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doctenwho · 3 years ago

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Man (and TARDIS)’s Best Friend

Hey! Thanks so much for the request, I had a lot of fun with this one! Most of the dogs in this fic are either dogs I had when I was little (and currently) and a few are my friend’s dogs.

The TARDIS being a troublemaker is my new favorite thing, so hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,700

Summary: Check out the prompt above :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the rightful creator!)

In your defense, things had probably gotten out of hand. You really hadn’t meant for it to happen, for one to turn into two, two into three and... well, three into seven.

It really had started with one.

Just a few weeks ago. You were on earth, which, for it being your home planet, you didn’t tend to spend much time around anymore. You and the Doctor hadn’t exactly split up, but he’d left you to your own devices while he went off doing whatever it was he was doing on earth. The man had an agenda, and earth was the only place you didn’t mind being by yourself on.

It was later in the evening, street lights illuminating the darkness around you as you strolled. It was nice to just be back on earth for a while, where you knew the terrain, and the people. Where things weren’t completely surprising, or shocking.

You’d been so caught up in your own head as you wondered around, you’d barely noticed the creature cowering on the sidewalk that you tripped over. The creature whimpered, and winced down, and it instantly broke your heart.

You’d always been an animal person, sympathizing with those neglected, or abandoned, or abused. You couldn’t imagine ever intentionally hurting, or leaving a pet alone, so this was hard to see.

The dog, you realized, stared at you fearfully. Cowering down like you were going to hit it. It was an older dog, dirty and scruffy, some kind of shih-tzu mutt if you were to guess. Its fur was matted, clearly left to on his own for a while at this point.

You didn’t even want to think about what this dog had been through, just from his attitude towards humans, as well as it’s neglected state. He’d obviously been abandoned—maybe grown too old and lost that cute ‘puppy’ image that some people craved. The thought disgusted you.

The poor little guy was skin and bones, shivering where he was tucked in on himself despite his coat of matted fur that was probably too warm for even the late-night chill.

You knew you couldn’t leave him. Not in good conscious. He obviously needed someone—he needed a person to care for him, and do the right thing for him, which is... well, it’s how you found yourself sneaking into the TARDIS with the poor little dog swaddled in your sweater.

The Doctor wasn’t much of an animal person. He’d never outright said it, but you’d never really seen him interacting with creatures. Not like how a human would love and care for a stray dog, or cat. He never seemed the type.

You weren’t sure how he was going to react to the dog.

You moved swiftly through the TARDIS, your little companion wiggling in your grip as you snuck through the TARDIS halls. You weren’t even sure if the Doctor was in, or out.

“(Y/N)?” His voice called from behind you. The bundle in your arms froze, as did you as you debated your options. You were a ways away from your bedroom—the safety of it where you could clean up the little dog and think of a better plan than to be caught in the hallway with a stowaway in the Doctor’s space and time machine.

The Doctor’s steps were approaching, following behind you. He was so close. You turned to look behind you, afraid he’d catch up and you’d have to explain the dog so soon. You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking about making a break for it as you turned forwards again--

And there before you, was a doorway. Which didn’t make sense, because you’d been in the hallway, at least twenty steps away from your bedroom door, if not more. You knew for a fact there wasn’t any doorways for a while, because this corridor often felt endless. You looked around in confusion, frowning to yourself as you let your hand settle on the doorknob.

“(Y/N)?” The Doctor called again, confused, and so much closer than before. You barely had a second thought as you pulled the door open, tumbling in as your feet moved before your brain could process the action.

The door shut behind you, which you had absolutely no part in as you tried to finally catch your footings, arms securing around the bundled dog. It was only when you looked up to see where you ended up that you realized you were in you room.

It didn’t make a lick of sense, but you were quick to settle the dog into your closet as you heard steps approaching, managing to jump onto the bed and pretend to be reading a book that was on your bedside table just as the door opened.

The Doctor furrowed his brows at you, gaze looking from the book in your hands, up to your face in confusion, “I could’ve sworn I just saw you returning to the TARDIS,” the Doctor commented, voice almost distasteful as he eyed you.

“Nope,” you forced out, hoping you didn’t sound as much like you were hiding something as you did to your own ears, “been here a while, Doctor.”

The man casted his eyes around the room again, looking for anything out of the ordinary, before he settled on you again, clearly coming up short.

“Uh huh, well, we’ll be leaving shortly if you’re good to go?” he blinked, leaning just the slightest bit against the doorframe, and giving the room another thoughtful onceover.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered out, cursing your anxious nerves internally before flashing the man a grin to hide you panic.

“Alright, well,” The Doctor frowned as he moved to pull the door shut behind him. He paused before it shut, standing for a second before he spoke again, “I was unaware humans could read upside down.”

The door clicked shut, and it was only then you let out a breath, eyes snapping down to the book you were indeed holding upside down. You groaned to yourself as you righted the book before dropping it back on the bedside table annoyed at that tiny detail that could’ve ruined it all.

You pushed yourself off the bed, moving swiftly to the closet where you pulled the door open and smiled down at the nervous little dog. He was still mostly wrapped in your sweater, but his head and shoulder were exposed.

“C’mon,” you offered your arms, “let’s get you clean up, huh?”

The dog only hesitated for a second before moving close enough for you to pick up. You cradled him in your arms, pressing your cheek against his head as you stared up at the ceiling for a second.

You weren’t entirely sure what had happened just then, but you know one thing. You definitely hadn’t done it alone.

“Thank you,” you smiled up to the ceiling, knowing exactly who’d helped you protect the little dog.

----

You’d given the little dog the name Teddy. He’d been a nervous wreck when you’d been snipping away at his matted fur with the scissors in your bathroom, but he’d warmed up to you a lot while you bathed him warm water with a sweet-smelling dog shampoo that was, confusingly enough, hidden away in the bathroom cabinet.

The name had only really come to be when bedtime rolled around, and you found yourself with a cuddly, snuggly little dog tucked in your arms. It was like snuggling with a teddy bear, and you couldn’t imagine naming him anything else as you stroked his ears as he slept.

You really had just meant to leave it at Teddy, and see how long you could get away with hiding him away in your room. You snuck him food from the kitchen, set down a bowl of water in the bathroom, as well as a bowl of kibble that you had absolutely no idea where it had come from. You suspected the TARDIS helping you out where she could, and the thought made you smile.

It was almost a game at this point, and it was a funny thought that it appeared to be you and the TARDIS against the Doctor. Finally, the odds seemed a bit more well-rounded.

Hunny and Saidy had come into your life unexpectedly.

You knew the two German Shepherd Rottweiler mixes well. You’d gotten the call from your friend, the one who owned the two, that she could no longer keep them. She was being evicted, and it was quite hard to find a flat that would allow someone to have two medium-big sized dogs.

You knew you really shouldn’t take them—but you knew the girls, and they loved you, and the thought of them being rehomed, or given to the pound or something else just because no one wanted to take them made a weight settle in your stomach. The thought of them being separated tore at your heart.

You weren’t sure where you were going to keep them, as you walked into the TARDIS holding both a pink and purple lead as you led them into the time and space machine. The girls were quiet, silent besides their paws tapping on the floor, as well as their panting as you led them along.

You bit your bottom lip as you opened your door, stepping in quickly as you ushered them in, before closing the door and leaning your back against it. When you looked up, your jaw dropped.

Your room was double the size it had been before. Three food bowls, and three dog beds—one small, and two big enough for Hunny and Saidy to sprawl out on. It warmed your heart to see, the effort the TARDIS was going through to make room for the dogs was honestly adorable.

There’d been that inkling of worry that you wouldn’t have enough room to house these dogs and that you’d need to start rehoming them.

You grinned up at the ceiling, “you go, TARDIS,” you laughed out as you kneeled to scratch at both Hunny and Saidy, then, to the dogs, you continued, “welcome home, girls.”

Teddy wagged his tail happily from the bed, hopping down to greet the new dogs, and you were overjoyed to see them all getting along.

----

Gizmo was not a dog. Well, he wasn’t an earth dog, at least. You and the Doctor had been on a planet in a universe you hadn’t even known existed when the two of you stumbled upon a pack of little creatures.

They were babies, you could see.

You’d never seen anything quite like them. They were tiny—like teacup chihuahuas, fluffy like them too. They were a bit bigger than palm sized, and you were sure they didn’t weigh much more than half a pound, if that. They almost... well, they kind of resembled dragons too. It was like an earth dog and a dragon procreated.

Their colours were vibrant, an orange one with purple markings, a green one with red patches. One tri-coloured one, which was two different shades of blue with patches of white.

They were rainbow chihuahua-dragon hybrids.

The babies flocked around you and the Doctor, attempting to crawl up your shins. They made little sounds of excitement, not quite a bark, but close enough, and you instantly fell in love with them.

“Awh!” You swooned, kneeling down so the small creatures could finally make their way up you. You’d learned early on to only be afraid of things if the Doctor appeared to be afraid of it—or if it was threatening you with weaponry, or violence. The Doctor never really seemed afraid of that. “What are they?”

“Tricos,” the Doctor huffed, crouching down so he was lower, but not quite at an angle for the little creatures to crawl on him. “They’re easily domesticated creatures, but are more-so viewed as nuisances by the locals.”

You frowned, looking down at all the little faces. They didn’t act much different than puppies on earth would. “Why do the locals not like them? They’re like little dragon-dogs—look at how cute!” You grabbed the blue and white one under the arms and hoisted him up for the Doctor to see his face.

“Well,” the Doctor clicked his tongue, crinkling his nose at the little Trico, “They’re scavengers. Like earth raccoons and rodents. Besides, they don’t quite have the intelligence for violence, so they’re pretty low on the food chain. Some locals have domesticated them, but lots don’t want to put in the effort.”

“Well,” you stuck your bottom lip out in a pout, “I like them.”

“I know,” the Doctor’s smile was small, his hand reaching out to stoke one of the Trico’s backs, before he was standing up again, “well, c’mon then. We can stay here all day. There’s things to be done.”

You pouted, taking the Trico’s off your lap one by one, petting them before settling them on the ground before you were standing as well, ducting yourself off. You looked back at them, frowning as you waved before you followed after the Doctor.

It was only when you were tucked away in your room that evening, surrounded by Teddy, Saidy and Hunny that you noticed the sweater you’d shrugged off and tossed onto your bed shift as if something was in it. You froze, watching the sweater move, as the dogs around you growled—Teddy being the only one confident enough to draw closer.

Your heart stopped for just a second as Teddy sniffed the sweater, only to cry out in surprise as the little blue and white Trico’s head peeked out from under the folds of the sweater, tiny tail wagging against the weight of the sweater.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you laughed away the fear, sliding off the bed to kneel beside the sweater. The Trico’s nose pushed into your cheek, before it gave you a lick like earth dogs did when they liked someone. “Have you been hanging on all day?” You asked, knowing the creature wouldn’t respond now that his attention was locked onto Teddy, who was reversing cautiously towards the girls.

“It’s alright,” you hushed the dogs, offering your palm to the Trico; the little creature didn’t hesitate for a second before pulling himself up, tail whipping back and forth happily as he did so—and you could see a bit of the lack of intelligent the Doctor had mention, but it just warmed your heart. “It’s okay.”

The dogs took the evening to get used to the little Trico who you named Gizmo. You’s fallen asleep boxed in by German Rotties, with Teddy tucked against your side, and the tiny little Trico snuggled up on your chest.

That following morning, you found a book on Trico knowledge and care instructions on your bedside table and whispered a hushed thank you to the TARDIS as you propped it open and read about the newest addition to your dog pack.

----

After the Trico, you weren’t entirely sure how you’d managed to find Chloe, Bella and Cohen. They were a package deal, Chloe, an older Pitbull, who’d trailed behind you, hesitant but trusting all the same as if you gave off some kind of calming pheromone that attracted dogs in need. She walked slow with Bella and Cohen following behind her like ducklings.

Bella was a French bulldog, and you weren’t entirely sure why someone would abandon such an expensive dog so young, but you’d taken her in easily. Cohen was the smallest of the three, a chihuahua mix that pressed in tight against the Pitbull.

They were all strays down on earth, and you’d just happened to stumble upon them while the Doctor was chasing some alien criminal around for the safety of earth. You almost felt bad sneaking away to lead the trio of dogs into the TARDIS where she welcomed them with open arms, and three additional dog bowls, and a huge cushion that the three of them could curl up on.

“I knew you were up to something,” You spun quickly, mouth dropped in a hurried attempt to get something out as the Doctor stood with his arms crossed in the doorway, scowl on his face.

Before you could say anything, your bedroom door slammed shut, much to your own surprise, and the Doctor’s as well, who you could hear jumping back in shock.

“TARDIS,” you gasped, attention shooting up to the ceiling.

“(Y/N),” The Doctor’s voice travelled through the door, as the knob turned but wouldn’t open. “What in the world?”

You almost would’ve laughed if you weren’t busy ushering all the dogs into your adjoining bathroom and closing them in. You tried to make yourself look natural, standing awkwardly in front of your bathroom door, and it was only then that your bedroom door finally open, the Doctor stumbling in like it had pushed open as he’d been leaning on it.

“What,” he gasped out as he tried to regain his footings, “is going on here?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked out.

You’d known that at some point you wouldn’t be able to hide the dogs anymore. You knew the Doctor was clever, and you were actually a bit surprised it had taken him this long to figure you out. But that didn’t mean you weren’t afraid that it was happening now—you'd been holding on the idea that it would happen eventually.

The Doctor stepped more into the room so he couldn’t be locked out again, where he eyed everything in your room, his gaze settled on the dog beds and food bowls. His gaze raised from the beds and dishes to your face, where his features were unreadable.

He was a smart man, so he obviously knew what he was looking at when he asked: “what’s all this?”

You couldn’t seem to come up with a logical explanation besides the truth. But you still stuttered over your words.

“What’s in the bathroom?” the Doctor asked calmly, stepping closer to you, as you stepped back, blocking the bathroom door more urgently.

“W-what bathroom?” You asked dumbly, but to your surprise, the Doctor’s eyebrows shot up as he angled his head to look around you. You turned to look back at the door, stumbling away as you blinked at the now vacant bathroom entry. You gaped, glancing towards the ceiling before focusing back on where the bathroom should be.

The TARDIS never ceased to amaze you.

The Doctor’s face was pressed into a look of uncertainty as he stared at where the bathroom door should be. It was the most shocked you’d seen the Doctor in all the time you’d known him. His gaze fluttered in your direction, where his eyes narrowed on your shoulder, “that’s a Trico on your shoulder.”

It wasn’t a question. You hand flew up, where it indeed settled on the tiny little creature. You groaned aloud as Gizmo made a similar noise. You should’ve known he was going to cling to your clothes as you tried to get them all into the bathroom—that was how he found himself a home here.

“I knew I heard barking,” the Doctor’s eyes blinked rapidly like he was trying to understand, “and it certainly wasn’t him—” the Doctor’s gaze settled on the Trico, “what else do you have in here?”

You let out a long sigh, moving towards where the bathroom door should be. “The jig is up,” you called loudly, and almost immediately; the bathroom door was back. You ignored the mystified look on the Doctor’s face as you pulled the door open and the dogs all trotted out, barely batting an eye at the Doctor’s shock.

“You’ve brought dogs into my TARDIS,” the Doctor had a distant look in his eyes, “my TARDIS helped you hide these dogs from me. How did you turn my TARDIS against me?”

“I didn’t turn her against you,” you huffed, voice bordering on annoyed, “she just has a soft spot for dogs, I guess.”

You instantly felt bad, swallowing before you mended your words, “it really did start with just one, and then... well, how can you say no to them? Look at their little faces. And... I think the TARDIS really likes them too, because she’s been helping me out.”

“You stole a Trico--”

“Hey!” You frowned, “technically, the Trico stole himself. I didn’t know he was clinging to my sweater when we returned, he was just there. Look... I’m sorry.”

The dogs had all mad their way up to the bed, laying and watching the exchange. The little Trico though, refused to move from your shoulder. “They all just needed a place to be, like... like I did too when you found me. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” the Doctor’s voice was low, “frankly, I’m just a bit confused about why the TARDIS is so keen on these pets.”

“She’s a dog person—err, uhm, a dog time and space machine?”

The Doctor let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I suppose she is. She’s always had a soft spot for misfits.”

The Doctor doesn’t look unhappy, or upset. He looks thoughtful as his gaze sweeps over the dogs, lingering on both you and the Trico before he’d looking back to the earth dogs, “quite the collection.”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “so, uh, can we... can we keep them?”

“How long have they been here?”

“Teddy- the uh, the little white one- has been here about a month. Since that earth visit.”

“A month,” the Doctor’s face scrunched up, almost in disbelief, “I don’t see why not then. I doubt I have to tell you they’re your responsibility, which I’m sure isn’t a problem considering they already have been for an upwards of a month, right?”

“The TARDIS has been helping too,” you remind, smile slowly crawling onto your face.

“I’m only allowing this because the TARDIS is so keen,” the Doctor informs, but you can see through his words. He always has a hard time saying no to you, the TARDIS just sealed the deal for him. “You’re lucky I love you,” his gaze casts upwards and his smile appears a little crooked, “the both of you.”

<><><><>

Trico is the name of the Last Guardian, who wasn’t quite the inspiration behind the hybrid alien dogs, but I was picturing them looking a bit like Trico as I was writing. Body wise, at least, and I’m awful at naming things, and thought Trico would be a cool species name :). I thought an alien dog would be fun, since they travel space lol

As always, if this wasn’t what you were looking for, feel free to prompt again! I hope you enjoyed, because I really enjoyed writing this one :D Thanks for taking the time to prompt, and to read my writing, it means a lot!

#Tenth Doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #ten #10 #doctor who 2005 #doctor who #TARDIS #fanfiction #fanfic #writing prompt #writing requests #dw

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millie-ionaire05 · 4 years ago

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A Shadow’s Light

Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fae AU ♕ Monarch Yoongi ♕ Fantasy AU ♕ CEO Yoongi ♕ Soulmate AU

Summary: The approaching solstice reminds Yoongi that his time for remaining Monarch without a kindred soul is running out. As each day goes by, the shadows around him become more unruly, and his emotions become harder to control. Even as his right hand, he’d never considered you as someone to court, not until he realized your light could tame the shadows. Oh, but your light brought more than that, it brought a burn that had desire curling deep within him. A desire that he won’t allow to slip away.

Word Count: 4,130

Rating/Warnings: M for Mature (+18); Monarch Yoongi; Confidant Reader; Female Reader; CEO Yoongi; Slightly Dom Yoongi(?); Office Sex; Unprotected Sex (wrap the schlong before you sit on the dong); Oral (f receiving); Fingering; Multiple Orgasms; Overstimulation; Bottom Yoongi; Top Reader; Squirting

Author’s Note: I’ve dreamed of this Yoongi quite a few times over the last few years, and so I finally decided to write it. Albeit, this is a completely shorter version than the original one I started years ago, but I think it’s fine as I ease my way back into the writing scene. Thank you so much to @dee-ehn for the amazingly beautiful banner; it’s absolutely stunning! Hope you guys like it 😊

The feel of cold paper against his fingertips is almost a welcomed reprieve compared to the monotonous drone of the head of marketing, an older man with a pinch in between his eyebrows and a smug expression. Yoongi’s mind is filled with a million other incessant thoughts, ones that are far more pressing than the steps on appealing to the board of directors.

For one, the solstice was tomorrow, and the primal hunger for a kindred soul to be at his side was becoming even more difficult to deny. He knew if he was unable to find someone this year, the Elders would begin to question whether he truly should be the Monarch for their kind. His kind. Just the notion has his wings twitching in anger before it is dwindling to a burning frustration, his fingers reflexively crumpling the edges of the paper he held.

“Sir?”

He turns merely a centimeter towards you, his eyes forcefully focusing as they make contact with your own. You seem almost taken aback by his gaze, your lips having parted and your eyes wide. He must not have realized how hard his expression had been, but he quickly softens it, a rumble of an apology carrying its way to your ears only. Your gentle eyes turn sympathetic, your mouth curling up to show a bright smile, and it almost blinds him.

It was no secret within the world of Fae that he was the first shadow chosen as Monarch, much to his surprising dismay. It was not so much a surprise that he was chosen per se, as he had been groomed for it during most of his childhood, but it was the fact that he was groomed at all that surprised him. Even as Monarch, the Fae were wary of those ‘cursed’ by the shadow. It was not only uncommon amongst their kind, but it was also dangerous if not controlled properly, and it could rarely be controlled. Before his ruling, parents would often tell stories of shadow monarchs who grew out of control, their shadow swallowing the settlement whole.

Whether parents continue to tell their children such stories is lost on him, as he very rarely is included in conversation when the settlement gets together. He wouldn’t be surprised though, as he, too, worried for the safety of everyone around him.

You on the other hand, he was the least worried about. You were the complete opposite of him, as you were blessed with the light. A rare gift. It was always said that the light could tame the shadows, but he only feared you would make his grow, like how an increase in light source could cast a stronger shadow of a human figure. Especially if it got too close.

But regardless, you were also groomed similarly to himself as a child, so that you would be by his side. A loyal….assistant….if he had to title it. You were his confidant, his right hand man (or technically woman), so to speak. The Elders had thought it wise to have you close to him, and while the thought had initially made him uncomfortable - the shadows around him twitching in disgust at the light you brought - he had grown fond of your company within the last several years. The shadows around him had ceased their fury long ago when you were near, and he was grateful for at least that respite.

“It’s quite alright, sir,” you carry on, oblivious to his internal torment. “Would you like me to escort you out of here?”

He can’t help the twitch of his lips, an eyebrow raising as he allows his body to turn towards you, his chair barely squeaking at the action. He watches the way your cheeks flushed at his stare, your eyes casting down to your lap as your fingers fiddle with non-existent lint. His eyes roam to your wings, watching how the beautiful white seems to shimmer as they fluttered slightly. He knew he could fluster you - he often found it entertaining - and quite frankly he also found it adorable. The shadows around him groan.

With a tsk, his lips twitch down, and you immediately sense his shift in emotion. You were so perceptive to him, and yet still so obliviously unaware of how his shadows reacted when you shined so bright. In those moments it was very painful, and while he could usually muster through the pain, he found that it was actually difficult for him in that second.

Fear zings through his body as his shadows laugh, their forms swiftly quivering in excitement at the thought that he wouldn’t be able to stop them, that he wouldn’t be able to prevent them from consuming what was around him. His body becomes rigid, his eyes closing as he works to compose his emotions, his mind fighting with itself as his heart thuds within his ears. He can faintly hear you calling out to him, but he is too busy focused on his task.

A sharp sting envelops his hand, and his eyes snap open to find your own hand against his, the shadows retreating to the furthest recesses opposite of your shine, and his heart stutters. Never have the shadows withdrawn so quickly, no matter how many lessons the Elder’s had given him, he has never been able to control them. Not to say they are controlled per se, because he knew they could never be controlled, but they were tamed for the moment. Your hand continues to burn against his, and he slowly pulls back from your touch, his eyes meeting yours once again.

A small nod of his head is all you need, your body instantly moving as you announce their departure, your figure guiding him back towards his office. His eyes never waver from your wings, watching how they are so delicately beautiful and white, a complete contrast to his sharp black wings. Your wings were round, many swirls intricately woven in various degrees of white, sparkling no matter what time of day. While his wings were sharp edged, and of the deepest of blacks, a color that portrayed an endless void. He’d been told, more often than not, that his wings seemed invisible if he flew around the city at night. It didn’t just stop there though, as the shadows also allowed him to blend in to the darkest corners, keeping him out of sight if he wanted.

He was such a contrast to you, not just in wing shape and color. It was normal for women’s wings to be larger than men’s, just like a female bird was larger than a male, but your wing size complimented you so well. Everything about you and your gift suited you. Your gift gave you the ability to travel at the speed of light, not that he’d ever seen you use it. He supposed there hadn’t exactly been any reason to use it, so of course he wouldn’t have seen you. Or maybe he hadn’t seen you because you were simply too quick for him to catch, he wasn’t entirely sure. He made a mental note to ask you one day.

“Would you like me to clear the rest of your day, sir?” you ask, watching him as he moves around his desk to his chair, your eyes wide with concern.

“Yes, please,” he murmurs, his eyes closing as you rattle off into your phone for all of his meetings to be cancelled.

The shadows are still in the corner of his mind, having shifted so they were completely opposite of your presence. Yoongi’s heart races with the speeds of a thousand mustangs, the beat traveling up his neck and into his ears, and he isn’t sure what to do. You had stopped the darkness, which had seemed to be even more out of control lately, but you had done it. His eyes can’t help but open to stare at you, your body now resting on the chair across his desk, completely oblivious to his gaze as you scroll through your phone.

With a simple command, he orders the shadows to close his office door and lock it, and he watches as they are quick to avert your presence and complete his task. He wonders if they fear the torture of the light again, and whether that is why they are so compliant. Nevertheless, he has an image in his mind that couldn’t be wiped, and that image was you. In all his years of life he had not looked at you in any way more than a friend, a confidant...until today.

He smirks at the way your body jumps, your head turning to see the office door closed before your gaze whips back around to look at him. He knew how you felt about him, because while he was quiet for the most part, you were like an open book. Your emotions were as plain on your eyes as your heart was on your sleeve, open and bared for him. You didn’t cower from your feelings towards him, but you also weren’t jealousy possessive when the Elders ordered him on many courtships with other women. No...you stayed by his side and supported him, even as each of them failed to subdue his darkest demons.

Slinking from his spot, he slowly makes his way around the desk, stopping until he has leaned against it in front of you. Your body instinctively shifts back against your chair as your gaze lowers, though he knows this was out of respect as the Monarch, he doesn’t want you to pull further away from him. His hand still burned at your contact, and a deep part of him begged to feel it again, begged to feel the pain.

“Stand up,” he orders, and watches with satisfaction as you instantly comply, your body a mere few inches from his.

The shadows quiver at the proximity, which only brings a shaky breath from his lips, his hand reaching forward until the tips of his fingers graze your cheek. Your eyes rise to meet his, confusion trying to mask the culmination of fear and desire he knew you felt, but the words of your open book practically scream at him. Beg him.

In one swift movement his hand grips the back of your neck, his fingers burning, but he doesn’t care as his lips meet yours. And oh, how soft your lips were against his, it had to be a crime. He had been with sparingly few people in his life, but nothing compared to how you felt against him, how your light seared him in magnificent ways. A moan escapes from your velvety lips and it can only be accompanied by the groan from his own as he shifts his head, taking advantage of the new angle to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Oh, had he known how compliant you would be under his touch, he would have tried this ages ago. So soft and supple, yet you burn hotter than a thousand suns as the shadows practically whimper at the onslaught, yet the pain was quickly becoming something he relished. Something he needed. An addiction that he wasn’t sure he would be able to fulfill. Your pretty moans only further the tingles in his body, their assault almost unnecessary since his pulsing cock was tightly confined to his work slacks, but it only furthered his need for you.

Pulling back swiftly, he practically melts at the whine that escapes from you, your gaze hazy as you stare at him in a mixture of confusion and disappointment. It almost makes him lose it. Almost.

“Please tell me you want this,” he states, his breathing heavy as his chest heaves to allow more air in, but it seems almost futile.

Your face contorts into an expression he can’t seem to understand until it shifts into understanding, a soft smile falling on your lips. Your hand comes up, cupping his cheek and his heart jumps at the contact, the burn intensifying. Your eyes silently consent, but he wants to hear you say it. No…he needs to hear you say it, and he can see it in your eyes that you know that.

“I want this,” you whisper, and that’s all he needs.

