#[ smash or pass things will resume tomorrow ]

[spiderwarden]

The fact that Minthara hates air jail is why more people should put her in it.

[keichanz]

Rest

saw this post and the idea wouldn’t leave my brain until i wrote it. so enjoy the random Inukag and moroha family fluff i guess.

yep i totally forgot to tag everyone sorry my bad

@lavendertwilight89 @born-for-eachother @mandirox89 @arcprz @bluejay785 @malditamigs @xfangheartx @bluehawaiicat @zelink-inukag @clearwillow @wenchster @anabananaxq @superpixie42 @midnightsilver16830 @heathersmusings @theinuyashareader @danycontreras90 @liz8080 @blairex @lordofthechips @itzatakahashi @sailorbabydoll92 @raisinraven @sticky-llama-perfection @dangerouspompadour @digital-art-monster @joaniemae @boostyourmind-blog @anxietyaardvark @simply-zerah @nsr0716 @caribmiko @witchygirl99 @mamabearcat @redflamesofpassion @tuxedochevaleresse @umacaking @hnn-wnchstr @juliatheanimelover7 @lemonlushff @eringobroke @youarenotmyhomelandanymore @hikaruwrites @horriblehowl @lady-dark-69 @sssuperbartola @eternalnight8806-3 @morganashimi83 @shnuggletea @pinkpigeonstudio @memusicmuse @cyncyn981 @yurawiththegoodhair @kagometaishostory @chickpow @ladyphoenix0711 @the-rebel-alchemist @nartista @soliska @cammysansstuff @karina-inuphantom

“C’mon, Moroha, I really don’t want to do this tonight...”

With a heavy sigh, Kagome swept aside the reed mat to her home and wasn’t at all surprised to find it empty aside from her lightly dozing husband. He sat against the wall in his usual fashion, legs crossed, arms tucked into his opposite sleeves, and he stared at her with curious, but tired eyes.

Kagome huffed and crossed her arms. “Where’d she go?”

“She?”

She gave him a look. “I know I saw her run in here. Did she climb out the window again?”

A slow blink. “My eyes were closed, wench. I didn’t see anything.”

Kagome wrinkled her nose and tried not to pout because as much as she wanted to believe otherwise, she knew her husband spoke the truth. He and Miroku had just gotten back an hour prior from a week long demon slaying trip and a single glance as he’d dragged himself inside their little hut had told her of his bone-deep exhaustion. He’d shaken his head at her inquisitive look and she hadn’t pried, figuring he’d explain all that had happened tomorrow morning after he’d gotten some well deserved rest and they had a little time to themselves while Moroha slept for another hour or so. So she’d merely smiled, kissed his cheek, and left him to rest while she wrangled up their hyper-active toddler to get ready for her bath.

But of course, true to form, Moroha was anything but compliant, the resulting happiness from her father’s return making her energized, hyper, and consequently turning everything into a game. 

Ergo, why Kagome was now searching for her hyper-active daughter after the child had darted away with mischievous giggles, evidently deciding that a game of Hide and Seek sounded like a great idea.

Kagome disagreed.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Kagome jutted her hip to the side and pinned her half-demon with a look of weary tolerance. Inuyasha likened it to fond exasperation.

“You’re lucky I love you.” Dark eyes glinted impishly at him and the corners of her lips twitched.

He fought a grin. “And here I thought you only married me for my ears.”

The look she gave him that time was coy and her smile was even more so.

“Among other things,” she said leadingly and had the audacity to drop her gaze somewhere lower than his face. 

Inuyasha’s lids lowered and he beckoned her over to him with a jerk of his head. “C’mere.”

Kagome bit her lip and took a single step forward before halting herself and narrowing her eyes at him.

“No.”

Black brows rose into silver bangs. “No?”

“Yeah. No, because I know that look, you need to rest, and I need to find your kid so I can give her the bath she’s avoiding.” 

“My kid, huh?”

“Yes, your kid. Because no child of mine would ever be this stubborn and hyper-active and suddenly think bath time would be a great time for Hide and Seek.”

“Really.”

She suppressed another smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

“Ain’t that what we’re gonna be doing in a couple hours, anyway? Sleep?” Inuyasha rejoined, quirking a brow.

Kagome rose both her eyebrows at him and tipped him a small smile that spoke volumes.

He couldn’t do it. He grinned at her. “Keh.”

Kagome snickered and tossed him a little wink. “Get some rest, dogboy. You’re gonna need it.”

“Cheeky.”

“Only for you.” She smiled, blew him a kiss, and ducked out the door, calling for their wayward daughter once again. 

Chuckling, Inuyasha shook his head and released a yawn. 

A few minutes passed and then suddenly a little nose poked out from behind the curtain of his suikan sleeves, sniffing once, twice, three times. Inuyasha watched, amused, as his daughter tentatively peeked out from behind the large draping sleeves that hid her from view and surveyed their home for her mother. Finding the room empty, Moroha giggled in triumph and slithered out from her father’s lap to land on the floor in a wriggling heap, relishing in her victory. 

Inuyasha gave her a deadpan stare.  “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

 Moroha grinned at him. “Nooo, Papa help me!”

“You used me, runt.”

“Noooo!” she giggled and got to her feet.

“You gonna let Mama give you a bath?”

“Nooooo.” Vehement head-shaking followed.

“Will you let Papa give you a bath?”

“Noo!” More giggling as she stomped around in circles.

“You ever gonna stop answering everything with ‘no’?”

The devil-child grinned at him. “Nooo.”

Inuyasha’s ear flicked and he nodded sagely. “I see. So then you don’t want the gift that Papa got for you while he was away.”

Moroha’s eyes widened. “N--” She stopped. Blinked. Furrowed her brow as she thought hard for a moment before her eyes brightened. 

Nodding her head rather enthusiastically, she said, “No.”

Inuyasha balked. Blinked. Then narrowed his eyes. “You brat, that’s cheating.”

The toddler smashed her hands against her mouth to hide the obvious grin as she danced in place, bouncing up and down in her excitement.

“Noooo,” she denied amid her giggles, apparently having far too much fun with this particular “game.”

Cheeky. Just like her mother. Keh.

Inuyasha tried to keep the stern look on his face as he shifted his position, moving as if he was getting ready to get to his feet and being deliberately slow about it.

“Alright, runt, you have three seconds to make yourself scarce before you learn how to swim like your old man did and not how your mom wants you to.”

Even at such a young age, Moroha knew it was an empty threat but she acted like it wasn’t anyway, releasing a high-pitched squeal of laughter before turning around and darting through the doorway with more giggles.

Inuyasha sank back down with a grunt and released another yawn as his ears picked up the sound of a gasp, small feet scrambling in the dirt, and then a triumphant “Gotcha, you little sneak!”

Seconds later he heard the melodic sound of his little girl’s laughter as she was “punished” by way of The Tickle Monster, aka, her mother. Softer, throatier laughter joined in before the woman herself stepped through the doorway once more, their daughter tucked beneath her arm like a sack of rice with her little dirty feet kicking merrily in the air.

Placing her free hand on her hip, Kagome arched a brow at him and said dryly, “Didn’t see anything, huh?”

“I was an unwilling accomplice. I’m innocent.”

Kagome snorted her opinion of that. Moroha echoed the sentiment.

Inuyasha frowned at the little backside wiggling in the air at him. “Traitor.”

Said wee traitor giggled, clearly unrepentant.

Kagome couldn’t hold back a smile. “Where was she?”

He stared at her for a minute before resuming his earlier position. Crossing his legs, he stuffed his hands into his sleeves again and cocked a single brow at his wife. 

Kagome gaped at him. Then at their daughter. 

“You sneaky little demon!”

Moroha giggled and squirmed in her mother’s grasp. “Sneaky!”

Inuyasha chuckled.

Kagome pointed at him. “You’re in trouble.”

He grinned.

She narrowed her eyes. “Stop that.”

He stopped.

Rolling her eyes, though unable to keep her lips from twitching upward, Kagome flapped a hand at him as if in dismissal.

“Go to sleep. You’re annoying me.”

“Excuse you, you’re the one who barged in here and disturbed my beauty sleep.”

“Inuyasha, no amount of beauty sleep in the world will--”

“Finish that sentence, wench, and you’ll find the runt and yourself taking a nice little evening swim in the cold river.”

Kagome promptly sealed her lips and smiled as she batted her eyes at him. 

Inuyasha snorted and stuck his nose in the air, closing his eyes. “Beat it. I need my rest and you two are loud.”

Finally giving in with a soft laugh, Kagome shook her head then knelt down to set their daughter on the floor. She whispered something to the toddler and with a bright smile, Moroha obediently scampered on over to her father.

Inuyasha waited until she’d reached his side before dipping his head. He received a soft kiss to his cheek with a soft, “G’night, Papa,” and small arms wrapping around his neck. He hugged his little girl back, wrapping an arm around her tiny body and dropping a kiss to her head. 

“Night, babygirl,” he murmured. He was rewarded with a bright smile - her mother’s smile - before his daughter turned and toddled back to his wife.

Kagome hoisted their toddler up into her arms, bestowed her husband with a soft, loving smile, then turned and left their home to finally give their daughter her long-overdue bath.

When Inuyasha woke, it was fully dark out and a small hand - a familiar hand - was lazily stroking his ear. Said ear flicked, there was a brief pause, then the gentle massage continued. One by one his sense came back online; the smoke and burning wood from the fire pit was the first thing to register. Next was the soothing sounds of two heartbeats, one slow and steady with the rhythm of slumber, and the other calm and nearby. Lastly was the feeling of something warm and soft leaning against his bare back, skin against skin, warm lips pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

He sighed, deciding he was content enough for the moment to relish in the warmth, the feeling of his wife’s body against his own, her forever intoxicating sent surrounding him as she stoked his ear. But then she started kissing his neck and he abruptly decided nope time to move.

A shift, a tug, and then he had her under him, bare and beautiful and smiling. Her hands pressed against his chest and he leaned down, kissed her nose, her jaw, her chin.

“Miss me?” he murmured and laid his forehead against hers, eyes twin pools of heated amber gold. 

“Yes.” No hesitation, no pause; just open honesty, genuine love in those dark eyes. Hands curled around the back of his neck as she tilted her face up, a silent request.

“Show me,” he whispered against her mouth before claiming it in a slow, languid kiss that had he been aching to give her for days. 

His wife, the mother of his child, his beloved Kagome happily returned it, her passion soft but urgent, heady but contained, hot but maddeningly slow. She whispered his name, kissed him one more time, then promptly rolled him onto his back so she could do as he bade and show him how much she’d missed him.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 16 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

<- Previous part (15)

Next part (17) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

The Loss Of A Friend

You've never been to a funeral. Well, you did, but you were a kid and you didn't know the family friend who was being buried that day. In your child's mind, you didn't get why everyone was wearing black, in uncomfortable silence, crying all day long. You remember clearly that a blue bug got your attention, making your eyes follow its every move, making you smile despite the sad atmosphere.

It couldn't be more different today.

As the coffin is lowered into the ground, where Jason will forever rest now, you hold Billy's hand, the soft fabric of your black dress tickling your tights. You barely feel it though, all your sensations resumed to the weight in your chest, crushing, squeezing your ribs, smashing your heart.

You suddenly remember the day Monica introduced you to Jason. It was the Saturday before you started working at the pool, in the parking lot of Starcourt Mall. He had his little brother on one arm, and the girl walking beside him, tugging on the hem his shirt.

“So that's the new girl.” He said, a smile spreading across his lips as he reached out his hand for you to shyly shake. “I'm Jason, born to bear the weight of being Monica's cousin, but also the coolest guy you'll find in Hawkins.”

That, of course, started a small war of cheesy pick-up lines, insults, and sarcastic comments. You laughed, feeling easily welcomed by Monica's cousin.

Now, what gets your attention is how his young siblings cry, yell, calling out Jason as is he was just sleeping inside the wooden box and would wake up, smile, and start chasing them around again. He won't. Jason is only a memory now.

“I think we should go,” Billy says in a low voice, letting go of your hand to rub your arms softly.

Nodding, you let him guide you to his Camaro, driving you away from the sea of people dressed in black. You've known Jason for such a little time compared to everyone else here, who saw him grow up, studied with him, lived near him for many years. Your pain is just a speck of dust compared to theirs.

When you get home, the sun is setting. You decide to call Diane, just to make sure she's alright, but you don't tell what happened. It would make her come here immediately, and the last thing you need is someone else you care about being in danger. You have to lie, despite hating yourself for it, telling her that your voice is funny because you had to yell a lot with the kids at the pool. But it's better this way. There are more than enough people here you need to worry about.

“Come here,” Billy calls when you finally head to the bedroom. He sits in the bed, back against the headrest and you're quick to crawl into the bed and into his arms. “How are you feeling?”

“I don't know. Sad doesn't really explain it.” Putting your legs over his, you hide your face on his neck, breathing in your favorite cologne, the only one he uses since the day you told him that. “I can't believe I buried Jason. Jason. My crazy-ass friend.” Your voice cracks and you hold back a sob. “I'll never hear those stupid jokes again.”

“I'm so sorry, princess.” There's a pain in his voice too. Billy has been around Jason a bit, mostly with you. But you know he's actually sad because of how broken you are. You can see it in his eyes, that he wish he could take your pain away, and that he's desperate because he doesn't know what to do.

But there's nothing Billy or anyone else could do. You can't fight death. You can't hit it with a baseball bat full of nails until it gives your friend back. The only thing you can do is avenge him. Get whatever took him and destroy it.

“I wanna kill those Demothings.” The anger in your voice is tangible, and you clench your hands into fists. “I swear to God, Billy, I'll kill one of them myself.”

“Anger won't help. We need to be smart about it. We need a strategy.” Billy is often angry with things. Mostly with things that hurt you, but this time, you get why he's taking another path, trying to calm you down instead of putting more wood in the fire. “The meeting is set for tomorrow. We'll find a battle plan to kill those damn things.” His hand comes to lay on your thigh, fingers softly caressing your skin. “But for now you need to rest, ok? I'll cook something you like and then we'll cuddle watching some nice movie. How does that sound?”

“What if I cry through the movie?” You ask because more tears start rolling down, it doesn't matter how many times you try to get rid of them.

“Then I'll hold you tight.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Billy is kind enough to try and get you into some small talk. Nothing too complicated, nothing related to the Demothings or Jason. You're thankful for that. He even manages to get a few laughs from you, although they're always followed by a reality check when the events of the last two days hit you again, and the smile is gone.

A couple of hours later you're watching Jaws, your head on Billy's chest as you try to follow the events of the movie. But it seems way too fast for you, or it's just your mind that's refusing to process anything that's happening.

You just keep thinking about death. About how Jason's whole life was cut short. How all of his plans for the future were erased.

“Billy, can I ask you something?” Keeping your voice low, you speak up for the first time since you came to the living room after having dinner.

“Of course, princess. What is it?”

Biting your lip, you consider if you should really bring that up. It's selfish to talk about your future when someone else won't have one. But this whole situation made you want to make plans because it's a privilege to still be here. It's a blessing to still have time. “What you said to Joyce about... Marriage. Did you really mean that or–” Pushing yourself up from where you were laying on top of him, you take a deep breath. “–or were you just trying to get out of the conversation. Because it's ok if–”

“Haven't I made it clear that I want to be with you for the rest of my life?” He moves to sit up as well, pulling you close until you're placed in between his legs, a hand caressing your cheek. “Because if I hadn't, I'll make it clear now. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I don't know how it happened, and it did get me by surprise, but the day you walked in the Hawkins Community Pool, I knew something changed in me. I knew I had to get to know you, and I did thought it would pass, that I'd get tired of you as I got of the other girls, but I didn't.” Billy holds you closer to him, your foreheads touching. “You hit me like–”

“Bang.” You finish for him, the memory of the day he was unbelievably honest with you coming back. The day he admitted to you, and somehow to himself too, that he liked you. It was also the day he punched David, and the day he kissed your cheek, making your stomach burn like it has been set on fire.

“Like bang.” He breathes out, warm lips coming in touch with yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him as close as you can, the need to feel that he's here, with you, clouding the sound of the TV. Billy moves to lay back down again, and when you move to follow his change of posture, your knee slips and connects to his ribs. “Ouch!” He breathes out, cutting off the kiss.

“Oh, shit. I'm so sorry.” Covering your mouth, you bring the free hand to rub his side. “Sorry, baby.”

Taking a deep breath, he grabs your arm and pulls you down, making you collide on his chest, giggling. “Sorry. I shouldn't be joking around with you now.”

Squinting your eyes at him, you try to get up, but his strong arms come around your body, keeping you from moving. “I hate you, Hargrove.” The fake sentence is soon overcome by a giggle. “I'll kick you right this time, I'm warning you.”

“Oh, I'm shaking like a leaf.”

“Don't test me, Hargrove. Keep in mind we sleep on the same bed and I know all of your habits, baby.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Mumbling, you manage to stand up, moving back into a sitting position. You know he actually let you go, but there's no reason to acknowledge that. Taking a deep breath, the sudden happiness is stained again, as the memories crawl back. It seems like Billy notices because his smile softens. “I love living with you, you know that, right?”

“I love waking up next to you every morning.”

You can't help the smile that comes to your lips as you bend over again, kissing his lips.

On the next day, Billy calls Anthony to ask him to give you a few days off work. Obviously, you have to urge your hothead boyfriend not to curse the manager and risk losing his job. You feel fine to go to the pool, or you think you do, but the truth is you wouldn't be paying much attention anyway. And much to your dismay, Billy gets a total of zero days off. No discussion, what makes him hang up the phone so hard you thought he broke the poor thing.

Since you don't want to be alone, and Billy would absolutely never allow you to be alone in the house when you're friend just died, he drives you to Joyce's place, where the party will gather to make plans.

Saying it's hard to be away from Billy on the day after you buried Jason is a misunderstanding. Seeing him drive away from Joyce's porch makes you feel like he's taking your heart with him. He didn't seem pleased either, but there was no other choice. You wouldn't make him miss the day, since you know Anthony is a terrible human being, just looking for the right excuse to get rid of the lifeguards.

“Honey, come inside,” Joyce calls a hand on your shoulder. “Can I get you something to eat? We had pizza last night and I have a slice in the fridge.”

“No, thank you, Joyce.” Politely, you decline her offer. “Is there any bed I can crash in?”

“Sure. Come.” Walking through Jonathan and Will, you wave at them, muttering a good morning and trying not to cry at their sad faces. They know Jason was a close friend, and, like everyone else, they don't know what to do or say. “This is Will's and Jonathan's room. Just pick a bed.” Nodding, you choose the one on the left and lie down. “Do you need to talk?”

“There's nothing to say.” Putting your head on a pillow, you stare at the ceiling. You feel comfortable around Joyce, she has this mother thing about her. “I just want this to end. Before anyone else gets... Eaten.” The word makes you shiver as it brings the image of his body back. “I wish I wasn't the one to find him. To... See him that way. I don't think I'll ever forget that.”

“Honey, I'm so sorry.” She comes to sit on the edge of the bed. “When... When they found Will's body, it hurt. I knew in my heart it wasn't him, but the very idea of losing my baby was horrible. So I have an idea of how you feel. Losing someone is a pain that doesn't go away. You'll get used to it, but it remains. All we can do is learn to deal with it and honor them by carrying their memories.”

You're crying through her speech, and you can't help but sit up and hug her, crying on her shoulder. “We have to be careful because I can't lose anyone else.” You're not sure if she can even understand what you're saying, but since she nods, you think she did.

“Don't worry, honey. We'll all be alright.” She pulls away, rubbing both your arms. “The kids will be here soon, but feel free to stay here or join us, ok? Do whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Thanks.” Offering her a small, sad smile, you watch as she leaves.

You hear when they get here, the chattering starts, and you can understand a few words here and there. They talk about you, and about Billy and about the funeral. But soon enough it falls into the major problem. And that's when you tune out, staring at the ceiling, trying not to make yourself too comfortable in someone else's bed.

The only thing you want now is Billy. You want to go back to the time where there was no Demogorgon, Demowhatever lurking around. At least to you. It's weird to know what really happened in Billy's car accident, how he was almost the host for the Mind Flayer. You're happy it didn't happen, that he's here now. You need to thank Max for that, actually. If it wasn't for her and the others, your Billy wouldn't be here. He could be dead, and you'd never meet him. He'd never shoot glances at you, or drive you home, buy you tacos or punch David's face. Or kiss you, hold you, love you. The thought of a life without Billy in it is absurd. Now, more than ever, after you lost someone so dear, you have this need to be with him. Just to make sure he's here.

Breathing out and closing your eyes, your hand comes to hold the necklace. It makes you feel closer to Billy, and there is a silent promise here, one you hold close to your heart, together with the earring.

Eyes open, you get up of the bed. You don't care if you got days off, you have to see him. Even if it's just for a hug. Leaving the bedroom, you make your way to the living room, which is crowded.

“We wait until it's late at night to make sure the Demodogs are out, sneak inside the tunnels, and spill insane amounts of gasoline all over it. Get the hell out, wait until it's morning, and set the whole thing on fire.” Dustin says, hands in the air and a smile on his face.

He's kidding, right? He can't be suggesting that as if it's the greatest idea of the world. “Are you completely insane?” You ask, making your presence known. Arms crossed, your eyes scan through the party. “You can't possibly think this is a good idea.”

“I agree with (Y/N), this is insane,” Joyce adds, her face making it clear she thinks this idea sucks. “I won't let you do that.”

“But–”

“The point is to kill them without getting ourselves killed. And every single idea you come up with has a hundred different ways to get us killed.” Steve says, both his hand on his hips as he paces around the room. “Who thinks this idea sucks raise your hand.” He's the first to do it, and Joyce, you, and Jonathan do the same.

“Count Billy in.” You say, raising the other hand as well.

“And Hopper,” Joyce states, giving you an approving stare.

“It's six against seven. We're doing it.” Dustin exclaims.

“No.” You basically shout, not caring one bit if you sound bossy. All eyes lay on you as you struggle to keep it together. “We're not doing it and that's final.”

“I–”

“I just lost a friend and I will not let you do something that might just end up in another funeral.” There are tears threatening to fall again, but you hold them back. “So come up with something else.”

The silence is deafening. You know you're breaking down again, even though the tears aren't rolling down. Yet.

“Please. There's gotta be something else.” Lowering your voice and looking down at your feet, you beg. You can't even think about someone else dying. You couldn't bear it.

“I saw this thing at school. Like a robot with remote control.” Lucas starts. “If we could build a bunch of them and attach a hose, we could guide it inside the tunnels and spread the gasoline.”

