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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

Laundry Wars

Pairing: college!Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: enemies to lovers! you can’t stand the boy who keeps stealing your dryer

Masterlist

Peter walked into the laundry room once his timer had gone off, signaling that his wash was ready. After emptying his wet clothes into his hamper, he stood in front of the dryers and sighed. Surprisingly, 10 dryers were not enough for the 800 students in the dorm building to use. And with three always broken, it was nearly impossible to get a dryer. That led to air drying, which led to a fun little mildew smell, which drove Peter crazy.

This time, Peter noticed a dryer was done, but still full of clothes. He looked around the laundry room and found no one, and that’s when he decided to be a bit of a dick. He knew it wasn’t nice to take people’s clothes out of the dryer, but he was desperate. He had a class in 10 minutes and didn’t have time to wait for a dryer. He gave the room one last look around before crouching down in front of the dryer and taking out the clothes. They were girl clothes, from the looks of it, and he blushed a little when pulling a bra out of the dryer. He left the clothes in a pile on top of a washing machine before putting his own clothes inside and leaving.

The laundry room was empty when Peter returned two hours later. He noticed that the pile of clothes he had taken out was missing, and felt a pang of guilt for that. Knowing there was nothing he could do about that now, he set his hamper down and bent down in front of his dryer. He was greeted with a sticky note that he could only assume was left by the last user of the dryer that read:

“Fuck you :)”

Peter chuckled at the note and tucked it into his pocket before gathering his warm clothes.

The next week, the same thing happened. The dryer was done but the owner of the clothes was nowhere to be found. As Peter was emptying the clothes out of the dryer, he recognized the same pillow case from the last time he took out the clothes. He chuckled slightly as he remembered the note that had been left for him, assuming the person who’s dryer he was taking would be leaving a similar one once they came down to collect their things.

Just as Peter was adjusting the settings on the dryer, he heard a hamper drop on the ground behind him.

“So you’re the one who’s been taking my dryer.”

Peter turned around slowly, caught red handed in stealing your dryer. When he caught sight of you and your unamused smirk, his face heated up in embarrassment. You had your arms crossed and your hip cocked to the side, and your face told him that you were pissed off. Angry girls were scary enough, but angry pretty girls made the hair on the back on Peters neck stand up.

He wasn’t expected to be caught taking your dryer, but he definitely wasn’t expecting you to be the most gorgeous girl he had ever seem.

“I only took it because you didn’t get your stuff out in time.” Peter said calmly. “People are waiting, you know.”

“My timer just went off and it took me less than a minute it get down here.” You held up your phone to show him your timer. “You didn’t need to take out my stuff.”

“I’ve been waiting for over 15 minutes and this stuff can’t air dry.” Peter shrugged. “Your dryer was done and I needed it, so I took your stuff out.”

“Aw, could the little baby not wait his turn?” You pouted as you mocked him. Peter’s jaw dropped a little when your lashed your sharp tongue at him.

“I did wait my turn.” He insisted. “You were late.”

“By less than a minute.” You snapped.

“Sucks to suck.” Peter shrugged, gulping nervously when your face shifted to a look of shock.

“I bet you wouldn’t know.” You shot back, letting your eyes flicker to his crotch to drive your point.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter squinted at you as you insulted his manhood.

“It means stop taking my dryer.” You snapped before sashaying out of the laundry room. Peter stood there for a moment, shellshocked from the interaction. One the one hand, the prettiest girl in his college hated him. On the other hand, the prettiest girl in his college hated him. Peter knew engaging in a battle of the dryers with you wouldn’t end well, but he also knew the middle part was going to be super fun.

You took the elevator down to the laundry room the following Wednesday after your alarm had gone off. You had managed to get a lot of homework done while you waited for your dryer, so you were in a relatively good mood. That mood quickly faded as you entered the room and saw a familiar brown haired boy crouching in front of your dryer. Your eyes shifted to the right, where you saw a pile of your clothes sitting on a washing machine.

“Don’t even tell me.”

“Hey.” Peter turned around and waved weakly at you. “Nice to see you again.”

“You seriously took my stuff out of my dryer again?” You grunted as you went over to your pile of clothes. You began to put the clothes into your hamper and immediately felt something you didn’t like.

“Oh my God.” He heard you groan from behind him.

“What?” He looked over his shoulder to ask you.

“My underwear is wet thanks to you, that’s what.” You spat as you angrily dropped your underwear back into your hamper.

“Excuse me?” Peter sputtered.

“My clothes aren’t fully dry.” You repeated as you threw your underwear at him at full speed. It hit him in the chest and he instinctively caught it, blushing a little when he realized what he was holding.

“You feel that? That’s wet. My stuff should still be in there.” You angrily pointed at your dryer, which was now full of Peters clothes.

“Well your cycle was done.” Peter defended himself. “I didn’t know it was still wet.”

“You would have known had you waited the 40 seconds it took me to get down here.” You grumbled.

“Maybe you should’ve gotten down here before your cycle was up so you could check if it was done or not.” Peter matched your angry tone and you let out a sharp laugh.

“I’m sorry, did I miss the town hall meeting on when to check your fucking dryer?” You shot back.

“Ooo. Potty mouth. Real classy.” Peter taunted you. You raised your eyebrows and grabbed your hamper, never breaking eye contact with him as you walked up to him.

“Choke.” You whispered in his face as you grabbed your panties from him. Peter shivered as your fingers brushed, making you smirk at him before you waltzed out of the room.

“Bye.” Peter squeaked out, but you were already gone.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You groaned as you entered the laundry room the following week and saw your clothes in a pile on top of a washing machine.

“Your cycle was-“

“Don’t you talk to me about my cycle.” You cut Peter off as you stormed over to your clothes.

“I needed a dryer.” Peter shrugged. “Your dryer was done.”

“yOuR dRyEr wAs dOne.” You mimicked his voice as you put your clothes in your hamper.

“Wow.” Peter nodded. “Real mature.”

“I’ll show you mature.” You chuckled angrily. “Next time you take my stuff out of the dryer, I’m gonna come down here and shit in your laundry.”

Peters jaw dropped a little and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m kidding, Jesus Christ.” You scoffed at him. “Just don’t do it again or I’ll tell the RA you have a microwave in your room. No heat products or you’re kicked out.”

“If you came down on time, I wouldn’t have to take your stuff out.” Peter reminded you, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement when you looked at him.

“I did come down on time.” You grouched. “The elevators take a little longer to come down sometimes. I get here when I get here. You can wait.”

“Not if I have a zoom class.” He said.

“Not if I have a zoom class.” You mimicked him again in a high pitched voice.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Peter told you. “You could try treating people with kindness. We might be friends if you did.”

Your jaw dropped and Peters chest tightened as you walked up to him.

“I wouldn’t be your friend if I was dying and your friendship was the antidote.” You grumbled.

“That’s a bit dramatic.” Peter said with a smug smirk, only making you angrier.

“You want dramatic?” You smiled sweetly at him. “How about this? The next time I see you, it better be because I opened a newspaper and saw your obituary.”

“You want me dead because I stole your dryer a few times?” Peter forced a laugh. “That’s a little extreme.”

“Not as extreme as me shitting in your laundry.” You patted his cheek before walking towards the exit. Peter was once again frozen from the physical contact and stood there like a statue as he watched you leave.

“That’s a weird threat.” Peter called out once he regained composure, but you were too far away to hear.

“Look who set a timer.” Peter smiled as he came into the laundry room one week to find you taking your clothes out of a dryer.

“Look who could not be more obnoxious if he tried.” You said sarcastically as you stood up.

“Aw, there’s that attitude.” Peter teased you. “Did you miss me?”

“The only time I miss a boy is when I swing at him and he ducks.” You snapped, finally turning around to face him.

“That’s not very nice.” Peter pouted as he began to transfer his clothes from the washing machine to the dryer. “Do you ever wonder how we always end up doing laundry on the same day?”

“No. I don’t think about you.” You scoffed as you set your hamper down and began to fold your clothes. You normally didn’t fold your clothes in the laundry room, but you wanted to continue talking to Peter. You jumped a little when you felt Peter come up behind you, his breath hot on your neck.

“Don’t you?” He mumbled, lips almost touching the skin of your shoulder.

“Fuck off.” You whipped around you pushed him slightly. “You can dry your untouched little boy boxers in a minute.”

“Do you have a problem with me?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Have I offended you somehow?”

“Your existence offends me.” You retorted.

“Aw, why is that?” Peter tilted his head.

“Because you took my stuff out of the dryer and made it smell like mildew.”

“Wow.” Peter pretended to wipe tears form his eyes. “Sad for you.”

“Take your damn dryer and leave me alone.” You hissed at him as you collected your hamper. “Get a life while you’re at it.”

“I’ll get a life once you get a-“

“Don’t say it.” You barked. Peter shrugged, deciding to really push your buttons today.

“Get a-“

“Don’t.” You warned him.

“A-“

“Shut up.”

“Get a timer.” Peter whispered before dashing out of the room.

The next week, things were a little different. Instead of engaging in a battle over the dryers, you and Peter found yourselves doing laundry at the same time. You saw him pouring his detergent into a cup to measure it and scoffed as you took the washing machine across from him. He looked at you and gave you a pointed look and you just rolled your eyes at him. You kept your eyes down and focused on the task at hand, feeling Peters eyes staring you down the entire time.

“What are you looking at?” You sneered at Peter as you made eye contact across the washing machines for the fourth time.

“I’m just looking up.” Peter said innocently. “You happen to be in my eye line, is all.”

“Well start looking down before I come over there and make you.” You warned him.

“Make me what? Look down?” He questioned. “I don’t see how you could do that without physical force.”

“Oh there will definitely be physical force.” You promised him.

“Is that a threat? Do I need to call the RA?” Peter said just to annoyed you, which worked.

“God, you are so annoying!” You yelled at him. “Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, and don’t take my stuff out of the dryer.”

“I wouldn’t have to-“

“I get it.” You cut him off. “You want me to set a timer, and I want you to drop dead. We both have goals.”

“Are you this rude to everyone or just me?” Peter leaned on his washing machine to ask.

“Just you.” You smiled sarcastically at him before storming out of the room.

A few hours later, Peter returned to the laundry room to collect his now dried clothes. He still had a few minutes until his cycle was done, so he leaned his back against it and took out his phone. Within a few seconds, he heard footsteps, followed by a sigh.

“So we meet again.” Peter smiled cheekily at you as you entered the laundry room. You rolled your eyes at him and went directly to your dryer.

“We washed our loads at the same time.” You said dully. “Obviously they were going to finish at the same time. Don’t act so surprised.”

“Ew. Don’t call them loads.” Peter grimaced.

“You have a problem with loads?” You cocked your head. “Loads.”

“Stop saying loads.” Peter repeated.

“I’m talking about laundry.” You said innocently. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“You put it there.” Peter defended. “You knew what you were doing.”

“I always know what I’m doing.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Clearly you don’t, since you decided to engage in a war with me.”

“Oh yeah? What, am I on your bad side now? Do I not want to see you when you’re angry?” Peter laughed meanly as he teased you.

“I’m just saying, I know where your laundry is.” You folded your arms and shrugged. “I also know where the bleach is.”

“I thought you were going to shit in it.” Peter smirked.

“I knew you thought that was funny.” You cracked a smile at him, the first one he’d seem from you. “I live rent free in your brain, don’t I?”

“No.” Peter said quickly as his face turned red.

“Really? Because I think I do.” You stepped closer to him and walked your fingers up his chest. “I bet you think about the girl you keep running into in the laundry room when you’re trying to focus on class. I bet you hope I’m down here every time you come to wash your clothes. And I bet you take my stuff out just to have an excuse to talk to me. I bet you’re obsessed with me.” You smiled in his face, noses almost rubbing.

“I am not.” He stammered. “You just take too long to take your stuff out.”

“Oh yeah?” You tilted your head. “So when you’re on Zoom, bored out of your mind because I know you’re not studying anything interesting, I don’t cross your mind?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe you.” You said in a sing song voice.

“You don’t believe me or you’re upset with my answer?” Peter took a step towards you, giving himself the upper hand.

“Why would I be upset that a little creep like you wasn’t thinking about me?” You scoffed. “I don’t want you to think about me.”

“I think you do.” Peter poked your chest, making you back up. You slowly walked backwards as Peter gained on you. “I think you’re hoping, begging, praying that you cross my mind every now and then. Since I obviously run around yours like it’s my day job.”

“You wish I thought about you.” You taunted as you back hit the wall.

“I know you do.” Peter whispered as he leaned over you.

“No, I don’t.” You gulped. “You wish I thought about you.”

“You do realize how childish this argument is, right?”

“It’s hard to have an intelligent conversation with an actual child.” You smiled innocently at him.

“I’m worlds more mature than you.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee it.”

“Oh, please.” You laughed. “You’re an impatient little baby who never learned to wait his turn. I bet you’ve never worked a day in your life.”

“Oh yes I have.” Peter back away from you and folded his arms. “I’ve had a job since I was 15. If you knew half the things I’ve done, you’d be falling at my feet, begging for forgiveness.”

“What have you done?” You scoffed. “Besides consistently piss me off.”

“I can’t tell you.” Peter chewed his lip, realizing he backed himself into a metaphorical corner.

“You can’t tell me?” You feigned a gasp. “Could it be because this job doesn’t exist?”

“It does exist.” Peter insisted. “It’s just not something you would understand.”

“Aw, my tiny woman brain can’t handle your really super important, manly man job? You should hear yourself.” You mocked him.

“That’s not what I meant.” Peter sighed. “I mean it’s hard to explain.”

“We have 8 minutes until our loads are done.” You gestured to the dryers. “Take all the time you need.”

“I-I can’t.” Peter stammered. He was growing more frustrated as he couldn’t explain to you what his job was, as if you’d ever believe him anyway.

“Uh huh.” You patted his chest and moved past him. “Well when you get a chance to Google it and come up with something, let me know.”

“I don’t have to Google it. I have a real job.” Peter called after you as you went back to your dryer. He was more than angry now with your dismissive attitude.

“I’m sure you do.” You said sarcastically as you took your clothes out early. “Being a dick head isn’t a job, you know. Not a paying one at least.”

You walked over to the garage to empty out your lint trap, and Peter decided he had enough. He shot a web at your hip and pulled it, making you twirl across the room and stumble into his arms.

“What in the holy fuck-“ You looked at the web in disbelief as Peter caught you by the waist.

“I have a job.” Peter repeated. “A really, super important, manly man job, or whatever you want to call it.”

To Peters surprised, you were less than impressed. In fact, you looked a little terrified. You slipped out of Peters embrace like he was made of thorns and pushed him away from you.

“Stay away from me.” Your voice shook as you grabbed your hamper. “I mean it.”

You ran out of the room like you were scared for your life, leaving Peter dumbfounded as his dryer went off.

“Well that didn’t go well.”

Peter didn’t see you in the laundry room for the next few weeks. He got the feeling you were avoided him, and that left him with a sick feeling in his stomach. The stress and anxiety of knowing you were scared of him, as well as knowing you knew his secret and were nowhere to be found manifested in a large pimple on his chin. It was the painful kind that was under the surface of the skin, and Peter felt like it was exactly what he deserved.

Three weeks since the incident in the laundry room, yours and Peters dorm building had an emergency evacuation late one night. Disgruntled students in their pajamas and blankets shuffled out of the building in huge masses as sirens went off. Peter heard rumors of a broken elevator as he desperately searched the crowd for you.

You ended up by the stairwell in a thin shirt and pajama shorts, deeply regretted your choice of pajamas as the cold New York air chilled you. You were rubbing your arms to keep yourself warm when you suddenly felt a blanket being draped over your shoulders. You looked up and saw Peter, who was looking away from you.

“Nice chin zit.” You commented as you pulled the blanket tightly around your shoulders. You had been hesitant to see him since the incident, but you were desperate to keep warm. Peter didn’t respond and continued looking off in the distance with a forlorn look on his face.

“So you’re just gonna wrap a blanket around me and say anything?” You scoffed. “Who are you, Boo Radley at the end of To Kill A Mockingbird?”

“You told me not to talk to you.” Peter said calmly. “Also, you didn’t have to specify what book Boo Radley is from. I’m pretty sure everyone had to read that book.”

“I wasn’t clarifying the book, I was clarifying what part of the book.” You narrowed your eyes at him and looked away. Once you had broken eye contact, you tugged the blanket tighter around yourself to keep warm.

“Wait, that wasn’t at the end.” Peter realized. “He put a blanket around Scout when the neighbors house burned down and they were all outside at night. The ending was when he killed a Bob Ewell.”

“I’m walking away now.” You began to walk away as he described the entire ending of To Kill A Mockingbird.

“Wait.” Peter gently grabbed your arm. “Can we talk about what happened between us?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said quickly and tried to leave again. Peter caught up to you and stood in front of you so you couldn’t leave.

“I think you do. And I need to know you won’t tell other people about what I’m talking about.” He said quietly, looking around for any witnesses.

“Why would I tell anyone?” You asked him. “I don’t even care.”

“You reacted like you care.” He pointed out and then quieted down. “Why did you react like that?”

“Like what?” You wondered why he was acting so strange.

“You ran away.” He stated, hurt evident in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and shrugged.

“I don’t know.” You said. “You’re a freak who can shoot webs from his wrist. What was I supposed to do?”

“Were you scared of me?” He asked softly, searching your eyes for answers.

“Look, I told you to stay away from me.” You spat. “Just respect what I asked.”

You walked away again but Peter followed.

“Wait.” Peter caught up to you. “I want to talk to you.”

“Why?” You whined. “You don’t even know my name. We’re not friends. We just see each other in the laundry room sometimes. Just leave me alone.”

“I’m Peter.” Peter blurted out, making any attempt he could to get you to stay.

“What?”

“Peter Parker.” He reiterated. “I’m a biomedical engineering major with a minor in chemistry.”

“Okay nerd.” You snorted. “What do you want me to do about that?”

“Tell me who you are.” He asked shyly.

“Why?” You asked him. “Why do you want to know?”

“So we can become friends.” He said like it was obvious. “I kinda told you my biggest secret and I’m starting to freak out a little.”

“That was your call.” You reminded him. “I didn’t make you tell me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but immediately shut it. His eyes glassed over and his face flushed, not from your presence, but from anxiety. You noticed the shift in his body language and felt a pang of guilt.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” You admitted. “I’m a Human Services major. I’m trying to become a social worker and I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

“Are you scared of me, Y/n?” Peter used your name for the first time. He still needed his question from earlier to be answered so he could rest easy.

“No.” You said softly. “I’m not scared. I just don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” Peter asked as he moved closer to you.

“How the superhero I’ve been crushing on for years is the obnoxious little brat I fight with in the laundry room.” You laughed a little in disbelief as your face heated up. Peter’s eyes widened at your confession and turned away so you wouldn’t see his excitement.

“You have a crush on me?” He asked in disbelief.

“Relax.” You snarked. “I have a crush on Spiderman. Spider-Man doesn’t steal my dryer.”

“I hate to break it to you, but he does.” Peter said sheepishly. He was making good progress with you and he didn’t want it to stop.

“I don’t like this plot twist.” You shook your head. “How can I hate you but love Spider-Man?”

“Maybe you can stop hating me.” Peter suggested.

“Nah.” You smiled tightly at him. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Maybe I can change your mind.” Peter smiled coyly. “And by the way, I’m not exactly in love with you either.”

“Aren’t you?” You tilted your head and gave him your best smile.

“We’re not doing this again.” Peter groaned and shook his head.

“Chicken.” You snorted.

“I have a feeling this is gonna be a while.” Peter said as he looked around. “We could go somewhere and continue this conversation. Do you want to grab coffee?”

“It’s 10:45 and I have an 8 am tomorrow. I’m not drinking coffee right now.” You said flatly.

“Oh, okay.” Peter nodded sadly as you rejected his invitation. You smiled softly at him and rolled your eyes before taking his hand.

“Come on.” You tugged him towards the sidewalk. “Let’s go get hot chocolate.”

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butwhyduh · 4 years ago

Text

A Date to Remember

Damian Wayne x Superman’s daughter reader

Damian is 20, reader 19, Jon is her little brother at 18 and Kon acts like an older brother to her.

Warning: angsty and kidnapping

You’d always told Damian that the sunset on the Kent farm was the best in the world. Damian smiled a little as he drove down the long road to Smallville. Damian had thought about classic dinner date in one of Metropolis’ fanciest restaurants but you insisted on meeting him in a barn.

He felt underdressed. Blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Why did he let Jon help him get dressed? He felt ridiculous but at least he wore sensible shoes. But deep down Damian knew you world like it. And he was certainly willing to feel a little foolish for you.

Clark was off world and Lois was on a mission. Jon had his own date in the city so it was the both of you alone tonight. How long had it been since the two of you were alone without someone around? Between his half a dozen brothers and your family with literal super hearing... yeah it’s been tough. So being 50 miles from everyone was kind of a dream.

Damian pulled in the driveway with some flowers and walked up to the house. He knocked on the door only for it to swing open. Damian noticed the splintered door frame and his heart sped up. He called your name. Act like the rich billionaire son while working like Robin, even though he wasn’t quite sure he still wanted the name.

He scanned every surface and he noticed a small scratch near the back door after looking through every room. Most people wouldn’t even notice it. You weren’t there. He looked closely and saw drag marks in the gravel path to the barn. His heart was thundering at this point. You weren’t in the barn either.

You were half Kryptonian but the genetic inheritance was complicated. Jon had won the lottery with having most of his father’s powers and not being as sensitive to Kryptonite. You had lost it. Hypersensitive to Kryptonite and only some speed and increased hearing and strength. Barely about the average human. You weren’t a fighter.

Damian pulled out his phone to call Jon.

“Bit busy here, Damian,” Jon said, sounding far from amused. Damian could hear kissing noises in the background and frowned. He didn’t want to hear that.

“Your sister is missing,” he said and he heard a lot of movement on the phone.

“What??”

“The door jam was kicked in and there are scrap marks of her being dragged away. I think she’s been kidnapped,” Damian said. His voice felt tight. He, son of Batman, let his girlfriend get kidnapped. “Whoever it was clearly waited until she had no other Kryptonians around to grab her. It wasn’t a coincidence that she was taken tonight. Can you get out here? I’m calling father to try and trace her. Her phone is missing too.”

“I’m leaving in 5. Damian, if Luther has her, she can’t handle Krytonite,” Jon said, worry bleeding into his voice. “It’s like it poisons her.”

“I know. But we don’t know who has her. Let’s hope they don’t know she’s part Krytonian,” Damian said, already mentally moving on to his next step. Contact Bruce. Get the bat computer to trace her. Look for more evidence. Don’t freak out completely that she might be poisoned by Kyrotonite.

“Okay. I’m about to fly. I’ll see you soon,” Jon said before hanging up.

——————————

You woke up with a cough. You head throbbed and your stomach rolled as you laid in a bed? Maybe a couch? It was a horrible feeling but you knew exactly what it was: Kryptonite. You couldn’t forget what how that stuff made you feel. You tried to look around to see it but the room was completely dark. Night vision would be nice but you got human eyes. Your slightly enhanced hearing heard nothing but the wind outside. Okay, you were ground level or higher.

You tried to twist in the cuffs that bound your hands only to cry out. There was the Kryptonite. It was on the outside of the cuffs and you almost threw up at it touched your skin. You were cuffed with Kryptonite to a hospital bed, you figured. What other bed had areas perfect for cuffs? Your legs were equally restrained and you felt so exposed in the dark room.

Your dad was off world. He wouldn’t hear you if you called for him. But Jon might. But if you yelled, someone might come in and who knows what they would do. You’d wait a little bit longer. You wanted to fall asleep. The Kryptonite made you feel so dull. Like the first time you were exposed to it.

You were all of 4 years old. Your dad had brought you with him to the Justice League meeting. Relatively safe and Batman promised Robin would watch you. Dick was so excited to be a babysitter. You had hugged him tight enough to hurt before running to the climbing wall.

“Hey!” Called the 16 year old. “I brought games instead!”

You warily walked back over to him and card games and board games fell out of a duffle bag as he opened it. Half the stuff you were far too young for. You bent down as he scooped up his gameboy. You pulled out some games and open a side pocket to grab a small metal box. Dick sat down his gameboy carefully before turning back to you.

“Don’t open th-“ he started before you pulled open the box to show a bright green stone. Followed by you throwing up all over his bag of games. You dropped the box and sat on the floor. Dick quickly closed the box with the piece of Kryptonite and put it in his pocket. He had boroughed one of Bruce’s bags that apparently wasn’t fully unpacked.

“Dad, I don’t feel good,” you said as Clark ran over. Dick looked at you so guiltily.

“I didn’t know,” he swore. “I’m so sorry.” Bruce stood by quietly.

“We need to talk later,” Clark had told Bruce and yeah, they were mad at each other for a while.

——————————————

Jon arrived shortly in a dress shirt and slacks and he looked at Damian just as weird as Damian looked at him. They had basically switched clothing.

“Not to judge but that’s date clothing? You told me to not wear flannel,” Jon said accusingly.

“That’s because your sister wanted me to wear this,” Damian said back. “Let’s focus on finding her. Father’s calling me now. We’ll change in a minute.”

“Hello, you’re on speaker phone,” Damian said.

“Her tracker is showing a warehouse owned by Luthor Corp in downtown Metropolis,” Bruce said. “Do you need help? I can see if Dick is nearby.”

“No thanks. Jon will help me. Thank you, father,” Damian said before hanging up.

“Luthor. I knew it,” Jon said with a frown. “Wait, you put a tracker on my sister? Does she know?”

“Now is not the time. Let’s get to Metropolis,” Damian said, changing the subject while both got dressed. Jon nodded and offered his arms. “I’m not being carried like that. I’ll hold on your back,” Damian said. Jon rolled his eyes and nodded again.

As they flew over corn fields and pastures, Jon began to question Damian. “So when did you put this tracker in? Does she even know? Where is it? Do I want to even know?”

“It’s sub-dermal in her forearm and I haven’t told her yet. And it’s irrelevant right now as it might save her life,” Damian said and Jon looked disgusted. “We need to focus on saving her and then you can be her angry brother.”

“Wow...”

————————————

You moved and the cuffs burned your skin. You gasped and screamed “Jon! Kon!” You called out to them hoping one of them would hear you.

“Dad!” you cried frantic. There was no way he would hear you. “Damian! Jonathan! Conner!”

You panted and your head pounded. You were so tired. You’d lose consciousness if no one saved you. Then who knows what they would do to you.

“Superman!” You screamed desperately before finally passing out.

——————————

“Did you hear that?” Jon said as they flew towards the Metropolis skyline.

“No all I hear is wind. What did you hear?” Damian said.

“Y/n. She’s calling for us,” Jon said speeding up.

“Is she okay?” Fear bled into Damian’s voice.

“I can’t tell. I’m trying to hurry,” Jon said flying quickly towards the industrial area of the city. He landed on the roof of a warehouse. Jon’s eyes glowed as he looked through the building.

“7 men. 4 posted outside the door to the room that’s she’s being held on the 2nd floor. Her heart rate is steady and she isn’t screaming any more. Almost sounds asleep,” Jon said after his analysis.

“Probably tranquilizer. Father’s data said this building is used for research purposes. Does that fit?” Damian asked.

“Uh more like research subject holding. Maybe a small lab on the first floor but other than cameras everywhere, there isn’t much science stuff that I can scan. But also the basement is sealed off,” Jon said.

