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igotathingforvampires · 3 years ago

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Aro Volturi N.S.F.W Alphabet

CANON DIVERGENT.

Info on Reader: Reader is an Elemental Gift user like Benjamin

CW/TW: a SLIGHT MENTION of assault but NO DETAIL AT ALL (as a SA survivor I do not use this lightly but I do like representation and not having the survivor be that cliche broken doll we end abusers here thank you)

How you two met:

You…..oh you. You’re standing with the Cullens wondering how the FUCK you got here.

Why am I here? What’s with this tiny little kid who can touch me and tell me things. Awe but she’s cute.

You’re just a bored Vampire who knows Carlisle and is Esme’s BFF.

You’re a nomad, and a badass one, see your gift is the Elements like Benjamin, it’s why Amun has his eye on you and is freaked out.

You and Benji are buddies now. Benjamin specializes in Earth and Water. You specialize in Fire and Air.

So now, here you are watching a bunch of cloaked baddies stomping towards you. But Carlisle and you have spoken frequently, the Volturi aren’t bad.

However, they are cautious.

And caution bred by fear is something you know to be wary of.

So you keep yourself a bit behind Carly. Waiting and watching.

The leader— that must be Aro you think, flings his hood back and suddenly you feel your entire chest clench up and a yank within yourself towards him. “Oh what the fuck.” You growl. Glancing UP at the Old Gods you couldn’t help but snap at them “ARE YOU ALL KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?! HIM?!”

The platinum haired man barked angrily, “who dares?!”

Aro is too busy glancing at his brother Marcus who’s smiling. He nods at Aro and huffs a bit of a sigh.

The raven haired man turns ever so slowly, casting his red gaze over the crowd and it falls to Carlisle. “Carly.”

“Aro?”

“Who is that behind you.” Aro can feel his chest hurt like a chain is being pulled.

Carlisle looks confused and glances behind him where you are shaking your head face palming—looking embarrassed.

Edward and Bella are utterly confused, before Edward listens to Aro’s and your thoughts and gets a look of disgust, “REALLY.” He barks.

You feel the rage of a thousand suns consume you. “I CAN’T PICK IT YA KNOW AND HEY WHADDAYA MEAN REALLY —ASSHOLE DON’T TALK ABOUT MY MATE LIKE THAT!”

The entire field is utterly still as you’re heaving, standing on your tip toes in front of the bronze haired vampire pointing at Edwards cringing face, “but it’s—“ he starts, you let out a growl and sparks fly off you.

Edward shuts up.

“I will light your ass on fire.” You whisper hiss.

The Volturi are just tilting their heads like WTF.

Marcus is trying not to laugh, Caius has just become stunned glancing between his brother and the woman across the battlefield.

Aro is getting GIDDY.

“And who is the girl.” He asks.

You turn, your hips swinging with attitude and your arms crossing as you scoff. “Psh, get a load of this Mother fucker,” you whisper to yourself glaring across the expanse of space. “HEY. I have a name.”

------

-----

His First Impression:

Of course my mate swears like a sailor.

Is Aro’s first thought.

His next thought is that you’re awful adorable. Awe so lithe and cute and— Much too … hm, much too adorable to be mine I would think how In the —a violent wind kicks up and flames burst out from your body enveloping your form as you take a few steps forward.

Ah there it is.

“You wanna ask me my name— darling.” You smile wide at him.

“Of course,” his purr is laced with annoyance, but he’s far too intrigued. “Who might you be?”

“I’m y/n. No last name, my parents were assholes.” You shrug. “So, we doing this trial or we figuring the whole—“ you wave your hand between the gaping maw of land between you two, “bond thing.”

Aro pauses, a twitch on his lips, “after the proceedings cara mia.”

“Ooo… love me a man that speaks Italian—” You smirk, raising a brow and cock your head to the side.

Aro makes a stifled choked off growl as his eyes go black— thank God he lost the ability to blush as arousal slammed into him like a freight train.

You’re obviously annoyed, and have as Caius mutters ‘more balls than a Christmas tree’ and you are ready for this trial to be over.

Frankly so is Aro he wants to drag you back to Volterra and bring you to heel.

Not that he thinks that’s going to happen.

But he loves playing with fire. And you’re full of it.

He watches you glance at the Cullens and the half-breed. “Alright Nessie come on let’s show him what you can do kiddo.” You scoop the girl up and you and the Cullens walk over with Jake behind you.

-----

When does he know of his feelings?

When within reaching distance you set Renessme down and pat her head, “okay tiny Loch Ness, say hello.”

Bella is panicking, but she trusts you it seems, she better, you have no qualms frying— sans mate— every vampire here. They do their little song and dance. Aro tries to talk about the danger and you feel your temper boil over.

“Darling.” You croon taking a step forward with a sharp but soft smile.

You remind him of a lioness, purring softly but ready to tear into him with one movement.

He raises a brow; you are in 6 inch heels putting you nose to nose with him. “Yes carissima?” He breathes deep and nearly groans out loud, you smell so good, like spring and a heady feminine scent like perfume edged in lilacs and lavender.

“Could you pretty pretty pretty please just keep an eye on little Nessie— I hate to tell you but she’s quite important to me and I can assure you she fits in with humans better than the Cullens do.”

“And if I don’t.”

You let flames dance in your gaze. “I’ll roast everyone here except your brothers and their mates and make you start the fuck over without me.”

Aro’s done.

Cupid has struck him in his dead heart.

He’s never been more terrified or aroused or enraged at once at your dulcet threat purred from such sweet lips.

He wants to grip you by your hair to him, pick you up and haul you to somewhere private and teach you a lesson.

He wants to fight you. And it’s quite clear you’re ready to rumble, though he’s not sure you’d let him win. Or that it wouldn’t end up tangling in a bed somewhere on fire. That’s fine too.

A manic grin spreads across his face, eyes going pitch black as he snatches you up by the waist and hauls you closer loving the startled look in your eyes settling into something dark and wanting. “And if I agree?”

The brothers roll their eyes.

Go figure you’d be as bat shit as he is.

“I’ll leave with you right now.” You give him THAT look matching his almost mad grin.

A low purr echos from him making Bella clap her hands over Nessie’s ears. “Una ragazza così meravigliosa, credo che mi piaccia come funziona la tua mente.” Such a wonderful girl, I think I like how your mind works.

But your plans to drag your mate off end as Alice shows up with her witness right when he’s about to whisk you off for some obvious adult time.

Both of you sigh put out and exasperated.

Yes you just about ended an entire potential threat with batting pretty eyes and coaxing the leader of the Volturi into some fun.

But now that’s ruined because of the psychic. Alice is looking rather embarrassed as the proceedings go. Given that she probably saw how everything was about to go down.

Aro can sense you’re as annoyed as he is, that and you’re not leaving his side. And you don’t mind touching him but you’re not because oh yeah he needs to focus. But oh he can see your hand twitching towards his own.

He can easily turn his gift off and so he does and grips your hand, quickly jerking you to his side.

Electricity lights along your skin at the contact and both of you jolt a moment and glance sideways looking amused.

This was going to be fun.

——

How’d you end up with the Volturi?

Alice and her witnesses ease their concerns about Nessie. Aro placates the Volturi as you linger back behind him a bit. Everyone just poof! Vanishes.

“So ah, can we get my stuff first before you whisk me off around the world?” You ask sweetly.

Aro’s a bit startled, “you wish to leave already?”

You realize he would be willing to stay for a bit and let you acclimate.

“Nah where you go I fucking go, come on baby. Let’s get the fuck outta dodge.” You give him a teasing shove as you walk by making Carlisle’s coven silently shake in mirth at his surprised expression.

Carlisle murmurs, “Good luck Aro.”

“Fuck off Carly.” The King growls back before following you.

That’s all they wrote.

You were in. And you made yourself at home quite easily.

Jane and Alec adore you— you saw them and just SQUEEd. “OMG they’re so DEADLY but so CUTE!”

Jane wasn’t quite sure what to do with you picking her UP and hugging her nuzzling your nose to her cheek, “she’s just a tiny tot of doom I adore it! We’re going to burn the SHIT outta people.”

Alec just sat starry eyed as you ruffled his hair, “I know boys don’t like being picked up.”

Jane had become a koala on you. And you didn’t mind.

Well. You’re Mama now. Aro couldn’t be more pleased as you continue to help develop their skills trying things outside of the box.

See, that’s also a sort of talent you have— you can help people learn how to use their gifts because of how you think. Not a gift per say, but certainly useful.

Jane it turns out can utilize the fire element.

Alec can utilize air.

With you knowing both you’re easily able to teach Alec how to hone his targets and even allow his gift to POP UP near someone rather than from his hands.

Jane is capable of setting shit on fire now.

Aro isn’t sure if he’s proud or worried.

Bit of both. But you are STERN with their use of powers. And when Jane set Felix’s foot on fire she was forced to shine everyone’s shoes in the Volturi in the afternoon and write 200,000 times at HUMAN PACE. “We do not light family on fire.”

She never did it again.

The inner coven loves you. Caius and you are besties Marcus is like a big brother always doting on you. Athenadora and Sulpricia are of course still together as companions, and don’t worry about his ex wife— they were on the rocks she’s ecstatic someone else can keep him in line.

The coven instantly takes to you, in fact you’re now basically Mother to everyone. Scolding, teaching, comforting, you do it all. But you’re also a leader and a ruthless one at that.

A perfect fit Aro thinks.

——

How’d he deal with his emotions?

You are driving Aro FUCKING CRAZY.

Literally mad.

You know how to push his buttons and you are not one to do as told. So for him, he who has anyone bending to his will to see you just cock a brow at him and laugh “awe.”

He wants to choke you half to death.

You are a Queen. He tells himself. It’s to be expected that you’d challenge him.

Sulpricia finds it HILARIOUS and you two are besties. Fuck that’s all he needs. She is ever so encouraging of your independence.

He often finds himself in Sulpricia’s study pacing rampantly, “what am I going to do with her?”

“You know you like it.” Sully says lounging back on her couch. “If you didn’t you wouldn’t be so utterly ass over tea kettle.”

Aro is not good with his emotions when it comes to jealousy. And he is JEALOUS.

You’re perfect to him, utterly beautiful, you are the sun and he Icarus stupidly flying as high as he can towards you in hopes to reach the light.

You’re also inclined to let him touch you whenever you want to express things without using words— and you’ve learned to let him speak to you telepathically as well.

So often you just sit with your pinkies touching on a couch and have back and forth silently except for the occasional twitch on your lips at a humorous comment.

You’ve managed to make him huff a laugh occasionally.

But he is utterly posessive. He does not like it when men stare too long, admiring is one thing, but nothing escapes Aro.

So when a lower guard had been in trouble for an infraction and when you had disciplined him the utter disrespect for a concubine replacement was across Aro’s mind and…welll—

Guard died.

You had just looked startled and gave a ‘oh well’ kinda shrug before touching ARo’s hand. Feel better baby?

Yes you called him baby in private, so modern, and he would NEVER admit he loved it. Baby, darling, love, honey, the list went on and each one twisted his insides into ribbons of absolute adoration.

You had actually taken to the bond so well Marcus had informed him that it was practically cemented.

His only hang up was himself.

——

Who does he ask for help?

Didyme is no longer there— his dear sister, a deep sorrow as he was accidentally responsible for her death.

Marcus however is always there to be the voice of reason, and he sits Aro down and listens to his brother spill his guts. Aro is terrified, he is well aware he is THE monster that makes OTHER monsters keep in line.

But for you to look at him like that? He could never bear it. His heart would break.

Marcus sighs, “Aro come here.” He drags his brother to the training grounds.

Where Aro get’s to see his mate literally tear apart the entire guard with blades…. Did his eyes deceive him— were those made from vampire ash and fangs?!

You pause your onslaught, “oh hi darling!” You prance over and smile, “like them? My witch-smith friend made them for me! Fucking bastards kept coming for me after awhile and ya know I just hate the idea of wasting shit.”

Marcus glanced at Aro and gave him a I told you so.

“Everything okay?” You ask looking concerned. You are dragging him along as he partially willingly let’s you take him to his sister’s gardens. “What’s wrong?”

And so, he exhales and does the one thing he’s never done with his gift.

He touches your hand and shows you his own thoughts.

He expects your recoil. Expects you to shun him. Expects your hatred and braces himself for it.

You gasp and when he’s about to drag his hand away and you grip him tighter. “No don’t…let me…” and so you watch— thousands of years of memories over the course of a week or two. Asking silent questions as the images play, getting silent answers in return.

And so, in return, you show him your human life— a life that had been riddled with abusers, torment and lack of love, the iron in your spine that had solidified your creation when you had dragged yourself from an open alley way at dawn into the sewer system after being left to die being drained by a nomad after a brutal assault. You shared with him that it had taken a lot for you to even move after what had happened.

Esme had found you.

And so your friends made sure you were okay even if you didn’t follow their diet.

You both spend time going over your pasts, Aro gently asking questions and you doing the same to answer as best you could.

It was why Rosalie and you got along so well, there were some experiences one could only understand by going through it. And you both had learned how to cope with the trauma you had.

Aro is patient, both of you taking time to feel through each others wounds, taking time to rework into each others personal space.

Marcus is stunned to tell Aro that the bond is nigh unbreakable after this exchange.

The Kings magically -coughs- big brother Marcus loses his shit finding out and Caius leads the search party with Demetri— cough cough— find the nomad and he’s now in a box limb free 15 feet below the dungeon with a tube connecting him to the surface, his tongue removed and he only gets blood once a year. *Jane lit them on fire multiple times to practice her accuracy and aim*

You find out of course, and smile through the dry sobs as all three embrace you like a big protective group hug. For the first time in a very long time, it’s safe.

Truly safe.

——

What happens when he tells you?

Aro is a man of few words, and honestly not much is needed between you two with the ability to go back and forth with his gift.

So in the middle of a walk in Didyme’s gardens he merely grabs your hand gently and kisses the top of your fingers.

And you’re flooded with his emotions.

The warmth and tenderness and absolute adoration is almost enough to restart your dead heart as venom pools in your eyes. “Aro…”

He loves you, loves you more than his own life, would give anything for you to make you smile.

This isn’t the love that is complacent, to just sit idle and rust away, he wants to chase you for eternity, whatever it takes to keep you at his side.

And you flood him right back— lowering the barriers you had and after a moment he merely leans down and presses his forehead to your own, giving the two of you time to just bask in the warmth of affection that’s swirling back and forth akin to the waves of the tide under the moon and sun at twilight.

——

First Kiss?

The leaders of Volterra were in the throne room, the Queens having their own thrones behind their husbands but visible carved in different woods to represent their personalities with different intricate features much like the brother’s thrones holding different crowning points but all the same color.

Your own is the same color as Aro’s throne, but mingled with mahogany accents. Ruby red stones slotted at the top with a crescent moon and sun carving emboldened with gold spiked halo.

Caius' mate's throne is a pale color, affixed with branches and beautiful earth like tones, complimenting her grounded nature.

Marcus’ Witch Mate is merely embellished in a ash throne, deep red almost black gems and the symbol for the overall witch and vampire alliance above her throne.

With all three positions of Queen in Volterra taken up by a true mate, it is the most stable the Volturi have been in several millennia.

But that day in particular was rough, there were a few traitors that had been brought forward— and one of them had managed to get loose from Felix as Aro had been gaining information lunging for the King’s throat.

You moved so fast no one even saw you as you streaked forward like a ghost and lobbed the vampire’s head off holding a blade made of vampire teeth expertly with an animalistic snarl.

You had positioned yourself in front of Aro, crouched, blade poised and your eyes wide and wild, teeth flashing with a dangerous snarl.

Marcus’ witch had already shielded Aro but paused when she saw how enraged you were. Athena and Sulpricia had faltered, Caius looked utterly proud.

You spun round, dropping your blade— knowing Felix and the others had everything in hand as Aro had reached for you, the two of you locked in an embrace, his hands holding your face still as your own hands grasped his wrists. Foreheads pressed together—

The coven was used to this, a private conversation but you could feel the utter terror that had gone through him when he saw you out of the corner of his eye. If anything had happened to you—he was almost angry at you.

But he could easily sense the rage that had consumed you at the thought of someone hurting him. Despite knowing the guard and Jane would Never allow it, your instincts had taken over.

No one would ever take from you again.

And you had been frightened.

Behind that rage when he got past it was utter fear that he’d be gone and you’d be all alone again all the tender memories would be the last you’d have of him as you gave a dry sob before the venom dropped from your eyes— a true show of vampiric emotion that was a rarity.

“Carissima, no. I’ll not leave you that easily.” He murmured and not giving a flying fuck about anyone in the room kissed you full on the mouth gathering you up in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered half broken against his mouth. “I’m sorry-“

“I know I know, shhh cara mia shhh,” gathering you up he merely flitted out of the room leaving the others to deal with the issue.

Tons of snuggles. He had bundled you up to him in his private rooms and merely kept your hands together enjoying the shared emotions knowing the other was close and safe.

Aro knew exactly how to calm you, he merely showed you all his favorite memories, of the coven, of his travels, the antics his brother’s got up to. He replayed the moment he first saw you.

That always made you laugh of course she swears like a sailor.

——

First Time?

It’s in an elevator.

Okay so here’s the thing. The Volturi have these massive events, and your official coronation happens at one of these.

Aro is so proud.

And so fucking jealous as you are danced across the floor with other vampires— who are oh so respectful and as they should be as Aro watches from the upper floor like an angel of death.

You look stunning, your smile lighting up the entire ballroom, friends from near and far are there— even then Cullens— God bless Carly he even had animal blood brought for him.

You’re dancing around with Nessie laughing and watching the girl child giggle like a fiend before handing her off to the Shifter Aro hated the smell but it was what it was.

Over the course of the evening he was getting awful tired of sharing you. And as the evening wound down to an end you both were just going to take the elevator back up to the private rooms as the Ballroom was on the top floor of Volterra.

The energy crackled in the small space and you both glanced at one another. It was like a short fuse had been lit on a stick of dynamite.

We’re so not doing this in an elevator are we?

You didn’t realize you had said it out loud even as you both gravitated towards one another and his hands tangled into your hair sending gold pins flying to the ground as his mouth found yours and you let out a deep moan as his tongue swiped your lips before you happily opened them.

“We’re going to be patient. Cara mia. ” He said sternly more to himself than you— then groaned when your teeth tugged gently on his bottom lip knowing it drove him crazy. “Sarai la mia morte. Sulla mia tomba scriveranno 'ha giocato con il fuoco ed è perito felicemente’” his voice became heated as his hands moved over your form, “non mi importa più, vieni da me mia fiamma, brucia con me.” You will be my death. On my grave they will write 'he played with fire and perished happily'. I don't care anymore, come to me my flame, burn with me.

His hands were gripping your backside and hauling you up, pressing himself firmly between your thighs before grinding against you. But when his teeth scraped your neck your brain shorted out—

“Oh for gods sake Aro just fuck me already—” your hands were scrabbling at his waist coat and shirt pleased how easily the buttons pinged off the walls of the elevator.

Your mate let out a pleased noise, one that was utterly inhuman when your hands tangled into his raven locks and knocked the golden V pin to the floor allowing the ocean and pomegranate scent of his to curtain you from the world as he bent his head down and kissed you as if it were the last thing he would get to do just then. Right before he smacked his hand against the emergency stop button jolting the ride to the private floor still.

If you thought his kisses were something to be swooning over— because he always knew what you needed.

Well his gift extends to much and he is in tune with it.

Your mind is his favorite place to be, and he brutally uses what he knows to his advantage as his fingers skim up your legs flinging your skirt over your thighs to teasingly grind himself against you till you’re almost clawing at him half feral.

“My pretty little mate—“ he croons at you, “you looked so beautiful cara mia,” kissing down your throat before biting marks into your flesh licking them before continuing on as his teeth jerk the fabric of your bodice and sleeves off not even bothering with his hands. “E tu sei tutto mio, cazzo.” And you’re all fucking mine.

You were busy molding your hands against his form, loving how it was just ratcheting up his half mad with desire motions, twitchy, greedy, desperate to touch, “What was it you joked about that one time?” He was referring to a memory with your best friends over drinks.

You gulped and shivered a bit. “I believe I said sometimes a girl just wants to ahem— get slammed to a wall and fucked stupid?”

He smirked as his hands tore fabric off you letting his fingers to glide along your skin, allowing your own to do the same and showing you know exactly what he liked through the bond of touch.

If you’d been human the air would have left your lungs as he pressed his body tight to your own, pinning you in place letting you feel what you did to him, the hard length of his cock pressed into your belly. “What do you say we take care of that, hm?”

You’re speaking in tongues before he even takes you fully, and roughly, there’s no slow tender love making and frankly you’re just glad for it.

His wild smile sliding into a predatory proud smirk when you’re just a mess; whining at him, begging, pleading, twitching against him and oh you’re just so pretty when at his mercy.

He literally has the tongue of the devil.

“Did I finally break you little one?” He croons despite his rough movements sending you into another shockwave of bliss as your nails make claw marks in the wall.

Fuck he had— you’ll do anything if he’ll just continue.

Your submission is like a drug, he’s mad on it, hands digging against you, making small fissures of cracks along your hips that make you groan gleeful as you push closer for more of his touches.

“That’s right bambi, give me everything.”

That’s all you hear before he’s fucking you into the wall of the elevator, sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck just to relish in the pain and pleasure filled noises that escape from you as you beg for more, more, just please give more it’s all you want.

“My good bambi.” He growls as he begins it all over again, rumbling in your ear as your try to escape the onslaught of sensations— but happy you can’t as his grip has you immovable. “You’re not escaping me just yet.”

You’re both a mess, not that either of you care. Adjusting yourselves as best you can—

You’re lucky his private rooms are close and he simply carries you and flits you both into his rooms; you both end up continuing what was started.

——

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is a touch telepath, he knows exactly what you need.

But he also surprises you with what you didn’t even know you needed.

Snuggles, so many snuggles— Aro is not a tactile person— but with you?

Forget it.

He’s practically melting into your form and trying to fuse himself to you.

Massages, nuzzling your hair, biting.

Lots of biting— but not hard bites, love bites. Pressing his teeth to your skin to leave little imprints that he just can’t get over. You always poke fun at him for it.

Plus let’s face it.

Bite = Love.

He and Caius are on one mind with that.

He also took a note from Marcus and you both enjoy the heat of the baths together after a particularly long rough romp.

Which turns into a bath romp.

Because ahem *REASONS*

“I’m King I don’t need a reason to have you— now come here.” He’ll huff imperiously when you giggle at him as he drags you close into his embrace kissing you.

Okay he lies.

You looked too pretty in the bath.

Aro can’t help himself. That’s the reason.

——

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He is SHOOK when you tell him your favorite thing about him is his hands. You never feel misunderstood.

Even in the rare fights you simply huff and reach out to him, wiggling your fingers with a pleading glance; or if he won’t take your hand you’ll walk over sit in his lap and headbutt your forehead to his like an angry cat.

But usually Aro will take your hand and you both have a deep understanding of where you’re both coming from.

After a few moments it’s settled.

You kiss his hands, he knows you love how he plays you like a finely tuned instrument when alone.

Love when he delves his fingers into your hair and cradles you close even if you’re in the throne room— he’s the fucking king he can do what he likes damn it.

But Aro is startled by this— everyone hates touching him even though he can control his gift, they seem to think that— aside from his brothers and sister in laws— that he just loves to dive into people’s minds for funsies.

No it’s awful. Plain awful. He can barely stand his own mind why would he want to traverse someone else’s?

But that brings us to what he likes about you— he LOVES your head space. When he’s stressed it’s his favorite place to be because you have a vivid imagination, as a writer as well you show him stories you’ve thought of and worlds you’ve created with vivid detail. He finds it quite amusing to use watch your thoughts too on a daily, you like it simply because he’s close.

But aside from that it’s you.

Just You.

Just ALL of you.

He can’t pick don’t make the man pick, he would just keep you near him for eternity which you seem to have no issues with.

———

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically…I am a disgusting person…)

He is quite a posessive person.

Two Words:

Breeding Kink

You’re his and his alone, so the idea of ah— claiming you that way just sends him off into the ether.

The fact that you both have a breeding kink and literally can’t have kids is a GREAT thing because you’ve literally sat there a absolute mess after round five and thought out loud as he tenderly cleans you up, “shit thank god we can’t reproduce because I am 100% sure that’d have knocked my ass up—” which has had him shaking in mirth having to pause to control himself after a few moments.

Beg him for it.

Make that whining needy noise in the back of your throat at him for him to finally give you what you need.

He’ll just lose it, pin you by the throat and well— you’ve broken a few beds this way.

He has no shame.

Just glances at the bed, hits speed dial to the furniture store and orders a new one.

His only other favorite thing with C as he soon found out from O (you’ll see) was he adores when you swallow down everything he gives you. That’s got him rumbling in Italian about what a good girl you are and how much you please him.

———

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s a MASSIVE Pleasure Dom. And when I say Dom.

HE GOT DOM ENERGY.

With very mild Sadistic tendencies. (Thanks a lot Caius ya pervy fucker)

However he is also a very sincere soft streak when you’re a very good pet.

He picked up pet play from his sadistic brother hearing him call his amore Bunny. One day down the rabbit hole that is Google and he was hooked.

But he calls you Bambi. It’s an Italian term for baby-girl.

It also works because you become like a damn deer in the headlights when he pulls the Dominant voice on you.

It thrums with a low purr and has the capability to just make your brain go wait what?

HE’S A FUCKING SWITCH.

You had been pissed as shit at him. “I don’t know whether I want to strangle you or fuck you to death!” You paused because you had literally throat pinned him to the wall, the stone crumbling beneath him, feeling the muscles of his neck working as he swallowed nervously.

