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fanficsandthings · 3 years

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Through the Years, Ch. 7

A George Weasley Fanfiction

A George Weasley x Slytherin reader story.

Each chapter shares events in one year of George and reader’s life together.

Word Count: 6.1k

Author’s note: i know i’m like 3 months late on posting this chapter, but i promise i haven't abandoned this fic.

Year 1, Year 2, Year 3, Year 4, Year 5, Year 6

Year 6, Part 2: Fireworks

The heavy rain soaked through your clothes as you made your way into King’s Cross. It had been raining hard since early that morning, and the heavy gloom that hung over London was starting to take hold in your chest. The events of two weeks prior were impossible to purge from your mind, and on days like this the memories slowly crept their way forward. You swore that green skull could illuminate the sky again at any moment, so instead, you forced yourself to think about other things.

You uncle and dad had been talking for weeks about an event happening at Hogwarts this year, but they wouldn’t give anything away. All you knew was that you needed a fancy dress, which you bought a week ago at a second hand store. It now sat in the bottom of your trunk, its intended use unknown to you for now.

You no longer needed the motivation to run through the brick wall that separated platforms 9 and 10, like you did in your first year. You and your father casually waited by the wall, wringing the water from your clothes, as you watched the muggles pass by. When all was clear, you casually leaned against it, disappearing suddenly to anyone who might’ve cared to notice.

The steam from the scarlet coloured engine filled the platform, the people rushing about looking more like ghosts than corporeal beings. You searched briefly for a family of redheads, but quickly gave up and turned your attention to the items you had brought with you.

You checked quickly on Minnie, whose carrier was concealed under your rain jacket on top of your trunk. She was dry, just a little perturbed at all the movement happening on the trip here.

“You packed the camcorder, right?” your father asked. “And the extra tapes?”

“Yes,” you told him, “they were the first things I packed.”

“And you’re sure you know how to use it?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure we went over it about 100 times.”

“I just don’t want you to get there and then not be able to capture anything,” he said, looking around at the people on the platform. He lowered his voice a bit to speak the next part. “It’s going to be a very fun year. I don’t want you to forget any of it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Will you please stop being so secretive, and tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” he told you.

You were about to protest and beg for more information when three more people came through the platform portal. Ron, Hermione, and Harry appeared before you, squinting through the steam.

“Oh, look!” your dad cut you off, ignoring the annoyed look on your face. “Friends! Now, go get on the train with them. I might see you sooner than you think.”

You said a very quick goodbye before turning to the three newcomers. They were still looking through the steam, trying to orientate themselves before heading to the train. You snuck up as quietly as your trunk would allow, thankful that the train engine was letting off some noise.

“What’re you looking for?” you shouted, right in between Ron and Harry’s heads. It caused all three of them to jump; the owls in the cages they were holding hooted frantically as they got tossed around.

“Please don’t do that,” Hermione voiced as she clutched her chest.

“Sorry,” you said, smiling, “I couldn’t resist.” You turned your head to look at the brick wall briefly. “Where is..”

“Your boyfriend?” Ron butt in. He turned to Harry and made a fake gagging noise. Harry let out a laugh, amused at his friend’s actions.

“Right behind you,” a familiar voice said. You turned to see Charlie, Fred, and George. George was smiling brightly at you. “We just passed your dad on the other side of the barrier.”

“Charlie!” you exclaimed, giving him a quick hug. “I expected you to be back in Romania by now.”

“Do we even exist?” George whispered to Fred.

“Apparently not when Charlie’s around,” Fred answered.

You rolled your eyes as you turned to the twins. “I’m gonna see you two constantly for the next 10 months. I rarely see Charlie.”

“I took extended time off,” Charlie said, answering your question, “because I’ll be working a little extra in a couple of months.”

Ginny, Bill, and Mrs. Wealsey made their way through the wall behind the twins.

“Hello,” Mrs. Weasley greeted upon seeing you.

“Molly, it’s so good to see you. I was a little disappointed that I didn't get to see you at the Quidditch Cup,” you told her, giving her a hug.

“Quidditch isn’t really my thing, dear,” she informed you. “But I might get to see you all again soon.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you asked.

“It’s nothing,” she said, pushing you back towards Fred and George.

“We should get going,” you said to the twins. “We need to find Lee and seats”

The twins said goodbye to their family, and you all headed off through the steam towards the train. You found Lee, who had already boarded and was saving a compartment for the three of you. You stuffed your trunks above the seats and put Millie’s carrier in the seat next to the door.

It was a weird feeling, purposefully sitting so close to George on the train; him next to the window and your head leaning on his shoulder so you could watch the countryside pass by. Really, it’s not like much had changed from being just friends to dating. You had always sat close to each other before, even holding hands when the situation allowed for it. Something seemed to change over the last couple months, though, and now you felt more comfortable than ever resting your head against George.

Maybe it was the fact that you could hold hands now without people whispering in the background and speculating about you. Or the fact that you could run your hands through his hair, which he had let grow a little longer over the summer, and not be worried about accidentally looking into his brown eyes and having to hide your embarrassment over the matter. You could freely count the freckles splattered across his face and name the constellations you made in them. Freckles that would always remind you of the falling snow on the night you first kissed.

At some point, you let Minnie out of her carrier, letting her roam freely around the compartment, careful to make sure the door was securely closed. She eventually found a comfy stop on the seat between Fred and Lee. You watched as she curled up into a ball, her tail carefully covering her eyes, as if to block out any light.

As the train rolled on and the rain outside got heavier, the windows fogged up, making it impossible to see outside. You turned your full attention to the conversation happening. Lee was talking about what he did over break, and brought up the Quidditch World Cup.

Your eyes moved briefly to the window, thinking you might see the bright green light shining through the rain. George saw your movement and squeezed your hand in reassurance, a small smile on his face. You smiled back at him, telling him that you’d be alright.

Lee mentioned that his father had been cheated out of money over a bet he made with Ludo Bagman at the Cup.

“That dirty little cheat!” Fred yelled at the mention of Bagman’s name, causing Minnie to startle beside him.

“He took our money, too,” George added on. “He paid us back in leprechaun gold.”

“That’s exactly what he did to my dad,” Lee said.

“You bet all the money you had saved, didn’t you?” you asked Fred and George.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed.

“We’ll have to find another way to open the shop now,” George said.

“I still have some money saved up,” you told them. “About 20 Galleons when converted from muggle money. It’s not much but maybe we could find something to invest it in.”

“We couldn’t ask you to give us your money,” Fred said.

“Yeah, I’m sure there’s other things you could use that money for, right? ” George inquired.

“Not really,” you told them. “I’ve always planned to help you with Weasley Wizard Wheezes one way or another. Whether that be through money or inventing inventory.”

“Oh,” George said rather quietly beside you. “Thank you.”

You leaned up and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. “Anything for you, Georgie.”

“And you know I’m always here to test out products,” Lee chimed in.

“Oh, speaking of which,” you voiced, “did you finish those Canary Creams in the last two weeks?”

“Not quite,” George told you. “There’s still some kinks to work out, but give us a few weeks and some of Snape’s potion supplies and we’ll get them done.”

“But!” Fred said, pulling a small, wrapped treat out of his pocket. “We did nail down the yellow hair color.”

“Now we have all the house colors down,” George finished.

“And I think we should take advantage of that,” you said with a grin. You grabbed the sweet from Fred’s hand. “This one’s yellow?” He nodded. “And you guys still have a beef against Cedric for winning the quidditch match last year?”

“We should’ve gotten a rematch,” all three of them said in unison.

“I know, I know,” you said, faking sympathy.

The rest of the train ride was spent slipping sweets into other student’s train compartments and hiding in the hallway until you heard a couple screams. Cedric didn’t really seem to mind too much; being more embarrassed of the attention his friends were giving him because of it, opposed to being mad. You did manage to slip a pink one into Draco’s compartment, but one of his oversized bodyguards ended up eating it instead.

You found Adrian Pucey, who was trying to rekindle your friendship a little bit. He had written to you over the summer a few times. You gave him a blue haired sweet just because you wanted to see if the color would look good on him. It really didn’t, as the Ravenclaw blue didn’t mix with his complexion very well. You made him promise to sit next to you at the welcome feast, and you’d reverse the effects then.

Overall, you were very happy to be going back to Hogwarts where you’d be able to hang out with your friends again.

-----------------

The term seemed to pass too quickly with all the Tournament excitement going on. You had been concerned for Harry ever since his name was pulled out of that blasted goblet, but ever since he won the first task, he seemed to be in a much better mood.

You had snuck out of the castle the night before the first task with Fred and George to meet up with Charlie. He had excitedly shown you the dragons they had brought from Romania, their fiery breaths keeping you warm in the cool November air. You had never seen creatures like this upclose before, and they intrigued you enough to think for just a moment that maybe you wouldn’t mind working in Romania with Charlie.

A month after that, you found Hogwarts covered in snow, the winter chill finally settling in the castle corridors. Fireplaces blazed in every room, warming you ever so slightly as you sat by them. The fireplace in your dorm room did little to help fight the cold of the Black Lake. Again, just like last year, you spent most of your nights in the Gryffindor common room, curled up next to George by their roaring fire.

Minnie took to spending her nights in George’s room. She seemed to be making friends with Crookshanks, as you would sometimes find them cuddled together in the common room.

At times you felt bad for the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. Their carriage and ship didn’t seem like the warmest of homes. You’d look across the school grounds and see them covered in ice and snow, and it would send a shiver down your spine every time.

Christmas Eve came, and the entire school was filled with excitement over the Yule Ball the next day. You were excited too, but there was one more thing you needed to do before that day came.

You had told George to meet you in the Astronomy tower in his pajamas at 10pm on Christmas Eve, a surprise all planned out in your head. You had stolen the radio from the Slytherin common room for the night. It had taken you and Adrian over a week to figure out how to get muggle radio stations to play on it, but eventually you got past all the magical interference and were able to listen to muggle music for the first time in almost four months. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy The Weird Sisters, but sometimes you just missed the music your mum would listen to at home.

You set up your camcorder in one corner of the tower by the stairs, getting as much of the room in frame as you could. With no one else in the room to film, it would be the best shot you could get with the camera.

You met George at the base of the tower five minutes before 10, confusion etched on his face.

“I see you wore the pajamas with a little lion embroidered on them,” you teased him, reaching for his hand. “My cute little Gryffindor.”

He blushed at your words, but he took your hand nonetheless and let you lead him up the stairs.

“You’re literally wearing the same ones but with a snake embroidered,” George said.

“Hey, your mum made them, and I love them,” you told him. You squeezed his hand as you both laughed.

Music from the radio played softly from the top of the tower, a song that neither of you had heard before. When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused briefly to press the record button on the camera. This caused a confused look to make its way onto George’s face, but you reassured him that nothing harmful was going to happen.

You pulled him to the middle of the room, the chill from the winter night just barely reaching you. Pulling him close to you, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. George instinctively put his arms around your waste. You started to sway to the slow song coming from the radio.

“We haven’t been up here in a while,” George whispered.

“Not since fourth year when we flew right into the middle of Professor Sinistra’s nighttime class,” you said, laughing.

“Hey, we both expected her to have a midnight class that night,” George said, “not an 8pm class.”

“I didn’t even mind the detention we got from it,” you told him. “I was just happy that I beat you in the race up here.”

“I remember you cheating to beat me up here,” George said, wrinkling up his nose to tease you. “You and your old money Malfoy broom nearly knocked me into the castle wall.”

“All’s fair in love and war, Georgie,” you said. “I was just using the speed that broom gives me to its full potential.”

“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d still be mad about it.” He leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. “I still can’t believe you finally let me kiss you a year ago now.”

“You can thank Charlie for that actually. He gave me a little pep talk before I came outside that night.” You rested your head against his chest, listening to him hum along to the music. “Do you know this song?”

“I’ve heard you play it before while you were at my house. I quite like it.”

You pulled yourself as close to George as possible, trying to absorb his body heat. You hadn’t really thought about the open balcony and the winter weather when you planned this out. You leaned against him and swayed with the song, only really listening to his heartbeat through his chest. When the song was over and a more upbeat one came on, you pulled away just enough to look at his face.

“Do you think Dumbledore really got The Weird Sisters to play tomorrow night,” you asked.

“I hope so,” he said with a small laugh. “It’s all everyone’s been talking about the past few days.”

“Speaking of the ball,” you started, “Did Fred ever ask that girl he likes to go with him?”

“He asked Angelina a few days ago,” George told you. You wrinkled up your face in confusion. “What? They’re going as friends.”

“But what about that Hufflepuff girl that he talks about constantly?” you asked. “I expected him to ask her, and I thought Lee and Angelina would go together.”

“Lee’s going with a Ravenclaw fifth year, actually,” he informed you. “One of Cho Chang’s friends. Cedric actually set them up.” He seemed to have a hard time admitting that Cedric could do something nice for someone. George and Fred really held a grudge when it came to quidditch.

“Cedric’s a good person, you know?” you said. “He wanted to have that rematch. But back to Fred; why is he being an idiot about his crush?”

“Because he is an idiot in general,” George said laughing. “He asked Angie just to prove to Ron that he had a date. He didn’t think it through.”

You let out a sigh. “He’ll never learn.”

The next song started with a familiar tune. “George, I think you’ll love this one!”

You pulled away from him and grabbed his hand. There was no rhythm to your dancing, but it was fun nonetheless. George left all his worries behind and danced with you, not caring that you two definitely looked like idiots. He did really like the song that was playing, and he enjoyed it even more knowing that you loved it.

You turned your camcorder off after that song, saving room on the tape for the next night too. You walked with George to the balcony, braving the cold to look over the snow covered grounds. Hogwarts really did look beautiful at this time of night. The moon reflected off the white snow and shone brightly over the Black Lake. The ship and the carriage looked like mere children’s toys from this far away.

You rested your head against George’s shoulder as you both leaned against the railing. “Thank you, George.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For being my best friend, I guess,” you said. “It means a lot to me to have someone like you in my life.”

“I’m glad I have you too,” He kissed the top of your head.

You moved your head to kiss him properly, his body heat warming your face as you leaned in. The smell of potions clung to his skin, as he had been working on new products the entire last week. You caught the scent of a rather sweet one, and breathed in deeply. You pulled away reluctantly, but the cold was getting to you and you needed to head inside.

George picked up the camera as you grabbed the radio, turning it off. You walked quietly down the stairs, hoping not to run into anyone at the bottom. He offered to walk you to your dorm, but you knew that Gryffindor tower was a lot closer than the dungeons, so you walked him there.

“Keep the camera for tomorrow,” you told him. “Record whatever mischief you get up to in the morning and then put it in the Great Hall.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He leaned in for one more kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hurried off down the hall as he climbed through the portrait hole. Sneaking down to the dungeons at this hour required a bit of stealth and luck, but you had done it enough to basically know the patrol schedules. You made it to the common room after only one near run in with a teacher, but you ducked behind a statue, just barely avoiding them.

There were a few students left in the common room, so you casually put the radio back in its spot on the table. Hopefully no one had missed it too much.

You made your way to your dorm room, opening the door quietly to not wake your roommates. The last embers of the fire were still burning in the fireplace, and they gave you just enough light to be able to see your way to your bed. The light from the moon didn’t reach this deep into the Black Lake when there was a layer of ice on top of it, so your windows remained pitch black.

You laid in bed, pulling the quilt from last Christmas as close to you as you could. You breathed in the earthy smell and let out a content sigh. Sleep found you easily that night, and your mind raced with dreams of what tomorrow might be like.

-----------------------------

The buzz and excitement in the air was contagious as everyone got ready before the ball. You had spent the morning in the common room with Adrian, trying to get him to tell you who he was going with, but he refused, saying that you’d find out in a few hours anyway.

“Why won’t you just tell me?” you asked, leaning forward and narrowing your eyes at him.

“Why does it matter so much?” he asked in return, ignoring the look you were giving him.

“Because I want a picture of us and our dates,” you said, “and if I don’t know who your date is, then I can’t force them to take the picture.”

“I promise you’ll get your picture,” he said. “I’m meeting up with him in front--”

You nearly sprang to your feet, but kept yourself in your chair when you saw the look of embarrassment on his face.

“So it’s not the seventh year Ravenclaw girl that has a crush on you,” you said, putting your hands over your mouth to think a bit. “I really thought it was her.”

Adrian looked flustered, his cheeks turning red. “What? No, no, she doesn’t have a crush on me.”

“She does,” you told him bluntly. “She asked me if you had a date about two weeks ago. I told her yes, but seeing as you won’t tell me who, I couldn’t give her more information.”

Adrian sank back into the couch, wishing this conversation would end. You looked at him, still thinking about who he could be going with.

“The Beauxbatons boy who wouldn’t stop staring at you on their first night here?” you pondered, but he remained quiet. “The fifth year Hufflepuff who ran into you in the hall last month? He’s cute and rather shy. I remember him apologizing profusely. I noticed him ducking his head away from you when we’d pass him in the hall after that.”

You watched him for a reaction that would give you a yes or no answer, but all you noticed was his face getting redder. Adrian never really talked about crushes and who he liked. This conversation about people who maybe liked him seemed to be a little much for him.

“Alright, one more guess,” you said, “and then I promise I’ll drop it until tonight.” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye. You took it as a sign to go on. “It’s not one of your dorm mates, is it? They’re rather all kinda assholes.”

You finally got a laugh out of him at that. “Absolutely not. I know them all way too well to ever want to go on a date with any of them.”

“Good, just checking to make sure you were still sane,” you said, standing up. “I’ll see you in a bit. Meet back here before we head up?” Adrian gave a small nod as you headed towards your dorm.

You got ready while the rest of your roommates chatted around you. The dress you had picked out just before the school year started hung from a hanger on your four poster bed. The purple fabric of it was accented nicely by some small gold details. You had added a little bit of magic to it over the past few months, making it more your own, rather than just a second hand find.

You found Adrian a few hours later, sitting in the same spot you had left him; his casual clothes now swapped out for dress robes, and his hair neatly styled.

“You look nice,” you told him, causing him to look up.

“Thanks.” He stood up, scratching the back of his neck. He looked at you, taking in your dress. “You look great. Did you get the sparks to work?”

“Yes!” you said excitedly, looking down at the gold details. “Technically not sparks, but you’ll see. Wait till George can see them too. Can you carry this?”

You handed him your disposable camera, and he quickly put it in his pocket. He held out his arm, and you easily linked yours in it. You headed out of the common room, ready to meet up with your dates.

Walking up the stairs from the dungeons, the first person you saw standing in front of the Great Hall was Ron in his interesting dress robes. He was staring angrily at two people as they walked into the hall. It took a second to realize the girl was Hermione, having never seen her with her hair done like that before. You recognized the boy as Viktor Krum when he turned to greet one of his friends as he walked past them.

Viktor’s friend turned in your direction, and his face lit up with a smile as he saw you and Adrian. You turned to Adrian, who was smiling just as brightly back at the Durmstrang boy.

“A Durmstrang boy?” you whispered to Adrian as you made your way over to him. The boy was tall, at least a few inches taller than Adrian, and his long dark hair hung to his shoulders. When he reached the two of you, he turned his attention to you and took your hand, kissing it softly. His green eyes looked into yours briefly.

“Adrian has talked a lot about you,” the boy said, dropping your hand. He looked back over at Adrian, the softest expression on both of their faces.

“This is Georgi,” Adrian introduced you. You looked at him, trying to hide your expression of slight shock.

This is exactly why he wouldn’t tell you the name of his date. He knew you would tease him about going to the ball with a boy who shared a name so similar to your boyfriend. In all honesty though, the two boys were almost nothing alike. Georgi seemed a little more subdued and quiet, opposed to George who, though quieter than his brother, was still too loud for his own good.

While making polite conversation with Adrian and his date, you were also trying to find the twins in the crowd of people. You noticed them coming down the stairs with Lee and Angelina, Lee soon hurrying off to find his date.

You nudged Adrian in the side and gestured towards the twins. “I’ll be right back.” He nodded at you, and you set off through the crowd.

“George!” you called as you ran up and hugged him. He and Fred were wearing matching outfits, probably passed down from their uncles to them.

“Hello.” George pulled you back from the hug, looking at you fully. “You’re beautiful.”

You ignored his statement, trying to hide the heat rising on your face. “Come on, I want you to meet Adrian’s date.” You looked at Fred and Angelina. “You too. I want a picture.” You pulled George’s hand, leading the group back through the crowd.

“You put the camcorder in the Great Hall, right?” you said over your shoulder.

“Yeah,” George confirmed. “About an hour ago. You’ll just need to hit record.”

Meeting up with Adrian again, you gestured to George, introducing him to the Durmstrang boy. “George, this is Georgi. Georgi, George. My boyfriend.”

They stared at each other for half a second before Fred butted in.

“Well, isn’t that fun,” he said with a grin.

You just grinned at Adrian, a smug look on your face.

You introduced Fred and Angelina and chatted for a bit before pulling another student over, who you knew was muggleborn, to take a picture of the six of you. Adrian nudged you and pointed to your dress. You looked down at it before realizing what he was suggesting.

“Oh,” you said, catching the attention of the group. “I almost forgot. I added a little magic to my dress. Adrian, do you mind doing the honors?”

He pointed his wand at your dress, and a translucent, almost invisible smoke came out of the end. Tendrils of smoke reached out, attaching themselves to the center of each little gold detail and then disappearing into the dress. Each gold detail began to shake, as if filled with an immense energy. Suddenly, the details exploded across the dress, mimicking fireworks to the best of their ability. After a moment, they settled into their original shape.

The group was staring at you, transfixed on what had just happened.

“I’ve never seen a spell like that before,” Georgi finally said, a look of wonder on his face.

“That’s because Adrian and I invented it, just for this,” you told him. You smiled as you looked over at Adrian. “We’ve been working on spells and such all of term in our free time. So far we only got the radio to work, and now this. This one isn’t perfect though. The smoke isn’t supposed to be there; it’s supposed to just be an immediate effect.”

George could tell that you were rambling now. He could see that your ramblings were bringing your excitement over the fantastic job you did down into doubt about how it didn’t work exactly how you wanted it to. He reached out and grabbed your hand.

“It was beautiful,” he said. He looked into your eyes, trying to bring your attention to only him, trying to calm you down. “You know I love fireworks. Maybe they could be a part of the uniform at our shop.”

You smiled at him, giving a small laugh. “That would be wonderful.”

You turned back to the group and noticed Angelina standing by herself, Fred nowhere in sight. “Where’s Fred gone off to?”

“He said he needed to talk to someone,” Angelina said, pointing towards the stairs that led towards the kitchens.

You turned, expecting to find Fred putting a firecracker in someone's robes, but instead found him trying to get the attention of the Hufflepuff girl. She was standing close to another Durmstrang boy, but looked rather uncomfortable at the whole situation. She kept trying to scoot closer to Cedric, but every time she did, the Durmstrang boy would scoot with her. Cedric said something to her before he took Cho by the hand and led her into the Hall. Fred called her name again, but she continued to ignore him, instead saying something to her date before they too walked to the Hall.

“Why didn’t he just ask her?” Angelina asked beside you. “I would’ve been fine going with someone else.”

“Because he’s an idiot,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re not wrong,” Angelina agreed.

The entrance hall was getting emptier as everyone filed into the Great Hall. You took this as the cue to follow suit. You stood in the large crowd, pressing play on your camcorder as the school champions were ushered to the dance floor. The dancing started, and George almost immediately pulled you to the dance floor as more people joined in.

The night went by quickly, but you would always be able to watch it back thanks to your camcorder, and look at pictures that you took.

Your favorite picture by far was one of Adrian squished in a hug between the twins, their red hair and gold vests standing out extravagantly against his all black outfit. Adrian and the twins were still not the best of friends, but over the past few months they had all agreed to try to get along for your sake. The twins liked to show their progress through aggressive acts of friendliness.

The videos were another story. They showed the night in motion and sound, something you were eternally thankful for. You could never give enough thanks to your dad for buying the camcorder for you.

The video of the school champions dancing showed Hermione being the happiest you had ever seen her. It was quickly interrupted by you laughing as George pulled you onto the dance floor, followed by Fred grabbing Angelina to dance with him. It even caught a bit of McGonagall dancing with Dumbledore, a surprising sight, as you had thought you would never see either of them dancing in your life.

You caught a video of Percy, zoomed way in on his grumpy face as he watched his ex-girlfriend dancing with someone else. Penelope looked happy with the boy she was dancing with though. You knew in a few years, hopefully, Percy would be able to laugh at his emotions too.

You got Fred and George pulling Percy, Ron, and Harry out of their seats as The Weird Sisters started to play. Ginny joined their group to dance with her brothers; the three excited Weasleys trying their best to dance the grumpiness out of the others. You set the camera down on a table, facing the group and ran to grab Adrian and Georgi. Passing Angelina and Alicia on the way back, you told them to come with you too. Your large group now took up much of the dance floor, but no one seemed to mind as you all jumped around to the song the band was playing.

The next video had the band playing a slower song in the background. The camera just sitting on a table, having been accidentally turned on by someone. It showed the Hufflepuff girl sitting at a table with Percy. They were talking, but the music drowned out any words that they were saying. Percy looked a little happier than he did earlier. Fred came into frame, sitting next to Percy, but putting his whole attention on the girl. She said a few short words to him, but when it was obvious she didn’t want to talk, he got up and walked towards the camera. He must have noticed it was on, because he mumbled a few words at it before the video cut off.

There was a short video of you and Adrian walking outside in front of the castle, lights sparkling around you. George and Fred were a few paces ahead of you, talking about something you couldn’t hear. Georgi had offered to record for a bit, even though he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. The video cut off abruptly when the camera was dropped.

The last video on the camera was George recording you as you were leaving the Hall for the night.

“How was your night,” he asked from behind the camera.

“I had a great night,” you told him, walking backwards. You were holding up your dress so you didn’t trip. “Better than some people.”

The camera panned over to Fred, who flicked it off. He had a smile on his face, though, so you knew he still had a wonderful time. George moved the camera to catch Angelina in frame.

“Did you still have a good time,” he asked her, “even though your date was kinda a drag?”

“I had a wonderful time,” Angelina said as she put her arms around Alicia and Katie, who were walking beside her. “I still had my best friends to lift the mood.”

“And what about you,” George turned so now he was walking backwards, camera pointed at Adrian and Georgi. They were walking hand in hand, Adrian’s head resting on Georgi’s shoulder.

“It was alright,” Adrian said, smiling up at his date. Georgi squeezed Adrian’s hand.

You had now reached the base of the stairs that led up to the Gryffindor common room. Everyone stopped walking to say their goodbyes.

“One more thing,” you said to the camera. “I wanna get my spell on record.” You grabbed out your wand and pointed it at your dress, setting the fireworks in motion.

“Beautiful, as always,” George hummed behind the camera. “I think this is where we part ways.” He took your hand in his. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight.”

The video stopped as you leaned in to kiss him.

#george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x slytherin!reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #slytherin #slytherin reader #weasley twins #fred and george #fred and george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #through the years series #my writing

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mspufflehuff · 3 years

Text

Maybe Kids Aren’t So Bad

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: Y/N and Bucky have been dancing around their feelings for a while now. They decide to get out of the tower and go to the store. They happen to pass by some kids who are fans of the avengers.

Word Count: 2.3k words

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, torture, nightmares, and lots of fluff.

Masterlist!!

Author’s Note: I saw lots of people liked my first fanfic! Soon after I saw people liked the first one, I started writing this one. I hope you all enjoy it because I sure did. Have a great day everyone who reads this! (gif below is not mine!!)

"Does someone wanna go with me to go grocery shopping?" you asked the others in the tower as you stood behind the island. Everyone had been awake for about 15 minutes and almost all of them were eating in the kitchen. A few of them didn't hear you as you didn't say it very loudly. Tony told you he had things to do, just like him. Thor and Natasha said they had to train today and go to a mission briefing. Steve apologized and told you he had to finish and turn in the report for the mission he got back from yesterday.

Soon Bucky walked into the kitchen. He looked like he hadn't been sleeping, which you knew very well since you could hear him at night through the walls. You wanted to comfort him but you were nervous since you didn't know him all that well to begin with. He had arrived at the tower a few months ago and was very quiet with everyone except Steve.

You couldn't deny that he was an attractive man. You also had a soft spot for him since you knew what it was like to be alone and scared in some type of lab that kept you against your will. You had been abducted when you were a teen and had been taken to some type of scary lab where you were injected with chemicals. The scientist had given you powers that allowed you to control the plants around you. You could harness energy from them and control them by will.

