#I was scrolling and wasn’t paying attention anyway but she knew I was in line like girl
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tariah23 · 1 year ago
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An elderly lady complimented my hair today and asked me how I “got it like that,” and she was so 🥺… (so cute… )
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scarletst0ries · 5 months ago
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Strings Attached
Cater Diamond x f!reader(Evangaline)
Who is Evangaline?
Hurt/Comfort(don’t really know how to label it)
Can be read as romantic or platonic
3rd person Cater pov
Content Warnings: Dolls, Potentially OOC, Body image issues.
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Cater Diamond walked out of Trien’s classroom, quickly snapping a photo for Magicam. He tucked himself into an alcove of the halls and opened the editing menu.
Those dark circles are totes not cammable
Erased with a quick push of a button.
His eyes? Brightened.
His face? Slimmed down.
Cater worked until the photo looked like one of his clones instead of himself. As close to perfect as he could get.
Still. Not. Good. Enough.
He sighed and posted it anyway.
#Totesstudious#NRCpride#Cooking
He put his phone away and willed that picture perfect grin back on his face, but it never quite reached his eyes. He casually strolled through the halls, waving and making small greetings to students he knew. He continued with his day, never quite looking away from his phone. If it wasn’t shoved in his face, it was in his hand or back pocket. When he wasn’t paying attention, he was scrolling through his analytics, taking note on what succeeded and what didn’t. Even when he was having a conversation, he was clocking their mannerisms and language, seeing what was now being phased out and replaced.
He needed to be relevant.
“Hey keep moving!”
Cater looked up from his phone to see that a student had bumped into his back.
“Oh my b. I’m sooo srry about that!” Cater twirled a strand of hair between his fingers and tried to de-escalate the situation, however the student wasn’t happy. He grabbed Cater’s phone and wrestled it out of his hand.
“Maybe you’ll learn to keep walking if you don’t have your precious little screen…” The student sneered and threw it onto the ground, infusing it with a spell so it shattered into a million pieces. He laughed and swaggered off, leaving Cater to look at the broken pieces.
“Is the SIM card okay?” A cold, feminine voice appeared behind him. He turned to find a girl in with long dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her expression was bored and even though she looked to be a year younger than him, she had an air of someone much older.
“I’m sorry…the what?” He replied, trying desperately to keep his mask in place.
“The SIM card. Holds all the data,” She crouched down and inspected the pieces and picked up a small chip and pocketed it. She looked down at the remains of the phone and started to pick up the pieces.
“Whoa there bestie, Cay-Cay’s flattered, but I can just buy a new phone. It’s totes easy!”
“I can fix it for cheaper.”
Somehow, she had convinced him to walk with her to Ignihyde and into her dorm room. It looked like how he expected an Ignihyde student’s to look with a large monitor set up and tinkering table, but this girl’s walls were lined with dolls. Haunted looking dolls. He cringed.
“So uh what’s your name? Or should I call you dollface?” He chuckled.
She didn’t look up from her workbench,“Evangaline. Second year, before you ask.”
The next hour was filled with Cater asking Evangaline questions and her replying in short, clipped, monotoned sentences.
Where was she from?
Shaftlands. Not in the best part of town.
Siblings?
One younger sister.
Dolls?
Hobby.
Finally she finished his phone and handed it to him, he snatched it eagerly and found that it worked the same, if not better than before. He smiled at her, and this time, it reached his eyes.
“Thanks Evie~!” He winked.
She rolled her eyes, but a small smirk tugged at her lips, “Don’t call me that.”
He let out an apologetic laugh, “Whatevs you want Eva. What do I owe you?”
She paused for a moment, “If you see a vintage doll in the mystery shop, pick it up for me. Sam has a interesting selection of marionettes���
Cater nodded and left. A month later, Cater saw a small portrait of a marionette preforming onstage at Sam’s shop. He bought it and gifted it to her with ‘cammable wrapping.
It sits on her desk.
_________________________________________
Ty for reading❤️
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forevfangirlwrites · 2 years ago
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i had this idea for hthf: what if percy met luke? even though percabeths relationship is private, maybe percy goes with her to an awards show or premiere (skipping the red carpet or not), and at the after party like is there and says hello to annabeth (since it’s mentioned they had an amicable break and im assumed that means they’re on decent terms) and while percy’s more secure in the relationship now than he was when he first found out he dated, he’s still very 🧐
-It’s Percy’s first time going to an event with her so needless to say he’s nervous but as Annabeth explained, afterparties are pretty informal and all you really need to do is stand there with a glass in hand and he thinks he can handle that
-He sticks to her side like glue for most of it, and she introduces him to a few people who he vaguely recognizes and some who he’s only seen on the screen before. (He’s used to it now though, mostly) That is until she tells him she has to go to the bathroom and he’s left standing awkwardly by a table.
-No one is paying attention to him anyway but he tries to get a glimpse of Will or Jason in hopes he can also seem like he knows people other than Annabeth here. Neither of them are in view though
-He’s scrolling through his phone when a guy bumps into him and almost makes him spill his drink. Thankfully it doesn’t cause it’s his first real properly fitted suit he’s ever owned (a gift from Annabeth) and he doesn’t want to ruin the first time he wears it
-“Shit sorry, did I get you?” the other guys says and Percy assures him he’s fine. Something about the guy looks vaguely familiar and he’s trying to place what show or movie he must have seen this guy in when he continues. “You’re Percy Jackson right?”
-A few people, upon introduction, had said something along the lines of “oh this is Percy, yes we saw the magazine covers” but no one has flat out recognized him and it’s actually kind of shocking
-“Uh yeah…” He tries to figure out how to ask the guy who he is but it’s going to come across as rude especially since he recognized someone like Percy
-The guy nods, clearly about to say something else when a hand on his arm makes him turn to see that Annabeth has returned and slipped her hand back into his arm.
-“Luke,” she says and suddenly everything clicks into place. “How are you?”
-He’s not going to be any type of way about this, is what he tells himself. Yet he’s pretty sure he stiffened a little at Annabeth saying her ex’s name and it’s probably way more obvious than he wanted it to be
-“Good, and I see you’re doing good too, I’m glad.” Luke replies with a smile and it’s nice and all but Percy just wants the conversation to end (or to melt into the darkness, that would work too)
-Annabeth leans even closer to him and squeezes his arm where she’s holding it. “Yep.” (Okay so maybe that felt good).
-“Well, see you around Annabeth, nice meeting you Percy,” Luke nods towards them and with a wave he walks away and Percy can finally breathe again.
-“You okay?” Annabeth asks and though he is okay, he is kinda tired of being here. But it’s Annabeth’s thing and he doesn’t want to be rude. It must show on his face though because the next thing she says sounds like music to his ears.
-“You want to dip?” She doesn’t even wait for an answer and pulls him along. And it’s not till they’re in her car with Frank at the wheel does he finally slump in the seat. He gets why Annabeth always comes back tired, these things are a little exhausting.
-“Sorry about Luke, I didn’t think he’d come up to you.” Annabeth had only briefly talked about Luke before this and all he knew was that they both realized it wasn’t going to work and decided to break up. There wasn’t any ill-will and he thinks that Luke was probably just curious to meet him (He is the one dating Annabeth Chase after all)
-He assures her it’s okay but the nervous look on her face doesn’t disappear, well not until they’re back home and he’s kissing her senseless because he’d been holding back the moment he saw her in that dress
MORE CHAPTERS: how to handle fame and headcanons
A/N: Thank you for the prompt! I decided to write it in this format just to switch things up a  bit and it ended up being almost 700 words lol I hope you liked how it turned out! Thanks again!
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shakapuffin · 2 years ago
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^Alert Two Hour Season 1 Finale: 1x09 “Brianna” and 1x10 “Max” Promo
Alert 1x08 “Craig” Review
here are my thoughts on this weeks episode, spoilers ahead so if u haven’t watched, i’d scroll😁:
- okay so i was actually excited in the beginning and even until the middle! it was good… and i was confused why i was on the edge of my seat to see what happened next, it’s not normal for this show (sorry to say) THEN what the hell happened? it just lost ALL momentum, keith’s mystery was done, and the case came back! bruh, i was actually excited! now i’m disappointed, like really disappointed. my hopes were high tho lol.
- honestly, i didn’t really pay too much attention to the case, i know that’s probs not good but ya know what i was way more interested in keith and that whole mess! but i will say, i do like how mike got a chance in the line light this episode. i’m more interested in mike than C or Kemi, sorry to say. but i think it was interesting and it did flip halfway thru the episode but i also knew that was going to happen. like they already dropped the hint that mikes father betrayed him or something and then that guy that was his second father betrayed him (haha can u tell i really only paid attention to the keith mystery?)
- finally the family had a meeting, with everyone in the same room; jason, nikki, sidney and keith! i like the conflict! finally jason is realizing that might not be his kid. anyways, the whole build up to get the bone structure/dna back was literally annoying. like how the hell did C get this job? he’s eating gummy worms and not doing his freaking job! like dude you’ve had this skeleton for so long!! he should’ve gotten it done weeks ago! C just annoyed me this episode, he really wasn’t helpful except for finding out that the skeleton wasn’t keith.
- ya it’s maybe a bit crazy that jason just completely flipped his lid and physically attacked keith but honestly if someone random was pretending to be your son, ya there would be a pretty intense reaction! but honestly i like the drama and conflict so i liked that scene. i thought scott was great in that scene (there were glimpses of his father when jason was losing it, it was crazy how quickly my brain flashed to james caan).
- i still don’t really believe that keith is actually keith. but i have a weird feeling that the show is just gonna run with it, that mystery is solved and now for the finale they’ll venture into his kidnapping. like they hyped up the whole season for it to not be keith and then they do this. it would’ve been way better and a longer storyline (if there’s a season 2?) if they have him not be keith and have jason, nikki and sidney either accept him or not. it would bring more conflict and intersting storylines! maybe they’ll still do that but idk… it can’t just be happy ending because if they’re planning for a second season, what are they gonna don’t for their B and C storylines? not gonna lie, this season felt like a miniseries or something with only 1 season.
- sidney flipped way too quickly from not believing him to accepting keith. that was way too quick! it was like whiplash! maybe she’s faking? idk. if that’s real then that’s really really bad writing. no person could/would ever just flip that quickly to believe someone that they thought was an imposter every other episode this season.
- also u really expect us to believe there was another body in the lake the same age, same build, same basically everything as 12 year old keith? like really? come on!! it was too coincidental. and if they except us to just accept it, that’s bad writing.
- i hated the ending! it was stupid. i mean ya it was a good way for all of the storylines for the episode to come to a close but besides that… it was just weird. i’ve learned just to stop questioning kemi’s techniques. that just might be me idk.
- overall, i was lowkey disappointed. scott was good this episode (esp in those emotional scenes), im def bias, and i am sad for the show to end- not because of the storylines or show but literally just for scott, i have really enjoyed seeing scott on my screen every week. i thought dania was fine, whatever, i’ll keep saying it but she just has to stop calling everyone baby. i liked ryan broussard (mike)! i thought graham verchere (keith) was really good, he gets some hate but i like him! i liked fivel stewart (sidney), she’s great, but really how can they really pass her off as a high schooler? petey gibson (C) was fine. Adeola role (kemi) was good, i like her, just not her character too much!
- for the finale next week, im not getting my hopes up. also of course nikki gets freaking kidnapped! like of course! they really had to end it with someone, most notably the leader, getting kidnapped from the missing persons unit. i just want one episode to focus on keith and that whole situation. most procedurals have at least one episode that doesn’t have a case, ya it’s only a 10 episode season, but still! just put some time aside for the plot that people actually want to know about and maybe their ratings and viewers will go up!
anyways i’ve ranted long enough. i’ve probably forgot some stuff but let me know what u guys think! i luv hearing your thoughts and different opinions! i’m definitely gonna miss scott on my screen! see u next week for the two hour finale!
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mountswhore · 3 years ago
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𝐝𝐨𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 — jesse lingard
summary: jesse was afraid to lose you, but you have to reassure him that his money and fame mean nothing to you.
notes: requests are open, ask away!
for @bite-me-en-la-boca
Jesse was afraid to lose you, as simple as that. He wasn’t blind to the double takes people do when you walk past them, or the comments from men at the club when they pass. You were stunning — and Jesse knew that, along with everyone else.
Even his own friends would make little comments, obviously they knew they wouldn’t act on it, so did he, but his girlfriend was wanted by even his closest mates. It definitely made him hold onto you a little tighter. Whenever you’d visit him at training, or go to an event with him, he’d keep you close and constantly shower you in affection, so everybody knew you were his.
The Instagram comments were the worst, not only would his be littered with ‘she’s fit’ or ‘lucky man’, but yours were so vivid that you’d refuse to open them. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t scroll through them every once in a while to see what people were saying, only to return to you a while later with a heavy heart.
The whole of the UK male population were after you, which is why tonight was the worst for Jesse. You were celebrating Marcus’ birthday, and it was completely unlike him to want to go clubbing, but you both agreed anyway.
Jesse watched with a sick feeling in his stomach, almost feeling the need to grab his phone and text his best friend that he was too sick to go. And keep you at home. He knew what tonight would be like, he knew that someone would make a comment, or give you a suggestive glance, and it would ruin his night.
“How do I look?” You asked, smiling innocently up at your boyfriend. Even with heels on, he towered over you. Jesse pushed his negative thoughts to the side to compliment you.
“Wow. Where’s Y/N gone?” He asked, holding your hand and twirling you around slowly. You met his eyes once again with a pout, and Jesse kissed it away. There was never a day he didn’t compliment you on your beauty.
“Real funny. Are you ready?”
“Do I look ready?” Jesse countered, standing back from you and showing off his smart casual attire. You laughed and smoothed the fabric of his shirt down, smiling up at him. He looked back down at you with so much love in his eyes, you’d forget he was hiding his intrusive thoughts behind those eyes.
The pair of you left, getting an Uber to the club you were supposed to arrive at 20 minutes ago. Marcus was waiting inside, sitting in a booth with a few other United boys. The second Marcus spotted you, he moved out of the booth to greet you both.
“Jess,” Marcus spoke, pulling his best friend into a hug, “how’ve you been?”
Jesse just nodded, watching his attention divert from him to you. He squeezed you tightly and almost lifted you from your feet. He knew Marcus would never betray him like that, no matter how hot you were. He trusted Marcus entirely, but it was just adding fuel to the fire. Jesse felt tense from the moment he entered the club, the boys greeting you and having a laugh with you. It was off-putting, he just wanted to go home and watch your rubbish tv. He’d sit through hours of it if it meant you weren’t here getting preyed on.
Throughout the night, you’d had shot after shot, begging Jesse to dance with you an hour in. And he was keeping you close to him, eyes watching intently as you swayed your hips onto him. Your eyes were on him the entire time, not paying mind to the people around you. Jesse so badly wanted to enjoy this moment with you, but those eyes surrounding you were slowly pushing him over the edge.
“What the fuck are you staring at?” He snapped, causing a small space to form between the pair of you. You stepped back in shock, staring at your boyfriend who angrily stared at the people surrounding you.
His eyes had found yours again, but you were gone. You’d approached the booth Marcus was sitting at, wedging between him and Jadon, a frown on your face.
“What happened, Y/N?” Marcus questioned, an arm around your shoulder as you looked visibly upset. You saw Jesse sat at the bar now, head in his hands with a drink in front of him.
“He just shouted in front of everyone, it’s so embarrassing.” You stated, folding your arms and stealing a drink from the table. You didn’t know who the victim of the stolen drink was, quite frankly, you didn’t care. Jesse had bursted his anger in front of everyone, and even though it wasn’t directed at you, it still embarrassed you.
The next half hour was torture, you were slowly losing your buzz and the night was becoming boring. You were sandwiched between the two boys, and they refused to let you have any more drinks. Jesse was still sulking at the bar, but you didn’t care. You’d let him sulk there for the remainder of the evening, if need be.
“Guys, I think I might head home,” you mentioned, standing up and wiggling over the line of boys, “I’m super tired now.” You waved sweetly at Marcus, wishing him one more ‘happy birthday’ before you were leaning against the wall and waiting for your Uber.
Jesse looked back at the booth, wondering which boy had an arm around you this time, but you were gone. The space between Marcus and Jadon that you occupied had now disappeared. His eyes frantically searched the dance floor, but you were nowhere to be seen. It was only then that he started to regret shouting. He could lie and say he didn’t know what came over him, but he did know. He was jealous.
“She’s gone home.” Marcus spoke into his friend’s ear, patting him on the shoulder. It eased Jesse’s thoughts a little, but he still felt horrible. Jesse had gotten an Uber home not long after you, finding the house completely dark apart from your shared bedroom.
You were tucked into bed, Netflix in the background as you scrolled through your phone. You could see Jesse standing in the doorway, but didn’t acknowledge him as he walked in and sat on your side of the bed. His hand rested on the lump in the duvet that was your leg, waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t.
“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, his voice soft with guilt. You didn’t even react, you just kept scrolling. “Really, I am. I’m sorry for ruining your night.”
“It’s done now, you need to go to bed. You have Hope tomorrow.” You replied, a lack of emotion in your voice. He knew you loved when Hope was round, the pair of you got on immensely. But you seemed bored now. Bored of listening to him. You had gotten out of bed and left the room, wandering downstairs to distract yourself with something else.
“It’s not done, babe.” Jesse spoke, following your footsteps as you turned into the kitchen. You stood at the counter, grabbing a coffee pod from your cupboard and beginning to make yourself a coffee.
“What else do you want to say, Jesse?” You argued calmly, Jesse almost jumping at the mention of his name. It was always silly pet names, never his name. He could see by the look on your face that you were over this, you were tired, grumpy, getting slightly hungover.
“I know I should never have shouted like that, in front of everyone,” he spluttered, alcohol still in his system. His words were not stringing together very well, which presented a bad case on his behalf, “the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you because of my own insecurities.”
