#*whispers* chapter 7 has been out for ages i forgot to tell you all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilxberry · 3 years

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I Watched You Die} 6 - Natasha Romanoff

Synopsis;

Someone from Natashas’ past makes the most of unsuspected arrivals and begins to cause issues, not only for her, just everyone they come into contact with. HYDRA uses them as a simple puppet and Natasha believes that maybe, just maybe, she could get them back to her in the way she remembers.

Warnings: Language. Fighting. Terrible writing (this chapter was terrible.)

Words: 3,123

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (female reader) (super soldier reader) (HYDRA reader)

(A/N: There’s some time jumps that aren’t stated but it’s still relatively easy to follow in that sense. Also, this chapter is more so a filler but nonetheless is related to the story.)

(A/N 2: Strucker and interactions with him are in German and a small interaction with Wanda is in Slovak as a substitute for Sokovian. There is some Russian in this but it’s quite easy to distinguish between the languages’ used.)

< Chapter 5 Chapter 7 >

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Her head throbbed and her neck was stiff and pained from its lolled position it had been in hours on end. Even with her head tilted forward and down towards the hard floor beneath her, the light felt harsh against her eyes, a stinging, burning sensation appearing each time she cracks an eye open.

“Ah, I hope you slept well, Miss Romanoff.”

The familiarity in the voice caused Natasha to tense and she willed her eyes to open and remain as such. Raising her head, her eyes automatically lock on to the figure before her in which everyone believed was dead.

“How are you here?”

The man chuckled and began to take steps towards the tied up red head, his hands folded together behind his back, a smug look etched into his features. “It is quite incredible the technology we have within this day and age, yes?”

Her features twisted up into a sneer, glaring at the one of the few notorious HYDRA leaders they, the Avengers, had come to face. “Why can’t people just stay dead?”

Strucker rounded her body leaving her to look at the room they held her within; bland in colour but crowded with technology. “I believe you’re also not referring to only me now, are you?” He clicks his tongue. “Yes, Y/N. Our best asset yet. The twins were exceptional, yes and the winter soldier was successful until recent years, but Y/N is our best creation.”

His German accent is thick as the words pass into her ears and registers his words, but his next sentence as he leans down to whisper right beside her head makes her blood run cold. “Finding her on the brink of death was undoubtfully wonderful, on our part at least.”

The man chuckled as he straightened himself back out, standing to his full height before rounding her seated position once more to stand before her. “How are our previous assets, anyways? The updates Ghost gives are quite minimal in unnecessary data.”

Silence. Strucker tsked at her lack of response and spun on heel, taking one, two, three steps forward before coming to a standstill. “I suppose you’d like to know why we have you hear,” he called over his shoulder to her. When he was met with silence once more, he continued.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers have certainly been a right ganz schlimmer, a large spanner in our works. We run smoothly when you and your little friends keep out of our business. Perfectly running machinery. So, we’re simply removing the issue with our operation. You.” (Fucking pain.)

Slow and intimidating were his steps as he little by little made his way over towards a board of panels which, much like every other piece of technology was surrounded by people in off-white lab coats. His fingers danced over the multiple of buttons that littered the deck of the panel.

“You may not think so yourself but, we believe you are the strongest of your little band of heroes. No, not physically. Mentally? Yes. We also believe, if we break you, the rest of the team will surely follow in crumbling down.”

His eyes linger on one spot in particular on the panel, his finger hovering over it. “Now you’re also wondering why I’m electing to tell you all this. The answer is simple, really.” He pushes down on a button, resulting in the chair that Natasha is strapped to, to recline backwards, much like a chair in a barbers’, before laying her flat.

“You’re stuck here.”

Natashas’ head looks from left to right in a frantic manner as Strucker steps away from the lengthy panel of buttons and stalks towards her, his boots quietly squeaking against the cold, smooth floor of the room.

Above her is some form of machinery she could best describe as terrifying in appearance, harsh glinting metal and a mass of wires. Movement to both her left and right signify to her that people are beginning to close in on her and surround her. Panic rises in her body further as someone steps closer to her head holding what she believed was a mouth guard; something she’ll be biting down on.

She shakes her head in a desperate attempt to avoid the object but with no such luck. Someone had violently grasped her jaw in a bruising grip and forced the guard into her mouth. Strucker leans over her laying form and the evil grin on his face is purely sickening.

“Have you ever felt 450 volts of electricity surged through your body before? No? Oh, don’t worry. IT should be over before you know it.” He pulls back, making Natasha follow his with her eyes. Her protests are muffled by the guard in her mouth. “But, please, be mindful when it comes to the convulsions that follow. You wouldn’t like to break a bone, surely.”

Strucker walks towards yet another panel, this time with AMP and voltage gages along with other gages she couldn’t quite make out from her position. He places his hand atop a dial and nods his head once to one of the many people scuttling around the room. She feels something be attached to each temple and it reminds her strongly of the old school, brutal electroshock therapy that doctors used to dole out.

“Shall we move this along and see how long it takes until you break?”

Natasha spots your body stood stiff and squared near the door at the foot of the room, features lacking any show of emotion. Her eyes widened, and she desperately hoped that her eyes asked what she couldn’t.

‘Help me.’

Your being, unmoving and unchanged, is the last thing she sees before searing hot pain shots through her body. She bites down on the guard and releases and ear-piercing scream around it as her whole-body tenses and her back arches up, fists clenched tightly, and toes curled.

Her body falls limp for a short moment before the process repeats, over and over. Like an unending, destructive cycle.

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The team had tirelessly put in every effort to find the missing ex-assassin. When Natasha had taken too long to return to the others, Clint did what was asked of him. He waited until the end of the following day when she had left before telling the others.

With no sightings and no communication from the Avenger, they were at a lost.

4 days had passed, coming close to 5, with no such luck in finding Natasha. Every member of the close-knit team had put in hours and hours on end into locating her; everything had been fruitless. The team had chewed out the archer for not mentioning anything sooner than he had but he had argued that he valued his word and believed Natsha would be fine, that she could look after herself.

They couldn’t argue with him on that.

“I’ve got nothing. We haven’t found shit and it’s been what? 4 days since anyone had last seen her?”

Their hopes in finding her were dwindling quickly, its rate in decrease sped up after the three-day mark. Stark groaned and leant back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly between his pointer finger and thumb.

“Honestly, I blame Fury for making us use phones that I can’t hack. We’d find her a lot fucking faster if I could just get into it.”

“Language,” Steve muttered before releasing a lengthy sigh. As he went to open his mouth to respond, Tony perked up, this time looking extremely more optimistic than previous.

“HOLY SHIT!” He spun his chair to face the computer on the desk and began to rapid begin typing. The others watched him with scepticism before slowly moving to crowd the billionaire.

“You wanna explain to the class, Stark?”

“You know how I never listen to Fury?” He heard a collective of hums in agreement before continuing. “Well, when I was encrypting the phones we all use, I may have purposefully left out my location cloaking software.”

“So, you’re saying you can ping her location and you failed to mention this?!” Wanda exclaimed.

“One, ouch. Don’t scream in my ear like a damn banshee, Matilda. Two, I forgot. It’s not like we actually use it.”

The team watched in anticipation as Tonys’ fingers continued to rapidly tap at the keyboard. Moments pass by with bated breaths before a small red dot appears on a map that pops up. They stare at the bright red dot in a prolonged silence before Steve straightens out with a hardened face.

“Let’s move.”

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“I don’t understand. Why San Fransico?”

The statement from Sam was what each of them wanted to voice but none did. Each step through the city was following that damn pinged location. The day before it had been in Washington, the day before that was Oklahoma.

They could be tracking a ghost trail for all they knew, certainly with how quickly the location seemed to switch between states so quickly.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Update.”

“Location has remained the same. The Railway Museum is just one block away, sir.”

Tony rolls his shoulders before turning to look towards those who walk with him. He and Steve share a look, already knowing that this is more than likely a trap or mislead.

“Only a few of us will enter. Everyone else is going to surround the building, cover each possible exit. Buck, I want you with me, Sam and Wanda. Clint, you think you can take to a nearby building keep an eye on the roof and the main entrance?”

Clint nodded as Steve doled out orders for the group to follow. With the archers’ non-verbal confirmation, the captain continued.

“Thor, I want you to take the West side of the building with Banner. Pietro, you take East. Stark, I want you to take the back with Vision.” Everyone nods followed by them splitting off in the direction of the respective positions.

Dressed as civilians was helpful with entering the museum; they turned no heads when entering the building. The four inside had separated themselves, hoping to search the interior in record time rather than they be grouped up together.

The comms the team had donned before splitting ways crackled before Tony’s voice sounded through into each team members’ ear. “I’ve had F.R.I.D.A.Y. put the location on each of your phones, make it easier for you guys to know if you’re closing in.”

Simultaneously, Steve, Sam, Wanda and Bucky pull out their smartphones and allow the screen to open up correctly, a simple map of the interior showing a blinking red dot in the centre of the building.

The small team inside opposed to those outside slowly close in to the centre of the museum, covering all sides.

Adrenaline begins to heighten as they inch their way closer and closer. Emotions are running high and minds are swirling with possibilities and before they knew it, they surround the exhibit at the very middle of the building.

A large group being led by some guide moves on with their tour and reveals a lone person still stood there; hood up and phone in hand. Steve glances down at the phone in his own hand and sure enough, the dot hasn’t moved.

This is what they’ve been chasing.

With their head down, both Sam and Bucky who face their front can’t identify who holds the phone, Natashas’ phone.

Between the four, a look was shared and with a nod of their head in the figure’s direction, they begin to slowly close in once more. Wanda, Sam and Bucky slow to a stop, only a short distance away as Steve continues to stalk closer and with a few more steps, he’s stood behind the figure.

He reaches an arm out and clamps his hand down on their shoulder which begins to shake slightly as the person laughs quietly. The person slowly raises their head with a shit eating grin on their face and both Sam and Bucky tense, their jaws clenching, teeth grinding.

Wanda freezes up along with them as the figure slowly turns to face Steve; easily catching a glimpse herself.

“At ease, солдат,” your voice rasps. (Soldier.)

You hand moves quickly to clamp on to the blondes’ wrist and before he could react, you bring your head forward in a quick, whip-like motion, slamming it into his nose; a satisfying crunch is heard and blood already beginning to trickle out.

Twisting his arm, you land a hard kick to his ribs and send him back, him falling to the floor with quite the thud, even sliding across the floor a good foot or two. The others had quickly reacted, Sam and Bucky charging over towards you.

You alternate between the two as they dole out a choreographed offensive; punches, kicks, full body hits. The two had been going a solid minute and had done zero damage, even with Steve standing himself back up on to his feet and charging at you himself.

Wanda had dealt with the screaming and panicked public from the first sign of retaliation, giving firm orders to leave the building and to get a safe distance.

The second the first of the civilians exited the building in a rushed and yelling fashion, the team was on high alert.

“Someone talk to us,” Clint crackled through the comms, his sights down the length of the arrow he already has notched and ready to release.

“It’s Y/N.” Just that simple statement made the whole team know exactly what was currently going down. “They had Natashas’ phone. HYDRA put us on a wild goose chase.”

The grunts from Steve, Sam and Bucky brought Wanda’s head back into the fight at hand. The three were being easily overpowered by just yourself and she’s unsure how to proceed. With quick thinking, she uses her powers to push her teammates aside and away from you, the swirl of red like mist dancing around her fingers.

Your attention snaps from the three that had been thrown away from you to the little witch who stood off to the side. You roll your shoulders and smirk before stomping your way over to her aggressively.

You feel your movements slowly become restricted and it’s harder and harder to move forward. Wanda, with a struggle, brings to down to your knees before you could reach her and all you could do it look up at her with a devious smirk.

Tongue peeking out between your lips, you wet them and trail your eyes up and down the length of her body and the action makes her sick to your stomach. “Som ohromená, princezná.” (I’m impressed, princess.)

She takes step towards you, slow, precise, and what she hoped was menacing. “Where’s Natasha?” she spat between her teeth.

You chuckle darkly and shake her head, noticing how she lacked to remember to keep her distance. “You’re in no position to ask questions, little witch.” With perseverance, your left arm shoots forward, grasping her wrist much like you had done with the caps. Shocked, the moment forces Wanda to lose concertation and drops her magical hold on you.

You swipe at the opportunity and raise to your full height, towering over the Sokovian and delivering a hard right hook to the girl, knocking her unconscious the moment your fist made contact with her jaw.

Turning, you look at the trio of men who look at an unconscious Wanda by your feet with wide and worried eyes. You smirk once more as you pull Natasha’s phone from your pocket and wave it slightly before tossing it in their direction. “Keep it. I’m done with it.”

You take small steps backwards away from the four before turning tail and running, closer and closer to the back entrance.

“She’s heading to you guys at the back,” Steve rushes out, struggling to come to a stand and give chase.

“Understood, capsicle.” Tony and Vison both prepare themselves for your arrival, to burst through the doors and go into combat just like the four inside had done. But they waited and waited and waited. Nothing. “Uh, no sign of her. Anyone got eyes on the slippery bastard?” Stark reaches out to the others.

Sam and Bucky left Americas’ sweetheart and Scarlet Witch with the intentions of cheeking the inside of the building, running around the whole of the museum as the team converse.

“Nothing here.”

“Nope.”

“No clue.”

“Nada.”

“Zilch.”

The team’s response came in like clockwork and the entire team felt baffled. Where did you disappear to?

“So, she just evaporated? What the fuck? Are you sure no one has eyes on her?”

“Look,” Steve started. “As much as I want to find them and get some answers, we gotta focus on Wanda. She’s down.” He was kneeling beside her unconscious form and like a lightbulb being lit from a switch, Pietro was right beside his sister on the opposite side of Steve, absolute panic and concern shifting through his eyes.

Steve hears a sigh through the comms followed by Banners’ voice. “Let’s get back. It’s clear they’ve disappeared somehow, and we should focus on Maximoff right now.”

Steve shakes his head and moves to stand, Pietro already holding his twin in his arms. “Let’s go, team.”

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“Wie ich sehe, können wir ihr Telefon nicht länger als Ablenkung für sie benutzen,” Strucker spoke as his back was turned to you, hands folded behind his back, looking at the painting hung on the wall with disinterest. (I see we can no longer use her phone as a distraction for them.)

“Sie werden sie nicht finden können, auch wenn wir sie nicht mehr auf Gänsejagd führen, Sir,” you respond, you own hands folded behind your back. Your eyes are trained on his form as he slowly turns to face you, casually rounded the desk to stand before you. (They won't be able to find her even if we no longer lead them on such wild goose chases', sir.)

“Hoffentlich nicht, Soldat. Es liegt an Ihnen, wenn sie sie finden.” His eyes look you up and down subtly, scrutinising you before turning away from you and striding over towards his desk. “Es ist jetzt zu heiß für dich, Ghost. Zu viele Leute werden dich nach deinem kleinen öffentlichen Stunt erkennen. Du sollst in der Einrichtung bleiben. Sie bewachen Romanoff und begleiten sie zum und vom Labor. Verstanden?” (They better not, soldier. It will be on your head if they are to find her.) (There's too much heat on you now, Ghost. Too many people will recognise you after your little public stunt. You are to stay within the facility. You will guard Romanoff and escort her to and from the lab. Understood?)

“Verstanden.” (Understood.)

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THIS WAS SO BAD LMAO

I just needed a filler honestly so, this will do for the time being

If you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

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Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual @iwazoomingouttahere @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

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‘I Watched You Die’ taglist:

@diaryoflife @username23345 @drpepperobsessed @fayhar @d14n4ol @srtamercurio @gabbygabbie @lostandsearching @afuckingshituniverse @thea13sworld @nelouath8 @navs-bhat @pistachiomilk3 @peggycarter-steverogers @b-5by5 @trikruismybitch @anxiousgoldengirl @when-wolves-howl @whitelotus00 @anxiousgoldengirl @daniescady @unexpected-character @lgtftchan @mitch-cabello1097 @wlwfanfictionss @gottacamz

(Those whose @ is in bold, I could not tag unfortunately.)

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juletheghoul · 3 years

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Oblivius Chapter 7

This is a CHONKY BOI. THE BACHELOR 'PARTY' IS HERE PEOPLE.

This is by far my longest chapter and I had most of it written before I even posted the second chapter of this story. Makes me SOOO happy how pumped all of you are to read this, it has taken over my life. Keep messaging! Keep sending me asks! 💖

Would love to do little drabbles, memories - anything to do with these two (except spoilers of course)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: TW: INFIDELITY 👀 Angst, yearning, kissing, **18+ [no minors] SMUT** p in v (sex wrap it up) Oral, F & M receiving, language (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Prev Part Playlist

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Age 28:

“I just love her, I love her so much and there’s nothing I can do.” He was drunk and in a bad way.

“I know Fish, it’s tough from here but maybe when you get back you can talk to her.” He knew Pope was trying to make him feel better, but when he’d spoken to his mom earlier in the week and he’d heard that she was seeing someone- it had broken his heart.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting - she’d never promised anything but he had this hope that she’d wait for him. That she’d be there to greet him with the love he’d always craved from her.

“She’s with someone else, I just want her to want me.” If he kept going down this road he was going to cry. He couldn’t cry here. Not in this bar and not when it was crawling with other soldiers.

“I think you should just talk to her when you get home, Fish - things might change when you see her again. Or do the grown up thing, and move on.” He looked at him, regret and heartbreak on his face.

“There’s no one like her.” He said it more to himself than Pope but he heard it all the same.

There was a pretty girl walking over to him now, a shy smile on her face.

“Hi - I’m Claudia - can I buy you a drink?” She wasn’t Spills, but she was very pretty.

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**Present Day**

The week leading up to the wedding was a blur. It simultaneously flew and crawled by. Schrodinger's week.

The dinner was coming up and with it a curious feeling was settling itself in your stomach. A strange mixture of desperation and acceptance. The acceptance told you that if Francis wanted to get married then you should keep your mouth shut and let him get on with his life.

The desperate, possessive part of you reminded you that he was your perfect match, that you shouldn’t let Claudia have him when he so obviously belonged to you. How would you accomplish that though? How could that be done without him hating you for ruining his wedding?

When you were sitting in the restaurant surrounded by the wedding party both those thoughts plagued you. They kept you quiet and pensive, present, but secluded within your own mind as they fought for dominance.

Benny sat next to you like always and you got the sense he was gearing up to make a move and you didn’t exactly know how to feel about it. Your mind was battling over that too.

Do I go out with him and try to get over Francis? Or do I turn him away, and keep pining over a soon to be married man? Choices.

Claudia was almost trembling with excitement, everything she said, everything she did was grating. It all irritated you and you felt the need to dampen her spirits. A malicious little part of you wanted to bring her down a peg. Maybe it was her attitude at the Bridal store. Maybe it was just plain old mean-spirited jealousy. With the dinner almost up, with the bachelor party still to come you couldn’t help it.

It was like a compulsion. The words crawled up your throat and the possessive, angry part of you had to spit them out.

“Oh my God Francis, remember our pact?” Your face was a mask of innocence - just reminiscing with an old friend.

Frankie’s expression changed then, from the same tentative joy he’d been wearing all night to something forced and fake.

“Barely.” His eyes were boring into you, the intensity seemed to be demanding you to shut up about it. While everyone else was still relaxed and unaware of the land mine you’d stepped on, you saw the look Pope was giving you, he knew.

“What pact?” Claudia asked with a breezy laugh.

“It’s silly really-” Frankie cut you off.

“It’s nothing, just bullshit we talked about when we were kids.” He tried to smooth it over with her but she didn’t like that. She sensed his hesitation and when Pope tried to engage them in conversation she challenged him.

“If it’s nothing, then Spills can tell me.” It was said with a bitter sweetness, she had seen through his avoidance and she wasn’t interested.

“Well, when we were in our early twenties - Francis and I decided to make a marriage pact.” You were smiling as though it was nothing and Claudia laughed along with you but you heard the edge in it. She wasn’t amused, and neither was Frankie.

“See honey? It was dumb. Just something dumb kids do when they don’t know any better.” He pulled her close but you could see the stiffness in the way she held herself. You didn’t expect his words to hurt you like that, and all of a sudden you regretted bringing it up.

What seemed like a good way to rile Frankie up was just a cruel little jab at a relationship that you didn’t belong in. A relationship that would go on despite you; in spite of you. You got quiet after that and you saw that he couldn’t bear to look at you.

The battle in your mind was over, and acceptance had won.

You quietly excused yourself to grab some fresh air, the shame at your ploy to ruin Claudia's night sat in your gut and you felt horrible. This wasn’t how you were raised, despite your feelings about her or Francis it was cruel to do this to her on the night before her wedding.

Fuck, now he’ll leave with her for sure. What have I done?

“Hey - thought I’d find you out here. You okay?” Benny had come out looking for you and you smiled at him.

“I’m okay - just needed a minute away you know?” He sat beside you and you tried to focus on him. On his handsome face, how tall he was. If you’d met him a few years ago you would have been all over him.

“Yeah I get that.” He scooted closer to you, until your legs touched and smiled at you. “Look, I know you’re close to Fish, but I’d really like to take you out.” He blurted out the words and you couldn’t help but let out a surprised oh!

He was smiling and he took your hand in his, he was looking at you intently now, making his move.

He was closing in and for a moment you forgot about your shame, about everything except Benny’s mouth. The kiss was soft, tentative. He was testing the waters with you and it was nice. His hand came up and rested on your face softly. Feather light touches on your cheek with the very tips of his fingers.

Objectively speaking, it was a lovely kiss, but it did nothing for you and he felt it.

“I’m sorry.” You rested your forehead on his and he sighed, the air moving the hair framing your face slightly.

“Don’t be, it was worth a shot.” he smiled sadly and you kissed him on the cheek. You both had your answer. The door slammed, breaking you out of your moment with Benny and you saw the back of Francis’ head as he stalked back inside.

----

He wanted to get drunk. He wanted to punch Benny, he wanted to knock his teeth out. He wanted to walk out there, grab Spills by the back of the head and kiss her until she finally understood what she meant to him.

When they walked in together his guts twisted up with rage, it clawed its way up his throat and instead of lashing out he ordered three shots of liquor to burn it away. He drank them quickly, one after the other.

“You and me, outside. Now.” Pope was dragging him away and he wanted to fight but Claudia was asking him what was wrong and he didn’t have an answer for her. Not one she’d want to hear so he let Pope drag him outside. He could see Spills staring at him and he couldn’t look at her.

“What the fuck are you doing right now?” Pope spoke calmly, but his voice had an edge.

“Drinking. It’s my bachelor party, I’m supposed to get drunk aren’t I?” He was pacing, the rage making him restless.

“Why are you marrying Claudia?” Pope stared at him.

“What are you talking about?” The question stopped him in his tracks.

“Do you think that no one can see it? It’s painfully obvious that you’re nowhere near as in love with her as you should be. You’re hung up on Spills and she’s obviously hung up on you.” He was trying to speak calmly and Frankie was pissed off all over again.

“It doesn’t fucking matter how I feel about her - she’s out here with Benny and I’m getting married tomorrow.” He was spiraling.

How the fuck did I get here?

“She’s out here with Benny, because you’re supposed to be getting married tomorrow. If you want to continue with Claudia I’m not going to get in your way, but get your fucking shit together and control your emotions. Figure out what the fuck you want and remember that Benny isn’t your enemy.” He approached him and clapped his arms onto Frankies shoulders. “Fish, you have to figure out what you want here, make it work with Claudia or let her go - stop this living in between shit. It’s not fair to anyone.” Frankie shook out of his grip, too upset to see reason.

He knew he was wrong, he knew he had no right to react this way but it was too much for him. All the little moments he’d thought they’d shared - what had they meant?

What does it matter? You’re getting married, she isn’t.

He ignored her gaze when he approached their table, Claudia was approaching him.

“You okay babe?” She was approaching him with open arms and he embraced her. Eyes closed - trying to feel something other than anger. He focused on the smell of her hair, on the feeling of being buried into the crook of her neck. She sighed loudly and ran her fingers through his hair, soothing and smoothing it out. “It’s just pre-wedding jitters babe, tomorrow everything will be perfect and we’ll be married.” She was whispering into his ear and it was meant to be reassuring.

He felt nothing.

You’re not her. No matter what you do, you’ll never be her and I have to be okay with that.

“I’m okay babe - see you tomorrow.” He kissed her, really kissed her. Tried to muster up whatever he thought he felt for her before and she responded but it was useless. All he felt was anger; she pulled away smiling and said her goodbyes. He glanced at Spills and the look on her face made him feel ashamed.

“Let’s get fucked up.” He said it with a fake smile plastered on his face and everyone except Pope and Spills cheered.

---

His hostility was astounding. He barely looked at you the whole night and you had a feeling it had to do with Benny’s kiss. You had to talk to him about it, a part of you hoped he’d be jealous and realize that you belonged together but maybe that was all in your head. Maybe he didn’t like his friends dating you, or you dating them but that didn’t make sense. Why would that bother him?

You’re the one getting married to someone else here, you dick.

Will and Benny were keeping up with him but as the night wore on everyone came to the realization that tomorrow would be a very long day if they didn’t quit now but Frankie wanted to keep the party going. He wasn’t belligerent, but he was being more aggressive than you’d ever seen. He told the boys that he wanted to continue drinking when they all got back to his house and they agreed but when you all got there it was obvious that Benny and Will were down for the count.

“I’m going to get these two into bed, can you make sure he’s okay and that he doesn’t get too fucked up?” Pope was herding the brothers into the basement where they’d been staying. He gave you a curious look then, a narrowing of the eyes that screamed talk to him.

---

When you walked into his old bedroom he was sitting on his bed, bottle of alcohol to his lips and you’d had enough.

“Francis that’s enough, you’ve had too much and you’re going to be sick.” You were trying to take the bottle away from him but he was stronger than you and he was in a foul mood.

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to pull that shit and then baby me.” His tone was vicious and you pulled back.

“I’m not trying to baby you, you asshole- I'm trying to make sure you’re not hungover for your wedding tomorrow.” He scoffed loudly at your words. “You got something to say Francisco?” You were angry now, his attitude was pissing you off big time. Your question set him off and he unloaded onto you.

“Oh I got plenty to say.” He put the bottle down and towered over you. “You fucked up Spills, you knew how I felt about you this whole fucking time and YOU were the one who shut it down. Making this stupid pact so you would be guaranteed someone who was crazy about you while you went off and did whatever and whoever you wanted and then bring it up in front of everyone like it was a joke.” The anger was burning away the alcohol in his system and there was nothing but raw honesty left. “And now what, you’re going to date my friend? So is it anyone who shows you attention except me?”

The expression on his face was angry, but there was a raw hurt in his voice. An old wound that he was blaming you for opening up.

“I have loved you since I was fucking fourteen, and you never gave a shit. You used me and you kept me dangling on a string but guess what, I am not a last resort. I have found a woman who loves me and you’re going to have to live with that.” The words were knives to your heart because for the most part they were true.

You couldn’t stop the tears at his onslaught of painful truths but underneath the hurt his words caused, you were fucking angry.

“You want to tear into me because I’ve been a fucking idiot fine, have at it, but you do not get to shame me for having a moment with someone who likes me. You’re getting married! Am I supposed to stay celibate and alone for the rest of my life because you gave up on me? I was waiting at the airport to tell you that I love you. That I know I’ve wasted time and that I want you.”

“Gave up on you? Are you fucking kidding me right now? So when I call to see how everyone is doing and I find out that you’re seeing someone - I'm supposed to just know that you’ll figure it out? I have been putting off finding someone in hopes that you’ll finally see how devoted I’ve always been to you. I am so fucking pissed off at you and you want to know what the worst part of it is? The fact that I still fucking love you. Even though I’m hurt and so goddamn angry. Even though I have her and I know she’s head over heels for me, you’re the one in my head. I still love you and seeing you like this is breaking my fucking heart Spills. It should be you I’m marrying tomorrow. It should have always been you.” You could see the tears in his eyes now and that hurt even more.

Every single fibre of your being screamed at you to run to him, to wrap your arms around him. Instead you responded with your own truth.

“I wish it was me tomorrow. I know I couldn’t expect you to wait for me forever but I don’t want anyone else. Benny is sweet but he’s not you Francis.” You were well and truly crying now. Everything you’d been holding in came bubbling up, spilling out of you and there was nothing you could do to stop it, it had to come out.

“I should have kissed you back like I wanted to. I shouldn’t have been afraid, I should have seen it and dealt with my own feelings for you. I’m sorry Francis. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize how perfect we are for each other. I’m sorry I was too late and I’m terrified that you’ll leave me behind and marry her, and that I’ll be here waiting for you forever.” Your voice was cracking and high, barely a whisper at certain points with how hard you were crying.

His legs brought themselves to you in three long strides and then his mouth was on yours. Your tears mixing where your faces touched; pure adrenaline coursing through your veins when his hands buried themselves into your hair. It was nothing compared to the inexperienced albeit enthusiastic kiss you’d shared as teenagers. This was all-consuming. His mouth trapping your bottom lip roughly and biting softly to draw out a whimper. His tongue using the sound as the invitation to plunder the inside of your mouth.

He tasted like honey and alcohol, like the gum he chewed and tiramisu. He tasted like all the things you loved in this world and you never wanted him to stop kissing you.

He trailed his kisses down to the line of your jaw, the long column of your neck and up to the place beneath your ear and all you could do was frantically clutch at his hair.

“We’ve been so stupid Spills, driving me crazy.” He was whispering the words into your neck, his hands a vice grip around your waist.

“I’m sorry Francis, I love you - I love you so much.” The both of you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, fervent breathes as you kissed; both trying to make up for lost time. His wedding in a few hours was forgotten, his fiancé didn’t exist. It was just the two of you in his old bedroom where his first kiss had been denied.

You were rewriting that now.

His hands lowered and grabbed at the flesh of your ass roughly and you moaned into his mouth. He brought his kisses to your neck as he decisively pulled your dress up.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for half my life Spills, it was you I thought about while I was away. I would fuck my fist every single fucking night thinking about you letting me taste your pussy.” His eyes were dark with want and you gasped at his words, the alcohol and the honesty making him braver; the words were shooting directly into your cunt, making you weep for him.

“It’s always been you, look at what you do to me, what you’ve always fucking done to me.” He grabbed at your hand roughly and pressed into the sizeable bulge at his crotch. It was hard to form words. It was hard to articulate how you felt now that this was finally happening.

“Will you let me baby? Will you let me bury my tongue in your cunt? I want you to cum all over my face.” He was rubbing at your clit through your panties and it was like you were suspended in amber. Dumbstruck at his words, his confidence - his need for you.

“Yes Francisco, please.” You were gripping his hair frantically as he pushed you onto his bed. His big strong hands pulling your underwear down and tossing it over his shoulder. The same hands pulling your thighs apart to find your slick seeping out of you, all glossy and wet. He moaned at the sight.

“Look at that- so fucking pretty for me.” He made himself comfortable between your legs, grinding into the mattress as he studied your body. He kissed your thighs as he brought his face closer and closer to your clenching core. His facial hair tickling you as he trailed them up up up. You watched him propped up on your elbows, your hands automatically reaching out to run through his hair.

“Bet you taste so fucking good, like peaches.” He ran his finger along your seam, smearing your slick all over your lower lips. He was going too slow. You tried to move your cunt closer to his face but he smiled almost cruelly and held your hips down.

“My greedy girl.” He spread your lips apart and spit into your clit, you felt it sliding down towards your opening but he dove in cat-quick to lap it up before it went further.

His tongue was heaven. You threw your head back as he licked from your opening up towards your clit, over and over. “Eyes on me, I want you to watch me.” It was too much and you whimpered as he let the saliva drip from his mouth and into your clit. Focusing his tongue there, moving it up and down over and over and over. The wet glide of it too much and the string holding your sanity together was too tight, it would surely snap and let you float away soon.

He groaned onto your skin, his eyes steady on you as he slid two thick fingers inside you. Curling them in a way that had you tensing up. He could feel your thighs clenching as he scissored them inside you, stretching you open while his tongue pushed you over the edge. It was too much and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and gave it a long steady suck, you shattered.

He held you down and licked you through it. Lapping up the waves of arousal, drinking you down deep while his fingers pistoned in and out of you with a wet squelch.

You had to push him away.

“You taste so good honey, I wanna eat you for days, until you’re a wet little puddle in my bed.” He crawled up towards your limp body and kissed you roughly, his facial hair irritating your skin but it didn’t matter. Not when you could taste yourself in his mouth, not when he’d made you cum harder than anyone had any right to.

His hands were a blur as he tried to get his jeans down and you helped him. You could see your slick on his fingers, then his jeans and your hip where he held onto you. A little trail of you wherever he touched.

You frantically pulled both his jeans and his boxers down, his cock freed and bobbing between your thighs. You could see the sticky tip of him, angry and red with how hard he was and your mouth watered. You had to taste.

He was surprised when you flipped him over, the startled look on his face quickly replaced with a hungry smile. You took off his jeans and his boxes fully to lay between his legs. You rested your head on the strong muscle of his thigh as you lazily stroked him, the velvety skin of his cock encasing the iron beneath. He watched you with a look of rapture and his breath hitched when you pulled away to scoop some of your own slick from between your legs to make your strokes more fluid.

“You can’t possibly know how many times I’ve imagined this - fuck - give me your mouth baby, please.” He was thrusting up into your hand. You licked a wide stripe from the base of his dick up to the tip, circling it with your tongue. He groaned at the sight of you and he grabbed at the hair at the base of your skull to guide your movements.

You took the tip into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks prettily while he watched you, taking a bit more each time you lowered your head. You were ravenous for him, the soft sounds he was making, the control you had at this moment was intoxicating and it pushed you to take him further.

You took him as far as you could, swallowing around him as your nose brushed up against his curls and the tears leaked out when you let go to take a breath.

“Holy fuck baby, yes - look so fucking hot with my dick in your throat. Let me see you do it again.” He guided you down and you held there as long as you could before you sputtered and coughed, spit and his precum connecting your mouth to his cock.

“Fuck baby - so fucking good, if you do it again I’ll cum…” he left it up to you, taking his hand away from your hair and as tempted as you were to watch him come apart in your mouth your cunt was achingly empty and you needed him inside you.

“Next time you can cum in my mouth or on my face, wherever you want, right now I need you to fuck me.” You crawled up and he kissed you, he was frantic and he licked the spit off your lips and it was so primal you moaned. You found yourself on your back again and he was holding your thighs open while he rubbed his length through your folds.

“I’m going to cum inside you. I’m going to pump you full of me, fuck it into you. I wanna see it dripping out of you when I’m done.” He was lining himself up and when he slid in all the way, everything was right in the world. This was how it was supposed to be, the thick stretch of him was perfect, you were so fucking full - your cunt, your heart - every part of you.

“God baby, you’re so tight and wet - feels so fucking good.” He was speaking into your mouth and all you could do was wrap your arms and legs around him. Incoherent whimpers and sounds spilling out of your mouth with his movements. Sweat was beading on his brow, his fingers traced your hairline almost tenderly. His movements are equal parts filthy and loving.

