#I guess some people also just flatten him too much but it’s the softening that annoys me more here too

[sealer-of-wenkamui]

I gotta compile all my thoughts on Limbo at some point cause I noticed I disagree with many things I’ve seen people say about him, mostly in that I think people soften him too much (there is a lot of complexity to his actions but he truly is cruel and takes pleasure in it… And also has no care for consent lol) and are really dismissive of all he put poor Danzou through (saying he was helping her really rubs me the wrong way, look what he did to her in Shimousa he’s just doing that again… she suffered more precisely because she had people she cared about there and that was the point)

[thepartyresponsible]

this soundtrack fill is for kittenlzlz, who i cannot tag because it’s all sabotage all the time over here. also, i'm sorry, i didn’t realize you’d changed your prompt until after i wrote this one, so this is for the first thing you sent in.

anyway, here’s some dystopian sci-fi angst for sam and bucky with a hopeful ending. the song for this one is “achilles come down” by gang of youth.

                                                         —

When he was young, Sam spent thirty-seven weeks in New Mexico, learning how to keep people alive until evac. That others may live was a motto they preferred to operationalize rather than idealize, and, without the EMT training, pararescue tended to turn into high-risk body retrieval. So he spent the better part of a year learning how to keep a body breathing, and he learned, also, how to recognize when any effort was likely to be wasted.

Which is how he knows that what he’s looking at isn’t fully human. Because a human would already be dead.

It’s the blood that tells him, more than anything else. The Chitauri bleed a thick, dark blue substance that goes black if their cybernetics are leaking. And there’s plenty of blue and black puddled on the asphalt, but that red is a hemoglobin gift, and that means it’s all human.

“Shit, man,” Sam says, crouching next to the only human at this massacre. “You could keep a blood bank in business all by yourself.”

The man lifts his head and blinks at him, slow and a little dazed. Not dazed enough, though. He can almost focus on Sam’s face. “Not anymore,” he says, after a beat.

More blood bubbles up at the corners of his mouth. Sam can see it between his teeth.

“Yeah,” Sam says. And he laughs, because he might as well. Because he came out here with a team of ten to clean out the aliens, and it looks like one guy did their work for them. “Guess not.”

He’s a pathetic sight, really. Ragged body armor, hair clumped together, skin sticky with blood and ichor. He’s belly down on the cracked parking lot, and there’s a smear of blood behind him, showing exactly how far he’s managed to drag himself.

Sam’s not excited about what he’s going to see, when he rolls this guy over on his back.

“You gonna fight me if I help you?” he asks.

Most of them, these Enhanced, the surviving Super Soldiers, they can’t help it. Sam’s had to put a few down himself, although not for a while now. It’s been almost a year since he had to kill anything with a human face.

The man sighs. He rests his forehead against the asphalt, closes his eyes. His fingers flex and then go still. “I don’t know,” he says.

That others may live, Sam thinks. But the problem has always been that lives are balanced on both sides of the scales, and, sometimes, saving one means sacrificing another.

This man killed fifteen Chitauri, and he did it alone. There are kids back at the base. Vulnerable people.

The safest choice would be to leave him here. Let him save himself, if he can. But Sam’s never really been the safe choice type.

“Okay,” he says, hands curling around his shoulders, carefully rolling the man over on his back, “let’s see the damage.”

It’s enough to kill a human. But that’s not really what he’s dealing with.

                                                           —    

The Super Soldiers were a desperation play. Sam was supposed to be one of them. The best of Earth’s fighters, dosed with serum, patched up with cybernetics based on Chitauri tech, sent out to face the enemies that had invaded the planet.

Sam’s still not sure exactly how it happened, what level of their defenses failed. He only knows failure by its consequences.

The neural implants were hacked. The soldiers turned against their people. Sam, who’d been four days out from his own procedure, was shifted to a team tasked with hunting them down and eliminating them.

These days, there aren’t many left. There’s not much of anyone left. The Chitauri fundamentally misunderstood their target. Sam could’ve warned them. The species of mutually assured destruction was never going to die quiet.

He thinks about that while the Soldier sleeps, chained to a bed in a locked basement in an abandoned building two miles from the base. Sam keeps watch. He has a radio in case anything goes wrong, but he doesn’t intend to use it for anything other than warning them what’s coming.

“I could’ve been you,” Sam tells him. And then, smiling at nothing, shaking his head, “Hell, you could’ve been me.”

He wonders where he’s from. He wonders what his name is.

He wonders, when he can’t help it, what he did. If he ever killed anyone Sam used to know.

                                                           —    

The Soldier sleeps for forty hours and then sits straight up in bed, rips the chains off his wrists like they’re pipe cleaners, and then turns to face Sam. “What the hell,” he says.

“Oh, well,” Sam says, too startled to be afraid. “Didn’t want anyone stealing you.”

The Soldiers makes a face at him, an incredulous sneer that twists up his mouth and pulls his dark eyebrows together, and he looks so human, so perfectly skeptical, that Sam starts laughing.

“Well,” he says, with a shrug, “you killed fifteen aliens with a tire iron. You’re a treasure.”

“And I want it back.” he says, immediately. “Where’s my tire iron?”

“Confiscated,” Sam says.

He glares, and Sam‘s probably meant to be intimidated, but he knows – they both know – that, if this guy wanted to scare Sam, he could just start breaking bones. Or walls. “I want it back when I leave.”

“Leave,” Sam repeats. He kicks back in his chair, balances on the back legs as he swings his feet up onto the Soldier’s bed. “Why’re you leaving?”

The Soldier stares at Sam’s booted feet near his knees. “Usually it’s the fact that I’m a timebomb that chases me off,” he says, “but it looks like your manners are the real horrorshow around here.”

Sam grins at him. He’s merciless about it, uses the most charming smile in his arsenal. He expects the guy to soften a bit, but he’s not expecting the doubletake he gets, the there-and-away bounce of his stare, like Sam’s suddenly something he wants to look at but doesn’t want to get caught looking at.

Huh, he thinks.

“When’s the last time you hurt someone?” Sam asks.

The Soldier’s face crumples up and then flattens out. “What is this? Some kinda trial? An interrogation?”

“If this were an interrogation, I wouldn’t’ve given you the soft pillows,” Sam tells him.

The Soldier doesn’t look like he buys it. But, after a moment, he tips his head to the side. “Probably wouldn’t want to get blood on these white sheets,” he acknowledges.

“Christ,” Sam says, because that more or less seems to be the only thing he could possibly say to something like that.

The Soldier shrugs. He brushes his hair away from his face, blinks, and gives Sam a skeptical sideways stare. “Did you wash my hair?”

“With a firehose,” Sam confirms. “Damn near shaved the whole thing off. You were a mess, man.”

He shrugs. “It’s messy work.”

And, sure, it is. Sam knows. His base is the first resettlement outpost in this region. They’ve been clearing Chitauri out of the area for months.

But he still takes a damn shower whenever possible.

“Who were you?” Sam asks. “Before the program?”

The Soldier looks away. Looks at nothing. After a long pause, he recites, careful and rote, “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. 107th.”

“Okay,” Sam says. “James. When’s the last time you hurt a human being?”

He worries at his lower lip, teeth pressing into the skin. He’s quiet for a very long time. “Thirteen months, ten days,” he says, finally.

Sam considers the timeline. “You think it’s over?”

“I think the implant’s in my fucking brain,” he says. “It’ll be over at brain death.”

“It’s just a chip,” Sam says. “It’s not sentient. Someone’s gotta send the message, right?”

The Soldier’s jaw works. “Even if the aliens stay out, there’s gonna be plenty of people who want to use someone like me, as soon as they rebuild enough to manage.”

It’s a hell of thing, and it could’ve been Sam.

He nudges the Soldier’s knee with his boot, and the Soldier stares at the point of contact. He doesn’t look angry anymore. If Sam had to use a word to describe the expression on the Soldier’s face, he thinks he’d use something bittersweet and barbed, something like lonely or longing.

“Gonna be a long damn time before anyone’s rebuilt,” he says.

“Aliens could have reinforcements here at any time,” the Soldier says.

“Maybe,” Sam says, although he thinks they might’ve learned some kind of lesson. At the very least, they’ve probably learned that it’s just not worth the effort.

“Look,” Sam says. “I think you should come back to the base.”

“No,” he says. Immediate and definite, louder then he’s been so far.

Sam expected it. Maybe part of him hoped for it. “Okay,” he says. “Then we’ll stay here. And, when you’re better, I want you to take a radio. And I want you to check in with us. All right? Every day.”

The Soldier stares at him. “Why the hell would you want that?”

Sam smiles, studies the hollows of the Soldier’s face, the scars, the freckles he must’ve earned when he was young, used to play too long in the sun. He has, Sam thinks, beautiful eyes. “There’s not a lot of us left,” he says.

“‘Us,’” the Soldier repeats, scoffing audibly.

“Us,” Sam repeats. He nudges the Soldier’s knee again, and the Soldier cuts his eyes away, glares at the wall. But, a moment later, he shifts, leans his knee into Sam.

                                                         —      

His name is Bucky Barnes. He’s fussy as hell, stubborn beyond belief, helpful every chance he can get, and fond of cats and songbirds. He doesn’t cheat at cards, and he doesn’t accuse Sam of it either, even when Sam beats him damn near every hand.

He’s a good man. Even now.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Sam says. Because it’s been two weeks, and Bucky’s decided he’s well enough to go.

Bucky ducks his head. “Shut up,” he says.

Sam wonders if he was always this head shy about affection.

“C’mere,” he says. “I’ll give you a goodbye kiss.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says, practically scuttling away, head still ducked. When he raises it, he’s grinning one of his ghost grins, the ones that almost show who he used to be, like a faint echo of a louder, happier man.

“Okay,” Sam says. “But if I don’t get a goodbye kiss, I’m definitely not gonna talk dirty to you on that radio. You gotta put in the work, Bucky.”

“I hate you,” Bucky tells him, and his crush couldn’t be more obvious. Sam would be embarrassed for him, if he weren’t busy being charmed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says. “Check in every day, or I’m gonna track you down.”

“Hm,” Bucky says. He adjusts his pack on his shoulders. He’s got that tire iron, an alarming number of knives, and two guns. He’s setting off to kill more aliens. He’s going alone. “That supposed to be a threat?”

He was a Barnes in the Army and Sam was a Wilson in the Air Force, and so Bucky is a Super Soldier and Sam is not. It’s unpredictable, sometimes, the way mercy falls.

“Be careful out there,” Sam says, and he knocks his elbow against Bucky’s.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. He rolls his eyes and then catches Sam watching, and he blinks, falters. “Yeah,” he says, again. Softer, steadier. A promise, not a joke.

Sam considers him, lets the moment hang. Waits. Sometimes, all Bucky needs is the space and time to make up his own mind.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Bucky says.

“There it is,” Sam says, grinning, almost crowing in triumphant. “There--”

“Oh, Jesus,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes again, getting theatrical about it. “I already regret saying it.”

“Can’t take it back,” Sam taunts, grinning wide and smug.

“I’m going,” Bucky says, and he starts off, doesn’t look back.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam calls, when Bucky’s just about to break through the treeline, disappear into the woods. “I hate to see you go, but I love----”

“Fuck off, Sam!” Bucky says, but he’s laughing, and Sam can still hear it – surprised and happy, fully human – even after Bucky disappears.

[outro-tearist]

paws of paradise - chapter 2 {bangtan ot7 x reader}

hi everybody! sorry for the inactivity but idek how to do a schedule ever. i think that maybe once a week is what i'm shooting for, but i honestly have no plot and im making it up as i go!

as per usual, i'd appreciate comments, thoughts, suggests, anons, anything! have a great day!

~silver~

chap 1 chap 2 chap 3

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“Shit.” (Y/N) whispered. Not only were there two new dogs today, but Jimin also couldn’t make it to help with walking today.

Kim Yeontan and Jeon Gureum had joined the roster of new regulars, and while she appreciated the support of her business in the bustling city, she couldn’t help but stress over the fact that so many people were becoming dependent on her.

This was the busiest day she had seen ever since she had packed from her old home in a small countryside town. As the small town stereotype goes, everybody knew everybody in her hometown. She was mostly known for being a farmer’s daughter and having a preference for animals over humans.

After spending most of her teenage years hanging out in barns of cows, horses, goats, and other farm animals, she had realized her passion was helping and caring for them.

At the same time, (Y/N) was bored of her small-town life and wanted to experience the hustle that city life promised. She could have easily gotten a grooming job somewhere in the country but decided that it would be best for her to move to Seoul.

She had never once regretted her decision, but that does not mean it was easy for (Y/N) in any way. Buying a shop, getting certified to groom, remodeling her shop, finding an affordable apartment, and getting a small job before her shop opened were just a few struggles she had fought through.

“You little- c’mon Gureum! I have yummy treats!! Mmmmmmm come get some.” (Y/N) baby talked to the small white dog. He seemed to laugh in her face as it turned around and continued to jump around Yeontan and another larger dog that she forgot the name of.

Gureum seemed to instigate the most trouble out of all the dogs she had met. She would always find the “dynamic duo” (Jimin’s nickname for Gureum and Yeontan) prancing around the other dogs and creating chaos. Yeontan would usually stop when told but would be roped back in by Gureum to run around and bark wildly.

“Gureum! C’mere boy,” a new voice called from behind (Y/N). Apparently, somebody had come into the back of the shop and she didn’t even hear the bell.

She let out a small shriek as he rushed past her legs and made her lose her balance. She desperately tried to regain her balance but unfortunately fell backward. She closed her eyes to brace for the ass flattening she would receive but was only met with a firm chest and bulging arms wrapping around her quickly.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay Noona?!” the young boyish-faced with the largest build she had seen called out to her.

(Y/N) looked up at the boy with bunny teeth and quickly pushed herself up and off his chest. “AH! Yes! I am all good now,” she chuckled awkwardly. “Um, how did you get back here?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you! I thought you’d heard the bell in the front but then I saw you struggling with him so I thought I would help a little.”

“Is Gureumie yours?”

The boy bashfully ducked his head as he leaned down to pet the calmest version of the white dog the girl had ever seen. “Ah, yeah. My hyungs say that he and I are kinda similar but I don't see it… Anyways, they also told me that you are the best groomer around, and from how he looks now, I think I’ll be here more often.”

“Wow… Thank you, and tell your hyungs thanks too! What’s your name so I can log him out?” (Y/N) was so excited to hear people giving her small shop good reviews. It meant that all her hard work actually meant something.

“I’m Jeon Jeongguk, and I’ll let Namjoon hyung and Seokjin hyung know. They’ll be happy you thought of them too.” he smiled brightly and picked his still wiggly dog up.

“Have a great day! Hope to see you soon.” (Y/N) smiled at Jeongguk as he walked out of the shop. She walked into the back only to see Yeontan jumping up on Jimin.

“Jimin! I thought you were busy today- and how’d you get in?” (Y/N) grinned at her coworker. She felt her cheeks warm and her heart beat a little faster now that he was here, but she brushed it off as soon as Jimin responded.

“The back door is always opened, like usual. And I still am but I just wanted to stop by… check-in and make sure you’re doing alright?” Jimin started somewhat nervously. (Y/N) giggled a little bit as she stood a little closer in order to pet the dog in Jimin’s arms.

“Well, Jimin, I am doing very well right now. In fact, I walked all the dogs AND finished the appointments scheduled so far. Maybe you need to step up your game on dog walking.” (Y/N) teased lightly.

Jimin scoffed, “Oh please, you wouldn’t have hired me if you didn’t need to. Admit it, you need me to be here.”

This statement made (Y/N) freeze up a little. He was her first friend that she had met in Seoul, and thanks to him, she was able to achieve everything she had wanted and more. The girl softened a little bit and looked up into Jimin’s eyes.

“You’re right. I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me. Thank you so, so much.” she expressed her gratitude gently.

Jimin seemed to fluster at this, not expecting a genuine response from his coworker as he stuttered and stumbled to find new words. Luckily for the blushing man, the tinkling bell sounded from the front of the store.

“Hello, welcome to Paradise Pet Groomers, what can I do for you two?” (Y/N) politely asked the men as she walked out of the backroom. “Ah, Yoongi-ssi, good to see you!”

“Likewise.” the stoic man responded. He had Holly on a leash as his dog smelled the second man who walked in with another incredibly handsome man. His face seemed to be perfectly chiseled and he seemed to be a few inches taller than Yoongi standing next to him.

“Hi, Taehyung-ssi. Jimin will be right out with Yeontannie. And Yoongi-ssi, I’ll grab Holly now if you’d tell me what sort of cut you’d like for him.” (Y/N) smoothly managed the two customers.

“Taehyungie!” Jimin shouted as he ran out from the back with Yeontan. Taehyung greeted him back just as excited, and (Y/N) couldn’t help the twists of jealousy that ran through her veins as they seemed so happy to see each other. Despite that, she forced a grin on her face to turn back to Yoongi, who had brought him back into the grooming area.

“Just do the same cut as last time, please. Holly looked good like that.” Yoongi’s deep voice grumbled as he bent down to say goodbye. He let out a few small high-pitched squeals as (Y/N) watched through the window as Jimin and Taehyung were hugging.

Fuck. That should not have made her feel as angry as it did. Yoongi seemed to notice the tension that entered the air as he cleared his throat.

“Oh- sorry. Holly’s cut should only take about an hour and a half, so we’ll see you soon!” (Y/N) tried to crush the bitterness in her voice, but it was useless. Yoongi had to have noticed it, but he didn’t say anything. All he said was, “See you soon, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) took in a strained deep breath, and picked up Holly just as Jimin’s blushing face entered through the back again.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stay longer, but-”

“It’s fine. See you later Jimin.” (Y/N) cut him off shortly. Jimin’s eyebrows raised as he began to wonder what had happened when he was talking to- he blushed a little bit more thinking of Taehyung.

“Did Yoongi say anything? Are you alright…?” Jimin asked tentatively.

“No! I-I’m fine. Sorry to worry you, but you should get going. Don’t wanna be late to wherever you’re going.” Jimin’s shocked face hurt (Y/N) to look at, so she looked down at Holly and brought him to the baths.

“Oh. Right. I guess I’ll get going then.” Jimin stared at her a bit sadly before he awkwardly walked out the backdoor. “Oh my god Holly what is wrong with me.” (Y/N) said to the small brown poodle. He simply panted happily as she scratched behind his ears as the warm water flowed down his back.

[naancypants]

maybe this is perfect

Alright here is my finalized repost of the fic I accidentally published yesterday, LOL. If you enjoy, I'd love some support on Ao3 (work link is below)! I wrote this after 2x12 (+ updated to reflect news about 2x13 & 2x15, hehe) as a sort of speculative, "personal ideal" confession scene for the finale episode.

Ao3 | 2,051 words

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

"Hey," Nancy says from behind, twisting both hands around the strap of her messenger bag. "Can we talk?"

At the sound of her voice, Ace straightens from in front of his locker. He lets out a close-mouthed sigh as the question sinks into his stomach, and when he turns towards her, the discomfort she's feeling becomes evident in her body language.

"Yeah."

A beat passes where neither makes a move.

Nancy, however, is the first to take a step, drawing in a shuddering breath. "You've been avoiding me... for a while now. Ever since the whole life-and-death thing with Daniel West. And I'm sorry that I was willing to let people die to save you. I thought you would understand, that you would've done the same thing-"

"It's not about the list," Ace cuts in with a shake of his head, "That was a long time ago."

In reality it had only been a few weeks since Nancy and Grant traded a hit list to a professional killer to spare Ace's life, but time seems to move inordinately slow in Horseshoe Bay.

"I know. But that was also the same time I called in for a favor with Celia Hudson..." she allows her sentence to drift off there, urging Ace to connect the unspoken dots.

He hadn't tried to hide his feelings on the whole Celia situation, especially whenever he and Nancy talked one-on-one; yet still, her ability to pinpoint the root of behaviors she already notices in him never fails to surprise.

"I just... wish you would have consulted me before you made a deal with the devil."

Nancy recalls a talk during which she was alone with Ace, where he'd briefly confessed his dismay at her recent dealings with the Hudson matriarch.

A string of monotone words all run together as she attempts to explain, "We already went over this, Ace. I-I-I had to figure out how to save you, there was no time to consider my options."

"Maybe it wasn't worth it."

Within a second, revulsion twists every feature on Nancy's face.

"I'm sorry, what?" she demands.

Ace doesn't elaborate. Instead he lifts his raincoat from its hook and shuts the door to his locker, staring down at the garment in his hands with a shamed expression. It isn't long before Nancy has his elbow in a firm grip.

"Hey," she convinces him to whirl around and face her. "You're worth it to me."

You're always worth it to me. You're worth everything to me. A thousand times over, she wants to say. But she doesn't.

"I guess that's my problem."

"Your problem is that I care about you?"

"I don't want to be the reason you sell your soul to the Hudsons."

Nancy blinks, her ferocity weakening as she pulls away. "Aren't I allowed to make my own choices?"

"Of course. But... that doesn't mean I have to like them."

The way he says it is so casual, so lacking in venom that it makes her stomach wrench. He doesn't realize that the only approval Nancy craves is his; she is willing to stand up against even the closest of people in her life - Nick, George, her own father - but not Ace. His opinion of her serves as a compass whenever Nancy is too tired or worn down to trust her own judgment. His opinion is the one that matters most.

"Then what do you want from me? Tell me what I can do to make it better."

It's the most fragile, the most desperate she thinks she's heard herself. Nancy Drew is independent and decisive and strong. So whose voice is it that wobbles in fear, laying down her pride in the hands of another?

If there's anything Nancy can't stand, it's being clouded over with emotion, but the tightness in her throat only warns of an oncoming flood.

"Honestly, Nancy, I don't know right now. Maybe just... help me understand why before you make these kinds of decisions. I don't want you to get hurt."

Their eyes linger for what feels like an eternity, distanced by walls that neither of them know how to tear down.

When Ace moves, he turns decisively away.

Panic beginning to swell in her chest, Nancy pushes past all the other emotions running through her mind - fear, guilt, uncertainty - and takes one last step into the room before he has the chance to get away.

"I did it because I love you."

If anything could stop him cold in his tracks, it's that particular confession. His eyes meet the floor in front of him, speechless and calculating, each second ticking by in tense silence. He turns to face her once more.

There in the center of the room she stands, the bold and courageous girl detective herself, looking smaller than ever. Her voice is barely above a whisper now, eyes in danger of spilling over, "Ace... I think I might be in love with you."

Ace stands motionless in awe, save for a swallow and quick shift of his weight.

When Nancy gets nervous she often rambles to relieve some of her tension. "I didn't know how to say it before, and I- have never actually been in love so maybe I didn't even know what I was feeling until recently, but, you were with Amanda Bobbsey and not in love with me and it's all... very confusing..."

Breath leaves her lungs as quickly as words leave her tongue, anxiety shaking her down to the core. She blinks when the self-awareness sets in; lowers her gaze to the floor for a length of awkward silence.

"Nancy."

Eventually she looks back up to find him just a few feet away now, having crossed the room sometime after she finished prattling on about nothing. His raincoat hits the bench.

"There are.. a lot of reasons why I can't do this right now." He indicates himself with a curved hand to his chest.

Though her heart sinks, Nancy's eyelids still flutter. "But you- you would? Hypothetically?"