You could understand Bucky's nightmares and feel the pain in the sound of his screams at night. You used to have those same screams and nightmares but learned to keep them from keeping you up at night. You had started meditating, talking to people, training to release all your anger, finding hobbies that distracted you, and even simple things such as writing it down to then burn the paper you wrote it on.

You watched as he sat down at one of the island chairs. Most of the avengers had already left the room by the time he sat down. You looked at him and gave him a soft smile. "Morning, Bucky. Would you like some coffee?" you asked him in a soft voice, watching his ocean blue eyes move across your form. "Yes, please…" he replied in a tired but sweet voice. You grabbed the mug he used most of the time and filled it with coffee. He watched how you got everything right about his coffee, down to how much he would naturally fill it.

He was surprised and yet amazed you paid that much attention to him. "Here you go." You handed Bucky his coffee, and he grabbed it with his right hand, gently grazing your fingers as he held the handle. He watched your eyes when your hands grazed. He thought he saw something there sparkling in your eyes but wasn't sure as you turned away to get him something to eat. You turned to grab him something to eat as well as to hide your light blush from your fingers grazing.

You took another minute to turn back around so the blush could cool from your cheeks. Handing him a protein bar, you picked up the cup of tea you had made yourself earlier. "I wanted to ask if you wanted to get out of the tower and go to the grocery store with me?" Bucky looked into your eyes as he thought about if he was up for it. He had to think not because it was you, but because he was scared of people seeing him and running. He hardly left the tower unless it was for missions or on the off chance he needed clothes to wear.

"Sure, Y/N. I think that would be good. It's a nice day out, and we can hang out together as we don't normally hang out." He spoke with a soft smile on his lips, taking another drink from his coffee. You smiled happily and nodded towards him. "Alright then! It's a date! I'll let you eat, and I have to do a few things before we go out. I'll meet you in the lobby around 12?" you asked, walking towards the end of the island, making your way to the hallway. "It's a date.' Bucky agreed and smiled back, watching you walk off.

~Time Skip~

It had been about an hour since Y/N and Bucky said they would meet up in the lobby for their 'date'. You had been nervously pacing around your room after you heard the word date fell off of Bucky's lips. You didn't know what to do or wear. Well, you had an idea of what you would wear, but would it make you weird? Finally, you decided on a cute sundress since it was sunny and warm outside. You fixed your hair, put on light makeup (or no makeup if you don't wear any), and picked out your comfy pair of vans. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you let out a sigh and thought you were trying too hard to look cute for Bucky. "Why am I dressing like we are actually going on a date?" You asked yourself aloud and towards the mirror.

You grabbed your phone and looked at the time, grabbing your small purse while walking out the door. Making your way to the elevator, Bucky stepped out of his room in a pair of comfy clothes. He was wearing a navy blue shirt with some light blue jeans. He tried to look nice like you did. He had brushed his hair back some and looked relaxed. He soon noticed you and gave you a smile, the one that usually melts you into a puddle.

"Oh hey, Doll… Wow You look so pretty…" he tells you softly as you walk up towards him. "You look pretty handsome yourself." you replied, shyly smiling as you both walked towards the elevator. "I have a list on my phone of what we need to get for everyone. I was also thinking of cooking and baking tonight for everyone." you told Bucky as you turned on your phone. "What were you planning on cooking?" he asked, pressing the button for the lobby.

"Hmm… I don't know just yet. I was thinking of making something called Beef Tripe soup. It's a famous dish in Romania, and I've always wanted to travel to Romania, or well anywhere that isn't here in the United States." You rambled a little as you rode the elevator with Bucky. "Sorry... I love to cook and bake. I grew up baking and cooking with my mom before I was kidnapped." You smiled as you reminisced about your memories with your mother. "Doll, it's ok. You can ramble to me. I enjoy hearing from you talking about food and different recipes." He then took in the last sentence that you were kidnapped. Steve had briefly mentioned you had been kidnapped but never went any further than that. "If you don't mind me asking, how were you kidnapped?" He was curious but didn't want to bring up any painful memories the kidnapping had created for you.

"Well, I was at home and working on homework for school, boring, I know." You chuckled and thought back to it. "I remember sitting at my desk and having my earbuds in. I realized it was around maybe 10 pm, and I was hungry for a small snack. So, I went downstairs with my earbuds still in my ears. As I made my way to the kitchen, I felt someone or something looking at me. I turned around to see a guy in all black. He ran towards me before I could scream for help. He knocked me out and took me to this disgusting lab, had me strapped on an old medical operating table."

Bucky listened to you, pissed beyond belief that someone kidnapped a random girl from her house. Let alone the fact that you were only a teenager when you got kidnapped, which made his blood boil. You continued, not noticing Bucky's face. "For years, he would test on me, come up with new experiments and chemicals to put into my body. Finally, one day after he said he found 'the perfect formula,' he tested it on me. After hours of being in excruciating pain, I found out that I could control plants… There was a weed growing in front of the small window he kept in his lab. It was the only window that had access to sunlight. I remember him beating me, and as I was begging him to stop, the plant grew larger as if it felt my pain and came to help me."

"It kept growing as he kept beating me into submission so he could test more chemicals on me. After what felt like an hour of beating me up, the plant managed to become this massive accumulation of weeds, flowers, leaves, and any other plant material it could find. It made its way to the man and wrapped around him, pulling him away from me. The plants started strangling him. He eventually lost consciousness and once the plant realized he was passed out, it started wilting slowly and soon died. You could say my pain was what caused the plants to save me."

Bucky was watching you in awe, though he seemed upset (at the man, never you) at your story. "Wow, Doll… I can't believe that happened to you. I'm so sorry." he told you, and you gently took his metal arm and held his hand, smiling softly up at him. "Thank you, Buck. I really appreciate it. It took some time to get over it and the pain of the nightmares, but I'm stronger than I used to be because of it." You let go of his hand when the elevator dinged to let you know you made it to the lobby.

You both walked out of the elevator and to the grocery store that was around the block. You walked in casual silence and grabbed a shopping cart once you entered the small store. Bucky helped you get everything on the list and a few ton of other things you didn't really need but was requested by the other avengers. After what felt like a long time, you and Bucky finally finished shopping and headed towards the checkout section.

As you and Bucky made your way over to the checkout section, you both heard soft gasps from behind you. You both then heard whispering that sounded like it belonged to some children. "Is that really him, Charlie?!" "It has to be Dante!!" Soon, the sound of running could be heard coming from behind you and Bucky. You looked towards Bucky to see if he heard it as well. He had. As you both turned around, you saw two young kids that looked to be around 6 or 7, running towards you both.

The two kids, Charlie and Dante, you assumed, stopped in front of you. They look up with awe on their faces at you and Bucky. "Mr. Winter Soldier??" The little boy asks Bucky with a bright smile on his face. "Uh.. yes?" he asks as he moves to stand on one knee before the little boy. "Can I have your autograph?? Please, Mr. Winter Soldier! You're my favorite superhero!!" Bucky was taken back at the boy's words. "O-oh sure!" He was excited that a young child wanted his autograph after everything he's done as the winter soldier. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, writing Dante a note before signing it.

Bucky handed Dante the note with a smile. Immediately after he gave Dante the signed paper, Dante gave Bucky a big hug. "Thank you so much, Mr. Winter Soldier!!" Dante told him happily and ran over to his mom. Charlie was talking with Y/N the whole time Bucky was with Dante. "Ms. Y/L/N?" She shyly asked you while tugging on your dress lightly. "Yes, hun?" you asked with a smile and moved down to her eye level. "Are you Mr. Winter Soldier's girlfriend?" You blushed dark, and your eyes widened at Charlie's words.

"Uh… well, that's a complicated sweetheart. Maybe one day." you tell Charlie, and she smiles brightly and squeals, running off to her mom and brother. Bucky, thankfully, didn't hear you tell Charlie you hoped to be his girlfriend one day. After you talked with the kids, you paid for all your groceries and walked back to the tower.

"Hey, Doll?" Bucky asked, looking at you as you walked beside each other on the street. "Yes, Bucky?" you replied, glancing at him before turning your head to look in front of you. "What did that little girl ask you? I heard her say something, but I couldn't make it out." he asked you curiously, having wondered since they left the grocery store a few minutes ago. "Oh yeah. She did ask me something.." you said softly as you kept walking, not telling him as you were scared he wouldn't like you back.

"Y/N, was it something bad? Something that made you think of past memories?" He stopped you in the middle of the sidewalk, gently grabbed your hand. "No, no, Bucky, I promise! It's just… embarrassing…" He tilted his head like a confused puppy looking at you. You took a minute before you let out a sigh. "She asked me… if I was your girlfriend." You looked away for a second before looking back at him.

"Oh... " he mumbled out softly and looked away from your gaze. You were scared that he would reject you, but you had no time to react as he said, "Well, would you like to be?" Your eyes widened, and you blinked a few times. It took you a minute to come back with a response. You soon found yourself smirking, asking him, "Why don't you take me on a date first, Barnes?" You took your hand out of his and walked into the Avengers tower, feeling confident in yourself. As you left Bucky on the sidewalk to walk into the tower, you heard an excited Barnes exclaim, "Finally!" You giggled as you continued into the tower.

#bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #fanfic #oneshot buckybarnes

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unloved-cadillac · 3 years

Note

Hi. Can I request a reader who has a different culture to Levi in the modern au? She is a Chinese diaspora (a Chinese outside China, Taiwan and Macau), who can speak a South East Asian language (e.g. Indo), sometimes roams around in traditional dresses, strong tolerance to spicy food and refuses to move in with him due to cultural differences? Also, since he's an old man, she might initially treat him like an elder respectfully until he loses it. ;) Finally, no cleaning on Chinese New Year. ;)

C/n: whew, you guys really put in a lot of trust in me to do this. I learnt so much here!! Y’all making me want to visit every country on this planet. Italics mean Indonesian. HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!!! Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

———————————————————————

The Perfect Girl. (Levi x Reader)

Levi was never one to date. Even one night stands were things he never found interest in. It’s not that he didn’t want to date, it’s just that he had never found the girl that captured his heart. Until Y/n came along.

Y/n was half Chinese and half Indonesian. She was the power embodiment of a princess. She was respectful, kind and just a ray of sunshine. Levi met her through Mike and they both grew very close. Levi caught himself thinking about her quite often and he would sometimes see how her eyes would flicker to his in a moment. He was falling for her, he knew this. But there was only one thing he hated:

“Lǎofū*, would you like anything else?” She asks Levi after sitting down. Levi internally groans at the honorific. He knew that was how Chinese people addressed elder men and he loathed the name. He wasn’t even that much older than her! 6 years wasn’t that bad, was it? So bad to call him that?? “Y/n, please. Do you really have to call me Lǎofū? Isn’t that for older men?” He asks her and she tilts her head in confusion. “But you are kinda old.” She says and he lays his head on his hands. Y/n laughs and he glares at her.

~~~~

There was a new restaurant that had Indonesian cuisine that Levi was dying to take Y/n to. He figured that this would be the best place to confess to her and she could eat some food that she grew up with.

Levi had booked a reservation at the restaurant and called Y/n to invite her in which she gladly accepted. One could say she was very excited because she showed up using her traditional outfit that she bought a few days prior. Levi’s eyes widened at her and she smiled a shy smile at him. “Wow.” He breathed out. She looked stunning. If Levi didn’t love her before, he certainly did now. The kebaya suited her perfectly and Levi had to avoid his gaze to stop him from staring for too long. “Uh, shall we?” He motions to the restaurant and she nods.

When they get seated, their waiter comes to place their order and when Y/n speaks, Levi is stunned. “Hello. May I have some beef rendang with four ketupat and a side of white rice and a glass of water please. Make the rendang extra spicy.” She says in Indonesian and Levi watches her in awe. She turns to face him and smiles. “What will you have, Levi?” She asks and he snaps out of his daze. “Uh. What do you suggest, Y/n?” He asks and she looks at the menu again. Her eyes sparkle and smiles. “I suggest the Opor Ayam.” Y/n says and Levi nods and speaks to the waiter. “I’ll have that with black tea, please.” “Oh! And an order of Satay!” Y/n says suddenly and Levi chuckles. “Coming right up!” The waiter says and leaves. Levi looks at her. He puts his head on his fists and starts to smile. Y/n looks at him and giggles. “What’s with that smile, Lǎofū?” His smile drops and scoffs. “I’m going to ignore that. You speak Indonesian?” He asks and she nods enthusiastically. “I speak Indonesian and Mandarin. Why?” “It’s sounds beautiful when you speak it, Y/n.” Levi flirts and Y/n flushes. “Oh, Levi. Stop. You’re making me blush.” She covers her cheeks and he smirks. “Good.”

After chatting for a few more minutes, their food and drinks arrived and Levi was in awe of everything set before them. He took a sip of his tea and he sighs blissfully. “Like it?” Y/n asks and Levi nods. “It’s unlike any other black tea I’ve had. Let’s eat.” He says and she agrees. Levi took one bite of his food and he could swear he was in heaven. This was the best food he has ever had. “Levi! Try this.” Y/n places a bit of her rendang on her fork and places it by his lips and he happily take it. His smile doesn’t last long and he quickly takes a large gulp of his tea. “Y/n! What the hell? That’s spicy as hell! You’re trying to kill me?” He exaggerates as she giggles. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was that spicy.” He glares at her and she continues to laugh. “How can you even taste that?” Levi asks as he orders another tea. “If I’m being honest, it’s not spicy enough.” Levi’s eyes widen and his jaw opens slightly. Y/n laughs at his shocked state and places a satay stick in his mouth.

Finishing dinner, Levi and Y/n walk around town and then takes her to the park. It was a perfect night and the street lights made her dress sparkle beautifully. Levi looks at her as she looks up at the stars and think: Well. It’s now or never. “Y/n. There’s something I will like to tell you.” He says and she stops to hear him. “What is it?” She asks and he takes a deep breath. He steps towards her and takes his hands on hers and looks at her. “I, Uhm. Shit.” He starts to say and he could feel his cheeks turn red of embarrassment. She looks at him and smiles. “Looks like I’m making you blush now huh, Levi?” She playfully says and he scoffs. “You’re making me nervous, idiot.” Levi says softly and she cups his cheek to make him look at her. “There’s no reason to be. It’s just us. Take your time.” She whispers and his eyes widen at her sincerity. Go for it. “I like- no. I love you, Y/n. I really do. I have for a while now I just wanted to get to know you better and I want to be the person that you can rely on and be there for you so I just want to-..mmpf!” He gets cut off when her lips land on his. His eyes flutter close and they melt into the kiss with each other. Y/n pulls away and wraps her arms around his neck and pecks his cheek.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous Levi. But I love you too.”

~~~~

That was almost a year ago. Now, Levi and Y/n were in a happy relationship. Levi learned so much about her culture and she taught how to speak Indonesian. He was a bit rusty but he was improving quite well. Although Levi was happy with her, he wanted one more thing. He wakes up from the couch and walks to Y/n who was cooking in his kitchen and he wraps his arms around her waist, startling her.

“Oh! Sayangku* you scared me.” Y/n sweetly says as she reaches behind her and stroked Levi’s face. “Sorry.” He simply says and Y/n notices something wrong. She turns around and looks at him. “Are you okay? Do you have a fever?” She places her forehead against his and he smiles. He quickly pecks her nose and she gasps. “Cute.” He says and she pouts. “But yes. Something is wrong. And it has something to do with us.” He says seriously making Y/n gulp. “O-Oh. Okay. Let’s sit down first.”

She offers and they make their way to the table and Levi sat next to her. She didn’t show it, but Y/n was scared shitless. Did he want to break up? “I..” Levi begins snapping her out of her thinking, “I’ve been thinking about us. And taking the next step in our relationship.” Y/n’s breath hitches but Levi continues. “I love you, Y/n. And I want us to spend more time together.” He says and Y/n tilts her head. “But we do already. Like this.” She holds his hand and he places both of his on hers. “Yeah I know. But I want to..wake up next to you. I want to go to sleep next to you. I want us to be with each other more. So, will you move in with me?” Levi asks and Y/n’s eyes brighten. Move in? She was about to say yes but then her parents flashed through her mind. Y/n’s parents had taught her that only married couples should be living together and that it was immoral for her to move in with her boyfriend unless they’re married. She sighs and pulls her hands away from Levi’s making him panic.

“Levi, I really appreciate the offer. You have no idea how happy it would make me to move in with you. But it’s not really part of my culture. I don’t think it would be appropriate for us to move in with each other unless we were married.” She says the last quietly and looks down at her lap. Levi doesn’t say a word for a while. He just looks at her and thinks to himself. Y/n was too scared to look at him. He was probably so mad at her and that was the last thing she wanted to make him.

Suddenly, Levi’s chair scraps and his footsteps descend into his bedroom and shuts the door. Y/n was frozen. What was he going to do? Was this...the end of them? She shuts her eyes when she hears the bedroom door open, not wanting to see Levi’s face just yet. Her chair is moved and she yelps and she opens her eyes to see Levi kneeling in front of her. With a box in his hand.

“I was originally saving this for your birthday but I figured that this was the right time.” He says and she gasps when he opens the box. Levi looks at her and smiles. “Will you marry me, Sayangku?” He asks in Indonesian and Y/n eyes widen at how he asked. But she then nods. “Yes! Yes! I will!” She screams and leaps into him, making them fall to the floor. Levi laughs and puts the ring on her finger. Y/n looks at it and then Levi and he kisses her.

“Now please don’t call me Lǎofū.”

———————————————————————

“Please marry me Levi. I’ll do anything. I hope this was what you were looking for.”

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔:

> Lǎofū: a Chinese honorific used to address older men.

> Sayangku(Indonesian): my dear.

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scottymcgeesterwrites · 3 years

Text

Ambiguous

There has been something I need to write about and shout into the void. It has been tearing me apart, and I don’t know how people will react elsewhere, so I figured this was the safest place. This will be the soft reveal before even speaking about it to my friends. Or maybe I will never speak about it ever again. Maybe I will feel fine after writing it this way. For my entire life, people have mistaken me for being Indian, to the point where actual Indians walk up to me and start speaking in their dialect. My mile-long blank stare makes them realize that I am not Indian, and one of two things happen - they either apologize and explain they mistook me for Indian, or they exclaim, “You’re NOT Indian?”

I’m Cuban and Colombian. I grew up in New Jersey. I am an American citizen but it gets confusing when you take into account that my mother flew to Santiago, Chile to have me there because of a clinic that specialized in geriatric pregnancy at the time, so my “birthplace” reads Chile on my passport. That’s always a mouthful to have to explain and it further confuses people, so I end up saying, “I was born in New Jersey”. My skin tone is best described as ambiguous. I could be many things. I’ve gotten Middle Eastern, Indian, and specifically “Egyptian”. I have no idea why “Egyptian” but. Whatever. I have always lived in some liminal space where people ask the dreaded question, “What are you?” Now here’s the most frustrating thing of all - not everyone who has asked me that was white. Growing up, I thought that I could relate to someone who wasn’t white to understand how I feel. Black people have asked me that. Indian people have asked me that. Middle Eastern people have asked me that. Cubans and Colombians have asked me that. Throughout my youth, I was paranoid that maybe I was adopted or something, given how people didn’t seem to connect me with my parents. I was told that my Cuban side hails from Spain, but my Colombian side is shrouded in mystery. My dad never liked to talk about my family. I never knew anyone past my grandparents. Well, I did meet my great-grandmother once when I was seven, but she had practically turned back into a baby at that point, banging on the table demanding food and needing to be spoon-fed. My own people don’t recognize me, and they often say things like, “You don’t LOOK Latino!” or “What? You’re LATINO?” and the best one yet “You don’t SOUND Spanish!” The worst offenders, however, would laugh and say, “¡Pareces Hindu!” which means “You look Hindu!” Hindu is the religion, dumbass. Anyone, and I mean anyone, can be racist and slip some “micro-aggression”. I am not fluent in Spanish, but I can write and understand every word in Spanish. I often inadvertently offend Spanish-speaking people when I reply to them in English when they thought they were being sneaky by talking in Spanish around me. The reason I don’t speak Spanish as fast as my peers is because of two reasons: 1. My parents at the time when I grew up believed in the misconception and pseudoscientific belief that children will be “confused” if two or more languages are spoken in the house. 2. Central New Jersey, where I grew up, hadn’t yet seen many Hispanic people, so locals at the time often leered at people who spoke Spanish in public. When my mother took me to our local Gymboree, I spotted a butterfly and shouted in Spanish, “¡Mariposa! ¡Mariposa!”. The other mothers kept staring at me, and then distanced themselves from us. The weirdest thing ever was experiencing white people who studied the Spanish language better than me and making fun of me for actually being Spanish but being unable to speak it fluently. I had a crush on this girl whom I’ll call “Anjy” in freshman year of college. It took me until now to realize that I think she had a Latino fetish. Anjy only exclusively went out with Latino men, but never seemed to openly admit it. The only thing she did admit was that, “I can only be with a man who speaks Spanish. It’s so important to me.” So obviously I wasn’t a contender, despite being Latino. Anjy doesn’t have an ounce of Spanish in her. None. But she studied it since high school and fell in love with it and became Spanish’s #1 fan. I was so jealous of how fluent she was. She could roll her r’s and speak it beautifully. Since we became friends, I said to her, “Oh, I can finally practice my Spanish with someone!” We tried, but she laughed at me and said, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. You sound like a gringo.” It’s a very topsy-turvy world where some white girl uses a derogatory term on me, a derogatory term from my culture that describes an outsider, used to describe me. She went to Costa Rica after we graduated, lived there for a few years, and came back home with a husband. (That’s when I fully realized just how much she fetishized us.) A few years ago, my now-fiancée gifted me a DNA test for my birthday. That came out of left field for me, and opened up a range of emotions that I wasn’t ready for. She said she remembered how I wondered aloud why I looked the way I looked and about my ancestry. I sat on the DNA test for a while.

I stared at it.

I held the kit in my hands.

I opened it and closed it. What if I really was Indian? What if I found out something that made me feel so much worse? But how bad could it be? I was also wary about the company keeping my DNA for nefarious reasons. However, luckily enough, my fiancée had bought the kit from AncestryDNA - the one DNA company that has responded to people saying they would delete their DNA at their request. I bit the bullet and sent my sample. When the test came back, I opened it up and everything made sense. It made so much sense that I laughed out loud. It’s so funny how nobody has guessed the only other possibility for my skin tone that is what I actually am. I am pretty much half native to the Americas. I’m not sure what that’s called. Native American seems to be associated exclusively to North America. So Native South American? Native to the Americas? Native American (et al)? The Colombian side can be traced through turmoil in South America, up through Mesoamerica, and into North America. So many spots lit up all over the Americas. And like the Cuban side said, I was indeed from Spain as well. I was split right down the middle. 50/50. The native side and the European side were practically screaming at each other in my genes. I felt as though a great weight had been lifted from me that I didn’t even know was there. I knew for a fact that I was my parents’ son. I had an explanation for why I look the way I look, and it made sense and it was obvious. It didn’t end there though. I didn’t feel Native American. I had no cultural connection to anything “native”. I tried thinking in terms of my personality though. I always had a strong belief in saving the land and respecting the dead. I did vandalize a construction site back in my high school days to preserve farmland. My family did like to decorate the house with Aztec and Mayan statues. Aside from that though, I had about as much personal connection to native culture as Olive Garden does to Italy. The thing about my parents being from Cuba and Colombia is that those were two very violent and turbulent places in the past century. After I tell people where my families hail from, they always asked me with wide-eyes, “Oh have you been there???” Well, I dunno man. If you have any inkling of what’s going on the world you would know the awkward relationship that the United States has had with Cuba, and what it means to be a fucking exile. And the fact that Colombia has seen gang wars for the entirety of my life. So no. I haven’t. When I was a little boy I asked my parents if we would ever visit Colombia or Cuba, but they told me we shouldn’t go back. Colombia was violent, and Cuba’s government watched everyone. My mother was afraid of what would happen if she tried going back. Maybe they wouldn’t let her, or us. Maybe they’d let us through but I wouldn’t even be allowed to return if they knew I was the son of an exile. Worse yet, they might detain my mother. You never know when your family had beef with the government and was told to leave. And what really drives a knife in my heart is hearing people ask that really annoying question. “Have you visited???” As if they were hot and exotic touristy locales. No. Because my parents were forced to flee, because they needed a better life. “Wouldn’t your mom love it if you got married in Cuba? She would get to visit her home!” You don’t get the trauma she has. You don’t understand how much of a toll it would take on her to return home and see all the things she once knew and love gone or tarnished. She received word recently that the farmhouse she grew up in now became a restaurant. The house that my grandfather built by hand. Strangers now sit and eat there. Maybe tourists. The hotel that my great-grandfather used to own now doesn’t belong to us anymore - the government said it was theirs. There is nothing for her to go back to but loss. I felt distraught when I saw a former college classmate who has become an Instagram influencer immediately visit Cuba once travel restrictions were eased. She posted all about it and acted as if she were an expert about it. She used to be a lawyer in Washington D.C. until she decided to “take hold of her life” and “follow her dream” and go to Bali and now lives everyday in tropical paradise. It seemed like some people were pointing out the hypocrisy in her posts about life given the lifestyle she leads, since she felt the need to say something about it. She made a video where she tried to relate to her followers. She said how “it’s still hard” for her, that she “has to work every day”, and meanwhile literally the next fucking day she posts a picture of her having lunch by a waterfall, or napping in her hammock by the beach. But when she visited Cuba, and took pictures and wrote a long post about the country, I just lost it. She met up with some other white Instagram influencer friend, and they took selfies at a café and lectured about the region and--- That’s supposed to be my country, my culture. I’m supposed to feel that way about my people, not you. I went to a wedding recently in July. This black man slapped me on the back after I cracked a joke and said, “Hey, where you from?”

“New Jersey.” He laughed. “No, but really though. Where are you from?” “New Jersey.” “I mean originally. Your background. What are you?” It was the first time I had been asked that question since I got back my DNA test results, and for some reason it hit me so much differently.

I really wanted to say, “I don’t know.” It’s ironic how knowing what I am made me feel more confused, more alone and more isolated than ever before. I am bad at speaking Spanish, and when I try to practice with other Spanish-speaking people they laugh at me and say, “You sound like a gringo” and say they can’t bear to practice with me. I don’t look Latino. I might look Indian or I might look Middle Eastern. With me, everyone assumes things about me, no matter what they are. Some people have the luxury of automatic and unspoken assumptions about their background. Then there’s me. Not quite tan, not quite white. I don’t raise enough suspicion at the airport to warrant a search but at the same time I have to jump over one extra hurdle when they ask me one extra question: “Where are you from?” or “How long are you staying here?” or “What are you here for?” It’s very subtle and deceptively innocent. Nobody else who is pasty white gets asked any questions. They just stamp their passport and wave them away. I’m just ambiguous enough to warrant that extra step - just in case, you know? I envy people so much who can have a clear culture and place to point and say, “I’ve been there. I’ve been where I come from.” I envy people who can recognize all the idiosyncrasies of their family’s region. I don’t belong to any country or culture or identity. There are only a few scant pieces of culture that my parents passed on to me. “Oh, on Christmas we do this” or “We say this once and a while. That was a common expression there.” I envy people with huge families who have not been estranged by government and bloodshed or lost to time. I envy people who can trace their families back to their grandfathers and great-grandfathers and great-great-grandmothers. As a kid I wish I was able to say something like, “My great-granddaddy fought Nazis in the war!” I will never know anyone beyond that one old great-grandmother who no longer recognized anyone’s face. Everyone else is a name on a tombstone, or a whisper in vague oral history. I envy people who can firmly say, “I am *insert nationality here*” Because I always mumble at that phrase. I am. . .a. . . I am from. . . . uh I am. . . I am.

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Shotgun - m. tkachuk

And here is 8.7k of a road trip with Matthew Tkachuk, which honestly, is the real dream. Let me know what you think of it, reblog (I love looking at tags!!) and pop into my inbox if you’d like!

Wine pairing from someone with zero authority on the subject: a nice brut rosé - crisp, fruity, bubbly. Plus, I like the vibes.

It all started with a text. What are the chances you can get the week after next off? Matthew had sent. Madison’s brow furrowed. Doubtful, but I can try. Are you going to tell me what this is about? There was a week left in the season before playoffs started, and with the points spread in the Pacific being what it was, the matchups were all but locked in. It took less than a minute to get a response. No :) I’ll let you know once you get an answer. She got approved for the time off two days later. Her phone rang as soon as she texted him the news. “How do you feel about road trips?”