“Yeah, but there are seven holes. Which means a lot of ground we'd have to cover.” Eleven adds as you make your way to the group, sitting on the couch beside Joyce.

“Let's blow up six of them.” You burst out, crossing your legs. “A hell of a explosion that would take those things days to dig it back. Then there will be only one way in and out. Find a hell of a long hose or just connect a bunch of them and a million gallons of gas. The robots will spread it then we'll just need a match.”

“That's good. It could work.” Nancy says. “But we'll need to chip in to buy all these things.

“Hopper can get some for free I'm sure.”

“We start right now.” Mike stands up and the others follow. “Let's get started.”

The rest of the day is hectic. Lists are made, one of the kids teachers come over to help with what they called a summer project. For fun. And the materials started arriving. You don't really know what to do, so you help Joyce make lunch, keeping up with her small talk. Joyce is easy to be around, and you like to hear her stories about Will and Jonathan. You even manage to show a few smiles every now and then. After everyone is fed, you finally sit on the porch, trying to help as much as you can. The kids are genius, literally building remote control robots from random pieces and the instructions from books. It's amazing. Since you can't really be of much help in this aspect, you join Nancy, separating stuff or doing anything they tell you too.

When the sun is setting, some of them had to go home to gather their stuff. They'll crash here and take the robot construction through the night. By the moment you hear the faint noise of Billy's car, it's just Joyce's kids, Steve and Dustin. Leaving the small pieces of metal you were shaping into tiny little circles, you stand up abruptly.

“Where are you going? These circles aren't going to make themselves.” Dustin complains, raising his hands in the air.

“Billy is back.” There's no need for further explanation, so you tiptoe among the stuff, careful not to step on anything.

“It could be anyone.”

“Dustin, is there any other car in Hawkins that sounds like that?” As you speak, the noise gets louder and Billy's car comes to your sight.

“She knows her boyfriend's car.” Steve jokes as you walk to the yard, smiling when Billy stops the car and comes out.

“Miss me, princess?”

“Obviously.” It's a feeling of pure relief to see him. It feels like it's been so much longer than just some hours, but you feel that you'll have this insane need to be around him for a while. Just to enjoy the fact that you're still alive. You can't help but wonder for long the idea of death will hover over you... Probably forever.

“You ok?” He asks, his hand on your hair as you have your head on his chest.

“I will be.” Remembering the audience, you pull away, standing on your toes to kiss him. “Dustin had a terrible idea but I made him change his mind about it.”

“How did you do that?”

“I yelled.” With no intention of further explanation, you turn at the guys. “I'll be back tomorrow morning, alright? Have fun doing crazy science.” Waving at them, you get into the car.

You would like to stay at Joyce's, keep helping as much as you can, but you feel like you need silence and peace. The kid's laughter and jokes make you feel better, but you know that you also need to let the sadness creep over for a while. Keeping it hidden, disguised, makes no good. So as you dry and brush your hair, waiting for Billy to finish his shower, you cry.

For Monica, for Jason's younger siblings, his mother, his father, uncle, and aunt. For every friend he made since he was born. And for yourself too. Jason was one of the people that you imagined you'd be around for the rest of your life.

You're dragged away from your thoughts by the phone's ring. Rushing to answer it, you find it's Joyce, kindly asking if you can pick Mike up and drive him to her place, and of course, you comply.

“Billy.” You call when you hear him coming out of the bathroom. “Joyce needs us to pick up Mike. Nancy can't stop what she's doing there.”

“Sure. Let's go.”

Being out at night makes you anxious, but you try not to let it show. Eyes on the road, you bounce your leg nervously, tugging on the seat belt. Billy notices, and a hand comes to rest on your thigh.

“We'll be fine. Relax.”

“I'm trying.” Stretching your arm, you touch his neck. “I'm sorry if I can't stop thinking about Jason and what happened.”

“(Y/N), you just lost a friend. My responsibility as your boyfriend is to hold and love you through this process. Don't apologize.”

“I don't want this to be your responsibility, Billy.” When he turns his head to look at you, you run your fingers through his jaw.

He takes a deep breath, pulling over by Mike's house. You were about to get out, but since he doesn't move, neither do you. Billy looks like he's thinking, furrowed eyebrows and distant eyes. “Billy? Come back to Earth.” You decide to ask, taking off the belt and turning your body towards his.

“To have and to hold. For better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.” He squints his eyes through the words, trying to remember them. It takes a while for you to understand what he means, and when you do, your heart starts drumming in your ears. “To love and cherish till death do us part.”

“Billy...”

“It means I'll stand by your side. Not because I feel like it's my responsibility, but because I love you. And I'm more than happy to take the responsibility of being your–”

“Couldn't you save that up for, I don't know, someday when I'm dressed in white?” The words come out fast, and you're blushing hard, your cheeks burning. “No. You had to do this now. Drive me insane now in your Camaro.” You roll your eyes dramatically when his lips break into a smile, that smug, cocky smile he has when he knows he got to you somehow.

“Be my wife, (Y/N).”

“No.” It's an utter absurd how hard you have to fight not to say the exact opposite. You want to just burst out the word, here and now, because you're so damn sure you want Billy for the rest of your life. “No, baby. We'll graduate, save up money and you'll make a decent proposal.” You hope he can't notice your hands shaking as you step out of the car, almost stumbling on the sidewalk. His words burn through your mind, sending shivers down your spine. “I won't say I'll marry you in the middle of the sidewalk, in the middle of the night, in front of Mike's house.”

“Did I just make you nervous?” Billy's arms come to encircle your waist, his deep voice, and breath on your hair making you sigh.

“Shut up, Hargrove.” With the sweet sound of his laughter on your ear, you knock on the front door, trying to push him away before someone comes to answer. “Let go.”

“Are you using my cologne again?” As soon as he asks, you feel his nose softly rubbing your neck, what makes you giggle and try to push him away again, uselessly. “You are.”

It wasn't your intention to let him find out, but he always does. “Well, it was–”

The door is suddenly open, a yellowish light hitting your eyes as you try to stand up straighter. The woman standing there gives a step back as if she just saw a ghost. Her eyes fly from Billy and back at you, then all the way back to Billy. It hits you suddenly as you realize she's Mrs. Wheeler, the woman Billy was going to meet on the day the Mind Flayer almost got him. They haven't met or spoken since that day, and you weren't expecting her to look so... Perplexed. You try to read her expression, to understand what the look in her eyes means.

“Hello, Mrs. Wheeler.” You manage to say because Billy clearly won't even try to be polite. You feel his muscles tensing up, as he gets immediately uncomfortable under the woman's stare since she doesn't seem to even try to hide. “Sorry to disturb you. We're here for Mike.”

×

@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @dreamin-of-dacre @funeral-7 @uncookspaget @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @halloweenbitch2764 @redlovett @multific @shinydixon @nikkixostan @clockworkballerina @nope-thanks

[btsinwonderland]

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 6: The Game

A Loki fanfiction!

Previous Chapter --- Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

Chapter warnings: minor violence at the last half.

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

It was game day. The air was brisk and chills ran over your arms. Shadows darkened the grass in uneven splotches, and clouds blanketed the sky. A drop of rain hit your temple as you exited the castle and another hit your cheek as you made your way to the stands. You wiped it away and glanced up at the sky. Usually, the idea of a storm thrilled you, but this time you grew concerned at the dark grey masses making their way towards the Quidditch pitch. The last thing the players needed was freezing wind and rain besides the match, though you smiled at the thought of Valkyrie’s persistence. She would laugh in the face of a storm and still win.

You pulled up your yellow scarf to cover your neck better and wondered why you never learned a proper water resistance charm. Passing the Owlry, you saw Mo emerge with Nila behind him. They saw you and waved when you ran to catch up with them. The rain had picked up now and large droplets splashed on the walkway.

Mo lifted his copy of the Daily Prophet above his head to block the rain. “Are we really going to stay outside in all this?”

“Are you really questioning that?” Nila said, placing her hands in her coat pockets.

You laughed. “I think he forgets Valkyrie’s wrath. When she finds out you skipped out on her first game as captain because of a bit of rain…” You said, shrugging, as Nila linked her arm with yours and you both began walking towards the Quidditch pitch.

You heard the tapping of steps on wet pavement behind you as Mo fell in line with you both. A moving photograph on the front page of the paper caught your eye. You snatched it from Mo.

“Hey! I was using that, you know,” he said, reaching for it again.

You turned away, trying to read it. “I just need it for a few seconds, please.”

There was a picture of a man, clad in black and screaming, holding up an Azkaban plate in his hands. His hair was in long grey dreadlocks, down to his waist, and his eyes were wide open and cold. From just the photo, you got chills from his disposition. There were three jagged lines across his face, from his right temple to the bottom of his lip, as if an animal clawed him. The article read:

VIDAR STILL AT LARGE

The known right hand of the Dark One, and loyalist to the movement, Vidar Larsen, one of the most infamous prisoners to be ever held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.

“We will capture Vidar Larsen,” said the Minister of Magic, Odin Borson, this morning, “and we ask the magical community to remain calm.”

Vidar Larsen has had an ongoing trial over a span of thirty years regarding his collusion with the Dark One and his involvement in the death of twenty-three muggles in the small town of Wovelly.

“He’s a scary lookin’ one,” Nila said over your shoulder.

Mo snatched back the newspaper before you could read anymore. He read the cover and raised his brows. “I wonder if that’s why school security has been goin’ up, with a lunatic like that runnin’ around. Honestly, I understand.”

You shrugged. “Either that or the vicious monster in the Forbidden Forest.”

Mo nodded. “That too.”

The three of you made your way up the Quidditch towers and into the stands. The wooden boards creaked underneath your feet and you breathed heavily as you reached the top. Damn stairs, every time.

When you took your seats, you glanced at the tower to the left of you and spotted Professor Laufeyson. His black hair glistened from the rain and he slid it back with one hand, away from his face. He wore a black cloak and a Slytherin scarf. His skin soaked in the gloomy light softly; it glowed amidst all the dark jackets around him. As if he sensed your gaze, his head moved in your direction. You quickly glanced away, cursing at yourself for staring again. You had tried avoiding him since the encounter in the hallway and so far had done quite well. However, potions class was coming up tomorrow, and you had no idea how you would avoid him then.

The announcer, Nathan Gill, a Gryffindor student in his sixth year, spoke. His voice boomed through the pitch:

HELLO AND WELCOME TO HOGWARTS’ FIRST QUIDDITCH GAME OF THE SEASON. TODAY’S GAME, SLYTHERIN VERSUS GRYFFINDOR!

At that, the Gryffindor team flew out into the field, wearing their goggles and rain cloaks. Blurs of red and gold whizzed past you and you clapped, as did the rest of your box. “Wooo! Valkyrie!” You yelled as she flew to the centre of the field in a seamless line, stopping gracefully and hovering on her broomstick. Then the Slytherin team flew out in rapid succession, their green and silver robes fluttering behind them.

“Check out their new seeker!” Nila said beside you, and pointed.

You squinted your eyes to focus on the seeker and noticed a head of blue hair and frowned. “Bloody hell, is that Talon?”

Mo pulled out his binoculars and wrinkled his nose. “How the hell did that douchebag learn how to play Quidditch?”

THE PLAYERS TAKE THEIR POSITIONS AS PROFESSOR ODINSON STEPS OUT ONTO THE FIELD TO BEGIN THE GAME!

Professor Odinson walked up to the centre of the field, holding a large chest. He pointed to the players and spoke; you assumed he was telling them to have a clean game. Though, now that you knew Talon was on the Slytherin team, that was surely unlikely. That slimeball did not care for anybody’s rules or feelings. Valkyrie was an excellent player, though this surprise appearance of said douchebag did not sit wonderfully with you.

Professor Odinson opened up the chest and the two bludgers shot into the air. You nearly missed the snitch as it flitted up and disappeared, out of sight.

THE BLUDGERS ARE UP, FOLLOWED BY THE GOLDEN SNITCH! REMEMBER THE SNITCH IS WORTH 150 POINTS, THE SEEKER WHO CATCHES THE SNITCH, ENDS THE GAME!

Everyone cheered with excitement as Professor Odinson took the quaffle and flung it up.

THE QUAFFLE IS RELEASED AND THE GAME BEGINS!

The entire stadium clapped as Gryffindor took possession of the quaffle. You stood when the quaffle reached Valkyrie and she zig-zagged her way across the pitch. A Slytherin player body checked her, but she swerved outside the stands for a second before hurrying back and looping over a bludger sent her way. She threw the quaffle into the top goal as the Slytherin keeper tried to catch it in vain.

VALKYRIE SCORES TEN POINTS FOR GRYFFINDOR!

“She’s going to rock this!” you said to Mo and Nila who cheered alongside you.

The game resumed this way, with Gryffindor in the lead. The rain continued to pour, and the temperature had dropped significantly, even though you were surrounded by warm bodies. It was getting impossible to follow every detail as flecks of raindrops hit your eye from the wind. You wiped your eyelids and focused on the field.

Slytherin got two goals while Gryffindor was still ahead by twenty points. Valkyrie had scored an additional goal, which you celebrated vivaciously. Suddenly you saw a small streak of gold soar past your head and nearly jumped from surprise; it was the golden snitch. Talon whipped past your box, causing several of you to nearly fall over from trying to avoid a kick to the face. You crouched in your seat, cursing his name.

“That bastard better not get the snitch,” Mo said.

Nila adjusted her scarf. “Where’s the Gryffindor seeker? She should be close behind!”

You looked out onto the field looking for the seeker in red and gold. Slytherin had the quaffle and one of the Gryffindor beaters hit a bludger so close to their broom that the Slytherin player dropped the ball. You smiled when another Gryffindor player caught it. As you observed the field while searching for the seeker, something in the clouds caught your eye.

It was already quite rainy and dark and the gloom hung over the Quidditch pitch in a sad sort of shadow. But in the distance, between the overlap of the clouds, you saw dark specks. You blinked several times, wondering if something was in your eye, but the specks moved. They even grew larger.

“What is that?” You said, aloud. But nobody heard you over the cheering of a Gryffindor goal.

You looked around at everyone, and they were focused on the field. Glancing up again, you saw the black specks getting closer, and there were so many. A black blur hit the wooden pillar above your head and fell beside you. You cringed towards Nila as you saw a dead crow by your feet. “What the hell?”

An enormous mass of black crows swarmed the pitch, and that was when you heard the first screams.

They flew straight into the stands and the ones that slowed down enough not to hit the pillars pecked at the bystanders in the boxes. A girl in front of you lost her hat to a crow, and another crow swooped down and pecked her forehead with its beak, causing a bloody gash. She screamed in pain and nearly fell down the side of the box, trying to run away.

Mo and Nila tried to wave the birds aside as the three of you jumped out of your seats. A large group of crows dove towards your box, so you pulled out your wand and yelled “immobulus!” The birds froze in midair but only more crashed into them. There were too many to stop.

“We have to get out of here!” Nila said in the commotion.

“What about Valkyrie? She’s still out there!” You said, looking at the pitch.

The players were now fully aware of the swarm and the entire game was thrown into chaos. Valkyrie was swinging the end of her broom at the birds to get them away from some of the players who had been hit already. You saw her soar up in the sky and try to distract the mass and lead them away.

EVERYONE BACK TO THE SCHOOL IN AN ORDERLY FASHION! THE GAME HAS BEEN CANCELLED! I REPEAT, BACK TO THE SCHOOL IN AN ORDERLY FASHION!

It was Professor Sif’s voice this time; she could not conceal the panic in her tone.

“Valkyrie! Come back down!” You yelled, but she could not hear you.

A crow smashed into Valkyrie’s face and knocked her off her broom. You screamed as you watched her fall, dreading the worst. She fell into sand at the bottom of the pitch and you only breathed again when you saw her sit up on her elbows with a pained expression. Professor Odinson ran onto the pitch and lifted her up into his arms.

“Freya! We have to go!” Mo said.

You nodded and ran down the stairs with them. The three of you became separated in a mad dash and when you reached the bottom, the birds were there, pecking and clawing at anything that moved. You ran around the side of the pitch, trying to avoid both the crows and other people running like madmen. Suddenly, a flap in the fabric of the stands peeled open and someone grabbed you by the arm. You were dragged inside a Slytherin coloured tower and pushed up against the beam.

“You have been avoiding me again, Miss Eves.”

You looked up at Professor Laufeyson and struggled against him. “Is this really the time, sir?”

“A little feisty today, are we? Do birds scare you?” His eyes flashed as he smiled.

You glared at him. “They’re hurting people!”

The professor looked down as you spoke; away from your eyes.

“Did...you know this would happen?” you said.

His eyes snapped up at you, guarded. “Your perceptions grant me too high a status, Miss Eves. My abilities are quite limited when it comes to a plague of birds.”

You relaxed a little in his grip. “What do you want from me?” The question made you lick your lips reflexively.

He raised his eyebrows. “I want you to tell me what you know about the Tesseract, and how you know about it.”

“Call it a wild guess?” You said, half smiling.

He frowned at your answer. “I was hoping it would not come to this,” he said.

You looked at him, confused. “Come to wha-”

His fingers tightened around your shoulders and his face went completely neutral. There was suddenly a feeling of pressure around your head as your thoughts slipped into your memories.

The vision of the lake appeared in your mind with the glowing blue Tesseract beneath the surface, at the very bottom. Images of the pale faced dead creatures came next, one after another, moving towards Professor Laufeyson in the dark cavern. He yelled your name, and this time you saw yourself, across the lake, with your wand in the air-

The vision abruptly changed to you, nights ago, in your bed. You were naked and touching yourself, bringing yourself to a climax uttering a single name over and over, “Loki.”

“NO!” you yelled and pushed Professor Laufeyson away. The images disappeared, and you realized what he had done far too late.

Professor Laufeyson’s face was flushed when you looked at him, and it confirmed your horrified suspicions. He looked away, surely embarrassed at what he had no right to see.

You found your strength and walked up to him, slapping him across the face. Your hand stung, but it was worth it. He looked shocked at first, then angry, and then slightly amused in a matter of seconds. It all infuriated you. You turned to leave when he grabbed your hand.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm the flames of anger and shame you felt. “Please, punish me later, I need to go.”

There was a pause, as if he was struggling to decide what he wanted to do. Then his voice came out as a low whisper. “Very well, Miss Eves.” He cleared his throat and let your hand go.

You ran away from the stands and from the Quidditch pitch. The crows were nearly gone, but there were several dead birds scattered across your path. The air smelled of iron and a nauseating musk. A sick feeling unfurled in your stomach and you were not sure if it was from the crows or Professor Laufeyson’s invasion of your mind; perhaps a bit of both.

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

Sending you peace and love! <3

I've decided to change post days to Wednesdays since now my Wednesdays are EMPTY without new Loki episodes T_T. At least this will make it feel a bit like Loki day =)

[fellulahh]

Lucifer x MC x Satan fic Part 2/???

Read Part 1 here!

-

“It’s only because you enjoy her company.” He sighed to himself as he chucked the small gift back into his drawer before slamming it shut. “It’s just refreshing to have her around.” He tried to convince himself.

Returning to his position over his desk, Lucifer began to worry. Had he been too cold with her?

-

Making her way through the house as she fought back her tears, MC’s breathing was shaky. She felt like a complete fool having just so willingly opened her heart up to Lucifer only to have him awkwardly palm her off without an explanation.

Pushing open the kitchen door, she slowed down her pace as her eyes trailed across the room. MC was feeling incredibly down - she hadn’t felt such a sinking feeling in her stomach in forever. The sensation was ill received and all she wanted to do was forget about everything that had happened that evening.

Perhaps a drink would ease her mind. Opening up one of the cupboards across the room, MC slowly reached a hand up before clutching one of the bottles of wine inside. She stared at the bottle with unsure eyes before carefully unscrewing the cap. Reaching over the counter to the sink, she grabbed one of the freshly washed glasses before pouring herself a drink.

Letting out one last sigh, she brought the glass to her lips before letting the red alcohol seep down her throat. Just the taste of the alcohol alright lightened her spirits.

She rested against the counter as she continued to sip her drink. “You fool...” she laughed to herself, “how could you ever think he’d love you back?”

As moments passed, the bottle began to empty as MC tried to erase her memories of the past hour. It wasn’t long until her vision began to blur and her steps began to become staggered. Lifting the glass up, she narrowed her eyes as she watched the liquid inside swirl beneath the kitchen lights.

Hiccuping, she giggled at the red wine before guzzling more.

“Oh no!” She slurred, finishing her glass.

Stumbling back to the cupboard, she reached up and grabbed two more bottles of wine.

Meanwhile, as MC was emptying the alcohol contents, Satan was sat in the lounge with his head deep in a book when he heard something smash in the kitchen nearby. Immediately concerned, he discarded his novel to one side before swiftly making his way through the house toward the noise.

He was a little unsettled by the sudden sound. He hadn’t seen Beel come down for a snack - the only person he’d seen heading toward the kitchen was MC. He’d noticed that she hadn’t returned but perhaps he was so engrossed in his novel that he hadn’t noticed her walk back past the lounge.

Entering the room, he was shocked to see her leant against the counter with her hand gripping a bottle of wine while another was smashed on the floor. Red liquid seeped through the wooden floors as she gulped away at the bottle in her hand.

“MC what are you doing?!” Satan asked, frantically making his way to her.

He snatched the bottle of wine out of her hand and lead her away from the shards of glass that were scattered across the floor. She was visibly intoxicated; if it weren’t for Satan’s support she would have easily fallen to the ground by now.

“Why have you been drinking?!” He questioned as his worried eyes scanned hers. It was completely out of character for her to be drinking alone without any reason. MC had never been a casual drinker.

He gripped her tightly by both shoulders as she struggled to stand. A drunken smile spread across her lips as she stumbled on her small feet. “He doesn’t love me, Satan.” She slurred.

Hearing her words made his heart sink. He already knew who she was referring to but he had to hear it from her. “Who, MC?” He asked quietly as his eyebrows knitted.

“Lucifer!” She waved her hand dramatically, spilling wine down herself, “I told him I love him and he said I should have never told him.”

It pained Satan more than he’d like to admit watching her yearn for someone that wasn’t him. Lucifer didn’t deserve MC’s love and yet she still gave it to him. She’d confided in the blonde haired demon about her feelings for the Avatar of Pride previously but unbeknownst to her, it killed Satan to hear them.

“MC you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Satan breathed, trying to hold back his own feelings, “You never told me that you were going to tell him...”

“I had to!” She insisted, “I had to know if he loved me too...”

Reaching for the bottle of wine as her lip quivered, MC was stopped when Satan gently grabbed her arm. “Please don’t do this. Alcohol isn’t going to solve your problems.” He tried to plea.