His thrusts were hard and fast, not being able to control himself. You heard the wet, obscene sound of them and it made you wetter. You raised your legs higher, bracketing his ribs while he snapped his hips.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, love you - let me love you.” His words were curt and he wasn’t going to last long so you yanked the straps of your dress down. He leaned onto one arm, reaching down to rub perfect circles onto your clit while he took your nipple into his mouth. Your orgasm crashed into you out of nowhere and he groaned when he felt you clenching.

He brought his hand back up to grab at your hip roughly for more leverage while he fucked into you two, three - four more times before he was spilling into you.

He made good on his promise. He fucked his cum into you. A couple more shallow thrusts even though he was too sensitive and he watched himself do it.

“Look so fucking pretty like that, all puffy and full of my cum.” He watched as it slid out of you and down your ass onto the bedding.

Is this what I’ve been missing out on? Francisco Morales; sex god.

You were too blissed out to move but he went to work, taking off the rest of his clothes and then stripping you of yours. It was difficult to articulate how you felt in that moment, on the one hand this was everything you had wanted. The sex had been amazing, he didn’t just fill your body - he filled every single ounce of you. Your heart swelled when he tucked you into his side and covered the two of you with his blanket.

On the other hand, the postcoital bliss was wearing off and the implications of what had transpired was a weight growing in the pit of your stomach.

Your body and heart wanted to soar; a kite flying higher and higher. Your conscience was the string, and it was being shortened fast. He loved you, he still loved you even though he was engaged and he’d been thinking of you the whole time. You wanted to cry with happiness; with guilt as well.

The guilt was present, reminding you consistently that this man was supposed to be getting a good night’s rest for his wedding tomorrow. Instead the two of you were laying in bed, curled around each other. His spend slowly seeping out of you.

It was hard to focus on it though, especially when his skin was so warm under your cheek. When his hand rubbed at your arm and your legs were a tangle underneath the blanket. You couldn’t help but reach up and run your fingers through the hair matted on his forehead and he made it even harder when he captured the same hand and pressed kisses to your fingers. He broke the silence before you could though.

“I’m still pissed off at you.” He had a dreamy look on his face despite his words.

“I know. I’m pissed off at me too.” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. The scent of his body-wash mixing with his own sweat. You couldn’t get enough and he curled himself into you as you ran your fingers through his hair. Your hands are constantly moving, touching every bit of each other you could.

“We’ve wasted so much fucking time Spills.” There was a deep sadness in his voice, it sliced into you because you knew he was right.

“I know Francis, I’m sorry it took me so long.” You were scratching at the wiry hairs on his cheek, trying to map out the face you loved so much. He sighed loudly. “What's going to happen tomorrow?”

“I don’t know - part of me thinks I should pack up the truck, throw you in the back and drive away. Another part of me wants to forget this whole thing happened and follow through on the commitment I made.” He wasn’t holding back with his words or feelings and although they hurt you couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do. You kept quiet, at the end of the day the decision was his. “I have to tell her the truth. I have to tell her that we did this, I cannot show up there tomorrow and pretend like I didn’t.”

You could see the guilt on his face now, the implications dawning on him a little later than they had for you. He scrubbed at his face with his hand and groaned.

“How can I just break her heart like this?” He was spiralling. “She doesn’t deserve this.” You felt like an intruder then, suddenly the closeness wasn’t there, he was pulling away from you emotionally if not yet physically.

“What do you want to do Francisco?” The use of his full name snapped him out of his train of thought and he looked at you then.

“What do you mean?” He looked at you in confusion, as you pulled away from him reluctantly.

“I know it took me way too long to get to this point, and you have every fucking right to hate me. If you tell me now that you want to make it work with her I’ll support your decision. I’ll keep my mouth shut and we can pretend this never happened. I would do that for you because I love you, and I will no matter what. You tell me what you want to do.” The tears were coming down your face as you said the words and as much as it hurt to get them out you meant them.

You couldn’t stay here - you wanted him to make his choice without influence and he said nothing as you quickly dressed and walked out of his room, instead you lay on the couch in the living room, crying softly to yourself. Sleep was nowhere in sight and in a few hours, you’d know for sure what would happen.

----

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

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Twisted 7 - Enemies with Disregard [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, smoking, drinking.

Summary: Ice meets fire.

Being heartbroken over a genius whom you weren’t even dating to begin with was not something you saw coming, but here you were.

Lying in bed, eating chocolate and trying your hardest to focus on the show playing on the huge TV.

“That’s a beautiful wedding dress, fuck what your aunt says!” you shouted at the screen, chewing on the caramel chocolate but then looked up when you heard the front door open.

“Hello? Anyone home?”

You groaned and turned your head to see your sister walk into your living room before she leaned on her hip.

“Oh great, you’re still where I left you.”

“I gave one person a key,” you pointed at her, “One. I don’t know if it was mom or you or your wife, but when I remember who it was, that person will be in trouble.”

“It was mom and we had copies made for times like these.”

You made a face and slid a little on the couch, “You should just leave me with my misery.”

“Are you seriously still sulking over that Reid guy?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She heaved a sigh and plopped down next to you, “The guy you liked suspected that you were a killer. So what? It could happen to anyone.”

You shot her a look, “Mina I’m pretty sure it doesn’t just happen to anyone,” you said, “In fact, I’m one hundred percent sure I’m the only person in the entire world who has had this problem.”

“It’s the 21st century,” she reminded you, “There’s some surreal shit happening every day, I’m willing to bet it happened to someone before.”

You popped a piece of chocolate into your mouth “Yeah well. It doesn’t matter.”

“Did he call you?”

“Yeah.” You tossed her the phone and she checked the screen.

“You’re not going to call back?”

You scoffed, “I’m busy.”

“Watching reality TV doesn’t count as being busy,” she said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“The charity ball is tonight, I’ll be busy towards the evening.”

“Oh right, I forgot about that.” Mina mused, “I mean…. At least you can get your mind off him tonight then. There’ll be so many insufferable people in there, you’ll fit right in.”

You were way too bummed out to retort to that.

“Um- about that,” you murmured, “There’s a huge chance that he will show up there.”

Mina blinked a couple of times, “I beg your pardon?”

“Apparently it would be a good place to see if the killer showed up, since they’re obsessed with dad’s life, so Spencer and his team might show up.”

She reached for the chocolate box in your lap and grabbed a piece,

“You must’ve fucked up in your previous life or something to piss off the universe like this,” she commented, “That being said, you’re overreacting.”

“I’m overreacting?” you exclaimed, sitting up straighter, “He implied—”

“There’s a copycat killer out there who looks up to dad, copying his life, dad was raising you to follow his footsteps and he wanted to talk to you after that first kill. You would’ve thought the same, and that’s not even your job.”

“I just wish…” you trailed off, “I just wish someone would actually have a good opinion of me, you know? I know it’s stupid to want that, but I guess I hoped Spencer would think that about me.”

“Hey,” she kicked at your feet, “I have that good opinion of you. Not just me, my wife adores you and my kid thinks you hung the moon. Who the fuck cares what anyone else thinks?”

That somehow made you smile and you nodded slowly, turning your gaze to her.

“Damn right,” you said, “Who the fuck cares what anyone else thinks?”

***

It took you almost three hours to get ready, but after three hours, you were finally happy with the way you looked. You walked through the entrance of the ballroom, fixing your bracelet, the chatter of people talking to each other, the lovely smell and soothing music greeting you.

Maybe it wouldn’t be as terrible as you thought it would be.

After all, it was for a good cause, so you could definitely bear it for a couple of hours

“Oh here you are!” your mother approached you, a smile warming her face, “You look gorgeous in red! I have to be honest with you, for a moment I thought you wouldn’t show up.”

“The thought did cross my mind,” you grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray one of the waiters was holding, “Thanks.”

“Mina mentioned you were having some romantic problems?”

“What?” you let out a snort as she linked her arm through yours, walking beside you, “I don’t have any problems and there’s no…romance.”

“Yet, but the night is still young.”

“Mom,” you whined, “Please don’t tell me you’re trying to set me up with someone in here.”

“I’m not!” she said, “I just think you could meet some people, that’s all. And if you happen to meet anyone and fall in love, decide to get married and have cute little babies—”

“Mom.”

“Tonight would be a lucky beginning!” she waved her hand, “That’s all.”

“That’s all? Oh good thing it’s not much.” You deadpanned, “Anyone ever told you that you have high expectations?”

“Multiple people on multiple occasions, they turned out to be wrong in the end,” she pointed out but before she could say anything else, a middle aged woman with a very high updo stopped you.

“Y/N honey!” she blew a kiss in the air so as not to ruin your or her makeup, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you in a place like this.”

“Hi Sarah,” you smiled at her, “I’ve just been so busy. And I know I can’t look as good as this lady over here,” you pointed at your mom with your thumb, making her chuckle, “So I figured I shouldn’t even try.”

“How sweet!” Sarah clasped her hands together, “Now that I got you here, Tracy wanted to hire you for her wedding and I promised her I would ask.”

“Ah unfortunately my client list is full,” you hissed in a breath, “So sorry about that, but I can recommend an amazing colleague of mine, I’ll tell my assistant to mail her.”

“That’s great!” she said, “This whole wedding business is insane, she’s under so much pressure— oh there she is, excuse me.”

“Congratulations for the wedding,” you called out as she walked away and your mother raised her brows.

“Your client list is full?”

“Not really,” you said, “But Tracy said my hair looked terrible and pushed me into the pool when we were ten, I’m not helping that bitch with her wedding.”

“She really is insufferable,” your mother whispered, “Like mother like daughter, and I just think—” she stopped talking when her eyes stopped on someone in the crowd and you turned your head to see what she was looking at.

More like who she was looking at.

The older man had to be around your mother’s age, maybe only a couple of years older, but he could definitely pull off the suit and the grays in his carefully styled hair. He looked like he was having fun, telling something to the people around him who looked like they were hanging onto every word he said, but when he caught your mother’s glances out of the corner of his eye, he smiled at her, raising his glass a little.

You could’ve sworn you heard a small giggle coming from your mother and you tried to look not as amused as you felt.

“Well, go on then,” you said, nudging her and she looked at you, suddenly embarrassed.

“Oh sweetheart, no way.”

“Why not? I don’t see a wedding ring.”

“He was widowed ten years ago,” she said and you pulled your brows together.

“And you know that how?”

“Well you inherited those party planning talents from me darling, I know everything about everyone here.”

You clicked your tongue, “Well, okay then. My condolences, go get him tiger.”

“Y/N!”

“What?” you let out a laugh, “Mom, I work with couples, okay? It’s like Hunger Games out there. Besides, what was it you told me? If you happen to fall in love, get married and have cute little babies—“

“Babies?!”

“Dogs, mom. I mean dogs.” You heaved a sigh, “So I’m going to walk away to give the silver fox over there enough space to make his move.”

“He really does look good, doesn’t he?” your mother mused but then shook her head, “What am I saying?”

You tried to stop yourself from laughing, then stepped back, “Go. It’s about time Mina stopped being the only member of this family who’s lucky in love.”

“But sweetheart, you are lucky.”

A bitter smile pulled at your lips and you scrunched up your nose.

“Nah,” you said, “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“I’m not letting you go away before you tell me what happened with that agent. Spencer Reid, right?”

You lowered your glances to the champagne glass in your hand. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing really,” you shrugged your shoulders, “It’s just…life. He works in the FBI, even if he did have feelings for me and that’s a big if, there would always be that doubt, you know? About how much influence dad has over me. He’s always going to have that suspicion at the back of his mind.”

“Is he going to have that suspicion or are you?” she asked, making your eyes snap up to hers and she heaved a sigh.

“I’m your mother, and you’re not as secretive as you’d like to think sweetheart,” she said, “There’s not a bone in your body that’s capable of doing what your father has done to all those poor people, Y/N. Trust me.”

You swallowed thickly and cleared your throat.

“We can talk about it after you flirt with that silver fox who’s looking at you as we speak,” you said as you downed your champagne, “You know what they said about the killer potentially being here so stay here in the crowd.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere with him, people would talk!”

“Oh yeah, scandal,” you wiggled your brows, “Be careful, you crazy kids.”

With that, you walked away from her, desperate for a cigarette. You had been here before, and there had to be a balcony somewhere-

Bingo.

Maybe Spencer wouldn’t even show up. That wouldn’t be so surprising after all, FBI had a bunch of other agents, so maybe there were already some undercover agents in here and you didn’t know it yet.

Even if he did show up, you were sure you wouldn’t talk to each other since he would be busy trying to find the copycat and you had been avoiding his calls and texts. The small voice at the back of your mind scolded you, and you wondered for a moment whether Mina was right, whether you were overreacting but before you could reach the balcony, you were stopped by someone and you snapped out of your thoughts.

“Hi,” the guy said, “Y/N?”

You blinked up at him, trying to focus. He looked strangely familiar with dark hair and light blue eyes, and his smile reminded you of something you couldn’t put your finger on. His suit was expensive and just by his posture you could tell you were from the same circle.

All of you were taught the same thing after all. Chin up, back straight.

“Oh God, let me guess,” you said with a sigh, “My mom sent you.”

He pulled his brows together in confusion, “Uh, no she didn’t?”

“Listen buddy, no offense because you look really good but I’m going through some really weird shit right now so these are not the droids you’re looking for—”

“I’m Lincoln,” he cut you off, “We used to be neighbors when we were kids?” he tilted his head, “I uh… we used to play house in your treehouse?”

Your eyes widened as soon as it dawned on you.

“Linc?” your jaw dropped, “Oh my God hi!”

“Yeah, hi,” he grinned at you, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“The last I heard you were in….?”

“Italy,” he said, “I was dealing with my father’s business there but I came back a couple of months ago. How about you? I could swear my mom said you have an event planning business now?”

“Yeah my company deals with events but I specialize in wedding planning,” you said, “Wow. It’s been years huh?”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, “It’s great to see you. I- I don’t know if it’s appropriate to say but I’m sorry about your dad.”

You forced yourself to smile and grabbed another glass of champagne. “Oh. Thanks.”

“You know, I wanted to reach out but we were both kids, and then afterwards it just felt strange,” he said as you dragged your gaze from him to the room, but as soon as your eyes landed on the figure by the entrance, the rest of Lincoln’s sentence became drowned out in the buzzing in your ears.

God damn it, you were right about the black suit looking good on him.

Spencer looked oblivious to the rest of the crowd just like you were, his gaze focused on you. You saw him swallow thickly, as if the mere sight of you was enough to make him freeze while his teammates spread out in the huge ballroom and you let out a breath, trying your hardest to ignore how fast your heart was beating.

“You okay?” Lincoln’s voice carried through the fog in your mind and your head snapped up.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, “I am. Uh…Linc, it was really nice to see you but I need some fresh air. Let’s catch up sometime, okay?”

Without even waiting for his answer, you made your way to the balcony, pulled open the huge glass door and stepped outside, letting the cool air hit your face. You inhaled deeply, then grabbed your cigarettes from your purse, put one between your lips and lit it. The first drag managed to calm you down just a little as you closed your eyes, exhaling the smoke.

It made no sense that you were this affected by some dude’s presence.

You heard the door open behind you but you didn’t even need to turn your head to see who it was. Your body responded way before you did, your shoulders rolled back and you straightened your back, fixing your eyes in the darkness.

“Did you know that in the United States alone, cigarette smoking causes 80 to 90% of lung cancer deaths?”

You raised your brows, still refusing to turn your head.

“Yeah? Do you have any percentages for killers who smoke as well?” you asked, putting your glass of champagne on the marble railing pillars and you heard footsteps behind you coming closer. You stole a look at him as he leaned back to the pillars, taking out his earpiece.

“Can we talk?”

“It’s a free country Dr. Reid, no one’s stopping you.”

He pulled his brows together, “You never call me that.”

“Well I should,” you said, “I think we can both agree that it’s better to keep it professional.”

“Is that what you want?”

A bitter laugh escaped from your lips, “Fuck what I want,” you murmured to yourself, taking a drag of the cigarette and he cleared his throat.

“I didn’t mean it to sound like that,” he said, “It’s not that I suspect you. It’s just that the profile would fit—” he paused, “It was before we met. It’s not what I think of you now.”

You tried to swallow the lump growing bigger and bigger in your throat.

“What do I care what you think of me?”

This right there, this was the exact reason why every relationship of yours ended. Mina had called it the shock effect, it was either too warm or too cold with you, in terms of affection. Much like the rest of you, your anger either burned everything on its path or froze everything.

You knew it was wrong, and yet, you couldn’t stop yourself once that ice made its way through your veins.

But unlike everyone else who had witnessed it before, Spencer was a profiler and he could see right through that.

“You don’t?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I can’t worry about what people think of me, really. I wouldn’t be able to pull through what happened if I had.”

“But if what I said hurt you—”

“Hurt me?” you repeated, interrupting him and locked your eyes with him, “You don’t know me, Reid. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

He stayed silent, his hazel eyes looking into your soul but you dragged your gaze away from him and exhaled the smoke into the chilly night.

“You think, what— you think just because we’ve had couple of drinks together along with some flirting you discovered some hidden part of me? Honestly, what you know about me is about the same amount of information that any one night stand with enough skills to use Google would know about me.” You took a sip of the champagne and scoffed a laugh, “But hey, before I forget. Sorry if what I said hurt you.”

“Are you done?”

That was enough to make you turn your head, the question taking you by surprise,

“What?”

“Are you done?” he repeated, for some reason the look in his eyes made you feel like you were falling off a cliff, “If someone’s going to get hurt it’s not going to be you, and you can attack back just fine, are you done proving that? Or should I wait a little longer?”

You clenched your teeth, “You think this is me attacking back?”

“I think this is the only way you know how to protect yourself when you’re hurt.”

A painful smile pulled at your lips and you took a drag of the cigarette,

“You know, after my father was caught and imprisoned,” you said slowly, “After that summer, I had to go back to school. My mom was pretty worried but she let me go anyway but this whole social circle is so small, so every kid’s parent in my school knew about what happened, and they apparently talked about it around my classmates back then. Because on my first day, some of my friends ambushed me in the girls bathroom and in all that chaos, one of them tripped me so I fell and slammed my head to the sink. I had to get stitches, I thought mom would lose it.” You shrugged your shoulders, “I’ve learned that people would blame me for whatever shit dad decided to do when I was a kid, Spencer. You’d have to try a little harder if you wanted to hurt me, because right now you’re just being a cliché.”

You took a step to walk past him but he stopped you, his grip around your arm firm but soft at the same time, as if he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t cause any discomfort even though the light in his eyes was intense enough to wake goosebumps on your arms.

He knew how to keep it under control just like you.

“It’s not—“ he started but both of you snapped out of it when the balcony door opened.

“Reid, where the hell is your earpiece?” Luke asked through his teeth as Spencer pulled his hand back and you tried to ignore the warm tingles spreading under your skin, “We found a body upstairs.”

Your stomach dropped, “What?”

“Same signature, come on,” Luke said and you and Spencer followed him out of the balcony. The crowd was buzzing already and your mother made her way to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah I was just smoking outside.” You answered quickly and looked up at Spencer when you heard him saying your name.

“Stay here in the crowd,” he said as he put his earpiece back and you nodded.

“Hey,” you stopped him before he could take a step, “Be- be careful, okay?”

A small smile ghosted over his lips before he made his way out of the crowd with Luke and you massaged your temples before pulling yourself a chair. Your mother pressed a hand over her chest and sat down next to you, watching the people whispering with scared expressions on their faces.

It took her two minutes to pull herself together and she cleared her throat.

“Is that him?”

You gawked at her for a couple of seconds, your mouth agape.

“Mom, there’s a dead body upstairs,” you reminded her, “Read the room.”

She shook her head, “Of course, it’s the shock talking.” she said, stealing a look at you, “Sorry. It’s such a tragedy.”

“It is.”

“….But seriously, is that him?”

You groaned and closed your eyes, throwing your head back and slipping a little in your seat.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 8

***

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lastbluetardis · 3 years

Text

Sacred New Beginnings (1/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU, @doctorroseprompts

This Chapter: Teen, ~5500 words

Note: Er... surprise? This idea has been in my head for months but my brain took it and ran with it this weekend. I plotted the whole thing and am gonna try to update every weekend. I don’t anticipate this being more than like... 7-10 chapter? I’d love to keep it under 5 chapters but that might be trimming things down too much for my liking. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this little story!

AO3

Flashing lights and shrieks of his name greet James the moment the back door to his armored car is opened. His head of security ducks out first and James can only see a mass of feet and legs but it’s more than enough to let him know it’s a heavier than usual crowd. Not surprising, considering the news of his latest break-up just dropped while he’d been flying back from a visit to America.

He slides out of the car, helped by hands that pull him as much as guide him through the throng. He ignores the shouts of his name—telling him to look left or right or up or down or every combination therein—and the barrage of questions and jokes that aren’t funny.

Was it you or him that ended it?

Three weeks, is that a new personal record?

Another notch in the bedpost, eh James?

Got another beau lined up yet?

If you’re looking for candidates, what do we have to do to get our names in the running?

“Ignore them,” he mutters to himself, too quietly for anyone except his security team to hear.

In answer, one of them gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they reach his front door. Someone has already unlocked it for him and the darkness within is a blessing he’s all too willing to be shoved into. The cacophony muffles once the door shuts, and finally he’s alone, a rarity for him. If it’s not his security, it’s personal assistants and writers and producers and photographers and the paparazzi.

Or his lover of the month, as the papers have taken to calling his partners.

But nope, his home is empty and quiet and bloody freezing. A shiver ripples up his spine as he treads to the thermostat controller. Summer finally released its hold on London, and the muggy heat has been replaced with a damp chill that burrows down into his bones.

Several button-presses later, James hears the familiar clank of the radiator and he can smell the heating kick on. It’ll take a while for his house to warm up, so James keeps his peacoat on for the time being as he putters around his home, checking the fridge and the cabinets. As always, they’re well-stocked. He hasn’t had to do anything as mundane as grocery shopping in the five years since his YouTube channel full of acoustic covers of popular songs went viral and landed him a lucrative deal with a prestigious record label. Only in his wildest dreams had he expected to find fame and fortune in the hobby he loved so much—for it to have actually happened still took him by surprise, as though any minute he’d be told “it was fun while it lasted, but it’s time for you to leave wonderland now.”

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he goes to the antique dining table that can easily seat ten people, which is great for holidays or in-home meetings, but just plain depressing every other day of the year. A stack of mail has piled up, and he spends the next five minutes attempting to sort it before giving up and telling himself he’ll look at it in the morning, once he’s not quite as groggy—transatlantic flights always take it out of him.

Instead, he rootles around his fridge until he comes up with the necessary items to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. With the prospect of food in front of him, James realizes he is starving. He shoves a whole slice of ham in his mouth while he assembles his pitiful meal, heaping on lettuce and sliced tomatoes as though that’s enough to negate the pile processed protein and greasy chips he layers in for crunch.

It’s tastier than any sandwich as a right to be, and he nearly makes himself a second one before catches sight of his phone screen and the slew of incoming notifications. His work is never finished, is it?

There are several texts from his publicist, Donna, welcoming him home and congratulating him on not making an arse of himself just by trying to walk up the front drive of his home. (To be fair, he felt entitled to channel his inner crotchety old man and tell reporters to get off his damn lawn if they encroached on his personal property.)

“Though some photos are surfacing of your trip to New York… Anything you need me to get ahead of?”

He rubs his fingers into his eyes, knowing she’s probably referring to his last night out in the city, where he went bar hopping until the wee hours of the morning to try to forget the text his subsequently-ex-boyfriend had sent him.

Thanks for everything, but I need to focus on my career. Cheers mate.

The career that James had kickstarted for him by introducing his rising actor boyfriend to several of his friends in the film industry, because James had been so damn desperate for affection that he’d once again let the wool get pulled in front of his eyes.

And so James had reached out to mates who lived in New York and they’d all gone out and acted half their age and had a wonderful time once James forgot about why he’d gone out in the first place.

But none of that now. Nope. No sir.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he replies. “Let me know if you catch wind of anything.”

Despite the fact that he only just got home and he’s jetlagged and still feeling the effects of his night out in New York, James can’t stay in his house right now. It’s so quiet that his brain is creating its own white noise. He can’t stand being in his head on a good day, and today is not a good day.

He grabs his keys and wallet and makes for the back of the house. His property is landlocked with the back gardens of other houses; the paps have learned the hard way that James is dead serious about protecting his neighbors’ privacy and will not hesitate to phone the police to arrest and sue anyone caught trespassing on private property to snag a photo of him. James hosts dinner for his neighbors several times a year and buys them gifts any chance he can to show his appreciation for their patience and tolerance.

In the dead of night, he slips out into his back garden, the crisp October air burning his lungs in the best way as he ducks his way through the neighborhood, his feet taking him far away from the crowd of reporters that are still stationed in front of his own home. Hopefully they’ll all have dispersed by the time he gets back. Perhaps he should have turned on music or a movie or something, made them think he was settled in for a lazy night in.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, enjoying this taste of freedom and trying to remember the days when he could leave out the front door of his flat without any fanfare.

It’s dark, and thick clouds obscure whichever moon phase they’re in, but the street lamps glow yellow on the damp pavement, lighting his way forward. A crisp autumn breeze ruffles his hair and the leaves, sending them tumbling around him and skittering across the residential street that’s so much quieter than the bustle of New York. It’s good to be home, though.

He arrives at a bus stop and catches one headed into the city proper. It’s no secret that James lives in London, and therefore the general population has gotten used to glimpsing him on the tube or walking on the street or frequenting pubs. He knows people snap quick photos of him, and he’s always happy to stop and pose for a selfie with respectful fans, but mostly he’s left alone when he’s out by himself like this.

Nevertheless, he hears the excited undertones of people trying to inconspicuously point him out to their oblivious friends. He keeps his head down, mindlessly opening and closing apps on his phone for something to do as he pretends he doesn’t notice them. He won’t be on the bus much longer anyway.

Several people get off the bus with him, including a group of teenage girls who are whispering heatedly among themselves. It’s almost funny, watching them debate amongst themselves before one of them approaches him.

She’s red-faced but determined as she blurts, “Can we get a photo?”

“Sure thing,” he says good-naturedly, inclining his head for them to come closer. “Need me to take it?” He holds out a lanky arm and flops it around a bit. “Got a longer reach than any of you.”

He’s certain one of the girls is about to start crying with joy as they all nestle into his side and hand him a new-model iPhone. Damn, it’s fancier than his own. When he was their age, he had an old flip phone that lost reception if he breathed on it wrong. It was a tank though—he’d dropped that thing hundreds of times, and nary a scratch.

“Do me a favor,” he says, handing the phone back to its owner, “and don’t ping our location if you post to social media, yeah? I appreciate it.”

“You’re my favorite person ever,” one of the girls squeaks.

His face splits into a grin and he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Is that so?”

The girls spend the next five minutes chatting with him about music and how they’ve been following him ever since his YouTube days. He listens and chimes in every now and then when they ask him a direct question, but he prefers being passive in exchanges like this, content to hear peoples’ stories. It makes him feel normal, if only for a little while.

Finally, they take their leave, and James turns in the opposite direction even though the destination he had in mind is down the street the girls had just taken. But he’s been burned far too many times by encounters with seemingly innocent fans, only for them to begin following him around and showing up outside his house to talk to him again. He makes a point of not drawing out public encounters with his fans.

He wanders down a street he’s vaguely familiar with, figuring he can backtrack in a couple blocks. The night is too beautiful for him to be upset about needing to take a detour.

Everything looks different in the dark, the glow of neon signs bathing everything in hues of greens and blues and pinks and yellows. Shops and restaurants are mostly shut up for the night, their windows dark or blinds drawn. Dingey motels with pay-by-the-hour rates are in full swing, as are the pubs that have a revolving door of people in varying states of intoxication.

Deep bass that he can feel all the way in his chest catches his attention, and he gets turned around a few times, but he eventually finds the establishment: Bad Wolf Brews. At first, he doesn’t think it’s open, and that he must be mistaken about where the music is coming from, but the heavy front oak door opens, and he realizes the glass on the door is tempered so that the interior lights don’t shine through. The music is clear and heavy and vibrating in his bones. He doesn’t think twice before catching the door before it closes and slipping inside.

The air is humid and smells of sweat and stale beer. Bodies are writhing and gyrating to the rhythm blasting through invisible speakers. The acoustics are phenomenal; none of the layers are lost and the sound quality is nearly as good as if he were listening to the record at home on his own stereo system.

The lights are low, and he’s sure he trips into a few people in the minute it takes for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but finally, he’s at the bar. There are three open stools, and he claims one between a blonde woman and a red-haired man as he wonders what the hell this dive bar serves. He can see beer taps, but he’s more of a cocktail guy. He must look as lost as he feels, because the bartender hands him a menu that looks like it was hand-written and then photo-copied. It jives with the overall vibe of the pub.

The bartender checks in with him a minute later. James opens a tab and orders a sidecar sans sugar, and is pleasantly surprised by the quality. Not to make assumptions, but he’d figured an establishment such as this would have cheap liquor. If the alcohol in his drink is cheap, it’s well masked.

When he’s drained the last drop and about to signal for another, a hand rests on his shoulder. “Can I buy your next round?”

James looks up into the face of a stranger. It’s a woman with striking green eyes and a disheveled pixie cut. Judging by her crimson cheeks and glazed eyes, she’s three sheets to the wind. There’s buzzed, then there’s drunk, and then there’s plastered. He prefers not to let himself get to that last category, and by extension, he doesn’t really like to associate much with people who won’t remember the night come morning.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he says with his most charming grin. “G’night.”

He has no idea if the woman knows who he is, but the way she shrugs and saunters to the gentleman sitting beside James, he doubts it.

He gets clumsily propositioned a few more times and always politely declines with a smile. So far, nobody here seems to recognize him and he is going to ride out this anonymity for as long as it’ll last. It has been too long since he’s been able to sit in a pub and drink quietly. Well, quietly, insofar as crazed fans or paparazzi aren’t harassing him—the music is loud enough that he’s sure to have ringing in his ears for a few hours once he gets home.

But he’s not really in any rush to get home, and so he orders his fourth cocktail before making his way to the loo. Alcohol goes right through him, and it’s nearly gotten him in trouble on tour a time or two.

There’s no line, but the loo is crowded, and he tries to ignore the double-takes as he stands in front of a urinal to take care of business. If he wakes up tomorrow morning to find that someone snapped a photo of him having a piss, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Bladder tended to, James keeps his head ducked and shoulders his way back into the bar. His stool is unoccupied, and when he steps forward, he realizes why. A purse sits on it, seemingly reserving the seat but he can’t figure out for whom. He’s about to take the cocktail the bartender hands him and stand against the shadowed wall when someone picks up the purse.

It’s his blonde-haired stool mate. She flashes him a broad grin that lights up her entire face and squeezes something deep in his stomach.

“Saved your seat for ya,” she says with the ease and confidence of someone who’s known him his whole life.

“Thanks,” he manages through a suddenly dry mouth.

Feeling like an idiot for standing and gaping, he slips into his seat and downs half his new sidecar in one go. It’s as though the ice has been broken now, and she turns to him, her elbow on the counter and her cheek propped on her fist.

“Pretty sure you could outdrink a fish, mate,” she drawls, smiling again in that easy way that does too many strange things to his insides. “You’ve been knockin’ ‘em back for over an hour now.”

Has it really been that long? James checks his watch, and yup, it’s half past ten. The paps should be gone from his house by now, but he feels no draw to leave this place. The alcohol has left him pleasantly tipsy and warm, but he’s more drunk on the fantasy that he’s just a normal bloke having a nice night out in a newly-discovered dive bar.

“Fish don’t really drink though, do they? They absorb water through their gills via osmosis,” he replies, and he wants to bite his tongue off because what the fuck was that??

This woman, whatever her name is, doesn’t seem to mind his answer though, because her face scrunches in a giggle. His body is hot and throbbing with more than drink now, and he wants to hear that sound again but his brain has stopped working.

“Is that so different from you absorbin’ alcohol through your bloodstream?” she muses, finishing off whatever is in her short tumbler.

“Can I buy your next round?” he blurts rather than responding to her question, which he’s almost certain was rhetorical.

Her smile melts into something softer, something private and a little shy. “If you’d like.”

“I do.” He flags down the bartender and glances at his new companion expectantly.

“Gin and tonic,” she says. She thanks the bartender, then James when she takes her first sip. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“James,” he says, feeling stupid because his face is plastered all over London, which likes to boast that it’s the home of international celeb James Noble. But wouldn’t he seem more of an arse if he just assumed this gorgeous woman knew who he was?

Nevertheless, his stomach sinks a bit when she snorts into her drink and says, “I thought it was you.”

“Yup, it’s me,” he forces, his voice flat. He hides his frown with his glass, knocking back the rest of his sidecar like it’s a shot. The room sways slightly with the violent motion of his head, and maybe he’s slightly drunker than he’d thought.

If Rose catches on to his sudden sour mood, she doesn’t mention it. “What brings you here to Bad Wolf?”

He shrugs and blows out a noisy breath. “I dunno. Went for a walk, ended up here.”

“Those are the best sort of adventures.” She hums wistfully. “Sometimes you find what you didn’t know you needed when you let yourself get lost.”

That observation is far too astute for his current state of mind, so instead he says, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Her eyes flicker across his face for a brief moment before she says, “Okay.”

He hops down from his stool, but Rose hesitates, clutching her purse and coat awkwardly. The bartender helpfully tells her to keep them on her stool, and he’ll keep an eye on it. Rose flashes him a grin that James would rather she flash at him, but he realizes that is utterly absurd, so he simply rests his coat on top of her things to better hide them from view. He then holds out his hand for her. Her palm is soft and warm against his as he leads her to the crowded dance floor.

They find space towards the back of the pub, hidden in the shadows of a hallway that states it’s closed off to patrons. And of course, of fucking course, right when he rests his hands on her hips to find the rhythm of the song, a new one comes on, and his own voice belts from the speakers.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. He loves his music—he made it, after all—but he can’t help but feel pretentious and more than a little silly to dance to it like this.

Rose, however, grins and says, “Oh, come on, this is one of my favorites.”

She catches his hands where he’d loosened them at her waist and forces him to grab hold of her. She’s wearing high-waisted trousers and a top that leaves a sliver of her belly exposed. His thumb grazes the skin of her bare side, and it’s enough to send tingles through his body. Rose, meanwhile, slings her arms around his shoulders and begins to rock her hips from side to side in sync with the bass, embellishing the motions until she looks absolutely ridiculous but so, so beautiful.

He can’t help but grin and laugh, and he mirrors her movements until they’re both dancing like idiots to his music.

“This is how my baby brother dances,” she explains, bouncing up and down while twisting her hips. “We have regular dance parties together.”

“How old’s your brother?” he asks.

“Just turned four.”

He blinks, and blood rushes from his face. “And… and how old are you?”

“A perfectly legal twenty-four,” she drawls, reaching up to flick his nose. “You can start breathing again.”

Thank fuck.

“That’s quite the age gap.”

“My mum got remarried when I was nineteen,” Rose says with a shrug. “She and my stepdad didn’t waste much time.”

“Clearly,” he mutters under his breath.

“It does feel a bit like they’ve started over,” Rose confesses with a too-stiff shrug. “New family, new life, and I’m the interloper.