---

Maddy had met Matthew about a little over a year prior, soon after she moved to Calgary from her hometown of Toronto. Having finished her first week of work as a computer programmer, there was nothing Madison wanted more than to let loose and enjoy a few drinks with her friends. She was sharing a two-bedroom with her best friend Emily, who Maddy would swear up and down was the sunniest, warmest, most kind person she’d ever met. Not like Maddy wasn’t a nice person — she was — but where her idea of relaxing meant going out bouldering, or camping, or a last-minute road trip, Emily was more of a homebody.

But going out meant going out, and so Emily was happily dragged along to a bar downtown; which one, she couldn’t really say. Madison walked up to the bar as soon as they entered, catching the bartender’s eye and ordering a Tom Collins. She tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited, glancing around the room. It was ten o’clock on a Friday night, so it was plenty packed. “What are you getting?” Madison asked Emily curiously.

She held up her Molson. “I’m a woman of simple tastes. Plus, I didn’t feel like waiting around for the bartender to actually make me a drink,” Emily added dryly.

Maddy rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of going out to a bar when you’re just going to be drinking something you could get at the liquor store?” Emily stuck her tongue out. The bartender slid Maddy’s glass over, taking her card and swiping it through quickly. “Thank you!” she chirped, whipping around to head over and snag a free table she had seen a few minutes before.

She never ended up getting to the table. Instead, she ran straight into 6 feet, 2 inches of pure Midwestern beef. “Woah!” Matthew said, steadying her as she watched her glass fall to the floor, thankfully not breaking but absolutely spilling its entire contents over the wood. “You good?”

Madison nodded, grabbing a rag from the bartender. Matthew followed suit, joining her on the floor. “Got a little on my shoes, but it’ll be fine. They won’t stain.”

Matthew nodded, giving a final wipe before taking her rag and handing both back over the counter. “Did me spilling your drink all over you ruin my chances of getting your name?”

“Madison St. Pierre,” she said, laughing and sticking out a hand for him to shake.

“Matthew Tkachuk, but—”

Maddy cut him off. “I probably already know that?” Matthew ducked his head sheepishly. “I may be a long-suffering Leafs fan, but I don’t live under a rock.”

He took a sip of his beer, leaning up against the bar. “Not from around here, eh?”

Maddy shook her head. “Just moved a couple weeks ago. I’m from Toronto, moved here for a job. I do computer programming,” she said by way of explanation.

“A smart girl.”

She tilted her head. “You could say that.”

“Well,” he said, “I feel bad about spilling your drink on you, let me buy you another.”

Maddy laughed. “If you insist. It’s really the least you could do.”

Matthew nodded at the bartender, ordering her another Tom Collins and putting it on his tab. “You and your friend are more than welcome to join us,” he gestured behind him to where the rest of his group was sitting, “we were playing a drinking game and could use a few more players anyway.”

And that was how Matthew met Maddy.

---

Day 1

Ten days later, Madison was hefting her duffel bag into the trunk of her Nissan. It was 7:00 on a Tuesday. Normally on a day off she’d be taking advantage of every possible minute of sleep she could get, but lines to cross the border could be long and they wanted to get to Montana by lunch. She waved goodbye to Emily, hopping in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. Matthew had initially suggested they just get a rental car, since it would save Maddy the 20-hour drive back. But a quick Google search let them know that the chances of finding a company willing to let them drop off a Canadian car in Nevada were slim to none. Plus, Maddy had always liked driving, so it wasn’t really an issue for her. They weren’t going to be alone on the trip; Matthew had invited Elias and Rasmus along. She felt a little bit like a school bus driver, stopping at Elias’s complex to pick him up, then Rasmus’ condo, finally pulling into the underground lot of Matthew’s apartment building. Holding one hand up in greeting, he wheeled his suitcases over to her car.

Maddy unblocked her seatbelt, hopping out to help him. “Why on earth did you need so many bags?” she huffed, turning one on its side and wedging it in between hers and Elias’s.

He shrugged. “I’ve got a bag for the trip, a bag of actual clothes and workout stuff for the series, and the suit bag.” He hung the offending article on a hook. “Did you think I’d be able to set my vanity aside for a whole four days?”

“I should have known that would be too much to ask.”

Matty threw his head back, laughing. “Anyone ever told you how funny you are, Mads?”

“Once or twice, Ratthew,” she said, slamming the door shut.

Maddy hopped back in the driver’s seat, jamming the key in the ignition and turning the engine on. “Next stop, boys, is America.”

---

Well technically, the next stop was a gas station off of Highway 2, about twenty minutes from the border. “Wait, wait,” Matthew said, a conspiratorial grin on his face as Madison took the pump out of the gas tank.

She raised one eyebrow. “What?”

He made grabby hands at her keys. “Let me drive.”

“Why?” Madison asked. “I’ve been driving for like what, two hours? I’m not tired yet.”

“I’m the only American in the car.”

Maddy put the pump back. “And?”

Matthew looked sheepish. “Someone said that the border patrol officers will tell Americans ‘welcome home’ when they’re coming back. It’s never happened to me flying so I wanted to see if it would be different in a car.”

“If it means that much to you?” she said, tossing the keys over the hood of the car. Matthew caught them. Maddy rounded the back of the car before she could see him ducking his head, blushing.

They arrived at the Piegan/Carway crossing shortly after. With exactly zero cars in front of them, Matthew pulled straight up to the booth.

“Purpose of your visit?” the officer said, looking into the driver’s side.

“Three of us play hockey, we’re road tripping down to Las Vegas before our playoff series starts in a few days,” Matty answered easily.

He nodded. “And how long will you be in the States for?”

It was clear either this man had never watched a series of professional sports in his life, or he was just following a standard script. “Depends?” Matthew said, fully aware of how questionable that sounded.

Maddy piped up from the passenger seat. “I’m driving the car back, so I’ll be back in eight days.”

“Right,” Matthew nodded, “But this trip to the US, we’ll be back in seven days. We’re flying back on the team plane, so it’s not a land crossing.” He decided to forego mentioning that, barring a sweep, they’d be back again in two weeks.

The poor officer looked bewildered. “Team plane?”

Matty shrugged his shoulders. “We play for the Calgary Flames, the team charters a plane to fly us from Calgary to wherever we’re playing and back. We decided to take the scenic route this time.”

“Okay,” he said, but Madison still wasn’t convinced he actually understood what Matty was saying. If the border officer thought anything of the American, Canadian, and Swedish passports he was handed, he didn’t say anything. Giving a cursory glance, he handed them back. “Welcome back,” he nodded to Matthew, waving the car through the gate. Matthew pumped his fist.

---

An hour later, Matthew pulled into a dirt parking lot on the edge of Glacier National Park. “WE MADE IT!” he exclaimed, putting the car in park and throwing his hands up.

“We drove three hours,” Elias said from the back seat.

“And?” Matty challenged, opening the door.

Maddy grabbed her backpack, stuffed with sandwiches and snacks that they had gotten on their way in. “If you guys brought hiking boots or good tennis shoes, now’s the time,” she said, lacing up her own boots. “There’s a loop around here that’s a little under four miles long, doesn’t sound like it’s too difficult but there is some elevation climb, so better safe than sorry.” People typically didn’t peg her for it, but Maddy was a very outdoorsy person at heart. She had taken up rock climbing in high school, and was a regular at the bouldering gyms back in Toronto until she moved. She’d found a climbing gym she liked well enough in Calgary, but with Banff just over an hour away from the city, the park had become her go-to for climbing and hiking. Matty had come with her on more than one occasion, and had surprised her with a long weekend camping for her birthday in March. The snow hadn’t all melted yet, and waking up to the powder-dusted fir trees outside of their tent had been one of the most beautiful sights of her life.

“Everyone’s got a full water bottle?” she asked, tying up her hair. The last thing anyone wanted was to get heatstroke in one of the most remote parts of the park with only one phone that could even connect to an American cell tower.

The group started off at a leisurely pace, wandering off-trail to check out anything and everything that caught their interest. The edge of the St. Mary Valley served as the perfect backdrop for lunch, Maddy pulling the sandwiches out from her bag and doling them out. “Oh thank God, I’m starving,” Elias said, grabbing his food from Maddy practically before she even had it in her hand.

“Did you not have breakfast?” she asked incredulously.

He nodded. “I did, but I’m still hungry. Should have brought snacks.” Off to his side, Matty snickered.

Day 2

Elias had volunteered to take over from Matthew to drive through the night, switching off sometime around sunrise with Rasmus. “I 100% have a crick in my neck,” Maddy grimaced, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and checking her phone.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Matthew smiled. Maddy groaned, leaning into his side. Almost instinctively, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle, taking a few gulps before setting it back down on the floor of the car, where it promptly rolled away.

“Who do I have to blow to get a decent cup of coffee around here?” Maddy groaned. Matthew almost choked on his water. He had to get his mind off of the idea of Maddy blowing anything or he was about to have an issue. He pulled out his phone, jumping on Google maps.

“There’s a little coffee shop a few miles ahead, off of the Spruce Drive exit?” he asked tentatively.

She yawned. “As long as they sell caffeine, I’m game.” They did indeed sell caffeine, and after inhaling two cappuchinos and a small mountain of pastries later, Maddy hopped back behind the wheel. “You sure bear claws and muffins are on the meal plan, boys?” she asked, a smile playing on the corner of her lips.

Rasmus waved her off. “It’s not like you’re going to rat us out, are you?”

She shrugged, wiggling her phone in her hand as she pulled up at a stoplight. “Bold of you to assume I don’t have Coach’s number in my phone.”

Matty plucked her phone from her hand, placing it back by the center console. “Be that as it may, sweet Madison, you neglect to remember that I’m the only one with coverage in the U.S.” He might not strike most people as a particularly sentimental person, but Matthew loved his family, and decided that the extra charge was well worth being able to call his parents and sister whenever he was missing them.

She stuck her tongue out at Matthew. “You ruin all of my fun, you know that?” All he did was grin. The drive to Mesa Falls wasn’t long at all, they had just finished their food — Matty popping bites of muffin into Madison’s mouth as she drove — when she pulled over to the curb by the sign. Maddy threw the boys’ backpacks to them, pointing to the single bathroom stall in the tiny rest area. “Go change, I’ll use the car.”

“Why can’t we have the car?” Matthew complained.

She looked at him. “Three full-grown men, all over six feet, in one car. I know you see each other’s dicks all day in the locker room, but I’d really rather not have that in my car. Think.”

Matty made an “o” with his mouth. “Gotcha.”

Swim trunks were much easier to get on than a wrap bikini, Madison was finding, and the boys were finished changing well before she was done figuring out her top. She bit her lip, poking her head out of the door. “Matty?”

He turned around, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Could you help me tie this?” she asked, gesturing to the halter top. “I think it’s stuck or something.”

Matthew swallowed hard, his eyes widening as he tried to stutter through a sentence. “Uh, yeah. I can do that. For sure,” he said, shuffling over to the car. He gently untwisted the straps, gathering them into a bow at the base of her neck and trying very, very hard to not think about how soft her skin felt underneath his fingers. This was one of his best friends. And best friends weren’t supposed to think about that kind of stuff. Right?

Behind them, Elias and Rasmus shared a glance. They had expected something was going on between them, really ever since the party in November, but this was something new. They had never seen Matthew gone this far for a girl before. And they liked this side of him.

“Thanks,” she said, squeezing his shoulder before disappearing back into the car to throw on a coverup. “How long is the walk to the actual waterfalls?”

“Not long,” Elias responded. “Ten minutes or so?” It was an easy walk to the falls, which were mercifully empty when they got there. They kicked off their sandals, leaving the bags under a nearby bush. Matthew knew Madison was pretty. She wasn’t a nun and he wasn’t a saint; she had seen him shirtless more times than he could count and he had seen her come out of his guest room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt of his after she stayed the night. His thoughts hadn’t exactly been innocent. But as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, leaving her clad only in that damn red bikini, he was convinced he’d never seen a more gorgeous sight.

She turned around just as Matthew tore his eyes away, looking mischievously at him. “Last one in?” They sprinted to the water. Matty let her win.

---

About half of their stops had been planned in advance; the others were pulled from websites or Google suggestions or whatever their waitress’ recommendation was for a local must-see. The Idaho Potato Museum fell into the latter category. Rasmus had floated the idea shortly after they had left Mesa Falls, and seeing as how nobody had anything better to suggest, they ran with it.

“Free taters for out of staters,” Matthew said, reading off of the pamphlet they had been handed at the welcome desk.

“Will they give me extra since I’m Canadian?” Madison wondered aloud. “For all intents and purposes they think you live in Missouri, Matty.” The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, she didn’t even think twice.

He passed the paper to her, the tips of their fingers barely brushing together, but Matthew could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t get greedy, Mads.” They walked down a dimly-lit hallway lined with black-and-white photos.

“Did you know that the first potatoes grown in the United States were planted in Londonderry, New Hampshire, by Scotch-Irish immigrants?” Elias read off of a placard, his voice sounding like a disinterested radio announcer.

Maddy shook her head. “I didn’t, thank you so much for imparting on me this most important knowledge, Elias.”

“My pleasure,” he replied.

“Did you know that you could survive off of a diet of only potatoes and butter?” Rasmus chimed in, reading another sign.

“Really?” Matthew asked, leaning in to read. He turned to Madison a moment later. “Really, apparently.”

Half an hour of wandering later, Matthew and Madison had stumbled into the “artifacts” portion of the museum. “What kind of artifacts does a potato museum have?” Maddy asked, looking supremely confused.

Matthew wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Why don’t we see?” For some reason, he decided it would be a good idea to hold his hand out for her. And for some reason, Maddy took it.

The “artifacts” turned out to consist of some old farm tools, dusty burlap sacks, and the world’s largest potato chip. Elias and Ramsus were on the other side of the museum, leaving Matthew and Madison to drift through alone. “Crisp, actually,” Matthew said, reading the card under the glass case. “Because I guess they’re worried about people stealing it?”

“There’s a difference?”

He shrugged. “Apparently it’s only a chip if it’s a slice of potato. This was made from dehydrated potato flakes, or something like that.” Maddy wasn’t sure if it was the sepia-tinted lighting, or the lingering memory of how Matty’s fingertips burned like fire against her back as he tied her bikini, or if there was something particularly romantic about dehydrated potato flakes, but they were alone in the room and suddenly she was looking at him a little bit differently. Matthew looked at her, gaze soft as his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly down towards her lips. Her lips. His body leaned in, and just as she closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers, wondering if they were really going to do this in the middle of the Idaho fucking Potato Museum—

“We were wondering where you guys had gone off to!” Elias’s Swedish accent cut through the silence. Matthew threw his head back, silently cursing his teammate’s timing. If Elias and Rasmus realized anything was off, they didn’t say. “The lady at the front said it’s closing in ten minutes, so we thought we should head out and get something to eat.”

Maddy nodded in agreement, her cheeks burning. “Sounds good. I could go for some food.” They made their way back outside, Matthew settling behind the wheel as he steered the car back onto the highway. He tried to shake the almost-kiss from his mind, but the more he tried to forget it, the more the memory stuck.

Elias looked down at his phone. “Yelp says there’s an Indian place coming up on the left if that sounds good to you guys,” he said, shaking Matthew from his thoughts.

Maddy scrunched her nose. “All due respect, I don’t trust this town to make good Indian food. Potatoes, burgers, meat, sure. I buy it. But I haven’t seen a single person of color since we left Glacier.”

“Fair.”

The burgers were good; nothing to write home about, but Maddy was honestly thrilled to eat something that didn’t come out of a bag. The plan had originally been to drive through the night again to reach Salt Lake City by the early morning, but Maddy made it clear her back didn’t take too well to sleeping in the car, and the others agreed. “Rasmus, mind finding a hotel nearby? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just somewhere not too far off of the freeway,” Madison asked. He nodded, pulling out his phone. They had gotten tired of passing around Matthew’s phone anytime they were out of Wifi range, so after a little complaining and one of Maddy’s puppy-dog eye looks, he finally relented and turned his hotspot on.

“There’s a Holiday Inn up off of the next exit if that sounds good to you guys,” Rasmus said. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the Post Malone song that Matty had plugged in. They switched the aux every few hours.

“Yeah, works for me.” Madison hummed her agreement; Matty nodded. Rasmus flicked on the blinkers, gently cruising down the offramp, pulling into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn about half a mile down the road.

Madison bit the inside of her cheek. “They’re going to have rooms available, yeah?”

“Mads, it’s May in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. I don’t exactly think they’ve got business lining up out the door.” Matty said, looking at her from the side as they walked into the hotel lobby.

The whole trip was Matthew’s idea, so he insisted on footing the bill, handing his credit card and license over to the receptionist. Maddy snickered behind her hand. Matthew turned back to look at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. “Something you’d like to share with the class, Madison?”

“Missouri licenses look weird,” she commented.

“And Alberta’s any better?”

She scrunched her nose. “We have a dinosaur on ours. Beat that.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” Matty said, the corner of his lip twitching as he thanked the receptionist, tucking the cards back into his wallet. She handed over the room keys, Matthew passing two to Rasmus and Elias and one to Maddy. “I had us together, if you don’t mind.”

Madison shook her head. “Fine with me.” It wasn’t unusual for her to stay over at Matthew’s apartment, either after going out or when their movie nights ran a little long and she woke up to Matty tucking her into the bed in his guest room. She had a toothbrush in his bathroom, a change of clothes in the dresser. She had offered to take her stuff back a few months ago, not wanting any girl he might bring over to get the wrong idea. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he had said when she asked, waving her off. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t brought any girl home — that she knew about — since sometime around the beginning of the year.

They waved goodbye to Rasmus and Elias, promising to wake up bright and early to get the first crack at the breakfast buffet when it opened at 7. Matty swiped his card, holding the door open when the light turned green and the knob twisted. “After you, m’lady.”

“Why thank you, good sir,” Maddy giggled, ducking under his arm into the entryway. She stopped at the end of the hall, eyes flickering into the room.

Matthew stopped behind her. “What’s up?”

“There’s only one bed.”

His head jerked around the corner, not like he doubted her word or anything, but he needed to see it for himself. There was only one bed. One big bed, one very comfortable-looking bed, but one bed. Matty dropped his bag on the floor. “Uh...D’you want me to call down? I can see if they’ve got another room if that would make you more comfortable.”

Madison pursed her lips for a second before shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. We’re adults, we can share a bed without burning the house down.” It wasn’t like Maddy was lying for Matthew’s sake; she really was fine with it. Maybe a little too fine. But they had slept together — in the innocent sense of the word — before, and everything had turned out okay. His arm draped over her shoulder as she cuddled into his shoulder on a late night, her legs tangled in his when some of his friends from St. Louis were visiting for the weekend and took the guest room. He had offered to take the couch that night, but Maddy didn’t want to relegate him to a night of back cramps and drafty breezes, especially when he had an early practice the next day. Nobody ever made it weird, so it wasn’t weird.

She took her bundle of clothes into the shower, relishing in the feeling of hot water raining down on her aching muscles. Maddy was loving the trip, genuinely, but being in a car for twelve hours out of the day took something out of a person. Slipping into an old college t-shirt, Madison thought for a moment about putting on a pair of sweats. It wasn’t particularly cold — the opposite, in fact — but she didn’t know if it would make Matthew feel weird if she wasn’t wearing pants. Fuck it, she thought, pulling up her boyshorts. If he had an issue with it, it was his problem. Throwing her hair up in a towel to dry, she turned the doorknob, poking her head out the door. “Shower’s open if you wanted to hop in,” she said.

Matty nodded, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I shouldn’t be too long, why don’t you find something for us to watch?” he asked, tossing her the remote. It wasn’t quite nine o’clock, and while she was tired, Maddy knew if she tried to go to sleep she’d wake up well before dawn, and that wasn’t something anyone wanted. Madison climbed up onto the bed, tucking her feet underneath her and grabbed the channel guide. True to his word, Matthew was in and out in under ten minutes, rubbing his hair with a towel as he walked out. Athletic shorts. Shirtless. Maddy couldn’t help but give him the once-over, having to jerk her eyes back up to his face the moment she realized what she was doing. Matthew met her eyes, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “I can put a shirt on if you’d like…”

“No! You’re good,” Maddy replied, maybe a little too quickly to avoid suspicion.

He ducked back into the bathroom, throwing the towel over the shower curtain. “So, what did you settle on?”

She looked back at the TV. “Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives?”

Matty jumped onto the bed. “Guy Fieri. What a legend. Awesome. Where’s he going?”

Three and a half episodes later, it was almost eleven, and Madison’s eyes were starting to droop. Sometime midway through the second episode, when Guy was visiting an Asian fusion restaurant in Colorado, her head had drifted onto Matthew’s shoulder, where it had stayed ever since. His arm wrapped loosely around her, Matty brought his hand up to brush away a stray piece of hair that had drifted into her face. “Getting sleepy, Mads?”

She yawned, nodding and trying to push herself up. “‘M looking forward to a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”

Matthew laughed softly. “Let’s get you in bed, then.” He threw back the comforter, Madison crawling under, and reached over to the nightstand, turning off the lamps and TV. “Give me your phone,” he said.

“Why?” Maddy asked, her brow furrowing.

“You always forget to charge it overnight, and I don’t want you to be grumpy when it dies at 10 AM.” She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a concession, handing over her iPhone. Matty plugged it in, clambering beneath the sheets. “Sweet dreams, Mads. Good night.”

“Night, Matty.”

Day 3

The first thing Madison noticed when she woke up was the warm, unfamiliar weight slung around her waist. It took her a moment to realize that it was Matty’s arm, who hadn’t woken up yet. For some reason that she couldn’t quite identify, or maybe didn’t want to confront quite yet, it wasn’t unwelcome at all, and she savored the last few minutes of physical closeness before he woke up. And he did, wake up, that is. His cheeks reddened as he opened his eyes, pulling his arm away to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

Maddy ducked her head. “Nothing to be sorry about. I didn’t mind.”

Matthew yawned. “What time is it?”

“Uh, just before seven,” she said, rolling over to look at the alarm clock. “I’d love to stay in bed a little longer, but we did promise the boys we’d meet them down at breakfast soon.”

He nodded, making a very concerted effort to not read into her statements any more than he absolutely had to. “Yeah, good idea,” he said, tossing the covers off and walking into the bathroom. “I’ll sit on you if you’re not up by the time I get back out there.” Maddy took the opportunity to change, threading a belt through her jeans and half-tucking a t-shirt. “I like the look,” he said when he walked out, as Maddy was twisting her hair up into a bun. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Matthew to compliment her; she had accompanied him to more than one charity event for the Flames as his date, but she had always been dressed up. Dress, heels, makeup that she probably stressed way too much over. Dressed to the nines, never in jeans and a t-shirt before. But she didn’t really notice, the compliment meaning just as much to her as if she’d been in a floor-length gown.

“Thanks,” she said, stuffing her clothes from the night before back into her duffel. “I packed the rest of your bag while you were in there, figured I might as well.”

It was Matty’s turn to thank her, squeezing her hand appreciatively before giving the room a quick look. “We didn’t forget anything, then?”

Madison laughed. “We really didn’t stay long enough to unpack, but yeah, we’ve got everything, don’t worry.”

---

Elias had volunteered to do the drive down to Salt Lake City. Matthew’s inner six-year-old had returned, insisting that the group stop at a dinosaur park in a rural part of Utah. What “dinosaur park” meant, Madison wasn’t sure, but it made Matty happy, so she didn’t fight it.

The museum was mostly outdoors, with life-sized dinosaur models dotting the massive field. “Were you much into dinosaurs as a kid?” Matthew asked Madison.

“Kind of?” she replied noncommittally. “I always loved learning about them, but never had like a ‘dinosaur phase’ like David or Cody,” she said, referring to her older brothers. “My family used to go to the Canadian Museum of Nature a ton when I was a kid, since it was only a few hours away in Ottawa, and it has like a billion fossils in it.”

“Which was your favorite?”

“Pachycephalosaurus,” she said easily.

Matthew blinked. “Pachycephalo-what?” he asked in confusion. He thought he knew all of them?

Maddy laughed. “Pachycephalosaurus. They had these really spiny heads. But secretly, I think I was a little bit of a teacher’s pet who just liked saying the name. Pretty sure they were actually native to Alberta?” she added. “What about you?”

“Well, now I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Oh, come on,” Madison said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Promise I won’t make fun of you.”

“Fine, fine,” Matty gave in, “it was the brachiosaurus.”

“How come?” she asked curiously.

“I liked the long necks.”

They spent another hour or so at the park, Matty grabbing a keychain on the way out. “They didn’t have a brachiosaurus,” he muttered, half-angry, picking up a T-rex one instead. It wasn’t a long drive to the actual Great Salt Lake, and for some reason, they had trusted Elias with the aux. Much to Maddy’s chagrin, he didn’t end up playing ABBA, and they were instead led to cruise down I-15 to the dulcet tones of J.S. Bach.

Madison looked down at her phone. “Anyone want to go see the Joseph Smith sphinx?”

“Joseph Smith?” Rasmus questioned.

“Sphinx?” asked Elias.

Matthew laughed. “You know those Egyptian statues of like the cat ladies? Where they have cat bodies but the faces of people?”

“Joseph Smith was the founder of the Mormon church,” Madison explained. “Well, technically it’s called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but—”

“Know-it-all,” Matty said in a sing-song voice. Madison shot a glare at him from the back seat.

“But most people still call them Mormons. And apparently they made him into a sphinx.”

Elias looked at her, still dumbfounded. “But why?”

Maddy shrugged. “Honestly? Beats me.” The weather had dropped too much by the time they had reached the lake to make swimming very practical, so the four of them settled for taking off their shoes, rolling up pants, and wading into the shoreline.

Matthew bent down, picking up a chipped white rock from the ground, the water just lapping at his fingers. He handed it to Madison. “For you.”

She took it gently, running her hands over the jagged surface. “Aren’t you not allowed to take anything from a national park?”

He winked. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” They stopped at a Chipotle just as the sun was beginning to set, Matthew taking over driving duties from Rasmus. The plan was to drive for another two hours or so, stopping somewhere in southern Utah for the night to spare themselves from another night spent in her Nissan.

They drove in silence for a while, Elias and Rasmus drifting to sleep in the back row, before a road sign caught Matty’s eyes and he spoke. “I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon, you know,” he said as they continued down I-15.

Maddy looked over at him. “Do you want to go?” She didn’t know where the suggestion came from, but it was out of her mouth before she could take it back, and after a moment, she realized that she didn’t even want to.

His eyebrows raised as he glanced over at her before turning back to the road, the car’s headlights the only thing in sight. “You mean it?”

Madison shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” She quickly popped the directions into her phone. “It’s only a few hours out of the way, if we drive through the night instead of stopping somewhere we should have more than enough time.”

“But didn’t you say sleeping in the car made your back hurt?” Matty asked curiously.

She smiled softly. “I don’t mind, really. I’ll drive. You’re more important.” Honestly, Maddy surprised herself with her boldness. She wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but it hadn’t escaped her that the dynamic between her and Matthew had changed in the past few weeks and was about to come to a boil. Matty wasn’t exactly the type of guy Madison expected to have a lot of friends who were girls. And a part of her hated that, hated that because of his reputation she automatically assumed when they became friends that all he wanted to do was get in her pants. There had only been one time in their entire year of friendship when they’d even done so much as kissed, and it wasn’t exactly what you’d consider normal circumstances.

---

It was November of the previous year, about six months after Matthew and Madison had met. Matthew had been even more in his head than normal; he hadn’t scored a single point since midway through their East Coast road trip over two weeks ago, and the disappointment was really starting to rag on him. It might not have been something he outwardly showed all that much, but those who knew him knew that Matthew was actually a deeply sensitive person, who took pride in his wins and carried losses with him well after they had faded from the minds of the rest of the hockey world.

When it had gotten to the point where his frustration was starting to affect his game, Maddy knew it was time to do something. “You’re so much more than your stats, Matty,” she had said, calling him right before she left for the Saddledome. “I know you take this personally, and you feel like you’re letting down the team, but that’s bullshit and somewhere deep down, I know you agree.” Matthew grumbled something that might have been an agreement. “Your team trusts you, they trust you with the puck and with the A, and you’re never going to disappoint them as long as you’re giving it your all. And if you’re the Matthew Tkachuk I know, there’s never a time when you don’t. And win or lose tonight, there’s nothing you could do to change the fact that your family loves you, and your friends love you, and I love you too. Okay?” Clearly, something in her little pep talk had flipped a switch in Matty, because he returned in spectacular form that night, scoring a hat trick in a roaring 5-1 win over the Coyotes. And he didn’t throw a single punch all game.

