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screaminglygay · 5 months

Text

Warm welcome

pairings: kate bishop x fem!reader, avengers x reader (platonic)

summary: after 3 months of being gone, you finaly came back home, but there is a new addiction to the avengers, will the two of you come along?

warnings: new series so very very slow burn!, some swearing, bad grammar possibly (i hope not hehe), alcohol consumption, bad jokes, reader being little mess, that’s it for this part I think:)

word count: 5.5k

an: new series!! since i got back into being very obsessed with miss bishop, so i decided to start a new series, its gonna be long, cuz my ideas for this went crazy!

an2: and yes, this is an universe where everyone is alive, most of them are 100% happy and it´s just a safe space, come at me as you want, but i just need them to be happy. that´s all, thank you.

an3: yup i am back! so sorry! work, school and sickness is just not it. ill answer all of you soon! thank you for support, i see youuu!

!MDNI!

After long time away from you found family, you finaly came back home. It was supposed to be quick mission in Morocco, but after you found out that this is something bigger than some usual drug trafficking you had to stay. Not just for Fury´s sake, but for your own too.

And that´s how you stayed over 3 months in some old motel, that looked like a typical horror hounted house, alone. But that was a past, you´re currently standing infront of the main entrance of the Avengers Compound, ready to open the door and see everyone.

As you open the door the voice of a F.R.I.D.A.Y., the Stark´s AI. "Welcome home, miss (Y/L/N), should I contact the others that you are home?"

"No, no. I want it to be surprise. And (Y/N) is just fine, like I´ve said before, many times." you smile.

As you traverse the hallways, anticipation builds with every passing moment, knowing that you're drawing closer to that cherished destination—the main living room. The anticipation turns to a gentle excitement, a feeling of returning to a sanctuary that holds a piece of your soul.

And finally, as you reach the threshold of the living room, a soft sigh escapes your lips, and a smile graces your face. The sight of the familiar couch, but most importatnly the sight of your favorite people.

"That´s the question, do you put cereals or milk first?" you hear Pietro´s voice, smiling at the fact that he didn´t change a bit, still the same goof. Three months are not so long, but at the same time everything can be different in three months.

You watch him for a little bit and then you dediced to speak up. "Everyone who puts milk first is total psychopat," you calmly say as all of their faces turns to look at you.

"Oh my god! (Y/N)!" Pietro says and in a second he´s lifting you up and pulling you into a tight squeezing hug.

"Hey Speedy," you chuckle as he´s crushing your body. "Pietro... too much, ouch." He let go of you.

"Sorry, sorry. It´s been like what?" Pietro laughs and puts you down.

"3 motnhs, 17 days," you look at your phone, "4 hours, 18 minutes and few seconds." Pietro laughs at your comment.

"It was a long time, let´s just say that." You can hear another sokovian accent, this time the voice belongs to a woman. Wanda.

She hugs you close, hints of warm vanilla and soft lavender dance around you. It's a scent that feels like homecoming, wrapping you in familiarity and a sense of belonging. You smile into the touch, as you felt that the touch is soothing the ache of missed embraces. You feel the gentle warmth of her hug infusing into your being, fulfilling a longing for touch that has been starved for far too. "Hi." is all you can mumble, while hugging the girl.

"Hi," she mumbles back, no words needed for the two of you, both of you missed eachother like lungs misses the air. To be fair, Wanda was the first person you grew close to, when you´ve joined the Avengers. She was quiet, but so well spoken at the same time. You never had to explain things for her to understand you. And the same went the other way around.

The rest of the Avengers come into the living room and all of their faces lit up, when they saw you. All of them are here. Except for Carol, who is probably somewhere in the space, you haven´t seen her in almost half a year, since she had off world mission even before you went to Morocco.

You shared many hugs with all of them, and you didn´t mind it a little bit. You were so touch starved after being alone, that you hold everyone closer for at least a few seconds and all of them did the same. Suprisingly even Yelena didn´t said anything, like she always did.

You scan the whole room, chcecking if you didn´t missed anyone and you in fact did. But the person is not someone you recognize. There is this tall, dark hair girl, who looks pretty much the same age as you. She looks effortlessly stylish in her well-fitted blue jeans paired with a cozy gray sweater. The jeans accentuate her figure while the relaxed elegance of the sweater gives off a vibe of comfort. The girl looks rather awkward as everyone greets you. Not that she wouldn´t know who you are, she does, she heard a lot of stories about you, almost like she knew who you are, but you don´t know anything at all and that makes her feel awkward.

You look at her and smile, not knowing what to do yourself, so Clint steps in, "(Y/N), this is Kate, our new help, Kate this is (Y/N), our old help." You nod at Clint´s words and extent your hand for her to shake it.

"Pleasure to finaly meet you, (Y/N)." Kate smiles her hand has a firm grip.

"Nice to meet you too, Kate." You smile, maybe too much for a normal meeting. You have to admit she is georgous and her completly blue eyes are making you forget where you are right now.

"(Y/F/N)!" Natasha storms into the living room, her voice a sharp, controlled fury that cuts through the air, making you swallow... hard. "When did you arrived?" Even thoug she was mad for not knowing you came back, she was very relieved that you are okay and alive. As her hands wrap around you, you let out a squek and you froze knowing what comes afterwards. "Are you hurt?"

"I´m fine," you quickly say as the rest of the team watch you closely.

"I didn´t ask you, how are you, I´ve asked you if you´re hurt." Her eyes scans your face where she sees the little cuts you have on your face.

"A little bit." You mumble and Natasha raises her eyebrow. "I might have or might have not fallen out of the third floor, " you mumble again.

"YOU FELL FROM THE THIRD FLOOR?!" Natasha is basically yelling at you right now.

"Kinda," sometimes you were terrified of that woman, and that sometimes is now.

Natasha takes a long deep breath, "(Y/N), how do you kinda fell out of a third floor?"

"I´m gonna check her up." Bruce smiles and stand up, leading you to the hospital wing downstairs.

"Thank you, for saving my life," you whisper to him as you´re leaving the living room.

"Don´t mention it, but you know... she´s worried about you. We all have been." Bruce opens the door for you.

"I know, but I´m really okay, just few bruises."

...

After 20 minutes of checking you up, and hearing your story of falling from the building, Bruce looks shocked. He didn´t said a word yet, only wrote down something in his report.

"This is going to be a very long mission report, just from the medical side," he looks at you, "(Y/N)... you had your lower ribs broken, twice actually. And- I´m suprised you´re not screaming in pain right now. How do you truly feel?" Bruce finally looks at you.

"I feel good, really. I mean it hurts, yes. But I felt worse. It feels like a daily workout with Natasha," you shrug as you joke, but Bruce doesn´t seem amused by your joke, but he still nods.

"You know Natasha can look into any mission report, right?" He looks like he´s more scared than you are.

"I´m aware, yes." You give him a confused look.

"Well good luck..." he pats your shoulder, "just rest for the next days, keep yourself hydrated and don´t share the story how you fell from the third floor, please. She would lose it."

"But it truly wasn´t my fault I-" Bruce looks at you and you stop, "got it." You nod.

...

"Alright, so picture this: I'm in this quiet little motel in Morocco, writing down some information I found out that day. It's just me, the mission, and this cute little stray cat that kept showing up at my door. Every night, like clockwork, she'd appear, almost like she knew I needed a friend. So, one day, I caved and let her in. You know, against all mission protocols and stuff. Bla blah blah... but she became my only friend, so I would not lose my mind completly." You talk about your experiences on the mission.

"And then, the weirdest thing happened. One day, she just disappeared. I was worried, you know? Felt a bit empty without her there. But on my last day, she came back. And guess what? She brought company—tiny, adorable company. She led me to this corner, and there they were, her little kittens. It was like she wanted to say goodbye and show me her new family all at once. It was… unexpected, but kinda touching, you know?" You smile, thinking about the tiny family.

"It was truly cute and adorable, also it was kinda relaxing after seeing all the bad and negativity. Like... animals are truly precious you know." As you´re talking you didn´t notice another person coming into the living room, until that person decides to speak up.

"(Y/L/N)," you turn around and notice it´s Nick Fury himself.

"Fury!" You smile.

He didn´t smile back, he has the same old Nick Fury look, "I want your report soon..."

"Y-yes, sir." You nod your head, hoping he would welcome you a little warmer, but it´s Nick Fury after all.

"And (Y/L/N)?" Fury says while basically walking out of the living room already.

"Yes, sir?"

"It´s good to have you back." He smiles, Fury smiles at you. There go your wish of a warmer welcome. Nickolas freaking Fury smiled at you and welcomed you home, warmly.

You have a pround smile on your face, when Tony speaks up, "I work for him for god knows how long and he never looked at me this way..."

Natasha looks at Tony and smirks, "can you blame him?".

You sink into the couch with a grin, finally getting a chance to unwind in your home-away-from-home. After swapping stories and catching up on compound news, Tony steps in with a suggestion—a special Avengers night. Not his typical flashy party, thankfully. He calls it a "Catching Up Night," just a laid-back dinner and some drinks.

It's not about going all out; it's about the simple pleasure of hanging out with your superhero pals, sharing laughs and updates. Tonight's vibe feels relaxed, a chance to chill and connect without the whole party frenzy.

...

Like always druing these 'non party party' you and Pietro moved to the bar section, as he loves to make people their drink based on their personality and you just like to sit and listen to him ramble.

"Do you want a drink called 'Tiny cold' or 'Closet paradise'?" he smirks, being proud of his jokes, like the usual.

"Really? First of all I´m not that tiny, also I´m not in the closet. What do you want me to do, tattoo a pride flag on my forehead?" You raise your eyebrow.

"If it wasn´t true you wouldn´t get so defensive, darling," he winks.

"I hate you."

"No, you don´t." Pietro towers above everyone you know, his playful teasing is basically a form of big-brotherly teasing.

"I´ll get the closet paradise, please." You roll your eyes.

"Coming right at ya!" Pietro smiles, once again, he won your little fight.

"So, Pietro, spill the beans! Who's this new girl, Kate?"

"Ah, Kate, huh? What do you want to know about her?" Pietro say while making you the drink.

"Everything! No one's given me a straight answer. Or any answer at all. I mean I didn´t ask, but I´m doing that now..." You ramble.

Pietro smirks at your words, "I mean... she´s cool."

"Come on, Pietro, don't be like that! Is she nice? What does she do?" You are obvoisuly frustrated as not even Pietro is giving you any tea.

"Well, she's got moves, that's for sure. Quick on her feet, sharp with her arrows—" He almost finishes up the drink for you.

"Arrows?" You cut him off.

"Yep, a regular Robin Hood type, except with better aim and a cooler outfit." He put ice in the glass.

"Is she nice, though? Friendly?" You want to get to know her.

Pietro nods and serves you the drink. "Yeah, she's cool once you get past the whole 'I'm new here' vibe she's got going."

"What do you mean?" You smile at him for giving you the drink.

"Why don´t we invite her and you find out yourself?" Pietro says, not really waiting for your answer and he is already waving like a crazy person at Kate, who is still standing next to the table by herself.

Kate smiles as she notices, that she doesn´t need to stand there awkwardly alone, and she little less awkwardly skips over to the bar. Small "hi" escaping her mouth.

"Hey there archer, why were you standing there all alone, when you can have fun with us?" Pietro starts the conversation.

"I uh-" Kate starts, but no smart explanation leaves her mouth.

"Pietro..." you look at him.

"What?" He looks at you, not knowing what he did wrong.

"No, he´s right. I´m little socialy awkward." The tall girl responds.

You smile at her, slightly noding your head. "Aren´t we all?" You try to make her feel a little better.

"I´m not." Of course Pietro had to say something.

"Well you´re one of a kind, Speedy." Pietro smirks proudly, while you roll your eyes once again.

"Um... what are you drinking?" Kate nods towards your drink in your hand. It was indeed very pretty colorful drink.

"I am drinking a drink that Pietro made..." You say while looking at the drink in your hand.

"The drink has it´s name, (Y/N)." Pietro smiles innocently.

"Yeah, well... I forgot it." You simple just shrug while Kate looks very confused.

"I´ll get one too, please. It looks tasty." Kate looks at Pietro, who just giggles to himself and starts to prepare Kate one 'Closet paradise' too.

All three of you start to be a little tipsy after some time, since Pietro´ alcohol ratio was 2/3 and the remaining ingredients 1/3, he´s just a begginer behind the bar. You realized that Kate is such an easy person to talk to and she´s not that intoverted as you though the first time you saw her earlier today. She´s the exact opposite to be fair, she´s very talkative. In some topics more than Pietro, which you thought is impossible.

After a little bit you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, when you sit down on the toilet, you can´t hide your stupid little smile anymore. Why are you smiling? You don´t really know. But it´s nice, it´s really nice actualy.

After 10 minutes, you come back to the bar, seeing that Kate is sitting there alone. "Where is our bartender?"

"He was invited to an arm wrestling match and, of course, he went." You can notice, that Kate´s cheeks are a little flushed, due to the few drinks she had.

"Of course." You chuckle as you sit next to Kate on one of the bar stools and your eyes immedietly look at her. "Do you like it here? Being in the team? Superhero stuff?"

Kate´s eyes meet yours, "I do have to say, that I idolized it a bit, but it´s not so bad. Not at all." She smiles at you, "what about you? Was it hard being away from your family?"

You nod, "First two weeks were okay, it went suprisingly fast, to be honest. Another week was really boring and then... it´s just mashed in one big mess of fighting, bleeding, falling and running away." You chuckle, but the smile never reached your eyes and Kate notices that.

Kate knows that she needs to make you feel better, "I uh... you know people here missed you a lot. To be honest when i officially joined I felt like there is something missing in here.."

"Oh please..."

"No, no, really. When I moved in, Clint told me that no one gives better tours than you. He also told me that no one makes better coffee´s, which was a first big indicator, that you have to be a class." Kate let out a chuckle and so did you. You often had many stories to tell, when you were giving tours, even though you are the second youngest Avanger. And the coffee you make? It can bring a smile even to the grumpiest Winter Soldier.

"And from that moment I heard a lot of things about you, (Y/N). It felt like I knew you too, like I missed you too." Kate admits, after that she sips on her drink.

"Wow, that´s really... nice to hear." You smile from ear to ear. "I hope you heard only the good things though." You slightly blush. "But um... thank you, Kate."

"No problem." She smiles back.

"To be fair, I didn´t heard anything about you, but I would like to change that." Smooth.

"That is pretty fair." Kate nods as she finishes her drink and so did you.

"We can go to the roof." Is a sentence you said at the same time and you also laugh at the same time

"Roof it is." You chuckle as you two get up and aim to the roof.

Upon reaching the rooftop with Kate, a gentle but brisk breeze sweeps by, causing a subtle chill to settle around you. The evening's tranquility is undeniable, yet the slight coldness in the air prompts you to huddle a bit closer to yourself, silently wishing for an extra layer to ward off the chill.

"I don´t want to admit it, but Pietro makes really good drinks." Kate starts as you two sat next to eachother.

"He does, he´s the best, really." You mumble as you nod to Kate´s comment.

She looks at you, for a bit scanning your face, then she speaks up again. "Do you and... Pietro you know? Are you two together?"

That question almost makes you sober, "I- what?!" You look at her, "oh god no! No, no, no," you laugh.

"No? Oh sorry, I just... assumed." She lets out a little shaky breath.

"We´re close friends, but that´s all. I actually joined a little bit after them and since all of us were scared and going into the unknown we decided to stick together. Including Wanda." You explain the situation, while Kate nods at your words.

"Oh- I see." Her eyes are still on you.

"I wouldn´t choose Pietro in any scenario..."

"That´s harsh." She chuckles.

"I mean it in the best way possible, he´s... anyone who will date him is lucky and unlucky at the same time. Being his friend means having a strong willpower not to kill him, I can´t even imagine what it would be in a relationship with him."

"That´s fair, I guess." Kate nods.

"Give him few more moths and you´ll understand..." You let out a small giggle.

"So you´re not into cocky people?" Kate is bold, very bold. it shocks you, but at the same time it excites you a lot.

"I- don´t really know. I guess... if you´re nice to me, that´s all I´m asking, really." You shrug, once again making eye contact.

"Wait really? This little? Oh come on, not even type? Just 'Nice'?" Kate can´t believe your words.

"Yup. I´m not picky at this point."

"Oh wow, you´re one of the migty heroes, and all it takes to steal your heart is to be nice?" Kate smiles at you, trying to hold a laugh.

"And a good smile, I´m quite sucker for pretty smiles." You didn´t even register you said it, until Kate repeats it.

"Nice and a good smile, whoa (Y/N), be little humble." She nudges your side with her elbow.

"Very funny, Bishop. Do you know how hard is to find someone, who is actually nice? It´s hard these days." You sigh dramatically.

"Whatever you say." Kate lays down, looking at the stars. You watch her for a few minutes and then you lay down next to her.

It feels like you two know eachother longer than just few hours. The alcohol might be a little helper, but at the end you feel like you two are gonna be close friends.

"I still think that there is way more good people than bad, so you might have a chance..." she mumbles as she watches the night sky.

"You think?"

"I know that. For example here, all of you guys are nice, super nice. And I´m not saying it just because you´re 'The Avengers', but I can tell that no matter what you´re trying to do the best." Kate turns her head and looks at you.

"You know you´re part of this punk family too, right? And also it would be weird and kinda pointless, if some bad guys were in the Avengers." You chuckle as you point out.

"That´s not what I´ve meant and you know it." She rolls her eyes and looks back up.

"How did you even met Clint?" You ask, shifting your position so now you´re laying on your side, facing the archer.

"Um... I saved a dog´s life and he almost hit me with his car." Kate responds like it was nothing.

You laugh, "I have to say that is very original way to get into the team. 'You almost killed me and I won´t sue you, if you let me be an Avenger.' And bonus points for saving a dog´s life."

Kate groans and turns on her side to face you, "it was not like that... I was running away from a weird kinda scary looking guys, which later on I found out they were called 'Track-suit mafia'-" As Kate starts to explain how she actually got on the team and how she is basically the young and female version of Clint, you can´t help but notice how happy she is.

She's delving into these tiny details that might not matter to the story at large, but they mean the world to her, and you can sense it. Her storytelling consumes her so much that she's using her entire body, mostly her hands, to illustrate every bit of it. You find it incredibly endearing, the most adorable thing you've ever witnessed.

"Oh wow, so you´re badass basically." You laugh.

"I- yeah, you could say that too." She laughs as well.

"Well it is a honor and-" you sit back up, while you still look at her. "Thank you for your service, miss Bishop."

Kate smile and notices your subtle shivers in the chilly air, gently nudging you. "Hey, you're shivering. Come on, let's head back inside."

You attempt to brush it off with a weak smile. "Nah, I'm good, just enjoying the view."

She tilts her head, giving you a knowing look. "Sure, you are," Kate teases. "But seriously, you're freezing. Let's go before you turn into an icicle."

Reluctantly, you nod, giving in to the undeniable truth. "Alright, fine."

The door creaked open, welcoming you into the comforting embrace of the heated indoors. With a grateful smile, you thanked Kate for her concern, secretly relieved to escape the biting cold.

"There you are! Where have you been?" A slightly drunk Tony takes your hand, "thanks to me, being so amazing, I´ve got a little suprise for you!"

"I was- what surprise?" You give Stark a confusing look.

"It was not thanks to you, but Fury." As soon as the voice echoes through the room, you instinctively recognize it—Carol, immediately drawing your attention her way.

"Carol?!" You turn around and notice a tall blonde lady standing behind you, with her hair down and a black pants with a black tank top.

"I heard you came home." She said with her typical smirk, while her big strong hands wrapped your body. You simply just nod.

"How long will you stay?" You knew right away, that it won´t be for long.

"Just tonight, I´ll be leaving tomorrow early in the morning." You sigh, it was like this all the time, Carol will come and go, you didn't hold it against her at all. She is the protector of the whole space, not only The Earth. It was hard for her too, you hoped that she will remeber to be Carol for a bit, not only the Captain Marvel. And thanks to Valkyrie, she´s taking care of herself too, but after what happened to Monica, it became worse again.

"So still nothing?" Carol just shakes her head and you frown.

"But we won´t stop looking and we will find her." Carol is trying to be strong, but all of the people in this room knew, that it was just too much, even for a hero like her.

Trying to ease the situation you speak up. "Well then let´s ejnoy this few hours, all of us together." You smile, "I´m glad you´re home too, Car." She nods and smiles back at you.

"Natasha have mentioned, that you had fallen from third floor..." Carol sits down.

