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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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Back to the 118 // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Buck meets the firefighter he replaced as the reader transfers back to the 118. The reader never expected to fall for a co-worker the first day back at the 118 after two years spent at the 155 in Los Feliz.

Warnings: Swearing, sickness, hospitals, health issues, pregnancy, angst and a shit ton of fluff

Words: 5.9k

A/N: So this is obviously a modern au for jatp to fit in the 911 universe. To make this work, Buck replaced Reader instead of Tommy after many failed probies. Eddie then later replaced Tommy.

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Masterlist

Your e/c eyes scanned the outward appearance of the first firehouse you’d worked at fresh out of the Academy. The place that had become a second home from the increased tension-filled house your parents still lived in. A place you had escaped as quickly as you could for a dream career. A career your parents hadn’t been proud of in the beginning, with the danger that came with being a firefighter paramedic.

“You the new recruit?”

Your eyes fell from the building to the male individual standing near the open bay the engine and ladder truck both used. The male in question must have joined the 118 after you transferred to the 155. The stranger towered at least six feet minimum with blue eyes and short blonde hair with the slightest wave.

“No-”

“Flint!” The excited voice of the only other female paramedic called out. You only saw dark navy before you were pretty much tackled.

Hen and Chimney had equally taken you under their wings when you initially joined as a rookie. You’d been the second female firefighter-paramedic at the 118 and the youngest by far. As if you’d summoned him, you felt the arms of Chimney sandwich you against Hen.

“Flint?” The stranger parroted, blinking his eyes at the rather unusual scene of Chimney and Hen wrapped around an unknown girl.

“What are you doing here?” Chimney questioned, stepping back. Hen scoured your entire form for any differences that had occurred.

“Y/N decided to come home,” Bobby spoke from a few feet behind the reunion with the beaming smile on his features. His lips pulled into a smile directed at the first recruit he’d taken on his first year at the 118.

“Bobby!” You grinned, meeting the father figure in the middle of the distance between you two. Bobby wrapped you up in his arms tightly, a certain lightness cocooning the Captain as he took in his friends.

“You’re back here?”

“Everything is squared back at home now, thankfully, and while I loved working with the 155, it wasn’t home. This will always be home.”

“Buck, this is Y/N Patterson. She worked her first two years with the 118 before transferring to the 155 in Los Feliz. Y/N, this is one of our newest members, Evan Buckley.” Bobby gestured towards the previously nameless firefighter.

“Who would leave the 118?” Buck questioned, unable to come up with a valid reason to leave the family at 118.

Buck’s opinion didn’t stand with his only workplace after successfully becoming a firefighter solely was the 118. Never had he worked in another firehouse. He’d been a fire marshall and volunteered his time in the Austin wildfire, but he always came home to the 118.

“Family issues.”

2018, Firehouse 118, Los Angeles

A fresh-faced, albeit dirty from sweat and soot, jumped down from the engine truck’s high steps. The synchronized slam of doors sounded from your colleagues and friends Hen and Chimney. All three individuals famished for the casserole Bobby had premade during the slow morning.

“Baked Mac n’ Cheese.” Tommy breathed from his position by the driver side. Tommy Kinard was a stoic man towering over six feet. He was always a gentle giant after you’d bonded after a hard call.

“Clean up, and I’ll have it in the oven. It’s Chimney’s time to make the salad and Flint’s turn to set the table.” Bobby spoke with barely a glance to the ground ahead of him.

Your Captain jogged towards the stairs, whereas his team made their way to the locker rooms for a well-deserved shower. You and Hen split away from Tommy and Chimney to the women’s locker room that had gotten an upgrade.

Well, before you joined the Academy, the locker room had been used as a glorified game room, all thanks to the misogynist Captain from hell. Hen often had over the years mentioned how lucky you got with Bobby being your first Captain.

“Chimney better not put those onions like he did last time.” You spoke from under the stream of warm water. Nothing beat the warmth of a shower near the end of your shift erasing the evidence of your job.

“Man needs to learn the complimentary salad to the main dish.” Hen piped up from across the shower room.

You and Hen had both showered and redressed in a fresh uniform in under five minutes, the dirty one placed in a laundry bag. You’d managed to beat the boys to the upstairs by a few seconds. Enough to set half of the able before Chimney began to making his salad of choice.

“Looks great, Cap.” Tommy complimented the gooey homemade pasta Bobby religious made every third Thursday. He alternated between pasta recipes with the odd new recipe every once in a while.

“What are you waiting for? The bell?” Bobby quipped to the unmoving bunch of hungry individuals. His words started the boisterous meal time preceding the end of shift.

“So, we’re halfway through dinner and Amber-” Your phone interrupted the disaster date Tommy had begun telling. He continued as soon as you waved him to go ahead while you took the call.

“Hello?” You breathed into the phone.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The warmth infused in your mom’s voice soothed the ruffled feathers from the call you’d come back from, “How are you?”

“I’m good! We just finished eating. My shift is almost over, and I’ll have to go straight to the store for groceries-”

“Y/N, we found him.”

The him was easy to figure out given your brother had run away from home three months prior with only his dreams in mind. You’d spent most of your off time, sometimes even during shift out on a call, to scan the environment for Luke. You became a regular in questioning hospitals and homeless shelters.

“Where was he?”

“His band had been about to play at some big venue last night.” Mom’s word choice concerned you. Her voice dripped with sadness instead of the typical disappointment and annoyance on anything to do with Sunset Curve.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“A few nights ago, the boys got hotdogs-”

“Streetdogs.” You interrupted with evident anger in your tone at the mention of those death dogs Luke consumed. You can’t even give a number to how many times you had told him how unsanitary and dangerous the food is.

“Something was wrong with the food. They got ill fast. Alex and Reggie are being kept for observation but will be found with a few days of rest.”

“What about Luke?”

“He tried to call 911; he was weak and fell. Y/N, he hit his head. He’s in the ICU in a coma.” Emily Patterson’s voice cracked as soon as she acknowledged the current state of her youngest child.

The colours of the world dulled as soon as your mind clicked that Luke was in the hospital. Your little brother had put himself in danger all because he had a big dream. Your mind flashed through your life growing up with him.

You remembered talking to your mom’s growing bump when she was pregnant with Luke. You remembered five-year-old Luke unable to settle unless you sang to him. Your voice was nothing special, but it soothed the little boy when he had a nightmare. You could vividly recall teaching Luke how to play the guitar when he was thirteen; the brunette a complete natural at it.

“What’s his prognosis?”

“Too early to tell. The doctor is hoping Luke will be in a general room after tomorrow if the swelling goes down. I wanted you to know as soon as possible.”

“How’s Dad?”

Emily hesitated from her position by a hospital bed. Her brown eyes carefully scanning the male sleeping soundly in the bed.

“Mom?”

“Your father had a heart attack last night. That’s why I haven’t been able to tell you sooner. He’s currently sleeping, but he’ll have a barrage of tests later today-”

“I’ll be there as soon as my shif-”

“No. Don’t drop anything. I can keep you up.”

“Excuse my language, but there’s no way in hell I’m staying away from my family. I’ll take a few days off. I’ll see you in a couple hours.” Your thumb tapped the red circle on the bottom of your screen.

The 118 didn’t bother pretending they hadn’t been watching your form during your phone call. Bobby felt like something had drastically changed in a few minutes you’d been busy on the phone.

“Everything okay?” Bobby inquired from his position at the kitchen sink. His hands in the sudsy water to scrub the empty pan.

“My brother and my father are in hospital. I’m gonna need some days off.” You informed your boss with a look of utter defeat coating your expression.

Those few days transitioned to transferring to the closest firehouse to your childhood home and the hospital. The medical bills from both your brother and father had begun to overwhelm your mother with the current single source of income. Emily didn’t ask you for anything, but you started renting the home you’d bought for extra money.

It was a silent agreement that you paid rent as a cover to helping with the bills piling up.

Present Day, Firehouse 118

Buck followed behind the welcoming group to the girl that seemed larger than life. Buck was impressed by the sacrifice you’d made for the good of your family. You’d willingly given up the family of the 118. Buck didn’t know if he could do the same.

“Welcome back.” Hen cheered on her guidance to the heaven everyone called the kitchen. Your department issue duffle bag dropped out of the wall on the top level.

Your eyes zeroed in on the spread of your favourite foods prepared by the only person aware of your return. It was only one look of gratitude towards the father figure before everyone dug in.

A few changes had occurred since you’d last sat at this table. Tommy Kinard had left the 118 for the 217 shortly after your departure. He’d been replaced by the ready to impress Buck. One thing that hadn’t changed was the delicious food Bobby made.

Your eyes found the sole empty chair at the long table, “Didn’t you say the house took on two new recruits since I left?��

“Buck took your position when you left. We had a revolving door of firefighters before Buck permanently joined.” Chimney supplied with a mouth full of lettuce and grated carrot. Hen whacked his arm for his lack of manners.

“You’ll meet Eddie on the next shift. He took the day off. It’s his son’s first birthday since his mom died.” Bobby informed you with that pinched wrinkle between his eyebrows, “He joined after Tommy left.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet the entire team.” You replied, looking past to the circular table behind Bobby’s spot. Sam and Ryan both waved happily upon catching sight of you back at your unspoken seat.

You listened intently as Hen shared the changes Denny had gone through in the time you’d been away. Chimney was ecstatic to point out the faint scar on his forehead.

“You had rebar go through your skull, and you’re completely fine?” You questioned, floored by the pure luck Chimney had.

“Oh, it was nasty. Went in from the back of the skull to the front.” Buck spoke enthusiastically, recounting the scene. Chimney deadpanned a look at his younger coworker, “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s like you never had it happen.”

“Doc was shocked at how positive the outcome and healing was. I was back at work within a month on light duty. I beat my record getting in my turnout gear.”

“And yet my little brother was comatose for two months.” You grumbled under your breath. None of the people could make out the words, but the grimace on your face was enough to show them it was personal.

In true 118 fashion, the bell rang throughout the firehouse with the disembodied voice declaring the type and location. Yoru e/c eyes found Buck climbing into the driver’s seat where Tommy had once commandeered. It was odd not having the man who’d became an older brother to you.

“How’re your parents?” Hen questioned, sitting diagonally from you. Her fingers repositioning the radio on her chest.

“Dad’s recovering pretty good. Mom’s started attending her knitting club again.”

Buck’s eyes raised to the rearview mirror to meet yours in interest, “What happened?”

“Uh...my dad had a heart attack a couple years ago. He took a long time to recover with the further stress that caused it.” You piped up, understanding the news would come out at some point, “My little brother was in an accident that left him in a coma. Life was just as messy after he woke up.”

“He’s okay?” Chimney questioned, “I know we’ve never met them, but it really gutted you.”

“Well, physically, he’s fine, but emotionally he’s upset. He was in a band, and when he came out of the coma, he found out some devastating news.” You continued to explain, but unfortunately, or maybe, fortunately, you’d come to the scene.

It was a little known place most teenagers discovered as a hang out spot just on the edge between your county and the next. The location was the infamous spot of cliff jumping; you knew because this was something you’d recklessly done in high school.

“He’s over here!” A blonde male of average height called from the edge of the cliff. His blue eyes were bright even from this distance, matching the detailing on his swim trunks.

Surrounding the edge with the boy was a group of teenagers his age, all in different versions of swimsuits. You found the scared brown eyes of a beautiful girl you vaguely knew from the few shows of Sunset Curve you had watched. Her dark blonde hair plaited out of her face. Her face clicked as Carrie Wilson, Bobby’s sister or cousin.

You jogged towards the edge of the cliff to look over. It was easily between fifteen to twenty feet from the edge of the cliff to the water. You recognized Hen crouching by your side, looking at what you were looking at.

On the rocks was a prone body of a teenage male with bruises already forming on his face from where you could see. His thick shoulder-length hair laid still half in the ponytail and around his head.

“Head trauma.” You murmured to Hen, scanning from a distance, “I can’t tell much from this height and angle.”

“Either a broken tibia or fibula. Spinal injury is definitely a concern.”

“Okay, his name is Willie Young. He’s eighteen years old. His sister Kayla was dared to jump off by doing some kind of flip. Willie took her dare and didn’t jump far enough or tripped over a rock.” Bobby listed having been talking with the group of teenagers all shook up.

“I can rappel-” Buck began to speak before you cut him off firmly.

“It would take too long, and the angle is difficult. Nobody rappels down it; the cliff isn’t stable enough. It crumbles pretty easy, and the unofficial name of this cliff is Devil’s Dive.” Your eyes found Carrie’s tear-filled once and the utter devastation in who you pegged as Kayla.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve jumped off this cliff for years as a teenager. You’re looking at the resident champion of self reckless endangerment at Devil’s Dive.”

Hen, Chimney and Bobby each stared, shocked at your revelation of stupid teenager decisions.

“Then how are we gonna get down there,” Buck questioned, staring at the unconscious teenager lying on the rocks.

“Easy, I can jump from here into the water and climb onto the rocks to where Willie is. I have the experience of how and where to jump safely.” You spoke to your Captain with complete confidence in your abilities, “You can lower down the kit, radio and backboard by a rope. There’s a mansion beyond the trees that you can ask to borrow a boat from the owner. He’s eccentric and questionable but nice enough.”

Bobby nodded his head to your plan. You unbuttoned your uniform shirt to strip down to the department t-shirt with the emblem on your chest and across your back. You kept the boots and emptied your pockets of anything. The butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the height of the cliff you hadn’t jumped from in years.

“I’ll jump where-”

“Excuse me?” You scoffed at Buck’s assumption he could follow you.

“You’ll need another pair of hands to roll him on the backboard. I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home. This is kinda what I do. Bobby cleared it already.” Buck shrugged with a half-smirk on his handsome face.

With a roll of your eyes, you quickly gave Buck a rundown on how to jump correctly before you tossed yourself off the cliff. The cold water momentarily shocked your system as soon you submerged under the water. You swam to the surface before swimming towards the rocks. Willie hadn’t moved an inch.

“Whoa! That was so cool!” Buck cheered once he’d appeared on the surface of the water, “No wonder you used to do that!”

His excitement both annoyed and amused you, “Eh. I was just an idiot kid who thought they were invincible.”

The two firefighters lifted themselves onto the rock formation, where blood stained the rock. While Buck retrieved the backboard and essentials from the rope, your hands moved across Willie’s body, checking for breaks. You caught the c-collar Buck tossed without looking. You quickly but gently put the collar on Willie.

“Hi, Willie. My name is Y/N, and I’m a paramedic. I’m gonna check you over for injuries.” You informed the teenager closely. You’d only just opened his eyes to flash a light on them, “Buck let Bobby know Willie’s pupils are reactive to light and the same size.”

“Got it!” Buck called out from the open medkit, “I’ll splint his leg.”

“W-what happened?” Willie wheezed sluggishly. His brown eyes were unfocused.

“You got hurt trying to jump off the cliff. You’re in good hands, Willie. I’m a paramedic with the Los Angeles Fire Department. This is my coworker Buck.”

“Kayla?”

“Perfectly safe, but you did give her a scare. Willie, can you feel this?” Buck questioned, gently touching his right foot. Buck and you both gave a sigh of relief as Willie confirmed he felt it.

“Okay, we’re gonna roll you on to the backboard. On three: one, two, three.” You counted before rolling Willie on his side with Buck. Willie’s cry echoed around the surrounding as you settled him on the board.

“Need a ride?” Chimney asked as a very nice boat floated towards the three people on the rocks. Hen and Bobby helped load Willie onto the boat, “Mr. Covington agreed to let us use the boat if we don’t get blood on the seats.”

“Can you call my boyfriend?” Willie sluggishly asked when he was loaded into the ambulance on the cliff. Kayla sliding into the seat in the back of the ambulance with their items.

“Alex is meeting us at the hospital.” Kayla told her older brother, “You absolute idiot! You should have just let me jump!”