“You’re right, it won’t.” She spoke seriously, “but it’ll help me forget them.”

Before she could lunge for the bottle again, Satan pulled MC into his arms. He held her body tight as he rubbed her back with his large hand. “Lucifer will soon know what he’s lost out on. He doesn’t deserve you, MC.” He whispered.

Burying her face into his chest, MC began to drunkenly sob. “Then why can’t I stop thinking about him? Why is he the first thing to cross my mind when I wake up and the last thing when I go to sleep?” She whimpered as she wrapped her arms around Satan’s waist.

“Because you love him.” He sighed hesitantly, “just like I love you.”

MC was too busy crying to hear his words. Satan was thankful that she hadn’t heard him blab. Seeing her so overwhelmed with emotion made him vulnerable; he just wanted to hold her in his arms for the rest of the night telling her everything is going to be okay.

Stood in silence, they continued to embrace each other as Satan mentally cursed Lucifer for ever hurting the woman he’d grown to fall in love with.

“Come on.” He whispered as he rubbed her back, “let’s get you upstairs.”

Nodding her head, MC allowed Satan to guide her out of the room. It took them a while to make their way through the house as she struggled to even balance on her two feet. However, they eventually made it to Satan’s room.

He’d considered walking MC back to her own room but he knew that if she were to stay in his, she’d be able to sleep peacefully without any disturbance from the likes of Mammon or even Lucifer.

As they pushed their way into his room, Satan lead her to his bed. “Come on, you’re nearly there.” He spoke softly in her ear, “you just sit there.”

Plopping her bottom on the edge of his bed, MC swayed while he adjusted the duvet behind her. “Come on drunky.” He spoke, lifting up the covers, “lay down.”

Following his request, MC flopped back onto the bed as Satan began tucking her in. While he was focusing on making sure she was relaxed, MC was busy gazing up at the demon.

She smiled at the way his blonde hair fell in front of his eyes and his tongue poked out between his lips as he concentrated. “Are you comfortable?” He asked, standing up straight.

“Very.” She nodded sleepily.

Worried, he gave her red face one last look before turning away, making his way over to the armchair across the room. “I’ll be right here if you need anything, okay?” He asked softly, grabbing a book from his table. “I’ll lay some clothes out for you to wear tomorrow.”

“Okay.” She smiled as she shut her eyes, “goodnight Lucifer.”

Her words were like a brutal wound to his chest. Choosing to ignore her drunken slur, Satan sighed as he sat down in the chair, resuming where he’d left off in his book.

Glancing one last time at MC, he smiled sadly as he watched her lifeless body sink into his bed and snuggle his pillow.

“Goodnight MC...”

Find the other Parts of this fic here!

[lovelyirony]

could you write something for trans pepper coming out to tony please?

authors note: i am not an expert, nor am i trans. please let me know if i have written anything wrong/harmful, and i’ll take it down

When Pepper started at Stark Industries, she told herself that she would not get too involved. She was here to do her job, and nothing else. She had caused “problems” at her last job, and in return they had caused problems for her as well. 

(Sitting by herself at the cafeteria, fielding uncomfortable messages, and correcting intentionally wrong emails had been...exhausting. Mentally and physically.) 

But this? No, this can’t go on. 

The math is all wrong. It’s going to cost the company about a million dollars if she lets it pass, and while she’s sure that it could be replaced easily in a day, that’s the kind of thing that gets you fired. And when employers look at your resume and see that you were terminated from the highest-ranking job to have for an accountant, a prestigious company that takes pride in accurate numbers and satisfied employees? 

Well...it doesn’t look too hot. 

So she brings it up. Her boss isn’t exactly happy with her. She thinks the numbers were probably intentional. 

“I’ve been doing this for years, I think I know a little bit more than you, young lady,” he scowls. 

Pepper’s not exactly fazed at the dismissive remark. 

“Then I’m sure that you’ll know that your math is wrong. It’d be better to double-check it and be right and have me be in the wrong than not check it and be fired.” 

He doesn’t check it. 

But when he’s called into Mr. Stark’s office, he must have mentioned her name. 

He put the blame on her. 

Pepper cannot believe it as she’s called in. 

“So, Mark tells me that you did math wrong.” 

“I didn’t. I triple-checked it, and kept the receipt tape as proof.” 

“Oh, I know. Mark can’t do math for shit, but he hates when people tell him. But I’m glad you did, because it made me realize I can’t have someone who’s so insecure that when someone tells them to double-check it and they don’t because they want to be right, that...I don’t know what I was doing. Anyways, he’s fired.” 

Pepper blinks. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Also, I’m reading your file. Virginia? Did your parents hate you?” 

“Not the worst name I’ve been given,” Pepper says smoothly. 

“Hm. Says here that you go by Pepper. I like that.” 

“Thank you, chose it myself and everything.” 

“And everything?” Tony asks, smiling. “I like that.” 

- 

Four months later, she’s in the break room when Tony’s personal assistant quits on the spot after he’s late for the third time in a week. 

“I can’t fucking do this!” He screeches. “I’m done.” 

Pepper’s not sure why she goes into Jason’s office and just looks at the schedule. 

She calls his cell. 

“Jason, seriously, I told you to quit bothering me.” 

“It’s Pepper. Get your ass over here for your meeting, the board directors are about an inch away from reinstating Obadiah.” 

“And that would be a bad thing...why?” 

“You want your stock points to drop because you’re proving that you can’t be trusted to run a company?” 

“I’ll be there.” 

It’s the fastest time that Tony makes it into the office, by the way. Pepper’s only slightly proud. 

- 

She’s terrified when he offers her a position as a personal assistant. She’ll be in the limelight, people paying attention to her. 

She modifies her contracts: no one is allowed to access any sort of personal information. At all. It has to be locked in a vault, only key is one that she and Tony know about. 

“Anything I should know about?” 

“Um. No.” 

“Oh. Okay. As long as you aren’t secretly running any illegal thing out of one of the floors, then be my guest. But if you are, let me know. Petra in accounting--new hire, you wouldn’t know them--is secretly reselling wedding cakes. I think. Maybe the wedding cakes was a bad lie. Hell. But welcome aboard!” 

Wrangling Tony is a lot like dealing with a goldfish. He’s a genius; she sees that when she walks into his house and sees about seven different projects lying around, and at least two papers that have notes about redoing a filtration system for drinking water. 

He is also incredibly stupid. 

“You have fifteen coffee cups out.” 

“Impossible, I don’t own that many!” 

“Aw, did you not take counting classes in preschool?” 

Tony likes her. A lot. She’s got a bite of wit, no-bullshit when it comes to business, and never misses a beat. She also has a killer sense of style, and is the one who makes sure he’s not wearing a weird mixture of jeans and a sport coat. 

“No.” 

“Come on, it’s not like fashion actually matters that much. Well, not to me.” 

“It should. You should be the most creatively dressed male out there, and you’re not. A black suit? God, that’s...that’s sad. No, I ordered you a blue silk suit. Embroidered with flowers all over, matching shoes with inverted colors. Come on. In you go.” 

“Ugh.” 

(His outfit is a smashing success, by the way. They ask who his stylist is, and he just says “Oh, my personal assistant said she would bury me in my garden if I wore a black suit. I would’ve dug it myself, looking on this now.”) 

- 

She does not tell him for a long time. At all. Because people are...weird about it. Weird questions, weird statements, and compliments so backhanded she doesn’t like to call them compliments. 

But at some point, she needs to tell him. Or she wants to. She wants to, she doesn’t have to. Yeah. 

Okay. So she’s in love with him. A tiny bit. 

- 

He makes her coffee. Every morning. Creamer goes into the mug first, then coffee. That’s the only way she takes it. 

He compliments her a lot, and she knows that this shouldn’t be a reason that love qualifies but it’s nice to hear. He also bought her a very expensive pair of shoes. 

Pepper honestly does want to tell him. She also does not want to lose her job, however. So she needs to gauge the situation. Maybe talk to some of her girlfriends, see what’s up. 

- 

Well then her boss goes missing for months and comes back and obviously you can’t tell someone you’re in love with them after they come back with an electromagnetic device in their chest. That’s just crazy. 

He came back...different. New circumstances, new outlook on life. She relates a tiny little bit. 

She buys herself a beautiful blue dress. He gives her his credit card, tells her to buy herself something nice, and goddammit she’s never been one to really disobey her boss. (Just bend some rules. Or create new ones that negate the old ones.) 

She curls her hair and only curses eight times, which is actually pretty good. Her usual amount of cursing per-curling-session is about eighty-two. 

He looks at her like she’s an angel, and she thinks...yeah. Okay. She’ll tell him that she’s in love with him. 

- 

Well then his uncle decides to attempt to kill him. God, what a mood killer. She hates this. 

- 

They’re laying down in his house on the patio, and he’s sipping on a smoothie that she’s honestly sure is 100% gross, and he turns to her. 

“Would you ever want to go on a date with me?” 

Pepper blinks. 

“Yes,” she says without skipping a beat. “But we need to have a discussion before I dedicate myself to this cause.” 

“What am I, a Salvation Army donation bin?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Then dinner-and-discussion tonight. Not a date. Just...talking.” 

- 

She’s nervous. She’s put her hair up so that she won’t run her fingers through it, but now she’s just fidgeting with her necklace and bracelet. 

Tony looks nice. He’s in a casual graphic tee and old jeans that are older than she actually knew they could hold together. She is in old shorts and a tank top and yeah it’s casual but it’s also nice and wow she’s really over-thought this. 

“So, what are your concerns?” Tony says. Getting to the point straight-away, that’s always his move. Pepper gulps. 

“You mind if I get water?” 

“Not at all.” 

She sips on water. 

“My concern is that I’m transgender and you need to know that before we pursue anything.” 

Tony blinks. 

“Um. Okay. Was not expecting that right out. I was more thinking you would have a problem with my new armor and Rhodey and I being immature when he visits and also how much time I spend on inventing.” 

“Well yeah, those too. But I deal with those all the time. But I’m also concerned about you pissing off the government and them sending secret agents to kill us.” 

Jarvis cuts in smoothly. 

“I am afraid, Miss Potts, that they wouldn’t make it two hundred feet of this current residence. Would you like me to update security protocols at other residences around the globe?” 

“You can do that?” Pepper asks. 

“Yes, Miss Potts.” 

“Please do update, thank you.” 

Tony grins, looking at her. The same way. Which is kind of exhilarating, all things considered. 

“You amaze me. J, remind me that if Pep and I break up, I need to build a bunker that could withstand a nuclear war.” 

“I will not remind you of that, as I’m sure it will be on you,” Jarvis remarks. 

Pepper snorts. 

“I wasn’t aware that I was going to turn my AI against myself,” Tony sighs. “Such is life.” 

Pepper grins. He squeezes her hand. 

“You want to celebrate this with wine? I’m sure tomorrow you’ll have me signing so many forms for workplace relationships that I’ll cry by two p.m.” 

“Make that one p.m., and you’ll be fine you big baby,” Pepper teases. 

Tony blows her a kiss as he gets up from the couch. 

“Thank you. For telling me. I know that that’s hard to tell people. Discuss more of it later, or now?” 

“Mm, later. It’s late at night, I’m tired.” 

“Gotcha. You want red or white tonight?” 

“...Red.” 

Tony grins, getting out the wine glasses. He pours carefully and expertly, and raises his. They clink their glasses together. 

“Cheers to more success. For the both of us.” 

Pepper grins softly. 

“For success.” 

[apex-academy]

Chapter 5: Caring Is a Hazard to Your Health (#18)

The second round begins. Or the second... whatever. I don’t pay attention to bracket terms, I just play when they tell me to play.

Not much point in switching horses mid-stream, so I stick with the blob knight vampire guy. Yuki takes the big-eyed pink thing again. And apparently the other half of us don’t care for that strategy, because Ichiriki goes for Pikachu—yes, I actually recognized that one, shut up—and Kanagi switches to some ripped martial arts guy. 

Aidan picks out another stage. I vaguely wonder if he let himself lose, since he’s the one who’s actually played this thing before. But I guess it’s harder to work the controller at a competitive speed one-handed. He doesn’t seem to be taking his loss particularly hard, so it’s not worth thinking about too much.

The countdown starts, and off we go. Yuki summarily launches herself off the edge of a cloud and into the void.

“Oh... Wrong way.”

“...”

The rest of us resume beating each other up while she’s busy regenerating or respawning or whatever it is. I don’t know what the heck move Ichiriki keeps spamming, but it’s sure doing a number on us.

“MY GUY STARTED DOING SOMETHING WEIRD what the crap.”

Kanagi keeps smashing buttons, but apparently she’s having more trouble controlling it than her last choice. I manage to knock her off the screen. And then Ichiriki takes me out immediately afterward.

“What even is this game.”

Chaos, but at least having half the players means I can freaking tell where I am without having to whip out the bat wings. Unfortunately, that does not save me from getting pummeled off the screen by some freaking background character that isn’t even one of our guys. 

There isn’t much more of a struggle before Ichiriki is the last animal-thing standing.

“And that makes Mister Tokino our first finalist! Only one spot left, and he can still take it all right now if he wins the next match!”

“This is fun!”

“Yeah, like, of course it’s fun, you’re winning.”

“But you won’t take me out next round, dude!”

“I guess we’ll have to see~! Hee hee!”

I’d ask why he’s laughing like that, but at this point I’m giving up on asking questions.

And for the last battle of this round, Kanagi switches again to some guy in a pink hoodie. Guess she had enough of karate guy.

Either way, it’s onto the next round. Everything’s going fine until the stage starts crumbling beneath us.

“Why do we have to keep changing stages?”

“You’ll have to stay on your toes if you want to win this tournament, Miss Kogamino!”

“Apparently so.”

If nothing else, we manage to gang up on Ichiriki and throw him out before he can zap us all to death. Kanagi then proceeds to knock out Yuki’s guy, which was apparently some kind of accident.

“Oh my gosh?”

“I LOVE THIS DUDE!”

“That’s nice.”

Down to the two of us now, and it stays pretty close—until Kanagi misses a punch and it somehow launches her off the stage completely. She just stares at the screen as her character goes up in flames, or whatever that’s supposed to be.

“What the...”

“THIS DUDE SUCKS!”

“........”

She throws her controller to the floor as Aidan announces me as finalist and declares another intermission.

“You!”

“Me?”

“Don’t think this is over!”

She whips around, nearly smacking me with her hair tie.

“And you too!”

“.......”

“I WILL DESTROY BOTH OF YOU!”

“At what, exactly?”

Kanagi looks around the room before swinging her arm around to point at one of the machines.

“THAT!”

I squint long enough to make out “Centipede” written across the top of it.

“Is that even a game you’ve played before?”

“I’LL STILL CRUSH YOU!!”

“Okay.”

“Hummmmm, Kanagi...”

“I can still make you some dorayaki tomorrow...”

“It’s not the same.”

“Chill out, brah.” Kaichi claps a hand on her shoulder. “Need t’ drown your sorrows in some grinds?”

“I don’t even know what that means!”

“Food?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds legit.”

And off they go to the popcorn table. I’m out of disbelieving commentary for the day, so I’m just gonna get another drink. By the time I fetch that, conversations have broken out again. Pretty sure I’m gonna get recruited into one eventually, so I at least avoid the group with Tsunyasha and Kanagi.

“But you’re not having any trouble...?”

“Everything’s perfectly under control. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“.......”

“What are we worrying about?”

Aidan wheels back a bit to give me space.

“Oh, Miss Kurokame was just checking in on me.”

“Hummmmm...”

“It’s at least harder to wash your hair, isn’t it...?”

“What do you mean?”

“One-handed and all...”

“And, hummm...”

“You can kind of tell just by looking... Sorry.”

“Oh?”

Well, hard to say much of anything in this light, but I guess it’s on the greasier side, sure. Not smelling too great over here, either, but considering we have eight fairly active people and four weird flavors of popcorn crammed into this room, I’d be wary of pinning that on anyone in particular.

“I mean, you are still showering and everything, right?”

“I assure you that’s the last thing I have any interest in skipping out on.”

Can’t counter that.

“You could’ve just said yes.”

“He doesn’t tend to ‘just’ say anything...”

“Yes, yes, the point has been made.”

He opens his mouth to continue, but I interrupt.

“But there’s no bench in there, right? And the baths are pretty deep. Can you stand long enough to get in either?”

“Um. I can’t stand at the moment, no, but...”

“I don’t think the wheelchair would fit in there, either, right...?”

Aidan sucks in a sharp breath.

“Fine, okay, I’ve been mostly subsisting off hand sanitizer and deodorant for the time being and it’s not entirely effective, but!”

“I’ve already rigged up some systems to help, I’m just making sure they’re absolutely safe before I try them!”

“It’s slow going with few tools available and the situation as it is, but progress is progress, and it’s nothing to be that concerned about, all right?”

“...”

“...So you haven’t bathed at all since you came back.”

“No and I’m dying on the inside a little bit but it’s FINE.”

He takes a deep breath.

“As previously stated, the solution is forthcoming, and if all we’re going to do this break is fuss about it, I might as well start the tournament finals already.”

“There’s a public bath now, though, right...?”

“Would that work?”

He’s getting all fidgety now. Can’t stand or stand still, apparently.

He sighs. “The layout would be easier, yes, but a structure that size is going to be far more of a drowning hazard when I can’t really guarantee I would stay conscious.”

“And that’s the reason for changing the lock, right? Have you seriously been passing out that much?”

“No!!! I just like to be prepared!”

So you prioritized that over showering when you don’t even like to handle papers other people have touched. Right.

“Hummmm... It’s a public bath, though, right...? So you could have someone else help...”

“Who, exactly? I’m not sure Mister Attenborough is in condition to handle the heat of that room for long, I’m afraid I don’t tr... care for Mister Tokino’s company all that much, and the circumstances may not be terribly safe for Mister Riseiin, either.”

I guess a girl wouldn’t be a valid solution? Well, I’m not volunteering.

“Hey, ‘m I being trash-talked o’er here?”

Right, we’re not exactly alone. I shuffle to the side so Kaichi can fit in the little circle we’ve got going.

“Oh, no...! Just... talking?”

I peer at Kaichi for a second.

“He does literally carry a flotation device with him everywhere he goes. The bath’s not that big.”

“Yes, but...”

“Oh...! And he’s technically a medical professional...!”

“I would like to argue that being a professional involves more than knowledge and talent.”

“That’s fair.”

“ ’m trying t’ use my context clues, but you’re not making ‘t easy, brahs.”

“It’s noth—”

“We were wondering if you could... look after Aidan in the bathhouse so he won’t get hurt if he falls asleep in there...”

Aidan’s mouth twists like he was this close to yelling “MOM” just now.

“I mean, ‘s chill with me.”

He waves his notebook.

“And if ‘s anything embarrassing, I won’t remember it ‘n five minutes, anyway.”

“.......”

“Well there’s no time to head there tonight regardless, so there’s no need for us to discuss this right now!!”

“I’ll consider it, okay?”

“But we’re here tonight to have a good time, not to worry about every little thing, so if you would please! Let! The topic! Rest!!”

Before anyone can interrupt him again, he raises his voice, cupping his hand toward the rest of the room.

“Who’s ready for the final match of the tournament?!”

Apparently Kanagi’s feeling good enough to whoop along with Ichiriki.

“I’m half of the final match, do I get a say?”

Regardless, it looks like it’s go time. I’ve had enough of whatever that was, anyway. Seems like we got somewhere? Still, I can’t decide if I should be concerned or not, and it leaves me vaguely distracted for the match. Which is only compounded by the fact Ichiriki chose yet another character, who goes flying around on motorcycles and...

“Did I just get eaten?”

I don’t even know anymore. I end up losing, but I can’t say I’m disappointed. This whole night has been so surreal I’m not sure I’m capable of feeling that.

Fun? Maybe. Hard to say when the whole world feels muted, like everything is behind some thick pane of glass. But it’s still there, I guess. I’m still close enough to know what’s going on.

It could be worse.

[BACK] [NEXT]

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 02/47

“What are you going to do?”

Rey shrugged, unable to respond. She stirred the verbena tea in her mug mechanically, avoiding the look Jessica was giving her. After a long silence interrupted only by slurping her scalding drink.

“I dunno. Leave?” She said softly.

Jessica’s eyes widened. She had never seen Rey quite like this. Physically, sure—Jessica had seen her disheveled, her eyes red from crying so much, and bags forming under them from the lack of sleep. But it wasn’t just that. Rey was having an emotional breakdown so violent that even her best friend and confidante couldn’t seem to comfort her.

That Saturday in June had been magnificent. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of summer blooms; they could hear children were laughing in the street, taking advantage of the final hours of the day. As evening fell on London, the sky streaked gold and crimson. It should have been perfect for a wedding.

Until last week, Rey’s life had been perfect. She had a marvelous job as Happiness Manager™ in a posh startup in Uptown, her gorgeous fiancé Finn who cherished her, her lovely flat on Betterton Street, her absolute gift of seeing the best in everyone she met, and her extensive collection of Irregular Choice pumps.

And then everything had collapsed.

Finn had left her, and Rey had lost her wedding, her flat, and her smile, in that order.

She kept the job and the shoe collection. At least she had those, thought Jessica, never the cynic.

She took Rey’s hand gently.

“You can come live with me as long as you want,”

Rey looked up, emerging from her thoughts. Even tear-stained she was still beautiful, with hazel eyes and freckled cheeks. Rey shook her head.

“That’s kind of you. I’ll take you up on it when I get back. But I’m talking about leaving to catch my plane tomorrow.”

“What plane?”

“My honeymoon. The flight to Denver is tomorrow noon. The ticket has already been paid for and it’s non-refundable, I’ve already asked for two weeks off. Married or not, it’s easier to fly there.”

“Alone? I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Rey. You’re shell shocked and miserable, it doesn’t sound like a good idea to go to the U.S. for two whole weeks in your state.”

Rey got up, running a hand through her hair. She hadn’t brushed it in forever and the split ends resisted her fingers.

“Exactly! I don’t have anything to lose. I don’t have the bloke or the flat, I have to pay for the wedding venue, the DJ, and the caterers for nothing. Two weeks of vacation for the first time in ages seems pretty reasonable. And frankly, I don’t have the courage to show up to work tomorrow and face my coworkers and their questions. Travelling can help change my mind about this! Today was supposed to be my wedding day. The best day of my life--” her voice fractured into a sob, shoulders sagging. “And he left me, the bastard…”

Jessica rose and Rey leaned against her, letting the tears flow because she could no longer hold them in. What the blazes had gotten into Finn?