"You never finished that story, (Y/N)." The Widow stares at you and your eyes immedietnly search for Bruce, he only shakes his head.

"Oh um... it is not worth telling, nothing special nor interesting." You smile and quickly grab bunch of chips on the table.

Captain Marvel looks at Natasha and nods, "I see," and with a smirk on her face, she sips from her drink. "One would say, that it would be an interesting story to tell." Carol point out.

"Well it´s not." You take some more chips.

The night flowed seamlessly, filled with lively conversations and shared laughter as everyone talked and truly enjoyed themselves. It was one of those evenings where every conversation was engaging, every joke landed perfectly, and the camaraderie among the Avengers felt stronger than ever.

…

As you wait for the elevator to your room, you can´t help but smile. After a long day, today was really good. After you reached your room it didn’t took you long enough to fall asleep.

...

"MY BEST FRIEND CAME HOME AND NO ONE TOLD ME?!" You hear a voice yell at you. Before you can open your eyes, your hit with what felt like pillow.

"Huh?!" You blink a few times to get use to the light in your room.

"WHEN DID YOU CAME? HOW LONG ARE YOU HERE-" Now it was your turn to take the pillow and throw it at the person. As you finaly focus you notice that it´s Spider-boy himself.

"What time is it?" You mumble, still being half asleep.

"6 A.M. BUT WHY DID NO ONE TOLD ME YOU´RE-" And he is hit with another pillow.

"Don´t yell, please," you rub your eyes.

"You´re not happy to see me?" Peter sits next to you on the bed.

"I'm excited to see you, but maybe not with the yelling and at a more reasonable hour than 6 freaking A.M. I'll be much happier." You smile as you open your arms, inviting him into a nice early morning hug.

"Why did no one told me you´re back? I´m always the last one to know things." Peter whines dramatically as he pulls away from the hug.

"Well Tony told me you went with MJ and May on a dinner, so that´s why he didn´t want to ruin it." You shrug, "Anyways how are things with you and MJ?" You raise your eyebrow and he blushes a bit.

"Things are good, really really good, (Y/N). And yesterday dinner with May was really good, we all had fun." You smile at his response.

"I´m really glad." You are happy for you friend, it took him ages to finally confess to her. "Do you.. uh do you know Kate?" You look at him as Peter nods his head, "well... I met her yesterday, and we had a little converstaion on the roof and... she is nice. Really nice. Clint chose a good person" You say with a little blush on your face.

"Oh my god- is she like really really really nice?" He teases.

"Yeah..." You smile, knowing that Peter got your message.

"That is cute. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has a crush. Awww." Peter chuckles.

"Eww stop. I don´t know if it´s a crush, maybe it is... but you- " Peter cuts you off.

"Can´t tell anyone. Got it. Don´t worry. But under one condition..." Peter points up a finger.

"And that will be?"

"You have to talk to her, actually talk to her. Not just you´re super topic about the weather." You always talked to people about weather, when there was nothing else to do and you were dying to save the conversation.

"Easy." You smirk.

Spider-boy raises his eyebrows, "Easy? Let me bet, that you you will forget your own name when she looks at you."

"Oh shut up." You get out of the bed, taking just some oversized hoodie, since you already have a black swetapants and a shirt. "And since you woke me up this early, you´re making me a breakfast." Peter just nods as you two walk into the elevator.

...

When Peter starts to make you some pancakes, Carol walks in.

"There you are! I´m leavin for now, but-" You didn´t let her finish, you just rush to give her a warm long hug.

"I know. Just be careful and don´t forget to take care of yourself." The blonde one smiles.

"Copy that. So... see you later?"

"See you later, Cap." You salute her, which makes her laugh. And with that, Carol went into the skies once more and this time you hope you will see her sooner than in 6 months. The sentence 'see you later' is always better than a goodbye.

As you and Peter swap stories, reliving the adventures and crazy story times. Before he can finish his story about training with Bucky, a dark-haired girl strolled in, catching your attention.

"Morning." She smiles at you and then looks at Peter. Her raspy deep morning voice, messy hair and gray sweatpants with a white tanktop is something no one prepered you for.

"Hi, hello, morning, good- one!" Kate smile just widens and she goes past you to the fridge to get a fresh orange jucie.

Peter leans in closer and mumbles. "You owe me 10 bucks," having the most arrogant smile on his face. You just slap his arm.

"Can I get some pancakes too, please?" Kate watches as Peter flips another one on the plate.

"Of course!" He starts to make a few more, until he looks at his phone, "oh no! I completly forgot. (Y/N) watch the pancakes. I have to go, but you ladides have a good morning!" Peter gives you his spatula and even though Kate just nods and sits down, you know what his plan is.

"Bye Peter." You stare at him, but deep down you´re glad that you can spent some alone time with the archer.

He just sends you a wink and leaves the room.

"Need any help with the toppings?" Kate asks, watching you finish the rest of the pancakes.

"N-no, I've got it. I mean, I can handle it. Thank you, though."

Kate chuckles softly, noticing your nervousness. "You seem a bit flustered. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, just... morning jitters, I guess. I'm not a morning person."

"I see." She smiles.

"Do you have any plans for today?" You look up from the pan.

"Just the usual, a bit of training, maybe some archery with Clint later." Kate asnwers as you put some pancakes infront of her. As Kate tries the pancakes, you feel a sense of relief mixed with a tinge of excitement.

"The pancakes turned out pretty great! Anyway, how about we plan something fun for later? Maybe a movie night?" Kate say while finishing her last piece.

"Sounds perfect! I'd love that, Kate." Oh maybe early mornings are not so bad.

...

Over the next month, the bond between you and Kate flourishes, evolving into a deep and cherished friendship. Training sessions become a shared routine, where sparring sessions turn into moments of encouragement and laughter, each victory and defeat strengthening the relationship between you. Kate's guidance and support during training sessions spark a newfound confidence within you, making each session not just about physical exertion but also about trust and shared goals.

Movie nights become a beloved tradition, the occasional heated debate over the best movie snacks were on daily basis. It's these moments, cozy and intimate, where you find yourself drawn further into the orbit of Kate's infectious personality, her laughter becoming the soundtrack of your nights.

Walking Lucky, Kate's faithful companion, becomes a cherished routine. You find comfort in these quiet moments, admiring Kate's easygoing nature and her love for Lucky, feeling your admiration for her grow stronger with each passing day.

Yet, as your friendship blossoms, so do the feelings within you. What started as little crush has transformed into something deeper, a warmth that lingers whenever you're near Kate, a longing that grows with each shared laugh and meaningful glance. But you bury these feelings deep, treasuring the friendship too much to risk changing its dynamics.

thank you for reading! hopefully you’ll love this new series!!! 💕💖💞

#adele writes #kate bishop x fem!reader #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #marvel fanfiction #marvel #hailee steinfeld #avengers x reader

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ibbythebee · 7 months

Text

Hospital Wing Hermits

gif credit: @handknit on wattpad

pairing: Neville Longbottom x year younger!reader

summary: From Neville's second year at Hogwarts to his last, his most memorable times with you have been spent in the hospital wing.

genre: fluffiness all round, slight angst at the end... but only a little, slow-burny

warnings: this fic is so soft that you will potentially combust, slight swearing, SO MUCH hand holding, the reader is an oblivious goofball until she's not, kissing, talks about illnesses and injuries, blood and boogers

words: 6k

masterlist

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 2nd Year

Clutching onto Madame Pomfrey is nothing new to Neville. In the middle of the night, however, is a different story. The Nurse coos whenever the boy makes the slightest sound of pain, holding him up as not to put anymore pressure on his right foot.

"We're just about there, dear. Come on, just a few more steps..."

Leading him to the middle of the hospital wing's room, she then guides him onto an untouched bed, and immediately slides a pillow underneath his ankle. A spot of light on the opposite side of the room does not go unnoticed to either the woman or boy as soon as they had entered the room.

Neville rubs his eyes, squinting at the strange glowing mound of sheets. He watches as, with a sigh, Madame Pomfrey marches to the other preoccupied bed and pulls over the white covers to reveal you, a sheepish looking girl.

Under the light of your wand, your face looks puffy, lips and nose chapped, hair amuck. You cough into your elbow and smile a toothy innocent smile, batting your big eyes at the woman, silently pleading your innocence.

Pomfrey, however, does not play games. "Turn off that incessant light, Miss L/N. Do you realise what time it is?"

Your lips shape into a pout, voice stuffy as you answer. "But Madame Pomfrey, it's so boring here. I'm bored."

"No, you should be asleep. Turn that off right now. I don't want to have to send another owl to your mother about you refusing medical help."

"Just a few more minutes please? I'll finish the page I'm reading."

"Absolutely not. It's basic manners and respect for your fellow peer." She motions to Neville, and you finally turn to him.

Despite the fatigue in your features, your eyes seem to glow, piercing through the dark room. Perhaps it's just his lack of sleep or absence of light, but there is something drawing him to you and he fails to look away. Nothing comes out of his mouth even though he knows he's probably supposed to greet you, but neither do you.

A second longer you stare at your new roommate and in eventual defeat, you pout. The light from your wand fades, as you mumble 'nox' under your breath and get comfortable under the blankets.

Satisfied, Madame Pomfrey clears the rubbish bin underneath your bed and turns back to Neville handing him a small flask of some sort of healing potion.

"All right. Off to bed now both of you. Good night, dears."

You both mutter a 'goodnight', closing your eyes, gingerly pulling the covers up to your chins.

It stays mostly quiet in the room, apart from the Nurse's shuffling. Though as time passes, shoes click and click away, and then the door creaks shut.

"Psst!"

Neville stirs.

"Hey, psst!"

"Huh?" Is all Neville can manage, lifting his head with a groggy squint.

"What happened to you?" You ask in a loud whisper and sniffle. Sitting straight, and staring right at him. Your eyes really are big, inquisitive.

"Well I... twisted my ankle," he finally says.

"How?"

"I... I'd rather not say. It's embarrassing, really."

"I won't tell anyone," you say as-a-matter-of-factly. "You can hex me if I do."

He looks at you through narrow eyes again and this time it's your teeth that glow. As you show no interest in falling asleep, Neville's neck admits defeat and his head crashes back down onto the pillow. "Can we just please go to sleep?"

"I caught a cold... or maybe a fever. Runny nose—" you sniff, wiping your face with your pajama sleeve "—wet cough, high temperature. My mum says I have a weak immune system."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" He comments half-heartedly to the ceiling.

"No, it isn't."

Silence. For a moment, he believes that you've finally surrendered yourself.

"So how'd you twist your ankle in the middle of the night?"

Never mind.

"You don't seem like a rule-breaker," you say.

He carefully shuffles up to sit and sighs. Where on earth did you get your energy from? He hadn't met such a talkative first year before.

Neville takes a moment to answer, debating on whether or not you're harmless enough for him to be vulnerable. "I had a nightmare, okay? I fell off my bed and... landed badly."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" You echo.

"No, it isn't."

Silence once again ensues, but this time Neville's ready for your chatterbox mouth.

"What's your name? I'm..." You suddenly stop and he nearly laughs when your silhouette jerks and you sneeze. It's loud, like his Gran.

"Nice to meet you, Achoo." He chuckles, holding a hand over his mouth.

You sniff again, face hot in a new wave of humiliation, and this time you wipe your face with more aggression. "Hey, that's not funny! My name is — A-ACHHHOO!"

"Isn't that what I just said?" He can't help but laugh again. Relishing in the groan you emit and how furiously you blow your nose.

With a poke of your tongue, you retort. "Whatever, Mr... mm... Fall-out-of-bed...n-nightmare-broken-ankle-boy."

"Wow, that's really fantastic, Achoo." He slides back down into his bed, closing his eyes with content and tries to hold in his giggles as you continue with determination to clear up your mistake.

Initially, Neville thought he wouldn't even be able to get in a nap, but now with the understanding that you bark more than you bite, he creates a silly image of you in the form of a puppy. As your voice rings in the background, the puppy image barks with you, and he feels his eyes grow heavy, falling into a content and nightmare-less sleep.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 4th Year

Ever since sleeping the night in the hospital wing, Neville knew he'd be seeing more of you. It was surprising to him that he hadn't noticed you before that night, especially seeing as you were such a social butterfly. And despite being in the year below, he'd always manage to catch your eyes in the Great Hall. And in the courtyard. And in the halls. And through a classroom window. You were everywhere and anywhere. And when you weren't, you were in bed in the hospital wing.

Just like you are now. The fourteen-year-old hadn't seen you for the past few weeks after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and needless to say, he had to see you.

And such a perfect opportunity had arose today, albeit a painful one, but an opportunity none the less.

Neville opens the door to the wing as gently as possible as not to wake you, however knowing you, you probably already were.

Entering the room, he clutches his sore hand to his ribs and cranes his neck to spot the nurse. Instead he finds your lying form under a mountain of blankets.

You stir, and Neville curses at his shoes for making so much noise. Sure, his intention of coming here was to see you, but he’d seldom seen you in such a peaceful state and didn’t want to ruin that for you.

“Neville?” He hears you say and then you’re facing him.

He smiles down at you, with a voice just as soft as silk. "Hey, Achoo. Didn't mean to wake you. How you feeling?”

“I’m feeling alright. Kinda headache-y, but fine. Ugh, what time is it?” You rub your eyes and stretch as you sit up.

The messiness of your bed-hair is incredibly endearing and the curve in Neville’s lips only grow at the sight.

“It’s third period.”

“Then… what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

You’re suddenly on your feet, eyes round and wide, taking in the scene of the tall boy. He flinches, attempting to hide his hand in his robe sleeve.

You snatch his hand, bringing it close to your face. It’s a burn. All over the back of his palm. "Bloody hell— Where's Madame Pomfrey?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." A small chuckle falls from his lips as you examine him. Somehow, in some miracle he watches your big eyes grow larger as you twist his hand, move his long fingers to get as much information about his wound.

He feels like he’s going crazy, your touch is a new kind of burn on his skin. It doesn’t sting, but it is hot. And you don’t even know you’re causing it.

"She's always gone when you actually need her,” you huff.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really. Just hurts a little when I move it."

"What about when I...?" You drift off, as you slide a delicate thumb over his beet-red knuckles.

The tips of his ears turn the same shade of red. "Stings."

With no further words, he lets you pull him to one corner of the hospital wing, searching for a particular ointment on the many shelves of medical supplies. You don't let go of his hand, and he doesn't dare pull away.

"Let me guess how it happened—" you say, grabbing a round jar of blue gel to read the label.

"Seamus." You both state and then share a laugh.

Placing the jar back, you continue your search and Neville fills the comfortable silence. "It's Potions class. For once I thought I was doing pretty decent and then next thing I know, Seamus' cauldron blows up next to me and of course I get the damage."

His hand is held up to your face again and he watches as you grab a new jar with a less solid looking gel, creamy in colour.

"I suppose it's a good way for me to get out of the rest of the class," he shrugs.

"And get away from Snape," you quip and earn a chuckle from him. There was a time in Neville’s third year, when you had come to learn about his amusing boggart. He’d snuck into the hospital wing, claiming he had a nasty headache and ended up staying the night, neither of you getting a wink of sleep. It had also been revealed that the thing you were most frightened of was giants.

“Sit down,” your motioning to the mattress behind him.

He does so without question, still attached to you by your pinkie, making himself comfortable on the edge of a neatly tucked bed. He follows your every action as you place the ointment jar beside his thigh and open the lid. You scoop a teaspoon amount with your fingers and lifted his burnt hand again.

Before the cream touches his burn, you begin to tell him about what illness you've caught today and he barely feels the sting of the medicine. There's no better spell or potion to kill pain than your voice, that much was evident even back when he first met you.

Concentration laces your features and unbeknownst to you, your hips hit the edge of the mattress, unaware to the fact that Neville's knees are on either side of you.

The sight of you between him for some reason makes it difficult for him to swallow. The urge to trap you with his legs increases by the second. "Hey, Y/N?"

You wipe off excess ointment on your pajama top and turn your attention to him. He rarely called you by your first name. Something's up.

"Yeah?"

"Well, the erm... You know in a week or so?"

"Mhm?"

There's a pause as he searches your eyes for confidence, then he finally announces. "Would you say you're a good dancer?"

Creases form between your brows and you pout at the question, really thinking it over. If there was anything else Neville had learnt about you was that you always answered his queries with great interest and thought. You never treat his questions as though they're dumb, and he’s come to adore you for that.

As you ponder, he slides his non-burnt hand under yours, idly fiddling with your delicate fingers; tracing around the length of them, lifting them up and dropping them one by one, and eventually laying his palm flat on top of yours. Were his hands always this big?

The tips of your fingers tap-tap against his, as you finally answer. "I suppose... I would like to think I am."

"Well... that's good to hear."

"What about you?"

"Oh me?" He finds your face and swallows thickly. "I've been practicing lately, so I can only hope I've improved."

A giggle breaks free from your lips and it’s music to his ears. "Practicing? Whatever for?"

"The Yule Ball, of course."

"The..." The creases near your brows form again. "I've completely forgotten about that."

He squeezes a finger of yours. "So, no one's asked you yet?"

You sneeze into your elbow and then for a second time, and your voice becomes stuffy to the amusement of Neville. "Asked me what?"

"Asked you to be their date, of course."

"Oh. No." Scoffing. "Being stuck in here means no social-life. And besides—" You spin around quick to grab a roll of bandage, and gingerly flatten it over his burn "—who's gonna want to dance with someone who sneezes every five minutes?"

"I would."

"That's what I thought — wait... you would?"

In an effort to look nonchalant, Neville shrugs, finding interest in a bird that's flying near the window. The tips of his ears poking out of his shaggy hair are giving you a different response, they're blushing.

You finish with his wound and step away from the bed, fingers feeling cold when you let go of him.

Upon inspection of your medical handiwork, he smiles gently. He hadn't felt a thing. "Thanks for this."

"I... I can't guarantee that I'll be completely healthy that day," you say.

"The Yule Ball?"

You nod in an almost embarrassed way, as you fiddle with the collar of your sleeping clothes.

Neville just shakes his head. "The suit my Gran got for me has a lot of pockets so I’ll carry all your tissues for you. Or anything else you might need, I'll keep them for you."

"That'sssss.... ACHHU!"

"Bless you. So what do you say? Would you... want to go with me? Maybe? I promise not to step on your feet."

"Miss L/N?! What on earth are you doing out of bed?!"

"MADAME POMFREY!" You both exclaim, faces and necks feeling hot.

"Come on, dear, why don't you ever follow simple orders?!"

Mumbles of pathetic protest fall from your lips as the woman drags you back to the other side of the room. You knock into Neville’s knee on the way and so he’s quick to follow behind you with his own incoherent babble about the burn on his hand.

You're settled under the blankets once again and watch as the nurse's eyes bulge at the sight of the tall boy's perfectly cared for palm. She inspects the bandage, inquires about the pain and what the cause was, all while Neville can't keep the flushed look off his face.

"She— well... Y/N helped me out. It doesn't hurt anymore, I'm fine now, Ma'am."

As the said woman keeps a hold of his hand, she turns to you with daggers. "What did you use? A potion? Spell, perhaps? Mr Longbottom could have severe side-effects if you're not careful."

"He won't," you grin toothily as you did back in your first year and point to the shelf in the right corner. "I used the ointment that you gave Theodore Nott not that long ago. Haha, Nott not."

Neville stifles a laugh, and isn't surprised when the nurse doesn't question you further. You might be the only student that can get away with arguing with Madame Pomfrey.

The nurse's face instead takes the form of an appreciative and impressed expression. It's only natural that with your ‘weak immune system’, you've gained as much medical knowledge as you have colds and flus.

"I'll admit, you've done a splendid job with Neville. However, you simply cannot use whatever you like, whenever you like, on whomever you like. Next time this happens you need to wait for me to return, alright? Is that understood?"

Taking a glance at Neville's sheepish state, you sigh and nod in response.

"And Neville dear, don't encourage this behaviour. Especially not from Miss L/N."

"Okay, Ma'am."

She gives the boy a goodbye and immediately turns to you, a full on lecture spilling from her mouth. He isn’t supposed to leave yet, not when he’s just finally had the courage to ask you out.

Neville finds your helpless gaze behind the woman’s shoulder, and sends you a sad sort of smile before turning on his heel to get to the door.

"I-I'll go with you!" You yell.

The tall boy pauses, heart flipping at your words.

"To the Yule Ball."

There’s no stopping the grin that forms, and he finally nods after a second, hair shaking with the action.