Jesse wasn’t the type to show his insecurities to anyone, not even you at times, but you knew they were there. He was stuck in the mindset of sweeping them away, out of sight and out of mind. You wanted to badly to help him work through them like he did with yours, but he’d never disclose what was bothering him. You turned to look at him, the argument long forgotten now as you wanted this to be the chance he finally opens up.
“What insecurities, Jess?” You wondered, slowly approaching him. Your small hands held his cheeks, you could’ve sworn you’d seen a glint in his eyes.
He shook his head, the window now closed. The opportunity for the pair of you to sit down and talk about what bothered him, it was gone. You were back to pretending not to see his tensed jaw and white knuckles from squeezing his fist together. You sat at the island in defeat, your headache prominent now.
Jesse’s hand fell upon your shoulder, your eyes meeting once again. Your face contorted as a tear fell from your eye, Jesse now going into full on panic mode. He sat beside you, pulling you into his chest and holding you close. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, you weren’t the only one who wished he could say how he felt.
“How are we ever going to move forward together if I don’t know how you’re feeling?” You asked honestly, holding his bare arm and pulling it close to you. There would always be this barricade stopping you from moving forward, his insecurities stopping you both from being able to talk to each other.
Jesse pulled away from you, his fingers fiddling with the expensive ring on your finger. He’d gifted it to you on your two-year anniversary, it was a beautiful night. “I just get jealous. I see your Instagram comments, and mine. I see the way random men look at you on the street, in the club, in the fucking supermarket. Even the boys are always complimenting you, being touchy with you. It might sound stupid and it might seem like it’s nothing, but it makes me fucking jealous.”
“You know I’d never do that to you,” you turned to Jesse, now clutching his hand tightly, “you’re the only one I want.”
“I know that, love. I have been fucked around before, girls always go after my money and my name. You don’t even shoo these boys away. It’s like you enjoy their attention.” Jesse accused, his tone still soft with you. He never raises his voice with you, and you never have with him.
This comment hurt you, your waterline burned with tears once again, hearing your boyfriend even fathom these ideas. “I don’t pay these boys any mind. You’re the only one I want attention from, I barely give the rest of them a second glance. And I’m sorry that your friends are touchy with me, I just give them lots of hugs and squeezes because they’re your friends, I want them to like me. I know how important they are to you. So they’re important to me.”
Even though Jesse thought you liked the attention, and wanted him for his name and wealth, even though it deeply pained you for him to think these things of you, you kept it cool. He was hurting, these were his insecurities. You looked up at him, giving him your infamous doe eyes, the ones he fell for in the first place.
“If I only wanted you for your wealth and name, I wouldn’t bother with Hope. I love that girl, she’s my best friend. I’d do anything for her,” Jesse smiled at your comment, his hand smoothing over your cheek, “I wouldn’t bother with your family, I wouldn’t call them up everyday asking how they are. I wouldn’t bother with your career, making sure your training kit is washed and you have appropriate lunch.” You emphasised the word appropriate, as Jesse would sometimes leave with just one of Hope’s lunchables, or just a yoghurt.
Jesse let out a laugh, both hands now holding your face close to his. “Thank you. I’m sorry for doubting you.”
“I won’t take your name when we get married, just to prove that I’m not in it for fame and wealth,” you admitted, a smile on your face, “I don’t know how you do it if I’m honest, you can’t even walk around the shop without someone approaching you. It’d get on my nerves.”
“Of course you’re gonna take my name,” Jesse cooed, kissing the bridge of your nose and looking down at you once more, “and you better get used to it, because I’m not giving you up.” He held you tight to him, the both of you still reeking of alcohol and the coffee long forgotten.
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annoyingstupidmiracle · 3 years ago
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L.A. Confidential Part 2-l.r.h
CONTAINS SMUT!
Word Count: 1734
I hope you guys enjoy Part 2!
You angled your camera in order to get a better shot of the boys as they absolutely killed their show for the night. They had a gig at some big theater in southern California, and it was sold out. Luke had begged you to come to the show, and you couldn’t ever say no to him. It had been nearly two weeks since the last late night rendezvous between you and Luke, and the tension was almost unbearable. 
Chloe had been up his ass lately, and you’re assuming it was because of the recent article posted about her and a up and coming rapper who was starting to make it big. His publicity was skyrocketing since he had his first number one hit, and hanging out with a new possible love interest was a new spike in attention. You were one of the first to know about it considering you worked in the media most of the time. You had first hand ties with publishers who would often use your pictures for their articles.
His girlfriend was backstage watching from their dressing room instead of out in the crowd as she should be. You cheered as they finished the song ‘Valentine,’ and Luke ended it with beautiful vocals. His sparkling blue eyes searched the front row and finally found you, relief filling his nerves. The lights went dim in the building, and you put it upon yourself to find your way to the backstage door. Once finding the door handle, you let yourself in and saw Chloe sitting on the couch texting on her phone. Probably talking to her new boyfriend. Instead of paying attention to her, you looked over at the guys and grinned. 
“You guys did awesome!”
“Did you get any good pictures of me? I need to set them up on my tinder.” Calum said while reaching out towards your camera. You tugged it away from him and giggled. 
“Fuck off, both you and your tinder.” That comment caused the other three to laugh before walking towards you. 
“You see the article?” Ashton mumbled in your ear before glancing at Luke. You nodded discreetly and narrowed your eyes towards the blonde still sitting on her phone. 
“Do you believe them?”
“Do you?” He questions back. Well that wasn’t very promising.
“So, how about that afterparty?” Calum buts in. Mikey shrugs his shoulder and looks to Luke.
“I’m down, are you down?” Luke shook his head yes, but not before he took his last glance at Chloe.
“Yeah, for sure.” 
At this, Chloe’s head perks up. “Who said anything about an afterparty? We had that party at my friend’s house tonight.”
You rolled your eyes, not able to bear the sound of her voice. “Chlo, this is my band. I’d pick the afterparty over hers any day.” Chloe sighed at his reply before getting up off the couch and stalked over to him. Her arms rested over his shoulders while staring into his eyes. 
“See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says while she leans forward, her lips puckered to kiss his lips. Instead, Luke turns his head to the side causing her lips to peck his cheek. “Alright, you guys ready?” He asked, looking to you.
You nodded. “Of course.”
*
Bodies touched everywhere you looked, it was hot and sweaty in the club. You couldn’t find anybody that you knew anywhere. Your breath caught in your throat as you frantically searched through groups of people in hopes that you’d find one of the boys. Panic sets in once you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Quickly turning around, you notice it’s a random guy. Backing away from him, your back hits a hard body. Their arms reach out to yours to turn you around, and relief automatically rushed through you. Luke stood there with a look that could kill, staring right at the man who touched you. The man raised his hands up in defense before walking away. Luke brought you under his arm and walked towards the exit.
“We’re leaving?” You asked. He stopped before he opened the door. “It’s only been forty-five minutes.”
Guiding you outside, there was a taxi that waited for you to crawl in. Bending down to your ear, he mumbled, “I need to get you alone.” And that was all it took to get you in the back of the taxi as it drove through the city towards his hotel on the outskirts of it all. His hand rested on your inner thigh, gently caressing his fingers along the available skin showing due to the short length of your dress. The city lights cascaded through the window, dimly lighting the features on his face. It almost looked like he wanted to cry, and Luke never cried. 
Naturally, your hand reached up to cup his cheek in your hand, turning his head to look at you. “What’s wrong?” He shook his head, waiting on the taxi to slow to a stop in front of his hotel. His hand reached out to grab yours and dragged you to the elevator inside the building. “Lu-”
“You knew about the articles? And the photos?” He asked as soon as you were alone in the elevator. You stared silently at the floor. “(Y/n).”
“Yes.” You said quietly. Without a warning, he paused the elevator from going any farther by pressing the red button. Leaning against the wall, he ran his hands through his hair and tugged at the ends. A bitter laugh falling from his lips. 
“I can’t fucking believe this,” he says, thoughts corralling his brain. “I can’t believe you.”
“Me?” You question with shock. “Why should I tell you anything if all you’re going to do is stay with her?!” Your voice became louder than it has before, surprising him. 
“(Y/n)-”
“No, don’t. I-I do everything for you! But management always comes first, you know, when are you gonna get rid of that piece of shit publicist you got yourself, huh? That’s who’s making your life a living-” Before you could finish, his hands grabbed the sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours. Your first reaction should’ve been to push him away, but you deepened the kiss anyways. He swiftly pushed you against the other side of the elevator, the cold wall sending shivers up your spine. 
“Luke..” You mumbled next to his cheek as his lips traveled down your neck, gently nipping at your skin. “W-We can’t-”
“I just need you right now.” He begged, his voice strangled from the emotions he was feeling earlier. Giving in, you reached down to undo his belt buckle and unbuttoned his suit pants. His hand went down and helped you by sliding his pants down just enough to reveal his boxers. Once he did that, your dress was then hiked up around your waist and panties were pushed to the side.
His hand reached behind your right thigh and tugged it up so that he could keep the crease of your knee in the crease of his arm. You stared between the two of you as he pulled his member out of his boxers and lined up with your entrance. After a few agonizing seconds, he finally entered you, pressing your body further against the wall. A whimper escaped your lips at the feel of him inside you, but a hand slapped over your mouth. 
“People can hear you outside the elevator, doll.” You nodded, attempting to stay quiet as he reached down to grab your other leg, hoisting you up against the wall. He slammed into you constantly, skin slapping against your own. It was hard to stay quiet when all you wanted to do was scream out with pleasure. “Trust me, once I get you in the hotel room, you can scream all you want.”
“Oh god, I-” You reached forward, pulling his face to yours in a heated kiss in order to muffle the sounds of pleasure emitting from you as you came around him. Luke chuckled against your lips, him coming shortly after. 
He gently placed your feet back on the ground, steadying your wobbly form. You yanked your dress back down your legs. Luke buckled his pants back up and smoothed out his shirt and looked at you. Noticing stray hairs sticking out, he placed them back behind your ears and admired how your lips slowly tilted up in a smile as he did so. Leaning over, he pressed the button again and waited for the door to open back up to go to the hotel room.
*
Your naked forms laid tangled in the sheets nearing three in the morning, both huffing from the acts of just moments ago. Not only did you do it in the elevator, but you went back to the room and did it not once, not twice, but three more times before calling it quits for the night. Your head rested on his bare chest as is heaved up and down, your finger tracing lines along his stomach. Your leg was draped over his as you laid there, attempting not to fall asleep.
A buzz from a phone laying on the bedside table broke you two from your haze. Luke reached over and grabbed the phone that was lit up, which happened to be his. A low groan escaped his lips and he scrolled through the few texts he received from no one other than Chloe herself. Apparently, he had sent her a message about the articles he saw earlier that night and she was trying to apologize for them. No excuses were made about why the media made these assumptions, but she was sorry for them. He held down the power button and completely shut down his device and tossed it back on the table. 
“I can’t keep doing this, Lu.” You whispered, almost inaudible. A frown was placed on your face as you said those words. Your feelings for the Aussie had grown dramatically, and the fact that you couldn’t do anything more about it was only hurting you.
He sighed, wrapping an arm around your figure and bringing you closer to his. “I know.”
“Doesn’t it hurt you? That she treats you like this?”
He nodded. “I’m waiting on my publicist to say something. His contract is over in a week, after that, I make my own decisions.”
You leaned up, matching the height of his face with yours. “Good.”
“Then I’ll be all yours.”
You smiled to yourself before kissing his lips gently. “All mine.”
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hangovercurse · 4 years ago
Text
The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About v
Pete and you make amends, but after a series of break ins you end up staying at his apartment when an unexpected visitor shows up.
Colson Baker x Reader
Warnings: Drug use, cursing, heated make-out session
Word Count: 3161
| i | ii | iii | iv |
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You spent the next week moping around your apartment, your phone turned off. All inspiration you’d had for writing seemed to have drained out of you, causing you to cancel writing sessions.
After not answering your phone for a few days, Pete came by your apartment, finding you deep in your depression. “I’m sorry for blowing up at you.” He said, taking a seat on the couch next to you. You shrugged, eyes not leaving the TV screen in front of you.
Your brother scoffed, grabbing the remote and turning it off, leaving you with no other option but to pay attention to him. “It’s fine Pete.” You muttered, reaching over to try and grab the plastic from him.
He frowned at you, “obviously it’s not. I shouldn’t have called you selfish and I shouldn’t have made it sound like I wanted you to get your heartbroken.” He explained calmly. He’d been through enough of these episodes himself, so he knew how to navigate the sadness that ran in your blood.
You sighed but didn’t say anything. You felt guilty that he was blaming himself for your mood. In reality, your fight with him was the last thing on your mind.
Pete continued explaining himself, “I’m just trying to protect you, you know?”
You nodded, trying to find the words to respond. “I know.” You whisper, “You’re right, though. Getting involved with your friends would be a bad idea.”
His eyebrows furrowed, “did something happen that I need to know about?”
You took a deep breath, preparing the lie in your head, “no, I just have been thinking about it. You’re right, it would just end up messy and someone would get hurt.”
You could tell he was trying to hide an “I-told-you-so” smirk. “So, there’s nothing going on between you and Colson?” he asked.
You tried to cover the fact that your breath caught in your throat. You guys were pretty obviously flirting the first night, but you didn’t expect Pete to jump to that assumption. “Colson?” You prayed your lie was convincing. “Why’d you assume I was thinking about going out with him?”
Pete raised an eyebrow at you and you let out a fake laugh, “bro, no. I was talking about Douglas.” You lied through your teeth. If music didn’t work out, maybe you could be an actress.
Your brother actually laughed at you for that, “wait, seriously? Doug?” His eyes closed and he leaned back into the couch.
“Yeah, I mean Colson’s hot and everything but that British accent really does things, you know?” You giggled, trying to ignore the sinking feeling from Colson’s name rolling off your tongue.
Pete rolled his eyes, “whatever, weirdo. Trust me, you dodged a bullet. I love Doug, but he could not handle you.” He got up from the couch. “I’m out, just wanted to come check on you. Maybe answer your phone some time?”
You smiled; happy you were on better terms with one of the men in your life. “I’ll try my best.” You called to him as he moved to the door. “Oh and, uh, Pete?”
He turned towards you, the sight reminding you all too much of Saturday night. “I’m sorry for being a bitch and calling you unstable and shit. I mean, you’re an asshole, but that was uncalled for.”
Pete shrugged, “I mean, I am unstable, but thanks.” He waved, leaving your house.
 A few weeks past and things were getting back to normal. You were back writing and editing tracks, Pete and you were talking again, and you felt like yourself. Part of you was glad that things ended earlier rather than later with Colson, so you hadn’t had time to get too attached. Still, the thought of what could have been made you upset from time to time.
You were on your way to the studio one morning when you got a text from your floor group chat.
Wanted to let you guys know, there’s been a series of break-ins in the area. Keep your doors locked. So far no one has been in the apartments, so if you can try to stay somewhere else until they catch him. Be careful floor 5 fam!
Your floor was almost exclusively younger millennials, so you all got along decently. Andy, the one who had sent the text, was actually a pretty good friend of yours, despite you rarely leaving your apartment.
You had an irrational fear of people breaking into your house. You couldn’t explain it, but the thought of being attacked in your own home was one of the worst things that could ever happen to you. Because of this, you decided to text Pete.
Hey, can I stay at your place for a little while. There have been break ins near my apt and I really don’t wanna be there if it happens to me.
You knew Pete was probably rolling his eyes, but you didn’t care. There was no way you were gonna stay in your apartment until you felt safe.
Sure
You have to buy groceries though
Deal
And thus began your week-long sleepover at Pete’s house.
 On day four, Pete walked into the guest room where you had set up camp, finding you scrolling through your phone on the bed. “Hey, Colson’s gonna come over tonight and we’re gonna get high on mushrooms and watch SpongeBob. Wanna join?”
The thought of seeing the blond again made your heart race, but you hid behind a fake smile, “no thanks, I’ll probably stay in here all night and get some work done. Have fun though, don’t bother me.”
“Yeah, you look like you got a lot of work to do.” He said sarcastically but left you to your own devices. “I’m ordering Pizza, I’ll get you one.”
You thanked him, trusting he knew your pizza order by heart by now. Once he left you let out a worried sigh, trying to figure out how you were going to hide the awkwardness between you and Colson from your brother. Hopefully, he would be too high to figure out anything was up.
You were also upset that you had to turn down a night of shrooms and SpongeBob, something you would’ve loved. But you figured you could skip out on one night of fun if it meant avoiding the guy that you probably could’ve fallen in love with if he hadn’t given up on your relationship before it even started.
Okay, so maybe you weren’t as over everything as you told yourself you were, but he had put you in a shitty situation. Of course, you weren’t going to be happy about it.
Three hours later you were sitting cross-legged on your bed, laptop in lap, and headphones in. You’d been listening to one of Lea’s tracks for the past hour, scribbling some general edit notes in your notebook and cleaning up some of the notes with your virtual tuner.
You vaguely heard a knock on the front door but ignored it, focused on adjusting her vocals for the bridge. Truthfully, it wasn’t the best song you’d written with her, but she liked it and she was your boss at the moment, so you did what she asked.
But when there was a knock at your door, you paused, removing one earbud, and calling, “yeah?”
You weren’t expecting to be met with those all-too-familiar blue eyes. “Hey.” Colson said, his confidence fading as you made eye contact.
“Hey.” You replied softly, feeling like his hand was wrapped around your heart and squeezing it.
He cleared his throat, stepping further into your room with a pizza box in hand. “Here’s your pizza.” He handed you the box awkwardly. You had expected him to leave the room after you thanked him, but he lingered for a moment. “You’re not skipping out on tonight because of me, right?”
You raised your eyebrow at him, confusion on your face. “No, I have a lot of work to do tonight so…” You trailed off, lowering your gaze down to the box in your hand.
He nodded, “okay, I just- you told me how much you liked doing shit like this with Pete and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t…” He paused, letting out a breath, “if you want to join, you should. Like I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have fun just because I’m here.”
