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britcision · 6 months ago

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And part two! So a good chunk of the reason the chapter got so long is that around halfway through this part I realized… Danny and Jason didn’t have a single scene together

And we can’t have that!

And then they just kept being adorable

So this is my promise to y’all that whenever possible, we will have at least one scene of the lads directly interacting every chapter 😁

Part 1:

—————————

The Finished Core part 2

Jason was stable, his core fully formed for a little less than a month, and they’d hung out and done ecto shots until midnight last night. Danny had no homework due, but would be starting a big project by the end of the week. His schedule wouldn’t be this empty for at least another two months.

And if he delayed beyond that. He’d either never do this, or have to explain to Jason what he was doing, because Jason would probably ask.

Jason being unavailable tonight (something big was going on with his library project, which Danny thought was just adorable) was actually why Danny had to do it now.

Because Jason would want to come with him. And, as fraught as his relationship with Bruce Wayne obviously was, Danny was pretty sure it wasn’t “have a good reaction to hearing about Danny’s evil alternate self killing him” bad.

And. Y’know. The end of the world thing.

And that Danny wanted to put him on parole.

That was all gonna be way too complicated for Danny to explain easily, so he had to go talk to Nocturn tonight. While he could do it alone.

Because maybe “here is my formerly evil alternate self” would sound so much better all the problems would just melt away.

Whatever. That was Future Danny’s problem anyway, which was okay because Dan’s timeline divergence was now very firmly in the past.

Dan wasn’t the Ghost King. He should be comparatively harmless.

Danny wasn’t thinking about how comparatively harmless he’d been when he stuffed Dan into a thermos.

Sucking in a bolstering breath, he floated up to the deceptively simple door to Nocturn’s lair and knocked.

Waiting to be let in was a formality; technically Danny could have ripped open a portal right into the heart of Nocturn’s lair and there was nothing the Lord of Dreams could do about it, but. Nocturn had done him a favour. Danny was trying to be cool.

There was a long enough wait that he almost wondered if he should just push in, show that he wasn’t fucking around either, but then the door swung open.

Nocturn was waiting for him just inside, his white jester’s mask arranged into placid servility that Danny didn’t buy for a moment. Tendrils of night curled around him, swaying ever so slightly but tucked in close. He clearly didn’t want Danny too deep in his lair, and Danny decided to respect that, coming in just far enough for the door to close behind them.

Technically, it’d put him in Nocturn’s power, if he wasn’t the Ghost King. The whole Zone was his lair if he wanted it to be.

Nocturn inclined his head gracefully, his voice smooth and impassive as he spoke.

“You desire something, my king?” He asked carefully, and Danny hesitated.

He didn’t like doing the whole… thing. Would have preferred not to need it. But if they were standing on ceremony…

It was barely a thought before the Crown of Fire formed above his head, the silhouette of the crown itself fading in before it caught with spectral green flames, that themselves were overwhelmed by creeping spires of diamantine frost.

The cape spilled down from his shoulders, its folds lit with galaxies and nebulas far grander in scale than Nocturn’s own star-speckled form. There was no weight to it, and no wind, yet it rippled and swayed anyway, plucked by solar currents.

Danny consciously cut the change off there. Any of the armour or other regalia could be taken as a challenge, and while Nocturn was just as unwilling to actually become the King personally, it’d make him cranky. And Danny needed another favour.

“Yes, Dream Lord. It’s… it is about the charge I placed in your care. The one who sleeps in the Evermoving Now.” Ancients, Danny felt like an idiot every time he had to talk like this. He was sure he sounded like a particularly cheesy “historical” fantasy, and had to consciously avoid slipping into an awful British accent.

Maybe he should have brought Jason. Jason could have made it sound cool.

Danny’s best guess at formality was “no contractions”. Jason actually knew courtly manners from the Elizebethans to the Tokugawa shogunate.

At least it wasn’t like Nocturn expected better from him. He simply nodded, his expression unchanging.

“He is still sleeping, my king.” A flicker of annoyance skated across his face, gone before it was even there. “He is… not so resistant to my power as you are, but still exerts his own demands upon what dreams he will tolerate.”

Yeah, Danny had figured. Dan had damn near Ended his universe’s Nocturn, and he’d had to give Nocturn a chunk of his own power as the King to keep him safe enough to work on Dan at all. Keeping people unconscious was not usually in the Dream Lord’s power.

Honestly, Danny had been kinda hoping that all the time just in Soup Jail… the thermos might have made Dan a little more. Well. Not nicer? But. Less fussy about distractions.

He returned the nod a little awkwardly, offering a smile that he hoped wasn’t too sheepish.

“Yeah… yes. I was afraid of that. But… I want to speak with him. Perhaps make him a little more… amenable to your gifts. And maybe take him off your hands entirely, if all goes well.”

That did provoke a reaction, an eyebrow raising as interest lit Nocturn’s red eyes. Dan must be a real pain in the ass.

“It… can be arranged,” he said slowly, scanning Danny up and down for the first time. Looking for what, Danny wouldn’t even guess, but whatever it was he had no idea if Nocturn found it.

Danny nodded again, fighting the urge to fidget.

“Great… yeah. Yes. Good. Obviously not in physical forms, given his confinement, but.” He drew himself up, thinking back to all the shows he’d been watching with Jason over the last two weeks. Not many kings, but all sorts of stuffy nobility.

He tried to call up his best Liz Bennet.

“I would have you link our dreams, so that he need not wake, and we may speak entirely in your realm. Tomorrow night. Ah… I will… let you know how it goes?” He trailed off, and Nocturn let out a huff which might have been amusement or irritation.

Danny wasn’t gonna push for an aura read to check. He didn’t wanna know.

“I presume, my king, that I need not care how it goes until you ask that I remove him from my dreams. And in exchange for this…” he let the sentence hang, not actually asking for anything.

Technically, Danny didn’t have to give him anything. He could make it a Command, with the whole weight of the Infinite Realms behind his order. Nocturn would have no choice but to obey.

But he didn’t want to be a tyrant. And he’d expected to have to give something, and he’d come prepared.

A real, not entirely nice smile pulled at his lips.

“You must be tired of being confined to the Zone, and having to spend so much of your power catering to Dan’s dreams. For your ongoing service and assistance in this matter, I will give you the power to keep one single human asleep indefinitely, and you can give him any dreams you like.”

Now that definitely got the ghost’s attention, his whole posture stiffening, outline sharpening as he leaned in ever so slightly. There was a very real hunger in his gaze.

“Did you have a human in mind?” He asked, his voice a low hiss of want.

Firmly squashing any trace of discomfort, Danny nodded.

“The Joker.”

Nocturn’s eyes widened, and then a slow and far more genuine smile spread across his lips.

If he were being honest with himself, Vlad certainly hadn’t expected to hear from Wayne again so soon. They’d gotten along delightfully well the day after the gala, right up until Daniel’s little “rescue attempt”, which was just adorable.

Of course, Wayne had insisted any reconcilliation with Timothy or Richard would have to be between them as men, which was annoying. But Vlad could be magnanimous.

Thanks to Danielle and Daniel he was at least vaguely aware of what young people wanted, although Daniel was no longer a teenager. He’d never been a rich teenager though; doubtless the Drake-Wayne boy could afford any consoles or games he desired.

He was vaguely aware that Drake-Wayne was interested in technology, fully up to date with the workings of the company he was now CEO to.

Vlad wasn’t. He didn’t much care for what human technology could do without the boost of ectoplasm; Wayne Tech largely worked in communications devices and medical technology, all of which was easily reverse engineered and improved by Vlad’s own companies to run with ectoplasm.

It would mean far too great a loss to give the boy access to an ectoplasm battery… although if Daniel were cosying up to his brother, they’d have access to ectoplasmic technology soon anyway.

A loss to his corporate dominance, then, in exchange for a gain with his godson. It could only help their relationship if Vlad could endear himself to his future sons-in-law, and perhaps be yet more proof of his good intentions.

Of course, for it to be proof, an older battery wouldn’t have done. The technology remained proprietary, and the ecto batteries never broke down or lost charge (until Vlad wanted them to), so they rarely needed replacing, so Wayne Tech would need to be doing corporate espionage of their own to have any access at all (and be able to get past the little ectoplasmic tricks and traps that continued to befuddle poor dear Luthor’s attempts to steal his technology over at Lex Corp; Vlad did so enjoy reading of the corporate disasters that marked unsuccessful attempts).

A newer model of battery would make for a better gift. And an offer of a deal, to provide more for the next generation of Wayne Tech devices for only a meagre percentage. An apology fit for a king, or the regent of one, complete with diplomatic offers for the future.

Dick Grayson was some kind of police officer. Vlad just bought his department a suite of new computers and a new espresso machine. Simple.

He’d have liked to have it all delivered before he saw “Brucie” next, yet the man had been utterly intent on coming to see him as soon as possible, barely a week after their last meeting when he got in touch. That was unusual; Vlad usually had to be much more proactive to gain access to the kind of person worth overshadowing.

Not that he would overshadow Wayne now. Daniel had staked his claim rather firmly on the whole family, and Lady Gotham was not a spirit Vlad intended to cross. Honestly he was a little surprised she tolerated Daniel cuddling up to her pet socialites, yet the boy was king. She must approve of the match.

(Vlad might wish his own opinion mattered in such a situation, but Jason Todd had provided such a delightful opportunity to prove himself to Daniel that nothing else could touch it.)

Still, it was nice to know that Brucie at least already liked him. He’d made such a touching little speech to Jason at the gala, they simply had to be on better terms than he and Daniel, and hopefully he would also be on good terms with Daniel too by now.

He’d seemed very interested when talking to Vlad and the Mansons, and Vlad had talked up all of Daniel’s best traits; now they would have travelled back to Wayne Manor together and would surely be well acquainted. The man certainly looked enough like Jack Fenton for a sentimental soul like Daniel to get attached.

A slight grimace tugged at Vlad’s face as his limo pulled up to the airport. Really, that was the only downside with Brucie Wayne; it was like hanging out with a slightly more reasonably sized Jack. Intellect and all.

That would be trying over the man’s stay, but he had insisted on putting himself up in a hotel rather than staying at Vlad’s, and if he could just keep the two apart… Vlad reassured himself that the Fentons had gone to visit Jasmine over the holidays, and absolutely couldn’t have returned to town without him noticing.

Which, of course, was a thought as sure to summon Jack Fenton as an unwise wish to summon Desiree.

A large hand clapped across Vlad’s entire back just as he stepped out of the car, making him flinch.

“VLADDIE! Lovely to see ya, buddy! You’re not heading outta town again, are ya! You only just got back!” The man bellowed, and Vlad’s eyebrows twitched.

As if they weren’t both standing in front of the Arrivals lounge.

Perhaps Jasmine was making a late return, anything to avoid sharing a flight with her parents… it certainly couldn’t be Daniel, Vlad would have sensed him long before now. The boy couldn’t help travelling with a spectral fanfare these days.

He forced a polite smile onto his face, moving firmly towards the doors and hoping to lose the man inside.

“No, Jack, I’m here to receive a friend. As you are, I presume? I didn’t realize you were already back from your own trip.” He didn’t really bother listening to the answer, glancing around quickly to see if Madeline was also here. It would be nice to see her briefly…

Jack Fenton laughed boisterously, crowding along behind him far too close for comfort.

“Ah, that’s ol’ Vladdie! Sharp as a pin! Yeah, a colleague called and asked us to outfit some big wig visiting for his first trip to Amity Park! Maddie’s got the Spectre Deflector an’ a couple other toys, he’s some big tech guy from some other city, Gotham or something?”

For a second Vlad thought his ghost sense had somehow missed Daniel; the unmistakeable feeling of ice slithered down his spine. It took a moment to actually pinpoint the cause.

Gotham.

No.

He couldn’t be.

Vlad’s life could not be this cursed.

He’d done nothing to deserve this.

He’d fucking forgotten that Daniel was Jack and Madeline’s son, and had probably given Wayne his parents’ contact information.

He’d actually stopped walking as the impending dread washed over him, Jack leaving him behind by a few paces as they reached the terminal lounge that Brucie Wayne would be entering at any second.

He’d. Tried to emotionally prepare himself. To perhaps set up a meeting between the two parties. Where he could be on the other side of town.

But no, they were all here, and there was Madeline as resplendent as ever in her teal bodysuit, her arms filled with beeping and flashing Fenton junk. His heart still gave a flood of warmth at the sight of her, but that was all.

Just his heart. Not his core, not his Obsession. That was still a bit of a relief, every time. She’d made it quite clear that they couldn’t be friends while he was so fixated on her; on removing Jack.

He caught the moment that she spotted him past the exuberant and loving display she and Jack shared, as if they’d been parted for decades instead of minutes. Managed a small but genuine smile, and settled further when she smiled back.

Reserved, certainly, especially in the wake of her obvious passion. But it was a real smile, and meant far more to him than those she’d faked for Jack’s sake at the height of his mania.

Madeline’s friendship was infinitely more precious than any notion of possessing her, and he had been so lucky to have any left to rekindle by the time he’d finally gotten control of himself. They may never be as close as all three of them had once been in college, but for Madeline he could even smile and embrace Jack.

(Which had become immensely easier when he’d been able to rationalise that Jack Fenton was simply incapable of the intellect, malice, or even comprehension to have killed him. All three of them had worked on the portal; it was simply poor luck that had him take the brunt of the accident and the ecto-acne that followed.

Or perhaps good luck; after all, he was now essentially immortal, rich beyond his wildest dreams, and powerful. He’d finally acquired sufficient leverage to have effective control over the Packers, even if he couldn’t own them outright! He even had Madeline’s son for his godson, and one day the boy might even accept him.

They had all eternity to find out.)

His reluctance waning slightly with Madeline’s company, he made his way to join the couple; he may as well stand beside them, if they’d come for the same man.

Madeline even rewarded him with a handshake, and he easily resisted the brief urge to kiss her hand or try to extend the gesture. He truly was growing and improving all the time.

“Madeline. Jack tells me you are also here for Brucie Wayne? Making sure he’s safe for his visit to our fair city?” He asked cheerfully, nodding to the pile in her arms.

It didn’t even hurt when Madeline shot a beaming smile at her beloved husband.

“Oh! Yes, and of course we simply had to get to know him. Danny’s already told us that Brucie knows about his condition, though we’re never to mention Jason’s of course,” she added sharply, giving her husband a stern look which somehow cleared the ridiculous distance to fly right over his head, then smiled back at Vlad, “but since our boys are getting along so well he’s almost family anyway!”

That was an interesting tidbit which Vlad hadn’t previously been privy to; he hadn’t known just how far Daniel trusted Brucie. Not far enough for the details on his own son, which was… interesting.

Not that Vlad would have said anything; perish the thought. One simply did not out another ghost of any description. It was rude. And would have no benefits for him anyway.

Interesting to know that the man was in on the fact that halfas existed, if not how close he was to one of course. Perhaps he could get some extra points by sharing his own secret?

That would wait until he had some idea of how discrete Brucie was capable of being. Evidence suggested that it would be “not at all”, but… if Daniel had shared his…

It seemed Vlad would need to get more out of this little visit than he’d expected.

As if specifically to disrupt his thoughts, the man of the hour appeared at just that moment, all broad smiles even fresh from a commercial airline of all things. Not even a private jet, yet he still looked freshly composed and perfect even amidst the bedraggled public.

It was frankly unfair, but Vlad didn’t have time to sulk before he had to dodge one of Jack’s massive arms flying into the air to wave, apparently recognising the man on sight as well. It shouldn’t be unusual of Bruce Wayne, yet Vlad highly doubted Jack could have recognised the man a week ago.

Celebrities that were alive were a closed book to all four Fentons, as far as he knew.

“BRUCIE!” Jack bellowed, waving enthusiastically with both arms like he wasn’t head and shoulders taller than the entire rest of the building.

Even Brucie was momentarily taken aback by the sheer size of the man, which Vlad wasn’t remotely bitter about anymore. Then he clocked Vlad beside the Fentons and that perfect, vapid smile slid across his face again.

“Vlad! Won’t you introduce me to your friends?” He asked easily, ever charming as he slid over to join them.

Maddie and Jack began sizing him up immediately, not even waiting to say hello before grabbing at his arms to lift and turn them. Vlad sighed heavily and gave a tight smile of his own, Brucie looking quite alarmed to be manhandled by such a tall man as Jack Fenton.

“Brucie, it’s good to see you again. These are my friends, Drs Maddie and Jack Fenton. I believe an associate of yours has asked them to… outfit you for your stay in our town?” He asked smoothly, not even tripping over the word “friends” anymore.

Not even when it meant Jack. It meant Madeline, and they were a package deal. He’d come to accept that, and the place she’d allowed him in their life. That he only had because Jack had never noticed how their relationship had changed.

Shaking away the thoughts, he refocused on Brucie, who’d turned that so charming smile on the Fentons and was now allowing them to fit him with a Spectre Deflector, one of their wrist lasers, and… well, he had to assume the large and oddly rigid pocket-square had to be another of their new inventions.

Very new, since Jack hadn’t showered him in its praises yet, but he was quite happily trying to sell it to the head of Wayne Enterprises entirely unaware that he’d likely have to get the Drake-Wayne boy to get any actual decisions made.

Brucie did at least look fascinated, and managed to ask just enough questions to keep Jack going. Honestly, if Vlad wasn’t careful Brucie would keep them trapped there all day… although that might not be all bad.

If he could leave the man in the variably capable hands of the elder Fentons, he could at least get some actual work done. Get the details of the battery proposal for Timothy finalized…

Brightening up a little, Vlad clapped his hands.

“Why, I have a great idea! Jack, Maddie, I’m sure Brucie would love to take a quick tour of the portal, to really see what makes our little town special.”

After all, Brucie would certainly want to take the time to get to know Daniel’s other family, and if Vlad could just ensure that all the time he spent with Jack was away from Vlad… well, he’d also have a brief reprieve from them both, guaranteed.

All three of his companions were visibly surprised by the suggestion, with just the faintest flicker of suspicion in dear Madeline’s eyes… for her alone, he gave his best conciliatory smile.

“And I can think of no one better to prepare Brucie for the delights of our little town. They are our pre-eminent ectologists,” he told Brucie, even bestowing Jack with a mostly sincere smile.

As always, he swelled with pride at the compliment, and Madeline’s face softened. She gave a very tiny nod, her approval still chasing the warmth of a summer breeze in his heart. Worth the sacrifice.

That left Bruce, surprised and delighted as ever, smiling with as much thought behind his eyes as a hamster.

“What’s this about a portal? You’ve told me all sorts of tales of ghosts in Amity Park, is that what this is about?”

A bit of a surprise to Vlad that Daniel hadn’t already mentioned it, but the boy had been…. Distracted by Jason Todd. Perhaps it wasn’t so surprising.

Vlad kept his smile bright, clapping his hands.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. Jack gives such wonderful tours. And then perhaps once you’ve finished there and had a look around town, I could take Brucie off your hands for dinner and let you get back to work?” He asked somewhat hopefully.

Small, controlled doses of both mountainous men. That would be fine. It would have to be.

Madeline did truly hesitate, and he knew the passion for her work would be nudging at her. She was a dedicated scientist, as much as she loved their “field work”; too long away from the lab made her itchy.

Jack, of course, didn’t notice, clapping Vlad firmly on the back.

“Nonsense, Vladdie! You just come along down to Fentonworks when you’re done bustling about and we’ll cook you up a Fenton Family Feast along with our guest!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose,” Wayne began as Vlad struggled to think of an argument.

The Fentons having anything even edible in the house was no guarantee, let alone the time to prepare a real meal. He was quite sure they’d been subsisting on ectoplasm alone since before they even recreated the portal.

Unfortunately, knowing Jack, there was only one way out of it.

“My staff have already begun preparing dinner, and I would hate to put all their work to waste,” he said silkily, making a mental note to message his assistant and have her set up something suitable. He’d been planning on a restaurant, but personal plans were harder to change. “And of course if you have the time we would love to have you both over as well.”

He didn’t even have to grit his teeth to finish the sentence, didn’t even have to focus solely on Madeline. It barely even twinged. That old, hateful Obsession would have no power over him.

Proof of his own progress put a more genuine note in his smile too, and Jack beamed back as innocently as ever.

“Aw Vladdie, that’d be great! So, the portal, a tour of Amity Park, and then dinner at Vladdie’s! We can tell you some of those good ol’ college stories from back in the day!” He told Bruce enthusiastically, slapping him on the back hard enough that the man stumbled.

Part of Vlad was beginning to wonder if he should have sent the poor man a warning packet on the Fentons. But then, his boy was courting Daniel. Surely that would have been Daniel’s job, if he’d wanted the man warned.

Brucie looked between them all with that same innocent smile, clearly not following… but he must be used to that.

“Oh, I’d like a chance to get to know the town myself for a little bit… y’know, stretch my legs a bit and get regrounded after the flight. Is there anywhere I could just take a little walk, maybe a look around? This all sounds like real important stuff and if I go in all fuzzy-headed I just know I won’t make heads or tails of it,” he laughed, waving a hand self-deprecatingly.

Vlad hesitated. The Amity Park (and ancients he still hated the name but it was better than Amity Park Park) would be the obvious choice, or perhaps the shopping district would be ideal. Yet since the Fentons were already here…

This time it was his own back that Jack’s meaty paw slammed down on. The only reason Vlad didn’t stumble the same way Wayne had was his resilience as a halfa. And even then it was a close thing.

“Sure, sure! Tell ya what, Vladdie, you run along and get to all your important mayor duties,” Jack tipped Bruce and Madeline a wink, clearly indicating that they were all going to have a lot more fun, “and we’ll take ol’ Brucie down to the park! And then when you’re feeling better we’ll get you right to Fentonworks for the portal tour and some of Maddie’s famous fudge! It’s a secret family recipe, there’s nothing better for getting your noodle cookin’!”

Vlad did not sag in relief. He had far too much pride for that. Instead he looked to Wayne for agreement, only raising one perfectly poised eyebrow.

“I hope you won’t think me a poor host if I pass you off so soon…” he trailed off, not quite hinting his own preference. Certainly not obviously enough that Brucie Wayne would notice.

And indeed the man just beamed at him, giving Jack a firm pat on the back too.

“Not at all, that sounds just the thing! Just a couple minutes out in some fresh air away from that tube and I’ll be right as rain! We’ll see you again at dinner, Vladdie?” He added with that far too charming smile, immediately picking up on the nickname.

That. Was pretty much the biggest thing Vlad had been hoping to avoid. His smile strained a little around the edges.

“That sounds perfect, Brucie.”

At least he’d have a little time alone to recompose himself.

Danny… dithered. That was the only way Jason could think to describe it. He’d been in an odd mood since he’d called that afternoon, and while Jason was getting used to Danny completely forgetting to mention important things, this looked like the opposite.

And given what he’d just blurt out apropos of nothing, whatever had him opening his mouth and abruptly reconsidering couldn’t be good.

He’d texted and said he needed to talk to Jason about something important (a message that totally never caused any additional anxieties), and then called the minute his last class ended (which was so much more reassuring), but when Jason dropped by the university to pick him up… Danny insisted they go grocery shopping.

So now here they were, an hour later, and Danny was reading the full nutritional information on every box of cereal.

Finally running out of patience, Jason plucked the Frosted Berry Crunch Whatever from his hands and tossed it into the cart. Danny was already protesting as he turned, but Jason and the cart had a head start up the aisle.

“C’mon, your highness, we’re putting at least two vegetables in here and then we’re going home.”

Because see, Jason knew what decision paralysis was like. He knew what brain fog was like. He also knew what procrastinating was like, and there was only so much he was willing to put up with it.

Especially when he was beginning to suspect that the tingling at the base of his skull had less to do with Danny being accidentally ominous, and more to do with Danny possibly actually being in danger.

What the hell in Gotham could lay a finger on the half-dead king of ghosts? Malnutrition, sure, given the state of their cart, but Jason didn’t think that was it. He’d have been summoned by the contents of the dorm fridge alone if it were that simple, weeks ago.

If Bruce had still been in town, he’d have suspected that asshole was up to something, but he’d flitted merrily away to Amity Park. Which… was still concerning, but Jason figured that his magic knight sense or whatever would at least give him some sense of how immediate the danger was.

This didn’t feel distant, like something all the way in Bumfuck, Idaho. This felt close, immediate, and the way Danny was acting? Only made him more sure.

Which meant the threat to Danny was probably Danny himself, surprising precisely no one and least of all one regent of Time.

So what the hell was Jason supposed to do about it? Other than not put up with the prevaricating.

Obviously Danny wasn’t going to just take it lying down, though. He was already half a Wayne that way.

“Hey! If I’m the king, don’t I get to decide what we do!” He argued half heartedly, still following Jason down the aisle.

Jason stuck his tongue out at him over his shoulder.

“Be grateful I’m letting you pick the vegetables.”

Danny opened his mouth on what was sure to be an utterly scathing retort (not), and was immediately side tracked by something at the end of the aisle. Which he immediately snatched up three boxes of.

“Oh no way I didn’t think these were real! I’m picking these!”

Jason fielded one on its way past, and glared at the cheap cardboard box.

“Lucky Charms pancake mix? Fucking seriously?” He asked incredulously, turning the box to look for nutritional information. Because he liked horror fiction.

(And a little bit to mock Danny’s earlier bullshit.)

Danny snatched the box out of his hand and added another two to the cart on good measure.

“Hey, fuck you, I was craving the hell out of exactly these way back when you went to put Tuck’s name on the gala list! This is a gift from the universe to make up for my shitty life and I will not be denied!” He declared dramatically, even throwing up an arm in full Shakespearian declamation.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Jason scooped up three of the boxes, now turning the sceptical glare on Danny.

“Dude, if you want pancakes that bad, I’ll make them myself. This is just an overpriced marketing gimmick!” He shook one of the boxes for good measure.

Danny snatched that one back right away too and stuck his tongue out at him.

“Listen, I’ll take you up on that too, but I’m getting these! If I only wanted marshmallow pancakes I could make those myself, I need the soulless crunch of Lucky Charms!”

And alright, Jason’s aura reading was definitely still off (at least around Bruce), but he was pretty sure he was getting better at projecting specific words and feelings. Because he managed to project some combination of disbelief and garlic powder hard enough that Danny punched him on the arm.

“That was literally one time!”

“And I don’t want garlic pancakes,” Jason shot back, mildly surprised at how much the punch actually hurt.

Danny stuck his tongue out at him and went for the display of boxes again. Rolling his eyes, Jason scooped the other man over his shoulder instead, hauling him and the cart away.

“Fine, fine! Get your boxes of garbage, you fuckin’ raccoon, but you don’t need the whole stand and we’re leaving,” he declared firmly, one hand still firmly pinning a wriggly fuck and trying not to think about how optional Danny’s bones were.

Danny grumbled something unintelligible but went limp (not no-bones limp though) and let Jason carry him to the cashier. Who smiled as she checked them out, but didn’t comment on Jason unloading the cart or bagging their supplies one-handed.

Danny gave a feeble wriggle of protest, both when they reached the register and when they left, but subsided quickly back into a sulk each time.

Which… convinced Jason that there was something wrong more than calmed him. Danny wasn’t one to miss an opportunity to tussle. Lie low until someone let down their guard, sure. Give up? No.

When Danny even let himself be tossed onto the back of the bike without complaint, Jason made up his mind.

They weren’t going back to the dorms. They were going back to one of his safe houses again. If Danny noticed before Jason pulled into a garage distinctly not near the university, he didn’t comment.

Hell, all he actually said when unloading the groceries was a terribly blasé “so is this a kidnapping then?” To which Jason obviously responded “yes now shut up”.

Luckily there wasn’t much perishable in their bags, and it fit in the slightly beat up fridge that had definitely been washed since the last time he stored human body parts in it (probably).

Danny took his kidnapping with good grace, flopping onto the only slightly beaten up couch to watch Jason fuss over the fridge. In between playing with his fingers.

Because he was definitely still procrastinating.

Leaving everything that wasn’t likely to go off bagged, Jason dropped onto the couch beside him and stuck a finger in his ear.

“Now tell me what the hell you want to talk about.”

Danny hesitated for a moment, visibly torn, and Jason pointedly licked his finger and held it up as a visual threat.

“No bullshit Danny. I was a fucking Robin, I know when some dipshit engineering student is trying to lie to me.”

Danny squirmed a moment longer, but caved when Jason reached menacingly for his ear again.

“Okay, okay! It’s… it’s not actually a big deal, alright? I’m just blowing it up in my head into something it really isn’t, and yeah, being a dipshit.” He gave Jason a self deprecating grin, and Jason gave him the respect of three seconds of consideration.

Then resumed his attack on Danny’s ears.

“That’s not an answer, asshole!”

This time Danny made an actual attempt to fend him off, and Jason was a little surprised by how strong he was. Sure, Danny’d easily hauled him around plenty, but that was when he’d been cooperating.

That was very different from Danny just grabbing his arm and Jason… completely failing to even budge him. He couldn’t even twist free, Danny’s grip was immovable as a rock.

Being hot also wasn’t going to make Jason any less worried, though, so he nobly ignored the way that made his insides squirm. Sobered when he realized that Danny’s smile had faded.

He was worrying his lower lip instead, and let Jason go when he pulled away more gently.

“This is not reassuring,” Jason prodded, settling in to sit beside him.

Danny gave him another attempt at a smile, still far too worried to be convincing.

“Yeah, that’s kinda the problem. I’ve been turning it over in my head all day, and like I said, it’s really not a big deal… but there’s no way to say it that doesn’t make it sound like a big deal.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at that, but did not react further. Because he was a mature adult, who could be calm about things, even when Danny was being an ominous piece of shit.

“Maybe there’s a reason for that?” He offered sceptically, and this time Danny swatted at him with all the force of a baby kitten. Stark contrast from the immovable grip, but Jason wasn’t going to guess why.

“Oh, shut up. Look, it’s just…” he subsided into silence again.

Jason considered him, this time not just with the hyper-observant eye of a Robin, but with his aura too. He was more used to reading Danny, and Danny actually communicated his emotions.

Kinda.

When he didn’t have to use words.

Which Jason wasn’t criticizing for the obvious (massively hypocritical) reasons.

It was confused at first, tangled and muddied on the surface. Jason took a breath too, settling into the silence, and stopped pushing. Let the right feelings come to him.

Regret. Danny regretted saying anything? Regretted letting Jason know anything at all? Little shit.

Guilt. No guess there, really, but Jason knew all about randomized guilt attacks.

Reluctance. And he didn’t need any magical fucking powers to guess that one, thanks. And underneath it all…

Yearning. Fear. That, at least, was more reassuring; Danny did actually want to tell him. And the fear didn’t even catch and snarl at Jason’s core, so he… didn’t think it was a fear of danger.

No points for guessing that either. He was scared of how Jason might react to whatever the fuck he was all knotted up about. Maybe of how he was already reacting; with no fucking clues, Jason couldn’t begin to guess just how concerned he should actually be.

Or what Danny could be afraid that he’d do.

Well, statistically speaking, Danny probably wasn’t scared that Jason would just. Be fucking chill. About whatever this crap was. Because that didn’t usually freak people out, not because Jason wasn’t usually chill about pretty much everything (the Pit’s lack of chill was not his fault and totally did not count).

Taking another breath, a little surprised that it was only the second since, Jason calmed down. Forcibly. Because winding Danny up more wasn’t going to help. He tried to project calm-understanding-acceptance, although he was pretty sure just fucking do it was sneaking in too.

Danny was quiet for another long moment, not even looking in Jason’s direction let alone meeting his eyes. Which was why Jason knew exactly what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

“I’ll… look, I’ll tell you in the morning, alright? Promise.”

Jason rolled his eyes. Like he wasn’t an expert in exactly this kind of shifty bullshit.

“Right, so whatever dumbass shit you’re doing goes down tonight. Good to know,” he snarked back, and Danny tossed both hands into the air.

“The dumbass part is not going down tonight, I don’t even know if I’m going to be doing the dumbass part yet!” He protested. Futilely.

Jason raised an eyebrow at him, waiting a few seconds after Danny had quieted. Just to prove a point.

At least he’d admitted part of it was going to be a dumbass decision. That was a start.

“So what is going down tonight then?” Jason prodded, once Danny was sufficiently squirming.

Danny puffed up his cheeks, clearly considering another smart ass retort, and surprised Jason a little by blowing it all out with a sigh of his own.

“Tonight, I see if it’s even worth trying the dumbass part. I’m not going to be in any physical danger,” he added quickly, raising both hands and rolling his eyes like he didn’t run around the shady parts of Gotham for fun and no profit, “honestly, the worst that’s gonna happen is I have to deal with some home truths. Nothing can hurt me, I’m fine.”

Jason noted the qualifier. Nodded down the hall towards what passed for a bedroom.

“Then you won’t mind spending the night to be sure.”

Not like it’d put him out; he’d not had any plans for the night, beyond more practice on going intangible at will… and more importantly, also becoming tangible at will.

Danny grimaced at their surroundings.

“Dude, this place is a wreck. I don’t even want you spending the night here,” he joked feebly. And deflated a bit when Jason just stared at him. Sighed heavily.

“Look, it’s not gonna make any difference where I sleep, or where you sleep, cuz nothing’s going to happen! That you can do anything about,” he added almost under his breath, and Jason fought back a wave of something hot and green that felt like jealousy-anger-denial-concern-offence all at once.

Because that was different from Danny wanting to run off on his own where Jason couldn’t protect him. That was Danny thinking that Jason wasn’t capable of protecting him. And that hurt.

“So what happens if it all goes wrong?” He asked quickly when Danny flinched, clearly reading all that and more from his aura. Well, tough titties for him, Jason’s pecs were rock hard and they weren’t gonna talk about it.