A good game without a travel day following usually calls for going out, and a great game with your best friend scoring a hat trick definitely calls for going out, so she dragged Emily along to the bar that Matthew had told her to meet the team at. Matthew had pulled her into a hug the moment she arrived, kissing her cheek and trying his damndest not to spill the beer in his hand on her shoes. An hour and a half into the night, Madison was four drinks in, well and truly drunk, and Emily had wandered off and appeared to be flirting with an extremely oblivious Noah Hanifin.

“How are you doing, Mads?” Matthew asked, coming up from behind her barstool and resting his hand gently on the small of her back.

She looked back at him, a goofy smile on her face, and took another sip of her drink. “I’m good, I’m realllly good,” she giggled. “Did I ever get a chance to tell you how good you were tonight?” Matthew shook his head, very poorly concealing a laugh. He had had more than one beer, sure, but he was nowhere near as gone as Madison. “Because you were really good. A-ma-zing,” she added, punctuating each syllable. Her eyes softened as she leaned in. “I know the points drought was starting to weigh on you, and I’m really glad you were able to do this for yourself. I’m always proud of you, Matty, but I was a little extra proud of you tonight. People sometimes write you off as just another good player without any real subsistence,” she paused, correcting herself, “substance, off the ice, but I know the real you, and the real you is even more incredible than the you that plays hockey. It’s my favorite thing to see.”

“It is?” Matthew asked softly, leaning into the hand that had begun to caress his cheek a little bit imprecisely, but that somehow communicated every kind of unsaid word between them.

Madison nodded, touching his forehead to hers, and then she tilted in. And then she kissed him. Her lips met his, and she tasted like lime and spearmint chewing gum and his favorite kind of tequila. Her lips met his, and it seemed like the room stood still; he barely heard his teammates’ wolf-whistles or Emily’s elated gasp in the background. Her lips met his, and he drank in every second of the kiss until she pulled away.

---

Maddy hadn’t been drunk enough to black out that night, and she came to the next morning with a roaring headache and the pang of regret in her heart. She thought it was shame at her behavior, embarrassment that she could act so impulsively, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized. The fact that she kissed Matthew wasn’t the issue, not to her, at least. It was the fact that she was drunk in a bar after a hockey game and that wasn’t how she wanted it to happen. She pushed her feelings to the side, trying desperately to focus on work and supporting Matty through the rest of the season, but they always tended to flare up when they were least welcome. Like at the Idaho Potato Museum.

Which of course meant that Matthew would choose this moment, driving down I-15 with two sleeping Swedish hockey players in the backseat, to bring it up. “I remember when you kissed me, you know,” Matty said softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over his lips, like if he tried hard enough he could remember what it felt like to have Maddy’s pressed against his.

Madison froze, which isn’t exactly what you’re supposed to do when you’re driving. She thought he had forgotten. He had never brought it up, so she really had no reason to believe he would have remembered. “You do?” she asked, swallowing.

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye. “Mhm. I hadn’t thought about it in a couple weeks, but back in Idaho, in front of the World’s Largest Potato Crisp…” He let out an airy chuckle.

Maddy breathed in sharply. So she hadn’t imagined that. Her fingers tapped nervously against the faux leather of the steering wheel. “Yeah…” She trailed off nervously. “I was drunk.”

“Oh, you were hammered,” Matthew agreed. “But do you regret it?”

There it was, the million-dollar question that she somehow actually had the answer to. A long moment passed before she answered, figuring it would be best to just rip the band-aid off. Worst case, Matty would hate her and she’d only be stuck in a car with him for ten-odd more hours. No big deal. “No,” she whispered, voice so small he almost didn’t hear it.

“I’m glad, because I don’t either,” Matty said. Madison hazarded a glance to her side; he looked almost nervous, and nervous wasn’t a look Matthew Tkachuk did all that often. “I had wanted to for a few months, but it always seemed like it was never the right time, or something interrupted us, or I didn’t know how you felt about me. But you made the first move, and I’m glad you did.”

“How come?”

He sighed. “I don’t know how long I would have waited to do something, or if I ever would have done anything. I feel like sometimes…,” he searched for the right words, “the confidence that I have on the ice can be misleading. Hockey is about reflexes and instincts and knowing the game, but it’s also thinking three steps ahead, anticipating every possible outcome and preparing for them. And that’s the part that I carry off the ice. I think I was worried if I ever brought it up with you, if I ever mentioned that I so much as remembered the kiss, you might clam up and tell me it was a stupid, drunken mistake, and I don’t know what I’d do if you said that. Because I don’t know how you feel about me, not like that”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to force the words out, as scared as she was about admitting them. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Matthew had never seen Madison like this before, unsure and worried and downright vulnerable, and it meant so much to him that she was letting him see her like that.

Matthew let out a watery laugh. “Only pretty sure? Hurts my ego a little bit.” Maddy opened her mouth, but he waved her off. “Because I’m definitely sure I’m in love with you.” This wasn’t ever how she imagined telling him, and it wasn’t how Matty thought he’d tell her, on a freeway in Southern Utah on their way to the Grand Canyon, but sometimes life throws unexpected things at you and you have to roll with the punches.

“When did you know?” Madison asked curiously.

Matthew bit his lip. “Few months ago? I knew I liked you as more than a friend probably since you kissed me, but it was after that game against Vancouver that I really understood I had fallen in love with you.” Maddy remembered the game. It had gone terribly for the Flames, a 4-0 shutout with more than one fight and the bench racking up penalty minutes. What she didn’t know was what made that one special. Matthew looked over at her, answering her unspoken question. “Why that one?” She nodded. “I think it’s because it was such a shitty game. I wouldn’t have blamed you at all if you had just skipped out after the end of the third, I know I can be hard to deal with after a loss. But you didn’t leave, you stayed. I remember seeing you outside the tunnel, swallowed by my jersey because it’s three sizes too big for you and you refuse to let me buy you another—”

“I don’t want another because it’s yours, and I love it,” Maddy said quietly.

Matthew smiled. “Your call. But when I turned the corner and saw you, I realized three things at the exact same time. You were there for me when you didn’t have to be, and I wanted to be able to do the same thing for you. Second, you’re who I wanted to come home to. And last,” he gathered his thoughts, “I realized if I never saw another girl in my jersey for the rest of my life, that would be fine with me.”

“I think I knew when you introduced me to your family, when you flew me down for the All-Star break?” He nodded in recognition. “Just seeing you with them, how much you love your parents and adore Taryn. You even managed to not chirp Brady for a whole dinner.”

“My mom threatened me.”

Madison laughed. “Even so. It just gave me a whole new side to you. I had seen you with your friends, and with the boys, and with me, but it wasn’t the same. How deeply you cared about making sure I fit in with them, and had fun, and felt included. It was the last piece of the puzzle, really.” Her hand rested on the center console after she downshifted.

“So, are we going to do this? Do you want to do this, Mads?” Matty asked, wrapping his fingertips gently around her free hand.

Flipping her hand around, she interlaced her fingers with his. “I’m all in if you are.”

Matthew bent down, kissing their hands. “I’ve been all in since the moment I met you.” He glanced behind him to the backseat, where Elias and Rasmus were still fast asleep. “What do you think they’re going to say when they wake up?”

“I’m not sure,” Madison said, laughing. “Probably tell us it’s about time. Pass me my phone, will you?” Matthew pulled out her phone from where it was charging on the passenger side.

“What do you need to look up?” he asked curiously as she pulled off of the freeway and into a gas station; the directions were already programmed into the car’s navigation system.

Maddy gave a coy smile, gently putting the car into park. “I’ve got to text the girl’s chat, tell them they’ve got to make me a jacket. They’re going to go wild.”

Day 4

The chat did go wild, even more so after she sent a picture of her kissing Matty’s cheek. After about a half-dozen “we called its” and a promise for her jacket to be ready by the first home game of the series, she turned her phone off, leaning over to ruffle Matthew’s hair; he had taken over driving sometime around four o’clock. “I like that I can just do this now,” she mused, playing with his curls as they crossed the border into Arizona.

“Please, no PDA in front of the children,” he said playfully, gesturing to the backseat. Elias flipped him off.

The entrance to the Grand Canyon was only an hour past the state line, and there were more than a few cafés to grab a quick breakfast at. Most of the day was spent walking around the vast expanse of the park, marvelling at its natural grandeur, and taking more than a few incredibly aesthetically pleasing Instagram pictures. A few minutes before they had to pack up and leave for the last leg of the drive, they had hiked over to the South Rim.

Matty leaned on the barriers overlooking the canyon. “It’s so big.”

Rasmus snickered from behind them. “Duh, Tkachuk. That’s why they call it grand.”

He ducked his head, blushing. “Yeah, I mean, obviously. But it’s just kind of surreal, you know?” Madison nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and if either of them had turned around they would have seen Rasmus and Elias sharing a very “I-told-you-so” look. “Kind of reminds us how small we are in the grand scheme of things.”

It seemed like only a few minutes later that they were pulling into Las Vegas, Rasmus steering the car into the underground lot of the team hotel. None of the boys were expected at practice until the next morning, and they had decided before leaving that the easiest thing to do would just be to book the rooms for the one night.

“Anyone feeling up to going out?” Maddy asked as they walked down the hallway to their adjoining rooms. “I found a tiki bar a couple blocks away, great Yelp reviews.”

“Sounds good,” Rasmus said. Elias nodded.

“I’m in,” Matthew added, unlocking the door. “Meet out here in ten?”

The break allowed Madison to get a much-needed change of clothes while Matthew hopped in for a quick shower, emerging in a T-shirt and very, very nice-looking pair of black jeans. Maddy bit her lip, looking him up and down. “You like what you see?” Matthew asked, expression cocky.

She shrugged. “I don’t have to hide it now.” Madison slipped her phone into her back pocket, grabbing her jacket from where it was slung over the lounge chair. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said, poking his head out the door. “Boys are already out.”

The walk to the bar couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it felt like twenty in the best way possible. She was holding hands with Matty, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the top of her hand, the twinkling lights of dozens of Vegas casinos in their view. Two and a half mai tais and an hour later, the group sat at a table in the corner as Maddy giggled, retelling a particularly embarrassing moment on her high school volleyball team when she tried to make a dive that instead ended up with a ten minute pause in gameplay and the worst nosebleed of her life. She finished the story to raucous laughter, leaning into Matthew’s side. He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What is it, Matty?” she asked, pulling away to look at him.

Eyes soft, he tucked a piece of her hair back behind her ear before speaking. “Just thanking God I invited you on the trip. And for the Idaho Potato Museum.”

Madison laughed, the sound like music as it reached his ears. “We should write them. Thank them for helping to get us together. Maybe they’d give us season tickets.”

“Who needs season tickets when I have you?” Matty chuckled, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Sure, Madison was a few drinks in when she kissed him. And sure, it wasn’t like Matty was exactly sober either. But this kiss was different. This kiss was the start of everything.

#hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #matthew tkachuk #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey writing #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl writing #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk writing #rat king

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detectivejay-chuckles-halstead · 4 years

Text

Marry Me // Jay Halstead x Reader

Description: Jay falls for Kelly Severide’s sister

Words: 1891

Requested: Yes

Warnings: None. Just fluff

Pairings: Jay Halstead x Severide!Reader

A/N: Here’s some much needed fluff after all the angst I’ve been writing. Planning on doing a few more fluff/smut pieces before going back into the dark hole of angst.

Jay had been dating you for close to three years at that point, the happiest he’d been. It had been tough when Erin had left, feeling as if he wouldn’t ever move on. He was going to marry that girl, he was sure of it. Until she left without a word. An empty apartment. Unreturned phone calls. He didn’t think he’d move on.

He’d met you at Molly’s one night, Kelly Severide’s arm slung over your shoulder as you threw back shots with him. When his eyes met yours -- looking back -- he knew it was an instant connection. At the time, no. He didn’t know you, didn’t want to know you. But slowly, you’d broken his walls down, wormed your way into your life.

He’d decided to go out on his own one night, not wanting to have to deal with the company of his friends. It was rough without Erin, finding his footing again. His brilliant idea was to steer clear of the usual haunts, lowering the risk of running into somebody he knew. Leaning against the bar and a bustling club, speakers sending vibrations through his body. It was a nice distraction. An even nicer one was when somebody’s hand came down on his lower back, pulling his attention to familiar eyes.

“Hey, stranger,” you called out, voice fighting with the music as you smiled at him. He returned the gesture, ordering another round of shots for the both of you.

“Severide let you out, huh?” he asked, mostly joking. He wasn’t about to start flirting with Severide’s girl. With all the past beef between Intelligence and 51, he knew better than that.

“What?” you asked, brow furrowed for a moment before accepting the shot he slid to you.

“Well, I mean, you and Kelly are a thing, right?” he clarified, the two of you downing the burning liquid simultaneously before you laughed.

“Oh, god no!” you assured him, hand holding onto his bicep for support. “No! Kelly…” It was difficult for you to speak between laughs. “Kelly is my brother, Jay!” After knowing you for a few months at that point, he’d never made the connection.

“Oh!” You just nodded with a smile. “Well, in that case. Care to dance?”

-----

“We have to tell him eventually, Jay,” you insisted. Since the night at the bar, the two of you had been practically inseparable, falling into bed with each other more nights than not. For nearly three months. And Kelly hadn’t caught on. Not like it mattered, though. You kept telling Jay that, but he was convinced Severide was going to straight up murder him, and get help hiding the body. You were his little sister after all.

“We can tell him when he’s on his deathbed,” Jay countered, getting you to roll your eyes as your head rested on his chest. This was his favorite spot. Just you and him in bed, relaxed, his fingers combing through your hair.

“I don’t like being the bad cop,” you reminded him, looking up at him through your lashes with a smirk. “But we need to tell him. Yes, he’s my brother. And yes, I know there’s been some tension in the past between the firehouse and your department. But that was years ago, Jay. And I don’t want to keep you a secret forever. I would like to actually, you know, go out with my boyfriend sometimes.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” He’d been hesitant on defining anything with you, scared of what it would mean. However, as soon as you’d said it, it just felt right with him. He kissed you softly, your hand cupping his cheek before pulling away.

“I invited him over to my place tomorrow for dinner. If you want to keep being my boyfriend, you will show up, looking nice, and we will tell Kelly together.” He let out an exasperated sigh before nodding in agreement, kissing you again.

-----

“Hey, babe, sorry I’m late,” he called out, letting himself in. He was hoping to get there before Kelly to try and talk you out of your plan, knowing he was cutting it close. Plus, you’d wanted him to get there an hour earlier than your brother to smooth out the details and any concerns.

“Babe, huh, Halstead?” a male voice asked. Looking over, he saw Kelly standing in your kitchen as you set the table, shooting him a ‘sorry’ look. “How long you been dating my sister?”

“Kelly, can we not give Jay the third degree?” you pleaded, your brother shaking his head with a smile as he took a drink from his bottle.

“Oh, not happening, sis.” He walked over to Jay, hand clapping down tight on his shoulder, voice dropping into a low, harsh tone. “I swear to God, Halstead. If you do anything to hurt her, and I mean anything. They’ll never find the body.”

“Kelly!” you exclaimed, throwing a towel at him. Jay nodded, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. He wasn’t expecting you to walk over, giving him a chaste kiss with a smile. “I promise, he’ll come around eventually.”

“I heard that,” Kelly reminded you. “Can we eat now? Some of us actually worked today.”

-----

“Move in with me,” Jay told you as the two of you enjoyed dinner at Gino’s, which seemed to catch you off guard as you coughed after taking a drink.

“What?” you asked, as if you hadn’t heard him properly.

“Y/N, I want you to move in with me,” he said again. “We’ve been together, for what? Almost two years now? I don’t like not getting to come home to you every night, or see you every day.”

“Jay. I love you.” You brought your bottom lip between your teeth before looking at him and nodding with a smile. “I’ll move in with you.”

-----

“You sure this is a good idea?” Kelly asked you as you finished loading up the last of your boxes into the truck. Jay had apologized profusely when a case came up, despite you assuring him Kelly was more than capable of helping you get the last of your stuff moved. “I mean, this isn’t going to change, Jay ditching for work.”

“He isn’t ditching for work, Kelly. I understand his job is different, that sometimes he can be called in at a moments notice. But he makes me happy,” you reminded your brother, the two of you getting in the truck and heading towards Jay’s...your place. You had to remind yourself that it was now your place too. “Plus, when are you going to just drop it with Jay? We’ve been together two years. I’d think you’d at least start to be nice by now.”

“I am nice,” he countered. “I just think you could do better.” You slapped his arm lightly before reclining the seat slightly to get more comfortable.

“Look. You’re my brother and you love me and all that though you won’t admit it half the time.” He chuckled at the statement, but let you continue without piping in to interrupt. “But I love Jay, Kelly. More than I thought possible. I can...see a future with him. Marriage. Kids. White picket fence. The whole nine yards. So can you please, please, please just start being nicer to him. If you haven’t scared him off by now, I don’t think you will.”

“You really think he’s the one?” he asked softly, glancing over at you.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Fine. But no promises for the rest of 51. You’re like a little sister or daughter to them too.” You knew that was the best you were going to get, but you didn’t care. He was going to try. That’s what mattered.

-----

“Thanks for meeting me,” Jay told Kelly as he walked into the bar. You were fast asleep at home, not feeling the greatest, insisting Jay still go out without you. The two men embraced in a quick hug before Hermann brought over their usual drinks.

“Y/N not coming out tonight?” he asked the two of them.

“She’s not feeling the greatest. Plus, she figured some bonding between me and Jay was necessary,” Kelly answered, Hermann nodding before walking away. “So, why did you really ask me to meet up?”

“Well…” Jay pulled a box out of his pocket, setting it on the table before sliding it over to Kelly. “It was my mom’s.” The other man opened the box, looking down at an engagement ring.

“You’re not really my type, man,” Kelly joked with a smile before sliding the ring back. “Is this your ass-backwards way of asking my permission to ask my little sister to marry you?”

“I’m going to ask her if you approve or not. When I first met her...Erin had just left. I wasn’t expecting to find somebody again. And there she was. I want to make this engagement perfect, Severide. I was hoping you could give me some insight.” Kelly looked at the man with a straight face, lips pressed into a thin line before downing the rest of his drink.

“You make her happy,” he finally said after an uncomfortable silence. “She won’t be comfortable with something big, a grand gesture. Keep it simple. She loves the lake, loves walking along Lake Shore. She really likes going up to the Belmont Rocks to look out at the lake. Calls it The Ocean of the Midwest. I’d suggest a picnic or something up there.”

“Thank you.” The two men spent the rest of the evening doing exactly what you wanted, bonding. And it seemed to be working, the two of them having a better understanding of each other and an unspoken truce. Because they both loved you.

-----

“You really didn’t have to do this,” you said again as Jay laid out the blanket, letting you set down the picnic basket before the two of you sat down. He’d insisted that you take the day off to have a relaxed day,

“When was the last time the both of us had a day off? Too long, that’s how. Plus, you have the time off saved up. Might as well make use of it on this beautiful day.” There was no way you could argue with that logic. The two of you ate the sandwiches he’d packed before laying down, staring out at the lake. You’d never told him how much you liked it at this park, not sure how he figured it out. It didn’t matter though, just enjoying being with him.

“I love you,” he whispered, holding you a little closer, causing you to smile. “Which is why I have to ask you something.” He pulled away, getting up on one knee with a velvet box in his hand.

“Jay,” you gasped, hand over your mouth as he opened it to reveal the ring.

“Y/N Severide...You came into my life where I wasn’t looking for love. In fact, I’d sworn it off, thinking that all it led to was pain. Every day, you proved me wrong, fixing what was broken inside me. Being with you is the happiest I’ve ever been, and I don’t ever want to let that go. So...Will you marry me?” His eyes sparkled in the sun, freckles dotted across his face with a look of hope, waiting for your answer.

“Yes.”

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #fanfiction

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omgkalyppso · 3 years

Note

i request kiss prompt 37 for m!byleth and yuri :D (is anyone surprised lol)

I AM! lol. I’ve never yet written Byleth. So. I hope this turns out alright. But thank you so much for the ask. <3 (＠＾◡＾)

37. Write a Kiss ... without a motive.

Yuri was no stranger to distribution of labor, but he did feel there was something inherently ridiculous about Byleth preparing food for their numbers. Here stood the church’s highest authority while Rhea was missing, in so far as Seteth was concerned, and they had him cubing beef for stew; not to mention Byleth was their greatest hope against the empire, and a recent amnesiac to boot, or ... whatever had happened to him. If he’d been in Byleth’s position he’d have used any number of these excuses to pursue more pressing work, or his own aims, perhaps even recovery. Their company needed to eat, but there was no shortage of hands when it came to menial chores.

“Not too thin now,” Byleth requested, unjudgmental and focused, and apparently attentive enough to watch Yuri’s meal prep, despite finding all the right angles for his knife to kiss through to a cutting board with soft, satisfying tocks.

Yuri hissed, looking down at his potatoes. He was being a little enthusiastic. He put down his knife and took a breath, taking in the sight of an old friend, returned from the dead. A name in his book to be crossed out. A miracle. A horror. A friend.

“Why are you doing this?”

The question came out sharper than he’d envisioned. Yuri was so accustomed to dancing around the issues, to interpreting half-meanings and the intentions of others, but there was something painful about the past few months since Byleth’s return. They’d shared laughs, or, as close as Byleth came to laughing, secrets, victories, and now this, this quiet kitchen two days before they would depart for more uncertainty and death.

Byleth looked at him, flat, for just a moment, before tilting his head back to his precise work. “I am afraid.”

Yuri felt his brow twist in confusion, and realized he may have been too harsh, especially since Byleth neither feigned ignorance, nor asked for clarification. There was too much honesty in his answer. He collected his knife and three new potatoes, and to his surprise, Byleth continued.

“Everything’s changed. Everything’s... I feel like everything’s lost. I feel as though I was a mercenary under my father ... so recently. And now they want me to lead. Which is very different than working for the Academy, though so many seem to act as though it is the same. Cooking... This is the same.”

That Byleth felt so out of his element should have been alarming, with so much faith put in one person, so much pressure on one man, but Yuri found himself ... elated. To him it signaled that Byleth was paying attention, to the meetings and battlegrounds, as well as their personal conversations and their noncombatants.

With a click of his tongue, Yuri conceded, “It’s good that you see that. The changes.” He smiled, feeling Byleth’s eyes drift over him again. “And you know, you being back, well, that’s a very positive change for us.”

Their eyes met, and the attention of Byleth’s glassy, green gaze almost distracted Yuri entirely from the pink on his cheeks.

“I hope so,” Byleth said quickly, as he returned to task.

The meal was made with little conversation, and enjoyed with less still between them, what with Byleth sitting with the more public players of the war and the Monastery, but afterwards, when the night was dark and warm, Yuri found Byleth again. He was in the library, pouring over maps and missives, both recent and historical, and at first Yuri didn’t bother to greet him, simply sitting by his side, leaned back upon the table, letting Byleth learn, and work, and catch up. He knew that if he waited, Byleth would not simply ignore him.

When Byleth opened his mouth to speak, Yuri sat up straight and extended a finger towards him with a wink.

“Ah-ah! Don’t speak. You’ll ruin the serenity.”

Byleth closed his mouth, but otherwise seemed unfazed and Yuri couldn’t help the way his lips curled in amusement.

“This could be familiar, couldn’t it?” he suggested. “You always did like the library.” He gestured with one hand with his opposite fist below his chin, to dissuade Byleth from contributing. “Not like dinner tonight,” he smiled at him, taunting, “you never made anything so good years ago.”

“I understand you saved many of the books,” Byleth said, tapping on the one in front of him with the flat of his hand.

“Yes, well, can’t have all that time go to waste. A book like that is worth more than the hours put into it, it’s its years used in reference.”

“You didn’t have to bring them back,” Byleth observed, and Yuri tossed his head aside with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, of course I kept the best ones in the Abyss. Never know what could happen up here. Things do change so fast...”

Byleth’s lips pouted and receded as he took a deep breath through his nose, and the action sent an interesting tingle down Yuri’s spine.

“If things are changing,” Byleth said, and the way he spoke was as if he were holding his breath, but if anything he was doing the opposite, breathing deep, nervous, though his expression was the same.

“Yes?” Yuri prompted, very aware of the movement of his own lips.

“If things have changed,” Byleth said, and Yuri couldn’t tell if it was an amendment on his previous statement, but encouraged him anyway.

“Yes?”

The bench creaked beneath them, and Yuri let his eyes dart around to confirm their seclusion as Byleth leaned towards him. “Then can I...?”

“Yes.”

They were very close now, and Yuri could feel the heat off Byleth’s face, or count the shadows in his eyes. He wondered, distantly, if this were why he’d been so upset earlier, as guilty, desperate, unfair affection set his heart to beating as though this could mean something.

“Can I kiss y—?”

Yuri closed the distance, unable to handle his companion’s suspense.

Byleth melted, his shoulders falling and his lips going soft and pliant in hopeful little movements as his left hand found the front of Yuri’s right shoulder, pulling him closer in a silent plea. He was vulnerable, but still Byleth, and Yuri took pleasure in scaring a soft squeak out of him with a bite upon his lower lip.

Slowly, Yuri removed his gloves, chuckling deep in his throat as Byleth bumped against him. He pressed the back of his left hand upon his cheek, and cradled his neck with his right palm, absorbing a little more of their connection, before allowing Byleth to slip away.

“Not bad,” Yuri teased. “Although we may both be out of practice.”

“Hm,” Byleth huffed, swallowing as he straightened his coat.

“Would you want that?” Yuri asked, spinning his left hand around, fitting some hair behind Byleth’s ear and deciding he didn’t like that and setting it back. “What do you want?”

“I hadn’t thought ahead that far,” Byleth confessed, curling his hands over Yuri’s wrists, and Yuri scoffed.

“Then think about it. And if I like what you decide, maybe I’ll let you know what’s on my mind. How does that sound, friend?”

“Only fair,” Byleth agreed, catching Yuri’s left hand to leave a kiss on his wrist as his hands retreated.

Yuri stood with a bounce, dizzy with affection. He thwapped his gloves against his thigh, straightening them for no reason except to take a breath before excusing himself. “Then I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight, Byleth. Don’t sleep too long.”

“Goodnight.”

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #yuri leclerc #yurileth #long post #my writing #i made this #the fanfiction i mean #<333 #i hope it's alright. and looks. SOMETHING. like what you might have been interested in #it was meant to be considerate of your ace yuri headcanon

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punkgrogg · 4 years

Text

Doorway Duo pt. 1

Pairing: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader, Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!BTS, Non idol AU, fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Y/n was abandoned by her long time boyfriend and moves back home to help prepare for the baby. She’s surprised to find two unfamiliar hybrids at her house.

Length: 3,902 words

Notes: This is my first Hybrid story. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. I have two more parts outlined and will update as soon as possible because this quarantine has done nothing but give me time to write.

Date Posted: 4/24/2020

My hands cradled the ever-growing bump I have for a stomach. I still can’t believe I’m pregnant. If you would have told me four months ago I was going to be pregnant and alone I would have never believed you. I was in a loving relationship with my high-school sweetheart and we were against the world.

Until I found him pressed in between the legs of some random girl from his accounting class. That was three months ago- exactly a week before I found out I was pregnant. I let him know immediately and he admonished me for thinking he was the father. Apparently, there was no way he could be the father- we had only had sex four times in the past year.

It only takes one time, I thought as I picked up the last of my bags. He had moved out of our apartment the week I found him cheating on me and I was more than capable of keeping the place myself but with a baby? No way. I knew nothing about being a mother and thankfully my parents insisted on me coming back home at the end of the semester so they could help me. I’d be finishing my degree online until I got more settled with the baby.

Until. This was only temporary until I got my life back on track.

This has been my mantra for the past few weeks. I’ve repeated it daily in hopes of quelling the anxiety of bringing in a new life. I repeat as I drive twenty minutes out of the city and back home. Parking in front of the house I grew up in, I can feel the dread knotting itself in my stomach. This made everything all the more real and I was scared. Scared to face my future. While I was battling my inner demons I never noticed Hoseok approaching the car until he pulled open my door.

“Y/n! You’re finally here!” he squealed as he awkwardly wrapped me up in a hug. My waist was pinned back against the seat with the seat-belt but he was pulling me out of the car. Hoseok was my adopted brother. He was a hybrid my parents saved when we were both young and he’s been my brother ever since but most people don’t agree with my family’s ideology.