The room envelopes in a darkness like no other, the pure desperation in your eyes as he swiftly swipes his hand across his desk, items clattering onto the floor. You squeal in a mixture of delight and surprise as he unexpectedly throws you onto the now cleared desk, the chill of the wood bringing goosebumps onto your skin, and he doesn’t miss it. No, he sees you so clearly, it is as if all the noise in the world has cleared away to provide the perfect picture that is you. He can’t keep calm as your back arches, your chest practically begging for him to come closer, to ravage you.

Reaching forward with trembling hands, his fingers deftly unbutton your blouse, his eyebrows rising when he’s met with the most complimentary color of silk that cups your breasts. Your skin is illuminated with a flush as he continues to stare, his moves slow and methodical, and he takes note of the clench of your thighs as you attempt to relieve the pressure. He doesn’t speed up in his ministrations though, slowing even more as he allows his fingertips to trace from your neck down to your hips, stopping right above the barrier of your tight pencil skirt. He relishes in the way you quiver as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of the skirt, finding the clasp and button with ease and opening it before you can even comprehend what’s happening.

He thanks the Heavens that you hadn’t chosen to wear pantyhose this day, because he would feel guilty having to tear them off your body. Well...only slightly guilty. He can’t continue the thought process though, because a deep groan is pouring from his lips at the sight of your matching underwear, his cock now at full attention and already weeping through his pants. His teeth grips at his lower lip as he forces his body to remain at a glacial pace, but with every second that passes, he’s finding it utterly difficult. Your panting did nothing to calm him, your breaths coming quick as your blown out pupils stare at his hands, your tongue coming out to moisten your reddened lips.

Oh he needed something on his mouth, and he needed something on them now. Discarding your skirt to some unknown spot across the room, his hands grip right behind your knees, fingers tightening so he can forcefully spread your legs. He can feel the muscles in your legs resist as you try to snap them together again, but he doesn’t allow it, his Adam's apple bobbing at the sight of you. So pretty, so beautifully created, and the burn against his hands strengthens. Grunting at the pain, he is practically salivating as it mixes with the pleasure, the shadows quivering around him, but they remain compliant.

And you remain compliant, too, your wide eyes moving to meet his own. A smirk claims the corners of his lips before he leans forward, allowing his hot breath to seep through your underwear. Your legs are trembling within his grip, and you try with all your might to bring his mouth closer to where you want it. Where he knew you needed it. And he is content on giving it to you. Moving his hands from their spot, he uses the angle to spread your legs further apart, his hands coming to your hips. The cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth is pure bliss, your body clearly stiff with shock at the sudden action of his fingers having pushed your underwear to the side so that they could flick your clit.

Yoongi’s mouth salivates at the sight of your entrance, completely wet and dripping. He wants to ask if it’s because of him, but his body is working faster than his mind. His mouth begins to suck at your juices, his nose bumping into your clit and you jump, his hands swiftly moving to hold your hips down. Oh how sweet you were. Like the sweetest of treats, but a rapidly addicting taste that he isn’t sure he can stop. He is sure you don’t want him to stop either, considering how your hand has desperately moved to his hair, fingers gripping at his locks. You tug when he purposely licks your nub, a mumbled whine of his name falling from your lips, and he can’t help but groan.

With all thoughts of a glacial pace flying from his thoughts, he allows himself the pleasure of wrapping his lips around your clit, alternating between sucking and licking in hopes he could hear you call his name once more. At least once more.

Oh but he doesn’t have to wait for long, his name practically pours from your lips in rapid succession as he continues his actions, the tremble in your legs intensifying. Shifting in his spot, he blocks your leg with his shoulder so that he can free a hand, the tips of his fingers promptly prodding at your entrance. Earning an anguished whine from you as he leans away from your pretty pussy, his heart thrums at the way your eyes roll back when he shoves a finger inside of you, quickly following it up with another.

There isn’t much he is proud of, but his fingers are one of them. He doesn’t miss the way your back instantly bows off the desk when he curls them and finds your sweet spot.

“Y-yoongi,” you cry out, beginning a new song of his name with explicit curses that sound so sinfully sweet, his jaw is aching.

Desperate to see how quick he could get you off on his fingers, he leans forward again to provide unabated licks to your clit. The light behind his eyes is almost blinding as your bodies remain connected, the shadows sticking to the far walls away from your shine, but quaking at the pleasure they feel through him. He wasn’t even undressed, and he felt as if he could cum on the spot, just on the feel of you against him. Of the mix of pleasure and pain as he refuses to lose any form of contact with you. And you must have felt the same, because you basically wail your impending orgasm a mere second before it comes crashing.

But he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop. He continues sucking at you and savors the battle your body has, conflicted on whether you should withdraw from the overstimulation, or stay under his tongue as the pain rolls into renewed pleasure. All Yoongi can think about is pleasing you, devouring you in every way he can because this is nothing he has ever felt before.

Your grip in his hair tightens painfully, and he moans at the way you try to stop him. Finally caving in to your demands, he pulls back from your clit and looks you in the eyes, a growl tearing from his chest at the look on your face. You had to be as far gone as he, possibly further gone considering your pupils had practically consumed the iris, your wings spread taut across the desk. His own wings twitch at the sight, and it only takes him a mere five seconds to pull his clothes off and throw them across the room with yours.

Five seconds seem like too much to him, and possibly to you too, because you are standing in front of him by the time he finishes. You have managed to remove your bra and panties on your ascent, your hands coming forward to grab his shoulders, a flash of your wings switching your positions. His vision all but careens at the intensely quick motion, unable to keep up with the change as the room spins. When his eyes are finally able to focus, you have him lying against the desk, scrambling to climb on top of him.

His cock twitches at your juices dripping onto him, each drop tingling against his skin until your flesh makes contact with his once again, the sheer pleasure of pain zinging through him. Reaching forward, his hands grab hold of your hips, desperate to bring your entrance against his member. Your mind seems to be in sync with his, as your hand shoots down to grip his cock, bringing his head to your dripping core. He growls at the onslaught, his thighs tensing for fear that he would lose if before he could get himself in you.

You waste no time in letting his thick cock slide in, your neck becoming exposed as you throw your head back, a cry echoing in the office. The shadow’s tighten their position, absorbing your moans as you beg him to release his grip on your hips, desperate to move so as to allow the tip of his dick to rub over your spot. But his grip is ruthless, the onslaught of pleasure and pain putting him at the edge, and he was not going to lose it now.

Tears are trailing down your cheeks as you meet his gaze, your eyes widening as you observe the slithering shadows wrapping around his neck, quivering in hopes he would lose control in this moment of fragility. Your hands move towards the shadows, the tips of your fingers connecting with the skin at his neck as they retreat, the thrum of his pulse accelerating beneath your fingertips. All control flees from him as his hands grab yours, your fingers intertwining before he thrusts, a silent command to move.

Oh, how you felt above him. Pure bliss. Your hips snap as you grind against his cock, your back arching as you try and move faster. He can feel the shake of your thighs, the shivers as goosebumps travel down your body, turning your nipples into hardened nubs. He lifts himself slightly to take one of those buds into his mouth, groaning against your skin as you practically cry his name. A constant tune of his name on your lips, collective curses intertwining between your bodies as your grip on his hands tighten.

He forces his eyes to remain open, unwilling to lose contact with your body above his, his eyes flitting to all parts of you. He never wanted to forget how beautiful you look above him, how well you balance him as your skin made his burn in all the best ways. Your walls tighten around him, signaling your fast approaching release, and your cries of pleasure grow in volume. Digging his feet into the desk, he lifts his lower half in hopes it will give you more leverage against him, but it was also his desperate way to be closer to you in all the ways he could be.

Your back curves as you halt above him, your walls spasming against him as your juices gush out, the push of your orgasm almost causing him to slip out. He grits his teeth as he forces himself to stay inside of you, his grip unmerciful as you continue to squirt on his cock, soaking his lower abdomen.

Desperation consumes his body as he watches you unravel above him, and his grip on your fingers release, his hands moving to your hips as he adjusts his stance. He revels at your cry of surprise when he begins to slam himself up into you, your chest coming forward to rest against his own, changing the angle in which he enters you. Your lips rest against the thick vein in his neck, your teeth nibbling at his skin as your hands run up his arms before slipping through his hair. If the pain was intense before, his body was practically aflame as your fingers grip at his hair, your walls remaining clenched around him. His thigh muscles scream as he chases his high, frantically speeding up further when he feels the end near. His wings twitch, pitching forward as they comfortably make contact with yours, the bond of a thousand lifetimes pushing him over the edge.

It takes him a moment to realize you’re both in the air, his wings having carried you both off the desk, and you both softly float back towards it. You remain on top of him, your eyes searching his own as your wings stay connected, cocooning your bodies as the bond is finalized.

“I found you,” he whispers.

A small smile claims your lips as you stare back at him, his heart swelling at your reply.

“I found you.”

#Bts #Bts smut #Bts Yoongi #Min Yoongi #Yoongi #Yoongi smut #Min Yoongi smut #Yoongi x Reader #Fae Yoongi #Monarch Yoongi #CEO Yoongi #Fae Reader #A Shadow's Light #btscreatorscorner #bangtanhq #ficswithluv

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akampana · 3 years ago

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Prompt n.24 sounds very interesting. Arturia is a king, but also a knight. And the one thing a knight has by their side, is their trusted weapon...

But we know that sometimes, a weapon is not just a weapon. Sometimes its much more...

Right, Cu Alter?

24. “You will never lose me. I will always be right here beside you.”

Cu Alter x Arturia

One-shot, set in a world where Cú Chulainn and King Arthur exist in the same time period. Enjoy! Thanks for the ask!

___

A loud clang resounded within the stone confines of the throne room, and yet it was quiet compared to the storm raging hell outside, and quieter still to the turmoil that wracked King Arthur’s mind.

Tristan’s desertion was followed by those of a number of knights. The first crack in the glass foundation that kept Camelot’s flag flying high. The exposure of Lancelot’s affair, however, was the hammer that finally smashed it to smithereens. Now here she was left amongst the rubble, with an aggrieved Gawain, a conflicted Bedivere and the cold, dead body of poor Agravain, who fell victim to her excommunicated First Knight. Arturia did not know where Merlin was. Kay had left months ago with all his fortune. She needn’t be a genius to know he wasn’t coming back.

What the people demanded was revenge for King Arthur’s cuckolding: the hunt and execution of the treacherous French knight that fled to his homeland, to whom Arturia held no grudge. Her logic demanded she carry out the farce, but what remained of her sealed-up heart did not.

From this derived her conflict, which she wrestled in solitude, here at the glaringly empty Round Table that used to seat her comrades.

Pursue the man she’s forgiven or stay her hand? Give the people what they want or stand by her own beliefs?

Arturia flinched as cool metal brushed against her fingertips, her startled eyes climbing to meet orbs the color of the wine she just spilled.

“King—!” the glare he sent her stilled her tongue at once, his inhuman crimson eyes glowing in the dim candlelight.

“Cú,” she corrected herself, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. Her thinner night garbs did little to hide the secret of her sex. In the dead of night, she wasn’t expecting any visitors. Especially not at the Round Table, which was devoid of all life at this hour.

“Has your fire gone out for the night?” she said, twisting her father’s silver ring around her thumb as she spoke, “I will arrange for a servant to assist you at once—”

“Forget it,” interrupted the brutal warrior, reclining himself into Lancelot’s former seat as he poured his own goblet. “Can’t sleep in all this racket.”

She knew instinctively he didn’t mean the storm. Regretful green eyes inspected the mess in the corner, wasted wine that was a victim to her ire. Briefly, she wondered how the foreign king could hear her from all the way in the east wing, but it was hardly important. Cú was already a man of few words. He wouldn’t waste any on small talk.

“Yer gonna chase the bastard, aren’t ya? It’s what yer subjects want,” came his raspy declaration, cutting in through the silence just before a crack of lightning illuminated the room. Their eyes clashed in the glaring white light, blood orbs against evergreen.

“I can...I cannot deny them the justice they expect of me,” she answered, grief lacing the small voice that barely carried itself through the thunder.

“So you deny yerself. Just like you’ve done all yer life. Ain’t that right, Arturia?”

It took King Arthur a moment to fully grasp what had come out of his lips. Her breath began to labor as she wracked her brain for an excuse. Panic settled into her bones faster than the snow outside seeped into the grass. Before she could formulate anything, however, she felt Cú’s fingers encircle her wrist.

“Relax. I ain’t telling no one. Weapons don’t talk, remember?” he soothed, as much as an emotionless killing machine could, anyway.

“You are not just a weapon. We have been over this.” Arturia shot back, momentarily forgetting the source of her stress.

As her frantic breaths began to still, she managed a small question. “How long have you known?”

His claws released their grip, lamenting the small indents they left on her skin. “Since ya wasted yer fourteenth seat on a foreign king that once would have torn yer land asunder.”

Cú reached past her arms, lifting the wool cloak from the short king’s chest. Sure enough, he now had his confirmation, a modest chest that was so cleverly hidden behind her armor plates.

“‘Tis of little consequence to me,” he voiced, replacing the garment she pulled so closely around herself. She watched him as he gave her another glass of wine, trying to discern if he spoke the truth.

“I don’t bloody care about what’s between yer legs, the same way you never cared for this fucking tail that trails behind me. All I need to hear are yer orders,” her allied king continued, flicking away a loose strand of hair with the scaly appendage.

“If ya wanna kill Lancelot, Arturia, I’m with ya. Point me in the way of France. But if not, then gimme some other fucking command. I don’t give a shit, as long as it’s what ya want.”

The King of Knights pursed her lip, still unaccustomed to hearing her real name from one who wasn’t supposed to know her secret. Especially when the one who used it was someone she did not expect: the displaced King of Connacht, who was more frequently an envoy serving at her court as an allied Warrior of the Round Table than the ruler of his late queen’s territory. The latter job, Cú had delegated to Fergus, as the “Mad” King had chosen to dedicate his freedom to the one that liberated him.

Arturia shook off his crass manner of speech. After nearly a decade of having him by her side, she’d grown accustomed to his language, even if he was frequently scoffed at by Agravain and Gaheris when the siblings still lived.

The reminder of her knights’ deaths led her gaze back to her table and its empty seats. There were so few that still belonged to the living. Some of them were never to be filled again. Arturia turned to her right, to where Lancelot once sat, meeting ruby eyes instead of onyx ones.

“Then how about this,” she suggested, imprinting the Irish King’s face into her memory the same way she’d done for the rest of her knights. Slowly, she slipped off the silver ring she’d been fiddling with and slid it onto his pinky.

“Return to your homeland with as much gold as you can carry and my eternal gratitude. Take a fourth of the cattle. Reward each of those in your service with one and keep the rest to enrich Connacht.”

Thunder raged on outside the castle walls, but it was the silence of the king before her that unnerved Arturia to a ridiculous extent. For while neither were as talkative as her remaining nephew, the quiet had never been quite so tense.

“The hell?” Cú finally asked, glaring at the Pendragon ring with disgust instead of honor. “You’d have me run? Do ya think me a coward—”

“—I think you are a king that should not die for the flag of a kingdom that is not his,” she cut him off, grasping his hand before he could tear her father’s ring off. “You asked for an order. This is it.”

Cú Chulainn’s claws dug into the collar of her cloak, as he pulled her to his face, a menacing look upon his countenance.

“An order?” he grunted harshly, “Or a feeble attempt at driving me away before I can leave you?”

Arturia’s struggles suddenly ceased, her limbs going limp before the foreign king finally let go of her clothes. The chairs screeched as each ruler fell back onto them, the older one far more irate than the younger.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Cú murmured, his voice soft as his fist thudded onto the circular table. “Ya’ve been an absolute tool since that depressing redhead turned in his rank, and some thoughtless fools followed. Then ya let Lancelot leave, don’t even bloody try to tell me he got away.”

Arturia turned her head, hiding her eyes behind her hay-colored hair. It mattered not how her charisma could sway crowds, her tongue knew not how to lie. Green eyes searched the empty room, counting the few chairs that would be occupied tomorrow. Her sister’s remaining sons’, Bedivere’s and...oh, how very few.

Arturia rested her hand on his fist, urging him to keep the heirloom as proof of the great service he gave Camelot.

“Go home, Cú. I cannot...I cannot lose you, too.” the British king sighed, getting used to the chill of solitude. She’d always known that a life as king was a life alone. At least with Cú, she could choose the day he left, instead of spending her time counting the days till he made his exit, just like her knights, her wizard, her brother.

“Don’t ask something so fucking stupid then go looking so damn pitiful,” he responded, flipping their hands and dragging her into his space till her lips touched his.

There was a reason Cú had stayed, pawning off Connacht to someone else that deserved it more and joining Camelot’s court instead. Not only had Arturia broken the geis that kept him tied to Medb, but she also gave him purpose.

Cú never spoke of it, but he remembered their first meeting like it was yesterday.

It was on the battlefield, back when he was still bound by geis to serve another mistress. Medb, the sly vixen, had tricked him into her service, forcing him into the frontlines till he’d slain every single one of his former comrades.

Bathed in the blood of his friends, the red clouding his vision, the man who was once Ulster’s proudest warrior was no more. His valiant face was replaced by a monstrous visage, his armaments were stained black. Upon his head sat a crown of thorns, forced onto his head by a queen who knew nothing but chaos.

Before long, the name he was proud to take up had been given new meaning. He was no longer Ulster’s guard dog, but Medb’s rabid hound, who sunk his teeth into anything and everything that so much as irked the devilish queen. Cú Alter, she called him, now that she’d bent him to her tastes. Cú Alter, a fitting name to a warrior forced to tarnish his own title.

As the bodies piled up around him, no rhyme nor reason for their slaughter, Cú began to see himself in a darker light, grasping at straws for some sort of purpose behind all the mindless killing.

He must have been a monster. A monster that massacred all that stood in his way regardless of honor and glory. Yes, that must have been it, he convinced himself, finally submitting to the dark cage that his hated loathsome queen had put him under.

As the black chains dragged him deeper and deeper into his own personal hell, he took up his spear once again. It lashed out whenever he touched it, staining itself dark till the vibrant red he used to wield was nowhere to be found. Once more, to the battlefield, said Medb. Once more, he tore across it with a godlike ease.

Then suddenly the cursed spear collided with its match, a sword of shining light that glowed as bright as its wielder. He remembered the moment so clearly, his breath hitching at his throat as his strikes were pushed back, the wind pressure whipping his hood out of his face. His heart pounded with adrenaline as his gaze fell down to his opponent: a tiny little thing, so small they should have fallen to his last strike, but there they still stood, defiant green eyes staring up at him with no fear.

Rage overtook his figure, fueling his strikes as he tried to cast the small warrior back, but all his efforts were met with equal force.

“My name is Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot.” a small voice, too fragile to have been a man’s, rung out across the battlefield. Spear met sword once again, pausing in their dance.

“Your name, knight.”

Even though he stayed on his feet, it was like the king had pulled the rug from under him. Their eyes locked once more, and he saw himself within the green irises, staring mouth agape at his opponent.

His name? His name? How long had it been since he’d been asked for his name? How many foes had he slain since then? How many nameless faces had he sent to the grave? How could this person, this puny king, take one look at his monstrous form and face him like a knight regardless?

“Cú Chulainn,” came his raspy voice, which too often had been used to roar like a beast. It felt foreign on his lips, which had ‘til then spoke nothing but bitter resentment.

That day, Arturia saw more than the monster. More than the weapon he’d disillusioned himself into being. Cú followed the king after Medb’s defeat, intending to find some proof that it was all a fluke, but it never happened. Arturia never treated him or her knights like a weapon or a tool. Arturia treated him like an equal.

And now, years spent the line, she was robbing him of that feeling, sending him away with glory and riches. If he were younger, he’d have jumped at the prize of heroic fame, but that was no longer what he wanted. What he wanted was to be right here, right next to the person that made him feel human again.

As their lips parted, Cú sent a glare through the empty seats of each of the deserters. He’d never understand how they could leave their king behind. He’d met his fair share of monarchs— hell, he technically was one—and even as belligerent a person he was, he wouldn’t wield his spear for any other.

“You will never lose me,” Cú declared in between rough kisses. “I will always be right here beside you. Understand?”

The Irishman returned her ring as she nodded, breathless, into his shoulder. She had one. Even if the world were to turn on Arturia, she still had one. One that would stay forever beside her.

Beside her...

Beyond Cú, the shorter king saw the backrest of Lancelot’s former seat, and finally, she knew just what to do to settle the people and follow her heart at the same time.

“Disregard my previous orders. Heed this instead…”

As the words left his king’s lips, Cú Chulainn proudly grinned.

#and then the two of them make sure the battle of camlann never happens #the end #hahahaahh #akampana asks #love confession prompts #tysm for the ask!#cuturia #cu alter x arturia #cutoria #cu alter #arturia pendragon #artoria pendragon #arturia #artoria #saber #berserker #fgo #fate

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hailing-stars · 4 years ago

Text

@febuwhump day 28 “you have to let me go”

juice pops and soup

summary

“Peter?” he asks. “Shouldn’t you be locked up in school?”

“Don’t feel so good.”

“We’ve talked about that phrase, Pete,” says Tony.

“Sorry.” The kid’s voice sounds truly miserable. “Can - Ccan -” Peter stops talking, and Tony’s ears are assaulted by the loudest sneeze he’s ever heard. “Can you come over? I need soup. And Gatorade. I think I’m dying.”

Tony is sad after dropping off Morgan at school for her first day. Luckily he gets distracted for a bit looking after Peter when he’s sick.

“Daddy,” says Morgan. “You have to let me go now.”

Tony continues holding her, as he watches her fellow kindergarteners hug their parents goodbye and run inside the classroom.

“You know, Mo,” says Tony. “You can always take a gap year.”

“Tony,” says Pepper, lightly touching his arm.

“Ok fine.” Tony puts Morgan down in the school hallway. She looks so small under her Spider-Man backpack. Way too tiny to spend the day without her parents.

“Bye!” Is the only farewell they get before Morgan zips out of their sight and into the classroom.

Tony turns his head towards Pepper. “I don’t like it.”

“We’ve met her teacher,” says Pepper. She’s already starting to walk away from the open classroom door. “And you like her.”

Tony has to admit Morgan got the best teacher in the elementary school. A regular Miss Honey, but that still doesn’t mean he’s ready to leave his daughter behind.

“Wait, Pep!” calls out Tony, but she’s already turning the corner.

He sighs, and takes a peek inside the classroom.

Morgan’s sitting at a table, excitedly talking with two other kids with the biggest smile on her face. It brings a sad sort of smile to his own face, and he sluggishly follows his wife out to the car, abandoning his baby to the school system.

The penthouse is quiet when it’s just Tony. He doesn’t like it, and his mind dwells on Morgan not being there and about how one day she’ll leave for college, about how she’s growing up. Time only speeds up the older he gets. He’s sure one day he’ll blink and she and Peter will be completely grown.

He’s dwelling on these thoughts when his phone buzzes. Seeing Peter’s name flash on the screen fills him with joy, but also gives him pause.

“Peter?” he asks. “Shouldn’t you be locked up in school?”

“Don’t feel so good.”

“We’ve talked about that phrase, Pete,” says Tony.

Tony stands from the couch. “Sure thing, kid. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

“Thanks,” he says, though it sounds more like tanks.

He hangs up his phone, and heads to the drug store, where he buys way more shit than Peter had asked him for. He figures if Pete had wanted someone who won’t overact, he would’ve called Happy.

Tony has so much stuff, some he bought and some he brought from home, that he struggles to carry it up to May and Peter’s apartment in one go. He manages it, though, and his heart melts when Peter unlocks and opens the door for him.

His kid has a blanket wrapped around his body. His face is pale, and there’s absolute misery leaking out from his eyes.

“Oh, kid,” says Tony, stepping inside the Parker apartment, and setting his bags down. He shuts the door behind him. “You look terrible.”

“Tanks,” he says.

Tony looks around, and takes in the chaos of the apartment. There’re used kleenex all over the floor in the living room. Empty Gatorade bottles. Hoodies, and mountains of throw blankets. And it’s wrong. May usually keeps Peter contained to his bedroom when he’s sick.

“Why does your entire living room look like a dumpster fire?” asks Tony. “Where’s May?” There’s no way she’d allow Peter to turn the apartment into the mess it is currently. Not even when he’s sick.

“She had that - um - she that had -”says Peter. Tony puts his hand on his forehead, and nearly burns himself, he’s so hot. “Conference. She’s at a conference.”

“You’ve got quite the fever.”

“Yeah.”

“Should’ve called me sooner,” says Tony. He puts his hands on Peter’s shoulders, and directs him back towards the couch, forcing him to lay back down.

“I knew it was Morgan’s big day,” says Peter, burrowing under the blankets Tony throws on him. “Figured you were stressed enough. How are you taking it?”

Only Peter Parker would ask how someone else it’s doing while he’s sick and disgusting. Tony smiles fondly. It’s part of the kid’s charm.

“Like a knife in my heart.”

Peter laughs, which is a mistake, because his chuckle turns into coughing fit.

Tony looks on with pity, then springs into action. He busts out the dehumidifier and plugs it in, and then works on making the kid’s drink. He cracks open a bottle of Gatorade, and puts into a bendy straw, one that’s printed with small Iron Man cartoons.

Peter rolls his eyes when he sees it, but accepts the drink anyway.

Now that that’s settled, Tony puts the juice pops he bought in the freezer, and begins making the brat’s soup. Peter has dozed off by the time it’s finished, with just his left arm hanging out of the blanket, his fingers barely brushing the carpet.

Tony sets up a TV tray, and brings over the steaming hot soup and crackers, before sitting on the edge of the couch and gently nudging the kid awake.

He blinks a couple of times, yawns, and eventually sits up. “Mmmm thanks Tony.”

“You’re welcome, kid,” says Tony. “I’m surprised you called today, with the amount of grief you give me about my, uh -”

“-helicoptering,” finishes Peter, while he slurps down a spoonful of soup. “And, um, Pepper told me to call you.”

“What?”

“Well May must’ve let it slip to Pepper that I was here sick,” says Peter. “Cause Pepper texted me today and told me have you help me out. She said you really needed the distraction.”

“Oh did she?”

“Yeah,” says Peter. “But I’m glad she did.” Peter looks down at his soup. “I actually don’t mind all the fussing. I just don’t want you to know that I don’t mind it.”

“Good thing you just told me, then.”

“I’m on a lot of cold medicine, Tony, I’m not really in control of what I’m saying.”

Tony laughs. “We can just forget this conversation happened.”

“Good.” Peter takes another soup full of soup. “Did you get juice pops, too?”

“Of course I did.” Even though he hadn’t asked for them. Tony doesn’t mention this part.

“Good.” He repeats.

It clicks in Tony’s mind in that moment, that if this nearly grown superpowered teenager is willingly to ask him for juice pops and soup, that maybe it’s impossible for children to outgrow their parents. That their relationship might change, but they will still call when they need soup or breakdown on the side of the road.

Hell, that’s enough for Tony.

Peter finishes eating the soup, slurping every single mouthful. Tony takes the empty bowl, rinses it, and loads the dishwasher. He brings back a juice pop for him, but the kid is already tuckered out again, buried under a mountain of blankets and barely visible.

He puts the popsicle back in the freezer. He lets Peter rest.

Tony’s car is first in the pick up line.

He’s aware that it’s annoying for other parents to get out of his car, but he doesn’t care. He’s waiting for his daughter.

She runs to him when her teacher allows her too, and Tony kneels down, hugging her.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!” says Morgan. “I made so many new friends!”

“I bet you did.”

She sighs, and bites her lip. “I missed you, though.”

“I missed you too,” says Tony. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“I’m always gonna be here at the end of the day, or whenever you call me.”

Morgan smiles, gives him another hug, and climbs into her booster seat.

There’s light contentment in Tony’s chest, and there’s a scratch in the back of his throat. That damn kid and his slimy germs. He coughs as he drives away, but he doesn’t have any regrets.

