#I’ve thought about us cuddling on the couch if I’m having nightmares and can’t sleep. he will recite fairy tales to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

Text

Part Four. "You hosted me?? In MINECRAFT??"

warnings: swearing but that’s it (i think)! just karl being a goof and dream being a little shit but whats new word count: 3k (not ncluding pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

**********

Y/n sat to Karl's left, out of the camera's view as he scrolled through Twitter on his PC.

"Um... oh, how did you guys meet?" Karl read before looking offscreen at Y/n. "Uh... school?"

"What? I was going to make up a funny story but I'm appalled by the seriousness in your voice! Is that really how you think we met?"

The embarrassment on his face answered her question. "Karl! I'm two years younger than you, how would we meet have met at school?"

"I don't know!" he said back defensively, raising his shoulders. "Clubs?"

"Like I was in any of the nerd clubs you were in."

"Well, then, how did we meet?"

Y/n sighed with a laugh. "Our moms–"

"Oh, wait wait, I remember!" he cut her off, excitedly looking towards Y/n. "Our moms are friends and they forced us to hang out." He smiled proudly and looked back to his screen as he continued scrolling for good questions. "If I'm honest, I only still hang out with you because my mom makes me."

Y/n smacked Karl's arm and he laughed but pretended to be hurt. "WHAT THE HONK, BUGSY?!"

"I can't stand you. I barely hit you, nimrod."

Karl giggled and read another one. "How tall is Bugsy? Two feet, four inches."

"No, I'm 7'6," Y/n lied easily and Karl laughed.

"How tall are you actually?"

'I think 5'10 or something? Maybe 5'11. I'm not 6' but I'm taller than you for sure, I know that much–"

"Okay, you are not taller than me. Just to be clear. Chat, Bugsy is not taller than me."

"Yes, I am. Wanna test it?"

"No," he replied quietly in defeat.

"Because you know I'm right," Y/n laughed as her eyes flicked over to read chat. They were spamming their surprise, expecting her to be short. "Yeah, no, chat, I'm tall. I'm taller than Karl."

"Only because your shoes make you tall! Doc Martens are tall and that's pretty much all you wear!"

"You're shorter than me when I'm barefoot!"

"That's literally false. Like completely."

"Just accept it, shorty."

"I'll accept that you're taller than George and Sapnap, but not me. I'm barely taller than you but I'm still taller."

"Whateverrrr. I'll move on to protect your dignity."

Karl ignored her and laughed, pointing to a message from Dream in Karl's chat.

"Dream said I have short girl energy," Y/n read.

"You kinda do."

"What does that even mean?"

"You're shy around new people and you act all sweet."

"So tall girls can't be shy and sweet? Or shy and sweet girls can't be tall?"

"Stop twisting my words," Karl groaned.

"Also, wait, what do you mean I act sweet? Am I not?"

"No, you are. But I mean you also aren't when you don't want to be. Upset Bugsy is scary Bugsy."

Y/n frowned, not recalling a time she's ever been angry or upset at Karl but she let him move on. He pointed to another tweet as he looked at Y/n, giving her an 'I told you so' look. She read it before shaking her head at him.

"Don't read that one."

"Pleeease, can I answer?"

"No!" she whisper-shouted. I don't want to be shipped with him for asking or you for answering, she mouthed so Karl's chat couldn't put together clues.

"Are you assuming I'll answer positively?" he teased, earning him a hard smack on the arm.

Y/n couldn't help but notice every time she put her hands in the frame, which was usually to hit Karl, half of the chat turned into simps requesting a hand pic because they could see her bracelets and nail polish and now that they knew she was tall they wanted to see how big her hands were. They really wanted every crumb of content they could have regarding her looks. She caught one that said something pretty kinky about her hands which she tried to scrub from her mind immediately.

"Fine," Karl sighed at her request to not read Dream's tweet out loud, instead reading another. "Bestie sleepover? Yes! Bestie sleepover! Bugsy and I are gonna cuddle all night--"

"No, we aren't. I'm sleeping on a completely different bed. Or couch. Nowhere near you."

"WHY DO YOU HATE ME?"

"Karl! Stop trying to get me to cuddle with you!" Y/n laughed as she pushed away his arms, which were trying to give her a hug. "You're a freaking heater and I don't like touching people!"

"That's my worst nightmare in a friend, how did I end up with you?"

"No idea. Deal with it. It's still a bestie sleepover even if we don't cuddle."

Karl giggled and looked back at his stream. "Oh, by the way, in case anyone ever wanted to know or was Dreaming about it, Bugsy is very cute. Just thought I'd mention it in case anyone was wondering or if anyone tweeted specifically asking..."

Y/n smacked his arm again as she yelled, "Karl!"

He grabbed his arm in dramatic pain as if it had been cut off. "Ow! Ow! Bugsy hit me!" he cried as he fell to the floor. "Oh my gosh. Someone call a doctor!"

"I cannot stand you," Y/n informed as she stared down at him. She glanced at chat, who were all joking about how bad his condition was, saying things like they might have to amputate his arm. "Chat, don't encourage him. Oh, Karl I know what we can do!"

"As long as I don't need two arms for it..." his voice still laced with fake pain.

"Karl Jacobs."

"What is it?"

"Give me a tour of Dream's SMP. Dream whitelisted me yesterday."

"Oh, yeah! What could have possibly made you think of him?" he teased as he got back in his chair.

Y/n glared at him and he cowered slightly.

"Minecraft, yes. There's a PC in the other room you can play on. Do you need help setting it up?"

"No, I've streamed once or twice," Y/n teased as she stood up.

"I'm just trying to be a good host! Gosh!"

"Wait, I have to cross over to leave the room."

"Just do it? What's the issue? Literally no problem, just walk?" he joked before zooming in his camera on his face so it took up the whole screen. Y/n laughed as she went across the room, chat now forced to look at disturbingly close footage of Karl staring directly into the camera with his eyes crossed.

Y/n called Karl on Discord after logging in. "Hi, Karl and Karl's stream."

"Are you on yet?"

"I'm logging in to my Minecraft account right now."

"Okay, join a vc on the smp discord so others can talk to us if we run into anyone. I'll be over in a minute, just give me a bit to read some donations." They both muted, leaving Y/n to herself.

She typed in the IP address to the server and joined a random voice channel that no one was in. She spawned and looked around, confused by the cobblestone wall around her. Her phone lit up so she occupied herself with the texts from Naomi.

A green figure caught her eye on the screen and she looked up. In the distance was Dream's infamous green Minecraft skin punching the air as he faced her. He ran towards her and stopped in front of her. She set her phone down and slid it away, crouching as his character did the same.

Dream whispers to you: are you streaming you whisper to Dream: no but Karl is and he's about to get on to tour me Dream whispers to you: hmmm okay here

He uncrouched and dropped a few diamond blocks before punching the air again and running away.

Dream whispers to you: shh don’t tell anyone you whisper to Dream: omg :D ty <3 you whisper to Dream: first twitch donos now mc donos you whisper to Dream: rich man over here giving out money and diamonds to everyone like it's candy Dream whispers to you: no, only to you Dream whispers to you: a little gift before our date ;) Dream whispers to you: oh and this

He came back and paused in front of Y/n before dropping a red poppy and sprinting away again. She acted cool despite the huge smile on her face.

you whisper to Dream: charming you whisper to Dream: you give me a flower and dart away before I can properly thank you Dream whispers to you: oh yeah? how would you have thanked me?

Y/n smiled, her cheeks flaming up as a dirty thought entered her mind. Stop, he's not flirting, she told herself. It’s literally a block game and he’s not flirting.

you whisper to Dream: guess we'll never know ;) KarlJacobs joined the game

"I'm back," Karl's voice filled her headset as he joined her voice channel, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Where are you?"

Y/n looked away from the chat in Minecraft and turned around in the game. "Still at spawn. Some forest and cobblestone walls."

"Go left and I'll meet you halfway."

As she ran, the Minecraft chat reappeared with new messages for everyone to see.

<Dream> hey Karl <KarlJacobs> hello Dream <Dream> thanks for answering my question on your stream <KarlJacobs> just doing my civil duty as a bugsy dream shipper <KarlJacobs> official petition for the name to be dreamsy <Dream> signed

"Oh my gosh," Y/n muttered, making Karl laugh.

"What?" Karl asked innocently, but his laugh was maniacal. "Oh, I found you. This way! I built everything on the server, by the way. So if anything is impressive, just remember that I did it."

"Karl, that's the biggest lie you've ever told me. I watch the lore videos."

"Well, I did build it all so I don't know what to tell you. Let's go this way first."

Y/n followed as he showed her stuff, including background and unknown facts about things that have happened off stream. After the tour, they messed around the chessboard. At some point, she found a blue cornflower and turned to Karl.

"Do you have an anvil?"

"I don't exactly have one on me at the moment but I think there's one over here. What for?"

She killed some chickens with her fist to gain XP so she could carry out the task in mind. "I need to name this flower I found." She followed him a few blocks away and clicked the anvil and named the flower 'love, bug'. "Okay, thanks."

"Why did you name it?"

"It's a gift for someone."

"Me?" he asked as his character jumped up and down.

"No. My presence is your gift."

"Ouch. You know, honestly, I'm really hurt by that. Like, why would you say that to me? It's just sorta rude."

"Fine, I'll go get you a flower."

"Well, I don't want it if it isn't sincere. Who's that one for?"

"...no one."

"Tell me or I'll keep complaining about not getting a gift."

"I can deal with that."

"Okay, then tell me or I'll make you sleep in my bed and I'll smother you to death with my affection."

"Ah, okay, fine. It's for Dream."

"Wow you really hate me that much!" Karl laughed.

"No, I'm just not touchy like you!" she defended. She always worried she offended Karl since he was so physically affectionate towards his friends but she just wasn't a physical person.

"Oh, speaking of Dream..." he turned and Y/n followed his characters line of sight, having to zoom in to see the green figure perched at the top of a tree.

"He's very menacing."

"He does that."

<Bugsy> come here pls dream <Bugsy> i have a gift :]

Dream ran towards Y/n and stopped in front of her expectedly. She looked at Karl then back at Dream and dropped the gift, backing up after and crouching.

His character picked it up and held it, pausing to read the name. After a moment, he slowly looked up at Y/n's character before jumping and spinning in circles. Y/n hid her smile in her sleeve even though no one could see her.

<Dream> wait lemme see the one I gave you <Bugsy> what D: <Dream> I wanna name it

"What is going on?" Karl giggled.

"Gift exchange. Mind your own business."

"Woah!" Karl gasped dramatically. "Uncalled for."

Dream came back and dropped the renamed flower for her. Y/n picked it up and hovered over it to read the name.

'host, dream'

She gasped and started punching his character. He backed up and ran away but joined the call seconds later.

"Wait! Stop hitting me!" Dream yelled into her headset.

Y/n laughed, trying to contain her smile as she continued to hit the green character. "Dream! Are you kidding? I tried being all cute and you hosted me?? In MINECRAFT??"

"It was a joke! You said something like that to Wilbur on Twitter a while ago, I was just using your humor!" Dream's giggles filled Y/n's headphones and she smiled but quickly dropped it so her voice could sound serious.

"Give it back."

Dream looked at her before letting out a small, "What?"

"Give me back the flower so I can go burn it with the other one."

"Bugsy!"

"What is going on?" Karl asked through a cackle. "Dream, did you hurt Bugsy??"

"Yes, Karl! He hurt my feelings! He gave me a flower and gave it back to name it something mean!"

Dream just laughed so Y/n punched him again.

"Dream! You can't hurt Bugsy!" Karl defended, also punching Dream.

All Y/n could hear was the sound of Dream wheezing, his character running as the two chased him. "Stop! You guys are so– STOP HITTING ME!"

"Fine," Y/n finally said, crouching and facing the ground as she walked into a corner to look like she was pouting. "I'm just not going to go on any Minecraft dates anymore."

"Wait, no," Dream protested in a soft voice, his character stopping to look at her's. "Take that back."

"Heart been broke so many times..."

"You're so stupid."

Karl gasped happily. "You guys have a Minecraft date? Can I help plan it?!"

"We did. In exchange for letting you give me the tour. But I've changed my mind since I've been so betrayed."

"Oh my gosh, you're so..." Dream trailed off but his wide smile could be heard through his voice.

"So what? Finish that sentence, Dream," Y/n dared teasingly.

"So... ANNOYING!"

"DREAM! SAY YOU'RE SORRY!" Karl yelled.

"Okay! I'm sorry! Bug, I'm so sorry. Really. Please let me... let me rename your flower something cute. It'll make you so happy that you'll fall in love with me all over again and–and we can go on our date. Please don't burn our flowers."

"And what if I don't give them to you?"

"I'll just kill you and pick them off your corpse."

"Woooooowwww. Okay, it's like that?"

"Yes, it is like that," he said through a smile. It was so apparent in his voice that he was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

<Ranboo> how is the tour going Bugsy was shot by Dream using DEFINITELY NOT PENIS <Ranboo> ah going well I see

Bugsy screamed in her mic as the death screen appeared. "DREAM!"

"You took too long!" He wheezed as Bugsy respawned.

"I don't know where I am!"

"Hold on, I'll avenge you!" Karl declared before he died too.

"You thought you could kill me with your fists? Karl, you're naked and I'm wearing full Netherite."

"You weren't when I started punching you! You pulled that out of thin air!"

<Ranboo> canon

Y/n smiled at Ranboo's comment. She had never talked to him but she knew he and Tubbo were close friends and he seemed really funny. He had already proved he had a dry sense of humor in the 30 minutes she was on the SMP and she loved that. Y/n made a mental note to befriend him before returning to being drama queen to Dream.

"So, Dream, now that you've made me an enemy–"

"WhAT? We are not enemies, Bug. I'm actually naming a flower something really cute as we speak. Enemies don't do that."

"Maybe I'm not your enemy but you sure are mine."

"Oh come on now," he mumbled lowly, running chills down her spine. What the hell was that?? "What do I have to do to make it up to you?"

"You-you murdered me in cold blood. Nothing will make it up."

"So I could get the flower! It was out of love! So I could give you a better present! Does that count for nothing?"

"Hm," she hummed. "We'll see what new name you come up with and then I'll decide."

Karl and Y/n got back to the chessboard and waited for Dream to return with his new flower.

Breaking character and turning towards her best friend, Y/n laughed at Karl. "Sorry for distracting from our BFF shenanigans time."

"This is way more entertaining," Karl assured. "Me and my chat got front row seats to the Dreamsy love saga."

"Shut up," she mumbled as she punched him in-game.

"OW! STOP PUNCHING ME SO MUCH!"

"Okay, okay, I'm back!!" Dream announced and they saw his figure sprinting and jumping towards them. He dropped the flower for Y/n and stepped back, crouching and standing repeatedly.

Y/n picked up the flower and hovered over it to read the name.

"Is it worthy of your forgiveness, Bugsy? Does it pass the vibe check?" Karl asked with a giggle.

Y/n bit her lip as she smiled at her screen.

to the prettiest girl in the world. love, dream <3

It was a joke, obviously. He was just continuing the joke of flirting with her like he does on Twitter just like Sapnap and Karl and George and Quackity do. They all joke about flirting with her and this was another joke.

But it still gave her tummy butterflies.

"Bug?" Dream called softly.

But why would he joke like that when neither of them were streaming? Karl's chat wouldn't see it so there was no one to point in feeding into the joke, unless he meant for Y/n to show Karl? She was overthinking. She needed to play it cool.

She also needed an enderchest so no one could find it and no one could take it away from her and destroy it but they didn’t need to know she liked it that much.

"Mmm.... it'll do."

**********

PREVIOUS | NEXT

**********

A/N: yeeee hope you guys liked this one! i think this is my favorite so far i just think dream was being too cute and i wanna be best friends with karl so much it hurts. we’re gonna get deeper into the dream relationship soon!! i just needed to indugle in bff karl content real quick!!!

taglist: open (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn @itshaileyn @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @bellomi-clarke @possiblyanxioushuman

#rpf #real person fiction #dream x reader #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x y/n #social media fic #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #smau #mcty x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #dream fanfiction #dreamwastaken fanfiction

991 notes · View notes

fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Text

Bad Day - Bucky Barnes x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! this is for the amazing @animnerd ‘s 100 followers challenge!! give her all the love, she deserves it so much!!! this came out a little bit longer than a usual drabble, but i hope you enjoy<3

Summary: Bucky comforts you about your bad day, and also puts things into perspective:)

Word Count: 700

Warnings: one bad language word:)

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

"You wouldn't believe the day I've had," you sighed, plopping down on the couch.

You had just gotten home from your job after a long day. It's been a long week, honestly. There was so much work to do, and you usually liked your work, but this week it was just so boring. Right now, all you wanted was to cuddle up with your super soldier boyfriend on the couch, watch a movie and fall asleep midway.

"Awww," he pouted in sympathy, "What happened?"

He gently lifted your head from where you were laying on the couch so he could sit down, returning your head to rest on his thighs and stroking your hair.

"It's just been such a long day," you whined, "Barbra wouldn't stop giving me shit today over the smallest stuff. We've been closing the paperwork this entire week and I know it's necessary but it's so boring could fall asleep right at my desk, which I almost have, countless times, but today was just a whole new level of focus on the grittiest, most annoying details. Ugh, at least the nightmare's finally over."

"Yeah, and now I get to have you all to myself," he grinned, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, making you giggle.

You hummed in agreement. "But I'm warning you, there's a high chance I'm falling asleep. I'm so tired," you sighed, making him laugh and reassure you it'd be fine. "But what about you?" you asked, "How was your day? Your week? I feel like I've been so tormented by my own shit I didn't ask," you smiled timidly, your eyes locking with his.

"Oh, well," he shrugged. "Long. I got up at like 2 am."

"What?" you frowned, "why?"

Bucky usually got up before you, so you didn't think anything of it when you woke up to an empty bed this morning. But usually he'd go on a run, and be back only after you were already gone for work, although if you were running late you'd get to tell him good morning on your way out. Not get up at 2 am, after what, two hours of sleep?

"Yeah, I hoped my phone didn't wake you up. We got called on mission. They told us it was short, so I didn't wake you up to tell you, figured we'd talk about it today. It was supposed to be a couple of days, but turns out we got shitty intel. We were supposed to go in today, at night, but when we got there at the early hours of the morning turned out we needed to go pretty much immediately. Long story short, we got the bad guys, but we went in severely unprepared. Wilson nearly- Sam got himself shot in the arm. Anyways, Steve was pissed when we got back. You shoulda seen him, guy was as red as a tomato. Not for nothing though. Fury got a hell of a mouthful, and we all had to sit there and watch, since you can't exactly walk out of a room in the middle of that," he chuckled.