“How?”

“Lead bound. You can check it out while I rescue her. 4 guys is nothing,” Jon said making a fist.

“Hold on. Luthor would probably have her surrounded by Kryptonite. Just in case one of you look for her. And that’s the last thing we need,” Damian said. “I’ll rescue her and you look for the basement. Knowing Luthor, it’s probably an entire facility of experiments below. He just hadn’t gotten her room ready yet.”

Jon looked frustrated. “Fine. You rescue her but be careful. She is the weakest of us. She’s not invulnerable to bullets or anything.”

“Most of the people I rescue aren’t either,” Damian reminded him. “And I’m certainly not taking a chance with my beloved.”

Jon looked over to respond but Damian was already gone. Just like the rest of the bats: silent goodbyes. Jon quietly moved down to the first floor. He was working but at the same time, his ear was trained on his sister’s heartbeat. Jon might be the younger sibling but she didn’t have powers and he felt so protective.

—————————————

Damian rolled his eyes at the 5 ways he could see that the security sucks in the 3 minutes he hung out the window before climbing in. Large rafters and guards who didn’t bother to look up. Not to mention the fact that they let there be a solid wall between the set of guards which meant that Damian was easily able to jump down to knock them out in pairs without the other set knowing. If the security was any worse they would leave the door unlocked.

The door wasn’t unlocked but it was a deadbolt that Damian easily disabled. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was on purpose. He gulped before opening the door. What if you were really hurt? Or dead? Ignore and get in there.

Damian opened the door and he felt white hot rage. You were tied to a bed and were unconscious. You were in a nice dressy shirt and sweatpants. They’d clearly taken you while you were getting dressed. Damian wanted to kill them. He had to take a breath to help you. Jon was taking them out and Damian was on rescue. He had to stay level headed.

Even the cuffs on your wrists were inadequate. If they had attempted to restrain Damian, he would have gotten out in 3 minutes. When he was 6 years old. The Kryptonite had left nasty red burns on your skin and he clenched his jaw at the sight. Jon better be punching extra hard.

Damian picked you up bridal style and you groaned a little before turning your head against his chest. The farther he got you from that fucking Kryotonite the better you were. He took you to the roof and you started waking up.

“Damian,” you said softly and a little confused.

“Hey you’re awake. How are you feeling?” He asked looking all over your face for injury.

“Kryptonite. I hate that stuff,” you said. Damian grabbed your hand and you hissed. He looked to see bright red knuckles. You’d clearly fought at some point. He certainly knew the signs of punching someone.

“You fought back?”

“Yeah and hitting someone in a helmet and body armor sucks. I got just a few in before they pulled out the damn rock. I throw up every damn time,” you said shaking your head.

Before Damian could comment on how brave and stupid it was to punch body armor, there was a huge crash down on the first floor as someone flew in the building through the window. You grabbed him tightly.

“What the hell is that?”

“Kon. Conner’s here. I’m up here,” you yelled.

Conner flew up to the roof. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Kidnapped. Damian and Jon saved me. He’s still down there actually. Can you check on him?” You said. Damian suddenly stood up.

“What if you were a distraction and the real problem is downstairs?” Damian suddenly said with clarity. The Kryptonite alone was enough to hold you down. The half ass security was to hold their attention when they rescued you. Jon was already flying back down before Damian could say more. Damian weighed his options: leave you alone, bring you with him, or stay out of it and while the last sounded nice, he’d have to go in case of more Kryptonite.

Before Damian could decide, Kon was back on the roof. “You’ve got to come see this.”

Downstairs was a lead lined basement. That alone had you nervous. Jon stood by the door. Little spattering of blood could be seen on his hands. He had a hard look.

“Warning: this is going to be messed up,” he said and you were even more worried. You walked in to see cages. Kids. Unconscious adults lay around in the hallway. “They were experimenting on them.”

You felt nauseous.

“My father is on the way. This is much bigger than I thought,” Damian said messing with his comms. His free hand was on your shoulder protectively.

There were 8 kids in cages. Bruce was running tests on their blood and investigating the area as you helped to get them out of the cages. What a terrible Valentine’s Day.

“Beloved, let’s get you home. We can stay at the farm tonight. You need sleep,” Damian said worried. You looked at him distracted.

“They’re just kids.”

“Come on. Let’s go. Kon is going to stay there too. Just for the night,” Damian said helping you up. Kon flew you both back to the farm.

“I’m going back to help. You okay, kid,” Kon asked as Damian inspected the house.

“I’ll be alright. Just help those kids,” you said.

“Yeah, of course,” he said ruffling your head. You rolled your eyes. “But seriously, the way you screamed I thought you were being murdered.”

You stiffened. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Kon knew when to quit. Something he had learned from Tim. He gave you a big hug and flew off towards Metropolis.

“Hey. I made your bed so you can sleep,” Damian said quietly. “And a change of clothes.”

You nodded and went upstairs. Damian helped pull off your shirt and put on a sweater. He looked at the marks around your wrist and red knuckles but didn’t note any more bruises or cuts. You pulled on sweatpants and climbed in small twin bed that Lois kept for guests. The pink and yellow flowery quilt felt warm and comforting on your skin. Damian lay beside you after changing and looked at you seriously.

“What is it,” you asked.

“I was so scared tonight. I have been doing this for years and I’ve never been so worried,” he said softly and you looked down and flushed. If you weren’t so freaking sensitive to Kryptonite this wouldn’t have happened. Damian gently lifted your chin and you looked at him.

“I was scared to lose you,” he said running his thumb across your cheek. “I’m going to drive you absolutely mad because I don’t want to take my eyes off of you.”

“Yeah?” You said with a little smile.

“Uh hm. But first sleep,” he said and your body certainly agreed. You curled into him and rest your head on his chest. His arms held you tightly before rubbing your back. You fell asleep to Damian staring at you. He stared at you all night, not even sleeping when Kon came in a few hours later.

———————————

“I have to know what all that was, Bruce,” you said at the Batcave the next day. “I was in there.”

He looked at you for a minute. “They were experimenting with meta DNA. All of those kids have gifts and they wanted to take you too. There were even plans to inject those kids with your blood to see if it would affect them.”

You shivered a little at the thought. Lex Luthor and his obsession with Kryptonian DNA.

“All the records were burned. Most of the warehouse too. Your brothers were.... thorough. And Clark will be home in a few days,” Bruce added.

“Really?”

“Yes. And he’s furious at Luthor. Probably will call soon. He wanted to let you sleep earlier. We’re just running programs here. Why don’t you and Damian go upstairs,” he suggested.

“Bruce Wayne,” came a stern voice behind you. You turned to see your mother, Lois Lane, looking like she was going to beat up Batman. “You put a tracker in my daughter without her permission?”

“You what?” You said.

“Actually that was Damian. Though I want to point out that it helped save her life,” Bruce added. Lois slapped him soundly across the cheek. Bruce just blinked and rubbed his cheek.

“Damian, you put a tracker in me?” You asked shocked. You’d assumed Jon had heard you or Damian’s detective work brought them to the warehouse. Not an invasive tracker in your body. “What the hell?”

“Well I can explain..”

#Damian Wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #robin x reader #Damian Wayne angst #valentine fic #batboy x reader #dc #fns

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noritoshiikamo · 4 years ago

Note

Headcanons for the cursed womb siblings when they ship you and choso please 🌝 but choso is like a “job first, love later” kind of guy. He is responsible👏 He wants to support his siblings first👏 But they want nothing more than for their brother to have a lover.

modern au! office worker choso x reader no warning, just fluff. death painting brothers are normal humans, choso is just oblivious, reader is in love anywaysssss okay, i know it said headcanon but i went overboard and i cant help it anymore, choso brainrot tagging: @booksweet , @fushigurocockslut, @lazy10ieiri, @sassyeahhhh, @cotton-curse, @thevoidwriting, @dukinaxael

- job first, love later

you were the first girl choso ever brought home.

except it was by accident. your car had broken down in front of the office and you being typically you, had no idea what had happened to your shit car. “stupid, stupid!” you cursed, opening the front of your car, watching as puff of smoke escaped. you panicked, you never had anyone told you what to do with your car and such.

you were the only child in your family, your mother passed away when you were just a child and your father disappeared. you were sent away to a distance relative, the gojo where you grew up with satoru and his adoptive brother, megumi. but they are useless as a lump of coal. “y/n, are you okay?” you whipped up your head, wiping the dripping sweat off your worried head as you were greeting by a familiar face.

“oh, choso, thank god, do you know anything about car? i cant figure out why wont it start,” you cried clutching on his white sleeve before shrieking. you watched at your fingers left black smudges on his shirt, panicked overwhelmed you as you realised you just ruined the chance for help by ruining your savior’s shirt. but choso only laughed, brushing your panicked look aside and handed you his briefcase. “how long has it been like this?” he asked as he rolled his sleeves, you shrugged. “10 minutes? i think.”

“do you have any cloth i can use to check the coolant?” he asked. you nodded and headed to back, throwing the briefcase in the backseat. coming back with an old rag, you were surprise when choso grabbed your wrists. your face warmed up as he twisted and turned your hand, “did the steam hit your hand?” he asked, glancing up to your face. you shook your head and handed him the cloth. you watched as he did his thing, in 5 minutes he had the engine running and the temperature meter down.

“please, cho, let me sent you home. as a thank you!”

he smiled, “you don’t have too, i can take the subway.”

“i insisted!” you exclaimed, “plus i have your briefcase! aha, you need it so if you want it you have to let me drive you home. please?” you insisted, throwing a puppy face as you clutched both hands to your chest. he exhale heavily, before holding out his hand. your brow shot up in confusion, you placed your hand on his larger palm. you looked up to the older man, a small smile on his face. he was holding his laugh. “your car keys, y/n. lemme me drive you home at least,” he clarified, causing you to mentally slap yourself. the keys exchanged hands and you get in the passenger’s seat. he's a careful driver, he used the blinker and didn’t speed, you felt instantly safe under his care.

“do you live alone, choso?” you asked your coworker. he shook his head, “i live with my younger brothers, eso and chizu. our parents died a long time ago.”

“oh, same. my parents died a long time ago. i’m their only child. my uncle took me in, he’s like a brother to me,” you explained, reminded of your childhood growing up with satoru. he might not be an ideal father figure but he loves you like his own sister. the car slowed down in front of block A of some apartment. “you live here?” you asked glancing around. his apartment is definitely on the lower class scale, the building looks like it could be hundred years old with the chipped paint.

“yeah, i’ve been raising my brothers alone. money’s a bit tight, they are still studying,” he explained grabbing his case from the back. “thank you for helping me with my car,” you stopped him, placing your hand on his, “please let me replace your shirt. just tell me the brand and i’ll buy a new one, i’m so sorry.”

choso offered her a smile, waving his hand dismissively. “it’s okay, i can get the grease off easily. i should thank you for the ride instead. i owe you for that.”

“in that case, can i see your home?”

choso looked at you in amusement, his hand reached forward to ruffled your head, “you’re weird, y/n. but okay. a cup of tea won’t hurt.” he was sure that none of his siblings are home, parked the car and let you trailed him as you both entered the lift up to the 5th floor. you didn’t seemed to be bothered by the surrounding, the stray cats and the random pile of garbage, eyes only trained on his back as you trailed him. his house were around the corner of the stairs, further from the elevator with number 532 on the blue door. he pulled out his keys but the door was already opened.

“chizu won’t throw out the trash,” a shirtless guy with a mohawk greeted them, he was instead more surprised to see you hiding behind the man, “oh, who is this?”

“my coworker. she drove me home, i offered her some tea. i thought you two aren't home, clearly i was mistaken,” he mumbled, annoyed that his brothers were actually home. he turned to you who was looking away, he could see speckle of warmth on your face. "y/n, this is eso. eso, go be a decent human being and put on some shirt," choso ushered the man away before calling you in. you could see panic in his face when eso instead announced that choso was bring his girlfriend home to the other brother.

you couldn't help but to laugh.

you stood in front of door 532 ringing the door bell.

you could hear some yelling. someone was telling to get the door, someone yelled that they were busy in the bathroom and someone was angry in the kitchen. you felt conscious, maybe this was a bad time. you placed the paper bag on the floor and prayed you can make it to the stair but door opened. a voice greeted you.

"y/n?"

your steps halted. you turned around, flustered that you got caught. choso stood by the door, apron covering half of his bare body with a spatula in the other. "uh hi, i was just here to drop you something," you pointed to the bag on the floor, absolutely refusing to look up, why is he being so attractive in that stupid apron for, you cussed, "i'm sorry for disturbing your sunday, i'll go."

"is that y/n?" a voice in the background called.

choso looked back and nodding, "yup, it is her." you could see the desperate look on his face before another head popped out from the door. it was his younger brother chizu. he took a bite of the pancake, a wide smile on his face, "what's up, big sis?" the boy with the blue hair greeted her. you shrugged, pointing to the bag that's now in choso's hand. "i was just dropping something, i don't want to disturb your sunday," you shook your head but chizu insisted that you stay for breakfast.

"come on big sis, choso rarely bring any girl over, it actually is exciting to finally talk to someone who isn't as annoying as eso," chizu laced his arm around yours and dragged you through the door. you look at choso for help, the man could only shoot you a sympathetic smile before shutting the door. he followed you, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen as he watched you sat by the table. eso started filling your plate with fresh batch of pancakes while chizu started talking about this band he started to listen. you listened to it attentively, thanking eso for the syrup before he took a seat beside you.

choso took a peak of the paper bag, a small smile on his face when he realised there's a brand-new shirt in it with a sticky note on top of it. i'm sorry, hope this one fits you- the note said. he looked up to back to the table, you started to look like you belong there. the house has always been empty, it was just him and his brothers. you're just like a bouquet of fresh flowers sitting in a vase in the middle of the table; breath of fresh air to the kusozu family.

"pancakes, choso?"

your voice disturbed his thoughts. "tchh, choso, why you're looking at y/n-chan like that?" eso threw a spoon playfully at the older sibling as he walked to the table, "say, y/n, choso didn't do anything sexual to you or anything right? as your brother i'm worried," your eyes widened as you choked on your drink. chaos ensued in the house as choso threatened to murder the middle child, chizu could only sit back and enjoyed as you tried to calm him down while eso's obnoxious laugh echoed the small apartment.

"you better apologize, you broomhead or i'll murder you!"

eso stuck out his tongue, dodging the flying cup, "never!"

"i got something for chizu. would you mind giving it to him?"

you peaked your head in his office, waving another paperbag in hand. choso took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, "you don't have to spoil my brothers, y/n. they are already a brat without you." you rolled your eyes and placed the bag on his pile of paperworks. "my younger brother, gumi- he knew the band's drummer, y'know the band he's been talking about and got a signed album for me. i'm not a fan so i figured chizu would've enjoyed it better than me." he peaked through the paper bag, a small smile on his face as he thanked you. you both sat in silence, you felt like you were disturbing the man so you excused yourself.

"y/n," your hand froze on the handle, "how can i pay up for everything nice you've done to us? i feel like it's unfair that you're doing all this nice things and i don't want to owe you anything." your turn and watched as the man walked close to you. choso looks handsome as usual, the blue tie matched his eyes while his slightly longer hair is slicked back. you recognized the shirt he's wearing, you bought it for him and it was nice of him to wear it to work.

"would like to go for a coffee with me?" you asked boldly.

"it's a date."

"it's not a date," choso sighed, combing his hair back.

"it is," eso crossed his arms on his chest, "she asked for a coffee and you said it's a date. bro, it is a date." the younger brother shook his head, motioned for him to part his hair. "slicked back make you look like you're going to office, yuck. if we wanna impressed big sis, you gotta look better than this."

"it's still not a date," choso protested, "it's just a coffee meet up."

the doorbell rang.

"yeah, it's not a date when you spend an hour worrying over your hair, cho," chizu ran to the front door, waiting at the door was you. you didn't have to go up and fetch him at the door, but you actually enjoyed meeting his brothers you didn't mind the hassle anymore. "damn, y/n, you dress better when you're not going to office," chizu complemented you. you could only shake your head, pocketing your hands in the plaid skirt that fell just at your knees, "i only dress up to important stuff, job sucks ass, i ain't spending my good outfits going to work," you kicked off your boots and walked in.

"you listen to that cho, at least she knew that this that is important!"

your eyes widened at his word and the younger brother dodged your fist easily. choso peaked through the door, a smile grew on his face when his eyes caught yours, "huh, i didn't realise we are going to colour coordinate," he said, stepping out. you realised that you both had accidentally matched each other's outfit, speckles of warmth spread all over your face when you noticed how it looks like. chizu, being the loose lip took the words right out of your head, "you both look like you're dating."

"we are not dating!" both of you exclaimed immediately only for eso and chizu to share a look.

"stop that," choso warned, disappearing into the kitchen, "tea, y/n?" you yelled a yes before following him. "don't mind them, they are being an idiot." you watched as he poured sugar in a cup with teabag, before putting the kettle on. "i don't mind," you shrugged it off, fidgeting nervously with the corner of your blouse. the comforting silence that engulfed both of you were short lived.

"oh, choso, i actually want to tell you that i like you!"

chizu's soft voice easily imitated your voice, something you took offended off. you turned around to see the two brothers perched on the kitchen hatch. "i do not sound like that!" you gasped. it was eso's turn, coming through with his rendition of choso.

"oh, y/n! i like you too, but i'm just dumbass and refuse to admit my feeling!"

"i will not hesitate to sent you back to mom and dad," choso warned.

"i also think that eso is way good looking that i am, but i'm scared that he will swoop you away from me," eso continued, at this point even you couldn't hold your laughter as you pressed your palm over your mouth. "what you laughing for, y/n?" choso's eyes narrowed as he glanced at you, huffing in annoyance. "hey! don't be mad at me for laughing, he did it well." you could see his own cheeks growing redder and redder with every mocking.

"go away, boys," you shushed them, walking to choso's side as he poured the hot water in the cup. resting against the counter, you thanked him when the cup exchanged hands, looking down on the swirling liquid that you didn't realise choso's fingers hooking under your chin, tilting your face up. all you realised was his soft lips against yours.

you are kissing your coworker in his kitchen.

"cho-" you whispered between the kiss but he hushed you, his hand now resting against your waist pulling your closer, deepening his kiss, "don't mind them." you tasted like your chapstick, his kiss was soft but it was enough to leave you breathless in his arms. you look in each other's eyes, a new realization to what had just happened had you both flustered.

"god, if our shit imitation would've finally made you both realise that you two dumbass like each other, we would've done this months ago," eso snickered. the two brothers had moved from the hatch to the table, heads resting on hands watching the new lovebird. "would you mind waiting for 5 minutes while i murder my brother? i promise it won't take long, then we'll continue with our date," choso asked quietly, brushing a stray hair off your cheek as you brought the mug to your lips, hiding the small smile behind the cup as you nodded. you watched amusingly, sipping on your tea as the two brothers ran around the small apartment, yelling profanities while chizu hugged you.

"welcome to the family, big sis."

you ruffled his blue hair, your cheeks hurt but you just couldn't stop smiling, "if it wasn't to you, i don't think i wouldn't even dare to speak my feelings. so, thank you. the voice acting was shit tho."

"you thank us, you hate us, geez, big sis, make up your mind," chizu teased you, winking as he brushed it off as a joke, "you help us a lot, i never seen choso so happy before. he worries a lot. about us, money. it was good sometimes to see him put himself first," chizu shrugged, cheek resting on your shoulder, "we survived before, we'll survive now. choso has nothing to worry about. you too, we are alright, okay?"

you nodded, resting your cheek on his head, heart overwhelmed with love for you newly found family, you felt belonged here.

#writing: request answered #writing: fics #choso #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso imagine

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

Note

cee cee i have an idea!!! what about Cool and Cultured bookshop owner! tae and dorky y/n walking past the store everyday and one day goes in and strikes a conversation about a fancy book like catcher in the rye and talks about the symbolism of rye in the book and tae's like :0 das wildly inaccurate but you're kinda cute so here's my number so we can talk more about rye and y/ns like :0

➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader

➺ genre; wowowow handsome & well-read bookkeeper!taehyung, fluff!!!! the kind of fluff that makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a warm blanket sipping on a mug of hot chocolate on a nice autumn’s day when the leaves are just starting to turn red and orange, y/n’s kind of a dummy but in a very loveable kind of way, featuring namjoon the (sort of) wingman

➺ wordcount; 6.2k

➺ summary; the catcher in the rye? oh, sure - of course you know that book! it’s about catching loaves of bread, right?

➺ what to expect; “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

➺ note; our (first??) drabble of the month as voted by you guys! i finished writing this the day after it was decided that bookkeeper!tae was the winner because that’s how excited i was about him >:-) enjoy!

»»————-　➴　————-««

“and… open your eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your arms up into the air excitedly as namjoon takes his hands away from his eyes

he blinks owlishly before looking up and-

“you brought me to a bookstore!” he gasps, a smile immediately spreading over his features as he claps his hands together, “oh, this is great! usually, you bring me to those awful rock-climbing places, or that horribly violent paintball gun place, and even when you brought me to the movie theatre the tickets were for that gory r-rated horror movie-”

“okay, let’s not get carried away-” you hold a finger out to shut namjoon up before he can list out moRe reasons as to why you seem more like you hate him instead of love him, “the point is: this time, i brought you to a bookstore!” you smile proudly before crossing your arms

not to toot your own horn or anything but you did a pretty good job with this surprise

you even did tons of research to find the best bookstores in the city!!

which was difficult because namjoon’s been to like.,,. EVERY bookstore in the city

but not this one!

to be fair, it was a long forty-five minute car ride to get here so you understand why he’s never come out here himself

“…this isn’t like… a weird bookstore or anything, right?” namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before taking a step back and looking up at the name of the store again

the secret garden

oh!!!!

like the book!!!!

how clever :D

“what do you mean?” you frown, placing your hands on your hips before glancing back up at the name as well

the secret garden

kind of a lame name for a bookstore

“like a…” namjoon trails off before clearing his throat, “you know, like a bookstore that’s actually a sex dungeon or something like that-”

“ew!” you immediately make a face before shaking your head quickly, “wha- why would you even say that?!”

“well, i don’t know!” namjoon holds his hands up in defence, “i’ve never been to this bookstore before-!”

“this is a regular ol’ bookstore, joon. i promise!” you clap your hands on his shoulders before giving him a squeeze, “just the way you like it! old, dusty, and full of nothing but boring books.”

namjoon beams

that’s exactly what he likes to hear

see, today is your seven year friendaversary with namjoon

you guys have known each other since middle school and noW the two of you are in your final year of university which is crazy

and so, for the past seven years, you’ve gone out on this day to celebrate your beautiful friendship because honestly you’ll take whatever excuse to go to a restaurant to try to get free dessert (“yeah, we’re celebrating our anniversary! so, i’ll take three orders of your chocolate lava cake-”)

you guys usually take turns where one year one of you will plan an entire day of fun activities for the other, and then the next year, the other person will do it because that seems like a relatively fair system

last year, namjoon took you to this cute pottery place and you ended up making these adorable matching friendship mugs

they’re both a little lopsided but that’s just part of their charm!!

namjoon painted his a beige-brown and you painted yours a BRIGHT purple and then you traded mugs (so that when he comes over to your apartment, he has his mug, and when you go over to his apartment, you have your mug!)

he also insisted that you guys carve your guys’ initials on the bottom of yours and draw a heart around it which you thought was a little much but you are… very fond of namjoon so you’d jump off a cliff if he asked you to

admittedly, most of the things that you’ve planned during your years have been catered to your own personal desires so you’ve been a little unfair but namjoon’s always been too much of a sweetheart to say anything about it

and for the most part, he’s a pretty good sport even though it’s blatantly obvious that he’d rather chop a toe off than spend the afternoon doing your chosen activity

the last time it was your turn two years ago, you took him to a go-cart track and spent the entire two hours practically driving circles around him because he was driving like ten kilometres an hour

the only reason why he wasn’t driving like one is supposed to drive on a go-cart track (i.e. like a maniac) is because he was worried that if he went too fast he’d get a ticket or something

and kim namjoon does not get speeding tickets

not on the real road and most certainly not on a man-made road either!

for the record, he definitely didn’t appreciate you calling him a slowpoke and telling him to eat my dust, bitch! and he still brings it up from time to time whenever he wants to guilt you into doing something with him (“i’m not switching muffins with you. it’s not my fault you don’t like yours!” “…hey, remember that time you called me a slowpoke and told me to-” “take the muffin.”)

anyways

he’s glad that this is just a normal bookstore and that he doesn’t have to worry about whether or not one of your activities is going to end in him losing a limb for the first time

what a wonderful way to end the day!!

actually, you guys still have to grab dinner after this where you’ll try to squeeze as many free desserts out of the restaurant as possible as per usual so this is a wonderful way to almost end the day

the little bell hanging above the door chimes as the two of you step in and almost immediately you’re greeted with the warm smell of what you’re pretty sure is hot chocolate??

“i love this place already.” namjoon breathes out, his jaw dropping in awe, “i wanna live here!”

“okay, keep it in your pants-” the door starts to shut and you nudge namjoon forward to keep from getting your butt nipped by the door

you don’t even get a chance to say anything else before namjoon suddenly darts off

so much for keeping it in his pants

you pause when you get a good look at the place

huh

for some reason you feel like a lot of instagram pictures have been taken here

it’s obviously an antique place but it’s like one of those trendy antique places

a brass chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the (fake) candles casting a golden glow over the entire store

there’s a spiral staircase that curls up to the second floor

the walls are covered with floor to ceiling shelves stacked with, duh, books, but even for what you thought would just be a dusty old bookstore… it’s pretty nice in here!

there’s even an archway in the centre of the place that leads to what looks like a pretty cozy reading space for customers which is a nice touch

and there are people sipping on mugs of hot chocolate too!!!

you can’t help but wonder if you need to be reading a book in order to get a mug of cocoa

you like the hot chocolate part but you’re not as excited about the reading part

“y/n, come on!” you look over to see namjoon - who already has three books cradled in his arms - waving you over enthusiastically, “check it out! it’s a vintage boxed set of the chronicle of narnia series! and they’re leatherbound-“ he practically moans before nudging you towards it, “help me take it out?”

“narnia?” you snort, tilting your head so you can look at the titles pressed into the spine of the book, “isn’t narnia, like… for kids?”

the last time you read the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe was when you had to read it for a book report in like the fourth grade

you glance over your shoulder to look at namjoon who now has an unimpressed frown on his face

“what??”

“…you insult me.” he sniffles, “just help!”

you roll your eyes playfully before turning back to pull the thick set out of the shelf and-

“hello!”

“-!”

the sudden sound of a stranger’s voice nearly makes you drop the set but you manage to prop the edge of the box back up onto the shelf before it falls and breaks all the bones in your foot

you turn to look at whoever-

oh my

hello indeed

“welcome to the secret garden.” he smiles kindly, tilting his head at you, “did you need any help with that, miss?”

oh good god

his voice makes you feel like you’re wading through a river of warm caramel

and you’d happily let yourself drown in that river

two seconds go by where you don’t respond at all and instead you continue staring at mr. caramel with very obvious hubba-hubba eyes

“i think we’re good, thank you!” namjoon clears his throat, elbowing your back gently before offering a smile of his own

“oh, alright! well, my name’s taehyung,” taehyung reaches up to adjust his glasses, “please let me know if you need assistance of any kind - i’ll just be up at the front. if you’re just here to relax and read, i’d be happy to whip up two mugs of hot chocolate for the two of you!”