There is no way this vivacious woman in front of him could ever be considered an interloper, but before he can tell her that, she continues, “Mum does her best to assure me otherwise, but still. It’s hard to watch all the things Mum and Dad are able to do for Tony—that’s my brother, Tony—when Mum struggled so much as a single mum with me.”

“Your dad’s not in the picture?”

A sad smile pinches her face, and he regrets asking.

“No, I never knew him. He died when I was a baby.”

“I… I’m so sorry.” Well, he’s totally buggered this all up, hasn’t he? He wracks his brain on how to salvage the easy banter they’d had at the bar, but draws a blank.

Rose seems to realize they’ve lost the mood, but she breaks out into a lazy grin and says, “Since you seemed so opposed to dancing to your own music, it’ll please you to know a new song’s on. C’mon, show me your moves.”

He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he follows her lead, watching her dance her heart out until her cheeks are pink and her hair is damp with sweat. He’s sure he doesn’t look much better, since he can feel the perspiration beading down his back and beneath his arms, but he can’t bring himself to care. Tonight has been the most fun he’s had in a very long time. Clubbing in New York had been a lark, but he’s been swarmed by his American fans half the night, and had been busy drowning his latest heartbreak to fully enjoy it. But here, now, with Rose, it’s like he’s any other bloke in a pub, chatting up a pretty girl he wants to get to know.

Their bodies are wrapped around each other with the ease and grace of partners who have known each other for years, and he forgets that he has known Rose for all of a few hours. He never wants this night to end. He wants to cling to this fairytale and pretend that the clock isn’t about to strike the proverbial midnight.

But time marches on as always. The clock really does strike midnight, and the bartender begins to clear people out of his establishment. James is as exhausted as he is exhilarated, no longer drunk on booze but rather the company of Rose and the magic they made together by simply dancing the night away.

They head back to the bar to retrieve their coats and her purse, and to close out their tabs. James slides his credit card to the bartender and asks him to charge everyone’s tab to his card. If the bartender is surprised, he hides it well. A few minutes later, James is signing off on the receipt of purchase of several thousand pounds-worth of alcohol. His personal assistant is sure to be confused as hell when she wakes up to see the charge. He fires off a quick warning text to her so she doesn’t open up a fraudulent charge claim.

James salutes the bartender, knowing he’ll come back to this pub as often as he can until he’s found out and this place once again becomes somewhere that’s overrun with his fans.

The night is refreshingly cold when he and Rose emerge into it, a nice change after the stifling, sweaty heat of the bar. However, she hunches her shoulders against the chill, prompting him to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her into his side, all too eager to lend her some of his body heat.

“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asks, glancing around the street that is now full of the drunken patrons who’d been in the pub with them. They all disperse in different directions, stumbling home or to a different bar that is still open. “Or wait with you ‘til you catch a cab?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, pulling up her phone to order a ride. She taps on the screen for a few quiet moments then says, “Done. Should be here in a few minutes.”

They descend into a slightly awkward silence that James wants to break, but he can’t think of anything clever to say. So he says nothing, and finally headlights wash over them, momentarily blinding them before a taxi pulls up.

“D’you wanna share?” she asks, opening the door to the back seat.

Is she as reluctant to leave him as he is to leave her? Or is she being polite and eco-friendly by ride sharing? Nevertheless, he nods and slides into the back seat beside her.

There is something incredibly intimate about sitting with Rose in the dark interior of the taxi, and he feels like he’s fifteen and wondering how to hold his date’s hand after a cheap night out at the cinemas. He fists his hands together, knotting his fingers until his knuckles pop.

The driver goes to the address Rose provides first, and all too soon they’ve arrived.

“I’ll cover the fare,” he says when she makes to hand over some bank notes to the diver. “It’d be my pleasure.”

She hesitates, but nods, then opens the door to climb out of the car. His pulse quickens as he watches her walk away with nothing but a, “Goodnight.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” he asks the driver.

“Meter’s still runnin’,” he grunts.

“That’s fine.”

James scrambles out of the taxi. “Hey, Rose?”

She turns back to face him, frowning.

“I… er… I had a great time tonight,” he says lamely, but her frown relaxes into a smile. “It was fun. With you. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” she answers.

He licks his lips; his mouth is bone dry and his pulse pounds in his ears, making his vision throb with each frenzied beat.

“Do you… do you maybe wanna do it again some time? Hang out together? I… I’d really like to see you again,” he says, cursing his clumsy, fumbling words.

She scrutinizes him for a long moment, her expression indecipherable. His stomach sinks. Maybe this was a one-off, a story for her to tell her mates.

You’ll never guess who I met at the pub last night. James Noble! He paid for all my drinks and we danced like idiots.

He stews in his misery of doubt, and just when he’s about to tell her to forget about it, she slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Really?” he asks, a hopeful edge creeping into his voice.

She laughs. “Really.”

“Brilliant!” James fumbles in his pocket for his phone, and he thrusts it at her. “Give me your number? I’ll text you. Or call.”

He rocks back and forth on his toes and heels, waiting for her to finish up with his phone. He has a sudden, potent bolt of panic that she’s snooping through his private messages or photographs for something to use against him to make a quick profit, but before that panic can take root, she hands his mobile back to him. It’s open to a new texting conversation.

From: 🌹 Bad Wolf Girl 🌹

Now I’ve got your number too 😉

He beams at the name she’s given to herself in his contacts, then he pockets his phone.

“I’ll see you later,” he says.

“You better,” she replies with that knee-weakening smile he’s grown to love over the course of the night. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

He stands there like a moron until she’s safely inside, then he turns back to the taxi and climbs in. The deserted streets streak by as the driver takes him to his neighborhood. He never gives his address though; he always chooses a destination a few streets away, just in case.

James generously tips the driver and bids him goodnight before slipping into the night to his home. He was right: the paparazzi are gone. There is no fanfare as he slips his key into the lock and lets himself into his house. It’s warm and cozy, but still too quiet for his liking.

Between the plane ride and his night out, he feels greasy and disgusting, and indulges in a hot shower before bed. He washes Rose’s scent off of his body, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that’s as sweet as it is musky.

He’s groggy by the time he crawls into his giant, king-sized bed and burrows deep into his mounds of pillows and duvets. One of his ex-girlfriends once teased that he turns into the marshmallow man when he sleeps.

His sleep is deep and dreamless, and when he awakes with the sun the following morning, he feels more refreshed and invigorated than he ever remembers being. He’s got a full day of meetings with his songwriting team to brainstorm his next album, and he is ready.

But first, he checks his phone. There’s nothing from Rose, which makes him a little sad, but also nothing from his publicist, which is always a good sign. If ever she messages or calls him first thing in the morning, it always means there’s some sort of dumpster fire to put out. Usually a dumpster fire full of compromising photos of him.

He makes a point of not Googling himself, but he does occasionally check his social media pages for new posts about him, wanting to know when, where, and how his fans came across him in the wild. He easily finds the photo that he took with the group of teenage girls, and makes a point to like the original post and type a quick, “Nice to meet you all. Thanks for chatting with me last night - J” in the comments section. He snorts to himself as his comment blows up within seconds.

But other than some grainy photos of him riding the bus, he can’t find any other photos of himself. Nothing of him wandering the streets or drinking in the pub or even having a wee in the mens’ room. And best of all, there’s nothing of him and Rose. No photos of them dancing together or sharing a cab. If Rose has a social media account, it didn’t post any sneaky photos or bragging stories about dancing all night with James Noble.

He can’t quite believe it; he managed to have a fun night out drinking without it all being thrown back in his face the next morning. Within seconds, he’s grinning to himself and pulling up Rose’s contact information. It’s still in his phone, further proof that his night with her wasn’t some sort of jetlagged fever dream. She was real.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Thanks for last night.”

She responds almost instantly. Good morning to you too. I should be thanking you for paying my drink tab and taxi fare 😉 And for being an excellent dance partner.

“The pleasure was all mine, on all counts.” He sends that message, then types out a new one, “I’m gonna be in meetings all day (yes, I know it’s Sunday), so please don’t be discouraged if I don’t reply. But I’d really like to see you again. Want to do dinner or drinks or coffee or something?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, needing to make himself presentable for when his driver picks him up in an hour. Yet he can’t help but check his phone every three seconds, until finally there’s a message from Rose.

Yeah, I’d like that. I work ‘til five most nights, but I’m free after that. Or we can wait ‘til the weekend.

With spirits lighter than they’ve been in months, James steps out of his house with a broad, stupid grin that the ever-present crowd of paparazzi are all too happy to photograph.

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #yet another iteration of james and rose lmao #romance #meet cute #light angst #musician au #my fic #sacred new beginnings

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol & sex, curse words, angst

CHAPTER 7

Charlie

9 months later…

I woke up to the knock on my door. I put on some pants and went to see who it was.

“Peter, what’s wrong?” I looked at the clock on the wall.

It wasn’t even 5 in the morning.

“I’m just passing by to tell you that you should go to see Ernie before you finish work today.” He was leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “We are getting 2 new dragons soon and I think we’ll need more people.”

“Sure.” I nodded sluggishly and rubbed my eyes.

“I want to add a person to your team. I know you can handle it but I don’t want you working extra hours when we can expand our crew.” He explained. “What do you need me to do?” I yawned.

“I picked someone with an impressive resume. Ernie will have the paperwork for you to fill out and just make sure you send it back tomorrow morning.”

“No problem. I’ll get it done.” I gave him a thumbs up.

He grinned at me and walked away.

A newbie. This should be fun! I never got to train anyone before. Everyone that I work with was already here before I arrived so I can’t lie that I was excited about this. I knew that Ernie wasn’t in so early in the morning and by the looks of the clouds I wouldn’t be able to see the sunrise today so I decided to go straight to Aami.

He was outside now. He had his own little habitat and everything! His wing never grew as Tina and I hoped it would so he will never be able to fly. He obviously didn’t care as much as I felt bad about it. He was such a cheerful dragon and obedient too. I love every single beast in this reserve but I can’t help to admit that the little Fireball became my favorite. He wasn’t little anymore, he was a head taller than me now but I will always see him as he was in the nursery when I watched him drink chicken blood and brandy.

As I promised Peter I went to the Admission Office after work.

“Hi, Ernie.” I greeted him when I stepped inside.

“Charlie!” He grinned at me.

He was the most cheerful person I will probably ever get a chance to meet.

“Peter said you have some papers for me?” I leaned on the counter.

“Right! The recruit!” He clapped. “Not going to lie, was a bit surprised when I saw it. Don’t tell Peter that I peeked.”

“I won’t.” I chuckled. He placed the papers in front of me. “Any letters for me?”

“Not today, no.” Ernie looked through the pile of envelopes that weren’t delivered yet.

“Have anything to send out?”

“No.” I shook my head. “But I do need to sign these and I need to send them first thing in the morning. When will you be here?”

“At seven. Is that too late?” He scratched his nose.

“No. That’s perfect. Thanks, Ernie.”

I gave him a high-five and said goodbye. I looked through the papers while walking back home and stopped when I saw the name on the application.

Rhylee Pertinger

No way! I took a deep breath. It can’t be her. I couldn’t know for sure because I didn’t even know her last name. There are many Rhylee’s out there, right?

I hurried to unlock the door, placed the pieces of parchment on my kitchen table, and sat down. I went through them. No resume. No details about who she was or where she was from. Just the name. It would be too much of a coincidence if it was her! Merlin can’t mess with me so much.

I was doing good. Not great but good. Considering that Bill barely sent me a letter and that I didn’t see him since that Christmas break, it was safe to say that he knew something.

I never saw Rhylee after that and never spoke to her and I was planning on keeping it that way. Her coming here would be a disaster. I can’t work with her. She can’t be on my team.

Calm down, Charlie. This doesn’t mean anything.

I checked the papers again. She’s arriving in two days. I can’t panic for two days. I was doing so great bottling everything that happened for a year and nine months and I won’t stop now. Even if it is her, nothing has to change.

When we work we rarely speak and since I still remember just how breathtaking she was, I know my co-workers will be all over her so I can just go back to living my normal, busy life.

—

“I think we are all done here.” I looked at my watch. “And with 20 minutes to spare.”

“Wow.” John looked impressed.

“Peter made a mistake recruiting that girl. We are just too good.” Evan looked proud.

“Oh, right! She’s arriving today. Fresh meat!” Theo clapped his hands together.

“Please don’t scare her away.” I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You better behave or I will fire you.” They all started laughing and we walked back to the village together to get lunch.

“Are you ready?” Peter came to our table just as we were finishing eating.

“For what?” I said with food in my mouth.

“Your new co-worker. She’s here.” He winked at me.

I got up and followed him to the main gate.

“I am so sorry, Charlie.” Peter put his hand on my shoulder as we were walking.

“What for?” I asked, puzzled.

“You will have a lot of trouble keeping your boys in line for the next few weeks.” He laughed.

“You lost me, Peter.” I wanted to laugh with him but I didn’t know what was so funny.

“I met the girl that’s joining your team. She’s about your age. Very pretty.” He started to explain. “She went to Beauxbatons and decided that Gringotts wasn’t really doing it for her anymore.”

My heart sank.

Gringotts?

Did he say Gringotts?

“Gringotts?” I asked, pretending to not know what he was talking about.

“C’mon, Charlie. We all know they have dragons down there.” He grinned at me. “She said that the work got boring so she applied for a transfer.”

He finally let go of my shoulder. I prayed to Merlin he couldn’t feel me stiffen up. There was no doubt in my mind now that I was right to panic two days ago.

It was her.

She was here.

Why?

I can’t do this. This was my safe place. I didn’t go home for such a long time, because I felt so guilty, that my parents actually came to visit me. And now she was here.

I wish I could say that I forgot all about her but it would be a bold lie. I didn’t. I still think about her from time to time. I still remember the feeling I had when I was with her. I remember every detail of her face and her body as if I saw her yesterday. I hated the feeling in my chest. The happy, excited feeling of seeing her again.

I sucked in a breath and suppressed it. Bottled it down like everything else from that few days at the Burrow.

“You okay?” Peter looked at me.

“Fine. A bit nervous. I am too young to boss so many people around.” I chuckled nervously, hoping he will interpret it as a joke.

“You’ll do fine.” He said with a serious face. “You have been working here for 5 years Charlie and I don’t regret putting you in charge of a team.”

“Thanks.” I smiled faintly.

It meant a lot coming from him.

We arrived at the gate and my legs stopped working when I saw her. I had to use every muscle on my face to keep my jaw from dropping. How could she be even more beautiful than when we first met? My heart started racing and I swallowed hard. This was not good.

She can’t do this to me! Can I fire her before she even starts working?

“Hi, Rhylee.” Peter waved at her and I was finally able to move again. “This is…”

“Charlie.” She grinned.

Was she happy to see me?

“You two know each other?” Peter turned to me.

Great. Now they are going to ask me how I know her. What am I supposed to tell them!

“Kind of.” I said, my voice barely audible.

“You’ll tell me later.” Peter whispered to me and pushed me forward.

Rhylee and I awkwardly shook hands.

Her touch sent shivers down my spine and I couldn’t stop the night we spent together rolling in front of my eyes.

There it was again. That feeling I got when I was around her. The feeling in my chest, pushing me toward her. I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t ignore it.

“I’ll leave you two alone…”

Oh, please don’t.

“And I’ll see you at dinner.” Peter waved at us and walked away.

Okay. Act professionally. You are her boss and she is just going to work here. No big deal, right?

“So, I’ll show you to your cabin first. And then if you’re not too tired I can show you around. Where everything is…you know…dragons…” I couldn’t look at her. I was looking straight ahead but I could feel her eyes on me. “…and stuff.”

I swallowed hard. I don’t think I was ever so nervous.

We walked in complete silence until we reached her cabin. Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward at all. How could it be that I was enjoying walking through the Reserve with her in silence after not seeing each other for almost 2 years?

I wanted to say something. I wanted to know why she was here. I wanted to ask her why she came here. I wanted to know how she is. But I couldn’t gather up the courage to do it. She didn’t say anything even though I know she glanced at me a few times.

In the end, I decided to just stay quiet. I did say that I won’t talk to her outside work so at least I was doing something right.

“Here are your keys and my cabin’s right over there.” I pointed at the one between the two opposite hers. “We meet every morning around 7 in front of it and we go feed the dragons together.” I handed her the keys and she slowly unlocked the door.

She placed her bag inside and locked the door back up. She put the keys in the back pocket of her jeans, all while looking me straight in the eyes. The expression on her face was as if I was looking at myself in the mirror.

Awestruck but horrified at the same time.

She had to know I still work here. She had to know that we would meet sooner or later. Perhaps she didn’t think that she would be on my team or that I would be her boss.

Well, neither have I so welcome to my club!

We stood there for a few more seconds, looking at each other like idiots, and just as she opened her mouth to say something I gestured for her to move.

“Let me show you around.” I had to stop her from speaking.

I was terrified of what she had to say.

“We have 15 dragons in the Reserve and our team works with 5 of them. Up there…” I pointed my finger at the boulder to our left. “Is our Chinese Fireball, Gorra. Behind that hill is Ogto, our Ukrainian Ironbelly. On the other side…” I turned my head to the right now. “We have Ren the Romanian Longhorn, for which you already heard about.” I swallowed hard when I remembered that she asked me if Ren was my girlfriend. “And right next to his habitat is Bunny, our Common Welsh Green.”

She turned to me and I wished she wouldn’t have that look in her eyes. If it was possible, sparks would fly out of them. She seemed so excited to meet every single one of the dragons I just mentioned.

“The last one is the newest member of our family.” I tore my eyes off hers and turned around. “I don’t know if you’ve heard what happened at the Triwizard Tournament last year at Hogwarts when the Chinese Fireball stepped on her eggs.” She gasped and shook her head. “We only managed to save one egg and since it was cracked he couldn’t evolve properly so he can’t fly.”

“Otherwise, he’s okay?” She whispered.

I just hummed.

“I took care of him and still do. His name is Aami and he isn’t big on trust yet so I can take you to meet him tomorrow but I usually go feed him alone.” I looked at her to see how she will respond.

“I understand.” She said with a gentle voice.

“So in the morning, we feed them. Then after lunch we train them and then before dinner we feed them again.” I explained our daily routine while taking her to see where the Admission Office and the nursery were.

“If you want to work with hatchlings you have to talk to Peter.” We stopped in front of the nursery. “He allowed me to be with Aami before we could move him and I’m in charge of a team so if you have a wish to work with baby dragons I am sure he could do something about it.” I grinned at her.

I couldn’t stop my lips from spreading into one. I was getting soft. Getting comfortable around her again. This wasn’t good. I have to keep it together. But it was so hard. It was so easy to just talk to her even if she barely said anything back.

I know she was just taking everything in. She loved the dragons at Gringotts more than anything and I am sure she couldn’t wait to start working with the ones we have here.

I felt as if she didn’t change a bit. She was still emitting positive energy. She still had that playful look in her eyes. She looked excited and she was just overall a pleasant person to be around. The only thing that changed was the fact that she was nervous and she tried hard to hide it too. It made me feel more at ease but bothered me at the same time as I couldn’t shake the feeling she felt like this because of me.

“Charlie…” She started, her voice barely audible.

“It’s Friday today and we only work tomorrow, we have Sunday off this week.” I interrupted her. I didn’t know what she was about to say but her voice was telling me that she wasn’t about to ask a question concerning her orientation. “You can also work on your days off, of course.” I continued.

I was only doing my job after all.

“On those days you go to Ernie, who works in Admission Office which we passed before and he will appoint you to where they need more hands to help.”

She simply nodded.

I told her everything she needed to know. What am I supposed to do now?

“You must be tired.” I said, looking at nothing in particular behind her. “I’ll let you settle in.” I glanced at her and quickly looked away. I couldn’t deal with the curiosity with which she was looking at me. “On Friday we all usually grab a beer in the tavern. You can come if you’d like.” I blurted.

I was so weak gazing into her eyes. I already knew that her working here is going to be my downfall. I loved my job and I have to do everything to keep her from ruining it for me.

“I’ll see how long I’ll need to finish unpacking.” She smiled shyly. “Emm, could you tell me in which direction my cabin is again?” She looked embarrassed.

It was only natural that she felt a bit disorientated. The Sanctuary wasn’t exactly small.

“Why don’t I accompany you? I have to change anyway.” I offered.

I knew it was a bad idea but I have to be nice to her. She didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not her fault I’m feeling this way. She was my co-worker now and I need to make her feel comfortable at her new workplace.

We walked to her hut in complete silence. The questions of how she is and what she is doing here resurfaced but I didn’t say anything. I could sense that she wanted to speak but thought better of it.

We awkwardly said goodbye and I rushed to my home as fast as I could. I unlocked the door and shut it loudly behind me. I leaned on it and let my body slide down until I could feel the floor beneath me.

This is seriously not happening!

I was panicking again. I didn’t even know why but I knew this wasn’t good. It wasn’t good for me. I have been bottling everything up, hiding my feelings. Pretending that nothing happened, that I didn’t feel guilty about what happened that Christmas. Her being here made all of that come right back up.

All the guilt, all the sensations, all the memories.

The pain of the thoughts of what I did to Bill.

Everything.

I didn’t even know why Bill stopped talking to me. The letters just got rarer and rarer and now I’m lucky I get anything from him and when I do, it’s short and to the point. I miss him. I miss my best friend, my brother. I miss talking to him and telling him everything.

I was too afraid to ask him what was wrong. Too afraid to say something. Mum didn’t mention anything out of the ordinary so I knew he was okay but I knew that our relationship changed.

Did he know what happened between me and Rhylee? He couldn’t. He didn’t even tell me if he ever got around to asking her out that’s how much silence was between us.

I buried my fingers in my hair and started pulling. Why was this affecting me so much? Why did I have to put such pressure on myself? I can’t escape this time. This is my job. I could lie and apparate away from my family but I can’t just pack my bags and leave.

I can’t just run again.

But I can’t face her either. I can’t talk to her about us or how I feel. She can never know. She’d think I’m insane. This is the second time I’m seeing her. She probably forgot all about me.

Yeah!

That’s why she was so shocked when she saw me. She remembered that I worked here. That had to be it. And here I was, pounding my head like an idiot, overthinking everything again.

It’s my fault I feel like this and I have to get my shit together. I have to do it for my job. If I could talk about nothing else than dragons for seven years at Hogwarts and if I could study like an idiot for my O.W.L.s and my N.E.W.T.s to get this job I have to do everything to make myself comfortable and enjoy it as I did before she showed up. I won’t let myself ruin this!

I can’t.

It’s the only good thing I have going for me.

I don’t have a girlfriend. Yes, I did sleep with April three times. And I slept with two other girls but it was meaningless. I felt so empty doing it. It didn’t bring me any joy. It didn’t even come close to what I felt that night with Rhylee. So I just stopped.

I gave up all hope to ever find a girl like her and to be honest, at this point I wasn’t even trying. I’m better off alone. Most of the people here are single.

Why would I have to be the special one? Why would I have a perfect job and find the perfect girl?

I took a deep breath and held it in. I was hoping it would make all the feelings inside me disappear. At least it made me calmer. I took a quick shower and changed my clothes. A part of me wanted to just stay in tonight but I knew my friends would ask questions tomorrow and I can’t have them doing so in front of her.

I closed my eyes before leaving my hut.

You got this, Charlie.

Just breathe.

She’s just a girl.

I locked the door behind me and headed to the tavern.

“You drunk already, Theo?” I joked as I sat down.

“Sober as a Pixie.” He shook his head.

He looked disappointed that he wasn’t drunk.

“What does that even mean?” Asked John as he reached our table.

“I’ll tell you what it means.” Theo gestured for him to sit down next to me.

“Do you know Gerta?” He looked at every single one of us. We all nodded. “I asked her out before coming here.”

I pressed my lips together, trying hard not to laugh. Gerta was the only woman in the Reserve with whom nobody dared to mess. She was taller than all of us and she had strong hands, covered with tattoos. She started working here a little after I did and I always felt so intimidated by her.

“You’re joking!” Andrew shouted.

“You didn’t!” John slammed his hand on the table.

We looked at each other. We couldn’t hold it in anymore. We started laughing.

“And how…” I couldn’t breathe. Theo mentioned on several occasions over the years that he was going to ask her out but never mustered the courage to do so. “How did it go?” I tried keeping a straight face even though I knew I was failing miserably.

“At first she laughed.” Theo looked offended. This was too good. After all these years of teasing me, this was just what I needed today. “Then she slapped me so hard that everything turned dark for a second.”

I have never seen Evan laughing as hard as he was now. John was slamming the table with both of his hands now, making the beer glasses jump. I actually shed a tear, that’s how funny it was as I imagined Gerta slapping the complete shit out of him. I didn’t think anything could make my day today but boy was I wrong. This was priceless.

“Did you at least walk away?” I asked as I wiped away the tear.

“Of course, not! Don’t you know me?” Theo facepalmed himself.

“Oh, no. What did you do?” John asked after finally catching his breath.

“My stupid arse asked her if the slap meant no or was she just kinky.” Our laugher filled the air around us once again.

He didn’t do that! Why didn’t he ask her out in front of us? I would do anything to see that happening!

“And what did she do?” Andrew was holding his stomach.

His muscles probably hurt from laughing as much as mine did.

“What do you think she did?” Theo was now laughing with us. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop us and was better off joining us. “She slapped me again, on the other side.” He pointed at his left cheek.

“What are you idiots laughing so hard for?” Peter joined us and sat down.

“Theo asked Gerta out.” John managed to say before starting laughing again.

“What?” Peter looked at Theo in disbelief. “You…”

“There’s our new girl, mates!” He interrupted himself and nodded his head behind me, John, and Andrew.

We turned around and Rhylee was awkwardly standing by the bar, waiting for her drink. She was wearing an old oversized t-shirt and still managed to look so cute.

“That’s our new co-worker?” Andrew forgot how to close his mouth.

“How in Godric’s Hollow are you expecting us to do any work around here with her working alongside us?” Evan moaned.

“And guess what?” Peter smirked, looking at me. “Charlie knows her.” They all turned to me. “So I think she’s off-limits.” He winked at me.

“She’s Bill’s friend.” I said quickly.

I didn’t want them to ask any further questions. I already didn’t like the smirks on their faces.

“We made friends with the wrong brother.” Theo shook his head and if he was sitting next to me I would punch him in the gut.

“I don’t buy it.” Evan said.

“Buy what?” John wasn’t paying attention.

“I think Weasley’s lying to us.”

They were on to me.

“Interesting.” Said Theo slowly.

“What’s your theory?” They all turned to Evan.

I wish the ground beneath me would open up and swallow me.

“I believe him that she’s Bill’s friend.” Evan started. “But I don’t think the story ends there.”

I swallowed hard.

Why was I friends with these gits?

“C’mon, Charlie. Tell us.” They blinked at me like a bunch of girls at a sleepover.

“I…”

“Hi.” This was the first time I was glad Rhylee showed up. “I didn’t know where to sit and I only know you two.” Her eyes went from Peter to me.

“I don’t think we were properly introduced.” Theo stood up so abruptly that he banged his knees into the table.

He extended his arm and Rhylee shook his hand.

One by one they all introduced themselves and offered her to sit down. Thank Merlin she didn’t decide to sit down next to me.

“So you transferred here from Gringotts. You have to tell us about the dragons there!” Andrew broke the silence and I could see Rhylee appreciated it.

“I can’t really tell you much.” She smiled. “I am still sworn to secrecy even if I don’t work there anymore.” The boys started whining. “But I can tell you there are three dragons and one of them is an albino.” Her eyes kept escaping to me.

“Albino! Did you hear that, Charlie!” John bumped my shoulder.

I only hummed in response and tried looking anywhere but at her. They all knew one of my life goals was to see an albino dragon.

She told them why they are keeping dragons in Gringotts and what her job was. She told them that she was in charge of her own team and Theo teased me that she might steal my job. She told them about their feeding schedule and that the Norwegian Ridgeback has only been with them for a year and nine months.

A year and nine months.

That’s how long it has been since we last saw each other. And I still remember that she wanted to name the dragon Nyx. I wonder if she chose that name. I hated that I couldn’t ask her. I would give myself away that she is not just Bill’s friend and if I start a conversation with her, I am not sure I’ll be able to stop.

“How come you came here?” Andrew asked her.

“I was having a hard time watching the dragons be so secluded.” She admitted. “And…” She shook her head, stopping herself from finishing the sentence, and gazed at me.

They were all looking at her with raised eyebrows.

There were so many words on her lips that just couldn’t wait to escape her mouth. I knew she wanted to say more but for some reason, I knew she only wanted me to hear what she has to say. I sunk in my seat. I was feeling bad for her. This was as unfair to me as it was to her even though I had no idea what was going through her head.

A pretty girl like her…she has to be with someone. She moved on. Nobody is as stupid as me, obsessing over someone who I can’t be with and for a year and nine months too. For all I know, she could already be married and have a child.

My eyes scanned the fingers on her left hand. I couldn’t stop myself from looking.

No ring.

Why did I feel relief?

Why did I feel good about it?

“It was nice meeting all of you.” She emptied her glass. “I would love to stay and get to know all of you better but I’m quite tired.” They all started mumbling that it’s alright and that they understand as she stood up.

She said good night to us and walked away. I could feel her eyes on me before she walked away but I couldn’t look at her.

I wanted to stand up and run after her. I felt like I was going to burst into flames if I don’t. I wanted to tell her that I still think about her and I wanted to finally tell her how I felt that night. I wanted to bury my face in her hair and wrap my hands around her waist and kiss her so strongly that she would have to hold tight to me not to fall.

“You’re drooling, Weasley.” John whispered to me, disturbing my train of thoughts.

“Okay, now I’m with Evan. She is not just Bill’s friend.” Theo said after she was out of our hearing distance.

“The awkwardness between you two…” Said Andrew.

“And the way she was looking at you.” Continued Peter.

“What happened?”

They all turned to me after John’s question.

“I told you that she is Bill’s friend.” I said through my teeth.

They cornered me. They knew me too well to buy my lie.

“And…” Peter pushed my beer closer to me and gestured for me to say more.

“I can’t.” I said, my voice rusty.

I shook my head. They can’t know. I promised myself I will keep this to myself. That I will never tell anybody. I kept it a secret for so long, I can’t give up now.

“Charlie,” I felt John’s hand on my shoulder, “we’re your mates. What the fuck is going on?”

“Bill brought her home last Christmas. He fancied her.” I blurted out. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I was looking at the beer glass in front of me. I couldn’t look them in the eyes. “We got drunk together while the rest of the family was in the village and we had sex.” And I couldn’t stop talking either.

It felt so good saying it out loud. Admitting it. I told them everything. How Bill doesn’t know or at least I don’t think he does. How guilty I feel and how she made me feel and just how bad I feel that she is here.

Everything that I bottled up for almost two years came running up and I just couldn’t stop talking. I was a rat’s hair away from bursting into tears that’s how many emotions were running through my body but I blinked them away.

It might’ve felt good telling them this but I am not going to cry in front of them. We were drinking beer for fuck sake. We were adults. I’m not going to cry about a girl I barely knew. I already told them too much.

“Bloody hell.” Andrew was the first to speak after a long pause.

I was still staring at my glass. I wasn’t ready to see their expressions.

“Why didn’t you ever tell us about her, Charlie?” John asked gently.

I finally lifted my chin. They all looked like they felt sorry for me, as if they understood where I was coming from, as if they were on my side.

I had to be reading them wrong.

They can’t be.

Don’t they understand what a terrible person I am? What I did to my brother?

“I promised myself I would never tell anyone. I was doing so well. I didn’t think she would start working here.” I admitted.

“Doing well?” Theo scoffed. “You’re miserable, mate.”

I looked at him and then at Peter and Andrew who were both nodding in agreement.

“We might joke around a lot and tease you Charlie, but this is not okay. You still feel guilty after all this time and we can see that it’s tearing you apart.” Evan continued.

“Is she with Bill?” Peter asked carefully.

“I honestly don’t know. I never brought myself to ask.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Bill changed his attitude in his letters soon after and now I’m lucky enough if I even get a response from him. I don’t know how he could find out but it would be the only explanation why he’s not talking to me.”

Saying it out loud hurt.

I felt like I lost my brother.

And for what?

For a girl?

I was ashamed of myself.

“No wonder you never take a day off. You overwork yourself thinking it would help with all your problems.” John sounded disappointed.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, mate.” Andrew said gently.

“And what am I supposed to do?” I raised my voice. I didn’t want to talk about my feelings. Everything I felt on Christmas day came right back up but this time, it hurt twice as much. “Do you even know how pathetic I sound that I’m still not over a girl that I spend one night with? What a terrible person I am to sleep with my brother’s girl?” I buried my face in my hands.

“You’re not pathetic. You two had a real connection. Do you know how rare that is?” I looked up at Peter.

“It is?” I said more to myself than to them.

They all nodded.

“We might joke around with women but deep down we all want what Peter has.” Andrew admitted, putting his arm around Peter’s shoulder.

He was the only one of our lot who was married. Who was in a relationship for that matter. I knew that Peter met Tina before I got here and they seemed happy to me but he never really talked that much about her. John told me once that they got married rather quickly but that was pretty much it.

“I have that with Tina,” Peter explained, “what you described, Charlie. And if that’s really how you feel you have to talk to her.” I shook my head.

Was he mental!

What was this?

What happened to us messing around and drinking beer on Friday night? Since when were they giving me relationship advice?

“You have to clear the air otherwise it will eat you alive.” John followed his lead.

“Talk to Bill if you have to. I’m sure he would understand.” Andrew continued.

They were all losing it.

Understand? There is nothing to understand. Everything is clear as a Summer’s day. What am I supposed to do? Apparate to Egypt and say “Hey, Bill. So…yeah…I fancy your girl. You understand right?”

“I don’t know in what fucking fairytale land you are all living in, but this is real life and things are not that easy.” I chugged my beer and slammed the glass at the table.

“They are, Charlie.” Peter tried to convince me.

This was too much. They lost it.

“Stop it!” I shook my head and stood up. “We are not talking about this anymore. Not now, not ever.”

Why did I have to open my mouth?

“Forget about it and I’ll see you tomorrow at seven, okay?” I walked away without looking at any of them.

I felt their eyes piercing through me as I got further away.

I am not going to allow them to feel bad for me. I was the antagonist here. I was the one who made a mistake. I wasn’t allowed to be forgiven. I can’t be. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Why did I have to be so honest? And the worst part was, this time I wasn’t even drunk.

#harry potter fanfiction #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #the weasleys #weasley family #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley imagine #the burrow #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #bill weasley #harry potter #wizarding world

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strangerays · 3 years

Text

Nothing in Particular Update #3

About seven months and I finished the first draft at 93k!

I always imagined how it would feel to finish a first draft (I’ve been writing novels “seriously” since about 2017) and now that I’ve finally done it, I can say it’s a better feeling than I imagined! Telling my friends and family (and even my doctor, who was really quite excited about it) was an amazing amazing thing. I’m generally pretty nervous to tell people about my work, but I had a really positive reaction. Honestly all of it has me on a creative high (not sure I’m coming down from that any time soon lol).

I’m going back for my last year of school in two days, which means I’m not going to have as much time as I did to write all summer. This is okay, because I’m actually going to take an entire month off of writing! I’m really burnt out - don’t want to start editing a story that’s so near to me if I don’t feel ready. I’ll talk more about editing when the time comes!