You were about to let go but saw his eyes had gone totally black and expectant and startled but excited.

He was just as fucking confused as you both calculated in a matter of seconds what had happened.

You were first to catch on. “Oh?….OH...….oooooohhhhhhh ….. you….you son of a….” You sputtered as he got a sly grin, “you can’t just look at me like— you are so ill behaved!!”

He wasn’t far behind and raised a black brow at you looking mischievous, “…..and what are you going to do about it mia regina?”

Next thing he knew he was face planted on his office floor with your boot pressed on his cheek making him groan low. “Gonna make you regret mouthing off to me is what I’m going to do my Aro.”

Edge him. Don’t let him touch you all day till he begs. He loves when you exert your authority especially on him? Oh forget it.

Queen Slay.

Literally you are his Queen and you are the only one who get’s to fucking tell him what to do.

And you ruthlessly do so when he’s in the mood. All you hear is “mia regina?” He’ll croon at you, as your hand comes up and drags him to you by his tie.

“would you like to be of service to me Aro?”

Magic words. He’s done, let him have you and he will literally just focus on your pleasure.

Worship Kink.

You had dropped to your knees at his desk and laid your head in his lap and he almost lost his god damn mind. You purred at him, “il mio maestro”.

Aro .exe has stopped fucking working.

———

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Thanks to the tactile telepathy as well as the fact that he and his brothers have slept their way through history, Aro is a very mixed lover.

When I say greedy as a lover, he wants your pleasure for himself. And will literally drive you to it till you’re sobbing for mercy.

He has none.

But he does take pity on you when he knows you’re truly at your limit with touch.

You weren’t inexperienced but his own experience blew yours out of the damn water. Can literally have you on the edge in mere minuets. And is SMUG about it.

Fucking smug bastard just watching you with that smirk on his face and a ‘well?’ Kinda expression.

You have to beg if you want it.

You have to plead, you have to let him hear you or he’ll just keep going and I quote ‘hmmm I can’t hear you cara mia, you’re being so quiet you know that makes me want to fuck you harder, come now, let me hear you— don’t make me have to drag it from you baby girl. You know I love to hear your sweet sounds.”

Could probably kill you if you weren’t already dead with what he can do with his hands.

His tongue is even better.

When asked which you preferred you had just panted desperately after a hard orgasm, “any. All. Both. God just…holy fuck.”

He cracked up over that. “My poor baby I broke her.”

————

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves having you in his lap.

Prefers to see your face and eyes, seems to need it.

But occasionally he just loves gripping your neck from behind and feeling you gasp against his grip as he slams into you roughly.

Adores anything that has you clinging onto him for dear life.

Likes being in a position to mark you. Favorite thing ever.

You had once tested his patience (willfully hoping for this outcome) a bit too much and he had pinned you completely immobile to the desk of his office and fucked you within an inch of your immortal life gagging you with his black tie.

“you just have to test me don’t you mia regina?” He had growled in your ear leaning over you, his hand crunching the ornate wood to splinters as you keened and whined for him to keep going. “Such a ill behaved thing you are, should just keep you here like this for when I please hm?”

He was not joking, you were kept there quite happily under his desk sitting at his feet your head on his lap waiting and absolutely willing.

He could feel your hands grip his thighs, “quit that I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work—“ his voice teetered off in a guttural growl as he looked down.

You were biting his shirt looking up at him already nudging yourself between his thighs your teeth digging into his trouser zipper and tugging down.

his hands were gripping your hair jerking you up to kiss him deep, a growl against your lips, “Fucking damn it— come here.”

When you can get him to swear which is rare— yeah…

He didn’t exactly sound angry.

But he sure fucked you like he was though.

“This is what you were after hm? You brat!” A harsh laugh as he pinned you down a bit harder, “fine then I should ensure you’re good….and….sated…shouldn’t I bambi?”

———

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very sincere.

Teasing but only in a very sexual way.

Borders on humiliation but he respects you too much.

Very serious though when he focuses on you.

He’s focusing on all the sensations you’re sending him, letting you know what he’s feeling as well which just sets you into the damn ether.

———

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s ARO.

The man is vain.

The man is neat.

Clean and pristine.

He’d give a regal huff of annoyance, “I am not a heathen darling.”

———

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ohhh you wouldn’t know it but he’s such a god damn romantic.

He is. And he MAKES time for you. The schedules are changed so you have time together more often— something that was never done before.

Operas, romantic walks out in Volterra at night.

Sightseeing.

Your favorite was your trip to Germany in the winter with a big cozy cottage and a big fire and lots of bedding to ahem— destroy.

Aro has penguin brain.

He brings you small gifts that made him think of you— you have a bracelet that has special charms he had custom made for you, a lochness monster for when you met, a castle obviously for Volterra, a doe, different tiny items that speckled through your life, each one means something— you hardly ever take it off.

You have a collection of very sparkly stones in many jars that he found on his missions.

They are actually gemstones— insert eye roll— they set off pretty prisms through your shared rooms.

“Aren’t you going to make jewelry of them?” Aro asks.

“No darling they are perfect just as they are.” You smile.

Aro actually has the literal voice of a damn angel.

He sings to you in Italian, soft dulcet sweet tones and dances you around your rooms teasing you relentlessly.

Aro writes beautiful poetry. He will at least write one every few months when inspiration comes to him.

You have your own private box at the opera house. As well as being allowed to fund artists across the world, you’ve found incredible talent on broadway and other venues.

Flowers. Aro ensures care for a private greenhouse for you on the roof, each flower has a meaning, and they all bloom year round given the proper temperatures on the greenhouse. “Why would I send you flowers when they die so easily.” He asks kissing your cheek as you smile over the new blooms. “This is everlasting, much more fitting.” He muses.

All his poetry is in a beautiful book Caius got you for your birthday.

———

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Why would he do that when he has you?

He is a patient man.

He can wait.

And he has pristine control over himself.

He is too old for pre-pubescent raging hormone crap.

But he will legit melt for you if you do it for him. Prefers it slow, enjoying your touch and loves to watch as you take instruction.

You’re such a good girl for him.

————

———

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Aro is a kinky bastard.

MASSIVE Pleasure Dom.

Worship Kink.

Edging.

Controlling Orgasms *you don’t get to come till he gives permission*

Collaring *your Volturi necklace is LITERALLY on a collar*

Overstimulation. *his gift allows him to know when you’re pushed to hard and when you can take a bit more. When you’re craving that over stimulus, he’ll give it happily. Knowing he can turn you into a babbling speaking in tongues, drooling, eyes rolling back mess just— just— GAH.*

Breeding Kink *Aro has a true breeding kink, ask him to fill you up beg him for it and he’s going to lose his mind.*

Gagging. *he loves to gag you, but also loves being choked by you or you grabbing onto his tie.

Wax Play *you’re a fire elemental user, bringing candles into play is just oh it’s nice. * Prefers to have it done TO him. Your air element gift also allows you to cool the wax quickly and give new sensations.

————

———

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Aro is private, he prefers somewhere comfortable to take his sweet time with you.

Rooms Private, hotel, somewhere he can just lavish you and enjoy everything you can give him.

He’d rather take the time to find a nice comfy setting.

But every blue moon— he’ll just look at you in that specific dress molding to your thighs.

He will drag you into an alley way and just rail the shit out of you keeping you quiet with a firm grip over your mouth as he hisses the dirtiest things in your ear.

You two once had a quick rendezvous in a changing room at a theatre. -shrug- it was empty oh well.

———

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

“Master?” You bat your eyes at him

His nostrils flare as he breathes in and just knows exactly what you want and you smell so fucking good.

The tone you use.

He knows. You want him. That’s it.

Unless it’s a trial— and DO NOT DO THIS BEFORE TRIAL.

And if you happen to when he takes your hand send him your fantasies after seeing him standing there all regal and watching his mouth form syllables so well and how much better it’ll be with his mouth— ahem— busy somewhere else.

He will be so mad at you.

He’s glaring at you behind a mask of calm and you can feel the fucking tremor in his limbs.

You just bat your eyes innocently at him and smile.

His face: you’re in SO MUCH trouble.

Brat energy??? During Trial?!??! Now is that the time to give brat energy!!???

Oh. Oh. oh you are so in trouble. When he gets done with ripping some poor idiots head off— okay not really they broke the rules— stalks over to you; grabs you by your oh so pretty collar, “come with me bambi.”

And just pulls you along to your rooms with you giggling the whole way and practically prancing behind him like a— well like a doe prancing into a lions den.

He’s tossed you over his shoulder once and just flitted out of the rooms into your private chambers, hurling you onto the bed before ripping into your clothing. “You best be ready for your punishment.”

“Oooohhhhhh absolutly master.”

“that’s my girl.”

The coven just rolls their eyes. Aro is less manic with you there and you surprisingly bring ease to the coven— so ya know what if that’s what does it whatever.

————

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Humiliation. No.

Impact play is one thing, but to intentionally hurt you no.

If he does impact play one hand is always touching you to ensure you’re okay.

————

———

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving? The man has a wicked tongue.

His oral game is LEGIT.

Will have you in a puddle of twitching ecstasy in mere moments of teasing because he knows where to touch and that’s not just his tongue but his hands.

Will kiss you all over before even getting to the ahem— final destination.

You’re either ready to combust or ready to strangle him when he finally just begins to devour you.

Eats pussy like a man starved but has all the time to enjoy.

Smug as Fuck.

Expect him to just watch you as you’re coming back down from the absolute height he threw you up to and glaring down at his smug grin as he waits before beginning all over again.

Will go all night if you’ve been ill behaved.

Your record is 20 before you BEGGED for a break.

He finally took pity and gave you a warm bubble bath and snuggles and praises.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like receiving, however it was more just a “hm, that’s nice—“

But with you.

Especially when you had decided to walk into his office, lay your head in his lap as you had sat yourself under his desk so he could work while he played with your hair (you have a comfy cushion there who was he to argue if that was the best way to be close and he could get work done??!!)

But his work was abruptly halted when you had nuzzled his cock through his trousers dragging your mouth wide as he became painfully hard in record time.

“what is it you think you’re doing bambi?” He purred looking oh so curious.

“Nothing.” You muffled around him as your teeth found his zipper and trouser buttons with a rather feral sound.

Upon finding out you had no gag reflex and having your nose buried in his pelvis as you moaned around him he was done for and he didn’t even care.

Work was forgotten.

Loves when you pleasure him, but of course has to be in control for the most part.

Buries his hands into your hair and loves throat fucking you, praising you the entire time. “What a good thing you don’t need to breathe dolcezza.”

You had hummed around him ecstatically.

The reward for this is always drool worthy.

Play with yourself as you do and let him see you do so keeping your clothing out of the way and you’ll have him break finally, that cool haughty composure cracking as his gaze goes just utterly uncontrollably wild, his hips moving a bit harder.

————

———

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You both fuck rough.

But you both also love the slow and sensual moments too.

Especially if you have the time to just drown in one another.

It just depends on the situation.

Rough And Fast:

Slow and Sensual is how it usually starts off, he’s so attentive, so soft and cherishes you, that is till you growl at him for more and he has of course no other option but to give you what he wants.

You’re his queen after all what kind of mate would he be if he didn’t give in?

But has today been exceedingly trying for either of you?

Or is your mate quite amped up from a particularly rough trial?

You’ve been pestering him haven’t you? Hmmm.. yeah buckle up.

You’re in trouble and therefore need to relearn where your place is— it’s in your bed, beneath him losing your mind out of pleasure.

And he is all too happy to provide that lesson if you seem to forget.

You try to forget often. You damn brat.

Slow and Sensual

However sometimes he just wants to be gentle. And frankly so do you, you want to just bask in the bond you have and slowly explore all over again despite knowing you have memorized one another to heart by now.

Doesn’t matter, you still find things that surprise you, things that make you smile.

Places that when touched cause a jolt— well that’s new.

“I could spend my entire life mapping out your body carissima.”

“that’s an awful long time in bed.”

Aro would just smirk kissing down your sternum, “oh what a pity— I suppose my brothers shall have to cover for me hm?” Bite marks being pressed into your flesh, “I plan on leaving so many of these that I forget where they are so I can find them later.”

“Such an evil overlord.” But you’re giddy, he’s going to make your entire world tilt again with those slow careful hands of his and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

———

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’d be surprised that such a patient man could be so damn impatient for you.

He’s not as impatient as Caius but not AS patient as Marcus.

So it’s a toss up when he’s twitchy during trials and catches a glimpse of you floating down the hallway in all your grandure and he mentally tosses a coin.

Nope he can’t take it that flash of leg just set him off.

“Excuse me I do belive I remembered something that needs my attention.”

The others just inwardly roll their eyes.

Next thing you know you’re gagged by his tie in his office pinned over the desk with his teeth buried in your neck and frankly you expected this you wore that damn skirt with the slit in it to tease him.

Seeing this just makes him let out a feral noise and a laugh at the end, “oh you planned that hm?” He nibbles the outer shell of your ear, “missed me did you?”

You can only nod as he continues, eyes rolling back as he knows exactly what you’re needing and it’s certainly not gentle right now.

“I have exactly fifteen minutes before my brothers come looking for me— think you can be a good girl and make me come?”

You smirk against the gag in your mouth before purring at him; and it’s off to the races.

He’s in trouble quite often for this— but who’s to argue with him.

He’s king he can do what he wants…. At times….

Okay most of the time.

Plus he’s always in a MUCH better mood.

I wonder Why.

————

———

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

While Aro does love to experiment your safety is his utmost importance.

But he’s a curious bastard and you are right behind him on that scale so sometimes your games become a bit risky.

Never life threatening but oh boy do you two get a grin and just glance at one another, “you know we haven’t done that yet.”

“No…. No we haven’t….”

And that’s how it usually starts.

The worst thing you two can realize is you both utter “I don’t know”.

Well now you have to know if either of you are able to ahem— arrive— under rather dire circumstances such as utilizing your gift (don’t worry your gift doesn’t hurt him he knows how to use fire too surprise surprise.).

You almost had a heart attack though and nearly killed him after.

He just cackled that manic laugh that had you joining in after hitting him several times.

———

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Need I say more than one word?

Vampire.

Aro takes his time most occasions, his slow, slow sweet time.

Now— you’d THINK that the rougher encounters would last a shorter period.

You’re wrong.

So wrong.

He lives for it you’re going to be so happy you’re a vampire and can’t really get sore except for when you both leave cracking handprints on one another.

————

———

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Sensory.

Crops, leather gloves, feathers, ben wa balls are huge and he likes that they are silent but give you that teasing sensation. Wax candle play is huge for both of you and you enjoy long luxurious heated baths and sauna sessions with one another.

Ooooo he loves it.

Leather gloves area huge thing for him but not for what you’d think— he likes to challenge himself.

Sure he can know what you’re feeling but he wants to be in tune with your physical responses as well and so occasionally he dons them just to test his knowledge.

Damn smug overlord is just as good and you hate it and now he’s smirking at you while popping his jaw with his hand on his elbow waiting for you to come back into your body.

“Shut up.” You rasp as your head spins.

“I didn’t say anything.” His raven hair slides across his face as he grins wider.

“Your SMUGNESS IS LOUD ARO.”

“Me?! Smug! Why I never…” -cue the dark chuckle before he starts it up all over again, “maybe once more to ensure you remember it’s not just the gifts edge hm?”

“Ohhhh I’m going to die.” But you reach for him biting his leather clad hands.

“No you won’t.” He hums happily, “I won’t let you. You’re not allowed to leave me bambi.”

————

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HE IS SO DAMN UNFAIR.

But so are you.

He’s not as bad as Caius but he is close, and he only does it with LOOKS.

His eyes are utterly expressive, as is that mouth of his, so when he glances at you in just the right way you can feel it drop down in your gut and sizzle.

And he does it during trial. Oh but when you do it you’re in trouble. Psh.

He’ll tease you and brush your hand as he walks by just to know that you’re basically twitching from frustration at the end of the day and about to boil over as he leans down and licks your neck. “Bambi, awe, was I too mean to you? Hmm I should make it up to you shouldn’t I?”

He always makes it up to you.

The man has the best ways to use his mouth aside from running the coven and giving orders.

————

———

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aro was quite clear studies, and private rooms were to be soundproofed.

He’s loud, swearing (which he normally does not do), praising mess of a man, it’s needed.

And you love it.

You can practically feel the vibration in his chest when he purrs at you, less growling, he’s not as violent unless you get him too worked up.

No no no, he loves making you melt, and knows exactly what to croon at you to make your mind go blank.

———

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s more posessive than Marcus. And that bleeds into a protective nature.

A bit controlling, but he knows very well he can’t do that to you as he had to Sulprica. BUT it doesn’t stop him from trying as gods forbid anything happen to you.

Less Jealous than Caius.

But his ah— mood swings can cause for quite an interesting feat.

Since Marcus and Caius were always the brunt of the bashing and warfare, and he the brains behind the operation, many seem to think he has no bite marks on his body due to not being in the fray.

No.

The problem is Aro becomes too violent. Especially because of his talent when touching his victims it tends to become a frenzy. Once he had decimated an entire coven single handedly because the rage they had was swamping him.

His brothers had to pin him down and try to relay calm emotions— his sister Didyme thankfully had been the one to bring him back.

You yourself are now that calm place.

At one point, a guard had been careless enough to have thought about you in ah— that way— Aro was aware you were quite beautiful, your personality no nonsense and many of the guard and lower guard considered you a maternal figure almost otherwise a very good friend.

But this guard.

Ohhh he coveted. What was not his.

But what was worse, was that on the way to the throne room he had spoken to you rather crassly, you merely ignored him; he wasn’t even worth your time. But he had glanced you over as if you were a rather tasty morsel, the imaginings of you spread out beneath him had Aro’s hands cracking his wrists.

You saw the change slightly as you were behind him. His spine went poker straight. “You dare.” It was worse, the guard had actually tried to think of how to lure you away to him— you were a queen so surely infidelity was expected—

The rumble in his chest was a whole new sound you’d never even heard.

Both Marcus and Caius were sitting straight up and narrowing their gaze at Aro before Marcus flitted over and guided you to Aro’s throne placing you on it and standing protectively in front of you.

“Marcus?” you peered behind the eldest king and he hushed you gently.

The guard was torn apart in mere seconds.

It was utterly ruthless and with no mercy.

“People tend to forget Aro is only about a thousand years younger than I.” Marcus muttered.

You blinked. Aro was at least five thousand meaning that Marcus was Six, Caius being the youngest at three.

Aro speared the entire guard with a terrifyingly cold glare before flitting over to you, gripping your head back by your hair and sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck with a low growl.

The sentiment was well understood as the entire guard backed the fuck away from the dais— he closed the wound before his head shot up and he snarled at the coven tucking you into his embrace your face buried into his robes. “She is mine.” It was a quiet, soft voice that spoke.

“Aro.” you muffled tugging his sleeve and looking up at him.

He showed you “what he had seen and tilted his head. Would you mind cara?”

You lit the bastard on fire with a scowl aimed at the body winding your arms about Aro’s waist and nuzzling into his solid form.

A soft kiss in your hair, his body relaxing. “That’s my bambi.”

———

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Aro although he is lithe and tall….he’s not exactly easy to handle.

9” decent width, knows how to use it.

Be forewarned, he knows what he’s doing.

Tactile Telepathy, good luck remember to keep your head on straight.

————

———

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s less of a wistful like of yearning.

And more a burning bonfire of desire always in the wing of his mind ready to take over the forefront.

One glance at you and he wants you— granted he thinks it might cool down over the centuries but when you look at him like that and bite your lip and grin.

Nah.

Nope. This isn’t going away. Not at all.

He of course has excellent control so he is able to push other desires to the back of his mind, but once finished you are certainly at the front of the line.

Super high.

You both are insane.

You can be sitting reading and next moment with one small brush you’re gone from the library and you’ve tackled him through the doors of your rooms and pinned him to the floor.

Insatiable.

Good luck!

————

———

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Aro LOVES resting with you.

He likes to just lay with his hands on your body and watching your thoughts, you’re his favorite mind to go through and he just adores it.

You both can spend hours like this if you were allowed—

He likes when you drag your fingers through his hair.

Makes him melt.

Kiss across his eyes and kiss his hands as he brushes your mouth with his fingers trying to learn you all over again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.” He murmurs to you lazily. He has you nestled in his arms your head tucked under his jaw.

“That’s fucking fine by me.” You giggle.

He rolls his eyes and huffs a soft laugh kissing the top of your head. “Of course she swears like a sailor…”

#aro volturi

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remmushound · 4 years ago

Text

Bay/rise 46!! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz @dakotafinely @yarchurr @sprinklestheditty @sententiously-sarcastic

Content warning! Mentions of death and suicide

Shredder was fighting with everything he had to free himself. He thrashed around, spinning as much as the tight containment would allow. If anything, he looked like a housecat in a carrier on its way to the vet. The families from both worlds gathered around the containment, much to Shredder’s furious frustration as he tried to slash himself free, but the containment held firm.

“Release me at once!” He snarled, pressing his muzzle to the clear door that didn't quite look to be glass; it had a more pinkish tint, like everything else in this place did.

Mikey and Raph looked at each other, and then looked at Shredder. “NAW!”

“April!” Leo ran to O’neil’s side as she finally removed her disguise, then looked beside her with a more confused look when he saw Casey. “Casey? How are you here— how are you breathing?”

O’neil opened her mouth to show what looked like gum on her tongue. “The other Donnie made these.”

All eyes fell wide on Donatello.

“What? I had a few hours while Leo was coming up with a plan.” Donnie shrugged, “They’re just prototypes. You can keep the rest if you want— I got a dozen more of the things.”

“But how did you—?”

“It’s easy! You mentioned that they shouldn’t be able to breath in here and i figured it was because of the weird properties of the air, but clearly we could breathe here, and so could my April so I took swabs of all of our mouths and then I took a swab of their mouths, compared the differences, and isolated the isotopic signatures that they didn't have and applied that knowledge into creating a gelatin-based supplement, and I gave their bodies a few hours to process the change, and then tested it by putting them near Leo’s rift where the atmosphere’s of both places merged and they were doing just fine so I deduced that my genius worked and we followed through with the plan. Any questions?”

“Several.” Mikey raised his hand.

“Write em down when we get home and I’ll answer them then.”

“Hey— you ain’t got yo uh… shell thing on.” Raph commented when he came behind Donatello.

“Yes— it didn't work with the plan. I needed to make him think I was Leo. Colored lenses, man I tell ya, they’ll change the world! My battle shell’s back home so I’d really like to get back there like ASAP because I am feeling highly anxious right now.”

“For a second there I didn't even think your plan would work.” Leo laughed weakly and shook his head, “Good idea using Draxum!”

Leonardo didn't answer.

“Leo? Donatello asked.

Leonardo walked closer to the containment cell and placed his hand on it, staring in at the tortured figure of his brother. The creature was Shredder in both mind and body, no doubt about that. The armor, the metal ribs, those sickle claws were all Shredder! But the plastron, and those baby blues eyes belonged to Raphael and to see them on someone else— something else— made Leonardo incredibly sad. He wondered if Raphael could still hear him…? Maybe not. But Shredder certainly could, right?

“Can you hear me?” Leonardo whispered to the tank; his eyes locked onto the blue ones just beyond the barrier.

Shredder gave a low rumble and lowered his head to meet Leonardo’s gaze.

“You can, can’t you? I know your name…”

“I am the Shredder…” Shredder rasped quietly.

“No you’re aren’t. The armor is Shredder. I don’t know if you’re him anymore since you swallowed my brother, but you used to be Oroku Saki.”

Shredder visibly flinched at the name, snarling and pulling his head back into his armor as far as it could go. “Don’t say that name…”

“Why? It is your name, isn’t it?” Leonardo asked, “I know it because Draxum told me. He was just a kid back then, but he knows the stories. The stories of the great and noble Oroku saki.”

“What is he doing?” Leo almost snarled, but Draxum held out a hand for silence.

Draxum watched with the utmost curiosity, his eyes shimmering like rubies as he observed Shredder's reaction to every word being said.

“You led the Foot Clan over five hundred years ago, right? Your clan lived in peace, and you learned from the kappa. They taught you ninjitsu and you brought it back to your Clan, didn't you…?”

Shredder gave the lowest grunt. “I remember. I met them when I was young boy playing by the river. I gave them an offering of cucumbers, and as a thanks they gave me my first lesson.”

“I knew you remembered.” Leonardo said, his heart sparking at the implications of what it could mean, “I knew it! Your clan was so… honorable until a great evil came to your land, and you couldn’t fight it off. Do you remember what the evil was…?”

Shredder gave an evil roar and tried to charge the door, though he couldn’t get much of a running start to do any damage. Leonardo held his hands up in peaceful surrender.

“Don’t wanna talk about it! Completely understand!”

Shredder settled back down quickly.

“You must be in so much pain.” Leonardo shook his head slowly as he touched the glass. “Saki… all you wanted to do was protect your clan, and now you’ve had to fight this dark armor for… for years. You… you’re so tired and— and you can’t fight anymore and that's okay! You’ve been fighting for five hundred years…”

Shredder brought the nose of his armor to touch where Leonardo’s hand was, his eyes still watching Leonardo in a quiet observance.

“You don’t have to fight anymore— at least not alone! But Raph… if you can hear me, I need you to fight harder than you ever have. Please… if you d… don’t… then I’ll have to destroy you and I don’t think I can…”

Leonardo rested his head against the door, the coldness of the chamber like sweet relief from the heat of his body.

“I know it's still you in there. I can see your eyes! And I need you to fight this, because if you don't then you’ll destroy me because I can’t destroy you. And then Mikey and Donnie, our baby brothers… they’re gonna have to watch both of us die. Heh…” Leonardo laughed weakly as he wiped his eyes, a wavering smile trying to take hold of his face. “You hear what I said? Baby brothers. Donnie’s older than me, I know, but… it just felt right. Silly Leo huh?”

