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nowgiveusakiss · 2 years

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modern!eddie showing up at your house after a fight in his beat up van.

you can hear him coming up the street so you stand on the doorstep, waiting for him to pull into your driveway. you watch him park and hop out of the driver's side. eddie avoids your gaze as he opens all the doors to his van before running up to meet you on your doorstep.

“eddie, what are you doing?” you’re confused and honestly, you’re still a little pissed off at him from your fight earlier. it only frustrates you more when he ignores your question. you let him grab your hand to lead you to stand in the middle of your front yard. the grass is damp from the rain earlier in the night, making stray blades of grass stick to your bare feet. before you can ask why he’s making you stand in the wet grass at 2 in the morning, he’s hovering his ringed finger over your mouth. he can tell that doesn’t make you too happy by the way your head jerks back and your eyebrows jump up. eddie knows you're about two seconds away from scolding him but he just needs you to work with him. to just give him an inch so he can take the rest of the mile running.

"just- just stay right there. please." he brushes a strand of hair that's fallen into your eyes before he's dashing back to his van. you watch his hair sway over his back from his movements. the metal chain on his pants clinking. taking this opportunity while he's got his back turned to you, you allow yourself to ogle at him. even when you're angry at him, he's still the most beautiful person you've ever seen. he's swapped out his trademark black jeans for blue instead. still ripped at the knees, of course. he thinks it looks more metal that way. his black bandana nearly falling out of his back pocket but somehow never does. you think it must be witchcraft. or it could just be that eddie munson is made of magic. unsurprisingly, he's in some old band tee you picked out for him on one of your frequent trips to the local thrift store. he almost always ends up cutting the sleeves off. not that you're complaining. especially not in this moment when he leans over the passenger seat of his van to fiddle with the radio.

you get an eye full of eddie's strong arms and a peek at what he's hiding under his shirt. a small flash of pale skin inked with tattoos. the patch of hair on his lower belly that leads to the eighth wonder of the world. the one wonder that only you're privy to. a glint of silver from the piercing in one of his nipples. when you asked him why only one, he said he's leaving one unpierced until you get your nipples pierced too. that way you can get them done together. you're ripped from your thoughts when a curse from eddie breaks the stillness that's fallen over your street. he's mumbling to himself as he makes his way back over to you, phone in hand.

he looks up from his screen to meet your anxious eyes. he can tell you're beginning to lose your patience with him. eddie starts to second guess operation: make up and maybe get laid after. what if this just makes you angrier? what if you tell him to get lost? all these what if's running rampant in his mind.

almost as if you two are linked in some cosmic way, what if's start peaking around the corners of your mind too. why does he look so nervous? what if he came here to break up with you? what if this fight was the last straw? your eyes flick down to where his thumb presses against the small device in his hand. music from his van starts to flood the otherwise silent street. you're immediately glancing at your neighbor's houses, afraid to disturb them at such an early hour.

"eddie! my neighbors!" you're whisper yelling at him. he chuckles a bit at how wide your eyes are. at how worried you look about disturbing these people you barely know.

"what about them?" he grins. he can't help but admire the way you care about these random people's rest. as someone who decides the best time to learn new riffs is at the ass crack of dawn, eddie cannot relate.

"what if they wake up? what if they call the cops?" possibilities of what could go wrong are swarming your mind, on top of all the pent up anger you have towards eddie right now. you aren't sure what his end game is, showing up at your house like this. but if it's to irritate you more than you already are, he's doing a damn good job of it.

"see, the thing about your neighbors is... i don't really care. now dance with your boyfriend, won't you?"

dance? what.. oh.

before you're really able to allow the realization of what he came here for sink in, he's wrapping an arm around your waist and holding one of your hands in his. he pulls you flush against him as he sways you both back and forth slowly. eddie notices you're straining your neck to gaze up at him. your staring makes him nervous. he takes the hand resting on your waist to the back of your head and eases you to rest on his chest. it's in the warmth of his embrace that you finally start registering the music and the romantic gesture eddie has planned out just for you.

remember always that love is all you need

the song becomes background noise to the beat of eddie's heart. the very same heart that eddie would rip out of his chest and wrap in a pretty little bow if you asked him to. it's not like that heart of his isn't yours already. eddie would say you stole it from him the second you walked into the hawkins middle auditorium to watch him in the talent show. but that wouldn't be accurate. he handed his heart to you on a silver platter that very moment at the ripe age of 13. whether you knew you had it or not didn't matter to him. all that mattered was that you kept it. and you have.

i'm with you always, always

eddie whispers your name softly, a warm sound that reminds you of hot chocolate on a cold december night. you hum into his chest, not quite ready to pull yourself from the safety you've found there.

"i wanted to apologize to you. i'm sorry, baby. i hate seeing you upset and knowing you were here, by yourself... it made me feel sick. i never wanted things to get as heated as they did. and seeing you cry..." his voice is wavering. cracking. his chest aches at the image of you in his trailer, tears falling in fat drops down your cheeks.

eddie likes to think he's a tough, hardened guy. not a lot makes him cry. most of the time, that is true. but not when it comes to you. it's with you he finds himself at his most vulnerable. eddie melts like butter for you. like ice cream on hawkins hottest summer days. it's not uncommon for him to mirror your emotions. however, it is very eddie to multiply them by 10. you get a promotion you've been working hard for, he reacts as if you just told him he's won the lottery. growing frustrated at the bartender who continuously skips over you, eddie is having to hold himself back from jumping behind the bar. watching you cry during a sad movie and he finds himself watery eyed too. the same goes for your anger. it started out with you being mildly upset but eddie took that anger and turned it into fury. he felt it like fire burning under his skin but your tears were quite literally water to his flames. it was as if you dumped ice water over his head. but before he could reach out for you, you were running away from him. out of the trailer in shambles. a sight that shook eddie to his core.

"oh, eddie..." you finally lift your head from his chest to look up at him. he's let a few tears fall down his cheeks and you want to kiss them away. you try to gently pull your hand out of his grip to wipe the wetness from his cheek but he holds on tight, not ready to let go just yet.

"i just.. i need you to know how sorry i am. you mean everything to me. you're my best friend, my soulmate, my lover, my whole fucking world. it tears me to pieces to know that i made you cry. and not even in the sexy way!" he revels in the way you huff out a laugh and give him your most dramatic eyeroll. leave it to eddie to find a way to make you laugh in such a somber moment. "but seriously, i won't ever act like that again. i can't guarantee we won't fight or piss each other off, but what i can guarantee is that i would sooner die than be the cause of a replay from yesterday. not to make it about me but i can't see you like that again. it damn near broke me. i love you so much, baby." the world seems to take a brief pause just for the two of you. time slows down and the earth stops turning. eddie's words have you forgetting what the fight was even about in the first place. it was bad, that's for certain. tensions were high, harsh words were exchanged. the last thing you remember is rushing out of his trailer, a sobbing mess after he yelled at you. you can't even remember what he said but you know whatever it was, he didn't mean it. just like you didn't mean any of the harsh words you threw at him. you're just as much responsible for this as he is.

"i'm sorry too. i shouldn't have pushed you that far. i didn't mean anything i said and i'm sorry that i hurt you. i don't think i can top your speech,” a whisper of a laugh falls from eddie’s lips. “but i do love you. i think i'll love you until the sun swallows the earth, eddie munson."

now, eddie knew he was fucked the first time he laid eyes on you. but it's in this moment, after those words, he understands just how fucked he truly is. you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you don't even realize it. eddie has never felt love like yours. your love that is all encompassing. knows no bounds. love that is soft like the skin of the back of your knee. that is warm like the sunshine over the picnic table in the woods. gentle like the way you brush his hair for him. safe like the way you check the locks of the trailer without fail every single night. stable like the bookshelf you built together for your place. it's overwhelming for eddie. but he will take whatever you give him with open arms.

he can't help staring at you. admiring you. the way the moon reflects in your eyes. the way it makes your skin shine. the flutter of your lashes when you look up at him. the smile you're giving him. the unshed tears that wet your eyes. he would die for you. but dying is too easy.

eddie is going to live for you.

you wonder what he's thinking about as he's gone completely silent. you can see his brown eyes canvassing your face like he’s searching for something. after he's found whatever it was he was looking for, he's releasing your hand to rest his on your cheek. the hand on your waist lifts to meet your other cheek. he holds you in his strong hands like you're the most precious gift he's ever received. and to him, you are just that.

eddie finally kisses you. it feels like it's been a lifetime since your lips have met. it feels like coming home. like eddie is breathing the life back into you. his lips are soft, slightly chapped. he tastes like cigarettes, sweet mint gum, and the salt from tears shed. he kisses you gently at first, like he's afraid to break you. but when you let out a small gasp into his mouth, his kiss turns feverish. hungry. eddie is kissing you like he wants to consume you. and you want him to. his tongue is sliding with yours, dancing together in a rehearsed rhythm they both know by heart. your hand is tangled in the mess of curls on the back of his head to pull him deeper. closer. you want to crawl inside of him and live there. his hand leaves your face and grips the fat of your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. eddie starts to pull back to catch his breath but not before he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth. bringing it with him and letting it go with a pop. you can feel each others breaths against your faces. gasping for air and taking each other in. you break the silence first with a small giggle. a stray butterfly takes flight in eddie's tummy at the sound.

"you make it so hard to stay mad at you." eddie belly laughs at that. this is the moment you both silently agree to move past the fight. to take the lessons learned and run with them.

"why would you want to stay mad at me? i'm pretty fuckin' awesome. plus i think you'd miss me too much." he places a small peck to your lips as you're nodding in agreement. you notice over his shoulder your neighbor, an elderly woman, is peeking out her window. you relay this information to eddie and he fumbles for his phone to pause the music. a new, and much louder, song playing.

"you're gonna have to apologize to the whole subdivision for waking them up at such an ungodly hour." you know you don't have to tell eddie that. for all the talk he spouts about not caring, he'll be the first one to leave an 'i'm sorry' note on every doorstep. eddie does have a soft spot for your little neighborhood. it's filled with kind people who ask him how his gig went and when he's gonna move in. a stark contrast to the people of forest hills who give him nasty glares and yell awful things at him. except for the little redhead girl across the way. she seems nice.

"i'm sure they'll understand when i tell them the whole story. true love must overcome!"

"but true love won't give them the hours of sleep they just lost." you're pulling eddie over to his van to close and lock all his doors.

"if they are so heartless, i'll just mow their lawn or something to make it up to them." that's probably what he'll end up doing. he already mows for some of the older folks around hawkins. he never asks for a dime but they always sneak him a little something.

once you've locked up his van, you’re pulling him into the house by the chain around his neck. a mischievous grin on your lips.

"come inside and show me how sorry you really are, lover boy." eddie nearly trips himself running after you, ripping his shirt off in the process.

"yes ma'am."

i hope this lives up to expectations! i just want to say thank you all so much for all the love on my first 'official' fic!! i can't believe i wrote something that people enjoyed so much. i do have several wips going right now, some including smut. so hopefully at some point soon, i shall try my hand again at that realm.

the song linked is what inspired this little blurb. i know the meaning of the song isn’t really relevant to the situation i wrote. BUT i felt the rhythm and the tone of the song felt very fitting. like i could see eddie being okay with slowdancing if it was to something like this.

as always likes are appreciated!! reblogs/comments get lots of smooches!!! <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #st4 #eddie munson hc #eddie munson headcannon #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things 4 #my writing

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aesopsbaby · 3 years

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Hear me out! Yandere Mal from TD with prompt 13 AND! Darling is a ball of sunshine just rlly happy and carefree and they are just so oblivious to Mal's yandere tendencies. Thanks! And keep me anon :)

13♡"Oh, don’t worry this isn’t my blood. It’s the blood of the person who touched you earlier today."

Note:MAL,,,MY BELOVED (Mal is a bit OOC in this <\3)

Mal is possessive and not entirely obsessive. He strives more on having you to himself than leeching onto you and following you everywhere.

Mal takes what he wants,he sees you and he immediately works up a plan to take you away from everyone else.

He finds it endearing whenever you smile at him brightly after he had beaten someone up for staring at you for far too long. Not like you knew anyways,,,,but still. Mal finds it adorable that you have no idea what's happening.

Mal does this thing where he'll stand behind you menacingly while you're speaking to someone else. When you notice the person nervously averting eye contact and having their eyes darting from you and to something behind you,you would confusingly tilt your head slightly to the side and before you could turn your head around,Mal would gently wrap his arms around your waist and place his head on your shoulder,smiling softly at you.

"Hello Y/n." Mal smiles at you before his eyes lands on the person you were speaking to and shooting them a slight glare. "Mik- wait,Mal! Hello!" You cheerfully glee at him,making no plans to move his hands from your waist.

"Oh please continue!" You assured the person to continue their story,contentedly beaming at them,oblivious to the eyes glaring daggers at them from behind you. "Yeah. Go on." Mal spoke,venom laced in the last few words,forcing a smile onto his lips.

"U-uhm..i-ill just go now! See you..uhm..later!" The person stutters,dashing away from you. "Hmm..I wonder what got them so spooked..!" You hummed in thought.

Mal thinks you're the purest being on the world!

Given his possessiveness towards you,this will really mess with Mike and the other alters :(

Honestly I can see Mal being more in control when Mike is around you since Mal doesn't want anyone else to be with you except for him.

If Vito or Manitoba were to come out suddenly when Mal is with you,,,,, ohhh boy- Mal would actually come back into control really quickly but he would throw a temper tantrum for awhile. He wouldn't hurt you though!! Don't worry <3 But he would be pretty terrifying;Spouting profanities and threats to murder the other alters. Even if it may be impossible ...

Not related but I can see Mal mocking the people who speaks to you.

"Oh! I'm [name] and I think I deserve a chance to speak to Y/n! Even though I'm a freak!"

"Look at me! I'm [Name] and I'm a total loser!"

He'll frequently do that to piss off the people who speaks to you-

Knowing how oblivious and gullible you are,he could outright threaten someone and still get a giggle from you telling him to "stop joking around Mal! You're scaring them!" And Mal would have the biggest smile on his face as he relents and smirks at the person,"Oh oh,of course,Y/n! I forgot they can be such scaredy cats!"

He uses this to his advantage as well,,,

Since we know that Mal is a very dangerous yandere. We also know that Mal wouldn't hesitate to murder someone or just bring them to the brink of death.

He will usually just punch them repeatedly or stab them in the limbs. He knows you'll be devasted if someone you knew were to die,so he would hold himself back on killing them.

If someone were to warn you about Mal and his tendencies,they probably wouldn't even be able to get a word out before Mal is by your side or maybe..Mal might even have thrown something at them to knock them out-

Given how violent Mal is,it wouldn't be a surprise that he has a bad temper as well. He acts like a little child when he sees someone holding/touching you during a challenge or as a friendly handshake/hug. He would whine when he finally gets a hold of you.

Mal:"Why did they get to hold you! That's..thats not fair!"

Y/n:"Well...you're holding onto me right now! Doesn't that make up for it?"

Mal,literally clinging onto you with his hands around your waist and his face buried in your shoulder: "...no it doesn't!"

He would also threatened the people who touched you- "I'll cut their fingers off for even daring to lay their filthy hands on you." Mal spoke,seething through his clench teeth as he grabs your hand and starts dusting your palms. All the while,he is muttering all the different ways he would decapitate them and they will only be sitting like a few feet away from the both of you.

And while he is coming out with the most gruesome way to murder them,you would just smile at him giddily,almost as if he wasn't plotting murder and was just talking about a picnic planning,,,

Speaking of which,sometimes his threats...aren't really just threats. Mal would take it further and actually stay true to his words.

So he would definitely wait till that particular person is alone and he would strike. Punching them,stabbing them,using any sharp objects to inflict some type of pain to them. Anyways,whatever he does,Mal would DEFINITELY leave the area with a satisfied smirk and blood splatters on him.

And when he finds you,you would have a concerned look at your face. Did he run into a bear on the way and got hurt? Or was it one of the traps that Chris had set up..?

You would rush to him and worriedly ask whether he was fine.

All your attention of him would make Mal feel all light headed <3 He would melt instantly and just smile at you adorningly. You were so clueless its so adorable!

Although he loves your concerns,he would still hush you,calming you down and assuring you that he wasn't hurt.

"Oh, don’t worry this isn’t my blood. It’s the blood of the person who touched you earlier today."

While the rest of the campers are terrified of the image before them;Mal covered in blood and saying that. You would have a confused look on your face before you stifle a laugh. "As if! I'm not gonna fall for that! I'm not that dumb,Mal."

Mal just smiles at you with the softest smile <3 Oh you were so oblivious and he's so in love.

#total drama x reader #Tdas #total drama all stars #yandere total drama x reader #yandere total drama #Mike Total Drama #Mike Total drama x reader #Total drama Mike x reader #Mike Tdas #Mike Td #Mal Total Drama #mal td x reader #Mal total drama x reader #Total drama Mal x reader #TDAS Mal x Reader

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rayofsunas · 3 years

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s/o goes on a mission with them.

A/n: so, as you may or may not have seen by my recent “updates” I’m obsessed with genshin, and I’m pretty sure for one day I played for a solid 5 hours- my eyes hurt pls. but I did miss writing, I’ve just been unmotivated and busy with college stuff (mainly stressing, I haven’t even started my essay yet shh). n e ways, here’s an update, I hope this quenches your thirst 🙊

Summary: s/o goes on a mission with them.

Parings: Kaeya/Reader, Diluc/Reader, Xiao/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader (all with a fem reader)

Warnings: crack, swearing, worrying Teyvat bois

Word count: 1.7k

Kaeya

when you’re assigned to be on a mission just the two of you, you assume he’s happy, and don’t get me wrong, he totally is!

usually you’re never on missions together, deciding it was better that way because you both get distracted (you realized after marrying, space was always nice too, space was healthy)

though the decision mainly came about because you two good around a lot... and other things 😏

no but deep down he’s worried when you go on this mission together, it’s been a while since the two of you have, a little too long, and the nerves came back

he’s always worried whenever you go on missions, and sure he’ll always be there to protect you when he’s with you (not that you need it) but anything can happen

sure taking out a bunch of Hilichurls was deemed easy, especially together, but he still worried

he never said a word about it though, he’d always keep a watchful eye on you (he does have a reputation to keep after all)

“Ya know, you did well today.” You said plopping down beside your husband, using your pyro ability to light the twigs and leaves in front of you.

“Of course I did,” he boasted, eye lighting up in the dark of the night. “What kind of Knight would I be if I hadn’t, babe.”

You groaned in annoyance, this was the ever so haughty husband you knew.

“Please, I could’ve easily wiped your ass if it weren’t for the fact that we haven’t been paired together in a while; I forgot about your skill.” You teased. The cryo user glared at you.

“Skill? Surely, I have more than one.” He snipped teasingly. Your head shook, feigning innocence. “Are you sure?” A hum sounded in your throat. “I couldn’t tell... Maybe if you hadn’t been staring holes into me every time I used my sword, I could see your progression.”

Kaeya visibly tensed, but he tried to make it go unnoticed, you saw his shoulders raise slightly.

“Hmm?” You laughed wholeheartedly.

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me, mister.”

Despite having been caught, a grin spread across his face, he was enjoying your teasing tonight it seemed.

“There’s a reason we don’t go on missions together, but, I did have fun with you today, despite the worrying part.”

Diluc

um, the ever so stoic and emotionless fire boy is WORRIED AF

and he accidentally lets it show

he’s totally fine if you’re only going against a few low-rank Hilichurls and Slime, but against any of the Hypostasis’s, he’s worried for your wellbeing (after a few days of trying to beat one of the Hypostasis’s I finally did, APPLAUD ME PLS, I was crying)

the very first mission you went on together, the job was done quickly and without much trouble, but before and after, he would not stop asking you if you would like to be escorted back to the Knights headquarters

he said it was his duty to protect any and every Mondstadt Citizen

you knew he was also just particularly worried about you

despite being worried, he is happy you’re here, though wishes it were under different circumstances other than battle

he rarely sees you, so it’s a nice change to be placed on a mission together instead of alone, you missed each others company

BUT HE’S STILL WORRIED

“I’m a Knight of Favonius, I don’t particularly need to be escorted back, I appreciate your concern though.” Poor Diluc, the face he made looked like pure defeat, you used the Knight of Favonius card on him. And yes, you were capable, but he did know a certain Knights of Favonius Captain who he loathed a little too much,

“That’s why I’m worried.”

You scoffed at his jab, though it didn’t necessarily hurt too much.

“Please, I can handle myself. We’re not all like Captain Kaeya, but even then give him some credit!”

“I know you’re more than capable but-”

”No buts! Let me do what I know how, please. Or else I could slip up, and then actually put myself in danger.”

“Okay...” You nodded, sending a soft thanks to your lover's way, but he just stared at you before muttering, “But let me escort you back to Mondstadt.”

👁 👄 👁

“I’m sorry, did you hear a word I just said?”

“I see your skills darling, but-” He paused, noticing how your arms folded across your chest. You were annoyed. “I’d much prefer if you took care of the greatest battle of all; Kaeya.”

“Kaeya does not need my assistance.”

“He’s probably in a ditch somewhere, and it would be much appreciated by Jean if we did not leave him to rot there,” Diluc explained.

You had seen Kaeya earlier, and yes although he usually frequented the bars and whatnot, he was surprisingly sober. He hadn’t promised he would stay that way, but it would take hours for said man to get completely drunk to the point where he was immobile. You had only left Mondstadt four hours ago.

“Amber can find him. She did last time,” He watched in disbelief as you sauntered off towards the hill in front of you, dead set on continuing your mission. “Come on I see an Electro Hypostasis ahead.”

“Also, you could’ve just said you were worried about me, instead of trying to send me back home! Kaeya is fine, worrywart.”

Xiao

it’s not that he’s worried about you and it’s not that he shouldn’t be worried either

he can be both given the right moment

the only reason he doesn’t want you going with him is because he claims he focuses better on missions alone

you could understand where he was coming from, but you would’ve liked to have gone with him when he first left

you mentioned going on a mission with him in Liyue the night before he locked you in your Liyue Harbor Guesthouse room

you were still asleep when he’d snuck out and had found a note in the sheets where he’d previously been sleeping hours ago

it read, went on a quick mission, be back soon. - Xiao

...one of the cleaning ladies had come to your rescue after seeing various lounge chairs from the hallway stacked and pushed against the door (she was supposed to clean the room that morning after having seen Xiao leaving, figuring it was empty to begin cleaning)

she was shocked to see you hurriedly throwing your shoes on and grabbing your spear, confused obviously

she’d asked if you were being held against your will or if you were in danger, but you’d dashed off before you could give her an answer

eventually after asking a few Liyue Harbor Merchants, you were able to get a rough estimate as to where your boyfriend went

when you finally caught up to him, out of breath, he was somewhat shocked to see you

“Hey!” You called after the ancient man, watching with glee as he turned around with wide eyes. “Locking me in the room seriously?”

“I didn’t think you’d catch up. I left hours ago.”

“I thought so too. But one of the Merchants gave me a shortcut to your destination.”

“Interesting.” He said, hand going to his chin in thought.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?!”

“Interesting.” You mocked

He stared blankly, without a doubt the gears working in his brain, spinning and ticking at an unbelievable rate.

“No, one more thing... How did you get out of the room? I barricaded it.”

👁 👄 👁

Scaramouche

you better be someone who can handle yourself, and you probably are, or else he would not be able to stand being with you romantically AT ALL

he’s had you practice with him, just to show him what you’re capable of, before he ever allowed you to travel with him

after deeming you a worthy opponent, he decided you would fair well with him

he would’ve never allowed you to come if he knew you’d be a burden, slow him, or get hurt

after you proved yourself, he does not doubt you so he’s not going to be worried at all

he’s only worried if you start slowing him down, then he’ll think you’re incompetent to be traveling together

if you slow him down, you’re being sent home, no questions asked

though because he does love you, you receive a bit of a less severe punishment for doing something wrong on a mission

he may ask you once or twice to keep up with him, or take your enemies out without less hesitation, but that’s if he feels particularly generous, most of the times he’s harsh and will not tolerate your mistakes, no chances given

fortunately for you, he felt extremely generous today

It was truly evident that you were slowly pissing off the sixth Harbinger and he was losing his patience with you. Yet you continued flirting with him to get a rise out of said man (yeah, same); he often reacted, and you enjoyed it when he did. You liked seeing him react and appear differently than always being so uptight and mean.

It was a common belief that he often traveled with a young woman, who had Pyro for a vision, and she was strong but often loved to distract and tease her fellow Harbinger. You were not so surprisingly, that young woman.

“Keep up, I won’t ask you again.”

Today, you were on a mission together which wasn’t rare, but your other mission was to piss him off as much as you could. So, you purposely walked behind him, very slow. Pretending to take in the chilly scenery of Snezhnaya, although you had seen it thousands of times, acting as if it was something new.

“You said that the last two times.” You said, cheerfully laughing to yourself when you heard him growl lowly. He didn’t pay any mind to your retort but began showing more signs that he was aggravated.

He hissed, “There’s not much to admire, you can barely see.” Yes, he was right, he’d caught onto your antics very fast, but that didn’t matter.

“As I said, if you keep slowing me down, I’ll continue without you.” Your eyes rolled. Would he?

“Leaving a member of the Harbinger behind wouldn’t be very honorary, but if I must, I will.”

A pout took shape on your lips. “Please, you wouldn’t leave your lovely girlfriend out here to freeze would you?”

“You have pyro abilities, you would fair just fine.”

“Hmm... I suppose so, but I’d get lonely.”

“Then be quiet and walk faster.”

1.13.21, rayofsunas

#rayofsunas #genshin #genshin impact #kaeya #kaeya x reader #diluc #diluc x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader

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infernal-fire · 3 years

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TAU (1/2)

Summary: Steve Rogers traps you inside his mansion. Your only means of escape? The naïve A.I., Bucky, that is designed to kill you if you ever step out of line.

Pairings: Dark!CEO!Steve x reader, A.I!Bucky x reader, Bucky x reader

This is part of a series of works (not interconnected). I highly suggest you read the description of the series master list to better understand the premise of this story.

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, mention of sedative, technical Lima syndrome, psychological abuse, violence, blood, character deaths, injuries, mention of depression, suicide & poverty

The chair was on the brink of collapsing, yet Martha folded her arms and leaned back into it anyway. You internally grimaced, waiting for her to fall flat on her ass or give you the bad news. It had to be bad news. You had done this enough times to know that she periodically bounced her right leg only when there was bad news. These days, that was often.

You huffed once, loud enough for her to hear, hoping to hint that you were hanging by the threads of your patience. She took the hint, finally throwing open the drawer in front of you with excessive force. Pens rolled and a notebook slid towards her amid the force. Again, another piece of furniture that was ready to give in. For someone as stingy as her, you aren’t surprised that it hasn’t been replaced - just wondering why she’s treating it like it won’t disintegrate any second now.

Martha’s plump fingers slapped a couple of bills onto the table, her seedy eyes challenging you to pluck them from under her hand. You wrestled the bills out of from under her palm and diligently counted them, only to shake your head defeatedly.

“That’s it?” you snarled.

“Steal better shit next time,” she replied, shrugging.

You slowly sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, refusing to open your eyes and face her.

“I really need the money.”

When you open your eyes again, it’s because you hear the roll of her weathered chair. Now standing full height, the middle-aged woman shook her head softly, a hint of a smirk playing out on her lips.

“Like I said; steal better shit.” She turned to leave before facing you again. “You could always come and work with our girls.”

She glanced through the door that was cracked open, eyes resting on the table situated in the corner of the adjacent room. Around it, a group of girls set down cards while pushing poker chips around.

“Sell my body? I’d rather die,” you scoffed.

“Suit yourself. Now, get out.”

“Was planning to.” You flipped her the bird, knowing that she was watching you leave.

“Real classy,” she called after you. “You gotta come back here for your next week’s dinner, you whore!”

“That’s all you,” you smiled at her before slamming the door closed on your way out. Oh, the satisfaction of pissing someone off; unparalleled.

Placing your measly wage into a makeshift purse, you made your way back home. You hugged your frame tightly, keeping your head down and pacing through the dilapidated neighbourhood.

Once upon a time, when you were new to the shadier areas of town, you affirmed to yourself every day that this situation was temporary. The hope for a better job, better apartment and better tomorrow kept you going for a long time. Deep down though, you knew it wasn’t temporary, and now you were being proven right every day. What was keeping you going these days? Multiple times, you delayed the contemplation of that question, knowing that if you thought about it… well, it’s better to not go there.

You were careful to double-check the lock on your door and windows when you stepped into the cramped shower. Today, you thanked God for hot water, even though you were sure he didn’t exist. Mind empty like a brand new chalkboard, you shuffled around your one-room housing and put together something edible to appease the churning stomach.

Your ear perked up at what sounded like the creaking of the fourth floorboard from your bed. You locked the door. You were sure of it.

Still, you peeked over the short dividing wall that hid the view of your bed from the kitchen. Nothing. You shook your head at your paranoia and turned back to get to the less-than-appetizing meal waiting for you.

Steve jammed the needle into your neck, expecting you to fall back into his arms. Instead, your forehead hits the edge of your counter and you slump onto the floor. Your eyes shutting down and head throbbing, you reach out to feel your attacker and touch Steve with saucy fingers. He groans in annoyance as he picks up your whimpering form.

Thump, thump, thump.

The nightclubs you frequent were full of snobby, rich kids who didn’t know the value of wealth. You stole to survive. They could survive without their wristwatch for one night.