“awesome! thank you.” namjoon nods all while you continue smiling at taehyung dazedly

he waits until taehyung disappears before turning back and looking at you

“…what’s wrong with you?”

“i’m good, thank you…” you whisper your very delayed response and namjoon moves his head so that he’s blocking your view when you lean back a little to try to look at taehyung sitting behind the front counter, “holy moly. i’d let him explore my secret garden-”

“oh, now look who can’t keep it in their pants-“

“hey, you should look at this as a good thing!” you grunt as you adjust the hefty box in your arms, “now i’ll willingly drive you back here… whenever you want.”

namjoon’s eyes immediately light up

»»————-　➴　————-««

you and namjoon end up returning to the bookstore about two weeks later

last time, namjoon wanted to stay longer (and so did you, honestly) buT you were pretty close to losing your dinner reservations and you weren’t about to give up your free chocolate lava cake just to stare at the cute bookkeeper from afar like a creep

so you had to leave!

namjoon ended up leaving with the boxed set and a couple other books so suffice to say, he was pretty happy

and when you suggested visiting the bookstore again this week… well, namjoon had to jump on that opportunity, didn’t he??

you?? offering to take him to a bookstore?? again??

you’re obviously only using him as an excuse to go into the bookstore so you can spend hours watching taehyung like a weirdo but he’ll take it

namjoon hums happily as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate before licking a little bit of whipped cream off his top lip

he wonders if taehyung would be willing to share the recipe to it because this is honestly the best hot chocolate he’s ever had

namjoon looks up from his book when he hears you let out a sigh for the tenth time in the last two minutes

oh god

look at you!

“oh… and he’s good with kids, too?” you sigh blissfully as you prop your elbow up on the arm of the sofa chair before leaning your cheek against your fist

you watch fondly as taehyung gets down on one knee, holding two fists out for a little girl

she taps his right hand shyly before quickly wrapping her arms back around her mom’s leg, peeking at him from behind it shyly

taehyung flips his wrist around and uncurls his fingers to reveal a single caramel, his face lighting up briefly as she takes it from his open palm into her little hand

“i don’t know why you can’t just go up and talk to him-” namjoon snorts at how lovestruck you look before peering around the corner of the archway to look at taehyung too, “it’s not a big deal. he’s really nice!”

“i can’t just go up and talk to him. are you kidding me?” you frown, shaking your head, “what am i supposed to say??”

“tell him you need help finding a book!” namjoon states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world (because it is) before slapping the book on his lap shut, “just out of curiosity - what book would you ask him to help you find?”

you lean back against the sofa chair before twisting your lips in thought

book?

what book…

what was the last book you read…?

ooh!

“esio trot!” you perk up, namjoon’s eyebrows knitting together in confusion because he has no idea what just came out of your mouth-

“esio- oh my god, esio trot as in the roald dahl children’s novel??” namjoon frowns, “no! you can’t go up to taehyung and ask him to help you find esio friggin’ trot-”

“okay, you don’t see me making fun of you for buying what you bought last week, mr. chronicles of narnia-”

“you did make fun of me!” namjoon gawks, “in fact, you’re still making fun of me for it-” he waves his hand to cease the conversation, “listen to me. from the very few times that i’ve spoken to taehyung, it’s clear that he’s… cultured, you know?”

“cultured… like yogurt.” you joke, slapping your own knee gently, “get it?? because yogurt is cultured? cultured yogurt??”

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes

see?

this is exactly what he’s talking about

“…yes, y/n. i get it. anyways, as i was saying- taehyung is just very…” namjoon kisses his teeth as he tries to think of how to phrase his words, “…well-read… intelligent… scholarly… refined…”

you tilt your head in curiosity as namjoon continues listing out a bunch of snooty sounding adjectives

wait a minute

“are you-” you scoff, straightening up in your seat, “are you calling me dumb??”

hey!!

you’re not dumb!!!

it’s not like books are super complicated to figure out or anything

all you have to do is read what’s inside of it and you certainly know how to read!!!

and sure, sometimes you still don’t know if receive is spelt receive or recieve or if business is spelt buisness or biusness, but that doesn’t mean that you’re dumb!!

“no, no, i’m not calling you dumb!” namjoon shakes his head quickly, “i’m just saying that if you had a choice, you would choose a movie over a book-”

“well, yeah - obviously i would choose a movie over a book.” you snort, “why would i waste eight hours reading tiny little words on stiff white pages when i could be watching a movie that compresses the entire story in a convenient one hour and a half??”

“i’m your friend, and i don’t want to watch you make a fool of yourself!” namjoon argues, “because if you do, then you’ll be too embarrassed to ever come back here again, which means that i’ll never be able to come back here again-”

“what’s stopping you from coming here by yourself?”

“because every time i tell you that i’m going to the bookstore, you’re going to ask me a bunch of taehyung related questions when i get back-”

okay

that’s a fair point

that sounds like something you would do for sure

“alright, fine!” you huff before crossing your arms, “what book do you suggest i go up there and ask him to help me find?”

namjoon twists his lips in thought

hm…

“catch her in the eye!” you chirp, folding your hands behind you book as you smile brightly at taehyung

namjoon feels his own face flush at how confidently you just said that and he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaMING

he told you to ask taehyung to help you find the catcher in the rye

NOT CATCH HER IN THE EYE

“the catcher in the rye?” taehyung nods, “sure! of course i can help you find the catcher in the rye.” he returns a smile as he steps out from behind the counter, “follow me, please!”

you shoot namjoon a big thumbs up and a faT grin as you pass by the entrance of the archway and he gives you a weak one in return before turning back and slumping against the couch

oh boy

…he’s never going to come back to this beautiful bookstore, is he?

“you were here about two weeks ago, weren’t you?” taehyung asks as he looks over his shoulder, the two of you trotting up the spiral staircase, “with your… boyfriend, right? you guys bought the boxed narnia set.”

“hm? oh!” you let out a little laugh, “yes, that was us, but joon- namjoon’s just my friend. um, that day was actually our seven-year friendaversary and he’s a real dork for books so i thought it’d be nice to bring him here-”

it’s in that moment that you suddenly hear namjoon’s voice in your head reminding you that you’re supposed to act like yoU like reading too

“i mean-” you clear your throat, “i, too, really like books, so i- you know, it was a mutually pleasant experience for the both of us t-to be here-” you chuckle nervously

hopefully you were able to save your own ass there

that was a close call!!

you trail behind taehyung as the two of you weave in and out of the bookshelves

you didn’t get a chance to come up to the second floor last week

but it’s surprisingly nice up here!!

there’s a lone sofa chair in the corner with a little coffee table sitting next to it

very nice for customers who prefer to read alone

“ah, well, that’s very thoughtful of you!” taehyung nods before suddenly pausing, “i’m so sorry-” he spins around and you nearly bump into his chest but you manage to stop yourself just in time, “i just realised i never got your name.”

“y/n. i’m- i’m y/n.” you stick your hand out quickly for him to shake

you feel a little zap! travel from your fingertips to the rest of your body as soon as taehyung takes your hand in his

he gives you a gentle shake before squeezing your hand lightly and then letting go, “well, it’s very nice to meet you, y/n. now, give me a second to find the catcher in the rye for you…”

taehyung turns to thumb through the books on the shelf and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as how pretty he looks from the side

wowie

you can’t help but take your bottom lip in between your teeth as you continue to admire taehyung’s features from the soft swoosh of his hair to the rosy pink of his lips

how can one man be so pretty?

“ah- here we are!” taehyung pulls a book out of the shelf and you quickly snap yourself out of your daze, “the catcher in the rye… a novel by j.d. salinger.” he hands it to you and you take it before blinking down at the cover

…the catcher in the rye?

what happened to catch her in the eye???

“it’s a great book.” taehyung hums, “have you read it before?”

“oh, i… i have!” you scoff, making a face, “duh, of course i have. i mean, it’s… you know, it’s such a… um, a powerful novel…” you clear your throat before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “i mean, the last time i read it was actually in… high school… so… you know, i’ve forgotten most of the details but i figured it’d be nice to get a refresher, you know?”

(you never read this in high school.)

((you just made namjoon summarise the entire book to you in the form of a poorly drawn stickman comic and even then you still didn’t fully understand the story.))

“absolutely! there’s nothing wrong with revisiting old friend from the past,” taehyung chuckles lightly, “in fact, i was reading animal farm the other day- what kind of literature do you typically read?”

you press your lips together tightly

oh god

namjoon didn’t prepare you for additional questions

literature??

quick!

what kind of literature do you typically read??

…

tell him you read all kinds of literature!

that sounds like a legitimate answer, right?

“i... read… all-”

you’re cut off by the sound of a bell chiming from below and you let out a breath of relief when taehyung scurries past you to peer over the balcony

“i’ll be right there!” he holds a finger up at the customer waiting by the front counter before spinning around to face you again, “was there anything else you needed, y/n?”

“wha- i-” you stammer, unable to come up with a non-creepy reason to keep him up here with you, “no! no, this was-” you give the front cover a hearty slap, “this was all i needed-”

“perfect!” taehyung claps his hands together, “well, let me know. you know where i am!”

he disappears down the staircase before you even get a chance to thank him

the smell of his cologne lingers in the air as you make your way down the staircase and you can’t help but beat yourself up over how your interaction with taehyung went

it wasn’t a bad interaction or anything

in fact, you think you did a pretty good job at acting like a bookworm!!

it’s just that…

you don’t think it was a particularly memorable interaction for taehyung

that was just a typical customer interaction for him

you were supposed to charm him!!!

impress him!!

sweep him off his feet!!!

tickle his brain!!

“hey, buddy…” namjoon coos as you plop back down on the sofa chair, “how… did it go?”

he’s afraid to hear your answer because it certainly looks like it didn’t go super well

damnit

he knows this moment is about you but now he’s thinking about how he’ll probably never be able to taste this delicious hot chocolate ever again

“got the book.” you grumble, tossing it onto the coffee table before shaking your head, “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

“yeah, i… uh, i heard you.” namjoon nods understandingly, crossing one leg over the other before leaning back against the couch, “i don’t think he heard you say that, though! i mean, he knew what you were looking for right away.”

namjoon knows you well enough to see that you’re currently spiralling down a self-pity hole right now

oh boy

“hey, you know what’ll make you feel better?” he leans forward to give your knee a comforting squeeze

“what?”

“how about i buy this for you so you can read it and fully impress taehyung next time with your newfound knowledge-“ namjoon points to the book you’ve abandoned on the table, “and then we can go for chocolate lava cake!”

your eyes widen slightly

“free chocolate lava cake?”

“no, not free-“ namjoon snorts, getting up from the couch before reaching back to pick up his bag, “i mean, i’ll pay for it. my treat! so, yeah. i guess it’s kinda free for you.”

“that sounds nice!” your frown is almost instantaneously replaced by a grin, “if i get more free things from you just for being sad, i’m going to be sad more often-”

“what?? no! do not pretend to be sad just to get me to pay for things-”

taehyung glances over from the front counter when he hears a twinkly laugh and he can’t help but smile lightly at the sight of you giggling away in the sofa chair

your nose scrunches slightly as you let out a little snort and he presses his lips together to keep himself from beaming too wide

y/n, huh? cute.

»»————-　➴　————-««

(taehyung can’t stop thinking about you and your absurdly cute face.)

»»————-　➴　————-««

it’s another two weeks later that you come back to the secret garden - but this time, you come alone.

and to be honest, you… don’t know if this was a good idea or not

because joon was with you for the last two times and you were definitely using him as a security blanket so now you feel like you’re about to dive into the deep end of the pool without any floaties

you were going to ask if he wanted to come with you but you felt like this was something that you had to do alone

you swallow thickly as you tuck your car keys into your pocket

namjoon can’t be your bookworm wingman forever, right?

the store is almost suspiciously quiet as you step in, the little bell ringing above your head as per usual

your classes ended a little later today which is why you weren’t able to come in the afternoon

pluS you had to find a way to get namjoon to go home without you without raising any eyebrows so that sucked up a little more of your time

you were going to tell him that you were going to stay on campus to study at the library but even you couldn’t believe that

so you told him that you had a group project to work on which was why you couldn’t have dinner with him tonight!

you jump in surprise when the door suddenly slams shut behind you from the breeze

it’s a little chillier now that it’s november but it’s nice that you get to wear cozy cardigans and snuggly sweaters now

“i’ll be right there!”

you hear taehyung’s voice ring out from the second floor and you swallow your nerves as you stand up a little straighter

fake it till you make it, right?

i love books

i love books so much

i love books so much that i would fuck a book if i could!

...okay, maybe not that one.

you glance around the store - there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here

which makes sense because the sign says that the store closes at 7pm on weekdays and it’s…

6:50

wow

so you’RE the asshole who comes into the place ten minutes before closing time

good one!

“so sorry for the wait, i was just-” taehyung pauses on the steps, his face immediately lighting up when he sees you, “oh, y/n!”

“hi!” you chirp before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “sorry i came ten minutes before you’re supposed to close… i wanted to come earlier, but i had a thing…”

“oh, don’t even worry about it!” taehyung snorts, tossing the dirty rag over his shoulder, “i was just doing some dusting…”

you feel your mouth go drY as soon as you notice what he’s wearing

he’s wearing a henley tee (except all the buttons are undone and aLso he has his sleeves pushed up to his elbows), dark wash jeans, and a pair of tattered black converse sneakers

it’s just the casualness of it all that makes it so sexy

“so, what can i help you with tonight?” taehyung tosses the rag onto the counter before pushing his glasses back down from the top of his head

he adjusts them slightly before blinking at you and you find it awfully cute that his doe eyes now look a little bigger through the thick lenses

what can he help you with tonight?

…yeah, what can he help you with tonight?

the downside of not telling namjoon about your solo mission is the fact that namjoon’s usually the one who plans every little detail out for you

and you just came here on a whim

you don’t have a plan

you don’t have a plan at all!

your plan was to just come to the bookstore to see taehyung because you wanted to see taehyung

“i…”

“oh, by the way-” taehyung perks up suddenly, “how was your little trip down memory lane with the catcher in the rye?”

the catcher in the rye?

the catcher in the rye!!!

ah! yes!!

that’s definitely something to talk about!

…wait a second

you-

you didn’t read the book

oh god

you had two weeks to read the book and you didn’t read the book

almost immediately you feel your anxiety sPike back up and you can’t help but scold yourself for not bringing namjoon along with you

if namjoon was here, you’d just get him to say all the main points and you’d stand right next to him throwing in the occasional ‘yes, very good point!’ and ‘of course, i completely agree’ every now and then!

“the catcher in the rye!” you blurt out, suddenly aware that you haven’t spoken in like ten seconds, “i- yes! the book was- it was great. i thoroughly enjoyed it. i would definitely read it again!”

“hey, that’s great!” taehyung laughs lightly, “you know- i mean, i have to ask because i always ask this question to people who’ve read it- what do you think the main theme of it is?” taehyung hums, “because i’ve always thought it focused a lot on alienation, you know? i mean, a loss of innocence is obviously another theme, what, with holden wanting to be sheltered from the harshness of adult life- i really think it can actually be seen as some kind of social commentary… like a critique of the superficiality in society-”

“of course, i completely agree!” you nod furiously, “those are very good points-”

“i’m sorry, i’m probably sucking up all the oxygen in the room-” taehyung smiles sheepishly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “so what do you think?”

if there was ever a moment for a black hole to appear in the floor and swallow you whole… you’d want for it to happen right now.

actually, you’d want it for it to happen whilst you were driving to the bookstore so that you wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to say hi to taehyung

“i think… well, i… first of all, i agree completely with everything that you just said about aliens and… you know, a loss of innocence and how hard adult life is…” you stumble over your words, your face beginning to flush from how idiotic you probably sound, “i just… i have to talk about my favourite part in the book! you know, the part where holden- holden, that’s the name that you just mentioned- he… he does such a great job at catching those loaves of bread. i thought that part was hilarious.”

you clear your throat at the end of your mini-review

taehyung’s eyes flicker slightly and for a second you think you’re in danger of being called out for obviously noT having read the book but…

he nods slowly and brings his hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully, “i mean… yeah. i completely agree! that part always gets me! why don’t you go on? i’m interested in hearing more of your thoughts.”

oh!

hey, would you look at that??

phEW

maybe you’re better at improvising than you thought you were

now knowing that you’re on the right track gives you a booST of confidence and you give yourself a mental pat on the back

you can’t wait to tell namjoon about this

he’s going to be so proud of you!!

you grin before nodding enthusiastically, “of course! i have a lot of thoughts to share on the book. i mean, i personally think it was an interesting choice on the author’s part to choose rye as the main ingredient, because he had… so many other options that he could’ve gone with! and also - did he go with light rye or dark rye?? because throughout the entire novel, he never actually specifies what kind of rye bread he’s referring to-”

taehyung leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, smiling politely as he continues to listen to your rye bread rant

it’s obvious that you definitely didn’t read the book but he was genuinely curious as to what you would be able to pull out of your ass which was why he asked you to go on

he doesn’t think anyone’s ever gone into a full-blown ramble about how the catcher in the rye is actually a narrative on the benefits on rye bread for lil ol’ him before

but, for the record…

it’s really cute how much effort you’re putting into your analysis to try to impress him

“i’m sorry, i need to- i need to interrupt you-” taehyung giggles, cutting you off right as you’re about to dive into a discussion about the number of loaves holden caught in the novel, “as much as i would love to hear more… everything that’s coming out of your mouth is wildly inaccurate, y/n.”

what

...

oh my god.

“wh-” your throat goes dry and you choke a little, “what?”

“be honest- did you read the book?” taehyung asks flat-out and you feel your cheeks burning up again

uh-oh

“i…”

okay

forget it

you can’t do this anymore!

it’s too stressful!!!!

“…no.” you press your lips together before shooting taehyung a sheepish grin, “there’s no catching loaves of bread in the novel, is there?”

“not even one loaf.”

“oh, god-” you groan quietly, reaching up to cover your hot face with your hands at the realisation that you just very confidently ranted about the importance of rye bread in this novel for the past five minutes, “not even one?!”

mortifying!

absolutely mortifying!!!!

well

it’s time to tell namjoon to find a new favourite bookstore because you are nevER bringing him back here agai-

“hey, it’s totally fine!” taehyung laughs lightly, stepping closer to you so that he can pry your hands away from your flushed face, “i actually think it’s really impressive how long you can go talking about bread-”

“you let me- you knew that i hadn’t read the book yet you let me continue talking about bread-?!” you gawk, taehyung now bursting into a full-blown chortle as he throws his head back, “how could you??”

“i couldn’t help it!!” taehyung wheezes, reaching up to flick a stray tear away, “i’m sorry! i’m sorry, really, i am-”

even when he’s laughing at you, your stomach can’t help but feel fluttery

“you’re lucky you’re pretty-” you snort, shaking your head gently, “otherwise i would be way more mad at you…”

taehyung’s laughs dwindle down into light chuckles and you swallow thickly when he takes a small step closer

“you’re lucky you’re pretty.” he retorts playfully, reaching over to move a strand of hair away from your eyes with his pinky finger, “otherwise i wouldn’t have let you talk my ear off about bread for five whole minutes…”

...he thinks you’re pretty?

“oh yeah?” you challenge, reaching over to jab your finger into his chest

taehyung reaches up to wrap his fingers around your wrist before offering you a particularly boyish smirk, “mm, yeah.”

you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second and you know it’s way too soon but you really want him to just lean down and kiss you…

“hey, do you like dessert?” taehyung pulls away suddenly before turning to make his way behind the counter

“de- dessert?” you ask dumbly, still a little dazed from... that

what was that?!

“mhm!” tae leans down slightly and flips a couple of switches underneath the counter, the chandelier light shutting off first before the other little lights begin to switch off as well, “there’s a little diner about a block away that makes really good strawberry cheesecakes.”

“i love dessert!” you nod, “and strawberry cheesecake sounds really yummy.”

“good! in that case, would you be interested in sharing a slice of cheesecake with me and perhaps delving deeper into your rye-based analysis?” taehyung teases as he grabs his coat off the back of his chair, his keys jingling in his hands

you snort lightly

“i would love to share a slice of cheesecake with you but i refuse to embarrass myself further, so we’re going to have to find something else to talk about-”

taehyung holds the door open for you and you immediately shiver as you step out, the chilly air a stark contrast from the warmth of tae’s cozy store

you jolt in surprise when taehyung reaches down and slips his fingers in between yours (which he later explains he only did because his hand was cold and definitely noT because he just really really wanted to hold your hand) before beginning to tug you along next to him

“well, we can talk about the fact that you thought the name of the book was catch her in the eye-”

“i knew you heard me! i knew it!!”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

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mc-lukanette · 4 years ago

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Luka was taking his usual route home, his coffee in hand and marked with his name, as it always was. All employees got one for free at the end of the day, and while it felt a little too generous for him to accept at first, he got used to the insistence, just glad to have a boss who wanted their workers to be happy.

That said, he hadn't opened it yet, planning on doing so when he got home in order to be perked up and ready to work on his music. The coffee he made without following a menu had a certain bite to it that somehow made the wake-up call even stronger, earning him the nickname "Viperion" from all the people he worked with. He didn't complain, obviously; it sounded cool.

As he walked down the wide sidewalk, he glanced up and noticed something that made him pause: a woman, slumped over a table and looking ready to either sleep or pass into the afterlife. He couldn't get a good look at her face, since she was face-down on the table and her black hair was making any of her features unseeable, but he saw the professional outfit she wore and the sketchbook resting under her hand, implying that she was overworked.

Luka realized belatedly that she didn't have a writing utensil in hand, his eyes drifting down to scan the circular table she was laying on. Indeed, there it was, on the opposite side of the table and continuing to roll along due to the occasional gust of wind. He rushed forward as it neared the edge, saving it from a sad fate on the sidewalk. He couldn't tell how fragile it was, but it seemed expensive, so he was glad to have come by when he did.

Slipping the pen between the open pages in the book, Luka's next priority was to duck down and check under the table for the woman's belongings. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that her purse was safely between her legs, unstolen and with the strap hanging around her shoulder. From the looks of how she was hunched over it with her legs pressed into the sides, he imagined that she might stir awake if someone attempted to take it or steal what was inside, but he wasn't going to take that chance.

He stood, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a gentle shake, even though he felt bad for doing so. The woman made an assortment of whines and groans at the motion, shifting away from him and curling in on herself. She even pulled her sketchbook in with her as if it were a pillow, clearly not willing to depart from whatever half-asleep state she was in. He couldn't help feeling bad for her; she was so obviously exhausted and he got the impression that this was a recurring thing.

While debating on what to do, he remembered the coffee in his hand, still hot and definitely a burst of caffeine for anyone who drank it. There was no question as to whether or not he should offer it to her, he just did, holding the cup out and gingerly pressing the bottom of it against the back of her hand while ensuring that the name side was facing away from her. She shifted again, but had a better reaction to the heat, maybe recognizing what it meant. She turned her head up, her hair parting just enough for him to see one of her eyes as it took in the cup in his hand.

His heart skipped a beat, having not expected to see such a bright blue color, but he remained still and waited for her reaction.

Eventually, the hand not touched by the cup came up to grab it, the other soon moving out from under the cup to do the same. She tilted her head back down at the table, then gave him a muffled, "thanks," probably thinking that he was someone serving her a drink she ordered.

He smiled, her voice reminding him of the pleasant chime of a bell. He was content to accept whoever she thought he was so long as she accepted the drink, releasing it so he could walk away from her. Once he was a fair distance away, he looked back to see that she was slowly pushing herself up so she could drink the coffee he'd given her. Satisfied and feeling that it was safe to go, he rounded the next corner to continue his way home.

—————

The next day at work was particularly slow, with Luka having difficulty keeping himself occupied. He'd already wiped down everything in the shop that he could think of without the customers starting to suspect that he had a cleaning obsession, so he gave into his personal wants and pulled out a notepad he kept on him. It wasn't much, but he used it to jot down little melodies that came into his head, figuring that he might be able to turn them into something special with a little bit of time and effort.

He'd only been able to sketch some quick staff lines when the front door opened, rapid footsteps following as someone apparently barreled through. He glanced up at him, only needing to look for a moment before he recognized them as the woman he'd helped yesterday, though she was sporting casual wear instead of her business attire. A few of the customers at the tables turned to eye her, their faces a mixture of curious and confused, but she didn't seem to care.

"Is—" The woman panted, waiting to catch her breath before she stood straight, raising her right hand to reveal the coffee cup she'd been given yesterday. "Is there a Luka here?"

Luka gaped, then raised the notepad to his mouth to hide the fact that he was chuckling. He'd honestly thought that something terrible had happened to her with the panic she was in, but this?

The woman looked around frantically, clearly hoping to get a positive response. The customers who'd focused on her earlier had glanced in Luka's direction at the mention of his name, causing her to follow their gaze to him. Luka himself lowered his notepad enough to offer her a smile, his free hand going up to greet her. She ran up to him, taking note of the signature on his name tag and then comparing it to the one on the cup.

"Oh—thank goodness," she sighed. "I found you." Setting the cup down, she threw herself face-down onto the counter. Luka felt glad that he'd just cleaned there.

Curious, he asked, "Why were you looking for me?"

"I am so sorry," she whined in response. Raising her head just enough to look up at him, she continued, "I was so tired and I wasn't even thinking, and then I drank all of your coffee!"

He blinked, half-wondering if maybe she'd been so tired then that she thought that she'd stolen it. Offering her a smile, he placed his hands on the counter and lowered himself until he was level with her, assuring, "I gave it to you, it's okay. We get them for free. Besides, you looked exhausted and you definitely needed it more than I did."

"Still!" she argued, pushing herself back up with a pout.

The speed of her response told him that she actually knew already that she didn't steal it, yet was still that distraught over the matter of drinking his coffee anyway. He thought it was cute.

She threw her arms out. "And I'd never been to this place before and had to find directions on my phone and I was so worried that I might've picked the wrong one and I wouldn't know since I figured you were just a customer so my chances of finding you again were already bad and even if you were a regular I wouldn't even know what you looked like—" She stopped herself, letting out a sigh as she seemed to realize that she was getting side-tracked.

Luka watched, a mixture between amused and maybe a little charmed as the woman pulled out her purse and began to dig through it. Though he couldn't make out much, he could tell that it was organized, leading to her pulling out what she'd been looked for relatively quickly.

With a sudden serious look on her face, she firmly placed the money she'd grabbed down on the counter. "Anyway, at least let me pay you back! I don’t care if you got it for free or not!"

Luka looked at her, then the money, then back at her, reminding himself that she really went through so much trouble over a cup of coffee and it was absolutely adorable. He wasn't sure what his face looked like, but he knew it wasn't his normal "customer smile."

"What's your name?" he finally asked, once he'd put his thoughts together.

"W-what?" The serious expression vanished, replaced by surprise. "Um—" She tilted her head, but answered him anyway despite not knowing why he was asking. "Marinette."

Marinette.

Grinning at the melody taking place in his head, he turned away from her, abandoning the money she'd set down and picking up a cup to start writing on. "So, what kind of coffee do you want for that money?"

"H-hey!"

#lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #((Lineith: Coffee Shop AU))#((me: I mean I've done everything else already so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯))#Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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selfwriting-sugarquills · 4 years ago

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Say yes. (George Weasley x reader)

Description: George Weasley had asked you to marry him exactly 465 times since he and you started dating in your fifth year. He’d said it half-jokingly at first, then because you kept turning him down with a smirk as you insisted “someday, but not yet.” and then it had evolved to be a way of saying “I love you” and you’d established that it wasn’t the real one yet as long as you were in school, and that when he finally decided to ask you for real, you’d know: Champagne, fireworks and other romantic gestures were promised but when George loses his ear he decides to spend that final proposal a little differently than initially planned.

requested: nope

warnings: descriptions of blood, injuries, a little angst but mostly fluff.

word count: 3.7K

taglist: @schlongbottom @cardboardbenmazzello @unseensilver @mochamiilk

(gif isn’t mine)

“Marry me?”

“Oh, Merlin,” you facepalm, “It’s too early for this, George,”

“Come on!” he persists,

“You always ask me and the answer’s always going to be the same!” you’ve taken on an irritated tone but you’re grinning at him from across the breakfast table,

“But I don’t know that! What if you change your mind?” he asks and takes a bite of toast,

“Yeah ‘cause I’m likely to decide to get married in the middle of my sixth year, am I?” you steal the other piece of toast from his plate and bite into it. He lets you,

“Maybe? It could be kind of romantic: eloping and doing it in secret?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you earning a playful eye roll from you,

“No way. Your mother would murder you if she found out you’d eloped at sixteen, and I’m pretty sure my mum would be standing in line to get to me next,” you chuckle.

George Weasley had developed a habit of asking you to marry him since you first started dating. He’d first asked you when you were fifteen in Hogsmeade. You, in turn, had choked on your butterbeer and spluttered a panicked:

“WHAT?!”

George had laughed and answered: “You heard me,” and you hadn’t had the faintest idea if your relatively new boyfriend was being serious at all. He’d later admitted that no, he didn’t really think marrying you at the tender age of fifteen was a good idea but in his defence:

“I can still ask you now, and then wait to actually marry you!”

Which was true, but you sort of took the whole marriage thing seriously and so you’d developed a term for The Real One as an understanding that all his questions were not serious proposals and moreso a replacement for “I love you” or another set of endearing words, and that he’d let you know if he did ask The Real One. As the years pass by you’d become used to proposals being randomly thrown at you from the redhead you adored so much. In fact, you’d kept a tally and noted the most noteworthy ones in a small notebook:

#26 George asked me to marry him on a trip to the beach with my family and immediately got hit by a giant wave, suffice to say, I agreed to do it on the condition that he didn’t drown himself in an attempt to impress me.

#168 George learned yesterday that asking me to marry him while I’m hungover with my head in a toilet results in whatever I can grab nearest to me being tossed at him, possibly accompanied by a certain finger being presented to him.

#340 George successfully asked me to marry him during a quidditch match and because of his dashing looks and undeniable charm, not to mention his impressive sportsmanship and talent in the sheets, I said yes!

#341 George needs to learn that if he steals my notebook and forges me saying yes then I’ll never marry the git. ---> Oi, you promised not to say no :( - G Get over it, liar >:/ - Y/n

Now, at age 20, George had asked you a whopping 416 times to marry him, and you had yet to accept nor decline any of those proposals: you couldn’t say yes, because it wasn’t T.R.O (as you’d named it) and you couldn’t get yourself to say no because truth be told: you did want to marry him. A lot. But you figured it was better to wait, you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, so you’d let yourself be amused by your boyfriend’s antics for years, though now as you grew older, there was an air of anticipation behind each time he asked, not to mention that he’d stopped asking you as frequently. He liked throwing you off by asking you unexpectedly,

“You know, if you’re gonna ask me, for real that is,” You ask one night while your head is resting on his chest. You’re in his bed above the shop, the light from the moon illuminating your shapes,

“Yeah?” his chest vibrates when he speaks and you can’t stop the small, content smile that forms on your lips,

“Just so you know, I want a ring-” he cuts you off with a soft laugh,

“- and champagne! lots of it! no ring pops or asking me while we’re in the ocean; I want it to feel real,”

“Got it,” he chuckles, your head bobbing with his chest as it rises and falls, “anything else I can do for you, madam?”

“...Fireworks would be appreciated too, please.”

“Noted,” there’s a moment of domestic, blissful silence, “Y/n?”

“mhm?”

“I love you,”

“I love you too.”

You don’t discuss the proposal anymore for the time being. Things at the order pick up its pace as Harry’s seventeenth birthday approaches and suddenly,

“What’s going on?” You’re standing in the kitchen with a puzzled look on your face as the two identical young men hurriedly come into the apartment and disappear into their respective bedrooms where you follow George to see him change out of his work suit and into a different, purple one at a fast pace,

“Something’s come up with the order, we have to leave tonight,” Fred’s voice explains from his room, you give George a questioning look, he doesn’t meet your eyes,

“I’m also in the order, why wasn’t I told about this?” you ask, as George passes by you into the living room, his eyes fixated on his buttons on his sleeves. In your chest, your heartbeat anxiously speeds up while you wish George would just slow down for once and explain what is going on, though you know that slowing down isn’t exactly the twins’ expertise,

“You know Moody; always so secretive. He probably figured that telling everyone in the order the details would lead to the info leaking or something, don’t worry about it, love,” George flashes a quick reassuring smile at you but you’re already worried about it. In fact, you feel nothing but anxious about this whole situation.

“But what am I supposed to do? just sit here and wait while you go on some secret mission I know nothing about?” you ask while the twins find coats and begin putting them on. Finally, George faces you and quickly approaches you but you’re not calmed by this. A small flicker of anger ignites inside you as you realise that your boyfriend clearly doesn’t take this as seriously as you do, and then again why would he? he knows what’s happening you think to yourself. George gently cups your face in his hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead,

“It’s all going to be fine, I promise,” he says, caressing your cheeks, “tell you what: apparate to the burrow and I’ll meet you there, we’re supposed to go there anyway, alright?”

No, it’s not alright, what part of this is alright?!

“Yeah, alright then,” you say in defeat.

“That’s my girl!” George says and presses his lips to your forehead once more before walking over to his brother,

“Ready, Fred?” He says and Fred nods at him,

“Ready, George,” Fred replies with a grin,

“I’ll see you at the burrow, ok?” George turns to you and when you don’t reply with more than a solemn look, he adds, “Don’t worry.”

And then he’s gone. And you stand in the empty apartment, trying to process everything that just happened in the past ten minutes. Then you apparate to the burrow, landing outside the building. Molly must’ve seen you because the door opens before you’ve even reached the house and you’re more than happy to see her. You let yourself be swept into her embrace as she greets you with the same motherly fashion as she always did,

“I hope it’s not a problem. George sent me here,” you say as you tread inside, Molly closes the door behind you,

“Not at all, dear, I expected he would,” she says with a smile, “I was just about to make some tea, it always calms me on nights like these,” she says, already heading toward the kitchen,

“What do you mean?” You ask, your nerves beginning to gnaw at your insides again,

“Haven’t the boys told you anything?” Molly asks from the stove, you stand in the doorframe and shake your head, “something about the order and Moody but besides that, not much else,” you say,

“Just typical,” Molly tuts, “Oh well, I suppose there’s no reason not to tell you now,” she say and begins explaining the plan of moving Harry to the burrow, of disguising members of the order to look like Harry, the risks of the plan she doesn’t leave out and you don’t feel any better knowing that there’s a real danger of the plan going wrong.

Time passes. Ginny joins you in waiting, you small talk for a little but soon find yourselves too anxious to say anything other than worrying out loud if the order will arrive soon.

After an hour and a half, you’re pacing the living room, unable to sit still. According to Molly, they were supposed to have started showing up some forty minutes ago but when you look out over the dark landscape surrounding the burrow there’s nothing but softly swaying grass and a vast cloudy sky. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom though you don’t do anything other than stare at yourself in the mirror and try to calm yourself down. But you can’t stop thinking about the worst-case scenarios: George coming home hurt, or worse, not coming home at all. You splash water in your face in an attempt to drown out the voice of George telling you not to worry in your head. The words have been echoing in your head since you arrived at the burrow, and each time you find yourself trying to cling to the sound of his voice, remember exactly how it sounded, how his fingers felt on your face as he caressed it, the feeling on his lips on your forehead right before he left, you try to feel the warmth they’d left just in case-

“I think I see someone!” Ginny says and by the sound of the door being flung open you exit the bathroom and follow her and Molly out into the night where one giant figure and one smaller one appear from the tall grass, who you immediately recognise as Harry and Hagrid, both of whom are soaked and clearly shaken up,

“Where are the others?” Harry asks while Hagrid explains to Molly how they hadn’t stood a chance, the death eaters had been awaiting them,

“You’re the first ones back,” Ginny says with a grim expression, she doesn’t get any further though, as the unmistakable pop of apparition brings your attention further down the field,

“Quick!” you hear Lupin yell and when you see the bleeding person he’s carrying you speed up to meet them, Harry beats you to it though, which is good, because when the polyjuice potion wears off and George’s features become clearer you feel as if all the air has been punched out of you, your knees buckling under you for a moment in shock, before you hurriedly follow them inside the house, where Lupin and Harry lay George on the couch. You and Molly sit down beside him and while Lupin grabs Harry and questions him you don’t tear your eyes away from George. You can’t.

“Hi there, darling,” he croaks, his eyes half-open. You place your hand on his chest and wince when you find it’s sticky with blood,

“Hey there,” you say, your voice unsteady. You try not to look at the blood that’s trailing from his ear but against George’s pale skin, it’s difficult not to. You bunch up his shirt in your hand as you try to steady yourself. You feel sick, and it doesn’t take long for tears to find your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, “it’s okay, Y/n,” his hand finds your cheek, as the first tear of many trickles down your face and you struggle to keep composed. You clench your jaw trying not to sob but you still let out a small broken one escape through your lips as you breathe out, as you place your hand on his, squeezing it tightly, you’re afraid. Afraid of him letting go. His eyes close and another sob burst through you. You only look up when you feel a hand on your back, and you find Fred’s concerned face, his hand moves to your shoulder, he gives it a quick squeeze,

“How’re you feeling, Georgie?” he asks, George swallows and for a moment you hold your breath, thinking he’s unconscious, but then his eyes open, just a little,

“Saint-like,” he says, to your surprise, a small smirk tugs at his mouth, you and Fred share a look,

“Come again?” Fred asks, looking pale with worry, the smile on George’s lips broadens,

“Saint-like,” he says, “I’m holey, Fred, I’m holey. Get it?” Georges’s hand leaves yours to gesture to his ear,

Fred’s cheeks gain a little colour as he shakes his head,

“Of all ear-related humour, you go for ‘I’m holey’? that’s pathetic,” Fred says, his smile mirroring his twin.

After a few moments Molly disappears to find some things to help mend George’s ear, and the order agrees to give him some privacy by moving into the kitchen, leaving you alone with the twins, Fred gets comfortable next to the couch, and you stay put, stroking George’s hair with a still-shaky hand.

“Don’t worry,” George says,

“You do realise that saying that over and over isn’t going to work, right?” You answer, brushing tufts of ginger hair away from his forehead,

“worth a try,” he replies, closing his eyes again a pained expression forming on his face and you know that he’ll most likely pull through but you can’t seem to let go of the ‘what if?’ resting in the back of your mind. Molly reappears with a bag of various remedies and ingredients, she picks out a sample of bottles, and then goes to find a cloth and some water,

“I would use magic,” She says, “but I think this is easier to control,” she wrings the cloth and both you and Fred eye it nervously,

“You gonna be ok?” You ask George when he opens his eyes at the sound of the water from the cloth dripping into the bowl beneath it. He swallows hard,

“Yeah, I think so,” he says, “It’s a bit of water, how bad could it be?” you try giving him an encouraging smile but you know that beneath it all you’re both aware that this isn’t going to be pleasant,

Molly gingerly touches the cloth to George’s ear and he winces, letting out a sharp hiss and his hold on your hand tightens, reminding you that your boyfriend, the former beater, is a lot stronger than you but you don’t ask him to let go, or say anything at all, your lips form a thin line as you watch him grimace and whimper with every stroke of the cloth against the cut. Molly apologies profusely and promises that she’s doing it as fast as she can, her eyes lined with tears as well. Fred grows pale when Molly wrings the cloth again, turning the water a bright vermillion and excuses himself,

the cut looks better after it’s rinsed and Molly gently applies some of the remedies she’s picked out, before asking your help in holding George, who’s close to unconscious again, while she bandages him,

“It’s not much,” she says in a shaky voice, “but it’ll do till tomorrow,”

“Do you think it’ll heal?” you ask, your voice is grainy and you now realise how dry your mouth is. Molly runs a hand over her son’s forehead,

“you can never know with dark magic, if it was cursed off we can’t know if there’ll be side effects,” she says, “we’ll just have to wait,” she sighs, watching George with glossy eyes. Then she picks up the water and turns to go,

“I’ll go clean up,” she says with a sniffle, leaving you alone in the living room with George. He looks a lot less frightening without the blood covering his neck and face, and with the bandage covering the ear, he looks almost normal, though he’s paler than you’ve ever seen him. You overhear Fred talk to Molly, who orders him to go upstairs and rest, you reckon he’s not doing well either, after a lot of arguing from Fred he complies. Molly comes in with a tearstained face and some blankets. Together you rearrange pillows and blankets, so you can lay next to George on the floor,

“We’ll have to leave the clothes on until tomorrow, as much as I’d like to change them,” Molly says, eyeing the bloody stains on the jacket and t-shirt he’s wearing, “oh well,” she says, “I think it’s best if we all get some sleep. You’ll be alright here, dear?” she asks,

“Yes, I think so,” you say, not sure you’ll be getting much sleep. You try to get comfortable next to George, holding his hand and laying down, staring at the ceiling. You quickly accept that sleep isn’t coming to you, and you sit up again, resting your head on your arm so that you’re almost laying next to George. It’s easier to relax when you can see him. See his chest rise and fall slowly. Hear his breathing. Feel it. Warm and soft, reminding you that he’s still here. Your eyes grow heavy and you’re nearly asleep when,

“Y/n?” your eyes open at the sound of his voice, you blink at him. His eyes are staring intently at you in the dim light,

“What?” you ask,

“Can I ask you something?”

you sit up,

“It’s just,” he begins, taking breaks in between his words, you wonder if anything Molly has given him has made him loopy, “I’ve been thinking about everything, and since I suppose I can say I’ve had a near death experience, it wouldn’t be right if it didn’t put some things into perspective,” he says, smiling at your puzzled expression,

“where are you going with-”

“will you marry me?”

“...what?” you stare at him,

“I had a whole thing planned but I think I’d rather do it now so I’ll never have to almost lose the opportunity to ask you for real again,” he says,

“George,” you say, awestruck “are you sure?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been,” he says in an almost unrecognisably serious tone, his eyes locked into yours,

You take a shaky breath, “ask me again.”

The same cheeky grin he’d always wear when he’d ask you appears on his face and you could cry because for the first time that night he looks like himself again,

“Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” he asks, taking both your hands in his, you don’t move to stop the warm tears that spill down your face, tasting them as you smile, nodding at him,

“yes, George Weasley, of course I’ll marry you,” you say, diving in to kiss him gently, his hand finds your face, his thumb wiping your tears away,

“Please don’t cry over me, Y/n,” he says, your faces still close, earning a half-sob half-chortle from you,

“I’m your bloody fiance now, I’ll cry however much I want over you,” you say, kissing him again.

“How many times did I ask?” he asks,

“I think that was the 417th time,” you reply, he pouts,

“Damn, my goal was a thousand,” he says with a smirk, “wait,” his eyes widen, “what am I supposed to ask you now?” he says. You allow yourself to laugh,

“you don’t have to ask me anything, thank you very much,”

“...Want to renew our vows?” he tries,

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind: I’m divorcing you,” you say, laying down beside him,

“hey! we’re not married yet,” he says,

“Then I’m divorcing you prematurely,” you say, “now get some sleep!”

***

Bill and Fleur’s wedding was wonderfully different from the way the rest of your lives were going. The war was pressing on with more and more shops in Diagon Alley closed down for an indefinite amount of time. Everywhere you went, people seemed anxious, awaiting something unknown, a sort of resolution to all the dread. In the middle of it all, a wedding had seemed misplaced but standing in the tent behind the burrow, seeing people actually laugh, dance and enjoy themselves, you felt more at ease than you had in months.

“Hey,” George appears next to you, handing you a glass of champagne,

“Hi,” you say, looking at Luna dancing with her father for a moment, you turn to George, “how’s the ear?” you ask, George didn’t talk about it much, insisting it was fine which didn’t stop you and Molly from fussing over him still,

“It’s okay,” He says, “If I’m honest, I hardly notice it anymore. Now I just want the bandages off,” he chuckles. You stand together, watching the crowd for a moment,

“Can I show you something?” he asks after sipping his drink,

“Right now?” your eyebrow lifts,

“Right now. Come on,” he nods towards the exit of the tent, extending his hand for you to take,

“What are we doing in your room?” you ask, a little winded the alcohol and from climbing the stairs,

“Sit down,” he gestures to his bed and heads to his dresser, rummaging through the third drawer down, “Where is it, I could’ve sworn- Oh! here it is!” he picks up a small object. He turns to you with a grin, “Now, I know that The Real One didn’t exactly go as planned, but I did have a whole thing planned, so,” he walks over to you and kneels down, opening the small object to reveal a stunning engagement ring, “I figured I owe you this,” he says,

“you got me a ring?” you say a little breathlessly, feeling ridicoulus when tears rim your eyes for what feels like the millionth time since George lost his ear,

“bought it with my first salary from the shop,” he replies with a sheepish smirk, “do you like it?”

“I love it, George,” you say, “really, it’s beautiful,”

“Want me to put it on you?”

“Duh!” you laugh,

George slips the ring onto your finger with ease and presses a kiss to your hand, then places soft kisses up your arm to your shoulder, your neck and finally your lips, his tongue swiping across your lips, deepening the kiss for a moment before you both break away with breathless laughter. He rests his forehead on yours, taking your hands in his, looking at the light shifting in the jewels in the ring,

“About bloody time we made it official, too,” he says with a sense of content finality, his hand cups your cheek, kissing you again, this time hungrier and you let him lower you onto his bed to celebrate your final engagement properly.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #Harry Potter #HP #fred weasley #george weasley headcanon

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 4 years ago

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Tentaquicky

Pairing; Jeon Jeongguk(BTS) x open male tentacle monster character. Imagine whoever you want. Genre; Smut. Monster au I guess? Borderline Crack. Humour. Warnings; Tentacle smut. Multiple orgasms(two) Name calling by author(sorry jk) Overstimulation. Profanity, like lots though once again, mostly by author. Cum eating. Too much cum but like, monster so its valid. Throat fucking. Bottom JK. I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed anything. Word Count; 2.7k

Jeongguk gets fucked in an alley by a tentacle monster and discovers he got some kinks.

Read below the cut

🐙

It started like any other time, lips on his and a hand wrapped around his hard cock. The lips were slick and wet and the hand warm and dry and it was fucking heavenly. Jeongguk had always liked it a little on the rougher side even if he had been too shy to tell anyone that. And it was only supposed to be a hookup, some random guy from the club jerking each other off in the back alley before returning to the club and going their separate ways, so Jeongguk really didn’t see the point of even trying to gather the nerves to tell this guy.

It was supposed to be normal. Standard. Run of the mill. You know, nothing extraordinary.

But damn, something about this guy was making Jeongguk want something else, something more, something he couldn’t even put his finger on(though he really wanted to put both his fingers and his tongue on something more, something bigger, thicker, fatter, longer, girthier, all those words Jeongguk craved in his mouth).

And this next moment should’ve been the moment Jeongguk put a stop to it all to really consider what the actual fuck is happening because the stranger’s tongue seemed to grow and thicken and fucking lengthen and the next thing Jeongguk knew it was was prodding at the back of his throat cautiously.

He gagged, of course, he gagged, he hadn’t expected it and wasn’t prepared to have his throat fucked at all while making out but holy shit did it feel good.

Jeongguk relaxed his throat and the man hummed feeling the muscles loosen, allowing his newly rounded tongue to wiggle down, only barely, before pulling back and trying again.

And Jeongguk, our favourite little cockslut, whined and moaned and swallowed it down further, practically begging for it.

While Jeongguk was busy getting his throat absolutely destroyed and loving every second of it, the man removed his hand from the leaking cock to push down the tight leather trousers further until they were bunched around Jeongguk’s ankles.

And Jeongguk, Jeongguk thought it couldn’t get better but then there was a hand on each asscheek to pull them apart and something slick and rounded was prodding at his exposed hole and he was so glad that Hoseok had dragged him to the club that night.

For a moment, Jeongguk didn’t exactly register that there was no physically possible way that it was a cock pressing insistently against his rim; his back was to the wall and the stranger was in front of him, so unless this guy had some kind of elastidick, it just wasn’t possible.

The moment passed and Jeongguk’s right hand flew from his partner’s shoulder in an attempt to reach around and touch whatever it was but something wrapped around his wrist and pinned it to the wall by his side, followed by his left hand too for good measure.

Jeongguk finally opened his watering eyes to look at the man who was already staring at him with dark eyes, full of lust and a hunger Jeongguk had never had directed at him before. A shiver ran down his spine.

Slowly, Jeongguk lowered his gaze, doing his best to look to the side to find out what had his arms pinned, all he knew was that it(they?) felt firm yet squishy and soft in a contradiction that he couldn’t wrap his poor horny brain around.

But due to being pressed against the stranger with his tongue(?) still pressing in and out of his throat at a leisurely pace, he couldn’t see jack shit.

A desperate, pleading whine vibrated his throat and the man groaned at the feel of it but respectfully returned his monster tongue to his own mouth and took a step back.

“Wh-wha..?” Now Jeongguk wasn’t the most eloquent at the best of times so his inability to string together a coherent single word let alone a sentence in the situation could be easily forgiven.

While his chest heaved in an attempt to return his breathing back to normal, Jeongguk’s eyes once again roamed aside but this time he found what exactly his bindings were made of.

Or at least he thought he would’ve but the things wrapped around his wrists looked like fucking tentacles and well, that couldn’t be right. Right? Like, tentacles...like monster tentacles...fuck.

Really, he should’ve noticed from the tongue that grew in his fucking mouth that something wasn’t quite human about this fella but Jeongguk is nothing but a hentai loving, tentacle dick riding slut, so honestly he wasn’t opposed to the progression at all.

The man just watched, hoping that this wasn’t going to be another human who he would have to knock out and drag away to have their mind wiped or at least memories altered in a way that would only make them sound batshit crazy if they ran off screaming to the authorities.

He really had felt that special kind of tingle he got around humans that were at least open to monster fucking, but he had been wrong before- sometimes he couldn’t tell the difference between really needing a piss and the special tingle and it had led to some less than ideal situations.

Finally, Jeongguk’s gaze travelled along the length of the smooth, deep pink-tinted purple tentacle to where it was slimmest, exactly where the man’s dick should’ve been. But instead, three tentacles sprouted, each barely thicker than a single thumb at the base to allow them to spawn from the same limited area.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk exhaled, breathless even with lungs full of air.

“Three dicks.”

“Not exactly.” The man chuckled, relaxing upon noticing that his pretty little human wasn’t at all disgusted or scared, if anything, he looked more into their hook up than before they stopped dancing to find somewhere relatively private to get each other off.

Before Jeongguk’s very eyes, another tentacle sprouted, growing and reaching out, getting thicker as it stretched until it was wrapped around Jeongguk’s neglected cock.

The human whimpered pitifully and jerked his hips forward only for the warm appendage to tighten almost painfully around the base of his erection, preventing him from moving or gaining any pleasure from his efforts. At least that was the plan but Jeongguk discovered he liked it, if anything.

“Oh, I guess I got real lucky with you, huh, little one?” The monster cooed teasingly.

“Lube?” Jeongguk asked, unwilling to beat around the bush when he could be getting railed by a real tentacle, maybe two if he played his cards right.

“My secretions work better than any human lubricant.”

“Oh fuck, tentacle lube,” Jeongguk tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes closed in an attempt to not prematurely blow his load because man, this was all of his wettest dreams rolled into one.

“Fuck me, come on, put it in me already, I stretched before coming out, almost my whole fucking fist I can take-” The pressure on his rim cut him off and made his eyes blow wide when the tentacle that hadn’t moved from between his barely spread thighs breached his hole.

It seemed to expand inside him, instantly pushing against his prostate and making him gasp and twitch.

He was full in a way he had never been before and just knew he would never be able to replicate no matter how many toys or human dicks he shoved in his ass.

“Good boy,”

“Fuck yeah I am.”

The man only chuckled in response and said nothing more.

Not that he could really when he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to reveal another tentacle in his place.

Jeongguk’s mouth was wide open and his eyes begging in a split second.

They both groaned deeply as the tonguetacle returned to its rightful place fucking Jeongguk’s mouth and throat, though now it wasn’t gentle or slow, it was almost vicious, the speed and depth at which it worked.

A mixture of spit and thick secretion pooled in Jeongguk’s eager mouth until it spilt over, drooling down his chin, sliding over his jaw and dripping onto his chest, revealed by having about five too many buttons open; standard for club going Jeongguk since he turned 23 and the world thanked him for it.

The tentacle on his dick finally loosened its hold and leaked a little, just enough to ease the slide as it curled around in a slow, teasing manner that was entirely contradictory to the battering his throat was getting and the thick, unwavering pulsating in his asshole that he just knew was going to leave him gaping. He couldn’t fucking wait to bend over in front of a mirror later to get a good look at it, he hoped that monster cum would leak out. But beggars can’t be choosers- though Jeongguk would happily beg for it if it came down to it.

Getting destroyed at three different sensitive parts of his body in different ways had Jeongguk fucking hurtling towards his orgasm at a speed and intensity which he had only read of in poorly written fanfiction by authors that have no idea what they’re doing where smut writing is involved. Incredible.

It barely took another minute before he found himself writhing and shuddering as his orgasm exploded from his dick like a twitchy weird little fleshy volcano that spews cum. And it was wonderful.

The tongue receded from his mouth so that he didn’t choke in a way that would not be sexy at all.

But the one in his ass, it continued its work, pounding and throbbing, sending Jeongguk into oversensitivity but all he could do was whimper and whine and fucking take it like the good boy he is.

It felt as if it continued for hours, the relentless stimulation on his prostate, the slick touches to his still hard though tired yet enthusiastically twitching cock.

Then all at once, all four tentacles started to swell and that sent Jeongguk into another orgasm, much less intense but equally as mind numbing as the last.

He was barely coherent enough to notice the sudden slick exploding all over his body, over his forearms, over his crotch and dick to merge with his own cum, in his ass at such a quantity that it was already trying to escape past the tentacle.

“Fuck, such a good little doll for me,” The stranger panted, showing the first and only sign of the whole ordeal that he was at all affected by everything that had happened.

He was breathing heavily and slumped forward a little, something thick and shimmering spilling from his mouth. Jeongguk wanted to taste it, of fucking course he wanted to taste it. It’s Jeon Jeongguk.

The man seemed to understand the whimper that pierced the gap between them and stepped forward to slide their lips together.

Jeongguk didn’t know what exactly the stuff was, if it was some of that tentacle lube or monster cum that spilled from the tentacle in the man’s mouth, but whatever it was, it was fucking delicious and Jeongguk never wanted to stop sucking at the tongue that had returned.