Shredder didn't answer.

“And not just them. Our father… our sister… our new friends. They’re gonna have to watch it happen. They’re gonna have to watch us die… so I need you to fight this. Please.”

Shredder stared, his eyes like icicles piercing through Leonardo like knives. Still he said nothing. He didn't move, hardly breathed. He just stared.

“Raph…” Michelangelo’s weak voice rasped suddenly, and Shredder snapped his attention to look at the approaching box turtle. Michelangelo was fiddling with his hands in front of him, his head low and eyes wide and sad. “Hi. It’s Mikey. Can you hear me?” He touched the door just as Leonardo was. “I really really want you back. I miss you.”

Shredder stared intently at Michelangelo. Michelangelo looked to Leonardo with a soft whimper, but Leonardo waved him on gently.

“D… do you remember when we ordered that Lou Jitsu video game and… and I really wanted to pick it up all on my own? You were so scared that I would get hurt, because I’m… little and stuff. I’m your baby brother! But even though you were scared, you still eventually let me go? And… when I did get in trouble like you said I would, you didn't yell or shout at me or anything. You just… gave me a hug and helped me! You didn't try to say you told me so even though you did tell me so. Do you remember that?”

Shredder gave a low rumble.

“Raph…” Donatello’s voice came this time, just as straightforward as ever but with a new, gentler tone to it if that were possible. “Do you uh… remember Mrs.Cuddles?”

Shredder gave a sharp growl and pulled back.

“Take that as a yes.” Donatello cleared his throat, “You know how it was my dumb idea for April to bring the doll over in the first place? Just to scare you like a jerk of a little brother?”

Shredder leaned closer once more.

“You… forgave all of us for it… even though it was our fault that the thing nearly killed our family and all of New York? That was pretty cool of you.”

“Red Rover?” This time it was April’s turn to approach, “You’ve always been a good big brother! I remember back when y'all were still eating dumpster scraps and I’d bring y'all snacks any time I could swing it with my parents. And every time, no matter how many snacks I brought, I never seen you eat one cause you were always too concerned with making sure your brothers got something that wasn’t gutter trash.”

Draxum stepped up. “When Michelangelo er… was helping me to change my ways… you hated me. Absolutely despised me, for good reason. I had done terrible things up until that point. Yet… when your brother orange begged you to give me a chance, you did. You didn't trust me, but you trusted him, and you gave me a chance. I thank you now…”

“And when Draxum threw me off a building and I could’ve gotten really hurt you… you dove right down after me. No hesitation, no panic. Just straight down after me and… and you caught me. I was being so obnoxious that day too.”

“My son… My Raphael…” Yoshi was the last to step up, his ears pressed back against his head as he smiled at the Shredder’s eyes. “I remember when you were small enough to fit in my hands. Oh, you were such a fussy baby! I would always sing you and your brothers the same lullaby my grandfather sung to me. You remember how it goes?”

Shredder didn't respond.

“I would hate babysitting beyond the Bon Festival. The snow begins to fall and the baby cries…”

The pupils of Shredder’s eyes dilated, filling almost the entirety of the dark space.

“How can I be happy even when Bon Festival is here…? Unwillingly babysitting thinking of days after mid-summer Bon holiday. The flurry of cold snow continues… and a baby repeating cries. Even come Bon holiday, what is so joyful, no clothes and no sash for attire. The baby is so irritable to cry. That baby’s crying annoys me. Babysitting for a whole day, or even more. Every day I grow thinner. Wishing to get back home in a hurry across the border. That’s my parents' home…” Yoshi gave the softest laugh as he finished the lullaby and wiped his eyes clear of tears. “Oh, how you all loved that song. I… was in a dark place back then— so resentful of where my life was. But you boys helped me more than I could ever thank you for. If there hadn’t have been the need to take care of you, then I… wouldn’t be here today. I would have… done something cowardly. But I’m so glad I didn't. So please, my son… Raphael… let me help you.”

#let us help you

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toukenramblings · 4 years ago

Text

Child Saniwa: Azuki Nagamitsu, Ichigo Hitofuri, Horikawa Kunihiro

Ah shit y’all, back at it again with the memes. Thank you for requestin, love~!

Azuki Nagamitsu

“I am pleased to meet you, my name is Azuki Nagamitsu...”

“....”

Azuki takes one goddamn look at this baby saniwa and is immediately claiming it as his child. Yes he’ll fight the entire citadel to stake his claim, he’s signing the adoption papers right now. No you cannot stop him. He can and will hold all of these children. He has big enough and strong enough arms.

“Pray tell, little one, do you like sweet things?”

“!!!”

Oh Azuki is a bit of an enabler. He does cook and bake a lot so expect him to sneak a lot of sweets and stuff to the lil kid. He already does it with the little ones around the citadel but even more so if he has a close relationship with the child saniwa. Yes he will ensure that they eat healthy and go to bed on time and maybe he’ll bribe them with sweets to finish their chores on time and all but hey, he does care for them a lot!

Azuki always calls them adorable, cute, and so on and so forth. He adores kids and maybe he has a photo album of adorable pictures of the lil saniwa and the rest of the kids around the citadel just napping together and sleeping together and holding hands and being cute, no he’s not crying.

HIs favorite thing to do with the kid is to go shopping with them! Holding their hand as they walk through whatever aisles they are looking at. Yes maybe he’ll sneak some of their favorite treats into the shopping cart, and maybe he’ll have to curb the child’s habit of snacking on everything but he caves in the end. He’s weak to their puppy eyes. Please help him, he might not be strong enough.

Is that one parent at a recital or something of their child’s with a video camera, crying, and screaming: “YOU’RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE”

Azuki isn’t much of a fighter, it doesn’t mean he won’t fucking throw down with the government though. Watch him invite them over for a spot of tea and if they even make a damn negative comment about his master he’ll probably drop some poison in there. No he won’t he’ll just hug the kid closer to him and be that one meme of protecting Kevin Hart.

Azuki is already giving out head pats to all of the kids in the citadel, but to the Saniwa he’s rather physically affectionate. If they want a hug, they can get one. If they wanna hold hands? Hell yeah! Forehead kisses? Damn right he will. Loves giving them head pats and calling them a good kid the most.

Yes he will read them a bedtime story and of course it’s always ones filled with good morals and life lessons!

Azuki is also damn good with sewing. He will make little scarves, and patch up the clothing for the saniwa and even make some clothing for them! He loves it when they are warm and comfy in whatever clothing they like!

Yes Azuki spoils them rotten but he knows his limits. He is the typical overly proud dad who is happy whenever his kid is happy!

Ichigo Hitofuri

"I am Ichigo Hitofuri, the only tachi crafted by Awataguchi Yoshimitsu-”

“....”

The minute Ichi-nii sees this lil kid is his master, he is already bending down to their level and asking where the fuck are their parents. He’s a bit shocked to see someone so young to be his master but he won’t mind. He does have a LOT of little brothers after all! He can take care of them, adding another lil sibling into the bunch won’t hurt anyone!

Adoption papers? Signed? Awataguchi? Accepting of their new sibling. Government? uNFORTUNATELY STILL ALIVE. He knows what it’s like to have trauma and some of his lil bros do have quite a bit of it. Honebami, Yagen to name a few, and pushing such a duty on to such a young person like this...Ichigo won’t lie and say that he isn’t angry at the government for doing this. They don’t deserve this, why can’t they live their life out as a normal kid????

Oh Ichigo has experience in taking care of children and his brothers will also pitch in to make sure that the Saniwa is loved for and taken cared of! They have an army of tantous, two wakizashis, and a tachi at their beck and call now. No one is going to hurt them ever again.

Like Azuki, Ichigo adores children and this little saniwa is no different. Yes he’s rather stern at times and he doesn’t like raising his voice at them but he does need to be a guiding hand at times. He would never hurt them, and he just wants the best for them. He may get angry at them and scold them but he is doing it gently.

Yes the little saniwa is going to get roped into AWT48. Ichigo will personally help them sing and dance as well! If they have stage fright, no worries! He’s happy to still perform for them none the less.

Cuddles. Oh man this little saniwa is never going to be without physical affection. From Ichigo’s cuddles and head pats to the rest of the Toushirous just loving on the kid and random hugs outta nowhere, this kid is going to be so loved.

Ichigo can kinda cook? Not as good as like Kasen or Azuki or anything but he’ll at least make something edible. Probably some instant stuff from a box, more like it. He can decorate it super good though!

If the kid has nightmares, Ichigo is the first to wake up and comfort them. His bros have nightmares a lot and he’s a light sleeper anyway, so he can relate to that - and is always there for them!

Bedtime stories with morals and lessons? Of course! Duh! It’s a group storytime! All day every day!

Ichigo is the big brother everyone wants. The caring big bro who will take a bullet for you, and will probably have some choice words for the government. He cares for you as a parent would, and is just always there!

Horikawa Kunihiro

“Excuse me, has-”

“....”

“....Ah, a second child to take care of.”

Horikawa already has a child on his hands kane-san and he’s already pretty motherly so adopting a kid like this isn’t too out of his range. He’s a lot gentler with them than he is with Kane-san, but no less strict.

No he cannot trust Kane-san around this child. ONe time he left them alone and the kid was stuck in a tree and Kane-san had a broken leg trying to save the damn kid. He will only let them interact under his or another sword’s supervision. Can and will fight Kane-san just to protect this kid.

As Horikawa is good at cleaning, he always tends to the kid’s room and helps them wake up on time. He will most likely be the hawk mum, watching over them with every change he can get to ensure that they are doing their work on time.

He won’t spoil them as much as Ichigo or Azuki would, but he would praise them and reward them in his own way! Mostly with praise and a head pat and a forehead kiss if they’ve been extra good! Yes he’ll cook for them and give them treats but nothing super duper big.

The minute the saniwa calls him Hori-nii or something he will cry. Hell he’ll take being called mom. He doesn’t mind! He’s just happy that he can be there for them!

Oh dude Horikawa will spoil them not with food but with lil things! A flower from the forest, a lil trinket from the store as he passed by, so on and so forth! He knows his limits though.

Yes Horikawa will not hesitate to storm the government building and demand to see whoever the fuck is in charge. He wants to know who the fuck was responsible for this. This is a literal CHILD, where are their PARENTS. Who aLLOWED THIS? Horikawa is now this child’s mom.

He’s like that mom that panics whenever the kid goes missing for like one second. There’s a lot of dangerous things the kid could get into (see the tree incident) and if they get hurt, expect Horikawa to be at their side quicker than Hasebe. Hell he can beat Hasebe in speed and in over-protectiveness, dO NOT TEST THIS YOUNG MAN.

Is also that one mom that is at the kid’s recital, crying joyous tears of pride as they perform. Always has a camera on him to capture such a beautiful moment.

Yes Horikawa is the mom friend and he will not hesitate to become the mom to this saniwa. He will ensure that they go to bed on time and keep them healthy. Will wake them up on time and just be that one parent who is always a presence in their life, knowing when to back away but keeping in touch. Like having ya mum as ya best friend!!!

#touken ranbu #touken danshi #touken ranbu x reader #touken ranbu imagine #my writing #tkrb #tkrb x reader #tkrb imagine #azuki nagamitsu #azuki nagamitsu x reader #azuki nagamitsu imagine #ichigo hitofuri #ichigo hitofuri x reader #ichigo hitofuri imagine #horikawa kunihiro #horikawa kunihiro x reader #horikawa kunihiro imagine #https://toukenramblings.tumblr.com/tagged/Chaotic%20Citadel%20Correspondences #Chaotic Citadel Correspondences

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jennsmischievousmind · 4 years ago

Text

Fucks not Found

One, but not done [END]

Seven sighed as One disappeared when it was time to pack everything "Is he always like that or is he just being purposefully annoying?”

“How the fuck would I know?!” Three slammed a crate on the ground, holding his back like an old man.

“Who?” you were all packing the mission’s gear in the Haunted House.

“One,”

“Purposefully, no doubt!” you chuckled.

Later you knocked on his trailer door,

"Old man, we have to talk,"

"Let me guess, you want a bigger trailer so you and skater boy could go at it, not gonna happen,"

"Hum .. not exactly, look I know it's the first rule you told us about, and we broke it, actually 4 of us broke it. We're human One,"

He sighed "I just.. need you to be focus on the job."

"We are fo-.."

"Getting shot prove that you were focus," he threw his phone on the desk

"Alright you got a point,"

"These numbers are for your own safety," he stated angrily "but I guess now it's all fucked up."

"Not necessarily, I mean, now we all know each other better, we have better bonds,"

"Tell me about it," you smirked at his saying "... actually don't," he furrowed his eyebrows as you chuckled.

"Think about it," you pointed out as you were stepping out "this team, could do so much more,"

He nodded and something snapped.

"Hold on," he rummaged through a drawer to finally hand you a silver key, his eyes changed for a second “Might be cliché but he would have been proud.”

Smiling slightly at One, you left to open your brother's safe.

There were photographs, a few envelopes with the same cachet and a P/O box address on it.

One of the photographs, in black and white yellowed by the time showed your Mamma and Papa at your age in front of the Coliseum, looking happy as ever, the warmth of their smiled enveloping you instantly. Another one with your Mamma in swims wear gracefully sat on the sand, holding both of you. You were so tiny, wearing terrible hats and frowning at the sun. You found yourself laughing, a tear landing on the envelope’s corner behind the pictures.

Setting aside those pictures, you flicked the envelope open. Eyes scanning the document multiple times you were not sure what you were reading. Palm against your agape mouth, you read the main text.

“Dear Anonymous donator,

We would like to thank you for all these years of generosity. Your help has given access healthcare to people in dread need of it. With the help of caring people such as yourself, we have been able to afford the construction of a new volunteer centre, which will provide a facility to help maximize the amount of lives we can save.

Your last donation in date had us all profoundly touch and grateful.

We will never not be thankful enough. We wish we had a name to put on the facility’s wall. But we respect your privacy and so we’ll stop asking from now on.

All proceeds of your donations advance our lifesaving mission.

Thank you, dear anonymous donator.“

The tears blurred your vision until you couldn't see through it. He had found his anchor.

You cried, not of sadness but of proudness. For you he was still the kid throwing stones on the neighbor’s roof, the one who couldn’t sleep on stormy nights, the teen who cried when his crush rejected him. He was your anchor for years.

One paid you much more than you needed to live. You assumed now your brother had donated the payment. And all these years when he worked multiple jobs... it all became clear.

"You were the better twin, baby brother!" You mumbled to yourself.

Weeks later the Donations continued yet the anonymous donator had a found an alias.

Six

Passing by the pool you stopped once more before leaving the scorching desert until One would need you.

Weeks ago you brother was laughing at you on the other side of this very pool, these memories were gold now, they didn’t make you sad anymore, you grinned remembering him holding his chest while laughing on the ground, little fucker.

“Hey luv,”

“Hey,” he sat next to you on the edge of the empty pool

"So we're out?" His hand snaked around your waist bringing you closer.

"Not for now," you smiled thinking about this time spend with this weird squad, eager for a new operation.

“So where shall we go until next,”

“You're ready to stick with me? Are you mad?" He laughed as you touched his forehead for any kind of fever.

"Banged my head a few times yeah, but I'm pretty sure I'm mad...about you."

"God you spent to much time around One." He gently reached for your jaw turning your head to him, the blush creeping on your cheeks not helping to hide that you actually liked that he was ready to come with you anywhere, he leaned in for a quick kiss.

The warm air and sounds of busy streets of Italy passing through the ajar window woke you up. Looking at your watch on the bedside table you immediatly turn your back to it, snuggling back into Four's chest. Too early. The night was short.

"What do you say about Transylvania?" he mindlessly ran pattern on your back with his warm fingers.

"For what? Vampire retreat?"

"Hiking, but I can bite" feeling his teeth of soft spot on your neck you squirmed.

"Aouch, alright, we'll go to Transylvania tomorrow. I got to see my brother first."

He nodded, his smile sliding off.

"What?"

"I'm...I'm not really comfortable with...mourning," he played with your fingers on his chest avoiding your look "I ..uh.."

"Calm down babe," you straddled him, the sheet sliding down your bare body "I'm not asking you to come with me." You chuckled at his concerned face, and his lost of attention at the sight of your naked body.

He sighed, "You know he was like a brother to me..." you tilted your head watching him

"That would be weird.." you removed your hands from his

"shit no not a brother," he caught your hands putting them right back on his chest" a .. a best friend,"

"Stop talking," you leaned in, enclosing his lips with yours. His hands immediatly reached your tighs, you felt a shiver ran his chest as your finger brushed his skin from his throat to his navel. A firm squeezed on your thighs made you giggled, he was so easy to trigger.

He sat up, one of his arm tightly set around your low back while the other snake to your back, his hand holding the back your neck. A lovely mess of tangled limbs in silk sheet was all you were. You pushed him back on the bed, holding his hands up his head.

You nibbled on his earlobe, and chuckled when he groaned at the ministrations trying to fight your hold on him. He could easily removed himself from your grip, guess he wouldn't this time.

Finding your way down his neck, chest, navel ... taking your sweet time until you reach the point of no return. He gasped, his head lolling back on the pillow "God I love Italy,"

“Ciao brother” cross seating at the grave of his fake death, there were flowers already with a cup of mochaccino beside it, you laughed, only One person could have done that. Glancing at your own grave, you shivered at your name engraved in the marble stone.

You recall the all mission as if your twin was there listening to you, “This one is for you, and the next, and the next.” You breathe in feeling tears coming up, “I kept your cross," you scoffed, "you can thank Four for that. As long as I have it, I’ll have you, mammà and papa with me promise.” kissing the cross you left a single tear rolled down your face.

One knew how to be a ghost, perfectly, no one could trace him, anyone but you. .... The gps tracker in his watch helped. If he knew, he’d probably wouldn’t be happy, but hey he is your cash source can’t lose an eye on him.

“So, that’s your secret!” looking at the little boy in the playground whom looked like the man beside you.

“Shit! He jumped

“Hey,” you grinned leaning on the grid, sliding your shades down.

“Aren’t you supposed to be OUT of Italy?” he groaned

“It’s my homeland One, what’d you expect?” you pointed at your wig and shades “Disguise,”

“It’s always better than Three’s in Vegas,” He joked “You’re kicked out, it’s immediate,” He stated, not even believing it himself.

“Yeaaaah, I don’t think so,” you nudged his shoulder. A ghost of a grin appeared knowingly.

"Do you follow everyone, or are you my private stalker?"

"You really wanna know!?" You shifted on your two feet, he got the idea that everyone had a stalker in the name of Eight.

"Cleavers," you used his own line

"Shut up," he answered tired of your shit, resulting in you laughing a bit too loud.

Regaining a sense of calm you felt he was still uneasy about you seeing his son. “Your secret is safe with me old man,” He nodded a tight smile on his lips, and somehow he knew he could trust you.

“Haunted house, in a week.”

“Noted.” Saluting with two-fingers you took a few steps back still eyeing him with fondness, proudness, maybe not just a cash source in the end. He flicked you off, a bright smile spread on your face.

“Where’s Four by the way?” he called out

“Somewhere on the roofs, he can’t help it.”

He lifted his head, you took this time to disappear around the corner.

Calling Four you stumble upon his voicemail “Skater boy, you better bring down your cute ass. We’re heading back to the Haunted House in a week. Mission 2 is coming. Love ya!”

A week later

"Please don't,"

"One, I only hugged her for a second," you rolled your eyes. Five was still holding your shoulders.

"Tell me you're not going to freak out everytime two of us are close,"

Two had a grin on, Five was being clingy on purpose. It had been a month since you've seen everyone, except Four and One. You had missed everyone, Five especially, after the parkour lessons, the incident on the yacht you had become close friends.

"Hey squad," Four let his skate rolled until it hit a wall. He reached you kissing your cheek, then sending you a wink as he took a seat next to Three. You eyed One, holding a laugh, Five carefully removed her hands from around your arm. Four looked dumbfounded as One sighed, staring at you. He then flung his arms in the air.

"Fucking Millennials!"

Thanks to everyone who read, liked, commented on Fucks not Found. It was fun to write, let me know what could be improved, I'm still working on my english that's why everything is not perfect and quite limited. Looking forward a new story. Thanks again.

A/N: don't forget to double tap if you liked it. 🙏

#6 underground four x reader #jennfic #6 underground imagine #ben hardy #billy x reader #four imagine #four x reader #6 underground #ben hardy x reader

137 notes · View notes

teacherunicorn · 4 years ago

Text

Delores Theadosia Hargreeves

Chapter Fifteen

Italics = memories

@tomisbaeholland

A/N: I am aware of Elliot Page coming out as transgender and am fully supportive of it. With the future of his character still in the wind however, I will be using she/her pronouns for Vanya for my writings at least for the time being. If rumors are true and the character will be transitioning as well, I will wrap it into my story accordingly. For now, I'm just following the plot of season one.

Diego was one of two Hargreeves children left in the city, and was the first to arrive back at the manor. The place had always been too big for comfort, but it still seemed strange seeing it so empty.

Not for the first time, he wondered what Delores' life here had been like before they'd come into it.

Traditionally, boxing was a more serious sport. The kind that attracted harsher people, under the counter bets and the like. Then again, Delores Theadoisa Hargreeves had never been traditional.

She stood just outside the fighting ring jumping up and down, and waving a handmade sign over her head. "Go Diego! Boo everyone else!"

Diego's opponent of the night; a burly man with full sleeve tattoos, looked between him and the tiny blonde.

"Your girl's got a lotta faith in ya."

Diego smiled but didn't drop his guard. "Wouldn't wanna disappoint." he said before throwing a heavy right hook into the man's jaw.

“Diego my boy.” Pogo’s voice broke him from his memories. “Good to see you.”

“Hey Pogo.” Diego smiled and hugged the chimp. “Anyone else turn up yet?”

“You are the first, but I expect your siblings shall be along shortly.”

“Delores?”

“The news got to her rather late, but she assured me she’d be on the first available plane.” Pogo informed. “Till then, she’s tasked me with keeping the rest of you in line.”

Number Two laughed. “Yeah, good luck.”

******

Next to arrive was Alison. Getting the news about Reginald’s death via paparazzi hadn’t been pretty, and frankly if it hadn’t gone down that way she probably wouldn’t have come. She had enough of her plate as it was.

“Onward to desert!” Delores ran across the large backyard, a then one year old Claire ridding piggyback. Patrick, who had been manning the grill for the barbecue, laughed and held the package of oreos over their heads. He was taller than Delores, so even with Claire on her back they couldn’t reach them.

Things had been a lot simpler when ‘Gammy Lori’ could be called any hour of the day. Having raised seven kids, Delores was much more capable of dealing with Claire than Alison was. It was hard sometimes not to take advantage of that.

It was even harder to stand by the lessons Delores had taught her and not take the easy way out.

“I want Gammy Lori!” a three year old Claire whined.

“Gammy Lori is working sweetie. She’s in Pennsylvania.”

“Where’s that?”

“A really long way away.”

“Can we go get her?”

“No, we can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s busy.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s very smart and works with smart people.”

“Why?”

“I heard a rumor that you stopped whining.”

******

Klaus tumbled in through one of the back doors and was immediately skimming the place for valuables.

"Really?" Ben's spirit said over his shoulder. "Didn't you tell Dede you'd keep at least a two month period between troubles with the law?"

"Hey, it's not like the old man is around to report anything stolen anymore. "God knows DT isn't gonna miss any of it; she hates this gaudy shit."

Every remaining member of the Umbrella Academy had a key to Delores' condo in the city. As such, it wasn't uncommon for her to come home to find one of them on her couch.

It was usually Klaus.

Number Four groaned as he blinked back to consciousness. His blurry vision focused in on the figure sitting on the coffee table. "Oh, hey DT. How long have you been here?"

"Couple hours. I came to check if you were alive again. You've been kinda in and out." While she didn't approve of Klaus' drug habits, Delores was the only one -- apart from Ben -- who understood why he had them.

"I didn't say anything stupid, did I?"

"You don't need drugs for that, Klausy."

"She's right, you know." Ben chimed from where he leaned against the couch's armrest.

Klaus threw a glare at the spirit over his shoulder before turning back to his caretaker. "Sorry, shady asshole must've mixed something in with the product. It's usually not that heavy...."

"Haven't I told you stay away from those types?"

"Com'on DT, I am one of those types!"

"Those are the rock bottom types that end up in a ditch somewhere." Delores flicked him in the head, making him wince as she rattled his hangover.

"Thank you!" Ben exclaimed.

"The type that don't have their big sister to push them into rehab. Speaking of, didn't you just get out of it like a week ago?" She continued, unaware that Number Six was even there.

"Maybe...." Klaus muttered. "But I'm not really the cold turkey type; you know that."

"There has to be something better." Delores sighed. "If you would stick around for more than a few days sleeping off a bender, you and I could figure it out! I've been riddling out your powers since you were born."

"No." Klaus said firmly. "Alright, I may be a deadbeat addict, but you are the one person who I refuse to mooch off of."

"Klausy --"

"Klaus --"

"Non!" He cut off both of them. "It took you way to long to get out from under dad's ass. You've finally got a life for yourself! Majority rules; you were out voted. No more mother henning!"

*******

Having the furthest to travel, it wasn't surprising that Luther arrived late to the mansion.

He had been the last of the Umbrella Academy, chasing the heroics dream Reginald kept feeding him. He and Delores had gotten into more than one argument regarding this, but she had always been there when he really needed her, wether she was angry with him or not.

Unfortunately, he had been out voted and she had left too.