“And let you be in the back of the ambulance? Dad would kill me if I had let you do it.” Willie scoffed. Their conversation was silent as Chimney and Buck closed the back doors of the ambulance.

Bobby, Buck and you climbed into the fire truck to follow the ambulance to the closest hospital. Hen and Chimney rolled the gurney to the doors with Kayla hot on their heels. You’d just turned to head back to the truck when you saw three teens loitering near the entrance.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled, marching away from Bobby and Buck to the teen who was supposed to be in class.

Luke had been forced into private tutoring to catch up to his friends in his grades, meaning every afternoon. The watch on your wrist confirmed Luke was definitely supposed to be with his tutor at the community centre.

“Luke!” You shouted, stomping right up to the wide-eyed teen.

Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his older intimidating sister caught him like his hand was in the cookie jar. You didn’t give Reggie or Alex a second look while you gripped Luke’s ear to tug him away.

“Ow!” Luke whined from the angle you dragged him at.

“What the hell are you doing across the city? You’re supposed to be in your session that our parents are paying a great deal for.” You snapped, crossing your arms in your wet t-shirt.

“We need every chance we can to-”

“Make it big in the industry.” You parroted the past discussions on Luke’s dream as a band, “Do you remember how I got mom and dad off your back? An agreement that you finish high school on time. Not dropping out.”

“So many musicians have dropped out! Green Day’s frontman dropped out his senior year to focus on the band. Several others like Elton John and Kurt Cobain!” Luke enthused, gesturing with his hand to emphasize his words.

“Luke.” You warned, “It’s either catch by with a tutor with some time dedicated to your band, or it’s a military school.”

Luke’s hazel eyes minimally widened, “They would-”

Your stoic expression stayed the same as the energetic seventeen-year-old bounced in his spot across from you.

“There’s only so much I can do before you lose everything. I know you feel anxious after what all happened, but music isn’t going anywhere.” You reached to squeeze Luke’s hand in yours, “So, I’ll clear it with my boss to have you ride the bus to the station. You’ll have your tutor sessions with my supervision, so I know you’re attending.”

“Y/N!” Bobby called from next to the firetruck, “We gotta go.”

“I’m guessing the Alex that Willie is dating your best friend?” You questioned with one raised eyebrow. Luke nodded in response, “Let mom know you had to be there for Alex. She’ll let skipping your session go this once.”

“Thanks!” Luke chimed, lunging to hug you. Your mouth barely opened before he was racing towards a jittery Alex and a grinning Reggie.

Reggie lifted his arm to wave with his flushed cheeks a darker red colour. You found Reggie’s crush on you to be absolutely adorable. He was a friendly kid.

“He looks good for a kid who was in a coma not long ago.” Hen breathed as the teenager entered the ER with his best friends beside him.

“Oh, he healed quickly. He was crushed after he fully recovered from his head injury.”

“That was your brother?” Buck inquired, and he was just as focused on your features as he had since he first met you.

“Yeah! He was in a coma for ten months when he was sixteen. He’s spent the last two years catching on on school to graduate with his friends. Well hopefully. He’s dead set on dropping out.” You heavily sighed, leaning your temple on the glass window, “He was supposed to be at a tutoring session. I’ll be chaperoning to make sure he goes.”

“If you need to have them at the station, send me a schedule, and I’ll make it work. Luke’s just as much family as you are.”

The rest of the shift was smooth sailing as Buck followed you around with the sole purpose of getting to know you. The friendship came naturally to the two of you. He didn’t hold back with you like he did with others. Fridays off became hangouts that varied from just Buck and you to spend it with Eddie and Christopher.

Everyone could see Buck had developed feelings for you and vice versa. Unlike the man Buck used to be, he was cautious. He wanted to do this right. And Buck did. With the help of Christopher, he asked you out.

Months Later

Buck’s eyes fluttered open in the dim lighting of your new home’s bedroom he often found himself in. Before, you had alternated staying at his apartment or yours before a significant change happened. Luke moved in to finish his senior year with the help of your tutoring, as agreed with your parents. That led to you giving up your former home, the one that coincidentally Buck’s sister Maddie had rented from you.

“Luke! You better be awake!” Your voice came from the main floor of the home. Your voice alone seduced the firefight to leave the warm sheets.

His bare feet pattered down the hardwood floor stairs into the kitchen coated in all different kinds of breakfast food. Waffles to imported maple syrup to bacon spread across the counter.

“Morning,” Buck grumbled, stepping up behind you to tug you against his chest.

Unlike Buck’s softer footsteps, your little brother tore down the stairs like a stampede of elephants. Luke wore a vintage band shirt modified sleeveless; you’d be getting a voicemail about dress code violations. The chains hanging off his black jeans.

“You have to hurry, Lu. Buck and I can’t be late. He needs to get to his apart-”

“I don’t see why he doesn’t just move in. He’s here almost every night. He helps buy groceries.” Luke’s hazel eyes stared at the plate he towered food on.

Buck raised one eyebrow in response, “You just moved in. You should be settled before we make-”

“Dude. Your lease is up in like a month; just move in already. No feathers will be ruffled. Besides, the band’s taking off now that Nick got his dad Ryan to check our music out.” Luke sprouted with a beaming smile at the good news his new band received.

After Luke had recovered from that coma, he’d woken up in a world where Alex, Reggie and Bobby, no Trevor, now continued the band. Then when Alex and Reggie couldn’t go on, the rhythm guitarist betrayed Luke. He stole every song he could get his hands on and proved successful.

“Ryan Evans, right? His sister’s some bigshot on Broadway? Sharpay, right?” You questioned recalling in the early 2000s the success of Sharpay and Ryan in some kind of Disney films based on them.

“You’re about to be the sister and brother-in-law of a certified rockstar.” Luke’s attempt at smirking made him look like a chipmunk with full cheeks of food, “I don’t need a ride. Alex’s picking me up.”

“Straight to school, Luke. You’ve got two weeks left before you can leave that behind.” Buck pointed his coffee cup in the direction of the passionate musician. Luke returned a smile of acknowledgement.

The kitchen was quiet as Luke shoved as much food in his mouth in such little time while you watched. In a flash, he’d stuck his dishes in the dishwasher before sprinting out to the van beeping continuously.

“Think we can have you moved in by tomorrow? Your one-bedroom place will be a little cramped for five people.” You simply spoke as you rinsed your coffee cup out. You could hear the wheels in Buck’s brain turning as he thought.

“Five people?”

“Yeah. Luke, Albert, me, you and baby Buckley.”

The entire home went completely still as the announcement bled into the house you’d made a home. One hand resting against the smoothness of your belly. That hand covered by the calloused one of Buck’s. His blue eyes gleaming in utter adoration and excitement.

“Baby Buckley?” Buck marvelled, turning you to face him with tears running down your cheeks, “You’re pregnant?”

“I am. I guess we’re giving Maddie’s daughter a cousin.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Now I’m obligated to see your parents regularly, and I still grimace at the first introduction.” Buck winced, recalling the foot in mouth syndrome he’d developed.

Buck had never been as nervous as in this moment. Not when he had to tell his parents the first time he got kicked out of college. Or when his teenage self sat beside one of his flings waiting for the results of a pregnancy test. Not even on his first date with Abby.

“You’ll be fine.” You soothed the anxious man standing by your side on the doorstep of your childhood home. The door opened, revealing Luke standing with a grimace, “Oh Mom, made you wear that.”

Luke had been stuffed into one of the only long-sleeved shirts he owned by your mother. It was a magenta maroon hued corduroy shirt and set off his chocolate hair perfectly. Apparently, your mother hadn’t been able to get him into a pair of pants that weren’t skinny, black or ripped.

“We’re meeting your boyfriend, not the damn Pope-”

“You wouldn’t be wearing that if the Pope was involved.” You retorted, stepping to tug the younger Patterson into your arms. The only thing you adored about your little brother was he never denied a hug. Physical touch is his love language, so he never went through a phase.

“Lucas, don’t let them freeze on the front porch!” Emily shouted from within the Patterson home. Luke rolled his eyes at his mother’s request.

“Luke, this is my boyfriend, Evan Buckley. Buck, this is my not so little brother Luke.” You swiftly introduced the most important males in your life.

Luke and Buck got along better than any previous partner you’d brought home. He got along with your parents really well. Even when he slightly embarrassed himself as the time came to go home, whether it was his place or yours. He kissed your mother’s cheek and shook hands with your father.

“No offence, but thank you for having a heart attack and a coma. If you hadn’t, I’m sure I would have never met Y/N.”

Luke snickered at Buck’s odd choice of words, as did your parents. A part of Buck dreaded the next time he’d see your parents.

The gentle press of lips against your cheek pulled you from your thoughts of the first family dinner. Despite the issues between Luke and your parents, they were great people and parents; Buck had felt like he finally fit in. Even with that awkward thankful he gave your brother and dad, he was family the minute Mitch and Emily saw the mutual looks.

“How are we gonna do this?”

“Well, as the pregnant one, I’ll carry the little Bean until it’s time for them to enter the world. Then we’ll-”

“I get that but with our jobs?”

You felt guilty at the dread of not getting to do what you love, but you were excited, “I’ll keep working as a paramedic. I’ll stay away from fires, and then I’ll go on mat leave. We’ll make this work, Buck.”

Buck leaned down to rest his forehead against yours with his eyes closed, envisioning how life was about to change. Buck adored children. He had loved Christopher from the moment he’d first met him. Buck himself was a kid at heart.

“I didn’t think I could fall more in love, but you continue to surprise me each time,” Buck murmured with that gorgeous smile that utterly melted your heart from the first time you saw it. Back when you tried to deny any feelings beyond friendship.

“We’re so lucky to have you, Evan Buckley.” You breathed as you leaned up to kiss him with as much passion as you could. Although it was mostly clashing of teeth with the matching wide grins on your face.

“This little girl is gonna be a heartbreaker but no boyfriends or girlfriends until they’re thirty.” Buck declared, tugging you into his arms. His blue eyes twinkling in the natural lighting.

“It could be a boy.”

“Or maybe neither. Boy, girl or non-binary, I’ll love them just as much.” Buck spoke once more.

Gideon Buckley was born in the early morning to the pride of his parents and extended family. He was a healthy solid 8 pounds with sparse dark blonde hair and the trademark grey-blue newborn eyes. You everyone but Buck and your surprise Gideon wasn’t alone. Grace Buckley followed her older twin brother eight minutes later.

You rested against the propped up pillows spent from the exhausting hours of labour, but it was worth it. The two tiny babies snuggled beneath the swaddling blanket concealing your bare chest. Skin to skin contact was absolutely the best part of being a parent.

“Did you steal a baby?” Chim joked upon entering the hospital room with Maddie in tow. Right behind them were your parents and Luke.

“I’d like you to meet our twins Gideon and Grace Buckley. Surprise!” Buck quietly cheered in the nearly silent room. Buck’s curated newly parents playlist gently playing in the background.

Mitch and Emily came closer to look at the little loves they proudly got to claim as their first grandchildren. Emily’s heart melted upon hearing Gracie coo in her sleep. Grace and Gideon’s fist pressed against each other.

“Congratulations.” Maddie breathed, bending to catch a peek at the twins’ faces.

“Luke. Would you like to meet your goddaughter and godson?” You questioned the nervous musician. The nineteen-year-old tiptoed his way to the hospital bed.

“I’m both their godfather?” Luke choked as soon as Buck gently transferred Gideon onto his uncle’s chest.

“There’s no one else in the world I’d choose to help guide them in the right direction. You always found your way back onto the right path. You’ll do the same for them.” Buck answered with Gracie nestled on his chest.

Buck was the first to hold them followed by you and then their godfather Luke.

Gid and Gracie, although unseen, had been in Luke’s graduation pictures and watched as Julie and the Phantoms signed with a record label. Where Gid was, Luke wasn’t far beyond; the special bond melted everyone. Likewise with Gracie and Alex.

Gid overall was a happy baby compared to Grace. Loved visiting the firehouse. Loved the people working with their father and previously their mother. For the entire first year of Gideon and Grace’s life, you stayed at home with the utter support of Buck.

“First day back.” Hen spoke from beside you on the bench in the women’s change room. As a fellow mother, she’d been watching your behaviour.

“I miss them. I feel guilty that I abandoned them-”

“Okay, your feelings are valid, but you aren’t abandoning Gideon or Grace. You’re teaching them that you can be a great mom while also being a badass firefighter. I was the same when I went back to work after we got Denny.”

“Do you ever wish you could be a stay at home mom?”

“I love Denny with my entire heart, but I couldn’t do that. I was meant to be a paramedic firefighter as much as Denny’s mother. Besides, I can see Maddie pushing in the double stroller.”

Your head snapped to see your sister in law beaming with the double stroller carrying Gideon and Grace. Maddie’s daughter sitting on the seat made for a toddler. Maddie and Chimney had come to a decision for Maddie to work part-time.

Hen watched as you bounded out of the changeroom in uniform to scoop the twins into your arms. In a split second, Buck was down the stairs cooing at the absolute loves of his life. His partner and two children.

Buck would forever be grateful for finding his way to the 118, where he found his true family. A place of acceptance, love, trust and loyalty. Buck found his place in the world, and that was beside you.

Tag List(s): (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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whataboutmyfries · 3 years ago

Text

summertime sadness

So I've just stumbled across this website and after a few minutes of frantic-ing this was born! absolute brainrot that makes minimal sense but here you are!

(all errors are mine, I was too busy trying to get in as many words as possible to worry about spelling lol)

characters by @lumosinlove!

(written for the prompt hot dog)

Leo huffed in distress as the hot sun bore down on his neck, liquefying the cone of ice cream he was holding in his hand. "Lolo! can we go back? It's hot as balls, I hate it here." Leo moaned, trying to clean up the stick mess dripping over his fingers. Logan bounded over, a bright grin splitting his face, flushed from the heat.

"What's wrong? I got us some hotdogs!" he held up the snack, hot steam wafting from the freshly made food. Leo just groaned, the mere though of eating something that hot making his stomach roll.

"Lo, its 35 degrees. There is no way in hell I'm eating that. Look at my goddamn icecream. Look at it! it's digusting!" Logan looked down at the soupy mess dripping onto the grass and smirked. "You weren't complaining half as much when we did that last night but okay." Leo glared, the sweat dripping off his eyebrow somewhat taking away from the effect. Logan gave him a shit-eating grin leaning down to suck Leo's fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around each individual digit to get the sweet mess off his partner's fingers. Leo groaned, tipping his head back at the sensation of Logan tonguing feverishly at his hands.

Logan laughed around the obstruction in his mouth, only sucking harder as he went. "Tremz, it is way too hot for us to be doing this; besides there's no way I'm having sex with you without atleast two air cons blasting at full strength, i promise you."

Logan looked up at him through his lashes, innocently pulling another finger into his mouth, making Leo fumble to keep his grip on the cone. Just as Leo opened his mouth to retort to that, a soft thud distracted the both of them, and Leo turned to find a hotdog laying in the grass, mayonnaise splattered over Logan's calves. Logan let Leo's fingers fall out of his mouth, looking to his side to the sad sight.

He took one at the mess and burst out laughing, walking over to the table to set the other hot dog down before pulling Leo in for a long kiss. Leo moaned, the taste of icecream on Logan's tongue making him salivate. Logan pulled away with a smug smirk and went over to his food, taking a bite of the remaining hot dog, rolling his eyes expressively as he groaned at the taste.

"Well," He said, through a mouthfull of food, "Atleast you don't have to eat the hot dog anymore?" Leo rolled his eyes, walking back into their kitchen to check on Finn, who'd been fixing up their drinks. "We both know that even if I'd refused to eat it, you would've had it anyway. So who's the real loser here?" Logan huffed affectionately, flipping him off as he took another bite. "You love me and you know it!" Leo laughed, giving Finn a kiss before going over to the sink to wash his hands. "You're a menace!" He called, already dreaming of another cone of ice-cream. Maybe the summer wasn't so bad after all.