For a moment, Danny was definitely about to argue. Jason could all but taste the words lining up to be said. Then he sighed and flopped in against Jason, aura a gentle apology that made absolutely nothing better.

“That’s what I’m saying, man. There is literally nothing that can go wrong. I’m gonna go to sleep, I’m gonna have a dream, Nocturn’s gonna hook me up with a favour and then we both wake up in the morning. Nocturn can’t even make me fall asleep or stay asleep, and he doesn’t want the damn crown any more than I do.”

A wry smile tugged at Danny’s lips, and he reached up without looking to poke a finger into Jason’s mouth.

“And even if he did, I can fucking take him. I kicked his ass when I was fourteen and a nobody. There’s literally no risk here… besides hearing something I don’t wanna hear. But hey, what’s life without a little more emotional damage?”

Jason considered this, reasonably and maturely, like an adult, and bit Danny’s finger. With it out of his mouth, he gave the scrawny king another gentle nudge.

He definitely didn’t believe Danny was telling him everything. But he could read enough honesty through everywhere they were touching to know that Danny did also believe everything he was telling him.

“And you’ll tell me everything in the morning?” He prodded warily.

Didn’t actually smile at the wave of relief which coursed through the whole apartment as Danny finally relaxed.

“For sure. And then I’ll decide if I do the dipshit part.”

“We’ll decide,”Jason corrected firmly.

Danny snorted.

“Hey, I’m your king. If I wanna be a dipshit I can be a dipshit.”

“You may be King Dipshit all you want, but you’re not doing it alone,” Jason shot back, reluctantly pulling out a brand new trump card Frostbite had let slip last time. Definitely not smirking as he said it. “So you’ll be bringing a brand new baby ghost into whatever brand of dipshit you’re doing.”

Tensed to argue with whatever he said (although still more playfully than he’d been before), Danny inflated for a moment, then deflated with a hefty sigh and slumped.

“Oh that’s so not fucking fair.”

“I’ll tell Lady Gotham on you,” Jason added for good measure, with a vicious triumph.

“She’ll tell you not to go with me!” Danny protested, still utterly futilely.

Lady Gotham looked after her own. Not one part of that included even vaguely discouraging them from throwing themselves face first into danger.

She’d push him in, if she thought it needed doing.

“No she won’t.”

Danny groaned heavily and lifted himself up solely so that he could flop harder and heavier onto Jason. With, yeah, all the weight of a wet baby kitten. Jason didn’t even give him the satisfaction of a huff of air, which did make him smile even if it was reluctantly.

“Alright, fuck you. Can we stay at one of your good places instead, if we’re still doing totally unnecessary slumber parties? I wasn’t kidding, this is a fucking dump. And I live in a dorm. You coulda mentioned this place when we first started sprucing up your haunt, cuz it desperately needs it.”

And listen.

Robin training.

Lived with Bruce.

Even slightly self aware.

Jason knew exactly what deflection sounded like, even when done far more expertly. It was a choice to let Danny get away with it.

But knight pact or no, Danny was his friend, not his boss. And that also meant Jason wasn’t his dad, or anyone who could actually force him to do anything.

If it actually got Danny staying overnight, he’d do it. Soothe the part of him that fretted even with Danny’s assurances, make it easier to tell him in the morning, give him a chance to try and feed Danny decent pancakes over soulless commercial profiteering? All wins.

So he shrugged.

“Hey, this one’s closest to the campus. You got any morning classes?” He’d been intending to let Danny go back to his dorm (after he talked), so he hadn’t cared that it was one of his less cared for haunts.

For an actual sleepover though? Well, they’d already had one at one of his better places, nearly had another at his actual home. They could go wherever Danny wanted.

Danny made a face like he’d said something weird (or he’d forgotten he had classes), then pulled out his phone to check his schedule.

“Nah, I got a tutorial at eleven thirty but I can probably skip it,” he said a moment later, shooting Jason a wary look. Like he knew there was a trap in Jason agreeing with him, but wasn’t sure how to counter it.

Jason raised an eyebrow at him.

“What class?”

Danny rolled his eyes right back, glanced at his phone again, and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Just Mechanical Engineering. We’ll be starting a major project next week, but I know what I’m doing already and the prof cleared it. You can just drop me off at the dorm if you’re that worried,” he added, slightly smug with this new suggestion.

Jason considered it for a moment, mostly for the theatrics. Then he shrugged. He’d never willingly skipped a class, but it had still happened more than once. But he could still call Danny’s bluff.

“Sure, I’ll bring a pillow and camp out on the floor.” He’d never been back to Danny’s room, largely because other than the bed, there was barely enough floor for Danny to lie down on, let alone someone built like Jason.

Danny’s eyes narrowed, and Jason grinned. Try and bluff a bat; they were the kings of commit to the bit. Jason could and would squish himself to sleep damn near anywhere.

Clearly unable to deny that, Danny finally rolled his eyes and flopped back against the couch cushions instead.

“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. All the groceries are in the fridge,” he added when Jason stuck his tongue out at him.

True, but not an issue. Untangling them enough to get up, Jason made for the kitchen.

“And they’ll go back in the fridge at my place.” He hesitated barely a second, but he’d already made up his mind, hadn’t he? As soon as the subject came up. “The place at the library nice enough for you?”

It was his home. Sort of. His real home, or the one he wanted to be, except that it still didn’t feel like it yet. Because he wanted to keep it nice, clean perfect and unspoiled, so he never really used it.

Having Danny over to watch truly awful sitcoms in the New Year had kinda highlighted that while all his nicest stuff was there, it wasn’t going to be a home until he’d lived in it. And having Danny there had helped start that too.

And sure, it’d be funny to use all the good stuff on Danny; give the world’s most reluctant king the royal treatment.

Little fuck was already pulling faces again, squirming on the couch.

“Man, that place is way too nice… I was scared to touch the floors.”

Which was kinda exactly what Jason had thought too. But he had to get over that part eventually; he could clean pretty much anything up. But living was messy, and apparently only more so for the half dead.

So he flipped Danny off.

“You can float. Just don’t cover anything in garlic powder this time,” he added with a snicker.

Danny flipped him off back, grinning reluctantly.

“And again, fuck you that was one time!” He protested with extra drama.

“Unless you make it a habit,” Jason shot back, restuffing groceries into bags. Danny hesitated a moment longer, then visibly caved.

Felt like agreeing to wait for morning had been the right move. They could both make concessions.

“Alright, but swing by the campus first. I wanna grab a change of clothes for tomorrow, I’m not doing another walk of shame,” he teased with a sly smirk, and Jason’s heart skipped.

For no reason.

Totally unnecessary.

It wasn’t like the memory of Danny running around in his clothes for a day was going to spark anything in him. Wait, actually…

“Yeah, you can grab my shirt too, I need it back,” Jason said with a snicker.

Danny’d gotten most of his stuff back to him within a week. Except the Soup Powered Fuck Machine shirt, which he’d worn to more than one of their adventures through the city.

Jason was well aware he wasn’t getting that shirt back. He even agreed it was much funnier on Danny.

(And, well, ridiculously oversized, which meant that once jackets and sweaters came off Danny still tended to tie it into a crop top like a country girl in her boyfriend’s shirt. It was cute.

Jason was maybe considering giving in and letting Steph get him in a crop top.)

Sure enough, Danny stuck his tongue out at him, reluctantly hauling himself from the couch.

“No idea what you’re talking about, I gave you all of your clothes back weeks ago.” The odds that Danny would bring that shirt along, just to wear tomorrow? High.

Chuckling softly, Jason grabbed the bags.

“Oh, then I must be mistaken. Clearly all of your clothes are actually the right size, right?” He asked sarcastically.

Danny nodded archly anyway, as regal as an offended cat as he flounced to the door.

“The right size is whatever size I want them to be,” he declared airily, and Jason… couldn’t argue with that. And then just as Jason had locked the door behind them and was reshouldering the bags, Danny turned back suddenly, all airs and graces apparently forgotten.

“Oh, and I need a thigh selfie from you. There’s some nerds in my class totally obsessed with Red Hood, but obviously yours are better.”

Jason didn’t quite drop anything breakable. But that was only because they hadn’t bought anything breakable.

Boxes of Lucky Charms pancakes spilled across the floor.

———————

And there we have it! 😁 our first timeskip, a couple plot beats all set up, and maaaaybe a little hope that by the end of next chapter we’ll have one less secret!

And Bruce is improving! Ish. Look how good he did though, said sorry and everything! And now he’s being subjected to Vlad and the Fentons, which can only possibly go well!

#dfdali #danny fenton dead and loving it #dp x dc #dead on main ship #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #chapter 19 part 2 #the finished core

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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years ago

Note

hellooooo dropping in to order you to do your homework if you arent already <3 im doing mine you should too <3

For you, I did it and turned it in. Also like I'm very on top of things at the moment so I promise I wasn't like ignoring anything serious and going "<3" about it. Though to be fair that is exactly something I would do and probably have done before

this is just an aside about my homework but every time I turn in an assignment like this one (a compiled vocab list of unfamiliar words from the book we're reading in class along with observations/questions) I just have to wonder what my teacher thinks when he grades mine in particular.

Because like. I am not reading the same book as everyone else. The class is still reading Beowulf which I finished within days of being given it like two weeks ago and so everyone else's assignments kinda match up and are about the same things but then he just gets to me and it's something entirely out of left field. Just going through a bunch of observations about Grendel's mother and then gets to me and I'm like "never before have I seen women so sexualized--catch 22 is a serious book but oh boy are there a lot of titty mentions. does the author know women have thoughts and personalities?" and "you know? I'm really wondering why the Knight's Tale in The Canterbury Tales is so much longer than all the others because they haven't explained that yet"

i simply think it's funny to think about :)

I hope your homework goes well!

#quil's queries #quil's unholy underworld #silveredviolets #homework #i do technically have other homework. but nothing due tonight #and I already did a big chunk of it this morning #so. since it' snot due till monday imma do it tomorrow #otherwise I've done everything for the week already #so I'm good homework-wise for the time being!

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lilliagradiewrites · 4 years ago

Text

go get her, kid. (peter parker)

Summary: Peter Parker is hopelessly in love with Tony Starks’ teenage daughter, and Stark encourages him to shoot his shot.

WC: 7.4k (holy shit)

Warnings: Bad language, , really nothing else. A lot of cute peter and a painful amount fluff. A tiny bit of angst too.

A/N: I found myself watching Tom Holland interview clips today and I just couldn’t help myself. Here we are: my first peter parker/ spiderman one shot! I have some Harry and Jj pieces in the works, so keep eyes out for that!

LET’S DO IT!!!

--------

Peter found himself in this position far too often. Staring at you shamelessly while you worked away at whatever was on your desk, usually a school assignment or some tech project. His crush had been going on for quite some time, but it was getting more and more difficult to hide.

You and Peter had been best friends ever since your dad first recruited him. Something clicked between the two of you, causing an instant friendship. As time went on, you grew closer and closer to the superhero, and he quickly became your best friend. You began surrounding yourself with his friends without even realizing it, becoming close with Ned and MJ almost instantly. They were great people, and you loved being around them, but something about Peter was just different. Your energies matched perfectly for some reason. He got your humour, liked the same things as you, plus he was a great conversationalist and an even better listener. Some of your favorite memories were made with Peter.

Despite knowing practically everything about the boy, you were completely oblivious about his huge crush on you. Ned was the only person who truly knew, though many other people had their suspicions. The Avengers had an idea about it, considering you were what he talked about 90 percent of the time. MJ could tell because of the way he looked at you. When he looked your way, his pupils enlarged, his cheeks went pink, and the look on his face was entirely lovey-dovey. It was so obvious just in the way he gazed at you when you spoke.

He was looking at you in that way now, though you weren’t aware. He was meant to be studying (it was the whole reason he came over to your house, or at least that’s the reason he told you), but he couldn’t bring himself to care about chemistry homework when you looked so damn beautiful. Your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail keeping it away from your face as you worked. Your hands flew across the keyboard on your laptop, typing out something Peter probably wouldn’t understand. He was smart, sure, but you were intelligent in a different way. You were insightful and observant, you got things other people couldn’t begin to process. Your brain understood things in a different capacity than most. Peter assumes you got this trait from your father, who was the exact same way.

“What’re you typing? Something for school?”

You nodded, your attention not wavering from the laptop screen. “Yeah, an assignment for AP Lit.”

“Oh, that one project you told me about? With the essay and the powerpoint?”

You nodded again. “Mhm.”

Peter furrowed his brows, moving off your bed to come stand near you at your desk in an attempt to get a better look at what you were working so eagerly on. “I thought that project wasn’t due for another month.

“It’s not. I had an idea for the essay, and I figured if I get started early, I have more time to edit and perfect it.”

“You’re such a perfectionist.” Peter says with a light chuckle, looking at the state of your desk. It was both chaotic and organized at the same time. Pens, highlighters, pieces of paper, a book with annotations scribbled in the margins, notebooks with neat class notes printed inside of them in your pretty handwriting. They were all scattered about the surface, but Peter knew you well enough to know that there was always a method to your madness. As you observed longer, he realized that all of the items were in different sections on your desk, based on categories and subjects. He smiled lightly, realizing that this messy but technically neat surface was probably a very accurate representation of what goes on in your mind.

You finished the paragraph you were typing with a flourish, a satisfied smile resting on your lips. “There. I have a basic outline done for the essay portion. Obviously, I’ll have to go back and add a little more and elaborate on the points, but the basics are there.”

Peter glanced up at your laptop screen. His eyes were met with a never ending sea of typed out words. He smiled; this was so you. Your ‘outline’ is another student's essay doubled.

“You’re gonna write more than that?”

You looked back at him, and he saw your face for the first time during the encounter. His cheeks went slightly pink at the sight of you, and he prayed that you didn’t notice.

You didn’t, or perhaps you just didn’t say anything. You continued on with the conversation without skipping a beat, and relief washed over Peter because of this.

“Of course I am.” You stated with furrowed brows, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This is so boring and basic, and has no detail whatsoever. Anybody who reads the summary of the book online could write this. I want my teacher to know that I thoroughly read and understood the novel, you know? I don’t want to submit some surface-level shit, I want to really pick apart the undertones of and the meaning behind the story.”

Peter nods, pretending to understand what you meant. He’d barely been paying attention to the words you were saying, too encapsulated with your beautiful eyes to do so. You turned back around towards your work, causing your best friend to snap out of his trance-like state.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something? I’m bored.”

You had now picked up a pencil and a highlighter, working on the chemistry notes he was supposed to be taking. “Don’t you have work to do, Pete?”

“...No.”

You paused your writing to gaze at him skeptically.

“So you did your book report for english?”

“Yes.”

“Your worksheets for pre-calc?”

“Mhm.”

“You read the assigned chapters for Pschycology and finished the quiz you had to take on them?”

A nod was your only answer.

“What about chem? We have notes, essay questions, assigned reading, and a formulas worksheet due next tuesday. Have you done all of that?”

Peter hesitated for a moment. “Yes, I have.” It was a clear lie. “Can we watch a movie now?”

“There’s no way you did all of that. Go finish your work, and then we can watch a movie.”

A groan escapes Peters lips as he turns, resting against your desk. “But that’ll take forever. Your dad kicks me out at 11:00. We’ll never have time to watch one.” He whines.

You smile slightly, unable to fight it. Not replying to your friend, you spin around in your chair, raising your voice slightly, “FRIDAY, connect to dad please.”, the command directed to nowhere in particular.

“Connecting to Mr. Stark.” The familiar robotic voice echoes throughout your room.

“What’s up, Y/N/N?”

“Hey, Dad? Can Peter stay a bit later tonight?”

“Why?” Your dad’s voice replies through a hidden speaker, his tone almost accusatory.

“Because he wants to watch a movie but I won’t let him until we’re done with homework. We won’t have enough time to finish the movie if he leaves at normal curfew? Pleeeaseee, Dad?”

You can hear your father sigh. “Fine, but only because it’s not a school night and I’m feeling generous. He’s gotta be gone by one though, no exceptions.”

Both of you smiled widely, and you erupted in cheers. “Thanks, Dad!”

“Kid, be ready for training at eight. A later curfew doesn’t mean an exception from your early morning saturday sessions.” The statement was directed at Peter, who nodded, despite your father not being able to see him.

“Got it, Mr. Stark.”

“FRIDAY, disconnect.” You heard Tony’s voice from the other side.

“Disconnected.” The sound of the AI confirming the command filled your room, and the space fell into a brief silence once again.

You spun in your chair, turning to face Peter with a smug smile on your face. “There, now we can get our work done, and watch a movie. Satisfied?”

Peter nodded, giving a roll of his eyes and heading back over to his workspace on your bed, plopping down and continuing his assignments.

An hour and half later, Peter gave a heavy sigh, finally closing his textbook with a smile. “All done!” he announced proudly.

“With everything?”

“Yes, everything.”

You closed your notebook you’d been working in, standing up. “Great. I’ve been done for half an hour, I’ve been working on future assignments while I waited for you to finish up. Ready to watch that movie?”

Peter nodded excitedly. He loved watching movies with you, because you always cuddled up close to him on your bed while you watched. Peter loved being in close proximity to you, even though it made him a little nervous.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked, beginning to clear his things off your bed.

“I don’t know. We can discuss while we go make popcorn.”

Peter’s eyes lit up; he loved popcorn.

“Okay!” He tossed the rest of his things in his school bag, zipping it up quickly and dropping it in the corner of your room. “Lets go!”

You chuckled at his childlike behavior, following him out of your bedroom door towards your kitchen. The entire journey down the stairs, down the hall, and to the kitchen was filled with Peter going on and on about movies he wanted to see.

You grabbed the microwave popcorn from the pantry, unwrapping it and tossing it in, starting up the machine.

You continued to listen to Peter as soft popping sounds filled your kitchen.

“Oh, you guys have Disney plus, right? What if we watched that new star wars show thingy? The mandalorian?”

You smiled at this statement. Though you didn’t see the boy in any way but a friend (at least that’s what you told yourself), you found Peter’s Star Wars obsession very cute.

“I mean, I would watch that, but I don’t think I’d understand it.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve never seen the movies.”

You watched in amusement as Peter’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. “You’ve NEVER seen the Star Wars movies? Are you kidding me, Y/N?”

You laughed at his reaction, moving to fetch the fully popped popcorn from the microwave and transfer it into a bowl. “No, I’m not kidding. I’ve been meaning to watch them forever, but I guess I never got around to it.”

“I can’t believe this!” Peter exclaims in disbelief. “We’ve been friends for a year and a half now, and you’ve never seen the Star Wars movies? This is insane! I talk about them so much… did you just never understand what I was talking about?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Nope, I never have. I kinda just let you talk about it, because I planned on watching the movies. I figured I’d understand what you meant when I watched them.”

“Holy shit… we’re watching the first one tonight, Y/N. No arguments, we’re doing it.”

You grabbed the now prepared bowl of popcorn, smiling at your friend. “Alright, let’s do it.”

You headed back up the stairs, the sound of your footsteps accompanied with the sound of Peter murmuring in disbelief as you made your way to your room.

Once the two of you arrived at your destination, you closed the door, placing the bowl of popcorn on your still cluttered desk.

Peter climbed into your bed, while you rummaged through your drawers in search of comfy clothes. “I’m gonna change into pj’s before we start, i want to be comfy.”

Peter nodded. “FRIDAY, put Star Wars: The Phantom Menace on Y/N’s TV.” He spoke out in a slightly raised voice. The movie appeared on your screen, waiting to be started as you changed.

A few moments later, you emerged from your bathroom, now wearing a pair of Nike shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt.

“Y/N, this is about to change your li-” Peter’s voice trailed off as he looked at you. The oversized shirt you were wearing… was his.

He choked on the piece of popcorn he’d been eating. “I-is that my shirt?”

You looked down on what you were wearing, realizing that it was, in fact, Peter's. “Oh shit. Yeah, sorry. You left it at the lab once, dad gave it to me to give to you, and I guess it just got mixed in with my clothes. I’ll wash it and give it back.

Peter shook his head, coughing again. “No, it’s okay. You can keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” his cheeks went pink as he realized what had just left his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say the last part.

Your cheeks went even pinker at the compliment, which you couldn’t deny made your stomach flutter a little bit. “Okay, thanks.” You smiled at your friend, climbing into the bed beside him. You cuddled in close to him, probably closer than need be, but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“FRIDAY, start the movie.”

---

A few hours later, the credits were rolling, and Peter was red in the face. You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and had moved even closer to him in your slumber. You were now full-on cuddling the boy, and he had no idea what to do. Your leg was moved over his, your head lay on his chest. One arm thrown around his waist. He liked having you this close, but his stomach was in a constant state of butterflies, and he was worried that the sound of his heart beating loudly in his chest would wake you.

He didn’t know what time it was, but it must’ve been close to one, because a knock sounded from the other side of your bedroom door.

Without waiting for an answer, Tony entered the room. “Alright, kids, it’s almost curfew, time to wrap it up…”

His eyes landed on you and Peter, cuddled up in your bed.

“Kid, what the hell is going on here?”

“Mr. Stark! Um, Y/N fell asleep while we were watching the movie and she kinda… I don’t know.. Ended up like this? Nothing’s going on, I swear, it’s just… I didn’t want to wake her up…”

Peter’s face was the color of a tomato at this point. Stark still had his suspicions about the boy’s intentions, but had a feeling that Peter was telling the truth. “Alright, then. You’d better get your ass home and get some sleep. Like I said, you don’t get a free pass from training because you were cuddling with my daughter till one am.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No, Mr. Stark, I- We weren’t… I Wasn’t…”

Stark chuckled at the boy’s flustered state. “I’m screwing with you, Kid. Now get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you at 8 AM sharp at the compound”

Peter nodded frantically. “Yes, sir. 8 AM. Got it.”

Tony turned and left without another word, leaving Peter slightly panicked. Did Mr. Stark think that something was going on between him and Y/N? Would he be mad if there was? Peter didn’t know what to think, but he knew that he should probably leave before Tony decided to come back.

Peter climbed carefully out from underneath Y/N, setting her head gently on her pillow. He tried his very best not to wake her as he moved out of the bed.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you lots.” Peter whispered to his ‘best friend’, planting a sweet kiss on her forehead. With that, he slid your window open, climbing out of it and swinging his way home.

Peter was completely oblivious to the fact that Tony had been standing quietly outside your door when Peter said his goodbyes, and Tony saw the entire encounter. The ‘goodnight’, the ‘i love you’, the sweet forehead kiss.

Tony had his suspicions, but that night it was confirmed: his newest recruit had it bad for his daughter.

Strangely, Tony didn’t find himself terribly angry over it.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of your alarm blaring frustratingly loud. You groaned at the noise, picking up your phone to turn it off. The time on your phone screen read 7:00 AM. Groaning again, you pulled yourself reluctantly out of bed. As much as you hated getting up out of bed, you knew you had to if you ever wanted to complete your training. Your father had promised you that you’d get a spot on his team if you trained hard enough, and you were extremely determined. It had been your dream for years to become an Avenger, so you had been training your ass off for months to earn your spot.

This is how all of your Saturdays had begun for many weeks. An alarm going off at seven in the morning, waking you up to get ready for training at eight. It was a normal routine for you at this point, but for some reason the early wake up never got easier.

You moved about your regular morning routine, heading straight for your bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Once your basic hygiene was done, you brushed through your hair, changed into some clothes (your training uniform was at the compound), grabbed your phone, and headed downstairs.

You made a beeline for the kitchen, where your father was already making his morning coffee. When he noticed your presence, he gave you a tired smile.

“Morning, Y/N/N. Sleep well?”

Still half asleep, you gave an exhausted nod. “I shouldn’t have stayed up that late last night. I’ll yell at Peter when I see him. He always manages to convince me to let him stay late.”

For some reason, your father gave a light chuckle at your words. “I bet he does, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrowed at his statement. Something about his tone of voice didn’t sit right with you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, making your way over to fix yourself a cup of coffee.

Your father smiled smugly at you, passing over the coffee pot and a mug. “Nothing, honey. Be ready in fifteen.”

Still suspicious, your eyes followed him as he placed his coffee mug in the sink and moved from the room. Why was he acting like this? Did Peter do something last night? You remembered falling asleep halfway through the movie, not being able to make it through the whole thing. Had something happened while you were sleeping?

Deciding not to let it bother you, you pushed the interaction from your mind, focusing solely on fixing your coffee. You were barely functional without it, and you knew you needed to be fully aware for training. You had to prove to your father that you could keep up with the Avengers, and that you’d be a useful asset to their team.

You downed the coffee quickly, knowing you had only a few minutes left to get ready. When your father gave you a time warning, he always meant it. And, you knew all too well, he would leave you behind if you were going to make him late.

He’d done it twice before.

Once you had finished chugging the remnants of your coffee, you placed the mug neatly in the sink, right beside where your father had left his. The drink had been an instant pick-me-up, and you automatically felt more awake. You found yourself getting more and more excited for the day ahead of you. Though waking up early on saturday mornings was a pain in the ass, you did enjoy training. You got to exercise, learn about cool technology, and screw around with your best friend. What wasn’t there to like?

Now that your best friend had crossed your mind, you pulled out your phone to text him. You sent him a message every morning, or he sent one to you. It was just a thing the two of you did. Over the past year the two of you had been close, it became some sort of routine.

Y/N/N: morning spidey. u awake?

Within moments, he was typing out a reply. He always answered your messages quickly.

Spidey: yes i am :) ready for training? I’m gonna kick ur ass in sprints today

You chuckled lightly at his response. You and Peter had always been insanely competitive towards each other, and it really jumped out during training. Unfortunately for you, Peter usually won the challenges. You always blamed it on the fact that he had more experience and super strength; he blamed it on the fact that ‘you suck’ and ‘he’s just that awesome’.

Y/N/N: u can try, but idk how that will work out. I’ve beaten u in all of the other sprints for weeks.

Spidey: doesn’t matter. I’m showing out today

Spidey: bring ur a-game, irongirl.

You smiled at the message.

Y/N/N: always do, spiderboy

He started typing back immediately, and you knew exactly why. He called you irongirl to screw with you, so you had begun calling him spiderboy to get on his nerves. It worked every time.

Spidey: Y/N!!! It’s spiderman!!!

Y/N/N: spiderboy!!! It’s nova!!!

Spidey: ugh. Ur impossible.

You grinned widely. Your playful banter with Peter has always been one of your favorite parts of the friendship.

Y/N/N: but u love me anyways :)))) see u soon

Spidey: u better be glad i do. see u soon

You reread the texts, unable to fight the smile on your face. Everytime you interact with Peter, you remember how much you truly love him. Being an avenger, and the daughter of one of the smartest and most famous men on the planet, wasn’t easy. Peter was the only one who had a taste of the madness that was your life. Having him around was having a sense of normalcy, and so were incredibly grateful for him.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice being called from the front door of your house.

“Y/N! Time to leave!” Without hesitation, you locked your phone, slipping it into the pocket of your sweatpants.

You hurried towards the front door, not wanting to be left behind again. When you arrived, your father was already standing there, holding the door open. You gave him a smile and a quick thank you for holding the door, then made your way out. The driver was already waiting patiently in front of your house. This was one of your dad’s six drivers.

“Morning, Bernard.” You say kindly to the driver, climbing into the back seat of the range rover. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing wonderful, Y/N. How are you?” The older man replied. You really liked Bernard, he was one of your favorite drivers. He was an older man, in his mid seventies, and you found him to be the sweetest person in the universe. Sometimes, he’d bring you your favorite candy when he used to pick you up from school, and he was always so considerate and kind.

“I’m good. Tired, but good.”

The man smiled at your reply. By this point, your dad had finished locking up the front door of the house, and he climbed in the backseat beside you.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark.” Bernard said professionally to his new passenger, and your dad nodded as a reply.

“Morning, bernard.”

The conversation ended there between the two men. Your father wasn’t a very social person with people he didn’t know, and Bernard was aware of this fact. He mostly talked to you when you were in the car, and Tony went on his phone and did Lord knows what.

“How is Dorothy doing? Is she feeling better?” You asked the man as he began pulling out of your driveway. Dorothy was Bernard’s wife, and she’d gotten sick the week prior. Given her age, Bernard was very worried about her.

Bernard smiled at your question. “Much, much better. They released her from the hospital yesterday, she’s back home and doing great. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course!” You grinned back. “Did you ever find out what she had?”

“Pneumonia, just a very bad case of it.”

You nodded in understanding. “Well, I’m glad she’s better! I was worried when you first told me.”

The conversation continued, talking about anything and everything as you drove to the compound. He told you about his wife, his four kids and what they’re doing. His granddaughter had a baby a few days before, and he was extremely excited about it.

After a 20 minute drive, you pulled up to the building you knew so well. Bernard went to the normal procedure of getting through the front gates, and then pulled up to the front of the compound.

“Well, here we are.” Bernard announced, parking the vehicle. You and your father began climbing out of the backseat.

“Thank you, bernard. Tell your granddaughter I said congratulations!”

He wished you a kind goodbye, and then you were gone, leaving the car and heading towards the compound.

When you walked into the main section of the building, you spotted your best friend in the kitchen. You had to admit, he looked incredible, standing near an open window in the early morning light. He was already dressed in his sleek, black training uniform. It was tight against his body, showing off his muscled body. Sometimes, you forget how beautiful Peter is.

“You’re staring…” A singsong voice came in your ear. You whipped your head towards the voice to see your father walking away from you, smirking. You stood there, feeling slightly confused. Had you really been staring at Peter?

At times, you forget that Peter is only your best friend. The two of you act like an old married sometimes. You spend all of your time together, and you know each other so well.

Strange feelings you couldn’t understand had crept up on you before, especially recently. You couldn’t deny Peter was attractive, and he was a great person, too. How could you not love him? The issue is, you found yourself loving him in a different way than before…

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You couldn’t be thinking about this right now, it’s not the place or time. Peter was standing right in front of you, and you needed to be focused for training.

You could process your feelings and emotions at a later time.

You began walking up to Peter, who was leaning up against the counter holding a cup of coffee.

“Morning, loser.” You said teasingly, greeting your friend. His head snapped in your direction, and he smiled when his eyes found you. (You thought you could see his cheeks go pink, too, but you forced yourself to ignore it.)

“Hey! How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.” You replied, leaning against the counter beside him. “I didn’t even notice that you left last night, I was really out. Did my Dad come in and tell you to leave?”

The pink in Peter’s cheeks darkened at your statement. Of course, this was the perfect time for your father to reenter the room. “Yeah, I did. He seemed very comfortable, but I kicked him out at one.”

Peter and your father were making direct eye contact. Your dad had that stupid smirk on his face, and peter was bright red.

You looked between the two of them, not knowing what to think. Before, you were just suspicious, but now it was confirmed: something happened last night between the two of them, and you were determined to find out what.

Hours later, you’re completely exhausted from training. You worked your ass off, and had successfully beat Peter in sprints.

“That’s right! You lost! How amazing is spiderboy now?”

Peter rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “Whatever, Y/N. I let you win.”

Your jaw dropped. “You did not! I won because I’m better!”

Peter just smiled at you. You took a swig of the water bottle in your hands, turning around to look at your friend as you did.

The sight you were met with was very sweet. Peter stood there, smiling at you with a look you could only describe as adoration. You looked back at him, a small grin resting on your face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The brunette boy says cheekily.

“Why are YOU looking at ME like that, Parker?”

You took a step closer to him, his eyes widening slightly at your movement. He said nothing in response to your question (though it felt more like an accusation), and you smiled again.”Got nothing to say?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Parker!” You jumped what felt like 20 feet in the air at the sound of Natasha’s voice, breaking up the little moment between you and Peter.

You stepped back away from him, and you couldn’t help but notice the sadness flash across his face before he turned to the other woman in the room.

“Yeah, Nat?”

“Tony needs your help in the lab. I believe his exact words were ‘he needs to be here in five or I’ll kill him.’ A few minutes have already passed, I’d start running if I were you.”

Peter’s eyes widened for the second time. “Oh, shit, okay. Thanks, Nat.” He turned his head quickly in your direction. “I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. Peter planted a quick kiss on your forehead before jetting off in the direction of the lounge.

Grinning to yourself, you turned towards the sink, your back facing Natasha. You begin cleaning out your now empty water bottle, thinking over the previous interaction with Peter. You loved when he kissed your forehead.

“So, how long have you liked him?” You were so deep in thought, Natasha’s voice made you jump once again. When you’d fully processed her words, your cheeks went pink.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. I know you like him.”

“Like who?” Play dumb. That’ll throw her off your trail… right?

“Peter! Come on, you’re caught. Just admit it, Y/n, you’re making things harder on yourself.”

Finally, you sighed. Drying your hands on a towel, you turned reluctantly back towards Nathasha. “Is it really that obvious?”

The woman broke out into a grin at your words. “Of course it is! You two are hopelessly in love with each other. It’s almost hard to watch.”

Your cheeks went pink at her statement. “With each other? Oh, no. You mean I’m hopelessly in love with him. It’s not mutual. I’m just his best friend.”

Nat rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, come on! ‘Just his best friend’ my ass. He loves you, Y/N. He’s even more obvious than you are.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I promise you’re wrong.”

She looked at you pointedly. “I was right about you, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, but…” Your voice trailed off. You couldn’t argue with that. Nat grinned smugly at your reaction.

“That’s what I thought. Please confess to him when he meets you in your room later. It’s painful to watch, I can’t do it any longer.” And with that, Natasha was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Was it really thought obvious? Could everyone tell how you felt about peter? You could hardly even tell how you felt about him; the line between best friend and crush had been blurred for so long. If everyone could tell that you were hopelessly in love with your best friend, you would be incredibly embarrassed.