Your eyes speak to him as your own smile appears.

Meanwhile, the woman huffs and puffs, cleaning the area around your bed. "Not in this state, you won't."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 5th Year

The last time Neville was in the hospital wing, he'd come to talk to you about his recent endeavours in Herbology and let slip that he's been secretly practicing defensive magic with a group of other students, being taught by none other than Harry himself. There was no doubt that you would also be trusted enough to join, however seeing as you were once again bed-ridden, it felt best to keep it a secret until you got better.

Now it wasn't a secret anymore, and each time he'd visit you'd ask him to put in a good word with Harry, with the group. Neville always said he would, but he never did, fearing that Professor Umbitch would eventually catch onto you and you'd have to pay the ultimate price.

Karma is an Umbitch, however, and now it looks as if the only answer to Neville's current predicament is to let you join Dumbledore's Army, despite all his worries and his efforts to stop you from doing that.

Today’s DA training has been cut short, due to the fact that the fifteen-year old is now incapacitated. Blood refusing to slow down from his nose.

Going to Madame Pomfrey would've required him to come up with a believable story as to what happened, so the next best thing was to send for you, someone who already knows about this secret group.

"Neville!" A Ravenclaw boy shouts, interrupting his thoughts. "Your Bogey Bug is here— ow!"

Someone smacks the kid, and then suddenly the Weasley twins are leading you into the Room of Requirement. You stand over him, adorning new pajamas he hadn't seen before.

"Hey Achoo," he weakly smiles. "Thanks for coming."

The DA gather around, as you crouch to his side and immediately take the cloth he's been holding to his nose. You make a face at him. “Oh Neville… what are we going to do with you?”

A fresh line of blood rolls down to his lip, so you let him leave the fabric there to sink it in.

"Keep your head steady, okay? Don't lean back, just let the blood flow for now."

"I think my nose might be broken?"

"Neville, I swear to..." your head spins sharply, and a few students flinch. "Who did this?"

"We were practicing stupefy," the familiar voice of Seamus answers and immediately your tense shoulders relax seeing his face emerge behind the twins. "I didn't mean to. I swear, Y/N."

"He really didn't mean to," Neville echoes.

You sneeze into your elbow and shake your head, palm making contact with your cheek. "See, this is why you should’ve told me about this secret army group thing so I could've joined and stopped something like this from happening.”

"I'm sorry."

You take Neville's hand again and lift the cloth, checking over the damage. There is damage, alright. You try not to make a show of wincing, fearing that the brown-haired boy would get anxious by your reaction, but his nose really does look quite out of sorts. Out of line. Broken.

He realises you haven't said a word in a while and smiles again, "you can fix, can't you, Achoo?"

"I told Neville I could treat him, but he kept refusing and insisted for your presence," Luna's soft voice interrupts as she crouches down beside you.

Someone amongst the crowd starts to coo and the tips of Neville's ears manage to turn beet red, more so when you turn your attention to him, expression unreadable.

Luna carries on, eyes focused on you. "He wouldn't let anyone touch him. Not until now, anyway."

"Okay!" A sudden clap startles even Luna, and you all turn to the perpetrator. Harry Potter's back is turned to your direction as he addresses the crowd, "I think we'll call it a day. Neville needs his strength and so do you."

The crowd murmurs, exchanging pouts and disappointed shrugs.

"Be proud of yourselves, you all did brilliantly today. Each and every one of you have improved. Next time we get to meet we'll continue with the Patronus Charm."

"What about Bogey Bug? How do we know she's not gonna rat us out?" A girl in Hufflepuff asks.

Neville sees you stand up, slapping a hand over your chest. "I swear on my life and the life of Neville—."

"Hey!"

"—that I will not snitch on this group or expose any of you. I promise to be loyal and keep my mouth shut about this."

Some faces don't seem convinced, as more murmurs and chatter erupt.

"She can be our nurse!" Neville exclaims, stealing everyone's attention. It's time to put in that good word for you. "We won't have to go to the hospital wing if Achoo— I mean, Y/N is here. She's really good at what she does. Plus, I accidentally told her about the army about a month ago and she hasn't told a soul since. I do..."

Your big eyes soften when he turns to you.

"...I trust her with my life."

"All right then," Harry claps once more. "All those in favour of Y/N becoming part of the army, raise your hand."

A few hands come up, whilst others whisper for a moment. One more, then four more, and then more hands raise faster than you can count them. You and the broken-nosed boy share grins, as you squeeze his free hand.

"That's it then. Y/N, welcome to Dumbledore's Army."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 6th year

Following the events of the previous year of school you and Neville had grown ever closer. Outside of the classroom you'd never be seen without the other. Inseparable. There'd even been a rumour going around that you were dating, but you always denied such claims and Neville could only comply. He hadn't yet told anyone about his feelings for you, although it seemed that those in his close circle were figuring it out on their own.

After having looked like a lost pygmy puff in the Great Hall, Luna found Neville and mentioned to him that you looked 'out of sorts' during class. He hadn't even asked about you. She just knew to tell him.

So, it’s only fitting for him to be by your side now, during lunch hour.

You’re shivering underneath all the sheets and blankets, and yet as Neville glides the back of his fingers across your forehead, you’re sweating as well.

“Hang in there Achoo, you’ll be fine in no time. The spell will take effect.”

You can only give so much as a nod, and groan when your lower abdomen tightens with a deep, stabbing ache.

“Shh,” Neville smooths his delicate fingers over your forehead again, tucking loose strands back to their place with the rest of your hair. “I'm here. Do you want me to distract you with anything?"

"Anything," you squeak, eyes shut tightly as if doing that would stop your cramps and make you fall asleep faster. "Please."

"Alright, erm..." He slides his tongue over his bottom lip and leans in closer to you, elbow pressing into the mattress. "I suppose I can tell you about a dream I had not long ago. You were in it."

"The Hippogriff one?" You tremble.

"No, this is a new one," he smiles when you meet his gaze, finding your fingers peeking through the sheets and taking them into his hands. "It's really stupid, as dreams usually go, but I really like it."

Your fingers are stretched out, as Neville begins to trace over your palm. First he draws a circle and you giggle a little at the feeling.

"This is me," he draws a triangle, "and this is you. It seems like any ordinary day, except you and I have the same classes. In the dream we're both popular. Everyone cheers for us when we get good marks, and even Professor Snape smiles at you."

"No way."

He laughs and traces a shape with lots of spikes. "Yes way. It really seems too good to be true, because there's even a moment where we successfully sneak out at night, we're just in our pajamas and we're watching the stars from the astronomy tower."

"I'm waiting for the 'but'."

"But — here comes the stupid part — you just start flying out of nowhere. One second you're next to me, the next you're just in the sky. I'm freaking out trying to reach for your hand, but you're just so calm about the fact that you mysteriously gained the ability to fly."

You're giggling again, especially as he slaps your palm a few times to emphasise the story. "Accurate reaction."

"And then it just ends with me being able to breath fire."

"What?" You laugh, brows pulling together in amusement. "I wonder what Professor Trelawney would say about that. What all of it might represent."

He draws a line on each of your fingers, slow and tickly. "If it's anything like I've been told before, it probably means bad luck."

"Well I was also in the dream with you, so we'll go through the bad luck together." To his surprise, you thread your fingers through his and squeeze. You're not trembling anymore, you haven't been for the past minute or so, and it doesn't feel like you're being stabbed over and over in the stomach.

"Think you can sleep now?" He asks, fingers hesitantly unravelling.

You nod, grinning at him, those eyes of yours finally shining as bright as they usually do.

"Want me to go get Madame Pomfrey?"

You shake your head. And then your arms are around his neck, head tucked in the space between your bicep and his jawline.

It feels like a millennium till he returns your gesture, arms securing around your waist and back, pulling you in tightly and desperately. The mix of the wing's clinical scent and the smell of baked desserts fills his nose. He could've sworn he'd smelt something like this during Potions class.

"Stay with me," you purr. "Please."

He knows he has class in ten minutes, he knows he can't skip, he knows he'll get in trouble.

So with your arms determined to remain wrapped around each other he bends over, moving till your head meets the pillow. He kicks off one of his school shoes. Then the other.

You feel his knees dip into the mattress beside your thighs, and then you have to part for a moment as he slips under the blankets, his head settling on the pillow right beside yours.

When he's comfortable, you take one of his hands and lower it until he brushes over your clothed belly.

Keeping the heat from entering his ears and cheeks is impossible, as his hand flattens over your stomach, shock evident in his features from your bold action.

"Could you keep it there?" You say, when you feel his uncertainty. "It'll help if the cramps come back." Your own hands smooth over his, trapping him there.

"I will." He swallows thickly. "Are you comfortable?"

You nod. "Are you?"

"Absolutely. Yes. I am."

A content breath passes your lips and you smile, all giddy like, at the ceiling. "Thank you for being here. For being with me always. For not making fun of me being sick all the time. Not calling me Bogey Bug. For... for just being you. For being my most favourite person ever."

"I could really say the same about you." Both your voices are barely above a whisper, seeing as your faces are so close together.

"Thanks Neville," you turn to him, and tap the back of his hand on your belly.

You stare at each other for a moment, and for some reason it doesn't feel wrong. It's not awkward.

Neville breaks the silence. "You... you know how everyone keeps saying that we're... you know going out?"

"Yeah."

Neville pauses for a second, you're staring so intensely, pupils large and beautiful. He tries to swallow past the lump in his throat and squeezes the material of your clothes. He can talk to you, he can ask you the question. He's battled against Bellatrix Lestrange before, he's been put in Gryffindor for a reason. He can ask you. "What do you say we make those rumours... not rumours anymore?"

The corners of your mouth twitch. "You-You mean... you mean like...?"

"Yes. Like that. Like... I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sort of way."

You don't say anything.

He continues, with a small bite of his lip. "Like... I'm completely mad for you and if I don't tell you now I don't think I'll ever get the chance to again."

"This... isn't a dream, is it?"

"Can I prove to you this isn't a dream?"

"Okay."

And it really feels like a dream, as his face leans in and you feels his lips press against the corner of your mouth.

"Did that help?" he whispers.

You twist around to lay on your side, guiding Neville's big hand up to your waist. "You missed, Neville."

"What?"

"You missed."

This time you both lean in, and this time Neville doesn't miss.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 7th year

The last Horcrux has been destroyed, Voldemort's killed, the Death Eaters have fled. New life has been brought to Hogwarts, sun pooling through the shattered windows of the Great Hall.

People sit on broken stools, torn and ashy blankets, chatter quiet and solemn. A few people manage to tell jokes and liven the mood, others cuddle, kiss, crying tears of relief. Nurses scamper around tending to the badly wounded.

Only...

As Neville limps his way through the hall he desperately scans over the crowds only to realise you're not here. You're not by Madame Pomfrey. You're not by Luna either. Neville finds Ginny's tired but hopeful figure and before he can tap her shoulder, she's already turned to him with a gentle smile.

She shakes her head before he even has a chance to speak. "I haven't seen Y/N. Not since... well not since she took care of Freddie. 'M sorry Neville."

"No," he shakes his head and gives the girl a gentle hug when her voice wavers and her bottom lip quivers. "No, I'm sorry."

"You helped kill Voldemort. That's hardly anything to be sorry for," she smiles again as they part, softly pushing at his shoulder to leave. To keep searching for you. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for her."

Neville sends her a purposeful nod and turns to leave, the sword of Gryffindor still snug in his hand. At times he uses the weapon as a crutch, the pain in his everything starting to take a toll as previous rushes of adrenaline begin to fade. The only thing keeping him going is the thought of you. You and your sneezes, your messy hair, your often nasally voice, your big eyes and equally big grins. You.

He passes what looks to be remnant of the hospital wing's door, merely a pile of wood chips and metal beams now. He hears the distant tweet of a bird, the pitter-patter of loose rubble and someone's sneeze.

The sword clangs to the ground and he's sprinting. Neville rounds the corner of the entrance to the wing and he stops, breath heavy, vision blurry.

You're there, and you're already staring at him, your grin so large and your eyes even more so and you're holding onto something familiar.

"N-Neville?" your voice is soft and so stuffy and gorgeous.

"Achoo, good Godric." His sore legs carry him to your side, and you're running toward him, arms open. And then you jump and he completely forgets about how much pain he's in when he catches you.

You cling to his sweater, to his shoulders, to his neck, to his waist, squeezing him with every bit of strength you've got left.

He's grasping at your hoody, your waist, your hair, your skin, he's touching all of you, scared that if he'll let go you won't be there anymore.

"I love you so much," he says through a trembling voice.

You pull away slightly and return your feet to the ground, legs unwrapping from his hips. You crane your neck to kiss his jaw, and then you kiss his cheek and his other and then finally his lips. And it sets your heart on fire, full of adoration and care and relief. You don't ever want to stop feeling him here, his supple lips against yours, especially as his hands cup your jaw, reeling you in for more and more.

"I love you Neville," you cry when you finally have to pull away to catch your breaths. "Ever since I first met you. You and your twisted ankle."

He chuckles, tenderly wiping a tear from the apple of your cheek with his thumb. He scans over the room for a moment, as he feels your fingers come to dance over the dry trail of blood from his head wound.

"I don't think we're ever gonna leave this place," he says with a caress of your jaw.

Following his gaze, you giggle. Those beds you spent countless nights on, those countless concoctions and medical supplies you've had used on you, they're all here, scattered and battered around the room.

"That's why I came here instead of the Hall," you say, keeping one arm around your boyfriend's waist and unravelling the other to reveal an intact jar of creamy coloured ointment. "I'm so sorry, I must've scared you nuts."

"Scared me to death more like, but all I had to do was listen out for your sneezes. Turns out it isn't that hard to find you."

You poke your tongue out and he laughs. "That's so embarrassing. Always comes back to me being a Bogey Bug."

"Yeah," he smoothly pulls you in for an ardent kiss, "my Bogey Bug."

"You know what else I am?"

You're leaning against his arms that are wrapped around you and he watches as you take off the lid of the jar. Just like his fourth year, you use your fingers to scoop up a teaspoon of the cream.

"What? What else are you?"

You step out and take one of his hands, letting his palm sit over the top of yours. And then the cream is applied over the burns on the back of his hands. In spite of these burns looking way worse than his wound from Potions class back in his fourth year, the pain is still barely felt once the ointment's smoothed over. What's also killing the sting is looking at your breathtaking eyes. He's lost in them, distracted completely.

"I'm also your nurse," you finally say, wiping the excess over your hoody.

Neville's mouth curls into a smirk, snaking his arms around you again and pressing your bodies tightly together. "Well, nurse. My lips are feeling kind of sore, do you think you can fix them?"

You hum, eyes twinkling with mischief as your hands link behind his neck.

His gaze dips to your mouth, trying to fight the heat flowing to his cheeks and ears. There will never be a time when you won't make him nervous and giddy.

You mirror his action, eyes taking their time stare at his lips. "You know what, darling? I think I've got just the thing for you."

#neville x reader #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom x you #neville longbottom smut #neville longbottom x reader smut #neville longbottom x y/n

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bby-deerling · 5 months

Text

role reversal (zoro x reader)

you're not feeling well, zoro takes care of you (he's doing his best i swear). some self indulgent fluff! (been struggling with my chronic illness for the past couple days)

fluff, sickfic, wc: 552 masterlist

Zoro wasn’t used to you being the one in the infirmary bed.

During a training session, both of you working out in comfortable silence, he noticed a hint of discomfort on your face. Initially brushing it off as you working past your limits, he grinned with pride; however, it became increasingly clear to him as you slowed down your pace that something was deeply wrong.

The cook had served something at breakfast that was against your specialized diet plan; in your drowsy haze after keeping watch, you had eaten it without realizing and taken extra medicine afterwards to compensate, but it was now clear that your body was paying the price. Curled up in a fetal position, you mumble an apology for interrupting his workout as he scoops you up into his arms.

“Don’t worry about it.” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he carries you down the ladder and to the infirmary. When he drops you off with Chopper, he tries his best to stick around, but you can tell he feels off about leaving his training unfinished.

“Chopper’s got this handled. Go finish your workout.” you urge, squeezing his hand.

“You sure?” he asks, searching your eyes for any sort of doubt. He finds none when you nod at him. Satisfied that you’re in good hands, and grateful that you were understanding enough to let him finish his training regimen, he squeezes your shoulder and heads back to the Crow’s Nest, promising to be back soon.

When he returns, he brings your lunch with him; Sanji’s careful presentation and plating was completely ruined by Zoro poking at it roughly with a fork as he examined every element of the dish to ensure the cook's food wouldn't make your condition worse. The messy appearance of the food had no impact on the taste, but in your condition, you struggle to stomach more than a couple bites.

He understands, setting the plate off to the side to warm up later before crawling in bed beside you and pulling you close. Chopper was gone at the moment, and Zoro intended on using this brief time alone with you to make up for leaving your side earlier.

“Gonna kill the stupid cook for forgetting about the diet that Chopper put you on.” he grumbles as he rubs your stomach. You sigh, grateful for the touch but slightly embarrassed about the way your health had thrown off his whole day.

“My fault for eating it.” you say, letting out a deep exhale as you feel another spasm in your intestines. “Should’ve been more careful.”

“Not your fault. I should’ve noticed.” Zoro says, threading his fingers through your hair and rubbing comforting circles into your scalp. He smiles at the way you lean into his hand—you’re not a cat, but he swears he can feel you purring at his touch.

“I hope I didn’t knock your plans for the day too far off course.” you sigh, lacing your fingers with his on the hand he had wrapped around your waist.

“You didn’t. Only difference is we’re gonna take a nap in here instead of out there.” he says, motioning towards the deck.

He pauses a moment before he adds,

“Besides, it’s nice being the one to take care of you for a change.”

#one piece x reader #x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece scenario #my loveee

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calirph · 15 days

Text

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐄, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐄, 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

All quotes here have been taken from different sources of media, literature, television, movies and more regarding medieval or period drama quotes in the context of those stories, some might work on more modern setting but these were made with the intention of medieval and fantasy settings. Change names, pronouns and locations as you see fit.

I just wish he'd have the decency to say whatever he came to say in front of his wife.

His wife should track him like a bloodhound.

Let him who knows who he is be no other but himself.

Seduction, as you know by now, for women starts with the ears and for men starts with the eyes.

She is my friend, and there is nothing you can say or do that can stop me from helping her.

You seem a might bit distracted this evening. Is something the matter?

History belongs to those who write it.

But I have never lost faith... even if the world turned upside down I could still find you.

Some mistakes are bound to be repeated.

Do you plan on marrying Charles?

This is a time of change. This is a time of enormous power.

Do you understand the meaning of the soil beneath your feet?

The other Clans will soon arrive. The greatest times of our family are before us. And so are the darkest.

Tonight must be our secret. Swear it.

You pander to her. You spoil her. You make such a fuss over her when she tantrums. This is what happens when you raise a child like that.

I´ve always wanted him to love me the way I loved him.

We were arrogant and naive, thinking we knew what we felt then was love.

A man´s desire is a powerful thing. It can reduce a strong man to nothing. When he sees a woman who fascinates him, he will give up everything for her.

You are like a golden rose, a rare bloom but no less lovely.

So, you see, you're not the only ones who have lost someone. War doesn't discriminate, Petra.

What you think is indecent, I do to my wife every morning before breakfast. There is no such thing as indecent between a husband and a wife. The only thing indecent is a cold marriage bed.

The earl and I...We were... not intimate.

He fought in the war. He might fall apart, fly off the handle, go off the rails.

Mr. Russell, don’t you think I’m too young for you?

To be humiliated so publicly. I don't know. I never wished him ill.

He wasn’t quite what you’d hoped for, was he, Mother dear?

It is easier to start a war than to end it.

All I am guilty of is surviving, and for that, I will not apologize.

There is no law that gods must be fair, Achilles.

How many times can a heart be shattered and still be pieced back together?

She succeeds because she is loved and respected.

I have waited to see you again when none believed that you should ever return; I would have waited for ever.

Your lips are calling for me.

This is your home now. You're one of us, and we take care of our own.

You have a spine of steel and fire in your eyes, Rosalie.

I've never met anyone as kind as you are.

A little taste before the wedding, Jayden?

God’s given you to me, and as soon as He allows, I’ll claim you as my own.

I brought you something. It gets cold in Nashville in the wintertime.

It seems you want me at your mercy, Princess. The question is why?

I am a slave in your palace.

To speak my truth, even if my voice shakes.

What would you say if I asked to kiss you?

Will you allow me to kiss you?