"Yeah," you scoffed. "Tell me about it. I once saw him yell at Tony for disappearing with a smoke bomb in the middle of a briefing. Very awkward. Although I would've loved to at least see Tony do that, instead of just being there for the aftermath."

"Oh yeah, I remember that," he laughed. "Anyways, only after Steve was done we got to go to the med bay. Sam's gonna be fine, but it was a close call."

"I can't believe I was complaining about my day," you facepalmed, embarrassed, "I feel so stupid.

"Awww," he smiled, taking your hands in his and getting them off your face. "It's fine," he mumbled, pressing kisses to your face between his words, "I like that you have a normal life, doll. Besides, you're cute when you pout."

You laughed, reaching your hand behind his neck and pulling him down for a tender kiss. You were so grateful you could have him in your life, to rant about your small problems and support you through the bigger ones. You were so lucky.

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

tell me your thoughts!!! and again, happy 100 followers lovely @animnerd !! you deserve every single one and more, ily<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash @imvivian @sleutherclaw @farzanam2004

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes drabble #sebastian stan x reader

142 notes · View notes

caws5749 · 3 years

Text

Dazed and Confused, The Quarantine Series, pt. 35

A/N: FINALLLYYYYYY!! I'll be writing a TON tonight (or at least, that’s my plan, which may very well change). I’m enjoying writing so much, and perhaps it will turn a bit into a DWN

Masterlist

By the time Natasha had returned with the food, you’d fallen fast asleep. Talia was so exhausted that she would probably sleep through the night and when Nat saw you on the couch, your neck bent at an angle that looked less than comfortable, she knew you’d probably do the same.

“Hey,” she murmured, gently rubbing her hand along the length of your arm. “I’ve got food.”

“Mmmm... ow.”

“Yeah, you fell asleep at a weird angle.”

“I can tell,” you grumbled, stretching. “Thanks for picking up the food, baby.”

Your girlfriend nodded, opening the bags and handing you some food. “Think she’ll wake?” she asked, nodding at the sleeping little girl across the room.

“With the smell of the food, maybe. But she’s exhausted. I probably would have slept through the night if you hadn’t have woken me.”

“Probably,” Natasha agreed, taking a seat next to you and taking a bite of her food.

“Steve got a little too happy watching us with a kid,” you stated after a few minutes of silence. Though your girlfriend was exhausted beyond belief, her eyes widened significantly as she recalled that moment from earlier. When she didn’t say anything, you turned to look at her. Her expression was unreadable, a neutral mask placed carefully on her face. You weren’t quite sure why.

“What is it?” you prodded gently.

“Nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired and can’t think straight.”

Not wanting to push and not quite having the energy to even do so, you nodded and focused on the food in front of you. All you wanted to do after eating was to curl up and go to sleep with Nat, but you couldn’t do that and it was starting to dampen your already low spirits. On top of that, you would be sleeping on the couch for the evening.

“Should have set her down on the couch,” you joked.

“Trying to get into bed with me that badly?” Nat smirked.

“Yes,” you answered seriously, though you were overcome with a fit of giggles two seconds later. At your antics, your girlfriend rolled her eyes.

“You need sleep.”

“So do you, the bags under your eyes are designer.”

++++++

A high pitched scream had you shooting up, your hands out in front of you as you tried to assess the threat. After a few seconds of looking around, you found nothing, save for a five year old who was thrashing about on your bed, clearly having a nightmare.

You scrambled off of the couch and towards Talia, shaking her gently.

“Talia, hey, sweetheart, you’re okay,” you soothed, your heart beating rapidly at the fear that shone in the child’s eyes. She cried out a phrase, one in a language that you couldn’t understand. After Talia repeated it, you recognized it as most likely Arabic, but you still couldn’t understand. Thoughts flashed through your mind quickly as you wondered whether or not Natasha spoke Arabic. You were fairly certain she knew a bit, even if she wasn’t fluid, and so after a few more moments of Talia crying, you quickly ran from the room with the promise that you’d return.

Nat had stopped locking her door at night after a few months of dating you and so you had no trouble running into the room. At the first sound of her door opening, your girlfriend was up and was out of the bed within seconds.

“She had a nightmare and she’s only repeating phrases in Arabic and-”

“She’ll be okay, Y/N.”

You could only hope that was true as you both rushed back into your room. Natasha was by Talia’s side in less than a second and was quietly murmuring to her in fluent Arabic. The girl quieted promptly at the recognition of her first language, going as far as to scramble into your girlfriend’s lap. Though a bit shocked, Nat scooped her up and rocked her back and forth.

Sighing quietly, you sat down on the couch, feeling relieved. You took the moment to worry about the little girl, before thinking of your girlfriend. Once again, she’d done what no other person could seem to do. As she sat there with Talia on her lap, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell. This was a woman who’d done countless for you, loved you unconditionally, supported you through everything, and was now waking up in the middle of the night to help a child she didn’t even know.

You had already been wondering if she was the one, like truly the one, but you couldn’t be more certain in this moment. You knew you’d marry her.

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even realize how silent the room had become.

“What are you thinking about?” your girlfriend asked softly. Catching her gaze, you could tell she was amused and had seen the smile on your lips.

“You,” you shrugged, before focusing on Talia. “She’s asleep.”

“I’m afraid to move her.”

“Maybe in a few minutes you can move her. She’ll be further into sleep.”

“What were you thinking about me?” Natasha asked.

“How much I love you.”

“And how much do you love me?”

You laughed quietly at her antics. “More than you know.”

Quiet fell as she took in your words.

“Enough to want to marry you,” you added, a whisper.

“You want to marry me.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement, but you couldn’t tell whether it was born from a place of fear or happiness.

“If you don’t want to or - it’s fi-”

“Y/N, stop. If I could come over there, I’d slap you and then kiss you. Of course I want to marry you. Just maybe not right now.”

A tear fell down your cheek from happiness. Someone wanted to marry you. The love of your life wanted to marry you. Natasha Romanoff wanted to marry you.

At your tear, Nat must have thought something different, because she gently set Talia down on the bed before moving over to you.

“I do want to marry you, Y/N,” she repeated, pulling you into your arms and pressing her lips to your forehead.

“No, babe, I’m not sad, I’m happy,” you cried, more tears flowing. Pushing you back, Natasha’s thumbs wiped at your cheeks, shaking her head with a slight smirk.

“Will you cry this much at our wedding?”

“Probably more,” you admitted with a watery chuckle. When you yawned a moment later, Nat kissed your cheek before standing.

“I think we should go back to sleep.”

“But you just told me you wanted to marry me,” you pouted.

“And I will tell you again in the morning.”

++++++

“Baby, wake up.”

You sighed, rubbing at your eyes before finally opening them to a beautiful red-head.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled, amused. “Bruce wants to give Talia a check up. He’s worried about some of those cuts and bruises.”

You turned your head to look over at the girl still sleeping in the bed. You looked back at Natasha. “She’s probably not going to like that.”

“She’ll be scared,” Nat agreed, before tapping your thigh lightly. “But, it has to be done. Come on.”

“No, cuddle with me.”

“There’s no room on that couch. You’re a space hog.”

“That’s not true,” you lied, knowing full well it was.

“You have to get ready. He expects Talia at nine,” she replied. You sighed, yawning before sitting up. When you did, Natasha rewarded you with a kiss, one that you wished lasted longer.

“I’ll be in the kitchen with Talia after I wake her.”

++++++

By the time you’d stumbled into the kitchen still half asleep, Bruce was speaking to Natasha and Talia. With Talia seemingly doing okay with Bruce, Nat stepped towards the coffee maker to speak with you.

“He wanted to get acquainted, make her feel a bit more comfortable,” she explained.

“It seems to be working,” you nodded, pouring yourself some coffee.

“Do those cuts and bruises hurt?” Bruce asked, causing you to turn your head. You didn’t think he’d begin the visit in the kitchen, but perhaps he thought it would make it easier.

“Not really.”

“Good, that’s good.”

He continued asking a few questions, you and Nat listening in. When it came time for the physical exam, he asked that you make your way to the med bay. Talia didn’t seem too phased, making you feel a bit calmer about the entire experience. She let Bruce push on her abdomen, look at her cuts, and even wash them out. The only thing she requested was hot chocolate after the ordeal, which you were happy to provide.

As you were sitting on the couch in the living room with her watching a movie after her exam, Steve came up to the three of you. He looked apologetic, which puzzled the other two adults in the room.

“Steve, what is it?” Natasha asked.

“There’s a social worker here for Talia.”

“They’re taking her away? Just like that?” you questioned, already standing.

“No,” Steve shook his head, holding his hands up to get you to stop for a second. “They just want to talk to her and see if they can figure something out. They can’t just leave her here.”

You knew that was true; you knew that she couldn’t stay here with you and it’s not like you’d even thought about having her stay but you certainly hadn’t wanted her to be taken away. Though you knew all of these things, you left the room, tears brewing in your eyes for a reason you couldn’t quite distinguish.

“Y/N.”

You kept walking, ignoring the threat of tears falling down your cheeks. But your girlfriend didn’t stop, chasing after you until finally catching you down a few hallways.

“Y/N, stop.”

Her hand caught your upper arm, tugging and turning you around. Shock crossed Nat’s face as she was met with tears.

“Y/N, what’s- why are you crying? I know it’s upsetting but-”

“I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what?” Natasha questioned calmly.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.”

#Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x femreader #Natasha Romanoff x you #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #mine #mcu #avengers #avengers x reader #marvel #dazed and confused #the quarantine series #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #black widow movie #natasha x reader

104 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Tell the Truth

Prompts: aaaa the way you write angst is just *chefs kiss* wonderful. I’ve been really enjoying the butterfly project series, it has made me cry multiple times. May I request some fluff to balance the angst? - anon

Excuse me while I sob over Redemption Never Came and politely grabby hand for more angst with a happy ending (Roman angst my beloved) (Also you are an amazing fanfic artist :D) - anon

This is so heartbreaking and whumpy but so soft in the end and I would devour a second part about everyone trying to help undo all the negative patterns they've all instilled in Roman and just showing him affection and everyone's hearts breaking a little more each time he's surprised they actually want to be around him. - LadyofhteWoods

And now a part of me wants to see all those scenarios again, only this time Roman gets loved- walk in the kitchen, get a hug. Sit on the couch? Cuddle pile. Go on a quest? Bring friends, if hurt, patch up and movies. Crying in bed because you had a bad time and your brain is screaming that you suck and a wave of depression has rippled through you and you feel horrible? Have some tea… cry it out…. We’re here. - A_tiny_star_prince

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: self-doubt, self-deprecating thoughts

Pairings: dlampr

Word Count: 7688

Roman lies. A lot. Maybe it's time they did something about it.

Roman’s lies don’t vanish overnight. How could they? When he’s so used to repeating them, over and over, in a horrific little mantra before he goes to sleep, how can he be expected to get rid of them in only one night?

That doesn’t make them less difficult to hear.

Janus is downstairs, helping Virgil fold up one of the blankets strewn about the living room, when he winces and hisses.

“J? You okay?”

Janus nods, jerking his head upward. Virgil follows his gaze and winces too.

“…Princey?”

“I think so.” That’s a lie. He knows it’s Roman.

“I got this,” Virgil says quietly, taking the blanket from Janus, “you go. He seems to let you help more than he lets us.”

He never really had the choice to let me.

Janus swallows heavily as he appears outside Roman’s door. The lies aren’t nearly as poisonous as they were a few days ago, but they’re strong enough to curl his tongue at the bitterness in his throat. He raises a hand to knock on the door.

The lies falter for a moment before another one floats through.

Don’t come in.

He smirks, gently pushing the door open to meet a darkened room.

“Impressive,” he says softly, making his way over to the figure in the bed and perching on the end, “that could’ve been one of mine.”

He’s rewarded with the quietest of huffs before a head shyly peeks out at him from the covers. Janus smiles and tilts his head.

“Hello, sweetie.”

“Hi.” Roman shuffles a little. “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was summoning you.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Janus glances around the room. His computer is off and shut. The bathroom light and fan are off. He looks back. “Can I help, sweetie?”

A shuffling of the blankets that’s probably supposed to be a shrug.

“Let me come find you, then,” he murmurs, standing and moving to where the head was a moment ago, “how did you get this many blankets on top of you?”

He slowly starts to move them out of the way, peeling back layer after layer, only briefly wondering whether or not Roman can breathe properly under these. It’s a careful act, one he treats with the same reverence as cleaning his gloves or his scales, creating a little cocoon of blankets as he gets further and further into the covers.

The last one puffs just the slightest amount, up and down.

So you can breathe, good.

Janus doesn’t move this one all the way out of the way, just lifts it up enough to peer inside. Roman’s little face peers back at him, partially covered by another blanket clutched tight to his chest. He looks so…child-like.

The realization makes something warm turn in Janus’s chest.

“Knock knock,” he says softly, “anyone home?”

Roman blinks. “Mm.”

“May I come in, sweetie?”

“Mm.” Roman jerks his chin toward Janus’s clothes. “Lose the sharp bits.”

Janus snaps his fingers, transforming his usual clothes into a soft yellow shirt and sleep pants. “Better?”

“Mm.”

“How did you manage to get so many blankets balanced on your bed,” Janus asks as he slips beside Roman, “mine always fall off after three.”

“Practice.” Roman shifts to make room.

Janus frowns. “Come here, sweetie, let me cuddle you.”

“You don’t have to.”

The frown deepens. “Sweetie?”

Roman buries his face a little deeper into the blanket. “You don’t like cuddling. Virgil an’ Remus said so.”

Oh, Roman…

“Come, sweetie,” he insists, tugging Roman gently into a proper hug, “there.”

“But—but—“

“I may not be as big a fan of cuddling as you and Patton,” Janus says firmly, cupping Roman’s face, “and I’m certainly the type that enjoys being tackled by Remus—“

Roman snorts.

“—but you’re upset,” he finishes gently, “and I want to help.”

Burden.

Needy.

Don’t understand boundaries.

Don’t deserve help.

Janus hisses. Roman sighs.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” he assures, still cradling Roman’s face as he pulls him close, “I understand. It’s alright.”

“I know, and I—I don’t want you to leave, but—“ Roman swallows— “I just—I still don’t believe you’re here.”

Janus wraps a pair of arms around Roman’s waist and squeezes. “I’m real, I’m here.”

“I just—“

There’s another lie swirling in Roman’s brain, too nebulous to make it all the way to Janus, but present enough that it makes his mouth tingle. He leans down to kiss Roman’s forehead.

“…you said it was your job to protect the Ego.”

“That’s right, sweetie, it is.”

“I guess I…I just…”

Janus gives Roman another encouraging squeeze. Roman brings the blanket further up his face.

“…I guess I figured that if you—if you could h-hate me that much or h-hurt me that badly and not—not care, then you…maybe you…”

Janus’s heart clenches as the lie finally makes itself known.

Not worth protecting.

He pulls away, shushing the heartbroken whine that Roman makes, taking off his gloves and wrapping every arm around the poor thing. He presses another kiss to his forehead, letting the hiss out into his hair.

“That’s not true, sweetie,” he promises, “and you’ll never know how sorry I am for hurting you and letting it get this far.”

And the poor thing is so tired, so weary that he goes limp in Janus’s arms, save for the blanket clutched tightly to his face. Janus frowns, opening his mouth to say that might be a little uncomfortable, what with Roman’s arms tucked between them, when he starts putting the pieces together.

Roman is still wearing a fair amount of clothing, he’s got something pressed up against his face, under his chin, and he’s got so many blankets piled on top of him that even Janus feels warm.

“And here I thought I couldn’t feel more rotten,” he whispers, carding one hand through Roman’s hair, another scratching gently between his shoulder blades, “but you must be in agony.”

A questioning hum is let out against his throat.

“You’re still touch starved, sweetie,” he says in way of answering, squeezing a little tighter, “are you still cold?”

There’s a soft rush of breath as Janus cups the back of his neck and then a noise is just about torn from his throat as he uses it to pull Roman close.

“Oh, shh, shh, you poor thing,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to his cheek, “I’m right here, sweetie, I won’t leave you.”

They lie there for a while longer, Roman’s arms slowly lowering the blanket until he shyly puts his arms around Janus in return.

“There you go, sweetie,” he encourages, “hold onto me, that’s it.”

“Why—why are you letting me hug you?”

“Because it seems like you’d like to hug me.” Janus squeezes him again. “You don’t need to have a reason, sweetie, if you need a cuddle, you can have one.”

I need a reason. I need an excuse. I need an argument. I have to convince you.

Another hiss. “You can always ask for hugs, sweetie, you don’t need to convince me to hug you.”

“…really?”

Oh, Roman… “Yes, sweetie, you can ask any of us.”

The wave of disbelief that hits him makes him grit his teeth.

“I promise, sweetie. I promise.” Another kiss to his forehead. “You’re not unwanted, you’re not a burden.”

The silence he gets implies that Roman may not want to prove that—or disprove it—for himself right now.

“…can we just stay here for a bit?”

“For as long as you need, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, settling them in for some rest, “for as long as you want.”

——————————

Patton is in the kitchen, the first one downstairs this morning. There’s already a pot of coffee brewing and he sets the kettle up on the counter. He reaches up to pull the mugs for everyone. The plain black one for Logan, the Nightmare Before Christmas one for Virgil, the sparkly one for Remus, and the blue puppy one for himself. He frowns.

Roman used to keep his mug down here too. This really big red one with a golden crown on the side. He hasn’t seen it in ages.

Footsteps on the stairs.

He turns and sees Roman walk into the kitchen, smiling brightly as if there’s nothing wrong in the world, not a seam or stitch of his prince costume out of place. He strides into the room like he owns it, as if he’s just come down the stairs in his resplendent palace to a crown of adoring onlookers.

“Ah! Patton!” Goodness, he speaks like it too. “Good morning!”

“Roman!” Patton rushes forward and wraps him in a hug.

This is where everything goes wrong.

Roman tenses. Not in a way that means he wants out, but out of sheer surprise. Patton waits for Roman’s arms to wrap around him but instead, there’s just a very, very soft touch to his shoulder.

“Patton,” he asks quietly, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m great, kiddo, why?”

“W-well, you’re…you’re hugging me.”

“Sure am.”

“…why?”

Suddenly Patton feels very cold.

He pulls back, not enough to let Roman go completely, but enough to look up and see a truly heartbreaking look of confusion on his face. He can’t help the soft noise that comes out of his mouth as he raises one hand to his face.

“Are you asking why I’m hugging you?” Roman nods. “I want to hug you, kiddo. You’re hug-shaped.”

“I’m…what?”