Even worse… what if Peter could tell that your in love with him?

You shook your head, as if clearing your thoughts. No. You couldn’t think like that. Of course he didn’t know; he would’ve said something.

Right?

Sighing, you walked off towards your room to take a shower, pretending you weren’t going to think of him while you were in there.

---

While Natasha was exposing your feelings, you were completely oblivious to the fact that Tony was doing the same thing to Peter in the lab.

When the boy walked in, Peter fully expected that he was being called for one of three reasons.

One: Tony had a new mission for Peter.

Two: Tony needed help with an experiment.

Or, three (the scariest option): Tony wanted to scold him for (albeit unintentionally) cuddling with his daughter the night before.

Peter could only be described as apprehensive as he walked carefully into the lab, where Tony was hunched over a table, working on something that Peter couldn’t see.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter spoke nervously, a timid way of letting Tony know of his presence. “Nat said you needed me. Is that true, or was she just trying to get rid of me?”

“No, no, I called for you.” Tony replied. He made a few last touches on whatever he was working on, then turned around towards peter. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Okay, option two is eliminated. Now, the question at hand is: will it be option one or three?

“Oh, okay. What about?” Peter said casually (or at least, that's how he hoped it came across.)

Tony gave a pointed look to the boy before speaking again. “My daughter.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly.

Shit, shit, shit.

Option three it is.

“Is this about last night sir? I swear I can explain-” Peter was quickly speaking.

But, before he could finish, Tony was cutting him off.

“This isn’t about last night, kid. I mean, it kind of is, but not really.”

Peter’s brow furrowed.

Unknown option number four?

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I saw what happened before you left last night. The forehead kiss, the ‘I love you,’ all of it.”

Peter was bright red in seconds. “Oh…”

“Do you love my daughter, Peter?”

The boy’s cheeks somehow managed to go a darker shade of pink.

“I-I uh.. O-of course I do, she’s, uh, she’s my best friend.” Peter stammered out.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what I mean, Peter.” The man says, his tone borderline accusatory. “Do you love her, love her?”

Silence. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he opted for nothing at all.

“I already know the answer, Peter, so you might as well just come out and say it.”

Peter pondered his next move. If he played his cards wrong, this conversation could end in him losing his life. Tony Stark was not one to be messed with, especially when it comes to Y/N.

On the other hand, Tony Stark was not one to be lied to, either.

Peter sighed, accepting his fate. “How did you know?”

Much to Peter’s surprise, Tony gave a small smile. “I see the way you look at her, kid. I’ve looked at many girls like that in my day. That enamoured look. You're in love with my daughter, and I have some questions.”

“Questions?”

“Yes, questions, kid. Keep up.”

Peter nodded. “Alright.”

“How long?” Tony asked.

“How long…?” Peter didn’t understand what Tony was aking.

“How long have you been in love with Y/N! How long have you known?”

Peter looked away, breaking eye contact momentarily out of nerves.

When did he begin loving you? Now that he’s truly thinking about it, he can’t really remember.

Maybe it was the first mission that the two of you did together, back when you still known as irongirl. It was a bank robbery, an easy task that Tony had given for your very first mission.

Maybe it was that one time when you dragged him out of bed at 6 AM so that you could show him your favorite coffee shop.

Perhaps it was when you took that faithful mission to Asgard, when you gained your powers accidentally, earning your new title as Nova.

Or, it could be the time that you and him stayed up late binge watching a show he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you that night. You looked so beautiful that night, getting excited as something cool happened in the show. Your hair was tied back, wearing an oversized shirt, your face makeup free. He couldn’t help but smile as you laughed, and didn’t think he’d ever heard a more beautiful sound in the world.

Yeah, he thinks it was that night.

“Um… about ten months ago, I think? That’s when I realized, but I think I’ve loved her for longer. I just forced myself not to acknowledge it, I guess.”

Tony nodded in understanding. “I get that. What is it about her?”

Another question the boy had to think about.

“There’s a lot of things, I think. Like how excited she gets when she talks about things she’s passionate about. Oh, and the way she laughs when something’s funny in a movie or a show or something. And the way she sends me memes or videos that she thinks are funny. They’re usually not very funny, but of course I think it’s hilarious just because she sent it to me. And she always listens to me when I talk, even if I’m talking about something stupid and boring like science stuff I think is interesting. She talks back to me like she cares what I’m saying, and I know she probably doesn’t, but she acts like she does, and that’s enough. She always drags me out to go on adventures, or, at least, that’s what she calls them. Usually it’s just going to get coffee or try out some new restaurant she heard about but it’s still fun. She’s just so amazing, and I think she makes me the best version of myself.”

The rant ended, and for a moment, Peter forgot that Tony was even in the room.

“Damn. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m impressed, kid. To be honest, I expected some shallow answer like ‘she looks hot in her suit’ or something like that.”

“No, sir. Of course, she’s beautiful, but Y/N is just so much more than that.”

Tony gave another sweet smile to the boy in front of him.

“She likes you, too, you know.”

Peter’s head snapped toward Tony again.

What the hell did he just say?

“What?”

“Y/N. She likes you.”

“No way. She just sees me as her best friend. I’m probably like a brother to her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

“But she does, kid. I know my daughter better than I know myself. She is head over heels for you, spidey. Which is why you should tell her how you feel.”

“Tell her how I feel? Why would I do that?”

“Because she likes you, too, and then you two will be stupid kids in love.”

“Are you serious?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Peter paused for a moment. “I thought you’d kill me when you found out I liked your daughter, not convince me to go talk to her about it.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, kid. I brought you in here with the intention of killing you, or just telling you to stay away from my daughter. But after you went on that little rant about why you loved her, I just couldn’t tell you to keep away from her. You really love her, kid, I can tell. So go talk to her.”

“You’re sure you won’t be mad if I ask her out?”

Tony shook his head and smiled.

“Go get her, kid.”

-------

Freshly clean and feeling a significant amount better, you sat on your bed scrolling on your phone. Thoughts of Peter had begun to fade (mainly because you forced them out of your mind) and that helped to keep you from stressing about what’s to come.

You had decided to confess how you feel to Peter.

True, this plan could ruin everything. Today could be the day you lost your best friend, and that thought made you want to cry.

But today could also be the day you finally get to kiss the boy you’ve loved forever, and that thought also made you want to cry.

You didn't have much time to think about it further, however, because Peter was knocking on your bedroom door.

“Y/N? It’s me. Can I come in?”

You paused immediately, your heart rating speeding up.

Oh, shit. This is it. This could be the beginning or the end of you and Peter Parker.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. It was now or never.

“Yeah, Petey, come on in.”

The door opened, and the boy you loved so much walked in. His cheeks were pink, you noticed. His cheeks only went pink when he’s nervous. Why was he nervous?

You could tell by his damp hair that he had also showered before coming to your room.

“I need to talk to you about something.” He rushes out.

Oh.

“Same.” is your reply. What else are you meant to say?

“Oh, really? Well, uh, you can go first. I’ll wait.”

You shook your head frantically. “No, you first. You said it first, so it’s only right that you go.”

Peter’s hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it. Another nervous habit of his.

“Can I sit down?”

You nodded. Why was he even asking? Usually he’d just plop down whenever he pleased, no questions asked. This behavior was very out of character for the boy you knew so well.

The boy sat down on the edge of your bed, and then took a deep breath. “Okay. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I just have to. I don’t want you to hate me, and I really hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, but…”

Peter paused for a moment, and looked into your eyes. They were brimming with concern, and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore. He broke the eye contact you’d been maintaining, mustered up all the courage he could, and then blurted it out.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for I don’t know how long. I wasn’t planning on telling you, because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but it was starting to get physically painful and I just- I can’t hide it anymore. I love you and I’m sorry.”

Peter clenched his eyes shut, unable to look at your face. He waited (very anxiously) for a reaction, but it never came. Eventually, he opened his eyes, gaining the burst of bravery it took to look at you.

Your jaw was dropped, the expression on your face unreadable.

Oh, no. No no no no no. He’d fucked up. He fucked everything up and now you were never going to speak to him again. He’d lost you. Damn you, Tony Stark.

“Y/N…” He began his apology solemnly. “I’m-”

But he never got to finish his sentence.

Because you were pouncing on him before he had the chance to.

You were on him within seconds, kissing him with so much intensity that he fell back on the bed. He was taken aback for a moment, but quickly kissed you back.

For a moment, the two of you just lay there, wrapped in one another, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

A kiss that made up for all the ones both of you had longed to have in the months before.

You pulled away gently, looking into Peter’s eyes.

“I have loved you for so fucking long, Peter. I was going to tell you that I loved you today.”

“Are you serious?”

You laughed lightly. “Of course I’m serious, you dumbass.”

“Hey!” Peter feigned offense.

You pecked his lips. “You’re a cute dumbass, though.” And then you were kissing him again, and it’s all you could’ve asked for.

----

After a while, the two of you had finally tired each other out, and now you sat cuddled against each other on your bed. No movie or show was playing; it was just you and Peter, listening to each other’s breathing and the sound of your heartbeats.

You looked up at the beautiful boy you were cuddling with, only to find he was already looking down at you.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out, Parker?”

Peter’s eyes widened, and his cheeks went red (for the millionth time that day.)

“Oh, yeah, I- I just thought- nevermind, uh- Y/N, will-”

“Yes, of course I’ll be your girlfriend, Petey.” You cut him off, saving him a few extra minutes of nervous stammering.

He smiled sheepishly at you, then leaned down to bring you into a kiss.

You cuddled back down into his chest, smiling warmly.

You can confidently say that right now, in this moment, you are the happiest you’ve ever been.

#peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker angst peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu

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keepingupwithpotters · 3 years ago

Text

goddess on a mountain top

Week 5 on @efkgirldetective 's Summer of Jily (technically not set in summer but in may?? surely that's forgivable)💫💫💫

stargazing + I've got plenty of affection / I'd be glad to show you some time

on ao3

It turned out there weren’t that many people who took Divination in her Astronomy class.

She was, somewhere deep in her mind, aware of this fact but the implications of it didn’t hit her until she was paired with her partner for this joint project. All that was left for Lily now was to scowl deep as she craned her neck, eyes crinkling with the effort.

There were many reasons Lily Evans wished she was anywhere but the Astronomy Tower tonight, number one being the late hour. Last she checked, it was very close to curfew, and sure they got permission from both of their professors for this, but that didn’t stop a gnawing worry growing inside her belly. And as a prefect ��she still loved reminding herself that– wasn’t she supposed to be a little alert now anyway? Surely, these nerves were normal.

The warm May night was doing nothing to quell these concerns either, just serving as a mocking reminder of how close they were to the OWLs. She tried to console herself by seeing this as an exam prep too, empty star charts laying at the ground, but she would really prefer it if this certain homework was done solo at least.

And that brought her to the heart of the issue: the boy next to him. She had to admit, more than half of her anxieties right now were caused by him, a confession he would never hear from her lips though. An indignant huff escaped her with the thought.

“Stop hogging the telescope, Evans. Do you see Venus or not?”

She let go of James’ telescope with a sigh. They had decided bringing only one would be enough earlier, a decision she highly regretted now.

“No Venus. I think we’re looking in the wrong direction. We shouldn’t even need a telescope to see Venus, it’s supposed to be the brightest in the sky.”

“Umm, you’re wrong, Evans. Sirius is the brightest star in the sky.”

The last part was said with a practiced boredom, a phrase probably drilled into his head – and everybody else who was in the same Astronomy class with Sirius Black too, honestly. She would’ve found it amusing if it wasn’t for her cranky mood.

A saccharin smile. “Good thing Venus is not a star then, right, Potter?”

She decided to continue her search for Venus on the other side, hoping to find Jupiter as well before they lost their chance to see both. Their mission was supposed to be one of the easy ones, with the two brightest planets and all. She had a suspicion that wasn’t why Professor Dowson had given it to them though, remembering her wink as she remarked that maybe this Venus-Jupiter conjunction would do them some good too. Hah. Not bloody likely.

Her decision to leave his side certainly had nothing to do with her clammy hands holding the telescope, slipping further with his proximity. She tried to bring Sev’s face forth in her mind, guilt churning inside her stomach instantly. Better guilt than these weird flutters in her heart.

Venus winked at her from afar, seemingly mocking her thoughts. She didn’t have time to take offense before she turned her head to alert James too, relieved to finally do something besides bickering back and forth about planets and stars.

“Oi, Potter, come over here. I found it.”

He shuffled over reluctantly, probably due to not wanting to admit defeat. He barely even glanced at the sky before opening his mouth.

“Are you sure? I can’t see anything.”

“Well, some of us can see without needing a bloody gold telescope.”

She repositioned him correctly, turning his head to the right direction while grumbling under her breath. Her annoyance prevented her from realizing how close they’d gotten in the process, a fact that instantly took her breath away with the awareness. She waited a while before speaking again.

“Do you see it now?”

He choked out a “Yes.”, managing to stumble over one syllable. She didn’t let herself think why that was the case, too busy stressing over whispering the question at the first place.

Needing some distance in between, she took a shaky step back, trying to regain her composure. “And the dimmer one next to it should be Jupiter. We located the conjunction now, let’s fill the charts before we waste more time.”

“Relax, Evans.” He rolled his eyes. “We’re doing homework, and we have permission. This must be the most boring curfew breaking I have ever been involved in.”

“Sorry it’s not up to your standards, Potter. Next time I’ll bring Peeves with me.”

“I was hoping we would be alone next time we were in the Astronomy Tower together actually, Evans.”

A flush rose to her face with his cheeky smile, hopefully not too visible in the dark. She wanted to storm away under the guise of bringing their empty charts from the other side, but saw he already brought them with him in disappointment. She settled for a really loud exhale instead.

They were sitting on the ground, filling their charts in silence when they were interrupted for the first time that night. A couple barged into the tower in a flurry, limbs tangled, and eyes not seeing anything but each other. They didn’t seem to anticipate anyone else being there at this hour, not bothering to check their surroundings. An amused cough came from James as a warning while she was too shocked to say anything.

The couple finally broke apart, looking at them like they were the ones not supposed to be here.

“Oh, it’s already occupied,” the girl breathed out at last, looking sheepish and apologetic. “Sorry, didn’t see you. We’ll find another place.”

The guy gave them a funny look before leaving as he eyed their position and the charts laying before them, questioning their purpose in the Astronomy Tower most likely. The frantic couple left as quickly as they came in, leaving James and Lily gaping behind them.

The silence was broken by her laugh at last.

“Oh, no. Did she say they will find another place?” It seemed once the dam was broken, there was no stopping it. “I should’ve stopped that as a prefect, shouldn’t I?”

He joined in her laugh after a while too, shock wearing off from both of them gradually. “Nah, Evans. Reckon you deserve a day off. Leave it to the ones patrolling today, it’s their problem.”

The tense mood from earlier was dissipated, just a faint memory behind now that they wouldn’t touch upon. She felt like she owed the couple for that, at least.

“I am done with the star chart. We only have the astrological interpretation left now, right?”

“Yeah.” He went through the notes in front of him rapidly, looking for the correct glyphs. “Okay, so we got Jupiter touching Venus. And Jupiter amplifies everything it comes into contact with. Let’s just list everything Venus does with ‘more’ before it and call it a day.”

She couldn’t argue with that logic. She started to rattle on as she wrote in the margins of her chart. “Alright, then more love, more beauty, more creativity… More art maybe, for the creativity and aesthetic side? And more affection for love and pleasure.”

“Yeah, good, but we’re supposed to write them as the effects of the transit so something like ‘I will show more affection’ is—”

She couldn’t stop the snort that left her mouth.

“What?”, he gave an offended cry. “I’ve got plenty of affection. I am oozing with affection.”

Images of Severus and all the other poor First Years filled her mind. “Yeah, for like three other people.”

“It doesn’t have to be only three people,” he mumbled. She couldn’t hear him without straining her ears.

“Ah, I won’t believe you finally broadened your horizons till I witness it with my own eyes, Potter.”

“Yeah?” There was a challenging glint in his eyes. “Well, I’d be glad to show you sometime,” he bit out.

She tried to stop her mind from wandering. “Can’t wait.”

Lily Evans was no fool, she knew exactly what these innuendos were, and what her body’s extreme reactions to them meant. But Lily Evans was also a good friend. So, she would wait, maybe even talk with Severus in the meanwhile about it. The exam period was plenty stressful anyway, it only made sense for her to be cautious about this.

She would bid her time, stay put until the OWLs were over. Her rising hopes were hushed immediately with the thought, not allowing her mind to dream that far. But for right now, Lily Evans would enjoy some time with James Potter under the stars. After all, she was no saint, and Venus herself shined her approval from above.

#summerofjily #jily #jily fic #jily canon #james potter #lily evans #james x lily #senem writes #jily fanfiction #i promised an astrology flex but this is not it #you would know when that comes

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chenlucys · 4 years ago

Text

Right in front of you

Where Tamara points out what everyone else sees and Lucy realizes what she’s been missing all along.

This is my first time writing in 3 years so lemme know how you like this one and I can post the other one I wrote!

The door to the bedroom softly closed as Tamara emerged from the room with the new pajamas Lucy had bought for her. She wasn’t a fan of the pink but she wasn’t about to be ungrateful after all that had been done for her. She walked over to the kitchen and sat right in front of Lucy who was eyeing her phone screen at what Tamara imagined was the recipe for tonight’s meal.

She was lucky. At least that’s how she felt. She had someone who picked her up from school. Someone to drop off her homework when she forgot it. Someone who actually cared about her, for the first time in a long time. She never said the words but she knew that Lucy understood how thankful she was.

“Are you sure Jackson won’t mind me sleeping in his room?” she asked pulling her laptop out of her backpack onto the counter.

“Yeah he’s gonna be with Sterling for the whole weekend so you’re good.” Lucy looked over her shoulder from where she was at the sink to smile at Tamara. “Actually it’s nice to have a girl roommate for once. We should do this more often.”

“Is Jackson gone a lot?”

“No but sometimes we work different shifts and it’s just me here at night.”

“Well, maybe you should get a pet then. A dog maybe.”

“I had - well have - a dog already.”

Tamara’s confusion showed over her whole face. “Am I blind because I have never seen a dog here before.”

Lucy answered her question while still putting all the ingredients in the pan. “He’s with Tim.”

“Your T.O.? Why?”

“I got him after a really traumatic experience to help me cope but he turned out to be more than I could handle so Tim is taking care of him. Technically it’s his dog too since Kujo’s been with him for months now.”

“Do you ever get to see him?”

“No, but I force Tim to show me pictures and give me updates every now and again.” Lucy wiped her hand on the dish towel and grabbed her phone to show Tamara the pictures Tim sent her. He claimed he wasn’t a big softy yet half of the pictures were of the dog in his bed, sometimes under the covers.

“So you’re basically co-parents to a fur baby?”

Lucy thought about it for a minute and looked up at her smiling “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

They ate dinner and talked about their day while Tamara took care of the dishes - which wasn’t her idea but chores were expected since she was practically a permanent houseguest - before she slid down onto the comfy beanbag on the floor.

Lucy was flipping through the channels finding a show to watch while holding onto her wine glass. Tamara rested her homework on the coffee table and put her phone on top of it, sitting up to face the couch.

“So, what’s going on between you and Tim?” Tamara asked shoving Lucy’s foot to get her attention.

“Bradford?”

“Do you know another Tim?”

“Fair point. And nothing’s ‘going on’. We’ve just gotten a lot closer since I’m a P2 now.”

“Close enough for you to be cooking for him?”

“I cook for you, don’t I? Plus he’s there to test out all my recipes.”

“Mmhmm, sure.” Tamara was drawing out the first word after picking it up from being around Lucy so much knowing it would earn her a glare from her position on the couch. She paused a moment before asking her next question.

“So if he started dating again, you’d be okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re just friends and I want Tim to be happy?”

“Okay here me out. You said Nolan’s training officer left him when you were only halfway through the program. Angela made detective and left Jackson. Tim is the only one who hasn’t left your side even though he could’ve -”

“Clearly I talk too much about my personal life with you,”

“ - plus even though he’s sergeant now, he’s always conveniently around, at least when I visit the station.”

“You’re thinking way too deep into this.”

“Am I?” Tamara said as she eyed the picture under the tv. The picture was taken off guard the night of Angela and Wesley’s wedding with Tim and Lucy dancing, her head on his chest, his hand resting on her lower back. Jackson had insisted that she frame it, calling it ‘the most adorable photo ever’.

Lucy caught herself staring at the photo considering if the conversation that night between her and Tim was his way at hinting at something more. She could feel Tamara watching her and smiling. “Don’t you have a project due soon that you should be working on?”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” As Tamara started to take her laptop into the bedroom there was a knock on the door and she ran to look through the peephole. She didn’t say anything, just pulling the door open.

“Hey.” Tim addressed both of them but kept his eyes on Lucy and his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Oh, hey. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Can we talk for a minute?”

The silence between the three was close to being uncomfortable before Tamara started grinning.

“Um, I’ll be in my room.” She turned and winked at Lucy before closing the door behind her and pressing her ear to it to listen to the conversation.

#I know it’s short #but I wanted to write it down while it was fresh #I might update it later #lucy chen #tim bradford #tamara collins #also Tamara is the perfect cross between Lucy and Tim #she could be there child #the rookie #chenford #tucy #lucy x tim

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locitapurplepink · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 15

________________________________________________________

Crosshair was reading a novel, there was peace and quiet until heard the door knock was getting louder. He grunted "Wrecker, for the last time, do not break the door like this... "

He was surprised by Wrecker taking Tech and Echo into their room "Why are you taking these nerdies here ?" "They need the roof and they're our classmates, our friends. We should be there whatever we need." Wrecker responded.

Crosshair sighed "Fine, they can stay until the rain stops."

Echo spoke "Thank you, as we waiting, can I borrow one of your novels ?"

"Sure, just make sure you don't rip off." Crosshair responded. Echo nodded as he choosing which novel that he would read from the drawer.

Meanwhile Wrecker talked to Tech "Now, we have a time, can you help me with my homework please ?" Tech rolled his eyes then nodded "Of course."

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A hour passed but the rain didn't stop which Crosshair sighed as he knew he had no other choice "Guess they have to stay here tonight." Wrecker cheered "Yeah ! We can have sleepover."

"Technically, we have unexpected emergency since we have nothing protect from the wet." Tech said.

Echo responded "I'm agree with that, buddy."

"At least you guys can eat Crosshair's snacks. They're so good !" Crosshair was shocked as staring at him "Wrecker..." "That's alright. I always pack my salad for dinner when Echo and me have to study together." Tech ate his dinner.

"Ah, salad's boring. I'd rather take this." Wrecker took one of Crosshair's chips which he wasn't pleased about it.

15 minutes later, Crosshair just finished reading a novel as he mentioned Echo was emotional reading one of his novel. "You alright there ?" Echo tried to hide his sadness as wiping his tears "Yeah, I'm good."

At the same time, Wrecker and Tech knew that he was sad. Tech knew it was something to do with one of Crosshair's novels. "Crosshair, do you know what novel is he reading ?" He asked.

"Oh boy, that novel is about a young man who lost his best friend due of car accident and he's struggling with that for a long time. It's called 'Car of Nightmare'." Crosshair replied.

"I don't think Echo should read that one right now. He's struggling of his twin brother's loss." Tech told him which he was shocked and concern at the same time.

"Aww, he needs some company." Wrecker gave Echo a hug as Echo broke into his tears. Tech rubbed Echo's back while Crosshair tapped on his shoulder.

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Wrecker and Crosshair mentioned Tasya doing her DIY in the classroom "Hi Tasya, whatcha doin' ?" Wrecker asked. She stared at them "Hi boys. I'm just making these beautiful laterns for my little cousin's birthday which in the week."

"Your cousin that she visited here few weeks ago ?" Wrecker guessed.

She nodded "Yeah, she actually wanna schooling here so her parents took her and she's staying with me. Isn't that great ? Feels like I'm having a sister."

"Aww, That's so sweet." He replied.

Crosshair noticed something familiar that belongs to me "Hey, is that my paint brush ? I'm been looking for that yesterday during art lesson." He wasn't pleased.

Tasya smiled wider as rubbed her neck "Oops. Sorry Crosshair." She apologized as he rolled his eyes.

"Have you guys watched that Rapunzel movie ?" Tasya asked.

"You mean the Tangled movie ? Yeah, I loved that movie." Wrecker said.

While Crosshair scroffed "That movie just for kids movie."

Something was shocking them that Tasya put her angry face and pulled Crosshair's school outfit "Listen to me, old man. Disney movie are meant for everyone no matter how old they are so you better don't mess up with a disney fan like me."

Crosshair wasn't believe what just happened, he saw Tasya's dark side. Wrecker punched on Crosshair's shoulder "Ha ha ha, Hunter will be freak out for that." "I didn't except it either."

After Tasya was calm, she countinue to talk "You know ? Seeing the laterns in the night sky like seeing the light in the dark."

Which Wrecker had an idea "Tasya, can you call anyone else who willing to making these laterns ? We'll make a surprise for Echo."

"What happened to him ?" Tasya was concerned. "He misses his twin brother so much. He's getting emotional right now." Crosshair replied.

"Of course. Anything to help our friends." She said.

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Tasya came to Lydia who just packing to take his brother from his junior high school. "Hi Lydia. Are you busy for this week ?" "Uh.. Not really, just keeping an eye on my brother. Do you need help ?"

"I am if you're free to go... " Tasya whispered to Lydia's ear and Lydia nodded.

"Sounds a good idea. Okay, I'm in. I'm sure Liam would like to help."

"Awesome !" Tasya took Lydia's hand and walked to the classroom.

________________________________________________________

Here's the newest one. Hope you guys like this one.

@cassie-fanfics and @zaya-mo will be excited to read this one and upcoming chapters.

#the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #the bad batch fic #the bad batch fanfiction #high school

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

54. I’m not sure what you think I said, but you start calling me an asshole and whip a ruler at me and somehow, we both end up in detention

Indruck, sfw, please?

Here you go! Content note: spiders appear at one point.

I based some of this AU--namely the concept of the Crucible and how magic is channeled--on the Carry On series by Rainbow Rowell. And Duck is trans in this, because any good wizarding school is inclusive.

After three years at Amnesty Academy, Duck is used to the objects being magically propelled through the air. But a ruler zipping through the air and smacking the back of his head is a new, unpleasant experience.

He tracks it to two chairs to his left, the new third year with the silver hair. He hasn’t even been here a day, what the fuck the is his problem?

“Hey, what the hell man?”

“You know very well what.”

“Uh, no I don’t, and I don’t appreciate bein hit with a fuckin ruler!”

“The maybe think before you insult someone next time!”

“I didn’t fuckin insult you! I don’t even know your name!”

“Ahem.” Ned, their Charms professor, looks down at them reproachfully, “gentlemen, while I know the review of Zone of Truth is rather dull, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t entertain yourselves with mindless conflict.”

“Sorry, Ned.” Duck mumbles, sending his pencil shooting below desk level to whack the other guy in the leg at the exact same moment he whips his pen at Duck’s hand.

“OW!”

Ned sighs, “I hate to do this, but-”

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

“Detention! Lovely, my first day here and I’m in trouble. Thank you so much, Duck Newton, for landing us here.”

“You started it!” He growls as they take their seats. God, he hopes this isn’t one of Woodbridge’s days.

“Huh, only two.” Mama wipes her boots on the mat, closes the door behind her, “Afternoon, Duck. And…”

“Indrid.” Says his nemesis, “It is nice to meet you Professor C-” he cocks his head, “you really prefer I call you ‘Mama?’”

“Yep. Never could get behind that more formal stuff. Let some of the first years call me ‘Ms. Mama’ if they really need to feel like they’re showin some deference.”

Mama is deputy Headmistress of Amnesty. The only reason she’s not fully in charge is that she’s not a witch and some families object to that. So The Quell technically runs the school while Mama does most of the actual day to day work. She also teaches a course of non-magic practical skills because, “some things you can’t magic your way out of. Like taxes.”

Duck loves her class and, while he doesn’t understand why someone would opt into this weirdness, he admires the guts it takes as a fifteen year old human to walk into a wizarding school and declare that there was plenty you could learn there even though you couldn’t so much as send a spark from your fingers.

As he and Indrid watch the clock tick down, Mama pulls a bag from her satchel. The contents are cookies, which she offers to each of them.

“Barclay tryin’ out new recipes?”

“Course he is. Kid is gonna be the best damn kitchen witch in the country by the time he graduates. Guess he’s plannin to spend the summer drivin around and learnin the food magic of different regions.” She smiles, “bet you’ll never guess who’s goin’ with him.”

“Joe?”

“Bingo. Apparently he wants to study niche cultural magic.”

Duck’s pretty sure there’s another motive; sharing a van bed with Barclay. It sounds fun, roving the country, discovering new places with someone handsome by your side.

All that’s by his side is a glower hiding behind red glasses.

“Mama? I, ah, would it be possible for me to leave five minutes early? I’m supposed to get my pairing from the Crucible tonight.”

The older woman looks between the two of them, “Better tell me how you landed here first. Ned just said it was an argument.”

“He threw a ruler at me outta nowhere.”

“It was not, you know what you said.”

“The last thing I said before you hit me was ‘“nah, man’ when Billy offered me a pizza roll from his lunch.”

Indrid goes still, “Oh. I, ah, I misheard you. I thought you said 'mothman.' I apologize. I ought to have given you the benefit of the doubt.”

He seems so suddenly downtrodden that Duck shrugs, “Yeah, you should have. But it ain’t the worst thing that’s happened to me here. Not by a long shot.”

“No kiddin” Mama leans back on the desk, “Two of you can go at five til.”

His evening turns uneventful after that; dinner, hanging out with Juno and Aubrey, half doing homework and half fucking around on his phone in his room (the agreement between the school and the government is that a long as the students don’t post vidoes of themselves doing sick stunts with magic, the government will ignore any explosions and/monsters in the vicinity of the school).

He’s never had a roommate; when the Crucible spat out his name in fire on his first day, there was no other name with it. Almost everyone else rooms in pairs or trios. So his belongings are strewn about the tiny cabin that makes up his home away from home. Which is why, when the door creaks open at ten p.m, he sits up and prepares to fire off a spell.

Indrid stands in the doorway, one bag over his shoulder and another in his hand. He looks tired.

“Hello, Duck. Ah, I guess that one is my bed, then.”

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

The class schedules for Amnesty are generated by the heart of the school itself. Indrid isn’t entirely sure what that means, but the heart must not be terribly creative. It stuck him in divination class. He’s been seeing the future since he was five, managing it with his drawings since he was eight. Even the professor has no idea what to do with him, since the images come in like a garbled T.V signal when he uses a crystal ball and the cup shattered when he tried to read tea leaves.

At least Barclay gave him a conciliatory caramel while they swept up the shards. It made him feel a bit better, though whether that’s due to enchantment or Barclay being exceedingly good at cooking is hard to say.

And now he has to go to “Magical Weaponry.” Magical Defense he understands; there are still lots of malicious forces out there, or even just everyday evils that it’s good to be able to ward against. Plus, Vincent is a good professor, enthusiastic and understanding.

Professor Minerva is just as enthusiastic but twice as loud. This is their first day in the actual gym, as opposed to at a blackboard, and his visions suggest it’s going to go poorly for him. As it should; he’s not a fighter, he’s a disaster.

At Amnesty, magic is channeled through objects. Most people use wands or their hands but some, like Aubrey, use jewelry (a necklace from her mother) or another accessory.

Duck Newton uses a sword. Or he’s trying to. The sword seems to be winning.

“Exert your will on him, Duck Newton, he answers to you!”

“I answeeer to only the capable.”

“Shut up, Beacon.” Duck adjusts his grasp, but nothing happens until he drops the sword and sends a spell through his fingers. The target explodes. Indrid suddenly feels a bit better about his own probable performance.

Duck notices him, indicates the practice area next to him is clear. While they started off poorly, his roommate is doing his best to demonstrate southern hospitality. He invites Indrid to eat with him, helps him when his visions offer no help in navigating the grounds, and even lent him a blue and green shirt (Amnesty's colors) for his first Spirit Day. Duck is the best thing to happen to him in his first month here.

By the time class is over, they have six broken targets, a shredded mat, and a knife that is now a very confused frog between them. They manage to laugh about it, even as Duck scoops up the amphibian and tucks him into his shirt pocket.

It’s then that Indrid realizes he has a crush.

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

“You comin to the game tonight?” Juno measures her sapling.

“Assumin nothin comes up and nobody’s tryin to kill me, you know I’ll be there.” He loves cheering Juno on during her soccer games (hey, not everything has to be magic based, even at a wizarding school).

“Drat.”

The hissed frustration draws his attention to the far end of the work table. Indrid is trying to coax his Venus Flytraps to perk up, but they remain brown and limp.

“Need some help?”

“Please, as you clearly know what you’re doing.” Indrid tilts his head towards the sapling pine tree Duck is working on. If he does his growing spells right, he’ll be able to take it home as a Christmas Tree during winter break.

“You tend to picture words or, uh,pictures when you do your spells?”

“Images work best. The trouble is that the futures sometimes make it difficult for me to picture a spell clearly.”

“What if I try describing how I’d see it and you picture what I say?”

“It’s worth a try.” Indrid closes his eyes.

“Okay. Think about the roots drawin water up from the soil, about the traps absorbin nutrients from prey. That brown is goin green as they do, they’re stems are growin stronger…” he grins as the plant turns bright green, it’s mouths open, “hey, ‘Drid, look”

“Oh!” Indrid flaps his hands, “it worked! Now I can keep them healthy and big andohno, nono not again.”

The table cracks and collapses as the plant turns gigantic, blocking out the light from the greenhouse roof.