Wasting a drop of the thick liquid was utter blasphemy to the monster fucker.

The man didn’t seem to mind at all, just stuck his tongue out and allowed the human to inhale every single drop from it, followed by his lips until there was nothing left.

Jeongguk whined pitifully.

“There’s plenty left, don’t worry,” The man informed, motioning downwards between their bodies.

So Jeongguk lowered his head and found more of the shimmering slick covering his soft cock and the tentacle supporting it.

“Want it, little one?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk nodded.

A shudder travelled through his body as the tentacle wrapped around his dick to drag the mix of fluids off of it before lifting to enter his parted mouth.

The human eagerly swallowed down every glob with little moans and happy hums.

After that, each of his arms were lifted to his mouth to be licked clean and let go, leaving sticky marks and bruises circling his wrists that Jeongguk hoped wouldn’t heal for at least a week.

“One more.” Jeongguk commented, throat sore from the fucking it received but he kind of liked it. He really was learning a lot about his kinks in such a short time.

They both looked down to the only tentacle left protruding from the man’s crotch, the others had retreated into his body leaving one single, thick one left, the one that was still snug in his ass.

“I’ll pull out now, okay?”

“But the cum,” He whined, shaking his head in argument. “Want it in my ass or mouth. Don’t wanna waste it.”

“Whatever you want, doll.” The man lowered to a crouch and pulled Jeongguk’s trousers from his ankles, finally giving his legs freedom. But instead of letting the human move, the monster hoisted Jeongguk up into the air, pressing his back harder against the wall and holding him up with two new tentacles that appeared.

“Fuck, they’re strong?” Jeongguk breathed out in awe, head tipping back against the brick as his fingers knotted in the man’s hair instinctively.

He mentally added strength to his rapidly growing kink list.

“Should’ve fucked me against the wall like this.”

His breath hitched and his fingers tightened when he felt a tongue lapping around his rim to clean up the tiny amount of shining cum that had escaped.

Little by little, the pressure in his ass decreased as the tentacle slowly slimmed down to allow the man to catch the dripping slick in his mouth without wasting a drop.

When his mouth was full, the tentacle plugged Jeongguk’s hole back up and the man got to his feet.

Jeongguk’s back dragged down the brick until he was lower than the man. At the rise of an eyebrow, the human opened his mouth and tipped his head back.

The monster leaned over him and opened his mouth slowly, feeding his cum to the desperate male.

Jeongguk wanted until the man backed up before closing his mouth, lifting his head and swallowing it down greedily.

“More?” Jeongguk requested, eyes wide with a hint of darkness revealing lust hiding behind the glaze of two orgasms and being fucked dumb.

“There will be none left to take home with you if you eat much more,”

Yet he still returned to his previous place between Jeongguk’s propped open thighs to suck out a final mouthful to spit into the humans’ mouth.

As Jeongguk swallowed it down, he was gently lowered to the floor and the tentacle in his ass slipped out slowly. He was allowed to at least suck it clean before it retreated and the monster’s crotch looked like any other human crotch with a soft dick where it should be.

The two got themselves into a presentable state; dicks tucked away and clothes straightened. And well, Jeongguk’s makeup was smudged and he had glittering stains all over his shirt but he couldn’t do a thing about either of those so he just shrugged and didn’t even bother trying to clean up more.

It was clear he had been fucked and he wasn’t even going to try and hide it. Best fuck of his life.

“Can you walk?” The stranger asked, eyeing Jeongguk carefully, as if he was ready to jump forward and catch the human if he fell. How sweet.

“Will you carry me if I say no?” Jeongguk suggested, partly cheeky, partly suggestive which only made the man laugh amusedly.

“Come on, your friends must be worried.” He offered his hand.

Jeongguk took it and pushed himself away from the wall. His legs felt like fucking jelly and his ass wet.

Forget what he said earlier about the making out and handjob feeling like heaven, this was heaven for the human, utter bliss.

He stopped in his steps and gave the stranger a cute pleading look.

“You seriously want me to carry you?”

“If it means you’ll take me home and fuck me full again, yes because I’m already leaking.”

“Do you often fuck strangers in dirty alleys and then take them home?”

“No but I’ll make a habit out of it if they all have tentacles.”

“I definitely picked the right human.” He pulled the human closer only to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Luckily for both of us, I only live around the corner.”

🐙

A/N- Part of me wants to apologise for this shit show but mostly I don’t because it amused me. Apparently I’m not good at writing serious smut anymore though, who knew ~Chee

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 128

This is another chapter that I started with one intention and it kind of dragged me the other way. I started with what Miys says at the beginning as a kernel, and...

Yeah, avoiding spoilers, you get...*waves frantically* this. Which I am excited about seeing where it goes.

Kudos to @baelpenrose and @mustachebatarts for this chapter. You’ll both understand when you read it :)

Tyche nodded sleepily as Alistair handed her a cup of coffee, mirroring my own struggle to wake up. It was the beginning of Alpha shift - roughly 6:30am Terran Pacific NorthAm time - and we were starting our week with an extremely rare mission brief. Parvati and Hannah seemed either anxious or excited - possibly a combination - as the last brief they had received was ship-wide when we announced the lighting changes. Neither of them had ever been in one of the Council-only meetings that preceded such announcements.

Due to the growth on the Council - both among administrators and among Mentees - it wasn’t feasible to hold this meeting face to face in the room ordinarily used for such things. As a result, each Councilor was joining from their respective office, along with auxiliary staff who needed to be privy to the information discussed. For someone like Grey, that would be themself, Antoine, and their current admin, Nora. In my case, it was everyone who reported to my office.

“Has everyone joined?” I asked in my role as Parliamentarian for this meeting. No one liked the position, so it rotated.

“Still waiting on Huynh, Charly, and Ivan,” Eino replied.

“We’re here!” an entirely-too-awake voice greeted.

Ignoring the laugh that Alistair and Hannah were suppressing, I forged ahead. “That’s everyone then. Good Morning, Council. Today is January 23rd, 2051 Terran-relative time, 45th day of Von cold season Year four Pre-Colony. We are currently two Terran years from Von. Miys has requested that we gather this morning for an important mission update so that we can prepare. Miys, you have the floor.”

“Thank you, Wisdom. Good day, Human Council.” I couldn’t tell if Miys had practiced or was operating on multiple minds, but the resemblance to a human public-speaker was startling. “As stated by Councilor Wisdom, the Yjq is currently two Terran years from your destination. We requested to address you in order to advise that navigational adjustments will be necessary within one Terran year of the planet you call Von.”

Murmurs erupted on the conference, but no one actually interrupted, so Miys continued. “Due to the density of systems in this portion of the Galaxy, the final Terran year of the journey cannot be made at our current speed. The Yjq will need to drop out of relativistic space and complete the remaining leg in realspace.”

“How does this immediately impact the human population?” Grey asked first, hardly letting Miys finish their statement.

“With the sensors operational, there should be no noticeable difference in the transition,” came the answer. “However, there will be the introduction of potential physical hazards once we are in realspace.”

After a pause of silence, Xiomara spoke up. “Are you talking about the potential of being attacked?”

“Galactic law prohibits acts of violence against aide or rescue vessels.”

I heard an explosive snort before an extremely dry voice joined in. “Miys, that is the opposite of an answer,” Evania argued. “And we all know that criminals are famous for their adherence to the letter of the law.”

An alert chirped on my data band, and I almost choked when I saw Arthur’s message: “Oh, I LIKE her…”

“Once we are no longer in relativistic space, the Yjq is due to rendezvous with an Ekomari escort within thirty Terran days.”

“And what is the tactical benefit of that escort?” Evan pushed.

Rather than Miys, Charly responded. “Ekomari are very aggressive, but even more bound by a code of honor. They view preying on the weak - including rescue and aide vessels - the most disgusting behavior imaginable. This extends to the point of stopping their own attacks once the enemy is considered defeated.”

“Only an extremely overconfident or suicidal crew would try to go up against an Ekomari squadron that is escorting us,” Arthur finished.

“That is satisfactory. No objections.”

Approval in her tone, Xiomara launched the next question. “What about the thirty days we won’t have an escort? What is normally done on that leg of the journey?”

“Optimally, there is no such period during such a relocation.” I heard every person in my office inhale with dread at that statement. “During this time, there is always an increased concern that pirates and scavengers will attack in an attempt to be the first beings with artifacts from the newly present species.”

“Souvenirs… They want us for souvenirs…” Tyche muttered.

“We will discuss our options once we have all the information,” I stated loudly, trying to keep the meeting going before everyone panicked. “Miys, what other information do we need to know about the final year of the journey?”

“Once we are in realspace, long distance scans and data mining operations will begin for more accurate information regarding Von. This information will be communicated to the entire Council so that any changes or updates to colony plans may be adjusted and finalized. That is all for now.”

“Thank you Miys. You may remain in the meeting, as we may need your input regarding Galactic regulations, statistics, or laws.”

“Of course, Wisdom.”

I nodded and took a deep breath. “Xiomara, I’m pretty sure that you and Evan have a lot to say on the matter at hand. Are there any objections to Health and Safety taking the floor?”

After a round of negatives, I conceded the floor. “Thank you, Sophia. Council, clearly there is a pressing matter in our future, here at the end of a tumultuous era, just as our goal is in sight. We cannot allow thirty days of risk to derail us now. For all that we have striven to show humanity as capable of peace and change, we now need to reach down to the roots of our very existence and ensure that we will not be undefended in that month.”

“Miys, the Ark is equipped with scouting probes and evacuation shuttles,” Evan followed. “What are the chances that we can repurpose those into our own small squadron for defensive purposes.”

“Doing such would invalidate the protection the Yjq is afforded by Galactic Law.”

“Excuse me, what!?” I sputtered, completely caught off guard.

“Hospital ships are only protected so long as they are incapable of defense, to prevent opposing forces from attacking each other under the guise of aide,” Charly explained in a mournful tone.

Evan and I groaned heavily. “At least tell me that the odds of any attackers completely blowing up the ship are low?”

“They would only be able to do so by detonating our drives from the inside. To do so from the exterior would require more force than a coronal ejection from a white dwarf star.”

That was reassuring at least.

“So we would be safe as long as they don’t board the ship,” Arthur acknowledged. I could see where his next question was going, but Evan beat him to it by a mile.

“Since we are not Hujylsogox, and are only the cargo of the Ark, there are no prohibitions against us defending ourselves in the event of a forced boarding, correct? Only you, yourself, would not be able to fight back.”

“This is correct, Commander Josue. I am not allowed to interfere in such a matter.”

Interesting wording. Noah was telling us, as officially as allowed, that it would not fight the intruders, but also would not stop us from any actions we took. I smiled as I felt a confirming nudge in the back of my mind.

“Well, those weapons demonstrations were certainly not just for fun,” Huynh growled. I could hear Charly cackling in the background before he confirmed to her that, yes, she can play with the construction exos.

“Let’s be organized about this,” Xiomara insisted. “For those comfortable with helping defend, we need to set up anti-boarding drills to start six months out at the latest. For those on the ship who are against violence, sort them into who can provide medical aid and who needs to do evacuation drills. Eino, Arthur - can you assist Sophia’s team with that?”

“We can,” Eino confirmed, echoed by Arthur.

Parvati and Hannah glanced at each other silently before the former jumped in. “I recommend that at least one person with weapons training is assigned to each evacuation group, as a worst case defense.”

“I second that,” Xiomara agreed in a clipped tone. “Any objections?” A brief, silent pause. “Good. Add that to the strategy.”

“Miys, we need a list of what species are most likely to be found on pirate vessels. Knowing their biology will go a long way to developing defense strategies,” Arthur requested.

“I like it,” Evan approved. “Ekomari may be honorable, but humanity has survived this long because we aren’t ashamed of taking cheap shots.”

“It is safe to assume that boarding parties will not have electromagnetic vision, as it has been advised that it is quite rare in the galaxy,” Grey pointed out. “We can use this to our advantage, most likely.”

“If we’re lucky to be in the light part of the cycle…” Tyche muttered.

“Administrator Reid has a point,” Pranav admitted, startling her. “If we are in the dark part of the cycle, we will be at a distinct disadvantage.”

“The lights are artificial,” Huynh sighed. “We can turn them on.”

“If I may interject,” Miys responded. “It is not as simple as you seem to believe to increase the light emitters on the entire Ark, Councilor Huynh. The drain on the ship engines could permanently damage them.”

I could feel Charly’s eyes rolling in my soul when she picked up from there. “We can try to make some plans for that contingency. Pranav does have a point.”

“So that’s anti-boarding drills, evacuation drills, aid teams, threat assessment, and at least a start on evaluating where we stand from a defensive perspective. Once Sophia, Eino, and their offices coordinate who is which group, we’ll pull back up to determine who will be leading which initiatives,” Xiomara recapped. “Sophia, anything else we need to cover?”

“I think that’s the priorities right now,” I confirmed, effectively ending the meeting. Once I closed out the channel, I turned to those in my office. “So, how do we feel about this?”

“Like you are going to be in one of the evacuation groups, stuffed as far back in the ship as possible,” Tyche stated drily.

“If we get boarded,” I pointed out. “It may not happen.”

“Madam Reid, you are on this ship.”

I scowled at Alistair before turning to Parvati and Hannah. “Reach out to Arthur and Eino to schedule that meeting.”

Hannah looked unsure. “Why are they being loaned to us for this? Eino’s a Councillor.”

The door of my office hissed open and the rhythmic thud of boots walked in. “Because your office, specifically Tyche, handles all ship staffing, while I am being used for physical ability assessments, and Eino literally has nothing to do as head of Education in all this.” Arthur nodded his head in thanks when Alistair handed him tea.

I just pointed at him and nodded. “Besides, this way Xiomara is indirectly involved.” I glanced at Parvati before winking. “It was a clever move, I have to admit.”

Parvati smiled and shook her head. “I can’t even say you’re wrong. That’s exactly why she did it, honestly, on all counts.”

“And that is part of it, too.” Tyche waved. “Work more closely with your fellow future Councillors, and you learn to read what they aren’t saying. Our office works very closely with Xio’s and Grey’s, so we have to know how best to keep that going.”

Arthur just held his arms wide and shrugged. “I have to respect Xiomara’s tendency to keep her fingers on all pulses. She’s almost as bad as Sophia that way.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true,” Alistair sighed. “You are profoundly nosy.”

Hannah groaned and threw her head back. “We are never going to be on the Council at this rate.”

“Excuse me?? That’s the point of all this!” I gestured around my office energetically.

“Yes, because you will totally retire,” Hannah said slowly, nodding her head like I was a toddler. “Of course you will, Sophia. We all know it…”

Parvati snickered, covering it badly. Arthur gave me a pointed look, and I could hear him repeating ‘obsessive, compulsive perfectionist’.

I was saved, for certain, weird values of salvation, by Tyche. She just glanced down at her nails, studying them, before calmly glancing at me. “Charly is dangerously close to getting approval from Sebastian for her proposal of kink night at the Undine. Think really hard if you want to be on the Council for that, Sophia. It would be an event, meaning it would come to this office.”

“Yep, retiring soon,” I squeaked. Laughter erupted around me as my face heated up. “I’m all for sex positivity, but I just can’t fathom the logistics of that. Nope. Not gonna be me. Y’all have fun. Enjoy. All yours.”

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#the miys #humans are weird #aliens #apocalypse #post-apocalypse #science fiction #humans are awesom #humans are space orcs #pirates #plot #strategy

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spooderboyandtincan · 4 years ago

Text

Being a Dad

TW: Mentions of blood

“Tony, we need you for this mission. C’mon.”

Tony stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. “I’m not leaving my kid, Rogers.”

They both looked to Peter, who lay silent, a thick layer of bandages wrapping around his torso.

Steve sighed. “Tony, I know you don’t want to leave him, but he’s fine. He’s recovering.”

The inventor massaged his forehead, glancing around the dark room. “I can’t let him wake up alone.”

“He won’t be alone. The mission will be fast. Peter probably won’t even notice you’re gone.”

They both jumped as Sam burst into the room. “Are you guys coming? We need to go now.”

Tony hesitated. “FRI, if Peter wakes up, tell him I’m on a mission and I’ll be back soon. And tell him not to move around too much, and to call me if he needs help. Call me if he wakes up, too. Got it?”

“Overprotective, are we, boss?” the AI replied.

He smiled. “Always am.” The genius bent and kissed Peter’s cheek gently. “Stay safe for me buddy, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

Tony looked sadly at his kid’s closed eyes, then followed Steve out of the room. “I’ll be right back.”

~~~~~

The first thing Peter noticed was the empty space beside him. No familiar heartbeat, no breathing, no talking.

Where was Mr. Stark?

Tony was always there.

He groaned and blinked. “Mr. Stark?”

FRIDAY’s kind voice filled the room. “Tony is on a mission right now. He will be back soon. He requested I tell you not to move around, and to call him if you are in need of help.”

Peter nodded. “Is he okay?”

The AI hesitated. “My attempts to contact Mr. Stark have been unsuccessful.”

He froze. “What?”

“I’m sure boss would not want you to worry, Peter.”

“He-he hasn’t responded? What about the rest of the team?”

“No one has answered.”

Oh god, what if Mr. Stark was hurt, or captured, or-

No, he wouldn’t say it.

“I have to help him!” Peter shifted to the side of the bed and carefully stood up.

Bad idea.

His torso flashed with a hot pain and he doubled over. “O-ow.”

“Peter? Please sit down to avoid hurting yourself further,” FRIDAY said, urgency crossing her voice.

“N-no, FRI, I’m fine.” He breathed deeply. “See? I’m good.”

“Peter, moving any more would cause your stitches to come loose. Please sit down,” she insisted.

Peter winced and leaned heavily against the wall. “No, I- I gotta make sure they’re okay.” He stumbled to the hallway.

He needed to help Mr. Stark

The boy staggered down the hallway, the pain increasing. He could hear his stitches tearing, which was definitely not good.

He didn’t remember being in so much pain before.

Ugh, it was so hot

Wait, what was he doing? Where was Mr. Stark?

Oh right… Mr. Stark needed help

He needed to help him!

“Help who?” he mumbled aloud, sliding down the wall. “Help? Who’m I helpin’?”

He winced as a voice pierced his ears. “Peter, I have contacted Mr. Stark and emergency medical services, but my communication seems to be failing. Stay awake until help arrives, Peter.”

He blinked slowly.

There was a voice in the ceiling. So weird…

Was it Clint?

Wait… who was Clint?

The sky voice was still talking, but he didn’t really understand it.

Medical services. Mr. Stark. Stay awake.

What?

~~~~~

Tony had to keep himself from calling Peter every ten seconds, reminding himself that FRIDAY was there and would alert him if anything happened.

He had a deep feeling that something was wrong.

The genius hummed anxiously. The mission was relatively simple. Just a quick trip to a suspected HYDRA facility, then out again. No fighting.

“Cap? I’m gonna head out.”

“Tony- wait, you’re leaving?” Steve exclaimed.

“Yeah,” he replied, then blasted into the sky.

“FRIDAY, call Peter.”

“Of course, boss.” There was a pause, and then- “My attempts to contact Peter have failed. Would you like me to try again?”

Tony could feel his heart beating out of his chest. “That’s not possible.”

“My sy-sytems have been compromised, boss. I-I can’t-”

“FRI?”

Nothing.

The screen flickered. “Fuck,” he snapped, increasing speed as the back up power lit his face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

God, he needed to get to Peter yesterday.

~~~~~

He landed on the compound roof, cracking the cement. Tony sprinted to the medbay, stopping only when he spotted Peter’s tiny body on the ground.

“Peter!” he screamed, falling to his knees and cupping his face in his hands. “Whoa- no, no no no, what happened?!”

Oh god, there was blood. Peter’s blood, Peter’s blood on his hands.

He pressed his fingers to his neck, where Peter’s pulse beat rapidly. “Oh, baby, oh my god. Wake up, kiddo. Wake up!”

Tony gently scooped Peter into his arms and rushed to the medbay. The lights flickered on, and he set his kid carefully on his bed, kissing his forehead. “I’ll be right back, baby. Hold on for me.”

He dashed to the cabinet, frantically searching for a needle and thread.

Tony hated himself for doing this. Hatred that burned and solidified permanently.

But he took the needle, his hands shaking, and stitched Peter’s wound back up.

It was something he would never, ever forgive himself for, leaving his kid alone, who got hurt because of him.

God, this was all his fault.

~~~~~

“Stark! What’s wrong?” Steve cried, his heart leaping as he spotted Tony, slumped over in a chair by Peter’s hospital bed, head in his hands.

Tony startled, jumping up to stand in front of his kid. “Oh. Steve, it’s you.”

They both pretended not to notice as he wiped tears from his face.

Tony Stark doesn’t cry.

“What happened? Is Peter okay?”

Tony sighed, scrubbing at his eyes. “He pulled a few stitches. He-he was up looking for me. God.”

Steve frowned. “Didn’t you tell FRIDAY to alert you if that happened? Is that why you left?”

The inventor bit his lip. “FRI- she was hacked.”

All his fault.

“What?! How? Did you fix it?” Steve said.

“Yes, I fixed it.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how, and I need to figure that out.”

Steve noticed the way he looked at Peter in worry and protectiveness.

“Look, Tony, we can get someone else from the team to track whoever did it. You can just focus on Peter, okay?”

Tony’s eyes gleamed with relief. “Thanks, Rogers.” He sat back down, grasping Peter’s hand and smoothing his hair back.

Cap nodded. It never failed to surprise him how much Tony loved this kid. How overprotective and worried he was all the time.

He spotted a few gray hairs in Tony’s normally black ones.

Ah, the perks of being a dad.

~~~~~

Tag List: @imissyoutoo @aj-that-person @tonystark-deserves-better @nathaly-ab @skeeter-110 @peter-and-tony-vlogs @teammightypen @joyful-soul-collector @loveliestdisappointment @depuella @scwene-qween @pixiethefirecat7 @spider-man-lover @bringitonvoldie @memilon @queen-of-sarcasm-25 @roxy3457 @iron-loyalty @gralaca

If anyone wants to be added/ removed let me know!

~~~~~

/DO NOT TAG OR REBLOG AS ST*RKER/

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carelessannie · 4 years ago

Text

maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 7)

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory

Word count: 5.7K

Pack focus. This means Clint x Peter x Annie (OFC), Clint x Steve, Steve x Peter, Bucky x OFC, and Steve x Tony x Bucky x Clint x Annie x Peter (wow)

It all goes to hell, because, of course it does. But it’s exciting to fix it, because everyone is falling in love.

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, subdrop, almost a fight bc Clint is aggressive

---

maybe it goes like this:

“So… have you heard from him yet?”

Annie sighs, rolling her eyes, and refrains from shaking the precious Omega standing behind her,

“Not in the past three minutes, Peter.”

“Sorry, I just—”

“I know, you’re nervous,” she tries to drop the tone, squinting in the bathroom mirror to finish her eyeliner, “why don’t you just call him? Or your boyfriend?”

In the reflection, Peter pouts, crossing his arms, “I tried, but both went to voicemail. He should have been done by now.”

Annie takes care to sweep perfectly symmetrical wings across each upper lid, before exchanging her eyeliner for a brighter tube of mascara. It’s taking a lot of effort to ignore Peter as he stresses over their evening, but no one has ever called her a quitter.

Peter continues his spiral in her silence, “What if they got into a fight? Could he be dead— is there a chance Steve killed him? Or what if he dropped again, and there’s no one there to help him? What if they’re in the hospital—”

Enough.

“Peter, stop it,” Annie finally turns away from the mirror and grabs Peter by his shoulders, “if any of those things happened, one of their packmates would have called by now. I know we have to leave soon, but there’s really nothing we can do, okay?”

Peter’s eyes tear up a bit and he sniffles, looking down at his outfit, which currently is one of Clint’s shirts and a pair of leggings, “Annie, I’m not— I’m not even dressed yet.”

“Let me help you, okay Pete?” she steers him out of the bathroom and towards their wardrobe, picking up her phone to try calling again as they sort through possible outfit choices for Peter.

The phone rings— once, twice, three times— before,

“Yello.”

“Clint Barton! Do you know how many times we’ve tried calling—”

“Annie! Holy shit, Annie— is Peter there? Do you have me on speaker?”

She shakes her head in disbelief while pressing the speaker button, making sure Peter can hear too.

“Is that Clint?” Peter asks, pointing at the phone. Annie nods, and Peter gasps, “You asshole! I tried to call you so many times, where on earth have you been?”

“I’m so sorry, Omega, honestly— the conversation with Steve went longer than I expected and I’m driving back now. But please, I have to tell you— I’m compatible with him!”

Both Omegas exchange a look, clearly confused and doubtful of their Beta.

“What does that mean, Clint?”

“It means I’ve got a chance. I thought I’d hate him, or be forced to put up with him for your sake. But, honestly… he’s pretty amazing. I can tell he cares a whole freaking lot about his pack and I think he’s in this for real.”

Peter reaches out to grab her hand, and Annie can’t help but smile back.

“Did you tell him your history?” Annie prompts, pulling Peter next to her so that they can sit close together on the floor.

She can almost hear Clint waving his hands around, animated in his response. “Yeah, I shared most of it with him and it made him cry, honest to god. I also told him he could catch his mates up to speed—”

“— oh my god, did you see Tony?” Peter cuts in, eyes lighting up as he wrings his tiny hands together nervously.

“Yes, needy Omega, I saw Tony. I gave him the flowers, and we had a little heart to heart, too. Real sexy, you know—”

“Shut up, Clint!” Peter squeals as Annie breaks down into helpless giggles at seeing his face light up pink, “does that mean you talked to all three of them, then?”

A small pause, “... no, actually that was kind of awkward. They said that… it seemed like… they had just finished a scene together when I showed up.”

“Oh, shit.” Annie breaths.

“Yeah, Tony definitely didn’t know I was coming,”

Peter covers his mouth, eyes going wide, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I literally can’t believe I forgot to tell him. That sounds so horrible, C!”

There’s a chuckle on the other end, “Don’t worry, Petey, no harm done. I’ll be home soon, and we can head back out there, okay?”

Annie gives Peter a small kiss on the cheek before standing, grabbing her phone, saying, “sounds good, see ya Clint,” and hanging up without another word.

She spins, taking in Peter’s lost expression and the clothing scattered around their closet.

Okay. Motivation.

Peter yelps as Annie hauls him up by his armpits, “Time to get ready, Peter. C’mon— you are gonna look absolutely stunning tonight.”

Finally Peter’s expression melts and a genuine smile breaks out over his face. He pulls Annie closer, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips— careful to avoid messing up her lip gloss.

“I adore you, Annie,” he whispers, “— these boys are not gonna know what hit ‘em.”

She reaches up to twist one of his curls playfully before returning a smirk,

“You’re damn right.”

---

“I don’t see why I have to be in the backseat. I clearly called shotgun.”

Clint has been whining ever since they left their apartment, insisting that he was severely wronged by his insolent Omegas. Both of those Omegas are having fun ignoring him— turning up their music and talking louder to drown out his voice.

It took a half hour for Clint to get home after his call, and by some miracle, all three of them were dressed and ready to go with time to spare. Annie had spent time curling Peter’s hair into perfect ringlets before finishing his makeup with sparkly-pink eyeshadow and gloss. Both of them were ready and dressed before Clint got home, and had pushed and prodded the bewildered Beta into a nicer button up with dark jeans and combat boots.