His mouth flattens into something that's not quite a smile, eyes as earnest as ever. "It's just that... y'know, Amanda's only been gone for a week. And I don't want to lose what we have - what all of us have."

"You won't," Nancy states with a furrowed brow, "Why do you think you would lose us?"

He bobs his head a bit. "Things could get complicated between us. Especially considering... things."

"What do you mean? What kind of things?"

"Well, I'm not trying to point fingers, but... there is your track record. With relationships."

It doesn't escape her attention that he refuses to make eye contact when he says the last part. She tenses up and repeats, "My track record?"

Ace opens his mouth to soften the words, but the look on his face is enough to suffice as an apology. Nancy retreats on her own as three particular guys - Ned Nickerson, Owen Marvin and Gil Bobbsey - flash through her mind's eye. Guys she had used as a distraction, a rebound, and a means of sexual gratification, all of which Ace witnessed firsthand from the sidelines.

"Yeah I deserve that, don't I," she says quietly.

"No, you don't. That part's fine. It's about everything else."

"Everything else being the Hudsons, Amanda, and losing what we have."

He offers only a nod. Draws in a breath. "Nancy, I want to love you too. And I'm not saying that I don't, but..." his voice breaks, just a bit, but enough for Nancy to notice.

"...It's not the right time," she finishes for him with a resigned nod; "yeah," under her breath.

This time it's Nancy who won't meet Ace's eyes. She darts them all across the room in avoidance, lips pursing together. "I'm- I'm sorry. This is.. not really who I am and I probably shouldn't have said anything to begin with, but-"

"No - no, don't apologize," Ace says with the usual gentle firmness and a slight tilt of his head. "I'm glad you said something. Really glad. In fact, um, if you're not opposed... there is something I wouldn't mind trying before you go off to Columbia."

"Ha. Who says I'm getting into Columbia?" she asks sardonically, crossing her arms.

Ace gives a subtle grin of support. "You'll get into Columbia."

She stops to consider his words, but then emits a soft chuckle, smiling gratefully at her best friend as though there were no mistakes, no confession of feelings, no heartbreak to contend with.

Time drags on as his vague statement from before remains unaccounted for, though almost as if pulled by gravity, there's a mutual instinct that draws them closer together.

Along with instinct, however, is hesitation - a slowness in the way they line themselves up, a caution in the way they read each others' eyes. Gradually his hands find their way to her jawline and before she knows it, in stark contrast to their prior pace, her back is up against metal with the most satisfying warmth she's ever known on her lips.

Nancy's entire body lights on fire, so much that it takes a dazed moment before she is able to react. Her eyebrows lift as she takes full advantage of the moment, kissing him back with the fervor of months worth of pent-up feelings all finally coming to surface; hands crawl upwards from his arms, to his shoulders, and eventually land on either side of his neck.

For a few rapturous seconds, they allow themselves to melt entirely into each other with the realization that things won't be like this again for a while; not until they're able to overcome the doubts, the obstacles, the emotional walls that they both know would cause more harm than good if they were to pursue this now.

Maybe this is perfect. Maybe one kiss - one blissful, ravenous taste of just what it is they're missing out on is enough to satiate their appetites for the time being and prepare them for what's to come.

With one last surge forward, hands sliding down his chest, Nancy realizes that kissing Ace never felt this good in her dreams.

Then, sooner rather than later, it's over.

Though their lips disconnect, everything else remains. A breathless minute comes and goes before either have any words to speak.

"Are you- are you sure you don't want to change your mind?" Nancy finally asks through her teeth, eyes drifting down to his mouth more than once.

A smirk tugs at his face as he steps back, hands remaining on Nancy's forearms for perhaps a touch longer than necessary. "Few more of those and I might."

Nancy gives a wistful giggle, using her shoulders to launch herself away from the lockers right when her phone buzzes.

Ace watches with curiosity as she opens her latest text notification, but waits silently to be filled in.

"It's George. She says they're waiting for us at their place," Nancy murmurs with her brow lowered, looking at Ace for a potential answer to her confusion.

Rarely one to disappoint, Ace nods in recognition. "Oh yeah, they took it upon themselves to reschedule game night. I was supposed to tell you."

Nancy raises her eyebrows in good spirit. "Ah. Well, I'm sure glad you told me in plenty of time."

"Come to think of it, Bess pretty much insisted I be the one to tell you. The whole thing must've been a ruse."

Nancy shrugs. "Eh, you know what they say. What's done is done." she waits a beat before thumbing towards the back door over her shoulder. "Join me?"

"Yeah," Ace agrees as he grabs his raincoat and the pair start walking out. "Yeah but I have to warn you, none of what just transpired is going to have any affect on how badly I demolish you in Absurd Code Word."

"Wow, Ace, I think you're underestimating my game night abilities. Have you ever seen me in Absurd Code Word?"

"Don't need to."

"I see. Is it because I'm a girl?"

"C'mon, Nancy. You know me better than that."

The ease with which they're able to shift gears serves as a delicate reminder of how intrinsically they are connected; of the level of comfort and stability within their potential when the time is right.

Whenever that may be.

[greatbigbellies]

New commission story. This is an anonymous commission about a dysfunctional couple who wind up pregnant with sextuplets! Contains heavy multiples pregnancy, stuffing, humiliation, and discomfort.

They had been dating for three months, and living together for one, and Morgan was already at his wits end. Lilith, his girlfriend, was lovely, and sweet, and pretty, and all the things he wanted in a girl… but she was also ungodly frustrating because of one reason, and one reason only: she refused to do ANYTHING that might be considered work.

She was between jobs, hadn’t so much as taken out the trash, and still hadn’t unpacked from moving in with Morgan! Now he made good money. Morgan could support the two of them and then some, and he didn’t want a maid for a girlfriend, but what he did want was some backup. Coming home from work every day to see Lilith sitting on the couch playing videogames, with a sink full of dirty dishes, a can full of trash, and a pile of takeout containers was absolutely grating.

So finally, he hatched a plan. Something almost cartoonishly vindictive, but it had to be done, as far as Morgan was concerned. He’d ruin her. He’d knock her up, stuff her full of food, and watch her inflate like a balloon. If she wasn’t going to move, then he’d make her physically incapable of moving! Multiples ran in both of their families, so with any luck, she’d land pregnant with more than one. He also did all of the cooking. ALL of it. So sneaking fertility meds into her meals wouldn’t be too difficult either, he’d decided. And so, his campaign of corpulence began.

13 Weeks

“Nrrrrggghhh… come ON! Damnit!” Lilith swore as she attempted to button her favorite jeans. They had been holding up well through the first trimester, stretching with her skin, but that was starting to change. Of course, a lot had changed in the last 3 months… she’d found herself pregnant, with SEXTUPLETS no less, and was dealing with the ramifications poorly. She’d been stress eating a lot, something Morgan had been enabling quite a bit, and her tummy was already showing some growth. Both from food and babies, her waistline had a definite visible baby bump, and her belly button was flattened and preparing to pop.

“What’s wrong?” asked Morgan as he stepped into the room, a smile in his voice. He looked to see her wearing just jeans and a bra, fighting with the waistline of her pants. “I’m too big for my favorite pair of jeans! These have the cute patches in them!” she lamented. “Oh babe...” he trailed off, circling around to her front. He pulled something out of his pocket and knelt down. She eyed him suspiciously, not sure where he was going with this. He revealed the item to be a thin rubber band, which he stuck through the button hole and wrapped both ends around the base of the button. “Voila!” he grinned. She frowned in return. “Really? A rubber band? They’re not buttoned properly, people will judge me!” “Babe, we’re just going to the mall, it’ll be fine, now put a shirt on and do your makeup so we can get going!” he urged. “Are we going by JCPenny’s to get me a bigger wardrobe?” she asked. Morgan had turned to leave but stopped at the question. He had to think of an excuse quickly. 

“Not yet…” he said. “But I’ll get my quarterly bonus soon, then we’ll go clothes shopping then!” he lied. She crossed her arms and glared at him, somewhat temperamental from pregnancy hormones. “You’re really going to make me walk around with unbuttoned pants and a top that rides up because you want to wait for a bonus?!” he grumped. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “We can’t be all willy-nilly with money anymore, Lilith, we have six kids on the way!” he retorted. Her face tightened, then softened. He was right. She rubbed her tummy and sighed. “Yeah, okay, what’s like… one more week with tight clothes? Your bonus is coming in soon right?” He nodded, “Any day now,”

20 weeks

 7 more weeks came and went, and Lilith saw no sign of that bonus… or her feet. Now looking full term with one baby, Morgan had been doing a number on her figure. All of the weight seemed to gravitate to her midriff, and so her tummy grew both with child and with a thin layer of fat. Still despite the small wrapping of chub, her bellybutton managed to work its way into a full fledged outie, about as big around as her thumb. 

She sat on the couch in her usual spot, playing a first person shooter on the console, but it didn’t feel the same anymore. She’d gotten in an argument with Morgan before he went to work. A conversation about job prospects got ugly when Morgan pointed out she was too visibly pregnant for anyone to hire her. “Get comfy babe,” he’d said, almost mockingly, “You’re not going anywhere for a while,” There was some yelling, and swearing, and Morgan ended up stomping out the door, it was an all around rotten day.

That was, until the door opened, to reveal Morgan carrying what had to be $40+ dollars in takeout from Lilith’s favorite restaurant. “Oh my god, babe, what’s all this?” she asked, turning to watch him. “I felt bad about our fight earlier, so I bought enough food to keep you and the babies happy, as a gesture of good will,” he explained. “Oh, honey, that’s so sweet of you, but I already had dinner! I-” “All the better!” he cut her off. “You’re eating for seven now, and the doc said to let you eat as much as you could, so…” he set the bags on the coffee table beside her. Morgan smiled down at Lilith, looking at her with those cold steel blue eyes. Lilith brushed some of her bright blue hair behind her ear and broke eye contact. “I don’t know hon… that’s a lot of food there…” she trailed off.

Morgan sat next to her, between Lilith and the food, and placed a hand on her bare midriff, running a palm over her stretching skin. “I know it feels like a lot, but this is for the babies! We have to get them up to weight by the time you’re full term, and the only way to do that is to eat everything your stomach can handle,” he explained, somewhat firmly. She sighed, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, for the babies,” she took the first of three heaping takeout containers full of teriyaki chicken, chow mein, and rice, and got to work. 

Morgan kept close to make sure she ate every last bite, only getting up to bring her water when she asked for it. The first box went down pretty quickly, her pregnant appetite getting the best of her. The second was remarkably slower, and Morgan could see it filling out her tummy, causing it to push farther out, just slightly. By the time they hit the third box, she was struggling. “Babe I’m too full… I’m done,” she whined in protest. “Nope, you need to finish what you started,” Morgan said, once again rather firmly. “Morgan I’m gonna throw up if I push it any more…” He took the plastic fork and gathered a mix of rice, chicken, and noodles, and slowly delivered it to her mouth. “Just one more bite, for the babies,” he smiled coyly. She begrudgingly took the bite and began chewing, brushing her blue hair out of her sweaty face. 

She was the fullest she’d ever felt, her belly feeling overstretched from a combination of growing babies and filled stomach. The pressure radiated from her midriff to make her whole body uncomfortable. She was miserable, and Morgan knew it. He tried not to show his enjoyment, but the truth was this was going better than he could have hoped for. 6 babies would leave her massive, and his mission to stuff her with every calorie under the sun was going smoothly. At this rate, they’d need a bigger bed to both fit on, an expense he was more than willing to make happen.

33 weeks

Lilith’s flip-flops pattered against her feet as she waddled toward the mall food court, moving as quickly as she could, which admittedly wasn’t very quick at all in her state. Wearing shorts that were stretched to capacity, held up with Morgan’s rubber band trick, and a “PINK” tank top that functioned more as a bra than anything else, she blushed red as she made her way. Everyone, from the young to the elderly, stared at her, or more specifically, her massive, mountainous middle. She was rivalling octomom in size, and the bigger she got, the more Morgan found excuses to take her out. He held her hand and tugged her along, leading the charge to the burger joint. 

“Babe everyone is staring! I want to go home!” she hissed at him. He turned to give her a side-eyed look and hiss back “You’ll be fine. Now come on, the babies are hungry!” the pair rounded a corner and Lilith came face-to-face with her highschool BFF. Gwen. “Lilith?” she asked, recognizing the hair color. “Y-yeah…” stammered Lilith. Morgan beamed. “Oh my god! Girl you didn’t tell me you were preggers!?” Gwen smiled and circled around to give Lilith a genuine hug. The two girls looked to Morgan, Gwen with excitement, and Lilith with embarrassment. “And Morgan, you’re looking suave as usual,” Gwen smiled. Morgan smirked. “Why thank you,” Gwen turned her attention to Lilith’s pendulous belly, “Gosh I wondered why I haven’t heard from you in months!? When’s the baby shower? I wanna spoil this little…” she trailed off… “These little… guys?” she asked. “We don’t know the sexes yet-” Lilith was cut off “In about a month and a half, we’re going to have lots of fun little games centered about this tank right here,” Morgan gave Lilith’s belly a hearty pat, “So tell all your girlfriends they’re invited, cause it’s going to be big!” he grinned. Lilith shot him a radioactive death glare, but he ignored it, his plans already in motion. “Okay! I gotta run cause I can’t be late for an interview but I’ll catch up later! Bye hon!” she said, running off. 

“Bye… Gwen…” Lilith shot another look at Morgan. “What the hell was that?! We’re NOT having a babyshower!” “Says you,” Morgan smirked. He proceeded to pile it on, “But your friend was so excited! Are you really going to dash her hopes like that? She just wants to spend time with you,” Lilith pouted, “I… guess so…” her response was cut off by a deep rumbling from her tummy. Morgan shot her a mischievous grin and took her hand again, continuing their trek.

Seeing as she was too big to fit in the booths, Morgan sat Lilith down at one of the chairs, and went off to order. She could feel all eyes on her as she placed a hand on her tummy to try to calm the movement she felt deep inside. What was in reality only a few minutes felt like hours as she waited for Morgan to return with the food. She was happy when she heard him approach, but was upset at what she saw him carrying. “That’s six burgers!?” she whisper-yelled incredulously. “Yeah, one for each baby!” stated Morgan, matter-of-factly. “I’m not about to pig out in front of all of these people!?” 

Morgan’s smile dropped when she said that. “Are you really going to let the stares of a few strangers deny food for your babies? OUR kids?” Lilith sighed. “Well… no, but can we take this home?” her tummy rumbled again in protest. “I don’t think they can wait,” Morgan whispered. “F-fine… but when I’m full I’m stopping,” she sighed. Morgan placed both hands on the firm, warm front of her belly, feeling her popped bellybutton under his right palm. “You’ll stop when THEY’RE full, alright?” Lilith looked down at herself. Her massive, bloated, overly pregnant self, and sighed. “Yes dear,”

She picked up the first juicy, tender steakburger he’d gotten her, and took a huge bite. The food itself actually tasted great, the mustard, tomato, and pickles. She had been craving pickles today, she just didn’t want to admit it. One by one, each burger disappeared into her huge pregnant gut, eliciting happy kicks from its occupants. Morgan smiled as he watched her. These burgers would have given her trouble a month ago, but now? Her stomach was stretched, her babies were hungry, and she had the capacity to be a professional speed-eater, all thanks to him.

Lilith was enamored by the tastiness of the burgers, she was downing one after another, about 40 seconds a piece. She was starting to get embarrassed though. The way Morgan was grinning at her… the way the other mall goers were just… staring. She was a big, fat, pregnant spectacle… and she hated it. She felt a *pop* from the front of her shots and her heavy belly lurched forward slightly, and she knew what had happened. “Uh oh, babe,” Morgan said loudly. “Looks like that rubber band wasn’t strong enough against your belly. I guess you were right,” he shrugged. Lilith’s cheeks burned with bright red embarrassment, but she kept eating, pretending not to hear him.

She jumped slightly as she felt his hand touch her bare tummy, rubbing it gently. “Now isn’t this better? Eating to your stomach’s content?” she swatted at him and pointed to the nearby slushy stand. “Cherry,” she grunted through a mouthful of food. “Whatever you say,” he slipped away. In reality, she just wanted some space from him. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, he’d been so clingy, spending every spare moment with her, making her eat and drink. “For the babies” had become as commonplace as breathing, she felt like, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was doing this all on purpose.

Her thoughts were interrupted by his quick return. “They were out of cherry, so I got you tiger’s blood,” he said, handing her the 44 oz drink. She swiped it form him with one hand, and polished off the sixth and final burger with the other. She felt heavy. Well… heavier, as the six greasy sandwiches settled in her gut. 7 more weeks… then she’d be due, and this would all be over.

39 weeks

Morgan had made good of his promise. He threw a baby shower, and Lilith was the center of attention, despite her wishes. Gwen, along with four other friends of theirs, had come to the party, and despite the relatively small gathering, Lilith felt absolutely smothered. She sat in her usual spot, in the center of the couch, and she was surrounded by her physically close, if not emotionally close friends. Her tummy had absolutely ballooned, and she was so big she couldn’t reach her popped navel anymore. While she’d stayed relatively free of stretchmarks, red and purple veins made themselves known on her shiny, overstretched skin. Her underbelly hung between her legs, which were forced to spread to make room for her massive mound of a womb.

No matter what she did, how much she complained, or what she threatened, Morgan would not buy her maternity clothes. Her belly hung proudly on display for all to see, weather she liked it or not. This had become so much more apparent during the shower. While Morgan brought food and drinks for all, Lilith sat planted on the couch, cooed at and touched like a walking petting zoo. She felt like she couldn’t go 10 seconds without a hand brushing against her belly, and the visible motion from the sextuplets inside did not help. “You’re positively glowing!” They all said. “You exude motherhood!” “I hope I look as good as you when I’m pregnant!” she hated all of it.

She snapped out of her surly stupor when she heard Gwen address her by name. “Lilith, I haven’t seen you covered up once this whole pregnancy! What made you decide to go belly-out the whole time?” Lilith forced a grin, “Well, Morgan had a LOT to do with it,” she replied, mentally grinding her teeth. “You’re just so brave, like it’s such a powerful look! You’re like ‘look out world, pregnant mama coming through’!” Gwen laughed, resting a hand on the side of Lilith’s gargantuan midriff. Morgan stepped into the room with some sort of plastic box. “You girls ready for another game?” he asked. Lilith turned red, the last game had been all about guessing the measurement of her waistline. All the guests had estimated her bigger than she was, and Morgan made a big show of measuring her, having a hard time getting the tape measure all the way around. 72 inches. She was 72 inches around. She was bigger around than she was tall. She almost cried at the realization.

Morgan opened the box to reveal a rainbow of different body paints and brushes, “You all get to belly paint!” Every girl there except for Lilith beamed with excitement. The various paints and brushes were snatched up lightening fast, and before she realized fully what was happening, Lilith was surrounded by five women all kneeling around her and applying paint to her overstretched, pregnant skin. Lilith couldn’t see what was being painted on her due to her sheer size, but she could only imagine how awful and embarrassing it would all look. Morgan already had his camera out, taking pictures.

Shivers went down her spine as Lilith felt the bristles and thick paint run over her sensitive bellybutton, Gwen giggling as she ran the brush up and down. Lilith felt so embarrassed, so large was her middle that she could be used as five canvases at once! Her face turned redder and she frowned as Morgan snapped shot after shot of her massive, bare tummy.

As time passed Lilith grew increasingly agitated. The sensation of paint brushes on her belly was absolutely grating, and the feeling of dry paint caking on the skin wasn’t helping either. She realized she was getting hungry, which was only souring her mood more. She felt her stomach gurgle and saw Morgan’s eyes light up. He as attuned to the sound of her rumbling tummy like a shark to blood, Lilith could tell he had something planned for this event in particular. Her belly rumbled again, this time louder, and the girls started to notice. “Damn girl, we gotta get you fed!” said Gwen, patting the belly. “You must be dying over there!” Lilith shook her head, “No, no I’m fine, I just need-” “Some cake!” beamed Morgan as he carried in a triple layer devils food cake. Lilith gulped.

“Gosh Morgan you treat her so well!” said one of the girls. “Anything for my girl!” he replied, setting the cake on the shelf of her belly. Lilith’s pleading eyes met Morgan’s powerful gaze, and she knew he was about to make her pig out. Right here. In front of all of her friends. He took a seat next to her on the couch, grabbed a fork, and scraped off a big mouthful. “Say Ahh,” he whispered. The girls went back to talking amongst themselves and painting, and Lilith was feeling pinned down by the weight of her sextuplet belly, and triple layer cake. She winced, and took the bite. “There… for the babies,” Morgan said, getting another forkful.

Bite after bite went down and Lilith could feel the brushes on her tummy slow down until nobody was painting anymore. All eyes were on her. She chewed and swallowed bite after bite of the sickeningly sweet cake, the frosting getting on her face and the top of her belly. She felt a couple of hands start feeling up her belly again as she pushed past the halfway mark of the cake.

It was so heavy and rich, and Lilith could feel every bite of it go right to her midriff. The babies began to stir and kick, which only landed more hands on her tummy. Bite. Chew. Swallow. Bite. Chew. Swallow. It became almost rhythmic as she entered a food induced trance. She could faintly hear the girls saying things like “wow, she can really put it away,” and “Is she going to stop?” and “I think I feel her belly getting tighter!”, but she was lost to the caloric intake and sheer, painful embarrassment. 

She only came to when the cake stopped coming. When she had eaten it all. Gwen clapped for her. Morgan gave her a kiss on the cheek to congratulate her. Everyone else kept their hands on her belly. “She gets real strong cravings for chocolate sometimes,” Joked Morgan, the other girls giggling at her expense. Moran got his camera back out. “Smile!” he said, mockingly, as he snapped a photo. 

A perfect shot of Lilith, 39 weeks pregnant with six babies, her belly bare, resting between her legs. Her tummy was covered in little paint doodles of flowers, trees, landscapes, and stick figure families, except for the top shelf, which was stained brown from the smeared chocolate. Her mouth was open as she breathed heavily through it, feeling ready to burst. Morgan sat down next to her again, and showed her the picture on the camera’s display screen. “This is you babe!” he laughed. “This is what you really are!”

[cuquitalocita]

'Tis the Season- Percabeth

AN: Percabeth AU where Sally Blofis is an art teacher and a new student has just moved in down the street.  Percy wants nothing more than to spend his Saturday relaxing on the couch with his little sister, but when he meets this new blonde... well, needless to say things weren’t what he planned.

This is based on a real encounter my friend had so thanks Caeden, I hope you learn her name :)

~~

Percy puffed a mouthful of ice-cold air through his conjoined fists as he rocked back and forth on his heels.  He glared at the bare wooden door, manifesting it to open as he knocked again with more force this time, suddenly annoyed at everything-; the early hour, the freezing weather, the art supplies his mother had asked him to drop off at her new student’s house- the student that also happened to be his new neighbor, and even the lack of decoration on said neighbor's house.  

He couldn’t believe it, but sure enough, his hand had come into contact with the one door in the neighborhood- hell- the one door in New York that didn’t have a wreath on it.  

No lights rimmed the house’s massive exterior and no cheesy blow-up Frosty’s or Rudolph’s littered the front yard, no smoke came from the wood-burning chimney which was everyone’s favorite house perk around this time of year, and from what Percy could see through the windows, no extravagantly bright Christmas tree stood anywhere in the house.