“Hug-shaped,” Patton repeats, tugging him a little closer with the arm still around his waist, “you’re worth hugging, I like hugging you.”

“O-oh.”

And Patton has to watch as every scrap of confidence falls from Roman’s expression, his shoulders slump, and he looks like he loses some of his height, even. The shift is so drastic that it almost springs tears to his eyes at how much Prince Roman suddenly looks like a lost child, swimming in a costume too big and too heavy for him. Roman face contorts as he looks at a spot on the counter, furrowing his brow as if it’ll explain everything to him if he just glares hard enough.

There’s something fragile about the way Roman leans into Patton’s hand, something breakable about how warm he is right now. Patton shifts his weight to his other leg and there’s a flash of panic in Roman’s eyes, quickly stifled but there.

“Oh, kiddo, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, pulling Roman back in for a proper hug, “I’m right here, it’s okay. You just let it out, okay?”

Roman’s breathe shudders a little into Patton’s shoulder. Then he starts pushing Patton away.

Patton listens, confused, until he watches Roman shake himself and put the mask of the prince right back on.

“Terribly sorry,” he says in the awful, awful cheerful voice as he rakes a hand through his hair, “don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t,” Patton blurts before he can stop himself, “don’t do that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t do what, Padre?”

“Don’t pretend,” he says, reaching out for Roman again, “you don’t have to pretend you’re okay. Or that you don’t want something.”

“I don’t like being needy, Patton,” Roman says in a soft voice that’s just this side of wobbly, “and you don’t like me needy.”

And doesn’t that just feel hot and guilty in Patton’s throat?

“I like you, sweetheart,” he says instead, “and you’re not being needy if you want comfort or even just a touch. You’re allowed to want something, Roman, you are.”

Roman huffs in disbelief and turns.

“No, Roman—“ Patton hurries to get in front of him— “you are.”

Something flickers across Roman’s expression. Patton doesn’t even need Janus to tell him that Roman thinks he’s walking into a trap.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Patton says quietly, “I’ve hurt you so much, haven’t I? I’ve made you think that your job is wrong, that you—that you’re wrong and you’re not, kiddo. You’re not wrong. You’re not awful. I promise.”

Roman’s lip wobbles.

“Oh, come here, sweetheart,” Patton coos, wrapping him back in a hug, and finally, finally Roman’s arms come up to wrap around him too, before he’s being squeezed so tight it borders on painful.

Patton doesn’t care.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart, I promise.” He rocks them back and forth a little as Roman buries his face in his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, I know we will.”

They stay like that until the kettle goes off and Roman startles, jumping back a little bit. Patton soothes away the last of the jitters and smiles, watching Roman look like…Roman. Not the Prince, not the horribly lost child, just…just Roman.

“I think that’s my cue to make you the biggest mug of hot chocolate you’ve had since Christmas,” he says quietly, “now what mug would you like?”

Roman glances at the cabinet. “Anyone is fine.”

“Then why don’t you go grab one while I get the hot chocolate?”

Patton busies himself with the box, purposely letting Roman have his privacy as he picks out a mug, trying not to make his smile too blinding when he turns and sees Roman shyly hold out a big red mug with a sparkly crown.

“Good choice,” he says softly as he takes it from him, “I missed this mug.”

Judging by the way Roman’s mouth curls up in a little smile, he knows what Patton meant.

——————————

Virgil walks into the room and sees Roman sprawled out across the chair. He almost doesn’t see it.

He’s got to give it to Janus; even though he knows he can hear lies, he’s not sure he would’ve believed that they were actually coming from Roman. Because Roman looks the fucking picture of relaxed right now. It looks like he saw Patton and Logan on the couch and decided there wasn’t enough room for him to take up as much space as he wants. It looks like he’s occupying the entire fucking corner and not just the chair. It looks like he’s every bit the arrogant prince they used to think he was.

Then he sees how tight his jaw is and the slight tremble of his hands.

The room isn’t warm, there’s no reason for Princey to be shivering. There’s certainly no reason for him to be so tense as he sits in the chair, tapping a pen against his cheek in a fabulous impression of mindless thinking but is actually a carefully controlled way of preventing himself from moving any further.

He’s gotta hand it to him. Princey’s good.

Virgil walks up to Roman and shoves his hands into his pockets as Roman looks up.

“Dark and Stormy,” he says in a perfected casual lilt, “is there something I can do for you?”

And wow, okay, if this is what Janus hears all the time then Virgil has no idea how he fucking does it.

Janus hears lies, Virgil hears fears.

Please don’t make me leave.

If you want the chair I’l give it to you, I’ll move, I’ll sit on the floor, I’ll be quiet, but please don’t make me go. I want to stay, please, can I—can I stay? Is that okay?

Virgil tilts his head. “Move the book.”

Roman furrows his brow. “What?”

“The book.” Virgil nods to the notebook in Roman’s lap. “Move it. Move your arm.”

Confused, Roman does as he asks only to squeak in surprise when Virgil pronounces it perfect and plonks himself in Roman’s lap.

“Virgil!”

“Yeah?” Virgil pulls out his phone and leans his head against Roman’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

“You—you’re—“ Roman still doesn’t move— “you’re in my lap.”

“Sure am.” Virgil looks up at him and lowers his voice to a whisper. “No?”

Roman’s voice drops too. “What?”

Virgil indicates his weight. “No? This okay?”

“Y-yeah, it’s fine, I just—what?”

In lieu of a verbal answer, Virgil reaches behind him to take Roman’s free hand and pull it close, tucking it under his chin and clutching it there. Roman’s hand trembles. He finds himself absentmindedly running his thumb over the knuckles, the palm, the fingers. He keeps his eyes on Roman’s face.

Roman’s other arm lowers, gingerly resting on Virgil’s legs. Virgil smiles and squeezes his hand.

“I’m sorry, Princey,” he whispers, “I’ve been fucking awful to you.”

Roman’s face twitches. “…so have I.”

“What, been awful to me or awful to you?”

For a moment, he thinks Roman’s just going to say that he’s been awful to Virgil. Which, yes, he was in the past, but not like Virgil’s been. But instead, Roman opens his mouth and shakily whispers: ‘both.’

“I know, Princey.” Virgil squeezes his hand again. “You’re all good with me, and we can…if you want, I can help with the second part too.”

Roman’s eyes widen and godfuckingdamnit that hurts.

“I gotcha, Roman,” he says softly, lacing their fingers together, “and ‘m sorry I haven’t been there for you recently.”

Roman swallows, Virgil’s eyes drawn to the roll of his throat. “You…you want to help me?”

Roman, you’re gonna ruin my reputation of not having a heart by smashing it into fucking pieces.

“Yeah, Roman,” he reassures, “I wanna help you. You’re important.”

“I am?”

“Sure are, Princey.” He lightly knocks his head against Roman’s. “And if it ever feels like I don’t believe that, call me out on my bullshit. ‘Cause that’s bullshit.”

“What are you two muttering about over there?” Patton shakes his head fondly when Virgil decides to just turn his head upside down instead of turning around. “Virgil, that’s not good for your spine.”

“We’re metaphysical, Pop-star, who cares?”

“When you start complaining about neck pain,” Logan says wryly, “me.”

He glances up too and Virgil hides a smirk at how his face softens when he spots Roman’s expression.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes,” Roman says hurriedly, “everything’s fine.”

“It’s Hug Roman time,” Virgil says immediately after, “so I’m hugging Roman.”

“I think that’s less of a hug than you sitting on his lap,” Logan says, standing, “but we’ll never fit all of us on that chair.”

Virgil feels more than hears Roman’s inhale as Logan and Patton start moving the couch cushions to the floor. He sits back upright just in time to see Roman’s hopeful face and butts his head against his again.

“Come on, Princey, let’s go.”

“…are you going to stand up, or…?”

“Or you could carry me.”

“Virgil,” he hears Patton chide.

“No, no,” Roman says, “it’s fine, I can carry him if he wants to be carried. I will need my hand back, though.”

Okay, yes, Virgil does enjoy Roman carrying him a bit too much for altruistic purposes but it’s worth it when Roman goes to gently set him down and the other two pull him down instead.

“There,” Logan says softly as Roman’s head comes to rest against the base of the couch, “much better.”

Roman opens his mouth to say something when Logan’s hand tangles in his hair and it turns into a slightly strangled sound. Patton chuckles, wrapping his arms around Roman and sighing softly.

“Hey, who wants to play a game?”

Remus’s head pops up from behind the couch.

“We’re already playing a game,” Virgil says, “it’s called Cuddle Roman, now get your butt down here.”

Remus gasps. “My favorite!”

“Okay good,” Virgil mutters as he moves out of Roman’s lap to make room for Remus, “I totally thought he was talking about butts.”

“I have a feeling, my dear,” Janus sighs, striding from the shadows and totally not making Virgil jump, “that it’s both.”

Remus just cackles. Janus takes a seat, reaching out to take one of Roman’s hands in his. Roman frowns at him slightly, his head still spinning from the amount of people around him.

“What—is there something wrong?”

Janus shakes his head. “It’s Hug Roman hours. So I’m here.”

Vigil chuckles at the blush on Roman’s face. “So this is becoming a regular thing, right?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Indeed.”

“Yay!”

Remus just holds his brother tighter.

——————————

“…come in.”

“If you’d like to reschedule, Roman, it’s no trouble, I’m happy to…”

Logan trails off as he walks into the room, Roman’s back to him as he hunches over a table near the door to the Imagination. He shuts the door quietly behind him and tucks the notebook under his arm.

“Roman?” He takes a step forward. “Are you alright?”

“Never better, Specs,” Roman says cheerily, too cheerily, “just give me one moment and I’m all yours.”

Logan frowns. “If you’d like to reschedule, Roman,” he repeats, softer this time, “I can assure you, it’s fine.”

“No, no, that’d be rude.” Something crinkles in Roman’s hands. “Just—just one moment.”

There’s a heavy clunk and a barely contained hiss.

“Roman—“ he starts forward— “are you hurt?”

“Not hurt.” Another clunk. “Just…incredibly clumsy, it seems.”

“Can I help?”

If he weren’t paying attention, he would miss the way Roman’s shoulders tense with disbelief.

“N-no, that’s alright,” Roman says, the first time his voice has slipped, “I’m just…no, it’s alright.”

He jerks his head toward the desk, being very careful not to let Logan see his face.

“It’s over there, I’ll be with you in one moment.”

Logan looks, then walks over to the desk and carefully sets down his notebook. He glances up at Roman and can’t stop the soft noise at seeing Roman’s hands shake and fumble with a large bottle.

“Roman,” he calls softly, “Roman, please.”

Roman freezes.

“…please what?”

“Let me help you,” he says, walking over, “let me help you with this.”

Roman shudders and tries to laugh again. “You don’t need to busy yourself with inane and worthless tasks, Logan.”

Oh. Oh, dear.

“You’re not inane or worthless, Roman,” he says firmly, “nor are you a task.”

Roman’s shoulder is cold under his hand. He cups it nonetheless and leans closer, mindful to keep his gaze down and away.

“Please?”

Under his hand, Roman sighs. “…if that’s what you want.”

He’s not prepared for when Roman turns around, a bottle of micellar water in one hand and cotton ovals in the other. His makeup—done so wonderfully this morning—is smeared and wearing away, his nose bright red under the concealer. Logan lets out another soft noise, taking the proffered items and gently pushing Roman to sit on the table.

He takes one of the cotton ovals and gets it damp, cupping Roman’s chin in one hand.

“Let me know if anything starts to sting or hurt,” he instructs softly and starts to clean the smudges from his face. Roman sits perfectly still, his gaze down at Logan’s tie. His hands fold neatly in his lap and he looks every bit the cooperative ideal.

Except for the way he looks terrified every time Logan so much as shifts his hand.

“You are not worthless,” Logan says quietly as he works, swapping out the cotton ovals when needed, “you are not annoying me. You are someone I care about very deeply and someone I enjoy helping.”

Roman’s chin wobbles.

“I am always impressed by the ideas you create,” he continues after quietly bidding Roman to turn slightly, “and you never cease to amaze me with your creativity.”

Roman’s throat works against his hand as he swallows. “Remus—“

“Remus is Remus,” Logan interrupts gently, “turn—yes, there you go—and you are Roman. You are clever, you are kind, and you are wonderful, and I care about you very much.”

He takes a new cotton oval and takes Roman’s chin again, tapping gently until Roman makes eye contact.

“Close your eyes,” he bids, “and let me know if they start to sting at any point.”

Roman closes his eyes and Logan carefully, carefully starts to clean off the eyeshadow. The golden sparkles are stubborn, clinging to the skin, but he works patiently until the last of them come off. He realizes after that the oval is wetter than it was when he began.

“Oh, little star,” he breathes, glancing around and summoning a soft washcloth to clean Roman’s face the rest of the way, “it’s alright, you can cry if you need to. I won’t mind.”

“It’s stupid,” Roman mutters, raising a hand to swipe angrily at the tears, “it’s stupid.”

“If it’s making you upset, it’s not stupid.” Logan gently but firmly places Roman’s hands on his own shoulders and replaces them with the cloth. “Tell me?”

“I—it’s not even a quest.” Roman’s voice cracks horribly on the last word. “It’s just—I was making something and it broke and I—I worked really hard on it and now it’s ruined.”

Logan lets out a soft noise. “I’m sorry.”

His chest aches when the apology makes Roman shake himself. “It’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t want to just dump that on you.”

“I asked you to tell me what was wrong,” Logan chides, patting his cheek dry, “you’re not dumping anything on me.”

He sets the cloth aside and cups Roman’s face with his hands.

“And I am also sorry,” he whispers, “that I have made you believe that I do not worry about you the same way I worry about Thomas.”

Roman’s eyes fly open. “You—you what?”

“I care about you very deeply, Roman,” Logan says, “you’re very important to me. So yes, of course, I worry about you. You’re upset, and I’ve made you feel like you can’t come to me. I…I have not behaved well toward you. And I will remedy that.”

A new wave of tears meets Logan’s thumbs carefully swiping them away.

“Bonk?”

Roman leans forward and lets Logan rest their foreheads together. After a moment, his hands move to give Roman a proper hug, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead.

“What were you making, if I may ask?”

“…just a house.” Roman sniffles. “It got destroyed in the last brainstorm.”

“Would you like help?”

“…don’t we have to work on the ideas?”

Logan smiles, resting their foreheads together once more. “This feels more important, doesn’t it?”

Roman’s small but warm smile is more than worth the extra hours they’ll have to spend working on the videos.

——————————

Somehow they forgot.

Somehow they forgot that Roman was scared of the dark.

It wasn’t common that thunderstorms plagued the Imagination, simply because—well, Thomas didn’t need literal brainstorms when he’s got Logan working with him. Sure, sometimes Remus decides he’s going to make his entrance extra cliché and arrive in a literal flash of lightning. Or Roman will create a field of flowers larger than the eye can see and soft bruised purple clouds will roll across the sky, quiet thunder and light rain that feels like a cushion.

But it’s never enough to cause a blackout.

For a moment, they’re all just confused. Thomas’s apartment is fine, Thomas is fine, so they don’t understand what’s happened. Then Remus points out that they, uh, maybe didn’t close the door to the Imagination as tightly as they should have.

He gets smacked upside the head for that.

So they’re here, in the middle of the dark, trying frantically to figure out how to not run into everything. Well, three of them are fine. Virgil can see in the dark. Janus can see in the dark. Remus can see in the dark.

“Is that because you’re the Dark Sides,” Patton mumbles as he puts his glasses back on for the fifth time in the past minute, “or do you each have some kind of ability?”

Remus smiles, even if Patton can’t see it. “It’s more fun!”

“That doesn’t—“ Logan pinches the bridge of his nose— “that doesn’t even answer the question, Remus.”

“I think you’ll find that’s his justification for most things,” Janus says wryly, taking Patton carefully by the arm and guiding him to sit on the couch, safely out of harm’s way.

Virgil elbows Remus to get him to put down the Morningstar, please, and sits down next to Patton. “How long is this going to take to go away?”

Remus shrugs. “Dunno. Probably won’t be that long. We all just gotta sit tight.”

Janus raises a hand to his mouth—not that Logan can truly appreciate his expression—and mock gasps. “Remus, suggesting that we don’t do anything?”

“Oh, fuck off, Snakey.”

“Language!”

Remus blows a fat raspberry. “Even I know it’s a bad idea to try and do something right now. I mean ask Roman—“

It takes a moment for them to realize that Roman isn’t sitting there.

“We should go get him,” Logan says after a moment, “just to make sure we’re all in the same place.”

And with that, Remus is off, stomping up the stairs and conveniently forgetting that two Sides can’t see past the little pinpricks of light at the bottom of the windows. Virgil rolls his eyes and makes to stand, only to frown.

“Virgil?” Logan touches his elbow when he notices him pause. “Are you alright?”

“Feels like I’m being summoned.” He rubs his chest absentmindedly. “But not really.”

“Well, let’s just keep an eye on—hey!”

Virgil doesn’t even hear the end of Logan’s sentence before he’s yanked into another room.

He blinks, disoriented, shaking his head to figure out where he is. Only when Remus bursts up the stairs and pouts that how dare Virgil sink out to beat him here does he realize why he’s here.

Judging by the way Remus’s face falls a second later, he does too.

Remus knocks lightly on the door. After a moment, he curses and goes to knock louder.

“Don’t,” Virgil mutters, grabbing Remus’s arm, “you’re gonna freak him out more.”

“Well, I can’t just blow the fucking door open,” he growls, shaking him off, “that’s gonna make it worse.”

He opens his mouth but another sharp tug from his chest makes him wince. “Okay, then don’t bust it down. Just—oh, god, we gotta get in there.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”

Remus doesn’t rear back and kick the door open, which says something about how concerned he is. They can’t see much of anything except for—

—oh.

Oh, no.

Roman notices immediately when the blackout happens. How could he not? He’d been in the middle of trying to sort out his journal for the day when suddenly he was drowning.

Oh god.

Oh, god.

Within an instant, his chest seizes. He can’t see. He can’t see. There’s something—

No. No, it’s fine. He’s in his room. Everything is fine. Because he’s safe. He’s in his room, he knows where everything is, he knows what everything is in here, he’s fine.

There’s nothing here to be scared of. There’s nothing here to be scared of.

So why is Roman so scared?

He shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be. He’s a prince, for Disney’s sake, he’s the protector of the Mindscape, he’s—he’s—

He’s Prince Roman. Not some newly minted squire crying because he’s away from home for the first time and it’s all dark and scary and he can’t see anything because he doesn’t know what’s going on and he can’t tell where anything is and he swears he can see things moving in the shadows and—and—and—

Roman shoves his fist in his mouth before he can whimper.

No. No. He’s fine.