“Hobi you’re hurting me.” I gasped and he instantly released me his fluffy black ears falling flat against his hair. I unbuckled before hopping out and wrapping him in the biggest hug possible. He welcomed the hug with a tightened grasp. I missed him.

“How’s the baby?” I hear my mother call from the porch and Hoseok releases me. He reached past me into the car to pop the trunk before going to unload. I turn towards my mother to see two men beside her as they all make their way down the driveway. Both of the men were taller than Hoseok and like Hoseok they were hybrids. They seemed to be total opposites as far as their fashion choices went. Monochromatic would be the only way to describe their appearance; one an entirely dark presence- his clothes were tight and black from top to bottom, the other was a soft entity- his clothes were light, ashy gray that matched his hair. They both walk past me and assist Hoseok without a glance towards me. My mother captures me in a warm hug.

“They’re doing fine and your baby is doing great too.” I finally answer, returning her hug. As we part, she lays her hand on my stomach with tears in her eyes.

“I swore Jinnie would give me my first grand-babies but here you are, breaking through every expectation once again.”

“I thought I would be an aunt before I was a mother too but I figured it’d be Joon. he was always the ladies’ man in high school.” I sighed exasperatedly. My other two older brothers were back in the city and have already started their careers. Seokjin was engaged and Namjoon was so focused on his career that I don’t think he’s been on a date since high school.

“Well, life has a funny way of making things happen. Have you found out the gender yet?”

“As I told you three days ago, they’re sitting weird and we can’t figure out what it is,” I said as we walked into the house. I could hear my dad in the kitchen, presumably cooking tacos from the smell of it. He was always the best cook in the house and insisted on cooking every meal. I followed the scent of cumin and sizzling beef as I could hear the pounding of feet up the stairs behind me.

“Baby girl, I’m making your favorite,” He says as he comes over for a quick side hug. As quick as he was here- he was gone. Back to tending to the tortillas and chopping the onions.

“I haven’t had tacos in forever, whenever I smelled any kind of beef I became nauseous,” I commented idly, my father’s face turning up in disgust and my mother’s showing sympathy.

“I couldn’t eat eggs for any of my pregnancies, especially during the first trimester.” she patted my shoulder gently and moved towards the fridge. I heard the stampeding feet once again and was quickly tugged into someone’s side.

“What’s my nephew’s name?” Hoseok asked loudly, his cheek pressed to the top of my head. I glanced quietly towards the doorway where the two men stood as still as a pair of statues while intently looking towards me.

“It might be a niece you’re getting.” I retorted while pulling myself away. I stepped towards the doorway duo with an outstretched hand. “Hi, I’m Y/n, sorry that no one else introduced us.”

The first one to shake my hand had broad shoulders and ashy gray hair. He had a long tail that reached the floor that was the same gray as his appearance but was accented by black spots. He held my hand gingerly and dipped his head towards me. “ I’m Taehyung, its nice to meet you.” His hand lingered as I turned to the next guy.

The second man had more muscles than I had ever seen on your average person. His face was jarring with the baby fat still clinging to his cheeks, he had short-cropped hair that accentuated his tall pointed ears. And unlike the first, he hesitated on taking my hand.

“Jungkook,” He said tersely before shaking my hand once and dropping it like it was hot coals.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” I said while stepping away once. Taehyung took a half step forward, his gaze still trapped on my face. Jungkook’s gaze was firmly focused on my stomach, an intense look that made my heart skip and subconsciously pull my hands forward to protect them.

“You’re not going to ask?” Taehyung asked, his face screwed up in confusion. I could feel Hoseok’s presence towering behind me- his hand reaching up to grasp my shoulder.

“Ask what?” My head cocked in confusion before realization dawned on me. “Oh, how rude of me. How was your day?” Hoseok chuckled from behind me before piping in.

“He meant asking what they were.” embarrassment made my face flush, how could I be so dense?

“Oh. Uh. Well, you can tell me if you want. I honestly don’t really care about that, I’m not too sure about what Hobi is.”

“Great Pyrenees. Goodness, you’d think after sixteen years you’d know that.”

“All I know is that you’re fluffy and a cuddle bug.”

“I’m a snow leopard hybrid.” Taehyung quickly interjected, his ears pointed up, they rose mere centimeters above his wild untamed curls. They were the same color as his ashy hair but had accents of black on the tips.

“Really? That’s so cool, I’ve never met a snow leopard hybrid before.” He mirrored my smile, his eyes crinkling into feline-esque slits. Faint patches of freckles were mapped across his cheekbones, curling up around his eyes.

“We’re as rare as our animal counterpart.” His eyes glanced quickly towards Jungkook meaningfully then flickered away just as fast. “Jungkook here is a German Shepherd hybrid.”

“Wow, that’s really cool.” Jungkook couldn’t meet my stare and quietly excused himself, high tailing his way back up the stairs. Taehyung ignored his retreating form and instead stepped into the kitchen, sitting at the counter. Hoseok followed after him relaxing into the second to last stool

“Sorry, he’s a bit apprehensive, Hoseok warned us about your pregnancy and that you might have crazy mood swings.” The gray man added conversationally, his eyes scanning over my face approvingly. He cracked a grin at the disbelief that spread across my face.

“Crazy what?” my father chuckled at my incredulous tone, “Hobi I will kill you.” I stepped towards him menacingly and he shot up off his perch.

“See Tae? It’s already happening. Mom, get your daughter.” he cried out as he circled around the counter towards mom.

He tried to duck behind her smirking form as I neared but he underestimated the drama mom lived for. “You only brought this on yourself, honey.” She flitted over to dad’s side and taste-tested the corn salsa.

“Who’s gonna save you now?” I smirked at him as I crept closer, my hands poised to pinch the ever-loving shit out of his cheeks.

“This isn’t fair, I can’t fight a pregnant woman,” Hobi whined as he resisted my efforts- his entire upper body leaning away from me.

“If either of you scoundrels hurt my grand-baby I will ground you both.” my dad intoned, halting both our figures. My hands cupping his face and his pushing against my shoulders lightly. Taehyung was laughing at us- he had melodic giggles.

“Taehyung dear, will you go tell Jungkook it’s time for dinner? Y/n and Hoseok go set the table.” Mom ordered and all three of us obeyed instantly. Hobi pulled a stack of plates out the cabinet and I rounded up the silverware. Taehyung was up the stairs by the time Hobi and left the kitchen and headed over to the dining room. I straightened out the red table mats and laid out a set of silverware while Hobi was a step behind me laying out his stack of plates.

“So, all jokes aside, how has it been?” he asked as we finished up, I leaned heavily against the chair in front of me. It sucks. I’m about to be responsible for a whole person. I’m scared and alone. Is what I thought but there was no way I could actually tell him that.

“Well, it’s not what I had planned but I’ll get through it. It’s weird being back here when I’ve been living in the city for the past three years.” A wry smile managed to take residence on my face.

“You’ll get used to it, and like you said you’ll get through it. Have you heard from him?” Hobi settled into the chair directly across from me. He started to fiddle with his spoon as I sunk down into my seat.

“No, and I don’t want to. He said he wasn’t the father and that he didn’t want to be.”

“Jin and I will still kick his ass if you want us to.” He was focused on the spoon in his hand, but I could tell that emotionally he was struggling. He was always the more empathetic of my brothers and showed to be more protective of our family at every turn. He was the first one I told when I found Henry was unfaithful and he was the first to know I was pregnant.

“No, it’s fine. We don’t need that loser anyway.” I smile at him, hoping to convey my appreciation to how he’s been so strong in supporting me. My eyes strayed up to the stairs, the question finally breaking through. “Uh, what’s with our two guests? Friends of yours from work?”

“No, the shelter caught on fire last week, and since mom and dad are certified for fostering they brought them in. Mom didn’t tell you?” Hoseok cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowed.

“She didn’t but that sucks about the shelter. When will it be fixed?” The shelter was where hybrids could stay and be safe. And, as unfair as it is, where they could find their next home. Hybrids had a terrible history and humans were horrible when it came to them. Many held no regard for their hybrids- considering them no better than an animal. Thankfully by adolescence hybrids usually find their place in life and the shelter typically only houses kids being adopted out. There were cases where a family who could no longer provide the care for their hybrid had to surrender them to the shelter. Cases presumably like Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Boss said a couple of months until the renovations are all finished.” Hoseok was a volunteer at the shelter, he has been since high school. Hybrids weren’t allowed to work without the permission of their family (something that outrages our family to no end) and most could only work in volunteer positions.

“Maybe they’ll finally fix the break room's window.” I teased, for as long as I can remember the window has been duct-taped together. No matter what- renovations or accidents being repaired- the window has remained duct-taped together.

“That window has been broken since Hoseok came into the family,” Dad chimed in as he swept into the room. He was carrying the frying pan full of steak in one hand and a table protector in the other. He laid it in the center of the table as Mom, Taehyung, and Jungkook followed behind with their arms full of the side dishes.

“There’s always hope.” Retorted Hobi, ever the optimist.

“I highly doubt it- it’ll probably be the only thing missed by the renovations.” Dad shook his head, having lost hope on that window years ago.

“What’s being missed?” Mom asks, situating the chopped tomatoes and the tower of tortillas.

“The shelter’s break room window.” I supplied, helping pull out the chair to my right for her to sit. Jungkook settled in the seat in between Hoseok and my dad; Taehyung claimed the seat on the right of my mother.

“Oh that thing has always been broken, I figured they’d fix it years ago. Anyway, Hoseok dear pass me the sour cream.” at that, we all settled into making our plates.

“Dad, this is sublime, I’ve been living off of pizza and ramen for the past few months.” The taco was by far the best thing I’ve eaten in months. The seasonings and fresh ingredients almost overwhelming my poor college student tastebuds. Dad smiled down the table at me.

“Is that healthy for the baby?” Hoseok asked making a face of concern directed to my stomach.

“You can worry about yourself- I already got an earful of complaints from mom about prenatal vitamins.” Jungkook snorted at the retort and smiled at me for the first time.

“Honestly what's the difference between prenatal vitamins and regular vitamins?” Taehyung asked, turning towards my mother and I. I shrugged and shoved another taco in my mouth. Mom said they were important and I believed her- plus my doctors said it was great when I had told him I was already taking the vitamins.

“They have more iron and other nutrients that pregnant women don’t get enough of.” Mom explained and Taehyung nodded thoughtfully.

“Pregnancy is so much work, I don't know how you did it three times mom.” Mom laughed at that- covering her face with a napkin.

“Raising you four was way more work, pregnancy was a breeze compare to four teenagers.” She looked at me with pointed eyes. Ah, yes, the dreaded teenage years I would soon face. I grimaced at the thought of hormone-fueled years. Hopefully, I’ll have a daughter, I knew how girls worked throughout puberty.

“Hey, Namjoon wasn’t nearly as bad as the other three.” Dad defended, he was always on the defense of his supposed angel child.

“Joonie almost slept with the entire highschool our junior year and I’m surprised he even got through college without a baby,” Hobi interjected loudly causing Taehyung to laugh.

“No really, Jin, and I thought he was going to catch something.” He continued, turning towards the gray hybrid. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes expressed the utmost of sincerity.

“Your brother did not.” Mom joined the defense, her and dad believing the facade Joon had put up throughout our childhood.

“That’s what you think, he was a sneaky little bastard.” I chimed in joining Hobi’s side. Jungkook and Taehyung were giggling to themselves watching us all bicker.

“Middle children always are,” Jungkook said joining the offensive.

“They’re nowhere near as spoiled as the youngest.” Hobi suddenly turned on me, the shock of betrayal apparent in my scoff.

“She’s the only girl, you guys never stood a chance.” The unexpected support form Taehyung had me smirking at my new enemy.

“It’s not my fault I’m the favorite,” I flipped my hair over my shoulder and leveled Hobi with a teasing glare.

“Seokjin might beat you there.” Mom rebuked, completely sideswiping me.

“Hey! Does your grandchild mean nothing to you?” I cried out in mock surprise, Jin was mom’s angel child.

“Honey, we promised not to tell them.”

“Honestly, high key offended but not surprised.” Hoseok shook his head as he continued on with his taco. The room dissolved into chatter as we finished dinner; I excused myself from the table to unpack.

I slowly made my way up the stairs while taking the time to look at all the photos of my brothers and me throughout the years. My room was the first room at the top of the stairs- Hoseok’s was directly across. Namjoon and Seokjin’s rooms were the other two rooms but both have now turned into guest bedrooms ever since they graduated college. My room used to be our parents’ when we were really young but soon after bringing Hobi into the family, they renovated the garage into the master bedroom of their dreams.