Who were these people?  And what the hell was wrong with them?

Percy almost felt as if it was a personal attack on himself and his family who always went all out for the holidays starting right as October ended, shoving up the largest tree they could find in the living room and munching on his mother’s delicious blue chocolate chip cookies as he and Estelle decorated the tree.  

His little sister had even asked him to let her put the star on the tree this year and Percy had been more than obliged to do so, lifting her up until she sat on his shoulders and reached over his head to set their Christmas in motion.

So as he stared at the cold dark house, he couldn’t help but feeling a negative prejudice against them without having met the people. 

Distaste soured his mouth as he rolled his eyes and scooped up the box of heavy art supplies that had been lying at his feet.  This time his knock was anything but friendly and something a bit too aggressive for the holiday season. Percy heard rushed angry footsteps stomp through the house before the heavy door flew open as if it was nothing to reveal-

“God what-”  

The rest of the words buzz out of comprehension in Percy’s mind as he stared at the blonde in front of him.  He wondered if his jaw had dropped to the floor or if he was just imagining the sudden hollowness in his stomach and facial features as though one look from her had made his soul soluble and had phased through his body and onto the ground, ready to be stepped on by her.

She was- well, she was gorgeous.

Wearing simple black leggings and a sweatshirt covered with a flannel and toes covered in fuzzy bear socks.  The girl couldn’t have been any older or younger than him if Percy had to guess, but her high and defined cheekbones gave her the illusion of utmost respect and entitlement that also happened to frame her face in the picture of elegance.  Her tan skin indicated that she definitely wasn’t from New York or anywhere without too much sun but with her blonde hair it was unlikely that her tan was too genetic.  It was wildly curly, stuck in a strange knot she had clearly done up at the last minute, even forgetting some pieces that were sticking out in ringlets that framed her perfect face, some of them even covering up her eyes.

Her eyes.

God, Percy didn’t even know what to think about her eyes or where to start. The sharp gray color like storm clouds that reflected a power he didn’t know a teenage girl could possess?  Or the sharp electricity of the calculating gaze they fixed him with?  Her eyes held an intensity unlike Percy had ever experienced and he found himself unable to pull away- matching her look with his own, and green and gray met in the middle, colliding in some sort of delightful chaos.  

Apparently, she had asked Percy a question- she was now looking at him under raised brows.

“Uh-” Percy managed out.  “Sorry, what?”

The girl opened her mouth as if to snap out a retort but quickly shut it tried again, her eyes slipping away from his for a second before returning.

“I asked if I could help you?” she asked, not kindly.  But Percy couldn’t have cared less considering that her voice was just about as perfect as her face- smoky and lower than a girls usually was.  He knew he could listen to it for hours.

“Hello?  Are you conscious?” 

Or- maybe not.  

Get it together Percy.

“Sorry I’m just- uh, never mind.  It’s so cold I think I have a brain freeze,” he tried.

She didn’t laugh, and he couldn’t say he was surprised.  But something in her features softened, making her look younger, and the cold sent a blush onto her cheeks.

“So...” she urged him.

“Oh!” he reached into the top of the box to pull out a white piece of paper.  “Uh, I’m supposed to give this to... Annabeth Chase?”  

The girl inhaled and held out her arms, letting them drop to her sides after a second.

“That’s me.”

Annabeth.  And of course, the name had to suit her perfectly, clearly chosen with thought about which two names to mesh together for a child intelligent enough to probably invent a new space shuttle.

“Great.”  Percy had managed to find his voice again.  “This is for you.  From my Mom.”  She fixed him with a bemused look and as an explanation, he said, “She’s the art teacher at Goode, and because of the stuff her AP students are doing she usually thinks its easier for them to use her own supplies instead of the crappy public school stuff.”

Annabeth had started nodding halfway through his sentence, clearly picking up the hint quickly enough and before Percy could move an inch, the box was out of his hands and in Annabeth’s arms.  She held the weight like it was nothing which Percy- due to the walk there- could say definitely wasn’t true.  

“You don’t have to-”

“I’ve got it,” she replied dismissively.  “Anything else?”

“Trying to get rid of me so quickly Chase?” he smirked to cover up how fast his heart was pounding as her eyes met his.

“Well you know what they say.  When you try and don’t succeed...” 

“Ouch!” Percy feigned an injury, clutching his numb hand to his shoulder as if he had been shot.  But Annabeth just rolled her eyes and Percy was able to catch the almost unrecognizable tilt to the side of her lip in a small smile.  A beat of warmth coursed through him at the sight.  “I was also sent to give you...” 

Percy picked up the tin container that was on the ground next to Annabeth’s feet.

“These.”

“What are they?” she asked, and her gray eyes took on a curious note.

“They’re your official welcome to the neighborhood- from my Mom.  They’re cookies, she makes the best batch you’ll ever taste.”  Annabeth’s mouth almost pulled into a smile before flattening out again and when she looked back at him- well, Percy didn’t know what to think.

She arched a brow.  “What if I said I’m allergic to gluten?”

Percy smiled, playing along.  “I’d say you’re an awful liar and a buzzkill.”

“And if I said I just don’t like chocolate chip cookies?”

“I’d say you’re a psychopath and a witch.  How did you know they’re chocolate chip?”  When Annabeth smiled, a piece of Percy’s heart seemed to chip off, leaving him breathless at how beautiful it was.

“I guess I can just read you like a book Jackson,” she shrugged then turned her back to him as she looked inside the house as if contemplating something.

“Well, I have to put this inside and I’d rather your Mom didn’t fail me for killing her son, so you can come in.”  She didn’t wait for his response before turning and strutting into her house, leaving Percy with no other option but to follow.

He closed the door behind him and relished the warmth of the massive house and before he could look around Annabeth was back at his side and grabbing the tin of cookies from him.  She opened the lid and took one out- pausing to observe it.

She adorably quirked an eyebrow upwards.  “Blue?”

Percy shrugged, scratching the back of his neck to cover up how red it probably was.

“What’s wrong with blue?”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with blue.  Your choice?” she assumed, and Percy could just nod.  She was sharp, he’d give her that.

He tried not to watch as she took a bite and her eyes widened a fraction. 

“Are you sure your mom is an art teacher and not God?  These are amazing!” Percy smiled and rolled his eyes, shrugging.  His first Annabeth Chase compliment, and it had been to his mother.  

“Every Mom has two things,” he said, and he watched as Annabeth’s gray eyes darkened a fraction.  

“No,” she said quietly, finishing off the cookie and dusting her fingers off.  “They don’t.”  Percy opened his mouth to say something but Annabeth had moved to the kitchen counter and was unpacking his mother’s box.

He glanced around the room in silence, his eyes quickly migrating to a painting he could have recognized anywhere.  His feet seemed to fly across the house quicker than ever to observe the painting and his jaw dropped as he realized-

“Annabeth.  Chase.” he managed out.

Annabeth spun around and one look at his face had her own turning cold and letting out a broken laugh.

“Of course you recognize the painting.  I keep forgetting you’re the son of an art teacher.”  Her feet were silent as she walked to stand next to him and observe the painting, her calculating gaze back on display.

“Your mother is Athena Chase?”  

“The one and only,” she replied without taking her eyes off of the painting.  Angry eyes.

Percy gaped at her, somehow even more impressed with the blonde girl in front of him.  If her mother was one of the best painters he had ever seen and she was in a college-level art class- he could only imagine how talented she was. “She’s amazing!  I mean- she painted The Eye of Nobody in-”

“Twenty minutes.  Yep, I’m aware.”  Annabeth’s eyes shot back to his and the fiery anger in them stopped him in his tracks.  “And if you’re just gonna stand there and gawk all day, you can look it up on the internet.  So if we’re done here...” she began walking towards the door and suddenly Percy was the angry one.  

He hadn’t said anything wrong.  So why was she suddenly so pissed at him?

The words were out before he could stop them.

“Do you have an issue with me?” 

Annabeth’s hand stopped on the handle of the door and she turned back to him, her gaze searing into his face.

“Did I say I have an issue with you?” she snapped.

“You seem like the type of girl who has an issue with everyone,” Percy shot back, suddenly sick of being Mr. Nice Guy.  

Since the moment she had opened the door, Annabeth had been colder than the ten-degree weather outside and Percy was just about sick of it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  Annabeth folded her arms in front of her and Percy could’ve felt the power and stubbornness in the stance all the way from North Korea, where he would much rather have been at this moment.

“That maybe if you stopped glaring for two seconds people might tolerate you.” The measly seconds that Annabeth had smiled- or even stopped glaring- had made Percy feel warmer than any present on Christmas day, and it seemed to be the one thing Annabeth refused to do.  

“Don’t flatter yourself into thinking I care what you think of me Jackson,” she scoffed, and damn if the sound didn’t make him want to kiss her annoying face.   Glaring at him in blind anger and she was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and Percy was starting to hate her for it.

“Bold of you to assume I was talking about me, Chase.  Maybe I was referring to whatever poor soul gets stuck walking next to you on the sidewalk.”

Her eyes flashed.

“It’s cute how ignorant you are.  Keep it up.  We wouldn’t want anyone to think the Jackson boy is anything less than perfect, now would we?”

“So you do think I’m cute?  At least you admit it,” Percy smirked.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, apparently done with this conversation.  Her mouth pulled into a cold smirk.  

“The only thing that I think is cute is your complete lack of knowledge about anything not having to do with your precious swim team,” she gestured to his Goode High Swimming hoodie, “or what skateboard you’re getting for Christmas this year,” she sneered.

“Oh because you think of much more important things,” he rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t need to meet you to know that I do, Jackson.”

He hid how the comment stung, unable to give her the high ground.

“Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say, Miss Chase.  We wouldn’t want you to end up on the naughty list.”  

Annabeth gave him a look of pure disgust and yanked the door open, grabbing his arm with so much force that Percy wasn’t ready for how fast he was thrown out the door.  Percy ignored the electricity her touch had felt like on his arm as he looked at her again.

“I’ll tell you exactly where you can shove your list.”  She arched her brow as if in a challenge and Percy couldn’t help it as a laugh burst out of his mouth and he caught the lift of Annabeth’s before she turned it back down again.  

“Well I have to say, bantering you has been fun, it really has.  I probably burnt off enough calories to eat an entire tin of cookies again.  But that being said, I am sad to announce that it’s time for me to make my departure.”

“An unfortunate event,” Annabeth replied in a monotone voice while rolling her eyes.

Percy ignored her comment.  “Aw don’t worry Wise Girl, I know you’ll miss me but no need to fret.  I’m sure our paths will cross once more.  So with these final words, I leave you.”

“Why, Jackson, do you insist on being such a royal pain in my ass?”

“Well I can’t very well be a peasant pain, now can I?  Have you seen this face?” 

Annabeth took a step out of the house until they were almost nose to nose, due to her being a step above his and Percy’s heart skipped a beat.  

“Indeed I have.  You better get going before I change my mind about getting an A and make some changes to that pretty face.  And say thank you to your Mom for me.  For the supplies-and the cookies.”  

Had she said something?  Percy was hardly listening with how close they were.  She smelled of lemon.  Of course, she had to smell like one of the best scents ever.  

“Well in that case,” Percy managed to get out.  

So Percy forced himself to step back and didn’t mistake the look of victory in the blonde’s eyes as he walked back to the front of her house where the mailbox sat.  He turned back one final time.

“I knew you thought I was pretty Wise Girl,” he called out with a wink, and Percy would’ve paid money to see her roll her eyes in such a humorous way again.

“Maybe I was pitying you.  ‘Tis the season and all that,” she shrugged, leveling him with a gaze he never wanted to break.

“Have fun with Max, Mrs. Grinch,” was all Percy said as he walked off without hearing the retort he knew she had ready on her tongue.  

Because she always had something to say.  Annabeth Chase could dish it out as well as she could take it and Percy had never met anyone like her.  She was witty and intelligent, and so damn beautiful that he couldn’t resist looking back just in time to see her turn to go back into the house.

And there was no mistaking the expression on her face as anything other than a true, gorgeous Annabeth Chase smile.  

And hell if Percy didn’t trip on his own feet and go careening straight into Mr. D’s massive pile of old snow that lay on the side of his house after seeing it. The snow shocked him enough to get out of Annabeth land long enough to dust off the snow and stand again, shaking the wet snow out of his hair when he heard the unmistakable voice of a certain blonde.

“I saw that Jackson!”  

‘Tis the season indeed.

~~

ahhhhh!!  that’s it!  i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it even though i totally strayed from my original idea of a cutie meet cute hehe my bad.  but hey, what’s percabeth without a little fighting right?  

anyway, thank you so, so much for reading and ily!

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

Kitten Ears - Part 2

Minghao x Cat Hybrid Female!Reader

Word Count: 2823

Tag List: @skjdln, @funinfundamental, @kwanismsworld, @taikalinna, @svt-mangos, @strawberry-artini, @lovesickmark, @cliffordmonarchy, @skylions-den, @karenbcy, @jisooderulo, @sleepy-star-boy, @brokenheartloving, @sno-leopards, @livorna, @jaehyunluvcult, @chanivity, @winktokki, @jqehyu

Contents: hybrid au, reader in heat, pillow humping, fingering

Dealing with your heat properly was absolutely better than waiting it out. You had been nervous when Joshua woke up, initially feeling a little awkward and unsure but he was nothing but kind. He let his hand rub your back and he gave you a sweet, loving look as he woke up, his sleepy voice calming you.

You felt like you should know this by now but you were surprised to find that for a couple of days your neediness was subdued. You could act normal and didn’t have the constant need for release gnawing at you so strongly. It was nice to have a break from it, even if you were sure the feeling would come back.

You were also thankful the others hadn’t asked about it. You decided you would ask Joshua when you needed help the next time. It seemed like a lot to ask him to help you out for the nearly three weeks you’d be in heat for but what other choice did you have? You didn’t really want to bother anyone else with it. And you didn’t need everyone in the house talking about it, even if you were sure they all knew.

Except that a few of days had gone by and your need was growing again. You didn’t want it to get as bad as last time and you knew your fever was back so you decided you would ask Joshua for help. You wandered down the hall in a large sweater and a pair of thin shorts. You figured he would know what you wanted pretty easily. You might not even have to say it.

Your tail swished and flicked nervously as you approached Joshua’s door. That fact that it was closed wasn’t a good sign, that usually meant he was out somewhere. The way your nose picked up on all of the scents in the hallway was doing nothing to help.

You knocked on his door and waited. A minute passed and you felt your stomach fill with ice. He wasn’t there. You didn’t know when he’d be back so you couldn’t just wait for him here. You wandered down the hallway trying to decide what to do. Before you could make up your mind though, something caught your attention at the end of the hallway.

Minghao’s door sat open but he wasn’t inside. You wandered into his room, wondering where he’d gone. He didn’t usually leave the door open like that. You breathed in his scent that was filling the room and hummed, letting your fingers drag over the soft fabric of his bedspread. The idea of waiting here for him was a little too nerve wracking, but the smell of the room was so intoxicating and the sheets felt so nice under your fingertips.

You bit your lip and stopped moving. You looked toward the door and listened, your ears twitching in the direction of the hall. No one was coming closer or walking nearby. Surly Minghao wouldn’t mind if you curled up on his bed for a bit, right?

You cautiously climbed onto the bed, sighing at the way the sheets felt against your hot skin. You crawled towards his pile of pillows and a shiver ran down your spine as your thigh dragged past the soft pillow. You let out a sigh and looked at the pillows, your tail twitching curiously. You rubbed your thigh against the pillow experimentally and a small whine escaped your lips at the small amount of friction it created.

You stopped moving again and looked towards the door, making sure no one was around. Again, no sounds came from the hallway. You shifted until one of his pillows was between your legs. You tried squeezing it between your thighs before shifting a little and letting out a soft yelp at the feeling of it rubbing between your legs. You rolled your hips slowly against the soft fabric at first, gripping his sheets and whimpering. You started to grind down on the pillow at a steady pace, panting slightly at the feeling.

You started to feel frustrated as you ground faster against the pillow. It felt good, but not good enough and you were getting more desperate by the minute. You slowed your movements and toyed with the waistband of your shorts. You bet it would feel even better if you took them off.

With your need building you didn’t spare much of a thought for anyone in the hallway as you rid yourself of the shorts and climbed back onto the pillow. You sighed as you settled onto it and started to roll your hips a little. Your sighs turned to gasps as you moved your hips even faster on the pillow. Your frustration and need grew more and more as your ground into the soft fabric, desperately needing your release.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a soft “o-oh,” coming from the doorway. You scrambled to grab the blanket and pull it over yourself as you gave Minghao a wide eyed stare. A blush was rising in his cheeks as he stared at you, clearly startled, and you tried to find the words to explain yourself.

“I-I d-didn’t, I-It’s n-not, y-y-you, I-I…”

A shy smile started to tug at Minghao’s lips. “Joshua did say your heat had started.”

You whined and pulled the blanket up over your head. This had to be the most embarrassing moment of your life. You heard him close the door softly and slowly pad across the floor to you and you whimpered, shaking slightly. You felt the bed dip as he sat next to you and he tugged the sheets down a little so he could see your face.

“I’m gonna guess you were looking for Joshua, how did you end up in here?”

You shifted awkwardly under his gaze. “Y-Your door was open a-and it smelled n-nice… s-so…” You could feel the heat on your face as you failed to meet his eyes.

“And how did you end up on my pillows?”

You tried to duck your head but he caught your chin, his fingers gentle as he tilted your head to look at him. “I’m not going to get mad at you,” he smiled sweetly, a slight pink tint on his cheeks. “I’m just trying to figure out how you ended up in here?”

Your voice was very quiet as you mumbled out an answer. “I was going to curl up and nap, b-but the pillows felt so good a-and my skin is really sensitive and the room smelled s-so good…”

“So you ended up humping my pillow?” he chuckled.

“I-I, w-what?”

He caught your confused look and his expression softened. “Did you really just discover pillow humping?”

You you felt heat rise in your cheeks and looked away from him but he brought your face back you look at him, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“It’s okay if you did,” he said softly. “I mean some people really like it, but you were looking a little frustrated.”

“I-It… I-I needed more.”

“I mean, if you can’t find anyone you could always use your fingers.”

This time you managed to pull your head away, hiding your face but knowing that your flattened ears and flicking tail were dead giveaways. “I don’t know how,” you whimpered.

“O-Oh… well I mean, I think you jus-”

“I don’t need an explanation!” you cried, giving him a look that pleaded with him not to continue. “I-I mean I know what you’re supposed to do. B-But I-I… I-I’m not sure…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, trying to calm you. “It’s a little intimidating if you’ve never tried.”

Minghao bit his lip as he seemed to think for a second. The tips of his ears were red as he spoke again.

“Do… Do you need some help?”

You bit your lip and squeezed your thighs around the pillow. The pillow humping had only turned you on more and you didn’t know when Joshua would be back. You were pretty helpless on your own and his room smelled so good. He smelled so good.

You nodded slowly and he slid closer to you, pulling the blanket down. You shifted your sweater to cover yourself, flustered. He pressed a kiss to your cheek as he slowly pulled the pillow out from under you. You let out a whine as the soft fabric slide past your core.

He tried to stifle his snicker as he inspected the pillow, Your cheeks heated up and your ears flattened against your head as you noticed the wet spot he was giggling at.

“I-I didn’t mea-”

“I know,” he said calmly. “I doubt you were thinking about that.” He shifted himself even closer to you, fully facing you now, and brought a hand to your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him. “Although, it’s kind of cute that you like all of our scents so much, but here you are putting yours all over my bed.”

Before you had a chance to duck your head he caught your lips in a gentle kiss. You relaxed very slowly as he laid you back to rest against the remainder of the soft pillows. You liked how he kissed you. He was just as soft as Joshua, but with a different kind of sweetness. His thumb on your cheek caressed your skin softly and he brought his other hand to rest against your waist.

He pressed himself a little closer to you, deepening the kiss and playing with your hair a little. You smiled softly into the kisses, your arms around his neck pulling him closer. You were doing your best to enjoy the sweet moment, but the growing need between your legs was doing nothing to help that. You found yourself wiggling your hips and pressing your thighs together and whining when you couldn’t get any of the friction you desperately needed.

Minghao pulled back, a slight grin pulling at his glossy lips, and a rosy pink hue dusting his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, you need some actual relief, don’t you?” he hummed.

You nodded, not quite meeting his eyes as you did. His lips found yours again and you willed yourself to get lost in the kisses instead of focusing on the mix of nerves and anticipation in your stomach as he hand slid down to your hip and along your bare skin. He let his fingers trail slowly along your thigh a few times before gently pushing your legs apart a bit. You barely noticed that you had tensed until he stopped his hand, just resting it on your inner thigh.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his face still very close to yours.

“Mhm,” you knew your hum sounded a little nervous but you took a deep breath, trying to relax. “It’s just… all really new.”

He nodded thoughtfully before kissing you again. His fingers trailed a little closer to your core and he chuckled as you moved your hips, almost impatiently. While your mind was still easily flustered, your body was begging for some kind of relief.

Minghao trailed his fingers along the uppermost part of your inner thigh before slowly bringing two fingers to your clit. You gasped at the feeling, gripping him tightly and kissing him a little harder as he moved his fingers in slow motions around your clit. 

You let your hips follow his movements, rolling into his hand. He swallowed all of your soft moans with his lips, shifting little by little how he moved his fingers to find what you liked the best. You felt more and more heat pooling between your legs as he worked you up steadily and you nearly whined when his fingers left your clit, dragging slowly through your folds instead.

You let out a small yelp as he ran his finger along the edge of your entrance and he pulled back quickly, clearly startled.

“I-I didn’t know y-y-you w-wanted t-t-t-”

“I don’t have to,” he said quickly, his ears bright red. “I didn’t mean to startle you I can do something else, I just thought-”

“Do you think…” you cut him off, trying to voice the thought that had popped into your head before your nerves got the better of you. “I-I mean it should… feel good, right?”

He blinked at you as he took in your words. “Joshua didn’t finger you…” he said slowly. “So, this is brand new?”

You avoided his gaze. “You can laugh if you want…” you sighed.

“Hey,” he caught your attention again. “I’m not going to. I… Do you want to try something new today?”

You bit your lip before nodding slowly, curious about how it would make you feel. Minghao was already being so gentle with you and your mind was more and more clouded with lust every second.

He leaned back in slowly, his lips finding yours again. He brought his fingers to your clit again and moved them in slow circles as you relaxed again. He let his other hand trail up into your hair as he started to play with the base of your ear. You let out a mewl at the feeling.

He let his fingers drag through your folds slowly before bringing one finger back to your entrance. Minghao’s lips trailed to your jaw and he left gentle kisses along your skin.

“Just breath,” he murmured. “And tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

You nodded, whimpering and knowing you needed relief. Minghao slowly pushed his finger inside of you and you gripped him a little more tightly, gasping at the new feeling. He let you adjust to it and take a few breaths before he started to curl his finger slowly while he pumped into you shallowly. 

High mews fell from your lips as your hips rolled gently, trying to match his movements. You felt him smile against your skin before sucking on your neck. You let your head fall back against the pillows and let out soft moans. You loved the feeling but you knew you needed more from him. You gripped his shirt tightly, hoping he’d get the hint.

Minghao pulled back and looked at you, searching your face for signs of discomfort. “Do you want me to slow down?”