He’s fine.

…besides, what would the others say?

He’s a prince. He’s Roman. He’s not some scared weak thing. He’s just—he’s just—it’s—it’s—

They can’t see him like this. He’s supposed to be strong. He’ll never be taken seriously if they don’t see that he can be strong. They don’t take him seriously already, do they? Let alone if they could see him in the dark, alone, hyperventilating, terrified.

But he is.

He’s—he—

Something moves.

Oh, god, something moved.

He freezes, goes absolutely still, tries frantically to still his heaving chest, be small, be unnoticeable, his pride doesn’t matter right now, it doesn’t, he’s not gonna be hurt if he can’t be seen—

“Ro-Bro?”

His next inhale is a whine.

No, no, not Remus—he can’t—not Remus, Remus is strong, Remus will laugh at him, Remus loves the dark, he can’t cry in front of Remus, not for this—

“Oh, Ro-Bro,” he hears through the haze, “Ro-Bro, I’m so fucking sorry, I forgot, hey—hey—“

He won’t cry. He won’t cry. He won’t cry.

“Hey,” Remus calls, tugging carefully at the hand clapped over his mouth, “hey, don’t do that, Roro, you’re gonna hurt yourself, stop it, it’s gonna fucking hurt if you do that, you know that—“

The sob that tears itself out of his throat as Remus pries his hand away hurts his ears.

“Hey, Roro,” Remus soothes, taking his hands and squeezing them firmly, “hey, you gotta just be here for me, you focus on me, okay?”

“Re—“

“Come here, Ro.”

Remus scoops him up into his lap. To hell with whatever is twisting around in the shadows, Remus is holding him in his lap, rocking him back and forth and Remus is of the dark.

A rush of shame through his stomach and the first real sob into Remus’s shoulder hurts.

“Nuh-uh, Ro,” comes the mutter over his head, “don’t hold it in.”

The shame only grows. Then Remus tightens his grip until it’s all he can feel.

“I’m right here, Ro, I’m right here. It’s okay. You can be scared.”

“N-not scared.”

A gentle hiss in his ear as something—someone presses against his back and more arms than he can count wrap around his chest.

“Shh, shh,” Remus murmurs as he starts, “it’s just Janny.”

“Boo,” Janus whispers as he presses a kiss on his shoulder. Why—why is he here—did he—did he lie too much? He’s not scared, he’s not scared—

“Shh, sweetie,” he whispers as Roman starts to flinch, “I’ve got you, you’re okay, sweetie, stop that. We’ve got you.”

“You’re scared, bud.” Is that—is that Virgil? “Hey, hey, buddy, we got you. I’m sorry, Roman, I forgot you were so scared of the dark.”

Can’t be scared, can’t be scared—

“Shh, shh, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “stop that. You’re allowed to be scared, it’s okay. You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

Virgil presses closer, nudging Janus’s head out of the way and replacing it with his own. He leans down to nuzzle into the crook of Roman’s neck, finding the place his collar digs into his neck and loosening it. Curse him. Curse him.

“Hey, bud,” Virgil murmurs, “you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“N-no—“

Janus hisses gently in his ear again.

“No—“ Roman’s breath hitches— “no, no, no—“

“Roman,” comes Logan’s warm voice from somewhere above him, and no—

“Give him to me,” he hears again after a moment, and when he feels Remus’s arms begin to loosen and Janus pulls away he mewls—

“Hush, little one,” Logan says softly, gathering the poor prince into his lap, “you’re safe, you’re right here, it’s just a blackout.”

“You’ll—“ Roman hiccups, his hands still pushing Logan away from him— “you’ll laugh—“

“Never,” comes the chorus, Logan’s arms firmly around his waist. Then another pair of hands covers his and pulls them away.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, gently but firmly placing his arms around Logan’s neck so Logan can cuddle him properly, “sorry it took us a little longer to get here, we had to take it slow up the stairs.”

“Pat—Pat—“

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Patton coos, crouching down to run a hand through his hair as Logan tucks him into the crook of his neck and Virgil rests his head on his shoulder, “we’re all here, it’s okay.”

“Stupid—st—stupid,” Roman mumbles, “I’m stupid—“

Another hiss, followed by a kiss to the nape of his neck. “Stop lying, sweetie,” Janus whispers, “stop it. You’re not stupid.”

“I’m a prince afraid of the dark,” Roman spits out, disgusted, “of course I’m stupid.”

“Falsehood,” Logan murmurs with more tenderness than Roman can remember, “you’re not stupid. You’re not.”

“I’m crying because I’m afraid of the dark,” he spits again, “I’m af-fraid of the dark—I’m afraid of the dark, I’m—I’m afraid—“

He’s afraid of the dark.

Patton presses a kiss to his forehead. “I don’t like the dark either, sweetheart.”

“You’re—you’re not—you’re not crying—“

“No, I’m not.” Another kiss. “But you are, Roman, and that’s okay.”

“Come on, Princey.” Virgil butts his head gently against Roman’s. “You just gotta breathe first, okay? We’re not going anywhere.”

Remus calls from somewhere over his shoulder—what has he been doing? Where’s he been?— “come on, I got all the pillows.”

“Re?”

“Come on, Ro-Bro,” Remus murmurs, appearing at his other shoulder, “close your eyes.”

“It’s already d-dark, Re.”

“I know, but I don’t wanna get the blanket in your eyes.” Suddenly, there’s a swath of fabric hitting him in the face. “It’s just for a moment, Roro.”

“Ready?” Logan scoops him up. “Up we go.”

“H-how can you see?”

“He can’t,” Janus says, suddenly appearing behind him, “but I can. Come now, my prince, we’re just over here, come on…”

Roman lets out a soft noise of surprise when his back hits something soft.

“Snap yourself into something more comfortable, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “we’re all just going to stay here for a while.”

Patton takes his hand and kisses the back of it as Logan helps tug down the t-shirt he’s poofed himself into.

“I’m sorry,” Roman mumbles, “I’m sorry I’m so scared.”

“None of that now, sweetheart,” Patton chides, cuddling into his side—oh, Patton’s in soft things too now— “you’re gonna be taken care of now. We’re right here.”

“I’m right here, Ro-Bro,” Remus says, promptly flopping down over Roman’s legs, “and no one else is going anywhere.”

Virgil huffs, curling around his head and ruffling his hair. “He’s right, Princey. Just relax for a little.”

“H-how long is the blackout going to last?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Janus says, snuggling into his other side, taking his hand between two of his, “but we’ll be here the whole time. Now please, sweetie, breathe.”

He tries. But it’s still dark and even though he knows the others are here, he can still feel the darkness pressing in on top of him. He can still see things moving in the shadows. He can feel it. He can see it. It hurts.

“Roman,” comes Logan’s voice, warm in the dark, “Roman, listen to me.”

“L-Logan?”

“Yes, dear,” he says, “it’s alright. Virgil is by your head, and he can see in the dark.”

Virgil gives his hair a little tug. “Right here, Princey. I’ve got you.”

“Patton is on your left. He won’t let anything hurt you.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Patton kisses his cheek. “I won’t leave you.”

“Janus is on your right. He can also see in the dark, and it’s his job to protect you.”

Janus leans down to kiss his temple and squeezes his hand. “My prince,” he murmurs tenderly, “my sweetie.”

“And Remus…”

“Nothing’s laying a fucking finger on you, Ro-Bro,” Remus growls from down by his feet, “they’re gonna have to get through me first.”

Logan chuckles. “See?”

“L-Logan?”

“I’m right here, little star,” he says softly, “what do you need?”

“W—where are you?” Roman’s hands tense in Patton’s and Janus’s. “Where—I—I can’t—“

“Hush now,” Logan says, so softly, so softly, as a hand cups his cheek to brush away his tears, “I’m right here, I know you can’t see me. I’m sorry. I know it’s dark. I know you’re afraid. It’s okay, my dear, shh.”

Roman tries to reach out for him only to be thwarted by the grip on his hands.

“Hush, Roman, it’s alright, what can I do?”

“S-stay, please, stay—I want you to stay—“

“I’m right here, can I—“

“Please—“

He almost sobs again with relief when Logan lies down, his head tucked over his shoulder, curling his arms about his waist.

“We’re right here, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “we’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Patton kisses the back of his hand.

“It’s okay to be scared, Princey.”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Roro.”

It takes another half an hour for the storm to end and the lights to flicker back on. Roman stays tucked up in their arms, their soft words in his ear, gentle hands wiping away his tears, until he can blink up at all of them and murmur ‘thank you.’

“Of course, sweetie.”

“We’re here for you, Roman.”

“It’s no problem, Princey.”

“We’ve got you, kiddo.”

“All you gotta do is ask, Roro.”

——————————

Remus knocks on the door, the present in his hands. Roman opens the door and tilts his head.

“Re?”

“Can I come in, Ro-Bro?”

“Yeah, yeah, come on.” Roman shuts the door. “What’s up?”

“This is for you,” Remus says, holding out the box.

“Oh—Remus, I didn’t—I’m sorry—“

“You didn’t miss anything, Ro,” Remus says quickly, “and I’m not expecting anything in return. Just wanted to give you something.”

He shuffles.

“And I, uh, I also haven’t really apologized for the shit I’ve done to you, so…it’s that too.”

“O-oh.” Roman clutches the box. “Thank you, Remus. Can I open it now?”

“Sure.” He watches as Roman carefully opens the box and pulls out the stuffed octopus.

“Oh, Re, this is so cute!” He holds it up, looking at the little face. “I love it, thank you.”

He turns it over.

“Wait, what’s…”

“It’s a mood toy,” Remus says quietly, “if you flip it this way, it’s happy.”

The cream side of the octopus has a little smiley face.

“And if you turn it inside out—“ Roman flips the plush so that a red face frowns at him— “it’s sad.”

Roman’s eyes widen and he looks up at Remus.

“I know you find it hard to ask for things,” Remus says, edging a bit closer, “so I thought this could…help.”

“Re…”

“And I—oof!” Remus lets out a grunt as Roman tackles him onto the bed. He chuckles, his arms wrapping tightly around his brother. “I’m glad you like it Roro, just promise me you’ll use it?”

He gets his request a few days later.

It’s been quiet, Thomas is taking a break, and they’re all in various corners of the living room. Janus and Virgil are lazing about in the patch of sun by the window, Patton is in the kitchen, Logan is working on something on his laptop, and Remus is toying with the grip on his Morningstar.

Roman walks down the stairs and he’s clutching a little red octopus.

“Hey, Ro,” Remus says quietly, hopping up and scurrying over to meet him as he comes down the stairs, “you wanna go be alone?”

Roman shakes his head, pushing gingerly into the living room. Remus turns to see everyone paying attention to them, including Janus, who’s sat up fully and is reaching out to Roman.

“Come here, sweetie,” he calls, “is your brain being a bastard?”

Distantly, Remus hears Patton huff at the language but no one says a word as Janus gathers Roman into his chest, bending to murmur softly in his ear. Virgil scoots closer, acting as the guardian, letting Roman relax with the knowledge that nothing will surprise him right now. A gentle tap on Remus’s shoulder and he turns to see Logan, who bends closer.

“What do we do to help?”

“Help me make a mattress big enough for all of us?”

Under Logan’s guidance, Remus manages to make a normal mattress with lots of comfy blankets and pillows. Patton comes from the kitchen with a glass of water set on the table near the three on the floor. He pauses as he turns and quickly sets a cup of tea next to it.

Roman’s grip on the octopus doesn’t lighten up, even after he’s been in Janus’s arms for a while, even after Logan’s gone over and helped Virgil walk him through coming out of the spiral. Janus walks over to Remus and Patton and quietly tells them they should try and get them all to eat something. Nothing too straining for Roman’s system, but something.

Patton brings out a few bowls of snack food and sets them at the foot of the mattress. Then he goes and gently cards his hands through Roman’s hair.

“Come on, kiddos,” he says softly, “let’s move to the mattress.”

Logan scoops Roman into his arms, depositing him safely in the center of the mattress, little red octopus in tow. The rest of them cuddle around him, some Disney movie playing on the TV. Roman eats, then lays his head on Remus’s shoulder. Logan takes Roman’s free hand into his lap and cradles it there, stroking it with his thumb.

About halfway through the movie, Roman turns the octopus so that the cream side smiles at the screen too.

General:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist let me know

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #roman angst #logan sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #patton sanders #virgil sanders

96 notes · View notes

ithehellisbucky · 3 years

Text

For You

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: “I love you isn’t always enough.”

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Angst to end all angst. PTSD, depression, spiraling, fighting, break up, sad shit.

Author’s Note: I meant for this to be out on Sunday because I wrote it last Monday but I forgot. Anyways this is really sad, but I'm proud of myself because I wrote the ~spoiler alert~ "breaking up to protect the reader" but its the reader doing to breaking up.

When it takes a century to find happiness, you thought it would stick.

From the moment that Bucky walked into your life (literally, walked into your bookshop) you knew that you wouldn't leave him behind any time soon.

There was something about him that would float around in your heart forever until you saw him again, and then the process would repeat.

The first 6 months of your relationship was a honeymoon phase. Waking up to him staring at you in adoration every morning. He stayed at your apartment every day. Cuddling in the middle of the night when he had nightmares, holding him when he was scared to touch anything.

Showing him your love in any and every way you could. Making misshapen pancakes together, and him showing you his favorite movies and books from the 30s and 40s. Pure happiness.

But there was something about Bucky that couldn't sit still. He can't live your little happy life knowing that there is someone out there.

It had caused many fights, you never wanted him to go back to crime-fighting, and he wanted to prove himself. And as much as you tried to tell him that he was already a hero, he was persistent that he had to make up for things that the man that used to live in his brain did.

It drove you crazy.

You were laying on the couch reading a book and absent-mindedly watching a mediocre television show you've seen twice before. You hear each of your locks click twice and from the weight of his footsteps and settle back down into comfort.

"Hi, baby." Bucky walks over to you and presses a kiss onto your forehead.

"Hi honey, how was therapy." You ask as he snuggles into your embrace and you put your book down.

"Boring," he exclaims as you stroke his hair.

"Boring is better than bad, I'm proud of you," He smiled at you and pressed a kiss to your collarbone.

Instead of saying the 'I love you' that you wanted to say, you replaced it with: 'I'm proud of you', 'Stay safe', and 'honey' 'baby' 'sweetheart'.

It wasn't what you wanted, but it'd have to do until your love was ready to hear it.

"I'm making pasta, when do you wanna eat?" You exclaim, wrapping your legs around his torso, and realizing that you are fully entangled in a cuddlefest.

"Maybe an hour, I'm never hungry after Dr. Raynor."

You nod and can tell he understood your response.

You hold each other in blissful peace, eat your food, and go to bed. Bucky does things a certain way to sleep. He wraps his body around yours and sleeps closer to the door, so if someone tried to attack he could protect you in an instant. When he can't sleep he goes into the living room and lays down on the floor to watch tv. He's never slept comfortably before, so it's hard to sleep in safety.

Apparently, tonight was one of those nights. You woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

You reach over and notice that the bedsheets are sweaty and his shirt is on the ground near the door. Bucky was fine with his arm around you, it took some time to show him that he's worthy of love- prosthetic included.

You walk towards the door wearing only one of Bucky's shirts and underwear with little flowers all over it.

"Hey Bucky, are you okay..." Your voice trails off when you notice Bucky staring at the tv with hollow eyes and an unrelenting gaze. "Baby what's wrong?" You slowly walk closer to him and place your hand on his shoulder, even though all you want to do is run to him and hold him.

At first, you think that he doesn't notice until he turns around and shows tear-brimmed eyes. "He gave away the shield."

He can't seem to say anything other than that, so you reach over and hold his face to your neck. You help him get up and walk over to your room and your bed, not bother to pick up his bedding or turn off the tv. You lay gently down in bed, and hold him close to you and let him sob into your chest.

The next day Bucky's acting odd, to say the least. But you don't push it, he's been through enough in the past 24 hours. Finding out that the pretty much only constant in your life was in the hands of a stranger isn't something you can take lightly.

He left in the morning and he didn't come back until late at night. When you ask him where he was he shrugged and ate a single-serving pizza in a record three minutes then went straight to bed, leaving you eating leftovers by yourself in the dark. Not exactly the perfect day.

The same happens for the next 2 days, and then the next day he doesn't come home, and all you get is a text that he'll be home back Sunday. That leaves you with paralyzing fear for the days he's gone, and when he comes back to you at 3:30 in the morning he has a black eye and knuckle-shaped bruises all over the parts of his body you can see, which is no small feat considering the super-soldier serum pumping through his veins.

"Where the hell have you been Bucky?" You yell once he's sat down on the couch like nothing ever happened.

"I was doing stuff." He shrugs and clicks on the tv.

You snatch the remote off the table and turn it off. "You can't just disappear for days and act like nothing ever happened!"

He rolls his eyes and gets up, beginning to walk towards the bathroom "Don't walk away from me! You don't get to walk away from this!"

He turns around and glares at you with the gaze that you've seen him use plenty of time at guys who were checking out your ass at bars.

"Why the hell can't I?" He spits out and towers over you.

"Because this is a relationship and you can't walk away whenever you want to and expect everything to be fine!" His anger doesn't intimidate you. "What the fuck did you expect me to do? Bake you cookies and shampoo your hair when you got home?

I'm not your bitch and you're not a liar, so tell me what's going on." You exclaim, hoping that he'll tell you something other than what you know is really going on.

"I was out with Sam."

"Oh my god," you sigh, turning away from him.

"There's this group called the flag smashers, and they're trying to cause a revolution or something," you run your hand through your hair, "and the new Captain America was there, and he's not a good guy, so me and Sam were-"

"No. No Bucky no." He seems slightly taken aback, but what honestly was he thought was going to happen.

"I don't care if you run around beating up bank robbers or making amends for things you didn't do, I do care that you lied to me about something that could've killed you."

"I know it's just-" He says, scratching his head with his metal arm.

"It's just what? That you want to help people? There are plenty of things you can do to help people other than getting beaten up Bucky!"

You take a deep breath and think it through more, "you know what, I'm blowing it out of proportion, you were just trying to help Sam and you were scared, let's just talk to Dr. Raynor and figure something out tomorrow."

You turn to go to bed and notice that Bucky isn't following "what's wrong?"

Bucky takes a deep breath "I'm not seeing Dr. Raynor anymore."

You turn around, angrier at him than you've ever been, "what?"

"John, the new Captain America, wants me to be focused on the mission, and therapy is just a distraction."

You can practically feel anger boiling through your veins. "Do you even hear yourself? You sound crazy. I would be fine if you went on missions or teamed up with Sam, but you can't stop going to therapy Bucky."