Logically he knew it was good for her. She sounded so much happier on the phone than she had living here. The stubborn part of him that believed in the Academy's roles however knew her place was with them, even if they weren't kids anymore.

Delores hadn't been informed of his mission gone awry; his near death experience, what had brought him back, and the side effects of it. Reginald had done something or another to keep that out of the media, and Luther himself certainly wasn't looking to tell her.

The real kicker had been the moon mission. Reginald had sprung it on him so suddenly that he hadn't had the chance to call Delores beforehand.

He stood hunched in the doorway of her old room, eyes drifting over the relics she had left behind. Since Delores traveled so much, she hadn't taken everything with her when she first left. The majority of her things were now in her condo in the city, but there were still a few dusty pictures on the walls.

Moving forward caused his fingers to brush against the scritches on the doorway. Carved into the wood with one of Diego's knives were a series of dashes and dates marking the life of the Umbrella Academy.

Luther strained to stretch as straight as he could, resisting the urge to get on his tiptoes. He'd tried sneaking that past Delores and she'd smacked his head with the ruler.

The flat of a blade cut into the wood behind him and he immediately jumped forward to see her scratching the day's date next to it with a practiced hand.

"So?" He asked eagerly.

"Hmm." Delores held the ruler between an older mark and the mark she'd just made. "One and a half inches."

"Yes! I'm still the tallest!"

"Second tallest." Delores said, leaning her elbow atop his head.

"I told you to stop doing that!" He swatted at her, taking a step back to be out of reach.

"But you make such a good armrest!"

"Just you wait Dee; some day I'm gonna be even taller than you and you'll be the armrest!"

"Whatever you say squirt."

*******

Hesitant to come at all, Vanya was the last of the siblings to walk through the front door.

Ever quiet as a mouse, she stepped into the entry hall in near silence. Her sister was less so however.

"Vanya." Alison said in surprise as she came through the doorway of the living room. "You came."

"Hey Allison." Vanya smiled and accepted the hug offered to her.

Her flicker of confidence evaporated when Diego walked through the room and glared at her. "What's she doing here? You don't belong here, not after what you did."

"Diego now is not the time for fighting. And way to dress for the occasion by the way!" Alison called to his retreating back.

"At least I'm wearing black!"

"H-He's right, I shouldn't be here..." Vanya shook her head, wondering why she'd bothered. It wasn't like Delores would leave the country again without coming to see her -- she was the only family member who was still talking to her after all.

"No, hey." Alison cut her off. "I want you here."

The smile Vanya gave her sister was small and somewhat forced. The sentiment was kind, but patronizing. Everyone had been mad at her after her book had been published; even Delores.

Vanya unlocked her apartment door and jumped out of her skin at the sight of Delores sitting on her couch. She shouldn't be surprised at this point really, the older woman had mad it a habit since she'd been given a key.

"You should have locks on your windows." the caretaker commented idly.

"I live on the second floor."

"Rapist can climb."

"You are so weird." Vanya shook her head as she locked the door behind her.

"Oh now that's a simpleton word. You got much more creative as I recall. What was it? Apathetic, obtuse, and desperate to keep control?"

"M-my editor didn't like me making you a good guy when everyone else --"

"Oh will get to everyone else; you had no right to say what you did about them either. Airing out the dirty laundry for all to see....I'm really disappointed in you, Vanya."

*******

Vanya was the last of the Hargreeves siblings to walk through the front door, but certainly not the last to arrive.

After a very tense conversation about their father's death -- Luther was convinced it was murder, and while he didn't accuse anyone outright it was clear he didn't put it past them.

Everyone had split off to different areas of the house, and Luther thumbed through the records on the shelf in his room. The group really didn't do well as a group without Delores, but maybe he could at least minimize the hostility while they waited for her.

Finding the one he was looking for, he set it onto the player and turned the volume up as high as it would go. Soon enough, Delores' favorite song was echoing through the manor halls.

I think we're alone now

There doesn't seem to be anyone around

I think we're alone now

Alone now

The beating of our hearts is the onl-

The music was cut off rather abruptly as the walls and floor began to shake. Everything metallic went flying, and a large wave of something was glowing a familiar blue color in the backyard.

#tua #tua imagine #tua fanfic #umbrella academy imagines #umbrella acedmy #ben hargreeves #deigo hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #number five imagine #five hargreeves

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acavatica · 4 years ago

Text

i-wakeupstrange said:

i’m not including this in my review of the elevator fic because it was becoming its own huge, ridiculous tangent, but in short: it’s now my headcanon that Marco is into anime (OF COURSE why didn’t I realize sooner) and in a roundabout way that’s Peter’s doing. (he’s a little old for NGE but, I think, about the right age to have gotten real into, say, Robotech. and decide to show his son these shows. because he’s a Cool Dad. or tried to be before... you know.)

Peter told himself that he was watching cartoons because of the baby, but also all the baby books he’d tried to force Eva to read had said that babies have about a foot of vision and see colors like a dog. Then he told himself that he was watching cartoons because the bright colors and laser sounds kept him awake. At least that wasn’t a complete lie.

The full truth was that he thought Robotech was cool. It was serialized, which was more than he could say for any American TV shows. It wasn’t as if Peter could read Dune with a baby in his arms no matter how much he wanted to, even if he’d missed the last two books and another was coming out later that year. And it wasn’t as if Peter could read Dune anyway since he was off Ritalin again, but that was neither here nor there. TV shows would catch up to book series eventually.

The fact that it had a story he could follow was just a bonus. The real draw of Robotech was that it aired in marathons in the middle of the night. That was a lot less likely to wake up his ten-week-old than changing his Doctor Who tapes every four episodes. Plus, he’d had to pay someone on USENET to ship the tapes all the way from Brighton. If he wore them out, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to find the guy ripping VHS tapes on net.tv.drwho again.

Eva’s alarm went off, muffled by the bedroom door. Peter closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the couch cushion. 5:30 already. He’d been letting her get most of the sleep to reimburse her for the whole pregnancy thing, but now that she was going back to work, he wouldn’t even have a choice.

He listened to her shuffle around the kitchen. He heard every step of her putting on a pot of coffee. Eva never did anything quietly, but it hadn’t taken him long to get used to it. After all, there was nothing more comforting than knowing his ever-so-slightly evil partner would at least never be able to sneak up on him.

He opened his eyes to catch her shaking out her still-rumpled hair and stretching out the crick in her back. He heard that too, from all the way across the room. Another thing Peter was repaying her for. She saw him watching and closed the distance between them. Eva draped her elbows over the back of the couch and touched her cheek to Peter’s head. Peter took a deep breath, and he smelled her shampoo and the coffee and their new baby.

Putting his PhD on hold was worth it.

Eva cocked her head to the side, rolling her chin over Peter’s forehead. “Wow, look at her hair. Japan really has progressive ideas about the meaning of ‘spiral curls.’” She walked around to the front of the couch, plopped down, and held out her arms. “Hand him over.”

Marco started whining almost immediately.

“I’m surprised you know it’s Japanimation.”

Eva rolled her eyes. “We had Japanese cartoons in Mexico. And actually, the acting was way better than this.”

“Yeah, but were there giant fighting robots?”

“I dunno, this shit is for nerds.” Marco was still fussing in her arms, but she was looking down at him like she understood where he was coming from. “You’re gonna make our kid a nerd, aren’t you?”

Peter smiled. “I don’t know what you expected when you decided to have a baby with me.”

“Feh, yeah, ‘decided.’” Eva stretched her leg out and gave Peter’s knee a good nudge.

She pulled her leg back, crossed her ankles, and cradled Marco with her whole body. All three of them fell quiet, and Minmay sang Marco back to sleep.

⁠—⁠—⁠—

Marco was born whining, and after four years, he still only stopped when he was asleep.

“Why do I have to do daycare?”

“You asked to watch Voltron. It’s the fifth time we’ve watched Voltron. Please watch Voltron.”

Marco bobbed his head back and forth as he quoted the onscreen conversation between Queen Merla and King Zarkon: “The chamber is full of quarks. ⁠— Quirks? ⁠— No, quarks. You see, everything is made of atoms, and all atoms are made of quarks. ⁠— Hm, nice, but how does it work? ⁠— Well, there are six kinds of quarks: up, down, top, bottom, strange. And my favorite kind, charmed.”

“Well. At least we can be sure you’re my kid. And Eva’s. And of why I like this show.”

“If you like it, don’t complain.”

Peter ran his hand over his hair and tried to ignore how thin it was getting. “Definitely Eva’s kid…”

Marco rolled over closer to Peter and looked up at him pleadingly. “Whyyy do I have to do daycare?”

“Because,” Peter said reluctantly. “I finally finished school, and it was really hard, but I got a cool job out of it.”

Marco’s eyes basically tripled in size, and he poked out his lower lip. Definitely, 100% for sure, Eva’s kid. “But I’ll miss you.”

Peter sighed. “I’ll miss you too. But you’re starting school in the fall anyway, so think of it like practice.”

Marco crossed his arms and turned his eyes back to the TV. He stayed quiet for maybe a minute, long enough for the pilots to form Voltron. Without taking his eyes off the TV, he said, “What if they don’t know how to microwave Spaghetti-Os?”

“If there’s any lesson you have to learn, it’s that sometimes you have to settle for Spaghetti-Os that aren’t made by Chef Boyardee Champion of the World, Your Dad.”

“Spaghetti-Os aren’t even Chef Boyardee,” Marco mumbled.

Peter reached his leg over and nudged Marco’s knee with his foot. “Don’t you want to be brave like Lance?”

Marco pushed Peter’s foot away, crossed his arms again, and sank into the couch. “No. I wanna be diablo-lolical like Prince Lotor.”

“Well, Prince Lotor doesn’t even need his dad.”

Marco glanced over at Peter, and Peter grinned. Marco sank even further into the couch until his feet almost touched the floor.

⁠—⁠—⁠—

The bluish glow of the TV cast long shadows across the room. There wasn’t much contrast because it was a pretty dark movie, but Marco was still illuminated against the dull, colorless room. The volume was only one notch above mute, but he was sitting on his knees, so close to the TV that he could almost make out every word. It’s not like the sound would have bothered his dad, even if he turned it all the way up. Marco kept it low so he could still hear Peter breathing, and even acknowledging that feeling ate away his insides.

It had been a whole year, and for a while Marco had tried not to think about how he was the only thing keeping his dad alive, in more ways than one. It got harder the longer Peter didn’t get better. Marco didn’t even have cable to distract himself from his messed up life. He just had the same old VHS tapes, and they’d had to donate a bunch of them to Goodwill when they’d moved.

The box was still there, still packed and next to the TV, labeled in Marco’s sloppy kid handwriting. Peter hadn’t helped with the move⁠—it had mostly been Jake’s family and his mom’s relatives he’d never met and would probably never see again. Marco could still see his hands pulling the tapes off the shelves, sorting them, reading the labels in Peter’s sloppy grownup handwriting, and not being able to bear to throw away the memories of sitting between his mom and dad with popcorn in his lap, even if he might never be able to watch those tapes again.

There were only a few tapes scattered around the plastic milk crate the TV sat on. The rest were still in the box. Marco had gone through them dozens of times, and he was still limited to the few tapes he didn’t associate with a time when he had a family.

He’d never watched Ghost in the Shell with his dad. That was probably a good thing, because there was a lot of nudity, and that was always awkward. There was also some gore, which Peter knew gave Marco nightmares, even if he pretended not to be scared. Marco had played the movie in front of Peter dozens of times anyway, but his eyes didn’t track it, and he didn’t tell Marco that he should turn it off, he was too young to see all these nipples.

Marco turned around, blinded from sitting so close to the TV. He didn’t need to see his dad. He knew he was curled in on himself, his face buried in the place where the back of the couch met the seat and the arm. There was no way to know if he was asleep or awake, and Marco wasn’t even sure those words had meaning in Peter’s life anymore.

“Hey Dad,” Marco said, his voice creaky, either from disuse, disgust, or some other kind of emotion. “What do you think about the whole brains jacking into the internet thing? Realistic? It seems like the kind of thing you’d have worked on.” Marco listened to Peter’s breathing. It never changed. Marco could say anything. “You know. When you worked.”

Marco turned away, back to the TV. He pressed Stop, and the tape clicked off, flooding the room with light so bright and blue, it hurt his eyes. He pressed rewind and the whir of the tape drowned out Peter’s breathing. It was crazy, but as the VCR started to grind to the end of the tape, Marco was suddenly, irrationally, completely sure that when the tape stopped rolling, the room would be totally silent. His body flashed hot and then cold and his pulse pounded painfully in his temples.

The tape clicked off. Marco held his breath.

Peter breathed in. Out. In. Out.

Marco pressed play, turned the volume up a few more notches, and got to his feet. As he passed, he shoved his dad’s leg with his foot. He stood over him, waiting like he expected some kind of reaction. The TV lit up his motionless body in green, gray, white. The cyborg pulled the cables out of her neck and stood.

“If only someone would ghost hack you.”

Marco went into his bedroom⁠—the only bedroom⁠—and slammed the door.

⁠—⁠—⁠—

Marco’s back was flat against the dirt floor of the scoop, his head resting on his folded arms. His right leg was draped over Ax’s back and he’d slowly tangled his left leg up in Ax’s tail. Ax didn’t like that, and he knew Ax didn’t like it, and that’s why he’d taken it slow. He’d started by sticking his leg under Ax’s tail. He’d waited a couple weeks, and then he’d surreptitiously make a loop over the course of an hour. Now, after like a month of acclimating him, Ax’s tail was wrapped around Marco’s leg like a boa constrictor, and maybe Ax didn’t even notice.

He definitely noticed. Marco had just pulled off an incredible feat of exposure therapy. Ax just wasn’t allergic to how annoying Marco was anymore. Too bad the allergy was familial, and it was harder to wallow a hawk into submission.

<You’re not even watching,> Tobias complained.

Marco lolled his head to the side and pointed his eyes at the TV. “Why are you making me read TV, Tobias? The point of TV is to not have to read.”

<Subtitles are more authentic,> Tobias said, his voice dripping with condescension.

“But what about Ax? Poor Ax can’t read at all.”

<I can read,> Ax said, his voice a mixture of defensive and arrogant. <And even if I couldn’t, my translator chip has no trouble processing Japanese.> Snobbiness ran in their family too.

“I’m just saying, I’d be able to pay more attention if I could understand the words and look at the pictures at the same time. You know, how it’s intended to be consumed?”

<It’s intended to be consumed in Japanese.>

Marco rolled his eyes and sighed. It was the obnoxious kind of sigh, the voiced kind that’s practically a groan. “It’s just robots, dude, it’s not that serious.”

<Neon Genesis Evangelion is art, Marco,> Tobias said, ratcheting the pretension up to eleven. <It’s an exploration of how humanity would develop, given exposure to advanced alien technology in the face of an oncoming alien threat. And the only thing protecting humanity from annihilation is some teenagers with special powers. It’s like, relatable.>

“Wow,” Marco said sarcastically. “Never seen anything like that before.” That was basically the plot of Robotech mixed with Voltron, but boring.

Marco sat up on his elbows and narrowed his eyes. Ax tightened his tail ever so slightly around Marco’s leg, like he was trying to hold him back. Marco pulled his leg free. “That’s pretty funny, since how could you even have watched so much subbed anime when no one cared enough about you to buy you decent clothes or new shoes or Clearasil? Let alone to go out of their way to buy you anime, subtitled specifically, the way it’s intended, of course.”

Tobias stared at him. Ax stared at him. Hell, Shinji Ikari stared at him.

Marco couldn’t take even a minute of it. “Say something.”

Tobias opened his wings, fluttered to the edge of the scoop entrance, and flew away.

Ax was still looking at him with all four eyes. Marco squirmed, but he pressed his lips into a line and didn’t break eye contact.

<That was too far,> Ax said finally, his voice more gentle than Marco deserved. <Why did you react so forcefully?>

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Marco leaned around Ax, grabbed the remote, and changed the audio to English. “Let’s just watch this dumb robot show.”

#animorphs #axmarco #my fic #IS marco into anime?#cav answers asks

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snarkythewoecrow · 4 years ago

Note

prompt! peter is getting bullied in school/around town/etc. and tries to brush it off as no big deal. he’s spiderman, isn’t he? he doesn’t wanna admit that it hurts his feelings and crushes his spirit. he’s gotten shot before, for crying out loud! and despite his desperate attempts to ignore it, it begins to wear him down. and down and down and down until one hang-out-with-tony day, he cracks. spidertears and irondad panic ensues.

AN: This isn’t exactly what you asked for, but I tried. It turned out, that I wrote it from an outsider POV, so we get to see Irondad through someone else’s eyes.

Warning: May is dead in this. Sorry.

Read on AO3

Roger Harrington cared about all his students, he’d had many who stood out over the years, but none ever burned as bright as Peter Parker. The boy was a genius, and Roger had to continually change things up just to challenge him. When half the world vanished, and Peter went with it, the world was a little darker for his loss. Thankfully, the heroes saved the day, Iron Man nearly dying to stop Thanos, and slowly, the world rebuilt.

It had been months since the children had returned to school, including Peter, but much to Roger’s dismay, he learned that Peter’s aunt, May Parker, had reappeared in traffic and died before Peter got the chance to see her. Stories like that were common in the news right after the vanished were returned. Roger wasn’t sure who had stepped in to take care of Peter, but rumor had it that it had been a distant relative.

Peter didn’t smile as much as he used to, and Roger couldn’t blame him. When he challenged him with work, he barely reached the bar. His studies started to slip, his grades falling. The brightest, happiest kid in the class had become withdrawn and anxious, making him a perfect target for bullies, Flash Thompson being the worst of them all.

Roger tried to intervene where he could, but he knew he was missing much of the abuse. And Flash wasn’t the only one. A few other students had taken to ribbing him about his internship with Stark Industries, something Roger had seen the paperwork for but was a little hard-pressed to believe himself.

He’d seen stranger things, though, and if telling people he had an internship helped Peter cope, who was Roger to say otherwise. He just wished there was more he could do for the boy.

The class was nearly over, the kids were paired off, working on their presentations, and Roger couldn’t help but let his gaze drift over the students and fall on Peter and his friend Ned. They were two peas in a pod. Flash didn’t seem to notice Roger watching as he leaned toward Peter with a grin and whispered something too low for Roger to hear. Whatever it was, it made Peter frown, and Ned shoved Flash’s shoulder. Roger pretended he didn’t see that. As far as he was concerned, Flash probably deserved more than a shove. He’d been riding Peter hard lately, harder than usual since he’d rejoined the decathlon team, and in doing so, pushing Flash back to alternate.

The rest of the class went quietly, and once the bell rang, the students packed up and filed out of the room. Peter was one of the last to the door, and Roger stopped him by calling after him.

“Peter, can you hang back a moment?”

Peter frowned, looked to Ned, then told his friend not to wait. With his bag slung over his shoulder, he walked over to the desk where Roger was perched on the edge.

“How are you doing, Peter?”

Peter shrugged. “Good, I guess. Nothing special going on. Am I in trouble for something?”

Roger shook his head with a smile and then pushed up his glasses. “Nothing like that. I just wanted to talk to you. I’ve noticed things between you and Flash are tense. Anything you want to say about that? Remember, you’re not in trouble.”

Peter’s frown deepened, and he scuffed his shoe against the floor. “Everything’s fine. Flash is great.”

Roger crossed his arms over his chest, then rubbed his chin. “I know what he’s doing, Peter. I might not have heard everything he’s said or seen everything he’s done, but I know a bully when I see one. My question for you is, why haven’t you come to me before? There are things I can do to help, but I can’t fix what I don’t know about.”

Peter shrugged again, looking at his shoes. “It’s really nothing. Can I go now?”

“Actually, I’d like to have a meeting with you and your guardian. The sooner, the better. Maybe even after school today if that works. I think we need to all get on the same page.”

Peter’s startled, looking up at Roger with wide eyes. “I—can’t we just forget about this? It’s not a big deal.”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I’ll call the office and have them contact them. Once I know when the meeting is, I’ll make sure it’s passed onto you.”

Peter’s shoulders curled forward, and he nodded his head, his hair falling into his eyes. “Thanks, Mr. Harrington. Can I go now?”

“Yes, I’ll see you later. Hopefully, this afternoon.”

XXX

During his last class of the day, the office called and told him that they’d contacted Peter’s guardian and that they’d be there at three-thirty to meet with him. Roger had thanked them, then finished up his lesson as he thought over the points he wanted to discuss. Peter’s grades were slipping, for one thing, Flash’s bullying was another, and Peter’s refusal to report the bullying was another problem by itself.

It was like his light had been dimmed. He didn’t stand up for himself anymore. He didn’t laugh things off as quickly had he had in the past. Instead, he just absorbed whatever negativity was sent in his direction. Roger wondered how much of it was related to the loss of his aunt. Peter had been made an orphan twice over, losing two sets of parental figures before adulthood. That wasn’t easy for anyone.

Three o’clock came around, and Roger set up two chairs in front of his desk. It made it a little more comfortable for everyone, rather than Peter and his guardian sitting at the student desks.

Roger watched the clock, feeling nervous. It was never easy to meet with parents. You never knew what to expect. Sometimes they blamed themselves; other times, they took their frustrations out on the staff. It was always a crapshoot. He just hoped that whoever would be coming along with Peter today cared about the boy. Like so many, he had been through so much. He had the potential to do so much good if he could just find something to fight for.

At three-thirty sharp, there was a knock at his classroom door. Roger stood, calling for them to come in.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when the door opened. It didn’t make any sense, not in any way. The man who walked into the room was none other than the hero Tony Stark. The scars from the famous battle still stood out brightly against his face and neck, but it didn’t detract from his powerful presence. Roger was pretty sure he’d forgotten to breathe for a moment as his brain tried to catch up.

Mr. Stark gave him a half-smile and patted Peter on the shoulder, pulling the boy into his side. Peter fell against him, pressing his face to the older man’s side. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there. In fact, he looked even more anxious than usual. His eyes were a little red like he might have been crying before coming in, and Roger couldn’t help but wonder what might have been said between the two.

The older man kept an arm around Peter’s shoulders and guided him into the room.

Roger cleared his throat and motioned to the chairs he’d set up beforehand. “Welcome, Mr. Stark, is it? I didn’t realize—”

“We didn’t want it known, for obvious reasons, so if you could limit who you tell, that would be appreciated.”

“Of course.” Roger blinked, taking a seat after Peter and Mr. Stark each sat. “My name’s Roger Harrington. I’m Peter’s science teacher and advisor.”

“You can call me Tony. It’s nice to meet you. So, I’ll preface this by saying I tried talking to Peter, but he wouldn’t tell me what this was about, but I’m hesitant to believe him that it’s nothing like he insists, not with how he begged me not to come.”

Roger sighed, folding his hands together on the desk. He looked at the other man. “Grades haven’t been posted for this quarter, so you wouldn’t have seen, but there is a trend I’m seeing. Peter seems to be struggling, and I don’t think it has anything to do with his grasp of the material.”

Mr. Stark looked at Peter. “Kid?”

Peter kept his gaze on his lap and shrugged a shoulder.

Mr. Stark sighed, looking back to Roger. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas?”

“There’s been some bullying going on. I’ve reprimanded the parties involved as much as possible, but Peter refuses to report it, which ties my hands. If I don’t see it—”

“You can stop it.” Mr. Stark pinched the bridge of his nose. He dropped his hand and met Roger’s gaze. “What do we do here?”

“That’s why I called this meeting. I want us to all talk and maybe get to the root of why Peter doesn’t feel he deserves better. Because part of me thinks that’s what it is. I’ve seen him in class. Before the Blip, he would laugh it off, but now he takes it in. I don’t like this turn of events, coupled with his dropping grades, I’m worried.”

Peter’s shoulders were turned in, and his hands were twisting in his lap. Mr. Stark turned in his chair and ducked his head to try to meet Peter’s eyes.

“Hey, hey, kid, look at me,” the man tried, and after a second, Peter lifted his head. His eyes were glossy with tears, and he sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Gross, I’m sure if you asked, your teacher could spare a tissue.”

Roger snapped to it, reaching for the box of Kleenex and passing a tissue to Peter, who took it reluctantly. He blew his nose. The poor boy seemed miserable. Mr. Stark leaned forward and brushed Peter’s bangs out of his eyes. The touch was something he’d expect to see from a parent, and it reassured Roger that the other man wasn’t just there for show.

“Why didn’t you say something, Pete? Tell me what’s going on in that big brain of yours. Is this internship related or you know?”

Roger was pretty sure the death of his aunt was what was going unsaid. It didn’t seem like an internship could be the cause. He wondered why the man had even suggested such a ridiculous thing.

“It’s not the internship—the internship is great.”

Mr. Stark sighed. “Your aunt wouldn’t want to see you like this, you know. She’d want you happy. She’d want to see you do well, not shutting down. I blame myself for this, Pete. I should’ve seen you weren’t okay. It shouldn’t have gotten this far. But what I don’t know is why you’re not standing up for yourself? You’re better than letting some kid shit all over you.”

Roger raised a brow at the language but otherwise didn’t remark.

Peter shrugged again, dropping his gaze back to his hands. “Because they’re right. I’m an orphan. I get everyone close to me killed. I’m worse than bad luck..”

“Ahh, Kid. No. None of this, any of this, is your fault. You don't deserve the shitty hand you got dealt, and you sure as hell didn’t bring it on yourself. You’re not bad luck. I’d say if anything, you’re pretty damn good luck. Look at all you’ve accomplished with your internship.”

Roger frowned, looking between them. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “You’ve got some great friends, too, Peter. They’re lucky to have you. You’re a good kid, internship or not.”

Peter wrapped an arm around himself and nodded his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. There was a lot left to unpack, Roger could tell, but he knew it was past his pay grade. Peter was struggling, and maybe talking it all out with someone would be the best course of action.