You felt your cheeks burning yet again as you shook your head. “I-I need more…”

There was a hint of smugness in the grin that tugged at his lips before he found a new spot on your neck to suck on. You let out a gasp as he brought his thumb to your clit, slowly circling it as he pulled his finger out of you.

“It’ll feel different,” he murmured, lining up his fingers and teasing your entrance with the promise of more. “It’ll stretch, but tell me if it hurts, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed, far too needy and full of anticipation to stop.

A small gasp fell from your lips as Minghao pressed two fingers into you slowly. Your grip on his shoulders tightened and he let his thumb draw languid circles around your clit as you adjusted to the slight stretch. You started to whimper quietly and Minghao took the hint, starting to move his fingers.

You let out soft, high pitched moans and mews as Minghao thrust his fingers into you, turning them and curling them carefully until he brushed past a spot that had you moaning out embarrassingly loudly. He grinned against your warm skin and passed over the spot with each movement, his thumb pressing a little harder and his fingers moving a little faster.

Your voice climbed higher and you whined as you felt your body tightening. You dug your sharp nails into Minghao’s shoulders and whined, trying to signal to him how close you were. He shifted his lips on your neck and sucked harshly and you let out a moan as you reached your release, waves of pleasure crashing over you as your body started to shake.

You started to pant and weakly pushed Minghao’s fingers away, struggling to open your eyes and look up at him. You were greeted with the image of him sucking your release off of his fingers and you quickly hid your face in his pillows. Minghao chuckled at your reaction as you tried not to dwell on the image, no matter how hot you thought it was.

You felt Minghao lie down beside you and you peeked at him, curling a little closer to him. You could smell that he was a little worked up but you didn’t want him to leave the bed. You wrapped your tail around him and he pulled you closer as you nuzzled against his neck.

“Do you feel better?” he hummed.

You nodded, purring. “It felt so good,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Good,” you could hear the smile in his voice as you drifted off to sleep.

[coppercatwrites]

Save Me - Sherlock x Reader

Chapter 7: Old Friend

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader Word Count: 1,581 Synop: Meeting with client #2 Tag List: @reveluvspecial​ @ravencatart​ @germansarechill​ @bakerstreethound​ @sassy-potato-yall​ @melanoms​

Sherlock huffs. “I look ridiculous.” 

You laugh as you watch him check himself out in the mirror. Ginger colored hair, fake glasses, a grey shirt, and black pants. 

“You look good with Ginger—”

“Auburn.”

“Auburn colored hair. You still need the mustache though.” 

“No.” He pushes past you out of the bathroom and into the sitting room. “I will not wear one of those.” 

You huff. “I know you wouldn’t look good in it. It’s for your own safety. He knows far too many people. I would like to assume he already knows who you are.” 

He pushes up his glasses. 

Already fallen into the part I guess.

“You talk like you know him.”

You pause. “Well duh, I attempted a hit for him.” 

“That’s not what I mean.” His arms cross above his chest, eyes searching into yours. “You knew him more than a client. An old friend perhaps?” 

Turning away from Sherlock, you look over your shoulder. “Just be ready in an hour. If we get there early, it will help keep your profile.” 

Face burning, you hop down the stairs and pass John. “I’m going out for coffee. Would you like anything?” Your hand holds the knob of the door. 

“No, but please take this.” He hands you some cash. 

You squint at the money. “I’m surprised you're letting me go, actually.” 

John smiles. “Would you have stayed if I told you to?” 

Folding the money in your pocket, you smirk. “You’re right, I would have gone anyway. Thanks for the money.” 

After walking past the door, you find your way to the post office. You pluck an envelope from the shelf and drop in a keychain with the letter ‘H’. You also throw in a red bus that has the words ‘Welcome To London' plastered on the side. With a smile, you buy a stamp and send out the letter to your mother. 

Just as you enter the coffee shop, an unpleasant feeling washes over you. While standing in line, you make eye contact with a man sitting at a booth. 

Shit… I should have listened to John.

You turn out of the coffee shop and run into the most crowded area. From there, you get back to Baker Street as fast as you possibly could. Whipping the door open, you rush inside and up the stairs. Sherlock and John both hop out of their chairs. 

“What—”

“I hope you're both ready because we need to leave. Now.” 

John, Sherlock, and yourself leave 221B and hop into a cab. You pull out a wallet and toss it to the driver. His eyes widen at the excessive amounts of orange notes within the leather.

“Leave us your car, and I swear I’ll return it with more money.” 

The cabbie gets out and you hop into the front seat. With multiple twists and turns, you end up a block away from your meeting site. An abandoned factory.

John clears his throat. “Do I want to know who’s wallet that was?”

You smirk. “No.”

He huffs. “Okay, what happened when you went out for coffee?” 

“I saw someone.” 

“Who?” 

The abrupt stop of the cab makes sherlock and john slide forward into the driver and passenger seats. You turn and hand Sherlock a small microphone to hold in his pockets. “This is so we can hear you in case there’s trouble. He should be there soon.” 

Sherlock eyes you with a suspicious look before he exits the cab and walks into the building. You watch his retreating form as you hand John an earbud. Putting in your own, you turn the volume up. 

“So, who did you see when you went for coffee?” 

You huff. “Not the time, John. Maybe later.” 

Through the earbud, you hear a door opening and closing. The sound of footsteps grow closer. “You’re early.” 

Sherlock clears his throat and puts up a fake accent. “I thought it best to be early, Sir.” 

“Sir?” the man scoffs. “We’re both adults here, let's go by our users.”

“Shadow, where can I find the woman you’re looking for?” 

The man shakes his head. “I’m going to frisk you first. Pat ya down.” 

You hear a huff over the mic before the sound of ruffling clothing.  “Very well.” 

Back in the cab. John shakes his head. “He’s gonna find the mic. It’s not well hidden.” 

“Have faith, John.” 

Over the earbuds, the ruffling stops. “What’s this? Numbers, I’d say you’re trying to record me.” 

“Sorry ‘bout the confusion. I like to record my research from the lab. Left it in my pocket by accident.” 

After a beat of silence, a piercing scream blasted into your earpieces before nothing but static can be heard. 

You throw your earpiece to the other side of the cab while John tosses his to the floor. “We need to get in there! He could be in trouble!” 

“John, I have nothing to defend myself with. What am I supposed to do in an empty warehouse to help sherlock?” 

“Stay. Behind. Me.” 

 John opens the door with his gun out and clears the hall. Slowly stalking forward, you hear muffled speaking coming from the open warehouse. You peak your head around the door and see Sherlock and the client. 

“So are we at a deal, Shadow?” 

“Wait a minute now, numbers. You sure you’re up for this?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because.” The client smirks and pulls a gun.  “Sherlock Holmes, your record will be very dirty when you’re done.” 

You see his Adam's apple bob and his eyebrows twitch. “What makes ya think I’m Mr. Holmes?”

The client yells out into the warehouse. “If you don't come out on my count of three, I’m going to shoot Mr. Holmes in the head. One.” 

“Ay, you don't have to do that, I’m not Sherlock Holmes. I have a badge from work and everything!” 

“Two.”

You spring from your hiding position when John holds out his arm to block you. Your shoe hits his chest as you push him back from you. 

“Nick, stand down! He’s not who you want to kill.” 

“Ah, there she is. I knew I saw you at the coffee shop.” 

With a hand on Sherlock's chest, you turn to face the client. “This is between us. No more cat and mouse.” 

John scrambles out of his hiding place to stand next to Sherlock. His gun pointed at Nick.  

Just as you’re about to speak, Nick holds up his finger. “Just a second, I need to go get something. Would you mind waiting?” 

He opens the door and walks into a room. When he comes out, he’s accompanied by a little boy with noise-canceling earmuffs. 

John’s grip on his gun falters. “Oh, god. A child.” 

“Mommy! ” 

Nick holds the boy in front of him, gun a few inches away from the back of his head. 

Sherlock’s eyebrows crease. “Mommy?” 

You grit your teeth while your eyes grow moist. “You son of a bitch.” 

He smirks and directs his attention to Sherlock and John. “She didn’t tell you she had a son? Yeah, me neither.” 

“Henry isn’t a part of this, let him go home.” 

“What home? You stole something from me. It’s only fair I steal something from you.”  

John sucks in a breath and aims his gun to the ground. Sherlock studies the face of the terrified boy. 

“Your mom didn’t put up much fight. Doesn’t surprise me though. She was always weak.” 

The rumble of Sherlock’s chest against your fingers nearly made you jump. “Let the boy go, we can talk this out like intellectuals.” 

Nick chuckles. “ I trained you, (y/n). I loved you. How could you leave me?” 

“I know, Nick. I’m sorry.”

He pauses and aims the gun back at Henry. “If you’re sorry, why did you hide my son from me.” 

“I tried not to hide him from you. I hid him from everyone else. I was afraid of him getting hurt.” 

“We could have protected him together. Like what family is supposed to do.”

A few tears drip down your face. “I see that now and I’m sorry. I—” you take a shaky breath in. “I still love you.” 

Nick’s grip on the gun falters and his finger rests away from the trigger. His gaze moves to the floor. 

“Nick, I think you should put the gun down. We can be a family again.” 

Your eyes soften as your hand flattens out over your lower abdomen. “I don’t want to lose this one. I hope it's a girl.” 

Sherlock’ s wide eyes look from Nick to you and back again. You hear him start to speak under his breath.

“You’re n—” You elbow him in the stomach.

John’ s eyebrows furrow as he mumbles something under his breath. 

Nick smiles widely and lets go of Henry. “I’m gonna be a father of two.” 

You lower yourself into a crouch as Henry’s body collides with yours. As you hold your son, Sherlock rushes to step in front of you. The pop of John's gun makes you glad you kept the earmuffs on Henry. 

John holds pressure on Nick’s shoulder wound. When he turns to Sherlock, he sighs. “Take them home. I’ll be sure Lestrade and an ambulance get here.” 

You stand up, Henry wrapped around your neck and waist, and walk back out to the taxi. Sherlock hops in the driver's seat, his eyes between you and the road the whole way back to 221B.

Next chapter: ---> 

[whoisbxcky]

After School Special

request: Your writing is amazing!!!! I have a request for a peter Parker imagine where the reader has healing powers and he falls for her and he gets hurt on a mission and she rushes in to save him and she heals him and the gets hurt and peter carries her out and stays by her side the whole time? Sorry if that was confusing

pairing: peter parker x reader (!!reader and peter both 16 in this fic!!)

word count: 3500 +/-

warnings: reader suffering from anxiety and a lil panic attack thrown in the mix, some angst but a lot of fluff also, descriptive violence, gunshot wound

author’s note: Okay first ever Peter Parker fic, apologies if it’s a little iffy (especially at the end- i flopped lol) I really struggled getting this one written despite the fact it ended up being uber long by my standards! I think I struggle writing for Peter purely because of the ‘trying to get into the mindset of a teenager’ thing lmao. 

But as always, feedback welcomed and appreciated, big huge thank you to anon for the request, and I am currently accepting requested so hit that inbox my lovelies! ~ Toria <3

“You ready for your first ever mission tonight, Y/N?”

You practically jumped out of your skin, your head crashing into the top of your locker with a sickening thwack.

With a groan of pain, you spun on your heel, murderous eyes fixating on Peter Parker, who was now stood staring at you with a mixture of shock and fear etched rather comically on his face.

“Well, geez, Peter. Hard to say, you think I can manage it with a concussion?”

You softened your gaze, shaking your head with a rueful smile as you brought a hand tentatively to your head and letting it rest over the knot that was rapidly growing there.

You let your eyelids flutter shut, summoning a warm, white light to your palm and allowing the healing energy to envelop your injury, smiling softly as you did.

When you opened your eyes, your head felt good as new, and you were met with Peter’s wide, curious gaze.

You frowned at him then, raising your brow dubiously as he continued to stare. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, you cleared your throat, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Something the matter?”

Peter blinked a few times, his cheeks donning an unmistakable pink hue as his gaze shifted anywhere and everywhere that wasn’t your face. You strained to contain an eye roll as your fellow Avenger stuttered uselessly for a minute.

“I… Well no… No, it’s just… Well… Mr. Stark said we shouldn’t use our powers just out in the open like that and well…”

He trailed off, swallowing hard as you fixed him with your best ‘keep-going-and-I’ll-flatten-you’ stare. You had to hand it to the guy, usually when you gave people that look, they turned tail and got as far away as possible from you in the other direction.

“Well, what Mr. Stark doesn’t know won’t land me with another lecture, now will it, Peter?”

You folded your arms, flashing him with a conspirator’s grin.

“Besides, you’re the one announcing tonight’s mission to the whole school.”

You raised your brows, turning to slam your locker shut before grinning at him once more, taking off towards the school exit, after a few beats, you heard Peter scrambling to catch up with you.

The two of you discussed the task ahead of you in hushed tones as you left the school building and hastily made your way across campus. You tried to focus on the conversation at hand, but the nausea gripping your stomach at the thought of your first ever mission made it increasingly difficult.

It had been a year since Tony Stark had found you and recruited you.

A whole year of missing school dances, mall dates with your friends, even class sometimes, in the interest of training to become one of the Earth’s ‘mightiest’ heroes.

You winced at the thought.

After the alien invasion in NYC back in 2012, footage had emerged of an eleven-year-old you healing wounded civilians, an ability you had been entirely unaware of possessing up until that day.

You’d thought nothing of it at the time, given that the video quality was… questionable, at best, and you magically healing the wounded was far from the strangest thing to have occurred in NYC that day.

And, despite the magical healing hands, you had done a spectacular job at being a regular old, boring high school student. Right up until Stark had shown up on your doorstep and told you the Avenger’s needed your unique skill set, and you had found yourself agreeing, against your better judgement.  

Now here you were, a year into your training and about to embark on your first ever mission as a fully-fledged Avenger.

Oh joy.

Your inner musings were interrupted by Peter’s distant voice, alerting you to the fact you had arrived at the tower. You had been so lost in thought, you hadn’t even registered getting into the car Tony had sent for you both.

You reluctantly made your way up to the briefing room, nervously chewing on your thumbnail as Steve hit you with the ‘health and safety come first’ speech, in between briefing you for the mission at hand.

The task was simple: you, Peter, Sam and Wanda would head to a warehouse housing a Hydra sleeper cell, you would infiltrate the building, eliminate any threats and gather as much intel as you could. Easy-peasy. What could go wrong?

A few hours later, the Quinjet was parked up a little way away from the warehouse, and you and Peter were stood just outside the sole entrance, neither of you saying a word.

Sam and Wanda had gone inside already to do a primary sweep, ordering the two of you to wait outside as backup, as well as taking out any hostiles that may try to flee.

Five minutes had past, and the silence was becoming deafening. You could see Peter out of the corner of your eye, his body poised and ready, his focus absolute.

You let out a defeated sigh, before clearing your throat, your eyes fixated on the pebble you were kicking around at your feet.

“They’ve been in there for a while… You think they’re alright?”

You glanced up to find Peter’s perplexed expression staring back at you, sighing again, you continued.

“I mean I know they’re the professionals and all… But shouldn’t they be back by now? What if something’s gone wrong and they-“

You were cut off in surprise as a gentle hand on your shoulder caused you to flinch. When your eyes snapped up once more, Peter was stood just inches from you, a soft smile on his face and warmth in his eyes.

“They’ll be just fine, Y/N. We’re Avengers, this mission will be a piece of cake, you’ll see.”

You felt an uncomfortable heat rising in your cheeks and you studiously averted your eyes, clearing your throat in embarrassment.

“Oh… Of course.”

Peter chuckled then, offering you a boyish grin before your amicable exchange was interrupted by the sound of shouting, followed by gunfire, followed by an explosion.

As the two of you whipped around to face the warehouse, you half registered the fact that Peter had your hand in his and had pulled you to stand behind him. But the sound of Sam’s panicked voice over the coms kept you from thinking too much about it.

“Parker, Y/L/N, we need backup, now. Get in here-“

There was more gunfire, a yell, and the coms cut off. You felt your stomach drop.

You stumbled slightly as your arm was pulled forward, and you yanked it back, your wide eyes meeting Peter’s.

“Y/N? Let’s go, they need us!”

“I… I can’t…”

Peter stared at you incredulously, glancing back at the warehouse that was now half on fire. More gunshots. More yelling.

“Our teammates are in danger, we have to-“

“I know! But I… I can’t do it, I…”

You could feel the ice-cold jaws of panic latch around your throat, making breathing feel almost impossible. You looked around frantically for a way out, but only found the chaos unfolding in front of you.

Peter let out a breath of despair, before turning on his heel and running into the building ahead of you. You moved to call him back but found that the words would not leave your throat. They were trapped there, fear holding them in place and making you choke.

I can’t do this… I’m not a hero. I’m just a sophomore for gods sake. I should be doing homework right now, making weekend plans with friends… Not running into a burning building to risk my life fighting god knows what…

You let out a sob of frustration, falling to your knees in the gravel, your hands coming up to grip your hair desperately. Your breathing was erratic, and you knew you were having a panic attack.

As you willed your breathing to slow, trying to find a calm place in your mind, Peter’s face materialised in your thoughts. You found your mind subconsciously wandering back to the first day you met in the Avenger’s Tower, your surprise at learning your classmate was the infamous Spider-man...

“I can’t believe it, Peter Parker, a hero… And… Part spider…?”

Peter gave a short barking laugh, and you flashed him a sharp-toothed grin. The two of you were sat on the balcony of the Avenger’s tower, the day of your recruitment. Despite the fact you were both freshman at the same school, it was the first time you’d ever conversed with the guy.

“I mean, yeah, you could say that. Here, check this out…”

He grinned at you then, his eyes twinkling in the growing darkness around you. With a flick of his wrist, a strand of web shot out, attaching to the rafter above you. Next thing you knew, he had pulled himself up on the web and was now dangling upside down in front of you, waving his free arm in a mock ‘ta-dah’ fashion.

You grinned at him once more, overcome with a fit of giggles as he let himself drop back to the ground, tripping over the chair as he did.

“Very cool. Doesn’t it scare you though? Putting your life at risk for complete strangers like you do…?”

You trailed of, worrying your lip between your teeth as you stared out onto the skyline. Peter paused for a moment before responding, his gaze moving from the view to rest fondly on you.

“I guess a little… But you got to do what you got to do, right?”

“I suppose… but why you? I mean… There’s a whole tower of heroes here, couldn’t you just… Not? You know, have a normal life?”

Peter chuckled then, and you slid your gaze from the city below to find his eyes fixated on you, and you smiled shyly at him.

“The way I see it? Those with the power to make a difference who chose not to, are just as bad as the bad guys.”

You stared at him for a beat, his words settling deep in your subconscious. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he hopped to his feet, offering you a hand.

“Come on, let’s go check out the cinema room.”

Your eyes lit up, and you accepted his hand as he pulled you to your feet, steadying you with a hand on your waist.

“You guys have a cinema room here!?”

Peter’s laugh mingling with your own faded into the darkness of your subconscious once more, a nearby blast drawing you out of your memories.

You found yourself back on your feet, breathing even once more and a new-found resolve coursing through your veins.

Peter was right, you were afraid, and that was okay. But if you let your fear win and abandoned your teammates right now, you didn’t deserve to call yourself an Avenger.

Sprinting towards the now half destroyed warehouse, you paused for a moment to pick up a nearby steal pipe that was laying in the gravel, likely thrown there in one of the explosions. You may have healing powers, but combat lessons had not been your strong suit, so you hadn’t bothered to bring a weapon with you, other than some knuckle dusters that Natasha had gifted you and a mace from Rhodey.

As you entered the building, your senses were momentarily overloaded. You could see Wanda facing off against an armada of automatic weaponry, bullets raining down on her in succession. Sam was off to your right, engaged with a particularly large man with a suit that echoed Tony’s Iron-man get up. And there, in front of you, Peter was taking on the bulk of the Hydra forces, dipping and weaving to avoid their gunfire while taking them out one-by-one.

A yell to your left alerted you to an incoming hostile, and you cried out in determination as you swung the pipe at the man’s face, knocking him out and onto his back.

You ducked behind a slab of concrete to your right as gunfire peppered the wall behind you, cursing as a stray bullet whizzed past your ear, far too close for comfort.

With a grimace, you stood up, ready to throw yourself back into the fray, when Sam’s voice screaming down the coms made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Grenade, everyone down!”

You threw yourself back behind the concrete slab, your heart stopping in your chest as a deafening boom went off from the other side of the room. You were vaguely aware of debris, fire and the occasional body flying over your head, and you screwed your eyes closed.

You thought things couldn’t get any worse than this, surely, they couldn’t get worse.

You were wrong.

“Peter is down!”

Wanda’s panicked tone came crackling over the coms and you felt bile rise in your throat.

Without thinking, you clambered to your feet, steel pipe abandoned. You stumbled over concrete, bodies and scrap metal as you blindly made your way over to where you had last seen your friend.

“Peter!?”

You heard a voice screaming and took a moment to realise it was your own, horse and cracking with fear as you scrambled to find him amongst the wreckage on the far side on the room.

There, a flash of red and blue under a few wooden beams.

“Peter!”

You called out for him, rushing to his side as you began to dig him out of the rubble. You almost sobbed in relief when he let out a groan of disapproval, helping you shift the largest beam from his torso. He glanced up at you with a lopsided grin, although the pain in his eyes was unmistakable.

“You came.”

You stared back at him, the relief at him being alive giving way to worry for the wounds he had clearly sustained in the explosion.

“I did. Hold still while I fix you up.”

Without another word, you placed your hands gingerly on his chest, willing the warm, white light to manifest in your palms and spread throughout Peter’s whole body.

You heard him gasp and felt his whole body relax, as tendrils of your focused energy reached out throughout his wounded form, finding cuts, breaks and bruises and restoring them as you went.

Once you were done, you summoned the white light back into your palms, sagging forward in exhaustion as your eyelids fluttered open.

Peter sat up, entirely healthy once more, to catch your shoulders.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You smiled up at him weakly, nodding.

“Mhm. I’ve just never healed that many injuries all at once before, it’s… Taken it out of me a little”

He gave you a warm smile back, and a whistle from behind you made you both spin around to attention. You found Sam and Wanda heading your way, delicately navigating the warehouse floor.

“You two alright?”

Sam called out, fixing you with a concerned look.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Peter called back, hopping to his feet and offering you a hand up, which you gladly accepted. You felt completely drained, both from the adrenaline that was now depleting in your blood stream and the expended energy, but you managed to hold yourself up steadily in front of your fellow Avengers.

“Good. That seems to be the last of them. Let’s get to the control room, get those damn files and get the hell out of dodge.”

Sam started walking towards a gaping hole in the wall behind you, which you recalled from the building’s blueprints would lead to a concrete bunker under the warehouse. Everyone nodded in agreement, moving to follow him.

You had only taken a few steps when the sound of a gunshot rang out, thunderously loud in the silence of the decimated room.

Everything seemed to happen at half-speed then.

Your eyes caught the flash of the sniper rifle on one of the corridors above you.

Wanda, without missing a beat, captured the perpetrator in a net of red energy, launching him from the balcony and through a hole in the warehouse roof.

There was a deafening ringing in your ears, making the world around you feel blurry. You became numbly aware of the sensation of warm liquid running down your arm and chest, freezing in terror as you glanced down to see a stream of red on your tactical vest.

You’d just been shot.