Do I have a choice? Doesn’t it happen with or without our consent? Falling in love, that is.

I have the power, and you will obey me.

You’re a lady. It’s written all over you.

It is amazing what a woman can do if only she ignores what men tell her she can't.

I am not a besotted fool. If you think to jilt me, think again.

It's all my fault. He was trying to save me.

All things in Fiji are paid for in blood.

I have not forgotten that I am a Norman, nor the responsibilities that I bear.

I swear I will be a lady worthy of our family name, worthy of England, and worthy of my conscience.

Being set apart is lonely, until you find purpose.

My faith has promised me to me to my king.

I want your reputation... I want everything you have.

Remember when I told you I would marry none but a warrior, Collector?

I want you to be the father of my child, yes, more than any other man in the world.

I am the flesh of your flesh, and you are the heart of my heart.

My father fought against the infidels during the last crusade. It cost him his life.

Grace saves us, but is not grace beautiful? I think it must be full womanly, even, to draw men in, and to give us a second birth.

Marriage is less about love and more about who is right.

A woman's life is never a fairy tale ... neither is war.

You're not made of kings, boy, but of common clay.

I'm Uther's daughter and sole heir: Morgan Pendragon.

Who better than you, King Lot, my father's strongest opponent.

If we forge a union, we'd have the strength to unite the realm. As King and Queen.

Ambition for its own sake is worthless.

Uther's daughter, Arthur's sister. You can't be defined by others. People need to know you for yourself.

The past doesn't matter. Define yourself in the present, and you might rule in the future.

We are going to build a land full of hope and honor where fear is extinguished, to which people will flock from far and wide, seeking out our beacon of light.

With a little luck, in time, you might fall in love with him. And if you don't, before you know it,he'll give you children, and then you'll love them.

Well, the most enticing aspect for any man is the forbidden. But you'll just have to forego the looks from men other than your husband.

What exactly do you think I'm capable of?

To forget myself. To lose the world for a moment.

One rumour of my death, and you proclaim a new leader! A king could get offended.

If she takes the crown, I'll tell you what you get. Fear!

You have no rights in this kingdom anymore.

#meme #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #◟ ⋆ memes › roleplay sources.#medieval meme #historical fiction meme #fantasy meme #medieval fantasy meme

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vintagemulti · 4 months

Text

shards and splinters

parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.

warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷🏻‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx

a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x

series masterlist

masterlist

the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.

he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.

there was nothing you could have done, marc.

“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”

steven sighed, and went quiet.

“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”

marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.

he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.

steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.

are you going to wallow here forever?

marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.

“fuck off.”

khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.

“fuck off.” he repeated.

and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?

“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”

khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?

“no.”

perhaps you should.

marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.

“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”

if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.

and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.

she’s alive?

“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”

his eyes slipped into the back of his head.

steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.

“this feels so fucking weird.”

you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.

i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.

you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.

you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.

“where is he?”

it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.

humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.

what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.

harrow was less than two feet away from you.

swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.

but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.

the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.

it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?

apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.

this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.

his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.

you could slither away too, though.

still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.

as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.

we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.

nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.

this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.

perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.

your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.

“what is harrow’s plan?”

he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.

“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.

he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.

you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”

hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.

for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.

why did you marry him?

it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.

“what?”

marc. why did you marry him?

you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.

i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.

“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”

and?

“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”

the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.

“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”

he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?

“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.

he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.

i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”

you regret it?

“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.

oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.

it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”

didn’t it take a while to get used to?

the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.

“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.

he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”

hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.

“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.

i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.

“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.

take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.

you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”

you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?

“no.”

then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.

you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.

“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”

a beat. hathor didn’t reply.

“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”

you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.

“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.

he said that the baby had died, that they weren’t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”

tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.

“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.

and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”

why did you hate him?

you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.

and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.

he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.

but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.

and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”

hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.

you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.

her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”

hathor shook her head. you are a human being.

there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.

is now a bad time, human?

you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”

what do i want? there’s a long list.

even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”

hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.

the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.

i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.

just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.

your heart stopped.

marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…

“y/n!”

just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.

“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.

you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.

he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.

marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.

“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”

“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”

he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.

“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”

barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.

but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.

if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.

“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.

“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”

he blinked. a beat.

“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”

“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”

steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”

he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.

“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”

you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.

but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.

you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.

but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.

it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.

the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.

he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.

‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.

it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;

it wasn’t you.

well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.

you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.

trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.

and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.

so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.

what a lovely shopping list, you thought.

it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.

with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.

the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.

of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.

no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.

a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.

the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.

“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”

beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.

oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?

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stuffeddeer · 6 months

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i came across your blog a few days ago and all i could think of is deerlike/fawnlike darling 😭 someone who’s sensitive and shy, a bit vulnerable !! would go so well with any of the dazais omg

YOURE SO RIGHT imma delve into a few different variations :)

Deludedly obsessed Dazai would view your deer-like traits as something inherently weak. It’s something that makes you sensitive and ill-equipped for the cruel world he grew up in. Since he’s well versed in the cruelties of life, Dazai can make sure you stay safe, right? He takes it up as his job to look after you and keep you safe, remaining close at all times when he can be. If you work in the agency alongside him, he makes sure to pull you onto missions that he’s already leading or will pawn off whatever he’s working on to join yours. He works at the agency, sure, but his job is to look after you. If you find him scary, that's merely because of how many people must have been able to wrong you in the past! It's not like it's hard to, in fact, he could easily— no.

That's why he needs to protect you, to keep you away from people like himself. Oda would want him to help out the poor and defenseless, right? Even if you can't accept that yet, you'll understand in a matter of time. Or you won't, and Dazai will have to take more... drastic measures.

Dazai who knows his obsession for you is wrong will start out thinking similar things — how easy you would be to manipulate (he hates that that’s his first thought), how much he should make sure to keep you safeguarded and out of harm’s way — but try to put a stop to it. If you work in an office job or something similar, he’ll be sure to remind himself that you’ve made it this far, and it’s not like you’ll be stumbling into trouble any time soon. To keep his mind from unraveling and his obsession and anxieties from worsening, he’ll follow you home after work under the blanketed night sky, reminding himself the whole time that you’re safe. And if anyone tries to harm you? …

He’d have such an urge to just keep you at his home, safe and away from the cruel outside, but he knows that’s wrong; Dazai knows how sad you’d be and while you’d have no way to fight back, he’d feel so guilty watching you break down in front of him. Looking after you is all he wants to do, including emotionally. But maybe feeling a little sad at the beginning is better than someone hurting you…

As much as he tries to fight it, Dazai knows you’d be better off staying by him all the time.

Manipulative and harsh Dazai who gets some sick joy out of your timid demeanor. He’ll want to crush your spirit, prove that your invulnerability is nothing more than a weakness he intends to exploit. You work in some sort of cozy shop mainly by yourself (ie coffeehouse, flower shop, something cutesy) and it almost makes him sick - how can someone be so sweet and innocent? He wants that for himself and you make it far too easy to obtain. A few kind words and polite smiles and he knows he’s become your favorite customer, even if he never buys anything. He brings you a coffee one day out of the goodness of his heart and Dazai swears he sees hearts in your eyes. He builds up a rapport so quickly and smoothly you don’t notice the red flags (how he always seems to know your schedule, favorite coffee..) and dismiss your co-worker’s worries. There’s no way he could be so rude and flippant with them, it’s not in his nature!

And when you get fired after some anonymous customer continuously claimed you were horribly rude to them, Dazai was there to console you. You find yourself at his place much more often, spending time solely with him as your friends begin to ghost you. As thanks to the man who kept you afloat during all of this, you’d stay and help around Dazai’s apartment, cleaning up and bringing him food… and when he mentioned how lonely it gets, well, what kind of friend would you be if you didn’t stay the night? And the next one. And the next…

Once you’ve all but entirely been kidnapped moved in, Dazai reminds himself that the world out there is cruel. So, if you miss being outside so much, then he’ll gladly bring the harsh world to you.

Possessive loser Dazai who doesn’t want your vulnerability and (as he views it) “pureness” tainted by someone else, but is happy just watching you stumble from afar. He swoops in during your date with a friend, dragging you out claiming that they were planning on hurting you! He just wants to keep you safe, don’t you understand that? And you do. You so pliantly nod as you thank him, letting out a sigh of relief that Dazai saved you yet again. How do you keep picking these horrible people?

One night, last minute, you went out with a few friends, and Dazai found out the next day. He spent all day avoiding you, angry beyond belief that you could be so stupid! Don’t you know they’re all the same?! He’s just trying to keep you safe! You’re so sensitive, so malleable; the last thing he wants is for some assholes to make you do something you don’t want to (never mind you saying you had fun). You apologize profusely, because of course you do: Dazai is your best friend.

Port Mafia Dazai whose only basis for relationships comes from Mori and his ability. He knows it’s wrong, right? But when he sees you, so shy and easy to scare, his mind is made up: You are too good for the Mafia. He takes you back to his small shipping container and decides he’d be the one to take care of you, like Mori does with Elise. His paychecks begin to go towards frilly outfits and soft pajamas for his darling, expensive cakes he wants to see you try and the same kind of crayons he saw Elise forcing the Boss to buy a few days ago. You’re well pampered and still so shy and polite, which is why Dazai is so aggravated when you finally ask to feel the sun on your skin once more. He’s sacrificed so much to keep you happy and spoiled, but you still ask for more?…

…He buys you a big house away from Yokohama’s port with big glass walls for you to enjoy the sun.

I imagine a more work-oriented or apathetic Port Mafia Dazai would be the only rendition that doesn’t treat you like a frail doll. Your vulnerable and shy side is cute, sure, but that can be a skill. He’d send you on missions to lure and attack like Kyouka or undercover, as no one expects such a shy person to be apart of the feared organization. He would spend his time training and mentoring you like Akutagawa, but he wouldn’t be nearly as harsh. You don’t have the ability and skills Akutagawa does, but you still should know basic self defense. Who knows? Maybe one day he’ll wrap you up in bandages and train you to follow in his footsteps.

#anon i dont know if you wanted like. animal hybrid reader or just shy reader so i just gravitated towards the latter!#can be kinda ambiguous ig? anyway #I LOVE ALL DAZAIS!!!#THEY ALL CAN DO WWHATEVER IDC IDC #i included some pm!dazai but i dnt rlly write 4 him so sorry if its bad lol #this got long but i wanted to include many dazais !#i love himm yall get it #if this isnt what you wanted anon im sorry 😭 im new to taking rqs!#🦌anon #🦌request #possessive loser dazai is aromantic to me btw..#bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd scenarios #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai bsd #bsd imagines #bsd x gender neutral reader #dazai imagines #yandere dazai osamu #yandere dazai osamu x reader #yandere dazai x reader #yandere drabble #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader

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nelyos-right-hand · 7 months

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I've been reading post-reembodiement fics lately, and Fëanor trying to fix his relationship with his sons/ making amends for his mistakes is a pretty common occurrence in them.

Whenever that happens Curufin is almost always the first to forgive his father, and if Fëanor starts to make stupid choices again, he is often the first to support him.

And I see why many people see it that way. In the Silm, Celegorm and Curufin are their father's strongest supporters and the most ruthless when it comes to following their oath. Curufin is also described to be Fëanor Junior and they probably had a very close relationship.

But what if that changes after the first age?

Through the entire first age, Curufin continued to believe in the oath and their father. Sure, the others followed the oath as well, but I don't think that any of them did it because they actually believed in it.

Maedhros did it because Fingon was dead and he had stopped caring. Maglor, Caranthir and the Ambarussar did it because the oath was driving them. Celegorm did it because he was no longer sane and wanted revenge and bloodshed. He did it because he was hurting and now it was time for others to hurt.

But Curufin still did it for Fëanor. Because yes, right now things were looking pretty bad, but in the end everything would turn out fine. They were going to get the Silmaril, and then they were going to defeat Morgoth, fulfill their oath and make their father proud. Things were still going according to plan. Curufin himself might be unable to see it right now, but that's just because Fëanor was a genius. He had planned for this because he wouldn't have made them swear the oath if he hadn't, right? Everything was gonna be fine, all he had to do was trust his father.

But then suddenly he turned around just in time to see Dior drive his sword through Celegorm's chest. And he didn't even have time to process that because in the next moment he was hit by an arrow, and another, and another, and another.

Curufin didn't live very long after that, maybe two or three seconds. But in that time he realized something.

Things were not going according to plan. They couldn't because there was no plan. Fëanor didn't have any idea what he was doing when he swore the oath. And he most certainly didn't have his sons' welfare in mind at that moment.

They wouldn't get the Silmarils, not even one of them. They wouldn't fulfill the oath and they wouldn't defeat Morgoth. They wouldn't even survive.

Celegorm was dead and Curufin was dying and their other brothers would die soon too, and it would all be for nothing. He had spend the last five-hundred years believing in and fighting for a purpose that wasn't even a real purpose but the fantasies of a dead madman.

He had been betrayed by the person he loved most and now he would die for him.

(Hint-Celebrimbor-hint)

(Alright, so Fëanor didn't actually betray Curufin because that would mean that he did it on purpose or that he had any ill intentions towards him. That, of course, wasn't the case because Fëanor did love his sons dearly, he just, you know, went absolutely mad after Finwë's death. Curufin just feels betrayed because he is dying and stuff.)

So back in Valinor Curufin has the most trouble forgiving his father. That surprises Fëanor as much as the rest of the family cause it kind of contradicts his actions in his previous life but maybe death does that to people.

In the end he does forgive him of course, but it takes some time to fix their relationship and it takes way longer for him to trust Fëanor again then it did for the rest of his sons.

These are just some loose thoughts cause it's the middle of the night and I'm bored but I think it's interesting because it's different from what we usually see of Curufin.

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haknom · 7 months

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ALONE AT PROM? — NISHIMURA RIKI

PAIRING: playboy!niki x crush-fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: Nishimura Riki, Earl Grey High's most known playboy. He constantly earned the title as ‘who's most likely to become a frat boy’ for the past 2 years and being a senior wouldn’t make a difference. But watching him chase after someone who doesn’t seem to like him back was quite shocking on his end—he never experienced it before. And for his highschool life to be complete, he need to ask you out for prom. Why? Great question. Still, with your frequent ignorance of his presence things only became even harder.

GENRE(S): written series, highschool au, nonidol au, playboy/troublemaker!riki, onesided enemies to lovers, slight sports au, and onesided pinning (for a bit)!

WARNINGS: riki is a homewrecker and is jealous, swearing (i forgot), proofread like half of this, lmk if i missed anything

WORDCOUNT: 1505 words

NOTE: see i was supposed to post this yesterday but i fell asleep and woke up to do hw LMAOO so im posting it now and ill begin writing chapter 4 soon !!! tysm for the support on chapter one im glad u guys enjoy niki being a red flag 😭😭

TAGLIST IS OPEN! 👑 send an ask or reply to be added.

PREV / MLIST / NEXT

CHAPTER TWO. gross, romance.

Physics was never Riki’s strongest subject, and of course, he always took it to his advantage with a sly smile on his face. It was obvious to everyone that he was going after you. Everyone thought you were his next so-called target, but that truly wasn’t the case; at least Riki knew.

He couldn’t help but chase after you as if he were a lost puppy. To be honest, he doesn’t know what caused it. His feelings even took him by surprise. Although the two of you have been attending Earl Grey High for the past three years, he only noticed you during your Junior year.

Maybe it was the way you smiled at others when walking through the halls or how focused you were trying to unlock your locker—who knows? You still managed to catch Riki’s eye. Since then, he’s always bothered you. You soon began to develop a hatred for the boy due to how much of a disturbance to your studies he could be.

Riki leaned back into his chair, arms crossed over his chest, as he tried his best to listen to the lesson. He really did try, but nothing about Physics sounded interesting to him. Instead, his eyes stayed staring at you, who sat a few seats ahead of him. Through his peripheral vision, he spotted Junghwan, who seemed more annoyed than ever. It left Riki satisfied.

“Alright, please take the rest of the period to work on the assigned sheets. I’ll be collecting them tomorrow.” Mr. Jeong instructed as everyone got to work. Riki grabbed his sheets and phone, leaving his pencil behind on purpose.

Regularly, you would move your desk closer to Junghwan and work together, but today wasn’t the case. As you prepared yourself to push your desk towards his, a taller figure walked right in between you two. “Excuse me,” Riki interrupted, earning scowls from you and Junghwan. He took a seat in front of you with a teasing look all over his face.

“Sorry, am I disrupting something?” He asked even if he didn’t care at all. “You kind of are,” Junghwan informed the boy as Riki shrugged. “Anywho,” He said, staring right at you. “What?” You asked with a vivid, annoyed expression on your face.

“I don’t understand the concept.” Riki rested his arms on top of the seat he sat on, causing the sleeves of his uniform coat to rile up his forearms as you raised a brow at him. “Why is that my problem?” You asked again, your expression never faltering. “I mean, you’re one of the top students in class. Plus,” he said, pointing at the board with writing everywhere. “You’re one of the helpers.” He wasn’t wrong about his words.

You couldn’t say no either. “Fine.” You gave in, earning a slight smile from the boy in front of you. If someone stared hard enough, they could most likely see the tiny hearts forming in his eyes. He was quite literally obsessed. “Where’s your pencil?” Your eyes scanned his closed fists, but no pencil was spotted. “You don’t have one, do you?” He shook his head at your words as you sighed.

You handed him yours and searched your pencil case for a new one. “Here.” Junghwan handed you a pencil with a loving smile. You returned the smile and took the pencil into your hand, causing Riki to roll his eyes. So what if he was Jealous? “What don’t you understand?” You asked, your eyes meeting his. “Everything.” He replied as your brow furrowed. You sighed, realizing how long this would really take.

There will most likely be no time to work with Junghwan. Quite sad, but not for Riki. He was glad and internally smiling like a toddler on Christmas morning. This was almost like a blessing for him. All he had to imagine was that you two were alone and on a study date without Junghwan. That wouldn’t be so hard, right?

“See, if I were (Name), I would hate you too,” Jungwon said while kicking at the mini rocks in between the detailing of the bleachers. “I’m being so honest, Jwon, I could treat her way better than Junghoe,” Riki said, adjusting his resting position against the bleachers behind them. “It’s Junghwan. And I highly doubt it.” Jungwon laughed as Riki shrugged.

“Hear me out. There’s something so suspicious about him.” Riki said. “Or are you just jealous that he’s dating the literal love of your life?” Jungwon asked. “Ouch?” Riki gasped at Jungwon’s words. Was he always this harsh?

The sudden ding that emerged from Riki’s phone caught both of their attention. “Oh, my mom needs something from the store after school,” Riki said, summarizing the message he just received. He looked over at Jungwon while putting his phone away. “Do you want to come?” He asked, but Jungwon shook his head.

“Can’t. I have to study for my math test.” Jungwon answered as Riki sighed. Of course. He nodded at Jungwon’s response and made a mental note to stop at the dollar store after school. “Listen,” Riki started while rising from his spot on the bleachers.

“If my suspicions end up being right, you owe me one,” Riki said, earning a confused look from Jungwon. “What’s in it for me?” He asked as Riki shrugged. “No clue. What do you want?” Jungwon pondered Riki’s words. What did he want? There was nothing he really needed at the moment.

“I’ll think about it. Don’t go causing trouble though, remind you, he’s the student president after all.” Jungwon warned. “Okay, okay. I won't trust me.” Riki said with a ‘promising’ smile. “You’re lying, aren’t you?” Jungwon asked as Riki broke character, letting out a teasing smile. Yeah, I am,” Riki said.

Jungwon softly pushed Riki with narrowed eyes. He knew how much of a rascal Riki could be at times after being around him 24/7. It was only natural for an interaction like this to happen frequently.

Riki pulled his hood over his head and made a knot with the drawstrings. All that could be seen were his eyes. He was truly lucky to have a spare hoodie in his locker to hide his school uniform. The task he was sent to do was quite embarrassing. Nobody could see him buying foot fungus treatment.

He walked into the dollar store, looking more suspicious than ever. Many would've thought that he was currently on his way to steal, but he wasn’t the type to do that. Yes, he might seem like a bad person and a huge troublemaker, but breaking laws wasn’t something Riki found cool.

He searched the aisles for the item that should not be named. He read every sign, hoping that he would come across it quickly so he could leave quickly. But sadly, to his dismay, his plan wouldn’t work. The good news was that he, sadly, found the correct aisle, but the bad news was even worse.