#febuwhumpday28 #irondad #irondad fic #Peter parker #sick Peter parker #Tony stark #Morgan stark #sickfic

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chasingforeverandaday · 4 years ago

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Can I ask for #23 from the fluff writing prompts please? “I’d rather live in the woods with you than in a mansion with some (boy/girl/person) I barely know.” I mean, it’s just screaming gendrya at me! Thank you!

Well, how does some Regency era AU sound? This one ended up a full on one shot, because I fell down a rabbit hole real fast. Also I got to write Robb, which was super fun because I never write Robb. He may be a bit out of character, but I feel like if any of the Stark siblings would understand Arya’s conflict of love and duty, it would absolutely be Robb.

half agony, half hope

There are times that Gendry Waters thinks his life would be so much simpler if he’d ever actually learned how to say no to Miss Arya Stark, sister to the Lord of Winterfell. He can stall her in her impulsivities yes, or can sometimes talk her around to his point of view on a matter, but straight up denying her when she looks up at him with those big grey eyes and the pout he always wishes to kiss from her lips?

Stronger men than him would capitulate without question.

Stronger men have.

So when she barges into his smithy one June morning, he steels himself for whatever new (potentially scandalous) misadventure she has in mind for them. But the stricken look on her face as she quietly requests that he close up early and meet her in his personal quarters ignites a panic in his belly, and he hustles the other customers out as quickly as he can after she leaves.

Door locked and forge cooled for the day, he hurries through washing up and finds her in his rooms, pacing back and forth in front of the hearth. He can see the exact moment she notices his presence, as her head whips around to his and her face crumples. Terror seizes in his veins and he crosses the room in two strides to pull her into his arms.

She doesn’t fight him, just lets herself be held for a moment before wrapping her arms around his waist so tightly he thinks she’ll never let go. A shudder passes through her slim frame, then one hand reaches up to bend his neck downwards, her mouth seeking his.

Gods know he’d be happy to kiss her forever, but something must have shaken Arya badly for her to show up unannounced and ask him to abandon his work. Pulling away to lean his forehead against hers, he asks, “Love, what’s wrong?

A tiny voice he’s never associated with Arya Stark whispers, “How quickly can you be ready to leave?”

“What?” Utterly bewildered, he pushes her back farther so he can read her face, but she just burrows her face into his neck, clinging onto him like a limpet. Cautiously, he moves them to his narrow bed, sitting on the edge as she falls into his lap, all the while never letting him go.

She looks up at him then, eyes a little harder, a little more sure as she takes his hands in hers. “Run away with me. Gendry, please, we need to go, and it needs to be as soon as possible.”

“I don’t understand, I thought we had more time, that I had more time to…” Prove myself worthy of you, let myself learn to let you go, something, anything but be forced to watch you choose between me and your family.

“My mother’s invited suitors from houses Frey, Dayne, and Arryn to Winterfell, and I heard her tell Robb earlier that she won’t be letting me reject all of them.” Turning away as she speaks, Arya curls into him more, making herself look even smaller if that were even possible. “She intends to have me wedded and bedded by the end of the summer, seems to think it will curb my more unladylike tendencies.”

“Arya, you’re only twenty two for gods’ sake. She can hardly be that desperate to be putting you on the shelf already!” Almost as an afterthought, he mumbles into her hair, “And I like your unladylike tendencies.”

A sad smile on her face, Arya cups his cheek with her palm as she stays seated in his lap. “I know you do. I think she just wants me to be someone else’s problem now. Besides, all my siblings but Rickon have made good matches and are married. But what my mother said isn’t the important part.”

There’s a subtle shift in her voice as she draws herself fully upright, the pain replaced by something a little more hopeful. She’s finally looking at him again, her grey eyes searching his.

“Because Robb…” she took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders before looking him straight in the eye. “Robb told her he thought I should have more of a choice. He said that yes, I should marry, but that it didn’t have to be one of them. He told her that none of them would make me happy, and that I should marry a man who made me smile, not grimace every time I looked at him.”

Rubbing a hand up and down her back, Gendry cannot help but wonder, “That’s good, even I know that’s a good thing, but why…?”

“Because Robb walked out of his study and found me standing there, pale as a ghost I’m sure. He took me back to my room, and he told me that he thought I shouldn’t be forced to marry a man I didn’t love.” One of her hands comes to rest over his heart, fluttering rapidly at her touch. “Somehow, he knew about you and me, because then he told me he’d been thinking about commissioning you for some ironwork around the estate, and perhaps I could go to town to speak with you about it, since neither he nor Bran could do so today.”

The pieces fall together, and a little of Arya’s hope finds a home with Gendry. “So you think he’s giving us his blessing, and we’re running away.”

“I know he is, he just can’t come out and say it because of who he is.” Threading her fingers through his own, Arya holds their clasped hands together like a talisman, pressing a light kiss to the back of his before looking up with a smile. “We’re going to Gretna Green, and we’re going to get married like we’ve wanted to for three years, and then I’m going to actually learn how to keep a house and run your smithy, and we’re going to be happy, Gendry, so incredibly happy.”

“Aye, in our tiny little home with two rooms and no grand paintings or pianos or anything fancy like what you have up at Winterfell.” He knows that Arya says she has no care for those things, but he needs to remind her of the difference in their standing, just one last time before they make this choice that will alter their lives forever.

“Stupid boy,” she giggles, poking him in the nose with the first true grin he’s seen on her face this afternoon, “I’d rather live in the woods with you than in a manor with some person I barely know. I mean, ideally we live somewhere with a forge for you, but as long as you’re with me, I’m hardly going to be picky.”

Bending down, Gendry allows himself to brush a quick kiss to her lips, a promise made without words. “Give me a few days, so I can finish up my orders and get everything ready so I can leave. Just don’t say yes to any other proposals, and we’ll be saying our vows in a fortnight.”

-/-/-

A sennight later, as she prepares her horse for the journey as surreptitiously as she can, the stable door creaks open. Terrified that it will be that one stablehand who always tells her mother when she leaves the estate without asking permission, Arya hides in the shadows of Nymeria’s stall, peeking out into the center aisle into the hazy, pre-dawn light.

It’s Robb, carefully shutting the door behind him. He walks straight up to her hiding place and holds out his hand to her, a small smirk on his face. “Come out sister, we’ve not much time to waste.”

Slowly, she leads Nymeria out of the stall, fingers tightly gripping her reins. Her brother looks older than she’s ever seen him before. He looks like a lord in a way he never has before, one with the world weighing on his shoulders. But then her eyes meet his, and he smiles at her, and Robb is her big brother once more.

Dropping Nym’s reins, Arya throws herself into his arms, trusting that he will catch her implicitly. She’ll miss this, she thinks, having a brother she knows she can depend on.

When they finally pull away, Robb reaches up to wipe a tear she hadn’t even noticed from her eye. “There now, this won’t be the last time we see each other, little sister. Besides, one would think you’d be happier to be heading off on such a grand adventure with your blacksmith.”

Laughing wetly, she replied, “I am, trust me, I am anxious to start our lives together, I just…” here she shrugged, fidgeting her hands as she tried to gather the words to express herself. “This is the last time I’ll be in Winterfell as Arya Stark, or maybe ever if Mother reacts the way I think she will when she finds out. I’ll miss it here, even when Gendry and I have a new home. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

“You’ll always have a home here, for as long as I’m the lord. Probably after too, as you and I both know you’re Little Ned’s favorite auntie. But I think you’ll be far happier living wherever you and your husband end up than you would locked up in a London townhouse with whatever ponce our Mother has handpicked for you.” The disgusted face he made at his own words made her smile again, which she knew was exactly why he’d done so in the first place.

Serious again, Robb placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze as he said, “I’ve grown to love Jeyne, I have, but I’ve never looked at her the way your Mr. Waters looks at you, or you look at him, and neither has Sansa’s husband. You’re incandescently happy whenever you’re near him, and I can always tell when you haven’t spoken to him in days because you’re so quiet, like you’re holding in all of your thoughts until you can share them with him.”

He sighed before continuing in a soft tone, “If you hadn’t found him, hadn’t fallen in love, then I would try to arrange a marriage for you that could lead to your overall happiness in life. But you did. You fell in love years ago, and I’m glad that at least one of us gets to experience that joy in this lifetime.”

Moving to hold her hand in his left, he reached with his right into the breast pocket of his coat and pulled out an envelope. “This is the information for the accounts I’ve had set up in your name in London.” He placed it in her hand and looked her square in the eyes. “You may not be marrying with a proper trousseau, but this way you won’t be entering this marriage without your dowry. You don’t need to worry about Mother’s reaction either, I’ll take care of it. Jon will meet you in Scotland, I’ve already sent him an express explaining everything.”

Shocked at all the things he had thought of and put in place for her, Arya could only manage to sob, “Robby, I…” before hugging him again.

Her brother pulled her close once more, placing a kiss on her brow before pulling away. “I love you, and I’m sorry I cannot do more. Be happy, Arya. Be happy and one day when we’re old and grey, you’ll tell me stories of all your adventures with the man I know you love and the adorable little children I’m sure you’ll have. Now go, the tasks I set for James cannot take much longer, and you have quite the ride ahead of you.”

With that, Robb helped her onto her horse and led her outside as the sun rose. After he let her go, Arya pushed Nymeria into a trot, determined to make her way to the closed smithy before the people of Wintertown fully awoke. She only let herself look back once, barely able to see the figure of her brother as he waved her off into her future.

#gendrya #writing prompt #my writing #regency au

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vivithefolle · 5 years ago

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Ron’s greatest acts of bravery

An itty-bitty butthurty Harmony shipper reported this answer of mine and got it deleted by the Quora moderation. Naturally, I have contested this decision, but my appeal has been unanswered as of now. So here’s what we’re going to do, folks: I’m gonna repost this answer of mine here, where no angwy widdle Hawmony shipper can censor it. And y’all are going to spam the reblog button until people can’t go in the Harry Potter tag without finding this answer reblogged at least five times over. Good? Good.

(this is totally a demarcation line I don’t know what you’re talking about)

What was Ron Weasley's greatest act of bravery in any of the Harry Potter movies or books?

We of course have the mythical “I’ll be a knight” but that’s so easy. Ron would die for his loved ones any day of any week, because that’s how stupidly selfless and self-effacing he is.

There is the equally mythical “If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” which reeks of badassery and awesomeness, but it has also been quoted before, and to be fair that wasn’t one of Ron’s greatest acts of bravery. Oh, yes, it is incredibly brave, but Ron has plenty more of those to give.

One that is often forgotten is “He beat you!”, spoken to Voldemort in the flesh, which also highlights just how far Ron has come from the beginning of the series - because unlike what the haters want you to believe, Ronald Weasley has an actual character arc. An arc that keeps getting reseted and postponed in-between books because his author is too busy trying to make her Mary Sue look better instead, but he has one, and it’s so perfectly illustrated by this:

"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about be ing a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort" Ron gasped. "What?" said Harry. "You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people --" - Philosopher’s Stone

—-

"Malfoy's dad must have told him," said Harry, ignoring Ron. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle --" "Say You-Know-Who, will you?" interjected Ron angrily. - Prisoner of Azkaban

—-

“My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again." "Don't - say - his - name!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth. "And remember what Professor Trelawney said?" Harry went on, ignoring Ron. - Goblet Of Fire

—-

"You see?" said Voldemort, and Harry felt him striding backward and forward right beside the place where he lay. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!" "He beat you!" yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

From the boy who flinched at Voldemort’s name, to the man who was the first to sass back to Voldemort when the latter dissed his best mate. To say nothing of the fact that this was the first time Ron ever saw Voldemort in the flesh. Ron had never seen Voldemort before, yet the second Voldemort says something about Harry, Ron is up in arms and ready to kill the Dark Lord with his bare hands.

We could go with the tested-and-true “follow the spiders”. Unlike in the movies where Harry immediately sees a trail of spiders and Ron follows moaning and bumbling all the while, in the books Harry and Ron are comfortably in the castle when they decide to follow. Ron has the time to psych himself up, to terrify himself into imagining the spiders, and was given the time to backtrack a million times over. But he didn’t. This one Tumblr post has said it all.

Yes, “Follow the spiders” is probably one of Ron’s bravest moments, but…

But, but, but.

There’s more.

Sure, I absolutely adore Ron and can’t choose between all those awesome moments he has to his name, because they’re all so wonderful. From the ones that highlight just how much he’s grown and developed in spite of his own author treating him like an afterthought; from the ones that showcase just how good a kid he is, how much he loves and fights for his friends; all those moments that show that no, Ron Weasley isn’t a fair-weather friend and anyone who calls him that needs a high-five in the face with a block of concrete…

Out of those moments, out of them all, I have to pick something that is too often forgotten, too often glossed over, even by those of us who love Ron.

I’m talking, naturally, of his return.

Harry had no strength to lift his head and see his savior’s identity. All he could do was raise a shaking hand to his throat and feel the place where the locket had cut tightly into his flesh. It was gone. Someone had cut him free. Then a panting voice spoke from over his head, “Are—you—mental?”

Whether you think that Ron “abandoned” Harry and Hermione, whether you think that Ron is a traitor or a man with the patience of a saint who put up with Harry and Hermione’s bullshit for too long. Whether you think the three times Harry told him to leave were a factor or whether you place the blame solely on Ron’s shoulders.

Ron comes back to save Harry’s life.

But not only that.

“No!” said Ron. “No, don’t open it! I’m serious!” “Why not?” asked Harry. “Let’s get rid of the damn thing, it’s been months—” “Because that thing’s bad for me!” said Ron, backing away from the locket on the rock. “I can’t handle it! I’m not making excuses, Harry, for what I was like, but it affects me worse than it affected you and Hermione, it made me think stuff — stuff I was thinking anyway, but it made everything worse. I can’t explain it, and then I’d take it off and I’d get my head on straight again, and then I’d have to put the effing thing back on—I can’t do it, Harry!” He had bakced away, the sword dragging at his side, shaking his head.

Ron came back, even though he knew it would mean being with the thing that had tortured him all this time.

The thing that latched onto all of Ron’s weak spots, cultivated them, weaponized them, used them to push Ron closer and closer to the edge, until he couldn’t take it anymore and snapped. (Funny how some will act as though Hermione’s birds were her “snapping”, but when Ron is holding Voldemort’s soul in his hands and going insane under their very eyes they just say “hurr durr teh locket didnt do nuthin”…)

And with this thing preying on him, tormenting him, Ron did what any rational, sane human being would have done when their abuser forgets to lock the door.

He opened it and ran.

But, but, but, and that’s where the bravery comes in.

He came back.

He knew there was this thing that preyed upon him relentlessly, a thing that managed to make him believe his best friends didn’t want nor cared about him, that his entire existence amounted to nothing, that he was just a waste of space nobody wanted around.

“Why return? We were better without you, happier without you, glad of your absence... We laughed at your stupidity, your cowardice, your presumption —”

“You mother confessed,” sneered Riddle-Harry, while Riddle-Hermione jeered, “that she would have preferred me as a son, would be glad to exchange...” “Who wouldn’t prefer him, what woman would take you, you are nothing, nothing, nothing to him,” crooned Riddle-Hermione

Ron fled from this sort of abuse, from this sort of torture, then he decided to come back for more.

Because even though he believed his friends didn’t need him, even though he thought his friends were better off without him, he still wanted to make himself useful. He still wanted to help.

And once he’d saved Harry, he was back to facing the entity that has been torturing him, and that entity proceeded to show off Ron’s deepest, most shameful secrets… to his best mate.

Ron’s entire self-esteem is tied to the way his loved ones perceive him:

“You did brilliantly, Ron!” This time it really was Hermione running toward them from the stands; Harry saw Lavender walking off the pitch, arm in arm with Parvati, a rather grumpy expression on her face. Ron looked extremely pleased with himself and even taller than usual as he grinned at the team and at Hermione.

The image the Mirror of Erised showed Ron was one of glory and fame… or was it?

"No -- I'm alone -- but I'm different -- I look older -- and I'm head boy!" "What?" "I am -- I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to -- and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup -- I'm Quidditch captain, too."

Being Head Boy and Quidditch captain. He could have seen himself being crowned World’s Best Emperor if he wanted, with legions of fans throwing himself at him, but that doesn’t happen.

Instead he sees himself being like Bill. Like his cool older brother. And Quidditch captain, like his other cool older brother Charlie.

What Ron wants… is to make his loved ones proud.

Ron defines himself by the way his loved ones look at him.

When Malfoy calls him an idiot he scoffs because it’s Malfoy. When Hermione calls him an idiot, though…? Ouch.

And now all of Ron’s secrets, all his feelings of inadequacy and inferiority that he has tried to keep quiet throughout the series out of respect for Harry, his deepest fears… They’re all there for Harry to see, for Harry to judge, for Harry to feel disgusted by. Because how dare Ron Weasley have problems, how dare Ron Weasley be envious of Harry Potter, whose life is nothing but suffering?

Ron’s greatest act of bravery, to me, was coming back, even though for all he knew Harry and Hermione had hooked up while he was gone (they’d never, of course, but how could he know?), even though he knew it would mean being up for Round #2 of his private torture sessions with Voldemort, even though he believed he wouldn’t be welcome…

He still came back. Because it was the right thing to do.

Anyone who’s gonna tell me that Ronald Weasley isn’t loyal to the core can suck on a cactus.

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greekgeek21 · 4 years ago

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Percy Jackson and the Avengers: Convergence - the avengers are humbled

Welcome back! I know it's been awhile but I hope I didn't lose too many of you. I just wanted to say thank you for all of the support I've been getting on all platforms. Honestly, I did not expect this story to take off the way it did.

Now that that's over, I'm gonna clarify something for SOME PEOPLE. I started writing this last October, which means that I have absolutely no interest in going back over already-edited work just to change a minor detail some people seem to find maddening. This chapter, I can say for certain, was written during December, so I don't always remember what happened. Okay?

This chapter is kinda just one big fluffy piece but I love it so no hate pls.

Now please remember to comment, like, follow me, and reblog!

- you author

Ω ♆ Ω

"Okay! Assignments...Annabeth and Piper, go with Widow, Frank with Hawkeye, Hazel and Leo with Tony, and Jason and Percy with Bruce and I. Everyone okay with that?" Steve said.

"Yep."

"Got it, Cap."

"This should be fun..."

The heroes separated into their groups and stood, waiting for more orders from Captain America.

"As I said before, this is just to further evaluate and document your abilities. It shouldn't take long. That's it, get to work," He ordered, turning and walking towards the sparring pads with Jason, Percy, and Dr. Banner.

They were back on the training floor for the evaluations, after an uneventful lunch break. Well, unless you count Frank's disgust with the attempt at proper Chinese food as eventful.

Ω ♆ Ω

Despite them being on the sparring mats, Percy and Jason would not be sparring. Even to someone who doesn't know the full extent of the sons of the Poseidon and Zeus' relationship, it's pretty obvious that they should not be allowed to fight each other. Their personalities are almost exact opposites; Carefree vs Serious.

"Just show us something we haven't seen from you before, and then we'll build from there," Bruce told the teens.

Percy and Jason looked at each other expectantly, waiting for the other to begin. Their powers were similar in the way that they could get out of hand quickly. Neither of them wanted to be the reason that the tower lost power or got flooded. Zeus knows it would be a mess to clean up.

After a whole two minutes of waiting for them to get started, Steve let out a sigh, "Oh, for God's sake! Jason, you go."

"Umm...let's see here," Jason muttered under his breath, looking around the room for inspiration, "Oh! I got it!"

He positioned himself a couple of feet away from a practice dummy and held his hands together in front of him. Taking a deep breath and imagining his goal, he let sparks fly around his hands. He let them grow for a couple of seconds before slowly starting to separate his hands. While doing this, he made sure a line of electricity was stable between his hands. He kept separating his hands until he couldn't anymore, and then he slowly released his grip on the line from his left hand. He made sure to keep feeding the lightning rod so that it held form.

Meanwhile, on the sidelines, Percy, Steve, and Bruce were all watching with equal amounts of shock. Percy had never seen or known Jason could do this, and Steve and Bruce were completely new to all of this. Then, Jason proceeded to shock them further.

He made the line of electricity into a whip. He made a lighting whip.

Percy was so proud of his friend's imagination. It was almost enough to make a grown demigod cry...

Jason readied his whip and struck the practice dummy, slicing it completely in half. Then, he turned to his group, smiling and making the lightning dissipate. It should've been illegal how easy he made it look, in Percy's opinion.

"Dude! That was awesome! I didn't know you could do that!" Percy exclaimed, slapping the son of Zeus on the back with a proud, blinding smile.

No matter what it seemed like sometimes, Percy was the big brother of the Seven.

"Yeah! That was pretty good, son," Steve said, nodding his head in appreciation, "Now we only need to get that process sped-up and it will be an amazing asset in a fight."

"This means you could do so much more with your abilities, including maybe providing infinite power, which we have been searching for for decades! You kids are truly lucky to have these powers," Bruce rattled off.

Percy whispered to Steve, "Does he get like this a lot?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah. I tend to tune-out the sciency rambling and just focus on stuff I can understand. He had Tony if he needs to bounce ideas off of someone, anyway."

"Got it," Percy said, "I guess this means I'm next?"

He had thought about this a lot during lunch, and had decided to go into the exercise with the comfort and ease he had possessed using his powers before Tartarus, and see where he got from there. Like Annabeth said, it was all in his head. He just needed to believe that he had control, and he would get it.

Simple, in theory.

"Yep. I want you to copy Jason, but with water," Steve said.

He gave more specific instructions to Percy because he felt like he needed that. He was a leader, and leaders need to notice and know what their troops need. Percy needed specifics because he was cautious with using his powers, and he wanted to know exactly what was needed of him before going in. That way there is no possibility of him losing control.

Once again, only in theory.

"Okay, Percy... you got this," Percy muttered to himself, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and cracking his neck.

He shook his hands out once before readying himself in a slightly-more relaxed version of Jason's stance. But this time, he did not hold his hands together. Instead, he reached his hands out towards the bucket of water the Avengers had brought to the sparring mats earlier. Taking a deep breath, he felt the barely-there familiar tug in his gut before a tendril of water was rising from the bucket and reaching towards his outstretched hands. Percy willed it to wrap around his arms and hands, and then he slowly put his hands together like he had seen Jason do (he wasn't quite sure how he planned to make the whip yet, so this seemed like the best bet). Taking another deep breath, he started separating his hands, but keeping a solid tendril of water stretched between them.

He tried to move slightly faster than his cousin did, just because of the ever present, unconscious competitiveness ingrained between them.

Finally, he let go with his left hand and let the water form into a whip in his right. It kept shape, but was more flexible than the rod had been. Percy turned to the other practice dummy and whipped it twice, forming two straight slices right through the rubber.

Everyone in their group stood in shock, including Percy after he had deposited the water back in the bucket. He hadn't known he could use a whip.

Must be another natural demigod thing, he thought. Most weaponry came easy to him (except archery, of course).

It took a moment for them to recollect themselves, but Steve shook himself out of his stupor first, "That was...impressive, Percy. I didn't know you had such control over your powers."

The demigod in question shrugged modestly, "Yeah. I didn't really either, to be completely honest."

Jason surged forward and hung an arm around his friend, "Stop being so modest, Kelphead! That was amazing!"

Sure, Jason had done the same thing, but he hadn't gone through literal Hell and come back scarred forever, emotionally and physically. But mentioning that topic wasn't wise, so he stuck with just congratulating his older cousin.

"What else do you want us to do?" Percy asked Steve and Bruce, trying to move the attention off of him.

"Well...I guess just do a couple more small things with your powers and then we can be done. I think you've proved your point of not being newbies," he answered.

Percy and Jason smiled at each other once, then nodded at the Captain.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Okay, Frank, let's see what you got! Any special skills besides turning into animals?" Clint asked.

Frank shifted from foot to foot, "Well, I'm pretty good at archery, I guess. Better than my swordsmanship, anyways."

Clint smirked, "You guess? If you're going to be on this team, you need to be completely sure of your skills. So let's see what you can do."

Frank had grabbed his bow and magical quiver during lunch because he figured he would need it for something during this exercise, so he only had to sling the bow over his shoulder to be ready. The quiver was designed by Leo to never run out of celestial bronze and imperial gold arrows. The celestial bronze ones were normal, and the imperial gold were exploding. A combination of both metals would shoot out hardening foam (also designed by Leo) to stop monsters. Or in this case, people.

He set himself up on the first line on the archery range, and let the arrow fly. It hit the bullseye dead-on. Frank turned to look at Clint to find him raising his eyebrows in appreciation.

"Good. But I'm not impressed until I see you do that from a longer distance and on the move, so let's work our way up there, huh? I'm interested in seeing if we can finally have another good archer on this team," Clint said.

Frank smiled, "I've been doing this practically my whole life, so I'd hope I was pretty good by now. Plus, I've been in battle before, shooting on the move."

There was the newfound confidence that still baffled a certain son of Poseidon after a whole year. You go into the deepest parts of Hades with a shy Canadian Baby Man, and then miraculously you make it out and the kid is taller, buffer, and much more confident.

"Sounds interesting... Any war stories you care to share with the class?" Clint asked, intrigued.

Frank's happy expression steeled over, "I think I'd rather keep those to myself, thank you. Maybe another time."

Clint nodded, but you could see he wasn't going to let that go. Frank had made a mistake saying he had seen battle before. It was pretty obvious that the teens had, but he had just confirmed it, therefore furthering the Avengers' curiosity.

So, basically, he had screwed them over further and faster.

With a great sigh, Frank went aimed and shot another arrow, choosing to ignore the awkwardness that had formed between the two archers.

Ω ♆ Ω

Leo and Hazel were... unsure how to react to Tony's exercise, to say the least. They got over to their part of the room and their eyes immediately tunneled-in on the giant block of metal in the center. Nothing special about it besides the fact that it was black, and about four feet tall, and four feet wide. They weren't sure what to make of it.

Tony was beaming next to them, which was a sure sign of nothing good. It was pretty maniacal, too.

"Mr. Stark... what exactly are we doing with this?" Hazel asked.

Somehow, Stark's grin managed to widen even more before he answered with, "Oh, you know, a simple thing, really. I want to see something unique from both of you, so I brought this out of storage. I designed it years ago, not knowing what the hell I would be using it for, but it turns out my genius brain was just preparing me for this moment where I would evidently be training a bunch of teenagers... but anyway! This will mold to any specifications that I need it to, kinda like the LMDs. Just tell me what you're planning to do, and I'll program it to follow your needs."

Hazel raised her eyebrows at Tony's complete disregard for modesty. The others were not kidding when they said he was an arrogant mortal. She was even considering going all "I am your superior because of my divine blood" on him, but then she remembered that that would make her a huge hypocrite.

Leo, on the other hand, was starstruck. He was convinced that he could never come up with even half the stuff Tony invented. He was a true genius in every right. A role model of many Hephestus kids.

"So... who's going first?" Tony asked.

"I'll go!" Leo exclaimed, like an eager child vying for their father's attention.

"Great! That's the spirit! What're you gonna do?"

Leo thought about it, and then the perfect idea came to mind. It wasn't really using his usual extravagant and fiery powers, but it wasn't any less impressive. He wanted to impress Mr. Stark, and this was the way to do it.

"Make it the hardest safe to crack in the world," he answered, a, well, fire lighting up his eyes.

Tony was intrigued, that's for sure. It was pretty obvious what the kid was planning on attempting, but it would be just that: an attempt. Nobody could crack this safe. It was designed by himself personally to house some of his most secret projects for the Avengers. He was literally the only one in the world that even knew of its existence. There was no way Leo could pull off cracking that type of safe without years of preparation.