Thump, thump, thump.

Music turned the speakers inside out, deafening those closest to it, but the youth are resilient to damage in any form. For you, though, it was too loud; too much. It wasn’t uncommon of you to walk away from the scene with a pounding head.

Thump, thump, thump.

The inside of your head resembled the thumping of club speakers. Jaw slack and eyes foggy, you tried to rub your temples. But your arms wouldn’t move.

Sitting up the best you could, you looked down at your hands to see them bound by zip ties, sitting on your lap. It was joke-worthy how your captor thought they could bind you with zip ties, of all things. He would have to do better than this.

You tugged on the end of the tie using teeth and tightened it some more before huddling your knees up to your chest. Bringing your hands down as hard as you can against your kneecap, you awaited the snapping sound of the zip tie. Nothing came. You look at your hands again, realizing that they were still bound.

“Don’t do that,” a voice piped up from the dark corner of the room. Startled, you look to the source of the voice but no light fell in that direction. For the first time, you took in your surroundings: half of the room was divided by a set of bars. The other side had large machinery with wires running towards the jail section. As you trailed your eyes across the wires, you noticed a closed door.

At least you knew it was possible to escape now.

Quickly turning to the place the voice came from, you scooted backwards some more and anticipated the arrival of your captor.

A woman crawled forward slowly with bounded legs and arms like yours.

Seeing that it was just another prisoner, you tightened the strap of your zip tie again and tried breaking it one more time. It snapped. Rubbing your wrists where they were bound, you got straight to undoing the bind on your legs. Beside you, the girl moved closer and repeatedly begged you not to free yourself.

“Shut up, Brit,” you mumbled, referring to her accent.

The bind on your legs gave away and you stood up and stretched. Tentatively stalking around the cell, you noticed the toilet and sink. Why would he have those amenities in here if you were tied up anyway? When you went to touch the bars separating the room, the girl cried out again.

“Stop! Don’t!”

You rolled your eyes and touched it anyway. Electricity surged through you and you yelped, pulling back immediately.

“Could’ve told me it was an electric gate,” you snapped.

“Don’t try to escape.”

You looked at her incredulously. “And sit here like ducks, waiting for him to kill us?”

“Someone will find us!” she pleaded.

“Look at me! Look at you! No one is looking for us. The police won’t blink twice if people like us are gone. And he knows that.” You eyed the door that was inside your cell and looked to the other one outside the bars.

“Do you want me to remove your binds or not?”

The girl sheepishly looked down before sticking her arms out for you.

“My name is Peggy,” she offered as she stood up. She held your arm for support when blood rushed to her head. You shot her a withering look in response and she took her hand off.

“I don’t think we can leave. He can probably hurt us with these implants.” Peggy pulled her hair to one side and showed you the nape of her neck. A glowing red triangle shone from under her skin.

Your eyes widened, immediately reached for the back of your head. You felt around and touched the area that stung a little when you touched it. You compulsively hissed, realizing that your implant was fresh and the skin around it had not healed yet.

“Has he done anything to you using the implant?” you held and shook Peggy’s shoulders while you questioned.

“No, no, but he said it collects brain data and that it was connected to my spinal column, so I shouldn’t try anything.”

“He spoke to you?”

“Once. It’s Steve Rogers, the inventor guy on the cover of all the Forbes magazines.”

“Brain data,” you silently repeated as you look to the other side of the cell again.

“I have an idea. Rip your clothes like this,” you demonstrated.

Using the rags ripped off from both of your prisoner uniforms, the pair of you created a long rope-like contraption with a loop on the end. You stuck your hand through the gaps in the cell and tried to fling the loop to a nook in the machinery. Failing hurt, your arm accidentally brushing against the metal once or twice before the loop finally caught onto a crevice.

“That’s the wrong part,” your fellow inmate breathed.

“Yeah, but that’ll work too.” You pulled as hard as you could and a section of the machine broke off, sparks flying from the source. It crackled and caught on fire.

Peggy was pulling the cell door open, grunting as she tried her best. It gave way and you both looked at each other briefly before dashing out of the room. The jail room went up in flames behind you. Peggy looked over her shoulder, but you yanked her arm, signalling her to keep running.

You flew up stairs and through doors, finally making your way into a clearing. Peggy rushed to what seemed to be the entrance door and frantically banged on it.

“HELP!”

“That’s not gonna work!” you rushed to the door and inspected the lock. On the right side, there was a screen that displayed a handprint.

Do not try to escape. Only Steven can leave the premises.

“What?” you whispered. The new voice was coming from all around you, seemingly through fixtures in the ceiling and walls, but you couldn’t be sure. The situation was tense and you were scared the whole house was going to burn down.

Before you could catch her, Peggy planted her hand on the screen which scanned and turned red. Suddenly, all the lights emanated red, accompanying a booming alarm that blared through the house.

In the distance, what you assumed was a statuesque décor piece, came to life. It reminded you of the spiders from the Maze Runner. A motorized killing machine. It stalked towards Peggy and you with pincers appearing from its side.

Screaming, Peggy ran. So did you, but you weren’t sure if you were screaming. You couldn’t hear through the noise your friend was making on top of the deafening alarm.

The spider machine stuck out its knife-like hands, trying to stab you. As you ran into another room, you frantically searched for an exit. Right now, your priority was to survive this thing.

You pulled open a cupboard in what appeared to be the study and instructed Peggy to climb in. The monster was coming. There wasn’t much time to hide.

You shut the closet door and hid behind a lounging chair in the corner.

The machine came in and scanned the room, looking for your heat signatures. It could see Peggy.

The cupboard door flung open and Peggy shrieked, crawling out of it in attempts to move out of the line of attack. She took 4 steps on her knees and looked straight into your eyes.

“HELP ME-”

You screamed when she was dragged back towards the machine. You couldn’t save her anymore. You mobilized and ran back to the living room area, not even turning back to address blood that splattered across your back. It wasn’t in your best interest to find out how she was killed.

“Aries!”

Frozen in fear, you look to your right to see the entrance door open. There stood your captor, staring at the machine that was now hovering over you.

“Stop,” he muttered and set down his briefcase.

Aries retracted its pincers, making its way back to the little pedestal it was perched on before. It powered down just as the CEO stepped into the house and glared at you.

For a split second, the doors were open, and you considered tackling past him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

You collapsed onto the floor where you were already lying down. Getting out was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated.

Your hands were bound again, but this time, behind you. You were seated on a pedestal like the one Aries was on, except this one had an ugly glass décor piece that extended to the ceiling. You tugged on the bonds, hoping for some leeway, but Rogers had learned his lesson.

You shook your head side to side, trying to get pieces of hair and blood off your face. Eventually, you had to give up, slumping into the post your arms were tied to.

“You cost me 7 million dollars worth of tech,” Steve’s voice sounded from another room.

“If you let me go, I swear on my life I won’t tell anyone. They won’t believe me anyway.”

He appeared in front of you and placed both hands on either side of your thighs.

“Things will work out for you, if you just… shut up.”

You exhaled and turned your face to the right, hoping he’d stop invading your personal space.

“Just… please, untie me.”

He stood back and considered your request before rounding the side of the pedestal and untying you.

“Bucky?”

Yes, Steve.

“Activate Aries if she moves a single inch from her spot.” He eyed you at the end of his command and sauntered away to god-knows-where.

You hoped it wouldn’t be pushing your luck to stand up and stretch, so you did. You mentally considered the various stretches you did as a child, during gymnastics. It had been years since you recalled those, so you did them to the best of your ability. It’s funny how life works. One day you were among a row of girls, learning how to do a cartwheel and before you know it, you’re in a psycho’s mansion as a lab experiment.

About 30 feet away from this pedestal was Aries.

Cautiously, you took a few steps away from your place. No reaction from Aries. That meant ‘Bucky’ and Aries weren’t the same thing. You could also deduce from Steve’s command, Bucky was capable of conversing.

Do not take another step forward, Subject 10. I have been told to inflict pain if you move from your position.

You took another step anyway, wondering how much you could test the limits of this A.I.

Do not take another step forward, Subject 10. I have been told to inflict pain if you move from your position.

You considered making a run for it but reconsidered. Aries would activate in less than 5 seconds and Steve was still in the house somewhere. You needed to play this better. Besides, you didn’t even have an exit point.

You went back to your pedestal and sat down, drawing patterns on the ground with your feet. It would help to know the time or date. A part of you wondered if anyone was looking for you, but you yourself had answered that question long ago. No one looks for people like you or me.

It could’ve been hours or minutes, but finally, Steve called you into a different room. You observed your environment as you stalked towards the kitchen area where the inventor was seated.

“Sit,” he motioned at the chair that was on the other end of the table.

As soon as you sat, tiny robots flew to your seat and placed food in front of you. It was some sort of soup with a side of bread, the only utensil he gave you being a spoon. Smart bastard.

You wanted to hold off on the food; you really did. But you didn’t even get to eat the sandwich that you were putting together before the kidnapping. So you began devouring the meal, ignoring his pointed stare at your lack of table manners. It was only when you were halfway through the meal did you realize that the food may be drugged. Too late now.

“You killed my only other test subject and rendered her data useless.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

Steve dropped his steak knife and fork, shooting daggers into your eyes.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he began. Clasping his hands together, he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his elbows. You could tell by the way he talked that he was used to getting what he wanted. He relished in it.

“Every day, for the next two weeks, I’m going to leave for work. And every day, you’re going to complete the puzzles and tasks that Bucky tells you to do.”

“And if I don’t?”

“It won’t take me more than 10 minutes to kill you, clean up the mess and dispose of your body.”

“If you could kill me, you probably would’ve. I know you considered it,” you remarked, leaning back into your chair and folding your arms.

“Now, why would I waste a perfectly good test subject?” It was his turn to mimic your body language.

“If you want me to do what you need me to do, I need three things,” you announced.

“It’s funny how you think you have any leverage in this situation.”

You kept your face stoic, trying to prove that you were serious about the negotiations. If he didn’t allow you these requests, you would never escape.

“Okay, go on,” he said, clearly amused.

“I need clothes. Regular clothes, not prisoner uniforms. I need to shower. And I need proper food, like what you’re eating.”

“That’s quite the list.” he laughed. Abruptly, his features turned serious. “I hope you know that you don’t hold any cards against me right now, and if I allow any of those things, it’s out of the kindness of my heart.”

It was your turn to laugh. “The kindness of your heart,” you wheezed between laughs. “Sure, okay. Yeah.”

He swallowed the last piece of his meal and gestured towards the sofas.

“Bucky will be guarding you throughout the night. Don’t think of trying anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you beamed at his sour expression right before leaving the table.

Masterlist

#dark! steve rogers #dark mcu #Dark Fic #dark marvel #dark!steve #dark!steve x you #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky fic #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky x y/n

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bokutosworld · 3 years

Text

i won’t say (i’m in love) | kageyama t.

pairing: kageyama tobio x gn!reader

wc: 1,935 words. fluff, high school crushes. hinata being a wingman lol.

summary: an encounter at kageyama’s favorite spot in school leads him to meet someone that makes him feel all sorts of confusing feelings.

a/n: so if it’s not yet obvious by the title, this was inspired by the song from hercules, i won’t say i’m in love :D this idea has been on my drafts for quite some time and i finally had the chance to work on it yaaay

The first time Kageyama saw you, you were in front of the vending machine he frequented.

It was lunch break, and with ten minutes left before the next period, he figured he could get his favorite banana milk. He was walking towards the area that hid the machine away from prying and hungry eyes. Kageyama was confident that no one was familiar with its spot, especially since the machine always seemed to never go out of stock of his go-to drinks. But boy was he wrong.

The instant that he rounded the corner, he heard the recognizable thud of the drink box falling and someone getting it from its confines. He took a peek and saw a glimpse of a student cheerfully sticking the straw to the pack, humming as they take a sip of the milk. With a contented smile, the student walks off and passes him, giving a side glance and showing off a smirk to Kageyama.

How odd, the setter thought. Though he didn't dwell on it for any much longer, opting to get his own share of the milk. However, when he stood in front of the machine, his heart lurched upon seeing the red light that indicated not available. Kageyama's eyes shoot wide open and he whipped his head towards the direction you went, sending a glare to your retreating back as he realized you took the last milk. Oh, he was furious and poor Hinata was on the receiving end of that sour mood for the rest of the day.

Since that unfateful encounter, Kageyama has been noticing your presence everywhere. And it was an understatement to say that he didn't find you annoying. He remembers how you went under his nose to grab that last box of milk and it still infuriates him.

Whenever you walk by in the hallways, he can't help but follow you with a pointed look on his face. To any outsider, Kageyama looked as if he was sending curses towards your way, at least that was what Hinata thought. But actually, the setter was trying to figure out who you were and why he hadn't seen you in the campus before that day. One day, his curiosity finally got the best of him and he asked Hinata about his concern.

"Huh? What do you mean you don't know Y/N," the orange-haired boy replied. Hinata gave his friend a puzzled look, and as if the cogs in his mind stopped turning, a teasing grin made it way to his face. "Ah, so that's why you've been looking at them like a madman recently. You're so dumb, Kageyama! How could you not recognize them, they're literally our class president."

Hinata was right. That time, Kageyama was dumbfounded when they returned to the classroom and saw you chatting with your friends in the corner. He was entranced by you and the way you were laughing at one of the jokes that he hit his hip in the sharp edge of the desk. He shrieked, causing you to turn your head towards him with worry cast over your face.

It didn't hurt that bad. He was massaging that spot on his hip when you silently stalked towards him. You stood by his side, placing a hand on his back and asking if he was okay. It took all of Kageyama's willpower not to lose his composure in front of you, but Hinata caught on his actions. In that moment, an idea popped up in Shoyo's mind.

"Hey, Pres," he put an arm around Kageyama's shoulders, wiggling his eyebrows at him. "Can I ask you a favor? Can you bring my friend here to the clinic and get his injury checked out? I'm sure it's only minor but we can't be too sure." Kageyama angrily nudged Hinata, a string of stupid, you idiot falling on his lips.

"Yeah, no problem. Come on, Kageyama, let's get you to the nurse."

He was immediately flustered. Kageyama swears his face has never felt that hot when you took his shoulders and wrapped them on your own, acting as his crutch as the two of you walked to the clinic.

Kageyama cleared his throat, his eyes looking at anywhere but you. "H-hey, I'm not completely paralyzed. I can walk on my own."

You laughed, "It's fine. You can rely on me sometimes, you know. Besides, I don't want our star player sitting out of the games." A moment of silence clouds over the two of you on the rest of the way, but just before entering the clinic, you say, "I know you love volleyball. You should enjoy it without any injury."

Kageyama thinks that maybe you were much more than a milk thief after all.

Hinata doesn't know what happened after he sent you and Kageyama to the clinic. But he has a slight idea about what changed when he sees that his teammate has been talking more to you at every chance that he gets, walking by your desk and starting up conversations when he can.

In mornings, he notices that Kageyama always has two packs of milk in hand. And when you enter the room, he sees how he lights up, a shy smile forming on his face as you wave a hand and walk to his desk. He couldn't believe his own eyes when he watches Kageyama give you the other milk and he comes to a conclusion that he bought it just for you.

In gym class, Hinata observes the way Kageyama is extra pumped up to be against you in the 100m dash activity. He sees the playful taunts he sends your way and how you gladly react to them and indulge Kageyama in his competitiveness. He honestly thinks Kageyama won't let you off the hook but he's shocked, when just a few centimeters away from the finish line, he fakes a trip and falls down on the ground. You pass him in high spirits, jumping up and down as you exclaim that you won against the King of the Court. And Hinata knows that the normal Kageyama would be pouting and pissed off at his loss.

But this wasn't a normal Kageyama. He figures that this was a Kageyama in love.

The pair was assigned to set up the net and prepare the gym before practice started. They were in the storage room getting the equipment when Hinata started teasing Kageyama about his little crush.

"I don't know what you are talking about." The taller boy strongly denied all the accusations that Hinata was throwing at him. "Just shut up and help me here."

Hinata chuckled like an evil villain and continued to spew obvious facts. "You give them milk every morning. You unconsciously make them laugh with your not so funny jokes. You look out for them during gym class more than their friends does. You make time before practice to say goodbye before they go home."

"So, what is your point?"

His friend smirked, "Kageyama Tobio, you have a crush."

Kageyama stood frozen, his hands went limp by his sides at the sudden realization. He was aware that in his recent interactions with you, he'd sometimes feel sick, like he'd get nervous around you, his breathing becomes unstable and his palms get sweaty. He has noticed it himself how the surroundings would turn brighter whenever you walked in the hallways or how his own heart would beat twice as fast whenever you were approaching him in his desk.

He didn't know what that feeling was called. He didn't want to give it a name. But Hinata just had to point it out. Frustrated that his friend called him out on his adoration for you, Kageyama stayed silent and started playfully punching Hinata. The poor boy was only saved when they heard footsteps come in, and Kageyama was quick to push Hinata away and avoid your gaze when you walked in.

Hinata was grumbling as he walked out of the scene, leaving you two some time to figure out your mutual feelings.

Kageyama immediately crouched down and hid his face on his hands, making you laugh at his awkwardness. He inquired in a muffled voice, "How much of that did you hear?"

You answered him truthfully, narrating the moment when you stopped to hide behind the doors was when you heard Hinata starting to tease him about his little crush. "I'm honestly flattered, Kageyama. Though I am also surprised that Hinata was watching us closely. Or should I be creeped out?"

He glanced up at you, standing from his position and going off on a tangent about how he also thought that Hinata was looking into things too much. He complained that instead of thinking about his love life, Hinata could've used that time to practice his spikes and jumps.

At this point, Kageyama was rambling and though you thought it was endearing, you needed him to pause and breathe. "Can you stop talking for literally ten seconds?" This seemed to work as he shut up and straightened his back, his eyes gazing straight into yours.

Kageyama realized, "Why are you here anyway?"

You smiled and brought out something from your pocket. "I wanted to give this to you." It was the banana milk that he loves. "I saw that it was the last one in the vending machine. I figured you'd want to have it. Have a drink before or after practice."

You thought it wasn't humanly possible to see eyes literally sparkling, but Kageyama was giving you proof of that as he excitedly took the drink from your hands. The corners of his mouth turned upward in a soft smile, and you thought that was the prettiest that he has ever been. He remembers the moment he first saw you and laughs, "You didn't have any problems before taking the last available milk for yourself."

It was your turn to get shocked, hiding a blush behind your palms. You also recall that incident, "Stop, I didn't do that on purpose. Was it my fault that they haven't restocked on that day?”

Kageyama scoffed, "Yeah, right." You pouted, crossing your ams on your chest as you looked away from him. "Thank you."

He has put the straw in the opening of the pack, taking a sip of the milk when you asked him for the second time. "So, you like me, huh?" Kageyama almost choked on his drink, and you laughed before patting his back to help him calm down. Some liquid were spilling from his lips and you were quick to wipe it with your hand. The action was enough to render Kageyama speechless, so he put some distance between the two of you.

You were taking some tissue from your bag to give to Kageyama when you also shared a confession of your own. "If it makes you feel any better, I like you too."

"I'm free this weekend. If you want to take me out a date, you know my number." He looked at you expectantly, the words yes, I'd love to go out with you resting on the tips of his tongue but he wasn't able to let it out. Because in a few seconds, you boldly took a step closer and pressed your lips to his cheek. His face felt warm and his heart was beating like crazy.

"I'll be expecting your call, Tobio."

In that moment, the feelings that he kept on a tightly closed lid were overflowing and it was the affirmation that he needed to know that he was already in too deep for you.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #kageyama x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuucreations #kageyama fluff #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fics #hq x reader #hq x you #hq imagines #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu!!

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kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

Text

Recovery [Ezra (Prospect) x Fem!Reader]

A/N: Hello all! This is my first Pedro Pascal work and the first to be posted here to this blog. If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to send them my way! As always, please read the tags/warnings, you are responsible for the media you choose to consume. Also posted to AO3 under the same username (kingofkingdom). I did not use “y/n” or anything similar in this story.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You were taken from your younger sister, Cee, ten years ago. When you answered a distress call from the Green, you didn’t expect to be reunited with her, and you certainly didn’t expect to meet a man like Ezra.

Warnings: mention of past violence/death, discussion of medical procedure, discussion of disability (amputation/loss of limb), family dynamics, abstract discussion of philosophy, small SW universe cameo :)

Tags: considerable amounts of fluff, size kink, daddy kink, hint of dd/lg, copious use of various pet names, p-in-v sex, some breast play/worship, some dom!ezra & sub!reader

Word count: 9552

You hadn't seen Cee since your mother died.

Her father had taken her and left you in the care of your aunt, a woman you didn't know, a woman who jumped at the chance to send you off to boarding school on the Ephrate the moment you were old enough. Most of your memories consisted of your host family there, with a younger "sister" who reminded you all too much of the one you had lost. In your mind, Cee was still a toddler, all wispy blonde hair and big blue eyes.

Cee's father had never liked you. You were the evidence of his wife's life before him, and you looked too much like your own deceased father for him to have any affection toward you. It didn't surprise you that he left you behind after your mother died, but at ten that didn't make it hurt any less.

Since then, ten years had passed. Now, your aunt was gone, and your studies on the Ephrate completed. You'd taken to a rather nomadic lifestyle, catching rides from planet to station to planet and picking up odd jobs here and there. It wasn't much, but you'd become a strong woman in your time on your own, and thoughts of your half-sister plagued you only some nights now.

Jobs you took ranged from helping the lone-wolf prospector on an excavation to ship repairs at major stations across the system. In one of your darker moments, you'd even carried out a hit against some low-level merc who'd pissed off the wrong people. Those people paid well, enough to fill your stomach for a few days and cover a ride far away from that moon. The right circles knew you could hold your own, and that's what mattered.

This particular station was on the outskirts of the system, a rough-and-tumble place frequented only by prospectors and the people that paid them. You'd taken a shift at the bar here a few weeks ago, and knew the locals pretty well. In a spot like this, people could often get more information at your humble establishment than they could from the officials. You were lying low, and you itched to get moving again, like the nomad you were.

Hence why you kept the radio channels on all the time during your shifts, quiet and unobtrusive where you stood at the bar.

You were thankful, looking back, that it had been a quiet afternoon, and that you'd been so vigilant in keeping track of job openings.

"This is Kilo-Romeo 12, calling from Green sector 608. In need of assistance pronto, rapid extraction A.S.A.P."

The voice is faint, but frantic - a masculine growl laced with an edge of panic. Your radio isn't the best, and you don't recognize the prospector's callsign, but you know he must be in deep shit. A call like this from the Green is a death sentence if someone doesn't act quickly.

As with most of your decisions, you act entirely on impulse. As you hit the button to close up the bar's doors, the radio is already in your hands.

"This is Juno B-390, responding to Kilo-Romeo 12. Do you copy?"

You're down the hall by now, rushing to your quarters to collect your meager belongings. Everything fits in a single pack, and you're just pulling your helmet onto your head when the radio crackles to life again.

"I copy, Juno B-390," the relief is evident in his voice, even through the static. "We need extraction and medical care."

Well, that wasn't in the initial signal. "We? How many are with you? And what kind of medical care are we talkin' here?"

"Just me and one other. Deep trauma to the abdomen, I'm afraid."

You swear under your breath. Nothing you can't handle, but this guy's timer's really running out. You grab the necessary supplies and dash to your small pod racer, which is just big enough with its three seats.

"Hang on, Kilo-Romeo. I'll be there as soon as I'm able. You'll need to direct me to your exact location, is that clear?"

There's a moment of silence before his voice echoes through your racer one last time.

"Clear."

You descend upon the Green as fast as the forces of physics and gravity allow you to. Sector 608, as it says on your map, is a stretch of deep woods and rolling terrain, nearly unexplored save for the last rush. You slow up as you approach, and call out to the prospector over the radio once again.

"Kilo-Romeo 12, this is Juno B-390. I am approaching your location. Do you copy?"

It's quiet. Much too quiet. You slow the racer even more, as your heart begins to race. Just as you begin to worry that you're too late, the radio awakens.

It's not the man, however, whose voice you hear.

"This is Ez-- I mean, this is Kilo-Romeo's... uh... companion. He's gotten worse."

It's a girl. A young teen, from the sound of it. Your heart clenches, thinking of how scared she must be out there.

"Okay, hey there. It's gonna be okay. Can you tell me what landmarks you see? Help me find you."

"Um, yeah. We're in a clearing, there's another ship right nearby. It's not operational, which is wh-- uh, yeah. Clearing, big ship. Also sort of a gulley nearby."

You're about to respond when she speaks again.

"Please, hurry."

"I will, kid. Just keep him alive."

It takes you longer than you would've liked to find this clearing, but once you do you see a scene that brings more questions than answers. Dead bodies litter the field and a half-blown excavation site sits in ruins. Discretion's always been a virtue of yours, though, so you file the information away in your brain and swiftly land your craft. As soon as you exit, you hear the girl's voice not too far away.

"Here! We're over here!"

You grab the field kit and run over to where she stands over a slumped figure. The man you'd spoken to is now unconscious, and not only does he have a nasty looking wound in his chest, he's missing an arm. You look up at the girl. Her brows are furrowed, eyes like steel. You like her already.

"Go to the racer and grab the stretcher that's behind the passenger seat. We'll have to move him onto that and carry him over."

She nods and runs off. Immediately, you turn to the man and take stock of his injuries. The arm has been gone for at least a little while, so that's not of immediate concern. You set to treating the chest wound, making sure to purge it and his suit of dust. Nasty stuff, that which floats around this planet. His filter is as good as gone, so you quickly connect your own.

You drain the wound with the juice the locals here produce, which is generally in stock in the station's field kits. It smells rank, but it works, and the man below you groans. Good, he's still vocal, at least. It doesn't sound like a lung's been punctured. You set up a highly temporary pocket over his wound and torn suit through which you can patch the injury. You take some foaming antiseptic and apply it to the wound before adhering a sticky bio-bandage over the top of it.

It'll do for now. He'll need further treatment at the station, but this should keep him alive, at least.

The girl returns with the stretcher then, and places it next to the man. You glance up at her, and see momentarily a young version of yourself. Eager to help. Eager to make things right.

You shake your head, collecting your thoughts. "Okay, so I'm going to tilt his body towards me, and you slide the stretcher as far as you can under him. Then we'll let him down on top of it and secure him for travel. Can you do that?"

She nods, and you give her a small smile. You hook one arm around the man's waist, the other supporting his neck and shoulder.

"On three, okay? One... two... three!"

Quickly, you roll him up onto his remaining arm as she slides the stretcher under him. As gently as possible, you let him back down, and just like that he's mostly on the stretcher. You set to arranging him properly and tying straps down.

The girl fidgets, and you look up to her.

"Do you know how to stow the back seat in a racer like that?" you ask, and she nods.

"Good, go do it."

She runs off, and is back by the time you've gotten the man secured to the stretcher.

"You take the handles at his feet and I'll take his head. We have to be careful not to tilt him too much, to keep the weight on the stretcher even. Did he suffer any head trauma?"

The girl shakes her head. "No, I don't think so."

You probably should have asked that before moving him onto the stretcher, but then again no one's ever known you for your excellence in trauma care. Your knowledge of first aid comes only from what you've picked up in the field, so sometimes the order of operations gets a bit jumbled.

Whatever. He'll be okay. You can't let yourself think otherwise.

The girl stoops to grab hold of the handles at his feet. You do the same at his head, and again you count backwards from three.

"Up!"

Together you stand, and twin groans echo from both of you. The girl huffs, clearly struggling a bit under the weight.

"Okay, let's go. Slowly, remember."

You walk backwards, feet taking cautious steps so as to keep the same pace as the young girl. Her face is screwed up in focus and concentration, hands in a vice grip on the handles.

"You're doing good, kid. Just a bit further."

Before you know it, you've reached the ship. Carefully, you set the stretcher in the racer, and then the two of you slide it in. There's just barely enough room for it. You quickly secure it, and then close the hatch.

The girl is looking at you, eyes wide and chest heaving. You reach out a gloved hand and set it on her shoulder, giving a firm squeeze.

"He'll be okay. I promise. Now go get in the passenger seat and I'll get us back up to the station."

She nods, and seems to relax a bit at that. You can't help but wonder what she's been through, out here in this rough, unforgiving environment. "Thank you."

You smile, and sincerely hope that this young girl finds a way to leave this life of prospecting behind. You don't know how she got here, but it's no place for someone so young. You know that all too well.

"Let's go, kid."

The trip was pretty quiet save for a single groan from the man in back. The girl glanced back to him when she heard that, and then looked at you, concerned.

"It's okay. He'll be in and out of consciousness until we get to the station. I'll pull up to the emergency med-bay so the doctors can start treating him properly right away."

You look over to her, and she nods.

"Does he have anyone they can contact? Any family?" you ask. "The doctors will need to know."

She shakes her head. "I'm not sure. I don't think so."

You sigh. "Okay. Well, we'll deal with that when we get there."

It's not long after that you arrive at the med-bay. It's a whirlwind of nurses and questions and forms, most of which you have to leave blank, since you don't know the guy and the girl seems not to know much more. She does, however, give you a name.

"His name's Ezra," she offers, when she sees you pause at the line on the top of the screen.

You look over at her. "Ezra? Spelled E-Z-R-A?"

She nods. "Never told me a last name though."

"That's alright. A first name's enough."