“Holy fuck, that’s great!”

“Language, sport, but I agree.” Thacker, the head of the magical Horticulture classes, whistles as he looks the plant up and down, “this is mighty impressive Indrid. Wonder if we could use it on some pumpkins come fall…”

“I don’t recommend it, unless you want them to chase people.” Indrid points to one of the heads, which is swaying in the air and lowering closer to him. It snaps and he leaps back, falling to a pile of potting soil. Thacker raises his walking stick and the flytrap returns to its proper size.

Duck helps Indrid up, but his friend stays quiet through the end of class and on the walk back to their room.

“You know it ain’t anythin to be ashamed of, right?” Duck flips on the light, “we all fuck up spells now and then. Hell, Aubrey is on track to be the best spellcaster this school’s ever seen and she still has trouble.”

“But mine go haywire constantly” Indrid flops, dejected, onto his bed, “forget mastering my powers, I’ll be lucky if I graduate able to keep them in check. If I graduate at all.” His hand searches the bed blindly; Duck sets the weighted, plush bat into so Indrid can set it on his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never lasted more than a year at a magical school. Or a non-magical one. I started at Mt Vernon when I was fifteen. Tried Deep Hollow and Shasta the year after that. I’m powerful but I can’t seem to channel it well, and three different schools decided I was more trouble than I was worth.”

“Bullshit.” Duck rests a hand on Indrid’s knee, “you’re strugglin with somethin; that means you need more help, not less. And if anyone gets it into their heads to kick you outta Amnesty, I’ll raise a goddamn ruckus.”

Indrid chuckles, quiet and disbelieving.

“I’m serious. You know Aubrey and them would side with me, and Joe knows school policy well enough he could probably find a reason why them tryin to get rid of you was against the rule.”

“Thank you.” Indrid’s smile is a rare flower, fragile and stunning.

“You want one of those calm-down caramels Barclay made?”

“Please.”

Duck grabs the box from the cabinet of their little kitchenette, then snags a Coke and a pineapple soda from the fridge. Indrid is no longer horizontal, is instead sitting with his back to the wall so Duck has space to join him.

Under the fizz of fresh bubbles, his friend murmurs, ‘“Have people really tried to kill you?”

“Yep. Someone sent an assassin after me my first year, and there was a Dire wolf on the grounds last winter that was clearly locked on to my scent. Perk of bein a Chosen One.” He grumbles as he swigs his drink.

“...Who on earth sends an assassin after a fifteen year old?”

“Right?! Fuck if I know, they never got any information out of the guy. Fuckin prophecy I swear, I didn’t even want these powers, let alone to be some kind of hero.”

“I sympathize.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “there are prophecies around my birth as well.”

Duck clunks their bottles together, “To bein’ fucked over by stuff we can’t control.”

Indrid drains his soda, then perks up, “Oh! Oh dear, you should go if you want to be there for Juno’s match.”

“Come with me?” Duck can’t get the image of the two of them sharing a giant pretzel while smushed thigh to thigh on the bleachers out of his head.

His friend grins, “Of course.”

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

Duck hoped, after his not-great time in middle school, that a magic academy would be asshole free. But no, there are assholes everywhere, and these ones have even more tools for tormenting their targets. He’s never been one, nor have any of his friends. The one time someone tried to bully Barclay, Dani sicked three spectral hummingbirds on them until they apologized.

Indrid, odd and new, is an easy target, though he seems to hold his own just fine (and his proximity to the most powerful witch in school does scare off many potential antagonists). But three guys in their Magical Defense class have zeroed in on him.

They’re standing in line to practice against an evil eye when Indrid’s glasses, the ones he doesn’t take off even when he sleeps, hit the floor by Duck’s feet. Duck scrambles to grab them before they get stepped on, wondering why everyone is making such a fuss. Then he turns and backs up in alarm.

An eight foot tall moth creature is where Indrid should be, red eyes wide and claws clicking together anxious.

“Who let that thing in here?” Someone yells from behind him.

Indrid’s antenna flatten.

“Fuck, wasn’t expecting him to be that big a freak” one of the bullies scoffs.

Black wings twitch.

“Newton, give him the glasses back so we don’t have to look at him!”

Indrid trills, upset, and leaps into the air at the same moment Aubrey yells, “that’s enough” and Vincent shouts a reminder about no flames in enclosed spaces and also detention for you three. Duck is to busy climbing out the window Indrid flew through to pick up the details.

One two-story fall later, he’s chasing a dark shape into the Monongahela forest. While the parts of the woods near his hometown of Kepler are non-enchanted, this chunk is magic down to the moss (he plans to write his final year project on how those halves of forest mesh on an ecological level). One of the worst aspects of the enchanted portions is their tendency to re-shape around travelers. His usual way around this is to have an unwavering sense of where he’s going and pretend the woods are giving him an unchanging path to get there. But that trick does fuck-all when he doesn’t know his destination.

After two hours of searching he’s no closer to finding Indrid, it’s getting dark, and he’s debating heading back to the school for help. He hasn’t been this deep in the woods since he fled the Dire Wolf, and he knows the deeper you go into the trees, the wilder the magic becomes. Bad news for him, even worse for his friend who's out there somewhere, upset and alone.

Eight gigantic eyes glitter at him from the dirt, and he quickly rearranges who has it worse right now.

Throwing a burst of light into the trapdoor spiders eyes buys him enough time to bolt to a tree and climb. As soon as it crawls free of its burrow he freezes; if he’s remembering right, they use vibrations to locate prey.

Fuck, that thing is the size of a VW Beatle. Why is that even a thing? No spider needs to be this big!

In spite of his stillness, it spies him and sets its forelimbs on the tree-trunk. There’s nothing else for it; he draws Beacon, pictures the spider shrinking, and casts his spell.

A soft crunch of leaves signals it hitting the ground, now an unremarkable size for an arachnid. Just as he steps down a branch, a second trap door opens and an enraged spider bursts out, looking for it’s friend. When it can’t find it, it turns and snaps its mandibles at Duck. This time, Beacon does nothing, no matter how Duck commands and curses as his eight-legged doom gets closer.

A crackle of electricity and then this spider disappears as well. On the other side of the trunk, red eyes regard him with worry, “are you hurt?”

“Nah, all in one piece thanks to you.” He holds out his hand, “you wanna head back?”

“Yes, please.” Indrid flaps to the ground, Duck following him on foot and then turning them towards campus, “you did not need to come look for me.”

“Course I did, not gonna let my friend get swallowed up by the forest. Oh, here” he holds out the red glasses, “you want these back?”

“Not just yet. That is, if this form is not too alarming to you.”

Duck takes in the glossy feathers, the charming ruff, the way the face is still obviously Indrid yet excitingly new, “I’m good.”

Light flickers from black claws, stars and flowers spinning out with ease, “It’s so much easier when I’m like this. I never foresaw my disguise charm being an issue, but the older I’ve gotten the more it seems to influence my ability to control my spells. But, well, you saw how people reacted. Even you were startled.”

“In my defense, I thought you’d been eaten by, well, you.” Duck casts the same spell, vines of light chasing the red flowers, “I’m still sorry, though. You ain’t horrible like this, ‘Drid; you’re fuckin stunnin. Never seen anyone as incredible as you.”

Indrid stops, looking down at him, “Do you truly mean that?”

Duck rises on his toes, pecking his cheek, “Yeah, I do.”

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

The Halloween Formal is the most elaborate event at Amnesty. Indrid feels that if there’s any day he’s within his rights to be in his true form, it’s when everyone else is dressed as monsters.

He doesn’t have a date. He thought Duck was in the same predicament. Then his friend left before he was half-done grooming his feathers, saying he needed to get flowers for his hot date.

Ah well. At least Indrid will get to see him there and spend some time with his friends.

He checks his reflection in the gleaming black walls, orange and purple lights glowing and jack’o lanterns floating above his head. He adjusts his robes, the nice red ones his father sent him, and prepares to enter the ballroom.

“Hold up.”

When he turns, Duck is standing there in his black dress shirt and green tie, looking for all the world like he’s alone.

“You got one more thing to put on” He holds out a bracelet of flowers, sized to slip perfectly over Indrid’s hand. There are matching flowers pinned to one side of Duck’s hair.

“Oh. Oh my. You really-”

Duck uses a small spell to bend Indrid into a kiss; it’s a bit messy, since their mouths aren’t meant to fit together, but Indrid would not trade it for all the magic in the world.

“Yeah, ‘Drid, I really do.” With that, Duck offers his elbow and they walk arm in arm into the great hall.

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugly #wizard au

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Day 27: Intrulogical (TW)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 27 - Your eyes match your soulmate’s hair color. If they dye their hair, your eyes change colors.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!! Attempted rape (by unnamed OC), drugging, implied underage drinking (though none is actually seen), emetophobia/vomiting, Halloween, alcohol, characters being tipsy/drunk, parties. Happy/satisfying ending.

Word count: 4.7k

Logan lived his life based on routine. In a world of constant change, it felt comforting to always know what his next step was. His mornings always started the same; wake up at seven o’clock sharp, sneak to the dorm bathroom in an attempt to not wake his essentially nocturnal roommate, and brush his teeth. Wet the toothbrush, pea sized amount of toothpaste, wet the brush again, and start on the left side of his mouth. Brush for exactly two minutes, wash face, and then attempt to calm down the bedhead. He’d sneak back into the room, change silently, and then make his way to the shared kitchen to make cereal for breakfast. The only variable in his routine was which fruit he’d eat along with his Cheerios. Then he’d triple check that all of his homework was packed properly, and head off to his morning class.

Except today.

For someone who rarely got distracted from his normal routine, he was surprisingly still as he glared, shocked, into his reflection. Water still dripped off his face and all over the counter, but he couldn’t tear his attention from it. Because his normally dark brown eyes were now neon green.

“Are you kidding me?!” He yelled before he could stop himself, storming back into their room and dropping back onto his bed.

“What’s’it?” Virgil mumbled, lifting his exhausted face from where they’d been smooshed into the pillows. Logan spun his face up towards the top bunk, jaw clenched, and gestured towards his eyes.

“I have a presentation today!” Logan continued, looking away from Virgil’s failed attempt to cover a smile, “And I look ridiculous! No one will take me seriously!”

“Just in time for Halloween, I guess. They just look like contacts.”

“Hallow-” Logan sprung to his desk to look at his calendar accusingly, groaning when he realized it was in fact the thirty first. “Ugh, I have a paper due tomorrow!”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the party now, Lo. I already promised people I’d go, and I’m not going alone.”

“I won’t back out of the party,” Logan grumbled, crossing his arms. Virgil gave a satisfied hum, flopping back into his comforter. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled.

“Out of all people, I’m surprised you forgot.”

“So sue me, if a frivolous game of promiscuous dress up comes after passing my classes in the list of importance.”

The emo snorted. “What’s your costume gonna be?”

“I am not wearing a costume!” Logan’s voice was almost offended.

“You already look like a traffic light. Might as well complete the look.”

Logan grumbled angrily, marching back toward the bathroom to finish getting ready. “I’m not wearing a costume. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Aw, c’mon, Lo. For me?”

That stopped Logan in his tracks. He spun around and took a careful breath, glaring down his overly pleased roommate. “Fine. Just for you.”

Virgil gave another satisfied hum, before squinting his eyes at Logan scrutinizingly. “I wonder if your eyes glow in the dark. Can you imagine if the prof turns the lights off for a presentation and-”

“UUUGGHHH!” Logan yowled as he slammed the bathroom door shut, shaking his head at Virgil’s snickers.

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

They were meeting up at the party at the end of classes (right about when Virgil tended to wake up), so Logan headed there directly after his final class, just as the evening sun was fading behind the horizon. It was already packed with people already picking the snack and drinks table bare, a lopsided sign that said ‘21+ only’ forgotten near an empty beer box. If Logan were to assume correctly, the sign was only there to assuage the conscience of whoever was hosting tonight, and not actually to stop the underage drinking. Even if he was above legal drinking age, he still didn’t experience many of the positives of drinking, so he grabbed a can of iced tea and stood next to a wall to wait for Virgil.

It hadn’t been a full five minutes before a man sidled up to him, sipping from a half empty beer bottle and watching Logan with a careful eye. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in return, barely acknowledging the newcomer’s presence.

“What’s a wallflower like you doing at a rager like this?” He drawled with an almost audible impish smile.

“If this is considered a rager, I’d hate to see what a calm party looks like.”

“Aw, we just haven’t gotten started yet! We’re fueling up for when the moon comes out. And you haven’t answered my question, flower.”

“I’m simply waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, and does this friend have a name?” He purred.

Frustrated, Logan turned to the man, and promptly froze. Looking down at him with pitch black eyes was a person in a costume he couldn’t recognize; a black and white striped suit that looked like he’d raked it through dust, and a mold green tie. The stubble on his face could have been his own five o’clock shadow or makeup, but it only functioned to make him look far hotter than what was fair. What was most shocking though, and Logan was baffled that he’d missed it in the initial approach, was the mop of electric-shock-straight neon green hair on his head.

“He- I don’t-”

“Didn’t take you for the type to get flustered,” The man snorted, taking another sip. “What do you have? Aw, iced tea? And not even spiked? A crime.”

How did he not see Logan’s eyes? The hair was the exact same color; Logan would know. He’d spend the whole day watching his reflection, hoping that his soulmate would have some mercy and dye their hair back to its original color. Neon green was not exactly the most subtle color, and he had not missed the snickers or silent glances from his classmates and professors all day. So the question remained, why wasn’t this guy saying anything?

“I don’t drink. I tend to just become lethargic when I do.” He answered instead, gripping his can a little tighter. It took far too much effort to keep his voice from straining.

“Fair enough. I’m not pressuring you to drink, no worries. At least we’ll have one sober mind at this party tonight.” The taller man winked at him, flashing him that stupidly stunning smile again.

But then it occurred to Logan as he kept searching the man’s dark eyes desperately. His eyes were too dark, almost pitch black, while Logan’s hair was several shades lighter. So... there was no way they were soulmates. Just as quickly as the hope had exploded in his stomach, it dissipated, leaving him feeling more exhausted than usual. Stupid feelings.

“Logan, there you are!” An unusually loud voice called through his stupor and he spun around to see Virgil’s fanged smile. In the back of his mind, he remembered watching Virgil putting together his elaborate vampire costume over the last few weeks, but he’d never seen the full thing put together until now. “Ah, and Remus found you. Scram, Beetlejuice.”

Remus, apparently, didn’t seem at all offended by the jab. Instead, he seemed to smile wider. “Nice to see you too, emo. Is that any way to treat the host of the party?”

To Logan’s surprise, Virgil smiled too. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to give Logan a heart attack.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Dracula. Why don’t you go get a drink, and I’ll keep him company?”

“Nuh uh. No way. Not leaving him with you any longer than I have already.” With that, Virgil hooked his arm through Logan’s and led him back to the drink table.

“Remember, Virgil, drinks are only for the big kids!”

“I’m older than you are!” He flipped the bird over Logan’s shoulder to the host, earning a barked laugh in response. “He never lets me forget I’m a whole three inches shorter than him.”

“You know the host of the party?”

Virgil hummed in response, pouring himself a cup of punch that reeked of alcohol. “How else would I get invited? We were in English together in third year, and I haven’t been able to shake him since. He’s like a leech.”

“You seem friendly with him.”

The elder froze, solo cup barely touching his lips as he looked over Logan slowly. “Everything okay? You’re not usually this… quiet.” They could both tell it wasn’t the word he’d wanted to use.

For a brief moment, Logan considered telling Virgil about his brief flair of hope, about how for a single second he’d felt nothing but relief and desire and elation, and how it had been ripped away from him just as quickly. But then he realized that, no, Virgil didn’t need that to bring down the mood of the first party he’d attended in a year, since his anxiety had flared. If it still bothered him after the party, he’d bring it up. That was unlikely, though. Logan was especially gifted in the art of repression.

“I’m just a tad out of my element. Nothing to worry about,” he responded with a smile. Virgil didn’t fall for it, if the way he watched Logan as he sipped his drink was anything to go off of, but he did them both the favor of not pushing it. For now.

“I thought I told you to wear a costume,” Virgil gasped as he drained the cup, immediately refilling it from the same bowl.

“I did.” Logan gestured towards the single piece of paper taped to his white shirt. It took Virgil a moment to squint through the darkening light to make-out the black sharpie, reading allowed.

“‘Error 404, Costume Not Found.’ That does not count, Logan!” He laughed nonetheless, just as a deep bass filled the house. Apparently, the party had begun. He didn’t have a good argument for Virgil’s accusation, since he technically thought it very much did count, but arguing with the other was a waste of time. The two men were equally matched in the stubbornness department.

The lights disappeared for a good few seconds before the house was illuminated in strobe lights, and the music’s volume exploded. Virgil laughed giddily; apparently his plan to get buzzed before the party could give him anxiety was intentional.

“They do, ya know.”

Logan looked at him in confusion, and shouted over the roaring music. “What?”

“Your eyes! They do glow in the dark!”

“Shut up!”

“You look like a glowstick!” He began to giggle wildly, leaning on Logan for support.

“No more drinks for a good half hour, Virge,” Logan chided gently, replacing his solo cup with a water bottle from the table. Virgil whined but plucked out his vampire fangs so he could drink from the small spout easier.

“Let’s dance,” Virgil said, grabbing Logan’s arm and leading him into the crowd.

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

Logan guessed it was well past midnight when Virgil tugged on his arm for the third time, leaning close to his ear and shouting that he had to go to the bathroom.

“Again?!” Logan called back at the vampire’s back. There was no malice in his words, not when he knew Virgil had been anxious to go to this party and he tended to drink more water when he was anxious. It was just all coming back for revenge now.

To Logan’s delight, the excitement of the party had started to push out the event from earlier. His mood was no longer dampened by the let down of what he thought was meeting his soulmate, and he could finally enjoy the one event he allowed himself to go to this semester. School was important, but he allowed this for Virgil. He hadn’t expected himself to have a good time as well.

It wasn’t even a minute after Virgil had left that there was a loud shout and Logan was jostled harshly to the side, the front of his shirt immediately soaking red from the cup of punch spilled on him. His own drink clattered to the floor.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry!” A man Logan didn’t recognize started to pat at his chest with a handful of tissues, an action that for some reason caused the smaller man to cringe.

“No worries. It was bound to happen eventually. Perhaps a white shirt wasn’t my smartest idea,” He responded sharply, taking the tissues from the other and dabbing himself off to the best of his abilities. Slightly relieved that he now had a valid reason, he ripped off his poor attempt at a costume and crumpled up the soaking wet paper in the hand not trying in vain to dry himself. Despite Logan obviously being uninterested, the taller man stayed where he was, watching Logan’s actions with fierce intensity. His lip curled as his eyes trailed down the now nearly see-through shirt.

“If you wanted, I could get that shirt off of you. Fool around, give it some time to dry?”

“I’m so flattered,” Logan deadpanned, “But no thanks.”

“Aw, too bad,” The man cooed, shrugging. His demeanor did a full one-eighty, his predatory gaze replaced with innocence, “Was worth a try. Let me at least get you a new drink, since I ruined your other one.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“I insist.” He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder, causing a tingling cold to spread through his whole body. The smaller man barely contained a shudder as the man gave him another wolf like grin before disappearing into the crowd towards the drinks table.

Logan was hoping he’d forgotten, and just wouldn’t come back, but the man reappeared in moments, popping open a pink lemonade and handing it to him.

“Saw your other drink was non-alcoholic, so I got the only other one left.”

“Uhm…” Logan looked critically at the can, his alarm bells flaring. But… he’d seen the man open it, right? So it’s not as if he could have done something to it. Perhaps this guy really did have the right intentions, just an iffy way of showing them. “Thank you.”

He took a sip as the man smiled with too much teeth. “So, are you here alone?”

“No,” Logan responded a little less coolly, “I’m here with a friend. He just went to the bathroom.” Another sip.

“Oh, that’s fun! Are you guys in the same year?”

“Yes. We are both fourth years.” The man was acting kinder, and Logan was starting to consider that perhaps their initial meeting had been a misunderstanding on his part. Maybe he had just wanted to help out, but Logan, being cynical as always, had assumed the worst. Wasn’t that just like him, though? Always so quick to conclusions, ruining good things before they have a chance to happen. Trying to chase away his annoyance with himself and the bitter taste it had left on his tongue, he took a longer swig of the can.

“Hey, me too! I’m an English major, what about you?”

“Business with an astronomy minor.”

“That sounds difficult. How many semester hours are you clocking at right now?”

“I… uhm…” And for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. It was a high number, he knew for sure. He shook his head. “Fifteen, sixteen? Maybe seventeen?”

The man whistled. “Damn, impressive. Remind me of your name, again?”

Had he told him in the first place? “Logan.”

“And what brings a studious man such as yourself to a party like this?”

“My- My friend.” Logan couldn’t help shake his head again, hoping the fog in his mind would scatter. That’s what he got, staying out this late when his sleep schedule was usually so precise. “He doesn’t like… parties. So he asked…” He blinked hard a couple times, finding himself swaying on his feet. “He asked me…”

“Hey, are you okay?” The man placed his hand on his arm in an ironclad grip, holding him steady, “Logan, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I… Dizzy,” He murmured, reaching up blearily and grabbing onto him.

“Are you dehydrated? Maybe you should drink some more.”

What were the symptoms of dehydration again? Dizziness, check. Fatigue, check. Confusion, check. Thirst? Yeah, he could drink something, but he’d been drinking all night, so why…

The can dropped from his hand, the second one tonight, and he tried weakly to pull away. Instead of letting him go, the man pulled him closer, wrapping an arm bruisingly tight around his waist.

“You… you drugged-”

“You don’t look so good, Logan. Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down, yeah?”

“No, I don’t…” He was unable to escape, barely able to keep his feet under him, as the man started dragging him to the stairs. Where the hell is Virgil? Logan could feel tears pricking his eyes as his breathing hitched, and for the first time in years, he felt real panic. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t-

“Let him the fuck go!”

A voice distinctly not Virgil’s shouted over the music, and Logan didn’t even dare hope it’s directed at the man still clutching him. His luck would never be that good. But through his blurry vision, a pin striped blob with a mess of green hair breaks through the crowd, marching distinctly up to them.

“He came here with me.” Logan could just make out the stronger man’s words through his dizzied state. “He just had a bit too much to drink. I’m going to let him lay down.”

“Like hell you are. Give him to me.”

“How dare you-”

“Logan. Doesn’t. Drink. And I know who he came here with.” Remus snarled, edging towards the duo threateningly, “Now let go of him before I break your fucking jaw.”

With almost as much physical relief as emotional, the man finally released his painful hold on Logan and shoved his way through the crowd, the distant shouts of inconvenienced partygoers near the door the only signal that he’d completely left.

For all his effort, Logan couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed. At first the feeling of strong arms picking him up bridal style caused him to panic and he lashed out, feebly hitting the chest of whoever was holding him. Realizing they were now walking up the stairs, the same place the other man had been pulling him, caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Woah there, Lo. You’re okay. It’s just me, it’s Remus, okay? Take a deep breath, just relax. I won’t hurt you.”

For some reason that Logan couldn’t fathom, the words calmed him down. Somewhere, Logan acknowledged that even though Virgil had known Remus for a while, Logan had only talked to him for a total of five minutes, and he probably shouldn’t trust an essential stranger when he’s like this. He’s just too tired to fight though, no matter how his adrenaline is pumping.

“V’rg’l,” Logan whimpered, clutching Remus' shirt with all the strength of a wet leaf, “W’nt h’m.”

“I’ll get Virgil as soon as you’re safe, okay? Don’t worry,” Remus’ soothing voice rumbled through Logan from where he was pressed to the taller’s chest, making his eyelids flutter. His arms felt like over boiled pasta and his stomach was doing flips, but Remus’ voice broke through the fog he was in and settled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the drugs.

“We’re at the top of the stairs now, okay? I’ll take you to my room, since it’s the only one with a lock. So we know there won’t be any horny college kids in there, making a mess of my sheets. Gotta unlock it without dropping you, hold on, and… A HAH! Got it. You want the light on or off?”

Logan couldn’t compute the question, much less make a choice. He made a sound that was slightly reminiscent of a stalled car engine, letting his head loll towards the lump that he assumed was a bed.

“Let’s compromise.” With all the care in the world, Logan was placed onto the sheets and gently rolled onto his side, a heavy comforter pulled up to his shoulders. Remus shifted away and a dim light flashed through his eyelids, enough to notice but definitely not enough to hurt his throbbing head. A table lamp, probably.

“No falling asleep on me, okay? You need to stay awake. I don’t know what that fucker gave you. I’m texting Virgil now, he’ll be here soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

Logan opened his eyes despite his overwhelming urge to sleep, and was immediately assaulted by a swirl of colors as the world tilted. An explosion of nausea tilted him forward and he pushed himself up on his elbows.

“‘m g’nna-” He didn’t have to finish his sentence before there was a plastic garbage can under his cheek and he heaved, throwing up the remnants of dinner and all he drank that evening. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed as he flopped back down onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Oh, Logan,” Remus whispered.

There was a pounding on the door and Logan didn’t even have the energy to flinch from the violent sound. Remus stood quickly and unlocked it, barely opening it before someone barreled into the room, the newcomer gasping for breath.

“What the fuck happened?!” Virgil screamed, dropping on his knees next to the bed, hand reaching up to lay on Logan’s cheek.

“He got roofied by some motherfucker I haven’t seen before. I caught him in the stairwell before anything happened.” Remus was still standing by the open door. The music was flowing in louder now, and Virgil’s raged shouting wasn’t helping his headache at all.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this. I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Virgil, you’re real hot when you’re pissed, but calm the hell down. Yelling won’t help Logan.”

“You’re… shit, you’re right. Okay. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Watch him. Keep him on his side, bin’s to your left if he has to hurl again. I’m cutting this shit show.”

Logan finally cracked his eyes open as the door shut, Virgil leaning backwards to lock it. When he turned back and saw his friend’s eyes open, he almost wept.

“I’m so sorry Lo, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“‘s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I got distracted talking to someone, but I should have come back sooner. You could’ve… You could’ve been…”

“Not y’r fa’lt,” Logan mumbled, reaching over blindly to try and find Virgil’s hand. The other must have sensed his intentions and gripped onto the flailing limb, interlocking their fingers.

“You better not be blaming yourself.”

Technically, he was. He should have been more careful, shouldn’t have taken a drink from a stranger, should have noticed something was off the moment his mind started to fade. Never in his life would he say that this kind of situation was the victim’s fault but… he couldn’t help it when it came to himself. He’d always been self critical that way. Bringing this up to Virgil would be a death wish, though, and an argument he certainly did not have the energy for right now.

The music cut off downstairs and Logan sighed in relief, nearly smiling at Remus’ shout for everyone to get out of his house. For someone he’d met once, he was protective, that was for sure.

Virgil didn’t force him to talk. They both just enjoyed the silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional shout from downstairs and Virgil’s sniffles. Logan couldn’t exactly blame him; he’d cry too if he had the brainpower. He didn’t though, which was the problem, so he allowed his hand to be held and allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of a thumb brushing over his knuckles.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Virgil reached over to unlock it, allowing Remus to walk back in. “Sorry that took so long. Wanted to double check that anyone using someone else as a crutch was black out drunk, not drugged. Here, sit him up.”

Virgil shifted so he was behind Logan and pulled him up against him, holding him steady as Remus lifted a glass of water to his lips. “You have to be thirsty. Do your best to keep this down, Lo.” Suddenly realizing how thirsty he actually was, Logan downed half the glass before Remus pulled it away. “Not so much, you’ll get sick.” There was a clink as the glass was placed on the bed side table. “We need to take him to the hospital. I don’t know how much whatever the fucker gave him.”

“I’m too drunk to drive,” Virgil said, gently lowering Logan back onto his side.

“I didn’t drink that much, but I’m not safe either. You got a friend who can take us?”

“Yeah,” The shorter mumbled as he shakily typed in his phone password, “I’m going to call Patton, just a second.” He moved to the furthest corner of the small room and the conversation faded into the background. At least Virgil was talking… that meant Patton picked up, right?

“Shitty way to end a pretty spectacular holiday,” Remus stated as he sat back on his spot, letting a hand rest on Logan’s leg.

“‘m s’rry.”

“Ah, shit, that’s not what I meant. I’m mad for you, not at you. Ya know,” As he spoke, he reached up and did something to his eyes, almost picking at them, “Halloween’s the only valid holiday in my book. Christmas is too overrated, Easter is senseless, Thanksgiving? No thanks, I don’t glorify genocide. But Halloween? I get to dress slutty or spooky or fucking ridiculous, and no one can give me two shits about it. I get to throw ragers and stab gourds into faces and buy discount candy until I’m fifty percent chocolate. I mean, I dyed my hair green for it, paid extra for the glow in the dark shit, and all I got were compliments.”

His hands had returned to his lap and he was fiddling with something. Logan tried to make out what it was, but it just looked like black plastic. Tiny, flexible pieces of black plastic. That Remus had pulled from his eyes.

They were colored contacts.

“I guess I do kind of blame Roman for getting me into Beetlejuice, but it is one of his least favorite musicals, so it’s also a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to him-”

“R’mus,” He breathed, and even that faint call was enough to snap Remus back to him. The taller man turned to him immediately, and Logan forgot how to breathe.

Because his eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the single lamp, they absolutely shone.

His eyes were the same brown as Logan’s hair, and Logan’s eyes became that offensive green around the same time as Remus dyed his for the costume, and that’s all the confirmation Logan needed to push himself up onto the hands and lunge forward to kiss him. The effort is strenuous and the lurch almost makes him heave again, but oh Lord, he just found his soulmate and it’s actually him and-

“Woah, woah woah woah. Hold on there, cowboy.” Remus gently pushes him back down before their lips can meet, “You are very drugged right now. I am not kissing you drugged. Sober, hell yes. But not like this.”

“Y’re my-”

“Soulmate. I know. I kind of figured when I saw your eyes. But I figured… I might as well get you to like me before I dropped that kind of bombshell. Although… I was hoping that would be accomplished by basic flirting, but then the party started getting out of hand, so I was always busy with-”

“Patton’s on his way,” Virgil spoke up, joining the two on the bed. “You okay, Lo?”

“He figured it out,” Remus said softly, letting a hand card through Logan’s hair.

“I was wondering how long that would take.”

Logan gave a weak smile, his own fear and adrenaline starting wear off slightly. He was safe here, and he felt like he wasn’t going to be let out of sight for a while.

“Drink some more water, wallflower,” Remus whispered, helping him sit up, “We’ll take care of you.”

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #i kind of visualized that the man dropped the roofie in from his palm when he opened the drink #but i couldnt find a place to add that #not really that important tho #virgil sanders #patton sanders #rape tw #drugging tw #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #ts soulmate au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau

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iwasntsupposedtogetinvestedhelp · 3 years ago

Text

A Quick Snack (With a Little Pear Compote)

I am here once again to write more Twisted Wonderland - this time starring one very good boy by the name of Jack :)

This takes place in the same universe as Late Night Dinner (With A Side Of Donuts) , and I’ve posted this fic on Ao3 that you can read here if you prefer. Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

About a week after….everything that had happened with dorm leader Leona, Jack noticed something very peculiar.

Well, technically it started before then. It started when Jack hadn’t been able to sleep one night - the exact reason didn’t really matter - and he noticed that he couldn’t sense Ruggie in the area. By that, he meant that while Ruggie was still in the Savanaclaw dorm, he certainly wasn’t asleep; Jack could tell he was just wandering around the dorm, staying out of his room for a good portion of the night.

(If he had to guess…it was probably because his room was next to Leona’s. Those kinds of wounds don’t heal overnight.)

Jack had let him be. It wasn’t like he could do anything, anyway - it wasn’t his place. This was between Leona and Ruggie to figure out, not him. Even still, he found himself listening for Ruggie each night without really meaning to - if nothing else, at least to make sure he actually got back to his room just fine.

(If he heard Leona pacing around his room each night, well, that wasn’t his place to say either.)

At that week mark though, something changed. For one thing, Jack noticed that Ruggie had outright left the dorms this time, rather than simply pacing around like he’d been doing. For another, he actually came back much sooner than he would’ve if he was just pacing around the dorm - only a couple hours rather than at least half the night.

…Maybe Jack was having a little trouble sleeping himself. But that was besides the point.

This time, when Jack noticed Ruggie returning to the dorms, he could smell something else along with him. It smelled like…donuts? Where did he get those from? Jack was pretty sure the cafeteria hadn’t made any lately. But there was a much more important change.

Ruggie’s steps were much lighter than they’d been when he left. Like he was happier, or at least more content than he’d been before. Jack listened in mild surprise as Ruggie’s steps led back to his room, the door opening and closing quietly as he seemingly went to bed for the night. Quite a few questions swirled through his head, though Jack tried to push them to the side for now. Well, since he was back, Jack didn’t need to keep an eye out for him anymore. It was past time he went to bed, anyway.

(“Shut up, all of you! I’ll turn you into sand!”)

…

On second thought, he still had some homework he needed to finish, didn’t he? He should probably finish that first before he heads to bed. Better to get it done now rather than forget later.

…Nevermind the fact that there wasn’t actually any homework due tomorrow.

Jack had assumed that this would be a one-time occurrence; about Ruggie leaving the dorms like he did, at least. A part of him couldn’t help but hope that it meant that his lighter steps that night meant that Ruggie wouldn’t be pacing around the dorms anymore period, as if he’d finally found peace with the situation or something.

(He did find it a little strange when he noticed Ruggie and Yuuto glancing at one another during lunch, though. If Jack had to guess, it must’ve had something to do with last night - though it wasn’t any of his business, anyway.)