"Yes I can; the whole point is that I can make my own decisions. It's my choice." Bucky exclaims, yelling at you louder than you thought he ever would.

"Okay. If you think that making decisions is about ruining your life because you can, go ahead." You look him straight in the eyes, all fear gone. "you can quit therapy and implode all the progress you've made" you take a deep breath "and get out of my house."

Bucky drops all of his anger and steps back in shock and fear. "What?"

"I'm not going to let you ruin your life Bucky. When I met you, you wouldn't even let me see your arm. I've realized, that you are dependent on me, and that's not okay Bucky, because you deserve better than only having one good thing."

You were holding back tears, but in this moment you needed to help Bucky, and the only way to do that was to make sure he would be okay. And he can't do that if you are the only thing in his life. "You had nothing for 70 years Bucky, and now that you have the whole world you can't keep holding on to one person. You lost Steve, and then you were desperate to find something else to hold onto. You need to find yourself Bucky."

"No, no please don't do this. I- I love you." He starts crying and it takes everything in you not to run to him and hold him.

"Love isn't always enough Bucky." You turn around to leave your apartment in the middle of the night, "I love you more than anything, but I can't let you ruin your life. Go back to therapy, Buck, I'll be here. I'll wait. Go live the life you finally have Bucky. I love you."

You walk out your door and the second you close it you start sobbing. You wander out into the street and wonder if you did the right thing.

You hoped and you begged and you pleaded that Bucky would discover the world that he deserved. You wouldn't abandon him, you would make sure he stayed alive, he just needed time to be free. This wasn't for you, you reminded yourself, it's for Bucky.

Always for Bucky.

Requests are open!

Prompt List

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers

Marvel:

92 notes · View notes

love4buckybarnes · 3 years

Text

BEST SLEEP

Summary: You have a not so great past. Being tortured and injected with a special serum created by a mad Scientist, you gained powers. You help Sam and Bucky one day, in return Bucky lets you stay with him. You and Bucky start developing feelings for each other. One night you have a nightmare and Bucky is there to help you.

Bucky Barnes x Ready. No warnings, some fluff. at the end. Told in 2nd POV.

A/N: This is my first story on here so hope you all enjoy. All my stories will be Bucky Barnes only, featuring some other characters. You can request stuff. I write smuts, imagines, etc. Most of my stories will take place after Endgame and TFAWS, but you may request at any point in time after Bucky is introduced.

She jolted awake in a cold sweat, gasping for air. Y/N’s eyelids peeled open to darkness. A faint blue hue gleamed from the window, illuminating the room. She shut her eyes for a second, only to have the nightmare that woke her from her slumber to flash back. Sighing, she tore the sheets from her sticky body. She tried swallowing, to dampen her parched throat only to feel a lump.

The cool water from the bathroom faucet soothed her throat. Y/N’s heart was still racing and she struggled to control her breathing. She gripped the porcelain sink in her hands tightly, her knuckles turning white. An anxious feeling boiled in her stomach. Forgetting her own strength, the sink crumbled into pieces. She cursed in frustration as she punched the wall, leaving a significant dent.

Y/N stood up and let out a surprised loud shriek, whirling around. She had not noticed the dark silhouette she knew as the Winter Soldier was standing behind her.

🔹🔹🔹🔹 backstory blurb 🔹🔹🔹🔹

Y/N has been living with Bucky Barnes for a couple of months. Before she met him, she was sold by her family for money to a scientist who performed experiments on her. He created his own serum to try to create new superheroes. She was one of many of his test subjects. Eventually, she had escaped thanks to her newfound powers. Because she had no one to go to, she was on her own.

One day, she happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson were fighting a group of bad guys. One of the evil men shoved an SUV off the bridge. The poor civilian tried to jump out to avoid from drowning. He held on for dear life to the car. Not being able to stand there watching this man die and do nothing, Y/N jumped into action. Using her super strength, she pulled the automobile from falling along with the man.

It impressed Bucky and Sam. They heard Y/N’s story. In return for her help, Bucky offered her a place to stay in his spare room at his apartment here in Brooklyn, until she could get back on her feet.

Since living together, they grew close and formed a bond, hanging out and talking. They shared similar past. They both secretly had crushes on each other. Y/N couldn’t lie, she found Bucky to be attractive. And he found her attractive as well.

🔹🔹🔹🔹back to present🔹🔹🔹🔹

Concern etched on Bucky’s face as he took in the scene in front of him. “Still having a hard time, huh?” His tone is soft and velvety.

“Yeah,” she replied, not meeting his eyes. She struggled with dealing with her emotions sometimes. They would bottle up inside her and explode. Her nightmares weren’t often. When she had them, she would wake up gasping for air as if she was being choked in her sleep. Him on the other hand, she would hear his blood-curdling screams echo through the apartment. Most nights instead of sleeping, she would find him on the couch watching TV to keep himself awake.

His eyes traveled down to her legs. “You’re bleeding,” he said, a hint of worry lacing his voice. Bucky walked over to her, standing close. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, and she could smell the faint scent of the body wash he uses. His human hand took her wrist and tugged gently to signal to follow.

Bucky hoisted her on to his bathroom counter with ease. He pulled out what he needed from the cabinet. “This is gonna sting. Hold on to me. I really don’t want a broken sink too,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. Without warning, he pressed a cotton pad soaked with rubbing alcohol on her wounds.

Y/N gritted her teeth, letting out hisses and profanities. She dug her nails into his metal arm. He mumbled apologizes. After he was done, he took a further look at the cuts, making sure she didn’t need stitches and patched them up with bandages.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked. His amazing blue eyes that held reassurance met hers.

“I just had a nightmare,” she admitted. “Couldn’t contain my emotions like always.”

If at all possible, his eyes softened even more. Bucky understood. He also had nightmares. He’s pretty sure she had heard him some nights.

Ever since that day they met, he felt drawn to her. A bit cliché, but it was true. He admired how courageous she was, how she’s been through a lot, but still saved the civilian from dying. She showed the world that she was brave and a hero, despite what she had endured.

Truth to be told, he also had a major crush on Y/N. He was completely smitten. Anytime she was around him, he couldn’t stop the giddy feeling. He wanted so badly to do something about it. Even though Bucky had strong feelings for her, he doubted she felt the same way.

“I know how that is. I’m right down the hall, or you can find me in the living room.” He hinted she could come to him whenever.

Y/N nodded and hopped off the counter. “Well, thanks for patching me up. I should try to sleep.” She made it to her room.

Bucky mustered up some courage. Before she could step any further, she felt a cold sensation on her shoulder.

He turned her around with his metal arm. “You can sleep on my bed. Besides, we’ll have to share a bathroom until yours gets fixed.” He guided her back to his room and grabbed a pillow.

“It’s your bed, I’ll take the floor,” she insisted.

Bucky shook his head. “Nope. You’re not sleeping on the floor, love.” The nickname of many, he called her always sends a warm feeling through her.

Y/N decided to be brave, not wanting to miss this opportunity. “Or we could share the bed.” She slides in and beckons him to join her.

He didn’t need to be told twice and followed her. Being the gentleman and didn’t want to intrude, he stayed on his side. “Sleep, doll. I’ll be right here.”

Y/N eventually fell asleep laying on her back, while Bucky laid there awake. Light snores left her mouth. Those lips that Bucky wanted to feel so badly on his own. He turned his head to watch her. Her eyes fluttered in her sleep. She then rolled over to her side suddenly and without realizing it, wrapped her arm around his waist, snuggling in close.

Bucky’s breath hitched and froze in surprise. At first he tensed up. He then relaxed under her touch, wrapping his own around her, bringing her further towards him. Without knowing it, he too was pulled into a deep slumber.

The sun blared through the window. Y/N groaned, covering her eyes. She slowly blinked them open. At first, she was confused about where she was, but heard soft snoring next to her and remembered. She realized that at some point in her sleep, she cuddled up to him. Embarrassed, she tried to sit up only for the surrounding arm to tighten, pulling her back.

She looked up at his face. He stirred in his sleep, blinking his eyes opened. “Mornin’ darling.” His voice was raspy from just waking up. “Any dreams?” He didn’t want to let go, not yet.

“No, not all. How about you?” she asked.

“I didn’t have any either. That was the best sleep I’ve ever had in a long time.” Bucky turned over to look at her. “Maybe this is the cure.” He was enjoying this, being so close to Y/N. He could get used to it. Not only that, but he wanted it to last forever.

Y/N shifted her head to peak at the clock on the nightstand. She jerked straight up, causing Bucky to jump up too. “Jeez Bucky. It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Well, it seems like we both needed the sleep,” he shrugged. “Should have sleep-overs more often.” She hummed in agreement.

“Thanks by the way.” He cocked his head to the side, silently asking why she’s thanking him. “For, you know, helping me last night.”

“No need to thank me, doll. I’m here for you anytime.” Here goes nothing, Bucky thought. “Truth is, I care a lot about you and I like you, like a lot.”

Y/N couldn’t believe her ears as she looked at him in those blue eyes. “I feel the same way, Bucky,” she confessed.

Bucky’s mouth was on hers when the words left her mouth. His lips were just like how she has imagined. Smooth with a bit of roughness. They molded against hers perfectly as she moved hers in sync. He placed his hand on both sides of her face, caressing her skin with the most gentle touch.

He can’t believe it either. Her lips are like pillows, soft and silky. He pulled away, making her whine, resting his forehead against hers. “We should get up. Don’t worry, we can do more of that later.” He looked at her, giving her a wink.

Y/N grinned like a ray of sunshine. “I’d like that.” His own grin matched hers at her words.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes imagines #Bucky Barnes x reader #imagines #avengers #marvel #reader insert #winter soldier #winter solider imagine #winter soldier x reader #Sebastian Stan

62 notes · View notes

ohplagg · 3 years

Text

Normal Girl

Also read at AO3

Summary: Nora is living her best life by being the normal middle school student that she always longed to be with her new friends and her two parents that love her so much.

WARNING: This story makes mention of abuse, suicide and suicidal thoughts. Individuals suffering from anxiety, depression and/or suicidal thoughts may not have a safe experience reading this. Viewer discretion is advised.

Thank you @noragamibigbang for organizing this.

See my partner’s ( @maybemacdc ) wonderful artwork that goes along with this!

Get up.

I hear the faint sound of an alarm clock, its signals the start of my day. I know I need to get up but the warmth of my bed and the peace in my bedroom cuddles me in a soundless lullaby.

Get up now.

The cold morning air hits my skin as I reach my arm out of my covers to turn off the alarm making me a bit more aware of myself than before but not enough. I decide to curl up in my bed once more, savoring the cozy air that my blankets trapped during the night.

You’re going to be late.

As I finish rubbing off the sleep from my eyes and brushing off the black hair strand stuck in my mouth I peak my head out of the covers. While staring into the celling, waiting for the moment I have enough courage to leave my warm bed, I hear two calm knocks on my doorframe like there were right on cue.

“Good morning love, come help me with breakfast when you’re ready~” I hear my mom call out as she walks away from the doorframe.

I sit up on my bed and I admire the sunrays peak through my window. Little particles of dust dancing in the stationary air as they bathe in the sunlight.

I walk over to my closet and change into my freshly clean school uniform. It’s your typical sailor middle school uniform with the red bow tie, white shirt with a blue collar and a matching blue skit to go with it. I make sure I wash it every night so it dries overnight. I briefly enjoy the softness of the fabric as I straighten the skirt with my hands, getting rid of any wrinkles that were created when I put it on.

Now that I’m dressed, I head over to the mirror. I stare back at my reflection, my messy from sleep black hair begging to be brushed.

My hair has always been pretty boring. It has no color and no texture, not to mention that its so short that I can’t do any fun hair styles with it. Not that I have tried any. Maybe I can try something today?

As I think that, I open a box of ribbons I’ve been collecting for years but never worn. I first try on a big red bow, I then try a blue one, and then a bright pink ribbon but they all make me look stupid. This is stupid.

You’re stupid.

I finish trying on my last ribbon which is a white thin ribbon. This one I put it across my head like a hair band. It looks okay I guess but what would people say? I bet they wouldn’t stop pointing it out and making fun of me.

“That looks cute! Are you wearing that?” I get startled by my dad’s voice. I turn around to see him frozen in his tracks as he was walking pass my bedroom door.

“I’m not sure…?” I tried to say no but something about his loving and warming smile told me that I wanted to hear his reply to my hesitation.

“You should” he simply said and then left.

Dad would never lie to me and if he thinks that I look cute with it then I guess the ribbon isn’t that stupid.

Maybe I should wear it.

I think I will.

After deciding to leave the ribbon on and finish getting reading for school, I head downstairs and help my mom by setting the table while she prepares breakfast. I see my dad sitting on the TV-couch with his laptop and a bunch of work documents scattered all over the coffee table. We all are busy with our morning tasks while the morning local news is playing on the background.

First it was politics news but I’m too young to care and stress about that yet so I don’t really pay attention to it. Then it’s the bad story news which this time was something about how the police just arrested an abusive father who hurt his kids physically and mentally.

What a way to start the morning. Did the news anchors really need to say such graphic and gruesome details?

As always a feel-good story gets told right after, this time is about some rescued stray-kitty-siblings that were adopted by this high school girl or something, I honestly didn’t pay enough attention to it, I couldn’t stop thinking about the prior story.

I try to picture it but I can’t imagine my dad turning violent on me and doing me harm, how could any dad do that to his kids? The idea of not only not having my mom but also getting physically harmed by my dad made me feel nauseous.

“Darling. Stop playing with your food, you’re going to be late.” My mom snaps me out of my dark train of thought.

That’s right, my parents are both here and they will never hurt me no matter what. They love me and will protect me. I don’t have to worry about any of that. But I actually do worry because I’m about to be late if I don’t hurry up and eat. And with that I devour my food as fast as I can without getting a stomach ache.

“Ittekimasu!” I yell at my mom as I close the front door feeling the cool but not cold spring air hit my skin.

“Itterasshai!” I hear my mom faintly yell back to me.

I head down the streets on my way to school. As I walk I take in my surroundings; I hear some birds singing, some cars driving by, some other kids heading to school and some old lady gossip. I pay extra close attention to the gossip. Ever since I started walking to school on my own I realized that I didn’t know much about the world outside of my notebooks so this is the only way I keep up with the world beside the morning news my dad puts every other day.

Today’s gossip isn’t the usual though. The ladies are also talking about that horrible gruesome story the local morning news covered, I hear them talk among themselves how they actually knew the wife before she committed suicide.

“I don’t think she did” one of them comments while looking over her shoulder as if she was about to say her most guarded secret, “and with the most recent news I’m pretty sure he killed her.” She finishes while nodding her head as a matter of fact.

Gasps roar among the ladies and I find myself gawking at the possibility as well.

“He wouldn’t do that” one interrupts the buzzing gossiping that had been unleashed. “The husband was really in love. She was his whole world. I wouldn’t be surprise if he went crazy with grief because of her death.” She tries to defend the man from the accusation of killing his own wife.

The ladies continue their gossiping but by now I’m too far to hear it anymore. My thoughts remain stuck in that conversation while I make my way to school. A husband so overwhelmed with grief that he took it out on his own flesh and blood that he raised since they were babies.

Imagine being the kids, they were around my age if I recall correctly. Just thinking about how I could be living that nightmare makes me feel sick to my stomach. Not only were they dealing with the loss of their mother, but also the loss of their father. The pain and the fear they must have felt while seeing their dad turn into that monster as the days went by. The uncertainty of being chosen as the punching bag that day. The hopelessness and loneliness they must have felt.

Thinking about it almost feels too real. I feel my palms become sweaty and my heartbeat drowning any noise from the outside world. I urge myself to take in deep breaths and to remember that that is not my life. That my dad is not like that.

Thank the gods that my dad is not like that.

I arrive to school and I see Nana and her group waving at me, waiting for me at the front gate. They tell me to call them my friends but I’m not used to having those yet. You see, I’ve always focused on school and academics first and I never gave the idea of having friends even a consideration so this is all really new to me.

Nana is my favorite of the 3, she’s the one I can easily talk to. Turns out she and I are pretty similar in the sense that we both like to be right and get in fights because of it. Of course, she gets into physical ones while I only do intellectual ones…. for the most part. Look, it wasn’t my fault that one time with Yukine.

Sure, I did throw in the first punch but he started it when he said I copied from him. Well, he really didn’t said it, but he insinuated it and if you ask me that’s more than enough reason to get punched. Besides I would never copy him. I don’t need his second-best-in-school answers because I have my own first-best-in-school answers, so ha!

According to him he caught me “starring” at him “several” times which is not true. Why would I stare? Maybe he was in my field of vision but that doesn’t even make sense because just the sight of him is annoying, it always has been. Ever since we were 6 with his “I’m going to one-up you” attitude he always had with me. Ugh, so annoying!

And there’s nothing about him worth looking at either. There’s nothing eye-catching about physique like his unusual golden locks. And why on earth would I stare at someone who is so focused in whatever test question he’s answering that you can’t help but admire his soft expression as he solves the math problem? It doesn’t make sense.

It kind of does.

Whatever.

But all that is in the past now and if I’m being honest I’m really happy I fought with Yukine. Because of that fight I met Nana and her fraternal twin brother Shiigun and I’m also closer to Yukine now than before. My life has definitely become a lot more fun than before.

Thanks to Yukine’s better social skills I get better along with everyone in school including teachers and staff. I really like that about him. I think that’s the main reason why he is so nice to me too. I really admire him for it.

Yukine and I are still rivals though, don’t get me wrong. We are still argue and fight but now we know each other a little bit better so we know that we don’t have to be better than the other at everything. Even though I will always better than him in academics even he says otherwise. I’ll let him have his spotlight with social stuff.

The lunch bell rings and I immediately take out my study notebook and start studying for history, the exams are next week and I need to be the best. I would prefer to do homework right now but there isn’t enough time to properly do it so a quick overview of history will do for now. I can always do homework in the comfort of my home where no one can bother or distract me.

“-chan you need to give it a rest. It’s not good for you.” Nana interrupts my study time as she rests her hand over my notes to take my attention.

“Both you and Yukine are overkills, I swear you guys are the biggest nerds in the whole school- no, the whole world!” Shiihgun has a talent to sting me where it hurts. I know he doesn’t mean it in a mean way but I’ve always been insecure about how I’m perceived by others and he doesn’t help one bit.

I try to laugh it off as I’ve seen Yukine do it before since I’m guessing that’s what I’m supposed to do. I hope my laugh seems genuine and not painful or forced. Please, don’t let my discomfort show.