In a lot of ways, I found that my life mimicked my art. I think for a lot of people, it tends to be the other way around, but this story did a lot to heal me.

Going to hop right into excerpts now! I’m not going to explain much this far into the story because I would like to try to publish this story (FAR in the future) so I apologize for that! Also, I stopped naming most of the chapters until I go back and edit because there are just SO MANY and I didn’t have the time to stop and think of cool names. Anyways... enjoy!!

(Here is the link to the original masterpost!)

text: Rays of gold curled to the ground, primordial and shy as the fire reeds on the cusps of shallow pool around the bay outside of Mothouse combed them to fine sparkles. I remembered the way Lonan kneeled on the edges of this pool. He never dove in – just blinked slowly as he watched crabs and minnows chase each other in a swirl of sand. I could not resist the water. I’d made it a part of me. My hair was longer then; down to my elbows, fading from dark red to orange and white, soaked always. Lonan let me borrow his shirts when I forgot to bring my own. They hung from my waist, too big for me, and I was warm even as the breeze rocked us inside.

text: The sky was never blue in Point Blink. At least, I couldn’t remember the last time the clouds hadn’t given way to a dark gray mist. Jude was here. I was out of place. I was floating – watching slender, underfed pines wave in the breeze behind houses on the water before they disappeared underneath furls of cloud. Bursts of warm light shone in windows on the bay, like hungry eyes watching for a storm. A group of kids our age chaffed on a rocky expanse, their heads popping over pockets of darkness when they laughed. Froths of cloud stretched across the sky, moving the ground with it. Long stretches of trees and islands far on the other side of our small pocket of ocean looked more like large freight ships. Lights glittered and beamed on the roads and highways that belonged to the city. Pink was starting to show over the horizon. Lonan was on the other side. Somewhere.

text:

Jude sucked her lips in and flopped onto her stomach so she could see the blue below her feet. Her dark curls draped over her ears and hid her nose.

“I can’t see the bottom of the ocean.” She cupped her fingers with the other hand. “See where the water fades to white and back again? The endless tide. Why do people say the ocean is blue?”

I leaned forward. She was right. Blue ocean climbed up the side of the cliffs and turned the rocks a dark gray; ate the erosion as if from a plate. I’d never had the ocean explained to me that way before.

“I think I like it that way,” I said.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was at the bottom of Point Blink.

text:

She smiled weakly. “It’s okay. This is just guesswork. Patchwork.”

I wanted to apologize again, but I had a strong guess that it might make her annoyed with me. “It’s kind of like… I’m just waiting for the next bad thing to happen.”

She wrinkled her nose and eyebrows, scrunched up her little face. “That’s dumb.”

“I think it’s a smart way to live.” Sometimes it felt like worry was the only thing that kept me alive. It wasn’t dumb at all.

“You’re going to be fine though. We’re going to be fine. If something bad happens, we’ll deal with it. Don’t let it eat you.”

There was wisdom in what this seventeen-year-old girl on my bed had offered me. I caught it like a gold coin. Before I could reply with anything, she launched into another question. I didn’t want to think much about change anyways.

text:

“Oh. Wow. That’s like, next year.” I sort of laughed.

“A year can be a long time,” Lonan said with a wince. “What do you think?”

I sighed through my nose and leaned back with him. The sun was going down. Sometimes, my life felt less like a golden hourglass and more like a stopwatch with a broken face.

“For once, I think I agree with your mom.”

Lonan just stared at me, with something like awe.

“I think you should do what you want,” I said.

“Ray,” Lonan started.

“No,” I interrupted him. “It’s not about me. She’s stopped you from doing anything and everything you’ve wanted to for the last four years, so when you go to college, you’ve got to separate yourself from this place.” I pointed to him. “You’re allowed to do this.”

text:

Maybe I was just being strange. Lonan was my best friend. It didn’t help that there was a little bit of him in everything – the tide pools, the echo of shells, my broken camera.

Soon, we stood in the center of the field. A breeze whispered through the cattails, fanning against our knees. Ellis loped behind me as I stepped in and out of tire tracks under the cloudless sun. She wasn’t much different than Jude. Her footsteps crunched excitedly behind mine, excited at the prospect of an unprecedented adventure. I’d missed those.

Lonan said he didn’t like to walk in fields because the wind tricked him into thinking that someone was behind him. Every brisk of his heel was a trick of the mind. Sometimes I felt the same way, like I might be haunted.

text:

The ageless water begged me closer, frizzed my hair and swathed my arms in a sweet, familiar scent. I remembered galloping down to the shore with a childhood friend in one May. Soft piano accompanied croaky lyrics from someone’s radio when we fell chest-first into the water. Static erupted in my head. There had been nothing new for me in Point Blink for so long that I’d forgotten what it was like to float. Grass turned into pebbles, and I heard Ellis’ footsteps soften to the beat of the sand. Our eyes crumbled the shells that walled the long expanse of dark sand where waves rolled in. We leaned over like two swans, crunching shells beneath our feet, displaying shells to one another, naming the ones we recognized, and when I looked out at the horizon, I saw blue.

Red plastic cups, cigarettes, and even some broken glass stuck out through the sand as we made our way further down the shoreline, as if someone had thrown a party. My brow furrowed. Maybe this part of the beach wasn’t so abandoned after all.

Between the spit of the waves and dry sand lay some sort of book. Sand trickled out of the pages and onto my shoes when I swept it out of line of an oncoming wave. Ellis was beside me in moments. Shells tolled under her shoes.

*Warning for mention of blood (fake blood and fake knife!!) this takes place on Halloween haha*

text:

Jude held the container in her palm, kneeled down so we were shoulder to shoulder. Her eyes fixed on the knife in my neck, mine on her hands, then her focused expression. Her fingers tipped my chin up, cold on my skin. I tried not to move. Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about Dad, or Raven, or Lonan. I only let Jude in – this girl who had come out of nowhere and wrecked me, saved me. And she didn’t know any of that. I didn’t owe anything to her, but I needed her. She kept us afloat when I couldn’t even keep myself above water. Her fingers painted blood over the center of my throat, our breath quiet on each other’s cheeks. She held my shoulder as she set back.

“Absolutely feral,” she said.

text:

“Point Blink is all I have. It’s where I am, what I am.” My throat was tight. “It’s all I’ve known. I am happy with my life. And I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to throw all of that away so we can dig up answers. I want to stay.”

Jude sat there for a moment. I think Florian and Ellis had turned to look at us, because when we went silent, I could no longer heat their hushed whispers, only the sound of water as it rose and rose and rose. I wondered if it would rain.

Jude sat up on her hands, then her knees, then she stood over me.

“Is that what you honestly believe?”

Tears bubbled in her eyes. Blood streaked down her cheeks. I’d been so focused on not crying, I had missed when she started to.

“Point Blink is just the same as anywhere,” she said. The words sat somewhere above her inside her chest, weak and frail, as though they’d been realized a long time ago.

I’d stared into her eyes until they disappeared. She grabbed onto a branch above her and quietly swung herself around a corner. Her footsteps echoed until they dissolved into waves and birds and frogs and left me in the dark.

#10

*Warning for strong language!*

text:

“Why didn’t you tell me how you’d been feeling?” he asked after a few moments of silence. It was beginning to stretch uncomfortably.

“I know I don’t deserve to know,” he added, “but you’ve always put me first.”

I picked at the wood that peeled from the fence.

“I just want you to be okay,” Lonan croaked. “Please tell me what to do.”

Even when we were together, we still worried about each other. It wasn’t always that way. Maybe that was my fault. I didn’t want to think about it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I mumbled into the crisp, red air. “To be fair, I didn’t know it like I know now for a long time. I think sometimes I got the same way as a kid. Now I have a name for it, and I still don’t know if it feels right.” I sighed. “I guess… I guess I just thought that was how things were supposed to be. I thought I was only the humming low and the high.”

“Of course that’s not how you’re fucking supposed to be.”

I coughed on a laugh, wiped away a new set of tears. On the rare occasion that Lonan did swear, he sounded much like he was doing it for the first time.

I hadn’t fully realized what I’d said before Lonan’s hand was around my arm. He pulled me close to his chest. I felt smaller than him; warm and safe. I exhaled and sunk into him, didn’t allow anything else in. I’d almost forgotten what that felt like.

“You’re funny and smart and better than a lot of people.”

And... that wraps up all of my excerpts for the time being! I really enjoyed writing the last four chapters of this book. Of course they aren’t perfect. A lot of the book needs improvement. There are entire characters who are flat and plot lines I just forgot about! Come October, I plan to get back into my edits/rewrite the story.

Really quick before I finish writing this:

I just wanted to thank everyone who read about my story and showed genuine interest in the characters. Had I not received all of this love from people in real life and online, I might never have finished this draft at all. When I started this story, my mental health was really quite bad. (I’m doing a whole lot better these days!!) I guess you could say the idea started as more of a journal entry. All of these characters are like little parts of me coming together to help the main character, and I think there’s something really special about that.

Thank you so much! Good luck on all your creative endeavors! It pays off in the end, I promise :)

tag list (ask to be +/-); @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-writer @baguettethebooklover @corkytheguar @writeherewaiting @cryptid-s-wips @kingsinking @author-a-holmes

#my little note at the end says it all haha #thank you so so much for reading!#I still can't believe I finished this book on five hours of sleep

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milstrim · 3 years

Text

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 5: Ironic

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

"Woah."

"I know, right," Peter said, unzipping the inside of the suit and moving to plug it into Ned's computer. His friend continued to gape at it, fingers trailing over the fabric reverently.

"I can't believe Iron Man made this," he whispered. "I get to sit here. And touch a superhero suit. That Tony Stark made. For my best friend. This is the greatest day of my life."

"You've said that a lot recently," Peter pointed out, pulling up the schematics of the suit on Ned's computer, who turned to look at him in confusion.

"What are you doing? Are you supposed to be messing with it?"

"I'm not messing with it. I'm just going through Karen's code real quickly."

"Karen?"

"The AI," he explained. "I just want to make sure she's not gonna snitch on me."

"Snitch on you for what?"

"Uhhh, so you know those alien weapons I've been talking about?"

Ned nodded. "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna take that down, and I don't really need Karen telling Mr. Stark," he mumbled the last part nervously. Ned stared at him.

"Why don't we want Karen telling Mr. Stark again? I mean, he gave you the suit, he must think you're capable."

Peter paused, puffing up his cheeks as he took in an awkward breath, staring at the protocols showing up on the computer. He'd already spotted three to tell Mr. Stark if he was in trouble, so he knew it was the opposite of Ned's assumption.

"Actuallyyyy..." He took a deep breath. "You can't tell anyone this." Ned nodded, but he continued to press. "I mean it. Nobody. Not a soul."

"I won't, I won't! I promise, Peter. Not. A. Soul."

"Mr. Stark's my soulmate."

Ned's head whipped around to stare at Peter's shadow, his mouth falling open.

"Oh, my God... Oh, my God! He's your soulmate!!?" Peter nodded, preparing himself for Ned's excited ramblings, but he couldn't really hide the smile on tugging at his lips either, however faint it was. "This is insane! Your life is so fucking insane I think I'm going to lose it!! Have you talked to him? Wait--yeah you have! How many times have you talked to him? Have you done, I don't know, 'soulmate things?'"

"Ned, what?"

Ned threw his hands up. "I don't know, I haven't met my soulmate. I'm trying my best, Peter!"

Peter laughed, shrugging.

"I don't really know what 'soulmate things' are, but we had dinner, and he showed me some stuff in his lab."

"Oh, my God...you've been in his lab. You know you have to show me one day."

"Definitely. I'll figure it out later, just, let us get more used to each other? Maybe? Let me impress him at least, which is why I'm trying to keep Karen from snitching on me."

"Sure. Here," Ned agreed, sitting beside him on the bed and gesturing for the computer. Peter passed it over to him wordlessly. "I'll work on the protocols, you do detective work or something."

"Thanks, dude."

"By the way, and answer honestly, is that Tony Stark's hoodie?"

Peter glanced down at the red hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him, 'MIT' emblazoned on the sleeves while the faded logo sat on the front of the piece of clothing. He smiled at Ned. "Yep."

"This is so cool," his friend melted.

With an amused eyeroll, Peter pulled out his phone, clearing his throat and nervously calling, "Karen?"

The phone lit up. "Yes, Peter?"

"Listen, ah, I was wondering if you could help me. I'm trying to figure out who these guys under the bridge were a few nights ago, but I mean, I can only kind of remember part of a license plate."

"Can you tell me where you were?" Peter rattled off Liz's neighborhood. Karen was silent for a little bit before piping up again. "Was there a white van involved?"

Peter perked up. "Yes! Exactly!"

A hologram popped up from Peter's phone. Ned stopped to stare at it as they both let out an identical, "Whoa..."

Peter watched intently from the security camera as the van rolled up under the bridge to where the buyer had been waiting. Karen highlighted the faces for him.

"Okay. The two on the right, who are they?" he asked.

"Searching law enforcement databases," Karen said, pausing before answering. "No records found for two of the individuals."

"Nothing?"

"One individual identified." The recording was replaced by a mugshot. "Aaron Davis, age thirty-three. He has a criminal record and an address here in Queens."

Peter and Ned glanced at each other. Ned said, "The protocols are disabled."

"Let's pay him a visit."

---

"So, what's this surprise you've been talking about?"

Tony's head shot up at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. He smiled, turning from where he'd been forcing some kitchen tools into a box to take in the woman as she stepped off of the elevator. She very much looked like she'd just come out of a meeting in sharp business slacks and an exhausted expression.

"Hey, Pep. How was...London?"

"Tokyo," she corrected, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "It was tiring. How's the packing?"

"Eh, boring," he said, kicking the box lightly and shoving his hands in his pockets. "So, anyway, I think that we should reconsider moving to the compound permanently."

"Tony, we just finished all the paperwork for the tower! And most floors have been packed by now, we can't just--"

"Not the tower. Just for us. Ever thought about a nice high-rise in Queens?"

Pepper stared at him, crossing her arms. "Queens? Since when have you ever cared about Queens?"

"Well, that's the surprise."

"The surprise is that you want to move to Queens?"

"No," Tony corrected, unable to stop his bright grin. "The surprise is that my soulmate lives in Queens."

It took a couple of seconds for that to register to Pepper. When it did, her eyebrows raised and she let out a smiled gasp. "You found him?"

Tony nodded. "Yep, just swinging around New York like a maniac."

"Swinging?"

"He's Spider-Man. Well, 'man's' a strong word. Here." He waved his hand, pulling up a screen that displayed Peter's yearbook photo. Pepper cooed at him. "Peter Parker. Top of his class at Midtown High by day, overly excited vigilante by night."

"He doesn't look like he could hurt a fly, never mind stop robberies. How'd he get his powers?"

"Forgot to ask, actually. He wasn't super excited to meet me at first, actually."

Pepper snorted. "Good. I'm glad he doesn't feed your ego."

"Hey! This is serious," he pouted.

"Uhuh." Pepper gave him another kiss on the cheek. "How'd you meet him?"

"Mugging. I bought him a hot chocolate."

"Hmm. I expected something stranger given your track record."

"He ran away."

"There it is," she said. "It's all good now, though?"

"Yeah..."

"Tony?"

He hesitated. "Peter lives at a group home, and I gotta say, not super fond of his foster father."

"Is he... Does he hurt Peter?" Pepper asked. He shrugged.

"Possibly. I gave Peter some money and the guy took it. Spent hundreds of dollars on liquor. And the kid's really thin. Jumpy, too. But there's nothing to prove right now."

"I'm surprised I didn't have our lawyer calling me to say you broke into a foster home and kidnapped a kid."

Tony shrugged, giving her a soft smile. "I don't need to break down the door to say hi to Peter. Besides, kid's wary, gets nervous easily. I don't want to scare him off by being too invasive about his home."

"Good on you for learning some boundaries, Tony," she congratulated before turning just a little more serious as she glanced at Peter's picture again. "You're sure he's alright?"

"No. But he's got a new superhero suit, a phone with me, Friday, and his own AI on speed dial, an unlimited credit card, and a badge to get into the tower. He's got resources if he needs them."

"Then let's just hope he doesn't need them."

---

Peter waited until the next day to find and interrogate Aaron Davis, more at Ned's insistence that they study for their Spanish quiz and to let his friend geek out over the suit than anything else. He'd stayed at his friend's house for as long as humanly possible, readily accepting whatever snack that Ned had pushed his way and going over notes that Karen gave him about Davis. It wasn't until the alarm he'd had Karen set that it was 9:40 went off did he leave.

Peter didn't like to impose on his friend so much, but Ned hadn't seemed to mind with the new addition of a supersuit and Mr. Stark being his soulmate, and the teenager couldn't help the way he was still avoiding Mr. Fowler like the plague. After leaving Mr. Stark's on Sunday and failing to stop a simple burglary, he'd hurried back to the group home, helping Eric with his homework and then cooping himself up in his room. He'd managed to avoid him the entire night and the next morning due to the man being passed out drunk in his room. Though he was still wracked with guilt at the fact that his foster father had stolen Mr. Stark's money on alcohol, he had to admit that it was at least useful.

Bidding goodnight to his friend, Peter slipped out of the apartment and hurried down onto the street where he joined the late night crowd as he made his way back to the group home. He popped his earbuds in and chose a song on his phone (that had an unlimited choice for him now, but he just stuck with his familiar Spotify playlists) as he rushed back to a place that he wished he could avoid for longer. Unfortunately, the curfew was final, so he made it back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys with five minutes to spare.

He stopped in front of the door as his hairs rose. Surprisingly, they didn't direct him towards the house, instead calling him to turn around. Peter glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of a man sitting at an apartment's steps a few buildings down. It was too dark to see his face, especially with the hat he wore pulled down low, but he looked just a little familiar. More than a little nervous, the teenager shook it off and stepped inside.

Mr. Fowler was waiting for him at the dining table. Peter paused, taking out his earbuds as Mr. Fowler turned to stare at him, chewing on a slice of pizza. For some reason, despite living in New York, the man was obsessed with frozen pizza. It was practically criminal, but Peter excused it as mind games since all the kids weren't allowed to eat any of it. Only a sociopath would eat exclusively frozen pizza in Queens.

"Pity. I was hoping you'd be late," Mr. Fowler frowned at Peter as he shuffled to a hesitant stop by the stairs. "Got another card for me?"

"No," Peter lied stiffly.

"What? No sugar daddy today?"

He knew better than to argue. "I hung out with Ned."

Mr. Fowler stared at him, but the travel agent was nothing if not a man of his word. Peter had been on time, so he waved the teenager on. Resisting the urge to scramble into the safety of his room, he whisked up the steep stairs and into the dark bedroom only lit by the lamp in the corner.

Tim was already asleep, but Jeremiah was sat on his bed going over what looked like a book report. The teenager paid Peter no mind as he dropped his bag onto the ground beside his bed and changed into a pajama shirt. He kept the hoodie on that Mr. Stark had given despite the warmth of the night as he slipped under his covers, bundling up in the reassuring fabric.

Peter didn't fall asleep for a while, grateful for the light provided by the lamp as he stared at the outline of Mr. Stark's shadow as though it were the only thing in the world. It might as well be for all he cared. Blocking out Mr. Fowler was quickly becoming a new necessity that was increasingly hard to do with the way his senses focused in on every little thing.

The entire house smelled of the man's alcohol, musty and strong and littered with the memories of a dark closet where even his shadow hadn't been able to comfort him. But the hoodie carried the fading scent of Mr. Stark that washed away his tired uneasiness, at least for the time being, and the shadow kept him preoccupied with one comforting thought. Out there, just across a bridge, was an adult who cared.

---

When Peter woke up, he felt off. He wasn't quite sure how to explain it, just that he knew the day was going to go wrong before it started. He wanted to curl up deeper into the hoodie that wrapped around him like a cocoon, but forced himself to push the covers off of himself and plant hit feet on the cold morning floor.

Jeremiah's bed was already empty, so Peter assumed that he'd already eaten and left with Eric, whose school started much earlier than everyone else's. Tim was still asleep, so Peter put on a pair of pants, grabbed his bag, and woke the kid up before knocking on the door of the other kids' room. He then headed downstairs and began putting together bowls of cereal for the kids that would be stumbling downstairs in a few minutes.

Mr. Fowler was in the kitchen, leaving the teenager to shuffle around him awkwardly as the man gave him a suspicious glare that he tried desperately to ignore. He left the kitchen as quickly as possible, placing the bowls down in the kids' usual spots and then taking up his own place to quickly scarf down a bowl of tasteless cereal. By the time he was finished, all the other kids had already stumbled downstairs and begun to eat.

Peter went along preparing their bags and then taking their bowls to the sink once they were done. He had just put the last dish in the dishwasher when the other boys at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys walked out the door, leaving him alone with Mr. Fowler. The man was staring at him with the same suspicious glare as he closed the pantry and then made to grab his backpack.

"Wait just a moment, Peter," Mr. Fowler said. Peter paused immediately, holding back a shiver at the danger in his tone.

"Sir?"

"There was a pack of granola bars missing from the pantry last night." The man glared at him, clearly waiting for a reaction, but Peter just stared at him, hesitant. Which kid had taken the bars? He hadn't seen anything off in their bags, unless Mr. Fowler had just miscounted, though that didn't happen often. "Anything to say to that, Peter?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, sir. I didn't take them."

"You didn't? I find that very hard to believe. How close are you to ending your grounding?"

"Three days, Mr. Fowler."

He tutted, standing up from his chair and stepping over to Peter. The teenager couldn't stop the way he froze, tensing up and squaring his shoulders as a large, meaty hand clamped down on one. Fingers curled over the thick fabric of his hoodie, pricking at his skin.

"Well, it would be a pity if it was extended longer. You're sure you didn't take anything?"

"Nothing, sir." The hand flashed to his hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling his head down and to the side with a pained grunt. Peter forced his breaths to steady even as tears pricked at his eyes. "I didn't take anything, Mr. Fowler, I promise!"

"Then you've wasted my time, son. Do you know what makes up for lost time?"

"Wha-what? Sir."

"A bit of hard cash." Peter noticed the way the man's hand trembled. "That card was nice for the weekend, but I'm afraid I'm running a little low. Got anything else for me?"

His thoughts flashed to the newly activated card sitting in his wallet, tucked safely in his hoodie pocket. He could just give it up and walk away. Mr. Fowler would be happy and Peter could go to school, safe and sound.

Steely eyes met Mr. Fowler's impossibly strained ones. "No. I don't have any other money."

The fist let go of his hair, throwing him back. Peter caught himself in a stumble as Mr. Fowler looked at him in disgust.

"Fine," the man rasped. "Extend your grounding until next week, then. Now get to school before I'm forced to call you in an excuse."

Peter mumbled out a grated, "Yes, sir," before stumbling out the door. Instead of making his way to school, he stumbled into the nearest alleyway. The teenager sucked in a deep breath, cursing himself for the tears biting at his eyes and the panic choking his throat. He was fine. Nothing had happened. He was completely fine. It wasn't like the extension of his grounding even mattered, Peter had money to buy food when he needed it. Everything. Was. Fine.

But Peter wasn't fine. He was choking on air and stumbling on panic as he slid down a grimy alleyway wall, unable to even begin to calm down. He didn't know why he was even freaking out so bad, Mr. Fowler had only pulled his hair, but the revival of the strong smell of liquor and the closeness of the man's face to his was horribly haunting.

Peter pulled at his hair as he finally managed to wheeze in a breath, staring desperately at the shadow in front of him. Mr. Stark's fluffy hair and tall shoulders seemed to stare back at him, almost reassuring. The teenager shoved his nose into the collar of his cardinal hoodie, taking in a deep breath to drown out Mr. Fowler.

It calmed him slightly.

But not quite enough.

With chattering teeth, Peter pulled his bag off of his shoulder and tore the suit out of it. With no hesitation, he took off his clothes and stepped into the suit. Karen greeted him instantly.

"Good morning, Peter. Shouldn't you be heading to school?"

"Uh, no, no. Not today, Karen. That man, Aaron Davis? Where is he right now?"

A path was highlighted on his screen.

---

"Remember me?"

Peter's voice was almost hilariously unnatural, but the man at the car stumbled back, so he guessed it worked. He thundered forward to where Aaron Davis was trying to stumble away from his car but was pulled back by the web sticking to the open hood.

"Uh, hey..."

"I need information. You're gonna give it to me now," Peter demanded half-heartedly, the enhanced interrogation mode making his voice much angrier. Maybe it was better than he thought.

"All right, chill," Davis placated.

"Come on!"

Davis paused, staring at him in confusion. Peter tried not to shuffle on his feet. "What happened to your voice?"

Crap.

"What do you mean, what happened to my voice?"

"I heard you by the bridge. I know what a girl sound like," Davis deadpanned.

"I'm not a girl! I'm a boy," Peter protested, quickly moving to correct himself. "I mean, I'm a--I'm a man."

"I don't care what you are, a boy, a girl..." the man trailed off with a shrug, continuing to load his car with groceries.

"I'm not a girl! I'm a man," he protested again. "Come on, man. Look, who is selling these weapons? I need to know. Give me names--or else."

Davis slammed the trunk shut and Peter flinched back on instinct. The man flashed him a teasing smile, shaking his head.

"You ain't ever done this before, huh?"

"Deactivate interrogation mode," Peter said sullenly. Davis huffed in amusement, shaking his head again. "Look, man, these guys are selling weapons that are crazy dangerous. They can't just be out on the streets. Look, if one of them can just cut Delmar's bodega in half..."

Davis, not paying attention in the slightest, looked up, regarding him in slight interest. "You know Delmar's?"

"Yeah, best sandwich in Queens," he shrugged.

"Sub Haven's pretty good."

"It's too much bread."

"I like bread."

"Come on, man, please," the teenager begged one last time. Davis stared at him, unresponsive, so with a dramatic throw of his hands, Peter began to walk away. "Stupid interrogation mode. Karen, don't ever do that again."

"The other night," Aaron started. Peter turned around to look at him. "You told that dude, "if you shoot somebody, shoot me." It's pretty ballsy. I don't want those weapons in this neighborhood. I got a nephew who live here.

Tentatively, Peter stepped back over, catching sight of the man's shadow. It was smaller, clearly a boy with a tall afro.

"Who are these guys? What can you tell me about the guy with the wings?"

"Other than he's a psychopath dressed like a demon, nothing. I don't know who he is or where he is." Peter sighed, leaning his head on the car roof. He was never going to prove to Mr. Stark he was worthy of being his soulmate when he couldn't even find the vulture guy. Aaron offered, "I do know where he's gonna be."

Peter perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah, this crazy dude I used to work with, he's supposed to be doing a deal with him."

"Yes!" Peter exclaimed, beginning to step away in giddiness. "Yes. Thank--"

"Hey, hey, hey," Aaron called. Peter stopped. "I didn't tell you where. You don't have a location."

Peter flushed bright red, making his way back to the car in embarrassment. "Right, of course. Yeah, my bad. Silly. Just...Yeah. Where is it?"

"Can I give you some advice?" Peter hummed. "You got to get better at this part of the job."

"I don't understand. I'm intimidating."

He crossed his arms, but Aaron only shook his head again.

"Staten Island ferry, eleven."

"Oh, that's soon," Peter realized. He began to walk away, pointing a finger at where the man's hand was webbed. "Hey, that's gonna dissolve in two hours."

"No, no, no, no. Come fix this."

"Two hours. You deserve that."

"I got ice cream in here."

"You deserve that. You're a criminal! Bye, Mr. Criminal!!"

---

Tony clapped his hands together in an attempt to dust them off as he stared around the packaged remains of his lab. Scribbled formulas and problems had been wiped clean from boards, tables folded and disassembled, and prototypes all packed into boxes ready to be loaded onto the plane in a few days time. Most of what was left in his workplace was personal items and two encased Iron Man armors.

"How we looking on time, Fri?" he asked, grabbing his mug from where he'd placed it on the counter earlier and taking a sip.

"Packing for the move to the compound is on schedule, boss," the AI responded.

"Great," he said, smacking his lips at the comforting bitterness of his coffee, "How's the search for a Queens apartment going?"

"I have several different listings placed into the Itsy Bitsy Spider folder for you to look at."

"Great. Forward them to Pepper."

"Of course, sir."

Satisfied with the prospective of flipping through apartment listings closer to Peter in the evening, he glanced down at his shadow, frowning at the lack of fluffy hair there. It was Tuesday, wasn't it? He checked his watch for the time. Barely eleven. He was pretty sure Peter should be in school by now.

"Friday, is the spider-suit active?"

"Yes, sir."

He frowned harder. "Activate the Baby Monitor Protocol, I want to see what's going on."

"That protocol has been disabled, sir."

"What?"

The AI was silent for a moment before responding, "It has been disabled, along with many others. The only way to reinstate them would be manually."

Tony glanced down at his shadow again. Surely the kid wasn't messing with the suit? And especially not the protocols to keep him safe? And he'd skipped school, too.

"Call Peter."

---

Peter peered over the top of the ferry roof at the men gathering below, who practically screamed shady. He kept an eye on Dronie's recording, the small robot keeping an eye on the other two guys up on the ferry, while Karen highlighted the men below.

"Who’s the guy on the left?" he asked, his spine shivering as he looked at the man.

"Mac Gargan. Extensive criminal record, including homicide. Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark?"

"What? No. I've got this, Karen."

One of the men that Peter had seen at the bridge approached Gargan. Peter could easily pick up his muttered. "White pickup truck."

Gargan nodded at one of his crones, who immediately began walking into the inside of the ferry holding the cars.

"Dronie," Peter whispered. "Scan the ship for a white pickup truck."

He watched the footage apprehensively as Dronie flew farther outside the ferry, x-raying the boat to pick out the truck inside. The robot then zipped over to it, beginning to scan the contents covered in the trunk but flying away and back to Peter as a man stepped out the front. His leg bounced nervously as the robot settled back in his chest, his heart beating erratically.

"Oh, this is too perfect," Peter said. "I got the weapons, buyers, and sellers all in one place."

"Incoming call from Tony Stark."

"No, no, no. No, no, don’t answer."

Despite his protests, the screen of his suit was swept away as Mr. Stark filled his screen. Peter tried not to grimace, keeping a careful eye on the men below even as the billionaire began to speak.

"Mr. Parker. Got a sec?" Mr. Stark greeted with a tight smile.

"Uh, I’m actually at school," Peter lied, ignoring Karen's correction in his ear. "I gotta get back to class, Mr. Stark, so--"

"What class?"

"Uhh--" Shit, what did he have at eleven? "Alge--"

The ferry's horn blared excruciatingly loudly. Peter resisted the urge to grimace, trying to keep an eye on the criminals below still.

"Band. I'm at, uh, band practice."

Mr. Stark stared at him, unimpressed. "That's...odd. You told me you quit band when you started swinging around as Spider-Man."

"I gotta go. Uh, end call."

"Hey," Mr. Stark protested, but the screen clicked close, allowing Peter to clearly see the people below once more. He flicked out a wrist, snapping a web onto a pair of keys being handed over.

"I’ll take those! Yoink!" He flipped, snatching the keys and webbing them to the ceiling. "Hey, guys. The illegal-weapons-deal-ferry was at 10:30. You missed it."

He webbed away the weapons from two guys quickly and threw them into the water. With a shiver up his spine, he ducked out of the way of the approaching man wearing the shocking gauntlet. The man's weaponized arm got stuck in the net on the ferry.

While he was distracted with the gauntlet guy, the other two he'd disarmed had scrambled to their feet, egging for a get away. Peter turned lackadaisically, webbing them

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast." He threw the two to the ground. "Are you guys okay? My bad. That was a little hard. I gotta say the other guy was way better with that thing. I’m honestly, I’m, I’m shocked."

This was going super well.

---

Peter let out a short scream of pain, suspended between the two crumbling halves of the ferry. His arms burned as he gripped at the webs fruitlessly, but he refused to let go. He could hear their heartbeats, fast and afraid and exactly like his own. The teenager panted, straining harder than he ever had before only to continue to fail. The ferry wasn't coming back together, his webs hadn't done anything, and the entire ship was going to fall apart.

And yet he refused to let go, even as he felt his arms tear painfully. He cracked his eyes open, searching desperately for his shadow. It was currently lost in the waves crashing underneath as cars piled into the rushing water. There was a moment, so quick he almost missed it, where a car hood stayed still long enough just for him to make out the shadow.

Of an Iron Man armor.

There was a metal groaning and an easing on his shoulders. Peter looked away from his shadow.

"What the hell?" With the ferry putting itself together, the teenager let himself drop onto the ferry floor, arm raised in fearful apprehension as the sound of metal colliding echoed around the entire boat. "What the hell..."

Mr. Stark in the Iron Man armor rose into view at the windows. Despite the fact that he was wearing a mask, it was easy to tell he looked angry. Or, hopefully, he was reading too much into it and the suit was just mean looking.

"Hi, Spider-Man. Band practice, was it?"

Nope. He sounded mad too. Peter had to force down a shiver, ignoring the clapping people and swinging to the cargo hold as Mr. Stark flew under it, beginning to piece the ship back together. He followed anxiously on the ceiling, turmoil sitting heavy in his stomach as he followed the man.

"Uh, Mr. Stark?" he called nervously. He continued to skitter after the man as he flew up to the ferry's top, trying to catch the man's attention even as he continued to ignore the teenager. "Hey, Mr. Stark. Could I do anything? What do you want me to do?"

"I think you’ve done enough."

Peter couldn't even bear to look at his shadow.

---

"So that’s it, you’re just gonna run?" Adrian asked as Schultz approached with his overflowing duffle bag.

"Feds were waiting for us. Now we’re on Iron Man’s radar? Yeah, I’m running. You should, too."

"You know I can’t do that," Toomes said, glancing down at the shadow of his wife.

"So now what?" Schultz shrugged. Adrian rubbed at his chin.

"Mason, can you get that high-altitude seal thing up and running in time?"

"Seriously?" the engineer asked, comically giddy despite how hilariously screwed they all were. "Yes. You will not regret this."

Adrian turned back to Schultz. "You in?"

The man glanced down on the floor, contemplative. "If we get caught, we're dead. And we have days before that plane takes off. We'll be caught before then. Stark will get us, you know that."

"So we take care of Stark."

"Take care of Stark? You're crazy. How the hell are we gonna to kill Iron Man?"

Adrian thought for a moment, thoughts creeping back to the night over the lake; a defensive boy and an over-eager man and matching shadows. Peter Parker, as had been reported by one of his men following the kid. He even went to Liz's school, on her academic team and everything. He hurt a little to do this, but nothing was more important than family.

"We don't need to kill Stark," Adrian responded. "We just need to insure his compliance."

---

Tony finally spotted the kid sitting on the edge of the building, his legs thrown over the side, his mask torn off his face as he stared down at the water. The bulky outline of the Iron Man armor extended behind him, an imposing figure compared to the hunched and shivering kid. The sound of sirens and helicopters rang in the distance, only feeding fuel to the fire that was his anger. It had been two days since he'd given Peter the suit and he'd already hacked it, lied to him, and endangered the lives of more than a hundred people. He'd taken Tony's tech and ran with it, doing what the man had warned the teenager not to do, and almost gotten himself killed too.