#I love this website #be prepared for an influx of absolute bullshit writing similar to this #thanks yall #oknutzy #lumosinlove ocs #this was written in not a lot of time with the prompt hot dog #whataboutmywriting

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misterewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Mystery at the Salt-Irons

Hey everyone! E here with a new chapter! kept you waiting huh? Haha sorry it's been a busy few weeks. Nothing serious but I had to keep starting and stopping this chapter so it threw me off but it's here, it's ready and I hope you enjoy it!

I have some special guests in this story, some ocs made by my friends because you know what I can so I will and honestly, they were really great oc ideas guys. so keep an eye out for @hains-mae and Biz_fantasist OC(I don’t know if she has a tumblr but it’s late so I’ll edit it later)

That's it for me! I hope you are all stay safe, keep your loved ones safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, push to give everyone the vaccine cuz this is getting ridiculous. I hope you have a great week, thank you for reading. I deeply appreciate and feel free to share it with your friends, give me feedback. Reblog and comments all that fun stuff! Thanks and I'll see you soon!

Here’s the chapter over at Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/85394095

Here’s the story from the beginning if you’re curious what this is about

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

and here’s a list of all my work both original and the various fandoms I write for

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/works

Summary: Finnrick is called to solve a mysterious case as per his job as the city's only Private Investigator wizard but as he sinks deeper into the case, the more it seems that something is happening behind the scenes. Of course with an old friend in town and dark magic surrounding the case, Finnrick is as busy as ever. Ain't no rest for the wicked.

-----

The Salt-Iron Flats weren’t anything special on the surface: An unassuming apartment complex on the north side of Newton Haven, the only thing most people remembered about the place was how the price tag hurt their souls.

Of course, unlike the general housing market, the Salt-Irons (affectionately referred to by the locals) actually had a very reasonable reason for fetching such a high rate: The salt and cold iron baked into every single brick that formed the building.

If you weren’t in the magical know, you’d think it utterly insane that you’d be forced to pay such a large amount of cash because some weirdo decided to make a new age artistic statement with bricks. Of course, if you are aware of the greater community at large, you’d knew you were paying the insanely large sum because someone decided to make the Salt-Irons the single most protective location in the city.

Most mortals have forgotten their history, their lore and collective knowledge passed down throughout the generations: Why their ancestors used to place lines of salt in front of the door and windows, why the elders always suggested to the braver, recklessly youthful family members to carry iron whenever they ventured through the wild.

Outer beings were repelled by salt and iron. No one really had an idea why fae, angels and demons weren’t fond of salt or iron and there's been plenty of arguing about the subject but all in all the fact remained they did not do well when faced with either.

That was the main reason Finnrick didn’t find himself in the north side of town often.

Well that and the zealous Gate Keepers. Those guys were freaks but between them and the Salt-Irons being the only supernatural community up here, Finn never got a case from the area.

Until today.

The Salt-Irons were great at protecting you from any outside threats that wished you ill will: It didn’t protect you from anything you decided to bring in with you.

It was five in the morning when Finnrick got the call. The M.R.R.D representative didn’t have much to offer beyond the address and floor but he thanked her all the same.

Finnrick yawned tiredly, stretching the tension out of his neck while he sipped his coffee. He let out a sigh of relief as the sun slowly rose into the sky.

The Salt-Irons was a twelve story tall building painted a ghastly pale green that made Finnrick sick just looking at it.

“People are paying how much to live in that shade? I’d ask for discount if I were them.” Finnrick laughing to himself, making his way into the apartment complex.

Luckily the interior was much nicer than the outside: Everything was well kept and cleaned. Not a single speck of dust in sight and the wooden stairs didn’t creak when Finnrick placed his foot on them.

Which was good given Finnrick needed to go up seven flights of stairs.

Finnrick wheezed a little, wiping the sweat from his brow when he reached the seventh floor. He glanced down the hall one way then the other as he began to search for room 707 which basic deductive reasoning suggested should be around the corner.

Finnrick crushed the empty foam cup and tucked it into his coat pocket as he made his way to 707. It was a simple wooden door and immaculately spotless just like the rest of the place. He rose his hand and gently rapped on the door.

No response.

He frowned, checking if he was still alone in the empty hallway and rose his hand towards the door frame.

His eyes glowed with a blue energy as he whispered softly “Revelis”

The door gleamed with a bluish hue for a moment before fading away without a trace.

No protective spells laced over the frame so the only thing Finn had to worry about now if it was locked.

He tried the knob, unsurprised when it swung open silently.

“It’s not breaking and entering if someone’s expecting you” Finnrick justified to himself as he pushed the door in.

He nearly staggered backwards: The air tasted thick and foul like something had been left rotting inside. His skin prickled with anxiety, a chill running down his spine with each step he took further in.

Finnrick took deep, calming breathes while doing his best to ignore the bitter taste that seem to cling the air within.

He noticed the trail of footsteps, perfectly preserved in what appeared to be black dust leading deeper into the living room.

“Hey da! You here?” Finnrick called out, carefully stepping closer “You and ma still married?”

There was a deep grunt of acknowledgment before a voice responded “Sorry son, we’re divorced now. She got custody of you.”

“Well fuck. I guess I’m going to be eating kale and poorly cooked spinach for the rest of my life.”

Garrus Valka was not in fact Finnrick’s father, adoptive or otherwise. He was actually one of the highest ranked officers of the Magical Rapid Response Department: An elf clocking in at 200 years old with richly tanned skin. His bluish gray hair was slicked back in his preferred style. Garrus’s had his back turned to the detective but Finn knew his sliverish gray eyes were deep in concentration as he took down notes about the surroundings. His beautifully inhuman features were marred with a scar on the right side of his face: burnt skin on his cheek, healed by time and various surgeries. An old war wound though Finn never got the full story.

He was dressed in typical M.R.R.D fashion: Dark blue windbreaker, jeans and a blue shirt with the words “Powered by coffee and spite” splashed across the front. His Winchester rifle was slung across his back, ready for any action that may befall the elf.

“Drift.” Garrus greeted teasingly while offering a hand.

Finnrick gave it a playful shake “Da. So is mom here or she trying to smite pigeons again?”

“THEY TRIED TO STEAL MY HOTDOG!” Garrus’s partner Eden screamed from another room “I SHALL BRING MY GOD’S WRATH UPON THEM!”

“You know when they mean justice.” Finnrick called out “I don’t think they mean against winged rats.”

Eden chuckled darkly “You know not their sins.”

“Okay.” Finnrick nodded despite the fact she couldn’t see him “If you say so. What happened Da? Aside powerful necromancy.”

“Powerful necromancy” Garrus replied cheekily “and missing persons.”

Finnrick rose an eyebrow “Persons? More than one?”

“Two: A father and son. Richard Charles and his son Richard Jr. Recluses it seems. Neighbors hardly saw them. Mostly kept to themselves.”

Finnrick pursed his lips thoughtfully “Any magical abilities?”

“They’re not on records if that’s what you mean.” Garrus answered “Never signed up in the academy, not registered with The Council. If they were practitioners they didn’t tell anyone.”

“So what was the spell? I just smell the remnants of spookiness.”

“Hadn’t noticed the rest of the room huh?”

Finnrick frowned before finally getting a good look at the rest of the room: Every inch of the apartment was blanketed with the same black dust that he found in the entrance way. Inches and inches of the substance and that wasn’t the strangest part.

Everything was bent at different and odd angles: chair with crooked legs, the wall clock warped and twisted, the fridge leaning like someone folded it in half. Floorboard reached for the sky and walls split inward.

There was a common misconception about magic. Most people thought spell casters, especially wizards, could command reality to their wills. That magic was capable of impossible feats and it was as simple as snapping your fingers.

The truth was all magic, ranging from divinity to free range nature, was performed on a micro scale. Practitioners did not alter reality but rather shortcut it. Throwing fireballs was as simple as rapidly heating the air until it combusted. Turning invisible was less about vanishing completely as it was bending the light around you to not be seen. Magic was rooted in reality and imagination. If you had the magical strength to perform the magic, the magic often followed your lead.

Of course there were spells that required much more than magical hand and willpower. Powerful magic, like summoning outer beings or raising an army of zombies, required both time and materials. Magic was like any other energy: you needed enough of it to perform what you wanted. The human body could only generate so much magic without dying and resting was necessary to replace any expended in the use of spells. Materials were guidelines for the spell. Feathers for anything with flight, ash for fireballs etc etc.

The other thing needed was to gather energy and store it for the spell’s use. There were different ways to achieve this: Wands, talismans, potions were basically magic soups. The most efficient way to gather energy was the wizards preferred way: Circles.

Finnrick eyed the room closely this time, murmuring under his breath about angles and trajectory. Garrus paid him no mind, well familiar with the private investigators methods.

“If this went like that” he gestured to the wall clock “and that went here.”

Finnrick glanced about, carefully walking about as if worried he was going to step on a landmine.

“Here.” Finnrick found himself staring at a spot in the middle of the room “Ventus.”

He gestured with a hand and light breeze filled the room. It brushed away some of the dust covering floor, revealing the outline of a half melted metal ring.

“What is it?” Garrus turned curiously

“Spell circle. The source of the explosion. I’m willing to bet it’s custom made. Copper, steel. Maybe some bits of tin couldn’t stand the surge.”

“No iron or sliver?”

Finnrick shook his head “That’s for containing or repelling monsters. Necromancy is more about drawing in the evil entities. Or sucking out life.”

Garrus sighed tiredly “Don’t touch?”

“Only if you want to live to see retirement. Might have some pent up magic ready to blow outwards.”

“Understood. I’ll call in our guys. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

Finn nodded gratefully while pulling out a vial and motioning to the elf “Mind if I do?”

“Be my guest, you might find something we’d miss.”

Finnrick smiled gratefully before scooping up some of the dust and sealing it within the vial.

“Take care Garrus, stop fighting birds Ma!”

“Flying rats!”

-----

The cafe was lively despite being early but that was no surprise given it was Mother’s. Mother’s was the single best food establishment in all Newton Haven and if anyone disagreed, they were allowed to have their opinions.

They were also allowed to be wrong.

Finnrick paused in the doorway, breathing in the scent of well cooked eggs and sweet lemonade. The pop and sizzle of heated grease brought a sense of comfort to the hard working private investigator.

“Finny Drift!” Maddie Copperstone called from behind the counter “How’s my favorite customer holding up?”

Maddie was 40 years young with tastefully curled dark brown hair. Human, little on the short side but fierce. She wore a simple red blouse and jeans, both stained with flour that the apron around her waist did not prevent.

Finnrick bounced over cheerfully, reaching over the counter to give the matron the biggest hug he could muster “I’m good Maddie. Working a case.”

Maddie’s brown eyes searched his face carefully “You always working Finny. You resting as much?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Maddie let out a disbelieving chuckle “You weren’t ever a Scout.”

“Honorary scout after I stopped that bear from eating them.”

“Thought it was a giant raccoon.”

“Yes but people don’t take giant raccoon seriously. He here?”

Maddie clicked her tongue disappointingly but motioned to the booth at the far end of the establishment “Rest.”

Finnrick rose his hand in surrender “After.”

“Never you mean!” Maddie shouted after him.

Amos Frye hadn’t changed much since last he was roaming around Finnrick’s neck of the woods: Handsome with soft gray eyes that reminded Finn of gathering storm clouds. His long black hair was tied in a messy bun held up by a golden pin, a braided strand hung loosely near his face. His beard was much shorter than what Finnrick remembered though he noted the unkempt split ends indicated that Amos hadn’t trimmed it in a few weeks. His iconic dark red sleeveless jerkin and black jean combination would look ridiculous on a lesser man but had allowed the monster hunter to show off his muscular frame. His brown skin was a bit more pale than usual so no doubt Amos had been operating at night lately.

“Finnrick, you cheeky bastard! I am so glad you came!” Amos beamed happily, his various bangles and bracelets clinking together in equally joyous celebration as the two shook hands.

“Amos! Happy to see you.” Finn beamed brightly as he slid into the booth across his old friend “Why though? Family trouble?”

Amos’s joyfully gleam turned dark for a moment.

“No. Have you…?”

Finnrick shook his head quickly “Not a word. Sorry, I hadn’t meant to…”

Amos waved the apology away “No worries cuz. I understand why you’d think that. Coming across the pond isn’t a spur of the moment thing and Os has always been the black sheep of the family. I suppose no news is good news.”

“Right.” Finnrick cleared his throat awkwardly “So what’s the trouble? I doubt you’d call me up for a nip and chat.”

“Rightly so.” Amos confirmed, reaching into the bag at his side and pulling out a folder “Hunting business as usual cuz.”

That made sense: Amos was the latest of a long family whose specialized business was monster hunting. The Fryes had been striking at things that went bump in the night for centuries ever since the first Frye defended the folk of some underground society.

Amos was an average wizard if Finnrick was being generous. That was not a slight against his old friend, it was a matter of fact: Amos spent most of his time honing the physical aspects of his profession which was obvious given the size of his arms. Any spells he knew were purely for defensive or preventive measures so he often communicated with Finnrick for higher quality and complex spellwork.

Finnrick took the folder from Amos and began pouring over its contents.

Most were quickly scrawled notes Amos had noticed about his quarry: Long sliver hairs, canine in nature. Large paw prints found in the areas it had been sighted, far too big to any natural wolf. Wulfvur and werewolf were hastily written and as quickly crossed out. A pattern of hanging out in wild areas, often forests and swamps.

There were pictures too: flashes of sliver, blurs of fangs and muzzles darting in and out of camera frame. It was always a distance away, sprinting deeper into the wildness. It was hard to tell from the photos but Finn guessed it might’ve been 10 feet tall at the very least.

“Why we hunting wolves now?” Finnrick asked curiously.

Amos flagged down the waitress “Contract given to my pa. It was hanging around the marsh lands of the jolly old isles. Someone wanted it gone.”

Something wasn’t clicking with Finn “and you followed it here? From England?”

“Nah cuz” Amos gave a cheeky grin “I tackled it through a portal and found I illegally crossed into America.”

“Ah.” Finnrick nodded in understanding “Fae.”

“Fae?” Amos frowned thoughtfully “I thought that too but I never heard of any snarling wolfie breaking into homes and snatching out wee younglings in them old folktales.”

“Fae are weird.” Finnrick shrugged “Their whole shtick is not making any sense. I had to expel a cat the size of a bus once. Double decker tall.”

Amos whistled in appreciation as he scratched his bread “So fae. Slippy fellow as you can tell. Whatcha recommend?”

“What’s the contract?”

“Banishment. It’s looking like wolfie ended up in the wrong part of town.”

“I think you mean next town over. Fixed a pattern yet?”

“Not yet but I wasn’t looking for one.” Amos admitted “Thought I was tracking some mutant. Fae changes a lot. Magical circles?”

“Easiest way to catch it.” Finnrick agreed “Sliver for sure. Iron would hurt it and based on your files, it hasn’t done anything than thin the local wildlife population. No need to anger mister big bad wolf.”

“Good call. I got some talent to handle a few circles but tracking is not really my speed.”

“I’m on a case but if you swing by the M.R.R.D, maybe they’ll loan you a wizard.”

Amos let out a disappointed sigh “I need to take care this sometime this year Finny. Bloody bureaucracy probably set me back a month at least.”

“There’s always Jaime but she’s pretty busy at work.”

“Jaime huh?” Amos smiled mischievously “I haven’t talked to your sister in a long time.”

“I will curse you.” Finnrick playfully threatened “And not no simple hex either. I’ll make you bald.”

Amos gasped dramatically, clutching at his hair protectively “You wouldn’t dare mate.”

“Shinier than the sun.”

“Okay, okay” Amos conceded “I’m kidding. She’s with Casey anyway. Good couple. Cute couple. He still hopelessly selfless and she still trying to fast track her way to power?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna fix that?”

Finnrick shook his head “It’s their lives. Their choices.”

“Idiots.” Amos chuckled “the lot of them.”

“All you need is love?”