As it turned out though, that clearly wasn’t the case.

He’d been just about to turn in for the night (somewhat hoping he’d manage to sleep better tonight), when he heard something faintly. His ears twitched as they reacted to the now familiar sound of Ruggie leaving his room - must’ve been another night he just couldn’t sleep, huh?

Though he was definitely surprised when Ruggie, again, left the dorm entirely - though at a later time than he used to. Guess it wasn’t just a one time occurrence after all. Though it wasn’t like Jack was purposely keeping an ear out, listening for Ruggie as he came and went, steps lighter on the return compared to the departure. His ears just happened to be more sensitive than most, alright?

…Jack couldn’t help but wonder though. Whatever was going on…was it really helping Ruggie sleep?

Could it help him sleep too?

After a couple weeks of observing this pattern, Jack made his choice. That night, when Ruggie left the dorm as he usually did, Jack followed him. Granted, he was only following because he was curious about where Ruggie kept going every night - that’s it.

Jack quietly followed Ruggie out of the dorms - somewhat surprised that Ruggie didn’t seem to notice him. It wasn’t like he was really trying to be particularly sneaky or anything - but then again, maybe Ruggie was just himself tired enough to not notice.

Somewhat distantly, he wasn’t all that surprised when he realized about halfway through the main building that Jack was heading to the cafeteria. What he was surprised by, however, was the scent in the air.

Was that…pears?

Ruggie definitely noticed the scent, practically skipping off into the kitchen, steps suddenly lighter than they’d been on the way here. Jack had to force himself to slow down and not give himself away out of pure curiosity (and no, his tail was not wagging, so shut up) as he carefully peeked around the doorway.

…In hindsight, he really shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was to see Yuuto there. That didn’t stop him from feeling surprised as he watched Ruggie waltz over to the dorm leader, the two already much more familiar with one another than he would’ve expected.

“So, whatcha makin’ tonight?” He heard Ruggie ask in a playful tone, already peeking around Yuuto to get a peek at the stove.

“Pear compote,” Yuuto answered simply - and no, Jack’s tail was not wagging, shut up - as he continued to stir at the pot on the stove. “I remembered a recipe for these really fluffy-looking pancakes I wanted to try making, but I figured just plain syrup would be boring.”

“Shishishi~ I can’t wait!” Ruggie snickered. Jack almost didn’t hear him, almost embarrassingly entranced by the scent in the air. In fact, he was so focused on the scent of the pears that he almost didn’t hear what Ruggie said next.

He did, though.

“I’m sure the “big bad wolf” that was followin’ me can’t wait either!” Ruggie said with another snicker; Jack completely froze when it registered in his mind.

Okay, sure, he wasn’t being the sneakiest - but he thought Ruggie hadn’t noticed him! He seemed completely distracted!

…Jack tried not to feel embarrassed by the fact that this was now the second time the hyena beastman had caught him eavesdropping - even if the first instance hadn’t been pointed out by him, but by…

(“How about a wolf who stands and eavesdrops on people’s conversations?”)

Well. Anyway.

Jack stayed still where he was - hopefully it was just some...really bad joke? - but eventually Yuuto let out a rather large sigh.

"Just come out Jack,” he said. “We both knew you’d be coming around at some point.”

Jack awkwardly came out of hiding, unable to look either of them in the eye. “How did you know?”

“It’s not like you were that sneaky,” Ruggie said nonchalantly, looking at him with one eye open as he shrugged. “I knew you were following me the moment I left the dorm.”

Jack winced. Sure, he wasn’t naturally sneaky, but was he really so obvious? Though, he couldn’t really dwell on that. Might as well get his questions out since he had the chance.

“I guess…I was just wondering why you kept sneaking out every night, and what you were even doing while you were out,” Jack said awkwardly, a grimace on his face.

He admittedly wasn’t expecting to see Ruggie’s face manage to both flush and pale at the same time, his eyes going wide. His voice cracked the slightest bit as he croaked out, “Wait, you noticed?”

Now it was Jack’s turn for his eyes to go wide. “You thought I didn’t?”

“No!” Ruggie’s eyes were wide as he spoke. “Why would I think you would? You’re always talking about going to sleep at 9 like some kind of uptight model student!”

Jack’s eye twitched. “First of all, what does my sleep schedule have to do with that?! Second of all, of course I’m going to notice! My hearing’s stronger than you think!”

“I only ever left after you should’ve been asleep! Unless you’re a stupidly light sleeper, there’s no way I would’ve waken you up!” Ruggie exclaimed, before a thought seemed to occur to him. “Wait a second…were you just not asleep?!”

“T-That’s besides the point!” Jack could feel his face flush at the accusation, desperately trying to fight it down. “So what if I wasn’t asleep?! The point is that I could hear you pretty much stomping around the dorm if not leaving every night! And besides! If you didn’t know I was listening, how’d you know I’d be coming around tonight anyway?!”

“Because both me and Yuuto kept catching you staring at us during the day!” Ruggie fired back, his expression hovering somewhere between mortified and indignation. “We ain’t dumb, you would’ve started nosing around sooner or later!”

“So what, I can’t be curious?! Last time I checked, it was actually a good thing I started looking into things last time, or else who knows how much worse things could’ve been!”

Ruggie recoiled, and for a split second Jack wondered if he’d gone too far. Then Ruggie’s eyes hardened - faintly, Jack noted how Ruggie almost looked like an almost entirely different person. It was rare for Ruggie to even be seen without some kind of smile on his face; and here he was now, staring Jack down with a glare that could probably kill him if it had the power to.

“Maybe if you hadn’t decided to butt your head in, it all would’ve worked out! If you didn’t decide to play “Mr. High ‘n Mighty Hero”, maybe the plan would’ve worked and Leona wouldn’t have overblotted!” Ruggie practically snarled out.

A white hot fury rushed through Jack’s veins. Ex-fucking-cuse me?

“As if such a hare-brained scheme would’ve worked even if I didn’t!” he retorted, a growl low in his chest. “Underhanded bullshit like that never works in the end, even if someone like you apparently can’t understand that!”

“Someone like me, huh?” There was a growl in Ruggie’s words, something that made Jack tense even more. “Well, at least someone like me knows to stop while I’m ahead, unlike a certain stupid wolf who’d barrel right along in the name of his so-called “principles”!”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jack could feel his fists shaking at his sides, his teeth bared as he returned the growl in full. “It means that I actually have standards for what bullshit I’d tolerate - unlike you, who apparently doesn’t whose boots he has to lick to get on top!”

Ruggie bristled, before an ugly sneer appeared on his face. “Says the one claiming he’s such a lone wolf, when in reality he’s just a sad little puppy dog waiting for his owner to play fetch with him.”

“What did you say?”

“What, were you too stupid to understand? Well then let me repeat it for you-”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Yuuto finally spoke up. Both Jack and Ruggie froze at the firm, almost disappointed tone in his voice. “You’re both getting a little too heated there.”

Truth be told, Jack kind of forgot that Yuuto had been standing there. But lo and behold, there he was, plating what looked to be a second plate of thick, fluffy-looking pancakes.

“I can tell that you’re both hungry, so just go ahead and start eating,” Yuuto said as he spooned some of the pear compote he had made over both servings of pancakes. Then he turned back to the stove, presumably to make himself a plate.

…Well, if he said so. Jack avoided looking at Ruggie as he grabbed one of the plates (he had the distinct feeling Ruggie was doing the same thing) and one of the forks that’d been laid out earlier before starting to eat. He was pleasantly surprised by how good the pancakes were, though that was probably because of the compote Yuuto had spooned over the top. Jack couldn’t help but wonder if it was just a coincidence that Yuuto happened to make this tonight, or if Yuuto had managed to plan it this way.

Either way…he had to admit. Yuuto was pretty good at cooking. As he ate, the previous anger that had flooded his body during his…argument with Ruggie slowly faded away. Instead, a sense of embarrassment began to overtake him instead. Did he seriously just blow up because Ruggie pointed out how early he usually slept? How pathetic was that?

(He knew that getting less sleep than usual could make you more irritable, but holy shit was that an understatement. Though there was a chance this was also caused by hunger which…honestly explained why it escalated as quickly as it did.)

Regardless, god Jack could feel the embarrassment. His ears lay flat against his head as he tried to ignore how his face burned. He was more thankful than he’d like to admit that Yuuto pointedly chose not to point it out, despite clearly noticing.

….Aaagh, he had to apologize, didn’t he? Even if Ruggie had said some pretty shitty stuff back, it didn’t sit right with him to just pretend it never happened. You gotta take responsibility for your own actions, right? No pretending it just didn’t happen; it just wouldn’t be right.

(He couldn’t help but wonder what Leona his dorm leader would do. If he’d eventually acknowledge it all, or if he’d continue acting like all was normal.)

Jack took another bite out of his pancakes. Sure, he wanted to apologize, but…what the hell did he even say? He talked all big about taking responsibility, but he couldn’t even figure out how to properly apologize for saying dumb shit and getting all riled up instead of just staying calm.

…What the fuck was he supposed to say.

Eventually, the silence got too much to deal with. He had to say something - and not end up with an undeserved blow up, this time. He cleared his throat, braced himself, and-

“Hey-”

“So-”

He stopped. So did Ruggie. He stole a quick glance at Ruggie, only to immediately look away the moment he realized Ruggie was looking back. He could already tell Ruggie had done the exact same thing.

There were another few seconds of silence. Jack tried to speak again, only for Ruggie to do the same, and both feel silent once more. Jack could feel the embarrassment burning his entire face as he stared instead at his almost-finished plate of pancakes. There was a tapping sound of a fork against ceramic, and he could tell that it was coming from Ruggie. The awkward feeling was so thick in the air that Jack could almost choke on it.

…Somehow, he had the sense that Yuuto was amused watching this all play. Bastard.

“...You first,” Jack eventually managed to get out, before Ruggie could. “Just. I’ll wait.”

By the Great Seven did he feel awkward.

“Right. Uh.” Ruggie cleared his throat. “I’m, uh. I’m sorry. For what I said.”

Nevermind. Now he felt awkward.

“Yeah, uh. Noted.” Jack wanted to scream the moment he spoke. Noted?? Really??? “Same. Sorry, I mean.”

If his face was burning before, it was practically boiling now. There was a grimace on his face, wanting to just scream into his hands about what the fuck why couldn’t he just apologize like a normal person.

“Yeah. I…Didn’t really mean to say all that, y’know?” Ruggie said, his tone all stilted and clearly awkward. “I…wasn’t really thinking.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t either.” Jack said, grimacing all the while. “I guess I was really tired or something. Or hungry. I don’t know.”

“Somehow, I get the feeling it was both,” Yuuto said. “Am I right in assuming you haven’t been sleeping too well either?”

“Either?” Jack’s eyes widened. “Wait, both of you?”

Ruggie didn’t say anything, but Yuuto just nodded. “And thus why we keep meeting up here. I get to cook more than I ever could at Ramshackle, Ruggie gets some snacks, and occasionally we manage to talk about all the shit that’s happened.”

“You didn’t have to add that last part, Yuuto.” Ruggie sighed. “But yeah, we’ve been meeting up here. Kinda surprised it took this long for anyone else to come up here, even if it was you.”

“What’s that supposed to-” Jack started, before sighing. “Actually, never mind.”

“You’re welcome to join us. You know, if you ever need somewhere to talk or just want a snack.” Yuuto looked at him, something knowing in his eyes that made Jack want to look away.

Jack thought about it. It was a tempting offer. And Yuuto did seem to be a pretty good cook, just from what he’d had tonight.

And…maybe it’d be nice. To talk to someone about it. As much as he wished he could’ve just moved on from it already, distantly, he knew that wasn’t how it worked. So maybe this would help, even a little.

“Sure.” Jack shrugged, before bristling a little bit. “Though just to be clear, It’s only because I’m curious about what else Yuuto can make. I’m not worried or anything.”

….By the Great Seven, why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Yuuto let out a little huff of laughter at that, though, so it seemed like he could tell Jack only meant that last part half-heartedly at best.

Ruggie just snickered, an oddly soft smile on his face. “Shishishi~! Yeah, let’s go with that.”

#twisted wonderland #Jack Howl #Ruggie Bucchi #twst fanfic #yuusona #Yuuto #chapter 2 spoilers #just in case #twst jack #twst ruggie #fanfiction #twst imagines #i am. sorry for the amount of cringe this probably brought upon you #trust me i was cringing writing them apologizing to each other #THIS was the fic I said I wanted a soft moment with only for them to just start YELLING

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chandelier-s-notebook · 3 years ago

Text

Hey look it’s chap 2! They won’t all come out today I promise.

(Also the other characters tagged appear later in this chapter after the :readmore: this isn’t cross tagged for publicity purposes)

Let me know if you wanna get tagged when I post new chapters in “These Streets Are Made For Walking”. @sleepysnails.

Ao3 Link

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

After school, Dream, George, and Sapnap tossed their bags into Techno’s trunk. Technically, he and Dream did have PowerPoint projects to complete, but it was a solo project and he already finished it at lunch.

Snagging the shotgun seat, Sapnap cheered, “To the mall!”

Techno grimaced. At least Sapnap was excited.

Actually, there was one good thing that came from them: friendship. Techno had met Dream at one of these mall fights while they went to different middle schools, then they ended up at the same high school and started to drag Dream’s other friends to them. Techno didn’t mind George and Sapnap, they were just more Dream’s friends than his.

Techno drove them out of the city, and they cruised down the highway for twenty minutes before pulling off to the exit towards the abandoned mall.

“I’ve never understood why this shit happens right after school,” George said.

Dream answered him, “It’s because the cops think this stuff happens at night. They don’t think to look for this stuff during the day.”

“Plus, there’s a lot more of the other stuff going on, so they’re busy.”

“Why do you know that, Sapnap?”

“Reasons.”

Techno rolled his eyes at the trio, and pulled the first aid kit and his backpack out of the trunk. “I’m gonna stay in the car today.” He handed the box to George. “Math homework due tomorrow,” he explained.

“Ah man. That’s too bad,” Dream said, stretching out his arms. “More practice for me.”

“Maybe you’ll even beat me next time,” Techno joked.

Dream wheezed, and Sapnap had to push him away towards the building.

Techno got back in his car, cranked the radio, and blasted the AC, shutting the windows tight. Throwing the bag into the seat next to him, Techno pulled out his binder, and opened it to a fresh piece of graph paper. Study time lasted all of forty minutes before the sirens rang out.

“Snitch,” he muttered to himself. He slumped down in his seat, and pulled out his phone. He debated who to text before deciding that George was least likely to be busy at any given moment.

Techno Got snitched Cops in lot

George Fuck Dream says leave Drop our stuff at Bad’s Drop Tubbo with Punz

Techno Roger

A squad of four cars descended on the parking lot. Most of the officers stormed the mall, but three stayed behind. Two began making their rounds around the parking lot, but--of course--the other was left behind to secure the entrance. It was standard procedure, so Techno wasn’t very surprised to see this happening.

Techno made the decision to continue doing his homework rather than try to get away. He tossed his phone on the passenger seat and turned the radio off.

He was calm. He was cool. He was doing his math homework. He was rolling down the window when prompted by a tap on the glass.

“Captain Craft,” the officer stated.

“Pleasure,” Techno responded.

“License and registration.”

Techno grabbed his wallet from his backpack and gave Captain Craft his license. He leaned over to the glove box to grab his car’s registration. “Afternoon Sir,” he muttered, handing over his paperwork.

“Techno Blade? Unique name.”

Techno snorted at the officer’s attempt at small talk. “Was born with it, I'm afraid.”

“That’s cool.” He handed Techno back his paperwork. “What are you doing here?”

Techno gestured to the paper in his lap. “Homework. Got a calculus test next week.”

“Smart kid.” Captain Craft was writing things down in his notebook. “Do you know why the police were called to this location?”

“No Sir.”

“What brings you here?”

“A quiet space to work, the foster home gets really loud. Normally this place is empty.”

“Normally it is,” Captain Craft agreed. “So you don’t know anything about a potential drug deal?”

The surprise on Techno’s face was genuine. Yeah this was an illegal ring, but drug deals? Really? “No Sir. I’m just doing my homework.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” Techno said, not playing the officer’s game.

Captain Craft leaned back to look at the backseat.

Techno had never been more thankful that Dream, Sapnap, and George liked throwing their stuff in the trunk for more leg room in the backseat.

Captain Craft patted the car. “Well. I feel comfortable letting you go free kid. Clearly you have nothing to do with this.”

“No Sir.”

“Techno Blade was it?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Do you have a number we could potentially call if need be?”

Now, Techno would have loved to give the officer his home number--giving the police a direct line of contact with his cell didn’t sound good--but that was a horrible idea. One of the other kids would pick up the phone, and they’d talk. Or the Foster Bitch would pick up, and she’d just cuss out the poor person who called. “Yeah. Let me get you my cell number.”

Captain Craft scribed the number down in his notebook. He flipped the page and ripped off the next page. “Doctor’s note to get you out of the parking lot.”

Techno snorted as he grabbed the paper. “Thanks.”

Techno shifted the car into reserve and pulled out of his parking spot. He drove towards the checkpoint and didn’t roll up the window until the officer standing guard approved his departure.

Techno arrived at Sapnap and Bad’s house. He pulled into the parking spot in the apartment’s garage that Bad paid for, so Sapnap’s friends could leave their cars when they came over. He grunted in annoyance at the weight of the three backpacks; there also wasn’t a convenient way to carry three backpacks. He rode the elevator up to the first floor and buzzed Bad’s apartments.

“Who’s there?” Bad’s voice crackles through the intercom.

“Techno, I’m here for delivery and pickup.”

Bad laughed.. “Hi Techno, they’re in the middle of something so it’ll be a little while.” The buzzer sounds and Techno steps into the room, taking the elevator to Bad’s floor, which was unreasonably high. How was Sapnap supposed to climb through the window late at night at this height?

Although Techno was required to have someone buzz him in, he conveniently had his own key for the door, and could use that. Techno couldn’t be bothered to remember which room was Sapnap’s, but he knew where the guest room was, so he tossed all their stuff in there.

“Hi Bad. Have any snacks?” Techno asked, entering the kitchen. Mario Kart sounds floated over from the living room. “It’s time to go home!” Techno called out to the kids.

“Why?” Tommy yelled back.

“Because. Also Tubbo, Dream said that I’m dropping you off with Purpled at Punz’s place.”

“Oh.” Techno could hear the way Tubbo’s face fell. “He got into something again?”

Techno took the plate of sandwiches from Bad and brought them out to the boys. He gave Tubbo a tight smile. “Apparently, but he’ll be fine.”

Once the boys finished their game--Ranboo won--they all bid Bad adieu and head back for Techno’s car. The boys and their backpacks file in. Tommy sat up front; Tubbo situated himself on the middle hump, and Purpled and Ranboo arranged their legs accordingly.

He let the boys karaoke on the way to Punz’s place. They were very loud, but it helps that he didn’t have to worry about where he was going, as he is far more familiar with these streets than he would have liked to be.

Techno pulls into the driveway. “Get out.”

“Thanks for the drive Blade!” Tubbo said, following Purpled out of the backseat.

“Good luck!” Ranboo yelled after them, stretching his legs into the newfound space he had at his disposal.

“Stay safe!” Tommy shouted, only half joking. “Let’s get out of here.”

Techno pulled out of the area once Tubbo and Purpled had made it into the house. He then drove them out of the slums to the richer areas of the city where Ranboo lived. He parked the car in Ranboo’s cul de sac.

“This is my stop,” Ranboo said lowly.

“This is your stop.” After a few minutes of silence Techno spoke again. “You gonna get out?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Ranboo opened the door. “Thanks for the ride!” He pushed it shut once outside and walked up the lawn to his manor.

Tommy waved goodbye to his friend then turned to look straight ahead. “Let’s go back now.”

“Are you still mad at me for hanging out with Dream?”

Tommy didn’t respond.

Techno pressed on the gas and brought the car back to the main road. “I’m allowed to have friends, kid. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Then stop. Stop defending yourself. You don’t need my approval.”

“When did you get older than me?”

“When you started hanging out with kids who get put in the newspaper for petty crimes!”

“I’ve been hanging out with Dream since long before you even got here.”

“And? People change. Little Dream isn't big Dream!”

“I know who my friends are,” Techno bit.

“I hope you do. Because Tubbo is having a sleepover with Purpled which means Dream isn’t home. And you were there. So what happened?”

All of Techno’s pent up energy left his body, and he fell into a steely expression. “Nothing.”

“Something happened! Why isn’t Dream home?”

Techno turned on the radio.

“Tell me bitch boy!”

“Do you want to eat tonight?” Techno shouted back at him, turning to face him directly now that they were stopped at a red light.

Tommy’s eyes were wide. He had one hand on his seat belt buckle and one on the door handle. He was as pressed away from Techno as he could get in the car. He was holding his breath and his body was tense. “Please,” he whimpered.

Techno tensed up as well. He had gone too far. He knew he had gone too far. That wasn’t cool playing on Tommy’s fears like that. “Tommy--”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll shut up. Please. I know it’s your stash. Please.”

“Tommy.” The light turned green. “We’ve been over this. My stash is your stash.”

Tommy mutely shook his head, refusing to reply.

Internally sighing, Techno tapped his finger on the side of the steering wheel, his brain working hard. He should have known not to say that with Tommy, but of course he had to mess up again.

The car behind them honked its horn loudly, jerking Techno out of his thoughts. He lifted his foot from the brake, and placed it down on the gas, accelerating forwards, and allowing the long line of traffic behind him to go.

Tommy still hadn't spoken, but was shaking slightly, and it wasn't because he was cold.

“My stash is your stash,” Techno reiterated, if only to fill the silence.

“No it’s not,” Tommy said in a small voice. “You keep saying it is, but it’s not.”

“Then steal from my stash to make your own stash. You’ve done that before.”

“Not from people I need to like me.”

Techno stopped looking at Tommy in hopes he would calm down slightly. “I do like you,” he reassured. “If I didn’t I wouldn’t be trying to convince you that we share a stash.”

Tommy fiddled with the radio stations and made a noncommittal sound of what Techno pretended was agreement.

Techno and Tommy spent the rest of the ride home in silence, Techno glancing at Tommy out of the corner of his eye the whole time.

When they arrived home, Techno put the car in park, and undid his seatbelt, but made no move to get out of the car. Twisting his neck, he looked Tommy in the eyes.

Techno knew what Tommy needed to hear, even if he hated having to need to say it. “You can eat tonight. Grab whatever you want from my stash.”

“Really?” Tommy asked more hopefully than Techno was comfortable with.

“Yeah.”

Tommy then bolted out of the car, as if to make sure he did the thing while he had permission before it was taken away abruptly.

Which Techno would never do. Techno was feeling like shit playing on Tommy’s insecurities to get him to shut up. That wasn’t cool and he knew that. Techno slowly pulled himself out of the car. He grabbed his backpack, and the one Tommy had left in his haste.

Walking slowly to the house, Techno gave Tommy some time to settle in before entering their shared space. Yes he generally wished that Tommy was quieter after 10pm, but tonight it would be for the wrong reasons.

At least Tommy didn’t seem to think Techno was about to hit him.

#Technoblade #Dreamwastaken #Sapnap #Georgenotfound #Badboyhalo #TommyInnit #Tubbo #Ranboo #Purpled #Philza #These Streets Are Made For Walking

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plumeriaheart · 5 years ago

Text

How to persuade your dummy [Mammon/Reader]

I would give Mammon my soul within seconds. Also that one devilgram story for his ssr card, the Mammon Way, made me wish it ended differently so here’s me fulfilling my own wish.

FANDOM: Obey Me!

RATING: more fluff, with a little bit of spice

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

„Ugh, why do I have to bother with some stupid homework assignment?! This is beneath the Great Mammon!”

His sudden outburst doesn’t phase you nor Satan – it’s his fourth one already. Although Satan already explained to him that he had to finish his course work – lest he wants to repeat the year – it simply doesn’t seem to get through his head. And you can tell that he’s growing more exasperated by the second. If you look closely, you can see his smile twitch as he watches Mammon flipping through the pages of his exercise books.

“Satan, would you like me to handle this?” Not to mention that you’re just as much at a loss as he is; still, you would rather avoid him losing his cool. If everything else fails, you could simply command Mammon to do his work, right?

“Are you certain that you’ll be able to?” He seems hesitant, considering whether this is something he can leave in your hands. The concern on his face makes you wonder – does he think that little of you? After all, you were able to make most of the demon brothers enter a pact with you. You would have thought that you had proven yourself more than capable at this point.

“Of course I am. I have a pact with him, remember?” This seems to reassure him, and only a few seconds pass before he nods with a confident smile.

“Then I will leave this job to you. Do let me know about your success later tonight when you return to the House of Lamentation.” With those words, he bids you farewell. As soon as he’s out of eyesight, though, you hear Mammon getting up from his chair.

“Finally! Thought he wasn’t gonna leave at all!” You watch him as he stretches his arms above his head, a carefree grin on his face. Unless you act fast, you know he’s going to take the chance to disappear as quickly as he can.

“You know, I thought you looked pretty cute working on that assignment...” Voice as nonchalant as possible, you sit down across from him and notice his cheeks burning up right away. He turns his face away from you quickly as if to try and hide the fact that you made him blush.

“Ya’ think…? I-I mean, ‘course I did! I, the Great Mammon, always look pretty cute! And, uhm, attractive, too!” He’s right, technically, you do think he always looks rather attractive, but maybe you could use this to make him continue his work?

“There’s something really attractive about somebody that’s so focused on their work in front of them...” You mumble, letting your eyes drop down to his opened books. “I really like seeing you that focused, Mammon.”

You’ve never seen him sit down as fast as he did right now, frantically searching for the pencil he used to pretend to work while Satan was present.

“L-like this?” His voice is low and he doesn’t even look up at you, eyes glued to the page in front of him. Whether he’s actually trying to read or if he’s just pretending to, you can’t tell. Though you can see that he’s still blushing.

“Yeah, just like that – it’s really difficult to hold back the urge to kiss you right now.” His grip around the pencil tightens and the lead breaks from the pressure. With a gulp, he dares to look up at you for a mere second only to see you smiling at him. As if you didn’t just make his heart stop!

“Pfft, that’s… That’s just like a human, being too weak to… to ignore my devilish charms,” he mumbles, eyes flitting from your lips to the curve of your neck. Suddenly, he’s hyper-aware of how enticing you look to him; the thought of how soft your lips must feel and how delicate your skin looks. Mammon gulps, finding it even more difficult to focus on the work in front of him thanks to you.

You wonder if your plan backfired, if you only made it more difficult for him to finish his work, but then… Another idea sparks inside your head. Anything is worth a shot to make him work.

“I think my self-control is strong enough to hold myself back right now. But if you were to finish that first book… I don’t know if I’d be able to hold myself back then.” It’s unclear whether Mammon can tell that you’re sweet-talking him into doing his work or not, but the important thing is that it’s working. He’s pulled the book closer to himself, underlining passages within the text and scribbling down stuff in his notebook. And unlike before, they’re not just wiggly lines.

You grin to yourself, watching him work away – too focused to even look up for a single second. Now that you have to wait for him to finish the first book, you take out your D.D.D. and start a new group chat with the other brothers. You take a quick snapshot of Mammon and send it to them with the caption ‘I found a way to make him work!’

Immediate responses flood the group chat, all five brothers wondering just how you managed to convince him. You’re not willing to tell them you practically seduced him into doing it, but… Asmodeus can probably figure it out himself.

‘Did you promise to send him exclusive voice lines from Ruri-chan if he finishes his work? ROFLMAO If yes, you have to send them to me. Plz do it. Mammon’s such a normie he wouldn’t know how to appreciate Ruri-chan’s precious voice.’

‘Did you offer to pay him? With all due respect, you didn’t seem like the type of person to possess enough wealth to do so.’

‘I bet she promised to make dinner for him. Maybe even his favourite meal? I bet he couldn’t say no to that.’

You hold back a giggle to those texts, but then you feel as if somebody’s staring at you. Looking up from your D.D.D., you see Mammon with a confident smile – he’s at the end of the first book, and his eyes are watching you expectantly.

That was way faster than you imagined!

“You’re done already? I’m impressed, Mammon,” you say. His only response is a grin, a quick nod and another slight blush on his cheeks. He’s really waiting for that kiss you mentioned, isn’t he?

As you get up from your seat and move to sit next to him, he suddenly averts his gaze.

“This was nothing for somebody as clever as me!” His voice is not as cocky as his words, and he gulps audibly as you sit down next to him. Your arms touch, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him. You’re more than willing to hold up your end of the bargain, but he refuses to turn his head to look at you. As if you weren’t able to see how red his face was from this angle!

That’s not enough to stop you, though. You lean closer to him, placing your lips just below his ear. He jumps in his seat, clearly not having expected you to be so bold.

“I’m really proud of you, Mammon. You’ve done really well, you know? And the next two books are going to be a cakewalk for you,” you whisper. He shivers at the feeling of your hot breath caressing his skin. It’s entertaining to see how much such a simple action can affect him; it brings you more joy than you’d like to admit. Another soft kiss is placed, this time, a bit closer to his cheek.

“You’re… You’re right! This is nothing for me!” His hands are shaking ever so slightly as he reaches for the next book, aware of just how close you are to him. His skin still tingles where your soft lips touched. You decide to rest your head on his shoulder, watching him as he continues to work. The proximity makes his heart beat faster, nervous about how close you are, but you see him begin to work once more. Since he’s doing his best at focusing on the words in front of him, Mammon doesn’t notice the pink tinge on your cheeks.

It takes him slightly longer than before, which can be attributed to how close you were, but eventually, he finishes the second book as well. He doesn’t say anything, but… He does glance at you. He’s not going to say it, but he wants to hear you say how well he did.

You lift your head from his shoulder, humming a little.

“Can you look at me?” You ask, smiling brightly as he does. Raising your hand, you gently stroke his cheek with your fingertips; eyes never wavering from his. “I’m really glad to see you give it your all.”

His eyes widen as if in shock, but then he nods. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again – he can’t find any words to say to you right now. He’s way too overwhelmed: he’s nervous because you’re so close, anticipating the kiss you talked about before, and also exhausted from doing actual work.

You gently make him tilt his head so that your foreheads touch, and now you feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. At this rate, he’s likely to break a world record in blushing, you think to yourself.

“Do you think you need a little break before you continue?” It’s the least he deserves. “I can get us something to eat, and then you’ll finish the last book, okay?” He nods, but his face drops a little as you get up to order. If he had a say in it, he wouldn’t let you go at all. He finds an irritating amount of satisfaction in having you this close to him, being gentler than anybody had ever been with him before. He’s not the Avatar of Greed for nothing.

When you return, his face lights up with a smile. He may have begun to miss you already, but he also realised that all the thinking had made him hungry.

“I got you some coffee and a backstabbing sandwich – your favourite, right?”

He might just tear up at how kind you are to him.

Roughly two hours later, all three of the books are done. The final one took a toll on Mammon, being way harder than the previous ones, but somehow he pulled through. Maybe it was the way you smiled at him when he let out a frustrated sigh, or maybe it was the way you rested your hand on his when he needed to take a little breather.

You’re way too patient, Mammon thinks to himself, enduring his antics and lack of intelligence. He’s so used to the way his brothers talk down to him that he can’t believe anybody would take the time out of their day to stay with him, to encourage him – and yet that’s exactly what you did. No wonder you manage to make his heart flutter with joy.

“Should we go home?” You ask him as you get up to stretch your legs.

“Yeah… I’m beat. But...” He looks away from you, embarrassed to be asking for this. You did promise him a kiss, and you had yet to kiss him on the lips! How can he ask for it, without actually asking for it? He’s way too stubborn to openly admit to wanting you to kiss him, even if he knows that you can tell. You’ve got a certain way to read him, and Mammon’s not sure if he likes it or not.

“I haven’t forgotten about your reward.” Those words make him choke on his spit, cheeks crimson once more. A reward, huh? It has a nice ring to it, he has to admit. And to hell with it, he does deserve one, doesn’t he?

Gathering the books and his notes, both of you get ready to leave. When you take his hand and entwine your fingers with his, you catch him by surprise. You half expect him to pull his hand away, but he merely mutters unintelligibly as you two leave.

You tell Mammon to rest in his room as you bring the books to Satan. He accepts them, pleasantly surprised to see the results. There’s a fair share of mistakes, but not enough for the committee to fail Mammon. With a spring in your step, you return to Mammon’s room to share the good news with him.

A knock on his door to signal you’re back, Mammon jumps up from his bed and opens the door. You barely get a word out before he pulls you in, slams the door shut and wraps his arms around your waist. With a smile, you gently pat his head and hear him grumble into the crook of your neck.

“You’ve done so well today, Mammon,” you tell him. He raises his head to look up at you, and you wonder if you’re seeing things – do his eyes seem a little watery? The way he looks at you is unlike anything you’ve seen before, a mixture of gratefulness and pleas. It tugs at your heart to see him like this.

When you take his face into your hands, you can feel the heat rising to his cheeks once more. But this time, you’re not going to pull away like the times before. You get up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips, and when they touch, it’s as if he’s revitalised.

He kisses you back with fervour, with such longing that you wonder how long he’s been holding back. His lips crash into yours as if he was starving for you, eager to taste more and more of you. Now he’s not the only one that’s blushing, you’re taken by surprise at how forceful his kiss is. He rests his hands on your hips, trying to pull you closer and closer until you can feel his heartbeat against your chest.

You barely manage to break away to gasp for air before his lips crash into yours once more, hungry, begging to have a taste of you. One of his hands travels up your back, resting between your shoulder blades. The heat coming from his touch is enough to consume you, to set your skin aflame.