Last Monday he called Rey and told her it was better to call the wedding off. She refused to even think about it, obviously. Everything was ready, all the invites confirmed, the catering paid for, and most importantly, they had been together for four years now. This wedding was the ultimate symbol of their love for each other, right? Finn had launched into a monologue about how much he had really loved her, blah, blah, blah, but .

There had been a but .

There was always a but, when going down the aisle.

This but was Poe, his best friend. Poe had admitted his feeling for Finn before he could marry someone else for the rest of his life and thus become the one that got away.  And this declaration of love was a revelation for Finn. He reexamined his life like a film, his childhood, his social awkwardness, the teasing he endured in school, crushing on his teammates on the football team—and he had an epiphany. He was in love with Poe! And he was going to marry Rey in a week.  The wait transformed into something utterly terrifying (and full of an anguish that he passed off as emotionality ). He was going to destroy his life, but what else could he possibly do? Marry her and string her along even when he knew his heart belonged to someone else? Rey deserved the truth, at the very least. But that would mean breaking her heart, dashing her hopes of their future, and—priorities, priorities—calling off the ceremony.

Baffled, Rey broke down at Jessica’s place. Jessica was then put in charge of informing guests of the cancellation. A disappointing and painful task which she took on for the sake of her friend.

Finn sent a couple texts asking to pick up some of his clean laundry, and Jessica told him he had no chance in hell. He could very well wear Poe’s stuff!

But that couldn’t go on forever. He had to come back at some point to handle moving out, doing all the joint paperwork, and splitting their bank accounts, financially speaking. The figurative splitting would come later, of course.  Priorities first!

Rey resumed her place on the canape cushions and brought the mug to her lips. Jess sat facing her.

“Rey, it’s a bad idea to go alone. You’re shattered right now and that’s completely understandable. I get it.  But I want you to avoid getting snookered in foreign territory,”

“That has nothing to do with it,” Rey replied. She straightened her gaze and her eyes held a new confidence.  “A change would do me some good. The more I think about it the more I see it’s the most intelligent thing to do. I’ll go off for two weeks, alone,  and do this whole road trip. I’ll see the country, meet some new people, clear my mind, and come back ready to confront it all…all the obstacles waiting for me. But in all seriousness, I need a break.”

Jessica pursed her lips, considering the arguments. Rey continued:

“Do you want to stay in the apartment for me? Finn wants to collect some of his stuff. That way he can do it in my absence. I don’t even want to consider running into Poe.”

“Fine,” Jessica conceded. “I’ll stay here while you’re gone and help Finn move. But only if you let me give him a proper beating,”

Rey laughed, for the first time in days.  Her cheeks regained color, and for a second she looked alive and well again.

“Anything you want, but can I ask another favor? Can you drop me off at the airport tomorrow?” (more after the cut)

Rey grimaced, stifled by the burning heat of the airport parking garage. She’d gone through a grand total of ten hours of flight, seven hours of jet lag, three liters of tears, six boxes of tissue paper, and yet she had zero idea of what to do now.

She passed customs ("yes it's my first time in the United States, yes I have repatriation insurance, no I’m not here for work, no I was not a Nazi in 1945") and  picked up her suitcase from baggage claim. She remained dazed for a few minutes afterward, contemplating the swarm of vehicles and travelers. Behind her, the sliding doors let out a breath of air-conditioning every time they opened for a visitor.

Rey was overrun with fatigue, but she had to hold on for a few more hours. First of all: find a taxi, then, check into the hotel, and then she could finally crumble.

The wait for the taxi wasn’t long once she found the departure area. She gave the hotel’s address and finally allowed herself to breathe. Everything was different here, a vast, dry stretch of yellow prairie and red dust.  In the distance, she could see the blue outline of the Rockies, and in front of her the multilane motorway (she supposed she should call it a highway like the Americans) stretched out towards the silhouette of the Denver skyline.

A second later, the driver’s voice dragged her from her slumber. She had fallen asleep without even realizing. The woman pointed out the hotel entrance, retrieved her suitcase from the boot, and just stood there, waiting.

Rey hesitated. Was she supposed to do something?

Suddenly, it dawned on her that she needed a tip, and she realized with horror that she didn’t have a single dollar in her pocket. In her rush to leave she hadn’t bothered to exchange currencies yet. With a mixture of shame and confusion, she handed the woman ten quid, spluttering that she could always exchange it. The woman grimaced and got back into the car without taking the money. Rey heard her swear very distinctly and she chewed on her lip in remorse. She had to get her act together! Grabbing her suitcase with her left hand, she rushed across the pedestrian crossing toward the Four Seasons entrance.

She didn’t so much see as hear the car that bumped into her.

The massive black pickup halted in a screech of tires and Rey’s suitcase bounced against the chrome bull bar. Stupefied, she stared at her suitcase on the ground. The side was smashed in and the handle twisted, she then looked up to the vehicle that had sprung to her left.

The door opened and a man stepped out. The first thought Rey had was that he was the spitting image of his car: towering, dark, and aggressive.

He reached her in two strides.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You threw yourself at my car! Don’t you think you should look before crossing?!”

“I—I’m sorry,” Rey sputtered.

She tried to smile to appease her interlocutor, but felt tears come to her eyes.

“I’m British, I just got here. I looked at the wrong side of the road,”

He assessed her from head to toe, and after ensuring that she had broken nothing apart from her suitcase, verified that there was no damage done to his pickup. Rey thought that it was so big that it could have broken in half without even feeling the aftershock.

Essentially, the vehicle was intact. The man ran a hand through his long, dark hair, and bent over to retrieve the twisted handle of Rey’s rolling suitcase, which he handed to her. Then he turned around and got back into the imposing pickup.

“ Fucking tourists ,” he muttered as he closed the door.

He roared the engine and Rey wondered what he was compensating for with such a huge car. She imagined the vehicle in the narrow, winding streets of London and suppressed a burst of laughter. He wouldn’t even make it past the first intersection and that would be quite the disaster!

A loud honk made her jump. She was still standing in the middle of the road, suitcase in hand. Gathering herself, still processing the shock that she was nearly killed less than an hour into her vacation; she trotted across the crossing to the hotel.

She turned around just in time to see the pickup and its obnoxious owner in the distance. There was a “KYLO REN” bumper sticker on the back and she wondered what it meant. A rock band, maybe?

“Moron!”

She stuck her tongue out at him, a feeble reconciliation considering this disastrous encounter, and took a deep breath.

“Alright, cheer up! Happy vacation from now on. It can only get better from here, from right now…I hope…” *** Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

[newstfionline]

Monday, November 30, 2020

Turns out working from home means more work (LinkedIn) Employees around the world put in on average half an hour more each day while working from home during lockdowns, workplace software developer Atlassian says in a report. Out of the 65 countries studied, only Brazil and China logged shorter hours during the crisis. Based on when employees interacted with Atlassian’s software, the study also found that people started to shift their workload from the afternoons to mornings and evenings—suggesting greater flexibility, but also a trend of work intruding on what is typically considered downtime.

A professor offered to deliver Thanksgiving meals to all her students (Washington Post) When the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention issued recommendations against traveling or gathering for Thanksgiving, Liz Pearce, a longtime lecturer at the University of Iowa, was worried for her students. “I was afraid many of them might be spending the holiday alone, without a proper Thanksgiving meal,” said Pearce, 61. “I’m a mom and wouldn’t want anybody to feel alone and sad.” Plus, she added, “a lot of local businesses are closing down, and many students work part time in the restaurants and bars, so their sources of income have dried up.” The communication studies professor and mother of four swiftly drafted an email to her 130 students on Thursday, spontaneously offering to hand-deliver a warm, traditional Thanksgiving meal. Finally, Pearce offered to provide additional portions for roommates or significant others. Then, she hit send, having no idea her thoughtful gesture would soon go viral. Within hours, the post amassed close to 1 million likes, over 70,000 retweets, and thousands of comments. For Pearce, the offer to cook for her students was “no big deal,” she said. “I just wanted everyone to know that there was room at my virtual table.” Pearce’s children are especially excited about cooking for students this Thanksgiving, she said. In fact, her 10-year-old son asked to make it an annual tradition. Given the outpouring of support, Pearce decided to pass along the same email to the whole undergraduate class of more than 600 people. She wants to ensure that anyone staying behind in Iowa City is well taken care of. “I don’t want any one student to feel like they are alone,” said Pearce.

Pandemic calls off Christmas markets in Europe (AP) The European plazas where people would usually gather at crowded stalls to partake in hot mulled wine, gingerbread, sausages and other delicacies are just empty squares. Christmas markets, a cherished tradition in Germany and neighboring countries, have joined the long list of annual traditions that were canceled or diminished this year because of the coronavirus pandemic. November saw many European countries impose partial or tougher lockdowns as new virus cases soared. The restrictions are either being retained or only partially loosened as Advent begins Sunday. Nuremberg’s sprawling, bustling Christkindlesmarkt, one of Germany’s best known holiday markets and traditionally a big tourist draw, was called off a month ago. Markets across the country—including in Frankfurt, Dortmund and many in Berlin—have suffered the same fate, with authorities canceling the events or organizers concluding that it didn’t make sense to push ahead with their plans. Over the border in France, the roughly 300 stalls of Strasbourg’s popular Christmas market won’t go up this year. And it’s the same story in the Belgian capital, Brussels.

French protesters clash with police over new security law (AFP) Violent clashes erupted in Paris Saturday as tens of thousands took to the streets to protest against new security legislation, with tensions intensified by the police beating and racial abuse of a black man that shocked France. Several fires were started in Paris, sending acrid smoke into the air, as protesters vented their anger against the security law which would restrict the publication of police officers’ faces. Some 46,000 people marched in Paris and 133,000 in total nationwide, the interior ministry said. Protest organisers said some 500,000 joined nationwide, including 200,000 in the capital. President Emmanuel Macron said late Friday that the images of the beating of black music producer Michel Zecler by police officers in Paris last weekend “shame us”. The incident had magnified concerns about alleged systemic racism in the police force.

Pope urges finding good even from pandemic (AP) Pope Francis is encouraging people to try to take away something good “even from the difficult situation that the pandemic forces on us.” Addressing faithful gathered a safe distance apart in vast St. Peter’s Square on Sunday, Francis offered these suggestions: “greater sobriety, discrete and respectful attention to neighbors who might be in need, some moments of prayer in the family with simplicity.” Francis said that “these three things will help us a lot.”

Turkey’s new virus figures confirm experts’ worst fears (AP) When Turkey changed the way it reports daily COVID-19 infections, it confirmed what medical groups and opposition parties have long suspected—that the country is faced with an alarming surge of cases that is fast exhausting the Turkish health system. In an about-face, President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s government this week resumed reporting all positive coronavirus tests—not just the number of patients being treated for symptoms—pushing the number of daily cases to above 30,000. With the new data, the country jumped from being one of the least-affected countries in Europe to one of the worst-hit. That came as no surprise to the Turkish Medical Association, which has been warning for months that the government’s previous figures were concealing the graveness of the spread and that the lack of transparency was contributing to the surge. The group maintains, however, that the ministry’s figures are still low compared with its estimate of at least 50,000 new infections per day. The country’s hospitals are overstretched, medical staff are burned out and contract tracers, who were once credited for keeping the outbreak under check, are struggling to track transmissions, Sebnem Korur Fincanci, who heads the association, told The Associated Press. “It’s the perfect storm,” said Fincanci, whose group has come under attack from Erdogan and his nationalist allies for questioning the government’s figures and its response to the outbreak.

South Korea bans year-end parties, some music lessons, as virus spikes again (Reuters) South Korean authorities announced a ban on year-end parties and some music lessons on Sunday and said public saunas and some cafes must also close after coronavirus infections surged at their fastest pace since the early days of the pandemic. South Korea has been one of the world’s coronavirus mitigation success stories but spikes in infections have reappeared relentlessly, triggering alarm in Asia’s fourth-largest economy. Prime Minister Chung Sye-kyun said restrictions would be tightened on gatherings and activities seen as prone to virus transmission, especially in the capital Seoul and surrounding urban areas.

Severe fire danger for Australia as temperatures smash records (Reuters) Parts of Australia, including Sydney, sweltered through the hottest November night on record with temperatures likely to stay high on Sunday, prompting authorities to issue a total fire ban. Sydney CBD surpassed 40 degrees Celsius (104 F) on Saturday while swathes of western New South Wales, South Australia and northern Victoria baked through even higher temperatures nearing 45 degrees. Temperatures are expected to cross 40 degrees for a second straight day on Sunday while the Bureau of Meteorology has predicted a five or six-day heatwave for parts of northern New South Wales and southeast Queensland.

Attack on Afghan army base with car bomb kills at least 30 (Washington Post) A Humvee laden with explosives backed by gunmen struck an Afghan army base in central Afghanistan Sunday, killing at least 30 people and wounding 16, according to local officials. Local media is reporting that most of the casualties were members of the security forces. The bombing is one of the single deadliest attacks to strike Afghanistan in recent months, where violence has been on the rise nationwide despite ongoing peace talks between the Taliban and Afghan government in Doha. Ghazni, seated along a key highway that connects the Afghan capital to the country’s south, is one of the least stable provinces in Afghanistan, with roughly two-thirds of its districts controlled or contested by Taliban fighters.

Sudan inflation soars, raising spectre of hyperinflation (Reuters) Inflation in Sudan has risen to one of the highest levels in the world, and the country risks slipping into hyperinflation unless it gets its budget deficit and money supply under control, economists say. The government has run up enormous budget deficits by subsidising the cost of fuel, then financed the deficits by printing money. This has debased the currency, weakening it against other currencies and driving inflation up to annual 230% in October, according to the state statistics bureau. The skyrocketing prices have led many consumers to spend their salaries quickly, particularly on durable items that hold their value. Idrees Abdelmoniem, who works in marketing at an engineering company in Khartoum, said he had snapped up car spare parts and furniture, but was not as quick with food and drink, whose prices were not increasing as fast. “If I have something I want to buy outside of the monthly house supplies, I buy it as soon as I get money, and I won’t even try to haggle because tomorrow it could be double the price,” he said.

Ethiopia says military operation in Tigray region is over (Reuters) The Ethiopian government launched a manhunt on Sunday for leaders of a rebellious faction in the northern region of Tigray after announcing federal troops had taken over the regional capital and military operations were complete. Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed government has been trying to quell a rebellion by the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), a powerful ethnically-based party that dominated the central government from 1991 until Abiy came to power in 2018. He said on Saturday evening federal troops had taken control of the Tigrayan capital Mekelle within hours of launching an offensive there, laying to rest fears of protracted fighting in the city of 500,000 people. The prime minister, who refers to the three-week-old conflict as an internal law and order matter and has rebuffed international offers of mediation, said federal police will try to arrest TPLF “criminals” and bring them to court. However, TPLF leader Debretsion Gebremichael told Reuters in a text message on Saturday evening that TPLF forces would fight on, raising the prospect that the conflict could drag on.

[ai-suru-hito-yo]

Calling You (Gardner Langway x Reader)

Summary: You and Gardner have been in a relationship for about a year now. Things are going great, the ups make the downs completely worth it, and you’re so in love with this goofball it almost hurts. Based on Calling You by Blue October.

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, probably rambling, very light references to possible smut but nothing detailed or explicit, some angst but I only write happy endings.

A/N: Sorry I don’t have the next part of WFSTRM ready yet! My dumb ass almost forgot I signed up for this event so I’ve been working on pumping this baby out. It’s just a lot of projection, honestly, because I am lonely and would very much like a cute and goofy ginger of my own (ahem Joe Mazzello hmu) Not beta’d because what are this? Written for @littledarlingwellaway​ ‘s 1k/Birthday extravaganza! Lyrics in italics. Timeline jumps around through different events in the relationship.

There's something that I can't quite explain

I'm so in love with you

You'll never take that away

You stared at the popcorn ceiling of your bedroom in your tiny apartment. No matter how long you stared, no matter how many little bumps you counted, sleep would not come. It was quiet except for a dog barking in the distance, and the quiet, deep breathing of the man currently sprawled across your chest, auburn locks in disarray after the number of times he had nervously run his fingers through his hair.

You and Gardner had just experienced your first real fight. You had been together for about 8 months now, and those months had been filled with mostly bliss, minus a bump or two in the road as you navigated the newness of suddenly finding someone else and their needs a part of your life. You had been out at date night, and Gardner said something accidentally insensitive (And what was it anyway? You could not possibly recall anymore, it was so trivial.) You had a bad day at work and immediately took the comment to heart, resulting in a serious overreaction and argument to end the night. You had fled home, only to see Gardner running up the sidewalk about 20 minutes later, a look of utmost determination on his face.

Finally, after talking things through and lots of reassurance, he finally passed out on your bed with you, wrapped entirely around your body, as if afraid you might slip away in the night if he failed to keep you anchored.

You looked down at his face, peaceful and relaxed in his sleep, looking paler than usual and downright ethereal in the moonlight streaming through your window. His plush lips parted slightly as he exhaled, and you studied last dark eyelash as they fanned against his pale cheeks. Your fingers gently brushed through his wild hair, and he stirred slightly. You froze, afraid the touch had woken him, but all he did was rub his face against your sweater before the sound of deep breaths filled the room once again.

As you resumed your stroking of his hair, you realized that whatever it was you had argued about was unimportant. You knew you loved Gardner, there was absolutely no doubt in your mind how you felt about the goofy, soft, awkward, beautiful man with his boat and his stamp collection and his zest for life and his unrelenting passion for the people and the things he cared about. You felt your eyelids slowly droop closed as you took comfort in the weight of your boyfriend pressing into you, keeping you safe and warm and loved.

And if I've said a hundred times before

Expect a thousand more

You'll never take that away

The first time he said it was an accident. He had truly not thought about it, not taken the time to really analyze how he felt about you, caught up as he was in the exhilaration of finding you and learning about you and developing this new, wonderful thing with you.

It was the simplest thing, too, that made him say it. He had been trying to make you laugh, telling you about some of the dumb suggestions Calvin had made as far as his next employment opportunity after he had quit being a mailman. Some throw-away comment that he made just as you had reached for your drink caused you to laugh and nearly drop the glass, which just caused you to laugh even more. Your eyes lit up and you threw your head back in mirth, letting out an unrestrained laugh, loud and happy, and it just hit him.

“God, I love you.”

Your laughter died down to soft giggles, before you realized what exactly he said. Your smile was still plastered on your face, but your eyes grew wide in shock. “W-what?”

“Um, I said I- yeah, yeah, I love you. I really do.”

You stared at him for a moment, silently, and Gardner could feel his heart rate pick up, his palms going sweaty from nerves. Had he said the wrong thing? Was it too soon? Should he not have said it? He was absolutely certain it was the truth, but now he was terrified he would scare you away.

“I-I'm sorry. I mean, I'm not sorry for how I feel, I won't apologize for that. But I'm sorry if you didn't want to hear that. I'm sorry If that was too soon. I'm really sorr--”

You never found out what else he was sorry for as you grabbed his shirt front and pulled him to you, right there in the middle of the bar, and planted your lips against his, effectively shutting him up for the next few minutes. When you finally pulled away again, you made sure to whisper for Gardner only,

“I love you, too, idiot.”

So expect me to be

Calling you to see

If you're okay when I'm not around

Asking if you love me

I love the way you make it sound

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since your boyfriend had been dragged off by his “brother” on some boys' trip as he had called it, leaving you behind and without his presence for 21 long days. They were due back at the end of the week, seven days that seemed to stretch out like a year before you.

You dragged yourself back home after another long day at work, wanting nothing more than the pint of Rocky Road in your freezer and a nice, long sleep. After a scalding hot shower, you put on your favorite pajamas (fuzzy warm pants and one of Gardner's old, faded t-shirts) and promptly fell asleep before you were even able to so much as braid your hair back for the night.

What must have been several hours later, judging by the darkness outside, you were pulled slowly from a rather deep sleep by an annoying and insistent sound. You reached toward your alarm clock, only to realize that the source of the noise was actually your phone, which you hd left on your bed during your shower and was now lodged somewhere under you. You lifted your leg and dug around, retrieved it from under your thigh, and promptly smashed the volume button before throwing it back down by your pillow. You were just about asleep again when the stupid thing started vibrating, alerting you to another call. This time you decided to answer it, letting out little more than a tired grunt.

“'Lo?”

There was a moment of silence, and then an robotic voice greeted you. “Hello. You have a collect call from,” pause, then a familiar voice, “It's me!!” you sat bolt upright, nearly dropping the phone. “Do you accept the charges?”

“Yes!” you practically scream into the phone. “Yes I accept!”

There was a bit of noise down the line, then quiet for a moment, before you tentatively spoke up again, “Uh...Gardner?”

“Honey I am so sorry it's collect I SWEAR I will pay you back!” Gardner's tired and slightly panicked voice called out to you. “I promise, the moment I get ho-”

“I don't give a shit about that,” you interrupted him, feeling an ache in your chest ease at the sound of his voice. You had been a little worried all day as you had not heard form him or Calvin for nearly three whole days now. Usually Gardner was calling you every night, excitedly telling you where they were now, what they had seen that day, and reassuring you that he loved you and he would be home soon. “Why are you calling collect? Where's your phone? Better yet, where have you been for three days, I've been so worried!”

“I know, I'm sorry,” your boyfriend assured you softly. Then his voice jumped an octave like it always did when he was irritated. “It's not because I didn't want to call, believe me. Let's just say Calvin had a little...mishap...which resulted in all but one of our bags falling into the Mississippi. My phone, my wallet, my camera, all of my clothes, as well as Calvin's phone, wallet, and clothes all in the bottom of a fucking river. Thankfully Calvin had his passport stashed in his car for some reason. We've spent most of today running around trying to get bank cards replaced so we can get back home.”

You sat in silence, stunned by everything your boyfriend had just told you. You could not decide whether to laugh or cry or scream or ask him if he was lying and playing a prank on you. Instead, you just sighed and asked him, “So, you're coming home, then?”

You could almost feel Gardner's sigh through the phone. “Yes. I'm calling it, we're cutting this road trip short and coming home.”

A squeak left your lips as you tried not to scream and cry. He was coming home early! Gardner was coming home, you would hopefully see him as early as tomorrow afternoon, and it was the best news you had heard in a very long time.

“Baby, I am so sorry your trip has ended on a sour note, I really am. I know you guys were really looking forward to boys time, and you deserve it. But I am so excited to see you,” by the time you reached the end of your statement, you were practically whispering, feeling choked up and near tears. You were acting ridiculous, you knew it, but it had really been tough not to have your goofy boyfriend around, your rock and your source of comfort, the one person you had grown so used to being the one constant in you otherwise hectic life, and it was really affecting your mood and your attitude badly.