She sits next to you and helps where she can as you fill out the form. Once you're done, you go up to hand the tablet back to the receptionist. You then sit back down next to her, crossing your arms over your flight suit. The girl's fiddling with her fingers, bag tucked between her feet.

"Do you think we'll be able to see him when they're done?" she asks, clearly trying not to sound as worried as she is.

You shrug. "Probably. It might be a while, though. Do you want something to eat while we wait?"

She nods, and when you look over at her, she's smiling.

As it turns out, it does take a pretty long time for them to complete the operation. It feels like hours that you two are sitting there. You watch the people come and go from the waiting room while the girl writes in some notebook, headphones secure over her ears, absently eating a chocolate bar.

She can't be more than 13 or 14. You think back to when you were that age - in the middle of your time at the Ephrate, moody and angsty like all young teens. It makes you think of Cee. She'd be about that age by now. You look over to the girl sitting next to you, wondering what ever became of your sister. Maybe she's at the Ephrate by now, or perhaps her father has taken her to some peaceful planet with beaches and a nice home, a few pets running around.

Hopefully a better life than the one you've led. Somewhere far from thrower blasts and gemstones.

This girl seems nice enough, and you're sure she's seen her fair share of shit. It's clear this guy's not only not her father, but that they haven't known each other long at all. You can't help but wonder how they ended up traveling together.

Images of the clearing littered with bodies flashes in your mind. Something went down there, and it clearly got ugly fast. It's amazing that the girl emerged relatively unscathed. You've seen a fair share of shootouts and fights, and never did you escape completely uninjured. It takes cleverness and a strong sense of self-preservation, the latter of which you don't often have.

You're ruminating on the mystery sitting next to you when the doors to the operating rooms swing open. A nurse steps out and looks at both of you. You stand, and she follows suit.

"He's awake, and asking for you," the nurse says. You nudge the girl slightly with your elbow.

"Go on, go see hi--"

The nurse cuts in. "He's asking for both of you."

Oh. You're surprised. He doesn't even know you, so there's no reason he should be asking to see you. Despite your confusion, you follow behind the girl as she follows the nurse to his room.

The hallways are sterile and white, cleaner than anything you've seen in months. The doorway is the last on the right, and inside is a single bed, with a small window looking out to the stars.

The young girl enters first as the nurse stands to the side, and you hover in the doorway to watch, still not quite feeling entirely welcome. You can just see the man's - Ezra's - hair behind the girl, with an unusual shock of blonde in otherwise dark brown curls.

"I was wondering where you went, birdie. One minute I was on the ground and next thing I know I'm sitting here like a babe in a bassinet, right as rain," he says, voice melodic with an accent you can't quite place.

"Do you feel better, Ezra?" the girl asks, voice wavering just slightly.

"I do. Are you faring alright yourself?"

She nods, and crosses her arms. Silence fills the room for a moment, then Ezra speaks again.

"Who was so kind as to bring us here, birdie?" he asks. The girl turns to you and steps aside so Ezra can see you.

"She did," she replies, a soft look on her face.

You step forward and look at Ezra properly for the first time. You hadn't really paid much attention to his facial features back on the Green, so concerned as you were with getting him out of there.

His dark brown eyes are kind, and his lips tease at a smile. He's got stubble growing on his chin and a mustache on his lip. There's a thin white line in the shape of a crescent underneath his left eye, the silvery remnant of a deep cut sustained long ago. He's older than you, maybe 40 or so. For some reason, you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, but you're quick to snuff those out best you can. Mirroring the girl, you cross your arms, and flip your braid over your shoulder.

"Yeah, that would be me," you say, as nonchalantly as you can manage.

"I recognize that voice from the radio," he notes, looking at you intently. "I can't hardly give you enough thanks for getting the two of us out of that... sticky situation. You really are somethin' else, sugar."

You shrug, unused to such praise, such immediate kindness. You feel your face heat up with a blush, and you clear your throat.

"Well, it sure sounded like you were in need of some help. I'm happy to see you're doing better."

Your voice is softer than you intend. Spending even three minutes with this guy seems to have thrown you off balance. You haven't met anyone that talks like him since you were in school, and it's like a breath of fresh air.

His face turns serious at your words. Ezra's gaze is as intense as it is gentle, burning into your own.

"Oh, much better," he assures you, giving you a look you can't quite decipher. A smile quickly returns to his features. "It's a shame they couldn't get my arm to grow back."

You laugh a little at that, happy to see that he's in good spirits. The nurse steps forward then, tablet in hand. The three of you turn to her.

"Ezra will likely be discharged tomorrow morning, given how much progress he's made just today. He will need somewhere to rest, however, for the next week or so. We can help to make boarding arrangeme--"

"No," you interrupt, surprising even yourself. "No, he can stay with me. I have quarters in the 4th wing." You turn to the girl. "You can stay with me too, if you'd like." You don't know what's come over yourself, but you find yourself drawn to this unlikely pair.

The girl nods once, just as Ezra speaks up. "You're too kind, sugar. Your hospitality and generosity are appreciated beyond measure. Do let us know if there's any way at all we can show our gratitude."

You shake your head immediately, waving a hand as if to wave away the notion.

"No need for that. Consider it a celebratory gift for parting with the Green."

Everyone laughs at that - even the nurse, who hides her grin behind her tablet.

The next morning, you and the girl - whose name you still don't know, and who still does not know yours - visit the med-bay first thing after breakfast. Your quarters are small, enough to fit two comfortably and three at most. The girl has decided to take the sofa, since Ezra will need to rest, and a bed is most ideal for that. It seems you both tend to rise early, so you gave her some oatmeal and a cup of coffee. She took both without hesitation, and it warmed your heart to see her eat after however long she and Ezra had been out there.

When you two arrive, Ezra is waiting in his room, dressed in clean loungewear with a bag on his lap. He is seated in a wheelchair. You and the girl greet him, happy to see that he is rested and ready to leave.

"I told the kind folks that I am more than able to walk unaided," he comments when you begin to push the chair from behind. "They insisted, however, and I am not one to ignore the advice and orders of my physicians."

You see the girl try to hide a smile. It seems as though he's grown on her, and she struggles to admit that to herself. Before you can think better of it, you give Ezra a pat on the right shoulder, a small attempt at reassurance.

"You'll be walking in no time, I'm sure," you reply.

You feel his left hand cover your own, and you nearly stumble as you push him along through the hallway. His palm is rough and callused, a signature trait of most prospectors. It's large, too, covering your own entirely. Its warmth soaks through the back of your hand and into your stomach.

"With kindness as bright as yours to guide me, that will certainly be the case."

You don't know what to say to that, so you give his shoulder a squeeze and retract your hand.

The 4th wing is not too far from the med-bay; the station itself is smaller than most, so the distance is blessedly short. Ezra does most of the talking while the three of you walk.

"It would suit me just perfectly to never see that god-forsaken moon again so long as I live," he comments just as you reach the door to your quarters. You scan your ID card and the panel slides open, revealing a small but comfortable dwelling. "Forget the gems, forget the money. Prospecting is surely the most foolish endeavor of them all."

"The lust for wealth is stronger than the fear of death," you reply, almost without thinking.

Ezra looks up at you, smiling, a curious look on his face. "Asmolea. Ruminations, chapter seven. Color me impressed, sugar."

You look back, equally surprised. "You recognize that quote?"

"Why, yes, in fact, I do," he responds, and you notice the girl watching the two of you out of the corner of your eye. "I was an admirer of the great thinkers, long ago. When I was younger, and more -- well, more curious about such things, I suppose."

You wheel him into the small sitting area, arranged around a holo-screen. The walls are bare, lack of personality belying a short-lived residence here. You engage the wheelchair's brakes and take a seat yourself, across from him on an armchair. The girl sits on the sofa, where she slept last night.

"Philosophy is the sustenance of the mind," he continues, kicking his feet up to rest on the coffee table. He winces slightly at the motion, but keeps speaking nevertheless. "Without it, we decay. We risk succumbing to trivial errors of man. It is the sharpening stone to the blade of our intellect."

"What about literature?" the girl asks, her eyes firey and brow set. "I think that's much more valuable than what some ancient guy thought about a world we don't even know anymore."

You smile, pleased at this contribution. "I think great literature can convey philosophical ideas in the form of a modern narrative. You just have to keep an eye out for it, and understand its relevance to the story."

Ezra nods along. "I agree. Where did you read Asmolea, sugar?"

"At the Ephrate," you reply, and you see the girl perk up. You smile at her, hoping the two of you will have a chance to discuss that later. She seems entirely intrigued by you now. "I studied there for seven years, until I was eighteen."

"Why did you leave?" the girl asks.

You sigh, and bring your foot up to rest on the chair, so your thigh is pressed against your front. "Life there didn't suit me. I'm much happier on my own, not surrounded by stuffy academics and pretentious businessmen. The only ones I could stand there were the monks."

Ezra laughs at that. "The Neo-Carthusians?"

You nod, grinning. "Yeah. Considered joining, for about a month or so. I admire their lives of solitude and contemplation, but I couldn't imagine staying in one place for so long."

The conversation flows between the three of you so naturally you hardly notice the time flying by. They ask questions about you, and you return the favor by inquiring about their lives. The girl is quiet when it comes to her past, but you find out her father died on the Green. Both she and Ezra are hesitant to talk about it, which tells you all that you need to know.

Night falls quickly, or at least night according to standard time - on the station, there is no night or day, just a constant darkness visible out the windows interrupted by pinpricks of light. Everyone follows the standard clock, which runs according to time on the Ephrate.

You show Ezra to his room after the three of you have eaten dinner. It's a small space, just enough for a bed and a dresser. Carefully, he stands from the wheelchair, tosses his bag on the bed, and turns to look at you.

He's much taller than you are. The butterflies return as you look up at him, and a warm feeling radiates through the area below your stomach.

"Thank you again for the hospitality, sugar," he murmurs, voice low and deep. He moves the wheelchair out from between you, so there's nothing but air separating the two of you. "As I said, don't hesitate to ask if there is anything I can do to repay you. Anything at all."

You nod, at a loss for words. His hand comes up and gently brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. You positively melt. This man is going to be the death of you.

"I'm just glad to see you safe, Ezra," you reply, and your eyes flutter at the way his fingers linger over the apple of your cheek. His lips look so soft, his eyes full of promises he intends to keep. You can feel yourself falling, as if in a dream.

You blink and lean back, away from him. This is a bad idea. For what reason, you can't say, but you dart to your room as soon as you begin to doubt yourself.

You shut the door and lean against it. There's no way, your mind whispers to you. He feels indebted. That's the only reason. You're too young, he just sees you as a kid.

In your haste, you didn't see the look in his eyes as you left so suddenly, or the way he stared at the door long after you shut it.

In the night, you dream of him. Dark eyes above you, heavenly, filthy moans filling the air around you, something thick and perfect filling the empty space inside you. His musical voice murmurs sweet words in your ear, and you hear the sound of your passion just as much as you feel it. Your hands grip his hair as he thrusts, your body trembling underneath him.

Your peak startles you awake, and you find your bedsheets soaked with the evidence of your fantasy.

Your bedside clock tells you it is the early hours of the morning. With a sigh, you toss back the blankets and emerge from your room quietly.

After a quick shower in the refresher, you step out and wrap a towel around yourself. You stare into the mirror, thinking about him.

You've never felt such an instant attraction to anyone before in your life. Sure, his looks contribute quite a bit, but it's much more than that. You and he seem to have a similar intellect, his passion and aptitude for prose matching your own knowledge and understanding of philosophy and the humanities. The girl is also equally respected by him as she is by you, and you both share a common want to see her thrive. You've known them both barely a day and a half, but they already feel more like family than anyone you've ever known.

You wonder if you're imagining his affections toward you. That could just be him, his way of communicating. You desperately hope it's more than that, but you also can't get your hopes up because of a silly dream.

A silly, beautiful dream.

Water drips from your hair, down your chest, and into the towel. As you begin to shiver, you decide to return to bed and try again for some uninterrupted sleep. You'll have to change the sheets, unfortunately, but that shouldn't take more than a few minutes.

You open the door and tiptoe back out into the hallway, quiet as a mouse. Just as you're about to sneak back into your room, towel clutched tightly in your fingers, you're startled by the door opposite your own sliding open.

And there he is. Dressed in little more than a pair of grey shorts, hair tousled and eyes weary with sleep.

He blinks a few times, and then his eyes widen, suddenly much more awake. You see him glance down, and his mouth parts ever so slightly before his gaze returns to your face.

You are frozen in place. Somewhere in your mind, you will your feet to dart away again, but the remnants of your dream still echo in your muscles, preventing you from leaving. Your hands tighten on your towel and despite yourself, you make note of his chest, his abdomen - the wound, which is an angry red line, held together with clear stitching, and which makes your heart clench at the thought of what would've happened had you not arrived - and finally, a rapid glance at his shorts, his thighs, before you find your sense and look back up at his face.

There's that intensity again, with considerably less gentleness. You inhale sharply, and spare a glance towards the sitting area, where the girl sleeps.

"She's quite the light sleeper, I'm afraid. I'd be mightily surprised if she didn't already hear --"

His voice is low, nearly inaudible to your ears as you look back at him. The tone of it causes the insides of your thighs to tremble, and your chest to heave with silent breaths. Ezra cuts himself off, clearly not having meant to say as much as he did.

Maybe it's the early hour that makes the words escape your lips with ease. Maybe it's the dream, the visions of which you can still see in your mind's eye as you look at him. Perhaps there's just something about Ezra that makes you bold, standing there with nothing more than thin terrycloth protecting your modesty.

"Hear what, Ezra?" you whisper, and set your jaw when his eyes widen ever so slightly.

Ezra reaches out, and his hand comes up to grip the back of your neck. His thumb strokes your jawline, behind your ear, and he steps forward. He's so close that you can feel the heat from his body on your own.

His lips press softly against your forehead, a surprisingly intimate gesture that makes you shiver. The hand that isn't clutching your towel moves to rest on his waist, golden skin warm under your cold fingers.

"Hear this, sweet thing," he murmurs against your skin, lips still pressed against you. "How strongly I feel for you. How deeply I know that it was divine providence that brought you to me. The ways I want to repay you for saving my life.”

His words are like molten gold, shimmering and hot as they slip over your skin and into your heart. You shiver, and your fingers curl gently into his side.

”I don’t - I don’t want you to feel obligated to... to do anything. With me. For me,” you whisper back, eyes closed, basking in the feeling of this quiet moment.

Ezra hums in dissent against your worries. “No... no...” he says, as his fingers slowly thread their way into your hair. “It isn't like that —“

He’s interrupted by a shuffling sound from the sitting room. You both freeze, wide-eyed, and look toward the room where the girl sleeps.

A moment passes, and then two. Enough that you know she is still asleep and there isn’t any risk of her finding you two like this.

It‘s like ice water thrown over you, the reminder of where and who you are. You look back up to Ezra, whose eyes are soft and knowing as they stare at you. His hand gently caresses the back of your neck, and then he brings it back to rest at his side.

"Go to bed, sweetheart," he murmurs, and then steps around you. He enters the refresher without another word.

You do as he says, but you find yourself struggling to fall back asleep once you return to clean, cool sheets. You watch the stars inch past outside your window as your mind races at the memory of his lips.

The next morning, you wake to sounds of movement coming from outside your door. For a moment you panic, before you remember your two visitors. And then you remember your encounter with one of those visitors last night, and the hushed words exchanged between you and him.

Beside you, the clock reads barely past 06:00, which is usually the time you wake up anyway. Today you have another shift at the bar, assuming you still have a job there after you ditched it the other day. With a groan, you pull yourself out from under the warm, soft covers and dress yourself.

The noise becomes more decipherable as you make your way down the hallway. Ezra and the girl are making small talk while something sizzles. You turn the corner and see Ezra standing at the stove with the girl sitting at the counter, the pleasing aromatic smell of pork bacon wafting through the air. You lean against the wall and watch the pair with a small smile, happy to see someone making use of a space normally reserved for microwave rations and alcohol snuck from the bar.

No one's ever accused you of being a particularly good bartender, that's for sure.

Ezra turns to look at you when he hears your footsteps, a bright smile lighting up his face.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he teases, and pushes the bacon around with a spatula. "I cannot emphasize enough how divine it was to wake up with a soft cushion beneath me rather than dirt. I could much too easily let myself get used to this, and I think Cee here agrees with me on that account. Don't you, birdie?"

The girl nods, but you don't notice it. The color has drained from your face and you feel a frantic, sinking feeling in your chest.

"What did you say?" you ask, pushing yourself off the wall and looking at Ezra with wide eyes.

He looks back, brow furrowed, confused. "I believe I said that I could get used to this...?"

You turn away from him and look at the girl. She's looking at you too, now, concern evident in her eyes.

"What did he say your name is?"

She blinks. "My name's Cee."

Your hand flies up to your mouth, and you feel tears gather at the corners of your eyes. It can't be. But she's the right age, and her hair's the same, and...

"What was your father's name?"

She looks even more confused now. "Um, it was Damon."

Oh my god. "Oh my god. You're Cee."

The two of them stare at you like you've grown a second head. You laugh, realizing how foolish you look.

And then you give her your name.

Cee's eyes light up like nothing you've ever seen before, and she nearly launches herself off of the counter stool to wrap you in the tightest hug you've ever been given. You laugh again, a loud and boisterous thing, as happy tears spring unbidden and flow onto your cheeks. Her hands grip the back of your shirt as you hold her head to your chest with both hands.

"I never thought I'd see you again," you mutter through the tears, pressing your nose against her hair. It's her. It's really her. Suddenly you think Ezra was right about divine providence, that the three of you were meant to find each other, the event arranged by some mighty cosmic force.

"Dad told me you were dead," she cries, as the two of you collapse to the floor. Propriety suddenly no longer concerns you, not now that you're cradling your long-lost little sister.

"I'm so sorry, Cee. I'm so sorry."

You can't say much more than that. There are simultaneously too many and not enough things to say to the last family you have left in the universe, to this girl who was so much like you even in the first moments of knowing one another.

Above you, Ezra clears his throat.

"While this is clearly an unexpected but happy reunion that I hate to interrupt, I do have to ask how you girls know one another, so that I might not be kept in the dark about your relation?"

You look up at him as you move backwards to rest your shoulders against the wall. His dark eyes look down at you from above, and though you've never felt so small, you've also never felt happier in your life.

"She's my sister," you answer with a smile. "Same mother, different father. We were separated when our mother died. She was hardly more than a baby."

Ezra's eyes grow soft at that, and he nods. You begin to think that maybe now you both have something to thank the other for. You may have saved his life, but his radio transmission brought you Cee.

You tighten your arms around her, and place a kiss on the crown of her head. You aren't sure how long you sit there - long enough to have surely lost your job when you don't show up for your shift, but you can't find it within yourself to care. This is all that matters to you right now.

The day passes with you and Cee doing most of the talking, for once. Ezra seems content to just sit and listen, though you catch him a few times looking at you like he did in the darkened hallway last night.

After lunch, he makes a point to sit next to you on the couch, arm draped across the cushions behind you.

If Cee notices, she doesn't say anything. You still aren't sure where your relationship with Ezra stands, but in the midst of sharing stories with Cee and learning about her life, you don't find time to sort that out.

Dinner comes and goes again, and the topic of the future comes up.

"When do you think you'll be healed enough to travel again, Ezra?" you ask, as the three of you work on cleaning the dishes.

He shrugs. "I'm fit to travel right now," he answers, and you give him a look. No, he isn't. He chuckles. "Alright, sugar. Maybe another day or so. The serum they gave me to apply daily has been working wonders, I must admit."

You nod, and look over at Cee. "Where do you want to go? The Ephrate? I have no doubt you could get into the school there."

She perks up at that. "You think so? Would you bring me?"

"Why not? I'm a traveler anyway, and I think it's high time I got out of this station. Ezra?" You look over to him, but he's already looking at you.

You feel his hand ghost over the small of your back. "I would be most honored to accompany you both to the Ephrate, if you'll have me."

"Yes, of course," you reply, leaning into his touch, and you turn back to the task at hand.

Later on, when Cee is in bed listening to her music, and Ezra's in his room, you sit on your bed thinking about what's to come. In order to apply to the school, Cee will need a guardian contact, and a record of education. You hope she can pass the entrance exam and submit a writing sample, and that that will be enough. Maybe you can talk some of your former professors into considering her.

It’s a pretty long trip from the station to the Ephrate, even with a ship that can travel at hyper speed. You can’t help but wonder what will become of Ezra after you get Cee set up in school.

The man captivates you, to put it plainly. His poetic manner of speaking and the gentle fire of his passion, when directed at you, gives you a feeling unlike any other you’ve experienced before. You’ve met plenty of men in your life. None have ever made you feel such a way.

Before you can think better of it, while the desire to see his sleep-ruffled hair still sits at the forefront of your mind, you get out of bed and leave your room. Quietly, so as to not disturb Cee, you knock on his door.

”Come in!” he calls out from somewhere within.

You slide the door open, slip inside, and close the door behind you. Ezra is sitting up in bed, looking at you.

”To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing such a beautiful woman enter my chamber in the night?” The question is teasing, good-natured, but the compliment still makes your stomach swoop.

You smile, and walk to where he lies in bed, leaning against the dresses. “I wanted to thank you, Ezra. You brought my sister back to me, which is something I’ll never be able to repay you for. Can we call it even?”

He laughs at that. “Sure we can, sweet thing. You know, when I first saw you in that recovery room, I thought I recognized you from somewhere, and that my brain had done me the disservice of erasing all memory of you. I now realize it was because you and Cee are so much alike. I haven’t known her for much longer than I’ve known you, and it remains a miracle that she has given me even a modicum of trust, but I see the relation between you clear as a bell now.”

You have to smile at that. It warms your heart to know you didn’t imagine it, that someone else noticed it too.

Ezra reaches out then, in the dim light, and you step forward. Thinking he's reaching for your hand, you extend yours - but he bypasses it completely and wraps his hand around the back of your upper thigh, thumb brushing against your sleep shorts. A giggle escapes your lips as he pulls you in even closer to him. Ezra leans forward and presses his face against your midsection, nose just next to your belly button.

Confused, but certainly pleasantly surprised, you place your hands on his head and thread your fingers through his dark curls. Gently you massage his scalp, not quite understanding this sudden show of affection. It's different than last night, though you can't exactly express how.

You decide you're really enjoying seeing these different sides of Ezra when the two of you are alone.

When you happen to massage a certain spot right behind his ear, Ezra groans, a low sound that ripples through your bones. His grip tightens, and you feel his next words more than you hear them.

"Come here, little one," he murmurs into your stomach, nosing at the hem of your shirt. The pet name makes you clench, desire flooding through your center.

He pulls you closer, shifting his face away so he can guide you down onto the bed. You swing one leg over his waist just as he slides his hand up to grip your ass, turning you further so you're on your back next to him. He's on his side, propped up by his elbow, leaning over you.

You're breathless, staring up into those infinite brown eyes.

"You have consumed my every waking thought since the moment I first saw you" he says softly, his voice a low purr that awakens some unknown part of yourself. You turn into him, resting a hand on his side, and he presses his nose against your cheek.

"I must have been a saint in a previous life to have earned this sweet embrace," he continues, breath warm against your face. "I want to learn you, to study you with the same vigor the ancients studied and examined the mind. I want to know you, sweet girl, in every way possible.

"But I must be truthful with you, because I could no longer live with myself if I were not. I am not a good man. I have lived a long life of violence and amorality, and death and deceit seem to follow me hand-in-hand. You are so young, little one, full of life and vitality, future bright ahead of you. I do not deserve you, and you certainly deserve better than me."

His words are like needles piercing your heart. You slide your hand up his chest to cup his face, tenderly stroking his cheekbone. You draw him away ever so slightly so you can look him in the eye.

"You and I are not so different, Ezra," you hum, making sure that he keeps the eye contact. "I have been on that same path, of death and violence, for years. I've lived for none but myself."

You slide your thumb across his lower lip, soft and pink and tempting.

"Let me live for you."

You punctuate your whispered plea by drawing him back down and pressing your lips to his. He gasps into the kiss before returning it with passion amplified twofold. His leg slides over your midsection to stabilize himself, knees pushing in between your own so your thighs stretch open around his.

Ezra deepens the kiss almost immediately. You surrender to his lips, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other tangles again in his hair. His mouth is hot, tasting faintly of mint but mostly a sweet flavor you attribute only to him. You let out a soft moan at the feeling building in your cunt, wet and warm and yearning for him, and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Ezra licks at your teeth, seemingly in an attempt to map out every part of you that he can.

All you're able to do is moan, melting into him like a candle to a flame.

You feel Ezra shift a little, followed by profanity muttered softly against your lips. He draws away, and you open your eyes to see him clenching his jaw.

"'M still not fully adjusted to not having a kriffing arm," he grumbles, frustration evident in his eyes. You hum, hurting for him, wanting to take his pain away.

"What do you need, Ezra?" you ask. "What can I do?"

He presses his forehead against yours and sighs. "I want to see you, sweet thing. I want to touch you."

You flush, understanding the meaning of his words and feeling your panties grow wetter at the implication.

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes." You push at his shoulders, urging him to sit back. He does so, sitting back. You rearrange your legs so that yours rest outside of his, and sit up. Your thighs are tucked against his hips in a position that feels much closer than before - you can just barely feel the heat of his groin against your own. A breath stumbles its way out of your lungs, chest heaving.

Before you can think any further on your insecurities, you grasp the hem of your shirt and draw it up and over your head. Ezra's eyes light up, glance at your face, darken considerably as he looks down again, and then he's on you once more.

His arm wraps around you tightly, hand pressing firmly into your ribs, and it's then that you really take in the size difference between you and him. As his head dips to press his lips against your breasts and nipples, you can't help but shudder at the way his body curls over your own. You feel distinctly small, in a way that would usually frighten you but instead makes you shiver.

This position is clearly more comfortable for Ezra, because he becomes more vocal as he lavishes your tits with attention.

"Gods, little one," he murmurs against the top of one of your breasts, tongue darting out to taste your peaked bud, "your body is divine, the sweetest fruit in the universe." He pauses to suck at your nipple, drawing it into his mouth, and the sight of it forces a whine from your throat. Something about it is so perfect, so perverse, for a man who's always been so sweet, that you can't help but press your clothed cunt down on his cock, the shape of which you can feel burning and hard like an iron through your clothes.

Ezra lets out a choked growl at that, a deep rumbling sound that you immediately commit to memory, in case of the unfortunate event that you're not blessed to ever hear it again. He releases your teat, now spit-soaked and throbbing, and looks at you with eyes so dark you hardly recognize them. His brows are drawn together, teeth bared like a feral animal.

"That's what you do to me," he growls, moving his hand down to cup your ass, squeezing harshly. You gasp, and press into him, bare chest to bare chest. "Feel my dick against your little pussy, baby? Think it can fit?"

You nod frantically, knowing your shorts are soaked through, as his filthy words send your mind reeling. You're not capable of thoughts beyond him and this any longer.

Ezra uses his grip on your ass to press your cunt against him once more, and he rolls his hips up into you in a mimicry of what he'd like to do you. You moan, completely unashamed, and drop your head to tuck your face against his shoulder.

"Please," you whine, nearly unaware of the words coming out of your mouth. It's quiet, hushed, this next utterance, and it's passed through your lips before you can think twice about it.

"Please fuck me, daddy."

Ezra freezes. It takes you a moment too long to realize what you've said.

"What did you say?" Ezra asks, the words rumbling from somewhere in his chest.

You get a frantic feeling in your limbs, panic crawling up your throat. Great, you think, I've messed it all up. He probably thinks I'm some freak, screwed up in the head.

You're broken from your spiraling thoughts by the feeling of his lips on your neck, teeth digging into the space beneath your jawline.

"I asked you a question, sweet girl."

You tremble in his grasp. He's not going to let it go. "Daddy..." you whimper, and he groans.

"You really are a perfect little girl for me," he mutters as his hand slides around from your ass to the front of your shorts. You tighten your grip on the back of his neck and lean forward, thinking he intends to pull your remaining clothes down your legs.

Instead, he clenches his fist and tears them, both your shorts and your panties, from your pussy. You yelp as he does so, and watch as the fabric goes flying somewhere off to the side.

"There you are, sweet thing," he murmurs, leaning back to look at you, hand back in position on your bare ass. "Look at you. Filthy and perfect for daddy, aren't you? A fantasy come to life, placed in my lap by the gods themselves."

You moan once more, pressing your bare cunt against the outline of his cock in his thin sleep pants. He reaches down to pull it free, and as you keep your balance against him, you look down and see perhaps the biggest dick you've ever laid eyes on. Ezra chuckles, watching your reaction.

"You ready, baby? Want me to fill you up, fuck you like you need?"

You nod, and lean in to press your face against the crook of his neck again. "Please," you whine. "I need your big cock in my pussy."

The words are completely unlike you - something about Ezra has awoken a completely submissive, unfiltered side of yourself you didn't know existed before. Sure, you knew you wanted him, and weren't a stranger to sex, but this is an entirely new personality, focused entirely on being his. It's almost like a dream, and for a moment you feel as though you're floating, with how relaxed you are in anticipation for --

Oh.

He's guided the head of his cock to your entrance, and is using his leverage on your ass to guide you slowly, slowly down. You gasp - he's certainly the biggest you've ever had, and the stretch is delicious. Ezra's restraining himself, going slow so he doesn't hurt you, but you have no such qualms.