You let out a dry chuckle, “don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not not hanging out with you guys tonight because of you. I’m just doing work.”
The man nodded again, scratching the back of his neck. “O-okay. I’ll just, uh.” He turned towards the door, moving to leave before turning back to you. “If you get done and feel like it, you should come watch SpongeBob with us.”
You nodded, sucking your lips into a straight line, feeling the awkward tension in the air that you desperately wanted to avoid. “I’ll think about it.” You said and with that, the blond left your room, pulling the door behind him.
You hated to admit it, but even when he was being nervous and awkward, he still managed to be fucking attractive as hell. You let out an annoyed huff, falling back against your pillows and covering your face with your hands.
You then spent the next 45 minutes trying to finish your edits, but your mind kept wandering to the boy with the sky in his eyes and an art museum on his body. Realizing you wouldn’t be getting any work done for the rest of the night, you thought about his offer.
Shrooms did sound good right now, and as much as you hated it, so did spending time with Colson, even if it was just friendly. And now that you had gotten Pete off your back about the events that had gone down weeks ago, he wouldn’t be suspecting anything anyways, especially not if he was tripping out.
Fuck it, you figured, climbing out of your bed and grabbing the box of pizza. You shuffled out of your room and into the living room where the bright colors of the TV lit up the dark house.
“Y/N! You decided to join us!” Pete cheered as you took a seat on the edge of the couch, curling your legs under you.
You giggled at your brothers very faded state. “I got bored of working so, shrooms.” You shrugged, reaching over and grabbing the bag off the coffee table. You could feel Colson’s eyes following you but you tried to play it off.
The mushroom was chewy in your mouth and tasted like dirt, so you ate it as fast as you could, focusing your attention on the tv. You leaned back into the arm of the couch, your legs falling to your side. From the corner of your eye, you could see Colson take a long swig of the bottle in his hands. It was too dark for you to read the label, but you could tell it was some form of alcohol.
Biting your lip, you considered the idea of toying with him, remembering how awkward he was earlier. Deciding he probably would be too high to care; you leaned over and grabbed the bottle from his hand. You brought the drink up to your lips, eyes locked on his and a smirk on your face. He watched as you swallowed the burning liquid, and it was then that you processed just how glazed his eyes were.
Handing him the bottle back, you giggled. Something about Colson being completely faded yet still watching your every move made you feel giddy inside. He smiled at your actions, accepting the bottle, and taking another sip of it. This time you watched him, his Adam’s apple moving with the liquid.
So, you were definitely not over him. Not even in the slightest.
You took in a breath, turning to the screen and waiting for the drugs to kick in. They were playing the episode where SpongeBob had to get a new spatula after his broke, a classic. Every so often you reached over and drank from the bottle of what you figured out was some form of whiskey, probably Jameson knowing your brother. Colson didn’t seem to mind, moving closer to you as subtly as possible so you didn’t have to reach as far. If Pete picked up on anything he didn’t say.
Around the 20-minute mark, the shrooms definitely hit. The lights from the TV got brighter, the pictures seeming to blend together in a different way. You loved this feeling, everything seemed so much funnier and every bone in your body felt 20 pounds lighter.
Your movements felt slower, your limbs turning to jelly. Colson happened to glance over to you, seeing the smile on your lips and knowing, even in his faded state, that you were high. The image reminded him of that first night, you on the same couch passing the blunt to him. Your eyes were glossy and your smile was beautiful then and now.
As the episode ended and rolled into the next, you shifted slightly, your legs starting to fall asleep. You moved to dangle them off the couch when you felt a soft hand on your ankle. You looked over to see Colson staring at the screen, but his fingers wrapped around your right foot, pulling it onto his lap. He then reached for the other one and pulled you so both of your feet were propped in his lap, your back against the arm of the couch.
You sent him a smirk, but if he saw it, he ignored it, continuing to watch the cartoon. His hand ran up and down your leg, sending shivers through your body. You tried to pay attention to what was going on on the screen, but you felt like your entire body was on fire.
You let out a little giggle at the sensations, causing him to glance at you, bringing a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion. You pouted jokingly towards him before turning back to the TV. He continued to look at you, the drugs making every feature of yours pop.
After another episode ended you heard quiet snores coming from the other side of Colson. You looked over to find Pete passed out, head hanging off the side of the couch. You laughed quietly, grabbing Colson’s attention. You motioned towards the sight, making Colson laugh silently as well. His whole face lit up as he took in his friend’s sleeping state.
You moved your feet off his lap, scooting closer to him. Your cross-faded state made you much more confident than you normally would be, and much more reckless. “Looks like it’s just you and me now.” You whispered, looking up at the man.
He smirked down at you, blinking slowly. His eyelashes were so long and pretty, you wanted to steal them. “I guess it is.” He said, voice matching yours.
God his voice was sexy.
In a moment of brilliance, or as anyone else would call it, stupidity, you climbed onto his lap, straddling his waist. He raised an eyebrow but made no effort to move you. Your hands rested on his shoulders, a drunken grin on your lips. “I was really sad when you left.” You murmured, searching his eyes.
He took his lower lip between his teeth, taking a deep breath. “I hated leaving.” He responded, leaning his head closer to you. “Took every ounce of strength I had not to go back.”
You frowned, leaning so that your noses were touching. “I wish you had.” You whispered before closing the gap between your mouths. His lips collided with yours so familiarly, so naturally. Your hands moved to the back of his neck, fingers toying with the hair there. His found your waist, pulling your body further into his.
Every inch of your body was tingling in the best way. You felt like you were flying, adrenaline coursing in your veins. When you pulled away for air you smiled up at him. “You’re really cute.” You giggled.
He grinned, “you’re cuter.” He pecked your lips as you shook your head in disagreement, “yup.”
You both knew better. You had ended things for a reason, a reason that was passed out next to you. But in his arms, you just didn’t care. You kissed him again, deeper this time. You felt like you needed to make up for the lost time.
And Colson kissed you back, missing your intoxicating lips. Your hips started moving against his, the friction in his pants making him moan quietly against your lips.
It felt good, but he knew something wasn’t right. So, he pulled away. “Y/N.” He mumbled, earning a small whine from you. “Shhh.” He shushed you, “we can’t do this, remember?”
You pouted, moving back from him. His thumb rubbed circles into your hip, a frown on his face. “We said we weren’t gonna do this because of Pete.” He whispered.
You sighed angrily, “why does Pete get to tell us what to do?” You asked.
Colson smiled softly, “he doesn’t. But we decided that it was best if we stopped seeing each other.”
“We did!” You whisper-shouted. “Obviously, that doesn’t work.” Colson chuckled at your small outburst, knowing you were right. “Doesn’t this feel right to you?” You asked, pressing your forehead to his.
He wanted to kiss you so bad, but instead he just said, “we can’t do this.”
You pushed yourself off of his lap, a frustrated expression covering your face as you stood up. “You’re both assholes.” You said, making Colson’s eyes go wide at your volume.
He stood up, hand going to cover your mouth so you wouldn’t wake up Pete. “Y/N please.” You glared at him but made no attempt to continue. “You’re right, even if we avoid each other it doesn’t work, so let’s scratch that idea.” He paused and you nodded, agreeing with him. You didn’t care what happened, you just wanted him back in your life. “Let’s be friends. Just friends. We can hang out together and have fun, but we don’t get involved with each other. That way, we won’t be tempted to do this every time we see each other.”
You hated the idea, but you knew it was better than the alternative. So, you let out a small “okay” against his palm. He smiled, removing his hand from your mouth. “I’m gonna go to bed, friend.” You said, backing away from him.
He nodded, a small smile on his face. “Wait.” He whispered, pulling you in for a short, sweet kiss. “Okay, now we’re just friends.”
You let out a small giggle and rolled your eyes, pushing him back onto the couch. “Goodnight.” You whispered, walking towards your room, and trying not to stumble. Your lips held a stupid smile that refused to go away.
191 notes · View notes
ellana-ravenwood · 4 years ago
Text
“You are not hard to love” - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Something very VERY quick, that I suddenly felt compelled to write, once again in the middle of the night. I didn’t plan on writing it, but here we are. This is for anyone who ever felt like they were “hard to love”. You’re not. You just haven’t found the right person...Anyway, here. For you : 
__________________________________________________
To be “hard to love” is a character flaw Bruce always felt he had. 
It was actually hard, to exist with this knowledge, no matter how little he tried to make himself feel. Or not feel, for that matter. 
As “Brucie Wayne”, a lot of people liked him, and the rest hated him for being so arrogant and smug. There were no inbetween. 
Many people judged him to be just another idiot with a lot of money. They hated his guts. Or they admired him for his self-confidence. Still thinking, though, that he was a bit of a dunce. 
It was fine. He wanted them to think that of him. To see him for someone he really wasn’t. So it’d blur the line, so they’d never guess who the Batman really was. 
As a result, it was difficult, to love, truly love, “Brucie Wayne”. Then again, he wouldn’t want anyone to love him for what he wasn’t. This public persona of him, would never know real love. It was fine. 
But his real self. His real self. 
Batman. 
Was probably the number one reason Bruce felt he was so hard to love... 
Who would want to put up with this shit ? Who, in their right mind, would want to love a man like him ? Bruce knew himself very well. Unfortunately. 
Sometimes, even him couldn’t stand himself. 
He knew he could be abrasive, arrogant, self-important, cold, too focus on a task at hand to care about anyone’s feelings etc etc...He knew that his real self, the one he showed more with his Batman side, wasn’t very likable. 
He found it hard, to connect to others. It was hard to stay connected anyway, when he was always stuck in his own head. 
He knew himself very well. He did. He knew how he was, and he couldn’t possibly see anyone putting up with it, and loving him. 
He didn't even like himself very much...
Every single time he fell in love, things didn’t end well. Because he’s too high maintenance. Because it’s hard to keep up with him and his moods...even for someone like Selina Kyle. 
Even she, whom he felt understood him more than anyone he met before, got tired of his games. Ah, but she was also too fiercely independent for what he wanted. Mmm...But who was he fooling ? He knew she’d never stay too long with him, not only because she was independent, but because he was too difficult to be with. 
And it hurt. It really did. 
Because deep down, what Bruce really wanted...It’s love. Real love. True love. Unconditional love. As stupid as it might sound, to anyone knowing him. Ah but, if you truly knew him, it all made sense. 
He would never admit it, not even to himself, but his fear of being completely abandoned ran deep. And his want of finding someone who would accept him for who he truly was was even deeper. 
But he was hard to love. 
Who could ever put themselves through the ringer like that, and love someone like Bruce Wayne ? Like...Like Batman ? 
And then...then you came in. 
************
He still thought he was hard to love. Difficult to be with. 
Your relationship, at that time, was somewhat new. It hadn’t been serious for long. But serious it was, in Bruce’s eyes, at least. 
Ah but he kept thinking he was too hard to love. That you would leave for sure, once you would realize it. His insecurities got the best of him often, even as he tried to ignore them and just enjoy what he had for the time being. 
Up until...
It happened shortly after his first real fight with you. He had one of his “dark day” (which he didn’t have much anymore), where he would be ultra-focus on his Batman work, and be a jerk to any outside distraction. 
Except you would have none of it, as you were trying to tell him something important. And thus, the fight began. 
And he shut down. Put up walls, once again, between him and you. Because that’s what he did. And it made everything worst, of course. 
He couldn’t stand the flood of feelings that came from being too emotional. Angry because of the fight, sad too, and absolutely terrified he might lose you if you guys fought enough for you to realize he’s just...Too hard to love. 
So he suppressed his emotions. As usual. It was much easier for him to give you the silent treatment than go through the pain of talking it out. It was too overwhelming for him, he wasn’t good at the whole “feeling things”. 
He was too afraid he’d say something he would dearly regret. He knew it was healthier, to talk it out. But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t deal with those emotions. And so he shut you out, you got frustrated, and then Dick tried to...
The sweet little boy tried to get you two to talk, to calm down, and Bruce snapped at him. He didn’t meant to. He instantly regretted it. But he did.
Which was the last straw that broke the camel back for you. You told him to “go to hell”, took Dick’s hand (who looked absolutely crestfallen, just remembering his facial expression made Bruce’s heart hurt), and left. 
Bruce felt like this was it. He just ruined the one good thing in his life. 
The one thing that, after years of being stuck in the dark, brought him light. 
You, and his newly adopted son. 
Lights of his life. 
He needed you two. But he understood if you decided to go...He was too hard to love. He would let you go, if it meant you’d be happier (what a fool). 
He was too much, too much. 
For hours, hours and hours, he beat himself down for it. Stuck in his own head once again. Hating himself. 
Sitting alone in front of the batcomputer, barely paying attention to what is scrolling on the screen...Bruce felt like shit. 
Why ? Why did he have to be like that ?
Why couldn’t he...be someone who was easy to love ? Who wasn’t a constant challenge to everyone around him ? 
Yes. That’s it. He was a challenge. A challenge who could’nt-
Footsteps. Taking him out of this darkness spiraling downward and downward. 
And it’s you. You’re right there. Looking at him critically, and he’s sure...
He’s sure you came to break up with him. That he shut you out one too many times. That him being a jerk to little Dickie was too much. That-
“There’s-”
He couldn’t. He couldn’t hear you say it. So he cuts you off, with words that made his heart bleed : 
“I know, we’re done.”
“Excuse me ?”
He can’t look at you. Can’t bear it. He turns around, and continues, trying to sound as neutral as possible, trying to not let his voice crack, going right to the point, as fast as possible, so he can keep it up : 
“I went too far. Too many times. You’ve...had enough of me. I understand.” 
“What ?” 
In your voice, he can hear surprise. Ah. You were too nice to realize that one day, it would come to this. That one day, you were doomed to leave him because he was too much. 
You were too...good for him, to him. Too good to realize he knew it all along. 
And so here you were, surprised he figured it out. Surprised he knew, before you told him, that you were leaving him. 
“I know I’m hard to love. I do. And you-”
“Wait wait wait, uh ? You think I’m gonna bail out because you were a jerk ? You think you’re too hard to love ? Oh Bruce...”
There’s a short pause, as if you’re searching for your words. 
He looks up at you, feeling a dash of hope invade his heart. He tries to fight it, but he can’t. Because...Because...Finally, you say : 
“Bruce. When we started this, when it became serious, when I decided to jump in your life and in Dick’s...I knew what I was getting myself into. I know you enough. I know the Batman side of you. I know you have moments you’re just...you’re just too stuck in your own head, and in your pain. I know.” 
You put a soft hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you by raising his head. 
“I know what you think of yourself. And I know what others think of you. You’re arrogant, cold, unforgiving blahblahblah insert many more words saying how difficult it is for you to show your true self and emotions. But...But I also know that’s not all there is to you. I know you, and others, are wrong about you. Too hard on you. I know you.” 
You take a step closer to him, and lay your forehead against his. 
“I know you’re funny, like, seriously hilarious. No one ever made me laugh like you. I know you care, sometimes too much, and it’s why things are so hard for you many times. I know you’re actually a great dad, no matter what you think. I know many admire you, you’re truly amazing. You’re smart, caring, loving...I know that it’s hard for you to open up, to love...but when you do, when you do...You love really hard, Bruce. Fully, intensely, passionately, with your entire being. I never felt so loved, than when you hold me. When you-”
There’s a short pause, and Bruce realizes it’s because you’re blushing and have to regain control of yourself again. It doesn’t surprise him. What you’re saying right now, makes his heart beat a hundred time faster, and he can feel his face burning. 
Only you, ever made him blush so...
You take a deep breath, and say : 
“All my life Bruce. All my life I felt I was hard to love.” 
At this, Bruce can’t help but scoff, and he’s about to say something but you cut him off sternly : 
“I’m not done, mister. As I was saying, my entire life, I too, felt like I was hard to love. But when I met you...When I met you, I realized I felt that way because the people around me always made me feel like that. Always made it sound like it was a chore, to put up with me. That they could love me without making any compromises, while I had to change completely for them. Because I was too “difficult” you know ? Because sometimes, I too would have mood swings, or a need to be alone, or...just things that are not considered normal. That are associated with being hard to love. And I was surrounded with people who made me feel bad about this. Who made me feel like I had to change to be normal, and to finally have love.” 
Your arms snake around his shoulders now, and you hold him tight against your chest, kissing the top of his head. 
“You made me realize, Bruce, my Bruce, that...That I’m not actually hard to love. That I was just surrounded with people who weren’t willing to make the effort for me. Which is fine. No-one has to put up with anything if they don’t want to. But...Nobody is hard to love. They just never found the right person. The one willing to fight for them. It’s what you made me realize.”
He holds you back now. With all his might. What is this stinging feeling in his eyes ? 
“I love you. Unconditionally. I know who you are. And I want to fight for you. I will always fight for you. I’m not promising that I’ll never grow frustrated, and yell at you back, to then storm off. I’m not saying we’ll never fight. I’m just saying...It doesn’t matter. Because I love you. And I’ll always find my way back to you.” 
In your eyes, he can see it, there’s a strong light shining. 
One that proves him you love him. Deeply, and unconditionally. 
One that led him out of a dark pass many times before. 
One that proved...That proved maybe, he wasn’t that hard to love. 
Not when he finally found the right one. 
He couldn’t believe you ever thought YOU were hard to love. Ah. Has anyone in the world ever been as perfect for each other as you two were ?
“I love you.” 
He says. His entire being, all his emotions, poured in those three little words. 
“I love you too Bruce. And believe me, saying those words to you ? It’s very easy.”
His arms around you tightens even more. And then you add : 
“Now that this is out of the way...We can talk more about this later, but for now, there’s more pressing matters at hands. I actually came down here to ask if...if you wanted some ice cream ? Dick and I went out for a little bit, and brought all our favorite. Yours, too. We thought we’d need a “pick-me-up”. All of us. As a family. We’re supposed to go through things together...And ice cream helps, yes ?”