A soft huff of laughter sounded over the phone, and Gardner asked, “You really miss me that much?” When you failed to answer right away, his tone turned softer and more serious. “Hey, are you okay?”

You sniffed and promptly pulled yourself together. “Yeah, I just miss you, Gardner. I miss you a lot. When will you be back? Where are you even?”

“I miss you, too, (Y/N). We're in some podunk town in southern Missouri right now. It's about a 9 hour drive home, and we're going straight through, no stops-no stops, Calvin!- except bathroom breaks. So sometime tomorrow afternoon.” The smile that split your face was one to rival the Cheshire cat, and you felt yourself relaxing just a little more as you were reassured that you and Gardner would soon be reunited. Thankfully, you had the whole next day off to plan a little something for just the two of you to enjoy after being apart, a little welcome home party.

“Okay,” you said quietly, phone pressed hard to your ear, as if that would suddenly make the physical distance between you smaller. “I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”

You let out a yawn and heard Gardner laughing down the line. “I'll let you go, honey. I just really needed to hear your voice and to tell you that I'm coming home.”

“I'm glad you did,” you told him honestly. “I had a really shit day, but it's all better now that I know I'll get to see you soon.”

“You still love me?” Gardner asked, and you chuckled.

“Of course I do, silly,” you assured him. “To the moon and back.”

“I know,” your boyfriend told you. “I just love hearing you say it. And I love you, too. More than anything.”

You rang off with promises that you would be home all day and that he could come over as soon as he was back in town. Feeling much warmer and more relaxed, you held the shirt up close to your nose, breathing in the lingering scent of Gardner's soap and distinct smells, and fell asleep with plans for the following evening swirling in your mind.

I thought that the world had lost its sway

Then I fell in love with you

And you took that away

You take away the old

Show me the new

You and Gardner had met shortly after he had gone through a really rough patch in his life. You did not know many details, but from what you gathered after a slightly tipsy conversation with Calvin, Gardner had just lost his job and experienced his first real heartbreak before you came into his life. Well, fell in (quite literally).

You had been in a hurry, rushing to find lunch on your short break from work, and all but ran into a cafe down the street. Unfortunately, someone had been about to step out when you reached to push the door open, and you promptly tripped over them and fell at their feet.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!” a voice called out to you, and a hand circled your arm and helped pull you back to your feet. You brushed off your dress before you caught sight of a pair of feet still in front of you. Your eyes slowly made their way up a pair of legs, up, up, up, until you were looking into a pair of kind and rather stunning hazel eyes. The man before you looked to be about your age, with a strong nose and sharp jawline, skin so pale it was almost translucent, a bright shock of messy, red hair, and a slight smile. Despite the purple shadows under the man's eyes and the general tired look to him, the man was a cutie, and you could feel your face start to heat up as you realized you had been staring for far too long now.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, snapping out of your thoughts. “It's um, no problem. My fault, actually. Should have been paying more attention. Um, I'm (Y/N), by the way. Not that you should care, I'm just some strange girl from off the street.” You were rambling now and you knew it, but you could not seem to make yourself stop. Cutie seemed to be having a strange affect on you and you lost your mental filter entirely.

“I'll...just go now,” you said, promptly turning back to the cafe door, intending to scurry off back to work, appetite gone.

“I don't think you're strange,” Cutie suddenly spoke up.

“What?” you had stopped in your tracks, quickly turning back to him.

“I don't think you're strange,” he said again. “Although, it might seem a little strange for you to walk out of here, empty handed, after having just walked in.”

“Oh. Well I-uh,” you stammered, looking for some excuse, a reason to make a quick getaway. Oh, why doesn't a sinkhole just open up and swallow me whole, you thought as you realized you were caught out.

“Come on, I'm buying you a smoothie,” the stranger said, turning toward the counter before stopping and turning toward you again. “I'm Gardner, by the way.”

Calvin told you he came home that night, smiling for the first time in weeks, and had not stopped since.

“He wouldn't shut up about you, actually,” he said, leaning quite close before pushing himself off of your shoulder back to an upright position. “It was '(Y/N) this' and '(Y/N) that' for three whole days before I asked him if he even got your phone number or anything.”

You glanced at Gardner, who was pink faced and avoiding eye contact with you at the moment, remembering how you had seen him again in the same cafe five days later, and seemed strangely relieved when you pulled a pen from your purse and wrote your number on the back of his hand, telling him he could use it sometime if he wants. It had been a further week after that before he called you, and now you understood why. He had his heart broken, and was probably not entirely keen on repeating the experience.

You stood on slightly wobbly legs and made your way around the table to your boyfriend, wrapped your arms around his neck and perched yourself on his lap. He finally looked up at you, though still a bit reluctant, and you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

He smiled up at you, and you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the curve of his lips for good measure.

“What's that for?” he asked, looking up at you with a slight furrow to his brow. You smoothed it with a light touch before answering him.

“Nothing, really. Just wanted to make sure you know that I love you and I'm not going anywhere any time soon.”

It was quiet for a moment as Calvin had run off to who knows where in the house, following whatever crazy idea his alcohol-drenched brain had come up with. You felt more than heard Gardner take a deep breath before he spoke.

“You know you don't have to worry about me, right?” he asked, head tilted back to look up into your eyes now that his brother was no longer present to spill all his secrets.

“What d'you mean?”

“I mean, that stuff is all in the past. Yeah, I was in a funk when I met you, but as soon as you showed up, it was like it all happened to another person. It wasn't me anymore. You replaced all the bad things that I held onto with the good things I hadn't realized I actually needed. The world became easier to navigate. Nothing seemed to bad or so difficult anymore.”

Gardner ended his little declaration with a shrug, as if he had not just finished saying the most beautiful and profound thing someone had ever said to you in your life.

Instead of answering him, you simply stood and pulled him up to his feet. You wrapped your arms back around his neck, pulling him close and pressing your lips to his again. You felt his arms snake around your waist, locking behind your back and pulling you close. After some time that could have been minutes or hours for all the attention you had paid to the outside world at that moment, you pulled away from him, trailing one hand down his arm and interlacing your fingers with his long ones.

“Come on,” you said, pulling him toward the door.

“Where are we going?” he asked with a puzzled look.

You threw a coy smile over your shoulder before giving his hand another tug. “To the boat.”

Calling you to see

Do I try too hard to make you smile

To make a smile

In hindsight, you really should have seen it coming.

A ring your great-grandmother had given you had gone missing off your dresser. You thought you had placed it down next to your favorite apple cider candle, only for it to disappear, causing you to spend three days searching for it. You searched all the usual places, then all the unusual places, even your desk drawers at work, thinking perhaps you had misplaced it, but it was nowhere to be found. You gave up, officially declaring the jewelry lost, and spent the evening at home alone, trying to figure out how you were going to tell your mother that you lost her grandmother's ring.

You decided to drop by Gardner's boat one afternoon after work, only to walk in to him immediately slamming his laptop shut and staring at you with a wide-eyed, guilty look on his face. When you asked what he was doing, he claimed he was looking for something for Calvin.

“He's always trying new recipes, you know, so I thought I'd look some up for him,” he said, slipping the computer onto a shelf and gesturing for you to come sit by him. You were sure this was a lie, as Googling recipes certainly did not warrant such suspicious behavior, but decided to let it slide, as you had no real reason not to believe him.

However, the strange behavior got worse. One afternoon about two weeks later, you and Gardner both had some time off and were spending it together, when he got a phone call and slipped into another room to answer it. This was odd, as he usually only received calls form you, Calvin, or his boss. It certainly was not you on the other line, and he had never felt the need to leave the room for a call from work or his brother before. You knew it was wrong, but you decided to follow him.

He had stepped outside your apartment and into the hallway, so you stood by your door with your ear pressed against it, trying to catch anything you could. He must have been pacing, because you could only catch a few words at a time as the grew louder and then softer again.

“...sure that's right? How much...? ...meet you there at 4 tomorrow...look forward to it...”

You heard him approach your front door and quickly ran into your bathroom and locked the door behind you. You barely registered the front door opening and closing as your breathing picked up and you began to think of all the worst possibilities for his behavior. You did not register Gardner calling out your name before knocking at the bathroom door. The sound pulled you rather suddenly from your panicked thoughts, and you had to quickly sit down on the toilet lid before you fell over.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” he called through the door, concern evident in his voice. You knew you had to think fast.

“I-I don't feel good,” you called out, which was actually not a lie. You did find yourself suddenly feeling rather ill. “Maybe you should just go home.”

“What?! Are you sick? Unlock the door, let me come in and check on you.”

“No! I um-don't want you to get sick, too. It might be contagious.”

“I don't care. I've been around you all day, if it's contagious I'm gonna get it anyway.”

“Please just go, Gardner,” you called out. “I'm gonna try taking a shower and going to bed early. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he finally relented, sounded disappointed and defeated. “I hope you feel better soon, honey. I love you.”

“Okay, thanks, you too,” you answered, turning on the shower to hopefully drown out any further disappointed sounds or words. Sleep never came to you that night, and you spent the whole next day wound tighter than a drum and jumping at every noise and movement.

At your lunch break you ducked into the ladies' room, hoping to freshen up a bit and try to get your act together for the afternoon. You stood staring at the dark shadows under your eyes that no amount of concealer would cover up, lost in thought, when your phone suddenly started ringing in your purse, causing you to jerk back violently before stomping your foot in pure frustration. You wrenched it out of your bag and answered it without even looking at who was calling.

“Hello?” you practically shouted into the phone?

“Hi, honey,” Gardner's happy voice answered you. “How you feeling today?”

“Fine,” you lied, your grip tightening around your phone.

“Oh, um, well I'm glad to hear that,” the man answered slowly, clearly a little puzzled by your grumpiness. “Think you'd be up for dinner out tonight? My treat.”

“I don't know, Gardner, I didn't sleep the greatest last night and my appetite hasn't been the greatest today,” you answered honestly. You had softened a little, as this was still the man you loved, and thought that maybe you were reacting a little strongly based only on your paranoid suspicions.

“Okay, we'll stay in, then,” he said, clearly not to be deterred from his plan to see you. “Come by the boat. It's supposed to be a beautiful night. I just really want to see you.”

You felt the last of your resolve crumble and you caved, agreeing you would come over. He agreed that if you started to feel ill again, he would bully Calvin into driving you home.

That evening you decided to walk the half a mile or so from your apartment to Calvin's house where Gardner still had his boat parked, taking time to reflect on all that had happened recently. You were not sure what to expect upon arrival, but it certainly was not what you saw.

Gardner had taken the cover off his boat, exposing the deck fully. He had gathered every blanket he owned, as well as a few you were certain you had seen in Calvin's house, as well as every cushion and pillow it seemed he could get his hands on, and piled them on the deck like some sort of hybrid nest-pillow fort. There was a bottle of sparkling cider set beside two trays loaded with food, and fairly lights were strung around the rigging, creating a soft glow around the nest. You had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk just staring at everything, which was where Gardner found you when he emerged from below deck with two glasses in his hands.

“(Y/N)!” he waved at you when he spotted you. “Come on up!” You climbed the ladder to the deck and Gardner reached out to help you on board, hands warm and clammy in they way they were whenever he was nervous.

“Do you like it?” he asked you with a small smile.

“I love it,” you answered honestly. “Did you do all of this?”

“Yep! Well, Calvin helped with the food and dragging all the cushions outside, but it was all my idea. I bought the juice and strung the lights and everything,” Gardner's hands started waving around excitedly as he explained, and you took hold of one again to calm him.

“You did this just for me,” it was more of a statement than a question.

“Well, you seemed so stressed lately I thought it might be nice for you to have a quiet, cozy way to unwind,” he explained, steering you toward a particularly plush looking pile of cushions. You arranged yourself on it in a way that hopefully looked less awkward than it felt, and Gardner promptly wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, enveloping you in warmth and his familiar scent.

You hugged the blanket around yourself, feeling infinitely better, and wondering how you could ever have doubted this wonderful man. He reached out to you with a glass of juice, and soon you both were digging into the food he had prepared. Sandwiches, fruits, and even chocolate and caramel sauces for dipping. It was delicious, and you realized just how hungry you were after barely eating for the past 24 hours. You talked and laughed over your dinner, the conversation slowly dwindling into companionable silence. You were licking a bit of stray chocolate sauce off your finger when Gardner caught your attention again.

“(Y/N)?”

“Gardner?”

“There's...another reason I wanted you to come over tonight. Another reason why I prepared all of this,” he started and turned to face you more directly. “I know I have my faults and my quirks, and sometimes it may seem like I try too hard, yet other times, not hard enough. But I love you more than life itself. What you and me have is so much...different when compared to anything I've ever known. I've not had anybody really be there for me, there because they actually wanted to be and not because they felt obligated or for some ulterior motive. When I look at you, I feel whole, I feel new, I feel invincible. Like I could fly. I could take on the world with you by my side. And that's what I really want. I'm not sure about the rest of the factors in my life, but I know that whatever happens, I want it to happen with you there, too.”

Time seemed to stand still as Gardner shifted so he was on one knee while reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a small blue box. You gasped, eyes comically wide as you stared at the box. It all made sense now. The missing ring, the sneaky internet research, the private phone calls. He had been in touch with a jeweler. He needed to know your ring size. Of course. The clues were all there, your mind had just come to the wrong conclusion.

Tears blurred your vision as Gardner opened the box, revealing the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. A princess cut stone of pure (y/b/s) sat in the middle of a sparkling white gold band, two much smaller white diamonds framing it, giving off the most brilliant shine even in the low light surrounding you. It was truly gorgeous, more so than any piece of jewelry or clothing or anything you had ever owned. Taking a deep breath to regain your composure, you looked back up into his hopeful face, flashing a watery smile.

“Ask me,” you said, wanting to hear his sweet voice speak those words. “Ask me, Gardner.”

“(Y/N), will you marry me?” he asked, brilliant hazel eyes flicking back and forth between yours.

“Yes,” you said, nodding vigorously. “Yes, yes, of course I will!”

You threw your arms around him, tackling him back into the pile of blankets and cushions behind him, peppering his entire face with kisses, leaving no exposed skin untouched. He laughed as you even kissed his ears, only stopping when Calvin's voice rang out from the house.

“Well?! What did she say?!”

“Oh, the ring!” you said, suddenly remembering it. “Where's the ring?”

Gardner picked the box up from where he had dropped it on a pillow and quickly slipped it onto your left hand. You stood and flashed your hand toward the house, making sure it caught the glow of one of the lights strung around you.

“What the heck do you think I said, Calvin?!” you shot back at him.

“Smart girl!” he called back to you. “You two have fun, now, and don't rock the boat! Or maybe do!”

You laughed as Calvin closed the window he was leaning out of. His words made you realize something and you quickly turned to Gardner, leveling him with your best serious face.

“I have one condition,” you stated firmly. The smile on Gardner's face slipped a little. “You can keep the boat, but I am NOT living in it!”

He laughed in relief, reaching out to pull you down to him again.

“Deal.”

[venusloveslobotomies]

Pyromania (Bucky x Reader) 2

  Summary: (Winter Soldier-Endgame Insert) You’re an enhanced HYDRA agent who negotiated her way out of being a weapon. You’re now the nurse/ aid of the Winter Soldier. You end up escaping with him and follow him in and out of danger while slowly developing feelings for each other.

Words: 1850 (approx) Chapter: 2/? Part 1

  “Will you eat?” I huff after Soldat sits down and ignores the hot food, “It’ll go cold and honestly it’s not that bad,” Beef borscht, a mash of carrots, corn and potato, biscuits with cold gravy and something that looks like bird’s milk cake. It’s good food. We’re fed better than anyone else in this facility. However, he seems more interested in inspecting his metal arm and I sigh.

  I swear he’s hardly a soldier. I need to baby him half the time. Combing his hair, washing his arm, feeding him. So, I sit on the bed next to him and scoop up a spoonful of the borscht. He turns back towards me and enthusiastically allows me to spoon feed him through dinner. “The things I do for you…” I mumble and steal a bite of the cake. I was right. Bird’s milk. He seems strangely thoughtful as he eats.   It’s finally time to relax. I return the tray and dishes to the kitchen and when I come back, he’s reading a Korean children’s book aloud. I notice it’s in Hangul.    “That’s good, moya Soldat,” I know reading a new alphabet is difficult. He lays on his stomach on the bed and I help him through understanding the words.   I set about massaging his shoulders and back again. I can finally tell when his knots are gone because the strain leaves his voice and he seems sleepy. I put the book back on the shelf and glance at the clock. 23:07. He stretches out his muscles while I take clothes to the laundry and fix our beds. We stand in the small bathroom down the hall, brushing our teeth. I sit on the counter and Soldat makes faces with a mouthful of toothpaste for my amusement.   On our way back from brushing our teeth, I receive our packed bags for tomorrow morning. When we come back and put them down, he picks up his mask and studies it for a moment. He seems sad and distant. I know he hates the mask. It’s like a muzzle. I hate it possibly more than he does because I understand the implications behind the mask whereas he just sees it as a piece of restricting uniform. I place my hand on his back and rub gentle circles with my thumb. He drops it back into the bag and crawls into bed. It’s about to hit 00:00 so I kneel next to him, remind him to relax, and stroke his hair until he closes his eyes.   I leave and begin prep for the next morning. This, as usual, involves handing a receipt to a treasury official and receiving an envelope of money, which is US dollars this time, placing orders for rations for the designated travel time (4 days), receiving briefings for the mission and checking over our bags.   I finally get back to the room at about 2 in the morning, luckily we won’t be woken until 10 am. I can hear Soldat muttering in his sleep and immediately know he’s having a nightmare. I change into a nightgown and sit down next to him, stroking his hair until he seems to calm down.

 I wake up with a jolt as the alarm goes off. I reach over and turn it off before realising I’m in his bed. Still on top of the covers. Not unusual. I seem to always end up falling asleep after comforting him from a nightmare. He sits up and stretches. I hear knocking and get up to find that breakfast has arrived. I thank the kitchen girl and take the cart.   I dress in the basic white travel sweats for the day before taking my tray and settling on the floor. Soldat joins me in a matching outfit, but his is grey. His meal is very protein-heavy, butterbrot with ham, eggs, tvorog (like cottage cheese), kasha (a grain porridge), orange juice and coffee. Calorie dense and carb and protein based. Mine isn’t too different but I ended up with kasha, butterbrot with butter, one egg and coffee. He seems happy and digs in while talking animatedly about seeing things in Washington while I read through the logistics of the mission, where we’re based, who’s accompanying us, who the target is, when and where the mission is supposed to be carried out. I like traveling a lot and I know he enjoys it too.   I know we have to be at the hangar at 12:35 and wheels up at 12:45. So with nothing to do but relax, we talk for a while, joking and pretending that we’re not going on this trip to murder someone.   When I decide it’s time to go, we grab our bags and head up past the training center and arrive at the hangar early. We meet with the officials and are given orders to wait in the jet. It’s a big cargo-style jet with a large open space in the center and benches around the perimeter.   Throwing our bags down, he picks a spot towards the back and I join him. He lays down with his head in my lap and I pretend to be inspecting his face, putting more disinfectant on his already healed wounds from yesterday and checking his pupil dilation. Eventually he closes his eyes and tries to sleep. We have 10 and a half hours to wait until we arrive in DC.   The other guards file in, including Soldat’s handler, a huge Serbian guy who goes by Petrovic. They look confused at the sight of the Winter Soldier sleeping on his nurse’s lap but Petrovic and the two officials ignore it. They’re used to it by now.   The flight goes slowly with not much to do. There’s quiet chatter, soldiers sleeping on benches and the ground, a few are reading. I wake my soldier up at around 2:50 to eat something since food’s being handed out. We sit on the floor and eat. Beef with potatoes, hot shchi (a cabbage soup), black bread and coffee. Chocolate bars are offered around by one of the younger guards however that offer never gets to Soldat. I take one and thank him before breaking it in half to give to Soldat.   There’s some quiet socialising among the guards since the officials and pilots seem chatty and happy up front. Some of the men try to include me in the conversation but I’m fairly disinterested and direct the conversation to someone else before I have to talk for very long. After the food’s been finished it seems as though we go back to silence. I offer a game of 101 to Soldat with a pack of cards and we play quietly for an hour or so. More snacks and cups of kvass are once again passed around and after we finish, Soldat and I fall back asleep for a few hours.   Petrovic wakes us up when dinner is being served, around 7pm. The TV is turned on for the Washington DC news and everyone gathers on the floor again to eat. For dinner we’re given pork stewed in tomato sauce, a salad of pickled cabbage, cucumbers and carrots, more black bread, buckwheat porridge and a double shot of vodka is offered to everyone. I take mine but quickly pass it to Soldat since vodka’s strange attractiveness doesn’t make sense to me. For dessert we’re all given strange little tea cakes, apparently British, and kissel, a fruity jelly-like dessert.   Most of the guards get some sleep but a few figure since we’ll be landing in a few hours they may as well stay up. Soldat goes right back to sleep, this time leaning back on my chest with his head on my shoulder, but I keep a wary eye on a few of the younger guards who may not fully hold their alcohol too well. Kvass is offered around again at about 10 and I take the cup and read a book I bought on our last mission in Ukraine.

We finally land somewhere around 11:30 and I wake Soldat up. We pick up our bags and are directed to a truck with Petrovic.   Once we arrive at the base, Petrovic gets our keys and tells us to stay in the room. He disappears into the room next to us and I have to literally undress Soldat to get him into the shower. We both scrub down before climbing into the creaky double bed and knocking out completely.  When Petrovic comes in the next morning to brief us on the timeframe he admits that we could be here for up to two weeks. Soldat starts getting ready to leave. Since I’ll be on standby the first day, I end up alone in the base, writing up a medical report in case something happens.   The next night I am assigned my suit for a mission. I’m nothing but aid at this point but it’s best to be prepared if it comes to a fight. Soldat is given a sniping gun and our main goal is to just shoot and get out.  We end up on the roof across from an apartment building, aiming through a window. I sit impatiently. Whoever lives there crawls in through the window and we wait for the light to be turned on. A few minutes and the target stands up. Soldat gets a few good shots before he’s down. We watch as he gets dragged out of sight.    “Begat!” Run. We both spring up and sprint across the roof. We jump over a few alleyways before I see the end of our block, where a nondescript car is waiting for us. We land on an adjacent one before the man in pursuit of us smashes through a window and onto the same roof as us. I hear his shield coming towards us but Soldat turns and catches it easily. He throws it back at the man and we jump off the building, sprinting back to the car parked down the street. We drive off back to the base.   The moment we arrive and jump out of the car, Soldat starts pacing with nervous energy. I walk over to him. I can hear him getting worked up.    “I wouldn’t do that, Ms Kang,” His handler puts his hand out but I ignore it. I hear guns being cocked but I know they’re trained on Soldat, not me. I step in front of him and he stops abruptly.    “Stop it,” I place my hand on his chest and stare straight into his eyes, challenging him, “You’re acting like a child,” He stares back at me. As frustrated as he may be, he knows that I’ll knock him out if he doesn’t stop freaking out. He takes a big, huffy breath and kneels so that I can wipe the charcoal from around his eyes. The other soldiers relax their weapons and I can hear as they slowly resume their positions.    “Mianhae,” It doesn’t matter that he says it in Korean, it’s so quiet no one else could’ve possibly heard it.     “It’s ok. I know you’re stressed. You’re fine,” I tell him, patting his cheek as I finish up.