Your legs gave out from under you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in shock. However, the feeling of your body hitting concrete never came.

Instead, when you opened your eyes once more you found yourself in Peter’s arms, his face twisted in fear, panic and rage as he called to you, telling you to hold on, to stay awake.

You could hear Sam telling Wanda to fetch the first aid kit while he started up the Quinjet to extract you.

Wanda’s voice in your mind telling you to stay awake, that you’d be okay.

You took in a shaky breath, willing your voice to return to you as the ringing in your ears finally subsided, and everything became clear once more.

“Stop!”

You half-croaked, half-yelled. Your fellow Avengers stopped dead in their tracks, staring at you in confusion.

Peter grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he held you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re fine, okay? You’re fine-“

“It’s not that.”

You winced as a fit of coughing racked your trembling form, and you met each of your teammates’ stares with a determined one of your own.

“We have a mission to complete. You guys go and get the files.”

Stares of confusion turned to disbelief, and it was Wanda who finally broke the stunned silence.

“That bullet has torn through your chest, Y/N, you need assistance right now.”

You coughed again, struggling to sit up, but Peter held you firmly down in his arms, moving to speak before you cut him off.

“I can stem the bleeding with what’s left of my energy. That’ll keep me going while you guys do what we came here for.”

You met Sam’s gaze, your eyes burning with fierce resolve, and he nodded slowly.

“Alright then, Parker, you get her outside and into the Quinjet ready to go. We’ll be as fast as possible. Y/N, you hang tough until we get back, you hear?”

You nodded in response, offering him a small smile as he and Wanda took off running down the corridor.

Peter followed by scooping you up in his arms bridal style, murmuring reassurances to you as he briskly navigated your way back through the debris and out of the warehouse. You let your head fall against his chest, focusing your energy on the part of your chest the bullet had gone through.

By the time you were both safely aboard the Quinjet, you had successfully stopped the bleeding and made a haphazard attempt at patching the skin up, but given the complete lack of energy you now possessed, it was far from your finest work.

Peter gently lowered himself to the floor, keeping you securely in his arms and bringing you to settle in his lap. When he finally spoke, his voice held an unmistakable waiver of emotion, and you glanced up to see the worry mixed with pride etched on his face as he spoke.

“That, what you did back there, Y/N… That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He smiled gently down at you, reaching up to your face to move a stray strand of hair from your eye, you smiled in response.

“Honestly, I just thought to myself: what would Peter do? The confidence came naturally after that.”

You grinned up at him, wincing as a giggle bubbled up in your throat.

Peter began to chuckle in turn, shaking his head with a dazed smile.

“First official day as an Avenger, and you take a bullet to the chest. That’s pretty badass, you know.”

You smirked, the pain from your wound subsiding as you lost yourself in oak-brown of his eyes.

“Badass enough to take you on, I think. What do you say, sparring session when we get back?”

“Oh, it’s a date, Y/N!”

You both burst into a fit of laughter, half delirious with exhaustion, half relieved at having survived the day.

Despite your fear, despite your doubts, despite getting shot on your first day on the job, you became absolutely clear of one thing in the safety of Peter’s grasp.

With him by your side, you had the strength to be an Avenger.

[yume-x-hanabi]

Family - Chapter 2

Translation of chapter 2 of the short story from the ToX2 scenario book. (Ch.1 here.)

CW: injuries (burns), mentions of murder

--

Chapter 2

When they got home, the siblings piled up their ingredients in the kitchen. Ludger picked up the coat that Julius had thrown on the floor and put it on a hanger.

“This is the first time I'm going to eat your cooking,” he said.

“Well, this is the first time I'll be cooking,” Julius replied.

“Huh?”

Julius rolled up his sleeves then washed his hands in the sink.

“I guess a knife and a sword are not that different…”

He washed two knives and swung them to dry them. The droplets splashed in the form of a cross.

“Wow!” Ludger’s face was full of expectation. “What are you going to cook, Julius?”

“Tomato sauce pasta. That was your mother’s best dish.”

“Tomato sauce pasta!”

“Can you hand me that big pot?”

“Yes!”

Ludger used both hands to grab a pot that looked about half as big as him, and handed it to his brother. Julius took it casually with one hand, filled it with water, and turned on the stove.

“Just sit and watch.”

 His skill was very flashy. As he’d just said, Julius considered kitchen knives and swords to be the same—they both had sharp edges, after all.

He cut the garlic into thin slices, hitting the knife on the chopping board in a nice rhythm. Julius manipulated two knives with ease: delicately when mincing cayenne peppers, boldly when chopping tomatoes and onions to make the sauce. Aware of his brother observing him with bated breath, Julius threw the bacon in the air. Blades glistened, a blast of air blew. The next moment, cuts ran through the block of bacon, and slices of equal thickness fell on the board neatly.

“Awesome! You’re amazing, Julius!”

“Time Disintegration—kitchen version.”

“Is it really the first time you’ve cooked?”

“Your mother told me that cooking is all about wanting to make something good for a special someone. So I thought there was no point to cook for myself… Ugh…” Julius suddenly frowned. Seeing the moisture in the corner of his eyes, Ludger grew worried.

“Are you crying?”

“…It’s the onions. They’re making my eyes sting.”

Julius shut his eyes and let the tears fall, then tried to wipe them, but…

“Oww…!”

The onion residues on his fingers further irritated his eyes. Julius tried to remain calm, but the pain only increased. Ludger took out a handkerchief from his pocket and thrust it into his hand.

“Thanks…”

“You’re welcome. Are you all right?”

“Yes. Sorry, can you put the pasta into the pot?”

“Sure.”

When Ludger looked at the table, he saw that there were two types of pasta: long spaghetti and flat linguine.

“Which ones should I use?”

“Choose. You can pick the quantity too.”

“Okay…”

Ludger hesitated a moment, but eventually picked the spaghetti and emptied the whole bag into the pot. Shortly after, the pasta softened and started floating in the hot water.

Besides him, Julius finally recovered from the onion’s attack on his senses and sighed. He poured olive oil into a pan, and because the stove was hot, the oil quickly started to emit white smoke. Julius threw the garlic, onions and tomatoes into the pan all at once.

When the watery vegetables hit the boiling hot oil, they scattered in all directions with a crackling sound.

“Hot!!”

Some of the oil sputtered and hit Julius’ cheek. As revenge, Julius flattened the vegetables in the pan with a wooden spoon. The garlic was rapidly darkening while the onions were still white. Tomatoes withered as they lost their water. When Julius noticed that the garlic was turning into charcoal, he panicked and added the bacon to the pan immediately.

Though it was a bit… no, actually, very different from the smell that opened their appetite on the way home, the good smell of meat frying filled the kitchen. However, Julius felt that there was a problem. The wooden spoon got caught on something. The contents of the pan didn't move as smoothly as before. The ingredients burned and stuck to the bottom of the pan.

“Maybe there is not enough oil…”

Julius grabbed the olive oil bottle with one hand and uncapped it with his thumb, then poured it into the hot pan with an arc-like motion.

Whoosh.

The next moment, a huge flame rose from the pan. Even the handle was burning.

“Woah!”

“Julius!”

“Ludger, stay away!”

Julius frantically tried to stir the contents of the pan, and hit them with the spoon to quell the fire, to no avail.

Pshhhh.

“What now?”

When he looked over to the pasta pot, he saw foam boil over the top of the pot. Without thinking, he extended his hand toward the handle.

“Hot!!” Julius yelled, jerking away.

Now writhing in agony, there was no trace of the splendor he displayed while he was cutting the vegetables. Swords and knives might have been similar, but cooking and swordsmanship were pretty different.

The kitchen was filled with thick smoke and vapor, and it was very hot. Seeing Julius dodge the steam while attempting desperately to put out the fire, Ludger stood up to help. Protecting his hands with pot-holders, he headed toward the overboiling pot. If he could move it to the sink, his brother would be able to concentrate on the fire. Ludger grabbed the pot’s handles with determination. Thanks to the pot-holders, it wasn’t hot.

“Heave-ho.”

However. The pot filled with water was immeasurably heavier than before. When he tried to pick it up, the water overflowed. Ludger gasped and drew away his hands. The pot fell back on the stove trivet with a clang, and tilted dangerously in Ludger’s direction.

“Watch out!” Julius suddenly extended his left hand to support the sizzling pot. He burned his palm, and the boiling water dripped onto his fingers. “Ugh!” Despite the searing pain, he did not move his hand. He put the pot back in place and only removed his hand slowly once he was sure it was secure.

Panting, he turned around to face his brother, who was staring at him dazedly. He looked fine.

“Why did you do that?!” Julius yelled. He himself was surprised by the emotion in his voice.  “If you got burned… You could have died!” Julius gripped Ludger’s shoulder strongly. Ludger’s face twisted in pain, but Julius did not let go. “You should have known that pot was too heavy for you!”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Ludger was terrorized by Julius’ scary expression. He had never seen him like that. Tears streaked down his pale cheeks.

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…”

Seeing his trembling little brother repeat apologies over and over again, Julius suddenly remembered his conversation with his colleague.

 “What do you mean, I have evil eyes?”

“The face looking back at you in the mirror is your answer.”

 The vicious look reflected in his brother’s eyes…

The tears streaming down his brother’s cheeks, like he had just seen a monster…

 Stop it!

 In his brother’s features, he could see the face Claudia made when she lunged at him with her short sword, her eyes wide with terror and hatred as she went for the kill.

The bloodshot eyes of the man he killed in a fractured dimension earlier today.

The tears of the elderly woman begging for her life, whom he killed in the one before that.

The shriek of the young woman, protected by her lover, whom he killed in the one before that.

The last breath of the little girl holding a picture full of fun memories, whom he killed in the one before that.

The people he killed in the ones before that.

 If the face of someone in front of you was like a reflection of you, then your face was also a reflection of them. His own eyes, that had seen too much despair and hatred, were possessed by death.

Dark eyes, like a god of death.

As long as he kept massacring fractured dimensions, those deaths would lead to further darkness.

He was right. My eyes are…

“…the worst.”

“Huh?”

Julius let go of Ludger’s shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“No…”

“Okay, then…”

Looking around, he noticed that the stove was turned off and the fire in the pan had died down. His eyes landed on the ashes of what used to be tomatoes and bacon, and he huffed a laugh. There was no way a god of death could prepare a warm mother’s dish. He had been all wrong.

Never again.

Never again would he try to play house.

 “Cooking is officially forbidden.”

Julius left the kitchen, leaving Ludger behind.

“Julius?”

“I’m going to buy food and medicine.”

Ludger noticed Julius’ burnt hand. “Julius, your hand… I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t apologize. That was a good lesson. Cooking is for the lazy who stay at home all day without a proper job.”

Julius opened the entrance door without looking back at Ludger. The night sky outside was completely dark.

[heart-eyes-kippen]

Skater boy

HELLO here’s a carty fic ft. flirty!Marty and I have nothing to say for myself. 

Also: The idea/dialogue in the first scene is based off this gifset by @lukemullen which you should check out if you haven’t already!!

Word count: 4.1k

~

Cyrus watched, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as Rachel hurled words at Marty he could barely make sense of from where he stood. The soft glow emanated by varying neon lights didn’t help him in his attempts to lip-read whatsoever. Not that he was renowned for his lip-reading skills in the first place.

 He let out a miserable sigh as he turned towards their bowling lane, where Buffy had just managed to score a strike. She jumped up with an enthusiastic cheer, but it died on her lips the moment her eyes fell on Cyrus. She frowned slightly as she approached.

 “What’s up?” 

 Cyrus’ gaze shifted towards Marty and Rachel again. He swallowed, before looking back over at his friend. 

 “I think I’m dead,” he told her, face clouded with guilt.

 Buffy laughed slightly. “Why? What does that have to do with you?” 

 Cyrus hesitated for a moment, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. Privately, he’d been asking himself that exact question. 

 “Um...” he trailed off uncertainly, glancing back over at Marty, “I don’t really know. All I did was go over and talk to him for a bit, but surely that couldn’t have been it, right?” 

 Buffy considered this for a moment, and Cyrus found himself shifting nervously under the weight of her gaze. 

 “Right,” she confirmed, slowly. 

 Cyrus wanted to ask why she seemed so unsure, but a loud yell from Rachel had both of their gazes snapping back over to the pair. 

 “Whatever! I’m leaving!” 

 She gathered up her things in a heap, pushing past Marty as she stormed over to the exit. The boy remained rooted to the spot for a moment, disbelief written all over his face. He blinked a few times, before turning to give them both a smile. It seemed to lack its usual brightness though, and Cyrus frowned slightly as he moved automatically, approaching him. 

 “Are you okay? I’m so sorry if I had anything to do with that, I really don’t know how she could’ve seen me as a threat,” Cyrus laughed awkwardly, fixated briefly on the nervous way Marty was fidgeting with his shirt. 

 The boy gave a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah...crazy.” 

 Cyrus lingered there for a moment, before placing a hand on Marty’s shoulder and offering him an uncertain smile. “You can join our game, if you want. I’m sure you could take a few of my turns too, I don’t think my fragile body is designed for bowling, anyway.” 

 “Oh come on,” Marty encouraged, quick to regain his previous enthusiasm, “I’ll show you a thing or two!”

 Buffy’s eyebrows shot up at that, but she didn’t say anything as the pair approached the lane. 

 “That’s really not necessary,” Cyrus blushed, “I know what I can’t do.” 

 Marty raised an eyebrow. “I think we have different ideas of what you can’t do, then.” 

 Somehow, amongst the sounds of chattering and bowling bowls crashing against pins, Marty’s voice had been crystal clear to him. He hesitated a moment longer, directing a look toward Buffy, before shrugging his shoulders and moving forward. 

 “Well, I warned you.” 

 Marty just smiled. “Consider that warning ignored, then. Here, I’ll grab you a bowling ball.” 

 He jogged off, and Cyrus bit his lip slightly as he looked after him. Buffy coughed in a way that was probably perfectly innocent, but Cyrus immediately turned back towards the lane anyway.

 “Ready?” came Marty’s voice a few moments later, kind as it always was. 

 Cyrus gave him a small smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

 He felt, rather than saw, the boy step up behind him and place a gentle hand on his arm. Cyrus pushed down the feeling that appeared in him at the contact, and tried to focus on what Marty was telling him. 

 “Okay - leg positioning is important before you run up and bowl, so we should focus on that first. Can you move your left leg forward slightly?” 

 Cyrus glanced back at Buffy one more time, who was sitting back on the seat scrolling through her phone now, before letting out a breath. 

 “Yeah,” he nodded. “I can do that.” 

 ~

 Despite the freezing temperatures it was a relatively clear day the following Wednesday, with sunlight streaming in through the cafeteria windows as Cyrus, totally appreciating the view, tapped away at his phone. His class had been dismissed early, which left him sitting alone at their usual table while he made his way through a chocolate chocolate muffin. 

 Suddenly, a book was being dropped on the table in front of him, which had him jolting slightly as he turned around in his seat. 

 “Marty?! Give a guy some warning,” he scolded as the boy walked around to the other side of the table, grinning.

 “Sorry,” he apologised, in a way that let Cyrus know he wasn’t in the slightest, before nodding towards the book. 

 Cyrus gave him a sceptical look as he placed his phone down, scanning the cover for a moment. His face brightened with a smile almost immediately, and he picked it up to read its blurb. 

 “It’s the book I wanted to borrow!” he exclaimed, maybe a little too loudly, but Marty didn’t seem to care. 

 “Yeah! It’s been a few weeks since you checked so I thought I’d stop by the library.” 

 Cyrus’ expression softened slightly at that. He set the book down again, gaze falling on the boy sat in front of him. He’d ditched the hair gel that day, which meant brown strands of hair were flattened against his forehead in a way that really shouldn’t have been as adorable as it was. Cyrus quickly brushed this thought off though, looking hurriedly back down at the table. 

 “Thanks,” he said, “that was nice of you.” 

 Marty smiled at that, unable to tear his gaze away for a moment. He cleared his throat though, reaching into the bag he’d set down beside him. 

 “Unfortunately, I don’t just come bearing gifts. I might also have a tiny favour to ask.” 

 Cyrus hugged the book to his chest, giving Marty a quizzical look. “And what would that be?”

 “Could you help me with this math question?” 

 Cyrus let out a slight laugh at that, but it was cut short when Marty’s face visibly fell.

 “I’m sorry!” he backtracked, “I just expected it to be something bigger. Of course I’ll help you.” 

 The smile returned to Marty’s face at that. His eyes scanned the cafeteria for a moment, before landing on an empty table behind Cyrus. 

 “Wanna move over to that table?”

 “Sure,” Cyrus shrugged, moving to stand up, but TJ chose that moment to arrive with Andi.

 He looked down at the book in Cyrus’ hands, eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. “I didn’t know you liked Stephen King.” 

 Cyrus nervously averted his gaze. “I don’t really talk about it much. But um, I’m gonna go help Marty with a math problem real quick, I’ll be right back!” 

 TJ looked between the pair for a moment, before nodding. “Okay.”

 Marty was placing a hand on his shoulder before Cyrus could even react to that, and a small smile appeared on his lips as the boy guided him over to the table. 

 He spread out his work supplies when they got there, ignoring the bustling crowds surrounding them as he sat down and smiled up at Cyrus. Cyrus bit his lip, before taking the seat beside him and leaning forward on his elbows to look over the question Marty had circled in red. 

 He hummed slightly when he’d finished, turning to the boy with a nod. “Do you have a pen?” 

 Marty nodded, rummaging around in his pencil case for a moment before handing one over. 

 “It’s always harder to pick out the information in worded questions, but once you have it all you need to do is plug it into this simple interest equation,” he explained.

 He chanced a glance over at the boy, who was watching his face as he spoke and nodding in what appeared to be a mindless fashion. Cyrus raised an eyebrow as he began to underline certain parts of the question, fighting back the smile that was tugging at his lips. 

 “What did I just say?” he murmured, keeping his eyes on the page. 

 Marty blinked beside him. “Um...it’s hard to pick out information in worded questions...you need to plug it into a simple interest equation once you have it...” 

 Cyrus let out a huff, unable to keep from smiling now as he glanced over at the boy. “Okay, good. The parts I’ve underlined are the relevant parts, because they either tell you, or imply at least, what the information is.” 

 He began writing, Marty following along somehow between his glances up at Cyrus’ face, which he pretended not to notice. 

 “I can’t help but think you’re daydreaming about marathons,” he teased, only half-serious.

 “Pft,” Marty scoffed, waving him off, “marathons aren’t the only thing I think about.” 

 Cyrus hesitated. “What else do you think about, then?” he asked quietly, eyes still focused on the question. 

 Marty’s eyes were shining with amusement now. He picked up the pen Cyrus had dropped onto the table, writing down all the values they needed with ease. 

 “Maths,” he answered softly.

 Cyrus let out a breath. “That’s a boring thing to be thinking about. Also, I’m beginning to think you know how to do this question.” 

 Marty smirked slightly at that, and Cyrus felt his stomach flip. “I guess I’ve been exposed, then.” 

 Silence fell for a moment. Cyrus bit his lip, before reaching out to close the textbook. 

 “What happened with you and Rachel?” he asked, still managing to avoid eye contact. 

 “She broke up with me,” Marty answered, in a way that seemed strangely casual. 

 Cyrus glanced over at that. “I’m sorry.” 

 Marty laughed. “I’m not. I mean - she was nice, and I liked hanging out with her, but the spark I felt at first just kind of...” he gestured vaguely with his hands, gaze meeting Cyrus’, “faded.” 

 He nodded at that, running his fingers mindlessly along the spine of his book. “Then...that’s good, I guess.” 

 There was chatter all around them, and groups of people weaving past their table, but somehow Cyrus managed to tune all of that out as he looked back at Marty. 

 “Yeah,” the boy agreed, smiling, “it uh...it opens other doors.” 

 Cyrus looked away again, blaming the warmth inside for the blush on his cheeks. 

 ~

 Icy wind was rushing by Cyrus as he tugged on the sleeves of his coat, willing another layer of clothing to appear on him somehow. He was stood outside the school, trying to decide whether a trip to The Spoon alone would be worth it for the (warm) baby taters he was craving at that moment. Grey clouds were drifting across the previously clear sky, and the cold was so biting that he was considering just going straight home and bundling up there. 

 “Hey there, book boy.” 

 He whirled around in an instant at those words, lips parted slightly in shock. Marty was stood there in all of his adorable glory, hands shoved in his pockets and face rosy from the cold. 

 Cyrus stood there for a moment, before smiling and shaking his head. “For some reason, I thought you had basketball practise with TJ.” 

 “Not with my basketball skills,” Marty responded, laughing slightly. “May I ask why you’re standing out here alone?” 

 Cyrus huffed. “Well, no one’s free to hang out so I’m trying to decide whether or not going to The Spoon alone is a good idea.” 

 Marty’s face brightened with a smile. He walked forward and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’ll answer that for you - probably not. I have a proposition, though.” 

 “Okay. Enlighten me” said Cyrus, eyebrows raised.

 “You could come over to my place and we could have hot chocolates.” 

 After a moment or two, Cyrus was shrugging and nodding. “That sounds fun. Is your house far from here?” 

 “Nope!” he responded, his arm moving to wrap around Cyrus’ shoulders as they began to walk. 

 “Keeping in mind that you’re a marathon runner and I’m barely scraping by in PE.” 

 Marty laughed. “It’s ten minutes tops. I’ll give you a piggy-back ride there if you’re about to pass out or something.” 

 Cyrus considered this for a moment. “You know...I kind of feel like I’m about to pass out.” 

 The boy flashed him an amused smile as they navigated around a protruding hedge, and Cyrus almost found himself regretting the words slightly. 

 “Give it at least three minutes, then maybe I’ll consider it,” Marty told him. 

 Cyrus brought a dramatic hand up to his forehead, closing his eyes as he leaned up against the boy. Marty playfully pushed him away with a laugh. 

 “I’d be seriously concerned if you fainted after thirty seconds of walking!” 

 “Ugh, has it really only been thirty seconds?” 

 Marty pulled him back with a fond eye roll. “Yes, Cyrus. It’s really only been thirty seconds.”

 Their walk turned out to be relatively uneventful, and Cyrus managed to distract himself from the cold by focusing on Marty, who was waving his free hand about enthusiastically as he recounted something he and Jonah had done together. He didn’t end up needing a piggy-back ride, although he very seriously considered asking for one anyway at multiple points throughout their trip. 

 Warm air hit them the moment they stepped through the front door, and Cyrus could finally feel himself beginning to defrost. They left their shoes by the door, and Marty turned to him with a smile. 

 “Welcome to my house!” 

 Cyrus glanced around as they headed towards  Marty’s room. The living room was warmly lit due to various lamps, and he could see the heater running above the couch. It all seemed neat in a cluttered way, with various photo frames and antiques filling the display cabinet and papers stacked up on the table. 

 They reached Marty’s room, which had walls that were painted blue in contrast to the beige of the living room. A few of Andi’s bracelets were stacked neatly in the corner of his desk, accompanied by a small statue of a pair of Nike sneakers. His eyebrows raised slightly at that, but he didn’t linger on that too long because the thing he saw next had his heart skipping a beat. There was a miniature bi pride flag, propped up by a cardboard stand. 

 He tore his gaze away eventually, only to find that Marty had sat himself down on his bed and was currently looking over at him with a smile. 