“Spoken true the gospel of my land.”

-----

A few hours later with a brainstorm session completed and a promise to help out the next day, Finnrick left Amos to his work and continued with his own.

It was noon now and as the sun rose high in the sky, Finnrick found himself at the Grimyard.

The Grimyard was the premiere spot for all things magical in Newton Haven: Rows and rows of shops specifically catering to the magic community. The streets were paved with century old cobblestone and the buildings here were various hues of faded brick and mortar. It was easy to get lost in the Grimyard if it was your first time as the Grimyard did not spread out, it stacked downward. Layers upon layers of the Grimyard were actually underground to allow those with issues against the sun to sell their goods and services at all times of the day. Don’t let the dark fool you, anyone with worthy talent or product was here in the Grimyard.

Normally Finnrick would wander around a bit, checking out the various businesses and protective wards around the mile long patch of land but he was on the clock and the sooner he began to figure out what was going on, the sooner he could stop it.

Luckily for him, his destination was right here on the top floor of the marketplace. Specifically furthest back corner.

Knightly Ore was ran by the Knight family. Originally they only sold rare metals and ores which were necessary components for some of the more complicated magicks. At some point the owners expanded into selling more alchemical materials and eventually brewing potions, salves and such for a fee.

Despite decent business, it was the most rundown building in this part of the Grimyard: Broken window shudders with the paint faded down to the original shade when the business first opened decades ago. The humble black door was crooked and creaked whenever it moved

Finnrick knew the owners fairly well but here wasn’t here for them. He was here to see their son.

He pushed past the building, ducking into the alley that led to the lot directly behind the shop.

“Halt!” A voice called out “Who seeks the Brewmaster of the Grimyard?”

“It is I, Finnrick the detective. I got money and I need work done”

The Brewmaster was Theodore Knight, an incredibly talented alchemist who didn’t have the same opportunities Finnrick did: He was pretty tall for his age (14 or 15, Finnrick lost track once or twice) but clearly a teenager given his short lavender hair had a few strands dyed red. His eyes were an unnatural pale blue, paler than the blue of the sky. He wore the usual attire Finn often found him in: A sleeveless dark blue hoodie with a fist sized red gem clasped in front just under his neck and a lighter shade blue t-shirt. He wore black finger-less gloves gripping his brown messenger bag slung around his shoulder. A matching brown pouch hung around the waist of his gray cargo shorts and his brown boots were kept clean despite his place of business was in an alley behind his parents shop.

Theo jumped out from a hidden shadowy corner of the lot “Finn, whatcha got for me now?”

Finnrick reached into his pocket, showing the eager teen the vial that held blacken dust within.

“That’s it?” Theo scoffed, rolling his eyes “I was expecting something…...cooler.”

He took the vial and raised it to the sun. Theo gave it a rough shake and watched it carefully for any properties the strange substance would display.

Theo frowned, clearly unsatisfied by what he saw “You brought me ash? Plain ash? It’s your money but even I think it’s a waste.”

“It’s ash?”

Theo shot the detective a look that screamed how obvious it should’ve been “Yes, ash. Thicker than what I’ve seen but ash all the same.”

Finnrick bit his cheek thoughtfully.

“Look Finn, you know my rates. I dunno what you want me to do but standard fees apply.”

“I’ll paying double.”

The Brewmaster’s eyes narrowed suspiciously “Double for ash? What’s so special about it?”

“Oh nothing." Finnrick pretended to look disinterested “Aside it was taken directly from a crime scene: Necromancy and cast via a half melted spell circle.”

It took Theo a minute to allow the implications of what Finnrick said to sink in. His eyes shifted from suspicion to wild excitement.

“Really?!” Theo clutched the vial like it was his first born child “Necromancy really doesn’t like many alchemy processes. It’s not going to be easy for me.”

“I know right?” Finnrick grinned impishly “It’s almost like I’m going to have to pay double for it.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to….” Theo pouted unhappily “Ha freaking ha. Okay smart guy, pay up.”

Finnrick handed over 50 gold. Theo took it eagerly, his eyes lightening up with glee.

Theo paused for a moment, his face turning oddly serious for a teenager.

“It might take me awhile depending on what you want.”

“I want to know what’s in it. Necromancy requires specific ingredients. After that it’ll be easier to track the seller.”

“And the buyer!” Theo blurted out excitedly “Smart.”

Finnrick ruffled his hair playfully “I wish I thought of it. You keep this up and you’re going to run me out of business.”

“I’ll text you when I have something.”

“Pleasure as always Theo.”

“It’s Brewmaster.”

-----

It was 2 in the afternoon when Finnrick made his way back to the Salt-Iron. He stood outside the complex, tossing the remains of his pizza into his waiting maw and crumpling the can of soda he was drinking before tucking into his coat pocket.

“What’s this?” Finnrick asked, utterly confused by the crushed foam cup he pulled from within “Oh right my coffee. I’ve been really at today.”

Finnrick wiped his hands clean and made his way inside the Salt-Iron once more, mulling over the details of the case as he ascended up the stairway.

Blacken ash cast by a spell circle. Both father and son missing with no indication where they went too. Recluses and rarely seen. Necromancy within a threshold.

It was hard to tell how deeply the father and son were involved in spell. Someone who had access to the apartment was behind it no doubt. Spell circles were the most consistent way to cast magic but they took time to build, set and channel energy. You didn’t build a spell circle without knowing exactly what you plan to do with it.

The nature of the magic was also a mystery: Dark magic had various applications and not a single one was good. Finnrick hadn’t much experience with that branch of magic but there was nothing logical about the aftereffects: Ash spread throughout the apartment, clinging to everything like a second skin. There was no signs of an outward blast given that nothing bent in the same direction. Everything in that room decided to twist in whatever wayit felt like. If the spell was supposed to draw in something then chair legs and wall tiles would’ve been pulled directly towards the circle.

“Curiouser and curiouser Alice” Finnrick spoke to no one in particular.

He was on the fifth floor when he noticed something odd.

Finnrick raised an eyebrow as the skies outside the window darken, black and stormy.

A thunderstorm it seems.

Finnrick peered out the window, glancing upwards to see what was going on.

Dark clouds swirled directly overhead. Rain began to lightly drizzle as the skies boomed. Thunder and a moment later lightning trailing across the gathering storm.

A thunderstorm that formed directly above this building.

Without warning.

“Well that’s not ominous.”

Finnrick made the mistake of leaning closer to the window, peering around to see if he could see where exactly the storm was coming from when it happened.

“Watch out below!”

Finnrick noticed three things in that moment: First, was of course, someone shouting to watch out below. Second was the distant sound of claws scratching something wooden, the walls perhaps. Lastly was the thudding of something falling down quickly and towards him.

Finnrick rose his hand, pivoting on his heels in time to see something crash into him.

It wasn’t much of a contest: Both Finnrick and whatever slammed into him broke through the fifth story window and went sprawling into a freefall.

#My story #Mirror's Edge #Original Work #original story

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coldmilkcreamery · 4 years ago

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ornaments.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: seo changbin x male reader 🥀

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1403

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: in which changbin asks about the bracelet Y/N never takes off and finds out it’s from his friend that committed suicide.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘀: mentions of blood and death; suicide

𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝘆 🌙

𝗮/𝗻: i took a lot longer on this fic because i lost motivation so many times, but looking at the finished product, it’s my favorite out of the four i've made so far !! thank you so much for requesting @mrsunshine999 !! please continue supporting us !! <3

> 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 <

Changbin was naturally curious. Whether it be about his cousin's current class, what his bandmate ate for yesterday’s dinner or the weather of a country on the opposite side of the globe. He was curious about anything and everything. So, naturally, after dating Y/N for about two months, he would get curious about the lime bracelet that wrapped itself around his boyfriend’s hand. The said trinket was held together by a single thread of yarn, decorated with miniature glass beads and a tiny, fluffy frog in the middle. If he was being honest with himself, it did not look aesthetically pleasing. In fact, it wasn't. The beads were uneven and scuffed up, the color choice was horrible and overall it just looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while. He was afraid to call his partner out on this, being the shy bear he was, but after seven weeks with his boyfriend, both his curiosity and hygiene-oholic self got the better of him.

“You know,” Changbin mumbled in a sing-song tone, staring at the unattractive accessory, “you never told me about that…” he pauses, rethinks his words and continues again as his boyfriend locks eyes with him, “bracelet around your wrist.” Y/N freezes, resulting in both of them halting, and with them, their stroll at the park.

“You okay?” Changbin asks, half confused, half worried, “I’m talking about the—”

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about.” Y/N cuts him off, lips quivering as he tightens his grip on the paper bags he holds, almost ripping the fragile sheets, “Let’s just drop these off at Nicky’s first.” Nicky’s is the name of the local bread shop they deliver to and for. In fact, both men had met each other there as delivery boys. To the owner’s surprise, both hit it off pretty well. Too well to the point that they started dating.

The walk out of the park and into the autumn street was quiet, way quieter than it was supposed to be. The street was bustling, there were cars honking their horns and bicycles ringing their bells, but it was all ear-splitting silence with Y/N. After dating him for seven weeks, and knowing him for even more, he was sure his boyfriend was always bubbly and upbeat. But in this moment, something about his actions, or the lack thereof, said the exact opposite. And to be really honest, it made Changbin uneasy. He knew what he said had upset his partner. He wanted to apologize but was too afraid—to sound dumb and repetitive or to hurt his feelings even more. Which of the two was it? That he was unsure of.

“Good morning Mrs. Park!” Changbin greets, showing his dimples off as both boys enter the shop.

“Good morning!” Mrs. Park chirps back, raising her head towards both men, retracting the knife from the loaf she held. “Oh! Those must be the bread I ordered! Thank you for getting them, you know me, too old to walk all the way to the supplier. Too old to remember to do so too.” She laughs, putting the bread knife flat on the wooden cutting board as she shifts her gaze from Changbin to Y/N. “Oh! You can put that in the back.” Y/N nods as he drags his feet towards the back of the shop, slowly disappearing into its retro-ness.

The store’s aroma was always the same, the smell of lavender and the chilly air slapping them in the face whenever they went in. But Y/N’s aura wasn't. And Mrs. Park could tell.

“What’s up with him?” She asked, raising a brow, not really expecting the answer she would get.

“I asked him about that lime bracelet he has on all the time.” Changbin replies, sighing, “It’s… kinda dirty don't you think?”

“Oh.” is all she replies. She stays silent for an uncomfortable amount of time until Changbin realizes.

“I… didn’t do anything wrong, right?” He says, hoping for the best, “What is it any—”

“I think it would be better if you ask him yourself.”

“Well…” Changbin doubles back, “if it’s anything uncomfortable for him to share, then I won’t bug about it anymore. I don’t want to sacrifice his feelings for my curiosity.” He replies, unsure of what to think.

Mrs. Park nods and as if on queue, Y/N reappears and steps out the pantry, paper bags that were previously held by his hands gone. He smiles at the lady in her 40’s and heads straight to the door, leaving the scent of lavender and bread behind. Changbin follows suit, looking at Mrs. Park as she nods back, sending him a reassuring smile.

Changbin steps out into the breezy autumn eventide, hues of marigold and tangerine painting the afternoon skies like a canvas. Y/N trudged and crossed the street, entering back into the park, the aura much different from before. What was bright and warm this afternoon became darker and colder as the moon began its daily process: replacing the sun. What was once a yellow orb glowing high up in the sky was now just a small orange blob on the horizon, and on the opposite side of the colored canvas, a glimmering white crescent, slowly rising through the blue hues. Changbin found the indigo, azure, tangerine and marigold ombré charming, a sight he would never forget. Y/N spotted a nearby bench and sat down, his boyfriend taking the empty space beside him. They sat there for a while, staring at the moms telling their children to get off the swings so they can go home, and the hotdog vendor packing up and calling it a day. In a way, both the swings and the hotdogs reminded him of someone… special.

“I—” Y/N pauses, trying to rephrase his words once again, “I haven’t really told you about this,” he says, brushing his fingers ever so slightly over the lime fabric on his wrist, “gift.”

Changbin is confused, visually confused at that, but keeps quiet and lets him continue. “A friend of mine… gave this to me.” Y/N says, looking up towards the darkening skies, holding a tear back, “At first I thought it sucked, you know, the beads don’t look that nice. I didn’t see its value.” He said, face scrunching as he tries his hardest not to let a tear out. “So I didn’t wear it.” Changbin nods, unsure of what to say.

“He passed away a month later.” He fails to keep the cap on his bottled feelings on, a tear or two slipping out, “I found him in the bathtub, blood everywhere, and his face… oh his face,” Changbin wraps him in warmth, “it looked lifeless and yet so… sorrowful.” He says, clenching the left side of his shirt, more tears dripping down the side of his face, only to be dried up by the fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt, “I didn’t know that was possible.”

Changbin hugged and patted his back for a while until he calmed down, until he could finally form a proper sentence. “He helped me figure out and accept who I am.” Y/N says, the left side of his lip pulling up as his face forms a melancholic smile, “I didn’t realize it back then, but I wouldn’t have been so open with my sexuality now if it wasn’t for him.” Both stared up at the young night sky, the elegant stars beginning to show themselves. “I’ve worn this,” he says, fiddling with the dirty cotton frog in the center of the trinket, “since the day we buried him.”

Y/N lets a tear fall once again as he leans his head on Changbin’s shoulder, finding the closure he thought he’d already found months ago. “I loved him. Still do. I just wish he would've told me about his problems. Just wish he would’ve stuck around for a little longer.” Changbin nods once again, still unsure of what to say.

“But that was all in the past. There’s nothing I can do about it now.” Y/N says, ripping his eyes away from the lime bracelet, staring up at the midnight blue sky, the bijou stars twinkling in the distance, “Nothing but remember him with this ugly ass ornament.” Changbin looks into his eyes, confused.

“This ugly ass ornament that means the world to me.”

End.

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙: 01.15.21

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙: 01.21.21

#changbin x male reader #stray kids x male reader #kpop x male reader #changbin #male reader #changbin male reader #stray kids #stray kids male reader #kpop male reader #3racha x male reader #3racha male reader

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theobxhummingbird · 4 years ago

Text

Little love. -Luke Patterson x Reader.

Summary: A few songs, to confessions and apologies.

Here are the requests: Heya! If requests are still open, can I please request a JATP Luke fic where both him and the reader are alive, and Luke and the reader both write music but the reader is down because of family reasons and cant seem to write, so Luke writes a song for her to help inspire her and he tells her he had fallen for her and it’s super duper fluffy and cuddly and sweet at the end ✨🥺

Platonic! Alive! Reggie, Luke and Alex (jatp) x Reader where she is the youngest in the band and starts sleeping at the studio more and more? The boys get worried until they find out her dad kicked her out. Maybe soft Luke, Reggie and Alex protective older brother cuddles? Sorry this didn’t really make sense!

A/N: I wrote songs for the imagine--seriously...🥺 Judge them, hate them, love them, I won’t be mad, because they’re ridiculous. Thank you to the requests and enjoy the imagine.

They could be heard from the street, and it made all the lights flicker in the neighborhood houses. The people were wondering what’s being thrown in the Y/L/N household, until everything was very clear to them. Together with a backpack, and her guitar bag, the door shut in front of Y/N’s face. Her chin touched her chest, and she started sobbing. Reaching for the backpack and the guitar, Y/N started walking away from the house.

She was supposed to be at rehearsal on time, and the four boys were waiting for her. But they didn’t expect her to come inside so slowly, and quietly get behind the piano. They had written a song, and it was the first trying it with the instruments. Luke, Reggie, Bobby, Alex; they were all trying to do their best, while playing the piano, came as an escape for Y/N, and they couldn’t notice anything wrong with her. But they changed their view on her state, when she looked up at them; as her eyes spoke the language of sadness.

-Are you okay? –said Alex, holding her shoulder.

-Yes—I am—just wanted to tell you that I’ll write some music first then leave the studio, so leave me the keys.

