mouth with my own mouth, softly, because I think I like y-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence. He kissed you. Without warning, without permission. Without even consciously deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn’t have done anything else. You lips crashed together, quickly falling into rhythm as you tilted your head backwards. You felt Harry’s lips curl up into a smile under your own. You pulled away from him, playfully swatting him on the arm. “You could have given me a heads up Hook?” You giggled, running your fingers up and down his bare arms. Harry chuckled airily at you. “What ye were taking too long” He was smirking again. You breathed a sigh of relief, he was smirking again. “Who said I wanted to kiss you Mr. Stinky Metal Pirate” “Ye did not seriously call me Mr. Stinky Metal Pirate?” “I did” You were trying not to burst into a fit of giggles. “I do not smell like bloody metal” “Oh Harry darling” you said in a joking tone “But you d-”

In a split second he pulled your hands away from him and picked you up under arms, pulling you in front of him. You were pinned down, him over the the top of you grinning like an idiot. You were both laughing. “Harold Hook” you said with mock sadness “You’ve picked the wrong girl to mess with” You rolled to the side, escaping his grip and flipped him over, sitting on top of him. You pushed his chest down, your hands pressed against his torso. “Y/N” he said softly, staring directly into your eyes. He leant his forehead against yours. “Harry” He inched his head closer to yours so that you could feel the warmth of his breath. You pulled slightly away but he pulled you back, pressing his mouth against your ear, whispering to you softly. “Anything ye want to tell me lass” “Yeah” you laughed, squirming as his lips tickled your skin “If you don’t want to smell like metal, maybe don’t carry a hook around everywhere” Before you could say anything, he sprung upwards scooped you up and tossed you over his shoulder “Un-hand me you beast” you screamed as you flailed your limbs. He eventually let you go and you pushed him backwards on his bed, kneeling your legs either side of him. He wrestled you to the bed again. You tried to push him off, your palms flat against his and you both collapsed in a tangled heap on the floor. You sat up, giggling like little girls. You stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep” You said eventually. “Okay” he said simply grinning at you.

At that exact moment every light switched on one by one, flickering into action. You clasped at your ears when the stereo turned back on, playing the track at a significantly louder volume than it had originally been set at. Both you and Harry groaned but then started to laugh. “Powers back then I guess” You said as you watched Harry wrestling with the speakers to turn them off. “Yeah” the pirate awkwardly said, setting the remote down once it was quiet again. “Still want to cuddle?” You asked hopefully, turning out all of the lights except for he lamp closest to Harry’s bed. He looked up at you, grinned, then looked back at the floor. “Ye’ve just read my mind Y/N” He turned off the final light once you both laid together, you’re head resting on his chest listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breathing in the darkness. Finally, for the first time in months, you drifted off into a blissful, uninterrupted sleep.

#harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #harry hook #disney descendants #disney imagine #disney descendants imagine #carlos descendants #carlos x reader #carlos de vil #jay descendants #jay x reader #harry descendants #thomas doherty imagine #thomas doherty #Uma #dylan playfair #gil descendants #gil x reader

5K notes · View notes

homo-bois · 6 years

Text

"Twins, and Love"

~A short Reddie Fanfiction~

Pairings: Reddie,,

Summary: Eddie is anxious about a boy who keeps getting in his mind, and he has to tag along with his ten minute older twin Alex everywhere.

So he vents all the time to Alex and he gets fed up with Eddie and convinces him to confess to the boy.

==================

Eddie is an anxious kid nowadays, Hes always fidgetting and getting distracted. It was unusual for him.

"Edward. Why have you been anxious lately?" Alex spoke as he threw a basketball in the air. Eddie was on the floor trying to study "What do you mean?" Eddie spoke nervously as Alex rolled over on his stomach and narrowed his eyes at the other "Seriously? Were twins and you have the curtousy to doubt my assumption?" Eddie sighed at those words..he gave in. "I dont know-" "Usually you'd be done thirty questions by now. Right now you've only completed eight."

Eddie sighed again and tried to stay as calm as possible "Im just stressed about school wor-" "Liar." Alex interrupted as he glared "Tell the truth. Or Im telling mom that you're falling behind on your studies." Alex formed a smirk across his lips as Eddie growled "Fuck you Alex. You're such a dick" he hissed out and packed his things "Its a long story. You dont deserve to hear it all. So fuck off." Eddie snapped and he walked out of his twins room.