It terrified him just as much as it infuriated him.

"Previously on Peter Screws the Pooch," Tony started, hovering next to Peter's spot on the building. "I tell you to stay away from this. Instead, you hacked a multimillion-dollar suit so you could sneak around behind my back doing the one thing I told you not to do."

"Is everyone okay?" Peter rasped.

"No thanks to you."

He clunked down on the ground, but Peter barely even looked at him, just grasping the mask in his fingers tighter. After a tense moment, the kid turned to glare at him, a sour look on his face.

"What do you care?"

The question almost shocked Tony from his anger, but the fury managed to cling on as the suit opened, allowing for him to step out. There was a defensive flicker on Peter's face, washed away as quickly as it came, at the stiff anger glued to his figure.

"What do I care?" he echoed incredulously. "Who the hell gave you the suit that you're wearing right now? The one that you used to go fight people you weren't ready to fight. Peter, you're not prepared for this--"

"I didn't see you doing anything."

"Who do you think called the FBI, huh?" Tony demanded.

"And they got their asses kicked immediately!"

"And you did what exactly?"

Peter swallowed. A soft, angry mumble shivered from his chest. "I just wanted to be like you."

Tony glowered. "And I wanted you to be better."

Peter didn't have an answer to that, turning away with a sharp flinch to stare down at the water again where the ferry was finally beginning to dock. His face was scrunched up in cold anger. Tony stared at him, waiting, but the teenager didn't do anything. Didn't say anything. With an indignant sniff, Tony glanced between the approaching boat of people and the kid sitting stiffly in front of him.

"Okay, it’s not working out. I’m gonna need the suit back."

That caught Peter's attention. His head whipped around and he finally swiveled off of the building's edge, standing to face him. The defensiveness was back in full force now, broken only by a shiver of fear in the tremble on his face.

The teenager swallowed. "For how long?"

"Forever." Peter gaped at him, shaking his head. Tony hit him with a withering expression. "Yeah. Yeah, that’s how it works."

"No, no, no... Please, please, please..." the kid rushed, his voice pitching higher.

"Let’s have it."

"You don’t understand. Please. This is all I have. I’m nothing without this suit."

"If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it." Tony stopped in his demand, pausing to stare into the distance under the guise of letting Peter absorb his words but really choking down his own panic and regret. This was how he was treating his soulmate. He hadn't known this kid for a week and he'd had maybe two successful conversations with him. And now he was yelling and bringing down and punishing. "God, I sound like my dad."

Peter stared at him, swallowing. "Mr. Stark, please I don't want you to g--"

"The suit. Peter."

He could barely even look at the kid's completely dejected expression.

---

Peter meandered down the street, his head down as he forced himself to bite down on tears. It wasn't that hard, he'd had a lot of practice recently after all, but he couldn't deny that it hurt. Well, he could, but not to himself.

With the loss of the suit, Peter's bag was considerably lighter. Empty. It was disturbingly similar to how he felt in the moment, like a stumbling shell of a person.

He'd fucked up. He knew he had. But he didn't think he'd fucked up enough to lose his soulmate. He'd just--he'd just wanted to try and impress Mr. Stark, to show the man that he was worthy of being the shadow that had followed the superhero--his hero--around for fifteen years. He huffed to himself quietly at the horrible irony of it all.

After Mr. Stark had demanded to the suit, well, Peter had given it to him. He hadn't had much other choice. The man had allowed for him to go grab the bag he'd webbed to an alleyway earlier and change into his clothes. Choking down panicked tears, the teenager had folded up the barely used suit, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped the card, the phone, and the badge given to him into the mask. He wanted to have given him the red hoodie too, but it was the only top he'd had, so he'd reluctantly kept it. He'd given the stuff that was no longer his to the still seething Avenger and had left. Mr. Stark hadn't ask where he was going, so he hadn't told him.

Not that Peter was amazingly sure he knew himself. He didn't want to go back to where Mr. Fowler was surely working from home. Peter was supposed to be at school, the man would be furious that he hadn't gone, and he didn't have the courage to face him right now. The ghosted feeling of a hand tugging at his hair and painful nails in his shoulder was enough to keep him wandering the streets of Queens for as long as he possibly could.

There wasn't a destination, there was barely even a journey, there was just the tired wanderings of a teenager trying desperately not to break down crying. Part of him wished he'd kept the phone, just so he could text Ned, or even lose himself mindlessly on social media for an hour or two, but Mr. Stark's words rang clearly in his head.

"Forever."

Peter shook himself vigorously, taking a wispy breath. Of course he would lose his soulmate not even a week after meeting him. Everyone else had left too, it really only made sense.

He didn't know why he'd let himself hope.

"I don't want you to go."

A painfully strong shiver up his spine forced the teenager to stop in the middle of the alleyway he'd been cutting through. Peter pulled back his sleeve, brows furrowing as the hairs on his arm rose on end. Without his phone, or the watch kept on his webshooter, the teen had no way of knowing what time it was, but it had to have been at least half an hour since Mr. Stark had taken the suit. Since he'd caused a gun to split a ferry full of innocent bystanders in half.

"And I wanted you to be better."

Peter had assumed his senses had continued to freak out from the resounding adrenaline and the complete rush of panic that had been today--from the horribleness of it all--but they still weren't calming down.

Jittery, he turned to leave the alleyway back the way he came, but there was a man blocking his way. He froze when he recognized him and the glitching gauntlet on his arm. From the bridge and the ferry. The man stalked forward.

Peter whipped around to escape towards the other end, but another man stood there as well, a different alien weapon in his hands. Peter paused again, eyes shifting desperately for an escape even as the weapon behind him charged up with a threatening snap.

"Give it up, kid," ordered the man. "Come easy, and we won't hurt you."

"Wow. So reassuring," Peter snapped. Without warning, the teenager leaped, jumping onto the wall as high as he could reach. He attempted to begin skittering up the wall, but there was another spike in his senses.

There was no time to dodge as he was encased by an annoyingly familiar blue light that crashed him to the ground straight into a gathering of trashcans. He groaned in pain as he collided with the metal, the cans tipping over and releasing their contents near and on him. There were footsteps, and he tried to push himself back up, but the man with the gauntlet approached quicker than he could recover.

The teenager stared up at him as the man smirked. The gauntlet cracked.

"Nighty-night."

Peter could only close his eyes as a metal fist came crashing down.

---

~Click for better quality~

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker #you would not BELIEVE the amount of time i spent on the stupid thing peter is sitting on #idk who designed that #but fuck them

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thathopelessromantic · 3 years

Text

Reckless Good (3/?)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Fic Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Teen+

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku

Note: Thanks so much for the great response so far! And if you haven’t already, please check out some of the other great pieces for the TDDK Big Bang this year!

Todoroki Shouto had accepted his fate as a public figure when he became a pro-hero, but there are some parts of his private life he would like to stay private. When he gets invited to be a speaker in a college lecture series, he goes to the meeting with one goal: to give the coordinator a piece of his mind and finally put an end to people hounding him for information about his family.

The last thing he expects is the curious, and quirkless, hero- and quirk-study professor, Midoriya Izuku, who has no interest in his family’s history, and, somehow, even more ties to the hero industry than Shouto. Intrigued by the professor, Shouto tentatively agrees to the lecture series, unknowingly intertwining their futures.

But the more Todoroki sees of Midoriya, the more questions he has. When a villain attack leaves them living together until the culprits are apprehended, maybe he’ll finally get some answers.

AO3: (x) Chapter One: (X) Chapter Two: (X)

Shouto is, regrettably, not unfamiliar with the process of checking into the hospital, or the protocols in the burn unit, but things seem to go surprisingly quick with a doctor at his side, explaining not only the extent of his injury but the cause. Just a few moments after they’ve arrived, Shouto is whisked away from Dr. Midoriya and Kou to have his burn cleaned and dressed. They run the usual battery of tests, poke him for blood what feels like a dozen times, and after about half a dozen reassurances to various doctors and nurses that, yes, he does know how to care for a burn at home, he’s told he might be able to go home later that night.

The room he’s put in is, admittedly, one of the nicer hospital rooms that he’s visited. It’s part of a private wing made specifically for pro-heroes to get a little peace from fans and the media while recovering, but it doesn’t make him hate it any less. He’s only been alone in the room for twenty minutes or so, but he’s already contemplating a prison break. Let Momo handle the paperwork for his unconventional discharge on her next day at the office and call it good. But the risk of being put on some extra mandatory leave is too great. His doctor and Momo have been on his case about taking care of himself properly for months now and they’d love any excuse to bench him for a few extra weeks, instead of the couple of days he’ll need for the burn to heal enough that he can cover it securely and get back to work.

There’s a short knock on the door. Shouto starts to mentally prepare himself for another argument with a doctor when the door inches open and Kou peeks in. Surprised, Shouto waves to her. Kou smiles back, turning to motion at someone behind her. A moment later the door opens the rest of the way and Kou rushes in, followed by Dr. Midoriya.

“Dr. Midoriya and I are on a secret adventure.” Kou announces in a whisper. There’s a Uravity-themed spacesuit sticker on her cheek and she looks as if she’s recovered from the evening’s events, but her clothes have been replaced by a colorful hospital gown and fuzzy bathrobe.

Dr. Midoriya hasn’t changed his clothes, but he has a white lab coat on over top.

“Oh? What is your secret adventure?” Shouto asks. He shifts to the side and makes room for Kou to climb onto the bed besides him.

“Visiting you!” She announces, happily. “It’s a secret because I’m not supposed to leave the quirk ward, but Dr. Midoriya snuck me out. This is for you. Dr. Midoriya said you were friends!” She pulls two more stickers out of a pocket in her robe and hands them to him; a music note that says Earphone Jack and a nesting doll in Creati’s costume.

“Thank you,” Shouto says genuinely, though he has no idea what he’s going to do with the stickers. But his mind is distracted by Kou’s other words. The quirk ward? Obviously there was a reason the villains had targeted the girl, but that detail had gotten buried in the chaos of everything else. Now he’s reminded of the villain’s words…something about her being the key.

He looks up but Dr. Midoriya meets his eye with a subtle shake of his head.

Shouto lets the subject drop for now, but he’s determined to stay a part of this investigation. He’ll get his answers eventually.

Turning back to Kou, he tries a hesitant smile. “Would you still like that autograph?”

Her whole being lights up. “Really?” She reaches into the pocket of her robe again only for her face to drop. “Oh. I forgot my notebook.”

Dr. Midoriya taps her on the shoulder, holding out a small, heart-shaped notepad and a glittery gel pen.

Kou gasps, taking the items from him with excited thanks. She flips through the notebook quickly looking for a blank page, and Shouto is surprised by how many signatures she’s already amassed. Satisfied with the location, she hands the notebook and pen to him. She’s practically vibrating in excitement as he writes a quick note to her, trying to make it sound a little more personal than his usual scribbled signature.

Just as Shouto finishes his note, there’s another knock on the door. Yet another doctor steps into the room, reading through something in a folder. Her long, silver hair is draped over her shoulder in a thick braid and there’s a sharp horn coming out of her forehead. She seems faintly familiar to Shouto but he can’t place why he would recognize her. At the very least he doesn’t think he’s ever had her as a doctor before. She stops in her tracks when she sees Dr. Midoriya and Kou gathered around his hospital bed.

“Izuku!” she scolds, crossing her arms over her chest.

It takes Shouto a moment to remember Izuku is Dr. Midoriya’s first name. He glances up at him.

Dr. Midoriya leans close to Kou, covering his mouth with one hand to stage whisper to her. “I think we got caught.”

Kou copies him with a quiet giggle. “Oops.”

Shouto closes her notebook carefully and slides it across the bed. Kou covertly slips it into her robe.

“What are you even doing here?” The new doctor asks, exasperated. There’s no way she didn’t hear the two of them whispering, but she seems to be ignoring it.

“Kou just wanted to thank Entropy for saving her!” Dr. Midoriya insists, apparently choosing to take no blame in their “secret adventure.”

“Dr. Aizawa has a quirk kind of like mine,” Kou tells Shouto in a hushed voice while the two doctors argue. “She and Dr. Midoriya are really nice. And funny.”

Dr. Aizawa makes it all click. The light hair and the horn. She was the same little girl Aizawa had adopted during Shouto’s first year.

“We were just leaving, Dr. Aizawa!” Kou chimes in suddenly, sliding off the bed and grabbing Dr. Midoriya’s hand. “Bye!”

Dr. Aizawa shakes her head as Dr. Midoriya is pulled out of the room by a girl a quarter his size. “This isn’t over just because you have a patient protecting you, Izuku.”

Dr. Midoriya sends a bright smile back at her just as the door closes on the two of them.

“I hope they weren’t bothering you too much,” Dr. Aizawa says as she comes over to Shouto’s bed.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m glad I got to see her again. I was worried she’d be a little more upset after everything.”

“Kou’s a strong girl. She’s going to be okay.” Dr. Aizawa says with certainty. “Anyways, I’m Aizawa Eri, I’m part of the hero staff here.”

“Aizawa, er...Eraserhead’s daughter, right?”

Dr. Aizawa smiles and it looks so shockingly like Dr. Midoriya’s, Shouto can’t help but wonder about what their connection to each other is. Especially with how casually she spoke to him. Could they be related? It seems like he would have known if his homeroom teacher had also had or adopted a son his age, wouldn’t he? “That’s right, you were one of his students! Nice to see you again.”

Shouto bows his head in acknowledgement. He knows he met the young girl Aizawa adopted a few times, but his memories of her are fuzzy at best.

Dr. Aizawa checks him over again, asking him a few questions about how he’s feeling and what’s been done already. Finally, she gets to why she’s here to see him. “I’m not sure if you would remember, but my quirk is Rewind. It’s delicate but helpful for healing, especially for many pros. If you remember about how long ago you were burned, I should be able to heal your arm so that you can get back to work without too much fuss.”

“Really?”

Dr. Aizawa nods. “I can rewind your body back to before it happened, but it will rewind your whole body so the closer to the exact time it happened the better, otherwise too many things could change. Do you have a good idea of when it happened?”

“What time is it now?”

Dr. Aizawa glances at her watch. “Almost ten.”

Shouto is briefly surprised by that information. He hadn’t realized how long he had been in the hospital already. “I left the agency after the first alerts came in around 6:30, so it was probably around 7 that I made contact with the villain. I can’t be more exact than that, unfortunately.”

“That should work alright. Would you like to be rewound, or would you prefer to let it heal naturally?”

Shouto shakes his head. Anything to speed up the process. “No, please rewind it if you can.”

She smiles. “Okay, it will be just a moment then.”

Dr. Aizawa pulls on a pair of gloves and takes his arm in her hands, gently, mindful of the injury and the loose bandages protecting it.

A moment later the horn at her temple begins to glow, Shouto has to look away as the warm light grows brighter and then, just like that, it’s over. When he looks back at the doctor, her horn has shrunk a little, losing some of the sharp edge at the top.

“Okay! You should be good to go. How does it feel?”

Shouto moves his arm a few times, relieved that there’s no pain as he moves it. Carefully he peels off the bandages. It looks as if he was never injured, not even a small scar left behind.

Dr. Aizawa looks pleased with the results. “Perfect. Unfortunately it doesn’t work on non-living things so you will have to have your costume repaired separately.”

“That’s fine,” Shouto says. He was more worried about being forced to take some sick leave than repairing his costume to begin with. “Thank you.”

Dr. Aizawa smiles again. “Of course. I’m happy to help.” She pulls a few papers out of her folder and hands them to him. “If you are ready, you can take these to the desk out front and you’ll be discharged.”

Shouto hesitates as he takes the papers from her. An hour ago he was ready to run at the first chance, but now…she was someone who might have some answers…

“Kou mentioned that the two of you had similar quirks,”

“I’m sorry. If you become a part of the investigation I’m sure you’ll find out more information, but for now I can’t disclose a patient’s information.” Dr. Aizawa says before he can even finish figuring out exactly what he wants to ask.

“Right. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I don’t blame you for being curious, not after everything that’s happened.”

Dr. Aizawa looks ready to leave, but there’s one more thing Shouto has to ask. At least while he still has a chance.

“Can I ask about Dr. Midoriya, then?”

Dr. Aizawa stops with a puzzled look. “Izuku? What about him?”

Shouto's mind goes blank. Everything doesn’t seem like a plausible response. At least not one that would get him anywhere. “Uh, I…I was just surprised to hear you call him Izuku. Are you close?”

Dr. Aizawa studies him for a long time as if she could determine whatever ulterior motives he had for asking just by staring him down. Maybe she could if even he knew what he was doing asking these questions.

“I’ve known Izuku for a long time,” she finally says. “He’s like family.”

The answer is careful, guarded. With the slightest undertone of a threat.

“…Right.” Shouto replies awkwardly. “Thank you.”

Dr. Aizawa inclines her head to him. “Have a nice night, Entropy.”

After checking out with Dr. Aizawa’s discharge papers, Shouto heads back to the agency. Sunspot practically tackles him in the lobby.

“Entropy! You’re okay! I thought you were just going to check on the kidnapped civilian, but then Ingenium told me his friend was taking you to the hospital and that I had nothing to worry about so I should just go back to the agency but I didn’t know why you were going to the hospital or what was happening,” she stutters over her words for a moment, taking a breath. “Was it okay to leave? I didn’t know what else to do but I didn’t know what hospital you went to or why. Were you injured? You don’t look hurt. Is that how you damaged your costume?”

Shouto lets her run on while he goes to his office. He knows she’ll follow. And that it’s pointless to try and get a word in until she runs out of breath.

Sunspot sinks into one of his office chairs as he goes to turn his computer on. He lifts a brow at her slumped form in the armchair.

“Are you done?”

She opens her mouth to speak again but after a moment shuts it again and nods.

“The villain who took the hostage burned me. I hadn’t realized the extent of the injury until later. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you personally so that you knew it was okay to come back, but it was fine that you came back. It wasn’t serious.” Shouto explains calmly. “You said Ingenium told you to come back?” Shouto thinks back to Dr. Midoriya texting in the ambulance and he wonders if the two know each other.

Sunspot nods again. “He came and found me and told me a friend was taking you to the hospital. I assumed he meant one of the paramedics. I didn’t know he was friends with the paramedics. Was that part of U.A. training? Getting to know first-responders closely? Or just a coincidence?”

“I think it’s just a coincidence on Ingenium’s part. Not something you’re missing out on.” Shouto says. “You did good tonight. Go home and get some rest.”

“But-”

Shouto gestures to her before she can argue. “You expended a lot of your reserve helping the rescue crews with civilians trapped under the rubble and then helping me melt the ice. It’s okay.”

Sunspot looks down at herself. The faint glow she normally gives off as a result of having excess energy saved up by her quirk is almost completely extinguished. At the late hour, she wouldn’t be able to get any more energy even if they needed to go out into the field again. Not until the sun was up again.

Sunspot pushes herself out of the chair. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help tonight.” She says with a short bow.

Shouto waves her off. “It’s okay.”

“Good night, Entropy.”

“Good night, Sunspot. Good work tonight.” Shouto says. He catches just a glimpse of her relieved smile as his office door closes quietly behind her.

Alone, Shouto settles into his desk chair, already mentally preparing for a long night. He considers going against doctor’s orders and getting some coffee but just barely resists the temptation. Caffeine might end up making him too jittery to focus and this is important. Writing up a more in-depth report of the event for the police and the agency records is the first priority of the night. But after that, Shouto has some research to do.

Momo finds him like that in the morning. Sometime in the night the combination of the late hour and bright computer screen got to him and he went in search of his rarely-worn glasses to take some of the stress off. His final report and the accompanying paperwork are tucked in a folder for safe keeping, but the rest of his desk is a disaster zone of scattered pages, printed news reports of the attack last night with any information he might have missed, any police reports on the matter he could get his hands on with his current clearance, his own compiled notes.

He doesn’t even realize someone else is in the office with him until Momo clears her throat, placing a paper to-go cup of tea in the middle of his desk, on top of the latest piece he’s reading.

“Shouto,” she says seriously, crossing her arms over her chest. “ When did you last take a break?”

Shouto tries to come up with an answer but his brain is fuzzy at best, street names and potential identities floating at the forefront of his consciousness. “Uh, what time is it?”

Momo sighs, rubbing at her temple with one hand. “ Go home, Shouto.”

“I just need to-"

“No.” Momo comes around the other side of his desk, pulling him up and out of his desk chair by one arm. “It’s almost eight o'clock. You need to go home and go to bed.”

Momo might have had a point, his shift was supposed to end at six that morning and he hadn’t even noticed the time, but he digs his heels in, resisting being dragged from the office to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, Momo is stronger than she looks, and has the advantage of a full-night’s sleep on him.

“Go home. Go to sleep. Don’t come back until Saturday.”

“But-”

“You were injured! You should have called me as soon as you were taken to the hospital,” Momo scolds.

“I got better.”

Momo looks at him curiously. She comes to a stop, scanning him over. Shouto’s sure he looks a mess, still half-dressed in his damaged hero-suit, the top unzipped and tied around his waist. His hair has started to escape the braid he had it in for work and he can see the loose hair floating in his peripheral vision. Not to mention how exhausted he probably looks after spending the whole night scouring the police database. But – he’s not injured.

“What do you mean you ‘got better’? You weren’t really injured?”

Shouto sighs. “No, I was. There was a doctor at the hospital with a quirk who fixed it. Aizawa’s daughter, actually.”

Momo’s brows shoot up in surprise. “I didn’t realize she became a doctor. That’s wonderful.” She pauses. “But not the point. You still should have called someone. Though I suppose I should be grateful you went to get help, at all.”

Shouto rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well…there was a doctor on the scene when I was talking to the girl who was targeted who saw my burn.”

“A doctor?”

“Uh…Dr. Midoriya.” Shouto explains. He isn’t sure if Momo will recognize the name, not entirely sure if he wants her to remember or not.

“The professor from the lecture series?” Momo asks in surprise. “What was he doing there?”

“Apparently he’s not just a professor.”

Momo studies him for a few moments, trying to figure something out. Shouto doesn’t blame her. He’d like some answers about his behavior too. He just hopes she comes to an easy conclusion, like Shouto cooperated with Dr. Midoriya because he sort-of knew him, and not anything else ridiculous. Or revealing. Or uncomfortable.

Finally, Momo shakes her head, brushing off whatever conclusions she may have come to. “I don’t care. Go home. Sleep. Eat something. I’ll finish submitting your reports to the police and I’ll make sure they know you are interested in joining the case searching for the villains who escaped last night, but other than talking to anyone who contacts you about the case, I don’t want to hear about you working again until this weekend.”

Shouto wants to keep arguing, he’s not even hurt anymore, but he knows this is the best he’s going to get from her. He is also unbelievably grateful for all the years they’ve known each other and how Momo knows exactly what he needs to hear to relax, even just a little. “Okay. Thank you.”

Momo nods. “We’ll get whoever it is, Shouto. But you don’t have to do it alone. And you can’t do it in one night. So please take care of yourself. I’ll see you on Friday for dinner.”

Momo waves to an intern, instructing them to escort Shouto to the exit. Shouto wants to protest being babysat the rest of the way to the door, but Momo pins him with a hard look before he can even open his mouth and he lets it happen. Admittedly, now that he’s not pouring over his research to keep himself moving, he can feel exhaustion settling over him.

Though he could still find the way to the damn door himself.

Shouto stumbles into his dark apartment twenty minutes later. He leaves the lights off as he comes through the entrance. The morning sun has started to fill the front room with light, and its enough for him to make his way to the bedroom without tripping over anything. His bed is cool, the sheets still ruffled from the previous morning. Shouto just barely remembers to strip off his ruined hero-suit before he drops into the bed, using his left side to warm up the sheets quicker. In a minute, he’s asleep.

When he wakes again, warm golden light pours into the room from his half-open window. He runs a hand over his face, trying to will away the strange, disorienting feeling of waking up. He reaches to his bedside table, knocking a few things to the side until he connects with his alarm clock. Pulling it close, he squints at the lit screen. It was almost five in the afternoon. Shouto tosses the offending thing away. He takes just a few moments to reorient himself before he forces himself out of bed and into the shower.

He only remembers after stepping into the spray that half of his hair is still twisted into a braid. He swears as he tears the now-wet strands free of the stubborn rubber-band, tugging at the knots there unhappily. He doesn’t mean to stay in the shower for long, but after fighting with his hair for who knows how long, the heat and relaxing pound of the spray against his shoulders eases some of the tension from his body and he wastes time under the comforting water until it starts to run cold. The temperature change doesn’t bother him much, but he figures he’s wasted enough water like that and climbs out.

After drying off a little, Shouto brushes his teeth, and that, combined with washing off the grime of the previous day, helps make him feel a little more awake. A little more human.

Shouto dresses in casual civilian clothes. He finds his phone, dead, in a pocket of his hero-suit before tossing the ruined thing in a bag to give to the support team. They’ll probably just have to make him a new one, but he feels bad throwing it away without trying to salvage it.

His charger is plugged in near the bed, so he goes to grab it so he can charge his phone in the kitchen while he makes something to eat. But in fumbling around looking for the charger, he spots his forgotten glasses in the mess of sheets and pillows on his bed. The ear piece on the right side is bent at a strange angle and one of the lenses is cracked. Shit. Well, he supposes, that’s what he gets for wearing them for the first time in months while running on fumes. He tosses the damaged glasses on his side table and leaves for the kitchen.

Finally, he switches on a few lights.

His apartment is mostly bare, plain white walls with just a few basic pieces of furniture, mostly just there to fill the empty space. The occasional dirty glass or dish that gets left behind if he’s in a rush on his way to work are the only signs of the life in the otherwise dull place. Those, and the three picture frames hanging on the wall in his living room; one of his mother and siblings, one of his graduating class with their teachers mixed in with the colorful crowd, and one of the day he and Momo started their agency. They’re the only decoration he needs. They represent all the important people in his life.

There are a few containers of leftovers in the fridge, and while it would be easier to warm something up and leave it at that, Shouto takes the time to pull out some fresh ingredients. Washing off the vegetables and prepping them while rice cooks is a simple, familiar routine and it helps ground him.

He starts a simple stir fry with chicken just as his phone finally comes back to life, chiming with a number of missed notifications. Lowering the heat slightly, Shouto lets it simmer for a minute while he checks his phone.

A few of the notifications are basic news reports he usually dismisses, though today he saves any about last night’s attack incase there’s been any updated information. There are two texts from Momo asking if he got home safe and if he ate anything. He shoots of a quick reply to her, apologizing for not letting her know right away and reassuring her he’s making food now. He takes a picture of the pan and sends it as an after thought, just in case she doesn’t believe him. There are also a few texts from Kyouka telling him to stop worrying her wife and to stop being an idiot. He responds to those with a few choice emojis and nothing else. She’ll get the message.

Finally, he looks at the emails he missed. There’s one from an Officer Uchida he doesn’t recognize, confirming he (Momo) submitted the right paper work to join the case against the villains from the night before and once the task force has been officially formed he would be contacted with more information. Relieved, Shotuo saves the contact information and sets it as a priority so he’ll be sure to get any future notifications right away. The only other missed email is from Dr. Midoriya.

Shouto goes back to checking his food, stirring it for a few minutes and adding a few more ingredients. His attention goes back to his phone a few times, but he resists going back to it. He’s not sure why, he’s been waiting for this stupid email basically since he left the professor’s office, but suddenly he’s nervous about opening it. He’s not sure what to expect once he opens the list of the professor’s topics. What if he imagined all of this and the professor still wants him to talk about his family? What if Shouto can’t answer any of his questions about how his quirk works? Is it even a good idea for him to talk publicly about how his quirk works? Couldn’t someone use that against him?

Shouto turns his phone upside down, hiding the blinking notification.

He’ll look at it after he eats.

He finishes cooking a little while later. Scooping out a generous serving of rice into a bowl and getting a plate for the stir fry he settles in the living room. He has a perfectly good table he could eat at in the kitchen, but there’s something satisfying in breaking the rules and eating on the couch. Out in the open, casually. He hasn’t lived with his father since he was a first year, but he still takes satisfaction in all the ways he can defy him and the rules he kept in that house.

Shouto turns on the local news channel to watch while he eats. Unsurprisingly, the attack from last night is still the focus of the station. There’s a reporter discussing the widespread damage through downtown on the screen. In the background, heroes and clean up crews are still working to clear the rubble. Shouto recognizes Uravity’s bright pink costume amongst all the grey and black. She’s moving two giant pieces of concrete overhead, some kind of broken metal rods coming from one look particularly dangerous.

A scrolling banner runs across the bottom of the broadcast, asking anyone who might have information about the villains to call in to a hotline, and a separate call for anyone with quirks that might help in fixing the damage done to the roads. There are also short headlines for stories meant to air later that night and a small graphic with the weather.

The camera view changes suddenly and the report comes back into view with a police officer, answering questions about the attack.

What did they know about it? Not much yet, but they don’t think it was random.

Was anyone seriously injured? Thankfully most casualties were only minor injuries and the paramedics on scene took care of most of the civilians who were hurt.

Who were the villains? No one in particular. They don’t think this is an organized group starting attacks. Not like in the past. No one needs to worry.

All safe answers that tell them basically nothing about what happened. Shouto learned more in the two minutes he spent on the radio before pursuing the villain than the news report. He changes the channel. A talk show re-run is showing an old interview with Hawks. Shouto hesitates changing the channel again.

“So, Hawks, it’s no secret that you’ve been a fan of Endeavor’s basically since your debut, and the two of you made a good team as Number 1 and 2 for a while,” the interviewer says in a fake cheerful voice. Hawks gives a stiff smile, placating but revealing nothing about how he actually feels about the subject. “What are your thoughts on the rumors brewing about a civil trial after the allegations against Endeavor from his family?”

‘Tis the season.

Shouto clicks the TV off before Hawks can reply.

Not hungry anymore, Shouto puts his plate down. He ate most of what he had taken anyways. The rest will be fine for leftovers.

Getting up from the couch, Shouto goes back to the kitchen for his phone. The same ignored email is still waiting for him with that mocking, blinking notification light. Taking a deep breath, as if preparing for a fight, he opens it.

Entropy,

I hope you are doing better after Dr. Aizawa’s visit with you at the hospital. Sorry I couldn’t see you off. Here is the list of possible topics we discussed the other day. This is just an abbreviated list of some basic things to talk about. You can obviously go into more detail about anything that might interest you or that you think might be important information for anyone with two or dual quirks to consider.

Thank you for considering being a part of the Hero Talks Series.

Thank you, also, for your help with the attacks last night and with Kou.

Midoriya

Shouto isn’t sure what to focus on first. The dropped title from the professor’s name? Midoriya thanking him for doing his job of all things?

Making the executive decision to focus on none of them for the time being, Shouto opens the attached document with the lecture topics. Dr. Midoriya’s “abbreviated list" is still two pages long.

Somehow, it’s exactly what Shouto was expecting.

#bnha #mha #tododeku #tddk #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #tododeku big bang 2021 #fic #rita writes #6.24.21 #fic: reckless good

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tomtenadia · 4 years

Text

Island Dreams - Chapter 6

* Insert greeting here according to your time zone.*

So, chapter 6 is here. A bit of development fro our two idiots. Hope you like it.

I have chapter 7 and 8 down but they need heavy editing. Also, last night I was inspired and I did manage to plot the skeleton of the story, so I know exactly where I am going. There should be 28 chapters and an epilogue.

Well, I hope, in the meantime that you will enjoy this one.

Spot the HoF references :)

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The next day Rowan was back at work. He opened on time as usual and a couple of tourists came into the shop but left quite quickly. Probably not impressed by the lack of tacky touristy stuff. He was working on re-organising a shelf when the door opened and he was not ready to see again the person who crossed the threshold. “Hey you.” The woman smiled at him tenderly. Rowan forgot how to breath. Aelin had her hair in a braid and a straw hat on her head. A nice colourful shirt and then his gaze trailed south. She was wearing shorts and the sight of her long tanned legs almost killed him. It looked like Aelin was ready to go on a tropical beach to suntan and relax all day. She was a goddess. And she was in front of him. Smiling. “Back at you.” He said, getting up slowly, not trusting his legs. He felt he could faint anytime at the sight. “I am here for my book.” A timid smile appeared on his lips then his legs finally moved and did manage to cover the few steps taking him to the counter. He grabbed the book and handed it to her. He hesitated for a moment, as if to try and have a conversation but then decide against. What was he going to say anyway?