 “Admiring?” he asked, an eyebrow raised in question, and Cyrus felt himself blush slightly as he shrugged off his jacket. 

 “Uh,” he paused for a moment, clearing his throat, “yeah. It’s nice.” 

 Marty had that same amused glint in his eye as he gestured for Cyrus to sit. He did so hesitantly, ensuring that a friendly distance separated them. 

 “So, what should we do?” he asked. 

 The boy pondered this for a moment, before looking over at him. “Well...we could watch a movie, or play video games, or...” 

 Cyrus swallowed. “Or what?” 

 Marty shrugged, smiling innocently. “I could go get us some hot chocolates and you could read that book to me.” 

 Well, shit. 

 He couldn’t help but gape at him for a moment, as though he’d laugh and say ‘just kidding!’ A few seconds passed, and the realisation hit him that it’d been a serious suggestion. 

 Cyrus blinked a few times. “Um...if you’re sure, then yeah! That sounds nice.” 

 “Of course I’m sure,” he waved him off, getting up from the bed. “I’ll be right back.” 

 Marty was returning after a few minutes, setting two steaming mugs of down on the bedside table. He moved across the room and drew his blinds shut, flicking on a nearby light instead that illuminated the bed and left the rest of his room relatively dark. 

 Cyrus watched as he did this, biting his lip slightly. 

 “I hope this isn’t your way of...” he trailed off as he met Marty’s eye, feeling his heart flutter.

 The boy paused by the bed, expression mischievous. “Way of what?” 

 Cyrus just shook his head though, blushing as Marty settled down beside him. “Nevermind.” 

 Marty still looked knowing, which had a fluttery sense of nervousness filling Cyrus’ stomach, but he didn’t press any further after that. 

 “Okay, then. I guess I’ll start!” 

 He had the sneaking suspicion that Marty was paying attention to his voice more than he was paying attention to the actual story, but he didn’t mind that idea too much so he decided against saying anything.

 ~

 “Is it bad that I have ‘skater boy’ playing in my head right now?” Cyrus laughed, watching as Marty passed by him. 

 Marty placed his foot down on the ground, looking back at the boy with a grin. 

 “I mean, you’re at a skate park with a skater boy, so I think it’s pretty fitting.” 

 “Am I the one saying ‘see you later, boy’ in this scenario?” Cyrus inquired, raising an eyebrow as Marty approached him. 

 “I hope not,” he responded, and Cyrus had to take a moment or two to process what exactly he meant.

 Above them, a clear blue stretched above their heads, darkening as dusk approached. There were strong gusts of wind rustling the trees that surrounded them, accompanied by the sounds of chatter as other people went about their skating.

 Cyrus took in a deep breath. “It’s so cold,” he sighed out, shoving his hands into his pockets.

 Marty looked at him for a moment, before placing his skateboard down on the ground and shrugging off his puffy blue coat. 

 “Wait-“ Cyrus protested, but before he could there was a coat being placed gently over his shoulders. 

 “I’ll be fine,” Marty assured him, smiling gently, “besides - it looks cute on you.” 

 Cyrus looked towards the ground at that, letting an exasperated sigh pass his lips. “Gosh. Why do you have to be so...”

 Marty looked vaguely amused by this. “Charming?” he finished, as though somehow reading Cyrus’ mind. 

 He lifted his gaze, smiling slightly, and they spent a few long moments looking back at one another. Marty was the first to break the silence. 

 “Wanna get out of here?” he asked, picking his skateboard up again. 

 “Where to?” 

 He paused for a brief moment, smiling, “You’ll see.” 

 It was a Friday night and Cyrus didn’t have anywhere else to be, so he happily followed along, leaning in automatically when Marty wrapped an arm around his shoulder. It felt as though there’d been a shift in the air as they walked, and although Cyrus couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was a swarm of butterflies had appeared in his stomach anyway.

 Within a few minutes they were approaching a park that was filled with towering trees similar to the ones at the skate park, which scattered the grass beside a tired-looking playground. He continued to follow Marty, stepping through wood chips as they approached a sun-faded plastic hut, relatively tall, with large open windows. 

 “Are we gonna sit inside this little house?” Cyrus asked him, amused. 

 Marty shook his head, flashing him a smile as he stepped up onto the window ledge. 

 “Nah, we’re gonna climb on top of it.” 

 Cyrus gave him an incredulous look. “Totally. You know my track record with this kind of stuff, right? I’d like to avoid stitches for a while.” 

 “You won’t need stitches,” Marty assured him, as he jumped back down onto the ground. “I’ll catch you if you fall, which you most definitely won’t.” 

 He hesitated a moment longer, looking between Marty and the house, before taking in a deep breath and nodding. 

 “Window ledge, handlebars, roof ledge,” Marty told him, and Cyrus gave him a timid smile.

 “Easy,” he confirmed, as he climbed up onto the window ledge. It was the easier part, but he was honestly still prepared to give himself credit for it. He looked down at the handlebar, heart rate accelerating as he stepped up cautiously.

 Surprisingly enough, that step wasn’t too hard either. Cyrus felt slightly more self-assured as he reached up to the roof and threw his leg over onto the ledge, effectively lifting himself up. 

 “This is a pathetic roof,” he observed, smiling slightly at Marty’s responding laughter. “It’s literally flat.” 

 “Maybe they ran out of plastic,” Marty offered, as he climbed up with ease. 

 A majority of the trees were behind them, and the pair had a mostly clear view of the sun as it lowered down towards the horizon.

 Marty settled down beside him, unwrapping the scarf from around his neck and placing it over both of their shoulders instead. Cyrus’ stomach flipped at the gesture, but he tried not to let this show on his face as he looked out at the sky. 

 “It’s beautiful,” he heard Marty breathe out a moment or two later.

 He scoffed and closed his eyes at that. “I swear Stevens, if you’re looking at me right now-“ 

 Cyrus opened them and turned his head, only to find that Marty was smiling over at him. 

 “You know me too well,” he laughed, giving his nose a playful tap.

 “Nothing is more beautiful than a sunset,” Cyrus told him firmly. 

 “I beg to differ.” 

 He looked over at the boy with a sigh. “Oh, really? Well that’s too bad.” 

 A pout was forming on Marty’s lips now. “You won’t even let me argue my case?” 

 “Nope! Now be quiet and let me appreciate the view.” 

 Apart from rustling leaves, relative silence filled the air around them. Cyrus found himself regretting his words after what felt like seconds and he glanced over at the boy, biting his lip. 

 Marty let out an amused huff. “Something tells me you’re not appreciating the view right now.” 

 Cyrus hesitated. “I mean...I still am, technically.” 

 He turned to look at him then, face registering brief surprise. Neither of them were looking out at the sky now, and Cyrus could feel his heart begin to soar as Marty turned his body to face him, eyes never leaving his. 

 “Is that so?” 

 Cyrus let out a shaky breath. He couldn’t go back on it now. 

 “Yeah,” he murmured, placing a hand down on the cool plastic between them. 

 Marty smiled roguishly, eyes alight with mischief all over again. He had turned fully now, so that their knees were touching, and Cyrus’ breath caught slightly in his throat as he leaned forward. 

 Then, as if sensing Cyrus’ nervousness, he drew back again. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, and Cyrus’ eyes widened slightly at how forward the question was. He appreciated it though, and gave the boy a nod.

 A faint smile appeared on Marty’s face as he leaned in again, and Cyrus mirrored the movement this time. It felt like minutes had passed by the time their faces were inches apart, and Cyrus was sitting so close now that he’d practically be sitting on Marty’s lap if he moved any closer. The sun was still setting, and the leaves were still rustling, but both of them had managed to tune that out.

 Finally, Marty was cupping the side of his face and closing the distance between their lips, softly at first to test the waters, then firmly. Cyrus placed his hands on Marty’s knees for balance as he leaned in further, heart racing. The air around them was icy, but Marty’s lips were warm and they were enough to make up for it.

 When he’d first seen this boy at Andi’s party with Buffy, he really couldn’t have anticipated that he’d be kissing him at a playground one day, but he wasn’t complaining at all.

 When they separated again, leaning back, Cyrus’ mind was reeling. 

 “What’s Buffy gonna think of this?” was the first thing to leave his mouth, and Marty let out a laugh. 

 “Well, that’s romantic. I mean - she had a secret girlfriend she never told us about, so I doubt she can say much.” 

 Cyrus could feel himself blushing slightly. “Sorry. But also - what?!”

 Marty pulled his phone out from his pocket, the screen illuminating his face as he typed something in. He showed it to Cyrus after a moment and, sure enough, there was a photo of Buffy kissing a girl he recognised from her basketball team on the cheek. 

 He let out a startled gasp. “We have to confront her about this!” 

 Marty raised his eyebrows at that. “How about we save the confronting for tomorrow?” 

 Cyrus smiled. “Why? Is there something else you’d rather be doing?” 

 “Maybe,” he returned.

 With a fond eye roll, Cyrus leaned in to close the gap between their lips again.

[kiruuuuu]

Oneshot in which Thermite, Bandit and Kapkan, uh, deal with the... unusual aftermath of a mission. (Rating T, supernatural shenanigans, ~1.5k words) - written for @r6shippingdelivery​! 💗

.

It starts out entirely innocent.

Well, maybe not really since raiding a White Mask lab intended to research biochemical warfare is inherently not innocent at all, but the quiet week afterwards is – Thermite is recovering from a graze shot, Bandit broke a finger and Kapkan got stabbed, so they’re out of the mix and don’t have to worry about clean-up duty or chasing the terrorists over several continents. Instead, they laze around at base, throw popcorn at each other, gossip and waste time. Worrying about their teammates is second nature but it becomes significantly more bearable with the impromptu barbecues Thermite keeps initiating, the sips of vodka here and there which Kapkan provides and the innumerable activities Bandit thinks up to stave off boredom.

Still, Thermite wasn’t prepared to wake up one morning with the two operators sitting on the bed opposite him and staring into his soul. With a heartfelt curse, the American jolts upright, heart racing and mind already providing the worst case scenarios. “What happened? Did anyone die?”

Bandit softens a little (which is an unusual sight) and shakes his head. “No, everything’s fine. …Well, mostly.”

This doesn’t bode well. “What’s up? Why are you here?”

“Promise to not tell anyone and promise not to scream”, Kapkan demands quietly and Thermite nods straightaway. He’s always up for being let in on a secret and though he might not be the best one at keeping it when he’s loose and relaxed and drunk, he tries his best.

Before his eyes, Kapkan disappears.

Thermite screams.

When the blackness fades again, Bandit is holding him down with a look of concern and amusement. “That was about my reaction too”, he informs the still thrashing Thermite casually. “Only I didn’t throw pillows at him.”

Kapkan, now again fully visible, scoffs. “You threw a knife. As if I could be defeated by that.”

“What the fuck”, Thermite breathes and shakes the German off to rub at his face. “What the fuck, Maxim. Can you -”

Next to him, Bandit holds up his index fingers and turns them into fucking Tesla coils or something because suddenly, there’s lightning arcing from one to the other and the electricity makes Thermite’s arm hair stand up.

He screams again.

“The White Masks are fucking with things that should’ve been left unfucked”, Kapkan grumbles while Bandit struggles to calm down an agitated Thermite. “My guess is that our injuries allowed some shit in the air to react in our bodies.”

Wait.

“Wait”, says Thermite. “Are you saying -”

“Try it.” Bandit nods encouragingly. “It’s a bit like flexing a muscle in your temple. At first, it was really exhausting and hard to do, but we’ve already become better at it.”

Because he’s still too dumbstruck to second-guess his friends’ words, he obliges. There really is something, almost like a new limb or one he never felt like this before, and like Bandit said, it’s hard to isolate. He closes his eyes, focuses and tenses the new addition to his body, tries again and again -

And then the smoke alarm starts going nuts.

“Shit”, Kapkan mutters and defeatedly eyes the burning mattress next to him.

.

“We can’t let anyone know.” The disembodied voice follows the soft sound of footsteps around the workshop. Thermite is trying to burn HARRY SUX into the surface of one of the old tables, yet his control isn’t advanced enough and so the first three letters only end up spelling out GAY. Bandit is charging his phone and looking horrendously smug. “They’re gonna cart us off and treat us like zoo animals. So let’s keep it low, shall we?”

“I’m definitely telling my boys”, Bandit objects. “They’ll be dying of envy, Mark especially.”

“No. No telling. Do you want to end up dissected on some mad scientist’s table?”

“Shouldn’t we at least tell Six? In case the White Masks have injected themselves with this stuff and gone Hulk.”

Kapkan is silent for a moment and makes Thermite jump when he accidentally brushes against him. It’s still horribly uncanny. “All the material has been reviewed already. Doc would know if the formula to this… whatever it is was among the intel we recovered. You likely blew it up, Jordan.”

“From all we know, this doesn’t protect us against bullets anyway, so we’re good. As long as they don’t manage to use these abilities to put on a circus show so distracting we forget to do our jobs, I think we’ll be fine.” Bandit turns the overhead lamp into a strobe light which gets old after about four seconds.

“So that’s it? We just don’t let anyone know and never use this shit?” Thermite can’t believe it. He’s become a real life firebender and Kapkan is demoting him immediately.

“I mean – I never said we wouldn’t use it.”

.

The next week is the best of Thermite’s entire life so far.

He learns how to make crème brûlée purely so he can caramelise the sugar on top, constantly ignites Kapkan’s vodka shots and has no trouble heating up his food anymore. He develops the precision necessary to burn single words off a page and to turn up the heat until he can melt metal, does a few failed experiments trying to form glass and eventually makes his own out of sand and annoys both his friends by making cutlery unusable.

Kapkan figures out how to make other objects invisible and thus forces the other two to remember the exact layout and furniture of every room on base lest their toes suffer some more, and he causes them to sharpen their hearing if they don’t want to end up covered in yoghurt again. When he realises his invisible form isn’t bound to his normal physical shape but more bendable, they start smuggling him into public places in a bag and then watch other people’s confusion when they walk back out together. They also eat like kings after Kapkan wrestles a deer while invisible.

Bandit makes light switches and electric plugs obsolete, powers the coffee machine from his bed whenever he’s lazy and texts them to bring him a cup, fries his phone in a demonstration of how fast he can charge it and manages to type on a keyboard without using his fingers. He realises he can hotwire vehicles without messing with cables and has to be deterred from stealing an admittedly fetching Lamborghini they spot one day, but the highlight is him going outside during a thunderstorm, hands outstretched towards the heavens, disregarding the rain, and yelling against the thunder until lightning strikes him directly.

All three of them are in awe and horror.

“We can’t let anyone know”, Bandit reiterates and tries unsuccessfully to flatten his wild hair.

.

The next day, the others return. Making up excuses becomes second nature.

“I microwaved a grape earlier, that’s why it’s broken”, Kapkan lies in passing and gracefully accepts the bollocking which follows.

“I must’ve dropped a cigarette, that’s why it’s burnt”, Bandit lies casually and shrugs at the lecture he receives.

“I was watching a film, that’s what you must’ve heard”, Thermite lies easily and dismisses the concerns about a ghost on the base.

And then, a few days later, Thermite organises a barbecue, starts preparing everything outside while humming to himself, singing along to the small wireless and taking a sip of the beer Ash brought him from the States, and he’s content, relaxed, and unfocused. While lighting the coal, he juggles a little with a flame, makes it dance in the air and eventually spell out his name, and then someone gasps and the sound of something shattering echoes between the buildings. A single glance tells Thermite it wasn’t only the glasses Dokkaebi was carrying but also his dreams.

She’s white as a sheet.

“Neat magic trick, huh?”, he tries lamely.

.

Harry has his head in his hands.

“When were you planning to tell me?”, he wants to know quietly.

“Well”, says Kapkan. “You know”, says Bandit. “Actually”, says Thermite.

“Talk to Doc. Explain it to him. Get a thorough check-up. Report to Olivier, James, anyone who might have more information on this. And please, please don’t go out in public or blow anything up.”

.

It fades. As fun as it was, it’s a bit of a relief for everyone involved because it makes their lives that much easier. Doc can finally sleep again after researching himself silly, the worried glances from their friends and teammates stop and they don’t have to hold back anymore. That was the worst part: living in fear of accidentally causing harm. All three agree it’s for the better and go back to their usual routine, sighing in annoyance when they have to switch the television on manually, but going back is a lot easier.

And when Bandit sometimes smokes despite having forgotten his lighter, and when Kapkan’s phone has a suspiciously long battery life, and when Thermite knows a little too much about how Fuze’s date went, they still don’t tell anyone.

[rainbows-fanfics]

Two Dearest Friends (Chapter 11)

Summary:

Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, meets Sally, a ragdoll created by Dr. Finklestein. A friendship blossoms between them as he introduces her to the world outside of her tower. Sally is falling for him as their relationship grows into something more, and Jack finds the same is happening to him.

A story where the Christmas incident never happens, and Jack and Sally find their happiness on their own.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally

Their eyes meet for a split second before the smaller figure rushes to hide behind a building. But Jack's already seen her, and he rounds the corner quickly to catch up with her. He finds the ragdoll leaning against the wall, playing with her hair and jumping in surprise once she sees him standing in front of her. He finds this charming - surely she had seen him as well? "Hello there," He greets, his tone naturally warm. "Hi..." She attempts to be interested in the dead tree beside her, and for a moment, he feels like he's being ignored. But when he sees her hands climb up to her hair and curl the yarn strands within her finger, he realizes he's mistaken. He mentally dwells over what to say to Sally. His mind has been so jumbled with Halloween planning that he almost forgot how to greet a friend. He scolds himself for being so busy and doesn't notice the curious look in her black eyes as she observes him. "I was going to the Graveyard, just now." He tugs at his collar. "Would you like to join me?" He feels something harden in his bones as she grimaces, but notices she's not looking in his direction. Before he can turn his skull and see what she's looking at, she jumps to her feet and starts nodding enthusiastically, even starting to walk down the path before he does. He follows after her and offers an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of his skull as they enter the Outskirts. --------------------------- On their way to the Graveyard, he feels an ache in his spine. He attempts to crack it but comes to no avail. He stretches uncomfortably until he hears a pop and sighs in relief. That's when he finds her stare on him and realizes she's been watching the whole time. He grins in embarrassment as he returns to his previous position, holding his arms behind his back in a more dignified manner. As her eyes travel over his thin frame, Sally notices something. His limbs move freely and quickly, and he always appears so balanced. Like the complete opposite of her. Just watching him stretch intrigues her. He positioned his body in a way she hadn't thought possible. It was then she takes a good look at his thin frame and chest, her cheeks growing hotter the longer she stares. And when his gaze finds hers again, she can't find the courage to tear her eyes away. "You are really flexible," She comments, letting a breath out slowly. "Oh! Well, yes, I've been told that before." His slides his palm on the side of his skull. "Someone once told me I reminded them of a spider." "A spider?" He notices her fascination and nods slightly. "Well, it's probably because I can move like this." For demonstration, he ducks forward and rests his palms against the ground, moving the rest of his body in a second until it sinks down, then moves his knees so they make contact on the floor. Then he sprawls himself on the ground for a moment, a stance mimicking a spider, before he flips forward and brings himself back to his feet. When he looks at her, he finds her with amazed eyes and a mesmerized smile. It fuels his confidence with himself. When she notices he's looking at her, she clears her throat. "That was..." Her hand hovers in the air for a moment. "Just like a spider!" He chuckles. "I'm glad you think so, Sally. It's one of the things that makes me a showman." They arrive at the Graveyard's gates before anything more can be exchanged. He holds it open and motions for her to come in first. She shyly takes a step forward, passing him a smile, before arriving inside. He shuts the gates behind him and inhales deeply, already getting comfortable in its peaceful aura.