He nods. His throat too tight to say anything. And for the moment, it’s fine. He’ll tell you later. He’ll tell you how much you mean later. If he can’t find the words, he’ll find other ways to show you. 
You know anyway. You know he loves you. Just as strong as you love him. 
He loves you just as you are. You love him just as he is. 
“I love you.”
He whispers, and you smile at him, of this life-changing smile that showed him the light... You peck him on the lips, before taking his hand and walking out of the batcave, to the Manor. 
Where ice cream, and a very sweet little boy eager to raise his dad’s spirit, were waiting. 
Unconditional love. 
Bruce Wayne, wasn’t hard to love. And now, he was surrounded with the right people to make him understand this.
__________________________________________________
I just have a lot of feelings about Bruce Wayne haha. I just wanted to write a little something. It also stems from my own feelings. I’m sure we all felt at some point, that we were/are impossible to love. That no one will ever put up with our shit...yet there are people unwilling to give up on you, people who make you “better” etc etc. So. Yeah. I wrote this very quickly. Once again, watch me feel too much in the middle of the night haha. Sorry if this isn’t very good, it’s one of those “bonus” story I suddenly think about and write quickly in one sitting. I enjoyed writing it, but I admit it took less effort than most stories. So. Yes. 
If you liked it, don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback and reblog if ya want :). 
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restlessfandoming · 4 years ago
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“ice fishing” (pt. 1) (chilumi fic)
[SPOILERS FOR 1.1 AND CHILDE’S CHARACTER STORIES]
“Childe invites Lumine to the annual Snezhnayan holiday dedicated to the Tsaritsa. There, she meets his entire family, and all the conflict that comes with them.”
this one is longer than my other fics so i’m splitting it up again (sorry! i know it’s annoying to scroll through a suuuuuper long post)
as always, thanks for reading and supporting, it means the world <3
[Fic Masterlist]
“ice fishing” (pt. 1)
“Come with me to Snezhnaya,” Childe said as Lumine started eating the assortment of food he had cooked them for breakfast. 
Lumine raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was a holiday for family?”
“Lyublyu is just a holiday where Snezhnayans gather together to celebrate the Tsaritsa,” he explained. “You have more of a chance of meeting her during this time than any other time of the year.” 
Lumine chewed her food methodically. He isn’t wrong...I am on a quest to meet all the gods… “How long will we be there?” 
“The celebration lasts a week,” he responded. “Or longer, if you keep stirring up trouble wherever you go.” 
She glared at him. “Me? I fix all the trouble you stir up.”
“Right, right, sorry.” He stood up and walked over to her. “I just can’t help myself; you know I love to see you in action.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, and Lumine’s face flushed. 
It had been a few months since the two had confessed their feelings for each other—after a particularly heated sparring match, if Lumine remembered correctly. She still wasn’t 100% used to his romantic gestures, her face still heating up no matter what—which Childe found amusing. 
“So? Will you?” he asked, his voice resonating in her ear. 
She shoved a piece of bread into his mouth. “Yes, I’ll go.” 
“Great!” he said, voice muffled. He took the bread out. “We’ll be staying at my family’s home while we’re there; the little ones have been pestering me about when you’ll visit them.”
Lumine smiled fondly, thinking of the last time she saw Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon. Teucer had come back to Liyue with Tonia and Anthon (not as a stowaway this time), and the children had taken a great liking to Lumine, much to her surprise. 
“I look forward to seeing them again,” she told him. “Who else will be there? Your parents?”
His eyes softened, almost sad. “Yes, they will be there.” 
A sore subject. “Okay, well, when do we leave?” 
“As soon as you’re packed.”
Ah, so quick. But that was Childe, always on the move. 
Soon, Lumine packed quickly, as she never carried much with her anyways, and the pair was on their way to the cold country of Snezhnaya. 
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
Walking up the pathway to Childe’s home, Lumine thought they were going the wrong way: the estate that stood on the end of the stone path was not a house. In fact, it looked closer to a castle than a home, and even had a large fountain situated in the front, along with an elaborately decorated courtyard. Beyond the home, she could see a large lake in the back. 
As they entered the home, Childe called out, “Teucer? Tonia? Anthon? I’m home!” 
Within seconds, there was a loud clattering of footsteps, and the three children appeared at the top of the grand staircase, and quickly scrambled down. They ambushed both Lumine and their brother in hugs and cheers. 
“Lumine! I missed you so much!” Teucer yelled. 
“I never thought you’d come!” Tonia cried. 
“It’s not like she died,” Anthon told them. 
“Lumine, can you tell us more stories about your adventures?” Teucer asked excitedly. Tonia and Anthon nodded as well.
“Of course,” she said, smiling as the three celebrated loudly. 
“Causing quite the ruckus as always, isn’t that right, Ajax?” a voice called from above. They all looked towards the top of the staircase. 
Standing there was another man who looked like Childe, with shorter hair, styled neater, and narrower eyes—like a fox—scheming, plotting. His lips were twisted in a sardonic grin. Next to him, a woman stood—also similar in appearance to the siblings—her lighter brown hair tightly pulled back in a bun; out of all the siblings, her eyes seemed the lightest, the iciest. Her expression was fixed in disapproval.
Lumine looked at Childe. His eyes had narrowed, mouth pulled in a taut line. 
“Lumine, this is Alexei, my elder brother,” he nearly growled. “And Misha, my elder sister.”
Childe had even more siblings all this time? Though, these two didn’t seem nearly as...loving. She glanced nervously around the room; the tension was almost electric. Even the children seemed on edge. Not the best relationship with those two…
“Lumine? What a beautiful name,” Alexei said. His voice was silky—too smooth for comfort. His eyes harbored a deep, unsettling feeling behind them. 
He sauntered down the steps, movements calculated, and Misha followed. The older sister’s hand never left the hilt of her blade that hung on her hip. 
Upon reaching Lumine, Alexei held his hand out. Lumine hesitantly placed her hand into his. 
He pulled her hand to his lips, gently kissing her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.” His eyes were on hers, unblinking. Out of the corner of her eye, Lumine saw Childe tense. 
“Dear sister, acquaint yourself with this companion of Ajax’s,” Alexei said, turning to Misha. 
Misha’s icy eyes flickered to Lumine. “Welcome to our home,” she said, almost forcibly. Her voice was deeper than Lumine expected, but was exceptionally refined and crystal clear—like royalty. The sister bowed. Lumine awkwardly bowed back. 
Misha turned on her heel. “Come, Tonia. We must resume our reading lesson for today.” 
Tonia frowned. “Can’t I stay with big brother and Lumine a little bit more?” 
Alexei’s eye twitched at “big brother.” Upset it’s not him? Lumine wondered. 
Misha held out her hand. “They’ve distracted us long enough. You will see them at dinner.” 
Tonia solemnly waved goodbye, before taking her sister’s hand, and being led back upstairs. Teucer grabbed a hold of Childe’s pants, and Anthon scooted closer to Lumine, as if they were both in search of protection. 
Alexei took note, forcing another unsettling smile. “Well, I shall leave you two to unpack. I hope to learn more about you later, Lumine.” He marched back up the stairs, and disappeared. 
Teucer hugged Childe’s leg tightly. “Can we go outside and play?” 
Anthon eyed the stairs. “Why does big sister always take Tonia away?” 
“She’s just very protective of Tonia,” Childe said, voice lined with pity. “And Teucer, we’ll play later, okay? Lumine and I are very tired from travelling.”
Anthon started heading up the stairs. “C’mon, Teucer. Let’s join Tonia.” 
“But I don’t want to learn!” 
“Tonia’s probably really sad, all alone.” 
Teucer frowned, and nodded, then joined Anthon. The two disappeared upstairs as well. 
Childe let out a heavy sigh next to Lumine. 
“So, Alexei and Misha…,” she began. 
“Aren’t the greatest siblings in the world, if you couldn’t tell,” he said, full of resentment. 
“And Ajax?”
He bit the side of his cheek. “My birth name. Only my family calls me that.” 
Lumine noted how tense Childe’s body was: fists clenched, ready to grip a weapon, any weapon. 
“Let’s duel,” she said. 
“You’re not tired?”
“Are you? I thought you were always ready for a duel?”
He scoffed playfully. “I am.”
Lumine was relieved to see him lighten up. What a stressful family.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
After an hour long match, Lumine and Childe were both sitting on the snow covered ground, panting, muscles aching. The house loomed behind them.
“You really weren’t holding back,” Childe said between breaths. “Very close to using my Foul Legacy.” 
“Hah.” Lumine let out a long breath. “Even if you did, I still would have beaten you, easy.” 
“You know, the more matches we do, the closer I am to defeating you,” he teased. 
“Yeah, right. Bring it on, pretty boy.”
“Hm? So you think I’m pretty?” 
She started charging up a Palm Vortex. “Hm? What was that?”
Water formed into daggers in Childe’s hands. “Is this Round Two?”
Lumine stood, her sword materializing in her hands. Before she could speak, there was laughter from above. She looked up. 
Alexei was watching them from the balcony, a curious glint in his eyes. “Fighting already? That relationship really didn’t last long.” 
The water dissipated from Childe’s hands as he glared at his brother. 
Lumine’s sword disappeared as well. “It was just a practice match, Alexei.” She said his name with more venom than anticipated. She couldn’t help it. The man was unsettling, and he upset not only Childe, but Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon as well. 
He raised a brow at his name. “Interesting.” He shook it off with another laugh. “Well, brother, you’d better come inside and start cooking if we’re to eat by dinnertime. The children all requested your food for tonight.” 
Childe nodded curtly at Alexei, then turned to Lumine. “I’ll be back soon.” He went to her, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek. “Don’t go anywhere with Alexei,” he whispered. Then, he went back to the house. 
Lumine looked up at the oldest brother, who was looking down at her with amusement. 
“Oh, Lumine,” he said. “Would you be a dear and grab our father down at the lake? He likes to spend his time out there.”
As long as it isn’t with you, she thought. “On it,” she told him. As she walked towards the lake, she felt Alexei’s eyes on her the entire time. Creep.
Approaching the lake, she spotted a figure sitting in the middle of the frozen lake. Is that Childe’s father? 
He looked around 50, wrinkles lining his eyes like he had spent most of his life smiling. However, there were now dark bags under his eyes; he hadn’t slept well for a while. His blue eyes seemed dull, and his ginger-brown hair—gray strands scattered about—was slicked out of his face. Kind. But tired.
When she reached him, he didn’t pay attention to her. He kept his eyes on his fishing rod that descended into a hole in the ice in front of him. They stood in silence for a minute, Lumine not even certain that he knew she existed. 
“Hello,” she said quietly, hoping not to scare him. 
He finally turned to her, and gave her a smile in greeting. “Hello there.” 
“I was told to come get you for dinner, sir.” 
He hummed cheerfully. “Are you a new housekeeper?” He turned back to the fishing rod. “I keep telling Alexei and Misha we don’t need any servants…,” he murmured. 
“Ah, I’m not a housekeeper. I know your son, Childe—Ajax, I mean.”
His eyes widened and he turned back to her excitedly. “Ajax is back?” 
She nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. 
His eyes seemed to see her, really see her for the first time. “Ajax brought you here?”
“Yes, for Lyublyu.” 
He laughed heartily. “Well, look at you! You must be...Lumine,” he said knowingly. “Many of my children have spoken very highly of you.”
“I’m flattered.” She held out her hand. 
He shook it gratefully. “I am Feliks. You can call me whatever you’d like however.” He pointed to the fishing rod. “Would you like to ice fish with me?” 
Lumine recalled Childe briefly mentioning how he had learned to ice fish when he was younger. So his father taught him… “Yes, I’d love to.” She took a seat next to him. 
Feliks told her all about ice fishing: the intricacies, the lessons, the patience. She listened attentively, warmed by his voice, and excited by the happy twinkle in his eyes. 
She and Aether never had parents. Since their birth into the world, it had just been the two of them. 
But something about Feliks definitely feels like...a father.
The two then sat in silence, waiting patiently for the fish to bite. Soon, they heard the clicking of heels on the ice. 
“Father. Lumine,” Misha’s voice rang out. “Dinner is ready.” Then just as quickly as she appeared, she disappeared back to the house. 
Feliks let out a quiet sigh, pulling the fishing rod from the ice, and began walking away. 
Lumine caught up to him. “Having so many children must be difficult.” 
“Ah, yes why so many children?” He smiled softly. “My wife and I lived very lonely childhoods. I think we both wanted a large family. Though, with so many children, a few are bound to be at odds.” He looked longingly at the house, at the large, lonely windows casting amber lights into the dusk. “I think we knew that. But when you love someone so much, having another existence to love like them—that’s just as precious as them? It absolutely fills your heart.” 
And six kids later… Her heart felt warmed, just listening to him talking about children, not that she had ever thought of having any. But she could tell, he did love them—and his wife—deeply. 
“Your wife, I’ve yet to meet her,” Lumine said. 
His smile turned sad. “You will. Galina is very kind.” 
As they drew nearer, they could hear the excited chatter of the children. “And you?” Feliks asked. “Do you plan on having any children?” 
“I don’t know.” I’ve been a bit preoccupied. The future isn’t really something to think of. 
“Hmmm. Well, I wouldn’t mind not having grandchildren. Tonia, Teucer, and Anthon are already a handful.” He chuckled. “Perhaps in the future though.” 
Lumine’s face flushed. He can’t seriously think….Childe and I?!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
[part 2]
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redgillan · 5 years ago
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Under Pastel Skies - 3
Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.
Word Count: 2,587
Warnings: none
A/N: I wanted to give Reader a family and this is the easiest way to do it. Btw Peggy’s husband isn’t Steve, I have other plans for him ;) Enjoy!
Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.
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The rest of the week went by, and you kept hoping Bucky would come back. You hadn’t seen him since he’d left 300 dollars under his napkin after visiting you at work. You had tucked the bills into your bra, knowing they would be safe there, and walked home at the end of your shift.
Now it was Thursday afternoon and you were craving a day off.
Natasha’s apartment was spacious and the oversized glass window bathed the living room in natural sunlight. The apartment was a gift from Sam. Obviously.
You dropped your purse on the sofa –your bed- and laid out the bills on the coffee table. It was made of marble and brass, another gift from Sam.
You didn’t know what to do with the money, so you took it wherever you went, to keep it safe. You wanted to return it to Bucky. It was too much and you weren’t used to random acts of kindness.
You sunk into the cushion and blew out a sigh as you stared at the money. The persistent vibration of your phone against your thigh pulled you out of your thoughts. Half expecting it to be Natasha, you answered without looking at the caller ID.
The operator told you that Scott Lang was calling from Saint Quentin State Prison, and asked if you would accept the charges. You agreed. You always agreed.
“Splotchy, I need your help.”
Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back against the cushion. “I told you to stop calling me that, Scott.”
It was a silly nickname.
As a child, your mother dubbed you splotchy because of the colourful doodles you painted on the living room walls, and your siblings, who were roughly a few years older than you, had loved using that nickname. Especially since they knew you disliked it.
Their support and endless enthusiasm played a big part in your artistic journey, nurturing that spark into a flame. What started out as a childlike fascination with colours and shapes became your whole life. No one was surprised when you decided to pursue a degree in fine arts.
After the death of her husband, Peggy Carter adopted five children; a little boy from San Francisco, a little girl from Wakanda, twins from Sokovia and a little girl whose birth parents were still in high school. You were the last one, the only one she adopted as a baby.
“Is it offensive to call an artist splotchy?”
“It’s irrelevant. I haven’t painted in months,” you replied. “And we’re not kids anymore, you can use my name.”
“I’ve been calling you Splotchy for so long, I forgot your actual name.”
“You’re so funny,” you deadpanned. “What do you need, Scott?”
Scott’s tone changed suddenly, his voice grew agitated. “I need you to call Maggie. She isn’t picking up when I call her.”
“Scott,” you sighed.
“I haven’t talked to Cassie since her birthday,” he cut you off, pleading. “Please, I just want to talk to my little girl.”
Maggie was Scott’s ex-wife. Six months after his incarceration, she had filed for divorce. Natasha thought it was a real dick move but you didn’t blame Maggie. She was alone, her husband was in jail –for basically being a dumbass although the official charge was embezzlement and destruction of property- and she had a kid to raise.
Maggie wasn’t a saint but she was a good mother, and Cassie was a smart and healthy kid. Now you knew what to do with Bucky’s money.
“I’ll call her,” you said. “Listen, I’m going to put 50 bucks on your book. Buy yourself a bar of soap, I can smell you from here.” Scott interrupted you with a monotone ‘har har’. You chuckled. “I’ll buy Cassie a Christmas gift on your behalf, all right? I think she wanted a bike.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted over the phone, his voice muffled as if he was holding the receiver too close to his mouth. “Are you sure you can afford it? I know it isn’t easy for you. Between living in New York and paying for mom’s nursing home, you don’t have to-”
“It’s fine,” you said, cutting off the conversation. “I’m not alone, Okoye helps.”
“And Wanda?”
“She sends postcards from time to time.”
The line went quiet for a moment. “I want to get out of here so bad,” Scott groaned. “Everything’s gone to shit since I went to jail.”
“Everything’s gone to shit since Pietro died, Scott.” You both remained silent, remembering your late brother. Just thinking about him made your eyes start to prickle with tears, so you cleared your throat and ended the call. “I’ll talk to Maggie. You’ll be out soon, just... stay out of trouble. Love you.”
You left your phone on the table and kicked off your shoes before you lay down on the sofa for a well-deserved nap. In your dreams your brothers weren’t either dead or in prison, your mother hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer, and you weren’t a burden to your friend.
If you were lucky enough, you wouldn’t even dream at all.
The next day, Bucky arrived at the hotel at six thirty and you playfully glared at him from across the lounge. He wasn’t stupid, he knew why you were glaring at him. At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.
“Just so you know, you bought yourself about 30 breakfasts,” you told him, referring to the far-too-generous tip he had left the other day.
“A man’s gotta eat,” he replied with a boyish cockiness that made him look stupidly attractive. You were too flustered to find a good comeback.