“I can recommend some councilors, Mr. Stark. I think it could help Peter to see someone. He’s got a lot on his plate.”

“It’s Tony, and I have some numbers already, but thanks. If that’s everything, I’m gonna get Peter home.”

“Yes, yes, I think that’s it. If you need anything, please contact me. Peter’s a special kid. I want to see him succeed.”

Mr. Stark extended his hand, and Roger shook it. Then he watched as the man bent and pressed a kiss to the side of Peter’s head and whispered something in his ear. The boy nodded and then got up. Mr. Stark put an arm around him again and walked him out of the room, leaving Roger feeling more secure than he had before the meeting. The affection the two shared had been real and honest, it was love, and Roger knew that Peter was in good hands.

#irondad #peter parker #tony stark #spiderman #mcu #snark writes

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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years ago

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Hello. Thoughts on Dads!Harringrove??? the boys like in their mid 40s with 3 kids. what type of parents do you think they’ll be??? will their grandpa jim spoil them??? i love harringrove parents w all my heart. they both deserve a big happy family of their own 🥰

Hello, my thoughts are it’s the cutest damn thing ever and i could cry just thinking about it aUGH HARRINGROVE DADS.

Okay, so i’ve read quite a few things talking about the Harringrove Dads and adopting little babies, adopting sweet little girls, etc. and i absolutely live and die for that shit. Like i’m so serious, i think it’s so sweet, it warms my heart, i eat it up, i LOVE it

But also (and i’m sure i’m not the first to say it) I feel like they’re NOT the type to go adopting babies. They’re not getting a surrogate to raise a kid from infancy. They may want to, they may have that inkling, they may see Jonathan and Nancy having a baby and get that infamous Baby Fever, but I just… I really can’t bring myself to write that.

Bc (in my canon) Billy was adopted as a 17 year old delinquent. El was adopted as a 12 year old lab rat. Steve was basically abandoned at home when he got too old to be the “cute little boy” their parents could tote around to promote their Nuclear Family image. They’re two boys who were made very keenly aware that there are shitty people out there who believe kids get less desirable the older they get. Shitty people who think babies are worth more than older kids who probably just come with “problems”.

(i’ve also been rewatching Boy Meets World and GUYS. i see a lot of Billy in Shawn Hunter. Boy who’s taken in bc he’s been neglected and he’s a sensitive kid underneath but he’s got this hard, bad boy shell bc it’s easier than crying every day)(AUGH and just like Will in Fresh Prince goddamnit i fucking LIVE for those kids who think and act all tough and use their pretty looks like a weapon but all they really need is a caring and stern hand who’s gonna keep them on the straight and narrow and help them out along the way i am SOFT.)

So if these boys have 3 kids, it’s 3 kids who were seen as the “worst” of the bunch. 3 kids they fought to connect with bc these kids didn’t see anything in themselves anymore but goddamnit, Steve and Billy saw 3 kids beat and broken by the system that told them the older they got, the smaller their chances were of ever getting out of this place. They came with problems and fears and shells harder than Billy’s steel toed boots but like hell were Billy and Steve going to let these kids go the rest of their lives thinking they were damaged goods.

(god now i wanna write OCs of their children. look what you did to me!)

Okay so their parenting style changes as they grow and adopt more kids, as what happens with most parents. They learn what’s good and what’s not so good and they get better at fixing problems (but of course it’s never quite that easy bc they’re adopting kids of different ages).

And of course i’m saying they adopt the kids everyone has turned away, but for their first kid they adopt a little boy, about 5 years old, bc they gotta start small. He’s very cute and has a bit of a lisp and he mixes up some of his letters and he’s… energetic. He runs and he screams and he tires himself out real quick to the point where he just flops down and takes naps where he is, meaning there has been more than one occasion where Billy or Steve has found the child sleeping face first in the middle of a room (the entry room seems to be his favorite. Billy doesn’t blame him, the carpet is softer there than anywhere else.) One time he even flopped down on the middle of the sidewalk and again in the middle of a department store. Both times Billy scooped him up like a rag doll and carried him around the rest of their trip out.

And i know it’s not the BEST movie but i can’t help but think their parenting at the beginning would be a bit like the movie Big Daddy. Like, a lot of well-intentioned but misguided advice, a lot of “real world” lessons (like how to piss on the side of the road), a lot of hurried and frazzled solutions to things because “kids are messy why are kids so fucking messy why can’t he ever stay clean?”

“He’s just a kid, Steve, c’mon-”

“He’s always sticky! How! How is he always sticky? What’s making him so sticky!”

And I just!! Augh!! Imagine Steve at work all day and Billy has off/maybe he’s inbetween jobs right now so he can be home with the kid/whatever and so he has errands to run and takes their little kid with him and the kid’s like:

“What’s your real name?”

“You know that. It’s Billy.”

“…. why?”

And Billy shrugs with an “I dunno, cuz I couldn’t talk and my parents could and they had to call me somethin.”

“You could’n talk?”

“Hey, you couldn’t either.”

The boy thinks for a second before: “Could too.”

“Could not. Not when you were a baby.” He pokes the boy in the shoulder, still very tentative with how much the little tike can take. “Don’t start attacking me! You didn’t name yourself.”

They walk for a second but Billy chimes in before the kid can.

“Hey, that’s not fair though, is it?”

The boy looks up and shakes his head, but he can see the confusion in his eyes.

“You should be able to name yourself, right? What do you want your name to be? Anything in the world, what do you want me to call you?”

Which is how Steve comes home to their child and Billy eating some baby carrots smothered in BBQ sauce and his husband telling him: “By the way, the kid’s new name is Hot Dog.”

“…. what?”

“He picked it out himself.”

And just imagine Billy and the kid are going grocery shopping and Billy catches the boy reaching for a can of spaghetti-o’s.

Billy reaches for the can and takes it off the shelf. “You like these?”

The kid nods.

“Alright then. Watch out-” he hold the kid back gently before chucking the can at the ground. He turns to his boy. “Dented cans are half off. Y’know, Microsoft dropped 3 points.”

His kid nods in awe.

“Wanna pick that up for me?” Billy asks and the kid follows, before rearing the can back to throw it on the ground.

“Woah woah woah! Watch it there!” Billy grabs the boy’s arm, before aiming it a different way. “Aim away from your feet… there ya go. I know they’re kinda tiny targets but still, don’t wanna give yourself a flat tire there.”

The kid chucks it and Billy laughs. “Nice job, little dude.”

And i just have so many THOUGHTS about this!!! Their second kid being a little 9 year old girl who’s real fucking good at boxing and fighting and also a little too good at sneaking out the window. They’ve caught her a few times in the backyard or the front yard, just sitting around shivering. It always gives Billy and Steve a heart attack.

“What are you doing out here?” Steve asks, kneeling down to look at the girl, Billy taking note of her hands balled up into little fists.

“I heard a… noise. A loud noise.”

“Oh, yeah, your brother just dropped a glass.”

“Oh. Did you… did you… hurt him?” Her fists clench tighter, her shoulders get tighter, closer to her ears. Billy sees himself in it. He wants to ease her shoulders down out of her ears.

“No! No of course we didn’t.” Steve soothes, rubbing the girls arms soothingly. She looks skeptical.

But it becomes a pattern, and they realize it’s whenever she thinks something is going on or someone is in danger. To the point where if any loud noise happens, one of them rushes outside to look for Jordan climbing out a window.

Steve’s out there this time, grabbing hold of her middle and helping her out of the window because they’ve let their plants grow a little wiley and she was having a hard time getting past them. He sets her down gently.

“It’s fine, hun. You’re fine. Your dad just dropped a pan.”

“Oh…”

“Y’know, you can’t keep doing this.”

“What?”

“Ditching out the window like this.” He kneels down to look at her. “It’s not safe. And one of these days it’s gonna be snowing and you’re gonna jump out in your PJs and be all cold.”

“I’ve done it before.”

And if that doesn’t break Steve’s heart. He thinks about Billy when he was a kid. About the stories Billy has told him when he’s tired and a little drunk and feeling a little emotional. Steve loses himself in the sadness of the thought for a second.

He brushes a little bit of dirt off her shoulder.

“Yeah… well you don’t have to ever again, alright? I mean it. Nothing is happening to you here. We’re not gonna hurt you… Now give me a hug.”

She accepts it, which is big for her, and Steve squeezes her as tight as he squeezed Billy that one night he found him with a cut on his cheek and bruises all up and down his arms.

And then they adopt another boy. A 17 year old boy. A boy who’s been in and out of so many homes he doesn’t have a number for it. A boy who’s angry and jaded and… loves poetry and is so gentle with children and animals.

And him and Billy butt heads… a lot. They’re so similar… at least he’s similar to what Billy used to be. And it pisses them both off bc suddenly Billy knows what Hop felt- frustration. Utter frustration at this boy not understanding his fucking potential.

And i’ve written a whole dialogue for this but it’s long and very dramatic and I might just end up writing a fic about all of these little sweethearts (bc i have so many ideas!!!) but basically the boy telling Billy and Steve that he’s fucked up. He’s fucked up and no one will ever be able to change that and Billy is adamant that he’s not until he admits-

“No. You’re right, you are fucked up.”

Steve is shocked. “Billy!”

“No, shut up Steve.” Billy points at the kid. “You are fucked up. You’re a fucked up kid, and you know what? I’m fucked up too. And so is Steve. And so is your aunt El, and your Aunt Max, and your Uncle Will and Uncle Jonathan. And y’know what else? Your grandpa Jim is fucked up too. Hell, even your Grandma Joyce is fucked up. Wish I could tell you she’s not but ding ding ding! She is!”

And they get in a fight. There’s no fists, no touching, but it’s a major fight of Billy telling this boy what Hop told him once: You’re our kid now and we love you. And you can leave and never think about us again but we’re never gonna forget you.

And: “Don’t you dare fucking compare us to those assholes because I’m not giving up on you. We’re not giving up on you. You’re family now and no matter what you do, I’m gonna be there to worry about you and be happy for you because you deserve it!”

And Billy gets frustrated with all of his yelling so he grabs his stress ball and walks away, breathing heavy, and Steve is there to look the boy in the eye and tell him Billy’s right. And that he understands that the boy has a past before they ever met him “but Billy had a life before he met me… and same with me and him, and we can still love each other. So maybe we’re just on an even playing field. We get to learn about you while you learn about us and… and even so, we can still love each other, right?”

AUGH I’M SOFT. ANYWAY.

Hop and Joyce spoil them fucking rotten. It’s really hard to spoil a 17 year old boy as stubborn as an ox (“You were bad enough, now you bring me another one?” “You saying you didn’t like taking care of me, Pops?” “I’m saying I have enough gray hair as it is.” “Oh shush, Hop!” Joyce hits him) but they do their best. They give him love and support. Joyce bakes a shitton of cookies and cakes and Hop buys the kids toys (and the older boy CDs and records and band tees)(“I’m trying! The older I get, the less I know what kids what.”)

And they love all their aunts and uncles too! The little girl has a hard time reading and she reads way below her level, so Aunt El helps her out!

“I understand. I learned to read really late.”

“Really?” The girl’s heart lifts a bit. “How late?”

“I was twelve.”

“Really??”

El nods and gives a kind smile. “Yeah, but I learned, didn’t I? I had a lot of help, and I can help you, too! Just like your dad helped me.”

The girl smiles brightly.

Will’s favorite is the youngest boy (but he would never tell the other two that. Of course not.) because he’s silly and he took to Will almost instantly and he likes to roll around in the grass and catch bugs and those were never really things Will liked as a kid and he… he likes that. He didn’t think he’d ever like that but there’s something about this kid that brings out adventure in him. He reminds Will of Mike when they first met. A bundle of energy and excitement that always dragged Will around on adventures.

The older one hangs out a lot with Max and Jonathan. Jonathan likes hanging out with the kid cuz he reminds him of Billy when Billy was young. (“I don’t remember you being this… exhausting though.” Jonathan tells Billy.) (“You’re just getting old, bud.” Billy says with a laugh and a clap on the back) They smoke weed whenever they can and Jonathan gives the boy some good old 70’s and 80’s music to listen to and tells the boy “Meatloaf is not the best of our decade, don’t listen to your father. Either of them, honestly. Their music taste is shit.”

Max hangs out with the older one too. She gives him advice about girls and how to talk to them and she picks up a skateboard for the first time in years because of him. They go to the skate park sometimes and everyone there is amazed that a twenty something year old girl is here to skate with them until she skates circles around them. (She becomes the hit of the skate park)

She also wrestles around with the little 8 year old girl sometimes! She has a lot of heart to hearts with the kid, giving her advice as well and telling her silly stories of both Billy and Steve so that the girl learns to trust them more.

And overall they’re a big, loving family!! And they’re slightly dysfunctional too and i just! Can’t see it happening any other way!! Bc they’re a little dysfunctional but they’re dysfunctional with LOVE and isn’t that what matters???? It’s a lot of work and a lot of sweat and a lot of tears but it’s their family and in the end their kids love them to death bc they realize their fathers love them to death and!!! Everyone’s heart is full and happy and i’m crying!

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stark-tony · 5 years ago

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irondad and spiderson ft biological son au fic recs part 2

* = incomplete

Close To The Ground series* by boo_boo_thefool

summary:

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

I'll Dedicate Everyday to You series* by sluttytonystark

summary:

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Every Breath of Me series* by doctornineandthreequarters

summary:

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

i promise you kid that i give so much more than i get series* by geralt_of_rivia

summary: Just short little ficlets of single dad Tony and his son Peter. No chronological order to these or anything - some will be before Tony is Iron Man TM and some will be after, all depending on his and Pete’s age in the fics of course. If you want to make a request, feel free to shoot me one here!

pairings: none

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

his greatest creation series* by peterstank

summary:

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

5 times Tony showed off Peter, and 1 time Peter showed him off by Webtrinsic

summary: Tony loves to show off his son.

pairings: none

tags:

warnings: none

The life of Peter Stark* by Malya

summary: Peter Stark's life seen through the media.

(Taking a break due to college)

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Radioactive by Emily_F6

summary: Things haven't always been great between Tony Stark and his son. He wasn't ready to become a father...didn't even know he had a son until the boy's mother died. Over time, though, he thought he got the hang of it. But that was before his son went on a field trip to Oscorop and was seemingly left fighting for his life. *Written for Iron Dad Big Bang*

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Kangaroo Care by TonyStarkissist

summary: “It is commonly referred to as ‘Kangaroo Care’, sir. The skin-to-skin contact is proven to enhance a child's immune system, calm its heart rate, and increase familial bond between parent and child.”

Irondad Bingo Fic #2 AU: Biological Dad

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Sunlight by ArdenSkyeHolmes221

summary: “Stop pouting and ignoring me. You’re giving me a complex.”

“I am— I’m not pouting,” he sputters, avoiding his father’s gaze.

“Oooh, but you are ignoring me.”

***

Or the one where Peter struggles reintegrating in his own life after his dad lived five years without him.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none

Twist of Fate by karenninaaa

summary: A single picture triggered Tony Stark to suspect that Peter Parker was his son, biologically.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

An Anatomy Lesson by stained_glass_heart

summary: Completely self indulgent fluff to start healing from Endgame. No plot at all. Just soft Irondad caring for a baby spiderson.

Includes broad generalizations of anatomy, a stubborn carseat, Peter Parker being the most chill baby ever, and no beta.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Father Figure* by vanillaxo

summary: Tony was panicked.

No, scrap that, he was frightened. Inconsolable. Perturbed. Hysterical. Definitely not capable of being a father- much less one overnight to two kids.

Father. Two. Kids.

God. It even sounded insane. Was the universe serious? This had to be a joke, right?

- CURRENTLY ON HIATUS -

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Outsider by PinkEasterEggs

summary: “You know,” his Dad mused when they were halfway through the bread and the ducks were all swimming around them. “I used to come here during the 5 years when you were . . . gone.”

Peter didn’t know what to say, he’d half expected his Dad to of brought Morgan.

“I never brought any bread,” Tony sighed. “I just sat on that park bench for hours. I thought about bringing Morgan one year but . . . i wanted this place to be ours and ours only.”

Peter couldn’t even say how much that meant to him.

“You’ve changed,” Peter admitted. His Dad had created a whole new life for himself, one that Peter wasn’t really sure where he fit. All of his stuff had been thrown out and the Tower was sold.

“I know,” Tony sighed, ducking his head down to kiss Peter’s crown. “But i’ll always be your Dad."

Peter tries to find his place in the world after the Avengers defeated Thanos. As much as he knows he's loved, he can't shake the feelings of being replaced when he comes into a new world where his father is now married and had another child.

(No Spider-Man Far From Home Spoilers)

#10: Biological Child

pairings: pepperony

tags: angst

warnings: none

The Chilling Realities Of Hunting And Being Hunted by Buckets_Of_Stars

summary: All Peter and Tony had to do was cross the mountains. That’s it. Just climb a few hills and get to the Convention. They didn’t count on the snow, or the wind, or the fact that neither of them have cell service.

And they definitely didn’t count on the fact that they would be hunted—stalked—as they sit, freezing and shaking, on the side of the road.

pairings: none

tags: angst hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Scarecrow Pose by ArdenSkyeHolmes221

summary: “J, you gotta help me.” Tony puffs air like he’s been a chain smoker all his life as he gasps on the hardwood floor. “Pete’s— Pete’s got too much energy.”

“If I may make a suggestion, sir, perhaps what young master needs is to channel his energy constructively.”

“Such— such as?”

“Perhaps yoga, sir?”

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

A Pool For Two? by PinkEasterEggs

summary: Peter Stark knew that he wasn’t allowed outside their Malibu mansion without his father’s approval. But he decided that his dad couldn’t be too mad because all he wanted to do was splash about in the pool for a little while. Last summer Peter hadn’t been all that confident in the water, shying away from the newly built slides and rides. This year, however, Peter was older and far more experienced. And man did he wanna go down those water slides.

Peter just wants to go for a swim; too bad his dad stops him-- or does he?

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Better? by crowkag

summary: While Tony and Peter might be afraid of different things, what they have in common is where they go for comfort: each other.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Two Vodka Martinis: Extra Dry, Extra Olives, Extra Fast by PinkEasterEggs

summary: “Well, Tony Stark, fancy seeing you here.”

Tony’s expression went blank as he searched the woman’s face, a hand moving out as he took a guess at her name. “. . . Karen.”

“Christine,” she spoke over him. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here tonight. Can i at least get a reaction from you?”

“Panic,” Tony supplied, looking to the side and trying his best not to look at his young son’s confused face. “I would say panic . . .”

Tony takes his son, Peter, to the Stark Industries' Annual Benefit for the Firefighter's Family Fund where they run into a face Tony would rather forget.

#4: Gala/ Press Event

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Postage Parenting* by TheLastStraws

summary: In the silence of his lab, Tony slid the letter out from the envelope, aggravating the permanent creases to unfold it. He read it again. Well, he skipped down to the one sentence, looped in bubbly cursive handwriting, that sent him into a panicked, aggravated, and depressed tailspin these past few days. Just one sentence.

“I’m pregnant.”

(Tony discovers he's father to a precious, eleven-year-old Peter Parker a few months after the Battle of New York. A retelling/AU of Iron Man 3 and beyond.)

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

A Bite-Sized Experience by Buckets_Of_Stars

summary: When Tony mentioned to Peter one time that he knows how to make pasta-- not the shitty "get in a box at the store and heat up for 10 minuets" pasta-- but the real deal, Peter would not shut up about it. Honestly, it had started to drive Tony insane.

Tony's solution: Teach Peter how to make homemade spaghetti.

(Or: IronDad and SpiderSon make some food and shenanigans result)

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

We'll get there someday Peter by Webtrinsic

summary: "It angered him. His son was not broken. No one would dare tell him otherwise"

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Damaged At Best (Like You've Already Figured Out) by JolinarJackson, ShoyzzArt

summary: ”Don’t come any closer,” Spider-Man said, his hand raised threateningly, his fingers resting against a trigger mechanism nestled into his palm. ”Alright,” Tony answered. For a moment, they looked at each other – Tony stuck to the wall on one side of the alley and Spider-Man stuck to the other – then Tony opened his helmet to show his face. ”Hey, there”, he said. ”Nice to finally meet you.”

---

The Avengers are left shaken in the aftermath of the Sokovia Accords. With half the team under house arrest at the Compound, Tony finds himself seeking refuge in Avengers Tower and starts forming a tentative friendship with the neighborhood vigilante Spider-Man. A friendship which is quickly threatened by Secretary Ross doubting Spider-Man’s intentions and integrity. Tony is left wondering who to trust, especially when Spider-Man manages to uncover the one secret Tony never wanted anyone to know about: the child Tony had with a woman named Mary Fitzpatrick sixteen years ago.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: alcoholism

#mcu #irondad #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #my fic recs #tw alcoholism

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orangeoctopi7 · 4 years ago

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Everyone Loves an Underdog

: Chapter 1 : Chapter 2 : Chapter 3 : Chapter 4 :

The brothers were eternally grateful that Stan had his own car, so they didn’t have to endure a painfully awkward drive with Filbrick to the gym where the boxing match would be held. Their father took his own Oldsmobile.

“Uh, is the gym on the corner of Beach and Poplar, or Beach and Poppy?” Stan asked as they stopped at an intersection.

“I don’t know, you spent far more time there than I did.” Ford shrugged. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember how to get there?”

“It’s been over forty years and last summer I got my memory erased, cut me some slack, Sixer!”

“Ok, ok, relax! You know it’s off of Beach Street, right? So we just need to find Beach and drive up and down it until we find the right building.”

“Right. I can do that.” Stan assured himself.

They only had to turn around once before they found the gym. Luckily, there were plenty of cars parked outside signalling they had found the correct building. There were obviously some highly anticipated matches tonight. Stan doubted most of them were here for him, though. A three-round match between a couple of minors was hardly the kind of stuff people were clamoring to see.

“Did you two get lost on the way here?” Filbrick asked sarcastically.

“What? Hah, no!” Stan denied. “Ford thought he saw a UFO, we went a different route to see if we could get a better look at it.”

Ford rolled his eyes. Sure, throw me under the bus.

“You two need to stop wastin’ your time with that crap.” Filbrick grunted. “Now go get warmed up, or you’re gonna hurt yourself out there.”

“Good luck!” Ford told Stan as he made his way to the locker room.

“What, like I need it?” Stan called back.

Stanford followed his father into the stands, where they took a seat in the front row. A few spots had been reserved for the fighters’ family members and coaches.

“Hey there, Fil!” Stan’s coach said as he took a seat next to them. “Your Stanley sure likes to cut it close, doesn’t he? I mean, I know he’s more than a match for the Crampelter kid, but you’d think he’d give himself more than five minutes to warm up!”

“Yeah, he was busy goofin’ off with his brother here.” Filbrick inclined his head towards Ford.

“Oh, is that Stanford?” The coach asked sarcastically. “Yeah, I didn’t recognize you, it’s been so long.”

Ford rolled his eyes. It hadn’t even been a year, and he would have quit sooner if his father hadn’t been so insistent that it was “teaching important life skills”. The teen had only been able to convince his father to let him quit when he brought home brochures explaining that State Science Fair winners often won scholarships.

“What’s it been, five months since you quit? I thought you traded in your boxing gloves for a lab coat and test tubes?”

“I’m just here to support Stanley.” Ford answered stiffly.

“Sure, sure.” The coach turned his attention back to Filbrick. “Y’know, Fil, you’re a lucky guy. You got two very talented sons. One’s got all the brains, the other’s got all the brawn! Makes me wonder what’s left for the third one!”

The two men chuckled over the joke.

“Yeah, I would be lucky, if either of ‘em had the sense to put all that talent into something useful!” Filbrick replied. “Instead Stanley wastes all his winnings on that fancy car of his, and Stanford’s got his head in the clouds, dreamin’ about UFO’s and monsters. And they both waste all their time tinkerin’ with that old wreck they found on the beach. It was cute when they were little, but they’re both about to graduate from highschool! It’s high-time they grew out of it!”

“I’m right here.” Ford hissed.

“...What was that?” Filbrick asked, although it was clear he knew exactly what his son had just said.

“I’m sitting right here! I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking about me as if I wasn’t!”

The two older men stared at the teen for a moment, their shock apparent even in the dim light of the stands.

“Finally standin’ up to your old man, eh?” Filbrick finally said. “Maybe you learned something here after all.”

The coach and Filbrick moved on to talking about the other matches that were taking place that night, leaving Ford to steam silently to himself.

I still have to live with him for at least another day. I’ll just have to bite my tongue until the Time Tape is fixed. Then I can say whatever I like to his gravestone.

* * *

By the time Stan got changed into his boxing gear, he didn’t have a lot of time to warm up. But he was a limber, 17-year-old kid. If he could take on a horde of zombies without warning at the age of 63, he could go a few rounds with Crampelter after only five minutes of warm up.

It felt like significantly less than five minutes when the bell rang that signaled it was his turn in the ring. He took one last swig of water from the fountain, popped in his mouth guard, and walked out the door into the waiting crowd. His coach was waiting for him at the ropes. And just behind the coach, in the front row, were Ford and Filbrick. Stan tried to smile at his brother through the mouthguard. Ford chuckled and smiled back.

“Ladies and gentlemen, introducing our junior heavyweight match of the night!” the announcer called as the fighters entered the ring. “In the blue corner, weighing in at 254 pounds and six feet, seven inches tall, Dalton Crampelter!” There was a smattering of polite applause before the announcer continued “And in the red corner, weighing in at 210 pounds and 6 feet and an inch tall, Stanley Pines!” The crowd cheered. This may not have been the main event of the night, but people loved to see a little guy take on a big guy, even if Stan hardly qualified as a little guy in normal circumstances.