My room was still the ugly lime green color that I begged my dad into painting it when I was in middle school. The furniture was a yellowing white and had layers of neon colors splattered on it. Coming home really incited the cringe-worthy memories of my early teen years- swore it was cool at some point. My suitcases and duffel bags were resting on my bed. I decided to shuffle my music while unpacking the impossible amounts of clothes I managed to pack.

~~~~~~~~

“Now all your love is wasted, then who the hell was I?” I sang along, lost in the moment of hanging up all of my shirts. One bag remained after I finished my shirts- my underwear and socks. I was startled out of my peaceful reverie at the abrupt knock at my door. I whipped around to see Jungkook hesitating at my doorway with a shy smile.

“Your mom asked me to bring this up to you,” he answered my unasked question and held out a plate with chocolate cake. My mouth watered just looking at it.

“Thank you Jungkook, just set it down on that dresser and I’ll get it when I finish this up “I waved towards the surface closest to him with the hanger in hand while hooking on a sweater. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he slowly stepped into the room and laid the cake on the dresser.

He stood in place while looking around at my room his gaze finally settling on the pile of luggage on the floor at the foot of my bed. “Do you need any help?”

“No,” My answer was quick and he seemed to flinch at it. To soften the unintended blow I smiled awkwardly, “but you’re more than welcome to hang out in here.”He meandered over to edge of the bed as I hung up the last shirt from my bag. It was silent as I shoved the bag off the bed and onto the pile of other emptied ones and made my way over to my cake. I hopped up onto the dresser to sit so I could face Jungkook while I ate. He avoided looking at my face and instead looked at the posters hung on my wall that were of artists that never really charted on any kind of chart.

“What kind of music are you into?”He looked at me quizzically as I finally broke the awkward silence between us.

“Well, that’s a tough question. A little bit of everything I guess, mainly pop if I had to settle on a genre.” I finished my cake and set it to the side as I smiled at him wildly.

“Me too, I kind of go in phases though, like it’ll be pop and then I’ll really get into 70s indie rock for a couple of weeks.” He softly grinned at my enthusiasm before snickering.

“You sound like Tae when he gets into his movies, it’ll be a week-long showing of all marvel films and then two months of obscure Buster Keaton films.” His tone sounded as if he’s experienced this far too many times to count.

“Buster Keaton was the shit though,” my proclamation was met with the horror of a man too well versed in debating Buster Keaton.

“Oh god, not another one.” he groaned, flopping back onto my bed. I laughed a little until he sat up again, his smile sobering me up.

“So how long have you and Taehyung known each other?” Were they from the same home before being placed in the shelter? It wasn’t that often that people were able to bond so well when in the shelter with how short their stays typically were.

“We have been roommates at the shelter for, I guess, about a year now. He’s my best friend.” Jungkook’s smile was the complete opposite of what should accompany that sentence. A month was the maximum I had ever heard of someone staying in the shelter. I schooled my features to not show the shock I felt.

“Who me? It better be me or else I’m chopping heads off.” Taehyung entered the room in the most dramatic way possible. Unlike Jungkook he hadn’t waited for an invitation and instead strutted into the room while Jungkook rolled his eyes at the theatrics.

“I hear you’re a fellow Keaton aficionado.” My statement caused him to falter in his stride, he quickly recovered with a beaming smile directed towards me.

“On occasion, noir is where my heart is truly.” His hand clutched at the thick gray cardigan right above his heart.

“Your heart changes every other day.” Jungkook rebutted, his eyes rolling so far back he might lose them back there.

“She’s noncommittal okay, we don’t judge here.” Taehyung glared at his best friend and it made my heart swell at how cute they both were.

“I’m most definitely judging,” Jungkook muttered falling back on his elbows and staring up at the ceiling, feigning annoyance.

“Can you believe him Y/n?” The deep timbre of his voice negated any nasal squeak he might otherwise have from his whiny tone.

“He’s a real scoundrel, the worst of them all.”

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sweetestlamb · 4 years

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Lighting Up Your World Part 2

Episode 18

Author’s notes: THANK YOU!!!!! I’ll start there, thank you guys for your overwhelming support on part 1 that I posted yesterday. You guys make me feel like such a great writer, hearing that some of you cried because of something I wrote. incredible. This part is shorter because I was a bit strapped for time and I scrapped a vast amount the original version I had because I got new ideas and I just didn’t feel like the other version was enough or had the feeling I wanted. Anyway, I hope you guys still enjoy Part 2 aka Episode 18. Tell me your favorite line in the comments, I just think that would be cute hehe lol. *Plays “Lighting Up Your World” ♫ ♫

He remembers the exact moment that he purchased the ring, its sparkling brilliance from under the glass display, he imagined it sitting on her dainty fingers taking the place of her many other decorative rings. He imagined her face has he placed it on her finger. The store associate had wondered over to him with a knowing smile on his face, as if he knew that look very well, had seen it on the lovesick faces of countless men. After a few minutes of rapid questioning, he walked out with the precious stone in his possession, nerves shooting up and down his veins until he felt like a ball of anxiety. The ring heavy as lead in his pocket as he staggered home in a daze, in disbelief at what he'd done.

When he had come home to the castle, he could feel the ring burning a hole through the pocket of his jeans. His heart pattering away, erratic in his chest. He avoided eye contact with Mun-yeong as she greeted him at the door, candied smile welcoming home as she eagerly pulling him into the house demanding that he play with her.

She hadn’t been amused by his suggestion of cards.

Viciously pushing him in the wall and latching onto his neck like a leech. Hours later, he stumbled out of bed panting as he stealthily hid the box in the bottom of his drawer,covering it with mounds of clothes before tiptoeing into his bed alongside his brother dreaming of Mun-yeong in pristine white walking down an aisle that was laden with soft pink rose petals that matched the hue of her lips. He woke up saying "I do." Relieved that his brother was a relatively deep sleeper and hadn't heard his slip of tongue.

The sounds of nature, birds chirping and the wind rustling leaves pulled him from the sandman's hold, as he blinked awake, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. Immediately he noticed the lack of pressure on his arm, too light without her head cushioned on his bicep as she used him as her personal pillow. He had long stopped trying to get her to use a pillow, she was adamant that his arms were a perfect substitute. A wave of pride blossomed in his chest every time she would stroke a finger across the bulging muscle, humming in approval, openly appreciating his body.

Stumbling to the bathroom he groggily brushes his teeth before hopping in the shower to wash off the sweat that lingered from being pressed against her flesh all night. After changing into his outfit, another t-shirt and jeans with sneakers, he’s a creature of habit. He walks out of the camping can eyes scouting for his missing girlfriend before finding her over the open grill, poking at the meat she's grilling, tongue poking out slightly as she impatiently waits for their tenderness.

What he doesn't expect to see is a little helper on her side, Min-jo, sits in the chair right next to her, eagerly watching the meat as it grills, babbling away at Mun-yeong, who for the most part looks content in the child's presence.

"How do I pick the people I put in my family?" Her innocent voice lifts with curiosity as she peers up at Mun-yeong, eyes shining brightly with young hope and naivete. "What age will I be ready to choose my family?"

With a sigh he watches Mun-yeong bring a slightly underdone piece of beef to her mouth, she's always too impatient to wait for food to reach its necessary temperature for consumption, higher internal heat his ass. The juices from the meat run down the side of her mouth, and he's left feeling like he's watching a lioness in the wild, lethal and it is majestic.

"Didn't I already tell you to stop following me? I don't have any answers for you." She dismissively responds, looking exasperated clearly this isn't her first time hearing and rebuking this question.

He coughs to announce his arrival, watching both their eyes snap up to settle on him, one pair with adoration the other disinterest then glee.

Min-jo greets him first, "Hi, Mr.Prince!" She waves enthusiastically at him, little hand looking like it could take flight at any moment, he blushes at his new moniker, glaring at Mun-yeong who smirks at the intended response.

"You don't need to call me that, remember I told you my name." He answers sheepishly rubbing his neck.

"But Ms. Witch told me that you and your brother, who is an illustrator saved her from her castle and then you lived happily ever after. I never knew that princes could save witches." She says the last sentence with pure wonder, sighing softly.

"Only if they're pretty princes just can't resist a pretty witch. They follow them wherever they go." Mun-yeong teasingly eyed him, images of young Gang-tae happily trailing after a dispassionate Mun-yeong playing out in both of their memories.

"Well I didn't exactly save her from the castle, I just lived there with her. Together, we made it happier. We became a family and a family has to live together, so they can lean on each other and not do pointless work." Mun-yeong scoffs at his reminder of Sang-tae's story, rolling her eyes affectionately at him.

"That sounds nice. And now you live on a house on wheels. I've never seen one before." She eyes the camping van, as he approaches them taking the last chair, on the left with Mun-yeong in the center.

"How long have you two been here?"

"This brat came here an hour ago, I keep telling her to go away but she won't listen. " She hands his a bowl of food and he notes with barely concealed amusement that a smaller bowl is aggressively placed in Min-jo's grasping hands.

"Thank you Miss Witch!" Min-jo chirps sweetly, scarfing down the food without another word.

Mun-yeong watches her before devouring her own food, her leg brushing against his when she sways into his body heat, a morning chill lingering in the air, as he glances at her and notices that she is wearing a short cotton romper, soft blue with white speckles splashed across the material. Drastic shift from yesterday's funeral best, he smiles at the implications. He wraps an arm around her shoulder drawing her into his heat, her hum of satisfaction rumbling through his body.

Min-jo's chopsticks clink on the bowl as she asks, "If you two share a brother, does that mean you are brother and sister?" His cheeks redden at the inquisitive child.

"No. He's my boyfriend, we share his brother."

"Oh." She easily accepts before adding to his embarrassment, "What do you do with a boyfriend?"

He whips his head to stare at Mun-yeong willing her not to ruin the innocence of a child, she looks back at him with a straight face before answering, "Well a lot of fun things. Sometimes we kiss, he likes that a lot and sometimes we even--"

"Yah!" He pinches her arm, hard.

She slaps him in retaliation, pouting as she soothes her pained skin, "I was going to say hug and hold hands. Why did you pinch me?"

He doesn't believe her for one second, her filter non-existent indiscriminate of the audience.

He glares at her until she resumes eating her food, ignoring the rest of Min-jo’s constant stream of questions. If she kept this up she could be an adept detective.

Entertaining a child has never been a task he's been troubled with before and he worries his lip as he looks at the little girl bouncing in her chair with unfiltered glee. They’d made the mistake of feeding her and now she had a boundless amount of energy, unable to keep still for even a moment.

"What should we do now Miss Witch?"

"I'm not here to entertain you. And he's my toy so you can't play with him." She juts her thumb in his direction, he admonishes at her statement arguing that he is not a toy. She nods unconvincingly as if his arguments are futile and she has already made up her mind.

"I'm bored." Min-jo continues, ignoring them.

"Then leave."

"But I don't want to." She whines.

"Then make your own fun."

Their bickering reminds him so much of Mun-yeong and Sang-tae tears prickle in his eyes as he decides to check on his brother. It's been two days since his abrupt departure, the longest they've been without each other. He softly announces that he'll her right back before disappearing into the van, their rising voices following him each step of the way.

I'm fine. I'm working and drawing. Stop worrying, have fun with Mun-yeong. Remember a kiss is better than a fight.

The highlights of his conversation with his older brother, who had answered on his third ring, rushing him off the phone because he was quote, "very booked and busy", he really needed to stop Mun-yeong from teaching his hyung her ridiculous slang. Especially phrases like that, that even he couldn't decipher. He had hummed along as if he wasn't completely lost before bidding Sang-tae goodbye.

He took a moment for himself before rejoining them outside, letting his brother's voice wash over him. He knew their relationship had a tinge of codependency but hadn't realized to what extent until their separation. This was good for them. Healthy. He knew that now.

It just hurt a little right now, but that was okay. Pain wasn't permanent.

The sounds of water splashing hit his ear drums as he jumps off the last step of the camping van, as if on autopilot he rushes to the lake, cold chill on his skin as he searches for Mun-yeong.

She stands on the bank of the lake. Safely out of reach, watching as Min-jo flaps her little arms wildly keeping herself afloat. She is helped by the presence of bright pink floaties on her arms, buoying her onto the surface of the wet escape.

"Can you come in the water Miss Witch?"

He watches Mun-yeong gaze at the water, fear bleeding into her irises before she blinks it away. Brief and clipped response, "No."

There is a pregnant pause, before the child continues, "Are witches afraid of water?"

Mun-yeong's eyes are cold as she looks at Min-jo, he watches the interaction enraptured in this achingly honest conversation encrypted in their own language.

"Yes."

He's releases a breath he didn't know he was hiding. Watching Min-jo nod at her response, "That's okay. Everyone is scared of something. I'm scared of being alone. But you said when I'm older I can find a family. Maybe one day you'll find a way to be in the water." She says it matter of fact, like she has no doubt that Mun-yeong will conquer this fear.

The sun is no longer as high in the sky and the skyline begins to swirl into hues of pink, orange and yellow. Like a mad painter dragged their unwashed paintbrush across the surface.

"I think it's time we took you back." His voice breaks their bubble as they turn to look at him. He smiles at them both, charmed by this little whirlwind who has bulldozed her way into Mun-yeong's path. Vaguely wondering what happens when a tornado and a hurricane meet?

They walk back to the diner, Min-jo in the center and the eyes that land on them make him wonder if they look like a family, Min-jo had reached out to grasp their hands but Mun-yeong had slapped it away complaining of her dirty lake hands. The girl had only laughed before happily holding his hand instead before Mun-yeong broke between them, reminding her that he was her toy much to this chagrin.

The same older woman who had prevented Min-jo from following them the previous day, hastily bursts through the door as they draw close enough to be seen, her frantic voice shrill in the air, "Where have you been? Why did you leave without telling me? Are you okay?!" She grabs Min-jo, raptly checking her body for injuries, touching the wet hair on her head before looking at them angrily.

"Who are you? And why are you with this child?"

Min-jo beats them to answer, "This is the pretty witch and her prince." She beams at the woman, who looks taken back at the response.

He bows low in apology before continuing the explanation, "I'm Moon Gang-tae and this is my girlfriend Ko Mun-yeong. She came to find us we wanted to make sure she made it back safely."

She stares at him, scrutinizing his answer but once she sees that the girl is not harmed she sighs before accept his apology, "Okay. Thank you, I'm sorry for any trouble she caused you." She respectfully bows in return.

"You must have been really worried about her."

She freezes at his statement, looking down at Min-jo before averting her eyes, "No. I wasn't. I.....was just bothered thinking about her."

He raises an eyebrow at the defensive deflection.

"That's the same thing." Mun-yeong quips sharply.

The woman's eyes narrow but there is no argument.

They all stand in silence, the wind howls around them, darkness beginning to fall as the sun drifts into the water.

It is time for them to go.

"Well this is goodbye, be well and stay safe." He bows once more, Mun-yeong waves once before turning away without another word to either. He shoots Min-jo an apologetic smile as her huge wet eyes follow Mun-yeong longingly.

Then she's ripping herself from the tight grip of the woman who cries at the action. She runs straight into Mun-yeong's back. Little feet thundering on the ground and she quickly closes the distance between them.

"Wait."

Mun-yeong halts her movement, still facing away.

"Can....I?.." She stutters around the words that jumble in her mouth, eyes staring a hole in Mun-yeong's back, she must be impervious to its heat. After a long drawn out pause she bravely finishes her question, "Can I be apart of your family?" The hope laced in her voice batters at his heart, she's just a child who wants to be loved. Crying out for it. Begging for it.

"No."

Her little head bows in defeat, nodding as if she understands, nobody wants her and she doesn't belong anywhere.

She starts to walk back to the woman, all the previous joy and wonder sucked from every cell of her body. Walking as if a marionette on a string, stilted.

"We're leaving. A family needs to stay together, to lean on each other." Mun-yeong's voice causes her to pause mid step, a twinge warmer than it was earlier. The first day of spring after winter's bitter cold. "You should find a family that worries about you and who needs someone to lean on too. A family that will never leave you."

He watches as those huge eyes slowly travel until they land on the lady. She runs back to her, body trembling as she looks at her like she's seeing her for the first time. Eyes now able to see what has always been right in front of her.

"Can we be a family?"

The woman gasps, turning her head away, eyes glistening. Min-jo reaches out and takes her hand, small palms appearing even tinier in the woman’s hold as she peers up hopeful once more.

He turns away before he can see the conclusion, walking away to fall into step with Mun-yeong, who turns to meet his gaze. He notices the tear streaks on her skin, fondly looking at her, falling ever more in love.

"How did it end?"

He shrugs, taking her hand, "I didn't stay. But I hope it's a happy ending."

"Me too." She squeezes his hand, tightly.

******************************************************************************************

She wordlessly goes into the camping van announcing that she wants to take a nap. He nods at her, pressing a kiss to her wet cheek before letting her go.

He opens the box of supplies he bought days ago, nerves all but obliterated, he's never been surer of anything in his life. He works diligently but quietly, eyes tracking the door of the camping van to ensure Mun-yeong doesn't suddenly appear before he's done. As he finishes his last touches, he climbs the stairs of the camping van. Eyes softening at the sight of his girlfriend laying on his bed roll, snuggling into his night shirt. He coos at the rare and precious sight, loathing the idea of waking her.

The choice is taken from him when her lashes flutter open and her unfocused eyes land on him, she jumps up nonchalantly hiding the shirt behind her. He pretends not to see it, pointedly looking away from her. Before he beckons her up.

"Come with me."

He offers his hand, sees her in all blue glowing in the sun as she waited for him.

Once again, she takes his hand. It's just as sweet as the first time. His heart is giddy with love.

He contemplates asking her to close her eyes but ultimately decided against it, he wants her to see and relish every moment.

Her small gasp as he pushes the door open makes his heart tremble and do a back-flip, bouncing all around the cavities of his chest. She looks around astonished at the scene, the faint twinkling of the fairy lights that adorn the camping van, blinking rhythmically, like stars that fell from the sky, the long winding path of rose petals that lead to a blanket that is topped with a bountiful basket and a bucket with wine.

"Wow."

She turns to look at him, eyes glossy and shining under the luminescence of the fairy lights. "What is this?"

He doesn't answer her question, actions have always spoken louder than words for him. He escorts her down the path of petals, softly crunching under their feet. Until they reach the blanket and he helps her sit before lowering himself next to her.

He opens the basket, removing all the food he purchased and hid away, small sandwiches and fresh fruits. He plucks a strawberry out before pressing it to her lips, "Open up." The dark desire that rolls through her eyes makes his body flush in return. She obeys silently, wrapping her lips around the soft flesh of the berry, biting down, relishing at the flavor before swallowing. She feeds him a slice of honey dew in return, fingers dragging across his lips bewitchingly.

They consume the rest of the food in silence, feeding themselves and each other in equal turns. Before he pours them both a bottle of the cheap wine he was able to purchase in a liquor store in the town. Her eyes never leave his face as she drinks the wine, captivated by his every move.

"Are you full?" He whispers not wanting to interrupt the calm that has settled like a warm blanket over them.

"Yes, I'm no longer hungry." Intentional pause, as her eyes lock on his lips. "For food."

Adjusting himself in his pants he ignores her tempting offer, for now. The main event is still around the corner and he needs all his wits for that.

Taking her hand in his large palms, he rubs his thumb along the soft skin, gazing into her eyes with his own laid open, wanting her to see everything he feels.

"Mun-yeong, I love you. I love who I am with you, who I've become with you, I want to be with you always."

She blinks at his words, words escape her as she stares at him. He doesn't give her a chance to flounder much more, pulling out what he had hidden in his pocket and placing it in her hand.

The button eyes of the nightmare doll, glow under the moonlight and she looks down at the thing she once dismissed as "ugly crap", now a prized possession.

"Mang-tae?..."

"I'm still a coward a little, he's going to help me tell you a message." He guides her eyes to the scroll sticking from the pouch, all too similar to her concealed message to him.

She slowly pulls the paper from the sack, hands trembling as she unfurls it and reads the message written. She's a fast reader, incredibly so, he knows that and the message is fairly short yet she stares at it for what feels like hours, maybe even years, time is relative in the moment.

She reads the message again and again and again and again and again.

Before she finally puts it down. Then the tears come, easily, flowing like a river, soaking the neck of her romper and she lets them fall, doesn't interrupt their journey, allows herself this brief moment of vulnerability.

She's never looked more beautiful in his eyes.

He tells her so, "You look so beautiful. I want to see this face until I die."

Without a word she places Mang-tae tenderly on the blanket, before crawling into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and she answers his question with a kiss. Their lips crash together with enough force to knock him backwards, dragging her with him as they tumble on the blanket.

Her tongue prods at his mouth and he eagerly allows her entrance, moaning at the sweet flavor of strawberry that floods his taste buds, sucking her tongue into his mouth to get more. His hands rub at the exposed skin of her back, traveling down to squeeze her soft lush ass, bringing their pelvis in contact. She grinds down sensually on his erection, moaning at the hot sensation. He pulls the tie holding her romper together, pulling back from the kiss to strip her bare. She resembles a wood nymph naked underneath the smattering of stars in the inky sky, the forest rustles around them.

While he's lost in the glory of her body, she undresses him, pulling his shirt over his head and pressing hot open kisses against his stomach, before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them own with his boxers in one firm tug. Then she hungrily gazes at his body, hands massaging his thighs before she crawls back into his arms, their bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces.

Their tongues meet in a languid battle, bodies rolling against each other like waves, uncontrollably. He presses a curious finger at the folds hidden between her thighs and groans at the enticing wetness that surrounds the digit. Coating in her sweet juices. She shakes her head above him, lifting up to dislodge his finger. He looks at her in question.

"I'm too close. I can't take foreplay. Make love to me." She pleads, demands, begs. All of them, at once.

She steals his breath, just like she did his heart and his control. He wonders what he will have left after her? What will still be his when she takes it all? He would give anything to her.

He is incapable of denying her so with a gentle grip of her waist he moves her aligning their bodies before his cock brushes against her most intimate spot, with a fluid tilt of his hip he slides into her tight pussy, it feels like coming home.

He exalts at the sensation, letting it roll over him, basking in her constrictions around him as she wiggles in his arms before pulling his ear lobe into her wet mouth, "Please."

He thrusts into her, powerful but steady, drawing her close and forcing her to meet him. She begins to ride him, feet planted beside his hips as she rams herself down into his hard cock, the view is unbelievable her face twisted in euphoria under a million dazzling stars, he takes a snapshot in his mind.

Before she knocks all thoughts out of his head, plunge down harder and faster onto him, he grabs her waist desperately, needing to slow her down. But she fights his grip, pushing his hands beside his head and he could easily take control but as he watches her fall apart he realizes she needs this. Desperately. Everything tonight has been out of her control, she needed to gain some of it back. Needed to find her footing as he effortlessly swept her off her feet.

He lets her hold his hands down, giving no resistant, watching her fuck herself on him, entranced by the indecent sight of his dick disappearing in and reappearing out of her. In. Out. In. Out. InOut. InOut. She sets a punishing pace despite asking him to make love to her but he muses that their version of love hasn't always been gentle or tranquil, sometimes it was volatile even explosive so for them this is making love. It similar to everything else in their lives has layers, that they are continually peeling back to expose a new coat.

She starts to moan loudly, little ahs so sweet in the wind, twisting and undulating until every downward thrust bumps against her clit, she keens as she pants out his name, "Moon Gang-tae, Moon Gang-tae!"

He holds on for the ride, hips slamming violently into hers as she tightens around him, walls crushing him until finally she shakes in his arms, her body twitching almost out of his hold and he swiftly snatches her back, drilling into the tight wall of her pussy until he feels his pinnacle nearing, the blood in his head surges and he feel his length swell and explode as he tumbles over the edge, driving every last drop of him inside her until she's stuffed full.

She collapses onto him, knocking the wind from his lung. But he takes her weight, wrapping her in his arms.

"Yes." She breaths into his ears.

Sliding out of the tight glove of her pussy he rolls to the side, catching Mang-tae once more, her brows farrow again.

"You didn't let me finish." He gently chides. Taking her hand and bringing it the the pouch on the doll's back once more, he sees the shock that washes over her features, eyes large in wonder as she pulls out the object hidden inside.

A sparkling gold ring, a modest princess cut diamond sits proudly on top, as beautiful as its new owner.

"Are you serious?" Her voice trembles, the tears coming again.

"Yes. But right now it's just a promise ring, a promise that one day I'll be a man who's worthy of being your husband. I wanted to give it to you now so you know that I'm yours and I want you to be mine in very sense of the word. What do you say?"

Her face crinkles into a smile, "You promised not to make me cry again. You already broke that promise tonight. You better not break this one."

He chuckles, "Those are happy tears that doesn't count. And you didn't answer my question." He needs to hear her answer.

She looks at him from under her lashes, naked and beautiful under the inky black night sky, lips blessing him with her response, "Sure. Why not?"

He smiles at the nonchalant answer as she weeps, before taking the ring from her hand, gently pressing the ring onto her finger, it looks like it belongs, perfect fit.

She tackles him onto the blanket, showering his face with kisses as he laughs loudly, freely. Living out his wildest dream with girl that he liked who become the woman that he loves.

The message on the scroll crushed between their weight. But the words are unaffected.

Marry me, someday?

They were in no rush they had a lifetime ahead of them.

Maybe even another after that, if they were reincarnated and destiny brought them together again.

*******************************************************************************************

She drives them to their new location, he doesn't comment on her driving past the diner or looking through the glass to see Min-jo happily talking to the woman, their hands wrapped around each other as she pulls the lady behind her, excitedly jabbering. Neither of them say anything but she smiles the whole drive after, humming along to BLACKPINK on the radio.

♫ ♫ Dududududu ♫ ♫

He still doesn't comment when they end up at another site with a lake and mountains in the background.

After using the bathroom when he comes out of her van he finds her standing on the bank of the river. Feet barely grazing the water.

Wrapped around her arms are the bright pink floaties he saw on Min-jo's arms.

His breath hitches as she looks back at him, defiant smile on her face. Her ring shining from its permanent spot on her finger.

She takes a step towards the water.

#its okay to not be okay fic #its okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #moon gang tae #ko mun yeong #emotional fic #I really felt things writing this #hope you enjoy part 2 #episode 18 #tell me your favorite line

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mikkomacko · 4 years

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Dear Daisy 6

Harry enjoys Saturdays. For the past two months, Saturdays have consistently been his day off from patrolling. Occasionally he'll get Sunday or Friday off as well, but he doesn't get his hopes up. It doesn't matter to him. He's completely fine only having Saturday off.

A shop in town (one he's yet to learn the name of because he's still confused by the French language), had a nice leather bound journal he'd bought the first week of being stationed in the city. It's similar to the one he'd left at home, the one he's comfortable with, so it makes writing his letters easy. Which is what Saturday is for. A letter to Daisy, a letter to Anne, a letter to Gemma, and a letter to Niall who's unable to fight due to his old knee injury. Today he gets through Anne's, Gemma's, and Niall's letters quickly. He's addressing one to Daisy when he pauses, recalling the letters she sent last week. Harry quickly flips to a blank page, scribbling the name of a man he's only spoken to a few times.

Dear Robin,

I wasn't sure you'd remember me after all these years. The last time we spoke I was about thirteen, right before my uncle started grooming me on the steel business. I've changed a lot since then which is why it was quite shocking to hear about you from Daisy. She told me of your generosity, a quality I'll always remember you for if the books in my library are anything to go by. I'd like to thank you for taking Daisy in while I'm away and distracting her with the gift of baking. She may not look it, but I know she gets awful lonely when she's left to herself too long. I remember a few years ago, when I was maybe seventeen or eighteen, I'd passed by her near the park where she was sitting in the grass, chatting with a pigeon. Of course I teased her for it. What kind of nutter talks to birds? But she'd gotten flustered and yelled at me, told me birds need friends too. She also mentioned being stood up by a boy from my mum's neighborhood so she was complaining to the bird. It wasn't really my business, as she so snottily put it, but I knew she was continuing to speak me because she was lonely. I suppose I'm glad that Bill whatever didn't show up that day.

I was worried about leaving her. Her family has hurt her. She wouldn't want to spend much time with them. And her friend Summer has taken up a babysitting job so her time with her is limited as well. Knowing she's enjoying her time with you brings me comfort. I can't thank you enough for watching over my love.

She told me of your son's and I'm sad to not know them very well. I'm sure they're just as wonderful as you if not more. Perhaps you could give me their names or where they're stationed and I could keep an eye out for them? I believe it's a fair deal; you watching my family and I'll watch yours?

Wishing you a happy fall and hoping the bakery stays busy,

Harry Styles.

The bakery is a big company in town so he doesn't need to ask for the address. Finishing up that letter and stuffing it into an envelope, a titter of giggles flows through the November air. Harry peeks up through his eyelashes, finding two girls in long coats not so subtly looking at him. A red head one wiggles her fingers at him, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Harry thinks she's the kind of bird they'd put on a postcard around here. With the Eiffel Tower behind her, trees turning autumn shades that compliment her hair. It's a nice picture, but not one he'd like to look at forever. French girls are pretty, but he prefers English. Particularly English girls with frizzy brunette curls and freckles on her nose and cheeks. Light brown eyes that stir like honey and drip warmth into his veins when they look at him, whether it be through tears of frustration or sparkles of adoration.

He ignores the girls, shifting his shoulders under his thick army coat. At least the uniform is warm. Harry turns back to the letter he had started writing to Daisy, teeth sinking into his chapped bottom lip as he continues to scribble.

Dear Daisy,

I've never enjoyed autumn. I find it uncomfortable. That brief period between the peek of life in the summer and the bittersweet end in the winter. The one thing that I do enjoy, is my mother's pumpkin soup. I'm glad Gemma visited you on Halloween and I'm glad you had so many pumpkins. I would say I'm jealous but I think that'd give you an edge over me so I'll admit to nothing. As for the fighter pilot girl, I wish I could have seen her. My father was a fighter pilot and I use to have a photo by my bed of him in his plane. One time I had a dream that my daughter flew planes, crossed oceans and looked down at mountain tops. She might've looked like that girl you saw. I can't know for sure seeing as I'm here and you're there. Again, I won't say I'm jealous, but do you think there's a chance she'll be a pilot again next year?

Anyway, I'm sitting on a bench in the grass around the Eiffel Tower right now and there's two girls watching me as if they'd have a chance. Suppose I should tell them I'm a married lad? Or should I let them dream? I reckon it'd rile you up if I didn't say anything so I'll stay silent. Who's jealous now aye?

Think I'll go to the bakery down the street after this. You've given me an awful craving with that dream of us in our house, dancing as your pies burn in the oven and my roast beef cooks to perfection. One of my bunk mates gets cookies sent to him from his mum. He likes to brag about it. Think ya could send me some oatmeal ones? Oughta show his mum who's boss.

I don't like raisins though. If there's raisins in my cookies I'll have no choice but to divorce you.

Until then, I hope you're staying warm. Niall told me he'd drop by sometime, check the heater and leave some firewood for you. I don't know if you'll need it but there's extra blankets in my closet as well. My nan knitted a nice green one for me a couple years ago. Spilled some tea on it once but it's awful nice. Feel free to use it. It'll keep ya warm at night. Not as warm as me of course, but it should suffice. If it doesn't you can go to the church and complain to my Nan's grave. Tell her Harry sent you and maybe she'll only hit you a few times.

Heard a rumor the other day that if things are still slow around here by December a few of us might be able to go home for a bit around the holidays. Don't get your hopes up too much but know I'm brown nosing the hell out of my sergeant for the next few weeks. It'd be nice to be able to hit you with a snowball. And it'd be nice to spend my first Christmas as a married man with my wife. I promise I'll keep updating you (only if you send me cookies). Don't tell my mum or sister, they'll try writing to my sergeant about sending me home and I don't need him knowing I'm a momma's boy.

I'll dream of you baking cookies tonight, tossing raisins into the trashcan just for me and I hope you dream of me sitting here, getting oggled by some Frenchies. Happy November love, enjoy this time in the twilight zone.

I'll be home soon Daisy, I promise

The Harry Styles x

Harry's week has gone by too slowly. Typically, roaming the streets of Paris or cleaning up around the base is enough to keep him from straying but not this week. Everything he does, everything he sees, everything he smells pushes his mind to Daisy. Mopping the kitchen floors reminds him of the day they worked together to clean her room. The trees remind him of how it felt to sit in the backyard with her, listening to her soft breaths as she worked on her blanket. The smell of the bakery, flour and cinnamon, remind him of her warmth and the cold air only makes him long for her even more. He doesn't think he's ever had such a terrible week, so he decides he'll push himself to do more next week. Initiative will definitely earn him a ticket home for Christmas, right?

He tries not to let himself get too discouraged as he collapses onto his cot, fingers clutching to the envelopes he received today as well as the medium sized box addressed to him. He's got a letter from his mother as well as Robin, but it's the one attached to the box that he goes for first.

Dear Harry,

French girls may have cute accents but can they make Robin's famous oatmeal cookies perfectly on their first try? I really hope not because then I've really got nothing going for me. Except for the fact that I've already got your last name of course.

I don't know how often you go see the Eiffel Tower but I'd appreciate a thorough description and rating of it from you please. I'd love to see the Eiffel Tower one day but I think I'd like to see the whole world too. Maybe your daughter will be a pilot and she can fly us all over the planet. If not, I'll have to divorce you myself. Assuming you haven't already divorced me by then. I think it would be funny if we divorced each other all the time. Then we could just keep getting married over and over again. I wouldn't mind it if you wore that suit you wore on our first wedding day. You looked really handsome. I was thinking of dragging Summer to town with me to get our wedding photo. If you're nice I'll send you one. If not, I'll save it for the holidays when you come home. I know you said not to get my hopes up but I also know you. You're a born leader Harry whether you like it not, and I'm positive you'll be allowed home.

I just realized something a bit funny. Home. Home used to be my parents house. The home I grew up in. Then I thought it’d be your house, the one I took over by planting flowers everywhere and actually cleaning. I don’t know what home is right now. I keep telling you to come home but what does that matter if I don’t even know where that is? Maybe I’m overthinking it. I hope you know your home Harry and I hope you’re able to come back to it.

Enjoy the cookies, I put extra extra raisins and love into them.

-Daisy o