“Have fun.” That was the safest comment he could make. “I bet you are dying to know how it finishes.” Aelin grabbed the book quite eagerly and held it to her chest “Hell yeah. The fake queen has lost her marbles and she deserves to die. Painfully if possible. And I can’t believe that the main couple got separated, they are at the opposite extremes of the continent and that bastard of trusted member of her court told her, her lover was dead. And the plot twist at the end?” Rowan laughed. Actually laughed and for Aelin it was the most beautiful sound she ever heard. The smile reached his eyes and he was even more stunning. “Be ready for a lot of angst though.” Aelin dismissed him with her hand “I eat angst for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” They were talking. Not about what happened but he did not care. “Have you read The cursed kingdom?” “Of course.” “Well, if I survived the angst of that book I can survive anything.” She explained. “I have a present for you.” Her book went on the floor and she began fumbling in her backpack, clearly looking for something. “Ah! Here it is.” In her hand there was a small rectangular packet wrapped in bookish paper. Rowan took it suspiciously and opened. At the sight of the gift a roaring laugh erupted from him. Such a genuine laugh that left Aelin stunned. That could not be the same person who told her she was nothing to him. “So now when you open the fridge you will think of me.” She explained, pointing at the tacky fridge magnet with Stornoway written on, now in his hands. He smiled and attached the magnet to his metal pen holder on his desk “I spend more time here than at my fridge. Now it will always be in front of me.” They were talking and laughing, it looked like somehow the fight they had was just a bad memory, but he could not forgive himself for what he said to her. How could he apologise for his behaviour? He was terrible at this kind of things. How was he going to explain the chaos that was his heart at the moment? Then he remembered about the dark haired guy and the book and sadness engulfed him. “I wanted to apologise.” She surprised him searching for his gaze. Her blue eyes met his and he could not look away. “I said horrible things.” She continued. Aelin placed the book on the counter and moved a step in his direction, closing the distance “I was having a bad day and I think I exploded and took it out on the wrong person.” Rowan moved a step closer to her as well “I said horrible things too. You were being nice and brought me coffee. It’s just that…” he paused. He was so bad at this “I am not good at communicating with people as you can see. You are not just a customer….” “Mo charaid” he heard her whisper and smiled. “You are learning…” he added. He extended his arm and took her hand in his “I’d love to try an be your friend.” With a swift motion he pulled her to him, to his chest and she felt amazing against him. She was shorter and her head fitted just under his chin. Her arms caught him off guard when they wrapped themselves around him. “I am a mess.” It was a whisper from her but he heard it “I am a mess. My life is going belly up and some days I feel like drowning.” She looked at him and for a moment he was speechless. There was so much pain and anguish in those beautiful blue eyes of hers. “I am lost…” She whispered never removing her gaze from him “…and I don’t know the way.” At those words, his heart ached. He hugged her tighter and hoped that his action would help. Maybe his actions would convey better his feelings. A hug was all he could give her just now, but he hoped it helped a little bit. “I am a bit of a mess too.” Finally he confessed to her. She was being honest to him. She deserved a bit of his honesty too. “A bit stuck, as my aunt would say.” She is stuck too. Aelin leaned back from the embrace and put a hand on his chest, near the heart “When you are ready.” His hand covered her on his heart “When we are both ready, we will tell each other our stories.” “We will help each other.” She added softly “And maybe we could find our way back together.” He nodded and felt lighter for a moment “Together then.” “To whatever end.” Said Aelin in a solemn tone. Rowan grinned “that’s cheesy. It sounds as if it came from an epic adventure where the main hero is ready to embark in a dangerous mission. Sitting on his horse, sword wielded high and he shouts that.” “I did read it in a book actually.” Commented Aelin, laughing at the scene he had painted. With a huff she pulled away from him and walked to a shelf, grabbed a book and when she returned she shoved it in his face “You even sell it.” Rowan grabbed the book from her hands and set it aside. He was definitely going to read it. “If you spoiler it, I’ll kill you with my own hands.” She stopped again right in front of him and looked up “To whatever end…” a faint smile painted her lips “It could be our motto.” He grabbed her hand and put it back on his heart “Sounds epic enough for the two of us.” They had made some progress but he could not stop thinking about the other guy. And he could not risk asking her. She had probably seen the note which meant she knew that he knew, but he decided to give her some space. Also, the two of them were just friends. But a pang of jealousy hit him nonetheless. Anger flooded in him at the thought that he might kiss her. Or worse. It was not his place to be so possessive but that nasty emotion had been festering in him since the day the stranger had come to buy the book for her. He pushed the bad thought away. Having her back and being her friend had to be enough for now. He could not give himself to her completely until he had dealt with his life and his issues. Then she looked past him and noticed the books on the floor and the empty shelf “were you rearranging books?” “Yeah, I was playing with history section. It needed a sprucing up.” He looked at her face lit up in joy. “Can I help you? I love rearranging books. Please? Pretty please?” There was no way he could resist her. Not when she pleaded with her radiant smile. He gave in. “Fine. come.” He moved away and all of a sudden he missed the contact with her hand. They both went to the shelf and Rowan started explaining her how he was planning to reshuffle the display. “We can put some of the best historical books on display on the table, to advertise them.” She grabbed a book about the neholitic settlements “Like this one. Or this one about the Iron Age house in Bosta.” She continued “It’s such a cool place.” “And how do you know about Bosta?” “I… I was there.” He saw her hesitate and wondered if she had been there with the other guy and hated the thought of the two of them together. It should have been him to take her to all these places. Take her to Callanish and make her smile with all the myths connected to the place. Go at night and have a picnic under the stars and the Milky Way. It should have been him. That was jealousy. Dark, horrible jealousy. “Did you like it?” Aelin nodded “But my favourite was Callanish…” she looked at him and thought about the book and his note “It was such a magical place.” “It is. I have to take you there at the Solstice.” The big smile painted on her face was so beautiful it hurt. “I… felt something when I was there.” She started trying not to feel like an idiot for what she was about to say, “I sat down with my back against one of the stones, inside the circle and the chambered cairn and I just felt something.” She chuckled “Gee, now I sound like a lunatic.” Rowan placed a hand on her shoulder “You don’t. I have felt things too. Can’t actually describe what, it’s not something you can put into words easily. Especially at the solstices. I always go there for both winter and summer solstice.” “Ever seen the shining one walking down the avenue on midsummer’s dawn?” Rowan shook his head “No, he/she is still eluding me.” “Well, wonder if this year is the year we’ll see him.” “And…” he stifled a chuckle “Where else have you been?” “I have seen Callanish VIII. The stones on Great Bernera.” “Oh, so you have been busy.” He joked, while emptying the shelves to try and concentrate and hide from her his true emotions. If only he had been nicer from the start… “A bit.” Aelin took a few copies of the book he had chosen for her about Callanish and arranged them nicely on the table in a very attractive display. She then grabbed a few other different books and piled them nicely to fill the table. At the end she took a step back and admired her masterpiece “I am a genius.” Her arms folded at her chest and a big grin on her face. Rowan looked up from his position and felt suddenly the desperate desire to kiss her “You have a high opinion of herself.” He mocked her, adoring the expression painted on her face, nose scrunched up. “Give me a week. I swear, you will finally start to sell these books. If I win, you buy me lunch. If you win, you can ask me one question about myself.” Aelin hoped he took the challenge. She wanted to say that if he won he would have to confess something about him, but after his reaction, she decided it wasn’t a good idea yet. “I just hope that you are ready for a mortgage because I’ll get the biggest lunch your aunt can cook and make you cry.” “Ha.” He shouted pointing a book at her “Maeve is my aunt, she will not make me pay.” “Whatever, I still get my free lunch.” Rowan stood and eyed her display and he had to admit that she was quite good “This is actually quite nice.” “Well, at least I know that now that my medical career has gone to shit, I can always become a bookseller.” She added sadly. “You are a doctor.” Rowan added stunned by that confession and by the realisation that apart from her name he knew nothing about her. “I was, am… I… it’s complicated at the moment.” and she gave him her back. Gently his hand touched her shoulder and Aelin turned to face him and Rowan noticed her eyes filling with tears. Withe the back of her hand she wiped her face and pretended to be strong. Although in reality it hurt. Sometimes so much that she could not breath. There was anger in her, so much anger, and despair. “I am fine.’ She sniffled “Don’t worry about it.” “Aelin…” his hand was about to caress her cheek but she grabbed his wrist and stopped the gesture “No. I don’t need your pity.” She grabbed quickly her backpack, book and hat “I should go. I wasted enough of your time already.” She turned and left the shop not looking at him. Rowan stood immobile with a book in his hands and stared at the spot where she had disappeared. And all of a sudden he knew what question he wanted to ask. He wanted to know more about this woman. Discover what horrendous things had happened in her life to bring her to tears that quickly. She was hurting. Badly. Then all of a sudden he thought of the perfect idea to bring a smile back to that gorgeous face of hers.

Aelin left the shop and took the road to get to Lews castle. She followed the path through the park and ended up at the marina and eventually crashed on a bench in a spot a bit far away from civilisation. She took her phone out and called Lysandra and her friend answered after a couple of rings. “Darling…” Lysandra’s voice sounded out of breath. Shit had she interrupted something? “I guess you finally have a day off.” “Uh-uh…” said her friend “It happens you know?” “Lys, are you with Aedion just now?” “A bit.” Aelin laughed “So, I guess his hands were good.” “You have noooooo idea.” Aelin smiled “Hey, have fun you two. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She paused “Just… don’t make an aunt yet.” She said her goodbye to Lysandra and stood and then went and leaned again the pier barrier and admired the sea and the marina. She needed to talk to Lysandra. She had to tell her her current situation and how she was torn between two men who were completely the opposite of each other. She liked them both. They were both interesting and fascinating people in their own respective way.

Shit. She was in such deep, unending shit.

#rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowaelin #throne of glass series #aedion x lysandra #lysandra #fanfic #angst #fluff

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southernpeach13 · 3 years

Text

Their Princess All Grown Up Chapter 7

Duke felt as if she was going to throw up.

Scratch that.

As soon as she slammed the brakes on the large van she jumped out and did just that.

She could still smell the Major’s burnt flesh. She glanced behind and saw the charred remained and threw up again.

She had been in the field.

She’s seen men die. Good men. But this was something else entirly. She could still feel heat that had come off his body as she threw the dead man on the floor and took control of the van.

She saw a woman's face flicker off the screen after she hit the breaks.

The van had somehow electicated the man to death. She felt Scarlett pull her hair out of her face as she continued to vomit.

Duke wiped her mouth and looked at the redhead.

“ Please. ”

She gasped out. “Please tell me that whatever you had on that phone is still there.” She said meekly before turning around and tried to throw up again. She had nothing left in her stomach to come up, but her body wouldn't stop gagging and what she had witnessed.

Scarlett winced when Duke began to dry heave.

“It was fried.” Scarlett said bitterly.

Duke let out a bitter laugh through small pained sobs. She alway forgot how painful it was to vomit. Dry heaving was always worse.

“So how in the hell do we prove we’re innocent.” SHe snapped after she finally managed to get some sense of control back. Duke ran her hands through her hair. “We don’t even now who we can trust.” She chuckled bitterly.

Duke wanted to scream. The news woman’s ears still ringing in her ears

Forced their way in by gun point

One fatality.

Wanted for murder.

“We can always trust General Abranathy.” Scarlett said carefully.

Anastasia gathered up all the evidence she needed to keep Cobra in the clear.

That evidence being camera footage that hadn’t been edited by Mindbender to make it look as if the soldiers had started it all.

She was now looking through the original footage gathering what she could in each one.

One in particular caught her eye.

Her photo was a standard military one of her in her uniform. A few metals pinned to her chest.

Blonde hair tied up in a tight bun, bright blue eyes that stared into the camera looked back at her.

They looked so much like his.

Anastasia quickly pushed the man out of her mind instead focusing on the information of the people on the screen.

The screen began to ring and she answered immediately.

She wanted to scream.

How could Mindbender be so careless!

Anastasia was shaking with rage at the thought of the Commanders project being loose.

Her heart dropped as she heard a vehicle pull up behind her.

The scent of an Alpha wafting in the wind.

“So, what kind of threat are we trying to contain here Anastasia?”

She turned around and saw General Abranathy walking up to her. He was older Alpha,, maybe around the Commanders age and a retired combat veteren who wore his medals with pride

She chuckled bitteraly “Congratulations sir. You're rouge soldiers are also bio terrorist, when they destroyed our facility, they released a lethal virus into the water supply. Now we need to seal off Springfield.

The General nodded.

“Don’t you worry my best specialists is leading the manhunt.

Anastasia turned and saw another Alpha standing over a pile of ruble looking under a shard of metal.

“We will bring these fugitives to justice. Meanwhile I’ll call in a unit to help with the evacuation.

Anastasioa placed a hand on his shoulder, letting her scent fill the air.

“The military has done enough damage, General. Cobra will handle this ourselves.” SHe purred, heading over to the other Alpha.

Flint looked through the ruble. He could smell Duke’s scent. It was stronger than usual, something had deffinaly triggered her to go into a heat. He saw something shimmer under a large shard of metal. He picked it up and his heart sank.

He leaned down and picked up a thin chain that had a lovely wedding band on it. It had stones in it, a sapphire and a ruby. He knew that ring.

He had been the one to pick it out.

He remembered proposing with it last year and Duke happy tears as accepted it happily. SHe had put it on a chain to not lose it.

He stared at the ring for a long moment, lost in his thoughts when he felt a hand grab his shoulder.

He jumped in shock as he turned to see a tall woman staring at him.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Flint looked back at the wedding ring, a large lump in his throat.

“No. I’m not.” He whispered as he took the ring and placed it on his own chain.

He sat up and looked at the destruction before him. “Someone that I care about got caught up in this.”

Anastasia hummed in response, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder.

“Do not worry.” She said with sympathy. “Cobra Industries has every intention of finding these soldiers.”

Flint stayed silent, Anastasa could smell the distress coming off him, he was good at masking it but a distressed Alha had a very distinct smell.

She could use this.

“And who knows, maybe we could find this so called friend of yours, before things get to,” She paused.

“Out of hand.” She purred

#gi joe renegades #duke #flint #Anastasia #the baroness #Mindbender

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babybottlepop96 · 3 years

Text

Home Again Chapter 1

Jean x Marco

Summary: Jeana and Marco have been friends since the tender ages of 5 and 7. They grow together and fall in love.... then Jean disappears.

Warnings: This story will contains mentions of past rape and abuse. The violence parts will probably be descriptive, but the rape will not be. There will be eventual smut further along into the story.

~20 Years Ago~

"Jean, honey, this is mommy's new boss, Mr. Bott. He is the man who is going to help us, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?" The small five year old with ash blonde hair, dark brown undercut and honey golden eyes nodded his head as he stared at the tall dark haired man with dark chocolate eyes.

"Nice to meet you Master Jean." The man smiled down at the boy with a warm smile. "This is my son, Marco, he just turned seven a few months ago. Heard you enjoy dinosaurs and superheroes?" Jean nodded as he stared at the boy just two years older than himself with wide eyes, mapping out all the freckles along his tanned skin, milk chocolate eyes staring back into his own with a smile that could make the grumpiest of men relax. "Marco has a boatload of dinosaur and superhero toys, Marco, why don't you show Jean your room?" Marco smiled, grabbing Jean's hand and dragging him up the giant spiral staircase to the second floor.

Once inside the room, Jean's jaw dropped, the size of Marco's bedroom was bigger than his whole house combined. The ceiling was high with detailed trim along the edges, painted in a dark brown and a pale maroon shade of red. The bed was bigger than what any seven year old should have, a giant flat screen tv was mounted onto the wall across from the bed and games, movies and toys filled the rest of the room. "Do you want to play a video game? I have Spyro the dragon, Crash Bandicoot, Mario Kart?" The freckles kid asked, naming off games while setting up one of the many gaming consoles he owned.

"I… ummm.." Jean stood there nervously, rocking on his feet while twiddling his tiny thumbs. "I've never played a video game before." He looked up to see Marco smiling at him.

"That's okay! I'll teach you! We can start with Mario Kart, it's a multiplayer game, so I'll be able to teach you!" He smiled proudly as if he just won first place at the spelling bee.

"Oh, okay! Thank you!" Jean grabbed the controller Marco handed out to him with shaky hands. The two sat down on the squishy blue and purple bean bag chairs and started a game, Marco showing him how to pick his character, how to move and control the kart and how to throw the special abilities gained when hitting the boxes with the question marks.

"So, Jean, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple." Jean spoke as he tried to concentrate on what he was doing on the screen, still having a bit of trouble with the turns.

"Cool! Mines red!" Marco spoke as he gestures to the room around them.

"Favorite food?" Jean asked, stealing a glance at the older kid next to him, he couldn't help but smile, Marco's smile was infectious.

"Spaghetti! Well, all kinds of pasta! Penne, ravioli, ricotta-"

"I thought ricotta was a cheese?" Jean questioned, he wasn't actually sure himself, he just knew that cheese was a luxury in his home, never having enough money most of the time for really fancy things like cheeses.

"Oh, yeah! It is!" Marco giggled, "I just really like ricotta cheese." Jean giggled too, this kid was alright. "You're my new best friend, Jean."

~8 Years Later~

"Will you just shut up, Yeager?" A thirteen year old Jean Kirstein, as calmly as he could, spoke with his fist balled up at his sides as he walked out of the middle school building.

"Come on, Kirstein, didn't your poor piss excuse for a mother teach you it isn't nice to tell people to shut up?" Eren, the school bully, asshole and dick, in Jean's opinion, insulted. That's when Jean's resolve faded into nothing and landed a swift punch to the tanned, unblemished skin, a crunch was heard throughout the whole parking lot. Eren fell to the ground but quickly regained his strength and landed a kick to Jean's guy. The wind was knocked from Jean's lungs, but his anger was dominant. He lunged for the bastard who insulted his mother, the only parent he ever knew who worked her ass off to make sure he survived, to give the douche-nozzle a good pounding, but warm, strong arms held him back before hos fist could collide with it's intended target.

"Jean." A warm voice whispered in his ear, Marco. He relaxed in the freckles arms but he was still livid. "Let's go." Then, he was dragged off to the black Chevy Impala.

"Is that your boyfriend Horse Face? Man, I knew you were fruity but seriously? You could do better!" Jean almost got out Marco's grip, but the taller, older teen had his grip firm and all but threw the teen into the back seat.

"Jean-"

"No, don't start Marco! He taunted me about how I have to live my life, insulted my mother, then insulted you! He deserved to get his lights punched out!" Jean yelled, unshed tears forming in the corners of his Carmel eyes, threatening to spill any second. Marco just simply drew the younger into his arms and the driver drove towards Bott Manor. "He… he doesn't have to be so mean! I never did anything to him!"

When they finally pulled into the Manor, Marco led Jean to his room, the same room they first became friends in eight years ago. The stuffed animals and small toys are now replaced with books, CDs and even more games and movies. Marco sat them down on the bed and neither spoke for a few minutes. "He was right, ya know." Marco finally spoke and Jean looked at him like he had four heads. "You could do better than me, if we were together."

"Marco Bott, you stop right there! No one could ever replace you! You are literally the best person alive! If I had the balls to kiss you I would!" Jean and Marco's eyes widened and Jean turned into a blushing, flustered mess. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I.. I don't know why I said tha-", but Jean couldn't finish, Marco's lips pressed firmly against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss that spoke thousands of words and so many feelings.

"I love you Jean." Marco whispered as they pulled apart, foreheads still touching as both tried to regain their breath and slow their hearts. Jean cupped Marco's face in his hands and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Marco."

~2 Years Later~

Jean Kirstein, fifteen year old freshman at Trost High, walked through the park on his way home after work. He hates his job, hates working behind the counter at the local Taco Bell, hates that Eren works there too in the kitchen as a prep cook, hates dealing with annoying ass customers with snarky attitudes complaining that their crunch wrap supreme doesn't have enough sour cream. Well sorry, Karen, I don't make the fucking food nor do I determine how much sour cream goes on it. Today was a particularly bad day, Eren called off claiming he was sick when Jean really knew he was out with his "boyfriend" leaving him to prepare food and take orders. Then someone took a dump on the men's bathroom floor, didn't even try to aim for the fucking toilet! Just took a shot right there in the middle of the goddamn floor which he had to clean up himself while his manager bitched about him not doing his job at the counter. All Jean wanted to do was go home, talk to his boyfriend for a little before he eventually went to bed and got up early the next day for school.

It was a simple request that he wished for while the clock ticked by slowly. Jean was so into his own head, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth, his eyes widened for a second before the world faded to black.

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

"We have to find him!" Marco shouted at his father who was looking at him with a solemn expression. Marco paced back and forth in front of his father's desk, hands taking through his u kept hair. He has barely slept a wink since Jean vanished three days ago, his mind wondering about all the worst scenarios it could think of.

"We are trying, son, but we have no evidence of anything taking place. No struggle, no personal belongings, nothing to suggest anything has even happened."

"But Jean couldn't have just vanished into thin air! He wouldn't run away either! He loved his mom too much to just up and leave her and me…" Marco trailed off, thinking about his and Jean's time together over the last two years. Picnic and arcade dates, eating pizza and hot wings while they binge watched their favorite tv series at that moment, the soft and gentle kisses they shared between one another before they parted ways, always promising to text each other once they got home, letting the other one know they got there safe. That's the single most reason why Marco knew something was wrong. Neither of them forgot to send the 'im home safe and sound' text. Not once, in the ten years that they've known each other, did they miss sending that text. Even as children and Marco's father gave Mrs. Kirstein a cell phone as a gift to keep in contact, did they miss THAT text.

"Son, we are doing everything we can to find Jean. But we also need to think rationally, Jean might not ever be found." Marco froze at those words, Jean may be lost forever? He may never see those honey eyes, beautiful smile, perfect sketches and vibrant paintings painted by those slender pale hands and fingers? May never run his hands through those soft locks of ash and brown ever again? That's when Marco broke, he screamed and fell to the floor in a fetal position on the floor. His father looked at him with hurt in his own dark chocolate eyes, for him, his son and Jean's mother who was currently out looking for her only child as they speak. Don Bott rose from his leather chair and walked around the desk, kneeling in front of his son. He put his hand on his back and whispered a pained, "I'm sorry, Marco."

~10 Years Later (Present Day)~

Here he was, once again, at an underground auction. Mr. Bott hated these things, but he had no other choice, ever since Mrs. Kirstein passed away three years ago from a drunk driving accident, he hasn't been able to find someone who cleaned as well as she had. Every person he hired had an attitude or just didn't speak at all, always forgetting to dust the book shelves or take out the trash. So he relented and took up on Mr. Ackerman's suggestion to go to an auction. Getting there early to get a good seat, Mr. Bott, along with Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover, the Dons of their respected parts of New York City, all sat down to converse while the auction for the…. Pleasure portion of the auction slowly came to a close. Mr. Bott cringed as the scum of New York bid money on these poor people just for the gratification of getting their dick in a hole.

"And now for our last and best prize of the night!" The auctioneer spoke as the Dons sighed in relief, none of them liked the idea of people being sold for pleasure as they themselves, tried for years to get it under control but never succeeding. "This one has been in the business for ten years, used and a bit rough looking, but this little beauty will be the best fuck you ever had. Clean and pliant, not a bad body either if I do say so myself. Number 54!" The announcer spoke as someone roughly shoved a young man out into the center of the room. The numbers flying from the crowd started pouring in left and right and it got the Dons wondering whom this "prize" was. "Three-thousand!" "Ten-thousand!" "Twenty Five-thousand!"

"Two hundred-thousand!" The crowd went quiet after hearing the deep booming voice coming from the front row.

"Two hundred-thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Do Bott!" The young man was then hauled out of the room to be prepped for leaving the facility.

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

"Dad! I'm home! Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Eren and Armin are here too!" Marco called from the doorway as he and the others walked into the Manor. "Dad?!"

"In the living room son!" He heard his father call and the group walked towards the sound.

"What's up? We heard your voicemail and hauled ass here. What happened?" Marco asked as soon as he saw his father, eyes brimmed with tears and a small smile. The others in the room, specifically Dr. Yeager, looked at them, small sad but slightly happy smiles on their faces. "What's going on here?" The group looked at each other, confused and concern plastered on their faces. Once Mr. Bott moved to the side and gestured to the couch, it was then that the group realized what was happening. On the couch asleep, lay a thin pale man, dark circles under his eyes, bruises and scars and even some fresh wounds, now neatly stitched up thanks to Dr. Yeager, littering his almost naked form. Marco stared at the man laying on the pale green couch and tears flooded down his cheeks. "Jean?"

#attack on titan #Jean Krischtein #marco bott #jean x marco #kidnapping #abuse #eventual smut #jeans mom #marcos dad #eren yeager #mafia au #reiner #bert #mikasa #armin #erens dad

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gingyboo · 3 years

Text

Mirror Mirror

A/N: Again many thanks to @booglebug

Description- Soulmates existed. People knew that much. Soulmates were rare, a handful in each generation, an unexplainable phenomenon that formed a bond closer than blood and more sacred than marriage.

Bucky finds his soulmate when he needs her most. Little does he know how much she needs him too.

(Soulmate au that slots pretty much in to the MCU but with soulmates. Set after TFATWS.)

Pairing- Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings- Mentions of violence and guns, but its mostly fluff, drama and angst.

This is a multi chaptered fic.

Please like, comment, reblog!

prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 9 Chapter 10

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Chapter 11

Nancy was standing in the training room, more music playing in her ears, Ayo stood before her, spear in hand. Shuri, as usual, was standing in the corner with her tablet.

“This seems a dangerous test.” Ayo mused, twirling her spear. Nancy bit her lip. Her training had been going well. Over the past two days she found herself running faster and further, she could now successfully land moving targets and lift well above her own body weight. She still needed the music to calm herself, let her instincts take over but Shuri had decided it was time to put her training into practice. Who better to help than one of the Dora? Nancy had taken extensive self-defence classes as a child and teenager, her and Kit had attended judo classes, and both reached black belt. Their mother had seen it as a necessary precaution. Nancy had enjoyed it significantly more than ballet classes. Standing in front of Ayo 8 years since her last class she felt frightfully unprepared.

“She’s got this.” Shuri insisted.

Ayo circled the girl slowly, like a lioness stalking her prey. Nancy calmed her breathing. Stretching out her neck and clenching and unclenching her fists. The spear whistling through the air. Nancy’s arm shot out blocking its path, but Ayo stopped it’s attack short anyway.

“Okay, so you are fast.” Ayo smiled. She struck the spear out again, Nancy blocked again. This continued Nancy blocking strikes from all angles whilst Ayo spiralled around her. The speed of her assaults increased until Nancy grabbed out snatched the spear. Ayo didn’t let go and when Nancy kicked her leg out Ayo caught it in the air. One leg in the air and one hand on the spear’s shaft. She drops the leg spinning on the other and wrenching the spear from Ayo’s grasp. She landed crouched on the ground gasping for breath.

“Never again wildcat,” Ayo smiled taking back the spear.

“Not a wildcat,” Shuri said, approaching Nancy with her hand held out, helping her up. “Red Wolf.” Nancy laughed under her breath as she and Shuri grinned.

“So, I guess your theory was right?” Nancy said removing the headphones.

“Well, you didn’t just learn that in two days. It’s built within you.”

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The revelation of Duncan Ellis had led to more questions than he answered, they now played a waiting game for Sam and Bucky to return with him. Nancy was fresh out of the shower after training wrapped in a towel when her phone went off.

‘Mirror?’

‘Yes.’ She sent back straight away, she pulled on sundress and sat in front of the bedroom mirror. A few moments later she could see Bucky staring back at her. The interior of the jet displayed behind him.

“Hey, we are a couple of hours out.” Nancy smiled at his news,

“Okay, has he said anything yet?”

“Not yet, but he will,”

“Good, i think there might be more to this then we first thought.” Between what Sam and Bucky had discovered in Amsterdam and Shuri and Nancy’s own research, Nancy’s hopes had steadily risen, could Kit be out there? And if he was another question rose in the back of her mind, why hadn’t he made contact?

“Bucky?” She said hesitantly, “there’s something I need to show you when you get back.” Nancy hadn’t told Bucky about the princess’s and her experiments. She hadn’t explained her newly discovered reflexes or ability to hit superhuman speeds if in the right mindset. Which mean she hadn’t told him how much easier dipping into that place was becoming, or how at home she felt there.

“You okay doll?” He said frowning with concern.

“I will be when you get here.”

She didn’t have to wait long, a couple of hours was nothing compared to the days they’d been apart, but still it felt like an age to Nancy who stared into the mirror long after Bucky had left its surface. She pinned her hair back off her face but let it fall loose in a waterfall down her back, she dug out her great grandmothers necklace, remembering Bucky’s appreciation for it, and fastened it round her neck. She looked down at the sundress she’d slipped into for modesty and frowned. She wanted to look strong when facing Duncan Everett, fierce and intimidating, the dress made her look like she was off to the beach. She reached into the wardrobe flicking through the clothing she’d had to purchase in Wakanda after realising she’d be staying more than 3 days. She pulled out the black and red dress Katima had insisted she get. It was smart and official looking with a V-neck and asymmetric hem. It hugged her hips and thighs though the material had some stretch to it. Slipping into it and a pair of black heels Nancy once again returned to the mirror. That was much better. She applied a thick coat of mascara and a deep red lipstick before leaving to find Shuri.

“Woah, that’s a look.” Shuri called out to Nancy as she crossed the threshold to the lab. Navy gave a small lack lustre twirl.

“Buck has his arm, Sam has his wings and shield, I’ve got this.” She gestured to the outfit.

“Well, I love it.” She grinned “and I think a certain sergeant will too.” She laughed wiggling her eyebrows.

It was dark by the time the call came through that the jet had crossed the border. Nancy made her way down to the landing pad. She set her face in stone ready to face Duncan. Bucky left the jet first, marching over to her and engulfing her in his arms. He kissed her briefly but firmly.

“I missed you.”

“So, you said.” Nancy smiled back, stroking the stubble on his chin. He kept an arm round her shoulders whilst turning back towards the jet. Sam was leading the dark-haired man down the ramp and towards the palace, his hands held tightly behind his back, as he passed the couple he winked at Nancy, smirking as he did. Bucky’s grip tightened on her shoulder.

“Let’s go in,” he whispered in her ear. They followed the prisoner into the palace where he was sealed in a cell. Bucky waited until he knew he was locked away before making for the door with Nancy still by his side.

The stepped into a side room, Shuri was sat at a table, Sam by her side. They took seat opposite.

“How should we play this?” Sam asked the room, “he said nothing the whole way here.”

“British intelligence has given us clearance to hold him, turns out they thought he was dead as well. We have got to extradite him back to face questioning there when we are done with him, I’d say we have a week.” Shuri explained.

“I say we let him stew, get back to him in the morning.” Bucky stretched out. “He’s not going anywhere tonight.”

“I have questions, I want the answers.” Nancy argued.

“I know you do, and we will get them, but tomorrow, I want to know what you two have been up to.” Bucky said gesturing between the two women. They shared a look and a knowing smile.

“We were testing the subconscious link we discussed.” Nancy started.

“And she’s being showing great progress.” Shuri finished. Bucky simply looked confused.

“Come to my training tomorrow and you’ll see.” Nancy said slyly.

“Ooo that’s an idea, I don’t think Ayo will want to volunteer again.” Shuri winked at Nancy.

Bucky looked at Sam who just shrugged in return. It seemed things were decided and, be it reluctantly, Nancy let Bucky pull her from the room. They made their way across the square but at the door to the embassy building Bucky kissed her quickly on the cheek.

“I’ll be right back with you, just forgot something,” He darted back towards the palace. Nancy made her way up to the apartment, she slipped off the heels leaving them by the door and padded across the carpet. She switched on the stereo and poured herself a glass of wine. She swayed softly to the music. Tomorrow she would get her answers and then she’d know, either way, what had happened to Kit. She wanted to tell her dad what they were investigating but it seemed cruel to get his hopes up for nothing, and then there was their mother. She had told her where she was and to stay safe just in case they came for her as well. As always her mother had worried, told her to come stay with her because she’d decided that was what was best for her. Nancy politely declined. The thought of staying with her controlling overprotective mother was bad enough without worrying about her meeting Bucky. Larissa Cartwright had worshipped the ground her son walked on, when he’d died Larissa had retreated into herself. Her marriage collapsing and alienating her daughter. Telling her she thought Kit might not have died would likely cause more harm than good. Whilst thinking this over she heard the door click open and then Bucky’s arms were round her, his lips at her ear.

“I like this.” he whispered playing with the strap of her dress. Nancy smiled turning round so they could sway together to the music.

“Thank you, its my battle armour,” she said smiling. Bucky nodded in agreement. He stroked a thumb across her lower lip,

“And this?” he asked regarding the lipstick there.

“My war paint.” she laughed. He laughed with her, the right side of his mouth twisting up. He dipped her gently and as she leaned back the ruby pendent glinted in the low lights. He smiled seeing it nestled beneath her collar bone. As she rose back up he caught her lips in a fierce kiss, swooping her up in his arms, bridal style.

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

Nancy awoke to find Bucky’s side of the bed empty. Alarm raced through her instantly. She crept out of the bedroom, her robe wrapped around her tightly. She found him lying awake on the sofa, a blanket thrown over him. she slipped around the arm of the sofa wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“What’s this in aid of?” she asked as he sat up turning around.

“Never again, I won’t risk hurting you again.” he said staring at her with wide eyes.

“Buck…” she started.

“No, I don’t care if I never sleep again, I won’t put you in danger.” he held both his hands up.

“We figured out what happened. Even if I do wake him again, I can call him off.” she argued, hands twisting in the t-shirt he was wearing.

“That’s only a theory, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, I’m not going back to sleep until you join me.” She stood up, arms cross staring him down.

“You know you’re as stubborn- “

“As I am beautiful, I know, now come with me I’m tired and I’ve missed you.” She held out her hand with one eyebrow raised. He took it and let her pull him to his feet and back to the bedroom. Tucked up again, his arms wrapped around her, Bucky slipped reluctantly into sleep alongside her.

#bucky barnes #winter solider #sam wilson #captain america #soulmate #mcu #mcu fic

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all-the-love-harold · 4 years

Text

Chapter 11- Hang in there, Baby

Master Post

August 15th 2021

Emily 31 Weeks

Poppy 27 Weeks

The summer sun shone brightly through the bedroom curtains as Poppy’s eyes flashed open. A sharp pain in her back had jolted her out of a deep sleep. The pain subsided and she gently rolled over to check the time on her phone, 6:36am. Oli would be awake soon so there wasn’t much point in trying to go back to sleep. She sat up a little, wincing at the pain in her back that was more of a dull ache now and her movements awoke Harry.

“ ‘s the time?” he groaned, still groggy with sleep. “It’s almost twenty to 7,” Poppy whispered. “And Oli’s still asleep so shhhh!” she hushed.

Harry rolled over so that he could see Poppy and placed his hand gently on the swell of her belly, “and how’s our little girl?” he asked softly, smiling as he always did when he talked about his daughter.

“I think she’s still sleeping too, had her mother up at 3am kicking like a mad woman!”

“No doubt she’s your daughter then,” Harry laughed

“I don’t kick in my sleep,” Poppy said, sounding very sure of herself, arms crossed over her chest in defense.

“Yes, you do” he sighed, still laughing, resting his head on her chest “but it’s ok because I love you anyway.”

“I love yo-” Suddenly Poppy stopped talking and inhaled sharply, grabbing onto her back as another sharp pain hit her like a tonne of bricks.

“Are you OK?” Harry asked, sitting up properly now, his eyes narrowing as he watched her.

Poppy didn’t answer until the pain subsided into a dull ache again, “Yeah,” she nodded, I’m fine, it’s just my back...”

“Roll over, I’ll give you a massage.”

She groaned a little as she turned onto her side, careful not to land on her pregnant belly.

“Where’s it sore?” Harry’s hands hovered over her back.Poppy pointed to her lower back “Near my bum.”

Harry began massaging the spot where she had pointed and it instantly started to feel better. But before it had the chance to really help, Oli toddled through the door.

“Are we still having a baby party today Mum?” He asked, sliding into the bed next to her, ignoring everything else going on around him as though this question was the most important thing in the world right now.

“We are buddy, not until lunchtime though”...

“But the baby’s not coming today?”

“No, not today Ol, not for a while yet” Harry said, continuing to massage Poppy’s back, while also dropping a good morning kiss to his son’s forehead. “Is Emily’s baby coming today then?” he asked

“No, still another few weeks until Emily’s baby is here too.”

Oli sighed deeply, “I’m never gonna be a big brother!” he huffed dramatically, folding his arms over his chest, in an image of his mother about ten minutes earlier.

Harry and Poppy both giggled, which only sent another shooting pain up Poppy’s back. Harry felt her wince, the muscles seizing under his hands.

“Why don’t you go and have a hot bath, love? I’ll get Oli breakfast, come on mate.”

As much as she wanted to say no and have breakfast together which was their tradition whenever Harry was home, all she could really think about was how soothing the hot water would be rushing over her back so she nodded and pulled the covers back.

“Oli, why don’t you go on Daddy’s side, so Mum can get out of bed?”

Sometimes Poppy forgot that Oli was only four and didn’t think about things logically so instead of climbing out of bed and walking around to cuddle his dad, he rolled over his mother, making her groan in pain.

“Oliver,” Harry said sternly, “Next time, please walk around, remember there’s a baby in Mummy's tummy, you need to be gentle with her...”

“Sorry, daddy,” he sighed

Poppy tuned them out, focusing on her breathing to try and stop the pain in her back as she walked to the bathroom and turned on the hot water. She knew what this could be and she wasn’t willing to accept that possibility yet…

The steaming hot water washed over her and her body felt lighter and less painful. The baby must have felt it too because she started kicking as soon as the water covered Poppy’s belly.

“You can’t do this today, miss” Poppy breathed, trying to keep her voice calm, hands on her belly. “You’ve got to stay in there for a few more weeks yet. Okay?..... I can’t have another Violet.”