But, he still programmed the block to make itself into the safe. If anything, it would show these teens how not to underestimate Tony Stark.

"Okay, kid. Good luck," he said, and then whispered, "You're gonna need it."

Leo didn't comment on Tony's quieter remark, but he did smile wider at the prospect of a real challenge. Sure, he could come off as a little overconfident sometimes, but he really was smart and powerful when he tried. He just wasn't a serious child of Athena, he was a fun son of Hephaestus, and he would act as such.

Still, when the block turned into something he had never seen before, he took a deep breath, focused his mind on the task at hand, and got to work.

Tony was smiling wide over his shoulder, interested in seeing how far the kid could get, but little did he know, Leo had this under control. To someone who didn't know him, what he was doing would seem weird, but he was actually just listening to the machine. Yes, listening to it.

He had his ear pressed up against the safe, both hands pressed flat against it next to his head. Leo was already learning the mechanisms of it, and in no time, he would be able to tell the safe to open itself without even lifting a finger.

He was almost vibrating with excitement over how Tony would react. It was sure to be a show.

Sure enough, a little less than a minute later, there was a series of soft clicking heard before the light on the pad flashed green and the door was open.

Of course, it was empty, but Tony was still in shock. A sixteen year old kid had beaten his strongest security system besides JARVIS. It wasn't possible. There was no way that Leo had just cracked his safe.

"No. Not possible," he insisted, turning with wide eyes to stare at the demigod, who had a proud grin on his face.

"Yep, it is. I just did it. Were you not watching?" Leo said, channeling his inner-Percy for sass.

Tony so wanted to protest more, but he knew it was futile. Plus, having someone almost as smart as him around might be some fun. Bruce was always worrying whenever they worked together, and Leo gave off way different vibes.

"I was watching, still working on believing, though," Tony said, "That was some pretty cool shit there, kid. Care to tell me what it was?"

Leo said, "I just talked to the safe. It was a little harder to crack than some of the other ones I've done before, but I got through to it eventually. It was pretty strong. Good work on that design."

"Thank you... I guess," Tony said.

Tony couldn't remember telling Leo who had created the safe, but he figured he would get the same answer as before if he asked. Believing these kids' powers was a little difficult, especially when all of them defied the laws of any science. Tony was starting to think that they were Asgardians, with how they fought and everything.

"Well, let's move onto Hazel. We don't have all day," he said, turning to the daughter of Pluto, who had stayed to the side during Leo's entire turn, "What are you gonna do? It's gonna be pretty hard to follow up on that performance."

Hazel had had time to figure it out while she was waiting, so she answered right away, "I won't be needing the box for my turn. I just need you."

Tony gave her an incredulous look, "What do you need me for?"

"Just tell me a metal. Any metal in the world, and I'll bring it here," she answered.

Okay, Tony was done. There was NO WAY that was possible, and he knew it. He wasn't stupid. These kids were messing with him now.

"Seriously?! I'm not falling for that! You can't do that!" he exclaimed.

Hazel just gave him a knowing smile, "I get that a lot. But I always seem to prove those people wrong..."

Tony sighed, "Okay, sure. Let's do... Vibranium."

He kept a straight face on the outside, but on the inside he was smiling like a maniac. Vibranium could only be found in Wakanda, and they barely had any left. There was no way she could get it all the way here, even if there was any left.

Hazel nodded and closed her eyes, letting her powers search for the precious metal. She had heard of it before from some people in the Underworld. Apparently, it could only be found in a small country in Africa, so she had to widen her search.

It didn't take long to find some, but that was only because what she found was Steve's shield. She hadn't known that it was made of vibranium, and stored that knowledge away for future use. Then, she kept looking.

Soon, she found some and told a very small piece to come to her. You couldn't ask her how it reached all the way up through the tower, but she always just concluded that it was magic. It's the simplest solution.

When she opened her eyes, a content smile on her face, she looked up at Tony with expectation of a shocked outburst, only to find him looking expectantly at her. So he hadn't figured out what she had done yet, apparently.

"Look down," she instructed.

And Tony did. Only to find that a small rock of Vibranium was poking up from the floor. At first, he wasn't sure how to react, but then, he reached down to touch it, trying to make sure what he was seeing was actually true. But before he could put one finger on it, Hazel shoved him away.

"Don't pick it up! It's cursed, you idiot!" she yelled, but then her own face slacked in shock.

She hadn't meant to say that last part. It was the truth, but her powers could definitely be linked back to the gods. She was not going to be the one to let the secret slip. That was going to be Percy or Leo, if anyone.

"That's amazing," Tony breathed, openly staring in shock at the metal.

But before another second had passed, the rock popped back through the floor and was gone as quickly as it had come.

When Tony looked up at Hazel in question, all he got was a shrug in response. It wasn't safe to keep the metals lying around.

Tony physically shook the shock out of him, and said, "Alright. That was pretty impressive, I'll admit, both of you. We can be done for the day. I'm gonna go check out what some of the others are doing."

"Yeah, I'll do that too," Hazel said, turning to Leo. "What about you? What are you gonna do?"

"I think I'll try to help JARVIS find the bad guys," he responded. "I'm getting nervous just waiting for them to blow something else up."

While Tony was walking away, he yelled to Leo, "Don't break anything! Everything here costs more than everything you own!"

Leo wasn't so sure about that, considering the amount of celestial bronze he owned, but he didn't comment on it.

Ω ♆ Ω

Annabeth and Piper were hard to find an exercise for. Neither of them had very obvious superpowers (one didn't have one at all), in Natasha's opinion. She wanted to see how much the others would have to protect them if it came down to a fight of powers. Sure, she didn't have any abilities, but she had also been training how to make up for that almost her whole life.

So, if anyone could find a weakness in these two girls, it would be her, and Natasha was determined to find it.

"Okay girls, this shouldn't take too long. You're only throwing knives at moving targets. The trick is, you won't know when the targets will pop up. You'll be standing in the middle and holographic targets will form around you at random times, always speeding up. If you're as good as you say you are, you can handle this no problem," Natasha said, eyes piercing into Piper and Annabeth.

"Yeah, we got this," Annabeth shot back, standing proud. "I'll go first."

Natasha was not making it unknown that she didn't trust the demigods, and Annabeth was not going to let that continue. Only the "kids" knew what was really going on, so the adults needed to get in line with their way of doing things before somebody got killed. These people that they were hunting had already killed many people, so they knew they were capable of it. This makeshift group needed to be a well-oiled machine by the time they found the bad guys.

"Okay, just step into that square on the ground, and it'll begin. Piper and I will be stepping out of the range," Natasha said, grabbing Piper's arm and dragging her back about seven yards, "Let's begin!"

It seemingly came out of nowhere, the target. Annabeth had barely been able to grab some of the knives from the table next to her before it formed. It was an orange color, and very pixelated. As soon as she shot the arrow right through the bullseye, it exploded in a shower of orange pixels. She barely had time to let that sink in before another one popped up. They seemed to be stopping the knives, but as soon as they deformed, the weapons just dropped to the ground.

It was rapidly speeding up, but it was nothing to being overrun with monsters trying to kill you. Soon enough, the targets started moving, so she had to adjust her stance to hit them where they would be, not where they were.

It was exhilarating. She hadn't had this much of an adrenaline rush in a year!

Her five minutes of throwing seemed to end all-too-quickly. Soon, the targets stopped popping up, and Natasha was walking towards her with an almost-impressed look on her face.

"Not bad, Chase," she conceded.

"Thanks," Annabeth responded, going and helping Piper pick up the knives lying around their area.

When she got to her, her friend looked up, "That was pretty good, Annabeth. I don't know how I'm supposed to follow that, though."

Annabeth rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up. I could've done better. And you'll do great, Pipes. I trained you, right?"

She had a light twinkle in her eyes that always came when she was joking around (and that wasn't often). Piper had been trying her very best to see it out as much as possible after Tartarus. Percy and Annabeth put on a strong front, but the Seven could all see they were still recovering, and probably would always be. Nobody just jumped right back into things after something as traumatic as that trip through Hell.

But Piper didn't let it be known how proud she was of Annabeth for making a joke; that would only stop the fun right in its tracks.

"Thanks," Piper said, picking up the last knife before replacing Annabeth in her previous spot in the square.

In her opinion, she wasn't doing as good as Annabeth, or making it look as easy, but it wasn't too difficult. She had been practicing all the time on her fighting skills, and she especially focused on daggers. Knives were balanced a bit differently, but it was the same concept. She just had to compensate for the loss of weight.

Soon enough, Piper found the flow and could slightly anticipate when the next target would pop up.

Annabeth knew Piper would be fine doing this exercise. Sure, it got the blood flowing, but it wasn't the hardest thing they had done. They had fought in actual wars.

Before Piper had known what happened, the targets stopped showing up, and the five minutes were up. She was breathing a little heavily, but a giant grin was taking up her face.

"Not bad, either," Natasha complemented, "You will probably be able to take care of yourselves in a fight."

"Probably?" Annabeth glared.

Natasha returned the glare, "Probably."

Annabeth wanted to say more, but a shout from Leo, who had just sprinted back into the room, interrupted her.

"Guys! Guys! We got a hit!" he screamed, eyes wild with excitement.

Ω ♆ Ω

Everyone but Hazel and Tony stared at Leo in confusion and concern. They didn't know that he had gone to work with JARVIS on tracking the bombers.

Tony ran up to Leo, "What? Where?"

"In Las Vegas," Leo answered.

The rest of the heroes had all formed a group around Leo. Percy and Annabeth had naturally gravitated next to each other. At Leo's answer, they clasped hands and shared a look. They knew why Las Vegas was chosen: The Lotus Hotel and Casino. Flashbacks to zebras and old games flashed through their minds.

"What would they want in Las Vegas?" Steve asked.

"Who cares?! We're going to Vegas baby!" Tony exclaimed, pumping his fist. "JARVIS? Prepare the jet."

Tony was the only one who hadn't noticed the oldest demigods' reaction towards

Las Vegas. He didn't realize how bad this could really be. The demigods didn't have the time to make sure the Avengers didn't get stuck in the casino, if that's where they were going (which it probably was).

"Um, care to share what's bothering you two?" Steve asked Percy and Annabeth.

"We've been to Vegas before. If we're going where we think we might be going, this could be bad. You need to listen to us exactly, okay? It's important," Percy answered.

Tony gave him a confused look. "What are you talking about, kid? We'll be fine. I don't need a teeanger telling me how to do what I'm best at."

Annabeth glared at the billionaire, "And what is that; what you're good at? Because I thought it was being lazy and never taking anything seriously."

"Annabeth, just let it go. We'll just have to watch him closer." Percy said, resting a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder.

With one last glare at Tony, and a warning look to the other Avengers, Annabeth stormed out of the training room, heading back up to her room to prepare without another word. Mortals were so stubborn, she thought, especially when you're trying to protect them. It's literally their birthright to protect mortals, and they never let them!

Storming into her room, Annabeth grabbed a duffle bag and started stuffing supplies into it: weapons, spare clothes, ambrosia and nectar, armor, and a couple other things. She was so distracted by her anger that she didn't see the shadows fluctuating in the corner, or the black snout poking out.

She didn't see it until it was too late.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Are you going to tell us what that was all about back there?" Jason asked Percy as the rest of the demigods were walking back to their rooms.

Percy sighed, exhausted with the day but knowing it was not even close to being over, "Las Vegas is where Annabeth, Grover and I went during our first quest together. We got stuck in the Lotus Hotel and Casino. It's the home of the Lotus-eaters. They trap you in there and you don't feel time passing. We were in there for a week without realizing it. It's dangerous, man."

Piper and Jason shared a worried look, and Piper said, "So... we need to keep a close eye on the mortals on this mission, right?"

"A very close eye," Percy nodded.

When Percy reached Annabeth's door, he decided to go check on her. "Go get your stuff. Let's meet in the living room."

"Okay, Aquaman," Leo said, dashing into his soot-stained room.

Percy wasn't sure what he was expecting to find, maybe Annabeth crying, screaming, or angrily throwing things into a bag (that's the most likely), but he was NOT prepared for nothing. Literally nothing; the room was empty. There was an open duffle on the bed, along with a couple of weapons lying around it, but no Annabeth.

He wasn't getting worried yet, though. She could just be in the bathroom. That was a viable option. He would not allow himself to freak out yet. At least not until he checked the bathroom...

... And the bathroom was empty! Now he allowed himself to freak out. He started storming around the room, tossing things around looking for a clue as to where she went, anything!

"Annabeth! Wise girl!" he called, though he knew it was fruitless.

In their lives, nothing was ever as easy as simply calling for someone and they came back. Annabeth was missing, and he had no idea how to find her.

Unless someone was stupid enough to leave a trail of shadows, that is. Looking in the corner, Percy saw that the shadows in the right corner were moving around unnaturally, a lot like what happened after they were used for shadow travel. He had spent enough time around Nico to understand what it looked like.

So this meant that someone with access to shadow traveling took her, and that wasn't a long list. It was probably a hellhound that took her! Oh, were they going to pay.

Percy could feel his powers slipping, and the walls were giving scary creaks. No matter how much he wanted to just explode, he knew that he had to take a deep breath and focus on recentering himself. He would be no help to Annabeth if he wasn't in control. Some part of his brain was telling him that maybe letting off a little steam WOULD help get his powers under control, but no, he promised Annabeth. And Percy refused to break that promise if he could.

"JARVIS!" he yelled, already rushing out the door, "Call everyone to the living room! Now!"

"Right away, sir," JARVIS responded.

Percy ended up just running to the living room, not wasting any time being careful. Annabeth was missing, and he needed to find her and get her back NOW.

His emotions were running high, so he could sense all the water and liquids around him (it was a lot), and it was becoming distracting.

When he got there, only Steve, Clint, and Natasha were waiting so far. Though Hazel and Frank walked in right after him, probably having heard him scream before JARVIS had even called everyone.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, concern filling his eyes.

Percy paced and said, "Wait until everyone else is here. Then I'll tell you."

His mind kept flashing pictures of all his and Annabeth's enemies. Years and years of fighting monsters and wars were playing on his brain. There were so many possible people, even if it probably was the current gang that they were searching for. He didn't want to let himself believe that mortals could be so messed-up that they worked with monsters, monsters that they couldn't even begin to understand. It was so far-fetched, and yet it was his life!

As these thoughts were going through his head, the rest of the team had finally made it in. They were all sporting confused and concerned glances. Natasha seemed to have figured out that one of them was missing, and that it wasn't normal for that person and Percy to be separated. Annabeth was missing.

"Percy, man. Stop pacing and tell us what's wrong," Jason laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Percy's eyes got a little misty as he told them, "Annabeth is missing. Taken. She's gone, and I don't know where to find her."

Hazel gasped.

Nothing was right with this. Percy without Annabeth was wrong. So wrong. They needed to be reunited soon, and quickly.

Percy started pacing again, absentmindedly twirling Riptide around his fingers. He had decided that it was best to start in Las Vegas and go from there. There was a good chance that it was the gang who had taken her, and that they were holding her there. It was his only idea.

The others had just been sharing worried looks and a few whispered thoughts before Tony suddenly jumped up, holding his phone like it might explode.

"Guys, I think I know who has her..." he said, making a few hand gestures before his phone screen was projected in front of them.

It was a picture. Of Annabeth.

She was hanging from celestial bronze chains, with a leather gag in her mouth, and shackles on her ankles. Her hair was a matted mess, and she was unconscious. Even so, Percy could see that she had a black eye, probably from struggling. She wouldn't go without a fight, that's for sure. But still, this was not the Annabeth they knew. The Annabeth they knew was a strong force to be reckoned with. This...person was not her.

Percy let out an almost animalistic growl at the sight. They were going to pay, whoever had taken her. All of them.

"It has a note," Tony said, throwing up another picture.

It said:

We are The Truth Seekers. We have your blonde bitch, and she will be dead in the next 24 hours unless you reveal yourselves. The world deserves to know! It is our right to know the monstrosities that go unseen, right beneath our noses! 24 hours, or she's dead. We're at the Lotus Hotel and Casino, another one of the hidden monstrosities in our world. Tell the truth!

Percy was going to kill them. He didn't care if they were mortals, they were going to die. They hurt Annabeth, he hurts back. Worse.

"We need to suit-up, and then we can get going and rescue her. But first, we need a plan," Steve started to speak, but before he could, the world flooded in.

Screw control, Percy thought.

He let the pipes and burst and break the windows. Standing on the very edge of the empty window seal, he let out the loudest taxi whistle the Avengers had ever heard. Waiting only a second for a black blur to show up on the horizon, Percy jumped.

Ω ♆ Ω

other chapters :)

#pjo #the avengers #mcu #avengers #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #crossover #fanfiction #fanfic #wattpad #webnovel #inkitt #this is a big fluffy piece don't judge

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jalapeno-princess · 5 years ago

Text

Thought I Knew You

Mark Tuan x Reader x Park Jinyoung

Genre: Angst, some fluff and SMUT (very bad smut lol) (By the way, this is not a love triangle, sorry)

Word Count: 12k (aw shit I didn’t even realize how long this was hahaha)

Summary: You made the mistake of thinking you could be the one who changed Mark’s fuck boy ways and you end up falling in love with him. However, no matter how much Mark claimed to have loved you, nothing would be as important to him as his reputation.

A/n: This is based on the song “Cake” by Melanie Martinez. Y’all I am dying here in this quarantine it’s only day eight and I’m planning on shaving my sister bald. Please enjoy.

I'm not a piece of cake for you to just discard While you walk away with the frosting of my heart So I'm taking back what's mine, you'll miss The slice of heaven that I gave to you last night

Ever since you were a little girl, your parents would constantly warn you about the dangers of drugs. They wouldn’t fail to try and scare you with the kind of effects that it had on people and how drugs could ruin a person’s life once they were to get addicted. However, they failed to explain to you that drugs also came in human form.

Your parents never brought up the fact that drugs could have soft brown eyes, pink heart shaped lips, rosy cheeks, sharp nose and a well defined jaw.

Drugs could have a smile, that could make your heart rate increase as much as it could decrease without seeing it. Drugs could have a laugh that you were sure could cure cancer. Mark Tuan was a drug, your favorite drug and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t addicted.

“Y/n, oh God, please tell me it isn’t true.” You looked at your friend in confusion and tried to help her catch her breath in order for her to go in to depth about what she was referring to. She looked as if she ran a mile in order to come and find you. Your mind couldn’t process why she was so adamant on looking for you as if something was wrong.

“What are you talking about? What’s not true?” She gave you a knowing look and took one more breath before releasing a frustrated sigh.

“You slept with Mark Tuan?” As soon as she said those words, your heart sank and you were sure all color was drained from your face. How did she know? It was a secret meant to be kept between the two of you. Was he spreading the news all around school when he promised not to? What did he think he would get from that? You wanted to throw up. This is what you were afraid of when you first got involved with the older boy.

You knew Mark was bad news. He was known to be the biggest fuck boy in school. Mark had a reputation for sleeping around and he never hooked up with the same girl twice. That is why you made a promise to yourself to never get involved with him, no matter how extremely charming and devastatingly handsome he was. You refused to let your heart get broken by someone who obviously didn’t care about anyone but himself.

However, you don’t regret falling for the charming boy. Sure, he lured you in with his sweet words, countless love confessions, soft kisses, gentle touches and promises to change his ways in order to be a better person for you. But it was your fault for believing in his lies. For putting your trust in someone like him, someone infamous for getting everything he wanted. He made you feel important in the six months the two of you spent together, but now that he got what he wanted, you knew it was over for the both of you.

It was the beginning of your junior year in college, and you were doing just fine. School was always your main focus and you tried your best in everything you did. From the time you won the science fair in 3rd grade, to becoming the president of the national honor society and being nominated as your high school valedictorian, you were known to be one of the smartest people in school. Which is why your English professor pulled you to the side and gave you a really good offer you knew you couldn’t refuse. Until you heard what he was having you do.

When the name Mark Tuan fell from his lips, you didn’t hear anything after that. All the words that your professor said went through one ear and out the other. You were quick to apologize and declined his promises of writing you multiple letters of recommendation and the immediate A+ he would give you for doing him such a huge favor. Although he was upset, he couldn’t blame you for not wanting to tutor the infamous bad boy.

Hearing your professor practically beg you for your help upset you; Mark was a grown man. Even though he obviously didn’t give a shit about his education, he should take responsibility and do whatever he could to maintain his grades. But he was too busy partying, getting high and fucking anything that had legs.

Mark was completely aware that your professor had reached out to you and asked you to help him out with his school work. He wasn’t going to lie, he found you extremely attractive and he admired how dedicated you were to your education. By the way you barely paid any attention to guys other than your best friend Jinyoung, he was sure you were still a virgin and Mark made it his goal to be the one to take away your innocence.

He knew it was selfish of him to want to do such a thing, but he was well aware of how much of a goody two shoes you were and how you thought you were better than everyone else. Mark wanted to be the one to fuck that mentality out of you. That’s how he came up with the plan to break down your walls and get you to fall for him.

The day after your professor talked to you, it didn’t take too long for the boy in question to come up to you and ask you for help himself. You and Jinyoung were studying in the library when you felt a presence join the two of you. Once you looked up to see who it was, you had to do a double take when he took a seat across of you and a frown immediately rose upon your face.

“What are you doing here Tuan?” Mark ignored the disgusted groan that came from your best friend and gave you his direct attention.

“I know professor Kim talked to you about possibly tutoring me in English and I’m pretty sure you declined. So I’m here, asking you myself to prove to you that I’m serious about wanting to raise my grade. I can’t afford to fail y/n and I know you’re my only hope. I’ll do anything. Please.” You let out a scoff and you couldn’t help but stifle back a laugh at the look of anger on Jinyoung’s face.

Jinyoung may not look like someone who could fight, but when it came to you; he would do anything. Which is why you were sure he was very close to jumping across the table and smacking the arrogant smirk off of Mark’s face. As you were about to open your mouth to respond, Jinyoung beat you to it.

“Absolutely not. There’s no way in hell she’ll do that for you. She has a lot more to worry about than your failing grades. You should’ve thought about your education before putting your head between the legs of random girls.” Your eyes widened in shock at Jinyoung’s sudden outburst but Mark was quick to retaliate.

“Scared your little girlfriend is the next person who’s thighs I’ll be in between next? Don’t bother. You’re cute and all y/n, but don’t think so highly of yourself because of what a great student you are. And I wasn’t asking you Park Jinyoung. I was asking our pretty little princess here. Although y/n, if it’s sex that you want in order to get you to tutor me, I wouldn’t mind blowing your back out—“ Everything happened so fast that it took you a while to process the scene going on in front of you. As soon as Mark mentioned hooking up with you, Jinyoung was on his feet and immediately lunged at the older boy. He gripped at his collar and pulled Mark up so that he was standing face to face with him.

“You lay a finger on her, and I’ll make sure you’ll be crossing the graduation stage in a wheel chair. That’s if you graduate punk ass. Now leave.” Mark yanked Jinyoung’s hands off of him before scoffing.

“I’m not afraid of someone like you.” He turned to you and gave you a knowing glance. “Please think about it y/n. And don’t let lover boy here make the decision for you.” Once Mark was gone, you walked over to Jinyoung and took a look at him to make sure he was okay. He pulled you in to his chest and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Please promise me you won’t waste your time on someone like him. He doesn’t deserve your help. He’ll only use you y/n and you’re worth so much more than that. I don’t care how much extra credit professor Kim is offering you, it isn’t worth it and neither is he.” You ran your fingers gently through Jinyoung’s hair and sighed. Your cheeks warmed up at the thought of how protective Jinyoung was over you. It was sweet and sometimes you wondered why the two of you weren’t more than just friends. It was obvious that Jinyoung cared about you and you made it known that you felt the same. But you never had romantic feelings towards him, as much as you wanted to.

You knew Jinyoung would take good care of you, and you did get jealous whenever you saw how close some girls would get to him. Although, you couldn’t blame them for fawning over him. Jinyoung, in lack of better words was gorgeous. He was definitely a sight for sore eyes and you were sure he could be a model or even an actor if he really wanted to. But you just didn’t see him as anything more than just a friend and a part of you felt that it was because you were afraid to lose him if things didn’t work out between the two of you.

You sighed against his neck before nodding in agreement, however; deep down you knew you were going to go along with tutoring Mark. If he was willing to go through the lengths of asking you for your help personally, you knew he was serious about doing better in school.

A few days after the incident in the library, you built up the courage to go up to Mark and tell him that you’d go along with tutoring him. To say he was shocked was an understatement. After getting in to an argument with Jinyoung and saying some mean things about you just a few days prior, he didn’t think you’d give in. In fact, after saying such degrading things about you, he’d thought you’d be disgusted and want nothing to do with him. Which is why he was confused to hear that you were willing to help him bump up his grade. He wasn’t too sure what got you to agree, but he wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass him by.

“So I’m taking it that your boy toy has no clue that you’re here right now and that you’re agreeing to tutor me.” You stared at the ground and shook your head in disagreement. Mark brought his fingers down to your chin and lifted it so that you were making eye contact with him. You weren’t going to lie, as much as you wanted to hate the arrogant and narcissistic boy standing in front of you, his touch did send shivers down your spine. But you were quick to shove his hand away before raising your finger up at him in disgust.

“I’m going to set some ground rules Tuan-“ he gave you a smirk.

“Ooh, my last name. I’m so scared.” The glare you sent him got him to shut up and you released an exasperated sigh.

“This stays between you and I. Got it? Nobody is to know that I’m tutoring you and if I find out from anyone else that I’ve been helping you, this whole thing is over. Don’t you dare try to take advantage of me. Oh, and don’t touch me. We will meet under my schedule, I’m the one helping you after all and don’t do anything you know is going to piss me off. I’m a nice person, but I don’t liked to be fucked with.” He sniggered.

“Maybe that’s why you’re so uptight. Jinyoung isn’t giving you what you want huh? I’m sure I could fix your attitude if you just let me-“ You threw your hands up in defeat and began to walk away, but Mark’s reflexes were faster. He gripped your wrist and pulled you in to him, earning himself a groan.

“Is that all you think about? Sex? No wonder why you’re failing. I’m honestly beginning to regret this.” Mark gave you an expressionless look. He had a hard time understanding why you were actually wanting to help him. It was clear that you hated his guts and wanted nothing to do with him. And although your professor probably offered you extra credit, he was sure it wasn’t enough to get you to give up your pride and help him out. So what was it?

“Y/n. Why are you wanting to help me? I’m an asshole and I’m obviously not deserving. Did professor Kim pay you? Did my parents set you up to this? What is it?” You shrugged. One thing you hated about yourself was how nice you could be sometimes.

As much as you wanted Mark to solve this problem on his own, you wouldn’t be able to live normally without the guilt eating away at you. Like your professor said, you were his only hope. You didn’t care about the offers you were given; you were a straight a student with a 4.3 g.p.a. What more could you really need?

“I like helping others I guess. But don’t take advantage of it. I’m already busy as it is. If I feel as if you’re not putting your all in to our study sessions, I’ll stop them altogether.”

He lifted up his pinky and reached for yours, twisting them together. “I promise. Thank you for this, I promise you won’t regret it. Well, see you tomorrow then y/n.”

In the first few days of tutoring him, you found yourself getting frustrated with Mark. Although you made it completely clear in the beginning that the two of you would meet on your time, he was always running late. One time, you waited almost an hour in the coffee shop and right before you picked up your things and left, he came storming in; murmuring countless apologies and telling you how it wouldn’t happen again.

Most of the time the both of you spent together was solely focused on helping him with his English homework. But then the brought up that he wasn’t doing too well in math and science also. He would try to have small talk here and there, but you weren’t having any of it. You told him countless times that you weren’t there for anything more than to tutor him and after a while, he accepted it.