You drop down in one fell swoop, and the way he fills you makes your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moves from your ass to around your waist, nearly encircling it entirely. He groans, loudly and deeply.

"You'll kill me like this, little one. You're just wrapped around my cock, aren't you? Desperate for it?"

You nod frantically. "Yes, daddy. Yes!"

Ezra moans at that. His hand grips your waist, teeth biting and sucking at your neck, as you push up on your thighs to lift off of him. The drag of his dick against the walls of your cunt is incredible, the head of it catching and pushing on hidden, sensitive ridges within you.

You drop down again, and begin to fuck yourself on Ezra's cock.

His hips piston up as you do so, finding and matching your rhythm with ease. His melodic voice mutters the dirtiest things you've ever heard as he slams his hips up into you.

"...That's it, sweet thing. You were made to fit on my cock, weren't you?..."

"...Wanted to do this that night in the hallway, take you right up against the wall..."

"...My strong, sweet girl, bouncing like a whore on daddy’s cock -- gods, look at your tits..."

You feel your climax building, rising like a fire about to consume you from the inside out. Ezra is close, too, from the way his hips stutter and his breathing becomes ragged.

"Sweet thing..." he groans, slowing his thrusts. "I can't... inside you..."

You shake your head. You know he's clean, since he was tested at the med-bay when he went in for the operation. And besides...

"I've got the implant, daddy. Come in me, please."

Ezra finishes with the most beautiful moan you've ever heard, and you come nearly at the same moment. It's an ethereal, heavenly experience, like the two of you have ascended and joined the gods who so graciously brought you together.

You fall asleep tucked into his chest, warm under his blanket, with the smell of him and you and both of you lulling you into the most peaceful sleep you've had in your life.

A month later, you and Ezra and Cee sit at a mahogany wood table, filling out a holo-tablet with the form for Cee's entrance into your alma mater on the Ephrate. Your sister is already taken with the place, and you couldn't be happier for her.

"Now it wants me to put in a parent or guardian's name," she says, stylus hovering over that section. The cursor blinks as it waits.

You're about to tell her to skip it, but Ezra speaks up before you can.

"Put my name down," he offers, and she looks over at him. "Is that okay with you?"

Cee nods, a genuine smile brightening her features. She turns back to the screen with haste.

"Ezra Stallard," he adds simply.

You look over to him, pleased with this revelation.

As you watch Cee enter Ezra's full name into the blank and select Guardian, you get a chill up your spine. Despite yourself, you think back to that night, and you know Ezra's thinking the same when his hand moves over to rest on your thigh.

You can't wait to have your ship to yourselves; the joy of seeing your sister thrive in a new setting is followed only by the anticipation of what is to come. You and Ezra have made no plans for the future yet - all you know is that he will be with you, and that's the only guarantee you need.

For the first time in a very long time, your heart sings.

#ezra x you #ezra (prospect)#ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x female reader #prospect #prospect fanfiction #prospect (2018)#ezra x reader smut #pedrp pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #ezra fic #ezra prospect x reader #canon compliant #wrote this while listening exclusively to grimes #take that as you will

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years

Text

Hot Stuff (Tim Drake x Reader)

Words: 3k

Req: “can you do a fic where the reader has to get protected and she doesn't want to and thinks it's dumb but like otherwise someone is gonna try to kill her so a batboy (of your choice) has to protect her and they like realize they like each other? i just think it would be really cute sorry haha you can ignore me.”

I’m not gonna ignore you!!! this is adorable! also i let ppl vote not knowing the prompt and they picked tim hehehe so this will be fun! you really left me a LOT of creative freedom lmao so i tried my best but had a lot of fun lolz hope you enjoy angel!

It had been at least 5 years since you had ever shivered. And the last time it happened you were like 20 seconds away from dying so the fact that it was becoming a common feeling was definitely a problem. But your near death every couple minutes was a pretty dumb excuse to get you holed up in the batcave being watched over by none other than Mr. Batman himself.

The whole problem arose when all the cold-powered super villains decided it was time for their equivalent of a crossover, deciding that if the world was frozen over they could... steal shit? Then unfreeze it or something? They were always a little slow (call it brain freeze if you will) but the beginnings of their plan worked and the temperature of the Earth was dropping steadily which didn’t bode well for a hero like you who’s powers revolved around heat and energy, the colder you got the weaker- making this the reason you were in a makeshift furnace set up discreetly in the Batcave.

“Morning y/n let’s see how you’re doing” Tim greeted you with a wave, grabbing a tablet that was tracking your internal body temperature and other boring statistics on whether or not you’d live. “Oh man, okay, lemme turn it up” Tim tapped at the tablet while you folded another paper airplane and threw it at the glass. “I feel fine man, like really, I’m just chilling” you shrugged, incinerating the paper airplane with a small flame in the center of your palm while Tim chuckled. “Well ya see, you ‘chilling’ is actually quite a bad thing, but yeah a couple minutes with extra heat and you can come to breakfast!” you rolled your eyes at his smothered laughter. “How long you been sitting on that one?” you teased him.

“Long enough Sparky, now warm up I’m hungry” Tim started you on a burst of energy while he moved on to the main BatComputer. “Whatcha solving today? Anything I can help with?” you squinted at the screen hoping for something interesting. “Bruce is going out to see if he can find the location of all the machines dropping the temp, and no, you’re definitely not going outside anytime soon” Tim chided you while you groaned and let sharp flames jutt from your clenched fists. “I’m not a child, I can regulate my temperature on my own, hell I can still make fire so clearly I’m fine” you said matter-of-factly holding up a flame and letting it dancing into a small burst.

“And I’d like to keep you that way y/n let’s not risk it, now c’mon I think you’ve taken in enough energy” Tim opened the door to your little glass room, his eyes widening at the heat that brushed over his face. “Dude you ever got hot in there?” Tim questioned, fanning his face from the exposure. “Nope, I’m kinda like that all the time” you explained, casually taking his hand to show him how your skin practically radiated heat. “Oh- wow, you’re really warm but it’s kinda cool.” Tim mumbled, pushing your palm flush up against his, the tops of his fingertips curling around yours while he grinned, “your hands are so small” you snorted, “whatever Drake, I could cook you like a bird if I wanted to,” you laughed, racing up the steps towards the kitchen ready to warm up some breakfast.

That afternoon you were helping Damian through homework hoping for any excitement in the pure boredom. “Alright, done. I’m going to take Titus out you can come- uh actually nevermind.” Damian shot you an apologetic look before grabbing Titus’ collar. “No actually I can go! I’m super warm and got the go ahead!” You quickly stood up, telling yourself a little getaway was necessary. “Really? I believe Drake said-” you cut Damian off, “Tim is like never right about anything yaknow? Let’s go!” You zipped up a couple of your jackets with a grin while Damian led you outside.

The air was crisp, like a fall day that was on the verge of shifting into winter. “You’re not going to die on me are you?” Damian glanced at you while you breathed in the fresh air peacefully. “No haha, this is just regulating my temperature using my powers for a little while, I get ill when I do it for too long, let’s go!” you raced down the street loving the freedom even though you could feel the cold creep in.

“Y/n? Y/n? Guys I think her eyelids are moving! Y/N! Can you hear me?” a familiar voice buzzed over the white noise while you began to regain your senses. Slowly you blinked your eyes open to see Damian, who looked pissed, Bruce, who also looked pissed, and Tim, who looked worse than ever. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING YOU LIED TO DAMIAN TO GO OUTSIDE THEN ALMOST DIED!” Tim was waving his hands and showing you charts of your warmth-cold ratios being at all time lows and spouting off concerning facts about your health while Bruce just looked at the ceiling asking ‘why me’.

“I thought I’d be fine” you whispered, feeling your throat scream at it’s use. “It’s like freezing outside- freakin colder than winter- and you wanted to go outside???” Tim looked exasperated, he was in a loose tank top and shorts, it looked like he’d been sweating so he had probably been next to you for a while during your recovery. “I didn’t think I’d get so cold” you mumbled, flexing your hands while you tried to regain your strength.

Eventually Tim calmed down, he went back to working on cases but you noticed him frequently checking to confirm you hadn’t left your new room. Damian chastised you for lying and told you how you essentially fainted a couple blocks into the walk, it was just way too cold too for you to function outside. But the small taste of freedom was worth it.

“Hey hot stuff,” Tim gave you a little devilish smile at his new nickname for you. “Cute Drake, but what’s up?” you called back as he approached your makeshift oven-room. “Nothing much just thought I’d come hangout- warm up your cold dark heart for once” you shook your head at all his heat-centered puns. “Tough talk for a glorified shish-kebab” you said with a laugh, letting a little spark dance on your finger tips.

“What does it feel like? The powers and being cold?” Tim asked, his eyes still staring at your palm. “Mhm it’s a part of me yaknow? So when it’s cold its like a piece of my being is being stifled, like choked out of me. But normally, it just flows through me and I can channel it and what not but right now it feels... rigid, like every ounce of warmth is being used to circulate through my own body” you said with a sign, missing the freedom and immense warmth. “We’re gonna fix this y/n you know that right? This is only temporary, I promise.” Tim whispered, inching closer to the glass.

You felt a tear slip out, quickly you pushed it away feeling it evaporate in your hands you looked up at Tim who was inches from the glass, his cheeks were red from the heat radiating on him as he stood bundled in a sweater. Slowly he gave you a hopeful smile, putting his hand up against the glass. With a small smile you uncurled your hand up to meet his, for a second you just met his eyes and knew you were safe. Even when everything seemed so cold Tim was warm, and he was always there for you.

A couple days later you were stable, but constantly needing reheating. You’d spent a lot of time with Tim who had set up a little workspace outside your room. He’d work on cases and talk to you, sometimes he’d catch a few minutes of sleep, his cheek pressed adorably up to the warm glass while you stifle giggles as his sleepy breaths fog the glass. Your situation was bearable with Tim, and you were really starting to enjoy his company.

“Red Robin we’ve got something” you watched Tim shoot up from his work as Bruce descended into the Batcave. “Barry Allen and the rest of Star Labs have reason to believe the frost machines aren’t actually underground, but their above us. Think pumping out cold air like an AC machine for the Earth” Tim nodded, sitting down at the batcomputer as he began typing rapidly. You were straining your neck against the glass to try to see what he was doing.

“Got it, try here, here, and here” Tim was pointing wildly at a map while Bruce sent out the coords. “Suit up, if we’re right this’ll be a real fight” Bruce said as he left to go get the others. After Tim was in his suit he came up next to your room with a grin. You looked at him with hopeful eyes, “you think this is it?” you asked Tim while he flashed you a hopeful smile. “I hope so y/n, if we’re lucky this will be it” he answered, taking a deep breath and clenching his hands into fists. “Well you need extra luck” you told him, he nodded then stopped short when you burst out of the room, throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “My hugs are super lucky” you whispered into his chest while his hands wrapped around your back. “I’ll take all the luck I can get” he mumbled, lowering his head into the crook of your neck. The hug was easy and perfect- until you started to shiver. Quickly Tim deposited you back into your room, turning up the heat.

“Guess I’m not hot enough for you” Tim snorted while you rubbed your shoulders. “Shut up dork, now go fix the world so I can give you a proper hug” you placed your hand against the glass again. With a nod he placed his hand to yours, “will do” he said, dashing off towards Bruce and Damian who were also all suited up.

“Y/n I must inform you they have in fact found the base and will be going into battle shortly” Alfred called from the computers while he monitored the team’s location. “Yes!” you shouted, pumping a fist in the air while you paced around your room.

The plan was clear, there were 10 giant AC machines pumping out the frost across the world, some heroes had been separated into teams each tasked with taking out their respective machine then any hero strong enough to lift the machines were in charge of bringing them to an undisclosed location on one of Bruce’s private islands for inspection and dismantling. Alfred had Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian’s vitals displayed on the screen as their suits were consistently monitoring them and you’d been craning your neck to keep track of the little bars. “god Alfie how do you take it? You can see every hit they take, every injury, you’re basically looking at it all going wrong!” you felt like tearing your hair out, watching the screen light up with every hit each boy took.

“You get used to it Ms. Y/n you must have faith that they’ve seen worse and can survive anything” Alfred answered cooly but it didn’t stop you from wincing everytime Tim’s bar lowered or lit up meaning he took a hit.

Over the comms you heard Bruce and Damian confirm their machine was sufficiently broken, as well as 8 of the other machines. As it turned out, Tim, Dick, and one of those annoying speedsters had been sent to the head machine, a few members of the league were at the other. You watched Tim take hit after hit, clearly him and Dick were struggling. “Alf is it just me or are Tim and Dick’s bars not going up” you were pounding at the glass of your room. Slowly Alfred nodded, abruptly standing up. To your shock he began moving around the cave, setting up what looked like a makeshift hospital room. “There will almost assuredly be some injuries after this battle. But how are you feeling Ms. Y/n as over half of the machines have been taken down” Alfred drew you away from the flashing bars as you realized you were feeling better, still not top shape but better than you’d been in days. “Yeah you’re right I’m definitely feeling better-”

“Hey Alfie Tim just got buried in snow any recommendations?” you heard Dick’s voice come over the speakers. Your head whipped to his bar which was flashing wildly as you shrieked. Alfred replied quickly, “Master Dick you must remove him immediately and wrap him with something warm as his suit cannot regulate him in freezing temperatures.” as he made his way back to the batcomputer, talking Dick through his next actions.

“Will do, he’ll be okay but he’s kinda a popsicle right now” Dick’s voice came over the comms again while you let out the breath you’d been holding in as you saw Tim’s bar sliding back up. Shortly after they were aided by the rest of the league, promptly taking out the final machine and finding the villains hiding inside.

Dick, Tim, and Damian returned to the cave shorty, Bruce was busy with league business interrogating the villains. Damian came in first, declaring he now hated the cold after how freezing that mission was. Following him was Dick who was walking with a slight limp as he called to Alfred explaining that he just twisted it when he dug Tim out of the snow. And last, Tim made his way into the cave. His hair was wet, clearly melted from being buried under snow. He was wearing a Star Labs sweatshirt and sweatpants as he held his waterlogged suit in his slightly shaky hands, and a towel was draped over his shoulders. “Alf you want my suit? Pretty sure I fried half the tech” he called as he shook his head, little water droplets flying from his hair. “I’ll see to it’s repair Master Tim” Alfred nodded, gesturing for Tim to place it next to him. “Also, might I recommend you spend some time with Miss Y/n as she is quite capable of warming you up” Alfred gestured towards your room before going back to examining Dick’s ankle.

Tim nodded in agreement, giving you a little wave as he stumbled into the room with you. Letting the relief flood your head you quickly brought him into a warm hug, focusing on pushing some of your energy forwards to warm him up. “Mhm” Tim’s eyelashes fluttered shut against your neck while he melted into your embrace. “You’re so cold” you whispered with a giggle. “Yeah and you’re really hot” Tim groaned in reply, though you could feel his lips curl into a smile against your neck. “I think you meant warm” you tried to ignore the butterflies having a rager in your stomach. “Hm no I said it right” Tim whispered in your ear making your eyes widen at his upfront response. “Oh, I- uh, thanks? I think you’re pretty cool- no not cool cuz like that’s the opposite of hot- yeah you’re-” you were silenced as Tim pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes shot open at the feeling of his ice cold lips pressed to yours but they quickly fluttered closed when his hand wrapped around the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss. His lips quickly warmed up against yours making your breath hitch when he slipped a cold hand around your waist pulling you flush against him. His fingers felt like ice as they grasped your back but you couldn’t but melt into his touch.

You pulled away first, taking in gasping breaths while you couldn’t help but grin. “You warm yet?” you teased, pulling his hand away from your back and placing your hand in his, giving it a warm squeeze. “Mhm one more kiss” he pouted, leaning down to place a smiling kiss onto your lips while you scrunched your nose. “I should seriously freeze to death more often if it means I get to kiss you” Tim said while you rolled your eyes. “Or you could just not die and I might give you a good-job kiss?” you offered with a grin. “Will do” Tim nodded, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Goodbye oven!” you shouted, practically kicking the door open as you finally got to leave the cramped room behind. Just a day later the Earth had returned to average temperature and you were free. “I am SO ready to go home, not that I didn’t like it here” you said, giving Tim a little smile as Bruce return all your belongings after a little over a week in Bat-Solitude. “Come back soon though?” Tim piped up with a hopeful looks. “Definitely, I won’t give you the cold shoulder” you snorted at your own joke while Damian groaned, saying something about being happy he’ll be free of your puns.

Tim walked you out, chatting your ear off about his next cases and all the time he had to come see you, over the course of the frozen-adventure you’d found a best friend and possibly something more, maybe the oven was worth it after all?

“Okay, so I’ll see you in a couple days?” you grinned as Tim nodded. “Yup! Now before you go, I need another good luck hug- they definitely work wonders seeing as last time I got buried in snow” Tim laughed, wrapping his arms around you as he chuckled into the hug. “Not my fault you turned into a snowman Drake” You gave him a squeeze before pulling away, locking eyes with him. His hand slipped to your chin again, but this time you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, loving the way sparks danced on your lips. Pulling out of the kiss as the car arrived Tim opened the door for you like the gentleman he is, giving your hand a squeeze.

“See you later hot stuff” Tim winked at you, shutting the door and waving as you drove away, shaking your head at his never ending puns, you smiled to yourself as soon as he was out of view, loving the idea that you’d get to tease that cute dork for the rest of your life.

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x y/n #tim drake x you #tim drake x fem!reader #damian wayne #batboys #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne #tim drake fluff #tim drake fanfic #red robin #red robin x reader #batfam #batfam x reader #dc fluff #jason todd #dc fanfic #timothy jackson drake

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

squabbler. (tsukishima kei)

➵ being a student in your country’s most prestigious mage university isn’t easy. even less so, when you have to turn to your sworn enemy, tsukishima kei, for help.

wc: 6.4k

warnings: gn!reader, mage!au

a/n: dariamorgendoerfer100 thank you for your support! you’re very sweet, and i enjoy your little comments T-T and a big thank you to both erin and ren for beta’ing this :( i love you both so much

Maybe you were a little early. And this was just a theory class; nothing too exciting, just an overview of the history of magic. But you couldn’t help it. You were just so damn excited.

You were the first person from your village to have earned a spot in the nation’s most prestigious mage academy, after all. Well, the first in a few decades. But that sort of detail wasn’t too important. What mattered was that you were here, in the halls of the great academy.

Said halls were currently empty. But you didn’t mind it too much. It gave you some time to admire it all. Admire how old the stone looked, without giving the impression it was falling apart. Admire how the entire place seemed to thrum with magic, echoing through every nook and cranny. Admire how even the way the sun filtered through the windows seemed to have a mythical quality to it.

However, rocks and stones were only interesting for so long. And nobody else had turned up.

How early were you? You pouted, playing with the hem of your robes.

Were you in the wrong place? Had you misread your letters? Were you on the wrong side of campus? Would you be penalised for being late? Was your academic career in shambles before it had even begun?

At that moment, you heard footsteps. You twirled around, almost tripping over your own feet.

It was a tall blond boy, clad in glasses and an expression of sincere disinterest. He looked roughly your age, and his umber robes were just a little too short in the sleeves.

Why was he so tall? Were humans allowed to be that tall? Had he used some kind of elicit magic to spur his growth?

You’d never met anyone that tall before. Not back home. And you were a really, really long way from home. And now was not the first moment that you’d wondered if you’d made the right decision, moving so far away.

No! You wouldn’t be intimidated by this. You’d come all this way, after all, and you were ready for anything. You would talk to this boy, and you would make your very first friend at this academy. Now that was a thrilling thought.

“Hello!” You piqued up, maintaining a respectable enough distance between the two of you. You’d have liked to say it was because you wanted to be polite, but it was mainly to ensure that you wouldn’t have to crane your neck so much as you looked up at him.

The boy said nothing. He didn’t even look at you. Had he not heard you?

“Are you excited to start?” You asked, speaking a little louder this time. That was a neutral enough question. Surely, that would beget some kind of response.

Still nothing. But, you did notice his eyebrows sink a little.

“I’m a bit nervous, myself,” you smiled nervously, tilting your head at him. Maybe he was just shy?

You swallowed, trying to ignore how clammy your hands were becoming. “Are you… from around here?”

The boy glanced at you for a second, and you felt the tightness in your chest ease a little.

But instead of answering you, he reached into his bag and pulled out one of the textbooks. He opened it without a word, leaning against the wall and positioning himself in such a way that allowed him to put you out of sight.

Oh, now you were mad. What, he couldn’t even engage in polite small talk? What was he, a child? What an ungrateful little–

You glowered at him, crossing your arms as you slumped against the wall. You weren’t about to start a fight. That wasn’t worth it – especially not on your first day. But you couldn’t help but feel a little angry.

You hadn’t managed to make your first friend at the academy. Oh, no.

You’d just made your first enemy.

✧✧✧

It only took about half a year for things to start going wrong.

For the most part, you were pretty decent at this whole magic thing. It wasn’t so much a natural aptitude – although your natural abilities certainly weren’t bad – but more a testament to your hard work.

Unfortunately, that asshole you’d met on your first day – who you’d now come to know as Tsukishima Kei – was also good. But he didn’t seem to care. Admittedly, you’d taken a peek at his test scores before – yes, you know it’s unethical, but you couldn’t help it. You’d just wanted to know if he had any legs to stand on, being as insufferably smug as he was. You hadn’t liked the answer.

Worse yet, your professors liked to call on him in class. And he answered perfectly, each and every time. And yet, he always sounded so bored? How could someone be bored learning about magic? Gods, that pissed you off.

And somehow, by some cruel trick of fate, he was in every single one of your classes. The cohort was big enough to be split in two, but no matter the arrangement of the rest of your peers, the two of you were always together.

He knew you didn’t like him. You’d never really spoken about it, but there’d been a fair few times when you’d mutually glared at each other during class. You weren’t quite sure if he just looked at everyone like that, or if he was targeting you specifically. Either way, you didn’t like it.

That wasn’t even taking into account the numerous tense in-class discussions you’d had. Every time you presented an idea, this beanpole of a man decided he needed to challenge it. You’d been humiliated for the first few months, but you’d made a valiant effort to grow some thicker skin. It had worked, for the most part; some days you could even fire back at your apathetic nemesis.

You could handle him fine enough. But your dorm-mates had decided to get themselves into a massive argument. You still weren’t sure over what, exactly, but it’s origin evidently didn’t matter. You were stuck in the middle, trying desperately to smooth over the situation.

But, it was quite difficult easing tensions when each angry party had the ability to set someone’s hair on fire – even if it was against academy rules. Playing mediator was taking up more of your time than it had any right to, and it was proving to be exhausting.

Worse yet, the workload had grown even more intense, and it was starting to overwhelm you. You’d known that the academy was tough, but you hadn’t properly comprehended it before coming here. Now, you were experiencing it.

And on top of all that, you’d been hit by a recent bout of homesickness. You could handle them well enough, frequently, that they were – but all those extenuating circumstances meant that your typical coping strategies were less effective.

You’d managed to stay on top of your studies, for the most part. Except, unfortunately, for one subject in particular.

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t wrap your head around alchemy. You always seemed to mess it up – and no amount of private tuition from the professor could help. You could tell she was a very clever woman, but it was obvious that because she just knew so much about it, she had a hard time noticing where the gaps in your knowledge might be. And frankly, the amount of time you spent speaking to her after class was getting embarrassing.

You’d decided that you wouldn’t speak to her this afternoon. It wouldn’t be productive, for one, and you were worried that you were wearing her patience thin. Perhaps it was time to find a proper tutor…

None of your friends were particularly good at alchemy, and you didn’t know any of your upperclassmen. Did the academy have an official tutoring program? You’d never actually looked into that sort of thing. But trying to search out that sort of thing would take precious time that you should spend studying…

That’s when he walked past you.

Tsukishima Kei. Top of the class.

A horrible idea blossomed in your mind. One that made your stomach churn.

Can I swallow my pride? You thought.

Yes. I’m desperate.

As soon as you finished that thought, you turned and tore down the corridor as fast as your legs could carry you. He was already what felt like half a country away. Damn him and his long legs.

“Hey!” You hollered, cursing your own lack of stamina. “Hey, Tsukishima!”

He paused, looking over his shoulder with an expression of baffled irritation.

You skittered to a stop behind him. “Please tutor me,” you said, each word punctuated by a deep breath.

“Huh?” He grimaced, looking down at you. “No.”

“No please!” You gasped. “Please!”

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes at you, turning around.

Oh, you weren’t letting him get away that easily.

You dashed around him, standing right in his way.

You were running on pure instinct and desperation now, bowing sharply with your fists clenched at your side.

People were definitely starting to stare. But you were pretty damn desperate. The examination was barrelling towards you, and you certainly hadn’t studied enough for it.

“I’ll help you if you stop making a scene,” he hissed, face flushed with embarrassment.

You shot up to full height, looking at him with an expression that appeared to be misplaced adoration. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Did you listen to me at all—”

“Tomorrow night, seven o’clock,” you breathed, “The library. Bye!”

You fled, not giving him the time to refute you. And you were glad you ran; you could feel your cheeks burning, almost as much as your chest was. You hated running, but you needed to make sure he wouldn’t change his mind.

That was unequivocally one of the most embarrassing things you’d ever done.

But you were pretty damn desperate.

✧✧✧

Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he decided not to come. Your trust in him was tenuous at best; you could only hope that you’d appealed to at least some iota of human decency locked behind that mask of apathy.

Suffice to say that morale was low.

It had been a long day. One of your friends had roped you into renovating the greenhouse with them, and that had been much more work than you’d anticipated. Apparently all the plants along one of the walls had to be relocated, and all in one day. You’d wanted to say no when you’d found that out, but your friend had been so stressed. You hadn’t had the heart to walk away from them.

So, you’d been diligently running around all afternoon, slowly feeling the work ebb away at your energy reserve. All the while, you’d been worrying about your study session. Wondering if Tsukishima would turn up. Wondering if he was actually capable of salvaging your alchemy grades.

You glanced at a candle in one of the alcoves, each inch burned representing an hour passed.

Tsukishima was late.

You sighed, resting your head on the desk. It was foolish of you to put your hopes in him. He had no reason to extend a hand. If anything, your academic blunders were probably a feather in his cap. You hated the thought of him revelling in your failure. Were you really so stupid as to ask him for help?

Before you knew it, you’d closed your eyes, fluttering in and out of consciousness. You would’ve made more of an effort to stay awake, in case Tsukishima did turn up and use the fact you were sleeping as an excuse to run off.

But you were just so tired…

Tsukishima Kei… bastard…

You could hear students shuffling around the library, but nobody seemed to be approaching you. How long had it been now? Were you a fool for waiting around for so long, for a boy who obviously wasn’t coming?

Alchemy… I have to pass…

A warm, pleasant sound came from above you, rousing you gently from your half-consciousness.

Was that… a laugh? Well, it wasn’t a true laugh; it was something more like a chuckle, like the person responsible for it was ashamed to be so amused.

Your eyes fluttered open, all bleary from your nap. “Huh?”

“If you don’t wake up, I’ll leave.”

Your head snapped up at that, your archnemesis coming into vision. You realised, then, that it must’ve been him that laughed. That unfortunately came hand-in-hand with the revelation that you didn’t hate the sound.

“I was tired,” you grumbled, stretching your arms above your head in a grandiose show.

“Whatever,” he sighed, slipping into the seat next to you with the air of a man who was about to start calculating his debts. “Maybe you should just head back to your dorm,” he sighed. “I don’t know if you’re in any state to study.”

“Listen,” you hissed, “I’m tired. And you’re late.”

“Relax,” Tsukishima yawned, reaching one hand into his bag. “I had work to do.”

You blinked at him, trying to soothe the anger brewing in your chest.

“I actually finished early, by the way.”

“Oh,” you swallowed, the anger quickly slipping into a mild guilt. “I’m— sorry—”

“Whatever,” he sighed, tossing a textbook onto the table.

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say. You were supposed to be studying, right? That meant you couldn’t be too abrasive, lest you get nothing of worth done. Could you do that?

“Let’s just get this over and done with, alright?” He sounded just as bored as always.

You mumbled something incoherent, even to yourself.

“What do you need help with?” Tsukishima sighed, electing to ignore you.

“Uh…”

“Don’t say everything.”

You stayed resolutely silent.

“Fucking…” Tsukishima groaned, rubbing a temple with his fingers.

“Well, that’s not very polite,” you grumbled, crossing your arms as you sat back in your chair.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what to focus on,” Tsukishima snapped, frustratingly straightforward. “Do you know the basics of chrysopoeia?”

You blinked at him for a moment. “Yes…?”

“Do you know what that is?”

“That’s when…” You frowned, racking your drowsy brain for the answer. The term was familiar, but…

“Come on.” Tsukishima looked like he was one breath away from getting up and leaving. “We did this last year.”

“Oh!” You gasped, sitting up a little straighter. “Gold! It’s gold!”

Tsukishima sighed. “Almost. Do you remember how to make gold?”

“What am I making it from?” You frowned. “You can’t ask such a broad question.”

He blinked at you for a second, seemingly frustrated at the fact that you were right. The base metal mattered, after all.

“Fine,” he mumbled. “I’m sure you know how to do it with lead, so… how about copper?”

The two of you ran over a series of transmutations, helping Tsukishima figure out the gaps in your knowledge. You couldn’t tell if he was impressed or annoyed by the fact that you knew more than he’d expected. You, at least, felt some sense of pride; you were smarter than he’d given you credit for. Although, another part of you felt as though you should be offended by the fact he’d thought you’d be stupider than this.