You brought him his cup of coffee and let him enjoy his breakfast while you attended to your other clients. It was an unusually busy day, the room was packed with families who were getting ready to explore Manhattan. You didn’t have time to chat with Bucky and he didn’t stay long. You saw him flinch a couple of times; the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes darting left and right.
He left another ridiculously generous tip, along with a handwritten note. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day x.
Bucky came back the following week, and even though it was a quiet morning, you made sure to find him a table in a secluded spot. He didn’t notice when you slipped the 300 dollars into the pocket of his coat. You could be pretty sneaky, too.
“Mmmh,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I looked at your Instagram.”
“Oh,” you glanced at your shoes, embarrassed. “Wait, you’re on Instagram? I have a hard time imagining you scrolling through your feed.”
He laughed a little. “I’ll admit I’m not as tech savvy as you youngsters, but I’m not a fossil. I use it to look at the pictures my sister post of my niblings.”
“Cute,” you grinned.
“Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I love your work. It’s very unique; a cross between Impressionism and Post-impressionism. It’s realistic, and yet there’s something different...” his face scrunched up as he tried to look for the right word. “There’s something in your paintings, something that isn’t here in real life but perhaps should be. It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling, a color, a pattern; it’s indiscernible but it’s there.” He looked up at you, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”
You blinked, suddenly stunned that someone had such strong opinions about your work. There was nothing but sincerity in his ocean-blue eyes, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.
“I, um-” you cleared your throat, “Thank you, I didn’t know that. I look up to Monet, obviously. His work is phenomenal, and I also have a soft spot for Van Gogh.” You ran a hand across your face. “Sorry, I’m a little emotional. The people who compliment my art are usually my siblings, and Nat.”
“And now me,” he said with a warm smile. “And soon a lot more people.”
Flustered, you bit your bottom lip. “That would be nice.”
Bucky nodded. He gathered his silverware and set them on his plate, trying to buy time. You watched him hesitate before he turned to you. “I noticed that your last post was from almost a year ago.”
“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug. “I don’t really paint anymore. I’m too tired when I get home and supplies are expensive.”
“Of course,” he pursed his lips in thought. “Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”
You tried not to show your surprise but his words made the sleeping butterflies in your stomach crack an eye open, their interest piqued.
Was he asking you out? He’d come to your workplace every week since your brief ‘date’. He always gave you more-than-generous tips, and he listened to you with a combination of close attention and warmth that made you weak at the knees.
He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for anyone but maybe he had changed his mind. Agh, down girl! He just wanted a friend.
You looked into his beautiful eyes, seeing a myriad of expressions cross his face before he smiled at you.
“I ain’t gonna hurt you, angel.”
It was an honest lie, just hearing him call you angel felt like a punch to the stomach. The butterflies were dancing around, reborn, and chanting the word ‘date’.
“If you don’t like coffee, we can have tea, or ice cream,” he said, “anything as long as you can sit down with me.”
You snorted. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “This is my number. Pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”
After breakfast, you closed the restaurant and started cleaning the Lounge. You brought everything back to the kitchen, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Then you put away the unopened miniature jams, butter and whatnot, and gathered the remaining patisseries and fresh fruits in a basket that you would later bring to the reception.
You worked mechanically. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting job you’d ever had.
You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. It was easy to let your mind wander into the cosy and dangerous territory of this being a real date.
You decided to go to the Australian coffee shop near Natasha’s apartment. It was popular but not as crowded as Starbucks, which suited you fine.
After your shift, you removed your uniform and changed into the spare set of clothes you kept in your locker for emergencies. Emergencies being an impromptu date or a night out with Nat. You dug around in your purse for your lipstick; the nice one, the Carter Red as your mother called it.
You dabbed the lipstick on your lips, staining them. You only wore it on special occasions, and you weren’t sure Bucky deserved your full red pout.
You walked to the café with a little pep in your step and a confident smile on your face. The freezing temperature didn’t matter, you were too giddy to care. It was a date, it had to be, why else would he ask you to meet for coffee?  
You smiled when you saw him through the coffee shop window. He was chatting with the waiter as the latter set two mugs on the table.
“Hi again!” You shrugged out of your jacket and took a seat.
“I hope you like hot chocolate. Carl, here, says it’s their best seller,” Bucky said, smiling kindly at the waiter.
“Enjoy, and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call me.”
You carefully wrapped your cold hands around your mug while you watched Carl walk away. A moment of silence rose between you. Bucky watched you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget in your seat.
“I’m glad you came,” he finally said.
“Me too. I’m a little surprised you asked.”
He looked down at his mug and smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have something to ask you.” He paused. “The night we met, you said you agreed to see me because being in a... financial relationship felt like the only solution to your problems.”
 Your smile faltered but he didn’t seem to notice. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fell so suddenly that it felt like carrying a ball of lead. They went back into hibernation.  
“If I had been a decent person and, I don’t know, bought you a drink, talked to you,” he paused, meeting your eyes. “Would you have been interested in this type of relationship? With me, I mean.”
You swallowed hard. “You want to be my sugar daddy.”
It wasn’t a question but a statement. You were slowly realizing that you had been wrong about his intentions. This wasn’t a date, it was a business afternoon tea.
He winced. “Do we really have to call it that? I was thinking mentorship. I can provide financial help, and in exchange you could be my friend.”
“I can be your friend for free,” you said, your throat tightening.
He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “This way we’ll both get something out of it.”
You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the mug, and pursed your lips in thought. You felt a sharp tingling sensation in your nose, a sign that you were about to cry. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, fighting against the flood that was coming.
You pushed all the emotion down and forced a smile to your face. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? I just took the subway, I’d like to wash my hands.”
Bucky watched you, momentarily stunned by your request. “Of course, take your time,” he quickly recovered.
“Thanks,” you croaked, pushing your chair back.
You picked up your bag and walked to the restroom, your legs feeling like cotton wool. You didn’t need to use the restroom, you had walked to the café, but you needed a moment alone to collect yourself.
A woman came out of the restroom, holding the door open for you. You picked up the pace and thanked her before closing the door behind you. You looked pretty sickly under the artificial light of the restroom. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your red lips were taunting you.
“Got your hopes up, uh?” You watched your lips move. A little humourless chuckle escaped you and you shook your head at your own idiocy.
You aggressively wiped the lipstick off your mouth with the back of your hand and sighed deeply as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Now you felt like an idiot.
It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He had been nothing but nice and kind, and perhaps you had mistaken his kindness for flirting. A naïve mistake. You had always been a little clueless when it came to men.
You ran your index fingers under your eyes to get rid of the makeup that had gathered there. It wasn’t the end of the world, you barely knew him anyway. It didn’t hurt any less, though.
Maybe it was time for you to do something out of character, to experience life no matter how crazy it seemed. You were dreading this conversation with Bucky, but you couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. With another sigh, you pushed yourself away from the sink and walked out of the restroom.
Part 4
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dreamescapeswriting · 5 years ago
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BTS Reaction || Top Five Sexiest Women [Request]
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Seokjin:
As soon as Jin found out that you were going to be in the top 5 for sexiest women he was over the moon, telling everyone who would listen to him about it even those who didn't want to listen they didn't have a choice. He was sitting in a chair getting his hair done for a shoot and telling the stylist who looked like she wasn't paying much attention to him anyway but he continued to rant on about how you were the perfect couple now,
"Worldwide handsome and sexiest woman? The perfect package." Looking over at Jungkook who was staring at him while he spoke, he'd heard the same thing for the last two weeks since he found out and it was getting tiring but they knew how much Jin loved you and how proud he was that you were achieving something like this but even you weren't this excited about it. You told Jin and moved on from the subject deciding it wasn't something to get hung up on but that wasn't the way that Jin saw it. You were a famous model so it was a big deal on the internet as well, everywhere you went it was there in your face telling people to go and vote for you or the other models that were in line for the role.
"Jin are you ready?" You asked poking your head into the room but he was running late so he wasn't,
"There she is! Top sexiest woman!" Jungkook teased pulling you into a hug and making you cringe,
"Has he been going on about it again? Jin!!!" You whined looking at him as he smirked over at you, he couldn't help it he was so proud of you and happy that you were perceived as sexy to everyone including him.
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Yoongi:
Yoongi was proud of you more proud than he could express because he wasn't allowed to blast it around twitter or anything like everyone else was but he was proud, but there was one thing that was getting to him with it. You were getting a lot more attention than you normally would and it was starting to get to him, you were sitting in a bar having a drink together to celebrate your place in the top five when a man walked over to you both,
"Hi! Can I get a picture?" You looked at Yoongi expecting it to be for him but the man insisted it was with you, Yoongi took the photo and felt his anger bubbling as the man put his hand around your waist for the photo and then kissed your cheek as he was leaving.
"Fucking idiot." You stared at him with a small smirk on your lips and he dragged you over to him,
"Mine." He mumbled kissing you roughly making sure the man was watching over at you both, one hand resting on your waist and the other in your hair as he held you close to him. Pulling away and smirking over at the man who had watched the full interaction with wide eyes.
"You're jealous?" You giggled sitting on the barstool again but he dragged it closer to him, wrapping his arm around the back of it and making it known that you were taken by him. He was usually reserved in public but wanted everyone to know you were his and he was yours, he didn't want anyone else thinking they could come up and touch you like the man before had.
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Hoseok:
Once Hoseok found out that you were up in the running for top sexiest women he was doing nothing but voting for you, getting all the guys to vote for you and some Army were encouraging Army to vote as well, they were treating it as if it was an award for the boys and it was insane to see. You didn't think it was that much of a big deal since a lot of models were in the running for it but Army and your fans were going crazy, joining forces to spread the word about it and getting as many people as they could find to vote for you.
"Hobi, why aren't you asleep yet?" You questioned rolling over in the bed to find Hoseok on his phone scrolling through twitter and tweeting from a fake fan account, you took the phone from his hand and stared at him.
"Hobi. This is getting out of control." You sighed putting the phone on the bedside table and trying to ignore the fact that you were secretly flattered,
"You did this for me when we were up for awards." You stared at him,
"Yeah when it was important, Hobi this is just some dumb award that labels me sexy, I don't need a magazine to tell me that when you remind me all the time." You giggled turning over and laying your head on his chest, he wrapped his arms around you closing his eyes and smiling softly as he heard you snoring softly.
"Goodnight Jagi." He whispered kissing you on the head and then closing his eyes deciding he would just vote tomorrow when you couldn't stop him from doing it.
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Namjoon:
He had your calendar up in his home studio, his studio at the dorms and the studio that was at BigHit he wanted everyone to see how beautiful you were and once he found out you were in the top place for Top 5 sexiest women he was never going to shut up about it telling anyone that would listen that you were his girlfriend and you were one of the sexiest models, though you were always sexy to him it was just known to everyone now. You were walking into the BigHit studio when you heard him and Jimin talking about the shoot for your calendar, it was a tasteless nude one which meant everything was covered but it was still sexy for everyone else,
"You had to admit she is sexy." You tried to hold back the laughter as you heard Namjoon say that to Jimin who hummed in agreement,
"Hyung she's your girlfriend, I'm not going-" Namjoon must have given him a funny look because he stopped midsentence,
"She's very sexy." You pushed the door open and walked inside,
"Morning boys." You giggled putting down coffee on the desk for Namjoon and kissing him on the cheek,
"I have a shoot, I wanted to come by and tell you I'll be late for lunch." You looked at Jimin who was now blushing and staring at the floor awkwardly,
"Thank you Jimin." You whispered giving him a playful kiss on the cheek and looking at the calendar they had both been staring at when you had walked in and smirked.
"I have photos of Namjoon doing some of the poses." Namjoon glared at you as you walked out of the room promising to show Jimin next time you had time off while Namjoon screamed that you wouldn't dare show anybody.
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Jimin:
Jimin was watching from the sidelines as you posed for countless photographs for the magazine article that was going to go out, it was about the top 5 sexiest models in Seoul and you'd managed to get a place on it, you could hardly believe it when your manager called to tell you about it and you were shocked that you'd managed to get into the top 20 never mind the top 5 but Jimin reassured you that you were sexy every day. Promising you that you were going to win and even if you didn't you were still the sexiest in his eyes,
"You look great," Jimin smirked as you ran over to him, you were free for a 10-minute break while they cleared the set and got the other models ready. His hands were resting on your waist while you stared up at him with a smile on your lips, you leant up and gave him a quick kiss knowing you had to go and get changed quickly before everyone else came out.
"The other girls want to go for lunch after this, do you want to come with us?" He stared at you unsure about it since it was a bunch of girls,
"They're bringing their partners, you won't be alone." You giggled knowing exactly where his mind was going, third-wheeling with a bunch of models wasn't his idea of a fun lunch date.
"Sure, go get changed." He watched you walk off and then looked over at the other models who were getting ready and he knew you were a shoe-in for first place but maybe he was just being biased.
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Taehyung:
Taehyung didn't think you deserved first place he knew you deserved first place, you were the sexiest person in his eyes no matter what. You were the best person in his eyes and nothing could ever change his mind about it.
"You're being biased." You giggled looking at Tae as he wrapped his arm around you, you were at a party for those who were in the top five and they'd invited friends and family and you, of course, invited the boys and Taehyung to come with you since you were close with each of them,
"I don't think he is, we all think you deserve to be number one." Namjoon said as he passed you your drink, you stared at him and then over at the other models in the room. You didn't even see yourself up there with them but you were just happy to be counted,
"Baby, you're going to win," Taehyung whispered tucking your hair behind your ears and cupping your face, he then kissed you softly and pulled away to look you in the eyes.
"You deserve it anyway." You giggled and leant your head down on his shoulder he was always so nice to you with things like these. Always willing to support you and vote for you whenever you needed it,
"And if you don't win you're still sexy in my eyes," He whispered to you hoping no one else would hear him but they had,
"Mine too." Jimin joked kissing your cheek and running away before Taehyung to grab hold of him.
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Jungkook:
Jungkook was sneaking around to come and see you, no one knew that you were dating yet so it was going to be hard to get photographers and stylists not to mention seeing him at the shoot but he wanted to see you. You were shooting for the top 5 sexiest women and he wanted to show his support, he was watching you model in front of a camera, you were wearing high waisted shorts and a bikini top and you looked incredible but to Jungkook you looked incredible in anything and everything that he saw you in. He was sure you could wear nothing but a bin liner and look good to him,
"She's so sexy though, there's no way she's going to lose." He heard someone say and he looked over at them, it was two men who were working on the set and both of them were drooling over you.  
"She's single though, shall we make a move." He felt his blood boil and then he heard someone yell that you were switching positions. You were now laying on your front and they were staring more, after a couple of photos Jungkook could tell you were getting uncomfortable so he rushed over and helped you stand up,
"Kookie?" You questioned but he was dragging you off the set despite the yelling calls for you to come back and that the shoot wasn't over but Jungkook wasn't having it  he pulled you into a changing room and slammed you against the door attaching his lips to your neck and continuing to suck along the exposed skin,
"I fucking hate everyone who stares at you like that, you're mine and I'm going to make everyone know it." He smirked biting on your neck and groaning as you cried out his name.
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Tagline: 
@yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @kpopfanfictionhoes @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @btsiguess-kpop @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii 
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reki-of-the-valley · 3 years ago
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Boy Like a Fading Dream
A part two of the uni AU? More like a "I wanted to characterize the Langa of this AU". Wrote it a couple of days ago but didn't want to back-to-back post, just give a few days for the first part to settle in.
Find it on AO3 here!
Context: For his skills on a snowboard, Langa landed himself a scholarship. But he hates it. He hates his studies. He hates the athletic training. He just wants to go back to the time when it was fun, racing his dad to the bottom of the mountain.
“Where’s dad?”
Langa lets his bag hit the ground with a thud as he kicks off his shoes. His mother is in the living room; she’s cutting carrots in front of some sitcom. She lifts her head to smile at her son as soon as he enters her line of sight.
“How was your day, baby?”
Langa sighs as he crashes next to her. He feels her watch him as he picks up a carrot from the bowl before snapping it in half between his teeth. He feels her gaze, just as heavy as his eyelids are.
“Tiring.”
It’s all he manages to say to her. It’s all he finds to say. Tiring. His days are always just tiring.
“Did you have fun at practice?”
Fun? Langa barely remembers what that feels like. Fun, it feels like a foreign word now. He knows he must have felt it in the past, the thrill of gliding down the snowy slopes, but now it’s anything but fun. Snowboarding isn’t fun anymore, especially when there’s no snow outside. Especially when he’s cooped up in a gym rather than out on the open mountains.
So was training fun? No. No, it wasn’t.
“It was fine,” he lies. He can’t tell his mother how much he hates it. He can’t tell her when it’s what’s paying for his education – an education he also hates. “The usual, you know.”
Nanako pats his arm, her smile sweet and ever so motherly. “That’s good, baby. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
Langa sucks in a breath as his mother presses a kiss to his hair. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. If only she knew how big a lie that was. He would have done anything to just quit everything right now and lay in bed for the next ten years. Everything lost its appeal. If only everything could stop just for a moment, just for a minute, just enough time for Langa to catch his breath.
“Dad’s not home yet, is he?”
Nanako shakes her head. “He’s staying late tonight. He has a project that’s due, I think, tomorrow? Something about his team not being up-to-date so he has to stay late.”
Langa sighs again as he straightens out on the couch. He grabs another carrot before getting up to fetch his bag.
“I have to go study.”
Nanako doesn’t say anything as he leaves to climb the stairs that lead to his bedroom. Langa knows she’s watching him, watching his every move, but she doesn’t say anything. Maybe she can sense his disappointment. Maybe she knows that he’s lying to her.
Langa crashes in his bed, slinging his bag at the end of his mattress where it bounced before falling among the pile of dirty clothes he’s thrown aside. His room is a mess, but he can’t bring himself to clear out his trash. He’s already in a deficit of energy when just doing his mundane daily tasks. So he crashes among his pillows and pulls out his phone.