Yukine turns my way as we’re laughing off Shiigun’s mean joke. I guess acting isn’t my thing because as soon as our eye meet he casually makes his way to my desk, leans in (invading my personal space if you ask me) and in a whispers tells me that he thinks it’s pretty cool of us to be the biggest nerds of the whole world. If the coolest kid in school says so then I guess we are pretty cool.

I realize that I’m too distracted to focus back on studying and Nana has a point I need the break, so I guess I’ll take her advice and rest during lunch time. As I start putting my notebooks away I realize that I forgot to pack my bento box. I guess I was too distracted when I left home this morning.

“Eeh?! You forgot your bento?” I wanted to pretend that I didn’t forget my bento, that I wasn’t looking for it and that I wasn’t hungry but apparently once again my acting skills failed me because now Nana saw right through me.

“I didn’t forget it. I’m trying to eat less.” I poorly try to act casually. Maybe I should stop acting.

“Here. Have one.” Yukine offers me one of his onigiri. “I always bring enough to share.” He reassures me as he notice my hesitation.

I reach my hand out to take the onigiri, as I do I start smelling a scent. A scent with the smell of… toothpaste? That’s weird.

I take a bite of the onigiri and I’m reminded of that winter afternoon where Yukine sneaked freshly made onigiri from his home to share with me. I remember how we ate them under a bridge while I did paper boats out of leaves and trash that I found under the bridge. I remember that I was feeling upset for some reason, what was the reason? Something to do with my dad? But…. I wasn’t even friends with Yukine in winter.

This doesn’t make sense.

I shake off the confusion and decide to focus on the argument Nana is having with Yukine about who would win in a physical fight. I would bet this onigiri that Nana would beat Yukine.

After a long day in school where I couldn’t study as much as I would have wanted I thought I would have gone straight home to study everything that I couldn’t during the day but instead I’m walking in the direction of the river bank on my way to play badminton with Nana, her brother and Yukine. As I was getting ready to head home Nana stopped me and asked me to come with them.

I wasn’t sure at first if I should go but Yukine told me that if second best in school was taking some time to have fun then the best could also do the same.

On our way to the river bank I try to make some casual conversation with Yukine so I ask him what made them invite me to come along with them.

“We always wanted to invite you- well, I always insisted on inviting you. But you always seems busy.” Yukine explains.

“I was also busy today.” I challenged his logic.

“But not busy enough to say no.” he retorted with a cheeky attitude. After I gave him a look with an eyebrow raised he continued “But also last week this homeless creepy dude approached us asking if he could be our fourth player so we want to avoid him getting any ideas.”

“Was the dude in his twenties, had black hair, bright blue eyes, and wore a smelly sweaty dark track suit?” the image of the dude suddenly popped in my head with such a clarity that I had to ask.

Yukine looked at me with an extremely puzzled look. “No… Where did you get that from? Is there someone like that where you live?”

Now that I think about it, the man I just describe isn’t anyone that I know or seen. I wonder where did I get that mental image in my head. I must have seen him on TV.

“I don’t know..”

As we’re approaching the river bank we make a quick stop for snacks. The store where we stopped by is owned by a very lovely and young married couple. Yukine tells us that he sometimes works here on weekends helping move the heavy stuff and because of that he gets free snacks whenever he comes by.

“Yuki! You came!” A young lady with bright pink hair yells out in excitement as she rushes to bear-hug Yukine. I’m guessing that’s one of the owners.

“Yuki! Great timing! Can you help out this Saturday? The roof needs to be repaired.” A scary looking man asks while he gets the young lady off Yukine.

It seems that Nana and Shiigun also know this odd couple because it takes them no time to start chatting amongst themselves. Because of that I start doing what I usually do and entertain myself with whatever catches my eye.

I first focus on the discount signs they have scattered in different parts of the background, I then notice how they have some fresh fruit as well but what really catches my eye is the magazine and newspaper shelf they have, one usually doesn’t see those anymore and even less in a small store such as this one.

I start reading the magazine covers and I eventually drift to the headlines. As soon as I do I feel my heart drop.

It’s that news again.

To be fair, it’s to be expected. It was in the morning news after all. But that doesn’t make it any better. While I read that particular newspaper I notice that there’s more details about that story than what I had already heard in the street gossip and in the morning news. Now I’m learning that the man actually killed the daughter who was my age and the older brother manage to run away and he was the one that call the authorities.

Props to the journalist that wrote this thought because it feels so real that it feels like I’m actually that girl that got killed. Good thing that my father is a sane person, that my mother is alive and well and that I don’t actually have a brother.

“-chan, they are talking to you.” For the third time today I get startle back into reality. I turn around to see Nana who grabbed my shoulder to get my attention.

“What?” I asked confused turning to look at the pink hair lady who I guess was the one that talked to me.

“Say hi to Yato-chan for me!” She excitedly and with confidence said as she waved us goodbye.

Yato-chan?

“Bye Kofuku! Bye Daikoku! Thanks for the football!” Yukine yells back as we leave the store owners flirting to each other.

I try to question Kofuku’s comment but between everyone else already walking away, the already said goodbyes and my confusion I couldn’t say anything. Why did she talk to me like she knew me? Why did no one else think that was weird? And who is Yato-chan?

We arrive at the river bank and Shiigun and Yukine start playing with the football apparently Daikoku gave Yukine while Nana and I set up the badminton net. Nana instructs me where to stand with the other side of the net and then teaches me how to anchor the net on the grass.

“Come on, guys. We’re ready.” Nana calls out as she goes to the bags she and Shiigun carried out here to take out the rackets and the bird so we could start playing a match. As she calls out I finish anchoring the net to the grass. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t having fun being out here with my friends, just hanging out. I might even say that this is more fun that history homework.

Might.

I approach Nana and Yukine who were already tossing a coin to choose who got what side of the net. Shiigun had gone to retrieve the ball that had been accidentally kicked far.

“Look out!” I hear Shiigun panic at the top of his lungs followed by a hit to my head that knocked me down so hard and fast that I didn’t get a chance to do anything other than fall like a wood plank. My vision went black, my consciousness faded as I heard Nana and Yukine faintly scream my name.

Get up.

I hear a high pitched ring in my ear, the throbbing headache bringing me back to my senses. I know I need to get up but a piercing pain in my back freezes all my movements. The hard cold floor isn’t doing any favors either.

Get up now.

The cold wind hits my skin as I reach my arm up to feel my head. I feel a warm liquid gushing through somewhere in my skull but I can’t really feel exactly where. I wish I could become more aware of myself than before but between the sharp pain in my back and the dizziness this headache is giving me I decide that I should probably go back to sleep and not think about the pain.

You’re going to die.

A jolt of electricity rushes through my spine. My eyes shoot open as if I were to die if I kept them close for a second longer. My body is screaming in pain as I try to sit upright.

Between the grunts and cries of pain that scape my mouth my eyes start noticing things that… I’m pretty sure they weren’t there before.

There’s a man standing over me. He looks like he’s in his late teens even though he feels older. As he’s wiping his sweat and what it looks like blood from his jaw with the back of his left hand I notice that his hair resembles a lot to an almond.

He doesn’t look injured where he’s wiping the blood so… whose blood is it?

I glance at his right hand and I see him holding a long black staff-looking thing. The staff is thin and black with a spiral form on one of its ends. It looks very rigid even though it feels like it can be bend and molded if it so desired. I notice that the same end that looks alive was dripping with blood.

My blood?

I turn back to this man’s face and I realize that he’s been looking directly at me this all time. His eyes move to focus on the different parts where I feel the most pain as if he were looking at something worth admiring. He then turns his eyes and looks directly at mine. His expression turns into what an angry but disappointed father would look like. As he did that I felt disgusted at myself. Is he upset that I got injured? But he did this to me!

That’s right. Father did this. I started recalling everything that happened before I lost conciseness. Memories come flooding back increasing the pain that I feel from the headache. After I had arrived with Hiyori to where Father and Yato were fighting- Father was so angry. He was so… ready to kill Yato. It felt terrifying but also familiar. It felt like those times where Father punished me for Yato’s behavior but somehow this time it was worse.

I don’t know what came over me when I rushed in and pushed Yato out of the way. Maybe I just wanted to return the favor of all those times he took the bullet for me or maybe I didn’t want to see him get hurt again at the hands of Father. Maybe I just didn’t want to deal with Hiyori after the fight, maybe I just wanted someone to get the life that they wish to have.

But now look at me. I don’t even know if Yato is even alive, I left Hiyori’s side and now I’m even wishing the end of this endless torture. Everything I do, everything I am is a waste.

Pathetic.

Hiyori said I’m allowed to make mistakes, that I’m human. I’m not and I never was. The bare thought of making a mistake and being looked down upon eats me up inside until my outer shell breaks leaving me no other place else to hide.

I wish I could let myself believe that excuse, I wish I could believe in myself, believe that it’s okay to not be perfect, that its okay to fail, that its okay to not be okay. But the fact that I fail at even accepting the reality that I can’t be perfect goes to show how big of a failure I truly am.

I wish I could blame him for making me think this way but this is all on me and that would have never changed.

I did try to change, that’s why I’m here right now dying at the hands of the one I once called father. I did try to be the person Hiyori wanted me to be. Be myself. I really liked her because of that. That’s why I here instead of her.

Ironic isn’t it? The person I hate the most, the person I fear the most, is the very person I never want to let down. Maybe that’s why I’m always so scared whenever he's near. Scared to be asked, scared of a conversation, scared of not doing what’s expected of me, scared of not being enough, scared of my own shadow, scared of myself.

Maybe I don’t hate him, maybe I just hate me.

I feel whatever this life I’ve had vanishing from existence, not even leaving a dead corpse behind. It’s pretty unfair right? I got two shots at life. Two opportunities. Most don’t even get one. But not me, I got two chances at live and in both I was unwanted, despised and casted aside. Maybe third time’s the charm? If there’s even a third time.

If.

“If only” right? Those are the famous words. If only there was a third chance at life. If only I needed just the first one. If only I didn’t die so young. If only Sakura didn’t showed up. If only she didn’t succumb to god’s greatest secret. If only I had instead.

If only the gods treated me better, if only I didn’t become a nora. If only someone wanted me. If only Yato didn’t rebel. If only I was a better sister to Yato. If only Yato didn’t replace me with Yukine. If only I was less judgmental of Yukine. If only Yukine and I had met while we were both still alive. If only I had friends. If only I went to school. If only I had met my parents. If only father didn’t take me in. If only father accomplished his revenge sooner.

If only I was allowed to live like a normal girl. If only I was born.

But I wasn’t.

#noragami #noragami fanfiction #nora noragami #noragamireversebang2021 #I didnt mean to make nora suffer more #it just happened

41 notes · View notes

soda-pop-kandy-krush · 3 years

Text

so this is a tiiiny bit longer than the drabble i set out for it to be... clearly i have no chill and get carried away far too easily. also, i wrote most of this whilst incredibly hormonal/sleep-deprived, so please excuse any mistakes. i will probably go through and proof-read it at a later date. maybe. in the meantime, enjoy! <33

(Prompt Post)

12: Come cuddle!

17: I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life...

Knock, knock.

“Vee? Are you in there?”

Virgil’s brow furrowed a little, but he didn’t look up from his switch screen as he fiddled with the buttons to reorganise his inventory. “Who is it?”

“Your favourite dad!”

A tiny smirk pinched at the corners of his mouth. He wriggled into a more comfortable position on his beanbag, lifting the console closer to his face. “You can come in, Pat.”

Patton pushed the door open, scanning the room for his son. A beaming grin appeared on his face when he found him, and he made an immediate beeline towards the pile of cushions on the floor.

“Hey, kiddo!” He flopped down right next to Virgil, pulling him into his chest so that he could wrap him in a bear hug.

Virgil grunted in surprise, dropping his switch in his lap as Patton squished his arms to his sides. He squirmed a little, trying to sit up, but Patton only held him tighter, smushing his cheek against Virgil’s soft, purple hair. “Can I help you, Pops?”

He could feel the excited hum of his words vibrating through his scalp. “Come cuddle!”

Virgil squinted. “... Is that not what we’re doing right now?”

Patton giggled. “No, silly! I meant in my room! I’ll bake cookies, and I’ll build us a pillow fort- oh!” He bounced on his knees. “And I’ll even let you choose what movie we watch! As long as it’s not the scary one from last week, with all of the monsters in it.” Virgil rolled his eyes fondly as Patton shuddered.

“The Nightmare Before Christmas isn’t scary, Pat.” He wriggled one arm free and used it to pick up his switch, going back to his game. “Why don’t you ask Princey? I’m kinda busy right now.”

“Oh, come on, kiddo. You can put down the video games for a couple of hours to spend some quality time with your old man, can’t you? Plus…” Patton leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “We both know how much you love your cuddles.”

A choked scoff escaped before Virgil could stop it, his ears turning pink. “I- you- I do not-”

Patton giggled, blowing warm air on the back of his neck. “Yes, you do!~”

“No, I don’t!”

“Don’t lie, Vee. I’ve seen you in action. You’re really not as slick as you think you are, cuddlebug.”

Virgil’s face was so red he thought he was about to burst into flames. He didn’t realise the others actually noticed the way he slowly migrated towards whoever was sat on the other end of the couch during their movie nights, curling his legs up on the cushions so that he could worm his way under their arms and bury his face in their chest. Or how he would drag his beanbag into the common room and plop it in front of anybody in there, sinking down and not-so-subtly leaning back to rest his head against their knees so that they would play with his hair and let him drift asleep. Patton had caught him out, and he’d never been more embarrassed in his life.

In his final attempt to hold onto the last, tattered shreds of his dignity, he turned to the only sensible option left: sulking like a child. He folded his arms with a petulant huff, glaring at the ground. Patton couldn’t help but laugh.

“Awww, what’s wrong, kiddo?” He teased, wiggling a finger under his chin. “Where did that little smile go?”

Virgil’s scowl immediately flattened out, the corners of his mouth twitching as he scrunched his shoulders. Intrigued, Patton repeated the action, grinning delightedly when Virgil made an ‘mmph’ noise, his hand coming up to push him away.

“Wait a second... Is somebody ticklish?”

He pulled Virgil into his lap and tweaked the curve of his waist, earning a loud squeak as the dark side lurched away from the attacking hand, struggling to hide what was unmistakably the beginnings of a flustered smile.

“Oh my goodness,” He gasped, spidering his fingers up and down Virgil’s sides. “This is the most adorable thing in the whole entire universe!”

Virgil whined, premature giggles already beginning to bubble up as he batted at Patton with one hand, burying his burning face in the other. “Shut uuuup!”

Patton chuckled. “Oh-ho, I would watch what I said if I were in your position, Mister.” There was a devious lilt to his voice that wasn’t there before. Virgil’s stomach dropped. “The tickle monster really doesn’t take kindly to that sort of language.”

He would deny the way that he shrieked when Patton reached down to poke his belly until the day he died. Virgil’s hands immediately shot down from his face to protect himself- but unfortunately, that was exactly what Patton was betting on.

“Uh oh! We’d better get those-” He caught both of Virgil’s wrists, pinning them against his chest so that he was effectively trapped in Patton’s embrace. “-out of the way. There we go!”

Virgil whimpered, nervous giggles spilling out as he tugged uselessly at his arms. “No! Pat, plehease!”

“Please what, Vee?” Patton grinned mischievously. “Pleeease… Give you all of the tickles?”

“No!”

“Yeah?”

“Nohoho!”

“Aw, kiddo! All you had to do was ask!”

Ten wiggly fingers suddenly dug into the spaces between Virgil’s ribs. Combined with the teasing and his current helplessness, it tipped him over the edge just far enough that he couldn’t hold back the bright, child-like laughter that spilled from his lips. It was the sweetest sound that Patton had ever heard- and it was coming from Virgil!

Oh, yeah. He was never letting this go.

“I can’t believe that you kept this a secret from us!” He moved to pinch Virgil’s lower ribs, chasing the cluster of sweet spots towards his back that had him squealing and arching away. “Oooo, that was a good spot, huh?” Patton chuckled, reaching over to his other side and repeating the action.

“Ahahaha- Pat! I cahahaha-!” Virgil collapsed against the moral side, his laughter tinged with hysteria as Patton’s fingers started poking his all of ribs randomly, making him squirm so much that he was now practically laying flat in his lap.

“What was that? You can’t believe how much fun you’re having?” Patton cooed, grazing his midriff using his fingertips. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest! And don’t you worry- we’ve got plenty of other places to explore before we’re anywhere near finished~”

Virgil groaned as Patton lifted his wrists above his head, allowing him to catch his breath. He screwed his eyes shut, preparing for another attack, only to jump when he felt Patton’s hand cup his cheek, gently stroking the soft skin with his thumb. He blinked and looked up to see the moral side smiling back down at him.

“You okay there, kiddo?” He chuckled.

Virgil flushed, leftover giggles spilling out as he panted. He was giving him a chance to escape. Asking him if he wanted to continue. Making sure that he was actually enjoying himself.

He knew that he liked it... And he was okay with it?

Swallowing, Virgil nodded. His timid smile morphed back into a wide grin within seconds as Patton’s fingers scribbled their way down his neck, his collarbones; looping over his shoulders before they wormed their way into his armpits, scratching at the taut skin and causing Virgil to fall right back into loud laughter.

“Ehehehe- gehehet out of there!” He cried, pulling at his arms. Patton laughed along with him, still reeling from his wonderful discovery. The sight of a happy, squeaky, ticklish Virgil was a million times cuter than he could ever have imagined.

“Huh? You mean here?” He wiggled a single finger right in the centre. “Okay, sure!” Patton switched to the other side, vibrating his fingers deep into the hollows.

Virgil squawked, promptly falling into uncontrollable cackling. By this point, he was so weak with laughter that he could barely even fight back. Not that that was such a terrible position to be in, but he’d be damned if the others ever figured out that he liked this, as well. Having the resident goofball know was bad enough, but he’d never hear the end of it if word spread around the rest of the mind palace.

However, Virgil didn’t have much time to sit on it, as all comprehensive thoughts evaporated from his head as soon as Patton started to graze his fingernails up and down the underside of his left bicep.

“Nonono-nohoho!” He pleaded, curling his arms around his head, not unlike a baby hedgehog. “Pat! Pahahat! Lemme gohoho!”

Patton laughed. “Oh, I’m afraid it’s too late for you now, stormcloud. I’ve got you trapped, and you’re mine forever!~” He booped his nose gently before moving to the other arm, his lips curling up into a playful smirk. “Plus, I couldn’t possibly let you go before finding your worst spot.” His fingers slowed to a halt. Virgil felt a shiver run down his spine.