Annie is proud of her and Peter’s outfits, of course. Not many Omegas can pull off pink like they can, and her powdered pink coat goes flawlessly with Peter’s pink polka dot button up. But even more than their outfits, she is proud of how put together their chaotic Beta looks.

After catching Peter glancing back in the rearview mirror for the third time, she decides to say something.

She turns down the music, “You look like a snack, Clint.”

Peter snickers as Clint looks down at himself in bewilderment, “I swear, I’ve never seen these clothes before in my entire life. But, thanks. I guess.”

Since Peter insisted on driving, he can only glance quickly to try and gauge Clint’s expression.

“Those boots are yours,” Peter says.

“Yeah, but when did you guys even have time to buy me clothes?” Clint’s back to complaining, and grumbles sneaky Omegas under his breath.

Annie turns, lightly slapping the inside of Clint’s thigh where he’s sprawled across the backseat, “Hush and take a compliment, Beta. I think I speak for both of us when I say we want to climb you like a tree.”

Peter gasps, swatting at her with one hand, as Clint’s eyes go wide.

She continues, “I mean, it has been awhile since we’ve had a scene, and the mention of Tony’s pack has me—”

Clint leans forward, posture straightening as he grabs her chin to silence her, “— you feeling horny, Omega?” he purrs, a feral grin taking over his face.

“M— maybe.”

“Have I not been taking care of you, Annie?” he moves closer, and forces Annie to turn almost completely in her seat.

“... Clint.”

He grips harder, “Try again.”

“Fuck, Beta. Please.”

“— guys, can this wait—” Peter tries to interrupt, but is quickly shut down by Clint growling, low.

“Sweet Omegas, is that why you dressed me up? Feeling all needy and shit?” he releases his hold on Annie’s chin and moves back to his seat, relaxing again before letting out a sigh, “but you’re right, Pete. This can wait.”

The silence is charged. Both Omegas wiggling in their seats in response to Clint’s dominant display, and Annie whimpers— a small sound that causes Peter’s breath to catch in his throat.

“Aw, Annie. No— come here,” Clint leans forward again, and as she turns he catches her lips in a lingering kiss, licking into her mouth quickly and coaxing a grin out of her.

“Don’t want you to drop, gorgeous. You know I’ll take care of you both, right? Love you so much.”

She pecks him on the lips, satisfied to see some of her pink lip gloss stain his mouth, “Love you, Clint. And you do look amazing tonight.”

“Thanks, pretty Omega,” even though it’s dark in the car, she can tell he’s blushing by the way he ducks his head bashfully.

Annie turns back to face front and catches the slight pout on Peter’s face. She crosses the center console to kiss behind his ear, and enjoys the surprised squawk from the younger Omega.

“Annie! I’m driving!”

Clint laughs, and reaches forward to rub Peter’s shoulder, “We love you too, Petey-pie.”

“Shut up.”

Both of them crack up as Peter shakes himself free. Annie intertwines their fingers and Clint settles back into his seat, quietly staring out the window at the oncoming traffic. She feels a small squeeze and looks up, exchanging a reassuring smile with Peter.

The rest of their drive passes in relative silence, and soon they are pulling up a long, winding driveway into what Annie would swear is a rainforest jungle.

As Peter navigates around the property, he explains, “Tony said that he bought this land right after Steve and Bucky courted him. A lot of it is a nature preserve, and it backs right to the Jamaica Bay. I know all of them wanted to stay in Brooklyn, but Tony absolutely refused to live near anyone, so they built this house together with the hope of living here with their future pack.”

Both Annie and Clint are glued to the window. They watch as the looming trees suddenly part, revealing a modern, sharply-angled, and breathtakingly enormous house. There are at least three stories, and the whole structure seems to be built into the surrounding forest, with a noticeable extension out into the bay.

“Peter,” Annie breathes out, still stunned speechless.

“I know, that’s how I felt earlier.” Clint replies, still looking out at the quickly approaching home.

Peter hums quietly, but Annie can see him shaking slightly. As they pull up and he parks the car, she gives his knuckles a kiss, “Peter?”

He turns and she catches a NervousDistress scent radiating off of him.

That’s not good.

With a quick look to Clint, they both jump out of the car, rounding the side to Peter’s door, and pull the startled Omega out of the driver’s seat.

“What are you— hey!”

“Come here, nervous Omega, and let us hug you,” Clint pulls Peter in, wrapping him in his arms, as Annie turns the car off. She joins the group hug and lets Clint wrap his arms around both of them.

After a few moments, Clint pulls back, gently scenting both of them for any lingering distress. Instead, he groans, “Damn, you two smell like fuckin’ ice cream. So sweet.”

Peter giggles and Annie leans up for a kiss— earning one from Clint first, then Peter.

“Feel better, Peter?” Annie asks, pulling away to look at his face.

He shrugs, “Yes, I just need to trust Tony to do his part, and… I think I’m just really excited to see him again,” he ducks his head, and Clint places another kiss on top.

“Let’s go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Ew, Clint, stop.” Both Omegas complain as Clint tows them towards the entrance, knocking firmly on the door.

They are still arguing about the merits of cheesy nicknames, when the door swings open.

“Tony!” Peter shrieks, throwing himself forward and into the larger man’s arms.

“Hi, baby,” Tony coos, picking his Omega up and spinning them around, “you look so pretty, Pete. You all do, honestly. Such a pretty pack.”

“Thanks Beta,” Peter stretches up to give him a peck on the cheek, and then freezes.

“Peter? What—” Tony puts him down, and Annie watches as two figures approach them in the hallway.

She hears Clint growl behind her, and immediately her eyes turn to Peter. She can only see the side of his face, but his eyes are wide, pupils dilated, and he sucks in a quick breath.

“A— alpha,” he moans, swaying on his feet.

The larger man— Steve, probably— steps out of the shadow and pushes Tony to the side, looming over Peter and reaching to grab his neck.

There’s an echo of growls, one behind and one ahead, before Peter collapses to his knees.

“Fuck no!”

Clint reacts suddenly, pushing Annie behind him. He jumps forward and aims a blow towards Steve, who’s still looking down at Peter, eyes glowing red. Before the hit can land, both Tony and Bucky step forward, blocking the attack on their Alpha and tearing Clint away.

Tony grabs Peter, pulling him to his feet, and pushes him into Annie’s arms.

“Down the hall, to the right. Settle him in the living room and we’ll handle this, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before grabbing Clint and dragging him back outside, hopefully to calm down. Annie struggles to carry the larger Omega down the hall, and thankfully neither Steve nor Bucky are anywhere to be found.

When they finally reach the living room, she drops Peter in a large nesting chair towards the corner and searches for blankets. After finding a few, she wraps him in them and climbs into the nest, throwing the others over top of them to enclose the space.

“Petey?”

No response. Shit.

She moves them so he’s facing her fully, and tries to shake him awake. It seems like whatever happened actually knocked him out, and she checks his eyes, his breathing, before holding him close.

“Petey, you have to wake up for me.”

It’s hard not lacing her words with a dominant tone, but the direct order seems to reach him and Peter’s breath picks up.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart, c’mon.”

His eyes blink open wide and he looks around frantically.

“— Alpha?” he whimpers.

“No, Peter. It’s me. Tell me what you need, Pete.”

He focuses on her then, lips opening and closing before he’s able to speak, “Need’ta come up, Omega. Please.”

Annie strokes over his brow, “Okay, Pete. I’ve got you.”

She uses one hand to block his eyes and the other to peel back the blankets, looking around for someone to help, and sees Bucky in the kitchen.

“Bucky, help,” she whispers, hoping the other Omega can hear her across the room.

His head shoots up as he takes in the situation, and he swiftly walks over. He looks into her eyes, sees her hold on Peter, and drops to his knees next to the nest,

“What do you need, Omega?”

She has to stop herself from reaching out to touch him, and instead keeps her eyes on Peter, “Please tell me you have apples, bananas and carrots? Or crackers?”

“I do— do you want them sliced, Omega?”

“Yes, thank you,” she agrees, turning back to Peter as Bucky hurries back into the kitchen. She cradles his head, keeping one hand over his eyes to block them from the light, and lets him curl in closer to her as he floats.

“Sweet Omega,” she whispers, pulling him closer, “so good for me. So good, Peter.”

“Here,” Bucky says gently, and offers her a plate with slices of each food. He also hands her a bottle of water.

“Thanks, Bucky. Can you dim the lights? Maybe light candles if you have them?”

“Of course.”

He walks away to lower the lights, and Annie finally takes her hand off of Peter’s eyes. He blinks up at her, adorably confused, and gives her a small smile.

“Apple, Peter,” she says, pressing the apple slice up against his lips. He takes a small bite and she watches as he chews and swallows before offering another.

Once the apple is gone, she holds up the next fruit, “Banana.”

He takes the softer fruit in one bite, and Annie notices his eyes clearing up and he tightens his grip on her arm.

“Last one, Peter. Can you tell me what it is?”

“Carrot, Annie,” he says, smooth and steady, chewing the carrot slice while maintaining eye contact.

After he swallows, she hands him the bottle of water. He drinks it slowly, taking in the room and turns his gaze back to her.

“What— what happened?”

Bucky comes back over to them and looks to Annie for direction. She motions for him to join them in the nest, and they both move over as Bucky climbs in, pulling the other Omegas to nestle into his side.

“What do you remember, Peter?” Annie asks, reaching over to hold his hand on top of Bucky’s chest.

“I… I’m not sure. I remember being in Tony’s arms, and then— did I meet Steve? And someone attacked him? I don’t know Annie, I just remember floating and then coming back up.”

Bucky makes a pained noise, “Stevie reacted to Clint’s challenge, an’ his display caused you’ta drop.”

“Display, what—”

Annie sighs, “Basically, Clint saw you react to the new Alpha. His hindbrain registered that as a threat, and he growled— challenging Steve. I think Steve must have released some type of Alpha pheromones, because my mind went hazy too. After that, both of them were growling and you kneeled for him.”

“For— Steve?”

“Yeah, Pete. He pushed Tony away to get to you and Clint attacked him. That’s when Bucky and Tony took control and split everyone up. Nothing happened to you— to anyone, okay?”

Peter still looks devastated and pulls his hand away, sitting up in the nest, “I can’t believe. I just— submitted like that. I didn’t even do that with Tony, but with a random Alpha—”

“Peter, hey,” Bucky grabs his hand, trying to calm him down, “it’s instincts, darlin’. Steve is really dominant, and in this setting— with everyone on edge and feelin’ horny and stuff— honestly… I’m a little pissed we didn’t plan better. Especially after Clint came by earlier.”

Annie sits up then, drawing Peter closer to her to sit across Bucky’s lap, “He’s right, Pete, none of us have ever dealt with a Dominant Alpha meeting a Submissive Omega before. There’s no way we could have anticipated how Clint was gonna react.”

They sit for a few more minutes before Bucky stands up, “I’m gonna check on Tony and Clint— I think I have a plan for tonight.”

It’s a few more minutes that the two Omegas can sit in silence, eventually moving from the nesting chair over to the couch and preening each others’ hair and makeup. There’s a sound from down the main hallway, and a figure comes barreling towards them.

Annie throws her arm over Peter and yells, “Hey!” to get the person— Clint, it’s freaking Clint— to stop. He falls to his knees, only a foot or two away from them, and crawls the rest of the distance.

“Petey, I’m so sorry. Sweet Omega, I had no idea— I didn’t mean— I’m so so sorry, oh my god, I completely freaked out and ruined your night, please—”

“Beta, come here,” Peter opens up his arms, and Clint falls into them, clawing at Peter’s back and scenting him thoroughly, “it’s okay, C, I understand. I forgive you.”

Annie looks up to find Bucky and Tony standing, bewildered, in the entrance for the living room. She gestures towards the couch next to them, a clear invitation to take a seat, and Tony quickly moves to sit next to Peter and pull him into a hug after Clint releases him.

“So— Annie, Peter,” Bucky starts, shifting on his feet, “I have an idea, and our Betas have agreed to it.”

“What is it, Bucky?” Peter asks, surrounded now by both Tony and Clint, and looking beyond satisfied.

Bucky looks off, down the hallway behind the kitchen, “I think we should go to my nest. The— the three of us. Omegas, I mean. And meet Stevie there.”

“But… why?”

“It’s neutral,” Tony chimes in, “and Peter needs to meet Steve somewhere safe. Bucky’s the only one who can really bring the dumb Alpha out of his head— so the nest seems like the best idea. And a balance of chaperones that are all Omega should help ground everyone present. It’s a good idea.”

Annie stands up, crossing her arms, and looks at the two Betas, “You’re serious? You’re both completely okay with this, and anything that could happen in that room?”

Tony nods, but it’s really Clint’s reaction that she’s waiting for. The Beta also agrees, nodding slowly, “I told you I would try.”

Peter gets to his feet, wiping off his pants, and offers his hand to Annie. He then walks towards Bucky and offers a second hand, “Lead the way, Omega,” he says, grinning at them both.

Bucky gives a tug, and pulls them down the hallway. They pass the kitchen, a few other rooms that are all closed, and turn a corner. On the right side is a set of french doors with curtains— bedroom?— and the left—

“Holy shit.”

“Oh my god.”

Bucky steps away from them to gesture to his nest, the large fixture taking up the majority of the space in a room that could have otherwise been a large library. Or a sunroom.

Two of the walls are windows— they stretch from floor to ceiling and meet at the arched apex of the ceiling where a large, twinkling chandelier cascades down, filling the room with warm light and extending over the white canopy that dominates the center of the space. Twinkle lights surround and flow around the nest— dropping over and under the structure— and a few smaller lamps sit strategically both outside and inside.

The nest itself seems to be slightly elevated— giving the illusion of floating in the center of the room on a simple wooden palette. There are vines and ferns sprinkled around the base, and Annie can see the legs of at least one table that reach underneath the canopy. It’s a cloud. It’s a dream.

There’s definitely someone inside.

“Bucky, this is… amazing.” Annie is still frozen with Peter in a similar state beside her.

“C’mon,” Bucky finally reaches back and snaps his fingers, breaking them out of their trance. He grabs Peter first, kneeling up on the entrance to push back the curtain and let Peter in. Annie ducks down, following Peter through the opening.

Okay, the meeting in the hallway earlier did nothing to prepare her for the giant, hulking Alpha in Bucky’s nest. Even with his head down and neck exposed, Steve is a sight to behold, and by far the most dominant Alpha that Annie has been around in her entire life.

Strong hands grab her from behind, and Bucky settles both of them near the entrance to watch.

Steve has his eyes down still, throat exposed, as Peter inches forward. They all freeze as his scent changes to CuriousInnocentDistressedOmega, and finally Steve looks up.

The sound that comes from Peter is not quite a whimper. He turns his head to the side and makes it again.

An invitation.

Steve moves immediately and folds Peter into his arms. He makes a low reassuring noise, and Peter just melts, a high pitch chirp leaving his lips before his body goes limp. Steve has a tight hold on him, and turns their bodies to settle the tiny Omega underneath him. Almost in sync, they bare their throats and scent each other.

Annie scoots closer to Bucky, letting him wind his arms around her as she rests between his legs, against his chest. He stretches his legs out, and she turns slightly to add her legs to the tangle.

There’s a small sniffling noise, and both Omegas look up. Steve is still holding Peter close— but now they’re eye to eye, and Peter is crying. Annie immediately sits up to separate them, but Bucky holds her back, whispering for her to wait.

They watch as the Alpha and Omega cry together, sharing comfort and tears, as they continue to scent-mark each other.

“Is it uncomfortable to watch your Alpha connect with another Omega like this?” Annie whispers.

Bucky, still behind her, just draws aimless circles on her arm as he responds, “We talked ‘bout it. Doesn’t feel weird— just feels right, ya know?”

She nods, “It definitely looks right.”

And it does. Annie thinks about her mom and dad— how many times she’s envied their bond and the love that they share. Even then, they are a VersAlpha and VersOmega couple and they’ve never been able to build the pack that they want, even though their relationship has been full of love and their pack is strong.

With Steve and Peter… it feels like watching a King and his Queen. It feels like the ocean meeting the shore, like stars in the sky, like pen on paper. The perfect balance, opposites fated by biology, Alpha and Omega.

It feels right.

Annie is crying now, and notices it when Bucky reaches up to wipe one of her tears away. She leans into him, moving her hair and exposing her neck for him to scent. He intertwines their fingers around her waist and she can feel his nose, his mouth, pressed against her sensitive bonding glands.

In an uncharacteristically dominant move, Bucky lifts one of his own wrists for her to scent. She pulls it closer and sniffles at his pulse point, enjoying his warm Milk Chocolate and sweet Orange scent.

“Oranges and Strawberries,” he breathes, tickling her neck.

“Chocolate and Caramel,” she takes one more inhale before turning in his arms, letting the other Omega stare into her eyes.

She licks her lips, “I’ve missed your scent. I can’t believe how compatible… I mean, you know— how good—”

Bucky chuckles, playing with a piece of her hair, “I can’t believe how compatible we are either, darlin’.”

Damn, he’s sweet. Annie can feel her face heat up, but she’s helpless to look into his eyes, steel-blue and darkening by the second. He’s holding her so close, and he’s so warm. She closes her eyes, letting a quiet purr build from deep in her chest.

There’s a soft press on her lips, and she gasps, fluttering her eyes open to see Bucky pulling away from her face with a shy smile.

“Sorry, sorry, I thought—”

“— why’d you stop?” Annie asks, returning his smile.

This time she sits up, pushing into his space, and locks their lips together. His hands clutch tighter around her waist as he tilts her head back, deepening the kiss. His lips move slowly, sweetly, and she keens into the feeling, opening her mouth a little more, inviting him to take.

Instead, he slows the kisses down further, releasing her waist and brushing his fingers over her eyelids, her cheek, and she rests her hands on his chest. He pulls back after one last kiss, lips red and bruised, and a smile lights up his face. She hums her approval, sure her face looks similar, and moves one hand to brush back the hair off his forehead.

“Wow.”

The voice breaks the spell— Peter and Steve are staring at them, mouths agape. Annie pushes Bucky away and he laughs, trying to catch her around the waist before she can escape. Peter giggles, still so cute and tiny in Steve’s monster arms, and Steve can’t help but laugh along.

Okay, so maybe making out in the nest wasn’t a great idea.

She looks back at Bucky— head thrown back in laughter and eyes bright with joy— and honestly she doesn’t care. She feels her heart soften, almost literally, and pulls him in for one more kiss— ignoring the protests coming from the back of the nest. Bucky’s lips taste like heaven.

Once they break apart, Peter crawls over, nudging her to change places with him.

“Real quick, Annie. You haven’t even met him yet.”

“Okay, okay— pushy Omega.”

Peter immediately snuggles into Bucky’s arms, and the two turn to watch as Annie shuffles over to where Steve is still seated.

He gives her a hesitant smile, and offers his hand, “Hi Annie, I’m Steve.”

She looks down at the professional handshake he’s trying to give her and back up to him in disbelief. Boys are idiots. Shaking her head, she crawls the last few inches and sits squarely in his lap, offering her neck, “Hi Steve, I’m Annie,” and she guides his hand back around her waist and his nose into her throat.

There’s a moment where she can tell he takes over, and she lets herself relax in his strong grip. He nuzzles into her neck, scenting her deeply, and she slowly leans down to do the same.

Oh. Oh no.

“Oh, oh my god, Steve—” she mewls— yeah, fucking mewls— into his skin, and is horrified to feel his pulse under her tongue.

Annie, you are fucking licking this man. Get yourself together.

No. He tastes delicious.

And it’s true— Steve tastes like actual Summer Storms and strong, Espresso Lattes, and she cannot keep her mouth off of him.

The other two Omegas are chuckling from the other side of the nest, and she huffs in irritation, trying her absolute hardest to pull away from this Alpha’s body.

“S— sorry, fuck. I can’t believe. You’re just... you’re just so—” get it together, Annie.

“Hey,” Steve thrums, and she looks up into his deep, blue eyes, “I’m flattered— no harm done. For the record... I think you smell delicious, too,” and he winks at her, making a point to squeeze her tighter before they separate.

“Peeeete,” she whines, falling back to look at her packmate, “we’re marrying them, right?”

Peter giggles, “Seems like we might be.”

ProudSatisfiedContentAlpha absolutely saturates the nest, and all three Omegas turn to look, suddenly thirsty for Steve’s Coffee.

Bucky moves first, putting the smaller Omegas behind him and moving quickly to his Alpha. Annie watches as they share a quiet moment, before both men turn towards them with similar fond expressions.

“Sorry, uh— let's go see our Betas, okay?” Steve asks, ushering them back towards the entrance.

Annie and Peter stumble out of the nest, waiting to be led back to the living room. Bucky is careful to turn the lights out and straighten the nest, displaying the care and importance he obviously places in his home. Steve loops his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him in for a quick kiss, before giving him a playful shove to get them moving down the hallway.

It’s clear the Betas are laughing and enjoying each other’s company as they arrive, and Annie heads quickly to Clint’s side, ruffling his hair and accepting a kiss on the cheek. Steve sits in an unoccupied loveseat, but Bucky doesn’t go to join him. Instead, he and Peter exchange a few words and Bucky sits next to Tony, ducking under his arm.

The room is quiet— only a few whispers between Tony and Bucky— and Peter turns to settle onto Clint’s lap. Annie lets him go, watching as Peter scents— no, scent-marks— him thoroughly, rubbing the combined scent of Alpha and Omegas into his skin. Clint’s breathing picks up and he looks at Peter, confused.

“Omega, what—”

“Hush,” Peter grabs his face, whispering intensely, “you are going to ask that Alpha to scent you, and you’re gonna go sit on his lap. Don’t you dare come back to us until you smell like him, do you hear me?”

Clint looks properly chastised as Peter hops up off his lap, grabs Annie’s hand, and pulls them to sit with Bucky and Tony on the couch.

They watch Clint’s internal crisis as he walks over to Steve’s seat, obviously uncomfortable but oh so stubborn and determined.

He stops in front of Steve, who looks up in question, “Steve.”

“Clint.”

“I need… Can I— can I formally scent you?”

Steve actually looks shocked, “I… yeah, of course, Clint. Whatever you’d like.”

Clint looks back at them— Bucky flashing him two thumbs up— and steels himself, grabbing Steve’s shoulders before climbing onto his lap. Steve raises his hands, obviously not expecting the submissive posture, and looks to their couch for some direction.

Both Bucky and Tony give him a shrug. Helpful.

When Clint settles in, wiggling a few times, Steve bares his throat and lowers his eyes in submission. Every person in the room gasps, and Bucky might even let out a small, hysterical laugh.

Clint doesn’t say a thing. He leans in and gently presses his nose to Steve’s pulse point, audibly inhaling. His body visibly relaxes, and he pulls Steve in to scent him in return.

Annie settles back against Peter, letting the three men fold her into their embrace. The room feels light and heavy at the same time. All six packmates are relaxed— breathing in each others’ scents and eyes closed to the warmth of close bodies. The joy of shared kisses.

Behind her, there are soft sounds of kisses and whispered promises being exchanged. In front of her, her best friend and future Alpha are wrapped in an intimate embrace, crying and clutching at each others’ faces.

There’s a hand on her shoulder, and she turns to face Peter’s half-lidded, giddy expression,

“I love you so much, Annie.”

He leans down— kissing her head, her eyelids, and her nose— and holds her close as he presses a tender kiss onto her lips. Both of their eyes close, and they smile into each others’ mouths. Peter gives a small nip to her bottom lip as both of them break apart laughing.

They look up and see Steve and Clint, finally standing and making their way to the couch. Annie opens up her arms to catch Clint as he dives forward, and all of them groan as he gets comfortable in their arms.

Annie glances up, watching Steve. The Alpha looks so proud and happy— and even as Bucky and Tony start to whine about being hungry, it seems as though the only thing Steve wants is to make his pack happy.

And that’s something Annie can get on board with.

#starker #winteriron #winterspider #stucky #stony #spiderhawk #ofc #spidershield #steve rogers #tony stark #bucky barnes #peter parker #fluff #nesting #MiGLT #omegaverse

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muertawrites · 4 years ago

Text

Two Halves - Chapter Eight (Zuko x Reader)

Part Seven

Word Count: 3,000

Warning: This chapter gets violent - there are mentions of death and assault. I'll include a recap at the beginning of next week's chapter for those who choose not to read for the sake of their mental wellbeing. No harm done in not reading; I appreciate you taking care of yourself ♥

Author’s Note: .......... yeah idk what happened either. oops there’s actually a plot here lmao

~ Muerta

Your tour of the city the following day is rained out by mid-morning, leaving you cozily stranded at the Jasmine Dragon until the weather decides to clear. Iroh gives you a private room to relax in while you wait, coming by every hour or so with a new menu item for you to sample. Since the weather is quite chilly, he’s converted the table in the room into a kotatsu, which you’re curled up under with Toph leaned comfortably against your shoulder. From where you sit, you have a perfect view of not only the street from the room’s window, but the rest of the tea shop, your gaze shifting between watching passerby avoiding the downpour outside and customers milling about inside, smiling to yourself each time you catch a glimpse of Zuko darting between tables; He insisted on working the rush that day, all of you changing out of your ceremonial robes and into something more low key so as not to attract attention.

Regular customers are happy to see Zuko, greeting him excitedly and asking how his “travels” have been; he nods over to you a few times while speaking, multiple people coming up to meet and congratulate you. Toph smirks at you, teasingly nudging your arm.

“I think you’re more popular as Lee from the tea shop’s wife than you are as Firelady,” she observes. “Not one person who’s come over here has said anything about the royalty sitting next to us.”

Kuei looks up from his reading, shrugging his shoulders as Bosco - whose head rests lazily in the king’s lap - lets out a grumbling yawn.

“I’m not meant to be noticed,” he states. “Besides, I come here all the time; regulars are used to seeing me here.”

“Are they also used to your guards taking up every table within twenty feet of you?” you joke. You’re only half kidding - plainclothes guards are stationed at three tables beside the room’s open door, all tensing up and ready to pounce every time anyone who isn’t Iroh or Zuko approaches.

Kuei grins sheepishly at you, offering another shrug.

“Not all of us are warriors,” he excuses.

“We need to teach you to fight,” Toph comments. “Having a scrawny Earth King is embarrassing.”

Before Kuei can retort, Zuko appears at the threshold, sliding the door shut behind him with urgency. Kuei stands immediately, instantly alert.

“The Dai Li were just spotted in the refugee district,” Zuko announces. “A customer told me they're staging some kind of protest.”

“Does it really count as a protest if they're facists?” Toph mutters. “Seems like the kind of thing they'd be opposed to.”

“A protest against what?” Kuei asks. “They don't typically operate so boldly.”

“I don't know,” Zuko answers, “but we should go there and stop it. They're too powerful for the regular guard to subdue.”

He turns to you, eyeing you sternly.

“Stay here,” he orders. “Toph and I will handle this.”

“Oh, the hell you will,” you quip, standing so abruptly that Toph tumbles over. “I've already told enough imperialist assholes that I don't answer to you - you shouldn't have to be one of them.”

Zuko shakes his head, ignoring your harsh comment.

“Darling, please, I'm not trying to boss you around,” he explains. “The Dai Li are dangerous and I want to keep you safe.”

“I'm not even safe in my own home, Zuko,” you counter. “We’re a team - we face danger together.”