The treatment wasn’t in a small box like he expected, instead, it was in a bigger box. One that couldn’t even fit in his pockets. So he panicked. What could he do? They didn’t sell plastic bags, and there was no way he’d have enough money left to buy a reusable one.

He grabbed the box, accepting the fact that his reputation was practically gone. He sighed and made his way to the self-checkout line, hiding the box under the hem of his navy blue hoodie. Yes, he looked suspicious, but hey, at least he’s paying for the item, unlike others. Riki waited for the line to move, him being the next to go as he stared out the windows in the hope that time would move faster if he was distracted.

The sun was starting to set as its orange gleam rested on the trees and cars that drove past. His eyes scanned the area, reading the random signs he had never noticed before as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, but clearly, there were other things he hadn’t noticed before, like the handholding of a couple who smiled brightly at each other. They were practically sending hearty eyes to one another as the boyfriend landed a kiss on the girlfriend’s forehead.

Riki rolled his eyes and held back a gag. “Gross, romance.” He mumbled. Yes, he’d been chasing after the same girl for the past year, but it was only fine if he did it. No one else. He even went to a dollar store that was nowhere near his neighbourhood or school. There was no way anyone would see him at this rate—or so he thought.

His eyes narrowed, brows furrowing, as he looked back out the window of the dollar store he stood in. The couple were passing the last window as their faces finally came into view. The orange gleam from the setting sun disappeared for a brief moment, making things even more visible to Riki.

There was absolutely no way he was seeing this right.

TAGLIST BATCH ONE: @soov @redm4ri @ox1-lovesick @urszn @feeeli @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @ddeonudepressions @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa @yeokii @yyunari @wvnkoi @flwrshee @strwberrydinosaur @gibbysupremeacyisreal @rikizm @teddywonss @whoschr @misokei @forjungwons @sourdiary @ririlovesrenjun @enhaz1 @cha3w0n-hearts @ashy1um @lovelovelovebts @jxp1-t3r @haechansbbg @soobs-things @j-wyoung @en-chantedtomeetyou @dolletesera @im-yn-suckers @imsiriuslyreal @ilychee08 @nishik1 @namdeyoui @lovelovelovebts @jlheon @hueningkslvr @s00buwu @envirae @latriii @beomsbeanie @rikicito @annoyingbitch83 @shawnyle @en-happiness @sungwhoonz (TAGLIST IS OPEN!)

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multifan2022 · 2 months

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*kinda scared to post this.. Defiantly not my normal territory. Love the damn show though, dont care. Hope its decent. Picturing Cassius as Jacob Elordi. Maybe part 2? if it goes over well, if so ideas? idk if i can even write anymore for real 😶 this took me so fricken long.*

Masterlist

Tiktok that inspired this 1st tiktok and 2nd tiktok

Sighing you looked up at.. What did that say? “Hazbin Hotel”.. “Oookay.” You said drawn out sarcastically as you looked down and closed your eyes. You knew you had to go in, you owed this to your Dark Lady. You swore to her that you would look after her daughter, she had given you everything you ever wanted. Knocking you brace yourself with a smile for your niece Charlie who you could already hear squealing.

You do smile though that she throws herself at you and hugs you while bouncing on her toes. Vaggie smiles softly while telling her girlfriend that she should bring you inside. Soon your sitting in front of Husk who's making you a drink, Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor and finally Angel and Sir Pentious. The last two had seemed in almost aw when you had finally stepped inside fully and reached up to drop your hood and remove your cloak. Honestly you were use to it, even if it was always flattering.

As a devout follower of The Dark Lady, Lilith, in your human life you were granted a doll like version of the look you always wanted in life. BUT your time was highly coveted, you had many things to do, even more so in her ladys absence. The seat at her table was something you worked hard for, and something you would never be giving up. You would be here when she returned. “This whole idea is beautiful sweetie. You know if you ever need something, Ill do everything I can to help.” From beside you, you swear you feel Pentious’ tongue touch you when he speaks. He's so close. “I bet your powerful!”

You smile while looking down, it was a play at shyness but Alastor and Husk could see right through it. “How did such a beaut end up here anyways!” Angel said, laughing and throwing himself on the couch. “Here as in??” You circled your finger in the air “Hell.. or the Hotel?” Ending with pointing at the floor. Hearing a static “Both” you looked at the Radio Demon, under different circumstances you would be creeped out by his never falling smile. But for some reason you werent, you hadnt been scared of anyone in a long time so it wasnt that. But moving on you took a deep breath and said nonchalantly “I'm a follower of Lady Lilith, so of course I ended up here.”

Husk half chuckled, half scoffed and your head snapped with unnatural speed to him. Chills shot down his neck as the smile on your lips and the look in your eye. He could almost feel you skinning him, when you crossed one leg over your knee and leaned onto the counter and smiled at him he wanted to run. “Ok pussycat.. You wanna know why I'm here.. Let me show you.” Waving your hand a deep deep red smoke encompassing the room as everyone felt the floor fall from under them next thing they knew, they were all standing somewhere none of them knew. Ancient Greece. “Never speak to me again, Cassius!” They heard before turning and falling into your memory.

Storming down the hall you had never felt such pain, such anger and betrayal. You felt broken. Your favorite colored shorter toga dress whipped around your thighs as you ran. You didn't even know where you were too, running until your toes hit the water. Then your knees as you start screaming until your throat is raw before sobbing. “Why??” You cried softly trying to understand how one person could feel so much pain and still be alive. You were thinking that you wish you could just die. That there would never be someone who would understand this pain before feeling warmth wrap around you. Opening your eyes to the most beautiful woman standing before you. Well, she kinda stood before you, she was fuzzy, almost ghost-like. “Don't cry daughter of Lilith, let us take care of this.” As she spoke she tilted her head, the smile on her face taking over a savage edge. As she faded your anger grew, any other feeling gone, any thought besides revenge then death gone.

Behind you, you heard your name being shouted. By him.. By the man who had betrayed you. The man you had been seeing, giving yourself too. Who you were supposed to marry tomorrow. You had found him out for a stroll with his son.. His son and his wife.. A son and a wife you clearly didn't know about. His face had dropped when his eyes connected with yours, both of your worlds freezing. Because the problem was, he truly did love you. He didn't come from a very wealthy family, so this marriage, he couldn't mess it up. His father would kill him, and probably you. He didnt know what he was going to do or tell you tomorrow. But now he didnt need too, but he had broken your heart in the worst way. He just wanted a moment to try to explain.

Unfortunately for him, the moment your heart broke, someone powerful stepped in. She had been waiting for you, Lilith. She could feel the impending heart break from hell and knew she had to step in. She didnt feel connected to living women often so when she did, she paid attention. She had grasped and pulled forward the woman she wanted you to be. Allowed you to embrace your rage and take an inhuman amount of power, one you knew without words would kill you. You felt a weird calm, an almost buzzing hot but calm numbness spread across your skin as you stood. Your voice was low, but somehow Cassius heard it. “Get in the water.”

You heard him stop , could somehow feel him just at the edge as the waves barley lapped the tips of his sandals. “Get in the water” you repeated your voice deeper than he had ever heard, raspy from crying but carried something.. Something that gave him goosebumps. All the hairs on his hairs and neck standing on end, his guts screaming at him to run. He watched the fingers on your left run slowly through the water, the setting sun sparklingly off your now useless engagement ring. He audibly gulped as you slowly turned to him, black veins around your eyes and spreading from your finger tips and throat. “Or Ill raise the tide so high..” You looked down at his feet as a slightly larger wave splashed his toes “All of Delos will die..” Looking him in the eyes he jumped, there was a slight glow to your eyes, almost gold mixed with red. He was terrified.

“Get in the water.”

Taking a panicked breath he feels water.. Hitting.. His calves? Looking down his panic increases “Wait..” His mind is speeding down any and every possible avenue but its coming up with nothing but fear. Fear so encompassing as he hears you tell him again, and he swears he sees you take a step forward. “Stop” he says in a desperate shout, the waves now up to his knees. “Stop this.. Please.” he begs as you tilt your head and take another slow step toward him. He sounds so pathetic you think as you ball your hands into fists, his wife stumbling onto the sand as well, pulling their son behind her. She calls out to him, but Cassius cant look away from the woman in front of him.

Are the veins glowing now? Is your hair? Is it moving, whipping back and forth wildly? You could feel the anger rising, it was an all encompassing avalanche of emotions. Seeing her made all that pain real again, pulled it past the surface, shoved you over your breaking point. A tiny, very small part of you felt bad for the child as you refocused on his father. Turning to look back at him, you have a small evil smirk on your face. Unclenching your hands and raising them slowly to inspect your palms you spoke again. “Ill make tidal waves so profound..” Cocking your head to the other side your eyes flick to the woman who screams Cassius again. The smirk spreads into a full grin “Both your wife and your son will drown.”

“NO!” He screams anguish, panic, fear its all right there. Suddenly your in his face. The wind harshly blowing around both of you now, your hair flying this way and that in soft caresses across your cheeks and forehead. Your breathing the same air, his anguished puff of air as he tries to find the words, the feelings, the anything to give you to calm you down. To fix this. But he jumps when you next speak, the volume and the venom in your voice scare any half thoughts he had away. “GET IN THE WATER!” Now the waves, they arent small calm waves crashing gently on his legs.

They are slamming into them, the water up to his hips, now reaching his wife and sons feet as others gather and panic starts to ensue. People are screaming behind him, but no one will come any closer. The fear and uncertainty was pabable. The smile on your face kept growing, the glow in your eyes now bright and eerie. “GET IN THE WATER!!” You screamed again, taking a step back and turning before spinning back and grabbing his neck with both hands. You were tall for a woman, but Cassius was taller. It was one of things you always loved about him. In your rage you pulled him to you by his throat. He has no idea how your so steady on your feet. He is rocking back and forth, his sandals being sucked into the sand by retreating water.

Squeezing as you started to pull him with you, stepping backwards. Keeping eye contact, it was controlling, you didnt know how you were doing it. But as you kept talking it was like you were compelling him. Letting go as you spun the two of you around and point out towards the open sea. You were so close your noses were touching, he could feel your lips brush against his as you whispered. “ Dont mistake my threats for bluff. You have lived more than enough..” Cassius knew he was dead, he could feel his body moving against his will. Somehow your whisper shook him to the bone, deeper than anything else had.

He looked toward his son one last time, mouthed ‘i love you’ as his feet drug him deeper. Without ever looking at his wife, he turned his gaze back to you. He looked at you with such despair, but also understanding. He KNEW he hurt you, he KNEW that you were an outsider. You had come here from one of the tribes on the main land. He knew your gods and his were different. It had never bothered him, but now hes thinking he shouldve listened harder. Shouldve known better. Shouldve loved you correctly.

Tears streaming down your cheeks, you could feel yourself dying. Whatever that woman had given you was fading. You were running out of time. You wanted to see him die. When he smiled sadly at you and mouthed that he loved you to a violent heat pulsed over you. You felt like you were on fire as you stormed in anger towards him, grabbing his throat again and shoving him down. “GET IN THE WATER!” You scream one last time, before following him with the pull of the waves into the ocean.

The last thing you remember besides happiness and warmth, was seeing him sinking deeper into the darkness.

Snapping your fingers you released everyone from your hold. Sir Pentious started to gag, his little egg buddies having passed out or thrown up. Everyone looks shocked, even Alastor is momentarily without his sinister grin. Not even a full breath later, Angel and Husk are badgering you with questions. How did you get the power? Where you a follower in life or was this chance? Is your ex here in hell? That doesnt tell us how powerful you are down here! Charlie at some point rewrapped herself around you and is crying for your broken heart. Your patting her head and smiling while answering all of the questions and showing off little tricks.

Never noticing the tall dark demon behind you, still slightly stunned.. In what he thinks is.. Awe?

“Hm.. This wont due.”

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor imagine

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the-milkmans-bbg · 2 months

Note

This might be a weird request but can you do one where you and the Mercenaries have been dating for awhile when suddenly y/n gets sick out of nowhere and eventually find out they're pregnant so they tell their Merc partner?

Yeah of course I'll do this!! This one will include scout ⚾,medic 💊, and sniper 🦘

Tw: talk of sex and other sexual things

MERCS WITH A PREGNANT READER!!!

🔞18+ dni if younger🔞

Scout ⚾ !!!

When you first start showing symptoms of sickness he's the first to assume your pregnant cause y'all be fucking like rabbits I swear 💀

But you try to assure him your not cause secretly you're kind of worried to

So when you do find out you're pregnant you're officially freaking the fuck out. You now scouts gonna be a good dad, but what if he doesn't want a kid?

Scout notices you're down and asks you what's wrong. When you fess up and tell him your pregnant well he initially freaks out wondering about every possibility ever.

But soon he calms down and thinks things through. Eventually he comes to the conclusion he wants to be a dad!

He'll hug and kiss you over and over again because of how happy he is. He wants to be the greatest dad ever especially since he never had one. He doesn't want that for his kids he is gonna literally defend him/her with his life.

Medic 💊 !!!

When you first start showing symptoms of illness both of you are mellow about it. Neither of you seem to believe there was any possibility you were pregnant. Unlike what most think I believe medic is one of those people who always wears protection during sex

Though there was one time a few days ago when he went without protection cause you both were trying out new kinks and stuff like that. And a breeding kink just so happened to be one of them.

When medic realizes this he's almost ecstatic about it. I personally think he's always wanted to be a father no matter how crazy he was. Just the thought of teaching his child about different subjects got him excited.

So when you bring him a positive test he's literally the happiest man alive no kidding. Like he's praising you kissing your stomach the whole ten miles.

Safe to say he's a proud dad

Sniper 🦘 !!!

Bro is frantic when you've been throwing up for the past few days. He's definitely the type to breed you to the brim but he never thought he'd actually get you pregnant!??

After you approach him with the positive test he's having a panic attack.

Like a bad on. What if he's not a good dad? What if something goes wrong during the pregnancy? What if, what if what if?

It's not like he doesn't want to be a dad he really does it's just hard for him.

He doesn't understand how to parent but that can be something you two can learn together 🩷

In conclusion he's a very scared yet happy new dad

#tf2 x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic #headcanon

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yandere-sins · 1 year

Note

What do you think would happen if Hephaestus and Ares were after the same darling? Honestly I’m over here wondering if Aphrodite is going to get involved. That is her husband and lover we’re talking about here.

I love this! Thank you for requesting ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

♡ The other gods are way ahead of Hephaestus when it comes to having and taking care of a darling for many reasons. So when he does take a follower of his as a companion, it's a big topic on Olympus. Everyone is endlessly curious to see who he has taken a liking to. However, they realize very quickly that while he's not mistreating his darling, he treats you differently than they would.

♡ Mainly, you have too much freedom. Clearly, you have your own mind, even when sitting next to the god who chose you, telling him 'no' when you don't want to eat or drink what he offers you, and when other gods talk to you, you never ask for permission from him before replying. Your clothes are partially stained by ash, which is quite a display between all the neat, clean darling. Like master, like men.

♡ But regardless, they can see what you mean to him. You wear more fine jewelry than even the gods do, much less the darlings on their laps. And even in your defiant freedom and dirty clothes, you seem to be outright shining. It's no wonder some gods gulp at the sight of you while they scowl at their fellow god, Hephaestus still unable to do right in their eyes, even though you seem to be content.

♡ There are a few head's you turned that night, but to no one's surprise, Aphrodite is seething in her seat, unable to share her husband no matter how she feels about him. She hates how much he adorns and adores you, showing you off with her paling in comparison. Even though the gods don't swear complete loyalty to each other (much less those two), she can't find it in her to share the spotlight with such an ill-behaved darling as you are. It only worsens when she notices that Ares, too, seems interested in 'treating you better' than Hephaestus does. Strong-willed individuals have always intrigued him. Seeing you live by your own devices rather than following everything Hephaestus tells you to does the trick for him.

♡ You are definitely the talk on Olympus, but once you return 'home', you couldn't be less bothered by it. There, you only have to do the housework if necessary, care for Hephaestus, listen to him, and otherwise occupy yourself while your god is working the days away. You are alone but not lonely. You had to come to terms with your situation, no matter how much you miss being a mere human. But knowing how the other darlings are treated, you try to keep it together to avoid ending up like them. So you don't expect visitors to knock on your door one day while you're alone.

♡ Much less do you expect a charming, flirtatious god to intrude into your private space. Considering your position, there's little you can do but be welcoming. However, even as you run around to prepare some ambrosia, you always have Ares's unwavering fixation on you. It doesn't take him long to get to the point of his visit, questions about if you are unhappy and feeling like you're lacking something in your life leaving his lips as soon as he forces you to sit down with him.

♡ Even though he murmurs his words gently, purring them into your ear, Ares feels off. His hand lingers on your body, pushing back your hair or sliding down your arm. Until eventually, with his breath holding, he links your fingers with his, pulling your hand into his lap. Everything he does seems inappropriate for a Priestess of another god, much too intimate, so it leaves you uncomfortable. You have to obey his whims, but it still feels wrong. Even if you tell him you're fine, he doesn't give up. He pulls you back against his side and cages you between his arm and body, asking the same questions repeatedly until you crack. When you finally admit something silly, like wishing you had a certain meal or see your family again. That's enough confirmation for him that you are clearly not cared for, and as such, he asks you to change your devotion since Ares can take so much better care of you.

♡ There's a moment of wavering inside you as he swears to you how he will always look out for your needs and do what he can to make your position by his side as comfortable as possible. You saw his darlings, the defiant, furious expressions etched into their faces while Ares forced them on his lap and to serve him. The way they seemed to want to stab his weapons into his body as he made them hold them while he carelessly celebrated. You didn't know what happened to them behind closed doors, but they didn't seem happy. His promises sounded too good, knowing that his darlings hated him with a passion. And even if... did you really want to change your constant peace and freedom with Hephaestus into servitude for another god? You'd never be completely rid of them no matter what you did, but would there be a better god to serve as one that wasn't as demanding of you?

♡ The decision is taken from you as Hephaestus unexpectedly shows up, bursting through the door. The scowl he's giving you makes you feel like you did something wrong, even though it's clear from your tense body that this isn't your doing at all. Thankfully, he immediately latches onto Ares, yelling and hissing about rules you had never heard about before. About manners and overstepping. Nevertheless, Hephaestus pushes you behind him protectively as he goes face to face with the God of War, who's grinning about the challenge like the hot-headed god he is. You can just stare in silence as the two taunt each other, mock each other's way of handling their darlings, not really catching all the insults. But for the first time, you truly experience a god's anger, leaving you with shaking legs and tears burning in your eyes. You never wanted to see gods fight—much less over you.

♡ And that's when she swoops in. Whether Aphrodite waited for the perfect opportunity or passed by on accident, she wastes no time approaching you. Getting to your eye level, she doesn't seem to mind the ash on the floor, cooing and soothing you as she reaches out her hand invitingly, beckoning you closer. "You poor thing, look at these ruffians," she sighs apologetically, and you flinch as things get heated between the others, confirming your feelings to her. Compared to the other two, Aphrodite feels safe. She hugs you and reassuringly brushes a hand over your head, calmly telling you everything will be okay. While she allows you to hide behind her, she puts a temporary stop to the arguing gods, calling them out and telling them to look at how scared you are and how pathetic they both are to fight in front of such a fragile, sweet things like you. She also declares that she'll take you with her until they finish their silly argument. Clearly, they are both incapable of taking care of you, so that's the only logical thing.

♡ You don't feel so good leaving with Aphrodite, but she holds your hand tightly as she pulls you after her, with no room to wiggle out from. Catching a glimpse at Hephaestus's face, you can see genuine misery as you are taken away, regret flashing over his features as he seems to want to go after you. But Ares opens his mouth again before Hephaestus can step away, and his expression turns into more anger, directed at Ares, who is huffing and grinding his teeth as he watches you leave. You can still hear their arguments and yelling even after Aphrodite closes the front door behind you, picking you up as your steps become sloppy and not fast enough for her. "I can treat you so much better than these two blockheads," she assures you. "You won't have to worry about a thing as long as you're with me." It doesn't have the calming effect she might think it does, especially not when she adds on to her words, revealing what she planned to do with you all along.

♡ "I'll make sure you're well-trained and cared for. And when I'm done with you, we can talk about you devoting yourself to me—forever."

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mummybear · 7 months

Text

My Brother's Best Friend - Chapter One - Unexpected Night

Words: 4079

Warnings: Swearing, Dirty Talk, Attempted Assault (Implied Sexual), Possessive Stiles, Protective Stiles, Grinding, Talk Of Marking, Protective Scott. Think that's it.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Travis(OC)

Summary: Stiles Stilinski has always been your weakness, but since he was your brother's best friend you'd stayed away. When Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills fresh from his time in the FBI Academy something is very different about the boy you once knew.