Harry heart pounds, teeth biting at his bottom lip as he lays the letter down on his pillow and wiggles his finger under the seal on the box. Tearing it open, he fights back a smile at the smell of cookies that hits his nose. They’re not hot or anything, but they’re relatively fresh and wrapped up in a cute basket with green ribbon.

“What’d ya get Styles?” Pip, a bunk mate, asks from two cots over. Harry pulls the basket out, smirking at the other man.

“Gift from my girl,” he says proudly, chest puffing out “she’s a baker.” Pip chuckles at Harry’s sudden uplifted attitude, peeking at the cookies that do look quite delicious.

"Hope they're better than Frank's wife's." He makes a disgusted face and Harry laughs. Frank only shared his cookies once and they were bloody awful. He's never tried Daisy's baking but he's sure it's better. She's better than every other girl on the planet. How could her cookies not be better as well?

Harry tucks them safely into the little bedside table he has, glancing over her letter one more time because he loves her words before tucking it into the drawer that holds all his letters from her. He can't help but think of her claiming she knows him. If Daisy knew him as well as she thinks she does, then she'd know that his home isn't some silly house. And she'd know that he's her home. He's always been her home.

Time is supposed to heal. That's what Harry's always been told. The words first arose after his father died and he has blown them off for a long time. Until they rang true. Because one day Anne stopped crying, and people stopped leaving casseroles at the house, and Gemma started going on dates again, and Thomas showed up to chat with Harry more than he used to.

Time. Harry thinks he's pretty tolerant of time. He'd waited hours to speak to Daisy the first night he met her. He waited years to finally be more than the boy who almost killed her. And he's held onto two big secrets for all these years because he knows she'll need time before she can see him as someone she doesn't hate anymore. Years flew by so months should be a breeze. Right? Harry thinks so, but the two months away from Daisy are agonizing, and they're getting worse as days go by. Since when did November turn from 30 days to 300?

Extra training. Extra shifts. Extra work. Extra letters. Extra sleep. Yet nothing is helping to speed the process. He's gotten snippy (snippier than usual) to the point that he pissed off Frank for saying his wife's baking was "absolute shit" and he snapped at that red head girl in town for batting her eyelashes at him. There's a chance he told her she's skin to something the dog would drag in but he honestly can't bring himself to care at all. He just wants a moment with Daisy. Just one moment so he'll know that she's still is because sometimes he feels like he's been stuck at an army base his whole life and their marriage is all one big dream.

When the final day of November rolls around, Harry breathes a sigh of relief. He tells himself that he'll see her soon although he really doesn't know when soon will be.

He's hunched over a table in the cafeteria, hidden in the corner because he really doesn't want to talk to anyone, with his journal and mail sitting before him. He'd told his mum how hard the days were getting and she started sending letters more often, filling him in on random events and gatherings happening back home. He'd just gotten one yesterday talking about the neighbors starting a victory garden so he's a bit surprised to have another one so soon. Surprised, but grateful.

Dear Harry,

We've gotten more snow this week, enough for Niall to come over to shovel out the driveway for me. He stopped by your's and Daisy's home as well, insisting he help take care of "Harry's gals" as he put it. He's awful nice and I heard he's been checking in on Daisy often which is great.

I know you've really been missing her, and I hope this letter brings you comfort rather than heartache. Daisy is devastated without you. I do believe she's happy when she's at the bakery with Robin which I find simply wonderful, but there's multiple nights where she's shown up at my doorstep. She cries for you a lot, misses you more than I think you know. I think she sleeps better here. I always put her in your old bedroom and she's out like a light.

Please don't worry about her Harry. I'm glad she's come to me. She needs companionship and nurturing, both of which I can give. Know that she's safe and happy in your old room, and she's safe and happy with Robin. I know this may not be the happiest of news, but I want you to focus on the good part. Daisy misses you, and to miss you means she's gotten comfortable with you. She's cares about you Harry. I remember the days where I'd hear nothing but you bellyaching about her hating you. Think of how far you've come Harry, and use that happiness when things are tough.

We're all watching over Daisy and taking care of her. Now you take care of yourself, you've got a family waiting for you. I love you very much Harry, and I'm so proud of you.

-Mom

Harry's chest aches, bones collapsing with the image of his sweet Daisy dripping rain, crying in the middle of his mother's living room for him. He knows she's shy, and that she had a hard time being comfortable around his family. Not that he blames her. She was practically forced into the Styles family, so to know that she actually sought out Anne is heartbreaking. He's only ever seen cry a handful of times, all of them his doing, and the most dreadful time were her tears at their engagement party. She had looked so small and afraid, so desperate for safety that he genuinely hated himself at the time too. Because he did that to her. Well, not exactly, but he didn't fix the problem that was caused by his recklessness.

He can see that same look in her eyes. The one that came to mind when he was signing up for the army. Doe eyed, vulnerable, sweet, and innocent. Too precious for him to risk being hurt. He supposes he'd rather being crying over him than being crying over someone else's cruelty. At least if it's his fault he knows she's still safe. He'd never hurt her, not like the world would. Not like secrets between family members, and arranged marriages, and a German army would. No, he only teases her. It's his own stupid but relatively harmless way of getting back at her. She's been breaking his heart for years. He thinks it's fair that he gets to fluster her enough to tears sometimes.

But he never wanted her devastated and broken by his absence. Maybe he did his job too well. He somehow got her to be romantic with him after a decade of nothing but hatred. He cared for her, nurtured her, but then he had to leave, and that sheltered place he created for her left. He hopes she can find some sense of peace with his mother. Anne's always been the best mother anyone could ask for and Daisy could use that love right now.

Folding the letter back up, Harry decides he doesn't want to keep this one. While he feels appreciated and cared for because Daisy actually misses him, he doesn't want to have to be reminded of her teary eyes every time he comes across it. Harry's crumbling the letter up when another envelope is being thrown in front of him, smacking against the table top.

"What's this?" Harry asks gruffly, because the envelope is blank and thick so it couldn't have come in the mail. He looks up, heart jumping nervously when he's met with the eyes of his sergeant.

"Ticket home Styles," he says, lips quirking up under his thick mustache. "you've earned it. Taken on more work than necessary here. And I here you got a bird back home that doesn't want to spend Christmas alone."

Before Harry can say anything, sergeant is turning on his heel and heading towards the door. Harry stares in shock at the envelope, heart thumping in his ears. Pip had to have told sergeant about Daisy because that's the only guy Harry's ever talked to her about. After snapping at those French girls, he'd sat Harry down and told him to him everything. And he had. And now's he's got his ticket to Daisy. His ticket home.

#Dear Daisy #Harry Styles #soldier Harry #ww2 Harry #arranged marriage au #1930s Harry #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles au #alternate universe #enemies to lovers

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thorne93 · 3 years

Text

The Stars Made Us (Part 28)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2741

Warnings: angst and language throughout, seizure/medical complications

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong and @arrow-guy and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

Over a month had gone by since Stephen so painfully sent you away. Your work had picked up after a week and you went back to business as usual. You fell back into your role in the mansion quickly and easily and when no one was around, that's when you let yourself grieve the loss of your love with Stephen.

It was getting slightly better with time. And a large part of that was due to Charles. He was practically worshiping you every day. He surprised you with flowers quite a bit, cooked for you every now and then, took you to restaurants, made picnics. He bought you a few pieces of art you'd been eyeing. He even gave you foot rubs after the end of your long days.

He was your saving grace.

The two of you felt as if time hadn't passed at all for you. There was no lull in returning to your romantic lives together. You still loved him with all of your heart and nothing had changed that, not even the issues with Stephen.

One day, while you were working on a report for work, you got a call. You frowned, not recognizing the number, but picked it up anyway.

"Hello?"

"Y/N? It's Wong. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Wong, how are you?" you wondered, extremely worried as to why he was calling. You told him only to call you if there were issues with Stephen.

"I'm okay, but Strange isn't. He's... Well he's not himself."

"Isn't that a good thing?" you joked.

Of course, Wong didn't respond with any kind of laughter.

"In this case, no," he informed.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Well he took the position as protector of the New York Sanctum."

"Mhm."

"He's doing that fine, he's just not... You might just want to see for yourself."

"Wong, I told you to call for emergencies. If he's just in a bad mood--"

"He won't talk," he said. "He always had something to say before. Some joke, some horrible crack to make. Now, he doesn't speak. He talks to me about the sanctum, but that's it."

You frowned. That was unusual.

"I'd like to help, Wong, I would, but Stephen cast me out. He doesn't want me around."

"I don't know what he told you before, but he lied. The moment you left, it was like someone drained the life force out of him. I've been sending him new books to learn, to keep up with his training, but when I check in on him, it's like he's in a fog. He hasn't read, or what he has read, he doesn't retain."

You chewed on your lip. "Okay, I'll see what I can do. New York sanctum?"

"Yes, he's there 24/7, never leaves."

-------------------------

You got home that night and Charles greeted you cheerily, as he always did. Kissing you sweetly before showing you to the dinner he had made. Hank was working late tonight out at a military base.

"I got a call today," you informed as you began to pick around the roast beef on your plate.

"Oh? Who from?"

"Wong."

Charles stilled momentarily, and he hoped you didn't catch it, but you did. He went back to eating.

"What'd he have to say?"

"He wants me to come see Stephen."

Charles put his fork down and gave you his full attention. "Has something happened? Is he alright?" he asked, concerned.

"I think he's okay mentally. He told me that I suppose he can't focus, that he's a bit of an emotional wreck." You sounded almost confused. "Why, I don't know, he's the one that sent me away."

"Do you want to go to him?" he asked softly.

You chewed your lip. "I don't know. Yes, and no. I want to see him. I want to make him feel better. I want to talk about why he was cruel. But I also can't take it again if he just turns me away, if he's as hateful as he always is when it comes to me."

"You know I support you either way?" he said as he reached across the table and held your hand.

You nodded, fighting back tears. "I know, and I love you for it."

"What does your gut say?" he inquired, staring at you with those dreamy blue eyes that made you melt.

"I feel like I want to see him, but..."

"But what? Talk to me," he urged.

You pressed your lips together, worried about what you were about to tell him. "I love him too. I don't want to have to choose."

He nodded. "I know, my dove. While I would be over the moon if you were mine, and mine alone, I also understand that the universe has granted you two souls to love, and two souls to love you back. When you made visits to me from Nepal, that felt quite alright. Of course I'd rather have you here, but if you need to split your time between us, I understand and support that."

Happy tears went down your cheek as you peered at him.

"Thank you so much."

"Of course, darling. I would never, ever, make you choose. Whatever your heart desires, it's yours."

You got up and went to hug him. He hugged you back, tightly, pulling you into his lap. You were crying, kissing him, and hugging him. The stars truly blessed you when you got Charles Xavier as your mate.

The next morning, you decided to make your way into the city to see Stephen. You had no idea what you'd find, what you would say or do, what he would say or do. All you wanted to ask, was why he made you leave, so forcefully, when everything seemed so perfect.

While you were driving to the sanctum, you were white knuckling the whole way. You were so nervous about seeing him again, nervous that he'd turn you away.

You arrived at the sanctum, sucking in a breath before knocking. You could feel yourself break out in a cold sweat, your heart hammering in your chest.

The door opened and you saw Stephen. His eyes narrowed quickly, taken aback by your presence.

He looked so much more beautiful than you remembered. His cuts from the fight had healed. Surprisingly, when you saw him, happiness flooded you. You didn't think that would happen.

"Y/N?"

"Hi, Stephen. Can I come in?" you asked.

"Uh, sure." He moved out of the way and invited you in, where you stood at the bottom of those large stairs.

"I see you got the place all cleaned up," you remarked.

"Yeah, uh, Wong helped. Mordo quit the program. After he learned about the Ancient One's power, he felt like he'd been lied to," he informed.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. But you're sticking around?"

"I am. I had an encounter that made me see that you and Christine were right about me saving lives that doesn't require a medical degree."

You smiled slightly. "I'm glad to hear that. Whatever makes you happy. Um, Kaecilius, is he?"

"Dead. Him and his followers. We sort of gave them up to Dormammu."

"That dark entity? You encountered him?"

He gave a slight laugh. "That's one way to put it, yeah."

"What happened?" you inquired, pressing him for more information.

"Long story short, we went to Hong Kong. I had to use the eye of Agmatto to turn back time, to fix things, to bring Wong back. We realized that if we did that though, we'd only have to keep fighting Kaecilius. So, we went after the source, or rather, I did."

You took a step closer to him. "Stephen, what did you do?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes staring into yours. "I faced Dormammu."

"You did what?" you gasped. "How--How did you survive? What did you do? Jesus, Stephen."

"You used to have so much faith in me," he quipped with a smirk.

"And I still do, but I don't approve of anyone putting themselves in the line of danger."

"I had to."

"What'd you do?"

"I... I created a time loop, and trapped him in it endlessly. He killed me, over, and over, but the time loop reset. Basically, I annoyed him so much that he agreed to leave Earth alone."

"That sounds about right. You pestering a dark entity so much that they beg you to leave them alone. Only the great Dr. Stephen Strange could do that." You gave a weak smile. "What did the Ancient One do? Was she helpful? Did she give you the idea to do that or...?"

"She... she died. We were fighting Kaecilius and she fell from a great height and hit the ground. She died before we ever went to Hong Kong to fight. She was the reason I decided to stick around, do something more meaningful with my life."

"I see... I'm so sorry. I'm sure that wasn't easy," you said, starting to reach towards him but then you began to lower your arm.

He grabbed your hand and held it in his. "I've missed you," he suddenly confessed.

"And I you."

In a shaky voice, he said, "I missed you so much, I, uh, I came to visit you."

"Was I not home?"

"Uh, you didn't know I came by," he informed. "I used my astral form."

You nodded slowly. "You spied on me?"

"No, not quite. I just... I came by to make sure you were okay. I went once to your work. I went another time to your home."

"You did? But why?"

"Because I missed you so much," he said, his voice thick as tears came to his eyes. He smiled down at you before his hand came up to rest against your neck, his thumb stroking your chin. "I'm so sorry I invaded your privacy, I just had to see you. I had to know how you were doing."

You let out a sigh. "And what did you find?"

He let out a bit of a sigh, the tears now rolling down his cheeks. "I saw you, standing at your bedroom window. It was pouring down rain. Charles was in bed, fast asleep. You were standing at the window, talking to yourself."

You sighed, your own tears now. You remembered that night.

"What... what did you hear?" you managed to ask before taking a deep breath.

"I heard you asking yourself why I made you leave. I heard you asking why I didn't want you any more. I heard you asking what you'd done. I heard you churning it over and over in my mind what happened. It broke my heart to see you that way. To see what I'd done to you."

You took a deep breath. "Uh, um, but if you have missed me, why did you leave me? Why did you kick me out of your life?" you asked, shaking your head. "I mean if it really killed you to see me that way, why not just come visit me in your normal body and talk to me? Tell me what happened? How do you go from telling me I was just one giant distraction to caring about me? You told me you wanted him out of your life and then you come and see me? That doesn't make any sense. What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing," he assured, smiling at me as he cried. Both of his hands were resting on either side of your face. "You did absolutely nothing wrong. You did everything right. That was the problem."

You were crying more now, shaking your head. "I don't understand."

"I... I pushed you away because I saw you almost die, protecting me. You almost died because of a situation I put us directly in. You were pinned to the floor by a blade. You bled out and passed out next to me. You carried me to a hospital to my ex lover. You put everything aside, just to protect and save me. When I saw you and I saw how determined you were to get back and help me, but I felt so responsible. I had to kill a man to protect both of us. You nearly died. I didn't want that again. I don't want to put you in that position, ever again."

"I'd do it, happily, though," you informed, staring up at him.

"I know," he said, laughing slightly. "That's what the issue is. You're so ready to do so much for everyone else, and I can't risk that."

You looked down, feeling your heart break all over again.

"But I can't live without you either," he said, dipping his face slightly so he could see your eyes.

You looked up at him, surprised. "Me either. I've been thinking about you non-stop. For the life of me, I can't figure it out but I miss your smart-assed comments."

"Y/N, I love you."

"I love you," you said.

The two of you searched each other's eyes before you threw your arms around his neck and you collided your lips with his. Feeling alive again at the feeling of it. He kissed you back fervently, holding you close to him.

"Be with me," he requested when he let you go.

You nodded, feeling a light growing inside you. "I can do that. That's easy. Charles already said that he doesn't mind sharing if that's what I want."

He shook his head. "No, I-- I mean just be mine."

You took a step back from him. "Stephen, I--"

"Hear me out," he begged. "What if... What if the universe got it wrong? What if Charles isn't your soulmate? Or what if he's supposed to be your first but I'm supposed to be your last? Maybe there's a reason he and I showed up at the times we did."

"I--I don't think..." You shook your head, letting go of him. "No, that can't be right. It's not right," you affirmed.

"How do you know that? You don't. No one knows anything about having duel soulmates - no one. It is completely unique to you."

"Yeah maybe the phenomenon, but not how I feel. Soulmates or not, I am still very much in love with Charles, just as much as I love you. I can't choose between you, please don't make me. Charles isn't. Don't make me do that... I can't."

"But don't you see? What if this is the way it's supposed to be?" he pleaded, getting closer to you again, putting his hand behind your head. "What if Charles was your beginning, and I respect that, I do, but what if I'm your end?"

You shook your head.

"I don't know. I can't..."

"You can't say one way or the other if that's what it's supposed to be."

All you could do was panic, feeling trapped. What if he was right? What if you were just tied to Charles from all the history you had? Of course you still loved him. You were just as in love as before. Was it even possible that they weren't supposed to occupy your life at the same time? Maybe you weren't supposed to choose. Maybe you were supposed to move on.

But that just didn't feel right. You felt happiest when you had them both in your life.

"Stephen, I... I'm so sorry, but I just don't believe that. I love you, I do, but I can't choose, I won't choose. Charles is okay with sharing me, so either you are okay too or..." You trailed off, making the implication clear.

He let go of you, stepping back, he still held onto your hands, but barely as he continued to put more distance between you two.

"Then I can't do this," he said sorrowfully. "I can't have it both ways. I just want you all to myself, so if you can't give me that..."

"You'd rather not have me at all than share me?" you asked in shock, gasping from the pain.

"I'm sorry, but I want all of you. I don't want to have to fight for your attention."

"You wouldn't."

"That's how it would feel." He picked up your hands, bringing both to his lips, kissing them. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I love you. Please come see me again if you change your mind."

He let you go and walked away, leaving you standing alone.

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

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#the stars made us #charles xavier x reader #stephen strange x reader #charles xavier #stephen strange fic #charles xavier fic #stephen strange

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #384

“watch your tongue or have it cut from your head”

Do you post to say happy birthday on other people’s walls? Sometimes. Depends on my mood and the person. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? Idr. What’s your favorite television commercial? I don't watch TV enough at all to have one. And who has a favorite commercial, anyway? Do you trip a lot? I don't really trip a lot, but kinda fumble over my footing and stray a bit. I'm horrible at walking straight, and it's gotten worse as my legs have. How old is your television? The one in the living room is god knows how old. My parents were still together when they bought it. When did you last talk on the phone with someone? A couple days ago for my appointment with my psychiatrist. Are you currently sleepy? I'm quite convinced I'm permanently tired. Are you hot or cold natured? I am ALWAYS fucking hot, ugh. Do you take any advanced classes? I took mostly Honors classes in school. Do you have weak upper body strength? My body is just weak as a whole. What is the worst insult someone can call you? Emotionally weak. Are you good at sketching? If we're talking meerkats, haha. They're the only complex thing that I can freehand no problem without needing a reference, honestly. Ever play Angry Birds? Nah. I thought the movie was cute, though. Have you ever been to the zoo before? Yeah. Has anyone ever been weirdly obsessed with you? No. Are you afraid someone might steal your identity someday? It's not something I actively worry about at all. Like, you don't want my identity, I promise. Do you have any talents that come naturally? Growing up, adults always told me I was a "gifted" artist and writer. Also that I seem to have an unnaturally strong connection with animals. I've always been that person where a pet's owner is like "omg ____ never lets people do that" and whatnot. Have you ever had plastic surgery before? I haven't. It's funny though, how opposed to it I used to be... Like goddamn, I was such a fucking stupid and honestly judgmental teenager, regarding many things. I look back on her and cringe. Like damn dude, if you have a safe surgical procedure to help you enjoy the body you're stuck with the rest of your life, you go for it, boo. Are you afraid of airplane rides? Not really. What’s the best Valentine’s Day gift you’ve gotten? There was this one year where Jason had to go to work on Valentine's Day and I was super bummed, yet he still surprised me with a heart-shaped box of chocolates, roses, and a game I really wanted, Heavy Rain. I thought it was the sweetest. What is something you lose often? My phone. ;-; Do you enter a lot of sweepstakes? I don't enter any. Do you consider yourself physically active? *chuckles nervously* Do you have Netflix? Yeah. Favorite salad dressing? That Olive Garden replica you can buy at the store. Do you enjoy dancing? Once upon a time I did. My body could never handle it now. Have you ever considered writing a novel? Many times. Snow or sand? Snow, by twenty thousand miles. It is VERY hard for me to walk through sand, and I also hate hate hate hate HATE the sensation. Do you like sour candy? Heeeeeell yeah man. Have you gotten any injuries lately? If so, what & how? Nothing notable. Are you a clumsy person? Like you would not fucking believe. Last male you talked to in person? I think my primary physician's nurse. Are you thinking about asking anyone out? No. Pink lemonade or regular lemonade? Pink lemonade, for sure. But I love both. Chocolate or strawberry milk? CHOCOLATE. Strawberry milk is disgusting. Have you ever won a contest on the radio?No. Is there a song that reminds you of your best friend? There's quite a few. Has a book ever made you cry? Yes. Do you automatically check your phone when you wake up? Yes, for the time. Do you know anyone who has a pet bunny? Not that I'm aware. What store or website would you most like a gift card for? Rebel's Market. How do you feel about wolves? I adore wolves. Beautiful, majestic creatures with very interesting social dynamics. Name your top 3 favorite musical instruments. Electric guitar, violin, piano. What was the last book(s) you bought at a bookstore? At an actual bookstore, I think it was The Fault In Our Stars, which I never actually read. Do you use Pinterest? Yes. Do you know any sign language? No. Do you have a favorite poem? No. Do you have a dog? No. The one we were pretty much stuck with has a home now. Have you ever read The Little House on the Prairie series? I haven't. Have you ever gone on a service trip to an underprivileged country? No. Have you ever performed in front of more than 100 people? Yes, for dance. When (if ever) was the last time you went to church? Forever ago, I don't even remember the last time. What's a quote you think is really powerful? There's a whole lot. The first one that came to mind was, "An eye for an eye will leave the world blind," which I do believe has great depth in it. Have you ever had to do your laundry at a laundromat? Yes. Are you the oldest person who lives in your household? No. My mom is turning 60 (... I think?) this year. If you have tattoos, how long have you had them? I got my first the day I turned 18. Do you and your dad have similar personalities? We're alike in some ways, imo most notably in that we have NO fucking common sense, embarrassing as that is to admit. We're both kinda slow at understanding things, too. What were the last three things you had to drink? Mountain Lightning, milk, and water. What did your family usually do for Easter when you were a kid? Us three kids all got Easter baskets full of stuff, and we'd go egg-hunting when we were all awake. My little sister Nicole would always wake our parents up in excitement, haha. My parents hid plenty throughout the house, and there was always this one "special" egg that was actually from Mom's childhood and was extremely intricate and beautiful. You basically "won" the hunt if you found it, and it was extremely well-hidden. When you have house guests over, where do they sleep? Historically since living here, my two half-sisters and their spouses (the only people who've stayed over) slept in what is *technically* Mom's room, but for whatever reason this woman still insists on sleeping on the couch in the living room, I guess because she's used to it after all the years she didn't have her own room and bed. Are you emotionally stable? LOLOOLOLOOLLOLOOLOOLOLLOOLOLLLLLLLLLLL Do you still talk to the very first person you had sex with? No. Are you an atheist? No. I don't quite know how to define what I am, but since I believe there's SOME higher power, I don't think it's fitting to call me an atheist. What’s the largest bug you’ve ever found in your house? Hm... I'm unsure. Probably a male mosquito, 'cuz them bitches are big'ins. Would it annoy you if a stranger called you "sweetie?" If it was a man, I'd be creeped out. Are you into fashion design? Not really. What’s the worst thing you’ve gone through in the past year? My leg muscles continuing to degrade, honestly. I have to do something about this shit. How did you get your last bruise? I fell when stepping over the stupid dog gate. Have your parents ever forgotten your birthday? Yikes, no. Would you rather have some bacon or beef jerky? Bacon. Do you like your orange juice with lots or no pulp? NONE. Do you wear skinny jeans? Back when I wore jeans, they were the only kind I wore. What projects are you doing now for school? I'm outta school. What’s the most number of comments you have on a Facebook picture? What is the picture of? I have no idea. Do you like coconut flavored things? No. Have you ever met a famous author before? No. Do you know anybody who has been raped before? No, thank god. I know someone who might've almost been, though. I don't know what the fucking pig was going to do to her if my sister and I weren't there. Have you ever wished for bigger boobs? No. Being overweight, I just want smaller ones now, haha. Have you ever gone a full day without interacting with another person? I've gone many days without it. How many relationships have you been in that lasted less than a year? Four, if you're counting everyone that had the "boyfriend" title. Where were you going the last time you were on a plane? Home from Illinois. Where were you going the last time you were on a train? I've never been on one. Have you ever been significantly more physically fit than you are now? Holy fuck, yes. You would never guess now that I was perfectly healthy in high school especially, yet I still thought I was kinda fat. It hurts so much to look back on. When growing up, did you parents keep the house very tidy? I mean not excessively, but Mom was pretty dedicated to keeping the house in decent condition. With three kids though, of course the house was somewhat messy with toys and all. When you shop at IKEA, do you always stop to eat a snack/meal in the cafeteria? ... There's a fucking cafeteria in a furniture store? o_o I've never been there before. How many watches do you own? None, save for one in my "treasure box" from when I was a kid. I was SO SO SO obsessed with Finding Nemo that I kept my broken one. I did the same with my horribly aged sneakers, like the soles were coming off and Mom finally made me stop wearing them, ha. Are there any ways in which you greatly differ from everyone else in your family? I do fucking nothing and am useless to society. Should teenagers be allowed to have their cell phones with them in class? Yes, because emergencies happen. I personally think it's best to maybe have your cell phone flipped over on the corner of your desk or something and on vibrate, that way the noise isn't too disruptive and the teacher can see you're not just using it for other purposes. Do you have any gay relatives? Yes. Have you ever had to have a pet put down? Sigh, multiple. Have you unfollowed, deleted, or blocked anyone on social media recently? If so, what was the reason? Not recently. How many cups of coffee do you typically drink per day? None. Do you know what your vocal range is? No, but it's not very broad. What’s the biggest financial mistake you’ve ever made? I haven't been in this position before. Have you ever been in a relationship where there was a large difference in maturity levels? No. What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed as a guest at someone’s house? I wanna say over a month while we were technically homeless. How bad was your acne when you were a teenager? Oh dear, it was rough. Like there were people who had it worse than me, but ya girl was lookin preeeetty rough lmao.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''hail to the king'' by avenged sevenfold

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kdtheghostwriter · 4 years

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The Dust Up in Jaku

You sure are!

Okay, housekeeping first. I don’t often go here. In fact, this is my first proper visit. I’m caught up with the manga entirely to be clear. I just don’t always go looking for feedback. This blog is miscellaneous, tailored mostly to my whims at the time, but it’s known primarily for its monthly posts on Shingeki no Kyojin. That series is ending soon. These posts have been for practice primarily. A way for me to keep my writing chops warm for other projects. They’ve been incredibly helpful in that regard. I’m not sure yet what I’ll do to supplement that practice after the series conclusion. I don’t see myself doing monthly meta posts anymore. I started doing One Punch Man write ups a couple years ago and doing the occasional meta for big plot developments is probably the ticket. But then there’s BNHA.

My Hero Academia is a bit more…shall we say ‘aggressive’ in its storytelling. That’s what I’ve seen in this latest arc anyway. I’m a fan. And I figured, hey, I can dip a pinky toe in the fandom for a bit. So, before reading any further, please note that this will read as the perspective of a reader that has one eye on the story and doesn’t spend a great amount of time in the discourse.

Okay so let’s start with the obvious or what should be the obvious. Bakugo isn’t dead just yet. If for no other reason than Gran Torino getting spiked by Shigaraki only to supply a sassy quip moments later. You don’t die in a shonen series without permission. Besides that, though, no one I’ve seen seems to be asking the important question here.

What is All For One’s idea?

We saw him reach out to Tomura who was himself on the verge of death and took full control of his body. Those telltale black tendrils have seldom caused bodily harm on their own and there’s little evidence to believe they’d start now. We then can make one of two assumptions.

Quirk theft: AFO has the ability to steal and redistribute quirks and Shigaraki made clear that stealing One For All was his main goal in this fight outside of surviving. Bakugo is one of the few people who know about this secret war and he more than anyone there would recognize that losing OFA to Tomura would be in the nicest terms a disaster.

Forced Quirk Activation: Considering that Kacchan is a walking napalm bomb, this is another possible disaster. Using a massive explosion to escape the battlefield at this moment has some very “I’ll get you next time, Gadget!” energy.

And Tomura has to escape this. I’ll explain that later. But first I must laugh.

No, that’s not Garou after his first hour in the Monster Association. Tomura has been annihilated over the course of this fight. He’d probably be dead two or three times over if it weren’t for his fancy Deadpool Healing Factor which itself wouldn’t be working if Eraser Head wasn’t out of commission.

Shout-outs to Aizawa by the way. There’s a reason Tomura stopped in the middle of the battle to tell him how cool he was.

Anyway, more to the point: Shigaraki can’t beef it here. Don’t get me wrong, as tragic as his story is, there really is no other option currently than to destroy him. The only other course of action is to say, “Please, Tomura, don’t make this entire city and the innocent people living there disappear into dust.” Which…yea. On top of that, he’s the series antagonist and the clear foil for our hero Deku. Narratively it just wouldn’t make sense to have him climb that mountain before he’s ready. And he’s still not ready. His arms are thrashed yet again from his current onslaught.

For anyone having trouble visualizing this, imagine Shiggy as a red rubber ball and Deku is a paddle, smacking him repeatedly. I have this great picture in my head of the news chopper zoomed in on Deku as he calls out every state and major city in the contiguous United States. Jokes aside, the art is phenomenal. This panel in particular really hammers home the aforementioned duality like so many haymakers to the face. The damage is stacking up faster than his regeneration can supply but All For One has stepped in to take the reins, surely saving his neck but that isn’t the only reason Shiggy will see his way out of this spot.

Yeah! Remember him? This big fucker is still on his way. And he’s got the League of Villains in tow. Why is that detail important?

The only thing more important than a major plot event like this is the aftermath. You can easily develop your characters through the way they react to the events that occur to them. Somebody has to break it to Tomura that Twice is gone and I don’t envy the one who gets that job.

Also…lol okay, I don’t wanna do the trolly thing of “oooh Dabi’s a Todoroki!” but c’mon man Dabi’s a Todoroki. I’ve barely paid attention to this subplot and even I know that. Shonen series are by their nature very melodramatic and it would only make sense for such a massive bombshell to be dropped now, in the midst of life-or-death struggle, with direct implications for the Number One Hero and his children – one on each side of the law. Point is! None of that can happen if Shigaraki bites the big one so I’d expect the dusty lad to keep kicking for now.

The same goes for Bakugo, although, he may have early retirement in his future. The main reason Kacchan can’t die here is because, despite what you may think of him as a character – and I’ve seen enough discourse to know that many many people are not fans, such is your right – having a teenaged bully redeem himself by sacrificing his life is a bit much. Especially when you consider this little nugget.

All Might has him pegged here. I would never endorse someone telling another person to kill themselves even when done ironically but Katsuki was a child and children say any manner of dumb, reckless things. More than that, children lash out when they’re scared, and nothing scared him more than being surpassed by Midoriya. All Might goes on to point out that Bakugo earnestly helping with Izuku’s training is his way of atoning for his past behavior. I agree with that stance and I think it’s more than enough. He knows he was wrong and more recently he’s discovered that he knows he wants no harm to come to Deku. Bakugo learned a big lesson in this chapter; by extension, Deku must learn a lesson as well.

Then there’s this geek.

Disclaimer: I don’t hate Endeavor so much as I’m apathetic towards him. He’s the Number One hero by default and it shows throughout this arc. Even here, we see the rookie Kacchan barking orders at him and Shoto and coming up with a pretty solid plan to finally end this damn fight. It didn’t work, but that has more to do with outside interference than inexperience, and it’s not like Endeavor was rapt with ideas to begin with.

I will defend him slightly, however. Some people have gone so far as to call him useless in this fight and I wouldn’t. Shigaraki got a massive buff even if he’s only at 75% capacity. Enhanced speed and strength, plus a healing factor means he has a threshold that Endeavor just can’t overcome. The days of one guy taking on the Final Boss is long past gone. Even so, this must be pretty mortifying for a guy so obsessed with climbing the ladder. His second real test as the top hero and he gets his ass kicked for an hour or more by a shaggy kid who forgot his lip balm at home. LOL is what I’m saying.

Thanks for indulging that aside. Back to Deku. The very first panel of this chapter is a nurse warning him that repeated injuries could result in him losing the use of his arms. Naturally, this follows with Deku smashing Shigaraki in the face five or six times in a row. The combination of Float and Black Whip is keeping the villain suspended in the air where his disintegration quirk can’t reach the support team below. A fact that Deku points out when Bakugo shouts at him to disengage. This is a great bit of dramatic tension, because neither one is wrong. Izuku’s body is falling apart. I mean, Tomura’s is too, but Tomura can lowkey ignore that and if he reaches the ground, everyone is screwed anyway.