Crampelter glowered down at Stan as they both stepped to the center of the ring.

“Yhr hoing doon, Mines!” Ever the bully, Crampelter always had to get a taunt in, no matter how stupid he sounded trying to talk through his mouthguard. Stan just rolled his eyes and smirked.

The referee approached them, looking completely exasperated. He’d worked here since before these two rivals first started boxing lessons, and he knew their history. “Alright you two, I don’t want a repeat of last time. Don’t make me pull you blockheads appart. At least try to beat each other up within the established rules. I’ve lectured you both on them so many times, I shouldn’t need to repeat them again.”

"I hon't if he hon't." Stan mumbled.

Crampelter just sneered.

The ref stepped back and held up his hands. The bell rang, and the match started.

Stan made a jab for Crampelter right away. The bully had been expecting it, and blocked. They continued to exchange jabs for a few seconds, neither penetrating the other’s defenses, until Stan successfully faked Crampelter out, twitching his left hand down and popping the bully in his right temple the moment his guard was down. The ref blew the whistle.

“Hard blow to the head, point red!”

The two contestants stepped back. Stan could hear cheers from Ford and his coach behind him. He could also hear Crampelter’s coach yelling obscenities from across the ring.

They squared up again and the bell for the second round rang. This time, Crampelter came out swinging. Stan blocked the blow, but there was so much force behind it, it sent a jolt of pain through his arm. That’s gonna bruise in the morning. He had to take a step back to keep his footing, and Crampelter took advantage of the momentary loss of balance to drive another punch in, this time aiming for Stan’s gut. He turned his body just in time to dodge the brunt of the attack, but the glancing blow to his ribs still hurt.

Now Stan knew it was time to get serious. He feigned a trip, and when the bully tried to push him over, he surged forward and landed an uppercut to Crampelter’s jaw. The bully gave an enraged snort, and grabbed Stan’s offending arm. Crampelter shifted his weight forward, fully intending to push Stan down to the mat, as though this was a wrestling match, and squash him.

So you wanna fight dirty, huh? Alright then.

Stan pushed back against Crampelter for about a second before reversing directions without warning. He pulled the bully down with him and extracted his arm, rolling out of the way at the last second, so that his opponent landed hard on his shoulder.

The ref blew his whistle again, and stepped forward to separate the two fighters. “Well, at least we got one round where you both fought fair.” he sighed. “Disqualified round due to illegal moves. No points!” The crowd cheered. They didn’t care if it was illegal, they were getting quite the show.

Stan and Crampelter were both breathing hard by the start of the third round. Stan’s right arm was throbbing where he’d blocked that harsh blow earlier, and he could tell from Crampelter’s stance that the bully’s shoulder was hurting him where he’d landed.

Let’s hope I can end this in the next round.

Both competitors rushed forward at the bell. Stan got a solid jab in at the sternum, but Crampelter was more concerned with his footwork. The bully stomped down hard on Stan’s right foot.

“Yah cheatin’ fonofah--” Stan mumbled through his mouthguard. He kneed his opponent in the shin, but that only seemed to make Crampelter mad. The hulking teen bodychecked Stan, glomming onto his head.

Stan tensed up. He’d fought government agents and South American drug gangs and angry bikers. He knew how to come out on top in an unfair fight. He headbutted Crampelter, gaining himself a little bit of room as the bully reeled back from the blow.

“Lef’ hook!” Stan shouted as soon as his arm had room to maneuver. His fist collided with Crampelter’s nose, making a satisfying crack.

The whistle blew for the final time. “Match point due to injury, victory red! Can we get a medic up here to set Crampelter’s nose?”

Stan spit out his mouthguard and grinned down at his family. He climbed down from the ring to the sound of applause.

“Great match, kid!” His coach greeted him. “I mean, as your coach, I kinda have to tell you to not fight dirty like that, but hey, he started it, right? And you still came out on top!”

“Congratulations, Stanley.” Ford was at his side in a second, looking him over with concern. “But how’s your arm? It looked pretty bad from where I was sitting.”

“Don’t worry so much, Poindexter, I’m fine.” Stan assured him.

Filbrick simply gave a small nod of approval. “Good to see you can beat an overgrown gorilla boy.”

Stan gulped involuntarily. “Uh… thanks, dad.” He said with a forced grin. “Welp, we’re gonna head home!”

“Head home? But Somners and Epstein are fighting next!” The coach protested.

“Oh, uh, yeah, but, heh, my arm’s really been through the wringer tonight. I gotta get it patched up, y’know.”

“They got plenty of ice at the concessions stand.” Filbrick grunted. “Y’can’t go runnin’ home to ma to get coddled every time you have a rough match. Gettin’ hurt is part of the game, son.”

That was something Stan knew all too well. In the time between getting kicked out and moving to Gravity Falls, he’d occasionally take up prize fighting to earn a little extra money. He could never keep it up for long though. It was too rough on the body, especially when they paid you to take a fall, and the other guy thought the only way to “make it look convincing” was to actually beat the snot out of you. And of course, no matter how much they offered to pay him, it never seemed to be enough to cover a trip to the hospital.

“Well, I need to go home and work on my science fair project.” Ford interjected.

“Tough luck, you should’ve thought of that before you came out here tonight, Knucklehead.” Filbrick said caustically.

Stan stared at his father like a deer in the headlights. I got my own car, we can go home if we want! He wanted to say it, but for some reason, his insides froze and his mouth glued shut in the face of his dad’s disapproval.

Ford put an arm around his shoulder. “Fine then. Let’s go get you some ice, Stan.”

The brothers made a beeline for the concessions stand, but once they got a bag of ice for Stan’s arm, Ford started pulling him towards the exit.

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“But dad said--”

“Oh please, he probably won’t even notice for another round or two. And then what’s he going to do?”

“Probably ground us when he gets home.” Stan guessed. “Shout so loud the neighbors knock on the wall again.”

“Grounding will hardly matter once the Time Tape is fixed.”

“I mean, our past selves will still have to deal with it.”

“We were grounded plenty of times in the past. Once more won’t hurt.”

Stan climbed into his car and tried to figure out how he could hold the ice pack to his arm and still properly grasp the steering wheel.

“Perhaps I should drive.” Ford suggested.

Stan grit his teeth for a moment before finally sighing and trading spots with his brother. “Just don’t drive her like one of your crazy spaceships.”

“That would be impossible. Cars don’t have pitch or roll.”

“Yeah, let’s keep it that way.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes, until Stan winced as his arm gave a particularly painful throb.

“How’s your arm?” Ford asked in concern.

“Hurts more than I remember.” Stan admitted. “Course, I’ve had worse. Well, probably not by this point in my life, but I will have worse.” he rolled his eyes. “Yeesh, time travel is confusing.”

“Yes, the sooner we can get back to 2013, the better.” Ford agreed. “I don’t know how much longer I can take living with dad. I’ve already come dangerously close to snapping at him twice.”

“Yeah, same here. Not the snapping part, funny enough, but I really don’t think I can take much more of him.” Stan adjusted the ice bag on his arm. “Is there anything I can do to help speed that along?”

“Hmmm… you could finish filing off the points on the circuitry while I open up the original Time Tape’s casing and remove the burnt-out circuitry. Just be careful, it’s very fine detail work.”

“Sure. Anything to get back to our own time quicker. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see ma again, but…”

“Can’t say the same for dad and everyone else?”

“Yeah.”

Their mother was waiting for them when they arrived home, having already put Shermie to bed for the night.

“Oh, baby, what happened?” She asked when she saw the half-melted ice bag Stan was holding to his right arm.

“Heh, you should see the other guy!” He joked.

“I suppose that means you won your match?”

“Yeah. Probably for the best you didn’t come, mom, it was a bloody one.”

“Only when you broke Crampelter’s nose.” Ford amended with a snicker.

“Well, what happened to your arm?”

“Heh, I blocked a punch that felt like the giant put all of his weight into.” Stan explained. “Then in the next round, when I popped him with an uppercut, he grabbed the same arm and tried to push me down. I had to twist it around a lot to get out of there, and I think that made the bruising worse.”

Caryn heaved a beleaguered sigh. “I don’t know why you keep on fighting in these boxing matches. You’re gonna get yourself really hurt one of these days!”

Stan shrugged. “It’s fun. And it’s good money. I’ll be able to pay off my parking ticket now.”

“Well, there’s that at least.” She turned to Ford. “And Stanford, honey, did you have fun?”

“Er… fun isn’t the word I’d use to describe it.” Ford grimaced. “But I am glad I went.”

“Oh good. And lemme guess. Your father stayed to watch the other matches tonight?”

“Yeah.” The boys answered in unison.

Their mother rolled her eyes. “Guess I’d better wait up for him too.” She switched on the TV and sat on the couch.

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Filbrick Pines #Crampelter #My Writing

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timdrakequotes · 5 years ago

Note

Hey! Was wondering if you could pull up some of Tim’s serious/inspirational quotes.

1. ‘One of the things I’ve learned is that it gets bad for everyone sometimes. Superman, Batman–everyone. I remember I’m not alone. I remember things do get better. Sometimes on their own, most times when you work at them. And when I have trouble remembering those things, I find people to talk to. […] Your folks, an old friend, even a trained counselor you’ve never met before. Someone who has a totally different perspective because they’re not as close to the problems as you are. Maybe they give you advice, and that’s great…or maybe they just listen. Sometimes, that’s all you need. Anyway, that’s how I deal with it when things suck. And it works.’ –Tim Drake (Robin #156 – The High Dive)

2. ‘Get up. Get the hell up. You don’t get to quit!’

–Tim Drake to himself (Robin #167 – The Promise)

3. “You know what? You never made me Robin. I made myself.”

–Tim Drake on Batman (Robin #100 – The Price of Justice)

4. ‘All of us. We’re not the costumes. At the end of the day, we’re just a bunch of scared guys trying to fight through the fear and leave the world a little better than we found it. People always ask,“Why Young Justice?” I’ll tell you why: Because we’re so damned glad that we found each other, that we hold on to each other like life preservers as the flood waters rise. We don’t get more complicated than that. We don’t have to.’

–Tim Drake (Young Justice #55 – I’ve Got A Secret)

5. ‘Maybe…maybe it was the pressure. When you’re fighting for what you believe in–for what’s right–you find out just how alone you are. Every time you face up to evil, you have to beat it. But you only have one life…and you can’t afford to lose it. It’s a knife-edge not many can walk. Sometimes…even heroes fall.’

–Tim Drake (Batman #466 – No More Heroes)

6. ‘I don’t like people putting us in a box. Telling us what we’re capable of. Telling us who we are. I chose to become Robin, nobody picked me.’

–Tim Drake (Teen Titans #4 – Breaking the Rules)

7. “I hear a lot of loose talk about “justice” these days. Maybe we should talk more about peace.”

–Tim Drake (Robin #26 – The Hard Lessons)

8. “Despite how cold and empty I actually feel, I go out of my way to keep it lighthearted. Because I’m not going to surrender to the void, no matter how attractive and comforting it seems. The all too welcoming abyss. That dark place where Batman lives.”

–Tim Drake (Robin #132 – Fresh Blood Part One of Four: Too Many Ghosts)

9. “I can feel it now, like Batman used to. Electricity and guilt, shadows and sadness, kinetic energy and hope. It’s my city now if I want it to be. Not Dick’s. Not Bruce’s. Mine. But to make it that way…to make it right…what will I have to become? So many choices…but what will be my decision…?”

–Tim Drake (Red Robin #26 – What Goes Around…)

10. ‘If I were no longer Robin…that would mean that no more innocent people are being threatened. No more criminals going around breaking the law. No one was living in fear of their lives. No more crime or wrongdoing. It would mean that mankind had entered Utopia, and I’d be happy for humanity. Because that would be the only circumstance under which I’d quit the game.’

–Tim Drake to Young Justice (Young Justice #7 – Conferences)

11. Robin: [to Jack Drake’s grave] I’m tired of pretending that not having you here isn’t killing me. That every time I lose someone else, it doesn’t take a little part of me with them. Before…before it happened, you told me it was all worth it. This life was all worth it, and that I should never question it. Well, I’ve been trying…please believe that I’m still trying…but every day I have to find another reason to put this mask back on. Sometimes it’s for Bruce. Sometimes for Conner, but a lot of times, I do it for you. Because you were brave enough to understand the man I wanted to be. And you lost your life because of it. If I was just some normal kid with some normal life, you’d be alive today. Maybe Mom would be alive today. Were your lives really worth all the others I’ve saved? God, how can I even ask that? Dad, I used the night of your death as a reason–no, as an excuse to turn into someone else…and I came here tonight to tell you it won’t happen again. I’ll never give up, Dad. Not while there’s a breath in our bodies–neither one of us will ever give up.

Batman: [above Tim on a tree branch] No. We won’t.

Robin: We’ll get stronger. We’ll get faster. We’ll get smarter. We’ll honor you, and everyone else we’ve lose. We’ll die before this happens again. We won’t forget. And maybe some day… Maybe you can forgive us.

Batman: Goodnight, Jack. I’ll take it from here.

–Tim Drake with Bruce Wayne to Jack Drake (Robin #167 – The Promise)

12. ‘I don’t care if I am afraid–I can still act!’–Tim Drake to Scarecrow

(Batman #457 – Master of Fear)

13. “Here’s the thing: no one can predict their own future. The best a guy can do is to look to those who’ve been much longer on the same path as him, and see what a life of walking that path has done for them. For me, those people are Bruce and Dick.

You see what I’m getting at? Bruce has been on the job the longest. It’s slowly driven him madand eaten the human part right out of him. But what about Dick? Surely a guy like him can’t dedicate himself to this line of work and keep a level head on his shoulders? I wanna yell “He can!” But I can’t forget the glimpses I’ve seen recently of the same kind of monster eating at Dick, too. Little things that, looking back now, I can remember seeing in Bruce a few years ago. Should I call them “early warning signs”? Do I dare to assume it’s a disease I can’t catch with time?”

–Tim Drake (Robin #100 – The Price of Justice)

14. ‘You can’t have a friendship without trust…nor a relationship…nor a teammate. Take Batman for example… He trusts me to keep his secrets, to cover his back. I trust him the exact same way. He knows that I’ll always consult him on anythinghaving to do with those secrets, and vice versa. Because of that implicit trust, our relationship works. And it’s unique.’

–Tim Drake to Secret and Spoiler (Young Justice #30 – Round Robin)

15. “No time for ego, hurt feelings, petty disagreements…it’s all in the past. I need help. I can’t do this by myself.”

–Tim Drake (Red Robin #9 – Collision: Part One of Four)

16. “Hesitation…second guessing…self-pity… Leave them behind. They’re death now. Use what you know. Remember what you learned. Be smart. Stay alive. Save the girl. Remember what Shiva taught you…what Ducard taught you. Remember how Dick moves so effortlessly. Remember Conner’s own special “techniques.” Remember what Bruce did. Use it all now. Win the next fight and the one after that before you get there. Remember everything your teachers gave you. Don’t be any of them. Be all of them.”

–Tim Drake (Red Robin #8 – Council of Spiders: Part Four of Four)

17. Tim: Robin is a symbol just as much as Batman is. It isn’t just a symbol of the law, it’s a symbol of justice. And Batman needs a Robin.

Batman: What I do is dangerous.

Tim: I know.

–Tim Drake with Bruce Wayne (Young Justice Secret Origins – 80 Page Giant: Little Wing)

18. ‘Of course we’re going to do this. I said it looked tough, not unbeatable.’

–Tim Drake to Secret (Young Justice Secret Files and Origins – Take Back the Night)

19. ‘“Never fight angry.” I didn’t know what it meant until tonight. He wasn’t talking about style or common sense. He was talking about weapons. Honor. Purpose. That’s what helps you survive and win. When all you bring to the fight is anger…you’ve already lost.’

–Tim Drake (Robin #25 – Sophomore Lethal)

20. ‘If you’re asking if I plan to continue as Robin, the answer is yes. I’m more determined now than ever before. But don’t for a moment think I’m now like you, Bruce. I’m not about to let these losses turn me into another copy of you–grim and vengeful and closed off from most of what keeps us human. Steph and Darla and my Dad died in a war worth fighting–made even more so because of the terrible price they paid, not in spite of it. I won’t squander their sacrifice by quitting again. So, if you’ll still have me, I’m Robin, and I’m in it for the long run.’

–Tim Drake to Bruce Wayne (Robin #132 – Fresh Blood Part One of Four: Too Many Ghosts)

21. ‘This is the deal. You want us to be part of the Teen Titans, this Tower has nomore rules. We get enough of them at home. We won’t sit on the sidelines. We won’t be treated like inferiors.’

–Tim Drake (Teen Titans #6 – War and Peace)

22. ‘We know we’re right, but what’s the point in being right if we’re not willing to fight for it?’

–Tim Drake to Red Tornado (Young Justice #18 – Revolting Developments)

#answered

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ughseoks-main · 5 years ago

Text

left behind

peter parker x reader

summary: you begin to feel neglected when peter parker is introduced to the avenger family, and you’ve had enough of it.

“I just don’t wanna be left behind.”

word count: 3.9k

warnings: just some angst & a breakdown

a/n: hehehe a bit of a longer blurb w/ some angst for y’all ;)))) lmk what ya think!!

masterlist

You could still remember the days when Cap would patch up your scraped knees, giving them the magic ‘feel better’ kisses before telling you to be more careful next time. Sometimes, Nat would give you little lessons on how to fight like her, never growing impatient with your repetitive mistakes and general inability to catch onto her complex moves. Clint would even ruffle your hair and watch a movie every Friday night, always letting you choose (no matter how many times you requested Cinderella.)

Tony might’ve been your biological father, but the truth was, the whole team was your family. You loved your dad, and there was no doubt about it: he was a pretty damn good one. But you were basically the child of all of the avengers, and they never failed to show you how much they loved you. They’d help you with your homework, boy problems, and pretty much anything a teenager could ever need advice on; most importantly, they made you feel important and loved when you needed it the most.

But everything changed when a certain bug-boy came into the picture.

One day when you were sitting on the couch with Bruce discussing a tricky math problem, Tony waltzed in with a young, curly-haired boy trailing closely behind him. He looked about your age and a nervous smile graced his face when you locked eyes.

“Guys, this is Peter,” Tony introduced you to him and he waved awkwardly.

“H-Hi.”

“Peter, this is my daughter, Y/N,” he pointed to you before shifting his gaze towards Bruce, “I’m sure you already know who Doctor Banner is. Big green guy, can have a bit of a temper-”

“Tony,” Bruce warned, nodding at Peter with a soft smile.

“Aright, alright,” Tony patted the kid’s shoulder, “I’m gonna finish showing the new blood around. You two have fun.”

You couldn’t stop staring at Peter and his slightly pink cheeks as he turned to leave. After all, you were curious. It was rare to see high school aged kids in the compound, let alone ones as cute as Peter.

“Earth to Y/N…” Bruce waved his hand in front of your face, smiling when you jumped back in surprise.

‘Huh?” your cheeks heated as you scrambled to grab your pencil, “Oh yeah, uh, the math problem…”

As the weeks went on, you began to see more and more of Peter, his face popping up almost everywhere you went. Whether it be grabbing lunch in the kitchen, or taking the elevator down to the lobby, Peter was there, giving you shy side glances and small smiles. If you were being honest, it was pretty nice at first. After all, you never really got to hang out with kids your age, because it was too dangerous for you to go to a public school.

But your relationship with Peter forever changed after you got stuck in the elevator together one afternoon. Tony was rebooting FRIDAY, and in his usual fashion, forgot to inform pretty much anybody of the temporary shutdown. This left you and Peter alone in the elevator for roughly an hour. The first few minutes were awkward, which was to be expected; but after those few minutes… it felt like a spark went off. Conversation erupted, laughter filling the air as the two of you exchanged jokes and anecdotes. Whether it be meme references or results of scientific experiments, you covered it all.

From that point on, you and Peter were inseparable, doing practically everything together. There was no doubting it; he was your best friend. (And if you were being completely honest with yourself, there were probably some underlying feelings that were a bit more… romantic.)

Everything was smooth sailing for a while, uncontrollable laughter filling the corridors wherever the two of you went. Of course, you had your ups and downs, but nothing too serious ever kept you apart for more than a day. It was an ongoing joke at the tower that the two of you were attached at the hip. Hell, Peter even began to come along with you to some of your family activities. After all, he was practically family now.

But nothing that’s perfect lasts for long.

Things started to fall apart on a normal Friday night. It was 8:32pm, and you’d just popped some popcorn in preparation for your and Clint’s weekly movie night. But when you stepped into the room, the sounds of laughter already filled the air, a movie playing as background noise to the conversation. Peter and Clint were sitting on the couch, throwing pieces of popcorn at each other in a playfully competitive way.

“What’re you guys doing?” you blurted out, somewhat shocked by the whole situation.

Peter and Clint snapped their heads in your direction, Peter’s face lighting up upon seeing you. “Oh, hey Y/N!” he chirped, flashing you a happy smile, “Clint and I were just watching a movie… or at least trying to…” he giggled, gesturing towards the popcorn bowls, “Wanna join?”

“Oh. Uh…” you paused, a little unsure of what to do. In all honesty, you didn’t really know how to react to the scene laid out before you; you didn’t even know how you felt. Sure, you felt a little upset, but you were also understanding of the situation. But more than anything, you were just… confused.

Why did Clint not wait for you to come into the room before beginning the movie? Why was Peter even here for him to watch a movie with? He should’ve been at home with May. Did Clint invite him to watch the movie, or did Peter suggest it himself? Why weren’t you included in any of this?

“I actually think I have some chemistry homework or something, so, uh, I should go.”

“Aw man,” Peter pouted, sticking out his bottom lip, “Well, good luck on your homework! If you get done early, you should come back down and hang with us.”

You flashed him a tight smile before letting your eyes drift over to Clint, almost immediately looking away when your gazes met. He was giving you the look that told you he wasn’t buying any of your excuses. After all, he could see through pretty much any ruse you threw at him.

“Pete, can you give us a sec?” Clint patted his shoulder and walked over to you, nodding his head towards the hallway to signal Peter to leave the room. “Listen, Y/N, Peter really wanted to watch this movie, and I wasn’t sure if you were coming down tonight—”

“Clint, it’s fine,” you held up a palm, trying to reassure him when he gave you another disbelieving look, “I promise. I get it, I really do.”

After a few moments of consideration, he pulled you into a side hug, ruffling your hair. “If you say so, kiddo.”

A few hours later, when you were laying in bed, you just couldn’t get what had happened off of your mind. You doubted it was intentional, and you had to admit, it was a pretty small thing to get upset over. Besides, you weren’t one to hold a grudge. Deciding it was best to put it behind you, you rolled over and fell asleep, hoping that the incident would be a one-time thing.

If only you’d realized just how wrong you were.

— -

From that point on, things started to go downhill, and fast. More and more often, you were finding Peter doing things you used to do with the whole group. At first, you tried to force yourself into things and make yourself known. But no matter how much you spoke up or how hard you tried, you still somehow felt like an outsider in your own home; an outcast in your own family.

Nobody paid attention to you, no matter how hard you tried. All they seemed to do was fawn over their baby Peter, making sure that he was okay and that he knew he was the apple of their eye.

You felt like a background character in everybody’s lives, including your own.

Eventually, you gave up trying to be included. You began to lock yourself in your room, isolating yourself from everybody in the compound, Peter included. Peter knew something was up, but when he tried to ask you about it, you brushed it off, telling him he was imagining things. Just because you were upset didn’t mean you had to bring him down with you, right?

You knew that you could always talk to the group about how you felt, but you didn’t want to cause any trouble. So, you kept it all inside, locked in a small box hidden in the back of your mind. Every time something new happened, you’d open up the box and throw your feelings in there, always sure to never let a word slip out.

But the thing about that hidden box was that it was bound to overflow. After all, it was a finite space, and you couldn’t keep locking away your feelings without snapping.

That snap finally came when you walked into the lab one afternoon, seeing Peter and Bruce working on some sort of small machine. Taking a few steps closer, your heart dropped when you recognized that small machine as your personal project; an experiment that you’d been working on for years. You’d only told Tony about it because it was so personal to you (and even if you had tried to tell the others, you doubted they would have cared.)

“Huh… try connecting this wire to that one,” Bruce pointed to the object, deep in thought. Peter stuck out his tongue slightly as he carefully reconnected the wires, cheering when the device whirred to life successfully.

“Yes!” he grinned, giving Bruce a high five, “I can’t believe we—”

He paused when he saw you in the doorway, his smile softening a bit, “Hey Y/N! Wanna check out this cool project Bruce and I just finished? We found it sitting in the lab and decided to fix it up!”

You stood frozen, not even sure how to react. Your initial response was anger, a surge of betrayal spreading through your veins like fire. “I’m good.” you said through gritted teeth, taking a deep breath.

“You sure? It’s really cool! I can explain how it works if you want—”

“I already know how it works!” you blurted out, exasperation and annoyance soaking every syllable, “It was my project. I made that. I’ve been working on it for years. So no, I don’t need your explanation on how it works. That wasn’t yours to tamper with.”

“Y/N,” Bruce said with concern, “Is everything okay? This doesn’t seem like you. We didn’t know the project was yours; it was an honest mistake.”

“How would you have known? It isn’t like you pay attention to me anymore,” you scoffed, glaring daggers at the pair, “Besides, even if you had known, I’m sure that you would’ve finish it anyways if Peter had wanted to. You guys do whatever the hell he wants, yet you can’t even find the time to say goodnight to me anymore.”

“Woah, where is this coming from?” Bruce looked genuinely confused, “Who said we weren’t paying attention to you?” Peter sat there dumbfounded as you crossed your arms, Bruce holding up his hands in defense.