Alex hummed and rolled back over on his back, going back to tossing his basketball in the air. Catching it. Repeating.

Now, he was curious...

==================

A couple days later Alex had a basketball practice, and as usual. Eddie was forced to go with him due to their paranoid mother.

Alex was in his basketball uniform, shooting the ball at the hoops and getting some in. Some bounced off. He looked stressed as well...

Eddie blamed himself. Twins can feel each others emotions. And Alex seemed to be stressed about Eddie too.

Eddie had been trying to do the questions he was assigned but the boy he kept thinking about had gotten under his skin. He was anxious about seeing him..he had known this boy for over a month and the flirting was getting worse and worse.

Eddie found himself writing out the boys name ~Richie..~ he softly smiled as he finally felt calm for some reason, he drew little hearts around the name and a voice broke his focus "Whos Richie?" Eddie jolted, only to find his twin sitting beside him ~When the fuck?~ Eddie couldnt hide from his brother anymore.

He had to confront him. "A boy..that I like..." Eddie mumbled as Alex sipped on his water bottle "A cute boy?" "Alex!" Eddie snapped "What? Im just curious" he giggled which made Eddie smile a bit..

He came out as gay to Alex just when he was thirteen. When he realized he had a crush on his best friend Bill. Who is now taken by his friend Stanley

And Alex was the most calm and collected about it, he even stated that he already knew. Because whenever they were out together, he would catch Eddie staring at guys more than necessary.

Alex cocked his eyebrow in curiousity, Eddie sighed again "Yeah..I guess hes cute." He finally admitted that he had a crush on this Richie.

Alex just kept asking questions, making Eddie more and more embarassed and shy about it. "You really like him dont you?" Alex smirked as Eddie finally hit his twin in the shoulder with his binder "Fuck you. I do not-" "Then why is your face as red as a tomato?" Alex chuckled and Eddie blushed more in embarassment. Eddie slapped Alex with his binder again

==================

A couple weeks had passed and Eddie had finally admitted he had a crush on Richie. But never did anything about it. It annoyed Alex because Eddie would not stop talking about Richie, and saying how he was extremely anxious about his crush.

Alex wanted to meet this Richie, yet he wanted Eddie to hurry his ass and confess.

Alex was getting impatient. Because Eddies anxiety was effecting him as well, which is distracting him from basketball , he groaned heavily.

Alex stormed to Eddies room and bursted the door open "Edward I swear to god-" He froze of what he saw, Eddies face was a dark shade of crimson red, beside him on his bed was a black curly haired boy. Bulky glasses, making his eyes pop out a little. A green hawaiian shirt, beigey brown shorts, and a white t-shirt. The boy was also wearing a necklace of some sort.

They both stared at Eddies twin, Richies textbook in hand. Alex mustve distrupted a study session.

Alex's facial expression switched to a smirk and a raised eyebrow "Whos this?" Were his only words. Eddie buried his face in his binder as he breathed heavily, Richie glanced at the smaller boy and gave a shocked stare "Eds you ok?" He dug in Eddies bag for his inhaler as Eddie spoke to Alex "This is Richie.." He took a puff of his inhaler as Richie settled down. "Eds you never told me you had a twin" Richie stared in shock at Alex standing in the doorway, who was smirking up a storm in amusement. And he thought

~I've never heard someone call him Eds. How interesting~ then spoke aloud "Yeah, my name is Alex. Nice to meet you..Richie" When Alex said the boys name he said it with a sly grin, Eddie's eyes pleaded for Alex not to say anything "Does...mom know, that Richies, Here?" He spoke teasingly as Eddie tumbled off his bed and ran to his twin, pushing him into his own room and shut the door behind them "Please for the love of god do not tell Mom. She doesnt like Richie and if she finds out he wont be able to come over anymore, she'll lock my window shut every night and keep the key-" "Have you told him?" Alex interrupted, Eddie stuttered "N-No not yet! Im not ready" His face was turning pink and Alex rolled his eyes "Just tell him Edward. Whats the harm in it?" He gently grabbed onto his younger twins shoulders, Eddie frowned "He..doesnt like me, like that" and then Alex let out a sigh.

Then a speech on how he felt that there was something between them. He stated on how Richie looked at Eddie differently than he expected. And he knew. Just barely convincing Eddie to confess.