"The fog is wonderfully thick this time of year, don't you think?" She looks around and sniffs for herself, smelling the bits of bones Finklestein has stashed in his laboratory. Then she looks at the fog and notices just how thick it is. She can barely make out all the graves and pumpkins from this angle. "Why, yes, it is." He brushes past her and begins walking in a direction. She stumbles to follow him, obviously not wanting to lose him so quickly. She notices he's taking her to the spiral hill and slows down as he climbs it. When they're at the top, he taps the empty spot beside him. She flattens her dress and sits down like she has done before, the two of them sitting and absorbing their surroundings silently. The weather around them is cold, but every part of her feels hot. She drugged the Doctor earlier, out of fear more than anything. She still has no idea how she managed to bump into Jack, but she's glad she did. And she was surprised when he invited her to come with him. He looked so tired when he passed her; she thought he wouldn't notice they made contact at all! She unconsciously scoots closer to him and lets out a shaky sigh. Could she...tell him how she feels? No, no, that would be too sudden! But would he even feel the same way about her?... "This is exactly what I needed," His voice snaps her back into reality. "Some peace and quiet." She releases the breath she has been holding, relieved he finally said something. "Yes, I really needed it, too..." Thoughts of the Doctor begin to cloud her mind. She thinks of the encumbering demands that made her fear for her life. That if she messed up on anything, he would tamper with her brain. Or if she had said the wrong thing, he would threaten her with it again. She became the slave he has wanted for a few days, and already could she feel the life draining out of her, as if everything was pointless. She freed herself just to feel some meaning again, and only because she incidentally found the Deadly Nightshade in the Doctor's room. Jack looks over at her with a worried expression. "-I wasn't actually expecting you to agree with me. Is something the matter?" She goes quiet, wondering whether she should tell him. He's already done so much for her...asking anymore would just be selfish at this point. But he encourages her honesty and even promised she could come to him if anything was wrong. Yet, if Finklestein knew she blabbed again, he may as well go through with his promises. And that was the last thing she wanted. She doesn't know what to say and decides to let her imagined heart speak for her. "Things have been frightful at home. And...not the good type of fright. I needed to leave again. The Doctor says the more I see you, the more I'll be bothering you..." His mouth forms into an 'O', but no words escape. He registers her words several times, making vague gestures with his bony hands as he grasps for words. He eventually pulls himself together and spits out his reply. "--Well, first of all, you aren't bothersome to me at all. Your company is very...congenial, if I'd say so myself." She doesn't understand the word he used, but she's relieved to hear his response. For a moment, she actually had believed she was bothering him. She really shouldn't be seeing him so often as it is, but she can't help it. He...enjoys it. And she does, too. Her leaves flutter immensely. "Don't tell me he's been...doing those things to you again?" She bows her head guiltily. She knows he'll figure it out one way or the other. "Well...let's just say I've been realizing that the Doctor may be wrong about a few things..." He sits back exasperatedly. "-So he has." "Please, don't say anything at my convenience...he's been getting better about it; I can tell he's trying...he wouldn't want to upset his King-" "You shouldn't feel obligated to lie for him. Why would I find you out here if everything was perfectly fine at home?" She goes silent. She feels defeated for even trying to defend him at all. She was just trying to prevent the worst from happening. Apparently, her worry shows on her features, as the skeleton softens when he looks at her and nods slightly. She smiles, in relief that he understands, and comes forward to hug him again. But when they're close enough and she sees the surprised look on his skull, she retreats back to her spot and bites her lip nervously. "I was...I was, um, wondering if I could ask you some more things again?" She asks, desperately wanting to change topic. "They aren't about Halloween...they're more about you." He knows everything about her at this point, so she should get to know more about him in return. He isn't bothered by this, as the stitched smile returns to his skull and he leans more towards her. "That's fine. Go right ahead." She looks at him in surprise. Is he really okay with personal questions? The Doctor lectured her not to be too straightforward with people, or be so improper around her King. His welcoming nod of the skull only beckons her to ask the questions. She smiles and wonders what to ask first. "Well, what do you like to do? Besides your 'kingly' business..." He sits up attentively, apparently liking this question. "I'm sure you know how I like to read...I also like to do some math, and occasionally I'll run some experiments in my free time." He notices the lost look on her face. "-It's like what the Doctor does, except I do it for fun." She looks very impressed. "I hadn't thought of you liking stuff like that." "Then I guess you learned something new about me." He tilts his skull. "-I'm going to go ahead and assume you like to sew in your free time?" "Well, yes. And I like to cook...I've found a new recipe book I've been using to make the Doctor's meals lately." "Have you, now?" She nods excitedly. "I like cooking, too. But I don't do it as much as you." She notices he is less hesitant now than he was before with these questions. He is still waiting patiently for more. She brushes her hair back and thinks of what else to ask him. She has plenty, but she's scared in case she accidentally landed in unwanted territory... "I suppose I should also ask you about...well, the type of things you like?" She fumbles with her words. "I know you like Halloween-" His look changes. "-Well, you love Halloween, but...I don't know what else you really like." He thinks about it a little. "I guess my best answer would be art. I like to sing, as you know, but I also enjoy dancing and doing crafts. They're all fine hobbies." Her eyes flutter, suddenly remembering the things those Hanging Men said. Everything Jack could do and how talented he is...Then she remembers the monsters he sat with at that table, and she can't stop her thoughts from wandering. "I-I saw you in town, not too long ago. With these people that surrounded you at a table." She explains timidly. "You seemed close with them and they knew a lot about you. I was just wondering if they were your friends?" "I'm friends with everyone, Sally."   "Oh." Her face flushes red. That makes a lot of sense. Why he keeps getting stopped in town and why everyone talks to him so...casually. "I've made some friends, too...Just that day I was with the Hanging Tree, and the Band has talked to me a lot." "You mean James, John, and Jimmy? I'm well acquainted with them myself. They're very talented fellows, those three." Sally beams. He is friends with them, too? That must mean that they know a lot about Jack! She'll have to ask them once she sees them again. She tried her best to channel the excitement rising in her leaves; the same feeling the Doctor has warned her about for so long. It is all just so incredible - here she is sitting with The Pumpkin King and getting to know him! She's always wanted to talk with him more, and this day is turning in her favor thus far. The skeleton adjusts himself and doesn't bother sitting up properly, leaning over so he can admire her face. She looks much more attentive and happier than usual. He finds the look more appealing on her. Not that he doesn't like her shy nature, but it's nice to see her comfortable for once. "It's certainly new of you to start asking questions like these," He comments. "Has something brought this up?" She shakes her head, feeling somewhat shy again. "...I just wanted to get to know you more. Because friends know a lot about each other, right?" "Yes, that's right." He slowly nods his skull. "I don't mind it at all. It's actually been awhile since someone has talked to me like this. People are usually interested in what I have planned for Halloween rather than anything else I'm up to." She scrunches her nose in thought.  "That's silly. I'd like to know more about my King if I were them." "You are! And you keep happening to find me right when I come here. I think it's safe to say you have my full, undivided attention." He looks down at her and waits for her to ask him another question. She realizes this and ponders on what else to say. What to ask now? She wants to know everything about him, but that can't be done in one session. She'd have to take this one step at a time. "You said you manage everything about Halloween," She brings up. "What does that mean?" Ah, the boring stuff. He thinks, but answers regardless, "I organize and approve everything that has to do with Halloween. There's a lot of other things, too, but I'd spend too long talking about it." "What does the Mayor do?" The skeleton makes a noise, sounding like he suppressed a laugh. He clears his throat and gives an apologetic smile after. "Well, he does the first steps of everything for me, I suppose? He's mostly there to accept matters from the citizens directly when I can't." She can't stop herself from giggling. "He doesn't do much, does he?" Jack gives a relieved sigh. "Between you and me, he doesn't. He stresses a bit too much over nothing, sometimes." "I can tell," She thinks about his visit to the Doctor's. "He is a really nice man, though." "He's a close friend. Very good at heart," The Pumpkin King agrees. "A lot of the people here are. I hope Finklestein's didn't give you the wrong idea?" She shakes her head. "After meeting my friends here, Jack, I know that they're kind. Just like you." She feels a blush on her cheeks once more, but she means every word. His kindness has shown her a part of her world she has never seen...He helped her find Halloween Town past that dreadful Tower. She owes him everything for showing her the outside, and it's about time he very well knew it. He shuts his mouth to allow his stitched smile to grow to both ends of his skull. He feels differently about her compliments now. As if he accepts them before his mind can comprehend it. He isn't fully composed and he knows it, so he changes the subject. "I'm glad you were able to participate with the town. I'm sorry I didn't see you then." "I watched you with the children. They all looked so happy to see you. It only makes sense that they'd love a King as great as you." Jack grins, suddenly waving a hand in her direction. "-Ah, Sally, I - thank you. I try my best, especially at this time of year. Sometimes I get so swept up in work I get disconnected from everyone." She frowns, suddenly remembering how busy he will be. Will this be her last talk with him for awhile? She doesn't like the sound of that. She wants to be with him more...especially after everything that's happened. It hurts her just thinking of how long they'll be separated again. The Pumpkin King notices her change in demeanor and waves a hand to catch her attention again. "It's nothing to worry about, really. I'm fine. And the citizens get by perfectly well without me. I just enjoy being close with them, is all." She gives a forced smile, still feeling gloom from her thoughts. "Yes, that does sound good." He frowns and stares at her for a few moments. It pains him that the happiness is taken from her. And that was his fault, wasn't it? Oh, dear. He shouldn't have mentioned that at all. He finds her fidgeting with her hands in her lap and mentally decides he will get this girl to smile again. "Can I ask a question about you?" He asks. She looks up in disbelief. Was he really interested in knowing about her? "If you'd like, then of course..." "What do you like most about Halloween Town? From what you've seen and the people you've met, of course." She thinks about it. This place is wonderful, and there is nothing that bad about it. The people are friendly, the decorations are impressive, and they have such unique shops and foods. Though, something stands out from all of them. One particular person whom she loves that comes from such an amazing Town...who, undeniably, is her favorite thing among everything. Her eyes go half lidded as her heart speaks her words. "You..." She realizes what she is saying and her eyes snap open. Her phantom heart pounds in her ears as she goes to correct what she has said. "-r ruling!" She finishes. "The way you run the town is truly....admirable, Jack. Especially with all the work you have to do." She prays to a Halloween God that he can't see the blush growing rapidly on her clothed cheeks. She holds up a hand to her face to try and hide it. He looks very surprised still, and she knows she already blew her cover. But then he does something she doesn't expect - he relaxes his posture and scoots closer to her, to the point where there are only a few inches between them. "Thank you. I'm glad you found something to enjoy here. Halloween Town is very unique, and so are you, Sally. I have a feeling you'll fit in quite well here." Hope surfaces again in her chest. "You think so?" "Of course." She looks away from him and rubs the side of her arm. She is too flattered to think of words to say. The two of them have been complimenting each other left and right. She had only meant this to be a session to know more about him, yet now what she's learned that he wants her here. And he knows she'll fit in. "I should be paying the Doctor a visit sometime soon, don't you think?" She perks up at his question, sitting up attentively. "What for?" "To make sure he doesn't get any ideas with you. Ensure everything is alright there, and all. I have some others matters with him, anyway." He pauses and adds, "-If I remember right, you once asked me if you'd ever see me there again." He rests his hand on his lap and, for a moment, their arms brush against one another. "-Well, now you will."   She can't begin to describe the exhilaration she's experiencing. She has to hold back tears of joy as she tells him, "I'll look forward to your visit, Jack..." The thin man looks over at her curiously, finding she's no longer making eye contact. But he can tell just by the sound of her voice that she's relieved. His next trip to the Doctor's might be a little different, but at least he knows someone will be glad of his company. After awhile, he nods. "I think I will, too." Their voices eventually fade into silence. They continue to sit there, bathing in the comfortable yet cold atmosphere. It's clear, on a physical note, that they no longer mind each other's company. As for Sally, she relishes it. And as for Jack, this is the first time in years he's felt so relaxed in such a stressful time. He has only his new friend to thank for that. He looks over and finds her staring at him. She doesn't look away this time, and neither does he. Then, they both smile. She finds peace and consolation in his; he finds something refreshing and new in hers.

[savvysass]

Self-Sacrifice is a Bitch Chapter 5

Ao3

Chapters 1 2 3 4 5

-

Sorry this is late! I was slow writing and my beta was busy. Thank you @minkcatus​ again for betaing! Also guys I am now understanding this is going to be REALLY LONG so like... hang in there. I’ll get better as I go along.

*updated tags and rating. I’m combining all the parts into one, and it gets dark as far as death and illness. No major character deaths tho- don’t worry.

Rating:M

Category:Gen

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Chapter: 5/?

Chapter Summary:

“Kid, you’re okay. You’re arm is gone, but you are okay. We are just going to sit here and breathe, and I will take care of everything else. You are okay now.”

Okay… he was okay. The doctor put something in his IV, but he was okay. He tasted metal in his mouth as the drugs entered his system, but he was okay. He felt like his body just turned to lead, but he was okay.

He couldn’t move, and that wasn’t— that wasn’t okay—that wasn’t—

“Peter shhh…It’s fine.” Tony said, and May was running her fingers through his hair. The pain dulled, and he breathed.

He was okay.

Additional Tags: endgame fix it fic, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Whump, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Near Death Experiences, Recovery, Amputation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, probably more than i remember, Sickfic, Major Illness, Blood, Legoland, Kidnapping, Torture, god what else happens everything happen, Seizures, Fainting, Medical Trauma

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Peter didn’t want more medicine— that much he knew. Mr. Stark was right though— it hurt too much. All of this hurt too much. He was tired of being in pain.

He wanted to reach out and hold his hand. He wanted Mr. Stark to squeeze his hand tight and suck out all of the pain in his arm.

When he tried to move it though, nothing happened. Only a sharp agony in his shoulder.

Why won’t his arm move?

He looked down.

His eyes widened as he was greeted with the sight of his shoulder, wrapped in bloody bandages and very much missing what goes underneath.

He was missing his arm.

The beeping in the room started screaming in his ear, but everything was muffled as he looked at his shoulder, the agony spiking as he realized what it was he had felt.

They had been amputating his arm.

His chest felt tight, air coming in short gasps as he tried to grab at his shoulder. This couldn’t be real. He didn’t really lose his arm. That’s crazy. This is crazy.

A gentle hand took his chin. It turned him away from his arm, carefully avoiding the side of his face.

“Pete-Pete, look at me.”

His eyes searched Mr. Stark’s face as he stared down at him, sympathy pouring into his gaze.

“You’re okay, Peter.”

A sob tore through Peter’s throat. 

It wasn’t okay.

He wasn’t okay. 

His arm is gone.

He desperately reached for Mr. Stark’s hand with his other arm-— thank god still attached— and tried to pull him as close as he could. He needed Mr. Stark to fix this. He needed someone — Anyone— to fix this. Panic was making the pain more intense, and he could feel the knife slicing deeper and deeper and deeper—

“Peter, calm down. Cho—”

“Peter, we are going to give you the medicine now,” a woman said, and no please not yet he can’t yet!

“Peter.” It’s May this time, her hands in his hair.

“Relax Peter. Tony and I are right here. Just breathe.”

Breathe. Right. Breathe. He was panicking. He knew this. He just lost his arm and he was panicking. Of course he was panicking because his arm, his arm—

“Kid, look at me.”

His eyes flicked up. Tony was staring at him, the same panic that he was feeling reflected in those tired eyes.

“Kid, you’re okay. You’re arm is gone, but you are okay. We are just going to sit here and breathe, and I will take care of everything else. You are okay now.”

Okay… he was okay. The doctor put something in his IV, but he was okay. He tasted metal in his mouth as the drugs entered his system, but he was okay. He felt like his body just turned to lead, but he was okay.

He couldn’t move, and that wasn’t— that wasn’t okay—that wasn’t—

“Peter shhh…It’s fine.” Tony said, and May was running her fingers through his hair. The pain dulled, and he breathed.

He was okay.

-

Tony held Peter’s hand as the panic in his eyes started to fade. His body was slack, and Tony begged whoever was listening to please let that mean he was in less pain. The kid’s eyes were still open, but he wasn’t talking.

“Cho—”

“We didn’t give him enough to put him under. He probably can’t talk, but he should be able to at least blink. He can definitely feel when you touch him though.”

“Peter baby, can you blink once if that sounds right?” May cooed, and Peter blinked.

“Does it hurt less, baby? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”

One blink.

Tony sighed in relief.

“Is it numb? No pain?”

Two blinks.

He frowned. That was to be expected though. He rubbed his thumb against Peter’s knuckles, the hand limp in his grasp.

“You should talk to him, Tony. Distract him,” Cho said. He nodded softly, tapping Peter’s cheek to get his attention.

“Let’s shoot the breeze, kiddo. Get yourself out of your head, huh?”

Peter breathed deeply as he tried to push through the pain. He looked at him expectantly.

“So… I guess you heard it’s been five years,” Tony said softly.

One blink.

“Well a lot has happened that I’m sure you want to know about. Pepper and I got married— I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you.” Tony chuckled. The kid’s eyes crinkled a little in what he guessed was a tired smile. “The ceremony was small in the end. It just didn’t feel right to make a huge party after what happened.”

Peter blinked up at him rapidly, and Tony could see the sadness in his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. It was still wonderful. It was nice actually— Only having a few people. Rhodey was there, Happy. Some of Pepper’s family. It was nice. You and that monkey suit I bought you would have fit in well.”

Peter’s eyes flicked to May, and harshly squeezed before blinking again.

“Me?” May asked quickly, furrowing her brow as she tried to decipher his signals.

Peter closed his eyes slowly then snapped them back open.

“May got dusted, Peter. Is that what you’re asking?” Tony said quietly. Peter blinks once and then looked to her pleadingly.

“Yes baby. I did, but it’s okay. It meant I didn’t have to go a single day without you,” May said soothingly, scratching his scalp. He relaxed into her touch. “Ned did too. He called me to check on you. I told him you were going to be okay. He’s going to come see you when you feel better.”

Peter let out a deep breath of relief. He scrunched his face again though, as if the action pained him. Tony scooted closer.

“I had a kid while you were gone,” he said softly. Peter’s eyes fly open, looking at him in shock before blinking like a mad man.

“Okay, okay, Jeez!” Tony laughed, squeezing his hand. “Her name’s Morgan. She’s 4 now. Looks like me and acts like Pepper.”

Peter’s eyes sparkled despite the exhaustion, joy radiating through them. The kid was happy for him.

“I think you’ll like her. She uh— I’ve mentioned you once or twice, and she always seemed interested in you. I bet she’ll like you too.”

Peter’s eyes softened. Tony didn’t know how to interpret it. He pushed on though.

“She doesn’t give me as many heart attacks as you do, though. The worst trouble she gets into is sneaking sweets before bed,” he chuckled, and Peter rolled his eyes with as much energy as he could.

“I don’t think any kid could give you heart attacks like Peter can,” May teased, and Tony snorted

“Only one kid ever came close to giving me a heart attack like he gives me,” Tony said with a shake of his head, flattening his hand on Peter’s sheets. “At Stark Expo 2010, there was this kid— must have been around six or so— that stood toe to toe with one of Hammer’s drones. Do you remember that incident? It was a PR nightmare.”

Peter eyes widened before forcefully blinking.

“What- what is it kid?” Tony asked as he looked to May. She was smiling.

“Did you come up and save that kid? Telling him ‘nice shot?’” she said with a grin, and Tony frowned.

“How did you—”

“You were right, Peter. He did remember you,” she laughed and Peter breathed out what Tony guessed was a chuckle.

“What do you mean? Kid—” Tony clicked his mouth shut before looking at him incredulously. Peter was beaming.

“Oh for fucks sake— That was you?! You were the kid that scared the shit out of me?!” He breathed out in exasperation. He could picture the shit-eating grin Peter was trying to give him.

This kid was going to be the death of him… if the guilt of almost getting a child Peter murdered didn’t kill him first.

“You know I always thought— ‘God that kid must have driven his parents crazy. What is that kid up to?’ and I guess this is it! You’re out here, saving the universe— giving me all the heart attacks I thought were going to be someone else’s problem!”

May snorted next to him.

“We will both need pacemakers at this rate,” she said breezily. “I know I’m going to need one after this.”

Tony hummed in agreement, but he looked down to see guilt in Peter’s eyes.

“Hey-hey…” he chided, squeezing Peter’s hand. “Don’t worry about us, kid. We’re just glad you’re okay. We’ll get you back in shape in no time. Then you can get back to giving us regular sized heart attacks that comes with being a Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman, okay?”

Peter relaxed and blinked once.

“Good man.”

The next few hours pass easily, with May singing songs and Tony droning on about things that had happened in the past five years. Peter never quite fell asleep, the pain keeping  him up, but did seem to fade in and out every once and awhile. Now, about 12 hours after the battle, Tony could barely see straight as the kid zoned out to the sound of May’s humming. He absently stroked the kid’s hand, staring at the heart monitor with the reassuring and steady beeping.

“Tony.”

The man startled at the sound of Bruce’s voice, Peter blinking at the jump of his hand.

“Shhh… Sorry kiddo. Just relax,” Tony said softly, turning to see Bruce looking at him apologetically.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you. Sorry,” he said quietly, leaning over to fiddle with Peter’s medicine. “How are you doing, Peter? Still hurting?”

One blink.

“That means yes,” Tony said tiredly.

“Okay, well I am going to take a few samples and mix them with the medicine I’m making. If it works, I will come back and give you a dose, okay? You should feel a lot better after I give it to you.”

Peter blinked, exhaustion pooling in his eyes, before looking back to Tony.

“You’ll be okay, kid. All of this will be over before you know it.”

Bruce cleared his throat.

“Tony, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked while motioning to the hall. Tony frowned

“I’ll be right back Peter. You hang tight, okay?” he said tightly. God he didn’t want to leave this kid, especially not in a room like this— sterile and foreign— even with May there. Peter blinked in acknowledgment, and May nodded.

He followed Bruce into the empty hall outside of the room, the brighter lights making him squint. It was quiet without the beeping of the monitors, and exhaustion seeped into Tony’s bones in its absence.

“What’s up?” Tony asked as he dragged his hand down his face. 

“I just—. I wanted to check on you,” Bruce said in a hushed tone. “You came straight from a battle with Thanos into the waiting room, and then immediately into Peter’s hospital room. You haven’t left since. I think you need to take a break.”

Tony scoffed.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll just go home and sleep this off while the kid lies in agony. Great idea, Bruce.”

“Tony, listen to me,” Bruce said softly, placing his big hand on Tony’s shoulder. Tony’s eyes looked anywhere but his face, not wanting to hear what he had to say. “I know you want to stay by his side, but you are going to collapse if you don’t take a breather. The kid wouldn’t want that. Pepper’s at a hotel with everyone else— why don’t you go see her? You have another kid wondering where you are.”

“Low blow using my daughter, Brucey,” Tony said with a scowl. After a moment, he sighed, rubbing at his neck. “And you’ll call me if anything happens?”

Bruce smiled softly. “I promise. The medicine should be done in about 12 hours if the tests are successful. We don’t know the long term effects of the stones, but so far everything seems to be progressing without damaging him. We are playing the waiting game now, and you have to sleep when you can.”

“I’ll be back in four hours max,” Tony said as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Eight,” Bruce said firmly.

“Six, and that’s my final offer.”

Bruce sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Okay. I will see you in six hours minimum.”

“FRI, start a timer.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Tell him you’ll be back soon.”

“Yeah yeah… Whatever you say, Doc Green,” Tony said with a small smirk.

Bruce returned it with his own lopsided grin.

“Fatherhood looks good on you, by the way. You’re suited for it.”

Tony scoffed, a fond look in his eyes.

“Yeah, yuck it up. Just go make my kid some medicine.”

He turned on his heels, pushing through the doors quietly as to not disturb Peter. May looked up at him in exhaustion and motions for him to sit down.

Tony returned to his chair, grabbing the kid’s attention and brushing through his curls.

“Hey kiddo. I’ve been sentenced to bed by the Jolly Green PhD— says something about staying up after a fight isn’t good on my body. Personally, I think I could run a marathon right now, but the good doctor could not be convinced.”

Peter blinked up at him, worry on his face.

“I’ll be back, don’t worry,” he said, but Peter blinked firmly twice. Tony frowned.

“I think he’s telling you to take care of yourself,” May said softly. “When you get back, I’ll take a break too. I haven’t been fighting aliens, so I’m good to go for a few more hours.”

Peter relaxed at her words, looking up at him pleadingly.

“Jeez kid… You shouldn’t be worrying about me when you’re the one in the hospital bed,” he chuckled, but the guilt still sits heavily in his stomach. This kid was here because of him, after all. He shouldn’t be leaving his side. “I’ll be back in six hours. I don’t think Bruce will let me back in a minute sooner.”

Peter blinked once and then closed his eyes, May returning her fingers to his hair and smiling at him.

“Tony… Thank you,” she said as he started to stand. “For being here.”

Tony blushed. These last five years have definitely made him less emotionally constipated, because he doesn’t brush off the comment.

“Of course. I’ll be back soon.”

May nodded, and Tony stepped outside. Exhaustion washed over him as he walked down the hall, catching a ride with a shield agent to the hotel everyone was staying at. His mind was numb now that he was out of the room, and he could barely keep his eyes open through the ride, the trees and headlights blurring before him.

When he arrived at the hotel, he was too tired to really take in his surroundings, but he did notice the beautiful mop of golden hair that stood in the lobby, soothingly talking into her phone.

“Pep.”

Pepper turned when she heard his voice, murmuring something into the speaker. She rushed to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him softly. She brought her phone to her ear.

“Yes, Daddy’s right here. Everything’s okay.”

Tony motioned for her to give him the phone, and he could cry with relief when he heard his little girl’s voice on the other end.

“Daddy! I saw Spiderman on the TV!” she squealed, and Tony chuckled fondly.

“Yeah, Baby. He saved everyone,” he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He couldn’t let her hear how tired he was.

“Is he hurt? He looked hurt,” she said sadly, and Tony’s heart clenched. Pepper looked up at him expectantly.

“He’s a little banged up, but he will be okay. He’s resting right now.”

“You should rest too, Daddy,” she said firmly, and he could picture her little nose scrunching up as she laid out orders. This was definitely Pepper Potts’ kid.

“Okay, sweetheart. I will rest. When Spiderman is better, you can come visit him,” he said with a small smile, and an excited squeal echoes in his ear.

“I get to meet Petey! Daddy, tell him to get better soon!”

Tony chuckled. The thought of his kids meeting was like a dream, and he held onto the thought as he tried to ease the anxieties that came with being away from both of them.

“I will baby.”

Pepper took the phone back, wishing Morgan goodnight before turning back to him.

“How is he really, Tony?” she asked quietly, her hand clenching on his shirt.

“He’s hurting, but Bruce says he should have medicine ready soon. I’ve been ordered to rest up for… Five hours and 42 minutes.”