A/N So hey guys! I know it's been a while hopefully this is the start of me getting back into my writing! We shall see. I really hope you guys enjoy this, any feedback is encouraged as always, and please let me know if you would like a tag as I update.

Chapter 1 - Unexpected Night

I can’t believe this goddamn party is still going on. I am far too drunk right now, I just want to sleep. However, as usual, my dumbass brother is too busy making out with his girlfriend. Don’t get me wrong, Allison is amazing, and I’m so happy for them. They had realised that they belonged together not long ago, after years of dating something happened. Scott didn’t explain it further than saying it was a wolf thing, that apparently I wouldn’t understand.

Mom always tells me never to go home by myself, however, right now I’m seriously considering it. I don’t even know why I came here tonight. It was stupid, they’re all his friends anyway, the great Scott McCall, I’m pretty sure people forget that I even exist. Not that I have any ill feelings towards him, he’s my brother, yes he might be a giant pain in the ass but all he’s ever done is protect me and look out for me.

If I’m honest with myself, I do know why I came here tonight, Stiles is here. He’s finally back from his FBI training, I hadn’t asked Scott too much about the situation, or how long he was back for. In fact I hadn’t even seen him yet.

Yes it’s one giant cliche. I have the world's biggest crush on my big brother’s best and oldest friend. I think I have since I was ten and Stiles was fourteen, I’ve been following them around for the better part of ten years. Before that I’d avoided them as much as possible. Then one day everything changed, as soon as I started hanging out with Scott and his friends, I finally felt like I fit in. I’m not sure what changed exactly, but whatever it was made it easier for me to become part of their group. Scott’s probably everything a big brother should be, and I know if he knew what I felt for Stiles he’d try and talk to me about it. Probably try and make me see what I’m already afraid of, that Stiles and I wouldn’t work.

Not really sure why I’m having these thoughts, probably has something to do with the fact that I’m drunk off my ass, in this random ass house. And while it may not be the best time for it, when I’ve been drinking my mind tends to wander.

After finally traipsing my way upstairs I find a bedroom, one that doesn’t really appear to belong to anyone, at least not permanently. Maybe it’s a spare room? People still have those, right? I close the door softly behind me. I’m unable to find a lock for the door, so I opt to just lay down for a minute or two, just to rest my eyes. I quickly climb up onto the bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow I let out a sigh of relief, finally giving in. I close my eyes, hoping that both the room and my head will stop spinning at some point soon. I can hear some kind of arguing going on behind the door, but I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, it feels like they’re being weighed down, I hadn’t had a drink in such a long time, but I don’t remember it ever hitting me like this before.

Suddenly there’s the sound of the door crashing open, as it bounces hard against the wall, before it slams closed again. I wince, feeling a throbbing in my head suddenly and manage to wrench my eyes open. However, they snap all the way open in fear as soon as I register the big body standing in the corner of the room. I can feel eyes on me as a tense silence settles over the room. Clearly he knows I’m awake, but he’s yet to make a move.

A sudden sickness overtakes me, when I hear Stiles on the other side of the door, quieter, but still audible, shouting my name, or his nickname for me. Mini or Mini McCall was the go to name for me among most of Scott’s friends. He sounds worried as he calls for me, and my head is so foggy that I can’t concentrate on anything, I can’t even tell if I’m imagining Stiles calling for me, why would he want to find me? He hadn’t so much as texted me since he’d been home, much less tried to see me or speak to me in person. It was strange, almost like he was avoiding me, even Stiles’s dad hadn’t seen him yet.

I clear my throat, testing out if I can speak or not, but the nerves are clear in my every word. “W-Who are you?” I manage to stutter out, my throat a little sore and my voice a bit hoarse.

“Don’t you worry about it, Doll. Just close your eyes, don’t worry about anything, I'll take real good care of you. Go back to sleep,” there’s a clear threat in that deep voice, one that makes me shudder.

I quickly sit up, doing my best to ignore the way the entire room blurs and moves once again. As I try to back myself into a corner, trying to make myself as small as possible. I know it’s stupid, but I also know I don’t stand a chance in hell of standing up right now, I’m scared and drunk off my ass, feeling like a fucking idiot for isolating myself in a freaking bedroom of all places, I should’ve just found Scott, or even Lydia.

He smirks at me as starts to walk closer and I can finally see his face. I don’t recognise him, but that isn’t really a shock, he’s definitely older than me, not sure if he’s older than my brother though. A sickness coats my throat just seeing the look on his face, the sick twisted grin. The door hasn’t stopped rattling since he stepped inside, so I keep my gaze fastened to it.

I’m hoping for a miracle, however unlikely it might be. He closes in on me until I can no longer see the door behind him, because this guy's huge hulking frame is blocking my view of anything but him. On instinct I close my eyes and hold my legs tighter, and I finally let out a scream.

“Stiles!” The scream sounds helpless and terrified as it’s ripped from somewhere deep within me, which makes complete sense, given the current circumstances.

He reaches for me, I can feel his large moist palm as he grips my knee squeezing roughly, trying to pry my legs down or apart, with enough force to leave a bruise. But before he can get too far, the door smashes open against the wall once more, revealing a much more welcome intruder. My heart thuds even harder in my chest, because the guy releases me in surprise and whirls around on my saviour.

I see him then, Stiles Stilinski in the flesh. And what flesh it is, he’s put on muscle lately. Muscle that could rival even that of my big brother, the true Alpha. But this guy is huge and I can see Stiles gulp from across the room, but his eyes harden as the flick between me and the guy who still has his hand firmly gripping my knee.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off of her!” Stiles shouts, taking another step into the room.

“Nah. Not gonna happen.” The guy states with a slimy grin, as his eyes slide over me, making me wish I was anywhere else.

“I said get the fuck away from her. What the hell is wrong with you?!” Stiles growls, stepping closer to this giant of a man. But I can only watch from where I sit, still paralysed with fear.

“Get over yourself, Stilinski, we were just gonna have a little fun. Stop being so hard up, go find your own pussy. This one's mine tonight, maybe I’ll let you have a go tomorrow. After I’ve used her up, such a pretty little body, bet she’s gonna feel real fuckin’ good.”

The words almost make me throw up, but my tongue feels swollen and I can speak. My eyes lock with Stiles for the first time in years as a tear slides down my cheek.

“I’ll make you fucking eat those words, Travis. The only thing you’re about to feel is my fist,” Stiles snarls, “take your fucking hands off of her.”

“Whose makin’ me? Your pansy ass?” Travis laughs, removing his hands and taking a few steps closer to Travis.

Suddenly those deep brown eyes draw me in like never before and my heart stills in my chest. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a few months. The FBI program has kept him so busy lately that we haven’t seen much of him. But still, I could swear there’s something a little different about him, other than his size, but there’s definitely something different about his eyes, something that I can’t quite place.

I can’t tear my gaze away, instead they fall to his lips and I shift uncomfortably where I sit, suddenly a growl tears through the room. My eyes widen and I look to the doorway behind Stiles, expecting to see my brother, but he isn’t there. I swallow thickly as my eyes automatically snap back to Stiles, and I see it, the flaring of his nostrils, the way his eyes are focused entirely on me, then I realise the sound could only have come from him. But he doesn’t share the same wolf affliction that my brother has, at least, not that I know of. How much has changed since I last saw him!

Stiles steps closer, body tense and unflinching. All traces of fear have disappeared from his face. Now he just looks furious, more so than anyone I’ve ever seen before.

“Mate.” Stiles snarls, shoving the guy as soon as he’s close enough, and to my utter shock and surprise the guy slams back into the wall with a crash, leaving behind an imprint of his giant body as he slides down the wall with a groan. Everything happens so fast, I don’t have time to analyse what the hell Stiles meant when he’d growled that one word. But I can’t help but shudder with excitement at the way my body responded.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps hammering up the stairs, and before I know it Scott has Stiles pinned against him, as Liam all but wrestles the other guy from the room.

“Stiles, you need to calm down, breathe buddy. ” Scott instructs calmly, his deep red Alpha eyes flaring to life, like they would when he’s trying to calm the other members of his pack. Something flits across my brother’s face as he relaxes his grip a little. Whatever it is, seems to register with Stiles that other than my brother we’re alone in the room and safe once again.

His body goes completely lax and Scott releases the tight band he’d been holding around his best friend. I can’t help but stare as Stiles staggers towards me. Safe to say I’ve sobered up in the last five minutes.

“Can one of you tell me what the hell just happened here?” Scott asks carefully, but I can’t take my eyes off of Stiles.

“Just give us a minute, Scott. I, um, I think I should talk to Stiles.”

I hear my brother huff out a breath before he leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.

“I’ll be back in ten if you’re not downstairs before then, we’re going home.” He calls through the door. Then the door opens again and Scott smiles at us both, “oh and thanks for having my sister's back, buddy.”

Stiles turns towards the doorway with a slight smile as his eyes lock on his Alpha, “Always, Scotty, you know that. We won’t be long.”

I finally let myself relax a little when the door closes. Stiles crawls on the bed and sits in front of me. He rests his hand over the reddened skin on my knee, and lets out another quieter growl. “I’m gonna fucking kill him. He won’t ever touch anyone ever again.”

“Hey, I’m okay,” I whisper, resting my hand on top of his, “you saved me.”

He runs a shaking hand through his thick hair and his eyes lock with mine once more.

“I should’ve been here. I’m supposed to protect you, I’m so fucking sorry, Mini. If that sick fuck had touched you…” He sounds so defeated and my heart squeezes at his words.

“You got here in time, you’ve always had my back. This time wasn’t any different, except maybe that,” you giggle slightly, as you nod toward the dent in the wall.

He shifts closer to me and drops his forehead against mine, letting out a contented sigh. I let my eyes slip closed for a second. For once I give myself the freedom to enjoy the closeness, I open my eyes again and those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes are focused on mine. I lick my lips and feel the shuddered breath that escapes his lips.

Ever so gently he reaches out and his thumb brushes my bottom lip.

“You’re so fucking beatiful. Please tell me you feel this, Mini, because you smell so damn good, I don’t know If I’m strong enough to stay away.”

I swallow thickly as his nose nudges mine gently, my entire body practically vibrating with need.

“Y-Yeah, I feel it,” I reply quietly, scared that if I talk too loud this dream will end, I don’t dare to tell him just how long I’ve felt these things though.

“Then we should probably talk. Because I need to tell you some things before this goes any further,” he replies, voice hoarse and strained, like it’s painful for him to speak these words. But then he goes to pull away and all my instincts go into overdrive, and I finally give in to what I want, I clamp onto him and don’t let go.

Nor do I fight the need to keep him close to me. Right where he belongs. My fingers push into his thick hair and I gently tug him back towards me, just those last few millimetres. Until his lips brush mine ever so briefly. He doesn’t even try to fight me, and I can feel the shudder that runs through his entire body when I push him back and straddle his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. I think there’s some kind of trick of the lights because I could swear there’s this purple glow in his eyes for a few seconds before they settle back on brown. But I push the thought away for now, and press myself a little closer. So that every part of our bodies is connected.

“Tell me later, please Stiles, I need this.” I hope I don’t sound as desperate as I feel, Stiles doesn’t move, but I hear how hard he swallows, almost like a gulp as he lets his eyes slip closed. Following his lead I let my own eyes close when his hand cups my cheek, the other hand slips somewhere much less innocent. When he cups my ass his long fingers curl and he squeezes slightly, letting out a groan of pleasure when I grind down against the obvious hardness pressing against me.

Suddenly his lips are on mine, insistent and urgent, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Our lips are in perfect sync, and a shudder rolls through me when his tongue nudges my lips, seeking permission that I happily and easily grant. I’m rocking my hips in a steady rhythm now, and the kiss grows deeper, his fingers dig harder into my skin as he urges me to keep moving.

Holding me as close as he physically can against his body, Stiles sits up, turning us so that my back hits the mattress and he’s hovering above me. He breaks our kiss and I gasp for breath as he drags his lips across my cheek and down into the crease of my neck. He groans as he inhales deeply, “smell so good. My mate. Just wanna mark you up, make you mine the right way.” His voice vibrates against my skin and I shiver as he laps at the soft skin of my neck.

Confusion sweeps through my lust-addled brain at his wording.

“What do you mean?” I ask breathlessly, more confused about his words than I’d care to admit.

Pulling back to meet my eyes he smiles, and ducks his head looking a little more like the Stiles I remember. I cup his cheek gently, urging him to look at me again.

“This is why I said we should talk. I can’t do what I need to. Not without you knowing what you’re letting yourself in for. I’m not the same man I was the last time I saw you, something happened, I just…I don’t know how to begin to explain this.”

It hurts me that he sounds so defeated already, almost like he’s worried about what he has to tell me.

“Don’t you know by now, nothing you tell me will change how I see you,” I tell him honestly, pulling him closer so his body is pressed against mine, and he finally lets some of his weight rest on me.

“I wanna believe you, but I’m scared. This is huge, and I can’t let anyone down, but especially you, I can’t lose you. Especially not now I know what you are to me, not now I’m so close.”

Before I can ask what he means there’s a hesitant knock on the door, before it slowly creaks open. Liam stands there, watching us sheepishly for a few seconds before Stiles growls at him, I can’t help but frown as I look up at my protector. But then I see it again, the purple in his eyes.

The gasp falls from my lips unintentionally and as soon as it does Stiles snaps his gaze towards me. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, his fingers tightening their hold on me and I can only stare up at him.

“Liam, get the fuck out. Now!” Stiles snarls.

“But, Scott said…”

Stiles is off the bed before I can react, when I do finally open my eyes I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Stiles has Liam pinned to the wall by his throat. And Liam is trying to get free, but he’s stuck fast. I can’t help but wonder, how the hell is that possible!

Mouth agape I watch as my brother’s Beta looks over at me, “little help here, mini. Calm your man down, please.”

My man? I inwardly ask myself, we’ve fooled around for all of 5 minutes and suddenly he’s mine. While I can’t fight the pleasure at hearing those words, I also can’t help but fight the confusion, maybe he wants me to calm Stiles down so he doesn’t have to hurt him.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask nervously, looking between the two of them.

Stiles gives a final squeeze before dropping Liam and racing to me, covering me with his body.

“Don’t you dare fucking look at her!” Stiles snarls, his arms shaking as he holds himself above me. “Tell Scott we’re coming and leave now!” Stiles warns in a low commanding voice that sends shivers racing across my body as he carefully tugs my skirt back into place.

I can’t deny the pulse between my thighs, even as I clamp them shut, and the whimper that falls from my lips causes Stiles to stiffen. Before he’s off the bed, practically throwing Liam further down the hallway when he doesn’t move by himself, slamming the door behind him. Before he turns back to me.

“God, please tell me you know what you just said,” Stiles rasps as he pulls me up off the bed and hauls me against his hard body.

“I don’t… what do you mean?” I ask, frowning in confusion, as I try to search his eyes for an answer. I hadn’t said anything… had I?

Stiles whimpers like those words cause him some kind of pain. He shakes his head, running his fingers through the thick mass of hair before tugging at it harshly. I want to comfort him but I don’t know how. Hell I don’t have a clue what the fuck is happening right now.

“We can’t do this. Not right now.” His words sound harsh and bitter, no matter how softly he speaks them.

I stumble away from him, confusion and hurt lancing through me like an actual weapon. I know there’s a reason for this, but it doesn’t hurt any less, doesn’t feel any less like rejection either. Tears fill my eyes, it’s irrational and I don’t feel even remotely in control of my emotions right now, but I can’t stop it, maybe i’m still drunk. Though it doesn’t feel like that’s it. Stiles steps towards me again and I step back, “no, no. Please, Sadie, I want to. But not until you know everything! I swear to you, whatever you’re thinking, we can talk about it. Please, Mini, just trust me.”

Hearing my real name on his lips is so strange, but I can’t deny that I really like hearing him say it.

I feel myself giving in, because as much as it hurts to have him turn me down, he's still one of the best people in my life. And despite myself, I’ve been in love with this pain in the ass longer than I can even remember, he’s yet to let me down in a real way. Letting out a sigh, I know it’s best to give him the chance to explain.

“Fine. Then let’s talk.”

He swallows thickly, as I watch him carefully. Pretty sure I’m not going to like the next thing that comes out of his mouth. He looks nervous and twitchy.

He winces before he even speaks, “I’m sorry. But not here, let’s go home, there’s too many ears here. I swear I’ll tell you everything as soon as we’re safe,” he all but begs, holding out his hand for me.

Pushing away any and all doubts, I take his hand. Watching as he visibly relaxes and pulls me closer to him.

“Thank you, I promise, I’ll make this up to you,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to my inner wrist. Yet another shiver ripples through my body at the contact that I can’t control.

He keeps me tucked into his side as we leave the room, careful to touch as few people as possible while we walk. When we finally make it outside, Scott’s waiting with the rest of the pack. Stiles looks reluctant to get in the car, judging by the way Liam forces his body closer to the opposite door Stiles’ look had been less than friendly.

He slips inside and I can’t help but squeak in surprise as he hauls me inside with him, not into my own seat but so that my back is tightly pressed against his front, and his arms band protectively around my waist.

“Dude. Come on! Not in my car, she’s still my little sister. Damn,” Scott groans, locking eyes with Stiles in the rear view mirror.

Stiles seems to consider his words before he reluctantly relents, moving to the middle seat before he gently eases me into the seat as far away from Liam as humanly possible. Keeping a hand firmly planted on my thigh, huffing like a petulant child, I can’t help but giggle. It’s almost like he can’t stop himself from touching me. His long fingers tightly curl around my leg, almost like he’s afraid someone will take me from him if he lets go. Taking a deep breath I tentatively slip my fingers between the gaps in his, gently squeezing them, hoping to offer even a little comfort, those big brown eyes jump to mine and he visibly relaxes into the seat.

I look up and catch my brother’s eyes. I can’t work out the look on his face, for the first time since we were kids, I can’t tell what he’s thinking and for some reason that only makes me even more anxious.

Tags: @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @lilulo-12fanfiction @charmed-asylum @defenderrosetyler @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @akshi8278 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp @screamxqueenx94 @brien-odylan @riseandshinelittleblossom @ceceliaking-18 @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @missindecision @chewie-redbird

#stiles teenwolf #stiles stilinski #stiles fic #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teenwolf #teen wolf #stiles and scott #scott maccall #lydia martin #allison argent #liam dunbar #Scott's sister #stiles stilinski x reader #Stiles stilinski x Scott's sister

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 9 months

Text

PLUS ONE - m.barzal

part one: sam & julia

warnings: alcohol, vomiting, hangovers, swearing, shit ex, wedding, breaking and entering, little bit of angst

plus one masterlist

“Remember that time we had a sleepover in your basement and—”

You rolled your eyes, happily accepting the shot put under your nose as you knocked it back.

God, you hated wedding speeches. Very rarely were they entertaining, and more often than not, you found yourself cringing at the thinly veiled jealousy exuded by the poor people subjected to give the speeches when they said one final goodbye to the friend they’d known since high school before they were inevitably swept up by the trials and tribulations of married life.

That downright made you feel ill; sure, there were different types of wedding speeches, but, and hypocritically, the ones you hated the most were the awkward ones, where someone hadn’t come prepared at all, and stuttered and paused as they tried to think of something to say to satisfy the uncomfortable blanket of silence that inevitably would have draped itself across the entire room. Those kinds of speeches were drab, and they were somehow made even worse by the random questions thrown out there. Like this guy, for example.

To say you’d known the bride since college you could safely say you’d never seen this person in your life, and probably for good reason, because his lack of organisational skills were astounding to the point that the only way you could distract yourself from it was to blindly accept the shots from your ever-so-gracious, and probably just as tipsy, plus one.

But this guy delivering the speech? His hands were shaking, and you could see sweat dripping down his temples and shining on his forehead, and whilst you did feel a tad of sympathy for him (because speeches are tough anyway), you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed in the way he kept flicking between two sheets of folded paper – hands shaking and looking nothing short of caught.

He’d been doing the question thing for longer than it really needed to be done for.

Sometimes people underestimated the power and effectiveness of the short-but-sweet speeches – ones that probably meant a lot more to the married couple than the disjointed rawlings that almost made it seem as though the person delivering said speech was trying to prove a point. What the point was, you had no idea, but there was definitely something to be said about the unreasonably long sequence of ‘do you remember…’, ‘one time we…’.