“And I’ve got a feeling I know exactly where it is…”

Virgil immediately broke down into nervous babbling, wriggling and giggling desperately as Patton trailed his fingers down the length of his body- stopping whenever he found a particularly ticklish spot to give it some attention- before he arrived at his middle. Slowly, dragging out the process as much as he could, he lifted Virgil’s shirt, the soft material brushing against his skin and lighting up every nerve in his torso, sending the poor dark side into fits of anxious giggles.

Patton tittered amusedly. “Well then, it looks like I guessed right, huh, Vee?” And with that, he used all five fingers of his free hand to form a claw, spidering across the sensitive skin of his stomach.

Virgil shrieked, bursting into loud laughter and kicking his legs out. Drained of his strength and hopelessly giddy, there was nothing left to do except lay there and take it as Patton’s tickly fingers crawled all over his belly, pinching and squeezing and scribbling every tiny, hidden spot until Virgil was sure he’d go insane. It was completely unbearable, and he never wanted it to stop.

“Gitchy-gitchy-goo! Tickle-tickle-tickle!” He cooed, scribbling at the skin beneath his bellybutton. “Gee, kiddo, I think you’ve got to be the most ticklish person on the planet!”

Virgil’s laughter dialled up even further, blushing so hard he could feel it in his ears. Oh, God, not the teasing! He was pretty sure whatever was left of his brain had now melted entirely, leaving him a loopy, flustered mess.

He scrambled around to try and pull together a suitably snarky comeback, when Patton began to scratch at the sides of his stomach and he finally, finally lost it.

“Nahahaha! Stop! Stohohahap!”

Patton gradually slowed down, eventually stopping and pressing the palm of his hand firmly into Virgil’s abdomen, rubbing away the phantom touches that lingered on his sensitive skin. His head lolled to the side, resting against Patton’s hip as he gulped down air, hiccupy laughter bubbling up in between each breath.

Patton chuckled. “You alright there, giggles?” He ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair, mussed up from all of his wriggling.

Virgil, with the remains of a dazed grin still stuck on his face, nodded, nuzzling against the soothing touch. He let his eyes slip shut, the occasional, solitary giggle escaping. The moral side smiled warmly.

“I’m glad. You definitely needed that laugh.”

Leaning forward, Patton switched off his gaming console from where it had been abandoned on the floor, before carefully scooping him up into his arms to carry him back to his room for the snuggles he was promised. Just as he was about to close the door behind him, a quiet voice interrupted him.

“Thank you…” Mumbled Virgil, sleepily.

Patton chuckled. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”

#gahhhh i hope people like this #my writing #prompt writing #tickle #tickling #ts tickle #ts fanfiction #ts fanfic #ticklish!virgil #lee!virgil #ler!patton #moxiety #tss tickle

177 notes · View notes

jeanslongschlong · 3 years

Text

a-z fluff alphabet for connie springer

requested by @squidonmywall !! i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: some swearing

word count: 1871

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your sense of humor! Connie is a really funny guy, so it means a lot to him that you can match his energy at all times. He doesn’t believe in soulmates, but he’s starting to think that maybe, just maybe…

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Your cheeks! Connie LOVES to pinch them, caress them, kiss them, and so on. He makes it his life mission to make you blush, as seeing the red tint on your cheeks makes pride swell up in him over the fact that he made you have that reaction. He also loves when- jk, we’re keeping this PG here. I’ll expand more on this when I do his NSFW alphabet.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Under lots of blankets and on top of lots of pillows. But he will cuddle with you anywhere and everywhere; Connie is not shy about PDA with you.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

I get extremely romantic vibes from Connie, so probably some sort of mountain getaway, during which you spend time in a sauna, go skiing, and have a candlelit dinner with the breathtaking view of the snow-tipped mountains in the background. I can assure you he will do everything in his power to make you swoon, and (more likely than not) CRINGE at some of his cheesy attempts at flirting. He may be a romantic, but I never said anything about being smooth. That is a whole other story.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Connie is pretty open about his emotions with everyone, but even more so with you. You just make him feel so comfortable, he knows that no matter what he’s feeling you won’t judge him; you’ll try your hardest to sympathize and help him work through it. That’s another thing he loves about you, your empathy.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

CONNIE WANTS LIKE FIVE KIDS AND YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND. In any case, he only wants them if you want them of course. He isn’t going to force you into something you don’t want. However, I would say that it could be a deal breaker for him…but it just depends. If you do want to have kids as well, I’d say he wants to start having them around 24/25.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

HE LOVES GIVING GIFTS. I don’t think he has a lot of money so they probably aren’t expensive ones, but expect a bunch of small things randomly. He doesn’t need a holiday to buy you a gift, he just does it whenever he feels like it (which is almost always LMFAO he’s such a sweetie I am in love).

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

All the time. Everywhere. Everyday. He holds onto your hand like it’s his fucking LIFELINE. (please I simp for this man so much he is so precious help)

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Simply put, he would cry. Similar to Eren, he would most likely shut down, overwhelmed by the panic and regret that washes over him when someone informs him of your injury. He would be so patient and loving during your recovery period, though. If you were staying in a hospital room he would give you his pudding cups during dinnertime.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Obviously Connie likes to joke, he’s one of the funniest characters in AOT. However, pranks? Nah. Not alone, at least. Teamed up with Sasha is a whole other story. But I don’t think they’d be anything serious. If he did prank you, it would be like…hiding a whoopie cushion on the couch where you normally sit, not a breakup prank or a cheating prank. He thinks those are too cruel and he would feel wayyyy too bad about it.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Lowkey…I feel like he gives wet and sloppy kisses. But the type that make you feel warm inside. Kissing him brightens your whole day, they’re so infused with love that you could faint.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Words, gifts, kisses, random hugs, cuddles, you name it. He makes it VERY KNOWN in every way possible that he loves you. He is not embarrassed about it at all, and he makes sure you don’t forget it.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Your first date. He stuttered so bad and yet you didn’t make fun of him. That’s when he knew that he had it BAD for you. He went home and literally couldn’t sleep he was so overwhelmed with affection for you.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

He’s afraid that his forwardness will eventually scare you away. He’s so open about everything, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you are, so he’s afraid that one day he will overstep his boundaries and drive you away permanently.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

French kissing is a no-no. Even though his kisses are wet and sloppy, I really think that the thought of your tongues in each other’s mouths gross him out. I think the same goes for Levi, too, if I’m being honest.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Angel, my love, my dearest. THIS BOY IS SO CHEESY BUT IT MELTS YOU

“You’re so pretty, angel. How the hell did I manage to get a girlfriend as heavenly as you?”

(And then you probably made fun of him and you two double over in the type of laughter that makes your stomach cramp. Oh, to be loved by Connie.)

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

A lot, quality time is his love language, second to gift giving. If he had it his way, the only time he would be away from you is when he was at work, at school, or going to the bathroom. Otherwise, he wants to be all up in your business. But, he respects your space so he tries to refrain from asking you to hang out every day. Key word: tries.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

“Two” by Sleeping At Last. No explanation needed.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He tells you everything, even things you think ‘god, why did he tell me that?’ afterwards. SO, he tells you everything. He keeps nothing from you, which makes surprising you SUPER hard for him LMAO. He just wants to tell you as soon as he possibly can.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Not very long. 3 months at most. This boy can’t wait LOL he has 0 patience. He knew he wanted to make you his even before you had your first date, but he waited to give you time to think about what you wanted. (Although how could you not want him??? FR)

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

Super supportive. He will be whatever you need him to be. If you need to scream at him to let out all of your frustration? He’ll let you. If you need him to hold a pillow for you to punch while you’re angry? Consider him your new punching bag. If you need him to just hold you and stroke your hair while you cry? He’ll do it. Anything for you.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He’s honestly just so happy that you love him. He loves to show you off; he tells anyone who will listen how amazing you are, how beautiful you are, how he’s convinced that if soulmates did exist, you’d be his.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Like Eren, Connie would lay down his life for you in a heartbeat. He gets a little scared when he thinks about you fighting, but he knows that you’d be fine, so he never really voices that fear.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Pretty damn well. He’s not dumb, he can tell when you’re actually mad and when you’re just crabby because you haven’t eaten. He’s memorized all of the indicators that point towards how you’re feeling, and he’s always prepared to deal with it.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

SOOOOO ROMANTICALLY PLS IM GONNA SOB THINKING ABOUT IT.

This is the only secret that I feel he would successfully keep from you; he wants to make it as special as possible (which is quite the opposite of Eren LOL). He would take you on a walk near sunset, and would time it so perfectly that you would end up at the place you first met right when the sun starts to set.

The sky is filled with picturesque shades of pinks, yellows, reds, and oranges, and you stop for a moment to gape in astonishment at its beauty. He admires you as you stare at the sky, your hand held to your forehead to shield your eyes from the brunt of the sun’s mighty rays, your eyes filled with such bewilderment that it warms him from the inside out. He takes this moment to kneel down onto one knee, reaching back to fish out the black ring box he had put in his pockets a few hours before.

“Y/N…” he says softly, trying to get your attention. You turn around, expecting him to make fun of you for being so infatuated with the colors of the sky, but instead let out a strangled gasp.

“Holy shit, are you-“

“Yes,” he smiles up at you and reaches out with his left hand to grasp your right. He gives your hand a loving squeeze, sucks in a breath, then continues, “I knew from the moment we met here all of those years ago that I was going to marry you. You know how I knew?” You shake your head no. “The moment our eyes met, I was filled with such a sense of completion that there was no other way to explain it. I’ve told you many times that I don’t believe in soulmates, that I think it’s just a shanty created by the romance genre to create unrealistic expectations when it comes to love. But…I’m now thoroughly convinced that you are mine.”

“Connie, I-“

“Marry me.”

“Yes.”

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Taking a nap with you under a thick blanket. He loves to be held by you, so preferably with him on top of you, your arms wrapped tightly around him and him using your stomach as a pillow. Prime sleeping position for Connie Springer.

#aot headcanons #aot #attack on titan x reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer #connie springer fluff alphabet #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan

149 notes · View notes

elizabeethan · 3 years

Text

Watch the Sunlight Fade: 7 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: We’re getting there! In this chapter we have hints, friends. Let me know what you think!!

Rated M

Get added to my tag list

Read the Rest

Read my Other Stuff

Read on Ao3

~~~~

Killian’s intention was not to sleep with Emma Swan. His intention was to lift her from the couch, gently and easily as he’s done before, and carry her to bed, leaving her to sleep peacefully. He intended to leave her in his room, tucked in and comfortable, and then sleep in his guestroom, listening for signs of nightmares.

He did not intend to sleep beside Emma Swan. When she clung to the collar of his shirt, sleeping as he carried her to bed, he intended to uncurl her fingers, perhaps place a gentle kiss to her forehead, and leave her in the privacy of his bedroom. He did not intend to let her look of sleepy desperation-- of a quiet, hopeless need to be held-- sway him when she pulled him close to her, refusing to let him leave. He did not intend to give in to her so easily, curling up behind her and letting her nestle herself against his front. He didn’t intend for her to fall asleep so effortlessly, and to sleep so soundly through the night as he held her close to him.

He didn’t intend for any of this to happen, but when he wakes with the sun and feels her warmth pressed against him, he can’t say he minds.

The battle that has plagued him internally since the moment he laid eyes on her rages on with her soft, contented sigh, and he wonders what she must be thinking. He wonders what the few moments of gentle peace before she wakes must be like for her. How it must feel to be tricked so easily into feelings of safety in the arms of another, only to wake and be faced with the painful reality that, to the man who is supposed to love her, she is nothing more than a means to an end. It kills him to not know what the end could be.

She stirs, and he knows that the bliss he felt when he first woke is set to fade as reality sets in for her. When she nuzzles her cheek against his bicep, the one attached to his tingling hand, he knows she must still be trapped in a dream, thinking herself cuddling closer to her doting boyfriend. He would give anything for that to be true for her.

With another gentle sigh, she wiggles a bit, her rear unfortunately enticing to his body despite his mind’s commands. “Good morning,” she says softly, her tone relaxed and, he thinks, almost playful.

He can’t help but to laugh just a bit, the sound forced out of his nostrils and blowing a lock of her hair off of her neck. “Good morning to you, too.”

She hums, making no moves to get up despite the morning sun rising higher in the sky. Their time together is running out; Neal is due to be home today, and if she isn’t home when he arrives, he’s certain there will be hell to pay.

“Feels weird,” she remarks suddenly, her voice still quiet but more serious.

“What’s that, love?”

“Being…” she shrugs. “Feeling comfortable, I guess. Safe. Even before all of this, I had to force myself to relax with Neal.”

“And now?” he asks, his hand inadvertently sliding up the curve of her hip over her soft t-shirt.

She’s quiet for a moment before speaking up again. “It’s easy,” she sighs. “I know my life is going to shit, but I’ve never… I’ve never felt this relaxed.”

He should’ve stopped himself from pressing a soft but firm kiss to the back of her neck, but he couldn’t if he tried. “I’m sure that’s not true,” he tries, but she shakes her head immediately. “No? Not even a happy childhood memory?”

She stays quiet for far too long, hinting to him that he’s said the wrong thing. He barely knows her; he certainly doesn’t know enough to make assumptions about her childhood. She confirms this when she finally murmurs, “I’m not sure you know who you’re talking to.” Her tone is light, as if she’s trying to make a joke of it, but he can hear the pain laced through her words.

“Perhaps I don’t,” he challenges boldly, voice strong and almost too powerful in the soft morning silence. “But I’d love to hear more about your beginnings.”

Her stillness makes the blood sing through his veins, hot and painful in response to his anxiety, until she rolls over onto her other side, sliding away from him just enough so that she can look into his eyes. “You really mean that,” she says. It isn’t a question, more like a clarification. A statement used to prove the thought to herself in her own mind. He nods, wanting to drop his hand onto her cheek but holding back.

“Of course.”

She closes her eyes, shying away from him, hiding the shining beams of light from his gaze for a moment before she opens them again and gives him a small smile. “I’m an orphan,” she whispers. Her wording takes him by surprise. She’s an adult, he overheard Neal telling Peter that she’s 25, but she still considers herself an orphan even now. “My parents… I don’t know. They abandoned me. I don’t know who they are. I spent years trying to find them and I never did.”

“So you…” He sighs, biting his lip without meaning to mirror her. His hand is twitching at his side to touch her, to reach out and comfort her. “You spent some time in foster care, then?”

“Care,” she scoffs. “I guess you can say that. I ran away a lot.”

“Aye,” he nods. “If not for Liam, I’m sure I would’ve as well.”

She looks at him so pleadingly, so deeply, her brows drawn tight together and her forest green eyes glowing in the light of the rising sun. “You were in foster care, too?”

“I was,” he whispers. This time, he can’t stop himself from letting his fingers slide along the soft skin of her temple, brushing her hair away. He feels her relaxing into his touch, leaning into his hand and letting her eyes slip shut. “For a brief time, before Liam found our father. He was here with Gold; died shortly after we found him, but Liam had turned 18 so we stuck around with the club.”

Her eyes snap open, something he’d said alerting her senses. “You’ve been with them for a while then?”

“About fifteen years now,” he confirms.

“So do you… I mean, they cared for you. You must have some kind of loyalty to them.”

“No,” he answers immediately. “Fifteen years is a long time. Long enough for me to see the violent corruption that Peter and Neal seem to thrive on. They learned it from Gold, they tried to teach it to me, but Liam taught me the importance of good form.”

Her movements are quick, and he can barely keep up as she scoots close to him and drops her head so that it’s resting against his chest, just below his chin. He doesn’t think before wrapping both arms around her, securing his hold on her and burying his head in her hair. It smells fruity and floral, and he doesn’t think he’ll get enough.

“I always thought I was good at reading people, with the exception of Neal,” she says, laughing softly. “And with you… I mean… I trust you, Killian.”

The relief that washes over him is nearly unbelievable, his desire to be here for her, to help her, too consuming. The confirmation that she trusts him steadies his heartbeat, calms his mind, soothes his soul.

“Emma,” he breathes, and at the sound of his voice, she pulls back and meets his eyes with her. “I promise I’ll get you out of this. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” she whispers. Her words wash warm air over his mouth and remind him just how close they are. He considers closing the gap between them when he sees her eyes fluttering, desperate to make her feel the same intensity that he feels. He craves the softness of her skin against his. He wants her. He thinks he may need her. Her eyes close and he watches her lips fall open just the slightest amount, her breathing evening out at the anticipation of his lips meeting hers.

But reality creeps back into the forefront of his mind, the danger that she’s in sure to increase if they should ever be found out. The half-confirmation that perhaps she wants him in the same way that he wants her is almost enough to hold him over. He’ll never put his own desires ahead of her safety, and he needs her to know that.

So he places his palm on her cheek and runs his thumb along the soft skin under her eye, thinking back to last night when her cheeks were tear and sweat stained after hours of emotional torment. “He’ll be back soon,” he finally whispers, and the way her face falls pains him. “I’m sorry,” he says, unsure why.

She opens her eyes and meets his gaze, seeming to understand as she takes a breath and nods. “Don’t be,” she smiles. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asks, unable to fathom what she could possibly be thanking him for. All he did was tell her of his past and nearly kiss her despite her being in a relationship.

“Everything,” she answers easily. “I’d be broken if you hadn’t come out and gotten me last night.”

“I’ll always be here for you,” he vows, his palm cupping her cheek without having the excuse of moving her hair out of the way.

“I’m scared,” she whispers. Her voice is weak and small, barely audible over the sounds coming in from the open window. “When he gets home, he’s gonna want… I don’t want to…”

“Emma,” he breathes, shaking his head. He’s horrified that they even need to have this conversation, but at the same time, he isn’t surprised. Growing up beside Cassidy, only a few years older than him, he knows how he was raised. The man has expectations of her, and that was made clear to Killian the other day when he dropped everything and barely had her hesitant consent before dragging her back to his bed. It’s wrong for him to have to offer her a way out of sleeping with him. She should be able to say no, she’s not in the mood, and that should be enough. But he knows that isn’t the case; he knows what will happen if she refuses. “Perhaps if you say you’re sick,” he finally offers.

“Yeah,” she agrees, then smiles genuinely at him and says, “I mean, I did throw up last night. I guess I’m not totally lying.”

“Aye,” he grins, although it feels wrong to do so. “You’ll be alright. I’m not sure why, but for better or for worse, Neal needs you for something. He won’t harm you.”

She sighs and drops her head back onto his chest, the weight of it comforting with each rise and fall of his lungs. “I wish I knew why,” she says softly into his shirt. “I mean, I'm nothing special. Why would he want me, of all people, to be here?”

A twinge of anger sparks within him again at her words, at her genuine belief that she’s nothing special. It reaffirms for him that she’s grown up all her life alone, believing that no one could possibly want her. That she couldn’t possibly mean anything to anyone. That the only person she thinks she means something to is an abusive, manipulative monster. It can’t be true, he wants to tell her. It isn’t true. He wants to assure her that, despite hardly knowing her, she means the world to him. But the last thing he wants to do is to scare her off, the prospect of helping her out of this with her comfort and autonomy in tact too important to pass up. He can’t put his own feelings above her.

“I wish you didn’t think like that,” he finally says, letting his hand find the back of her hair again. “You are special. You just don’t deserve whatever it is he has planned for you. You deserve to be happy and safe.”

When she shakes her head again, he vows silently, daring not to scare her with his sincerity, that he’ll spend every day for the rest of his life proving to her that she means something.