-Here captain. –Reggie dropped them in her hand, and gave her a hug, as all three boys followed him, Luke hugging her a bit longer.

-You’ll be fine. –he said, and pinched her nose, before heading for the door. Was she? Y/N didn’t even know herself. Her chin rested on her knees, as tears flooded her eyes again. It was the first time she had ever argued with her parents, with the outcome of them getting way too mad at each other, and ending it with kicking their daughter out.

-Why me? Why do I always have to take the faultiness? –she cried into her knees. The night was long, and Y/N was alone in the studio. Only, now, lit by a lamp, she took out her journal, and a pen. She was ready to spill out everything into words, which was the best way of reminiscing the words of her parents. Believe in me; she wrote at the top of the notebook.

“That night I heard, a broken voice from a bird, and by every word, I couldn’t feel no more.” She scribbled words and then sentences, until it turned into a complete song: “Believe in me, I’m not a lie, what I love is what I never hide. And those empty streets, that are filled with melodies, you’re hurting with your dissimilarities.”

-The morning came, and she wasn’t even aware, until a big shadow hovered over her, blocking the sunlight that was warming her face.

-Y/N, wake up. –said a soft voice, as it nudged her slowly.

-Guys? –she stared at Luke, Reggie and Alex.

–What are you doing here—so—early?

-What are you, doing here so early? –said Reggie, -And why are you sleeping on the couch?

-I was—waiting for you and uh—had fallen asleep.-Oh—okay—then let’s get started with rehear-

-Wait Reggie, wait. –said Alex, and the guy stood back on his spot, -You’re lying to us, I can see it in your eyes. It’s not the look, when you’re telling the truth.

-Something was up with you since last night. And I didn’t say anything to you, thinking an alone time is what you need, but I can’t pretend that I don’t realize those pleading eyes. –said Luke, and sat down next to her.

-My dad kicked me out of the house last night. –she said.

Reggie gasped, but Alex’s reflex was quick to shut his mouth, by putting his hand on Reggie’s mouth and giving him a glare.

-Why? Did you have an argument?

-He didn’t approve his seventeen-year-old daughter, to play in a rock band. I tried to calmly talk to him, but he started yelling. We’ve had a financial crisis at home for a long time, and he took it out on me making music. Why does he think I’m making music? Only because I think of myself and my dreams? No, I also do it to help my parents. To give them as much as they’ve given me. But he didn’t even listen to me; just threw everything we had in the house, then—kicked me out.

-Did you give them a call, or did they—give you—never mind. –started Alex, but then threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, to comfort her.

-Never mind, I’ll fix this myself. I have a song. I mean—if you want to read it.

Luke took her journal, and opened to the page she told him, and quickly moved his eyes through the lyrics, and smiled at the words, -It’s beautiful. We’ll try the music for it later. Alex engulfed her in a hug, followed by Reggie, then by Luke. She melted into the shield of the three muscular boys. They projected warmth and love, that it was the easiest thing for her, to just tell them what she feels, because she knew they’ll first listen, then make a comment.

-I love you guys. –she wiped away her tears, and fixed herself. They brought breakfast along the way, and Y/N made the table so they could eat.

-I think we should write a song about hotdogs, you know? –Reggie spoke with his mouth full. –Just as a reminder, we should never eat them from wherever.

-You’re lucky you didn’t die, for else we would’ve written it on your stone. –said Alex.

-Y/N, we need to finish writing that song. –said Luke, as he looked at her not so concentrated self. Her fork sluggishly moved around the food, and she barely took a bite out of it.

-Huh—yeah, sure, we’ll finish it.

And they did. It was a beautiful song. He thought she wouldn’t be able to think of anything, but emotions had trapped her hard, that she thought of very breathtaking lines. They even tried it with the music, and were ready to add it onto the lists of the songs for the album.

Her head was slowly falling, and the boys decided to stay with her that night, and not leave her alone in the studio. Reggie was half asleep on the other couch, while Alex played with his drumsticks. Luke was holding his guitar, trying to think of some new words. Y/N’s head fell on her shoulder, and she was asleep, just like Reggie.

Luke looked over, to see her peacefully, with pouted lips, asleep next to him. It was painful seeing her in an uncomfortable position, so he picked her up in his hands, and placed her nicely on the couch, throwing a blanket over her body. Luke sat there for hours, observing her as she slept, and thought about the history the both of them had. He’s been observing her like that for a long time; since the day they met each other, but never knew how to express how he feels, scared it’s only one-sided.

The pen moved on the paper, making little dents as he wrote. Words were spilling out, as his eyes glanced at her, analyzing every detail of her face. Little love

- LITTLE LOVE

Closed eyes, pursed lips, one by one they tell me your sides,

Will I be able to fix what you feel?

Can I tame those wild tides?

And can I give a little love,

To my angel, of all the above.

Don’t remember them breaking words,

I don’t know, if there’s something you can remember,

But just leave them behind, and I’ll be your heart’s tender.

And just like a free bird,

Fly away from what you heard,

Brush away your pride,

And swim away with your sorrow tide.

But before you go, can I get little love,

Can I get those peaceful eyes?

And those warm lips,

To break away some of them boundaries?

Reggie and Alex were now, both, asleep, and Luke was alone with his written song. He tried to persuade himself into the confession through the song, without hurting her, because he knew she had such a hard time at the moment. But the next day, when he found a chance to be alone with her, Luke pulled her hand, and they both sat on the couch. He positioned his guitar, and gave her the written song. He started playing, and singing the words.

Y/N’s mouth fell apart, as her eyes widened a bit. She couldn’t even breathe in the moment, because Luke’s soft eyes didn’t leave hers, while he shot the words at her. He was such a sweet person, and she now remembered how much she admired him for the way all his emotions could be heard from his lyrics. But these—she thought she understood wrong, until the guitar dropped on the floor, and his hands were cupping her face. Their lips melted into each other, as her tears pecked his face. It was a moment of relief, and he couldn’t be more in need to take all her pain, and keep it to himself, so she doesn’t have to go through it.

-I love you. -he whispered when they split apart, and finally looked into her eyes.

-Our feelings are mutual, Luke Patterson. I love you too. And this song—is—just—perfect; flawless.

-Just like you. And I know you won’t agree, but I’ve never seen someone so responsible for everything in their life. You’ll get through this; we’ll get through this. You have my support and love like you always did.

-They won’t want me back, Luke.

-Yes they will, trust me. They’re your parents, and if there’s something the most important in their life, that’s you; their daughter. And I don’t doubt, they’re waiting for you. So—let’s go, we’ll fix this together, I’ll hold your hand till the house. You are doing what you love, and you’re doing it well, and it would be a loss if you leave it.

-Thank you so much for being next to me. Always. –she snuggled into him.

-I’ll forever hold you in my arms whenever something goes wrong. But just know, I’m doing everything so you don’t cry.

-I know; I hope I’ll be as sweet as you are. Writing me songs, and taking care of me.

-You’re already doing that, bird. You have your precious love, bewitch me. Isn’t that enough? –he kissed her forehead, and gestured her so they could leave for her parents’ house.

That night, not only were the boundaries between Luke and Y/N taken away, but also between her and her family. Now, they let her explain herself, and express the love for music, and all that was in their hands was to agree on her profession. As well as approve the relationship with the beautiful boy, that had as much as love for music as her—as well as for Y/N.

#luke patterson x reade #luke x y/n #luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms fan fiction #jatp netflix #jatp luke #jatp reggie #jatp alex #theobxhummingbird

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lyricalimerence · 4 years ago

Text

Colorful Consequences - JJ Maybank

summary: jj dyes his hair after losing a bet

word count: 1718

warnings: a little swearing, just friendship fluff

a/n: this is so cute don't even look at me + and this is for @maybanktho for the concept prompt

*this is how i imagine the color, but he just dyes the fringe/front part of his hair*

It all started with a bet—as most things do between you and JJ. There had to be a prize and a consequence, it was just your friendship dynamic. You two became friends through a competition he set in the fourth grade during recess. You both played on the field, juggling half pumped up soccer balls and booting them into opposite goals, not wanting to get in each other's way. Until he kicked his soccer ball into your goal on purpose, proposing a bet that he could sink a goal from farther away than you could. However, much to his ten-year-old chagrin, you won. He had to eat a hot dog from the cafeteria the next day—the hot dogs were chalky and an abnormal color. You, however, got to be one of his best friends for life. He would say that he got the winning end of that bet in the end, having you by his side for the past six years outweighed the stomachache he had after eating that hotdog.

This time, it was a surfing bet, and, as were getting gloriously used to, you won. His punishment was he had to dye his hair, and your prize was you choosing the color. A schedule wasn’t set for the day you had to become his personal hairdresser, so you were going about your Saturday morning as usual—half hungover and asleep on your couch, not having gotten to your bedroom before passing out the night prior. Your parents were nowhere to be found, probably on the mainland having affairs with rich people for money, or something along those lines—you didn’t particularly care anymore.

The familiar knocking pattern of JJ Maybank, your best friend, slammed into your eyes, almost abrasively as your head throbbed from the alcohol you consumed last night. Once you collected your thoughts together, you were surprised JJ was awake, not being the “up-and-at-em” type in the slightest.

Somehow, you managed to pull yourself off the couch, the crick in your neck loosening as you stretched.

“You look like shit, Y/N,” JJ announced, leaning against the doorframe as you wiped the sleep from your hardly open eyes.

“Thanks for noticing, Sherlock,” you smiled wryly, pushing the hair from your fringe falling over your face. “What’re you doing here? And why are you handling your alcohol so much better than me?”

JJ walked past you, patting your shoulder as he entered your small house, the homey decor and familiar scent of fresh cookies and linen febreze inviting him in with as much vigor as you did the first time he came to your home. “Today is the day, my friend. And, in regards to the whole hungover deal, I so happen to not be a lightweight, unlike some…” he trailed off to glance at your slouched frame, the cuffs of your paper bag denim jeans bunched up around your shins, and the thick strapped tank from Pelican Marina that you chopped the bottom off of, was pushed up around the band of your bra. Normally, you’d be self conscious of how much of your torso was on display, but you were feeling like a dead squirrel, and it wasn't like JJ hadn't seen you in a bikini almost everyday.

Moving towards the couch to refold the blanket you had knocked onto yourself before you fell asleep, you asked, with an increasing amount of pep and clarity, “Today is the day for what?”

“I’m glad you asked, Y/N! You're dying my hair today. Get ready so we can go to the store.” He seemed a bit nervous, his hand instinctively going to the blond pieces of hair that fell as fringe over his forehead. A goofy smile spread across your face as his words sunk in, the leftover cranky drunkenness fading away as you almost jumped in the air as you ran to your bathroom to get ready.

Once you got out of the shower and changed into a t-shirt and shorts, you met JJ back in your family room, his eyes glued to the phone screen in his hand, his eyes tracing over the photo he was looking at. His phone was open to a picture Kie took of you two on the HMS, having been in the midst of a shotgunning competition. Your hair fell in waves, from your ears down it was a light teal color, matching the oceanic background. JJ zoomed in on the picture, scrolling between the bright, superficial hair color to his photographed blond locks. “Hey!” You made him jump, as you leant against the back of the sofa, looking over his shoulder.

“I was thinking this color?” He sounded a little unsure, but as a hair dying veteran, you knew it was just virgin hair jitters. You took pride in having watched enough Brad Mondo, making you think you could do his hair just as well as a hairdresser.

You reached over, swiping so the camera app was open, and you maneuvered your ponytail to lay over his forehead, the pastel turquoise color of your hair covering most of his face, “I think ya look great.”

He jumped off the couch, grumbling about you being a total dork, and to just get the damn car keys. Having completely sobered up, you grabbed the keys to your old pickup truck and all but skipped out the door. JJ, being blond, had such good hair for dying. You had wondered what he’d look like with crazy colored locks multiple times, he had just never agreed until you won the bet.

Once you two had arrived at the store, a wave of air conditioning hit you, pricking at your bare legs and arms. Having been very acquainted with the beauty supply store, you walked straight to the aisle of hair dye, JJ following cluelessly in your wake. The lanyard holding your keychain was tucked in your denim short’s pocket, the ribbon loop brushing your knee as you bent down to pick up a mixing bowl and color application brushes. You looked towards JJ who was watching you with stitched together eyebrows and evident confusion. “These are semi-permanent colors,” you pointed to a section of the shelves, bottles and tubes or paint like hair dyes sprawling out in front of JJ. “Your hair is light enough that it won’t need bleach… so how long are you committed to this merman look, ya think?”

JJ turned his head to look at you, his eyes lazily gazing at your dimpled smile. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

“As you should!” A laugh bounced from your lips as you nodded, pulling two bottles from the shelf of semi-permanent colors, knowing he’d want to be able to change it at some point. “I used this dye for my hair, if that’s what you want.” He nodded and took the bottle from your hand, staring at it with optimistic intrigue. “C’mon,” you motioned for him to follow you to the checkout line where you two split the bill and you teased him with the cashier with whom you were familiar.

Once you drove JJ back to your house—after going through the McDonald’s drive thru because JJ was hungry—you rummaged through your bathroom, stains of pinks, greens, blues, purples, reds, oranges, and blacks danced along the edge of your sink and shower from your previous dye jobs. You threw a blue towel at JJ to wrap around his shoulders, knocking a french fry out of his hand. “Hey, I was eating that.”

You mock pouted at his indignation but stayed silent so you could pour some of the dye into the mixing bowl. Before slipping on plastic gloves, you sectioned out JJ’s hair with old butterfly clips and barrettes he used to make fun of you for wearing in the sixth grade, claiming you were too grown up for hair clips. Although, he was owning the look now, pretending to flip his fringe sassily before you peeled the strands of blond off his forehead.

JJ was swiping through his phone, looking for Spotify before putting on his playlist and drumming on the counter with his fingers to the beat. You had to hold his head still multiple times with one hand, your other hand otherwise occupied with a brush filled with hair dye. Once he calmed down, you started brushing the color on the ends of his fringe, following the sections you had created. By the time you had finished and worked the dye to the roots of his fringe you handed him a mirror. “Whatcha think?”

He stared at the mirror like he was looking at a foreign object. “I mean I like it… Do you think we could stop here, just dye the front pieces?”

You hummed in response, grabbing the now empty plastic bag from the store and tying it just over his hair to incubate it with heat. “Okay, now we wait for thirty minutes.”

“Let's watch Avatar the Last Airbender.” JJ suggested, as you two walked into the main hallway of your small house on The Cut. Responding with a short word of agreement, you watched JJ jump over the couch to sit on it, aiming the remote at the screen.

After your phone beeped, signaling the end of thirty minutes, you had to tear JJ away from the TV, him having become engrossed by Aang’s adventures. Somehow you managed to rinse his hair out in the basin of your shower, adding to the colorful splotches on the rim. He complained about the water being cold then when you warmed it up, he cupped his hand under the faucet and splashed you with it.

Using all your self control, you extinguished the beginnings of a water fight in your bathroom and rinsed all the dye from JJ’s hair.

Shaking his hair like a wet dog, water droplets flying at you, JJ haphazardly dried his hair before looking in the mirror. “Wait, that's actually so good.”

“Really?” You asked through a grin, excited he liked the color. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and squeezed you into his side.

“Yeah, it's awesome, Y/N!” He let go of you just to grab your hand and pull you through your house, “Let’s go show the others.”

Another bet he lost with more than optimal consequences.

tags - click here if you'd like to be added

@ilovejjmaybank @thelocalpogue @calumbroutledge @drew-starkey @jayjaymaebank @prejudic3 @anonymous0writer @rudys-pankow @lovingxjj @apoguecalledjj @write-from-the-heart @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @insanitysparkles @bxllasanosa @fandomsinapile @starkeymarkey @beatement-l @outerbanksbro @abigailpankow @popcsheyward @mahleeyuh @queenofthebees003 @kaitieskidmore1 @copper-boom @starlightstarkey @joyfulfrappuccino @king-ronnoc @ultranikilove

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #rudy pankow #jj #obx fanfiction #fluff #jj maybank x you #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #obx imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rudy pankow fic #jj is pop punk king

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notyourdayrdream · 3 years ago

Text

Summer’s Almost Over (So Come Spend it with Me)

Day Five, Side A: Austere

read it here on AO3

A/N: brief mention of Kurt being kissed without consent in season two of Glee

(also! for this two shot: Kurt and Blaine met at Dalton, but never dated.)