“I’m so fucking bored.” You could tell it was meant to be a whisper, one strictly reserved for your ears only, and you would have put a hand over your mouth to smother the laugh you felt bubbling up – if it weren’t for the fact that your entire table heard exactly what he’d just said.

Almost as soon as those words had left his mouth, you felt the weight of seven disapproving stares burn holes through the side of your face, and if it were possible, through the man himself. You could almost feel the heat radiating off his skin as though he’d been pierced by a hundred burning lasers.

Mat seemed oblivious – either that or he was promptly and purposefully ignoring the sudden attention, attention which he had vowed to stray from. In his words, ‘I want a hockey-free night, and ‘Tony’ sounds pretty gangster’.

So, even though his place card said ‘Mat’, in his slightly tipsy state before the speeches began, he’d confided that he was to be called ‘Tony’ for the night. You’d simply patted him on the arm and obliged anyway, although you knew the only way to prevent yourself from actually calling him Mat was to just forgo calling him a name entirely.

So when you felt the table’s attention return back to the poor best man now wrapping up his speech, you hid a smile behind your hand. He was right, it was boring. And you were also dreading what would happen after the speeches, because you’d accidentally made direct eye contact with an ex of yours before you’d sat down, and the look in his eye had you predicting he’d want to talk to you before the night ended.

There was a smattering of applause, and before you knew it, chairs were scraping along the floor and people were beginning to stand for the first dance. You attempted to stand – it was courteous considering you used to be somewhat friends with the bride – and it was polite, and honestly, you did want to see it. It was tradition, and you knew that it was really the first chance the couple had at actually realising they were married.

You loved watching their faces, even if they were a hint bashful at being under everyone’s watchful eye.

However, you couldn’t do that this time. People were lined up along gaps between the tables, and unfortunately that meant you couldn’t even push your chair out and stand up to get a glimpse over everyone’s heads, so you stayed with Mat, who’d gone back to sipping his Prosecco.

“Are you gonna be okay if I go and talk to some people for a bit?” You whispered, ears catching the soft melody of the music over the chatter of the crowd.

Mat blinked, turning to face you, a question written in his features, “I’ll be fine. Who’re you gonna talk to?”

His eyes were glazed, and his cheeks were flushed. He’d shrugged off his blazer a while ago, and you knew him well enough to know he was well on his way to being a little more than tipsy tonight. Unfortunately for you, that probably meant that he’d be an absolute nightmare to get to sleep.

“I’m gonna have to talk to Logan.” You admitted quietly, watching Mat carefully.

He rolled his eyes, handing you another shot – not successfully hiding his distaste for the situation. His gaze was stern and his mouth was pulled into a frown, “As in Logan that–”

“Yes.” Your tone was harsh, and Mat leant back in his chair, his jaw ticking as he turned back to the crowd. You handed him the shot he’d given you, and he downed it, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

You leant back in your chair, mind racing. Mat had always had a certain displeasure for Logan – more specifically than any other ex he’d known – and he wasn’t exactly your favourite ex by any means, but there was something about Logan that got Mat ticking and his temper flaring. As far as you were aware, the two had never met; you’d been dating Logan around the same time you’d met Mat, but before you’d had the chance to introduce them both, Logan ended things.

Never said why, never gave a reason, and if you were being honest, you were kind of curious as to how this little conversation with him was going to go.

But to satisfy some of Mat’s not-so-subtle uncomfortability, you’d made the split-decision to negotiate with him.

“If I make eye contact with you and blink twice, I’d like it if you could get me out of there.” Then, just as an afterthought, “Or if you’d prefer it, you can sit here and stew in your irrational hatred for the guy.”

“It’s rational–”

“So tell me.”

“Not yet, okay?” He paused, sighing, “But I’ll keep an eye on you.”

You lent an elbow on the table, resting your head against your fist as you looked at him. He was irritated, and it was almost immediately after he’d finished speaking that Logan stopped behind him and a shadow fell across his spot on the table that his concern turned almost instantaneously into a scowl. You sighed, frustrated with both Logan’s appearance and Mat’s refusal to give you any semblance of the truth, so you neglected to pat your friend on the shoulder when you walked back.

It was petty, but it wasn’t exactly your job to console him at that moment – least of all when it would be you talking to him.

Logan surprisingly led you to the dancefloor – though with the way his eyes kept flicking over your shoulder, you had an inkling that it was the lingering threat of Mat burning holes through him that prompted Logan to choose a place more in the public eye.

You offered him a tight smile when you both awkwardly held each other, careful not to get too close. His hands were warm on your back, and you noticed that he made sure to touch you where your dress covered your skin.

The tension between you both was odd, and it only seemed to break when an elderly couple – both wrapped up in their own foxtrot of sorts – accidentally knocked into you both. It had you both smiling at the couple, mutterings of ‘no problem’, and then the tension seemed to alleviate somewhat.

“How have you been?” You asked, unable to avoid catching a glimpse of Mat snatching a glass of Prosecco off a tray and down the entire thing in one go. Your expression dimmed slightly, and you had to cut your attention back to Logan, who was looking off to the side, how mouth slightly agape – almost sheepish.

“I’ve been good, yeah. I’m actually getting married next year, which is exciting.” His cheeks flushed, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile at his clear adoration.

He might have been a pretty slack boyfriend, but you were still incredibly happy for him.

“Congratulations, who’s the lucky person?” Your grin widened as he looked to his feet bashfully, trying to mask the smile on his face.

Logan was never someone who openly admitted to wanting to settle down. Even when he was with you he’d flirt with the occasional girl; it was part of his personality, one that never dwindled even throughout the whole of college. After the breakup, he’d approach you in parties if you happened to see each other, and he’d still attempt to flirt with you – there was no end goal in sight with him – you always saw it more as a joke than anything. Truthfully, you assumed he was just a charming personality, although there were glimpses of something that always rested behind that flawless smile and those dazzling blue eyes.

You could imagine that falling in love with someone took him by surprise.

“Her name’s Rory, we were on and off in my last year of college, got back together two years ago and I proposed in December.” He nodded wistfully, as if recounting the moment, “What about you?” He nodded in Mat’s direction.

When you followed his eyes, you saw Mat had moved from his previous seat. He now held a new glass of Prosecco in his hand, and was sitting next to a little boy on the floor, just under the draping of the tablecloth. He was still watching you, and when he caught both your and Logan’s gaze, you shook your head in his direction, answering his implied question.

You saw his hazel gaze slide over to Logan momentarily, before he turned back to the kid, smiling at whatever they were handing him.

He was pretty – that was a fact you weren’t aware of, but Logan’s suggestion was…not correct.

“Oh, he’s just a friend. I met him around the time we broke up, actually.” You answered awkwardly.

But Logan wasn’t looking at you, in fact, his brows were furrowed and his eyes were fixed intently on Mat, a flicker of recognition flashing through his features.

“Is that Mat Barzal?” He asked, his eyes flicking down to you momentarily.

You stuttered, feigning confusion, “Who?”

“Mat Barzal? The hockey player for the Islanders?” Logan arched a brow, disbelieving of your naivety.

You nodded slowly, trying to figure out how you could spin the conversation without making you look ridiculous, “Oh, him…He actually gets that a lot.” You felt your cheeks flush, the slight haze of the alcohol beginning to kick in; you were surprised it took so long to take effect, and because of your sudden panic and hesitation, not wanting to out Mat when he’d previously stated he wanted to be called Tony for the night, you found yourself manoeuvring Logan, making sure his back was to Mat as you willed him to make eye contact with you.

He was still chatting to the little boy, gladly accepting a flower that must have been from a table somewhere, and you could tell from the slump in his shoulders and the way he’d had to half lean against the table leg that he was a little drunker than you’d initially guessed. So much so that, even through Logan talking, you watched as Mat brushed the tablecloth out of his face, before faltering, his hand going to stroke the material with incredible curiosity.

The delighted face he made as he searched for you in the crowd of dancers almost had you laughing out loud. If it weren’t for the slight fear you had with Logan’s insistent questioning.

“I never knew you were friends with Mat Barzal–” Logan carried on, oblivious to your rising sense of anxiety, one that only seemed to decline when Mat finally caught your eyes, and you blinked twice – purposefully.

It took a moment for him to realise what was happening, before the smile on his face faded a little and his hand untangled itself from the tablecloth as he wobbled to his feet, incredibly mindful of the little boy still playing with the flowers.

“Well…” you stalled, swallowing nervously and watching with careful eyes as Mat somehow managed to wind himself through the crowd to get to you, flashing people apologetic smiles if he bumped into them, “Actually…”

You saw him reach you a couple of feet away, and you didn’t let yourself relax until he was standing next to you, a comfortable – noticeably fake – smile plastered on his face. It was polite nonetheless, but he wasn’t looking at you.

“Hey, man,” Mat started talking, and you slowly pulled away from Logan, who’d frozen, his jaw dropped in sheer awe, “Is it okay if I just take Y/N off your hands for a bit? I need her to look at these tablecloths with me.”

You had to look away. Mat may have looked physically sober, but his speech was slurred and his cheeks were rosy and he couldn’t keep his eyes still when he looked at Logan.

You snuck a peek at Logan, who’d seemingly regained a little consciousness and his cheeks were flushing with embarrassment.

You always admired Mat’s patience and tolerance for his fans, and even then it didn’t seem to dwindle when he was faced with the man he clearly had some sort of hatred for, and was also less in control of his own actions considering the fact he was drunk off his face. That tight smile was still plastered on his face, and he swayed a little on the spot, forcing you to reach a hand out to stabilise his arm.

He didn’t even flinch.

Even so, despite the fact that it took a while for Logan to compose himself, his eyes very obviously going from your hand on Mat’s arm, then all the way down his figure, Mat remained completely calm and patient. In your grip, however, you could feel some awkward tension in his arms; he remained rigid, as if expecting some sort of backlash to the interruption, though that may have just been his awareness of his lack of stability, and in combating that appearance, he’d purposefully tensed to remain on his own two feet.

Logan stuttered, a hand going to rest on his own chest as he glanced back at you, almost remembering you were standing there and Mat was, in fact, asking for you in that moment, “I mean, sure – I’m Logan, by the way.” He held a hand out for Mat to shake.

Tony or Mat? The ultimate question.

After a few seconds, you furrowed your brows, looking at Mat only to see his eyes were fixed on Logan’s wavering hand, a conflict evident in his eyes. You squeezed his arm, and he lifted his hand to shake Logan’s.

It was slow, and every movement was deliberate, and you couldn’t tell if you were expecting to find something or overthinking the entire thing, but you swore Logan’s hand turned white for a split second.

“I’m Tony,” Mat began, removing his arm from your grip to take your hand instead. He was still looking at Logan, and you could sense the challenge between the two men as Logan blinked, obviously confused. He looked back to you for a split second, and you shrugged, offering him no justification. It was clear to you and it was obviously clear to Mat that Logan knew who he was, and in that brief moment that Mat let Tony land in the silence between them, you could tell he was waiting for Logan to challenge him, “nice to meet you.”

Logan nodded, swallowing harshly, and you couldn’t help but feel a hint of sorrow for him – but at the end of the day, it was inevitable that Mat took precedence in your mind.

“You too.” Logan mumbled, before turning to you, a grimace of a smile etched on his face, “Well, it was nice to catch up; I’m glad you’re well and happy, but I can see you’ve got tablecloths to inspect with Tony.” He nodded, carefully avoiding Mat’s eyeline as his focus was kept entirely on you.

You nodded, plastering a smile on your face for nostalgia’s sake, even if you were slightly uncomfortable with how the interaction had turned out, “You too, I hope you have a lovely wedding, and send Rory my congratulations.”

“I will, thank you.” At this, Logan’s grimace seemed to soften slightly.

“See you around.”

“You too.”

And then Mat was dragging you back through the crowd, this time not as careful to prevent himself bumping into anyone as he was before, and you had to pull his hand back a little to get him to slow down.

When you finally reached his prior spot, he dropped your hand and sat on the floor, this time almost entirely hidden underneath the table.The kid from before had disappeared, and there were significantly less people around – the crowd had dispersed and people were beginning to say their goodbyes.

It was pretty late.

You didn’t follow him, instead opting to stand with your arms crossed, attempting to at least be a little annoyed with his behaviour for Logan’s sake, but with the way he was acting – high out of his mind – you couldn’t help but break out a small smile. He’d gone back to playing with the tablecloth, and he was a few inches from falling onto the floor, his eyes so glazed over with no trace of his previous tension evident in his frame. It almost seemed like he’d forgotten the entire interaction altogether.

Neither of you said anything for a while, and it wasn’t until Mat straightened up under the table and gently patted your leg with a frown that almost mimicked a child’s that you realised he’d been waiting for you to sit down with him.

You sighed, hiding your smile at his antics, and joined him under the table.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, lazily turning his head to look at you as he rested his head on his elbow. His eyes were comically sad, and it sent a pang of guilt resonating through you.

He’d been looking sad quite a bit lately – it was part of the reason you’d invited him to this wedding, to get his mind off the breakup, but a small part of you regretted asking him. Surely inviting him to a wedding after a breakup would only break his heart even more? Remind him of what he could have had?

You shook your head, “I could never be mad at you.”

He nodded, seemingly happy with the response, but there wasn’t a smile on his face to support that.

“I overheard him at a restaurant once,” he started, huffing a breath after pulling his eyes away from yours. You furrowed your brows, not entirely sure what he was talking about, but not wanting to interrupt his flow, “I didn’t know it was him until I saw you clearing out his stuff from your dorm–”

Oh.

He was talking about Logan. Even the tone of his voice had you on edge – he was angry, and with that came a sense of foreboding.

“–I was with some friends, and they were sitting behind us, and…you should have heard some of the things they were saying, even Logan.” He sighed, not daring to look at you, “They were talking about women like they were…objects, like their sole purpose was to be on this earth for their pleasure–” He stopped talking, and you saw his face crumple, visibly uncomfortable as he recalled whatever was plaguing his mind, “It was so vulgar. It was horrible, and I guess one of them must have said something about someone we knew, because Jamie snapped and yelled at them and the next thing I knew, Jamie was socking him in the face and all five of us were brawling with the others. I remember seeing Logan’s photo in your room afterwards and I was glad you guys broke up.” He laughed bitterly, “I know if you guys hadn't, I would have been scared for you – and guy is getting married?” He turned to you, complete disbelief dripping from his face.

You nodded.

“Fucking hell.”

There wasn’t really much to say. Your mind was undoubtedly reeling with the new onslaught of rather horrible information, and a part of you did wonder if he was only telling you this because he was drunk and he was still thinking about Logan after the short conversation. But when you thought about it, Logan having those views about women wasn’t all surprising. There were comments he’d made in your relationship that had you pausing and pulling faces at the time, but you brushed them off, half hoping he was joking in your youthful naivety.

It put a lot of things into perspective for you.

“Thank you for defending us.” You whispered, tilting your head towards him.

“Shouldn’t have had to yefend dou.” He slurred, blinking upon realising what he’d just said.

You laughed softly, despite the subject, “I know. But there’s always going to be people like that, and not many would have stood up against what they were saying in the first place, so thank you.”

“Shouldn’t have given him the time of day.” He shook his head, beginning to sulk, and though you knew he’d probably chastise himself over what he did and didn’t do, you let him for a while, simply rubbing a hand against his back.

“Considering what you knew, I thought you handled it very well.”

“I had to,” he threw a hand up in the air, shifting himself so his head was leaning against your shoulder, “If I’d have blown up, something would have happened with my career. I wanted to, but…”

“It’s okay.” You rested your head on top of his.

You sat like that for a while, you people watching from your hiding space.

Then Mat’s breathing changed and you felt him relax against you, and you knew it was time to get back to the hotel. You hesitated waking him, but knew he’d probably need to throw up at some point, and it would be more comfortable if he was sleeping in his bed.

You dragged a hand through his hair, gently scratching to wake him up. The trick for waking a drunk, sleepy Mat Barzal was slowly. If he woke up in a fright, he’d spend a while trying to fight his way out of a dizzy spell, and it had taken a few goes to really find the right way to wake him up; stroking his hair seemed to be the most effective, with the least amount of side-effects.

You felt him begin to stir, a sleepy sigh escaping his lips.

“Careful.” You whispered, watching as his eyelashes fluttered and he tensed, slowly lifting his head from your shoulder, groaning as he blinked rapidly.

“How long was I out for?” He asked, and you saw his eyes wobble before he shut them entirely. He was still drunk, but the motion of moving into a vertical position after being somewhat horizontal sent his head spinning.

“Only about ten minutes or so.” You answered, moving to shuffle out from under the table, before turning around and holding a hand out for him to grab on to, “Come on, you need to sleep.”

He opened his eyes, somewhat blindly grasping for your hand and using it as leverage to pull himself out from under the table. There weren’t many people around anymore, so you had no trouble leaving the tent, one of Mat’s arms draped across your shoulders. You had to stop every so often, Mat breathing heavily through his nose to keep a bout of vomit down, but you managed to get him up the stairs and to his hotel room.

“You gonna be okay?” You asked, leading him to his bed. Your room was just next door, and you knew if he knocked you’d gladly run in and help if he needed it, but all his stuff was here, and you were both tired from the late night and the events that had come with it. A full day of socialising and answering personal questions asked by strangers was exhausting.

“Should be.” He answered, face down on top of the duvet.

You didn’t answer him, but moved to the mini fridge in the corner of the room to take out a bottle of water and some painkillers for the morning, placing them on his bedside table.

“Right, well, I’m next door. Knock if you need anything.” You reminded him, patting him gently on the back.

It felt almost inhumane leaving him to suffer by himself, but you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to ask if he needed help. That gave you some peace of mind at least, and you weren’t about to impose yourself in his room when he might not even need much assistance.

You went back to your room, and it was only after you’d finished in the bathroom and managed to get somewhat comfy in your own bed that you heard a sound that sent your heart into a frenzy of panic.

There was a click that sounded remarkably like the lock on your door, and before you could turn the light on and overthink it, your door was opening and Mat was walking through carrying a bottle of water and looking worse for wear.

“Jesus Christ.” You whispered harshly, refraining from throwing a pillow at him, “You scared me! How did you even get in here?”

He blinked, coming over to sit on your side of the bed, looking a little unwell if you said so yourself. There was a tinge of green to the pallor of his skin, and a thin film of sweat across his forehead, “I stole one of your keys earlier.” He said, breathlessly.

You swallowed, a sense of dread prickling your stomach at his symptoms. You got out from under your covers, placing a hand to his forehead. You weren’t cold by any means, but when you placed your hand against his forehead, he leant into it, relishing in the relief you provided. His eyes shut and he sighed.

“Are you okay?” You asked, concerned.

He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly clamped it shut when his body jolted. You barely had three seconds to spin a single thought together, and the closest thing was the ice bucket, so you lunged for it, just shoving it in front of his face quick enough for him to empty the contents of his stomach into it.

You winced, trying not to think too much about what was happening, and he hunched forwards, trying to jam his face into the bucket, “Hey, you don’t want to get covered in it, get your face out.” You scolded gently, and he lifted his head slightly, his hand going to clutch your forearm for support.

It was bound to happen, you’d decided. You lost track of how much he’d drunk, and you couldn't say you’d been with him the majority of the night, so you didn’t have any realistic guesses as to how much alcohol he’d consumed, but puking wasn’t exactly an unpredictable end to the night.

His breathing was ragged, and every so often you’d catch a groan of pain as his stomach twisted.

“You’re okay.” You whispered into his hair, rubbing a hand down his back. “Just let it all out.”

A couple of minutes later, the vomiting had stopped somewhat.

Mat lifted his head up, trying not to gip when he caught a glance of the contents of the bucket, and unscrewed the cap on the bottle of water he’d brought with him.

“Better?” You asked.

He nodded, greedily gulping it down.

“Can I clean and empty it now or do you feel like you’re gonna need it again?”

He shook his head.

You pushed yourself from the bed, turned the light on in the bathroom and poured the contents into the toilet, before flushing it and placing the bucket in the bath – immediately turning your attention away from it and blasting the shower on.

When you made it back to your bed, Mat had curled up under the covers on your warm spot, his back turned to the middle of the bed. He was still awake, and when you placed the bucket on the bedside table next to his side, he attempted a smile.

“Feeling better?” You asked, trying not to smirk when he huffed and pulled the duvet closer up the bed.

“Just say it. I know you want to.”

You grinned, climbing into the other side of the bed, “Well if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions.”