When they went back into Eddies room, Richie looked up from his studies and instantly stared at Eddie. Eddies face was a bright pink and the second he raised his head to glance at Richie, he quickly noticed the type of expression Richie was giving and decided to bury his face in Alex's chest, "I-I cant do it.." He muttered quietly so only Alex would be able to hear it, he gently stroked through Eddies hair and messed it up a little and gave Eddie a kiss on the cheek "You got this." He winked at Richie and walked out of the room, Eddie on one side of the door, facing Richie, trembling and anxious.

Alex on the other side of the door, facing his own room. Prideful and Nervous. FOR his brother. And he kept still, listening to the scene about to unfold.

Eddie took a couple steps forward and battled himself mentally "R-Rich.." He glanced at the other and Richie raised an eyebrow curiously "Yeah?" He spoke softly and motioned his hand for Eddie to come closer.

Eddie obeyed and stepped even closer "I..have something...to confess" he spoke nervously as he sat next to Richie on his bed, Richie leaned closer..making Eddie even more anxious.

"I-I.." Eddies words got caught in his throat, the silence was unbearable. The moment was growing awkward, So he did what his body wanted to do. He leaned in quickly and immediately pressed a deep kiss on Richies lips, Richie was shocked.

He never knew this would happen, he broke the kiss quickly, giving Eddie a shocked stare, and Eddie frowned "S-Sorry.." He whispered but Richie cupped Eddies cheeks in his hands and kissed him deeply, Eddie gave a slight squeal at the sudden movement but melted into the moment slowly. "Mmh~" he hummed as Richie broke the kiss and kissed Eddies cheek instead, "I was waiting for this for a fucking month now Kaspbrak you know that?" He smiled against Eddies lips as Eddie giggled "Me too~" he kissed Richie once more and then Richie decided to break the romantic moment "So do I get to have two Eddies in my bed tonigh-" "Beep fucking Beep Richie." Eddie hissed and the older male laughed "Your brother is way taller than you hes my height-" "Shut the fuck up!" Eddie laughed hysterically and Richie continued "I bet hes good in bed just like your mother-" He gasped when Eddies lips were on his again, this time Eddie forcefully shoved Richie back onto his bed, and he straddled over the other, deepening the kiss, Richie was trying not to smirk or snicker in amusement.

Eddies tongue decided to slide into Richies cavern, swirling around the others tongue and he bit down onto Richies lip, tugging it with his teeth slowly, and he yanked Richies hair back, licking his lips, and grabbing the older males tongue with his teeth, he tugged on it quickly and begun to suck on it.

Feeling prideful to when Richie kept letting out whimpers and whines of pleasure, Eddie finally pulled away and gave Richie a dominant stare "Dont. Talk. About. My. Brother." His voice was deep and seductive, making a shiver run up Richies spine. "Oh fuck~ You're ten times hotter than him anyways." Richie smirked widely, making Eddie blush. "I would like to know how you are in bed even more~" Richie leaned up and licked Eddies lips slowly "Jackass." Eddie grinned slyly, and they both fell into a heated moment.

In the meantime.

Alex was on the other side of Eddies door silently laughing and cheering for his twin.

"Alex?!" He heard his mother call as he dorkily stumbled and fell face flat on the floor, making Eddie and Richie pull apart and give a concerned stare. Alex quickly got up and ran down the stairs "Mom! Mom!" He whispered cheerfully as Mrs. Kaspbrak raised a brow "What is it honey?" She replied from the kitchen as Alex leaned against the doorway pridefully "Im a genius!" he stated happily as Mrs. Kaspbrak rolled her eyes and chuckled "You're eighteen. Alex." "Yeah! Exactly" the twin sighed happily and contently now that Eddies anxiety went away.