You glanced at the candle again. Another two hours had passed. Gods, you were getting tired. You plopped your crossed arms on the table, sinking down over them and using them as a pillow. You closed your eyes for a second, letting Tsukishima methodically explain the theoretical process of refining an alkahest.

“Are you even listening to me?” He hissed, nudging you with an elbow.

“Mhm,” you murmured, half your face covered by your crossed arms.

Tsukishima had half a mind to bonk you on the back of the head with his textbook. But, he wasn’t about to do that. Not when you seemed like you’d explode at him for the smallest of provocations.

It was a real shame you looked so cute, all sleepy—

What… the fuck? He thought to himself, freezing at the revelation.

You? Cute? Those were not two words that belonged together. Not under any circumstance.

“Get up,” he hissed, two fingers poking at your temple.

You groaned, trying to hit his assault away with a limp hand.

“We’re done here,” he huffed, standing up sharply.

You jolted upright in your chair, looking up at him with wide eyes. “But we’re not done!”

“It’s one in the morning,” he grumbled, pointing at the candle nestled in a cranny on the wall next to you. Sure enough, the wax had melted, leaving a stump that was only a couple of inches tall.

“But… but I still don’t feel like I’ve caught up,” you groaned, standing up with a creak in your bones. How old were you? Sixty?

“Not my problem,” he shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

No. No, you weren’t letting your one chance at academic redemption get away from you that easily.

“Tsukishima,” you whined, turning to look up at him with the most desperate puppy eyes you could manage. You had half a mind to clasp your hands together in front of you to really complete the image. “Tsukki—”

“Don’t call me that.”

Whoops. “I’m sorry!” You said, the phrase jumbling out a bit too quickly. “Please… please help me out again. Please.”

He looked down at you, his eyebrows pinched together in a look that you could only describe as mild disgust. Were you that annoying? Was this such a waste of his time?

“Fine.”

Huh? “Wait, are you serious?”

“Unfortunately,” he muttered.

An unbridled grin broke out across your face. You’d looked deflated mere seconds ago, but now you’d been given new life. Tsukishima was doing all he could to ignore how radiant you looked in the dim half-light of the lanterns.

“If I said no, you’d just keep pestering me about it,” he grumbled, turning his back to you.

You pouted, but had nothing to say. Unfortunately, he was right. You just turned back to your books, packing them into your bag.

“Hurry up,” Tsukishima sighed, making you jump.

“Hm?” You looked over your shoulder, surprised to see him still standing there.

“I want to go to sleep.”

“Then go to bed,” you blinked.

“I will,” he said, “but I can’t do that until I’ve dropped you off at your dorm.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that you almost apologised. Almost.

“Huh?”

“Just… just hurry up, okay?”

✧✧✧

“Hey, Tsukki? hat’s wrong?” Yamaguchi frowned, tilting his head at his companion. “You’re usually great at this stuff.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Tsukishima grumbled, letting his hand fall to his side. He’d been trying to produce a solid ball of light for the past five minutes.

“Are you sure?”

Tuskishima clenched his fist, feeling a wisp of air escape from it. Ah, so he’d been producing something, at least. But regardless, he was wasting their designated time in the courtyard. And he certainly didn’t plan on wasting any more of it by indulging Yamaguchi’s desire to pry into his private life.

“You’ve been kind of off these days, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi pouted, eyebrows pinched together as he regarded his friend. “Have you been sleeping alright?”

“I’ve been sleeping fine,” Tsukishima snapped. Even he knew that was a disproportionate response. But the fact of the matter was he certainly wasn’t sleeping as well as he could be. It was just that every time he closed his eyes, his thoughts managed to find their way back to you.

And quite frankly, he didn’t want to see you anymore than he had to. Even if it was in his half-asleep thoughts, where you were smiling up at him like you actually wanted to see him—

“Tsukishima!”

Oh no.

He cringed, jaw clenching as he saw you running towards him from the other side of the courtyard, your robes fluttering behind you.

Yamaguchi glanced at him, eyebrows raised just a little.

You came to a stop in front of them, giving them each a little bow. Only Yamaguchi returned it.

“What do you want?” Tsukishima swallowed, uncomfortably aware of Yamaguchi’s eyes.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi murmured. It was less his name and more a plea to not be so rude. Tsukishima could tell that from Yamaguchi’s tone of voice alone.

You looked up at Tsukishima, your features pulled into a look of perfect indignation. “Oh, so he’s allowed to call you Tsukki.”

“Bold of you to assume he ever asked me for permission,” Tsukishima grumbled.

You pouted at him for a moment, until your eyes lit up with a certain kind of mischief that Tsukishima had come to dread.

“He talks about you a lot,” you said, turning to Yamaguchi with the brightest smile on your face.

“I do not—”

“You sound like a good friend,” you beamed, hands behind your back. “Tsukki seems to hate literally everyone, so good job!”

“Why are you like this?” Tuskishima groaned, his hands coming up to cover his face.

“Like what?” You asked, your expression the perfect picture of innocence.

He wanted to choose his next words carefully. Very carefully.

“Ah!” You straightened up, your head whipping around to the other side of the courtyard.

“Is everything okay?” Tsukishima frowned, only the smallest touch of concern in his voice.

“I have a meeting,” you said, twirling around in a flurry of robes. “Bye!”

Tsukishima opened his mouth to shout after you; something about how you can’t run away from an argument, about how this entire exchange was entirely useless, about how you needed to keep better track of time…

But you were already gone. All he could do was stare at the spot you’d just been, a look of mild displeasure on his face.

He didn’t check that expression in time. Yamaguchi had already seen it.

“Oh?”

Oh no.

Yamaguchi was grinning. Widely. Usually he’d try and hide that sort of thing behind one of his hands, but not today.

“I don’t,” Tsukishima grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I haven’t even said anything yet,” Yamaguchi giggled.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong,” Tsukishima grunted, the tips of his ears suddenly feeling quite warm.

“So,” Yamaguchi hummed, tilting his head to the side. “Want to tell me about them?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Really?” Oh, Yamaguchi was having the time of his life. “You don’t want to… hold their hand, do you?”

“Yamaguchi.”

“What? I’m just curious.”

“Another word out of you and I’ll strike you down where you stand.”

✧✧✧

You liked Yamaguchi well enough. The fact that he was friends with Tsukishima was almost funny.

You just didn’t know why he was with the two of you right now.

“Yamaguchi.”

“Mhm?”

“Do you need to be here?” Tsukishima sighed, not looking up from the textbook.

“Aw, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi frowned, barely trying to hide the mischief in his eyes. “I just want to hang out with my best friend.”

“And?” Tsukishima prompted, rubbing his temples.

“Oh, Tuskki,” you pouted, tilting your head at him. “He just wants to hang out with his best friend! You’d really kick him out so coldly?” You didn’t know why Yamaguchi was in the mood to tease, but you definitely wanted to be a part of it.

“I didn’t ask for your input,” Tsukishima snapped, picking up his quill with an unusual amount of irritation.

Yamaguchi snickered.

“You should respect your friends some more,” you sighed, twirling your own quill in your fingers.

“Who are you?” Tsukishima scoffed. “My mother?”

“No.” You shook your head, sketching the symbol for mercury on your page absent-mindedly. “I would’ve raised you better.”

Yamaguchi had to cover his mouth at that one.

“You’re dragging my family into this?”

Oh shit, you thought, might want to backtrack that one. “You’re right, I should give your mother more credit. I can’t imagine having to put up with you for… what is it now? Eighteen? Nineteen years?”

“Do you want me to tutor you or not?” Tsukishima glowered at you. “Because if you’re going to keep being ungrateful, then—”

“I’m sorry!” You squeaked, bowing your head at him. “I take it back, you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met—”

“That wasn’t an indication to swing too far in the opposite direction,” he rolled his eyes, praying that his cheeks weren’t too pink. “Now just… just start solving that transmutation, okay?”

You pouted at him for a long moment.

“What?” Tsukishima sighed.

“I’m just wondering,” you mused, “Are you cursed?”

Tsukishima’s face dropped. “What are you on about?”

“Well, I was thinking,” you hummed, tapping the feather of your quill against your lips. Tsukishima was determined to look literally anywhere else.

“That’s not a good thing,” he mumbled.

“You’re literally incapable of saying anything nice to your friends,” you mused, tilting your head at him. “Is that because you’re cursed?”

“Do you ever say anything that makes sense?”

“See! That’s a great example!”

“What—we’re not friends—”

“Now that’s the meanest thing you’ve said to me so far!”

Why were you like this? Why were you so difficult to put a finger on? And why was Yamaguchi giggling?

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima growled, casting him a glance.

“I’ll be quiet,” Yamaguchi smiled, turning back to his own work.

“And you,” Tsukishima said, tapping you on the nose with his quill. “Get to work.”

For once, you complied. Fun as it was to get on Tsukishima’s nerves, you had an exam coming up. And if you lost your one comrade in this fight to the perils of homework, then you were willing to get serious yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Yamaguchi wasn’t actually doing his work. Not at all. He was watching the two of you, desperate to catch a whiff of any romantic tension.

He’d never seen Tsukishima be this… patient. Sure, it might not have seemed that way to anyone else, but Yamaguchi knew the lanky blond better than anyone else here. The fact that Tsukishima was taking the time to explain anything to you was a miracle in itself.

But that wasn’t enough to convince him.

No, he was convinced by the deep flush of red that graced Tsukishima’s cheeks when you beamed up at him. You’d just re-explained a concept to him perfectly, and it was Tsukishima’s dry praise that got you to light up so much.

Poor Tsukishima didn’t know what to do, simply staring at you with a look that was halfway between annoyance and confusion. Yamaguchi hadn’t thought that an ‘angry blush’ was a thing, but he was seeing it right in front of his eyes.

What he didn’t know was that Tsukishima was angry for two reasons; the first was that you were so damn cute, despite how annoying you could be. The second was that he didn’t want to admit you were cute. Which meant this feeling had nowhere to go. It would just fester in a corner of his chest, ready to jump on him while he was trying to get to sleep.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked, shocking Tsukishima out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You’re glaring at me,” you said, biting your lip. “And you’re all red.”

“I’m fine,” he replied, a little too quickly.

Yamaguchi giggled at that. Did he have to be here? Tsukishima just wanted to suffer alone.

“Oi, guys!” A voice boomed out, much too loud for the library. “Come look at this!”

“Oh no,” Tsukishima sighed, fingers rubbing his temples. “Not them, too.”

You looked up, determined to see who, exactly ‘them’ was.

Three boys stood in front of you, two clad in the rich purple robes of the fourth years, and one in the emerald green of the third.

“Oh ho?”

“Oh ho ho?”

“What’s this?” One of the fourth years smirked, his unruly black hair sticking out at all angles. “Is our little Tsukki blushing?”

“Sure looks like it,” the other fourth year grinned, and you realised he was the voice that’d disturbed the peace. You realised, not without some amusement, that he looked something like an owl.

“Leave him alone,” the third year sighed. He had the air of a mother who’d been worn down from years of trying to look after some delinquent children.

You braved a glance at Tsukishima.

He looked like he wanted to die; but not without taking those two fourth years out with him.

“But Tsukki’s talking to someone who isn’t Yamaguchi,” Bokuto gasped, patting the third year on the shoulder. “Akaashi, this is big.”

“He talks to you, doesn’t he?” Akaashi sighed.

“Not by choice,” Tsukshima mumbled.

“Don’t be mean,” the other fourth year chided, crossing his arms.

“Can you please leave?” Tsukishima said. “We’re trying to work here.”

“Aw, you can’t talk to your precious upperclassmen?” Bokuto cooed.

“We happen to be quite busy.”

“He used ‘we’ twice,” the other fourth year pointed out, giving his friend a knowing look.

“For fuck’s sake…” Tsukishima sighed, rubbing his temples yet again. “I’m trying to help my—my friend study so they don’t fail an exam, okay?”

“I’m your friend?” You gasped, placing a hand over your chest in mock-delight.

Tsukishima only just realised what a terrible mistake he’d made.

“Oi, Kuroo,” Bokuto slapped the other fourth year’s arm with the back of his hand. Tsukishima didn’t like the look on either of their faces. “I need to talk to you about… something.”

Kuroo grinned in response, and both boys ran off so quickly that they might as well have puffed into smoke.

“I’m so sorry,” Akaashi mumbled, giving the three of you at the table a small bow.

“Not a problem,” you smiled, waving a hand at him.

He just nodded before walking off himself. You weren’t sure if he would bother looking for the other two or not.

You snuck a glance at Tsukishima. “Are you okay? You seem… stressed.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders.

“Friends of yours?” You hummed. “Like me?”

“You could say that,” he grumbled, his cheeks just as vibrant as they had been a couple of minutes ago.

You grinned, elated at your ‘win.’ Sure, a couple of weeks ago you would’ve balked at the thought of wanting Tsukishima Kei to call you his friend. Maybe it was because it had seemed so impossible to win any kind of approval from him.

Yeah, that had to be it.

“Can we go over the transmutations of iron?” You asked, cutting off your thoughts before they could steer themselves in a direction you didn’t like.

The two of you worked away for the next half an hour or so, Yamaguchi peacefully watching on from the other side of the table. But eventually, he’d seen all he wanted to see. And he wanted to give you two a little privacy; for Tsukishima’s pride, if nothing else.

“Anyway,” Yamaguchi yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “I’m going to go.”

You jumped. In all honesty, you’d totally forgotten he was there.

“Whatever,” Tsukishima sighed. He looked a bit like he was trying to fight off a yawn himself.

Yamaguchi stood up and gave you a little nod before beaming at Tsukishima. “Tsukki, I’ll see you later tonight at the dorms, right?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Tsukishima frowned.

“Just checking,” Yamaguchi said brightly. You had half a mind to ask him what that was about, but he’d scurried away from the table before you had time to think about it properly.

Tsukishima had decided to pay it no mind, instead just turning to you and saying something about gold. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you could feel the weight of the day beginning to bear down on the two of you.

Tsukishima groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“You okay?” You asked, glancing at him.

He sighed, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. And it wasn’t really.

But seeing him without his glasses made you pause. Was Tsukishima Kei… handsome? Had he been handsome this entire time, and you were just too blinded by rage to notice it? And what were you supposed to do with this information?

You watched, rapt with terror as he put his glasses back on.

Enemy sighted. You blinked, trying to process what was going on.

What the fuck had just happened? Were you so tired as to think that your sworn rival Tsukishima Kei was attractive?

Besides, what did it even matter if he was handsome or not? Plenty of handsome people were downright unbearable. Not that you would slander Tsukishima in such a way. He wasn’t that bad.

“Hurry up,” he grumbled, packing his own books into his bag.

Oh, right. He was going to walk you back to your dorm. Again. He’d made a habit of it, after these little study sessions of yours. The fact that he was under no obligation to do such a thing made it all seem so… gentlemanly.

You said very little as you walked side by side, too wrapped up in your own thoughts. He was supposed to be your sworn rival. And yet, there you were, feeling a bit like you were floating, and a bit like you were about to throw up.

Oh, well. This would be over soon enough.

✧✧✧

“So.”

You looked up at him, biting your lip. “So.”

“How do you think you did?”

Tsukishima was close behind you as you left the classroom, the bubble of anxious conversation rippling through your peers.

You were more nervous about this closeness between you than you’d been about the damn exam. You swallowed, quickly maneuvering your way through the crowd to find some more open space.

“You haven’t answer my question,” Tsukishima grumbled, hot on your heels.

Oh, right.

“I did the best I could,” you said, looking up at him with a smile.

He smiled back.

Oh, no. No, you weren’t used to that. You weren’t used to how cute he looked when he smiled. Oh, this was all unfamiliar territory. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to feel. Uh—

“I tried my best, and that’s what matters,” you breathed, turning around and skipping down the hallway. What were you? Seven?

Tsukishima watched you, his legs long enough to keep up with you without issue. “Are you… okay?”

He probably thinks I’m weird, you thought. I’m an adult and I’m bloody skipping down the hallway like a child—

“Yes! I’m fine!” You lied, slowing down to a regular walking speed. What were you even supposed to say to him anymore, now that the exam was done?

Tsukishima hummed, but he didn’t press the issue further. Which was worse—you abhorred the silence.

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do with my evenings, now,” you said, more in a bid to fill the space between you than anything else. “I’m going to be deathly bored.”

Maybe that was a little too honest.

But you didn’t miss how he very quietly murmured, “Me too.”

Oh, you weren’t going to let that go. Not at all.

You zipped in front of him, coming to a standstill. He skidded to a stop himself, both startled and embarrassed at the fact that he’d nearly just tripped over you.

You looked up at him resolutely, a mixture of nervousness and mischief painted across your face. “That’s because you won’t be hanging out with me, right?”

Tsukishima opened his mouth as if to say something, but he seemed to stop himself from responding. But, his cheeks bloomed a familiar red, and the tenderness in his eyes betrayed him.

Your heart hammered in your chest, and you felt a handful of words away from humiliating yourself. But there was a little, tiny opening here, and you didn’t want to let it go to waste.

“Would you… like to catch up later?” You asked, tilting your head at him.

“To… study?”

You did have a couple more exams to worry about. But that wasn’t what you were interested in.

“We can if you really want to,” you smiled, lacing your hands together behind your back. “But wouldn’t it be more fun to head into town?”

“Sure,” he swallowed, sticking his hands in his pockets. He couldn’t quite meet your gaze, his entire posture screaming with awkwardness. He really had no clue how to handle this, did he?

“You know I’m talking about a date, right?” A tease or two wouldn’t hurt.

“Of course I know that!” He snapped, neck and ears now slowly turning red. “I’m not dumb!”

“Ah! So you do like me then!” You giggled, well-aware that your own cheeks must be glowing by now.

“I—I never said that,” he huffed, finally looking at you.

You frowned at him, eyes wide and round with hurt. It did sting a little.

“But… But I never said I don’t,” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

You beamed up at him, standing up a little straighter as relief flooded your chest.

“You’re so exhausting,” he whined, bringing his hands up to cover his face. You’d count that as an absolute win.

You laughed, stepping forward and tugging at his wrists. You weren’t used to that kind of contact, but you were determined to start familiarizing yourself with it.

He dropped one of his hands from his face with some reticence, and you took the opportunity to lace your fingers through his.

“Let’s get something to eat,” you said, positive that if his hand wasn’t tying you to the ground, you’d be floating off into the great unknown.

He said nothing. But, he didn’t let go of your hand.

Some part of you felt like gloating. You’d managed to leave the Tsukishima Kei speechless; and you’d managed to make him blush. Even if your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest, and even though you couldn’t stop a smile from taking over your face, you’d managed to get the last laugh.

But, had you really?

✧ ✧

“I can’t believe it,” Kuroo snorted, watching the two of you from the other side of the courtyard.

“I told you they’d be fine,” Akaashi sighed, a little flutter of relief in his chest.

“I still think our plan would’ve been great,” Kuroo yawned, scratching the back of his neck.

“Leaving two people stranded in the forest is more likely to leave them panicked, not ready for love,” Akaashi said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kuroo sighed, waving a hand at his friend. He glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “You okay?”

An expression of resigned acceptance graced Akaashi’s face. “Bokuto’s never going to shut up about this.”

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei imagines #tsukishima imagines #haikyuucreations #okay so it didn't show up in the tags so i'm posting it again :|#me: i don't want to look at this again #tumblr: oh that's nice :)

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broadwayandnetflix · 4 years

Text

Pick Me Up - Bill Hader x Reader

Theme: Fluff, with some Angst

Warnings: Language, Use of Alcohol

Summary: Bill wakes up in the early hours of the morning with a request to pick up a rather drunken you.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I started this ages ago, I still really dig some of my word usage in this fic. Once again, Maggie Carey and Bill will not be married in this fic. Thanks for dealing with my sporadic fic posting.

It was just supposed to be one drink. Even if you could remember that rule, you were pissed off and needed to forget everything for a while. Just enough for the alcohol to slip into your system and make you feel somewhat fixed for the night.

Except one drink became two, and three, and soon five. I think it’s important to note that you were an incredible lightweight when handling alcohol.

Usually, you’d have a friend by your side, but this bar wasn’t that far of a walk from your apartment. It would almost be quite the resource, but you rarely tended to turn to drink.

Except that is, until you found out that your boyfriend of five years cheated on you. You were crushed, obviously, but you had almost seen this coming. Or maybe you didn’t; it just didn’t seem impossible for him to pull this act on you.

After booking a job as a cast member on the thirty-eighth season of Saturday Night Live, you often found yourself becoming busier than you had ever been. You would frequently come home late and not have enough time for your partner as you had imagined.

Except, Justin had been so understanding. Why wouldn’t he? He was a surgeon at Lenox Hill and would always take night shifts to keep things afloat.

He was charming, kind, and always knew how to surprise you. You could still picture your future wedding and marriage so vividly; he was the man of your dreams, but was he really?

He probably wasn’t when you had found him fucking a random girl senseless in your shared bedroom. That’s beside the point, everything felt floaty and fuzzy, and the bartender looked concerned.

“Want me to call someone for you?” she suggested as she leaned against the counter. One hand flipping a pen, the other sneaking up to the phone beside her on the wall.

Justi-no, just no, you stopped yourself quickly.

You swallowed carefully, looking at her with an emotion swirling within you that you couldn’t quite place. She cocked an eyebrow, just waiting for your answer to flop into her fingertips.

“His name is, um, he’s a friend. Just a friend, yeah, sure. Okay, hmph. His number is-,”

—

He had just gotten to bed finally, or so he had thought, almost perfecting not focusing on the way his breathing was lulling him to sleep. It was way too late for this anyway; he would definitely make a pick me up at the local joe’s the next morning.

That was until he heard a faint buzzing come from his bedside table; he rubbed his eyes with annoyance. At this hour, who the hell was disrupting him was his first thought, that was until he saw an odd number.

Seth had always told him not to accept calls like these, but something didn’t sit right. Hopefully, he was wrong; it could very well be someone ‘butt-dialing’ him.

“Hello?” damn, he sounded gruff, was this new?

“Hi, I’m here with Y/N; she’s currently here with me at April’s Brewery on 16 W 51st street. It’s getting rather late, and we are closing up soon. She said I should call you, Bill, right?” she confirmed, the information twisting around in his drowsy mind.

“Oh, um, yeah, I am. Is Y/N, okay? I mean, yeah, I’m coming as soon as possible.” he stammered, hanging up before she could even speak, rushing out the door, and calling forth a taxicab.

Why did Y/N pick him of all people? He was him, and you were well you! He didn’t even think you were even that close, well, maybe you were. Things between you and him were pretty nice; you could make him laugh like no other. You made his days better, even if it was with something small and not that big in retrospect.

Except then again, wasn’t this Jus-whoever’s job? Your boyfriend’s job to pick you up? Why were you even drinking in the first place? He had many questions.

The cab pulled to a halt, and he paid the necessary change. Giving the driver a tight-lipped smile, he hopped out and made his way into the destination he was given.

The bar looked reasonably deserted at this point. Still, there you sat looking absolutely crushed, or what appeared that way, nursing what seemed to be a glass of something that didn’t quite look like water. Lost in some conversation with the women who he assumed had called him, her eyes catching him in what looked to be a sense of relief.

She had whispered something to you, but instantly you poked your head up. Immediately locking eyes with him, you pulled yourself up, an excited grin dashing upon your lips.

“You came, oh Billy!” you squealed, rushing over to him before slipping, his arms rushing over to hold you up.

Billy? he thought with much amusement and, of course, concern.

“Woah Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this...” he drew on his words, your head tilting in confusion.

“I’ve never seen you this drunk,” he admitted finally only to have you burst into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, Billy, you are so fucking funny. Do you know that? You make me laugh so much, like a crazy amount. God, you are so cute!” His eyes widened. Were you cheating? No, no, he couldn’t do this.

“Y/N, sweetie.” he began while sliding the bartender a couple twenties, leading you out the door. Steering the two of you to a nearby pocket of space between the bar and a convenience store.

“You have a boyfriend, I sincerely hope you didn’t forget,” he stated only to see you deflate at the thought.

“No, not anymore, or at least I don’t think so.” you cried the tears coming down faster than he could’ve imagined.

Wait, really? He sure as hell didn’t see this coming; you two had been together for what had appeared to be a long time. Judging by your conversations at work, things seemed to be fine between you two, rusty, but okay.

You shifted your feet, looking anywhere but him, he gulped, taking hold of your quivering hands that tugged at each finger anxiously. Eyes widening, you looked up at him, something settling in your eyes that he couldn’t quite process.

He smiled softly, lifting up his thumb to wipe away your tear stained cheeks. That’s what friends did, right? You sniffed, pulling back a little farther.

“I don’t think I can go back home tonight; Justin cheated on me with someone from his work.” you huffed, feeling everything come back at full swing.

“Oh Y/N/N, come here,” he whispered, beckoning you into his arms. It absolutely crushed him to see you so....broken.

Slowly but surely, you fell into his arms and sobbed quietly. His hands rubbing soothing circles onto your back, whispering sweet nothings to you. Anything to help, god, he hoped he was helping.

“God, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” you choked out after a while, clearing your throat and pulling away from him.

His eyes darting between yours and the way your hands twitched anxiously. The sky now a deep violet speckled in navy clouds, stars peeking out from the city fog to illuminate your surroundings. The neon lights of the convenience store sitting behind you showing just how late it was. The way it hit you all at once, lighting up the way your cheeks were stained from your tears.

He had never really had a chance to tell you how beautiful you were. It wasn’t even like he was trying to start trouble; you just were.

Whether it was in weekly meetings, bright and early, the buzz of the day settling into the cast. He’d notice it, the way your lips curved into that gorgeous grin you always seemed to carry on you. The way you did your hair, how it complimented your features so effortlessly. How your eyes would filter in appreciation of everyone in the room, how you’d stop shortly at his. The crinkle in your eyes, a smile beaming at him, offering a little wink.

Mornings with you were never dull, or at least that’s what he thought. He always knew you were out of his reach, so his heart stayed far from him, like a buoy sinking up and back down into the waves of his consciousness, always there but never willing to commit.

Even now, in your current state, he was in awe of your beauty. Yet, it wasn’t polite to stare, and he had to make sure that you’d get some sleep and a cup of water and painkillers by your side the next morning.

“I have a spare bedroom. Honestly, it’s way too late, and I don’t mind it.” Bill gestured, trying to focus on any signs of protest that could erupt from you.

“O-okay,” you whispered in agreement, rubbing your eyes as fatigue started to settle in. A motion that Bill definitely didn’t miss while he looked you up and down.

He gave a toothy grin before motioning you to follow him, standing before the bustling streets of Manhattan. Even at night, cars buzzed and honked past at moderate speeds. His hand outstretched to catch the attention of taxis, one hand reaching out to take ahold of yours.

It felt nice when he touched your little hands slip into his somewhat larger grasp; it felt normal almost. God, he was such a freak, you just got cheated on. You were just friends, nothing else. Get it together, Hader.

A car pulled close to the curb, and within seconds the two of you settled in. He gave the address and buckled in. You looked rather comfy with your face smudged against the cab window.

He smiled softly, as slowly but surely, you fell asleep. The city blurring around the two of you, bright lights and street signs becoming one. He always admired New York City at night, the way it never really stopped moving. Despite the early hours of the morning, people still bustled amongst the streets.

It was still fairly early into his departure of Saturday Night Live; his face was familiar, but not quite famous like his other costars. He could walk the streets with ease and get stopped only a few times. He didn’t know how long it’d last, but he enjoyed the sense of invisibility he carried.

You, however, were admired by many. Bill could remember your first few days on set, those who were not married or dating setting bets on you. Hader often scoffed at the idea of winning your heart amongst his coworkers, you were a constellation, and he was light-years away. That is until you mentioned that you were dating some doctor, and the competition died down.

Yet every now and then, his stomach would grow a flutter, and his cheeks would blush when you’d lay your head on his shoulder, a familiar friendly feat you’d perform after long hours in 30 Rock. He hated that he crushed someone who was taken; he never once stopped hating himself for that.

The car halted to a stop, Hader’s apartment complex sitting right outside. He eyed the cash monitor for the second time that night. In an instant, he paid the acceptable amount, tipping the driver for good measure. Almost standing up before remembering how you had fallen asleep against the window.

He huffed anxiously, wondering how on earth he would do this. The driver was obviously tired and not pleased with the hold-up between his departure towards his own comfy mattress. Grabbing his stuff, he slipped out of his side before going around to opening your door.

Your figure slumping towards the pavement before he scooped you up in his arms. Internally cursing himself if you were to wake up, and want him to rid you of himself at once. Instead, you peeked one eye open, his body heaving anxiously. Y/E/C peeking up at him in dazed confusion, before murmuring something and nuzzling deeper into his hold.

It was a skill that he hadn’t perfected, getting someone into his house, without making much noise. Not to mention the fact that you were asleep in his arms, chest rising in perfect rhythm. He nudged the cab door closed and made his way up to his apartment door. Victoriously managing to slide his hand out from underneath you and into opening his front door.

Slipping into the building, he quietly kicked the door closed behind him. You only stirred, which promptly stopped him dead in his tracks, before continuing on towards the spare bedroom he owned.

Gently he laid you down onto the bed, your body curling up at the contact of the comfortable mattress. He smiled before digging around to place a blanket over you, fitting it, so you were well adjusted to sleeping.