When you allow his tongue to slip past your lips, a groan reverberates from him; strong enough to send a shiver up your spine. You’ve given him a taste of yourself now, and it fuels him. The more he touches of you, the longer you kiss, the greedier he becomes – you’re unlike anything else he’s ever had, and suddenly he finds himself breathless, as well.

“P-Please,” he finds himself whimpering, and he’s not sure what he’s asking for himself. There’s an ache in his chest, and his heart is pounding painfully.

“Mammon?” You whisper, unsure what to do next – you can still feel his hot breath on your lips, almost touching. He refuses to open his eyes, not looking at you – but you ask yourself if you can see a tear glistening in the corner of his eye.

You run your fingers through his hair, and then you smile.

“Hey, can you look at me, Mammon?” For a couple of seconds, he refuses to do so, but you don’t mind. You give him as much time as he needs before he finally opens his eyes, looking at you with such a pleading expression that almost makes you wonder if he’s in pain. He remains quiet, gaze burned into yours.

“I like the way you kiss me. Can you do it again?”

You don’t need to ask twice.

A/N: I may get over myself and write a sorta sequel to this that’s more mature than this, given that I... gave it such an open ending tbh. we’ll see!! thanks for reading <3

#obey me!#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x reader #obey me fluff #obey me fic #this boy has me WHIPPED!!!#i LOVE him #and i want him to be HAPPY

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saltywhovian · 5 years ago

Text

seven minutes in heaven is hard when there’s four people in the closet

Marinette loved Alya. She was her best friend, her confidant, her rock. But Marinette was going to strangle Alya. She was going to murder Alya, ressurect her, and then murder her again. If she made it out of this closet without being suffocated to death. But hey, being suffocated during Seven Minutes in Heaven is such a good way to die.

Earlier

“Marinette! I’m having a little sleepover tonight, nothing fancy, just a few friends, some chips, some bad movies, will you pleaaaase come??”

Marinette glances over at Alya, who is practically down on her knees begging Marinette to come to the sleepover. “Alya, I-” Marinette makes eye contact with Alya, who has become the literal definition of puppy eyes. Marinette sighs, and grabs her phone. “You know what, I deserve a night off. I’ve been working myself too hard. Let me ask my parents.”

After getting a positive answer from her parents, Marinette gives Alya a thumbs up. Alya squeals, and throws her arms around Marinette. “Girl, you won’t regret it!”

“Okay weirdo,” Marinette chuckles. “Let me finish this homework.”

As Alya walks away, she grins to herself.

She goes up to Nino and Adrien, and after planting a big kiss on Nino’s cheek, she turns to the boys. “Hey, I’m having a sleepover, do you two want to come?”

Nino nods, and Adrien furrows his brow. “I’ll have to clear it up with Nathalie and my father,”

Alya interrupts him with a grin. “Uh-uh my friend. I already got approval from Nathalie. You can check with her right now.

Adrien, who is even more confused, pulls out his phone, dialing Nathalie.

“Hey, um, Alya invited me to a sleepover, and-” he stammers.

“Yes, I am aware of Ms. Cesaire’s get together. You already have your father and I’s consent to attend. But of course, it is your choice on whether or not you go.” Nathalie responds.

“No, no, I want to go! Th- Thank you Nathalie.”

“Have fun Adrien.”

Adrien turns to Alya, amazement in his eyes. “How? Just- how??”

Alya walks away dramatically, calling over her shoulder, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

After inviting Alix and Rose, Alya goes to Juleka. “Hey girl, I’m having a little sleepover tonight, do you and your brother want to come?”

Juleka smiles, and shoots a text to Luka. “He would love to come.”

Alya smiles slowly. And that makes four.

You see, Alya was smart. And although everyone except for Adrien knew about Marinette’s “little” crush, Alya knew there was more. Because whenever Kagami was around Adrien, Marinette would get jealous whenever they touched each other. Not just if Kagami initiated the touching, but if Adrien did too. And whenever Marinette was with Luka, they were gentle, they were the same in a quiet kind of way.

So Alya dug a little more. She grilled Adrien enough to know that he’s head over heels for Marinette, just in denial. She then accomplished the harder task, figuring out Kagami’s feelings. It took nearly a month of careful plotting, and finally, finally got Kagami to admit that she wanted to take Marinette into her arms, and.. Alya stopped Kagami there.

And then she dug more. Kagami and Adrien weren’t hard to figure out. And the moments that Luka and Adrien shared were so sweet, Alya thought she might get diabetes. As for Kagami, and Luka? There was definitely something there. It just needed a little push.

Alya did such a good job figuring this all out, she was considering a career as a detective. So with all this information, what was she going to do?

Well she was going to scheme. But she couldn’t do this by herself. So she enlisted Nino, and then after some careful thought, she pulled Juleka into the planning.

After another two weeks, they had a plan. Operation Seven Minutes was a go.

Honestly, the hardest part was convincing Kagami and Adriens parents to let their children attend a co-ed sleepover. Alya went to Nathalie first. She explained that Kagami would be there, and that they would be doing meditation, to relax and tame their emotions due to stress of everyday life. She said that it would be beneficial and would allow Adrien to focus more on his duties. Nathalie gave her a smile, and told her that Adrien had her permission to attend the sleepover. For Kagami, it involved simply stating that Adrien Agreste would be in attendance, and Gabriel Agreste approved of the affair. Ms. Tsurugi approved immediately.

So she invited the four, and a few others to create less awkwardness in the room, so she could trick the idiots into a false sense of security.

Technically the main objective of Operation Seven Minutes was to get the four idiots together, but the true objective was for Alya to live all her shipping fantasies and be as amused as she can possibly be.

She sends a text to Operation Seven Minutes.

Red -The birds are in the bush

Purple - What?

Green - Everyone’s coming.

Purple - Why couldn’t Alya just say that?

Red - Code names, Purple!

Purple - They’re kinda dumb

Green - She’s got a point, babe

Red - Whatever, whatever. Time for Phase 3.

Evening

Marinette rings the doorbell at Alya’s place, face slightly flushed at her late arrival. Alya opens the door, and pulls Marinette in. “There you are, girl! I got worried for a second that you weren’t coming!”

“I’m so sorry Alya, there was an emergency at the bakery…” Marinette trails off as she takes in the people in the room. Nino and Alix are engaged in fervent conversation that’s no doubt involving some extreme dare, Juleka and Rose cuddling, and…

Adrien, Luka and Kagami all sitting together looking mildly awkward. Scratch that, really awkward.

Marinette slowly turns to Alya, her face twitching. Before the situation escalates, Alya snatches Marinette’s bag and yeets it into a corner.

“Alright, gather round, gather round!” Alya beckons. “Now that Marinette’s here, we’re going to play Uno!”

Marinette balks at the circle, unsure on where to sit. Kagami tugs at Marinette's sleeve, indicating a spot in between her and Luka. “Sit next to me Marinette.”

Marinette smiles, which the team notices, thanks to a nudge in the ribs from Alya. “O-Okay Kagami.”

Luka makes a small wave at Marinette as she settles in. “I’m glad you’re here, Marinette.”

Adrien leans over from Luka’s other side. “Me too!”

Kagami gently scoots in closer to Marinette, leaning into the conversation. “I as well Marinette. I always seem to enjoy myself when you’re around.”

Marinette is practically speechless, already furiously flushing. Nino, Alya and Juleka fist bump, whispering “Pound it!”

Uno goes better than Alya could ever imagine. Sure Alix is another +4 away from murdering someone, but that was a foreseen circumstance. No, Alya is very pleased because the four have been slowly snuggling closer and closer to each other. And because of how competitive Marinette gets, she is no longer stuttering around anyone.

Kagami looks at Marinette, her eyes gleaming in regret. “Marinette, I’m so sorry, I have no other card..” She places the +4 card down. “I hope you can find it in your heart to ever forgive me.”

Marinette meets Kagami’s eyes, her own filled with understanding. “It’s okay Kagami, I know you would never willingly betray me. Besides, you’ve given me the perfect opportunity.”

Luka looks at Marinette in alarm, clutching his three card deck to his chest. “Marinette, you couldn’t. You- you wouldn’t!”

Marinette shrugs, looking nonchalant, but a smirk is threatening to break through her casual expression. “I’m sorry Luka, but you are a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“Marinette, it doesn’t have to be like this!”

“Oh but it does.” She slams the +4 card down on top of Kagami's card. “Uno.”

Luka stares at the card, disbelief taking his body. Adrien rubs his back, mourning the defeat.

Marinette tenderly places a hand on Luka’s face. “I’m sorry it had to be like this. Maybe in another lifetime it would work. But it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Luka gasps at the touch, much to Juleka’s delight. But before he can respond, Alix leaps to her feet, eyes raging, pillow in hand. “I’ve had enough! This means war!” Alix then swings the pillow into Ninos face, knocking him to the floor.

The room erupts into chaos. Everyone scrambles to grab a pillow, and attack the foes around them. Adrien immediately jumps in front of Marinette, acting as a human shield. “Marinette stay back!” he yells. “I’ll protect you!”

On the ground, Marinette looks up at Adrien, who is practically glowing in the fluorescent lighting, framed by feathers floating around them. The moment is ruined by Adrien being shunted to the couch by a pillow to the ribs. Marinette rushes to his side and clutches his hand. “Adrien! Are you okay?”

He looks up to her, and hands her his pillow. Marinette nods, determination in her eyes. “I’ll avenge you.”

She rushes into battle, the power of the past Ladybugs flowing through her veins. Kagami and Luka, who are currently fighting back to back, can only watch in awe as Marinette, crowned with righteous fury, slams her pillow in Ninos stomach, causing him to fall into Alya.

“Oh girl I’ll get you for that!” she cries, hoisting her pillow into the air.

In a blink, Kagami rushes to block Alya. While engaged in a furious standoff with Alya, she cries “Luka, now!”

Alya looks back to see Luka leaping into the air with his pillow above his head.

From the couch, Adrien yells “Finish her Luka!”

And finish her he does. With one final blow, Alya is struck to the ground. The battle ends with Luka and Kagami flanking Marinette, while their friends lay fallen around them.

Rose looks up, and starts laughing. “I think that’s a good segway to pajamas, huh?”

Marinette fidgets with her pajamas, displeased with her selection. She had picked them based on the thought that it was just going to Alya, Rose and Alix, so she’s wearing a silky tank top and short combo that she made herself. The pink tank top sometimes rides up to show a little stomach, and the shorts show way too much leg than she is comfortable letting Luka, Adrien and Kagami see. “Alya,” Marinette hisses under her breath. “I cannot go out in this!”

Alya tugs a stubborn Marinette into the other room. “Girl, relax. Once you see what everyone else is wearing, you’ll calm down.”

Marinette doesn’t exactly calm down, per say. She doesn’t really notice what Alix and Nino are wearing, but sees that Rose and Juleka are matching. But she stops right in her tracks when she sees her crushes.

Kagami, who is watching Luka and Adrien squabble, is wearing the prettiest red nightgown Marinette has ever seen. It’s big and billowy, falls right above her knees, and the puffy sleeves give Kagami this innocent yet beautiful look. Kagami rushes to Marinette’s side, clutching her arm. Marinette is trying, and failing to ignore how Kagami's fingers feel against her bare skin.

“They’re fighting because they’re matching,” Kagami whispers into Marinette’s ear.

Marinette finally looks at Adrien and Luka, and almost faints. Luka and Adrien are both wearing Ladybug onesies, both with hoods and feet, and are in a heated argument over the matching.

“I’m just saying that you should change because I’m the biggest Ladybug fan.” Adrien argues. “I’m literally Chat Noir- I mean in the animated movie.”

“Any true fan knows that the movie sucked,” Luka counters. “Just because you are ‘Chat Noir’,” he mocks with air quotes, “Doesn’t entitle you to the title of the biggest Ladybug fan.”

Marinette whispers back to Kagami, “I should probably intervene before this cat fight gets ugly.” Shouldering her way inbetween the onesie clad boys, she gives both of them a stern glare, silencing them. “Boys, you’re both pretty. Besides, I think Chloe wins that title. She literally has an expensive Ladybug cosplay, wig and all.”

The boys nod in agreement, mostly distracted by Marinette’s choice in pajamas. Luka hates to prove the “boys are distracted by girls shoulders” stereotype, but he cannot stop staring. There’s something about the dip from her next to the shoulder that just makes him…

“Alright, losers, let’s play some truth and dare!” Alix’s challenge breaks the spell. The boys and Marinette sit down where they are, and Kagami joins them at Adrien’s side. “Alright, Rose, truth or dare?”

Rose blinks at the question, weighing the options. “Truth!”

“If you could kiss anyone in this room, who would you kiss?”

Without any hesitation, Rose blurts out “Juleka!”

Juleka, who is settled in at her side, slowly turns to Rose, her face the same shade as Rose’s pjs. “Um, really?”

Rose, who is also bright pink, nods, and pulls Juleka into the hall. The rest of the room sits in silence until the two come back a few minutes later.

Juleka breaks the silence. “We’re dating now.”

The room, once again erupts into chaos. Luka rushes to his sister, crying about how proud he is, Alix to Rose saying that it’s all thanks to her. In the chaos, someone bumps into Marinette, causing her to tumble right smack into Kagami. Thanks to some cruel twist of misfortune, Marinette’s hands… are dangerously close to where they shouldn’t be. Marinette flings herself back, stammering out apologies, but Kagami silences her with a hand and a smile.

“Marinette, I know you would never purposely do anything to me,” Kagami assures Marinette. “You are pure and true. That’s why..”

But Kagami never finishes her sentence. With a roar, Alya silences the room. “Okay, we can all agree that we all just witnessed something beautiful. Now let’s get back to Truth or Dare.” She peers around the room, eyes landing on Adrien. “Adrien, truth or dare?”

“Uh… dare?” the blonde answers.

“I dare you to sit in Luka’s lap until dared to move.”

Adrien is practically red. “I, uh, erm…”

Alix whoops, “You’ve got to do, blondie. A dare’s a dare!”

So Adrien makes his way over to Luka. “Are you okay with this, Luka?” Adrien asks, desperate to not be placed in this situation.

Luka, who most definitely wants to be placed in this situation, shrugs, trying to hide his excitement. “Yeah.” he pats his lap, wiggling his eyebrows at Adrien. “Sit down, Monsieur.”

Adrien slowly drops himself into Luka’s lap, gently moving until he’s comfortable.

Alya sneakily takes a picture.

After a few more truths and dares, it’s Juleka’s turn to ask. “Marinette, truth or dare?”

After a few seconds of thinking, Marinette answers “Dare.”

“I dare you…” Juleka makes a huge show out of thinking up a dare, but the one she has is one memorized from Alya’s meticulous planning. “To give Luka a kiss on the nose.”

Adrien looks at the two, who are starting to look like Ladybug’s costume, and asks “Do I have to move?”

Juleka shakes her head. “Stay where you are.”

Marinette sputters, but makes her way over to Luka and Adrien. Leaning past Adrien, who melts at the feeling of Marinette breathing by his ear, Marinette locks eyes with Luka. “I’m going to kiss you now,” she whispers. He nods, and Marinette brushes her lips onto the tip of his nose. Luka cannot control the sigh that escapes him. Marinette pulls back and returns to Kagami’s side, who straightens up, and looks to Adrien.

“Adrien, truth or dare?” Kagami asks him.

“Uh, dare I guess?” Adrien answers, intimidated by her intensity.

“I dare you to sit in my lap.”

You can hear a pin drop.

The team was not expecting the operation to go this well.

“You heard her right, Adrien.” Rose chimes. “Go sit in her lap!”

Luka, who is very reluctant to give up Adrien, watches as he goes, and settles into his second lap of the evening. Kagami leans forward into his back, and whispers into his ear, “I missed you.”

Adrien thinks he is going to die.

This time, Nino takes the picture.

After another round that results in Alix reliquenshing her hat to a very delighted Rose, Alya takes the reins. “Luka, Kagami, I dare you two swap pajamas. One of you can change in my bathroom, the other in my bedroom.”

Lukan and Kagami make eye contact, an unspoken message coursing through the room. Kagami taps Adrien’s lower back. “I’ll be back.”

He stands up, sitting with a very delighted Marinette, allowing Kagami and Luka to go to Alya’s room. Once in the room, Kagami closes the door and turns to Luka. Luka is the first one to break the silence. “What’s your game at?”

“What game?” Kagami drawls, not breaking the stand off.

“Well, I just found it odd that you dared Adrien to sit in your lap while Marinette was right there, and you’ve been glued to her side all evening.”

“I do not hesitate, Luka. I know what I want, and I get it.”

Luka raises his hands in a sign of peace. “Hey, I’m not trying to start a fight or anything. I’m just trying to figure out if we’re on the same page.”

“What page, Luka?”

“Do I really have to spell it out?”

Kagami’s silence is all the answer he gets.

“Fine, fine. Listen, I’m in love with Adrien and Marinette, and I’m almost positive that you feel the same.”

“You are correct about almost everything.”

“Almost?”

“You failed to account that I might be in love with you.”

“Oh.”

Kagami raises an eyebrow. “Oh? I confess to you and all you have to say is oh??”

Luka backtracks, trying to explain himself, but Kagami interrupts. “It’s okay. I’m not going to be selfish.”

“No, no no! You’ve got me all wrong, Kagami!” Luka slides a hand through his hair. “You’re like, part of my harmony. The four of us, we’re like a four part harmony. I… need all of the chords to sound good.”

Kagami gasps, a blush dusting across her cheeks. “Oh!”

Luka chuckles, and Kagami shoots him a glare. “The irony is not lost on me. However, the main issue at hand here is the fact that we’re being set up.”

“Definitely. But, I’m not mad about it..”

Kagami raises an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Well, think about it. Do you think we would’ve ever figured it out on our own? I lo-love all of you, and you’re probably the smartest of us all, but we’re kinda dumb. Marinette will figure out if given many many hints, and Adrien…”

Luka falters, not wishing to insult Adrien, but continues. “When it comes to crushes, Adrien’s about as smart as a rock. Not like a cool rock. Just a rock.”

Kagami snorts at the comparison, and turns to Luka, smirking. “I say we play along, and enjoy ourselves. Besides, whatever’s going on,” She laces her fingers into Luka’s, who is smiling, and squeezes her hand back. “It already led me to you.”

“Let’s finally complete the dare, huh?”

Kagami nods, and they split to change, fingers touching until the very last second.

When Kagami and Luka leave, the sitting arrangements have slightly changed. Alya and Nino are cutely snuggled up. Alix is sprawled on top of their laps, smirking at Adrien and Marinette. Alya sees the pair, and motions to be quiet. Adrien and Marinette are holding hands, red as Adrien’s onesie. Their feet are brushed up against each other, and Marinette is very pointedly not looking at Adrien.

Marinette would later swear she felt Adrien purring.

Kagami leans over to Alya, whispering, “Where are Juleka and Rose?”

Alya whispers back, “Alix dared them to play Seven MInutes in Heaven, which should be up right….” A timer beeps off, and Rose and Juleka stumble out of the coat closet, mildly disoriented but both foolishly smiling.

Luka and Kagami make eye contact, an unspoken thought passing among them. Marinette finally notices Kagami and Luka and squeaks when she sees them. She’s mostly excited about how cute Kagami looks in the ridiculously oversized Ladybug onesie, but her and Adrien quickly notice the nightgown on Luka falls smack in the middle of his thighs. Both Adrien and Marinette fight an urge to touch his legs.

Alya wiggles her eyebrows, and nudges Nino, who grabs Juleka’s attention. They all know it’s time for the final phase of Operation Seven Minutes. It’s perfect that Alix already made a segway to having people playing it, really, this is going way too well. “Hey Marinette, you haven’t had a turn in a while. Truth or dare?”

Marinette chuckles, somehow miraculously still holding Adrien’s hand, decides “I’m feeling a dare.”

Time to go for the kill. “I dare you to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with someone of your choice.”

Marinette looked ready to murder Alya. Twitching hands, and a very fake smile. Nino jumps in, as according to plan, in case Marinette couldn’t pick. “C’mon Alya, don’t make her pick! She’ll take so long, that we’ll all be 80. I’ll pick.”

“NO!” Marinette practically screeches. “No. No. Alya dared me to pick, and so I’ll pick.” She doesn’t pick.

After a minute that felt like an hour, Juleka speaks up. “I have an idea. How about Marinette goes in the closet, and whoever wants to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with her will follow. Anyone opposed?”

When no one speaks, Marinette nods, and shuffles off to the closet. As she sits in there, her mind begins to race. Why is no one coming? It’s because no one likes you, you should’ve just picked Alya and hugged her for 7 minutes..

While Marinette worries outside, her friends sit in silence. Suddenly, Kagami stands up and rushes to the closet. Luka leaps up, hot on her tail. After a few seconds, Adrien jumps up, and scrambles after the two, muttering “Crap, crap, crap!”

Alya, Nino and Juleka just stare in amusement, and Rose and Alix...are going to need a moment.

Before Marinette can spiral any more, Kagami slams the door open, then attempts to lean on the door nonchalantly. “Uh, hey-” she’s promptly interrupted by Luka's body slamming into her, causing both of them to fall in with Marinette. She squeaks as they both fall in, and if it wasn’t awkward already, Adrien also trips and stumbles in. Alya makes no time in quickly shutting the door, and the fours eyes widen hearing the lock click. “Seven minutes starting now, have fun!”

Marinette is the first to speak up. “So, um, all of us are in here. In here, in this closet, for s-seven m-m-minutes in heaven. Hm, hm, so I uh, hm..”

Marinette is so cute that the three might die.

Kagami smiles. “Marinette, may I?” Marinette cues her with a nod. “I believe that Marinette is pointing out the fact that we all wanted to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with her, a party game for the sole purpose of making out. I know that I would love to make out with Marinette.”

Luka nods in agreement. “Same here.”

Marinette is a squeaky, blushy mess. They all turn to Adrien.

He is blushing just as bad, if not worse than Marinette. “Y-yeah…”

Marinette almost faints. “I, um, would like to uh, make, make, um up, no out, with all of you too.”

Kagami, who would later claim that she already knew this and just wanted the others to know, lets out a faint “Yes!”

“Erm.. Continue.”

Marinette nods. “I, um, also, notice, that you guys, all kinda, you know, um, like each, each, other, and I um, like, want to sugg- suggest,”

Luka tries to rub her back to encourage her, but because of how small the closet is, he ends up being squished a little too close to Marinette, with his face mere inches from Adrien’s.

Adrien is going to give Alya the entire Gabriel fortune. He’s going to give her the entire company.

“I-” she gulps. “I would like to suggest us, being in like, a poly group. Only, only if everyone's okay with it, and I know we would have to work out all the kinks-”

Marinette is quickly silenced by a swift kiss from Kagami. While the two girls kiss, Luka and Adrien are both trying to decide to get jealous, or kiss each other. Kagami takes her sweet time pulling away, and whispers, “I would love to date you. All of you. If-if you’ll have me.”

Surprisingly, Adrien speaks up. “It would be a dream to date all of you. I, have to admit, I loved Marinette first, deep down, and then Luka and Kagami came into my life, and I’ve, I’ve never been the same.”

Everyone looks to Luka, who lets out a hearty chuckle. “Of course I want to date you guys! All of you are my harmony. My beautiful, beautiful harmony.”

Marinette looks up at all of them, tears brimming in her eyes. “I love you guys!”

“We love you too Marinette!”

“You know,” Luka mentions, wiggling his eyebrows at Adrien. “Alya shoved us in here to play Seven Minutes, and those seven minutes are ticking by…”

Outside, Alix glances over to Alya. “Did you set the timer?”

“Oh no!” Alya gasps, most definitely insincere. She makes a huge show out of picking up her phone, and pretending to be surprised that the timer isn’t set. “I’ll just set it to seven minutes now. I just hope they don’t mind!”

Nino rolls his eyes, snaking an arm around his girlfriend. “I’m almost positive they won’t babe.”

After the actual seven minutes, Alya finally unlocks and opens the door. “Times up,” she calls, “I hope you guys weren’t too..” All four of them topple out of the closet, tangled and flustered. “Uncomfortable.” she finishes with a smirk.

Marinette smiles, stands up, dusts herself up, and pulls up her girlfriend and boyfriends, kissing each of their cheeks. “We managed.”

Later that night

“M’lady,” Chat Noir calls, settling next to her on the Eiffel Tower. “It’s 1 am, are you okay?”

“No, yeah! I’m actually great!” she assures him. “I called you here to tell you something. So, you know how I kept rejecting you?”

“Yeah, about that-”

“Wait. Just, let me finish, kitty. I’m dating the boy now, and I’m also dating two other people that I really love, and I thought was a rival for me to the boy, and the other boy the boy thought was his rival and I’m telling you this because you’re my friend and my partner..”

And in that moment, a fog is lifted from his mind. He places his hand on Ladybug’s shoulder, and whispers, “Marinette?”

“How-” and the fog is lifted from her as well. “Adrien?”

He pulls, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. They pull each other into a deep hug, and sob into the night.

“Of course it’s you,” Adrien cries into Marinette’s shoulder. “It’s always been you.”

They share a tear soaked kiss, weighted down by each other, by their love for each other, by their love for the two still with Alya.

Marinette stands up, and pulls Adrien to his feet. “Let’s get back before Luka and Kagami notice we’re gone.”

They’ve already noticed, but they will let the duo tell them on their own time. For now, they just let the two snuggle in close, and hold them tight. After all, that’s what love is. Trust.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltywhovian

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odd-i-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Scheduling Disaster

AO3

Peter had a pretty solid schedule, one that he did not like to mess up, please and thank you. Monday to Friday he had school, so from about 7:30 to 3, he was in class. Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays he had Acadec practice after school until about 4 or 4:30. So, after school or AcaDec practice, Peter was free to patrol, which he did until he was expected home around 6 for dinner. Then, after dinner, he did homework, until about 9 or 10, when he’d patrol again. And on school nights his curfew was strictly at 12:30 AM. It used to be 12, but after missing it so many times he got Mr. Stark to convince Aunt May to extend it, just a little bit.

The only day in the school week that was different was Friday, which was when he’d patrol until about 5 or 6, before going to Mr. Stark’s Tower. Usually, they would have some lab time, eat dinner, and maybe watch a movie. Sometimes they would be in the lab all night, and sometimes they’d skip the lab all together and just watch a movie. Either way, Friday nights were dedicated as “Mr. Stark time.” He usually slept over in the Tower on those nights, mainly because Mr. Stark didn’t like the thought of Peter swinging home in the early hours of the morning, and Happy had woken up at 4 AM just to drive all across New York City one too many times. Either way, it meant that Saturdays were typically spent sleeping in, eating breakfast with Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark, spending some more time with the man, usually in the lab, and doing homework. Occasionally he’d hang out with Ned and, or, MJ on Saturdays too. Then, starting around 8 or 9 PM, he’d start his patrol. Saturdays were the only night where his curfew was mostly non-existent, as long as he texted Mr. Stark hourly updates. Technically it was 3 AM, and Peter was home in bed most Saturdays before that, but sometimes he stayed out later. What could he say? The city needed him. Sunday was dedicated for homework and spending time with Aunt May, and then patrolling at night with his usual curfew.

All this to say, Peter liked his schedule. Everything had a place and was timed out specifically so that he would have time for everything. Being a teenage superhero was hard, after all. Most people got that little chart that had “Social Life — Good Grades — Hobbies” on it and were told to pick two. Peter’s chart looked more like “Social Life — Good Grades — Extracurriculars — Mr. Stark/Lab Time — Spidermanning — Family” and yet was still told to only pick two. But two wasn’t enough for Peter, would never be enough, so he found a way to do it all.

But he wasn’t complaining, no not at all. His schedule worked, he got to do everything he needed. Sure, it left him a little tired, and sure, sometimes he’d after to eat meals while doing homework, or while patrolling, but it was worth it. There had been no problems with his schedule so far, even though Ned had once called it a little bit “too much”, and Mr. Stark had commented on it before, but nothing more than an “I’m worried you’re overworking yourself, Pete,” so he was fine.

After all, he’d always been like this, it wasn’t anything concerning. It’s just that, well, after the Vulture incident, and getting closer to Mr. Stark, and being in Junior year now, he was busier. And sure, maybe he had become more strict about his scheduling after The Incident, but it was just because he had more on his plate. That’s all. He just needed to make sure nothing, and no one, messed up his schedule. And no one would because everyone and their dog knew that Peter’s schedule was important.

That is, until he walked into the common room in the tower Friday evening.

A brunette was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at some game on his phone. He’d obviously not heard Peter walk into the room, or if he had, he was just ignoring him.

“Uh… hi?” Peter said, his voice shaking just a little.

The brunette looked up immediately, a brief emotion of something showing on his face before he just settled on a disgruntled look. “Who are you?” it came out as a sneer and Peter bristled. He said it as if Peter didn’t belong here, but it was Friday, it was his day to be here. His day to spend time with Mr. Stark. He opened his mouth to say something, to give a retort, or at least to give his name, but Mr. Stark chose that exact moment to walk in.

“Oh, shit, Pete. I forgot to text you,” he looked genuinely surprised that Peter was there and, ya. Wow. That hurt a bit.

“This is Harley, he’s going to be staying here for a couple of weeks. There were some family problems and—”

“Tony, who’s this?” the brunette—Harley—asked, shooting a quick glare to Mr. Stark. It was clear that he didn’t want Peter to know why he was here. And for the most part, Peter understood. After all, he was a stranger, and strangers shouldn’t know the happenings of your family. And yet, it was just another stab to the heart. This boy, who could have only been maybe a year older than Peter himself, seemed to be close to Mr. Stark, close enough that he called him “Tony”, and close enough that Mr. Stark even forgot about Peter.

“This is Peter, he’s—”

“His intern,” Peter interrupted, giving Tony a look that clearly said “no Spider-Man”, or at least, he hoped it said that.

Harley gives him a weird look, and Peter gets the immediate feeling that he’s not wanted there. He shifts uncomfortably and turns his attention back to Mr. Stark. For now, he didn’t have to worry about Harley.

“Uhm, so, lab night tonight is…?” Peter trails off.

“Uh, well, I have to get Harley here settled in, but once that’s done I don’t see why we can’t work in the lab once that's done,” Mr. Stark scratched his beard, peering down at the two teens.

Peter smiled, that was all he needed. He didn’t mind waiting a little bit before having lab-time. He could always work on homework in the meantime.

“Speaking of that, though, Pete. You can’t stay over tonight,” Peter’s head shot up, and Mr. Stark must have noticed the faint look of sadness that crossed his face, “Well you can, it’s just that. Well, I sort of told Harley he could sleep in your room tonight.”

This time Peter looked at Harley, and then back to Mr. Stark. He hoped his emotions weren’t showing too much, but he’d never been good at hiding them. Aunt May always said he wore his heart on his sleeve. But the idea that Mr. Stark not only forgot about his and Peter’s lab night, but he also gave Peter’s room to some… some stranger? It hurt. It felt like he was being replaced.

“You’d think that with what, over a hundred floors and probably more than twice as many rooms the old man would have a spare bedroom somewhere, but apparently not,” Harley grumbled, stretching out on the couch where he was sitting.

He was so comfortable here, arguably more comfortable than Peter was. Peter always held at least a little bit of respect for Mr. Stark and his home, no matter how much they bantered, but it seemed like Harley just knew Mr. Stark more. Peter pressed his lips together, he hated it.

“I don’t have guests often,” Mr. Stark shrugged, “What can I say.”

A tense silence fell over the three. Harley was looking at his phone, seemingly refusing to look at Peter, and Mr. Stark was eyeing both teens with a careful eye. Peter, on the other hand, stood in place, with his backpack hanging off one shoulder, and shifted awkwardly a couple of times. He didn’t know what to do, but it seemed like Harley didn’t want him here, and Mr. Stark was barely acknowledging him.

“Anyways, what do you want for dinner, kid?” Mr. Stark turned, heading towards a seat.

“I guess—”

“Pizza would be good, Tony.” Harley’s voice was loud. It demanded attention, unlike Peter’s which seemed to be getting quieter and quieter as the day went on. It was so easy when he was Spider-Man, but when he was Peter Parker it was so much harder to force people to see him, to listen to him. But he’d never felt like that with Mr. Stark before. Mr. Stark had always listened to Peter. Even before the Vulture Incident, Mr. Stark showed interest, even though he didn’t directly speak to Peter. Months later he found out that the man had listened to all of his phone messages, and had kept a close eye on Spider-Man to make sure he was safe. After the incident though, the man got closer to Peter and listened to him in person.

But now, with Harley here, he felt like it was hard to be heard again.

And, on top of that, Harley answered to Peter’s nickname. Mr. Stark always called Peter kid, and only Peter. And yet, Harley answered to the name too? It was petty and childish, but it made an anger boil in Peter’s stomach. He caught Harley’s eye again, and the other boy just rolled his eyes before sending a brief glare. Mr. Stark didn’t even notice the looks Harley was giving Peter, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge them. Peter sighed, he could tell when he wasn’t wanted somewhere.

“Uhm, Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, just as the man was telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to place a pizza order.

“Ya, kid?”

“I actually forgot that I uh, I’ve got a big essay due Monday that I need to work on. MJ said she’d help me, but I gotta call her tonight about it… so I’m uh. I’m gonna go? And skip the lab for this week,” he could feel himself starting to shake a little bit. He just wanted to go home, maybe go on another quick patrol, and then watch a movie with Aunt May.

Mr. Stark gave him a weird look, and for a moment Peter was wondering if the man could read his mind. He got more and more nervous the longer the silence went on, but he spared a look over to Harley, and the other boy was finally giving the barest of smiles. Apparently leaving was a good decision, then.