It's automatic, the swiping left and clicking on the app. It’s become a routine, crashing in bed and opening Instagram to scroll mindlessly. Langa doesn’t actually care for what’s on his screen, he just needs something to do, something to make him forget about the emptiness that’s formed in his chest.
So he scrolls. Pictures of old friends from high school, professional pictures and reels of snowboarders, screenshots of old Tumblr posts, reels of animals being cute, Langa scrolls through them all. He scrolls, scrolls until everything on his phone becomes a big blur. He scrolls until his phone slips from his fingers, falling flat on his face.
Another sigh as he turns to his side. His phone rests against his pillow as he goes back to scrolling. Always scrolling, numbing everything he’s ever felt. Because Langa does feel. He feels a million things, but none of those feelings are good. Frustration, loneliness, exhaustion, the list can go on. He hates all his feelings, especially that hollow feeling of disappointment that has been growing over the past year or so.
A notification pulls Langa out of his mindless scrolling. He usually ignores them, swiping them away, but for some reason, this one catches his attention. For some reason, he clicks it rather than get rid of it. The flash of red catches his attention.
.MechanicStarReki. – Suggested for you
Langa squints at his screen. The name doesn’t ring a bell but the face seems familiar. Familiar, but he can’t pinpoint where exactly it is that he’s seen it. His memory of the familiar face is hazy, like that of a dream starting to fade as morning takes shape. Familiar yet so foreign.
Langa scrolls through the profile, careful to not make his presence known. Most of the captions are in Japanese and he can’t find it in himself to decipher their meaning. He knows with a little effort, and maybe a little help from a translator app or from his mother, he could read the words, but he doesn’t bother. He contents himself with the scarce English. He contents himself with the many pictures of a boy with red hair.
The last post dates back a few weeks, a set of pictures with the caption “See you for Christmas.” The pictures show the redhead hugging who Langa assumes to be his sisters. They all look too much alike for them to not be family. Langa swipes between the pictures, taking in the scene: two school-aged girls cling to the boy, identical in all ways except the color of their dresses. He’s hugging them, a wide grin stretching across his face. Langa swipes again. Another girl is shown in the picture – she must be around 15. She’s pouting, but the sun reflects against the tears that had started to form at the corner of her eyes as she hugs the boy. Her eyes are the same color as his, a deep amber color that Langa knows he’s seen somewhere. He knows he's seen the boy, but he also knows it’s impossible. He can’t have seen him, not with the location associated with the picture: Okinawa, Japan. There’s no way he’s ever seen this boy; Langa’s only been to Japan once, the summer before he started high school.
Langa moves on from the set of pictures. He scrolls down, analyzing everything that has been posted over the years. Skateboards, sketches of various types, doodles, the boy with his friends, more of his family. Langa always pauses on the pictures of him. He always squints at him as if that would help him remember where he’s seen him.
A part of Langa knows that this is obsessive behavior, that he should just let it go, but he needs to know. He needs to know where he’s seen those faded freckles against sun-kissed skin. He needs to know where he’s seen those bright amber eyes. He needs to know where he’s seen that lopsided grin. He needs to know where he’s seen this boy, this boy that feels like a fading dream.
Does he resemble an actor from one of his mother’s shows, the Japanese ones she puts on while she cooks? No, that’s not it. He’s too young to look like any of those actors. Anyway, Langa never pays attention to the actors on the screen; he only knows the story because his mother has been following the ridiculous drama for years now. So the boy doesn’t just look like someone Langa might have seen on tv.
Does he look like an athlete Langa’s watched perform time after time, desperately trying to analyze his technique in hopes of recreating whatever is being done? No, it isn’t that either. Langa never recognizes the athletes, even when they tell him they've been competing against each other for years. He remembers their boards, but never their faces. So it isn’t that.
No matter how much Langa rakes his brain, he can’t find where it is that he’s seen the grin, the bright eyes, the freckles. Maybe the boy really is a figment of his imagination, a face given to a faceless dream that comes back every so often. Maybe he’s caught a glance of someone who looks like him in the street, or maybe it’s just a mere coincidence that the boy Langa’s made up looks like him, a mixture of a bunch of features that gave someone real. Or maybe Langa is delusional from his lack of sleep.
Langa drops his phone as his door is pushed open. He knows his mother knocked, but when he gets lost in his own little world, nothing else exists. Nothing exists until his bubble bursts.
“Langa sweetheart?” Nanako is standing in the doorway. She's looking at him, a slight frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. Her usual worry is evident in her features. “Is everything alright?”
Langa shifts, pushing his legs off of his bed to sit up. He nods at his mother, his words failing him. He hates how he finds himself unable to speak.
“Are you sure?” She shifts her weight to the side. Worry. “I’ve been calling you to set the table for the past 10 minutes now.”
Langa blinks at his mother before apologizing. He hadn’t heard her, he says. He had gotten lost in his own little world. He’s sorry, he’ll be down in a minute to set the table.
“Langa.” Nanako’s voice pierces through him as he fishes his phone out from under his pillow. “Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?”
Langa almost cracks. He almost tells her. He almost admits that he hates everything he’s doing. He almost admits that he hates going to school. He almost admits that he hates training. He almost admits that the thing he hates most is himself. Almost, but he doesn’t. He wouldn’t be able to survive the disappointed look on his mother’s face. He knows she would understand, that she’d tell him he’s allowed to quit, that she would support him no matter what, but he also knows she would be disappointed.
So he just smiles at her, that closed-mouthed smile he’s been practicing for years.
“I’m just tired.”
Nanako nods before making her way to him. She holds him tightly against herself, the warm embrace of a mother. And for a moment, Langa doesn’t hate himself.
“If you’re tired, I can bring your food up. You don’t have to eat downstairs if it’s too much.”
Langa shakes his head. Dinnertime is the only time of the day where he can spend time with his parents. Between classes and training, he’s barely ever home. It’s the only time where things feel normal, like they were back in the day when Langa was young, doing homework at the kitchen table while his mother cooked, explaining to him what he had to do. It’s the only time where he feels like they’re a family again.
“Just give me a minute and I’ll be down.”
Nanako sighs as she steps away from him, nodding. A small, tired smile pulls at the corner of her mouth as she turns back to him, halfway through the door.
“You promise you’d tell me if something was bothering you?”
Langa nods, promising, but the promise is hollow, his fingers crossed behind his back. It’s broken before even being uttered because Langa knows that he can’t make that promise. There’s just no way that he can promise such a thing. He can’t bring himself to tell anyone about how he feels. But still, he smiles and nods at his mother as she makes her way out of his room, down the stairs, back to the kitchen. He smiles until he can’t bear it anymore and crystal tears fall from his eyes, fall right onto the picture of the grinning boy in his phone, the phone he's been gripping so tightly.
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yami-writes · 4 years ago
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Coffee & Chocolates - Cupid’s Arrow
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(✨) paring(s) — kaminari x gn!reader (🔮) synopsis — Denki finds himself falling hard for the pretty stranger at the cafe~ how would attempt to show his ever-growing love for them on the quickly approaching Valentine's Day~? (⚠️) warning(s) — none! (🔖) word count — 1.2K (💌) yami's note — denki is so cute omg 🥺 gotta write him more often~ aLSO HUGE THANKS TO @mortedeveles​ FOR MAKING ME THIS AWESOME BANNER LIKE DAMN LOOK AT IT BHJVUJGBI MWAH LOVE U VELES!! <3
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“C’mon! You totally have a huge crush on them!!” Mina pestered in her usual manner. “Just admit it!” 
“I do not!” Denki insisted for what felt like the 100th time. “You’re not very good at lying, Kaminari.” Tsuyu entered the back room. “But I’m not lying!” 
“Yes you are! We all see how you look at them when they enter the cafe~” Mina smirked, “You give them total heart eyes!” Denki’s cheeks tinted pink as he realized how bad he is at keeping his feelings for strangers under wraps. “Why do you guys care so much, anyway~,” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because! I can help you get a date with them!” 
“You can!?”
“Of course I can!”
━━━━━━━━━♥━━━━━━━━━
How long has it been? a few days? A week? Two weeks? Denki wasn’t quite sure, but it felt as if it was a year ago, and the day wasn’t even here yet. 
The chilly February breeze blew against him, despite him wearing a winter jacket and a sweater underneath, it caused him to shiver. It was a gloomy Monday, the clouds far too dark and thick for the warmth of the sun rays to pierce through. Denki’s phone illuminated his face as he checked the time and unread messages. 
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Denki ran the rest of the way to the coffee shop, the name ‘y/n’ playing over and over in his head. ‘How can a person be so attractive and have such a pretty name too?’ the boy pondered to himself.
In what felt like no time, Denki found himself in front of the cafe, panting with his hands on his knees. He inhaled and exhaled from his mouth, the frosty air causing pain in his throat. With a final exaggerated sigh, he straightened his posture and opened the front door, the bell on it ringing, signalling his arrival. 
“Hey, Denki!!! You’re here!! And not late!!” Mina shoved her phone in Denki’s face, her bright pink lockscreen slightly blinding him. 9:01AM, four minutes early. “Yea, yea, whatever,” he places his backpack on an empty table. “Is...is Aizawa mad at me???” he grimaces, the thought of his boss scolding him again sending shivers down his spine. 
“Probably not. Just don’t do anything stupid today and you’ll be fine,” Tsuyu joined their conversation as she wiped down a table. 
“Thank god..” Denki sighs of relief before picking up his bag and making his way to the back room. Taking off his jacket, he continues to think about the ravishing stranger that pays a visit to the cafe every morning. It’s truly a wonder how they take up so much space in his mind and yet he only just learned their name today.
━━━━━━━━━♥━━━━━━━━━
Denki watched the attractive stranger skip into the cafe, as usual, sitting down in their preferred spot and taking out their laptop, beginning to type away. Their pretty eyes stayed glued to their screen as they seemed to have their full attention on whatever they were working on. Denki begins to wonder what they're typing, who they follow on Instagram, their favourite movies and books, their interests, what makes them laugh... who they are. It’s clear to him that he’s fallen much deeper than just love, with a stranger, no less.
Customers wait around for their orders, some taking seats at tables, others lounge by the windows. Some calming music played from the Cafe's radio, a particular group in the corner taking an obvious interest in it.  Denki also enjoyed the music quite a lot, he was the one who suggested playing it, after all. y/n took the next 10 minutes to continue working, before getting up and making their order. It was always spontaneous with them, sometimes they would decide to order their favourite drink for multiple days in a row, other times they would try a new drink, sometimes they ordered a pastry with their drink. The consistency just isn't there, but Denki likes that. 
Soon enough, the stranger takes a break from their work, coming up to the counter with their order. Denki listens to them closely, playing uncomfortably close attention to how they word their order, how their oh so kissable lips move while they talk, and he can’t forget the ‘please’ and ‘thank you’s they put at the end of their sentences. For whatever reason, it had Denki swooning. 
February 14 couldn’t come fast enough. 
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Okay, nevermind, February 14 came a little too fast for Denki’s liking. His infatuation with the stranger kept growing, the regular customer unknowingly making their way into his heart. Mina teased him about his crush on them every day, always expressing how she can’t wait to see the two of them get together, which never failed to get Denki’s cheeks to burn a light pink. 
y/n entered the cafe, per usual, sitting down at the same seat they always do. They got out their phone and scrolled for a while, swaying their head to the music playing throughout the building. They always seemed to enjoy the tunes that played. How would they feel if they knew Denki was the one who chose them? 
Denki’s heart tempted to leap out of his chest when y/n got up from their seat, placing their phone in the pocket of their sweater and heading to the counter to supposedly order something. “Now’s your chance!” Mina pestered. “W-wait! Not yet!”
“Don’t be a coward! Now’s your only chance!!”
“I’m not a coward!! And I know that!”
“Then don’t mess this up!!”
Denki straightened his posture as they approached, rehearsing pickup lines in his head, not that he would actually use any. “H-hello! What can I get you today?” He slightly stuttered. “Uhm…” y/n pondered for a moment. “Can I just have a hot chocolate, please?” 
“Right!... B-by the way, uh,” Denki paused for a moment, feeling slightly too long for y/n’s liking. “Since, y’know, today is Valentine's Day and all~ I-I was wondering if you would maybe, want to uh,, go to the movies? With me?” y/n’s eyebrows raised at his proposal, which only managed to raise Denki’s stress levels. “Y-you don’t have to accept!! I’ve just... Been noticing you a lot, a-and I think you’re pretty cool and I wanna get to know you... But it’s okay if you don’t want to know me-!!” 
“I think you’re cool too~” y/n cuts him off. “I actually only really come to this cafe for the music, but also ‘cause I’ve been meaning to ask you out too, I’ve just been gathering the courage.” They laugh awkwardly. Denki’s face lights up, a happy puppy being a good comparison. With his nervousness and butterflies in his stomach in the form of gloomy storm clouds out the way, all the shone now was bright rays of sunlight, his confidence, now gets a chance to shine. 
“Well then, in that case, ~ Meet me here, 6pm~” Denki takes a paper from his pocket, graciously handing it to y/n. “Maybe call me too,” He winks, prompting a giggle from y/n. “My name’s y/n!” 
“I’m Kaminari~ but call me Denki, sweetie,” 
“Okay, Denki.” y/n smiles, putting the piece of paper holding the movie theatre address as well as Denki’s number in their pocket. 
“I’ll see you there~” 
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masterlist
cupid’s arrow masterlist
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y0ur-h0nor · 4 years ago
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[ Please do not post my writing on different social media platforms, if I end up finding you reposting or stealing and claiming it as yours I will have to rearrange your guts in your fucking sleep, I ain't joking so think before you act upon it.]
A/n: This is the second part of High Achiever so if you guys haven't read the first part, link is here.
Fem! Reader.
After arriving at the mall the five of you had discussed what to do inside and about the time management so the five of you could line up for movie tickets at the cinema because you guys didn't want to wait for a long time so the five of you decided that you'd be 30 minutes early to line up for tickets and then eat lunch, then you guys could hit the arcade to play some games before buying snacks and waiting to line up at the cinema for the movie.
So, as you guys lined up for the tickets the guys were just talking about video games and Kyle and Eric would argue a bit before they changed the topic to defuse the tension, you had never hanged out with people out of school and when you had to come over for a school project and vice versa, you were really behind with the trends due to you 'living under a rock' and had any time for herself because you spent most of your time with lessons and free time was just for you to practice the piano or violin.
You didn't listen in with their conversation anymore because you started to zone out which was always rare but it happened enough for you to be aware with this tempting tendency, it was always when you were deep in thought or when class was being to boring to pay attention to but since you were a smart student you had to listen and par attention so you didn't miss anything and disappoint anyone because your grades had dropped slightly and besides, you didn't want your Mother to be even stricter with lessons because of a feeble mistake you had made.
"I never thought the top student Y/n Thompson would be very different people expected you to be." The mention of your name had made you come back and turn to them, their attention to you "Huh?" Eric says  "Well, you don't seem like a real nerd you don't spout out smart nonsense and-" "and your lowkey hot." Kenny cuts off Eric earning a smack from Kyle who gives him a disappointed look.
"Oh, uh..well all that smart stuff was because I was forced to study hard that's all." You say nonchantly.
"Forced to?" Stan repeats, Your eyes widen realizing your sudden slip up you frantically wave your arms and spout out excuses "Oh that's just nothing!" You stutter and awkwardly chuckled rubbing your neck.
"Well, you can just tell us when your ready, you don't need to rush." Kyle says, he already knew but he just decided to exclude that you had already told him so his friends won't try to pry explanations from him because it should be you who should tell them.
Stan nodded.
Kenny put a thumbs up and Eric just let out a 'hmph' but nodded.
You smiled and went to attack them with a hug to which Eric screamed to get away, Kenny and Kyle went wide eyed and Stan just went flustered but they didn't budge but just let you.
The rest of the day was really fun and it seemed you felt like a whole different person without having people expectations weighing down on you.
As you waved goodbye you turned around and took your keys and opened your door, you expected your Mom to be waiting for you and ready to be scolding you but you were greeted with your Mom passed out on the couch with a wine bottle in hand, you sighed and went to get a blanket to tuck your Mother in so she didn't get cold.
You really wanted to repair things with your Mom because of course she was your Mother and tried telling her how you felt about things, key word 'tried', she didn't listen she just told you how it was a bad idea to let you study in public school to begin with and she should've proceeded with her plan to home school you instead.
You started to tuck your Mother in and carefully took the bottle away from her hand "I'm so sorry.." You froze and looked up but then sighed in relief that your Mom was just probably dreaming, you placed down the bottle and stood up to go to your room but stopped when your Mother spoke in her sleep again "Mommy's sorry baby.." She whimpers and snuggles into the blanket, you brush hair away from her face and kissed her cheek and went upstairs after closing the lights.
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You and your Mom make up and go to happy land along with your friends and Eric who happens to be your new boyfriend and livehappilyeverafter :D
I'm just joking I hate writing quick happy endings because I happen to be an angst writer so-
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It was Monday and another day of going to school, you get out of the covers of your bed and went to go down stairs and get some breakfast, hearing chatter in the kitchen you slowly look to see who your Mother was talking to, peeking at the corner you gasp.
It was your older brother Micheal, He was smiling and talking to Mom it had been long since he was willing to get along with your Mother because she always nagged him about his future and him and Mom would always argue about his decisions those arguments prompted him to move out after he graduated College.
"Micheal!" You exclaim his name and he turns around and his smile widened even more, you went to tackle him into a hug crying into his shoulder, you long missed your brother and you missed the warmth of your brother.
"Hey, Kitten you've grown taller." he says rubbing your back.
"Oh shut up, you just happen to have taken all the tall genes." you say sniffling.
Your Mother smiles at the exchange and looks down to the floor guilty of the things she did to ruin her family from being like this all the time, she just wanted her children to grow up successful in life and not have to worry about their future but she took it the wrong way and drove away her son and robbed her daughter of a normal childhood.