His heart heavy and mind slowly beginning to beg for sleep, his feet padding towards the door of the guest bedroom. That is until he heard a rustle and a soft murmur escape your lips.

“What was that, Y/N? Did you say something?” he wondered aloud, his eyes trying to adjust towards the room now blanketed in darkness.

“It’s-just, I’m not used to sleeping alone anymore, you know? I’m so tired, though, could you stay until I fall asleep?” you admitted softly, playing with the sheet covers on top of you.

Bill’s eyes widened into the size of saucers; he didn’t see this coming. He shook his head before quickly nodding in your direction; you yawned without much thought and laid back, dozing off.

He stood there absolutely puzzled on what to do, except stare, which was definitely not inappropriate whatsoever. His eyes darting anywhere in the room, but you, he focused on an old rocking chair that his mother gave him when he first moved in.

It looked comfy enough. It would do, if that’s what you wanted, that’s what a friend would do. God, he hoped that’s what a friend would do in this case scenario.

The chair creaked noisily, and he cringed every single time until you stirred once again, thrusting your hand upward into the air. He sat puzzledly until your finger flicked up and down to signal him to join you.

He gulped, “please, Bill, just for tonight?” you said with a slight whimper.

Timidly he shoved the covers outward to create space, sliding into the bed, stiff as aboard. You couldn’t help but murmur something sleepily before rolling over beside him.

He froze, but he couldn’t stay awake forever. Your head now resting upon his chest, curling into his side, you smelled nice. He let you stay put before trying to get situated himself, sleep soon beginning to overtake him.

Friends totally did this, yep, of course, they did, Bill.

#@broadwayandnetflix #bill hader x reader #bill hader #fluff #bill hader x you #angst #alcohol #2020 #bill hader imagine #snl

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 3 years

Text

if you have a question about aussie slang, for a fic or whatevs, please just ask i don't know all of it, but we do have some fun words and sayings that are day to day statements

esp. the more rural you go

not everyone has the full accent though, because you do get a lot of pressure at work to come across... professional or whatever.

the only one i've never been sure of being an Actual Phrase, or if it Became A Phrase after popularisation on a tv show, is "Stone the Flaming Crows" bc a dude from Neighbours used to say it frequently.

examples of day to day stuff i can think of right now

mad as a frog in a sock (angry about something, went off, off the shits)

mad as a cut snake (usually means 'they're nuts', but can also mean they exploded with anger, usually contextual)

she'll be right (it's fine - can be a flippant statement, can be reassurance, etc)

drongo / galah - (idiot, not very smart, wanker, etc)

dunny = toilet

thunderbox/outhouse / long-drop - usually outdoor toilet

dry as a nun's nasty / dry as a dead dingo's donger (I am thirsty, or It Is Hot AF/we need rain so bad)

chuck a u-ey (do a u-turn)

Oi! (Hey I want your attention/i was surprised, general exclamation, stop that, you are in a lot of fucking trouble mate - depends on the tone of voice and volume) like "OI!" says aunty ruth has just found her dentures in jello and she knows you did it, etc

Bugger off (go away, or sometimes a statement of disbelief)

Yeah nah /Nah yeah (can mean yes, no or maybe depending on what was said directly before the statement)

you cant pull the wool over my eyes - you can't lie to me like that / i can see you are not telling the truth

shut your gob / put a sock in it / put a cork in it - (shut up / shut the FUCK up / close your mouth or i will shut it for you) depends on tone

Ya wally (you idiot)

Roo = kangaroo

o = can be affixed to anything to shorten it at the servo - gone to the service station, arvo - afternoon, smoko - morning tea, bottlo - where the grog is

goon/goonsack - wine in a box

grog - alcohol

stubbie - beer, ususally

boardies - board shorts

rashie - swimming shirt,

slip, slop, slap - ancient proverb for avoiding sunburn. singing pelican.

thongs - footwear

sheila = female / woman, don't hear this a lot at the moment tbh except in certain contexts or from specific people

'Getting rowdy' = things are heating up, people are riled up, a fight is about to/has just broken out, etc.

DJ's like a mad cunt = one very specific meme about a bad PM we had like 10 years ago. i can't tell you how many PM's ago, it's been game of thrones here lmao

Beyond the black stump / Out whoop-whoop / references to timbuktu (quite a distance away)

strewth!/crickey!/bloody hell - (exclamation of surprise, expletive replacement, etc)

flat out like a lizard drinking (tired / drunk / exhausted / sleeping)

pull a harry holt - (I've heard a dozens variations of this one, it means Go Missing / Disappear, often used as a joke. PM Holt went swimming one day and disappeared)

have a stickybeak (to poke your nose in/investigate/look around)

chuck a wobbly/throw a tanty/chuck a tanty/throw a wobbly (throw a tantrum, i have legit never seen anyone successfully deescalate a situation by telling someone not to chuck a wobbly or throw a tanty, go figure lmao)

bogan - (very specific kind of low-income, generally white, people. sort of like rednecks, but with more stereotypical aussie features like a mullet, singlet tops, sunnies, stubbies, etc. tend to fall under the liberal party ideology - who are our republicans... )

ankle-biters / rugrats / little takkers / gremlins / nippers - (kids, usually the littler ones)

tiff - argument, small fight (had a tiff, had a row)

pav = pavlova

piss/whizz/take a piss = going to pee

vegemite - delicious

Kiwi = New Zealander

Banana benders - the disrespectful bs that apparently other states call anyone living in Queensland, the wankers

station - farming areas that have sheep or livestock usually, have farmhands etc.

dole bludger(s) - (anyone on Centrelink, whether they want to be or not, with no other employment. but like, a lot of people on centrelink have a job that does not cover enough and need additional financial supports to meet a minimum wage, or are students or apprentices, etc. there are people who go on centrelink on and off to avoid engaging in the jobseeking stuff, they are the real dole bludgers, but a lot of richer people tend to call anyone on 'welfare' bludgers)

don't you come the raw prawn with me - (do not lie to me / don't try that shit with me, mate / I wasn't born yesterday /etc)

dak/dack - to dack someone is to come up behind them and yank their pants down (or skirts). Often taking out your boxers, too.)

budgie smugglers - (speedoes, male swimwear)

togs/toggs or cozzie (swimwear, any kind. cozzie = costume)

mozzie - (mosquito)

better than a kick up the backside /better than a kick in the arse - (pretty self explanatory, one of those phrases parents use to get slightly hurt kids to start laughing and/or coworkers to commisserate about new work rules, etc)

I wouldn't piss on (name) if they were on fire - (self-explanatory, you hate them, or they're a useless tit or an insufferable person /a suckup etc, and you would gladly hand them a match)

one for the road = getting a drink for the road, usually. can also make a joke of it like, "one last piss for the road" = I'm going to the bathroom before I leave

here's your handbag, what's your hurry - probs not an aussie phrase but a common joke in my family

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

So like, there's some words and items from Australian Indigenous culture that often get used wrong in stereotypical characters, like saying 'gone walkabout', using 'cooee', making digeridoo jokes, and making some really uncomfy 'savages' statements can be very disrespectful. You might want to go looking into Australia's fucked up policies and historical (and only recent) situations before starting any arguments about this stuff... in many ways it mirrors the cruelty of american colonisers to native american peoples, etc.

Avoid some phrases. Your character gone to cool their head? He's gone off on to soak his head, or he's on his bike (gone away) but he'll be back... You can use 'Oi, dickhead!'

Please don't mock the names of towns or places, they are often the names from the traditional custodians and inhabitants.

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Random things:

We drive on the left side of the road, driver's side reversed.

More of our cars are automatic than manual. Utes aren't atypical, but bigger vehicles are out in rural areas because more than a few of the rural roads are poorly maintained or dirt, with potholes that yoyo your soul into your body.

If you have a character on a long drive on a non-highway, or rural road: +if you are on a one-lane road and someone is comingthe other way, you both move half-on, half-off; for big vehicles or trucks, you can choose to pull off completely and stop. Just for safety, esp. in rain, fog, mist or late at night. +at one-lane bridges, you have a give way sign on one side. if you want your characters to have a moment of 'pause to look at each other while driving' or 'a quiet moment of reflection', have them wait for another car or truck to pass from the other side. These can be a few metres long, to like, a really long bridge. +They may pass markers that say 'flood level marker' with numbers of 2, 3 or 5 metres. Could be useful to remark on if your fic needs a reason for them to have a crisis. +Bushfire warning signs (from Low to Catastrophic) are frequent +Animal Crossing signs are very frequent, and often have a wildlife rescue number on them +Water restriction signs are in most small towns, they range from levels 1 to 6. This can change what the characters are allowed to do with water in little towns, etc. +You may occasionally find a small servo and one or two houses. +pubs don't open/won't serve alcohol until after 10am. the joke has always been, 'beer on your cornflakes' but you will never be able to actually get that unless you preplanned the night before in your hotel room. +Around dawn and dusk, a lot of animals like hares, kangaroos, wallabies, sometimes echidnas and koalas and little numbat things, and snakes and bushmice will be close to the road. Sometimes dashing across. They do not react logically to cars approaching, and will leap out at random. Hares do this zigzag nonsense. If you need the character to hit the brakes frantically, or swerve, this is a good reason. If you are ever driving here and see an animal on the side of the road, flip lights to low beam, slow down and watch to see how they react. If you can. If there's a truck blaring down on you, you may not be able to.

+Emus are in more rural areas. Echidnas sometimes appear on fringes of towns though.

+Kookaburras are a lovely creature, I have rescued a few and they are nice... but their laugh is very grating when it goes off super early in the morning. They eat snakes (good) and baby birds (not so good).

+Lots of snakes round here. LOTS. Carpet Snakes are pretty common, red-belly black snakes, eastern brown (big danger!!!), whip snakes have declined in my region, keelback snakes, this one black and white banded one we found deceased, etc. Snakes can climb, snakes can SWIM. Putting something that stinks around a campsite MAY help, but not always.

+Never go swimming in a dam you don't own, and that hasn't been checked, and if no one knows where you are. How deep is it? What's on the bottom? How stirred is the water? etc.

+Kangaroos CAN drown you. They have perfected this attack, and will do it to humans, dogs and other pursuers alike. They can also eviscerate you with their hind paws or shatter your ribs with a kick. The 'boxing' they do is exceptionally violent. This seems to surprise people, but like, giraffes can kill each other by slamming their heads into each other, you think a 7 ft swole motherfucking cryptid can't do harm? They can be lovely tho, if they trust you. But DO NOT GO PETTING WILDLIFE.

+Dropbears, austrilanicus vericanthus bitus, are real. We do make jokes about them, but they are a Problem. The pee on yourself thing won't ward them off, that's more about working out which tourists are the most gullible (and if they run with it, the moistest) lmao. Akubras and other thicker-layered headwear,

+We have wild dogs and feral pigs. Do not fuck with the feral pigs, some are HUGE, and no... they're not just pigs who escaped farms, these are MASSIVE motherfuckers who will Get You if they See You. Rustling in the night outside the tent? Good Luck.

+Koalas should not be picked up directly. They have claws, and a lot of them have chamydia. I mean if a character saves one in a fic that's fine I guess, but like... someone's getting antibiotics after that lmao. They are bigger than you think, dumber than you think, and sometimes they have to be chased across a highway with a windscreen cover bc they're not very bright and keep failing to climb metal fences, lmaoooo

+Towns of about 20-30k will have more shops (some franchise, some local owned), servos, fast food places and usually at least two to three shopping centres. Usually small level entertainments like a cinema, or local groups. +Towns with 10-20k, may have one or two major shopping centres, servos (tracks and RVs catered to), possibly a maccas, and the majority of stores will be local-owned. May have a cinema, but not one that has the newest releases. Local council may have more festivals, or 'that one thing they're known for'. +0-10k towns have a small local store, prices usually a bit higher. A servo, often with capacity for trucks. Local festivals. Characters can cop a bit of side-eye in these places, esp. if they don't fit the traditional ideas or are loud/violently american. +Grey nomads are a thing. Old people with fancy caravans who drive So Slow, and move all around aus. Several refused to stop during covid and it was like, WHO DO YOU THNK WE'RE TRYING TO KEEP ALIVE BY STOPPING YOU MOVING THROUGH MULTIPLE TOWNS???

+Some rural areas have legit red dirt, its always super cool to look at. Some places have light brown to dark brown, some have more chalky colours or yellowish dirt. Depends.

+Reminder: Australia has very specific gun laws, if your character/s have weapons then they may need to be sneaky or store them specifically in the vehicle. Although if you're talking about like, mad max type rules, then who cares. But if you have them get into a gun fight in a town, the police will come, etc.

Dunno, just ask if you have a question... just trying to think of random things to paint a picture if you have a character over here for a roadtrip or mission or whatever.

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Worth It- Pt. 2

Read Part 1

Summary: The reader has a brief encounter with Sean.

Characters: Marcel x black!reader, OMC x black!reader, Klaus x black!reader????

A/N: This part was really fun to write. I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I did to write it. Also, your girl is feeling a bit confident writing for Klaus so more fics with him might be coming soon. Happy holidays!

“Listen just tell momma and daddy that they either need the get with the program or get left. Because a man as fine as Marcel Gerard is mmph!” Your sister, Bianca emphasized with a chef’s kiss. She was probably the only one in your family, who approved of your relationship with Marcel. Bianca always said love is love and anyone who tries to stop it is just bitter.

“But I do say, you should get a little taste of Sean. Marcel is a refined gentleman, but Sean is hoodnificent! Let him crack that back at least once.”

You stopped gathering the herbs around your shop, to pinch Bianca’s arm for suggesting something so outrageous. “Girl, are you crazy? Marcel will have the boy’s head on a stick, and I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“FIONNNE!” Bianca commented.

Both of you were too busy arguing with each other to hear the door chimes, but the voice that spoke got your attention. “Indeed, Marcellus would have the boy’s head on a stick. I taught him well.”

“Klaus, what are you doing here?”

He lingered around the shop, touching little trinkets, trying his best to intimidate you. “Imagine my surprise when I walk downstairs to see Diego and Thierry knocked out and you missing.” Now he was dangerously close, whispering into your ear, wrapping one your curls around his finger. “I do believe Marcel instructed you that you couldn’t leave the house without supervision.”

“Girl, add him to the list too. I bet he does all types of nasty things in the bed.” Bianca whispered into your other ear.

Klaus maneuvered his head around you to look at Bianca. He was giving her that famous smirk of his. “Would you like to find out?”

You moved in front of your sister to block her view of Klaus, because she would definitely take him up on his offer. “Nuh uh. None of that, you hear me?” You pointed at the two. “Anyway, the reason I ditched the bodyguards is that I have a business to run. A business that is frequented by witches. Witches hate vampires. So, don’t you think two vampire bodyguards, especially two that are Marcel’s best friends are bad for business?”

“Ok, then I’ll stay. I don’t need to suffer through Marcel’s groaning about how you were left unsupervised.”

“Oh no, you’re not! The witches hate you even more!” Your protest went unanswered as Bianca asked about his baby and he proceeded to show her pictures. Both ignored you, so you just went about your business as usual.

Customers would walk in and do a double take once they saw Klaus. Some would try to leave, but Klaus told them to ignore him and some would get over it and listen to him, but with others Klaus had to calmly threaten to remove their head from their shoulders for them to continue to shop. You didn’t know if you should be mad or grateful, but at the end of the day you were still making money.

It was getting close to closing time when a last-minute customer walked in. You were busy stocking the shelves, so you didn’t have a chance to see who it was. “Welcome, we’re about to close in ten minutes, but I can help you with whatever you need.”

You felt a tap on your thigh, and you looked down to see probably one of the most beautiful chocolate men you’ve ever seen. “I need you to get down, cher before you hurt yourself,” said the stranger. Before you could reprimand him for touching you, he put his hands on your hips and pulled you from the shelf.

“Who the hell do you think you are putting your hands on me?” Klaus watched the scene closely but didn’t intervene. He knew you could hold your own and would only get involved if necessary.

“I’m your fiancé,” he smiled, revealing a bottom row of a gold grill. Bianca was right Sean is hoodnificent. His attire was all black accented by gold jewelry. He had on a turtleneck and a gold chain and the Lord knows you’re a sucker for that combo.

(Sean’s face claim)

You just noticed he had two other witches with him when Marcel, Thierry, and Diego burst through the doors. Sean lifted your hand to his lips, “Until we meet again, chérie.” With a blink of an eye him and the other witches disappear.

“Search the whole damn Quarter! I want him found!” Marcel ordered Diego and Thierry. When his eyes met yours, you knew you were in deep shit. He was at the level of pissed off that he didn’t even acknowledge Bianca or Klaus. He just grabbed your hand, shoved you into the car, and drove to the Mikaelson’s.

“Are you going to talk to me or continue to give me the silent treatment?” You were back at the manor, sitting at the dining table watching Marcel pace back and forth. He hadn’t said a word to you since you were in the car.

Nodding to yourself, you got up to leave. “Ok, the silent treatment. Let me take my black ass home then.”

Marcel moved in front of you and back you into your seat. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Oh, ladies and gentlemen he talks!”

“Stop fucking trying me, Y/N.” Marcel warned you.

“Stop treating me like a fucking child then, Marcel!” Granted, you didn’t listen to his instructions, but you really tried. You lasted 3 days before you started getting antsy and tired of constantly being followed. Today was the sixth day when you made your escape and you felt that you could finally breath. “I can’t do it Marcel. I’m not meant to be locked up like some criminal.”

“You think that’s what I’m doing? All I’m trying do is save our relationship!”

“Like you do with New Orleans? Trying to stifle me and make me follow your rules? You know why my parents hate the idea of me dating you? Its because you ran the wolves out the quarter and forbade any witch from doing magic! You can’t control people like that. Its not right!”

“And your parents making you marry someone against your will is not the same?” He asked, getting closer to you.

Sneering your face, you replied, “Well, if you weren’t such a power-hungry asshole, they wouldn’t be making me.”

Marcel rolled his tongue around his mouth. “That’s how you really feel, huh? After knowing why, I forbade the witches from using magic?”

You cupped his cheeks, showing the first sign of affection since the incident at your shop. “I get why. You did it to save Davina but know she’s safe and you’re still trying to control everyone. New Orleans does not solely belong to just the vampires, or just the wolves, or just the witches. It belongs to everyone. But everyone is too damn selfish to see that. But hey, do what you gotta do. I’m gonna go to bed if that’s alright with you.”

Before you walked off, Marcel gave you a soft peck to your lips and murmured good night against your lips. No matter how pissed off he was at you, he couldn’t go without telling or showing you that he loved you.

“Now that’s the Queen of the Quarter,” Marcel heard Vincent say. Him and Klaus were standing next to each other, smirking at Marcel.

“How long have you two been listening?”

“Long enough to know that you better smarten up or you’ll lose the lovely Y/N to that witch or to someone more dashing.” Klaus informed him.

He ran up to Klaus and punched him in his jaw. “I’m not in the mood, Klaus.” Klaus got up and chuckle at him, not even mad that Marcel punched him.

“I can’t help it if your girlfriend is so charming.” Klaus teased some more.

Vincent shook his head and got in between the two vamps, before a real fight broke out. “Can you not antagonize him, man? Dude’s already on edge.”

Klaus sidestepped Vincent to get to Marcel. “Nope. Not until he tells us the real reason, he’s so mad.” Klaus circled Marcel, trying to gauge his reaction.

“He’s pissed because Y/N left, plain and simple.”

Raising a finger and ticking his head no, Klaus replied, “No, that’s not it. We all expected Y/N to break out. A woman like that, you can’t keep caged in.” Klaus stopped circling Marcel and stood in front of him, staring him down with a condescending smirk. “I wager the King of the Quarter was upset of the sight he saw tonight. It was but for a fleeting moment, but there, nonetheless. Y/N was intrigued by her witchy suitor. Before he thought of the witch as an annoyance, but tonight proved he might be more competition than he hoped for. Am I right?”

His nostrils flared as Marcel listened to Klaus correctly pinpoint his anger. When Marcel saw Sean’s hands on you and you not being immediately turned off made him worry. Sean was obviously closer to you in age and you both had similar upbringings. But the thing that worried Marcel the most was the one thing Sean could give you that he couldn’t, a baby.

“If I’m not back by the time Y/N wakes up, tell her I’m out doing business.” Marcel informed Klaus. He had to find and kill Sean before he could steal you away from him.

Tags: @twistedcharismaaa @l-auteuse @thickemadame @artsninspo @titty-teetee @cocooned-butterfly @dannixchristian

#marcel #marcel gerard #marcel x reader #marcel x black!reader #marcel gerard fanfiction #marcel gerard x black!reader #marcel gerard x reader #the originals fanfic #the originals fanfiction #the originals #black!reader #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #klaus mikaleson #klaus mikaleson x black!reader

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kenzieam · 4 years

Text

Save My Life - Chapter One

@jewels2876 @moonbeambucky @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt @badassbaker @pinknerdpanda

I know I’m forgetting people, sorry. If you want in, hit me.

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Warnings: Definitely M. Language, violence, adult situations, graphic mentions of horrible things, traumatic death and descriptions.

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

!!!!!TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!!

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

Paramedic Bucky Barnes has seen it all and it’s definitely taken a toll on his mind and body, witnessing senseless death, all but wading through it at times as he is the first responder to so many ghastly accidents and mishaps. The widow of one of his former patients haunts him long after his brief, chaotic contact with her and destiny conspires to cross their paths again. Can the broken man and grieving woman find peace together?

Feedback is life, y’all.

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

EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER

With a growl and a groan, Bucky rolled over onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes. His body throbbed in a way that, while unwelcome, was far from unpleasant and he reached down, palmed his aching cock through the plain black boxer briefs he usually slept in.

It was so much easier to stumble to the shower if he only had to tangle with briefs, not try to pull a t-shirt off his muscular frame, it wasted precious seconds that could be better spent gasping for breath under the spray, hands pressed to the wall and bowed forwards, water washing away the nightmares that had torn him from uneasy sleep to begin with.

The dichotomy wore at him, even as he relived the horrors of her husband’s messy final moments of life, his body yearned for her, his cock hardening while his mind played the reel over and over, the sightless eyes, the crunching of the man’s ribcage beneath his hands.

There was no use fighting it, he’d tried so many times, only to lose every battle.

His pleasure crested, peaked and he groaned in release, his cock pulsing thick ropes of his seed onto his heaving stomach but the physical gratification didn’t touch the emotional turmoil and he dropped his hand with another groan, squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth until the sensations faded, both the ecstasy and the guilt.

Finally, he moved, hauling himself off the bed, off the tangled, soaked sheets and grimaced; the evidence of his twisted mind drying on his belly. Stumbling over last night’s jeans he shuffled into the bathroom and turned the water to scalding, scowling at his face in the mirror, scrubbing a hand over his stubble.

Would he finally get his shit together today? What compelled him, day after day, to continue like this? Sure, not every call ended the way that one had, but the good ones had long stopped overpowering the bad, their shadows too dark to chase away.

His phone jangled, clashing with his already raw nerves. Would such a simple sound ever stop eliciting such a heart-stopping response in him? He reached for the receiver, his seed still painting his belly, pulling at the downy hair there as it dried and silently held it to his ear. The voice on the other end knew he was there.

“Hey.” Steve said quietly.

“Hey.”

“Is today the day?” The day you stop this, quit the job that’s slowly killing you and start putting yourself back together again?

Bucky exhaled, a harsh yet anemic sound. “No, not today.”

Steve, his partner of eleven years, the man who usually drove the ambulance while Bucky worked so hard in the back, sighed quietly. Closer than brothers, he could read Bucky like an open book, but it went both ways and Bucky could hear the small smile on his face too. Although it was slowly killing both of them, there was nobody they’d rather die beside.

“See you at the station?”

“Yeah, an hour.”

“Coffee.”

“Your turn.” Bucky grunted, slamming the receiver down. Their shorthand baffled most, pissed off others, but you couldn’t be stripped bare emotionally in front of someone for over a decade and not connect like that.

One last lingering glance in the mirror, a brief grimace at the haunted cast in his blue eyes, then he continued into the shower, letting the water wash away both the sweat and the tears.

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

“Still having nightmares?” Steve asked, glancing Bucky’s way before returning his attention to the road. On their way to a frequent flyer found semi-conscious and, no doubt, more than semi-intoxicated, sprawled on the ground outside a local McDonald’s, there was a mild sense of urgency but an even larger sense of ‘same-old, same-old’ weary acceptance.

“Never stop.” Bucky replied shortly, barely looking up from poking listlessly at the computer screen mounted on the dash.

“About her?”

Bucky exhaled, eyes falling closed until the pain, while by no means gone, diminished enough to allow him to draw the next breath. “Yeah.”

“Man, that was over a year ago and you haven’t seen her since. What gives?” Steve demanded, slapping the steering wheel with the palm of his hand before cursing under his breath and hitting the sirens again to persuade a stubborn car out of their lane.

Bucky mused that he’d probably hear those god-damned sirens in hell.

“I don’t know-”

“Her husband died-”

“I know!”

“And I’m sure the last person she wants to see is the guy who was covered in his blood literally crushing the man’s ribs!”

“I know!” Bucky bellowed, slamming his fist on the dash then pulling it back with a grunt to cradle against his muscular chest. He’d need the full use of his hands, both massive paws that somehow could be so gentle and precise while intubating or placing an IV line, to deal with the patient they were now pulling up on.

“You using again?” Steve asked, voice low, bordering on a mix of angry and disappointed.

Bucky turned away, opening the door and jumping out before the bus had come to a full stop.

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

Lev glanced around briefly before dropping her eyes again. She felt supremely uncomfortable here, despite the fact that she was one of the more in-control attendees; she wasn’t weeping ceaselessly into a handkerchief, or burying her face in her hands while her shoulders shook, or muffling her wails on the shoulder of the person beside her. She was keeping it together.

Wasn’t she?

Eighteen months since Clint’s violent and unexpected death and this was her first meeting for grieving survivors, held in an aging school gymnasium that smelled like old socks and even older sweat, the wood floor marked and scarred with years of abuse.

Her friend Wanda had finally put her foot down, after a year and a half of back and forth, of, ‘I’m fine, just tired’ excuses and tearful limbo and all but dragged Lev to her doctor, where the kindly soul who may or may not be hiding pain just as visceral as hers and therefore knew what he was talking about had suggested this place, as an alternative to the pharmaceutical option that had been the first choice, and rejected so vehemently by Lev to warrant it’s proposal.

She glanced around. The middle-aged woman who’d lost her husband when he’d choked to death right in front of her during their weekly Sunday brunch, three chairs over in the large circle; the man who’d suffered through agonizing minutes of his wife pleading for help over her phone, then her final screams of terror as her car’s throttle had malfunctioned on the freeway and she’d careened at top speed into an embankment, instantly dying but taking with her his unborn son as well, five chairs over; then…. Him.

Lev startled slightly, dropping her gaze before it could be returned. Her memories of that time were so scattered and chaotic, stained with Clint’s blood and the sound of that goddamn siren, but she remembered him, or more accurately, the pain in his supernatural blue eyes.

Built like a marine, massive and muscled, shoulder-length hair pulled back into a loose bun, clad not in his uniform but a simple red long-sleeved Henley and jeans, hulking and intimidating until you looked closer and saw the anguish, was the paramedic that had tried so hard to save her husband’s life that lifetime ago.

Her heart sped up and she focussed obsessively on her cuticles. She wished suddenly for Wanda, but she’d insisted on attending tonight by herself and consequently was now alone as a tsunami of memories crashed over her. The incongruity of smells: bitter antiseptic, raw panic and body expulsions, warm male musk and blood; the duelling opposites that had all but torn her in half: frightening, in-your-face reality as Clint’s blood dried on her face coupled with the dream-like quality of the whole drawn-out nightmare.

How did that man cope? Dealing with that life and ugly death daily? Was that why he was here now, slumped in his chair and listening to other lambs to the slaughter open their veins in wretched attempts to assuage the pain?

She was called gently upon to speak, to give her name and reason why she was here; what screaming banshee howled unending torment in her ears, but she shook her head, burrowing further in on herself and muttering a vow to make herself talk next time, no matter how uncomfortable.

An eternity and an eye-blink later, the meeting ended, and Lev stood stiffly, her body raw and pulsating with fresh grief. For lack of anything else to do, she wandered to the refreshment table, knowing she was far too shaky yet to attempt to drive herself home and picked up a pre-poured paper cup of juice and pack of generic cookies. She’d just sat at an empty table and touched the cup to her lips when a quiet, tentative voice washed over her.

“Hi.”

She glanced at him, quickly back down again. “Hi.” Her voice was stronger than she felt, and she was grateful for the support of the table and chair.

“May I sit?” There was a puzzling hesitancy in his voice, as if he expected screaming rejection, but Lev was too tired to push someone else away, it was too wearying keeping her own mind and body quiet.

At her nod, he sat, picking at his own pack of cookies, seeming to be warring with himself about something.

“I remember who you are, you know.” Lev added, watched his shoulder slump with mingled relief and trepidation.

“I didn’t know… if you…. did or not-” He mumbled, trailing off uncomfortably.

“Hard to forget that day.” Lev whispered. She hesitated before adding. “I never got a chance but… thank you… for trying.”

He nodded, jaw tight, not lifting his eyes from the table.

“How do….” She didn’t want to ask, but God, she did too. “How do you manage to do that… as a job I mean?”

He smirke humorlessly, gesturing with one massive hand to the assembly around them.

“Does it help?”