Part 3

[sergeanttpoliteness]

idk if you’re taking requests or anything, if you aren’t ignore this, but if you are I would die for a classic, upside down spider-man kiss with the loml spider-noir. poor guy would probably be very surprised at first but suddenly its his favorite thing to do. thanks I love you and your work!!

AND➝ mayhaps…. a first kiss with noir? if u have time! 

sorry for answering so late nonnies! i feel so bad about that, i promise i wasn’t ignoring y’all. same goes to the few other requests i have in my inbox right now! 

——-

➹ inconvenient feelings➹ (spider-noir x reader)

word count: 2.5k

a/n: can you tell i had no idea what to call this lol. i didn’t edit either bc… oof. i’ve been struggling a lot with writer’s block (nothing new, honestly lmaoo) lately and someone close to me recently passed away and i haven’t quite… been able to wrap my head around it?? i don’t know, not to be a little bitch but this week consisted of a lot of school stuff, emotions, and anxiety so thanks @ the people who requested this bc i needed to write some wholesome stuff. also thx at my bestie for helping me out w ideas, ily broz. anyway, there’s some minimum ripeter x reader although it’s solely platonic! hope you all have a lovely week (:

taglist: @marvelousmorales

It’s not convenient. Convenient was that one person with the pretty smile whose eyes seemed to possess an affinity to him that one time at a jazz club, or the singer with the honey voice and smooth runs more soothing than the late night singing of a mother to her child. A poor goon who smooched his fist whilst it collided with his face could even fit the designation, really— but what mattered, the simple component they shared, was that all three were just a speck in a sea with no end; an eternal blue void with only more possibilities hiding in the pitch-black depths neither he nor the light’s fingertips could touch. They were safe. Uncomplicated.

Peter stared out the window, at a completely distinct world, far from a city in a vintage film: the ongoing the mechanical song of speeding cars, the newer and taller lit up buildings, the blinking golden lights, identical to a field of a thousand miniscule suns. This was not convenient. It’s… so different— like day and night, water and fire. This meant to swim out of the ocean he belonged to and reach for a foreign land, to run after a mere drop of water when a whole fucking body existed behind him. It’s not safe. It’s complicated.

Your sleepy eyes roamed the same page for the fifth time with no precise purpose, more disoriented than a newcomer in a large city until they traveled and spotted their true destination: Peter’s own sight deeply engulfed in the view outside, the twisting of his brows every now and then filling your mind with wonder and curiosity at what could possibly be running through that brain of his. You could’ve continued with the ogling like the damn creep you were (seriously, you gotta stop it with that, you told yourself), but you slipped and made a mistake— the most laughably absurd misstep— worse than trying to take a picture of a stranger and then, to your utmost terror, the flash going off— which wouldn’t have occurred in the first place if you’d paid your electricity bills on time. Your apartment wouldn’t have been plunged into darkness, and you wouldn’t have, without thinking, your head clearly not in its right place at the moment, slightly tilted your phone and directed your phone’s flashlight right at the side of his face. You quickly pulled the beam of light away, as if that would work; however, his gaze drifted to you. “Sorry.” You blurted out, acting casual and pretending to focus on the journal on your lap. “You were so quiet, I thought you had fallen asleep.” You lied.

“No, I’m awake.” He said, furrowing his brows to himself— of course you already knew that. You mumbled a small ‘good’, holding the notebook close to your face, like a child staring through the window of a pet shop at some puppies, shining the ‘smartphone’, he’d learned, over the pages. You bit your lip, your shoulders shaking with your surfacing laughter.

“Oh, man, this one’s so dumb.” You snickered before running your finger up the paper, clearing your throat. “October 8th, 1999. Today I came back from my camping trip with Peter, Ben, and May. We ate a lot of s'mores— Uncle Ben makes the best! We also told some scary ghost stories, and I even made Pete scream. It was awesome. You will not believe what happened!” You read the last sentence with a dramatic tone, similar to that of a terrible news headline from a sketchy website, making yourself more comfortable on the L shaped bench seat and leaning into Peter’s side.

Peter tensed at first, but slowly, he pushed himself to relax after you rested your head on his shoulder, a quiet voice in the back of his head speaking against his desires, echoing the terrifying thought that he could get used to this. “I don’t know, enlighten me: what happened?” He asked, amused. You lifted your finger, eyebrows raising gradually, building up the suspense. He waited, and waited, and waited, until, finally—

“I have to go eat dinner. I’ll tell you later.” You finished with an unhumorous voice and a poker face. Yet again, he awaited in silence, interested. Man, you took this suspense thing quite seriously— wait.

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it?!” He looked down at you and you nodded. “Oh, c'mon! You just gonna leave the reader hanging like that?”

You shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin, loving his genuine disappointment as you flicked the page. “Sometimes that’s just the way it is.”

“Oh, what malarkey!” He laughed softly. You crinkled your nose— malarkey. What a dork.

You resumed scanning the barely discernible handwriting, the corner of your mouth tugging upwards. “Alright, this one does have an ending.” You sat up, rolling your shoulders back only to go back to your position of hunching over the journal. “April 3rd, 2000. I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long, I forgot I had this journal. Something crazy happened.”

“The end.”

“Shut up.” You shushed him, shaking your head. “'I hung out with Peter today. We rode our bikes, had a race down the hill near my house, and I also got a butterfly to land on my finger. Man, I love insects!’ …and I still do.” You smiled and he glanced down at you, his mouth twitching. A peculiar glow in his chest grew, fueled him after he recognized that you felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with him; an insight on the stories that carved you into the person that you were today, the being that made every classy, pearly white grin and musical prodigy so boring, so undesirable.

You shuffled on your bum to turn and face Peter, continuing, “We came back home to play some more. We were sitting in front of the TV when, suddenly, he said my name, and like a normal person would, I looked at him…” You inclined forward, voice quieting, looking up at him.

“You won’t believe what happened.”

His eyes darted heavenward and he groaned. “Oh, lord.”

“He kissed me!” You cried out, with as much emotion that past you spilled onto the paper with the five exclamation marks and the three times you underlined the sentence. You slammed the notebook shut and let out a strangled clamor. “I still remember it very clearly. It was just a peck, but he fucking… smashed his mouth into mine, it hurt so much and my lip started bleeding and everything.” You giggled, abashed, rubbing your eyes.

Peter’s brows rose with surprise, pondering how an alternate seven-year-old version of him from another universe had more balls than him. He had to admit, though, the scene playing in his head was more entertaining than unfortunate. “And what’d you do?” He questioned, his mouth twitching.

“He was just curious and wanted to see what kissing someone was like, so we promised we wouldn’t talk about it ever again. He was so embarrassed, though, and felt so bad for making me bleed that he almost started crying.” You recalled, chuckling as you eyed the cursed diary one last time and placed it beside you. “What an idiot. I miss him.” You sighed, peering up at him, grinning. “What was your first kiss like, huh?”

It was comical, almost, the raging blush that trickled his face, the greyish tint screaming for the world’s attention. It was just a Peter Parker thing, you guessed: blushing like there was no tomorrow. “Uh, my first kiss?” You nodded. “Well… it happened when I was eighteen.”

You put the side of your head against the wall, eyes going round, your inquisitiveness close to that of a kid listening to a grandparent’s story. “Was it romantic?” You wanted to know everything: who the person was, the place, the context. Did he enjoy it? Did he make the move? And if so, then was there a chance that, maybe…

Unlike you, he did not have much interest in the subject; he stuttered, searching for a way to move on from the memory before he imploded. “I don’t, I don’t think anyone’s first kiss is romantic.”

You squinted at him, noticing his obvious attempt at dodging the question, but chose to spare him. Just for a few milliseconds, though. “Have you ever had… a perfect kiss?” You said, unsure of how to word such a silly question. He shook his head and you hummed, silently taking in a quick breath, your gaze moving to your right. “Have you thought about what you want it to be like?”

Should he say it? He wanted to. He really did. But he couldn’t, even if his eyes almost flickered down to your lips. “Who thinks about that?” He muttered. Perhaps he had. Perhaps he’d been guilty of having the thought slither into his mind once or twice— possibly more than just that. Perhaps it’d pestered his mind as of recent, like that damn small scratch on his glasses that won’t go away no matter how many times he tried to wipe it away as if that would even help. Perhaps it returned as you unconsciously licked your lips and raised your shoulder, a bashful grin growing on your face.

“I have, when I’m bored. An upside down kiss with a cute guy.” You admitted, your eyes narrowing afterward, only just now realizing how bizarre the idea was once you said it aloud. Your impatience throbbed in your head so badly you didn’t mind the embarrassment as much, though. You really were doing this, huh? “I think I found the cute guy.” You hinted, your heartbeat pounding in your throat.

He understood the insinuation, of course he did. But what better way to run from your feelings than close his trembling hand into a fist, pretend to be clueless, and act like an idiot?

“Who’s the lucky fella?”

Didn’t think he was so stupid, you grumbled in your head, masking your faint irritation. You pressed your lips together, sight on your cushions. “Someone I like quite a lot.” You vaguely said, voice distant. “Though I don’t think you’d understand— you’re not one to fall in love, no?”

It was half a joke but half a real question, one with solely one right answer you yearned to hear from him if you got lucky enough. Peter blinked nervously, fear burning in his stomach, clenching his insides as his tongue dared to break free from his control, from his cowardly spell. “Lately I’ve had someone in mind.” He breathed out, close to breaking out in a sweat. He watched how your eyes dimly lit up, hesitance impeding the light from fully glowing.

“Really? And who is this ‘someone’?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Tell me.”

“Not now.” He gulped. You pouted, begging with your eyes. “N-no.”

“Are you ever gonna make a move?”

Peter drew his lower lip between his teeth, feeling dizzy just by thinking about it; the downfall of the relationship once the distance became too much, once the malaise with no cure finally rotted the adoration, infested the heart, decayed it. “No.” Same answer. Same bedeviled word that boomed in his head whenever his emotions were close to getting the best of him.

“Why haven’t you done it yet?” You whispered, not caring anymore about how obvious you were

being. He frowned. Why hadn’t he done it yet?

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Why not?”

Why not? His own thoughts repeated, betraying him. The confusion unlatched the cage, released all the questions and doubts about his reasons and dread. They crowded his brain, rang in his ears. “It’s… it’d be too hard to keep the relationship alive.” He retold more to himself and the storm of interrogations than you.

Your brows snapped together, your own fear knocking on the door again. “Is it not worth it to try, though?” It’s what you’d told yourself: the antidote to unfreeze your limbs and wave goodbye at the concern hanging in there, because… was it not?

In the overwhelming haziness, he finally looked at you. It’s what he needed to come upon a realization, a truth he knew all along but crumbled and threw away. Everything hushed, one single, final phrase in the quiet of it all.

Convenient wasn’t what he wanted.

“It is.” He said under his breath.

You heard him, and your eyes twinkled. “Well, then make the move.”

He couldn’t help it anymore. His eyes found your lips.

“I will.”

You stared at each other for a moment, anticipation never more warming than right then as it fluttered in your chest. To your biggest disappointment, he broke eye contact and stood up. “Close your eyes for a moment.” He ordered, his face indistinguishable in the dark now that he was further away.

“Creepy, but okay.” You huffed, your eyelids fluttering shut. “You better not be running away right now, you’d break my poor ol’ heart.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not the case.” You heard him say. You trusted him, which could’ve been a terrible choice. The total silence that followed didn’t put you to ease at all, honestly. Maybe you annoyed him so much with your questions that he was about to murder you, and if that’s what was happening, you were quite sad, to say the least.

Your eyelids were itching to open and you lifted a brow, straining your ears to distinguish any sign of his presence. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re not gonna believe what’s about to happen.”

You snorted at his reference, but his voice was… oddly close. You opened your eyes, and— “Oh, fuck!” You yelped and jumped back in your seat. Damn right you weren’t gonna believe what was about to happen, for Peter dangled from the ceiling right in front of you, upside down.

“Is it too much of a strange idea? I was going to simply stick to the ceiling upside down, but then I thought… that’d be… worse.” He clumsily explained. You looked up at the web he hung from, laughing in disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing?” You repeated, but you weren’t mad— your large smile backed that up. You couldn’t figure out if it was a blush creeping up his face or if it was from the fact that he was upside down. Both, maybe.

“I’m making a move.”

You giggled, glad you confessed what you considered to be a perfect type of kiss to him or else you wouldn’t had witnessed how absolutely ridiculous he looked right now. “So you’re willing to help me check 'kissing someone upside down’ off my bucket list?” You smirked.

He grinned. “It would be my pleasure.”

You bit your lip, placing both hands on his head. “Alright, then.“ 

You leaned forward, the tip of your nose brushing against his chin. You softly kissed the area below his bottom lip to tease him, but he didn’t want to wait any longer. Not after so long. Quickly, he enclosed your own bottom lip with his mouth, lastly fully aware that inconvenient truly was magnificent.

[lucadina]

Enigma Girl (2)

Rating: T

Pairing: Eren x Annie

You can read the first part here!

Supper is a predictable occurrence. And kind of gross, sometimes. 

The food isn't normally good, nor is it bad. Tonight, however, the main dish may resemble a rendition of the usual potato stew, but might as well be pig slop. That's what happens when the instructors think it's a good idea to assign Connie and Sasha to the same kitchen duty schedule. Eren raises his spoon to his nose, takes a whiff of the greyish-red pudding thing he's scooped up, and tries not to retch. He sets the spoon back down.

'This is disgusting,' Mikasa says bluntly.

Too chicken to agree, Armin opts instead to placate the situation, 'Haha... Well, we've got to eat, since it's another rough day tomorrow.'

Eren remains silent. He's thinking about Annie. Specifically, he's mulling over their encounter earlier in the day, at the forest during hand-to-hand combat training.

Why did he follow her? Was it really an attempt at friendship? No, he's not that pure. Truthfully, he doesn't really know why he’s relentlessly chasing after her. It’s his choice and yet, without so much as an utterance of a word from her, he feels spellbound, like she had beckoned him to year for her - like a fish swimming towards a lure. Not that he regrets it. When she was on top of him, her lips upon his wrist, teeth merely a breath away from his skin; he thinks that moment is a fond memory, one he replays over and over in his head. Weird, considering how Annie is singularly the most terrifying woman he's ever met.

And he's seen some odd ladies crawling the streets at night, none of which have ever struck him as sexy.

Wait. Stop. Not that Annie's—

Going red in the face, Eren chokes on a cry. Mikasa is quick to pat his back and ask what's wrong, but he only brushes her off and hangs his head in shame.

Reiner, who's decided to invite himself and Bertholdt to join Eren's group for dinner and is seated across the table from said suicidal blockhead, has a burning question at the back of his mind. He just doesn't know how to bring it up. Really, a more appropriate setting to do so would be in a few hours at the boys' barracks. But Reiner is a nosy little weasel in bear's clothing who revels in drama (particularly when it relates to a that blonde bitch) and he can't take the suspense any longer.

'Eren, is something going on between you and Annie?'

Every single pair of eyes in the room fly to Reiner.

Even Annie's, if only momentarily.

'What?!' Eren doesn't mean to come across so incredulously, as though the possibility of him harbouring romantic feelings for said girl is preposterous, because he actually might like her but wow— he's never been into girls except the imaginary one with a killer bod that lives in his head and hold on; this is a bold question, even for the outspoken Reiner.

'R-Reiner, please...' Bertholdt clears his throat, throwing a quick glance at the woman they're presently chatting about. Annie’ who's seated three tables over, is unfazed. She simply stares disinterestedly at her untouched meal, 'I don't think Eren wants to talk about that. Let's just enjoy our dinner...'

'Oh, come on. It's just a question.'

'You are the only person she pairs with during combat training.' Armin wonders aloud before backpedaling because Mikasa's glare is that terrifying, 'But of course, it's not practical to get involved romantically with someone, considering we're here to become soldiers.'

Eren frowns, 'Soldiers can have wives. I'd like one eventually.'

'You'd like to wife up Annie?' Reiner wiggles his eyebrows.

'Well, I think Eren's uncomfortable, so we should really move on!' Bertholdt clucks, slapping a palm on Reiner's back with enough force to squash a small animal. Against Reiner's build, it barely registers as a friendly handshake, 'Right?!'

'I'm not uncomfortable,' he bluffs, 'Besides,' a pause to swallow a spoonful of his shit-stew even though it makes him want to gag (he's trying to make a point that he's committed to what he's about to say), 'You guys are seriously making a big deal out of nothing. Annie and I just spar sometimes.'

'Oh, come on,' Reiner snorts, 'I wouldn't blame ya, Eren. I know she's a soulless prune, but she has a nice-'

Mikasa interjects, 'Eren still hasn't eaten. 'You're distracting him.'

It's too late. Eren's offended, for a few reasons. Interestingly enough, that last, unfinished remark regarding Annie's derriere sours him. Annie probably heard that. Did she expect him to defend her modesty? No— she'd probably kick him between his legs and mutter something like I don't need a man to defend me, especially not a boy like you, Yeager! It'll just piss them both off if he says anything.

So much for convincing her that he's interested in who she is as a person, as a human, and not just as a mentor. He can't keep on pretending like he isn't hurt by her, especially after what she pulled in the woods today.

'I don't want to talk about this anymore,' Eren's eyes darken as he gets to his feet, then walks out of the hall.

Mikasa follows him out. So does Armin.

Bertholdt scolds Reiner for his insensitivity.

Everyone else resumes their supper.

Minus Annie, who seethes in silence.

Soulless prune?

Soulless prune?!

Reiner's never been her favourite person, but he's officially on her list. That list. A list that has her preoccupied with thoughts of making Reiner disappear for the next hour of dinner. Before she thinks herself up into actually applying her imagination to reality, Mina interrupts: 'Hey...' she tries to whisper, but she's too loud anyway, 'What's up with you and Yeager?'

Annie shrugs. She bites into her bread, hoping that no one else will start a conversation with her if she's got food in her mouth.

Her plan doesn't work.

Stupid teenage girls; they're unrelenting, and it isn't just Mina anymore either. Now Hannah and Moira and Laura (Annie's guessing their names, they've never spoken to her prior to now) have started shooting questions her way despite not getting a single answer. Perhaps they assume that she'll cave in to their persistence at some point.

'Do you two hang out outside of training?'

'Who made the first move?'

'Do you like him?'

'I'm eating,' Annie snaps— that last question had cut her somewhere deep.

The girls go quiet. Still, they've won: Bingo! Mina shoots Hannah a playful smirk. There's a silent understanding; can't wait to giggle about this later!

The rest of the mess hall reverts back to its usual mild chatter. Jean's bitching about Eren somewhere to the far right, by the door. Marco's trying to calm him down. On the table over, Reiner's giving a speech about how romance is fun, but should be approached with caution since the life they all lead is that of a soldier's.

'Dangerous and unpredictable,' Reiner beams loudly, 'So we should make smart choices. You know— ones we won't regret later.'

Annie scoffs to herself. She knows that he's stupidly aimed that comment at her, which only serves to amplify the murderous intent she already feels towards him. But she'll play it cool, for now. No point in blowing a gasket. She tries to finish the rest of her bread, but only gets to half of it before she drops it onto her cold stew.

The bells chime, signalling the end of the hour.

Annie doesn't immediately get up. She's tired.

Reiner and Bertholdt pass her. The latter's always concerned about her, and this time is no exception, 'You didn't eat much,' he observes meekly. He looks like he wants to say something else, but is intercepted by his fellow warrior.

'It's useless,' Reiner shoots Annie a dark look, 'She never did learn not to play with her food.'

.......................................................................................

Eren doesn't spar with Annie for a month.

Four weeks.

Thirty-one days.

Whatever; she's anxious about it by the time the cold weather rolls in. It's snowing outside, and will probably continue to for the rest of the season. Apparently, in this side of the world, hotter summers bleed into biting winters. Consequently, hand-to-hand combat training is suspended until further notice. The instructors don't want any of the cadets dying on them, after all. Not when the militia is in desperate need of bodies.

Of course, this all means that Annie has absolutely no excuse to interact with Eren.

It's not like he approaches her anymore, not after that fiasco in the forest.

She expected him to put distance. Pushing people away is instinctual for her. But it was even easier to commit to dismissing Eren because his passion frightens her. He's special; so human, but in a way that is foreign to her. Unlike herself, who bends weakly to the will of unknown forces, Eren charges straight into the fray without a second thought. He's defiant, beautifully so, like a single, bright flame flickering a brilliant orange amidst the ice.

Maybe Annie's a little jealous of him.

Maybe she misses him.

Maybe.

'Hey,' she greets him curtly once as they pass each other before roll call.

Eren offers a small, hollow smile. Beyond that, he doesn't say anything and speeds past her.

Annie's surprised by how much his indifference hurts her.

.......................................................................................

There's something that hurts a little more, and Annie deems herself selfish for allowing herself to be stung in the first place.

Eren's a happy person. Despite his history, he's happy.

She observes this in the sparks that go off in his eyes before the instructors introduce a new training course or when he succeeds in what he's previously failed at. He's equally energetic when he's smashing his fist onto Jean's ribs, only to get beaten up right back and whisked away by Mikasa a minute later. That older sister figure of his, together with Armin, scold and console Eren in that order after each of his episodes. Then, the very next day, Eren's got another goofy grin on his face and is ready to fight another day.

He's seen the Titans. Yet, he braves this danger. He dedicates his life, even if it's insignificant relative to the rest of the militia.

He has an unwavering sense of purpose, and because of this, he can be happy.

He knows who he is.

She does not.

'Stare at him any longer and you might as well be eating him instead of your dinner, Leonhart.' Ymir mutters under her breath.

Annie blinks, snapping out of her stupor. She didn't even realise that her gaze has been glued to Eren until now. Aware that a blush blooms across her cheeks, she directs her attention to her untouched bean soup. Is it bean? It's green, with yellow blotches at the sides where the oil separates. Disgusting. She can't do this. But she has to, or she'll be forced to endure another grilling from the girls.