"I'm sorry.." She says fiddling with her fingers looking down at her feet, she should've said this a long time ago and maybe her family would've been much more normal.
You and Micheal look at each other then to your Mother before encasing her in a hug, you forgave your Mother years ago already just waiting for her to realize what she had done wasn't right, she was human after all no one was perfect and everyone made mistakes.
A week had passed after that moment and things had gotten much more closer with your Family, no longer strangers living in the same household.
You had gotten better, your grades were still good but there were certain major changes in your daily routine you were allowed to do things you couldn't like do extra curricular activities so you chose (Activity/sport) as an extra curricular and would stay at school for a while for certain (activity/sport).
You also had started hanging out with Kyle and his friends more, and also was finally formally introduced to Stan's girlfriend Wendy Testaburger sure she was suspicious of you at first but eventually she opened up to you and you just jokingly flirt with her when you and her are around Stan, the look on his face was always priceless but those flirty words all just a part of a harmless joke but you were sometimes genuine though.
You and the gang were hanging out at Eric's place this time, the five of you were going to hang out there to play video games and eat pizza and also have a sleepover, your Mother was reluctant at first for letting you go but she decided to let you have fun as long you didn't do anything risky and you just told her that you wouldn't even do anything "risky" with one of the boys or whatever she was thinking about (no offence to your friends though bless them but you don't see them like that in anyway even if with or without a girlfriend you just don't see yourself dating at the moment.)
Kenny, Kyle and Stan were downstairs picking out video games to play and getting bowls for the snacks you had brought, you already had soda cans in a cooler on the floor so no need for cups or anything like that.
You were scrolling through your before deciding now should be the time to talk about something you knew about for some time now, the evident scars you saw decorating his wrist it was hard to notice but you somehow saw them.
"Hey Eric?" You say looking up from your phone to look at the boy munching on one of the chips you brought "Yeah?" He responds not looking up "Do you...Do you want to talk about it?" You question.
"About what?" Finally, he looks up at you with a confused expression with eyebrows furrowing "The scars." You say.
His breath hitches and his widens even more fiddling with the ends of his jacket sleeve his expression becomes solemn he looks down and he tried not to start crying then and there.
Y/n stands from her spot and due to this action Eric looks up at her but his body goes stiff due to Y/n hugging him he relaxes and slowly sinks into the hug and cries into her shoulder Eric was never one to open up to these kind of things or soften up to other people but due to the tip of the glass the water just came pouring out.
"You don't need to say anything right now but if you need someone to be there I'm always here for you now that we're friends."  She says rubbing circles onto his back.
He sniffles nodding, they stayed there for a while before Y/n pulls away and smiles at him "Let's go downstairs and see what's taking them long." She says standing up and offering him a hand.
Not long after that the relationship slowly bloomed, nourished by the moments they spent together Eric found a comfort in Y/n she didn't judge him because of his problems instead she encourages her to tell him how he feels and tries to help him in anyway she can.
And yet a new feeling seem to bloom between the two Eric thought of things about her he has never thought of, always missing the feeling of her embrace and he felt much more happier around her and just started thinking of her more, subtle glances at her were caught on by the boys and it didn't take long till they caught on to Eric's attraction to their female friend.
Teasing was made, at first Kyle like icky because it was Eric who was in love with you but the more time went on and the way he sees Eric look at you from afar he was convinced that maybe you guys were meant to be, you did bump into him and that's how you know destiny has you guys wrapped around it's finger.
The guys would give advice towards Eric about the way of courting you, Stan wasn't really much of a good help because Wendy was always the one to initiate things between them which earned teasing looks and remarks whirling his way.
But in the end Eric confesses when you guys were on your weekly movie day, after the movie played and people were exiting you were about to start leaving after getting your things but Eric grabs your wrist and you turn to look at Eric confused, he looked hesitant before sighing and looking at you in the eyes blush tinting his cheeks he says "I know this may seem out of character for me but I just wanted to say ever since we started hanging out and all this" he gestures to the two of you and continues "I consider you as a really good friend.." He says you smile at him despite the hurt you were feeling at the mention of friend "but I don't want to be "friends"  anymore" he says raising his hands air quoting the word friends you furrow your eyebrows 'Does he not want to be friends anymore?' but before you could say anything Eric takes your hands into his and you look up at him.
He smiles at you so lovingly.
He tucks a hair behind your ear "Y/n Thompson, would you be my girlfriend?" He asks caressing your cheek.
You look at him and tears start prickle your eyes at first Eric's expression changes and he started to get worried he opened his mouth to ask if you were okay but before he got to you attacked him into a hug and kissed him his eyes widen but melts into both the hug and kissing wrapping his arms around you.
The two of you pull away and you smile up at him "Of course I'll be your girlfriend!" You say wiping away your tears with your sleeve the two of you look at each other before kissing again.
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This is it fpr Part 2 and I'll be posting another South Park work, I have about 2 more to post and then I'll be working on a request an anon sent me.
Like my work? Consider following!
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hale-13 · 4 years ago
Text
Slipping Through the Cracks
By Hale13
For the Summer of Whump Day 5 - Broken
Just when his life was finally leveling out Parker luck struck again. Peter has had four opportunities with parents and has lost all of them. The way he sees it, this is the least of what he deserves.
Post-Homecoming - Tony didn’t meet with Peter immediately to offer him a place on the Avengers.
Words: 3856, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English
Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Rating: Gen-Teen
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Ned Leeds
TW: Depression, Dissociation, a single line of Suicidal Ideation, Referenced Child Abuse
Read on AO3 or below the line break.
Peter was silent as he exited Midtown with Ned keeping a quiet pace with him. Seven months ago they would be just as excited as their classmates for the weekend, for the plans that they surely would have made to build Legos or marathon movies or even to just study together. Ned would have been ecstatic to set up in Peter’s bedroom as his ‘guy in the chair’ while Peter did a quick patrol or two. If they were at Peter’s instead of Ned’s, May would attempt some new dish that would, inevitably, be awful and they would order pizza from their favorite place for dinner.
Now Peter never saw any of his limited friend group outside of school. He didn’t build Legos or watch movies or eat take-out pizza and he certainly wasn’t Spider-Man anymore – he had given that up after the Homecoming disaster when he had destroyed Mr. Stark’s plane.
It had been just over six months since he had found May dead in their kitchen and Peter didn’t really do anything at all anymore.
The ER doctors told Peter that she had an undiagnosed aneurysm that had finally burst – there was no way for anyone to know. She went quickly. She felt no pain. There was nothing that Peter could have done even if he was there when it happened.
The reassurances meant nothing really – Peter was numb. May was his last living family member, he had no one else and nowhere to turn. He can vaguely remember telling the social worker that was with him when they told him the news about May that he was alone now. He can remember being taken forcibly from the hospital before he was ready to go, wanting to kick and scream and drag his heels but too shocked to do so. And then everything was a blur.
Somewhere in his mind he knew that he had been allowed to pack up everything important from their apartment to go into storage until he was eighteen besides the bag of essentials he had for himself. He knew that everything else was donated or sold to pay off their remaining debt and the medical bills he had incurred by calling for help when he found May on the kitchen floor. He knew that the social worker told him that, even after selling everything, they couldn’t afford a funeral. He has a business card in his wallet with the number of the crematorium that was holding May’s ashes until he was old enough to retrieve them and, hopefully, give her a proper burial in their family plot next to Ben.
He spent the two weeks after in a group home, mute and dissociating with seven other boys in similar situations. He didn’t go to school, but he remembers the constant stream of unanswered texts and calls from Ned and MJ before his phone plan was discontinued then his phone became a dead relic in his bag. There were a lot of discussions about school that Peter didn’t take part in but, thanks to his full scholarship, he was able to continue at Midtown at least until the end of the year.
And then he was placed with his foster parents.
The Fishers seemed to be pleasant people when Peter first met them; they didn’t force him to speak, they had extensive fostering experience with teenagers and were willing to pay for his subway pass so he could get to and from his school even though there was a decent public school in walking distance. It didn’t take long, however, for their true colors to show.
Now, though, Peter knew the rules. He was always home by his curfew of four on school days and he never went out on the weekends. His grades were perfect. He kept his undecorated room spotless. He cooked supper every evening and breakfast and dinner on the weekends. He kept the house presentable. He stayed out of the Fishers way. Mostly he drifted. His days slid together to the point he had difficultly remembering entire weeks passing him by but it was fine.
He was fine.
“I’ll see you Monday,” Ned muttered as he split off to get in his mom’s car, not acknowledging the pathetic little wave Peter offered in return. A coiling feeling settled in his gut and Perter felt guilt rise up to swirl in his throat. Ned was his best friend and he was treating him like shit. With Peter basically unresponsive, bullies had taken to picking on Ned instead… well except for Flash. Flash had been the only one to back off and stand up for both of them – it helped but didn’t fix everything.
“Better if he leaves you now,” a little voice in his head whispered. “It’s better to be alone.” And maybe at one point he would have fought against that mindset but now he couldn’t help but agree. Peter destroyed everything he touched and everyone around him was doomed for misery. Better for Ned to get out while he could.
Lethargically, Peter began across the empty football field toward the subway entrance – his trip home was always a little tight and he couldn’t afford to miss this train.
“Peter!” A harried voice shouted as his shoulder was grabbed and he was roughly turned around to face a red-faced and irritated Happy Hogan. Peter’s mind blanked for a moment in total shock at seeing the man again after so long. “Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”
“Sorry Mr. Hogan,” Peter mumbled, not making eye contact. He felt the phantom sting from the slap he had gotten for that when he first moved into foster care burning his bare cheek.
“The Boss has been calling you, he wants to chat. You screening our calls now?” Happy asked, accusatory as his eyes raked down Peter’s form. Peter felt a shiver crawl up his spine and kept his sight locked on Happy’s chin, trying to remain as relaxed as possible. It was important to not draw any unwanted attention to himself.
“No sir,” he answered, voice a little rough and quiet with disuse. “I don’t have a phone anymore.” Happy huffed and narrowed his eyes at Peter before steering him to the expensive Audi parked in front of the school.
“No matter, he wants to talk to you in person anyway. Hop in and I’ll take you to the Tower.” Peter gulped and fought the urge to dig his heels in – it wouldn’t be polite.
“I have a curfew of four,” he protested weakly as Happy pulled open the door for him and motioned for him to climb in. Peter hesitated but relented when Happy gave him a little shrug.
“I’m sure May will understand and Tony can always give her a call to clear anything up.” And with that Peter was gone. No one had said her name since she died and the thought… the very implication that he could still be living with his aunt, happy and carefree, was insane. His mind floated away and he felt like he was watching himself as a specter. He saw his body relax but his eyes were distant, cloudy. Happy, for the first time that Peter could remember, didn’t raise the partition between the front and rear seats and, instead, watched Peter in the rear view mirror.
The drive to the Tower took over thirty minutes with traffic and Peter would be panicking about how late he was going to be if he had any capacity to feel at all. Instead, he let his mind wander as the skyscrapers of Manhattan blurred into a grey mosaic outside the window, fat raindrops sporadically hitting the window as a drizzle started. “We’re here,” Happy told him as he parked the car in the underground garage that was reserved for Mr. Stark and other high level staff of the Tower. Peter popped his door open and followed the man to the private elevator that he assumed would take them to Mr. Stark’s office.
“Hello Happy. Hello Peter,” the disembodied voice of Mr. Stark’s AI, FRIDAY, said as the doors closed and the elevator began to move. “Boss is awaiting your arrival in his workshop.”
“Thanks FRIDAY,” Happy said, texting intently on his phone. Peter just remained silent as the elevator began to slow before stopping completely, the doors trundling open soundlessly. Happy nudged Peter out but remained inside the car as the doors closed, leaving Peter alone in the sleek room.
Tony was seated in front of a large hologram of his armor, code scrolling past on his monitor as he made adjustments. “Mr. Parker,” he said as Peter edged closer to him, not looking up from his work. “You’re a hard man to get in contact with.”
Though Tony sounded more forthright than angry, Peter still had to fight the cringe in his shoulders as he came to a stop about ten feet away from the work bench – out of reach and with enough time to prepare if the man were to make any sudden moves. “Sorry,” he murmured, keeping his eyes low and doing his best to keep his shoulders from curling in – the last thing he needed to do was show any weakness.
“No need for apologies,” Tony said, light, as he fiddled with a holo mechanism in the right repulser. “Just a statement of fact. According to the news Spider-Man has also been just as difficult to find.”
Peter just hummed in response, choosing not to comment on his previous alter-ego. He didn’t much feel like a hero these days.
“A man of few words,” Tony commented, shutting down the programs in front of him and turning to face Peter fully. “Are you the same kid who was talking my ear off in Germany a year ago?”
“Yes sir,” Peter said, keeping his eyes focused on Tony’s chin. He could feel his mind slipping as his heart rate sped up and he struggled to keep present – it was getting harder and harder to stay in the moment the more he allowed himself to get lost in his head. He occasionally dreamed that one day it might be permanent; one of the few good dreams he had.
“Sir?” Tony parroted, his eyebrows raising and a flash of guilt washing over his features quickly before disappearing. “Look kid, I think I owe you an apology. Actually, I know I owe you an apology. I didn’t communicate with you about the whole alien weapons take-down thing. I underestimated you and treated you like a side-kick and ignored you and then I left you alone and without any protection and you saved my bacon anyway.”
“I deserved it,” Peter said matter-of-factly. “I was in over my head and I disobeyed. The punishment fit the crime.”
“No it didn’t,” Tony told him bluntly but firmly, looking surprised but resolute. “Maybe we both share some fault in the situation but I’m the adult and the one with experience and I didn’t do anything to teach you or help you and for that I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Peter assured him, allowing himself to tap his index finger against his thigh once to let out his stress. Mr. Fisher didn’t like his constant fidgeting and Peter knew that it was pretty annoying so he had done his best to learn how to stand as still as possible to not incur any extra punishments – the index finger tap he was able to normally get away with.
Mr. Stark’s eyes were narrowed as he surveyed Peter. “I wanted to offer you a real spot as my intern. You could spend a few days a week in the shop working on tech and I made you a new and improved suit for the other part of your ‘internship’. I promise that you’ll always have the support you need to be New York’s Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. You’re the future of the Avengers, kid, its pretty clear to me now. Your spot on the team is there whenever you want to take it.”
For the briefest of moments, Peter was overwhelmed with excitement and incredulity. Ever since Tony had announced he was Iron Man to the world, Peter had wanted nothing more than to be a superhero as well, to be an Avenger. If Tony had offered him a spot on the team after Germany, Peter would have taken it in an instant. Now…
“Thank you Mr. Stark,” Peter said, voice still a little broken and hoarse from how little he spoke these days. “But I can’t.”
“Oh you don’t have to join now,” the man assured, misunderstanding. “You’ll need some training first but Rhodey and Vision are always down to join us at the compound for some group work. You have a lot of potential.”
“Thanks but that’s not what I meant,” Peter clarified. “I have to decline all of it but I appreciate the offer.”
“Oh,” Tony looked a little crestfallen, a dark expression of acceptance on his defined features. “I understand. Broken trust and all that. Sure.”
“It’s not that,” Peter reassured quickly. “I don’t hold anything against you – I was the one who messed up. It’s just I have a four o’clock curfew every day so I can’t do the internship.”
“That’s easily remedied!” Mr. Stark said, his eyes lifting with a smile and looking relieved. “I’ll just give Aunt Hottie a call and work things out and we’ll have you in the lab and out swinging through the streets in no time!”
Peter’s ears fuzzed out again, a sharp high-pitched note cutting off Tony’s excited words as a feeling of immense emotion flooded through Peter before he could tamp it down. His breathing felt a little ragged in his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment to gather himself. “My aunt is dead,” Peter gritted out, interrupting Tony and rendering him speechless. “She died six months ago. My foster… the people fostering me are a little more strict.”
“Oh,” Tony said, face blank and an awkward silence filling the space. Peter gripped his worn down backpack straps and backed toward the elevator.
“Thanks for the offer,” Peter said earnestly. “It really is an honor I just…” he trailed off. “Thanks. For everything.”
And with that, he entered the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby, the doors shutting on Tony’s pitying expression before the man could say anything much to Peter’s relief. The metro card the Fishers had gotten him only had a set amount of money on it every month so Peter would be hoofing it back to their house from the Tower. His cracked watch face told him that it was already close to four-thirty and his stomach bubbled with anxiety. At this rate he wouldn’t be back in time to have dinner on the table at five-thirty.
Resigned to his punishments, Peter left the building through the shining lobby and pointed himself toward Queens, moving as fast as he could.
——————-
“You’re late,” Mr. Fishers’s tone was short and monotonous from where he was seated on the couch. The house was otherwise quiet which meant Mrs. Fisher was out that evening.
“I’m sorry sir,” Peter whispered looking at the floor and making no excuses. He had learned the hard way that trying to justify his poor behavior only made things worse for him in the long run.
“Go to your room,” Mr. Fisher told him making Peter cringe. “I’ll join you in a moment.”
Later, when Peter was lying on the bed with silent tears still leaking from his eyes and his back and ribs stinging in pain, he thought about Mr. Stark’s offer with selfish desire. In another universe, in another life, he would have been elated but now he only felt desolation - life always did like to dangle things in front of him he couldn’t have.
Setting his alarm for five-thirty so he wouldn’t oversleep, Peter let his consciousness slip away into the ether, mind going blissfully empty and blank.
——————-
Monday came both faster and slower than Peter wanted. His body still ached from his well-deserved punishment and he was exhausted from the extra chores and minimal food he had been offered as a result of his actions. School passed in a lonely blur for him as he drifted from class to class, hiding away in the deserted music room during lunch to avoid Ned and MJ. They didn’t ask as many questions anymore but Peter didn’t want to put himself in a situation where he would have to lie to his friends again.
When the final bell of the day rang, Peter chose to not stop by his locker where he may be ambushed and, instead, left the school, headed directly for the subway. He had nearly made it when a body physically blocked him from the stairs.