He shrugged. “More than the company counselling. A friend of mine suggested it a couple years ago; I try to come when I can but….” He cleared his throat. “What about you?”

Lev dropped her eyes again, puzzlingly embarrassed. “My first time. My friend… she made me see a doctor-”

He held up a large hand. Say no more.

“How are you sleeping?” He asked quietly, lifting his hypnotizing gaze to hers again, which she quickly averted, in parts shocked and soothed by the tractor-pull that seemed to emanate from his supernatural blue eyes.

The question stung somehow, and it was so much easier to bite at that then lay bare the devastation beneath. “How do you?” Even as the question left her lips she recoiled, horrified with herself and pressed her hand to her mouth.

He flinched, barely perceptively, but the dark rings under his eyes answered her.

“God, I’m sorry-”

He shook his head, held up a massive hand again. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not!” What was wrong with her, biting the first hand that extended any type of friendliness? “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“This place… feeling this way… it makes you raw.” He replied, glancing up at her before looking away and gesturing with a chin jerk to a nearby table. “Sweetest old lady you’ll ever meet over there, but once she comes here and starts remembering her husband’s death again, turns into an old hag.” He twisted the paper cup in his hands, completely engulfing it before taking a sip. “Later, she’ll sit there with a stunned look on her face, like she’s waking up from a black-out.”

“I don’t want to be an old hag.”

A faint smile touched his full lips, temporarily lighting up his unbelievably handsome face. “You’d never be.” A faint pink flush and he looked away again.

Lev suddenly couldn’t breathe. The room, the man across from her, were taking all the air and she stumbled to her feet. “I have to go.”

He watched her, face falling and tried to stand but Lev lifted her hand, an emotional traffic cop, and shook her head. “I’m fine.”

It was a lie, and both knew it, but he only watched sadly as she hurried out the gymnasium doors to the darkness outside, head bowed.

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

“You never answered me.” Steve spoke suddenly, breaking the silence in the bus as they took a rare break between calls, sitting in the parking lot of a local coffee-shop, trying to wolf down their breakfast sandwiches before the radio blared and re-established reality.

Bucky grunted, knowing what his partner was referring to but hoping that he’d drop it if he played silly buggers.

“James.” Shit, he was serious, using Bucky’s given name.

Bucky sighed, staring out the windshield. “It’s under control.”

“Is it?” Steve all but shouted. “Shooting H? Seriously, man. How do you have that ‘under control’?! What the fuck, James!”

“I don’t do it all the time-”

“Once is too many!”

“Fuck you. You got someone to come home to-”

“DO NOT put that on me, asshole. You’ve had plenty of women hoping for your last name, what the hell are you always waiting for?”

“I’m-”

“Stop thinking about that girl, it’s never going to happen!”

A bitter retort stung Bucky’s tongue and he knew if he spit it out it would poison their enduring friendship, weaken it just when he needed it the most but he was saved from sabotaging himself by the damned radio itself, the dispatcher’s efficient voice relaying maximum information with minimal syllables.

Glaring daggers at Bucky, obviously having a damn good idea what he had been about to say, Steve snorted angrily and grabbed the microphone, snapping an affirmative before slamming the vehicle in gear and hitting the sirens.

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

Levi was not at the next meeting and Bucky felt a curious mix of relief and disappointment. Steve was right, this was never going to happen and, even if it did, he had no right dragging this girl down into his shit, not when she was still trying to dig herself out of her own. But still, he was disappointed; she was the rare light in his darkness, had been since the moment he’d first seen her, even with all the chaos and horror around her, cradling her dying husband’s head in her lap, pleading with someone, anyone to help. When their eyes had locked, a visceral, physical jolt had shot through him, almost painful in its intensity and he’d become personally invested in doing all he could to help, if not the patient he’d been dispatched for, then her.

Anything for her.

He was a sad fuck.

He’d barely heard the meeting going on around him, the others whispering their shame and pain, the answering murmurs from fellow sufferers. He rarely spoke at these, was rarely called on anyway because the overseer, a thin, bantam rooster of a man named Tony, who still lost all confidence and swagger when remembering his dear wife, Pepper, who’d passed suddenly from an aneurysm a few years previous, knew who Bucky was and why he was here.

He had no personal stories of loss to tell, but shared the pain of every single death he witnessed, every patient he tried to save and usually ended up only managing to usher into the afterlife with some semblance of comfort anyway.

He left the meeting that night alone, curled up on the floor at the end of his bed and found a vein.

#au bucky barnes #au bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes romance #bucky barnes drama #bucky and lev #bucky and levi #bucky x lev #bucky x levi

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 5 years

Text

We Could Be Heroes

Attending a university on the border between Xadia and Katolis, Callum and Rayla have been secretly together for a year now. Coming clean to their families is one thing. Announcing their relationship to the public is another.

_____________________________________________________________

“You know, if you want to talk to her you have to actually talk to her.” Callum was jolted out of his stupor as Claudia brought him back to reality. “I swear, you haven’t been this bad since before we dated. You’ve been pining after her for a year; maybe it’s time to say something.” Claudia was smirking while sipping her hot brown morning potion; the hustle and bustle of the university cafeteria completely ignored by the pair.

“She’s an elf, Claudia. A Moonshadow elf, at that. You know how they feel about humans.” Callum shifted the eggs on his plate in an efforts to distract himself from Claudia’s prodding.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you like her. And she might like you.”

Callum couldn’t stop the awkward laugh as he began to look everywhere but at his friend. “Don’t say things like that in public. What if someone-”

"What, Callum? Figures out you are crushing on a girl you’ve shared classes with since your first semester? She’s pretty and clever, and, from what Soren says whenever he goes to the gym, really athletic. You’d be stupid not to like her. You’re a prince and on your way to become an archmage. She wouldn’t be getting the short-end of the stick by liking you.”

“She doesn’t like me Claudia. Nothing is going to happen between us.” Claudia sighed before reaching over and patting Callum’s hand. “Why do you want something to happen between?”

Claudia shrugged before turning her neck to look at Rayla. “Because I want you to be happy. You light up when you talk about her and smile more after you work together. She makes you happy, Callum.”

Callum blushed and looked down at his own cup of morning potion. “Don’t tell anyone, Claudia.”

“Soren knows.”

Callum nodded his head from side to side a bit. “Why am I not surprised?”

_____________________

Rayla was doing her best to discreetly look at the two humans a few tables away. Her frequent project partner, Callum, and his friend, Claudia. Rayla and Claudia did not get along at first, mostly due to Claudia using dark magic while Callum had somehow managed to unlock Sky magic. Claudia still didn’t see anything wrong with dark magic and it made Rayla, and every other elf in their vicinity, wary of her. The other reason they didn’t get along? Claudia wouldn’t stop bugging Rayla about Callum.

“You’re looking at that human prince again, Rayla,” Bandlr, a fellow Moonshadow elf hissed. He was just a bit taller than Runaan and covered in toned muscles. The sloping purple marks on his cheeks reminded Rayla of the scythes used during harvest time. He exuded power and arrogance with every little move he made and tended to have either a scowl or a smirk on his face.

“I’m doing no such thing,” she stated absently.

“You better not or your uncle will be pissed.”

“Is that a threat?” Rayla glared over at him and could feel the energy crackling between the two. They lived in the same small town and had known most of the same people since high school. For Rayla, it had been hate at first sight, finding his arrogance and knowledge of her life the biggest turn-off she had ever encountered. He was a thorn in her side that just wouldn’t go away, no thanks to the other Moonshadow elves at the university not wanting to kick one of their own out without ‘proper cause’. For Bandlr, it had been lust at first sight. He spent all his time with Rayla either antagonizing her or trying to charm her. He had once told her that he wouldn’t mind it if she came to him in a fit of rage, just so long as she did.

“Maybe. You know how to shut me up.”

“You’re right. I do.” Rayla leaned in a bit, Bandlr smiling wide as she did. He never saw the punch that went straight to his jaw. “Try to talk with a sore jaw, asshole. Don’t forget, I’m faster than you and I was trained by the best.”

Bandlr glared as he massaged his already bruising jaw. The other elves at the table let the two be, already used to Bandlr’s flirts and Rayla’s violent reaction to them. Sadly for Rayla, it only made him convinced she was a ‘challenge’ for the ‘taking’. “To be fair, Rayla,” interjected a girl with long braids, “you spend a lot of time with this Prince Callum. I don’t think anyone back home would approve. Just because our school is on the border of Katolis and Xadia doesn’t mean you can go fraternizing with humans.”

“Ugh.” Rayla looked up at the ceiling, rolling her eyes. “For the last time, back off. I’m going back to the library.” Rayla grabbed her things, roughly pushed her chair in and stalked off, but not before bumping into Callum and Claudia. “Watch it.” Callum simply nodded as he turned away from her while Claudia raised a brow. “Got something to say?”

“The sexual tension between the two of you is so thick I could cut it with a knife. Just tell him you like him.”

“Mind your own business, Claudia.” Rayla walked as quickly as she could out of the cafeteria and headed towards the apartment complexes off-campus. She continued to look behind her and to the sides as she walked. Rayla eventually stopped in front of a luxurious apartment building and entered the large glass doors. The human doorman smiled and greeted her.

“Another project with Prince Callum, Miss Rayla?”

“You could say that. He texted me that he’s on his way, so I’ll wait for him by his door.”

“Of course, Miss Rayla.”

Up the elevator she went and waited in front of a door on the top floor. It was one of only two, reserved for important dignitaries. ‘Fucking Bandlr. When is he going to get it through his thick skull to leave me alone?’ Rayla’s hand grasped her bag as she bit her lip. ‘They know I’m spending a lot of time with Callum. Who else has noticed?’ She was pulled from her thoughts by a hand softly grasping her’s. “Callum.”

“We going to do that project, Rayla?”

“Yeah, let’s get it over with.” Callum nodded as he unlocked the key to his apartment and let her in first. Rayla was always struck by how minimalist Callum kept the large space. The base of the room was obviously expensive while Callum chose to hang his own art and art that one of his fathers had done. Pictures of his family were dispersed among the opulence of the walls and floors. The furniture was a different story, obviously on the cheaper end, but well taken care of. Callum had felt guilty taking the extravagant room so he had asked for cheaper materials to make his space a home while he was at school. “No one would ever believe me if I told them your apartment was the definition of high-low.” Rayla deposited her bag on the chair closest to the door, grabbing Callum’s bag and doing the same right after.

“You’ve been telling people that you come here?” The slight bit of hope in his voice was clear as day.

“No, of course not. If I did, they might think something was going on between us.” Callum looked down at the floor, that glint of hope suddenly dashed. “They don’t have to know anything is going on.” Rayla didn’t give Callum a chance to nod before she had his face in her hands and her lips against his. Callum wrapped one arm around her waist and made sure his door was locked. Rayla backed him up to his couch and they tumbled down, with her landing between his legs and his other hand landing on her back. “I’ve missed you.”

Callum groaned as she began to nibble at his neck. “It’s only been a week.”

“Uh-huh. A week of not seeing other or texting…or those naughty phone calls you seem so fond of.” Callum gulped. Rayla sat up and began to take off her top. “Pants off. Now.”

“You don’t want me to romance you a bit?” He brushed his hands lightly against her stomach, causing her to quiver above him.

“Later. Now, I just want you.” Callum took off his pants and boxers and laid back. Rayla pulled off her shirt and her own pants and underwear. She quickly climbed on top of him and grasped his length. “I’m gonna go fast and I’m gonna go hard. Alright?” He nodded, reaching to grab her hips. She had a lot of pent up frustration in her and Callum knew by now that it was wisest to let her take the lead. Rayla inserted Callum within her. They groaned together as Rayla grinded on top of him. Quickly picking up pace, she leaned back so her hands were resting on his legs.

Not fully satisfied, Rayla came back up and grabbed Callum by his shirt to pull him up to her. She sealed his lips to hers, grasping his shoulders to give her better leverage. Callum ran circles on her hips with his thumbs. Rayla broke the kiss to nibble at his ear. “Ray…”

“Almost, Callum. Almost.” Rayla had never been shy about what she wanted from him and she wasn’t going to start now. She took one of his hands from her hips to rest right on her clit. “You know what to do.” A sharp nod led to Callum leaning forward and nibbling on her shoulder while circling her. “Ah!”

Callum moved his head to whisper a husky ‘I love you’ in her ear. She quietly repeated it back, locking their lips again. A few thrusts more led Callum and Rayla to completion. He gently laid back, taking her with him. “I missed you, too.”

As they lay on his couch, covered in sweat and panting together, he ran his hand up and down her back. Rayla snuggled her face into his neck, mindful of her horns. “Mhmm, that feels nice.”

“Why did you punch Bandlr today?”

Good mood broken, Rayla broke out into a scowl. “Ugh, the jackass was getting on my nerves. Threatening to tell Runaan about me looking at you.”

“Oh. Would…would that really be such a bad thing?” His hopeful tone had come back full swing and Rayla hated crushing it.

“Callum, we’ve talked about this. Just because the elves and humans are no longer at war doesn’t mean that we’re at peace.”

“I don’t want us to be a secret, Rayla. Not anymore. It was nice, for a while, but I want to be more.”

“What more do you want? We have dinner together, we’re exclusive, I spend the night often enough. What more is there?”

Callum shifted so he could look Rayla in the eyes. “I want you to meet my Dad and Ezran. Well, you’ve met Ezran, but I want you to meet him as my girlfriend. I want to meet Runaan and Tinker and hold your hand on campus and-”

“And what happens if it blows up in our faces?” Rayla closed her eyes to try to keep he anger at bay. This wasn’t the first time they had argued about this and she didn’t want him to know exactly why she didn’t want to tell anyone about their relationship. “You do realize that Runaan could pull me out of school, right? Just because I’m an adult in Katolis doesn’t mean that he isn’t allowed to make those decisions for me in Xadia. The press will hound us both. Why do you want to ruin what we have?” She began to wriggle out of his hold, frustration making her want to move far away from him.

“Why are you scared of what we have?”

“I’m not scared.” Rayla got up, pulled on her underwear and began to move towards the kitchen, Callum following her as he pulled his own boxers up. She went into the cabinet and got a purple glass out as she looked back at him. “I have my own glass here, Callum. I have a whole drawer of my clothes in your apartment. Anyone who looks closely enough at my texts would know that I’ve been deleting more than half of the ones from you. I keep a freaking toothbrush in your bathroom! Do you think I would do any of that, of this, if I was scared?” Her arms were wide and disbelief on her face. Why couldn’t he understand just how big all of that was?

He gave her an incredulous look as the same frustration that had taken over her began to seep into his voice. “Yes, because you and I are the only people that know that any of your stuff is here.”

“I thought you wanted to stay out of the spotlight-”

“Don’t change the subject, Rayla. It has never been about us going public with the world. It’s about telling our families. It’s ALWAYS been about telling our families. Do you think I like telling Ezran that there is nothing between us? I have never had to keep secrets from him before and I don’t like doing it now.” Rayla understood that. Ezran was understanding and had a big heart. She couldn’t imagine anyone felt good after lying to him, least of all Callum.

“And what about your dear Aunt Amaya? Doesn’t she hate elves?”

“She’s marrying a Sunfire elf named Janai. Try again.”

Rayla paused as she looked at him with furrowed brows. “Is she really?”

“It’s all over the news in Katolis. ‘General of the Katolian Army chooses to marry a general of the Sunfire Corps.’”

“I haven’t heard anything about it.” A rough sigh followed by a groan as she got her thoughts back to the topic at hand. “Callum, I want to tell them. I would love to tell Runaan and Tinker about you.”

“Then why can’t we?”

“You don’t see the way the elves look at you. Not just the Moonshadow groups, but all the others. You’re a human prince, even if it is by marriage. King Harrow has not hidden how much he considers you to be his son and you have a target on your back from anyone who doesn’t like him. On top of that, you’re learning primal magic. There are elves that think you’re dangerous because you are the first human ever to learn how to use primal magic without a primal stone. Do you think that you being with an elf is really going to make them think ‘oh, that Prince Callum isn’t such a bad guy? Sure, he’s learning how to use primal magic and is trying to unlock the ability to use all six primal sources, but damn, he’s dating an elf.’”

“So, me wanting to learn magic the right way and rejecting dark magic is the problem?” Callum’s hands were in his hair at this point as Rayla looked ready to throw her glass on the floor. She quickly put it on the counter before she broke it.

“No, Callum. The problem is that you’re human. There are elves all over Xadia that will never accept you, accept us, no matter what you do.”

“Why do you care about them?”

“Because I don’t want to come home to you dead! OK?! I don’t want to walk into your apartment, after we went public or decided it was okay to make-out in the library, just to find your body or to have you end up dead in an alleyway.” All of Rayla’s fears began to pour out of her. She couldn’t stop once she started and wasn’t sure she wanted to. Callum needed to hear why she was fighting him on telling anyone about them. “I was trained in the arts of Moonshadow elf assassins. I know of ways to kill you and make sure that no one will ever find out it was me. And you can bet that I’m not the only one that knows that. Bandlr would be first in line if we went public and if he doesn’t succeed, someone else will. Runaan has a lot of respect among Moonshadow elves, but there are still many more elves and humans who will target you. Your life isn’t worth it, Callum. Us telling our families will only lead to the wrong person finding out.” She was so furious she never saw him walk around the counter to stand in front of her.

Callum grabbed her shoulders and put his forehead against her’s. “Do you think I haven’t thought of that? Of course I have! Just like I have a target on my back, you will have one on your’s. There are people all over the Pentarchy who want elves to stay in Xadia and humans to stay in their kingdoms. There was outrage when Dad announced I was going to school right on the border. When I told a newspaper that I was going to learn primal magic and refuse to learn dark magic, the number of human mages who rioted…I didn’t know there were that many in Katolis alone. And it would probably get much worse if they found out my girlfriend was an elf.”

“Then why is this so important to you?” Callum cupped her face and stroked her cheeks. It was getting harder to look meet his gaze when he looked at her with so much love and adoration.

“Because I love you. And I don’t want to hide it anymore. I know my family will love you and their opinion is the only one that matters to me. Claudia and Soren already keep pushing me to confess to you and Ezran thinks of you as his big sister. I never, ever would have introduced you to Ezran if I wasn’t 100% sure I wanted to be with you. I want to meet Tinker and Runaan and tell them I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. We won’t know unless we try, Rayla. We’ll get through this. Together.”

Rayla sighed as she looked Callum in the eye. The desperation in those green eyes of his let her know that he was serious about this. “If we try, and I mean if, you’re going to have to learn a lot more about Moonshadow elf culture. History class is one thing, but you can really, really piss Runaan off if you do the wrong thing.”

“Like what?” Callum moved his hands up to lightly run his fingertips over the base of one of her horns, sending shivers down her spine as a gasp left her lips. The burn in her belly she had just worked off was back full-force.

“Like that. In any elf culture, you might as well have grabbed my ass while your tongue was down my throat.”

“Noted. Horns are only for behind closed doors. Anything else?”

“Stop stroking my horn and maybe I’ll be able think.”

Callum released her with a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I guess I can keep my hands off you for a few minutes.”

Rayla snorted as she lightly nudged him backwards. “We tend to spend a lot of time outdoors. Training is outside, lots of festivals and camping trips. It’s not unusual for families to spend nights when the moon is full in their yards. Weddings are outside, too, as are major parties, like birthdays, graduations, and anniversaries,” Rayla counted on her fingers. “Weddings tend to be the night before the full moon and the actual honeymoon starts on the night of the full moon. Something about the moon granting love and fertility and fidelity. When it rains, we go places that have large windows so we can still see the moon at night. Think you can handle all that time outside?”

“I’m sure I’ll make it work. I’ve had to rough it once or twice.”

“If by ‘rough it’ you mean spending time in the Banther Lodge, you are in for a rude awakening.”

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #the dragon prince #tdp #rayla #prince callum #this first chapter does contain adult material #we could be heroes #moonbase fanfics

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dovakhiindrabbles · 5 years

Photo

Story relating to photo above underneath!

“It’s almost dark, are you sure you don’t want me to join you?” Adnan kneeled down to reach Rosalie’s small size, his brow knotted with worry and lips sewn into a frown.

“Addy, the house is in seeing distance, and it’s not like Eldrims is some frightful beast,” Emeline ran a calming hand through his curls of untied hair and smiled. “If she’s not back when we’d like we’ll come by and get her ourselves.”

She glanced down at Rosie and raised her brows amusedly. “You hear that missy?”

The little girl nodded fervently, clutching the small basket of treats they’d bought in Solitude in her tiny fists. It was full of sweet rolls, braided bread, and even a lavender dumpling that Rosalie had resorted to giving up despite it being her absolute favorite.

“Yes mama!”

She softened like a sap at her daughter’s high little voice. “Then no dawdling, we don’t want those sweet rolls going cold now, do we?”

Emeline didn’t have the heart to admit that, living in the mountains, it wouldn’t surprise her if the desserts were already icicles. But the elf could warm it up anyways with that magic of his if he really wanted to.

“Mm!” Rosie shook her head and whipped around, the sound of crunching snow fading a tad more with each step she made away – both Emeline and Adnan keeping their eyes plastered onto their little girl until she vanished behind Eldrims’s heavy wooden door.

The inside of Eldrims’s cabin was dimly lit with candles that’d been free to flitter away to mere smoke but it was enough to see the cabinets, shelves, and books scattered about – only helped by the evening lights that spilled in through the windows.

A wolfskin rug brushed against her boots as Rosalie stepped further inside, finding Eldrims hunkered over in the room ahead, the craggy stone fireplace sending both warmth and light to encircle around him.

“Mr. Bedaleth!” She bounced to life and hurried forward to greet him, the heat of the fire welcoming her as she came closer. “We went to Solitude! I brought you some desserts from the market!”

Nothing.

Eldrims continued staring forward into the crackling flames, an eerie haziness in his gaze and a small puddle of bottles collecting at his feet, a nearly empty one was still cradled in his grasp in fact. He was utterly devoid of any and all feeling on the outside – something dreadful and horrifying brewing within.

Rosie wrinkled her nose in confusion, speaking slower. “Mr. Bedaleth...?”

He inched his gaze to her and took in a sharp breath. With a sting in his voice sharper and missing that playful hint, he spoke – slurred and unsteady. “What do you want Rosalie?”

“I just told you! I brought you some things-”

“No, no, I heard that part,” Eldrims scoffed, pointing at her and inadvertently dropping the bottle with a thankful ‘thud’ rather than a shatter. “I mean, what do you want? Why do you keep coming here? Why do you keep pestering me?”

Rosie didn’t entirely know what ‘pestering’ meant, but the coldness in his words told her it didn’t mean well. Nonetheless, she swallowed hard, refusing to relent. “W-We’re friends!”

“Friends? You are a child and I’m damn near as old as dust!” He shook his head. “Overblown nanny is more like it.”

Rosie puffed out her cheeks, reddening in frustration. “Don’t be so mean! Just tell me to go!”

But he didn’t. He simply stared at her, perhaps debating in his mind but not able to bring himself to send her off.

Did he want her to leave? No. Would he ever willingly admit that? Also no.

“It’s not like you’d listen anyway.” Eldrims cursed beneath his breath. “You’re just as bull-headed as her.”

He rose to his feet and staggered forward, catching his unsteady legs with arms wrangling for the dining table. If he stepped out into the snow he’d surely fall and freeze to death, he was so unaware.

“Who’s her?” Rosie set down the basket and followed after him – she was at least partially sure they wouldn’t be enjoying desserts tonight.

“Her? What do you-” Eldrims groaned, his back turned to little Rosie. “Oh. Her.”

He twisted around to face Rosie, snarling like a rabid but utterly confused animal. “Why do you care? It’s none of your concern!”

“You said her.”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Yes you did!”

“No, I-”

He paused. “I did... I said her...” He bit the inside of his cheek and closed his eyes, squeezing them tight like he’d wake up to reveal this all to be some terrible nightmare. “Anese... I can never rest, can I?”

His eyes opened and for a moment, he gawked at her like she weren’t the pesky little child that constantly knocked on his door but someone precious, someone lost in a life from long before but treasured all the same – like a memory one could only grasp for.

“Why won’t you leave me be...?” The question was asked weakly, barely above a whisper. “Aren’t I suffering enough as it is?”

Rosie didn’t quite know what to say.

With a laugh and pinch of his nose, Eldrims gave a miserable smile. “Of course a selfish ass like me would say that.”

“E-Eldrims...?”

He glanced back at her and his expression changed, understanding who it really was standing just a little way away.

She couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved.

“Who... Who is Anese?”

Eldrims hesitated, but whether it was because of the drunkenness or exhaustion it slipped through the cracks of his ever-growing wall.

“She was my niece. I helped my sister raise her.” His shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh. “She was around your age.”

Rosie lit up at the idea of someone her age being around. She could only imagine the fun the two could have together and all the places they could explore together! She thought she might burst with excitement! “You have family my age? Where is she? Can I meet her-”

“No. You can’t.”

He collapsed into one of the dining chairs and hid his face in his aged, weathered palms. “She’s dead.”

Rosalie gawked with wide eyes, her expression falling and head aiming low sheepishly. She shuffled her feet against the floor, the sudden weight of his words leaving the world feeling like it was dragged by cinderblocks. “O-Oh... I’m sorry...”

“A-Apologizing to me...?” Eldrims drew his fingers from his gaze and stared ahead coldly, lost in thought. “That’s awfully strange... it is my fault after all...”

“Her mother too – oh gods, Erisa – oh fuck.” His expression contorted and grimaced in every possible way imaginable, like he may shatter into a million pieces right there and then. “I killed them. I may as well have done it myself! I-I'm sorry, I’m so, so sorry...!” He crumbled against himself, his shoulders shaking with the sudden onslaught of sobbing.

Rosalie had never seen him cry before. She’d barely seen anyone cry before – she was fortunate enough to say it wasn’t a frequent sight, but it left her frozen, shell-shocked even. Her mind was both caught in whirl-wind and standstill.

But, for what it was worth, she did try something.

One step after the next, she came closer to the Dunmer elf until she stood not even an inch away. Rosie tugged at his sleeve, offering him a smile as he warily lifted his head.

“My mama says... accidents happen – everyone makes them. It’s... it’s not anyone’s fault...”

Eldrims gave something like a smile even though every other inch of him portrayed the exact opposite – he was full of contempt, and indignation and it oozed out as he spoke, lifting up her head as he pinched her chin.

“It must be wonderful to live in such blissful ignorance...” He scowled. “You know nothing.”

He tore himself away from her, yanking away her chin as he staggered to his feet, the light of the fire reflecting in his crimson eyes in a way that somehow left him appearing even more remote than before.

“You didn’t see the flames... how the people rioted against us – for what, some puny fucking thief that wasn’t even an elf. Some would’ve spouted about their tradition – others rambled about how the land was for Nords not-”

He glanced at her and then himself, biting the inside of his cheek. “not anybody else...”

Eldrims, even in his drunken state, prayed she’d never understand his words.

“They barreled into the slums like wild dogs – they had so many torches you could actually see for once in the night...”

He could still recall the fluttering flames peeking into his sight from the supposed safety of his home, how Erisa had joined him by the windowsill with wide, befuddled eyes at the sight of the approaching crowd.

“What have those bastards got twisting up their knickers this time?” She had muttered, more so with exasperation than true concern. Ulfric’s band of Stormcloaks always did find something to complain about amongst their privilege – like petulant children they misplaced their anger and were never satisfied, grappling for more than their little hands could ever carry. So instead, they’d simply placed all their burdens into the hands of the ones they crowded into slums – exploiting them for personal gain while staining the air with complaints of their very existence.

“Ranging from slightly cold stew to a major battle lost, the possibilities are endless,” He had mused, nudging his sibling, drawing her attention back. “Is Anese asleep?”

“I just put her to bed.”

“Good, it’s better she didn’t see this-”

“Didn’t see what?”

That child’s voice was just as bright and curious as the one who stood just a little way before him now. Her usually brushed and kempt hair was strewn about in drowsy curls that fell about her cheeks and dashed just above her groggy gaze.

“Anese, you little rogue, what’re you doing out of bed?” Erisa questioned, her words surely meaning to scold but inadvertently pouring with a sweet softness at the sight of her child, only half-awake and still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“I was thirsty...” She mumbled, yawning.

“You were...” Erisa laughed. “you were thirsty... by the nine,” She glanced to Eldrims. “She’ll wake up again in a few hours needing to piss too.”

“It’s almost like she’s a kid or something,” Eldrims nudged her side playfully. “Imagine that, huh? I’ll take her downstairs – I might still have some river-water in my flask.”

“Take a whiff before you pass it to my kid -- I know how you like your mead.”

Eldrims gave a dramatic clasp upon his chest in offense, beginning to back away. “Oh! You just had to hit it where it hurts, didn’t you? You act like I’m a bad influence!”

Erisa grinned with a glimmer of mischief only she could ever conjure – the only thing sharper than her wit, being her tongue. “I act like you’re a bad influence, cause ya’ are.”

“What slander!” He simpered, settling a gentle hand upon his niece’s shoulder, leading her to the stairwell where the floorboards creaked and were stained with age. “I’d be offended if it weren’t true. But lucky for you, I kind of like the little mouse.”

“I’m no mouse!” Anese had blurted, her tiny little hands coiling into indignant fists. At the time, it made Eldrims smile like an utter fool.

“Ah, of course. Aren’t I just a silly old man?” He ruffled her hair and swore his heart melted at the sound of her laughter, so sweet and gentle it out-rang any bile those outside could sputter. “Come on then little one.”