“Just— forget it.” You took a deep breath and stormed off, ignoring the calls of your name as the door slammed behind you. As you went on a rampage through the compound, you drew stares from everyone. A few called out to you, asking you what was wrong, but you just kept going until you finally reached your room. Shutting your door softly, you collapsed on your bed, letting out a scream into your pillow. Every emotion was hitting you at once, causing you to feel insanely overwhelmed and helpless.

Your face was buried in a pillow when you heard a knock on your door. “What is it?” you grumbled, rolling your eyes when you heard Bruce’s voice.

“Y/N, could you come downstairs for a minute?”

“Why?” you lifted the pillow from your face, glaring at him before flipping over onto your side to face away from the doorway, “I’m perfectly fine.”

“We need to talk to you.”

“Why do you need me when you could just talk to Peter?”

Bruce sighed deeply, despite already knowing that getting you downstairs was going to be a challenge from the beginning. “You know that’s not true. Just come down for five minutes, then you can come back up to sulk.”

Groaning dramatically, you rolled off of your bed and hit the floor with a soft thump. “Fine,” you called out from your spot on the carpet behind the bed. When you heard the door shut, you slowly sat up, making your way down to the main room as slowly as humanly possible.

As soon as you took a step into the room, everybody’s heads snapped to attention. A quick glance around showed you that basically the entire team was in the room, ready to have this conversation with you. You weren’t intimidated, just reluctant to talk about the topic (mostly out of spite.) And then, your eyes landed on Peter.

“I don’t wanna talk if he’s gonna be here.” Peter looked down guiltily and messed with the hem of his shirt, trying to avoid your heated gaze.

“Y/N,” Steve began in his ‘i’m giving a speech and you will listen to me’ voice, “This clearly involves the both of you, so Peter stays.”

“It’s...” Peter began to stand up, “It’s okay, I can just leave—”

Steve reached out and grabbed his arm gently, “Peter, we want you here, for this conversation—”

“I don’t.” Cap shot you a stern look, causing you to simply cross your arms in defense.

“Y/N, you’re being unreasonable,” Clint butted in, “Peter didn’t do anything intentionally to hurt you, and he wants to make it right. We all wanna make it right.”

“Unreasonable?” you scoff, gesturing wildly around you, “I’m unreasonable for not wanting to see Peter? For not wanting to see you guys? You’ve all been perfectly fine with me pining after you for the past few weeks, but when I finally give up, suddenly you’re concerned.”

Tears were filling your eyes, but you were unaware that they were also filling Peter’s.

He pulled away from Steve, taking a few steps back towards the door. “I should leave,” he began, being interrupted by a loud protest from the group of avengers sitting in the large room.

“Just-just stop!” he yelled, effectively silencing them, “Isn’t it obvious? I only seem to make things worse. I’m clearly not helping the situation. Y/N doesn’t want to be anywhere near me. She doesn’t want anything to do with me. Am I wrong?”

Peter had known something was up with you the past few weeks, but he hadn’t realized that he was the one hurting you. It killed him. You were his best friend, and the last thing in the world he’d ever want to do is cause you pain.

“She doesn’t think that—”

“I wasn’t asking you, Bruce!” he exasperated, turning to you as a tear slipped down your cheek, “Am I wrong, Y/N?”

You didn’t confirm his statements, but you didn’t deny them, either. Instead, you simply stood there, wiping the fallen tear from your cheek. Peter exhaled heavily, taking your silence as a confirmation of everything he’d assumed. Giving everyone a short nod, he walked out into the hallway, nobody speaking up until he’d left.

“What’s gotten into you?” your dad asked, clearly fed up with the way you were acting.

“What’s gotten into me?” you gawked, raising your tone in anger, “What’s gotten into me is that I’m an outcast in my own family! You guys ignore me and all of our special traditions in favor of running off and doing them with Peter instead. It’s like— it’s like I’m not even your kid anymore! I’m a background character in my own life! Nothing I do impacts you, and you can’t even pretend like you care about my feelings. If you cared, you wouldn’t have neglected and ignored me in the first place. Once a newer, better version of me came along, you were quick to leave me in the dust.”

You’d completely broken down at this point, voice breaking from an angry scream to a teary-eyed cry as you finally unlocked your hidden box.

“I just don’t wanna be left behind.”

The room was speechless. In their minds, you’d just been adjusting to the new addition to the compound. They’d had no idea that you’d felt replaced by Peter. A feeling of guilt soaked into almost every heart in the room, the sight of the sad and tired child in front of them enough to almost bring them to tears.

“You’re our family,” Natasha offered, trying to make you feel better, “We’d never leave you behind.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Steve interrupted, earning a glare from Nat, “If we’d known, we would’ve done something about it.”

“Because it isn’t my job to tell you,” you whispered, voice cracking, “The saddest part is just that— you had no idea that I was even pulling away until I finally snapped. I know that I’m supposed to communicate with you… but all I needed was one of you to reach out. You couldn’t even do that. And… the one person who did is sitting outside right now, beating themselves up for something that you guys did.”

Tony began to speak, but you cut him off by raising a hand in objection. “If you’ll excuse me,” you sniffed, straightening your shoulders and walking towards the door, “I think I owe somebody an apology.”

— -

You found Peter outside on the patio looking out into the green surrounding the compound. He was sitting on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest. Small sniffles came from him every few seconds, and his curly hair was a mess.

“You didn’t have to come out here,” he croaked, turning to look at you as you took a seat next to him.

“I kinda did,” you smiled a bit, “You been crying?”

Peter nodded. “You don’t look too happy yourself.”

You let out a sad laugh, wiping off a few remaining tears. “I owe you an apology.”

He froze at that. “An apology?” Confusion was tugging at his features, curiosity glowing in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, wringing your hands together, “None of this was your fault. You couldn’t have known that you were encroaching on anything.”

He shrugged, wiping his nose, “I should’ve picked up on it, though.”

“You did,” you placed a hand on his arm, squeezing gently, “I just wouldn’t open up to you. That’s on me. The rest of it… well, that’s on the team. But you looked out for me even when they failed to, and I’m really grateful for that.”

You paused, taking a few seconds to gather your thoughts. Peter covered your hand with his own, running his fingers lightly against the back of your knuckles. “And I’m sorry for blowing up at you like that. I’m sorry for ignoring you and shutting you out instead of letting you in. It only made the issue worse, and it made you feel guilty for something that isn’t your fault.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes, threatening to spill down over your cheeks all over again as you whispered, “I’m sorry, Pete.”

Lifting his arm, Peter slung himself around your shoulders, pulling you into a big side hug. He was warm, his t-shirt soft between your fingers as you gripped it tightly and cried into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he consoled, rubbing small circles on your back as you hiccupped, “It’s okay.”

Slowly, your tears began to dry, and a wave of exhaustion began to spread throughout your chest. Your lungs were heavy and the air was somehow warmer as Peter continued to rub circles on your back, lulling you into a post-cry nap. Before you knew it, you were asleep, your grip on his shirt growing loose. He stroked your hair before repositioning you so you’d be more comfortable lying against him.

Peter’s head jerked up when he heard the door open, eyes widening when he saw Steve walk over towards the two of you.

“How is she, kid?” he put his hands into his pockets, gazing out at the greenery in front of him.

“She was pretty upset. I don’t think it’s gonna be fixed overnight,” Peter paused, “Where’s Mr. Stark and the rest of the team?” “We thought it’d be best to only send one person out here to get her, and Tony didn’t think she was too happy with him,” Steve explained, sadness and guilt in his gaze as he looked over at you, “Not that she’s happy with me, either.”

The vibrations from Peter’s chest as they spoke stirred you awake, causing you to blink a few times in an attempt to shake away some of the sleepiness. “Steve?” you yawned, turning to the man standing a few feet away, “What do you want?”

“To see what we can all do to make this better,” Bruce spoke up from the doorway, taking a few steps out onto the patio before the rest of the team followed.

“We messed up and we wanna fix it,” Tony shrugged, but not without throwing you an apologetic glance.

“Just… don’t be inconsiderate dicks anymore, okay?” you sighed, rubbing your face roughly in exasperation, “And give me some time. I’m upset, and that hurt isn’t gonna go away overnight. I need to process stuff, ya know.”

“Cap, you okay with that language?” Your dad joked, raising his hands in defense when you shot him a death glare, “What? He’s an old man. He can’t handle those words, Y/N.”

“And I want some really good apologies. Like, ten-page-long handwritten apology letters. Delivered by pigeon.”

“Deal. Sam, what’s our pigeon status?” Tony threw over his shoulder, earning a glare from Sam.

“I. Don’t. Talk. To. Birds,” he rolled his eyes, “You two have got to drop that bit, or I think I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“Whatever you say, birdman,” you winked before shooing the team away, “Now, can you guys leave us alone? We were having a best friend moment.”

“Okay, okay,” Bruce laughed, shouting over his shoulder as Steve pushed him along, “But we are gonna talk about this in more detail later.”

“Have your apology letter ready!” you sang, waving him goodbye with a cheesy smile until the door shut behind the group.

You turned back around with a sigh, looping your arm through Peter’s. “Thank you, Peter,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling a bit when his face flushed red, “You’re the bestest best friend I could ever ask for.”

“Just… be sure to talk to me next time, okay?” he responded, giving the hand wrapped around his forearm a squeeze, “I’m always here for you.”

He paused.

“Plus, I missed you a lot.”

“You got it,” you breathed as you laid your head on his shoulder, “And don’t worry, I missed you too.”

taglist + a few mutuals;

@minnie-marvel @magic-marvel @quxntumvandyne @imnotbitter-anna @cynicallystiles @laurfangirl424 @misslunala @secondsineternity @galaxy-parker @peterpcrker @signed-potato @lokiislowkeyhot @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @veryspectacularspiderling @delicately-written @thefallenbibliophilequote @jupiterparker @buck-ets @newtimewriter @thedaughterofdawn @lltrashll @paradoxparker @propertyofmarvel @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes @flaminghottaquito @marvel-galaxy @laureharrier @futzingclint @lokiismischief @whycantwebefriendz @hedwigthelegend @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @yelyahryan @em-aesthe @ @smexylemony @watermelonfruitsalad @thewildheroine @s0cial-retard @awkwardfangirl2014 @nobelwarriorheroes @holland-haven @moonpadillaa @lesbianismybitchname @kingccbsblog @upsidedownparker

peter parker taglist;

@lostnliterature @lovely-parker @johnmulaneyslut @irxnspxder @lovinnholland @alyssaaaas-stuff

join my tags!

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker blurb #peter parker fic #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #lainey writes #fanfiction #reader insert #xreader #angst #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader angst

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eeveemasters · 4 years ago

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hey, all you lovely people! full disclosure i talk a lot and i have thought about this character thoroughly when you look under that read more... oh boy... just a heads up. anywho... guess i’m the last here i see, well, that’s typical. I’m late to literally everything, although this time I do have a good excuse. i’d tell you what it is but you don’t really wanna read about me gettin’ it in all weekend and drew is my bro -like literally. we share blood. we came outta the same womb. 26 hours of labor. 19 minutes apart. our poor mother- so he def doesn’t wanna read about it and that is a swill of information about me before ya even know my name which says a lot, doesn’t it? inst-y-ways, I’m maddie and I’m Jewish, you’ll figure out why i’m putting that out there now. also hello again. i hope y’all are ready to get this party started, cause this is where it’s at! look below & hit that read more and I will tell you all about my baby girl, Eevee.

TW: DEATH, DEPRESSION, STALKER, MURDER, KIDNAPPING

★ ━ ( candice patton, cis-female, she/her ) ━ ★ just to be clear, ya didn’t get this information from me. The person you’re lookin’ for is EVELYN LUCIA MASTERS. also known as EEVEE. Last I heard she was born on APRIL 7TH, 1988 in SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS, but she’s been livin’ in RICHMOND, for about EIGHT MONTHS. Word around the districts is, this doll, EEVEE can be VENGEFUL, SELF-RIGHTEOUS, & A KNOW-IT-ALL, but i gotta tell, ya, alls I seen is good things, like the fact that she’s RESILIENT, CHARISMATIC, & ENERGETIC. I guess that depends on how well ya know ‘em, though. the last thing ya need to know is that she works as an A-LIST ACTRESS & CO-OWNER OF EXCALIBUR COMICS. I don’t know much about what that’s all about but I do know that’s all I can tell ya the rest you gotta find out on ya, own. ━ ( ooc: maddie, pst, 28, she/her )

Evelyn Lucia Masters.

the irony of her name is that it means “wished for child”

she was definitely not.

hence why she goes by...

Eevee.

Yes, like the Pokemon.

No, it’s not a stage name or a gimmick.

She legally changed her name.

It’s on her credit card. ( so are kittens! )

Born in San Antonio Texas.

Jewish, Bisexual & Very Proud.

Collette Rivers

Her mother.

One of the first and few Black, Soap Opera stars.

Had a wildly popular sitcom for a hot minute.

Career was on fire in the 80′s & 90′s.

Transitioned to clothing designer and eventually a reality tv real housewife when she couldn’t get jobs anymore.

Joseph Masters.

Her Father.

a former actor

was very well known for CSI.

was on broadway.

became a sought after director.

it’s a whole family in the biz, so of course...

@ two years of age, Eevee became an Actress™

baby diaper commercials with her mom.

then singing lessons.

then dance lessons.

then pageants.

more commercials.

a bit of child modeling.

more commercials.

reoccurring kid on sesame street.

then a reoccurring (but not staring) role on Gullah Gullah Island.

1998. She’s 10.

lands a role on Broadway opposite Leon Thomas III as Nala in The Lion King.

this is the jumping-off point of her career. where it really shot off

but ignoring that for a minute...

Eevee has 5 other siblings.

4 of them are alive.

when Eevee was 15 she’d just gotten season 1st ( and eventually only ) season of her Disney show renewed and she had a stalker. on her 16th birthday, the stalker snuck into her sweet 16, cornered her when she and her older, brother Elias were alone, stabbed Elias, and kidnapped Eevee. Elias was rushed to the hospital when they found him but died shortly after. They found Eevee, recovered her from the stalker unharmed, but when she asked about Elias... shortly after Eevee sunk deeper into her depression, and also suffered from survivors’ guilt and eventually had to stay in a mental hospital and was released a year later, a few days after her 17th birthday. being in the real world was hard for her and in a few weeks time, became legally emancipated from her parents because her father had taken control of monitoring her finances, her decisions, and became too controlling of her schedule and time out of his concern for her and her mother acted like none of it happened and expected Eevee to pick up where she left off and to get more jobs and keep working. It was an environment detrimental to her health and sanity so she had to get out of that and got her own place and moved away from her parents and unfortunately, her twin sister and younger brother.

Took a break from acting to finish high school.

had to have private tutors

excelled at the school aspect of her life.

had very few friends but she did have a girlfriend.

eventually, Eevee broke up with her

to seize her 5 minutes of fame she outted Eevee as a lesbian to TMZ.

It didn’t take long for Eevee to speak out.

At 17, in 2005, Eevee came out publically as Bisexual.

as a Black 17-year-old girl she was proud of herself.

but it did not go well for her in the media or in magazines.

didn’t help what little career she had left.

but she also kinda didn’t care

Became known for outspoken activism for LGBTQ+ youth.

Started her own charity and outreach program to finance and help struggling youth in the LGBTQ+ community by providing them with shelter, food, and treatment for health issues both mental and physical.

went to college...

Northwestern State University.

joined the Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority

double-majored in theater and business

got married to one of her best friends at one point to help him out with his financial situation.

graduated with degrees.

and real friends in and out of her sorority.

WORKED HER ASS OFF TO GET HER CAREER BACK ON TRACK.

it took a lot of hard work.

a lot of mediocre jobs.

a lot of auditions.

a lot of shmoozing & playing the long game.

she pulled every single string

cashed every single favor

ate a lot of shit.

including going to her mother whom she hadn’t spoken to in six years.

EVENTUALLY ROSE BACK TO THE A-LIST WITH A VENGENCE.

Several Independent Films.

Supporting roles in TV shows.

Supporting roles in a few movies.

Starring roles in a number of pilots that never got greenlit.

Starring roles in 2 tv shows.

one was canceled the first season.

the other had THREE SEASONS.

won an Emmy

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series

landed a few ad campaigns

Eevee went back to Broadway a few times over the years.

Bring It On: The Musical

played Danielle

won a tony

Best Featured Actress in a Musical.

Newsies: The Musical

played Katherine.

dream come true.

Hadestown

played Eurydice.

nominated for a Tony.

The Lion King

played adult Nala.

life coming full circle.

Currently stars in her own Netflix show.

season 2 just finished filming which is why she has moved to Portland.

PERSONALITY:

very much a complete dork. loves video games, loves comic books, has a lot of memorabilia all through her house, it’s practically a dork museum, always telling puns. always joking. always been an adorable ray of sunshine. she really likes to be a light and enforce positivity for her friends and others.

talks far too much for her own good especially when she’s nervous.

very kind, generous, and loving, always willing to help a friend.

always willing to cook for someone as a way to comfort them. She’s a well-versed home chef and an excellent baker.

she’s in-between the vodka aunt and the mom friend. she’s the first to suggest doing shots and getting fucked up, but she’ll also make sure everyone’s okay and be responsible.

She’s that friend who if you fuck with one of her friends in any way she will go into protective mamma bear mode and straight-up end that person for you. if you need someone to back you up in a fight, literally, and have your back she is your girl.

she isn’t great at flirting or really being around anyone she finds attractive, she turns into a rambling, nonstop talking, pile of adorable.

up until the end of December last year, she was a virgin. She’s only ever slept with one person so she’s not really the sleep around kind of girl but respects those who do, you do you boo, but also please don’t mistake her for a relationship type girl either. she’s neither. she’s great at fooling around and hookups that usually stop before they get to the sex part. she’s actually just very awkward when it comes to intimacy and feelings and getting close to people in that way. It fucks with her anxiety so she just needs someone who can get her out of her head and that is very hard to find for her.

She’s a feminist and believes women should be there to support each other, but also is aware that feminism isn’t always equal and some women don’t include her as a woman to support because she is a woman of color and because she’s Black and will call someone out on their white feminist or anti-black bullshit.

she’s kind but is in no way a pushover. she’s very opinionated and steadfast and isn’t afraid to reason with someone and argue with them and stand up for herself.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS:

Friends: people who can put up with her non-stop chatter and find it endearing.

Fake Friends: people who are using her for fame, recognition and what her name can do for them.

Crushes: could be one-sided, could be both-sided, let’s talk about it.

Boxing Friendship: sparing partners, or someone who sees her at the boxing gym in her workout outfits that include but is not limited to color-coordinated custom gloves, that match both her outfit, her shoes, her gym bag and the giant cheerleading bow on the top of her high ponytail, but has never actually stuck around to see her box so don’t believe she can throw an actual punch because they can’t take that seriously, because she’s just a pretty little celebrity what can she actually do, but then one day end up in an argument with her and challenge her to a sparring match and to their surprise kicks their ass and they become sparring partners. I don’t know, clearly I haven’t given that plot much thought.

Step-family member: Eevee doesn’t have a relationship with her mom, but she is aware the woman got married to another woman who has kids when Eevee was 19 or so. She’s never met any of them. Never spoken to any of them. Never been invited to family functions. Knows full well they exist and they know full well she exists and they have actually hung out with other members of her family, just not her. So that sounds like awkward and traumatic fun for all involved right?? Bring the angst.

Fellow Actors: They could be real friends, could be fake friends, could have worked together, could just know of each other, could be a publicity friendship, dude, I don’t know.

Fans / Haters: like her work or don’t like her work???????????? I don’t know I’m just throwing stuff out there at this point.

I don’t know we’ll figure something out, I AM PUMPED AND EXCITED!!

#pb:intro #pb:ooc #death tw #depression tw #murder tw #stalker tw #kidnapping tw

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holidaywishes · 5 years ago

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Sweaty Betty’s

Summary: After your convocation, you head to a bar with a group of friends to celebrate finally being done with school.

Author’s Note: Not really much to say, other than I’m procrastinating doing my homework and my other series. I’ve learned my lesson from Hard Not To Notice and I split this one into two parts. BUT IT WILL ONLY BE THE TWO PARTS. I’ll eventually get back to writing my It Had To Be You series because that thing needs… something. But for now, here we are, with this Freddie Andersen imagine. So, I hope you enjoy this short little writing -- I have another angsty one in mind that I might write but we’ll see.

Warnings: fluff, drinking, some swearing, drunk fighting, smut in second part so there’s some hard fluff at the end to lead into it

masterlist

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

“Congratulations to the Class of 2019!” Lindsay, the class valedictorian, exclaimed, “Go out and live the best lives you can because it’s our turn now!” Everyone threw their caps into the air without caution and you quickly left your seat to find your friends, whose names were, haplessly, alphabetically opposite yours; embracing them in a tight group hug when you finally found them.

“WE GRADUATED!” Your best friend, Charlie, shouted into the group hug

“Can you believe it?!” you said, disbelief coating your words

“Not one bit,” another one of the girls, Blaire, added, making the rest of the group laugh, “but we did it guys. We’re done! No more assignments. No more midterms. No more finals, no more group projects!” Everyone laughed before eventually breaking up the hug, trying to decide what the plan was for the rest of the day

“I have lunch with my family,” you said pointing to your Mom and brother as they waited for the crowd to disperse around them, “my grandparents are coming into town. Aunts, Uncles, the whole shebang. You have no idea how stressed my Mom is; my Dad keeps bringing her chocolate every five minutes to calm her down…” You laughed and the group shared their plans for the rest of the day. It was a lot of family meals, celebratory drinks and photography sessions -- to which you rolled your eyes and gave a sarcastic remark.

“You know how my parents are,” your childhood friend, Darcy, defended, “they want pictures of everything and they hated those stupid Grad portraits. They figured they’d do it themselves…”

“I know I know, I was just kidding around” you replied before Lindsay came up to the four of you

“There she is! Miss Valedictorian herself!” Blaire shouted, “it was a great speech, honestly”

“Thank you Blaire” Lindsay replied

“We’re so proud of you Linds,” you cooed, bringing her in for a hug, “so what about you? What are your plans for the rest of Convocation Day?”

“We’re going camping…” she said, clearly not wanting to spend her weekend in a tent, “apparently my folks had it planned for months because we’re going to a place that we used to go to when I was a kid. My Dad is stressing out over me leaving to go work in Austin in January that he wants to spend as much time together as a family as we can…”

“It could be fun…” Darcy tried

“Trust me,” Lindsay leaned in, “I’d much rather be getting drunk with you guys tonight to celebrate, instead of being eaten alive by all the bugs…”

“You’ll be fine,” Charlie said, “just keep the bug spray close by.” Lindsay shoved Charlie lightly before saying goodbye to the group reluctantly; your brother coming up behind you and poking you in your sides, forcing you to quickly turn around and smack him

“JESUS BRADY!” you screamed, “how many times do I have to tell you not to do that?!” He laughed, trying to dodge your strikes, before cozying up to Blaire

“So, Blaire, I know the perfect way to celebrate your graduation…” he tried to say the words seductively, “want me to show you?”

“Ew, Brady…” you whined

“I think you need someone to show you how to celebrate…” Blaire said, leaning into Brady, clearly trying to unsteady him, “I’ve got a pretty great arsenal of tricks that I could teach you…”

“Oh yeah?” Brady’s voice cracked, causing Blaire to finally break

“Sorry kid, you’re just a little too young for me,” she put a hand on his shoulder to let him down easy, “you guys have a great lunch, I gotta go. I can see my Dad waving me over. (Y/N), ladies, I’ll see you tonight?”

“Text me,” you said as you gave her a hug goodbye, “we’ll figure out a plan for tonight.” The group gave a collective round of ‘I love you’s’ as Blaire turned and walked toward her family.

“We gotta go too, (Y/N),” Brady nudged you, clearing his throat, “Mom has gone through four boxes of chocolate so far and I can only assume Dad is picking her up some more right now…”

“Okay,” you sighed, “he’s right. I’ll see you guys later, congrats guys!” Another round of hugs were given before you let the group go and you wandered over to your Mom

“My little graduate!” your Mom cooed, pressing a kiss to your cheek and you tried to pull away, whining at her affection. When your Dad finally showed up, the four of you left for the restaurant and waited for the rest of your family to get there. It was a pretty mellow lunch considering how many people were there but it wore you out nonetheless. Your Dad dropped you off at your apartment so you could take a quick nap before the inevitable chaos that would happen later.

“Hey, sweets?” your Dad said before you left the car

“Yeah Dad?”

“I’m so proud of you,” he said and you gave him a small smile. He was easily your favourite person in the whole world but he didn’t get emotional very often, so hearing him say that he was proud of you was incredibly special, “I know I don’t say it very often but I am so incredibly proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. And everything I know you’re going to accomplish”

“Thank you Daddy,” you smiled, trying to hold back your tears, bringing him in for a big hug, “I love you so much. I don’t know how much of this I could’ve done without you; all of the times I was stressed out and thought I was better off dropping out than finishing my degree. You talked me off so many ledges, Dad.”

“It’s all you, baby girl,” he smiled as he pulled back to look at you, “a few words from me here and there to help you through sure, but you’re the one with the brains. You’re the one who was determined to succeed.” A stream of tears finally left your eyes and you noticed a few fall from your Dad’s as well

“Alright alright, no more crying!” you said, wiping your tears away, “I have to get some sleep, I’m exhausted…”

“I love you, (Y/N)”

“I love you too, Daddy.” You exited his car and wandered toward your apartment building, glancing back at him and waving him goodbye before he drove away. As soon as you got into your apartment, your WIFI connected and you were flooded with texts from Charlie trying to figure out plans for tonight.