“What if we went to Coney Island Saturday?” Brittany exclaimed at their weekly potluck, completely out of the blue. Nobody had even mentioned the theme park. Though, to be fair, nobody begins half of the conversations Brittany throws them in.

For some reason, everyone agreed, even Rachel. She said taking a break from the hustle of Broadway was exactly what she needed to be ready to continue her role as Fanny on Monday.

Outvoted, Kurt reluctantly sat between Blaine and Sam on the subway ride to Coney Island, legs shaking the entire time. It wasn’t that he hated carnivals. It was the opposite, actually. When he was younger, his mom and dad took him to the Ohio state carnival. It’s one of the last memories he can fully remember of her, her long blonde hair braided back as she threw a plastic ball at a stack of milk cans. Anything for her kid, especially one who desperately wanted an oversized dragon plushie.

No, he’s nervous because he has a date at eight.

Kurt met Oliver at a coffeehouse near the Vogue office, he was the barista who served him his drink. Oliver’s number was scribbled on the receipt. It was all very cute, and his friends agreed when he told them the story.

They texted back and forth a week before Oliver asked him out. Kurt happily agreed, hoping for a calm day before getting dressed and heading out to a fancy dinner. Now though, he won’t even have enough time to shower the smell of hotdogs off his body and be on time.

So Kurt’s scrolling through Oliver’s Instagram (not at all like a creep,) when Artie pats his shoulder. “There they are,” he points ahead as the rest of his friends stumble to them, chatting animatedly about the rollercoaster they just went on.

“You know, when you said ‘let’s go on a ride,’ I didn’t think you meant the one with a huge drop,” Rachel says, gripping Santana’s arm so hard it might fall off. Her hair is wind whipped and messy.

“C’mon Rach, you could’ve sat with Kurt and Artie if you wanted,” Mercedes says from behind her, arms wrapped around Sam’s waist.

“Did you guys have fun?” Kurt asks from the bench, carefully closing the app so he doesn’t accidentally like an old photo. “Rachel looks like she just died.” This is why he didn’t go on the ride.

Blaine sits beside him on the bench, his eyes gleaming with a sort of childlike wonder. He’s a total adrenaline junkie. “It was amazing, she’s overreacting,” he whispers not-too-discreetly. Kurt giggles.

“Let’s split up,” Santana suggests. “I wanna go on another coaster, and the park closes at six. We can grab dinner after?”

“Unless you’re Sam and Brittany, who already ate,” Artie chides. His camera rests on his lap, storage filled with videos and photos of their trip.

“Hey! Cotton candy is not one of the five food groups!” Brittany sticks out a blue tongue at him, Sam does the same. Their respective partners laugh.

“I have to leave soon,” Kurt reminds the group, checking his phone another time. Five thirty-two.

“Wait, never mind guys,” Santana alerts, appearing to be suddenly anxious. “Kurt has to get his brains fucked out at eight, so we can’t have dinner.” Both Blaine and Kurt wince.

“Too far, San.” Mercedes cringes as her and Sam make their way down the boardwalk steps and to the beach. The others shake their heads in similar disgust before going their separate ways. Rachel pushes Artie to the outdoor arcade with plans to win a bagged goldfish. Brittany pulls her girlfriend by a sticky hand to the older wooden coaster.

“So…” Blaine knocks his shoulder as they walk down the boardwalk. The gel has completely left his hair throughout the course of the day, curls hanging just above his eyebrows. “Whatcha wanna do?” Kurt spies him eyeing the Wonder Wheel beside him.

He shakes his head, not waiting for the question. “No.”

“Please?” Blaine pleaded. “You haven’t been on anything this whole time.” He sidesteps a tiny toddler crying over a fallen ice cream cone.

“I didn’t want Artie to feel alone!” Kurt defends himself. Which was true, most of the coasters weren’t accessible for him, so they spent the time bonding over the grossness of carnival food and looking at footage from the day.

“We’ll Artie isn’t here now,” Blaine replies, voice dropping an octave. “So come on the ferris wheel with me.” He bats his eyelashes for extra effect. Kurt’s stomach swoops.

Blaine has a way of doing that to him. In their near five year friendship, he’s made Kurt’s stomach tie up in knots more times than he can count. He won’t deny he used to have a crush on him in high school; he was preppy and chivalrous and oh so cute in his bow ties and blazers.

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he sighs. Blaine cheers next to him, mumbling ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’ in the same deep voice that makes the blood rush to Kurt’s face.

Okay, maybe the crush wasn’t entirely dead. But it’s completely normal to have crushes on your friends. Friendly crushes.

Since the park is soon to close, the lines weren’t too long anymore. Kurt and Blaine move up first in line after only five minutes.

The ride operator turns to them. Her hair is bordering on orange. “You guys want an outside or inside car?” Her voice has no expression, and she looks two more button presses from quitting her job.

“Outside.” Kurt and Blaine say at the same time, followed by a quiet laugh.

She eyes them. “Alright.” She presses another button, and the outer ring of ferris wheel carts rotate downwards until an empty one comes to the bottom. “Enjoy the ride.”

Blaine and Kurt slide into the seat, sitting on opposite sides of the enclosure. The ride jerks forward and up, until they’re halfway around the ride. “Are you okay? Your face is really pale.” Blaine asks, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“Mm-hmm,” Kurt squeaks, closing his eyes to avoid looking down. Even though the car is supposed to be stationary, it rocks just a little as it moves up and down to complete its first circle.

Blaine thinks for a moment before saying quietly, “You’re afraid of heights?” He jumps a little in his seat, and the car rocks with it. Kurt’s stomach drops.

“I am!” he snaps, opening his eyes. “Stop moving so much.” The city is lit up around them, the sound of cheers from the rollercoaster whizzing by below him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Blaine stills himself. “I wouldn’t have made you go on if you had told me, Kurt!” He looks so worried that Kurt feels bad for even mentioning his fear. It’s completely irrational anyway, he doesn't even have a reason to be so scared. It’s just the fact he believes no human needs to be up one hundred fifty feet high.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he tries to console Blaine (and himself). “It’ll be over in what, three more minutes?” He can last three more minutes. Hell, he’s lasted an hour listening to Rachel and Santana argue.

And then the ride stops. At the very top.

It takes a minute for the two of them to realize this isn’t supposed to happen. “Why’d it stop.” Kurt says. His body feels like it might melt onto the floor. “Oh my god, no.”

“We’re stuck.” Blaine groans, which, thanks Captain Obvious! Those two words are confirmation that this is actually the absolute worst day ever. “I’ll call someone.”

Rachel’s ringtone beats him to it.

Kurt can’t hear much of the conversation, but from the looks Blaine throws his way, he knows it isn’t good. He cracks his knuckles as a way to distract himself from the slight sway of the cart. Passerbys the size of ants point and look up at the malfunctioned ride.

Blaine clicks the end call button. “Okay, good news first, ” he begins, pocketing his phone. “Rachel and Artie talked to the operators, and they’re working on fixing the ride.”

“Bad news?” Kurt presses. Blaine likes to do that thing where he gives good news then bad news, but the latter is always so bad the good news pales in comparison. He’s done that ever since they met. It’s silly, but it’s Blaine, so Kurt loves it.

“Bad news is that it might take thirty minutes, maybe forty-five.” Blaine cringes from the other side of the cart, waiting for Kurt’s outburst.

“No.” Kurt snatches his phone out of his pocket. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening!” He feels tears prick at the back of his eyes. He’s gonna be late. “I’m gonna miss my date!” He groans, and yeah it may be a little over dramatic, but he hasn’t been on a date with someone in months. He was really excited.

Expecting sympathy from Blaine, he glanced over at him. He’s glaring right back at him. “What?”

“Is that really what you’re worried about right now?” Blaine says abruptly. “God forbid you miss your date.” He rolls his eyes with more venom Kurt’s seen in him ever. It freaks him out and angers him at the same time.

“Okay, what’s your problem?” He retorts, eyes narrowing. Blaine shrinks back a little at the stare, but doesn’t stop glowering.

“You’ve been going on about this stupid guy the whole day, complaining about how you have to go home, I’m so sick of it!” Blaine continues. His voice grows louder by the end.

“He’s not stupid, okay?” Kurt doesn’t know why he feels like he has to defend Oliver, but he does anyway. “And you’re the main one who wanted me to go out with him!” This whole situation is confusing him.

Blaine huffs indignantly and crosses his arms. “Maybe I don’t want you to anymore!”

“Why not?” Kurt presses. He’s never seen his best friend act like this. He almost seems jealous.

“Because I like you!” Blaine cries, eyes wet. “Jesus, couldn’t you tell?” His face is red now, flushed up to his neck.

Kurt flinches. “Please stop yelling.”

“I’m sorry.” Blaine immediately backs down, curling into himself. “I like you, Kurt. I’m sorry if that freaks you out, but I do.”

The sun is starting to set now, casting what feels like the entire world in an orange haze. The ocean to the right of them glimmers, couples walked in tandem along the shore. To the left, the skyline of Brooklyn appears austere and somber from so high up.

“How long?” Kurt says finally, eyes settling on the horizon and the rolling waves.

“How long what?”

“How long have you liked me?” He doesn’t know if he wants the answer.

There’s a pause until Blaine eventually murmurs, “Five years.”

Kurt’s heart drops. “Blaine.” Why didn’t he say anything? Oh god, this is horrible.

“I just, I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship by admitting anything,” Blaine explains, rubbing the nape of his neck. “It’s a lame excuse. But—yeah.” And he resides back into silence.

It is a lame excuse, Kurt thinks. Of course it wouldn’t have ruined anything. He had a crush on his stepbrother, for Christ’s sake. “So why did you want me to go out with Oliver so bad?”

“I thought, maybe, if you started dating someone I could get over you,” he laughs to himself. “That obviously didn’t work.”

Kurt just stares at him for a moment until he makes up his mind. “I’m coming over there.”

Blaine jerks out of his thoughts. “N-no, don’t come any closer,” he stammers. “You’ll mess up the balance of the car.” He looks terrified. Kurt can’t decide if it’s sad or adorable.

He rolls his eyes. “I won’t mess up the balance of anything.” Kurt stands slowly, holding his arms out to his sides. He takes the three steps to Blaine’s side of the car quickly to get it over with, shaking the seats. When he falls into the seat, Blaine steadies him by the waist. The touch shocks both of them, and he snatches his arm back.

They sit shoulder to shoulder, neither of them daring to move. It’s what feels like hours before Kurt takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts. “Do you remember when we first met? And I was having trouble with Karofsky? You texted me a single word. Courage.” He turns to the side. Blaine looks absolutely disheveled, sweating and curls getting frizzier by the minute. Weirdly, he looks gorgeous.

Blaine snorts. “Yeah, that word got you sexually assaulted.”

“No,” Kurt shakes his head, choosing to ignore the way his heart stops from the words. “That word saved me. You saved me, Blaine.” He would’ve never stood up for himself without that text. It got him through McKinley and Dalton and NYADA to this day.

“I’m always going to care about you. And I’m sorry I don’t… like you the way you like me. But I used to,” Kurt admits, now nervous like must’ve been. That secret was supposed to go to the grave. “And maybe I can again.”

Blaine meets his gaze, an emotion Kurt can’t quite place swirling around his eyes. “Okay.” He smiles, and though it is wavering, it’s also hopeful.

There’s a jolt, and the wheel starts turning again. It’s dark now, the sun fully disappeared below the horizon. The sky is a mix of purple and black and blue, a bruise painted among the stars. Kurt hears cheers from the other cars as they reach the ground below. “Okay.”

#spaceorphan’s sophisticated challenge: austere #glee #writing #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #surprise cliffhanger mwahahahaha #jk i’ll continue it tmrw #also these words just keep harder whyyy #this is my official headcanon that kurt’s afraid of heights

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curiosi-tea-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Letters from Home (One Survivor pt. 2)

Pairing: Din Djarin Cobb Vanth

Setting: Survivor AU / Modern AU (My previous fic of this AU can be found here.)

Warning: This is 3036 words of almost pure angst! Also, some cursing.

Summary: Din and Cobb are excited to go to a reward challenge together with Fennec and Boba until it’s reveled that part of the reward are letters from home. Then, Din asks Fennec to help him with a lie to Cobb that would advance one of them in the game while taking the other out of it.

@i-dnt-know-either helped me a lot with the last bit of this fic and @intricatecakes is very likely to put me in angst jail for this. I refuse to be sorry.

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

“It wasn’t long after the merge. The final eight Survivors were split up into groups of four for a reward challenge, chosen by drawing colored rocks. Fennec, Boba, Din, and Cobb had ended up on the same team - Fennec and Boba rolling their eyes impossibly hard as the two younger men smiled brightly at each other.

“You’ve chosen your teams. Want to know what you’re playing for?” Jeff asked with a grin. When all the contestants nodded excitedly, he clapped his hands together. “By now, I know you would all like a nice break from the game. There are beautiful waterfalls just on the next island over. Winners of today’s challenge will take a boat over to see one of them.” There was ooh-ing and ah-ing amongst the Survivors. “And- because you’re all hungry, and I’m sure missing the states at this point- a BBQ. Hamburgers, hotdogs, chips, the whole deal.”

Din laughed as Cobb excitedly wrapped his arm around his shoulder and gently shook him.

“And one final thing,” Jeff began again. He pulled a cloth off of the table revealing a stack of brown envelopes. “Letters from home.”

Cobb stiffened quickly, his smile dropping. Din found it impossible to miss the look of near pity that Jeff threw to Cobb. He watched Cobb give a short nod in return as he pulled his arm off of Din’s shoulders.

“You okay?” Din whispered, leaning close to him. “Letters from home, that sounds amazing! I’m sure everyone back home misses you a lot.”

Cobb cleared his throat and forced a smile, one that quickly turned genuine when he met Din’s eyes. “Yeah,” he choked out, “I’m sure you’re excited to hear from your son.”

“Kiddin’?” Din scoffed out, looking away. “I miss him like crazy. Meanwhile, I’m sure he’s having the time of his life with his aunt.”

“Nah,” Cobb shook his head. “He misses you. And I’m positive you got a letter in there from him tellin’ you as much. Which is why,” he nudged Din’s shoulder to make him look at him again, “we gotta win this one.”

Din had the brightest smile Cobb had ever seen him give as they lined up to begin the challenge. It filled Cobb with the sort of energy that he felt like he could run a marathon. Which was kind of what they had to do, run a marathon- in an oval- in the water- carrying 20 pounds of sand each.

"For reward:," Jeff called from his tower at the center of the oval, "a taste from home with a BBQ by a waterfall and letters from home. Survivors, ready!"

Din and Cobb shared a smile of good luck as they had during every pause before they started a challenge since the merge. It always gave Cobb a lot of hope.

"Go!"

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

"Cobb, Din, Fennec, and Boba win reward!" Jeff called as Fennec managed to tag a member of the other team.

Cobb cheered loudly in Din's ear as he threw his arms around his neck with a bounce. Din stumbled backwards with a laugh, wrapping his arms tightly around Cobb's waist. He buried his face in Cobb's neck, taking a deep and calming breath.

The promise of good food, a letter from his son, two of the best friends he had ever made, and the man who had somehow managed to win his heart. What could be a better afternoon?

The other half of the tribe was dismissed back to camp. The four friends boarded the small boat, Jeff following in behind them, stack of everyone's letters in hand. It was a quiet trip and Cobb was thankful for it. It gave him a chance to breathe and enjoy the feeling in his chest when Din slowly slid their hands together, interlocking their fingers. Cobb gave a soft squeeze which earned him a smile in return.