~~~~

Emma finds herself being very meticulous about her position in the apartment in preparation for Neal’s return. Killian’s suggestion that she fake an ailment was a good one, but now she has to make it believable enough to turn him off.

She has whiplash from the last few weeks, but from the last day especially. She can hardly believe that she’s in this position in the first place, the fact that she’s found herself suddenly thrown into the role of a gang member’s girlfriend utterly fantastical. A part of her still thinks this is a dream, and if she pinches herself hard enough, she’ll wake up in the arms of her loving boyfriend once again.

Truthfully, she can’t believe that she never noticed. The fact that he was able to trick her so believably, that he got around her firm defenses and her lie detector well enough to sneak into her life, is almost too painful to consider. How could he manipulate her so easily? Is she really that weak? It’s easier to rely on the belief that this is a horrible nightmare and that she’ll soon wake up and her life will go back to normal. It’s not like her life was anything special before, but at least she was living in blissful ignorance to the horrors she now faces.

Neal is not the man she thought he was, that much is definitive by now. Finding out that he’s the brother of the leader of The Lost Boys was a blow so detrimental to her that she almost broke. If Killian wasn’t there to pick up the pieces and glue her back together, she’s certain that she would still be a crumbling mess on the hallway floor.

The helpfulness of his presence is something that she will never be able to put into words. The fact that he was there for her when she needed him, when she needed to be held together and soothed and cared for, the fact that he knew just what she needed in that moment, is something she can never hope to repay.

She feels silly thinking like this, when just the other day she was promising herself that she would try harder with Neal. It’s as if the second she found out about his nefarious intentions, she forgot about him. The way she feels when she’s with Killian makes her fear the way she felt when she was with Neal. Everytime she and Neal were together, she had to force herself to relax, to calm down enough to enjoy his presence. She told herself that it was normal for her to feel that way, that the way she was raised predisposed her to feelings of discomfort in the presence of others. But when she curled up in Killian’s arms last night, it was the most natural thing in the world. It was like there was nowhere else she was meant to be. Like being with him is exactly where she needed to be in that moment. Now, thinking back to the way it felt to be held by him, she wants nothing more than to be back in his arms.

The anxious nausea returns when she hears his keys jamming into the lock, turning it slowly as the sickening anticipation increases. She takes a deep breath, settling herself into the couch and easily putting on her best sick face as he pushes the door open. She’s met with a wide, leering smile that makes her stomach churn more.

“Hey, baby,” he calls as he shuts the door, dropping his bag to the floor in a way that makes her wonder if he expects her to unpack it. It’s as if her sudden realization of his true intentions was a bucket of cold water being thrown over her head, and now she can see him for who he truly is. Each of his actions are selfish, his expectations of her entirely misogynistic and manipulative.

“Hi,” she says with a purposely weakened smile, her voice small. “Good trip?”

“Pretty good,” he confirms, walking towards the kitchen and retrieving a beer despite it being before noon. “We’ll probably have to go out again soon, but I'll stick around for a while.”

“That’s good,” she agrees, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders and nestling into the couch cushions. Despite her stress, she found that she slept better than ever last night, so it’s more work than she expected to pull off a look of exhaustion. “What do you do when you go?” she asks, hoping to get a bit of information out of him.

“Oh, this and that. Nothing you need to worry about.” She fights off the temptation to roll her eyes as he sits on the couch, narrowly missing her feet and seeming not to notice. “What are you doing?”

She shrugs. “I don't feel that good,” she explains. “I’ve been nauseous since last night.”

“You have?” he asks, his interest seeming to be piqued.

“Yeah,” she nods weakly, shutting her eyes. “I even threw up last night.”

“Gross,” he says immediately, and her mind runs back to the image of Killian holding her hair for her. He cocks his head to the side in thought and says, “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, taking another draw from his can. “Just interesting, that’s all.”

She laughs, the sound likely not entirely believable. “Interesting or gross?”

Neal turns to her, his eyes suddenly dark and hooded, his grip on his can obviously tightening. He shifts in his seat, turning his body so that his shirt rides up slightly, exposing the handle of his gun to her line of sight. “Does it matter?”

“No,” she replies quietly, her eyes meeting his in undeniable terror. She doesn’t have to work at making her voice sound small and timid; it happens naturally. “Sorry,” she says without thinking.

She notices that, in the time that he was gone, she felt a sense of strength. Having Killian reiterate to her that what she’s experiencing isn’t normal, isn’t acceptable, has put her in the mindset that she’s strong enough to get out of this. But with a single motion, a few short words, she's back under Neal’s thumb with no chance of escape.

“Great,” he smiles, his demeanor shifting back as he leans back into the couch. “We’re going out tonight. The Rabbit Hole.”

She wants to argue, to remind him that she just told him she isn’t feeling well, but she fears his response and simply nods. “Okay,” she says softly, feeling like less than nothing to him. It isn’t the fact that she doesn’t feel well, because that’s not entirely true. Her nausea is a result of her stress. What bothers her is his willingness to ignore her claims. His ability to forget so easily.

She means nothing to him.

~~~~

The Rabbit Hole is busier than usual, and it occurs to Killian that Peter didn’t bother to enforce it’s closure this evening. The realization makes him wonder about the last time, the night that Emma was brought here and victimized for the first time. It makes him wonder about the disconnect in Peter’s mind that made him want to celebrate such an event.

Tonight, he sees several familiar faces. There’s Scarlett, who was drunk and tried to steal Rufio’s bike one night, earning himself an entirely unwanted role in the club working off his crime. There’s also Tink, Olivia, who got herself into a lifestyle in which she’s never been truly comfortable out of sheer desperation and poverty. There’s William Smee, who boasts an ability to allocate anything the club desires, if only to keep him safe from their rivals.

The bar is filled with people who are here because they have to be, having little choice in the matter. Each of them agreed to be here, agreed to Peter’s terms, but none of them have any way out.

There’s a pair of arms wrapping around his shoulders from behind, pulling him into a hug, and he knows exactly who it is without having to turn. A smile creeps across his mouth when she squeezes more firmly and then spins his chair, turning him to face her and giving him a bright smile.

“Evening, love,” he mumbles softly, giving her a gentle smile.

“Evening, KJ,” she returns. Elsa moves beside him and takes the stool to his left, holding up a hand to signal to the bartender that she’s ready to order. “Having a good night?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, turning back to his drink.

With a snort, she shakes her head and shoves her shoulder against his. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“You’re brooding. More ferociously than usual.”

“I don’t brood,” he grumbles into his rum, taking a drag from it.

“Yeah,” she scoffs, “and I’m a natural blonde. Is this about your girlfriend?”

He turns suddenly, staring her down and raising a brow. “I don’t have a bloody girlfriend.”

“Mhmm,” she hums sweetly. “A winter sangria, please,” she orders, and Killian rolls his eyes.

“It’s still summer, El.”

“I know what I like. Now, talk to me. Emma’s been staring at you all night.”

“No she hasn’t,” he argues into his glass. At least, he hopes she hasn’t. It wouldn’t be safe for her to be staring…

“Killian, please.”

“She’s--” he starts in a moment of boldness, wanting to retreat almost immediately as he realizes where he is. He leans a bit closer to Elsa and practically whispers, “I think she’s in danger.”

“Killian, they’re keeping her safe! As Neal’s girlfriend--”

“She’s in danger from Neal. She had no idea… Elsa, she found out last night that he’s Peter's brother. She thought he was some lackey until Gold told her otherwise.”

“Why would that mean she’s in danger?” she asks, accepting her drink before shifting back to her serious demeanor.

“Why would he lie? What could he want from her that he doesn’t think he could get if he were truthful?”

“KJ…”

“He told her they would leave. He said he would move them to Florida to live happily ever after. You know that’s not what that bastard has planned.”

“Watch your tongue. Are you sure you’re not just looking for another reason to hate him like you do everyone?”

“Who said I hate him?”

She lets out a groan, dramatically throwing her head back before taking a sip of her drink and then glaring at him. “I’m not sure what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, but you’ve got to cut it out. For better or worse, Emma is Neal’s, and you know that he’ll make sure you know that. Him and his brother. They’re in charge; they keep us safe, and all we owe in return is our loyalty.”

She’s right, of course, although perhaps not in the way she means. They are mad enough to go to extremes for arguably unwarranted reasons. If Liam diplomatically disagreeing with them was cause enough for his death in their eyes, he doesn’t want to imagine what would happen if they found out about him and Emma.

Not that there’s anything going on between them, of course. Despite his feelings for her, he isn’t daft enough to think that they’re being reciprocated. She simply needed comfort and he was available and willing to give it. She needs someone to care for her, someone who understands her and what she’s going through, and when all of this is over and she’s away from this abuse, she can move on like none of this ever happened. It’ll be like they never met, and if that’s what’s best for her, then so be it.

Still, the fact that she slept in his bed, in his arms, just last night is dangerous. If that information were to reach the wrong set of ears, he knows it’ll mean bad news for Emma.

“Alright,” he finally grumbles. Although he trusts Elsa, knows that she wouldn’t do anything that would mean trouble for him, he suddenly gets the feeling that she doesn’t understand what he’s going through afterall. Her phrasing is startling, and he’s starting to realize that it’s not the first time she’s spoken like this. She doesn’t know the extent of what happened to Liam, but she’s aligned to the club very faithfully. He was certain that their shared experience, their shared loss, would mean her unconditional empathy, but he can see now that that isn’t necessarily the case.

He fears that he-- and as a result, Emma-- may be more alone than he originally thought.

~~~~

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @hookedmom @pirateprincessofpizza

#Watch the Sunlight Fade #captain swan fanfic #captain swan au #modern au #cs ff au #cs ff #cs modern au #sunlight ff #captain swan fluff #captain swan hurt comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #captain swan angst

37 notes · View notes

theeerealpunkin · 3 years

Text

Blue and Grey (Intrulogical)

Heya peeps! Since so many people seemed to like this, I thought I’d make a short One-Shot about one of the headcannons specifically

I didn’t want to make it too long so sorry if it sucks or something

Pairing: Intrulogical (Remus x Logan)

Prompt: Logan died his bangs blue when Roman made fun of Remus one too many times for the grey streak

"Ever heard of hair brushes? One of those could fix the mess that's living on your head."

Logan shook his head. This was getting ridiculous.

"What? There's nothing living there. Though now that you said it, that is actually a really good idea.."

"Remus? Remus what are you thinking about?!"

There was a slight panic in the Princes' voice and Logan knew without looking up that Roman had gone pale.

Next was a shriek and it was almost impossible to keep his posture and act ignorant to the twins antics.

"All I wanted was for you to brush your hair every once in a while!", Roman screamed while fleeing the living room, Remus right behind him. "Stop telling it to attack me!!"

Logan just sighed, ignoring the feeling of warmth when Remus made eyecontact with him and send him a sly grin.

"Why can't you just fix it?"

Logan took a deep breath.

"Why can't you just fix your face?"

"We have the same face, you idiot!"

He counted to ten, his eyes closed and hands balled to fists.

"I'm still the hotter twin."

"Oh yeah? Well, uh.. at least I wasn't thrown away as a kid!"

He counted to hundred, hoping the anger would dissappear by the time he opened his eyes back up.

"It just.. it looks so wrong, can't you see that?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, momentarily distracted from the book in his lap.

"Does not. You look wrong."

He had to fight back a smile at that. Remus always made sure that his insults sounded more like what a kindergartener would say than the literal embodiment of Intrusive thoughts, painfully aware of how easy it was to destroy Romans ego.

"At least I'm not the one that IS wrong."

The smile vanished. The same couldn't be said for his brother.

"Why is it even grey? Are you secretly one of those, like, old dudes that scream at kids?"

Things were usually calmer when Virgil participated in their regular bickering, neither of the brothers wanted to skyrocket his anxiety after all.

"HAH! I'd give them nightmares for the following weeks!"

'No, you wouldn't.', Logan thought with a smirk hidden behind his book. Remus had a soft spot for kids, always telling Thomas to make funny faces at every kid they saw on the streets.

"And that is exactly why we warn the children on my side of the Imagination about you. No child would survive longer than five minutes in your care."

Remus flinched and even Virgil looked a bit shocked at Romans words.

Logan calmly placed his book next to him on the couch and stood up.

"Remus, I hate to interrupt, but I need some assistance with an experiment. Would you mind 'lending me a hand'? Was that correct?"

Virgil nodded absentmindedly, apparently still not sure how to react to the scene in front of him.

Remus' shoulders dropped, but he forced a big grin on his face before shuffling over to Logan who immediately took his hand and sunk them out to his room where Remus crashed into him, hugging him as if his life depended on it.

Logan sighed.

"No no, I'm intrigued, don't get me wrong. I just don't understand how you plan on backing up the point you have been making for the last five minutes?"

Logan looked up at Remus expectantly, who had his tongue stuck out between his teeth. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but the other side looked simply adorable. His hair and mustache were messes, having just woken up, still clothed in nothing but a green tank top and black boxershorts.

"Are you seriously asking me to give you reasons to leave your bed and get coffee? Coffee?"

As often, his eyes seemed to be stuck to the grey streak in the others hair and he had to literally fight down the urge to run his fingers through it.

There was just something about that streak.. Logan couldn't even tell what it was, but-

"Coffee, Logan. Coffee."

His lips stretched in a small smile, coffee did sound pretty good. But then again, so did staying in bed, his face pressed against Remus' chest and his arms around his torso.

"Argh, I can't say no to you when you're so adorable! You have no right to be so cute! I should cut off your lips then you can't smile like that anymore and-"

Logan pulled Remus back down, effectively silencing him with a kiss.

His hands moved up to play with the curly mess that was his boyfriends hair almost immediately.

Remus grinned against his lips. "You have a hair fetish, you know that right? I didn't even know that exists unti-"

Logan just kissed him again.

It really was only a matter of time before Roman noticed his looks. Of course, the other sides knew about their relationship. Remus was incredibly affectionate after all. And if Remus was set on cuddling, there really was nothing Logan could do to stop him.

But once Roman noticed how Logans eyes kept returning to Remus hair, the temporarily forgotten discussions started anew.

He didn't understand what it was that irked Roman about the others hair. Sure, it was a mess, brown locks standing up in every direction, leaves or sometimes short sticks (or.. other stuff Logan didn't want to think about) stuck in the curls, but he failed to see how that was any of Romans business.

Especially the streak seemed to bother him. Over time, the Princes' comments turned from friendly stabs into more.. hurtful things. And Logan felt like punching Roman in the face for every night that a still very unstable Remus cried himself to sleep next to him. He had changed so much to be accepted, tried to keep his thoughts to himself, bathed regularly (even though he hated it and would rather just spend entire days in the Imagination in his octopus form) and he even ate regularly, reserving the deodorant for really, really bad days.

Logan found that it hurt, to see Remus change everything that made him, well, Remus, only for it to not be enough, never be enough for the only side he really wanted to impress.

And he was about fed up with Roman for making his brother feel bad about being himself.

His hand moved through Remus hair, delicately entangling the knots that always seemed to be there, fingers softly running through the grey streak and his heart broke when Remus flinched away.

"I should just.. get rid of it.."

Logan closed his eyes so Remus wouldn't see the fury that surely burned in them.

"What are you doing here, you lovable nerd? And why the beanie? Are you hiding something?" Remus' eyes lit up a bright green for a second. "Did someone cut off all your hair while you were sleeping? Or did it fall off? Is it splotchy or are you just completely bald? Or-"

Logan pressed his lips against Remus', effectively disrupting the stream of thoughts that went through the others head.

Remus sent him a small grin. "Thanks"

Logans heart jumped a little in his chest, despite being anatomically impossible.

"You look good in the beanie, by the way.", Remus pulled the other side closer, wrapping both his arms around Logan in the process. "I still wanna know what you're doing here though. There are monsters round here, you know?"

"Oh I know." Logan grinned right back at him. "I also know that you already told everyone on this side of the Imagination that you'd kill them if they lay a hand on me."

"Oh, you know that, huh?"

Oh, this stupid adorable shy look on Remus would be the end of him! Any moment now, Logan would fall over and die of a heart attack or something like that.

"But to answer your other question.." Ignoring the soft blush on his cheeks, Logan slowly pulled the beanie down, his eyes figuratively glued to the ground. When Remus didn't react for a few moments, doubt and regret spread in his chest.

Oh, this had been a stupid idea. He was making a fool out of himself. Remus was probab-

"woah"

And then Logans eyes shot open again and he forgot to breath for a few seconds.

Remus was running his fingers through his bangs, incredibly gentle, his eyes opened wide- wider than humanly possible-, lips slightly parted.

Logan leaned into the soft contact, stress leaving his body slowly.

A sigh escaped him, moving the freshly blue died bangs around a bit.

"Wow!", Remus eventually forced out around the lump in his throat. "I thought you'd never dye your hair?"

Logan shrugged, the shy smile on his face, the one that only Remus got to see, the one that made Remus fall for him over and over again.

"I know it looks different and might take some time to get used to, but.." In one motion, Logan run his fingers through the streak in the other sides hair. "I don't.. care what the others think. I just want you to be happy. And if this is what it takes for Roman to finally shut up?"

He pulled Remus closer, who still looked at him in complete awe, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"I'd dye my hair a different color every day for the rest of my life if that makes you happy, Rem."

"You.. you are the sappiest, perfectest side I've ever met." Remus eventually answered, eyes still glued to the new color in Logans hair, voice softer than usual. "And I'm gonna kiss you now cause I have no idea how to thank you for something like that.."

Logan just let himself be pulled in the arms of the walking furnace of a side and smiled against his lips.

Roman didn't dare say anything about the new color the next day.

Or the day after that, when Virgil came down for breakfast with freshly colored purple bangs, sending both Remus and Logan a small smile and a thumbs up.

Taglist:

@nicerockinkid

#sanders siders #sanders sides fanfiction #remus the duke sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #Logan the teach #remus x logan #intrulogical #intrulogical fanfiction #Intrulogical for the win #roman is kind of a jerk #first fanfic on tumblr #first sanders sides fanfic

153 notes · View notes