You cross your arms, challenging Zuko with a determined, defiant glare. He sighs frustratedly, furrowing his brow but eventually giving in.

“Alright fine,” he caves. “We don't have time to argue. Let's go.”

You leave the Jasmine Dragon through a hidden panel in one of the private room’s walls, installed for just such occasions when Kuei needs to make a hasty exit; his guards are already assembled on the street, perched on ostrich horses with two steeds empty for the Firelord and king.

As Kuei mounts, you help Toph onto the back of his saddle, where she takes hold of your forearm and pulls you close so she can whisper in your ear.

“Did Sparky call you ‘darling' just now?” she marvels.

You blush, realizing that yes, he most definitely did.

“I think so,” you mumble in response.

Zuko calls for you and you part from her, noting the smirk that spreads across her features. You climb into the saddle behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist as he digs a heel into the ostrich horse’s side, sending you speeding through the streets of Ba Sing Se; you hardly feel the rain biting at your cheeks and hands against the firmness of his back.

The refugee district scatters in chaos, people scampering like ants separated from their colony as they attempt to flee the terror the Dai Li have inflicted.

Agents prowl up and down the streets, raiding homes and businesses seemingly at random and interrogating their owners, many of them beaten or bound in stone cuffs. You ride past an agent looming over a man and his young children, his hand raised to strike; as you pass, you pull Zuko’s sheathed katana from its slot in the saddle, holding it out so it hits the agent in the throat and topples him, incapacitated; the man wails, tears streaming down his face as he lifts his children and carries them away from the scene.

You arrive at the source of the bedlam, where the heads of the Dai Li have gathered in a market square and bark out commands, taking prisoners and making displays of their battered, comatose bodies. Zuko reins the ostrich horse to a halt, leaping off before fully coming to a stop and removing his dual swords from the horse’s pack, strapping them onto his back. He hands you the reins, roughly taking your hands in his and leaning in close to you, shouting over the din.

“Can you ride?”

You nod as you settle yourself into the center of the saddle, squeezing his hands tightly.

“Go with Kuei and take out as many Dai Li as you can for the guard to arrest,” he tells you. “Toph and I will go for their leaders.”

He places both of his palms on either side of your face, bringing your head down so he can press his lips firmly against your forehead.

“Be careful,” he says in parting.

You kick into the ostrich horse’s side, turning back the direction you came and following Kuei through the streets, Zuko’s katana strapped at your hip.

Despite Toph’s teasing, Kuei is actually a skilled rider; though weaponless, he maneuvers his steed with ease, steering headlong into members of the Dai Li and trampling them, the beast lashing its long, razorlike talons until they fall unconscious. You ride close behind, sweeping the surrounding area whenever he overtakes a target and stunning anyone who tries to interfere, driving the edge of Zuko’s katana into their stomach or back; the only time you unsheath the blade is when you come upon an agent with a young girl pinned beneath him, her dress hiked above her hips and his body far too close to hers for your liking.

The image sends rage coursing like fire through your veins, and you remove the katana from its casing, riding up swiftly behind the man and drawing the blade across his neck, slitting his throat before he has a chance to react; his blood splatters across your legs and the face of the girl he attacked, causing her to shriek and crumple into tears. You reach down and lift her into the saddle behind you, riding her to the nearest area of relative safety you can find before returning to Kuei’s side.

“Is there anyone else?” you ask, looking around. Things seem to have calmed, the guard already arriving to take their prisoners and the citizens of the district starting to collect themselves, those not harrowed by shock either coming to the aid of their neighbors or starting to tidy the buildings that were raided.

Kuei shakes his head, panting heavily as he attempts to catch his breath.

“I passed the head of the guard a moment ago,” he tells you. “She said they have most of the situation under control - they're having trouble getting the leaders to surrender.”

“Let's go back,” you suggest. “We might be able to help.”

Kuei nods, trailing beside you as you gallop back to the market square, stumbling into a standoff between the Dai Li and the guard, Zuko and Toph in the middle of the fray - they have the leaders cornered, Toph having bent the earth around a few of them and Zuko with a flame ready in hand, one of his swords in the other. The scene is still but tense, and you sit with Zuko’s katana drawn.

“It’s your choice,” Zuko booms, approaching one of the captured Dai Li with predatory grace. “Either you come peacefully, or your entire troop will be killed.”

The bound man gives Zuko a wicked smirk, rolling his head to the side.

“Wouldn’t your father be proud,” he drones deeply. “His disgraced son, meddling where he doesn’t belong and threatening death when he can’t get his way - just like daddy. Even after you defeated him, you’re still seeking his approval, aren’t you Firelord Zuko?”

The man grunts as Toph’s fist closes, the rock around him compressing his chest.

“Watch it,” she snaps. “Zuko might be above squashing a slimy little roach like you, but I’m not - and he’s not the one who has you in a vice right now.”

“The Firelord is merely following Earth Kingdom law,” Kuei interjects. He rides into the center of the circle the guards and seized Dai Li have formed. “Dai Li have been considered highly dangerous by my guard since a child was found murdered in the catacombs under Lake Laogai preceding the end of the war; any members who resist arrest are sentenced to death once taken into custody. It’s your choice - be found responsible for the death of your men, or let them face fair trial.”

You don’t hear the man answer. One of the apprehended Dai Li nearby takes hold of the knife from the belt strap of the guard who holds him, stabbing her in the stomach to free himself; he makes a beeline for you, shoving his shoulder into your ostrich horse’s side and knocking you out of the saddle, sending you to the ground at his feet.

The Dai Li grips you by the hair, hoisting you up by the scalp and pressing his arm forcefully into your chest - the knife, still wet with blood, digs into your neck, so rigidly you feel a sting as its blade slices through the top layer of your skin. Zuko, who’d rushed forward the instant the man lashed out, pauses, his stature braced and eyes wide with terror. The Dai Li chuckles evilly, running a blood-soaked hand through your hair.

“Not so high and mighty now, are you Zuzu?” he mocks. “Let’s see if your no-killing rule applies when your pretty little plaything is up for grabs.”

“Don’t hurt her,” Zuko snarls. “You already face a death sentence just for touching her.”

“Then I might as well go out with a bang,” the Dai Li hisses.

You feel your skin start to split as the knife cuts deeper, and you squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for your lungs to fill with blood.

Before the worst can come, a metallic snap cuts through the strained silence, the arm flattened to your chest going slack as the man it belongs to slumps into a heap beside you.

You fall to your knees, limbs quivering as a quiet, heaving sob escapes your chest. Zuko sprints to your side, scooping you into his arms and immediately taking you away, carrying you into the back of one of the guard’s wagons and ordering to return to the palace.

“Kill them all,” you hear Kuei gravely command as the cart rolls away. “None of them can be trusted in trial.”

You don’t realize it until you arrive at the infirmary, but you’re soaked. Healers strip you of your wet clothes and assess you for injuries, finding only a small laceration on your neck from where the Dai Li threatened you. They clean the wound thoroughly, draping you in a large blanket and serving you sweet, calming tea, keeping you there for a few hours before allowing you to return to your suite.

Rain streaks down the sitting room window in sheets as you ghost through the threshold, thanking the healer who escorted you in a whisper as she assuringly touches your shoulder, then shuts the door behind you.

Zuko stands from his place by the pane when he hears your voice, swallowing heavily as he watches you enter.

“What happened?” you rasp, blinking drearily.

Zuko approaches you slowly, gingerly lowering you into the nearest chair.

“Toph snapped the knife and shot the tip through the Dai Li’s forehead,” Zuko recounts. His voice is dark, roughened with gravel. “They’re all dead. There are more still out there, but their numbers are significantly less after today.”

You nod, your gaze directed away from him, eyes unfocused as you stare into nothing.

“The guard who was stabbed is okay,” Zuko continues, taking one of your hands and clasping it between his own. “She apologizes for letting her duties slip.”

You shake your head, pressing your eyes tightly closed as you try to force the image of the day’s events from your mind.

“She has no need to apologize,” you murmur. “I’m okay; she’s the one who got hurt.”

Zuko sighs softly, reaching up to rest his hand on your cheek.

“This is why I wanted you to stay with Iroh,” he chides. “You’re not trained to defend yourself. It’s too dangerous for you to go everywhere with me.”

You pull your face away from him. From the corner of your eye, you shoot him a glare.

“Don’t scold me,” you mutter. “I defended myself well enough.”

Zuko retracts his hand, leaning away as if you struck him. He lets out a frustrated huff.

“Seriously?” he quips. “That’s all you have to say for yourself? You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“And so you could you,” you retort. “I’ve had a price on my head ever since I came to the Fire Nation; I don’t think I have to remind you that a man was murdered for the sake of making a threat towards us. Everyone’s after both of us, so we might as well stick together.”

“No,” Zuko snaps. “I won’t allow that. You’re my responsibility and I have to keep you safe.”

You jump to your feet, glowering down at him. He stands in return, taking a step back as your eyes meet his in a heated stare.

“You won’t allow that?” you challenge him. “What the fuck happened to treating me like an equal? You said in your damned wedding vows that you wanted to give me freedom. Did that only mean when it was convenient for you? You only want me as an ally when it looks good? Need I remind you that you were perfectly willing to let me ride out into battle when I was doing so under your command? You know that I’m capable of standing up for myself - I don’t need you playing savior whenever you think I can’t.”

“I’m not trying so suppress you,” Zuko counters. “I’m trying to make sure that the people who want us dead don’t actually achieve it. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you because you were following me. You need protection.”

“Zuko, I killed a man today.”

You make the statement plainly, in a deadpan, looking him directly in the eye. He pales, his face going completely ashen.

“What?”

“I killed someone today,” you repeat in a hiss. “Before today I’d never even held a weapon, let alone used one on another person; that didn’t stop me cutting a Dai Li’s neck open because he tried to rape a teenage girl in the street. I feel like a monster, Zuko, but don’t you dare tell me I need protection - what I need is your help. I don’t need a knight in shining armor. I need my husband.”

Zuko’s expression falls, your brows still arched together as you realize you’ve been shouting. You take a deep, shaky breath, crossing your arms and clutching the sleeves of your robe.

Zuko crosses the room to you, resting one of his hands behind your head; his other arm curls around your waist, pulling you in and pressing you flush against his chest.

You didn’t notice before, but your whole body is trembling, tears starting to pour down the sides of your face. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko breathes. “You’re right. We need to stick together. I just… I hate the idea of losing you. I… care… I care so much about you…”

You bury your face in his shoulder, your fingers knitting themselves into the fabric of his robe; the shock of the day finally hits you, and you feel as if you’ll crumble in his arms.

“I know,” you whimper. “I care about you, too.”

Zuko lifts you into his arms, cradling you like a child as he carries you into the bedroom. He lays down beside you, and for a while that could be minutes as much as it could be hours, he holds you, rocking you gently and rubbing your back as your body heaves with sobs, tears soaking your face the way the rain beats against the walls of your room. When you’re finally calm, he leaves only as long as it takes you to change into your night clothes, returning once you’re dressed and taking you into his arms again, comforting you as the sound of thunder trembles somewhere in the distance.

You fall asleep with your head on his chest, clutching him tightly through the night. You dream of nothing, and for that, you’re thankful.

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selfawarejester · 4 years ago

Text

triskele (j.t x c.h)

prologue (burn, baby, burn!) - cora

— Warnings: character death, vague descriptions of a corpse.

— Pairing: Jason Todd (DC Comics) x Cora Hale (Teen Wolf) [not in this part, can be read as standalone]

— Notes: Starting off the series with angst! This is promising. *evil smirk* Ah, yes, the Cora backstory and my interpretation of the Hale fire (because TW didn’t feel the need to elaborate on one of the most important, if not the most, events in the show.) Everyone who showed interest before is getting tagged below — hope you enjoy! I’m always open to feedback, so hit me up!

She remembers burning flesh most vividly.

Cora only left for an hour, going on a jog to cool off. Her mother had been furious about a fight she’d gotten in at school, but that guy was a jerk!

“He was picking on that asthmatic kid: McCall something! Did you really want me to just let that happen?” She yelled, stomping into the living room. The dark haired man on the couch eyed the two over the top of his newspaper before going back to it. Guess Uncle Peter’s not going to be of much help.

Talia sighed, doing that two-fingers-to-her-temple thing she hated. “Stopping a bully and tossing him into a locker are not the same thing.”

Cora frowns, crossing her arms as she drops her glare to the floor. “I only meant to shove him aside.” She bites out.

The front door slams, and a sullen teenage boy bearing an annoying resemblance to the woman in front of her walks in, freezing when his eyes fall on them.

“Is this about Cora beating up that 7th grader?” She squeezes her eyes shut as Talia groans, covering her eyes with both hands (and she swears she can hear Peter chortle) — there’s no way she’s getting out of this now.

“You heard about that too, cacchoro?” Talia asks, an equally exasperated and incredulous edge to her tone. Derek just chuckles, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“Oh no… I’m not getting caught in this. Besides, I have to meet up with the guys anyways.” He tosses his schoolbag on the couch, dangerously close to Peter – who hisses under his breath – and ignores the pointed looks his mother and sister send him. “See ya, mom! Good luck, Cor!”

“…stop snarling at me, Peter.” And walks out, slamming the door again.

She rolls her eyes — he’s absolutely useless, as usual.

“Mom-“ Talia interrupts her, holding up a hand.

“You’re grounded, mi corazón. End of discussion.”

“But I have soccer this weekend-!” Cora waves her arms, face burning but Talia just shushes her again.

“No arguments. Go to your room.” She growls, fuming as she stormed upstairs. And after waiting for all of three minutes, leaps out the window and running for the main road.

Run, run, keep running!

It feels good to stretch her legs, without having slow down for the human kids. It’s just her, the forest and the wind whipping her hair around. She keeps at it until her calves pleasantly sting and she’s panting.

Maybe I should get home — it’s getting pretty late, and mom is only going to get angrier then. It’ll be worse if dad gets there before me.

The route back to Hale House isn’t an actual path, per say, but every wolf in Beacon Hills knows it by heart. Of course they did: Talia Hale was the Alpha, after all. Any time one of the packs from out of town, they had to come and pay their respects to the leader. In its own way, it’s pretty beaten down — the kind of minor differences that only a wolf could discern.

“Burn, baby, burn!” She hears someone yell, laughing, and the sheer malice that accompany the words stop her in her tracks. Someone else nervously skitters about, and someone else has already started running away.

“M-miss, we need to leave.” She hears him speak softly – is someone… groaning in the background? — while the woman who was laughing slowly calms down to a few chuckles. Cora stumbles forward, carefully and quietly, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. “T-the police are probably on their way already.”

“Right, right, heh heh.” Finally, Cora can place that voice, the voice that would haunt her nightmares for years to come. Kate, that girl that used to hang out with Derek. Her blood runs cold in her veins as that smell fills her nostrils, and she has to clench her jaw to keep from her lips quivering, the sob from escaping as her imagination turns on her.

She almost trips and falls directly into the light when she makes it to the clearing she called home, feeling like someone punched a hole into her chest and squeezed as she watches the flames rage.

The other guy has fled, and now it’s just Kate and some hunters behind her, lounging against their cars, talking and laughing like they’re at a picnic, watching fireworks instead of her family burning.

She slaps her hand to her mouth, tears flooding from her eyes. Her legs shake, and all she wants to do is scream, to fall and cry for her mother, whose blackened body is in their main doorway, reaching outwards.

The pain and fear still hang in the air, even though her family is dead, mingling with her own. She thinks she can hear someone’s wretched heaving, but that might be just her. She can’t feel anyone, all of her pack bonds are shattered, what should she do, what should she do-?

“Hey!” Her heart stops and she scrambled away, feeling like her head was going to explode. “Did you see something there?”

Run, run, keep running!

Her lungs are about to tear apart as she sprints away at full speed, checking over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t chasing.

Coward. You’re leaving them behind, you left them alone, you should’ve been there-

You should’ve been with them.

She shakes her head, sobbing but never stopping. No, just keep running, get away, survive.

It’s an odd feeling, she’d notice later through the numbness of grief — in the guest room of her mother’s friend Satomi, who found her feral and out of her mind in the next town over and whisked her to safety, wherever — the feeling of letting go, of letting your humanity slip and your primal, base instincts take over. Satomi said it was natural for a wolf her age, especially after the trauma she’d faced.

Cora wasn’t particularly complaining. Those instincts were what allowed her to survive for a week in the wild, scavenging, hunting, escaping. Still, she couldn’t get rid of that little voice in her head, relatively quiet compared to the screaming loss inside but consistently agonizing, that insisted that she was only a coward who cared about her own skin, a coward that left her family when they needed her most.

A coward who had a fight with her mom. Who didn’t even bother to say goodbye to her father that morning. Who was fighting with Laura over a board game instead of telling her she’d miss her when she went back to college. Who, in her last time at home, wrote a note to Derek to inform him she was going for a run that addressed him as “Jerkwad.”

She presses the pillow to her face and wails.

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#cora hale #teen wolf #hale fire #peter hale #derek hale #talia hale #laura hale #papa hale #gabiwrites #jason todd x cora hale #jayra #don’t worry our boy Jason’s getting his own bout of angst next #would a Jason Todd fic be a Jason Todd fic without getting into his traumatizing death at the hands of a psycho clown? No #no it would not #i’ll make up for it later I promise

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mallorycastle · 4 years ago

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In her haste to reach the beach and the sweet escape she senses at hand, @tamyrawilliams finds herself snared in a net. Nearby, @no-gambit and Mallory respond to her calls for help, but like all things involving Mallory and Tamyra, it soon comes to sharp words.

After setting off the flares with Aurélie in hopes that the ship would see, Tamyra wanted to find some kind of higher ground to see when the rescue would come from the ship, she could know which part of the beach to run towards as fast as possible. SHe wasn't a good runner, but she would run as fast as she possibly could once she knew rescue was coming.

Going up the tree wasn't a problem, she got up relatively quickly, and when after about five minutes, she saw some kind of light flare up from the ship and keep up, she was certain it had to be the people on the ship signaling back. They took their time with it, but it only mattered that they acknowledged the flares and they were coming. They were coming.

She needed to get to the beach. Damn waiting for people coming, there was a sign, she needed to go.

Going down didn't go as planned, though, and Tamyra ended up slipping and falling - and it wasn't enough that she hit her shoulder, no, she also activated a fucking trap and the next thing she knew, she was hanging in a net, no idea how she got down. "Shit. Fuck. Who the hell--" but it didn't matter. Not now. Not now, when she was so close to getting out. Instead she started yelling, "HELP! SOMEBODY, PLEASE HELP!"

《❀》

Magnolia trailed Mallory close enough to see, at least, her vague shape in the gloom. She forced the wind to carry every minute sound to her down to their very breaths to compensate for the fog, to patch together the terrain. She was about to protest once more, to urge them to turn back towards the more populated areas because surely this was just another trick of the island, one meant to trap and to maim and haven’t they been hurt enough lately, when she heard it. A cry, familiar in cadence.

No grabbed Mallory’s wrist, already hauling her towards the plea. “Someone-“ she knew it was Tamyra, but she doubted Mallory would be so easy to pull forth if she knew-“Needs help. See? This is why we don’t fuck off into the island bullshit for no reason, Mal.”

Mallory can't help thinking this is the creepiest the island has been. Ghosts are one thing - she can pretend it's a hallucination, for one, but this impenetrable fog? She squints, hand flailing about in front of her. Her fingers brush against a tree in the same moment a scream, low and far, reaches her ears. "What the--" Her swear turns into a yelp as No touches her wrist. "Hey, we were doing fine, we used the buddy system. It's not my fault someone else didn't."

Despite her retort, she doesn't protest as No hauls her towards the noise. "Weren't you hear for the ghosts? Isn't running towards screaming a bad thing?" she murmurs, gaze darting around. They aren't quite in the jungle, or she doesn't think so at least. Mallory swishes water around in front of them, hoping to clear the fog, but it does nothing. So much for finding this quick and easy. "Ugh. Okay, fine. Hello? Who's out there?"

《❀》

Somebody was out there and listening, and Tamyra only cared about that. The voice that called back even sounded familiar and she didn't even think about who it was, didn't even occur to her that the person who was asking her who she was could have been Mallory, she was just happy to hear a familiar voice. "It's me," very telling, Tamyra, very telling. "I got caught in a net trap, please help me!"

She looked around, wondering if she could do anything to speed up the process of getting down, but she couldn't see anything, and figured that her best chance was making sure whoever was out there found her anyway. "Here! Come, follow my voice, it's Tamy--" No appeared among the mist and Tamyra breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god it's you, I was afraid that nobody was going to hear me and--" and then she noticed Mallory Castle and she stopped in the middle of her sentence. "What is she doing here?"

《❀》

Rumor had it that net traps had become the second most dangerous thing on the island, directly after human stupidity. No had to choke on a snort rather than let Tamyra hear her exasperated laugh, while resolutely ignoring Mal’s retort.

She slid her hand from Mal’s wrist to her hand as she ventured within sight of Tamyra, huffing in relief to find her relatively unharmed. “Tam, I heard you—“ she began only to roll her eyes. The dramatics between them were getting tiresome. “Being next to me, that’s what she’s doing, which is much more sensible than whatever you are doing.” Magnolia had left the machete that usually graced her hip behind that morning. Stupid, she thought as she fiddled with her belt, but she hadn’t exactly anticipated this. “We might have to actually untie you from the tree…” she mused, ready to act rather than dawdle.

《❀》

Someone cursed her. It's the only reasonable explanation for why Mallory is peering up at Tamyra, contemplating how to fetch her down from a net. She considers leaving her there, eyes narrowed, and it's only No's hand stilling her from the sharp retort. Instead, she says idly: "We followed the yellow brick road to see who was screaming at the end of it. We better watch out, a house will fall on our heads next. That's how the movie goes, right?" Her eyes flicker up, but it's just fog, fog, and more fog. No house in sight.

She shakes her head, mildly disappointed. "Ah, well, you're the boss, No. I guess I wouldn't want a cursed house." And letting Tamyra get squished by one is a surefire way to get a haunted house. Mallory wanders to the tree trunk, trying to figure out whether this is Luke's contraption or another person's. His, at least, she knows how to untie without too much fuss. "Hm, I think this is some castaways, I've certainly never seen this style before."

《❀》

"It's not like I wanted get trapped here! It's not like I saw the net trap and intentionally walked into it thinking, 'oh, how fun will it be to spend way too much time today wasting it in a net when we can get saved any moment now'," Tamyra rolled her eyes at No. Despite her annoyance, though, she was glad to see No there. At least she could trust her to make sure Mallory wasn't doing anything unacceptable.

She ignored Mallory's dig (wicked witch of the west? really?), but followed the woman with her eyes to make sure Mal wouldn't do anything to jeopardize her getting down from here. "No, please check the trap too, I don't want her to try to keep me up here. And really, if you can just cut me down, I'm good with that, too, I don't get if I get hurt or something. Just get me down as fast as you guys can so I can get back to the beach." She looked to her side - most of the beach was hidden behind the tree canopy at this point, but she still remembered the light. "Have you guys seen that light as well?"

《❀》

Magnolia sighed, pitying and worried. She knew already that Tamyra was likely amongst the most desperate at this moment, the most invested in this phantom ship being real. The island was just taunting them now with a treat on a stick, as it always had. “I care if you get hurt, and Mallory has it in hand. I’ll try to slow your descent so you don’t just crash.” To punctuate her plan, she pulled a stout updraft around them, rustling their hair. It could at least cushion her inevitable fall from the net.

“I have,” she said slowly. The light, the ship, the fog all spelled strife. “Mal have you? Tam, it’s just the island. Or it’s a ship that’ll never reach the shore, we’ve seen plenty of those." Perhaps leaving Tamyra in the net would honestly be safer for her. She wouldn't be amongst the fools trying to swim to the light. “It’s just a trick, you have to realize that by now.”

As Mallory inspected the knots, No looked to her. “I don’t have anything sharp on me. Can’t you untie it? We can try to find a rock to fray it apart.”

《❀》

Mallory huffs, crouching. She prods the knot for a loose edge, eyes rolling at Tamyra's worry. "I'm not going to leave you in the tree, you'd probably scream like a banshee until our ears bleed and I'm squeamish around blood. Or it'll scare the boat off before my brother is on." She can't have that, not until Harvey is on its deck. Then it can sail off into the sunset with no one else and she won't care.

Has she? She halts, frowning. "I think so. I try not to pay attention until its responding to us, or closer than this one. Seems a bit strange that we've got this fog and this ship, doesn't it?" She asks, skeptical. "I don't think it's real."

She lets out a noise of triumph as she finds the edge of the knot, pulling on it and letting the knot unravel. When she finishes unwinding it, Tamyra only lurches down a few inches. Her lips purse in annoyance. Her knot is gone, but another one is beneath it. "This was built to be annoying, wasn't it? Look, it's knotted in like four spots. Let's try a rock, this is going to take too long to untie. Or we can try to freeze it and hit it hard enough to break. Dunno if we'll find a sharp enough rock in this mess."

《❀》

No's reassurnce only worked slightly because it was coming from No, and Tamyra was sure she wouldn't let Mallory do anything unacceptable. "Screaming like a banshee around you might not even be a bad idea... Maybe you'd actually listen to that," Tamyra pondered. Their insistence on the ship not being real, though, that was confusing and annoying in that moment. Why did nobody believe it was real? That it could be and was real? "If you ask me, the fog is the island. It realized that ship penetrated its defenses and is about to get us out of here, so it's trying to stop it as much as it possibly can. Can't exactly throw ghosts at the ghost, right? It would just go right through. Hence the fog."

She let out a small shriek when the net lurched down a few inches and grabbed onto the net itself, but she was still hanging high and the rope was starting to hurt. "A little warning next time?!" she snapped towards Mallory before turning to No. "Please, look at what she's doing. Can't you see how reckless she is? Not even a word of warning, anything."

Tamyra tilted her head, squinted her eyes at the trap, but she couldn't see it properly from up here. "You could always try to steal a rock... Oh, sorry, you don't steal unimportant items like rocks, only shiny, pretty, important stuff, hmm?" She couldn't help the jab as she reached up to touch her necklace just for a moment. "I think freezing it is your best option. And possibly the fastest, I vote for that one."

《❀》

Magnolia shook her head throughout Tamyra’s musings. The ship could not be real, it had to be a phantasmic tease, a trick, a cruel torturous image meant solely to prey on people like Tamyra. “If the island wanted to stop that ship, it would have sunk it or sent a monster after it or any number of things. Fog is just fuck with us, just as that horn and the light and the ship is. Come on, Tam, you’re smarter then this.”

Her power surged as Tam dropped, but she let it flit away into the smog when nothing else happened. “You did ask to be let down as fast as possible,” No shot back. “Mallory is the reckless one? At least she’s not desperate to get fall into the island’s trap. I trust her and-“ Magnolia looked towards her, though the fog showed only her silhouette and said pointedly-“I trust her not to do anything stupid, right?”

No groaned and leaned back on her heels. She saw the necklace, and felt the barbed implication, but now was not the time. She poked Tam in the side through the netting. “For fuck’s sake, the both of you. Enough of your idiotic feud. Mal, I have a bottle of water, can you use it to freeze it?”

《❀》

Sympathy wells in Mallory against her will. For all her anger with Tamyra - and she has enough to fly off the island using steam power - she doesn't feel right ripping the rug out from underneath her. But then she remembers the last time she spoke and her sympathy fades. "Yes, yes, I won't do anything stupid. Scout's honor. And I was a scout, before you doubt me."