They were at the island far too quickly for either of their likings and everyone was leaving the boat.

"Before you go," Jeff said, separating the first few letters from the stack. "Letters from home, you can either share these with each other or keep them to yourselves." Fennec gave a small laugh of joy which made everyone chuckle. She was normally so serious.

"You'll notice, however," he continued, "there's only three letters here." He passed the stack of letters over to Boba who took them questioningly. Jeff turned to Cobb, the same look of pity on his face that he had before the challenge. "Cowboy, I'm sorry to say we didn't get a letter for you. I'm not sure if it just wasn't sent in on time or what happened, but I'm sorry."

Cobb nodded, straightening his shoulders. He tried to focus on Din's hand on his shoulder and not on Fennec and Boba's apologies towards him.

Jeff nodded and clapped his hands together. "You four enjoy your reward. See you at the next challenge!"

And then Jeff was gone and the four friends were left to walk the trail to the waterfall. Because it wasn't wide enough to walk even two across, Cobb let the three of them take the lead, choosing to stay a couple paces behind Din. He tried not to pay mind to the way Din glanced at him over his shoulder. He tried not to care that he had the same look of pity that Jeff had given him and, for the first time ever, Cobb wished he hadn't been voted back into the game. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have made it to this challenge and wouldn't have to be attempting to ignore looks and words of pity.

The sight of the waterfall was a welcomed one indeed. The four Survivors stopped and gazed at it, eyes wide, truly thrilled for the first time in so long.

Once sat around a small picnic bench, food laid out in front of them, Boba jumped right into strategy. The game never really stops. Cobb was the "outsider" of the tribe. All but Boba from the old Marseydotes tribe hated him because he got voted back in, while most of the old Noyapara tribe wasn't thrilled that he pulled Din into a separate alliance. Boba, Fennec, and Din all firmly believed Cobb could win the whole game and had decided right at the merge that they were going to make it happen. It was almost all Boba would talk about at this point.

Once the latest game plan was decided, the four of them fell into silence. Cobb knew that he didn't have it in him to keep them from the part of the reward they truly wanted to take part in. Everyone watched quietly as he stood and gave a small smile. "I'm gonna go up the trail a bit more, look around." He gave a small awkward wave up towards the waterfall. "You guys do your thing," he sighed, now gesturing at the stack of letters on the table.

Without meeting any of their eyes, he quickly walked away from the table and started up the path. He was happy that they all got their letters. But it still hurt.

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

Din found Cobb sitting on a rock at the top of the waterfall, fiddling with his scarf. He took the moment of being hidden from Cobb's sight to appreciate the way the sun hit his skin and the soft breeze pushed his hair to the wrong side.

He sighed softly and walked slowly to join him. He took a seat next to him and the rock and bumped his shoulder, which got him a chuckle.

"You didn't have to leave," Din commented quietly.

Cobb let out a shaky sigh. "I know. But you guys weren't going to open the letters unless I did."

"You know us too well." Din turned and looked up at Cobb who was only giving him a side glance. After a moment of silence, Din finally risked saying what was on his mind, "Jeff said it probably got lost in the mail or-"

"Nobody wrote to me," Cobb interrupted, taking his eyes off Din and putting them back on the scenery. He heard Din sigh beside him and could almost feel the questions that were surely running through his mind. Cobb took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I didn't have anyone to write me anything."

Din watched as Cobb's fingers tightened around his scarf the way he did when he was nervous at tribal council. He slowly raised his hand and brushed his fingers lightly along Cobb's. He smiled when Cobb quickly let go of his scarf in favor of Din's hand.

Cobb knew he could let it go. Din wasn't going to push him for any more answers than he was willing to give. He could leave it at that and they could get on with the game and Din didn't need to know. But it was Din. He was the most understanding person Cobb had ever met. If he couldn't tell Din the full truth, who could he tell?

With another deep breath, Cobb continued, and Din listened carefully, his thumb running along the side of Cobb's hand softly. "My parents aren't around anymore. They died a few years ago. I was an only child so it’s not like I had any siblings to write to me. The only real friends I have are at work and I lied to be able to get time off to come here so I couldn't tell any of them where I was going."

"So nobody knows you're out here?"

"Nobody but the show crew and the 15 other players," Cobb mumbled with a nod. He finally opened his eyes and turned to look at Din, expecting to see the pity. But instead all he saw was love.

Din tilted his head a little. "Why the confused look?"

"You-" Cobb stopped and shifted how he was sitting, facing Din more straight on. "You get it," he stated simply, knowing Din would understand.

And he did. Din nodded with a soft smile. "My parents died when I was a kid. Grogu is the only family I've ever truly known."

Cobb gave Din's hand a small squeeze and smiled, admiring the way Din's eyes always lit up when he talked about his son. "Did he write to you?"

Din grinned and nodded. "Yeah, Peli helped a lot, he's just learning to write. He drew some pictures too which were cute." Din's smile drooped a little and he looked away back over the waterfall as he realized he could have just answered Cobb with a "yes" and it would've been preferable. He couldn't imagine Cobb really wanted to hear Din go on about his son's letter right then.

"Could I see it?" Cobb asked, nudging his shoulder with a smile.

Din snapped his gaze back to Cobb, surprised. When he saw the soft look Cobb was giving him, he breathed a sigh of relief knowing he hadn't said the wrong thing. He nodded and pulled the folded up papers from his back pocket. He unfolded them carefully and passed them over to Cobb who took them and scooted closer to Din.

Their legs were pressed together as Cobb opened the papers. Din wrapped his arms around Cobb's middle and rested his chin on his shoulder, allowing him to look again at the letter.

The letter was written in green crayon which made Cobb chuckle, remembering Din mentioning Grogu's obsession with green. It was shaky handwriting but surprisingly readable. On the second page were small doodles of Grogu and Din and a few of Din on the island.

Cobb smiled and he refolded the papers and handed them back to Din. "He seems like a really sweet kid," he spoke softly. He turned his head just enough to place a small kiss to Din's cheek. His smile widened when Din turned and nuzzled his nose into Cobb's neck.

"He's going to love you," Din replied, voice muffled against Cobb's scarf.

Cobb froze for a moment, wondering if he had heard him right. They had never talked about what would happen after the game was over.

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

That night, Din and Cobb laid together in the shelter. They had spent every night since the merge cuddled close to each other and this night was no different. Cobb had his chest resting on Din's chest, listening to his heartbeat. He was sure that Din was asleep already, as most of the players were, but Cobb was wide awake thinking of Din and the game.

Would they still be together when the game ended? Were they together even now? Pairs can make it to the final two, but lovers can only go so far in this game before they have to decide if a potential relationship is worth a million dollars. But Cobb also knew that neither of them were in it for the money. Cobb just wanted an adventure and Din just wanted to make his son happy. Cobb supposed that was going to be something they would have to talk about sooner or later.

For now, he supposed, he could just be content knowing that he was in Din's arms and cared for in the moment.

But what Cobb didn't know was that Din was also awake, and thinking of Cobb, but not the game.

He was picturing loading Grogu into the car for a road trip to go see Cobb once the game was over. He was sure that Grogu was going to love him and not because Grogu loves everyone. Cobb was funny and smart and Grogu was going to adore that. He knew his son would hear him talk and ask him if he's a cowboy which will likely make Cobb laugh. Cobb would probably say yes just to amuse him.

He knew they hadn't talked about what would happen after the game. But he knew that he cared for Cobb so much that there was no way he was letting this relationship be just during the game, even if it meant not winning. He didn't really care about the money anyways, but he knew Cobb did, even though he wouldn't admit it even to himself. Din saw the way he talked about wanting to open up a photography studio and he knew the money would help him with that.

In the cold air of the night on a nearly deserted island, his arm tightly wrapped around Cobb while the other man traced soft patterns on his shoulder, Din made his decision on two accounts. He wasn't letting Cobb go so easily. And he would take the fall if it meant Cobb had a chance of winning this game.

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

Four tribal councils later, they were down to the final four. Boba had won immunity and, as a group, they had decided they would tie the vote between Cobb and Din. Or, that's what was discussed in the open. Before the day was over, Din pulled Fennec aside and told her what was really going to happen.

"So you're screwing me," Fennec nearly yelled. She was furious. "I don't have a chance in Hell if you quit."

"I'm not quitting, Fennec! Don't you think I've thought this through?" Din ran a hand through his hair and sighed when Fennec didn't answer.

"They're gonna kill me when we get back to camp," she whispered. "I'm the next one to go."

"No, I'm a sympathy vote. Tell them that, it’s the truth. You three have pissed off a lot of people these last few weeks. A teacher who's a single dad with a young kid sounds like a better winner of a million dollars, if you ask me." Fennec stayed silent. "Hey," Din whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. "If we tie, and we draw rocks, there's a chance it’s you going home tonight too. This way, you have a third of a chance of winning rather than a third of a chance of going home."

She scoffed. "I still have a third of a chance of going home."

"Then win immunity." He sighed deeply. "Look, you’re my friend, and me and Cobb, we’re- well, I’m not exactly sure what we are. If you win, if Cobb wins- I'll be happy. I just want to see people I feel deserve to be up there winning the prize."

“If we make it to the final two, you’d have to choose between me and him,” Fennec pointed out.

Din sighed. “I know, and it will be the hardest decision I’ve ever made.”

She pulled him into a tight hug. “You’re gonna vote for him,” she whispered.

“Fennec let’s just-”

“Din.” She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “If you end up on the jury and he doesn’t. Regardless of who is sitting next to him, you are going to vote for him, do you understand?”

Din could just nod and give her another hug before they broke apart and headed back for camp. They had to prepare for tribal council.

That night, Cobb and Boba voted for Din, Din voted for Cobb, like they had planned. And-

"Eleventh person voted out, and the sixth member of our jury: Din. That's three, that's enough, you need to bring me your torch."

Din grabbed his bag and shook Boba's hand. He kissed Fennec on the cheek and finally turned to Cobb who stood. The betrayal was written clear on his face and it broke Din's heart. He was expecting a cold shoulder and was surprised to tears when Cobb threw his arms around him.

"I love you," Din whispered in his ear before pulling away quickly and grabbing his touch before Cobb had the chance to reply or even process what he’d said.

"Din," Jeff said sadly. "The tribe has spoken." Din watched his torch be snuffed and nodded. "Time for you to go."

Din turned and waved. His heart broke impossibly more when he saw Cobb wipe his eyes with his scarf. Din blew him a kiss and his eyes watered as Cobb blew one back.

He turned and walked down the steps. At least he would get to see him in the next evening where, for as much as he liked Boba, he hoped Cobb or Fennec would be the one wearing the immunity necklace.

#dincobb #marshmando #marshalorian #din x cobb #din djarin #cobb vanth #survivor au #the mandalorian #star wars #Han writes

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seokjinsdisciple · 5 years ago

Text

Welcome to Worlds - three

jinyoung x reader

(nonfamous! got7, also very much based off of pitch perfect)

requested, and will be split into three parts

warnings: unedited, mentions of public exposure, language, sub jinyoung, inexperienced jinyoung, just the usual sex stuff, idk i think thats it

word count: 2.7k

You and Jinyoung had ditched your groups after the announcement had been made. Got7 and The Silhouettes were moving onto the finals of the competition, with a disgruntled WayV and angry Ten being eliminated. None of that was on your mind now as Jinyoung led you through the streets of LA, the two of you practically running to this “fancy” restaurant.

You would have believed that he was taking you somewhere nice if you hadn’t stopped in front of a 7/11.

“Jinyoung,” you groaned, “please tell me we aren’t eating at 7/11!”

“We aren’t eating at 7/11,” Jinyoung smiled, pulling the doors to the convenience store open and grabbing your wrist, giving you no choice but to follow him into the store, “We are feasting at 7/11!”

“But why?” you asked, groaning as he pulled you down the candy aisle.

“Because there is nothing better than a personal 7/11 party. Now pick out whatever you want, it’s my treat.”

You gave up fighting with him, walking down the aisles and grabbing a few of your favorite snacks. Then you headed over to the hotdogs, grabbing one for yourself and adding condiments to it. You met Jinyoung at the counter, sheepishly putting your haul on the counter beside him.

“What?” You asked defensively as he looked pointedly at you, “You can’t come to America and not experience what it's like to eat a twinkie!”

Jinyong just laughed at you then, the two of you sitting on the curb right outside, opening your snacks and digging in.

“Are you nervous about the next round of the competition?” Jinyoung asked, mouth half full of Doritos, cheese dust covering his fingers as he looked at you.

“I guess,” you sighed, taking a sip of your water before continuing, “I just don't want another incident like last time to happen again. Plus I really wanna win.”

Jinyoung licked one of his fingers, groaning at the taste of the cheese flavoring, “If you don't want anything to happen again, you should stop wearing clothes like that,” he chuckled pointing to the cropped v-neck hoodie you were wearing. It had been pulled down slightly, exposing your cleavage more than usual.

“Stop staring at my boobs, Jinyoung,” you laughed, fixing your shirt and pushing him lightly.

You spent a few hours sitting there, and before you knew it the sky had grown dark. Jinyoung waked you back to the hotel room, insisting to escort you all the way to your room. When he left, the girls you were rooming with demanded details, screaming about the handsome man who had just dropped you off.

It was like that for the next week, you sneaking away as much as you could to spend time with Jinyoung, oftentimes at 7/11, until one of you had to practice. Both of you practiced hard, and you could tell that Jinyoung was starting to become more stressed about the competition. You were too. The time you spent with him at 7/11 felt like a whole different world, the worries and pressure the two of you felt melting away the more time you spent with him. But now there was no more time, it was the day of the final competition and Jinyoung would be heading back to Korea tomorrow morning.

You were getting ready in your dressing room, pulling your hair up to match the rest of the groups when a knock rang out at the door. One of the girls opened it, your attention only flickering to the person at the door after your groupmates started oohing. Jinyoung stood, not coming into the room, but eyes searching for yours in the doorway. His hands tightly wrapped around two slushies. You couldn’t help but grin, hurrying over to him and pushing him away from the curious eyes of your groupmates.

“Couldn’t stay away?” You laughed, grabbing your favorite flavor from him.

“I mean, this is just gonna be the last time we are able to share a slushie,” he smiled sadly, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Ahh,” you hit him gently on the chest, “don’t go soft on me now, Jinyoung. That’s not like you.”

He just stuck out his tongue at you, handing you a straw, “Do you have time to sit and drink it with me?”

“I really don’t,” you sighed, “I have to finish my make up and then we have to do warmups. We perform before you.”

“Mm, that's right,” he nodded, a sad look crossing his eyes once again, “Well, enjoy the slushie.”

“Wait- Jinyoung,” you stopped him, switching your favorite flavors for his, “that way we will be thinking of each other as we drink them.”

“I’ll always be thinking of you,” he mumbled, but you had already gone back into your dressing room, unable to hear him.

You got ready quickly, the slushie tasted good and brought a smile to your lips every time you drank it. Before you knew it, you were walking on stage with your group, lights blaring at your forms as you waited for the audience to stop clapping.

Your leader gave everyone their pitch, and the song began. The choreo this time was the most difficult it had been yet, a factor that you thought would help out your scores. Got7 had complex dances, so you needed to up yours in order to beat them.

The song was almost done, your group performing the best they ever had, and when you finished, your chest heaved. It was over, all of this was over and there was nothing you could do about the results now.

Got7 was next and when you made your way offstage Jinyoung and the rest of the boys shouted good jobs as your group replied with good lucks. You didn’t get a chance to watch their performance because you had to get ready for the results, your nerves growing as you sat in the audience. There were still 8 groups left in the competition, and they would be calling the top four groups to the stage.

You waited anxiously as the MC walked across the stage, past the trophies, and to the podium. He began his beginning speech, but your ears were ringing, anxiety skyrocketing as you awaited the groups to be called.