Pepper smiled fondly before pulling him towards their room.

“You clean up and then get in bed. I could use some sleep too.”

Tony nodded as he headed to the room and into shower, watching the blood of battle wash down the drain. He absently ran through the motions before climbing into bed next to her.

“Just try and close your eyes for as long as you can. He will be here when you wake up,” she said as she pulled him close to her, running her hands through his hair. Tony nodded.

Thoughts of his kids playing by the lake-side lulled him to sleep.

[naancypants]

maybe this is perfect

Wrote this after 2x12 (+ updated to reflect news about 2x13 & 2x14, hehe) as a sort of speculative confession scene for the finale episode. I hope you enjoy, and I will be polishing this/publishing on Ao3 shortly 💜

2,096 words

—————————————

"Hey," Nancy says from behind, twisting both hands around the strap of her messenger bag. "Can we talk?"

At the sound of her voice, Ace straightens from in front of his locker. He lets out a close-mouthed sigh as her words sink into his stomach, and when he turns towards her, the discomfort she's feeling becomes evident in her body language.

"Yeah," he breathes out.

A beat passes where neither makes a move.

Nancy is the first to take a step. "You've been avoiding me for a while now. Ever since the whole.. life-and-death thing with Daniel West." she takes in a shuddering breath, "And I'm sorry that I was willing to let people die to save you. I thought that you would understand, that you would've done the same thing-"

"It's not about the list," Ace cuts in with a shake of his head, "That was a long time ago."

In reality it had only been a few weeks since Nancy and Grant traded a hit list to a professional killer to spare Ace's life, but time seems to move inordinately slow in Horseshoe Bay.

"I know. But that was also the same time I called in for a favor with Celia Hudson..." she allows her sentence to drift off there, urging Ace to connect the unspoken dots.

He hadn't tried to hide his feelings on the situation with Celia, especially whenever he and Nancy talked one-on-one. Yet still, her ability to pinpoint the root of behaviors she already notices in him never fails to surprise.

He clears his throat. "I just... wish you would have consulted me before you made a deal with the devil."

Nancy recalls a recent talk during which she was alone with Ace where he'd briefly confessed his dismay at Nancy's dealings with the Hudson matriarch. A string of monotone words all run together as she attempts to explain, "We already went over this, Ace. I-I-I had to figure out how to save you, there was no time to consider my options."

"Maybe it wasn't worth it."

Within a second, revulsion twists every feature on Nancy's face. "I'm sorry, what?" she demands.

Ace doesn't elaborate. Instead he lifts his raincoat from its hook and shuts the door to his locker, staring down at the garment in his hands with a shameful expression. It isn't long before Nancy has his elbow in a firm grip.

"Hey," she convinces him to whirl around and face her. "You're worth it to me."

You're always worth it to me. You're worth everything to me. A thousand times over, she wants to say. But she doesn't.

"I guess that's my problem."

"Your problem is that I care about you?"

"I don't want to be the reason you sell your soul to the Hudsons."

Nancy blinks, her ferocity weakening as she pulls away. "Aren't I allowed to make my own choices?"

"Of course. But... that doesn't mean I have to like them."

The way he says it is so casual, so lacking in venom that it makes her stomach wrench. He doesn't realize that the only approval Nancy craves is his; she is willing to stand up against even the closest of people in her life - Nick, George, her own father - but not Ace. His opinion of her serves as a compass whenever Nancy is too tired or worn down to trust her own judgment. His opinion is the one that matters most.

If there's anything Nancy can't stand, it's being clouded over with emotion, but the tightness in her throat only warns of an oncoming flood.

"Then what do you want from me? Tell me what I can do to make it better."

It's the most breakable, the most desperate she thinks she's heard herself. Nancy Drew is independent and decisive and strong. So whose voice is it that wobbles in fear, laying down her pride in the hands of another?

An exhale leaves Ace's lungs, heavy with the weight of uncertainties he can't quite place his finger on.

"Honestly? I don't know right now, Nancy. Maybe just... help me understand why before you make these kinds of decisions. I don't want you to get hurt."

Their eyes linger for what feels like an eternity, distanced by walls that neither of them know how to tear down.

When Ace moves, he turns decisively away.

Panic beginning to swell in her chest, Nancy pushes past all the other emotions running through her mind - fear, guilt, vulnerability - and takes one last step into the room before he has the chance to get away.

"I did it because I love you."

If anything could stop him cold in his tracks, it's that particular confession. His eyes meet the floor in front of him, speechless and calculating, each second ticking by in tense silence. He turns to face her once more.

There in the center of the room she stands, the bold and courageous girl detective herself, looking smaller than ever. Her voice is steady, but barely above a whisper now, "Ace... I think I might be in love with you."

Ace stands motionless in awe, save for a swallow and quick shift of his weight.

When Nancy gets nervous, she often rambles to relieve some of her tension. "I didn't know how to say it before, and I- have never actually been in love so maybe I didn't even know what I was feeling until recently, but, you were with Amanda Bobbsey and not in love with me and it's all... very confusing..."

Breath leaves her lungs as quickly as words leave her tongue, anxiety shaking her down to the core. She blinks when the self-awareness sets in, lowering her gaze to the floor for a length of awkward silence.

"Nancy."

Eventually she looks back up to find him just a few feet away now, having crossed the room sometime after she finished prattling on about nothing. His raincoat hits the bench.

"There are a lot of reasons why I can't do this right now." He indicates himself with a curved hand to his chest.

Though her heart sinks, Nancy's eyelids still flutter. "But you- you would? Hypothetically?"

His mouth flattens into something that's not quite a smile, eyes as earnest as ever. "It's just that... y'know, Amanda's only been gone for a week. And I don't want to lose what we have - what all of us have."

"You won't," Nancy states with a furrowed brow, "Why do you think you would lose us?"

He bobs his head a bit. "Things could get complicated between us. Especially considering... things."

"What do you mean? What kind of things?"

"Well, I'm not trying to point fingers, but... there is your track record. With relationships."

It doesn't escape her attention that he refuses to make eye contact when he says the last part. She tenses up and repeats, "My track record?"

Ace opens his mouth to soften the words, but the look on his face is enough to suffice as an apology. Nancy retreats on her own as three particular guys - Ned Nickerson, Owen Marvin and Gil Bobbsey - flash through her mind's eye. Guys she had used as a distraction, a rebound, and a means of empty sexual gratification, all of which Ace witnessed firsthand from the sidelines.

"Yeah I deserve that, don't I," she says quietly.

"No, you don't. That part's fine. It's about everything else."

"Everything else being the Hudsons, Amanda, and losing what we have."

He offers only a nod. Draws in a breath. "Nancy, I want to love you too. And I'm not saying that I don't, but..." his voice breaks, just a bit, but enough for Nancy to notice.

"...It's not the right time," she finishes for him with a resigned nod; "yeah," under her breath.

This time it's Nancy who won't meet Ace's eyes. She darts them all across the room in avoidance, lips pursing together. "I'm- I'm sorry. This is.. not really who I am and I probably shouldn't have said anything to begin with, but-"

"No - no, don't apologize," Ace says with the usual gentle firmness and a slight tilt of his head. "I'm glad you said something. Really glad. In fact, um, if you're not opposed... there is something I wouldn't mind trying before you go off to Columbia."

"Ha. Who says I'm getting into Columbia?" she asks sardonically, crossing her arms.

Ace gives a subtle grin of support. "You'll get into Columbia."

She stops to consider his words, but then emits a soft chuckle, smiling gratefully at her best friend as though there were no mistakes, no confession of feelings, no heartbreak to contend with.

Time drags on as his vague statement from before remains unaccounted for, though almost as if pulled by gravity, there's a mutual instinct that draws them closer together.

Along with instinct, however, is hesitation - a slowness in the way they line themselves up, a caution in the way they read each others' eyes. Gradually his hands find their way to her jawline and before she knows it, in stark contrast to their prior pace, her back is up against metal with the most satisfying warmth she's ever known on her lips.

Nancy's entire body lights on fire, so much that it takes a dazed moment before she is able to react. Her eyebrows lift as she takes full advantage of the moment and locks her hands around the space above his elbows, kissing him back with the fervor of months worth of pent-up feelings all finally coming to surface; hands crawl upwards from his arms, to his shoulders, and eventually land on either side of his neck.

For a few rapturous seconds, they allow themselves to melt entirely into each other with the realization that things won't be like this again for a while; not until they're able to overcome the doubts, the obstacles, the emotional walls that they both know would cause more harm than good if they were to pursue this now.

Maybe this is perfect. Maybe one kiss - one blissful, ravenous taste of just what it is they're missing out on is enough to satiate their appetites for the time being and prepare them for what's to come.

With one last surge forward, hands sliding down his chest, Nancy realizes that kissing Ace never even felt this good in her dreams.

Then, sooner rather than later, it's over.

Though their lips disconnect, everything else remains. A breathless minute comes and goes before either have any words to speak.

"Are you- are you sure you don't want to change your mind?" Nancy finally asks through her teeth, eyes drifting down to his mouth more than once.

A quirk tugs at his face as he steps back, hands remaining on Nancy's forearms for perhaps a touch longer than necessary. "Few more of those and I might."

Nancy gives a wistful giggle, using her shoulders to launch herself away from the lockers right when her phone buzzes.

Ace watches with curiosity as she opens her latest text notification, but waits silently to be filled in.

"It's George. She says they're waiting for us at the Claw," Nancy murmurs with her brow lowered, looking at Ace for a potential answer to her confusion.

Rarely one to disappoint, Ace nods in recognition. "Oh yeah, they took it upon themselves to reschedule game night. I was supposed to tell you."

Nancy raises her eyebrows in good spirit. "Ah. Well, I'm sure glad you told me with plenty of time to spare."

"Come to think of it, Bess pretty much insisted I be the one to tell you. The whole thing must've been a ruse."

Nancy shrugs. "Eh! You know what they say. What's done is done." she waits a beat before thumbing towards the back door over her shoulder. "Join me?"

"Yeah," Ace agrees as he grabs his raincoat and the pair start walking out. "Yeah but I have to warn you, none of what just transpired is going to have any affect on how mercilessly I demolish you in Absurd Code Word."

"Wow, Ace, I think you're underestimating my game night abilities. Have you ever seen me in Absurd Code Word?"

"Don't need to."

"I see. Is it because I'm a girl?"

"C'mon, Nancy. You know me better than that."

The ease with which they're able to shift gears serves as a delicate reminder of how intrinsically they are connected; the level of comfort and stability within their potential when the time is right.

Whenever that may be.

[timetoresurface]

AU PAIR (2) / PJM

au pair a young foreign person, typically a woman, who helps with housework or childcare in exchange for food, a room, and some pocket money.

Word: this is my first try and therefore my best try yet, cursive is real life English and all other dialogue happens in Korean Pairing: reader x Jimin Genre: fluff, romance, meet cute (x3) Warnings: none Word count: 2972 words Summary: you working as an au pair in Seoul where you entertain and teach English to a cute Korean girl who happens to be a huge BTS fan 

PART 1

“Did you have fun today?” You asked Young Mi which only resulted in her crying harder. Ever since you had left the building to the parking lot she had started to cry. You noticed an ice cream truck at the other side of the road. You picked her up and carried her over to the truck.

“Can I have one cone with chocolate and banana? Also one with…” you expectedly looked at Young Mi who’s tears started to fade. 

“Mint chocolate.” She sniffed. You thanked and payed the seller and started walking toward the side of the road. 

The sun was shining hard against the pavement and you felt your ice cream melt under the glowing sun. Mimi sat on the ground licking her mint chocolate treat. It won’t be long before she grows out of this crying childlike behavior and would start to blossom into an independent teen. The thought kind of hurt your feelings. How long were you going to stay in this family? When will they notice that their little girl isn’t a little girl anymore? What will you do when that happens? Go back home? 

“Y/N! Your dripping your ice cream all over me.” Mimi cried out loud and you entered the real world again where the young Mimi still needed you.

“I’m sorry, Young Mi, I was just thinking about our dance routine. I don’t think I fully remember it. Maybe you can show me once more?” Some people might say white lies are also lies, and yes most of the time you do agree, but somethings are better left unsaid. We’re both aware of our short time together, so we both kind of try to ignore it and enjoy our time as much as we can.

“It is not that difficult, Y/N. You just have to move your foot like this.” With the almost forgotten ice cream in her right hand, she showed you the moves. You followed her lead and started to dance with her. Mistakes were made and some ice cream might have been spilled, but the laughs that bursted out of the both of you were real, and to any outsider heartwarming.

“I think this might be easier with music.” You said after a while. “But first we should throw away our ice cream as we’re barely eating them.” Young Mi agreed and took your ice cream to the trash can while you searched for your phone. A smile crept on your face as you remembered Jimin taking it from your hands. He really did that, you know. With the grin still on your face because of the fresh new memories, you put on DNA by BTS, yours and Mimi’s favorite song and most rehearsed dance routine.

You both stood next to each other when the music started playing. Young Mi wore the cutest ‘concentration face’ and you couldn’t help but adore her even more because of it. The first moves were a bit off but you managed to get back in to the rhythm. It was no secret that you were no dancer. Hell, before Mimi you hadn’t even danced before not counting the hip swinging in clubs or the head banging at concerts. She really had the talent to make you do things you didn’t even want to do but in the end loved doing. 

When you were finished you carried Mimi on your back while the sweat was dripping from your hair to your back. She happily cried in your ear while you took her to a bit of shadow. You were both overheated and you didn’t want to get a sunstroke or worse, a sunburn. 

“Wow Y/N, I didn’t expect you were the dancing kind.” A voice behind you said. You immediately put Mimi down and turned around to the person who the beautiful voice belonged to. His voice was like honey to your ears, like his voice was meant to make you feel a little bit weaker in the knees and lighter in the head. You could blame it on the dancing or the warm sun but he definitely played a part in you being out of breath and blushing like the reddest tomato in the world.

“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” His eyes widened in surprise, like he didn’t expect you to have a comeback.

“I can’t disagree with you as we only met today in a very crowded room.”

“A very crowded room filled with children and people screaming your name, if I might add. So I guess it was really hard for you to focus on me and my hidden talents.” 

“It wasn’t really difficult to be honest.” A blush found its way on his face and you couldn’t help but smile. The color reminded you of the cherry blossoms that were everywhere in Seoul. “Not that I was stalking you or anything. I just think you’re different from the others and you caught my eye.” He tried to explain himself, how cute. 

“Well, as you might have noticed, I’m not Korean so I usually don’t blend in that easily. So that’s why you didn’t find it hard to focus on me.” 

Just a little side note. You didn’t say the above because you are insecure or think little of yourself. You really do love yourself and all your little flaws that come along with you being you. The problem is that you just can’t believe a guy like him thinks you stand out in a crowd. Like you’re a splash of color in a black and white world he’s trying to understand. You just decided that he was friendly and he tried everything in his power to make you feel at ease. Jimin really was a kind soul and him explaining himself only proved his considerate and compassionate side.

“No! That’s not it.” His hand went to his hair and he brushed his fingers through it. “I just think you are really beautiful. And not because you are not Korean, but because your smile definitely lit up the room. Or it at least did for me.” His hand was still in his hair as he awkwardly smiled. Young Mi coughed next to us, and for a second I forgot she was even there. So had Jimin apparently, as he immediately put his hand down into the pockets of his black jeans. 

“Thank you, that is obviously the best compliment a girl can get. The  only problem is that I now feel obligated to smile more whenever you’re close, when the only thing I seem to be able to do around you is blush.” Of course this was said with a huge blush on your face but he didn’t seem to mind. The contrary, it almost felt like he was looking rather fondly at you.

His phone started to make noise and he urgently took the call while you and Young Mi awkwardly looked at each other. He mumbled some words while turning away from us. You stumblingly tried to flatten out your t-shirt as it had gotten some wrinkles by carrying Mimi while being sweaty. The moment you two just shared was over and you were more than ready to enter the real world again. A world where Jimin had never looked at you like that and your heart hadn’t skipped a beat whenever he brushed his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry, I have to go now. We still have some things to take care of.” The look in his eyes you couldn’t decipher so you just smiled.

“Yes of course, you are busy. Please don’t be late because of us. Until our next awkward meet, Jimin.” You bowed and took Mimi’s arm while guiding the both of you toward your car. 

“Third time is the charm, isn’t it? Until next time.” He yelled after you and you couldn’t resist to turn your head to catch a last glimpse of the boy who could so easily steal your heart if he really wanted to. 

You couldn’t get the image out of your head. The way his eyes lit up every time he smiled at you or how his hand had nervously ruffled through his blond hair. The cotton pink blush on his cheeks. The way his t-shirt had lifted a little bit while waiving you and Young Mi goodbye. The boy really did know how to make an impression. 

A couple of days had passed and life continued like it had before meeting Jimin. You didn’t expect to see him again. Well, maybe at a concert with Mimi or something, but never as close as you were just a week ago. The thought saddens you heart but you had other things to worry about.

“Y/N where is my blue pajama? Have you seen it?” As usual Mimi transported you back in to the real world of an au pair. Constantly obeying the kid’s needs and wishes. Young Mi wasn’t really needy but when she really wanted something, she could be a huge pain in the ass. You sat on the floor searching through al her clothes looking for the one blue pajama. 

“Can’t you just wear the cute yellow one with ruffles?” You desperately asked as you couldn’t find the little blue clothing item. The look Mimi made was enough to continue searching and never ask such a dumb thing in the future.

“I need the blue one as Mi-hi will wear a pink pajama, Sook will wear something yellow, so I really want to wear blue.” She went into a frenzy explaining why she needed the blue one because all the other girls had different colors. When you were younger it didn’t really matter what color your pajama was, as long as you brought the best DVD or CD with you. Times change and so does young girl behavior.

“You will keep looking through these clothes, try not to make too much of a mess, and I will go and check the laundry room.” We both shook hands and continued with our quest. The laundry room was your least favorite room in the house because it reminded you of home. This family used the same fabric softener as your mom and even though everyones clothes smelled like it, the room always brought you back home. 

As expected, as soon as you opened the door you were greeted by the familiar smell of lavender. Ignoring the guilty feeling of not having called your mom today, you look through the neatly folded laundry you had forgotten to take with you. A sigh left your lips when you recognized the blue pajama Mimi was talking about. Luckily for you freshly washed just yesterday.

“I got your blue pajama’s.” A high pitched scream echoed through the house. Young mi found its way toward you and quickly pulled the blue clothes out of your hands.

“Thank you so much Y/N. I will never forget this.” If you hand’t noticed already, she has a bit of a dramatic personalty. Which perfectly matched your more down to earth kind of vibe. You balance each other out.

“You are welcome but we really have to go now if you don’t want to be late to your sleepover.” 

“Yes, I only need to pack this pajama and then I’m ready to go. Give me a minute.”

And as she said, she was almost ready by the door in under 5 minutes. You were still putting on your shoes which resulted in a scolding look from an eleven year old. “I’m trying the best I can Young Mi, no need to give me such a look.” She sometimes forgets that I’m supposed to be the boss, teacher, older person in this friendship and so you have to remind her from time to time. It has nothing to do with disrespect but it was her dramatic, emotional side that sometimes won over the rational, respectful side. 

“I’m sorry noona.” 

“It is fine sweetie, but don’t try any of this behavior at the sleepover. The mother will most definitely call me if you are misbehaving.” She respectfully nodded and you ventured outside with a little wounded girl. 

As mentioned before you lived in a spectacular penthouse in one of Seoul’s most expensive towers. There is only one building more luxurious and that’s where you were headed just now. Mi-Hi is Young Mi’s best friend and also the most popular (and richest) girl at their school. How you show yourself to the outside world had to be perfect. So you had brushed out your hair and wore your favorite dress especially for the occasion. 

You both had decided to walk toward the sleepover. It’s a 10 minute walk in one of the better neighborhoods in Seoul but you still held Mimi’s hand. She had the tendency to run toward dogs, birds, cats and sometimes other children. Every time I try to explain Young Mi to people (my family and friends back home) I usually just say she is a loose cannon. You never know what she’s going to do or say. And as much as you love her personalty, it could be very difficult to babysit her. The first week as her au pair was a living hell as you never really had taken care of such a free spirited kid before.

Nevertheless, you both had found a way to make this work. After a month together it felt like you had known each other your whole life. Maybe that’s why it is so hard to let her go. You had entered the building safely and talked to the receptionist. He greeted Young Mi with a huge smile on his face and told us to take elevator number five. You did as you were told and as Mimi stepped out of the elevator leaving you all alone, you felt a little bit empty inside. Young Mi sensed my hollowness and smiled, waived and did a thumbs up until the elevator closed again leading me all the way downstairs. 

Instead of going back down the elevator shot up to the top floor. You felt a little uneasy as you didn’t look the part of being someone who could afford a place here. You did look exceptionally great today but that still didn’t mean you looked like a billionaire’s wife. 

The doors opened and you lowered your head afraid to attract attention of the single man entering. Your gaze was kept low but you couldn’t resist a quick glance toward his muscular frame. The moment you looked up, you were met with the perfect dark brown eyes you had fantasied about the past week. A smirk entered his face as recognition was shared between the both of you. 

“Y/N? Right?” He asked in disbelief and you simply nodded. “You are not stalking me right?” Your eyes widened in shock as you realized how this looked.

“No! I dropped Young Mi off at a sleepover. And I did press the button back down but the elevator shot upwards instead of going directly down.” You rattled which only resulted in Jimin holding onto the elevator while laughing uncontrollably. “I am speaking the truth. I was not stalking you. I promise. Maybe we should go back toward the sleepover so you have some proof.”

“I don’t th-“ Jimin started but you quickly interrupted him. “No we don’t have to do that as the receptionist saw me entering with Young Mi. Let’s go and ask him.” You rapidly ran out of the elevator toward the man who could help you cover your innocent alibi. You’ve heard enough stories about these crazy fans who would do anything to even get a glimpse of them during private time. You were not going done as one of them. 

“Y/N!” Jimin shouted after you but you were quick on your feet and were already standing next to the unsuspecting man. Jimin chuckled and joined the conversation. 

“Ah, yes, miss Young Mi. We are in direct contact with 23B so if there is something wrong they will immediately dial us to help with whatever situation is going on. I doubt there will be any incident as there never has been one before.” The receptionist thought you were only concerned about Young Mi’s safety and tried his best to make you feel safe. He hadn’t even looked at Jimin who had joined your conversation. Jimin looked amused but waited until we were out of earshot to start laughing. 

After a couple of seconds he noticed you weren’t laughing alongside him and he looked up into your worried eyes. You try to understand the look in his eyes but you just can’t put your finger in it. 

“I never really thought you were a stalker. I just occasionally like to joke around. I am really sorry.” He bowed during the last words, just like you had when you first met.

“It is not really funny as you do have really crazy fans out there who would do that. Who could make you feel unsafe or uneasy. I don’t want to be that person, you know.”

“I feel like my sorry can’t be expressed properly through words. Let’s go and have dinner. My treat.” It almost felt like it was natural to him to just ask you out. Or maybe he wasn’t asking you out and was he just being friendly. He noticed the panicked expression on your face and quickly added “-I was just going out to get some food for myself and I wouldn’t mind the company. Also I think your night is free as Young Mi is safely at a sleepover.” You nodded. “Ok. I’ll take that nod as a yes. Now quickly before you change your mind.”