He could finally focus on Basketball now "Tournament. Tomorrow." Mrs. Kaspbrak spoke as Alex widened his eyes

"Oh shi-" "LANGUAGE!" Mrs. Kaspbrak screeched

Lol the end

#alex riley #beep beep richie #richie tozier #stanley uris

4 notes · View notes

demiboypercyjackson · 7 years

Note

all your faves are trans Percy? Trans Anna Beth? Trans Piper? Trans anyways could I get some more trans headcanons *wiggles eyebrows*

all my faves are trans as hell, bruh!!!! 😎 im always up for givin trans headcanons!

trans percy who takes advantage of being able to swim in a binder because his clothes dont get wet when he’s underwater. he’s ecstatic, because he loves being underwater and he hates not binding and now the water even heals his wounds so he can stay in his binder even LONGER underwater and have it still be safe binding and- well, he’s very excited. sometimes, though, he does take it off to swim with the other/younger trans kids at camp. he knows hes something of a Big Time Hero, so he figures he can use that to their advantage and help them accept themselves. he may not like his body, but he can help them learn to like their own.

trans annabeth and trans clarisse who both come out as trans girls around the same time without the other knowing and so they both show up to the campfire dressed the way they want to for the first time, clarisse’s short hair pulled back in a bandana headband and annabeth’s in grey ribbon. they look at eachother like “what the heck??” and even though they dont get along, they sit next to eachother and stick close together for most of their time at camp half blood. they’re rivals, but not in this. they’ve always been cousins, but now they’re sisters in something that feels even bigger than divine blood. they dont have to like eachother to support and protect eachother.

trans nico who feels like a freak. bianca keeps trying to convince him to go with her, please, the hunters can be a safe place for us! but he tells her no. it feels wrong to be like that, among women when he feels so out of place there. later, after he runs away and percy seems him again for the first time, he’s shocked by nico’s self-cut short hair and too-big boys clothes. it takes a long time for nico to understand himself, but less than most people. not many know this, but the dead are good company. their stories hold him in a place of belonging, they speak in old tongues of skin that felt so wrong on their bones. “but you can make it a home,” they tell him. “like a bird bites holes into a cactus to create shelter from the storm, you can make it a home. nico’s father makes sure he has a binder, that he never uses bandages or other unsafe methods. he’s seen enough kids in his realm to know that children like nico need support. he wont let nico turn into another sad, transclucent face in the fields of asphodel. not over this. and neither will nico.

trans piper mclean who fights tooth and nail to be as ‘girly’ as possible, and when that doesnt work, fights to be as piper as possible. if they wont accept her as they want her to be then screw that - she’ll be herself. she’ll wear her biker boots and her big, “manly” coat and her skirts that are too long and her skirts that are too short. she’ll wear her hair cut short in the way that made grandpa tom cry with old tears and yet tears of pride too. “your blood will always fight” he tells her, one of the last things he tells her. “i was certain you would sing our songs but instead you sing your own.” there is mourning in his voice and there is mourning im her heart when he passes. she cuts her hair once more unevenly when his spirit leaves the body, and that is the last time for a very, very long time. her uneven hair grows unevenly and she stops thinking about rebelling and she stops thinking about conforming. she sees her sister, drew, trans like her and fierce like her with something broken and angry in her too and piper’s caring heart finally knows rest. she finds the love she wishes she always had, the acceptance. she saves the goddamned world and it isnt about being what people do or dont want to see. it was about those kids at camp, like drew, with the sad eyes and the bitter tongues. kids like her that cut their hair and made their grandpas cry. it was for love - love for others and love for herself.

im feeling a lot of emotion now wtf…. this started off pretty benign and then as i got into it i slowly started making it almost autobiographical alfjakf oopsies - mod will

#trans percy jackson #trans annabeth chase #trans piper mclean #trans clarisse la rue #trans nico di angelo #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #toa #mod will #iris message

655 notes · View notes

writetoremainsilent · 5 years

Text

3/26/19 short story about puzzles and dragons

I called it The Little Puzzle, but that’s super edgy. This also might be the most me thing I’ve ever written, and I hate that. Enjoy. (Tumblr’s formatting is so bad, it makes me cry).

I witnessed something strange this morning, as dark grey clouds swam into our slice of the sky.

The boy was first, weary from a long all-nighter, presumably after hearing back from all the colleges he had applied to. From the dark caverns where his eyes should’ve been, and from the eyebags tugging them downward, you could tell it wasn’t good news. His backpack was on and his shoes were untied as he made his way to wherever he was going.

He clutched his head as he walked, railroad spikes of memory jamming into his head, stabbing straight through, leaving clean out the other side. Broken fragments appeared before him: his parents teaching him to ride a bike, his parents arguing after he fell, his first failed test, his father’s first(?) beating.

More memories splintered and snapped within his mind; his footsteps quickened.