***

Whatever Poppy did that morning must have helped because by the time everyone arrived for the baby shower, her back was feeling better, which she was unbelievably thankful for. This shower meant a lot to her, and to Em, who had invited her entire family. It was a little chaotic with everyone there, Em’s brother had a son the same age as Oli and the two of them were running around like mad men, not at all bothered by all the baby related games that were going on in the garden.

“So... you got my baby sister pregnant?” Emily’s brother said to Harry as they both poured themselves a drink.

“Ahhh,” Harry laughed nervously “I guess I did…. Technically”

“Sorry,” the brother giggled, “I’ve always wanted to say that - I’m Peter.”

“Harry,” he held out his hand to shake Peter’s.

“I know,” Peter said, “My husband is a big fan!”

Harry couldn’t help but smile, “Sorry?” he said in a sarcastic tone .“No need,” Peter shook his head, “I’m a fan too, even more so since I heard how wonderful you’ve been to Em through this whole thing.”

“How could I not be?” Harry shrugged “She’s doing the most incredible thing for us and she's so graceful about it all!”

“She always has been, has she told you that surrogacy is how we had our little Henry?”

“She has,” Harry nodded “She told us that from the start, she said that’s why she wanted to do it.”

“We never did anything like this for our surrogate, she’s had no contact with us since actually... I don’t want that for Em, I want her to see this little boy grow up.”

“Em will always be a part of this family” Harry said “As long as she wants to be, everything here is on her terms.”

“You and Poppy are good people,” Peter nodded. “I have to admit though, when Em told me that Poppy fell pregnant, I was worried that you two were in this for the wrong reasons and I told her to be careful, but you’ve really proven me wrong. Thank you.”

“We didn’t know,” Harry sighed “When Poppy fell pregnant we didn’t know that we’d get to 27 weeks. We still don’t know how far we’ll get, we’re terrified all the time, but Em makes it easier, she keeps us focused on what we have right now, which is two babies and Oli.”

“You’ve got a very sleepless few months ahead of you,” Peter said, feeling a little awkward

“That we do,” Harry giggled.

On the other side of the garden, Poppy sat with Anne, Emily and her mum, Patricia, comparing pregnancy notes.

“When I was having Gemma, all I wanted was mash potato, I ate bucketloads of it...” Anne said when the topic of cravings came up

“Me too!” Em said, “My best friend makes the best mash, it’s so creamy. Shit. Now that’s all I can think about..”

“All I want is Vegemite,” Poppy said. “Harry’s perfected the art of Vegemite on toast this time around!”

“I tried that once,” said Patricia, “It’s awful stuff, I don’t know how you eat it.”

Poppy shrugged, “It’s an acquired taste, I’ve eaten it since I was a baby, so has Oli and he loves it too.”

“All I wanted when I was having Pete was feta cheese, I ate so much of the stuff and now Em tells me that you’re not supposed to eat soft cheeses! Explains a lot about Pete now that I think about it, actually,” she laughed teasingly.

“It’s just what they recommend, Mum,” Em said. “Soft cheeses can contain the listeria bacteria - there’s a very small chance they can make you sick, and to avoid harming the baby, they say not to eat it at all.”

“It pays to have an OB/GYN student around when you’re having a baby,” Poppy smiled. “Especially when she’s having a baby too!”

“Speaking of,” Emily smiled, placing her hand on her belly, “Your little boy has been kicking like a mad man today!”

“So has his sister,” Poppy giggled “feels like she’s doing backflips in there.”

“They’re going to be such good friends,” Anne said, a wide smile stretched across her face. “I wonder if they’ll have that twin telepathy thing...”

“They’re not twins,” Poppy said teasingly with a half smile stretched across her face.

“Let’s just wait and see,” Anne said, not giving up on the idea.

“Alright”, Gemma clapped getting everyone’s attention and drawing the conversation away from twin telepathy. “it’s party game time, I need everyone to come over here, we’re about to name a baby!”

The whole party gathered around the table that Gemma had set up, that was covered in onesies to decorate, a jar full of name suggestions, and some baby themed cupcakes and biscuits.

“Harry, Pop and Em, you get to sit here, right in front of everyone and take these red and green paddles. if you like the name, show us the green side, if you don’t, show us the red. You’re adults you probably could have worked that out for yourselves but anyway...” Gemma laughed

“Thanks Gem,” Harry said sarcastically as he sat down where he was told to

“Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t name your own child!”

“We’ve named one of them...” Poppy said defensively.

“You have,” Gemma said, “which brings me to the point that these are girls names only, since Baby Boy has been named.”

The pain in Poppy’s back returned, sharper than ever just as she sat down. She winced, while she waited for it to subside again, and tuned the rest of the conversation out.

Breathe.

That’s all she had to do right now.

A few big breaths and it will all go away.

But it didn’t and when Gemma started rambling about the ridiculous names that everyone had put in the jar, Poppy took the opportunity to tell Harry.

“Harry,” she whispered leaning over so that only he could hear, “I think I need to go to the hospital...”

His eyes widened, “What’s wrong?”

“I think the back pain is contractions.”

He nodded, already springing into action -“Are we being subtle about leaving? Or are we just going?”

“I think we just need to go” Poppy said breathlessly, another wave of pain taking over her body.

Harry stood up and laughed nervously, as everyone stopped talking and looked at him. “Poppy might be in labour...” he announced running his fingers through his hair “We’re going to go to the hospital.”

At that moment everyone ran over to crowd Poppy, which only made her feel worse.

“Are you having contractions?” Emily asked

“Back pain,” Poppy said through gritted teeth “it’s sharp and it comes and goes every few minutes.”

“That sounds like early labour,” Em nodded “Have you had any bleeding?”

“No,” Poppy shook her head.

“That’s good,” Em smiled “That means your mucus plug is still ok.”

Peter and his husband scrunched their noses at the thought of a mucus plug.

“What does that mean?” Anne asked, voice filled with concern.

“It means the doctors have a better chance of stopping it. “Ok we should go then,” Harry said immediately.

London traffic had never felt slower. They were barely out of their street before they were stopped and it took them five minutes to get to the main road that led to the hospital, which usually only took them 2. Poppy took the extra time to call their doctor and let her know that they were going to the hospital but even after that they were still 10 minutes away.

“Harry,” Poppy sighed. “I’m scared,” her voice broke a little as she admitted how she was feeling.

“Me too, Pop.” He grabbed onto her hand and squeezed it tight before bringing it up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss to it, “We’re going to be ok Pop.”

“She doesn’t even have a name yet!”

“She doesn’t need one,” Harry said optimiscally. “Her due date isn’t for another three months.”

“Harry, I don’t carry babies to term, her due date could very well be today!”

“They stopped it with Oli”, Harry said, turning his head towards her. “There’s nothing to say they won’t be able to stop it this time.”

“I was 28 weeks with Oli”, she sighed “I’m only 27 this time.”

“28 tomorrow,” Harry added,

“One day does make a difference H”.

“I know it does”, he sighed “But I’m trying to stop myself from thinking about what might happen if she arrives today. Let’s try and stay positive until we know more, ok?”

“OK.” Poppy nodded, that’s what she loved the most about Harry. He always looked at the bright side, sometimes to a fault, but today he was right, there was a chance that their little girl might arrive today, but there was an equal chance that she wouldn’t, and why not focus on that?

They pulled into the hospital driveway and Harry headed straight for the underground parking.

“Wait,” he said just before he got a ticket “are you going to be able to walk there if I park down here? Or do you want me to park near the entrance?”

“Harry’s it’s 1pm,” Poppy said reasonably, “There won’t be any parking up there, I’ll be fine to walk.”

“I can go up and get you a wheelchair,” he said, driving the car down the ramp

“I can walk H, I just want to get in there.”

“OK,” he said calmly, pulling into a free space and turning the car off. “Let’s go then.”

They entered A&E to chaos. The waiting room was filled with ill and injured people and Poppy felt a bit out of place until another wave of pain took over her while they waited in the queue to check in.

She squeezed Harry’s hand in an attempt to ease the pain and he asked her if she needed to sit down

“No, I’m OK,” she said, gritting her teeth, “I just want to talk to the nurse.”

“What brings you to A&E today my dear?” The nurse asked as they stepped up to the counter

“I think I’m in labour...” Poppy said

“How far along are you?”

“27 Weeks”

The nurse waved nonchalantly, “It’s probably just Braxton Hicks contractions dear, go home and rest”.

Poppy took a deep breath, not caring as her voice rose in volume, “This is a high risk pregnancy, I went into labour early with my son, and I lost a baby from early labour last year. This is not Braxton Hicks!”

The nurse looked stunned “OK. I’ll call the maternity ward and have one of the midwives come down and assess you. Take a seat.”

“Old Cow,” Poppy muttered to Harry as they took their seats. Harry giggled, “hey hey hey, treat people with kindness now Pop.” “I will when I’m not in labour” she half laughed and half winced at the pain of another contraction.

They didn’t have to wait long, only 10 minutes passed before a midwife came rushing in calling Poppy’s name. They were taken into one of the small examination rooms in A&E to be assessed before they could be admitted to the maternity ward. “How long ago did the pain start?”

“I had a dull ache in my back yesterday afternoon and this morning it turned it to sharp pains every so often,” Poppy said

“And have your waters broken?”

“No,” Poppy shook her head

“Good,” the midwife replied with a smile “any bleeding?”

“No.”

“Great,” she was taking notes on her clipboard

“Did you bring your pregnancy notes with you?”

Poppy looked towards Harry who had been holding them under his armpit the whole time.

“They’re here,” he said handing them to the midwife, who blushed when he smiled at her.

“So this isn’t the first time you’ve gone into labour in the second trimester?”

“No,” Poppy shook her head “It’s the third...”

“OK, well we’ll do a quick exam, see where your cervix is at and go from there, but I’d say given your history we’ll be admitting you. I’ll get you a gown so we can go ahead,” the midwife left the room

“She doesn’t seem too worried,” Harry said

“She doesn’t seem not worried,” Poppy countered. “She thinks I am in labour.”

“We knew that though,” Harry placed a kiss on Poppy’s forehead “I think we’re here early enough to stop it.”

“I hope -”

The midwife walked back in and handed Poppy the gown - “Put this on and lay down on that bed just there. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Dad you can stay or if you’re squeamish you can go back out to the waiting room.”

“I’ve seen it all before,” Harry smiled referring to the examination that was about to happen although he was sure the midwife thought he meant something else because she started blushing again as she walked out of the room.

“Someone’s got a secret admirer!” Poppy said as she unbuttoned her jeans

“It’s not very secret,” Harry added

“Either she’s in love with you, or she’s feeling weird about having to look at Harry Styles wife’s vagina!”

“Maybe both,” he shrugged.

Poppy pulled the gown on and laid down on the table like she was asked and a knock came on the door, right on cue. Harry sat down in the chair next to Poppy head and grabbed hold of her hand.

“Alright, I’ll make this quick,” the midwife said, pulling on a pair of gloves as Poppy winced her way through another contraction. Poppy hated this part, not only was it uncomfortable, but for the next few minutes she didn’t know what was going to happen. Maybe it was just Braxton Hicks contractions and everything was going to be ok, or maybe she’d meet her baby girl today and spend the next few months in the hospital with her.

Or maybe they’d also be saying goodbye to their little girl today.

“You’re only 1cm dilated,” the midwife finally said after what felt like hours. “Normally I’d send you home and tell you to come back if the pain gets worse, but given your history, I’ll admit you and we’ll do a few more tests and go from there. We’ll also give your doctor a call and let her know you’re here.”

An hour later they found themselves in a private room in the maternity ward. An ultrasound had shown the baby had dropped into the right position for birth, and now the shape of Poppy’s uterus was affecting her growth. Now they were nervously waiting for Dr Marshall to come in and tell them that she could somehow work some magic and fix the problem. They waited in silence. Poppy stared at the wall wondering what on earth could have made this happen and Harry sat on his phone, texting Anne and Gemma.

H: Poppy has been admitted, baby girl has dropped, waiting to see the doctor for more info. How is Oli?”

A: Praying for good news xxx. Oli is OK, he keeps asking where you went… What should I tell him?

G: Has anyone told Addie yet?

H: You can tell Oli that we’ve come to the hospital to make sure the baby is ok, and I’ll be home with him as soon as I can. We haven’t told Addie yet, I’ll wait until we know a bit more, don’t want her thinking she needs to jump on a train from Bath if everything is ok.

A: Good idea. Em and her family left about half an hour ago, they said to let them know if you need anything.

H: They’re very sweet, I’ll send Em a message and let her know what’s going on. I’ll try and be home for Oli’s bedtime and then I’ll come back to stay here with Pop

Dr Marshall was surprisingly fast, Harry and Poppy had been expecting her to take hours, but it was only about 20 minutes after they got to their room that she popped her head around the corner.

“How are we doing?, she asked, picking up Poppy’s chart. “contractions every 10 minutes still?”

“About that,” Poppy nodded .

“So what we’re going to try and do is get Baby to turn back around.”

“How do we do that?” Poppy asked, confused.

“Well, if you were more than 1cm dilated we’d do it the simple way, but since you’re not, we’ll try a massage on your belly, we usually do this when a baby is breach, I’ve only done it once or twice for this situation, but it’s a simple procedure, I promise.”

“That sounds much more pleasant than the other way,” Poppy laughed nervously

“It is,” nodded Dr Marshall with a smile.“We’re also going to give you a shot of progesterone to try and put a stop to those contractions.”

“That sounds lovely too,” Poppy half smiled

“And you know this means you’ll be on strict bed rest until you give birth?” Dr Marshall said sternly raising her eyebrows.

“Do I have to stay here?”

Dr Marshall thought for a moment “No,” she hesitated “I’ll let you go home to your little one, but I need you to promise that you’ll be taking it easy”

“I’ll make sure of that”, Harry said a stern look falling onto his face too.

“Good,” the doctor smiled “You’ll be here a day or two while we make sure the labour has stopped and we get Baby Girl turned around.”

Poppy and Harry both nodded

“I’ll order that injection now and once those contractions stop we’ll start the massage.” She put Poppy’s chart down at the end of her bed and turned to leave the room.“Thank you,” Harry and Poppy both called after her .

Once she was gone Harry placed a kiss onto Poppy’s forehead and breathed a sigh of relief “This is good,” he said

“I have a name” Poppy said quietly

Harry sat down on the bed next to her “Hmm” he cooed “I’m listening”

“Florence Anne...”

Harry nodded. “It’s beautiful. Florence, Oscar and Oliver,” he sighed “I like it”

“Flori, Ossie and Oli,” Poppy said. “For short.”

“And Violet,” Harry added

“Always.”

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legumelupin · 4 years

Text

Cake Week!

here it is! the first chapter of this story that i love so much but is ruining my life! and here it is on ao3! it’s over 11k so please enjoy

WEEK 1 — CAKE

“It’s the moment every dessert lover, every pastry lover, really any kind of bake lover has been waiting for. The tent is staked and there are 12 new bright-eyed and bushy-tailed amateur bakers ready to battle it out. These bakers are some of the finest in the United Kingdom and were hand-selected out of thousands of applicants.

“They practiced for months and months to perfect new and old skills to take on a new set of challenges. Original signatures, grueling technicals, and spectacular showstoppers that are all made to push the baker's creativity and determination to the edge. Who will come out victorious? And who will collapse under a soggy bottom?

“This season, the bakers will be judged by none other than the lovely baking queen of Scotland, Minerva McGonagall. She’s hard to impress and incredibly blunt but boy does she make spectacular ginger biscuits. Her co-judge is the man who looks great for his age and who’s palate ranges from lemon sherbert to cockroach cookies. That’s right, it’s the ever-serene Albus Dumbledore. But the bakers had better watch out, our dear Dumbly isn’t afraid to shatter hopes and dreams. And as always, this season will be hosted by myself, Horace “Sluggy” Slughorn, and the large and in charge, Rubeus Hagrid.

“For their first week, our brand new bakers will have to overcome the woes of cake week. That means avoiding dry sponges, merengues that aren’t whipped properly, and batter that is over’werked’ as our dear Minerva would say.

“Welcome to Season 7 of the Great British Bake Off!”

Remus tied the apron around his waist, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he was still processing where exactly he was. He was in The Tent! The people in charge of the Great British Bake Off chose his application as one of the ones to be a part of the next season. Him! Remus John Lupin! What the fuck? What were they thinking? What was he thinking? He had let his mother convince him into applying, citing his bread and his knack for precision as qualities that could help him. He just never thought he would be here, ever. But he was!

He took a look around, noting all the cameras and feeling his stomach start to twist itself into a knot a bit. Oh gods, what in the world was he thinking? He’d be on TV and chances are he’d make a fool of himself for everyone to see! He thought of the day the camera crew had shown up to his family’s small cottage just outside of Cardiff. He had been maybe even more nervous then than he was now considering how intimate the whole ordeal was. They just followed him around for a few hours and had him hang in the kitchen with his mother while his father sat at the counter reading the paper. They followed him to his job at a bookshop just inside of town and he talked about his dream to go to university to study literature. If he didn’t think too hard about it, being in The Tent didn’t seem so bad anymore.

And then one of the Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore walked in. Gods, he wished he packed a joint in his bag for after. Or even his pack of cigs. He was going to need it afterward judging by how hard his legs were shaking. He looked to the workstation across from him and found a woman with long, red hair and he remembered her vaguely from the little mingling session the producers of the show hosted for contestants the day before. Remus did his best to socialize but he mostly kept to himself, thinking about the book that was waiting for him on his train ride home. But looking at her now, she was hard not to remember with hair like that and green eyes that pierce him even from the distance he’s at.

She caught his eye and offered him a kind smile that he returned easily, feeling a bit better. He could see the worry lines etched on the side of her mouth. Honestly, Remus should have been paying more attention to the competition if he wanted to win but he’d been so inside his head that he didn’t even remember any of their names let alone what they looked like. All he remembered from the night before was the piercing blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore and the raucous laughter of Rubeus Hagrid. He was so shell-shocked that all he could do was tell himself not to panic and have a drink with a few of the other contestants that he didn’t remember the names of.

But now, here he was, smiling at the girl with flaming red hair, waiting for the camera crew to give the cue for them to start. They’d gotten the opening shots with all the new bakers lined up outside the tent and all of them walking into the tent for the first time. Remus was almost positive that his gaze was downcast the entire time. It was almost like he was asking to leave on the first episode but in reality, he did really want to win. He was terrified and an anxious disaster. But he was a terrified and anxious disaster with a passion to win.

“Psst, hey!” a voice whispered behind him and Remus raised an eyebrow, turning his head to find the most gorgeous man his bisexual eyes have ever seen. Remus suppresses a groan. Why did Gorgeous-Man have to get his attention before the first task? As if it wasn’t going to be hard enough before, all Remus would be able to think about now were those stormy grey eyes and long, very soft-looking black hair. He would definitely overbake his sponge.

Sirius Black was very nervous. He was incredibly proud of himself for making it onto the show but he was also still in disbelief. Even when he was standing at his workstation for their first bake of cake week, he didn’t believe he was actually going to be on his favorite TV show. The night before hadn’t done anything to soothe his nerves or let him know that this was actually real but he did meet a really wonderful bloke by the name of James Potter who was also a contestant on the show. They hit off on their first interaction and hit the pub right after the little event had ended. Sirius felt he’d made a friend forever in the guy.

“Hey man, this is crazy right?” a brown-skinned guy with unruly black hair and kind, hazel eyes said, gesturing to the large white tent that was just down the hill from the little area of the grounds the newest contestants were all gathered in. He looked to be around Sirius’s age. “Never thought I’d be here but I guess they liked my application enough even though I made a complete fool of myself,” the guy snorted and Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“I suppose they just wanted a village fool and they thought you’d do the best job,” Sirius snarked and the guy looked affronted but to the point of mocking him.

“You say that as if it isn’t a high honor, young sir!” the man proclaimed and Sirius cracked a grin.

“I have to say, kind fellow, I’m going to put up a hell of a fight to be crowned the title of fool before you,” Sirius jested back and the guy laughed heartily.

“I’m James Potter,” he extended his hand and Sirius took it in his own.

“Sirius,” the pale male answered and James quirked an eyebrow but didn’t let go of his hand.

“Course I’m serious, why would I lie about my name?” James asked and Sirius snorted.

“No, I’m Sirius,” he replied and James just leveled him with a small glare.

“About what, mate? You haven’t even said anything,” James shot back and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“No, you oaf. My fucking name is Sirius,” he laughed and James’s face fell for a second before it broke out into a large grin.

“That’s right funny, Sirius. You can make a lot of jokes with that,” James smiled and Sirius laughed.

“Just did, mate,” Sirius remarked and James didn’t stop grinning.

“Wanna grab a pint after this?” James asked and Sirius knew. He just knew. This guy was gonna be his best friend after this night.

“Sounds like a plan to me. I’d get out of here right now if it weren’t the set of fucking Bake Off,” Sirius murmured and James grinned at him again.

“Is someone nervous?”

“As if you aren’t. Or I suppose you’re too daft to feel nervous.”

“Oi! Now that’s just rude!”

“You didn’t even understand when I introduced myself!”

“Your name is fucking Sirius! Pardon me for not knowing very many people named after celestial bodies!”

“Well, you’re pardoned! Happy?”

“Incredibly, good sir!”

They hit the pub together after the party as promised and got properly shitfaced and Sirius was sure that he would want to remember that night forever. Bake Off was already getting his mind off his shit life but this bloke, this James Potter, seemed to be a forever friend.

James was sat at the station on Sirius’s right and they kept glancing at each other. Both would be lying if they said they weren’t nursing a bit of a hangover which is not ideal considering it was their first day on the set of a baking TV show that would be broadcasted all over England. James pointed to the woman who sat in front of him and made a face at Sirius that indicated that he was absolutely smitten with this woman. He’d never even talked to her. Sirius rolled his eyes and shook his head. James glared at him and stuck out his tongue, and then feigned absolute hurt when Sirius didn’t change the look on his face.

Sirius could only roll his eyes again but with a smile this time. He turned his attention to the guy sitting in front of him who was wearing a sweater that was definitely not appropriate for this fucking disgusting weather. Sirius knew it wasn’t his place to say shit to the guy but holy fucking hell it was as hot as Satan’s balls out! So, like a typical Black (and he was well aware of his cousin’s presence in the tent which was kind of crazy but he tried not to think too hard about it), he said something.

“Psst, hey!” he whispered loudly and thankfully, the guy heard him and turned around briefly. Sirius’s gay panic went haywire at that moment. He forgot about the sweater all at once and was stuck between a sea of honey brown and a forest of glorious summer green and freckled cheeks with a couple of faint scars running across a beautiful nose. He had fucking freckles and heterochromia. Oh gods, he was toast. Pun intended.

“Yeah?” the guy asked, his voice sounded strained. How had Sirius not seen him last night? Or this morning? Was he seriously so far up James’s ass and happy to have a friend that he didn’t even notice this hot string bean amongst the ten other contestants? Yes, yes he was. But that wasn’t an excuse!

“Oh, um, I was just… Mate, how the hell are you wearing that thing right now?” Sirius asked incredulously and the man’s face fell to be quickly unimpressed.

“I've been cold on the inside since I’ve been ten,” he deadpanned and Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. “Basically I’m depressed,” he continued after before making to turn back front.

“Wait, you’re not even gonna tell me your name Mr. I- Wear -a -Sweater -in -the -Dead -of -Summer?” Sirius quipped and the guy actually managed a smile. Sirius groaned internally. No one should be allowed to look that hot!! And he was just fucking smiling!! At this rate, Sirius couldn’t even bring himself to think about fucking cake (unless it was this guy’s cake, if you know what he’s saying. Wink wink).

“Remus Lupin. Care to tell me yours? Mr. I-Have-No-Manners-and-Can’t-Recognized-a-Depressed-Bastard?” the guy snarked back, not losing the amused look on his beautiful face.

Sirius barked out a laugh causing the other contestants to look over to them and Sirius feared of being shushed so he quickly said, “Sirius Black.”

Remus nodded at him, a small smile still piquing on his lips before turning back around. And finally, the set fucking called for action. Now, what was the cake he’d been practicing for weeks?

Marlene McKinnon was an absolute ball of nerves and it was obvious to everyone around them, too. They couldn’t sit still. One minute they were bouncing their leg up and down, another they were wringing their hands, another their fingers were twisting around their long chestnut brown ponytail, and another minute they were braiding that ponytail. But before they knew it, Sluggy and Hagrid were welcoming all of them to Cake Week and giving the prompt, which they already knew, before the legendary send-off:

“On your marks,” said Hagrid.

“Get set!” Sluggy cheered.

“BAKE!” they both rang out together and it was like Marlene blacked out.

Their adrenaline took over and they raced around her work station, grabbing sugar, eggs, and flour for their orange zest angel food cake. Their workstation was one of the first two from the tent’s entrance which they were honestly thankful for because that meant the judging and hosting teams came to them first. And they wanted as little distractions as possible.

“Marlene, what kind of angel food cake are you making for us today?” Sluggy asked, peering around her workstation. They looked up and saw the calculating gaze of Albus Dumbledore on their batter in the mixer and the stern eyes of Minerva McGonagall boring into their own. Their knees wobbled and they fought to keep themself upright. Minerva was an inspiration for them and now the woman was going to be judging their bakes.

“Oh, um.. I’m going to be making an orange zest angel food cake with chocolate glaze and fresh whipped cream,” they said while trying to keep their voice from shaking.

“Sounds quite lovely,” Albus said serenely.

“Yes, I expect a strong orange flavor in your cake,” Minerva insisted curtly but with a small peak of a smile.

“Of course! I hope it comes through,” Marlene smiled and they knew that this was where her little introduction would be placed in post-production of the show. The production crew followed them around Cambridge and talked about how they worked as a physician's assistant for a nephrologist and lived with their two cats.

They were quite happy with their life at the moment, they kept up with their family who didn’t live that far away and their job was fulfilling. But they were a hopeless romantic and were on the lookout for a lovely lady to woo or for one to woo them.

They glanced around their station once the judges and hosts moved on and caught the eye of a dark-skinned girl named Dorcas Meadowes that they met yesterday along with a red-head named Lily Evans and another woman with mousy brown hair named Alice. Dorcas gave them a small smile before turning back to her own bake and Marlene felt their cheeks heat up a bit and really hoped no cameras were pointed at them.

The bakers had two hours for the first bake of the season and Marlene thought everything was going well. Their egg whites whipped up well, they zested many oranges, everything seemed to be going alright. They couldn’t say the same for the man across from them. He had long blond hair and a permanent sneer on his face that said he thought he was better than everyone. Marlene remembered him from the night before and rolled their eyes then just like they were rolling them now.

He fucked up his egg whites it seemed like and was obviously disgruntled as the camera crew moved to his station for what kind of angel cake he was making. Marlene marked him as a weak link in their head but they didn’t dwell on it too long as their egg whites weren’t yet stiff peaks. They kept beating them.

Marlene was a whirlwind of movements for the next hour and a half until Hagrid announced they all had a half-hour left and they felt absolutely overwhelmed despite actually being in a pretty good place in their bake. Their sponge was cooling and it looked well-baked but not over baked, their chocolate glaze was almost ready and all they had left was their whipped cream and to slice some oranges as a garnish.

“Looks like he broke your focus,” the woman behind Marlene’s station smirked but not unkindly.

“Oh, uh yeah,” Marlene answered with a breathy laugh.

“Sorry if that was weird, you’re just in front of me and you’ve been in the zone the entire time. It’s admirable, I hope it’s all going well for you,” the woman smiled sweetly and Marlene smiled back at her. They noticed all around the tent, bakers were conserving and bantering with each other and they hadn’t said a word since the very beginning.

“No, it’s not weird and thank you. I hope it’s going well for you too, this is all so scary,” Marlene answered and the woman smiled at them more. She didn’t seem too much older but she was definitely on the older side of the contestants. Almost everyone else looked to be Marlene’s age.

“Yeah but think about it, if you didn’t deserve to be here, you wouldn’t be,” she reminded Marlene and the person nodded. “I’m Andromeda, by the way. It’s nice to meet you and hopefully, there’ll be a friendly face around here over the next few weeks, assuming I make it through,” she said softly and Marlene nodded again.

“I’m Marlene, it’s good to meet you too,” they answered before turning back to their bake, making sure their chocolate glaze wasn’t burning or anything.

There was a minute left before they could even realize and their cake was glazed, their whipped cream was cold and sitting like a cloud atop the cake, and they were just finishing slicing their oranges. They chanced a glance up and around and saw the blond man across from them struggling. His sponge looked overdone and his lemon glazed looked too runny. They could only hope that the orange was strong enough in their cake to compete with their chocolate glaze and cut through it.

“Bakers, time is up! Please step away from your bakes and move your Angel Food cakes to the end of your table!” Sluggy called out to the group and almost simultaneously, everyone out down what they were doing and stepped back. Marlene was satisfied with how their cake looked, they really only wanted it to taste good now. They took a look around at everyone else’s.

Sirius had dried batter on his face and his usually pristine hair was rather disheveled but his angel food cake looked delicious, at least in his eyes. It was a vanilla sponge with a sweet cranberry sauce running down the sides with strawberries on top. He looked forward at Mr. Remus Lupin’s cake and groaned. His looked fucking delicious and it looked like he made a chocolate angel cake sponge? The fucking drama of this guy! He looked over at James who looked very proud of his key lime pie inspired back and he had to admit it was impressive.

“We got this in the bag,” the man whispered-shouted across the way, his arms crossed proudly over his chest. The girl in front of him who he was gaping at two hours ago turned and gave him a slightly disgusted look and he noticed and grinned at her. “Like what you see?”

“Aha, you wish,” she sneered and Sirius decided she wasn’t his favorite person. What was her deal? Sure James was a little cocky but so what?

“Oh come on, Red. You don’t think my sponge looks good?” he asked with an easy grin and the girl rolled her eyes before facing forward. Judging was starting.

Remus’s internal panic alarms were ablaze. He was proud of his bake for sure but it wasn’t up to his usual standard in his opinion. There was a good chance the sponge was dry on his vanilla one and his chocolate one had a very good chance of being underbaked. His pastry cream was set well enough but he was nervous all the same. All he could hope for was that it tasted better than how he imagined it did.

He watched Albus and Minerva make the rounds with Hagrid by their side from behind him. They were tasting a greasy-haired guy’s cake and they seemed kind of meh with it like it didn’t do anything special for them and from what he could tell, it was just a normal sponge with some powdered sugar and strawberries on top.

“I’d like to see more,” Minerva said, a tone of disappointment in her voice. The guy just gritted his teeth and nodded shortly before turning to look forward.

The judges moved onto the guy in front of the one they just judged who’d been talking to Sirius just a minute ago. He looked very proud and boastful of his bake and with good reason it seemed as the judges loved it and the guy who was judged first seethed very visibly, glaring daggers at the back of Sirius’s friend’s head. But Remus’s view was obscured when the judges crossed over to Sirius’s station. He could hear everything they were saying.

“Right, Sirius my boy, this is vanilla angel food cake with cranberry sauce, right?” Albus asked and Sirius nodded while chewing his lip. He was fucking hot when he chewed his lip. Gods, Remus was so fucking bent for this guy and he had one conversation with him if it could’ve even been counted as a conversation. And he was a dick during the whole thing! How could he be a dick to the one attractive guy who’s talked to him in months? Remus held back a sigh as Minerva and Albus tasted Sirius’s cake.

“Hm, that is scrummy. The cranberry is sharp and tart which is an excellent contrast to the sweetness of your sponge,” Minerva attested and Sirius’s face broke out into a smile. It was radiant and Remus never wanted him to stop.

“Yes this is delicious, thank you,” Albus commented, giving a slow nod to Sirius.

“Thank you,” he said softly, the smile never melting off his face.

As Minerva and Dumbledore moved onto the person behind Sirius with Hagrid, Remus caught Sirius’s attention. “Nice one! Looks great,” he smiled and if it were possible, Sirius’s smile grew even bigger. Remus’s heart clenched because he made that happen.

“Thanks, mate! Yours looks really good, a chocolate angel food cake is impressive,” Sirius whispered back and Remus flashed him a smile this time.

“Thanks!”

Remus faced forward again and waited for the judges to come to his station with a large amount of anxiety that grew with every second. He resisted the urge to bite his fingernails to shreds as he knew the cameras were still around and taking shots of people other than those who had the judges at their table. But Remus needn’t wait very long as the next person they came to was him. He sat up straighter when Hagrid addressed him.

“Remus, what have you made fer the judges t’day?” he asked and Remus swallowed loudly.

“Uh, it’s alternating chocolate and vanilla angel food cake with pastry cream in between the layers, topped with fresh whipped cream,” he said quickly but his voice didn’t waver thankfully. He was a mess.

“It looks very neat and your pastry cream seems to have set very nicely. Quite ambitious for the first bake of the season, let’s just hope you pulled it off,” Minerva remarked but there was a shine in her eyes.

“Yes, I hope I did too,” he said softly as they cut into his sponges and took a piece onto the plate set in front.

“The vanilla sponge looks well baked,” Albus commented, tapping his fork lightly over it. “But I fear you may have misjudged the timing for your chocolate sponge, it appears a bit underdone,” he remarked and Remus nodded. He figured. “Best to try it.”

The two judges put a piece of his cake into their mouths and looked thoughtful for a moment. “These flavors are wonderful. And it’s quite a feat that you got your chocolate sponge to rise and still have such a profound flavor. The pastry cream is a nice texture too,” Minerva commented and Remus smiled at her.

“Yes, this is very good indeed however your chocolate sponge is underbaked,” Albus continued and Remus nodded.

“Right, sorry about that,” he murmured.

“This is a very fine cake you have, Remus,” Albus finished and Remus tipped his head in thanks.

“I’ll jus’ be taking a piece o’ that,” Hagrid said sneakily, taking a piece of chocolate sponge with him and Remus snickered, gesturing for him to take as much as he pleased.

“Oi, mate, that’s amazing!” Sirius whispered from behind him and Remus turned to face him, both of them wearing dazed and happy smiles. Honestly, it went better than Remus had expected it to go for their first bake and he felt ready for the technical, though he didn’t want to be too cocky just yet.

When the judges got around to that bloke Lucius, the one across from Marlene, they couldn’t help but roll their eyes despite the large number of nerves setting their entire body on fire. Oh gods, they were the last to be judged and from what they were hearing, the majority of the others had done really well. The bar was too high!! Too high!! Marlene wished they were high right about now but instead they had to listen to Minerva and Albus be disappointed with the blond git’s bake. At least that was something positive for them. They had heard high praises for Lily and Dorcas’ bakes and they really enjoyed Alice’s flavors. Marlene thought for a second that Andromeda was going to get a Minerva McGonagall handshake and here they were with just a plain old orange-flavored sponge and some chocolate sauce.

They barely even registered when Hagrid addressed them due to never-ending nerves but stood up straight once they realized, watching Minerva and Albus inspect their sponge.

“Looks to be a very good bake and the chocolate has a beautiful shine to it,” Albus remarked and Marlene smiled a bit.

“Yeah let’s just hope the orange came through,” Minerva replied before putting her fork in her mouth. “And it does,” she added immediately after. “Beautifully, too,” she continued and Marlene’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“That’s a very lovely sponge you have there,” Albus praised and Marlene grinned at him.