He had scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the steps that moaned beneath his weight but nonetheless, they made it, Eldrims speaking up as the sound of Nordic protests grew in their volume. She didn’t need to hear them.

“Oh, it’s slipped my mind... where did I put that damn canteen...?”

It was quite ovbiously on the dinner table, but he avoided it purposefully, his eyes teasingly scanning just about every other corner in his vision. Anese groaned in exasperation, grappling at her uncle’s cheeks in a desperate attempt to show him.

“It’s right over there! Right in front of you! L-Look!”

She let out a huff as he finally relented, gasping perhaps a little grandly than necessary, but her little face lit up with such pride, he couldn’t not do it. It would’ve been criminal!

“Oh, by the gods! You’ve found it! Anese, you’re a genius!” He peppered her face in kisses and she squealed in surprise, the two of them smiling so wide it should’ve hurt -- but it didn’t matter then.

“So then, let’s get you your water. You must be parched by now, aren’t you?” He set her down and she hung onto the end of his ragged shirt, full of patches and mismatched sewing -- for all the talents Erisa had, needlework wasn’t quite one of them.

“What does ‘parched’ mean?”

“Like thirsty -- you spend all those time reading books and you don’t know what parched means?” He shook his head. “Simply shameful!”

“Sounds like a dumb word.”

“Now you’re just being spiteful.”

He undid the canteen’s cap and did, albeit sneakily, sniff the inside warily. Fortunately, it was just water. He didn’t exactly want to admit his immediate reluctance.

“There we go! A whole canteen of water for the little rebel who should be asleep.” He pinched Erisa’s nose, snorting at how she wrinkled it in apparent protest.

“Not sleepy...” She mumbled incoherently as she took the flask as raised it to her lips, her ramblings surely bouncing off the metal insides but he nodded anyways like he could hear her crystal clear.

“Yes, yes, very interesting...” He muttered, raising his voice. Maybe her incredibly loud gulping drowned out the rest of the world, but Eldrims hadn’t exactly been willing to take that chance.

Since they’d come downstairs the yells had become louder and more enraged -- each spouted insult entwined with that much more hatred than the last. It was rare that they broke into the slums themselves, but now, he swore he felt the ground beneath him rattle against their heavy, vexed stomps. Even the sight of their flames grew nearer and nearer by the-

“They’re inside...” Eldrims murmured, only a chill managing to run down his spine -- his body could barely muster anything else in its petrified state. “T-They’re coming in...”

What could they want? What more could their hearts truly desire at this point?

He swore it couldn’t get any worse. That was at least until Erisa came stumbling down the stairs, nearly losing her footing had she not had a wall to tumble into.

“E-Eldrims!” She had cried, sweat beading down her forehead and matting her hair. “They’re... they’re coming...!”

“Who’s coming...?” Anese asked, lifting her lips from the canteen with eyes so bereft of the knowledge that weighed down the two before her.

“No one, no one but old dust bunnies!” Eldrims panicked and gave a smile a little too wide to be trusted as he smacked a hand over her mouth. “But you... you have to be quiet, okay? Not a peep!”

She attempted to make up some sort of sound beneath his palm. Eldrims couldn’t help but huff with his patience so quickly shortened. “There’s no time for your silly questions. Just let your mother take you to the cellar! You’ll stay there for a bit!”

Anese tore his hand away and pouted. “I hate it down there! It’s so dark and scary...”

“It won’t be for long. I swear on it,” He tapped the tip of her nose. “Besides, isn’t this whole place dark and scary?”

Anese didn’t laugh, but she smiled, and that was enough.

Eldrims rose to his feet and he and Erisa exchanged a knowing look. Whatever words she might’ve yearned to say became caught in her throat, instead falling to her fingertips as she pulled her brother into a hug, gripping him ever so tightly.

“Don’t get so fussy. I’ll be there to get you in a minute.”

“Please do.” She murmured. “Please.”

Eldrims chuckled. “If I promised, would that help?”

“No, you never keep them.”

Thinking back on her words, Eldrims despised how truthful she had been.

“I thought it’d only be a minute...” Eldrims muttered, glancing up at Rosie and seeing not a child but a mere shape -- he saw the entirety of the world around him as just that -- a mindless blending of colors to form something so utterly unfamiliar he could’ve ripped it all to shreds.

He could’ve ripped himself to shreds.

“I-I went outside to t-talk them out of it... that’s... that’s all I wanted to do...”

Eldrims had watched his family disappear beneath that horrid old door underneath the even more atrocious kitchen rug. Anyone searching for them would be far more disgusted by the poor interior design than anything else.

Gods, he had been trying far too hard to distract himself.

He raced to the crowd of angry Nords, the flame of their torches nearly blinding him in the process. Eldrims laughed sheepishly, having stopped the horde in a mix of pure confusion and curiosity.

“Oh goodness gracious! What on earth is going on here?” He cleared his throat, standing upright. “S-Surely there’s no reason for all this?”

The man who spoke to him had a surly voice Eldrims could only akin to rumbling gravel, his beard was thick and skin etched with the hints of oncoming age. He sold fruits. Eldrims knew of him for a nerve that left something to be desired. His name was Berid.

“Of course you’d say that. One of you elves has been stealing from us! They’ve taken my weekly earnings and many others!”

“W-Why couldn’t just send a guard for them? S-Surely you’ve got a description of some sorts?”

“If we knew what the thief looked like, they would be in prison! Not on your streets!”

Eldrims frowned, his brow becoming tight in a befuddled knot. “T-Then... how do you even know they’re one of us?”

Another man stepped forward, towering over Eldrims with an expression more grizzly than stone. He sneered at the very sight of Eldrims. “Only a Dunmer would ever stoop so low as to steal. You can’t even make something of yourself in your own quarter so you’ve got to take even more from us!”

Whatever temper Eldrims had been trying to simmer down broke through with the cost of his patience. His frown deepened to a scowl. “Don’t say my name like it’s an insult! And if you hadn’t noticed, it’s difficult to build anything worthwhile when you’re thrown to the scrapyard! We’re not even allowed in your markets!”

“Are you defending a criminal?”

“A criminal you can’t even describe! Don’t you know what they say about assuming? You’ve got no proof that they’re one of us!”

“All you grey-skins are petty little beggars anyways! You should be groveling on your knees in thanks for all we’ve given for you and those lizards!”

“Would you like a sacrificial lamb too? I mean sure, we’re treated like less than your mutts but I do suppose you could’ve just slaughtered us!”

“How fucking dare you! I bet you’re housing the rat!” The man leaned over Eldrims like a stature just a mere tug from crashing. He pointed out to Eldrim’s house with a piercing glare. “There! Search the place!”

Eldrims couldn’t even begin to describe the panic that soared through him then. Striking like electricity it coursed through every vein, every drop of blood that lived inside of him. He threw himself in front of the door with splayed arms and ragged breath.

“Wait! Wait just a second! P-Please!” He yelled, lifting his voice with that sense of curtness he’d lost so earlier before. He didn’t care how fake or forced it sounded, he was desperate. “Surely there’s another way we can resolve this! I’ve only got my sister and niece! No criminals -- I swear on my very life!”

The Nords stared at him coldly, the leader speaking up.

“And who's to say they aren’t guilty?”

Eldrims’s mind squirmed in a battle against his anger and desire to live to see the sunlight.

“My niece is a fucking child and my sister is a crafts potions! They’ve never stolen a crumb!” He swallowed hard. “Please, surely we can handle this as it should be!”

Eldrims wrinkled his nose, scrambling for any possible way to deter them. “They’re not even here now! T-They’re out! Visiting family! Far away from here!”

Berid eyed him carefully, pausing in thought. “... Is that so?”

“Yes! Yes, it is!”

“Then they ought to stay there.”

Berid took his torch and hoised it to the old wooden walls of Eldrim’s home and in mere seconds it lit up in viciously scalding flames. Eldrims’s whole chest crashed in on itself and he let out a wicked scream, hurling his fist into Berid’s stomach.

“How fucking dare you! T-That’s my home! My family-”

Blood trickled upon the edges of Berid’s lips, the man wiping away with a wound fist as he spoke.

“Aren’t here, isn’t that right?” He scoffed. “Do I look like an idiot? One thing you should know about Nords, elf, is that we’re damn good hunters. And if you can’t get the fox out of its den, you snuff it out -- it’ll come to you.”

Berid grinned. “Or die trying.”

In an instant Eldrims did all that he could to barge back inside his home, to rip off that dreadful rug and reach Anese and Erisa. He would’ve taken them anywhere, would’ve done anything just to have made it out of those walls.

But they grabbed him first.

The Nords wrapped their heavy fists around Eldrims and hauled him in the midst of the crowd like derelicts upon a fresh meal. They yelled insults like hymnals rained fists and kicks onto him relentlessly. All the while, the fire crawled further and further into his home -- into the bedrooms, the stairwell, the kitchen, and the cellar, eventually.

And despite all the other sounds pouring down from every which angle, Eldrims still managed to hear Erisa’s wails and Anese’s shrieks -- even above his own sobs. The only sounds he would’ve given everything to drown out, he heard the most clearly.

Eldrims fought until his heart gave out and his body was caked in soot and blood but it was of no use.

“It didn’t change a f-fucking thing...” He whispered. “T-They still died! They still fucking died!”

Eldrims’s legs trembled and gave out under him, he hit the floor with a ‘thud’ and scarcely missed his head slamming to the wood had it not been for his arms, shielding his tear-stained face. He cried like a child, uncontrollable and unrelenting he wept and howled even as his throat became dry like sandpaper -- hurting almost.

He deserved it, didn’t he? He deserved every ounce of pain the world could throw at him.

And yet, Rosalie still remained.

Eldrims threw up his head and scowled with more venom than any poison. His yell made the poor child’s blood run cold.

“What more do you goddamn want? Why’re you still even here huh? Get out! Get the fuck out before I burn you to ash too!” He curled his lip, digging his nails into the floor. “Before I kill you!”

Hurt rushed Rosalie’s expression for a moment before she swallowed hard, huffing with indignantly puffed out cheeks.

She made her way towards Eldrims with short, heavy steps and stared at him for a moment. There was more pain in those eyes of his than Rosie had known in her whole life -- like a story one could understand before they even opened the cover.

And without a word, Rosalie wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him.

“Don’t be so mean to yourself. It’s not right.”

Eldrims froze at the gesture as if he’d forgotten just what exactly a hug was. Yet all in a few seconds it rushed back -- all the warm embraces he’d shared when reuniting with his little niece in the evening or the small hugs he’d greet Erisa within the mornings when both were far too tired to say a word.

All at once he remembered what a hug was, and how fervently he missed it.

Eldrims flung his arms around her, pulling her close. He nearly squeezed the air out of her lungs but it was perhaps the most sincere and truest kindness he’d ever shown anyone in a long time.

He set her down delicately, and Rosie took his weathered old hand in his, squeezing it just like her mother would. She offered him a smile.

“I... I don’t think you’re so bad.”

Eldrims’s shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh. “How can you know that...?”

“Bad things happen to good people,” She murmured. “I-I fell and scraped my knee while exploring and it hurt so bad but it’s not ‘cause I deserved it! It... It just happened. I can’t change it, and I can’t get mad at myself for it.”

Eldrims smirked. “That’s a very different example.”

“I... I know. But I mean the same thing. What... what happened wasn’t your fault -- it was those bad people! And... and if I ever meet them I’ll knock their teeth out!”

He chuckled just barely and very softly. “I don’t doubt it. You’re a bit special that way...”

“What do you mean?”

Eldrims ruffled her hair and rose to his feet, the last few tears cascading from his chin and falling to the floor. Strange, he felt almost lighter, like a burden was released from him. He looked down at her, softening.

“You’re a good person, I mean. That’s rare, Rosie. Don’t let that change as you grow up.” He grinned. “Stay a little skeever, would you?”

“I won’t become some big boring adult!” She wrinkled her nose in exasperation. “I’m gonna do something great! Something huge!”

“Yeah? I’m sure you will.” He bent down for the wicker basket of treats and sat down beside her. Eldrims dug through the desserts to pull out her favorite: a lavender dumpling. “But would you first have a snack with a dreadful old man?”

Her eyes widened like saucers and she tapped her feet in anticipation, nearly hurrying to sit down, crossing her legs. She nodded. “Mm!”

She watched excitedly as Eldrims tore it in in half and promptly gave it to her, shocked at the speed in which she snatched it. The little child wolfing down the dumpling in an instant.

Rosie took one last bite and licked the last few crumbs clinging to her fingers before a thought came to her head. “Oh! Mr. Bedaleth?”

“Hm?”

She smiled. “You’re not dreadful.”

Eldrims cocked his head to the side with a snort. “But I’m old?”

“You said it first!”

“Touche.”

“But... you’re nice -- a nice, not super young man.”

That brought a laugh out of Eldrims. He leaned forward and pinched her nose in a fond little way he once did to his niece long ago -- the same sort of care still ever-present. The light of the evening fading away to bring forth the night in all its purples, blues, and starlight. For once, Eldrims didn’t dread it.

“You aren’t so bad yourself Rosie.” He grinned, truly earnest. “You aren’t so bad at all.”

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Eldrims just became president of the ‘adopted an annoying but well-meaning kid that won’t leave me alone’ club fdasfkldjafkjd

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this prompt! I worked super hard on it and I LOVE Eldrims and Rosie’s relationship! They’re one of my favorites!

Anyhow, I’ll be continuing on with Adnan’s side of Rosie’s family but any other questions about Rosie’s life -- past or present, or just about anyone in the Rosieverse -- I’d be more than happy to answer! Thanks a bunch, and have an absolutely wonderful day! <3

Rosie Bio

Rosie’s Parents (Emeline and Adnan)

Eldrims Bio

#Skyrim #rosieverse #oc: Rosalie #oc: Eldrims #Eldrims #Eldrims Bedaleth #skyrim the elder scrolls #Skyrim OC #OC #trigger warning: violence #trigger warning: death #trigger warning: fire #Rosieverse: Eldrims

19 notes · View notes

diningpageantry · 5 years

Text

Don’t @ Me

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43092371

Chapter 1/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 3118

Fic Summary: Teenage life is hard enough, but with the added weight of their lives, both Simon and Baz thrive online in a fandom for the British crime show, Gastrell, about the genius Huxley and his "flatmate" Sam. Through Tumblr, they find each other, and sink into something more than just being mutuals.

Chapter Summary: A shitpost is taken a little too personally, and an argument breaks out. In true Baz fashion, he seeks to prove himself right in the most ridiculous way possible.

BAZ

Morning routines are the most menial shit in the realm of existence of arbitrary tasks.

Everyone seems to have them, yet nobody really has a set one. For example, my step-mum has a long, seemingly pointless hour of simply facial cleansers, serums, and hair products. When I’d asked her years ago why she does it all, she shook her head and said “You’ll never be an aging woman, Basilton.”

I couldn’t quite argue with that.

Regardless, it’s a part of life. The routines. Wake up, morning routine, morning activity, eat, afternoon activity, usually afternoon snack, evening activity, dinner, night-time activity, sleep.

A boring, underwhelming cycle of the day.

Although, I suppose it’s shittier for me, since the homeschooling doesn’t give me a chance to do much besides sit and read. Of course, I have my car and I can drive off to whatever. Hell, father even suggested I get a job to occupy myself, but I don’t quite see the point given how much money we have (and the risk factors with moving around so frequently).

So, here I am. Finishing my classes in a matter of months, then having an entire year of pointless bullshit.

Needless to say, my entire day’s routine isn’t the most thrilling. Wake up at 10 on a good day, check social media and emails, then just lay here until I can’t wait to piss. Piss. Go to eat breakfast and get greeted by screaming children and my poor step-mum trying to wrangle them in. Go upstairs, go back online, see whatever’s on my dash, reblog some shit, then try to do something vaguely productive. Check Archive, check email again. Nothing’s on the emails, ever. Text Dev and Niall, who get awfully pissed since they are in school. Get more food. Eat. Bring tea upstairs, despite the disdained look from our maid (who hates collecting my piles of mugs). Write for a couple hours. Take an afternoon nap, if I please. Wake up and sit there (again). Maybe lonely wank. Go back to the bathroom, stare at myself in the mirror for a good few minutes. Sit on the toilet for half an hour for no reason besides the fact that my phone seems more interesting while sitting there as compared to sitting in bed. Sit then on the bathroom floor doing the same thing. Go back to my bed, listen to music on my phone and work on my laptop. Write, maybe scroll. Get dinner brought to me as they tut that I should be more active. Eat. Go downstairs for an evening workout (they’re right, I shouldn’t confine myself to my bed). Come back, do exactly what I do for half the day until I pass out somewhere around 3 am. Repeat.

Dream life for an 17 year old. Social life of a god.

Somewhat.

It’s shit to say (and sort of embarrassing to share) that there’s sort of a social media presence around me. Not quite the Instagram model bullshit, but based around fan life.

Yes, it’s a laughing stock. That’s where my popularity lies--a mixed grab-bag of various ages gathering around various platforms to enthuse about certain topics. And I’m somehow lucky enough to have the slightest bit of popularity here.

As in, a large following. A large, somehow active following.

It isn’t exactly thrilling as one would like to think. Sure, it’s fun to see a scattered group of regulars pop up, and I have my mutuals, but it’s a sad existence to sit around and make various shitposts with nothing better to occupy my mind. Or, at least, that’s what Dev and Niall tell me.

All in all, I blame Fiona. She’s the one who got me into the show, saying she thought the character was a bit like me. After I saw it, I found the three connections she’d grasped at.

Gay, dark-haired, and violinist.

As if that’s a rarity.

Yet, surely enough, I did love it. The cinematography, the characters, the storyline. It was intriguing--captivating.

It doesn’t hurt that the online community was still on the smaller side when I first got there. The show was only a season in when I made my blog, and I’ve stuck through all this bullshit to get me here. One of the regulars. Reposted everywhere, uncredited usually. Big fics, large interactions. Shitposts with thousands upon thousands of notes. I’m recognizable; a suggested name.

Don’t get me wrong, the attention is spectacular. I love interacting with people beyond this depressing household, and they’re usually fairly nice (usually) (except those ravenous for an argument). It’s just awkward to share at times when people ask why your mobile’s got 99+ symbols next to the apps and you just shrug and say “I’m shit at checking it” to avoid the conversation because most people see it as childish.

It’s a shame, really. Especially since I feel emotionally attached to these goddamn fictional fuckers.

I suppose that’s what makes it all the more personal, then. Even the shitposts mean something to me.

Which is what makes this is a long, winded way of saying fuck whoever’s arguing with me about whether or not Huxley is a fucking Ravenclaw. (He is. Hands down.) How’d I get here, staring at my mobile in disbelief at a brief back and forth post turned fight? Because it feels like a reasonable question to wonder.

I got here because, as almost all mornings, I woke up, opened my phone, read my notifs, then sat here, thinking of something. Anything. Then, in a tired haze, typed out a single text post on tumblr.

huxley gastrell is a ravenclaw send tweet

Following so, I went about my typical morning. Of course. Then--then--I check my phone as I’m going downstairs and I see it. I see the “@bi-sammy mentioned you in a post!” notif, then read the God-forsaken reblog.

@gaystrell op do you take criticism on your posts?

I frowned at my phone, typing out a quick response before tucking it back into my pocket.

@bi-sammy no.

What I hadn’t anticipated, though, was the reply I’d open up to soon after I’d started poking at my morning meal.

@gaystrell well too bad bc ur WRONG and ur opinions are UGLY

#he’s clearly a slytherin this is slytherin oppression #don’t tell me he and bryonie aren’t from a slytherin family

Now I sit, staring and completely awestruck at such a post. Now, I won’t deny Bryonie Gastrell is definitely, in all possible ways, a Slytherin. Cunning and ambitious as fuck, as any political spy may be, but fuck anyone who tries to dismiss Huxley’s clear Ravenclaw leanings.

It takes me a moment to fully process, mouth robotically chewing my eggs as I contemplate my answer.

@bi-sammy there is absolutely no proof of huxley being a slytherin and more than enough support towards him being a ravenclaw. get your clueless negativity off my blog, you utter tit.

With that, I settle my phone face down onto my table and try to enjoy my lovely plate of scrambled eggs, barely ignoring the boiling of my blood.

SIMON

My phone lights up with the new notification, dragging my attention away from my laptop as the words slide down onto the screen. “@gaystrell mentioned you in a post!” I hate to admit that I get a little pattering in my heart, urging my hand out to grasp the mobile as I pause the Youtube video currently playing. As I read his words, I slowly blink out of my excitement.

Tit. He called me a bloody tit.

Of course this fucking wanker called me a tit.

He must think that since he’s this big bad blogger, he can call me a tit right out in the open. (Although, he is talking to me, so that’s a plus) (No! No no no, bad validation, Simon. Bad). What, with his thousands of followers and fans of his own, he thinks he can try to say shit out in the open?

Fuck it. He’s either getting a DM or a bloody fist fight from me. I’ll take a train to wherever the fuck he lives (which is somewhere in England, since that’s what his bio says) (and his aunt lives in London, since he’s posted about visiting her) (I really do wonder where he’s from and how close he might be--what if I run into him one day?) (No wait fuck I don’t want that anymore).

Clicking on his blog, the little person drop down gives me the option of a message. I barely think as I type it out, vision going spotty from the adrenaline of the twinging anger.

bi-sammy: i swear to god there was no point to the battle of hogwarts if you’re just going to go around and absolutely slander the slytherin name and dare say that huxley is not one of them and, rather, is a ravenclaw

At first, I grin at it, watching my lone message appear into the empty chat. It’s so freeing--so powerful to send it. I pride myself, in the moment, for this solid move of communication. Of course I’m fucking proud. I messaged the arse myself and gave him a space to fight.

Maybe Penny’s right, I should dial down the confrontation, but it’s just the internet. Nothing important happens through a stupid little argument over Huxley’s true Hogwarts house (although, I’m sure I know I’m right in my heart), but it is a bit of fun to fuck around with someone. It’s a distraction. And that’s why I’m here, afterall. To have a distraction.

Penny thinks it’s a bit silly, but she doesn’t really complain. All she’s ever said was “I thought we left fandom stuff behind us when we were 14.” She said it over lunch, watching me scroll through my at-the-time new tumblr.

It’s funny, I thought I did leave it behind when I was younger. It seemed unneeded as life shifted. I’d just found a stable foster home, with someone who was going to keep me for a while. I found Penny a couple months before I deactivated my old account. I was happy; we were free. I didn’t need a venting place.

Shits been sort of hitting the fan recently, though. No uni plans, David’s been getting more controlling, and of course, Agatha dumping me. It all crashed on top of me a few months ago, and somehow, the only place that I could find healthy coping was online. So, I started fresh. Made a blog and settled in. It’s not big, but I’ve had a few posts get noticed. I have a good few hundred followers, and one nice anon who asks me how I am every few weeks. It’s not a lot, but it’s comforting.

I feel at home here, even with a little discourse.

Well, only when the discourse is answered. Which, in this situation, I don’t know if it will be, given it’s been over an hour now and Baz hasn’t answered.

If that’s even his name.

It’s what his bio says, at least.

baz. 17. cisguy (he/him). gay. don’t interact if you think huxley is remotely straight.

I’ve wondered for a while what Baz stands for. He refuses to answer it in asks; he always says it’s too personal. He’s sort of odd like that--never posts pictures of anything that could be linked back. Seems sort of creepy, but then again, a lot of people follow him. It’s reasonable to want space.

Maybe that’s why he’s not answering. He probably wants space of some sort, but it’d be at least decent to answer someone who tried to have a discussion (that’s at least what I’m calling that message I sent--a discussion starter).

I frown at my phone, keeping it on silent as I slide it into my front pocket and settle into my seat in maths. I’ll say it--I sulk in class, a little bitter that I don’t have his attention (despite the fact that he seems like he’s always active online, which seems odd). Eventually, I exhale and try to let it slip away. There went my one interaction with him. My few seconds of the weirdest fucking bliss online, gone.

Then, it happens. As the class is ending, I pull out my screen just enough to see and there it is. A clear notification telling me he’d answered. Oddly enough, it’s just him sending me a link to a Google Doc.

Weird.

I ignore it for the moment being, letting myself ride the wave of relaxation that I actually got a reply. It passes my mind until I’m sitting in the back of Agatha’s car, listening to Penny and Aggie in the front talking about whatever’s on their mind. The rides are sort of awkward as of recently. At least Agatha agreed to drive me home (it’s a good 45 minute walk, if not) after some convincing from Penny, but her and I don’t really chat. It’s just the two of them.

Given that time, I have a chance to pull out my mobile and thumb through what was sent.

gaystrell: https://docs.google.com/document/d/175qFASmqD7hey8lE0eoE-6VhhFYE9DP6bpnI32Aay98/edit?usp=sharing

I click on it, not expecting that much (or, really, not expecting anything at all). Yet, the second it pops up and loads, my jaw drops.

“Jesus fuck,” I say aloud, scrolling through it. Penny turns her head, frowning as I stay locked on my screen.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“No--no nothing,” I say, waving a hand. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s got to be something for that reaction,” she says, keeping turned in her seat as she eyes me up. “Just tell us, Si.”

“I mean it when I say it’s nothing.” My voice gets quieter as I shift, reading the title. “It’s just fandom stuff. It’s really nothing.”

I hear her disgruntled huff as she turns back, mumbling something about me reacting too dramatically to this. “It isn’t even real.” It’s said under her breath, yet it still rings clear in my ears.

It isn’t really fake, either.

Hell, this is six pages of real. “Why Huxley Gastrell is, Without a Doubt, a Ravenclaw”. Shared by Basilton Pitch (is that his actual name?!). Fucking hell, it’s detailed to no ends. You’d think, with this much writing, there’d be pages of pointless filler where he’d just type “im gay hi huxley is also a gay we’re all gay here aren’t we”, but no. It’s full, grammatically correct sentences detailing his points.

It’s a bit much to read in the car, so I settle my mobile face down onto the seat as I’m left reeling. That… was a bit more than I’d expected.

Shit, did he write that for me?

This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

BAZ

Whoever says that having a flair for the dramatics is pointless has clearly never met me, because I wouldn’t quite call this masterpiece of an essay “pointless”. In fact, I should send it to academics. Rename it “A Study In Multi-Dimensional Characters and their Associated Generalized Personality Traits”. I’ll be hailed as a genius, as I deserve to be.

I crack my knuckles, and see the little person pop up.

Surely enough, it’s @bi-sammy’s name that he has listed online, Simon. It’s curious, he has his last name listed as “Snow”. Although, the smallest part of me believes it’s a pseudonym. Given our interactions, I doubt he’s clever enough to think of a solid pseudonym. And, even at that, why pick Snow?

Either way, it’s surprisingly endearing. Simon Snow. Sounds sweet. Sounds innocent.

I watch his cursor turn on, then his icon goes grey after a few moments. My heart starts to trip, making my cheeks begin to flush. Is… he ignoring this?

No. He can’t be. I put in hard work and dedication into this work, and I deserve the respect I’d sent into it. Fucking hell, three fully developed points (his devotion to intellectual work, his effort to step out of public light for Sam’s sake, and his overall lack of ambition for moving forward). I clearly set it out, and ended it properly; I’d proven that Huxley is a Ravenclaw. Case and point, opinion made, the end.

And, here I sit, watching him have the audacity to open it up then close it back. That was my hard work put in there, and he closes it? Who in the name of all that is sacred thinks he’s that above other people to the point where he just ignores--

Oh. He’s back on. Nevermind.

He’s… probably a school student. It’s roughly the time that most classes end, I suppose.

I make a mental apology to him, despite having never ranted directly to him in the first place.

He stays active for a good bit; long enough to show he’s reading. I assume that he’d just close off and message me, but after minutes, I notice a little highlighted comment pop up on the last sentence.

Simon Snow i………. owe you every single possible apology

Each word makes me grin like I haven’t in a while. A wide, cheek-creasing grin. There’s something so sweet to that--so personal. It feels like a note passed to me in a classroom under the tables. Like a cute “Blink if you like me”, although I doubt he has quite an intention.

Nevertheless, it warms my chest, sending my head back as I smile. I’m not sure whether or not it’s the satisfaction of winning, or his words, but I laugh outwardly into the room. It stays with me, reverberating onto my skin and my throat.

I look back at the comment, then leave it untouched. If he won’t remove it, then I won’t either.

With a glance at our personal messages tab, I figure that’s that. Even field, no more argument. No more interaction. It’s a bit of a shame, given the effort I’d just extorted for his sake, that he hasn’t answered in our chat.

While I’m disappointed to close off the document, I smile at it one last time. Sometimes I have to move on from random people, especially when they come on a bit strong.

Except, I find, moments later that I’m wrong about one thing--the moving on. He didn’t just stop his interaction, but instead made a public post.

“@bi-sammy mentioned you in a post!”

This time, I really laugh. A full bellied, hand-covering-mouth laugh.

i guess i have to suck @gayhuxell’s cock now because i was wrong and the bloody arse was right. huxley is a ravenclaw.

#fuck me i guess

I take a minute, rereading over his words a few times before typing a simple answer with my reblog.

i’m available anytime behind a mcdonald’s parking lot

#fanfiction #fanfic #carry on #fic #mine #it's a handheld disaster #snowbaz #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm-pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #simon #baz #hhehehehe #this is like the longest chapter just a heads up #it's a short fic it's under 20k

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