She glares at Tamyra. "At least rocks are most useful than pretty shiny--" Mallory stops, but only because No's frustration boils over. She huffs, but doesn't respond except to wiggle her fingers for the bottle. "How good are you at freezing things?" She asks Tamyra, upending the water over the vine and freezing it with a touch. "Need it to stay frozen until we hack through it, but I can't do both." Freezing isn't her strong suit, even if she can manage well enough if she concentrates. "No, maybe you should hit it. You have the arms for it - or the attunement if you're feeling fancy."

《❀》

No had good points, but Tamyra didn't want to hear them, didn't really want to listen enough to start thinking about it and let it all sink in. In her mind, everything she thought made sense and No was just being skeptical because she's given up so long ago. So she didn't say anything, just huffed out some air and kept looking at what Mallory was doing.

No's promise that Mallory wasn't going to do anything had more weight than Mallory's - really, if she was lying about the scout thing, she was still say she was, so that didn't reassure anything for Tamyra. She let out a yelp at No's poking, and she wanted to tell No that it wasn't actually an idiotic feud, but Mallory stopped dead in her sentence and damn if she was going to seem the childish one out of the two of them.

"If you freeze, and No hits, you two should be good to go, I can't really reach that rope from here," Tamyra said, even twisting her arms somewhat to show that it was at the wrong angle for her. In reality, she really wasn't good with freezing and had too much pride admitting it in the moment. "And if you keep holding onto the rop while you keep it frozen, you can hold it after it's broken and let me down a bit more gentle." Another horn came from the beach, and Tamyra closed her eyes, her heart beating fast. "Just please, guys, hurry, I want to-- we need to... Please."

《❀》

Magnolia narrowed her eyes between the two of them, armed with another reprimand if need be. It had been decades, they ought to have used the semblance of sense the both of them possessed to settle this years ago.

She handed the water to Mal without further comment before stooping and running her hands through the short grass and dirt until she found a sizable rock. “Okay,” she murmured, bouncing it in her hand until she gripped it well. “Mal, freeze when you can. Tam, get your head on straight.” She waited, poised to hit the knot.

《❀》

Mallory sighs. "I was really hoping you were someone who could freeze from a distance like Matthew or Prince Charming, but oh well. We all have our faults." Or many of them, as the case may be for some of them. She taps the water with her pinky, sliding it along the length of the rope with the edge of her finger, wary of being anywhere close to where No will hit it.

"This fog is... not helping with a talent I'm not so good at anyway, so try not to break any of my fingers. These are my money makers. But, go, hit it." And as the rock strikes, shattering the ice and the vine with it, Mallory lets out a shriek of surprise as the vines unwind with a whoosh. It unravels and unravels, the net flying towards the ground, and instinctively she grabs the nearest edge, yanking on the edges of it, heedless of the burn against her palms.

《❀》

Tamyra grabbed onto the net - as if that would actually save her or help her from the fall while she watched as Mallory froze the rope and then No broke it. She fully expected Mallory to hold onto the rop and keep her up and then slowly release down. Maybe release her fast from the last bit at the end, but not instead she could only feel the pull of gravity in her stomach and then she was falling down. She completely missed the part when Mallory tried to grab onto the rope and tried to hold her upright, she just registered the hit to the ground and she groaned, pain surging through her back.

"Shit," she groaned and remained there for several moments before she snapped. "Was that really necessary, Mallory? I know you hate me and want to fuck with me, but did you really have to just let me drop down like this when you could have just let me down easily?"

《❀》

Too intent with aiming and not accidentally hitting Mallory’s hands No could only conjure the slightest of winds to try and ease Tam’s descent and winced when she heard the thud. She saw the rope burns on the former’s hands before she heard the latter’s words.

Magnolia hissed, her patience expended. “Enough, Tamyra,” she growled low and furious and imposing through the gloom. “Both of you, enough. This is needless, idiotic bullshit. You two think this island needs help torturing you? You want to be the tools of this place now as well?” With gentle hands, if not gentle words, No reached for Mal, turning her hands over to fuss over them. “Use the rest of the water for that.”

Her capacity to tut like a mother hen went just as quickly as it came and she turned to haul Tamyra roughly to her feet. “Listen to me, I don’t give a shit about your resentment for each other or whatever relief you get for sticking and poking and provoking the other. You want the selfish reason I want you to stop, too? I love you both, you hurt each other you’re hurting me. Do you want that? Do you want to help the island fuck with me too?” She paused, letting it rest for only a moment and glancing between the two of them, helpless rage alight in her eyes. “Put your useless feud to fucking rest.”

《❀》

Mallory hisses, shaking out her hands and then cradling them. "Oh, go cry me a river, you're fine," she retorts. Then winces as No rounds on them with fiery eyes and equally sharp words. A retort comes to her lips, but No silences her when she grabs her hands. She winces again, but reaches for the rest of the water with little complaint.

"I don't know if it's that easy," Mallory mutters, dumping the water on her hands and holding it in place over her palms. It eases the burn some, but the mark will remain for a day or two longer unless she finds something more fresh. Her eyes land on Tamyra, the same bitter swirl residing there, and she wishes she could swallow it as easily as she once did. "You know I don't want to hurt you," and yet she doesn't know if she can do that. "But this--" she gestures between her and Tamyra, frowning, because looking at Tamyra invokes outrage and useless nostalgia. "I don't think this will change, even if you're the one asking me to let it go. How can I?" She doesn't meet No's eyes, rocking on her feet.

Her heart pounds, and she nods to herself once, before turning around, putting her back to them both. It's the best she can do. "It's best if we just don't interact. You don't fuck with me, I won't fuck with you, Tamyra."

《❀》

No was at her limits, apparently, because suddenly she snapped, telling both of them off (it was a bit of a satisfaction to Tamyra that she wasn't getting all of it, despite how Mallory kept trying to put all of this on her, as if all of this was her fault), but as much as Tamyra loved No, she couldn't agree with her. And she could definitely not just up and forgive Mallory for anything.

To be fair, Mallory did seem to try to catch the rope at least, based on how her hands looked, but Tamyra was too proud to admit that out loud, and she just let out a small huff when Mallory said that she didn't want to hurt her. As if she wasn't the one who crashed their plane. The only reason she didn't say it out loud was because No was there. So, in a way, she was helping, even if just momentarily, and on the surface level. (She was irrational, of course, but she didn't realize that.)

"For once, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but this once I do agree with Mallory. I don't think this will change. I can agree to staying out of your way, I'll be the happiest person if I don't have to deal with you," she addressed Mallory for this, "but that is it, No. And since we're getting out of here today, we won't have to deal with each other much longer anyway." Which only reminded her of what was still happening. "Thank you, for getting me down," maybe it was petty and childish, but she pointedly looked at No for those words, "but I'm going to the beach now to see if anything changed and if we could start boarding again."

《❀》

"I don't care how you feel right now, just stop feeding the island and being idiots," No snapped. This wasn't a battle she could win and wasn't a war that belonged to her. It was frustrating beyond all belief. Their delusions with each other and their delusions of escape. There was none, they were trapped beside each other whether they liked it or not. "Tamyra," she began, fierce and angry. "Do not do anything idiotic, it is a trick. Nothing more. It will be my turn to shout at you if you fall for it." Magnolia shook her head a final time, spared Mallory a glance to check her hands and gauge if she would follow, and turned to stride towards (hopefully) the populated beach.

#Tamyra #Magnolia #Tamyra 04 #Magnolia 03 #chapter three: the gloom #this was a ton of fun!! as usual Mal and Tam entertain me with their bickering #and it was interesting to have No along the way stuck between them

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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years ago

Text

Functional Dysfunction - Chapter 3 - Abortion Day - Rheese

written by @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, abortion, mention of vomit, stress, Daniel Charles is an ass, Connor is still dating Robyn just so you guys know

Avoiding Maggie and Manning was easier said than done. She was working in neuro, not the ED, but they still managed to corner her only forty-five minutes into her shift. She'd managed to escape by being called to do rounds but she knew she wouldn't be so lucky next time. She was trying to think of a game plan or an excuse, just something she could use when they hunted her down next time, but she was coming up empty. Manning had mother's intuition and Maggie is a living, breathing lie detector. So she was drowning herself in work, Dr. Abrams had just given her a bland stare when she was in his office that morning. "I'll give you the extra work because Anderson is out sick, but don't take this as an invitation to distract yourself because of your pregnancy." Sarah had only managed to make choking noises as she wished a hole would swallow her. "I'm a doctor, don't look so shocked. I will need to know what adjustments will need to be made to your schedule depending on your condition, but that can be handled at a later date. I will not tell anyone because I do not partake in hospital gossip, but I must ask that you refrain from talking about it excessively should you choose to share the news, this is a workplace."

"O-of course." So, now two people knew and neither of them was the father. But she was getting an abortion so what did it matter? Plus, Jimmy had gotten back together with Chilli for the... Third? Time... Honestly, she'd stopped keeping track because, to be frank, she wasn't a fan of gossip herself. So she was pushing everything but neurology to the back of her mind and focusing on her patients. It was actually helping, being methodical and relatively unemotional. She'd heard when she was a med student that Dr. Abrams was unnecessarily cruel but Sarah didn't believe that to be true at all. Sure he was cold and blunt, but in his field, there was even less room for error than there usually was when treating someone. Dousing bad odds in sugar wasn't going to make anything better and Sarah thought that his demeanour and the way he presented things actually made patients sober up and recognize just how serious he was being. And no, the man did not have a humble bone in his body, but everyone has flaws and considering how low his mortality rate is compared to other neurosurgeons, she considers it a flaw well-earned.

Sarah was doing the pre-ops for a patient who was going to have a sizable brain tumour removed, the tumour was actually in the best spot possible, you know, considering it's a brain tumour. She was going to be scrubbing in provided she completed the pre-ops to Dr. Abrams' expectations. "Reese."

"Ah!" She whirled around to see Manning standing behind her a pensive look on the older woman's face. "Dr. Manning, you snuck up behind me." She placed her hand over her chest in an attempt to slow her racing heart, not just from being startled, but because now might be time for the confrontation she'd been working so diligently to avoid. "How else was I supposed to talk to you? You've been avoiding Maggie and I."

"Not actively, I just have a lot of work to do. You know how much effort and time it takes to do a double specialty."

"Don't lie to me Reese, I know that something's wrong. We can help you, you just need to talk to us!"

"There is nothing wrong, though! I am fine, I just need you and Maggie to stop jumping down my throat."

"Wow, settle down, Sarah. You're not usually this irritable, so there definitely is something wrong."

"Dr. Manning I need my resident now, so if you could stop interrogating her in the hallway that would be wonderful."

"Bye Dr. Manning."

"Reese-" Sarah turned back to Natalie to give her a quick thumbs up and smile, something she hoped would reassure her, before continuing behind Dr. Abrams at a speedy pace. "How's our patient doing?"

"His labs are good, cell count normal, temp hasn't gone up, the scans were a little concerning though. The tumour has gotten bigger since the last scan. By half a millimetre." Dr. Abrams stopped walking abruptly, grabbed the scan from the still speed-walking Sarah, and studied it intently while Sarah nearly tripped over herself trying to stop. "You are correct. His tumour is growing, we need to remove it today. It's impressive that a first-year resident caught that slight discrepancy. Scrub up and inform the head OR scheduling team." She nodded and ran ahead to the neuro nurse's station.

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Dr. Abrams' steady hands delicately probed their patient's brain, carefully moving the scalpel to separate the tumour from the rest of the brain. Sarah was at his side studying his movements and answering all his questions. " And what do we do next Dr. Reese?"

"The tumour is ready to be removed, we place it in a surgical tray to get transferred to pathology to be tested."

"Good. I want you to take the tumour there personally, the growth rate is concerning. Attend to my post-ops afterwards."

"Of course Dr. Abrams." Sarah took his orders very seriously and refrained from doing a happy dance the second she exited the OR. The tumour was moved from the surgical tray to a plastic container marked for biological testing before she washed her arms and scrubbed down. As she headed to the elevator she noticed Maggie talking to the OR nurses stationed at the desk. Their eyes met and Sarah knew that Maggie, like Manning, weren't going to stop insisting she was acting differently until she wasn't. As the doors closed she took a deep breath and revelled in the relief that her abortion was tomorrow.

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Sarah finished her shift completely starving and a little disheartened. News of Robyn's admittance to the hospital had become widespread, she'd had to act like she hadn't already known when Doris jumped next to her in the cafeteria before flittering off to tell another person who had no business knowing that information. Sarah felt angry on Robyn's behalf, the poor woman was going through something so terrifying, and now she wasn't even able to defend herself from others slandering her. She'd wanted to say something to Doris, snap back at her, but the gossip had slithered away before she could even get a word out.

Her day got even worse when Jimmy came in with a victim, riding in ambo 61 while Sylvie was on vacation visiting her parents. It was hands down the most awkward interaction ever. He handed off the patient to her, but then wouldn't go away. And Chilli was glaring at her the whole time. Sarah briefly considered that maybe they were on a break or having a tiff and he was trying to make the other paramedic jealous, and then just got more annoyed. She just looked at him incredulously before focusing back on the patient. He still didn't leave. "Jimmy, let's go restock... Jimmy. Let's go." She could feel his eyes boring into her and could feel her blood boiling. What was his problem? His job was done, it was time for her to do hers now. Instead, he was jabbering on about shrimp, the Blackhawks, and her hair, of all things. She closed the curtains on him, only for him to open them back up with a smug smile. All despite the fact that everyone was telling him to leave, Dr. Manning, April, Doris, Maggie. "Uh, hey, dude? Could you maybe leave her alone? She's supposed to fix my arm which has a shard of glass sticking out of it, not being creeped on by you." She couldn't believe it took her patient saying something to get him to leave.

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Sarah rolled her neck, trying to shake the day away while she relished in a moment of silence in her hiding place when Connor found her. "I heard that you had a pretty crappy morning."

"You could say that."

"So, Jimmy showed up?"

"He was a paramedic today."

"Well, that's debatable. Paramedics leave after they hand off a patient."

"Yeah, I know. It was... Really weird. Honestly, it's probably because he's working with Chilli and they're going through something."

"They're always going through something."

"Tell me about it."

"So what really happened? Cause I've heard a few different versions at this point."

"The ambulance called ahead with possible neurological damage, he was fine but it's better to be safe than sorry, and Jimmy just wouldn't leave. I was just trying to do my job and he was just standing there, watching me, and talking about my hair. He was asked to leave so many times, Dr. Manning, nurses, hell even his partner joined in. I tried to close the curtain twice but he just opened it again, and actually looked a little insulted that I did. I don't know what his deal was."

"Damn. I don't know him very well but he kinda seems like a tool."

"He is, but I wasn't exactly looking for anything long-term with him."

"Fair enough."

"Speaking of long-term relationships, how's Robyn doing? Your meeting with the hospital about her release is today, right?"

"Yeah, it's in an hour. Robyn's been doing good, I'm just trying to calm down right now."

"Nervous?"

"Angry."

"About?"

"Dr. Charles is her father who abandoned her and has spent the last several months trying to forge some kind of a relationship with her. He has no right to claim to know what's best for her, personal or professional. She was meeting with a psychiatrist, they'd come up with a treatment plan, she was actually talking about admitting herself to psych. But now? She's totally shut down, completely defensive, and I want to help her but she won't let me."

"Something to bring up to her is resuming treatment and all the plans she had before, just at a different hospital. Gaffney isn't the only hospital with psych facilities, Lakeshore's is actually better rated. So she'd still get treatment but her files wouldn't be accessible by her father and none of his orders regarding her care would be taken seriously, he doesn't have clearance there."

"That's a great idea, Sarah. Thank you, I'll make sure to bring it up with her."

"No problem. I really hope that Robyn gets proper treatment and as much space from her father as she wants."

"Me too. I should probably get going, I have to change out of my scrubs and meet with my lawyer before the meeting."

"Good luck!"

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"Hey, Reese, are you going to Molly's?"

"No, I'd rather go home and get some sleep."

"You haven't really been coming out with us a lot, are you okay?"

"Did I ever really go that often in the past?"

"Touché."

"And, I'm fine. Completely fine, but Manning and Maggie don't believe me and I suspect that they go to you too, Choi."

"Guilty as charged, we're just worried about you."

"But there is nothing to be worried about."

"You can't eat, you've been throwing up, you've somehow gotten even more private and secretive, and Borelli's been really weird lately. Always asking where you are, how you're doing, what your day was like, and then there was that whole incident in the ED. Something's going on, Sarah. We are worried about you."

"You're right, something's going on, but it's nothing bad and certainly nothing I can't handle myself."

"So there is something going on." She just sighed and gave him an exasperated look. He held his hands up in defence and sent a weak smile her way. "I guess I'll see you later then, Reese."

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It was abortion day, as Connor had so lovingly dubbed it. Sarah was nervous beyond belief and she had no idea why. It was a quick, painless procedure. A procedure she wanted. There was nothing to be afraid of. She'd been in an OR a couple of times to watch abortions being performed during her OB/GYN rotation. The procedure was simple and safe, there should not have been an entire damn zoo stomping around in her stomach, there was nothing to be nervous about... Right? The knots in her stomach kept twisting and twisting, bile was rising up her throat and she just couldn't hold it back. She barely made it to the bathroom in time.

She spent ten minutes gripping the toilet bowl as her body shook and was drained of energy every time she opened her mouth. Her hair had clumps of vomit and toilet water infect her curls. She was cold everywhere but her throat which felt like it was burned with how raw it was. Tears prickled her eyes, but she had no idea why. Yes, she was going through hormone changes but she hadn't actually reached the hormone stage of pregnancy yet. Stage of pregnancy. She felt so strange whenever she thought about it, so she tried not to. She'd finished getting dressed in leggings and a sweater when her buzzer went off. Puzzled, she pressed the button on the intercom system. "Hello?"

"Sarah? Hi, it's Connor. I'm here to take you to the clinic for your procedure if you want. Just to be supportive and take you home after."

"Connor, you don't have to."

"I know, I'm offering. Everyone needs a support system. You've been mine while dealing with this whole Robyn debacle, I'll be yours through this."

"Thank you, Connor. I'll take you up on it, I'll be downstairs in a few minutes."

"Okay, see you then."

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The car ride was smooth and luxurious, solely because of Connor's high-end car. Inside, Sarah was nothing but nerves. The sinking feeling in her stomach that had been present since she booked the abortion got heavier and heavier the closer they got to the clinic. Connor was trying to keep the mood light by talking about how hectic med school had been in Guadulajara but was failing through no fault of his own, it was all Sarah's. When they actually made it to the clinic Sarah was on the verge of violently vomiting all over the interior of the car. "Sarah? Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Sarah, you don;t have to do this if you don't want to."

"I know."

"Okay. Then take a deep breath, I've got you."

Sarah doesn't actually remember exiting the car on shakey legs. Or pushing through the mob of pro-life jackasses. Or being escorted to the admitting room by a security guard. One moment she was sitting in the passenger seat with Connor holding her hand and running his thumb across her knuckles and the next she was standing beside him in line to talk to the secretary who sat behind bullet-proof glass. The blue walls and colourful decor felt alien to her for some reason. "Name?"

"Sarah Reese."

"And is this your support person?"

"Yes."

She answered the rest of the secretary's questions despite feeling like she was underwater, and was instructed to take a seat and wait for her name to be called. The longer she sat there, the more suffocated she felt, and Connor's supportive hand-holding and an arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders only did so much. It felt like they sat there for eternity, time dragging on in the most cruel, painful way. The woman who had been opening the frosted door to call out names and guide people through to the back reappeared. "Sarah Reese?" She didn't move. She couldn't. "Sarah?" This time it was Connor. "Sarah? Please say something, anything." She could feel the weight of everyone in the room staring at her. "I can't do this Connor."

"Okay, then let's get out of here."

#One Chicago #chicago med #Sarah Reese #connor rhodes #connor x sarah #sarah reese x connor rhodes #robyn charles #connor rhodes x robyn charles #rheese #natalie manning #maggie lockwood #jimmy borrelli #Chicago Fire

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atsoukalidis · 4 years ago

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The “Order of time” by Carlo Rovelli, is one of the most fascinating popular science books I have read, forcing me to rethink our relation to time and our place in the universe. And as the author says ““The very foundation of science is to keep the door open to doubt.” At the same this, this is a hymn to Man, the Creator of reality and an invitation to explore the beauty of the world that surrounds us. Great read!

“The Order of Time, a deeper, more abstruse meditation, elucidates some of the key developments in the philosophy and physics of time. Fortified with quotations from Proust, Anaximander and the Grateful Dead (Rovelli has a hippyish past), the book continues a tradition of jargon-free scientific writing from Galileo to Darwin that disappeared in the academic specialisation of the last century. Clock time, said Einstein, is an illusion. In his general theory of relativity (published over a century ago in 1915) he predicted that time passes more quickly “high up” than below, nearer to the Earth. So if a man who has lived at sea-level meets his twin who has lived in the mountains, he will find that his sibling is slightly older. Analogously, a clock placed on the floor runs a little more slowly than one on a table. So which of the two tells the real time? The question runs through Rovelli’s book. Einstein showed that there is no single 'now' but rather a multitude of 'nows' What is real? What exists? Einstein’s observation that time passes at different speeds in different places unsettled not just the anti-Jewish physicists of the Third Reich but the Roman Catholic church. Can it really be a sin to know? In the 17th century, curiosity-driven researchers such as Galileo had dared to put divine laws to the test. (“For in much wisdom is much grief”: Ecclesiastes.) In tasting of the tree of knowledge, Einstein quite as much as Galileo had offended against the established order of things, according to Rovelli. Beautifully translated by Erica Segre and Simon Carnell, The Order of Time is an expression of the scientific desire to know and understand the world. “Physicists are not immune to talking nonsense,” says Rovelli, but physicists are said to go deeper than other scientists into the mystery of existence. The laws of physics – gravity, energy, motion, time – underpin those of chemistry, astrophysics and meteorology combined. So an understanding of the workings of time requires some understanding of physics. Rovelli’s book opens with a discussion of Newton’s idea of absolute “true time”, ticking relentlessly across the universe. This is how most of us still imagine time, though Einstein showed that there is no single “now” but rather a multitude of “nows”. Rovelli goes on to consider Aristotle’s belief that what we call “time” is simply the measurement of change: if nothing changed, time would not exist. Newton chose to disagree. If the universe was to be frozen, time would tick on regardless. Impishly, Einstein asserted that both Aristotle and Newton were right. Aristotle correctly explained that time flows in relation to a before and after; and Newton’s absolute time does indeed exist – but as a special case in Einstein’s “spacetime” theory of gravity, which treated space and time as one and the same. In Rovelli’s own elucidation, the Earth moves round the sun because of the distortion of “spacetime” by the sun’s greater mass. An analogy presents “spacetime” as a rubber sheet distorted by a heavy ball representing the sun; a smaller ball rolling by, representing a planet, will tend to fall into this depression, apparently attracted. In Einstein’s universe, this is what is known as gravity. Time runs slower wherever gravity is strongest, and this is because gravity warps or curves “spacetime”. The riddle of time may ultimately be beyond our “blurred”, Earth-bound comprehension, says Rovelli. All the same, in lucid pages, he manages to bring difficult ideas down a level. Not since the late Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time has there been so genial an integration of physics and philosophy.”

“If I ask whether two events—one on Earth and the other on Proxima b—are happening “at the same moment,” the correct answer would be: “It’s a question that doesn’t make sense, because there is no such thing as ‘the same moment’ definable in the universe.” The “present of the universe” is meaningless.”

“It is like the point where the rainbow touches the forest. We think that we can see it—but if we go to look for it, it isn’t there.”

“The entire evolution of science would suggest that the best grammar for thinking about the world is that of change, not of permanence. Not of being, but of becoming.”

“This is time for us. Memory. A nostalgia. The pain of absence. But it isn't absence that causes sorrow. It is affection and love. Without affection, without love, such absences would cause us no pain. For this reason, even the pain caused by absence is in the end something good and even beautiful. Because it feeds on that which gives meaning to life.”

“Because everything that begins must end. What causes us to suffer is not in the past or the future: it is here, now, in our memory, in our expectations. We long for timelessness, we endure the passing of time: we suffer time. Time is suffering.”

“Reality flows from the past, through the present, towards the future – and the evolution of things between past and future is intrinsically asymmetrical. This, we thought, is the basic structure of the world.”

“It is within my mind, then, that I measure time. I must not allow my mind to insist that time is something objective. When I measure time, I am measuring something in the present of my mind. Either this is time, or I have no idea what time is.”

“Time temporalizes itself only to the extent that it is human.”

“A present that is common throughout the whole universe does not exist. Events are not ordered in pasts, presents and futures; they are only ’partially’ ordered. There is a present that is near to us, but nothing that is ‘present’ in a far-off galaxy. The present is localized rather than a global phenomenon. The difference between past and future does not exist in the elementary equations that govern events in the world. It issues only from the fact that, in the past, the world found itself subject to a state that, with our blurred take on things, appears particular to us. Locally, time passes at different speeds according to where we are and at what speed we ourselves are mobbing. The closer we are to a mass, or the faster we move, the more time slows down: there is no single duration between two events,; there are many possible ones. The rhythms at which time flows are determined by the gravitational field, a real entity with its own dynamic that is described in the equations of Einstein. If we overlook quantum effect, time and space are aspects of a great jelly in which we are immersed. But the world is a quantum one, and gelatinous spacetime is also an approximation. In the elementary grammar of the world, there is either space nor time – only processes that transform physical quantities from one to another, from which it is possible to calculate probabilities and relations. At the most fundamental level that we currently know of, therefore, there is little that resembles time as we experience it. There is no special variable ‘time’, there is no difference between past and future, there is no space time. We still know how to write equations that describe the world. In those equations, the variables evolve with respect to each other. It is not a ‘static’ world, or a ‘block universe’ where all change is illusory: on the contrary, ours is a world of events rather than of things.

At the same time, in the emergence of familiar aspects of time, we ourselves have had a role to play. From our perspective – the perspective of creatures who make up a small part of the world – we see that world flowing in time. Our interaction with the world is partial, which is why we see it in a blurred way.”

“We are not even clear about what it means ‘to understand’. We see the world and we describe it: we give it an order. We know little of the actual relation between what we see of the world and the world itself. We know that we are myopic. We barely see just a tiny window of the vast electromagnetic spectrum emitted by things. We do not see the atomic structure of matter, nor the curvature of space. We see a coherent world that we extrapolate from our interaction with the universe, organized in simplistic terms that our devastatingly stupid brain is capable of handling. We thing of the world in terms of stones, mountains, clouds and people and this is ‘the world for us’. About the world independent of us we know a good deal, without knowing how much this good deal is.”

“We are stories, contained within the twenty complicated centimeters behind our eyes...”

“I am my mother’s caresses, and the serene kindness with which my father calmly guided me; I am my adolescent travels; I am what my reading has deposited in layers in my mind; I am my loves, my moments of despair, my friendships, what I’ve written, what I’ve heard; the faces engraved on my memory. I am, above all, the one who a minute ago made a cup of tea for himself. The one who a moment ago typed the word “memory” into his computer. The one who just composed the sentence that I am now completing. If all this disappeared, would I still exist? I am this long, ongoing novel. My life consists of it.”

#philosophy #physics #time #order of time #carlo rovelli #life

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