'If you're so into him, why not just go for it?' Ymir continues, nudging her seat-mate with an elbow. Annie's at least thankful that the taller woman is trying to keep her inquiries discreet. The others haven't caught onto their topic. Not even Krista, who's chatting away to the rest of the table about whatever because it doesn't really matter and they all just want an excuse to admire her. 'Leonhart,' Ymir presses while the others are distracted, 'What's stopping you?'

Annie swirls her soup with a spoon, 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'I think he likes you.'

'Well, he shouldn't.'

.......................................................................................

This afternoon, Annie's assigned to do meal prep.

She actually likes to do the cooking because she's a) usually paired with someone too scared to bother her with conversation, and b) it's quiet in the kitchen, away from the hooligans letting loose after a rough day of training. Actually, she seems to have an extra stroke of luck today considering that she's been working for half an hour and yet, no one's joined her. Perhaps she's been tasked to do this all alone, which isn't so bad. She can get it done.

Winter is dogged. Annie doesn't recall experiencing anything quite like it. It's as if the earth itself is rebelling, screaming something like wake up, you fools! There are traitors amongst you!

Annie considers herself.

She's not a good person, but she'd like to believe that she's still a person.

'Hey.'

Annie's heart skips a beat. She recognises that voice, and the familiarity sets off a thrill in her gut that's uncharacteristic of her. Too flustered to even think to put the potato she's been working on down onto the table, she turns on her heel. Potato in her hand and all.

To Eren, it's a strange sight. This strong girl who's given him a hundred bruises and two broken ribs looks harmless in an apron. Domesticated, even. It's not just the fact that she's cooking or that she's dressed for the part; her crystalline-blue eyes are wide, frightened and sparkling with anticipation, like she's seen a friendly ghost. Except they're not friends, so she has no business wearing that expression on her face.

'Sorry I'm late,' he grumbles and reaches for another apron hanging on the hook of the door. He's clearly avoiding her. His back faces her, and his eyes focus on the furthest thing from her body: the empty pot where the stew of the night is supposed to boil in. He busies himself with it. Takes it to the sink, starts scrubbing at the metal. Anything to keep from having to walk over to her.

Disappointed, Annie resumes her potato peeling. Well, more like hacking. She's lopping off the skin in jagged, reckless strokes of a knife. She's bothered by the wordless grudge of a stupid teenage boy who can't lower his fists. What’s worse is she can't even control this feeling she has; of guilt and desire, of a need so tempting that she feels it in her chest now despite having her interest rebuffed by Eren Yeager of all people.

Fifteen minutes pass. Annie knows because she's counting the seconds in her head. She has to, or she won't be able to keep herself calm enough to stop herself from kicking her companion to the ground.

She supposes it won't matter because it'll all be recut into chunks for the stew soon anyway.

Wrong.

Keith Shadis enters, whipping the door open with so much force that the knob hits a wall. His attention immediately flies to Eren, who's started filling the pot with water. As much as Shadis is looking forward to this particular subordinate's next ass-kicking, he can't very well punish without crime, can he? This shred of dignity in the instructor's heart saves Eren, who gulps a hard lump at his throat because he absolutely cannot afford to screw up in front of this guy.

Annie is another story.

'Leonhart, you brainless roach!' Shadis bellows, eyeballs threatening to bulge out of his sockets as he stares pointedly at the naked potato in her hands, 'What the hell is that?!'

She stiffens.

Shit.

She doesn't know what to do, so does nothing.

'Leonhart! You're supposed to skin the potatoes, not maul them! What the hell is this-' Shadis unceremoniously reaches into the wastebin next to her. He grasps the skins she's discarded, brings it up to her face, 'You've taken off the actual meat of it too!'

It's true. She didn't do it properly because she was pissed at Eren and needed to take it out on something.

Annie inhales sharply - she fucked up, can't get out of this one.

'Do you think we can afford to waste food around here, cadet? Do you?!'

'No, Sir.'

'Then do it right! Or I'll have you skip out on kitchen duty altogether and have you scrubbing toilets instead!'

Miraculously, he does not headbutt her. He doesn't so much as touch her, really. Just marches back out as quickly as he'd come, a dozen deep lines expressing his vexation. Although that has less to do with Annie, and more to do with the frustration he feels that he can't psychologically castrate Eren today.

The door slams shut. Annie stares at it, as though she doesn't know how to proceed after what just transpired. It's clear to Eren, who's spent over a decade familiarising himself with Mikasa's cryptic social processing, that Annie is affected by the verbal beating she's received. He can't imagine that she'd take too kindly to being called brainless, let alone a roach, no matter how cooly she tries to play it off.

Sighing, he drops his pot and makes his way over to her. She doesn't react until he takes the knife away from her, to which she flinches.

'Look,' he whispers as he slowly reaches over her side for another potato, careful not to impose on her space with his voice or body, 'You're supposed to do it like this,' he angles the potato diagonally with one hand, presses the thumb of his other onto the straight edge of the knife so that it picks up just a the tiniest bit of the brown skin, which then easily lifts. Thereafter, he secures it with the tip of the knife and gracefully starts to peel.

Annie tilts her head. 'Ah... You're surprisingly good at that.'

'I've had a lot of practice. My mom used to make me help her out in the kitchen sometimes.'

'I see.'

This was meant to only be a demo, but she doesn't make an effort to mirror him. Eren's nostrils flare. Does she expect him to do her work for her? 'Hey,' he presses, miffed, 'Grab a potato and get to it.'

'But you're so much better suited for this task than I am.'

'Oh, no.'

His temperature is rising fast - a natural occurrence around the infuriating Annie. He takes her by the wrist, pulls her to him, back-to-chest, and forcibly takes her hands in his. It's uncharacteristic how tame she is when he manipulates her arms so that they're intertwined with his, his palms nestling on the top of her hands to guide her to a knife and the potato he was working on.

'Alright, Annie— do it like I showed you.'

Do it precisely how I've taught you! That's my daughter!

Annie goes pale (not that Eren can see), and she's once more frozen in place. Green flashes dangerously until he feels her form tremble slightly. She feels fragile, soft, like something human but not quite as durable. It catches him off guard, and he nearly lets her go. He wonders if he frightens her; probably not, although the very thought that he's pushed her into dark corner breaks the chains he's manufactured around his curious attachment to her. Suddenly, he forgets why he's been so upset with her.

He chooses to believe that she's just shaken up from Shadis.

He doesn't fully buy into his own half-assed hypothesis.

Most likely, she won't tell him what's going on.

That's alright. He'll kick it with her anyway.

'Fine, forget the potato,' he whispers into her ear in as soothing a voice as he can muster. His heart is hammering against his chest; she's unpredictable and that's scary, 'Just... I'm here, OK?'

He releases her hands, so the objects she's loosely held onto fall on the table. She makes no move to pick them up, but neither does she swat his arms away. The close proximity of their bodies births a heat that burns him, and he realises the implication of the lack of distance between them. 

Awkwardly, he moves to the side so he can pretend to busy himself with a potato and knife. He steals a glance at her; she’s unreadable as always.

'I'm angry with you,' she admits, breaking the silence. She tucks a long bang behind her ear. He observes her fingers; they're trembling. His attention flies back to the potato; it’s less intimidating than the uncharacteristic fragility she displays right now.

Eren swallows, 'Why's that?'

'You've been ignoring me.'

'Thought that's what you wanted, Annie.'

'No,' she smiles at him, knowing fully well that he cannot see.

[pastelwitchling]

Malex one-shot Angst/Fluff Prompt List #9 (Prompt #16)

16. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

***

               Alex covered his ears as the plate hit the opposing wall, smashing to pieces. It didn’t do anything to calm Michael who was still grabbing whatever he could, tossing it against the trailer.

               “Guerin,” Alex tried for what felt like the millionth time, “please, stop it!”

               It was as if Michael couldn’t hear him, and as the trailer was small, it shook with every angry step, nearly knocking Alex – who was already struggling with balance – to the floor.

               “Calm down –”

               “My mom, Alex! She was my mom!” Michael yelled, taking a beer bottle and angrily throwing it against the wall.

               “I know,” Alex’s voice cracked, “but please, you have to calm down before you hurt yourself!”

               “I don’t care about hurting myself,” he shook his head, his eyes filled with tears. “I don’t care about dying, I don’t care about any of it.”

               “Guerin…” Alex trailed off and covered his face, resigned as Michael’s anger resumed, the floor covered with more and more broken glass with every passing second, the air filled with his screams of anguish and rage.

               Alex listened helplessly as he cursed humans, his miserable life, the government, and himself. There was more glass breaking, then silence.

               He looked up to find Michael’s fist in his mirror, the glass shattered around it, blood seeping down his fingers.

               “God,” Alex whispered, and hurried to Michael’s side. He took his fist and held it carefully in his hands. “What did you do?”

               Michael was panting, his face twitching as he stared at his hand, at Alex’s fingers carefully brushing away the larger glass pieces. “It’s okay,” he said.

“It’s not okay,” he shook his head, and a tear slipped out. “I don’t know if… d-do you need to go to the hospital? I think…” He exhaled sharply. “This looks really bad, Guerin.”

“I don’t feel it.”

               Alex bit down on his lower lip and ignored him, taking out whatever glass shards he could. Alex didn’t know if he was relieved or not that Michael had used his uninjured hand to punch the mirror.

               “I’m sorry,” Alex said, another tear falling. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

               Michael shook his head, exhaling a shaky breath through grit teeth. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Alex’s shoulder, taking his hand out of Alex’s to come around the private’s waist, pulling their bodies against one another.

               Michael’s fingers were holding Alex with enough strength to bruise, but Alex said nothing as he wrapped his arms around Michael’s shoulders, holding him steady.

               “I can’t breathe, Alex,” he said, pulling Alex close enough that he could feel Michael’s heart racing against his chest. “I can’t – I can’t breathe.”

               Alex didn’t know what to do except hold on, and try not to cry into Michael’s shirt. He couldn’t do this now, he had to stay strong for the man he loved. He forced in a deep breath, quickly wiping his eyes with his fist.

               “We’ll figure it out, okay? It’ll be okay, we’ll – we’ll figure it out.”

               “No, Alex…” Michael croaked, and Alex felt tears soak his shoulder.

               He hugged Michael tighter, shaking his head. “No, we will. We’ll make this right, Guerin, I promise –”

               “There’s no making this right, Alex,” he said, and pulled back, his eyes red, wet, and full of resignation as he stared at Alex. “Not this time.”

               And Alex knew he was right. He couldn’t envision any possible solution to fix what had happened, to give Michael his mother back. Even if the entire government burned to the ground, Alex knew it would never be enough to take away the pain.

               His fingers trembled against Michael’s shoulders. Michael was still holding onto his waist. That was something, wasn’t it? It had to have been. If Michael was keeping him close, it meant he believed in him. It meant Alex could still do something, could still help. He just needed Michael to hold on a little longer.

               “O-Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we don’t have to do anything now. Just, maybe…” he looked down at Michael’s cut hand, leaking blood into his shirt. “Let me bandage you up, yeah?” He brought a hand up to Michael’s jaw, his thumb softly caressing his cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen. He swallowed and tried to make his voice light, though the cracks were evident to his own ears. “Can you sit still for a few minutes?”

               Instead of replying, Michael stared at Alex with furrowed brows, his jaw clenched. “I’m sorry,” he said.

               Alex felt a heavy dread suddenly grow in his chest, but he ignored it. “It’s okay, don’t apologize.” He put his hand on Michael’s wrist, but couldn’t bring himself to tug his hand off. “Come on, you can either have me or the hospital.”

               He meant it to be a joke, but Michael took it seriously as he shook his head. “I want you. So badly.”

               The dread grew. Alex tried to smile. “A-Alright, you have me, so sit down. Do you have a first-aid kit anywhere here?”

               “But I can’t have you,” Michael whispered, ignoring him. “I can’t even… I can’t even stand to be near you.”

               Alex’s face fell. “W-What?”

               “It was Jesse Manes,” he said. “Jesse Manes, he did all of this, your father. His blood runs in your veins, and you know what? I can feel it. It’s like whatever hatred I had when I saw him that day in the toolshed, I feel it now.”

“Guerin, wait –”

“And I don’t want to hate you, Alex.”

Alex felt Michael’s hands slip from his waist, out of his hold, and he panicked. “No, no, no, no, no, wait, Guerin, stop this, you – you know me, okay? You know me, and you know that I… you know how I feel about you, and you know I would never hurt you –”

“That doesn’t matter, don’t you get it?” he looked pained as he moved away from Alex, as if the distance between them was killing him.

“I told you my family’s been targeting yours,” Alex tried. “I told you, and you wanted me to stay.”

“Knowing it and seeing it are two different things. I didn’t think they would go that far, do that much damage.” Alex noticed the furniture in the trailer, as well as the glass on the floor, begin to levitate off the ground. Michael’s eyes, however, were on him. “Your family’s sick, Alex. They’re monsters.”

“Guerin,” Alex tried as the glass rose higher, the trailer starting to shake.

“If Jesse was here now,” Michael said, his voice quiet, “if he was here, Alex –”

“I’m not my dad,” Alex said. “I’m nothing like them, you know that!”

“I’d kill him,” he whispered, and Alex fell silent. The glass turned, as if trying to find a target, and the larger, sharper pieces slowly pointed at Alex. “My feelings for you would mean nothing. I’d kill him, Alex, I swear I’d kill him, and I’d enjoy it.”

But Alex wasn’t looking at the glass. He was looking at Michael, and despite his best efforts, another tear fell. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, taking another step back while the glass inched closer to Alex. “I really do.”

“Guerin –”

“And you – you look just like him.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Just like him –"

               “STOP!”

               Michael seemed to snap out of his haze, and he realized what he was doing. He gasped, and the glass fell to the trailer floor.

He moved until his back hit the opposing wall, and without looking at Alex, shock at what he’d nearly just done still on his face, he said, “Get out, Alex. I can’t take the sight of you right now. Please, just go.”

Alex hesitated, then did what he always did; followed his orders. He left the trailer hurriedly, unable to take the expression Michael was wearing, and all but ran to his car. A searing pain coursed through his leg, but he didn’t care as he pressed the gas pedal as hard as he could, racing across the empty street. He didn’t stop until he was in front of his cabin, not needing nor wanting to do anything with Project Shepherd right now.

His eyes stung, but they had dried, and even after parking the car, he had a tight grip on the steering wheel, so hard that his knuckles had turned white. Michael’s words raced through his head so quickly that he thought his body was going to burn out from the inside. He could still hear the glass cracking under his feet, the sound of screaming, angry cursing at the world.

And he opened his eyes with a gasp, as if he’d just woken up from a bone-chilling nightmare. His eyes caught on a figure crouched in front of his front door, and he narrowed his eyes. It had to have been past midnight – who could’ve decided to visit him now?

Then the figure spotted him, and stood. It was Kyle, Alex realized, his stand tense, his shoulders straight, and in his hand, there was what looked like crumpled papers.

Alex sighed, tapping his finger against the steering wheel before he let go and stepped out. As he moved toward the cabin door, Kyle approached him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Alex asked, walking past him.

“Couldn’t do much of anything,” Kyle said. “I’ve been calling, where were you?”

“Oh, you know, hell,” he said curtly. All he wanted was to drink everything he had in his fridge, bury his face in his pillow, and try very hard never to wake up again. “Why? Did you want something?”

“I was looking over our dads’ files,” Kyle said, and Alex’s hand stilled on his keys. “Those medical reports I took from Caulfield on the prisoners, the-the – what’s it called – the smart bomb? The UFO crashing, the pods –”

“Where are you going with this, Kyle?” Alex asked, opening the door. Man, he was tired.

Kyle followed him inside. “Those aliens had been tested on for more than seven decades, Alex. Seven.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time you told me a few hours ago. Couldn’t this trip down memory lane have waited till tomorrow?”

Kyle stared, then, “No, it couldn’t have. Because there is no tomorrow for me. Not with this.”

Alex halted in his steps, an intense cold suddenly engulfing his heart as he turned around and realized Kyle was being serious. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” his hold on the papers tightened, “I’m done, Manes. I can’t do this anymore. Okay? A conspiracy was one thing, a fourth alien serial killer I could handle, but this? I can’t take it.”

Something flared in Alex’s chest, whether anger or panic, he couldn’t tell, but he had already felt Michael slip away from him. Kyle was the only anchor he had left, the only person who didn’t look at Alex like he was a monster, like he was…

“You are not leaving me to deal with this alone,” he said.

“Then come with me,” Kyle said, and Alex stopped. He hadn’t taken a proper look at Kyle’s face before, but now that they were inside with the lights on, he could see his eyes glistening. Kyle took a step towards him. “I can’t be in this town, Alex, I can’t breathe. I hate my dad for what he did, and I hate the alien who killed him, and I see them both everywhere I look. I feel like a criminal, like my head’s just filled with these dark thoughts, and I’m going to explode at any second.”

And you look just like him, Alex. Just like him.

Alex closed his eyes. “Okay,” he said slowly, “okay. You’ve been through a lot today. You just need to get some rest.”

“I just found out my dad had helped slowly murder imprisoned aliens for years,” he said. “What rest, Alex?”

Alex sighed. He could see the anger flaring in Kyle’s eyes, the same way it did in Michael’s. But no, this was different. Michael had glared at Alex as if he was the one who had killed his mother. Kyle looked as if he was pleading, begging Alex to reassure him of the one thing that he had been doubting himself; Am I like him?

“And now,” Kyle said, “it’s like everyone else can see it, too. In their eyes, it’s like… it’s like they know the kind of blood that runs in my veins, and they hate me for it. I hate me for it.”

His blood runs in your veins, and you know what? I can feel it. It’s like whatever hatred I had when I saw him that day in the toolshed, I feel it now.

“Don’t say that,” Alex said, feeling faint. “You’re not a criminal, Kyle, you’re a good guy. That doesn’t change just because of who your dad is.”

Alex looked down at the papers in Kyle’s trembling fist, gently loosened his grip, and took them from him. He set them on the table, not noticing that Kyle had taken another step towards him, his expression miserable and lost.

It’s not fair, Alex thought. It wasn’t fair that they were deemed to be the monsters their fathers were, it wasn’t fair that people got to blame them for their family’s mistakes, it wasn’t fair that…

“This is our legacy,” he finished out loud. “Neither of us asked for it, neither of us wanted it, and we got dragged into it, and now…” He shook his head. “If you really want to leave, Kyle, if you really want to stop now… we’ll stop.”

Kyle shut his eyes, his frown deepening as he moved to rest his forehead against Alex’s shoulder, and Alex noticed that while Michael’s hold on his waist was tight, Kyle’s was soft. Michael wanted to anchor himself to earth using Alex, but Kyle wanted to rise to the clouds and stay there.

Alex hesitated, then slowly raised his hands to Kyle’s arms, holding back just as lightly. He exhaled slowly. “We can pretend nothing happened. We can shut down the bunker, and burn the files, and start over. We can grab a beer and talk about music and your weirdest patients, and… just be friends again. No more partners, no more decrypted messages… no more aliens. We can start over.” He felt Kyle’s hold on him tighten ever so slightly, and he took a deep breath. “But…”

“But it’s our job to fix this,” Kyle whispered. “It shouldn’t have to be, but it is, isn’t it?” Alex said nothing, waiting for Kyle’s decision. When they were younger, and had been closer than brothers, Alex had looked up to Kyle in every possible way. He was the leader, the one who made the battle plans. Alex was his soldier, carrying out his orders because he was the only one brave enough to do it. And now, he would do it again. One last time.

I can’t even stand to be near you.

My feelings for you would mean nothing.

I can’t take the sight of you right now. Please, just go.

Finally, after what felt like forever of just being close together, Kyle lifted his head with a sigh. He looked into Alex’s eyes, and with a promise in his voice Alex hadn’t heard since they were twelve and Kyle told him with a serious gaze that he would protect him no matter what came at them, he said, “You’re not fighting this war alone, Manes. I’m terrified of what’ll happen, but…”

“I’ll protect you,” Alex said. Kyle had been the one silver lining in his life for the longest time, and then he wasn’t, and now… “Whatever else goes to hell, I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

“Alex…”

Alex smirked. “It’s my last mission. I will not let myself fail. Whatever it takes.”

***

The prompt is courtesy of @hellsdemonictrinity.

I did it! Woohoo! It took a little longer than I had hoped, and it turned out longer than I expected it to, but I’m feeling really good about the result.

I want to get serious for two seconds here and address something. My dad once told me that soldiers are told first and foremost, before anything else, that they must obey orders. He said that was their greatest curse, and I agree. It’s something I see in Alex, something that is overlooked a lot in people’s harsh judgements of his actions. He grew up with Jesse, so let’s face the facts, shall we? Alex Manes was a soldier long before he was sent to war. I see so many people critiquing Alex for walking away at his father’s influence, and you know what? I didn’t love it, either, but when I say here that Alex followed his orders just like he always does, it wasn’t a jab at Alex. I’m trying to show you, and hopefully I got it across, that, Look, see, Alex is a victim of his own upbringing, too. Please keep that in mind.

And now for the fun stuff. I really like Kylex, and while I think this is primarily a Malex one-shot, I did try to add in a good amount of Kylex because they are just so cute, I think. Where Malex is rougher, more to do with sex, lust, and intense passion all around, Kylex, in my opinion, is softer, like Naruto and Sasuke. They have this bond that connects them both to each other and keeps them together, but there are external factors keeping them from being a couple. It’s like... they’re parabatai, you know? Except, unlike Alec and Jace, these two are more like parabatai who went through the ceremony when they were kids because they thought it was the only way for them to stay close and be together forever, and then grew to fall in love and realized that they were bound to the rules of their rune. This makes no sense if you’ve never watched or read Shadowhunters, but I promise, that comparison is hitting the nail right on the head.

One more thing before I tell you how much I love you all. I’m an avid fangirl, so anything I love, I love with an intense passion (much like Malex’s love, ha!). That means that I’m quivering with anticipation to see the final Avengers movie on the 26th, and in honor of Marvel, as well as one of my favorite superheroes ever, Alex Manes, I dropped a little Avengers: Endgame reference in this fic. See if you can find it! 😉

Alright, hope you enjoyed reading. Love you to the moon and beyond! ❤ 

[mochismilesbrighterthansun]

Blurred Lines

Chapter 6

Pairing: Park Jimin x reader

Word Count: 3,984

Warnings: Dark theme, violence, bad language. Degrading names. Smut. Fingering, sexual intercourse. Heavy smut. 