“Ya,” Mr. Stark finally spoke, “Sure kid. Just give me a text when you get home, ok?”

“‘Kay. Bye Mr. Stark,” he turned around heading towards the elevator, “By Harley.”

Peter swung home. It was the best way to get his mind off of things. He wasn’t necessarily looking to help people out, but he stopped by a few people who needed his help. There was nothing serious, but it made him feel better. Just something as simple as helping someone find their way around, or helping a young lady get to a subway station, anything like that, helped Peter feel a little lighter. The anger he felt at the Tower slowly seeped away, and soon he felt good enough to go home.

He entered through his bedroom window, changing into pyjamas, and sauntered into the kitchen of the apartment.

“Peter?” Aunt May’s voice rang with concern, “I wasn’t expecting you home tonight. Did something happen?”

She set down the knife she was holding and walked over to Peter, placing her hands on his cheeks as she checked him over for any injuries. Peter just shook his head and wrapped his arms around her.

“No, I just missed you,” he lied. He didn’t know how to tell Aunt May that Tony replaced him with some kid from Tennessee.

Aunt May hummed, brushing her hands through his hair. Peter could tell she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press any further, so he appreciated that at least. They stayed like that for a few moments, Peter enjoying the warmth of the hug until—

“Aunt May? Whatever you had on the stove is on fire,” Peter mumbled.

“What!” And just like that, the hug was over. His aunt ran over to the stove, turning it off as quick as she could and fanning out the flames. “Why didn’t your… your… Peter Tingle—”

“Spidey Sense”

“Say anything? Can’t you tell when something is about to happen,” her voice cracked as she tried to get the flames under control.

“It doesn’t like… always pick up on everything, May. It just does, sometimes?” Peter shrugged, “I don’t really know how it works.”

“Well, figure it out would you? So we can avoid any more kitchen fires, at least.”

“I think we can do that if you just stop trying to cook,” Peter laughed.

“Hardy har, laugh it off, Pete. I guess we’re ordering in for the night, does Thai sound good?” There was soft clanging as she placed the pan in the sink, turning to give Peter a look that only Aunt May could.

“Ya,” Peter smiled, “That sounds good.”

He and Aunt May watched old rom coms all Friday night, and Peter chose to sleep in on Saturday, something he didn’t do very often. His plan for today was to get some homework done and then Ned and he were supposed to build the Lego Death Star before Peter went on patrol. That was all put to a stop when at 9 AM Peter rolled out of bed to the sound of his phone ringing.

“W’ss’p’” he mumbled, still half asleep.

“Are you asleep right now? At—oh, it’s 9 in the morning. But still, that’s pretty late for a boy genius like yourself,” Mr. Stark’s voice echoed.

“I’s Saturd’y M’ss’r St’rk,” Peter yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, trying to get his mind to clear up, “I get to sleep in.”

“Mhm, well, get that lazy Spider butt up,” Peter could practically hear Mr. Stark rolling his eyes, “We missed out on our lab night last night, so how do you feel about coming over today? You can even stay over tonight if you’d like, I got Harley set up in his own room now.”

Peter immediately perked up. Clearly, this meant that Mr. Stark still wanted him around, especially if he was reaching out to him first. It meant he’d have to cancel on Ned though, and he probably wouldn’t start his patrol until later, but… well, it was worth it.

“Ya, that sounds good Mr. Stark. I can be there at like, noon?” It would give him a couple of hours to eat breakfast, get started on his homework, and text Ned to cancel their plans. His friend would be disappointed, he was sure, but he’d understand. Peter would tell him they could do it next weekend. Plus, Mr. Stark didn’t mention anything about Harley, so Peter was hoping it would just be his mentor and him. It would give him an opportunity to work on some Spider-Man updates that he had thought of, plus he needed to fix some minor bugs.

It was nothing serious, but a couple of nights ago he had swung face-first into a wall after getting distracted, and it had hurt the coms in Peter’s suit. Mr. Stark knew about it and they were supposed to fix it last night until Harley happened, so Peter was sure it would get fixed tonight.

“Sound good, kid. Just head into the lab when you get here, I’ll have some lunch waiting for you.”

“See you then, Mr. Stark!”

Peter did a small flip off of his bed, excitement making him restless. He’d been so upset and worried that he was being replaced by Harley, but clearly, he wasn’t! Mr. Stark obviously still wanted him around. He popped his head out of his bedroom door, shouting out “Aunt May! I’m going over to the Tower in a couple of hours!”

Aunt May turned from her place on the couch, looking up at Peter with a raised eyebrow. “It’s Saturday,” she said as if that was an explanation for her confusion. And, in her defense, it was. Peter was only ever at the Tower on Saturdays if he woke up there in the first place, he rarely went there if he had slept at home.

“Ya, but with our lab night getting canceled last night Mr. Stark wanted to do it today, so I’ll probably be there all day, or at least until I go out on patrol,” Peter shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal. But Aunt May looked at him with an all-knowing look and Peter was sure she knew more than she was letting on. “Well, as long as you get your homework finished it's fine,” was all she said.

Peter nodded, quickly going back to his desk and getting to work. There wasn’t much to do and he was sure he could finish most of it, at least, before he had to get to Mr. Stark’s.

Peter may have overestimated his ability to get his work done in time by just a bit. He had been planning on taking the subway to the Tower but found himself in need of swinging, and even when he swung all the way there he was fifteen minutes late. Not the worst, but he felt like it was different today. Different because now Mr. Stark had another “kid” he could work with.

He changed quickly in an alley outside the Tower and entered through the backdoor as usual. There was a happy skip to Peter's step as he got into Mr. Stark’s personal elevator, with his bag slung on one shoulder. Despite the fact that this messed up his schedule, Peter was just glad he was actually going to spend some time with Mr. Stark. His only hope was that Harley wouldn't be there.

“Good afternoon Mr. Parker,” F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke, “Would you like me to bring you up to Boss’ lab?”

“Yes please, F.R.I.”

The elevator was small and fast, and despite the fact that Mr. Stark’s lab was on the 90-something-th floor it only took a matter of seconds for Peter to arrive. He walked through the halls with ease, his muscle memory bringing him straight to the lab. There was a slight tingle from his Spidey Sense, but Peter paid it no mind. It was probably because he had been so upset when he was in the Tower last night. Plus, his Spidey Sense was just like… anxiety, but for superheroes. He put his hand against the sensor and the doors opened for him.

“Hey Mr. Star—” he froze.

There was a lanky, tall body sitting at his spot. At his desk.

“Hey,” the other boy mumbled, not lifting his head from where he was staring at something on the— no, on Peter’s —desk. “The old man’s gonna be back in a few, he said he had something to do.”

“He’s not that old,” Peter mumbled, feeling the sudden need to stick up for his mentor. He knew or at least had a feeling that Harley was just teasing Mr. Stark. It seemed like it was their dynamic, but still. “F.R.I. could you let Mr. Stark know that I’m here, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker,” she replied.

“You’re uh,” Peter shifted uncomfortably, “You’re at my desk.” There was a bit to his tone, one that he hadn’t done on purpose, but he didn’t correct himself.

“What? Are you gonna go cry about it to mommy?” Harley finally lifted his head from whatever was so important on the desk, but only to roll his eyes, “I don’t see your name written on it anywhere.”

That’s because it doesn’t need to be, Peter wanted to say, because only he and Mr. Stark went into this lab.

But instead, he just shrugged, “It’s where I work,” was all he could say. The anger was starting to boil in his stomach again, and Peter could feel the tinge of… something. Jealousy? But that wasn’t like Peter. He never got jealous. Uncle Ben taught him better than that.

And yet, he couldn’t think of another word for the emotion he was feeling towards Harley. Harley was replacing him. He took Peter’s “Mr. Stark Time” away from him, he disrupted Peter’s carefully planned out schedule, he took Peter’s nickname, took his spot in the lab, and took his room. Mr. Stark was replacing Peter with Harley, so ya. He was jealous. Sue him.

“God, are you such a goody-two-shoes that you have to come into work on the weekend? Can’t you just like, go home? Tony has me here right now, so he doesn’t need any more help,” Harley gives a glare before going back to whatever he was working on.

Peter bristled, opening his mouth to retort back. But he didn’t know what to say. That he and Mr. Stark were close? Obviously not close enough for Mr. Stark to remember when they were meeting, or be there on time, or mention that there would be some other kid interrupting their time together.

And speaking of the devil, right at that moment Mr. Stark walked in. There was a tense silence in the air, and Mr. Stark looked back and forth between the two teens. Just like Aunt May, Peter had a feeling that Mr. Stark knew more than he was letting onto. But then, the man just sighed, took off his iconic sunglasses, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“You two catching up with each other?”

“Uh, ya, I guess,” Peter shrugged, hovering awkwardly over his desk. He had things in it, important things. Spider-Man things. Things he didn’t want some stranger looking through. He shot Mr. Stark a look, trying to convey exactly that with just his face. He furrowed his eyebrows, sharply pointing his head to the desk, and luckily, Mr. Stark nodded.

“Hey, uh, kid,” And fuck. There was that name again. This time Peter knew it wasn’t directed at him, Mr. Stark was looking directly at Harley, “That’s Pete’s desk, and he’s kind of got a system, so why don’t you move to the end of it, gives you both room to work there, ok? We’ll get another desk set up soon.”

Harley raised his head, huffing slightly, but he moved over wordlessly. Or, almost wordlessly. If Peter didn’t have super hearing he wouldn’t have heard it, and Mr. Stark definitely didn’t hear it. “Neurotic much, eh?” Harley mumbled under his breath.

Peter tensed. Harley was treating him no better than how Flash did, and it was causing him to be on edge. His Spidey Sense wouldn’t stop tingling. It wasn’t telling him that there was an immediate danger, but it was like it knew that Harley didn’t like him.

Nonetheless, Peter sat down at his spot, making sure to sit at the opposite end of the long table, just so that Harley wouldn’t be able to see what he was working on. He guessed that he and Mr. Stark would have to wait to repair the coms in his suit. They couldn’t exactly pull it up in front of Harley. Because of Secret Identities and all that. But that was ok. Peter could work on updating his web formula.

He’d had a few ideas on how to improve it. One, he’d really like to make a set of quick-dissolving webs, because 2 hours was sometimes a bit much. He also wanted to see if he could develop his webs to be able to cover injuries. Right now he was able to do it on himself, but he knew that it had chemicals in it that would be unsafe for broken skin. The only reason he used it on himself was because of his healing factor; it wouldn’t be able to do any lasting damage. But it could probably cause light chemical burns on regular people.

He brought out some scraps on paper, as well as a sheet that had his original web formula on it, and got to work. It was silent for the most part, Peter usually preferred to work in silence, only chatting with Mr. Stark on and off. But today Peter didn’t say a word. Even Harley was quiet for the first little while. But then, he kept speaking up, asking Mr. Stark to come over and look over his work, or making little quips. Peter kept his head down, feeling more like a stranger in the lab than he ever had before. It was hard, he didn’t always know what the other two were talking about, and the one time he had tried to join the conversation he had just gotten a small glare from Harley.

So, Peter just sighed and kept his head down and focused on his work. He was making good progress on the equations so he’d be able to test it out soon. He worked on his webbing so often that it was practically second nature at this point. Slowly the hours ticked by, and Peter found himself ready to test it out. The first one to test out was the quick dissolving webs because Peter felt like it was most important. He was really starting to get complaints from the police who kept finding criminals webbed up to the wall. Apparently, it was hard to get out of. Who knew.

“Mr. Stark, do you think you could come and check this out for a second?” Peter asked, ignoring the fact that the man was with Harley. Surely he could spare a couple of minutes.

“Just a minute Pete,” the man hummed, scratching his beard as he peered down at Harley’s work.

So Peter waited, and waited, and waited. In reality, he probably only waited about 15 minutes, but it felt like ages as he watched his mentor interact with Harley. Finally, Peter stood up and grabbed a couple of vials and chemicals from the shelf, sighed a bit as he did. And no, he was not pouting at all, and if F.R.I.D.A.Y said anything different he was going to reboot her.

Eventually, Mr. Stark comes over, just as Peter is setting everything down at his desk. He gives Peter a look that distinctly says “really?” and Peter just shrugs. It wasn’t like Harley paid him enough attention to really get that he was working on Spider-Man stuff.

“Looks good, Pete, go ahead and move to testing it out,” the man ruffles his head and Peter shoots him a grateful smile.

There were so many emotions going on in Peter’s head, and he really didn’t know what to think, but he was happy to get some attention from Mr. Stark. Maybe he really was just jealous of Harley. He wasn’t used to sharing Mr. Stark’s attention, and it was a lot to get used to. And yet, even with that knowledge, Peter couldn’t make the burning anger go away.

And, Peter couldn’t say he felt good about his current emotions, but when Harley’s head shot up when Mr. Stark praised him he couldn’t help but feel a little smug.

He was here in the lab for a reason, after all. Mr. Stark would never work with an idiot weekly.

Well, debatable, because Peter knew he was kind of an idiot sometimes, but that was more street smarts. He knew that when it came to science he was nowhere near being an idiot.

Just as the silence was coming over the three of them again, Mr. Stark’s phone rang.

“Rhodey? Ya, no I’m free, what's up?” Mr. Stark called out, probably louder than he needed to, “Wait one sec.”

“Hey, you two, I’m just going to head to the common room for a second, you’re good here by yourselves?” He gave them both a suspicious glare, but both boys nodded, “Ok good, don’t die, have fun, all that jazz. I’ll be back in a minute.”

And then he left.

And Peter knew what the man was doing. He was never the most subtle person in the room. Or in the world, probably. But that was what made him Tony Stark, and it was one of the qualities Peter admired in Mr. Stark. He was always confident and sure about his decisions. Even if that decision was forcing two teenagers to spend some time together, despite the fact that they clearly didn’t like each other. Plus, it helped that he had super hearing, so he could hear Mr. Stark say, “Rhodey, I just don’t know what to do with them” as he walked away from the lab.

“God,” Harley bemoaned, getting up to walk closer to Peter, “You’re such a pest, you know that? Like you literally work here every week, but I can't even get a full day to hang out with Tony? You’ve always got to pop up in one way or another, fucking annoying.”

Peter forced his lips together, trying to hold in an outburst that was surely going to happen, and just shrugged. “It’s my work, I like it,” he said through clenched teeth, “And you’re the one who showed up during our workday, that’s not my fault.”

“Can’t you just like, leave him alone for fucks sake. He’s probably annoyed too. Like, just go home,” Harley sighed, and Peter’s Spidey Sense immediately perked up. Something was wrong.

He looked up at Harley just as he was pouring a vial of chemicals into his web mixture, peering at the other boy to see what was causing his Spidey Sense to go off. But the brunette was just standing there with his arms crossed, and— was that? Was that a pout? Weird.

But Peter didn’t get to think about it anymore, because before he knew it his body was moving without him thinking about it. He could feel the heat against his back as he grabbed Harley’s arm and shoved him down, blocking the other boy with his own body. There was a loud BOOM, and the room shook slightly, and for a moment Peter was sure it was going to collaps—

No, he thought, don’t think about that right now.

And it was over just as fast as it had happened. He felt some minor burns on his back and arms, but nothing feels too amiss, other than the adrenaline that was currently pumping through his body. So Peter took a chance, and stood up, quickly looking around the room and down at Harley, who was now sitting on the floor. The other boy looked fine, though there were hints of a mild burn on his right arm. But the lab, on the other hand… well it was a mess.

The web formula had clearly exploded, and there were sticky webs all over the room. The vial he had been mixing it in was broken, and there was a small fire over the table, which Dum-E quickly came to extinguish.

Peter just looked around with wide eyes, his hands shaking from the adrenaline, as Harley looked up at him with equally wide, and concerned eyes.

“Fuck—” Peter began to sigh, but he didn't get to finish the sentiment before the doors to the lab were swung open.

“What the hell happened in here?” Mr. Stark burst through the lab, sounding just as out of breath as Peter felt. His eyes held a fire in them, but he looked equally angry, concerned, and disheveled.

And Peter doesn’t remember a time he’s been this afraid to face Mr. Stark. Probably not since the Ferry incident. But he fucked up this time. He hadn’t been paying attention when he was grabbing chemicals, nor pouring them, and he caused an explosion. He was just happy it was minor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I got distracted,” Peter mumbled his head down as he refused to face his mentor.

“Distracted?” the man shouted, and Peter was almost certain that he was angry enough to breathe fire, “You know you can’t get distracted in the lab, and especially not when you’re handling chemicals Peter! You know better than that!”

“I know, I jus—”

“No, Pete. The adult is talking now, listen,” Mr. Stark put up a hand, and for the first time, Peter looked at the man’s face. He looked angry but also concerned. “If you were tired or hungry or something you should have let me know, I wouldn’t have made you come in today, but you cannot, be distracted. What if there had been a bigger explosion Peter? What if people got hurt? Were you not thinking at all?”

“I’m sorry,” Peter’s voice quivered.

And at that, Mr. Stark paused, took a breath, and ran a hand through his hair. He looked calmer, and Peter was sure he was going to walk over and tell Peter that he was sorry for yelling. But instead—

“Harley,” Mr. Stark spoke, and Peter’s shoulders deflated, “Go up to MedBay. I want to talk with Peter alone for a second.”

And for once, the brunette left the pair without saying anything. Apparently, the trick to get Harley to be quiet was to cause a minor explosion. Who knew.

Mr. Stark waited a few moments before turning back to Peter. It was clear he was still mad, but Peter didn’t think he was going to yell anymore.

“Peter, what were you doing? How could you get so distracted that you poured the wrong chemical? What if you had gotten hurt?”

“I heal fast, Mr. Stark,” And, ok ya. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say to the man who was clearly concerned about him. But it was true! The burns would be gone by tomorrow.

Mr. Stark just sighed and ran a hand down his face. He took a few deep breaths, and Peter instantly recognized it as a tactic for the man to hold in his anger.

“Fine then,” it clearly didn’t work well enough, as Mr. Stark snapped at Peter with such venom that the boy took a visible step back, “What if Harley got hurt? He doesn’t have any superpowers, Pete, he can’t heal like you can. Sure, you can’t get hurt, but he could have gotten really hurt. If it was worse, he could have died, Peter.”

And at that, Peter’s eyes welled up with tears. Mr. Stark was clearly concerned about Harley, and clearly mad at Peter. Did he not see that it was the other boy who put Peter so on edge, so tense, and that was why Peter made the mistake?

“I’m… Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean—”

“I know. But Peter, this can’t happen. You’re going to have to go home for the day, and we’ll see about next Friday. I haven’t decided if you get lab privileges or not.”

Tears began to fall, but Mr. Stark either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He was quick to turn on his heels and walk towards MedBay, where Harley was. Because of course. Peter was beginning to feel like a fool. It was obvious that Mr. Stark and Harley were close, and were “connected” as Harley had said earlier. And Peter? Well Mr. Stark only spoke to Peter in the first place because of Spider-Man, not because of Peter Parker. Sure, Mr. Stark clearly cared for him, and wanted him around, but not in the same way as Harley. Peter was never invited to stay at the Tower for more than a night, not like Harley, and Mr. Stark was clearly more concerned about Harley’s safety than Peter’s.

(That’s not quite right though, is it? Somewhere deep down Peter knew he was just getting worked up, and he was just overly anxious and jealous. He knew Mr. Stark cared for him just as much as always, and he knew that Mr. Stark liked both Peter and Spider-Man. But right now? Right now Peter was too upset to think rationally. Later, he might look back on it and realize that it was a mixture of being jealous, angry, and probably the pain that came with the burns.)

Peter walked to the elevator, his head hanging in shame, as tears spilled out of his eyes. It was just a stupid mistake, but Mr. Stark was so mad at him, and only cared about Harley being ok. He sniffed, rubbing his eyes as F.R.I took him down to the lobby. “Take care, Mr. Parker,” and Peter swore he could hear a hint of concern in the AI’s voice. He shot a small smile up to the ceiling but said nothing more before leaving.

He took a deep breath once outside, trying to get in as much fresh air as he could in New York City. He walked as quickly as he could, his mind already made up about what he was going to do. He had planned to patrol after lab night anyway, and sure he was a couple of hours early and hadn’t had dinner yet, but it was fine. He’d stop by a hot dog truck or something during the patrol.

So Peter ran into an alleyway, hopping as he kicked off his shoes and changed out of his civilian clothes. Going on patrol would be a good way to use his built-up adrenaline, anyway. He could use any lasting anger and jitteriness to help people. So once he was in his suit, and his bag was webbed up high on a while, Peter got to swinging.

It was still rather early in the night, only about 5 or 6 PM, but it was the end of November so it was already dark, but even so, he wasn’t expecting much. There was a young teen that was trying to rob a small grocer early into the patrol, but all it took was Spider-Man showing his face, giving a wave and a short “Hey kid, I’ll buy that for you,” for the kid to back off. Peter didn’t really have money to be wasting, but he figured the young kid needed it. Plus, it was just a sandwich that was a couple of dollars, it wouldn’t kill Peter to lose that amount of money.

Peter swung around for another hour, and nothing much happened. He stopped a group of bullies and walked the poor kid home, but other than that Peter just swung and kept an eye out. It was when Peter was sitting on the edge of a roof, peering down onto the streets and keeping a careful eye out for any trouble that he heard it;

“Hey! Fuck off!” and even though Peter had only known the guy for just over a day, he already knew his voice like the back of his hand.

It was hard to forget the voice of the guy who was replacing you.

(But he wasn’t, and Peter knew that. Or would know that, once he calmed down.)

And for a brief second, a second that Peter was not proud of, he hesitated. It wasn’t like he didn’t like Harley, sure, he wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan, but he didn’t deserve to be attacked. But, shit. Really? Really? The guy that's been at Peter’s throat all day, the guy that Peter was mad at, is getting attacked and now Peter has to go save him. Because of course, he does.

So Peter swings down, climbing down the wall straight above Harley. There was a guy with mangly blonde hair and a hand that was roughly holding Harley against a wall. When Peter looked closer he could see a gun in the guy’s other hand, which was being pushed right into Harley’s stomach.

“Listen, I literally, don’t have anything, man,” Harley said, and Peter could tell he was trying to stay brave, trying to put on a show, but he could hear the shake in his voice. And wow, Harley reminded Peter of Mr. Stark.

“Look at your fucking shoes, your jacket, I know money when I see one,” the man sneered, shoving his gun further into Harley’s stomach, “So pay u—”

“Hey man! Stealing isn’t nice!” Peter chose that moment to jump down, giving the man a kick to the shoulder to get him to back off Harley.

“Fuck off bug boy,” the man spat, trying to take a step closer to Harley again, but Peter stood directly between the two.

“I feel like purposefully calling me by the wrong name is just rude, I mean come on! I have a spider on my chest,” Peter rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air for good measure, “But if that's how it's gonna be I’m gonna call you Mr. dumbface, cause really your face is annoying me right now,”

There was silence.

“Ok, so I’m a little out of it today, but a little laugh would’ve been nice,” he turned back to Harley, who was staring at him with a slightly gaped mouth.

“You… you’re… Really?” was all Harley stuttered. And, ok, ya. Maybe Peter should have seen it coming that he wasn’t the only one who could recognize voices.

“Listen we’ll talk about it later, ok, lemme just web this gu—”

“I’m not going back to jail!” the guy yelled, suddenly a lot more defensive than he had been before. And Peter didn’t like that. A guy with a gun? Easy-peasy, just had to disarm him. Usually, they didn’t even want to use their weapon. But an angry, defensive guy with a gun? Well, that was significantly more difficult to deal with.

Peter had a split second of warning when his Spidey Sense went off. It wasn’t enough, he knew it wasn’t. But his instinct kicked in and he grabbed Harley’s arm, shoving him to the ground just like he had done earlier today.

And really, Peter needed to stop with constant, daily, accidents. This was getting a bit much.

There were three shots, the first two went into Peter's stomach, and the second in his right shoulder. He grunted but didn’t fall. He gave the guy a good punch in the face, knocking him down to the ground.

“That…” Peter grunted, kicking the gun away, “That was rude.”

He quickly webbed the guy up, sparing no amount of webs to ensure that he would stay on the ground for a while. He stumbled back, placing a hand over his stomach as he tried to assess the damage. He didn’t think the bullets hit anything important, but he also couldn’t tell if they were still in him or not. What he did know is that he was bleeding fast.

A hand landed on Peter’s shoulder, and his first instinct was to attack. His Spidey Senses were going haywire, everything felt like a threat. He went to spin and web up whoever was grabbing him, but he was beginning to feel dizzy and practically tripped over his own two feet. And fuck, he felt like shit.

“Hey! Hey! It’s me, it’s me. It’s Harley,” the brunette said, leading Peter to sit on the ground, away from the mugger.

“You’re… You’re bleeding, like a lot. What… What do we do?” and this was the first time Peter ever heard Harley sound unsure of himself.

Peter’s first instinct was to ask Karen to call Mr. Stark, so he did exactly that. But his mind was starting to get foggy, and it felt like there were cotton balls in his mouth. Every word was a struggle, and every breath hurt, and fuck he just wants to be at the Tower so Mr. Stark and Dr. Cho can patch him up again.

“Kaaareeenn,” Peter mumbled, each syllable feeling like another stab to his stomach, “Karen… Kareeeen,” He kept calling out for her, but the AI is strangely quiet.

There’s a reason she doesn't answer though, and Peter knows it… but he can’t remember. His brain is too foggy, and he doesn’t really know where he is anymore, or who he wants. He just knows he needs Karen to answer him. So he kept mumbling her name.

“Oh my god, I think I broke Tony’s genius child,” Harley mumbled, and yes! Yes! That’s who Peter needs right now!

“Mi’ss’r… Mi’ss’r S’rk,” he stuttered out, nodding at Harley, who just stares at him with wide and confused eyes. Peter just continues, “Miiiis’errrrr S’arrrrk. Call. Call, Mi’ss’r S’rk. Karen, Kaareen, call Missss’r S’rk.”

And he can hear Harley mumbling above him, something about “breaking a superhero”, and how “Tony is going to kill him”, but he doesn’t really care, but wow, his stomach hurts. And his shoulder hurts. And how much blood has he lost? A lot, probably. Somewhere, deep down, Peter knew that he only got this foggy, this out of it, when there was internal bleeding. Which, ya, he didn’t like that he knew that, but what could he do? His brain wasn’t working fast enough right now though to be able to relay that information to Harley.

“Ok.. Ok… Get him to Tony, he can help. Ya, ya. That’s a good idea. Phone… Phone… ok. Ok, that’s fine, no phone. We’ll just walk back, totally fine. Just gonna walk back to Stark Towers with a bleeding … Spider… guy,” Harley kept mumbling and it was starting to get on Peter’s nerves. Why wasn’t Karen answering him?

(Because... his mind supplied unhelpfully, you were supposed to fix the coms with Mr. Stark but you never did.)

And suddenly he was being lifted up or at least helped up. “C’mon, C’mon. I need your help here, you gotta walk with me, we’re not that far from the Tower, just walk with me,” Harley kept speaking, and when Peter whined (no he didn’t, he’ll deny that if you ever ask him about it), Harley made sure to speak quieter.

Peter doesn’t remember a lot about the whole trip, but he does remember tripping and falling a couple of times, and Harley telling people to move out of their way. “Just, just a few more steps, we’re almost there and then Tony’ll fix you up, he’ll fix you up, don’t worry,” at this point, Harley was talking more for himself than he was for Peter. Peter was barely listening.

Peter doesn’t remember being taken up to the MedBay, nor does he remember Mr. Stark walking in with Dr. Cho, and he definitely doesn’t remember the surgery that was performed to get the bullets out of his stomach. Apparently, the one in the shoulder was a clean shot. He was informed of everything a few hours after he woke up.

But when Peter first woke up he looked around the room, ignoring the familiar itch of an IV in his arm. Mr. Stark was asleep in a chair in the corner. For the most part he looked calm, collected, even somehow bored in his sleep, but Peter could practically feel the tension seeping off him. Then, there was Harley, who was sitting right next to Peter’s bed, and wide awake.

“Uh… hi,” was all Harley said.

“F.R.I, can you turn down the lights please?” was all Peter had the energy to say at first. It was too bright. It was always too bright in the MedBay. Immediately, the lights turned down by 50%, and Peter mumbled out a thanks.

“Are you ok?” he turned to Harley, looking over the boy to see if there were any injuries. The only one he could see is the mild burn from earlier that day.

“Am I— am I ok? Dude, you got shot three times while wearing a red and blue spandex suit! What the fuck,” Harley looked shocked, maybe even a little angry, “God, I hate New York. You’re all so weird here, what the fuck is even happening?”

“I dunno, this feels like a normal Saturday night to me,” Peter shrugged, trying to make light of the situation. He didn’t like that the other boy was concerned over him.

“Normal? God, I hate it here,” Harley ran a hand through his hair, huffing out a laugh. There was a beat of silence before Peter broke out into a choked laugh too. Soon, the two boys were hardly able to contain themselves, Harley was doubled over laughing, and Peter was leaning back. Neither of them really knew what they were laughing about, but they both couldn’t get over the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“It’s actually early Sunday morning, now,” Peter’s laughter got caught off, and he snapped his neck to look at the man in the corner.

Now that Mr. Stark’s eyes were open and aware he could see that they were a little red and a little swollen. But Peter was more focused on the whole “Sunday” thing.

“Aunt May!” he bolted up from bed, ready to get dressed right that minute.

“Has already been contacted,” Mr. Stark sighed, “Really, who do you take me for?”

Peter didn’t answer, he just shrugged and continued to look at his sheets. He was still feeling shitty about the explosion, and he didn’t know how to face the man. At least, though, his mind had cleared up from his previous anger and jealousy. Obviously, Mr. Stark cared about Peter and wanted him around, the tear marks on his face proved it.

“Listen, both of you...” Mr. Stark trailed off, and both boys kept their eyes on the man, waiting for him to speak. “I’m sorry I blew up at both of you today,” and at that Peter sent Harley a look, who just shrugged and mouthed ‘I’ll tell you later’, “I shouldn’t have yelled, but honestly? You’re both annoying little shits, and you worried me.”

“Peter’s the worse one,” Harley muttered.

“Says the guy who got mugged on his second night in New York,” Peter shot a teasing look.

“Hey! Tony told me to go for a walk! What was I supposed to do?”

“Bring your phone for one,” Mr. Stark chimed in.

Both boys looked at him sharply, “We’re not talking to you.”

There was a beat of silence before the two teens broke out into laughter again, and Mr. Stark just sighed.

“I can’t believe I’ve spent two days trying to get you two to like each other, and all it took was a mugging, getting shot 3 times, and getting both of you to save each other,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll write that down for next time.”

“To be fair, you maybe should have warned both of us that you were going to try to force a new friendship,” Peter mentioned.

“Don’t be too hard on him, Old man is old enough that he’s probably got dementia or some shit,” Harley chipped in.

“He does forget things a lot, one time he forgot to wear pants to a meeting,”

“That was one time!”

“Ya, ok Mr. Stark.”

“My God, between the two of you, I’ve created a monster,” Mr. Stark sighed as Harley cackled, “Go ahead. Laugh all you want. I’ll be in the kitchen, eating normal human food that a certain Mr. Parker won’t get until the literal holes in his stomach are healed. And Harley? I just don't want to feed you, so suffer.”

And with that, the man left. Both teens laughed briefly, rolling their eyes at their mentor.

“Listen, I’m sorry I was hard on you earlier,” Harley finally spoke up, “I was just excited to spend time with Tony. I haven’t seen him in, jeez, like four years? And it was a bit of a shock to find out I had to share him.”

Peter shook his head, “No, I’m sorry too. I wasn’t very welcoming to you, and I definitely didn’t make any effort.”

There was a silence, an awkward one that Peter wanted to fill.

“I uh, well. I don’t really have a lot of men in my life, not a lot of father figures I guess. I had my Uncle Ben, but he died… a while ago. And well, Mr. Stark stepped up a few months ago, and I guess I kinda latched on a bit too much. I was jealous when you came,” he shrugged, whispering the last part.

Because, God, it was so hard to admit to someone that you were jealous of them. But it had to be done, especially if Harley was staying at the Tower for a couple weeks.

“Jealous of me?” Harley sounded shocked.

“Ya, I mean. He like, didn’t even text me to cancel our lab night, and he gave you my room, and you were with us for our lab day, and we didn’t even do our movie night. I thought you were replacing me, which is stupid, I know now,

“Dude. Tony’s known I was coming here two weeks ahead of time and literally forgot to set me up a room. I showed up at the front door and he was still shocked. He didn’t forget to text you, he forgot I was coming,”

“Oh.”

“Ya, oh. And, well, I’m only here because of family stuff,” Harley paused, and Peter could see that he was debating whether or not he should continue.

“My sister got sick. Cancer, they said, so she and my mom had to go to the hospital while she gets treatment. And my mom, well, she didn’t want me home alone, and she knew she couldn’t really take care of me and my sick sister. So Tony said I could stay here for a few weeks until they were back home. So I wasn’t here to replace you, I’m just a charity case,” and Peter’s heart practically broke at the way Harley’s shoulders sagged. He knew that feeling.

Mr. Stark wasn’t the best at letting people know his true intentions, and it was easy to feel like you were a burden to the man. Peter should know, he was President of feeling that way.

“Harley, listen. I’ve only known Mr. Stark for like, a few months now. Less than a year,” he started, “But I know for a fact that he doesn’t let just anyone stay in the Tower. He only lets people he really, really, cares about in here. And his lab! Plus I see how he talks with you! You’ve got him wrapped around your finger,”

“Says you,”

“Well then the two of us together? We can get anything we want,” and that made Harley laughed.