You snuggled down, turning off the light by the bed, slightly smug but also kind of feeling a little bit bad for how miserable he must be feeling.

Just as you were about to drift off, a voice cut through the darkness, jolting you awake.

“Can we cuddle?”

You screwed up your face, half amused yet slightly taken aback by the question. Sure, you’d cuddled Mat occasionally before, mainly when he’d had a bad game or was feeling a bit sorry for himself, but it felt weird doing it in a bed with the lights off.

It felt like the territory that friends should not venture into.

“No.” You whispered.

Clearly that wasn’t the answer Mat was hoping for, because you felt the sheets move around you and a waft of air hit your face. When you opened your eyes you were almost nose to nose with the Canadian.

His hair was a mess, you could see that in the dark, and his eyes were shining.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Friends cuddle all the time. We’ve done it before.”

“Yeah, in daylight and not in a bed. It’s weird.”

“What’s weird about it?”

“Everything. Also, you’re still drunk and you literally just threw up. You have vomit breath.”

“I’ll clean my teeth.”

“Please go to sleep.”

“But I want to cuddle.”

“Go clean your teeth.”

He get out of bed, whisper-cackling at managing to wear you down so quickly, and you attempted to go back to sleep, knowing if he saw you were asleep he wouldn’t even go anywhere near you, but the two minutes seemed to go past incredibly quickly and before you knew it, he was climbing back into bed, looking at you expectantly.

He was facing you, a fact that had your brain stalling a little.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“What are you doing?” He shot back, pulling a face.

“I’m wondering why you’re looking at me like that.”

“Because you’re not turning around?”

You let out a breath, almost scoffing at his insinuation, “I am not turning around.”

“Is it because you don’t want to deal with morning wood?”

“What the fuck, no.”

“Or maybe you’re scared there will be no morning wood? Because maybe if I don’t get morning wood then you’d think you weren’t attractive – which you are – but if I get morning wood, then you’d think I was attracted to you–”

“Stop saying morning wood. And that’s not the reason, okay? I couldn’t care less if you got a boner – and by the way, I am amazed at the way your mind works, really. But I am not letting you spoon me.” You narrowed your eyes.

“Why?” You could almost hear his offended tone slip through.

“You know what? Forget the whole cuddling thing, I’ve changed my mind.”

Mat threw his face into the pillow, groaning dramatically.

“You don’t like cuddling?” He asked, almost appalled at the idea.

“Not with you.”

He gasped, before trying to shuffle closer to you, seeking some heat since he’d left the bed and been exposed to cold air.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cross the boundary.” You pushed yourself up, drawing a line from where the two pillows met in the middle of the bed, preventing him from moving forward any further.

“Why, what would happen if I did?”

“You’d be entering a different season and if you stay too long your wings would break. You’d have a broken wing, Mathew. Nobody wants that.”

You practically heard him roll his eyes at your exaggerating, “Is that a Tinkerbell reference?” You nodded, “How old are you? And it’s just cuddling. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, Jeez, I don’t know, maybe you could puke in my face and I could choke on your vomit?”

There was a beat of silence, and you could feel the weight of a sarcastic stare poking holes in your face, “Be fucking for real right now–”

A short burst of laughter escaped you, and you could hear Mat chuckling a little at your reaction. The silence was short lived – as it always seemed to be when you were talking to Mat at night.

“What about tickle-scratching?” He whispered, just as you turned your back on him.

You pulled a face, “What the fuck is that?” You turned your head slightly over your shoulder just in time to see a hand reach out towards you.

“It’s where we, like, scratch each other’s backs in a gentle way,” he demonstrated, his hand indeed going to scratch your shoulder very gently, as though he was afraid you’d shoot the idea down. You definitely were, but your curiosity as to where he was going with this was winning you over, “Not in a weird way, just like…” He trailed off, his hand still gently scratching your skin.

It was a little weird, but you couldn’t deny that the action sent shivers down your spine. It was a nice feeling, a little strange – it made you feel like a cat or something, but it felt weirdly relieving.

“What?” You exclaimed, beginning to tease him a little through his still-drunken haze.

Where the fuck had he gotten that from?

He groaned once more, this time ripping his hand off you and rolling over onto his side of the bed, his back turned to you with a flourish. You did briefly wonder how he hadn’t made himself dizzy with all that throwing around and sharp turns of direction, but you spent most of your energy trying to smother your giggles behind your hand.

You tried not to move the mattress, but when you felt him turn around, undoubtedly confused as to the shaking, you cleared your throat, and spun back around. You scooted over the line of demarcation, risking a broken wing, and wrapped an arm around his waist, making yourself comfortable as he grasped onto your hand and you settled your forehead against his back.

To say he’d been seeking some bodyheat barely minutes ago, Mat was boiling. In fact, you didn’t know how the thought of seeking human contact had even occurred, because that level of warmth would surely just make him uncomfortable? It was like snuggling a heater.

“Leg.” He whispered, and you rolled your eyes, complying anyway as you slotted your leg between his, further adding intricacy to your entanglement.

“Do you just want me to completely lay on you or are you good now?” You asked, barely bothering to hide your deadpan tone.

“Actually–”

“Shut up.”

It had barely been five minutes and you could feel yourself hanging precariously on the brink of sleep — brain switching off and yourself being consumed by the inevitability of morning — when Mat huffed, startling you as you briefly tightened your hold on him.

The action had your entire body jerking, heart pounding awfully in your chest and a short breath expelling from your mouth. Only for Mat to groan and fold in on himself.

The hand that had been enclosed around yours shot south and in the sudden movement you pushed yourself away from him and reached across to turn the light on, undoubtedly concerned. Your first thought was that he’d been sick again, but the light quickly illuminated a scene that, for a man, could only mean one thing.

His face was screwed up, half plastered into the pillow beneath his cheek, and both his hands were cupping the bulge in his boxers. His entire body had gone taught and when you touched his shoulder, attempting to roll him over somewhat, he let out a pained groan that bordered dangerously on the pornographic scale.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” You asked, slightly appalled, each ounce of sleep shot completely from your system.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, waiting impatiently for him to respond.

“Answer m—”

“You kneed me in the fucking balls, you bitch.” He fake cried, a hand slapping on his forehead as his other still clung to his dick.

You blinked, half expecting him to say he was joking. When that didn’t happen, you let out a loud laugh, hand going over your mouth as consideration for your neighbours managed to sneak through your brain.

“Don’t laugh at me.” He pleaded, fingers pinching his nose rather dramatically, which only seemed to make the entire situation even funnier in your mind, “It really hurts. I can feel my children withering inside me.”

That had your laugh breaking through the shield of your hand, and you had to bury your face in your pillow to muffle the sound. Mat was a funny guy, mostly unintentionally — like his actions; his unfiltered and unmanaged facial expressions when he sees someone pick something up off the floor and eat it (even immediately after they’d dropped it); his inability to listen to Waterloo by ABBA when driving because it ‘is very overwhelming’; or the things he says that you just know slip out of his mouth the very second he thinks it and then instantly regrets it. Your point is, Mat Barzal is hilarious in an endearing way, mostly because he doesn’t even realise just how amusing he is to watch out of the corner of your eye; he’s weird like that.

So when he says that, you feel as though your entire reaction is completely justified because it’s just so wacky and damn honest that it startles you entirely.

When you calm yourself down, tears resting in your eyes, and turn your face on the pillow to look at him, your cheeks aching from smiling, he’s looking at you oddly.

Softly. With mild curiosity. As though he’s just smiling unconsciously and a little confused at why exactly you were reacting to him like that.

His eyebrows were furrowed, but his eyes were soft and you knew if he’d have covered the rest of his face you would have been able to know he was smiling just from the little crinkles gathered at the corner of his eyes. But the rest of his face was visible, and he was smiling that smile where his mouth was turned down — an upside-down smile, where he was trying to smother the bright grin on his face as best as he could.

You lived for those Mat smiles because it meant he wasn’t aware of how his face was presenting itself. It was Raw Mat, not having to worry about what everyone would think of the way he looked or reacted.

And with the soft glow of your light, you caught yourself, not for the first time, wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

The first time you’d done that was when he’d dragged himself out of his dorm on your birthday, after playing a brutal match he’d lost, body worn out and so, so tired you were afraid he’d fall asleep standing up, and turned up for you. His hair had been slightly damp from the shower, and his eyes were bloodshot with dark bags, and he’d smiled at you sleepily, given you a homemade cake and it was immediately after he’d said ‘I’m always gonna show up for you’ that you’d wondered what it would be like to just kiss him then and there, in all his adorable fatigue.

Mat was just soft, and probably the cutest and hottest person you’d ever met and known. And you’d not loved him more than you had in that moment when he was looking at you in that way, completely accepting of who you were, and loving you just as you were.

You’d never really felt that comfortable around anyone.

“What?” You found yourself asking.

His expression flickered, and something seemed to sober him up a little. His tongue swiped out to wet his lips, and for a second it did cross your mind that maybe he might have been thinking about kissing you too, in a friend-way (because friends did that, right? Just to know that they were definitely meant to be friends and were soulmates in the platonic way, not the other way), but then he frowned and started trying to pick a piece of fluff off from the sheets.

You ducked your head slightly, trying to catch his eye.

“If you tell me what you’re thinking, I’ll let you cuddle me this time.” He didn’t react, and you felt a sordid pang of regret, “But only if you want to.”

His mouth lifted slightly. You took it as a win.

You waited patiently for a while, fighting and losing against the exhaustion that was beginning to claim you, but then he lifted his head up.

“I just feel like everyone I know is getting married.”

Oh. It was one of those sleepovers.

You swallowed, your arm going under your pillow and poking back out the other end, playing with the ends of Mat’s bed head.

You knew he was still drunk, that maybe this vulnerability was spurred on only by the confidence of the alcohol in his system.

“Not everyone.” You reassured.

It felt limp, and you didn’t even believe yourself. Mostly because you also knew what he was talking about, because you’d spent a few sleepless nights agonising over that fact, that maybe it was too late for you.

It kind of felt like a party everyone you know had been invited to but not you.

It was everywhere, like the worst kind of sickness.

Love. Marriage.

Kids.

Perhaps it was the kids comment after you’d kneed him that had him all pensieve and reflective all of a sudden. In any other situation that assumption would have made you smile, but truthfully, it was difficult to distract yourself from the dread that had settled itself in your chest.

“Feels like everyone.” He mumbled.

His mouth did that thing that he tended to do when he was unsure about something. It wasn’t a pout as such, but it vaguely resembled the expression of a kicked puppy, and you felt your previous elation dim rapidly. Your jaw clenched.

“Yeah.”

At your whisper of agreement, his head snapped up, and for some reason, the heat and sheer level of understanding behind his eyes had you reaching behind you to turn the light off, because you couldn’t stand the intensity of his gaze. It felt like you were being picked apart and put through an x-ray machine, like the ones in airports, but instead of suitcases it felt as though he was x-raying your entire brain.

“Are you jealous?” You whispered, slightly ashamed of your question.

“Yeah.”

There was a prick of relief.

“Of what?”

He didn’t hesitate when he answered plainly, “That I’ll never find someone I love as much as some of them love each other.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing he wouldn’t see how that vulnerable admission would have pained you. You could have said that ‘of course you will’, but that kind of reassurance never sat well with Mat – he wanted honesty, definites.

“You’re a very lovable person, and anyone who doesn’t realise how incredible you are off the ice is a complete fuckwit.” You mumbled, but upon hearing silence, continued, “Over half of marriages end in divorce, and a hundred percent of divorces are a result of marriages, so maybe it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” You were beginning to smile by the end of it, through no feat apart from the fact that what you were saying, whilst true, was a ridiculous notion of trying to encourage him to crack a smile whilst simultaneously easing his doubts.

You knew you were right, even if he didn’t, because Mat was the most lovable person you’d ever met. There was something endearing about him at first, his clever mumbles under his breath when he was surrounded by strangers, but from then on, he’d only continued to grow on you.

It was just a shame Shiv hadn’t figured that out before she broke up with him a couple of weeks ago.

Nevertheless, your comment seemed to have worked, because his eyes briefly closed as his mouth twitched upwards. It wasn’t his usual cheeky grin, but it would settle for now.

___

The breakfast buffet was packed full of stumbling, hungover adults, blinking wearily and not-so-subtly wincing at each chink of cutlery against porcelain plates. One of them was sitting opposite you, his head resting in his palm – which, every now and again, kept slipping either with a lack of real effort and energy or due to fatigue and slips in and out of consciousness. His plate was full of eggs and toast, his glass filled with orange juice, and apart from the unfair ‘I just got out of bed’ messy hairdo he’d got going on, Mat was wholly and unashamedly hungover.

He’d woken up once in the night and you had to shove the wine bucket back under his face, but it seemed only one of you was able to recollect that event, and it was you that was paying for it. It wouldn’t have been that much of a disruption if he hadn’t have spent twenty minutes dry heaving, claiming “I’m gonna–” every three seconds and if it weren’t for the fact that you’d made yourself climb out of bed to wash out said bucket again just in case, you wouldn’t be paying for such…exhaustion.

The only win out of the entire thing was that he was having to deal with a murderous headache, a swirling stomach, dizziness and travel sickness from walking – and you got to watch it all with some amount of amusement because you had warned him not to drink too much, and he was paying for his actions in real time.

You’d finished your breakfast a while ago, and had resorted to scrolling on your phone, but the sight in front of you was slowly getting your attention. Despite the hilarity of the situation, you were able to sympathise to some extent, because Mat had taken care of you on multiple occasions, so with the next gentle put-down of cutlery and the droop of his head, eyelashes indicating he’d fallen asleep again, you put your phone down on the table.

“Mat?” You whispered, mindful of his aching head. There was no response.

After snapping a quick picture, you reached a hand forwards, to clasp around the wrist clutching the fork tightly in his hand. He was warm, the t-shirt he was wearing clearly not doing enough to cool him down.

“Mathew?” You tried again, a little louder, taking the fork out of his hand. He stirred at the movement, lifting his head and blinking blearily. His eyes were red, and his skin was a little paler, lacking the usual flush.

He first glanced at the plate of eggs, then clenched his jaw and breathed heavily through his nostrils, the simple reminder of a plate of food making him nauseous, “Yeah?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You gotta eat the eggs.” You urged, picking up the knife and cutting the toast, making sure to scoop some eggs onto it, “They’re good for hangovers.”

His nostrils flared, and he crossed his arms, looking somewhere to the left of you as you raised the forkful up, “I think I’m going to be sick.” He muttered, resorting to sipping a mouthful of orange juice.

You stifled a smile at his blatant disgust, “You don’t have to eat it all.” Nothing. Fucking stubborn. “Look, I won’t let you leave this table until you’ve eaten at least half of it, and if you eat half of it, I’ll give you my eyemask, headphones and travel pillow on the drive back.”

His eyes slowly slid over to you, ensuring not to travel too fast out of fear he’d become dizzy, and you could tell he was considering your offer. He glanced between the fork, then to you, and after several repetitions of that action, you’d concluded that if you pushed the fork a little closer to his face, there wouldn’t be an issue in him accepting the food. So you did just that, and with few gags he managed to finish off at least three quarters of the plate.

It wasn’t until you were fifteen minutes into driving, Mat with his head against the window, eyes covered with your mask, wearing your headphones and his cap, that either one of you spoke.

“Are you going to Lisa and Mike’s wedding?” He mumbled, breath momentarily fogging up the glass. His words cut through the stream of music you had going, and part of you startled at the sudden interruption, having been under the impression that he’d immediately gone to sleep.

It wasn’t until he lifted the eyemask off and slid the headphones off that you managed to gather yourself, answering him with a hurried, “Yes.”

Out of the corner of your eye you could see him nod his head fractionally, his mouth twisting into that all-too familiar expression, “What?” You demanded, that nervous tingle ricocheting through your hands.

You could feel yourself tense briefly, knowing whenever he got that scheming, thoughtful flicker in his expression that he was about to do one of two things, both involving him asking a question that involved you: he was about to ask you to do something you weren’t going to necessarily agree with, or ask you a hard-hitting, deep question that would leave you both in an embarrassing silence for the rest of the trip back.

He took a deep breath, hesitating, and you switched off the music, unable to deal with the tense atmosphere he’d suddenly created with one fucking look, “Uh..” he breathed a laugh, “I was thinking–”

“Fuck me.” You muttered, pressing your lips together.

You really hoped he was exaggerating his own dramaticness.

“-That maybe we should go together to all these weddings?” He paused, and after a few seconds of your silence, burst out, “You don’t have to or anything, but I just thought it’d be a–”

“Fucking hell, I thought it was going to be something more serious than that.” You interrupted, flashing him an amused smile as he stopped talking, his jaw hanging open as he digested your words.

“Is that a yes?” He arched a brow, clearly confused at your reaction, or lack thereof.

You shrugged, turning the music back on but keeping the volume low, “Why…” You momentarily paused, “Why would we both want to subject ourselves to more weddings when they’re already the bane of our existence?”

“Because we’ll have each other for support.”

A sad smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, “Neither of us can really get through weddings without drinking. Times that by two, and it’s borderline unhealthy.” You were clutching at straws, and you knew you were, but there was something that just niggled the back of your mind when you thought about attending more weddings with Mat as your plus one.

You’d both have the questions to answer, then the disbelieving glances when you told the truth, and the rest of the evening with people zooming in on something that didn’t exist. It wasn’t that Mat made you uncomfortable, but the attention he’d bring – only to be seen with you – would surely…change something?

He straightened, taking a sip of water, “Please.”

Oh, you absolutely were now. It was settled. Mat had a way of manipulating his voice to sound so wrecked and emotional that it physically killed something inside of you. You weren’t sure if he knew the particular effect it had, but as soon as he uttered ‘please’ with such conviction, you were gone for.

He was still speaking, but the back of your mind was racking up the travel costs, hotel costs, drinks costs, and the amount of time you’d have to request off work – it was a good thing you didn’t have any other holidays planned, or that many days off sick so far; you could rack up the paid holidays unpaid holidays–

“I already told them I was going with Shiv, and now…” he trailed off, head almost swinging in your direction. You took a quick glance at him out of the corner of your eye. Just as you were about to agree and put him out of his misery, he seemed to jump ahead, a twinge of panic in his tone, “My baby cousin is getting married before me. When he was born, I was eight. And when we were growing up it was all ‘oh, when are you and Shiv gonna tie the knot?’, and now it feels like they can’t talk to me without feeling like they’re pitying me. One mention of weddings and I get ten different people looking at me like it’s…an issue that I’m not married. Like they thought for sure that she was the one I was gonna end up with.” He took a deep breath and settled back into his seat, cheeks colouring as though he was embarrassed by the passionate outburst.

In all honesty, you were shocked it had taken him this long to say something. He dated Shiv for years. Even you thought they were going to end up marrying each other. When they broke up he ended up staying at your apartment with daily half-hour phone calls and FaceTime videos with Tito, who seemed so fucking torn about the whole situation, knowing the both of you could only work together to help him so much; he had to find a way to help himself eventually.

There was something about her not ‘being able to cope with his lifestyle’. You weren’t too sure of the specifics.

“Did you think that you were going to end up with her?” It was brave of you to ask. It shocked you that it was also the first time you even thought to ask him about it; you just assumed he did.

Yet, judging from the way his eyes went straight to the road ahead, he was somewhat at odds with himself, “I don’t know what I thought.” He shrugged, surprising you, “At first, I thought ‘this is either going to end in marriage or be the worst breakup of my life’, but I think that wore off after a while. She was comfortable, and we were content. Not so much happy, but tolerating each other.” Then he sighed, reaching to fiddle with the eyemask, and you took that as a hint to leave the topic alone for the time being, “I did love her, but if I’m being completely honest, I’ve been putting off buying a ring for a while. I’m kind of glad I didn’t though, because things are starting to feel more right now than they have in a while. It hurts to admit that, but…”

You nodded, proud he’d spilled what had been playing at his mind, “So this wedding deal – are we going to be colour matching–”

“Thank fuck.” He whispered, “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life thanking you for this–”

“Just shut the fuck up and go back to sleep.”

He adhered to the former, but didn’t immediately act on the latter. He was smiling, probably more than you’d seen him smile in a while, and you knew you wouldn’t come to regret the decision one bit. Mat was one of your best friends, as childish as that sounds, and if it meant taking some of that weight off him at your expense, you’d probably do it whenever you could.

“I love you too.”

You shot him a glance at the words he’d said, cheeks blazing. He knew you did.

#mat barzal x reader #mat barzal oneshot #plus one m barzal #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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