Genre: Angst, Smut.

Summary: Jimin takes a job as a correctional officer alongside Jungkook. You are a prisoner in Max and deemed a very dangerous inmate. But Jimin can’t help but feel protective over you.

A/N: This story contains violence and abuse physical as well as emotional if it’s not your thing pls skip it. Also this episode is heavy on smut and degrading names. 

“Your wounds are healing, but I am not too happy about those bruises they are taking an abnormal amount of time to heal so I am gonna keep a close eye to those.” Seulgi said with a smile plastered on her face.

“I thought the color was fading accordingly.” You replied eyeing your bruises.

“I don’t like the color, they should be more healed it’s been two weeks.”

You looked up to meet her gaze. She looked concerned.

“Oh it’s been that long already?” You asked because really? It had not felt that long.

“Yeah, your arms are doing well healing. Let’s just wait a week or two more.” she turned to write something on the clipboard.

“But I am going back to gen pop today right?” you asked not because you necessarily wanted to go back but things with Jimin were growing more awkward by the day, you weren’t sure you could endure another eight hours of silence and just the occasional small talk.

She looked at you horrified then. “Absolutely not, you stay here until all there is left on your arms are scars, I don’t want that thing popping back open.”

You knew what that meant, she meant she didn’t want Trina opening it up for you. So another two weeks maybe.

“I am letting Hoseok know you are decent.” her heels clicked against the floor as she walked to the door and opened it.

Hoseok walked inside in his uniform with a smile and a brown little bag. You recognized that bag. Jimin used to bring you those. He handed the bag to you. You looked up expectantly waiting for some kind of explanation but he provided none.

He simply sat on the chair next to your bed and began chewing on a pastry of his own.

“So orange or red?” he said out of nowhere.

But you were used to his out of context questions.

“Red, you know? Like the blood of my enemies?” you said chewing on the muffin.

“Yeah I’m trying to decide which color to help my little sister paint her room not her dungeons” he complained.

“Why red or orange? And in my defense you provided zero context.”

“She gave me two strips of whatever you call them and she told me to pick one and those were the colors.”

“I doubt it was orange.” you sing songed.

“Are you saying I’m color blind or something?” he was looking at you with a frown.

“Hoseok your sister is 7 I doubt she asked for an orange or red it has to be like a pinkish red or a sunrise orange.” you tried to explain but he looked lost.

“Why in the fuck do people have the fucking need to rename colors I like green simple that’s simple shit how the fuck are you gonna name a fucking color sunrise orange what the fuck kind of color is that?” he looked deeply upset by this.

And in his whole rant you couldn’t help but start laughing.

“I am glad my misery is amusing, fuck that she getting orange and she better fucking like it.” He decided taking the last bite out of his danish.

“You’re mean, what if she has a theme?, oh tell me she does.” you looked at him excitedly.

He half smiled and looked at you directly, “I’ll tell you what I’ll bring the whole plan for you tomorrow.” he replied.

Time fled by like it usually did with him and Jungkook, you knew Jungkook was next and you waited eagerly. He had been bringing you food from outside and you didn’t know how things looked inside the prison but you doubted they were allowed to be bringing you food.

The doorknob turned and when you saw Jimin entering instead your face fell. Not because you weren’t excited but because you were expecting Jungkook and Jungkook had a way of talking and Jimin all he did was try to avoid you in this small four walled room and it was too much to know he came here out of pity or as a favor to the other two boys. It hurt.

“Don’t look so damn happy to see me Y/N.” He said bitterly taking his blue uniform button up off.

Hoseok started putting away the board game you guys were playing. “Well maybe if you actually tried to talk to her she wouldn’t be looking at you like that.” Hoseok muttered grabbing his backpack.

You looked at Hoseok with wide eyes.

“She doesn’t like the shit I got to say so I just don’t say it.” He bit back almost bored like if this was something they had talked about already.

“Whatever man.” Hoseok turned to look at you, “see you tomorrow.” He hugged you and you saw Jimin staring.

“Don’t forget to bring me the plans.” You mumbled shyly.

He smiled brightly, “Fuck no I need some help with this shit.” He replied, he turned to look at Jimin and smiled. “See you later man.” He patted his back and left.

And awkward silence started.

“Is Jungkook gonna come or?” You asked not looking at him.

He sighed, “No he is sick and he can’t come today.”

What.the.fuck.  

“So, who is taking your shift?”

“Seriously?” he seemed annoyed.

“It’s like sixteen hours you can’t stay here sixteen hours.” you tried to argue but he just looked at you.

“Yeah I can, I am not leaving you alone.”

You panicked then, sixteen fucking hours hell no you could barely last eight without suffocating yourself.

“It’s okay if you can’t stay.” you stood up and tried to walk around the bed.

But Jimin was in front of you in an instant.

“Do you really just hate me that fucking much?” he asked looking down at you.

You looked up at him and shook your head.

“That’s not it.” You whispered, you tried to walk around him but he grabbed your arm gently.

“Then what is it? Why can’t you talk to me the way you talk to Hoseok and Jungkook?” he pressed.

“Because I just can’t alright?” You tried walking again but he just pulled you in closer to his chest.

“Tell me.” his breath fanned against your face.

He was so close to you, you could feel his hands tighten on your upper arms. He was too close you couldn’t reply, his scent was intoxicating you and all you could see was those full lips that kissed you so long ago it seemed like a dream.

He noticed you staring at his lips because in a second he smashed them against your own. This kiss was nothing like the other one had been, you remember the softness and delicacy with which he had kissed you.

But right now he was kissing you like a starved man. Like he didn’t want to stop and you didn’t want him to, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him. His tongue entered your mouth and you moaned at the contact but this time he didn’t stop.

He kept kissing you and with his other hand he pulled at your waist. He began kissing your jaw and your neck he pulled at the skin with his teeth and you moaned again.

“Tell me to stop.” He said in between breaths. “Tell me to fucking stop please.” He begged marking bruises on your skin.

“I can’t.” You said in a moan, he stopped then and tried to walk away but you pulled on him. “I can’t because I don’t want you to.”

He grabbed on you then and lifted you, he began kissing you again as he walked you to the small bed where you slept. He laid you down and kept kissing you, he laid in between your legs and you could feel how hard he was, he began grinding you your core and both of you let out shaky moans. He kept grinding on you and you couldn’t stop moaning, you had never felt anything like that before. The flimsy prison panties did little to cover how wet you were.  

He reached down with his hand and rubbed at your clothed core slowly he placed his other hand over your mouth to cover your moans.

“Shhh baby you don’t want anyone else to hear.” He kept kissing at your jaw as he rubbed on your core. “You are so fucking wet.” He mumbled against your skin and you moaned even louder even as his hand muffled it. “You like that baby?” He asked, you nodded quickly. He continued to rub at your center, but suddenly stopped. You looked at him afraid of just the fact that he might be stopping. “Can I call you names?” He asked sweetly.

You just stared at him, “You can call me whatever you want or do whatever you want just don’t stop.” You whispered against his palm.

He smiled and kissed you again resuming his pace against your core. He reached inside with his hand and as soon as his bare hand made contact with your drenched core you moaned even louder.

“You feel that? I could just slide in this slutty pussy right now with how wet you fucking are.” You moaned at his words, “you want that?” He wouldn’t stop kissing you as he kept rubbing your pussy, “you want me to fuck you with my fingers?” You nodded, “Fucking beg me”

You looked at him, and were passed caring, “Please can you fuck me with your fingers?” You asked in a whine, “Please please pleeasee….” you kept saying.

He smiled once more and started rubbing again, slowly he pushed one finger inside, he was right you were so wet he slid right in. He pushed a second one and you moaned louder.

“You are so fucking tight, I can’t wait to feel you wrapping around my cock.” You tightened at his comment, “Does my baby girl want that?” He began moving his fingers faster, “Answer or I stop.” He said slowing down his fingers.

“Yes please I want it so bad.” You moaned squeezing your eyes.

But he stopped, your eyes opened and searched for his. “Yes what?” He asked.

“Yes daddy please.” He smiled and resumed his pace, he covered your mouth with his own to swallow your moans.

“I fucking wanted you for so long, but I kept thinking you didn’t want me and I’d be forcing you.” He said adding a third finger.  He reached with his thumb for your clit and began tapping on it making you moan into his mouth. “You have to be quiet baby girl someone is gonna come and find you spread out ready for my cock.” You tried to hold your moans but the feeling was too strong. “I want you to cum for me on my fingers so I can fuck you baby,” you nodded and without a warning he stopped.

“Why..” you started but stopped when you saw him moving downwards. “What are you…” your words died in your throat as he licked a stripe from the bottom to your clit. You let your head fall back against the pillow and you covered your own mouth, he pushed two fingers inside and began fucking into you fastly as he sucked your clit into his mouth you came instantly. He kept licking your pussy through your orgasm  and soon you bega to feel over sensitive.

He went back up to you and began kissing you, “Can you take more?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah fuck me Jimin.” You said into his mouth kissing him, he pulled at the white gown and took it off your body leaving you naked, you pulled at his shirt and he took it off in one swift motion he began kissing your chest and sucking bruises into them. You heard his belt unbuckle and his zipper. You pulled at his face and began kissing his lips again.

“I don’t have a condom,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I’m clean.” You mumbled back desperate to not have him leave your lips even for a second.

“Me too, do you trust me?” He asked looking into your eyes.

“Yeah of course I do.”

He started kissing you again and began rubbing his cock on your pussy collecting your juices. You moaned at the contact. You felt the tip at the center and he began pushing slowly.

“Fuuck fuck fuckk Jimiiin” you moaned as you felt him going deeper and deeper. “It’s so fucking big” you moaned. You could feel the stretch his forehead was against your shoulder.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” He choked.

“Nononi keep going please.” You moaned.

He kept pushing until he bottomed out. He moaned loudly after that. “You are so fucking tight and wet fuck I’m gonna cum if I move.” You wrapped your legs around him laying them crossed against his ass. He began moving slowly, “you feel so fucking good, your mine from now on you understand?” You moaned feeling him go faster. “Fucking tell me you are mine.” He demanded.

“I’m yours Jimin” you moaned out.

“Fuck yes you are, whose pussy is this?” He asked and he continued to fasted his pace.

“Yours it’s all yours”

“Yeah it fucking is this is all mine and you can’t touch it without my permission baby.” He began sucking into your breast and you moaned. “That’s right only my cock can make you feel like this. You are a cockslut but just for me right?” You nodded. “Answer or I stop.” He demanded again.

“Fuuuuck yeaaah .. yes your slut I’m your slut fu- fuck.” You almost screamed as he pounded into you faster making the bed creak. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.”

“No you can’t, not until I let you.” He buried his face on your neck muffling his own moans.

“Pleaaase Jimin let me cum, I need to cum.” Without meaning to you squeezed him as you neared your orgasm.

“Fuuuck…” his voice was muffled by your neck. He drilled harder into you finding your g spot and hitting it over and over. You bit your lip almost drawing blood.

“Jimiiiin” you whined lowly, “please let me cum pleeeease ..”

“Cum” he said into your neck, and you did with a silent scream your walls contracting around his dick. He began going even faster, you felt him trying to pull out but you pulled on him.

“Cum inside me Jimin please just come inside.” You whispered into his ear grabbing his face, you turned it and began kissing him on the lips.

He came while he kissed you. You felt his dick throbbing  inside of you. He was panting just laying on top of you. You were both sweaty but you couldn’t find it in you to tell him to move. Once again he buried his face on your neck and after a moment you thought he had fallen asleep until you felt him stir.

You searched for his gaze because you were terrified he would see this as a mistake. Or that he had just too horny to contain himself. What had you just done. Thoughts were running through your head as he slowly got off from you, his dick slipped out from you and you could feel his cum seeping out from you.

For the first time in years you were nervous and feared what his reaction would be after this. He went to the small sink and grabbed some paper towels and wet them. Without speaking he cleaned himself and pulled his pants back up. You didn’t realize he never fully took them off.

He threw those away and wet some more paper towels. He walked towards you and reached for your thigh he pushed your legs a little wider and began cleaning you with tenderness you had never experienced. You flinched a little because you were beginning to feel sore after the high had faded away.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked softly.

He still didn’t look at you. You grabbed his hands to try to get his attention.

“You didn’t Jimin.” You searched for his gaze but he returned to the task at hand.

When he was done he threw the paper towels away and grabbed his shirt from the floor, he put it on and collected your panties from the floor with your blue gown. He helped you put them on in complete silence and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Stop.” You said as he was tying your gown behind you, his hands immediately stopped and you turned to face him, his face was devoid of color and his posture stiff. “Jimin what are you thinking?” you asked because you really wanted to know what was gonna happen now.

“I am just like Steve, I took advantage of you.” he said quietly turning his gaze to the floor.

You grabbed his face in your hands and made him look at you.

“You are nothing like that disgusting pig, do you understand me?” your eyes watered, “You are kind and caring and you are just good Jimin I can see it in you anyone can see it, if I had told you to stop I KNOW you would have, I wanted it okay?” By the end tears were spilling from your eyes because it was you the one that didn’t deserve him.

He reached for your face and cleaned your tears.

You were probably the most horrible person in the world right now. Because you wanted to be selfish and take whatever he offered even if you knew there was just no future no nothing. But you wanted to bask in this feeling for as much as you could.

So you reached for his face again and brought his lips down to yours. There was no struggle from his side for that you were grateful. You kissed him slowly tasting his lips, he tightened his hold on your waist and tried to deepen the kiss but you laughed into the kiss.

He broke apart from the kiss and eyed you.

“You can break this off whenever you want you know that right?”  he said seriously.

“And what is this?”

“You could say you’re my girl now, I mean that’s what it could be if you wanted.”

You laughed at that.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He was quiet for a moment before saying, “No, I’m asking you to turn in your sister.”

[kashimos-hajime]

Social Justice

Request: could you do a peter kavinsky x reader imagine where everyone in the school knows your Peter's, so they don't even dare try hitting on you, except this one guy does it so often that Peter just gets so angry. But instead of yelling at him in a angry manner, Peter confronts him with such sarcasm and calmness that it ends up scaring the guy away? yeah idk? something like that i guess...

A/N: Hope I do you justice, anon!

As always, thank you @teawithbucky​ for giving this a read over before I let you all read it.

Masterlist and Taglist are in my bio!

Summary: When a new student threatens the power couple of high school, you and Peter Kavinsky firmly put him back in his place with a proper verbal smack down.

Characters: Peter Kavinsky

Wordcount: 1.7k

Rating: T (swearing, one slap, sexual harrassment, strong feminist views because I can’t help myself and I love writing a strong Reader)

You grab your what-was-once-hot coffee and sigh, raking your gaze over the stack of textbooks in your locker. It’s lunch (finally) and you’re exhausted.

“Hey, babe,” Peter greets, sneaking up behind you with his hands on your hips. Not paying him any mind, you cast a doubtful look at the chemistry textbook, wondering if you should study during lunch.

“How was the chem test?” you ask and he plucks the takeaway coffee cup from your hand. He quickly presses a kiss to your neck before taking a sip of your coffee. Making a face, he swallows painfully and you try to stifle a smile.

“It was pretty easy. You should be good to go for tomorrow.” He heads down the hall to throw away the cup as you nod to yourself. That means less work for you. Closing your locker, you smile at your boyfriend. He always has a habit of making you smile even when all you want to do is frown so much that the lines become permanently engraved on your face. Adjusting your backpack, you sneak an arm around his waist as he tosses one around your shoulders, bringing you close.

“Wanna get some subs?” Shrugging, you push open the school doors just as someone calls your name.

“(Y/N)! Hey!” Turning around, you feel Peter’s arm fall away as you spot Thomas Callaway who’d been assigned as your chem partner since the new seating arrangement had taken place. Also a new student, you’d been assigned as his tour guide for his first month. “Hey.”  

“Thomas, hey.” Smiling, you brush a piece of hair behind your ear as Peter grabs your free hand, kissing your temple. “Do you need something?”

“Uh, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the movies? See the new Shades of Grey movie?” He has a smirk on his face but you, knowing that every Thursday means a chill night with Peter, shake your head.

“Sorry, I have plans.” With one last (not so) apologetic look, you and your boyfriend turn around and he reaches for the door when Thomas calls out again.

“How about lunch? We can ditch the afternoon.”

“I’m gonna get subs with Peter,” you say and Thomas’ eyes go to the taller Peter Kavinsky who has an indifferent expression directed down at him.

“Right. Is that even allowed?”

“As long as you don’t tell,” you say flatly. “Can you find your way to the cafeteria?”

He stutters for a moment, at a loss for words before uttering, “Yeah. Uh, maybe next time?” You shrug and then the two of you turn. Tossing a glance over your shoulder, you offer a forced smile.

“Yeah, next time.”

As the two of you leave the high school, Peter lets go of your hand and resumes the arm around your shoulder.

“Who was that?” he asks, acting disinterested. Knowing he’s only trying to act aloof, you nudge him in the ribs.

“My new chem partner. Play nice for now.”

“If he doesn’t stop flirting with you, I might have to mark my territory,” he mumbles with a hot glare and you laugh, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I don’t like him either.” He tilts your chin up, pressing a full kiss against your mouth. Pushing back, you wrinkle your nose when he pulls away first. “Come on. We needa get back in time.” Tugging your hand, the two of you start in a run towards the Subway down the block.

.

As the month goes on, you find yourself more short-tempered and annoyed than a usual first month back. Normally September’s weather makes you all calm and happy, but with Thomas Callaway as your parasite, you find yourself being unable to be anything but.

It started out fine. Little proposals to hang out, to study, and then it became outrageous.

“Hey, good lookin’.”

“If your name came up in ‘Smash or Pass’, I’d full on smash.”

“Your ass in jeans shouldn’t be legal.”

Let’s just say Peter’s temper matched yours whenever the two of you saw him. To say the most popular couple in school is on a warpath is an understatement. Although the both of you are well respected in your own right, everyone knows to stay the fuck away from either of you. Every girl and guy has made a solidarity pact and everyone likes (or respects or fears) both you and Peter too much to so much as glance in the direction of your boobs and his dick.

Callaway just didn’t get the damn fucking memo.

As the date of homecoming approaches, you know that Peter will plan something elaborate to ask you out. Every year you feel the urge to tell him it doesn’t matter. He could ask you while you were in the middle of the exam and you’d still say yes. Not enthusiastically, but you would say yes. Unfortunately for you, that means that Thomas Callaway’s ‘suave’ flirtations doubled in amount.

As you stand at your locker during break, stuffing your notebook into your locker, you feel another presence hover over you.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Mentally preparing yourself, you pay Callaway no mind even when his breath puffs over your ear. “You got a date to homecoming? Because if you don’t...” He clicks his tongue and jabs a thumb towards himself. Rolling your eyes, you pause to calm yourself down before beginning to jam your textbook into your locker a lot harder than God intended.

“As I’ve told you a thousand times, I am going with Peter. I have been dating him since I have met you; that is not going to change, and I don’t want to go with anyone else.”

“Aw, come on. What does he have that I don’t?” Callaway asks, coming closer until his lips brush against your ear. Closing your eyes, you give him a count to three. You know people are staring and whispering, probably at how stupid this new guy is and when you give him two extra seconds and count to five, you’re wondering why you’re so merciful today. “Come on, baby, why don’t you bend over-”

“Woah!” Whirling around, you slap him hard across the face. He stumbles back as you storm up to him, digging a finger hard into his chest. “No. You don’t get to say that. You do not get to come to my locker, into my personal space, and insinuate things I don’t like, even after weeks of me saying no. You may have been able to push around other girls, make them feel uncomfortable, but let me tell you,” you chuckle, “you chose the wrong girl. I am not afraid to stand up to you. I am not afraid to make a scene. You have been sexually harassing me, even when I have calmly, firmly told you no. I have been forced to work with you because the school has told me to do so. You seem to mistake it for interest. I assure you. It is not. I loathe you. I despise you. And don’t think I won’t report you to the goddamn principal. You’re nasty.”

“You wonder what Peter Kavinsky has over you? A sense of what consent is near the top of the list,” you snap. “Leave me alone, Callaway.”

“Bitch,” he spits and you laugh facetiously. So he’s one of those people. “You’re probably one of those sluts who has him wrapped around your finger while you go off blowing all his friends.”

“Oh, don’t be one of those sad, sad guys. Calling me names because I hurt your little fragile ego? Slut-shaming? Really? I hope you grow up before you even think about asking another woman out again.” Slamming your locker closed, you turn to walk away when you see your boyfriend standing there with a slight smile on his face. A crowd has half-formed, students littering the halls in a semi-circle around you but you don’t care.

“You know, that wasn’t smart of you to piss her off like that,” Peter starts dangerously, walking forward and placing himself between you and Callaway. “Mostly because one, she can fucking kick your ass and two, she has a boyfriend who can probably bench press you right now if he wanted to.” Peeking around Peter, you see Callaway stare at you. “You know what else was a genius move of yours? Hitting on a girl who has a boyfriend.” Peter smiles blandly at the shorter guy as he takes a few paces up to him. “I’ve let it go, seeing as how you’re the new guy, but let me make one thing very, very clear. You come near her again outside the classroom again, and I don’t think you’ll like what happens to you, Thomas. You are not worth her time with how you act and what you say. Grow up, dude, seriously.”

Peter genuinely sounds disgusted and disappointed; so deeply so that it makes you chuckle and he glances back at you. He winks and you smirk as he turns back to Callaway.

“Go, man. Why are you still here? You’re just embarrassing yourself.” There’s a long moment where Callaway stares at you then drags his gaze back to Peter.

“Whatever. You’re not worth my time anyways. Skank.” You roll your eyes. What a classic tactic to bid for the last word. Name-calling. Cute.

“Uhm, bitch, you’re walking a fine line.” Peter crosses his arms over his chest and for a moment, there’s a long stare-off. “You’re dismissed, Callaway.” Another tense silence, then Callaway turns pushes through the crowd. “Let him through.”

“Alright guys, showdown is over. Let’s just get back to class,” you announce as Peter finally turns around with that wide smile you know is for you.

“I am so blessed that you’re my girl,” he whispers and you laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. “Honestly, I only wanted to step in for my two-cents but watching you verbally kick his ass was pretty great.”

“Well, now you’re making me blush,” you faux-swoon and he laughs, twirling you around. “Come on. Let’s get to class.” Pulling away, you extend your hand towards him and he takes it, swinging your arms as you walk to history.

“I love you.” Beaming from ear to ear, you feel your neck warm up as you stare at the tiles beneath your shoes.

“I love you, too.”

TAGS: @teawithbucky @shadowsndaisies @meemeehoelland