To your delight, Mark was a good listener and fast learner. You couldn’t help but notice the many glances he would steal and how you could feel his eyes on you from time to time. It would always send warmth to your cheeks, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for things like that. After a month of your help, his grades began to rise but he still needed your help. He became more of a gentleman the longer he spent time with you. Since you were helping him, he would pay for your coffee and sometimes bring you a snack to all of your sessions.

Unfortunately, the two of you ended up having to exchange phone numbers in order to plan out your tutoring sessions, but after a while you actually liked texting him. At first, he would only text you when he had a question on some homework, but then it turned in to memes that he found funny, videos that he thought you’d like and sometimes he would ask you how you were doing. You tried so hard not to fall for his charm, but it was hard because he was always so sweet to you.

Two months in to your lessons, you took note that he would always compliment you on every little thing. Whether it be your clothes, the way you did your makeup or the way you styled your hair, he never failed to tell you how pretty you were or how cute you looked. And he always made sure to tell you how smart he thought you were and how he could only wish to be even half of an amazing student as you were.

Mark wasn’t aware of how you’d get home whenever the two of you would finish your sessions together; you’d always tell him to go first so you could finish your homework before heading back to your apartment. So when he saw you walking back to your place one night after the two of you finished around 10:00 p.m. he felt worried and he hated himself for not offering you a ride home.

He turned his car around and sped towards you. In the beginning, this was just a game to him. He would get free lessons from you and get to have his way with you if things ended the way he wanted them to. However, three months after getting to know you, he realized that he no longer wanted to use you, nor did he want to take advantage of your kindness and generosity. He was falling for you and he had no intentions of stopping.

Mark liked every little thing about you. People say nobody’s perfect, but he was sure you came pretty close. You were beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The way you smiled with your eyes, laughed at his jokes like he was the funniest person on earth and blushed at his compliments captivated Mark in ways no one ever has before. He found himself wanting to be the reason behind your contagious smile, he wanted to be the one you ran to when times got hard and to be the one you confide in when you feel as if the whole world was against you. He wanted to be the one who got to love you.

He was scared, he’s never felt this way about anyone before. Mark wanted to protect you from everything evil. However, he failed to realize he would be the one he’d have to protect you from.

The honking from behind you startled you to say the least, and you knew you had nothing to protect yourself with if someone were to try and kidnap you. But once he got out of the car and made his way toward you, taking your things and walking back to his car, you released a sigh of relief.

“Yn, get in.” You were hesitant, but you found yourself climbing in the passenger seat anyway. You quietly thanked him while looking out your window to prevent him from seeing the small grin you were now wearing.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been walking home this entire time? I could’ve been dropping you off. It’s dangerous out there you know.”

It’s more dangerous in here, alone with you. Unfortunately, you broke the promise you made to yourself. You had developed feelings for Mark, but it was inevitable for you to do so. You were around him almost every day. His optimism and the fact that he was actually trying when it came to his work and his grades made your tummy warm. It was as if he wanted to prove to you that your lessons were worth it and that he wanted to make you proud.

Then came the phone calls in the wee hours of the morning. Mark found a confidant in you; he would tell you things you were sure he wouldn’t dare telling anyone else. You were well aware of who his friends were and how they could be. If they heard how he was afraid of not getting in to the engineering program at UCLA, they would’ve laughed in his face. But he felt safe with you, he knew you wouldn’t judge him and he knew you would encourage him to pursue his dreams. He trusted you and he’s never trusted anyone before.

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, but it was a peaceful silence. You found yourself sneaking glances at him, basking in his attractiveness and how concentrated he looked when driving. As much as you wanted to stop yourself from liking him, it was too late. You were in too deep. All too quickly, he pulled up to your complex and parked his car. Before you could thank him and say your goodbyes, he was walking to open your door and grabbed your things.

“Here, I’ll walk you up. I want to make sure you get up safely.” It’s as if he knew you were about to decline; he began walking towards your lobby and waited for you to lead the way.

“It’s okay Mark. I’m a big girl, I can walk by myself—“ he placed his finger on your lips in order to get you keep quiet, but it only made things harder for you. Once the two of you made it up to your door, you thanked him one more time and grabbed your things. He had a blank expression on his face and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. As you were about to speak up, his lips were on yours.

His lips tasted like hot chocolate and potato chips; an odd combination that you were now very fond of because it reminded you of him. You would find yourself staring at his lips every so often, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. But you would push the thought away to the back of your mind every time you thought about being intimate with him.

Red flags were going off in your head, but you ignored them. One of his hands made their way down to your waist as the other one roughly cupped your cheek. Your hands wrapped around his neck and you found yourself deepening the kiss. You couldn’t explain how amazing kissing Mark felt. It was as if your entire body was on fire and he was the only thing to put the flame out.

Feeling him moan in to your mouth as you bit down on to his bottom lip sent a tingling sensation to your core and that’s when you decided to pull away. You didn’t care how badly you wanted him in that moment, you weren’t going to completely give yourself to Mark anytime soon and you were going to make it known to him that you weren’t just a toy he could play with and discard when he was done with you.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. But fuck, that was amazing—“ you gave him a soft smile before running your fingers through his hair.

“Don’t apologize, I wanted that as much as you probably did. I um..I should get going. Thank you again for tonight, see you tomorrow?” He beamed up at you and you could feel your stomach swarm with butterflies. He placed one more kiss on the corner of your lips before waving goodbye to you. It all felt so surreal. If someone were to tell you months ago that you’d be making out with Mark Tuan of all people, you’d laugh in their face. But it happened, and you couldn’t be more excited to see how things were going to go for the both of you.

Once you walked in to your apartment, the huge grin you were wearing soon fell when you saw Jinyoung with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. Being both your roommate and your best friend, you would always let Jinyoung know of your whereabouts and if you were coming home late. However, when he didn’t hear from you and you didn’t respond to his text or phone calls, he got worried. You’ve been acting pretty secretive lately and although he didn’t think he had the right to get involved in your business, he couldn’t help but feel as if you were hiding something from him.

Jinyoung was like an open book, he told you everything and anything about himself. He was very vocal to you about his dreams and goals to his self doubts and insecurities. He told you all about the girls he had crushes on and cried in to your shoulder whenever he got his heart broken. So when he was about to go on a manhunt for you and walked outside only to see you kissing Mark, he was furious. Did he not warn you all those months ago about how Mark was bad news and not to waste your time with him? How long have you been seeing him for? Jinyoung couldn’t help but feel angry, but that’s because he cared about you. Sometimes, a little too much.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on?” You looked at him in curiosity and shrugged. You were sure he saw what just happened, so there was no use in lying to him. However, you’ve never seen Jinyoung so upset over something before. One time, his friend Yugyeom asked to borrow his car and even if Jinyoung declined many times, he found himself giving in to the younger boy. Just a few hours later, he got a call from a towing company, saying that his car has been towed because it was parked in a no parking zone. Jinyoung was furious and didn’t speak to Yugyeom for weeks. You were sure tonight was going to end just as badly as that night did.

“I’ve been tutoring him.” Jinyoung looked at you as if you grew another head.

“After I told you not to? After I warned you about him? Y/n, I’m sure you know all about him. He’s going to break your heart right after he gets what he wants. He doesn’t like you, he likes your body and the fact that you’ve been tutoring him for free is just a bonus. This was his plan after all. He’s going to fuck you and dump you like he does every girl in the fucking school. I can’t believe this.”

Hearing him say such mean things about you broke your heart. Jinyoung never bad mouthed you and fought anybody who did. Jackson Wang found himself with a black eye after Jinyoung heard him call you such degrading names when you bumped in to him at a club once. It was times like this where you felt as if Jinyoung had feelings for you, but you were too afraid to bring it up. You continued to let him say what he wanted to; you were too hurt to say anything back. But what was there to say? As much as you wanted to believe Mark liked you and would take care of you, Jinyoung had a point.

When he saw you tearing up, he wanted nothing more than to pull you in to his embrace and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while apologizing for hurting your feelings; but he was too frustrated with the situation and he was afraid he was going to say something that would end your friendship completely.

Once he was done with his rant, he stormed in to his room and slammed the door, leaving you on the living room floor crying hysterically. The last thing you wanted to do was upset your best friend, but you were afraid that this was going to happen. That’s why you kept Mark a secret the entire time. The next morning, you got a text from Mark asking if you wanted to go out for breakfast to which you were quick to agree to.

After hearing Jinyoung mention that Mark was only using you, you became hesitant of spending time with him. You were afraid that Jinyoung’s words were the truth and that Mark would hurt you in the end. But your stupid heart craved him. Therefore, you found yourself getting ready to go see him. You put on a cute little sundress and applied a light amount of makeup. When you saw the dried tears from last night, your heart began to hurt at the thought of Jinyoung’s disappointed face; but you couldn’t let him get to you.

You were old enough to make your own decisions and if it came back later to bite you in the ass, then so be it. Mark let you know that he was there, so you grabbed your bag and made your way to the living room. When you saw that Jinyoung’s door was shut, you wanted to go and apologize but you didn’t want to make him even more upset. You made your way downstairs and a smile rose upon your face when Mark came in to view. His expression quickly mirrored yours when you came in to view and he immediately pulled you in to his embrace before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Hey baby. You look beautiful as always. Shall we?” You nodded in agreement. For the next month, you fell in love with him. He explained his feelings for you on the second date and every single detail made your head spin. The way he described you with so much beauty and grace made your heart combust and you’ve caught him looking at you as if you were the one who set the stars in the sky on multiple occasions.

Unfortunately, you and Jinyoung haven’t talked since the night he found out about you and Mark, but you were so occupied with Mark that you didn’t really notice his absence. However, you did find yourself missing him and Mark took notice at how you were never completely happy no matter how much you tried to play yourself out to be. Your smile no longer reached your eyes and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew it was because of Jinyoung.

“Babe.” The two of you were over at his place watching a movie when you felt him tug on your shirt. “Let’s go.” You looked at him in confusion.

“Go where?” He gave you a sad smile before getting up, carefully pulling you up with him.

“We’re gonna go to your place and you’re going to make things right with Jinyoung. I hate seeing you so distressed. You’re not yourself these days. I miss hearing that beautiful laugh of yours that I love so much. And don’t try to deny it. You’re not happy baby and I want to make things right, no matter how much I hate Park Jinyoung.”

It wasn’t that Mark hated Jinyoung. In fact, he was extremely jealous of the younger boy; though he would never voice his worries to you. You and Jinyoung had a very close bond. The two of you were attached to the hip and although you and Mark had something as of right now, he was sure that if you had to choose between the two, you’d go with Jinyoung. From an outsiders point of view, the two of you were sure to be a couple. That’s why it came as a shock to Mark when you told him there was nothing going on between you and Jinyoung.

However, he couldn’t help but feel as if the reason why Jinyoung was so protective over you was because he had feelings for you and he couldn’t blame him. The thought worried Mark, he hated thinking that there was a reason he would lose you. Things were going so well between the two of you and he finally came to terms with the fact that he was in love with you.

The drive back to your place was nerve wrecking. You weren’t even sure if Jinyoung was home. He hasn’t been home during the times you were and you knew he made it that way. Mark’s free hand found yours and he gently grazed your wrist with his thumb. “It’ll be okay baby. He’ll come around.”

Your heart felt so warm knowing that Mark wanted you to reconcile with Jinyoung even if you were completely aware that the two boys weren’t fond of each other. He was willing to do whatever he could in order to make you happy again and it only made your feelings for him grow stronger. When you and Mark pulled up to your building, he told you he’d stay in the car while waiting for you and to let him know if you needed him to come upstairs.

Once you got in to your apartment, it didn’t take you long to find him. Jinyoung was standing at the kitchen counter with a beer in his hands. When his eyes landed on you, he looked as if he wanted to walk towards you but stopped himself from doing so. You felt as if your heartstrings were getting pulled at and you were sure if things didn’t end the way you had planned them to tonight, Park Jinyoung would be the one to rip your heart out completely.

“Hey.” He nodded in your direction before taking a chug of his beer. Jinyoung wasn’t a drinker. The only time he ever drank was when he was nervous or pissed off and you knew it was the latter. You made your way towards him and stole the beer out of his hands before taking a sip of it yourself.

“Can we talk. Please?” He released a long sigh before nodding and making his way towards the couch. The two of you sat in silence for a couple of minutes, neither of you knowing what to say. You opened your mouth to speak up, but he beat you to it.

“Where’s lover boy?” You nervously bit your lip and shrugged.

“He’s waiting downstairs.” Jinyoung took another swig at his beer and took a quick look at you. He knew the distance between you both was having a toll on you. You lost a few pounds, the eye bags under your eyes were dominant and your eyes no longer held the beautiful glow in them that he adored so much. Was this because the two of you weren’t talking? He must’ve looked just as bad as you did if not worse.

When you felt him graze your arm, you knew things were okay. Jinyoung could never stay mad at you, he had the biggest soft spot for you and you were one of the only people he needed in his life.

“I’m sorry.” You looked at him in confusion. Why was he sorry? “I overreacted and ended up putting our friendship on the line. I didn’t meant to stay away for so long. I’m just a stubborn asshole. I’ve missed you so much. Fuck y/n, I would honestly rather you date a monkey than that asshole. You know I only acted like that because I care about you right? Your happiness means a lot to me and I know how Mark is. I don’t want him breaking your heart. I’ll kill him if he ever does.” You softly giggled.

“I’m not worth going to jail for Jinyoung.” He shook his head in disagreement before pulling you on to his lap.

“I’d do anything for you. Remember that. These last few weeks without you have been torture and I learned that I can’t physically live without you. Please don’t hide things from me anymore. I can’t promise you he and I will be friends, but we can at least be cordial for your sake. He um..he’s taking good care of you right?”

You nodded in agreement before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you through Jinyoung. I promise to be a better friend, I hate not having you in my life. You’re my best friend, I refuse to be without you anymore. You’ll always be the most important man in my life. Remember that.”

After a few minutes of catching up and continuing your apologies, he sent you on your way. When you got in to Mark’s car, he was quick to notice the wide grin on your face and his heart fluttered. Your smile did wonders to him.

“I’m taking things ended well?” You nodded in agreement as the two of you made your way back to his place. Mark had asked you to be his girlfriend almost two months after your first date and you could honestly say you felt as if you were on cloud nine. He was the perfect boyfriend. Your happiness was his main focus and he did whatever he could in order to make you happy. He never forced you in to doing anything you didn’t want to and allowed you to set the pace of your relationship.

The two of you were kept a secret, but you liked it that way. You didn’t want anyone else being involved in your relationship. A huge part of you felt that if people were to find out about you and Mark, that’s when things would go downhill. You could tell Mark really did change his ways to impress you and you knew that as much as he wanted to take things slow with you, he was slowly losing his resolve. Every time the two of you made out, you could tell he wanted to take things further with you, but you just weren’t ready to give yourself to him just yet. Which is why Mark would excuse himself to the bathroom almost every single time things got hot and heavy and helped himself with the problem in his pants before returning back to you.

However, you were becoming just as impatient as he was and your body craved to be one with your boyfriend. One night, you were over at Mark’s place, attempting to help him study; but one thing led to another and the two of you found yourself making out on his bed. His hands made their way all around your body as his tongue left marks along the juncture of your neck and jaw. You could feel him against your thigh and the feeling sent shivers down your spine. When he noticed his painful and fast growing erection, he tried to pry you off in order to find means of release, but you were quick to continue your ministrations of grinding on to his thigh.

“Y/n—“ Hearing him moan in to your ear was an indescribable feeling and you could feel your core begin to throb.

“I trust you Mark. Take me please. I’m all yours.” The animalistic growl that came from the back of his throat didn’t go unnoticed to you and you found yourself rubbing your thighs together in order to create any sort of friction to help your building orgasm.

Mark was well aware that you were a virgin, you explained to him many times that you wanted to wait for the right person to lose your virginity to. Seeing the way Mark looked at you with so much love and admiration in his eyes; you knew he was the one you wanted to give yourself to.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you baby. I promise.” He placed gentle kisses along your face before dragging his fingertips along your body. His lips marked their territory along your chest, sucking and nipping at your clothed breasts before ultimately ripping your bra off; earning himself a whine from you.

“Mark! That was my favorite bra!” He giggled in to your neck.

“I’ll buy you more princess. Now hush. It’s time to eat.” He played with both of your breasts before taking one completely in to his mouth whilst playing with your other one, massaging your breast and twisting at your nipple. You couldn’t fathom in to words how good this all felt. He knew exactly what to do to make you squirm. When he was done loving on your breasts, he made his way down to your extremely soaking pussy. He brought his finger to your slit and all but gently traced his index finger against it, collecting some of your juices and bringing it in to his mouth.

“Mmm, you taste so good and you’re so fucking wet.” He shoved his two fingers inside of your cunt and began to pump, causing you to moan and release the most erotic sighs. Your facial expressions only made Mark harder to the point where he needed to distract himself. He finally lowered himself to where you needed him the most and kissed your inner thighs before taking the time to suck and nibble on them.

You tried pushing his head towards your entrance so that he would get the hint that you needed him to do anything to help the hot sensation between your legs but he continued to tease you. It wasn’t until he heard you beg that he finally gave you what you wanted. When you felt him lick a strip along your center, you almost screamed but you were quick to bit your lip in order to keep the noise at a minimum.

The grip he had on your thighs and hearing him lick and slurp against your very sopping pussy brought you closer to the edge. To your dismay, he pulled away in order order to catch his breath and to see the effect it was having on you. Seeing him smile so innocently while he was doing such a sinful act made you chuckle, but it was soon replaced by a moan when he reattached his lips to your clit. The feeling of him eating you out while pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace was sending you over the moon.

You tried your best to gently tug on his hair, but the faster and harder he went only made you get rougher yourself. In his previous experiences, your boyfriend hated hair pulling. It always interrupted him because of how painful it was. But seeing the effect his fingers and his tongue had on you and feeling you tug on his curly locks only turned him on more. He loved the feeling of your long, dainty fingers pulling at his hair. It just proved how much you were enjoying his ministrations.

Soon, you felt yourself releasing all over his tongue and your boyfriend lapped all of your juices up. He made his way back up to you and placed a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips. “How was that princess? You taste amazing by the way. I could eat you out for hours.”

You smirked up at him. “It seems as though I’ve been missing out on such a mind blowing experience. That was wonderful, thank you.”

He got up from the bed and made his way toward his dresser, taking out a condom and returning back to his spot in bed. “Y/n, you sure you want this? We can wait baby. You know I’ll wait however long you need me to. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to—FUCK.” You playfully brought your hands in to his sweats and began to palm him through his underwear. However, Mark was quick to stop your teasing all together.

He pulled off both his sweats and his underwear before placing the condom on to his hardened cock. He was huge. You’ve heard a couple of your friends talk about their first times and a part of you was nervous of the stretch they all seemed to talk about. From every experience you’ve heard about, it was painful. But you trusted your boyfriend and you knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. He lined himself at your entrance and dragged himself along your folds to lubricate himself.

“It’s going to hurt a little in the beginning, so tell me if you need me to stop. But I promise it will feel so good later.” He slowly brought himself inside of you and you bit your lip to try and hide how painful it was. When Mark saw your uncomfortable facial expression, he connected your lips together in order to take your mind off of the pain. However, you knew your boyfriend was having a hard time staying inside of you and not doing anything.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?” You pinched at his bicep and quietly let him know that it was okay to move. He released a sigh of relief before pumping in to you. “Fuck, you’re so tight and extremely wet. You’re taking me so well baby. So, so good. Just like that.” With every thrust, the pain was replaced with pleasure and you began to beg your boyfriend to go faster.

“Mark..baby..I need you to go f—faster. Please. F—fuck.” Your boyfriend pounded in to you at such a rapid pace and you loved every single second of it. His hands that were gripping tightly on to your waist made their way up to your hands and he intertwined the two together. Seeing your beautiful mounds bounce as he pumped himself in to you was an erotic sight for Mark and he couldn’t take it, it was all too much.

“Y/n, I love you. I love you so fucking much baby. You’re mine. All mine.” Hearing those three words fall from his lips was an indescribable feeling. You didn’t think people like Mark were capable of love, but you knew he was sincere and meant every single word.

“Please tell me you’re close. I don’t want to come before you do. Fuck baby, you’re actually going to be the death of me.” After a few more minutes of skin on skin slapping, countless moans, grunts and murmurs of sweet nothings, you were coming all over his cock. With the way you were clenching around him, Mark came not too long afterwards. He plopped down on your chest and connected your lips together before resting his face in between your breasts.

You gently ran your fingers through his hair and smile softly at him. “Mark?” He looked up at you with the cutest look of curiosity on his face and hummed. “Did you mean it? You love me?” He happily nodded in agreement before placing a long, passionate kiss on your lips.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re an ethereal being y/n. I cannot fathom in to words how wonderful you are. You’re an actual dream baby. By the way, that was mind blowing. I’m never going to get enough of you. How are you even real?” You giggled against his neck and pulled him closer to you, the need to be near him was unreal.

“How was that? Was I okay? I know I probably didn’t know what I was doing and I’m sure you’ve been with girls with more experience—“ he placed a finger against your lips to silence you before pushing some of your hair back.

“You were amazing y/n. I‘m having a hard time believing this was your first time. You took me so well. You’re actually the best sex I’ve had and I’m sure it’s because you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and the only girl I ever plan on loving.” Tears started to brim at your eyelids and he gently kissed them away before they had a chance to fall. “Come on love, let’s go to bed.”

From that day on, the two of you had a sexual awakening. He meant it when he said once he’s had a taste of you, he wouldn’t get enough. The two of you relinquished in your love pretty much anywhere, the thought of someone catching you only heightened your excitement. Unfortunately, you were too busy falling in love with Mark to notice the world going on around you.

It wasn’t until your friend pulled you to the side to ask you what was going on that made you realize your fairytale was soon to become a nightmare.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. We’re not even friends.” You remembered the pact the two of you made about nobody knowing of your relationship and now you felt as if Mark purposely made it that way. He claimed to have wanted to protect you, but you couldn’t help but feel as if he was ashamed of your relationship and was trying to hide you. She furrowed her brows in confusion before continuing.

“Well you better go set him straight then. He’s telling everyone he took your virginity and that you’ve been begging him to sleep with you again.” Her words sent you in to a frenzy and you became numb. You could only hope and pray that what she was saying wasn’t true. But Jinyoung’s words were coming back to haunt you.

He’s only going to break your heart once he gets what he wants.

You made your way to the cafeteria where you were sure he was and searched the crowed for your boyfriend. When you finally found him, you marched over towards him and released a frustrated sigh when you noticed he wasn’t alone. There was nothing more you hated than Mark’s unfortunate group of friends. They were all fuck boys and some of the biggest narcissistic assholes in your school. You never understood how Mark could be friends with such losers, but you weren’t one to tell your boyfriend how to live his life. Bambam was the first one to spot you and when he did, the obnoxious boy began to whistle.

“Look what we have here. Isn’t it the beautiful y/n. Was Mark’s dick that good that you came back for more?” Strike one. You ignored him and made your way towards Mark.

“We need to talk.” The rest of his friends began to boo as you grew impatient while waiting for his response.

“Ooooh Markie, she wants to talk. Get in line princess. There’s hundreds of girls waiting to hook up with him, what makes you any special?” Strike two. The fact that Mark wasn’t speaking up sent a jab to your heart and you could feel it slowly breaking with every second you were waiting for him to defend you, to fight for you. But you were left with nothing.

“Get out of here y/n.” You could tell in his eyes he was pleading for you to leave, it was obvious things were going to get ugly. You could tell he was trying to nonverbally communicate with you that he would talk to you later, but you saw a side of him that you had thought no longer existed. The boy who listened to what his friends would say. The boy who cared about his reputation more than anything else. Obviously more than you. The person sitting in front of you wasn’t your boyfriend, you didn’t know who he was. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to get it off of your chest, even if it meant walking away single.

“Why are you telling people we’ve slept together?” He scoffed before standing up and walking toward you.

“Because we did. Is there a problem with that? Most girls flaunt off the fact that they’ve hooked up with me. That’s the reason why you agreed to tutor me so easily isn’t it? Because you wanted to get in my pants? God y/n, girls like you are pathetic. Face it, girls like you could never get a guy like me no matter how hard you try. You’re nothing but a pretty face, brains and some nice tits. Just like many other girls in this school. Like BamBam said, you’re nothing special. If anything, you should’ve listened to Jinyoung. I was only using you to tutor me. Not only did I raise my grades with your help, but I got pretty good sex too. Practically a steal if you ask me. You were a good fuck, I’m not going to lie. But that’s all you’ll ever be to me. A good fuck—“

Strike three. The loud slap could be heard throughout the entire cafeteria to the point where all heads were turned in your direction. You couldn’t respond, couldn’t process what he just said. You were humiliated; you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. All you could do was smack him across the face as tears built up in your eyes but you refused to cry in front of him. He wasn’t worth your tears. You knew he didn’t mean a word he said.

Your Mark, the love of your life; you were sure he was replaced by some monster. The Mark you were in love with would never do anything to hurt you, yet here he was, making a fool out of you, the only person he claimed to have any meaning to him in order to impress his stupid friends.

“I am so stupid. I should’ve never fallen in love with you. I should’ve known you would do this. You are the biggest piece of shit in all mankind. You’re pathetic Mark Tuan. You know what? Fuck you. I hope you had fun wasting my time. I never want to see your face ever again.” You stormed out of the cafeteria and ran as fast as you could. You didn’t know where you were going, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that you needed to get the hell out of there before people started to come up to you. Before you could open your locker, you felt somebody tug at your wrist and thinking it was Mark, you roughly pushed the person away until you heard him softly call out your name.

“Y/n, hey. It’s me. Come on, let’s go home.” Jinyoung grabbed your things and reached for your hand. However, it was apparent that you had no energy to walk, so he bent down in order for you to climb on to his shoulders. In most situations, you would decline his offer to carry you. However, Jinyoung knew you better than anyone else. Your mind wasn’t completely there and he knew your heart was broken. He was afraid he wouldn’t be enough to fix it.

He just so happened to be in the cafeteria when the confrontation happened and as much as he wanted to beat the shit out of Mark for publicly humiliating you, you were his main focus in that moment. He carried you to his car and placed you in the passenger seat. You felt empty, as if all the life was sucked out of you completely. Mark said those words so easily, as if he meant every single one of them. You should’ve left when he told you to, but it was better that you didn’t. You got to see his true colors; got to see what his priorities were and you obviously weren’t one of them.

Once Jinyoung parked, he walked over to your side and picked you up bridal style before carrying you up to your apartment. As soon as the two of you entered, he brought you in to his room and lied you on his bed before joining you and pulling you in to his embrace. He didn’t want to say anything, he was going to wait for you to react before doing anything. When you began to cry, Jinyoung was sure his heart was breaking with every sob. If there was anything Park Jinyoung hated; other than Mark Tuan and his stupid group of friends, it was seeing you cry. Being friends with you for years allowed Jinyoung to see it all. The good, the bad and the ugly. However, this was by far the worst thing that had ever happened to you. All he could do was run his fingers through your hair and gently rub your back in order to calm you down.

After a good hour of crying in to his chest, your breathing became steady and you looked up at Jinyoung with the saddest smile on your face.

“Say it.” He looked down at you and frowned.

“Say what?” You shrugged.

“I told you so. I should’ve listened to you. You’re always right. I don’t know why I thought this situation was any different. I’m so fucking stupid.” He was quick to shake his head in disagreement before gently pinching your cheek.