“Have you ever heard of Sweaty Betty’s?”

“I heard it’s supposed to be a good place”

“Apparently, they have a big selection of whiskey and you like whiskey”

“Hello?!”

“There’s always like Dance Cave”

“Or I guess Stirling Room…”

“But this Sweaty Betty’s is probably a great place to start and then we can head to Little Italy -- Come See Me?”

“(Y/N)!! Answer me!”

“If you don’t answer me soon, I’m making the decision for us…”

“We’ve never been to the Speakeasy either. Wanna do that instead?”

“Literally we just need a place to get drunk…”

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)!”

“Holy Shit Char,” you finally texted back, “I just got back into my apartment. My data was off and there was no WIFI at the restaurant. You know I’m fine with whatever you pick. I do think though that the speakeasy should be saved for a night when we have like costumes or whatever lol”

“So… Sweaty Betty’s and then Come See Me?”

“I’m good with that? Have you texted everyone else?”

“Blaire said she’ll share an Uber with Darcy so they’ll meet us there probably. But…”

“But what? Who did you invite?”

“Don’t get mad, they wanted to come and they graduated too. Nick and Sam are gonna meet us there..”

“Ughhh! Charlie! Look whatever. Fine. As long as they don’t try to flirt with me or dance with me at any point during the night, I don’t care. They just creep me out. I can’t believe you invited them…”

“Honestly, they overheard me planning it and they kind of invited themselves..”

“Of course they did”

“It’ll be fine! Don’t worry”

“Whatever, okay. I’m gonna have a nap. Am I meeting for pre-drinks or are you coming here?”

“Hmmm, you’re closer to the bar. So I’ll come over to yours and we’ll call an Uber from there!”

“Alright. See you in a couple hours. Love you!”

“Love you babe!”

It must not have been typical bar Tequila that you’d been drinking because four shots in and you were barely able to see straight. At some point, you remember the shots hitting you inexplicably and you told Nick and Sam you didn’t want them around.

“This is supposed to be a celebration but you two are just making it weird,” you slurred, “face it, no one’s fucking you tonight. So why don’t you just go home...”

“There’s no need to be a bitch, (Y/N)...” Nick said, anger in his voice, masked only by embarrassment and you tried to fix it

“I.. I’m sorry.. I don’t kn-- I think I’m gonna be sick…” You held your hand over your mouth as you tried to maneuver through the crowd, noticing Sam storm off and Nick follow close behind him; all of a sudden you were filled with an overwhelming sense of guilt -- which was soon overpowered by the Tequila you were currently puking up. You had never been this bad before; not since your 18th birthday when your cousin, Mary, decided that she would show you the proper way to get drunk, not realizing her limits were vastly different from yours. A few glasses of water should make you feel better, so you cleaned yourself up in the mirror and gathered yourself enough to head back to Charlie and the girls.

“There she is” Blaire teased

“Can I get a glass of water please?” you asked the bartender, returning a quick Thank you when he placed the glass in front of you. It was gone almost instantly so, you asked for another before your friends got annoyed

“You can’t just stop drinking!” Darcy complained, “none of us drove. Which means none of us are the designated driver. None of us have to be group Mom tonight. The whole point is that we’re celebrating our graduation… We’re here to get drunk; fucked up!”

“Yes, Darce, I know,” you laughed, “but I just threw up, which means I need to add in some water.” You finished your second glass of water and then continued on with the night; laughing with your group of girlfriends, flirting with some strangers they brought into your circle and slowly added more cocktails into your repertoire.

“So ladies, what are your plans for the rest of the night?” one of the guys asked, leaning in close to Blaire who was not having it

“Girls night” she mocked

“We just graduated so we’ve got a lot planned” Charlie added

“Oh congrats on graduating!” another one of them said, “maybe we can help you celebrate.” You rolled your eyes at his comment and noticed Darcy mockingly put her finger down her throat before turning to the bartender to order a drink.

“Vodka tonic please” you heard her say

“I’ll grab a double Stoli cranberry” you said as you popped beside her

“These guys are so painfully obvious” she joked and you smiled

“If only Charlie weren’t so painfully hard up” you teased about your BFF

“I hope she doesn’t go home with one of them just yet, I do still want us all to celebrate together”

“We will! Don’t worry. Down the drink and we’ll get another” you mewed, giving her a wink. A few hours later and the drinks were starting to hit the girls in different ways; you couldn’t stop giggling, Blaire was looking for food, Charlie was kissing every stranger she came in contact with and Darcy was trying to convince everyone to dance with her. None of you realized how late it was until you contemplated heading to a club to dance.

“It’s too late for that, Darce…” Charlie whined, “we’d have to get an Uber and like.. find it…”

“We can go to a club tomorrow night,” you tried to compromise, “we’ll sober up and we’ll head to Come See Me first and just kinda stay there…” Darcy just frowned at you and you frowned back, feeling guilty that she hadn’t gotten to dance all night like she was promised; you dragged her out to a small clearing at the side of the bar to try and dance to the music that blared through the bustling bar. While the two of you were dancing, Charlie had invited a group of guys to surround her and Blaire, Charlie’s laugh permeating the crowd before it reached you.

“She doesn’t stop does she?” Darcy laughed

“Here, you go see what that’s about,” you nodded in your friends’ direction, “I have to pee…” You wandered to the washroom, staring at yourself in the mirror after washing your hands and tried to sober enough to talk to these strangers. You couldn’t say it was something you cared too much about but, on the off chance Charlie fell for one of these guys, you’d be damned if they only saw you as the drunk, rowdy best friend for the rest of your life. When you made your way back to the bar where Blaire, Charlie and Darcy were surrounded by four toned guys, you scooted past everyone to order yourself a drink instead of introducing yourself to anyone. That’s when he leaned into you and your breath never left your throat.

“Having a good night?” a tall red-head smiled in your direction and your eyes danced across his face, trying to find someway to speak, “I’m Freddie by the way.” His hand was nearly the size of your head and it took all of your composure to lift your hand up to shake his; slow and only slightly awkward. The girls around you had all paired off with a guy, even Darcy which surprised you more than you thought it would. You were brought back to Freddie, though, when he handed you the drink you ordered.

“Oh thank you,” you said shakily, “I’m (Y/N)...”

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N)” He returned, smiling down at you, making your cheeks flood with heat and you dropped your eyes to the floor so he wouldn’t see. It wasn’t long, however, until his hands found their way onto your hips and your eyes darted back to his; sure to never tear them away unless absolutely necessary.

Freddie’s P.O.V.

You wondered where she had been your whole life. This (Y/H/C) haired girl with the brightest smile you’d ever seen and eyes that sparkled like stars. She hadn’t spoke yet, so you weren’t sure what the melody of her voice would be but you imagined it would be mesmerizing. You finally introduced yourself to her, thinking she’d do the same, holding her hand while you waited but her attention seemed to go to her friends instead. You watched as her eyes scanned the group of your friends and hers when her drink came to be in front of you.

“Oh thank you” she said softly and you straightened your posture, “I’m (Y/N)”

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).” You noticed a slight tinge of pink stain her cheeks before she dropped her eyes to the floor and you just wanted to see those beautiful eyes sparkle again; placing your hands on her hips. She looked up at you with such intent that you couldn’t bear to tear your eyes away from hers. She was the one to finally break the eye contact

“So… what do you do, Freddie?” she asked with a shy smile, tucking some hair behind her left ear

“I’m a goalie” you said, trying not to mention your team and gauge her reaction when you noticed her eyes grow a little wide

“Oh no…” she giggled, “you’re not crazy are you?” You laughed at her response before shaking your head

“I don’t think so, no”

“Okay good, ‘cause my brother plays goalie in his little local league and he’s kinda, you know,” she joked, “he’s a little crazy. I mean you have to be just a little crazy right?”

“I mean, sure, yeah, to have hockey players and pucks flying at you…”

“Right!” she laughed, her smile beaming, and you couldn’t take your eyes off her but she was started to drift away from you; her shyness creeping up to her so you leaned in to talk to her

“What about you?” you asked

“Me? I don’t play sports. No I would fall over myself and get a concussion for sure…”

“Is that so?”

“Painfully.” You laughed and finished your beer, ordering another before you asked (Y/N) what she did for a living

“I’m a student.. Well I just graduated, we all did. That’s why we’re here..” she said, before looking at her friends flirting with yours and she laughed, “I guess now I have to find a job with my degree”

“Well I’m sure that won’t be hard. What degree?”

“Early Childhood Education, with a double minor in Psychology and Music Studies. It was kind of a bitch to get through but I’ve always loved kids and music has a way of... as cheesy as it sounds... really helping people. So I thought why not combine everything and give the kids their best chance?”

“Wow.. I’m surprised,” you said and noticed her face contort, forcing you to backpedal, “no no, I just mean, you have an idea where you want to go and what you want to do”

“Sort of, not really. I just graduated today so I haven’t thought too much about it.” After a while, you realized that you hadn’t introduced (Y/N) to anyone, so you brought her over to everyone; your hand on the small of her back

“(Y/N), this is Auston, Willy and Connor, guys this is (Y/N)”

“Nice to meet you” they said together and she reciprocated the statement before her friend interrupted the conversation by pulling Willy in for a sloppy kiss

“Oh jeez” she said before bursting into a fit of laughs

“Why don’t we go find a place to sit down?” You said, leaning down to speak in her ear

“You really think we’ll be able to find something?” she asked looking around the crowded bar and you took her hand to lead her through the space. Once you found a partly empty couch, you asked if she was okay sharing the space and she nodded; you sat down next to the couple that was busy making out and she sat down next to you, unintentionally tucking herself in, “oh gosh, I didn’t realize how low this was. I’m sorry..” Her face was flustered as she tried to put some space in between the two of you but you didn’t mind; damn she was cute, and it took more of your willpower not to lick your lips as your eyes danced around her face

“It’s okay. How are you feeling?” you checked in and she looked up at you before smiling

“I’m good,” she said with a laugh on her tongue, “I’m feeling a bit of a buzz but not too much where I feel like I’ll get sloppy”

“Well that’s good,” You laughed before looking down at your lap, catching a glimpse of a tattoo on her inner knee and you grazed your thumb over it gently, “what’s this?” She seemed to be embarrassed about it and she pushed your hand away so she could cover it

“We were -- I was drunk… It was a long night and an even longer story” she blushed and you told her that you didn’t mind; you had time to listen, and she sighed heavily before agreeing to tell you, “don’t judge me okay?” you nodded, allowing her to continue, “Charlie and I had just come from her ex’s Frat House, it was a big end of semester party and he broke up with her because he claimed ‘she was only good once’ and she was rightfully pissed. So, we got drunk, flirted with some horribly misogynistic Frat bros, who we’re almost positive were trying to put something in our drinks, and then peaced when Charlie realized her ex wasn’t paying her any attention. We passed by a tattoo parlour that for some reason was still open and we begged the tattoo artist to give us a tattoo. Charlie started crying when he said we were too drunk and she turned to me and gave me that look that best friend’s give. The one that says ‘do this for me because I really need it right now’ and I was too drunk to argue, so I told the guy that we just wanted to do something dumb because we hated the guys in our life, and if he gave us a tattoo…” she scrunched up her face before continuing the story

“What?” you asked, egging her on

“God, it’s awful to even think back on”

“You gotta tell me. I said I wouldn’t judge”

“Ugh,” she groaned, “I said if he gave us a tattoo, he could put it anywhere he wanted…”

“The tattoo right?”

“Yes! That’s what it was supposed to be but, because I was so drunk, it came out all sexual and he jumped at the chance. He sat down and asked us what we wanted and where and I looked at him kinda confused at that point. I said ‘we’ll get matching tattoos I guess?’ and expected him to pick a spot and for Charlie to pick the tattoo; still not realizing that he didn’t take what I said how I meant him to take it and then Charlie passed out!”

“What happened then?”

“He yelled at me! He was all, what the fuck is this? What kind of guy do you think I am? I got super confused and said all we wanted was a tattoo and that we weren’t picky about the location. Then he seemed to get pissed and he started tattooing Charlie’s knee and told me ‘they had to match’ so I sat down on a different table while he did mine…” it was at this point that she showed you the small tattoo, “I got bitch, she got slut. I have no idea why he chose the inner knee but it’s easy enough to hide. And it’s quite the story…”

“Holy crap, so what happened when Charlie woke up and saw the tattoo?”

“She wasn’t happy about it. I mean who wants slut permanently on their skin? But when she saw mine, and I told her what happened, she was grateful that I didn’t just leave her. She said it would’ve been super easy to just abandon her or let her have an embarrassing tattoo on her own but the fact that I got just as embarrassing of a tattoo proved that we really were best friends…”

“That’s actually really sweet”

“It’s the most embarrassing moment of my life. No one else knows, not even Blaire or Darcy. They’ve never seen the tattoo’s. So, consider yourself lucky…” She laughed and you leaned in closer to kiss her but she moved away

“I didn’t mean..” you stammered

“No.. I know, I’m sorry. I just… tell me something about you,” she quipped, “I don’t know anything about you. Other than you’re a goalie…”

“Professional goalie” you clarified and she nodded with a small smile

“Right. For any team I might know?” she asked and here was the moment you were dreading. You had never tried to hide the fact that you were The Leafs goaltender before but you’d also never been faced with a situation where someone in Toronto didn’t recognize you. Being a 6’4” red-headed goalie in the NHL often meant you got recognized wherever you went. But when you realized she didn’t know you or the guys, you didn’t want her view of you to change. The night was going so well and telling her this could go one of two ways; either she hangs all over you, changing the way she’d been acting all night, or she acts like it’s no big deal. You were really hoping for the latter… “Freddie?” Her voice rang through to you and you realized you hadn’t said anything in about a minute

“Sorry,” you smiled awkwardly, “Toronto…”

“What?” she said confused

“I’m the Leafs goaltender…”

“Oh..” she said quietly, looking at her empty glass before looking back up at you, “wow.” You weren’t sure how to respond to her almost lack of response, forcing you to lean back against the couch and sigh to yourself, “I’m sorry,” she said finally, laughing a little, “that’s probably not what you were looking for. I’ve never met a professional athlete before and I don’t really know.. the protocol? Plus, I grew up a Habs fan, so my brother would kill me if he knew I was talking and drinking with a Leaf…” You let out a sigh of relief before laughing at her words

“There’s no protocol, just talk like we were already talking. No need to bring up work…”

“You wanna dance?” she asked, placing her glass on the side table as you agreed, following her to a clearing just past your intertwined group of friends. There wasn’t a lot of space to dance and, in hindsight, it might have been better to find a spot on the patio to dance. But there was a group of people dancing so it’s not like it was something you shouldn’t do and the music was high energy, making you think that they wanted people to dance and have a good time. You and (Y/N) were laughing at how equally out of sync you were with the music before she eventually wrapped her arms around your shoulders to sway with you; you spun her around a few times, causing her to laugh brightly and bump into you on her return. The only trouble came when (Y/N)’s friends came over with the guys to dance near the two of you and they got really animated, mockingly singing along to the songs and grinding on each other.

“I’m sorry about them…” (Y/N) apologized for her friends, her arms still around your shoulders and you looked down at her with a smile

“It’s okay, they’re having fun.” You were surprised when she pulled you with her as she backed away from the group to continue you dancing. She twirled once and laughed when she lost her footing, just missing bumping into someone and you pulled her into you to catch her from falling; her eyes locking onto yours as the music seemed to beg for your lips to touch.

“AHHH” she let out a breathless scream as a stranger had spilled his cold drink down her back

“Watch it bitch” he yelled at her and you tried to push past (Y/N) to challenge him but when she apologized quietly, you let it go.

“Are you okay?” you asked

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I’m just gonna go see if I can dry some of this with the hand dryer” she laughed, walking toward the bathroom; you stood near the door, waiting for her to come out.

“Fred, she’ll be fine. Come wait by the bar,” Willy called to you, “want a drink?” You hesitantly went to the bar to join the group, ordering a beer when you got there. It wasn’t long before you noticed the guy who spilled his drink on (Y/N) whispering with his friends and you couldn’t help but think that they were planning something. When Auston noticed you staring, he followed your line of sight

“Freddie…” he yelled to you, “what’s up?” you didn’t answer, instead kept your gaze locked on them when you heard the door open and noticed (Y/N) come out; stepping in front of her before another drink could be spilled on her.

“Freddie…” you heard (Y/N) whisper from behind you

“Well that’s not the wet t-shirt we wanted to see…” the group of drunk guys laughed and you noticed Freddie’s jaw clench; you grabbed his arm to stop him from starting a fight but it really didn’t do much since your touch was so light

“You think you’re funny?” he yelled, closing the gap between the two of them

“Actually, yeah, I think I’m hilarious” the guy countered

“Why don’t we see how funny it is when it happens to you.” It was meant to be threatening but it didn’t really have the effect that Freddie wanted and you could see him getting frustrated when the guys laughed him off

“What are you gonna do about it, Ed Sheeran?”

“That the best you got?”

“I hear Gingers have no souls. That true?”

“Sounds like you wanna find out.”

“Come at me bro”

“Freddie it’s not worth it, okay, they’re drunk. Just leave it…” you tried

“Now that I’m looking at her, I’m not sure I really would’ve wanted to see her tits” one of the guys laughed, another one chiming in right after

“Me either, guess we dodged a bullet…” The group of guys were met by a fit of laughter from each other and Freddie smiled sarcastically at them before looking at you to gauge your reaction. You weren’t sure what he took from the look on your face but you hoped that you were portraying a look that said ‘please don’t’

“You’re a real group of bros aren’t ya?” he said sternly and the guys seem to stick up their chins, “I bet you make all the girls swoon, you know, when you try?” You weren’t entirely sure where this was headed, and you could tell his friends didn’t either, so you kept your hand on his arm, “I bet most of you are single, huh?”

“By choice” the group grunted and Freddie laughed

“Not by your choice though, right?” he mocked, “see, when you don’t respect women, women don’t respect you… And you, my friends, need to learn some respect”

“What do you expect us to do, Grandpa? Apologize,” one of the guys laughed, “I’m sorry your chick is such a bitch and a cow but she should really make space--” His speech was cut short by Freddie punching him square in the eye and you let out a gasp and tried to stop him from going too far

“Freddie STOP!” you yelled but the guy hit back, connecting with Freddie’s face, and it took all of your strength to drag Freddie away before security kicked you all out

“BACK OFF, YOU FUCKING GIANT!” the one yelled

“Tough guy can’t take a fucking hit huh? What’s wrong, bro?” Freddie taunted. You were beginning to panic when Blaire motioned to the door, signalling she had called an Uber

“Freddie, please, let’s just go. Please…” you begged, still pulling on his arm. He looked back at you and realized what he must look like to you. He followed you out of the bar to the line of cars lined along the sidewalk and you tried to find the Uber that was waiting for Blaire.

“It’s this one love,” Blaire called out to you and Freddie, talking to the driver while the two of you made your way to the car. Blaire confirmed your address with the driver and gave you a hug goodbye as you got into the car with Freddie. It was quiet for a bit, so much so that your driver turned on the music to lessen the awkward silences; forcing you to look at Freddie with a smile. You noticed his fists were still clenched and his eye was cut.

“Here, let me take a look at you,” you said softly, shifting your body to face him, pulling his face closer to yours gently, “does it hurt?”

“No,” his voice was harsh and you thought that maybe he didn’t want to be touched, so you eased back, “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I just hated the way they were talking about you…”

“They’re just dumb boys who had way too much to drink…”

“But they shouldn’t have talked like that. It’s not okay…” He grabbed your hand, turning his body to you, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thank you,” you smiled, almost to yourself, “for defending me. It’s funny, you know, me and Darcy talked about this a couple days ago…”

“Talked about what?”

“She asked me what I would do if two guys ever fought over me…” you giggled, looking back at Freddie, “yeah this isn’t the exact thing she was thinking of, but it’s pretty close…”

“And you told her…?”

“I said I didn’t think I’d be into it. It’s too much ‘peacocking’ for me,” you admitted but when you saw Freddie’s face fall, you tried to explain, “I didn’t think it would be fighting over me to defend me, if that makes sense? I thought if two guys were fighting over me, it would be something… else… I’m not really sure what. But I don’t know, I liked that you stuck up for me. You didn’t have to, especially if it meant getting into a fist fight, but I appreciate it…”

“I couldn’t just let it happen without at least trying to make it right…” he whispered, “I guess I should’ve known it wouldn’t end well”

“Eh, what’s one small cut?” you smiled, examining the mark on his eyebrow, noticing the skin around it begin to purple. It wasn’t long after that you were dropped off at your apartment building

“Can I just order an Uber and you’ll accept my ride? Does that work?” Freddie asked the driver

“Hold on, wait,” you said abruptly, “what are you doing?”

“Getting a ride home?”

“You’re not coming to say goodnight?” you pouted and watched as Freddie exited the car slowly; the Uber driving off without hesitation, knowing Freddie wasn’t in need of his services; a small smile dancing on your lips. You took Freddie’s hand and led him to the door of your building, laughing when you stumbled occasionally on seemingly nothing, trying not to disturb your neighbours but fearing that you were most likely failing.

“How much farther?” Freddie chuckled from behind you, placing his large hands on either side of your waist to steady you, “should I be carrying you?”

“No no, it’s just a little further..” you said, “unless you want to carry me?” The smile that arose on your face was mirrored quickly on Freddie’s and he jokingly leaned down to pick you up, forcing a loud squeal to escape you and you quickly covered your mouth in embarrassment. When you finally got to your apartment, you turned your key slowly, unsure of how the night would proceed, and gestured for Freddie to come inside once you were in. You noticed him wander around your apartment, looking at the pictures on the walls and the many decorative throw pillows strewn over your couches and chairs, before finally taking a seat

“So, I take it you like pillows?” he joked, making you smile from the kitchen where you stood filling two glasses of water

“I get it from my Mom I think…” you admitted, “she always put out two or three Christmas pillows on every couch in the house during the holidays and then she started finding really punny ones for Halloween, so the whole house was practically bursting in pillows by the time I turned 10. She gave me a couple but I ended up getting some for my dorm anyway, before I moved in here two years ago. When I unpacked I noticed that I had more pillows than couch space.” You laughed uncomfortably as you sat next to Freddie, angling your body until your knees just barely brushed his and waited for him to speak

“I like them. It makes the space feel… homey. Cozy.” He smiled to which you responded brightly, claiming that’s exactly what you were going for. The two of you burned through a few topics rather quickly, laughing here and there when he told you about an ex girlfriend in Denmark and you told him how much your brother used to torment you, regardless of you being the older sibling. You sobered up after the numerous glasses of water you’d had but you didn’t want the night to end or, rather, Freddie to leave. Carefully, you moved closer to him as to not startle the situation but you also didn’t want to push your luck; thinking maybe you’d embarrassed yourself so much tonight that any sudden actions may cause Freddie to think lowly of you. To your surprise, he moved his arm to the back of your couch, allowing you to move even closer to him and your heart began to race; having gone all night without having his lips grasp yours shocked you and, you thought to yourself, it was about time to right that wrong.

You wanted to push forward into him but, for some unknown reason, your head told you to stop, as if to say, “be a lady, (Y/N), don’t be desperate…” It seemed to discourage your thoughts on allowing the night to proceed the way you expected it to. Freddie, it seemed, did not approve of this as he wanted the kiss and the expectation of the night as much as you did; however, he seemed to gauge your uncertainty and moved slowly towards your lips, pushing you closer to him by pressing his hand on your back, between your shoulder blades; his breath was warm as it brushed across your skin and through your hair, suddenly his hands were on your hips and yours had snaked up to linger on his neck. You couldn’t control your breathing anymore and the heat in your face must clearly be showing now, this waiting was becoming painful and, unintentionally, you moaned Freddie’s name, leading him to finally brush his lips against yours lightly; his tongue eventually finding yours and dancing with it slowly.

It wasn’t long before the kissing became harsh and much more sloppy, encouraging you to straddle Freddie; your hands lingering on his chest while you returned to capture his lips and continue dancing your tongue alongside his. When Freddie’s large hands gripped your hips tightly, likely leaving bruises on your delicate skin, your hands snapped to the back of his head to pull at his loose ginger curls. His lips travelled from your lips to your collarbone and hesitant moans escaped your throat as your nails dug into Freddie’s shoulders, marking his skin with small crescent moons underneath his shirt; moving him to lift you up and carry you through your apartment until he found an open door, not caring whether there was a bed in it or not. He’d just as soon place you gently on the floor or up against the wall if there was no mattress.

“Mmm” you hummed before directing him into the right room where he climbed onto your bed with you still wrapped tightly around his body until you felt the fabric of your duvet underneath you. Quickly, your hands found the hem of Freddie’s t-shirt, passing the soft fabric between your fingers for a few seconds before pushing it up, forcing Freddie to lift his arms to allow the shirt to move above his head and, subsequently, onto the floor.

“Do you have a condom?” He breathed into your ear as he continued kissing your neck and you honestly couldn’t remember. The last time you had sex was in January, just before winter break had ended and you were forced to return to classes.

“Uhmm…” you hummed nervously, tracing circles on his chest before he caught your eye and asked if something was wrong, to which you assured him everything was fine but, “we’ll have to search the apartment.. but that might ruin the mood..” Freddie pursed his lips and studied your eyes silently

“What are you thinking?” he asked you and you just smiled before pressing your lips back onto his

“Just that I like the way your lips taste,” you kissed him once more, “and the way they feel across my skin. And I wonder how the rest of you would feel against the rest of me…”

#Frederik Andersen #Freddie Andersen #Frederik Andersen Smut #Freddie Andersen smut #masterlist #TML smut #TML imagine #Frederik Andersen Imagine #Freddie Andersen imagine

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