He clutched his head as he ran, unwilling and unable to parse the little puzzle his mind had laid for him to solve.

The boy wasn’t sure when he started crying, but the tears came now, hot and thick and heavy, and he knew he couldn’t go to school today. He wasn’t ready to face them. He changed direction.

He wiped his eyes as he came upon the bridge that connected the city, the tall, majestic bridge that was the pride and joy of the people, and he scrambled up the protective fence that was not really made to be scrambled up.

He dropped to the other side and slid the backpack off his aching shoulders, which landed heavily and kicked up dust. He stayed there, like that, occasionally bringing a hand up to soothe his throbbing head, but otherwise at peace. He enjoyed the way the salt air licked playfully at his face, and he was reminded of his dog

as another spike lanced through

that had passed away a few years back. He wasn’t really sure how his dad didn’t cry when that happened. He loved playing with it. It loved playing with him, with his parents, too. He rubbed his temples, trying to halt the flood of nostalgia.

The memories snapped off, like branches from a tree, and suddenly, his dad was beating him, then hugging him, praising and scorning, and his mother was once again in his face, complaining about his father. His classmates were puffing out their chests while he deflated as the teacher handed back their tests, and the boy realized just how tired he felt from it all.

The dark grey clouds strewn across the sky drew close to one another, and his brain instinctively tried to fit them together, to piece the sky whole. And he was bothered by that, because he could not. It was too hard. His head hurt.

The second was the mother. Ever the provider, she had risen early and hugged kissed her son on the cheek after realizing he’d stayed up all night. Poor baby, she mused. He’s going to be exhausted in school today.

She was humming to herself gently as she prepared breakfast for them, including him. She had to make sure to be quiet so he wouldn’t get mad, because she was not in the mood for another fight.

Yesterday, they had a fight. A big one. The son had watched, and she had cried. Their fights had been occurring with greater frequency, and she no longer felt as though she belonged in this house. She had known it for a while, but stuck it out for the child, whom she loved with all her heart. She made sure to tell him that, frequently, that the only reason she didn’t leave was for him, her baby. She wanted him to know that.

She often fantasized about a life without him, and without her baby, too. A life where she could indulge in the occasional suitor that came by the restaurant, flashing a charming smile and an even more charming tip. A life where she could leave the dead-end waitress job she’d had since the child. A life that didn’t lose its freedom at the age of twenty-two.

She often fantasized about having a life at all.

The mother sighed and rubbed her arms. There were a few bruises from being gripped too tightly by him during a particularly intense moment of the fight. She had to get out. She had suffered too much for too long. Her baby would understand, she thought, as she gave him another hug.

But she watched as the child, eyes bleary, arms stretched, quietly asked, Have you made up yet? It’s really embarrassing when you guys fight.

And in that moment, the mother knew that she had raised her son all wrong. He would never understand. She had never allowed him to.

She recoiled from him as if stung, and he coolly got up, slung on his backpack, and walked out the door. He walked out so easily.

Suddenly, she felt like throwing up. Four walls fell from the heavens and thudded around her; they began to collapse inward, crushing, squeezing, and she could not breathe.

The walls bore pictures of her life: her child, her parents, him, and finally, her discarded hopes and dreams: her as a doctor, as a musician, as an anything.

She approached the pictures of dreams as they approached her; fingers trembling, she reached out, if only to touch one, maybe once, just to give in and feel free for onc–

The pictures fell, and shattered.

Her fantasies lay at her feet, and she choked back a sob when she realized that she could not fit them back together.

She looked up, eyes streaming, and the walls vanished. She set her jaw as she noticed the half-open door, left ajar by her little boy. Maybe he did understand.

The mother shakily cleaned up her son’s half-eaten breakfast and walked out, leaving the front door open, leaving her shoes off, and leaving her prison for good.

As she approached the bridge, she stared at the fence running across it, another thing designed to encage. Impulsively, she swung one leg up, then the other, until she had climbed the whole thing. She landed on the other side, the free side, and still felt empty. She did not see her son standing with her, half a mile away. Maybe if she had, she would’ve known just how much he understood.

The salty air felt nice, though, licking at her face like that little dog her baby was so obsessed with. She smiled as she thought her son, the cute little thing that had ended her life. She smiled as she thought of him, and how he could never hurt her again, because she was done. She had left.