“Thank you,” they said quietly and the group moved away.

There was a flurry of movements but they were told to leave the tent so they could prepare for the technical and so the camera crew could get a few testimonials from the contestants. They called out a few names of who they wanted.

“Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and Alice Fortesque,” one of the crew members shouted. “Everyone else, please exit the tent. You may wonder the grounds and enjoy something from the buffet but you are due back in a half-hour for the next bake!”

Marlene hurried out of the tent and into the fresh air, feeling as though they were able to breathe for the first time that morning. Gods, if that was what it was going to be like for the next ten weeks, they didn’t know if they could make it! That was one bake and they were already knackered! They would really need to pack a joint with them for their travels back home if that’s what it was going to be like.

“Hey, Marls! Where’re you headed?” a voice that she recognized as Dorcas shouted from a few meters away. They looked up and saw the dark-skinned girl with pale-skinned Lily by her side, both with wide smiles and welcoming hand gestures.

“Nowhere in particular!” they called back as they headed to join them on their walk.

They talked and gossiped about the first challenge. Lily ranted about the guy behind her, James Potter, being an absolute git who was too cocky for his own good. And while she did sound truly exasperated by this man, Marlene could also tell she fancied him even if it was just a bit. Lily didn’t seem like the type to appreciate being told this though so Marlene kept a tight-lip and settled for exchanging knowing glances with Dorcas who couldn’t hold back the smirk from her face. Gods, Marlene was absolutely smitten with that look and they couldn't even admit to themself. They wouldn’t be surprised if the word hypocrite was emboldened on their tanned forehead.

Sirius was a bit bummed that Remus got called for a testimonial. Not that he wanted to give one or anything but he was hoping he could drag the guy along with him and James during their break. James was great company though, he always had something to say and it was usually hysterical. It’s only been 24 hours since meeting the guy but it felt like they’d been friends since secondary school, if not before.

“Hey, mate, you there?” James’ voice filtered into Sirius’s thoughts and he snapped his head towards the man.

“Huh?” he managed gracefully.

“I said that bloke sitting in front of you seemed pretty cool,” James repeated, not letting on if he noticed Sirius blatantly ignoring him for a minute.

“Oh, Remus?” Sirius perked up causing James’s eyebrows to raise by a fraction before shrugging.

“I suppose if that’s his name,” he jabbed and Sirius laughed a laugh that sounded to be that of a bark. James quite enjoyed it and thought it fit Sirius’s persona perfectly.

“It is. And yeah, he’s very cool. Talked with him for a bit before we started,” Sirius insisted and James quirked a smile.

“Wanna grab a nightcap tonight? We can invite this Remus character as well,” James offered and Sirius’s eyes shone brightly. He couldn’t help it. Remus was cute.

“Yeah, sure! Sounds great to me, honestly anything to stay away from home for the night is good for me,” Sirius grinned.

“Well if that’s the case, then you’ll just have to get too drunk to go home Mr. Black, causing me to insist you stay the night at my place so I can be sure you don’t sick up in your mouth and choke on it,” James grinned and Sirius grinned back. They looked like a right pair of scoundrels right then even if they had no intention of getting drunk enough to even feel their cheeks grow warm. They had the blasted show-stopper tomorrow! They couldn’t make fools of themselves just because they had a pint too many!

“Is that a challenge Mr. Potter?” Sirius poked and James laughed.

“Is that how you see it?”

“Perhaps.”

“I think you mean mayhaps,” James corrected and Sirius snorted.

“You’re fucking weird, Potter. That something you learned in Godric’s Hollow, some posh lingo or whatever?” Sirius taunted playfully and James scoffed.

“You’re one to talk about bloody posh, mate. Sirius Black, named after a fucking star and grew up in rich London. I look like a right plebeian standing next to you. I might as well get down on my knees and kiss your—“

“Alright, alright, you can shut it now.”

“Eh, didn’t go too far did I?”

“Absolutely not, you prick. I’m just annoyed you refuse to acknowledge your own poshness, even if it’s more eccentric and fucking loony.”

“I’m not loony.”

“You just told me to say mayhaps.”

“As a joke!”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure.”

“You better watch your tongue, Sirius Black, I’m not afraid to tell on you to Minerva McGonagall! We’re close personal friends!” Sirius erupted into laughter and James followed suit. The break didn’t seem to last long enough.

Remus stood back at his station rather disgruntled despite having gotten high remarks from the judges. But the attitudes of the two other guys chosen were just abysmal and Remus did not feed well off of negative energy. Thankfully, the girl Alice was an absolute sweetheart and he managed to occupy his waiting time talking with her and ignoring the two other assholes. However, when Alice went to give her shpiel on the first bake, he was left alone with Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, neither of which displayed any kindness.

“That old bat doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Lucius had snarled.

“Neither of them can appreciate true artistry,” Severus had implored and Remus rolled his eyes but his ears burned as the man continued, “Praising an underbaked chocolate sponge. How very soft. I suppose they feel bad with all those scars. Paints a very interesting picture.”

“Hmph, I have to agree. And with all the praise for that brown skin and that black girl,” Lucius had sneered. Remus could tolerate slander directed at him but he drew the line at any kind of racism.

“Hey, you better shut the fuck up,” Remus snarled as he turned around. “To be quite honest I couldn’t give a damn about your bitterness towards the judging but don’t go blaming it on others and don’t you dare bring anyone’s race into this. They have just as much of a right as you or I do and the fact they’re better than you makes you feel inferior. Well, I got news for you mate. You are inferior. And if I ever hear you badmouthing anyone for their race, I will fucking slug you where you stand,” he bit out quietly and without wavering. “Fucking trash,” he gritted out, spitting at Lucius’s feet and glaring at Severus before turning back to ignore them.

The pair behind him continued their conversation much more quietly then and Remus failed to hear any of it but it wasn’t too much longer before Alice came back and Lucius left. She could sense his anger but didn’t ask him about, choosing instead to ask about what he did for a living.

So there he stood, his arms tightly crossed over his chest, glaring daggers into the back of Lucius Malfoy’s head, waiting for the hosts and the judges to arrive, signaling the start of their first technical challenge.

“Psst, Remus,”.said a voice behind him and he really thought about ignoring the guy just because he was in a foul mood. But he relented anyway because he had a feeling that Sirius wouldn’t stop calling out to him until he answered. He turned.

“What?”

“Wanna grab a pint with me and James after we wrap up for the day?” he asked with a brilliant smile and expectant eyes. His heart melted a bit at the sight and he smiled softly. It took him a minute to register what the guy had asked him and then he felt his cheeks flush. He was asking him to hang out after? Him? Remus Lupin?

“James?” Remus asked without thinking or hesitating and Sirius pointed his thumb over to the guy at the station across the way. The man called James smiled a brilliant smile and waved enthusiastically. Remus snorted.

“Sure,” he answered with an easy smile before turning back forward to hide his burning cheeks. He managed to catch a glimpse of Sirius’s own burning cheeks though and the thought made him warm inside.

The technical was a disaster. At least it was for Sirius. He couldn’t be sure about anyone else but he was sure he fucked up his bake beyond repair. All his good graces from the signature challenge would go out the window because he would surely be crowned twelfth place and he would have to claw his way through the ashes during the showstopper just to stay in the competition past the first week. He was embarrassed and he was annoyed with himself for cracking under pressure. Surely he could’ve handled twelve miniature tres leches cakes, right? But no, not at all apparently! His whipped cream was running, his sponges well weak and didn’t hold well after being doused in milk and to top it off, he cut his finger when slicing the strawberries! No one was having a worse time than him, surely.

Except for maybe Marlene McKinnon who was almost in tears at how everything was turning out. How could it be that only an hour ago they were making perfect whipped cream and now it just wouldn’t stiffen? They were on their third attempt and there was only five minutes left in the challenge so if it didn’t work then, they would be serving naked, milky sponges and they absolutely loathed the sound of that. They beat their whipping cream and sugar harder.

Remus Lupin felt oddly calm during the technical. His sponge came out well or so it appeared and he had no way of testing it, his milk concoction was mixed well and his whipped cream wasn’t grainy. All was well at station Remus and he was quite proud of himself although he doesn’t have the self-confidence to believe he’d place even in the top three. But he was still proud of himself.

“Alright bakers, that’s the end of your first technical, if you could, please bring your tres leches up to the Gingham altar and place them behind your visage!” Sluggy proclaimed and everyone seemed to take a collective breath as they stepped back for the first time since starting. Thankfully, Remus had just finished setting his last strawberry atop his cakes and couldn’t help but be pleased as he brought up his platter to the front. He was seventh in the judging so he’d have to wait for Albus and Minerva to get to his bake but he didn’t seem to mind actually was a nice change of events from this morning. He began to fear that his lack of anxiety would be his downfall though and that he’d be taken by surprise and his tres leches would actually be terrible and his sponge would be cracked and dry.

He sat in an odd mixture of fear and calm. But he was sat next to Sirius so that was nice. Sirius looked upset and Remus searched for his photo which was second from the start and frowned. They certainly weren’t the prettiest but they didn’t look awful and as long as they tasted good, he would be fine.

“It’ll be alright, mate,” Remus whispered, trying to sound encouraging and Sirius just shrugged. Remus risked it. He took Sirius’s hand and held it. Yes, he was attracted to the man but also they were in this together. As much as Bake Off was a competition, they were still fighting the same battles and Remus would hate to see Sirius feel alone during this. Luckily, Sirius held on.

“Right,” Minerva said, catching their attention and looking over the bakes with scrutiny. “Let’s see how they did, shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the first bake which was behind the photo of a man Remus had never talked to.

They seemed to enjoy it enough but remarked that the cakes weren’t milky enough and Remus had to stop from blanching at the term used. Milky. Ew. Gross. But they moved onto Sirius’s and the man held Remus’s hand tighter.

“These look a little… disordered,” Albus said serenely. “But hopefully the flavor is good,” he continued as he and Minerva put a piece in their mouths and immediately hummed in delight.

“Quite delicious,” Minerva remarked and Albus nodded in agreement as they moved onto the next bake which was Severus fucking Snape’s.

They didn’t like it. Good.

Next was the red-headed woman across from Remus and they really seemed to like it, stating it almost near perfection. Next came a brown-haired woman that Sirius’s hand tensed at when they got to it, causing Remus to frown. He hadn’t seen the man interact with that woman at all. Interesting.

After the brown-haired woman (Remus should really learn all their names), they moved onto the black woman who was stationed in front of Remus and they also really enjoyed hers, and then it was Remus. He gripped Sirius’s hand a bit tighter.

“They all look very neat which is good, let’s just hope they taste as good,” Minerva remarked as she put a bite in her mouth, Albus following suit. They hummed in approval.

“Quite delicious,” Albus remarked. “This one is going to be hard to judge I can see,” he continued and Remus had to school his face from beaming. But Sirius gripped his hand tighter which made Remus squeeze back.

James was after Remus and he did well but he had thirteen inside of twelve. (Sirius thought James would say something like ‘Well I should get extra points, right? It could’ve been eleven instead of thirteen.’ Sirius would have replied, ‘I think you’re just shit at maths, mate.’) A tanned girl with chestnut brown hair was after James and like Sirius, they looked very messy but the flavor was good.

“The cream is a bit too runny for my taste,” Albus commented and Remus sighed. This is not easy for anyone and it was only going to get harder. Minerva and Albus were picky.

They moved onto Lucius’s which weren’t even topped with whipped cream which made Remus smirk, and then they headed onto Alice who’s were satisfactory it seemed. And they ended with another guy who appeared slightly mousy and even his picture on the altar conveyed a strong sense of panic. He did what Remus would describe as a ‘meh’ job.

And then the judging. Remus kept waiting for his name and he held onto Sirius’s hand tightly and he couldn’t tell who was sweating more. Unsurprisingly, Lucius was last, then Severus, the mousy-looking boy, named Peter, was tenth, followed by the person with the chestnut brown hair, named Marlene, was ninth, followed by the first guy, Frank, then Alice, the woman that made Sirius tense up was named Andromeda and she was sixth. Sirius tensed up again and stayed that way when he was announced to be fifth.

“Sirius, overall a good set of bakes, just a bit of a mess,” Albus noted and Sirius smiled with a nod.

James was fourth and then came the top three which hadn't registered yet that Remus was in. But he quickly realized as Sirius squeezed his hand tightly and Remus held his breath.

“In third, is this one,” Minerva said, gesturing to the bake with the photo of the redhead who’s station was across from Remus’s. “Lily, a really good bake the sponge could be just a bit wetter.”

“These two were really hard to decide between, it was a really a toss up but in second is this one,” Albus stated and Remus raised his hand. Second in the technical! What the fuck! Is this the same Remus he woke up as this morning?

“So that means Dorcas, you are first,” Minerva smiled at the woman’s who station was in front of Remus and Lily leant forward to congratulate her and so did the guy named Frank. She was shocked.

Remus, Dorcas, Snape, and Lucius all got called for testimonials and again, Sirius was bitter. They had a few more things to film just to wrap up the day but either way, he was going to get a pint with Remus and James. But gods, what a day! He had a pretty good signature and he did well in the technical! And he made friends with the hot guy who sat in front of him! Maybe Bake Off is exactly what Sirius needed to turn his life around and to start actually living happily and not in his family’s shadow. It’s only been two days and he already feels like a different person and as long as he doesn’t muck everything up with the showstopper, he feels pretty confident he’ll make it to the next week.

He was packing up his things and also taking out some things he would be using for biscuit week next week just as preparation when Remus finally came back over. “Hey, mate! You did bloody amazing!” Sirius said happily and Remus beamed at him.

“Thanks, Sirius! You did really well, too!” he answered and Sirius grinned.

“Oi, Remus! Remus Lupin!” shouted a voice from across the tent. It was the redhead Lily that James was absolutely smitten with already.

“What?” he asked, his face neutral as she stomped over to him, an unreadable expression clouding her face.

“You and Dorcas, are you two some kind of wizards or something?” she asked, sniffing afterward and Remus grinned at her.

“What, jealous?” he asked, poking a bit of fun but the reddening of his cheeks was absolutely noticeable and Sirius smiled carefully to himself as he watched the exchange.

“Jealous? Me? Absolutely not,” she scoffed. But she smiled after. “Congratulations, you and her seem really fantastic at baking.”

“Hey, you do too,” he answered softly and she smiled at him.

“Yeah well, I was only complimenting you to make you more comfortable so you’d let your guard down,” she shrugged and Sirius watched Remus roll his eyes.

The two of them almost seemed like him and James in the sense that they immediately hit it off. There was no bite behind their words or actions, they were just banting with each other. Sirius felt a green ugly monster want to rear its head in the back of his mind but he quickly shut the door on it. He did not know Remus and he certainly did not know if he was even into blokes. Sure they held hands during the judging of the technical but it was just a high stakes situation. It didn’t mean anything.

“You’re Welsh, aren’t you?” she asked him and Sirius saw the honey-haired man nod out of the corner of his eye. “Could tell from the accent, eh. Well, I’m from Cokeworth, you know in the midlands. I reckon the train comes by both our stops so if you want a friendly face to sit by tomorrow, just shoot me a text. And maybe we could grab a quick cuppa in town before shooting in the morning,” she offered and Remus seemed to light up at the suggestion. It left a warm feeling spreading in his chest.

“That’d be nice! Here, let me give you my number,” Remus answered and both of them pulled out their phones, exchanging numbers and laughed.

“I’m gonna name you Wolf McWolf in my phone,” Lily snorted and Remus playfully glared at her.

“Uncalled for, ginger,” Remus shot back. “Just for that, you will be Little Red to me,” he grinned deviously and she scoffed back at him.

“Hey, there chums!” James’s booming voice interrupted and Sirius was grateful. He was growing tired of watching the two of them flirt or whatever. Yes, he was bitter. Yes, he was a petulant child sometimes. It came with the territory, he was used to getting what he wanted and he wanted Remus. Gods, he’s a mess.

“Ugh, you,” Lily sneered but there was no real malice behind it, Sirius noted. “What is it that you want?”

“The lads and I were going to grab a pint when we wrapped up here. I suppose you wouldn’t want to join us, Evans?” James inquired, his eyes shining brightly and when she snorted, his face fell a bit.

“Not tonight, we have the showstopper tomorrow. It’s rather immature of you to get a drink after today, you couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” she pointed out and James shrugged.

“We could also go tomorrow if you wanted to join then,” the brown-skinned boy offered eagerly and Lily tried to stop the smile from growing on her face.

“Well, we’ll see four eyes. If the three of you make it through tomorrow, then I will think about grabbing a drink with you lot,” she snorted and James was back to full-on grinning.

“Oh I think she’s challenging us, mate,” Sirius finally remarked, glancing over at his new friend who nodded solemnly.

“It would appear so, perhaps tonight we should practice one more time at my place,” James offered and Sirius couldn’t tell if he was serious or joking.

“Alright, everyone! That’s a wrap! See you all bright and early tomorrow! 8 am sharp!” Sluggy called and all of the contestants broke apart and finished getting everything ready for tomorrow. And then he headed out with his new best friend and his new crush. Bake Off was getting interesting.

Remus woke up the next morning with a fond smile already on his lips despite the ungodly hour of the morning he was awake at. The night before had been really fun for him and they hadn’t gotten drunk at all really, just enough to feel a slight buzz but with the promise that no matter what happened today, they would go out again after the showstopper and get properly smashed. Remus was looking forward to it.

He changed quickly and headed downstairs, kissing his mum on the cheek as he entered the kitchen. “Toast for my boy,” she said sweetly and Remus gave her a quick smile before stuffing a piece in his mouth.

“Nervous, fab?” (Nervous, son?) his dad asked from his usual seat at the table, the morning paper open in front of him.

“Ddim mewn gwirionedd, yn ddideimlad yn bennaf,” (Not really, mostly just numb.) Remus answered easily, being completely truthful. His nerves felt fried from yesterday and he knew he practiced as much as possible the weeks following up to the competition. He wouldn’t say he was ready and he also wouldn’t say it would turn out well or he was super confident. But he’d made as much peace as he possibly could with the weekend. Whatever happened would happen and he wouldn’t be able to change. (That’s not to say he wouldn’t be a mess during the actual competition, he figured it was kind of calm before the storm.)

He finished off his toast, grabbed his bag and rushed to the door so he could hurry to the train station. He couldn’t afford to be late.

“Let us know if you’ll be home late,” his mom called and he called back an acknowledgment.

“Hey Little Red, hopping on the train right now, second cart from the front,” Remus sent the message as the train pulled up to the station. He had only arrived a mere 30 seconds before.

Lily texted back immediately. “Sounds good, Wolfie. See u in a few.” Remus smiled and settled into a seat, taking out his headphones and shuffling his guilty pleasure playlist that’s filled with Britney Spears and Lady Gaga.

Lily joined him at the Cokeworth station and he quickly hid away his phone with the incriminating playlist and struck up a conversation. “So, you’re from Wales,” Lily stated and Remus raised an eyebrow.

“So I am,” Remus agreed.

“Speak Welsh?” she asked, light in her eyes and Remus snorted.

“Siarad Saesneg?” (Speak English?) he shot back and Lily grinned.

“Wicked,” she gasped. “What’s it like? Wales, I mean. I’ve never been despite it being just across the way,” she asked and Remus shrugged.

“Green, small, Welsh. I live just outside of Cardiff and the city’s rather nice. If I’m being honest I do love it, I just wish I could get out for a little,” he sighed.

“Like, uni or something? I mean I get it though, Cokeworth is small and everyone knows everyone. It’d be nice to get away but I can’t exactly afford uni,” Lily revealed and Remus looked at her for a second before nodding.

“Me too,” he answered. “I’ve always wanted to go, I love learning, I love studying, I love reading but, uh, we can’t afford it either,” he finished with a mumble and Lily gave him a piercing look. He felt uncomfortable. He knew his scars were noticeable and he knew people would always have questions but it wasn’t their business.

“I say go for it. We both should, money be damned,” Lily retorted finally and Remus raised an eyebrow. “You’re what? 21? I am too, it’s not too late, it’s never to late,” she continued and Remus smiled.

“How’d you guess my age?” he asked and she snorted.

“Didn’t you know? I’m a Seer,” she joked and Remus laughed. “By the way, did you know that Severus lives just over the tracks from me in Spinner’s End?” she added on and Remus tried not to let his mood turn sour. He didn’t want to talk about that dickhead.

“Oh how interesting,” he mused carefully and Lily’s face turned hard.

“The guy is a prick. We used to be friends, you know. When we tykes, inseparable and all that. But he changed and I tried hard to forgive him and help him but he’s just a slimy git,” she huffed and Remus glanced over at her.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely and she shrugged.

“Past is past, it’s just crazy to see him here after a couple of years of not seeing him and knowing he’s still the same twat he’s always been,” she sneered and Remus nodded.

“I had… a… friend like that,” Remus bit out, trying to keep himself under control as he thought about Fenrir fucking Greyback.

“I’m sorry, too then,” Lily said softly and Remus smiled at her.

“Eh, you know, past is past. A guy tries to rape, permanently disables you as a result, and then you beat the shit out of him. Casual, right?” he offered with a flimsy smile and Lily laughed. He was glad she did.

“You’re a right riot, mate,” she said. “At least you got him back and gave him what’s coming. Fuck that guy,” she continued and Remus scrunched his nose.

“Yeah well, now we’re on fucking Bake Off and Snape may be here too but there’s no way he’s winning. Not with you on the show too,” he offered and Lily rolled her eyes.

“Yeah I think you’re more of the threat to be completely honest,” she answered and Remus smiled a toothy grin.

“We’ll both give him a run of it,” he compromised and she smiled back at him.

“Deal.”

Remus was sure he and Lily would take the train to the tent together every morning they could. He was sure he’d just found a friend forever considering they’d just had a heart-to-heart at 7 in the morning on the way to a baking competition. Plus she shared part of her chocolate scone with him and he’d always been a sucker for chocolate.

Marlene got to the Bake Off grounds earlier than most, the only other person there was Frank Longbottom and they had a very brief but friendly exchange of hellos. Marlene just wanted to get there early to clear their head a bit and focus on the task at hand. They’d practiced their cake sculpture for weeks and they knew exactly what they needed to do in order for it to succeed. As long as there weren’t any major catastrophes, they’d be fine.

They were sat on a tree stomp only a small distance away from the tent when Dorcas Meadowed showed up out of nowhere and plopped down right next to them. “Morning,” Dorcas drawled out with too much pep in her step for 7:41 in the morning.

“Hullo,” Marlene answered with a very small smile. “Lovely day innit?” they asked and Dorcas scrunched her nose.

“Yeah, it is. But it got even better with you in it,” she answered and Marlene immediately blushed. Was this flirting or was she like this with everyone.

“I could say the same for you,” they answered cheekily. “But maybe if you brought me a coffee next time, it would be even better.”

Dorcas smiled. “Oh so, I’m not enough? Need coffee too? Alright, fine. How’d you take it? Black? Cream? Sugar?”

“Black,” Marlene answered back with a playful grin. “One sugar.”

“Oh that sounds gods awful,” Dorcas gagged and Marlene giggled.

“Hey, to each their own,” they snarked and Dorcas rolled her eyes.

“You nervous for today?” she asked and Marlene shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean I think it’d be weird if I weren’t,” they replied and Dorcas nodded.

“Me too, but also. Not really? I don’t know I guess I just feel confident,” she continued on and they nodded along.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good way to describe it,” Marlene concluded, smiling at Dorcas who smiled back.

“Wanna get a drink after today?” Dorcas asked and Marlene snorted but nodded at the same time.

“Yeah, I really do,” they answered. “If you’re interested I packed a joint in my bag, we could share if you want,” they continued and Dorcas lit up at the suggestion.

“Sneaky little thing, aren’t you?” she laughed before saying, “Yeah, that’d be nice. Need something to take the edge off with this competition.”

“Precisely my thoughts,” Marlene smiled and Dorcas smiled right back. Gods, they wanted to kiss her so badly but it’s been less than two days of knowing each other and that was way too forward. But still, the want was there.

James and Sirius showed up to the tent together as Sirius really did spend the night at James’s place. James was oddly kind and perceptive to Sirius’s weird moods when his home life was brought up and he had made a genuine offer for him to stay the night.

“That is if you don’t mind the lunacy of Godric’s Hollow,” James had snorted and Sirius grinned.

“No, I very much welcome lunacy,” he had replied and that was that. Sirius met Fleamont and Euphemia Potter and spent the night in the bedroom next to James. They hadn’t practiced the showstopper challenge like James had suggested earlier in the day but even if they wanted to, they would’ve been able to, considering the size of the Potter’s kitchen. It would send Wahlburga Black on a fucking rampage.

They took their stations easily and Sirius admired Remus from behind as the guy took a spot at the station in front of him, just like the day before. “Still on for tonight?” Sirius asked quickly and Remus turned around to smile and nod.

Sirius took a glance over to find James trying to chat up Lily again and he held back an eye roll. The guy was an absolute disaster but he seemed to thrive on being that way which made Sirius appreciate him even more. He, too, was an absolute disaster.

They settled in quickly after that and the cameras started rolling as Minerva, Albus, Sluggy, and Hagrid all walked in.

“Welcome to your very first showstopper!” Sluggy called out and Sirius leaned forward on his station, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear that fell loose from his bun. “Albus and Minerva would very much like you to make a sculpture of your favorite world monument out of cake. It can be the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, the Great Wall of China, anything you want but it must be made entirely out of cake and your landmark must be decorated to the highest degree,” he explained and everyone stared at him.

“Yeh have three and a half hours! So on yer marks!” Hagrid boomed.

“Get set!” Sluggy chimed.

“Bake!” the two hosts called together and Sirius rushed to start his bake.

Sirius ran through the process of making his batters very quickly, double-checking that his oven was preheating. He was briefly aware at some point that the judges were making their rounds and they were standing in front of Remus who was explaining his sculpture. He caught words like ‘Northern Wales’ and ‘Devil’s Bridge Fall’ but he was too focused on pouring his batter evenly to be able to entirely hear the explanation.

Just as he was ensuring the pans of batter were even and ready to go in the oven, he was interrupted. “Sirius! How are you today?” Sluggy asked cheerfully and the man smiled at the two judges and the host.

“Hello Minerva, Albus, Sluggy. I’m well today, a bit nervous, but okay,” he answered and they smiled back at him. He bent down to put his sponge batter into the oven. He needed them in as soon as possible.

“What are you preparing for the judges today? Where are you taking us?” Sluggy asked and Sirius held back an eye roll.

“Calais, France. I’ll be sculpting the Calais Lighttower out of raspberry and vanilla elderflower sponge with chocolate buttercream holding it together and fresh-made fondant covering the outside,” he explained and they nodded, obviously wanting more about why he chose the Lighttower. “My family, they have strong roots in France and I used to go there at least twice a year with them. I always loved Calais and the Lighttower is so beautiful, I hope I pay it homage well,” he continued and they seemed satisfied.

“That sounds lovely and you seem to have a lot to do so we’ll let you be,” Albus conferred and Sirius nodded his thanks before running to start his buttercream icing.

Before he knew it, there were five minutes left and Sirius was honestly not very pressed for time. He’d had some banter with the bloke behind him, Peter, as well as Remus which kept the mood light and calm (despite Peter’s obvious nerves and lack of time management; he seemed to be a good artist though). He didn’t have any trouble constructing the tower thankfully and the hardest part of covering it in fondant went better than it did when he’d practiced. All that was left was to imprint the brickwork of the tower with a toothpick and paint on some cracks with black dyed buttercream.

“Bakers, your time is up! Please step away from your bakes!” Sluggy called from the front and Sirius took a deep breath, taking in his full creation and feeling rather proud of it. It looked like a Lighttower and it was standing upright. He just hoped it tastes good. Sirius looked past his own bake and saw Remus’s and was astonished. It was amazing, it looked like he’d painted all the colors of the waterfall and greenery onto the buttercream. And there was a bridge made out of chocolate work that was spectacular. Unless it tasted like horse shit, Sirius was positive that Remus would be Star Baker. The guy was bloody brilliant.

“That looks amazing, Rem,” Sirius gushed and he saw him blush while muttering a quiet thank you as they settled in for the judging to start.

They started with Marlene and went up her row. Sirius watched as Andromeda displayed a beautiful Eiffel Tower and tried not to seethe as she got glowing reviews. He liked Andromeda, she was always his favorite cousin but she was still part of his family and he did not do well with family. Thankfully, neither of them had tried to make contact with each other and that’s how he really preferred it.

James had a beautiful Taj Mahal but apparently, his flavors were a little lacking and Severus’s looked pretty terrible but apparently tasted great. It was a shoddy Big Ben and Sirius thought him to be a prick. He’d never had a conversation with the guy but he just seemed like a fucking douchenozzle.

They went down Sirius’s row and that bloke Lucius who’d been mucking everything up had a lackluster showstopper and Sirius couldn’t even make out a church building let alone the Norte Dame, Alice’s was average it seemed to be, Dorcas’ received rave reviews and Remus’s received glowing remarks about design (as it should’ve). They liked the taste of it and Remus was absolutely blushing on his walk back. It was a great look on him.

“Sirius, would you please bring up your monument,” Sluggy encouraged and he stood for his moment of truth. Honestly, if anyone besides Lucius was booted this weekend, Sirius would be shocked but needless to say, he didn’t feel too particularly nervous about judging. He didn’t know if that was good or bad.

“Well it certainly looks fantastic,” Albus remarked. “Very tall.”

“Yes, the fondant looks well made and it’s homemade?” Minerva asked and Sirius nodded.

“Yes, it is.”

They sliced through it and the whole thing remained standing, thankfully. They inspected his sponge thoroughly.

“Both looked to be well baked and the buttercream is nice and smooth,” Minerva inspected. The raspberry sponge is a brilliant pink and the vanilla elderflower sponge looks quite airy. Let’s just hope we actually get the elderflower flavor along with the vanilla,” she continued and Sirius watched as they put a piece in their mouths.

Albus hummed. “That raspberry is quite lovely with the chocolate buttercream, sharpness and sweetness both come through really well,” he said simply.

“Yes, I quite agree and it’s a beautiful texture, a wonderful bake on this one. Now for elderflower and vanilla,” Minvera remarked, taking a bite onto her fork, Albus following her lead.

After a second she sighed, “Pity. The elderflower doesn’t come through at all really and the vanilla flavor is very overpowering.” Sirius nodded.

“It’s a bit dry too,” Albus added and he nodded again.

“Thank you,” he murmured, waking forward to receive his bake and head back to his station.

Peter was last and he did fine but not good and that was that. They had a quick break while the judges deliberated, all of them gave small testimonials and then they convened back in the tent for the final judging of the week. All of this was a whirlwind for Sirius, he was dead on his feet but he was still ready to go out for the night with Remus and James.

“This week, I have the pleasure of announcing Star Baker. This baker seems to have an eye for chocolate and a hand for design. Remus, you are this week’s Star Baker,” Sluggy announced and Sirius leaned over the person named Marlene and patted his thigh, congratulating him as he sat there absolutely awestruck. Lily patted his head in congratulations and Sirius sat back in his seat.

“Now I ‘ave the very, very, very sad job of telling yeh who’s leavin’ us this week. I tell yeh, I don’ wanna see any of yeh go and I barely even know yeh!” Hagrid exclaimed, almost crying it seemed like. “This week, the one who’ll be leavin’ us is…” Everyone held their breath but Sirius felt as though it was more for show rather than actual nerves. It could only be one person. “… Lucius.”

Lucius stood up and gave a curt nod and sneered a little but everyone still stood and gave hugs for the week as was tradition on the show. Albus and Minerva went around and congratulated everyone, gave advice to those who seemed to need it, praises to those who deserved it, all while Remus was bombarded with hugs and Lucius was not approached at all very much.

It took too long for the camera crew to call cut on the day in Remus’s opinion but he did cry when he called his mom to tell her he got Star Baker. He honestly couldn’t believe it, he really thought Dorcas deserved it more than him and told her so. She told him to shut up and be more confident in his abilities.

But now, he was heading into the nearby town with James and Sirius to grab a quick drink and maybe get drunk. He was going to get drunk. For sure. Especially with Sirius and James, they seemed to be the types to get absolutely hammered when possible. Lily had in fact tagged along like she said she would and she brought Marlene, Dorcas, and Alice with her.

Remus got progressively more drunk and closer to Sirius throughout the night. Alice left rather early, Marlene and Dorcas spent the entire time talking with each other and Remus almost asked why they hadn’t started making out yet. (Honestly, he might’ve said it later in the night but he was a bit too drunk to fully remember.) James and Lily were talking almost the entire time and she had a hard time pretending to be annoyed by him, even when he really was annoying.

Sirius and Remus spent the entire night talking and he’s pretty sure Sirius told him his whole life story and Remus was also sure he told Sirius his but he was even more sure neither of them would remember in the morning.

Near the end of the night, Remus sent his mum a text that he wasn’t coming home because he was staying the night at one of the other contestant’s houses with a few other people. Lily made sure Marlene and Dorcas got home safe, promising that all three of them would text in the giant group chat they started at the bar. And then he settled in bed with Sirius and James, all three of them muttering drunken nonsense.

“Guys, I have work tomorrow,” Remus murmured, his cheek pressed against Sirius’s arm.

“You can’t go Moony, you’re Star Baker,” Sirius slurred and Remus laughed a very drunk laugh that was all deep and stomach-ish.

“Moony?” he asked.

“Awhooo! Wolf Wolf,” Sirius murmured back. “Moony.”

“Doggy,” James drawled and Sirius pushed him a bit. “Sirius star, Canis Major,” he explained weakly.

“Not Doggy,” Sirius huffed.

“Toebeans,” Remus said flatly. James snorted loudly.

“Absolutely not,” Sirius growled.

“Padfoot,” James stated easily and Sirius huffed as Remus cheered.

“Padfoot!”

“Wha bout me?” James slurred.

“‘Ou got big ears and you get tha-.. tha-.. you know…. ahh-face like that… thing,” Sirius said in an extremely unhelpful manner.

“Oh, I know like the uh… animal.. that..” Remus added trailing off and James let out a noise of impatience.

“What?” he whined, drawing it out as his new friends were being extremely unhelpful. “Moony, Padfoot,” he cried and both other men laughed but Sirius hiccuped loudly causing Remus and James to laugh again.

“Hm, Prongs,” Sirius said, snuffling further into the pillow of James’s bed, perfectly content between his two friends.

“Hm yeah,” Remus agreed. “I have work tomorrow,” he said again and James reached over and pushed on his arm.

“Shu up, Star Baker,” he grumbled. “Tell them no. We have bacon here and you live in fucking Welsh,” James murmured, pressing his face into his pillow.

“Wales,” Remus corrected. “Bachgen ceirw mud,” (Dumb deer boy.) he muttered. James said something absolutely unintelligible

“Hmm quiet, sleepy time,” Sirius yawned and neither of the other two boys said anything as they both thoroughly agreed. It was indeed time for bed.

And Remus did not end up going to work the next day, instead, he spent the day extremely hungover with his two newest and best friends: Padfoot and Prongs. He loved Bake Off before, but now he absolutely adored it.

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