“You’re not stupid. He said all the right things that made you fall for him. Hell, I even fell for his act. He seemed to have genuinely cared about you y/n and I don’t doubt that he does. He just made the wrong decision and now he’s going to pay for it. But please don’t be so hard on yourself. If anyone is stupid, it’s your dumb ass ex boyfriend. He just lost the best thing that’s ever happened to him and for what? His playboy reputation? Friends who obviously could give less of a shit about him? Girls who could never hold a candle to you? What a fucking piece of shit. I’m gonna kill him, I’m telling you. Nobody hurts my girl and gets away with it.”

You looked up at him and softly pecked his cheek. “I feel like shit. It’s as if he ripped my heart from out of my chest and stepped on it countless times. Am I really that worthless and pathetic like he said I am Jinyoung? Is that all I’m really good for? A one night stand? Am I not worthy of being loved by someone? Everything he said to me was a lie. I hate him. I never want to see or talk to him ever again.” Your best friend frowned before pulling you closer to his chest. He hated hearing you talk so negatively about yourself. You were the most beautiful human being to exist. You deserved the world and more. Why would Mark throw away everything that happened between the two of you just to seem high and mighty to his friends? You couldn’t process it.

Jinyoung knew that he had to do something in order to get back at Mark; he just didn’t know what he could do without getting in to too much trouble. A black eye was too easy; Jackson’s healed up in a few days. He wanted to hit Mark where it hurts; and that’s when an idea popped in to his head. But he was going to give you a few days to rest and recover before telling you of his plans. After all the crying and stress you went through, you found yourself falling asleep pretty quickly. Jinyoung took this time to admire you and wished that you would bounce back from this. Nobody deserved heartbreak, especially not you. You were always so quick to put others before yourself and Jinyoung was aware that you put Mark on such a high pedestal. Which is why he knew his idea would practically ruin Mark and he could only hope that you’d want to go along with it.

The next day, you woke up to an empty bed, but you noticed you were changed in to one of Jinyoung’s shirts. You smiled at the realization, he must’ve helped you change right before he left. It didn’t take you long to notice the letter on his desk explaining that he went to school and left breakfast for you on the stove. He also prepared some of your favorite movies and a few bottles of alcohol for when you were in the mood. You slowly made your way in to the bathroom and sarcastically laughed when you saw how horrible you looked. Why did you allow such a stupid boy to do this to you? As much as you wanted to avoid looking at your phone in case Mark tried to get in touch with you, you wanted to thank Jinyoung for taking care of you.

A part of you was worried of what he was capable of doing to Mark at school, especially since you wouldn’t be there, but you didn’t care. He broke your heart, so you wouldn’t mind if Jinyoung broke his face. You weren’t surprised when you saw the 32 text messages 19 missed calls and 12 voicemails all from Mark, but you just weren’t ready to read or listen to any of them. You just wanted to get drunk and sleep the day away. As you were twenty minutes in to watching Friends, the knock on your door got your attention.

“Y/n, we need to talk. Open up. I know you’re in there.” Hearing his voice after only 24 hours brought so many feelings to you. Anger. Hurt. Pain. Humiliation. However; it only made you realize how much you missed him and how much you still loved him. Even after what he put you through, you weren’t going to lose feelings for him overnight. But what good would it do if you were to open the door? If anything, you’d be making a big mistake if you were to let him in. Letting him in to your apartment meant letting him back in to your life and there was no way you could forgive him as of right now.

“Y/n please. I can explain. I made a mistake. A huge fucking mistake. You know I didn’t mean anything I said. I know you know I love you with every fiber of my pathetic being. Fuck baby, I’m so fucking sorry. Please open up. You need to know I’m not the one who started telling people that we hooked up. I don’t know how he got my phone, but Jackson read our text messages and opened his big ass mouth. Please open up. I need to see you. I’m nothing without you. Please.” His voice cracked when he said the last few sentences and you were sure it broke your heart even more if that was possible. Your heart begged for you to open the door, but your mind stood it’s ground.

You called Jinyoung and let him know Mark was outside and that you didn’t know what to do. He told you to stay put and to not allow him in. You knew exactly what would happen if you allowed him inside. Plus, you had nothing to say. This man used you, broke you and acted as if you were nothing. Silly you for believing you could be the one who could change his ways. He continued to knock and cry for what felt like hours until you heard another voice outside. Jinyoung was home and you couldn’t be more happier.

You heard him telling Mark to leave and threatening him to call the cops in which Mark was quick to retaliate. You knew Mark wasn’t going to leave without seeing you, so with the tiny amount of courage and strength you had left, you opened the door and pulled Jinyoung inside.

“Go Mark. I meant it when I said I never want to see you again.” The tears welling up in his eyes and his broken expression made you tear up yourself, but the tight grip on your waist prevented you from doing anything you’d regret.

“Please..hear me out y/n. I can’t lose you.” You sent a chilling glare in his direction.

“You already lost me when you decided I wasn’t as important to you as your fucking ego. Now get out of here before I scream.” He looked as if he was crying all night. His eyes were extremely red and his cheeks were puffy; but you didn’t care. He deserved it. Jinyoung slammed the door in his face before pulling you in to his chest.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t come home sooner. How are you feeling?” You began to cry in his chest again and he gave you a couple of minutes to let it all out before bringing you back in to his room. It seemed as if all you were capable of was crying. Jinyoung sighed when he saw the food still out on the counter, he was completely aware that you had no appetite. But he knew there was only one type of food you would eat no matter how upset you were. When he got up from the bed and made his way outside, you let out a small whine but you were still too numb to get up and see where he went.

Just a few minutes later, he came back with a container of ice cream and a glass of wine. You smiled tiredly at him before he handed you the tub and made space for him on the bed. To your surprise, he picked you up and pulled you on to his lap, taking the tub of ice cream in his hands and began to feed you.

“You’re gonna be okay y/n. Remember your worth. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.” Two weeks past since that horrible incident and although you weren’t completely yourself just yet, you finally got up from Jinyoung’s bed and actually went back to school. You blocked Mark’s number completely and deleted him on all of your social media. Since you only had two classes on campus, you were quick to leave before risking the chance of bumping in to him and his stupid friends. You slowly got back in to things and you were sure it had a lot to do with your best friend.

A week after Mark came to your apartment, Jinyoung had told you of the idea he came up with to get back at Mark and although you were hesitant and didn’t like the thought of using Jinyoung, you knew that seeing the two of you together as a couple would ruin Mark. There were times that Mark would come over while Jinyoung was home and Jinyoung would jokingly touch you in order to mess around with the older boy. Everyone and their mothers knew how jealous Mark was of your best friend and you decided that this was a great plan to get back at him with. However, you were sure Mark was already moved on. He could get any girl he wanted. You wouldn’t be surprised if he added more girls to his body count and you rolled your eyes at the thought.

“You know y/n, instead of fake dating, we could film a sex tape and send it to him. Or even lure him in to coming here and walk in on us having sex—“ you threw a pillow at him and released a sigh.

“The second option doesn’t sound too bad, but I want the whole school to know about us and there’s no way I’m sending our sex tape around campus.” He shrugged, but the thought of having sex with Jinyoung brought a blush to your cheeks. In the last two weeks, you found yourself looking at Jinyoung in a different light. You didn’t know if it was because you were still so vulnerable or because you missed being loved on. But you were sure it also had to deal with the fact that Jinyoung took such good care of you. He tended to your every need, made sure you were eating your meals and getting your work done. He made you feel wanted, made you feel like the only girl in the world. He made you feel things not even Mark could.

Jinyoung wanted you to get rid of the thought of Mark completely. Which is why he was so willing to do this for you, even if it meant developing feelings for you and getting hurt in the end. Finally the day came where Jinyoung’s plan would be put in to action. The two of you made your way to school and once you got out of the car, he was quick to intertwine your hands together and took your bag from you.

“Ready babe?” You giggled at the pet name before nodding. People who knew the two of you were aware that you were friends, but when some of the students saw the two of you holding hands, you didn’t fail to notice them whispering while the two of you began to walk. You went about your day as if nothing happened, but news spread around your school like wildfire. You didn’t think people even knew who you were, but after what happened between you and Mark just a few weeks ago, everyone seemed to know your name. You could only hope that Mark got word of your newly formed relationship. When lunchtime finally came around, Jinyoung picked you up from your class and reached for your hand.

“Show time.” You tried your best to ignore the stares, but it seemed as everyone in school was completely aware of your situation. When you walked in to the cafeteria, you tried not to make it obvious that you were looking for Mark, and released a sigh of relief when Jinyoung whispered that he was there. He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before having you sit down so that he could grab something for the two of you to eat. You decided to go on your phone for the time being and waited for Jinyoung to arrive back to your table. When he finally came back, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips before handing you your food. The two of you should’ve really practiced the night before, you weren’t quite used to feeling his lips on yours. His lips felt foreign but you weren’t going to lie, you liked it. He wasn’t rough nor as passionate as Mark was, but you knew it was because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“I always liked it when you wore my clothes. You look cute.” You playfully rolled your eyes as you shoved a piece of watermelon in his mouth. Jinyoung discreetly took a look at Mark’s table and let you know that Mark was fuming. You took a look for yourself and playfully bit your lip as you leaned forward and placed a long, sloppy kiss on the corner of Jinyoung’s mouth. To your dismay, you saw a figure making their way toward the two of you in your peripheral vision and prepared yourself just in case it was Mark. However, when you saw it was Jackson, you released a sigh of relief.

“Wow, who would’ve known. The two of you? I honestly didn’t see it coming. Jinyoung here has been following you like a lost puppy for years now. Are you finding comfort in your best friend since Mark doesn’t fuck the same pussy twice?” Jinyoung quickly stood up and hovered over the arrogant boy.

“You want another black eye again don’t you? Punk shit.” You gripped at Jinyoung’s bicep before motioning for him to sit down. You got up and made your way towards Jackson and turned in the direction of Mark’s table.

“Mark didn’t tell you guys did he? We were dating, for the last six months. When he wasn’t busy sucking on your dicks, he was with me. He had to wait five months for me. Do you really think, with that tiny brain of yours that he would’ve waited around for me for that long if I was nothing but a simple fuck to him? You and your entire group of friends are capable of nothing but sex and from what I’ve heard through the grapevine, everything about you is short and underperforming.” You heard Jinyoung quietly chuckle behind you and the angry look on Jackson’s face only fueled you to piss him off some more.

“Yes, Jinyoung and I are dating. It took a really shitty relationship with Mark and underwhelming sex to realize my worth and what I deserve. I deserve someone who loves me and cares for me the way Jinyoung does. And someone who actually can get me to come. By the way, I’ve only slept with two guys and Park Jinyoung is by far the best sex I’ve ever had. Now if you excuse me, I’d like to enjoy lunch with my boyfriend in peace. And tell your friend over there to stop trying to contact me, my phone company keeps complaining about his nonstop calls and texts. Let him know that I’ve moved on to bigger and better things. Literally.”

Jackson’s mouth was hung low and he couldn’t do anything but just stare at you in disbelief. When you realized he was still standing there, you wrapped your arms around Jinyoung’s neck and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. You then turned around to face Mark and blew him a kiss while winking. With the way his jaw was tightened and his fists were clenched, you knew you got to him and it felt great.

Jinyoung looked at you with so much confusion yet confidence and he let you know that he was extremely proud of you for standing up for yourself. “So, shall we go home now and I can show you how big I actually am?” You coughed up some of your water before playfully slapping his arm. “Take me on a date first Park Jinyoung, then we’ll see how it goes from there.”

If I am just a piece of cake (cake) Then, you're just a piece of meat You're just a piece of meat to me

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 mark #got7 #got7 angst #got7 au #got7 preferences #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #got7 drabbles #mark tuan imagines #mark tuan angst #got7 smut #park jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #markjin

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blackssuunn-mandoandyodito · 4 years ago

Text

Big dreams, expensive taste

Part three: The king of the concrete jungle

Maxwell Lord x f!reader

You can find the other parts in my Masterlist.

Rating: M

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), anger, swear words, mild sexual harrasment, sex, no condom (PLEASE USE ONE, SAFE SEX IS HAPPY SEX), maybe power kink?. Let me know if you think I should add something.

A/N: I am once again asking you to picture this gif as Maxwell, bc there is little to no content of him and I gotta work with what we do have. Enjoy this bc I fucking loved it.

Summary: your dynamic with Maxwell changes as the weeks pass, coming to a point you both had seen coming. And it goes even better than you expected.

You turned out to be even more efficient than Maxwell thought you would be.

Every time he asked for something, you already had it available. If he wanted something to be done, it had been done already. You answered his questions even before he asked, knowing what he would say just by looking at his face. You were punctual. You were organized. You were perfect.

He kept on wondering if you were always like that or if it was only while you worked for him. He's been so efficient these last days he wishes you had stopped him from entering his own building months ago.

He rolls the golden ring on his index finger as he looks at you, moving around the board room table with stacks of paper in your arms. There's a crease between your eyebrows that he has noticed appears only when you're concentrated or nervous. This time, you're most likely both.

He ordered you to schedule a meeting with the soon to be associates in London, to arrange a partnership he had the second he met them, but they've been playing hard to get. It's been bothering him so much he's been tenser and more snappy, and he doesn't know how to let it all out, it's just getting worse with every second that goes. But if he's being honest with himself, he has never snapped at you for fear of you resigning. You don't handle bullshit from anyone, he knew that the second he saw you.

And if he's honest with himself again, he'd love to take the stress out with you.

He has been wanting to take you so bad for weeks, walking on to his office and getting a hard-on almost instantly when he looks at you is getting old now, having to stay in his chair until some gross thought he conjures scares it away. It's painful, seeing you walk around his office and go back to yours without being able to do anything. The way you move as if you own the place, knowing how every single thing works and understanding everything so easily. It makes him burn, how in control you seem to be.

He wants to see you lose it, that's mainly what's killing him.

You walk towards him and stand in front of his desk, gripping your black leather portfolio with stretched knuckles. "Everything is ready, sir"

He nods, smirking at you with his head tilted to one side. "You need to relax," your face breaks out of the calm demeanor for a second, annoyed with his words. He can see you want to say something, but you purse your lips and nod. It sends something running down his spine, seeing you break for a second. It just increases his desire.

"15 minutes," he mutters, checking his F. P. Journe watch and stands up, smoothing his black suit and crossing his arms. You nod again, walking outside and talking with Amanda one last time to check everything is right. He has no doubt you have everything perfectly sorted out, with no room for mistake. And he also knows he will be able to close the deal, but these men can be hard to handle. They're little old money pricks. He hates old money.

You come back and he moves to his chair on the board room table, quickly giving everything a last look over. He's pleased to see all is where it's supposed to be. Content with your work, he leans against his chair and waits.

He can hear his watch ticking in the silence of the room. You come to stand beside him, both of you looking straight to the door, waiting. He breathes deeply, feeling how the nervousness comes off of you in waves. But it doesn't show on your face, nor your posture. How you manage, he doesn't know.

Multiple footsteps sound outside the office, with formal greetings to Amanda as she lets them inside.

Maxwell straightens, putting the businessman face mask on. His face turns serious, with square shoulders and hard eyes that pierce through the 5 men that enter the room. Their posture is too proper, high on their golden breed, and thinking that everything they touch has a blessing seems to be the way they act.

Two of them are blonde, with cocky smiles and blue eyes that seem almost fake. They're taller than Max, but it doesn't intimidate him. If anything, he raises an eyebrow and scoffs quietly, turning to look at you. Now you can also see amusement in his eyes. He's going to handle them just fine.

The other three are brunette, with tanned skin possibly caused by holidays spent in the summer of some Mediterranean land, and green eyes that seem to shine with malice. They look like siblings, but one of them towers over the others. He seems as conceited as the other ones, looking older and more experienced just by how serious he tries to act, and it does a bad job at hiding how spoiled he must have grown up. You see right through his facade and would bet anything on Maxwell being able to do so too.

The shorter one, with cutting cheekbones and sharp nose, looks at you and smirks, winking. You stop yourself from rolling your eyes and don't make anything to return the attention.

"Good evening, Mr. Lord", the one that seems older gets closer, extending his arm and gripping him in a handshake. Max nods, looking him straight in the eye. The other four go silent when the room gets stuffy, tension seeping from their pores. You stay by his side.

"Good evening, Mr. Reuben." Maxwell turns to look at the table, gesturing for them to sit. They comply, walking to take a seat. He notices how they try to choose a chair that isn't close to the glass window, and both of you have to repress a smirk.

The meeting starts, with Maxwell quickly wrapping them in an engaging talk about gains and expansion. Your cheeks get hot and your insides heat up at seeing Maxwell's power take over five grown men, handling them in whichever way he desires. Knowing you have helped him this time makes you feel like flying. You feel like a queen next to a king taking over a kingdom, using only words as a weapon.

�� He looks at you every time he needs you to do something, without saying anything and silently communicating his wishes. All men look at each other and seem quietly amazed by your interactions, how he doesn't seem to order you but rather ask you for things. It is never condescending or disrespectful, so fluid and easy it takes their breath away. You work together, even though it may seem you work for him.

You see the exact second Maxwell has them wrapped around his finger. They are absolutely engrossed by him, listening to everything he says and not looking away, following him around the room. They all look like children looking for the first time at a magic trick. He turns to you and smirks with a predatory smile, absolutely convinced that he has already won the deal. Judging by the state of all five of them, he surely has.

For the first time since they appeared, you show something other than seriousness and smile back at him, something like pride and satisfaction showing in your eyes. It makes his heart jump.

The contract passes through their hands as they sign, not hesitating and trusting completely on Max to take care of what they are signing into. You don't understand how, and it scares you slightly how easy it is for him to entangle people. You wonder if he has ever done something like that to you, if he ever would.

Amanda comes inside right on time to pour some expensive wine in glasses you don't even know where they came from, making a toast and drinking happily. Max exudes satisfaction, grinning behind the glass.

They all stand up and shake hands one last time before they leave again. All stress and tension leave your body slowly, knowing that no matter what happens now, Maxwell has his deal secured.

But as they start walking outside, the one that winked at you turns and gets uncomfortably close to your body.

"Miss" his voice is so high pitched it nearly hurts your ears, "would you be interested in going out with me?"

His hand creeps up your arm and ends up next to your neck, barely stopping from touching your face.

You have to stop yourself from recoiling, instead shaking your head and smiling politely.

"Thank you, but I'm not interested."

The man chuckles, rolling his eyes and turning to leave.

"I should have guessed," he mutters, fixing his tie. "You're just another cheap bitch"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Max's blood boils in his veins, fury making his skin crawl and his eyes burn. For a moment, his vision turns red.

When he moves to pull him back and beat him up, your hand firmly but softly stops him.

"If you want to think that, you may," your voice is so steady and cold Max looks at you, stunned. " It does not mean it's true, and even if it were it would not make you any less of a spoiled brat who can't get anything without forcing someone into it. You disgust me."

Without another word, you let go of Maxwell's hand and turn to walk to your office. Both of them look at you, open-mouthed.

Fury still pumps in Max's veins, but he takes a deep breath and tries to repress the violence that threatens to show. Even if he decided to take that path, he won't get his hands dirty.

He turns to look at the man, with a hurricane inside his heart and what could be lava shining in his eyes.

"I hope you have enough of the old money you grew with," he threatens, whispering so low the other four go completely unaware. "because I assure you you won't be making any in this life"

It scares him back against the door, nodding without being able to speak. He's gone pale, and his hands look like they're shaking.

Good, Maxwell thinks.

He looks at him practically run away from his office, shutting the door behind him. He can feel how his body is tense, but he urges it to relax.

He feels hot, burning. Rage is not something he feels often, used to have everything working the way he wants. And usually, not a single person is stupid enough to mess with something or someone that matters to him.

He turns to look at your office, and there's no sound coming from inside. He doubts you're affected by everything that just happened, but he definitely is.

His hand goes over his face, angry. His rings feel cold against his skin, grounding him more.

With a deep breath, he walks slowly to your office and knocks, saying your name.

"Can I come in?" he brings his hand to his pocket, waiting for your answer almost nervous. He's not used to feeling like this, but you do something to him. He fears it will be one false move and you're gone. He doesn't want you to go.

Your door opens, and you appear very serious but for him, that's nothing new. What surprises him is how your hands seem to be shaking slightly.

Without a word, you move to the side and let him in, leaving the door open. He walks inside and stands there, awkward, and not knowing what to say. If he asks you if you're okay he's sure you won't like it, so after a few seconds of searching what to say and not finding any good options, he stays quiet and waits for you to speak first.

"I'm okay, in case you're wondering." It startles him how well you can read him. "And thank you for defending me."

It takes him a moment to remember you can see outside through the glass but he can't. Weirdly, the thought sounds similar to the way you two seem to work.

He nods. "You don't have to thank me, it's the least I could do."

He sees surprise in your eyes, but it doesn't show anywhere else on your face.

The air is thick, heavy. There is something that is pushing him to get closer to you, to physically check if you're really okay. He knows the man didn't touch you and he's sure he would have made him bleed if he had dared to, but there are other ways to shake someone other than physical.

You cross your arms and turn away from him, looking down at the city. He admires your body, your posture. How strong you seem to stand, how unreachable you look. And he's used to fighting for what he wants if that's what it takes, but he doesn't want to fight for you. He wants you to want him back, to really want him.

Judging by the signals he has seen the last weeks, you most likely do. But he's not gonna take anything for granted.

Slowly, he moves closer to you until his body is perfectly aligned with yours but without touching. His breath hits hard against the back of your head, sending shivers down your spine. You close your eyes, subconsciously moving your head to one side and letting him see more of your soft skin. You uncross your arms, letting them hang by your sides.

One of his hands moves up and hovers over your shoulders while the other gets close to your hand, so close you can almost feel his touch. It's an illusion, you know it.

He whispers beside your ear. "Is this okay?"

You gulp, not daring to open your eyes when you nod.

"Say it." His voice sounds commanding.

"You can touch me." You finally mutter. A shaky breath leaves your lips when he laces his fingers with yours, pressing your shoulder and pulling you back against him. You're flush against him now, feeling his chest rise and fall against your back.

His fingers move to your neck, caressing at the pace his mouth kisses the beginning of your spine. He can feel you fall back into him slightly, relaxing and letting him take control.

A mischievous smile graces his lips.

He turns you around to face him. His hands move to your back, down until they come to cup your butt. It makes you gasp, opening your eyes to look at his blown brown ones.

He's torn between being rough, wrecking you completely, or listening to something inside his mind that tells him he should be good to you first, make you see stars just from his touch.

He decides to listen to it.

"I want to show you how you should be taken care of," he whispers, "can I?"

You're speechless, only able to look at him and nod. He doesn't seem to like it, pulling you harder against his body and digging his fingers in your skin.

"Speak" he orders. "I won't do anything if you don't."

You take in a harsh breath, feeling the air burn your lungs. "Show me."

Pleased with your answer, he grabs your jaw and presses his lips against yours at the same time you move your hands to his chest. The fabric of his suit crumples under your fingers as he licks your lips and takes over your mouth, your heart soaring inside your body.

His hands move to push you back until you hit your desk, making you fall into it slightly. Your kiss breaks, leaving you breathless.

His knees hit the floor with a dull sound. If someone had told you before that you would have Maxwell Lord kneeling for you, you would have laughed to tears.

His hands move frantically up your legs until he touches the edge of your dress and rips it open, pulling it until it's completely in half and falls over your shoulders like a jacket, leaving your body exposed.

If you weren't so turned on, you would probably complain. Your mind is in a completely different space though.

His fingers search until they find the elastic of your underwear and he's greeted by lace that matches your bra covering your skin. He rips them open too.

He nudges you to sit on the desk. You comply, and he pushes your feet up on it, with your legs spread open for him and your knees bent. Your heels fall off from your feet.

He caresses your legs, your thighs, sending goosebumps over your skin.

"You're so beautiful," he mouths against your body, trailing up to your core. You look down at him, threading your fingers through his hair.

You shudder as he kisses the skin around your mound, licking at everything. You get wetter by the second, aching for his touch

"Take care of me," you moan, thrusting into his mouth. It makes him chuckle, and he finally moves to lick with his tongue flat against your clit.

You throw your head back, moaning and squeezing your eyes shut. His tongue thrusts inside you with vigor, pulling you closer by your legs. His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks hard, making you give a short yell that echoes around the room.

"You like it?" He asks, with a rough voice that makes the arousal go even higher.

"Y-yes," you manage to stutter out, afraid that he will stop if you don't answer.

His thumb moves your bundle of nerves in circles, making your hips rise. He quickly slaps the side of your leg, stilling you.

You gasp, feeling your body tingle with everything he does. The position you are in leaves you exposed to him, and you can see out your window to the city. If the building was less high, you know anyone could look and see how Maxwell Lord is kneeling to pleasure you. The thought sends a shot of power and excitement through your system.

He laps at your soft skin, sucking up at your wetness and enjoying every second of it. Your hand pulls at his hair, pulling a moan out of his mouth.

His lips are red when he moves to suck at your swollen clit again, groaning and sending the vibration all over your body.

You grind against his face desperately when the hotness spreads down your belly, making you feel near the edge. He increases his movements for a second, moving one finger up your slit before pulling away and stopping.

You whimper at the loss of contact, but he stands up to stay between your legs and moves his hands up to cup your breasts through the material. You bite your lip, your eyes rolling back into your head as his fingers get behind and open your bra. He quickly grabs one of your nipples and pinches it, kneading your skin with his palm.

His mouth wraps around the other one and sucks with force, sending electric shots over your breast. He rolls your nipple around with his tongue, getting it hard.

You can feel his erection through his pants and decide you've neglected him enough, fumbling with his belt and popping it open easily.

He moans against your skin when your hand moves inside to grip at his dick, moving your thumb over the head covered with pre come. He's hard enough to cut diamonds.

"Please," you moan.

He breaks away from your breast with a wet pop, his lips glistening with spit.

"Please what?" His voice sounds even rougher than before, with full blown pupils almost to the point that you can't see the brown of his eyes anymore.

He can see something take over you just as your hand tightens around his shaft, making him give a choked off moan.

"Fuck me." you say. It almost sounds like an order, and if it were he wouldn't mind.

He gulps, not trusting his voice to keep steady. He pushes his pants down and they fall to the floor to pool around his ankles.

He aligns his cock with your entrance, pushing the head in only slightly before he pulls away and then does it again.

A needy sound leaves your lips, and he aches to hear more. But he said he would take care of you, and that's what he's gonna do.

He pushes his throbbing length inside you, making you feel every inch with how slow he's going. You grip his shoulders, digging your nails on his skin and most likely leaving marks.

He's stretching you so good and feels so deep inside you in this position you can't help but whimper, burying your face against his neck. His hands move to cup your ass again, pulling your hips closer to him.

Your legs burn from the stretch, but you could not move even if you wanted.

He lets his whole body take over you, making you feel so protected and full it is nearly overwhelming.

His hands dig against your skin with a bruising force as he starts to move inside you, making you feel high on something you don't think you've ever experienced before.

"You're so fucking tight." He gritts out next to your ear. It makes you smile, how much he seems to be struggling to control himself.

You rise your face to look at him, holding his face and pulling him close to kiss him.

His pace quickens, slapping sounds filling the office along with grunts and moans that leave both your lips.

You scream again when he hits an specific spot inside you, and something close to a growl leaves his chest.

He moves to bite a mark in your neck, leaving his teeth printed there.

Every thrust sends you closer to paradise, pushing and pulling and making everything feel bigger, better.

He's hot against you, sweating and making little sounds that make your arousal grow.

You wish you could return his passion, thrust back and make him feel how good everything he's doing is. But you can't, you can barely stay upright with how much force he's putting into every thrust.

Something primal burns inside him at seeing how you submit to him, to how he treats you.

His movements become harder, shorter. He starts losing his pace and you know he's close too. His hand moves to circle your clit with his fingers, making you open your mouth in a silent scream.

"Come for me," Maxwell's voice comes with lighting passion that leaves you no option but listen to him.