They settled into another silence, this one much less awkward. The only sounds were of their breathing and of the machines beeping.

“So, uh, Spider, eh?” Harley raised an eyebrow, “Are you some sort of bug superhero?”

“I’m Spider-Man,” Peter answered incredulously, “Haven’t you heard of me?”

“Uh, no?”

“The Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man?” Harley shook his head, “Crap, I’ve gotta start working outside of New York, I guess.”

“So are you a mutant?”

“What?” Peter laughed, “Nah, until about a year ago I was totally normal, less than even. Asthmatic, and I needed glasses, and honestly a strong gust of wind could’ve knocked me over.”

“What changed?”

“Radioactive spider,” Peter shrugged as if it answered everything.

Harley barked out a laugh, “What?”

“It bit me, now I’m like, part spider I guess.”

“Shit… That’s wild,”

“Ya,”

And with that, both boys were silent again, this time both of their breathing began getting shallower and shallower, and before they knew it they were passed out. The last thing Peter heard was Mr. Stark walking by the room again,

“Monsters, the two of them.”

#my fics #irondad #spiderson #irondad fic #spiderman fic #peter parker fic #harley keener #jealousy fic #peter parker #tony stark

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allsassnoclass · 4 years ago

Text

you could bring down my level of concern

Michael is having a bad night. Ashton picks him up for ice cream

read on ao3

It’s just after one in the morning, and Michael doesn’t trust his ability to keep it together. He’s felt like his skin has been pressed too tightly the entire day, and that was before he realized that there’s an entire book he was supposed to read for his contemporary literature class, sitting untouched on his dresser. He’s got so many tabs open on his computer of assignments that he needs to finish, and he keeps forgetting that he has to email the financial aid office or he’s going to get a late fee on his bills but he can’t exactly email them now at one in the morning because they’re going to think he can’t get his life together on top of being an idiot for forgetting for so long. He’s been restlessly switching between different social media platforms and opening up Netflix only to close it again when nothing seems to fit, steadfastly ignoring the book, the articles he’s supposed to read with it, and all of the other homework for his music classes.

Shit. He didn’t practice today, and his professor is going to be able to tell when he has his lesson tomorrow.

Michael shifts and unlocks his phone again, but nothing has changed in the three seconds he’s been gone. He stares at his home screen for a moment, a picture of him and Ashton from before they got back to campus this year, smiles wide and tucked close together.

He saw Ashton two days ago, but he hasn’t really seen him for at least two weeks. With the new university policies, they’re not allowed to hang out in Ashton’s dorm room or Michael’s apartment anymore, nor be outside together without masks. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if they both were off campus and could sneak around, but Ashton is an RA. He’ll get immediately fired if they get caught, and if he somehow does manage to get the virus his entire floor will be put into official quarantine. It’s not just them who are at risk, and Ashton is too much of a bleeding heart to put all of his residents through that.

As such, Michael has eaten lunch outside with Ashton and facetimed him and spent a lot of time cuddled up to Calum to make up for the fact that he’s technically not allowed to touch Ashton (although no one has noticed them holding hands across the table, or a quick hug before they part for classes).

It’s getting chillier. When snow starts to fall, Ashton is going to need to concede to hanging out in Michael and Calum’s apartment, because they’re both going to go crazy without it.

Michael already feels like he’s going crazy. He has assignments and his dishes are dirty and he has no money and everything absolutely sucks and he misses his boyfriend, so he pulls out his phone and sends can you pick me up.

After a moment, he adds please.

Ashton could be asleep already, because he’s been trying really hard to seem well-adjusted for his senior year, and the thought makes panic bubble uncomfortably in Michael’s gut. He can’t get himself to start his tasks, and he can’t stop picking at his cuticles, a bad habit that everyone has been trying to help him break, and he’s been missing Ashton vaguely since they got back on campus but thinks he’s going to cry if he doesn’t get to see him tonight.

What if Ashton doesn’t want to see him?

Ashton wants you around, Michael says to himself, trying to remember everything his therapist has told him for when he feels like this. Just because outside circumstances are making it difficult doesn’t mean that he suddenly hates you.

His internal voice doesn’t sound very convincing. With the way everything has been going lately, Michael wouldn’t be surprised if Ashton suddenly dumped him and Calum moved out and Luke and the girls stopped talking to him so he was miserable and alone. That’s just about the only way things could get even worse, right?

He doesn’t want to jinx it.

His phone buzzes in his hand, and Michael glances down to see Ashton’s name pop up with the message be there in 5.

Everything snaps into focus when Ashton is near. This strange crawling sensation under his skin might not fully go away, but maybe it’ll lessen, and maybe Michael will be able to think about school without wanting to throw up.

He slips on a hoodie, shoves on some shoes, and barely remembers to grab his wallet and keys before he’s slipping on a mask and out the door, rushing down the stairs to get out of the apartment building. The night air does nothing to sooth him, feeling dense and muggy through his mask rather than light and crisp like he wants. Still, he looks up at the sky and tries to let the slight breeze he can feel against his forehead calm him a little, just enough to hold him over until he can get in Ashton’s car and hopefully breathe properly again.

He’s still trying in vain to find a star that hasn’t been drowned out by light pollution or clouds when Ashton’s car arrives, engine squeaking in a familiar way when he pulls up to the curb a bit too fast, as always. Michael makes his way to the passenger door and gets in.

“Hey, stranger. Need a ride?” Ashton quips, and Michael crumples. Ashton looks soft, wearing pajama pants and a large sweatshirt, hair messy and eyes tired but smile intact. Michael wants to cry, but instead he just feels uncomfortable, like Ashton is a stranger again and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

“Hey,” Ashton says gently, “what’s wrong?”

Michael shrugs.

“Okay,” Ashton says. “Do you want to take off your mask?”

He does, putting it in the pocket of his hoodie, and Ashton smiles.

“There he is,” he says, bringing a hand up to Michael’s cheek, and Michael leans into it, chasing the feeling of Ashton’s hands on his skin.

He’s missed this. Ashton seems to understand, shifting so he can thread his fingers through the hair at the back of Michael’s neck, then drawing him forward into a kiss. Michael’s hands come up to grip Ashton’s sweatshirt at the first brush of lips, pressing into it like he’s been drowning and Ashton is his first breath of fresh hair. Ashton makes a startled noise in the back of his throat, but responds in kind, opening his mouth when prompted and licking into Michael’s, taking control in the way they both like best. When they part for air a minute later, they don’t go far, pressing their foreheads together while Michael tries to make his fingers loosen their grip.

“Is there anything I can do?” Ashton asks eventually.

“No,” Michael says. “I don’t know. You’re doing it, I guess.”

He starts to pull away, and Ashton pecks him quickly on the lips again before he lets him.

“Where do you want to go?” Ashton asks.

“Away from campus,” Michael says.

“Ice cream?”

Michael nods, and Ashton starts the car.

The drive is quiet. Michael makes no move to turn on the radio or get the aux cord, and Ashton lets it be. Michael stares out the window, letting the houses and street lights pass by on the familiar route. There’s a Baskin Robbins attached to a Dunkin with 24-hour drive through, and they’ve made a lot of midnight runs there since they started dating. Some of Michael’s favorite memories from last year include sitting in the parking lot together, talking and laughing and sharing bites of ice cream when one of them got an unusual flavor. They managed to fit in two trips during the first weeks of the semester, but haven’t been able to go recently due to the campus lockdown.

About halfway there, Ashton reaches over and takes Michael’s hand, thumb rubbing soothing circles on it. Michael tries to focus on that, rather than the stretched-out feeling still present under his skin.

They pull up to the drive through and Ashton shifts the car into park. Despite the place not being busy at all, it has astoundingly slow service this late at night.

“Do you want your usual?” Ashton asks, and Michael nods. When they do eventually order, Ashton gets one scoop of cherry and one scoop of vanilla, and he gets Michael the chocolatiest thing on the menu. Ashton pays, and once they get their items he pulls into their usual parking space in the corner and turns the car off.

“So,” Ashton says when they’re a few bites in, “I really think you should tell me what’s wrong.”

Michael takes another bite of his ice cream and considers if he knows who to articulate this.

“I feel… bad,” he starts. “Just--like my skin is too tight, or something, and I can’t focus on anything but I also can’t not focus on anything. I’m tired but can’t sleep, the world is basically fucking ending and I’m somehow expected to read an entire book by tomorrow. I have so much I’m supposed to do and can’t make myself do any of it, and it’s not even that I don’t have the time, because nothing is happening! I hate trying to do music classes online, I can’t fucking see my friends, and I miss--”

He stops. Ashton waits patiently, letting the silence stretch out until Michael is ready to break it again.

“I miss you. I know we’re doing our best with what we can right now, but it still sucks.”

Ashton reaches out again, gentle hand landing on his arm. That makes Michael feel the closest he has to crying all night, but it’s still not quite enough. He wishes this were the type of upset that could be solved with a long hug and a cathartic cry, but it’s not. This discomfort is the type that gets into his bones and stays for a while.

Michael wishes the gear shift wasn’t in the way, so he could tuck himself against Ashton and hide there until this entire thing is over.

“Going to school right now fucking sucks, and I’m proud of you for handling it as well as you have been,” Ashton says. It’s a nice thing to say, but it’s useless right now. Michael knows that going to school right now sucks, and Ashton is always proud of him for doing the bare minimum. He hums anyway, because Ashton’s trying to help.

“Let’s eat our ice cream and make a plan for the rest of tonight and tomorrow,” Ashton says. “We’ll figure out the homework stuff, at least, and get to spend time together properly.”

“Can we sit on the hood?” he asks, and thankfully Ashton nods. The night air is crisper without his mask, or maybe it’s because they’re a bit further from the heart of the city. Either way, Michael presses close, not willing to forfeit time spent touching Ashton.

Luke is the clingiest out of all of them, but Michael hadn’t realized just how much he enjoyed touch until the virus hit and it was taken away from him. He was craving Ashton’s long before he wasn’t allowed to have it, and if he didn’t know that Ashton needs the money being an RA provides he would have begged him to quit and move in with him and Calum.

They talk about easy things as they eat, like the shift to Michael’s favorite type of weather that had happened recently and Ashton’s floor programs that he’s planning. Michael tells him about how Calum almost burnt the apartment down and they just barely avoided having the alarms go off, and Ashton gives an anecdote about residents trying to smuggle two of the campus lawn chairs into their rooms while he was on security.

“They’re just so stupid sometimes,” he says. “It really is not hard to get away with stuff like that if you put your mind to it, but they obviously didn’t.” He turns the story into an entire bit, complete with a funny imitation of their bad excuses when he caught them, and it makes Michael laugh. Some of the weird feeling dissipates.

Ashton gets out his notes app when they finish eating, and Michael leans his head on his shoulder to watch him type up the plan.

Michael will do his music theory homework tonight, but he’s going to stop once it hits three in the morning to go to bed regardless of how much is or is not done. Ashton will type up a detailed summary of the book he was supposed to read, since apparently it was his favorite when he took the class last semester as part of his major requirement, and have it emailed to Michael by the time his alarm goes off at 8 the next morning. Hopefully that will be enough for Michael to do the forum posts he’s supposed to, and he should still have time to do his ear training before class. They can meet up for lunch, then Michael can go to his other two classes, take a break until dinner, spend a bit of time in the practice room, and do his homework for the next day in the evening.

Calum has a study group then, and Michael likes working in the living room while he zooms the others. It’s easier to stay focused when Calum is, as well, and they’ve gotten into a routine of playing two rounds of Fifa, Smash, or MarioKart during well-timed breaks.

Marked out like this, the tasks look less overwhelming.

“Can you write that I need to email the student fees office during lunch?” he asks. Ashton nods and adds it to the list. “And dishes after dinner.”

It’s not too bad when it’s notated like this, and if he doesn’t get his theory homework done tonight he won’t completely fail the class as long as he does all of the other work, although he knows that letting himself slip with one assignment always makes it easier to neglect them in the future, to near-disastrous results. His lesson might be less-than-stellar tomorrow, but at least Dr. O is nice about it. He’ll be disappointed, and Michael might cry because he hates falling short of his expectations, but he won’t be mean.

“Doable?” Ashton asks. Michael nods. Ashton takes a screenshot of the note and texts it to Michael, then grabs his hand as they sit in silence for a few more minutes.

“We should get back,” Michael says eventually.

“We can stay a bit longer,” Ashton says. He tightens his grip on Michael’s hand, and maybe

Ashton has been missing him just as much. Michael presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“I have to do my theory homework, and you’re ready for bed,” he says.

“Wait,” Ashton says as he starts to shift away. Michael pauses, and Ashton’s hands shift to his waist, leaning in for a deep kiss. He melts into it, toes curling at the single-minded focus Ashton dedicates to it. They shift for a better angle, Ashton leaning against the windshield and Michael following him down, and it takes all of Michael’s self-control to pull away before things become too heated.

“I don’t want to give the Baskin Robbins employee a free show,” he says. Ashton’s fingers dip under his hoodie and shirt, chilly from either the ice cream or the fall air. Michael shivers at the light brush at the small of his back, and Ashton gives him a lopsided smile.

“It’d be the most interesting thing they’ll see tonight,” he says.

“It’ll also get the police called on us for public indecency,” Michael says. “Can’t believe I’m having to be the responsible one about this, Mr. I-Am-A-Mature-Resident-Advisor-Who-Will-Do-No-Wrong.”

“You make me feel adventurous,” Ashton says. Michael hums and kisses him again, and Ashton doesn’t try to escalate it.

“Okay,” Ashton says. “Let’s go back.”

They get in the car, and Michael pulls up a gentle playlist for the ride back. Ashton hums along to the first song, and something else in Michael’s gut dissipates. He still feels a bit weird, but he thinks it’s manageable now. He has a plan, and he has Ashton, and if previous experience is any indicator he should feel okay by the time he wakes up tomorrow morning.

Michael watches Ashton tap out an easy beat on the steering wheel with his thumbs, and takes another deep breath.

Things are kind of fucked now, but it won’t be like this forever. He’ll be okay.

#my writing #mashton #5sos fanfic #this is genuinely just. so much projection #so much #also though as I was writing this I fell in love with the universe so #maybe college mashton will be what I work on when nothing else works

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its-pronounced-quoassoint · 5 years ago

Text

Power Rangers AU-Chapter 3

Pairings: romantic Logicality, Prinxiety, Demus, Remile

This Chapter Features: YouTuber!Patton, Patton centric story line

This Chapter Warnings: crying, angst, mentions of dead characters, reluctantcy, sympathetic Remus

Credit for this AU goes to @when-day-met-the-knight (specifically this post).

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic please let me know in reply!

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Chapter 3-Pink

Patton kept a diary. When he was younger he would stay up late at night, using pens to write in composition notebooks. Assigning different colors to different days of the week, doodling in the margins, dating every page in the top right corner, and taking time to think of a title for each day. At the bottom of every page Patton would rate how well the day was on a scale of one to five and doodle a little face that showed how he felt.

Keeping a diary was one of the few constants in Patton's life. After so much change and heartbreak, holding on to something, as silly as diary keeping, made Patton’s time a little more enjoyable.

When he received his first phone, Patton decided that a digital diary would be more convenient. He downloaded a simple note taking app, and began writing about his day there.

The advantage to a digital diary was he could write wherever he wanted. Patton sat on the bus to school, typing fervently. It was their first day back since the last attack and he had not gotten enough homework done as he would have liked. Patton was letting out some feelings onto his phone and listening to the chatter of the kids around him.

Patton is very aware of the fact that many of them were staring at him in awe. Especially the middle schoolers. Typically his audience on YouTube was middle schoolers. He knew having a few million subscribers got him attention and Patton had accepted that attention as part of his everyday life. It meant nothing to him now. A sort of bitter exchange. He didn’t feel the nervousness he used to when people approached him for pictures. The right feelings he got when young minds randomly appeared next to him and wanted to ask about being a YouTuber. However, that also meant he didn’t get the rush of happiness when some small kid praised or thanked him. He didn’t really feel that delighted feeling of pride anymore.

Patton typed on his phone until the bus pulled up to the high school. Patton stepped off the bus after almost tripping over several small kids in the bus isle. He began rolling up to the school, warm humid air hitting him. It had rained horribly the day before and him, along with several other fluffy haired people, were feeling the affects.

Patton opened the doors for a few high schoolers behind him and walked in. Heading for his locker immediately. After gathering his things Patton began taking his bag to his first hour.

“Hey Pat.” The familiar voice of Naomi, one of his close friends, greeted him.

“Hey Mi.” Patton smiled at her, moving a little in the hall so she could walk next to him.

“How was break?”

“Ugh, did not get any homework for Leed’s class done.” Patton rolled his eyes. “But, ya know, got some editing finished.”

“Well, I don’t think the teachers honesty expect us to have gotten anything done.” Naomi tried to soothe him.

“Yeah.” Patton sighed. They stepped into their shared first hour and continued to talk. A few more friends walked in and began talking with them, but Patton dropped away from them quickly.

He never felt particularly attached to the people in his school. It was hit or miss with people you talked to. Patton was very aware of his social standing as ‘the most popular person in high school’, but he attributed that to his YouTube channel’s success. It wasn’t like he didn’t have friends. He certainly had people wanting to be his friend. However, it was never the type of connection that Patton would see on tv. No best friend sleepovers, skipping class together, eating cookies late at night while watching Netflix. Patton wasn’t proud of the fact that he didn’t have a close friend like that, but he figured he should take what he gets.

Besides, he still had friends.

Lunch was an easy time for Patton. He typically sat with Naomi in the library. Sure that’s not what one would expect from a popular socialite like Patton, but the cafeteria was simply too loud. Hectic and scary were adjectives Patton often described lunch as. He didn’t eat much at lunch either. He never really ate much. There wasn’t a lot of time to eat.

Patton often spent his time listening to his friends’ problems, studying, doing something for the array of clubs he was in, or editing for YouTube. There wasn’t much time for anything else, but that was okay. Patton enjoyed doing all of those-besides studying-so it wasn’t like he missed anything. There was nothing to miss when he didn’t know of much else he could do.

Mondays were usually not the favorite day of the week for any student, never mind any person. However, they were Patton’s favorite. Why? Well, Mondays after school, Patton got to go down to the freshman biology teacher’s room and run the QSA at his school. He loved the QSA. He had been going since 8th grade, when he couldn’t technically go because he wasn’t in high school.

However, he dedicated a lot of time to the QSA and had become the president of the club in junior year. He was elated to be in it and was able to get together a team to spread the word about it and set up fun activities. It was one of the only things about school that Patton documented in his YouTube videos.

Patton didn’t like to talk about school too much for fear of it interfering with him graduating, but he was able to take videos of everything that happened with QSA. Much to the delight of his viewers.

Patton sat anxiously in 6th hour, awaiting the final bell that meant he could head down to the club room. Sadly though, sixth hour was just getting under way, so he would have to wait.

“Welcome back to sixth hour!” Patton’s calc teacher, Mrs. Ryans began. “I know school only had been a few weeks in when the attacks hit, and it essentially feels like the next semester, but we’ll be doing a small project!”

The class cheered a little. Projects for her class were typically easier than usual class work. She would often pair up students to work on it together, making it all the easier on Patton. Usually Mrs. Ryans paired Patton with Logan, who was more than happy to help Patton on the project. Patton loved partnering with Logan, he was understanding of Patton’s schedule and never got frustrated with Patton’s inability to meet in order to work on the project. Though Patton had heard he was quite the opposite with other partners in different classes.

“So, I didn’t really have the time nor the care to make a list of partners, so, your table partners will do for this.” Mrs. Ryans sighed.

Patton met Logan’s eye with a disappointed look and shrugged. Logan returned the sentiment before looking toward Remus next to him. Logan smacked the snickering idiot.

Patton turned to his table partner Dee and gave him a warm smile that was met with a side smile, reserved for Patton alone.

“Donnie can you pass out the papers?” Mrs. Ryans asked.

“Sure!” Donnie smiled and stood, grabbing the stack of papers that explained the assignment.

“Mrs. Ryans! Dee and I need to be partners.” Kayley Holt said a few rows behind Patton.

“Uh, no.” Mrs. Ryans trailed off giving Kayley a questioning look.

“But we have to be. We have co-dependency anxiety and we’re both super anxious without each other! We have to be partners.” Kayley demanded.

Patton looked over to Dee who held a blank expression rivaling Lady Gaga’s ‘poker face’. Patton could tell he was not happy with the arrangement Kayley was trying to pull.

“You know what Kayley, I know you’re lying to me about this so don’t even try and pull this stunt again, but fine, you and Dee can be partners. Just don’t whine when you two both get Cs on the assignment cause you didn’t work.” Mrs. Ryans pointed at Kayley. Then pointed at her table partner. “Roman, you’ll pair with Patton.”

Patton smiled over at Roman who dramatically smiled back.

“This will be due on Friday and I expect it typed, nothing handwritten! Heck knows you people write in hieroglyphics.” Mrs. Ryans dismissively waved her hand. “You will have Thursday in class to work on it if you need but if you don’t you can just have this as a free hour.”

Patton received the paper and began reading over the project. Dee and Roman switched places and the two dove into the work. Dividing it between themselves and scheduling times to meet to work on it.

“Are you free tonight after QSA?” Roman asked.

“Yeah, you?”

“Mhm. I don’t think Logan or Remus have anything going on either. We can all kinda work on it together at my place.” Roman turned to where Logan and Remus sat across the room. “Logan! Remus! Come here.”

Logan and Remus turned to Roman who was waving them over enthusiastically. The two look at each other before Logan shrugged and began walking their way. Logan and Remus sat down across from Patton and Roman, the four began talking about going to the twins’ home after QSA to work on the project.

“Well what am I supposed to do while you three are in your club?” Remus asked

“You can come if you want. We’re doing some stuff for the underclassmen for homecoming.” Patton told Remus.

“I though they called off Homecoming.” Roman looked at Pat.

“Well, they did,” Patton trailed off. “but the freshmen on the QSA group chat were so upset, I mean I couldn’t let them be so disappointed.”

“What did you do? Pay ‘em off?” Remus whispered.

“What?! No!” Patton whispered back. Not fully knowing why he was whispering, so he stopped. “I just argued to the superintendent that they deserved a Homecoming.”

“How? He never changes his mind.” Roman smiled.

“Well, I mean, I’m good at convincing people, I guess.” Patton shrugged. “But yeah, homecoming is back on.”

“None of us go to homecoming though.” Roman pointed out.

“Yeah, but the freshmen and sophomores like going and some juniors go and I know I don’t have time to go, but they deserve some fun. The town’s ten pm curfew doesn’t exactly give any kids the chance to hang out with their friends like normal teenagers.” Patton explained.

“Well, it’s nice for you to do something for them. Having experiences with their friends, like homecoming, will make it all the easier to deal the trauma of the attacks.” Logan finally said.

“Thank you Logan.” Patton nodded. “Now, is that all settled. We just head to your place after QSA?”

“Yep.” Roman nodded.

Patton smiled at him and began texting his foster mother the plan. Class ended a while after that and the four began their walk to the science wing of the school. Heading to Mr. Travis’s-the QSA faculty advisor-room. The room was already full of kids from every grade. Eager freshmen were talking nervously to their friends while the other two seniors looked around commenting on how they were used to it by now.

“Hey guys!” Patton said as he entered.

“Patton!” Jana, a sophomore, squeaked when he entered. “I passed the project!”

“I knew you would! You’ve gotta stop doubting yourself.” Patton congratulated her.

“I know, I know.” She giggled. “Camera?” Jana put out her hands expectantly.

“Here!” Patton walked over to one of the cabinets and pulled out the camera he used for filiming. He handed it to Jana who giddily heded over to tripod and began setting up eqquipment. "Okay everyone, before I begin with what we're doing today can we set up the tables into one long table?"

The group got up from their chairs, still chatting, and began arranging the tables the way Patton had asked. Once done helping, Patton walked to the 'head' of their make-shift table and sat down. Jana started up the cameras and sound and Patton began.

"Homecoming is back on, which means another year of having to find a date, dress nice, and so on. So, what I’ve decided to do, is spend this week, next week, and however much longer making flower crowns.” Patton announced. “I know it’s a little childish, but pride flag flower crowns are so much fun to make and afterward you get really good at them”

“I love it.” Cami, one of the juniors said.

“Thanks Cami.” Patton smiled. “Make some for yourself, make some for our friends, make pride flag ones, make any color ones, doesn’t matter, just use all the flowers. I printed out a bunch of instructions on different types of crowns and other jewelry you can make with the flowers. Just have fun with it!”

Mr. Travis entered the room with loads of flowers in his hand and his daughter trailing behind, also carrying many flowers.

“Here we are.” He grunted, setting them down.

“Thanks Mr. Travis.” Patton smiled. “Let’s get started!”

The club dispersed into groups and began making crowns, chatting with their friends, and goofing around. Patton was pulled over to a group of sophomores and freshmen who wanted to talk.

He looked over to see Logan, Roman, and Remus talking quietly while making the crowns. Patton smiled, even Remus was making a pride flag flower crown.

After some time he walked over to Logan, Roman, and Remus. The three stopped talking quickly and focused a little too intensely on the flower crowns.

QSA ended far too quickly for Patton’s liking, but he and the three others left for Roman’s house soon. They talked the whole way, mainly Remus, and were very quickly entering the home.

Patton and Roman went to the living room and lazily began talking about the project. Logan and Remus went to the dining room and Logan attempted to make progress while Remus threw Cheetos in the air and tried to catch them in his mouth.

Patton looked around the house. It was huge. Large eggshell white walls and intimidating furnishings. It barely looked lived in.

“Hey Roman,” Patton started, “can you point me to the bathroom?”

“Yeah sure, the closest one is just down that hallway.” Roman pointed to a dark hallway. “I’m pretty sure it’s on the right. You’ll find it.”

“Thanks.” Patton smiled.

He got up and headed that way, not quite sure what he was doing. He didn’t need to go to the bathroom, but something about the house felt so familiar. He had to find out why. Why did being in the home feel off yet inviting. It didn’t make any sense. Patton has always been good at feelings. Knowing what they are in him and observing them in others. This though, this was different.

Patton walked down the hallway toward a door, feeling the pull even more intensely. Every step was pulling him forward. Why was it so familiar?

Patton opened the door and stepped into an extremely dark room. Patton’s eyes could barely adjust. Without realizing it he had entered the room and was running his hand along the objects in the room. The feeling grew to an overwhelming point and Patton tried to pull away and go back to the living room, but to no avail. Then something grabbed him. It wrapped around his wrist and tightened into a perfect fit. Patton was finally able to pull his hand back and looked at the thing on his wrist.

A bracelet. Glowing pink and swirling around his wrist.

Patton screamed.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Patton continued. He just stared at the bracelet in horror trying to get it off him as fast as possible.

Patton distantly heard Logan call his name. Pounding footsteps headed his way and the lights around him were flipped on.

Patton barely noticed, he just focused on tearing the bracelet off of him.

“Patton?!” Logan yelled for his attention.

“Get it off, get it off, oh please just get this thing off of me.” Patton cried out.

“What?” Roman started, but stopped when Patton turned and showed them the bracelet. “Oh.”

“Please just get it off, please, please,” Patton suddenly stopped, staring at Remus. “You-you’re-“

“Remus!“ Roman chided, noticing the mace he had in his hand.

“What? We didn’t know why Patton was screaming! It could have been a minion.”

“Jeez Remus.” Roman shook his head.

“You’re the Green Ranger?” Patton asked shakily. “Which one are you Logan?”

“I-uh blue.” Logan hurried out an answer.

“Logan! You can’t just tell every pretty boy you’re the Blue Ranger!” Roman smacked Logan on the shoulder.

“I’m not!” Logan’s face turned a bright red.

“Oh this is a disaster.” Roman sighed.

“I know.” Logan looked away.

“Look, I don’t care! I won’t tell anyone, I promise! You can trust me! Just please get this off of me! I don’t want to be a Ranger please!” Patton begged.

“Patton-“

“Can you take this off or not?” Patton asked, tears welling in his eyes.

“I-uh-no.” Logan stuttered. “We don’t know how.”

“Fine.” Patton stood and looked at Roman. His expression hard as tears began falling ever so slightly. “I need to borrow your car.”

“What?” Roman asked startled.

“I need to borrow your car, drive to Thomas, and get him to pull this horrible thing off my wrist.” Patton said, his voice steady.

“Patton we-“

“Please.” Patton broke down into a quiet sob. “Please just let me-“

“We’ll drive you. It’s unsafe to drive when you’re upset like this.” Logan said quickly. “Roman let’s go.”

“Ok-okay.” Roman turned and headed out of the room.

The four quickly ran out of the house and into a car. Roman started it up and began driving. Remus sat quietly in the passenger seat, looking at Patton nervously. Logan and Patton sat in the back, Patton silently crying into Logan’s chest. Logan wrapped an arm around Patton’s shoulders, holding him soothingly.

They pulled up to Thomas’s house and frantically ran to the front door.

“Thomas! Thomas! We need you open up!” Roman knocked on the door loudly.

The door swung open and a little kid stood there worried. “What’s going on?”

“Emile! Where’s your dad?” Roman asked frantically.

“Coming coming! What is it?! Is someone hurt! What happened?” Thomas asked. He looked at the four.

Remus and Roman stood awkwardly on the small porch. And a little ways behind them, Logan held a crying Patton.

“Wha-“ Thomas stopped himself. “Patton?”

“Thomas!!” Patton pulled away from Logan and raced to Thomas. He fell into Thomas’s arms and sobbed harder.

“Oh Pat. It’s okay I-I know.” Thomas tried soothing him. “Come on lets all go inside.”

Thomas led the four inside. Patton collapsed on the couch and looked around, drying his tears.

“Thomas, get it off of me.” Patton started shakily.

“Patton, you know that’s not how it works.”

“I don’t care. It needs to come off. I’m not breaking my last promise with Talyn. I won’t do it.” Patton shook his head. Once again grabbing at the bracelet and trying to pull it off.

Emile put a hand on Patton’s bracelet to stop him from tanking at it.

“Patton, you know Talyn would be proud of you no matter what. They knew that it wasn’t a choice you got to make. You were chosen. They would be so proud to know you’re the next Pink Ranger.” Thomas smiled.

“No!” Patton’s tears started up yet again. “I promised! I said I would never! I told them I would never become a Ranger. It’s dangerous and heartbreaking and it tore Talyn away from me! It took Joan and Talyn from me! It took them both and it almost took you!”

“Patton, I know.” Thomas sighed, stepping closer to Patton who only pulled away.

Roman, Remus, and Logan stood in the kitchen eyeing the scene and trying to understand whatever was going on.

“I can’t do this. I won’t do this.” Patton stated firmly.

“Patton, don’t you remember when you were younger and all you wanted to be was a Ranger? You were so excited to be everything Talyn was and more.”

“I was young. And stupid. And I still am. I’m not ready for this. Talyn didn’t want this.”

“Talyn knew that this would happen. They knew you would be Ranger. It was simply your destiny. You know that. We all knew that.” Thomas sighed. “Talyn just didn’t want you to feel pressured. Talyn knew the risks and didn’t want you to go through the pain.”

“If it weren’t for the morphers, Talyn, and Joan, and Valerie, and Terrence, and Dominic would all still be here! You wouldn’t have been the only Ranger for the past ten years! You wouldn’t be doing this on your own.” Patton cried.

“Pat-“

“Thomas, please just get it off of me.” Patton held out his wrist to Thomas. “Please. I can’t do this, please.”

"Patton. I-I-"

"Pat, please." Emile took Patton's jaw in his hand. "I know it hurts, but think about what you're doing. You know you can't take it off. Once it's on you, you can't just take the morpher off. It's there and there's nothing you can do. So, what you need to do, is live up to that amazing loving person the morpher chose. The morpher chose you because you bring heart and care and compassion to the team. You're made for this role and I know you can do it. Though you may not feel it now, it's still there."

"Emile-“

“When we were so much younger do you remember pretending to be Rangers together. You were always the brave Pink Ranger, swooping in your save me from the Dragon Witch. You just wanted to help me. You’ve always wanted to be a Ranger and you’ve always wanted to help people. Please don’t give up on that. You know for a fact Talyn only said that to try and keep you safe. No matter what you’ve promised them, or Joan, or Megan, you want to do this.” Emile stopped him. “You don’t have to be afraid. You’ve got a team by your side.”

They sat in silence. Patton’s tears had dried on his face and he desperately tried to talk but found no sound coming out. His chest heaved and ached. Patton could only squeeze Emile’s hand in his and sniffle.

“I’m sorry.” Patton squeaked. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. Pat of course you’d feel this way. No one expects you to immediately want to be a Ranger. Especially after what happened with Talyn. No one blames you for feeling this way.” Thomas assured him.

“Thank you, I-I know. I know it’s okay. It just still doesn’t feel that way. It doesn’t feel-feel-feel-“

“I’m sure it doesn’t. But it’s okay.” Emile whispered.

Patton collapsed into Emile, just crying into the smaller boy. “It hurts so bad.”

Emile nodded and ran a soothing hand through Patton’s hair. As Patton continued trying to control his sobbing he felt more arms wrap around him. He shifted to see Roman, Remus, and Logan holding him gently, too gently. It was like they though one squeeze would break Patton in half.

“You’re going to be the best Pink Ranger to ever fight.” Roman told him.

“Thank you I-I’m okay.” Patton smiled sweetly at the boys hugging him.

They pulled away, but stayed close.

“I’m going to be okay.” Patton said a little shakily but calm.

I’m ready. Patton wrote late that night in his diary. I’m going to be okay.

Taglist:

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#patton sanders #YouTuber!Patton #power rangers au #thatsthat24 #logicality #prinxiety #demus #remile

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