The dark grey clouds littered across the sky were swollen, pregnant with rain, and she wept for them, for they would soon feel empty, too.

The last one was the father. The father bores me, I’ll be honest.

After the fight last night, he knew their marriage, and consequently, their family, was doomed. And he grieved, because he loved having a marriage. He loved his son. But they both were disappointments, in the end.

Even before his son pulled the all-nighter to await the results, the father knew that the boy was not college-bound. He simply was not cut out for it.

The father had stopped physically disciplining the kid as punishment years ago, because it yielded no better results, and honestly, he just felt bad doing it. The kid still flinched preemptively whenever telling him a bad test score, which broke his heart a little. He loved his son. He’d do anything for him. He just wished his son could do anything.

The father sighed as he woke up on the fateful morning, painfully aware that the sheets next to him were unwrinkled. She’d probably slept on the sofa again.

He got out of bed, and remembered that the kid had probably already heard from all the colleges. He sighed again, sharing in the boy’s probable disappointment, and went over to a shelf in his room with many dusty, pruney binders upon it.

He pulled one out (the only one with stuff in it) and flipped through the pages. There they were, husband and wife, a duo of strangers in a hospital room, held together by the small bundle that they held together.

He flipped some more. The kid, now age five, happily playing with the wife in the pool. The wife studying for the MCAT (what a waste of money, honestly). The kid’s first report card. All A’s.

The father squinted his eyes and pawed several pages over. That was the only report card he’d included.

The pictures became less time-condensed, and now showed various, pivotal moments, only included because they seemed like they should’ve been included.

Their 15th wedding anniversary photo. Neither smiling.

The son, entering high school.

The dog they’d found at some pet-adoption clinic.

And suddenly, something magical happened. His mind began stringing all the photos together; acutely, painfully, he was able to remember every moment in his life between the first and last photos in the album.

He remembered beating the kid a little too hard, one time, and then spending the next month apologizing to him and trying to make it up.

He remembered all the nights he’d stay up crying in the bathroom because he loved the child so much but always ended up hurting him.

He remembered the huge fight they’d had after that anniversary dinner, and how she had mentioned, icily, that she had someone waiting for her as soon as she left this god-awful marriage.

And he remembered her, in all her vengeful, spiteful glory, and how they just never seemed to be able to love each other. They had their good days, where they could be friends, even joke with one another. The kid looked so happy on those days.

They also had their bad days, where it seemed like they never spoke in a voice much quieter than a yell. They had so very many bad days.

He flipped to one last picture, on the very last page. One he didn’t remember seeing. It was a picture of the mother and kid, after the fight last night. Her arms were bruised, red and purple and blotchy, and she was assuring the kid that it would be okay, that they’d work something out tomorrow.

And the father realized that he was the reason for his failed marriage, the reason for his failure of a son son’s failures, the reason for why he failed at finding something as simple as happiness.

With a high-pitched wail, he began ripping the pages out of the album, frenzied and wild and shrieking as they fluttered lightly to the ground.

He was sobbing as he dug his hands through the scraps, trying his best to reassemble the photos of the boy, of the child he loved so very much. He could not.

He burst through the front door, which had been left ajar, and stormed out. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know what he was doing. But in that instant, he hated himself to a degree he did not think was possible.

And as he climbed over the fence on the bridge that loyally protected passerby from the elements, he knew that this felt right. The salty sea air licked at his face, reminding him of the stupid mutt the boy had wanted, that had loved them all so dearly. He missed it, just a little.

The dark grey clouds cast across the sky drew together, like a sinister blanket, smothering and choking out the sun. He felt as evil as they were.

What happens next really amazed me.

This family, this cast of misfits...they stood there, admiring nothing in particular, and then they jumped.

They lept off the bridge, far away from each other and yet simultaneously. It had to have been rehearsed.

And as their bodies, as motionless and limp as their lives had been, splashed into the dark far, far below, they did not cry out. They did not scream as their bodies were flattened, crushed against the water’s surface. And if they were crying, no one could tell.

What really made me choke up is that they sank, cooly and languidly, and seemingly magnetized towards one another. Their limbs awkwardly and idly lolled about, and at times I swear they looked like they were trying to embrace one another; a comforting, caring, loving family–but they never did. These sad, pathetic, broken puzzle pieces, they were never made to fit.

#short story

0 notes