You scream, pulling at his jacket with shaking legs as he keeps fucking you, and his ragged breath lets you know he's not too far behind.

A deep yell leaves his lips as he comes inside you, burying himself deep until the waves of hot white pleasure start to subside.

When your body stops shaking, he pulls out and moves to grab tissues to clean himself up.

You don't move, trying to catch your breath. He doesn't say anything, just pulls his pants up and kneels down to lick you clean.

You're still sensitive, so your body tries to get away from the attention but he stops you, holding you by your feet. Little whines leave your mouth as he keeps going until you're clean, sending a new wave of arousal at the thought of Max tasting himself in you.

He stands up, buttoning his jacket closed and looking far more composed than you.

His voice betrays him. "Do you have clean clothes here?"

It sounds so soft and caring it makes you feel weird, but you nod.

"Good," he says, moving to the door and stepping outside to leave you to dress alone, closing the door behind him. You see a satisfied smile show at his face as he sits down on his throne, spreading his legs open.

Your brain is still fuzzy from pleasure and there's a loopy smile on your face, but as you take out the dress and put it on you hear Amanda come inside and get close to his desk with an anxious expression.

"Sir, you have to go pick up Alex," her voice sounds too stressed. You frown, not recognizing the name.

A somber expression takes over Maxwell's features and he stands up immediately, not saying anything as he picks up his phone and rushes out of the office.

You stay standing there paralized in the middle of your office, confused by how things happened so fast in the last two minutes.

What could be so important for Max to run away without saying anything and just after giving you the best orgasm in your life?

Big Dreams taglist: @evidenceofzoe @the-feckless-wonder @aeryntheofficial @cryptkeepersoul @cable-kenobi @fruitsaladtrees @poenariuniverse @a-killvr-queen

#max fic #max lord #maxwell lord #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #ww84 fanfiction #ww84 #pedro pascal fanfiction #reader insert #my writing

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trikruheart · 5 years ago

Text

Bellamy Is The Abusive One, Not Octavia: A Rant/Meta

There’s two main “reasons” that people give when they claim that Octavia is abusive. That she beats up Bellamy after Lincoln’s murder, and that she has him put in The Fighting Pits.

Let’s start with the old discourse; Bellamy did get Lincoln killed, not Octavia. Bellamy is the person who got Pike into power, the person who stood by him even after seeing + being told multiple times by people he supposedly cares about that Pike was instituting facism and going to get everyone killed. Bellamy knowingly decided to be a Nazi even though he had other options and was aware of them. And, no, Nazi is not an exaggeration, Bellamy was 100% willing to wipe out an entire race just for being that race including putting them in concentration camp-like conditions to die.

Octavia is not at fault just because she didn’t accept Bellamy’s last minute “help”, he had given her absolutely no reason to trust him so it’s not her fault she didn’t. If my brother was fhe right-hand man of a fascist leader then I wouldn’t have trusted him that after he belittled my concerns several times and stopped me from escaping, he’ll get my boyfriend out of the camp he put him in to begin with. Octavia had no obligation to trust Bellamy after he did everything in his power to destroy her trust.

So, yes, Octavia beats up Bellamy. If I had just saw and heard the love of my life be murdered at the hands of the man that my own brother knowingly put in power then I probably would beat him up to. Especially if my brother had already been abusing me my whole life.

Side note: Let me also just point out that Bellamy was never adequately redeemed for that whole being a Nazi thing, everyone just pretended it never happened. Octavia herself even calls him out “You didn’t turn on Pike because you thought what he was doing to the grounders was wrong.” and he AGREES. Bellamy 👏 never 👏 earned 👏 redemption, because men in this show don’t need to be held accountable for their actions while women (mainly Octavia and Clarke) have to supplicate themselves to men and be dragged through the dirt mercilessly for every wrong breath they take.

The Fighting Pit issue is an even weaker example because Octavia didn’t put Bellamy in there because she was angry or wanted to (although she had every right to be) she did it because Bellamy publicly broke several laws and she would have completely undermined her own authority (and given special treatment, making her a poor leader) if she let him get away with treason, child endangerment, murder, and attempted assassination. Bellamy getting put in the fighting pit was a consequence of his own actions, one that he was well aware of. Octavia wasn’t being abusive, she was being a fair leader.

Now that that BS is out of the way, here’s a list of why Bellamy is abusive to Octavia:

1.) Bellamy has had all of the power in their relationship from day one. Octavia was literally trapped in a room and only able to interact with two people for sixteen years, Bellamy came and went as he pleased. Octavia was essentially a captive, she couldn’t have possibly been more powerless during the entire time their relationship was developing. Then when they get on the ground, Bellamy is almost instantly put in a position of power which he uses to isolate and control Octavia. There’s also the age difference, I think a lot of people forget that Bellamy is way older than all the other Skaikru. Bellamy is 23 at the start of the show and everyone else is under 18 (except Raven is 18). So, we’re talking about a barely 17-year-old girl, one who grew up extremely isolated so is even more immature than most kids her age, and a 23-year-old man who lived most of his life relatively normally.

The power difference entirely favors Bellamy. Octavia has no power over him at all pre-Blodreina (which we’ll get to that) so the idea that she could possibly abuse Bellamy is pretty absurd. Abuse is a habitual pattern of controlling and belittling behavior by someone with more (actual or perceived) power over another, Octavia had no power over Bellamy at all; Bellamy had an insane amount of power over her that he constantly abuses to isolate and control her.

2.) Bellamy supposedly goes to the ground to “protect” Octavia but his means of doing so are abusive and controlling. In season 1 alone; Bellamy uses physical intimidation and manhandling against Octavia several times, he terrorizes a harmless teenager (remember how he’s a grown ass adult? Yikes...) to keep him away from Octavia who was enjoying his company, then he tortures a man in front of her while she begs him to stop because he doesn’t care about her opinions (more in 4) and he’s the leader of The 100 so he can.

3.) The whole “my sister, my responsibility” thing that everyone thinks is so cute? Yeah, that’s emotional abuse. A figure of authority repeating to a child that they are a burden for existing is disgusting and so, so harmful. That phrase is a reinforcement of the more vicious things Bellamy has said “Mom was floated for having you, she’s dead because you’re alive!” and “My life ended the day you were born!”

4.) Bellamy is constantly belittling, dismissing, and patronizing all of Octavia’s opinions and identity.

“You turned this place into a story from your childhood. I mean, the red queen? It’s a joke.”

I’m not saying that Blodreina was a positive identity for Octavia, but it was something she was forced (remember, she didn’t seek power like Bellamy and Clarke did) to become to survive. Octavia was a mentally ill teenage girl with very limited exposure to the world who has never had any power in her entire life, and suddenly she was responsible for saving the human race. How fucking dare Bellamy mock her for basing her leadership off of stories WHAT THE HELL ELSE WOULD SHE BASE IT OF OFF???

Bellamy had a job and a life on The Arc, Octavia never left her room and had no way of seeing the outside world except through stories. She has literally no reference for ruling, or anything else, except those stories and her brief time with the Grounders. Fuck you and your privilege, Bellamy.

On top of that, Octavia actually did save the human race. That “joke” kept humanity alive.

“It is time to stop playing Grounder before you get yourself hurt.”

Yes, how dare she identify with the only people who have ever accepted her and treated her like a human being. How about you stop “playing” Nazi before you get us everyone killed. Seriously, Octavia is not allowed to disagree with Bellamy without him grabbing her arm and talking down to her like she’s a toddler throwing a tantrum.

5.) As soon as Octavia is in a position of power, one she didn’t even ask for, Bellamy’s abuse gets progressively crueler because he’s trying to regain control. He starts actively using Octavia’s mental illness against her and literally suicide baits her several times.

There is NO excuse. None at all. To tell someone who is severely mentally ill, traumatized, and an active suicide risk that “I wish you were dead” and “you’re already dead”. Trying to push someone to suicide and using someone’s mental illness to hurt them, let alone your own sister, is one of the most evil things you can do. The fact that so much of the fandom ignores this genuinely makes me sick.

Bellamy chooses those words because he knows that is what will hurt Octavia the most and he wants to hurt her. Bellamy has heard Octavia say that she’s already dead when she’s at her lowest points, he knows that those are the words that haunt her and drive her to want to kill herself, and that’s why he uses them as a weapon. Notice that he says them multiple times and at very purposeful times, this is not something he yelled once when he was angry; we see him calmly make the choice to say these things to her several times when he is losing control and wants to break her back down to the helpless little girl who was always happy to see him because of her Stockholm Syndrome.

6.) I think trying to MURDER Octavia THREE FUCKING TIMES deserves its own point. Bellamy poisons Octavia, he suicide baits her and let’s her go through with it (someone else stops her, Bellamy makes no move to), and then he leaves her to die with a lovely extra “My sister is dead” for the road.

7.) Octavia spends most of season 6 groveling and trying to “earn” back Bellamy’s love and we see clearly that “earning” Bellamy’s love means being utterly powerless and subservient. Bellamy loved Octavia when she was a captive little girl but suddenly he can’t produce an ounce of human decency towards her? And don’t give me some “but she’s Blodreina” like Mr. Nazi has any room to judge Octavia for becoming a dictator out of desperation when she didn’t know what else to do and she was forced in a very, very difficult leadership position that she never wanted and all of humanity relied on.

My point is basically that Bellamy’s love is conditional, he holds it over Octavia’s head like a fucking dog treat. He wants “his sister” back but what does that mean? He wants back the scared little girl who couldn’t leave one room and was entirely dependent on him. It’s Octavia having autonomy that Bellamy hates, not her being “evil” because Bellamy is 500x as evil as Octavia and I will die on that hill. You’re telling me that Bellamy of all people is soooo upset that his sister was forced to kill some people in the context of war and keeping humanity alive? As if Bellamy isn’t a mass murderer who has killed way more people for way less. Give me a fucking break. “Octavia is dead” because Bellamy’s victim is dead and he can’t handle that.

But, please, do tell me again how two isolated incidents over six years apart from each other that are both the direct consequences of Bellamy’s autonomous choices make Octavia “eMoTiOnAllY AbUsIvE tO pOoR WitTlE BeLl”.

#anti bellamy blake #octavia blake #pro octavia blake #pro blodreina #octavia defense squad

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winterromanov · 5 years ago

Note

College Bucky taking her home to meet the fam!!

pairing: bucky x reader (set in the same universe as this fic and this fic)

You’d never met Bucky’s parents and sister in the flesh before, but you might as well have done by this point. Ever since Bucky had told them he’d been dating someone they’d been dying to meet you--to the point where Bucky can’t Facetime home without his mother demanding to pull you into the frame and Becca Barnes regularly messages you on Facebook.

So when Bucky finally invites you over to his family home for the weekend, you’re really not as nervous as you’d expect to be. Sure, there’s a vague sense of anxiety that stirs your stomach at the thought of how concrete and real this all is because, well. You’ve never had a proper boyfriend before. But Bucky’s mom has his smile and his dad has his eyes and Becca seems to be the best bits of all of them, so why shouldn’t this be anything but good?

“My mom is asking me if you like Mexican food,” Bucky says, phone in his right hand, sat cross legged on your bed. He’s supposed to be helping you pack. The most help he’s been was throwing one of his socks he’d found down the side of the bed right at your face. “I said yeah. We ate enchiladas once, right?”

“I’d use the term we loosely. I made the enchiladas and you ate them after you’d had practice.” You raise an eyebrow as he sheepishly looks up from his phone screen. “I don’t remember actually eating anything that night.”

“Well.” Bucky shrugs, smirking and deliberately looking away from you. “I had a great meal that night. Not just talking about the enchiladas, either.”

Okay, so now it’s your turn to throw a dirty sock at his features. You watch as he makes a show of spluttering and acting disgusted like you’ve just thrown a tonne of raw sewage all fucking over him. “You’re the worst.”

“I know you are,” he says, teasing, scrambling over to wrap the sock round your neck like a scarf. You squeal, giggling as you try and push him away--because his football socks are gross, come on--but he only laughs louder as you struggle, pulling you closer and closer. “But what am I?”

His face is just so damn kissable even when he’s being annoying beyond belief. You have clothes to pack away, dinner to assemble (well, he’s the one that’s supposed to be making the dinner) and Netflix to watch but you let your giggles subside, curl your fingers round his jaw, let your lips collide.

“You’re still the worst,” you murmur against him. “But I seem to find that endearing, somehow.”

“Touche, sweetheart. Touche.”

It’s not exactly difficult to get to Bucky’s childhood home from university. He’s lived in Brooklyn his whole life so it’s just a matter of traveling there from Upper Manhattan on public transport. You have a feeling he’d not invited you sooner because he’d worried about whether you were ready--if things were going too fast, if you’d get intimidated standing in the front hall of the house he’d grown up in. But when he’d shyly suggested it walking through Central Park on the day of your fourth month anniversary, you’d squeezed his hand and let him know that yeah, you’re kind of okay with meeting the family he fucking adores.

The house itself lies in a fairly innocuous and relatively expensive looking neighbourhood, with tan brickwork and big windows and a bright red front door. A couple of cars sit in the driveway and flowers burst through borders trailing from the front yard into the back. You’d barely wheeled your suitcase up to the steps when the door flies open, two extremely excitable women rushing down to meet you.

“Oh, (Y/N)!” The older one--Bucky’s mom--gushes immediately, grabbing you into a hug before stepping back to take a proper look at you. “Oh, honey. You look just like all the pictures James has sent me. Becca, isn’t she just beautiful?”

“So beautiful!” Becca confirms, blue eyes glittering. She looks so much like Bucky it’s unreal. “Where did you get your boots from? I’ve been wanting a pair--”

“Hey!” Bucky jokingly breaks in between the three of you, running a hand across your waist. “Stop hassling my girl! I am here too, you know. You could show a little enthusiasm.”

Bucky’s mom slaps him on the arm in teasing and the two women fall under his arms, clutching his waist. His eyes close as he hugs them, squeezing them as tight as possible. Despite the closeness in distance it’s been a few weeks since they all last saw each other, and you can see it in the way he holds them. He’s home.

“Miss me, then?” Bucky says, tongue poking out between his teeth. Becca responds by burrowing closer into his side, while his mom reaches out to clutch your hand.

“Of course we missed you. We miss you every day.” His mom looks at you with a gaze of gratification and what...what might be relief, so you smile and squeeze her hand back. “I am just glad that this one has clearly been looking after you.”

“He looks after me, too, Mrs Barnes.” Bucky’s expression is warm, loving, face slightly tilted to the side as he falls in love with you just a little more.

“Please, call me Winifred.” She assures, before gesturing towards the open door. “Come on in. It’s freezing, and your dad can’t wait to embarrass you.”

Winifred lets go of your palm and trots up the stairs, Becca bounding excitedly behind her. Bucky rolls his eyes, picking up your suitcase, but it’s all done in jest.

“They’re going to be like this all weekend, just so you know.” Bucky informs you, ushering you up the steps in front of him. “If it gets a bit much, just say. They’ll get it.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m more interested in all these photos you’ve been sending your mom of me.”

Bucky groans and you laugh, not so secretly pleased by it all. His heart is so full to bursting for you that he sends his mom photographs. It’s, as Sam would surely put it, absolutely sickening.

Bucky’s dad is just as intrigued about you as his mom and sister are, but in a calmer, drier way shown through his bemused expressions and quietly funny comments round the dinner table. Where Winifred and Becca are thrumming with energy, he peacefully sits through the storm--exchanging measured conversation with his son and watching as you deal with Winifred and Becca’s near incessant questioning.

“(Y/N),” he says, quite suddenly, passing you a bowl of salad. “James says you’re the reason he passed Russian Literature last semester.”

You flush a little, not quite meeting his gaze as you pile lettuce onto your plate. “I wouldn’t go that far, Mr Barnes. Buck--I mean, James, is probably one of the smartest people I know.”

Becca snorts with laughter before masking it with a cough, and Bucky kicks her leg under the table, his mouth crammed full of enchilada. It’s funny, watching him interact with his younger sister. It’s like you’re getting a glimpse into the childhood they shared and you were never part of. The scuffed knees and pretend games and play fights that got out of hand.

“He works hard, and that’s all I ever ask of my children.” Bucky’s dad smiles warmly and proudly, eyes crinkling. There’s the blue, where it came from. Bucky’s dad has the same bright blue eyes, like the rough sea on the English coastline. Bucky’s cheeks burn pink and his hand finds your knee under the table, his fingers flexing over the fabric of his jeans. “And if he finds someone who works as hard as he does, well... I’m going to be a happy man.”

Bucky winks at you. “Good thing (Y/N) is the smartest gal I know, then.”

Winifred chooses that moment to bring out a pecan pie she’d made from scratch because Bucky said you’d like them and for half a moment you think you might burst into tears, because four months into loving their son and they’ve accepted you like you’re their own. There is no subtle (or unsubtle) judgement, no tripping up, no how can you possibly be good enough for our boy.

He loves you, so they love you. It’s as simple as that.

Bucky’s childhood room only has a twin bed so you both curl into it like a tin of sardines, limbs entangled and breaths confused, cold feet pressed together under a red striped duvet. There are still teddy bears on top of wardrobes and piles of superhero figurines stacked in boxes, comic books and Star Wars memorabilia and posters of his favourite football stars. Photographs line his wall of him and Steve and Becca and old high school football teams, pinned up with flaking sellotape.

“I don’t think I have enough wall space,” he says, on the edge of sleep, face burrowed into your neck. You don’t turn but trail your hand up his arm until it meets the back of his head, fingers twisting round the hair that grows there.

“Enough wall space for what?”

“For you,” he hums gently, “You’d fill every centimeter of it like you fill every cell of my body.”

He falls asleep, like he often does after delirious muted declarations of love, but that’s okay. You don’t have to fill his wall. You’re happy existing merely in the thrumming, heady organ within his ribcage. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, and everything he’s always given.

In the morning Bucky shows you the sights of his home borough, Becca insisting on tagging along for the ride. You look over Brooklyn Bridge and eat hipster pizza and giggle amongst a crowd of serious tourists in Brooklyn Museum. Becca eventually meets a friend and disappears off into the city, so Bucky takes you to Prospect Park, beautiful and gloomy in the harsh January frost. It’s not long before you encounter the pop-up ice rink that appears for the winter season and, really, it would be a shame to skip the opportunity. It’s not half as busy as the rink at Rockefeller Center.

Weirdly, Bucky’s more erratic on the ice than you are. His long limbs stutter and stumble as he tries to regain his balance and you laugh, grabbing onto his gloved hands.

“This sure is a bonding experience,” Bucky’s voice wobbles as he almost takes out a small child with his right leg, “You trying to hold the weight of a six-foot tall football player while also on ice.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” you reply. You pull him violently so he, again, doesn’t knock a group of little schoolchildren like bowling pins. It gives him such a fright that both of you end up tumbling to the ground, frantically reaching out for each other’s hands to gain any semblance of balance.

It doesn’t work. You just end up lying on his chest, on view of the whole of fucking Brooklyn, and he has the nerve to fucking kiss you.

“What?” Bucky shrugs, not looking the least bit ashamed. “Wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.”

“It’s a good job you’re so cute.” You half-smile, trying to roll off him and onto the ice so you’re not holding up the rest of the skaters. He struggles to his feet, palms scraped but otherwise unhurt--but the pout on his lips says hot chocolate over another turn round the rink, and you’re not in a position to refuse.

On your last evening before reality resumes once again you and Bucky cook dinner. Well. You watch intently as Bucky throws the ingredients for a chilli in a pan, making sure he doesn’t accidentally do anything wacky (which he does an awful lot). He chases you round the kitchen with fresh chili on his fingers but Becca eventually teams up with you, whacking him with a spatula into submission. His laugh is so carefree it’s magical. You wish you could keep it forever, keep it like this.

(Your stomach swoops dramatically at the thoughts of what the future could hold if this--if this were to last forever.)

The food goes down well. Winifred gazes at you dreamily before gathering up the plates with Becca and Bucky, leaving you and his dad at the dinner table.

“I’ve...been worried about him,” Bucky’s dad admits in the quiet, the only noise faint giggling coming from the kitchen. “About James. About college. Because there have been times when he’s come home and there looks like there’s nothing left inside of him. But I look at him now, and...he’s not just living. He’s thriving. And I think that, at least in part, is because of you.”

You blink back at him, not sure what to say. There are not sufficient words in the English language to reply to that, the tenderness and gratefulness Mr Barnes shows in his expressive eyes and kind mouth. It clicks why Winifred looked at you with relief when you’d first met. They’d been so worried about him.

“You make him so happy, kid.” Bucky’s dad’s smile is crooked, just like Bucky’s own. “I’m just glad you found each other.”

You can only smile back. But sometimes expressions say all the words you need to, so. Bucky’s dad gets it.

You hold him a little tighter in the twin bed that night. Face to face rather than back to back. Watching Bucky Barnes breathe is a privilege, but loving him is a responsibility. He will never be empty or lonely while you can feel his skin beneath your fingertips. He will never be anything but him.

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#obscene fluff #actually disgusting #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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blackbatsnwitchshats · 4 years ago

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New Opportunities

Chapter 7

Chapter Summary:

AFO/Ichidai: hey, hi, i'm karma ;)

Bakugou: *shocked Pikachu face*

______________________

The pleasant surprise on Midoriya's face when he found Ichidai waiting for him by the koi pond was incredibly humbling.

The other boy had come out of the building looking miserable, glancing his way for but a short moment before dropping his gaze to the ground again. Though, another look towards him caused Midoriya to jolt up in excitement when he realized he hadn't been stood up. To Ichidai, it wasn't unlike seeing a shelter puppy run towards him -a big ball of anxiety smothered by even greater hope.

"You're here!"

"I am," Ichidai nodded. "Though, I have to ask where your lunch is?"

"Oh! I -uh-"

Midoriya fumbled his words for a while before ultimately looking back down as his feet, almost ashamed.

Ichidai raised an eyebrow and stated, "Someone stole your lunch money."

He must have hit the nail on its head, because Midoriya sighed and his shoulders drooped like he was a wilting flower. "Yeah."

"Was it Bakugou?"

"No."

Both of them were quiet for a beat before Ichidai hummed and made room for him on the bench. "Well, then I guess I'll just have to share my lunch with you today."

"Suzuran!" Midoriya yelped, going ramrod straight and waving his hands in front of himself. "You don't have to do that! I'll be fine!"

However, his own stomach contradicted him by speaking up at that moment. It growled, loudly, and Midoriya looked down at himself in betrayal. Of course Ichidai couldn't help but chuckle, and that only made him cover his bright red face in embarrassment.

"You're right; I don't have to. I want to, though. So here," Ichidai said as he took half of his sandwich and held it out to him.

Midoriya peeked at him from between his fingers. "You're sure you're okay with sharing?"

"One-hundred percent."

"Well," He hesitated a bit longer before taking the sandwich and sitting down on the bench. "...Okay."

Midoriya took a bite and smiled. "This is good. Did you make it?"

"No," Ichidai shook his head. "My guardian did."

"Your guardian?" Midoriya asked curiously.

"He looks after me and my older brother. Our parents are no longer with us," Ichidai explained.

"Oh... I'm sorry."

Ichidai waved off his concern. "It's okay. You didn't know."

"Anyway, what about you?" he prompted as he bit into his own half of the sandwich.

"It's... uh... mostly just me and my mom. I don't have any siblings, and my dad is overseas for work."

"Must be pretty quiet at your house."

"Yeah, but we find things to do. Mom took up sewing as a hobby and I... well, I write."

Ichidai had noticed. If Midoriya wasn't doing assignments, he was writing in that separate notebook of his. He'd never gotten close enough to see what was in it though.

Now would be the perfect time to ask.

"You write? Creatively?" Ichidai tilted his head. "Is that why you're always carrying that beat up Compos book with you?"

Midoriya fidgeted his feet nervously. "Er... Yes and no. I do quirk analysis."

"Really?" Ichidai perked up not unlike a squirrel at an offering of nuts. "That's pretty neat!"

His own sincerity and exuberance almost startled him.

Midoriya himself was certainly taken aback by it.

Toning it down slightly, Ichidai asked, "May I see?"

Midoriya hesitated a bit before reaching into his backpack. "I guess, ...though -just letting you know- it can get a little... dark... sometimes."

"That's alright."

Ichidai opened the clearly beloved notebook and began reading.

Halfway through the second entry, he muttered, "You're very thorough... and you said you do it just as a hobby?"

"Uh... yeah. It's something I've been doing it since I was little. So I've kinda gotten the hang of knowing what to look for."

"This is amazing, Midoriya. You could be a professional quirk analyst."

Flipping forward a few pages, Ichidai was further impressed. The attention to detail in the other boy's observations was astounding.

"Most of your work is about heroes," he noted as he closed the notebook and handed it back. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah! Heroes are awesome!"

Goodness -the amount of glee in that answer was second only to Midoriya's joy upon finding Ichidai waiting for him.

"All Might's my favorite, but what about you? Do you like heroes?"

Ichidai just barely managed to keep a straight face at the mention of his arch enemy, shrugging in an effort to make his grimace look more neutral than disgusted. "Eh... I'm more interested in their quirks than the heroes themselves. Though, if I have to pick one, ...probably Fatgum. He has a cool quirk and doesn't seem like all that bad of a person. Everything I've seen and heard about him has been pretty positive over all."

"Fatgum, huh? I don't think I've looked into him yet. He works closely with the police, doesn't he?"

"Right. From what I understand, the way his quirk works-"

The bell for the end of lunch interrupted him.

"I guess we'll have to save this for later. After school?"

"Sure!"

________________

"You two have gotten rather friendly. You dating or something?" Bakugou jeered at them one morning.

Ichidai sneered back, "Why are you asking? Jealous?"

Rebuffing the blond had become his norm in the past few weeks. He'd thought Bakugou had been annoying before, but -now that Ichidai was friends with Midoriya- he'd gotten at least ten times worse.

Following them around. Asking too personal questions. Just generally being a nosy little bastard.

It was like Bakugou had some sort of complex involving Midoriya, and he couldn't stand not having the green haired boy and his attention all to himself.

Though, Midoriya for his part did seem to be losing some form of interest in his bully. He wouldn't answer Ichidai when he broached the subject, which made him curious, but Ichidai was more than willing to drop it in favor of more interesting topics.

Like quirks.

He and Izuku could talk about quirks for hours.

They didn't always agree on everything, like possible sources and applications, but they never felt the need to argue either. They'd yet to get bored of each other; their ideas, theories, and general flow of conversation never ran dry. There was always a new hero -a new quirk- to peak their interest.

They got along like a house on fire, and -for whatever reason Ichidai couldn't quite understand- Bakugou took offence to that.

Either way, Ichidai was having a blast rubbing it in his face.

When he wasn't making a nuisance of himself planting relatively harmless traps for Aldera's faculty failures, he was monopolizing as much of Midoriya's time as he was allowed. Partially because Ichidai knew the pathetic sharks would swarm the green-haired boy as soon as he left, but mostly because he was actually having fun with someone for the first time in goodness knew how long.

All For One couldn't remember the last time he'd genuinely enjoyed someone's company. He'd been so caught up in running his criminal empire that making any sort of personal connections just didn't happen. Not to mention the fact it just wasn't a good idea in the first place.

Now though ...now he could without worry, and he wasn't going to let some two-bit wanna-be hero brat ruin it for him.

"Nah. I just wanna know why you're wasting your time with the deku. You do know he's quirkless, right?"

In his peripheral, Ichidai could see Midoriya shift in discomfort. Probably worried he was going to drop him as a friend like a hot potato.

It made Ichidai wonder how many times it had happened, because he had no doubt it actually had.

"Yeah? And what of it?"

"So you do know; you just don't care. Why?" Bakugou huffed, "It's not like he's going to amount to anything or do anything important. He's useless."