This plays into Bakugo forming the plan with the Todorokis in the first place and then intercepting AFO’s attack on behalf of the helpless Deku. He sees One For All as a cursed power, but he’s smart enough to know that this power is the only chance they have of winning. He then saves his friend to help them win.

Now we come to the bit that has me more interested than even Kacchan’s fate. That being Izuku’s reaction, both in the moment and after the battle is done. As previously noted, Deku is not in less danger now. He’s emptying the tank right here despite possible long-term damage to his body.

The implications of that statement are terrifying. More so coming from a teenaged boy that hasn’t even made it through a third of his life yet. The legacy of OFA is dark and bloody. It was Bakugo who pointed out that the previous holders of the super strength quirk all died young – all murdered at the hands of Tall, Dark and Faceless. Toshinori would have suffered the same fate if it weren’t for a time sensitive cocktail of rage, survival instinct and adrenaline. Deku is sipping from that same cocktail right now and he’s in better shape than All Might was (barely) but it’s clear that he cannot 1v1 a boss with a replenishing health bar. Perhaps if he could sustain an attack without his limbs exploding like Squidward after too many Krabby Patties? Oh well.

My Hero Academia is an origin story. The story of the hero Deku and his journey to number one. With that in mind, we know he can’t lose but he doesn’t necessarily have to win. Not here at the very least. I have no clue how this arc resolves itself but finding out is going to be much fun.

#bnha meta #bnha 285 #my hero acadamy #izuku mydoria #katsuki bakugo #tomura shigaraki #shoto todoroki #toshinori yagi #all might #endeavor #i whip my nemesis back and forth

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trashassassin · 3 years

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Two Halves of a Whole | 6: Impressions and Honesty (Vergil x Reader)

LORDT. The original prompt that inspired this one was “hairbrush spankings” and the idea got completely away from me, but in a good way, I’d reckon. I swear to god I didn’t mean to make it this long, and yet, here we all are.

In this installment, you and Vergil finally begin to reconcile after the mysterious happenings that have yet to be named that I’m sure everyone has already figured out by now, with the help of everyone’s favorite beverage: red wine. Or my favorite, anyway.

Extremely heavy on the fluff. Like, this is on par with some of my Leon stuff, if I’m being honest.

Word Count: 4780 (jfc)

Warnings: Mild Language, Suggestive Themes, Sweet and Fluffy as Cotton Candy

At last, the day had come that Vergil would return to your apartment, only this time, not in a dream, as he had the previous time. You'd finally gotten him to sit down with you and have an honest conversation about what happened, in no small part due to Dante's incessant urgings.

You were aware that they had been selfishly motivated. The fact of the matter was, he simply couldn't take the two of you constantly hovering around each other any longer, waiting for the other to speak first.

You had also found yourself growing fed up with the whole thing, but Dante had you beat in the confrontation department by far, so he had been the first to speak up. And a part of you was glad that he did. But another part was terrified of where it would take you.

You were well aware of the fact that your coffee table had gotten suitably clean quite some time ago, and yet, you continued to rub the cloth over it as though a prize would pop out from its surface, stopping to glance up at the clock every so often.

How surprised you were to find that only another single minute had passed each time.

You'd been attempting to occupy your mind with meaningless tasks to stop it from racing. This would be the first time you would be properly alone with Vergil and this thought scared you, even if you weren't entirely sure why.

Your fear of confrontation definitely had a lot to do with it. Raw, honest conversation was no more a strong suit of yours than it was of his and you were worried that the two of you would spend the entire evening silently staring at the wall.

So, that was it. You were pacing around your apartment in terror, your heart beating out of your chest, because you were afraid of a bit of awkwardness.

Once you'd finally accepted the cleanliness of your furniture, you made a quick run upstairs to deposit the cleaning cloth into the laundry hamper before you forgot, because nothing would make him get fed up with you and go home like a single, out of place washcloth cluttering up your living space.

You rolled your eyes at your thought process, but if you left the cloth out, you knew that it would be the only thing you'd be able to focus on for the entire evening.

As you reached your bedroom, your mind was bombarded with another slew of issues.

Was it inviting enough? It had been a long time since you'd had anyone up there, so making it presentable wasn't at the forefront of your mind anymore. But it was a bit presumptuous of you to act as though he was going to see it, wasn't it? Was it even advisable for the two of you to sleep together at this point?

You suddenly had a great many questions, none of which anyone, least of all yourself, could give you an answer to.

You would have to play this entire thing by ear. There was no guide you could follow, and there was certainly no way you could predict his reactions to anything given the way he'd been behaving thus far.

Still, you decided it couldn't hurt to tidy up your room a bit just in case. You even brought out the scented candles again for the first time in quite a while and lit one before heading back downstairs.

You were reasonably satisfied that everything was in order, though you were sure that you would find something that was out of place after he'd arrived.

You had to stop and consider what your end goal was here. It wasn't as though it were necessary to impress him. If anything, he should be the one scrambling to make a good impression on you.

And yet, even after everything that had happened, all of your worries boiled down to the simple fear that he wouldn't like you anymore. You found him a bit intimidating now, even if it was irrational. For all intents and purposes, he was the same person he had been, but you found yourself questioning more often than you would have liked if you were still worthy of him. He was so powerful and you were so, well, ordinary, and that was a fact about you that would never change.

You did want to impress him; you wanted that very much. But you were also afraid of overdoing it. You didn't want to appear desperate.

You were even considering whether or not preparing a meal would be seen as excessive. Surely, that was the polite thing to do whenever one was expecting guests, so you put your insecurities aside in favor of common sense.

You'd hardly eaten anything all day, given the fact that your nerves had your stomach tied in knots, so this would benefit you as well as him. There wasn't a whole lot that sounded palatable right now, so you would have to decide on a dish that you had the ingredients for and would also be able to force down once it was finished.

You opened the fridge and sighed. How long had it been since you'd gone grocery shopping? Much too long, clearly. Such mundane tasks had fallen by the wayside as of late.

But, you did have a few things left. As you examined the ingredients before you, you came up with a plan. Spaghetti would be good. It was inoffensive, mindless, and not too showy.

You took out everything you would need—a package of ground beef, which you made sure to sniff in case it had gone off, a couple of onions, and some bell peppers—then brought them over to the counter so that you could begin to prepare them.

As you went to close the fridge, you noticed something else that may be of use to you: a bottle of red wine that you'd purchased quite some time ago sitting atop its surface. You'd never been much of a drinker, but you figured that there had never been a more appropriate time than now to break it open.

Perhaps this was a bit shameful, but at this point, you would have done just about anything to take the edge off while you waited.

You opened the bottle and poured yourself a glass, then got to work.

Cooking was typically a relaxing activity for you, one of several hobbies that whisked you away from the outside world, if only temporarily, but on this particular evening, it had no such effect. You took a large gulp of your wine and considered your options.

Perhaps some music would help. You lifted your phone and scrolled through it a bit to find a playlist that would set you more at ease.

You went with something instrumental before returning your attention back to your chopping.

You took a sideways glance at the clock on the stove once you'd finished with the onion. You still had a good thirty minutes left, and you weren't sure if this should make you feel relieved or concerned. What you did feel, however, was a healthy mix of both.

At least you wouldn't have to rush through your cooking.

You were already beginning to feel the effects of the wine once you'd finished chopping all of the vegetables. Your heart had stopped racing, at least, but you were beginning to worry about embarrassing yourself by the time you'd finished the entire glass.

But, as you thought about it more, you supposed the time for embarrassment was over. The two of you had already been brutally honest with each other and you figured that there wasn't much either of you could say at this point that would drive the other away.

You tried to convince yourself of this as you continued with your cooking.

Is spaghetti too boring? What if he doesn't like it? Does he even need to eat? I've never seen him eat before. Dante definitely seems to like eating. But what if he only does it because he wants to appear more human?

You slammed your utensils down on the counter and took a deep breath, willing yourself to relax. You were going to survive even in the event that he didn't enjoy your spaghetti.

But it wasn't about the spaghetti, and you knew that. You recognized that your choice of what to serve for dinner was much less consequential than, well, everything else, so it was much easier to give that all of your focus as it was something you could easily control.

You set the ground beef on the stove to brown, then finished off your glass of wine and contemplated getting another. No, you would save that for when he arrived, if he wanted one as well. You didn't want to be the only one drinking, and you certainly didn't want to be the only one drunk.

What would that be like? You had a lot of difficulty imagining a scenario in which Vergil would have the time, let alone the desire, to get drunk and you were very curious as to how such a thing would affect him.

You almost wished you'd asked Dante for advice before going through with this, but realized that you never would have, even when you had the opportunity to do so. You had too much pride for that, which you accepted as one of your weaker points. So much of your current dilemma would be easily solved by speaking up and asking the right questions.

You promised yourself that you would finally start doing this when you saw Vergil tonight.

The dinner preparations were going exactly according to plan and you were relieved that you'd managed to finish everything up with a little over five minutes to spare. You were even more relieved that you'd managed to make it all the way through without going for a second glass of wine.

You'd mixed together a salad while the sauce was cooking and were in the process of setting everything up on the coffee table when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart leapt into your throat.

"Just a second," you called out.

He'd arrived exactly at your agreed upon time and not a single second before or after, so you were glad that you'd given yourself so much leeway in getting everything prepared.

You finished up the last of these preparations, then took a deep breath and went to answer the door.

You weren't exactly sure what you had been expecting to see on the other side, apart from the obvious, but you were immediately struck by just how ordinary he looked standing there. He was wearing much more average clothes now, his outfit consisting of a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of dark jeans.

So, he hadn't lost his propensity for all black clothing. This amused you, but you tried not to show it.

"Hi," you said, and he simply nodded in response. "Uh, come in."

You motioned him inside and he stepped across the threshold, still not saying a single word, or even taking a moment to acknowledge you.

Yes, the wine had been a good idea after all, it would seem.

"I made dinner, if you're hungry." You stood beside the coffee table and stared down at it. "To be honest, I didn't know if you guys eat, but I didn't want to be rude by not making anything."

You looked up at him and the expression on his face suggested that you'd offended him.

"I didn't mean-" This was going poorly already. "Not that there would be anything wrong with that. I just didn't want to make it weird."

Clearly, you were failing on that front.

He took a seat on the end of the couch and simply said, "Yes, we do eat."

You took the seat beside him and continued to stare at the coffee table as though it would be able to offer you a way out of this.

"I have wine too, if you'd like some," you said.

"Yes, thank you," he replied.

His response relieved you somewhat as it gave you an excuse to finally pour yourself a second glass.

You poured one for each of you and held yours in your hand, while his remained untouched along with his food.

"Look, I'm sorry," you said.

Was he still offended about the food thing? Surely there was some way you could get him to open up.

He finally glanced your way.

"Why are you the one apologizing?" he asked.

"I don't know," you said. "Maybe because you're acting like you don't wanna be here?"

He shook his head.

"I was actually a bit surprised when you agreed to meet me on these terms," he said.

"Well, I didn't even think you wanted to see me again, so that makes two of us."

"No, I wanted that very much."

He lifted the fork from the plate in front of him and began to poke at the noodles upon it. Was he nervous? You found the idea somewhat laughable.

"You could've fooled me," you said, and you regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. "I mean, you have to understand why I feel that way."

"Yes," he said. He continued to stab at his noodles without lifting any of them from their place. "I am aware that I can be a bit difficult."

A bit?

You managed to hold your tongue this time. It would not behoove you to make fun of him; he was trying, and you had to give him credit for that.

"Well, thank you for making it out here," you said.

"Thank you for having me."

He set down his fork at last and inched just a bit closer to you, looking as though he wanted to say something else.

Instead, he returned his attention back to the plate and finally took a bite of the food you'd prepared. You held your breath as you awaited his assessment of it.

"Did you make this?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied.

"It's good."

"Thank you."

You could've cut the tension hanging over your living room with a knife.

"Are you going to eat?" he asked.

You shook your head.

"Maybe later," you said. "I'm not that hungry."

His lips curled into a nearly imperceptible smile.

"So, you made all this food for me?" he asked.

This was your moment to make good on the promise of honesty you'd made to yourself earlier.

"Honestly?" you said, and your stomach flipped. "I've been really nervous about this whole thing."

"About seeing me?" he asked. The smile was still there. "How foolish."

"I know that. I don't know, I just get so worried that I'm gonna mess this up somehow."

He turned to look at you with an expression of disbelief.

"I know," you repeated. "It's not rational. I just… Well, I like having you around and I don't wanna lose you again."

Even under your pledge of honesty, you weren't quite ready to express the extent of your romantic feelings for him. After a few more glasses of wine, perhaps, but not as things stood at the present moment.

"That's certainly not something I hear very often," he said.

"Well, I mean it," you said.

You just couldn't take this distance anymore. You hadn't allowed him to come here so that the two of you could have a polite chat. The evening was turning out exactly as you'd feared and you had to do something.

And so, without another word, you leaned toward him and rested your head against his shoulder.

Part of you expected him to push you away or to ask what the hell you were doing, but instead, he simply allowed it.

It was as though a huge weight had been lifted from your chest and suddenly, you weren't feeling quite so anxious anymore. And you felt that he had relaxed somewhat as well, his shoulder noticeably loosening the moment you touched it.

This was all that you truly wanted. In that moment, you realized that all of the anxiety you'd felt while getting your apartment ready had been an illusion created by your mind to distract you from the truth: you simply wanted to see him and to spend time with him, no matter what form that took. But, deep down, you feared that none of the things you could come up with would be enough for him.

You leaned a little closer and nuzzled his neck.

"I'm glad Dante didn't kill you," you said.

"I'm pretty pleased with that fact myself," he said.

You breathed a sigh of relief.

That simple, lighthearted exchange had dissolved so much of the tension in the room that you felt your anxiety starting to melt away, and your appetite began to return at last.

* * *

Once the two of you had finished eating, you found yourself faced with the entirely new, albeit much less significant, question of whether or not you were going to invite him to spend the night.

Things had been going well thus far. You'd managed to keep them from becoming awkward again, so it wouldn't be an inappropriate question. And he didn't seem to be making a rush to leave at the moment.

You came up with a few different ways to ask, all of which condensed down into, "I'm starting to feel pretty tired."

"I see," he said. "Then, I suppose I should be going now."

You reached out your hand toward his arm in an attempt to stop him from heading out the door.

"Wait!" you called. "I mean, I'm sure you're tired too, and you've been drinking, so it's probably not a good idea for you to drive home right now."

"I metabolize alcohol more quickly than a human would."

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he making excuses to leave or was he truly that dense?

You sighed and tried again.

"What I'm trying to say is," you said. "Would you like to spend the night at my place?"

It was as though a light bulb had flicked on behind his eyes as soon as he'd processed what you'd said.

"Oh," he said. "Yes, I would like that, if you're sure."

"Yes, I'm sure. I asked you three times."

"Did you?"

You rolled your eyes. So he was that dense after all. You made a mental note to be more upfront with your propositions in the future.

"Yes, I did," you said. "I'm gonna get ready for bed now, so feel free to join me whenever."

You started up the stairs and weren't at all surprised when he didn't follow you. If he continued down his current trajectory, you feared he would try to sleep on the couch to be polite.

Still, you'd managed to get your message through to him in the end. At least your efforts to straighten up your bedroom hadn't proven themselves to be a waste.

You began your usual nightly routine and had almost made it all the way through by the time Vergil had joined you upstairs. If it weren't for his reflection in the mirror in front of you, you never would have noticed him, as his footsteps were completely silent. He walked into the room and stopped just in front of your closet, then stared at it as though it confounded him in some way. You finished up brushing your teeth, then went to see if there was anything you could assist him with.

"Looking for something?" you asked as you poked your head out of the bathroom.

"I wasn't expecting this, so I didn't pack anything with me," he replied. "Would it be out of line to ask to borrow some of your clothes? I'd rather not sleep in this."

"Sure, that's fine. If you can find something that fits, that is."

You went to join him in front of the closet in order to help him look. You did have a number of oversized shirts that you liked to wear to bed, so perhaps he would be able to find something suitable among them.

He was taking his time in making a selection, so you decided to choose one for him.

"How's this one?" you asked.

You took a navy blue t-shirt from its hanger and held it out toward him. He took it from your hand and draped it over the front of his body.

"It may be a bit tight," he said.

"Well, I didn't exactly have your body in mind when I bought them, now did I?"

He shot you a sideways look, but tucked the shirt under his arm anyway. You then made another selection, a pair of plain sweatpants that had always been slightly too big for you.

"Thank you," he said.

With that handled, you returned to the bathroom to continue getting ready for bed and he began to change into the clothes that you had given him.

You were on the very last stage of your routine, which involved finally letting down and brushing out your hair. You'd put it up in a simple bun as part of your attempt to impress him, so you got to work removing all of the bobby pins you'd stuck in it, accepting the fact that you would likely continue to find them after you'd woken up the next day.

As you leaned closer to the mirror, it became apparent that you had a very clear view of Vergil in the reflection within it. You made a half-hearted attempt not to stare, but in between extracting bobby pins, you could stop yourself from glancing back.

His clothes may have been perfectly ordinary, but his body underneath them was anything but, which hadn't been apparent to you when it was mostly hidden beneath the thick fabric of the sweater. He was still facing toward the closet as he changed and you found yourself transfixed as you watched the muscles of his back flex with every movement.

Even when you had long since run out of bobby pins, you found that you couldn't tear your eyes away. He had been right; your shirt was way too tight for him, particularly in the shoulder region, and it only served to emphasize his shape all the more.

He put on the sweatpants and abruptly turned, prompting you to scramble in order to make it look as though you had been doing something other than shamelessly ogling him.

You made a grab for the hairbrush beside the sink and began to brush out your hair, perhaps a bit too aggressively to be convincing.

He walked back toward the bathroom and hovered behind you as he examined the outfit you'd given him.

"You're right, that shirt is way too tight for you," you said. You turned around to get a better look at him. "Not that that's a bad thing."

Perhaps it was the two glasses of wine in your system, or perhaps you were feeling emboldened by the positive turn the evening had taken, but regardless, you found that you were unable to resist the urge that came over you.

"My clothes look pretty good on you," you said. "Dare I say, you wear those pants even better than I do."

You walked around behind him and, without a word, smacked his ass with the hairbrush you still held in your hand.

His body tensed and he froze in place.

Oh no.

Had you actually upset him? His eyes shot toward you and you weren't exactly sure what to make of his expression.

He stared you down for a moment, then said, "give me that," as he made a grab for the brush.

You somehow managed to move it out of his reach just in time. His second attempt was equally unsuccessful and you ducked beneath his hand, then took off running back out into your room.

"Give it to me!" he said.

It came out as an order, but his tone was noticeably playful, removing the lingering concern that you'd caused any actual offense.

He took off after you and paused just before you, freezing you beneath the door frame, blocking your path further out into the room.

"Make me," you returned, and you ducked beneath his arm before running back toward the bed.

You were forced to stop again in order to avoid tripping on his clothes, which were now in a pile on the floor, and he took the opportunity to tackle you.

"You're gonna regret that," he said, his breath tickling your ear as he pinned you down against the mattress and began grabbing at your wrist.

In spite of all of your flailing, he finally got a good grip and brought it to a stop, then wrenched the brush free from your grasp with the other hand. As your body stilled and you turned to look up at him, you realized that he was laughing.

For the first time since you'd known him, he appeared to be genuinely happy.

You smiled as well, and giggled at the sight of him holding the hairbrush triumphantly over your head.

"You're ridiculous," you said.

"I'm ridiculous?"

He sat upright and placed the hairbrush onto your nightstand.

"Just can't let me win anything, can you?" you asked.

You sat up as well and placed your head on his shoulder.

"I have my dignity," he said. He sat quietly for a moment, then continued, "I can't thank you enough for having me over tonight."

"I'm glad you came back," you said. "I really did miss you, you know."

He took hold of your right hand and held it to his chest.

"I was beginning to think that you would never find it in your heart to forgive me," he said. "Not that I really deserve it."

"Oh, hush," you kissed his cheek. "What's done is done. You can't erase what you did. All you can do is keep moving forward, and that's what you're doing, isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right."

You brought your left hand up to match the right and gave him a gentle squeeze.

"There will be more than enough time to talk about this tomorrow," you said. "For now, let's try to get some sleep, okay?"

He nodded and you stood to turn off the light, then extinguished the candle before settling back into the bed.

"Water under the bridge," you said. "I promise I'm not gonna lord this over you, or anything like that."

"I wouldn't hold it against you if you did," he said.

"Well, I'm not going to."

You crawled under the blanket and laid down on your side.

As soon as you closed your eyes, you realized just how exhausted you'd become. The adrenaline rush of the chase had masked it for a bit and it was all coming crashing down on you now.

You had just about drifted off to sleep when you felt him move a bit closer and work his arms beneath yours, wrapping them around you.

"I know you're probably asleep," he whispered. "But." He sighed. "You've been so good to me, from the very beginning. I don't think I could ever offer you a suitable repayment for everything you've done for me." There was a rather lengthy pause, and then, "you've shown me that, perhaps, humans can be kind after all."

You had to smile at this. Even now, he was too ashamed to share his true feelings with you. You considered allowing him to believe that you truly were asleep, but instead, you turned over toward him and took his face in your hands.

"That's really sweet," you said.

Even in the darkness, you could see him turning red.

"I didn't know you were still awake," he said.

"Clearly." You smiled. "It's okay. You can be honest with me. I promise I won't judge you."

You gave a large yawn and snuggled up to his chest.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," he said.

And so, all of your fears had proven themselves to be unfounded. Perhaps you could find a way to make this work after all.

It was with this thought in mind that you finally began to drift off to sleep, soothed by it and by the feel of his arms around you. It just felt right, like this was the way things were supposed to be all along, even if it took a while for them to get there.

You could rest assured that, tonight, he was still going to be there by the time you awoke the next morning.

#vergil x reader #dmc #dmc5 #dmc vergil #vergil #writing #fanfiction #fluff #like big fluffy clouds on a summer day #lordt #reader insert #alcohol #tw: alcohol

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tardis-ghost-blog · 3 years

Text

The Master’s Game (11 - Ghosts of yesterday)

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Roka suddenly sprang up, approaching the Master.

"What...?" he asked confused.

But she was actually more interested in what was behind him. There stood a small building on top of that metal platform and she had to stretch to see up to it. Probably a control room. And in there...

"Look, something's blinking in there." She pointed up.

"Weren't you feeling sick a moment ago...?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, still do a bit... but..." There had to be a way to get up there.

"You were in my mind..."

"Uhm... okay, okay... sorry about that..." She looked down.

"That's not the point," he answered, sounding perplex. "Aren't you... I don't know... traumatized or something?"

"Huh?" Roka looked up again. "Should I?" She jumped up a bit, but was unable to grab the platform. "Ah, dammit! Could you give me a leg-up?"

The Master stared at her for a few seconds, then shook his head and helped her, before climbing up himself, following a few steps behind. "Whatever it is, it's mine."

"Hey, I found it!" The door was blocked, but the window was big enough to climb inside. It was horribly dark in there though, making her hesitate for a moment.

"What's wrong?" came an amused question. "Afraid there could be a monster inside?"

Roka froze and turned around. Until now she had completely forgotten that he has had time enough to scramble around in her own memories. "Please, don't tell me, you saw that!" she groaned.

But his overly amused grin was answer enough. "You, hiding under your bed, because you thought there was a monster in the closet?"

Crossing her arms she turned around, staring into the darkness. "To my defense... I was five!" And mumbling she added, "And there really was one inside..." She grabbed the window frame and swung herself into the dark room. "It was striped and had some nasty teeth." There it was.

"Whatever you find in there... it's still mine. Just so you know."

"Come on, let me have some loot."

"Loot?" What do you think...."

"Ohhhhhh!" Roka burst out and laughed. "Cool!" She came back to the window, holding up a gray blocky device. "Oh my... I haven't seen one in ages. The light must have reflected on the screen. If only I had batteries..."

"Err... I have. Come out there." The Master stared curiously at her and at the device in her hands, while she climbed out of the window again. Then he pulled her towards him, casually opening the jacket she was still wearing and reaching inside one of its inner pockets, suddenly holding various kinds of batteries in his hand. "Time Lord pockets." He winked. "What do you need them for?"

"Ah... just feeling a bit nostalgic." She giggled, took the ones she needed and booted up the Game Boy. It was the earliest model. "Aaaaaw... too bad. Can't see it clearly enough. Stupid eyes..."

The Master took it out of her hands and examined it. "What a primitive thing... Is that a game?"

Roka nodded. "Don't think you would like it much though. Those were tough back then."

"Pfff... I can beat it!" He frantically pressed the buttons, tongue between his teeth. "Ha! That's not too hard."

"Sure... not in the first few levels." She giggled.

Then suddenly a grumble resounded. The Master looked up, then to Roka... and grinned.

"Hey, I haven't eaten something since morning!" she defended herself. "I wonder if there is some food down here..."

The Master grabbed the jacket once more and Roka gave him a mean look that went completely ignored. He reached inside one of the other pockets, pulling out some bags of beef jerky, but kept them all, ripped one open and chewed on a slice while devoting his attention back to the game. Roka stared at him.

"Want some?" he asked, grinning again. "Beg for it."

"Pah... keep it." But another growl resounded from her stomach. The Master walked past her with a chuckle and put one of the bags into her hands, before sitting down on the metal floor, feet dangling from the platform, his attention still occupied by the game. Roka moved away a bit further and sat down against a metal post, hastily starting to eat before he could change his mind.

"Why do you even carry that around?" she asked amused.

"You never know. Saved my life once." But he didn't say more. He never talked about anything from his life or his past.

A few minutes went by. Roka was unsure if she should ask or not, but in the end she couldn't hold back her curiosity. "What else have you seen in my head?"

At first it seemed as if the Master just ignored her question. He lay down on his back, holding the Game Boy up, so his flashlight could illuminate the screen.

"Why did you sleep in the attic?" he asked suddenly.

"None of your business."

The Master laughed. "How about... you answer all my questions and I tell you, what I've seen?"

Roka grumbled something and spent some time chewing on the beef jerky, before finally answering.

"A ghost has to haunt a proper place, doesn't it? What else...?"

"That's no answer." His voice sounded very amused. He obviously enjoyed toying with her like that.

She sighed. "Fine... it's boring though, just so you know." She stuck out her tongue, but he was too occupied with the game to even notice. "When my younger brother was born my parents gave him my room. Cause... they couldn't remember it already belonged to someone." Thinking back to those days made her smile though. It actually had been nice up there, although a bit creepy sometimes. "Hm... for the first eight years or so I really believed I was a ghost. It seemed fitting to use the attic."

"See? That's an answer." He grinned.

"What does it even bother you?" she asked annoyed. "Think you can use that against me somehow? Good luck."

"Heh, have heard that phrase often enough to know it's not true. And yes, I do. The fun part about it... you're too curious to stop asking, right?"

Roka crossed her arms and stayed silent for a while. But he was right. There was no way she could resist learning about what he had seen. "Fine... ask your dumb questions," she grumbled.

"Academy? University? How do humans call that?" he promptly asked. "There were mostly impressions of lecture halls."

"Hmmm." This really wasn't a thing he could use against her in any way. "No one ever cared if I attended school or not... So I skipped most of it and snuck into the nearby university. Didn't understand much the first few years and had to learned the rest on my own. Bless the local library..." She chuckled. "It was fun though. I learned some Quantum physics, normal physics, some biology... Everything regarding Chemistry is awful. But the computer science classes were nice. I also tried psychology... but that was boring."

"Nah, it's useful. If you know about that you can let your enemies destroy themselves," he said happily.

"That... wasn't why I went there," she protested. "Not everyone wants to use everything for mere destruction."

A chuckle came from the Master. "You think I'm such a bad person, right? Because I do whatever I want, just because I can." And when she didn't react to that he continued, "But you're not much better. I just wonder... why did you stop?"

Slowly she looked up and towards him. "With what?"

"With strangling the life out of him."

Roka froze.

"Those small children hands of yours... around that much much tinier neck." He carefully and slowly put his words together, sounding as if enjoying every single one of them. "Slowly squeezing the breath out of your brother's small lungs. Because for him they completely forgot about you. That day they brought him home you became a ghost in your own house for good. And you wanted to make him suffer fo..."

"Shut up!" Roka shouted, shivering. "Just... stop it."

But all she got was a very mean and satisfied laugh. "He was just a few weeks old... what a thing to do. And that only for your own good."

"I... didn't do it!"

"Coward. No one would have ever caught you."

"No..." She took a few slow, deep breaths before continuing. "It wasn't his fault. And yes, no one would have ever known who... " She shook her head and lay it on her knees, being silent for a while. "Seen anything else?" Suddenly she felt tired. Or rather... this tiredness had spread inside her since she had sat down. But it got stronger the longer she didn't move.

"Mhm... just one thing. Doesn't make much sense to me though." The Master was still lying on his back with the Game Boy in his hands. "A view from atop some cliffs, looking over the sea as if waiting for something. Was quite the strong image. Important."

"Oh," made Roka, sinking down at the post, putting an arm behind her head and staring up into the darkness.

"So? What were you waiting for?"

The tiredness almost overwhelmed her. "Doubt," she mumbled. "Fear..."

"Huh?"

"That was the day I met the Doctor. The day... Seems you can't see that deep after all."

"With more time... Still, what was that about?"

She laughed tiredly. "I won't tell you."

And surprisingly he didn't ask anymore. Roka stayed silent herself, remembering that day, while the sounds of moaning metal and pushed buttons got fainter. Images popped into her mind, flashes of memories she had wanted to forget. And those other images that weren't her own. For a while she tried to bring them back, to look at them more closely. There had been so much darkness, but even more... she looked at the Master. What could turn a man into something like him? One minute a merciless murderer, the other innocently enjoying a simple thing like that game. One moment happily laughing, the next raging in chaos. And such a deep burning sadness... more pain than a human heart could ever endure... and that in just a single fracture of his mind.

The thought slipped away, as did the sounds. Everything just slowly drowned in that strange tiredness.

Roka stood on top of the cliffs. Finally she had reached the place she had seen from below. Such a nice view over the sea. So high above the waves. Without haste she took off the backpack, leaning it against a tree. Then, slowly, she stepped out onto the natural plateau. There was more than enough space to walk, but still she spread her arms to keep the balance until reaching the end.

Carefully she sat down there, letting her feet dangle above the gaping depths below. And waited. Waited for the fear that used to keep her moving. For some doubt about what she was about to do. But she hadn't felt much since the day she had lost her... the day she had... It seemed like hours passed, but neither of those feelings appeared inside her. Her eyes wandered to her hands, staring at them for a while. It felt wrong that they looked so clean now, when only...

It had gotten darker. The sun set above the sea, leaving a trace of burning fire on the waves. Roka stood up and stretched. There was no point in waiting any longer. Everything was so calm. So cold. She looked down once more, moving her foot...

A soft breeze came up, making her freeze in place. The wind... no it wasn't wind, it was a sensation as of fingers that carefully ran through her hair, gently playing with them. She stood still, let it happen, while the scene slowly faded and she returned to the waking world, not opening her eyes though, and only when she finally moved slightly after some time the sensation vanished abruptly.

For another while she lay still before noticing that the ground was hard and uncomfortable. Only her head leaned against something warm and she didn't want to move. The memory of where sleep had taken her away returned slowly and she opened her eyes to see nothing else but the red cloth of a shirt in front of her. Where did that come from?

Then a sudden realization hit her and within a second she was wide awake and sat up, crawling backwards at least a few meters, away from the Master on whose site she had apparently curled up during her sleep. And who was now chuckling at her sudden reaction, his eyes and hands still glued to that Game Boy.

Roka put her arms around her knees and looked away. "... you could have woken me."

"Too busy," was the only answer she got. But not even a minute later he suddenly shot into a sitting position, a wide grin on his face. "Ha! See? I beat it!" And he held the Game Boy in front of her face.

Roka could barely see something blurry when the screen suddenly faded. Now it was on her to smirk. "It went off."

The Master took it back and stared at it. "Come on! I just beat it! Stupid batteries!" He shot up and threw the thing as hard as he could into the darkness where it crashed into a pile of stuff somewhere in the distance.

"Welcome to the true horrors of my childhood." Roka had to laugh, but then something came to her mind. "Wait... that were either the worst batteries ever, or... how long have I slept?" Confused she blinked a few times. For her it hadn't felt like more than a few minutes.

"No idea..." He sounded disappointed and still stared towards where he had thrown the game. "Some hours." Shrugging his shoulders he turned around, staring down to her. "That stupid action of yours completely drained your energy." He sighed. "I can't even erase it... not without damaging your own memory at least."

"Guess it won't kill me." Roka shrugged. "Don't worry, I haven't seen anything that would make any sense to me."

"Doesn't matter..." He tilted his head and put a finger on his chin. "I just wonder if that will affect your mind. Although for now it doesn't seem so..." For a moment he observed her like a particularly interesting test subject. "Whatever... let's get that stuff back upstairs."

#doctor who #simm!master #Doctor Who fanfic #Doctor Who fanfiction #doctor who master #The Master #fanfic #fanfiction #original character #tgmastersgame

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