“Howdy Pete,” Mr. Stark said, peering over his glasses to look at Peter and Peter did his best to school his expression into indifference. He couldn’t be late again. He couldn’t take another punishment, he was just so tired all he wanted to do was sleep. Maybe forever. “Where are you headed?”
“Back to my fosters,” Peter told him, trying to skirt around. “I have a four o’clock curfew.”
“I remember you saying something about that,” Mr. Stark agreed with a nod. “Tell you what – let me give you a ride home. You’ll get home well before your curfew and I can talk to your foster parents about the internship. Who can say no to Tony Stark right?”
“NO!” Peter said loudly before smacking a palm over his mouth. He could feel the blood draining from his face as his body tensed, preparing for the correction he knew was coming. Mr. Stark’s brow was furrowed now and his eyes behind his blue glasses had a twinkle of understanding in them.
“Peter,” he began, reaching a hand out with the intention of lying his hand on Peter’s shoulder but he never got that far. Seeing the hand coming towards him and already being on high alert after his exclamation, Peter violently flinched away, only barely able to catch himself from falling over due to his enhanced reflexes, and squeezed his eyes shut tight. “Oh Peter,” Tony said, a desolate understanding in his voice.
Peter cracked his eyes open to see Mr. Stark with both hands raised in the universal ‘backing off’ signal, a soft look on his face. “Sorry sir,” Peter croaked out. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s fine.”
“Do you have something you need to tell me kiddo?” Tony’s voice was soft and gentle and Peter felt his eyes well up with tears he hastily blinked away as he shook his head quickly. “It’s okay buddy. You can tell me.”
“I’m fine. I’m okay. It’s fine.” Tony looked even more crestfallen at Peter’s answer and tapped the side of his glasses to activate FRIDAY.
“Can you I’ve me a scan FRI?” He asked and Peter flinched again knowing there was no way to hide the broken and healing bones and skin that he had been doing his best to conceal. Tony’s face was tight as he stared at Peter and Peter felt all of the blood left in his face drain away.
“I deserved it,” Peter told him desperately. “I disobeyed, it was my fault.” Mr. Stark just looked even more beaten at his words and Peter felt his breathing picking up.
“It’s not,” Tony said, voice still unbelievably soft but firm. “It’s not your fault and you didn’t deserve it. You’re a great kid Pete.” Peter shook his head no and couldn’t stop a couple tears from leaking out before furiously wiping them away. “I promise that it wasn’t your fault Underoos. Will you let me help you?”
“You can’t,” Peter said, feeling hollow. “Everyone… everyone close to me dies. I’m cursed and I can’t do that to you too Mr. Stark.”
“Can I hug you?” Tony asked suddenly, arms twitching with need. After a seconds hesitation, Peter nodded and was hastily folded into the man’s arms; one arm tight around his shoulders and the other snaking up into his hair to pull through the too long strands carefully. Peter felt more tears leak out and, suddenly, he couldn’t hold it in any longer, throwing his own arms around Tony to return the hug and letting out a gut-wrenching sob into the man’s shoulder. Tony just shushed him and let him take as much comfort as he could. “You’re not cursed and none of this is your fault. I get the feeling no one has told you that yet and you need to hear it.”
Peter sobbed loudly again, curling in tighter. He had always thrived on positive affirmation and had grown up in a family where hugs and shoulder pats and forehead kisses were the norm. To go so long without… he had forgotten how nice it was to just be held and cared for. “Thank you,” Peter said, his voice clogged with emotion. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Tony said firmly. “Anyone decent would do the same thing and it’s the least of what you deserve.”
Peter squeezed him one more time and took a deep breath before pulling away. “Thank you,” he reiterated, fighting to make eye contact so he could show just how sincere he was. “But I need to get back before four and I already missed my train. I can’t be late.” Tony, who still had one hand resting on Peter’s shoulder, gripped him tightly to prevent him from escaping up the stairs to the train.
“You aren’t going back,” he said firmly, ducking his head and forcing Peter to make eye contact. “You’re coming with me back to the Tower where I’m going to call CPS and my lawyers. You’re never going back there again.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” Peter insisted. “It’s really not that bad if I’m home on time and do my chores and stay in my room. And its only two more years until I’m eighteen and then I can get a job and an apartment.”
“Pete,” Tony said, eyes shining as he wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders and started leading him away from the subway and toward the Audi that was parked in the pickup lane; Peter could see the outline of Happy’s silhouette in the driver’s seat. “You deserve better. You deserve somewhere safe and you deserve to have someone care about you. I know you don’t believe it now and that’s okay – I’m just going to keep telling you until you do.”
Peter sniffed back another onslaught of tears and allowed himself to be pulled away. “Thank you Mr. Stark,” he said, voice clogged with emotion.
“It’s Tony kiddo,” the man told him with another squeeze that warmed Peter to the core. “And you don’t need to thank me for this okay?”
“Okay,” Peter agreed, fully aware and present and wanting to be for the first time in a long time. Things were never going to be the same, but maybe, just maybe, they would get better.
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Text
Family Relations - Part 3
Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.
T/CW: Violence, not kidnapping but Stiles takes reader to a place she doesn't know and doesn't like 100% get her consent for it but also she's not upset about it, oh! and one cheeky sexual implication at the end
A/N: I'm about 90% sure I'm slipping into a depression slump and I won't be able to get it fixed for at least another month, so my update schedule - not that I have one - might be a little longer than usual.
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Late night walks weren't unusual for you, you liked clearing your head before you went to sleep and you found that nature was always one of the best ways to do so. You'd been enjoying yourself in peace and quiet when an obnoxiously loud jeep started heading your way, the headlights glaring at you and the muffler failing to do a lot of muffling. You were waiting for it to pass but instead it stopped next to you, Stiles' head popping out of the drivers' side window.
"Y/n? What are you doing out so late?" You ran over to his side, the cool air making the metal of his car freezing to the touch.
"Taking a walk." You hummed, inspecting the vehicle and finding that it was painted blue with a special addition of duct tape on pieces that looked like they should be considered a safety hazard.
"It's 11:00 at night?" The moon shone brightly above you, a cloudless sky making it perfect for a nice outing.
"I like night walks."
"You shouldn't be out alone at night, it's not safe." Suppressing the instinct to tell Stiles that it only wasn't safe for people who couldn't break your bones without touching someone, you gave him a shrug and started walking away. His hand grabbed your wrist lightly, stopping you from continuing your stroll.
"No way. I am not letting you walk around at night on your own. Hop in, I'll drive you home." You gave him a pout and he got out of the car, hand still holding your wrist, to open the passenger door for you. As the door shut, a large gust of what felt like wind pushed the car to the side, the vehicle's wheels screeching in protest as a wide but shallow dent was made along the driver's side.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Stiles' complaints were loud enough for all of California to hear them but you were more focused on what just caused the dent. Getting swiftly out of the car, despite Stiles' protests, you stood in front of it, waiting for something else to happen.
You got your wish when a large vine made its way out of the thick of the brush and straight towards you and Stiles. Within a split second you were in action, bringing up a hand to create a shield, temporarily blocking the vine while your brain worked overtime to think of a way to defeat the plant.
"Stiles!" You called out to your friend, his voice replying from what sounded like miles behind you but in reality he was simply a few feet from where you were standing.
"I need you to duck!" You hoped your yelling was reaching him and you got confirmation when you heard a loud and broken 'what?!' in response to your request.
"Just do it ok, you have to trust me!" With that he called out a hesitant affirmative and you let the shield down for a split second to send a blade of air slicing through the vine, cutting it directly down the center as it fell to the ground. You held the shield up again for another five minutes, waiting for the enemy to return, when you had no response you let it down and quickly went to seek Stiles.
He was crouched behind Roscoe, shaking only slightly with adrenaline and a twinge of excitement. When he heard you call his name he stood up, spooking you accidentally by popping into your line of sight so suddenly.
"Are you ok?" You rushed to as a question before he asked the inevitable one of 'what the fuck is going on?'.
"I'm fine. Are you ok?" His hands were roaming your body, checking for injuries of any kind as he patted down your arms and tilted your head up to look underneath your jaw. You nodded, putting his fretting on pause for now.
"Now you're definitely coming with me." His words were surprising, he didn't even ask what you were or what you did, although knowing a werewolf will do that to you, you supposed. You drove in silence for about three minutes before you couldn't take it anymore, the lack of noise made you want to explode.
"Stiles where are you taking me?" He shook his head and made a zipping motion on his lips, signaling that he wasn't going to give you any information. He was shaking, buzzing with the need to tell you that he was taking you to his pack because that's what he does when these kinds of things happen, but he refrained from it because he knew his chances of actually getting you there would deplete greatly if he gave you even a hint of his plan.
"So, nice car..." He hummed in response, biting his tongue so he wouldn't spoil his mission. You frowned at the lack of communication and slumped back in your seat, head turned to watch as the city scenery whizzed past you.
When the ride was finally over you found yourself in front of an old townhouse, shut off and condemned what you were sure was 100 years ago. Its front was covered in ivy, the windows blocked from the flora that had conquered the structure. One step to the door was broken, the wood split straight through due to some unlucky bastard's step.
"Stiles where are we?" You asked as he opened your door for you, grabbing your hand immediately once you stepped out so you wouldn't escape. Stiles opted to ignore your question entirely and instead led you towards the door of the ancient home, and into its rickety structure. The halls were dark but he managed to sift his way through, muscle memory guiding him, and effectively you as well, towards the door that led to the basement.
He held your hand down the stairs before knocking on yet another door, this time metal, in the basement. When the door opened you had to adjust to the flash of light, taking his opportunity Stiles quickly dragged you into the middle of the pack meeting, standing next to you in the center of the circle.
"Y/n meet my pack, pack meet Y/n." His introduction was vague, but in his defense he was still shaken up by almost being smashed by a vine. Scott was beyond shocked when he saw you standing in the middle of the circle, and you gave him a sheepish wave, one hand still death gripping Stiles'.
"What is she doing here?" Derek cried out, standing to assess your threat level. Stiles pressed a hand to the older man's chest, pushing him away lightly to protect you, even if Derek could overpower him in less than a minute flat. Taking the hint the elder werewolf sat down next to Issac, who was, as usual, wearing his classic scarf and leather jacket.
"Well we were just attacked-"
"Attacked? Oh my god are you ok?" Allison jumped right into nurse mode cutting off Stiles completely, immediately getting up and scanning you for bruises, foregoing an introduction, before moving on to Stiles who waved her off animately.
"Yeah we are, but that's because Y/n did this whole forcefield thing and she told me to duck so I didn't see it but she sliced the vine and it was kind of awesome." Stiles' rambling brought the whole pack up to speed while you stood in the middle of all of them, looking understandably nervous. Your eyes kept flitting from Scott to Stiles, the only two people in the room you knew whatsoever.
"So, what are you?" A ginger spoke up from her perch on a bookshelf, eyes coming to meet yours with a look that screamed that she was on the defensive, despite not having been attacked.
"I'm a witch. I'm assuming that you're all werewolves?" You scanned the eyes of the participants, trying to catch sight of a glint in one of their eyes. When you saw none you internally shrugged before returning your attention to the group before you.
"Can I sit down now or do I have to stand like an exhibit this whole time?" Your nerves didn't stop your annoyance at the situation, you never liked being the center of attention. Stiles squished himself into the side of a chair, patting the spot next to him. You looked around the room trying to find another option, not that you didn't want to sit in his lap, you wanted to sit in his lap doing so many things, you just didn't want it to be weird. Upon seeing no other option you squeezed yourself in next to Stiles, who looked generally very happy considering an arm rest was most certainly digging into his ribcage.
"We're not all werewolves, I'm a banshee and Kira," The ginger pointed to an asian girl sitting next to another girl who looked amazingly uninterested at the entire event.
"Is a kitsune." Kira waved at you, smiling brightly and nudging the girl next to her so she would pay more attention.
"I'm Malia, and a were-coyote. Everyone else is a were-wolf though you're right." She went back to scrolling through her phone and disengaging from the conversation. You took in the information around you, nodding and trying to remember the names that were given. Stiles put his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to lean into him for a source of comfort.
"Well, anyways, we were just talking about the deaths that have been happening on campus and-"
"Are we seriously just going to ignore the fact that a witch just walked into our pack meeting? Is that something I'm supposed to not comment on?" A younger boy sitting on the couch spouted off and you snorted at his words. You were starting to like some of the people here, even if you didn't know their names.
"Hey kid," The boy stared at you before pointing at himself to confirm and you nodded your head.
"What's your name?" He made a vindictive gesture towards you before answering.
"Thank you! That's the kind of thing you do when you meet new people. My name is Liam, this is Derek because he won't tell you his name otherwise, he's moody." Liam pointed a thumb in the direction of the man next to him on the couch who was scowling at his words.
"The banshee is Lydia, and the guy who wears scarves all the time is Issac. Oh, and that's Scott's girlfriend Allison, she's not a were-wolf either she's human like Stiles." After listing off the names of several pack members he sat back in the couch triumphantly, looking over at everyone to see what they planned on doing.
"As I was saying, we just went over the attacks happening on, and apparently off, campus. Do you think this is magic Y/n?" You were pulled out of your head by Scott's question and you shook your head briefly before answering.
"I don't know what else it would be but I can't be sure. I've never heard of a spell or power that makes someone a killer out of nowhere." Your magical knowledge was limited to self defense mostly, something you picked up and perfected back in your hometown. You also had a significant extent of offensive knowledge which you picked up from watching other witches' attacks on you, but it was mostly theoretical.
The room feel quiet and the air became tense as everyone else looked at one another, like there was a joke you weren't in on. Finally Kira broke the silence.
"I don't want to bring this up as much as you don't but we all know this reminds us of the nogitsune." The room fell silent again and you tried to search through your brain for any knowledge you'd have on the unfamiliar word. When you came up empty you sighed, Stiles taking note and looking to see if you were ok.
"Sorry to be so out of the loop but, what's a nogitsune?" This time there was a collective sigh as they all looked at Stiles, waiting for him to explain as much as he wanted about his past with Void.
"It's a spirit, it feeds off of pain. It's immortal unless you kill it, which we did, and it can possess people. When we dealt with it last time it ended up killing a lot of people-"
"It almost killed me." Allison interrupted, clutching her stomach where you assumed there was a nasty scar commemorating the encounter.
"It ended up killing a lot of people with a sword, kind of like with these last few attacks." He finished, looking away and purposely avoiding eye contact as he said it.
"What are you not telling me?" With potential murderers on the loose you had no time for bullshit, and you knew that whatever Stiles said wouldn't phase you, not after tonight.
"It can possess people..." There was dead silence as everyone waited for Stiles to continue.
"It possessed me, and then it looked like me. It did a lot of things with me, it's a long story but that's kinda the gist of it at least." He looked deflated to be bringing up his past and you wrapped an arm around his back in support, rubbing his arm to comfort him and show him that you weren't upset. He turns to you with a hesitant smile, happily surprised at your lack of fear like you weren't just told that at one point a murderous spirit had possessed him.
"Ok, so the nogitsune sounds like our culprit but you killed it. So, what's up with that?" You heard Lydia mutter something about you being obvious and you chose to ignore it in favor of looking around the room to gauge their reactions to your question. The only one who looked slightly worried was Kira, so naturally you asked her your next question.
"Are you sure you guys killed it?" You were directing the question at Kira and she stiffened upon hearing it, sitting up straight as a board.
"Yes we are. Can we move on now?"
"I mean..." Everyone was once again quiet as Kira spoke up, voicing her opinion on the dark version of the spirit that she had.
"We don't know if it's dead. You can't really know, but we did a pretty good job and I don't think it'd have enough power to come back so soon. Again though, I can't be sure." Upon her information Scott stood up, collectively grabbing everyone's attention.
"Ok, does everyone have all their theories out?"
"What about voodoo?" Liam piped up while Scott muttered something that sounded like 'evidently not'.
"Vodou can't do that. Spirit possession isn't evil in Vodou, and actual Vodou dolls can't control people, especially not ones that're alive. I would say maybe it's a zombi but again, the perpetrators were living when it happened. Besides, there's no reason a Vodou practitioner good enough to pull this off would have any interest in murder, they have enough to deal with. Vodou is a practice, not the supernatural." While his idea was deflated Liam looked content with your answer and was prepared to listen to Scott, finally.
"Ok so for theories we have, nogitsune, and witch. Any other suggestions?" Scott gave the room a minute to start talking before he moved on, tired and wanting to get some sleep before the sunrise which was only in a few hours.
"Ok, Kira can you find all that old research we did on the nogitsune? Allison go back to Beacon Hills with Derek and Liam and look through the bestiary to see if we can get any information on witches-"
"Hey!" You interrupted, loudly proclaiming your lack of involvement in witch-related studies.
"Witches who want to kill people Y/n, not you. I think our best bet is the witch idea, unless it's something new entirely, then we'd be..."
"Fucked?" Isaac finished Scott's sentence for him, the action making Scott roll his eyes before returning to his speech.
"Alright, everyone be on the lookout ok? We're done here, let's go home everyone." Allison stood up from behind him as he finished, hands still intertwined. You got the feeling that Allison and Scott wouldn't be very vigilant tonight.
"So, home?" Stiles stood next to you after you both managed to maneuver out of the chair. You nodded and went with him out to the jeep, the night air making you freeze. You shivered when your back touched his car seats and he frowned, reaching behind him to feel around his back seat.
"Should I ask what you're doing?" You chuckled, arms wrapping around yourself to conserve body heat. Stiles triumphantly pulled a large piece of clothing out from his backseat making a victorious noise as he did so before handing it to you. Upon further inspection you realized that it was a hoodie and you thanked him while putting it on. It was big on you, the sleeves coming down over your hands to make little sweater paws and Stiles almost cooed at seeing how cute you looked. You tucked the hood under your head to serve as a neck rest and you closed your eyes as Stiles drove off to the address you listed.
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