"Useless, huh?" Ichidai raised an eyebrow, humming, "Well, ...if he's useless, then you're worthless."

Bakugou's mouth dropped along with the rest of their classmates'. Even Midoriya, standing just beside Ichidai's desk, couldn't believe the words that had just come out of his mouth. They all looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"What did you just say?" Bakugou asked quietly as he clenched his fists.

Ichidai rolled his eyes. "You heard me."

Bakugou launched himself at Ichidai, fists flying. He yet again aimed for Ichidai's head, but missed as Ichidai lowered himself in his seat and braced his shoulders against the window sill. Glass rained down around them. Neither boy paid any attention to it though as Ichidai brought his feet up and planted them firmly on Bakugou's hips, kicking the blond off of him.

Bakugou flew back into several empty desks, their metal legs screeching over the tile floor.

He pulled himself up from the floor and snarled, glaring death at Ichidai. He tensed, preparing to tackle Ichidai again, before the classroom door slammed open to reveal their teacher and the principal.

"What on earth is happening in here?!"

Thinking quickly, Ichidai pointed to Bakugou and stood up to reveal the newly broken window next to his seat. "Bakugou broke the window trying to punch me!"

Classic.

Bakugou pointed back at Ichidai and opened his mouth, likely to deny the claim, but the arm he raised was the bloody one he'd used to punch the window. There was no getting out of trouble now. The evidence was clearly stacked against him, in plain view.

Repeatedly glancing between Bakugou and the window, the principal looked just about ready to blow his top. The anger in his voice was clear as he spoke, barely managing to keep himself from yelling. "Young man, this is absolutely unacceptable. Grab your things and meet me in my office. Now."

He then turned and marched out of the room.

Their teacher heaved a heavy sigh once the other man was gone. Looking to Bakugou, he said, "You heard him, kid. I'll call the nurse and let her know you're coming. She can escort you after you get that hand of yours looked at."

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, but nonetheless gathered his things. Shooting scalding looks Ichidai's way all the while, he stomped to the door and slammed it shut behind him.

"Alright class, fix your seats. There's still plenty of work to do. Those math problems aren't going to solve themselves."

________________

Later, during their walk home, Midoriya asked, "Suzuran, why did you do that? Earlier today..."

"Do what?"

"Call Kac- Katsuki worthless."

"Oh, that," Ichidai shrugged. "I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine."

"He's always calling you such horrible things, and I thought, "Why not return the favor with something equally as cruel? It'd only be fair, considering everything he's done." I figured that if he wants to go around calling people awful names, he should at least be able to handle receiving the same gestures in kind. As we saw earlier though, that's obviously not the case."

Midoriya nodded, quieting for a moment. Rubbing his arm, he asked, "You really don't mind that I'm quirkless?"

Ichidai pursed his lip in thought before answering, "Yes and no. I care in terms of what it means for you, but it doesn't hold any weight in my decision to be your friend."

"Really?"

Midoriya looked at him so warily yet hopefully that Ichidai simply couldn't bring himself to do anything other than reassure him.

Bumping his shoulder against Midoriya's, he said, "Really really."

It wasn't his intention to make Midoriya cry, but that's exactly what happened.

Though, Ichidai supposed he didn't mind. Happy tears were leagues better than sad ones.

#BB's Writing #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha all for one #bnha afo #bnha shigaraki tomura #De-Aging #Age Reversal #de-aged afo #De-Aged All For One #New Opportunities (BNHA Fanfiction)

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ceealaina · 5 years ago

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Title: who's gonna tell you things aren't so great? Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R5 - Strawberries Ship: IronBros Rating: Teen Major Tags: Fluff and Angst, MIT Era, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting Summary: Jim Rhodes isn't sure how he feels about having the Stark heir for his roommate, right up until he meets Tony and finds he's the very last thing he expected. Word Count: 2340

(Also written for the prompts Drama, Overprotective, and ‘I dare you’ for @rhodeyappreciationweek)

It started on May 2, when Jim’s sister shrieking from the family room had brought him running. “Holy crap, Jimmy,” she had whispered, since their parents weren’t around to read her the riot act over her language. She had gestured wildly at the television. “You’re gonna go to school with the Stark heir!”

Jim had just rolled his eyes, once he had ascertained that there was no actual emergency. “Yeah, me and about ten thousand other people. I’m never even gonna see him, twerp, let alone meet him. And isn’t he like twelve anyway?”

“Fifteen,” she’d interjected, all heart eyes, and that explained a lot.

“Right, well, we’re hardly gonna become best buds so you can quit acting like he’s coming home for Thanksgiving.”

But then his Residence Life Package had arrived, and stuffed into the back of the packet like an afterthought was an extra memo, getting into very detailed specifics about extra security and proprietary rights and privacy in dorm life. And a few weeks after that was the mysterious, free upgrade to a nicer building -- the building that had, in fact, just been slotted for a full remodel and update over the summer, including a top of the line student lounge. Nobody came right out and said it, but Jim knew his luck, and by the time August rolled around, he was pretty sure that Anthony Stark was going to be his roommate.

Moving in was even more chaotic and crazy than Jim had expected, what seemed like thousands of freshmen with their families and all their stuff milling around, waiting for their turn to check in and get their room assignment and their keys. And while they were waiting, he couldn’t help watching all the other kids, wondering which one was his future roommate.

He’d tried looking up Anthony Stark as his suspicions had grown over the past few months, but while there’d been a lot of mentions of him, the Starks had done a good job of keeping his picture out of the papers. The most recent picture Jim had been able to find was when Anthony had built his first circuit board. At the age of three. Because of course he had.

So Jim had no idea who he was looking for, which meant that almost every person he saw had the potential of being him. For the millionth time, he let his gaze drift over the quad. There was a guy over in the north-east corner, trying to chat up some girl, who had actual movers there, like eight of them, lined up and waiting to shift all his stuff. And there was --

Jim winced as somebody moved away and he spotted a guy that he hadn’t noticed before. He was standing all alone beside a sad little pile of boxes, clutching the handle of a suitcase just a little too tight. He kept switching between looking around with quick, furtive glances, and then staring down at the ground, messy hair falling in front of his face, which was barely visible anyway beneath huge glasses. He had his back pressed up tight against the wall, like he was doing his best to make himself invisible. He looked young, too, and for a brief moment Jim thought that maybe… But no, that didn’t make any sense. The Starks were one of the richest families in America, and he’d read that the baby Stark was already being groomed to be the innovative future of Stark Industries. Of course they wouldn’t just leave him there like that.

He kept looking around, had his guess narrowed down to the guy with the movers and another guy who was simpering as his mother obviously fawned all over him. Neither one of them looked like someone he’d particularly want to be a roommate with, but he couldn’t find it in himself to worry about it. His gaze kept going back to the kid by the wall. Most of the other freshmen were happy, maybe a little nervous, but even the ones who were crying over leaving their families looked excited too. This kid though, looked absolutely terrified, and while he wasn’t crying, he had this quiet sort of sadness about him. His fingers were tapping out an uneven, nervous pattern against his thigh, and Jim felt something twist in his stomach. He’d just about decided to go over and introduce himself, because if anyone needed a friend it was this guy, but then he got distracted by some pointless argument with his sister, and when he looked back over again, the guy was gone, leaving a wake of guilt in Jim’s stomach.

As it turned out, admissions had fucked something up with their check-in system, and so they were hours behind schedule. Rather than waiting in the hot crowd of people, the Rhodes family had elected to grab some lunch in a nice, air conditioned restaurant, and come back when the line had died down a bit. When they made it back to campus, his mother sent Jim up ahead to his room while the rest of the family started unpacking the car. He was hesitating outside the door, double checking the room number against the one scribbled on his sheet of paper, when he heard voices inside.

“Dad, come on! Can’t you guys stay a little longer? At least until I finish unpacking?”

The voice wasn’t whiny, or the usual irritated tone that Jim might have expected from a teenager arguing with his parents. Instead he just sounded sad, and so, so disappointed.

“Anthony, enough!” an older male voice snapped back. “I thought you agreed you weren’t going to cause any drama today.”

“I’m not,” Anthony said quickly, voice carefully neutral. “I just… I thought you guys would at least stay until I unpacked, and maybe we could get dinner or something before you go.”

“Well, we’re not.”

“That’s what all the other kids are doing.”

It sounded like a last-ditch effort, and Jim could hear Howard Stark’s answering snort as clearly as if he’d been standing beside him.

“‘What all the other kids are doing?’” he repeated. “And tell me, are you ‘just like’ all the other kids?”

“No.” The answer was soft, quiet, and just a little resentful.

“Howard…” That was from a quiet female voice, who Jim assumed was Anthony’s mother. There was a hint of warning in it, but Howard didn’t seem inclined to listen.

“That’s right, you’re not. You’re a goddamn Stark, and it’s time to grow up and act like it. So no, Mommy and Daddy aren’t going to hold your hand through university. Stop crying about it.”

Jim winced, feeling a little sick at the derision in his voice. This man was talking to his own son, his only child, and he sounded like he was completely disgusted by him. Jim had gotten in some pretty big arguments with his parents before, but he couldn’t imagine either of them talking to him with that cold indifference in their voices, no matter how angry they were with him. And worse, he couldn’t even figure out what Howard Stark really had to be angry about. His son wanted to have dinner with his parents, when he probably wouldn’t even see them again before Thankgiving? What was wrong with this man?

“I’m not crying,” Anthony protested, but even Jim could hear the waver in his voice. “I just… It’s the first day of university, Dad, and I’m younger than everyone here, and it’s… It’s supposed to be a big deal. I thought you’d stay a bit, is all.”

“Jesus Christ,” Howard bit out, earning another reproachful murmur from his wife. “You know we only brought you up ourselves because it coincided with my meeting with Dr. Franklin. Grow up, Anthony. You may be younger than everyone else, but you’re still old enough to leave home. And if you’re old enough to go to university, you’re old enough to be a goddamn man about it.”

“I didn’t even want to go to university yet! I wanted to wait until I was the same age as everyone else. You’re the one who insisted I start now, just because of the stupid Stark legacy and because of how good it would look for the stupid investors.”

“What did you just say to me?”

Howard’s voice had gone icy cold, and Jim felt unease ripple through him.

“Howard, that’s enough,” his wife insisted, but he wasn’t listening.

“No. What did you just say? Come on, son, say it again. I dare you.”

Jim had never met Anthony Stark, but he felt a sudden wave of overprotectiveness toward him. Before he could think the better of it, he was shoving the door open, walking in with his box in hand like he’d just arrived.

“Oh, hey!” he said, feigning surprise at the sight of the people in the room. He wasn’t exactly surprised to find that Anthony Stark was the kid he’d spotted earlier on the quad, but it somehow made his whole exchange with his father that much sadder, knowing how alone he’d been out there, surrounded by all those people with their families. He gave him a bright smile, pretending not to notice the red tinge across the tops of Anthony’s cheeks, or the way he gave a hasy swipe at his eyes. “I’m Jim Rhodes. I guess I’m your roommate!”

For a moment, there was a long, slightly awkward silence, and Jim could tell that they were trying to work out if he’d heard anything. He didn’t let his smile falter, setting his box down on the empty bed. Without a word, Howard and his wife moved into action, saying good-bye to their son and preparing to leave. Jim kept half an eye on them as he unpacked his toiletries from the box and lined them up on his night table, watching Maria wrap an arm around Tony and place a gentle kiss on his cheek before Howard came over to shake his hand, the gesture cold and indifferent.

He didn’t hear what, if anything, they said to him as he left, but then they were gone. Anthony sank onto his bed in their absence in a way that was both disappointed and relieved. He seemed to have forgotten that he wasn’t alone in the room, and Jim found himself clearing his throat a little awkwardly.

“Uh. You must be Anthony, huh?” he asked, offering out his hand. Anthony looked up at Jim with sharp eyes, and he could see the intelligence there. Somehow, for all he still felt sorry for him, he knew better than to think he was naive.

“Tony,” he offered, taking Jim’s hand after a beat. “No one calls me Anthony.” He met Jim’s gaze. “My dad only does it when he’s showing off, or pissed at me. Or both.”

It was said easily, like it was just an absolute fact that Jim had overheard Howard using the name, like that kind of exchange was normal, and Jim winced. Now that the immediate threat was gone, he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself, what to say besides ‘sorry about your family’ which seemed inappropriate, if fitting. But Tony seemed to have that covered too.

“Strawberry?” he offered, out of the blue, and Jim blinked as he was met with a glass bowl full of fresh, plump strawberries.

“Uhh…”

Tony gave him a shy, sweet little smile, at odds with the resigned look he’d been wearing before. “Jarvis, our butler?” He made a face, like he knew how that sounded, and then waved it off. “He snuck them in for me. He knows they’re my favourite.” He shook the jar a little, looking hopeful. It felt like a lot more than a strawberry, Tony so easily sharing the one small bit of joy in what seemed to have been an absolutely shitty day, and Jim didn’t know what he’d been expecting from the Stark heir, but it sure wasn’t this. He took one, popping it in his mouth and Tony beamed at him, looking absolutely delighted that his little gift had been accepted. Jim felt himself getting pulled into the force of that smile. He was pretty sure Tony Stark was going to be the end of him, and he was pretty sure he was going to love every minute of the ride.

“Listen,” he said quickly, taking a seat beside Tony. “My family’s gonna be here any second, and I feel like I should apologize in advance, because they can kind of be a lot. They mean well, I promise.”

Tony offered up another shy little smile. “You don’t have to apologize for that,” he told him, a wistful note in his voice. “It sounds… Nice.”

“Yeah, it kind of is,” Jim admitted. “But you’ll find out soon enough. My momma kinda tends to adopt people, and she’s gonna be ready to trade me for you in about five seconds.”

Tony gave a little giggle at that, ducking his head, and Jim had to resist the sudden urge to coo because good lord, he was adorable. He felt another surge of anger toward his terrible family; someone thi sweet didn’t deserve that kind of bullshit.

“Anyway, they’re planning to drive back to Philly tonight, and my dad’s already getting antsy about how behind schedule they are, so they probably won’t stay too long once they get me settled. You wanna grab some dinner after they’re gone? Maybe wander around and try to figure out this campus?”

“Really?” Tony looked heartbreakingly startled. “You want to have dinner with me?”

Jim nudged against his shoulder. “You seeing a whole lotta other roommates in this room that I’d be grabbing dinner with?”

Tony snorted, but there was a flush spreading across the tops of his cheeks, a goofy little grin twitching at his lips. “Yeah,” he said softly, half to the bedspread, half glancing shyly up at Jim. “I’d like that a lot. That sounds like a great way to end the day.”

@tonystarkbingo

#tonystarkbingo2020 #tsb2020 #rhodeyweek2020 #ironbros #james rhodes #tony stark #fluff and angst #mit era #protective rhodey #howard stark's a+ parenting #tony stark needs a hug #fic #my fic

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southernpeach13 · 4 years ago

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Their Princess all grown up Chapter 5

Duke moaned as she slowly came to. She rubbed the tiredness from her eyes when she realized that her hands were not only tied behind her back but to someone. She scrunched up her nose when she was hit with the smell of a very pissed-off Alpha. Well, two actually but the one tied to her was absolutely livid. Duke looked up and saw a young man maybe her age, a couple of years older at most smiling like a mad man at them.

Duke groaned as she remembered how they ended up in their current position.

A few hours earlier

The small group landed in an underground subway of all things and soon learned that the ninja was mute. As the group continued to walk down the subway they ran into what looked like a modern version of a mad scientist lab. Duke and Tunnel Rat were about to keep exploring when Roadblock grabbed the two and hid them behind a large barrier with the rest of the group.

Tunnelrat was glaring daggers at the large Alpha but Snakeeyes pressed a finger to his mouth making a small shush motion as he pointed to the flooring above them.

Duke looked up from their hiding spot and saw a young man talking to someone on a large screen. She sniffed the air and soon realized the man in the lab coat was a beta.

He was telling the person on the screen to never interrupt him in the middle of work and something about making the person's replacement? What did he mean by that? Duke ducked as she saw the beta, turn around, and walk to the railing. She could feel the wheels in her head turning trying to place where she had heard that voice before.

“I know,” he whispered.

“I know the teeming masses will call you unnatural, immoral.” he purred. Duke covered her mouth hoping to stop her heavy breathing. She had barely been in the room with him for a solid three minutes but everything about him.

Just screamed wrong.

“Even evil.”

Her heart was pounding so loud she didn't even notice that Scarlet had already pulled up information on the man. She barely heard her say his name.

“Brian Bender. Goes by Mindbender.”

Duke looked back up at the man. Why did that name sound so familiar?

“He’s wanted by the feds for multiple crimes against nature. Very intelligent. Also has the same less than popular thoughts on Alphas and Omegas.

But you’ll always be my babies.” he said with contentment. As he stood up a wave of pheromones hit his nose that smelled a little familiar.

Duke shook her head, quickly pushing that feeling aside.

“Okay, so we take him to the feds.” She said.

“No,” Scarlet said, waving the recording. “I got what I need, let's head out.” Duke shot the woman a dirty look before she vaulted over their hiding place with her gun and snuck on the floor that Mindbender was on. Weems, Tunnel Rat, and Roadblock following her lead.

Mindbender typed away on his computer and saw the reflection of a young woman with blonde hair and bright blue eyes holding a gun to his head.

He glared at her and soon realized that the scent he had caught a whiff of earlier.

He rolled his eyes as he realized where he had seen her before.

She was some random teenager at the time in high school that the Commander had taken an interest in at the time.

He took note of the Alpha and Beta behind her. She had obviously taken the lead.

“Brian Bender, you’re under arrest.” She said with strong authority in her tone.

It was honestly kind of hilarious. He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the trio.

The blonde looked shocked and lowered her weapon for a brief second before baring her fangs and raising it again glaring daggers at him.

Mindbender continued to laugh. After a minute he wiped away the tears and leaned closer to the keyboard behind him and smiled

“Doubt it.” He said smugly as he pressed a button.

As Duke glanced at the other members of her team sneaking up behind the deranged doctor a look of confusion in her eyes but her face determined but before she could give another order electricity coursed through her body.

Duke screamed.

She could hear the other members of her team crying out as well but she could barely process it. Duke colloped to the floor, her breath shaking as her vision went in and out.

She saw the scientist walk up to her but stepped over her. Duke weakly turned around trying to process what was happening but just as her vision went black she saw him press a button and a dark blue goop spewed from something in the ceiling that seemed to be trying to take a form but failed.

Mindbender smirked as he turned to the group of soldiers on the floor. The Omega, the only one still semi-conscious. He walked up to the blonde grasping her chin, tilting her face up, turning her face side to side examining her before letting go of her face letting her fall to the ground, Duke letting out a small grunt of pain.

“Maybe you grunts have some use after all,” he said in a chirpy tone. That was the last thing she heard as her vision blurred and slowly faded to black.

Now

Duke's face scrunched up in disgust as she felt the strange blue goop pour into the humanoid shape hole she and Scarlet were tied up in. It landed with a gooey splat as it filled up just enough to where the two women could keep their heads up. It felt slimy and unnatural against her skin.

She could hear Roadblock yelling at the crazed Beta about how he couldn't do this while Weems made a joke/plea to the ninja to Houdini them out of their current predicament.

Mindbender cackled and smiled at the soldiers.

"You see grunts. I can do whatever I want because Cobra lets me.” He continued to walk, letting his hand slide against the railing as he continued.

“Once you five are recycled in my biomatrix, you will be reborn as the first group super soldiers for Cobra.” He said excitedly. Leaning over the railing a mad glint in his eye.

He turned on his heel and threw his hands in the air.

“No more pesky Omega heats for blondie. Nor ruts for Mr. Ninja, muscles and red!” He let out an excited laugh as he clasped his hands.

“You'll actually have a purpose besides to breed!” He turned around and leaned over the railing once more, resting his chin in his palm.

“How amazing is that. You will be the first unit in Cobra’s first Bioviper army!” Mindbender turned back around and began to fiddle with the machines to get it ready when he heard a screen flicker on behind him. He turned around and saw the familiar face of an older Omega woman.

Her hair was deep black, almost purple cut into a bob that was a beautiful contrast to her pale skin, her lips painted red. Her dark brown eyes practically glared daggers into his soul as she adjusted her rectangular glass on her button nose.

Mindbender huffed in annoyance at her.

Anastasia, Better known as The Baroness, was the Commander's, right-hand woman.

“Doctor, I heard there was a security breach at the lab” She purred in a deep Russian accent. She was calm on the outside but he knew just how dangerous she actually was.

She was the only Omega that he was truly afraid of. But given her history, it was wonder why the woman was so cold and calculating.

Mindbender smiled and waved his hand nonchalantly.

“Handled it. Just a group of green shirts busted in and tried to arrest me. Go figure.” He chuckled.

Baroness cut her eyes at him. “Then I expect to have a full report when you're done.” She said calmly before her screen flickered off.

Nicky “Tunnel Rat” Lee was not having a good day.

The small Omega crawled through the fabric pipework and looked for his team.

He had been lied to by a superior, dragged into something he wanted no part in. Shot at. And now he was crawling through a literal mad scientist lab.

Go figure.

Tunnelrat almost let out a loud whoop as he finally spotted his team. He took out a small pocket knife and cut the thick fabric open and crawled out.

“I know I disobeyed orders, didn't want to.” He said with a laugh as he cut the rope that held Duke and Scarlet.

Duke rubbed her wrist and smirked at him as she got herself up out of the slimy blue goop. “Expect yourself to be a court-martialed soldier.” She said with a laugh

Scarlet soon followed, elbowing the blonde as she chimed in. “I outrank her. You’re pardoned.” He was about to help Mr. Ninjaman and Weems but the Snakeeyes had already gotten out and was uniting Weems binds.

Just as they were going to make a break for it a large gooey thing landed in front of them. Duke watched in horror as it sprung in the air twisting and turning until it took a very large humanoid form and roared at them.

DUke grabbed a grenade that had been on TunnelRats belt and threw it at the thing once it lunged at them and it exploded with a loud boom.

Her ears were ringing, but she couldn't worry about that now. She looked back up at the railing and saw the crazed Scientist run.

Duke let out a growl and jumped on a dangling wire and climbed up it quickly.

Mindbender saw the Omega coming up to him and fast.

Her bright blue eyes were cold and icy as she glared at him.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen that exact same expression just moments ago.

Duke made it to the railing and threw herself over it with a firm grunt. She spotted Mindbender running away from a computer and she could somewhat hear a monstrous roar through her still ringing ears.

She turned to see her team fighting more of the blue slime things, but when she turned back around the madman was gone.

Duke snarled “Where's Mindbender!” She snapped.

She saw Snakeeyes bolt after a figure in a lab coat that ran into an underground train that quickly sped off.

And just like that Mindbender was gone.

Duke saw electricity spark into the vat that she and the other had been in and more of the monsters came out of it.

“We need to shut off the power!” She hollered

“It’s locked!” Tunnelrat screamed.

Roadblock's eyes lit up as he got an idea.

“How about we light up this factory-like the fourth of July!” He asked.

“How?” Scarlett questioned.

Moments later everyone had grabbed a piece of tech whether it be an actual weapon or a cable that someone *Duke* had ripped off one of the machines and fought back while Scarlett and Weems dealt with the generator.

As Duke stabbed another Bioviper and saw therest of her team begin to head for the exit.

She heard Weems swear and saw him jump off the railing and head back to the machine he and Scareltt had rigged to blow.

It had gotten unplugged in the scuffle.

She saw him heading up the stairwell so she continued to head to the exit as well.

He has only a few steps behind her.

She heard him let a startled yelp.

She turned around and saw him yanked back by another Bioviper.

She ran back, she had to get him out.

Electricity was flying everywhere. She was on the stairwell now.

But he only smirked and looked ot the Bioviperes holding him back.

SHe didn't hear what he said to them.

And then.

There was the boom.

“No!” She screamed.

Duke felt herself be blown back in the explosion.

Shards of metal bursting apart hitting and cutting into her arms.

She felt a large hand yank her by the collar of her shirt and thrown over a shoulder. She watched in horror as the machines around them were blown to pieces.

At that moment all Duke could see was the fire.

Roadblock ducked and rolled as they were hit with the last blast of the explosion in the air. He rolled on his back holding Duke tightly until the explosions ceased.

A wave of pheromones quickly hit his nose but he couldn't process that now as he saw doors open and people scrambling to get out, he picked up the Sargent and bolted for it with the others.

They were headed for the helicopter they had arrived but it was soon nothing but worthless hunks of metal as debris from the building hit it.

Snake Eyes quickly “commerderd” a vehicle and Scarlett threw the doors open. Roadblock set Duke down carefully and went for the driver's seat as Snakeeys left it to check on the others before disappearing altogether once more.

Scarlett looked at the blonde Omega. She was shaking. Scarlett felt guilt as she looked over the Sargent.

Anyone could tell she was in distress.

They all were.

But Duke.

They didn't know what was happening until it was too late.

The flood of distressed and frightened omegas hormones quickly flooded the van.

TunnelRat bolted to Duke who had begun to rock herself back and forth. Her head between her hands. Scarlett got up but Tunnel Rat snapped at her.

“Back off!” He demanded.

“She’s going into a stress-induced heat. We don’t need to make decisions that's going to do more damage to her in the long run cause you can’t keep your knot in check!”

Tunnel Rat carefully pried Duke’s hands from her hair. Her tight bun now in disarray, her cheeks stained with tears.

“Sarge can you hear me.” Tunnel Rat asked her.

Duke nodded.

“Okay, that's good. I need you to focus on your breathing okay.” He continued. Duke let out a shaky breath a choked sob finally leaving her throat.

Tunnel Rat pulled the taller Omega in a hug. Duke buried her face in the crook of her fellow Omega’s neck inhaling his scent.

Tunnel Rat continued to take care of Duke shooting dirty looks in Scarlett’s direction until Duke managed to pass out.

“Will she be alri-” “Not. A. Word.” Scarlett paused as Tunnel Rat turned to her.

“You have lied to us and to who knows how many people.” He snarled.

“We lost a man in the field cause of your secrets!” Tunnel Rat pointed at the sleeping blonde. “She’s most likely about to go into a stress-induced heat cause of this.” Tunnel Rat let out a hollow laugh.

“And if she does she’s going to have to go through by herself cause her mate isn't here! And I am sure as hell not letting you guys- No offense Roadblock.” Tunnel Rat quickly added. The large Alpha had been nothing but kind and respectful to all of them. So it didn't seem fair to lu,p him in with Scarlett.

“None taken.” He chimed. “I get what you're trying to say and you're right.” Roadblock glanced at the three in the back. He reached in his pocket and felt Weems dog tags against his palm.

They had been pulled off in the skirmish. Roadblock was lucky and managed to catch them before everything went so, so wrong.

Duke let out a small whimper and the three silenced themselves. They could figure it out once they got back to base. Right now everyone just needed to rest.

Anastasia walked up to the now-destroyed building taking in the damage.

Under Control. Yeah right.

Anastasia says Mindbender rummaging through the rubble. She would ignore him for now. RIght in this instant, she needed to salvage any footage she could find and maybe figure out who the group of soldiers were.

She slid down the crater that had once been a lab with ease and took in her surroundings, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath.

Her eyes snapped open. There once a mix of scents of course. Alphas, betas, and omega. But one, in particular, caught her attention.

One she hadn't smelled in over twenty years outside of the tiny pink baby blanket that the cub had been placed in. That scent in particular going stale after all these years. But she wouldn't forget it.

She couldn't.

After all. How could any mother ever forget the scent of her own cub?

#my post #mypost #my writing #gi joe renegades #duke #conrad hauser #a/b/o #omega duke #fem Duke #their princess all grown up #chapter 5

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