You smiled and cheered for the two groups who were called, jumping out of your seat as your group was called. As you were making your way to the stage, Got7 was also called, a smile growing on your face as you stood next to the other teams.

If you thought you were nervous before, you were 10x more nervous as you awaited the MC to announce what place you had gotten, hoping and praying your group had pulled off a win.

The first two groups got 3rd and 4th place, and you held your breath as the mc pulled the results from a sealed envelope.

“And second place goes to,” The MC paused, your heart beating so loudly in your chest that you swore you wouldn’t be able to hear him announce the results, “GOT7!”

You felt the girls around you start screaming, incredulous looks thrown around the girls you considered your closest friends. You had won. The Silhouettes had won, you had beat Got7.

You gripped your first place trophy, all of your members holding it above your heads as you chanted. The adrenaline of winning causing smiles, laughter, and tears to spread through the group of girls.

You had missed Jinyoung, by the time your group stopped celebrating Got7 had already returned to the hotel. Although that caused a twinge of sadness, you were too ecstatic about winning to let it get you down. Your group decided to spend time at the hotel spa in celebration of the hard work you had put in the last couple of months to get here. To be the number one acapella group in the world.

You had spent most of your time in the sauna, your groupmates long gone from the spa as you just sat and relaxed. The peace and quiet helping calm all of the wide range of emotions you were feeling.

You opened your eyes as the door to the sauna opened. A broad-shouldered man had entered, his back to you as he closed the door firmly. When he turned, he gasped. You just smiled, Jinyoung staring at you, glancing down to the towel wrapped around your body and then back up to your eyes.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” he stuttered, his grip on his towel so tight you could see the whitening of his knuckles.

“It’s a public sauna, Jinyoung,” you laughed, patting the space beside you, “I’m allowed to be in here and so are you.”

He nodded at this, loosening his grip as he walked towards you. The noise of his towel hitting the ground drew your eyes down, and then once you realized where you were looking, back up again with a cough.

“Well at least now we are even,” you said quietly, averting your eyes as he scrambled to wrap his towel around himself again. When he sat down, his face and ears were flushed so red there was no way it could be from the steam.

“What happened to confident, cocky Jinyoung, hm?” You asked, chuckling as you tried to lighten the mood. Your own thoughts drifting to dirtier places.

“I- uh,” he paused, covering his face with his hands, “A girl’s never- uh, I haven’t done anything like this,” he stuttered, his ears reddening.

You grabbed a wrist, pulling his hand down so you could see his face clearly, “Jinyoung,” you paused, glancing down at the tent that had formed in the towel that sat loosely around his waist, “Are you a virgin?”

He let his other hand drop, still not making eye contact with you as he nodded his head. You took a deep breath, your dirty thoughts coming back in full form as you slid your hand across his thigh and grabbed his length.

“No one has ever done this?” You asked, batting your eyelashes innocently as you pumped him once. His eyes shooting to your hand and then up to your eyes. He shook his head, his hands shooting up to cover his face.

“Oh no, baby,” you tsked at him dropping your hand from his length, a whine leaving his throat at the lack of contact, “Don’t hide your pretty face, love.”

He dropped his hands then, lightly dragging your hand back to his cock with one finger. Your heart fluttered, he was so cute. You opened the towel, your hand wrapping around his bare cock now, a hiss leaving his pretty lips as you pumped once. You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Is this ok with you?” you asked, “Wanna keep going?”

“Y-yes please,” he stuttered, squeezing his eyes shut when your lips wrapped around his length. You went slowly, not wanting to overwhelm him with pleasure. Knowing he’s never been touched, you had a fire in the pit of your belly. You were going to make him feel good, but you had to make sure he didn’t come too soon.

You twirled your tongue around the head of his cock, holding his other hand in your own as he started to whine. You could tell he was getting close, his hips bucking up slightly as you sucked him. Tears filled his eyes as you pulled your mouth off of him.

“Shh baby, it’s okay,” you whispered, kissing his cheeks and then his lips, “Take care of me first and then I promise you can come.”

Jinyoung nodded at you then, pouting his lips and demanding another kiss before he slid your towel off and you sat down. He pressed a tentative kiss to your nipple, and at your instruction, took it into his mouth and sucked. Jinyoung’s eyes flew to yours as you let out a low moan, his mouth doing the same thing it had just done on your other nipple. You smiled at him, his inexperienced mouth ready to explore and learn, something that made your heat pulse and your thighs sticky with something other than sweat.

“Jinyoung,” you moaned, pushing his head from your boobs down to your heat. He sat back a moment, staring intently at your core before pressing a soft kiss to your clit. When he sucked it, you jolted, pleasure filling you up as he started to lick and suck and explore. It was messy, and not at all perfect, but it didn’t matter. When he slid his finger inside you, you bucked your hips, Jinyoung looking up at you with confused eyes before quickly removing his finger.

“No- baby, it felt good,” you said, breath heaving, almost as if to test if you were lying, he inserted his finger again, a low moan erupting from your throat as he pumped it in and out of you. His long fingers hitting all of the right places.

“Good boy,” you moaned, getting too into the way Jinyoung was listening to everything you said. When he stopped, you opened your eyes and looked at him.

“M good?” he asked, eyes watery and nose running.

“Yes of course, baby, you are doing such a good job,” you praised pulling him up to your face and cupping his cheeks with your hands. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one that you returned happily.

“Wanna do more,” he whispered, burying his head into your shoulder in an attempt to hide.

“We can do more baby, don’t be shy,” you smiled, guiding him to a sitting position on the sauna bench. You pressed a gentle kiss to his nose before taking his hardness in your hand and guiding it into your heat. You took a moment to let him adjust, and for you too as well. Jinyoung was a lot bigger than anyone else you had ever slept with.

“Ready for me to start moving?” You asked, searching his face for any last reservations, seeing none and getting a little yes, you raised your hips, slamming them back to meet his own. Jinyoung absolutely lost it then, hands grabbing at your waist and ass as he whined, moaned and groaned. You kept a consistent speed, feeling his length hit places that hadn’t been hit in a long time. You moaned with him, pressing a hasty kiss to his lips as he dug his nails into your back.

You felt a tightening coil building up in your core at the sensation. Jinyoung’s moans getting more and more desperate as his mouth started sucking on your breasts again. You felt him twitch inside you, a slight bite on your nipple causing your high to come closer. You slid your hand down your torso, finding your clit and rubbing it as you continued to ride him. Jinyoung, overstimulated and whiny as he tried to get you to stop, so you did. Your core tightening and cumming around his sensitive, softening length.

He pouted, tears threatening to spill and his nose sniffling as you spasmed around him.

You pressed a soothing kiss on his temple, gently pulling yourself off of him and sitting on his lap. His arms wrapped tightly around you as he begged for more kisses.

“M gonna miss you,” he whispered, his hand pulling your head onto his broad chest.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” you whispered back, your own hand finding grip in his hair and massaging his scalp soothingly.

“Sorry for beating you,” you added, a light chuckle leaving Jinyoung’s mouth.

“We all know it's because the judges saw your boobs.”

You both laughed at that, you landing a gentle slap onto his toned chest in protest. You sat like that for a while, kissing softly and talking to each other. Your heart sunk as Jinyoung bid you goodbye at your hotel room door. Leaving a passionate kiss on your lips.

“I’ll see you at the next World’s,” you said, playing with his hand that was interlocked with your own.

“Mhm,” Jinyoung agreed easily, kissing your forehead and finally letting you go, “but just know you are getting that pretty little ass kicked.”

You smiled at that, “I guess we will have to wait and see, hm?”

#jinyoung x reader #jinyoung smut #jinyoung angst #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung scenarios #sub jinyoung #jinyoung #got7 smut #got7 fluff #got7 scenarios #got7 angst #got7 jinyoung #sub got7

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lady-of-the-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

Bitten Pt. 1

Summary: Ivy Stark met Peter Parker the day he became Spiderman

Word Count: 1,703

Warnings: None

Part 2

A/N: I think it’d be cool to start a Peter Parker Origin Series since we don’t get to see one with Tom. This is going to be part 1 because otherwise it would be so insanely long

Midtown High was the best school Ivy had ever been to. No matter how many fancy foreign boarding schools she’d attended, none had ever brought this feeling of belonging. Of course, she’d never say this out loud, it sounded cheesy enough in her head. Full disclosure, the school itself was one of the worst she'd been too, lacking a few educational tools she was now accustomed to. But then again, no other school had given her a friend like MJ.

When she arrived on the first day of freshman year, it wasn’t hard to tell who the loner was. So she took a chance. Ivy sat across from her and ate lunch in silence. The next day, she introduced herself, and asked about her drawing. And they continued on slowly like this until, finally, Ivy managed to convince her to hang out outside of school.

So today, on her first school trip, she stuck to MJ’s side like glue. The rest of the students spoke loudly to one another during the bus ride. They were cackling, throwing things, even screaming; it was almost enough to make her scream.

“Chill Ivy,” MJ spoke as she read “we’re almost there.”

“Yea, well if I have to keep hearing Eugene and Osborn rave about how their parents are never home, I might just snap. I mean come on it’s just sad, not brag worthy.”

MJ didn’t reply, but Ivy could see the corner of her lip turn up in a slight smirk. Silence fell between them, but Flash and Harry were still bragging, and loudly. She shoved two earbuds in and turned the volume up until the music was all she could hear.

Ivy could understand why Harry felt the need to boast about his father, after all it was his lab that you were going to visit. His father was a renowned scientist, almost as well known as her own father, hell she'd even met him once or twice. But Flash simply felt the need to remind everyone that he had the ability to throw parties.

When the bus finally pulled to a stop and everyone stepped off, she breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Harrington was being paid to chaperone this particular trip. Ivy remembered him as the teacher in charge of MJ’s debate team, he’d always seemed nice. Mr. Harrington counted the group to be sure everyone was there, then instructed that they would be waiting for Mr. Osborn to grant everyone access to the building.

Ivy stood to the side with MJ, away from the other kids. They both leaned on the bus and let themselves zone out. The loud noises that erupted from the other students broke her focus and her head snapped toward them instinctively. They were clearly laughing, Flash leading them all. A kid stood across from him, standing awkwardly and avoiding eye contact. The boy beside him seemed to be having an inner conflict with himself, opening his mouth every so often as if to speak before closing it abruptly.

“What’s going on?” She asked MJ.

“I assume Flash being a dick again.”

“Who’re those kids?” MJ looked up toward the group.

“Peter Parker and Ned Leeds, they’re on the debate team.”

“Why is everyone laughing at them?”

The group erupted in laughter once more and She tried harder to listen in. Ivy could vaguely make out the words ‘Penis Parker’. Now that really pissed her off. Without hesitation she moved toward the group, shouldering people on her way. Flash smiled at her and Peter looked up, shocked, before reverting his eyes back to the floor.

“Hey Eve, what’s up?”

“Whatcha doing Eugene?” Ivy asked, standing between him and Peter.

“Just talking to Parker here, wanna join?” He chuckled.

“No, I’ve got more important things to do.”

She turned to Peter and his friend who stared at her in confusion. Peter didn’t look up until she was standing directly in front of him, and he looked more surprised than ever. Ivy smiled as kindly as she could before speaking.

“Wanna come hang out with us?”

“I-Who’s us?”

“You’ll see, plus I promise we won’t be assholes like Eugene and Osborn.”

She nodded for him to follow and took a few slow steps before he began to move, his friend in tow. A few scowls here and there, the occasional light push, and the other kids got out of their way. They took their place beside MJ who didn’t bother to look up, and Ivy blew Flash a kiss. She turned and held out her hand for Peter to take.

“Hey, I’m Ivette Stark, but you can call me Ivy.”

“Oh my gosh,” his eyes went wide as he took your hand “you’re Tony Stark’s daughter. I - I knew you went to our school but I never thought I’d actually meet you this is so - wow!”

“It’s not a big deal.” She laughed.

“I’m Ned.” His friend announced and shook her hand.

“It’s really great to meet you guys. Excited about the trip?”

“Yea,” Peter nodded “I think it’ll be really cool to see some of Mr. Osborn’s work.”

“Yea he’s a really smart man, it’ll be fun — for people who like science at least.”

She and Peter continued on like this, talking about science and her father’s work until Mr. Henderson announced that Mr. Osborn was ready. Ivy could tell Peter was wonderstruck the moment they stepped through the doors. The building was full of neutral colors, the only things truly drawing the eye being the machines and experiments out for display. The large windows on the high ceilings allowed light to stream in freely. With the white walls and floors, it was like walking into heaven.

Mr. Osborn stood waiting for them by the front desk, hands clasped firmly together and a wide smile adorning his features. He looked young for his age, and most girls in the group certainly noticed. They hung to his every word, though Ivy was sure that if anyone asked they’d have no clue what he’d been saying.

“I’m very excited to have all of you here today,” He began “especially my son, Harry. I hope you all enjoy your visit here today and that it teaches you something. We’ll be splitting you all into three groups for the day to make it easier on your guides who are standing behind me, ready to take you. Please, enjoy your time.”

With one last smile, this time directed at his son, he turned on his heel and walked off. The class began to split into groups in front of each tour guide. Ivy stuck with MJ and pulled Ned and Peter with them. A few other kids joined their group, and when everyone was accounted for, their guide launched into the speech he’d rehearsed. Ivy paid no attention, after all it wasn’t her first tour. Instead she looked toward the experiments on display. There were a few animals and insects they’d used in testing now sitting in glass cases, resting on white podiums. She was more than a little tempted to wander off and look at them for a while, but the guide began to walk and Peter was kind enough to help keep her with the group.

The guide rambled on about how secure the building was, and how famous the scientists were. MJ was taking the time to read — she’d been on a tour with the Starks before — while Peter and Ned were focused intently. Ivy got bored fast, the only things that managed to catch her eye were the locked doors she'd never been through. She made a mental note to convince her dad to take her inside some time.

“You alright?” Peter asked.

“Yea,” Ivy reassured him “just bored I guess.”

“I thought you were excited for the trip.” He questioned.

“Yea, but I thought I’d get some time to walk around and explore, I didn’t think I’d just be taking the tour for the fourth time. Not to sound spoiled or anything, I’m really lucky to have gotten to come here so many times, I just-”

Peter cut her off quickly.

“I don’t think you’re spoiled, I-I think it’s really cool that you wanna explore and stuff. It’s an interesting place.”

She nodded at his words, happy he didn’t think less of her for complaining. An idea began to form in her mind as she looked at him and took a quick glance toward the guide. He was immersed in a conversation with one of the girls in their group about the steps it would take to get an internship. Stepping over to MJ, Ivy whispered her plan in her ear, and moved away when she nodded her understanding.

“Don’t get caught.” She replied.

“Don’t worry, I will.”

She let Ned know what was going on as well, not leaving him much time to question her. Before he could speak Ivy grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled him in the opposite direction. They walked casually but quickly down the hallway, careful not to draw the attention any others walking around. When they made it to the display section she headed directly for the case of frogs she’d initially seen. She stood in silence with Peter as they stared, the silence broken when he cleared his throat. She looked toward him, concerned, as his face was a bright red.

“Are you okay?”

“I…well our hands…never mind. The frogs are really cool, what does it say about them?”

The displays were a hundred times more fun than the tour. They looked in on all the creatures Osborn had collected and read about what testing had been done on them. The effects were not visible, but they’d been described in great detail on plaques beside each display. They stood, staring at a case of spiders, and Peter spoke in length about all the things he believed the spider could be used for. After a bit though even the displays lost their appeal. Ivy knew the tour would likely take another half hour, so she figured they had time for food.

“What would you say to getting a hotdog from one of the vendors outside?” She asked.

“I would say we should get pizza instead.” He stated, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re a smart boy, let’s go.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker x you #Peter Parker Imagine #Peter Parker fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #Fandoms #spiderman #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman x stark!reader #peterparker #peter parker x stark!reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #origin story

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